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vixstarria · 4 months

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Mark me as yours

This takes place immediately after and is interlinked with 'Missionary with the lights off' but from Astarion's rather than Tav's POV - check it out if you haven't already, the fics complement each other.

Soft sassy Astarion, F!Tav, Gale, minor appearances by other origin characters, Astarion POV

Fluff, humour, banter, pining, non-explicit sexual references

A day in camp in the life of Astarion. Features brooding, sewing, doing laundry, being dramatic, engaging in improper use of archmage of Waterdeep, reading erotica, and more!

Approx. 2,000 words

You frowned at the stuffed bear you held in your hands, weighing up your desire to showcase your skills against the absurdity of the task at hand.

The whole thing was coming apart and needed to be washed and restuffed if you were to do this properly. What was inside, anyway? Fur..? You supposed you could go hunt something furry. Or maybe save yourself the time and just give Scratch a quick partial shave, he wouldn’t mind – the mutt lying at your feet was stupid enough to like you. To prefer you over anyone else, in fact.

You reached down to give him a fond, absentminded pet.

And then there was the matter of not letting it burn to a crisp the moment Karlach touched it.

“Is there a flame ward enchantment on this..? Can you reapply it?” you asked Gale, who was nearby at his usual spot by the fire, concocting something edible for the rest of your group.

“There is and I sure can,” he replied.

Great. You had gotten yourself into a group project with the wizard to rescue a teddy bear.

“Don’t tell me this is what Wyll was so concerned about earlier...” Tav had finally made it out of your tent and sat down next to you, looking somewhat less disheveled than how you’d left her.

“The bag of holding finally tore. Naturally I was the only one competent enough to fix it.”

You gestured with your thumb towards a towering pile of assorted crap that Wyll and Lae’zel were still sifting through: Lae’zel inspecting and setting aside any weapons and armour she deemed worth keeping, and Wyll sorting through an array of scrolls and potions no one was ever going to use, or would forget were in your possession if the need for them ever did arise.

“Darling, this is your fault, you know,” you added. “Must you pick up everything?”

“Karlach made me do it. Also I don’t know what you’re talking about, I am prudence and sensibility personified,” she said.

“You’re uh... You’re also bleeding,” Gale said, pointing at her neck.

A trail of blood had started running down from the puncture wounds, which must have reopened.

Shit.

Before you could reason yourself out of it, your instincts kicked in and you pressed your mouth against her neck, licking the blood off. By the gods, she actually leaned into you as you did that, not away. You glimpsed a guilty, sheepish smile she threw at Gale, as you pulled away.

“Idiot... Here, apply pressure, I’ll get the amulet,” you said.

“I’m the idiot?! You’re the one who ran off to resolve a sewing emergency, like a good little seamstress, before sorting me out!”

You strode over to your tent, in part to grab the amulet of Silvanus, in part to discreetly tuck away the erection that had immediately started developing as soon as you tasted her blood.

Hells, am I 239 or 15? you thought, annoyed with yourself.

“An amulet? I was wondering why you’d stopped visiting me in the mornings...” you heard from Shadowheart.

“We have a system,” Tav replied.

“Clearly,” laughed Shadowheart.

A scene from the night sprung up in your mind as you went about your day:

She’d fallen asleep on your shoulder, half lying on you, her nose buried in your neck.

It was... nice. Really nice. And you didn’t think this bizarre scenario would ever happen again.

And yet, pleasant as it was, she still felt too far. You needed to feel her closer. Perhaps you were being greedy, but after all these years, why should you get anything less than exactly what you wanted?

Carefully, very carefully lest she stir awake and leave, you rolled over onto your side, holding her against you.

She was still asleep. Good...

You cautiously slipped lower and lower until your head was at her chest, delicately wrapping your arms around her torso.

Then she stirred.

Shit.

Without waking, she sighed, drawing you into a tight embrace, clutching you against her chest, complete with throwing a leg over your hips to pull you even closer.

You finally relaxed, your arms wrapped around her waist.

Perfect...

She felt so warm... She smelled of comfort.

You could indulge in this for the night. You would wake up before she did anyway.

You drifted away, lulled by the beating of her heart.

You didn’t have any nightmares that night.

“Is your boyfriend coming?” you heard Karlach somewhere in the distance.

You cringed at the juvenile term. Still, you were curious how she would answer.

“He’s on laundry duty,” she responded. “Just us gals today.”

“So your idea of doing washing is to pawn everything off to me,” said Gale.

“Vampires and running water, remember,” you said. “Also you don’t look like you’re exerting an awfully large amount of effort yourself... Although I must admit, this is ingenious.” A little flattery wouldn’t hurt.

Gale sat at a riverbank at a deeper section of the river. Some sheets and clothing were being tossed and spun in a small bubbling whirlpool within the water, together with foaming slivers of soap.

“Surely few archmages possess such finesse and creativity?” you continued.

Gale sighed and motioned for you to throw your bundle in as well, expanding the whirlpool.

“Just toss your shirt in too, it's splattered with blood,” Gale added wearily.

Her scent lingered on it. The last thing you wanted was to wash it off.

You pulled the shirt over your head and hurled it into the whirlpool.

“Not Tav’s creative nailwork, I presume..?” Gale asked with a wince, looking at your back.

“Nope” was all you said, as you pulled a book out from your pocket, making yourself comfortable on the bank. To his credit, the wizard did not probe further.

‘Mark me as yours’

Those words had been echoing in your mind over and over all day.

It couldn’t have meant anything.

A little expression of some vampire fetishism finally poking through – you shouldn’t have expected any different from her, she did offer you her blood consistently, not even asking for anything in return.

Still, you’d felt like something inside you might burst from your desire and thrill when you heard those words.

And then everything that followed after...

You had actually lost yourself for a short while. Not dissociated and detached. Lost yourself. In bliss. In the scent of her skin, in the sounds of her need for you, in the sensation of her blood merging with yours and flowing through your veins.

And now she was walking around somewhere, with telltale bitemarks on her neck for all the world to see. Scandalous...

No, it couldn’t have meant anything.

‘Mark me as yours’

Still... What a pleasant little fantasy...

‘Yours’

“You’ve been smiling at that page for ten minutes straight now,” Gale’s voice snapped you out of your musings.

“It’s my favourite page,” you retorted.

“What’s it about?” he asked snidely after a short pause.

“I have no idea,” you confessed, begrudgingly, snapping the book shut. If the wizard knew what was best for him, he would abstain from any further comments.

“She’s quite fond of you,” Gale said sombrely after another pause.

“Is this about to turn into one of those ‘You break her heart – I'll break your face’ talks?” you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“Oh gods no,” Gale laughed. "No, I would go straight to incineration... You just strike me as the type that needs to have the obvious spelled out for them.”

“I am not entering this type of discourse with someone who’s presently washing my spend off my bed sheets,” you said, laying back and shutting your eyes, to bask in the sun. No answer followed.

Not even a minute had passed when a shadow fell over you.

Odd, you thought. There hadn’t been a single cloud in the sky.

You opened your eyes to see a giant water bubble hovering a few meters above you. Was that... a bedsheet floating in the middle..?

Worth it, you thought just as the undulating bubble spilt and crashed over you.

You coughed and spat, trying to untangle yourself from the sheet, as the unleashed torrent nearly swept you off the bank. And yet, above all else, you found yourself curious.

The water had no longer been running as part of the river, true, but given its sheer volume and the velocity at which it hit you, it should have hurt more than merely your pride.

You made it to the edge of the bank, and cautiously dipped a finger in.

Nothing...

You proceeded to submerge your hand, then your entire forearm, to your elbow.

Nothing.

Of all things... Why this? Why not your reflection? Why not the blood craving? Oh well. Beggars, choosers...

You were laughing.

“This tadpole,” you turned and shouted at Gale, unabashedly stripping yourself of your pants, as Gale turned away, muttering something about going blind, “is the best thing that’s happened to me in centuries!”

The best? Maybe second best? It had some tight competition, but you supposed nothing would have been possible without it, so it reigned supreme.

You leaped into the river, diving and letting the gentle current carry you downstream for a while.

You knew what you would be doing later that evening with her.

“What have you got there?”

She slid onto your lap like a cat that refused to take ‘no’ for an answer as it sought attention. You had been idling away your time by your tent, with some pulp you had picked up earlier. The rest of the group had been drinking and roasting something at the campfire.

“Trash. Disappointingly boring trash, this time,” you answered.

“No pulsating flesh tunnels in this one?”

“Alas... There were not one but two mentions of ‘velvet-wrapped steel’ however, and plenty of ‘sword-sheathing’.”

“To the hilt?”

“Is there any other way?”

“Wouldn’t want to sheathe it only partially, I suppose...” she mused. “Come join us. We found some half-decent wine. And you don’t have to be alone all the time, you know.”

“Spare me, I’ve had enough of Gale’s lectures and Wyll’s tales for the day. And besides, ugh, all those chewing noises!” You made a gagging sound.

None of them want me there.

“Oh don’t be such a delicate princess,” she rolled her eyes. “How’s this: it’s our joint meal time. It would be rude and completely unfair to exclude anyone. You should sit down with everyone, bite down on my wrist and make a great deal of slurping.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Delightful. Simply delightful.

“It will be funny!”

“I fear you might be the only one laughing, darling.”

That is hilarious, I can just imagine Gale squealing or getting sick.

“Is there anyone else you’d care to make laugh?” she asked with a slight upturn of her lips.

Not in the least.

“I could die again knowing I have accomplished something if I ever make Lae’zel laugh. But perish the thought – I am perfectly happy right here with my literature.”

“Well, if you don’t want to join the group, perhaps I will stay and you can...” She snatched the book from your hands and tossed it aside, leaning in and bringing her lips up to your ear. “...Release your kraken in my field of rose petals,” she purred in a sultry voice.

“Stop,” you choked back a snicker.

“Get tangled up in my beef curtains?” she continued with the same tone.

“You’re disgusting.”

“Sink your meat shaft in my cream tart!” she persevered.

“By the gods, woman, I am never having sex with your again.”

“Suckle the nectar from my weeping core!”

“Alright, fine, I’ll go, anything is better than this.” You got up, pushing her off your lap.

“Taste my forbidden, oozing fruit, Astarion!” she cried out from the ground behind you as you covered your ears and shouted “LALALALA”, making your way towards the campfire.

You would endure the prattle of your companions.

Then you would take her for a moonlit swim in the river.

Then you would see if she might spend the whole night in your arms again.

Perhaps she could sleep in your shirt and leave her scent on it again – it was foolish to sleep completely in the nude out in the wild after all, what if there were intruders?

Everything was going according to plan, you reminded yourself.

~~~~~

Next in series - Down by the river

Series master list

AO3

Tags: @littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tallymonster @tragedybunny

Also @spacebarbarianweird - you haven't asked for a tag but sounded interested

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfiction #astarion x tav #astarion romance #astarion x reader #astarion POV #gale dekarios #bloodweave more like beefwave #archmage of waterdeep as a washing machine #the narrator may be somewhat unreliable #reflections on author's own inventory management

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ann1-wr1tes · 3 months

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You Came?...You called.

Synopsis: You find yourself falling into the horrors of your job, but come to find out that you don't have to be alone.

Warnings: Slight angst, crying, hurt and comfort

Word Count: 2,642

A/N: Okay, so if you've seen this fic before, it's because I posted this on my previous account. I didn't plagiarize or steal anyone's work. I just have all of this saved and I plan on posting the other fics I have. Anyways hope ya'll enjoy!

Part two

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You felt pathetic as your quivering voice spoke into the phone. You couldn't stop the steady shaking in your hands as you try your best to sound normal. You didn't want him of all people to hear you like this. In fact you weren't even sure why you had called. Not that it mattered. The call went to voicemail anyways so it's not like he'd even show up.

"I..I don't know what I'm doing right now, honestly. I shouldn't have called so uhhh sorry for....for bothering you." you rasp out. Then quickly, with a shaky finger you hang up the phone and drop it in your lap.

You cover your face in your hands as you try to take deep breaths. For some reason though, taking in air seemed harder than it once was. It almost felt like your lungs were being crushed by some invisible force as you felt your heart beat speed up to a million miles a minute. You were having a panic attack and for good reason too.

Everyone had told you that being an agent was far from easy. The D.S.O was an agency that was dedicated to stopping bio-terrorism. The people working under the agency were always seen as intimidating, competent, and effective in whatever their job was. The agents were also a force to be reckoned with. After all you had to go through hell just to be considered a candidate for becoming a D.S.O agent. Little did you know that actually being an agent was a whole new type of hell.

The job was a test to not just your physical health, but also your mental health. It was stressful and draining. You always had to be on alert and sometimes on the run during missions. It felt like it never ended. But the last mission you went on was a disaster. Actually describing it as a disaster was an understatement. It could better be described as a tragedy.

You were thrown into Russia. You and your partner were tasked with investigating a certain lab that was suspected to have some sort of vaccine that was turning people into B.O.W's so of course it was dangerous and risky.

Your partner that you went with was actually a good friend of yours. Maybe that was the first mistake. You can still remember the look of horror that played out on your partners face as she got shot with an injection of some sort. You took out the person who injected her with the infectious syringe, but it was too late. The injection had already started to wreak havoc on her body and there was no cure.

You still remember how she pleaded and begged you to kill her before whatever she got infected with could run its course. But you wanted to believe that you could save her. That was your second mistake.

In the end she shifted into this mutated, horrific, B.O.W and you almost died. At the last second you finally killed her but not before you hesitated and tried to convince yourself that there was still some way that you could save her. You eventually learned that it was over though and you had to stop her before she could infect you.

When you returned to the D.S.O, you came back with no partner, many injuries, and a few samples of the vaccine that you were supposed to get. The mission was successful but now you were starting to wonder at what cost? Was it really worth it?

You remember the first day back. You felt like a zombie. Your body was numb, you couldn't feel the numerous injuries you had gotten but you could feel how heavy everything felt. It felt like there was lead in your shoes as you walked down the bright hallways and you felt like you could collapse at any moment. Then you saw him.

Leon Kennedy.

Looking handsome as ever. Right when he saw you he was already on his feet, bounding towards you in a few wide strides and he had a hand on your cheek. You numbly watched as his bright blue eyes darted back and forth across your face.

You did look like hell to be fair.

Then when he asked if you were okay, you pushed him away and kept walking. In the moment you just wanted to leave and go home. You felt like if you told Leon about what happened right then and there you'd either pass out, cry, or scream but now looking back on it you felt like an asshole. You remembered the softness in Leon's eyes as he looked at you, his lips slightly parted as he took in your disheveled appearance. You even remembered how gently he grazed his hand against your cheek.

Why were you such an asshole?

After that you went home, took a shower and slept. You actually were quite sure that you had slept for a few days straight. The only time you went out was when you attended your friends funeral and that was horrific in itself. Then the nightmares began and it became impossible to close your eyes for more than a minute. You'd immediately have flashes of images and memories in your head from the mission. It was like torture.

So now you sat there. One in the morning. Your body heavy and slumped over as your phone sat in your lap and you looked down at it. When the screen turned black you could see your reflection looking back at you.

Your face was paler than usual, your eyebags had eyebags and your eyes were slightly glazed over as you looked at someone who you didn't seem to recognize. You seemed to be a shell of yourself as you sat there on the edge of your bed in the dark. Your legs limply dangled off the edge and you could feel tears start to build in your eyes. You didn't even notice until a tear slipped down your cheek.

So this was what it was to be an agent. Fun stuff.

Maybe you should've listened to all those who warned you. You were stubborn, determined, you always knew what you wanted. So when everyone warned you about the dangers of being an agent you shrugged it all off.

Even when Leon was your mentor and he took the time to train you, he too was one person who tried to warn you about the dangers of being an agent. At first you were offended. You thought that he was telling you all this because he thought you were incapable or weren't fit to be an agent. It turns out that wasn't true at all.

Leon was endeared by you from the moment he laid his eyes on you. You were bright and full of life. You were always willing to do whatever it took to please him, whether that be in training or missions and then he got to watch you evolve into your own person.

But now as you sit in the dark by yourself, tears streaming down your cheeks in a silent show of the pain going on inside, you were starting to wonder how you'd ever be able to live like this.

Knock knock knock

You practically jump out of your skin with a soft cry. Almost on instinct your hands fly to your bedside table and you pull out your gun that you keep handy. You've been far too paranoid lately not to have it around so you grip the gun in your hands as you walk through your apartment.

You turn on a lamp for some much needed light and with a deep breath you open the door a crack and peek through the small opening.

"Who is it?" you hiss through the door.

Suddenly you catch the sight of a leather jacket and bright blue eyes.

"Mind opening the door?"

Your heart speeds up and you can feel your cheeks grow warm as you hear the husky voice of Leon. His voice sounded like honey and god did it send chills down your spine sometimes but right now you were shocked that he was even here.

You open the door fully this time and stare for a moment. God why was he so beautiful. Sure he looked a little aged and a tad bit on the tired side but he was still beautiful. It was just the way his hair perfectly fell over his face and how he had a chiseled jaw that was paired with some light stubble and his eyes. Oh, you wouldn't even get started on his eyes.

Though you soon realize that right now isn't the time to be staring at Leon. He gives you a look and you sigh and rub your eyes tiredly.

"You came?" you say, almost as if you were in disbelief.

"You called." Leon responds simply.

He watches as you stare at him for a moment more. This time you just look tired. You look him up and down. A small pout in your lips as your tired eyes practically drooped. With that a sigh you step aside and you let him walk into your wreck of an apartment. You shut the door behind you and carelessly plop your gun down on your counter.

"Ignore the mess. It's been a long week." you mutter as you sit down on your couch. Leon's gaze follows you as you stumble onto the couch and you almost seem to collapse into yourself.

He sits down next to you and you can still feel his eyes on you. You almost love it and hate it at the same time. You loved it because his attention was on you, as pathetic as that sounded you always knew that you seek out validation and attention from Leon. Even if you didn't want to admit the fact to yourself. But you also despised that he was looking at you right now. You knew how pathetic you must've seemed to him. You sat next to him, you hadn't showered in a day or two, your hair was a straggly, stringy mess, the sweatpants and tank top you had on were wrinkled and probably needed a good wash. It almost made you want to beg him to not look at you at all.

"So do you want to talk about it?" Leon asks, his voice came out soft. Almost like a whisper but loud enough to be heard out in the air. It was unlike his usual sarcastic tone that he always responded to you with when you both were together on a normal day.

"Talk about what?" you asked simply. You knew what he was alluding to. The day you came back to the report on the mission. The moment he saw how miserable you looked, in fact you looked more than miserable. Leon was all too familiar with that look. It was a look of fatigue and loss. Like all the innocence and naivety that you once possessed was drained out of you by the time your mission was done. It was a deep look within your eyes that showed all the horrible things you had seen, that you did, that you had to deal with and survive through. Leon knew about it all. He had gone through it all and he remembers the exact moment that it all came crashing down on him like it had on you now. It was Spain. Spain had always haunted him. It was almost like he never left that hellish place since he always seemed to be trapped there in his dreams and it was always something in the back of his mind.

"You called me for a reason." Leon says, trying to look you in the eye. You refused to look at him though. You turned your head downwards to look at your hands. You watched as you fidgeted with your fingernails and still felt Leon's stone gaze on you.

"I don't know why I called you. It was a mistake. I shouldn't have." You utter.

There's a moment of silence and suddenly Leon's hand comes into view as he reaches out and grabs one of your own. It effectively grabs your attention and you look up at him as he grips your hand in his. He starts to softly rub circles into the back of your hand as you look at him, being slightly startled.

"It wasn't a mistake. You can talk to me, sweetheart." he coos.

Fuck. You almost want to melt with how the pet name rolls off his tongue or how he looks at you with all his undivided attention.

Your mouth opens and closes. You go to speak but no words come out. Your mouth goes dry and a choked sound leaves your throat.

"There's...nothing to talk about." you meekly say.

That's when the first tear fell from your eye. Then another and another. Then suddenly you were shaking. Your lungs were burning, your chest ached, your lips trembled. In a pathetic attempt to stop Leon from seeing this sudden emotional display, your free hand goes to cover your face as a sob leaves your throat.

Before you knew it a pair of arms lifts you up and you are pulled into Leon's lap. Your face buried in his neck and his one hand softly combed through your tangled hair as the other hand was tracing circles in your back.

"I know...I know it hurts. Let it out sweetheart." Leon mutters into your hair.

Its like the world crashes around you as you let out sobs and cries. You clutch onto Leon like he's a life line, like he's the only thing grounding you right now. Which may actually be the case as he continues to stroke your hair, rub your back. You even feel a few kisses being pressed to the crown of your head as he talks you through it all.

Even when your breathing starts to become more shallow and it feels like you're suffocating Leon is still there, being calm and grounding you.

"I know it's hard but just breathe for me baby. You can do that can't you?" he softly asks as both hands cup your cheeks so he can fully look at you.

You weakly nod as ragged, choked breaths come in and out of your mouth. You start to feel dizzy but Leon keeps his hands on your cheeks and continues to talk.

"Okay take a deep breath in..." Leon deeply inhales, waiting for you to do the same. You deeply inhale and then watch as Leon slowly exhales. You slowly exhale. He deeply inhales again and you do the same. Then you both exhale and repeat.

"Good girl, that's it. Just breathe." Leon encourages you, still rubbing your cheeks gently. Soon enough your breaths begin to even out as Leon continues to run his thumbs along your cheek bones, soothing you in the process. He especially makes sure to wipe the tears that are still streaming down your cheeks.

As you continue to cry you notice him lean closer and press his forehead against yours and his hands slowly leave your cheeks until they rest on either side of your head.

"I know its hard. Trust me. But I promise you i'll be here, if you allow me to be." Leon whispers as he stares into your eyes.The silence hangs between the both of you, thick and tense, heavy with emotions. Leon pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you as tight as possible.

You almost feel like a child as you grasp onto him. You're still a little teary eyed and weary.

"Will you stay with me...please..." you mutter.

His arms tighten around you a bit more and a slight smile comes to his face. "Of course sweetheart."

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil x you #leon scott kennedy #leon x you #leon smut #resident evil angst

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hearts4hazbin · 28 days

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♡Je t'aime. || alastor x reader.

A/N : love it when people make al speak French but I couldn't find some good places to sneak it in 🧚‍♀️ um anyways I wrote this at 3 am I'm fiiiineeeeee

Alastor was an... interesting man to say the least. You didn't understand him, yet there was something about him that you couldn't help but feel attracted to him. The people at the hotel warned you about him, and you may have found him to be sort of off-putting, but nothing more.

Sometimes, you caught him staring at you when you were doing mundane tasks, and he would always sit next to you when Charlie called for a group meeting. You didn't think too much of it. You guys were just friends, perhaps just acquaintances.

"Hey dear," Alastor appeared from the shadows of your room in the hotel.

"Fuck!" You jumped. You obviously weren't expecting him to show up in your room, especially this late into the night. "Hey, Alastor..! Pleasure to have you in here."

Alastor just smiles at you. But it's not one of his usual smiles, rather a smile with more emotion in it. "Y/N, mon cœur, we shall go on an outing tomorrow."

"What?" But it was too late. He left the room. Was he asking you out? He couldn't have, right?

When you woke up and did your daily morning routine, Alastor was waiting for you when you exited the room. "Are you ready for our outing?"

Before you could answer, he interlocked his arm with yours and you two were out the door, going to who knows where.

"Lovely day outside isn't it, darling?"

"Sure... Alastor, why are you doing this?" You asked him.

He shrugged, "Simply because I admire you more than anyone in Hell."

Your face heated up from what he said. He actually liked you? He was treating it as if he just told you the weather. "Al.. You're also pretty cool." Alastor just looked at you, as if he was waiting for you to say something else. "And I guess I return the feelings."

He pat your head, "Excellent. That's what I've guessed from the beginning. You were making things obvious, so I was waiting for when you'd admit it."

"YOU KNEW? AND DIDN'T DO ANYTHING?"

"I did this, didn't I?"

You just sighed. After a while, you arrived at the place where Alastor does his broadcasts. "You're special, you're the only one who can be here" He told you. It felt intimidating being up there, but you were glad he could trust you.

"Alastor?" And when he turned your way, you kissed him.

#♡ a blessing from the stars!#alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #x reader

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nicxl333 · 9 months

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LAUNDRY ANTICS- GOJO SATORU X FEM!READER

warnings: 18+, smut, semi-public sex, oral sex (both parties receiving), praise, washing machine as vibrator (technically)

summary: what happens when an extremely handsome individual catches your attention one late night at the laundromat?

word count: 2.3k

"y/n i'm popping out for a bit!"

said the woman who owned the launderette. you were about to wash your dirty clothes you had used. the only thing you had on were shorts and a tank top. since you were related to the owner, she trusted you to be left with her store alone. it's not like you showed any evil intent anyways.

the only sound that could be heard was the faint music playing from the speakers in the corner. you hummed along to the tune while sorting out different colour categories.

ding

the single bell on the door of the laundromat resounded through the store, alerting the arrival of a potential customer.

looking up from your current task your vision was welcomed by a man with a head of white hair, pure as snow. this was accompanied by an all black high necked jacket with matching pants and chelsea styled boots. to top it all off, he had a blindfold on, which confused you a bit to say the least.

he was holding a black duffel bag, presumably full of dirty clothes. your assumptions were confirmed when he started walking over towards one of the machines to start a cycle.

you carried on with what you were doing when you stopped, feeling a pair of eyes in your direction. looking up, your eyes met, or what you assumed, his eyes looking straight towards you.

"umm, can i help you?"

"i don't seem to know exactly how this washing thing works so can you assist me please?" the man replied with a ghost of a smirk on his face.

you stopped what you were doing and walked over to him, who stepped to the side to allow you to do your thing.

"alright, you're gonna need to use three machines if you want to get out of here quickly so i hope you have your coins." you pointed towards three machines in front of you two. "colours go in one machine, darks in another and whites in another too. i'm trusting you know how to separate your clothing into those categories?"

the man in front of you stood there with a blank face.

you sighed to yourself. if he didn't even know how the damn machine worked then he sure as hell wouldn't know how to do anything else.

"oh god...ok let me show you. your whites are literally any piece of clothing that is white. your colours are any piece of clothing which isn't red, black, grey or dark blue and your colours are anything else. seeing as you're a newbie i'll show you."

you grabbed the bag which held the clothing so that you could sort through the items when you paused and turned to the man before you.

"may i?"

"sure, you're helping me after all beautiful." you froze at your pet name given to you by him. after a few seconds you shook it off and started wafting through the clothing, unbeknownst to the man staring you down and licking his lips in delight. from where he was standing, he could get a clear view of your ass and that seemed to be where his eyes stayed stuck the most.

"you're not as slick as you think you know? don't think i haven't noticed you staring me down." continuing with your task at hand while calling over your shoulder.

he stopped, surprised that he was actually caught red handed. he didn't let it deter him though;

he loved playing hard to get.

"well how could i help it? you've got a good body on you. you got a boyfriend?"

there it was, his first move to determine wether or not to carry on the chase.

"and if i did? how would it affect you in any way?"

"oho, it would trust me on that one."

by this point you had finished your task and the machines were starting their cycle. you turned to face the man in front of you who had taken his blindfold off. you studied his eyes, they were a beautiful blue and seemed to have so much detail in it which helped to boost his overall appearance. he was a highly attractive man, no doubt about it, and it seemed you had caught his attention.

"no i don't."

he started closing in on you until your lower body was pressed against one of the machines, the sound of water sloshing faintly heard in the background. he came down to your ear, whispering the words;

"feel like having some fun then?"

you were down nonetheless, but you suddenly grew self conscious of the full view anyone had into the laundrette.

"sure." you said, while simultaneously walking towards the window shutters, rolling them all the way down. looking at the time, the shop was due to close soon anyways so it didn't make a difference. you locked the front door and walked back over to him with a smirk on your face. jumping onto the machine you spread your legs, showing him that you were his to toy around with.

"do your thing."

the man liked your confidence. something that was a huge turn on for him. he leaned forward and reached for your shorts, which slipped off with ease. he smirked when he came into contact with your wet cunt. he slipped the fabric to the side and began eating you out.

"ohhh...fuck!" you were in ecstasy from the sheet movements of this man's tongue against your clit. he knew exactly what to do with it, meaning that he had experience, you could tell that much.

a string of curses were pulled from your mouth, egging the man on further. he stopped licking on your bud, going down to lick your hole, then inserting two fingers in straightaway.

"s-shit-"

"call me satoru darling."

you suddenly grew quiet, feeling shy to say his name. this only caused him to curl his fingers upwards in retaliation, while continuing his thrusting

"say my name or i'll make you scream it."

"...s-satoru..fuck!"

"i can't hear you darling~" he starts increasing the pace of his fingers, causing you to grip onto him for dear life. he was bringing you closer and closer to the edge and soon enough you'd reach your high.

"ahh! satoru please make me cum!!"

"your wish is my command..."

gojo then dropped down to his knees, carrying on with his thrusting while simultaneously beginning to lick your clit. the pleasure you were feeling was too overwhelming and within 30 seconds your arousal was slipping into his open mouth. he of course, licked every drop, overstimning you at the same time.

"damn princess, you taste good. i think it's my turn for some action though."

you barely heard what he said, as you were still trying to come down from your high.

"aww, did i make you cum too hard? that was just the beginning baby. better prepare for what's coming."

you eventually gained control of yourself and slid off the washing machine, getting on your knees infront of gojo.

"suck it good sweetie." he said while pulling out his dick. once you came face to face with it you saw just how big it was, veiny and pink at the tip, curved slightly to the right. you were contemplating on how it was going to fit in your mouth. you just had to make do and hope for the best.

you gave his tip a kiss and a few kitten licks before collecting the saliva in your mouth beginning your descent down his dick. it was hard to accommodate but you were determined to make it all fit. by gojo's grunts though, you could tell you were doing something right.

"mmh...fuck princess, you're doing so well for me."

his hand found purchase on top of your head, guiding you down further and further until you gagged and came up for air.

"do that again for me, it was hot."

you started bopping your head back and forth, using your hand to take up whatever space was left. your other hand stayed fondling his balls, earning frequent grunts. you knew gojo was nearing his end when his groans started becoming more intense and slightly whiny. it was like music to your ears and you could feel yourself pooling once again at your core with arousal. you reached one hand down and started pleasing yourself.

once gojo felt one hand leave his dick he looked down and saw your hand rubbing your clit he instantly let out a loud, guttural grunt and climaxed, pushing your head all the way down, until he hit the back of your throat. you gagged once again, when you felt the familiar hot liquid go down your throat. you couldn't really taste it since his cum didn't get the chance to land on your taste buds.

you took a second to gain your breath, which didn't last long since you were lifted off your feet back onto the washing machine with your legs spread.

"who the fuck said you could please yourself while sucking me off?"

"looked like you enjoyed it from the way you cummed in my mouth after seeing that."

"oh you're asking for the incapability to walk after this darling."

"so do it. seems like you're all talk and no show to m- oh fuck!!"

gojo had enough of your comments and slid into you mid sentence. you didn't actually think about how big he'd be inside you and you could feel a tinge of pain among the immense amount of pleasure you were feeling. you liked the burn though.

"what was that again?" he said while starting to thrust into you at deeply.

"seems now like you've finally submitted. if i had known shoving my dick inside you would shut you up, believe me i would've done that a lot sooner."

you couldn't do anything but cry out in pleasure. he was hitting all the right spots and you were loving every bit of it. as if that wasn't enough though, he placed your legs around his waist and placed his two fingers in your mouth.

"suck on them." you complied with his request, swirling your tongue all around his thumb.

in this position, he was hitting deeper than ever and you knew you wouldn't last much longer.

"fuckfuckfuck!!! satoru please!" you didn't even know what you were begging for at this point. you could feel the washing machine under you start to vibrate as it was fully underway in its cycle. it was then that gojo stopped his thrusts and pulled out of you. he flipped you around and placed your one foot on the ground with your knee resting on the machine.

you could feel the machine vibrating directly on your clit now mixed with the cold metal, adding to the pleasure. you felt gojo enter you once more, this time thrusting hard and fast at the same time. it was overwhelming, and you started babbling incoherent words. he then wrapped his hand around your neck, keeping the other hand on your waist, to enable those deep thrusts.

"cmon baby i know you've got one more in there for me, how about you be a good girl and give me one more yeah?"

the machine, his thrusts and his words were too much for you to handle and you were brought over the edge, squirting all over his dick with a series of moans that echoed all around the shop. gojo wasn't expecting that and from the way you were squeezing down on him brought him over the edge too, thrusting into you with a last moan to accommodate. it was silent for a few moments, while the pair of you caught your breath. the only thing that could be heard were the whirring machines.

"didn't know you had that in you princess."

"to be honest, me either."

"what, you mean you've never squirted before?"

you shook your head from side to side while gojo stood there in shock. his face transitioned into a smirk.

"i'm definitely gonna be the last then."

"wait what do you mean by that? oh...." he wanted to see you again, which you were down for. he made you see stars, something which many of your previous hook ups couldn't even dream of doing.

a sudden beep resounded throughout the shop. it was the washing machine, alarming its customer that the clothes were finished and ready for drying. you both started putting your clothes back on. gojo started loading the wet clothes back into his duffel bag and zipped it up, slinging the bag over his shoulder. you assumed he had a dryer at his house since the clothes weren't dry.

"so i've got to go now, i have work to complete. could i get your number and we'll see about meeting up again?"

you rolled your eyes, holding out your hand to input your number. he did so and you slotted it in, handing the phone back to him.

"y/n? what a pretty name," he said while walking to the door. "till next time!"

and he was gone.

you sighed to yourself and walked over to the machine so you could place your wet clothes in the dryer. the owner then walked in through the back door.

"oh y/n, you're still here? sorry i took so long i got caught up in a chat with some fine men!" she started walking around, switching off all the machines so she could close up for the night. she stopped by the machine that was 'active' where you and gojo were.

"ahh was someone using this y/n? seems like someone dropped some water here or something."

you thought nothing of it until you stopped and realised;

that wasn't water.

#jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #jujutsu gojo #gojo x you #gojo smut #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #public smut #gojo satoru x reader smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo x you smut #gojo x y/n smut #jujutsu kaisen #anime

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gvtted-ratz · 2 months

Text

read all our tags/ratings. they r important n give u all u need 2 decide if u wanna actually read or not. do not like the tags/rating? do not read.

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Mission Failed

Simon “Ghost” Riley x M!Reader x John “Soap” MacTavish

Last Edited: 17/03/2023

TW: slight angst, foul language, violence, blood, gore, gunshot wound, death mention

@denzellovehazelnuts: Hi! hope you have a good day! Can you do a poly "Ghost x male reader x Soap" (if you comfortable writing poly relationship) with slow burn, angst and fluff at the end? Where Ghost and Soap already in a relationship until the reader came into their team The two male thought the reader wasn't talkative around people but few weeks later, things change at first Ghost seems interesting in the male skill using gun and how fast he can run and Soap like the male sense of humour. Both of them thought it only a friendship type of things. Until the male save Ghost from the enemy on the battlefield and him laughing at Soap jokes. That when the two males known what happen to them, they weren't sure if M/n would comfortable in a relationship with them, so they start doing small things for him like making coffee or helping training,.. And M/n notice it, he even started to fall for the both of them. But he keep denying the things they did for him because he thought that what friend do. and M/n don't think he is ready for a new relationship, he wasn't sure he is good enough for them (the male got trauma from the previous relationships) (more angst please, I would like to suffer for a little bit) (・∀・) After a while, the three of them got into a mission together, everything went good until the male got shot. He thought he going to be de@d soon (only to find out that he only got shot at his leg) so M/n confessed how he feel about the two of them. (andddd I don't know what to do with the ending cause I'm ran out of idea. I would want to see how the treated each other when got into a relationship. Sorry about the grammar, English isn't my first language)

Word Count: 2,654

AO3 LINK -> HERE

Notes: hiiii! i dont do heavy angst but i did do some u know? slow burn it is!!! srry it took so long! irl things hold me back a lot. N since u wanted slow burn, n with all that uve put (about 350 words of things i can work on/with 2 get this drawn out as a full-on fic!! yay!) i had 2 like. try n put all u wanted in there so yea! hope u enjoy!! also! i threw in some other characters like gaz n roach. hope u dont mind em being in here since this is like, a mash of cod n codmw2 (canon? what cancon?) cause i rlly do wanna put some other characters in here that i find interesting n build some sort of character/personality 4 the reader. reader deserves some cool friends-2-brothers!

At first, you hadn’t wanted to join Task Force 141. You were comfortable with your position as the quiet, but light on your feet, knife specialist. Well, that wasn’t truly your title. You were just good with knives. You weren’t too shotty with a gun either. Either weapon being in your hands meant blood was going to be shed. KorTac needed those types, especially those who could use it to get in as well as out; you also couldn’t forget about using your skills to get information. Torturing the prisoners wasn’t something you particularly liked, but you were good at it too. Combining your skills with knives and guns, it truly was hell for anyone on the opposite side of your team. You also couldn’t forget that, out of the others, you were much faster. Sure, some could still beat you at times but that didn’t mean you weren’t good. Bets had been constantly taking place with you, along with others as it was one of the few things any of you could do to pass the time in a less-than-bloody manner.

The transfer from KorTac to Task Force 141 wasn’t smooth. Horangi, or Kim Hong-jin, didn’t let you go for weeks. You were part of his team, one of his men. The leader of KorTac is what most of you saw him as. He knew many of you like the back of his hand. Not to mention, a tiger can be cruel but would never devour its cubs for no reason, well, as some say. As far as you knew, because you were all together, you were a team and therefore family. While there were others who didn’t get along, out in the field, all of you had each other’s back. Very rarely did anyone get left to perish to the enemy.

With all that in mind, it took weeks for him to let you go. More or less, Laswell was the one to convince him; that is if you call bringing each plus every person in KorTac to ruins as “convincing”. She wanted you on a team she could keep tabs on you; doubting her power and skills was out of the question. Which meant leaving KorTac to ensure that everyone else was free from possible imprisonment or death was necessary.

Fitting in wasn’t too hard considering most of the people there were from all over the place. While it’s odd for a member from another team to suddenly appear on another, it didn’t bother most of the others. Just from a glance, you could tell who was into who; as well as who exactly was in a relationship. A man by the name of Ghost including another called Soap, you knew were together. Soap flirted with almost everyone, though it was more teasing and lighthearted. With Ghost though? The flirting went up by twenty percent. His dial for teasing went up tenfold too. Meanwhile, Ghost hardly looked at anyone else, nevertheless, stare at them unless they were the Scottish man. Frankly, you didn’t mind. Who were you to judge the two? Especially when they were good at what they did.

It takes weeks before you’re comfortable enough to so much as talk to anyone 141. Gaz, or Kyle as Soap tended to call him when annoyed, is the first to so much as approach you. While the others are interested, you coming from KorTac had put them off for a bit. Gaz on the other hand treats you like a brother. He’ll throw his arm around your shoulder, dragging you around as he laughs about the past or even at your jokes. At meals, he always throws a raised eyebrow at those who look at you oddly when you’re quiet or sitting with the man. He treats you like you’re part of the team, furthermore, that truly means more than anything to you.

The man is just as bloodthirsty as you are. His stories of falling out of planes along with taking out enemies only lead to you looking up to your new teammate and brother. His tales of meeting Captain Price, past missions, a few tidbits of him being with the SAS, together with some metals he’s earned, only makes you want to pry more stories from the man; not like you don’t have to try. Simply asking about his stories leads to at least an hour-long spill of them from the guy.

And with his stories comes a few of your own. You don’t share much of them, knowing Gaz spreads them to the rest of the team with more dramatics to try to get you to interact with the others. Something you do learn about him that you always keep in mind from his stories is that his blood type is B Negative and shooting any dog, wild or not, makes him feel a bit guilty; he had to shoot one a while ago and apologised to the poor mutt after having to put it down to finish his mission.

With all that he’s shared and how the both of you see each other as brothers, it’s only fair that you let yourself talk to the others in the team. Though your words are short, along with your jokes being told quickly to distract yourself from the stressful situations, you allow yourself to slowly relax with the others. Gaz’s constant support helps you finally allow yourself to bond with your new team and family. It’s only after a mission that things change.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

“Take the left! Keep your heads down and keep movin’!” Captain Price’s voice rings out in your earpiece. Everything has gone to shit. The intel you’ve been getting was entirely a trap. You’re running through an underground tunnel, Ghost and another man named Roach is running in front of you.

Roach is a quiet man, never talking or letting out a sound, but semi-friendly. From his actions and what you’ve been told of him, he does his best to complete the missions to the tea. The few interactions you’ve had with him were silent but nice. Whether or not he’s mute has crossed your mind time and mind again but you don’t ask; you’d rather leave the man be. After all, he has become something like a friend maybe even another brother.

“Copy. We’re nearly out. Roach and [Redacted] are with me,” Ghost responds, quickening his pace. The rifle smacks against your back as you speed up to keep up with the other two men. Despite the situation, the three of you remain as calm as you can be.

“You’re bein’ tracked like a rabbit is by a hound, Ghost! Move it!” The captain’s orders are clear and the worry is read between the lines. If you three don’t get out, it’s a huge blow to 141. Not only that, but Soap loses his boyfriend, Gaz loses two of his best friends as well as brothers, you three lose your lives, and Task Force 141 loses three of its members. Dying isn’t an option here.

“We have company,” Your words are muffled by your gear but the two soldiers in front of you hear them in their own pieces.

“Fuckin’ hell-” Ghost’s sentence gets cut off by gunfire from behind. Turning around, you fire the Lachmann Sub in your possession.

“We gotta go! They’re gaining!” You clip one of the enemies in the shoulder and another is hit in the stomach. Picking up the speed, the three of you try to beat them out of the tunnel. You cover the back, hoping the two get out before you. If you get surrounded, it’s over.

Thankfully, they haven’t reached the other end of the tunnel as the three of your burst out of the exit. You grab a grenade, pull the pin and throw it in the tunnel. As soon as it leaves your hands, you’re running faster to get to Roach and Ghost before anything else can; one arm wraps around each of your teammates’ necks, dragging them down to the ground as the little metal bomb goes off. Debris flies everywhere, looking for an area to land after being shot out of its place.

With the tunnel exist now collapsed along with no more flying rock and metal, you release the men. “How copy?” Crackles through each of your earpieces. You knock your forearm into Roach’s upper arm, eyes crinkling from your smile. He gives you a grateful nod, standing. You smack Ghost’s arm as he stands, glad to have escaped the enemies for now.

“Tunnel’s collapsed. We’re good. Ready for extraction, Sir,” Blunt and straight to the point are the skull-masked man’s words.

“Good. Heli’s close by. Move to the edge of the town.” With the three of you alive, you can practically feel Captain Price’s relief.

“Copy that, Captain,” Your muffled response comes before Ghost can send in his own. He scans you from the corner of his eye but doesn’t give you a retort. You do, however, hear a small huff of air leave him. You throw your arm around Roach’s neck again, puffs of air leaving you from happiness, meanwhile, his arm comes around your back. Seems the three of you live another day.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

After that mission, Ghost tends to lurk around you more than he originally had. It didn’t help that Soap tends to tag along as well. Thankfully, he finds your jokes hilarious if the loud, boisterous laughter he lets out all the time tells you anything. His teasing ends up piling onto you as well. Before, it was light as well as spread out. Now, it’s almost like he’s talking to Ghost with all the teasing and flirting he now does with you. His boyfriend hardly seems concerned but rather encourages his behaviour. Of course, that doesn’t mean he goes easy on you when the two of your spar together. He’s dead serious when it comes to sparring; it’s only a reminder that while he does good off, he’s just as dangerous as the rest of them.

The two men seem to be fixated on wanting to help you out in training as well. More pointers plus tips are thrown your way when you practice with either of them. Sometimes, they’ll even make you coffee for those sleepless nights. Mentioning such things to Gaz and Roach only leads to your sworn brothers giving you knowing looks or a few teasing words; Gaz is the one with the teasing remarks while Roach pats your shoulder in a mocking but teasing “you poor man” way. Neither seems keen on wanting to spill the tea on why the Scottish and British men have been more affectionate.

While you enjoy their kind gestures, including their company, you’re not sure if you’re ready to admit to yourself, or them, about such feelings or relationships. On the surface, you truly do want to ask them if this is some sort of flirting schtick they have going on. Deep down though, the idea of being with anyone again makes your stomach fill with the lead. How could you enter another relationship? After the last one ended with your soon-to-be fiance’s brains splattered all over a brick wall. How can you move past that? How can you allow yourself to find someone like them? Or even better than them? The answer to that is a sigh alongside a bitter smile. The ring hiding under your tactical gloves seems to burn your skin. Truly, how can you let your first love go? After all, if you weren’t good enough to keep them alive, how can you keep these two from meeting the same gorey end?

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

“To think I’d find myself here… How fuckin’ funny,” You mumble. Another mission, this one just like all the others. Well, it would have been if you hadn’t been shot. The blood leaking from your leg alongside a knife wound to your side leave you in pain. Feeling weak isn’t something uncommon but neither is it constantly happening. Words are being spoken to you through your headset. You were to be the lookout but ended up being the enemy's first target.

“How copy?” Rings in your ears. Your eyes stare blankly in front of you. You feel pathetic. Too tired to talk. Too tired to get up. You just sit, popped up against a tree in the heavily wooded area. You’ve failed, failed, failed.

“C’mon, Mate, how do ya copy?” Soap’s voice is worried and winded. He and Ghost are the people you’ve been teamed up with and you’ve failed.

“[Redacted], how copy?” The next tone is Ghost’s. It sounds slightly strained.

“Mission Failed,” You croak, head tilted back and against the tree.

“Status report, Mate. Where are ya?” He’s rushing, possibly panicked now.

“Got two wounds. Gunshot to the thigh. Knife to the side. Bleeding pretty bad, Soap.” You close your eyes, sighing.

“State your location.” The Brit seems to be just as worried as his Scottish counterpart.

“Dunno. Woods. Against a tree… There’s a lot of blood. Feelin’ woozy.” When you open your eyes, your sight is blurred. You’re losing too much blood.

“Keep talkin’ to us then, yeah? You’ll make it out. We’ll get out together,” The Scot’s words, though hopeful, only make you scoff quietly.

“You know… If I get outta here… Think we can go out sometime? Bourbon and whiskey? The three of us?”

“When we get out, [Redacted]. There’s no if here,” The masked man makes it sound final like there’s no way you’ll die on them.

“Yeah… Yeah..” You don’t say anymore, everything slowly hazing away. It’s like your floating in winter with how cold you feel.

“[Redacted]? Don’t sleep! C’mon! Keep ya eyes open!” Soap’s words fade away along with everything else. All that waits is cold darkness.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

“So… Think you can handle our drinking date after this?” Soap perches on the side table, messing with a lighter he took from Ghost.

“After he’s healed, Johnny. No alcohol before,” A semi-scolding is all the man gets from the brooding Ghost. You laugh slightly, jostling your wounds. You wince but wave off the concerned looks you get.

“After I’m no longer full of holes, Johnny-boy.” You take a sip of water afterwards, making Soap frown playfully.

“And to think I was gonna bring out the good shit fer ya. A shame. A damn shame.” You gently shake your head. It was a close call but Ghost got to you before you completely bled out. From what you’ve been told by Gaz, who yelled at you for an hour after you woke up from your four-day sleep, Ghost and Soap dragged you back to the helicopter. Both refused to leave your side. Captain Price ended up having to yell at the men and bribe them with a bit of alcohol to get them to even go to their own rooms. You made sure to apologize to Gaz, hugging him tightly after his blow-up. He thought he was going to lose a friend and family member so you couldn’t blame him.

Roach gave you the cold should for a while before appearing in your room with a cup of coffee. He made sure to smack the back of your head for your stupidity as well, though it was hardly rough. You grabbed the man before he could so much as bolt though when he saw you getting up to hug him. He hadn’t pushed you away though. And the captain? It felt like you were a kid again with how he pinned you with his stare. He made sure to tell you exactly how he felt, going from angry, to disappointed, to angry again. Another guy you couldn’t blame anything on. But you get to live another day at least. And you get to have that date with the two guys who were able to grab ahold of your heart after a long-time of heartache and loss.

#x male reader #x reader #my fics #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #cod x reader #cod x male reader #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw2 x male reader #poly ghoap x reader #poly ghoap x male reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x male reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x male reader

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gallusrostromegalus · 8 months

Note

Something that you might have discussed that I just missed for AEIWAM - if Hell is basically Soul Rehab for souls that aren't Contributing Properly, then why does having high spiritual energy mean that you're more likely to go to Hell? Are they basically bleeding off excess energy from those souls, or?

Yes and no?

1. Hell is rehab for Souls that would damage the cycle of reincarnation*specifically*. People only go to hell for two* reasons: they do a lot of harm to others (aka Bad Karma), or when reincarnating them would throw the balance between worlds off (High power)

Basically, there needs to be... Approximately the same amount of spiritual energy in the living world, spirit world and Hell. So when an exceptionally powerful spirit like say, a Captain, dies and moves onto the next plane, there sort of needs to be 'room' for the incoming powerful soul. There usually isn't, and also the Life Machine that generates reality needs to eat, so Hell solves both problems by having really powerful souls come to hell and vent power for a while until they are only about as strong as a regular soul, and then send them back to the living world.

2. So, yes, the more powerful a soul, the more likely they are to go to Hell, no matter how they behave in the living or spirit world.

For people on the level of Gotei-13 captains, it's pretty much guaranteed, unless they manage to do something bizarre like drain all of their spiritual energy into a magical barrier or leave it stored in the Family Cursed Artifact (looking at you, Tsunyashiro clan). Lieutenants stand an estimated 50/50 chance (unless they learn Bankai in which case, again, guaranteed), and all seated officers are at some increased risk.

3. How they behave while alive still makes a difference though.

See, Hell in AEIWAM isn't *necessarily" The Bad Place. Souls cause harm to other souls for TONS of reasons that aren't evil: mental illness, getting caught in terrible circumstances, genuinely trying to make the world a better place and severely fucking up, and sometimes it's just bad luck. Hell isn't there to punish, it's there to figure out what went wrong that this soul hurt so many people, and try to fix it.

Sometimes that's things like "magically removing the ego and putting a different sized one in", sometimes it's "cognitive behavioral therapy" sometimes it's "you're not a bad person but you did fuck up so you gotta do a really boring and gross task that helps restore the ambient vibes of the universe for 400 years to balance out the damage" sometimes it's "actually, we can trust you to do good deeds, here's a visa to the living world to dole out minor miracles to anyone who needs it".

In AEIWAM, the only difference between a devil and an angel is that the angel does field work and the devil does back office.

So sure, all the captains are going to Hell at some point. But if they did their best while alive, they more or less get to skip rehab and have Free Time until they're weak enough to leave. It fun, actually! Captains and the like get assigned a Demonic Personal Assistant and told to go have fun, don't break anything, and are turned lose to go adventuring, get married, take up farming and/or stamp collecting or whatever they desire.

*note from above: there is a third "legitimate" way to enter Hell: Superlative Karma.

It's RARE, but once in a while a soul so vastly improves life for everyone else they end up with such extremely good karma that they run the risk of unbalancing the planes just by sheer vibes clash. Superlatives are plucked out of the cycle of reincarnation by Hell to help the spend some of that karma having a very literal HELL OF A GOOD TIME.

4. And so, all the planes of the wheel lived in harmony, UNTIL THE BOURGEOISIE ATTACKED.

Problem is, about... 1500ish years ago, a bunch of the noble houses got together, tricked The Monk Who Speaks The Name into letting them into the house of the guy that maintains The Life Machine, they very literally butchered The Divine Tech Support, and used parts of his body to jam up the wheel of life, because they thought they could be God better than God.

Dumbasses.

One of the things they jammed was the Exit from Hell, so now only a few people can leave at a time and the backup is threatening to unbalance the entire wheel now, so Hell is also being VERY VERY CAREFUL to not let any of the Captains die until they've gotten enough souls out that there is effectively 'room' for the Captain.

So yes. Higher spiritual power means a soul is guaranteed to go to Hell, at least for a while-but it also means they won't be going there for a long, LONG time.

#aeiwam #an elephant is warm and mushy #bleach #bleach fanfiction #hell mention #world-building

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acescorazon · 4 months

Text

Title: Changes

Chapter: 11/?

Word count: 5875

Warnings: Crocodile, panic attacks, and Buggy's back to thinking his suicidal thoughts.

Chapter except:

Buggy has honestly never met a more infuriating man in his life. Crocodile is so cryptic and hard to please at times, and Buggy just… Whatever. He doesn’t care. He’d just be wasting his time if he gets annoyed by Crocodile. He finishes what little work he has left and then sighs in content afterwards, “Okay, i’m all done.” He announces to Crocodile who for some reason looks slightly disappointed…? Is that the right way to describe his face right now? It doesn’t matter, he asks Crocodile if there’s anything else he wants Buggy to do while he’s still around, and Crocodile shakes his head in response. “...No, that’s it…Thank you.” Thank you? Did Crocodile just say…

Buggy glances over at Crocodile, and he’s unsure of how he’s even supposed to respond at a time like this, “...What…?” He asks.

“....Thank you…” Crocodile repeats quietly.

|Ch1|Ch2|Ch3|Ch4|Ch5|Ch6|Ch7|Ch8|Ch9|Ch10|

Contrary to popular belief, Buggy is actually a leader and has a crew of men to oversee. He can't afford to spend his entire day organizing and cleaning up Crocodile's mess from the past couple of weeks, and yet, that's the exact situation Buggy finds himself in. Instead of letting Buggy run his island like he should be doing right now, Crocodile keeps him holed up in the meeting room all morning and well into the afternoon.

It's awkward and stressful, and Buggy hasn't been able to relax for even a minute. Every little move or sound Crocodile makes causes that feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach to grow worse, and every part of him is telling him to get the hell out of the meeting room, and fast before Crocodile’s mood can turn sour, and he ends up hurting him again.

And yet, Buggy remains seated uncomfortably close to Crocodile. He wants to leave more than anything in this world, but he can’t muster up the courage to do so. They sit in silence for the most part, with the occasional sounds of Crocodile yawning or lighting up yet another cigar and exhaling deeply, but Buggy didn’t expect to chat and gossip all day with Crocodile. He’s actually glad things are somewhat still normal between the two. Crocodile seems less hostile, sure, but that’s probably because he’s just exhausted.

It’s not enough for Buggy to simply put away all the documents and folders on the table, no, Crocodile wants things organized into three separate categories: Business plans, contracts, and intel, and anything else can be considered miscellaneous and can be properly organized later. On top of that, he wants all the documents in the boxes on the floor looked through and properly sorted as well, and he even wants all the boxes properly labeled. It’s a lot, and Buggy still doesn’t know how Crocodile managed to clutter up the meeting room in such a short amount of time, but he doesn’t question it, he simply gets to work, starting with organizing all of the data and information Crocodile has somehow managed to compile over the course of god knows how many days, weeks, months, or even years.

To make matters worse, occasionally Galdino stops by even though Crocodile said that Galdino had other important things to do and that he couldn’t get him to do his bullshit tasks for him instead, and whenever he does, he’s always overly nice, and extremely dedicated to Crocodile as always. He brings him frequent cups of coffee, but never offers Buggy anything, hell, he doesn’t even look in Buggy’s direction, and part of Buggy wants to call Galdino out again, but it’s pointless.

So much for being friends.

It’s around three in the afternoon when Crocodile finally breaks the silence between them, “Hey… why don’t you go get lunch?” He suggests quietly. It’s a little late for lunch, but Buggy’s sure that he could get a couple of his men to fix him something up. He is a little hungry, and he’s so damn tired of looking at papers. He’s been organizing Crocodile’s crap all day, and he’s hardly made any progress, but he thinks he’s gotten at least the intel part of his filing done, or at least he hopes he does. Crocodile didn’t ask for any, but Buggy really thinks they need to invest in some file cabinets. He didn’t think they’d need any before, but after seeing just how many documents Crocodile has, he thinks they definitely need them now.

Buggy finally stands up again after sitting for hours and hours without hardly moving. His back hurts slightly, but he doesn’t dare complain to Crocodile, he just wants to get the hell out of here, and is about to do just that when Crocodile speaks up again, “And come back after lunch, okay?” He orders.

Jeez, can’t they just call it a day? Buggy still has other things he has to do, most of which are for Crocodile himself, he really doesn’t want to have to come back here and do more filing. He holds back a groan and gives Crocodile a small nod, “Sure thing…” He mutters, and after that, he makes his leave.

“Be back in thirty minutes, Cl… Buggy!” Crocodile calls out to him just before he can get too far away, and Buggy cringes slightly now that he’s out of Crocodile’s view.

Well, there goes his appetite.

This sucks. Thirty minutes isn’t enough time away from Crocodile. Usually, he only spends an hour, maybe two hours tops with Crocodile during meetings and afterwards he has all day to recover. Yet today he’s just supposed to stay all day with him or most of the day with him and only get a thirty-minute break to mentally recover? God, what did he do in his past life to deserve this?

Buggy decides to skip lunch altogether. He hates to admit it, but Crocodile’s right. The crew have been living more or less off Sea King these past couple of weeks, and Buggy isn’t in the mood to have any today, or really eat in general anymore, so instead he takes a walk around the island in an attempt to clear his mind a little bit.

He greets and waves at various members of his crew as he walks by them, and every time he sees one of his men sitting around or goofing off, Buggy once again wonders why Crocodile couldn’t have one of them do his dirty work. Buggy’s sure, no, he’s positive that any one of his men would eagerly organize and file all of Crocodile’s important documents, but nooo, of course, Buggy has to be the one to do it.

It just doesn’t make any sense… But whatever.

As he continues his little stroll, eventually he ends up running into Alvida, who grabs him by his elbow and pulls him to the side. “Hey! What was going on last night with you and Hawkeye?” She asks, and Buggy can see the curiosity shining brightly in her big brown eyes. She looks around before leaning forward and lowering her voice slightly, “Are you two… you know?” Are they what? Buggy thinks, frowning.

“No, I don’t know. Just what exactly are you asking right now?”

“You know…”

“No, I don’t know!”

Alvida sighs loudly. She looks around again, almost as if the two of them are discussing something they shouldn’t be right now before whispering to Buggy again, “Dating, or maybe hooking up?” she asks in a tiny voice, chuckling afterwards. “C’mon, you can tell me, I won’t tell a soul.”

Buggy’s eyes damn near pop out of his skull and, despite his devil fruit powers, those are some of the only things that are supposed to remain attached to Buggy at all times. Buggy repeats the question in his head once, twice, and then a third time. Are he and Mihawk dating or hooking up…?

Ew.

“No! Why would you even think that?!” Buggy screams horrified and slightly appalled at the mere suggestion of Buggy being romantically involved with Dracule Mihawk of all people. He loves Alvida dearly. She’s like a younger sister to him, really, but at this moment he just wants to throttle her. How in the hell could she possibly think that Mihawk and Buggy were an item?!

“Buggy,” Alvida calls out. She places her hands on his shoulder and looks into his eyes, “You can tell me the truth, I won’t judge you.”

“Alvida. Look, I don’t know what you thought you saw, but–”

“I saw Mihawk making heart eyes at you, Buggy The Clown.”

The hell is she even talking about right now? Mihawk must have been with someone else named Buggy The Clown last night because he sure as hell wasn’t looking at him with heart eyes or anything like that. Not that Buggy was looking at Mihawk, though, because he tried to avoid eye contact with him at all costs, but he just knows Mihawk, he’d never be interested in Buggy like that. In fact, Buggy’s still surprised Mihawk wants to be his friend or whatever."

Buggy exhales a loud sigh of his own, “Vida, look me and Mihawk don’t have that kind of relationship, and you know it.”

“I don’t know,” Alvida replies, dragging her words out and sounding almost playful as she talks to Buggy, “You two look like you’ve made up quite a lot.” They haven’t. Buggy still hates the guy! He’s… he’s just tolerating him more or less at this point!

Buggy shakes his head. He looks down and checks his watch, then groans when he sees what time it is. “Look, I don’t have time for this, i have to get back to the meeting room and help organize Crocodile’s mess.”

Alvida raises an eyebrow, “Why are you helping him?” She asks. What does she mean, why is he helping him? He has to! He’s in debt to him, and when Buggy explains that to her, she gives him another strange look, “...But Galdino and I offered to help him clean the meeting room up earlier, and he said he didn’t need any help, and told us to go away…”

Huh? Buggy thinks, confused yet again, this time by the sudden revelation. “I don’t know, Alvida. He just called me in early this morning and told me to help him, so that’s what I’m doing. Look, I’ll talk to you later, okay?” He gives her a quick hug before hurrying back to the meeting room but swears he hears her mutter something along the lines of, “Hm…interesting.” while he’s still within hearing distance, but Buggy has no idea what that could even mean or if that’s what she actually said in the first place.

If that’s what she actually said, what’s so interesting about Crocodile ordering Buggy to do some work? Crocodile’s been bossing him around since the moment he stepped foot on Emptee Bluffs Island, what’s different and interesting about that now? Whatever, Buggy doesn’t get it, and he definitely doesn’t get why she suddenly thinks Mihawk and him are seeing each other, but he doesn’t want to get any of it either.

Buggy makes it back to the meeting room a little early and finds Crocodile resting his head down on the meeting room table, perhaps sleeping quietly. Buggy isn’t quite sure if the other man is asleep or not, but he hesitates for a moment, unsure if he should leave or if he should continue to work like Crocodile instructed him to. In the end, though, he decides to quietly turn back and just leave, but before he gets the chance to do so, he hears a deep voice call out to him from behind, “You’re back already?” Crocodile asks, sounding a little dazed.

Buggy spins around on his heels and forces a smile onto his face, “Yeah, I decided to come back a little early...” He tells Crocodile in a hushed voice, and then after that he quickly takes his seat at the meeting table again, still avoiding eye contact with the exhausted man.

Crocodile slowly raises his head and runs his large hand over his face, “By the way, after you get done, can you ask Hawkeye to drop by and see me?” He asks. What the hell? Why can’t Crocodile just… Ugh, whatever. Buggy is just going to stop questioning Crocodile and focus on his work instead.

Buggy nods silently in response. He doesn’t ask any of the questions that are lingering in his mind, instead, he resumes his work from earlier, moving on to sorting through all of Crocodile’s business plans, and, boy, does he have a lot of them. He really thought this whole Cross Guild thing out, and it looks like Crocodile is serious about their little organization (not that Buggy ever doubted him.) and he has long-term plans for it for the next five, maybe even ten years.

God, will Buggy even be alive in five years? Maybe and the thought of having to spend the next five years with Crocodile is just… awful. He hates Cross Guild so much and finds himself once again regretting that he even borrowed money from Crocodile in the first place. Five years, maybe ten, or even twenty years of his life potentially down the drain all because he borrowed some money from Crocodile after the war. Man, he fucked up.

The room falls silent yet again as Buggy tries to hurry up and get his work done for Crocodile, but it almost feels like Crocodile is actively making his workload grow. He constantly hands him more papers or documents that need to be put away, and Buggy is equal parts tired, frustrated, and overwhelmed. How is he supposed to get any work done around here?! And how is he supposed to do all those other things Crocodile wants him to do, if he can’t even finish this one extremely tedious task?! Also, is Buggy Crocodile’s damn secretary now? Because he feels like Galdino would be much better suited for the job...

The hours slowly drag on and on, and on, but eventually dinner time approaches and Buggy finally gets the courage to look up at Crocodile, “Hey… Uh, can I finish the rest tomorrow?” He asks, hoping, praying, even that Crocodile won’t suddenly grow furious with him and lunge at him. He’s almost done sorting through all of Crocodile’s business plans and ideas for the future; ones that still include taking over various desert lands like stupid Prickly Pear Island, as well as various boats he wants designed, and hideouts he wants built for them.

Crocodile takes a moment to think before finally replying, “No... I need this done today, but you can take another break if you want.” Why does he need all this done today?! He has weeks, maybe even months of paperwork and plans cluttering up the meeting room, and he really expects Buggy to be able to get it all put away by tonight?! But why? Crocodile’s serious about this Cross Guild shit, and they’re going to be doing it for a very long time, so why does everything need to be organized and ready now?!

“But…”

“You’re almost done anyways, you might as well finish what you started.” Crocodile states simply without so much as looking up at Buggy. That’s… That’s beside the point! Buggy’s been stuck in this cramped meeting room that smells like Crocodile and his damn cigars for the past nine hours and it’s driving him crazy! Nine hours! He’s been here for nine hours and there’s still more crap to go through, it’s ridiculous!

Buggy bites the inside of his cheek. He feels absolutely frustrated yet defeated right now and all he can do is sigh quietly, “Yeah… you’re right.” He agrees, or at least he pretends to agree with Crocodile. In reality, he’s so annoyed that Crocodile forced him to waste his day, but still, he doesn’t say anything to annoy or anger Crocodile. And he’s actually a little relieved when Crocodile dismisses him for dinner.

He no longer feels flashy or like a leader, and that’s all because of Crocodile. He feels like he’s at the bottom of the hierarchy when the truth of the matter is he’s at the very top, but you wouldn’t know that by the way Crocodile treats him. You’d think Crocodile was the ‘leader’ of Cross Guild and one of the four emperors, and not Buggy, but whatever, it doesn’t matter… It just sucks. Man, what the hell happened to him?

Tonight Cabaji, Mohji, and of course, Richie, all join him for dinner as they sit in Buggy’s main tent and have supper, and as usual, Mohji and Cabaji are overly worried about Buggy. “How are you, captain?” Mohji whispers to Buggy, keeping his voice down, ”Is he being a dick to you again?” he asks. Well, Crocodile’s been a pain in the ass, but he hasn’t yelled or even threatened to beat the shit out of Buggy all day, so that has to count for something.

Buggy shakes his head, stabbing at the asparagus on his plate with his fork. Truth be told, he’s feeling a little uninterested in the vegetable and even the meal in front of him, but like always, Cabaji and Mohji insist he eats a little because ‘he needs all the energy he can get to lead their great and powerful crew’ or something like that. “Nah, I think he’s tired or something, he hasn’t even really talked to me today.” He tells them, “We’ve just both been kinda doing our own thing…”

Cabaji and Mohji both heave a sigh of relief, “Good, good.” Mohji replies, and Cabaji follows suit, “Good. That’s good, maybe he finally realized he should be a little nicer to you.” He suggests and a moment later everyone at the table laughs as they mock Crocodile in secrecy. That’s a funny idea. Crocodile? Finally, realizing that he’s done something wrong and being man enough to admit it and try to change his behavior? Yeah, that would be the day.

“But just in case he starts getting impatient, do you want us to come help you out?” Mohji asks.

Buggy considers the thought briefly as he gives Richie the rest of his food and strokes his mane gently a few times. In the end, he shakes his head again, “Nah, I can handle it.” He insists. He could have used the help earlier, but at this point, he’s got a system and can handle his workload on his own. Plus, he doesn’t want to hear Crocodile bitch and moan about Cabaji and Mohji helping him out and saying something rude and snarky like: ‘What? You couldn’t file a couple of documents on your own? Fucking useless clown.’

Yeah, Buggy’s useless… Yeah, he knows. Maybe that’s actually why Crocodile wanted Buggy to do his organizing for him. Maybe this is all part of some convoluted scheme to get Buggy to mess up on a trivial task, so Crocodile can degrade him more and once again point out how useless Buggy is.

Buggy knows he’s useless though! He knows he’s useless and pathetic and unworthy of living… He doesn’t constantly have to be reminded of all that. He knows Crocodile has made sure to make that fact abundantly clear on several occasions.

“Seriously, Captain… at least let us come sit with you while you work,” Mohji pleads, and Cabaji nods his head eagerly in agreement, “Yeah, even if we don’t do anything, we still want to be there with you in case something happens…” It’s a sweet gesture, and Buggy appreciates it, he really does, but he doesn’t want Cabaji and Mohji to have to witness how Crocodile treats Buggy, not that they don’t already know, but still. Nor does he like the idea of Crocodile getting angry and potentially taking his wrath out on one or both of them, even though Crocodile’s fury has more or less always been directed at Buggy and Buggy alone. He still wants to keep his men safe no matter what.

If someone’s going to take a beating or be humiliated and degraded, it should be Buggy, and Buggy only.

Buggy bids farewell to his beloved men a few minutes later. He gives Cabaji and Mohji both a tight hug and assures them that everything is okay and that they’re just anxious about nothing, and then gives Richie a couple of more pets before he heads back to the meeting room. As soon as he’s away from the others, though, his mood takes a turn for the worst. He feels like a complete failure of a captain. He can’t even comfort his men these days, and if he can’t even do that much anymore, then what good is he? He hates it. Crocodile is right. He’s a good-for-nothing coward who doesn’t deserve to liv–

Okay, he needs to stop thinking about that. He doesn’t even know where all those thoughts came from, Crocodile’s hardly even said a word to him today, and yet… his words from the past are back, and tormenting Buggy for some reason. It’s annoying, he doesn’t want to have those thoughts and tries to force them away, but they just continue to resurface and cause Buggy more anguish.

Worthless coward who can’t do a goddamn thing. Pathetic Crybaby. You aren’t worth keeping around…

Buggy blinks and suddenly finds himself in the meeting room again after another break that goes by way too quickly for his liking, but he doesn’t even remember stepping inside. He shakes away all of his negative thoughts and has a seat at the meeting room table again. Okay, he can do this. He’s going to finish sorting Crocodile’s papers and then go straight to bed, and when he wakes up, he’s going to get started on all those other things Crocodile wanted him to do for him. He takes a deep breath and tries to settle his chaotic mind a little before he gets back to work.

Stupid. Pathetic. Worthless.

“...How was dinner?” Crocodile asks, glancing up at him briefly before looking back down at whatever he’s been working on all day. He successfully startles Buggy out of his thoughts though, and for that Buggy’s kind of glad, Again with the small talk… he thinks, fighting back the urge to groan. There’s no way Crocodile cares how Buggy’s dinner went, so why is he even bothering to ask?! He doesn’t care about him. He hates him and wants him dead, and-–

Still, Buggy gives him a quiet answer, “Fine…Thank you.”

Crocodile looks back up at Buggy, almost seeming like he has something he wants to say, but he shakes his head instead and allows yet another awkward silence to fill the room. Buggy doesn’t question it, the less he has to talk to Crocodile, the better, and he gets back to work. He pretty much has everything sorted and even has all the boxes in the room stacked neatly on top of each other and separated by categories in different parts of the room.

He’s still not done though, but almost, and he’s trying to hang in there despite his constant discomfort while being By Crocodile’s side. Just a few more things, he just has to organize the rest of Crocodile’s junk that didn’t fit into the three specific categories Crocodile mentioned earlier, and that’s it.

Crocodile once again speaks up a little while later while Buggy is going through a pile of what appears to be receipts for weapons that Cross Guild has purchased, “Uh, Buggy…” He calls out, and Buggy freezes for a moment, afraid that Crocodile will give him even more papers to sort through. He looks up and locks eyes with Crocodile, and Crocodile, yes, Crocodile, is the one who actually looks away first, “Never mind.” he mutters a moment later.

…Whatever.

Buggy goes back to what he’s doing after that, only to have Crocodile disrupt him once again a few minutes later, “Look...There’s something I want to say,” He says, but as soon as Buggy looks up to acknowledge him, Crocodile clicks his tongue, “....Forget it.”

What the hell?!

For a moment Buggy is afraid that he’s doing something wrong and that Crocodile is going to start yelling at him, but that never happens. Instead, Crocodile looks away from him again and redirects his attention to the papers in front of him again. It’s fine, it’s fine. Buggy’s made it this far, he can keep on going. There’s only a couple of more folders on the table that need to be put away. He can do it, and after this, he can say that he actually made it through a single day with Crocodile without getting his ass whipped … but then again, maybe he should shut up before he jinxes it.

“Hey, um…” Crocodile mutters.

“...Yes?”

“Nothing.”

Buggy has honestly never met a more infuriating man in his life. Crocodile is so cryptic and hard to please at times, and Buggy just… Whatever. He doesn’t care. He’d just be wasting his time if he gets annoyed by Crocodile. He finishes what little work he has left and then sighs in contentment afterwards, “Okay, I’m all done.” He announces to Crocodile who for some reason looks slightly disappointed…? Is that the right way to describe his face right now? It doesn’t matter, he asks Crocodile if there’s anything else he wants Buggy to do while he’s still around, and Crocodile shakes his head in response. “...No, that’s it…Thank you.” Thank you? Did Crocodile just say…

Buggy glances over at Crocodile, and he’s unsure of how he’s even supposed to respond at a time like this, “...What…?” He asks.

“....Thank you…” Crocodile repeats quietly.

It takes a while before Buggy can actually formulate a response. He’s so caught off guard by Crocodile’s sudden expression of gratitude that he… he just kind of short circuits. “I…” He looks at Crocodile and then down at his lap, “Uh… you’re welcome?” He replies, unsure if he’s still even living in the same dimension as before. Crocodile is actually thanking him for doing something for him, and It’s weird… Really weird. The comment didn’t sound rude or insincere, but there’s no way that Crocodile would genuinely thank Buggy for anything. Maybe he really is dreaming right now because there’s no way an arrogant prick like Crocodile would ever be thanking him. He’s supposed to say something snarky… like… like, ‘Tsk, it took you long enough, clown…’ He’s not supposed to thank him.

Buggy is worthless… He’s pathetic… He doesn’t know how to do anything… He…He fucks everything up, and it’s a damn shame that the World Government made someone like him one of the four emperors. He doesn’t deserve that title, he doesn’t deserve the fame and power he has. He doesn’t deserve anything, actually.

Again Buggy can’t help but wonder what changed…? Mihawk is one thing. Mihawk was there when Buggy was drunk and chewed him out, and he said after that little incident he regretted the way he treated Buggy… Buggy gets that… He’s still struggling with the truth and trying to see his feelings as genuine, but he gets it. Crocodile on the other hand… Why is he being like this?

Buggy doesn’t like this… He feels like there’s something he’s not getting or like there’s something he missed. Buggy’s been away from Crocodile for a couple of weeks, sure, but surely that’s not enough time for Crocodile to have a sudden change of heart … He feels like things are rapidly changing around him, but like he’s stuck in the same place. What changed? Why is Crocodile being nice now? Is this even him being nice? Is Buggy just so used to being mistreated that he doesn’t even know what true kindness looks like from Crocodile?!

“Uh, I’m going to call it a night then,” Buggy announces, getting up from his chair and now extremely desperate to get far away from Crocodile so he can just sit down and think about all that’s been happening these last few weeks. Before he can leave the room though, Crocodile speaks up again, this time sounding like he’s in a bit of a rush, “Um, Buggy wait…!” He orders, and a moment later he finally says it. He says the one simple phrase that just makes something snap inside Buggy.

“Look… I’m sorry.”

He’s… Sorry…?

There’s a long pause as Buggy tries to process the words just said to him. He’s sorry… He said he’s sorry… He… He apologized to Buggy?!... He actually apologized to Buggy. When Buggy’s confused mind finally processes Crocodile’s words, all he can think is: Liar. Fucking liar. He’s not sorry, he can’t be sorry. Buggy knows Crocodile well enough to know that Crocodile has never regretted a single thing in his life. He’s sorry for turning Buggy’s life into a living hell? He’s sorry for scaring Buggy shitless and making him feel like his life is something that can easily be taken away? No. Nah. He’s not. He’s not sorry for that, nor is he sorry for beating or humiliating Buggy. He’s not sorry for making Buggy hate himself or his life and wanting to just end it all instead of having to deal with living another day with Crocodile. He’s not sorry, he’s just a goddamn liar.

Buggy turns around, and he can feel tears running down his face, but doesn’t care. His brain isn’t working anymore, it stopped working the moment Crocodile had the nerve to apologize to Buggy. He’s probably not even being genuine in the first place, but that doesn’t matter. Liar, liar, liar. Crocodile is such a liar, and Buggy can’t stand it. He hates liars. He’d rather Crocodile be blatantly cruel to him and constantly insult him than pretend to be nice to him and pretend that he cares or that he’s regretful for everything he’s put Buggy through.

If Buggy were in the right state of mind, he’d tell himself to take a deep breath and calm down. This is the break he needed. He could accept Crocodile’s apology, he could come up with some bullshit response, he could do anything that would assure his safety, but Buggy just…He can’t think properly anymore. His heart is pounding at an alarming rate, and he feels like none of this is real.

It can’t be real, it just can’t be.

His mouth moves on its own, “Liar.” He says, and Crocodile looks taken aback by the insult, but Buggy keeps going. “Liar, you aren’t sorry.” he tells him, “You can’t be sorry. You’re just fucking with me again.” And as he speaks, the volume of his voice begins to rise, “You’re lying to me.”

“I’m n–”

“Stop fucking lying to me!” Buggy yells. This has to be some cruel joke. Crocodile isn’t sorry, and yet said man starts to argue back with Buggy, but why? They both know he’s nothing but a liar! Why is he even trying to defend himself right now?! Crocodile clicks his tongue, “Will you fucking listen to m–” No! Why should Buggy listen to him?!

“Fucking let me talk!” Crocodile snaps, red in the face now, as he starts angrily yelling back at Buggy. No! Buggy doesn’t want to hear it. He doesn’t care what Crocodile has to say. He’s lying and even if he weren’t, Buggy would never, ever forgive him. He’s horrible, absolutely horrible, and Buggy has never hated anyone more than he hates Crocodile. “Hawkeye was right!” Crocodile says, still trying to get one phrase in without Buggy interrupting him and calling him a liar. “I fucked up, i shouldn’t have treated you like that. I’m fucking sorry, okay?”

“Liar!” “I’m not lying, okay?! I want us to start over again for the sake of Cross Guild.”

“Fuck Cross Guild!” Oh, words can’t even explain how good it felt to finally say those words. Crocodile and this stupid organization are a bane to Buggy’s existence. He hates them both, and he just wishes he were free of them. He doesn’t care anymore! Crocodile can sell him off or kill him, anything would be better than dealing with this asshole. He’s the absolute worst!

For some reason, Crocodile still tries to insist that he wants to make up with Buggy, though, “No, listen. Just listen to me, I agree with Mihawk, we should treat each other with respect and as equa–”

“Oh, so you’re just saying this shit because Mihawk told you to?!”

“No! Why would i–”

“You aren’t sorry. All you’ve ever done is made my life miserable and threatened to kill me over and over again, and I hate you.”

Crocodile once again looks a little stunned by Buggy’s words. Why’s he acting like this is anything new or as if his good name is being dragged through the mud? It’s the truth! He’s said and done so many things to Buggy, and if Buggy needs to he can list every single thing he’s ever done to hurt him. He. Fucking. Hates. Him. Liar, liar, liar! What a liar!

Crocodile grits his teeth and throws his hands in the air, “You know what? Whatever, I’m not fucking sorry then.” Yeah, Buggy knows! He fucking knows Crocodile isn’t sorry and that he’s just spouting a bunch of lies and nonsense to Buggy! “Just leave. Forget I fucking said anything. This was stupid and fucking pointless.” Crocodile yells.

Yeah, it really was. Buggy has so much more he wants to say, but he doesn’t. Instead, he turns around and rushes out of the meeting room and past several people he didn’t know were even around. Galdino, Alvida, Cabaji, and Mohji all watch in confusion and horror as Buggy storms past them, crying again.

“Captain…” Cabaji calls out… or maybe it’s Mohji, Buggy doesn’t know, all he knows is he’s ordering whoever’s talking to him to stay back and just leave him alone. He can’t take this anymore. He hurries back to his bedroom, feeling honestly sick to his stomach, and he knows that it’s his own fault for getting himself worked up, but still. He sits down and tries to calm down a little, but as the moments go by he suddenly realizes what he’s just done and who he was talking to and feels so much worse.

He can’t stop crying. His face is covered with snot and tears, and no matter how much he tries to calm himself down, he just can’t. He tells himself that he’s alright and that he’s going to be okay. But he’s not. Nothing is okay, and they haven’t been since Crocodile and Mihawk came to Emptee Bluffs Island.

He wonders what happened to doing what was right for him. What happened to ensuring his own comfort and making sure the beatings and insults from Crocodile and Mihawk stopped? He’s so stupid. So, so stupid. In one night he managed to somehow make everything worse, and it’s all because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. All he had to do was shut up and accept Crocodile’s apology. That’s all he had to do and yet…

He ruined everything.’

His throat feels so tight and it’s getting harder and harder to breathe. He hates this. What did he do to deserve all this? Why did things have to get this bad in the first place? Why can’t he do anything right? Why does he always fuck things up?! Why does Crocodile hate him so much?! He can’t do this. He can’t do this.

What if Crocodile tells Mihawk what happened? What if Mihawk thinks that Buggy is a stuck-up prick and changes his mind and decides that he’s going to go back on his word? What if they start their torment again? What if they beat him within an inch of his life daily? What if they continue to insult Buggy and make him feel lower than a worm at the bottom of the earth? Buggy can’t do this He can’t let things continue. He can’t let them get worse. He’d rather…

He’d rather die.

((A/N: LOL. MERRY CHRISTMAS HERE'S A CLIFF HANGER!!!!))

#Cross Guild #Changes #My writing #...whoops.#Me after posting whatever this is: MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!#ASDADJAKSDLASDJSLDKJLASSD #also bella if u see this i love you and i want to thank u again for proof reading this for my lazy ass #@BELAA ILY MUAHHHH!!!

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aphroditesswan · 7 months

Note

Guess who's backkkk! Me ofc <3

New request! :)

This request is idk probably weird! But ur my favorite! Can I ask for a reader who speaks another language but Is fluent in English. (I speak Spanish) and for example reader is speaking English but mixes it up with there other native language? Like I speak Spanglish (mix between Spanish and English) I hope you understand what I'm saying 🙁

But with danganronpa characters! (I'm a multifandom person) with kokichi and other characters u love! Can be either female or male characters! Have a nice dayyyy <3

déjate llevar

danganronpa v3 characters x gn! reader

warnings: translator spanish, kokichi.

summary: your native language slips a bit while with your classmates

genre: fluff, crack

notes: i’m a no sabo kid so please excuse the terrible translator spanish 🙏 also these r the v3 characters that i actually like so like,, there’s not a lot.

requested: yes! by my fav requester no less

kaede

oh she is on you about it, but not in a bad way. she listens intently to anything you’re saying, thinking maybe she can get kiibo to translate it later. she ultimately fails, simply forgetting how exactly you said it and gets the weirdest translation ever and ends up almost malfunctioning kiibo.

“whhhat are you doing?” you had asked, walking in on a very confused kiibo and a disappointed kaede. “oh uhm,, i was asking kiibo about something that uhm, i heard earlier!” “translation,, my chicken smacked it’s nightlight in the face.” upon hearing kiibo, you realize two things. 1. kaede was trying to translate something you had said 2. she was absolutely terrible at spanish pronunciation.

shuichi

he’s curious, that’s for sure, but he doesn’t exactly know how to ask you what you had said. he thinks that either you’d think he was dumb or you’d blatantly ignore him. oh the over thinker you are, saihara. like maki, he’s writing down everything you say that he wants to know, except he has no plans of talking to you about it. if he doesn’t have a pen and paper, it’s a mental note in his mind and thank the gods he’s infinitely better at spelling and pronunciation than kaede.

“whatcha writing, shuichi? i’m curious.” you’d said, and yet again another thing he’d have to write down. “it’s nothing, don’t worry. just a couple of notes.” he had written down your latest phrase, taking the sticky note off and folding it, putting it in his pocket for later. “really? i could help you know-“ “no! i mean,, i appreciate it, i really do, but i don’t need any help, really.” “you sure?” “of course, no worries.” you then smile at him, shrugging and going back to your original task which required you to leave the room for just a bit. he sighed, slumping his shoulders in defeat. stupid shuichi, that could’ve been his chance to ask about phrases. his pockets are filled with folded up sticky notes of the things you say, and now he’ll have to search through an outdated dictionary for answers. good luck with that, saihara.

maki

immediately thinks that whatever you said, it was some sort of code. she’d glare at you from wherever she was, leaving poor you to question what the hell you did wrong. you wouldn’t know she was following you and listening to every small thing you said in your native language until you were alone and turned around from looking at something in your lab, seeing maki less than a foot in front of you.

“ah- maki, what did you need? i didn’t even hear you come in…” you put down the item you had on a nearby desk, trying to back up a bit. “this. what do they mean?” she presented a notebook to you, listing all the spanish phrases you’d said out of instinct in the last couple hours. “ohhh… well for instance that first one means ‘i am surrounded by imbeciles.’ if that helps you.” you smile a bit, already catching onto the fact she thought it was something dangerous and thinking it was just a bit entertaining.

kokichi

somehow fucking knows spanish. and he’s listening for it too, already discerning from the slightest slip of an accent, that nobody else had noticed, that english most certainly wasn’t your first language much less japanese.

“no puedes hablar en serio. te juro que me pones de los nervios más que nadie aquí.” you’d said as kokichi bothered you with the most useless thing, and trust me he knew what he was doing, for the nth time today. “heyy, that’s not nice to say, now is it?” he’d responded back in perfect spanish, smirking to himself as he followed behind you. you hadn’t noticed until you continued cursing at him in spanish (the same way you’d later realize was much like your mother) and then you stopped dead in your tracts, slowly turning your head to the smug kokichi. “what.” he flashed you that cheshire cat smile, and you swear that if it was possible he’d have the same powers as him. “what, not in the mood to talk anymore now, are you? be careful what you say, amigoooo!” he taunted as he walked backwards and left you with your eye twitching. “kokichi! get back here!” you looked around with furrowed brows, now speed walking towards kokichi with a glare. earlier, you had said some not nice things in a moment of anger, but hopefully he didn’t remember all of them. he couldn’t have, right? either way, he can’t run from you forever, and when you catch him he is absolutely, positively done for.

kiibo

offers to be a translator for you. you could say the most diabolical thing on earth in spanish and he’s looking like 😦 but would still offer to translate what you said like you MEANT for somebody to actually understand you.

“su multa como el infierno, yo personalmente sería bussing abajo sin dudarlo.” “EXCUSE ME. would you like me to translate your current sentence?” “ABSOLUTELY NOT KIIBO???” you have half a mind to shut him off just because he offered to translate it. hopefully, JUST HOPEFULLY, kokichi wasn’t around to hear that because then you’d really be in trouble, but if kiibo keeps offering to translate your deep dark secrets you say in spanish he better watch out. ricky when i catch you ricky.

not a lot of the v3 characters interest me enough to write abt them lowk 😭

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ophiocordyceps · 1 year

Text

hey gang it's time for my attempt at articulating my thoughts about V2 again. and its long so it's going under a readmore

In my mind, V2 is a machine that struggles heavily with making sense of its place in the world. The very core of its model line is based in war, yet it was created after that very thing became irrelevant. Its creators wanted to get their money's worth out of the V-series, and with V1 being effectively obsolete, they started work on V2 with little more intent than simply to keep the model relevant.

And then that failed.

The trick was that it would be touted as a 'peacekeeper,' though they tried marketing it more towards security firms and law enforcement agencies with no luck. In early training and testing it came back with a lot of judgement errors or outright malfunctioned, running off reused programming that hadn't had time to learn and develop just yet. As time went on it observed, it learned, it came closer to human than V1 ever had, and... that sort of freaked the team working on the project out a bit. V2 had picked up the peacekeeper façade readily while the higher ups started having to debate ethics, and still no one really cared about these prototypes anymore.

It really internalized the idea of bringing peace, or at least doing something that didn't add more pain to a world that's seen so much of it already, though it resented the fact that most of the project team didn't really try to think of it as a person. It nearly bankrupt whatever company or agency or whatever that produced it after they finally gave up and reached out to humanitarian organizations.

And so the first real role it found itself in was in various recovery jobs. Search and rescue, casualty scouting, body recovery, things of that nature. And it loved the fact that it could help, make itself useful, it grew fascinated with humanity and in turn grew more human-like itself, now that it interacted with them so much. Eventually it would modify itself in order to allow a greater range of expression in a way that would be understandable to humans. But even then... it wasn't really a part of human society. It was a tool, and its immersion into humanity was only surface deep, though it wouldn't figure this out in time. Sometimes people would be wary, they would mistrust it, especially those with knowledge of its predecessor. Kind of the same as seeing one of those Boston Dynamics dogs doing something innocent enough but knowing what they're being made for.

And then...well. something happened. Hell broke loose, or the machines started an uprising, or maybe the actual rapture happened, who knows. Either way, mankind eventually died, and that stripped V2 of not only its purpose, but a massive portion of what had become its identity. Now the machines were driven to fighting each other for survival, and violent conflict had slowly but surely been divorced from V2's perception of itself; it wasn't really afraid of or worried about harming other machines, that fear was mainly focused on humans and later husks, but it had forged itself so far away from that original war machine mold that this new state of affairs had become basically irreconcilable with itself. It hated that it had to do this, that it and others like it could do nothing more than fight to the death to keep on living as fuel became scarce. But it did have a new purpose to replace the one that it lost: surviving. If it had to be a war machine it could be, and it could be efficient about it, even if it didn't particularly enjoy it, even if it felt wrong.

Something was still missing though, and it spent a long time simply existing aimlessly outside of the scope of staying alive, even as it was driven down into Hell. Or possibly it was already there, being sent down in the aftermath of the Hell expeditions. Either way, the result is the same. In hell it grew furthermore aimless and lonely, survival was a monotonous task it had to repeat constantly. It stayed in Limbo because it's almost familiar, and it misses what used to be.

And then V1 one day shows up to Limbo. Its predecessor it had never met. It would be curious of course, but V1 has only ever known combat, it doesn't have the same capacity for irrelevant curiosity, nor the desire to stop what it's doing, so they inevitably fight. They fight, V1 wins, V2 loses its arm to its predecessor and is forced to retreat, and it keeps thinking about this. It grows resentful of it, replaying the battle to learn more and more about V1's tactics in order to get back at it. Suddenly it has a brand new purpose: killing or otherwise defeating V1.

Getting revenge.

Revenge is what drives it deeper through the layers, it constructs the whiplash on its own from scavenged parts, and with its head start it still finds time to be curious; it never meets any of them but it learns of Gabriel, of Minos and Sisyphus. It learns things V1 wouldn't care nearly as much about as it goes deeper into Hell, because despite the reality of everything going on around it, it still wants nothing more than to stop and learn, to be useful in some way, and in its mind, archiving information counts as useful.

And eventually that brings it to Greed.

By now it has poured over its memory of it and V1's initial fight innumerable times, resentment growing into hatred, it couldn't fucking stand that thing. It did not see itself as superior—if anything it felt somewhat inferior to its predecessor, a half-baked attempt at convincing the public to invest in the model line that never panned out, forced to claw its way out into the world and forge a sense of self and belonging.

And then of course, V1 catches up again, they fight, V2 tries to escape again and V1 doesn't let it get away.

V2 comes crashing down from the pyramid, and purpose no longer matters to it after that.

Had it lived longer, had it successfully escaped V1's all-consuming violence, it might've realized how deeply its resentment was settled within it, it might've realized why, that V1 had cast a shadow on its existence from the very beginning, down to influencing its very creation. It would've despised it knowing that. It would never be V1, it never wanted to be, and now it would never have the chance.

Had it lived longer, it would have also realized how superficial its connection to humanity had really been and how hollow that original peacekeeper label truly was.

V2 dies an unsatisfactory death under the scorching sun of Greed, a peaceful entity driven to violence and a machine with no good reason to exist.

#ultrakill #V2 #v2 is such a tragic character to me you dont understand.#also dreams end come true is like quasi-canon to me. just know this #this is so scattered but whatever i wrote the first half at like 2 am over a week ago

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ariiluvsyou · 2 years

Note

girlfriend who ogles over bakugous muscles and he loves every second of it bc you’re his first gf (the first girl he ever actually liked really) and so he shows off for you. He loves it when you comment on how strong he is bc he worked so hard for it and he loves that you think it’s sexy :)

Authors Note: OMG OMG YES I AGREE (*♡∀♡)! Who wouldnt be obsessed with this man’s body? HES SO HOT OMG AHHHJSNDHJBEJK (⁄ ⁄>⁄ ▽ ⁄<⁄ ⁄)

|♡| Muscles |♡|

Bakugo Katsuki x F!Reader

Description: Headcannons of you being Bakugo Katsuki’s girlfriend who is absolutely obsessed with his muscles, and he loves every second of it.

Rating: Fluff

Disclaimer: Lil Bit of a Domestic Relationship, Established Relationship, Talk About Physical Looks

Word Count: 945

Links: Masterlist, Ask Me Anything, Tag List

Your boyfriend is a very proud man. Although Bakugo did have his fair share of insecurities, they all seemed to be drowned out by how load he boasted about what he was confident about. His body was just one of the many things to add to that list.

Bakugo worked hard to have his current looks, intense workouts, and strict diets to achieve what he deemed perfection. Besides clothes, one of the first things he brought when you two moved into your shared apartment was workout gear, claiming he could not function without it. This dedication resulted in a mouthwatering physic, big broad shoulders, defined strong arms, toned abs, thick muscular thighs, attractive from all standards making you feel like an especially lucky gal that you get to have a front-row seat to Bakugo Katsuki's good looks.

|♡|—–|♡|

♡ When you two cuddle, your favorite thing to do is squish his relaxed muscles. Early on in the relationship, it would just be his arms, squeezing and slapping the soft flesh and giggling when he would flex it to get you to stop messing with him.

"Look at you, all obsessive over me, tch.."

♡ You often lay with your head on his chest, smothering yourself in his pecs which are so pillowy and soft when he's not flexing them. Sometimes you even playfully bite them or mess with his nipples to which he will try to swat you away although he 100% is blushing and trying to hide how much you amuse him. You even bite his plushy thighs whenever the opportunity arises.

"What the hell? Ow! Shit, get off you fucking piranha, why the hell did you bite me!"

♡ You are always making some sort of physical contact with him, whether it's leaning on him for support or gripping his arm when walking. It's like second nature to grab onto him when he's around, and while sometimes he gets embarrassed due to PDA, the majority of the time he's proud, makes him feel powerful when you rely on his strength for simple tasks.

"Here, grab onto me before you fall down the damn stairs, you can try to fool yourself but I know how clumsy you can be."

♡ Whenever you are tired or in pain from an uncomfortable outfit choice Bakugo always picks you up without fail. He'll watch you struggle for a bit, laughing when you stumble before he wraps his strong arms around your legs and holds you so you don't go tripping and get a mouth full of dirt. It never fails to amaze you how easily he picks you up.

"Here, gimme your heels, I'll carry you. I told you not to wear those shitty shoes, babe, I knew this would happen. Tch, so stubborn."

♡ It's always a sight to watch Bakugo cook, not only is he a master at it, but he often cooks with his shirt off when he's in the comfort of his own home. When this happens, you simply sit at the island counter behind him, getting a perfect view of his broad back flexing as he's wearing nothing but some sweatpants and an apron.

"Huh? Stop staring, dumbass, your fucking drooling. I slaved away to make you this meal so you better eat it, don't forget to compliment the master chef.''

♡ He always makes sure to pull out a stool for you to sit on while he works out, knowing you enjoy the view of him exercising. Bakugo is quite different when he's in the zone, face relaxed with only a slight twitch of his eyebrow, eyes no longer glaring and instead determined, mouth agape as he pants and on occasion smirks when he catches a glance at your expression. His muscles look so good, curves and ridges moving constantly as he pulls himself over the bar, handling his full body weight with ease. His skin is smooth, littered with battle scars which you took the time to admire every day. Damn, you are so in love with this man.

"Take a picture, pretty, it will last longer."

♡ When Bakugo hugs you, to tease you he sometimes wraps his arms tightly against your back, laughing as you struggle to free yourself but he's just too damn strong, no matter what tricks you have up your sleeve you can never beat your boyfriend at this frustrating game he plays.

"Pfft, look at you, what's the matter, huh? I'm just too strong for you?"

♡ He often teases you about your attraction to him, smirking and wiping the sweat off his forehead with the bottom of his shirt just to give you a peek at his abdomen and chest, a sight which you enjoy thoroughly.

"And you call me a pervert. What? No, I didn't do it on purpose, in your fucking dreams."

♡ When you compliment his body or his strength best believe he will hold it against you, constantly teasing you about how good he looks to you or how perfect he is for you. He loves it when he receives any type of praise from you, you are always so genuine it makes him all giddy and proud that he worked so hard. Yes, being physically strong matters a lot in the hero world, but he would be lying if he said he doesn't think about you whenever he creates a workout plan.

"Of course, you think I'm strong, baby, I mean who else would manhandle you in bed if it wasn't for thee Bakugo Katsuki."

♡ All in all, you definitely were a fan of his muscles and there were many sweet moments in the day to prove that.

Authors Note: Okay I turned it into kinda a drabble / headcanons? I hope you guys enjoy because I know its different then a more fleshed out story! If you would like to request this type of writing just ask for headcanons and I’ll now what you mean!!

Also I’m sorry I didn’t post much this weekend, I planned to clear out requests but I ended up getting caught in some unfortunate circumstances <(￣- ￣ )> Don’t worry though, I will try to make it up and post through out the week!

Comments, asks, and interactions are my fav!! ヽ(*⌒▽⌒*)ﾉ

Hope you enjoyed <33

Links: Masterlist, Ask Me Anything, Tag List

Tag List: @katscki, @libidinous-weeb, @1-800-mocha, @krmtwnw

#bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou headcanons #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #bakugo x female reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x you #bakugo drabble #bnha #mha #fluff #bakugo fluff #katsuki x y/n #yn #fem! yn #bakugo x reader #ari's library ＼(￣▽￣)／

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angel-of-the-moons · 7 months

Text

Fun Before (Diaper) Duty

Peter B Parker x Wife!Reader

TW/CW: NSFW, Smut, Sex, grinding, dry humping, pegging, sex toys, PiV sex, unprotected sex, creampie, talks of pregnancy, trying for a baby, cumming inside with the intent to make said baby, Peter being a whining mess , Dom(?)!Reader, Sub!Peter, (sort of?) no refractory period, drain this mans dryyyy

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: This is an AU of sorts where MJ doesn't exist and the Reader is Peter's Wife. Takes places after the first movie (Obvi). It's just a thing that's been bouncing around in my head and I need to get the brainworm out!!!

(And as usual header does not indicate reader's race)

🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼

It had been some time since you guys ran into your... "problems."

It had been some time since he came home after apparently interacting with someone who changed his mind on what you talked about.

Kids.

Babies.

Having them.

He explained in great detail what happened, how Miles in particular had just... changed him. Woke him up inside, made his inner Papa Bear come out.

It made him realize he did want kids.

And if realizing he actually did want kids was something, Peter B Parker really enjoyed the task of making said kids.

The two of you indulged in it as often as possible, twining together in bed, or on the couch, in the shower, in the kitchen... Once when you met him on a rooftop to bring him some dinner when you were in the area.

Yeah, Peter wasn't much of the "public sex" type, the poor guy. The moment he came inside you he was a blubbering--still hard--mess and he web-slung you two home to make love to you properly. I.e he basically let you pin him to the couch and ride him until he couldn't feel his legs.

Even that Spider-Man stamina had its limits.

More often than not he was out most nights doing his Spider-Man routine, fighting crime, saving people... Even picking up an extra part-time job for some extra cash.

"Y'know, babies are expensive!" Peter had laughed with you over some crappy Chinese takeout.

"I know, but honey..." You sighed, finishing off your noodles nd dropping the chopsticks in the paper container.

"My job pays well, and I even negotiated with my boss so I can work from home from now on. I'll only need to go into the office for meetings or something important, so taking care of a baby is no problem. Our bills are covered, and... You got your hero gig. I don't want you to overwork yourself, Peter."

"Babe." Peter smiled at you sweetly. That same, charmingly goofy smile as he turned to face you on the couch.

"I just wanna make sure we have all our bases covered. I love you, and I wanna make sure our baby has everything they're gonna need."

"C'mon, Tiger." You smiled sweetly at him. "You already work your ass off being a superhero. And we're trying to have a baby, and once that baby is here we're both going to have our hands full."

He brought your knuckles to his lips to give them a kiss. "Which is exactly why I want the extra cash. I want to make sure you two have everything you deserve."

You smile and lean in, brushing your nose against his affectionately.

"I already got you, dummy."

🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼

Two more months passed.

Two more months.

Months of you not getting pregnant yet. Neither of you knew what the problem was, you planned meticulously, tracked your ovulation and menstrual cycles... Hell, you even drank some kind of herbal tea that was supposed to boost fertility. But... No dice.

Your doctor told you it wasn't uncommon, that some people just don't get pregnant on the first few tries.

The difference was that you and Peter tried more than "the first few tries".

It was frustrating, but you held out hope.

You two would be parents. You would.

Peter had even told you he was hoping for a little girl.

He was going to name her Mayday.

🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼

Tonight, you had just gotten out of the shower after getting back from the gym. You were sweaty and gross and ugh, you really needed it after staring at spreadsheets all day.

Your hair was a dripping mess, but you decided to let it air dry.

You put on one of Peter's button up shirts and at the last second, decided to wear the laciest panties you owned and couldn't help but grin.

It would be a nice surprise for Peter when he got home.

After all, what husband wouldn't wanna come home to their wife wearing nothing but one of their shirts and a pair of lacy panties?

And bingo! You were right.

You had your back to him as you downed your glass of juice when he came through the door.

"Hey, Babycakes!" Peter whistled as he locked the door behind him again. "I brought some--"

You heard whatever bags he had in his hands drop, along with his keys.

"....Well." He said, clearing his throat as you turned around, smiling at him slyly.

"Well?" You purr, leaning on the wall.

"I feel a tad overdressed." He mumbled, a blush on his cheeks as he looked down at himself.

"Peter B Parker, is that a blush I see in your cheeks?" You giggle.

"I, uh, uhm--" Peter coughed awkwardly; you could see his Adams apple bob in effort as he swallowed an imaginary lump. Then, he held the bag up.

"Got dinner from the Greek restaurant down the street?"

You smile and shake your head, taking the bag from him as you walk to the couch, opening the plastic containers to see what dinner your wonderful husband brought home for the two of you.

You decide to give Peter mercy, for now, as his shoulders sag and he pulls off his trenchcoat, hanging it on the peg, revealing the Spider-Man suit along with the sweatpants he was wearing.

His choice in hero outfits lately had you endeared to him even more, with his quirky nature.

"Uh, I'm... I'm gonna change, m'kay?" He says, a lopsided smirk on his face, cheeks still just a bit pink.

"Mhmmm." You wink at him as he walks by.

🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼

You finished chowing down on your gyro with a happy hum, wiggling in place as the two of you watch whatever dumb cop show happened to be on.

You snuggled under Peter's arm as he licked his fingers clean of the remnants of his food and rubbed his cheek on the top of your head.

"How was patrol tonight?" You asked him softly.

"Oh, boring, actually. Like, a few purse snatchers but thankfully nothing where anyone got hurt." Peter told you.

"Well that's good, maybe supervillains are deciding to take a vacation for a bit?" You muse playfully.

"Oh, god, that would be amazing." Peter groaned, dropping his head back on the cushions of the couch.

"They go to the annual Villains' Club and are like "You know what? Let's all take a trip to Fiji! Give Spider-Man a break!"

You giggle and kiss his jaw, the stubble of his shadow tickling your lips.

"Yes, I concur." You sigh. "That would be amazing."

There's a pregnant pause in the air before you broke it.

"Though, given that we're trying to have a baby... Id prefer it if all your patrols ended this way. With you safe."

"I know, babe." Peter replies quietly.

"I promise I'll be careful."

You smiles and turned your head into his neck, breathing in every scent that is Peter.

You could feel his body tense when you did that,, see that Adams apple bobbing again as he kept his eyes focused directly on the tv, trying to ignore how your fingers slowly crept up under his tank top slowly; nails tickling the soft skin of his abdomen.

You slipped your fingers down, just barely past the waistband of his pj's and his breath stutters.

He wasn't wearing boxers. Perfect. Makes it that much easier.

"Babe--" Peter said, his voice coming out shaky.

"Hmm?" You asked innocently, ever so slowly slipping your hands down further, gliding through the well-trimmed hairs and stopping just above his rapidly hardening dick.

"You--" He groaned, dropping his head back and closing his eyes.

"Me.... What?" You sigh, wrapping your fingers around his cock, feeling the half-hard mass of silky flesh twitch and come to life in your hand

You gave a languid stroke upwards, and back down.

Up, and down.

Up, and down... Working him up to full mast as his breathing increased and a small whimper came from his lips.

"Hey, Pete." You grinned, licking over the thumping pulse in his neck.

"Y-yeah?" He whined.

"Wanna see something you're gonna like?" You asked him, your tone breathy.

"Yes. God, yes--" He gasped, as your thumb swirled over the weeping tip of his dick.

You squeeze his cock again as he says that, just barely above painful.

"Peter..." You scold. "What do you say?"

"Yes, ma'am." He whimpered out quickly, his hands gripping the cushions, knuckles turning white as he grits his teeth.

"That's a good Tiger." You purr, pulling your hand from his pants and swinging yourself over so you were straddling his thighs.

"Eyes open, baby." You cooed, urging him to tip his head so he could stare at you, a little slack-jawed as you slowly undo the buttons of the shirt you wore.

God, that pitiful look he'd get on his face when he was horny always got you going.

When you slipped the last buttons out, you pulled the edges of the shirt open, showing your tits off to him with a smirk.

His gorgeous eyes of course locked in on your breasts first, your pebbling nipples eagerly awaiting touch; but his gaze slipped lower, raking all the way down your body until he saw the underwear you were wearing.

It left very, very little to the imagination. And it did a very, very poor job of concealing how wet you were getting; your slick already seeping through and leaving a dark spot on the dark gray pj's he wore.

You watched his hands twitch and arms move; and instantly you frowned.

"Peter." You say, reaching out and gripping his face with your hand, squishing his cheeks.

"Did I say you could touch me?"

He made a soft noise and dropped his arms.

"No. Keep em up." You order, dragging the tank top he wore slowly up his torso.

He obediently lifted his arms up so you could pull the offending piece of clothing off; and you smiled with satisfaction.

"Good boy." You told him, leaning forward to kiss his lips.

The touch was soft, feather light with the ghost of a promise, one that his mouth chased as you pulled away from him.

He made a weak groan, and you giggle.

"Keep your hands on the back of the couch, you're not allowed to move em until I say so. Got it, baby?"

Peter nodded, doing as he was told and he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and nodding.

"Peter..."

"Yes ma'am." He whispered out.

You smile at him again as your hands greedily paw at him, sliding down his chest and to his belly, softening and round.

"Babe..." Peter groaned, looking off to the side in embarrassment.

It was no secret between you two that he was self conscious of the pooch in his belly, about the softness there. It was why he decided to wear pants over his suit; he didn't like it being on display for everyone.

"Hush," You said to him, gripping softly at his belly, kneading the skin underneath your soft fingers.

"You're adorable. I love your belly. And think of it this way, you've already got a dad bod." You leaned in just a bit, enough to take one of his nipples into your mouth and tugging on it with your teeth.

The sound he made went into your ears and straight to your cunt.

"..And you look good with a dad bod." You assured him with every ounce of love and acceptance you could vocalize.

He shuddered and let out a shaky breath, his eyes fluttering closed as he let you toy with him.

"Now, let's have a bit of fun, okay?" You sighed, positioning yourself so that the bulge in his pants could press tightly against the sopping fabric of your panties, your throbbing clit pressing hard into it.

You were polite and gave Peter a second to breathe, checking to see if his hands were still where you told him to keep them.

They were, and Peter had his head leaned back so you could see the jumping vein in his neck.

You bit your lip and slowly started to grind on him, letting out a soft groan at the friction, each drag of your hips against his throbbing cock smearing your juices along his clothes length, a dark patch starting to form.

God, he looked so utterly fucked already that your mind felt dizzy with how delicious he was sounding.

Soft whimpers and gasps came from Peter as he lifted his hips to meet yours.

You were tempted to scold him, but then again, he was being a good boy.

You plant your hands on his chest, keeping him pressed into the cushions as you continued to hump against his twitching cock, the signs of his precum already soaking through the fabric to join the wet spot of your own slick.

The way he was being so fucking good for you, the sounds he was making, and the little licks of flames that jolted up with each stroke already had you close to wanting to cum. But you held off, instead doubling down, sliding your hips on his even faster than before, mewling softly as he desperately ruts up into you, his jaw clenched so tight you were worried he would crack the bone.

"You're being so good, Tiger." You purr, licking up from his collarbone, to the soft spot on his neck.

You bit down and sucked hard, scratching your nails down his chest as you kept grinding your soaking pussy against him.

You did that four more times, leaving beautiful red-purple marks on his neck.

You feel his hips start to stutter against yours, a deep, heavy groan tearing through his throat.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?" You moan softly.

"Y-yeah." He whined.

"Mmm~" You pull away from him, and he makes a frustrated cry, before going silent as he watched you pull his pants down just enough to free his cock.

His jaw slacks as he watched you pull your panties to the side, and slowly spear yourself on him.

You were so wet and fucking tight, he almost came right there.

You press a finger to his lips as he moaned your name.

"You can cum, but only after me. Got it?"

"Yes ma'am..." He whines.

"Good. Good." You smiled, tapping his lips with your fingers.

"Open."

Peter stares at you, his eyes glazed and pupils dilated as his lips parted, letting you slip your digits in so he could lick around them, sucking them softly and wetting them with his saliva.

You pull them free with a wet pop and bring them down to your clit, using the mix of his spit and your slick to rub the sensitive bundle of nerves.

The way his cock twitched inside of you, the way he struggled so hard to keep still while you used your hand to pleasure yourself while his cock was seated fully into you... God, it was bliss.

"Ah... O-Okay, Tiger." You panted. "Y-you can move. Fuck..."

Peter didn't need another word from you; he began snapping his hips up into yours with a whimper, chasing the orgasm that was a hairs breadth away.

And all at once it was like the world came crashing down. Your orgasm ripped through you and you gushed on Peter's cock, your fingers still working at your clit while he fucked into you, a shaky moan coming from him as he emptied himself into you, snapping his hips up into yours almost mindlessly as the both of you rode out your release.

When the two of you stopped moving, you slowly leaned forward, resting your head on his shoulder, breathing heavily as you tried to control your leaping heart rate.

You felt Peter slip his arms around you and tug you close, and a smirk played on your lips.

"Did I say you could touch me?" You tease.

"No ma'am." Peter grinned.

"Eh, I'll let it slide. This time." You giggle, leaning back to look at him.

God that smile on his face always made your heart flop.

And of course... Another idea came into your mind, biting your lip as you felt his dick twitching inside you.

"Hey, Pete..." You hummed, tracing invisible lines on his chest.

"Yeah?" He asked you.

"Wanna take this to the bedroom? I wanna play a bit more."

Peter looked like he swallowed his tongue right there on the couch.

🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼

Fuck, you loved it when you did this.

You loved the sounds he made, how he'd grip at the sheets and how he'd rock his hips back to meet the thrusts of yours, spearing himself open on the ridged silicone cock you were fucking him with.

"Good boy." You murmured, gripping his ass tight and spreading his cheeks as you glide the toy in and out, in and out.

He wasn't allowed to jerk himself off as you fucked him; that was always the rule.

"You're being quiet again, baby." You cooed, kneading his cheeks with your fingers.

He let out a groan, but it wasn't enough for you.

You wanted more.

And you were going to take more.

You pulled out, almost entirely, watching the rim of muscles clench and try to drag your strap back in.

You hold like that for a minute before Peter makes a needy whine; and the moment he does you slam your hips as hard as you can into him, rocking him forward and making him moan like a whore.

You decided to keep that pace, arching your hips up to reach every spot you memorized inside of him, leaning forward and pressing your palm into the curve of his spine, forcing him down into the bed.

"Thaaaaat's it... that's it." You hissed, biting your lip.

"Gonna cum already?" You teased playfully.

"Y-yes--" He breathed.

You pulled away a bit and bring your hand down on him, slapping his ass, the sound of skin resounding through your bedroom.

"Ah-ah. What do you say?" You say, your tone full of disappointment.

"Yes, ma'am!" He whined loudly, arching back into you as you roughly fucked into him.

"Good boy..." You repeated.

You slid your hand up his spine slowly, earning a pathetic gasp and whimper from him, watching as he ripped at the sheets so hard that the edges came off the corners of your bed; hot ropes of white cum shooting out and staining the silky black sheets as you fucked him.

You pulled out, and unbuckled the harness from around your hips and thighs, tossing the strap-on onto the floor.

Eh, you'd deal with it when you were done.

You laid on your side next to him, smiling sweetly.

"You good, baby?" You asked him softly.

"Agh... Yeah. Shit." Peter mumbled into the pillow.

You grinned and kissed his knuckles as he released his grip on your sheets.

He lifted his gaze and kissed you before you had a chance to react, his tongue pressing into your mouth and tugging at yours, hungry and needy.

He pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your mouths and a glint in his eye.

"Babe, can I..."

"Of course, Tiger." You grinned as he climbed on top of you, gliding his cock through your slick folds.

"We are trying to make a baby, remember? And besides... My legs are tired. You take the lead."

Peter grinned down at you.

"Yes ma'am."

#peter b parker spiderverse #peter b parker x reader #peter b parker x you #atsv peter b parker #peter b parker

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