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#cries and thirsts when this finally shows in the tags
rileykeouhg · 11 months
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TARON EGERTON Numéro Netherlands (May 2023)
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ur-favboy · 9 months
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Pretty Risky
⋆.*ೃ✧→ Top Male reader
CONTEXT→ Y'all Fuck in a public park 🏞️
TAGS → Top Male reader, Male Reader, X male reader, AMAB! Reader, Scaramouche, Scaramouche x male reader, Genshin, sub! character
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Scara's trembling arms linked around your neck, His form shuddering as visible ropes of sweat formed on his pale skin, subtly moving around your lap, grinding on your hard-on situated on his ass. The sound of people at the park, children playing and the chatter of the people around the both of you made his pussy wet. A wet patch showing on his panty under his pleated skirt. Scara bit his lip feeling your callous fingers slide across his spine, smoothly slipping their way under his skirt and going inside his pink lacy panties.
"A-ahn..~!" He moaned under his breath, feeling you use your two fingers to rub on his already swollen clit, The simulation invoking pretty mewls out of his lips, still attempting his best to stay quiet. His pretty lips turned into a cute pout, hearing you only laugh at his poor efforts of keeping his noises in. He squeaked in surprise as you suddenly (and easily) lifted him and placed him on the branch you were previously sitting on. You kneeled in front of him. Your large hands lift his skirt, looking up at him while you use your teeth to move his panty to the side. The sight of your sharp canines made him shiver, A needy whine escaping his throat. "Let your noises out baby, nobody will hear nor see you." You guys were in a secluded part of the public park, hidden behind a beautiful large oak tree.
Suddenly, Scara's eyes rolled to the back of his head. A loud moan escaped from his mouth as he tightly gripped your hair feeling you eat his pussy raw, Your tongue skillfully eating everything his pussy can offer. The juices of his arousal, everything. You ate like a man starved. As if his pussy is the only water to quench your thirst. You licked, sucked, and ate him out as if it were your life's purpose. Moaning in pleasure at the taste of his juices. You scarfed further, wanting more of his heavenly taste.
Scara's tongue lolled out of his mouth, pupils blown into hearts, drilled into the back of his head. "AHHNG!-" HMPHH!!~" "AH~~!! F-FUCK~~!!", wails of pleasure spewed out of his saliva-dripped mouth, toes curling in pleasure as the knot in his stomach grew and grew at the feeling of your hot tongue slurping and eating his pussy.
"AHNG~!!-" T-THERE!! RIGHT TH-THERE~~!!" choked cries kept erupting out of his mouth, back arching while one hand is tightly gripping your hair, his feet high in the ground, toes curling while you tightly grip his hips, pulling his heat closer and closer into your hot mouth.
A choked cry left his throat when he finally hit his high, Squirting in your warm mouth while gripping your hair tighter than ever, eyes crossed at the back of his head. Vision painted white, toes curling and a fucked-out smile on his lips. Drool at the sides of his mouth.
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ichxraaa · 2 years
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what is a monster?
# kinktober [ii] ft ryōmen sukuna & monsterfucking
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+ ft! chubby reader
WARNINGS; fem!reader, monsterfucking, double penetration, rough sex, squirting, size kink, cunnilingus, spit, dumbification, mentions of sukuna breaking your bones, marking, MDNI!
A/N; umm, yeah my thirst for monsters is showing on this, reblogs and comments mean the world to me <3
TAGGING; sukuna’s favorite @kagejima, lovely @lithielana
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This moment right here feels like reckoning and it smells of absolution. One he knows doesn’t deserve, but still he finds in the warm and wet center of the core hiding between your legs. His angs scratch on the plush flesh of your thighs spilling from the top of your tights and he can already savor you.
He always smells you before seeing you and he knows you’re already dripping, always ready to take him and his two cocks grow bigger as he thinks about the way you’ll open up for him and only for him.
After so many years lived, all the throaths he’s dug his sharp claws into and all the ribs he’s heard turn to dust between the strength of his grip and he still gets on his knees to feel alive while slurping on the essence of your apex.
Your cries for mercy merely foreplay as he claims what he has deemed his. He runs his tongue between your folds with furious precision and his nails dig into the soft and round curve of your hips as you ask him to slow down. “It’s too much,” you say. And yet he can see and feel the way your clit throbs in excitement before he sucks on it with malicious intent.
Your back arches off the bed and a new mouth coming from his hand reaches to torture your nipple with an abrasive touch. You whine and kick against the air as he feels you convulse into his mouth. And your face as you try to compose yourself feels like a gift meant only for him.
You always look so small when he cradles you in his arms, a pair tightly wrapped around your soft middle, never tired of the way you feel against him and the other propping you by the ass with a death grip to impale you on his cock. He’s never cared about your pleas of being too big for him, amused by the fact that you still haven’t realized how easily he could rip you apart if he wanted to.
And he finds it odd at times too, that he still can’t get rid of you. Maybe it’s the way that you pant and cry as he stretches your tight hole around his two cocks. Maybe it’s the way your nails dig into his chest as he sets a brutal pace that has you squirting around his cock, body shivering in an embarrassing spasm that you can’t control.
There’s only lies as you try to justify your actions. It makes things easier as you get down on your knees for him. Maybe if you keep pretending you’re protecting someone instead of willingly giving yourself to him things will be easier…
Maybe you can pretend that the way he proudly looks at you as you swallow the glob of spit he just gifted you doesn’t make your pussy clench around the brutal stretch of his two fat members inside you.
Sukuna still can’t decide if he still wants you to be afraid of him. You being afraid of all the things he could do to you if he were to choose to do so on the other hand? That he lives for, he breathes and rejoices in the way you tremble because of him.
He’s nestled on the back of your heart, feeding on the knowledge that you are his, on the way your eyes grow glossy with submission as you gag around the rough intrusion of his fingers in your mouth. And when you are drooling and all teary, eyes rolled all the way to the back of your skull as he empties himself inside of you, your tight walls squeezing around him in a such a way that has him breaking your skin with the force of his grip around you he feels like he’s finally found true enlightenment.
He is still a monster and you're still a victim, and yet it doesn’t feel like that anymore.
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bollur · 2 years
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I love your Percy x readers. I've needed them because ever since watching the show I have Percy brainrot.
If it's no trouble, can I request a Percy x reader where they were travelling before VM formed and reader finds out another name on Percy's list is someone who hurt the reader and their like 'why?' and Percy's like 'because I love you'. How's that? Is that okay?
a/n: hello, boo! it is totally okay - i have a brain cell that aims to please. if you can imagine it, i will try my best to make it come to life. i only hope this is okay for you. i feel like this is horrible.
i do wanna apologize for this taking a bit to get here and my absence on here as of late - my health hasn't been the best the last couple of days, but i promise i will empty my request box!
tag list: @imaginesfire
Small puffs rolled between parted lips, rising through the crisp air to be ripped through by rain that cut like a stinging knife. You hated these kinds of days, needing to trek from the small house on the outskirts of the city to get provisions and things you needed. Usually, it was tempting to wait until the next day or at least until the rain had cleared, but something willed you to come out now.
It was huddled up under a tattered blanket beside a pile of rundown crates and eating a piece of moldy bread in an alley, you saw him. You did not stop right away, no, heading on your way to the market to grab a few days' worths of goods, you didn’t want to approach him empty-handed. What you did offer him, this trauma-stricken looking man was fresh food and a gentle ‘more where that came from’, if he wanted to take you up on a warm safe place to sleep.
Did you know him? Absolutely not, but he looked no younger than you, and something about the scars and still healing wounds that peeked through his tattered clothing and his skeptical look, paired with a nervous glance toward each end of the alley, giving you the sense he was hiding. “You’ll only attract more attention to yourself this way.” and with that you took off your cloak, wrapping it around him and pulling the hood up.
Your heart winced when he flinched at your movement, as though he was unsure of the kindness he was receiving, waiting for the deceiving end of it and it gave you nothing more than the desire to caress his swollen cheek, but you controlled yourself. The last thing you wanted was to scare him away.
From then on, Percy had become your best friend - well, only friend. It took time, no doubt, he didn’t even talk to you for the first week, and then it became single words such as ‘yes’ and ‘no’. You didn’t mind, of course, always smiling at him and never pressuring him to progress quicker than he was comfortable with unless it came to cleaning and wrapping the wounds he still bore that he tried so adamantly to get you to leave alone. Though, the first one you noticed festering, you pushed your limits and forced him to let you take care of them.
You never questioned him, no matter how much you wanted to know, but the fear in his eyes that you would, was evident. The most you did was allow yourself to cry in your room at night for him.
To say you were ecstatic when his first one-liner bubbled to the surface would be an understatement and when he finally offered you his name: ‘Percival’, you almost cried on the spot, but it was out of happiness.
You never had much to offer him, only a comfortable living, but he seemed more than appreciative of that. Things could have, would have been perfect, but you had no idea of the thirst for vengeance and blooming hatred that resided in him. His past was unknown to you, nor was it needed - it was his past and to you, it didn’t define him. Even when he began working away with iron, day in and day out, confessing to you about a dream that he had and the idea of an invention that came with it.
But it didn’t go by unnoticed to you at how your Percy was slowly changing with each day he spent in the forge that passed. The smile he had begun to show slowly withered away, his stare more distant as his mind was a million miles away and what you thought was slowly beginning to shine through seemed only a remnant now.
The full details of said creation were never fully revealed until something heavy wrapped in cloth clunked on your table one day while you were making tonics.
Having your full attention, he began unwrapping it as you stood up. “What is it?” you asked, tentatively making your way around the table.
“A means to an end,” he told you confidently, peeling away the final fold and metal glinted in the warm cast of the fire, making the room seem cold.
Casting him a worried look, the tips of your fingers brushed along the metal before you lifted it up and inspected it. "It's a bit heavy," you murmured, now using both hands to support it. It was interesting, to say the least. You had never seen anything like it ... just like you had never seen the names engraved on it that you just noticed. "Who are these people?"
Sir Kerrion Stonefell.
When silence fell over the room, the crackling of the firewood was the only thing you could hear other than your pounding heart and the click of the barrel as you turned it.
Doctor Ripley.
Pushing boundaries was the last thing you wanted to do, but you were beginning to worry about him. You didn't know what this was, but there was nothing good you felt coming from it and you feared the intention he had with it, with the people he wanted to remember so desperately he took the time to etch their names into metal.
Professor Anders.
From your peripheral vision, you watched his hands clench, gaze cast into the fire as it raged on and consumed wood it fed on. "Liars, murderers," his voice was dark, pushing a chill along your spine. "They took everything from me."
Lord Briarwood.
His description was vague, but you were smart enough to put it together. The marks on his skin, his fear, and extreme distrust ... what you held in your hands now. You could only imagine what had happened to him to cause him to go down such a path. Tears burned your eyes now.
Lady Briarwood.
"One day I plan to return the favor," he confirmed the fears that rattled your brain.
Your breath caught in your throat as you spun to the sixth barrel, a familiar name sticking out to you and it almost seemed to glow eerily as you lay it back down onto the table. Your heart fluttered as you stared for a moment, shocked before looking up and finding his eyes. You knew the name of the man, knowing him personally. Percival, however, did not, and your brows furrowed. "Percy," you began softly, reaching out and gripping one of his fisted hands. "Why is this name on there?" you lightly tapped it with your free hand, finger lingering on it.
"I -" His free hand raised, knuckles brushed the cheek that had once borne a red mark a few days prior. "I saw what happened and I ... " Your eyes widened slightly in realization as that day came flooding back to you. It was someone who had been wanting to see you in a more romantic light. You shot down their efforts over and over, not wanting to let them on, but they couldn't seem to let you go. For some reason when they confronted you about seeing a man - Percival - coming to and from your house all the time, you felt the need to try and explain yourself. Excuses, they called them and struck you during the whole fiasco. The whole thing was stupid when you think back to it, and you had let it go, to be honest. "I can't let that go. Not now."
The hand on the invention moved to cup his cheek, his gaze moving back to the fire almost ashamed. "It's okay."
"It's not," his lips pursed, now leaning into your touch as though he could sink away into it. "I - I've ..." His jaw clenched, refusing to look at you. "There's been ... so much pain that's been done to the ones I love and it's all been gotten away with," his eyes squeezed shut. "But not you - I can't. Not if I can do something about it now." You tried to reassure him, repeating your words, tenderly taking his other cheek. His own came up to rest over yours, curling into them and gripping, tears stinging your eyes. "No one will ever get away with hurting you again. Not while I love you."
All you could do was slide your fingers through his hair, pulling him into your comforting embrace that he immediately returned, relishing in one another, and you allowed the tears to run freely.
Progression had been taught to you in positive terms, no matter what aspect it was a part of, but looking back over this time that you had with him - you weren’t quite sure if Percival’s self-progression was inherently good. Though, there were undoubtedly still parts of him that were innocent - you had seen them - even if either of you were unaware of that part being slowly devoured into a deep, dark trench that would show to be the biggest fight to get out of.
But you would there, like you have been, to help him every step of the way.
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lazysimp · 3 years
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Hey hey hey it's bakugo x male bull reader. {PLOT} bakugo Is overprotective of his little bull cuz all the other animals aka bulls want reader. so every time he See's the other bulls messing with his bb🥺 he has to run up and scare them away which might end up reader being breed cuz they weren't giving him enough attention
Click Here for Fem reader
A/N: I have never written anything like this before so let me know what you think. These are the features I imagined Bakugou/reader has. I hope you don’t mind that I did this more as thirst than a full fic.
Warnings/tags: NONCON/DUBCON, bull boy (Idk how to tag that), animal hybrid fic, breeding, blowjobs, anal sex, male reader
When you had first stepped foot onto the soft grass you immediately attracted dozens of eyes but one pair stood out.
They belonged to a bull not any larger than the rest but his vivid red eyes gave away how dangerous he really was. You made a mental note to avoid him at all costs but it seemed he had a different idea
Everywhere you went those same red eyes followed you. You tried to lose him in the crowd but that only created a new problem, the other bulls.
Their harassment started off small, a few wolf whistles here and there, but soon it escalated into something darker, they tried to corner you whenever you were alone, using their size to block you in, you had no chance in hell of scaring them off.
Somehow every time they almost had you, they always would back off at the last second, their eyes wide with fear. You had always been too relieved to care why they left.
But one day as the sun set you decided to lay under a new tree, wanting some privacy from the prying eyes, unknowing that you were being followed. As you lay your head down on the soft grass a dark shadow covered you.
You crack your eyes open, not wanting to give away that you were awake but the figure above you knew better.
His large hands seal themselves around your heels pulling you towards his body. He rested on his knees, his cock already standing just from the sight of you.
For weeks he had worked to earn your trust, defending you from all the others, making sure you had plenty of food, the best places to sleep, and even protecting you from himself.
But watching you sleep under his tree, whether you knew it or not, was too much for him to handle, he needed to claim you and now.
Your sweet eyes looked up at him with fear, unsure what he was going to do, you had not meant to invade his space, you just wanted some time to yourself from the others but you had unknowingly waved a red flag looking so sweet and innocent under his tree, oh you were going to be his.
Not wasting any more time his head descended, taking you into his mouth. At first, you had tried to deny him, unsure what he really wanted, but as his tongue twirled around the head of your cock, you forgot why you were fighting.
Before you could reach your final peak his mouth stopped and he rose to his knees giving you the chance to stare at him. His fat cock stood straight up nearly touching his belly button. His stomach was covered in a fine layer of blonde hair and he had a thick tuft of hair just above the base of his cock.
You try to scramble away, your brain finally able to think again but he was faster, lifting you briefly into the air before setting you down, pushing your head down into the grass while forcing you to lift your hips.
“That's it,” he groans, finally able to catch a glimpse of your tight entrance. His cock ached at the thought of finally being able to fill you with his cum, filling you to the brim while you came around him.
Not wasting any more time he uses his thumbs to spread apart the cheeks of your ass, he let out a long stream of spit, wetting your tense hole. He admired as you squirmed around under him, your little tail waving frantically.
“Shh,” he cooed, stroking the soft skin of your back with his fingers, “I am going to make you feel so good, fuck you until your stomach is full of my cum.”
You wiggle even more, feeling the strange feeling from earlier return.
“That’s it,” he lines his cock up with your entrance and before you could draw in another breath he pushes forward. He ignored your pained cries and keeps going until he is fully seated. He feels bad causing you pain but he can no longer deny the need to breed you.
After giving you a minute to adjust to his intrusion he pulls back his hips, admiring how your hole flutters around his cock. Yes, he had never been more certain. You were his, and he was going to show all of them. The only way he will ever allow you to leave his side is with his cum dripping from your hole, showing all of them who you belong to.
Soon your cries grow into pathetic whimpers as his thick cock brushes past a wonderful spot inside you, sending small sparks of pleasure through you. You grab the grass under you, needing something to hold onto as he bred you.
Pleased to see you had finally accepted your place his hand reaches down, grabbing ahold of your cock he starts to stroke it in time with his thrusts. You had no hope in stopping the blinding pleasure crashing through you finally reached your peak.
Feeling you cum around him sent Bakugou over the edge. He leaned over, groaning in your ear as he released inside you, your clenching ass milking his cock for every drop of cum.
You both fall to the ground, still resting under the shade of the tree. "Mine,” he mumbles, "That sweet fuckin' ass is all mine," his lush lips press a gentle kiss to your forehead as he pulls you in close.
You snuggle in closer, already feeling his essence starting to drip out from your abused hole but you were too tired to care. Your life had just changed drastically and you wanted to freak out but as he tucked your head into his chest the only thought you had was how warm you felt.
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allthingsarmin · 3 years
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fckboy armin? + degredation is always a good combination <3
I was so excited to write this dose of Armin brainrot, omg 😩
If it’s alright with you, anon, I did this request in more of a headcanon format, but the ending is more of a fanfiction format. I’m also sorry I took so long to write this omg.
MINORS DNI!
Fem!Reader, FemBodied!Reader
TW: Mentions of NSFW topics + degradation, mean!armin, manipulation, fuckboy topics
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin whose style resembles that of the horny, manipulative, ghost-y men on campus yet is just too hot for you to handle. The way he wears dark silver rings on his left thumb, middle, and pointer fingers that accentuate his slender, pale fingers and clean-cut nails. The way the small, dark tattoos on his knuckles, right forearm, and collarbone add an aura of mystery and aggression to his being that just exudes sex. The way he wears a gold chain necklace with distressed jeans and a plain t-shirt that’s just a little too tight and shows off his pecks. Or the way he wears long black joggers and an oversized long-sleeve black shirt that makes him look taller. The way he doesn’t wear his mask correctly, always hanging on one of his ears which compliment his stud earrings and devilish smirk. The way he is broke because he’s always spending money on the newest, trendy shoes. The way he always uses way too much cologne… One look at him, and you can sense his ‘asshole attitude,’ but you can’t deny it makes your lower regions pulsate.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who’s body is so perfectly sculpted and toned that it leaves you thinking dirty thoughts in class. The way he sits in class with his sleeves rolled up, laying back relaxed in the chair, right leg bouncing out of boredom as his hard cock becomes noticeable in his grey sweatpants makes you want to run to your dorm and touch yourself. The way his abs call out to you to graze your fingertips against them when he lifts his shirt up to wipe away the sweat after walking home from the gym. The way his beautifully slender fingers hold his phone or push his hair back when he’s frustrated makes you think about how good they would feel inside you. The way his accentuated collarbone peaks through his thin t-shirts, allowing you to see the hickeys and imprints of love bites from god knows how many women makes you jealous. The way his skin is so pale and so soft that his blonde leg hair becomes barely noticeable. The way his golden hair brings out a plethora of the shades of blue in his eyes, and oh how his haircut suits him perfectly, shaping his jawline very well. How his beautiful blue eyes dangerously lure you into him, the soft but manipulative stares he gives you. How he can’t seem to maintain eye contact with you for more than three seconds because he looks at your breasts. The sinister yet sexy smiles he has plastered upon his face when talking with his friends about ‘some other whore’ he fucked the other day… Armin is attractive, and he knows he is attractive. Though you hate how arrogant his looks have made him, his suggestive stares and lip bites from such a handsome man make your heart flutter and mind only focused on one thing.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who is always posting thirst traps on instagram. You know… The pictures with the squinted eyes and the bitten lower bottom lip, either showing off his money or new shoes, pictures beside a nice car, suggestive pictures with the new girls he’s been fucking recently, biting his chain necklaces because he thinks it’s sexy. Only follows ‘successful’ men and offensive meme accounts but mostly follows half-naked women and supermodels. Leaves nasty comments on ugly womens’ pictures, calling them whores while he’s in hot girls’ DMs sending unsolicited dick pics and asking for nudes. Has thousands of followers, mostly from the party girls and rude men who go to his college. Won’t let you tag him in a photo unless he ‘looks hot.’
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who takes slutty gym pictures with his shirt off, abs out, shorts low enough to see his V line, hands in his hair, and a wink. Sends it to every girl in his snapchat contacts and posts it on his story with the ‘slide up’ text.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who hits you with the “you up?” at 2am on snapchat after ghosting you for two months. Tells you how much he misses your lewd moans and sloppy cunt, and then after pressuring you to give him nudes, he saves them and then doesn’t talk to you for at least a week.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who is so intelligent and dangerously manipulative. Who is so smart that he doesn’t need or want to pay attention in class, who convinces you to let him keep the nudes you sent him on snapchat, who reels you right back in when you try to move on from him.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who was nice to you at first, befriending you when you looked so alone, shy, and innocent, who only chose you because you looked so easy to take advantage of when he finally closes in on you.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who says he doesn’t want ‘any of that relationship stuff’ because all of his exes were crazy and that he only wants to date hot chicks.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who only texts you at ungodly hours during the weekdays and plays games like ‘20 questions’ with you so he can ask you if you’re either a virgin or a whore, if you like oral, if you’ve thought about him in dirty ways before… or truth or dare, asking you if you if you want to be his slut or daring you to send him lewd pictures of yourself.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who takes every chance he can get to turn anything sexual: the way your skirt is just a little too short that makes him suddenly grab your upper thighs, the way you innocently lick your ice cream cone on a hot summer day - he tells you to put your tongue on his cock instead, how you put your hair up in a high ponytail just makes him want to pull on it and kiss the crook of your neck… it all leaves him clouded with dirty thoughts.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who calls you ‘babe’ and refers to you as his ‘girl’ even though he has a million bitches on the side.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who makes you feel like shit about yourself because he’s constantly sending you womens’ profiles on Instagram, saying you should look more like them and ‘get a nicer ass.’
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who becomes more controlling as your sexual relationship continues, basically forcing you to let him check your phone in case you're messaging other dudes and being naughty for men besides him but gets defensive when you want to see his phone.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who refuses to eat you out but expects you to praise his cock with your slutty mouth and wet tongue.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who doesn’t really care about your personal problems or pain, and whenever you tell him you’re hurting on the inside, he offers to let you come over to his house so that he can fuck you: “once my cock is inside you again, you’ll forget all about your sadness.”
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who doesn’t use condoms because he ‘can’t feel anything’ when he wears them, so he just assumes that you’re on birth control when he cums inside you.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who violates your privacy when he’s online gaming with his closest friends, Eren and Jean, as he tells them through the microphone about how tight and wet your pussy is and how much you enjoy being treated like a slut, your mouth full of his cock and pussy dripping with his cum… going as far as sending secretive videos he took of you to them where you’re whimpering and begging for Armin’s cock.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who pressures you to do risky things you don’t want to do, but you just can’t find the courage to say no to him when he stares at you with his intense blue eyes… like when he asks you to sit next to him in the back of the class then without your approval, sneaks his slender fingers into your panties and starts harshly playing with your clit. He devilishly smirks as you try to suppress your cries of disapproval. Or like when he convinces you to let him take videos of you when you’re in a position that exposes your slick cunt to him so well. Or even how he manipulates you into trying something new that you’ve never been comfortable with, like swallowing his thick cum, letting him put you in a full-nelson, maybe letting him choke you while he spits in your mouth.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who finally closes in on you, begging you to help him study for the upcoming test since he wasn’t paying attention in class because ‘you’re just so distracting’ to him, acting so smart and innocent and respectably in front of the teacher when Armin really knows that your slutty outfits and wet pussy says otherwise… so you excitedly go over to his dorm, thankful that finally it will be a normal get-together where you could actually find out more about Armin instead of finding out more about how he likes his cock sucked. Upon entering his dorm, it is apparent that he never planned on studying with you as his textbooks are nowhere to be found, and he is sitting on the couch half-naked with Netflix on the TV.
ᵔᴥᵔ “Oh hey, y/n, didn’t expect to see you here so soon,” he says nonchalantly. You unknowingly stare at his broad shoulders, his strong chest, and of course his V-line that is not hard to miss as he carelessly talks shit about his teachers. “See something you like?” arrogance seething from his teeth as he brushes back his blond hair. You don’t say anything as your face grows red. He takes your hand and leads you to the couch. “Come on, let’s watch something.”
ᵔᴥᵔ The sound of skin slapping drowns out the voices on the TV. You don’t even know how Armin managed to get you into this position again where you’re so submissive under him, giving into him yet again. He flips you over on your back, and he props himself up, looking over your figure that’s so pathetically displayed below him. You can see his angelic hair stick to his forehead as the sweat drips down his soft but sharp cheeks. The look in his eyes has gone dark, and his smile is sinister as if he was a predator about to devour a prey. He wickedly laughs as you grind your needy cunt against his hard cock. This is where he really gets mean.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin loves to degrade you like the whore you are, constantly reminding you just how easy you are to take advantage of, how easy you are to win over with just some dick, how easy it is to make your sloppy cunt squirt and tingle from multiple orgasms, how easy it is to make you whimper and beg for his thick cock to make a complete mess of your pussy.
ᵔᴥᵔ “You really didn’t think I invited you over just to study, did you?” he snickers as he cruelly and slowly thrusts into your aching cunt, making eye contact with you and grinning as your face turns red. He grabs your throat, choking you, and begins to thrust faster which pulls shaky moans from under your breath. He inches close to your ear and whispers, “you even came over here without wearing underwear under that short skirt of yours…” he switches to the other ear, “and when I started touching your dirty cunt during the movie, you were already so wet,” you shiver at his words. He pulls back and gives you a gentle slap with his left hand, his rings stinging your face, and uses his right hand to twist your perky nipples. He begins to laugh, “but I’m not surprised that a filthy slut like you - my filthy slut - would think of such impure thoughts during something as innocent as watching a movie.” Armin leans closer to your face again, still thrusting into you at a quick pace. His warm breath raises goosebumps on your skin. He harshly grabs your mouth and tells you to open, which you submissively comply with, and he spits into your mouth which causes you to whimper. He smacks the side of your thigh. “You like being treated like some depraved slut don’t you?” You don’t reply, but the fluttering in your tight pussy says otherwise. He flips you onto your stomach, your breasts mushing into the couch, and without warning, he forces his girthy cock into your tight pussy. He is thrusting into you at an ungodly pace, making you scream and moan incoherent words. “What’s my little slut saying? Use your words, baby,” he teases. At this point, you can only call out his name. “A-armin…” He begins to torturously thrust into that one spot, and within seconds, you're bucking your hips, intensely squirting onto his couch and leaving a sopping wet dark spot. “Fucking whore, gonna have to buy a new couch because you can’t control your filthy cunt,” he growls into your ear. He quickly flips you over onto your back again, wanting to see your face. Your face is contorted with such pleasure; your eyes are rolled to the back of your head, and your mouth is wide open with drool dripping down your jaw. Armin shudders, his cock getting even harder in your tight pussy. “So hot… such a lewd slut.” He immediately brings out his phone, taking a picture. “Want me to show my friends what a cock-hungry whore you are?” You quickly nod. “So fucking pathetic,” he snarls. “I’m going to destroy your cunt, slut.” He shoves his warm tongue in your mouth, gently grabbing the hair on your foggy head. “I’m gonna break you in so bad,” he mumbles, wiping the tears from your face.
ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who maybe in fact does want to have that ‘relationship shit’ with you ~
__________________________
Requests are open, and feedback is appreciated <3
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calltomuster · 3 years
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Star Wars Fic Recs Part the Fourth
[first fic rec list] [second fic rec list] [third fic rec list]
Been a few weeks since I've done one of these and I've read/reread some great fics recently so let me share them with you now!
And I Fear Nothing by @maiseey (Obi-Wan/Cody, WIP, 11/? chapters, 43.4k words) Picture this: I am sitting in the parking lot of my local grocery store, having just bought a load of perishables. I get the email that And I Fear Nothing has just been updated. What do I do: run home to preserve the food I just paid for, or sit in my car and read the new chapter right away? The answer is obvious, of course! That is exactly the situation I found myself in last week when chapter 11 dropped and I did in fact choose to read it in spite of my groceries, that's how much I love this fic. In this fic, Obi-Wan and Cody are raising Luke and Leia together on Tatooine, and they've got so much trauma, and new + old wounds, and love for each other and the children they're raising that it both warms your heart and tears it apart. But that's not all, this fic expands beyond just the small home in the middle of the Jundland Wastes and explores Ahsoka and Rex and their journey to de-chip as many clones as possible. I love this fic because it doesn't shy away from hard conversations, but it does it in a way that makes you want to cry and give everyone involved a hug. Plus, there are some fantastic minor clone characters that you will 100% want to die for by the time you finish reading. Cannot recommend this fic enough.
Obligate by @communistkenobi (gen, one-shot, 23.9k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin & Ahsoka) Just when you thought the Deception arc didn't have enough pain, this AU sees Anakin fake his death instead of Obi-Wan! My heart is physically ripped out of my chest just thinking about this fic, so imagine what it'd do to you actually reading it. Anything @communistkenobi writes is so well-done and I've gone through his works list on AO3 multiple times, but somehow I missed this when it was first posted and it was like a wonderfully delightful surprise when I ran into it the other day. So, so good. Highly recommend!
Moirai by damonkey (gen, WIP, 4/? chapters, 9.2k words, Obi-Wan & Qui-Gon) All I can really say about this fic without giving anything away is that it's a Phantom Menace AU and it's so intriguing. The author is very deliberate in having a vague summary and only tagging as the story progresses, so I truly have no idea what's ahead of me but it's so -- as I said -- intriguing that I'm happy to strap into the ride. Ahhhh I'm skimming through the fic and there are so many things I want to mention but I don't want to give anything away!
Almost Home by @frunbuns (gen, one-shot, 5.2k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) You know, every time I recc a Modern AU I'm like "I don't usually like Modern AUs but..." and then proceed to gush over the fic. I went and checked and I've recced a Modern AU on almost every fic rec list I've made! Maybe I do like Modern AUs?? Or maybe the fics are just that good -- and this fic is definitely that good. In this fic, the first of a planned series of fics set in a modern Star Wars universe, Obi-Wan is reeling from the loss of his adoptive father Qui-Gon and has to care for a young Anakin. Ooooooof. Definitely hits you right in the feels, this one. Love the non-chronological storytelling too!
Naked and Not Paid by biscuitlevitation (Obi-Wan/212th Attack Battalion, WIP, 6/? chapters, 14.9k words) This fic is essentially ~15k words of the clones thirsting over Obi-Wan and it is the funniest thing I have read all year. I'm not kidding, I just read the last chapter which features space-church-lady!Anakin and I laughed so hard I cried. I'm cracking up just thinking about it. I promise you will have a good time reading this fic. And if the tag "Obi-Wan Kenobi/212th Attack Battalion" puts you off, let me just say there's no sex in this at all, it's just thirst. And it's hilarious.
Full Disclosure by @trixree (Obi-Wan/Cody, WIP, 2/3 chapters, 7.4k words) ROTS AU in which the Force bonds Obi-Wan has formed with a few members of the 212th save them from the chip and Order 66, but it doesn't stop the devastation from happening on a mass scale and they all have to try and deal with Mustafar and Luke and Leia. This fic manages to be both extremely soft and extremely gut-wrenching at the same time, and I wish I could leave more kudos. Full disclosure (get it, little pun there for ya), I will be dying until the final chapter comes out. Time to go listen to Olivia Rodrigo and reread this fic and just live in my feels.
Thirteen Days by @ewanmcgregorismyhomeboy12 (gen, one-shot, 4.1k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) Post-Zygerria arc, Anakin dresses an unconscious Obi-Wan's injuries and struggles. Ahhhh this fic is one of my favorite Zygerria arc fics, and given that that's my favorite arc, that's saying a lot! Obi-Wan doesn't say a word in this fic, but his presence is very much there, if you know what I mean. And the descriptions of injuries here are pretty graphic at times, but it's so good that you'll want to keep reading even if you have to do it through the fingers covering your eyes.
brother, let me be your shelter by @kenobilovebot (gen, one-shot, 1.6k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) This fic packs so much tenderness in a short amount of words. It covers an AU in which Obi-Wan's issues from Zigoola never really resolve, and Anakin finds out when -- well, you'll just have to read for yourself. I love Zigoola because it is such an excellent whumpfest for poor Obi-Wan and this fic is great for that, but also highlights Anakin and Obi-Wan's relationship.
A Padawan At War (Again) series by @itstimeforstarwars (gen, 3 parts, 100k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) In this series, Obi-Wan and Anakin are transported from The Phantom Menace into the Clone Wars and have to deal with all that comes with it: fighting wars, discovering a Padawan you never knew you had, dueling your grandmaster who apparently is a Sith Lord now(?!) and all the rest. This series is a great ride, and I look forward to every update. Note: the first fic in this series is a one-shot that was expanded upon, and it drops you in media res. The second fic is a prequel that shows how they got to that point, and the third fic is the sequel that shows what comes after.
The Desert Storm series by @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning (complete, 24 parts, 1.144 million words) There has never been a better time to start reading this series. If you read Star Wars fics on AO3, then you've definitely seen the Desert Storm series before, but maybe you were daunted by the high word count, or felt like it would be too much effort to go all the way to the beginning of a series but couldn't just jump in halfway. Let me tell you, it's 100% worth it, and now is the perfect time to read this series if you haven't already. This series is complete, but it turns out it's all just Act 1 of the larger story, which will continue in the Rise and Fall series. @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning is taking a break right now before starting the next series, so you have ample time to get caught up, and YOU REALLY SHOULD. Let me tell you, this series had me on the edge of my seat more than any other piece of media I can remember. With the most recent chapters, where everything that has been building for a million words came to a head, I would get so worked up after each chapter that beforehand I would have to queue up calming things to watch afterwards, and it still wouldn't be enough and I'd be too full of feelings to get anything done the rest of the day. Seriously, this series is amazing. And if you HAVE read it before but haven't reread, now is the perfect time for that as well. I've reread this series multiple times and it's so rewarding because the author sprinkled in so many hints as to what will come that you only understand the second (or third) time around. I know I've written a lot for this rec but this is a long series and it deserves it. Go read! Now!
If you like any of these fics, please consider reblogging so they can get more exposure! And if you noticed I missed someone’s Tumblr account, or linked the wrong one, please let me know!
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metize · 3 years
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Valentione’s Day Chocolate
Emet-Selch x WoL (AFAB) smut Tags: Valentione's Day ; No Spoilers ; AFAB Warrior of Light ;They/Them Pronouns for Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV) ; Gender-Neutral Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV) ; Fluff and Smut
A/N:Emet smut! Finally posting my FFXIV fics on tumblr. Cuz I want to do headcanons and requests and stuff...... Anyways! This is just fluff and smut. No warnings just pure bastard ascian thirst quenching material.
You were resting in your room in the Pendants, sitting down at the dining table when Emet-Selch waltzed in. You were over trying to get him to leave at this point, the recurring encounters made you more accustomed to his insufferable personality.
"Hey! Stop it, this isn't for you!" You pulled the box of chocolates away from the Ascian, who already held one in his hand.
"Oh, please, you have dozens more on you little pile there, Hero, selfishness is not a good look  for you." He said unbothered by your reaction. Emet-Selch gestured towards your stack of heart-shaped boxes, they were gifted to you by the people of the Crystarium all of them very eager to show their appreciation for the Warrior of Darkness.
"This one's different. This one….  It's from the Exarch." You mutter, tracing your fingers along the container.
"And? Is the chocolate any sweeter when it's handed to you by our friendly neighborhood hooded freak?"
"He's not-" you don't know why you feel the urge to defend the Crystal Exarch, but you feel very close to him, his devotion and wisdom are admirable and you felt a growing sense of fondness towards the anonymous Crystarium ruler. "I don't know why I'd even bother explaining these things to you." You shake your head, telling yourself not to waste your breath. "Looking at you Ascians I scarcely believe your kind would understand feelings."
Emet-Selch popped the round bonbon into his mouth before saying. "How cruel, Hero. I will have you know I feel as much as you do." He sighs disappointed "Perhaps even more, I'd argue." He muttered under his breath.
"Well then understand that this box is full of feelings, fondness, appreciation…"
"Strange, those don't translate that well into taste." He mused and crossed his legs "I must say I find your day of courtship is severely lacking. Is this all you do to show you care for another?"
You rolled your eyes "Well excuse us mortals for letting you down yet again." You close the violated box, sealing it back by tying the red ribbon over it. "Here you can have this one if you want candy that badly." You push a random package, pink and sparkly, towards Emet-Selch.
“Oh, Warrior, you shouldn’t have!” he feigned bashfulness and you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “I am very flattered, oh look you even wrote me a letter, let me see.” There was indeed a small piece of paper attached to the present, Emet-Selch unfolded the card before reciting “Dear Emet-Selch,” You huff in amusement, curious as to what the Ascian would make up “I pale in comparison to you and your kind, I am so grateful for your selflessness and your assistance during my meaningless quests.” You crossed your arms, not surprised by his antics, but then you weren’t expecting him to continue. “We are sworn enemies and yet I cannot quell the flames burning inside of me whenever I see you. I want nothing more than be ravished by you, every night I touch myself to the thought of y-”
“G-gods! That’s it your Valentione’s candy rights have been revoked.” You grab the box he held in his hands, taking it away from him, your face burning up at his shameless smirk. “Do you have nothing else to do besides teasing me for your own amusement? Just walk into your creepy portal and get a hobby already.” You get up from the table, pretending to be cleaning things up.
“Ah, you’d be surprised at how enjoyable it is to watch you squirm.” But he got up right behind you. “So much passion, Hero. Who would’ve thought you garnered such feelings for me.”
“Pff, you wish. And there is no passion or feelings in that letter, who’s to say I didn’t just want you to fuck me and that’s it.” You turned around to face him. He was way closer than you expected him to be and you stumble backward a bit, yet he steps right back into your personal space.
“If I were to fuck you, Hero, it'd most certainly be with passion, I can assure you." He smiled and reached to caress your hair.
“You’re the worst.” You averted your gaze, embarrassed by the closeness and his gentle touch, yet you didn’t move away. Of course you didn’t, you were attracted to that bastard for some reason and you cursed yourself endlessly for it. “Don’t say shit you don’t mean just to get a reaction out of me.”
He grabbed your face by your chin, his touch now rough, forcing you to look at him. “I’ve told you before, Hero. I do not lie.” His tone is now low and he delights himself seeing you get goosebumps on your skin as he caresses your arm with his free hand. “Though I cannot deny how much I enjoy your reactions.”
It annoyed you how readable you were to him, every part of your body seemed to betray you and clearly show him exactly how much you were affected by his presence. You couldn’t even process the fact he started closing the gap between you until you felt his lips press against yours. You let out a tiny gasp in surprise, parting your lips slightly, he pressed himself closer deepening the kiss and pushing his tongue into your mouth. You started kissing him back and you could feel him smile against your lips, his mouth growing hungrier as he guided you back against the table you were just talking on.
You sat on the table, glad you managed to put away the gifts giving you some space to rest on. Emet nudged himself in between your legs, you spread them wider unconsciously giving him more space, welcoming him closer. “So pliant to my touch, dear hero.” He murmurs, his hands gripping your waist as he starts kissing your neck. “Tell me how much you want it.”
“Please… Touch me…” You plead softly before you can get too self-conscious about sounding needy. You’re instantly rewarded with the feeling of his gloved hand slipping under your top, reaching to play with one of your breasts. His other hand slowly unbuttoning said blouse, while he peppered your revealed skin with kisses. Once your torso was fully exposed you fought the urge to cover yourself as Emet-Selch’s persistent gaze never left your upper body.
“You’ve tempted me for far too long, Warrior of Light…” he spoke more to himself than to you, shaking his head before diving to kiss one of your nipples while his hand tugged at the other. You bit your lips to try and stifle your groans, but Emet tsked at you. “Don’t hide your voice from me, I wish to hear it.” He smiled devilishly. “The more pathetic you sound the happier I get.” To punctuate his phrase he blew on your slickened pink bud, making your breath hitch.
“Y-you really are the worse.” You shook your head, cheeks flushed at the way he played with your body as a practiced musician did with their instrument.
“Maybe so…” He mused, gripping your bottoms to undress you further. “But will I find you dripping for the awful being before you? How come my virtuous hero finds themselves in this predicament? Submissive, pliant, needy, beneath their villain’s touch…” He smirked and kissed his way down your body as your garments were pulled down, leaving you completely bare while the Ascian was fully clothed. The contrast made you shiver with anticipation, his words were going straight to your core, the sheer wrongness of this whole setting was infuriatingly arousing. Emet was on his knees between your legs, you could feel his hot breath on your skin. He looked at you straight in the eyes as he pulled his glove off with his teeth, right before using his now bare fingers to spread your lips open. “Maybe you’re not such a good warrior to your Goddess after all, are you? From here all I see is a depraved, needy little thing.”
“Emet, p-please…” His touches were fleeting and his mouth left wet kisses on her inner thigh.
“Hm?” He looked up, feigning innocence.
“Please I need you…”
“You are so greedy with your words, pray share them with me. What do you need of me?” His fingers gently rubbed your entrance, you moan still trying to sort your words out while he teased you. He sighed. “What is it, do you want my fingers deep inside your cunt? Want me to spread you open with my fingers and make you come on them?” You nodded profusely at his suggestions and he plunged a digit into your entrance with no warning pulling a gasp from your lips before he kept talking. “You want my mouth on you? Want me to use my tongue to bring you to completion while you whine and try to grind against my mouth?”
“Yes! Gods yes.” With that his lips were on you.
He kissed your pussy still stretching it with his finger, he added a second digit as he started licking and teasing your clit. You couldn’t help but gasp and moan under his ministrations, his hands reached everywhere inside of you and his mouth was absolutely sinful. You softly begged him not to stop, as his fingers curled inside you and his warm tongue circled your sensitive nub. You cried out coming around him, you didn’t even notice you had you hand gripping his hair until you were coming down from the high. You were aching still, you were pretty sure you’d go insane if you didn’t get filled with the Ascian’s cock in the next few minutes.
“M-more…”
“Insatiable little thing, aren’t you?” his usual condescending tone was betrayed by his visible erection. “Want your pretty little cunt filled with my cum? Broken little thing, you are…” Your vision was hazy, you were lost in both the afterglow and the arousal that was building up again inside you. You weren’t watching his movements, all you could focus on was his amber eyes blown out with lust and the filthy words he spoke into your ear, soon enough you felt his tip tease your entrance, rubbing it up and down against your slit.
“Don- Don’t do this… ah… to me.” you were tired of his teasing, it was bordering on cruelty at this point. “Need you inside me…”
That seemed to persuade him enough because he started pressing into your warm entrance at once. His lips went back to kissing yours as he bottomed out inside, the kiss was desperate and passionate, the way his mouth consumed you arousing you further as you felt his dick stretching your walls.
“All the way in…” he announced and kissed your forehead gently, giving you a moment to adjust. You nodded violently giving him permission to move already and he smiled at your eagerness. His thrusts started deep and steady, your moans filling the room each time he hit just the right spot inside of you. “Is this what you need, Hero? You need to be filled, hm? Only I can make you feel complete, my dear warrior.” He pulled your hair and looked into your eyes, as you struggled to keep your eyes open. “I see you. I know what you need and only I can give it to you.”
You cried out for him as his pace quickened, you could feel your second orgasm approaching quickly but you wanted to come to his voice speaking more filthy things to you. He noticed it too, smirking at you before continuing to speak. “Come around my cock, my needy broken little hero. Do it and I’ll give you my cum, I’ll fill you up like you need to be filled. I will ruin you for anyone else.” You moaned and scratched his clothed back as he fucked you through your climax. He didn’t stop pounding you. “That’s it, that’s my good little hero… Fuck…” He groaned feeling you clenching around him, his pace faltering until he came inside you.
The both of you breathe heavily before Emet kissed your forehead. You close your eyes still catching your breath as you hear the familiar ‘snap’ of the Ascians fingers, you open your eyes to find you both in bed.
“Didn’t take you for a cuddler.” you teased him as you felt his arms holding you from behind. “You’ll find I am full of surprises.” You can hear the smirk on his voice, you huffed before nudging closer to him and closing your eyes, sinking into sleep.
You wake up alone, a red box of chocolates placed on your nightstand addressed to “my good little hero”.
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pluto-art · 3 years
Text
Softly - PatB Fan Fiction
Type: Hurt/Comfort Rating: PG Summary: Baby Brain has known little but pain and misery in an unloving world, but when he gets paired up with a new lab student things change in a way he didn’t expect.
This started out as a mini story in a Discord server and got... a little out of hand. What you see here is how much I typed out in the server.
He hadn't been there long. Two... maybe three weeks? The cold metal had finally become familiar beneath his feet, and the strange blocks, though generally tasteless, kept him alive. There wasn't much that made his new living quarters interesting; there was only so much one could do in a pile of aspen shavings day after day. Occasionally, they would hook up to his cage some sort of liquid that wasn't his usual watery fair. He could never decipher or make heads or tails of the words on the sides of the bottles, saying things like D-D-T or S-N-I-P-P-L-E. The only distinguishing feature to him was that sometimes they tasted terrible, sometimes quite flavorful, and sometimes they tasted like nothing at all. Almost all of them turned his stomach. Driven to thirst, however, he'd play their cruel game. Choice was not something that existed in this crisp, sterile world; at least, not from a personal standpoint. When it did exist it meant the difference between a shock and a treat; a yellow light or a red light; a warm room or a cold one. Choice was manufactured.
He still cried almost every night. He tried to quiet the tears, but they didn't always listen. The others heard him. One or two laughed cynically. Most said nothing; they'd shed their own fair share and would again sooner than later. A single kind soul, a mother rat some doors down from him, occasionally whispered to him a lullaby or two when everyone else but them were asleep. They were songs she sang to her own children to quiet their tears, and she had no less compassion for this unfortunate soul, who was even worse off than her own brood -- he didn't even have any parents to nuzzle up to. Had she her way, she would have mutilated every last living human being in the facility. It was bad enough that they were tested on mercilessly as adults. To do so to children was simply insidious. Alas, she was simply a rat, and so could only dream of days when she wasn't.
Not that BR-41N (that's what they called him; no one had real names here) hadn't tried to be friendly with his captures. Aside from a particularly nasty poke from some long, thin, prickly object inserted into his thigh the first day (it had stung; oh, it had stung...) the proceeding couple of days had consisted of simple maze runs and treadmill exercises. Nothing too elaborate. As a child, he'd been used to running around a lot in the field, and sifting through the labyrinths reminded him of the long grass he'd play hide-and-seek in back home, except at the end of them was a tasty prize: a piece of cheese. He liked cheese. In the wild, it was hard to come by, but here they gave it to him generously, provided he finished the courses, which he always did. The fourth day followed in much the same way, but the fifth day brought something different: a sudden shock and a broken tail. That had changed his view of things. Perhaps the harsh awakening wouldn't have been so terrible had it not been followed by other unspeakable things -- poisoned food; friends made that, the next day, would never be seen again; more shocks given as punishment for choosing an incorrect panel; injections that made him see things he'd never seen, monsters and strange colors and other scary things that kept him awake at night; loud noises that came out of nowhere; and often, quite often, the terrifying echo of squeaks, barks, and meows that made up the daily music of Acme Laboratories. He hated it. He hated all of it. More than anything, he wanted to go home. He missed the warmth; the love; the soft whisper of the wind that traveled through his ivory fur. He wanted all of it back. But life? She was a harsh mistress. And no amount of crying, screaming, or pleading, seemed to ever make her turn an ear.
As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks... months, more than just a tail was broken. Trust was broken. Hope was broken. Spirit... was broken. If there was any love, if there was any future, it wasn't here. Kindness had proved unfruitful, and patience had run its course. He didn't find reason to be willing, nor show charity, towards those who made his life a living hell. What reason was there? What profit was in it? Time had told him, quite bluntly, there wasn't. It had taken him a full month to admit defeat, but admit it he did, and cynical he became, 'til every hand that reached in to grab him was ripe to be bitten, every shot that punctured his stomach was the unwelcome norm, and every newcomer that tried to strike up a friendship was easily ignored. The latter-most was simply wasting their time. He could read the colors on the cages now. He knew that a red mark meant "death". He only wondered why he, as of yet, had never been given one himself. It was as if life itself was laughing at him -- keeping him as witness to the horrors that went on inside the dragon's cave, yet never giving him the satisfaction of death.
And so the third month dawned, chilly and barren, or so the scientists said. Autumn had come. Not that any of the residents within the thick, cemented walls could see it. But the laboratory personnel spoke of it -- gold and crimson leaves, hot chocolate, dried wheat fields. He could almost smell the corn; could almost feel the breeze.... Days passed. For the first time, they gave him a cage mate. E8-WN, they called him. He was kind, but BR-41N had little love left to give. Besides, he had the red tag. It seemed they had only placed him here temporarily due to a lack of space. The next day he was taken to the back. The tiniest shred of pity nipped at BR-41N as he watched the little peach-furred mouse be carried into the surgical room, a curious look on his face. Another emotion was also present within him: jealousy. On the 17th day of September, a new thing happened -- a thing that, for the first time in a while, made the little mouse turn his head.
The school year had started, and, as such, fresh meat was welcomed into the laboratory in the form of fourteen college students looking to continue pursuits in medical science. They were all very quiet during the tour, one or two of them occasionally lifting a hand to ask a question about course materials or contact information. They were each, it seemed, to be given a subject: an animal from the laboratory to study, train, and conduct experiments on. Rats, mice, and hamsters had already been picked out for them, and each was given a black-coated subject or a brown-furred captive to take charge of. Each student's rodent was to be kept in the lab at all times, and specific instructions were given them as to the proper handling of the creatures. At least two experiments were to be conducted on them daily, three if possible. They could spend as much time with their charge as they wished, so long as they got their homework done. Fourteen students. Fourteen rodents. Four months to finish their work. Simple.
As it stood, however, there had been a miscalculation. Fourteen students. Fourteen rodents.... No. Not fourteen. Only thirteen. There'd been an error. They'd forgotten to set aside an extra subject. The unfortunate student without a charge was a college girl named Rachel. All other rodents were going through tests conducted by various personnel in the lab, set aside specifically for said conductions that couldn't currently be tampered with. All except one....
"So, um, Rachel," their teacher said, checking his student list. "You may have to share with... Peterson.... You know what? We might... actually have an extra for you. Hold on. Let me ask...."
And he departed into another room, calling for a "Jackson".
"Jackson! Can she use BR-41N? I don't think he's going through any rigorous testing.... Yeah? Okay. Yeah, that would work out perfectly. Thanks."
He turned back to his brood, many of whom looked quite eager to jump in to these intriguing studies, others looking downright bored.
"Okay. We have one for you. His code name is BR-41N. He's not going through any major testing, and he's generally given the usual works -- labyrinths, shock treatment, all that. But, um... he bites. Really bad. So... you'll have to watch it, all right?"
"Okay," Rachel nodded, looking a little nervous.
"All right. Umm.... Good. Yes. So, let's head back to the main campus, and... we'll start your work tomorrow."
And they left.
BR-41N had only heard part of all this, and had understood none of it. He shivered in his cage, taking a moment to drink some water out of the bottle that hung there. While the arrival of such a large group intrigued him, especially since it consisted of a much younger set than normal, it also made him nervous. Was it a sign of good things to come... or bad? Or just more of the usual fair? One could only wonder. For now, he was simply grateful that the cheese they'd given him today was, for once, not laced with drugs.
She came by on a Tuesday.
It was an hour after a cosmetics test that he heard a knock on the table. His skin still burned. He was cowering in a far corner, and looked back over his shoulder hesitantly.
Rachel stood there, smiling at him.
"Hello, little one." He stared at her, nonplussed. "I guess you're my charge. You gonna say hello?"
And she opened up the door of his cage.
He shuffled back further. He knew all too well by this point that the opening of a door meant one of two things: food or torture. Considering the fact that she didn't smell of food, he had to assume it was the latter.
"It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you. Well, hopefully not...."
Although he didn't understand a word of what she said, her tone was calm; soothing. No one in the lab ever talked to him like this. He couldn't help but stare curiously.
She held her hand up to the entrance and made a soft, squeak-like sound with her mouth. He frowned at her. As if that was going to convince him. He turned away.
"No? I don't blame you," she replied, taking a look at his clipboard. "BR-41N. What kind of a freak name is that? Mind if I call you Brain? Or Brian?"
No response.
"We'll go with Brian. Brain sounds kinda weird."
Brian it was.
She kept the door open, and he braced himself. Any moment now, gloved hands would be protruding into his enclosure to wrap themselves firmly about him, not tight enough to choke him, but secure enough that he couldn't escape. But the hand didn't come. If anything, she pulled up a chair, sat down, and rested her arms upon the table on which his cage sat. She was... giving him a choice? He stared at her, unsure how to react.
"Come on, sweet heart," she cooed, rubbing her fingers together encouragingly.
But he wouldn't budge. If this was some new trick, it wasn't going to work. He wished she'd just grab him and get it over with. Sooner or later, she'd have to. It was only a matter of time. And so he waited....
She sat there for a full twenty minutes, trying her best to get him to come over, but he refused to budge, and so she gave up. As expected, she still ran him through a maze, but instead of reaching in to grab him, she found a clear tube and scooped him up in it, covering both ends before depositing him into the run as such. It was... odd, but less invasive than what he was used to. He rather wished the others would do it that way.
Via the same method she returned him to his cage at the end of the test. As usual, he took to the corner, assuming his usual cowardly pose, but he turned to look at her as she spoke.
"Sorry about that. Nice job, though. See you tomorrow."
And so went the next day... and the next, always with the same introduction: She'd open his door, pull up a chair, and offer her hand to him. After twenty minutes of nothing, she'd scoop him up in the tube, deposit him in the maze or whatever other test he was to perform that day, and return him in the same manner. This went on for four whole weeks, always with a kind word, never coupled with a harsh prod or poking of his skin. He came to somewhat look forward to her almost daily visits, not because he trusted her (the one time she had tried touching him [with gloves on, of course], he'd given her a fair warning in the form of a bite), but because it was the only two hours during the day in which he knew he wouldn't be fed poison, given a shot, or made to inhale cigarette smoke. The other students joked with her. By far, she had the unfriendliest mouse out of all of them, and they found her kind advances a waste of time.
"Just pick him up!" a tall boy said.
Most of them had no problem with handling their subjects by the tail; at least, the boys generally didn't. The girls were kinder, but even they didn't take the time to get to know their animals intimately. They also were given the harder tests to conduct on their critters and so tried not to get attached.
Whereas most of the rats, mice, and hamsters given to the students would eventually be killed in some way or other at the end of the semester, via through vivisection, gassing, cancer, or some other method, BR-41N, or... Brian, as Rachel now called him, was not scheduled to be offed anytime soon and so could not undergo such rigorous experiments. As such, she got both the easy job of conducting very simple tests on him, and also the hard job of trying to work with the most hostile mouse in the entire facility.
"He's never gonna warm up to you," one of the other students said.
Rachel took it as a challenge.
"Watch me," she said.
But Brian was proving to be a much tougher can than expected. By the sixth week, he still hadn't even bothered to venture near the cage entrance when she sat near it, even with tasty treats in hand. He simply didn't trust anyone. Not anymore....
October came and went, to be replaced with a frosty November. Whenever Brian saw Rachel now she had a cup of tea in hand, the better to ward off the coming winter chill. Still she tried; still he refused to relent. Until the 9th....
It was late. She hadn't been able to get to the lab until 8:00 PM due to unfortunate series of events that involved a fender bender, two appointments, and a last minute essay. When she got to the lab she was tired... and not at all in the mood to deal with Brian's B.S., and he knew it.
"'Sup?" she asked him wearily, setting down her things in a huff. Only a handful of other people were still in the facility at this hour, none of them students. Fine by her. She preferred the quiet anyway. "We're gonna do something a little different today, bud."
Indeed.... He perked his ears up at her exhausted tone and the fact that, for once, she didn't open the cage door. But she did still slide the chair up to his table.
On the opposite side of the room was a television on a rolling stand. Normally, this was used for surgeries and other experiments. Once in a blue moon, however, someone would use it for recreational purposes -- to watch the local news when there was time to kill. Most fortunately for Rachel, it also came with a VHS player. Into it she popped a tape, before sitting down in the chair and grabbing her hot cup of peppermint tea. Despite himself, Brian took a whiff of the tea, whose scent had wafted into his cage and tickled his nose. It smelled good.
The film began to play. Brian didn't know the name of it, but whatever it was it was made up of very pretty pictures and featured a lot of dogs... and snow (at least at the beginning). It was rather soothing. Still, he didn't move from his spot, save to grab a lab block at one point to munch on, more to pass the time than anything. His stomach was still a little unsettled from earlier. Privately, he was a bit ticked off at the girl. Had she been a bit earlier he might have avoided the shock treatments. Not that they would have withheld them regardless.
It wasn't until the second song that his attention was at last caught.
"La la lu, La la lu, Oh my little star sweeper, I'll sweep the star dust for you...."
Sweetly did the animated woman sing her little song, and Brian, captivated, perked his ears. He looked up at the television. She was still singing. He stepped forward, bit by bit, until he was right up to the closed door, two little paws coming up to grasp at the bars of his cage as he stared, entranced, at the screen.
"La la lu, La la lu, And may love be your keeper, La la lu, La la lu, La la luuuuu."
And so it ended, all within the span of a minute, if that, but something had stirred with him -- a remembrance of home, and warmth, and what it was like to be loved.
He was still clutching at the bars when he noticed that Rachel was smiling at him, and he promptly sped back to his corner, embarrassed.
"Atta boy," she whispered, still grinning softly at him.
He refused to look at her. He wasn't touched by it or anything. He wasn't....
"It's okay. Don't be embarrassed," said the girl. "I like that song, too."
Brian stayed in his corner the rest of the movie, but the song never left his mind. 
---
The next day proceeded as normal. Once again, Rachel sat by his cage. Once again, she had brought a treat, albeit one he'd never seen before, nor smelled, for that matter. It was small... and white... and fluffy, and it smelled sugary and sweet. He wanted it. Oh, he wanted it so very badly. But nothing that ever came from the fingers of a scientist, even a soft-spoken one, was innocent. And so he refused, his back turned to her.
"Stubborn butt," said Rachel, and by her tone alone Brian could tell that it was a snide comment. He ignored her.
"Here."
As had occurred many times before, she left the treat in his cage near the entrance, closed the door, and sat to watch him. His eyes shifted towards the treat. It sat there, staring at him, mocking him. Eat me, it said. No, he thought. Oh, but it smelled so good....
Rachel sighed. So did Brian. She rested her head in her arms, exasperated. Maybe it really wasn't worth it....
Brian licked his lips. Perhaps....
He took a step forward. Rachel remained where she was, head in her arms, not looking at him. He moved another step. She was still as a stone. Patter patter patter patter patter... GRAB. He swooped back to his corner as fast as possible, marshmallow in his mouth. Rachel looked up... and chuckled. Brian dug into the treat, enjoying every second of it as teeth sunk into the savory delight. He'd never tasted anything this good before. It was better than mother's milk; much better than lab pellets; better than cheese....
"Silly little thing," Rachel giggled, smiling as he filled his cheeks with pleasantness. "Wait 'til you see what I bring you tomorrow."
Tomorrow, he was to find out, brought a piece of a doughnut, and the day after that a waffle. He'd never been this darn spoiled before. On the fourth occasion, he was, for once, already at the door, waiting to see what she'd bring. Lady and the Tramp and sugar, it turned out, were the keys to his heart, although he still wouldn't let her touch him. If her hand so much as brushed his fur he was back to his corner in a rush, although, this time, he didn't try to bite her first.
Rachel laughed when she saw the two little paws clutching at the gated entrance.
"You like 'em that much, huh? Here ya' go."
He stepped back to allow her access to the gate, and watched carefully as she placed something savory and smelling of salt inside. He sniffed, investigating as she closed the door. He took a tentative bite. Mmmmm. Yes, this was acceptable. Grabbing it, he rushed back to his usual corner and chowed down.
"Good. A fellow bacon appreciator," Rachel nodded, satisfied.
He ate the entire piece, licking his lips and proceeding to clean himself afterwards. That had been a bit messy. Good, but messy. If there was something he still valued, it was cleanliness. He could at least retain some form of dignity. The state of his fur was one of the few things he still had control over. Unlike some of the other unfortunate chaps, he'd never had to endure surgery or a shaved stomach.
Two little pink ears perked up as his cage door was opened yet again. More treats? No. Just Rachel, hand offered to him once more. Brian sighed. She just wouldn't give up, would she?
A second glance made him aware that she did, in fact, have something in her hand -- another marshmallow. Hmph. Sneaky. And yet, he'd be lying if he said he didn't want it....
"It's okay, little one," Rachel cooed, hand still outstretched, that plump marshmallow beckoning ever so tantalizingly. "I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise."
Brian sighed. He looked down at the floor, then over at her hand.
Rachel's eyes widened a touch, but she otherwise didn't reveal her surprise as Brian moved forward, inch by inch, step by step, towards her hand....
He stopped at the entrance, debating. Dare he...? It was a risk. He'd never willing done this, not since he'd been captured. It was a stupid decision. Stupid. And yet....
Her hand shifted a touch, and Brian shifted nervously with it. Rachel waited with bated breath.
He stepped forward....
In a flash, he'd grabbed the 'mallow from her hand and retreated to the back of his cage, not daring to even think about what he'd just done. It was foolish. It was dangerous. And yet, she hadn't tried to grab him, or even pet him. She'd just... given him a choice. And he'd taken it. Somehow, for some reason, he'd taken it.
Rachel smiled.
"Atta boy."
---
Perhaps it was the mere fact, the tantalizing realization, that he had a choice in the first place, that drew him back, but over the course of the next few weeks, things changed.
It had started slow at first. A light brush of the whiskers here; a sniff of the hand there. But, eventually, Brian, of his own accord, stepped into her hand. And she didn't close her fingers about him harshly, or strangle him, or pick him up by the tail. She simply... let him be. It was kind. It was unobtrusive. It was respectful. And he appreciated it.
No longer did the other students make fun, or joke that she'd never gain his trust. If anything, they questioned her.
"How the heck did you do it?" they'd ask, curious.
Even more confused were the scientists themselves. Not that anyone had tried very hard to gain the little mouse's trust. He was, in their opinion, not worth the time.
But he was to Rachel.
December came, and with it a complete turn-around in Brian's behavior, albeit towards one particular individual.
He eagerly rushed into her hand now. No need for the transportation tube. She could carry him on her shoulder to the maze area and pick him up with her bare hands as she placed him in the labyrinth, although she still made sure to let him take the first step and would, more often than not, simply offer a hand instead of plucking him from her shoulder. He still appreciated this.
Every weekday was now a day to look forward to. Sure, he was still tormented by the main personnel, but for two or three hours, two or three sweet hours, he didn't have to worry about anything. On the days he suffered from a stomach-ache, she'd hold him close to her chest and do her best to rub the pain away, offering him tea to ease his suffering, and if he fell asleep on her shoulder and woke up, shaking, from a bad dream, she'd rock him back and forth, singing "La La Lu" to him until the nightmares went away. On those rare nights, when she could only work late and no one was around, she'd bottle feed him. He'd been hesitant (and a little embarrassed) at first, but any reminder of home was difficult to ignore, and so he ended up embracing each form of love and affection with open paws, clutching tightly to her chest some days, as if this hug would be his last. For all he knew, it could be. He'd gotten used to her visits, but what if she left and never came back? He didn't want that love to leave....
December 14th.
The end of the semester was approaching. Rachel had told him, time and again, that she was leaving soon; that she would miss him; that she'd try to come back for the next semester. Brian understood none of this. He was a mouse, after all. Human language was foreign to him. The most he could understand was the occasional word -- his name, Brian, and various names of foods and tests -- and basic inflections that he knew signified concern, happiness, or contentment. But he didn't understand "leave", or "semester", or "miss". He could tell something was wrong, that she was sad, but as to why, he did not know.
A week from the last day of the semester, she brought a surprise: a movie. It had something to do with a rat, and food. He liked it for those things. He wished he could understand the words. It seemed interesting. He sat on Rachel's shoulder the entire time, at least until the end of the film, during which Rachel offered her hand to him. He accepted. She brought him up to her chest, nuzzling him close.
"I'm going away for a while, but... I'll try to be back next semester."
She petted him gently. He stared up at her, curious and concerned. Why was she so sad?
"I'm going to miss you...," she whispered. And, for the first time, she kissed him on his fuzzy white head. "I love you...."
He didn't understand the words, but he understood what they meant; how they felt.
Slowly, gently, he nuzzled close to her... and licked her fingers. It was the first time he'd shown genuine affection outside of nuzzling since he'd been captured. I love you, too....
He didn't understand it, but... there was something in the air that told him something big was coming. Something new. Something was going to be different....
December 18th came just like any other day. The semester was coming to a close. Many students had already finished their courses and gone home for the holidays. The occasional class still lingered on, including the medical science class. Most all had completed training and experimentation on their subjects for the season and were simply spending the next few days filing reports and filling out last minute essays. Some of the rodents wouldn't live to see the new year. Others had already been subjected to vivisection by their handlers and were far from the lab by this point. Subject BR-41N was one of the few who'd been given the same sheet on their clipboard day after day, week after week: a run of the mill of the usual, simple, non-invasive tests, along with an injection or two. But today was different.
As Rachel stepped up to Brian's cage, sipping at a hot cup of tea and smiling as her charge ran up to the bars to greet her, she frowned as she pulled up the clip board. His tag was yellow. Not the usual blue, but... yellow. She set down her cup, ignoring Brian's squeaky pleas to be let out as she looked over the sheet carefully.
Subject Reserved for Project B.R.A.I.N. // Invasive Study -- Cognitive Psychology, Neuroscience Psychology // 4:00 PM - Dec. 20
There was a pause, in which the dip in Rachel's brow furrowed ever deeper, her eyes roaming about the page scrutinizingly, before she slipped the paper out of its holder and headed back out the way she'd came, Brian looking curiously after her.
She marched all the way to a back office, in which sat one of the laboratory heads: Jackson. He looked up over his square-rimmed glasses as she knocked upon the exposed inner door frame.
"Yes?" he asked, sounding bored.
"Hey. Um.... I think you gave my subject the wrong paper."
"BR-41N?"
"Yeah. He got a yellow."
She stretched out her arm, offering the paper as proof, but he didn't take it. Instead, he looked up at her, fingers meeting at their tips, and said:
"No, I gave you the right paper. That's for BR-41N. His procedure is in two days."
His tone was flat and laced with a thin layer of poison, as if her daring to question him was a challenge.
"But... I thought he was just doing mainly labyrinth tests."
"Ms. Field, I thought you were told...?"
"Told what...?"
"He's been scheduled for this procedure for months. We wanted him fresh and so have eschewed more invasive tests until now. Frankly, you've been spending a little too much time with that mouse. He's gotten too friendly. We're not in the business of developing attachment here."
He said all this with a straight face, completely emotionless. Rachel swallowed thickly.
"Sir, I've... been going over this test. It's... very dangerous."
"Yes."
"It could kill him...."
"Yes?"
Rachel simply stared at him, uncertain of what to say next. He wasn't working with her here....
"Look.... What did you expect? You're studying medical science, correct?"
She nodded.
"Okay, well," he continued, a small chuckle of sarcasm escaping his lips as he said it. "Y-You have to realize that... this is a laboratory. We can't keep every subject. And these tests come with a lot of risks."
"Could you possibly do the test on another subject...?" Rachel asked, choosing her words carefully. "Brian is still kind of young, and..."
"Brian?"
Shoot.
"Sorry, I mean... BR-41N."
"You can't start... naming them, Miss Field. That's when you start getting attached. Understand?"
"I know...," Rachel mumbled, cheeks reddening as she looked down at her shoes.
"And the whole point of using him at this age is because his mind is younger. He's fresh."
"But he's just a baby..."
"Yes? And? A lot of the other students are working with infants."
"This one is...," Rachel began, than stopped. Already she'd said too much.
"Miss Field, if you don't prepare him for the procedure, someone else will. Now, you can either do your assignment or lose your credits. It's your choice."
Rachel sighed. Still holding the paper, she let her arm fall dramatically to her side.
"Fine...."
And she turned to walk off. But...
"Miss Field?"
She looked at him.
"Don't do anything stupid."
"Yes, Sir," Rachel replied, after a hefty pause, and headed back to her charge.
---
Brian didn't understand why Rachel was so quiet that day, nor why she cuddled him so much. She whispered to him something about "breaking out" and "night", but he didn't understand what those things meant, although he heard the urgency in her voice. As a result, he was a little more uptight the rest of the afternoon.
Before leaving, Rachel kissed the top of his head again, before setting him back down in the cage and hooking the door. Her good-byes were all but gibberish to him, although he recognized the word "tomorrow". So he'd be seeing her tomorrow. That was good. At least he had a time frame. He was naive to the rest....
---
December 19th 9:15 PM
BR-41N cleaned his whiskers, pondering.
She hadn't shown up today. Strange. "Tomorrow". She's said "tomorrow". Today was tomorrow. Why hadn't she come?
To his left, in a far corner of the room, someone sneezed in their cage. Brian frowned sadly. It was that hamster again. Whatever they'd given him had put him into a sneezing fit for an hour. Now and then he relapsed.
He yawned, stretched, and made for the food dispenser, when he suddenly heard a sharp click of a door being opened and abruptly snapped shut. He turned in the direction of the door. A light flicked on. Brian smiled.
Rachel's feet slid across the floor in haste. Instead of her usual student lab coat, she was decked out in her normal clothes, complete with backpack. Her hoodie was up, obscuring her hair, save for a few strands that stuck out here and there, as well as part of her face. She moved with purpose, albeit a little covertly, looking over her shoulder every now and then, as if expecting someone to grab her at any minute.
Set in a wall above the entrance to the room, a camera followed her. Rachel's eyes shifted at the sound as she moved towards Brian's cage. She knew she only had five, maybe ten, minutes at best.
Opening the cage door, she held her hand out for Brian to step onto. He hesitated. Something didn't smell right....
"Come on. We're busting you out of here, dude," Rachel whispered.
Brian cocked his head at her questioningly.
"Listen, they're going to put your through that splicer if we don't get you out of here, so come on."
There was an urgency in her voice that, despite his misgivings, compelled him to move forward. He trusted her too much by this point.
"Atta boy," she praised him, tucking him in her shirt pocket.
He peeked out, paws clutching at the edges of the pocket interestedly.
"Let's go," Rachel whispered, turning back to the door and stopping as she realized that someone was already standing there....
Framed in the metal doorway was a woman, thirty-five... maybe forty-something in age. Her arms were crossed, and the expression on her face seemed as taught and firm as the scrunchie tightening her poofy auburn hair. Her long lab coat was still settling; she must have only just gotten there. Rachel recognized this woman. Lana, her name was -- she was one of the head managers at the facility. Jackson had obviously tipped her off.
"Fancied a night stroll?" she asked, tone dripping with sarcasm.
Rachel remained frozen in place, a hand subconsciously cupping her shirt pocket. The gesture didn't go unnoticed.
"You know you're risking a lot for this. That's all your credits down the drain."
"He's worth it," Rachel answered, resolute.
"He's not. You take him and they'll just get another subject."
"At least I'll have saved this one."
"We'd still rather you not take an asset that's been reserved for months for this procedure," Lana nipped, taking a step forward.
Rachel took a step back. Her eyes shifted to a door to her left. It led to several other testing rooms and then back out into the main hallway. Some of the doors had security locks. It was the long way around, but if she was fast enough....
"Rachel...," Lana spoke, tone threatening as she advanced. "Put him down."
With each step Lana took towards her, Rachel moved two back. She could feel herself starting to perspire. Gosh, this was a stupid idea....
"Rachel...."
With a hand cupped over her shirt pocket, Rachel darted in the direction of the door, opening it up in a flash and slamming it shut behind her. Already she was racing for the opposite end of the room, where another door stood.
Brian jumped as an alarm went off, followed by red lights that flashed all throughout the facility. Rachel was already in the next room, her heart racing. She could hear the panicked footsteps behind her, mimicking her own, and hoped upon hope that she was faster than her pursuer.
Rachel picked up her pace as she entered the next room. This one, she knew, required an employee badge to open. All of the students had been given security badges, of course, primarily for general access to the entrance and main rooms. They worked on some doors in the facility. Some, but not all. She'd never been in these rooms. Privately, she prayed that they'd open for her.
Slamming her badge up against a wall panel, she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet nervously.
"Come on. Come oooon! Take it!!"
It did. The door unlocked, and she swung it open in haste to make for the next locked door, which also granted her entrance.
She was faster than Lana, but it didn't mean the woman wasn't hot on her heels. Brian shut his eyes tightly, huddling against Rachel's chest on the inside of her pocket as she darted about, her hand still cupping him securely. He knew, somehow, that this was about him. His ears rotated this way and that at the duo of clicking feet racing down the linoleum flooring. Who would win? Who was he most valuable to?
It wasn't until the fourth room that Rachel started to panic. Yet again, she'd reached a door asking for proof of access, except this time... her badge was not accepted. She shook the door handle feebly, knowing it wouldn't open; knowing this was the end of the line. Despite himself, Brian peeked out of the shirt pocket, just in time to see Lana as Rachel swiftly turned around to face the woman, who stood at the opposite end of the room, hair askew and chest heaving as she glared at Rachel and her tiny charge.
"You're persistent, I'll give you that," Lana huffed.
"Why do you need him?! Just let me take him and get another subject!" Rachel bit.
"We let you get away with it and you'll set a precedent! You know that!" Lana snapped right back. "And we don't want to waste any more time. We've spent too much money on this project."
"He's just a baby!"
"All of them are meant to be expendable! Hand him over!"
"No!"
Brian's ears flicked. Rachel held her breath. Was it just them, or did they hear... more footsteps?
"You won't have a choice," Lana said flatly, expressionless as she was joined by not one, not two, but five other lab hands, one of the them Jackson, all of them full-time personnel.
"Rachel.... Hand him over," Jackson said, holding out his hand expectantly.
Rachel glared daggers at him, even though she was fully aware of the impossibility of the situation. Like the mouse she was trying so hard to protect, she was trapped, her back against the wall, literally. They were going to take him. They were going to take him and there was nothing she could do about it....
"I told you not to do anything stupid," Jackson continued.
"Please...," Rachel pleaded, breathing heavily. "Please, let me take care of him. I'll train another in his place as compensation, I swear. Just... don't hurt him."
"And then you'll grow attached to that one and try and kidnap it. We've seen it before. You're not the first," Jackson reprimanded.
"Good," said Rachel. "I'm glad I'm not."
Privately, she wondered why she'd ever signed up for this in the first place. She wanted the degree. She wanted it badly. She also loved animals, and knew that following her passion came with sacrifices. What she hadn't counted on was how difficult it would be to accept that. It wasn't feasible, she realized. In fact, it was darn near impossible.
She looked down at the infant trembling in her pocket -- at this little creature that had captured her heart and locked it away, far away from any hopes and dreams of graduating in the medical field of her choosing. "He's not worth it," Lana had said. Was he not? Brian looked up at her, those glossy little eyes staring at her expectantly, trustingly. She smiled sadly at him and, for the last time, cuddled him close, before looking up at the troop across from her.
"If you want him, come and get him," she challenged. They weren't getting him without a fight.
And they rushed at her.
She tried to escape. Oh, she tried... and failed. They grabbed her by the arms as she wrestled against them, cheering Brian on as he somehow managed to escape from her pocket and slip underneath one of the shelving units in the room. But Lana caught him, Brian squeaking as his tail snagged between the beaker and the small metal panel she'd captured him with. He stared at Rachel, his desperate, panicked expression the last thing she saw before being knocked out.
-------
- Two Years Later -
The plan had failed. Rather spectacularly, he might add....
It was the first time in Brain's memory he could ever recall being caught red-handed by any of the personnel at Acme Labs. It was a miracle he and Pinky had managed to escape, but, despite his best attempts, they'd been separated in the process.
He made for a facility some yards away from the main laboratory, sweating as he squeezed under its front door and immediately hid under a cabinet to his right. Lights flashed now and again beyond the windows, desperate voices accompanying them as the scientists searched here and their for the escapees. Brain silently prayed that Pinky had somehow found a suitable hiding spot.
In his position under the cabinet, he backed up against the wall and slid down it, a paw clutching at his chest as he struggled to catch his breath. After a few seconds, he gulped, sniffed, and buried his face in his knees. Stupid. Stupid.... He'd jeopardized their whole mission. What if they'd captured Pinky? What would they do to him? And even if they did escape, where would they go? He'd ruined everything. Everything....
In his haste to remain undetected, he'd neglected to realize that this room... was not entirely devoid of life. It was a small area -- a security office, to be exact. Numerous monitors took up space on a desk, at which someone sat. They slid out of their chair and stepped over to Brain's hiding place. He noticed... and shivered.
Whatever, whomever, it was got down on their knees to peer at him from just outside the dresser.
"Hello...," they said.
It was a woman. Her voice was soft, and kind, but Brain turned his head away from her prying eyes. Typical. In an effort to not get caught he'd inevitably been ratted out. He immediately considered making a run for it, but, for some reason he couldn't explain, he didn't.
"Hey.... Shh. Shh. It's okay, little one. It's okay," cooed the woman. "You wanna come on out...?"
And she held out a hand to him. She didn't try to grab him, or scare him out. She simply... gave him a choice.
But it had been too long. He didn't recognize her, neither she him... until she noticed the tail. Then she knew.
"Brian...?" she breathed, eyes growing wide.
He stared at her, nonplussed, still shivering.
"Brian, it's me. Rachel," she beckoned, her hand still in place. But he didn't move. If anything, he frowned at her. "Brian"?
And she tried everything -- talking to him soothingly; offering him a treat from her pocket. Nothing worked. Brain simply hid his face once more, willing her to go away; to leave him be; to, hopefully, not report him to the authorities if they came to call.
Rachel sighed. She sat up for a moment, thinking, and blinked. Struck with a sudden idea, she rested her hands on her lap... and began to sing....
“La la lu, La la lu, Oh my little star sweeper, I'll sweep the star dust for you...“
Brain blinked... and lifted his head, ever so slowly....
“La la lu, La la lu, Little soft fluffy sleeper, Here comes a pink cloud for you...“
He stood up... and walked forward, right to the edge of the cabinet. She was still singing.
“La la lu, La la lu, Little wandering angel, Fold up your wings, Close your eyes...”
His mouth was fully open now, his round eyes glossy and getting ever shinier. He couldn't pull his gaze away from her face.
“La la lu, La la lu, And may love be your keeper...
La la lu, La la lu, La la lu....”
Rachel stared at him, smiling. He had completely stepped out from under the cabinet by now, his little body trembling slightly.
"Hello, little star sweeper," Rachel whispered to him.
Breath hitching, Brain ran onto her lap, up her shirt, and clutched tightly to her chest, only a second or two going by before he felt those familiar hands hold him gently, securely.
"Oh, Brian...," she choked, kissing his head. He didn't even flinch.
"Why didn't you come back?" he asked, unable to hold back his tears.
"I couldn't," she answered honestly. "But I was able to keep an eye on you from here."
He sniffed and pulled back a little to look around the room. It was, indeed, a security office, and a fairly high end one at that, decked out with all the works.
"I'm an artist now, but in my part time I take the night shift. They at least let me come back for that, probably 'cause Jackson and Lana are gone now," she chuckled softly. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you this time...."
Brain looked up at her, suddenly understanding. All that time they'd never been caught; never been reported. All those months and years that the camera had simply turned a blind eye to their antics. He thought it was simply negligence. Now he knew why.
"Thank you...," Brain whispered. "And it's... Brain now."
"I know," she smiled. “I still watch tv, ya' know. I just still remember you as my 'Brian'. I'm sorry, Brain."
He couldn't help but smile. All this time....
"Come with me?" Rachel asked him.
"Where?"
"Back to my place. I'll hide you. You can have the guest room, if you'd like."
A sharp knock at the door startled them both, and she quickly ran to her desk, Brain in her hands. She lifted him up and under the desk.
"There's a hidden panel in the roof! Get in it!" she whispered to him urgently.
He found it, albeit with a little difficulty. He pushed at a little area that looked as if it had been cut into... and down shifted a small cubby in which she kept an assortment of odd bits and bobs that were probably not supposed to be in her possession -- special looking keys and badges, among other things. He slipped into it, and Rachel pushed it closed before walking over to answer the door....
Another barrage of bangs thundered at the entrance as Rachel opened it, a hand on her hip as she held the door ajar, doing her best to look as ticked off as possible.
"Sheesh! Gimme a minute to finish pouring my tea! Gosh...."
Outside stood two gentlemen, both in lab coats, looking frantic.
"Have you seen a mouse?" one of them said. He was taller and appeared to be the leader. "White. Large cranium. He was with a companion."
Rachel shrugged.
"Is that what you guys have been looking for?"
"You haven't seen them on your cameras?" the second man asked, panting a little.
Rachel shook her head.
"No, I haven't seen anything."
The men exchanged glances.
"We'd better search the place, just to make sure," the leader said, and without further ado they barged in and began searching every nook, cranny, drawer, and trash can they could. They failed to find the hidden cubby, however. "Can we ask you to roll back the footage?"
"Sure, but you're not gonna find anything," Rachel shrugged again.
They did as permitted, scrutinizing every bit of film captured within the last ten minutes. Although they managed to catch one or two glimpses of the mice leaving the lab, as expected, they couldn't find hair no hide of them on any other roll. Behind their backs, Rachel smirked. Smart little guy. Even on the run, he'd purposely made sure not to walk in the path of the cameras.
After several more minutes of scrutiny, they finally gave up, heading for the door in a huff.
"Sorry for your time. Report to us if you find anything," said the leader.
"No problem," Rachel said, shutting the door with a snap behind them and sighing deeply. Yeah, right..., she thought.
Going back to her desk, she pushed open the hidden cubby. It lowered down and Brain immediately jumped into her hand, breathing rather heavily.
"Sorry, little one," Rachel apologized. I can imagine it's pretty stuffy in there...."
He gave her a look, albeit not a very harsh one. He had no reason to complain.
She raised her hand, allowing him to jump up onto her shoulder.
"They'll be back later to go over more footage," Rachel warned, sitting down at her desk and leaning back in her chair.
"I know," Brain said, licking at his paws and smoothing out his frazzled fur.
Rachel jumped a little and stared at him.
"Heh. I forgot you guys talk now...."
"Is that a problem...?" Brain asked, a little nervously.
Rachel smiled.
"Not at all."
She reached out a hand to scratch at a spot behind his ears.
"What are you...? Ohhhh-ho-ho-ho...," Brain melted, reeling a little at first before giving way to a goofy smile and a thumping foot as he pressed into the touch.
"Still got that little sensitive spot, huh?" Rachel chuckled, her scratches evolving into a head massage.
Brain practically fell off her shoulder, Rachel catching him in her hands and raising him up to eye level, the better to get a good look at him. He cleared his throat, embarrassed. How demoralizing.... But Rachel simply beamed at him.
"You know... I really missed you."
"I... wish I could say the same...," Brain confessed, shuffling a foot. He imagined he had thought of her often, as an infant, but over time the memories simply... faded.
Rachel didn't look upset, though.
"I understand. It's okay. I still love you."
"I...," Brain began, then stopped. No. He couldn't bring himself to say it. Even with Pinky he couldn't ever admit such a thing, and he loved Pinky most of all.
"You don't have to say it. I know you do in your heart," Rachel said, and she kissed him tenderly on the top of his head.
His ears flattened as she did it, and he almost immediately smoothed out the area where she'd kissed him, but he couldn't hide the blush tickling his cheeks and ears. Her behavior was cheesy as all get out, but privately he knew she was right. He did care, even if he'd never admit it.
Just then, something, or... someone, slipped underneath the door. A white-furred, lanky somebody.
"Pinky!!" Brain yelped.
Brain leapt off of Rachel in a flash, landing hard on the floor and limping a little as he ran into Pinky's outstretched arms.
"Brain!!" Pinky shouted right back. "Oh, I thought I'd never see you again!!"
He twirled him around in a circle or two before Brain became aware of what he was doing and promptly pushed himself out of Pinky's grasp, clearing his throat, once again embarrassed.
"Y-Yes, well.... I'm... glad you're safe, Pinky," Brain replied awkwardly, patting his companion on the head.
"Ohhh! Who's this, Brain?" Pinky asked, pointing up at Rachel, who still sat in her computer chair, smiling down at them both.
"Umm.... Pinky, this is Rachel. She's... an old friend."
"Nice to meet you, Pinky! I've heard a lot about you. Well, maybe not heard, but... I've seen you guys on the tv a lot!" Rachel said, beaming.
"You have?!" Pinky gasped, clasping two paws to his face in surprise. "Did you hear that, Brain? We're famous!!"
"Pinky, we've been famous many times, all of them never lasting as long as I'd like...," Brain recollected.
"Well, yes, Brain, but never to a friend!"
Rachel smiled and leaned forward a little.
"I have a proposition for you guys."
"For both of us? Is that legal, Brain?" Pinky whispered to his cage mate, looking concerned, to which Brain facepalmed.
"Proposition, Pinky, not proposal."
"Ohhhhhhhhh. Well, that's different then, isn't it?" Pinky said, nodding eagerly to Rachel.
"How would you guys like to come room at my place? Just for as long as you need until you can get off your feet."
Once again, Pinky gasped excitedly.
"Can we, Brain?!"
"Well...," Brain pondered, hesitating. The offer, though generous, made him feel rather... helpless and awkward, as if he was intruding.
"You're welcome to any of the food and stuff. I've got havarti," she smirked.
Pinky gasped again.
"Oh, please, please, please, please, pleeeeaaaaase, Brain?!?" Pinky pleaded again.
"You're... sure you wouldn't mind?" Brain asked. "I'd hate to intrude...."
"My house is yours," Rachel said genuinely. "And it comes with a pool table," she added, winking at Pinky.
Pinky was doing his utmost to contain a squeal, biting his lip and practically bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. Brain rolled his eyes.
"Oh, all right...," he relented.
"YAAAAAY!!" exclaimed Pinky, jumping into Rachel's outstretched hand, followed by Brain, as she lifted them up onto her shoulder.
"You'll have to hide in my backpack on the way to the car," she said. "The next guy is about to swap out with me."
And she pulled her backpack up from off the floor and plopped it onto the desk, opening it up. Pinky sprung off her shoulder as if it was a diving board, plunging into the depths of the backpack, which, by all accounts, wasn't very deep. Pinky didn't seem to mind, though. He had fun "swimming" around amongst the snacks, car keys, pencils, wallet, and little sketchpad all the same. Brain simply shook his head, unable to keep a smile off his face. What an idiot.
Rachel was as good as her word. They were given the guest bedroom, along with access to the rest of the house, food included. Provided they didn't draw too much attention to themselves, they were allowed to tinker and plan all they liked within the safety of the back room, and lie low they did, for Acme Labs was on the hunt for a good number of weeks before they gave up on finding them entirely.
Pinky was quite fond of the seemingly unlimited amount of cheese available in the fridge, along with the plethora of movies Rachel had at her disposal. He was often to be found in front of the television, and if he wasn't there he was by Brain's side almost constantly. Brain was most grateful for the space in which to concoct experiments and conjure up plans for world domination, although he had to improvise more often than not, seeing as he didn't have all of the lab's equipment at his beck and call anymore. It was something he sorely missed, but he couldn't say he minded the warm bed and good food that came with their new living quarters either. It was... nice.
Once in a blue moon (which ended up being once a month), Pinky would request Lady and the Tramp for movie night, not just because he liked it, but because of Brain's unusual reaction to it. He liked to watch him subconsciously lean up against Rachel as they sat next to her, eventually breaking down into a fit of silent tears as "La La Lu" danced around the room. Sometimes Rachel would pick him up, holding him close and massaging his head as he calmed against her chest. Oftentimes, Pinky would join them, cuddling up next to Brain as they nuzzled together in Rachel's warm hands.
"I love you, Brain," Pinky would mumble sweetly, giving him an extra squeeze.
"I love you, little one," whispered Rachel, petting him softly.
I love you, too, said Brain in his own little way, holding them both just a tiny bit tighter, a smile creeping its way up onto his face. It was nice, being loved....
~ I love you, too. ~
The End
-------------
The ending of this is meant to be sort of an alternate to Pinky, Elmyra, and the Brain. What if they'd ended up there after running away from Acme instead of at Elmyra's?
I didn’t realize until after writing this that it makes no sense for Rachel to be cool with Brain talking one minute, only to be surprised by it the next. It’s a glaring error on my part, but I left it in as a reminder to myself that I need to be more careful. Lol.
Technically, this whole thing is a self-insert, although the name of the girl is not my real name. It’s actually the cognomen of my very first rat. Ha-ha. But the personality of the character is me -- how I talk; act around animals; and most likely what I’d do if put into this situation. The exception is the chase scene. I don’t think I’d act that... panicked? Who knows, though....
This is kind of a way I show compassion for Brain, seeing as I cannot, of course, give him an actual hug. I love Brain more than any other fictional character I’ve ever had the pleasure of watching on screen. It’s not a romantic love or anything. Certainly not. It’s more... maternal. The desire to love and protect is strong. That combination of: individual with a tragic backstory + laboratory setting + main character who happens to be a mouse = the perfect concoction to turn my heart to mush. I owned rats for many years and have a great love for animals, and tend to get attached to certain fictional characters, so here you have the result. He’d be as averse as ever to physical affection, but if I could hold Brain in my hands, plant a kiss on his head, and tell him he’s loved. I would. Thank God for Pinky.
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youarejesting · 3 years
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Mania.10
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[MASTER LIST] [Mania Master list]
Rating: Mature 18+ Pairing: BTS OT7 Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Comedy, Omegaverse Words: 1.4k Blood types: Namjoon, Jhope, Jungkook, Yoongi (A) Taehyung (AB) Jin, Jimin and Yoongi (O) (Jimin in real life is an A blood type)
Summary: At eighteen everyone takes a blood test to find out their blood types. A, B, or O. Each blood type represents the person’s secondary gender Alpha, Beta or Omega and can be Dominant (+) or Recessive (-).
When small thin Yoongi receives his letter he doesn’t expect A+. There was no way he was an Alpha especially not a dominant. But as time passes he shows no Alpha nor Omega tendencies and frankly he doesn’t care. Working in his father’s electrical business helps pay the bills but Yoongi’s real passion is music.
One very hot day in the roof space of a luxury apartment that Yoongi is rewiring an intoxicatingly pleasant smell churns his insides and he finds himself in need of something to quench his thirst.
[First] [Prev] [Mania] [END]
Warning: Smut, poly sex, biting, marking. (If you notice anymore that you think should be listed let me know.)
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Crying out in ecstasy Yoongi was overwhelmed by the loving hands that caressed and teased him, they were relentless. Seokjin and Jimin both helped to please Yoongi, their eyes wide with excitement to watch Yoongi being filled by his Hyung's. The omegas were exciting as their scents all mixed, “You are so pretty Yoongi-Hyung.”
“Sweet like Sugar.” Namjoon licked his lips as he took a step back, the group admiring their work.
“Sugar-Hyung,” Hoseok hummed affectionately, watching Seokjin and Jimin gently wipe Yoongi down with warm water and soft clothes.
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Yoongi didn’t know exactly when the decision had been made but he was accepted into the house permanently and found himself spending most of his time snuggling on whoever's bed was free and warm. Which meant the days when Hoseok woke at ungodly hours of the morning, just so he could wash the sheets. He would be kicked out from the confines of the heavy comforter and woken from his slumber.
When this happened he found himself sneaking into Namjoon and Seokjin’s bed and the two larger men would pull him between them and cuddle him. It was quieter and less chaotic than the younger trio’s bed, whenever he found himself in their bed they had a tendency to let their hands wander.
Seokjin and Namjoon were less likely to let their hormones take over but the probability was never zero. He laid his head on Seokjin’s broad chest enjoying the soft fig and papaya scent. Pressed against his back and caging him in was the strong form of Namjoon, his thick biceps draped over the two omegas protectively. His pine and cinnamon scent, a reminder of his frequent hikes and the tiny greenhouse on the balcony.
In the midst of a rather wholesome dream, Yoongi felt a hot flush overtake him. His dream took a turn, the sweet scene turning spicy as he imagined various escapades with Hoseok. The desire swelled in his chest, as dream Hoseok took him from behind his lips pressing against Yoongi’s neck. 
Excitement and hope spiked as Yoongi felt the scrape of teeth at his nape, “Hoseok.”
“Yoongi, wake up, you are dreaming,” Namjoon whispered in his ear making Yoongi shiver awake but the disappointment set in. “You have been releasing pheromones and whining for Hoseok.”
Yoongi didn’t know why but the tears started to leak from the corners of his eyes, rolling over his nose and seeping into the pillowcase. “Hey, shh… tell Hyung what’s wrong?”
Yoongi rolled into the child's pose hiding his tears from the world, taking small gasps, his body shaking. Jungkook must have caught the scent of Yoongi’s pheromones, his mix of arousal and sorrow. Seokjin was quick to order the younger boy to carry Yoongi to Hoseok immediately. 
Yoongi was scooped up into Jungkook’s strong arms crying, Having been face first in the pillows Yoongi hadn’t seen that Jungkook was in fact shirtless, his grey sweats desperately hanging onto the young man’s hips. Jungkook’s hands were cupped on Yoongi’s ass, supporting him from slipping. The omega tried desperately to wrap his arms around Jungkook, settling instead to grip his biceps and cry into his pectorals.
Jungkook shushed him, the sound of a door opening allowed Hoseok’s voice to drift from the studio into the hall where Yoongi sniffled. He wanted to get his emotion under control so that Hoseok wouldn’t pry and hear his lame reasoning as to why he was crying so early in the morning. There was nothing more embarrassing than saying he was disappointed by a really good dream and wished Hoseok would mark him and keep him forever.
“Hey, what’s-” Hoseok’s words were cut short by the clatter of a headset on the desk, Yoongi was pulled from Jungkook’s arms. He laid the omega’s back against his chest and nuzzled his neck. Tears erupted heavier as sobs broke past Yoongi’s lips. Jungkook took his leave, letting the two have some privacy.
“My Suga, What is wrong?” Hoseok had a funny way of calling Yoongi, it sounded more like ‘shooga’ than like sugar.
“I had a dream,” Yoongi whimpered, pressing his fists into his eyes in an attempt to wipe away the tears that were betraying him. He wasn’t weak and he didn’t want Hoseok to ever think he was someone who let his emotions take control of him.
“A bad dream?” Hoseok asked, trying to turn Yoongi on his lap so Hoseok could look up at him.
“No,” Yoongi whined, protesting the idea that the dream he had could have ever been considered a nightmare. The Hoseok in his dream was affectionate and loving he didn’t hold back and made Yoongi feel so safe, he knew all of Hoseok’s intentions and the two were both in tune with each other's emotions and they didn’t have to speak to just know. Maybe it was stupid clearly the Hoseok Yoongi had conjured in his head was just that, they knew each other's thoughts and feelings inside because he had conjured this Hoseok from his own mind.
Taking a small breath, Yoongi buried his face in his hands, swamped by the soft sleeves of Hoseok’s sweater. “It’s nothing.”
“Jimin said you hold all your thoughts and emotions inside and we won’t know what the other is thinking if you don’t tell me.” Hoseok reasoned gently, rubbing Yoongi’s shoulders in an effort to make the omega relax and open up. 
“It was a good dream, we were together on the bed and you were doing everything I liked and then you marked me.” Yoongi made to stand up, “It was just a dumb dream and I am sorry for bothering you, I know we aren’t really anything I guess it’s just the omega part of me wanting to be marked by an Alpha.”
Hoseok let Yoongi walk across the room, it was short-lived as the Alpha threw him over his shoulder and carried him down the hall, and threw him onto the freshly made bed. Hoseok kicked the door shut and climbed over Yoongi kissing him with so much passion all of Yoongi’s doubts were fading away. The small lingering disappointment resting in his heart as a reminder, no matter how hard Hoseok kissed him the feeling never disappeared completely.
Hoseok was different from his usual excitable state, his hands were gentle and his moves slow and full. Rolled onto his stomach, hips lifted up, Hoseok seemed to care about Yoongi’s pleasure and neglecting his own. Yoongi noticed the Alpha wasn’t doing half the things he loved to with him. 
“Hoseok, let me help you?” Yoongi gasped trying to turn but Hoseok gently held him in place taking some deep audible breaths.
“I love you Yoongi,” He breathed, making Yoongi’s heart flutter with the words. “Do you feel the same way?”
“Uh, yes,” Yoongi whined, the pleasure was becoming too much.
“Say it.”
“I love you.” Yoongi buried his face again but he knew the red had spread to his ears and neck. Hoseok kissed his neck and whispered his hot breath brushing the shell of Yoongi’s ear.
“Would you like to stay with me forever?” Hoseok received a nod from Yoongi which made him scoff. “I need you to say it Yoongi, remember we won’t know what each other is thinking and feeling if we don’t say it.”
“Yes, I want to stay with you forever.” Yoongi cried out his body tensing as Hoseok’s lips pressed once more to the back of Yoongi’s neck. “Please.”
Teeth claimed the soft skin of Yoongi’s neck marking him forever as two equal halves of a pair and mates. Yoongi shivered as Hoseok soothed the bite with his tongue. Elation was all they felt as they slipped into their own Utopia within the soft sheets. Yoongi was finally excited to share his forever with Hoseok.
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Tags: @staerryminimini​
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lazysimp · 3 years
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Hey hey hey it's bakugo x Female cow* reader. {PLOT} bakugo Is overprotective of his little cow* cuz all the other animals aka bulls want reader. so every time he See's the other bulls messing with his bb🥺 he has to run up and scare them away which might end up reader being bred cuz they weren't giving him enough attention
Click Here to read male reader
A/N: I have never written anything like this before so let me know what you think. These are the features I imagined Bakugou/reader has. I hope you don’t mind that I did this more as thirst than a full fic.
Warnings/tags: NONCON/DUBCON, cow girl (Idk how to tag that), animal hybrid fic, breeding, oral sex, vaginal sex, Fem reader
When you had first stepped foot onto the soft grass you immediately attracted dozens of eyes but one pair stood out.
They belonged to a bull not any larger than the rest but his vivid red eyes gave away how dangerous he really was. You made a mental note to avoid him at all costs but it seemed he had a different idea.
Everywhere you went those same red eyes followed you. You tried to lose him in the crowd but that only created a new problem, the other bulls.
Their harassment started off small, a few wolf whistles here and there, but soon it escalated into something darker, they tried to corner you whenever you were alone, using their size to block you in, you had no chance in hell of scaring them off.
Somehow every time they almost had you, they always would back off at the last second, their eyes wide with fear. You had always been too relieved to care why they left.
But one day as the sun set you decided to lay under a new tree, wanting some privacy from the prying eyes, unknowing that you were being followed. As you lay your head down on the soft grass a dark shadow covered you.
You crack your eyes open, not wanting to give away that you were awake but the figure above you knew better.
His large hands seal themselves around your heels pulling you towards his body. He rested on his knees, his cock already standing just from the sight of you.
For weeks he had worked to earn your trust, defending you from all the others, making sure you had plenty of food, the best places to sleep, and even protecting you from himself.
But watching you sleep under his tree, whether you knew it or not, was too much for him to handle, he needed to claim you and now.
Your sweet eyes looked up at him with fear, unsure what he was going to do, you had not meant to invade his space, you just wanted some time to yourself from the others but you had unknowingly waved a red flag looking so sweet and innocent under his tree, oh you were going to be his.
Not wasting any more time his head descended, teasing you with his mouth. At first, you had tried to deny him, unsure what he really wanted, but as his tongue twirled around the tender bud of your clit you forgot why you were fighting.
Before you could reach your final peak his mouth stopped and he rose to his knees giving you the chance to stare at him. His fat cock stood straight up nearly touching his belly button. His stomach was covered in a fine layer of blonde hair and he had a thick tuft of hair just above the base of his cock.
You try to scramble away, your brain finally able to think again but he was faster, lifting you briefly into the air before setting you down, pushing your head down into the grass while forcing you to lift your hips.
“That is it,” he groans, finally able to catch a glimpse of your tight entrance. His cock ached at the thought of finally being able to fill you up.
Not wasting any more time he uses his thumbs to spread apart your cunt, he lets out a long stream of spit, wetting your tense hole. He admired as you squirmed around under him, your little tail waving frantically.
“Shh,” he cooed, stroking the soft skin of your back with his fingers, “I am going to make you feel so good, fill you up until your stomach is full of my cum.”
You wiggle, even more, feeling the strange feeling from earlier return.
“That’s it,” he lines his cock up with your entrance and before you could draw in another breath he pushes forward. He ignored your pained cries and keeps going until he is fully seated. He feels bad causing you pain but he needed to claim you, to show everyone else that you were his.
After giving you a minute to adjust to his intrusion he pulls back his hips, admiring how your hole flutters around his cock. Yes, he had never been more certain. You were his, and he was going to show all of them. The only way he will ever allow you to leave his side is with his cum dripping from your hole, showing all of them who you belong to.
Soon your cries grow into whimpers as his thick cock brushes past a wonderful spot inside you, sending small sparks of pleasure through you. You grab the grass under you, needing something to hold onto as he claimed you.
Pleased to see you had finally accepted your place his hand reaches down, his middle finger slipping through your slick folds to find your clit. When his finger lands on the bundle you lurch forward, the pleasure too much but he pushed you back into place and stroked his finger in time with his thrusts. You had no hope in stopping the blinding pleasure crashing through you finally reached your peak.
Feeling you cum around him sent Bakugou over the edge. He leaned over, groaning in your ear as he released inside you, your clenching pussy milking his cock for every drop of cum.
You both fall to the ground, still resting under the shade of the tree. "Mine,” he mumbles, "That sweet fuckin' cunt is all mine," his lush lips press a gentle kiss to your forehead as he pulls you in close.
You snuggle in closer, already feeling his essence starting to drip out from your abused hole but you were too tired to care. Your life had just changed drastically and you wanted to freak out but as he tucked your head into his chest the only thought you had was how warm you felt.
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peeterparkr · 4 years
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perennial;tom holland|prologue
sequel to perfidy. 
Prologue: daffodils 
↳ flower meaning: new beginnings. 
story summary: After the war, Tom let the flowers die of thirst, Harry decided to water dry flowers and Timmy never stopped taking care of his. But flowers speak for us, flowers have meanings. And like flowers, maybe you’ll keep on blooming, it’ll be up to you if you decide to wither. And it’ll be up to you what flower you end up choosing.  
pairing: tom holland x y/n
warnings: a bit sad, just a little. 
word count: 3k
first chapter.  perfidy (final chapter) ( series masterlist) 
perennial masterlist.
wanna be tagged?
Hello, finally, the long awaited prologue is here. I hope you like this as much as you liked perfidy. Hope I can live up to your expectations! I’m super excited for this! Let’s bloom. 
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To make a flower last, you have to water them, provide them with enough sunlight, and love. There are flowers that last, flowers that don’t. There are flowers that bloom again, there are flowers that even in times of diversity, they manage to get up and in their colors. There are flowers that only bloom once. 
Perennial flowers tend to keep blooming, for short times, then fall dormant the rest of the year.
Flowers, like humans, die of thirst. 
But humans, like flowers, can bloom again. 
You hadn’t, you wouldn’t. Not now. 
The usual thing after a breakup is to feel lost, cold. Everyone tells you to keep yourself busy, to reach out for people, ignore social media, change your surroundings. Keep yourself distracted, go out with friends. 
Start a new life. Bloom again. 
In other breakups it had been easy, you had cried a few days. You had pitied yourself and listened to sad music. Watched sad movies. You remember going out with your best friend to parties, movies, park, arcades. You remember shielding on your studying, your photography, your writing. You kept yourself busy.
Keep yourself busy. That’s what everyone tells you. Re-start your life. You should go to a new beginning. Keep yourself busy? Bloom again? 
How were you supposed to do that? You had died of thirst.  You had technically no job now, none of your friends wanted to speak to you. You didn’t want to write. You didn’t want to go out. 
How?
What were you supposed to do? How pathetic. 
How were you supposed to when you were the one who had wrecked your relationship? 
You wondered what would’ve happened if you’d told him sooner about it, if things had been different. Would you be in his arms? 
You needed to call your friends.
You didn’t want to do that, really. What friends, really? 
Timmy? Sam? You couldn’t call them. 
Charlie and Danielle? You didn’t want to. 
Emily? You were never close with her. 
Harry? No, not Harry. You were very angry at him. 
Tom? 
Tom. 
He was the only one you wanted to call. But he never was a friend. And well… He wouldn’t answer. And why would he? 
And why would you call him? What would you tell him if he answered? 
You should; though. 
After that day, you were seeing his face everywhere. You knew it would come. You thought you had initially imagined Tom after the kiss. You thought it had been your imagination, as if your mind was playing a trick.
But it hurt to think you could’ve built something so beautiful. Timmy had asked you why you still loved Tom. 
Why wouldn’t you? 
There was still so much love waiting for Tom. In the little time you’ve spent together, you had learned that kissing comes in many different forms and emotions. You learned a new superpower he had, how to take away minutes from time so he could make it stop. You learned that you could really run out of breath from laughing, and you learned that it is possible to share one only breath. You learned that he could take away your breath with only one single glance, and you had learned how to lie. 
White lies, to help you both sneak into places where you could only bump smiles to one another. You had learned how to forgive him. 
You had forgiven him. But he would never forgive you.
And maybe that was what made this one breakup more difficult. Knowing that you had killed a flower. 
Loneliness is a curse, a very horrible curse. You didn’t want to call your brother because you didn’t want to hear another lecture over what you did was wrong but how it wasn’t your fault and then trying to stop him from coming for Tom. 
You hated Harry right now. 
Because, you were confused. Very, very confused. Why wouldn’t you? 
Harry had kissed you. 
Tom had seen it. 
And Timmy was currently calling you. You ignored the phone call. And thought about it, how stupid this felt. Confusion wasn’t new. And your mind was shooting you with flashbacks, just like it had done with Tom. 
But now, Harry? Harry? But this wasn’t right. Harry was a friend, right? 
Yes, he was a friend. 
Harry. 
There hadn’t been any sparks. No. Because you loved Tom. 
You really loved him.
But…? 
No. 
But then there was that thought in your mind again. How did you feel about Harry? 
Right now, angry. Yes. Because for now you didn’t care about you, you cared about Emma. Emma was a friend you’d found along the way. And really, you missed her. 
You’d lost too many people in the sake of a few days. 
Best you could do now was to pretend you’re okay. For your parents, for your brother. For yourself. 
Damn, but this was so stupid. How the hell had Harry done this so selfishly? 
You really couldn’t call him out on selfishness. But you were angry. Because you were so vain. Naive and vain if that makes any sense, at all. 
And you knew that the letter you’d sent to Tom could have… calmed things. Now they would seem like your words were empty. 
It should’ve lasted longer, you knew it wouldn’t, but it should’ve. Tom. Tom was who you loved. 
You’ve given him one letter, you wouldn’t write another one. There wasn’t much to be said now. You had spent most days building up an excuse or a plan to forget about him. 
You had cleaned out your room, removing every Polaroid from your wall, because now that you didn’t have Tom’s it felt empty. And maybe that was what opened your eyes, you had to cleanse yourself, because all your life you had had that question. 
“What if?” 
Tom had been that constant what if in your mind and that’s how it turned out. Big disaster. And then you hated it, again. It was meant to always end up that way. 
How many chances had you left behind because you had been clung to Tom? How many romances had passed by because you had ingrained in Tom? Because of that stupid thought. 
Loneliness is a curse, yes, but it’s also a blessing. Because you realized it. And it had been good that you’d gotten rid of everything and given it to him, you couldn’t keep holding on to something that would lead you nowhere, you couldn’t keep holding on to something that would end up in another disaster. Though you knew it was him and always him and you’ll always keep waiting for him to show up… you couldn’t keep up with that. 
Even now, you were waiting for him to show up with yellow flowers, but he wouldn’t. He wouldn't show up. He wouldn’t call and it was stupid to be waiting for one call. 
And though in your walls it had seemed easy to take off, the real story wasn’t. How many things had you let go off because of Tom? 
He’d robbed you of every chance of being happy. He was the reason why you’d probably always cancelled plans for him, and he had been the reason you’d said no to a marriage proposal that would have probably been the ideal ending for you. 
But it was Tom. Always. Always. Always Tom. And no matter how many times you’ve tried, it kept coming back to you. Every time, you always stopped yourself from taking new chances, of beginning again because there was always that thought in your head, that Tom and you were meant to be. You were so stubborn, like a tired child who is throwing a tantrum for a popsicle. 
But no, you saw it again, in the most poetic and romantic way, the way it could work for a story. Everlasting. Never ending. Infinite.
That’s so dumb. 
It was different now, and you’d always been crying for him. There you were now, again crying for him, hugging a pillow staring at the empty walls. You shouldn’t have left that day, you should’ve explained it to him. Tell him you hadn’t been the one to start the kiss but at the moment, you saw it as a loss. 
Had he read the letter that you’ve written a whole night? 
Maybe. Maybe not. 
He probably was crying too. You know Tom was a silent crier, something you’ve learned among the years. You knew he probably would cry when he was in the shower or brushing his teeth, or just as he was about to go to bed. 
You were very much alike. But you knew he probably wasn’t crying right now. You knew you probably were the only one laying down on the bed crying. 
Had this been all inspired by that stupid child that had first fallen in love with him? 
Everything was… lost. 
You’d touched rock bottom. That meant you could only go up from now. 
Maybe it had never been supposed to last forever. And you knew you had known it from the first time his sight turned tender, this wouldn’t last. Just like flowers, you would wither. And you had. 
And although New York was a bliss to remember, you wanted to forget it because it hurt. 
People say that when you break up with someone you should start again. Maybe you would. 
And the sun always comes out after the storm. The brightest of dawns would come after the darkest nights. 
It would come. 
Like a flower you’d bloom again, eventually. But you wondered if any flowers were able to bloom after the coldest of  winter frosts. 
A change. 
But there you were still ignoring Timmy’s call. 
Life had presented a chance. And you were wondering if you should take it. 
It would be stupid if you didn’t. It wasn’t… The opportunity of a lifetime. Maybe it was But it was a chance for a change. 
A big change. 
Would you let another chance go because you were still attached to Tom? Would you let go another life because of Tom? 
Cherry had called. She was moving to London. Cherry. Your cousin, around your age, few months older, pretty, very pretty and cheerful. Her mother, your mom’s sister, had moved to LA to follow her aspiring acting career but ended up opening a flower shop. 
She was quite a character. And she had had a proposition which seemed like a crazy fever dream when she said it:
 “I got offered a job in London! Can I go crash your place for a bit? Let’s be roomies! Or we could switch places! Come to LA, and go after your dream, sweetie! Come help with the flower shop!” 
That was… An idea. Crazy idea. 
Cherry was your cousin, you wouldn’t be alone if she came. That part of the plan you were kind of okay with. 
But leaving?
You had told Timmy about it. Because you had to face that, too. Timmy was leaving. Timmy, and you couldn’t be more thankful, had been making sure you didn’t feel lonely. You didn’t know why he had been so kind to you. But Timmy was leaving. 
He had told you a few days before, how he had kept it as a secret for a while. He’d be leaving for LA. Hollywood. 
And he wouldn’t go alone. 
Emma. Emma was going with him, too. They were starting again. A new life. Chasing their dreams, going for the stars. 
Hollywood. 
So there you had been, wondering if you should tell Cherry to come and live with you. Have some company, not be alone. Maybe she’d make friends and then you could tag along with them. 
Or switch places
“What would you lose?” Timmy had asked you. “Maybe it’s the change you need.” 
“Dunno. Leaving home to a stranger?” 
“It’s your cousin,” Timmy said. 
You shrugged. “I don’t like people invading my space.” 
“That’s just an excuse for you not to go.” 
“Why would I leave?” 
“You need a new start, y/n,” Timmy said. 
“But I can re-start here,” you pointed out. “Besides, working at a flower shop.” 
“Then tell her to come,” Timmy said. 
“But I can’t live with… someone,” you chuckled.
“You can, you’re just giving excuses to stay alone.” 
You stayed quiet. “I am alone.”
“I don’t want you to be.” 
You sighed. 
“You could tag along with us, too.” 
“Emma wouldn’t like that.” 
“She’s forgiven you,” Timmy said. 
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Timmy had assured you. “She understood it wasn’t your fault.” 
You didn’t Answer anything. 
“What would you lose if you came to LA, too?” 
You would lose your chance to see if Tom ever showed up at your door again.
“Is there anything you could lose?” He asked again. 
Was there? 
And you had called Emma. And it had been difficult, complicated, and weird at the beginning. You apologized again. Because Emma really didn’t deserve to be there. 
She told you she’d given back the ring. You had told her about the kiss… That was not your place to tell her and you would be risking everything by telling her. But you needed a new beginning and this involved telling things. Even if it risked ending things earlier.
But she’d understood. No, it wasn’t easy. And it was a conversation that lasted a couple of days. And at least that had kept you busy. Trying to mend that relationship. And maybe Emma needed a friend, too. Maybe Emma really needed someone too. And of course, she was angry. 
She didn’t blame you, though. She believed you. And Emma knew it, then. You told her the whole story, beginning to end. Script and memories and explanations, of everything. You even told her about your feelings for Harry and how angry you were. You told her that yes, you had felt something, but friendship was more important. 
You didn’t have that friendship anymore, though.
She understood, more than anything. Because maybe it’s a universal thing. To not know how to feel. To be confused. The heartbreak. To feel like you’re not going to bloom again. 
But she saw you, going through the pain that she felt. And you listened to her, and you cursed every damned time the damned script came up. But you understood each other. Because both of you didn’t understand it. And she’d seen your story, and she didn’t blame you. Because sometimes you give everything nd it’s not enough. And maybe that’s why she’d pitied you, because she’d also given everything, but Harry had broken her once, and Tom, Tom had broken you once, twice, three times. And no, it hadn’t been easy. But maybe she needed the other side of the story or maybe she just needed a girl friend. 
Just like you needed one. 
Because Emma, Emma was lonely too. 
Honestly the conversation with her had ended up in the incredible conclusion that all of us women get to eventually: Men are trash.
“Honestly, you know what we should do?” You had said. 
“What?” 
“Let’s go to Greece, sleep with three men—“
“But—“ Emma frowned.
“Hear me out,” you chuckled. “Make sure we get knocked up—“
“Are you insane?” Emma cackled.
“I haven’t finished,” you laughed. “Open up a nice Greek hotel, wait 20 years until our respective daughters get hitched and wait for them to invite their three possible dads to the wedding. And we can have fun singing ABBA songs.”
“Is that—“
“The plot to Mamma Mia? Absolutely.” 
And maybe you should’ve gone to Greece. Honestly you were considering it. But it was soothing, having a friend. It was nice. You had both talked on the floor, crying over two damned Holland’s. You’d start a club. And it was the beginning of an old friendship. It’s nice to have a friend.
So of course you were bummed she was leaving.
“Let’s go to Hollywood, y/n,” Emma said. 
Would you take Cherry’s offer? 
You wouldn’t. That was only stupid. And though Hollywood was talking to you and you aspired to follow the big dream. The big screen called you, and you were probably blinded by every light that was begging you to go, you knew you’d only reach out for a dream that had tumbled you down. The dream that had withered you. And really, to go without any job? And go work in a flower shop… You loved flowers, but it wasn’t… You didn’t know anything about them, just that yellow flowers made you cry, that Timmy gave you peonies and that lavenders meant calm. 
And going to LA without any chance…. No. 
Because Timmy had one. And Emma had one.
You didn’t. 
So you’d received your cousin. A roommate.  Which was… Different. She’d asked about your room, how lonely it seemed. First thing she noticed was the yellow flowers you had, from the scratch bouquets you’d made for Tom. 
“Yellow tulips? And yellow roses? Hopeless love and forgiveness? Daffodils? New beginning. Who did you hurt, cousin?” 
You didn’t tell her anything about your life, not really. Except you wanted to start a new one. You told her that you were going through a tough time and you wanted a new beginning. 
“Like a daffodil, then,” Cherry said. 
You didn’t answer. 
“Like daffodils, those pretty yellow flowers, you had them here.” 
“Yellow… flowers?” 
“Yes, perennial flowers, they bloom each year in spring, just after the coldest of winter frost,” she grinned.  “They mean new beginnings, we should get some for the house, I believe that flowers help us heal, sometimes we don’t get it but the flowers we choose are normally the ones that say what we want,” she nodded. “You know, maybe it’s cause I’ve been in that flower shop my whole life, but I really do believe that flowers speak for us, so let’s get you some daffodils, get you a new beginning.” 
You weren’t a daffodil. But you really were going through a winter frost. At least you felt as cold. But would you bloom? 
“Yeah, like a daffodil.” 
And life really wanted you to bloom again it seemed, and it really wanted you to have a new beginning. Life then again, gave your other chance.the big opportunity. Life having mercy. 
Because there had been another call, too. A few days after Cherry arrived. 
“Y/N, hello dear, why haven’t you been answering my calls?” 
“I’m sorry, Alessandra, I’ve been… busy.” 
“You have a job already?” She asked. 
“I—“
“Because if you do I need you to quit right now.” 
“What?”
“Because they’re producing your script.”
“I thought they didn’t—“
“I sent it to another studio, we are going to Hollywood, darling.” 
And maybe this was your chance to bloom again, like a daffodil. And you had tried to call him, Tom. 
And he never came, until it was too late. 
And you’d asked Cherry that if he ever came, to give him daffodils. And he had, and he had brought heleniums, evening primroses and chamomiles. 
“Yellow flowers, too,” Cherry had told you as soon as you’d landed on LAX. “Funny thing, cousin, he didn’t even know what flowers he’d chosen, can you believe it! But once again the flowers spoke for him, he brought heleniums which mean let me comfort you, and chamomiles, oh chamomiles which mean he admires your courage and the lovely evening primroses, which mean he’s unsteady, but will learn to love you.” 
“Did you give him the daffodils?” 
“Yeah, yeah, it’s funny isn’t it? You both chose yellow.” 
“Yeah, funny.” 
“The other guy, he brought daisies.” 
“Other guy?” You asked. 
“Yeah, Harry, he said that was his name.” 
Harry had brought you flowers. 
“It’s funny isn’t it, the guy in the morning who helped you pack-- He brought peonies.” 
“Harry?” 
“No, your friend bought peonies,” Cherry pushed. “Those mean romance, huh.” 
“No, but… Harry came?” 
“Yeah, yeah he brought daisies,” Cherry said. “Isn’t it funny, though, the three of them brought perennial flowers.” 
“What even-” 
“Perennial flowers, which means they were dormant but that eventually, they'll bloom again.”
But who would bloom? 
first chapter. perfidy (final chapter) ( series masterlist)
perennial masterlist.
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pengychan · 3 years
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[Coco] Mind the Gap, Pt. 23
Title: Mind the Gap Summary: Modern Day AU. Tired of Ernesto’s snide remarks, Imelda decides to put him in his place and her husband is more than happy to help. It was supposed to be a one-night deal. Things quickly get out of hand. [OT3, mostly porn and humor. Plenty of instances of Ernesto being Dramatic, Imelda getting Sick Of His Shit, and Héctor trying to be the peacekeeper. Don’t expect anything serious.] Pairings: Ernesto/Héctor/Imelda Rating: Explicit.
Art by @swanpit​.
[All chapters are tagged as ‘mind the gap’ on my blog.]
A/N: Long overdue make-up sex? Long overdue make-up sex. Only the epilogue left before this is all wrapped up!
***
“... I need water.”
“Seconded.”
“Thirded.”
Silence. Some shuffling.
“Well, who’s going?”
“I’m not. I went and got Coco back to sleep when she cried. Did my part.”
“I am not getting off this couch.”
“If you make me go, I’m only getting water for myself.”
“I hate you both.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Uugh. No, I don’t.” Ernesto groans, rubbing his eyes before dropping his head back against the couch’s backrest. He grimaces towards the kitchen. “What time is it, anyway?”
“Three in the morning.”
“What! Where has the evening gone!”
“Where has the entire day gone, we began discussing this over lunch,” Héctor mutters, laying upside-down with his legs over the backrest.
He is not wrong, really: they have quite literally spent half a day and much of the night discussing where to go from there. They talked through lunch, through the afternoon with Coco passing from one set of arms to another whenever she was not napping, talked while Héctor changed her diapers with a frequency Ernesto found frankly concerning given the child’s small size. They took a brief break from talking while walking their dogs - best to be careful with their words outside - and feeding Coco respectively. 
More talking ensued as they put Coco in her playpen to watch a cartoon, as they cooked dinner, as they ate it, as Coco fell asleep cuddled up to Pepita while the dogs watched with envy from outside the playpen, with Dante having finally learned that trying to jump in would spell disaster. 
They discussed everything they could possibly discuss - their arrangement, how it could work going forward, whether to tell Coco, what to tell Coco once she was old enough, how to keep it private business without having to actively hide, what family members could be told and what family members could never - coming to the agreement Imelda’s brothers were probably the only ones who could be trusted, at the moment, to possibly know if it came to it.
“I never thought I’d see the day I had to say they can be trusted over our father,” Imelda said as she disappeared to put a very sleepy Coco in her crib, and Héctor and Ernesto were still snickering at the idea when she came back. They sat on the couch with a drink, resumed talking, and never stopped except for the time Coco began crying and had to be soothed by a very concerned Héctor.
Until, of course, exhaustion and thirst caught up with them at three in the damn morning. 
“So, I’m going to be the waiter from now on,” Ernesto mutters, just a little dramatically, as he finally gets off the couch to fetch everyone some water. He guzzles down a glass, fills two more, and brings them back. Héctor and Imelda drink just as greedily while he flops back down on the couch, exhausted and honestly still absolutely stunned.
“... This is-- is this really happening?” he finds himself asking, very quietly. Part of him fears this is all a dream, that he will wake up alone in his bed to find none of this has really transpired. The other two pause, look back down at him - and maybe Ernesto let something vulnerable show a bit too much, because suddenly they’re both leaning down with the clear intention of giving him a kiss. Exactly at the same time. 
With predictable results. 
Bonk.
“Ow!” Imelda yelps, wincing back.
“Agh! Oh God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--” Héctor frets. Imelda just slaps a hand over her mouth to stifle laughter, which just comes out of her nose with a honking sound. Ernesto just laughs, his own head unscathed but oddly light. Yes, this is happening. He couldn't have dreamed up something so stupid if he’d tried. 
It is happening, he thinks. We’re giving this a chance, he thinks. For the love of God don’t fuck it up, he tells himself, but says none of those things aloud. He just laughs until he has to catch his breath and it dies down in a snicker. That’s when Imelda leans down to kiss him briefly, this time without bumping her head against Héctor’s.
“I think that means we’re officially too tired to function,” she says. “Let’s go to bed.”
Ah. Right. It is three in the morning. Ernesto clears his throat and sits up. “Of course-- I’ll drop by after lunch, then, so we can go rehearse--”
Imelda pinches his earlobe. “Who said anything about you leaving?” she asks, an eyebrow raised. Ernesto’s words die in his throat. 
Right. Yes. This is happening.
Not that anything physical is going to happen just yet. They are all much too tired to do anything other than shuffling into the bedroom as quietly as they can - “whoever wakes her up has to calm her down”, Imelda threatens - and changing their night clothes - it is odd, finding one of his nightshirts still in their closet, washed and neatly folded - before they flop on the bed. 
At least, Ernesto and Héctor flop down on it. Imelda is decidedly more dignified, and leans down between them. Héctor pulls her close, and immediately holds out the other arm for Ernesto with a grin. Part of him is still wondering if he’s dreaming this, really, but when he slides closer, leaning against Imelda’s body with Héctor’s arm around him, again he knows he will not awaken alone after all. He smiles. 
“Your arms are freakishly long,” he mutters, very romantically, causing Héctor to snort. 
“Oh, thanks, amigo,” he mutters, but his hand keeps resting on Ernesto’s side. “Don’t hear you complain when I give the best hugs ever given.”
“That’s debatable, who decided it is you to give--”
“I said--” Imelda cuts him off, then yawns. Loudly, and without bothering to put up a hand against her mouth. “Sleep,” she mumbled, settling her head back down, forehead against Héctor’s chest and one hand resting on Ernesto’s forearm around her waist. It’s not clear whether it’s an order or just a declaration of what she’s about to do, but they do take it as an order. 
They are, after all, exhausted. There will be time to marvel over getting all of this back in the morning; for now, Ernesto leans down his head, closes his eyes, and sleeps basking in their warmth.
***
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***
They get to sleep a grand total of two hours and a half before they awaken to a chorus of wailing, barking, yapping and yowling. It’s hard to tell what started first - Ernesto apparently would put money on the wailing, though Imelda is ready to counter-bet a chihuahua yapped first  - but the fact stays, someone needs to go put an end to it before half the condo is at the door with murderous intentions.
Thankfully, Héctor is out of bed almost immediately. He’s still sleepy and misses the door the first time, hitting the wall before stumbling out with a murmured ‘I’m fine’ to go make sure no horrid monster has attacked Coco in her crib. In his haste he leaves the door open, and two chihuahuas as well as the cat rush in, with the small dogs yapping and trying without success to jump up on the bed. 
The other two as well as Dante clearly decided to stay behind and watch Héctor’s baby-soothing operation. Imelda stifles a yawn, bringing a hand up to her mouth. “Those dogs are not allowed on the bed,” she says the instant Ernesto moves to pick them up, just as Pepita jumps to settle down next to her head.
Ernesto scowls. “That’s favoritism,” he points out, and a little monster yaps as though to agree. One of them whines, clearly trying to move her into relenting. Imelda remains entirely unmoved. 
“Pepita is clean,” she replies, reaching over to scratch Pepita behind the ears. Her green eyes, fixed on Ernesto, narrow. Hard to tell whether it is in pleasure for the ear scratch or in displeasure for the man back on her owners’ bed, but if it’s the latter, she will have to get used to it.
Ernesto makes a face. “I can’t imagine it’s hygienic.”
“She grooms herself for hours on end--” 
“With her it tongue, that’s not cleaning a thing--”
“Well, it’s more than dogs do. I have only ever seen them use their dogs only ever use their tongues to lick--”
“They’re clean! I bathe them every week!“
Imelda blinks. In the next room over, Coco’s wails are quieting down. “... You do?” 
“With a very expensive dog shampoo, too. I advertised it on my Instagram account - I mean, their Instagram account. Didn’t you see?”
Ah. That. “I think I unfollowed both when we-- broke things off,” Imelda admits, causing Ernesto to frown. “It stung,” she adds quickly. “Seeing you.”
“Ah.” He clears his throat. “Well, I-- I haven’t been posting a lot, so you haven’t missed much. Should get back to it. I think the dogs have more followers than I do at this point.”
“Well, they are cute. I suppose,” Imelda concedes. Pepita jumps off the bed, clearly satisfied with her dose of scritches, and is followed outside by both chihuahuas. Imelda props herself up on her elbow. “You should try with shirtless photos,”she adds. It’s mostly meant as a joke, but Ernesto is clearly considering it. 
“I already posted plenty. And a couple where I was only wearing a--”
“I mean, more shirtless photos,” Imelda rectifies, very much aware of what photos he is referring to. Unlike Héctor, whose social media accounts are bereft of any sign of life aside for the occasional photo of a guitar, a music sheet, or Imelda going over his latest work, Ernesto is very much active and not precisely trying to disguise the fact his sexuality is ‘yes’.
“I guess I could take a trip to the beach for a few more shots, after we’re back from Santa Cecilia...” he muses, and Imelda is about to ask if they’re meant to join him for that trip to the beach when Héctor walks back in, a triumphant grin on his face and phone in hand.
“She’s sleeping! Look!” he whisper-exclaims, and gets right back in bed between them before he proceeds to show them thirty identical photos of Coco sleeping. “Isn’t she the most beautiful little girl?”
“She is,” Imelda agrees with a small grin, leaning her chin on Héctor’s shoulder. “Not that I’m biased or anything.”
Ernesto scoffs. “You absolutely are.”
“Not everyone is your mamá, Ernesto,” Héctor snickers, elbowing him. “Telling everyone within earshot how handsome you were going to be once you shed your baby fat.”
“Well she was right, I did turn out-- what! She never said that, pendejo!” He huffs, giving Héctor’s shoulder a shove that almost sends him flying off the bed. He laughs it off, flopping back down. 
“She did too, Ernestito! Heard with my own ears!”
“Mph. Your stupid elephant ears.”
Héctor’s expression turns coy. “Ah, what can I say, it’s my cross to bear. Much like a dick a couple of inches longer than yours…”
“It’s not, Héctor!”
“Is too! We checked with Imelda’s measuring tape, remember?”
“... You did what with my measuring tape now?”
“We had a disagreement to settle, mi amor.”
“And we found it’s-- maybe an inch longer! At most! And mine is thicker, too!”
“Oh no, it was longer than that. Need me to refresh your memory?”
“We can arrange that, if you let me catch another couple of hours of sleep,” Imelda mutters, causing the squabble to die down. There is some grumbling, a few more shoves, but soon enough they’re all settled to sleep again, basking in the warmth and enjoying blissful silence.
For another fifty minutes.
***
“Oh my God!”
“Gah!”
“Wha--??”
Héctor barely catches himself before he falls off the bed, flailing his arms and only narrowly missing Imelda’s face. He reaches to turn on the bedside lamp, and sits up to look over to the other side of the bed where Ernesto is sitting upright, hair tousled, a horrified expression on his face as though he just awakened from the worst nightmare a human mind can conceive. 
“Ernesto? What is it?” Imelda is asking, concern plain in her voice. She puts a hand on Ernesto’s forearm and he looks back at them, eyes wide and skin ashen. 
“Oh my God, ” he repeats. “My mother has seen my Instagram.”
Ah, Héctor thinks. 
“Ah,” he says, mind already wandering to some photos that are probably not meant for the eyes of one’s own mother. 
“Oh,” Imelda repeats, clearly thinking the same. 
They succeed in staying serious for almost five seconds before Héctor cracks, and Imelda is quick to follow. 
“Pffft…”
“Heh…”
“She has been looking up my account for ages-- she even mentioned it, I had forgotten-- what if my father-- stop laughing!” his voice comes out a whine, and it’s what entirely undoes them. “This is serious! Stop laughing! I’ll have to look her in the eye when we go back for Coco’s christening! I-- uuugh!” Ernesto lets himself drop back on the pillow with a groan, covering his face with an arm. “I hate you both.”
“No, you do not.” Héctor grins down at him and, while Ernesto scoffs, he fails to say otherwise. 
“If she brings it up, I will dig myself a grave and crawl in it.”
Imelda snickers, leaning across his chest. “If they’re that terrible I don’t think she’ll want to bring them up.”
He pulls his arm off his eyes, frowning a little. “Not that I’m naked in those photos, I’m not an idiot, but I--” he trails off with a sudden intake of breath when Imelda’s hand slips beneath his nightshirt, across his chest. Héctor sits back a moment, watching them - Imelda’s tousled hair and the strap of the nightgown falling off her shoulder, the way Ernesto arches a little at her touch. 
It’s not the most alluring sight he’s ever laid his eyes on, but it comes pretty close - and it hits him suddenly, the realization that they have this again. It leaves a lump in his throat and a dumb smile spreading on his face while he watches Imelda lean in and kiss Ernesto’s lips. When they break apart, Ernesto’s breathing is quicker and his eyes wide. 
Imelda grins, and tugs at his nightshirt. “Since we clearly are getting no more sleep this morning, would you mind getting this out of the way and let me take your mind off your mother going through embarrassing Instagram photos?”
Ernesto is sitting up and pulling the shirt up over his head before she’s even done speaking, but he doesn’t get to take it off - not before Héctor moves suddenly to pull them both in his arms, and squeeze tight. 
“Agh!”
“What the--”
“Really?”
“And here I was trying to be seductive,” Imelda mutters, face pressed against Héctor’s chest.
“It was a very good effort,” Ernesto informs her, head still tangled in the shirt. 
“Thanks.”
“Unfortunately, you married an idiot.”
“Oh, like you didn’t stick to the idiot long before I got him to put a ring on it.”
“What can I say, I felt bad for him.”
“... You guys realize I can hear you, right?”
“No doubt you can, with those ears,” Ernesto mutters, voice still muffled by the shirt wrapped around his head. “Can you let me go now?”
“Do I have to?”
“If you want us to get anything done before Coco needs breakfast, yes,” Imelda says against his chest. “Now, if you’d let go and fetch the lube and condoms…” she adds, and Héctor is off them and across the room so fast he almost topples on the floor. 
With most of his blood flow already getting redirected in his nether regions, Ernesto’s power of thought may not be at his highest. However, as he gets the shirt off his head and throws it off the side of the bed, he does pause a moment to think. Or try to. Something is definitely different. 
“Condoms? Not on the pill anymore?”
“Not yet. It already failed, anyway, and I really am not ready for another little miracle. At least if the condom breaks we’ll notice right away.” She reaches up to brush back his hair, and leans against him. She is warm against his bare chest, her lips so close to Ernesto’s own. Her nails rake lightly down the back of his neck, and he swallows. “But it shouldn’t happen, if you know how to put one on properly.”
He makes a face. “Well, of course I know how to put on a--” Ernesto begins, and then trails off. The amount of blood going straight to his cock is making it very hard to think about anything else, but he’s not yet so far gone he can’t catch the meaning of her words. He stares at Imelda, mouth hanging open.
There are...few things they did not at least experiment with throughout the relationship, but at no point did Ernesto get to be in her. Not with his cock, anyway. It simply never happened, Ernesto would think, but he knows deep down that was not it. It was a line Imelda did not want to cross, the one that marked the difference between her husband and the annoying-- acquaintance -- friend turned unlikely lover. Something Héctor could have while he could not. Until now.
He should try and play it cool, of course. Get cocky and say he’s glad she changed her mind there, she has no idea what she has missed out on. Instead, he sputters.
“What-- are you-- sure?”
Imelda’s expression turns coy, a finger running down his chest. “Well, if you’re afraid to disappoint…”
What!
“What!” Ernesto huffs, crossing his arms. “For your information, I never disappoint.”
“Sofía told me otherwise.”
“Sofía should mind her own-- wait a moment, since when are the two of you on gossiping terms?” he asks, just a hint of panic making it to his voice as he tries to run the numbers on the amount of ammunition Sofía may have to use against him. Unaware of his worry, or maybe all too aware of it and hiding it very well, Imelda shrugs. 
“She ordered a pair of shoes and we got talking.”
Talking about what, Ernesto wants to ask, but before he can open his mouth Héctor is back on the bed and kissing his shoulder, causing him to trail off and his breath to catch a moment.
“Here,” Héctor smiles against his skin, pressing a condom in his hand. “Put it to good use, we have no others left until we restock.”
Despite the rising heat, his own quickening breath and the by now unbearable friction of underwear on his erection, Ernesto raises an eyebrow. “That busy, even with the baby?”
“Not really. It’s that Dante found the box.”
“Ah.”
“Yes, ah. The vet judged me the entire time. Not that he said anything, but--”
“... Surely we can have this conversation another time?” Imelda intervenes, tapping her fingers against Ernesto’s chest in a motion that is… a little more annoyed than seductive now. Héctor blushes a little, and gives a sheepish grin. 
“Heh. Right,” he says, and without warning he suddenly pushes Ernesto forward, causing him to fall over on top of Imelda. He barely catches himself, hands braced against the mattress, and almost protests - but then he looks down to see Imelda leaning on her back beneath him, head between his arms and hair spread across the pillow. Her skin is flushed, and ah, the way she looks at him. If one could bottle that look to sell it, they’d make billions.
“I can’t help but feel I’m terribly overdressed for the occasion,” she tells him, and starts unbuttoning her nightgown. She barely makes it to half the buttons before Ernesto’s mouth comes down on hers, hard. She melts into the kiss in a way he cannot recall her ever doing before, fingers tangling in his hair and Christ - Christ - it is almost worth the long months without them, waking up in his own bed.
Ah, it’s good to be home.
“Ah--” Imelda sighs and throws back her head while Ernesto’s mouth trails down her throat, to her breasts. He only stops with a startled gasp against her nipple when a pair of familiar hands pull off his boxers, and a very familiar finger begins to probe as him, slick with lube. 
“Oh, don’t mind me back here,” Héctor calls out, and Ernesto can almost feel the grin in his voice when he slides the finger in, slowly but without hesitation, getting another gasp out of Ernesto he barely muffles against Imelda’s skin. “Want me to put on the condom for you while I’m at it? You look busy,” he adds. His other hand closes on Ernesto’s cock in a soft squeeze, and he almost cries out.
“Christ-- don’t do that!” he pants, suddenly terrified he’s going to just come like that, before anything can happen. Héctor chuckles, but does pull back the hand. The other hand pushes in another finger, sending more shivers up his back. God, he’s shaking - this is bliss, never enough and yet too much, how can he possibly hold himself together?
“That horny?” Héctor asks lightly, as though conversing over a glass of wine. Ernesto snarls.
“I’m about to fuck your wife, what do you think?”
“Ah, good point.”
Beneath him Imelda, who somehow managed to unbutton the rest of her nightgown and shrug it off, laughs and forces his head back by the hair to kiss his mouth. He doesn’t resist - how can he resist? - and only lets out a noise of surrender. The finger within him retreats and Héctor is leaning across his back, putting the condom on him with surprisingly delicate fingers. His own cock presses against Ernesto’s thigh, hard and hot and already slick with lube. When he pulls back, Ernesto lets out a whine. 
“Don’t bother with fingers,” he groans. “I can take it-- por favor--”
A kiss on the back of his neck, just as Imelda’s mouth presses on his throat. She has a leg on either side of Ernesto, and his cock brushes against the warm skin on the inside of her thigh. It is only a soft brush, but it’s almost unbearable on heated flesh. He lets out a shuddering breath, and glances down to meet her eyes. 
Are you sure?, he asks without words, and Imelda responds just as wordlessly, pulling his mouth down on hers and arching beneath him. Whatever shred of self-control Ernesto had left is annihilated and he kisses her back, frantic, before pushing his hips forward purely out of instinct and oh--
He slides in so easily and for a long, blissful moment, Ernesto forgets how to breathe or move or think. There is only that tight heat, Imelda’s scent in his nostrils and her breath against the side of his neck as she clenches around him - the soft moan filling his ears and the nails sinking in the skin of his shoulders.
And then Héctor is bearing down on him, mouth on the back of his neck and weight across his back, pushing into him unbearably slowly and all too fast at once. Everything is too much. Nothing is enough. He wants and needs and yearns and yet it’s everything he could possibly ask for, and more. 
As much as he enjoyed the strap-on and Héctor’s ass, this might just be the best variation of Ernesto sandwich he’s ever had.
“Pepita got your tongue?” Héctor chuckles against his ear, settling deep into him, resting his chin on his shoulder and glancing over at Imelda. “You good?” he breathes. Imelda lifts her head to kiss his lips. Her skin is flushed, eyes half-lidded. 
“Oh, yes,” she says, and kisses Ernesto’s neck again. “You are thicker, I’ll give you that,” she whispers, perfectly audible to Héctor, whose chuckling protests are not very believable. Her hand cups Ernesto’s cheek, her fingers calloused from working leather. “Don’t worry about a thing,” she murmurs, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone. “We’ll take good care of you.”
“Christ--” Ernesto pants, and manages to lift himself up on his elbows just enough to get some weight off her, and rest his forehead on hers. He’s so acutely aware of everything - the smoothness of her skin and Héctor’s chest hair against his back, her hand cupping his cheek and his chin on his shoulder, the heat around his cock and the cock in him. “I don’t know-- how long I can last,” he manages to admit. 
“Ah, don’t worry about that, amigo,” Héctor speaks, and tilts his hips, sending a jolt of pleasure up Ernesto’s spine and tearing a gasp out of him. “Wouldn’t be the first time. And we can do this whenever we wish…”
He says something else after that, or Imelda does, but none of their words makes it to Ernesto’s brain. They start moving in tandem, in him and around him and on him and beneath, and it is all that Ernesto can think of or feel. It is all he wants to feel right now. 
The moans that leave him are louder than advisable, with Coco sleeping just a couple of rooms over, but Imelda is quick to muffle any noise he makes with a kiss. Good move, that.
None of them is in the right state of mind to go soothe a cranky baby, after all.
***
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