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factorialsotherfandoms · 3 months

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In The Valley

TW: discussion of self-harm, reckless behaviour, various angsty discussions, Forever appears for a bit in the middle

Cellbit runs through the streets, the undead giving chase. Unthinking as they are it does not matter if he twists and turns, still they chase. Clawed nails catch on his arm, teeth shortly following; he reaches out with his mind, grasping the small spark of life in the zombie and crushing it between metaphorical teeth. It is not as satisfying as an actual bite, but he snarls as he twists the aether around it nonetheless.

The zombie collapses. Cellbit feels his energy drain further, and keeps on running.

Somewhere, something, if he can just find... He doesn't know, he has no idea, just the certainty that if he stops he dies.

If he dies, he never learns if his best friend survived. He never finds out if he was good enough.

That is enough to spark him into further action; he pulls a long dead radio from his pocket, desperately jamming the batteries in and out until it sparks to life. He has no idea how far they are, no idea what they are doing, or even if the message will send. He knew he should have changed the batteries months ago, but things happened, and stuff occurred, and now...

He preset the radio to their old unit's wavelength, and prerecorded it with a message. He does not know what frequency Forever now uses, but it is all that he has.

Cellbit has no idea if any of them are even alive, if the aliens have caught them or worse has occured. The drops he leave... They will never be found, not before he is torn limb from limb and dies. He has no way better to contact Forever, no idea if Felps lives, and Tazercraft vanished from the face of the earth.

Screaming in frustration he jams the batteries in again.

The screams draw more zombies, but the radio sparks to life.

It lights up just long enough for Cellbit to the button and a light to go on, but blinking a few times before dying again.

Cellbit keeps running.

He tries again.

Swearing and cursing and desperate he keeps trying to make the radio work, far beyond his skillset but all that he has. In his distraction, however, he does not see the dead end.

Not until the wall is in his face, and the zombies are at his back.

He takes one breath, and a second.

This is it, then.

Ten years undercover, twelve of trying to do good, only for it to end like this. The cannibal, alone and friendless at the last, torn limb from limb and feasted upon by that which was once human.

It's fine, though, was Cellbit ever really a person? It was nice pretending, while it lasted, those few years of tricking himself into thinking he was capable of change, capable of loving and being loved.

He should have known that goodness has no place for people like him.

Cellbit reaches out again, pushing himself to exhaustion and beyond. He might be about to die, and his attempts to call help have been thwarted by broken technology, but he refuses to merely give in.

A Child of the War, Cellbit does not know the meaning of giving in.

He thinks of his mentor from his earliest memories, he thinks of Pac and Mike and Forever and Guapito, and he thinks most of all of Felps. He draws them to mind, pulls strength into his soul, bolsters himself as best he can. No idea if they live, if they died, if they turned traitor or stayed true. Still he thinks on them as he remembers them, and reinforces his soul with love.

No weapons, no armour, nowhere to run and nowhere to escape, nothing but his clothes, his mind, his soul, a dead end, and three hordes of zombies closing in.

Cellbit feeds his soul with the life force of zombies and with love, pouring his hopes and dreams and everything he could have been into it. Red spirals out, leaking into the floor, forming a cloud of haze and dust. Zombies drop dead as they touch it, and yet still they come; it surrounds Cellbit in a small arc, keeping the undead away but draining him second by second by second.

It is too late.

Exhausted, desperate, weak - no matter what he tries to drag up from the depths of his tortured soul, Cellbit cannot hold it forever.

Still he tries, as long as he can, trapped and alone but refusing to let them win.

What a death, to be eaten alive.

At least if he burns his soul out first, he will not be conscious to feel it.

He holds until his vision blurs, zombies scrambling over one another's corpses to reach him.

He holds until his vision blackens, everything closing in.

He holds until his body crumbles, fallen and unaware in the dust and the grime.

---

Cellbit wakes up neither alone nor with a zombie, but rather with someone warm pressed into his side. Hair brushes against his cheek where they have pressed their face into his neck, and arms are wrapped around his chest.

His body wants to stay sleeping, his soul screaming with exhaustion, but...

Bed beneath him, pain, warmth, a human being at his side.

He needs to be awake, to assess, to find out what is happening here.

Dragging himself awake is like trawling through old treacle; not just though sludge, but with sugar in there crystals too. His eyes are heavy and his body is wrong, but he /needs/ to know.

The hair on his cheek is dark, and tightly curled. He... knows it.

"... Felps?" he asks.

Somewhere above he hears a muttered 'of fucking course', but he zones it out. Whomever it is is unimportant as Felps slowly untangles himself, and sits up.

He does not go far, just enough that they can make eye contact. Felps smiles with water eyes, and calls him "Cellbinho."

It feels like a dream. It has to be a dream, or a dying hallucination; the Felps before him looks not a day older than last they met, the only mark of ten years being exhaustion beneath his eyes, and that his hair has grown back.

Or maybe this is death, and Cellbit dragged Felps to hell with him.

Cellbit does not say anything else, he dares not. He barely dares to breathe at the sight before him, something worthy and that he condemned all the same.

But Felps does move. His fingers are thinner - frailer - than Cellbit remembers, but they grab at his cheeks, manipulating his face as Felps checks on him just like every other time he has been hurt.

"Are you okay?" Cellbit asks him, because of everything... Of everything in the world, what matters most is if Felps is okay. If... This Felps cannot be real, but maybe he can answer it anyway. "Did they find you? Did- Did you escape? Please, you're not dead - you can't be dead, I promised-"

He cuts himself off before a sob can escape him.

Felps' eyebrows twitch ever so slightly, and he glances to the side. It only lasts a fraction of a second, though, before he picks up one of Cellbit's hands, and places it to his cheek.

"I'm here," is what Felps answers, face shifting to a smile. "How would I be here if they hadn't?"

The cheek is cooler than it should be. Not corpse-cold - more like he had just fetched something from a walk-in freezer - but cold.

It does a little to discredit the dead idea, but not much.

"See, Cellbo?" a different voice cuts in, one also familiar; Forever, looking every bit the extra ten years older, perhaps even more, drops himself next to Felps on the bed. "I can be trusted with some things!"

Cellbit does not quite have time to process any thoughts before Forever is insisting on helping him sit up, pushing pillows around as support. It probably is not needed, not entirely, but his exhausted muscles appreciate the break.

And he looks up from Forever to see Pac and Mike, sat watching him. Pac notices and grins at him, but the tears drip heavily down his cheeks, carving paths in the dust on his face.

"Why didn't you call us sooner?" Forever asks, face ever shifting between intensities. "We would have come."

"Would you?" slips out. He doesn't mean to say it - he remembers just enough to know he is not supposed to question their loyalty no matter how strange it may appear - but he did think it.

He damned himself. Why would they - why did they - come for him?

Cellbit manages not to ask that one.

In response Forever makes a wounded sound, flinching a little at the question. Cellbit's heart curls up, to know that some of the first words he has said to his family in ten years caused that response.

It's Pac who answers "yes", with Mike humming in agreement. The two shift in unison. Mike says "bro, I thought this was a trap and I still came for you" and Pac continues "nothing could have stopped us from trying" their words running into a single sentence.

Nothing? Cellbit doubts that. He wonders why they even came, with ten years to break the dependency and tooth-shaped scars in Pac's flesh.

But he does not have time to think more, because Felps tilts his head with a slightly awkward smile. "Nobody would let me," he says. "But, I would have found a way, even if they refused to help."

What could Felps have done, if he was still frozen? If Cellbit... If nobody had answered Cellbit's desperate call to save his friend, too deep in the Federation to do anything with the information he had found?

Would there have been consequences?

And Cellbit thinks of thin fingers and cold cheeks, of an unaged face and the word 'stasis' slipping between the redactions on Felps' file. He repeats to himself Felps' words, about not being allowed to go. Now that he thinks about it, the man never answered if he was okay, did he?

... He was too slow, wasn't he?

Cellbit was too slow, and Felps has suffered for it.

Anger burns up in Cellbit's throat, fury reborn at the realisation. He has never not been angry with the Federation, but there is a difference between the simmering and the overflowing. He needs to destroy them, to rip them apart - every last one - to paint their white halls in their blood and feast upon their entrails.

He needs to tear himself apart, to punish himself, to create even tougher scar tissue so he can push past and never fail again. Because he has, and he did, and only in fire can a weapon be reforged, and only on a grindstone can a dulled blade be sharpened.

But the Federation are not here, and there are four people here who will not let him hurt himself; all he can do is reach out, and pull Felps tightly against his chest.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm so sorry."

He thinks Felps must hear, or at least feel the quiet tears in his hair, because Felps' arms do not just loop around Cellbit, but squeeze him tightly in reply.

If anyone else hears, Cellbit is unsure. They don't react, though, or at least not that he sees; the three let them have a few moments, letting Cellbit cry into Felps' hair, and Felps cry into Cellbit's chest.

Eventually, however, Forever interrupts them. He does it by hugging them both, but also tapping Cellbit's shoulder as he does.

"I've got to go," he says. "You'll be okay? Our idiots will look after you."

It takes Cellbit longer to remember that Forever runs a rebellion and so of course is busy than it does for his heart to curl. Still, he clings onto Felps - the one he really needs - and nods.

"I'll be in my office if you need me," Forever replies. "The others are waiting in the crew quarters, if you want to end a tour there?"

He hesitates, eyes lingering on Cellbit momentarily, before he disappears on hurried feet, a radio already in hand.

There is a void left on the bed, one quickly filled by Pac and Mike scrambling over. The two are a chaos of limbs, but eventually resolve into Mike sat on the opposite side of the bed to Felps, and Pac perched over his legs.

"Do you hurt?" Mike asks.

That it is Mike of all people who asks...

Cellbit considers the question. He aches, yes, but not so much hurt - even where he was bitten, some sort of numbing cream seems to have been applied.

"I'm fine," he therefore answers.

"Good. I can do this then."

A second later there is a sting across his face, and an offended call of "Mike!" from Pac. Cellbit puts a hand to his cheek, right where Mike had just slapped him. He... probably deserved that, dragging them out all the way to Canada just because he was too incompetent to properly escape once his cover was blown.

Felps, having shifted in Cellbit's hold to watch, is laughing. Cellbit had forgotten just how dear his laugh was to him.

Seconds later, Mike wraps Cellbit in a hug, Felps scooped in too.

"You scared me, asshole. Ten years. Ten fucking /years/, Cellbo; we thought you were /dead/."

And... /Oh/.

Mike cares.

Cellbit... Cellbit deserved the slap, he knows that.

He doesn't deserve Mike's worry, though, not after he was the cause, not after everything he has done. He has never been worthy of the worry, but here it is.

"You could have asked us," Pac says, only doubling the pain in Cellbit's heart as he is looked at like he is worth something. "You had our details. We would have come. We always come, you idiot."

"I couldn't risk my cover," he replies. "I couldn't risk it. I had to-"

"Before, years ago," it's Mike, this time, and then Pac who continues. "When everything burnt" and together they say "You knew where we were, how to contact us; we would have come with you."

"You didn't have to go alone, you idiot," Pac finishes, at exactly the same time that Mike says "you could have at least said you survived, bro."

Cellbit thinks of Cucurucho's claws, and knows he would do /anything/ to keep his family far, far from them. Asking was not an option, not with how dangerous it was - he would never have risked them, not just to save himself a little heartache. They had each other; what did they need him for? And, what was saving Felps, what was uncovering the information to damn the Federation with, if the cost was more of his family?

The others, sure, but his family?

Felps is worth the world, but Pac and Mike and Forever are part of /Cellbit/'s world.

Mike grabs Pac's arm, pulling him into the hug. The patches of medical gown beneath their eyes are all, suspiciously, wet.

"We missed you," Felps says. "I missed you."

"You're safe now," says Pac. "We won't let them hurt you."

That's his line. That should be his line; they are criminals, yes, but he is the murderer, the bloodstained, the cannibal and the demon. It should be him who throws himself between them and the blade - something he has not been here to do.

Because while Felps looks like a slightly frailer man who disappeared ten years ago, the other three... all of their faces carry new scars. And all four of them are worn in a way Cellbit is sure is reflected on his face, but that he just wanted to save them from.

The Federation will burn, for daring to touch them - for the burn scars all across Pac's face, and the scratches littering Mike's skin. Forever's scars were more faded, but there certainly were a few.

For a while he drinks the three of them in, absorbs the feeling of knowing His People are safe again. He never wants to let go, except that he knows that he must. So many people, so much touch... Eventually his skin itches, and he has to push them away.

He tries to ignore the expressions they give him, and cannot ignore the tears - he wipes each of their cheeks in turn, and their hands wipe away his tears too.

"... A tour was mentioned?" he offers them, the best he can give that isn't begging them to understand, to never leave him.

The trio all perk up.

"Yeah about that," Mike's grin is a little dangerous. "Why /does/ Roier call you Gatinho?"

Pac elbows Mike, but there's also something terrifying in his eyes, "and you know Bad? BadBoyHalo? What a small world! There's even a lady claiming to be your sister! Why didn't you tell us?"

"Wait, I have a sister?!"

#qsmp x xcom #qsmp fanfic #forever mention #qsmp cellbit #qsmp pac #qsmp mike #qsmp felps #angst #hurt/comfort #this was going to go very different but well it wouldn't write #I was going to do more but honestly I think that line is the perfect place to end it #bagi roier and bad are the three mentioned as 'the others' waiting for cellbit #they weren't sure cellbit actually knows them and the infirmary is small so threw them out #this is right at my limit of how much forever and tumblr still gets to see #but i'm tired and don't care much right now #i'll sort it out... later #eepy factorial wants to watch streamer awards and this is a mistake #maybe also more op if he has time but probably just hc videos that take less brain #brain too soup for subtitles atm

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colecassiidy · 29 days

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Talk to me abt ur muse's experience w natural disasters

#Wld love to hear abt everybody's muses abt this -- dont make me come into ur inbox abt it HSKFJD bc theres too many-#tag me in a sep post if u gotta but lemme hear it :eyes:#ooc;; mun barks #hc: head up in the clouds;;#hc: history #Cole has had many between his travels thru all his verses #Kid's seen a whole flock of sheep slaughtered by lightning on a stormy night while theyd been sheltering beneath a tree #Flash flood by a river - a gang member swept away by it - and the aftermath of elk that'd died in a sudden onset blizzard #he's been caught in a handful of Wild Fires that'd gotten out of control tbh #one having been created during a criminal dispute that ended up exploding into an altercation #somebody threw a molotov and the campfire found leeway to spread during the scuffling #i think he's also seen a lotta tornadoes as a kid but he's been good w finding shelter or dodging them #i dont think he's had any personal experience w tsunamis #Earthquakes have also been very minor - small - tbh i think he sleeps thru them #Monsoon floods and fire have been where he's been worried most; though funnily enough i think floods #Hold a higher concern for him in terms of being caught in these things--#Like he's a little more locked in and focused when it comes to fires -- getting caught in a flood has him more? Worried

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goodieghosty · 1 year

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Reminder that it's your gender identity, you choose how you express it. And how you express it can change. Binders and surgery aren't what make you trans, You do.

#goodie talks #sorry i just got a flashback to one of my exes who got mad that I drew a character I hc as ftm with tiddies and threw a fit about #how 'he h a s to wear a binder if he's rlly trans'#like??? bro i'm sorry you think everyone has the same trans experience as you #trans #also bro wasn't even in the fandom #bro also only hc the characters he personally saw as 'small and weak' as trans which hmmm e w #why did I date that person

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aphroditesswan · 9 months

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Hi! I was wondering whether you could do hc’s on when hsr men and women react when they see a bulge (whether from their cocks or dildo’s) when their fucking you - G

intro: singularity

honkai star rail x afab fem reader

warning : smut, tummy bulge, nsft, rough sex, mating press, degrading, praise, full nelson, cowgirl, begging, body worship, mirror usage (?), size kink, breeding kink, marking, spanking, implied strap on use but never explicitly stated, breath play, i dunno what else ngl, might be ooc

summary : while the hsr characters are rearranging your insides, they notice themselves inside your guts. how do they react?

genre : smut

notes : can you tell i went SO HARD on the women’s.

Caelus

caelus threw his head back as he sank into you, his arms hooked around the back of your legs to spread them wide open for the mirror in front of you both, his hips bucking up to push himself further into you. he brought his gaze back, that the whole point of the mirror was to see your pretty face as he fucked you senseless. he moved in and out, his eyes moving around your body and almost completely tuning out your whines at his agonizingly slow pace. when he noticed the small bump in your stomach that disappeared when he pulled almost halfway out, he only got slower, wanting to see every second that his cock moved in and out of you and really, truly fucked you.

“just wait baby, please please please please… fuck you feel so nice around me.”

Stelle

her hands gripped your hips as she moved you up and down her length, her eyes focused on the way your chest moved up and down with your breath along with each sudden buck of her hips she made up into you. when stelle’s gaze finally met the bulge in your stomach, she bucked her hips up harder than before to get a good look at the tent that appeared and disappeared with each thrust, causing a yelp to be let out of you. she put pressure on the bulge as she thrusted in as deeply as she could, a giddy smile on her face that complimented her dazed eyes that were focused on your stomach and tits that bounced with each thrust. she was completely and utterly memorized with how your body moved and reacted to everything she did, and she was only determined to keep seeing the reactions on that pretty face of yours.

“look at how nice i look in you, baby… you’re sooo gorgeous like this,,”

March 7th

her hands eagerly moved around you, touching, feeling, groping wherever they could as she thrusted in and out of you. march noticed the slight movement in your stomach when she moved her hands down to claw into your thighs, but she didn’t stop any of her thrust. she kept going just as she had before she noticed, one hand digging into your thigh while the other pushed down on your stomach as she giggled softly at the sight. she was quick to grab her camera though, snapping a picture on her blue camera of the bulge in your stomach appearing as she thrusted in and out of you, then one of your flushed out face, getting your pretty tits in both pictures.

“you’re so pretty for me, how could i resist?”

Dan Heng

his fingers were digging into the soft plush of your thighs when he noticed, slowing down his moments which was complete agony for you. dan heng quietly observed with his mouth slightly agape, just gazing at the small bulge in your stomach that could be seen as he thrusted in and out of you harshly. he kept his eyes focused on you and clear, his demeanor seemingly calm, but the very obvious blush on his face and the way he’s staring straight into the little area of your guts spoke otherwise. he’ll return to his fast pace in just a second, just let him admire you for a bit.

“oh… oh, wow…”

Kafka

she had already bent you like a pretzel, you wondered how she hadn’t seen the bulge in your stomach by now as she pressed her hips against yours countless times. kafka had your legs over her shoulders, a gold anklet with the letter ‘k’ on it for her swinging back and forth and dangling next to her ear for her to hear as she pushed in and out of you. her gaze finally shifting from your fucked out expression to trial down between your bouncing breast and while on her way to where your bodies connected, something catching her eye that made her look from your dripping cunt to right above, the small bump going in and out with each thrust. she moved a hand that gripped right above your knee and pressed you against her chest to push down on the bulge, feeling it move under her as the other hand squeezed your neck softly.

“you’re such a slut, y’know? felt that this whole time and didn’t even think to tell me.”

Himeko

she was so,so,so gentle with you. himeko was always taking her time to fully sink you done onto her length as she sat you flat on her lap. she ran her hands over your body, pressing and squeezing where she wanted but was still so gentle with you, letting you set the pace and believe you were in control and everything. she had her eyes focused on you, eye contact being something she valued when fucking you so nicely you saw white. her hands trailed down the sides of your stomach, whispering praises on how good you were for her, how she enjoyed every single second of you on top of her when her hands stopped, fingers grazing over the place where she felt a bit of movement. she caught on rather quickly, laughing under her breath to herself.

“my… how lewd, don’t you think?”

Blade

with your thighs pressed against his large chest, movement for you was almost impossible unless blade was manhandling you or you were rocking back and forth from his harsh thrust. his hands gripped bruises into your hips, groaning into your ear as he restricted some of your breathing with just pressing himself onto you, your knees pushing your tits together and your thighs against your stomach. he was laid on top of you but was somehow keeping his stance with how he thrusted in and out of you. he looked down to see where you two met, seeing the small bulge that popped out whenever he was balls deep in you. he chuckled lowly at the sight below him, smacking your thigh which earned a small yelp and a star seeing clench around his cock from you.

“pathetic, you’re so small i’m practically popping out of you. you can take it, can’t you?”

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sadomas0chist · 11 months

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brat in pink I

────── toji fushiguro

⤷ mom’s bf!toji who can’t keep his eyes of you and your little slutty behavior at the small pool party you threw at your house.

tw: age gap (20s ; 40s) , toji is dating your mom (step cest??), corruption kink, daddy kink, starts as hcs, dun con, size kink, jealousy, filming (slightly), doggy, riding, squirting, breeding kink, spanking, slight dacryphilia, slapping, not proofread (wrote this at work lol), MDNI

part I - part II

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚mom’s bf!toji who grunts in annoyance when you beg your mom to let you throw a party in your house to celebrate your twenty first birthday. as much as he tries to look away, he can’t stop gazing at your pretty perky tits that are bouncing as you jump around following your mother.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚mom’s bf!toji who listens to the people you want to invite to your pool, his jaw clenching each time to mention a boy. especially when you mention gojo a light blush dusting your cheeks.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚mom’s bf!toji who is lowkey pissed that your mother finally agreed to your pleas, having to watch you dance around half naked in front of other men. he’s even angrier when he’s left all alone to supervise you since your mom will be away for a few days.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚mom’s bf!toji who balls his fist and glares at you when you start taking sexy picture in your small pink bikini, your ass and tits almost out as you pose sultry for the camera. he is pissed that you are taking more pleasure seeking the dumb young boys’ attention around you than focusing on having his. although you did.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚mom’s bf!toji who watches you closely as you dance against the white haired man, his hand dipping in your flesh as he sheepishly whispers in your ear. you catch him staring, a weird feeling rushing through your core as his eyes gaze at you, the goosebumps on your skin rising.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚mom’s bf!toji who makes up an excuse about how some chemicals got in the pool so all your invitees would leave. “i’m so sorry,” you repeated as they left, an understanding grin on their face. as gojo went to kiss you goodbye, toji stood next to you, pulling you closer to him. the young man took the hint as he stayed away, waving at you before leaving.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚mom’s bf!toji who silently watches you pick which picture looks better to post it on your feed. “you’re not clothed enough.” was his response when you went to him to have his opinion.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚mom’s bf!toji who wants to teach you a lesson about being a good girl instead of spreading half naked pictures of yourself for the world to see. he should only be the one to see them.

“daddy…” you whined as his hips rutted against your ass, his grip on your hip hardening at the nickname. toji threw his head back, watching you bury your flushed face between your plushies as he fucked you on your pink sheets. “daddy’s so mad at you for acting like a dirty brat, fhuck,” he grunted, pushing at your lower back to deepen your arch, your tiny cunt feeling tighter. “you’re gonna suffocate me, shit,”

toji was gripping your hands behind your back, pulling you up to play with your pretty nipples, occasionally pinching them to hear you yelp in pain, then bring you down again to keep thrusting hard. “‘m gonna ruin you for any other guy, especially that gojo,” hearing his words make you clench on him harder, the doubt and shame you had about fucking your mother’s boyfriend now gone. “you’re squeezing me baby, is it because i mentioned his name?” he harshly barks, spanking your plump ass. you whined and yelped, your lashes glossy as you try to push him away by wiggling your hips.

“nuh uh, no running from me,” he chuckled, his scar turning up with his lip as he grabbed your hair to pull your head up, your moans and tears turning him on even more. “i clenched because o-of you daddy,” you whimpered, your submissive self delighting him, his hips moving at a slower yet deeper pace. toji smirked before pulling out, a small whine leaving your lips as you were left to throb around nothing, you tiny hole clenching. it was adorably filthy. he was ruining you and he loved it. you heard him grab something before you saw a flash, realizing he was recording. “since you love looking like a whore,” he muttered, rubbing your ass before spanking it. “might as well get it on film.” he laughed, pulling you back on his swollen tip, his girth stretching you all at once.

“n-no, wait!!” you tried to stop him, but he didn’t listen. he pounded into faster, your body acting the opposite of your words as you found yourself throwing yourself back on him to meet him half thrust. “such a dirty brat,” he squeezed your ass, his hand going around your waist to rub your clit. “so good,” you lulled out your tongue, eyes half lidded. he pulled his sticky hair back before bringing your body up. his thumb pressed against your tongue, opening your mouth even more before taunting you: “who else can make you stick out your tongue like a filthy slut huh? who?” he bit your neck, your whines accentuating as he stimulated your clit, your orgasm close.

“just you, no one else b-but you daddy, i wanna cum,” you cried, your head heavy as you threw it back on his shoulder. you went limp. his hips pounded you faster before throwing you back on the bed, your legs spread out as you gushed on your bed, squirting and making a mess on your pink sheets, your pretty pussy quivering.

“cum for daddy that’s it, make a mess baby,” he stroked his cock as he watched you go dumb, slapping your pussy a few times just to watch you shake. he ended the recording, smiling at the video before throwing his phone away.

“we’re not done yet sweetheart, up.” you whined as he handled you, turning you around to kiss you lips, his tongue parting your lips to deepen the kiss. he sat on the bed next to you, pulling you to his hard cock, slamming you on top of him. you whimpered against his lips as he fucked up into you, his hands digging into your hips, hoping his fingerprints would replace gojo’s. “he’ll never be able to fuck you like this. hear me?” he slightly slapped your cheek then grabbed your jaw to make you look at him, your face fucked out. he was fucking dumb and you were becoming incoherent. the only thing that was coming out of your mouth were the whines and moans as he sucked on your tits the while he slammed your small pussy.

you were so small compared to him, so easy to hold, to fuck and to manipulate. you were so easy to corrupt and he was enjoying every second of it. “daddy, ‘s big, so big,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. toji held on your hands to guide it to your lower stomach, making your feel his depth. “daddy’s here baby,” the overstimulation made you moan, you legs bucking uncontrollably as your second orgasm hit you.

“know what, fucking hell, you feel so good baby, so fucking tight, my cock’s gonna stretch you so good,”

“gonna breed you, so no one else can touch you, huh? what’d you say,” he chuckled as he slammed a few more times inside you, emptying his heavy load inside you. your insides felt warm and good as his cum filled you up, your head too heavy to even react to what was going on.

you woke up the next day on new sheets and naked on your bed. you grabbed your phone to find an airdrop message. you gasped when you saw the video that toji took from you last night, your thighs squeezing as you recalled how his fat cock felt inside you. shamelessly, you airdropped him back a well taken picture of you spread out on your bed, biting your nails and pussy puffy. it didn’t take him a lot to come rushing through your bedroom door to ruin you again.

#jjk smut #toji fushiguru #toji fushiguro #toji smut #toji x you #toji headcanons #toji fic #toji fushiguro x you #jjk toji #toji x y/n #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader

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ptolemaeacles · 8 months

Note

pls write more for hazel omg i loved the cheerleader hcs maybe like a childhood best friends to lovers so lots of pining and smut maybe

♡ you belong with me

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

synopsis: hazel has had a crush on her best friend since they met in the 1st grade. they were freshman in college now and hazel realizes she can’t keep her feelings to herself anymore.

warnings: 18+ minors dni (both reader and hazel are 18), smut, childhood best friends to lovers, switch!hazel, switch!reader, top!reader, bottom!hazel (no pun intended), let me know if i missed anything!!

notes: aw thank you !!! im glad you liked the hcs. also small disclaimer, i'm a horrid smut writer and i rushed the ending because i didn't want to keep you waiting. hope you like !!!

word count: 2.5k

“god, i’m so excited. i mean this is the first time a girl has asked me out. usually it’s guys who approach me and then i get weird comments when i tell them i like women…” you rambled on but hazel could barely focus. she could only feel the empty pit in her stomach.

you were so happy to be going on a date and all she could think about is if you would ever be this excited to go on a date with her. she tried to convince you to not go but there was only so much she could do without giving her feelings away.

hazel thinks she’s loved you since the day she met you. before she knew what ‘love’ meant or what it looked like, she loved you. to her, you were the very definition of that word.

hazel’s hopeless crush started in the 1st grade. it wasn’t some cute interaction where one of you saved the other from a bully or something. it was simple with the both of you. it always has been.

you came up to her during lunch and told her you would give her half of your sandwich if she agreed to be your friend.

“what kind of sandwich is it?” hazel asked, from her seat on the lunch table.

“peanut butter and strawberry jelly.”

“i’m allergic to strawberries.”.

“then don’t eat it and just be my friend.” you sat next to her without another word and the both of you left it like that. simple.

since then, she knew she would never escape you. and she never wanted to. but right now, she felt like if you didn’t stop talking to her about this date, her head would explode.

hazel watched you walk around your room, shuffling through your closet for an outfit to the movies with the girl who asked you out. she never bothered remembering the girl’s name because she thinks it would the whole situation worse for her. she didn’t want to know anything about that girl.

“...and she said we’ll get ice cream later which i hope-” hazel interrupted you.

“hey, i think i should get home. my mom’s probably wondering where i am and shit, so… i’ll see you later.” hazel wanted to get away as soon as possible. not from you but from the giddiness she could practically feel radiating off your body at the thought of your date.

“oh.. i thought you told your mom that you were going to study at my place after classes?” you questioned. hazel’s quiet behavior didn’t go unnoticed by you. she was always quiet but after more than 10 years of friendship, you could tell which silences were good and which weren’t. this definitely wasn’t a good one.

“yeah well, we aren’t studying so. i’d better get going, bye.” she spoke in a flat tone, with her head down, as she grabbed her backpack and made her way out of your room.

you stood still, staring at the open door of your room and wondering if you had done something.

hazel walked into her house, red in the face and a vicious grip on the doorknob. she ran up to her room, and threw her backpack in a random corner, probably knocking her guitar down. but her guitar was the last thing on her mind.

she was pissed at you. mostly herself but you as well. she knew she had no right to be angry at you but how could you never see that hazel was right there. she was right in front of you, waiting for you to even glance in her direction. it’s all she wanted. to be the one who makes you laugh, the one who you’d think of when you saw romantic tiktok slideshows, the one who took you out on rollerblading dates, the one who got to kiss you before dropping you off back to your house, the one who got to slide her hand up your skirt, the one who got to be in between your legs-

she groaned and loudly, flopping onto her bed and stuffing her face in her pillow. she needed to apologize before her stupid feelings ruined your friendship.

hazel had a plan. she was going to go to your house after your date and apologize. apologize for being a dick, apologize for falling in love with you, apologize for every and anything she could apologize for so that you wouldn't hate her. she expected you to yell at her or ask her what was wrong with her. what she didn't expect was you to be calling her phone, right now.

she pressed the green 'accept' button and put the phone up to her ear.

"haze.." she could hear you sniffling through the phone, "i-, uh, can i come over, please? my date- it just- it went horribly and i really want to see you. please." hazel felt her heart drop 10 stories.

"yeah, yeah, i'll come pick you up, angel, where are you?" she questioned.

"outside your house."

hazel ran down the stairs and opened her front door, to be met with your red eyes and puffy face.

you immediately wrapped your arms around hazel, burying your face in her chest. her hands went landed themselves in your hair, stroking it gently in an attempt to comfort.

hazel helped you into her room, setting you down on her bed.

"do you want to talk about it?" she asked softly.

"she- she, um, she stood me up." you could barely get a sentence out without hiccuping. hazel reached over to her nightstand and pulled out an unopened water bottle, unscrewing the cap and handed it to you.

you whispered a thank you and took a few sips. it was hazel's turn to speak now.

"fuck her," you give her a confused look, "oh no, not fuck her, don't do that, i meant that you should just forget about her. she obviously isn't the one for you if she stood you up, and there are so many other people in the world-"

"hazel."

"yes?"

you didn't waste anymore time. you grabbed hazel's face in your hands and crashed your lips into hers.

hazel was sure this was a dream. there was no way you were kissing her right now. she definitely fell asleep and she's imagining this whole thing.

while hazel was having her loser lesbian crisis, you noticed that the kiss wasn't being reciprocated.

'fuck.' you thought. you just ruined your closest and longest friendship. you pulled away from her.

"shit, haze, i didn't mean to do that, i'm not sure what i was thinking-" you started but were quickly shut up when hazel pulled you back in for another kiss.

relief flooded your body. she wanted this. both of you wanted this.

hazel felt you smile into the kiss and took that as her 'go ahead'. she tilted her head, deepening the kiss. shyly, she moved her hand from her lap to your waist. you moved one of your hands to the side of her neck and the other in her hair. you could practically feel her pulse beating rapidly under your palm.

hazel gained a newfound confidence and pushed you back onto her bed, slotting herself between your legs. her lips hovered over your neck before attacking your neck with sloppy kisses. her lips trailed down your neck, making sure to savor the taste of you. her lips met the fabric of your blouse.

"can i take this off, please?" she asked in a breathy manner, as if she had just ran a marathon. you nodded, at a loss for words.

“need to hear you say it, baby. need to know you want it just as bad as i do.” hazel wasn’t aware how raspy her voice was, as if she hadn’t drank water in days.

“take it off, haze, please. take it all off.” you whispered and caught her lips with yours while she lifted your top off your body. once she had your top thrown in a random corner in her room, she went straight for your pants, not even bothering to take her own clothes off.

“fuck, hazel,” you were breathless, “i want to see you, too.” you swallowed, gripping the beige button up she was wearing, hoping she knew what you meant.

“you will, princess, don’t worry. i just want to focus on you right now, okay?” you nodded, not fully sure what ‘focusing on you’ meant.

hazel had you in just your bra and underwear, her eyes scanned your body hungrily. if this was a dream, she prayed she remembered every single moment when she woke up. you were better than any fantasy she could conjure up on those lonely nights, when she couldn't think of anything but you.

you felt her strong gaze settle on your body and you felt self conscious thoughts take the forefront of your mind. you raised your hands over your body, starting to think hazel didn’t want you like you wanted her.

“hey,” hazel grabbed your hands and gently pushed them to your sides, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted you like this. how many nights i’ve stayed up thinking about you.” hazel started kissing down your neck, making her way to your chest.

she pulled your bra down, not even bothering to fully unhook it before latching her tongue down onto your right nipple.

the wet feeling of her mouth made you cry aloud, completely forgetting her mom (and jeff, too, probably) were a few feet down the hall.

hazel lifted her mouth of your tit with a pop, moving her hand to squeeze it instead.

“i’d love to hear you, angel, but i need you to be quiet,” she feverishly pecked your lips, “just tonight, hm?” you murmured a response, more concerned with the ache between your thighs than anything else.

you guessed hazel read your mind or something, as she started moving down the bed towards the place on your body that needed the most attention. she looked up to you, as if asking once more, if this was what you really wanted.

“haze, please.” you whined. that was all the confirmation she needed. she slid your panties down slowly, watching a string of wetness connect your pussy and your underwear. hazel felt herself growing wet at the fact that she did this to you. it filled her with a new sense of confidence. she didn’t even wait for your panties to completely slip off your legs before diving in between your thighs.

your back arched off the bed the moment you felt hazel’s tongue make contact with your swollen bud. she slipped her wet muscle throughout your folds, desperate to catch every single drop of wetness she could.

“fuck, haze, feels really fucking good.” you moaned and brought your hand to the back of her head, gripping her hair between your fingers in ecstasy.

she hummed in response to the praise you were giving her, sending vibrations throughout your core that nearly made you choke. hazel continued to suck on your clit, holding your thighs apart with her hands hooked under your knees. she slid her face side to side with her tongue flat against your pussy, moving your clit with just the right amount of pressure.

you felt a pressure building in your lower belly and tried to move hazel’s face closer to your mound to chase your release.

and she stopped.

you lifted your head from the pillow and stared at her kissing your thighs, before going to unbuckle her own pants.

“wait hazel,” you put your hands on top of her jean button, “can i?” you spoke so quietly, hazel barely caught what you were saying. she nodded her head, unsure of what else to do.

you gently unbuttoned her jeans before sliding them and her boxers down and allowing hazel to step out of them. you lifted her button up over her head and unclasped her bra, letting them fall onto the space on the floor next to her. she was in awe of you. you were so gentle to her and she would never believe she deserved it, even if you reminded her of it everyday for the rest of her life.

once she stood completely naked in front of you, you led her to lay down on bed, stomach facing up, before separating her legs and hooking one of your own over hers.

you looked at her face for any sign of discomfort, only to be met with the rapid rise and fall of hazel’s chest and her eyes shut in euphoria.

“hazel,” you caught her attention, she stared right at you, “keep your eyes on me.” you lowered yourself gently, placing your clit right on top of hers. both of you let out a sigh of relief at the feeling of your juices mixing with the others.

placing your hands on her stomach, you moved slowly, rocking your hips back and forth against hers. hazel struggled to keep her eyes open, getting lost in the pleasure you were giving her. she always thought of moments exactly like this and imagined it being a lot different. she imagined that she would be the one on top of you, taking charge and pulling orgasm after orgasm from you. but after feeling the movement of your hips against hers and the way your breasts bounced slightly when you would pick up your pace. hazel fought her hardest to keep her eyelids from drooping. she didn’t want to miss a single move you made.

you quickly found a steady rhythm and went faster, prompting hazel to cry out. you leaned down and caught her moans in a rough kiss.

the familiar coil in your belly seemed to get tighter and tighter. hazel must’ve noticed the way your hips started to rock faster and knew you were about to cum.

“c’mon, cum for me, baby. give it to me, i’m almost there too,” she started rambling as she felt her orgasm approach her as well, “keep going, just a bit faster, angel.” both of you fought to keep your moans from being heard from anyone else in the house.

“fuck hazel, i’m cumming, i-” you were cut off as your orgasm hit you in waves. warmth spread throughout your body, making your limbs weak and causing your legs to nearly give out.

you kept going, over stimulating yourself, trying to get hazel to reach her orgasm. by the looks of it, she was on the edge. her baby hairs stuck to her sweaty forehead, her face scrunched up in pleasure as her back arched into the air.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck-” she rambled as her orgasm washed over her, quickly quieted by your mouth capturing hers.

the both of you gently rode out your releases, breathless and sweaty. you carefully lifted yourself off of hazel and laid next to her on the bed.

“we should talk about this, you know.” hazel started.

“we will. in the morning, i promise. for now, i just want to be with you.” that seemed to be enough for hazel.

you draped your arm over her waist, pulling her closer to you. she tucked her head in the crook of your neck and the both of you drifted off to sleep.

#hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan #hazel callahan imagine #hazel bottoms #hazel callahan fanfiction #hazel callahan smut #♡ ang’s anons

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sexydoffyman · 29 days

Note

Weird request but how would TF141+König and Alejandro react to meeting an orphan around 15 years of age who's like extremely talented in engineering, mathematics and physics, like they could build a rocket if they had the materials ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ It can be HC, whatever you want! I was thinking maybe said orphan got in trouble with the government for unknowingly building some sort of weapon, maybe it was stolen? Twist that however you wish.

Just ignore this ask if you wanna <3

A KID?

genre: action

characters: König, Simon Riley, John MacTavish, Alejandro Vargas, Kyle Garrick

A/n: expect a lot more mistakes. Also thinking this needs a second part.

It’s been 6 years now since the war began. You were left stranded. All by yourself. Left on your own by everyone. Living was hard, but you pulled through. You learned how to do a lot of shit since you were there only with yourself for some time. Building stuff. That was your biggest interest.

You were constantly making things. New weapons mostly. You were always moving, never staying in one place for too long. You got brutal throughout the years you were alone. You took the uniform of a dead soldier. To blend in. You were mistaken for a recruit and pulled inside a helicopter by a military dude.

The military was a great provider of food and healthcare. So you just went along with everything they threw at you. Your knowledge of building shit helped out a lot. And even when some dude figured out you were a kid he let you stay.

The same dude put you in a task force with a man he trusted. You were cautious of everyone in there, but at least you had some people who you could trust a bit.

You picked up how things work from the years of pretending to be a soldier. Pretending to be an adult was getting easier and the task force you were assigned to found a place in your heart.

“There’s gotta be a way.” You finally snapped out of thinking about life before the war. You thought that the military would be a great cover. But now all your hope of making it out alive hit zero. You were stuck and with gas slowly filling the room that you and the others were in you knew your chances of survival were low.

You sat in the corner of the room. You had given up a few minutes ago already. The others were still trying to figure something out.

Suddently you felt something inside of you snap. You were not gonna die today. It must’ve been the panicking of the rough men infront of you that made you have that feeling. You started to search for a solution.

You found a small vent. It was too small to fit a grown man in, but you were not a grown man. You took off your gear and crawled into the vent unnoticed by your team.

You finally got to use the skills you gained. You crawled through the vent and dropped down from the ceiling right on the other side of a door that the rest of your team was trying to open. You managed to get inside some kind of an electrical system. You cut some wires and reconnected some other ones. The door opened with a space in between the doors just a centimeter big.

Grabbing a metal piece from the electrical you prayed the door open. You were met with the looks of your crew. You looked down and put your hand above your forehead to block your face. By now all of them realized that you weren't of age.

You ran into the room to grab your gear while your team gave each other a disgusted glance. “We need to get out of here ASAP,” you said as you walked away from the room. Price grabbed you by the shoulder to stop you. You turned to him with your mask on now.

“How old are you?” he was looking at you worriedly while he said that. You didn’t know what to answer and so after a few stutters you answered “Classified” This only made them feel more curious.

It has been days since that mission and nobody brought up the fact that you were a kid. You did notice that Price stopped shouting orders at you and started just saying them in a normal calm tone. Soap was making more small talk with you than usual. Ghost was staying closer to you, knowing you might not be able to fend off an enemy. Gaz was making sure to double-check your gear.

When you teamed up with Mexican special forces and met Alejandro you were given tasks that you’d be on with multiple people.

When you were stranded from the team, finding your way to a spot they could locate you at, you met another dude. Austrian and huge. Big dude. He was your enemy, but it didn’t take him long to find out that an adult dude would have a little more strength than you did. He forced your mask off and found out that you were in fact a kid.

Instead of killing you, he spared you. Helping you locate your tram instead of them having to look for you.

Would you survive the next missions? That you don’t know. But you do know that you don’t have to worry about pretending to be an adult.

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jelliessoap · 8 months

Note

Idea! he team found out about Price's husband on a tv game, which they were watching out of boredom. His last name on the jersey is [lastname]-price. They think its a coincidence. But when he makes a winning shot, and the camera pans to him, he dose this specific hat thing, like pinch and smuge the rim of his hat, like when you pinch salt. They realize, its what Price dose! Coincidence I think not!

OMG I LOVE THIS IDEA SM!!!! IM !!!!!!!

hehehe some hcs under the cut thank you anon!

no warnings i can think of, m!reader, reader is a pitcher in this!

- john would have the game on at the base, ultimately forcing the rest of the task force to watch as well

- literally put the remote in his pocket so they couldn’t change it. they just assumed he really liked the sport for some reason and watched it as well.

- soap was and gaz ended up being the only ones truly paying attention, ghost would give the screen a glance every now and then, mostly just listening to the announcers voice as background noise.

- price only paid attention when you were on the field as per usual, sat next to gaz puffing away at his cigar, soap sat on the floor ( swears its more comfy ), with ghost at the opposite end of the couch

- it was bottom of the 9th and the opposing team’s bases were loaded, 3 balls 2 strikes and 2 outs. your team was up by two points but if they managed to hit a run or walk there was a good chance they could catch up. you needed to strike him out.

- price was stressed. his body tense as he leaned forward eyes fixed on the screen.

- gaz is looking at him like ‘???’ because price never mentioned being a baseball fan.

- it wasn’t that he kept you or your career a secret, it was well known he was married. he was just never questioned about it by the boys and the topic never got brought up

- he also figured it might be safer for both of you seeing you were such a public figure and he had plenty of threats with his job, it wasn’t exactly something he bragged about at work. should your identity fall into the wrong hands he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something happened to you

- ghost ever the observer couldn’t help but notice the way price paid extra attention to the player with, [last name]-price on the back of their jersey. though he figured it was just coincidence

- soap was just excited to be watching a sport tbh, thought it was boring but started to understand as the game went on. now that things were tense he was at the edge of his seat.

- “c’mon luv…” price would mutter under his breath barely audible as you prepared for the pitch that could make or break the game

- you threw a strike with precision, striking their batter out and earning your team the win for the night

- you had your signal to price, it’d become a bit of a signature move for you. as your teammates joined you on the field, cheering and celebrating everyone pumped full of adrenaline you smiled brightly eyes searching for the camera

- as soon as you found it you pulled your signature move, pinching the bill of your baseball cap and smudging your fingers along it while shooting a small wink to the camera. every one of your movement a direct communication to price. that you’d played for him, you won for him, that you were still thinking of him

- gaz noticed your gesture and looked to price in slight confusion. he’s seen price make that exact gesture with his boonie hat more times than he could count.

- ghost noticed too, also taking note of the way price’s lips twitched upward when he watched you and your team celebrate on screen. he was already sure there was something deeper to price’s interest in the game

- soap of course was the first to open his mouth

- “s’like he’s yer soulmate er somethin, captain.”

- “he is.” price would state so seriously, not a hint of joking in his tone. only fondness, even a bit of pride, his eyes never leaving the screen clinging to every bit of you he could get while so far away

- gaz’s eyes would get all wide and he’d say something like “right way to go cap.” finds the fact that price would watch a whole baseball game just for you and your on screen silent communications really romantic ( hopeless romantic gaz truthers rise up! )

- ghost pats himself on the back mentally, muttering a “knew it.”

- then there’s soap who turns his head so fast he nearly gets whiplash, eyes wide and jaw dropped, “YER GAY??” which earns him a light nudge in the side from ghost’s boot and a chuckle from price

#I LOVED WRITING THIS SO CUTE!!!#might make this a series or something #cod #cod headcanons #call of duty #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod x male reader #ghost cod #gaz cod #soap cod #john price #captain john price #john price x male reader #john price headcanons #headcanons #cod mw2 headcanons #male reader #cod modern warefare 2

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hazelfoureyes · 1 month

Text

A Doe in Fall (Part 3)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦

Part 3 A tragedy

So enraptured with Alastor, you forgot how you left work on Saturday. Tommy didn’t forget. And he made sure you remembered. Unfortunately for him, and fortunately for you, your paramour made a habit of helping quicken karma’s balancing act.

「warnings/promises: immediate physical assault (let’s be up front about that), allusions to sexual assaults having happened in the past to non-reader characters, HumanAlastor x FemReader, penetrative sex, Protective Alastor, bruises, somewhat graphic descriptions of murder, mentions to coerced prostitution, sex near a corpse (words that have the FBI watching me), stabbing, knife, bad burlesque names, gambling, my own new HC for the Radio Demon’s origins, another deer reference thanks to @n-after-me , chin quivering, Tommy doesn’t know French and it shows, posted early for @jazzmasternot, wrath」

Minors DNI 🤺

You walked into the theatre for rehearsals with a pep in your step, body still humming. It was like the usual adrenaline rush Alastor brought couldn't fade this time.

But it did, when Tommy grabbed you by the hair out of your makeup chair and threw you into the wall.

You couldn’t react, head ringing after it left a small indent in the drywall. Unlike before, you didn’t try to stand. Make him work for his second hit. And he did. Leaning down he yanked you off the ground by your arm and dragged you to your feet.

“Do you think you’re funny?” He shook you, you were sure you could feel your brain jostle. It was rhetorical, but you replied anyway.

“No, Tommy.”

“No. Exactly.” He backed you up onto the make up table, head pressed into the mirror. “Mr. Wilson was not happy. He pulled his contribution. I know you don’t have that kind of money. Do you know what you’re gonna do?”

His fingers dug into your cheeks, “No.” You genuinely didn’t. He was talking to you like you had been in the loop on whatever it was he had been doing on the side. All of this was as shocking to you as your actions were, apparently, to him.

“You’re gonna take whatever meetings I make until that money is back.” He let go of you and turned to leave but changed his mind. Coming back, he swung his fist and clocked you on the left side of your face.

You didn’t see it, but you heard the other girls running and pulling Tommy off of you, yelling and pleading for him to calm down.

“I worked really hard for you!” He shouted, jerking his shoulders out from under the hands of the other performers. What was he talking about? You hadn’t discussed any of this, asked for any thing from him. “I waited for a high roller for you. Real classy guy. Just wanted a private show! That was it!” He spit, “No, every Tom, Dick, and Harry is welcome now to ask for your time.”

You just held your face, unsure if you had the right makeup to hide the bruise before stage call.

“Well?! Say you’re sorry.”

You considered not saying anything. No response. When you looked at him, you could see the half a dozen other girls staring back at you, just say it. We have to rehearse.

“I’m sorry.” Eyes cast to the floor.

“For what?”

It hurt when you rolled your eyes, “For being ungrateful?”

He shoulder checked a few girls on the way out. A couple came to you.

“He’s got some gambling debt, he’s just using us to get ahead.”

“I have some stuff to cover that up for tonight.”

“He usually cuts us in.”

Tears stung your eyes, you were angry and humiliated. You could work elsewhere, with a little luck. Take a job at a diner out of the area where no regulars would stir up trouble. Maybe leave until Tommy got his debts paid off or whatever was motivating this recent streak of cruelty. But you didn’t want to run away. No one applauded waitresses. Maybe if you made yourself as unattractive as possible, no one would request you. Dirty your teeth, talk about other men, speak crudely.

“What exactly was he talking about?” you asked no one in particular. The girls were quiet for a beat.

“Well ya know, private shows for clients who can afford it.” High pitched and nasal, Florence spoke as she searched her make up station.

“That’s it?” Incredulous.

“Sometimes. You know how it is… woman left alone in a room with a man who has too much money or ego or drink. Doesn’t always stop at a dance.” Minnie had much more experience than you, “It isn’t our jobs. It isn’t normal. But, well, ya heard about New York right? They’re trying to make burlesque outright illegal…”

“Gotta enjoy the art while it’s just misunderstood.” Florence wiped down your mirror before setting her supplies down for you. “Come on, let’s get you fixed up.”

By the time patrons began to stream in, you had blood staining the white of your left eye. Nothing you could do, but maybe at a distance it wouldn’t be noticeable. The bruise under your eye from his fist was easy enough to cover. The contusion from where your right cheek hit the wall was a little harder.

Luckily, the stage offered a buffer of space and the rest of the room was dark.

During your show, you tried to keep your eyes moving so the red sclera never stayed in one place too long. For the first time, the cheers did nothing for you. You felt your chin quiver, fighting back tears. You wanted to scream, to tell them to hate you and leave. Stop fucking clapping.

Ruth was naturally the first to come to you after your performance, “Want me to do the tour with you? Arm in arm around the hall.”

You took her up on the offer. It lightened the load, her taking charge of the conversation when people approached or bought you drinks. Luckily the bartender always poured the performers weak cocktails and watered down liquor to keep their heads on straight.

Ruth’s companionship afforded you precious time to plan, to consider how quickly you could find new work or at least a way out of this.

“What a treat. Two for one. Can I buy you both a drink?”

Ruth turned first to greet the customer, “Ooh yes sir! Gin and tonic, please and thank you. Autumn?” Your stage name drew your attention back to the world, turning finally.

“Alastor.” It fell from your mouth like a lead balloon.

He smiled down at you, his hand offering a little wave, “Hello. Surprise.”

Your face fell, a frown pulling down your chin. It took you too long to recover, batting your eyelashes and turning the corners of your lips up unnaturally.

“So you do have a beau!” Ruth slapped your arm, “I’m Skye, Skye Scraper. Pleasure to meet you, Alastor.” She extended her hand, Alastor planting a kiss on the back of it, concealing his smile at the name.

You tried to keep your eyes on the floor, head turned slightly away from him to obscure the neon sign of an eye shouting, ‘Weak!’

Unfortunately for you, Alastor wasn’t an oblivious man. Unless he was dancing or drunk. “May I have a moment alone with her?” Alastor asked Ruth. Ruth looked to you for your okay, and you just nodded. She gave a little nod of her own to Alastor and slinked away.

“Are you unhappy to see me, dear? Did I overstep by coming by unannounced?” You hadn’t heard him worried before, it pained you.

“No, no! I am… so happy to see you. I just had a long day.” You scanned the room for the darkest area to bring him. A booth would be best, you could keep him on one side of you. You gestured with a nod of your head.

“Ah, I kept you out too late.” Alastor didn’t move.

“Not at all, come on let’s sit down.” You reached back for his hand without looking at him, but when you pulled he still didn’t move. He remembered the way you pulled at the hand of that man in the alley the first night you met. Desperate to escape somewhere.

“Is there a reason you won’t look at me?”

Lie.

“Uh, no, I’m just embarrassed about this heavy stage makeup.”

Alastor paused, hand slipping from yours to adjust his sleeves. It was a nervous action, an attempt to self soothe, but you didn’t know that. “I should have asked before coming.”

“Alastor, it’s not…,” you kept your eyes down at your hands.

“Then look at me.”

Would he think you were incapable of protecting yourself? His pity would kill you. Perhaps he would decide a second rate burlesquer wasn’t worth making time for anymore.

You could intentionally wound him, say you don’t want to see him so he leaves. But that sword was double edged and you weren’t sure you’d survive that either. You weren’t making it out of this.

You finally looked at him. He leaned in, “What happened to your eye?” A slender finger gently tilting your chin upward.

Lie.

You thought too long for an answer. Why were you getting worse at lying? It used to be one of your best shields and swords but now you were so slow on the draw you were left defenseless. Vulnerable. His hand took yours, gently pulling you into the lobby and through the glass doors of the theatre.

Under the bright lights of the marquee and the street lamps, Alastor inspected your face. He reached into his pocket for his handkerchief, wetting it in his mouth before wiping the makeup off of your under eye.

“Alastor, people are staring.”

His eyes fell down, soft hands lifting your arm where a bruise was already formed. You hadn’t noticed that one.

“What happened?” He wasn't looking at you when he said it, instead cautiously wiping the makeup off your cheeks in search of more marks.

“The truth or wh-“

“Always. Never give me anything else.”

You sighed, and explained, “Tommy, the manager, he’s been shifting tactics for bringing in money because he owes some big bads a lot of debt. Private shows with performers that sometimes get hands on…,” his hands stopped moving but his eyes didn’t meet yours, “I never asked to be included in it. I wouldn’t do it. I was rude to a man Tommy introduced me to and I ran off Saturday. Yada Yada. He got me as soon as I got to work.”

Alastor didn’t reply, just turned on his heels and marched back into the theater. You chased after him, “I don’t need you to fight my battles!” You tried to get in front of him but he walked right past you.

“Not about what you need, dear, it's about what he deserves.”

Alastor asked the bartender for Tommy, who pointed to the short but stocky man talking to a group of guests. Alastor approached so quickly Tommy didn’t have time to greet him, instead just backing up until he fell ass first into a booth. Alastor boxed him in, one hand on the wall and one on the table, towering over Tommy as he sat.

“I hear you sell dancers by the night.”

You paced the lobby nervously. Would you be fired? What would Alastor say? Would Tommy hit him, too?

He re-emerged, “Come to my car, please.” He didn't stop walking as he said it.

You followed a few blocks down to his car, parked on the street. He opened the passenger door for you and closed it behind you. You wanted to ask if you were going somewhere, but thought better of it. A tight u-turn, he pulled the car into the side street where you’d first met each other.

Wordlessly he got out of the car, you opening your door before he could. Popping the trunk, he set the folded canvas inside a paper bag. Checking first, he placed it inside one of the tin trash cans.

You stood, waiting for an explanation.

Finally he stopped and made eye contact with you. “You have a date tomorrow, with me. Bring this to the apartment above the theater before Tommy and I arrive.” Opening your mouth to speak, he didn’t stop to let you add anything. “Preferably near the bed.” He closed the trunk, “Wear red, please.”

You searched his face for some kind of discernible emotion but found none. Those constricted pupils again, an animal staring back at you from behind a pair of glasses. There was no reason to ask him, it was obvious what was going to happen. Did you want to stop it?

Did you want to see it? Alastor at work?

“Okay. On all the points.” You looked back at the trashcan, “Canvas hidden near the bed. Wear red.”

“The extra clothes can go anywhere out of sight.” He leaned down, kissing your forehead, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Your voice cracked a little, “Wait, you’re leaving already?”

He nodded, “I can’t stay here.” Before getting into his car he turned and added, “Don’t cover the bruises tomorrow. He should see them.”

You nodded in return, “Are you doing this for me?” So quiet you almost hoped he didn’t hear it.

He paused, one leg already in the car and his back to you, “No. I’m doing it for everyone.”

You watched his car light up and leave the alley.

It’s not that you felt abandoned, you felt…. Stranded. You had to go back in there, alone, and put on the normal act but under abnormal conditions.

So it was happening. You hadn’t seen the first time. Just felt it. You didn’t see the second. You were going to actually see a man die. Not just a man, someone you knew. Someone you used to consider a friend of sorts. Before he got into whatever trouble was driving him to act like a flesh peddler. Could you do it? Could you watch a man be killed? Was that even what Alastor had planned?

Tommy found you the second you were back in the room, hand pressing too hard on the bruises he left on your arm. “You have a meeting tomorrow after your show. If you don’t show up,” he yanked you close, putrid breath of dead teeth you’d never been bothered by before this moment and bad booze assaulting your senses, “I will fucking kill you.”

You almost started laughing, bringing your hand to your mouth to hide your smile. “Okay Tommy.”

Fuck it. He was going to die anyway, might as well make it a date.

Ruth saddled up beside you as soon as Tommy was out of earshot, “Look at that smile. Quickie in the alley?”

Disgust, “Jesus, Skye, I was gone like, 5 minutes.” She shrugged. “Why does everyone think — is everyone fucking their daddies* in the side street?” She nodded. “Well, I’m not.”

“Prude.” She joshed before linking your arm in hers again, “We’ve got at least another hour of schmoozing. Tits up!”

Your smile came effortlessly that night, a thrum of excitement keeping you light on your feet. Not excitement for death, but for the very concept of being closer to Alastor. Would you see it happen, in front of you? Or would he have you leave? Either way, you were an active participant with a task list.

He trusted you, even if in a small way. Trust was so rarely given from the people who mattered. Men trusted you often; to be sweet when they tell you they were embarrassed about something, to lie when they ask if you orgasmed, to not steal their cash when they blacked out with their pants still on. Pulling it from strangers was one of your greatest pleasures. But it was easy. You were skilled.

Yet again, like so often now, Alastor was the exception. He didn’t toss himself at your feet. He stood tall in front of you and on his own terms offered you the things you wanted. You didn’t have to pretend to be demure, you didn’t have sit on his lap in silence and nod and laugh. Just yourself, as much as you could allow yourself to exist in the world. No tricks. If his trust was presented wrapped in a bloodied bow, well, you would thank him dearly and wear the ribbon round your neck like a trophy.

Many men spoke to you, but luckily your participation in conversation wasn’t something they really cared about. As they spoke, your eyes were looking past them and into the future.

However there was a sense of dread when you lied in bed that night. The excitement of getting closer to Alastor had melted into the fear there was no going back from this.

Something in your chest stung, a thorn growing from somewhere unknown. Three encounters (that he knew of) and already it seemed your thoughts were more Alastor than yourself. No person had ever made such an impression before. You didn’t like it, but it made you happy. Which is why you didn’t like it. Tying your happiness to another person was a reckless thing to do. You’d seen your mother and half sister both use a man’s attention as a replacement for being happy with themselves and it made them brittle and hollow.

Thinking of what would happen the following night, oddly, you were reminded of losing your virginity. You were a “late bloomer” and were terrified you’d never be you again after. Like something would be taken from you. You fell asleep to that thought, of what you’d lose.

Then you woke, uncharacteristically early, feeling none the bit rested. No dreams. No nightmares. A few seconds of darkness and suddenly it was morning. With the extra time you had you wandered into a department store before going to the theater.

When a sales woman approached you, asking what you were looking for, you were too tired lie.

“A red dress.” You didn’t have the makeup at home to cover your marks, and gave up being worried about it.

Unfortunately, it seemed it wasn’t so odd of a sight; a woman with a black eye.

“What’s the occasion? Apology dinner?” The woman fidgeted with the hangers while looking at you.

You grimaced, “No, a murder.”

She howled, “You are a hoot! Don’t we wish, huh? Let me pull you some options.”

You put the dress on the top of the paper bag, having hidden it under your make up table the previous night. Your fingers were trembling, applying your makeup needing deep breaths and concentration.

“Ruth, can you do my lips?” You turned and handed her the brush.

“The eye looks better.” She took your chin in her hand and painted your mouth a pretty shade of red.

“Thank you.” You offered her a smile but she didn't let go, “What?”

“You ever seen a cornered raccoon? Like one got in the house and your mom boxed it into a corner with a broom?”

A nod, yes, actually, you had.

“Who’s got the broom?” She asked. You knitted your brow, not understanding. “Who’s got you in a corner? Is it Tommy?”

You took your chin back, deep breaths. “No brooms. No corners. Just rattled still from last night.” Not a lie, surprisingly. “You thought of a raccoon? Really? Is it because of the eye?”

When you took your bow for the evening and turned to escape the stage lights for the darkness of backstage, you found Tommy leaning just outside the dressing room.

“Get changed, doors unlocked upstairs. Room 504.”

Grabbing the paper bag you ran through your mental checklist. Wear red, take off your make up, hide the canvas by the bed. An odd to-do list for murder.

The theater had two floors of modest apartments above it, the owners keeping two of the open for the theater’s use. One was for the owners should they ever visit New Orleans, and the other was multi use. Storage and a crash pad for performers or Tommy when he worked late.

The bag crinkled as you hugged it, looking over the small apartment. Boxes, decorations, a modest kitchen and a bed. The bathroom was quite large, a tub and shower head. Was this where the other performers went?

Why hadn’t anyone said anything sooner? Why didn’t anyone leave yet?

Taking a second, you got to work. You opened the canvas and slid it under the bed, the smallest bit of edge sticking out for easy retrieval. Dizzy with the quickly settling reality of what you were doing, you sat on the floor for a moment. Trying to calm your breathing, you closed your eyes.

The fear of the unknown was suffocating you. There was a possibility Alastor failed and ended up hurt. Or, that he changed his mind and Tommy left you two to just hold hands on the bed for a sex-appropriate amount of time.

You patted your thighs and stood up. No time now for a panic attack. Alastor had a change of clothes in the bag, neatly folded and tied in twine. They were set onto the shelf above the closet.

And finally, yourself. Your dress was on and you stopped to wipe the make up off your face in the bathroom mirror. Still bruised, still nasty. The dress was nice though, carrying some of the weight for your battered mug. Red cotton, sailor neck and little gold buttons down the front. Flashy, brighter than the dark number you usually wore.

Would he like it? Most men looked for how a dress accentuated your curves (or hid them) but you had a feeling Alastor didn’t care so much about that.

You took your seat at the edge of the bed, thin mattress sagging from your weight.

The clock ticked, until finally the door opened and you saw something you hadn’t seen before and knew you’d never see again. Tommy and Alastor.

“Here she is. Autumn, this is Mr. Cerf. He's asked I stay in the apartment, apparently word of your attitude already spread among the upperclass.” Tommy wagged his finger at you in a playful way that was entirely out of place.

“Look at her. Pouting. Not very excited, is she?” Alastor smiled at you, softly. You felt for a second that maybe you entirely misunderstood. He looked calm, normal. Even peaceful.

“It’s always nice when they fight a little. But she won’t cause you any trouble.” Tommy patted Alastor’s back, who immediately shirked away.

“Do you like it when women try to fight you off, Tommy?”

A dry laugh, “Ya know how it is. They gotta act like they don’t like it so people still respect ‘em.”

A hum. Alastor’s smile falling entirely. A shadow settled over his face. “I see. That does make things easier.” He slipped on his short black gloves. “I always tell her she looks lovely in red. She rarely listens to me, but I’m happy to see she did tonight. It’s a special occasion.”

Once, you thought. You didn’t listen once.

Tommy nervously chuckled, looking from Alastor then to you, “What?” Alastor grabbed him by the back of the neck, pushing him to the ground and onto his knees. Hand fisted in his hair, knife pressing across his throat.

Alastor dug his knee into the small of Tommy’s back, “Tommy, I think you owe the lady an apology.” You let your feet find the edge of the canvas and slid it out with a kick. It glided across the wood and stopped where his knees met the floor.

“I’m sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry.” Tommy was staring at the waxed fabric in front of him.

You felt your eyes sting with tears, a smile breaking out against your will. “For what?”

“I—,” his eyes searched the room for an answer, your words bringing a pulse of Deja Vu, “It’s about yesterday?” He seemed to relax a little, “Come on. I said sorry. ” Looking back to Alastor. “I didn’t know she had a guy.”

Alastor yanked his head back to look him squarely in his eyes, “Wrong answer.” He pushed him down onto his stomach, “Come on Tommy. I like when my victims fight a little, too.” Sensing the taller man towering over him with the knife, Tommy scrambled onto his back to look at Alastor. Tommy started shouting, “Hey!! Someone!” But there was no one to hear him. That was the beauty of the space he always brought his dates to; it was too loud to hear anyone scream.

Funny how that works both ways.

Alastor shrugged, “Well that didn’t last long.” As Tommy backed up, trying to get traction on the slippery canvas and failing, Alastor straddled him. Tommy’s hands came up, one pushing against Alastor’s face, the other against the arm holding the knife. Alastor put both hands onto the knife’s handle, staring down into Tommy’s eyes as he inched closer to the man’s neck. “You look scared, Tommy. Are you scared?”

The other man shouted, eyes trembling as he watched the knife come down.

Alastor pushed through, metal sinking into Tommy’s throat. No pause, he withdrew and sank it again and again. Tommy’s hands fell from Alastor’s face, flailing slightly at his neck before slumping down. He was frenzied, stabbing at his chest and upward with wide eyes. You recognized those constricted pupils. They made sense in this setting. Alastor was panting, taking a second to split the skin from ear to ear in the middle of his melee.

You brought your knees to your chest, watching the crime unfold. Was this anger for you or truly for everyone? No one ever got so angry for you before, if you could be so conceited as to say this was for you. Your mouth opened and you spoke without thinking, no filter. “You look like an angry God. A jazz demon of wrath.” You smiled, the morbidity not lost on you.

Alastor stopped, frozen as he stared at you. For a second, he had forgotten you were there. He was always alone during these hobbies of his. Until recently. You looked like an angel in red and gold. Had he dyed your heavenly robes crimson? Or had you been made that way?

He dropped the knife, peeling his gloves off and stepping over Tommy’s decimated torso before kicking off his shoes.

You scooted back onto the bed and opened your arms, welcoming a strange after-kill cuddle. Your reward.

Alastor took off his bowtie, then his shirt. It took you a second, not realizing what was happening until he began to unbuckle his belt. “Now?!”

He nodded, “Yeah.”

“What the fuc— okay,” your hands flew to unclasp your stockings and roll down your panties. You mumbled to yourself, “Jesus Christ.”

As he crawled over you, warm gloveless hands tracing along your legs, hips, waist, you looked at up him with your now dilated pupils, “It’s murder? You need murder?”

He laughed, embarrassing you a little, “No it isn’t that.” His face nuzzled into your neck, “You’d go to hell? For me?”

You froze, you hadn’t really seen it like that.

“You’d damn your eternal soul,” his hips pressed into you, an unfamiliar hardness there that made you gulp, “just to spend time with me?”

How were you so heated over an erection? A dime a dozen, men practically threw them at women who offered them the slightest smile. Yet feeling him so hard against you, something you had been practically praying for, made you weak. A trembling virgin all over again.

Don’t lie, he always told you to be honest so you decided to try it out even if it made you feel at risk of harm. Your hands slid up and into his hair, gripping gently, enough to elicit a groan from him, “Well I was worried heaven wouldn’t have jazz, so… yeah.” You had to always say something a little in jest, to hide from the vulnerability of honesty, “This seemed like a better option.” The truth was, if you had to state it plainly, you would dive head first into hell in exchange for his smile. To hear his laugh. To feel his breath over your mouth. You were quite sure hell was more your scene, anyway.

“I’ll be sure to fill your afterlife with jazz every day, dear.”

How could he make hell sound so sweet?

“It’s a deal.” Fingers playing with his hair, basking in the warmth of skin on skin.

He leaned up, eyes scanning your face as he always seemed to do in these intimate moments. The feeling spreading down his chest was one wholly foreign to him, one he was struggling to put into his own words. You hadn’t run away. You opened your arms for him even still, welcoming your own damnation in exchange for… affection? Attention? Him? The reason didn’t matter, not to Alastor, and not now to his growing need. You didn’t even push him for more than he wanted to give, not yet needled him for details, secrets, sex. Could you really just be there for Alastor? Take him for what he was and what he wasn’t?

His mouth was salivating at the thought you’d give him anything. Reality was, you already had. His finger caressed the purple welt on your cheek. You were given pain and he returned it ten fold to its owner. A demon of wrath. He felt his cock twitching, underwear tented around him.

You smiled up at him, wiping a little streak of blood from his jawline, “You look quite pretty in red yourself.”

His head came to rest on your collarbone with a shaky sigh.

Had you said something wrong?

“Please, you’re already pushing me to my limit.”

Making a show of it, you zipped your mouth and pretended to toss the key. You wanted to reach down and pull off his remaining bit of clothing, to rub yourself against his manhood. But, you weren’t sure if that was something he would appreciate. You didn’t want to ruin his experience, to make him regret offering you something he so clearly didn’t need to give.

He removed his underwear, watching you unbutton your dress and pulling your arms free. Your bra, garter, and stockings were still on. Somehow he found it more scandalous than if you were completely naked.

Your breath was shaking, uneven as the excitement took control of you. There was a not totally unfounded fear you'd black out from hyperventilating.

Alastor lined himself up with your heat and pressed in, making a hard to decipher face as his brow knit up and he bit his lip. You were already so wet, not a hand or mouth needed from him. He wondered if you shared more than an acceptance of justified homicide; your body so relaxed and welcoming to him.

With a few shallow thrusts, he was fully sunk into you. You may have let out a cry. An emptiness you hadn’t clocked was suddenly gone. Was this what Zeus meant when he said the two souled humans were too powerful and tore them apart to weaken them?

Was this sex, or love? The word made you nervous. But—- if he offered it to you in both palms, you’d suffocate yourself in his hands.

He began to move in earnest, thrusting in and out slowly. You had expected the frantic moves of a horny virgin. Instead he was moving with control, hips rolling into you like waves gentle and steady where the lake met land, not slamming like many men before him.

Had it been any other dick, you’d whine and begin moving yourself against it for that needed speed. This was Alastor. Dripping pleasure into your open mouth like a drought-breaking summer shower.

You didn’t recognize your own sounds, already panting and moaning as a warmth spread from the place where his cock was sliding around inside you.

Alastor tried to keep calm. Even when his body was sensitive, he wasn’t used to the mental work needed to fight off his orgasm. Usually he had the opposite issue, struggling to stay focused enough to finish. Mind wandering to more productive chores.

But you were so wet, so accepting in body and mind. He watched your eyes close, one hand gently clawing at the blankets, the other reaching down to touch his lower stomach every time he thrust back in. For the first time in a very long time you really truly wanted to remember who was at the other end of the dick you were enjoying.

Languid moves. Swollen cockhead hitting the bottom of your walls, the top, the end, pushing still a little further.

“I’m sorry,” Alastor leaned down over you, kissing at your jawline, “For making you wait so long for so little.”

His rhythm picked up then, burying himself deeper into your sopping cunt and dragging out enough to pull back that quiver of his release.

You shook your head, lips tingling. “Nothing little here.”

He attempted a laugh, losing his breath. He wanted to last longer, to make the experience worth your while but he could feel you dripping down his balls and it weakened him with alarming efficiency. Finally the frenzied speed you witnessed earlier was turned to you, you brought your legs up, holding at his sides. “Darling I need to-,” he moaned into your ear.

“Please stay.” You clung to his neck, nails grazing at his shoulders.

Alastor’s voice was soft and sweet, a small moan and a gentle grunt. His legs spread more, trying to get every centimeter of himself into you. Hips now grinding in a small circle, but not losing any of the comfort of your warmth. You felt him still pumping that welcomed heat into you, and you tightened around him, drawing out your own moan. He hissed, “Sensitive.” Your legs were shaking like leaves in a storm, no orgasm but the pleasure nonetheless intoxicating.

The front of your brain felt like static, perhaps from the lack of oxygen as you had uncharacteristically lost your breath under Alastor.

Like losing your virginity, after the fear faded and you were able to find a moment for introspection, you found yourself larger than before. The edges of your canvas expanded out, new parts of yourself unfurling for you to explore. Nothing had been lost, only gained.

Alastor kissed at the dark circle under your eye, at the bruise of your cheek, he lifted your arm and kissed gently at the purple and blue spots there too. He had lied, and he wasn’t sure why, but maybe he’d find the will to admit it to you someday.

He had left yesterday to keep from strangling Tommy in the center of the theater, finding himself in a rage. He rarely felt anger. His killings always about retribution, about karma, about righting the scales. He needed to leave to keep from losing his composure.

He lied to you in the alley, unable to look you in the eye when he did it for fear you’d see it. You always seemed to see him with a clarity others didn’t despite such a short time together. He struggled to hide from you and it was as exciting as it was frightening. A testament to your similarities.

He hadn’t done it for everyone. No. His personal moral code fell to pieces when he saw your bloodied eye and bruised skin. He would have killed Tommy even if he had been a good man, even if you’d been the instigator. None of his murderous rules mattered. And it scared him.

(Next Part Next Week, orz)

*slang for boyfriend, often a rich one

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay /

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions

#alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader smut #hazbin hotel smut #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x you #hazbin #the radio demon #human!alastor #human alastor

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raitonsfw · 2 months

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Idk if people usually ask for this or not, but I'd love to see sfw hc of Gojo and reader first falling in love with each other (sort of like love at first sight/meeting for both of them or smthing). It doesn't matter if it's when they're teenagers or adults 💞

synopsis: a sfw requested variety piece of gojo and reader falling in love - in this case teen!gojo and reader.

warnings: gn!reader, teen!gojo, sorcerer!reader, both are high school students, geto suguru mention, love at first sight, slight talk of violence involving curses, gojo's a bit pretentious (I mean...confident?), he's got a hat on cuz he was playing baseball prior, its short mah bad.

a/n: decided to make this a two-three parter just cuz i wanted to write teenage gojo AND adult gojo... and maybe their life after they get together in a small one shot mayhaps? wc: 600ish. m.list

divider credit: @benkeibear & @firefly-graphics

•┈••✦ your teenage years were nothing short of good luck– the white haired boy staring at you from the other side of the hallway as you tried to master your cursed technique. you were stationed out in the garden area when you felt his eyes on you; practically drinking in your every move with his best friend trying to nudge him out of the way as he had stopped walking right in front of him.

•┈••✦ he just found you so beautiful, completely in awe and he nearly bounced off the walls when he found out your name from geto suguru, the best friend who was just trying to walk down the hallway behind him. apparently you were an exchange student, from one of the sister schools– trying to hone their skills through one of the prodigy students who was supposed to be assigned to you soon.

•┈••✦ you didn’t know who was going to be; you just remember being told it was someone who was destined to be one of the greatest sorcerers of all time, so it got you a bit on edge. the classroom was empty as you waited patiently for the other student and of course, who ends up stumbling late with a backwards baseball cap on?

•┈••✦ gojo satoru — the boy who had ogled at you in the hallway in between the glass separating you two from the space you would take up later in life together.

“Oh, it’s you!”

Your face immediately flushed red as Gojo pointed at you, the baseball falling to the floor as his jaw dropped. It bounced towards you and you caught it in your palm in a light bend, an awkward chuckle leaving you as you stood up to hand it back to him. “I beg your pardon?”

His usual facade — the cocky student that crowded the hallways with nothing but pride spilling from his lips — had collapsed as you approached him; his breath was literally pulled from his lungs as he took in your beauty, his words suddenly feeling like lead on his tongue. You were so much prettier up close in the dewy glow that framed you– golden dripped amongst your features and it made your eyes sparkle as you looked at him, waiting for an answer.

Suguru warned him about this– don’t make the mistake of falling in love. Or else the curses would crawl from the corners of the Earth and take what was his, bloodshed within the sharp edges of their teeth– but he was Satoru Gojo. He could handle a million curses with his stained hands if it meant he could get you to love him sincerely– or maybe just go out on a date with him?

You had noticed his eyes were brighter than you mistook through the paneled glass of the school back in the garden and it made you incredibly flustered as he basically stared you down. You knew of his clan, of everything that made him a Gojo– but you didn’t expect his eyes to be almost glowing within the midst of the breaking daylight.

Suddenly his hand wrapped around the baseball, brushing it against your own as he plucked it from you. You swore that the clouds had stopped moving outside as you looked down at your hand absentmindedly, then back to the baseball as he threw it in the air.

You made the mistake of looking back up into his eyes that held you hostage– taking in everything that he had to offer you. His smile had you almost falling to your knees, complete with a coy endeavor as he decided to dodge your empty question, his slick demeanor taunting you because he wasn’t like this seconds ago.

“Your technique needs work. But I’m here to help you.” A flash of his perfect teeth and a wink that shrouded the blue depth of the vividness, you knew right then and there you had to make him yours.

“I’m Satoru. Don’t bother calling me by my surname– it’ll be yours soon.”

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

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4ttack-ur-heart · 11 months

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Eren Hc’s: Volume Down

Pairing: Eren x female!reader

Warnings: none.

Genre: smut, fluff

Summary: After having sex, Eren tucks you in for the night and grabs his phone.

MDNI!

“Ah! Fuck, Eren.” Whimpering, you clutched onto Eren’s wrists as he pounded into you. Dirty moans and whimpers leaving your mouth with every breath.

Eren stood over you at the edge of the bed. Your upper body sprawled over the sheets, legs spread apart and Eren gripping your thighs.

“Fuck, baby.” He grunted out, long hair dangling in his face.

His thrusts became faster and you cried out from the pleasure. Sweat was starting to bead down Eren’s face and he looked down at you through half-lidded eyes.

With a brief pause, his hands gripped your calves with a vice hold and dragged you to the edge of the bed, so only your upper back remained on the cushioned surface.

The new angle gave him the perfect chance to move deeper into you. Each thrust had him bottoming out completely, making you cry out louder.

“Shh, stay quiet, princess.” Eren said, swiping a hand over his face to brush his hair back.

“Uh- it feels so- ah! Eren I can’t.” You mewled out.

A sharp slap rang throughout the room as his large palm connected with your ass. “Yes you can.”

He removed your legs from his waist and he crawled on top of you, throwing your legs over his shoulders. His forearms rested on either side of your head. “You don’t wanna wake up everyone do you?” He teased and started to rock his hips at a quickening pace.

Eren was right, you all shared an apartment with Jean, Connie, and Sasha. They’d literally kill you if you woke them up from doing the nasty.

He leaned up to your face and kissed your lips, eager to silence you. Your moans dwindling down to muffled whimpers. His hand reached up to squeeze one of your bouncing tits.

“That’s it, fuck-” Eren pulled away and his forehead rested against yours. Your orgasm was coming closer with every movement. Pressing your lips tightly together, you tried to silence your moans.

Eren bucked his hips up suddenly.

“Hmm-!”

“Quiet.” He whispered harshly against your skin and gave a hard squeeze to your boob. Eren dragged his lips across your neck and collarbone, leaving tender kisses.

The burning sensation in your stomach grew stronger.

“Eren, I’m g-gonna-”

Eren’s hand quickly moved to cover your mouth. Scrunching the sheets in between his other fist, he gritted his teeth as he felt his orgasm approaching as well. Your legs quivered over his shoulder with small tears of pleasure prickling in the corners of your eyes.

“Let go, baby. I’m right here.” He grunted out, placing sloppy kisses along your neck.

Your orgasm finally washed over you, your cries muffled from under his hand. A few stray tears dribbled down your face.

Eren quickly pulled out when he came, long ribbons of cum shooting out and landing on your stomach.

He was breathing heavily on top of you and removed his hand from your mouth. As he sat up, he moved your legs from his shoulders and sat above you, catching his breath.

“You okay?” He asked in a raspy voice while his thumb brushed the tears from your face.

You nodded and leaned into his touch, still feeling the effects of your orgasm.

“Lemme clean you up, Princess.” Eren told you and quickly disappeared into the bathroom before returning with a damp rag. He ran it over your skin, ridding it of any cum left over. The cool touch of the rag made you shiver as it dragged against your hot skin.

He gently trailed it down your thighs and threw it across the room. Your body laid still, exhausted and mind foggy.

“Come on, baby.” Eren pulled your body to the top of the bed and tucked you in under the covers, planting kisses along your face as he did so. You watched him through lazy eyes as he grabbed a stray hair tie and wrapped his hair up in a bun. He climbed in next to you and pulled you into his arms.

Silently, you laid on his chest, his arm curling under your neck after he grabbed his phone from the nightstand.

Your eyes fluttered closed, listening to the sound of Eren’s heartbeat. He held his phone with his right hand, the left stroking your cheek tenderly.

Almost falling asleep, the sudden sounds of horns and drums echoed from Eren’s phone.

An all too familiar sound.

“You are not playing clash of clans right now.”

Eren froze, eyes widening at your voice.

“You just fucked the shit out of me, and you’re playing that stupid game?”

“Armin’s on top of the leaderboard!” He quickly defended.

“This is our cuddle time.”

“I am cuddling you.”

Playfully rolling your eyes at him, you scoffed. “I need both arms, Eren.”

He let out a dramatic sigh and rolled over, facing you. You leaned your head against his chest once more as you felt his other arm rest on your shoulder, both hands still holding his phone. You chuckled softly at his reaction and pulled the blankets over you more. “I can’t believe you.”

Eren kissed your forehead and laid his head lazily against the pillow. “This better, princess?”

“Mhm. I’m just teasing though, I don’t actually mind. I like the sound it plays when you get defeated.”

“Okay, I’m muting it just cause you said that.”

—————

Tag list: @cullenswife @sad-darksoul

#aot x reader #aot imagines #aot fluff #eren jeager smut #eren yaeger x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren x fem!reader #eren x reader smut #eren jeager x reader smut #eren smut #aot smut #aot drabbles #eren headcanons

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cranberryjuice-posts · 3 months

Text

Abby Anderson head-cannons/ relationship HC’s

An: this is like my modern Hc! Only the cannon in game apocalypse version

Tw: nsfw towards the end

Humble about her title in the WLF

Goes to the gym twice a day, once in the morning once at night plus gas break days once or twice a week

High Proteine girly

Knows Damn well that the gay girls at the WLF thirst over her

COUGH lesbian COUGH

Will keep Alice after hours sometimes just because

It’s literally cannon her and manny have competitions for who do what in the apartment

Is a perfectionist

If your in a relationship she’ll take you to the gym and make you try to lift her weights

Actually really likes to cook

If she wasn’t a solider she would of became a medic like her father

Has a shitty green thumb, can not keep a plant alive if her life depended on it

Speaks Spanish to a small degree bc of manny

Once her and manny had hooked up with the same girl — NOT TOGETHER I meant like Abby hooked up with someone THAT FUCKING SCIENTIST first then manny ended up hooking up with the same woman later on down the line.

Makes the worst jokes ever but ppl laugh bc their to scared to offend her

Street smart not book smart

When fall comes around mannys dad still celebrates dia de los Muertos, being that manny and Abby are close manny invited Abby one year to celebrate with them and they made an ofrenda for Abby’s father

Relationship wise she’s actually really caring

You and Abby met most likely in the WLF, whether it’s from you helping her on an assignment, nursing her to health in the infirmary or her helping you with the animals you two just met at the WLF while helping one another

You of-course had heard of Abby multiple times but you.. this was Abby’s first time meeting or hearing abt you and shit she knew she was heads over heels in the first moment you met

Abby spent months deciding over if you were actually into her or not — one night after you two got drunk together Abby confessed and one thing let to another you two decided to plan a date

Abby freaked out like actually leg shaking anxious breath worried if she would fuck up.

She did, the day of the date she had bailed on you due to being put on an imporant assigment by Isaac

After wards she found you had a small argument with you before finally kissing you

That’s how you two ended up together

(I’m writing a fic abt this btw wait for that coming soon 😈🙏🙏🙏🙏)

She’s the type to find you souvenirs while she’s out patrolling

Will make deals with the gardeners to get you a bouquet of flowers

Every Saturday she kicks manny out and sets up the apartment so you two can have a date, doesn’t matter if your fighting and not on speaking terms you two always have the date Abby makes sure, once you Didn’t show up and Abby actually picked you up- threw you over her shoulder and carried you to the apartment

Most ppl when they write smut for Abby is alays like she’s fucking the ever living daylights out of you and calling you names but personally I don’t think Abby would do that (not that’s there’s anything wrong with those fanfics I eat that shit up everytime)

I think Abby is more of a soft lover. She takes her time and whispers sweet nothings, she’ll tell you how perfect you are and how you were blessed by the goddess of love herself

She can get a little rough though, she’s the type to while nuckles deep into you she’ll praise you for how well your doing

She’s a switch, she loves to make you feel good but also wants to be told how much you love her and her body esp her muscles

Abby’s not submissive though it’s just not her style

Went into an abandoned mall once and found a Spencer’s that’s where she managed to find a strap on

She doesn’t really like to use it since in her opinion it takes away from the experience, she doesn’t really like the fact that you want to get off on something that isn’t her

Would never let you use the strap on her tho lmao

Once Owen had drunkly said something to insult you and Abby decked him right then and there mel and manny made her apologize the next day

Insanely protective of you like I said previously she would deck Owen for just insulting you (I also don’t like Owen bc he sucks for cheating on my babe Mel)

If you two argue which is rare Abby’s stubborn but after a while she’ll force you to talk to her. She’s also gonna make you come to an agreement with her and actually communicate how you feel

GODDAMN ABBYS ASS IS FAT sorry I’m watching the remastered version of tlou2 while writing this 😭

Abby’s heavy on communication like she refuses to let one of you go to bed angry

She swears that your the most beautiful person she’s ever met

Abby will go on rants about her dad and tell you silly stories

Your the most important person to Abby and she makes that very clear— if you do patrols she refuses to let you do dangerous patrols only east already cleared areas or only if your with her so she can protect you

Deep down Abby’s scared to loose you like she lost her dad

Every night before she lets you go back to your apartment to sleep or if your sleeping over Abby will give you soft kisses and tell you how much she loves you before letting you go

That’s its 😝

#lesbian #wlw #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #the last of us fanfiction #abby headcanons #abby x reader #tlou

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bakubunny · 4 months

Text

a/n: i’ve written daddy!shota plenty of times, but i’ve never written about how it might have happened. so here’s a hc dump? there’s a lil smutty drabble at the end.

if this isn’t your kind of thing, pls just scroll and ignore.

tw: f!reader, daddy kink (obv), ddlg, mentioned age play, d/s dynamics, pet names: baby, babygirl, sweetheart, good girl

totally blindsided the first time someone whined out a shaky “daddy” underneath him in his early twenties. almost busted instantly. he knew daddy kinks were a thing, but that was something people joked about, wasn’t it?… at least that’s what he knew. he also knew he needed to hear it again, but shoved the thought away as the life of an underground hero took hold.

kayama was the one who called him out on it jokingly when she snickered and threw out an offhand, “okay, daddy,” in response to his being demanding and she earned a nasty glare. she proceeded to do that for the next week, and every time, shota had half a mind to shove her face into any surface he could find and fuck the attitude out of her. but he never did.

got absolutely shitfaced with some friends and drunkenly confided in kamaya as uncomfortable as it was. he wanted answers, wanted to know that he wasn’t some disgusting perv, and if anyone could understand, it would be her. while much more crass than he liked on the matter, she still had compassion.

thanks to kayama, shota soon finds places on the internet where real people are involved in “ddlg,” and a comfort settles in his chest knowing that what’s in his head actually exists.

there’s something that makes his body run hot seeing real people in innocent, frilly clothes, printed, childish panties, maybe an oversized pacifier between their lips, snuggling with the cutest plushies he’s ever seen…. he’s not sure what to make of that, and it takes time for him to figure it out.

by the time you meet shota a few years later, he’s figured out most of his likes and dislikes, he thinks. he’s considered or been in a d/s dynamic once or twice, but most of his “daddy kink” experience falls into “something i like to hear in the bedroom.”

he’s pretty perceptive and picked up that you might be that kind of person long before it came up. it’s in the small things - the way you get flustered with certain nicknames or a particular tone of voice, how much you enjoy it when he’s forceful or takes control, the way he can almost watch your brain short circuit with certain phrases, with how he insists on taking care of you, etc.

he’s probably not gonna tell you until you bring it up or it happens naturally; yeah, he wants it, but until you push him, he’s not the type to demand what he wants out of sex (or in general) in a romantic relationship because that takes work… and because most sex doesn’t involve romantic relationships for him.

when it does come out, there’s plenty of discussion. he’s open with you for the most part because he doesn’t see a reason not to be. no matter how hesitant you might be, he’s unfazed by anything you bring up; he’s been around the internet enough that he’s at least seen the whole spectrum - everything from “daddy is a nickname” to 24/7 dynamics heavy on age play.

the first time you let it slip and call him daddy is probably in bed. he’s just fucking you that good. your head is spinning and fuzzy at the same time. your voice is muffled by pillows or maybe you’re tucked into the crook of his neck, biting into his sweatshirt. it’s soft, hardly intelligible; in fact, you were desperately hoping he hadn’t heard you at all.

but shota’s hearing is sharp, and he knows that what just left your mouth sure as shit was not “baby.”

so he leans in, his lips grazing your ear. “what’s that, sweetheart?”

“huh? n-nothin, jus’ feels go-” you’re cut off as your jaw drops and you moan.

shota angles his hips slightly, pounding harder into the spot that had you trembling and seeing white moments ago.

“c’mon babygirl, what did you call me?”

you whine. heat rushes to your cheeks. “no, sho st-stop, please,” you plead softly.

“if you wanna fucking cum, you’re gonna repeat what you said,” he growls. “you hear me?”

another hesitant whimper as you clench around his thick cock. shota grunts from the sensation and concedes, opting for a bit of encouragement.

his tone is soft and low. “i need it. let daddy hear you, baby.”

a shudder runs over your skin, your voice more akin to a broken sob. “fuck daddy, fuc-nngh, please don’t stop.”

shota’s heavy groan hits your skin as he pants, and you keen in response.

“that’s it. that’s my good girl, shit.” he presses soft, warm kisses into your skin. “say it again.”

if you’d like to join my tag list, let me know. ♡

gremlins: @arlerts-angel @dcsiremc @darkstarlight82 @bookcluberror @neon-gothicc @zazter-den @breadandbutter33 @i-literally-cant-with-this @rinalouu @stvrfir3 @r4td0lll @emmab3mma @aria-chikage @mhadabiandhawks4eva @yazminetrahan @doumadono @dreamcastgirl99 @maddietries @jazzafayesworld @karebear5118 @unofficialmuilover @cherriluvs35 @erensslut @ruu-https @hana-yuri @keiva1000 @katsul0vr @trickster-kat @ayeohoh-blog @dinomeow @flamgosstuff @mistressreaper @angelltheninth @anonymously-ominous @amberexe2 @hisconsistency @nanamisbigassschlong @223princess @honeeslust @naughtygobbo @acenanxious @blumoonwisteria @chaos-gem @levizonlywife @nuttyunknowndetective

#this is way too real i’m so sorry #pls forgive me hori for i have sinned #need him like i need air #im blushing #embarrassed #unable to function #BYE #aizawa shouta #aizawa shota #aizawa x reader #aizawa smut #tw daddy kink #x reader #f!reader #💖#bakubunny

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zoeykallus · 5 months

Note

Hello Zoey

First , I wanted to tell you again that I love the stories you gave us , thank you , really , you're one of the few who can make me forget time when I'm reading 👌❤️

It's my first request so I'm sorry if it's a bit clumsy 😅

I had an idea , imagine that after a mission the reader is so tired that they took the first bunk they saw but it's not their's , how would the batchers react ? x)

Aloha!

Very happy to read this! 😊 Thank you so much!

There is a first time for everything. Don't worry, there is nothing clumsy about it. I think I got it. So pre Relationship, but with already growing yet unspoken feelings? At least that would be my guess. Let me see, this could be fun 😁🤭

The Bad Batch x Reader HCs - Sleepy Mix-Ups

__________

Warnings: None I guess/SFW/Fluff

__________

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

__________

Hunter

He almost threw his equipment at you. At the last moment, he sees you lying in his bunk and just manages to stop himself. Hunter is puzzled, raises his eyebrows questioningly and looks at you for a moment. A small smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. You look kind of cute lying there in his bunk. He sighs softly and looks around, his gaze falling on your actual bunk. He walks towards it, takes off his equipment, and even before he lies down in it, he smells it. The bedding and the pillow smell of your shampoo, your perfume, of you. A strange, warm shiver runs through his entire body. Hunter looks back over his shoulder to his own bunk, where you are slumbering blissfully. He knows the scent of you will keep him awake for a while, make him woozy. He feels a tingling restlessness under his skin, a silent longing for more of what reaches his nose, more of you. Hunter lies down anyway, the other bunks are occupied, and he doesn't want to wake you. He lies awake half the night and dreams of you await him in his sleep, some gentle, some wild. When he wakes up, his heart is beating fast, his pulse racing as if he has just experienced a pleasantly exciting adventure.

He grins a little stupidly to himself and flinches when he hears your voice. "Sorry, I must have gotten the wrong bunk last night because I was so tired." Hunter clears his throat, straightens up and says with a wink, "It's no problem" He looks nervous and a little shaky, you have no idea why, but as he leaves the room to use the refresher, you don't give it a second thought.

Echo

He stands in front of his bunk and looks down at you. He scratches his chin uncertainly with the scomp link. Echo doesn't really know what to do, he doesn't really want to wake you up, you look so peaceful and relaxed. The day has been hard and exhausting for all of you. He holds his hand over his mouth as he yawns. Tired, he rubs his eyes a moment later. His gaze wanders to your bunk and back again. Echo doesn't quite know whether he should just lie down. You've probably made a mistake out of tiredness, if he were to just lie down in your bed now, he would feel like an intruder. Even if the thought of lying on your pillow, which certainly smells like you, is incredibly tempting. Echo sighs softly, sits down on the floor next to his bunk where you are lying and leans against it. It's anything but cozy, but he's tired enough to fall asleep after a short time sitting up, his head resting halfway on the edge of the bunk. He wakes up when something brushes against his head. The blanket you covered yourself with. You move, it's early morning, you're still half asleep when you see Echo looking at you over the edge of the bunk.

You blink several times, a little startled. "Echo? What are you doing down there?" He straightens up a little awkwardly, his back aching a little from the position he's been sleeping in. He smirks wryly and says, "Well, you occupied my bed, so I had to improvise" You rub the sleep from your eyes and look around the bunk. Echo is right, this is not your bedding, not your bunk. Heat rises in your cheeks, and you stare at him. Others might be angry, but Echo just smiles at you. "Why didn't you just use my bunk?" you ask, confused. Echo shrugs, scratches the back of his head uncertainly and says, "Well, I don't know, I didn't want to just do it without being asked" You laugh softly. "But Echo, I climbed into your bed without being asked" Wrecker in the background, still half asleep himself, grins at you from his bunk, "Echo just wished you'd done it while he was in there"

Echo's eyes widen and his heart races. He feels he has been caught, but grumbles at his brother, "Would you please keep your comments to yourself?" When he looks at you again, you both smile shyly, barely able to meet each other's gaze.

Wrecker

He looks into his bunk, puzzled. Wrecker wasn't expecting this. A little unsettled, he scratches the back of his head and looks around. Everyone else is already asleep, or about to fall asleep. His huge figure stands bent over you next to the bunk you're lying in, his bunk. Normally you would probably have woken up just from the feeling of being watched, by his presence, but you're so wiped out today, probably not even a bomb would wake you up. Wrecker's bunk is bigger than the standardized bunks, because he himself is also bigger than the norm among soldiers, so you should have noticed that alone, but you didn't. He looks over to your bunk, the only one that is still empty and much smaller than he is used to. You mumble something in your sleep. A smile spreads across his face. He was actually toying with the idea of waking you up, but you look so cute, he can't bring himself to do it. Wrecker heads for your bunk, gets ready for bed, and squeezes himself in. When you wake up the next morning, it takes a moment, but you realize you're in the wrong bunk. "Oops," you mumble quietly, straighten up and look around. Everyone is still asleep.

Wrecker is lying in your bunk. He can't stretch out his legs, he's curled up like a fetus, his knees sticking out over the edge of the bunk. It looks uncomfortable, but also adorable. You slip out of bed and quietly walk over to him. You gently nudge him a few times until he opens his eyes. "Hey, big guy," you whisper to him. He blinks, finally grins at you and mumbles back, "Mornin' sweetheart" "Sorry about the bunk, I was so tired I didn't realize which bunk I was in," you say apologetically. Wrecker peels himself out of the too-small bunk and says with a shrug, "It's okay, it can happen" You are relieved that he takes it so lightly. He adds, "Your bunk is pretty tiny, but it smells damn good" You smile shyly and feel your cheeks heat up.

Tech

He almost sits down on you because he is so engrossed in his holopad. At the last moment, he realizes that his bunk is already occupied. Tech lowers the holopad and stares at you silently, as if he could wake you up with his gaze alone. His brow furrowed, he looks at his bunk and wonders how you could have mistaken it. The walls are scrawled with drawings and calculations he made at some point, it's hard to miss. Were you really that tired? He reaches out for you, but just above your arm, his hand stops, he holds it there uncertainly in the air for a while, undecided whether to wake you or not. Actually, this is his bunk, Tech thinks, you shouldn't sleep in it. But there's another thought, a feeling. Because you are sleeping in his bed, you are very close to him in a way. In the morning, his pillow will certainly smell of you. A part of him that he doesn't really understand at the moment, likes that, a lot. He stands there for a long time, the datapad in his hand, watching you. Echo whispers softly over the snoring of the others, "Why don't you go to their bunk, the staring is getting creepy" Tech blinks, startled, and turns to his brother.

He whispers back, "But this is my bunk" Echo sighs and says a little impatiently, "They were extremely tired, I'm sure it was an accident. Now just let them sleep and lie down in their bunk" Tech walks to your bunk, stares at it for a while, then finally lies down. It feels very different, strange, but somehow also pleasant. It smells good, although foreign, but at the same time familiar, because it smells like you. Lost in thought, he begins to paint the walls of the bunk with drawings and calculations. When he falls asleep, Tech still has the pen in his hand and your smell in his nose. It feels like he's falling asleep in your arms and all night long, Tech has a little smile on his lips. When he wakes up, it's still night, and you're already standing next to his bunk. "Sorry," you say quietly. Tech needs a moment to collect himself, the fog of sleep hasn't quite left him yet. "It's okay," he says just as softly, and peels himself out of bed to swap bunks back with you.

You lie down and look around in the semi-darkness. Tech has painted practically every free space. As you lie on your back, you look directly at the sketch of a podracer and a wild sequence of numbers that probably only he understands. You smile. Tech has slept in your bed and left something like his signature, somehow you are so happy about it that you want to kick your feet and squeak.

Crosshair

He is taking off his equipment, turns around and pauses in mid-motion. His brows draw together critically. There's someone lying in his bunk, you. He mutters quietly, "You're kidding me" He lets out an annoyed sigh and stares at you. The intensity of his gaze alone might even have woken you up under normal circumstances, but not today. His gaze finally moves to your bunk, which is empty at the moment, but then his eyes narrow to critical slits. Crosshair has no intention of being evicted from his bunk, accident or not. He grabs you and pushes you to the back of the bunk. Just as you open your eyes in shock and blink, trying to get your bearings, he joins you and takes part of the blanket, decently enough to keep you covered. Startled, you stare at him.

"But... what...?" He cocks a brow at you. "This is my bunk, if you want to sleep in it, fine, but I'm not swapping, so you better get used to me being close or crawl back into your own, kitten" he grumbles. Your heart is racing, you're confused and speechless, trying to untangle the situation in your mind. Just having him so close to you makes you nervous enough. But to be honest, you have no desire to go back to your own bunk. All you say is a quiet, "Okay" A smirk twitches briefly at the corner of his mouth, barely noticeable. Quietly and much more softly, in his smoky voice, he says as he closes his eyes, "Good night, Kitten"

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@sleepycreativewriter

@projectdreamwalker

@1vlouds

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barefoothighlander · 1 year

Text

the vow - i

summary: you’re betrothed to the future king of Guilder and a fearsome knight is assigned to protect you. medieval au

knight!simon ‘ghost’ riley x princess!reader

warnings: mdni (18+), age gap, violence, arranged marriage, infidelity

next part masterlist

a/n: @/dinalgo on tiktok posted some hc art of knight!ghost and i’m obsessed, so here’s my interpretation of that except I refuse to write in old English, also points if you catch the references I threw in

The sun shines brightly through the large window, the breeze blowing the trees outside your room, for a small moment, the world is quiet, just the songs of morning birds chirping on the balcony fill your ears, there’s no noise, no worries.

The moment is quickly ruined by the sound of your maids bustling into the room, arms full of clothing and various tools, you turn your gaze to them slowly,

“Princess, good morning”

“I’ve told you a hundred times, please use my name”

“The Prince requests that we refer to you by your title m’lady”

“Well we wouldn’t want to upset him would we” Your tone is sarcastic as you make your way over to the women, one of them fixes your bed while the other prepares a bath, setting out your clothes. You step into the warm water, soothing a rag over your muscles to clean yourself before one of the ladies takes over, dumping water over your head to wash your hair. You sit for a few minutes in the water, allowing them to work around you,

“You’re quiet this morning”

“Mm not much on my mind I’m afraid”

“You’re not excited for the festivities?”

“The feast should be nice, I don’t care much for the rest”

“Don’t talk like that” The older woman scolds, Clarice had known you since birth tending to you as a young girl, always by your side while you grew up in court, more a mother to you than your actual mother. “The Prince is handsome, a worthy adversary”

“Yes handsome, but also rude, stubborn, cold, everything I despise”

“With time you will grow to love him”

“I surely doubt that” You scoff

She furrows her eyebrows at you, “There, now let's get you dressed”

She helps you out of the bath over to the other maid, Beatrice, you had known her for less time, her position assigned to you when you came to the court after your engagement was announced. Your Father was the king of Florin, and you as his only child had the unfortunate position of being in an arranged marriage to the Prince of Guilder, the Monarchs of the country being old and weary, their son was to be crowned before the year ended and he needed a wife. Your countries had been at war for years, the violence only ceasing when your engagement had been announced, you had been in Guilder for a week now, hold up in the castle away from the public eye, today was the day that your engagement would be formally announced, a festival for your sake being held on the castle ground, thousands of people crammed inside the grounds all trying to get a look at you and the Prince, the idea made your stomach turn.

Your early years had been spent wandering the grounds of your families castle, the tall stone walls becoming a home after the years you spent in them, you felt sick for your old life, your freedom, you could run around the gardens, ride the horses whenever you wanted back home, but here, every action of yours was watched, criticized, you were told how to look, where to be and when, every part of your life was in the control of the Prince and your Father, you hated it.

You had gotten dressed, your breaths feeling tight due to the corset you wore, another freedom you yearned for was being able to wear clothing of your choosing, now everything was blue and green, the colours of Guilder, always tight on your chest to emphasize your figure, your hair was done up in a knot, a few loose strands falling to tickle your neck and cheeks.

“Beautiful” Clarice says, a soft smile on her face

“I look like a peacock”

“You do not, you’ve grown into such a beautiful woman, my little princess” Her hand is soft on your cheek, you smile at the tender action, always finding comfort in her. “Now, we must go, you’re needed downstairs”

You struggle to take a deep breath, silently cursing the fabric binding your chest as you make your way through the wide halls, they were lined with various adornments, some tapestries, a few swords hung beside scattered candles, it felt cold here, no comfort in the walls, everything was jagged and silver.

“Now, the Prince will introduce you, then the jousting will begin”

“Is anyone from Florin going to be in the duels?”

“I’m not sure my dear, there’s plenty of men from across the countries”

You nod, looping your arms through hers as you walk side by side, you stand at the large opening that leads out to the balcony above the castle grounds, everything is decorated in the countries colours, it’s so formal, you feel like a stranger in your new home, everything so similar yet so different, you had no family here, no friends aside from Clarice, you give her a soft smile before unhooking your arm, waiting for the Prince to announce you before walking out.

You step out onto the balcony, the warm sun hitting your skin, there’s a symphony of clapping and whistling, you look down at hundreds of people, all staring back at you, you wave to them,

“Sit down” The Prince speaks, you turn to him, his face is stoic, there’s no softness in his features, you abide, sitting down in the tall chair next to him. They begin the jousts, two by two the men file out, setting up on their horses, the Prince turns to you with every new competitor, explaining who they were and where they were from, including his personal opinion on the men.

You see a tall man enter the field, his armour pure black, his horse the same, he’s larger than the rest of the competitors, his helmet shaped like a skull, his chest plate donning an emblem you didn’t recognize.

“Who’s that one”

The Prince leans over the balcony to get a better look, eyes squinting in an effort to make out the symbol,

“I’m not sure, must be some farmboy playing make belief”

You respond with a small oh, the knight approaches the balcony, his hand reaching to remove his helmet, the light hits his face, streaking colours through his blonde hair, you can make out a few scars on his face, even from your distance you can see the deep colour of his eyes, his face is firm staring up at you, you’re frozen in your spot, staring back at him, he raises his lance toward you, without thinking you reach behind you, grabbing a ring of flowers held together by a ribbon, and throwing it onto his lance, it falls to the base, the flowers close enough that he could smell their aroma, he says nothing, not even a nod, he simply puts his helmet back on and moves to mount his horse.

You step back, your eyes stuck on him as you return to your seat,

“What was that?”

“Sorry?”

“You gave him your favour”

“Thought the farmboy could use some luck against Ser Michael”

“Ah, yes” The Prince goes on to ramble about the accomplishments of the opponent, his success in battle, how much he admired his bravery, but you aren’t listening, your focus completely taken by the shadowy knight galloping toward the centre of the pit, his lance raised as he thrusts it into his opponent, throwing him off his horse. The crowd erupts in cheers, you swallow thickly as you watch him get off his horse, moving toward you, he kneels in front of you,

“Simon Riley your highness”

“Where do you hail from Ser?” The Prince stands, your eyes are focused on him as he bows his head

“The North, but I am no Ser”

“You’re not a knight? You wear the armour of a knight”

“The armour belonged to my father”

“And where is he, your father?”

“Dead 10 years ago your highness”

“And tell me, why have you come”

“I come to prove my honour, to serve you”

“Very well, you may go”

You watch a few more rounds of jousting, growing bored with the same thing happening, they announce the final duel before urging the groups to attend the feast, you make your way down from the balcony, towards the high tables in the gardens, your eyes roaming over the groups of people, struggling to find a familiar face in the crowd.

“So what did you think?” The Prince asks

“About what?”

“The jousting” He scoffs

“They were all quite good”

“What about that Simon Riley”

You whip your head towards him, “I thought little of him, why?”

“Well he was rather large don’t you think, I might add him to my guard”

“Add him to mine” You speak before thinking

“Why would I add him to yours”

“I have no guard, no one to protect me”

“Well, I’ll arrange for you to choose a guard tomorrow then, perhaps then you’ll finally feel at ease here”

You nod your head, turning quickly from him, you greet the King and Queen, making small conversation about the state of the castle, the blooming bouquets of blue poppies that adorned the various pillars, your eyes are drawn to Simon, his dark appearance a stark contrast to the brightly dressed patrons that mingle around the grounds, you watch him disappear around a corner, it’s not until the Queen calls your name that you realize you had been staring at him the whole time.

“Sorry your majesty, my brain has been a fuzz all week, what did you ask?”

“That’s alright dear, with all the excitement I can hardly focus myself, I was just wondering if you had decided on a dress for the wedding”

“Oh, not yet, you’ve brought so many beautiful options I haven’t been able to decide”

“I understand, we have the best dressmakers here, but do make time to choose, we wouldn't want to delay such an important decision”

“Of course”

She smiles at you, looping her arm through her husbands as they walk on, you stand there, overwhelmed by the sights and sounds of everything happening around you, you had only a week until you were to be wed and you had every decision already made for you, your fiancee and his mother picking out every detail of the wedding down to what bouquet you’d be carrying, they had decided that you would hold a large grouping of the blue poppies you see everywhere, the royal flower of Guilder, no part of the wedding made notice of your heritage, all traces of Florin erased from the ceremony, you were to be wed according to Guilder law rather than the customs of your home.

They had arranged for your father to attend but no one else, claiming that there simply wasn’t space for extra people to join, they had cut you off from your old life completely, forcing you to conform to their way of life, moulding you into the perfect Queen, obedient and meek, you despised it, you longed for your freedom from the confines of the castle.

When the feast ended and you had spoken to all the nobility you needed to, you were escorted back to your quarters, the silence of the large stone walls consuming you once again, no birds singing, no rushing of maids, just you and the night sky. It was late, the dark consuming the outer land in a blanket of shadows as you stood on your balcony looking over the moonlit gardens, that was the only good thing about your new home, a perfect view of the perfect gardens, every shrub perfectly manicured, bending and winding in a maze that led to a small fountain in the centre, each flower a shade of green and blue. Truth be told you didn’t think much of the colours before moving but now, you despised them, every shade a sharp reminder of how you didn’t belong, the colours mocked you as they invaded your eyesight, you huffed a breath to yourself, eyeing the grounds below for any sign of guards.

There was one roaming the grounds, you thought you could easily avoid detection if you were quick, you grab your robe wrapping yourself in it, a small attempt to keep yourself warm from the cool air of the night as you creep towards your door. They were heavy, large slabs of wood, you open in slowly to avoid any creaks, slipping through the opening and rushing down the hallway, there was a small door meant for staff that you entered, making your way down the thin stairs and peering through the door outside, the guard has his back turned, you inch the door open and slide through, quickly moving towards the gardens. You walk under a large arch of shrubs, the smell of the flowers invading your senses, bushes of wolfsbane, oleander and wisteria fill the gardens, all beautiful but deadly, a worthy metaphor for your new home, you roam the isles of the garden, lost in the hidden openings and similar corners.

After a few minutes, you find yourself in the middle, a tall fountain in front of you, it’s stunning, the intricate details of the stone swirling as the water crashes into the pool, you sit in the grass, listening to the sound, letting it relax you, finally a break from the quiet that wasn’t the screaming of citizens, or the demeaning words of your future mother-in-law. You close your eyes, the grass tickles your skin as you relax, breathing in the fresh air, you hear a small rustle in the grass, breaking you from your state, you turn your ear to the noise, calling out quietly to see if anyone was there. There was no reason for anyone to be in the gardens at this hour, in fact, the Prince practically forbade it, you stand slowly, following the rustling noise, peeking around a corner you see a quick movement turning the corner, moving faster you approach it, your heartbeat heavy as you near, you turn to find the culprit and let out a small gasp, a small white rabbit was sat, chewing on some shrubs, you kneel down extending your hand towards it.

“Come here little guy, these gardens aren’t safe for you” It hops toward you, nearly touching your hand before it turns on its heel and sprints away, you furrow your brows in confusion,

“They aren’t safe for you either Princess”

Your breath stops, you feel the looming figure behind you as you slowly stand, you heartbeat now thrumming in your ears, you turn to face him, he almost melts into the darkness of the garden, his armour pitch black,

“You should get back inside”

Goosebumps cover your skin, your breaths shallow as you stare at him, you back up slowly, turning around to move through the gardens, you turn around the corners, trying to find your way out, your feet carry you through the grass, you follow the lights inside the windows, trying to get out. You rush towards the exit, eyes focused on the light as you collide with the guard, stumbling into him,

“I’m sorry”

“Princess? What are you doing outside?”

“I just needed some air” Your breathes are shaky as he scans your face,

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, completely, just need to go back inside I think the air was a little too cold”

“Well hurry in then” He nods, stepping aside to let you pass, you move past him hastily, opening the doors inside you make your way back up the stairs, you enter your room and release a breath, rushing towards your balcony to try and catch a glimpse of him. Your eyes scan the gardens, the night doing its job of concealing anything within the green walls, you see nothing, no movement anywhere, it's like he wasn’t even there, you think you imagined him, his deep voice ringing in your ears as you lay in your bed.

The next morning was calm, you woke early to the sound of your maids making their way inside, Clarice helping you dress and doing your hair while Beatrice makes your bed, tidying the room.

“Exciting day today” Clarice says

“What do you mean?”

“The Prince has arranged for you to pick a guard, I suppose he fears a possible war and wants you safe”

You nod at her, “I don’t believe the Prince fears for my safety as much as you do” you whisper, she shushes you, her eyes darting to Beatrice to make sure she didn’t hear, “Bite your tongue child”. You let out a small giggle, amused by how concerned she is, allowing her to finish your hair before you make your way to the throne room, you enter through the massive doors to a room of scattered men, all donning their house armour, you look around and see no sight of the dark knight. You stand atop the small set of stairs, looking down at the men as they announce themselves one by one, giving you their names and listing all their accomplishments, victories in battle, how they were undefeated in jousting in their home. You’re bored after an hour of their bragging, your mind oblivious to the fact that you have to choose one of them to be around you for hours at a time, an older man stands to speak but is interrupted by the sound of the doors opening, everyone turns their heads at the sound, their eyes widening at the sight of the tall man clad in black, he keeps his helmet on as he enters, only removing it to kneel before you.

“Simon Riley m’lady”

“Not Ser?”

“I beg your pardon”

“Everyone else here is a knight, why are you not?”

“I’m the last remaining member of my house m’lady, we’re a forgotten house”

“I expect my guard to be knighted”

“I may not hold a title Princess, but I assure you I would lay my life down for you” He turns his head to look at you as he speaks, and you release a strained breath,

“You may all leave” You address the room, Simon stands, “You stay” You look to him and he nods, the room is consumed in silence as the other men exit, leaving you alone with him, “Why were you in the gardens last night?”

“I needed to clear my head”

“It’s forbidden to be on castle grounds after dark”

“And yet you were there” He looks up to you, you swallow a thick gulp.

“You’ll be assigned to me, keep me safe”

“Thank you, Princess” He bows his head,

“And don’t wear your helmet inside, it’s unnerving”

He fights the smile that creeps up on his lips as you turn away from him, exiting through the back of the room, you make your way to the Prince's quarters, his guards stand outside the door.

“Princess” They greet you

“Hello, I need to speak to the Prince”

They look to each other and back to you, “He’s busy I’m afraid”

“It’s a matter of staff” You try to push past them but they stop you, you furrow your brow at them, one takes a moment, knocking on the door.

“My Prince, the Princess wishes to speak with you” He shouts through the door, you hear shuffling through the door, the Prince mumbling something before he steps to the door, opening it, he’s half-dressed, his hair a mess, you watch him peer backwards, mouthing something and it all clicks in your head, you feel your chest tighten.

“What did you need my love” The name feels like a stab to your chest,

“I’ve chosen my guard, Simon”

“Simon?”

“The black knight from the feast” You watch the gears spin in his mind

“Yes very well” He turns away,

“He needs to be knighted”

He sighs, “He holds no title?”

“Not yet no”

“Fine, inform him that he should be in the throne room by nightfall, I shall do it then”

Before you can respond he closes the door, the shuffling and giggles behind the door resuming, you spare a polite smile to the guards, turning away and making your way to your quarters.

You sit at the small table in your room, your eyes watching through the window as people wander the grounds, you call for Clarice who meets your side in an instant,

“Please inform my guard he is to be in the throne room after dinner”

“Very well Princess” She smiles at you before leaving, you sit quietly in your room, daydreaming about being outside in the fields, exploring the ponds around the castle grounds, being anywhere but here. The time passes quickly, a servant knocks on your door to inform you that dinner was prepared, you make your way down to the dining hall, the air of the room feeling colder as you sit down, dinners were the same, just you, the Prince and the Queen, the King being in poor health was kept in his room, only brought out for special occasions. You sit and eat, picking at the meal in front of you as the two of them discuss wedding preparations like you aren’t there, they don’t ask for your input, deciding on things alone, after a few minutes you stand to excuse yourself,

“You’re done eating?”

You stop in your tracks, “Not particularly hungry this evening”

“Well, I should see you in a few moments in the throne room then,” He says, turning back to his conversation, disregarding you.

You make your way to the large room, the walls high, large windows separating the spaces in them, you stare at the ceiling, it’s ridiculously tall, with large chandeliers hanging from the crossing beams, there are pictures hanging on the wall, you stride past them not bothering to spare them a glance as you hear the doors open, The Prince walks in beside his own guard, Simon trailing behind them, your gaze softens as you look at him, he kneels in front of the Prince, removing his helmet, you’re close enough now that you can properly make out his features, the sharp line of his jaw, the scar that crosses through his eyebrow, and his eyes, dark and rich, his hair falling slightly across his forehead as he bows his head. The Prince declares a few words, taking a sword from his guard and tapping it onto Simon's shoulders, the knight stands to his height, he towers over the Prince, having to look down to meet his eyes, he swears a few words, giving his oath to the Prince before everything is settled. The Prince nods, stepping away and leaving the room, Simon turns to you,

“Ser Simon” You nod

“Princess”

You stand there looking at him, words unable to make their way from your lips, you simply turn and leave, his eyes following you as you exit making your way up to your room, he trails behind you, his helmet under his arm as you reach your door, he stands with his back to the wall, his eyes focusing around the halls as you enter your room. You step in and close the door, your back falling against the hard wood as you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding, bracing yourself against the door, you take a few seconds to gather your thoughts before moving further into the room, stripping yourself of your dress to put on more comfortable clothes, feeling like you could properly inhale without the burden of a corset.

You spend an hour alone in your room, pacing around trying to occupy your mind, the pale walls doing little to aid your efforts, you think to yourself for a minute, your legs carry you across the rooms towards your door where you stand for a moment, collecting yourself before opening it,

“Princess, is there a problem?” He asks

You shake your head, you’re entranced by his gaze, “Where is your family Ser?”

“My family?”

“You come here holding no title, no accomplishments, who are you?”

“I’m no one”

“Nobody is no one”

He smiles slightly, his eyes crinkling, “I come from England Princess, my family owned a farm before the war, and now I am here”

“And your family, what of them”

“Dead m’lady”

Your face drops, your heart thumps with empathy, “I apologize for my words, I had no idea”

“How could you have”

“Yes well, how did you come to be in the country?”

“I’m not sure, I left home one day and just kept going until I arrived in the countryside”

“And you chose to stay here?”

“It’s beautiful here”

“It seems that way”

“Seems?”

You stumble over your own words, careful to not give yourself away, “I simply mean it’s not my home”

“You’re not from here”

“No, I come from Florin”

“I have never been”

“Well I hope you get to see it one day, it’s beautiful, tall cliffs with waterfalls, every part of it breathtaking”

He watches you speak with deep interest, hanging on to every word that falls from your lips, “You miss it?”

“More and more every day” You admit

“And you can’t go home”

“Not if I am to be Queen” Your smile fades

He nods, you turn your gaze to him, oblivious to the fact that he’s been staring at you the entire time, his eyes memorizing every feature of your face, every smile line and ridge, you turn from him quickly, nervous under his stare.

“It’s late Princess, you should be in bed”

You turn back to him, a polite smile on your face as you walk back into your room, your hand lingers on the doorknob for a moment, wishing you could keep talking to him. You lay in your bed wide awake, the words exchanged with Simon the first conversation you’d had that didn’t concern the details of your marriage, he was the first person to ask about your feelings, your home, you figured he must’ve just been being polite, too nervous about getting sent away to say anything different to you.

Simon stands guard over your room while you sleep, turning away any guard who tried to take his position, intent on ensuring your safety within the confines of your room.

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