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evilminji · 2 days

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Okay, so maybe it's just me? Projecting my new Tea Phase?

Cause for med reasons, no more energy drinks, only Teeeeeeaaaaa~☆

But honestly? Now that I am an adult and ACTUALLY KNOW HOW TO MAKE IT? Really digging it! Am enjoying the Teas. Mmmmmmm~ leaf broth. I like the fruity ones.

So! IMAGINE~☆ If you will:

Danny. 14 and his parents are LOUD AS FUCK (CRASH BANG SMASH BANG WHIIII-) dispite it being, once again, a school night. This has been going one For Years. That STUPID fucking machine. All God damned hours. Crashes and bangs and powertools. Explosions.

When will it ever end!

He's... he's honestly used it.

Unknowingly? This is is a skill that will come in handy later. Living and functioning while sleep deprived. Healthy? Fuck no. But it's USEFUL. He IS the ten year old downing Monster drinks in the parking lot before school.

It makes him a jittery weirdo. Twitchy. Too much caffeine, not enough sleep, his parents either blew up or TOOK APART the washing machine AGAIN. He... he never stood a chance. It's a miracle the indoor plumbing hasn't been compromised yet... AGAIN.

His blood is more sugar, caffeine, and guarana or whatever those other things in the can are, then actual human blood. He doesn't CARE. He just needs too get decent grades, graduate, and become an astronaut. It's... it's FINE. This is normal. They're FINE.

(If they weren't... someone would have noticed, right? Would have DONE something. Cared. So it HAS to be fine. His family's just weird. It's FINE.)

But THEN...

The Accident.

And his biology CHANGES. Green goo, wrapped vicious and loving, around his very DNA. Like Kintsugi of the body and soul. In green, Green, GREEN. It... it's a lot. Everything changing all at once. Maybe that's why it takes him so long to notice.

Why he thinks "oh, I'm just tired cause I'm running more then usual. Fighting and flying. Doing ghost stuff."

When... when honestly? Some part of him always kinda KNEW. From the very moment he stumbled out of the portal. The aftershocks. The pain. Sam and Tucker crying, scrambling to help him up the stairs. Sam tearing her bag apart looking for her cramps medicine. Because... because pain medication is pain medication.

"It's gonna be okay, Danny. Please. Please god, just take it! I promise it's gonna be okay!"

How do you look your panicked, crying, strongest-person-you-know best friend in the eyes and tell her... you can FEEL it dissolving in your throat. Like the pills were dumped in a human shaped pot of acid. That... that the pain isn't changing... and you... you don't think it's going too.

When you're scared. Might be dying. And you can already tell they think it's their fault. W... when you're all just KIDS. And all you can think is... you can let them know how bad... how bad it hurts...

They'd never be able to live with that knowledge.

Yeah. Yeah, Sam. Thanks. T... The pills helped a lot. He feels better. You really saved the day. He lo... loves you guys so much.

...

.....

He thinks about that moment A LOT. About how much he realized and knew, before the denial kicked in. Before he got so... Tired. Fresh of all that energy. And? You'd think he realize. The mood swings. The irritability. The headaches that disappear the SECOND he goes ghost. That he's in caffeine withdrawal. But? Nope.

He kinda blames the constant ghost attacks for distracting him.

But see... Sam? Doesn't drink tea. Goes against her diet. Tucker was where he GOT his illicit borderline illegal energy drinks. And his sister? Big on flavored sparkling waters. Which are gross to him.

His PARENTS drink a thick tar they insist is coffee. It might be liquid fudge. Zone knows its nearly the same consistency. It's horrifying. No thanks, he wants to LIVE.

It's? Ironically? Mr. Lancer and his constant detentions, that help Danny realize somethings up. Because Mr. Lancer shares. If he makes a cup for himself, he'll make one for you. It's how he was raised. And, yeah, the after school detentions? Those were herbal blends. No caffeine.

But...

But they tasted nice. Were warm. The classroom was quiet and as frustrating as it was? The tea itself? Was always... the one exception to how shit the situation was. So Danny finally broke down and asked about it. Learned Mr. Lancer knew a? Surprisingly LOT about tea. Huh.

Then one day he gets SATURDAY detention. Oh joy!

Bright and early. One of the few times he could be trying, desperately, to be sleeping through his parents cacophony. Catching up on his desperately needed Zzz's. Here he is... getting a handed a new cup of different tea?

Breakfast blend? And a bagel..

N...none hostile breakfast? A quiet space to catch up on his homework? No Dash? Just... just a quiet classroom, some tea, and the sounds on a peaceful morning outside?

......oh.

It's the best time he's had in school in... God, in YEARS. He gets so MUCH done. For once can concentrate. And? Actually, now that he thinks about it? Feels... awake? Or at the very least, not as sleepy. And being a Fenton, whom to the LAST are a genius if eccentric family, it's pretty damn easy to put two and two together.

Tea.

He felt more awake after having Lancer's breakfast blend tea.

He obviously asks about it. Then, after detention is done. Calm packs up. Goes home. Drops his back in his room. Goes ghost. And SHOOTS for the Far Frozen with his phone and an energy drink. Because clearly he's missing something and it's time to ask.

The good doctors of the Frozen are... gently horrified. Clawed hands steeples infront of their mouths as they try to tactfully figure out how to word "Great One, WHAT THE FUCK!?!? Why would you DO THIS TO YOURSELF!?" Because that... is not professional. Breathe. In, out, in, out. We can do this.

They get the most patient and restrained of their elders to... CALMLY, very VERY Calmly, ask some medical questions. Listen. Without judgements! Because they are medical professionals. Who do NOT want to scream, forever, into the void. Certainly not. So Calm! (They are going to BURN THAT CAN IN-)

Which! Huh. Yeah, that explains the constant exhaustion. He was poisoning himself. Kinda. Not so much the GHOST but the human half. Putting to much strain and too much trace chemicals, minerals, and buckets of sugar. General "mmmm :/ Don't Like THAT ™" energy from the Goo causing it too try and constantly burning it all out of existence. Endlessly.

The more he put in, the more there was to burn. The more there was to burn, the more tired he became. The more tired he became... well, the more he put in. It was a slowly lethal starvation cycle. Big Yikes.

The TEA on the other hand? Those are leaves. The good recognizes leaves and water. Other various plants, dried or otherwise. It ignores them as "fine" until they reach a "problematic" threshold, apparently? So... *blank look at the doctor*

*sighs in medical professional*

Tea? Good. Satan Can of Halfa Poison? Bad. Please drink tea.

👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻

And it's like MAGIC. He's suddenly BACK, baby! Ha ha ha! Skulker you fuckin THOUGHT?! Oh it's 2am? Well SUPRISE bitch! He's bright eyed and bushy tailed! His grades are up AND he's beating you like a drum! He has ice breakers for old people discussions now!! The local Tea Shops have NEVER been so well protected.

He actually manages to graduate with not just decent grades? But GOOD ones.

And the second. The INSTANT. He is legally his own man? Has his important paperwork squirrelled away and the go bags safely WELL outside of Amity. It's time. He meets OUTSIDE the house, because he's not an idiot. He's been practicing his Clones and has them ready to grab his parents so he can get out of there alive. Jazz is on video call from Star city.

His parents... suspected. Not at first, but as goofy as they are? They aren't ACTUALLY idiots. They've been watching, going over old research. Trying, failing, to get in touch with the League to have THEIR team test their research. Peer review is critical after all. They... they had been so certain. Are still somewhat certain.

But their research doesn't exactly ACCOUNT for this "halfa" phenomenon. So, there is a very real chance they are missing something. The one thing the DO know? Danny is their son. Stuck in some eternal mortally wounded state or not, he is a hero. And they weren't there for him.

They can't change their beliefs on a dime. But they've clearly missed a great deal. And refuse to fall to academic bias. The very thing that got them LAUGHED AT for decades. Mocked and belittled. This is their life's work. By God they WILL find out the truth.

It's? Better then he could have hoped. Not perfect. But better.

He helps set up safeties and a security check point at the portal. Both sides. He's kinda a big deal these days, mom, dad. Ghost scientists eager to work with them. A whole TEAM under their command. It certain endears ghosts to them a whole lot more. Then?

Copy of the blue prints, go bag turned into normal bags, Danny's off to college.

Bounces from major to major. Nothing really capturing his interest. As he aged, he's need less sleep. Gotten stronger. Grown into his father's height and grandfathers build. Tucker keeps calling him a dorito. Danny retaliates with Ancient Egyptian Cyber/Pharoah Twink allegations. According to SAM they are both dumbasses.

She's not WRONG... but hey D:<

Eventually? A really niche botany seminar run by Pamela Isely catches the attention of Tucker, who forwards it to him n Sam. Nice ™. It's being held in her Murder Park! Cool! Obviously they have to go. So off to Gotham they go. And? When they get there? Sam is APPALLED.

She may HATE landlords as much as the next activist.... but LOOK at all these run down, foreclosed, rotting buildings! Beautiful gothic infrastructure! Those could be businesses or homes! Danny, busy with signing them up, makes the mistake of tuning her out as she rants in fury. She does this some times. Needs to vent. Uh huh, you're very right. You should contact somebody. I agree. Mmmhmmm.

Hey, Sam, Ms. Isely needs your-....

Sam?

Oh FUCK ™.

By the time the Seminar come around? Sam has violently kicked in the door of more then a feel reality offices. Owns QUITE a few buildings. Danny is sweating. She... she's doing the THING again. The "gimme your Ghost Crew, I KNOW you have a highly specific Ghost Crew, don't you DARE lie to me or I take your knee caps, Danny" stare.

>.> Sam you can't keep doin- *stare intensifies* Yes Ma'am. *Pulls out Fenton phone* and so? Here come the renovation crew. The ONLY honest building Crew in all of Gotham. They cut no corners. Can't be threatened. Gangs, villians, and even local government office try to arrange... accidents on the build sites.

Nothing. Nada. In fact, it turns out more dangerous for THEM then this crew of outsiders!

Wtf!

Then? After these two College age weirdos finish Poison Fuckin Ivys HIGHLY SUSPECT biology seminar? Manson fucks off to who knows where! Leaving what HAS to be "the muscle" behind. Cause I mean? Look, at the guy! He's huge! And what does he do?

Goes building to building. Rents them out to low income families. Honest, hard working shop keepers. And? Eventually decides to settle smack dab in the middle of Gotham, in the shadow of Wayne fuckin tower, spitting distance from the Space museum..... and open? A tea shop? The FUCK?

"The Zone".

In a weird shade of green. With little ghosts, wearing crowns, because and I quote "it's funny"? Certainly crazy enough for Gotham. But like, it's loud as FUCK here. Crowded. There are gas attacks and shit. It'll never las-....

It stays untouched for MONTHS.

Sometimes being the ONLY building near it to be untouched. Gas NEVER getting in. The damn place a BUNKER. And? Despite looking like it's two floors? It's three. You enter and your actually on the second floor. No one's even sure where the fuck the guy LIVES, since he never seems to leave.

Not only THAT. But it... it's like one of those old school apothecaries. Big ol bank of drawers. Guy'll mix up your blend for you right as you watch. Tea nuts are actually risking COMING to Gotham to try his stuff. Writing articles. Apparently he has some pretty rare shit in those drawers.

Some UNKNOWN shit, according to one guy on ViewTube.

There's this whole debate on if it's Ultra Super Rare or that means it's just super cheap knock off crap. Some of them he won't make for people, even if they ask. There's a rumor it's for Meta's with specific diets. Or alien blends. But no one can verify that. Cause like?

Anyone who tries to cause trouble?

Can't fucking FIND the place. And if you're already inside? You just... drop. Stone cold unconscious. It's definitely magic but no one knows if it's HIS or Manson's? You know? He won't talk. Gets annoyed when harrased.

Which off course!

Leaves Only ONE gentleman for the job. An elite special forces trained expert. Polite, dignified, enjoyer of fine Teas. Alfred "Why do you chucklefucks keep forgetting I was in the Queens Service and a Registered Badass" Pennyworth.

After all! He DOES have the days shopping to do.

@babbling-babull @the-witchhunter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @lolottes

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #Tea Shop of Mysteries AU #alfred pennyworth

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azen13 · 3 days

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CW: Yandere Themes Thinking abt Yandere!Neuvillette with a Sovereign!S/O who seeks asylum in Fontaine after years of hiding in Teyvat from the Fatui, Celestia, etc...

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The moment you enter the Palais Mermonia, Neuvillette feels your presence; like when the sun peaks through a blanket of clouds on an overcast day, something heavy falls off from his soul, like a curtain opening. His office doors open and you find yourself face-to-face with the only being like you in this land.

Of course Neuvillette can't just drop any of his appointments or cases, so he asks you empathetically to wait out in the lobby until his lunch break. Before he returns to his office, he asks one of the Melusines working to keep an eye on you and to make sure you don't get hurt or run off. His fingers twitch as he takes one last look at you, his eyes searching deep into your soul.

When he's finally finished with all his paperwork and met with several people, he ushers you in his office, his face imperceptible. Beneath his human facade, there are currents of emotions pushing against one another like boiling water: protectiveness, anxiety, fear, jubilance, relief. Neuvillette asks you if you want something to eat. Some water from Monstadt to go along with it, maybe?

He lets you tell your story and listens patiently. His expression, perfected over the course of hundreds of thousands of trials, stays perfectly intact, but the tides of his heart lurch as you tell him about all the atrocities committed to you.

The waters roar, and the dragon stirs.

When you ask for asylum and protection he is quick to agree. Very quick. Almost immediately he promises to set you up with a comfortable apartment, a simple job at the Palais organizing papers, some Mora to help you buy clothes, and whatever else you might need. He has to return to work, unfortunately. But he asks again if you can stay in the Palais Mermonia until he is done with work—or at least his official work—for the night.

Your agreement is the most beautiful sound he has ever heard.

The rest of the day, Neuvillette cannot think. There is an permanent indentation in his mind now from that first feeling of sensing your presence. The feelings duplicate themselves in his mind until he can hardly grasp his pen. Words on pages turn into soupy mush.

For the first time in centuries, Neuvillette does not stay late to continue working. When the clock strikes seven, he has already neatly organized the work he has to get done on his desk to pick up later. Briefly, his expression eases, thaws in a way, the corners of his lips slightly upturned, a hint of fondness finding its way into his iridescent eyes.

Unfortunately, he says, he can't organize all of the papers and contact all of the people needed right now to get you what he promised. However, he can offer you a guest room in his home. Your agreeance is so beautiful, your smile radiant like the sun and eyes shining like stars. He wants to see you smile. He likes it. Loves it, even.

As the two of you walk through the streets of Fontaine, the energy of the city begins winding down; there are still people clustered at cafes and musicians spouting tunes off into the evening summer air, but already, stars have begun to appear in the dazzling dusk sky.

You say you love the stars. Neuvillette listens with rapt attention, as though he is studying for the most important test of his life. He is an Akademiya scholar, and his Darshan is the study of you.

You are his star.

After the walk home, Neuvillette finds himself blessed by your expression when you gaze into the foyer of his house. It's nothing extraordinary like the opulence of the nobility, but it is upper-class; a quiet luxury permeates through every part of the home, from the banister carved with patterns of the sea to the walls painted a rich, deep blue.

He holds in a laugh when you see a potted plant and gaze at it like it is a miracle of life. Perhaps it is, with its delicate petals and fragrant scent. How—he wonders as he guides you to the guest room, nearly reaching to put his hand on the small of your back before deciding against it—could it survive this long? How did it not get ripped apart or trampled on by beasts and humans alike? The thought lingers in the back of his mind like the last traces of sunlight beaming in through the windows.

Neuvillette files it away.

When he goes to bed, he cannot sleep. Part of him is worried that there is something genuinely wrong with him, that he should seek medical attention. But that's impossible. And he knows it. It is an easy, dismissive lie; thin like ice in late winter. Once he smashes through it, he plunges into something lethal.

Is it wrong, Neuvillette thinks, that he wishes to protect you?

He should rephrase that. It is wrong that he wishes to keep you tucked away somewhere where those beasts will never hurt you again?

He holds a court case in his mind, you versus him. He cards through the evidence. The laws. He goes on a hunt in his archives for a tome on the law when he needs clarification.

When he composes a mental opinion to this rhetorical case, it is after several hours of back-and-forths in his head. But he knows now.

You are a special case, Neuvillette thinks. Cursed by Celestia even, he would say, with how much you have gone through, escaping the clutches of the Fatui and their Harbingers, and countless other evils. He can trace the scars on your hands knowing there are thousands of tragedies written in invisible ink over them. Could he be what decodes those messages? He can. He will.

To put it more plainly, you don't fall under the standard limits of jurisdiction of Fontaine's law. You are a Sovereign, not a citizen of Fontaine, and in addition, you fall under the qualifications of a person in extreme danger. Your very existence is endangered, the elusive essence of your being alluring to the foulest forces in Teyvat. And since the Archon of your element has not rescinded their powers, you are so very vulnerable.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Time passes strangely after that night. The god of time has always been a strange, fickle thing in an immortal being like Neuvillette's eyes, but after meeting you, it has only become more warped.

You go out to cafes together. Neuvillette buys you a croissant. You ask him what lavender tastes like. He describes it the best he can, and you buy a lavender latte. You and him share easy, pleasant conversation on a small streetside patio. That is just one morning. There will be an infinite number of mornings like that, but they will all carry that insurmountable significance to Neuvillette. Just like your smile. Your face. Your eyes. Hair. Nose. Everything. Anything. All of it.

This is love. It must be.

Days float on by like meandering clouds, the guest room slowly transforms into your room, and the thought of an apartment is abandoned. Neuvillette asks you to start helping him organize papers in his office, find the right tome he needs on Fontaine's laws from his expansive shelves. He buys you clothes in shades of blue, gray, and white, your outfit's color palette harmonizing perfectly with his. Your days are spent constantly together, going from home to the Palais Mermonia, back home, maybe going out for dinner or some other excursion like an opera or show, and Neuvillette is pleased.

Pleased because you have not tried to fight against this. Pleased that you are just as affected as he is. Pleased that he wakes every day knowing you are safe in your home. Pleased that you are his.

His grasp slowly tightens around you like a gardener lining his pruners up against a flower. His hands clasp yours. They draw around your back. Cup your cheek. Brush your lip. When a stranger finds themselves talking to you, Neuvillette's gravity draws you back in, like the earth and the moon. The stranger is simply a speck of dust in this cosmos, never to fall into your shared orbit again.

When you finally kiss after months of this slow pull, Neuvillette knows it is over. You are his. Your room is now his room. Your bed now his bed. Your love is now his love. Your life is now his life. And you know it. And he knows it. And you both know it's for the best.

He will protect you. His rose.

His star.

His love.

Forever.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere drabble #yandere imagine #genshin #neuvillette #genshin impact #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #neuvillette x y/n #yandere neuvillette #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin imagines

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bunnys-kisses · 1 day

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like rum on fire

simon "ghost" riley

cw: angst/fluff/smut, homecoming, slight mentions of ptsd, gentle sex, plus sized!reader, body worship, missionary, sleepy sex, a gentle fic

bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own <3

to come home was to rest his tired head, to finally let himself relax. he had been away for two months, and every day felt like an eternity away from you. how he longed for the smell of your hair and the softness of your skin. he was a man primed for war, but when he was curled up in the bed you shared, he felt human.

like he was made of the pieces that made a human being, not manufactured to be a killer. that he was capable to be loved, to be adored by a you.

the roundness of your face, the thickness of your thighs, the smile you had. it melted away the facade he carried. coming home to you was like finding new life after living in the shadows.

to love you was an inferno in his chest that he couldn't ignore. and as he curled up closer to you on the bed, he felt content with life. his large hand grazed your soft middle and his nose was up against your neck. he could feel the laziness of your pulse as you slept.

"i love you." he said softly into your skin. his mind felt scarred with layers that went inches deep, his face fared no better. but yet you kissed him with passion.

you were not afraid to be seen with him in public. he softly kissed at your skin and held onto you tightly. not tight enough to hurt you, but enough to make him feel secure that you wouldn't slip away.

"i love you. i love you. i love you. i love you." he whispered, his voice caught your ear which caused you to stir. he watched you closely as you turned in his arms and reached out to grab the front of his grey t-shirt.

"what was that?" you asked, your eyes opened a little wider as you yawned, "did you say something?"

"nothin', love." he said softly.

you let go of his shirt and reached for his face where you softly touched the scars on his cheek and mouth. you blinked away and yawned again, "no, no. tell me."

he smiled at you and leaned in to kiss you on the forehead, "it was nothin' special."

you shook your head a little, "i wanna know."

"i love you, doll." he said as he took your head from his face and held onto it. he kissed your knuckle, "you make me feel human."

you felt more awake, "well, simon. i've always thought you were human. don't worry, i made sure to check for any robot parts. you're made of the same squishy stuff as me." you chuckled.

he slowly put you onto your neck and hung over you with his hands planted on either side of you. he kissed your face, which only woke you up more. "my love."

you giggled at his kisses, "oh, simon." you tilted your head to the side and embraced his warmth against you, "you're tickling me."

"i can't get enough of ya, love." he said as he continued to kiss your neck. his hands touched your arms and soon your breasts, "i see you, and i feel like a new man."

"i'll always love you, simon riley."

"and i will love you." he replied as he slowly took your shirt off of your body. he admired the softness of your breasts. you were so curvy and soft in many ways. he thought it was beautiful.

"are you sure you want to do this?" you asked as you reached for his face and held it in your hands, "i know homecoming can be tough."

he nodded, "of course. i want to feel close to you."

you nodded and let go of his face and started to work towards getting your bra off. he watched with a keen eye, you were divine. he was a worshiper of the beauty of your body.

he always thought men who wanted the smaller girls were weak. a real man wanted a woman who looked beautiful in all her curves. he licked his lips at the sight, "beautiful."

you blushed, "oh shut up, simon. this bra is stained as hell."

he cupped your breasts once you got your bra off and leaned in for a deeper kiss. he said simply, "i don't care, you're beautiful." then played with them, massaging them in his larger hands as his lips pressed against yours. he was starting to feel hot all over.

he wanted his love. his inferno, his sun, his angel. like a man begging for salvation, he begged to lay you out on the bed and show you the pleasure you two had been missing for some time.

you moaned into this kiss and later broke it to get fully undressed. he watched you as he got his own clothes off and soon you were both naked on the bed together. he got between your legs and admired your body.

he licked his lips and met your gaze. one hand on your hips, the other on your cock as he rubbed his length up against your slit. the room felt hotter than when he first entered it. the blood flow had long left his head and was now solely in his painfully hard cock.

"are you sure?"

he nodded, "certain." then slowly slid his cock into you. the breath left his lungs as he bottomed out into you and soon held onto your hips with both hands. his pace was slowly, he wanted to admire every inch of you. every noise your made, the way your nose scrunched up when it felt especially good.

his eyes raked your body as he began to move at a steady pace. he wasn't bouncing you on his dick, but it was consistent enough that pleasure ran through you.

your pulse was quick and your skin was hot as the two of you made love. it wasn't fucking, it was making love. two people came together to make something beautiful.

he went back to kissing you, he was bent over you as he thrusted his hips. your sweet noises was muffled by his tongue in your mouth. the kiss was the most aggressive part of his movements against you. he wanted to make sure that his love was taken care of.

he just adored you. his sunlight between the leaves. the comfort of home, the safety of being loved. his cheeks were rosy, the sweat drew down his back.

your back arched a little as the pleasure melted in your core. your nails dug into the pillow under your head. he parted the kiss and wiped the sweat off his forehead and neck.

"you're beautiful."

"you're not too bad yourself." you whimpered.

he curled further over you, he leveled your hips up a little bit to hit your core at the right angle. he panted as he continued to thrust into you. the air of your bedroom was hot as the sun beamed through the big windows.

"please, simon." you moaned.

"my sweet." he replied as he picked up the pace a little.

pleasure mounted between the two of you. he kissed you once more as he gave a few more thrusts and finished. you moaned into the kiss as you clenched around his cock and came as well. the heat stung your cheeks as you climaxed. you held onto the pillows tightly as you hit your peak then relaxed once more.

simon broke the kiss and looked down at you with nothing but sheer affection. he let go of your hips and rested on his heels, his cock slipped out of you and rested against his thigh. he wiped the sweat from his brow once more.

"still beautiful."

you panted and looked at him with hooded eyes, "not as beautiful as you." you then laughed sleepily as he got back to your side on the bed and curled you up in his arms. you melted into his touch as he kissed at your hairline.

"i'm happy to be home."

"i am too, simon." you looked into his eyes, brown like fresh coffee but they lit up when they were locked onto you, you cupped his face and smiled, "i love you."

he kissed you once more on the lips and replied, "i love you. now and forever." <3

#bunny writes #reader insert #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty smut #simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #call of duty x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon my beloved

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ghoulfuckersincorporated · 2 days

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feeling veryyyy normal thinking about being offered as part of bounty to the ghoul because the bounty poster doesn’t end up having the caps they promised him. and they need to pay him somehow. they’ll offer him their lil captive vaultie as payment for the rest. 👉🏻👈🏻 will he accept?🫣

A Fair Trade

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

Word Count: 3,980

Warnings: smut (18+), p in v sex, oral (m receiving), creampie, sex as payment for debt, human trafficking typical of the Fallout universe.

Summary: The Ghoul always gets what's owed to him.

Notes: Oh, wow! My first submission-type ask! I'm genuinely super flattered and totally open to doing more. I initially ballparked that this would be around 2,500 words and it ended up almost 4,000 because I have no self control when it comes to this man. I will try to keep other submissions a little shorter, generally, to hopefully get them out quicker.

To the anon: This may have turned out...sweeter than you may have envisioned? Maybe that's not the word. Less rough? If so, my apologies! I hope you still enjoy.

Things had been...unfortunate for you since you had decided to leave your vault.

Looking for a taste of something new, chasing the feeling that the world had other things for you to experience, you had managed to make it to the nearest settlement of any import with only a few scrapes and bruises. But, regrettably, you lacked a true understanding of how cruel and selfish people on the surface could be, and you quickly ended up the captive of some random outpost runner.

Well, you'd been traded to the outpost runner. You still weren't quite sure how that had come about, even after weeks and weeks had passed, but, frankly, the scrawny, dirty man was a lot less scary than the guy who had initially captured you. He wasn't not scary by any means (no one up here really was, as far as you could tell); he still confiscated your things and locked you into the small room in the back that you were fairly confident was intended to be a closet every night, but he hadn't really done anything to hurt you so far. You were given a pillow, at least.

But you were growing increasingly uneasy with not knowing what his plans for you were. Worst case scenario, you guessed, he could kill and eat you like you'd heard some surface people did, but that didn't seem to be the case. Nevertheless, the way he eyeballed you, "accidentally" brushed against you with increasing frequency, made you uneasy. Maybe he'd bought you to be his wife, or whatever the Wasteland equivalent would be. You imagined that in the next few weeks he'd offer you more favorable sleeping accommodations...so long as you shared them with him.

Maybe you could accept, kill him in his sleep and flee. You really didn't treasure the idea of ending someone's life, but...you needed to get out of here, and soon.

The sound of the creaky, rusted front door hinges flexing drew your attention, distracting you from your bloody ruminations and the pile of scrap you'd been sorting through. The front office hadn't been loud, but the small murmur of voices instantly faded, a clatter of movement towards the door, followed by some very familiar sounding footfalls. He was back.

The tall, noseless, rad-ravaged man made his way in multiple times a month, sometimes even multiple times a week when the bounties were easy and the work was plentiful. You'd seen each other somewhat often the past few weeks, as your keeper had begun to allow you to clean and assist in the front of the office more and more. It was both better and worse; the days passed with less tedium and you got to see some of the interesting characters the desert produced. However, many of those characters sized you up with predatory eyes, as if they were estimating how many caps they could sell your flesh for in their heads. The ghoul had yet to give you that feeling, interestingly enough.

You'd heard whispers all over town about him, about all the things he'd apparently done, how he was supposedly hundreds of years old. You didn't believe that for a single second. After all, despite his fascinatingly gruesome appearance, he was just a man, wasn't he? A man with very advanced radiation sickness (and a rather unfriendly general disposition), but a man nonetheless.

Sometimes, you felt as if he was certainly looking at you the way a man would. You were unsure, frankly; social etiquette was so vastly different on the surface than it was at home. It sure seemed like he let his eyes linger on you, on your body. Perhaps he was simply curious about you, as you were about him; most people seemed afraid to even look his way, or too disgusted by his condition to even consider it.

"You wanna run that by me again?"

Your ears pricked up instantly at the tone in the ghoul's voice, your heckles raising as you sensed trouble. Tiptoeing towards the door to the front room, you stood as close as you dared, shoulder touching the rotting door frame as you listened in.

"I told you, we were robbed a few nights ago. I don't have the full payment for you right now. This is everything I've got."

You knew your keeper was lying, about the robbery, at least; the place was so small that if anyone had been in to steal anything, you'd have certainly known about it. Whether or not he really had the caps, you didn't know, but you supposed he didn't, figuring that he wouldn't take the risk of pissing off the ghoul if he did. You had overheard him discussing gambling on a few occasions.

"Well, you better find something to make me whole, quick." came the ghoul's acidic reply.

On some level, you understood his frustration. The work was done, the bounty delivered. Un-delivering it wouldn't make up for all the time he'd put in. But, you also knew his reputation for being unforgiving, and you felt a chill run up your spine as you began to fear that he would kill your keeper and you if he didn't find some sort of satisfaction soon.

"I don't have anything worth anything. I told you, this is all I have." the scrawny man shot back, trying to sound confident, tough.

However, based on the way his voice trembled and faltered, the uneasy way he cleared his throat, you suspected the ghoul knew he was lying, too, confirmed only a moment later by what you were certain was the sound of a gun thwish-ing out of its holster and cocking. Your heart flew up into your throat, hammering even harder when, a second later, the lighter sounds of the scrawny man's footsteps rapidly approached the door of the back office. Scrambling back towards the desk, you'd only closed about half the distance when the door flew open, the man grabbing at you almost blindly, his long, dirty nails digging into your exposed wrist as he dragged you, protesting, out behind the counter.

"Hey!" you hissed, trying your best to snatch your arm back out of his grip and failing, infuriatingly. You were momentarily blinded with outrage that he would offer your body to someone to cover his own debts, though you supposed that was just how people did things in this awful place. Your eyes, feeling like they could pop out of your head they were so wide, flew to the man on the other side of the counter, who was assessing you with a look you couldn't read.

"What about her?" the scrawny man asked, and that was the final straw. If things were going to get worse for you, you weren't just going to accept it with a smile. The fingers on your free hand curled into a fist, which you smashed into the side of his face, causing him to release your arm in shock. Almost instantly, he jerked towards you, but the Ghoul pointed the modified pistol in his hand further into his face, stopping him.

"Now, how're you gonna offer me merchandise and then try to damage it in front of me?" he said, speaking to the man, but not looking at him. He was still looking at you, an intrigued glint in his eyes. They were...pretty, actually. Warm and golden brown. Was he really thinking about taking the offer? You'd be lying if you said you weren't curious about what his body would be like underneath all the layers of clothing. However, the entire situation had your walls up high, your whole body trembling slightly.

The Ghoul stepped slowly around the counter towards you; the scrawny man shrunk away, the gun still pointed in his direction, while you held your ground, doing your best to keep your head held high as he stepped right into your bubble, your chests almost touching as he seemed to really size you up. After a moment of incredibly tense silence, his eyes moved to the door, then back to yours. Slowly, he lowered the gun.

"Alright. C'mon, Vaultie." he said simply, turning on one foot to make his way back to the other side of the counter. You hesitated, but soon moved to stand beside him, a surreal feeling washing over you.

"Hey! No fucking way, man! You can't just take her for keeps. She's worth way more caps than I owe you!"

The man was even more red-faced than usual, his tone downright indignant, but he didn't step out from behind the counter to follow.

"Ah, but, see, once we factor in the interest on my missed payment, hurt and suffering, on top of my 'you're a dumbshit' fee...I think it's a wash, personally." the Ghoul replied, leaning back over the counter into the man's dirt-speckled face. He clearly wasn't in a place of strength to negotiate, and his angry gaze moved to you again before he rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"What the fuck ever." he grunted.

You felt your body relax noticeably as the bulk of the conflict seemed to pass. However, there was a small amount of unfinished business you wanted to address before you left this place. You crossed your arms, turning your narrowed eyes to your former keeper, feeling emboldened with the Ghoul standing at your back.

"Where's my bag you took from me?"

Soon, you were back in possession of your things, including your Pip Boy, which you fretted over as you and your new keeper set out the door and into the desert heat. As you walked, you flexed the sore fingers on your hand absentmindedly. Soon, you were pouring sweat, pausing briefly to peel the top half of your vault suit down to your waist, tying the sleeves around you hips. The Ghoul appraised you silently as you did, taking a hit off of an inhaler from his pocket before continuing on.

As grateful as you were to be away from the trading outpost, away from the scrawny man and his uneasy ways, you couldn't help but worry in the back of your mind, fret at the possibility that you were going somewhere worse. It was being too trusting that got you into your situation to begin with. You worried at your lip with your teeth as he began to direct you down the road, his hand flat and firm between your shoulders. You weren't sure if the gesture was intended to be one of comfort, or if he was simply ready to snatch you up by the back of your vault suit if you decided to try to run.

The two of you walked in complete silence in the direction of the setting sun for what felt like a hundred miles. In truth, your Pip Boy revealed that you'd only gone a single mile and some change when the sun fully dipped behind the horizon, granting some blessed relief from the sweltering heat. You kept on a while longer, until the stars began to appear; eventually, the man veered from the decrepit highway, steering you to a little alcove in the rocky hillside, barely big enough to be a coyote's den.

"Alright, we'll bed down here for the night. Gettin' too dark to keep walkin'." he said, dropping his bag on the ground in a little cloud of dust as he turned to survey the site suspiciously.

You stood waiting for him to direct you, your fingers wrapped tight around the straps of your backpack, watching as he checked around wordlessly. After a few minutes, you chose one of the flatter rocks around and sat against it, watching as he built a small fire, inhaling some of the rations that had been hid away in your bag. Eventually, the ghoul threw himself down on the other side of the flames, facing the highway, and did the same, tucking into something canned from his bag. Things were quiet for a while, but eventually he spoke to you again, his voice pulling you away from fidgeting with with your Pip-Boy.

"Y'know, you're insanely lucky he didn't sell that thing. Can get quite a bit for a functional one these days. Moron didn't know what he had." he said, still chewing.

You blinked at him, your eyes flitting between the gadget on your arm and him, unsure how to respond. Briefly, you felt a growing sense of apprehension, but he must've sensed it, as he rolled his eyes and sighed softly as he swallowed.

"I'm just sayin' you're lucky you still have it, kid. Don't piss your pants. Trust me, if I wanted that thing, I'd have taken it from you already." he said, tossing the now-empty can over his shoulder.

You nodded silently, willing the tension out of your spine as you watched him dig around inside the oiled leather saddle bag once more. He produced a silver flask and a canteen, taking long pulls off of one, then the other. He then took another drag off of the inhaler he'd been puffing as you walked. Eventually, he stood, gave his back a stretch, and shrugged the long, tattered duster from his shoulders, splaying it out quickly on the ground behind him before turning back to face you.

"Alright, darlin'. Get your little ass over here."

You felt yourself freeze almost completely, your head turning sharply towards him. He hadn't said anything about the initial deal for so long that you weren't sure he was actually interested.

"What? I accepted you in lieu of payment. That means you are the payment, sweetheart. And I do intend to collect." he said, plainly amused, sinking down to the ground, his back sliding against the red rock behind him. "Besides, I've seen the way you look at me. Don't pretend you're not curious."

Your cheeks instantly felt agonizingly hot; had you been that obvious in your interest in him? Every day, something new in this place made you feel so silly, so naive. But, at the same time...he wasn't wrong. He might be rough-looking overall, but he'd been kind to you so far, and he did have quite a nice build. Besides, it had been weeks since you'd felt sufficiently alone enough to masturbate. A tad awkwardly, you went to lift yourself to walk to him when he cut you off.

"Mmm. How about you crawl?"

You felt your face twist into a mask of indignant confusion, and he chuckled. Hesitating, you made measured eye contact with him over the flames, quickly realizing, as those mischievous eyes glinted back at you, that he was serious. You swallowed hard, pulling yourself slowly onto your hands and knees before crawling the half-circle around the small fire as quickly and as dignified as possible, though there felt like there was very little dignity in it anyway. You stopped at his feet, kneeling with your hands on your thighs and looking up at him, trying your hardest to not seem as nervous as you felt.

"Take your shirt off." he ordered, head tilted as he watched you quickly pull the grimy undershirt over your head, tossing it near your bag. The night air was cool on your bare breasts, your sensitive nipples quickly peaking into hard little nubs that stung slightly. You wanted to press your warm palms to them, soothe the ache, but you didn't want him to think you were trying to cover yourself, so you simply sat, staring again, waiting for further instructions.

He grinned at you, leaning forward into your space, his gloved fingers stroking along your jaw, sliding a single one under your chin to lift your eyes fully to his. They were just as pretty glinting in the dying firelight as they had been in the outpost office.

"Y'know, you take direction pretty well, Vaultie. I like that in a lady." he said, tone low and conspiratory.

Your entire face burned now, even your eyes feeling hot, but that fire spread its way down into your core, blooming between your thighs, and you shifted slightly to press them together harder.

Reaching down, he made quick work of the belt holding up his pants and his fly, tugging free a cock that was about as red as the rest of him, the bulbous head glistening with precum already in the yellow-orange glow of the fire. Your tongue darted out to swipe at your lower lip, and you crawled up his legs to look closer. The Ghoul seemed surprised, leaning back ever so slightly from you as you came near, giving you room to move close and wrap your hand around him, drawing out a long hiss from between his yellowed teeth.

"Right on it, eh?" he chuckled almost breathlessly. "I like that in a lady, too."

You shot him a bit of a chastising look as you began to work your hand up and down over him, your free fingers coming to play along the weeping slit of him, earning another groan. He was a pretty average length for his height, you thought, but thick and already almost completely hard. It didn't seem like it would take much work to get him the rest of the way there. Your musings were interrupted by the feeling of his leather glove brushing against the swell of your breast before encaging the whole thing in his palm, massaging almost reverently. You whimpered when he plucked at your other nipple, sending shocks down your spine and straight to your already throbbing clit.

"Let's see what that pretty mouth is good for, hmm?"

Embarrassingly, you immediately dropped your head, pushing your body flat so you were sort of lying between his spread legs, bringing your lips down to hover a few inches above his leaking cock head. Tongue darting out to lap up a little taste of the shiny slickness there, you hummed; he tasted different than you were expecting, sort of the same, but with an almost metallic edge. You ran your tongue in a full circle around his tip, clenching around nothing when he groaned throatily, his right hand sliding through the dirt beside him.

"Fuck." he spat out when you unhinged your jaw, allowing the first few inches of him to fill your mouth, wrapping your lips around the head and sucking hard as your left hand continued to work the base of him. More and more precum leaked from the slit as you tongued at it, the taste and the knowledge that you were arousing to him making you rub your thighs together shamelessly.

"Play with your pussy." he commanded, clearly struggling to keep his tone even. Beneath you, you could feel his hips rocking almost imperceptibly. He didn't need to tell you twice; you could already tell you'd soaked through your underwear as you wrestled your hand down into your pants, pushing the wet gusset aside to rub tight circles around your swollen bud, moaning around his cock at the feeling.

The sound seemed to really turn him on, one of his hands suddenly moving to fist into your hair, the slight pain at the roots making you throb. His other hand came to cup your jaw again, holding you in place as he fully fucked his hips up into your waiting mouth, cussing under his breath as you continued to push yourself closer to orgasm. He kept you like that for a few long minutes, your neck cramping slightly by the time his thumb reached down, wiping away some drool that was dribbling down your chin. Bleary eyed, you looked up at him pleadingly. His answer was a wicked chuckle, his grin less of a smile and more a predator bearing his teeth.

"Blowin' a ghoul turn you on that much, cutie? What would the other vaulties think?" he tutted, shaking his head. "I think it's time you get on my cock."

Blushing hard at his little taunt, you could feel his burning gaze as you pulled yourself back up into a sitting position, tugging your boots off and setting them aside before shimmying the suit the rest of the way off, along with your underwear. A shiver broke down your spine as a small breeze hit you, your fire pretty much nothing but glowing embers now. However, when you pulled yourself back onto his lap, sighing as you ground your wet slit against his erection, you found that he was pleasantly warm feeling, bringing your hands up to his chest so you could lean over just enough to reach between you and position his cock at your entrance.

Too afraid of injuring yourself to attempt to take him all in one move, you instead opted to sink down onto the head, wriggling your hips before pulling them back up, then sinking down again, gently bouncing yourself down onto him. The man beneath you was tense, his hands kneading at your breasts as he huffed and hissed his way inside you. By the time you'd worked yourself most of the way down onto him, his hands moved to your hips, gripping them deliciously tight as you bobbed up and down on his length. For as cocky as he'd been before, he was pretty clearly struggling to keep his cool now.

One of your hands moved up from his chest, leaving you unsteadily balancing on one hand as the other pinched your nipple the same way he had before, making you cry out like a wounded animal. He must've liked that, as well, as his hands immediately yanked you the rest of the way down onto him, your ass resting flush against his hips. You repeated the sound again, higher, more strangled as he sat so deep inside you, the fat tip of him strumming away at something amazing right behind your belly button. It was too dark to make out much of anything, but you could feel the way his body twitched and bucked beneath you, strung tight as a bow.

The Ghoul's hands were digging deep into the fat of your hips, so hard you knew you'd bruise, restricting your movement, forcing you to swivel and grind your hips against him, the angle putting delicious friction on your poor aching clit and pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your body began to clench around him rhythmically, and his hand quickly appeared on your clit in the dark, rubbing surprisingly deft stripes up and down the puffy flesh until you were suddenly gasping for air, trembling hard against his chest as he fucked up into your heat roughly, sloppily, the hand that wasn't on your clit slapping you hard on the ass. Suddenly, he let out a long, low groan, and you could feel the hot throbbing of him pumping his cum inside you, his hips stuttering as you let yourself slump halfway against him. There was a sudden metallic taste in your mouth. For several long moments, there were no sounds but your co-mingled harsh breaths and sound of the wind swirling the sand across the foothills.

After you'd finally caught your breath, you made a move to extract yourself from him. He promptly stopped you, flipping you onto your back, the smell of the duster's rich leather curling in around you as he kept grinding his hips into your overstimulated cunt. It drew an embarrassing squeal from you, hands flying to his chest once more before being rather playfully batted away.

"Oh, no, sweetheart. Nice as that was, your buddy owed me quite a bit of money. I think you'll be paying me back in installments." he growled in your ear, one hand moving around to give your ass a firm squeeze as you gave another clench around him. Your mind, foggy with sex, wandered to the Radaway still stashed in your bag.

It was going to be a long night.

#cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x reader #fallout tv show #fallout prime #submission

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heartfullofleeches · 2 days

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Man imagine bustomer walking in and just seeing a bigass human monster long arm legged cat with a zipper??? Just staring.

Customer: *pays for item and rudely hands the money*

Lynel: *whispers behind them menacingly* …Say keep the change.

Customer: *shits their pants and on the brink of tears* mommy…

Lynlas tricks/enjoys messing with customers by pretending to be a statue propped up in Witch Reader's lobby/living room. In a normal household, a cat human creature held together by zippers may seem like an outlandish choice for decoration, but it feels right at home in the witch's possession.

"What a peculiar figurine...."

Aged fingers map the teeth of the zipper scaling the length of the statues face. They trail to its mouth, curled in a wide grin - unsurprised by the give of its teeth given the zipper's impression of there being something else underneath. The illuminated iris of its singular visible eye pokes through the shroud of darkness that is its sciera. Curiosity blossoms a new as attention is directed towards their right eye. A tab dangles from the sealed lid - small, hole circle scars in the skin indicating some of of former injury. The point of a needle, perhaps?

"Pardon me...."

The collector stiffens- Entering from the kitchen, floorboard's creak with each tap of your advancing steps. Standing before the older gentleman, you present him with the cup of tea requested from your lists of refreshments for guests. A smile dawns your face, yet it does not reach your eyes- They point away from the man, knowing and calculating. The watchful gaze of someone waiting for another to misbehave.

"Do you like them? Lynlas has been with me for some time now. They are the best companion one in my line of work could ask for."

The name of the figure lingers on the collector's tongue. "Lynlas....I beg you- I'll pay ten - twenty times more than what I came here for. It would be a marvelous addition to my collection."

Your face tightens, smile shrinking into something akin to a grimace. "I'm afraid they are not for sale."

You stumble - grounding a foot backwards as his hands perch onto your shoulders.

"Money is not an issue for me. Name your price, I insist!"

Your eyes once again dart towards the figure - a flicker of panic flashing over your otherwise relaxed expression. "Sir, please refrain from putting your hands on me. They do not want you-"

"Surely you can bare to part with it! You can fill your home with similar novelties with the money you'll gain-"

"Agh!"

Scolding white pain shoots through your hands, bleeding down your arms as scorching liquid seeps into the sleeves of your shirt. The tea cup crashes to the floor with a loud crack - your body falling to its knees along with it. The agony is fleeting, hurt morphing to terror as the tear of a zipper racks through the walls of your living room.

"Lynlas.... It was an accident."

Nails scrape along the wooden floor, bones snapping and cracking into place as the statue reaches its full height.

"Lynlas.... He is a senile old man. Do not attack him."

The collector turns as hot breath fans the nape of his neck. A long, greyed tongue unfurls from the backs of pointed teeth.

"Didn't you hear, old man.... I'm not for sale."

"LYNLAS!"

The feline's ears press flatly against their skull as they scrub blood out of your prized rug. Sniffling, it looks up at you - eye wet with tears.

"I'm sorry for ruining your favorite rug again, Master... Can I still sleep in your room tonight?"

#Lynlas my oc #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere blurb #yandere hybrid #yandere drabble #witch reader #yandere teratophilia

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jup1ter33 · 1 day

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Boothill headcannons

sfw + nsfw! 🔞 brings up his past so be prepared to hear about that😥

sfw

he is so goofy with you, always bickering and starting something just to get on your nerves.

he means no harm though, just playful banter.

he's a wee bit touch starved, so he adores it when he can hold you and kiss you

no body better try and hurt you unless they'd like a bullet between the eyes from him.

he has no problem firing his gun at anyone who dares to hurt you, whats a few more credits on his bounty??

when you first learned about what happened on his home planet, you didn't know how to respond. you could see the pain in his eyes, but he would try and dismiss it.

that same night, he ended up bawling his eyes out on your shoulder. the words "I miss my baby... my daughter." spouted from his lips. he was sure that he couldn't cry anymore, but with you, he felt such security, a safe haven for himself.

he'd have nightmares often. he'd abandon his charging station to come lay with you clutching you to his chest in fear that he'd loose you too.

but moments with boothill are rarely sad. In fact, he's typically enthusiastic and playful with you.

he's a charmer, calling you cute names and what-not.

he'd remove his hat and place it on your head while he kisses you.

being a galaxy ranger, he would often have to leave for weeks at a time. he'd give you a piece of his clothes, or a pin off his jacket, or some flowers before he left. he'd give you a deep hug, resting his head ontop of yours and taking in your scent before he has to leave.

on his trips he'd send you photos of the scenery, or some cool monuments, or anything he'd think would interest you.

he'd text you good morning and good night every day, saying how he misses you

on those days where he gets back in the middle of the night, he'd find you sleeping in the bed on his side, the blankets pulled up to your chin.

he's quietly snuggle his way in, cradling you in his arms.

buttttt, when he gets back in the morning, you better be ready to go out and have some fun.

he'll give you a gift he picked out for you, take you out drinking or to some random restaurant. sure, he'd get stares, but he didn't care.

he's so good with kids, he plays with them all the time and scolds them when they've been naughty.

he used to play guitar with his little girl, but now that his hands are metal, he has trouble getting his fingers to press on the fret board correctly:(

nsfw

oh boy, be prepared to hear this man

he's so whiny, he whimpers and moans so loud.

one of his absolute favorite things is to eat you out. the only human part of him left is his face, so being burried in between your thigh, your warm cunt pressed against his mouth, he can feel so much of it. it sends his fans whirling from the feeling of skin-to-skin.

and the pet names, he never runs out of them. darlin', sweetheart, buttercup, the list goes on and on.

because of his synestheisa beacon, it's hard for him to give you really any degrading words.

"T-take it like the cutie you are..."

he ends up getting frustrated and decides that maybe until he can get that solved, he won't use those words on you.

wondering how his dick works? yeah me too.

he'd probably have a silicone skin layer underneath his metal "armor" so I'd assume that his girth would be made of that. (there's no way it's metal that would be torture 😭)

boothills hair is sensitive, like before, his head is the only human part of him left. giving him a good tug makes him groan and jolt.

manhandles you. not exactly intentionally, but because of his cyborg body, it's hard for him to remember that he's alot tougher than you are, and he doesn't mean it in a way that your weak, (because your not) but because he simply gets so worked up he accidently will toss you around a bit.

he's had his fair share of experience, mostly before be was a cyborg, so he'll test things out on you.

he'll watch and see if your reaction to his metallic fingers prodding at your hole, would his fingers be too hard for your liking? would they be too big? he'd be observant in the way he works thru things with you.

until he met you, he didn't know that this charging port was a little sensitive.

he was being rough with you, as a result, your arms wrapped around his body in pleasure, clawing at his back. on accident, your fingers slipped into the charging port on his lower back, and he came on the spot.

he was soooooooo embarrassed.

"i-i...darlin' I didn't know that could even happen to me..." You assured him that it was fine, and that it was rather hot.

he'll find himself on his hands and knees, his port being teased from your Skillful hands and he melts. he whimpers and moans so loud, already on his 3 orgasm.

kinda hard to overstim him, he doesn't feel alot through his metallic skin, but if you make him cum a few times, he gets so whiny and needy.

he's mostly a top, he prefers to have you wrapped around his finger. literally.

but in the case that he decided to be a bottom, he cries your name, telling you how good it feels, how much he loves you, all the things he wants to do to you. he really can't shut up.

after you two finish, he lays next to you for a moment, allowing his fans to cool his overheating body down, and for you to regain your breath.

"so...how'd I do?" He'd ask with a cheek grin on his face. he knows he did good, but he wants to hear it straight from you.

he'll run you a shower or bath, whichever you prefer. but since he doesn't exactly need to shower (and it makes him rust) he'll stay on the outside. helping you with whatever you'd need.

and while your busy washing up, he'll clean off himself with his cleaning kit, oil his fingers and joints, make sure he didn't screw up his alignment.

once you're done, he won't allow you to lift a finger. he'll change the sheets, get you food or a drink, dress you, help you with your skincare, everything. since his body is robotic, he can just charge and won't get sore. he wants to make sure that he didn't mess you up too badly.

once everything is done, he'll lay you in bed ever-so gently.

he'll cuddle up next to you, burrowing his face into your chest, listening for your heartbeat. yes, it brings him pain that he no longer has a beating heart, but as long as he can lay with you and hear yours, to know you're safe, all is well.

#genshin #boothill #honkai star rail imagines #honkai x reader #hsr fanfic #boothill smut #hsr smut

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sentientgolfball · 2 days

Text

What if Dew became a fire ghoul because he was trying to save Ifrit?

Once Zephyr disappeared the rest were on edge. Dealing with the loss of Terzo was enough but when the pack started to thin their hackles were raised.

Dew is a light sleeper, always had been, and the anxiety wasn’t helping. He had been awake staring at the dying embers of the fire in the common room of the den when he heard it. Felt it. A guttural roar echoing through the ancient stone halls. He knew deep in his soul it was Ifrit.

He was up and running towards the commotion before he even thought about it. Nobody knew what happened to Zephyr and he’d be damned if he didn’t try to help Ifrit. If he failed at least they’d go together. The sound of claws scraping against stone rang against his ears as he followed the scent of burning flesh. Rage. His heart was pounding against his chest as he got closer and closer to the summoning rooms.

The door had been broken off its hinges, claw marks dug into the stone bricks. What he saw when he rushed in made him feel fear like he’s never felt before. Ifrit was chained on his knees in the center of a circle. Muzzled. There was blood on him and Dew couldn’t tell what was his and what wasn’t. When Ifrit saw him he screamed.

Dew get out of here! Get the others and leave!

The hooded Clergy members rushed for Dew while two of them started the banishment ritual. Instinct took over and Dew lashed out with claw and fang trying to reach him. He had to. He couldn’t do this without Ifrit. He was their strength.

Someone grabbed Dew from behind and Ifrit knew he had to reach him. They’d send Dew back for this. Or worse. He gathered all of what he had left and ripped one arm out of the bindings. The blessed steel hurt like Hell but if he could just reach Dew he knew they could get out together.

Something happened in that moment. One of the ritual Clergy panicked. He began to close the half open circle. The one Ifrit was caught in, fading in and out of existence with each Infernal incantation. The pain zapped through Ifrit and some deep part of him knew he wasn’t making it out of that room alive. Still he reached for Dew.

Dew rammed his head back into the nose of the human who held him. When she let go and rushed to Ifrit. He needed to pull him out, an unstable summoning circle was certain death for anyone trapped inside.

But he was too late. The panicked human closed it when Dew got too close. Even as Ifrit felt his very soul being torn apart, scattered across every plane of existence his last conscious thought was to save Dew. His fire escaped him when he lost his body. The wild energy went staring for the closest vessel. Straight to Dew.

He felt it consume him, evaporating the water in his veins. It didn’t hurt though. All he felt was Ifrit. It reminded him of those cold winter nights when he’d crawl into his bed, searching for his warmth. Dew last thought before the exertion took its toll was how he failed Ifrit.

When woke up in the infirmary he couldn’t remember what happened. Why was he there? Mountain and Aether jumped into the bed with tears in their eyes when they saw he was awake. When their breathing evened out they threw question after question at him, trying to figure out what happened in the dead of night. What happened to you? Where’s Ifrit?

And Dew furrowed his brow.

Who’s Ifrit?

#the band ghost #ghost bc #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #ifrit ghoul #era 3 ghouls #golfball writes #ghoul headcanons

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 2 days

Note

Your wish is my command!

(There's less comfort here and more hurt than I planned, and then the sexual tension snuck in, oh my ...)

A deal with the devil

Rated: T

Words: 980

Tags: Pirate AU; Pirate Eddie; castaway Steve; Billy Hargrove being an asshole; Steve Harrington whump; dehydration; non-consensual bondage; sexual tension; sexual innuendo

The water runs out before the first day is through.

They gave him a single skin of it. That, and a blunt knife to ward off the sharks.

“To tide you over until you find land or a kind soul to aid you,” Hargrove winked, patting his cheek as the boat began to lower. “I'm not a monster, pretty boy.”

Steve said nothing. There is no land for hundreds of miles. They passed the last ship three days ago. They both knew this.

He refused to touch the water at first, even as the sun burnt his skin and his tongue began to feel like a piece of cotton in his mouth. He knew it would only prolong the inevitable. But the human instinct for survival is a dumb thing, and with the sun at its zenith and the ocean blurring into the sky all around him, he eventually pressed the skin to his cracked lips, emptying it with three greedy gulps.

He doesn’t know how long ago that was. It feels like weeks, even though the rational part of him knows it can't have been more than a day or two. He's been drifting in and out of consciousness, though, and it's hard to tell.

Not like it matters, he thinks, staring up at the deadly white disk overhead. He should shut his lids against the glare, but he can't even muster the energy to blink. His eyes should water from the light, but there's no liquid left in him. All he can do is lie here and hope that it will be quick now.

He slips into dreams. Voices filling his ears. A cold shadow enveloping him. Hands cradling him, combing sweat-soaked hair from his forehead. Dark hair billowing around a pale, pretty face, like seaweed. A siren come to pull him into the depths, he thinks deliriously, to drag him into his wet grave and devour his flesh.

He doesn't mind.

It will be cool under the sea.

When he opens his eyes again, he's confused at first. Purgatory looks a lot different from what he expected. He thought there'd be fire, not linen pillows and brocade curtains. He also thought it'd smell like smoke and burning skin, not like wood and sea salt and gunpowder.

Steve shoots up with a strangled shout. The wet cloth on his forehead slips and lands next to the bed.

He's not in purgatory. He's on a ship. In the captain's quarters, if the curtained bed and lush carpets are anything to go by.

He's also been cuffed to the bed by one wrist.

His free hand instinctively gropes for the knife in his boot, only to find that it's gone.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.”

He freezes.

There's a man in the armchair beside the bed. Steve didn’t notice him before, because he was reclining into the cushions, but now he's leaning forward, dark eyes watching Steve from under a wide-brimmed hat. The rings on his fingers glint as he stacks his hands, resting his chin on them. Balanced between his fingers is the knife.

“That's mine,” Steve blurts. “Give it back.”

The man laughs.

“I saved your life out there, darling, be a little more grateful. I usually take a lot more from the vessels I encounter.”

Steve's stomach drops. Because now that the fog is slowly lifting from his mind, the man looks familiar. He's seen that face before, staring back at him from wanted posters in port towns.

“You're Edward Munson,” he mutters. “The pirate.”

“That's me,” Munson swoops into a bow. “Welcome aboard the Hellfire. Now, who do I have the pleasure with?”

Steve bites his bottom lip. That grin goes just a little wider.

“Nevermind,” Munson purrs. “I think I know.”

Steve remains silent, hoping the hammering of his racing heart will not betray him.

“The Marines are looking for a boy matching your description,” Munson continues, cleaning his nails with the knife. “Governor's son. Made off with one of daddy's ships to play pirates, it's the talk of-”

“No idea what you mean,” Steve snaps. “I'm a simple sailor who was in a shipwreck, I-”

Munson scoffs. “Alright then, sailor. Tell me why I shouldn't just turn you over? That reward is handsome, I could make good use of it.”

“Except you won't,” Steve says, and now it's his turn to measure the other man with a smug smile. “Can't spend that money without a head.”

Munson sighs.

“I just want a nice, easy life,” he whines theatrically. “What's wrong with that? You rob a few ships, seize a treasure or two, and suddenly people are out for your life. And yet, somehow, I am the abominable one here, imagine that!”

Steve stares at him. Munson clears his throat.

“Anyhow,” he then says. “Don't think I'll let you laze around in my bed forever. You want to stay, you apply yourself like everybody else.”

Steve wants to tell him to go fuck himself, but somehow that doesn't seem smart. Not with his only weapon in the guy's hand and nothing but water around them for days.

“Fine,” he grumbles. “I'll apply myself. I can mop the deck, help out in the kitchen, whatever you-”

Munson waves him off. “Nah, I got people for that.”

Steve scowls. “Then what-”

One ring-clad hand touches his jaw and the words die on his tongue.

“Don't worry, sweetheart,” Munson winks at him. “We'll find something for you to do. Something to make my life just a little bit nicer and easier, right?”

Steve bites his tongue so hard he tastes copper, and nods. He only needs to hold out until they get to land and he can figure out a way to get his ship back.

If he needs to sell his soul to the Devil of the Hellfire to accomplish that, so be it.

Something, something, they fuck about it, fall in love, kick Billy's ass and take back Steve's ship, they become pirate husbands, the end.

More celebration ficlets

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #hype's 1k follower ficlets

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inamagicalhallucination · 24 hours

Text

strength always seems to be linked to the ability to stand alone, which is why i think so many ppl overlook atsushi's growth

in the beginning of the manga atsushi is filled with self doubt and the second he thinks he's bringing trouble to the ada he turns and tries to leave and go on the run

now mind you atsushi has just felt for the first time something that could be acceptance (say what you want about dazai's blackmailing, but has anyone wanted atsushi enough to try and trick him into staying? not the best way, i know but in all its um dazai-ness, it did show that atsushi had something (his ability, etc) that was worth having) and the second he thinks he's hurting them he tries to leave --- he doesn't ask for help, he doesn't try and talk it out, he stands alone

and i dont think atsushi's weak for doing this, mind you. atsushi's kindness and selflessness are both things that are part of his character, and i dont think the headmaster had any part of it, despite what atsushi believes --- but for all it shows atsushi's care, selflessness, and kindness, it also shows how little he values himself and how much he believes he's essentially unimportant

(editing to add: it also shows his inability to trust the ada's strength overall, and their commitment to their members, and his own role as a part of them)

him leaving shows that atsushi has always been alone -- at the orphanage, with the headmasters "attention" he was alone, in his suffering, his pain --- or perhaps its that he's alone because the headmaster follows him forever - becuz in a way he's surrounded but yet somehow he's all he's ever had

when in 55 minutes atsushi tells kunikida and dazai about time travelling, its not a show of weakness it's a show of growth

it shows that atsushi has learned that he doesn't have to be alone. atsushi can rely on others --- even if atsushi still thinks the worst of himself, he's starting to think of himself as part of the agency -- as someone who can ask for help

strength and growth arent only the ability to stand alone --- which mind you atsushi has done -- he's done it for 18 years and he may not have lived but he fucking survived with all odds against him, he survived and with all the makings of bitterness and anger, he did his best to be kind

but atsushi doesn't have to be alone -- humans aren't meant to be alone, he's better when he's with people he can trust and with the agency he's able to have that and he's able to understand that he has that

atsushi's character goes from someone who only has himself to someone who can rely on others --- someone who can be strong becuase he has people, and who, when weak, still has them

this is pretty much explained by atsushi himself on the boat pre-akutagawa

atsushi has always been alone. but now that he's tasted what not being alone is he doesn't know how to be alone anymore -- not because he's weak but because he's grown as a character, because he's changed

because he knows that he can be around people who won't hurt him

atsushi fights stronger when he's with akutagawa because strength isn't being alone, it's the ability to trust others -- despite only learning why you should never -- it's the ability to reach out and stand next to someone as their equal and fight together

atsushi is easily one of the strongest characters, because he's finally learned he can rely on people

his character growth and development are breathtaking to watch

#1 am rambles #atsushi nakajima #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd analysis #bsd atsushi nakajima

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doumadono · 2 days

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Emergency request!

Yesterday evening the Aurora borealis was visible where I live, my family went to get a better view but I stayed home. Still, it was visible even from my backyard. But I missed it entirely because I had terrible diarrhea and vomited, and now I feel ugly, gross and unlucky.

The worst part was seeing texts of family and friends saying 'look outside' and 'it's amazing' sent five minutes after getting sick, and later when they got home no one asked if I was okay. The only solace I have is that if I'd gone with my fam I'd have probably shit myself.

Could I please request Shouto comforting me after having to miss something like that due to sickness? Something I "might never get to see again"? He's my comfort character.

If this doesn't qualify as an emergency I totally understand.

Aurora borealis - Shoto x Reader

A/N: I'm so sorry to hear about your difficult evening. It's understandable to feel disappointed, but please know that missing the aurora borealis doesn't make you any less lucky or worthy. Your health and well-being are the most important things. If it's any consolation, I'm sure there will always be more opportunities to witness the beauty of nature ♥

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

Shoto sat on the edge of your bed, concern etched into his features as he watched you curled up under the blankets.

Your face was drawn with exhaustion and frustration, the events of the evening clearly weighing heavily on your mind.

He reached out a gentle hand, resting it on your shoulder. "Hey," he said softly, his voice a soothing presence in the quiet room. "Are you feeling any better?"

You glanced up at him, the faintest hint of tears glistening in your eyes. "It was supposed to be so beautiful," you murmured, your voice tinged with disappointment. "I've always wanted to see it, and now I might never get the chance again. And no, my tummy still hurts."

Shoto's heart ached at the sadness in your voice. He knew how much you had been looking forward to witnessing the natural wonder, and it pained him to see you feeling so downcast. But he also knew that there were more important things than seeing a celestial display. "What matters most right now is that you take care of yourself."

You sighed, leaning into his touch as he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. "I just feel so… ugly and gross," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as a single tear rolled down your reddened cheek. "I feel so unlucky," you confessed, your voice tinged with sadness.

Shoto's grip tightened ever so slightly, his warmth a comforting presence against your skin. "You're not ugly or gross, baby," he said firmly, placing a kiss to your temple. "You're human, and sometimes our bodies don't cooperate the way we want them to. It's okay to feel disappointed, but please don't be so hard on yourself." Shoto's hand gently brushed against your hair, his touch soothing. "As I said, your health comes first, always."

You sniffled, a tear slipping down your cheek as you leaned into Shoto's embrace. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "You're the best boyfriend."

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips warm against your skin. "Anytime," he murmured, his voice a soothing melody in the quiet room.

After leaving your shared bedroom where you were resting, Shoto's mind raced as he thought of a way to bring the beauty of the Aurora borealis to you, even though you couldn't witness it in person.

Remembering Denki Kaminari, your common friend from U.A. times, was a streamer, he quickly reached out to him. Shoto pulled out his phone and dialed Denki's number. After a few rings, Denki finally answered.

"Hey, Todoroki! What's up?" Denki's cheerful voice came through the line.

"Hey, Denki. I hope I'm not interrupting anything, but I have a favor to ask," Shoto replied, trying to keep his tone steady.

"Of course, man! What do you need?" Denki responded, sounding genuinely interested.

"Well, you see, the Aurora borealis is visible tonight, and… well, my girlfriend is feeling really sick and couldn't come out to see it. And since you're frequently streaming on YouTube, I was wondering if you could stream it on your channel so she could watch it from home?" Shoto explained, feeling a bit awkward.

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Denki spoke again. "Wow, that sounds like a great idea! I'd be happy to help out! Let me jus finish my gameplay! Just give me a few minutes to set everything up, okay?"

Relief flooded through Shoto as he thanked Denki profusely. "Thank you so much, Kaminari. This means a lot to me and Y/N. I owe you one."

"No problem at all, Todoroki. Just glad I can help out. I'll let you know when the stream is up and running," Denki replied, his enthusiasm evident in his voice.

With a grateful smile, Shoto ended the call, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders.

After some time, Todoroki returned to your shared bedroom with his laptop and a cup of freshly brewed mint. He passed you the cup and turned his computer on and navigated to YouTube.

"What are you doing, Shoto?" you asked, puzzled by his sudden actions as you slowly sat up, wrapping blanket around your shoulder, still feeling a little nauseous.

"Just wait and see," he replied with a small smile, his eyes focused on the screen.

Then, to your surprise, you saw Denki's stream pop up on the screen, the vivid colors of the Aurora borealis dancing across the display.

"Is that…?" you started, but Shoto cut you off with a nod.

"Yeah, it's Denki. He's streaming it live for you," he said softly, his eyes meeting yours with warmth and understanding. "I asked him if he could do that, and he agreed instantly. It's handy having a friend who's a YouTuber," Shoto chuckled softly.

As the night sky painted itself in shades of violet, teal, and emerald, the ethereal dance of the Aurora Borealis began. The camera panned slowly, capturing every mesmerizing movement of the celestial phenomenon. The colors shifted and swirled, creating intricate patterns that seemed to come alive before your eyes. As the stream continued, the intensity of the auroras seemed to grow, casting an enchanting glow over the landscape below. Trees swayed gently in the breeze, their branches silhouetted against the shifting colors of the sky. Occasionally, a shooting star streaked across the heavens, adding an extra touch of magic to the already mesmerizing scene.

The chat buzzed with excitement as viewers shared their awe and wonder at the natural spectacle, asking Kaminari for his opinion as well.

You couldn't believe it. The beauty of the phenomenon filled you with awe, and tears welled up in your eyes as you realized what Shoto had done for you. "Shoto, I don't know what to say," you whispered, overcome with emotion.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. "You don't have to say anything," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I just wanted you to experience this, even if you couldn't be there in person. You mean everything to me, and I'll always go the extra mile to make you happy."

#emergency request #bnha x reader #shoto fluff #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x you #mha fluff #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto todoroki #shoto fic #shoto x reader #todoroki shoto #shoto x you #shoto x y/n #mha fic #bnha fluff #todoroki shouto #shouto x reader #shouto todoroki #shouto fluff

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ramp-it-up · 2 days

Text

II Most Wanted Part VI: Came Out of Nowhere

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"

Summary: Will it be church, or another kind of worship this Sunday morning? 😏

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, SINNING ON A SUNDAY MORNING, some Fluff, a tiny bit of Angst, talk of being physically uncomfortable after vigorous sex, voice/dirty talk kink. Thigh riding, nipple play, manual sex, squirting, oral sex (female recieving), fine dining, anal play, talk of anal sex, size kink, slight choking, graphic depiciton of sex. This was meant to be a drabble but it got away from me. This gets nastyyyy. And I'm proud of it. :) Happy Mother's Day for all of those who care for another human. 😘

Read at your own risk. Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N: This is the sixth installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Previous part here

----------

Sy woke up the next morning, elated that you were warming the bed next to him. Your hair had come out of the towel and was an unruly halo around your head; he had to be sure to get some satin pillowcases, he thought.

He smiled as he gazed at you, excited about his dreams of you coming back to him after this weekend. Sy’s heart was hopeful.

Last night you’d said you wanted to spend the night with him, and the way you smiled at him as you drifted off to sleep, after telling him that he’d ruined you, was like a gift from heaven. Truth was, you’d ruined him, the way your screams echoed off the walls of his house. He was addicted to that sound.

And he wanted to hear it for the rest of his life.

Sy must have stared at you sleeping for over an hour after the sun rose. As much as he wanted you to profess your undying love for him, he didn’t want to pressure you. He wanted you to be his of your own free will, not out of any obligation, but couldn’t keep his hands off you, and he couldn’t keep his mind from making plans for the future.

He knew he was chipping away at the wall around your heart, but he didn’t have much time left. There had been a lot of water under the bridge, and you had to be sure that you wanted to cross it.

He’d waited 20 years, he could wait a little longer. He had hope.

He concentrated on enjoying the moment. You were tangled up in the sheets, no makeup, hair disheveled, and more beautiful than ever.

“You’re a creep, you know that?”

Your sleepy voice did things to him.

“How’s that, darlin’?”

Sy gathered you in his arms as you turned around and stretched, poking your ass toward him and your breasts out as you yawned.

“Watching me sleep. Probably listening to my snores and watching me drool. Creep behavior. Hahahaha, stopppp!”

You giggled as Sy tickled you lightly on your bare stomach. You turned around and punched him on the shoulder. But you were smiling a mile wide.

“It was a beautiful sight. Almost as beautiful as you in the shower, or you bent over for me, or the way your pussy—”

“Speaking of God.”

You cut Sy off and he laughed.

“We gotta get up. I have to go get my church clothes.”

Sy groaned, pulled you close and started kissing your neck.

“You’re playing around now, Buttercup. We could stay in bed all day, I can eat, then make you breakfast…”

You squirmed in his grip, enjoying his hands on you.

“You’re the one that’s playing, Sy.”

Sy’s eyes came back up and his eyebrow arched as he slowly slid down your body.

“You’ve broken my box, Jacob.”

Sy stopped what he was doing.

“Not the government name. Okay. You must be serious.”

He came back up to look into your eyes.

“Are you okay?”

The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt you.

You looked him in the eye. His care and consideration was the sexiest thing. You wanted him. You needed him.

“I’m more than okay, Sy. This weekend has been… I’m good.”

Sy kissed your lips tenderly and suddenly you felt like a china doll that wanted to be broken. But now you just had a view of Sy’s muscular back and was as he went into his closet and came back out with gray sweatpants slung low on his hips.

You bit your lip but Sy just smirked at you and said, “Let’s get a move on.”

—---

Sy was a gentleman and made you eggs and coffee, refraining from doing anything more to you than kiss you on the cheek. It was driving you crazy, making you only want him more. But you couldn’t go back on what you said. The looks, though.

The looks you and Sy exchanged as you drove back to your air bnb were enough to set the world on fire. You had a new plan for the morning as you pulled up to your place.

Sy relaxed in one of the armchairs in the small bungalow as you busied yourself with getting ready, and after you’d finally tamed your hair and walked out of the bathroom to put on your jewelry and finish getting ready, Sy raised his eyebrow when he saw you. He watched you closely as you sauntered over to the closet in front of him and gave him the back of you as you leaned over to put on your black strappy heels from the other night.

You straightened up and turned, giving him your profile as you smoothed the dress down and looked in the mirror. Sy noticed that you were still glistening from the body oil you’d just applied, and your black jersey shirtdress wasn’t buttoned all the way up. He could clearly see some side boob. The way the dress was clinging to your ass made him question if you were wearing panties, since you clearly weren’t wearing a bra.

Sy remained silent as he took you in. He was perfectly content to pray at the altar of you today, his goddess. If you really did intend on going to church, God might just strike him dead for the thoughts he’d be thinking.

When you glanced at him in the mirror and did a double take as you put on your earrings, he knew he had you. He stared at you and licked his lips, silently telegraphing his intent.

Your almost imperceptible sigh told him everything he needed to know.

Sy inclined his head and you walked over to him. You stood between his outstretched khaki covered legs as he lounged in the armchair in the combined living/sleeping area of the small rental. His long arms allowed him to grab the back of your knee and pull you to him as he slid his hand up your thigh.

His gruff voice shook your soul.

“The way you look in that dress is causing some unholy thoughts, Buttercup. Don’t know how we’re gonna make it to church.”

You smiled down at Sy, a strange feeling snaking around your heart. You smiled wider as you realized it. Yes. He was yours. And you wanted it to be so.

Your eyes flicked down to his crotch.

“What? Can’t keep it in your pants for a couple of hours Sy? It’s for a good cause.”

Sy palmed the ridge of his cloth covered cock and stared up at you adoringly.

“I just want to worship you, darlin.’”

He ran his hand up the backs of your thighs as you suppressed a smile. His eyebrow arched again as he reached your unclothed ass. He palmed your bottom in his hands as he pressed his nose into your crotch.

The way he looked up at you was everything, and you ran your hand through his curls, messing it up from its carefully arranged state.

Sy stood up, and you put your arms around his shoulders because you were weak in the knees.

“Changed my mind, Sy. Want you to ruin me some more…”

You breathed it into his mouth as he watched your lips form the words. And that was all that he needed before he pressed his body into yours and slid his fingers into your freshly coiffed hair.

“I can’t resist you, Buttercup. And I’d much rather spend time inside you than inside a stuffy building full of hypocrites. The sacrament is between me and you.”

Your lips met in a practiced dance and your tongues spoke things without words. Your hands were underneath his polo, teasing his nipples that you knew were sensitive and Sy pulled away to bring it over his head, grabbing the belt of your dress as you took it in your hands. He gathered you toward him by it and slipped his hand into your cleavage, weighing your breast and rolling the hard nipple in his fingers.

“Every part of you is so beautiful, Buttercup. I love you so much.”

He lowered himself back down to the chair, all the while keeping your gaze and puts his hands back on your thighs. Next thing you knew, you were on his lap, ruining his dress pants as you ground against him, your nipple in his mouth as he suckled you as if he was trying to draw out your life force.

Your head was thrown back, and you peered down at his rosy lips pursed around the stiff and aching bud in his mouth. It was almost too much to witness, and you felt your wetness spread against the fabric of his pants.

“Ohhhhh, ssssssssss. Yes, Sy, Baby… yes….”

Sy smiled around your nipple at the pet name, and reached his hand under the skirt of your dress, palming your clit and sliding a finger inside your embarrassingly wet and hot cunt. He released your nipple with a pop, and grinned up at you as you whined.

“Fuck, Buttercup, I’ve been so excited to finally be with you, I didn’t pay enough attention enough to how much you like me lovin’ on your tits. But I’ve caught up now. We only have one more day, and I’ve got a lot to learn…”

He whispered up into your face, flexing his huge thigh as you undulated, your dress riding up around your waist. You groaned and grabbed his face as he palmed the globes of your ass and kissed you. You were definitely ruining his pants now.

“Shit, Buttercup, I swear I can feel your clit throbbing through my pants. So fucking hot. Where d’ya want me, hunh?”

His hungry mouth traveled down your neck, collarbone and chest, finally arriving again at a nipple, tongue snaking out to taste, only to abandon it again to shrink in on itself against the cool air that he blew on it next.

You moaned again as his warm mouth closed against the tight bud, sucking with increasing intensity until you arched your back, pushing more of your flesh into his face. His hand reached your other breast and clutched it, rolling your other pointed peak against his palm, causing a slight delicious burn on your skin.

“Sy… I- I love your mouth…”

Your eyes were cast down, so he grabbed your chin to make you look at him.

“You want me to eat you out?”

Sy quickly switched nipples, after asking his question, laving and blowing on the hot one to cool it down.

“Ughhhhh, yes, please, Sy… ever since you mentioned it this morning.”

Sy talked you through it as he pushed and pulled you on his thigh and played with your nipples.

“Why didn’t you tell me then, Buttercup? I could still be eating you out in my big ol’ bed.”

He started sucking the other nipple as you looked down on him and pulled his curls when you answered, your head thrown back.

“I– oh shit, Sy! Hunh, hunh…. “

You licked your parched lips as he ministered to your breasts.

“I wanted to come get a change of clothes. Wanna spend… some time... Fuckkkkk, Sy!”

He watched you as he switched up, again and again, until you were a writing mess. He pulled off of your wet nipples and run two fingers around one pebbled areola, his gaze hot on your skin.

“Syyyyyyyy,” you sigh-gasped as you watched him lean over and take your nipple in his mouth again, this time through his fingers. When those blue eyes looked up at you, you almost came.

His hand moved, but his mouth didn’t as he found your needy clit, and began circling it with his wet fingers.

“Tell me what you wanna do Buttercup?”

He was as out of breath as you were as he watched you come undone.

“I-I– oh fuck. I want to spend the rest of the weekend at your place, Sy.”

Sy moaned, your words having the effect that his hands were having on you.

“You telling me that you’re mine, for the rest of this time, Buttercup?”

Your head was thrown back again, and his hand was sliding toward your neck as your hips moved faster on this thigh.

“Yes, Sy! Yes, I’m yours…and not just for the weekend…oh my god!”

The freedom of admitting it just came out of nowhere, and suddenly, your thighs started shaking and you soaked his trousers, biting your lip as he extended your orgasm with his fingers on your clit and nipple.

“That’s what I’ve wanted to hear for s’long, Baby.”

Sy was slurring his words, drunk on you. And he wasn’t even inside you. Yet. He held you close, as you wrapped around him like a vine, rubbing your back as you came down.

“Then let’s get you packed up and gone. You’re at my place until tomorrow.”

His voice was gruff as he guided your hips until you were standing up, your legs unstable as he rose in front of you. You shakily made your way over to the nearby vanity and lean on it as Sy made his way behind you and looked at you in the mirror.

“Who am I kidding Buttercup? I’m not leaving here until I see you cum at least one more time.”

Sy’s hands snaked around you, wrapping you up and pulling you close to him so you could feel his hardness in your back. He held your gaze in the mirror as you witnessed him leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“I love you. So much, Buttercup.”

Your eyes closed and you leaned your head back on his chest as his hands reached into and under your dress, bunching it up, but you were beyond care. He skirted two fingers into the wet split of you and plunged them inside you, only to bring them out much quicker than your liking. His dripping fingers ran your clit between them, and you moaned each time his passing knuckles pinched it tighter.

“All this is for me, huh? How’d I get so lucky?”

Sy was rolling your nipple with the other hand, and your mouth was open, gaping at what he was doing to you. He leaned down and sucked your pulse point as he tuned you to his preferences.

Your hands splayed on the counter as you tried to ground yourself from the electric pleasure he was giving you, but Sy’s voice won’t let you do that.

“That’s my good little Buttercup. So so good, letting me…godamn you’re so wet… letting me have my way with you.”

He breathed heavily into your ear.

“I want what you want, Baby. Want to eat you out again. From behind. Need to shove my tongue up your ass and have some fine dining. Maybe we do need to go to church. Might need to pray for your man, Buttercup, because they wouldn’t let me in, what I’m thinking of doing to you, Buttercup. Wanna train your ass, wanna slip my cock in there and make you cum so hard. But that’s not holy. Is it?”

“H-h- holyyyyyy shittttttttt, Sy!!!!!”

You whined, your body dripping onto the floor. Sy felt it and got down on his knees to witness it.

He kissed your ass, then kneaded it, kissing, licking, and biting as he slowly opened you up to him.

“Make me so fucking hard for you. So godam pretty. Everywhere. Make me wanna kiss you all over.”

Sy licked into you, tracing his tongue over your puckered hole.

“Fuck Sy.”

“Yeah? You want it? Want my cock in this hole?”

Then he circled it with his tongue, making you feel as if you would pass out. You whimpered and bit your lip, a tinge of fear making your heart race even higher.

Sy read your mind.

“You can take it Buttercup. Like a good girl. Promise you’ll be begging for it.”

And then Sy licked and suckled his way into the deepest parts of your soul.

“Sy!”

You could hardly say his hame as your body pounded with pleasure again.

“You’re right, Buttercup. Nee’ ‘ore ti.”

Need more time.

He tongue fucked you in the most indecent way as he tried to speak to you. It was the hottest thing ever. He pulled off as his finger took over, because he wanted to make sure that you heard him good.

“I’d need at least a day for you to wear a butt plug.”

He said it wistfully as he traced two fingers through your sopping wet folds.

“I’m thinking stainless steel, heavy, and with my initials engraved on the end.”

The way you clenched at that image and your silence made him smile and you heard his belt coming undone. You dripped down his hand, and you looked back to see Sy licking his fingers.

“Yeah, at least 6 hours (don’t know if I could take much more than that) and then you’d be good and gaping for me, Buttercup.”

Sy’s finger found its way into your tightness, and he leaned forward to suck your clit as you raised your thigh onto the counter. He stopped again and you almost screamed. Then you noticed his cock in his hand, angry red and leaking head disappearing and reappearing rapidly. You gave him the moan of his dreams as his blue eyes met yours.

“I’d make you cum, at least twice, and you’d be ready for me to slip this in. Wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Sy! Give it to me now!”

They way Sy’s jaw clenched was the thing that put you on the edge of nirvana.

“Don’t…”

The man growled. Then he looked up at you.

“Now’s not the right time. Cum on my face. Wanna drink you up.”

And he licked and slurped his way to victory, earning a close up view of you raining down on him. After you’d finished, He quickly stood up and started jacking his cock on your ass, squeezing it so that he could view the object of his focus.

“You said I broke your box earlier, Buttercup…”

His heart was literally beating out of his chest.

“....FUCCKK! Just let me… just let me cum on this tight little….ughhhhh!

Your clit pulsed again as you felt his hot cum on your asshole, and you reached down to bring yourself home again.

“Fuck yes, Butercup YESSS!”

You watched Sy’s lurid look of lust in the mirror as he watched your hole wink at him through his spend.

“Good god woman!”

He looked up at you and grinned in the mirror.

Then he smirked.

Because now it was your turn to be on your knees.

——

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pervcoded · 1 day

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DOG-EARED AND DOUBTFUL starring yuuji itadori. part iii.

──☆*:・ﾟcontent warning: amab!reader (referred to as a boy), canon divergent, college au (18+ characters) inside of the hybridverse. artist!reader, sukuna is related to yuuji. awkward meet-cute, but yuuji is implied to be (and is) slightly unhinged. reader is human and yuuji is a doberman hybrid. fluffy, safe for work-ish. nude modelling. bashful , sorta pushover reader. reader has a stutter. invasion of privacy (yuuji goes through your sketchpad and gets comfortable fast). british use of trousers (pants) and pants (underwear). scent stuff going on, yuuji has a good nose. yuuji is sorta feral and reader's not in a position to (nor does he quite want to) argue. mdni! reblogs and comments appreciated!

wc: 4.2 words.

It’s beautiful, truly. Yuuji is admittedly philistine in his artistic taste, never had a muse for it; but he finds himself wholly appreciative of the opportunity to become yours- even if it’s only for the evening. He can’t control the way his tail wags, heart pattering quicker in his chest as the excitement overrides his previously projected aloofness, his hands moving faster than his mind in that moment. One more page wouldn’t hurt.

You’re just like any other boy in class, really. Maybe the round ears and lack of fur are a bit of a weird look, but Yuuji wasn’t popular when he first transferred to the university either - and some change is always good, he thinks.

“And your tongue—is it really that small?” Someone had asked on your first day in, your classmates ogling your skin, analyzing its novel texture. You’re good at acting nonchalant when you’re placed on the spot. Tone even, eyes level, posture loose and relaxed as you fold your arm over the back of your chair. You’re smarter than they’d ever give you credit for—laughed along with their jibes so they wouldn’t see how gently you swayed. Trembled. The claws of some touchy Wolverine mutt glancing at your collarbones, and you laughed it off, never once minding the sweat cascading down the apex of your temple.

But your scent is disloyal to you. He never thought to mention it. The sour notes of tangerine, key lime, crescendo in the spot where you stand, a heady cocktail of anxiety and embarrassment and horror.

You’re quite popular for a human, however. Maybe that was your conventional appeal. Or rather stood next to them you stick out like a sore thumb, and that makes you far more interesting—purely by virtue of your association. But Yuuji likes to think you have your own redeeming qualities too. You’re an artsy type. Try and spend a lot of time by yourself if you can manage, but your peers seem intent on laywaying your silence; coveting your time like shiny trinkets in a magpie’s nest.

Still, you’re nice to him.

You remember his name. Say “Itadori, hi,” and give him a solemn nod before going on your way. You give him your leftovers you don’t want if your class schedules happen to line up that day. You share your notes from Anthropology, and sketch him in the margins of your notebook on the days you can’t focus.

The patience of hybrids doesn’t often extend to their own kind, and Yuuji’s felt terribly lonely since his grandfather passed - what with his uncle not being much in the way of making conversation. But you’re easy to talk to.

“Ah, Itadori, can you come here?” His tail wags a little at the acknowledgement, but if you notice you failed to comment. “Uh, yeah? What’d you want? I’m a little busy right now, so,” He smiles half-heartedly, suddenly a little uncomfortable to be seen with you like this. You move your stuff away from where you want him to sit at the table, and his eyes are acutely drawn to each movement of your hands. Gathering up runaway pencils, stacking textbooks. “You can call me Yuuji, by the way. I don’t mind.”

Your face lights up at that, and you tell him your name in kind. He tries it. Once for his pleasure. Again to make sure he got it right. He looks back down at the now emptied table, though he doesn’t go to take a seat.

Your lunch is sparse. Two pieces of bread with peanut butter and something else sandwiched in the middle. A browning apple eaten to the core. He thinks about mimicking the impressions of your teeth.

“Ah, well, I know we don’t talk and um - I’m still kinda new here and - please, you can sit,” Your hand fans out to gesture at the chair in front of you, and Yuuji settles into it uneasily. He can smell you’re afraid of something.

“Yuuji…” You tap your pencil on something he can’t see, draped over your thigh. “I.. wanted to draw you.” Yuuji tilts his head, finger absently reaching towards his chin. “Me?” “Yeah. It’s for an art assignment. We’re practicing portraits.” Your smile is disarmingly charming. “If it was okay with you, I wanted to see if… we could find some time to—y’know. Have you model for me.” Yuuji doesn’t let himself get excited so quickly, the hair on his forearm bristling a bit as he digs his nails into his thigh. Keep it from bouncing. “Okay. Yeah. Sure - that’s fine. I’d love to.” Yuuji sounds like he’s speaking through grit teeth, but his expression doesn’t expose anything other than slight apprehension. You sigh, a weight seemingly lifted off your shoulders. “Oh! Okay!” You try not to sound too happy about it, but a smile keeps weaseling onto your face. “Okay so, we’d have to book one of the art rooms, but that shouldn’t be too hard—nobody really lingers around after class. Lucky us, right?” You’re fishing your phone out of your pocket, and Yuuji nearly forgets to grab it with his unbloodied hand.

“Here. Add your number, take a photo if you’d like.” You’re teasing, but Yuuji never was good with sarcasm. He smiles big and wide for it, pointed teeth all in the front row.

He saves his name as ‘Yuuji 😎’, and hands your tech back to you. You send a quick ‘hey’ to make sure you got the right number. When his pocket rumbles he’s off no later, barely waving goodbye as he leaves you to your own devices.

You text out the details later. Tomorrow, at 7:00.

He gets there at 6:56 on the dot. Campus has been largely deserted this time of day, and the few stragglers left, student and faculty, each flock to their club space or the odd, afterhour meeting. You’re all set up by the time he’s there. You’re well-prepared, graphites and eraser shavings finding a home on the floor around you. Sticks of pastels lie short and chipped on the easels mantle, your fingertips already blackened by charcoal. This wing is new to him, but the hallways look just like this rooms walls. Student made murals scaling taller than him, ferals unfurling across the unorthodox canvas; a magnificent sky. Ceramic busts settle atop storage cabinets; baked and glazed vases filled with paper flowers, tucked into empty corners. Paintings hung to dry. Thick ink stains as he sidesteps a rolling chalkboard, gently pushing it to the side.

You glanced up when the door opened, but it was more reflexive than comprehending. You saw him, then looked back at the canvas, focused. Only when he nearly stumbles do you look back up again, and you’re smiling really wide. You wave excitedly. “Hey Yuuji!” His ear twitches near imperceptably, tail high and wagging. “Hey.” He’s decent at acting, if you think he’s faking casual you don’t mention it, just gesture to the seat beside you. The chair you saved for him has tall legs and a strong, straight back; perfect for a model.

“Well, you can take this chair when you’re ready,” he’s taking a peak at the easel sat in front of you, identical setups matching yours haphazardly set up around a squat stage in the center of the room.

Your sketchpage: marked with vague gestures and dancing, people-like shapes. You’ve been practicing. You absently tug at your collar at the lack of distance between you two (forgot you were using charcoal, so you quickly stop) and a strange aura radiates from you, the smell of frayed nerves stinging his nose. His tail lulls in its movement, a tad disappointed you weren’t as comfortable with him as he thought you were.

“For a portrait, you being closer is ideal, so we don’t h..have to use the stage. I’ll just do my thing over here and… Oh! I brought some water and um, snacks.” You tilt your head in a familiar, curious motion, ”You like shrimp chips?”

He shrugs at you and smiles. “They’re okay.” He’s flattered you considered him, mostly. He really did like that about you humans, such soft and compassionate creatures; moreso than any of the hybrids he knew. Where they-mournfully, himself included-took a unique pleasure in watching another squirm, your kind wasn’t like that at all, were they? Perhaps an underdeveloped survival mechanism. A tail to tuck in the presence of a predator’s bared fangs. Regardless, your grin crinkles the corners of your eyes and makes his heart soar, your anxiety easing out as you stand from your seat, revealing your true smell. Heat and sweet and pastry-light; a creme bruele after the top has been carefully cracked open. Tickles his cheeks pink.

“So, how long you been doing this art stuff for anyway?” You seem startled by the ask and pause before you answer, probably not used to being asked about your interests by the other hybrids. “Years now. E..ever since I was a kid I always liked art, drawing-” You curse as something rolls out of your bag and say sorry to nothing and no one. “Drawing, traditional, digitally. I was thinking about going into graphic design! - I’m still technically undecided, but I love art… It just calls to me, you know?” Oh, he has no fucking clue what you’re talking about. But he hums in the affirmative and reckons now’s a good a time as any to check. Take a peek through your lens and see the shape of your artisan mind. An artist’s sketchpad to him seemed the appropriate equivalent to their soul; so he takes the opportunity to flip through the pages on your drawing pad.

He’s admittedly expecting something grander. Maybe the inside of an old world colosseum or perhaps something abstract and profound, the kind of things disheartened schoolchildren write essays about; A Great Wave or Thinking Man, befitting of the brand of mystery he’d superimposed on you. Nothing suitably miraculous happens. The task merely becomes more intimate by virtue of your artistic repertoire. Surely, not the fault of his plain nosiness.

All flesh upon the paper is laid entirely bare. Inscriptions of bodies wrap around the canvas from the top to the very bottom like the prayers in a holy book. Any free tarp is not spared, a bared torso and breast here, the sole of a foot en point over there. Largely unfinished yet tangible, beginnings and inbetweens and many more ends; scores of tails, teeth, tongue and claws. “Oh, wow.” You’re still digging through your bag so you don’t mind him, preoccupied second guessing kneaded erasers and rags to wipe your creativity off on.

To describe your work as a product of mere fascination would be a woefully inaccurate assessment. Not a proper acknowledgement of your time, effort, sweat, (more than a few smudges in the graphite, a whiff of salt that sticks out above the rest) and conviction.

There’s quick notes scribbled between poses and observations, some names - none of which he immediately recognizes, but makes his head fog with some vague posessiveness regardless. Jealousy maybe. He doesn’t linger on it, instead flipping to the next page. Bodies more and more bodies, some without heads; long torsos; hips; thighs and legs and asses,

Lips, mouth wide open, teeth and tongue presenting. There’s a notable lack of vulgarity to the images. A seemingly clinical observation of how the parts move, some independent of the others; but when it all comes together…

One more page wouldn’t hurt. (It’s just admiration he’d say, when the real reason he’s so riled up is because he’d been hoping for this moment; all his anxieties of pursuing you assuaged by your apparent obsession for him- er- hybrids like him—can’t get ahead of himself just yet—) His fingers move with deft purpose.

You come back with a whole bag of stuff; chips, ramune, what smells like pocky, but he’s not looking towards you as you return. Surely, you think, a blank page can’t be that interesting, and you’re right; that’s not what he’s staring at.

He’s found your page.

Your life drawing class encourages you to practice still lifes in your free time. There aren’t many hybrids tripping over themselves to be ogled by a human - some models even abject to posing in the room while you’re there - so when the opportunity presented itself to observe something more than a picture, someone else, removed from your wheedling peers, obviously you lept for it.

You’d grown tired of drawing yourself.

“Ah, Yuuji-” Your inhale quick and sudden, the sharp clatter of a glass bottle twitching him out of his stupor. You stiffen up when he looks back at you despite his brevity (because he is just fascinated with your canvas all the sudden), your hands flapping anxiously as you step close, you’d collapse in on yourself if you had the option. “Um wait, please! That’s private!”

You are deeply gifted. He doesn’t have to stare it like he did the other ones cause he recognizes it as you so immediately. (Letting his eyes wander all those times seems to have payed off). Recognizes the arch and swell of your muscles, the slope of your back and the softness of the dimples in your hips, the gentle curve of your -

A hand darts over the artistic nudity before he can fully commit it to memory, and you shout: “Yuuji! I got the snacks, okay? Just- we can get started now,” He can’t read the expression on your face as you reset your canvas and flip to a blank page. He desperately tries to meet your eye; but your gaze is leagues away. An inkling of some base, carnal attraction blooms in his chest; your unwitting submission appealing to some feral hindbrain before he recalls your humanity, disappointingly gentle emotions and sensibilities.

He feels sad for you after though it only lasts a moment, his tail drooping pathetically and eyes sagging similarly as the compunction grapples him; and in a frenzied moment of attempting to sooth your shame (smells dull and salty like wood grain) he gets a good idea. According to his standard, anyway. He smiles at you and pants a little. His finger is digging into his collar at an angle, tugging up; in demonstration.

“If you want me to get naked, I really wouldn’t mind!” His whip tail thud-thuds into your easel. “Excuse me?” You initially abject, dumbfounded. Your face feels warm and your skin tingles, the blood in your cheeks stinging it darker, body tensing up. “W-why would you..? I..I wouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. I-it’s a, well - Portraits are mostly sup..supposed to be your face, so, getting naked? Really not necessary,”

He’s already taking his sweater off. “Yuuji, please.” His tail wags a little when you whimper and he has a mind to admonish himself for taking pleasure in such a thing.

“It’s fine, really!” Sounds so easy for him to say, when you’re on the verge of an aneurysm. “I was reading a little about it-” (and hardly did he ever read), “-and apparently, portraits can be half, or full bodies. Well, you’d probably know that better than me anyway.” His voice is dampened by the fabric, but you’re too dazed to notice he said anything. Everything is happening too fast.

He kicks off his shoes and drops trou in your choked silence, your hands tremble as dread wars in your mind and you remain uncertain of where to put them. Nevermind your eyes. The thought of trying to stop him warrs with the concept that having to touch him, see him, will surely kill you. “You seem to draw a lot of hybrids- so I assume you’re already used to seeing us naked? Though I didn’t see a lot of dogs in there…”

The room kicks up a few degrees and your blood simmers beneath your skin, your boundaries bent and bowed as you struggle to figure what happens next. Your shirt feels too, too tight. His is starting to come off. The slow drag of cotton across his body is amplified by the emptiness of the space, at a pace entirely too casual for an impromptu strip tease. “But there’s nothing wrong with trying something new every once in a while, y’know?” He stumbles a little when it’s past his shoulders, self consciously fixing his hair after he’s gotten it slung over his arm.

As if he has anything to be nervous about. He looks at you triumphantly when he’s finished (pants regretfully still on), and he wishes you couldn’t meet his eyes this time; get a good eyeful of how excited he is for you. In what must be respectful to you, you catch his gaze this time, with these big round prey eyes that makes the fur on the back of his arms bristle in the studio’s cool air. A vein in his throat jumps and his pupils dilate, but (too) soon you turn away.

You’ve seated yourself back on your chair and fixed up the workspace, though he has a hard time gauging this new expression on your face. Maybe apprehensive, again? Bashful? You chew your lip with this insistence, bruising the delicate skin there. Your hands move with opposed intention; flattening out the canvas and arming yourself with graphite. “O-kay. Y..you can.. Make yourself comfortable I guess..” He can still smell you, too.

This scent is new. Near cloying and knitting to the inside of his nose as it pours off of you, slight, topping off that twinge of orange peel and grapefruit.

“Okay!” He brusquely shoves past your apprehensions; looking mighty pleased with himself-the dog-the muse’s chair dragging agonizingly against the floor as he goes to set it in place. You do nothing at first. He is seated within seconds and after your hand suddenly is no longer your own, flexed potential in every muscle put to pause in the air, your brows furrowing in newfound frustration.

You don’t look at him, still. Yuuji’s triumph of domination having past, he finds the selfish desire to be observed and admired comes gnawing back to him. He doesn’t want to push you (so he says while shoving you) but he really is going all out. He’d like some of that signature human hospitality back, pretty please? He leans closer.

You get infinitely stiffer and he whimpers. An honest to god beaten doggy whine, and your shock is what finally gets you to look up. He’s far more relaxed than you at present, pouting expression at odds with his slouched posture and occasional pant. His floppy ears tilt open and he momentarily mirrors your wide-eyed wonder. “Finally,” he chirps. ”I was starting to think we weren’t actually friends!” You scoff, still staring saucer-eyed. Your eyebrows go up and down and up, your forehead wrinkles. “You ge-get naked for all your f..friends?” The incredulous twang to your voice wants to read to him like jealousy, but projection is a fickle thing.

Yuuji genuinely thinks about your question, further astounding you. “Well. I guess only for the ones I really like.” The statement is made sincerely, the smile accompanying it darling, and could have perhaps romanticized the situation had you not been a sane-minded human man. The warmth in your face has turned to fire hot heat and you sputter on your words. “I’m fl..flattered. But humans? Don’t do t..this,” you attempt to gesture to the entire situation, “With their friends! This is, frankly, too, too-” You stutter into nothing, the thought dying on your tongue. “Too what? I mean, you don’t smell like you hate it,” he sniffs. “My nose is pretty good! If you-” you dislike the way he stresses the syllable, like you’re special some how, “-were scared, I’d smell that miles away. You have a very strong scent you know? It’s not a bad thing though, don’t worry! At least, it isn’t for me anyway. It makes you feel more.. Genuine.” He hums matter-of-factly, your pencil beginning to tremble above the page. “But aren..aren’t you cold? Or-or something? It’s always freezing-freezing in here!” Yuuji shrugs, ”Aw, it’s no worries really. I sorta run hot, so,”

You knew a lot of things about hybrids. About their keen noses, most gifted with perceptive capabilities beyond that of your kind. Still it feels no better to hear that for despite your subtlety, you never had a chance to evade their prying eyes. You sigh with a shake of your shoulders, and Yuuji takes your silence as an excuse to move closer. “Hey, don’t worry. What’d I say about new things?” You don’t feel terribly reassured, but you nod along for your own sake. “You got an assignment due, don’t you? Just focus on that. Forget Yuuji, focus on capturing..” “The form.” You finish. Yuuji would have said ‘these guns’, but shrugs. “Yeah, that.”

You look at him again, but only now do you truly perceive him, resigned yourself to capturing his image and replacing the blankness on your canvas. Your gaze is sharp and surgical, your pencil connecting with the paper as you change focus between him and it. Him, his infuriatingly cheeky grin and easy-going eyes and loose limbs. This body worthy of envy. Laid bare for you to wrangle and tame, reduce to your second dimension.

You begin to draw.

Yuuji sits in a silence punctuated by the sounds of your scribbles. Upwards stroke, down again; quick curving motions. Stare right at him, into the depths of his soul. Turn away, and sketch some more.

It’s a lot more boring than he’d imagined it. He is very excited you have your eyes on him; don’t get him wrong, but your stare doesn’t possess any of the fullbodied fascination, like he has for you. He almost wished he could give you his nose just so you could smell his pheremones, or his eyes, so you could catch every little jump of his muscles or twitch of the tail. He’d refrain for a few selfish reasons; Your changes in mood. The straightening of your spine and the twitching of your eye after you got a rhythm going. You ditch the graphite, go for the charcoal, and make some bigger shapes, Strikes some fine lines. Stillness comes simply to him, studying you as intently as you are him.

Your movements slow to an inevitable stop after a time, “Okay…” You stare stonily at your canvas. Briefly compare in silence. “I… think I’m finished.” You don’t move away, seemingly taken by your own creation.

He shoots up from his seat and moves close. “You’re no..not gonna put your c..clothes back on?” He looks down at you with his head at an angle, suddenly peered over your shoulder. “You want me to?” Your silence is loud. “Okay then.” He smiles, finally taking a look at your drawing.

The expression you gave him is burrowing and severe. An intense glower that catches even him off guard. An unbidden hunger beneath his eyes accentuated by whisps of charcoal, a pinprick of yellow nestled into his irises. He is in both awe of it and horrified that is how you saw him. How he truly was. You define the slant of his collarbones after the fact, rounding out the muscle of his pecs. You sketch and erase, sketch and erase under his curious eye, sketch. Your palette grows. Swirled into colorless grey by your finger, pencil replaced by your finger. You draw without a model, so he no longer sees the point in teasing you with his nudity. Forgive him for expecting something more dramatic- he’s been reading too much manga, surely…

He gets dressed slow and gets as close as possible to your face whenever he has a question.

“Is art always this boring?” He whispers close to your ear and you shiver. “M..maybe if you’re not the one…the one drawing. This.. I-I’m having fun, actually.” He tuts at you, “You need to teach me how to draw then. Next time when we do this, I can take a crack at drawing you!” His clawed finger crawls down your shoulder, you sweat a little under his attentions.

“Y..yeah,” you swallow. “Maybe..” He smiles cooly as he eases back into the seat opposite you. “I just don’t think it’s fair you get to have the fun all to yourself, y’know?” You shoot him a look, lip pursed. “A-a lot more people would be more … excited about getting a free portrait.”

“Well, a lot more people would be more excited about getting to see me half naked.” Practically naked, to be a precise as possible. Your exasperation beats out your nervousness and you’re no longer afraid to set your brows with attitude, scoffing in irritation. Like he knows how you feel. The sheer restraint you’re exercising. How adamantly you will not allow this to get out of hand; you will not allow yourself to do something you'll regret- “G..get them to draw you, then!”

“Nah.” He drags his chair closer, but it’s not casual like before. Now the oxygen feels stuffier. Hotness that makes the air thicken and drag you down, a heat that blazes too close to your ears and seemingly makes the air tremble before you. You look toward him, not knowing what to expect (but twitching, aching for it).

His tongue runs over his canines in a raw, animalistic fashion, the deep pools of his amber eyes threatening to drown you beneath their surface. “I don’t like them nearly as much.”

all content written by me @pervcoded is owned by me, and you are not allowed to repost or translate my works. don't put my shit into ai generators, don't steal my shit and put it on wattpad. thank you.

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808airsoftbros · 2 days

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Vampire Kiss of Life's Reaction to you Getting Hurt

Julie Han (Alpha)

Big. Big. Big Mistake

Attacking an Alpha's husband especially if it's mating season is the equivalent of signing one's death wish and Miss Julie Han is no exception and is very unforgiving

Julie wouldn't love anything more than to rip the fool into shreds but first, she'd want to send them a final message before they die and feel nothing but dread and fear

But the most important part is that you are safe and ensure you are healthy and all wounds are treated if you sustained any

Would you be traumatized witnessing Julie rip apart the perp? Nope, Julie isn't a monster to let you see that and would likely tell you to stay in a safe hiding spot

"Mama? What happened?" Your innocent-self asked

"Oh, don't worry sweetie, that bad man won't hurt you any longer and I won't allow anyone to do so again, now come along sweetie~,"

Natty (อานัชญา สุพุทธิพง��์) (Enforcer)

Oh boy... If anyone dares to hurt you in any way, Natty wouldn't hesitate to confront the perp and would ensure something like this wouldn't happen again

If they're are lucky enough that Natty is in a good mood, she might spare their life but not without several broken bones

Natty's super vampire strength can easily snap a human in half like a twig and lucky them that Natty is wise to know her own strength

But after she was done with them, Natty would constantly keep you close to her at all times and demands you to check up with her every now and then if she isn't around

"Come to mommy darling and I'll keep you safe and I promise nobody will be able to bother or hurt you when I'm around~,"

Belle (Shim Hyewon) (Blood Sister)

Belle is completely obsessed and possessive when it comes to you and you are the only thing that comes to her mind so you can imagine how she'll feel when someone lays their dirty fingers on you

She'd be livid and angry beyond the levels she never imagined in her life, Belle would nearly lose control of her emotions because she would feel at fault because she wasn't strong enough to prevent this

Belle would blame herself for failing you and worst of all, her sisters would be greatly disappointed but that was just overthinking thankfully and will handle the situation with pure elegance with a hint of blood

But what's more important to her is that you're safe and breathing, wounds will heal with proper treatment and Belle would go as far as make an example out of them

"Come near my precious baby and you all suffer the same fate as him..."

Won Haneul (Youngest Blood)

Oh boy, Haneul... How should I put this? Haneul is one of the most dangerous and powerful maknae Vampires in the sisterhood and she certainly won't take shit from anyone

Haneul takes her duty of being your wife and mother seriously just like her older sisters and has sworn to protect you from any dangers

She loves you to death and will do anything to ensure you're comfort and happiness so to see someone laying their hands on you is something that will surely make her infuriated with fiery rage

Haneul would chase them down if she has to letting one of her older sisters look after you while she was gone and will deliver a painful death to the person

"This is what you deserve for hurting my little angel and Hell has a special place for you..."

#kpop #kpop idol #kpop gg #bxg #x male reader #vampire au #kpop scenarios #kiss of life #kiss of life julie #kiss of life natty #kiss of life belle #kiss of life haneul #won haneul #kiof #haneul #shim hyewon #julie han #kiss of life headcanons

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kit-williams · 2 days

Text

Golden Apotheosis

My turn to finally introduce a Sentience Custode of my own! However, with a twist! Ya'll remember that Shard I made with @sculptorofcrimson and @bispecsual? Well I'm introducing a stand in for her in husbandry... and don't worry the boy in this fic is a stand in for Valdor (or maybe you should worry).

Please big thanks to @bispecsual for also beta reading

Enjoy

WORDCOUNT: 6524

@egrets-not-regrets @liar-anubiass-blog @barn-anon @bleedingichorhearts @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@ms--lobotomy

Thank @squishyowl for the dividers

tw: Nudity, blood, death (very much on brand with 40k so far) POV shifting

The blood that ran down her naked body was still warm. Aurora trembled with fear as she knew she was destined to die today... there was a horrifyingly calm acceptance of that fact that ran through her. She opened her mouth to breathe and spit out blood that leaked into her mouth. She was blind as she refused to open her blood covered eyes as her arms were held out by large hands... her long brown hair now stuck to her back as it was heavy with blood and all she could hear was the loud booming voice of the "preacher" Astartis... Aurora felt something placed on her head as it dug into the skin of her scalp and chants and jeers flooded her ears.

Large thumbs swiped over her eyelids allowing her to finally open. Her eyes only briefly scanned the gathered crowd of Astartes as she was dragged to a raised platform and her eyes looked to her cell companion. Aurora didn't blame her even if she apologized again and again for what was going to happen... it wasn't her fault that she was being held hostage to get her Astartis to behave, she learned his name was Ari... Aurora didn't blame Ari either. Her hands were held over her head as she was strapped to a metal pointed wheel, a star of Chaos, she somehow knew... she looked over to her fast friend who was silently crying as she was held by an Astartis in black and gold. The unwilling sorcerer approached, glancing at his human.... glancing to the marine holding his bonded... who gave her a squeeze causing her to scream.

The "preacher" kept speaking as Aurora looked at who she assumed was Ari. His body unarmored as she looked over his face and for a moment when their eyes met she could see the regret in them for a fleeting moment before they hardened as he painted her flesh with symbols that made her mind hurt. His hands soon moved and glowed as his voice took on a double voice melding with his own. She felt her body pulse as warp stuff bled from her brown-gold eyes.

They thought it was fitting given the close resemblance she held to many of the depictions of the Carrion Emperor to give her a golden laurel. Several of them could see it... how swollen her soul was... and with Ari pushing more warp into it... it only made it a better sacrifice.

Ari wanted no part of this... he hated this... he was no human killer! But... but... his human was in danger.

Aurora looked up at the sky and there was silent pain that rushed through her body. Something inside of her was pulsing as, unknown to her, more and more of her soul was forced to take in raw warpstuff. Empowering her and making her ripe for an offering to the gods. She felt like the seams of her entire being were being ripped apart to the point she could no longer take it and she screamed, "SOMEONE HELP ME!" Desperately she screamed as she forced her throat raw.

But within the warp that those fallen Astartes were feeding her soul too... all that was there was the laughter of thirsting gods...

Apollo was falling. He blinked as he was indeed falling as his armor was adjusting and informing him of the calculated time till impact. His bright blue eye behind those ruby red eye lenses twitched around in their socket as he was fed information from several sources. He was about to land in a gathering of Chaos Space Marines... during the middle of a ritual... Perfect timing he thought to himself . Apollo twisted his body like a cat, unhindered by his armor, as he was made to move unnaturally. He arched and his armor braced and readied himself as his hands gripped his Guardian Spear. Where he was... will come later he had to eliminate a cancerous growth first. But, as he fell his eyes glanced towards the altar and a breath before impact his eyes caught gold.

It was a baseline human female covered in blood. On her head rested a mockery of a golden laurel that his Master was fond of. His eyes met hers for a split second and pools of gold-brown looked at him... afraid. Vines of warp like energy akin to some violent xenos flora wrapped and latched onto his soul... he was going to save her... he was going to save her regardless... but he was going to save her... for she looked far too much like Him.

Limbs and viscera exploded outwards as Apollo made impact with a traitor marine. As the smoke cleared it was already far too late for them. Before even the words "Custodes!" could leave the mouth of the traitor that spotted him... a dozen of them were already dead.

Ari's eyes widened as he knew he had only precious seconds... his eyes flicked over to the marine holding his human and all Ari had to do was twitch and their head exploded. She was opening her mouth to scream as Ari flooded his body with the lashing warp to fuel his speed. He needed to out maneuver the Custodes. He was kind enough to cut Aurora free as within breaths he was suddenly by his human as the warp wrapped around the both of them and before Aurora realized it... they were gone. They fell to the forest floor as Ari held his bonded tightly... safe.

However, Aurora was far from safe. She was still in so much danger as she scrambled to her feet after being freed. Her heart was beating wildly as she still felt like she was coming undone and her hands covered her ears as she trembled in pain, a scream ripped from her throat. The warp that had bled into reality whipped around her... it hurt! She was scared! And she poured all of her emotions into the currents around her.

Help me please... a voice in his mind pleaded as the Dread Host, Apollo, cleaved a limb free from the traitor in front of him. He danced between the ruptured metal and dying marines. He violently shoved the bubbling anxiety down, a feeling he had thought he had forgotten how to feel, as his eyes drifted towards the screaming and pained human his mind raced something screamed at him... SAVE HER... SAVERHERSAVEHERSAVEHERSAVEHERSAVEHERSAVEHER he gritted his teeth as something in his mind screamed at him in his own voice... he felt compelled to listen but he twirled watching his Guardian Spear slice through metal like it was butter. "Working on it." He snarled out to himself.

Aurora swayed on her feet as she regained some semblance of steadying herself and made to get away! The Golden Astartes could do that right? What help would she be... though she barely turned to run before a hand wrapped around her throat. Her hands looked so tiny as she tried to pry off metallic fingers from around her throat. The Feral Astartis snarled at her in that dark tongue, it wasn't Gothic, and it made something inside of her hurt. The dark apostle looked toward the custodes being swarmed before rushing off with the half ready sacrifice. It was just a minor setback... he would try again.

Aurora reached out to the golden warrior looking at the red eye lenses on that white faceplate... before she moved out of the camp at a sickeningly fast speed. Apollo's head snapped to the direction of his charge. His mind rapidly did the math at how fast he could get to her. He was finally done playing as his spear ripped open bellies before he turned on his heel like a flamenco dancer as he ran after them. Apollo needed to know why she looked so much like Him. He had joked or, now that Apollo reflects, perhaps in His own way admitted that He had many paramours over the years; both before and after the creation of the Primarchs. Apollo remembers him being young and bold enough to ask, "Should we be expecting any secret children my lord?"

He remembers the faint smile that was only in His eyes and not upon his lips as he ordained to answer Apollo, "No Apollo. I haven't had any in thousands of years."

Aurora was sobbing again, her tears cleaning the sticky blood on her skin, leaving their trails against her lightly tanned skin as she felt the hand around her throat squeeze. She was going to die... she had allowed herself to feel a fleeting sense of hope when he fell from the sky like a golden star... no... there was no golden hero here to save her. She opened her eyes as her brain had trouble registering the golden mass rapidly approaching her as... her brain told her.... it shouldn't move that fast... that smoothly... she felt sick as it moved so smoothly and so quickly that she couldn't register properly the fact he had already grabbed the dark apostle's arm and had already ripped it clean from its socket.

She only registered the sudden fact that she was falling now after a horrifyingly instantaneous sound of screaming metal. All Aurora knew was that at this momentum she was probably going to die if she hit the ground. However she blinked as the sound of leaf litter scattering met her ears as she was pressed up against a golden chest plate as she came to a stop. Her heart was beating like the wings of a hummingbird as her brown-gold eyes darted around. She looked up seeing the white facemask of the golden marine... she looked over her shoulder and could see the other dead on the forest floor.

Apollo watched as those gold-brown eyes looked around and back at his faceplate once more before she started to wildly weep against him. He normally wasn't good at handling their outbursts but he focused on the golden "laurel" on her head tangling with her hair was a bunch of scrap metal twisted and painted. His deft fingers moved it free of her scalp and wickedly tossed it at the dead marine watching the "leaves" sink into his skin. He felt her fingers grip his armor as he moves her, slightly wrapping her naked form in the black cloth he has wrapped around his waist. Apollo had many questions but as she started babbling up at him between her tears he realized he did not understand what she was saying... Apollo like all custodes was well versed in many imperial languages but this... this he did not know. He looked over her body as she was dehydrated and slightly underfed but otherwise she was healthy which soothed something inside of him. Apollo knew he wasn't good with baselines but he did his best to soothe her as now... he had to find his way to civilization.

The local Astartes were scrambling as there was a Custodes, an unknown Custodes, heading their way. Traitor and Renegade Astartes retreated from the immediate vicinity and entered hiding. A Custodes was a force of nature and would rip through a community like a tornado. Those at the wall gained confirmation as this was not one of the few that they knew of which meant this was a recent arrival... an unbonded Custodes. They would make things difficult as only bonded Custodes would allow the tentative truce between the Loyalists and Traitors continue... all by their mercy. So they were dealing with potentially two unbonded Custodes... they prayed to the Emperor and to the Dark Gods that no more were sent.

Apollo looked at the fortifications as he approached them picking up on Imperial Fist architecture mixed with Iron Warrior. His eyes narrowed at the joint project as he knew about the Ultramarine approaching him as his hand held the passed out bundle closely to him. He held his Guardian Spear at his side as the Ultramarine finally spoke, "Noble Custodes." Apollo could hear the accent as an old Mcraggian dialect and given the crusade pattern armor he was wearing... Time Displacement. Apollo theorized.

"Ultramarine." Apollo replied emotionlessly. The human in his arm whimpered softly, twitching slightly.

The Ultramarine looked at the Custodian's legs that were covered in dried blood. However his eyes kept glancing at the passed out human wrapped in the black cape of the custodian, covered in blood. He prepared to speak again but Apollo cut him off.

"When am I." He demanded.

"024.M2." He says automatically. The Ultramarine was surprised at the way the Custodian seemed to move in a way as he took a deep inhale.

"Where are we." Apollo turned to face the Ultramarine now, his grip on the spear becoming a little tighter.

"We are on Terra, my Lord."

Apollo stood there processing the conversation; he's never heard of a large time displacement going backwards. Ancient marines being shot forward in time was more common than not but... it could happen just he has no recollection of anything this severe, "When are you from."

"986.M30, my Lord." Internally the Ultramarine knew he was breaking protocols with these lines of question... they were supposed to ease in new arrivals... but then again this was a Custodes... and they had nothing ready for Custodes.

"I see." Apollo said as the silence before coming at him with, "I also see traitor marines in your midst."

"When are you from, my Lord?" The Ultramarine attempted deflection... Apollo could have killed him for such insolence.

"001.M42." Apollo said with a clipped breath.

"I... I see." The Ultramarine replied.

Apollo could see the micro movements of the armor... could see the way he was inhaling... he was clearly on the vox talking to others. He could order his machine spirit to override their encryptions to have full access to their conversation... but he refrained... for now. He glanced back down to his charge? He hardly was an Aquilian Shield to think of her as a charge but it felt right... a warmth that cradled itself between his hearts. His eyes pulled away and returned to their icy gaze as he looked around his mind playing stratagems of how he would dance between target to target he was confident even with her in his arm that he could kill them all. He had sparred with several Captain-Generals even the greatest of them all, Valdor. He was part of the host that was the Emperor's wrath... he was one of his Master's scalpels... and he saw much cancer to be removed.

"My Lord," Apollo looked to the Ultramarine, "if you will follow me... there is a lot we must inform you about." He started walking and Apollo adjusted his charge in his arms. Her golden eyes opened for a brief moment as the bags under her eyes were heavy... the way her hand shook weakly as she slurred out something in the language he did not know... how she curled against him once more before passing out again.

Apollo's eyes flicked about as they walked through the city seeing the baseline's glance about, none of them wearing any signifying colors that they were serfs or a part of some faction that Apollo knew of. The sky was a crisp blue that he knew few worlds had such a blue sky naturally and he is certain that if the Ultramarine was correct... the night sky might have a number of stars he knew by heart. But his eyes flicked to various windows as Apollo made mental notes of the traitor marines and any "loyalists" that would give him trouble should what they so desperately wanted to tell him... was unsatisfactory.

They approached the base as his eyes flicked to the defenses, far more lacking than what would normally be called for, his eyes flicked to the humans there. Negligible variables in his mind as they would die to simple flicks of his spear and they would be gone. He looked at the approaching Salamander Apothecary sizing them up, "Lord Custodes. I can take the human-" He starts slowly moving his arms to offer to take them.

"Dehydration and the beginning stages of starvation." Apollo says quickly, passing the bundle to the Salamander. He ignored the desire to pull her closer... he ignored the desire to rip her back into his arms... he ignored the desire to keep her close and have her stay with him. His icy blue eyes flicked to the Salamander... he would be a simple bump to cut through should he need to collect her; it would be easy to find her.

He followed the Ultramarine still into a meeting room as Apollo looked at the dozen of marines in the room. He stood like a statue in the doorway looking between each one of them planning out how he would kill each one and how he would move onto the next. When Apollo was satisfied with his stratagem he finally spoke, projecting his voice, "I have been here a total of three hours. And for that entire first hour I spent killing Traitor Astartes." He pauses for a moment, "In the past twenty minutes I have seen Thirty-two more. So gentlemen," He said with almost a snarl in his voice, "Tell me what is so important that should convince me to not start slaughtering you all."

It took them an hour to explain the bare bone basics. Apollo then made them stay an additional four to go into detail on every piece of information. He met with Loyalist "traitor" legion marines... A renegade marine... and one very brave Chaos Space Marine. Apollo processed the information in that painful silence, well painful for the Astartes as he was fine. He finally made a calculated move as he took off his helmet and pinched his brow. Utilizing a disarming technique to lure them into a calm but to express a desire to truly emote.

Apollo calculated the time span was roughly one of a ten thousand years with the earliest they were dealing with was one of the Uncrowned Princes fresh from the Unification Wars to the most recent which was a Primaris marine and himself being the latest to arrive from the Indomitus Era. "I'm satisfied with the explanation." Apollo said as there was a silent collective exhale of relief. "Have one of your Librarians determine if the human I brought in is... bonded to me."

"Yes my Lord." Someone said as Apollo stood up to leave the room.

Aurora feels that she's somewhere else... she's in a bed. She opens her eyes looking at the medical bed she is in as she sits in shock just remembering how she had fallen against her 'hero' as she had been calling him. Her hands began to tremble as... it... it was over? A click and a trill bring her eyes over to molten colored eyes of a large Salamander who is holding his hands open trying to look submissive, "Hello there little one." He says gently.

Aurora wanted to be brave... that she had handled being captured for the past few weeks with some dignity... Aurora wanted to be so very brave but she had accepted that she was going to die in some horrifying way... and tears fell from her brown-gold eyes. She wept as it was finally over... oh god it was finally over! "Shh Shh you're okay." She felt a hand on her shoulder and leaned into the gentle touch as she cried into his offered shoulder.

A nurse would come in eventually as she calmed down and slowly explained her ordeal and Aurora asked with a weak voice, "Can we call my mom? I've... I've been missing for awhile. My college probably called her."

"Of course Aurora. Do you want anything?"

Aurora swallowed softly, "A shower."

Aurora sighed happily as she felt fingers against her scalp. The last time she had been cleaned was in the camp by an Astartis that kept leering and getting too handsy.

"Diana." Another Nurse spoke through the door, "Big guy that brought her in wants to see her with the Librarian."

"Tell them I'm in the middle of bathing her." Her nurse said as she gently rinsed her hair.

The next voice through the door was in Gothic and sounded like an Astartes. Diana spoke it back... sounding more and more annoyed before sighing. "I swear for giants from space or whatever they really don't understand the concept of shame or that people don't like to be naked around them." She looks down at her, "They need to check something and don't want to wait I can-"

"It's fine. Just please... can... can you keep washing my hair." Aurora said with a whimper.

"Of course."

Apollo heard the whimper in her voice through the door as it soon opened as he saw those gold-brown eyes looking at him... there was shame in those eyes. He silently took in a sharp breath as he felt something painful rest between his hearts. His master needed to be taken care of. Each one of the Ten Thousand had done their part in lovingly taking care of Him before and after his placement on the throne. Apollo was no different as his eyes scoured her body... spying spots of blood still in her skin... her hair having knots in it... blood caked under her nails... all accompanying that look of shame in that golden gaze. He felt the deep aching need to be the one washing her hair... "Check." He said softly and quickly breaking himself from more thoughts.

As the librarian gazed into the warp... he did not know what he was looking at. There was a mess of "chains" and "vines" all around the Custodian. Writhing, locking, withering, pulling, coiling, unlocking... in a mess that he couldn't find what he sought. He looked to her and found the "tether" for a bond and followed it back... "Yes. She is your bonded."

Apollo turned away without another word and he threw his weight around to get what he needed as he took a "crash course" in the current local language called English. Once he grasped the basics, the noosphere was opened to him, simply called 'The Internet'. Apollo's mind rapidly took in what he learned as with what he saw made ten thousand year old memories danced across his mind. Cultures of ancient Terra became new again back home... ideas and images that are young or even old here and now cling to life and importance twenty-eight thousand years into the future and even older. Ideas were reused, rediscovered, once more lost, and once again found time and time again.

Apollo keeps watch over his new charge, he was made to kill not to coo at mortals like the Aquilian Shields or the Emissaries Imperatus often did, but he was digesting all that he had learned so far as his eyes looked to his charge and that gnawing in the back of his mind... she looked so familiar. Early the next morning an exhausted looking woman is escorted by the nurse to her room and through the window Apollo watches the two embrace and weep. Aurora, he reminds himself of her name as he replays the conversations she had with him after he saved her before she passed out.

"Captain," He voxes the appropriate leader, "Inform the bases near where she lives that I will be following."

"Right Away."

Aurora felt disappointed that she never got to properly thank 'hero' for saving her. Sure she saw him around but she also saw how everyone walked on eggshells, which would be impressive given how most of them were in that armor of theirs, around him. But she was going to be heading back home as she had found out she was a couple hundred miles away from home and where she was going to college... oh college... she started to think about college again.

"Ow." She is pulled from her thoughts as her mom gives the middle of her forehead a flick as she looks at her confused.

"None of that. I will be taking care of everything until you're ready to go back to college." Her mother said.

"But-"

"Aurora." She felt her mother hold her shoulders, "I have been living in limbo waiting to be told you were found dead. Please let me be the mom?"

Aurora could tell her mom had gotten a bit thinner... she always kept herself together even through the roughest parts of her childhood and she could tell she had taken the news about her being taken... badly. "Okay." She relented and hugged her mom smiling as she felt her kiss the top of her head. Aurora knows she wasn't planned for but her mother never made her feel like, as she put it, an oopsie.

"I'm going to finish up your discharge papers. And then I'm sure the nurse will come get you."

"Can you bring me something to eat?"

"I'll ask the nurses, kiddo." Her mom said before leaving the room and Aurora was left with her thoughts.

However, her eyes caught gold moving outside and she quickly rose out of bed and opened the door seeing 'hero' walking down the hall. "Hey big guy, wait." She called out as she moved towards him, oh sure she shouldn't be out of bed but she didn't want to miss this opportunity. She felt so small standing next to him and looking up at him as he now had a black shoulder cape that she vaguely remembers being wrapped up in... but he was looking down at her. She swallowed and smiled, "I'm probably going to be leaving soon but I've been wanting to thank you so much for saving me." She can't help but rise to the tips of her toes as she says 'thank you' just smiling up at the silent guardian.

Apollo, hidden behind the white faceplate and red eye lenses, felt something wash over him... praise. It was the same sort of warmth that he would get when He praised him. She looked ready to leave at his silence but Apollo placed his hand on her head giving her a gentle pat on the head. He removed his hand to not let strands of her hair get tangled in his servos. She smiled up at him, the smile reaching her golden-brown eyes, and once again that ten thousand year old part of him melted in the same way... that he was eager to get again. She quickly rushed back to her room and Apollo watched that waist length silken brown hair, a shade he knew by heart, sway with each quick bouncy step.

Eventually her life had to keep moving back forward and Apollo watched it all. He watched her blossom back to life, like the spring flowers she often loved to wear in the flower crowns. Her golden-brown eyes glittering with joy and laughter; sparkling in a way that stirred something within him. It made Apollo want to get closer... it made him want to touch her in ways that made him hesitate to get closer for he was disturbed by feeling such desires so intensely.

There were a handful of Custodes here and when they were from were also as varied as the Astartes. But they had a smattering of personalities and how they were handling these bonds... Odysseus; he could tell; was still in mourning and handling the bond with suspicion. Kaeso on the other hand urged him to enjoy it and Apollo bit his tongue when he wanted to remind Kaeso how to behave. However, Kaeso was behaving... behaving how he had been during the Unification wars and the Great Crusade... not to how he was used to him acting since those 'happier' times.

"It's you!" Aurora said excitedly as she looked up at Apollo whose armor was now clean and glittering in the light that fluttered between the leaves. Apollo looked at the crown of cherry blossoms on her head and could not help but think of how similar it felt to a laurel...

"Hello Aurora." Apollo finally spoke to her.

Aurora's eyes widened for a moment as she finally heard the soft masculine voice that came from the helmet, she was used to them having deep voices; and his was still deep compared to a normal human; but it was softer than what she expected. He watched her smile soon after taking steps to close the distance between them. And as she smiled at him Apollo watched the gold in her eyes glitter and glow in seeming approval of him. He took a knee and her smile grew once again, rounding her cheeks, as she bore her teeth in that very human gesture of a grin, even showing her gums slightly. "I am a Custodes. I go by many names each given to me for a deed I have completed. My deeds are numerous and my name long but you may call me Apollo."

Apollo smiled under his helmet as she grinned approvingly at his introduction and it made him feel good, but he didn't know why and part of him no longer cared. "I am your bonded." He stated and he listened to the way her heartbeat lept up as she giggled happily even bouncing slightly to show her uncontained joy at his statement. Even going up to him and giving him a hug. Apollo normally did not like mortals touching him or being close to him, but this felt nice.

Words flowed easy between them and when Apollo removed his helmet he heard her gasp. He felt something inside of him savor the way she held his face watching her eyes dart around his features. Cooing about the freckles that danced from one ear, down to the cheek below his eyes, over the bridge of his nose, and ending at the other ear. She looked over his strawberry blonde hair but it was clear she was enamored with his freckles... but she looked at him in a way he didn't know why but it made him crave for her to look at him more... to hold his face still... to look at him... to be so alive... he couldn't stop seeing his dear beloved Emperor in her.

"What's on your mind, Apollo?" She cooed at him.

"You look," He paused for a moment debating on telling her but decided it wouldn't hurt, "like someone I knew."

"Well, I'm certain you saw what my mom looked like. I do share at least half of my DNA with her." Aurora teased as she cupped his face still, running her thumbs over his cheeks.

"What of your father?" He said tilting his head, as he had quickly determined that she enjoyed him being emotive; a thing he noticed Astartes who wear their armor often with their human do... pantomime their expressions. He watched her exhale and roll her eyes as she pulled her hands away. Apollo held back a frown at the lack of contact between them.

"Never met him. Mom literally only met him once. Though it's a really funny story on how he got my mom, for context she never really randomly slept with people, to sleep with him." With her gestures and movements it was an often told story. "She was at some bar and tells me that she looked at the other end of the bar and sees the most handsome man she's ever seen. Tall, strong jawed, silky brown hair going to his... as she puts it 'nice ass', swore that his eyes had to be gold, and just had some European air about him; though... tangent we learned that he might have actually been Anatolian when I took a DNA test. But... " She waves her hand resuming the main point, "She waited a bit as she was certain that no one that good looking was at this bar alone. But he was so she decides to shoot her shot and they get talking." Aurora makes a grand gesture for the next words, "Massive nerd with many fields of interest, so my mom, also being one, saw that as a point in his favor. But that's not the thing that riles my mom up and gets her to sleep with him, oh no... so she asks him his name," She builds the suspense for a moment, "he called himself 'Revelation'." She waves her hands at the reveal. But she soon shakes her head and laughs, "My mom and I have had a laugh at that given how it sounds like she had already made up her mind to have sex with this stranger but it's funny that him being a 'mysterious' handsome stranger named Revelation. Is what cemented it for her. But yeah they had sex and nine months later I came into the world."

Apollo's pupils became pinpricks as he was, as was most of the ten thousand were, privy to many of His names and he distinctly remembers Revelation being one of them. His breathing remained steady, no outward sign betraying his emotions, but his heart was racing as time crawled for him as he finally really looked at Aurora drinking in every detail... he wasn't losing his mind as he could see it. She was his Master's child.

"I might know your father." Apollo said.

"Do you now?"

Aurora blinked as she had been doing so for the past 5 minutes digesting what was told to her after Apollo had info dumped a lot on her. She had to sit on a stump half way through his explanation of her father... "Okay so... let me go through the highlights. My dad is an immortal space warlord, who is also worshiped as a god, but heavily insisted that he wasn't a god... when apparently he liked to play god genetically. He was also a really shitty dad because how else do you get nine people who call you dad to want you dead?"

"That is a gross simplification of everything." Apollo stated bluntly.

"THAT ISN'T SAYING NO APOLLO!" She shouts. Apollo just huffs as he decides to not give her a vocal answer but he is pleased when she presses him for more, "And you want to find him because he made you when he was playing God but its not out of a familial obligation it's because you wholeheartedly serve him?"

"Correct."

She is quiet for several moments before letting out a sigh as she looks to him, "Okay Apollo I won't stop you from finding him. I'll even do my best to help you but I need you to answer something for me."

Apollo preened under her acceptance of his desire to find her father, "Gladly."

Aurora felt mean for what she was about to say but if what he had told her was true... he was like ten thousand years old... he could handle this easily. "What will you do when you find him? The man you know does not even exist yet and he might never exist. Given how he's the one who makes both you and apparently the Astartes and since you," she points to him, "are here and now and you're from the really far future and none of it includes mentions of this happening? Means that this is probably now an alternate timeline, if you believe in that of course. SO Apollo... please tell me... what are you going to do?" Her words struck at something deep inside of his psyche. His mind came to a screeching stop. "Oh God... Oh God... Apollo? I didn't mean to break you." Her voice cut through to his mind as he finally heard her again after being frozen still as a statue looking through her.

Apollo knew that this endeavor was utterly selfish... it was flawed and flimsy enough for a baseline mortal to see the holes in it... but he just wanted to serve a living Emperor again... he just wanted to see the life in his eyes once more... she was right... he wasn't the same man who had handcrafted him into what he was... Apollo felt himself mourning again as his hearts ached in pain as he looked at his bonded... his dearest Aurora... she was alive... oh she was oh so very much alive.

The golden chains that bind him and tether him to his beloved master are violently twisted apart with only few of them loosely hanging onto him as the vines dug and pushed under the claps and cuffs that the chains were wrapped around. Apollo was in that dark grief again as his mind rushed and tried to pull him out and there calling his name looking up at him concerned was Aurora. His thoughts coalesced crashed on that singular thought of how she was his beloved Master's child... and the poison blossom bloomed over his hearts as vines wrapped around his neck... around his being... holding him tightly as even the vines wrapped around the broken chain links leading back to his Master and held them in place.

"Apollo?" Aurora looked up at him concerned as he had stood there looking through her and being completely emotionless.

If he could not love and serve his beloved Master here... then the princess... this tiny Empress in front of him would have to suffice. Something deep inside of him was utterly thrilled at the thought of holding her again... her being so easy to pick up and hold... so small and fragile... her hands against his face again whispering praise to him... so small... and all his.

"Apollo? Are you okay?" She whined softly feeling guilty for causing him to shut down basically but Apollo smiled at her and nodded.

"Thank you Aurora. I needed to hear the truth." He gently took one of her hands and dropped to a knee as a practiced warm smile graced his face, "And with that... I am ready to diligently serve you. I vow to keep you safe. And to be as a bonded should be, my Lady." Apollo said his icy blue eyes watching her face as he then kissed the back of her hand before turning it slightly and kissing her pulse point on her wrist. He contained his smile as he felt it against his lips and heard her pulse quicken. His eyes drank up the blush on her tanned skin.

She squeaked as he picked her up, princess style, easily and once more Apollo regarded her blush akin to being praised! Words once more again flowed easy between them as he carried her back to where she was staying as he could tell she was excited to have him as her bonded... perhaps not as excited as he was but he was certain in time she would be.

Perhaps Apollo could see why Valdor was so enamored by the Shards he often collected... so deliciously small... and all very much his.

#warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry sentience #tales from the barn #intense bond #yandere bond #carnal bond #oc: Aurora #oc: Apollo #adeptus custodes #yandere custodes #Sensei oc #yeah I've pulled out old ass lore for what is going on #there is a lot of husbandry lore #Apollo the custodes #Apollo the dread host #Aurora the Sensei #Custodes bond concept is barn anon's idea

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