#though of course they get much bigger soon lol

[froggibus]

Got Me Up All Night - Ramattra

Pairing: Ramattra x fem! reader (reader uses female pronouns + has a pussy)

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Ramattra is used to putting you to sleep when you can’t, but he’s found a far more effective way now…

CW: slight somno (consensual), size difference + size kink, thigh riding, overstimulation, edging, fingering, Ram has a cock, spanking, dom! Ram (that rhymes lol), sub!reader, possessiveness, insomnia, unprotected sex (but he’s a robot so idk how that even works lol), creampie but not really (^)

guys I am so down bad for this guy rn it’s not even funny…trying to focus on my comp games but he’s standing there being this sexy and ugh

It’s well past three am when you’re rolling out of bed and padding down the halls of the monastery. It’s been a while since you went to sleep at a reasonable time, most nights you tossed and turned until you gave up and resigned to wandering around until you found what you were looking for. Or rather, who you’re looking for. 

You find him in his office, legs propped up on his desk while he studies a map. Though he doesn’t acknowledge your entrance, you know he knows you’re there. He says nothing even as you approach him slowly and climb into his lap. 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and nuzzle your head into his neck. 

Ramattra freezes at your touch. He’s not an affectionate being by any means—he’s never really understood why humans are so caught up on it. But having you drape yourself across him, your warm body against his cool metal, he almost understands it. 

He wraps an arm around you, large hand settling on your back. “Another restless night?”

You hum in agreement, nodding your head. The skin of your cheek brushes his and if he was capable of blushing the way humans did, he would. Something about you just gets into his head, and while he’s never cared much for humans and their antics, he cares for you. 

“Do you want to discuss it?” His thick fingers tangle in your hair, gently tugging on the strands. 

“Just wanna sleep,” as if on cue, you yawn. 

He nods, going back to studying the map on his desk. Still, even as he concentrates, his hand still plays with your hair and rubs your back and brushes your fingers. 

You can’t help but stare at how much bigger he is than you. Ramattra, the omnic warrior who could crush you with one hand, but he’s being more gentle than anyone has ever been with you in your entire life and a part of you just melts. Ramattra, who you thought hated you and your kind until he lulled you to sleep in his office and carried you to bed. Ramattra, who can’t communicate his feelings for the life of him—but why would he want to have feelings for you? You’re just a human, after all.

As soon as he notices your heart rate steady and your breathing soften, he’s scooping you up in his arms and carrying you down the hall. He’s as careful as he can be, supporting your body with just enough strength so that you won't wake up. 

He lays you down in your bed but your arms don’t loosen from around your shoulders. A quiet whimper leaves your lips. He tilts his head in confusion. You were asleep a second ago, and he was so careful. 

It doesn’t seem like you’re awake though. 

He sighs and lays on the bed next to you, letting your body weight drape over him. It’s a good thing he finds your sleepiness endearing. 

You subconsciously wrap your arms around him, slinging one of your legs over his muscular one. You’re completely draped over him, and though the omnic could remove you at any point, he thinks it’s a good excuse to stay the night with you. 

He relaxes with you, letting his thoughts wander from Omnic supremacy for a minute. He thinks of you, laying like this underneath him, showing him things he’s always been curious about. Of course, it doesn’t last long. Not when you’re suddenly whining and rubbing up against him. 

He can feel your heart rate pick up too, the steady thumping growing uneven. He’s not sure what to do—are you having a nightmare? Are you in pain? 

He scans you over, looking for any reason for your sudden change in attitude. He grips your shoulder and gently shakes you awake. 

Your eyes flutter open, squinting to adjust to the dark. “W-what?”

You try to gather your bearings. You were having a dream, a really good dream. It’s then that you notice the dampness in your underwear and the way your legs are wrapped around one of his. 

“S-sorry!” You stammer, and go to pull away your leg, but he grabs your hip and keeps you in place. 

He’s so big, so strong—his fingers reach almost to your belly button while his palm is on your hip, and he effortlessly holds you still. “What’s happening? Are you in pain?”

You bite your lip and shake your head, trying to keep your eyes away from his. Your pussy is still gushing and you fight the urge to keep rocking your hips against him. 

“No. I’m not hurt, I—I just…had a weird dream.”

Ramattra looks at you curiously. Your body temperature has gone way up, you can’t look him in the eye, and he can feel a warm wetness in the crotch of your pants. He’s heard of these symptoms before but he’s in complete disbelief. There’s no way you’re aroused, is there?

He holds you still with one hand while he slowly trails the other one down your side, slipping it into the waistband of your shorts. His fingers brush your swollen clit and you whine, trying to clench your thighs around his thick fingers. 

Your reaction confirms all he needs to know, and then he’s withdrawing his hand from your pants and rubbing circles on your thigh. 

“R-ram,” you whimper. 

He finds your pleas endearing. You’re so frail and desperate beneath him, straining your hips against his grip to try and get the friction you’re so desperate for. Still, he holds you in place. 

“Tell me what you need.” 

You whine again, looking at him with desperate eyes and trying to rub your hips against his thick metal thigh. “P-please, let me just—” 

He releases his grip on your hips and you let out a whine as you get the friction you’ve needed. You roll over so you’re somewhat on top of him, gliding your hips up and down his leg. He keeps a hand on your hip to guide you along, occasionally pressing you into him in a way that makes you lick your lips and roll your eyes. 

He’s in utter disbelief. He never thought he’d be close to a human, let alone having sex with one. But you look so fucking cute, and he loves how he has complete control over you. How he can give you so much pleasure or take it away at will. 

You look up at him in utter want and he knows what you’re trying to say—you need more. He rips the fabric of your shorts and underwear apart in one fluid motion, discarding them somewhere on the bed. The cold night air hits your aching pussy and the skin to metal contact is delicious. 

You go faster, rolling your hips up and down in waves, the knot inside of you building. You know you won’t hold out much longer, and all you want is to finish. 

Ramattra considers stopping, lifting you up and ruining your orgasm. But he’s not that cruel. At least, not for the first one. He wants to see you come undone, he wants to see how fucking pretty you’ll be when you cum for him. 

It only takes a few more seconds before you’re clenching around him, muscles spasming and pussy gushing. He holds you still during it, large hand stroking your head, trying to keep you calm while you thrash around wildly. 

You let out a sigh of relief, rolling off of him. “Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “I wasn’t really thinking straight and—”

Ramattra is on top of you, caging you in to the bed with his body above yours. “Who said I was done with you?”

You swallow hard. “I-I don’t think I can take another one.”

“You can,” his hand trails down your stomach, thick fingers starting to work on your clit, “and you will.”

You suck in a breath, your legs spreading against your will. You’re so wet and warm and waiting for him, your pussy practically begging to be opened up by him. He circles the tip of his finger around your entrance, admiring the way you clench the air in anticipation. 

He slips his finger inside of you. Just one of his fingers is so thick, so long. He reaches places you could never dream of reaching on your own, filling you up so damn good. He works you open, watching you writhe beneath him and whine from the sensitivity. 

It doesn’t take much to stretch you out enough to slip another finger in, the omnic pumping in and out of you at a brutal pace. You’re thrashing around so wildly that he keeps a hand on your stomach to steady you, pushing down and creating a pressure against the fingers he has inside of you. 

He can feel your muscles starting to tense again, hear it in the way you’re whining. He knows you’re not going to last long. He curls his fingers inside of you, trying to get you closer to your orgasm. 

You’re so close, you can taste it. You thrust your hips into his hand, desperate to finish. You can feel it, your whole body is begging for it. 

And then he pulls out.

You don’t waste a second in trying to shove one of your hands between your legs. Ram catches your hand before you can even touch your oversensitive clit, grabbing both of your wrists in one of his hands and pinning it above your head. 

“Do you want to finish?”

You nod furiously, looking at him with your messy hair and pleading eyes. “Y-yes, god, so fucking badly.”

He trails his other hand up your thigh, going so painfully slow. You arch your back, whimpering. Just before his fingers can slide back into you, just before he touches you, he pulls back. 

“R-ram!”

He squeezes your wrists in warning, reminding you who’s in control here. “You finish when I say you finish. You want to be good for me, yes?”

You nod. 

“Good,” he sounds pleased with your answer, and trails his hand back up your thigh. 

His finger barely grazes your clit but you shiver, arching your back off of the bed. He can’t help but laugh at your desperation, the way you’re so whiny and needy for only his fingers. The way you’re so desperate to be fucked by an omnic almost double your size. It’s so dirty, he loves it. 

He finally shoves two fingers back inside of you, returning to his earlier pace without letting you adjust. That burning need to cum mixed with your sensitivity from earlier and the way he’s so lost in your pussy is all too much for you. It only takes a few thrusts before you come undone around him. 

This time is way more intense than the first, walls spasming around his fingers. He releases your wrists, letting you arch your back and whine beneath him. 

He waits for you to catch your breath for a minute before leaning in close to your ear and whispering, “do you need more?”

You shake your head. Your skin is already feverish and sweating from cumming twice, and your pussy is so sensitive you’re not sure you can take much more. 

Ramattra slaps your pussy hard, staring at you expectantly. “Do you need more?” He emphasises each word with a slap, admiring the way you gush with each one. 

You like pain—he’ll have to remember that. 

“Y-yes!” You gasp out, clenching your thighs together. “I need more. I-I need you.”

He hums in satisfaction, happy with your answer. “That’s the slut I know.”

His words fluster you, making your head even dizzier than it was before. It’s so brash, so unlike him, but you love it. You love how he’s treating you like an experiment. 

Ramattra gets onto his knees in front of you, messing around with the plate just below his abdomen. Omnics aren’t built for breeding, they aren’t meant to procreate. But through years of the evolution of technology and omnic-human relationships, modifications have been made. 

You’re shocked to see Ram remove his plate, revealing a tentacle like cock made of the same organic metal as his body. It’s long and thick, and it’s bigger than anything you’ve tried to take before, but all you want is to feel it inside of you, stretching you out. 

Ramattra laughs at the size difference. He’s already much bigger than a human, and he knows that extends to every part of him. He knows that by fucking you he’ll be ruining you for every human man after, but he doesn’t care. Those human men can’t have you—no one can. They don’t deserve you. 

He lines up the tip at your entrance, rubbing his cock through your folds and gathering up your juices on his length. It’s such a funny feeling for him, you feel nothing like he expected but he loves it. 

He slowly pushes his way inside of you, feeling your gummy walls stretch around him. You whimper, desperately wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He pushes his way deeper, his cock stopping just past halfway. 

He frowns. “You can take more than that.”

You shake your head, toes curling. “Too deep,” you protest. 

He pulls out and slams back in, trying to force more of his length inside of you. He’s so much bigger than you, so much bigger than anything you’ve taken before. He completely stretches you out, reaching places you never knew were there. 

He picks up his pace, slamming his hips against yours in a way you know will leave bruises tomorrow. He’s so deep inside of you, you can hardly take it. Regardless of the pain and the stretch, you find yourself lifting up your legs to give him easier access. 

Ram uses this as an excuse to force himself deeper, hips colliding with yours with every thrust. He trails his hand down your stomach, squinting when he feels the slight bulge in your abdomen. He looks at it in shock—is he really that deep inside of you? Are you really that much smaller than him?

It only drives him to fuck you harder, throwing your legs over his shoulder in a mating press. You’re a moaning mess beneath him, crying out so loudly he’s sure half the monastery can hear you. Good, they’ll know who you belong to. 

You’re almost sobbing from the pleasure, alternating between squeezing his shoulders and burying your head in his neck. Everything is so hot and sensitive, and he’s so big and so deep you can feel him everywhere. But you want more. You need more. 

You moan out his name and please like a prayer. You’re not even sure what you want, what you need. Your brain has practically turned to mush at this point, and you’re getting close to the edge. 

Ram can feel it too, and his cock vibrates in response. The feeling makes you shiver, only begging him to fuck you harder. You’re so close, so so close. All you need is a little more…

His cock pulses again and you come undone, tugging him close to you while you cum. Everything is so hot and wet and the faint feeling of him fucking you through your orgasm only drives you even more. 

Your orgasm is enough to bring him close to his, cock vibrating steadily as he thrusts into you sloppily. He’s so desperate, collapsing on top of you in an attempt to get as deep as possible. 

Finally, he lets go. There’s a hot warmth spreading through your stomach, and you look up at him through teary lashes. “Did—did you just…?”

“Organic nanites,” he explains, smoothing your hair back. 

You nod slowly. It feels so good you don’t care, he could keep fucking his nanites inside of you all night as long as he makes you feel this good. 

It’s not long until you’re starting to drift off to sleep again, your head on his chest and a leg around either side of one of his. Ram strokes your hair, admiring how fucked out you look. There’s still more that he wants to try with you, but there will be plenty of sleepless nights for that in the future.

[lightlycareless]

I saw your posts about how Naoya doesn’t want a third in his bedroom activities with Y/N and how he reacted with Naoaki. But do you think that Naoya would ever let Toji join in as a third? I can’t quite tell if he would or if that’d be even more intimidating to him since he couldn’t think how you couldn’t be super into it with Toji. It probably wouldn’t happen either way since you mentioned in one of works that Y/N is intimidated/a little scared of Toji

Hello!!

Not going to lie, I’m really happy something like this popped up in my ask hahahahah I was waiting for it!! It was inevitable, you know???

But now, going onto a more serious note—

After thinking about it and really wanting to say that Naoya wouldn’t share you even if it was Toji we’re talking about… because like, he admires Gojo but he wouldn’t allow that with him, right?

However, the admiration he has for Toji is at a completely different level compared to anyone else, and if he began to show the simplest of interests in Y/N, there’s no doubt in my mind that Naoya would try to create interactions between the tw, so they’d get to know each other, spend time, that kind of stuff.

 But does that mean he’d allow him to fuck you?

… Toji would first have to show interest in you like that in order to even be considered.

Warnings: mentions of infidelity (I’d go with dub-con at this point) mentions of pregnancy, and Toji mocking Naoya in all crude ways possible. Also, someone likes this kind of stuff a bit. (honestly this is me just wanting to write something with toji. the actual answer is on the bottom lol) SMUUUTTTT MINORS DNI.

a sequel can be found here.

It happens soon after you’re brought to the estate.

You’re the newest addition to the Zen’in clan: a bright smiled, innocent looking girl that surprisingly (not really) fell into the claws of the heir.

Toji had become accustomed to the women that caught Naoya’s interest—the type that would make anyone think “of course he likes someone like her.”

But they never lasted beyond two sightings before he was already with someone else, and certainly, no one ever thought of them as suitable candidates for marriage.

Eventually they stopped appearing all together, and for a long time, Naoya was single as he could be… until you arrived.

Someone so… different to Naoya in every sense of the word, far outside his typical interest, or malleability. Yet you managed to not only catch his attention but persuade him into marriage—and it seemed you wanted him too.

It’s safe to say that these things made Toji deeply intrigued by you—and not only because of your outstanding merits towards his seemingly unconquerable cousin, but also because on a personal level, he found you a beauty hard to ignore, much more delightful than those before you, and soon, he finds himself somehow understanding why the wimpy heir decided to marry you.

But his amazement doesn’t stop there, reaching a new high when finally meeting you, face to face, for the first time. It wasn’t just your aura, which he considered to be highly unfitting to the surrounding environment, that affected his perception, but the way you treated him as well.

Even when intimidated by his presence— just as he expected, used to it by now—you still remained amicable towards him; to the disgrace of the Zen’in, the stain in the family lineage no one even dared look at, less mention.

Not to you though. To you, he was Naoya’s cousin, his admiration, the one he sets as inspiration when it comes to strength, partaking in small talk whenever possible before retreating, but not without expressing how you’d like to see him around more often, perhaps even drink tea together one day…

Toji is completely smitten by you at this point, and the question of how you even set your eyes on Naoya, when there were so much better options, quickly settles in his mind.

But perhaps how you managed to inundate his thoughts, to the point you are all he thinks about, is the bigger question in turn.

The topic of a threesome is nothing more than a fantasy to him at that point— highly unexpected, if not impossible, and completely avoided…

That is, until tensions between you, Naoya, and Toji, become far too much to ignore.

It would start with Toji complimenting you, like the devil whispering against your husband’s ear, he’d say…

“You have a beautiful wife, Naoya.”

And your husband is somewhat elated to see that his idol approves of you, somewhat seeking his approval one way or the other.

But after his words become more cryptic, to say the least, hesitation begins to flourish in Naoya’s mind.

“Do you ever wonder she feels lonely after you leave for work? In this wide, cold manor… it’s impossible not to—I know all about it, after all.”

“… is there something you want, Toji-kun?”

Here is where the idea finally makes its appearance in your and Naoya’s conversation—offered by you, shockingly, but not because you were interested, rather, because that’s the conclusion you arrived to after hearing Naoya’s request of, in his own words…

“I want you to spend more time with Toji-kun, so he doesn’t feel… lonely.”

“It almost sounds like you want me to fuck him.”

“I never said that.”

“But you implied it.”

He remains silent.

“Naoya… do you want me… to?”

You were nothing but highly aware of his admiration towards the man. The constant proclamations of his virtues the rest of the clan failed, or didn’t care, to observe—even going as far to defend him against them when needed.

It gave you a certain happiness to know that Naoya confided in someone that way, pushed him to overcome his limits, so naturally, you’d want to do anything for the man that brought out the best side of your husband.

But you never, not even in your most bizarre dreams, expected his fascination to go to these lengths.

However, as much as you were offended by his indiscreet suggestions, a very deep part of you was also… allured by it.

There is no reason to deny the mystery that surrounded Toji—a kind of atmosphere that even though terrifying to you, you still couldn’t keep your eyes away from him, silently trailing his every move from a safe distance while earnestly wondering what a man like him could spend his time on when away from the estate.

Does he… goes to see someone? Spend the night, or weeks, in someone’s arms whenever he didn’t come back?

Or indulge in shady business as most began to suspect? As the occurring scars appearing on his arms and chest suggested?

It’s not something you’ll get to know, you dejectedly reckon, but you suppose that getting to know him, even if just for a little bit, will make the invitation to your… nightly activities, all worthwhile.

“…so that you won’t feel lonely.” Is the excuse you go with when bringing up the matter to Toji—probably the dumbest one you could’ve given him considering how he doesn’t hesitate to erupt into laughter, amused by this silly, stupid pretext of yours.

As well as infuriated, for the one thing he hated the most right after his family, was being pitied.

“I don’t want you to treat me like I’m some kind of miserable animal.” He scoffs once his glee dies. “Don’t come here, offering things you’re not even sure about, just because you want to feel good at my expense.”

Naoya and you rightfully conclude that not only had you been incredibly immature by going through with this unusual request, which wouldn’t have survived as long as it did have it been literally anyone else, but also, dented whatever little relationship the two had with him—although your concern sustained more for Naoya; you could only imagine how this strain would make him feel…

And yet, even when the foreseeable future had apparently darkened, closing windows for any kind of reconciliation thanks to his disgust towards the whole situation… something in Toji’s demeanor told you he hadn’t given up on the idea.

Whether because he saw the growing, genuine anxiety reflecting on the young couple’s face, or because he was glad his subtle actions finally paid off…

“But who am I to reject opportunities handed to me?” He adds—it’s almost undetectable, but something akin to desire flashes across his eyes. “If that’s what the heir and his lady  want, I’m nothing but your humble servant.”

You and Naoya agree on a night for everything to unfold, one that wasn’t necessarily intruding on his upcoming missions, but also fit in Toji’s schedule.

Either way, it’s safe to say that no amount of preparation could’ve done anything to ease your nerves.

Not even the constant reminder that you agreed to it, and now, had to keep your word.

The idea of inviting someone into your intimacy had always escaped your and Naoya’s minds. The reasoning behind it was simple: you did not want to do something like that in your marriage. It was almost… sacrilegious to even think about it. And Naoya agreed, too jealous to debate otherwise.

So now, that you’re here, waiting in your bedroom, just a few minutes away from those doors sliding open and welcoming that extra person in… it’s as nerve-wracking as you expected.

Almost to the point of calling it off…

But when Toji finally appears, in nothing less than a simple robe… something deep inside your conscience quickly reminds you why you were so willing to accept suggesting this offer, even when you had listed a thousand reasons not to.

You loved your husband very much, and there is no doubt in your soul that he is the love of your life, the future father of your children, the one you will spend the rest of your life with. You cannot imagine any other man in that position, none at all.

But tonight, and only for tonight… you wished to know what it felt to be touched by someone else.

By a man so intimidating, rejected by the same society that brought him onto this world, forced to be unruly, without inhibitions, just to have a chance to survive and eventually becoming nothing but shade, a monster that no one even dared to mutter his name for fear he’d come to haunt their existence—something that your husband never experienced, never had to.

Pristine, upkept, and highly controlling. That’s who Naoya was.

While Toji was like the forbidden fruit, that once the seed of curiosity was implanted in your mind, didn’t take long for you to seek after.

If you were to get one taste, if only a small one, you’ll be satisfied.

And in turn, you’d give him a chance to soil the values you represented: the untouchable wife of the heir, the woman Naoya desperately fought to obtain, the door to the next generation of Zen’in sorcerers…

All crumbling beneath the touch of someone they considered the lowest of the low, a disgrace.

This was supposed to be an affair between the three, with the obvious notion that you were to be shared amongst the two men, as equitable as possible, although with preference for Naoya.

However, Toji’s existence had always marked an exception to all rules, and your husband soon realizes that he wasn’t to be an active participant as he wished to be, and that perhaps, this was a bad idea all along…

Toji found it endearing to see how Naoya was trying to “get you in the mood” by kissing you, as if trying to cheer you up through this amoral endeavor, and do your best to please him, darling!

But the same time, it felt almost as if he were seeing a bunch of virgins discovering what sex was for the first time, which he did not have the patience for.

Feeling rather generous, Toji takes matters into his own hands by swiftly pulling you away from Naoya and forcing you to focus on him—coarse fingertips kneading and grabbing your skin as to remind you who you were doing this for in the first place—all while capturing your lips into a heated kiss that quickly takes your breath away.

“What? Don’t want this anymore?” he breathes hotly against your ear, making you squirm and whine in turn. But while his words were directed to you, his eyes are nothing but locked onto Naoya’s uneasy ones.

Your husband isn’t naïve when it comes to the teasing nature of those around him. How he believes everyone is out to get him, try to get what he has, yet failing miserably.

He’s seen it on Naoaki, how he attempts to get to him through you, teasing you, flustering you, but overall, keeping his attention on you, because after all what said and done, Naoya is still a figure of respect and he wouldn’t dare mess with him directly.

But Toji isn’t like that. He’s nothing like all he’s ever faced before. His cousin is relentless when it comes to disrespecting authority, more so when it comes to your husband. Naoya just makes it too easy.

Maybe it’s another way for him to get back at the Zen’’in. Spit on their faces and let them know that no matter how much they try to isolate him, look away whenever he crosses their paths, act like he doesn’t even exist—

A monkey like him will always find its way around them. To rattle them.

And he wants Naoya to see that.

He wants him to burn the image of his wife being ravaged by a lowlife like him—touching her, defiling her, and…

How she likes it.

“Do you see that? Do you see how well she takes me?” Toji breathes, a smirk on his lips as his eyes remain on the lewd way your cunt squeezed his cock as if struggling to hold him yet trying so hard to keep him inside.

Toji didn’t know whether to laugh at the seemingly too good to be true notion of the innocent, naïve, well liked by everyone wife of the heir throwing her hips back into him whenever he plunged his cock deep into her pussy.

At the way you’d moan whenever he abused that one spot that made you even tighter, the squelches of your greedy pussy evidently enjoying how your walls are being stretched, in ways it hadn’t as he was able to discern from Naoya’s size, or the squeals you’d gift him whenever teasing your asshole with his fingers, slapping your ass soon after, one of the many markings he’ll leave behind of this unforgettable night…

But most importantly, at the fact that Naoya was completely aroused by a man defiling his beloved wife. Because as much as he wished to place himself above it all, like he was hating the idea of sharing you, his throbbing cock and occasional rub in efforts to calm his frustration gives him away.

“Are you getting off with this, Naoya?” Toji would refer to him yet again, pace unrelenting as he subdues you beneath him. You can’t show it, but you’re glad you’re unable to see your husband’s face—it’s much too shameful to do so, if not terrifying.

But thrilling

“With the sight of your loyal wife, oh so dedicated to the heir…”

“St—Stop it To—Toj—ah!” you gasp when he pulls you by the hair, raising your face and forcing you to see Naoya, but with all the pleasure he’s giving you, you’re simply not there. “T—To—ji…!”

“And yet, here she is. Taking a monkey like me, right in front of your dear husband, like her life depended on it!”

“N—No…!” is what you manage to gasp through the brief seconds of awareness, doing your best to not show the feelings he was pushing your body through—obviously failing. “Don’t—don’t say—!”

You weren’t oblivious to this treatment.

After all, Naoya could be rough, borderline cruel, teasing, and yet…

He was nothing compared to Toji.

It’s always been like that. Even when many denied it, Toji was just on another level, and if his merits in the world of jujutsu didn’t show that, your incessant moans proved so.

“To—ji—Toji….!”

Naoya had long begun to feel as if he were watching something he shouldn’t—as if he were intruding on a couple’s intimacy, and not as if he were your husband, the partner in question…

But with the way Toji was fucking you, manhandling you into positions he wasn’t even aware he could do, less you tolerate… it’s like he was the one invited over for a threesome, and not the other way around.

“Look at her, Naoya.” He smirks, licking his lips as he continues pounding against you in the nth position that night—the one Naoya hated the most, for it forced him to take a good look at what was happening to you.

Toji had you with your legs raised, arms keeping you still and hands locked behind your head as his cocked plunged deep and viciously deeper into you, a lewd sight that Naoya couldn’t avoid due to the nature of this position.

Naoya could take any situation, perhaps even naively hoped that he would be able to withstand more of this if he didn’t get to see how Toji fucked you…  but he knew he had lost control of the situation the moment his cousin set his eyes on you, and now, couldn’t do anything but stare at the libidinous fact of his cock claiming your entrance repeatedly as you lose yourself into the pleasure.

“Look at the way her cunt takes me.”

Your husband doesn’t respond, he can’t, not when his gaze is solely focused on your blank eyes, mouth agape, drooling, while your moans reveal the overwhelming extent of pleasure he knows he’s never given you.

“She’s squeezing me so tight, it’s like she doesn’t want to let go!” Toji laughs, and really, he’s happy you don’t—this is confidently a thrill he hasn’t experienced in a long time, if ever!

It felt almost demoralizing to do such a thing, but yet, what will a man like him know about morale? Or even care after all the horrible things he’s gone through?

“Do you even fuck her right, cousin?”

He looks forward to keeping this moment in his heart till the end of his days…

If not longer, as the revelation that suddenly crosses his mind implies, the only moment that would snap you and Naoya out of trance when acknowledging this wasn’t just senseless rambles of a man drunken in pleasure, but a threat to their relationship, if not the clan.

“I can’t wait to see the look on everyone’s faces once they figure out you’re pregnant with my kid.”

“Toji, don’t—” Naoya gasps, eyes snapping to his.

“N—No, To—Toji! is what little manage to muster before Toji locks you in on place once more, as if reminding you of your position before one of his hands snakes down to tease your sensitive bud, fingers roughly squeezing and twisting it, making you moan and tense as your orgasm pushes you closer and closer the edge—a sensation Toji can delightfully feel building up in his throbbing cock as well. “Ple—please Toji!”

Please what?

Please don’t cum inside you?

Or please cum inside you?

You don’t know at that point anymore.

But not that it matters, it’s not a decision for you to make anyways, not when he continues to plunge his cock against you, deeper as he could reach, bruising your cervix, against that spot that has you seeing stars, a few more strokes, and then—

He cums.

He cums, letting out all of his warm, thick seed into your tight walls, and filling you to the brim. Deep inside your core and with an extravagant amount you couldn’t hold, managing to escape through the rim of your entrance and drip down onto the sheets, a sight Naoya could not peel his eyes away from, reinforcing the overwhelming feeling of wrongness against all, and yet… he did nothing to stop it.

Naoya didn’t fight it, didn’t push his cousin away or even condemn him.

He just watched everything unfold, the same way you did through your hazed eyes, and took it.

“N—No…” you whimper, doing your best to raise your hands onto your face and hide from him, urge him to look away, but you couldn’t, and he didn’t, filling you with shame amidst your orgasm as Toji rubbed out the last wave of your release, unwittingly tightening against his still hard cock, making him moan in your ear. “D—don’t look, Naoya…”

“A baby.” Toji breathes, still high on his release—he doesn’t know if he really means it, or it’s just the side effect of his orgasm, but he’s too drunk to care. “A baby from a disgrace like me and a saint like you—I wonder what will come out of that?”

His cock suddenly slips out of your cunt while adjusting himself, accidentally splash some of it’s seed onto Naoya’s grasp. Your husband looks at it with utter disgust, but he can’t discern whether it’s for the fluid, the notion of you being pregnant with someone else’s child, or that he secretly enjoyed witnessing all this.

“But most importantly…” He breathes, raising his eyes to Naoya once more. “What will you tell the elders once they find out? How will you explain that your wife is carrying a bastard, simply because you wanted to see a disgrace like me fucking her?

“You—you won’t get her—one time isn’t enough.”

“Is that what you tell yourself?” He mocks, Naoya frowns. “I wouldn’t bet on it—"

Toji sighs, taking a deep breath before reaching for his cock, aligning it onto your entrance, giving it a teasing rub or two that quickly has you whining in reproach, trembling at the prospect of another session like this when you’ve barely rested—but moaning when he finally enters you, throwing your head back as he goes all the way back to your cervix, stretching your walls and pushing the rest of his seed out, before nestling the tip just where you he liked and staying there.

He smiles, raising your legs yet again, before beginning to thrust.

“After all, I’m not done yet.”

Neither you nor Naoya would bring this up again.

Keeping it a secret between the two, hoping the third wouldn’t use this as blackmail, offering whatever it took to hide this affair from the clan, even if the answer was one they weren’t sure if they wanted to listen, more so when Toji simply… eased them to not worry, telling them that:

“If I need anything, I’ll let you know.”

Although he knows it wouldn’t take long before one of you approaches him in the future for a similar affair, knows it’ll happen, it’s just a matter of time.

But whether it’ll be you, or Naoya… that’s something he’s thrilled to find out.

Omg. Well, that was interesting to write 😊 So long story short: if Naoya were to know this would happen, he would NOT invite Toji for a threesome hahaha. And in an ideal world, the thought of being with anyone else but your husband is enough to scare you away from it—as I told you, NaoyaxY/n is my way to go. It is what it is. So nope, no threesome with Toji. You're too intimidated by him anyways.

But does that mean I will deny myself from writing things like this? NOPE. Hahahaha I still hoped you enjoyed it!! Now I gotta write the Naoaki one….

Thank you so much for sending in this ask! I hope the hentai plot going on was good lol.

Take care, and hope to see you soon!!

[littlemessyjessi]

“Couple of Chaos” : A Kim Namjoon/RM Commissioned Request: Plus Size Reader, Messy Reader

Kim Namjoon x Reader, Plus Size Reader, Messy Reader, Established Relationship

.

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Prompt: Namjoonie and his partner who is just as much of a mess as him. A darling. A lovely person. Love of his life. But just as much of a chaotic mess as he is, lol.

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“Life is the messy bits.” - Lisa Friedman

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Headcanons:  How Namjoon and Reader deal with the both of them being messy as hell. 

First and freaking foremost, you’re both disasters

just full on

You’re both equally chaotic

one as bad as the other

and yet ya’ll will get on each other’s nerves so bad with messes

like…. ya’ll both do it and yet when it’s the other person it’s somehow terrible

hypocrites, the both of yuns

that being said, in a way, ya’ll kinda complete each other

Namjoon is a perpetual passport loser right? 

And I’ve lost count of how many times he’s lost his air pods

Well, cue…. you

His personal storage locker… or purse.  Whichever you want to refer to it

If you carry a purse, just snatch his shit from him and keep up with it so this man can actually board a plane

If you don’t carry a purse but wear a bra, stick it in the boulder holder

If you don’t do either, put it in your pocket for him

If you don’t have pockets then you have bigger problems to worry about that Namjoon-ah and his lack of ability to keep up with his shit

Now, assuming that you do have these things, you do this so often that Namjoon just knows you have them. 

Needs chapstick? If you’re in a relatively private company, he just goes into your pocketeses for it

Passport? Ok, so Namjoon is smart as fuck. We get it.  However, he do be having some primo himbo energy at times.  

Picture this: Airport.  Namjoonie lost passport.  “Oh, wait a second.  I know where it is!”  Just turns and sticks his hand in your bra and deep sea dives in the titties until he has found what he’s looking for. Assuming that you have titties. If you don't, well again- homeboy is just deep sea diving in whatever area you're currently keeping his belongings.

meanwhile, the eyes of everyone around him have been scarred and you’ve just been violated in front of the entire airport 

he realizes this in about 3 seconds and all he can do is give you that cute dimpled smile

of course he’s forgiven.  It’s Joonie.  If you don’t forgive him then I’ll be along directly to deliver an ass whoopin'. Let's not play with sweet Namu's precious feelings. He's an angel and a perfectly wonderful person. Fuck with him and you fuck with me. And I have raged stored from the age of three. I am now in my 30s. I have it and I will use it.

so yeah

and going back to ya’ll getting on each other’s nerves

doom piles

There.  I said it.   

Ya’ll both got doom piles and junk drawers and whole ass closets just full of random crap

and you nearly kill each other over it on a regular basis

“Jagiyaaaaaaaaaaa! Come on! There is a full on mountain of stuff here and you can’t even close this drawer.”  

“Namjoon, would you like to discuss the entire guest bedroom full of figurines? Or perhaps, the closet full of books?  Or maybe, just maybe, you would like to explain to me why there is an drawer in our bedroom full of baby things when neither one of us has any plans of having children anytime soon?” 

“....” *Joon bites lip and narrows eyes

“....” *you lift a brow*

“Alright, jagi. My mistake. You hungry?” 

“Yes, I’m starving.” 

“Wonderful.” he smirks.  “Where would you like to eat?” 

Your head slowly turns around. 

You narrow your eyes at his smug ass face. 

“How fucking dare you, Kim Namjoon?” 

And he has the audacity to smirk at you because he knows he bested you cause you can’t decided where to eat to save your life.

Jokes on him though because you just needed a project.  It was sorting through your doom piles but now that he’s pissed you off it quickly changed to annoying the ever living hell out of him. 

Lowkey though, jokes actually on you because Joon loves it when your fiesty and sometimes purposefully does this shit just to rile you up.��

You also know this about him though.  Which is why you left the junk drawer open and also why you got sassy.   

He likes that you’re a mess and you love that about him too.

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"This is the stuff that drives me crazy This is the stuff that's getting to me lately In the middle of my little mess I forget how big I'm blessed"

- This is the Stuff, Francesca Battistelli

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Members Reaction to the Deities of Destruction and Disaster: 

Seokjin:  (A/N: omfg Seokjin you did not have to be so aggressively attractive. And that goes for you too, Namjoon)

Long suffering sigh.  The hyung energy is strong here.   It’s part frustration and part pure bewilderment as to why, how and what even is he going to do with the both of you.  That being said, Seokjinnie thinks the two of you are super cute together.  You definitely get scolded but also, he cracks easily because come on.  Look at ya’ll.  Thanks God every day that Namjoon uses you as his purse though.  He is so tired of standing around in an airport, lol. 

Yoongi:  (A/N: Cue the dreamy sigh. Just look at them. Look at the smiles. Look at the damn ARMS!)

I’m gonna be so for real with you right now.  He does not give a shit about the mess. I mean, don’t get his things in a mess but if you roll up in a 2003 lifted Tacoma, open the door and a bunch of shit falls out… I mean, maybe he might give you a little bit of a lecture but honestly?  That’s ya’ll’s problem, lol.   But also stop losing ya’ll fucking airpods, the both of you.   If a bra works then do that because he will not be loaning you another pair ever again.  And he refuses to talk about why. 

Hoseok: (A/N: Mother of God. I have the fattest crush on Hoseok. Also peep that cute little Kookie. And how DARE you attack me like this, Namjoon?!)

Never in the history of ever was anyone annoyed more by this than Hoseok, lol.  However, he doesn’t bitch.  Oddly enough, he never complains about it.  He never bitches.  He never lectures.  He does, however, come over to hang out and help the both of you clean your mess.  Hoseok is great for body doubling if you have ADHD.  However, if you have an issue with him doing the cleaning it might be an issue.  It makes him itch and he needs to scratch it.   

Jimin:  (A/N: It's unspeakable how much handsomeness is in this gif.)

An actual ANGEL for body doubling if you have ADHD and you’re trying to handle the depression hoarder situation in your bedroom.  Super respectful and understanding.  He just enjoys spending time with his loved ones so he would gladly come help if you want it or just keep the both of you company.  Because clearly body doubling does not with you and Joon together. You just make it a bigger mess.  Acknowledging this: Jimin finds this chaos hilarious and doesn’t do anything to stop.  Ya’ll are wild and unkempt and honestly? Jiminie is here for it. 

Side note: I am particularly attached to Jimin in this gif. Look how beautiful. Look how handsome. I swear, that man is dangerous. We are all very, very, very lucky that he's such a sweetheart because don't act like if he asked you for a kidney that you wouldn't immediately start looking for something to carve with . And if that happened to be a spoon, we'd all just accept our fate. Don't lie.

Extra Sidenote: Namjoon be looking extra delectable. *chef's kiss*

Taehyung:  (A/N: First of all, damn Namjoon. Those arms. Sweet lord. I'm looking, Joonie. Respectfully, of course..... but I do be lookin. Second, does Taehyung not look like the most precious creature in all the land?)

A precious darling. He does not give a shit about the mess.  He just loves his hyung.  He loves his hyung’s love.  Ya’ll are special to him and that’s how you are.  He thinks it is part of ya’ll’s charm and your charm as a couple.  Ya’ll are a messy couple but not in the having your dirty laundry out for everyone to see way. In a “aw, Jiminie, look at them.  They are such tragic disasters but they’re disasters together.” kind of way.  He will find a way to make it romantic no matter what. 

Jungkook:  (A/N: Just Jungkook out here living his best y/n life, honestly, lol. )

Ok, so here’s the thing, lol.  Jungkookie has had his own issues with messes here and there. Also, let's be honest.... he's got the fattest crush on Namjoon, lol. His crush on Namjoon may even rival the crush I have on Hoseok. Like, I kinda doubt it because there ain't much I wouldn't do for that man but still. Jungkook loves him's Namjoonie. He loves all that Namjoon-ah is associated with. He's his biggest fan, lol. With you, it is honestly the same. Like... his hyung is in love? Who is this person that has captured the heart of the most magnificent Namjoonie? If you managed to do that and Namjoon is happy.... honestly Jungkook adores you. Regardless of the hopeless fucking messes that the both of you clearly are. He and Taehyung share this but in addition to this, Jungkookie will literally help you with anything you need. He just wants to hang out with you both so he'll do like his Jimin hyung and either just chill while you sort or he'll help you. Or just hang out in the chaos and not solve anything, lol. He just loves his hyung and he loves his hyung's love as well. It's as simple as that.

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A/N: Thank you so much for reading my content and thank you so much to @alisoncdariel for commissioning this piece! I hope you enjoy it!

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[jacesbeloved]

jace taking care of drunk you headcanons

a/n: sneaked this in while writing my report lol bc i randomly got the motivation !? not rlly proofread but i rlly love the short scenario heheh pls do enjoy and tell me your thoughts or feedbacks in my asks! i love receiving them!

part 1

we’ve seen jace being taken care of but how about him taking care of you?

jace on a normal day is already so caring and patient with you. he’s raised a gentleman and you can evidently see it by the way on how he talks to and treats you with such gentleness and care

always helping you, letting you enter first, holds things for you, helps you with getting dressed, you name it, he’s willing to help you

though he knows your limits when it comes to drinking, he doesn’t really control you that much since he knows you can handle and limit yourself just fine

or so he thought

when you had been invited by your acquaintances in your house for a lord’s naming day, jace willingly went with you for the celebration

sitting beside the different lords and noblemen and women while you had fun chattering around your friends and drinking wine and congratulating the said lord

your friends in your house were a little too fun. giving you cup after cup of fine wine while you drink it up as soon as you are handed it

as the time passed, you grew rowdier

joining the drinking contest on who could finish the big glass of beer the fastest while jace watched you with amusement and slight embarrassment. the trickle of the liquid falling down to your chin as the guests cheered at you when you finish the glass

that was apparently it for you

jace swooping in by your side to hold you up as you stumble dizzily after smugly announcing your victory. swiftly hooking your arms around his neck

“okay, that’s enough”

“but the celebration’s just begun!” you whine, pouting at the prince

he rolls his eyes, of course he does

“we’ve been here for hours, my love. you have the liberty to come back here tomorrow, i can have your breakfast ready and ask for the carriage as soon as you wake so you can stay longer tomorrow”

but you didn’t want to leave the celebration, your mind’s still a little hazy and you didn’t care abt anything at that moment aside from being with your house

you didn’t even know the celebrant tbh

when you used your greatest weapon puppy eyes jace reluctantly let you stay in the celebration but keeping a close eye on you

half an hour of being able to party once more, you waddle back to your betrothed’s lap

“care to go back to our chambers now?”

“yes please”

he chuckles at your reply and you thought he’d just excuse the both of you and help you walk out but no

the man picks you up bridal style and leaves the room with every pair of eyes on the two of you while he nods at the lords in excuse

but you didn’t know about it because you were drunk as fuck until one of your friends told you abt it the following day

you had your eyes closed peacefully while jace took glances of you every now and then, his heart growing bigger at your peaceful state

“gods, i’m truly in love” he thought each time

it was all going splendidly, you two were almost near your chambers and all that

when you woke to jump out of his arms, falling to the stone floor as you vomited your guts out at the grass

“y/n? y/n!? oh gods, do you need the maesters?! call the-“

“gods, it’s just wine jace calm- ough-”

he held your hair and clothing up while you proceeded to deposit everything, his eyebrows furrowed and all that. the guards walking around looking at the two of you with confusion

when you finished, he wiped your mouth off with the sleeve of his top and rubbed your back. picking you up gently as he rushed back to your chambers

he immediately took you to the wooden tub, making sure to bathe and wipe you off of whatever vomit that may have spurted on your face and chest

you watched him with lovesick eyes while he looked at you weirdly

“don’t look at me like that, my love”

“why? i’m just looking”

“you’re drunk, my love. we cannot do it” he immediately shuts you down, trying to make up for it by kissing your cheek and ruffling your hair

you glare at him while he just smiles lovingly at you, focusing on cleaning you up and readying you for bed

despite numerous advances from you, like long kisses and lingering touches which jace had to resist with every bit of patience and self-control that he had, he finally gets to lay you on the bed

snuggling up to your husband that changed into his pajamas as well

“you didn’t drink?” you asked, studying his face as he wrapped his arms around you, letting your head rest on his arm

“i did, just not a whole gallon like you” he laughs at that, you hitting his chest while glaring at him

unlike him, you were a silent drunk

happily letting the air fall silent as your eyes grew sleepier the more jace rubbed your arm in circular motions

the two of you lazily kiss when you look up, sounds of lips moving against one another filling up the room

when one of you pull away, a grin is immediately seen on your faces

he rests his forehead on yours, keeping your body close to him as you teo shared your body warmths

slowly, jace’s smooth voice singing a lullaby in broken high valyrian makes you melt into his arms, sneaking your head underneath his chin as you inhaled his smell

“did uncle daemon taught you that?”

“no, i learned it for you. the lullaby”

a small smile creeps onto your lips, thankfully you had your head smooshed into his neck so he couldn’t have seen it

when he felt you already snoring by his chest, he pressed another kiss on your forehead while tightening his hold on you. making sure that you’d feel safe even if you’re already sound asleep in his arms

part 1 <3

[bibbykins]

Moonlight Reign Ch.1

A/N: Instead of forcing myself to focus on one series at a time, I'm planning to write what sparks joy to write in the moment and post it as I go! Hopefully this will clear some wips and help me feel less disorganized lmao! Not to say I'm not working on THB, I def am I just want to have something to post as I work on THB and the bigger projects like the LWAB fics among other things! So (hopefully) I'll keep these chapters limited to 5-7k, but we'll see lol pls enjoy and send me asks I thrive on them and so does my motivation!

And a huge thank you to my wonderful B @rapline-heaux for beta-reading ily!!

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yandere! Mafia! BTS x Reader

Words: 5.7k

Warnings: crime, sensory flashbacks, trauma, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior not rlly in this part but soon, pining, violence, past abuse, past neglect, academic neglect, stitches, drunk Jungkook, tackling, pinning someone down, mention of open relationship, poly is the norm is this au

“It’s time to go now.” 

1, 2, 3, 4

“Five years after the fall of the underground power family, Moon Corporation, people still suspect an even more powerful company has taken their place since…”

1, 2, 3, 4

“It’s… so red…”

1, 2, 3, 4

“The exposure beheld more answers than questions, but on the five-year anniversary of the suicidal explosion that killed the head, Moon Byungyeol and his daughter, the elusive green-haired girl who was 18 at the time, colleagues mourn in secret and establishments fear an anniversary heist or something worst than last year as the date rapidly approaches…”

1, 2, 3, 4

“Locals have several theories on the big conglomerate that now controls Seoul’s business, underground and above, with the mafia organizations and gangs running rampant, people fear the government is under their thumb as well…”

1, 2- SHUT UP

You inhaled deeply as if just surfacing from the drowning body of water residing in your brain. Your fingers stilled from the tapping, a  desperate attempt to make you surface, a sorry technique your brief stint in therapy drilled into you. Maybe having nothing led to illogical personal connections with a number. Of all your training as an heir, it was the mundane basic curriculum lessons that fascinated you the most. You were never good at math, but you loved to be perplexed by the numbers. It was a humbling experience, and in your fruitless calculations, four was always the easiest to wrap your head around. Of course, you didn’t know how humbled you’d be until you were a 20 year old trying to figure out how to do middle school math. Your education left much to be desired growing up, but you still enjoyed learning. 

You used to be convinced four was too perfect of a number for such an ugly world, and though you let go of the notion with your past life, it didn’t change that it was a world you had to feign blind to now. In your youth, four was a beautiful result of a simple equation, a funny origin to big numbers. It was a warm hug among the violent reactions when you’d get questions far below your intended grade level wrong. In a world where stuffed animals were banned from your childhood room, the number four was all you had. You didn’t particularly like how pathetic that made you feel, but it didn’t change how much it helped you on days like these.

Your palms retracted from their firm placement on the wall you leaned on, relaxing you. Releasing your slightly curled fingers, you stifled a bitter laugh at the desperate attempt to grasp onto something. It was always so degrading to scrub off the marks your acrylics made along the wall, but the stiletto nails made taps loud enough to bring you back. It was an absolute mystery how the school you worked at let you get away with these. 

Your little episode was finished as you settled your mind with the news continuing to drone on. You massaged your jaw, sore from the subconscious clench you were cursed with. You blew out a sigh as you felt your face and nodded when no tears were felt. Your phone buzzed, alerting you to the time and you groaned. Your damn neighbor would be here any minute now.

Jungkook wasn’t a mean guy by any means, quite the opposite. He was extremely insistent on your well-being, so much so it bordered on doting, and such behavior made you clam up. You didn’t know how to respond to his fussing over you. Hell, you didn’t know how to respond to most interactions outside of your old family business for a long while. That was just one of the many things he taught you, and he never once lost his cool doing so. He was patient with you, and you didn’t know how to thank him for it. 

You both had been in the same class when you attended university, and while you were fine with letting your temporary acquaintanceship go no further than asking for notes or the occasional study session, he was a force to be reckoned with. You just kept running into him and when you moved here and found he was your next-door neighbor, you knew there was no getting out of it. He was going to be your friend. Although, you never understood why he wanted to be so bad. 

Cut to a whole year after you both graduated, and it still didn’t make any sense. You both were polar opposites in a lot of ways. He was the regular party boy always at clubs and coming home at ungodly hours of the night. Meanwhile, you were usually in bed by 11:00 pm and only left your apartment for the job that barely covered your rent. Needless to say, you weren't exactly a social butterfly, so if you found one friend in Jungkook, you figured it wouldn't be such a crime.

However, having Jungkook as a friend meant having a weekly dinner with him as he mooched off of your TV and you mooched off of the food he paid for. It was an even enough exchange. Plus, it was nice to talk freely, or well, as free as you've ever been able to, even if just for a little bit.

You faced the mirror, patting down your hair, thankful for how much healthier it was without the cheap dye job you had done yourself when you were 14, “That green didn’t suit me at all,” You mused, fixing your hair, “Plus it nearly ruined my hair.” You murmured to no one in particular, keeping track of your speeding thoughts as you settled back into Earth. 

Jungkook knocked on the door and you nodded to yourself, “It’s open!” You called and sat down at the table as he walked in, take-away bags in his hands.

“You really shouldn’t leave your door open like that, you know.” He tsked like he always did. It just made sense to leave it unlocked when you knew he was coming, especially if you needed to run to the bathroom so you could finish crying before facing him. Of course, you haven't had to do that in a while, but better safe than sorry. Your issues, for lack of better term, were no secret to Jungkook, and you both knew it, but you liked to avoid having him see you at your most vulnerable when you could help it.

You simply shrugged as you helped him unpack the food, “We’re the only ones on the top floor.” You reminded him, “it would be quite silly of a criminal to come all the way up to the 20th floor.” You chided.

“Still.” He tried to argue but quickly gave up. Jungkook knew by now that you could take care of yourself, but sometimes you wished you’d let him do it for you more often. However, he let this potential argument go, this time. He looked around and narrowed his gaze at the TV, “Why do you still have the news on?” 

You paused and looked up from your food as it prattled on about your family, “I guess I forgot,” You forced your casual tone, “Did you get-”

“Syndicates, huh…?” He echoed the news reporter’s words, eyes fixated on the screen with a curious look, “The news is so weird with this stuff.”

The chopsticks in your hand stilled. You wanted to say that the syndicates were even weirder since they were the ones that probably signed off on the script. As a little girl, that was the first thing you had learned, how to play chess outside on a park bench, how to play chess crushing people in your hands as you moved them. It had all been the same to you for far too long. 

“Like I care, it’s just background noise.” A lie, you hated lying, but it was something you had to get used to doing for the sake of your safety.

“You aren't scared of these guys at all?” Jungkook looked at you like you were crazy, although his eyes didn't match the rest of his face's intensity.

Shaking off the weird notion, you rolled your eyes, “A world without you buying me dinner is pretty spooky but that,” You gestured to the TV, “Is a cheap haunted house in comparison to the hell of making dinner or worse, ordering it myself, on a Friday night.” You giggled.

Jungkook rolled his eyes with a scoff, “Is that all I am to you? A sugar daddy?” He asked in mock offense and you nearly spit out your drink.

You swallowed roughly before glaring at him as he laughed, “If you’re my sugar daddy, I need a new one.” You retorted and his laugh died while a childish pout settled on his face, “I mean, all I get is a measly dinner once a week and I still have to work and pay my bills?” 

“Well, what do I get, huh?” He crossed his arms, and it made you chuckle. Laughter had never come easy to you growing up, and it still had a hard time coming to you but after years by Jungkook’s side it was easier than ever to do, “Where’s my sugar?” He thrusted his cheek toward you, tapping on it with his index finger.

You rolled your eyes in spite of the flutter in the pit of your stomach and pushed his face away with your index finger, “My presence is your sugar, dummy.” You teased and how easy it was to be human around him made you smile wider, “Plus I let you watch your silly little shirtless men.” 

He clicked his tongue, “First of all, if you’re going to call them shirtless men, at least call them hot because look at him.” He pressed a button on your remote and his favorite fighter, Park Jimin filled the screen, “Second of all, it’s literally fewer syllables to just say MMA fights.”

You took a bite of your food and shrugged, “Don’t you have, like, a million boyfriends? Wouldn’t you make them jealous drooling all over Jimin?” You challenged, vaguely remembering Jungkook saying he had more than three boyfriends at some point. Not that it was surprising, most people had at least two significant others. Unless they were you, of course. You had no one to talk to but the man sitting in front of you, forget about a significant other. “He would make me pretty damn insecure.” You chuckled.

Jungkook scrunched his brows at you, “Six.” He corrected, mirth filling his eyes already.

You looked from the TV to him, “Hm?” You tilted your head to the side.

“I have six boyfriends, thank you very much.” He stated matter-of-factly, and you rolled your eyes at his tone, “Why? Are you trying to give me seven significant others?” He feigned a scandalous gasp, “Well, the relationship is open, you know, so I guess I could pencil you in–” You cut him off by shoving a piece of chicken in his mouth with a glare. The teasing made your chest seize for a split moment when faced with his teasing smirk, so this had been the best way to shut him up. 

Jungkook had always been a flirt, he often relished in teasing you to see how embarrassed you would get. Thankfully, over the years you had gotten used to it. You had already known his relationship was open since he mentioned how often they’re all apart, but you didn’t care to entertain that kind of intimacy with Jungkook even in your thoughts these days. It was just better that way.

“Ha, ha, we got a comedian.” You deadpanned and before you could say anything else, something on the screen caught your eyes, “What the fuck?” You mumbled.

“What?” Jungkook inquired as he looked at the TV, swallowing the food you fed him.

The camera had panned over the crowd and over an eerily familiar face poorly covered with sunglasses. The etching of a scar peeking out of the cheap frames told you all you needed, though. That was your uncle. 

What the hell was he doing showing his face? Let alone this close to the five-year anniversary of everything. The new syndicate in charge took great joy in celebrating the fall of your family, no doubt they’re itching for someone to make an example of someone. Worry tried to leak its way into your veins, but you fought it. Why should you care about him? If he wanted to sign his death certificate, that was on him.

Still, the sight of a man you were almost positive you’d never see again made you feel uneasy. You’d acclimated to regular life quite well, so one of the few remnants of your past life appearing like a ghost was ominous. In spite of your unease, you couldn’t look away. Almost as if you were waiting for him to poof away. You kinda wished he would. 

The camera changed and you finally blinked.

“N-Nothing.” You finally said, shaking your head, “I just thought I recognized someone, that’s all.” Your hands trembled for the briefest of moments as you lifted food to your mouth.

“Oh really, who?” Your only friend asked curiously and you shrugged as you chewed.

“Just some teacher that called in today.” You lied and it made your food taste sour for a moment. It was for the best you lied, you had to keep reminding yourself of that. 

“Hell, I’d call in too if it meant I could see the fight live.” You were thankful Jungkook dropped the topic and let your shoulders relax. You shouldn’t feel bad for lying, really. An unspoken rule between you both was that you never pried about private details. Jungkook led his life and you led yours. Hell, you don’t even know what he does for a living, but it wouldn’t surprise you if it was living off of his boyfriends’ income. Not to mention you didn’t even know if he lived with anyone else next door or if that was just a place of his own to use on occasions. Though, you couldn’t help being a little jealous at the idea of being so pampered. 

“Yeah, I could go for a silly little shirtless man fight on occasion.” You shrugged with a cheeky grin. 

“Silly?!” Jungkook guffawed, “I’ll have you know if he wins this fight, he’ll qualify for the championship, so this is pretty high stakes.” He toted his knowledge of the sport.

“Hasn’t he already been champion like a few times now?” You asked, barely following.

“Yeah, but, he’s been off his game this season for… personal reasons, so he’s never been this close to not qualifying.” He admitted, and your brows scrunched at the melancholy in his eyes. 

“Damn.” You mustered, “How do you know all this?” You asked, genuine curiosity lighting your eyes.

Suddenly, Jungkook’s cheeks reddened as he tore his eyes from you, “Interviews and stuff, you know.” He waved his hand dismissively and you rolled your eyes. 

“Nothing wrong with being a fanboy.” You chided, “I’m certainly in no place to judge.” You offered, reminding him of your fixation on TV dramas, making him snort before you both honed in on the TV.

These fights were quite fascinating and allowed you to at least tap into some of your training. It was how you knew that Jimin was going to win this fight from the first calculated punch, his form was immaculate and instead of going for the face, he drove his fist into his opponent’s ear. It was a dirty trick, but it was more than enough to give him an opening. 

“Holy shit, I think he might win this.” The fanboy across from you breathed. 

“No way he isn’t going to win.” You confirmed.

“Don’t get my hopes too far up.” He all but squeaked out, basically on the edge of his seat.

After a couple of rounds and idle chitchat, the fight ended with Jimin as the victor. You clapped lightly, but Jungkook was so elated he hugged you as he let out a celebratory roar. The first couple of times he did this shocked you so bad your hands almost went to snap his neck. Now that you were both years into the friendship though, the gesture just made you chuckle. Soon after, just like it did every match, Jungkook’s phone vibrated and he had to leave. He always left you with some kind of affection and this time it was a kiss on the cheek, a rare one, but not a huge step from the common forehead kisses he gave you.

“Don’t drink too much.” You warned and he flashed you a cheeky smile, “At least don’t get into trouble.”

“We’ll see.” He chuckled,  and you rolled your eyes.

“Well then don’t make it my problem!” You yelled and he waved a hand as he closed your door behind him. 

—

“Father?” You whimpered as a strong hand patted your head to calm you, or soften the blow of what was to come, you couldn’t quite tell, “Tell me you didn't.” Your voice was in shambles as you trembled beneath his palm.

The news mocked you as panic took a hold of your body, shaking it out of the shred of blissful ignorance you had clung onto. Ever since your father took you in, you had many responsibilities, but the comfort of not needing to keep up with the public facade kept you going. You hated the public, all the pleasantries, and honeyed words. None of it made sense, and now, now you felt foolish for not involving yourself more. For not ensuring that something like this could never happen and crumble the only world you’ve known. 

Still, even as despair monopolized your nerves, a tear wouldn’t fall. You weren’t sure if you knew how to shed them, but you knew it would only piss off your father. 

Moon Byungyeol was a rough man and calling him father teetered between feeling genuine and like a formality. He was a boss first, but sometimes he wore the mask of a dad. Sometimes, but it was enough times with enough gusto that you couldn’t tell which side of him best represented his true self– or if he even had a truthful bone within himself. 

He may have been rough, but he was all you had. He and the family he brought you into had been your first priority all your life, even when you had never really been his priority at all.

Not unless you could be used as currency. 

“Y/n, it's time for us to go,” His voice was somber, but even. You’d never seen him so outwardly upset, but even so, he didn’t so much as let his eyes water as his life’s work shattered before his eyes. He was left with a subdued longing as he looked at the TV, melancholic defeat infecting his usually strong posture, “I let this greed consume me, and I'm afraid it's begun eating not just me alive now.” He admitted and it made you feel ill. 

“...such evidence is linking the Moon Corporation to heinous organized crime activities painting them as a possible syndicate, but no arrests have been made nor has a formal criminal investigation on Moon Byungyeol himself been launched, but many workers under the company are being investigated due to possible involvement…”

Everything was dying. The realization that everything you did, all the lives you took, all the training you had suffered through, had never been for some prosperous empire you were promised. All of it had been to supply the lining of your father’s and uncle’s pockets. You should’ve been angry, shocked, or even appalled, but you weren't. You were numb to the fact that you were raised on lies. Fear resided in your veins about what that meant for you. 

“If I just cash out and retire, we could never live in peace,” He shook his head as he switched off the TV before he placed his hands on your shoulder, catching your attention, “But Uncle Byungjoo has a plan that I think might just work.” You swallowed hard at this. Anything Byungjoo could think seldom meant good things for you. On your best days with him, you were a mere afterthought, but on the worst days– most days– you were–”The only thing is that you and I will have to… separate…”

He was going to abandon it. No, he was going to abandon you. The only thing more pitiful than your fear had to be your shock. What reason did you truly have to be surprised that he was throwing you away just as easily as he picked you? He was going to cash out one last time, and leave like this whole operation meant nothing to him. All the while you had put an inkling of faith in his heart to love this empire, like a fool. At the very least, it was the closest thing to love that you knew. This entire place was all you knew. When was the last time you had gone out on your own as anything but his daughter?

“But…” Your mouth was woefully dry, “The empire, just like you said, it’s-”

“We were never an empire,” His self-loathing clung to each word and disgust curled in your stomach as you looked at his solemn face, “I treated this organization as a bank, a money maker, it was inevitable that the paper I cradled would catch fire.” The roundabout way he was speaking began to grate at your nerve. The pseudo-poeticism of his words did nothing to save his dignity, but you didn’t tell him that. 

You didn't scream, yell, or cry. 

At least you hadn't, yet.

“Then who will rule Seoul?” You wondered aloud.

“That’s not my problem anymore.” He said as if it were the easiest thing to come to terms with.

“Who will stay with me?” You asked meekly, immediately regretting it as you watched his previous words dance on his lips before he decided against it.

He smiled warmly at you and it brought a chill down your spine, “Some of us are meant to be alone.” He patted your shoulder and you wanted so badly to break into pieces from the impact. 

No one would stay with you. Not him, not anyone, and he didn't care.

That wasn't the answer you had hoped for. You hung your head in shame, shame that you expected anything other than a cold answer from a man on fire. The request for him to just kill you was on the time of your tongue before he turned around, ready to attend his last hurrah.

////

You woke up with a start from a bang outside, but considering the fact that it was 4 am, you chalked it up to city noise. Now awake, you stared at the ceiling and blew out an annoyed sigh. You were constantly plagued with flashbacks both in and out of your dreams, and you wished the rancid memories would choose one state of consciousness to haunt you in. Your therapist a couple of years back told you it's normal for people who have gone through what you have to constantly see what you were then in trying to dissect where you are now. Essentially, it was a constant cloud that hung over your head, and no matter how far you removed yourself from that life, its consequences would stay etched into your skin.

Another bang sounded outside your window and you grimaced. Anniversary week was beginning, and you felt more on edge than usual.

Five years ago exactly, you saw the match light. In four days, it will have officially been five years since you saw the flames engulf your home, your family, and everything you were. Each year, this week was chaos for the city of Seoul. Each day was accompanied by an event that slowly grew more and more above ground. It was almost mocking the past, the surfacing of dirty secrets. Secrets the world knew, but never wanted to see, cowards.

The new syndicate at the top of the kingdom was known as Bangtan to the underground scene, but with a “Group” tacked on after the ominous name, they were also the kings of the business world. They were much better at actually hiding their identities, hence why most average people assumed there was no such syndicate anymore or that the “law” took care of it. As if the “law” wasn’t under the thumb of the kings. 

Even so, your information could very well be outdated. The whispers from the underground, also known as the Underworld or even more to the point, Hell, reached your ears less and less as you removed yourself from the lives of anyone who knew who you were. No longer working at the diner your previous nanny ran shut you off from the underground so much so you seldom became aware of Anniversary Week’s events until two days before the main event. 

Another bang, but this time on your door, startled you out of your thoughts, “I can’t believe you went to the bar on a day like today- where are your keys?!” An unfamiliar voice spoke through your door.

“Ask, y/n,” Jungkook’s slurred voice rang out in a yell as you flinched at the volume, “Y/n! I need stitches!” 

This wasn't the first time Jungkook was yelling outside your door, demanding your assistance. This was just another facet of your friendship that you both silently agreed was fine. You never really asked questions, you just patched him up and left him on your couch. It really wasn't any of your business, nor did you have any desire for it to be. Jungkook was an MMA fan, and you knew he was big on that scene and the fitness scene, so it just made sense he would get into fights. You could only hope these fights were agreed upon prior to alcohol, but you weren't naive enough to actually assume that was the case.

“This isn’t even your door, baby, come on.” The voice grunted and your attention peaked. You had encountered a few men trying to help Jungkook home, but you seldom got such an obvious confirmation of their relationship with him, “What? Are you trying to booty call your neighbor?” The unknown man teased and you rolled your eyes. Were they all like this?

“I wish!” Jungkook shouted in response and you were fine with leaving your door closed this time until he spoke, “Ew, I’m dripping on the doormat.”

This made you huff as you hopped out of bed in your large t-shirt and shorts and ripped the door open. You were faced with a man with perfectly styled black hair in a three-piece suit accompanied by a trashed Jungkook with a short, but deep, cut on the corner of his forehead. The man that looked a few years older than you and Jungkook stopped struggling with your neighbor as he looked at you with the most pristine and exasperated face.Everything about this man was polished. Even as your neighbor lazily draped around the man, his suit had barely begun to wrinkle. 

Meanwhile, he looked you up and down with contempt before sighing, “Look, just forget we were-”

“Y/n!” Jungkook cheered before he passed out.

“No booty calls here, sorry.” You remarked flatly, “He usually keeps his keys in his wallet for some reason.” You nodded to his pocket before you looked at his forehead again, “But he does need stitches.” You opened your door a little more, gesturing for them to come in.

The man narrowed his eyes at you, “Do you usually play nurse for him?” You bit your tongue and swallowed his condescending tone with a sigh. You couldn’t tell if he was jealous at the thought of his boyfriend having some neighbor who treats his wounds in the dead of night or if he simply didn’t like you. Although looking at his face, there was no way this man was jealous of you. His gaze was sharp nonetheless, sharp and vaguely familiar, but his eyes held no recognition for you, so you let it go.

“Only when his blood is dripping on my doormat, for the third time this month,” You pointed to the sullied mat that you had just cleaned fully this week, “Bring him in, this isn’t that uncommon-” 

“But-” He tried to object, noticeably a little clammy at the unspoken knowledge of their relationship. 

“Any more blood on that mat and I'm making you pay for it, now come on,” You snapped as he walked in and sat Jungkook in a chair around your table. You shut the door as you pulled your first aid kit out, “You have to sit him on the floor or the couch.”

He complied to the couch, and though he didn’t say anything, you could see the question floating around his mind.

“When he wakes up, he attacks whoever is in front of him,” You spoke, preparing the needle and thread, and you had to ignore the curiosity peaking within you when you saw the other man shift uncomfortably at your comment,  “And I can't stitch and hold him down at the table,” You explained, settling your knees to lock on both sides of Jungkook’s legs and your elbows pressing on his shoulders.

“Aren't you scared he'll hurt you?” The man asked as you began stitching.

You scoffed, “I can play scared if that's what you want, but certainly not for free.” You chuckled, but he remained straight-faced. Tough crowd. You worked very hard to develop your banter skills these past five years, but he paid them no mind making your smile drop. 

Eventually, you just went on stitching in silence until the man broke the silence, “Who are you?” The man spoke mid-way through your stitching.

You paused for a moment, “Didn't you hear Jungkook? I’m y/n, and who are you?”

“None of your concern,” He clipped.

You snorted a chuckle, “You're bleeding on my hardwood floor, that has me pretty concerned.” You gestured to your hand to show him the small cut on his and he slowly grabbed a napkin to press against his hand with his mouth in a thin line, “Concerned for my floor I mean.” You clarified, “But a word of advice? If you don’t want to be suspicious of you, don’t act suspicious.” 

He sighed, “My name is Namjoon-”

You were tying the final knot when Jungkook snapped his eyes open, “Shit.” Was all you were able to get out. He immediately dove at you, pushing you to the floor, making the needle in your hand scratch your forearm before you threw it across the room to avoid the tempting notion of stabbing him with it. You sucked in a breath through your teeth at the burning sensation while you struggled to shake him out of it. 

It didn’t take a genius to deduce why Jungkook’s fight or flight was so concentrated, he’d obviously grown up with a reason to be. Nevertheless, it has never been your place to pry or judge, if anything, it’d be quite hypocritical. He'd seen you in a less-than-ideal mental state plenty of times, to put it lightly. Plus, you knew he didn’t mean any harm, and he was always pretty apologetic after the fact. Although, you were sure the struggle looked pretty concerning as you saw Namjoon scramble to his feet. 

Namjoon was trying to find an opening to cut in between the battle as Jungkook was sloppily throwing his fist down and you were moving your head to dodge each blow. Though his moves were sloppy, they were still fast and you could only dodge for so long. With no other option left, you sighed before slamming your forehead on his fresh stitches to make him stop to register the pain. You took advantage of the opening as you effortlessly pinned his arms down with your knees planted on his upper arms, “Jungkook!” You snapped as Namjoon watched his younger friend finally recognize you in his drunken haze.

“Y-Y/n?” He questioned, his tongue thick in his mouth, “You hurt my head- hey, you’re bleeding on my shirt!”

Your arm had a scratch about half the length of your forearm, it was shallow and oozing blood, but you didn’t flinch, “Wonder who made me hurt both my arm and their head, dumbass,” You muttered, examining his stitches to make sure the impact didn’t affect the new suture, “And you got your blood on my doormat and my forehead, so let’s call it a draw.” You grunted as you fixed the suture.

The sight of someone towering over his boyfriend after headbutting them made Namjoon on edge. Jungkook talked for days and days about how much he loved spending time with his neighbor, but something was… off about you. Why would a school nurse be that skilled in combat? Jungkook was a ruthless fighter and you hardly flinched. 

This string of thoughts prompted his mistake of grasping your wounded forearm to make you stand so he could properly question you. What he didn’t calculate in that movement was the fact that he grasped your fresh cut, which hurt like a bitch. This pain made you bring your other forearm to his neck, pressing firmly into his trachea as his back hit the wall with a bang. You both looked at each other in surprise at your reflex. You gasped softly before releasing him, “Don’t ever manhandle a lady, Namjoon,” You mumbled as you brought distance between the two of you, “I don’t do well being frightened.”

Namjoon regained his composure, impressed by your reaction time and ability to weaken his pride in such a short matter of seconds, “Who are you?” His tone was rougher in comparison to when he first asked the question.

“None of your concern,” You mocked his voice cartoonishly, becoming more and more irritated with his line of questioning, “Now take him, an alcohol pad, and go.” You hissed, unceremoniously tossing the package at him.

He gave you a sharp glare but complied, hauling Jungkook over his shoulder and leaving.  The door shut and you let a relieved sigh escape you. You shut your eyes tightly, frustrated that you let your instincts take over like that. Namjoon was undoubtedly suspicious and that’s the last thing you needed. You opened your eyes and caught sight of the clock nearing 5 am, and it was a Saturday now, so you were going to sleep in as much as you could.

----------------------------------------------------------

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Masterlist

[roxy-writes]

GIRLY DO MAFIA BAKUGOU AND KIRISHIMA X READ AND MAKE IT SMUTTY!!!!!! It's fine if you don't want to😅 BUT IF YOU CAN THAT WOULD BE GREATTTTT!!! LOVE YOU BESTIEEEEEEE 🥰

OK IM DOING IT. also i've lowkey been putting off my asks so if i haven't responded i'll get there soon lol <3 sorry

warnings: not proofread, smut, reader sits on bakugo's lap, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader has a pussy, extreme dubcon, biting, reader gets spanked, noncon creampies, reader cries, dead dove: do not eat

You sat tied to a chair in Katsuki Bakugo's office. You didn't know a lot about what was happening, just that he was a fairly well-known mafia boss and this was very very bad for you. He sat in a comfortable looking chair on the other side of his desk, his right hand man standing tall beside him. Kirishima Eijiro, who appeared way less threatening than his counterpart. But you figured he's probably just as bad as Bakugo, if not worse. You knew pretty much why you were here.

You were taking a walk somewhere, you can't remember where. The alleyway you saw was a nice shortcut, sure, but you probably should've just gone the long way. You didn't really expect to see someone being brutally murdered when you turned the corner, of course. As Bakugo turned to face you, the unknown body slumped to the ground at his feet. You sprinted away in the opposite direction, but you weren't fast enough, and that's how you ended up here.

"I was going to just kill you, but my partner here convinced me otherwise. How lucky you are. Well, I don't really know about that. You'll probably think you're better off dead once we're done with you." Bakugo says. You wonder what the fuck that might mean. "We obviously can't let you go though. You'll have to be of use to us in some other way." You're pretty sure you know what that means, based on Kirishima's hungry look. "Untie her," Bakugo commands, "not like she'll be able to escape." Kirishima moves to follow Bakugo's orders and only then do you notice his teeth. They're razor sharp, and they look dangerous. You figure things can't get any worse from here.

But of course they do. Bakugo makes you sit on his lap, the bump that you feel from under his nice dress pants rubbing against your thigh. He's changed since you first saw him, thank God, so there's no blood on him. You're frozen in place, his hands planted on your ass. There was no denying he was attractive, but this was not a situation you wanted to be in. "Kirishima, what do you say we get he used to how it's gonna be here?" Bakugo says, and fear rushes through your body. You're bent over the table in seconds, your dress being torn off your body. You want to struggle, but you know it won't do anything except anger him. He rips off your bra and panties, and your nipples harden at the cold. He beckons Kirishima over, and the red-haired man crouches down so he's face-to-face with your cunt. You're scared of those teeth being so close to your pussy, but Bakugo keeps you from being able to tilt your head to look at Kirishima. Kirishima's first long lick up your slit has you holding back a moan. "Make some noise, bitch." Bakugo spits, so you stop holding back as Kirishima sucks on your clit.

His tongue enters your hole, making you clench and keen. You're nearly forgetting about what's really happening and starting to focus only on how he's tongue-fucking you. Then his tongue's gone and his teeth are sinking into your thigh. You cry out in pain and squirm, which only seems to egg Kirishima on as he marks your thighs up. One of his big fingers slips inside of you and curls, pressing against your special spot. You cum with a cry as Kirishima licks up the blood dripping down your legs. Fuck, it aches. You hate to admit you're sort of turned on by it, but it still fucking hurts. Bakugo's already pressing his dick to your entrance and pushing in. You're still sensitive and you moan. He's bigger than you thought he would be, but he doesn't give you any time to adjust to the stretch as you expected. He immediately begins pounding into you. He shakes the desk with every thrust, and the edge of it digs into your hips.

Bakugo slams into your cervix. You make a noise of discomfort, and he raises his hand. He brings it down hard on your ass, the sting making tears form in your eyes. He does it again on your other asscheek, and you try not to make too loud of a noise in fear of what he'll do. You just whimper quietly as he fucks you. He's gonna cum soon, you can tell by how much he's twitching inside you. Oh shit, you think, he can't cum inside. You're not on birth control, oh shit, oh fuck, you think. He's definitely not wearing a condom. "No, fuck, don't cum inside, please!" you yell, but he just spanks you again. You feel hot ropes of cum coat your walls and tears stream down your face. You can almost feel him smirk. Kirishima shoots you a sympathetic look from where he was watching. You press your face into the desk and sob.

this is my 100th post lol

[activesplooger]

Progress Update on some WIPS! + teasers! :) | Doe!Reader x Alastor SMUT | Help Me: Part 3 Vox x Assistant!Reader | His New Obsession: Reader x Yandere!Vox

a few days ago i posted a screenshot of some WIPS, and i thought I’d give a progress update! + teasers! i promise im working on everything guys i just want everything to be quality :) ive also been quite busy so, yeah!

Doe!Reader x Alastor SMUT 1/2 DONE

About halfway done! Maybe a lil less than halfway? So far I’ve gotten a lot of the exposition out of the way and im starting to get onto the dirty little smutty part ;) its taking awhile bc ive been busy ALSOO smut is hard asf to write and writing deer themed smut is even harder! lmao guys the amount of deer mating season research ive done is crazy im definitely on some type of watch list now bc of my weird search history lol. I’ve gotten a lot done though! Should be out soon, I’ll let you guys know when itll be out when I get more of it done! A teaser is on my page if u wanna see it!

Help Me: Part 3 Vox x Assistant!Reader

i dont rlly have an exact fraction amount for how much is done lol. i promise i didnt forget about it guys 🙏 i have the whole story pretty much planned out! all the scenes and stuff i want to include (+ the ending duh) are all written down! perchance ill do a bigger teaser tmrw idk sometime this wknd maybeee. I have all the scenes planned out and ik how the whole story is gonna go i just have to articulate it into words and spice it up! :) stay tuned!!

teaser!:

“The Vee's empire grew exponentially and are now the three top overlords in hell. You still worked for Vox, however, your job description changed over the next few years. A lot changed over the next few years…. You went from being introduced as “This is Y/N, my friend and assistant!” to “This is an employee of mine, she won’t be a bother.”.”

this whole paragraph is subject to change, i wouldve done a bigger teaser but im just so unsure about the other paragraphs i might literally delete it all and redo them and i dont wanna edge u guys like that lol.

His New Obsession: Reader x Yandere!Vox

OK THIS ONES SO RANDOM BUT LEMME COOK LMAO. this one has SO MUCH BUT ITS NOT EVEN CLOSE LOL. its gonna be like pretty smutty i think like toxic sweater electrocute my fukin pussy type smut. its gonna be a big one bc im trying not to make it into different parts but that might change. its gonna be a fat minute till it comes out im just chipping away at it every once in awhile 4 fun! :))

teaser!:

“Yes, dear,” Vox gestures to Papermint standing idly in a corner, “This one over here will also be my assistant. You’ll handle the more personal needs of mine while Papermint handles more business related needs.”

“I see…”

Vox, completely entranced by you, puts your resume down and extends a hand out to you across the desk, “Well, that’s all I really need! Congratulations! You got the job!”. Winning sound effects could be heard from Vox’s speakers as he congratulates you.

“Oh! I-Is that it..? No questions..?”

“Nope, I’ve seen enough- Actually, what size are you?”

“Uh… Why?”

“For your uniform, of course!”

(this is also subject to change btw! im slowly doing it its just kind of a fun lil random thing i like to do when i need a break or just feel like it)

—

stay tuned folks! if u wanna be tagged for any of these lmk in the replies!

[sphnyspinspin]

OMG, I’VE BEEN WANTING TO SHARE THIS AU FOR A MINUTE—

Meet my Magnificence Reforged AU Connie!

Though Scorponok only ever referred to her as Experiment: A9-2416 (usually in Decepticon dialect).

Her story is that Scorponok created her as an experiment to see what would happen if an organic was able to produce a set of chemicals that are deemed somewhat powerful, yet common, by organic standards but emphasized to a certain degree with the help of Cybertronian technology. Entirely inspired by the mere Earth-Human conceptual myth known as the—

Indomitable Human Spirit.

What Scorponok was able to take away from eight years of properly caring for the experiment is that these chemicals that fuel basic organic functioning can be utilized exponentially to a degree where a full grown one of these things could even rival some of Cybertron’s strongest warriors. Maybe even the galaxy’s toughest warriors wouldn’t be able to stand a chance.

It became labeled as Adrenalineregon.

(dope naming skills I know)

It turned out to be some crazy-powerful stuff once injected into a strong enough specimen.

Now why would Scorponok need to make something like this? Power? Recognition? Fun? All of the above honestly. But it’s also because in this Alternate Universe the Decepticons won the war for Cybertron, and Megatron has already built his perfect Decepticon Army to conquer the rest of the known universe, and he and the Grand Architect thought their Army of Tarn clones needed a little more pep-in-their-step.

You heard me. TARN. CLONE. ARMY.

(this isn’t a specifically cyberverse based timeline I just took the tarn army as inspo)

But what they didn’t expect was for the Tarn clones to go insane and turn on each other when being on mere drops of Adrenalineregon. Resulting in a mass extinction of Tarn Clones, with too many bodies to count, therefore being dropped on top of Scorpnok’s planet sized lab to remind him of the consequences of his actions.

EX: A9-2416 was, at the time, forever curious about the outside world, since she’s never been above the expansive laboratory planet’s surface. It always felt as if some unseen beings were trying to lead her to her escape every day since as long as she can remember. Small sign after small sign, guiding her to even bigger signs that kept getting her closer and closer to the way out. Of course, Scorponok always stopped her from getting too close.

A9-2416 always hated the amount of gruesome tests she had to do afterwards as punishment for misbehaving.

Until on her ninth birthday, A9-2416 finally made it to the exit, and Scorponok got exceptionally pissed off so much that in self-defense A9-2416 grabbed the nearest cannon she knew how to operate and blasted it through his spark. She cried a lot that day.

BUT HEY! Her life didn’t stay too depressing for long, because soon after she committed her very first act of murder, she became good buddies with the little voices in the walls that have been apparently guiding her throughout her life!

THE LOSTBOT BOTBOTS!!

(lol I’m nowhere near finished with every Lost Bot design, I just wanted to finish these couple few and make this post for the AU)

MEET THE LOST BOTS CLAN OF THE BOTBOTS!

They’ve been trapped on Scorponok’s Lab-planet-tory (im so funny) for decades along with the other Botbots who remained in hiding. But this clan was the only one brave enough to get anywhere near Scorponok’s main stomping grounds. What they didn’t expect to find was some weird sentient purple meat-potato in a makeshift industrial cradle. Turns out it was just a baby. And that baby turned out to be A9-2416. Who soon became known as Connie.

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.

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After A9-2416 escaped the inner dwellings of the lab and joined the Lost Bots on their little side quests up on the surface, she later changed her name to Constance, hence her more well-known nickname being Connie. The name change was suggested by her Botbot friends who knew a bit about Earth human culture and used their knowledge to help Connie have the most happy and carefree life that she could ask for.

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Also the TEG Lost Light crew is there because I’m still obsessed with that fic 👍✨

@deepfriedhopesanddreams @viewer-of-many @celestite-caroline @asmoteeth @novafire-is-thinking @dragonsgirl572 @autistic-fool-with-ideas @mysticfoxdesigns @hyp3rfixation-h3ll

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Can we get a richie fic where he takes reader to his place for the first time? (Can be fluff or smut…or both lol) does he get a lil nervous/self conscious about anything? And what do you think he would do/say when he realizes he wants you to move in with him after a good chunk of time has passed and his apartment feels so empty whenever you’re not around?

Yessss flustered Richie!! I think he’d be nervous about it not being like, spotless. Having to get up early and stuff, he didn’t always have the time (and at the beginning, the discipline) to be cleaning up so much. I don’t think it’d be incredibly messy or anything but definitely lived in. You know what I’m saying?

Anyway!! Let’s dive in :) i’m focusing more on the first time aspect bc i love that concept, hope that’s okay!!

(minors dni, light smut under the cut)

——

“Welcome to, uh, my humble abode,” Richie said as he opened the door.

Immediately, he noticed some dirty laundry and old beer cans in the living room. He cursed himself for not cleaning up earlier, but he’d barely had time.

In a mad dash, he started tidying up, embarrassed about the mess.

“It’s a real man cave,” you teased, both amused and charmed at his nervousness.

“I know, I know. I’m really sorry about all this…” he said as he scrambled to throw clothes in the hamper. “I don’t want you to think I’m a fucking slob or something.”

“It’s okay. You should see my apartment at the end of the work week,” you said, trying reassure him. “Now that is a real fuckin’ mess.”

He returned to the living room a little winded, helping you take off your coat and hanging it for you.

“Yeah, well, maybe we can help each other with spring cleaning sometime,” he muttered, still frustrated at himself.

You turned around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Hey, really, I don’t mind. I know how busy you are, and sometimes things just slip our minds,” you said, getting him to look at you. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. If anything, we’ll probably make an even bigger mess.”

He nodded, a sly grin tugging at his lips as his arms encircling your waist. “That so?”

You nodded, biting your lower lip as you mirrored his smile. “Well, if you give me a proper tour of the place….”

That was all you had to say before his lips were crashing against yours in a hungry, eager kiss. You pressed tighter against him, responding with equal fervor.

Soon enough, your clothes ended up scattered around on the floor. Things started off right there in the living room, with you straddling him on the couch, the cushions tossed to make more space.

Next was the kitchen, accidentally knocking things off the counters as he bent you over them. Otherwise, they were so clean you could almost see your reflection on them.

In the bathroom, he almost accidentally ripped off the shower curtain as you were kneeling in front of him, head bobbing up and down slowly in that teasing way that drove him crazy.

And last but definitely not least was his bedroom, where you had ample room — and ample surfaces — to put to use. Though of course, it was the bed you ended up on, panting heavily next to each other after such a marathon.

Around you, the room looked like a hurricane passed through it. You couldn’t help but laugh, rolling onto your side and draping your arm over his chest.

“See? I told you it could be worse…” you said.

“Yeah, you weren’t kidding. You’re a wild animal,” he joked, both of you laughing.

Despite the fact that he knew there was clean up ahead of him, he didn’t really mind as long as you were there with him. He would gladly clean up all your messes, no matter the magnitude. It was only your first time over, and his apartment already felt livelier than it ever had.

He wanted to make it an evening you would always remember, and since the sun was close to setting outside, an idea came to mind.

“Oh wait, there’s one more spot I gotta show you.”

“Where’s that?”

“The rooftop. Nice view of the stars from up there, if you want to check it out.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, smiling mischievously. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“You fuckin’ bet I am,” he said, giving you a quick kiss before getting up. “I’ll bring blankets.”

——

[kangals]

why is kep so big already!!!! illegal!!! do you know if hes already mostly done growing/ how much bigger will he get based on his parents' sizes?

i knowwwwww 😭 i cant believe he used to be so small and round and now he's already bigger than stellina! like 3 different people in the past week have commented that "he doesn't look like a puppy anymore, he's a dog now" and it makes me proud but also a bit sad lol. (though of course in a few years i'll see pics of him at this age and think 'what the fuck he's still a baby here')

he's definitely not done growing yet, but idk exactly how big he'll get! there's a few different formulas people swear by for calculating weight, and those give me a range of anywhere from like 55lbs to 85lbs. i didn't get to meet his parents but from what i've read of his critiques his dad was a fairly stocky, dense dog. kep's breeder told me that kep "has good bone" (aka was also a stocky, dense puppy) and she estimated he'd be around 70-75lb full grown. i personally suspect he'll end up more in the 60-65lb range, but i may be wrong! i need to weigh him soon but i think he's somewhere in the low 40s currently at 5.5 months.

stellina stopped growing more or less exactly at 6 months haha but she's very petite + female, so idk how different the kep growth projection will look in comparison.

[lightlycareless]

Hiii 🤍

So I got this idea from one of your one-shots, the one where naoya and y/n are doing it in a mission😭

So they are secretly dating in that right ? And I thought about them in highschool AU secretly dating too🤭 And you know her siblings and friends finding out eventually, like I really wanna see naoya and y/n sneaking outttt and those stuff yk, kinda like a forbidden romance 😭

Have a good day 🤍🤍🤍 byeee!

Hellooooooooooo anon hehehe

Thank you for liking that dirty piece of mine 😏 super indulgent, of course. Glad to have it out of my system. (Edit: it said sister, wtf lol)

So anything highschool au related is like my weakness, specially if I get to write things like secretly dating aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Anyways this is a two part story!!! heheheh Didn't mean to, but after that ending, I just had to. :) I hope you enjoy it!!

warnings: none. au. highschool. Naoya is like maybe super ooc, but he adores you so. 💖 it's only expected. FLUFFFFFFF.

Happy reading!!!

Secretly dating Naoya during high school is naturally filled with clandestine meet ups here and there, made possible by you asking for permission to go the “restroom” in the middle of class, only to head up straight to the designated place of reunion: right around the corner of a distant hallway and beneath the stairs, pulled into a tight embrace as soon as you cross his sight, and subsequentially letting you know how much he missed you and how dreadful it was to be away from you for even one second!

“I missed you too!” you would exclaim, wrapping your arms around his neck and attempting to pull him down for a kiss—you always hated how he forced you to stand on your tip toes, all for his seeming enjoyment. “Lean down a bit, I can't kiss you like this!”

But Naoya would only chuckle, letting you struggle a bit more until he finally obliged, taking your lips into another quick kiss before freeing you once again, to meet up later, that is.

“See you for lunch, princess.”

“… Only if you promise to not be mean…”

Naoya laughs.

Even if the two were meant to keep this a secret from the outside world, that didn't stop you from indulging in the things you always wanted to do with him, such as packing an extra box of lunch for him, obviously handmade by you, meeting up at the rooftop of whatever building was empty to have it together, and if he felt in the mood for such, feed him as well.

“Wait, before we eat, close your eyes.”

You’re no longer taken aback by requests of this nature, if anything, it excited you, so you quickly obeyed soon after. Naoya would then take hold of your hands, gently placing a box on them before asking you to open your eyes—a gasp ensued at the sight of your gift.

“No way! These are—how did you even get them?! I thought they were sold out!”

These were none other than the special edition tiramisu mochi your favorite store made just a few weeks ago. The desire to go and get a few was there, but your responsibilities at school were far more demanding, and so, you’d come to dejectedly accept the reality that you might never have them, not even a taste…

Luckily, Naoya's adoration for you (and determination to make you happy) was far bigger than anything else, literally, and with the possibilities he had… all that he needed to do was make a few phone calls and he’d soon have the happiest girlfriend in the world.

“Nothing's sold out for me” Naoya sappily admits, but to you, who was completely enamored by him at this point, was only the sweetest response yet.

“Oh, Naoya, thank you so much!!” You cry, taking him into a hug and attacking him with kisses all over his face. His cheeks become a flustering mess, and yet, does nothing to remove you. “I can't wait to try them!”

“Just be sure to eat first, though. I don't want you getting all full with mochi and then complaining you’re hungry…” he teases with a smirk.

You pout. “It was just one time!” that you wanted to recall. “But alright…”

Naoya kisses your cheek.

“Don't be upset, princess. If you want more, I'll get you more”

As long as you give him more of those sweet kisses, or more like tiramisu kisses, as they’d become known later on.

These were nothing more than just a few examples of the things you liked to do with Naoya. However, not everything would be completely enjoyable, and just as expected of life, the two were bound to eventually do things neither liked in its entirety—nothing too extreme, just… tedious by itself. Like studying.

Even then, however, Naoya always did his best to help you. Since he was the best student out of the two, he could easily provide you with the help you needed to improve your notes—if not the motivation to do so.

It was silly to think how Naoya at one point once hated doing this with you, or more like was oblivious to your actual intents when asking him for help. Back when the two were just barely staring to know each other, you'd come to him with the pretense of needing guidance with one of the many subjects you were struggling with.

And Naoya, was blunt and blind as he was with these social matters, would only limit himself to answer the follow:

“Why are you asking me? Isn’t your sister bright or something?”

It took a great deal for his friend Ranta to not slap the stubbornness out of him, instead, he managed to explain what you were truly attempting to do with these approaches. You can rest assured knowing Naoya felt like an absolute idiot after discovering this. Thankfully, now that he knows what you mean, he doesn’t let any opportunity pass. In fact, he even offers himself up for the job—even when you profusely refused.

“I don't want to study anymore…!!” You'd dramatically cry, resting your head onto your arms and down on the desk; simply continuing to whine. “I hate this!”

“Come on, princess; just a bit more and you’re done.” Naoya attempts to comfort, removing one of your hair strands covering your face. He enjoyed this silly side of you, thought it unbearably adorable… but he preferred you to be happy. By far.

“No. I don't want to; I don't care if I fail, I'm not doing this anymore! And nothing will convince me otherwise!”

“Are you sure?” He smirks, placing his arm around your waist and leaning closer to you.

“Yes!” You try your best to remain unaffected, even if deep within, you were desperately longing to bask in his touch.

“Not even a kiss?”

“Nope! Not even that!” You refuted his suggestions. “Don’t try to convince me otherwise, it won’t work!”

Well, you’d have to do better than that if you wished to stop Naoya.

“Oh, really? Not even…” Naoya then reaches for his bag to swiftly take out a small Gengar plushie. Coincidentally, the same one you saw at the mall a few days ago: the newest one Pokémon Center had released, and naturally, you’ve been dying to get. “…For this?”

You press you lips together, trying your best to control your impulses and freak out about the gift—but there’s one thing you always forget about Naoya: is that you can’t ignore his enchantments, and soon, you attempt to seize the plushie from his hands, only to once again, fail to acknowledge his impressive speed, a snarky smile on his lips as he imposes distance between the two.

“Nuh, uh, princess. You have to keep studying if you want this.”

“Just—give it to me!” you gasp, trying to reach for his arm once again, but he just keeps straying further and further away from you. In fact, he actually stands up to make it even harder for you!

But that doesn’t stop you, no, not at all, for you respond with the same energy, quick to stand up as well and throw yourself towards him in one last attempt to seize the plushie and claim what is rightfully yours!

If you hadn’t accidentally tripped over, that is, by innocently getting your feet stuck with the legs of a nearby chair and tripping onto Naoya, who instinctively grabs you and begins to worry about your wellbeing, Gengar effectively out of your mind.

Just like you—however, it was more by the fact you were embarrassed to have done such a thing, feeling nothing but stupid by allowing yourself to fall victim to such silly games, as seen in the redness of your face.

“Stop it!” you breathe, trying to free yourself from his arms, hide from his sight. But he holds you in place, fearing you were hurt. “Let me go!”

“Are you ok? Are you hurt?”

“I’m—I’m fine, just—just let me go!” you whine, and it’s a good thing that Naoya knows you so well to the point of understanding you don’t really mean to get away from him, but rather, hide your shame—which he hopes to ease by finally giving you the plushie of your desire.

“Don’t be upset, Y/N. It was just an accident.” He murmurs, kissing the top of your head, you pout.

“This was so humiliating…” you lament. “I feel like a child! Oh, I’m so undeserving of this…”

“Hmmm, if it’s worth anything, today wasn’t that bad. In fact, remember that one time when you ate chocolate ice cream and—"

“Naoya!” you gasp, he laughs.

“Alright, alright!” He cups your face, pressing your cheeks together and making you pout. “I’m just joking; trying to make you feel better, you know?”

“Doesn’t seem like it…” you frown.

“I adore all of you. Even the embarrassing parts.” Naoya leans closer to your face, rubbing his nose against yours. Your heart swoons. “So don’t torture yourself about it.”

“…I adore you too.” You confess, eager to already tell him you loved him, but only when the time was right. When he felt ready.

“Let’s take a break and get something to eat, yeah?”

 “How about ramen? I bought some packets that are supposed to be super good the other day at the market. We can just get some hot water from the cafeteria and done!”

“You know how I feel about that type of food. I’d rather take you out to an actual restaurant.” He raises an eyebrow.

“I would like to but… we need to plan these things with time so we won’t be seen” you dolefully remind him, he sighs.

“Well, nothing beats a date at school.” Naoya then jests, you chuckle.

He then cups your face once again, leaning down to kiss you tenderly.

Saying it’s a nuisance falls short to how you actually felt about this whole ordeal. About having to walk around eggshells just to go out on dates, but until both were ready to let the world known of your relationship, (or prepare for the dramatic response you know your family and friends will have to it) this will have to do.

Unless you two were to lower your guards and let someone else win you to it, hinted by the sound of a shutter coming from the door, followed by a bright flash that made you and Naoya freeze instantly, eyes wide as both slowly turned over to the entrance, loathing all of the implications this moment provided, completely petrified when realizing it was much, much worse than anything you imagined.

For standing by the door frame, stood the culprits behind it all, the last people you wanted to know of your relationship with Naoya: Gojo and Geto—the latter holding the newest bane of your existence, and the former with his mouth agape, eventually letting out a loud shriek that snapped the two out of trance.

“Wait, Satoru, Suguru—It’s not—It’s not what you think!!” You scrambled to control the situation, to no avail, for it was exactly what they thought!

The same information that had them running into the hallways and heading to God knows where, certainly not to keep this secret hidden from the world.

It was only a matter of time before the whole school knew, especially if there was a photo involved! And after that happens, you and Naoya would be forced to give out explanations to everyone that dared ask. If fate found it to be merciful on you, then the only problems you'll have will come through your friends.

If not… then it’d also be a matter of dealing with his and your family as well.

The mere thought of it sends shivers through your spine—mind scurrying to envision all kinds of scenarios possible.

“Do you think they’ll—they’ll take me out from school?” you fretted. Naoya swallows, unsure.

Guess both will have to wait and see what the future has unwittingly prepared for the two—until then, you’d prepare the speech you’ll inevitably give your parents and his in hope of defending your relationship.

…

Or at least, the possibility of remaining in contact with Naoya, if settling for the worst.

I realized that I wrote Naoya doing 1000 things for Y/N. But in my defense, Naoya is the type to give you good things and you're the type to give him good times? If that makes sense. I mean, he has a lot of money, and you're actually allowed to live a normal human life so, complementing each other!!! hahaha

Anyways, what a shocker. Who would've guessed that high school bullies Gojo and Geto were to find out you were dating Naoya first? UGH HAHHAAHHA It was only a matter of time tbh. Though I do fear for their life 💀💀💀💀💀💀

Well, since I love this concept so much be sure that I will write more about it. Or just about HS in general, agjkhasjkgas I love it 😭

Thank you so much for sending in this ask!! Can't wait to write the second part, the.... revelation and everything that will ensue. I wonder if they'll make it out of this alive? Who knows!! hehe.

Take care and hope to see you soon!!!

[chrisevansonly]

Just To See You Smile (harry’s angel au)

pairing: harry styles x female reader (angel)

summary: harry’s only been gone a few hours and it’s proving to take a bigger toll on you than you thought

warnings: slight angst, some tears, harry being the fluffiest and sweetest<3

a/n: my life is literally so frustrating right now; i feel lost, alone and lately trying to throw myself into writing because it feels like the only thing i’m good at: even tho most of the time i h8 my writing lol this was written in my phone and not edited yet<3

The soft fabric of the cashmere duvet was your biggest comfort as you lay in bed, unmoving from the spot you usually shared with Harry. He’d left a few hours ago to continue his tour in Belgium and yes I suppose you could call yourself dramatic, but being as pregnant as you were, the sudden disruption to your routine was throwing you off kilter more than it usually would. Despite your pleas and begging, your doctor and midwives told you travelling for the next week and a bit was not recommended, they’d noticed some concerns at your last scan which had instilled panic between both you and Harry at the time.

It hadn’t been an easy pregnancy once you’d hit 5 months along, and now you were even more on edge and anxious, your brain spinning through every possibility and every scenario that could happen to you or your daughter. In a way having Harry with you and touring with him had grounded you and allowed you time to escape the nagging your brain had been doing to you. Of course Gemma and Anne were set to arrive in a few hours to spend the next week and a bit with you, that would help, but nothing could fill that spot Harry did when he was gone.

Your eyes were tired and bloodshot, nose stuffed from the tears you’d been shedding on and off all morning, baby bee not making life any easier with her sharp kicks and rolling around she was doing. It wasn’t until your phone went off that your eyes moved from the laundry basket in the corner of the room to the screen that lit up; a photo of you and Harry at your still secret maternity shoot your newest background. Swiping to answer the facetime call, your heart clenched seeing Harry’s face, a sad smile on his face when he saw you

“My angel…”

“H-Hi”

He frowned, tears slowly lining your eyes yet again, almost in an annoying way at this point

“I’m sorry this is so hard on you baby, breaks my heart to see you so sad…how are you feeling? She not causing you too much trouble I hope?”

“I just m-miss you…don’t like being a-away from you, even if it’s only b-been a few hours…”

Sniffling you paused to wipe your eyes

“Still not feeling very well, she’s been kicking and moving a lot, i’m too tired to move though…s’like she’s sucking the energy right out of me”

It wasn’t as if you were trying to make Harry feel guilty for needing to work but you knew he’d find out how you were really feeling eventually if you lied to him, so there was no point in beating around the bush

“I wish I could snap m’fingers and make you feel better, I know this is getting harder on you, fucking sucks I can’t still be home with you right now..”

“I know…but you’re working hard and so many people are so excited to see you, guess i’m just used to touring with you that I don’t k-know what to do when I’m not”

He nodded, listening to everything you had to say, little noises of agreements or soft praises escaping every so often, anything to try and see his angel smile, that was the goal of any facetime call the two of you shared

“Mum and Gem are coming over soon right? What are you ladies gonna get up too?”

Shrugging you thought about it

“I think we’re gonna plan the nursery together, look at furniture and paint colours and work on some wedding things which I think will be a good distraction”

“That sounds fun baby, I know whatever you come up with will be amazing, you’ve got a good eye for that stuff”

“Not as good as you”

“I beg to differ”

A small smile pulled at the edge of your lips, Harry’s eyes lighting up at the sight of that

“There’s my favourite smile, love seeing you smile darling, my favourite thing in the world”

“Hard when you’re not here sometimes”

He nodded

“I know but even if i’m a country or a timezone away I’ll always make sure to see that smile, even if I have to dance around ridiculously, making you happen is my goal you know that”

Allowing another smile to appear on your face, this time bigger than the last, was enough to have Harry cheering, loudly at that

“You’re so silly…s’just a smile H”

“Yes, but it’s my favourite smile…besides I was hoping to take you on a tour around Belgium with me…maybe that will keep that pretty smile on that beautiful face of yours”

“It might…”

Harry laughed shaking his head while he brought you with him as he changed, showing you the hotel room and the view from the balcony, your eyes catching the bright colours of the city below him. He kept notice of your mood shifting, your eyes brightening the more he showed you, honestly when Jeff asked why he wanted to wait to rehearse until later, he should have known it would have something to do with you.

“Want to go see the city a bit? I’ll show you some of the cute little tea and coffee shops we spotted earlier?”

“Yes please H…love you so much you know that?”

He nodded, bringing the phone to his lips so he could press a kiss to the camera, albeit very dramatically which earned a laugh from you

“I love you more m’angel, i’d do anything for you, always”

You may not have been able to attend the next few love on tour shows, but that wouldn’t stop Harry from calling tou in every city he visited until you’d be reunited, just so he could show you the sights, the sounds and make you feel like you were with him every step of the way, even if you were stuck in London, counting down the days until you’d be back together. One day at a time, he’d tell you, and you couldn’t wait until that day you were able to rejoin him and experience the world with your own eyes again…

[omnivorousshipper]

You still interested in mpreg prompts? How about Deckard finding out he's pregnant in the middle of a mission and Luke suddenly becomes incredibly protective, trying to get the job done as soon as possible so they can go home and cuddle <3

I am ALWAYS interested in mpreg prompts!! This is a beautiful prompt and it'd totally happen in canon (if the writers weren't cowards lol)

~~~

Deckard knew he shouldn't have gone on this mission.

He had known as soon as he had vomited that morning that his body wasn't in the right condition. But, he had chalked it up to the smell of breakfast that had turned his stomach. Normally, bacon didn't have that kind of effect on him, but it had made him run for the nearest bathroom.

Luke had naturally told him to stay back and he could go solo on the mission, but Deckard refused profusely.

Like hell he was going to let Luke go by himself, even if it was a simple mission.

There was nothing wrong with having backup.

Now though, as he leaned against a pillar away from gunfire, he seriously regretted coming along.

Swallowing thickly, Deckard could feel the tell-tale tickle in the back of his throat that he was about to vomit again. The strong scent of smoke and gunpowder was thick in the air, choking him.

"Bloody hell..." Deckard moaned to himself as he pressed a hand to his stomach.

"Deck, where are you?!" Luke yelled over their comms.

"Out of the way," Deckard grunted. "Can you handle yourself, twinkletoes?"

"Of course I can," Luke laughed back. "Are you ok?"

Taking a measured breath, Deckard didn't know what to say. He didn't want to make Luke worry; Deckard could handle himself even if he could keep his stomach in check.

With his hand on his stomach he pressed a bit more firmly and blinked.

Since when had his stomach felt like a hard bump?

He hadn't changed his diet-- ok that was a lie. For the last month, he had been experiencing even more cravings for sweets than normal. He had indulged, promising to hit the gym more.

The more he thought of it, the more he began to realize what else had been different about his daily life.

More often than not, he would feel tired and would take frequent naps during the day. Alongside that, he had been far more touchy with Luke. There wasn't a moment he didn't want to cuddle.

Once again pressing down on his stomach, Deckard knew.

He was pregnant.

"Luke..."

"Deckard?" Luke's voice had an edge of concern.

"I think I'm pregnant."

There was a beat of silence.

"What?! How?"

"Well, when a mummy and a daddy love each other very much--"

"I know how babies are made, you prick. I meant, I thought we were using protection."

"Looks like your swimmers are just too strong."

"Guess so," Luke huffed. "You said you were in a safe spot?"

"Yeah."

"Stay there. I'll handle these assholes and come get you."

"What? I can still fight."

"Like fuck I'm gonna let you do that."

"Excuse you?!" Deckard barked back.

"Don't start with me, princess!" Luke shouted back. "You're not risking just your life now!"

Deckard cursed. Luke was right.

"Fine."

"Just sit tight," Luke soothed.

Deckard scowled but knew better than to keep arguing. If he had known this was going to most likely be his last mission, he would have picked a bigger one. Something more exciting than shooting a gun.

In no time, the gunshots stopped and Deckard heard loud footsteps coming towards his hiding spot. Stepping out from behind the pillar, Deckard smiled softly as he spotted Luke.

He looked ethereal.

The afternoon sun shown off the sweat coating his body, showing off his flexing muscles. He walked with his back straight, shoulders thrown back, as he walked confidently towards Deckard.

"Hey there, princess."

Deckard met him halfway and threw his arms around Luke's shoulders.

"We're having a baby," Deckard smiled as he leaned forward and kissed Luke.

"I can't wait," Luke purred as he deepened the kiss. So lost in the sensation of Luke claiming his mouth, Deckard yelped as he felt himself being lifted into the air.

Now being held in Luke's arm, bridal style, Deckard glared at him.

"I can walk you know."

"I know," Luke smirked, not letting Deckard down.

Rolling his eyes, Deckard laid his head on Luke's shoulder. He had a feeling he'd be finding himself in this position more often.

"Guess Hatts and Oh will have to take my place on our mission," Deckard said.

Luke made a pained face.

"If that's what it takes to keep you safe," he agreed begrudgingly.

Laughing to himself, Deckard tightened his hold on Luke.

He couldn't wait to meet their baby.

[theshortolivia]

Get to Know me tag :)

Was tagged for a get to know me tag game by @deerlisteners and these are fun so thought I’d do it for the like two people who will see it, even though, they are both childhood friends and know all this…

1. Are you named after anyone?

Yeah! My moms named me after the character Olivia Benson from law and order because she was a ‘strong independent woman’ like they wanted me to be and they also both had a crush on her/the actress who plays her. Bonus fact I’m p sure if I’d been born male they woulda named me Josiah

2. When was the last time you cried?

Uhhh, I got emotional and ALMOST cried at the ‘shoe scene’ (can’t be any more specific cause Huge spoilers) when rewatching Jojo Rabbit, I DID cry when I saw it in theatres and I HIGHLY recommend it as a comedy satire but also a harrowing reminder of history we should never forget (and for taika waititi of course). Um last time I actually cried I don’t remember cause recently my mental health has been depression apathy and not anxiety tears but it was Probably out of frustration at my chronic illness limiting what I can do, not a fun anecdote unfortunately but sometimes it be like that

3. Do you have kids?

I do not and I don’t plan on having any anytime soon for economic, chronic illness, and age reasons (I’m 22 lol I am Not settled in life I don’t even live alone). I would like to have kids when I’m older and more settled health and money wise, I love kids and feel I have so much love and care to give, i think I’d both enjoy and be a good mother. Also, I’d like to have them ‘traditionally’ because I’d like to experience pregnancy and I have some good genes lol. I think I’d like to have 3, partially because I do think I will love to raise and love children but also largely because I want my kids to have multiple siblings and to have a bigger (I know that’s not large in the grand scheme but for like, this day and age and economy and etc) family and for their kids to have multiple aunts/uncles. I love having a brother and wish I had more siblings, I wish I had a sibling closer in age that I could relate to, but I do still enjoy taking care of him and him being my baby brother. I also used to have 5 aunts and uncles (well 10 since they were all married ig) and many many cousins of all ages before we stopped talking to that side of my family, and I have two uncles (and my aunts their wives) and only see a few of my cousins due to where they live, and I am so glad I have family gatherings that big but I do miss the giant ones too, therefore I want for my kids what I have and love.

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

I am NOT a sports girlie. Up until I was 12 ish I was a very into ballet and modern dancing (would’ve continued but alas anxiety struck) and after that I did musical theatre which is its own style of dancing, incorporating all different types. I’d love to go back but since I stopped dancing due to a steady string of anxiety, anxiety medication side effects, foot problems, and then finally chronic fatigue syndrome, I’ve become out of shape, have really bad feet, and REALLY struggle to find time to take care of myself. I do want to start exercising again in ways that don’t require me to have functional feet like weight lifting, aerial dancing (those fabric strip things) etc. But I am Not good at sports nor do I like it, sorry. I remember basketball in elementary being the most frustrating and volleyball being,,,ok

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Hm in general i don’t think I do actually, I’m a pretty earnest and straightforward person myself and idk using sarcasm feels negative? For me? And I strive to be as positive to others as I can be. (Not that sarcasm is always mean I just feel like it don’t my Vibe ykwim) but I’m also somewhat socially and subtextually dense so I think it makes sense I don’t use something I may not be the best at understanding unless it’s obvious

6. What is the first thing you notice about people?

Hmm, I think that varies a Lot, it’s probably usually either makeup, clothing, hairstyle, or tattoos if they stand out or if they’re something I’d want myself or am attracted too or like aesthetically. I always try to get up the courage to compliment people on things I notice because I feel good when I get complimented so I want other people to feel like that too :) also actually since I’m a cashier and people hand over cash and point cards often I usually notice nails. Oh I also notice extremes in height immediately, I’m short so people shorter than me are like woah! And people super duper tall are also like Woah!

7. What’s your eye colour?

Dark brown

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

TLDR happy endings, I’m a sucker for happily ever after to the point where if it didn’t end happily I’ll probably write or st least daydream a fan fiction ending where it does. ESPECIALLY romance it Always gets me. I do like scary movies though, especially psychological horror, although,,,In The Tall Grass FUCKED ME UP (the movie, I don’t read stephen king books cause his writing style makes me uncomfy but man does he have some fucked up terrifying horrible ideas for for him)

9. Any talents?

Ig that’s kinda complicated cause I’d probably call myself a jack of all trades (but master of none). I was one of those kids that was praised for being good at like everything the first time I tried it and now as an adult has to learn how to study and have a huge issue of getting frustrated and stopping anything I try that I’m not immediately good at therefore never being able to improve because I’m not practicing. But I’ve been Told by teachers, professors, and other people that I’m quite talented at singing. I starred in some musicals in elementary school and studied vocals in high school, in choirs the whole time too, so I’d say I’m like, sort of trained in musical theatre and opera and I Have worked to improve my voice. But I was also told that apparently when I was 3 ish I grabbed a mic and went on a stage (probably at play group or smth idk) and belted twinkle twinkle little star and parents laughed and said I’d be a star one day so idk maybe I just have that star quality lol. Oh I’ve also been commended for my acting skills back before I did acting? But I haven’t done much of late and wouldn’t consider myself exceptionally skilled, I want to be though! I uh also had a period in high school where I discovered I liked (and was good at) academics and excelled in science and math and focused Heavily on that, getting awards and whatnot. I’m not gifted but my mom and grandfather are (were, granddad is not alive) and I definitely did get their big brains.

Oh also I’m like a professional daydreamer at this point I write whole ass stories in my head most of which Never make it to the Google docs and I’m Amazingly talented at oversharing I’m sorry in advance tell me to stop talking I literally won’t mind I promise I ramble Too much

10. Where were you born?

Ontario, Canada

11. What are your hobbies?

Too many. I have this issue where I like too many things so I spread myself too thinly to commit to spending enough time practicing on any one thing to improve, and then on top of that have this thing where I can’t just do something for fun I have to be Good at it (which I think stems from being a Talented Kid™) BUT here’s a list here we go it’s long

Singing

Acting

Dancing

Cooking

Baking

Writing

Makeup

Learning languages (I’m shit at it tho)

Linguistics (how languages WORK is So Cool)

Driving

Drawing

Learning about cool science things namely psychology, genetic, otherwise biology, or nuclear related

I’m not good at this yet but I wanna get into mixology for fun and also as a job

Can’t sew v well yet but I think it would be So Fun and also good to know cause I have to hem every other pair of pants I get

12. Do you have any pets?

I live w my parents still n we have a dog who’s actually my brother’s service dog she’s a huge black lab named Marshmallow and she is full of so much love but not a lot of thoughts, and we recently got a tuxedo kitten i got to name Carmilla (Carmilla is the name of an 1872? gothic lesbian vampire novella that came out before dracula, see my kitten loved to hide n is super duper fast and also play bites, hence, vampire)

13. How tall are you?

5’1 or 152cm

14. Favourite subject in school?

Too many uhh in high school I rlly loved general biology, my vocal classes (which we learned solos in Italian, German, and musical theatre genres and etc it was amazing), my intro to sociology, psychology, and anthropology class, my human development throughout the lifespan class (I wrote a super cool paper on the theory of infantile synesthesia which tbh is probably the best paper I’ve ever written), and my drama classes. In uni so far I’ve enjoyed my year 1 biology class, Especially the second half cause it was like almost All genetics (soooo fascinating!!!), I Loved my Japanese class which was hard as hell but so fascinating and awesome (I love languages and how they work, and Japanese being so different from my native language of English was really interesting, I also really like Japanese food and culture and nature so learning the language was partially because I think it’s a wonderful language but partially so I can go to Japan at some point), my psych intro class was fascinating and I especially enjoyed the parts on sleep and consciousness and on sensory and perception, those parts of our brains are sooo cool I also really liked my Health Psychology (relating our body to our mind was eye opening and very interesting) class. All those classes had super interesting subject matter AND really amazing sweet and helpful professors. Oh my intro data science class was cool cause I got to do shit of coding which was fun and rewarding

15. Dream Job?

Ok so remember the ‘jack of all trades but master of none’ thing? Liking and being somewhat good at many different things is rlly not helpful for deciding on careers, the end of that phrase ‘but better than being a master of one’ I’d say isn’t true cause I do think being good at One thing has its pros and cons, a pro being it’s def easier to decide what to do. I’ve been told I could probably make it in the opera industry, and I would love to act and sing for a living, whether that’s theatre, film, or voice acting, preferably I’d love to do them all tbh. It feels narcissistic to admit but I do like the recognition for performing, I relish the applause I get during curtain calls or after a solo, I wouldn’t say I Live for the applause but I do like it, I think I’d like to be some level of famous. However I know that’s not easy to attain and I also would love to be a teaching and researching professor of psychology and genetics. I love presenting and teaching and am very good at it (my best marks are always on presentations lol) and I love researching concepts that are interesting to me, like for example if I had to write a thesis right now I’d probably write it about the possibility of finding the epigenetic patterns that cause hereditary depression, anxiety, etc, and use CRISPR gene editing technology to correct those thus ending the cycle of hereditary mental illness instead of putting the bandaid of a medication on it. Also I know that coding and computer science is lucrative right now and I did enjoy my taste of coding so I’d also love to look into that. I Do want to make a lot of money so I can afford to take care of those I love (and myself), be more sustainable, and enjoy some extra things in life like fancy and unique or uncommon to my culture food

No pressure but Also tagging @dragonheart1330 :)

I probably didn’t even say One thing @dragonheart1330 and @deerlisteners don’t already know lol as I said I am soooo talented at oversharing

[baconcolacan]

How would Stay Tord react or take care of Tom, if he secretly overworked himself and fell asleep somewhere?, (like on the desk or just in a chair lol)

Not an art request

You guys make it so hard to resist.

Words: 5513 "Prompt" not to the letter.

“You should clock out soon, boss.”

“Yeah yeah, Paul. Soon, okay?” Tord yawned, long and slow, and felt his eye twitch. A burning, itchy, irritating feeling started to make itself known as he did so. He blinked a few times and winced at how dry his eye felt, he switched his pen into his right hand to continue writing, while his left hand reached up and rubbed at his eye. Another yawn escaped him at the action, he felt his left leg start bouncing as his body began to stretch out, his joints popped as he flexed, making him let out a pleased groan as the stiffness within him began to abate.

His eye still felt like it was stinging though.

“Paul, could you get my eyedrops at the table over there??” Tord gathered the files on the table into his hands, he tapped them against the surface to get them all aligned before he turned to his desk drawer to deposit them. Rows of different work files greeted the weary military commander, some tagged with small red stickers to indicate that they still needed his attention, all in varying shades depending on their urgency.

He felt a small twinge in his heart when he remembered the day Tom had come into his office with a pad full of the stickers.

“You’re overwhelming yourself, idiot. Step aside, I’m fixing your shit.”

He put up a half-hearted protest that day, not really meaning it, just wanting an excuse to mope and lean against his beloved to whine to his heart’s content. Usually, if he was being bitchy enough about it, Tom would acquiesce and coddle him a little, as much as he was allowed to in public at least, and Tord would never say no to his husband spoiling him with a few stolen kisses.

He felt another pang in his heart at that, knowing how Tom would have made it home by now if Paul was telling him to clock out. This would be…what, his fourth time working late? No doubt his husband was already asleep. Still, the thought of Tom having to eat dinner alone again made his stomach twist guiltily, sour in the way it felt.

Still….he’d been pushing work back so much recently, and it was starting to pile up and cause minor problems to arise in his army, it may not look like much now, but too many of them will become a much bigger problem all together.

…was he really prioritizing work over his own husband?

Tord bit down on his lower lip at the thought, a tangy, metallic taste seeped onto his tongue.

He shook his head.

He set the files he had to the very back where most finished paperwork was, which wasn’t much compared to those incomplete. He sighed deeply to himself and clicked his tongue when he felt his eye sting yet again, his hand ghosted over the files with light pink stickers before settling for those with dark red ones. He frowned as he rubbed at his sore eye again.

“Paul?? Eyedrops please…” He held his right hand out to the direction he knew his General was seated at. Paul and he had decided to do some of the accounting work today, which was the result of an unfortunate case of the flu spreading to almost everyone in their accounting department. He had been beside himself when he caught wind of a significant number of their employees requesting sick leave, it had been such a headache to deal with at the start.

Of course, he had some words with patient zero, the whole point of being sick was to not report to work at all! He wasn’t running a sweat shop! He preferred quality work over quantity, and paperwork that had blotchy writing and traces of snot and drool was not quality.

Needless to say, patient zero- and all their unfortunate victims- were on paid sick leave until further notice. ‘Do not come to work’ was a highly stressed point, especially to patient zero.

Paul and he trudged through all the work they left behind, with Paul taking refuge at his tea table while he camped out at his work desk. Paul had been somewhat annoying about it though, always complaining about how his back hurt, or how his hands were cramping, or how stupid it was they didn’t think to invent tech that made paperwork easier, or how its unethical of him to withhold lunch until the paperwork was done bla bla bla…….

Tord just learned to tune him out.

……..Wait…..Why can’t Tord hear him complaining?

“Paul???” Tord finally looked up from his desk drawer, three new files with bright red stickers clutched in his hand, he blinked in surprise at the darkness of his own office, half the room’s lights had been switched off. His brows furrowed together as he looked over to where his tea table was stationed at to his right. Now shadowed in darkness.

There he saw Paul’s own mountain of files stacked precariously on top of each other, papers jutted out haphazardly while a multitude of paperclips kept them all from falling apart. He spotted the plastic cup of used pens that Paul had begun to collect, after the first three had run out of ink mid-way through his work pile, which had looked to be overflowing with much too many pens at this point.

Paul’s thermos- which had been delivered by Patryck- was still sitting idle on top of the tea table next to his paper pile, alongside his calculator and reference papers of past accounting records. His service dress cap was still hanging on the edge of his chair, dangling precariously over the wastebin he had moved to his side, after a number of errors had him throwing out a few of his papers in frustration, as it had meant he would have to redo them- and their calculations- again.

But, amongst all of these items, there was no sign of Paul himself.

Tord frowned, feeling a smatter of disbelief that one of his Generals would just suddenly leave his station without excusing himself. He scoffed with a slight bout of irritation as he fell back on his chair, uncaringly dropping the files he held onto his work desk as he combed his fingers through his own hair. The nerve of that man!

Had he been too lenient with Paul?? With Patryck? Sure they were friends, but during work hours he was their boss, not to mention their superior officer, and this right here was a blatant disrespect for the chain of command.

Maybe he needs to have a talk with his staff soon, about duty and respect, maybe.

Paul had just told him to clock out, when the hell did he leave??

….What time was it?

Tord let his head loll to the side, he clicked his tongue in irritation when he realized that the grandfather clock in his office was in the shaded part of it. He squinted his eyes at the confounded thing before he gave up entirely. Why the hell does he still even have analog stuff??

….ah, yeah, aesthetics……

With a tired sigh, Tord turned to his right arm and removed the glove covering it, a glint of metallic red greeted him along with a soft blue glow of lights. He pressed down on the middle of his palm until he heard a click.

“Time?” He blew out as he rubbed at his temple with his free hand.

“It is 2:09 a.m. Red Leader.”

Two o’- What?!

Tord sat up at that, he spun his chair partway around to look at his grand arch window behind him. Outside of RA HQ, he could see a few of the night watch already stationed at their towers, the cold blue of the floodlights on top of the towers shining brightly up ahead at the farthermost territory of their HQ. He spotted the shadows of the night shift Red Sentries zipping across the surrounding forests, sometimes hovering over to the watchtowers to deposit their camera footage to the database before zooming off again.

A wanning gibbous moon shone high in the sky.

Christ, he didn’t realize how long he had been working for.

Paul often clocked out around 11 p.m. at the latest, so that means….Paul had told him to clock out 3 hours ago?!

But- But he just heard him say that!

Oh hell….maybe he really does need to leave this work well alone for now, his sense of time is starting to get all screwy….

….Fuck….he was a hypocrite, he’s patient zero now. Poor Paul was patient one, he supposed. Though, at least Paul had sense to still keep a somewhat decent time. He always did say that Tord’s work-life balance was-

…..Shit.

Thomas.

His husband. His poor husband who he hasn’t even been paying any attention to this week. His poor husband who he left all alone this week because he never came home on time anymore. His poor beloved who would have been eating all his meals alone because Tord decided that neglecting his health- and love life- was worth it to finish a budget record.

Oh my god…..he’s becoming a workaholic asshole. An absent husband!!

Dread began to build up in Tord’s chest as his thoughts began to spiral.

What if Thomas thought he didn’t love him anymore?? He wasn’t able to tell him he loved him this week!

Or worse! What if Thomas was falling into a state of anagapesis?! Falling out of love with him because he’s been a neglectful, unloving, asshole of a husband!!

“I hope you and your literal work wife are happy together.”

Tord felt himself blanch as the blood began to drain from his face. An unwanted image of his husband, of his dear sweet Thomas, dabbing a handkerchief to his eyes as tears fell down his cheeks. Imaginary Thomas continued to sob as he slammed a piece of paper onto his desk, still weeping heavily into the white lacy handkerchief he kept to his face.

Tord looked down at the paper on his desk in sheer horror.

Divorce papers.

“I’m leaving you for a real man, Tord Larsin!”

Tord looked back up at imaginary Thomas in front of his desk, only to stand up in shock as a faceless man holding a crudely made instrument had pulled his husband to his side. Imaginary Thomas wept into his shoulder before glaring back at him, causing Tord to physically flinch.

“Hello!” The faceless man greeted cheerily with a wave. “Yes I am a real man!”

“He plays the bass, actually LIKES ska, has a normal job at a coffee shop, and thinks anime is super weird!” Imaginary Thomas huffed and hugged himself closer to the homewrecker. “And he actually pays attention to me and LOVES me! Unlike YOU!” Imaginary Tom sniffled before the faceless man began to turn them both away.

“Okay honey say bye bye now! Let us go to our real people home and have many children!”

Imaginary Tom looked back at him, glaring balefully.

“Goodbye, Larsin.”

Tord let out a horrified shriek, thankfully unheard due to his soundproofed office.

NO FUCKING WAY WAS THAT EVER GOING TO HAPPEN!!!

He bolted over his work desk, uncaring of the paperwork that was sent flying in every which way, as he burst out of his own office with all the aggressive force of a charging bull and the desperation of a damned man running from the devil himself.

‘DON’T LEAVE ME FOR A BARISTA, THOMAS!!!!’

Should he be concerned that he had just had a vivid and active hallucination?

Well yes.

But that wasn’t his main concern at the moment, plus, he was much too sleep deprived to be thinking straight anyway. Ah, such is life, and love, supposedly.

Tord ran down the hall, his vision tunneling and his train of thought chugging along on just one, heavily walled, and extremely magnetized, track. He could feel his heart thundering in his chest as thoughts of his beloved husband visiting a coffee shop was starting to form into an irrational fear, the back of his thoughts were already thinking up of ways to get his Thomas quality coffee that was so goddamned good he would never even want to set foot in some whore coffee shop!

Thomas was his, his, HIS!

NO FUCKING BASS PLAYING BARISTA WAS GOING TO TAKE HIM FROM HIM.

LIKE HELL!!

….

….Though…would Tom be happier with a bass playing barista??

All at once, Tord found himself skidding to an abrupt halt, his boots squeaked loudly at his sudden cease of motion, the momentum nearly making him fall flat to his face if he hadn’t caught himself on time.

Tord clasped his hands together, his eye staring at nothing as he began to think deeper about- a frankly goofy- the situation. He wasn’t sure if it was the sleep deprivation, but the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if he even deserved his beloved at this point, seeing as he spent a week practically acting as though Thomas didn’t even exist.

If he could stand to ignore his husband for a week in favor of accounting, what if he could do it for a month?? A year?? Hell YEARS?!

That didn’t sound like love.

What if Tom would be happy with barista bass player real man??

Tord’s overworked, over exhausted, and sleep deprived mind ran around him in circles.

He felt himself began to tear up.

Oh GOD, after he had promised his Thomas on the day they were married, after he had promised him he was a changed man, that he was going to be better, that he well and truly loved him, that he was so sorry for all the years and all the times he had made him cry, how he was so so sorry for ruining their lives when he left him behind, how he- Huh, wait why is Thomas’ office lights still on??

Tord blinked rapidly, coming back to himself as quick as his spiraling mind could allow. He straightened himself up and tilted his head at the sight before him.

Up ahead, at the end of the hall opposite of his own office, the doors to his beloved’s office were opened just a crack, letting the warm light from within spill out into the semi-shadowed hallway he was standing in. Thomas was never one to leave his lights on when he had gone home, even more so keep his doors open, his husband had always liked his privacy, so his office doors were always closed to everyone but Tord, as he also had a key to it anyway.

Frowning, Tord slowly approached the office doors, his hand carefully inched down to the pistol holster at his side, just in case.

Once he reached the dark wood double doors, Tord carefully pushed one of them open just a little more. He evened out his breathing as he took a peek into the office, because if some intruder thought they could just waltz into his beloved’s space, well, they would wish that they hadn’t.

Part of him hoped it was a bass playing barista, somehow.

What he saw however, instantly melted any of his aggression away.

There, reclined on his chair and sleeping soundly, was his beloved husband, Tom.

Tord felt himself smile softly as he fully opened the door, careful not to make any sound as he stepped into the room.

Thomas’ office was much smaller than his own, which was really just at the behest of his beloved. Tom claimed that he didn’t even know what he’d do with so much space, seeing as most of his duties and operations were focused on field work more than anything, and when he had no active operations, he’d spend more time in Tord’s office to help him handle logistics at HQ. So really, even having his own office didn’t seem all too practical anyway.

Which Tord swiftly dismissed, saying that he had to have a place where he could posture his authority, seeing as he was a Lieutenant General of the RA (and unofficially its Army Director). Plus….well, they could use the extra space for other things….

Tom had slapped him on the arm for suggesting that, calling him a ‘depraved weaboo’ for even thinking about it.

Well, what does that say about him? When he let Tord bring a couch that could convert into a bed into his office without a single word?

Yeah, Tom needed his own office. For sure. Not for any ulterior reason of course. Like he said, it was to posture authority. Yep.

Tord passed by the couch and gave it a fond pat as he did so.

He circled Tom’s desk and immediately made his way to his beloved’s side, his gaze softened as he leaned down to get closer to his husband. Tord chuckled as he brushed at the stray lock of hair that refused to be gelled out of Tom’s face like the rest of them, his husband was annoyed by it but Tord thought it was cute.

He sighed as he cupped the side of Tom’s face, but the smile on his own dropped when he noticed the blinking lights on Tom’s visor.

Was….was Tom in subcon-command?!

HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN?!

“Kjaerlighet!” Tord took his husband’s face in his hands, lightly slapping at his left cheek as his right hand took in his vitals. “Kjaerlighet!! Tom!! Thomas!!” His right arm beeped and gave him a readout of Tom’s vitals through a holo-screen. Tord’s eye snapped to the data, quickly taking in the status of his idiot husband, thankfully nothing seemed to be amiss aside from the usual high brain activity that came from being in sub-com.

Tord blew out a frustrated breath and turned back to his still dozing husband, he pressed a finger from his robotic hand to the side of Tom’s visor. The action caused Tom’s head to roll a little to the side, causing the other to mumble something Tord didn’t hear, but it did make him smile in exasperation. “R.L. OV3 3447-Alpha.” A series of robotic chirps responded to his code, accepting his override access. Tord placed his free hand to the other side of Tom’s head as he prepared to remove the visor from his husband.

“39-Lima-550-“

“TT3 SL-Delta.”

“YEAOW!” Tord reeled back, shaking both his hands, as a controlled shocked coursed up his arms. The fingers on his robotic arm spasmed and whined, while his flesh hand smoked due to his glove still being on when he had been electrocuted. He huffed and bit at the singed finger of his white glove, he pulled it off his hand and let it fall to the ground before turning an incredulous, wide-eyed look, at Tom. Who, at this point, had reset his chair so he could sit upright, his arms had crossed as he looked at Tord.

“Kjaerlighet!” Tord meant for it to be scolding, but instead it came out as a whine when Tom tilted his head at him. God help him. He was so weak to his husband. “What was that for?! I know you were subcomming! You know how dangerous that feature is! Didn’t I tell you not to do it without me, Bing, or Larry present?!”

“I don’t need babysitting, Tord. I know what I was doing.” Tom sighed as he propped an arm against the desk beside him, he leaned his head against his palm. “Besides, I wasn’t sub-com for that long, it’s only been a quarter of an hour actually.”

“Still!” Tord strode forward once his robotic hand stopped twitching, he knelt in front of his husband as Tom let him take his free hand into his own. “You know how I feel about you doing these things, kjaere. The sub-com system is still experimental, the mental stress it causes you is too much.” He brought his husband’s hand to his lips, just pressing against it, mumbling into the skin. “I’m scared that something could happen to you…while I’m not there…”

“Tord….” Tom squirmed on his seat as he looked down at his husband. He had wanted to deflect, sometimes Tord was just too overbearing, too overprotective of him, but it was difficult when Tord was being vulnerable with him. Sure, his husband was a paranoid bastard, but it was born from years of his time at war with the rest of the world, born from his fear of…well….losing him.

Its so unfair, it used to be so easy to jab back at his husband.

…Maybe he really was getting old, hell….

Tom sighed and took his hand back from Tord, the split second look of heartbreak on the other’s face quickly disappearing once he settled his hand to the side of Tord’s face. “Elskede, look, I really did know what I was doing, but I didn’t mean to scare you like this. I was only trying to oversee the night watch while you were still at work, and I just…” As if on cue, Tom yawned into his other hand, “I just..got tired…is all. I thought I could let my body rest while still overseeing night watch, which, ugh, wasn’t even worth it. I still feel like shit….”

“Well, why are you even here, kjaere??”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Tom gestured at him from top to bottom with his free hand. “You, Tord. You’ve been overworking lately, Paul has been complaining about your hours instead of his own. Patryck is becoming concerned with your mental state, he says you’ve been jumpier than usual.”

Tord felt his heart sting when Tom let out another yawn.

Patient two. His husband was patient two.

As if he didn’t feel bad enough about neglecting his love….now he dragged him into this.

“God, fifteen minutes sub-com but not even that made me feel rested.”

Swallowing his guilt, Tord chuckled, albeit shakily. “Your brain activity is insanely high when you sub-com, Thomas.” Tord rested his hand on top of Tom’s own on his cheek as he looked up at him. “Of course you would still be tired, Bing didn’t invent it for napping while working purposes you know?” He chuckled again as Tom huffed. “It’s an emergency feature, in case someone manages to knock you out in the field, so you can take control of the remote weaponry to defend yourself.”

“Yeah yeah, couldn’t hurt to try though, right?”

“Thomas you could have fried your brain, it would have hurt to try.”

“You’d never let me get hurt like that though.”

Tom meant it to be teasing, but Tord only smiled up at him, adoration plain on his face as he leaned up into his husband’s space. Tom was caught off guard when Tord suddenly went in for a kiss, pushing him back against his chair in the process as his husband moved to deepen it. It wasn’t even much of a dirty kiss, it simply felt as though Tord was trying to press as close as he could, still, by the end of it, Tom felt a little lightheaded as Tord pulled back, he was a little ashamed to admit that he chased the other’s lips when he did.

Tord rested their foreheads together and caressed the side of his face, still smiling.

“Never. I would never let anything hurt you, my love.”

Tom’s heart skipped a beat at the tone of his voice. He felt his face heat up. Stupid Norwegian and his stupid declarations of love…

“Yeah, well…cool, I guess…” Tom had turned his head to the side as his embarrassment reached a new high. Even after all these years, he still wasn’t sure how to respond to Tord’s earnestness, he felt really shitty for it, but Tord had always reassured him that he knew that he loved him, because of course his husband would. Tord just seems to know the things Tom could never say outright.

He glanced back at his husband, though he didn’t move his head back.

And found Tord looking absolutely shattered.

…huh???

(Well, maybe SOMETIMES he doesn’t know the things Tom could never say outright.)

“Tord-?”

“I am so sorry, kjaerlighet.” Tom ‘blinked’ in surprise, the visuals in his visor glitching out in response to his emotional state. He furrowed his brows and squeaked when Tord suddenly took both his hands and clasped them together within his own. The Norwegian leaned further into his face, disappointingly not for another kiss, causing his chair to lean backwards into a dangerous position.

“Aye-! Hey! Tord you’ll make us fall-!”

“Please please PLEASE forgive me my love!!” Tord wailed as he continued to lean into Tom’s space. “I didn’t mean to neglect you this week!! I didn’t mean to be such an asshole!! PLEASE forgive me kjaerlighet!”

“Hey! Shh! Tord! We’re in public! Don’t be so loud!! Don’t call me that!”

Tom switched his visor into his command screens and immediately selected the base cameras. He flicked through the cams until he found the main HQ building cameras, more specifically the ones that were stationed outside his office as well as the general area radius of Tord’s own office. Thankfully, none of the staff had decided to hang back like the two of them had, even maintenance had made themselves scarce. And what night guards they had wouldn’t make their rounds here until after 3 a.m. so for now they were in the clear.

He sighed in relief and relegated the cams footage to the lower right corner side of his visor screen.

Only to come face to face with a teary eyed looking Tord who took up his entire vision.

“Bwah! Tord-!”

“I AM SO SORRY, THOMAS!!” Tom instantly found himself gathered up into his husband’s arms and out of his office chair. He wheezed and choked as Tord squeezed him close as he sobbed. “PLEASE PLEASE P L E A S E DON’T LEAVE ME! MY LOVE I AM SO SORRY FOR NEGLECTING YOU!! PLEASE LET ME STILL CALL YOU MY LOVE!! PLEASE!! YOU ARE STILL MY KJAERLIGHET RIGHT?!”

“To-AUGH!- ORD!!” Tom gasped out as he pushed against his husband’s hold. “Not…the….point!!” He managed to put a little bit of space between them, his legs kicking uselessly below him the moment Tord lifted him up. He glared down at his stupid idiot of a husband who only returned a kicked puppy look at him, Tom took in a deep breath and internally braced himself against Tord’s pleading look. He is not THAT weak to his husband. He is not THAT weak to his husband. He is not THAT weak to his husband-

“We’re in public idiot!” Tom slapped him lightly on the chest. “I was okay with it when your voice was low, but you are screaming it out now!”

“The offices are soundproof!”

“YOU DENSE-! My doors are open, Tord!!”

Tom gestured stiffly at the double doors which Tord had failed to shut closed when he first came in. Tord looked over to the side, he thinned his lips.

“…Ah…..”

“Yeah, ‘Ah’. God you’re daft when you don’t get enough sleep..” Tom pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “For your information, before you start panicking, I checked the cams. No staff. No maintenance. Night guards won’t make their rounds here till three.” Tom huffed when Tord pulled his wide eyed gaze away from the open doors.

Tom hooked his fingers under Tord’s chin, gently coaxing the man to look up at him. “Hey, eyes on me.” He sighed at the look on his husband’s face, most likely he was just starting to realize the danger he could have put them into now that he seemed to be thinking straight. Tom cooed at him, gently brushing at the hair that fell over the scarred side of his face.

“Elskede, we’re alright, be calm.” He pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’m here.” He kissed his cheek. “You’re here.” He kissed the scarred side of his face. “There’s no one else but us.” Tord shut his eye in response, allowing Tom to kiss his eyelid as his husband hugged him closer, leaning his ear against his chest. Tom carded his fingers through his hair. “What can you hear?”

“….Your heart…”

“And why is that?”

“…Because we’re here….because you’re mine…”

“And you are mine.” Tom finished as he felt Tord begin to relax. His husband shifted his hold on him, carrying him bridal style but still refusing to relax his grip, burying his face into his neck as he breathed in slow. Tom laughed lightly at the action, continuing his previous ministrations on Tord’s hair. “..What’s this about neglect Tord? What brought this on??”

“…….” Tord sniffled against his skin. Tom had to stop himself from chuckling. His husband could just be so goofy at times, he really had to talk to him about his habit of scaring himself with his own thoughts, or better yet, maybe he should talk to his therapist about his husband’s self-destructive habit. “….I wasn’t….around…”

“I’m sorry love?”

“I haven’t….I haven’t been good to you…”

Now it was Tom’s turn to feel incredulous, he sent a baffled look his husband’s way, but Tord was still hiding his face against his neck so he wouldn’t be able to see it. “You haven’t-? In what way have you not been good to me?”

“I neglected you this week!” Tord admitted into his skin, with just so much genuine panic it almost sent Tom reeling. “I prioritized my work over my husband! I brushed you off!! I was being an absentee asshole and now you’re going to fall out of love with me and- and you’ll go to a coffee shop because I haven’t found any good coffee yet and you’ll meet a barista and he plays bass and makes you laugh and then you’ll divorcemebecauseyoudontlovemeandthenyou’llmarrybassbaristaandhavekidswithhimandI’MgonnadiealoneBECAUSEI’LLNEVERLOVEANYONEELSEBUTYOU-“

“Hey hey hey! Tord breathe! What??? Coffee shop?? Bass barista????? Darling what are you talking about????”

“I left you all on your OWN for an ENTIRE WEEK!” Tord looked up at his face, the sheer anguish on his face more comical than not to Tom who was starting to find the whole situation too outlandish to take seriously. “I don’t even say ‘I love you’ that much anymore!!”

Tom looked down at his husband, his mouth partway open in disbelief and shock. He floundered a bit, before he gave up and let his head fall into his hands. “Oh my god….Tord Larsin, never EVER try to burn the midnight oil for multiple days, ever again starting now.” He felt his own exhaustion start creeping into his bones, he let himself go limp as he leaned against his husband’s chest. “You and I are not as young as we used to be, at this point, if you try to even stay up past 8 p.m., I’m pretty sure you’ll start getting brain damage.”

“But- kjaere- the barista.”

“Tord.” Tom gritted out, instantly making Tord shut his mouth. “You’re delirious, you haven’t been sleeping well. You just made up a wacky arse scenario that is never going to happen.” Tom tiredly pulled at his left glove, he tucked it into his pocket and brought his hand up to Tord’s face. “See that ring? I married you you dense motherfucker, and god knows why I fell in love with you this hard,” He let his hand fall on top of his abdomen once he was sure he got his point across. “Fact of the matter is, commie, I’m not going anywhere. I’m just so disgustingly in love with you for some reason I can’t even explain.”

Tom nuzzled himself closer to his husband, who had gone unnaturally still. “So shut up already about this barista or whatever and just take me home….I’m tired, and I’m pretty sure I’m about to collapse so remember,” Tom lifted his head to stare into Tord’s eye, only smirking when he saw how red in the face his husband had become. “I love you, that isn’t changing any time soon. Okay?”

Tord only stared at him silently for a moment, before he leaned down, lifting Tom’s head up in tandem, and capturing his lips in a deep, swooping kiss, pouring every ounce of love and adoration he could muster for the man in his arms. The man he had been so lucky to have a chance to keep for himself, to hold close and listen to his heart, to keep by his side for the rest of his life. Someone who could love him for all his flaws, had seen his worst, and still decided that he saw something beautiful in him.

His kjaerlighet.

“I love you, so so much….”

“I love you too. Could we please go home now?”

Tord laughed quietly, subtly adjusting his grip once more before moving to exit the office. “Go to sleep, kjaere.” He pressed their foreheads together as they passed the threshold of the doors. “I’ll get us home safe. I promise nothing will hurt you.”

Tom smiled as he settled in Tord’s arms.

“I know.”

////

GET PERCIEVED YOU LOVESTRUCK IDIOT

[vaexna]

hello everyone . i've been wanting to draw so so so bad but the end of the semester is next week for me and as the dumb college student i am, i decided to cram everything into my brain last minute... so here we are.

but!!! instead, here something i've written !! it's very much about zane and religion because uhhhhhh yeah :D

disclaimer: i didn't proofread. i'm too busy lazy to. thank u for coming to my ted talk <3 if it sounds dumb it's because i'm dumb . it's 1am, and i had the very aggressive urge to write about this dude so here we are, and uhhh my bad LOL

— under the cut ☆ (mwahaha I FIGURED OUT HOW TO DO THIS!!)

If there's one thing he could stand by, without doubt or fleeting conviction, it's the fact that he's seen it all. Pyres and caskets, offerings and tombstones. He's been to small churches in the back of tight-knit towns, made of wood and the faith of believers. And he's been to massive cathedrals in the heart of vast kingdoms, intricately made of limestone and the blood of overworked architects that'll die without an ounce of recognition.

He's seen homes fall and villages rise. He's seen sinners look to him for help, or for the idea that they'll be saved if they begged hard enough. He's seen believers wearing their hearts on their sleeves, a bigger evil looming over their shoulders, their hopeful smiles bright as they greet him.

Sinners disguised as saints. Saints broken down by sinners. People who claim to be neutral, others who don't hold faith in their hearts anymore, some who couldn't find faith no matter how hard they tried or wanted to.

As the High Priest of O'khasis, he's seen just about everything. And after so many years of the light shining in his favor, the line between good and evil blurred in his eyes. Some days, he'll find himself teetering back and forth, trying to figure out if there's meaning to being such a high-standing man in a world where bloodshed is just another means to get by.

Love and hate, sin and faith, matrons and destroyers, what good is any of it when death is not an 'if' but 'when'? He knew life and death like he knew the back of his hand, it surrounded him in all of its glorious forms. He's seen it in his brothers, along with his mother's anguish. In the baptisms and weddings he's been invited to perform, with the death of the past and the birth of better days.

Oh, he's seen it all.

So on rainy days like this, it always came back to the question: Was it worth it? Was it worth the grievances and the anger? The sacrifices and the pain? He's made it this far, something ought to come out of this. Not even his brothers, Irene bless their souls, could reach the heights he's towered over.

Yes, of course, there had to be something at the end of this. It just wasn't time yet— No, the better days he was promised since the dawn of time, since the blessings of his birth, it'll all come soon. Or, one day at least.

It couldn't all be in vain. The lives he reaped couldn't be in vain, the paths he destroyed could not have all been in vain. His name would be remembered forever, a mark in history, he had to be something more. Regret and guilt were things he could overlook for the sake of the man he'll be in the future.

He knew relying on hope wasn't a Ro'meave custom, though. That's why he did what he did — his father taught him that if he wanted something, he had to get it himself. And if someone were to ask, "Zane, what do you want?"

His answer would've been long and descriptive at first. Something that of world peace, or blessings given by Irene herself. But these days, he preferred something much more simple.

"Power."

He's lived and learned.

When the light that shone through carefully colored mosaics kissed his skin, he was sure there had to be a God out there to gift the world such beauty. But when whispers passed around of a greater power lurked in the dimension of a long gone warrior, the idea of being a Godlike man himself tasted sweeter than whatever else he was promised in this lifetime.

The line between good and evil was nonexistent to him—he took advantage of both just to get what he desired. What he deserved. He was a self-proclaimed epiphany, and amongst normal men, Zane Ro'meave was both life and death.

Was it worth it?

After all of this effort, he made sure it was.

— ★

ps. would u guys be interested in both art & writing of mine,,,, i do snippets like these in my free time (when i procrastinate) so like i'd be down to show 'em off if u guys are cool with it...

also one of the paragraphs is like weird in here idk it kept getting deleted so i kept having to rewrite it bc it was too good to scrap and i. just gave up. the text is different for that singular paragraph.

ok thanks for reading this im going to bed goodbye goodnight