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samodivaa · 5 months

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Soul-debasing Interrogation

Winter Soldier x Agent!Reader

Both his mentality and body can withstand anything—to err is...human—you are the human in this situation.

Warnings - smut, rough sex, choking

Words - 2900

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His face is a reflection of the past, of what is left of his life before, but his humanity has long forgotten where it belongs. You are now looking at something resembling a semi-death state, you can’t even comprehend the present condition of his soul, the mental pain or unbearably oppressive suffering he has been put through—a living creature, somewhat both broken and whole at the same time.

His eyelids slowly open, dark orbs focusing on the floor as he lets out a loud groan. He has the violent urge to move, but behind his back, both hands are bound with rope designed to eat away at the skin when he moves, even slightly. His ankles are as well bound to the legs of the chair—he makes an internal scoff at his current state.

“Here we go” you are already standing in between of his wide spread legs, grabbing his chin in a painful hold, waiting to speak when his glossy eyes are fully focused on yours “Try not to let this room scare you.”

A slumbering rage is stirring, rippling just beneath the surface. You are on the borderline, caught between the tides of fear and fury—him looking at you without blinking dismembers you mentally, but at the same time convinces him of the necessity to fight your fear.

It’s been days and nothing works, he seems unbreakable.

“Talk”

his jaw between your fingertips, grip still painfully tight, fingers turning white.

You are so sweet with your business-like tone—just imagine ripping out the tongue, so you could never speak again.

You study his features for a moment longer before letting go of his chin to slap his face hard, frowning in a sign of dissatisfaction.

“I said talk!“

„Ты так красива, что я забыл что хотел сказать тебе“ (You are so beautiful that I forgot what I wanted to tell you)

He finally says after a dramatic pause, his voice carrying its mocking undertones.

„You sick son of a bitch!“

You slap him again, he doesn’t show any reaction.

„White clothes, белый как снег?” (white as snow)

You put your hands on his knees and bent down, to whisper in his ear.

„I will fucking kill you”

A thin line closes around his throat and goes through, slowly cutting into his skin while cutting off oxygen. It is more painful than lethal, but more erotic than painful. After this, his head flies back, manicured fingers whirling around his hair, the little hairs on the back of his neck prickling. A groan escapes his dry lips, one that he doesn’t realize he’d been holding.

You drop the thin plastic line and place one nail under his chin, moving slowly, fascinated, nova-flare blue eyes blazing into your own.

„Will you talk now?“

he just sighs, shifting uncomfortably.

„Fuck…“

you whisper, a hint of exasperation and affront in your tone. You almost laugh, guilt twines with another failed attempt of getting any information out of him—you looks down at his trousers, then your eyes widen

„You are enjoying this”

In a full-fledged case of desire, Soldat is able to form both mental and physical representation of the thing he wants now and you don’t plan on initiating action to diminish his state.

Winter snorts at your words and looks at you with a smirk. He is obsessed with the situation, fascinated by you, infatuated with you. He hungers for your taste, your smell, the feel of your skin touching his. He is burning with desire, but keeps quiet about it—that’s his punishment he brings on himself, but there is no way he is begging his enemy—even in this state.

“Yes, I am” he says, with a venomous sneer “My eyes are up here, darling” he breathes.

That uncomfortable feeling is spreading over you as your eyes lift up to his lips, watching them part, taking deep breaths, the longing for him grows especially strong. You stand as though hesitating, suddenly the blood rushes to your head and sends a glow to your cheeks.

You are unable to endure his persistent stare, but you raise your downcast eyes and you finally smirk triumphantly at him as you struggle to breathe, suddenly straddling his thighs, loosening all of the ropes.

Winter watches with growing interest as you lean down, tucking a strand of his dark hair behind his ear.

Soldat’s eyes are the interpreter of the animal lust beneath, there is an unhealthy sallowness in the color of his orbits, he doesn’t even blink—his body is tense, a steel trap just waiting to be sprung open, but you don’t know that.

Your greedy lips are on his skin, devouring everything you can—licking, sucking, and kissing, not holding back your throaty moans. You drag your lips up his throat, along his jaw, back toward his mouth.

Eyes meet again.

The smirk on his face has disappeared and leaves an intensity behind in his eyes, narrowing into a glare. He is a silent fury who no torment could tame—but the finest fury is the most controlled, there is a murderous look in his eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

you cry, face white and distorted, with a wan smile.

He laughs spitefully “It's either kiss you or kill you, that's how I see it”

His soul is overflowing but with mingled feelings, no single sensation stands out distinctly, but there is a need in his heart and his body. He grabs you by the hips and gets up with an unexpected growl. Sexual perversions mix with lust and adrenaline as his mind sees in scattered images of varying vulgarity, dropping you slowly on the cold floor.

The moment your feet touch the ground, you want to scream, but you are cut off with a rough kiss on your lips. He grinds his pelvis into you, so you can feel his hard length against your lower belly, and grips your ass through the flimsy pants.

“I will fuck you” he croons his plans into your ear, and then places a cold palm around your neck “But you need to beg me”

Dominance. Control.

Winter has lost control over everything, even the places in his head… it's paralyzing…of course he has an obsession about female obedience—his human fingers start teasing the crotch of your panties.

You gasp into his mouth, and the opening of your lips let his tongue slide through.

Your arms come up around his neck and he pulls you against him, hands flatten against your back…and you are up on the tips of your toes, kissing him as fiercely as he is kissing you.

He pulls away from you briefly to say gruffly “Come on, I want to hear it” his soul, overflowing with rapture, yearns for your pleas, skin, touch “I know you want me” he whispers with implicit faith in his words.

A whirl of the most fantastic notions takes possession of his brain when your eyes meet again—he clings to you more tightly, knotting his hands in your hair, wordlessy begging, hands sliding down to your waist.

He raises the metal hand to his mouth, sucking on his fingers before the slightly damp digits are sliding into your panties and teasing your aroused folds and you exhale sharply, turning into a whining mewl as he circles your clit with ease.

“Say it”

he chuckles ruthlessly as the other hand bruises the skin on your waist, while his thumb circles down under your clit, closer to your entrance, fluids start to leak out. Your eyes meet again and something dangerous sparks, you suddenly feel your legs growing weak under you.

“Please-” you whisper, trembling with need and delight.

Winter almost stops when he hears you, his own breathing hitches a bit. He is watching you with an icy expression, voice falls to a whisper, as though he’s talking to himself

“Keep begging” a dark edge creeps into his tone.

“Please, don’t stop”

You shamelessly lift your leg up, placing it across his lower back and he swipes his thumb over your now throbbing clit before using two fingers to spread your lips apart. You never felt such stretching. It is cold and uncomfortable, but he forces his fingers inside as far as he can. He nibbles at your earlobe, loving the sharp intake of your breath, your skin breaks out into a pale sweat as he eases into a slow rhythm, curling his fingers inside, fracking, until your body twitches and walls clench around his fingers.

“Need me more” He pistons in and out of you as you clench around his fingers “Beg me more”

Every synapse in your brain short out—the gut-wrenching terror you feel, with a balance of sweet pleasure slide into mindlessness—

“Please, I need more, I need you-” you are cut off with an involuntary moan of rapturous pleasure, you are so close.

Those who constantly hunger for control outside of self are undoubtedly starved for peace inside of self—it doesn’t fucking matter, does it?

You’re powerless, weightless…utterly at his mercy and that’s what makes you cum—his gaze as he is staring at you, time stops. Those eyes are piercing yours, this is what makes you cum, he looks at you like he owns you.

The orgasm has gutted your vocal chords, and all you manage is a small gasp, he rasps something in your ear as he mouths against the skin of your neck, but you are too lost to hear it.

You are pushed against the wall, he tilts his head back and lowers his lips to yours and they get bitten to the point of bleeding. Winter feels a metallic taste on his tongue as he pulls back to admire his work, licking his lips, smiling disgustingly.

The sharp taste of blood only whetting his appetite. Winter wraps long slender fingers, around your throat, squeezing slightly and the feeling is too cold for it to be a human hand. His mouth is so close to your ear it makes your hair stand on end as he presses his hips against you, licking along the shell of your ear.

It is arousing, but dangerous—very dangerous.

Your other hand trails down his abdomen to his belt, and a finger dips in before you retrieve it—teasing him, the other hand still rubbing small circles on the tip. He shifts closer so his hardness presses against your hand unwillingly to your plans.

His right hand digs fingers into the flesh of your waist, the grip turning bruising and hard as before—the metal one now resting on the wall close to your head—as a warning, a reminder of the power he holds.

„Don’t you dare stop“ he whispers, the bite of his threat lost somewhere in his need for you to touch.

You need moments to unbuckle his pants, and Winter continues to trail your skin with kisses and whines when a hand slides into his boxers, the other holding closely to take the large cock in your small hands, covering it as much as you can.

You look down at his slick cock and nearly gag at the idea of just having it in your mouth, you want to be on his knees for him.

Drops of pre-cum drop to the floor.

Winter clenches his metal fist, trying to resist the urge to moan loudly, closing his lips he inhales through his nose, face contorting with openly weeping pleasure. He groans in reply, unable to fight your gentle touch, trying to fuck himself against the grip of your hands, too small to cover his whole length, throbbing with delight of that thought, orgasm begins to creep up on him.

You can’t help, but hang your jaw in bewilderment at the sight before—he is falling apart from the need to come, all he can do is tighten the grip against your waist—to urge you to please him.

He lets a choked moan escape his lips as you start to move your hands up and down, languidly stroking at his cock—his metal fingers whirling naturally around your neck, squeezing, not enough to break it, whines and whimpers escaping him as if he has no control over them any longer.

You observe every reaction and sound with wide lips and sultry eyes—heavy breathing from both of you as the pleasure hadn’t stopped yet—mesmerized yet almost confused as you’d never seen a killer be so needy for an orgasm, but you don’t dare comment.

“Don’t slow down”

He breaths out, eyebrows furrowing, his eyes shut, only grunts fill the cold air.

He opens his eyes, glossy and unfocused, and his face is deeply flushed—he is faced with your eyes stained with tears as you struggle to breathe—you nearly lose consciousness, how fragile your body is and how strong his is.

He chuckles at the sight—lust twisting his features, the grip around your neck finally loosens, the rush of blood and oxygen to the brain results in an explosion of dopamine, followed by erratic breathing.

He uses the moment to prise his tongue into your open mouth, forcing himself into you. You try to push and trash, but he holds you firm against the wall, his tongue sweeping over your lips, against your teeth, claiming you—leaking your tears.

Tasting the life he can easily take away from you.

You wiggles slightly, when he rips off your pants off, those piercing blue eyes trying to get a glimpse of your nakedness as his cock is still out, his fist tightening around the base, stroking slowly as his eyes drift south—dragging his metal finger slowly through your slit, the other hand once again moves on the waist in the same place—it hurts, bruises already forming from his tight hold.

It is obvious that Winter is not human, his body, his dick is too big to be human. You shiver at the sight of his length, hard and needy. His eyes are completely blue, with no pupil or white, two seas full of desire—he will drown you in them.

Soldat lifts your leg to gain a better angle to your hole. Your lips are slick and swollen, but the opening is stretching tight around his cock, trying to enter you completely, you cry out, your back arching at the pain. You freeze, blood running cold as he slaps you hard across the face.

The dark-haired man stares back with ill-concealed suspicion.

He is big, wide and fills you deliciously—every time you assume that he's fully sheathed, he pushes in a bit more and makes you moan loudly.

You buckle your hips as best you can despite his rough movements, meeting him thrust for thrust, desperate to feel him buried inside of you.

He is rough with you, not taking his time, not easing you into it.

“Please, slow down, it is too much-”

“Shut up and take it”

he trembles at the way you say beg, because of him, his mind was a blank canvas accosted by nothing—now, it is all about you, about pleasure.

And you tremble like a downy rabbit caught in the clutches of a wolf—he seizes you as boldly as if you are his prey. He thrust with force, you don’t even have time to adjust, he is too eager.

You moan both from pleasure and pain—It's so tight, squeezing the life out of his cock and he loves the idea of hurting you, it is too erotic not to think about it. He fucks you with lazy, slow thrusts, just enjoying the sensations of sex.

“You are taking me so good” he pants against your throat

he enjoys the suction feeling onto his cock, pummeling your cunt ruthlessly, hitting over the tender spot and you groan, loudly. Your throat feels raw from all the moans.

You exist there, whimpering, taking a fortifying breath, feeling the approach of your own orgasm, compressed by him as he ravages you, marks you.

Hard, long, deep trust that forces moans out of both of you.

You immediately bite your lip, panting, stopping yourself from moaning more, but your spine bends back and your body stretches taut, insides clenching and spamming around his cock—the sound that escapes your lips is so unearthly that it drives him to the edge.

He slams into you as his cock explodes in an endless amount of cum, overflowing out of you, dripping on the floor. He groans as he continues to slam into you, even as you feel overly sensitive as your own orgasm reaches its peak.

He leans down, far enough that the dark ends of his hair brushes feather-light against your face, his metal hand is around your throat, squeezing tightly—you lose consciousness, thinking that he is killing you, but you just pass out.

Sex is another practiced art to him. Each move is calculated. His brain is programmed to perform, his body seducing his prey with ease, noting each response of his target.

Fear and seduction, repulsion and attraction—that's how corruption is spread, turning squalor and nastiness into thrill, seduces the target into his own web—and leaves with the corpse on his hands.

What a devilish creature, master of the art of Death and Seduction, all its nuance, all its depth and complexity—but he spared your life?

#okay but hear me out #winter soldier smut #winter soldier fic #winter soldier x female reader #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier imagine #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier fanfiction

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angelshadowsinger · 10 months

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Prized Possession

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Azriel x f!reader 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.3k 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐲: fluff!! littlest hint of spice. like a little angst too bc they have a brief fight??? idk

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:

You lose something and Azriel gets it back for you.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞:

im too soft for this pls its too much. i almost made this a smut but i am wholesome and refuse to listen to the little devil on my shoulder. also this is unedited

･゜゜・．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ: ʙʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴇʀᴛɪꜰʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ 18 ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴏʀ. ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴏɴ.

･゜゜・．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

The ground shook as the air cleaved and two bodies fell to the floor from the mass of shadow above. A wave of cold river water surged out, slickening the marble tile with a slight greenish tinge.

You were retching up water on your hands and knees, drenched hair plastered to your face and your neck. A large slice of skin was exposed diagonally across your collar from where the siren had scratched you, a red ring around your wrist quickly turning purple from where it had grabbed you and dragged you under. That was all before Azriel had dove in from the sky, as graceful and lethal as a bullet with his wings tucked tight and limbs flush to his sides. In but a flash of blinding, brilliant blue did he slay the faerie, the life just starting to leave its gaze before firm hands had snatched you and you’d slipped away into the shadows.

Now the shadowsinger was coughing violently, all the while glaring at you as he braced his scarred hands on his knees, heaved over. His large, dark wings were dripping, a mist showering over you as he shook them free of moisture. You could feel his stony stare fixed on you as the puddle on the floor gradually grew, both your bodies dripping.

The moment you regained some semblance of control you were up on your feet and jabbing a finger into the male’s broad chest, a vicious growl emitting from your mouth and your eyes ablaze.

“What the hell is your problem?!”

He had the audacity to look shocked by your outrage, a dark brow scrunching and lips pulling back to snarl something back at you but you were quicker than him.

“I had it, Azriel, what the fuck?”

“The only thing you had was a watery grave,” he instantly barked back, now standing upright so he loomed over you as usual.

Somehow he looked even more devastating fully drenched, his clothes sticking to his lean frame, revealing his rippling muscles to you with every movement. His dark locks were pitch black and curling at the tips, heavy, shiny droplets collecting at the very ends. Hazel was lit aglow beneath that darkness, his gaze lit with some unknown wrath that you didn’t quite know how to place.

It was just plain unfair how good he looked after nearly drowning.

“Fuck you,” you scoffed, even if he was right. The ache in your lungs remained from your lack of breath, the creature having dragged you underwater so deep that your ears nearly popped with the pressure.

You turned away from him as your fingers ran over your chest, toward the spot that your necklace usually laid upon. But now there was only a shallow slice where the siren had swiped it from you, and the tattered edges of your top. Tears welled in your eyes at the barren expanse of skin you felt, but you refused to let them fall in front of the shadowsinger, refused to let your anger turn to sorrow before you were in the privacy of your own room.

“I think gratitude would be more appropriate,” Azriel spoke harshly, still glowering from his position behind you. “You know, for saving your life?”

You whirled around, fists clenched at your hips. “Would you just shut up!” your hiss morphed into a gasp as you trembled with the effort of curbing the sob that tried to escape.

The haughty look instantly dropped from Azriel’s face, his eyes flicking over every inch of you to assess you for any sign of physical damage. When all he came up with was the cut on your collar and the bruise around your wrist, his brow furrowed.

You were shaking, frustration peaking as you ran your fingers through your sopping hair, starting to pace before the male. “I had it, it was right there…” you muttered to yourself, quickly swiping away a rogue tear, praying he hadn’t seen it.

The shadowsinger remained rooted where he stood, watching your display of upset with quiet intensity. After you had paced for a minute, he finally asked, “You had… what?”

His voice was deep as it sliced the silence in the room. The chill of his chambers was now starting to leech into your bones, your arms crossing over your soaked midsection.

You pinched the spot between your brow and nose bridge, willing any nearly-boiling emotions to relax to a simmer, at least while you were still in front of your long-time crush. “Just forget about it…”

You weren’t looking at him so you didn’t see the way his plush lips pursed.

“Forget about what?” he pressed. His persistence forced an annoyed sigh from you, and you shot him a quick glare before continuing your pacing.

“It’s nothing,” you said, trying to shut him down again. You didn’t know why enlightening him of the true reason you were so upset seemed somehow embarrassing. Maybe it was because the male had never shown profound emotion to you and therefore cueing him in on your own felt… too intimate.

But Azriel wasn’t having it.

“If it’s really nothing—”

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Try me.”

You turned again, facing the male before you and gauging his stance. With one look you knew he was not dropping it. Any excuses you would attempt would be futile.

“It took… my necklace.”

You held your breath, waiting for him to explode, for him to belittle you and call you stupid and materialistic and any other insult he could produce. But all he did was stand there, and look at you.

Eventually, he said, “So you’re telling me that you nearly drowned… for some jewelry?”

Your eyes fell from his to the floor. You knew he wouldn’t understand.

“Risking your life for such a thing is extremely reckless and I don’t care to entertain it,” he stated, callous.

“It’s not just some jewelry!” you quipped, standing your ground. You didn’t care if it made you look weak, stupid. Yes, you thought he was cute and funny and usually kind, but this meant a lot to you and you were going to hold your own.

Azriel sighed, stepping closer to you. “I don’t think you understand the value of your life, or the importance of your existence in others’.”

You brushed off whatever that meant.

“It’s the only thing I have left from my mother,” you finally revealed, the words fading softer toward the end. You regretted it immediately, but you knew from the emotion that flashed in his eyes that he had heard it, and there was no taking it back now.

You had never mentioned her to him before, only the fact that she was dead and had been for a long time. And Azriel hadn’t pushed, so you hadn’t felt the desire to give any further detail.

But now he was looking at you with some sentiment you couldn’t quite place. It seemed like… maybe it was… empathy.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”

You were surprised by his immediate apology, hadn’t expected it. A somber smile graced your lips and you nodded, gaze drifting down to your feet again, turning to head back to your room to wallow in self-pity. “It’s okay, it’s just a necklace.”

Three steps into your retreat Azriel cleared his throat.

When you turned to look at him he was still standing there, but he now had a little smirk on his lips as he held out a clenched fist. He released his grip and out dropped a small, silver-laced heart pendant, the chain bouncing from its coil around his fingers.

“You mean this necklace?”

Your breath was genuinely sucked out from your lungs, your eyes tearing up as you blinked furiously, unsure if he was really holding your most prized possession.

“Az,” you blubbered, choked up and your lip quivering. “That’s…” Two slow steps and then you were flying into his arms, your limbs wrapping around his torso as you clung to him and laughed.

Azriel stumbled back just slightly, unprepared for your abrupt launch into his embrace. But he quickly recovered, his free arm wrapping around you so your bottom was secured by his elbow, his hand at your waist. He chuckled as you squeezed him, fingers reaching out to stroke the pendant that now lay in his open palm, to make sure it was really here and you hadn’t lost it. Your longtime crush had saved you and somehow managed to sneakily grab your necklace at the same time.

“Thank you,” you sniffed, tears welling up with relief, “thank you, thank you so much, thank you Az.” You whispered it over and over, tucking your face in against his neck, breathing in that soothing cool cedar scent you loved so much.

The shadowsinger was blushing with your proximity and your praise, near giddy from your outright gratefulness. He allowed himself to nuzzle your ear just once, not wanting to toe the line. “Of course, sweetheart… anything for you.”

You sat back so you could look at him, your beaming smile reaching your eyes. Azriel couldn’t help but grin back at you.

“I can’t believe you got it! You’re the best, Az!” you cheered, fingers now resting on his palm, pleased to find the necklace was indeed there and not lost at the bottom of the river.

The Illyrian was basically looking at you with heart-eyes now, not used to such overt flattery. You wiggled in his grasp, totally overjoyed. The display of your content was making his heart feel funny, his icy exterior completely melting for you.

“I’m so happy right now, I could just—”

You planted your mouth on his, hands coming to cup his strong jaw and hold his face flush to yours.

Azriel went stiff, his eyes widening as his grip on you became steel. But you were undeterred, pulling back to plant a few more swift, equally-firm kisses on his lips and then across his hot cheeks and nose.

When you pulled back, Azriel was gaping at you, lips now parted and his cheeks and the tips of his ears a soft, warm pink. Your smile faded as you took in his expression, settling into the knowledge that you’d just assaulted him with a barrage of kisses.

“Shit— I— I’m sorry Az,” you laughed, embarrassment creeping up the back of your neck. “I just— got a bit excited, I guess.”

You shifted so he would let you down but he refused to budge, arm taut around you. His wings were held high and tight behind him, still buffering as he tried to process what you had just done.

Your cheeks were becoming the same shade as his now, and you swallowed, uncomfortable under his intense stare. You weren’t accustomed to being able to look him head-on like this; he usually towered over you. He was so handsome up close, it made your heart drop into your stomach at the thought that you had just kissed him. About ten times, give or take.

It seemed like an eternity had passed before the shadowsinger finally blinked and closed his mouth, his eyes falling to linger on your lips. You felt aflame as you watched his tongue dart out, tasting the spot your lips had just claimed. “That’s alright,” he murmured, the hand that was holding the necklace coming to tuck your wet hair behind your ear, fingertips gliding down your jaw, leaving you wanting more. “Seems like a worthy reward for returning your most prized possession to you.”

Then he was setting you down, your ankles suddenly weak as your feet touched the ground.

“Allow me,” he said and gently placed his hand on your hip, turning you away from him.

You held your breath as the rough pads of his fingers coasted up your shoulder, the familiar weight of your mother’s pendant heavy against your rapidly-beating chest while he secured the clasp. You tried to calm yourself down but it wasn’t happening, your body leaning back against him on its own.

Azriel hissed lowly, firm hands grasping the back of your forearms and holding you out, far from where your back had grazed him. “Careful— you’re not the only one excited here.”

Your face burned and your core stirred at the same time.

“Sorry…” you whispered meekly.

He sighed a soft laugh, one hand rubbing your arm. “It’s alright. You go and run a hot bath, you’re drenched and I can hear your teeth rattling from here.”

You turned and smiled smally, grateful he was offering you an escape. You took extra care in keeping your eyes locked with his, no matter how bad you wanted to look down and see just how excited he was. “Thank you again, Az. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

And with that, you slipped from his chambers, the sound of your wet feet pattering down the hallway.

Azriel watched the spot where you had disappeared around his door, his shadows now surging out and dancing around him with glee, flickering across his mouth to get a taste of you. He didn’t care that he was still dripping wet as he flopped back onto his bed, his fingers coming to trace his lips. He recalled how your mouth felt on him, closing his eyes as he tried to preserve the feeling as best he could.

“No sweetheart,” he spoke to no one in particular, a confession only the stars in the sky would hear, “you’ve no idea how much you mean to me.”

･゜゜・．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

#azriel x reader #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar fanfiction #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel fanfic #acotar fluff #acotar fic #azriel fic #angelshadowsinger #my work

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zazter-den · 7 months

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Foul-Mouthed Frit | Stained Glass Circumstances Ch. 1

Series: Snippet #1, Snippet #2, Current

Synopsis- All stained glass begins as frit, but you're not as frit of the warrior in front of you as you probably should be.(Main Scene: Bakugou, Aftercare: Kirishima).

Warnings- Coerced NonCon, Oral Knotting, CumVom, Choking, Clothes Tearing, Degradation, Overstim, Org Denial, Slap(giving), Forced Bond, King/Consort Dynamic, Alt A/B/O, Yandere Bakugou.

Tags- Fantasy AU, BarbarianKing!Bakugou, Dragon!Kirishima, KingConsort!Reader, Black Haired Reader, Isekai, Creampie, Chin Grab, Excessive Seed, Aftercare.

Word Count- 7700, Chapter 1

Your heart thumped against your ribs, unease and curiosity battling it out, as you stood before the imposing blond warrior. On a good day, you couldn't help but feel out of place in the simple hand-me-down dress, a one of few mercies you received from the cold villagers when you arrived. Standing here in front of the decorated barbarian within the confines of the grandiose war tent, you felt dressed in little more than rags. Was this man here to finish the villager's sad attempt at uprising? Surely non-lethal injuries to a handful of soldiers, even if severe, didn't warrant a general's (or whoever's) presence.

Why am I here? I wasn't even involved.

The bodice of the scratchy dress felt nearly too tight to breathe, a physical pressure to match the growing weight of dread settling in your bones. It had been a month since your watery arrival to this world, but it hadn't taken long to miss your modern clothes, modern stressors, and the familiarity of home. A pang of longing shot through you like a static shock, but you pushed it aside, focusing on the intimidating figure ahead.

A shiver ran down your spine as you met the blond's piercing blood red gaze. His throne, made from the bones of fallen beasts long dead and a patterned patchwork of leather, only amplified the imposing aura surrounding him. With each passing moment, you couldn't help but feel like a small, insignificant creature in the presence of a predator.

"Pint-sized for a dragon, aren't ya?" the barbarian growled, his gruff voice boomed in the tense silence, tone heavy with amused disdain. A predatory smirk adorned his face, highlighting his intimidating yet undeniably attractive features. "You're quite the fuckin' anomaly."

Your eyes widened at his words, and for a moment you forgot your unease. You had become so used to the weight by this point that you honestly almost forgot. A hand instinctively went to touch the base of the draconic crystal horns that jutted back from your hairline, a bizzarre feature you had woken to on the lake shore, a side effect of the magic that had forced your entry to this unfamiliar world.

All of the lakeside villagers were human, but you had learned enough about this world's inhabitants to know that that you weren't a true dragon like the ones the citizens of this realm were familiar with—those with wings, a tail, and true dragon features. You are, at your core, still human, and really the horns were the only evidence to suggest otherwise. The asshole wasn't entirely wrong in calling you a mystery.

"Can tell you're no real dragon, some sorta bastard maybe" he remarked, rumbly voice smug. "Though I admit, those crystal horns of yours are intriguing 'nough. You'll pass as an addition to my collection."

You blinked once, twice, as you struggled for a mere second to process the words coming out of the pompous man's mouth before time seemed to resume again.

Should you have been scared? Probably.

But you weren't.

Your eyes narrowed to near slits with incredulity as you peered up at him. White hot anger filled your veins, fear of the undoubtedly dangerous strange warrior forgotten. Being a newcomer to the realm, you couldn't quite comprehend the gravity of the situation in standing before the man in front of you. Being an outsider to the village and their rebellion, also meant you weren't aware yet just how low cowards will sink to save their own skin.

" 'Collection'? " You repeated, scoffing loudly at his arrogance. The gall of him had your nerves shot and common sense short circuiting. All pretenses of appearing as a polite peasant were now firmly out the window, all bets were off. After a month of biting your tongue to rude villagers as you struggled to adjust to your new life, it felt amazing to spit exactly what you were thinking. "Who the fuck do you think you are, blondie?”

The fair haired barbarian's grin only widened at your boldness, relishing the rare occurance. It wasn't often someone had a big enough death wish to challenge him face to face.

"O, sweetheart, not just any 'blondie'," he sneered, weighing the weight his words had on you. "I'm yer fuckin' king." Enjoying the way shock washed over your face, anger clearly forgotten, overshadowed by the realization that you were standing before the most dangerous man in the kingdom.

King Bakugou's amusement was evident as he leaned forward in his seat, his eyes gleaming with sadistic satisfaction at your dumbstruck face. "D'ya wanna know why you're standin' in front of me?" he asked, his tone dripping with condescension. "They offered ya to me, little anomaly," the barbaric royal continued, the corners of his lips curling into a cruel smile. "A barter for their miserable lives after a pitiful 'scuse of a rebellion."

You were shocked, your eyes meeting his with furious disbelief. "So, people I barely know, GAVE me to you to spare themselves?" your words were laced with anger and a sense of betrayal, unable to comprehend the depths of their craven desperation. Sure, they were cold to strangers, but to sacrifice you for their own lives wasn't something you had thought was even a possibility. Had it really been so foolish to want to believe they were finally warming up to you?

The barbarian king's expression hardened as he replied, his voice laced with a sharp edge. "Ya should feel honored," he snapped, his blood red eyes narrowing. Rising from his intimidating throne of giant bone and beast hide, he closed the distance between them with a purposeful stride. The sound of his heavy boots thudded against the packed ground within the war tent until he loomed over you.

“I rarely take consorts,” King Bakugou's hand shot out and firmly grasped your chin, tilting your head up to meet his piercing gaze. His touch was harsh, a firm reminder of the physical might that Bakugou wielded when he so chose. Your heart pounding in your chest as his fingernails dug into your jawline. Leaning in close, his face mere inches away from yours, his voice dropped to a low, dangerous rumble as he continued speaking. “especially not runt freaks like you." The disdain in the cold blooded king's tone sent a chill down your spine.

Your heart dropped, The weight of the revelation pressed heavy against your chest. Mind racing with anger and betrayal as you grappled with the harsh reality of your situation. You had only been in this unfamiliar realm for barely a few weeks and now you stood before the formidable barbarian king, a man who held the power of life and death over countless warriors and civilians alike.

It didn't take years of education, or really much common sense, to know the dangerous consequences of defying a medieval tyrant. You knew you had to keep your anger in check, to try to bite your tongue and submit. At least for now.

Your fate was sealed the moment you stepped into that fucking tent, and survival was now officially the priority.

King Bakugou's sadistic enjoyment of the situation was plain as he ruthlessly analyzed your appearance, his gaze lingering on the translucent crystal horns with an almost dismissive glance. "Yer horns are clear, nothin' special," he remarked, his voice dripping with annoyance. It was clear that your unique crystalline features held little significance in his opinion. However, as his eyes roamed down your body, a more sinister gleam sparked within them.

"Body, on the other hand, is fine enough for a concubine," the blond added with a twisted smirk, his grip on your chin tightening slightly. The shift of the dress' neckline sent a shiver down your spine, baring your shoulder to his inspection. Your heart beat faster as King Bakugou's piercing eyes bore into you, his actions invasive and dehumanizing. Your throat constricted in response to the humiliating position you found yourself in. Even having to resist the urge to pull your chin away from his grasp, knowing that defiance would only lead to suffering of some variety.

His eyes swept over your neck and shoulder, searching for any sign of a scar, any indication that you already belonged to another. You kept your gaze to the side, unnerved by the intensity of his bloody stare, a shiver rippled down your spine as his touch almost seemed to burn your skin.

"Good," he declared, a twisted smile tugging at his lips as his hot breath ghosting over the exposed skin. "No claim."

King Bakugou wasted no time in closing the remaining distance. Swiftly leaning down, he sank his canines into the smooth flesh with a forceful bite. However, unlike true mating, the barbaric blond did not release the necessary venom that would solidify an actual bond between souls.

The lack of numbing venom caused a sharp hiss to escape your lips, a mix of agony and indignation flooding your system. You might not have been here long and you certainly were no expert, but you knew the basics of mating marks, this world's lifelong courtship. It was a deliberate move, a clear reinforcement that he had no intentions of making you his equal partner in this arrangement. After all, you were merely a plaything, to be toyed with. You should be thankful not to be bound to the barbarian's soul, and yet you couldn't ignore the obvious insult. Or the pain.

The unexpected stabbing pain of fang sinking into flesh triggered a reflexive response, causing you to shove and slap Bakugou's face in a desperate attempt to free yourself from his grasp. The crack of your palm connecting with his cheek seemed to echo in the massive war tent, leaving a bright red handprint in its wake and a streak of crimson trailing down the king's chin.

The barbarian's eyes glowed with fierce delight, his feral nature taking enjoyment in the defiance of his new concubine. Despite the stinging pain in his cheek and the split in the corner of his upper lip from the strike, a low chuckle escaped King Bakugou's lips. "You've got guts, shitty horns, I'll give ya that much" he growled, his voice laced with a dark amusement as his tongue flicked over his split lip.

If you thought your heart was racing before, it certainly paled to the drumbeat it was pounding now.

You had dared to challenge the king, to strike him in a moment of instinct. If the tyrant himself marched to this village over a few maimed soldiers, what exactly was your punishment going to be? A part of you regretted the impulsive action, aware that it would only fuel the bestial nature of the tyrant and likely add to your own suffering...But another part of you couldn't suppress the thrill that surged through you when you slapped the shit out of him. You might be trapped in this new situation but you refused to be completely meek, cowering at his feet.

You would submit. But only as much as you had to.

As King Bakugou's wicked chuckle echoed in the confines of the tent, he swiped away the droplets of blood that trickled down his split lip, relishing in the taste. "Spirited whore, ha?" he continued with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "You'll learn. 'Til then, I'm gonna enjoy breaking that attitude of yours."

Your breathing grew shallow as you just stared at the king, mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. You knew full well that true defiance would only bring more challenges, but still a small ember of resistance burned. You would not surrender completely, no matter the threat. And even bolstered with the courage of the dissociative haze that emotionally numbed you to the consequences of your actions, you still knew the danger was very real.

The red glistening imprint of his bite marked your delicate skin, a reminder of his sadistic tendencies and the cruel pleasure he derived from such acts. Your body trembled in frustration, mind grappling with the complex storm of emotions that threatened to take over reason. You may have to play the role forced on you but you would bide your time, until the opportunity presented itself.

And so began the balancing act.

"Your position, in this territory," the warrior king continued, his voice dripping with gruff superiority, "is t'be at my beck and call. You exist to serve my needs now, like any other fuckin' whore. An' rest assured, you will serve me well." With those words, he spun you around and pressed your abdomen hard against the tent's solid wood table, his hands gripping your hips possessively.

"Lemme show you your new role," Bakugou sneered, voice filled with dark promise. With one swift motion, he pulled the rough dress up to rest on your hips, baring your body to his gaze. His eyes hungrily took in your curves, his fingers ran up the exposed skin of your thighs and hips. Feeling his rough fingers trail over the sensitive areas of your thighs, you could feel yourself getting lost in the intensity of the touch.

The sound of fabric tearing filled the air as King Bakugou ripped apart the too-tight bodice, buttons popping off as your breasts spilled free from the barely reinforced fabric. His knees pressed painfully firm against the back of yours, effortlessly spreading your shaky legs apart. The motion trapped your hips against the edge of the table and exposed your pussy to to his gaze. Breath hitched as you felt the large tip of his hardened cock pressing against your slick entrance. Every inch of your body tensed. Judging from the thickness of his head alone, the lean warrior was larger than you expected him to be. Bakugou's girth tested your cunt's limits, forced to stretch wide. Initial entry was rough, inch by inch, as your pussy's tight walls struggled to accommodate the impressive length of the barbaric king's dick. The pleasurable ache making you fight to maintain composure.

Leaning forward on your forearms for support, your chest squished against the cold surface of the table. Fingernails dug into the smooth wood, your knuckles turning white with each of Bakugou's punishing thrusts. An unexpected surge of arousal coursed through your veins, and you decided to embrace the inevitable pleasure that his pace promised to bring.

Despite your feelings on the turn of events, your body responded to his coarse treatment, for the distracting orgasm and mind-numbing hormones that lay tantalizingly within reach. Determined to find some semblance of pleasure within your new prison, you forced yourself to shift your perspective. If you were going to be forced to be an object of desire, you may as well revel in the physical gratification it offered and claw back any benefit you could until you made your move.

As the table rocked against the packed dirt floor of the tent with each forceful thrust, the warrior royal couldn't resist mocking you. His voice was filled sadistic amusement. "Where'd all that fire go?" he taunted, amused by the contrast between your previous defiance and your current submissive state. "Don't tell me I already fucked it out of ya."

Your aching walls had struggled to accommodate his girth initially, causing you to tense up. You had to focus on consciously relaxing your body, allowing him to fuck you with more ease. The mixture of discomfort and increasing pleasure sent waves of heat coursing through your body, intensifying your arousal. At this point, you couldn't tell whether the fact that rough sex made your cunt leak like a faucet was a pro or a con.

You really couldn't help but snap back, voice loaded with a defiant edge. "You really like the sound of your own voice, huh, 'Your Highness'?" you quipped harshly, rolling your eyes knowing he would be unable to see, as you were swept up by the overwhelming pleasure of being fucked against the table.

Undeterred by your attempt at disrespect, Bakugou leaned forward over your bare back, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. The warrior king's voice dripped with amusement as he addressed your lack of fear. "You're really not scared of me, are ya?" the blond chuckled sharply, the feeling of his hot breath against your skin sending shivers down your spine. "Give it time," he sneered, his grip on your erect nipples tightening as he pinched and pulled. With a choked moan, your body arched instinctively in response, a symphony of conflicting sensations flooding your body.

Your black curls bounced with each punishing thrust, your body pressed against the dull edge of the table, the hard surface digging into your hips with a force that promised to leave bruised reminders of your afternoon in the days to come. The brutal intensity behind Bakugou's movements overwhelmed you, leaving you breathless and at his mercy.

Just when you thought you had found a rhythm, just when you though you were getting close to finally cumming- the royal bastard abruptly withdrew, his cock's sizeable head dragging along the walls of your dripping passage. A soft indignant gasp escaped your lips as the sudden emptiness left you yearning for release. Inner walls involuntarily clenched in a futile attempt to hold onto the fleeting pleasure, not that you would ever admit it out loud.

He took a moment to enjoy your needy frustration before thrusting back inside with renewed intensity. Each powerful movement caused your body to arch and quiver in response, teetering on the razor's edge between ecstasy and torment. Despite the lingering defiance in your heart, your cunt betrayed you, subconsciously craving the pleasure that Bakugou pounded into you. The aching bite at the junction of your neck felt hot, as your nipples squeezed between his vice-like fingers.

Your walls eagerly embraced the renewed pounding, tightening around him in a desperate attempt to hold onto the pleasure he provided. The overwhelming mixture of pain and pleasure sent shockwaves through your body, sparking sensations that threatened to consume entirely. As the table creaked under the combined weight, your gasps and moans filled the air, merging with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and groaning wood. The intensity of the king's pace, each thrust pushing you closer to cumming around the thick cock slamming in and out of your needy hole.

As your body neared the peak of pleasure, King Bakugou enjoyed the control he had over you, keeping that orgasm just out of reach. Each time you felt the pleasure building within you reach that breaking point, he would cruelly withdraw, denying you much needed relief. The frustration reached a boiling point,as your walls involuntarily clenched desperately around the thick ridge of his cockhead in a feeble attempt to keep it inside.

"Stop fucking teasing me!" you shot over your shoulder in irritation. The pleasure that coursed through your veins was distracting, clouding your mind and amplifying your need to cum. The denial of your orgasm left you on the edge in what felt like a perpetual state of yearning, body aching for the release that the feral blond held in his cruel grasp.

As King Bakugou repositioned himself, angling his thrusts to target your most sensitive spots, and the pleasurable torment of denial continued. The conflicting sensations pushed you further towards either heaven or hell. With how your legs trembled with both the overstimulation of your poor pussy's stretched walls and the unbearable need to cum, you weren't sure which you were closer to.

"Ha? Think ya forgot who serves who here," bloody eyes narrowing as he sneered, his arrogant tone held an unrestrained hunger. A wicked grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he drank in your frustration. He took great sadistic pleasure in this game. Knowing that, despite your protests, he had the power to bring you to the edge of cumming and keep. You. Trapped. There.

As the twisted dance between pleasure and denial continued, your body reacted eagerly to every movement, cunt walls fluttering near constantly in desperate need of fulfillment. Each time King Bakugou withdrew, your inner muscles clenched around the massive disappearing tip, another futile attempt to hold onto the pleasure that slipped through your grasp.

Wet, squelching sounds filled the air as he pounded back into your gushing pussy. The table beneath you was sticky with your juices, and his blood red gaze spotted a string of viscous slick suspended mid-air between the edge of the table and the packed dirt floor below.

With each turn of Bakugou's cruel cycle, a symphony of profanity spilled from your parted lips. Your body shook with the weight of unfulfilled lust, aching for the relief that seemed cruelly just out of reach. The rise and fall of your emotions danced in harmony with the motion of their bodies, humiliating frustration fueling your foul mouthed whimpers.

"'N fact," Bakugou laughed, gruff voice filled with sadistic glee, "I think that tongue o' yours has earned ya a punishment."

The barbarian's fingers curled around your quartz horns, his grip possessive and firm. As his grip tightened, you barely felt the dull ache spreading from the base of your horns through the haze of pleasure and overstimulation. The strain on your neck was evident, your head tilted back to reveal the garnet red bite print marring your exposed skin.

With a deliberate slowness, King Bakugou pulled back on your crystalline horns, his hold firmly guiding you until your upper body was no longer supported by the table's wooden surface. Weakened by the cruel cycle of ecstasy and denial imposed on you, your legs trembled with the effort to remain upright. The shift in position caused a head rush as you fought to remain standing upright. Turns out, you wouldn't need to fight that battle for long.

Using your horns as a guide, Bakugou yanked you down to kneel before him. Obediently following his command, your weakened knees sunk against the hard packed dirt beneath you. The shift in posture brought about a new level of submission, body now positioned at his feet, ready to fulfill the king's desires.

Bakugou's massive member hung heavy above you, his imposing figure towering over as he peered down with cruel superiority. "Ever get your mouth washed out with soap?" he sneered, a wicked grin stretching across his face.

With a snarky retort already forming on the tip of your tongue, you opened your mouth to deliver a biting response. However, in that moment of distraction, the massive cock head shoved past your lips, the sudden intrusion catching you off-guard. A muffled gag sound escaped your throat, eyes widening in surprise as King Bakugou claimed your mouth with little mercy. Musk filled your senses, the unexpected violation left you momentarily stunned. Your eyes watered as you struggled to accommodate his size, jaw stretched to its limits while King Bakugou hissed in pleasure at the feel of your hot tongue against his dick.

A gasp of surprise escaped your lips, muffled by Bakugou's large cock as he took advantage of the opening you unwittingly provided and began to thrust. The rough motion caused your tongue to press against the underside of the massive member, tasting both of you. The initial shock gave way to a mix of conflicting sensations - humiliation, arousal, and a begrudging surrender.

Your throat constricted around the tip of his dick as you fought against your body's instinctive gag reflex. The taste of your combined arousal filled your mouth, the combination of his precum and your own slick coating your tongue with every thrust. With each attempt, guided by the iron grip he held on your crystalline horns, you managed to swallow a little more of his length, throat stretching in an attempt to accommodate his girth. The barbaric king's control remained unyielding. He roughly guided your movements with an unwavering grip on your horns, forcing the pace at which you took him deeper. The sight of your struggle only made him grip you tighter, setting a faster pace.

You looked good, all fuckdrunk at his feet, submitting to his desires without question.

With each inch you took down your throat, your breathing became increasingly labored. Your eyes flitted upwards as much as possible, trying to meet his gaze as you continued to obey his every command. Teary eyes pleaded for mercy, yearning for the release that was just out of reach, as you continued to let King Bakugou's thrust into your throat. Bakugou locked gazes with you. It wasn't that he ignored your pitiful puppy eyes, all watery and unfocused, but it didn't certainly have the outcome you were begging for. His pace sped up, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he approached his climax.

Your eyes narrowed in confusion and as you felt a new ridge near the base of his cock begin to swell. It took you by surprise, lips forced to start to form an O-shape as you struggled to comprehend what was happening. You mumbled uselessly around the resulting barrier, only managing to press your tongue harder against the enlarged gland.

"Never seen an alpha before?" King Bakugou asked incredulously, the tone of his voice heavy with pompous amusement. "Ya really are a fuckin' freak, this'll be fun" he added, sadistically excited for the surprise in store for you.

The swelling knot created a tight seal against your teeth, effectively trapping your tongue in a frenzy of desperate, frantic movements. As his lust hit a peak, Bakugou looked down at you with dark satisfaction, the intensity of his gaze piercing into your very being. His words cut through the pounding of blood in your ears, his mean grin widening.

"Y're gonna want to breathe through your nose when ya can," he instructed as his hips started to stutter, cruel grin never faltering. "For the next ten minutes at least." He took great joy in the power he held over you, knowing full well the challenge he was about to present. His groans of pleasure were the only warning of his orgasm that you got besides the pulse of his knot, before waves of warm cum were cascading down your throat. You fought against the rising panic, you just needed to relax you told yourself. The taste of his seed flooded the back of your throat, your lips stretched around his swollen knot, as you braced yourself to endure the minutes to come.

Your breathing grew ragged as you tried to comply with the barbaric king's instruction, the pressure of his spurts down your throat sending your body into a state of sensory overload. Each surge of his cum filled the back of your mouth, forcing you to swallow to make room for more, so you wouldn't be overwhelmed. Nose pressed against the coarse, orange wires of his pubic hair, your breaths coming in short gasps as you struggled to find enough air.

Your sore throat bobbed with each gulp, lips sealed tightly around Bakugou's pulsing knot. You followed his instructions, taking quick breaths through flared nostrils whenever his spurts allowed a moment of respite. As you continued to swallow the seemingly never-ending load, your eyes watered and throat contracted around the royal's throbbing cock. Bakugou ran his thumb over your neck, tracing over the ridge his twitching cockhead made in your throat, causing you to choke and sputter, your reflexive gag wrapped around his dick.

The primal sounds of you gagging and swallowing seemed to fuel Bakugou, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he reveled in your struggle to regain control of your reflexes. He found the cruel game fun, knowing that you had to drink every single drop or be overwhelmed by the seed that filled your mouth. As the barbaric king rolled his hips, his cock milked one last time by your tight walls, the deflating knot slipped past your teeth with a squelching pop. You felt each inch slowly withdraw from your pained throat, eliciting a mix of both relief and a weird sense of emptiness. Your jaw ached from the strain, throat raw and bruised from the rough treatment. Cum dripped from your swollen lips, a shiny string dripping towards the ground between your knees.

You leaned back against the leg of the heavy table, body boneless and weak from the intense sex. Your chest heaved with each ragged breath, senses still reeling from the experience. The taste of his cum still lingered in your mouth, a reminder of of just how well you had performed your role.

His cruel grin twisted with satisfaction as he held your weak chin with his thumb and pointer finger, tilting your glassy gaze to meet his blood red eyes. The arrogance in his voice was evident as he spoke, his words laced with a mocking tone.

"You did well, little whore," King Bakugou taunted, "Maybe you'll last longer than the others." His words cut through you like a knife, a reminder of your place and his complete control over the situation.

And it only got worse.

Your stomach churned, the fullness from consuming the sheer volume of cum you did, mixed with the exhaustion and strain on your body. It was rapidly becoming too much to bear. The taste of his bitter seed lingered in your mouth, adding to the increasing waves of nausea that welled up. With shaky legs, you bolted towards the clean bucket next to the table, a hand clamped over your mouth. Face contorted in anguish as you reached it just in time, hunching over and emptying the viscous contents of your stomach into the wood container, a curtain of dark curls obscuring the action.

Wave after wave of white, thick cum splashed into the bucket. Your throat burned even more from the forceful expulsion, tears streaming down your face as you tried to catch your breath between stomach spasms and hiccups.

Meanwhile, Bakugou simply rolled his crimson eyes in annoyance. He watched with a scowl as you succumbed to the ill effects of being orally knotted for first time, his own sense of satisfaction completely unaffected. The king redressed himself in his leather breeches, his muscular chest displayed proudly. He made no move to help or console you, instead commenting with a disdainful tone

"Y're gonna have to get better at that," he sneered, his dissatisfaction with the newest addition to his collection clear as day. Without a backward glance, he exited the tent, leaving you seething with roiling resentment.

As you continued to glare daggers at his retreating back over the rim of the bucket, an unbreakable determination burned in your eyes. The interaction had further solidified your disdain for the barbarian king. One way or another, you swore to yourself, you were going to find a way to make that man miserable.

Bakugou made his way through the field, his strides thudding quickly across the field. His blood red eyes scanned the surroundings, taking in the lush greenery and wind rustling through the grass and leaves. In the distance, he spotted Captain Kirishima, his towering figure standing tall on a hill overlooking the lake.

The captain of the king's guard, tall and muscular, wore his signature dark grey uniform adorned with a crimson cloak denoting his station. His mane of long, vibrant red hair cascaded down his back, and his curved ruby horns glinted in the late afternoon light. Nearing a staggering seven feet, Kirishima towered over most humans and dragons alike. With a languid stretch of his wings and tail, he looked every bit the formidable dragon he was. Even though his stature was imposing- off the battlefield, there was a softness to his facial features, a warmth in his scarlet eyes that contradicted his formidable appearance.

Stretching his wings and tail with a contented yawn, Kirishima paused mid-spread as he noticed his long time friend approaching. His scarlet eyes widened in alarmed confusion as he caught sight of the split upper lip on the king's face.

"What happened to your lip?" Kirishima asked baffled, his tail and wings still unintentionally frozen extended as he waited.

Bakugou's grin widened, his blood-red eyes shining with a mischievous glint. He licked his split upper lip, savoring the sting that still lingered from your bold and unexpected slap. The memory of the defiance brought a twisted satisfaction to the king.

"Hah! The village's 'peace offering' turned out fiesty" he responded, a hint of admiration laced within his tone. The fact that you had the audacity to strike him, the mighty Murder King Bakugou, had caught the barbarian off guard at the time, but it definitely made you more interesting.

Kirishima's eyebrows furrowed in surprise, his tail flicking. "They attacked you?" he asked taken aback, “Are they still breathing?” The captain knew that the barbaric ruler was not one to tolerate defiance easily, let alone physical attempts to challenge his authority. Kirishima's mind flooded with questions, but he kept them to himself as he awaited further explanation from his commanding king.

Bakugou's smug grin widened even further, his blood red eyes sparkling with perverse delight. "Oh, they're alive," he responded, his voice dripping with a sadistic satisfaction, "Just paying for their little outburst, that's all."

The words hung in the air, the implication clear. The king's tone hinted at the punishment the new consort was enduring in the privacy of the tent.

Although he hadn't yet met the new concubine, Kirishima couldn't help but feel a pang of empathy towards them. Having grown up with the royal, he knew firsthand the levels of wrath Bakugou could reach. Despite these conflicting emotions, Kirishima's primary concern was ensuring the well-being of those in the king's care, even if it meant treading carefully in the sea of Bakugou's own volatile temper. It often fell to the loyal captain to keep the king from committing actions he would regret later. Well, less regret and more inconvenience him.

"'n fact, you're on babysitting duty while I deal with the village," Bakugou said, the murderous glint in his bloody eyes betraying his enjoyment of the situation. The king's command echoed in Kirishima's ears, causing his ruby scaled tail to stiffen and his broad shoulders to tense.

Kirishima let out a silent exhale, disappointment etched across his face as he processed the news. In truth, he had hoped that Bakugou would choose to spare the villagers and seek a peaceful resolution instead of resorting to violence. The captain believed that the actions of a few rebels should not warrant bloodshed on such a scale. After all, the villagers had made multiple peace offerings to appease the barbaric king, it felt like a breach of honor for Bakugou to now go back on that agreement.

However, Kirishima knew better than to openly challenge his friend's authority. He respected the position Bakugou held and understood the consequences of rebellion. Biting his tongue, Kirishima buried his disappointment and gave a casual bow to his commanding ruler, before making his way towards the tent on the hilltop.

Kirishima stepped into the large tent, his unfurled wings brushing against the side as he entered. His wings, magnificent and majestic, spanned wide, their vibrant ruby scales shimmering under the soft glow of the tent's filtered light. The ruby scales continued down the length of his long, sinuous tail, adding a touch of elegance to his formidable presence.

As his fiery ruby eyes landed on you, Kirishima's first thought was one of surprise. The person who had struck King Bakugou looked a lot less imposing than he had anticipated. You, unlike the powerful and intimidating dragons Kirishima was used to, stood before him at a mere average human stature. If that. The only discernible dragon feature you possessed were the crystal dragon horns that adorned your head, gleaming subtly in the low lit tent. His scaled tail swayed slightly, displaying a mix of curiosity and caution.

Your eyes widened as they met Kirishima's for the first time, and your body tensed instinctively. You had been thoroughly exhausted, both physically and emotionally, by your round with Bakugou. Your throat was raw and voice gone, leaving you unable to deliver the defiant expletives you desperately wanted to snarl at the imposing dragon that had just entered the tent. But your voice failed you, leaving you with only one avenue of expression.

With a fierce hiss, you expelled every ounce of ferocity you had left buried within. Your body tensed, lips curling back in a display of bare teeth. The hiss reverberated within the confines of the tent, a desperate attempt to communicate defiance to Kirishima, to convey that you would not be dominated or humiliated any further today.

The captain took a step back, scarlet eyes swept over your form, they couldn't help but notice the torn remnants of your bodice on the floor and the ripped dress clinging to your body. The rips and tears spoke volumes of the intense encounter you had undergone at the hands of King Bakugou. His gaze then landed on the mark that marred the delicate skin of your neck—an unmistakable claim.

Kirishima's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his mind reeling with the implications.

As a dragon, Kirishima understood the significance of such a bite - it bound two souls together, sealing their connection as life partners in a way that couldn't be severed. When done correctly.

Marking a consort with a claim without fully mating them was not unheard of, but it was generally met with extreme judgment. Claims in terms of mating were typically reserved for life partners, a commitment that extended beyond physical desire. Nobles, known for their fickle nature and ever-shifting loyalties, often chose to mark their consorts with more temporary symbols, such as collars.

The ornate collars allowed the royals to easily discard their concubines when they grew bored. The nobility were notorious for their fickleness and often left their consorts behind as they moved on to fresh pursuits. By marking a consort with a bite with no intention of making you an equal, Bakugou had not only defied what little merciful convention held by the upper class but also inflicted a cruel fate upon you in Kirishima's eyes. The mark would make it near impossible for you to find a true mate, forever branded as the king's property.

Kirishima couldn't help but feel a stab of disappointment towards his lifelong friend. While he knew the barbarian ruler's tendencies on the battlefield, he hadn't thought Bakugou would exhibit such cruelty towards a consort, knowing you would likely be discarded at some point. Kirishima's own sense of honor and loyalty clashed with the conflicting emotions he felt, itching at the back of his mind as he observed the vulnerable state you found yourself in.

The captain's gaze lingered on your throat, noticing the subtle signs of strain and discomfort. The realization for the hissing aggression struck Kirishima like a bolt of lightning. You had lost your voice, and it wasn't due to natural causes or illness. No, it became clear to him that it was likely a result of your first tryst with King Bakugou, an experience that he could only imagine had been rough and brutal, throat rubbed raw from the repetitive acts demanded of you.

Feeling a surge of empathy, Captain Kirishima decided to ease the intimidating aura he unintentionally projected. He understood that his imposing stature must be overwhelming to you, given the turn of events. He folded his wings against his back, their vibrant red membranes pressed tightly together, confining their expansive span. The act served to minimize his physical presence, making him appear less threatening. He slouched slightly, adopting a more relaxed stance, and kept his hands visible, showing that he meant no harm. It was a deliberate display of non-aggression, aimed at putting you at ease, or at least as much at ease as one could be in such circumstances.

The red dragon's eyes softened as he noticed the weary look on your face. He could see the exhaustion etched into every line, body still trembling from the recent ordeals you had endured. Determined to offer some solace in this tumultuous situation, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

With slow deliberate steps, Kirishima moved away from you and towards a pile of chests near the entrance of the war tent. These chests contained spoils from the village, items meant to appease the king after their attack on his soldiers. Kirishima knew that among them, there was a chest filled with garments. Opening one of the chests, he carefully sifted through the contents until he found a fine yet simple dress that roughly matched your size.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Kirishima's lips as he gently tossed the dress onto the table, positioning it between the tow of you. Its delicate fabric fluttering in the air before settling down over the wood. It was a small gesture, but meant to convey that he harbored no ill intentions.

It was a silent message that you deserved respect and dignity, even in this tumultuous situation.

Sensing that you needed some space to collect yourself and change, Kirishima took a much smaller chest from the pile. He left the tent, giving you room to breathe and reckon with the pent-up emotions that surely swirled like storm clouds.

As the cool mountain breeze blew through his hair, Kirishima found a suitable spot a few paces from the tent, overlooking the serene lake in the warm hues of late afternoon light. With deftness and precision, he constructed a small firepit, arranging the rocks in a circle. As the dragon exhaled softly, a gentle stream of fire escaped his lips, the light glinting off his curved ruby horns. The flickering flames danced and crackled, casting a comforting glow over the hilltop.

As the captain patiently waited for the water to heat, he glanced back towards the war tent, briefly catching sparkle of your horns through the opening. His heart went out to you. Though he understood the gravity of Bakugou's actions, Kirishima couldn't help but feel a creeping sense of responsibility in making sure you felt as comfortable as possible, despite the circumstances.

Just as the water in the kettle neared boiling, Kirishima activated his innate talent. His hands hardened, gaining an impressive durability that allowed him to handle the intense heat without harm. With a swift motion, he reached for the kettle, hands possessing the resilience of a dragon's scales. His grip was confident and steady as he effortlessly removed the kettle from the fire, preventing the water from boiling. He gently tossed the healing tea leaves into the kettle, watching as they swirled and danced in the near-boiling water. The soothing aroma of the tea began to waft through the air, carrying with it hints of delicate flowers and calming herbs.

With a careful hand, Kirishima reached into the tea chest, procuring a magnificent stained glass teacup that shimmered in hues of red and amber. Draconic stained glass was a rarity, prized for its strength and ethereal beauty. The light of the late sun cascaded through the vibrant colors, casting an enchanting glow on his hands.

Unwrapping the glass bottles, the captain uncorked the crystallized honey and yuzu peel. He slowly poured a generous amount of honey into the teacup, its golden texture illuminated by the sunlight. Next, he added a pinch of the fragrant dried yuzu peel, allowing its subtly sweet and citrusy scent to infuse the air. These ingredients held healing properties, meant to soothe and restore vitality to worn souls. The captain took extra care, ensuring that the precise balance of ingredients was met, creating a concoction that he hoped would bring some measure of comfort to your weary spirit.

With a quiet exhale, Kirishima patiently awaited the completion of the tea's steeping process. He hoped that the healing properties of the tea, combined with the warmth and tranquility of their surroundings, would provide a much-needed respite for your body and mind. In this moment of quiet reflection, he couldn't help but hope that this small act of kindness would bring some solace amidst the chaos that was now your new life in royal confines.

As the tantalizing fragrance of the healing tea filled the air, it didn't take long for you to emerge from the confines of the tent, eyes cautiously studying Kirishima's every move. Clad in the simple yet elegant dress he had provided you, features betraying a mix of cautious curiosity, before you fully exited the tent.

Scarlet eyes met yours as he poured the infused brew into the stained-glass teacup, the colors of the evening sun casting a mesmerizing glow through its amber and red hues. With a delicate touch, he extended the teacup towards you, his gentle gesture offering a sense of peace and comfort amongst the chaos.

Your gaze flickered between the beautiful teacup in Kirishima's hands and his eyes, wariness slowly giving way to a glimmer of trust. You lowered yourself onto the cushion placed by the fire, its warmth seeping through the fabric and into your tired body. Settling in, you positioned yourself to face the serene vista of the lake, where the calm waters mirrored the vibrant shades of the setting sun.

Kirishima, mindful of your nervous vigilance, kept his movements steady and reassuring. His hand extended further, confidently offering you the teacup of healing brew. The crimson colored light filtering through the stained glass seemed to dance and flicker as if carrying with it a promise of respite.

A soft smile tugged at Kirishima's lips as he spoke, his voice gentle yet filled with earnest sincerity. "Can we start over? I'm Captain Kirishima." In that simple statement, he hoped to convey that he was not just a guard but someone who, at their heart, genuinely cared. Someone who would listen and support you, should you choose to share your burdens.

He waited patiently, the teacup held delicately between the two of you, awaiting your response. In this moment, amidst the tranquil beauty of the lake and the tender offering of healing tea, he hoped that they could find a glimmer of solace and a fresh beginning.

IRL Safety Disclaimer: Never Pull A Partner Up By Their Hair Off of a Surface. You Will Injure Someone.

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bluntsandcigs · 4 days

Text

ɢᴏᴊᴏ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

“𝐈’𝐦 breaking up with you”

Your boyfriend, for better or worse, was the love of your life and it was a fact that you sometimes lamented in moments when he was being especially insufferable. While certainly not without his good qualities, he had a list a mile long full of traits which often made you want to lob a pillow at his head, regardless of his Infinity. His tendency to be the world’s greatest troll was very high on the aforementioned list and he wielded his devious side with all the wicked glee of a well-seasoned trickster. You supposed being his girlfriend and thus someone he was exceedingly fond of meant you probably got off easy where his pranks were concerned. You’d met the likes of Utahime and Kento on occasion and both seemed perpetually prepared to kill him with lethal stares alone. You, on the other hand, despite often putting up with his nonsense were lucky enough to also be on the receiving side of his best side. With you he was thoughtful, funny, incredibly charming, and intensely dedicated to ensuring that you were constantly having the best sex of your life.

You loved him deeply and dearly.

But, you were also debating throwing him right out of your apartment in what little he was wearing.

Despite your claim that you were leaving him, Gojo’s smug grin remained steadfast and he made not even the slightest attempt to waylay your obvious annoyance with some of the sweeter playfulness you adored. He appeared to be delighted by the deadpanned irritation in your voice and plastered on your unsmiling face, his objective to vex you succeeding spectacularly. Glancing to your left, towards the small shelf of decorative knickknacks you kept there, you debated grabbing the first plush toy you could get your hands on just to chuck it right at him. Unfortunately, Gojo knew you too well and he tutted in response to your obvious considerations.

“Now, now, you can’t possibly be mad at me, can you? I’m only giving you what you said you wanted.”

“This is so not what I meant.”

Gojo, despite coming off as regularly lackadaisical missed very little and he’d been damn well privy to every single instance over the past year where you’d mused over your desire for a cat. Your love of animals, particularly those prone to purring and pouncing, was no big secret. The countless cat videos you’d cooed over and feline plush dolls that decorated your bedroom broadcast your love of the whiskered creatures just as clearly as your words did. He knew, damn well, that you’d been growing more and more keen on the idea of adopting a sweet little kitty of your very own. When he’d responded to your last remark towards future pet ownership with a grin and a none-too-covert comment that you might soon find yourself with a surprise over the next few days, you’d been giddy with anticipation. When he’d go through with it and what sort of cat he’d adopt in ‘secret’ had kept you on gleeful pins and needles for close to a week.

Now, as you stared at your almost naked boyfriend where he’d perched himself on your bed, you wished you hadn’t dedicated a single iota towards being excited.

“You said you wanted a cat, didn’t you? I thought this was what you meant.”

Glowering and well aware that he was feigning obvious ignorance, the fucking troll, you watched as Gojo adjusted his sultry pose for one that had his ass arching up for a better glimpse of the cat tail attached to the back of his underwear. It and the ears he’d fastened to his head with a well-placed headband were as black as you’d suddenly decided his soul was.

“Come on, babe. I had to give my girl the best of the best and you can’t deny that there’s no cuter kitty out there than yours truly.”

His grin stretched wider still and he made a sound deceptively close to an actual purr, the noise nearer to seduction than adoring affection. You were resolved to be unmoved by what you knew was an attempt to turn you on, turning towards the doorway which would lead you back into the living room.

“If I leave now I can probably get to an animal shelter before it closes.”

“Aw, you’re really leaving?”

He sounded genuinely pouty and disappointed and you were resolute about not caring in the slightest.

“Would I have been more convincing if I’d gone the tail butt plug route instead?”

The comment almost stalled you, because damn if that particular idea didn’t boast some level of promise, but you refused to be moved. At least not so easily. You took a step and stilled before you could take another, Gojo at your back so lightning fast you hadn’t even registered his movements until you felt the rush of air which signified them. He wrapped his arms solidly around your waist, nuzzling his face against the curve of your neck with an almost comical mimic of a cat’s meow. It would’ve maybe be a little cute if it wasn’t so infuriating, but it was definitely amusing and you bit back a tiny chortle of laughter with all the willpower you could muster. If he was going to be a goddamn menace then you weren’t about to make things easy for him.

“You don’t think I make a good kitty?”

“No. You make a good clown, though. Truly world-class on that front.”

“Ouch! I can’t believe my mistress is so cruel! Especially when I was so ready to give her all the cuddles!”

Anyone else probably would’ve been embarrassed to act so cutesy and forlorn, playing up the role of disappointed house pet, but shame was one trait Gojo had never gotten any real hang of. The man had enough cockiness to walk totally starkers through Roppongi without so much of a chance of blushing, so acting ridiculous behind closed doors was well within his comfort wheelhouse. Sometimes you wished you had even a drop of that kind of unflappable confidence.

“I doubt your type of cuddles is the kind I was hoping for, Satoru,” you grumbled, waiting patiently for him to just let the damn joke die already.

“Oh?”

You knew he was grinning even with the lack of seeing it, the wide spread of annoyingly kissable lips sure to be revealing those perfectly pearly whites of his. You felt teeth grazing your neck, a subtle scrap that settled into the tiniest nip where your pulse throbbed with a quiet drumming beneath your skin. His long fingers stretched and spread across your hips, pinkie fingers curling around the front belt loops of your jeans.

“What if I was gonna give you whatever cuddles you wanted? However you wanted them? What about that then, hmmm? Would that make me a good kitty? Would it make you wanna keep me?”

Gojo’s hips shimmied from side to side and you weren’t entirely positive if it was his attempt at making his tail sway or a not even remotely subtle effort to grind his cock against your ass. Knowing him, it had to be a little bit of both and feeling how hard he already was, as if he’d been eagerly anticipating the satisfaction of his cat boy fantasies, made it harder to deny him out of spite. You were annoyed for sure and never very keen to give him precisely what he wanted when he was being a pain in the ass, but Gojo was also stupidly good at making you cum. His talents in the bedroom were almost ludicrous in their effectiveness and if he was exceptionally game to give you precisely what you wanted, at least in a sexual respect, it wasn’t exactly easy to refute the possibilities.

He rumbled out another mockery of a purr and dragged his tongue across the sensitive skin of your neck, wet and smooth instead of at all scratchy like a real cat’s would have been. Perfect for making you feel good and curse your weak resolve, but you already felt wet just from thinking about how satisfied you’d be in the next few minutes if you relented.

“If you let me, I can eat your pussy so good you probably won’t even be mad at me anymore.”

“Wouldn’t eating my pussy technically count as some kind of cannibalism right now?” you asked him ruefully and you were rewarded with a delighted snicker in response, Gojo’s arms hugging you tighter.

“Oh, this kitty right here is keeping you. All mine. Can’t get rid of me no matter how bad you try.”

It gave you butterflies every time he said things like that, made little comments to suggest that for all his flightiness and reputation for being a player, he wanted to try for something more permanent with you. He may have been playing and playful, his default setting most days it seemed, but the words made your heart soar even so. The annoyance you felt from discovering his devious little prank hadn’t exactly fled in the wake of your affection, but it was tempered by it to some extent. If you were giving in to his hopes, you were giving in to them exactly the way you wanted and you weren’t about to let your obnoxious cat boy get away with his mischief entirely.

You shifted and turned, moving around in the cradle of Gojo’s arms to face him, mirroring the wicked glee on his face as your hand sandwiched itself in the space between your body and his. His brows shot up high, the shades he wore shifting down the slope of his nose just enough to give you a hint of the mesmerizing blue behind them. However, he looked quite pleased by the feel of your fingers squeezing around his cock. He was warm, even through the material of his underwear, and it was all too easy to map out the exact shape of his length with the cloth barrier in your way. You tried not to shiver just from feeling him, well-versed in how thick and long he was, the fullness that came with his erection sliding home inside your body an aching feeling you welcomed once you’d gotten used to it. That sensation was as dear to you as how honest Gojo’s reactions always were, nothing of his pleasure ever restrained or held back and it was as true in that moment as it had been since your first time together. Gojo’s smile grew wider and he let out a truly arousing groan as your palm rubbed against his shaft, fingers promising more.

“That can’t be all. Come on now,” you cooed, stealing a kiss from his lips and tasting the strawberry flavor of his chapstick. “Be a good kitty and let me know how good this feels.”

The band of his underwear stretched against the back of your wrist once you pressed your hand inside, fingers wrapped in a tight fist just beneath the tip of his cock, already leaking for you. It pleased you to feel his precum there, provided the slightest bit of slickness to help you roll your hand down his erection all the way to the base and lower, cupping his sac with a gentle squeeze that had Satoru’s hips bucking. The pressure made his dick weep further, smoothing out your strokes and providing you with what you needed to pump your hand over him in slippery glides he so clearly loved. Satoru mumbled your name, the smugness of his countenance wavering before the mounting pleasure. Those beautiful blue eyes of his fluttered closed, snowy lashes close to his cheeks, and seeing his mouth drop open for every sound of sensual delight was an utter joy. You loved it when you had him right where you wanted him, when just the feel of your hands coming together to work his shaft could make his thighs tremble. Your boyfriend may have been an incorrigible mischief maker who did so love to turn you into a soaking mess, but he could sometimes be so desperate for your touch.

Eager and greedy and all for you.

You needed more.

“Noooo!”

He outright whined when your hands left his dick, the length of it visibly throbbing with his yearning. His neediness was adorable with those cute little cat ears on his head and inwardly you considered how much better he’d look with the additional of a little bell collar, wondering if he might be into that in the future. Knowing Satoru and his never-failing interest in all sorts of sexual experimentation, he likely would’ve been thrilled by the idea.

“Don’t pout.”

You tried to kiss the look off his face, but it remained, Satoru steadfast and resolute to look as adorably put off as he could. When your fingers moved from his body to your own, tugging the shirt off your body with a notable urgency, his expression swiftly morphed into one that was greatly intrigued. Dissatisfaction was replaced with delight as his eyes raked so longingly over your half-naked frame, tongue working across his lips like someone had waved his favorite snack before his face the second your bra hit the floor. Teeth clamped down lightly on soft lips, Satoru shimmying his hips to sway his little tail as if to suggest that the sight of you briefly rubbing your nipples might be enough to make him pounce.

Like you were a mouse, his chosen prey.

You were no such thing and you lightly pushed at his chest to make him back away, give you room to lower your body down onto your knees. You pinched your nipples, peaks tight and providing the softest zing of pleasure through your breasts, smirking as you angled your chest towards him. His eyes widened and his smile was one of unadulterated excitement, a shaky exhale marking his happiness as his cock settled against the valley between your breasts. His hips moved, hands bracing against the wall behind you so he could thrust his slick erection through the soft crevice you’d provided him, his gaze enraptured by the view. He was long, just long enough that you could bend your head to tease the tip of his dick each time it drifted upwards, a thick weight nestled between the softness of your tits. The taste of him was warm and a little salty on your tongue, but you always found yourself wanting more, relishing each chance to caress the smooth head of his cock with a hurried swirl of your tongue.

“Feels so fucking good. Your pretty tits and that sweet little tongue on my cock. Can never get enough of this.”

“Wanna keep going then, Satoru? Wanna keep going until you’ve got my chest all covered in your cum?”

His hips shuddered, briefly angling towards a few faster thrusts through the warm cradle of your breasts. Gojo’s head shook, shades going further askew upon his face until he finally tossed them aside, unconcerned with anything other than his pleasure to care if they ended up broken on the floor. It was you that he treated with more care, freeing himself from the building ecstasy you’d been giving him to lift you into his arms, transporting you to the cushioned softness of your bed in seconds. He moved so fast you felt temporarily dizzy, but not so terribly that you missed how desperately he removed your jeans and panties, stripping you in a panting frenzy of need. It didn’t feel as if anything had been torn, no sounds of ripped denim stitching reaching your ears, but you knew that he could’ve destroyed your remaining clothing with ease had he wanted to. Gojo rather liked proving how easily he could rend fabric of all types from your frame and he’d been a fan of making buttons fly until you’d start grousing about having to mend or buy new clothes whenever the two of you felt horny. His restraint in that respect was surprising given how eager he happened to be. Gojo didn’t often put so swift a stop to foreplay, especially not whenever you had his cock nestled so pretty between your tits. He must have been waiting for you to come home for even longer than you’d anticipated for him to be so excessively keyed up.

“Impatient, are we, kitty?” you asked him, trying with your all not to sound breathless in your own state of anticipatory need.

“Say that like your cunt isn’t all juicy and ready for me.”

A gaze painted even clearer than sky blue roved with heated, covetous delight over the glistening wet of your pussy, lips pulled towards smug as he held your legs aloft, apart. Denying that you were exceedingly turned on would’ve been a bold-faced lie with the proof that you were lusting hard for your boyfriend right there before his eyes. It couldn’t stop you shrugging your shoulders, lifting your arms up above your head to present a picture of relaxation as well as readiness, fixing him with a smirk that beamed pride. Gojo’s plan could have been to seduce you all along, at least after he’d finished being a Special Grade pest yet he’d been just as seduced himself. He may have had all his ideas lined up like dominoes ready to be knocked down in a precise order, but his cock was flushed and hard where it came to rest against your folds. The tip still leaked with the evidence of how overcome he was by his need to have you, drips of heated precum dotting the top of your pubic mound with just one throb from his erection. Whatever Gojo’s exact intentions must have been had flown entirely out the window and he was clearly as impatient to cum as you were. He was the world’s strongest sorcerer, but making him ache to have you without having to really try made you feel pretty damn powerful yourself. After how much he’d irked you a few minutes ago, you were rather grateful for the ego stroking.

“You want me just as bad.”

“Then do something about it.”

You presented your dare with a squeeze of your hand around the head of his cock, a warm grasp that he thrust his length towards and the gliding motion had his thickness sliding perfectly across your clit. Smile wavering with a moan, Gojo tugged your hand away from his dick and brought your palm to his mouth, kissing lightly and dragging his tongue over the light taste of himself on your skin. When he lowered your hand, it was to rest it beside its twin against the sheets, his eyes darting towards the sight of your fingers clutching tight to the bedding once he pressed your legs together. Your thighs formed a tight haven for his shaft, different and sweeter than fucking your tits because the added softness of your pussy was right there underneath. Sodden folds, swollen from the craving for him, rubbing along the underside of his cock to coat it in further slickness and it made the process of fucking his erection along your clit so much easier. It wasn’t the same as being inside you, as having him stretching you open until you swore you felt him touching deeper than anyone ever had, but it may as well have been heaven regardless.

“Satoru, that feels so good..”

“Feels so much better than good to me, baby,” Gojo huffed, barely holding on to his smile as he rolled his hips with a mix of mounting, pleasured desperation and controlled precision. “Don’t even have to be inside you to make us both feel good. Can make you cum so hard just from doing this.”

He was right, truthful, and you could feel how every stroke of his smooth cockhead brushing across your bud was pushing you towards a mounting bliss that would have the thighs pressed around his cock shaking in no time flat. He felt so hard and hot against you, the wet of your cunt audibly slickening his flesh further until the sound was deliciously close to the familiar cacophony that filled your bedroom whenever he was inside you. It was wonderful yet excruciating, fulfilling your needs while leaving you anxious for more, aware of the empty feeling inside you. Gojo would never leave you unsatisfied, because he never had, but the longer he thrust his way between your thighs, the deeper your wants became.

“You can. I know you can. But, fuck, Satoru, it’d be so good if you were inside me. Even better than this.”

Gojo’s groan said he knew, that he remembered how tight you were and how perfectly the squeeze of your inner walls always milked him dry. He seemed to struggle for a moment with keeping his eyes open, crystalline hue half-hidden by lowered lids as he stared down at the repeated peek of his cockhead questing forward through the crevice of your thighs. You glanced down to see it too, trembling with pleasure as you watched his tip rub and grind against your clit, bucking your hips up to ensure the pressure intensified. You moaned and it was a weak sound, an orgasm threatening to tear its way through you before long, leading your fingers from the sheets to your own chest, pinching your nipples. Gojo’s hips stuttered from the sight, his hooded glance drawn up your body and higher, locking on your face.

“Later,” he promised you finally, tone throaty and strained as groans pitched into near whines. “I’ll be inside you for as long as you want later. But..”

He smirked, like a devil with the face of an angel, dressed up in the cheap cat costume which had started it all.

“Kitty’s gotta mark you now.”

It should’ve made you cringe or laugh. It probably could have had you doing both at the same time, cheesy as the comment was. Especially with his eager thrusts shaking the cat ears on his head until the band holding them in place looked poised to fall right off. You just didn’t have it in you to care about the silliness or anything beyond the fact that he was making you cum, your throbbing clit and the unrelenting drag of his cock across it pulling an orgasm through your core before you could truly even prepare for the fall. Gojo didn’t have to be nestled deep to feel your climax overtaking you, seeing it before him in the sharp arch of your back and the kneading of your hands across your breasts hurriedly moving back to the sheets. You kept your eyes open in the thick of it, gazing up at your lover as he watched you come undone with parted lips, seeming hypnotized by the visage of your release before him. He didn’t blink, an almost ethereal vision made human by the way his own control faltered, broken and splintered by his own fall to ruin. Gojo’s cock pulsed against your puffy cunt and he cried out his satisfaction as it spilled across your belly and chest, haphazard lines as white as his hair marking your sweaty skin.

He turned his head, pressing his teeth into the side of one of your calves just hard enough to leave a mark, but it was difficult to even mind any hurt there could have been while the two of you came together. Sensations too good to be real burrowed beneath your skin, carried through the pit of your being to every part of it, and you let the ebb and flow persist for as long as it must, savoring the wonder of being brought to the edge so easily. It was always a marvel to you in the aftermath, as your latest orgasm slowly found its way towards softening, how successfully Gojo could please you and how much it could leave you craving more. Your body still shook, your pussy intensely soaked from how hard you’d just cum, but the aching he inspired in you lingered deep where you wanted him to be, almost enough to make you forget that you’d initially been cross with him.

Curse him and his magic dick and his stupidly pretty, wonderful face.

God, you were so in love with him.

The feeling appeared to be very mutual, broadcast like a song across airwaves and carried to you through the look he gave you once the messy pulsing of his spend finally halted. Gojo peered down at you with a smile, less smug and more sweet than you expected he would’ve easily let others see on him. He looked close to swooning, though he may have just been a little fuck drunk from his orgasm, yet you could see past the post-sex daze to glimpse the more that was written in those eyes of his. You weren’t always sure of it, battling with the perceptions of his reputation and your own insecurities, but the softness of how he looked at you was there, as sweet as the way he kissed you when he lowered your legs to lean down. Gojo stole as many kisses as he pleased, each one slow and savoring, lasting until he saw fit to nuzzle his face against your neck with a mimicked purr that had you hugging him with legs and arms alike. You petted the cat ears off his head, grazing your nails through snowy white locks to make him repeat the noise a second time. When it had you giggling, a sound he claimed numerous times to be his favorite, Gojo lifted his head to grin at you and he looked pleased with himself, victorious in a way that would’ve made you pinch him had you not felt so good just then.

“So, are you gonna keep me?”

“Hmmm..I dunno..”

“Seriously?! I made you cum in less than five minutes! That’s gotta be worthy of a forever home!”

“Yeah, maybe, but as far as pets go, you’re kind of a messy one, Satoru. I mean, just look.”

You gestured towards your chest with a hand, reminding him of the spill of cum he’d gotten all across your bare breasts and stomach, as well as his own now. Gojo looked temporarily pleased and more than a little aroused by the sight of his so recent release painting your body, but he let the delight fade into a mask of determination. He hopped off the bed, tucking himself back into his underwear, and he marched out of your bedroom with a purposeful stride that seemed less serious than he may have meant it to when he whistled along the way. The whiplash of his strange, mercurial moods had your head shaking, though not without affection, and you climbed off the bed to give your still tingling body a good stretch, heading towards your dresser for some pajamas to change into in the near future. Quite possibly after Gojo had fucked your brains out the way you were anticipating that he soon would.

The motions of your feet carrying you across the room stopped at the strange sounds you heard just beyond the open door, straining your ears to listen. Nearby in the bathroom, you could hear Gojo making shushing noises, talking in a low whisper you could catch without being quite able to discern the exact words he was saying. You looked around the room, spying his cellphone nestled atop your table along with his usual clothing. Who was he talking to?

When he returned to you, moistened washrag in hand, you noticed how he seemed to pointedly avoid your gaze while he set to work cleaning his cum from your body. The whistling which had gone with him out the room resumed, a little louder and appearing far more like a distraction than it should have.

“If you’re hiding another prank or something, I am officially going to cockblock you for the rest of the night. I mean it.”

“You’re an awfully suspicious woman.”

“I’m dating the trolliest troll to ever troll. I think I’m well within my right to be suspicious of whatever shenanigans you’ve got up your sleeve. So, come on. No more surprises, Satoru. What was with the whispering in the other room?”

Withholding his answer until he could finally see your brow beginning to pinch, waiting for the reaction of near annoyance he’d been hoping for like the wicked little shit he was, Gojo tossed the washrag into your dirty clothes hamper and strode out of the room again. Left standing there, questions unanswered, you fought not to simply follow him or start rubbing your temples, electing to just wait for whatever was coming next. Knowing Gojo, it could’ve been anything. Ferreting through drawers for something to change into since the possibility of further mischief had cooled your lingering arousal, you tugged on a long t-shirt as soon as you got your hands on one, rooting further to find a fresh pair of panties.

Gojo cleared his throat from the doorway, halting your quest prematurely, and the frustrated look on your face was gone the second you saw what he had held so gently in his large hands.

“Oh.”

“Yep,” he replied, massive smile beaming, happily smug from your shocked reaction. “Not what you were expecting at all, was it?”

He stroked one long finger underneath a tiny chin, the fluffy kitten in his hands purring from the attention and staring at you with the biggest blue eyes you’d ever seen, aside from your boyfriend’s. It looked like Gojo was cradling a living, breathing powder puff and you felt your heart threatening to absolutely burst at the view of such a precious creature just within reach. You wanted to ask him where and when he’d managed to find such a gorgeous cat, but your emotions were threatening to get the better of you, questions hard to manage when you were so happy.

“Satoru.”

“Hey, baby, don’t cry. This was suppose to be a good surprise. I mean, obviously not as good as me being dressed up all sexy, but still good, right?”

Gojo took a step forward and he extended his fuzzy surprise out to you in the clear hope that holding the kitten would make you smile again. You grinning through the tiny spill of tears that made your vision glossy and gingerly brought the tiny fur baby to your chest, trying not to squeal at how readily the kitty leaned into the cheek scritches you gave.

“No, it’s a really good surprise, Satoru. A happy cry kind of surprise, I promise.”

“Oh. Whew. Okay. That’s a relief. I don’t know what I’d have done if you suddenly decided to reject Satoru the Second.”

Purrs rumbled sweetly against your chest, a sound and sensation you’d been hoping to have in your life for months. It comforted you, elated you, and those feelings couldn’t be beaten by anything, not even the absurdity of the name your boyfriend had chosen.

“We’re definitely not naming him that.”

“We have to, though! He looks just like me! It only makes sense to name him after me!”

“Nope. Definitely not. I veto.”

“We could call him ‘Toru for short?”

“What about something cute? Like Pancake?”

“Okay, maybe you’re onto something, but if we’re going with naming him after something sweet, it at least ought to match how he looks. What about Mochi? Or Marshmallow?”

Gojo came closer, rambling off a list of dessert related names he felt might be suited to the ball of pure fluff that seemed completely content in your hands, like he knew he’d found his forever home with the two weird humans that surrounded him. Your boyfriend started petting the kitten’s head, showing his own immediate affection for the pet he’d been planning to gift you all along.

He may have taken a very roundabout way of revealing what he’d done for you, but in truth his methods hadn’t been all that bad. Gojo could be a menace in the best and worst ways. That much was a fact known to anybody who associated with him.

To you, however, he was the sweetest nuisance.

Silly cat boy costumes and all.

#gojo satoru #jjk #jjk x reader #catboy #smut #jjk smut #what is happening #i’m crazy #x reader #fem reader

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chaoticbardlady99 · 6 months

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Could you please do some comforting fic? Like, Tav is crying because of stress (or maybe a painful memory) and Astarion has to console her being an absolute emotional support vampire?

Dying Star (Astarion x GN! Reader)

Your wish is my command!

Synopsis: While exploring the Shadowlands, you run into Arabella and she asks you to find her parents. Unfortunately, you don’t have good news to deliver and Astarion tries to navigate your feelings with tips from Karlach.

Character Class- Cleric of Lliira

(I’m really obsessed with this concept because I’m a Social Worker and I refer to myself as the “positivity police” so this is a character type I have grown fond of)

TW: Grief, Trauma, Parental loss, PTSD, Panic Attacks, mentions of violence and gore.

*I really like the nickname Little Love (I know it’s for Ascended only but…..) so I will be using it as a pet name that Astarion uses for the reader.

Companion song: Dying Star by Ashnikko (feat. Ethel Cain)

It was supposed to be easy. You had an extra skip to your step as you headed in the direction Arabella told you her parents went.

Finally, you had thought, I can do something good for someone. I can reunite a family. No morally gray bullshit to navigate.

You were grinning the whole way there despite your argument with Astarion before sending him with Arabella.

“We don’t have time to go parent hunting.”

“There is always time to go parent hunting.”

He had expressed his disdain about finding Arabella’s parents. He told you it’s a waste of time- they were probably dead anyway. Arabella had whimpered and teared up. That was enough for you to lose your patience and you ripped into him for saying "something so awful and in front of a CHILD, nonetheless!"

You sent him back with Arabella and Wyll, telling him that if he had no desire to search and rescue, he didn’t have to. He had looked hurt and insisted he go, that he needed to be there, but you were fed up and a little girl was crying.

Dejected, Astarion had gone back to camp. The guilt sat heavily at the bottom of your stomach, but you had a personal mission to complete and nothing was going to stop you.

You were orphaned as a young child. The nightmares had gone away (for the most part), but you still remember your father dragging you away from your mother’s cold body as Loth Drows ambushed Silverymoon. They had had a whole army and their druids had control over giant creatures from the Underdark. You remember losing your father in the haze, an arrow to your back, running and slipping into a river. Then nothing. Until a nearby Cleric of Lliira (Leer-uh) had saved you, taking you to Selgaunt (SELL-GAUNT) on the coast of the Sea of Stars. Lliira had healed your heart and saved you- you hoped to pay that debt forward and help Arabella have a better outcome than you did.

No one in your party knew your past and you hadn’t brought it up to Astarion. It feels so long ago and it was a topic you preferred to bring up in a more hospitable place than the Shadowlands and after you help Astarion kill Cazador. You wanted to prioritize his joy and help him finally be free, so why would you burden him with your past while he is suffering far more from his?

It didn’t take you and your party long to locate Arabella’s parents. You found them in the House of Healing- dead. Along with your hope and joy.

You had erupted in a tearful rage and you stabbed the Sister who killed them over and over.

You didn’t care what the Joybringer would do if she saw how senselessly you mutilated the sisters and Malus. You had made them suffer as you saw fit. Mutilating them, using more painful methods of killing (stabbing in painful, but not lethal spots), and your crying came out as painful, angry screams.

Gale, Karlach, and Shadowheart eyed you with concern as you walked back to the camp. Usually you were singing or whistling a tune, cracking jokes to relieve the tension.

Instead, you were focusing on how you would break the news to Arabella that her parents are dead and she is all alone.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Astarion paces around his tent, trying to distract himself from the pit of fear in his stomach. You had never snapped at him that way- usually you just roll your eyes at him and give him a chaste kiss with a soft, “I understand if you don’t want to go, but I would appreciate it if you would come along.”

He wasn’t sure why Arabella and her parents had been a sensitive subject or why you had insisted on looking for them when they were likely already dead. No one survives the Shadow Cursed Lands without a light source and mediocre tactical skills.

That didn’t stop him from rooting for you though- he hopes he is wrong and that you come back victorious. He wants you to be happy. Astarion enjoys seeing you succeed because that’s when you flash that brilliant grin that he has (silently) adored since the moment he met you. The reason he protested in the first place is because he knows how destroyed you would be if Arabella’s parents are dead. He doesn’t want you to hurt- for your heart to lose it’s optimism.

He hears you, Karlach, Shadowheart, and Gale come into camp. He steps out of the tent- hoping that you were able to achieve the outcome you wanted, that you would come parading into camp victorious.

He sees you talking to Arabella in a quiet whisper and he watches as your face contorts to hold back your own feelings as Arabella screams at you. He watches you take it- as she punches you in the stomach over and over. You just let her before she runs off. Withers says something to you quietly before you walk into your tent, closing yourself off from everyone.

Astarion feels stuck in the entryway of his tent. He doesn’t know what to do.

“Hey fangs,” Karlach says, offering a sad smile as she walks up to him, “you should probably know- they went over the rails after seeing Arabella’s parents.”

A look of confusion spreads across his face. What does that even mean? You were barely capable of hurting a fly!

“Like they became upset?”

Karlach nods with weary eyes,“They became upset and… well very, very, very violent.”

The tadpole behind his eyes begins to squirm as he allows Karlach to show him the scene.

He didn’t think you were capable of that much destruction. He saw angry tears slide down your face as you destroyed everything in your path. His gentle, joyful Cleric had broken in the House of Healing.

How ironic, he thinks bitterly.

He feels his own tears begin to prick his eyes as he watches you suffer through the battle- screaming and crying. He should have been there for you. He should have gone and let you be mad at him for disobeying. He hangs his head and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“She really needs you Fangs,” Karlach says to him, interrupting his train of thought.

Of course Karlach would say that as if it was the easiest thing in the world- like he hadn't been tortured and unloved for the past two centuries.

“I don’t know how to be what she needs right now,” he says in a soft voice.

It was true. He had only just expressed his feelings for you and he barely felt confident doing that to begin with. He spent two centuries seducing and manipulating whoever he could to survive. How could he be what you need right now? When he is just as much of a monster as the individuals that killed Arabella’s parents?

Karlach contemplates this, searching Astarion’s face as if the answer to all his problems would be there.

“You don’t need to do anything other than being there- tell them you are sorry. Tell them you were rooting for them because I saw it in your head. Tell them that they aren't alone,” Karlach pauses before saying, “And remind them that they are a good person- that Lliira wouldn’t abandon her in her suffering.”

Despite his fear and reluctance, he thanks Karlach for the advice and walks towards your tent.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Your body is shaking violently as your chest tightens and painful, silent sobs come out of your mouth. You are trying (and failing) to use your hand as a sound barrier.

It’s not about you, it’s about Arabella, you remind yourself, stop being so selfish.

Except the images are back, you are small again, helpless again, alone, and afraid. Despite your effort, Arabella has been given the same fate and in the same breath, you turned away from your Goddess. You lost yourself in the fight, you were aware of this while it was happening. You just didn’t have it in you to care anymore.

You hear footsteps approach your tent- you do the best to rub away the tears and snot.

It’s not about you.

You hear Astarion’s voice on the other side of the tent flap.

“Little love,” he says softly, “can I please come in?”

You laugh, your voice hoarse, “Come to tell me ‘I told you so?’ To gloat and laugh? If that is your intention, then no. You will need to wait one to five business days before you can do that.”

You don’t hear him laugh at your humorous response as he usually does. He enters the tent and you feel him sit down behind you, his legs on either side of yours. He’s tense as he puts his arms around you from behind, pulling you in between his legs. He slowly relaxes against your body, putting his face in the crook of your neck.

“I’m sorry Little Love. I wanted to be wrong. I just knew how much it would… hurt you if the outcome wasn’t… well.”

You sniff, choking back a sob as he begins drawing shapes on the back of your shaking hands.

“It’s okay my love. You can let it out. I’m here for you. You aren’t alone.”

Despite how clumsy and awkward it was said, that sentence alone broke whatever composure you still had. You cry and scream into your hand as Astarion holds onto you as if you are about to fly away and he is your anchor. Your breath is shallow and it’s hard to breathe as you suffocate on your grief and panic. You feel him ask for access to your mind, wanting to know how to help. So, you show him and you let all your grief pour into your cries. You feel his own tear mix with yours as he cries into your neck as he endures how you feel with you- as he watches your whole life fall apart because of one ambush over and over again.

He continues to trace patterns on your hands, asking you to focus on him and what he is doing, reminding you to breathe as you do for him when he is distressed.

You begin to calm as you focus on his voice, focus on his delicate fingers tracing your skin, and for once, you don’t feel so alone. You scoot forward, gently removing his arms , and turn around to face him, your tearful eyes meeting his.

He grabs your face gently and kisses your forehead as silent tears roll down both of your faces. You look down at your hands before speaking.

“I thought… I thought I could help Arabella be reunited with her family,” you say in a gravely whisper, “I had hoped she wouldn’t be alone like I was, but now…”

You suck in a harsh breath and look at your hands, “Gods, I am naive and stupid.”

“No- you do not get to talk about my favorite person that way,” Astarion says sharply.

You look up in surprise at the intensity of his words. He matches your eyes with a look of adoration, guilt, and a ferocity you have never seen before.

“Little Love, you are not naive and you are not stupid,” He pauses, to kiss one of your hands and intertwines your fingers together, “you are so good without trying because that is who you are. You experienced hardship and you didn’t let it destroy you. You didn’t become a monster.”

He looks at your face to gauge your reaction. You sit quietly, letting him continue to speak if he chooses so he does.

“You… you are amazing and a bright light in the darkness. You are my moon, my compass, and you have shown me parts of myself I didn’t know existed,” he clears his throat before continuing.

“ I hate to see you hurt, but I promise I will be here to help you through your suffering,” He stares into your eyes intensely, “for as long as you will have me.”

You pause, taking in everything he has just said to you. You felt like a star dying, exploding in the cosmos. You feel evil and wrong for the violence you inflicted on the Sisters and Malus in your need for revenge. Your actions were not of Lliira's will.

“I don’t know if that’s who I am anymore, Star. I engaged in senseless violence… I don’t think Lliira will forgive me- and if she does, it won’t be easy to obtain her forgiveness,” you say glumly.

He grabs your other hand in his and offers a soft smile.

“Then we will work together to get you back into favor with your Goddess and I will remind you everyday who you are until you believe in yourself again,” he says before leaving a chaste kiss on your lips.

You smile despite yourself, your chest glowing with warmth as you stare into his eyes. You know Astarion detests the Gods, but the fact that he was willing to help you made your eyes tear up again. You are horribly desperately in love with him and as much as you want to tell him that, you practice restraint. There is a time and place- that time is not now, not when the relationship just began.

“And what if I need it everyday for the rest of your Immortal life?” You say half-joking and half-afraid of his answer.

A wide, genuine grin spreads across Astarion’s face as your words register in his mind.

They want me to stay. They want me to be by their side-even when this is all done.

Astarion pulls you into his lap, your legs straddling his hips as he pulls you into him and presses a soft kiss against your neck before laying his head on your shoulder.

“Then I will stay by your side. Forever.”

#astarion x reader #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x you #astarion x gender neutral reader #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #karlach

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blue-sterling0357 · 6 months

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May I have ciel, alois, joker , dagger, and vincent Phantomhive with a s/O.The one with the demeanor of the gentle kanae, the elegant shinobu like the butterfly 🦋 and the cheerful plus kindness like mitsuri kanroji. I know my request is not important so you can ignore this 👏 , I really like the whole story and your blog everything is perfect💯👍👏

(My favourite request in a while! I added Sebastian too! Sorry... Angst in Joker's because you die alongside him... :> )

Black Butler X Mitsuri/Shinobu! Reader

Sebastian Michaelis

✥ Sebastian is blatantly happy with himself for meeting someone like you, don't tell him I told you, he won't ever admit it, stupid demon thinking he's all that when he isn't shit.....

✥ If there is one thing you both are known and noticed for, is you guys beauty, I mean you with your amazing (h/c) hair with pink ends and you reek of elegance and superiority while him, he's tall and very handsome might I add.

✥ Also as Sebastian's significant other, you probably do know he's a demon, but you like him, cause he doesn't kill and eat humans like the ones in your place.

✥ Sebastian loves you so much, you're so very kind even to creatures like him, upon learning of your past, where your fiance rejected you because you would eat more the other girls, because of your unusual hair, because of your strength, it was the first time he had ever felt his blood boil so much.

✥ He is proud of you that you stood back on your feet and how you fight demons, he learns it takes immense power to not only be a hashira but also create a poison strong and lethal enough to kill them, that's impressible!

✥ Sebastian also knows of how demons killed you elder sister and how you thus have anger which you often lace with a smile because you sister liked when you smile, he can feel your anger...

�� Sebastian has tried to tone down your obsession on Sakura mochi and you definitely weren't happy about it, but once learning how you lose your pink tips and how your hair is coloured simply because of how much you eat, you get a few Sakura Mochi, simply only to keep your adorable pink tips in your hair.

✥ Sebastian when he first made food for you, he made enough to fill you by looking at your figure, you were quite thin, but you finished all the food in only aa few minutes and were still hungry, that's when he learnt about you humongous appetite of that compared to three sumos. He is impressed, a tad bit scared because is this normal?? Also ready to make good food for you!!

✥ Sebastian often sits there while you work as doctor at the butterfly mansion with your younger sisters and the three Butterfly girls, he also learnt about Tamayo, you both would help each other make poisons and sometimes Sebastian would also learnt to make some and help you with fighting demons.

✥ Of-course he isn't able to kill them as they only regenerate, he learns how the demons at your place only die of sunlight, if Muzan gets mad and only if they get mutilated by a demon slayer's sword, he obviously knows how to use a katana and so sometimes he kills little demons here and there for fun.

✥ Sanemi, Obanai and others obviously didn't take well to you dating a demon and they thought he was trying to date to get info for Muzan and so tried to kill him by bringing him in the sunlight, and since Sebastian was only standing there all confused everyone was shocked, until you explained he was a different type of demons and told them how they don't like to eat humans that way, they understood him though still a bit doubtful.

✥ He saw you kill the spider girl, he did find it hot when you threatened to gouge out her eyes or slash her stomach and organs, he finally saw you using your insect breathing for the first time, he finds it very beautiful! He also learns your breathing style by the way, neither you nor him understand how and why because first, he's a demon and second he isn't going to die in the way demons under Muzan die.?????

✥ Oh speaking of Muzan, he found Sebastian doing things and learnt he was also a demon and asked Sebastian to help him find the blue spider lily because he thought Sebastian was also using his blood and when Sebastian was attacked by him and threatened to take his blood and nothing happened, that is when Muzan realized he was fucked, Muzan was safe tho, because Sebastian was distracted by you....

✥ Sebastian is very much familiar with the fact that you have incredible physical strength because once you were returning from a two week mission when Sebastian welcomed you and in excitement and happiness you hugged him so tightly and you didn't realise you picked him up from the floor upto two feet in the air and it wasn't until Sebastian started speaking that you realized how strong you are and put him down apologizing a bit...

✥ If there is one thing Sebastian dislikes a bit about you is how you find everybody so cute and simp over them all the time! Cause he's a demon and he is naturally possessive and protective of you, it's fine he feels better when you began simping over him again after he does one tiny thing which you find hot!

✥ Oh, Ciel also asks you to bake him sweet-treats cause other than being a demon slayer, you have a bakery business which you handle with the snake Hashira, Obanai, your best-friend and your sibling!

✥ You are very smart, you created a poison powerful enough to kill a demon and thus, you tried making a thing for temporarily helping Sebastian become human in which you kind of succeeded, cause after trying it on Sebastian, he can "turn" on his taste buds on demand, because he ans to taste you delicacies and foods an to make sure the food he's cooking is good as well...

✥ Oh, he saw a photo of your family and he found out you got your strength from your dad, he saw that you also earned his adorable cheek moles, you also have a brother and you how lifted a HUGE ROCK as a baby...he is tad bit worried, but over all in love!

✥ Oh and you also help in fighting with your katan laced with wisteria poison, though Sebastian disapproves of this he only does this because he knows you can fight, but if it's a his type of demon demon, he's putting the place on lockdown because ain't no way in hell is he letting you fight any demons more than you already do!

Ciel PhantomHive

✥ Ciel and you, his S/O were one hell of a couple! You, a bubby, elegant and sweet person also very smart may I add, while him, cold, quiet, annoyed, strict, though smart as well!

✥ Ciel finds you very peculiar, he knows of your past, your fiance hating the fact that you eat more than other girls, how your hair colour was weird and how you were strong and how demons killed your beloved sister. He finds you very strong to bear all that and still stay happy, I mean how could you be so bubbly and kind, when he is still looking for people who killed his parents.

✥ When you first met Ciel, it was because he was hurt and you were the best doctor of the place, he was there at the butterfly mansion, when you walked in and god forbid, your beauty took his breath away, literally and figuratively because he ended up having a asthma attack and Sebastian always made fun of Ciel for that..

✥ He is very proud of you as well, how you stopped caring how people view your appetite, strength and looks, because as long as you are happy and achieving your goals, people have no right to try and take them away from your simply because you don't look normal.

✥ He watches you train everyday! I mean, he is terrified and interested at your immense flexibility training and how strong you are physically, you can pick up Bard and Sebastian single handedly at the same time, he learnt your strength is very helpful in killing the demons in your area, because it takes immense strength to cut a demon's head off.

✥ Speaking of killing demons, you can easily kill a demon by cutting their head off and yet you also use your brain to make a poison lethal enough to kill them in case of a position you're not strong enough to kill them, Ciel definitely tried to use it on Sebastian....

✥ Oh and he encourages your obsession with Sakura mochi, because he learnt that once when Sebastian cut off the Sakura Mochi from a particular diet you asked him to give you, Ciel learnt how your hair loose it's beautiful pink strands, when you stopped eating them and because they're a trade mark beauty feature of yours, he was very angry and demanded you get off the diet and continue with your Sakura Mochi obsession to bring back your pink tips!

✥ Speaking of mochi, Ciel now always eats sweet dishes because you own a bakery with your siblings, and your sweets taste very good and you cook amazing food and of-course it is now Ciel's comfort food and he demands it when he is having late-night cravings.

✥ Your bakery is most definitely famous, and you always help Bard make food as every noble is jealous of the Phantomhive manor's good sweets and amazing foods

✥ Ciel also learnt about Kanao and how she uses a coin and how she was treated, he felt bad for her and he formed a soft connection with her, Kanao learnt about Ciel's past while she told him about her past and they ecause good friends, Kanao likes him and trusts you for choosing him

✥ Ciel watches you and Tamayo make poisons and often asks Sebastian to bring a demon so you and Tamayo can test it's lethality on it and see the side-effects!

✥ You know how girls sit on their boyfriends' backs when they push up? Yeah, instead it's Ciel who sits on your back while you do push-ups and you can go forever without getting tired cause Ciel is very light! And so Ciel reads a medium size books while you do pushups or planks.

✥ You introduced Ciel and the staff to Kamaboko squad and Nezuko loves him, Ciel is generally enjoying her and Tanjirou's company becuse he learns how their family was also slaughtered, while he is absolutely angry around Zenitsu because he doesn't like the fact that Zenitsu is absolutely flirting with you. He's neutral with Inosuke, mainly cause he doesn't care about the boy but when Inosuke took off his mask, Ciel is very surprised to see a pretty girl's face on a wild boar's body, he's fine with it....kind of angry when he goes around fighting and being angry at people

✥ Tanjirou and Nezuko know about Sebastian being demon because you told them and Ciel likes the surprising fact that Tanjirou's smelling sense are god-tier and how his forehead is rock-hard, because he once bashed his head on a table in frustration and it broke into smithereens, scaring the staff. Mey-rin and Finny love Nezuko, they find her adorable but confused as to why she wears a muzzle and though they know you have demons in your world, they understand not to ask about it.

✥ Okay, let's continue with your relationship! Ciel, for once finds your humongous appetite to be quite insatiable sometimes, but nothing Sebastian's cooking can't fix, he knows how much to make for you and since you feel upset for increasing their work, you help by helping Mey-rin clean the dishes and make sure she doesn't do anything weird or break anything!

✥ Ciel also gets highly jealous when you start complimenting people because you find them cute or beautiful or hot, but it's fine cause you always come back to him and shower him in the compliments for than anyone else and you can also sense he's mad...

✥ He finds you very elegant, exactly like a butterfly and whenever you fight a demon you sometimes show him how you use your breathing style and though you can't actually see it , he can feel it, pretty butterflies fluttering around.

Alois Trancy

✥ He is very much questioning how you aren't mad about your past with you ex-fiancee and your elder sister being killed by a demon, because he feels his blood burn when you told him about...

✥ Alois very much understands your hate for demons, yet you're still very kind to hannah, the triplets and Claude. You're very kind and you still like to help the five demons, even though you hate demons, not all, but enough demons!

✥ Now, you're very pretty and that's something Alois loves, he is always ready to dress you up in very pretty dresses and clothing, he loves to you dressed up in your kimonos or yukatas, or a training uniform, he likes to stare cause he's a little perv..

✥ Okay, but facts the fact that he is scared and turned on by your training, you're so flexible, it's scary, and your strength..GOD! HE LOVES A STRONG LADY who is sweet..he's weird..But ngl, he's supportive of your job and work as your S/O, that's nice of him, isn't it??

✥ Okay, your appetite is accepted, eh doesn't even realize a lot that you're eating WAYYY MORE than a normal persons; only 3 sumos appetite much, but he accepts it and asks Claude and Hannah more like DEMANDED them to make more food for you and you help them in cleaning the dishes.

✥ Oh, he saw how MANY sakura mochis you ate and he demanded you stop and you stopped for a while and then he noticed how your hair was no longer pink and he apologized while crying in your lap and you continued with your love for it. He is honestly very sorry, eh loves your pink hair tips and needs them in his life to survive...

✥ He is obsessed with you carrying him like a princess in your arms, since you're so strong it's like you're holding a couple of grapes in your hands but it's Alois, and yes, he does get mad when Claude tries to take him away from you...

✥ He wants to learn how to handle the katana but always somehow ends up hurting himself or doing something to the katana, when you tell him how katana are specially made for particular breathing style, he tones down the fun things for a bit, but he's surprised at how you wield the Love breathing sword, when Claude told him a similar thing in India martial art, which you have to fold after using it, but your sword is kinda different so he prefers not to touch it in case he damages it, he will apologize!

✥ Oh and if he's ever sick, no way will he let anyone treat him other than you...If anyone even tries to touch him, he'll stab them...not to worry, he'll listen to you like an obedient person and lover he is..

✥ Oh and he does not eat treats unless they're from your hand, he loves sweets from your bakery, he will always help you financially, but he enjoys going to your bakery...

✥ Gets jealous very easily and will yell at you for finding other people attractive or cute, but look at him angrily or just be upset with him, he will apologize, he just doesn't want you to leave him!

✥ He finds your family quite adorable as well, especially how you inherited your dad's cheek moles and strength and how you were able to pick up a HUGE stone as a child, he wants you to carry him everywhere you can!!!

✥ He finds your intelligence hot and great! You made a poison to kill the demons in your world, which aren't killed by anything except sunlight, muzan being angry or getting their head chopped off by a demon slayer, so it's a VERY BIG feat! He is very proud of you~

Joker

✥ Well there are many types of people in the Noah's Ark circus and you were one particular one and why you may ask? It's because you're dating Joker, duh!

✥ He found you very beautiful for your gorgeous purple and pink tips and gorgeous sparkling eyes, and amazing strength and intelligent mind which you use as a weapon to kill demons!...Aren't you an amazing thing to be in Noah's Ark?~

✥ If you don't mind doing shows with him, he will be happy, he finds it quite nice how flexible you are..and obviously some dirty thoughts come to mind at first, but he won't do them unless you're comfortable...He finds you just very pretty is all!!

✥ He finds you just as strong as he and the OG members of Noah's ark are; the pain you must have felt when you were torn apart for your beauty by your fiance the one whom you loved...how he hated how much you ate, how much your pretty hair disgusted him...but how much stronger you came back as, even after all the pain from that you lost your darling sister!

✥ Though he knows of the fact that you hide your anger under your smile because your sister liked your smile, he knows your hatred for a particular demons runs deep but you don't hate all of them, which is very surprising! But he's happy as long as you smile genuinely around him!

✥ He will definitely overwatch your training and get scared at it, you're so freaking strong and FAST?! HOW? oh right...killing demons..But still he finds it quite fascinating!

✥ He also learnt how you bought Kanao, and how she was also very similar to you, elegant and sweet looking, when he first met her, they were quite awkward, before Kanao asked how you were doing cause now you lived so far from her and she was also missing you a bit... In the end, she ended giving him a hug and in return he gave her a few headpats, he also made her a pretty butterfly pair of hairclip matching with you, so she could feel closer to you!

✥ Oh and he is always praising your intelligence, cause not only did you make poison lethal enough to kill demons but also help them increase their audience by quite a large number!!

✥ He will always compliment or praise you because he did not like how your fiance degraded you, he wants you to know you're gorgeous!!! He will not stand you thinking you're ugly, when you can make a life earnings with your looks only!!!

✥ You both died side-by-side...he held onto your body very tightly, and you held onto him equally tightly, He comforted you saying it was just wrong time..

"...Shhh...I'm sorry..I'm so very sorry my love...This just wasn't out time...Maybe we'll meet again...in another life...and in life after that...and every life we will have... I love you.." and if you both got a proper funeral... you had to buried right into one large coffin, cause he could not be pulled away from you...and people didn't even have the heart to... :>

Vincent PhantomHive

✥ Vincent was a incredible man, and so it was not surprising when he had equally as gorgeous S/O as you.. you were quite a something, very much known in between other nobles...

✥ He is constantly worried for your safety as a demon slayer; he knows he shouldn't be cause you're a Hashira, but still! Whenever he knows you fight some lower demon, he is not worried, but when he received the news that you fouuntil you come back safe to him...ght some stronger demon, he is constantly pacing and worried...

✥ He will never fail to compliment you, he will compliment he finds you think is stupid or ugly or whenever you're feeling insecure or self-conscious and compliment you! It's his job as your husband after all!!

✥ Oh, speaking of compliments, his main reason to give you millions of compliments is because he heard about your previous fiancee and how he treated you, shamed you and everything else and how you hid yourself from being your true self even in the few years you met him, you hid yourself...he will never let that happen again. Never again.

✥ Vincent is an exceptionally kind man....he never treat anyone cruelly...but god has he never felt so much anger before...how dare someone so lowlife get the audacity to comment on your appearance..and that demon...he killed your darling sister...you're extremely strong and he's very much blown away by you and he admires you so much!!!

✥ He doesn't want you to be ashamed of your beauty which brings people to their knees..which makes people lose their breaths..which makes people question if they want to be you or be with you...how can you not see it in yourself?

✥ Oh and...he is definitely concerned about your intake of Sakura Mochi..let's pretend all the victorian intelligence for women isn't there...He did try to slow it down a bit, but it only made you slightly upset and lose your gorgeous pink tips...and he felt upset seeing you upset, so he began continuing your obsession!

338 notes · View notes

yaut-jaknowit · 2 months

Note

Gonna have to fly in here on the speed of light atp😭 I had an idea after me and my duo were brainstorming. Where like the reader dies, but their consciousness gets put into an android instead (like from the game Detroit Become Human) and he doesn’t remember who his mate is anymore and has to regain his memories. Brain creativity is wild. (Don’t even ask how long I had this sitting and ready to be sent)

Lost Your Mind

Pairing: Pel (Male Yautja) x Cyborg!Reader

Word Count: 2778

Summary: Cream-colored ceilings are the first thing you see when waking up from nothing. You have no memories of who or where you are. When a large humanoid creature comes into the room, your first instinct is to freak out.

Author Note: You're lucky you were able to come in here so quickly, but even then, there was a few before you. This was definitely different than any I've written. I hope it's up to code for you!

Masterlist

Ao3

Slow, bogged down. It felt like an uphill climb to get your brain to boot up. Your eyelids slid back to reveal a bland cream-colored ceiling. It took twice the amount of strength to push yourself into a sitting position.

The room filled with strange trinkets all revolving around bones and weapons meant for hunts. It piqued your interest.

Soft pelts slipped from your skin and back onto the bed. You stood up from the bed and promptly closed onto your knees. Pain did not come. Confusion filled your thoughts as you stayed knelt on the ground and looked at your hands.

Gun metal grey filled your vision. Something was off.

A door sliding open had your head whipping up. There stood a figure your brain couldn’t supply the name, only the species. Yautja. A strong, lethal species not to be crossed with. Known for their hunting prowess and ability to take down prey five times their size with little effort. You inhaled sharply through your nose, eyes widening.

There was no open chance of escape if this figure meant harm. That door was the only entrance and exit. You gnawed on your bottom lip, feeling the softer metal scrap underneath dull teeth. All you could do was stay knelt on the ground, unable to find your way to your feet.

The alien figure was swift to enter your space and dropped to its knees before you. Coarse, scaly palms cupped your cheeks in a soft, gentle manner.

Your brows drew together. This wasn’t a normal behavior of a Yautja. Not the way your brain was able to supply so quickly on the thought. Ah, wait, the honor code. Maybe that’s why.

Then, it called your name in a sweet tone. It knew your name but you didn’t even know who or why they are here. Wait, where is here? Why are you here? A headache began to grow in your head. Or well, what felt like one. Like strange pressure that didn’t necessarily hurt but slow down your train of thought.

“You’re awake. I’m so glad you’re awake,” the Yautja cooed at you in tone they were never known for. You titled your head slightly in his hands and raised a brow.

“Who are you?”

Dead silence. Such a silence that allowed you to hear the beat of your heart thundering in your ears. To hear the stuttering beat from the alien before you. His hands added a hint of pressure that almost had you worried it was going to attack.

But it never did.

A whine. A pathetic, nearly dog like whine sounded from its throat. “No,” it whispered in the quiet air, finally breaking the silence. “No. No!” It was a cry of desperation. For what reason? You had no clue. You didn’t know who this was. Why should you care about their feelings?

“Can you let go of my face? This is kind of getting weird,” you muttered and tried to pull away from its firm grip. Hurt flashed in its bright eyes before its hold on you finally released you. Fingers ghosted over your skin then fell away to its sides.

The alien stayed knelt before you, corded muscles tense. You cleared your throat and make a quick show of glancing around. “You didn’t answer my first question.” The creature flinched and slightly bowed its massive head. Was this thing even a Yautja? It surely didn’t act like one with all these submissive actions. Your eyes narrowed on it.

All four of its short but sharp mandibles twitched. Like a nervous tick.

If you could, you would make your way to your feet and put some distance. The knowledge your brain simply supplied about this species was not how it was acting. It made you anxious, unsure if this one had some sort of disease.

“You don’t know me?” it whispered the question. Your brows scrunched together, lips pursing.

A shake of your head simply answered it.

It took a sharp intake then bowed its head. The strange-tresses. They help with sensing pressure and… sexual actions. Your face burned when your brain came up with this information. You shook your head and refocused on it in front of you.

The short tresses created a curtain on either side of its head while it lost eye contact with you. A part deep in your mind nearly surfaced: the need to comfort the saddened creature. You brushed it off and stayed glued to the ground. “Again, who are you? Where am I? What… what is happening?” Questions spilled from your lips.

For a minute moment, you glanced around the dim room and found it nothing of norm. Skulls of different creatures your brain instantly knew when looking at them lined two of the walls. Trophies that Yautjas hunted. Predators winning trophies. Some of said skulls were of humans… human. You were human? Why was that a question?

You inspected your hands again. They weren’t organic material. You rubbed your index and thumb pads together. Metal. The material that made up your hands was metal but the longer you looked, your gaze dragged up your arms. All metal. Smooth, skin tone metal encased your limbs. Your legs too.

Human no more.

A shrill shriek pierced your lungs. You attempted to rise to a stand but your legs failed to hold any weight still. Instead, you scrambled away from the Yautja and began to pant.

Uncoherent words jumbled their way from your metal lips. Your back pressed to the edge of the low bed behind you. Hands that weren’t yours, made with material that wasn’t organic, gripped at your head.

The same rough textured hands grasped at your wrists and pulled them away. A deep purr rolled through the air. You felt yourself beginning to soften in the hold before going slacken on the bed frame. It poke uncomfortably into your back but that was the least of my worries.

Finally, you raised your gaze to meet those piercing eyes that, dare you say, felt familiar. “What am I? What happened?” you cried, still panting as if you ran a marathon.

The Yautja sagged, grip loosening but not enough to release you. Not that you minded. All you wanted was some answers.

So many questions sprung to life inside of your mind. Was it even yours? Doubt and anxiety filled your no longer human frame.

It sat down on the metal ground before you and sat with its legs crossed. Well, less of an it now and more of a he. The males are smaller than the females. This one was average size of a male. You hated the fact you knew this more from a dictionary feeling than knowledge. Like you were reading this from a book than already knowing this internally.

“I’m sorry, I-they… they thought you would still have your memories. It was only a small chance you wouldn’t, but I still took the risk. Just to keep you,” he spilled and moved your hands to your lap while keep a hold on them.

This only caused the pressure inside of your head to worsen. Anger flashed to life inside of you. “What happened?!” you yelled at him, demanding an explanation for this. For the reason why I’m made of metal… like an android or robot.

He sighed and slightly tilted his head up enough to look at you from his deep-set eyes. A name fell from his lips, one you did no recognize. An action he noticed. “You… you died. Well, about to die. There was just enough time to get you on the mothership. I demanded the healers to save you. I could not loose you. I wasn’t ready.” He paused and glanced to the side.

His chest expanded with a deep breath. “There was little to save. Not even the healers could do much. The next best option was… to build you a body and transfer your brain and heart into it, well what’s left of your heart.”

The explanation didn’t ease the trembling in your hands. More tears fell down artificial cheeks. What was real of you anymore? Just your brain and heart? Nothing else?

“Oh, my flower, it’s going to be-“ he reached forward to wipe off a tear when you smacked his hand away from you.

“Don’t touch me!” you screeched at him but stayed sat on ground in a pile of defeat. It would be pointless to try and get up when your first two attempts ended in failure. You glare at the ground, chest heaving with each angry breath.

The Yautja gave a look of hurt but backed off by giving you some space. He stayed in the room, five feet away from you still on the ground.

You had almost died. Death. And you didn’t even remember anything of the sort. Nothing besides waking up early and him coming through the door was everything on your memory banks.

What does this mean for you? Instead of skin, you were metal. Could you feel the same? What about pain? How bad will this change your life? You wiped a stray tear and flicked it away. Yet, more came to fill its place. An never-ending waterfall.

What about your tears? Will that reservoir need to be replenished? Or eating and food. How will that work? Do you need to be near an outlet for the rest of your life? Always ready to recharge your batteries. You sobbed harder at the thought.

After your cried went quiet and the silence was too much, you cleared your throat and looked over at him. “So, what’s your name?” If you were stuck like this, you might as well make the most of the situation. Learn what you can of your past life. Maybe even return to it if possible. Even if you weren’t human anymore.

His fangs clicked against another. “Pel.” Short, sweet. An easy name to remember. But with the technology hooked up to your brain, it’s not like you could easily forget.

“And who were you to me?” It was a strain to force the words out. Such a strange question to ask in any other situation other than being turned into a robot.

Yet, the Yautja kept his trap shut and instead reached for a necklace that hung around his neck. Bones of different species hung off the cord. His fingers softly rubbed at a stone in the middle.

“Your mate,” he whispered, the words hurting to be spilled. Your brows jumped to the ceiling. You stared at him for longer than you would like to admit with a deafening silence that engulfed the two of you. It took more will power than to hold back an army from screaming out right there.

Mate? Yautjas take mates as a form of permanent relationship compared to the seasonal fling to produce offspring. He was your mate. Lover, partner, boyfriend. None of those substitutions eased you.

A painful thought came to mind: would he still love me even if I wasn’t the same as before? Mind or body? “So, that’s why you decided to the take the risk and forever change me into this thing,” you bitterly spat out. Your upper lip curling up. “Why?”

His back straightened for a more serious approach. “You are my mate. How could I not save you from Cetanu’s wrath?” Words softly spoken with such hurt and disbelief for your own unfaith in him. Could he blame you? Memories of the past wiped clean and leave behind a clean slate to be marked. Nothing to alert he ever meant something to you.

Instantly, your brain supplied information about the name he stated. The god of death for Yautjas. The hunting grounds Yautjas are sent to for their final battle before the end. You groaned clutched at your head in distraught, despising the fact that wasn’t knowledge you personally knew.

A pained glare was sent in his direction. “Well, how is that going for you? I don’t even know who you are.” The Yautja sighed with his head bowed once more. You could see the gears in his head trying to figure out a way to fix this.

How could he fix this? You weren’t human anymore. Not fully. A cyborg of sorts for his own gain.

But, he did save you from death. You gnawed at your inner cheek then exhaling softly.

“The healers said it was a slight possibility but I had to take the chance. I couldn’t lose you so soon!” he cried and fidgeted in his spot on the floor. “You don’t understand how my heart ached at the sight of you. So bloodied, barely breathing. It wasn’t even an honorable death. A Bad Blood tried to kill you.”

Bad Blood: rouge Yautjas who have broken the honor code. Enforcers hunt them down. They are deemed rouge by a council of their assigned clan.

Fuck you.

This was sickening. If you had a stomach, you probably would’ve puked up whatever they pumped into you to keep you alive. You took a deep breath to stave off the new wave of tears daring to fall.

“I hate this,” you whispered and gripped at your head. The information dump was driving you insane. Anything you didn’t know personally was fed into your brain forcefully. You felt like a dictionary. “Turn it off!”

You gripped tighter at your head then ducked down to your knees, forehead to them. A sob desperate wanted to wrack your body but you fought it off by closing off any sounds. Anything to keep any sliver of dignity you held on to.

Hand encased your wrists again and brought them away then to your sides. “Turn what off?” his voice whispered. You whipped your head up and nearly smacked into his jaw if he was a second slower.

Despite him having a hold on your wrists you still made a general motion towards your head. “Everything I don’t know, something tells me! I’m like a fucking computer. I hate it! I hate this! I hate you!” you snarled at him and tried to fight him off. He struggled to hold onto your stronger form but kept you retrained and pressed to the bedframe behind you. “I never wanted this! You did this to me.”

His hold slackened enough for you to tug free. Your feet wobbled like a newborn foal. Every step helped gain you speed and out the open door.

This space looked to be a living room. Basic, enough furniture to hold three people in the same area if the need arises. Small yet homey in a strange way. You had enough time to give a quick look over before your legs gave out once. You fell to your knees and screamed with anger at the whole situation. This felt like a punishment worse than death.

Starting your life over while stuck in the middle.

Hands grasped at your shoulders and tugged you into a warm body. Your brain went numb, unable to react to something that felt familiar. A purr rumbled your internal parts and soothed the raging emotions swirling inside of you. You whimpered and gripped onto one of his forearms entangled around you. “It’s going to be okay. It’ll all be okay. We’ll figure this out together. We always do. We are a team. I will help you every step of the way. I will never leave you, okay?” he stated and rubbed a palm along your bicep.

You swallowed the lump that blocked any words down. “I’m scared,” you admitted and tightened your hold on him. “I don’t like this.”

This was all completely out of your territory. You didn’t know where you are, barely knew who this was, and got turned into a cyborg after you were supposedly attacked. You hadn’t even known you had died. What a messed-up outcome this has turned into.

The purr deepened. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, my mate. I will protect you with my life.” He paused and ducked his head down, mandibles pressed to the back of your head. “I’m sorry to have put you under so much stress. I thought this was the best route for you.”

His words helped you loosen your muscles or whatever corded your body. You leaned more against him and turned your head. Your nose finding his scent and realizing how familiar to felt. Maybe life will get easier after this? Now, you had to hope for the best outcome of life that has been turned on its head. You tilted your head back and found the large alien gazing down at you.

“I think you’re right.”

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #predator x reader #predator x you #yautja x human #predator x human #x reader #Pel

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 5 months

Text

Shadows Entwined: Part 2

BatmanVsTmnt!Leonardo x sidekick!reader

Part 1 / Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Bonus (18+)

In which both Leo and reader get grilled by their families, because of the "pretty eyes".

Warnings: Spelling, loong.

The reader and the turtles are 19.

—--------------------------------------

“They call him… The Batman”, Donnie said, reading from his computer screen, causing Leo to break from his starting contest with the wall. He didn’t even remember how he got to staring at the wall. He remembers returning to the abandoned cafe with his brothers, after their meeting with this, Batman and… her. She had said his eyes were pretty. No way she actually meant it. Not with eyes like hers. They were… Leo did not know how to describe them… deep? Colorful? Lively? Filled with emotion-, oh this is how he ended up zoning out in the first place.

Leo was once again pulled out of his thoughts, as Raph started yelling about how stupid it was to use half an hour to google something he could have guessed in seconds.

“I’ve read rumors about a supernatural bat creature in Gotham, but I assumed that he was an urban legend, or that he was a mutant like us”, Donnie said deeply fascinated.

“That guy was definitely human”, Leo finally spoke. “And I think his super natural powers are just his gadgets. Anything about the girl?” Leo could see Raph facepalm out of the corner of his eye.

“Nothing”, Donnie said. “Only stuff about this Batman, or whatever he is”. Why did that pull down on Leo’s mood? No information about her at all?

“We already know what he is!” Mikey was practically dancing at the whiteboard. “He’s awesome!... Unless he’s a bad guy… That would make him… 40% less awesome”. Leo could already tell by the look on Raph’s face that he wanted to punch their little brother all the way back to New York.

“No one knows his motives, but it does appear that he only attacks criminals”, Donnie continued. “Especially this clown guy”.

“So he wears a Dracula costume and punches clowns. Who cares?!”, yelled Raph. “The dirtbag stole my sai!”

“Dracula costume? What kind of Dracula movies have you been watching?”, Donnie muttered.

“Is that why that girl hang around him?!”, Mikey yelled from his whiteboard, jumping with the same enthusiasm he had shown ever since they arrived in Gotham. “He has bitten her and now she is under his control? This city just gets better and better!”

“I don’t think so Mikey. She did say Leo had pretty eyes”, Donnie said. “Hypothetically, I don’t think a human under vampire control would say that. I actually don’t even think vampires in fiction can control people like that…”

Leo already hated this conversation.

“Look all I’m saying is Shredder stole the ooz from TCRI and came to Gotham, we know he’s been working with a new partner, right? It’s gotta be this bat creep and that Leo loving sidekick he has around”, Raph said, exasperated.

Leo remained unmoving with his arms crossed, but the mentioning of the girl made something move in his stomach.

“I’m not so sure”, Leo said. “The way they fought, avoiding lethal blows. They wanted to figure us out. Like a detective".

“She wanted to figure you out”, Raph mumbled, just loud enough for Leo to hear it. Leo would have spoken up, and Mikey not done it first.

“Okay bros. I broke it down”, he said, pointing to his drawings on the whiteboard. “Awesome: Little bat throwing things, cool car, sweet hat, Leo’s first girlfriend. Not awesome: Kicked our butts, may be evil, mean voice, Leo’s first heartbreak”.

“Either way”, Leo broke in, before giving his brothers any chance to add on to Mikey’s whiteboard Batman and sidekick breakdown. “After Wayne Enterprises, we have no idea where the Foot will be next. The Batman is our only lead”.

Donnie nodded. “Whether friend or foe, he and his sidekick was at the scene of the crime. And if you give me a minute, I think I’ve gotten an idea”.

---

“I was right outside!” you yelled like a spoiled child, waving your arms in the air, while Batman carefully looked at the magnifying glass in front of him, a sample he had taken from the sai laying in the little glass tray. “I did nothing but watch those metahumans kick Penguin’s butt! I could have helped you!”

“I did not need help”, Batman said, stoic as he always was when wearing that mask. “I had it under control”.

“That blood in your mouth said otherwise”, you sighed leaning against the deck next to you. This man was stubborn and you knew it. It was no use fighting him on his opinions, as it would be a losing battle for anyone except him.

You heard the familiar sound of a grappling against metal, and saw as Batgirl made her way out of the air vent.

“Heard on the scanner that the police took in some of Penguin’s men. Said they were jumped by four crazy frogs. I assume those were my lizard guys”, she said.

“Your lizard guys are strange”, you told Batgirl.

“They are turtles”, Batman said, pressing keys on the computer keyboard. “And the DNA on this weapon suggests they were mutated by an outside agent”.

“Mutant ninja turtles”. You raised a brow. “And me who thought Gotham couldn’t get any stranger”.

“The technology the ninjas have already stolen could be used to refine a mutagen like that”, Batgirl noted. “But why?”

“The cloud-seeder is the last piece of the puzzle. Which is why I had to move it to a secure location outside of Gotham”.

“I really wished you guys brought me in on this!”, Batgirl said. “I mean I saw the monsters first. It’s my case”.

“And pass up the opportunity to watch them swordfight Penguin later in the future? No way! I had front seat tickets!”

“There were too many unknowns. You could have gotten hurt. Both of you”. Batman turned his attention towards you. “You have to be more careful, (Y/N)”.

“What do you mean? I was beating that blue one pretty good”.

“Yet you didn’t notice the red one almost tapped you from the back”.

You felt a movement in your stomach and cold run down your back, yet your face started to feel hot. You did not notice at all. When would that have happened?... How long did you look into those blue eyes? Did the red one see an opening, only for Batman to save you, while you were being engulfed in a mutant turtle’s eyes, not noticing the world around you?

“N- no, I didn’t”.

“No, and you’ll have to work on that before I start calling you for backup”. Feedback from Batman always sounded harsh. And it did make you feel self conscious. But when it came to fighting alongside Batman, it was a matter of life and death. “In the meantime”, Batman continued, before you could dig too deep into your own feelings. “I’ll need to start working on a way to counteract the mutagen”. Batman stood for a moment. “And for that I could use both of your help”.

You could feel a big smile form on your face as Batgirl thanked the man you saw as your father figure. It wasn’t often that he actually asked for your help, or any help at all, making this a rare occasion, forever saved in your memory.

“All though”, Batgirl said as Batman looked closer at the sai he had gotten from the red turtle. “If those creatures left the Penguin's men tied up for the police, maybe I was wrong about them”.

“Maybe”, was all Batman had to say about that.

The drive back to the Batcave from Wayne Enterprise was silent. With you and Batgirl squished together in one seat, while Batman was driving the Batmobile. The silence that was so common when it came to Batman. It was a far cry from the Bruce Wayne that had taken you in as his own daughter. I was as if the moment he took the mask on, he became a different person. Not less loving than the Bruce Wayne you had given the title father, but less expressive and harder to read.

“Pretty eyes?”, Batman said, finally breaking the silence. Batgirl looked at you in confusion.

“It caught him off guard didn’t it? I’ll say it worked”, you said, playing with a smile on your lips. The bat stayed silent. You knew that silence. It was not an approving silence. You tried playing it off, talking about something else. “Did you notice how easily excited the orange one got? And how mad that red one was? They kind of remind me of Robin-”.

“Your brother is not comparable to a bunch of ninja turtles”.

“Well you might think that”, you mumbled, thinking of your pestilence of an adopted brother, that often caused chaos in your daily life, by sneaking around Wayne Manor. “He does look a little like them”.

Batgirl turned to Batman. “Care to explain?”

Batman sighed. “(H/N) and the blue mutant had a moment where she told him he had pretty eyes”.

“A moment?”, Batgirl asked, slightly shocked.

“A stare down”, you said, feeling your cheeks getting hot.

“A moment”, Batman corrected. “Even his attacks became softer after she told him”.

“No they didn’t!”

“They did. And so did yours”.

With your cheeks on fire, you crossed your arms and leaned back into the seat you shared with Batgirl. The amused smile she was trying to hide, made you wish the Batmobile would swallow you on the spot.

Why did that damn turtle have to have such pretty eyes?

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earthpleasures · 11 days

Text

FAVORITE !

Harry Potter x fem!reader

Summary: Your friends joked about how much of a 'Teacher's Pet' you're. You brushed them off and laughed because it meant nothing. However, when Mr. Potter became your DADA professor in your last year, it meant something.

Warnings: MDNI +18 / swearing, oral (f. and m. receiving), fingering, sir kink (is that even a kink?), impact play, degradation, praise, orgasm denial, unprotected p in v, creampie, age-gap (reader is 20, harry is 28), hair pulling, darkish!harry.

Word Count: 4k

A/N: to clarify, hogwarts sets in between age of 14-20. I don't wanna throw reader into a full grown man when she's barely an adult. Harry and Ginny are divorced. Because my girl Ginny doesn't deserve to be cheated on. I think no matter how toxic Harry would get, he wouldn't cheat on his partner. AND PLEASE DON'T FLIRT WITH YOUR TEACHERS IN REAL LIFE!

dividers by: @benkeibear

"darlin', can I be your favorite?

i'll be your girl, let you taste it"

- favorite by isabel larosa.

Y/n've always been a bit of a little teacher's pet. Never running to classes late, submitting her homework on time, sometimes even before time, helping professors carry their heavy books. It was a demeanor many of the teachers appreciated. And made her friends laugh; they found it hilarious how she was able to keep up with all of the schoolwork and social interactions with teachers.

Through the six years, she didn't care about all the jokes had been made about her behavior or the implications of a special bond with any of her professors by some of the jealous students. It was easier to let them be delusional and run their stupid minds than trying to fix their mistakes.

However, the seventh year was the year she began to hush the accusations. Because the possibility of accusations reflecting reality scared her.

And now, the sole source of her fears and lust was in front of the board, scratching something she didn't pay attention to at all.

Professor Potter was a danger to her reputation and view of classes.

When she heard rumors that Harry Potter, The Chosen One, would be teaching DADA classes after the departure of their former professor, she was enthusiastic. He fought against the dark himself, Lord Voldemort. Who would be better than him to teach about this class?

Mr Potter's first lesson was quite shocking for her. Throughout the photos and conversations of other students, she knew he was handsome. But knowing was a thing; seeing with her own two eyes was another thing.

His green eyes always seemed to be excited, alive, and fresh. His approach to classes could be called effective, according to many of the students. First, they learned the theoretical aspects of a creature or curse, or hex. Then, they practiced in various ways such as breaking a curse on an object and facing the said creature in a safe environment if the creature is found.

He dropped the chalk in his hand to his desk with a soft sound and dusted the powder of his skin. A creature was drawn on the board; it wasn't the most perfect drawing ever, but it was definitely recognizable.

“Okay, class. I don't want to see any books open in front of you. Your homework was to study for the next lesson. Let's see who did their homework properly. What's this creature called?”

Before Y/n could even fathom the answer, a female student jumped to answer his question. “A banshee.” Harry smiled at the girl, nodding his head in agreement. “That's correct, Ms. Brown. This creature is called ‘Banshee’. Banshee is a creature mostly affiliated with dark arts.” He rolled up his cream color shirt's sleeves and crossed his arms over his chest, hips laid against the desk.

“It’s native to Ireland and has a zombie-like appearance. But what makes them lethal?” His green eyes scanned the classroom, waiting for an answer. This time, she managed to act before other students. “Fatal scream. Hearing them might and most likely will kill.”

“Exactly. My advice is that if you don't have anything to defend yourself against a banshee, well, at least make sure to cover your ears firmly and run. Then maybe you can survive.”

His statement caused a peal of light laughter in class, which made him sigh in amusement. Merlin, he missed being a student.

“And lastly, what can you use to defeat a banshee?” Whole classroom fell into silence, everyone, at least the students studied beforehand, researching their memories for the correct response. Harry straightened his back and took the chalk from the wooden desk. “No answer? It's-”

“Laughter potion.”

Y/n's rushed voice interrupted his definement, her face satisfied from remembering the potion. Harry's eyebrow arched involuntarily, signaling the girl to continue. With newfound confidence to speak, she cleared her throat and gave him the answer he wanted.

“For it to be perfectly effective, the person who makes the potion must follow the rules word by word. Ingredients are spring water, alihotsy leaves, billywig wings, knarl quills, puffskein hair, horseradish powder, and laughter. We should consume the liquid if we face a banshee.”

Harry was amazed at her knowledge and strength of memory. “All correct, Ms. S/n. Someone actually studied, huh?” Other students let out grunts and complaints, some of them talking about how she's been like this for years and they're not even surprised.

And the lesson went on. Her eyes had never been focused on what he writes on the blackboard, but on his hands. They moved elegantly, a few scars scratching them. Her mind wandered on dangerous waters. They would gently caress her flesh and leave their prints on her thighs while his nose rubbed against her clit. Teeth almost puncturing her lower lip, she pressed her thighs together. I must stop, he's my teacher.

“In the next lesson, I want you to bring your own laughter potions since we will directly interact with a banshee. I talked to your potions professor, she will be helping you with the materials. And that being said, class, dismissed. With his last words, everyone gathered their books, feathers, and inkwells.

Y/n took a deep breath as she threw everything into her bag in a hurry. Leaving the classroom as soon as possible would be in her favor.

“Y/n.” A sweet, velvety voice caused her to stop her tracks. She gulped the agitation which was coursing through her whole body down. “Yes, Mr. Potter?” His hands were buried in pockets of his dress pants, veins on his forearms discernable. He smiled at her, making her stomach do literal flips.

“I would like to see you in my office after dinner, if the time fits you?” She almost jumped in to answer straight. However, she succeeded in remaining calm. “It does, but why? Did I do something wrong?” She was proud of herself regarding the fact her tone didn't falter.

“No, nothing like that. I wanted to discuss why you are so distracted in my classes.”

Her reason was as obvious as a shining sun but as embarrassing as it was obvious.

“Oh, okay. I will be there, sir.” His sweet smile twitched for a second, turning into something more malicious when the word ‘sir’ left her pretty lips.

“Good, see you later.”

Dinner went incredibly slow for her, thoughts of being alone with Professor Potter in a secluded room consumed her mind relentlessly. When dinner finally came to an end, her fast moves caught her friends’ attention. “Why are you in such a hurry, Y/n?” One of the girls asked her with a giggle, as her best friend, of course she knew why she was in a hurry.

Girl scoffed at her friend's playful question. “I am not in a hurry, Mindy. I just don't find keeping teachers waiting right.” Mindy rolled her eyes as she stab her fork to a piece of meat. “Right. But well, if I had a chance to be alone with Mr. Potter; girl, I would sprint to his office for more time.”

“Mindy! That's so inappropriate!” Her reproach earned a good laugh from her friends. She sighed as her cheeks flushed with excitement. Try as might, she couldn't help but think the same things as Mindy.

Her steps were quick while walking in the halls of Hogwarts. If goddamn Peeves catches her, it would be known to the whole school by tomorrow that she went to his office.

Standing in front of the wooden, dark brown door, she straightened her back and knocked. The tired voice of Mr. Potter invited her in.

“Ah, Y/n. Just on time, as usual. Come on. Take a seat.” He said, his hand pointing to the soft sofa against the wall. She took slow steps and fixed her skirt while sitting down. His face was drowned in traces of a busy day.

“So, you do your homework perfectly and on time, never late to my class, answering questions asked to you. Although, all answers given are studied beforehand, not learned from me. But, Ms. S/n, your constant act of staring at me blankly while I teach is bugging me greatly. Is there anything you would like to discuss with me? Why are you never paying proper attention to my lessons?”

She wet her dry lips with her tongue, trying to form the right argument against his accusations. Heat was rising in room, at least that was what Y/n felt. Or maybe it was her wild imagination again.

“I… I am not distracted, professor. I love your lessons. I mean, I love defense against dark arts. I give all my attention to what you're teaching and-” His not-convinced face made her cut her ramble before she could execute it properly.

“You don't believe me, do you?” Question was eager, desperate for approval from him. “No, Ms. Y/n. I think I don't.” He pressed his palms against the desk, rising up from his chair and walking towards the nervous girl.

“There’re a lot of things you're not capable of confessing. The things I learned through my efforts. Tell me, darling, is it really appropriate to fantasize about your teacher in his own class? Or to imagine his hands on your thighs?”

The blood froze in her veins. How did he even..?

“Legilimency.” Realization hit her like a slap before light gasp fled from her. “Mr. Potter! Legilimency is forbidden in Hogwarts, excluding the lessons. Why would you-”

A harsh grip on her chin.

“Don't fucking change the subject, Y/n. It's not like I've been famous for following stupid rules of Hogwarts. Also, I think it's also forbidden to feel any romantic or sexual attachment to your professors.” Her lips began to tremble, tears pricking to corners of her eyes like needles.

“I am so sorry, sir. I won't do it again. Please don't report me to the headmaster.” A sadistic smile crept on his beautiful face, strange look of hunger evident in his green eyes. “Have no worries, darling. I have no intention of letting McGonagall know your little ravings. In fact, it makes me quite effusive. Ever since my first night with my ex-wife, I haven't felt such a lust for someone.”

Her breath hitched. This was wrong, so wrong for so many reasons. He was her teacher, he was older than her, they were at a school and on…

Knots of lust began to solve in her belly. “This is so wrong, sir. We shouldn't…”

She couldn't finish it. Temptation of tabus has always been delicious to devour. And she was fucking tired of being the perfect, golden student. If other students were so adamant about making fun of her determination to succeed, maybe she could let a little loss.

So, she bit her lip to surpass the urge to deny his gesture of kneeling in front of her. His hands were cold and strong, just like illusions of her mind. They gripped the supple flesh of her thighs and gently pulled them apart. His eyes looked up to her for consent, satisfied breath falling from his lips when she approved him.

“Fuck, look how wet you're for me.” He licked his lips, almost feeling taste of her on the skin of his lips. “Such a needy whore for her teacher.” His thumb ran over the damp fabric of her blue panties. “And lacy? Bet you planned everything before you came here.” She opened her mouth to protest, only to earn a harsh blow on her inner thigh. Pain and pleasure were delicious enough to make her involuntarily close her thighs.

His hard grip already bruising her flesh, he pushed them apart. “If you're gonna act like a fucking brat, I will leave you like a teacher would.” She shook her head, tears already spilling from her rosy cheeks. “No, no! Please, I will behave!” He smirked with approval. “Sure you will.”

He was tired of teasing her, aching to taste her. She raised her hips off the sofa to allow him to take off her panties. His hand groped her tit over the white student shirt, the other hand climbing up to her mouth. She parted her lips, taking two digits into her mouth. Tongue enveloping the cold fingers, she coated them in her saliva as he ordered without words.

Wet muscle lolled out of his parted lips, trailing through her folds to collect the slick leaking out of her clenching hole. His spit-coated index and middle fingers slowly entered her entrance. “Mmmh, so fucking tasty, darling.”

His thumb circled on her bundle of nerves, long digits pumping in and out. “Clenching fucking tight around my fingers, you're not a virgin, are you? Acting all innocent and sweet in front of your friends, face flushing when someone mentions anything sexual.” His words fired something inside her stomach, coil building to resolve.

“How many boys have you fucked?” He hissed against her skin before his lips captured her clit between them. A yelp broke off from her hoarse throat. “Answer me!” Slap to her pussy caused one more scream to erupt from her.

“Three!” She whined breathlessly, sweat was trickling down from her eyebrow.

“Less than I thought.” He turned back to ravish her. His thumb never gave a break to her pearl, always rubbing and pinching it. His tongue swirled inside her velvety walls. Green eyes looked up to watch his favorite girl falling apart under his tongue. Such an appetizing sight.

“P-professor, too much, too much!” Her feet kicked marble floor, thighs closing around his head. Now that was a reaction pleased him, but, stupid slut didn't have any right to interfere with his dessert. “Shut the fuck up.” His palm collided with her rear, skin already reddening with impact. She nodded. Tears truly blurred her vision, Merlin, all she could feel was burning sensation on her cunt and coil on her stomach ready to snap at any moment.

How was it possible for his tongue to go this deep? She didn't know, feeling it was enough to shut down the thought.

Her hands flew to take hold on his brown strands, tugging at them with want. She had to feel him closer, if it was possible at this position. “G-gonna cum, H-Harry!” He raised his eyebrows, withdrawing from her pulsating core. “I don't remember allowing you to call me ‘Harry'?” She whined when her pussy lost the feeling of his mouth and digits on it. She was fucking close, just a lick away from cumming and he cruelly didn't let her.

“Are we really arguing this?” She propped herself on her elbows, pouty face making Harry more annoyed than before. He didn't think as his hand pulled her shirt, buttons flying around when thin white fabric ripped open. “Keep being a fuckin’ brat, Y/n. Keep being a bitch. And I will fuck you like one.”

His warning made no influence on keeping her tame. “I am not so sure, Harry. Do you even have any strength left to fuck properly, old man?”

His hand was raised to collide with her cheek. Sting was real as it was turning on. A cold smile replaced his angry expression. “Is that so, darling? Then you wouldn't mind getting on your knees?” She swallowed the lump sitting on her throat. He was scarier when he was calm.

“No…”

“No what?”

“No, sir.”

He sat on the couch as she stood up, her knees almost buckled beneath her. Floor was cold but she didn't mind. If her favorite professor requested something from her, she must oblige.

Her hands were eager to please. She first undid his belt, then button of his pants. Even under the fabric, it was big, the stretch would be painful and ecstatic. She palmed it, veins teased skin inside her hand. Her mouth watered at the sight.

Her fingers hooked around the elastic of his boxers, pulling them down with his help, black pants pooled around his ankles. Not wanting a second, she wrapped her hand to his cock. While stroking him, her tongue lapped at the bead of precum accumulated on the tip. He hissed, his hand fisted strands of her hair. “No teasing, Y/n. You got on my nerves enough.” She swallowed a shameless moan when his fingers tugged at her strands. All she did was to nod and act like the pretty doll he wanted her to be.

“Have you ever given head before?” He asked not out of bitterness, but curiosity. “I haven't, sir.” Face softening as a reaction, he reached down to cup her chin. Bending forward, his lips softly pressed against hers as she steadied herself by resting her hands on the corner of the sofa. His tongue tasted like whiskey and her juices. He must have drank before she came to his office.

Needless to say, he tilted his head to get a better angle. Everything was vivid, even the dust falling on her skin. Kiss was sloppier than most of the kisses she shared with boys, but it felt better, more intimate than all of them. Maybe it was Harry, the way he kissed her. Or, maybe it was thrill of an illicit act. Either way, she didn't care.

“I will teach you, darling.”

Her ragged breath caressed the inside of his thighs. He clenched his jaw to not whimper, not yet at least.

“Start by stroking it. Mmm... Just like that.” Her eyes never left his, checking if she was doing well. His flushed cheeks and parted lips gave her the answer she was looking for. “You can run your tongue on it.” She did as she was told. Taste of his skin made her whimper in delight. Fuck, why wait this long? How hard could it be to suck a cock?

“Uh, uh. No need to rush.” He pulled her away when she attempted to take him directly. “Suck the tip first.” Her tongue ran on the reddish tip as she kept stroking him, lips sealing around him. She bobbed her head so slightly, inside of her mouth was burning to go further.

“Good girl. Now take it slowly.” A low grunt left his throat as she eagerly went down on him. She began to move her head up and down, taking all she could. Her hand never left the parts her mouth couldn't reach unattended.

“Shit. Are you sure it's your first time?” She just batted her eyelashes at him, of course it was. She wouldn't lie to him. “Then you have a very capable mouth, love, I must admit it.” He hardly laughed, working on making the needy whines die down on his throat. Sure she was good, but it wasn't a reason to stroke her ego.

“Shh, relax your throat, I don't want you to have an irritated throat afterward.” Easy for him to say. However, the action itself wasn't that much of an easy task. According to her friends, hollowing her cheeks would've made it possible to take a cock deeper.

His hips jerked when his tip hit the back of her throat. Finally, a pathetic whimper escaped the professor's lips. She was proud of the lascivious scene her mouth created.

Her palms pressed on his knees as he pushed his hips up, cock relentlessly hammering to her mouth, saliva was leaking from the corner of her lips. He tugged at her scalp, forcing her to back off from his cock. When he let her go, she gasped for air. Her lungs were screaming for some oxygen. Mix of spit and precum were dripping down to bare chest.

“I don't want to cum into your throat. It would be such a waste.”

She followed his wordless instructions, laying flat on her back against soft crimson cushions. He towered over her bare body for a few seconds, taking in the beautiful sight. Leaning forward, his lips attached to the crook of her neck, leaving his shades of purple marks. Tip of his dick pressed against her clit. Her act of impatiently bucking her hips was adorable, depravement of youth, he thought.

He rolled his hips. At first it felt impossible to fit in. “It won't fit!” Despite her protests, she didn't resist or shove him away. He closed his eyes as their lips met again. They both tasted like each other, like a forbidden fruit. If Eve and Adam saw them, they would've known what real pleasure is, how it looks.

She could swear a fire was striking on her core. The flames were swallowing her remaining sanity and dragging her into the abyss, this was the only way to describe how he felt inside her.

“Goddamn tight, your cunt is basically suffocating my cock, darling.” He spoke through gritted teeth, her slippy walls enveloping him blissfully. Tears trickled down from her temples as she threw her head back. Their hips collided, he was fully sheathed in. His moves were languid and intimate at first, making sure to give time to her so that she can adjust his size.

“M-move faster. Ple… please, sir.” And so he did, because his pretty girl asked him so nicely. Her world was shaking as his cock practically hammering inside of her. Her knees were pressed against her chest as he mouthed at her tit, pert bud crushed between his teeth. He rolled his hips delightly, stretching her to her limits. It felt just so right and flawless with the way his cock fit in her cunt.

Pulling away until he was fully out of her, he smirked at her needy moans. His hips snapped so sudden that she let out a squeak. He caught her hand and brought it to her belly. “Feels so good, huh? Can't even do anything but moan, just like a cockdrunk whore.” He let go of her legs, letting them go down from her chest. He propped one of them around his waist to reach deeper. And for a few seconds, he didn't move.

“W-what? No, no, no. Don't s-stop!” She cried out when he stayed still. He was so cruel that she wanted to slap him. “How insatiable and discourteous…” He mumbled with a shaming tone. However, it was hard for him to keep this position too. So he moved.

Her hands desperately clung to his back, scratching the pale skin. He has never been a masochist but shit, he would let her scratch his back like this for hours.

Her walls began to tighten around him, he was ripping the orgasm out of her he refused to give then. “So close, so close,, s-sir!” Her words were almost inaudible, his hand wrapped around her neck as he pressed his lips against her harshly. With the final snap, he finally exploded inside of her pussy, ropes of cums filling her to the brim as she came down from her own high.

Pair were sweaty and breathless, she was coming to her senses, brain calculating consequences of their actions after his head fell upon her chest. He still hasn't pulled out, refusing to do so. “Y/n, y/n… I could stay inside you forever… My favorite girl…” He placed a gentle kiss between her breasts before pulling out of her. “But we don't have that much time.”

She was too tired to move or even to speak. However a few words managed to find their destination out of her lips. “What happens now..?” Her sentence made him pause. “What happens now?” He repeated. “This stays between us, Y/n. Only us. And if I ever see you with a boy again, I won't be so nice about it. Got it?”

She nodded.

“Good. I will take care of you, it's not like you can move. Oh well, I guess I was a little bit hard on you.” She furrowed.

“A little bit huh?” He chuckled at her complaint. “Anyways, let's get you clean and fresh, darling. Don't worry, I will report to McGonagall that you had a very bad attack and needed assistance.” She pouted. “But will she believe you?”

He smiled, not a charming or a warm smile.

“She always does, love.”

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #harry potter smut #harry potter fic #j.k. rowling #teacher x student

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moonpetrichors-blog · 1 year

Note

hi lovey 🫶 i was thinking about another lo’ak idea for a request and this is what i came up with! so as we know, the sully family had to learn sign language while living with the metkayina clan.. so i was thinking the reader would be metkayina and would take it upon themself to help teach them (at this time the sully’s know certain phrases) and lo’ak is drawn to the reader and asks for private lessons but in actuality he’s pretty good with signing so the reader is like “ur already pretty good but ig so 🤷” and in that lesson lo’ak kind of makes his feelings clear and asks to learn how to say something like “you’re ethereal” and once he learns, he signs it to the reader? idk i just love how you write lo’ak so i just thought of anything really 🤭

🦕

Teach Me

Tags: Lo'ak x Metkayina!Reader, Oneshot, Fem!Reader, Fluff, Private Tutor, Crush Blush, They’re Both Oblivious, Shy Reader

Warnings: None

You caught the eye of Jake Sully’s second son, and he has made it a point to try and woo you. When you try and teach his family the way your clan communicates underwater, he asks for private lessons, knowing full well he has already excelled in sign language far beyond his siblings. A few more lessons couldn’t hurt, right?

Your requests are always such a delight to see :) Lo’ak tryna finesse the reader into private tutoring sessions just to spend time with them is such a Lo’ak thing to do lol ALSO YOU’LL NOTICE THAT IVE TAKEN A LIKING TO ADDING A BONUS TO THESE

* ˚ ✦ 1453 Words • Read below the cut

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [05/01/23] ❞

Ever since the Sully family arrived at your doorstep seeking asylum, your father, Tonowari, had entrusted you with teaching the children your ways so that they were not entirely useless.

You did not appear to mind. When you locked eyes with Toruk Makto's youngest son, he captivated you. He was considerably different from your people, with golden eyes, darker skin, and even being a half dream walker! It was alluring, even if your brother didn't find Lo'ak's unique traits as attractive as you did.

You brushed your burgeoning feelings aside so you could do an excellent job of showing him your ways of life. Tsireya, your sister, had previously taught the Sullys about breathing techniques and diving, but you still stepped in whenever you could. You would've been more involved in the lessons if you weren't so timid around Lo'ak.

He figured you didn't like him as much as he liked you, which stung a little. However, that did not deter him. No, he was determined to get your love! (Little did he know.)

During one of your lessons with Tsireya and the Sullys, you were discussing how you employed sign language to communicate underwater. Of course, you were as far away from Lo'ak as possible to avoid becoming a blundering fool.

The Sullys certainly understood a few basic phrases, but you thought it would be incredibly beneficial in the long run if they knew it fluently because it could save their lives one day. You never know what sea creature you'll have to converse with!

By the end of the lesson, you were eager to get out of the water and rush home so you wouldn't have to interact with Lo'ak; you couldn't stop stuttering whenever you were near him! Eywa, on the other hand, had other plans for you.

Lo'ak softly tapped on your shoulder before you could depart, and you could already feel the tips of your ears burn from the contact. Lo'ak didn't notice, but that didn't matter because he was plotting something. One that he believed was brilliant.

He smiled at you. God, his smile was lethal. “Can I get more lessons with you? I need to work on my sign language a bit more.”

He scratched the nape of his neck shyly, clearly hoping for you to say yes.

You sighed, unable to say no when it’s him. “Okay, sure. We can do some private lessons aside from the main ones.”

Lo'ak cheered inside his head. What you didn't know was that he was already pretty proficient in sign language, and that his request for additional lessons was only a pretext to spend more time with you. Others called that manipulation, he called it chasing his dreams.

...

It was difficult for you to concentrate on teaching him at first. He was so attentive to everything you said that it made you feel so self-conscious! You'd take notice to the way he looked with his hair down, or how mesmerizing his eyes were every time you tried to teach him new terms. You could lose yourself in them for hours.

Snap out of it!

You'd think he was aware of the influence he had on you, because every time you'd lose concentration from gazing at him, he'd simply smile. Maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you, but you swore his cheeks reddened when you stared at him. What was he blushing about? He's the one who makes direct eye contact with you every time you speak!

...

You felt foolish. You were foolish.

After a few days, you realised Lo'ak had duped you into thinking he needed the extra support. In your opinion, his acting skills when feigning to not understand what a phrase meant were atrocious. When you confronted him with the fact that he was already pretty fluent, he sulked.

“I’m still not sure if I’m doing it right, though. Just a few more lessons, pleaase?”

He was going to be the death of you. “You’re already pretty good, but I guess it won’t hurt to help build your confidence more.”

Lo’ak grinned, but you could feel your palms getting sweaty at even the mere thought of having prolonged interactions with him.

...

Here you were, sitting on the beach with Lo’ak as he manipulated you into weeks worth of lessons with his stupidly gorgeous puppy dog eyes. Again.

You improved your interactions with him, this time concealing the effect he had on you. You shook your head, ignoring those wandering thoughts and concentrated on his lesson.

“Okay, show me something you’ve learned.”

Lo’ak beamed, and signed with his hands, “Y/N, I want you.”

Okay, you lied. You certainly did not grasp the capacity to conceal his effect on you. He had this smug look on his face once you registered what he had signed, while you fanned your heated cheeks, claiming it was simply the weather. You concluded he was having difficulty asking for something since 'I want you' sounded a little broken.

Yeah, that’s all there is to it.

You laughed nervously. “You definitely still need to work on your sign language. You didn’t even finish your phrase!”

Lo'ak grumbled. From your perspective , it appeared that he did so because he did not accurately sign what he meant to express. But really, Lo'ak was particularly annoyed because you didn't pick up on his blatant hint.

He recollected himself. “Okay, how about this. How do I say you’re ethereal?”

Compliments. That’s a new one. Nonetheless, you showed him how to sign it.

“You’re ethereal is a little bit hard though, so you’d need a bit of practice with the hand movements for that.”

Lo’ak nodded, very focused on the motions of your fingers.

...

You were disappointed to realise that this was your final private lesson with Lo'ak. You were standing near his marui, too indolent to enter the water. Lo'ak had finally mastered sign language, and you were overjoyed to know you were the reason for it. You requested him to show you some phrases right before you concluded your lesson to ensure he sounded like a true Metkayina.

“Okay. What’s something you’re confident you can say?”

Lo’ak was incredibly anxious. With shaky hands, he signed, “you’re ethereal, and I want you to be mine.”

If Eywa could read your thoughts, you wished she’d take a shovel and beat you six feet beneath the sand. Your cheeks were impossibly dark, and you knew what Lo’ak signed couldn’t have been a mistake. Not with those difficult hand movements.

Curse you for being so stupid. You chastised yourself in your mind for honestly thinking his sign language was broken weeks prior. His skills were perfect, you were just too oblivious to realize that he was saying that he wanted you!

Lo'ak sat there patiently, gazing at your immobilised form. His self-assurance was eroding as you sat there, unresponsive. You coughed sheepishly, your cheeks still blazing, before he could retract his statement.

“You’re ethereal too.”

He felt his entire body heat up. He was not expecting you to sign it back, and now you were both sitting there like startled morons, looking like you had been baking in the heat for hours. You were neither smooth nor subtle in your flirting.

“So you don’t hate me?”

That shook you out of your daze. “What?”

“It’s just that, before these lessons you avoided me all the time. I thought you didn’t like me back.”

Your jaw was on the floor. All shyness disappearing, you practically bellowing across the beach. “Since when? I’ve liked you for weeks!”

“Oh.”

Ensue silence.

Lo'ak had to conceal his visage due to the blush on his cheeks. He could try to hide his face from you, but he couldn't prevent his tail from swishing excitedly. You giggled at his reaction, but the embarrassment of how direct you were hit you a moment later.

You two exchanged glances before laughing at each other's expressions. Lo'ak inched closer to you, intending to plant a soft kiss against your heated cheeks.

You immediately swiveled your head to see what he was doing, and he kissed you on the lips by accident. Lo'ak felt like he was going to burst into flames, not intending to do that.

It was now your turn to bury your face in your palms, your heart practically bursting out of your chest. You couldn't believe what had just transpired!

Ah, young love.

Bonus!

“No. Fucking. Way.”

Jake screamed for his wife to come over. Neytiri ran quickly, abandoning her unfinished basket. Something terrible must’ve happened!

“What’s wrong?”

Jake wiped a tear away, dropping his binoculars. “Our son has finally become a man.”

Neytiri threw her basket at his head.

718 notes · View notes

missbunnybunny · 9 months

Text

🫧『𝕺𝖍 𝖜𝖍𝖔 𝖎𝖘 𝖘𝖍𝖊? 𝕬 𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞 𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖞』🫧

Tw: dark kink, unprotected sex, non-con, dark content, rough sex, bondage, kinky, breeding, praise, degradation.

A/n: If something is incorrect, please let me know. using Google Translate for Russian words. I simply put down what came to me and spell-checked it. I'm not sure whether it even makes sense or not but enjoy!

Note: I'm interested in seeing how good my writing is, therefore I'm giving it my all. I have high hopes, for this one. This is a long boy. Your meal has been served, it was my pleasure serving you all 🍽️🤵🏽‍♀️.

🎐𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝟐🎐

Oh, Who is she...

-Russia, Kubinka.-

The sky was a never-ending sea of white and grey, with no sight of the sun to sprinkle a sliver of sunshine as the snow gently fell to the earth, painting everything white as far as the eyes could see. People were spotted marching up and down with their warm jackets and hats, guns in hand, flawlessly matching one stride at a time. Not one man, hair, or step out of line, just as they were trained.

An automobile stopped in front of a large structure, the driver's door opened, and a hefty man crouched down and carefully exited the vehicle. Soon after, three more doors opened, and three guys came out of the car, closely followed by a lady. Her e/c eyes surveyed her surroundings as she expelled a little puff of air and watched it develop and dissipate, demonstrating how chilly it was outdoors.

The group entered the building and proceeded to a table; the woman sat on a couch a few meters away from the table, setting her weapon down. Her colleagues each pulled out a chair and sat. You gazed at them silently as you picked up the riffle you had placed down as you walked in, taking it into your hands and starting to disassemble it. You were cleaning the scope aimlessly when you were dragged out of your thoughts by someone calling out to you.

" Rusalka." He exclaimed. Rusalka a water spirit or a water fairy. She was frequently linked to the mythological concepts of a nymph or a mermaid. The term "Deadly but Beautiful" was given to you by your superiors. You liked the name Rusalki because she was a deadly dead creature and cursed ghost that resembled a young woman. Your countless enemies would hear your name before being struck down.

timid, helpless, and frail, some would say she was. But even the most beautiful flower may be toxic when needed. Judging a book by its cover would get you killed. You were nothing but skilled, powerful, and lethal.

"Yes, Captain Azhdaya." It signified dragon. He had a bulky physique. His face is studded with minor battle scars, except for the bigger ones. One on his left cheek a few meters from his lips and concluding just shy of his ear, a scar at the bridge of his nose, and a split on his lip. "Your location will be here," he says, pointing to a map as you stand to investigate.

"You will cover the team from this distance." He ended by tugging his finger in a direction. It was an excellent location with lots of trees and tall grass; blending in with an all-white outfit in an unending field of white snow would make it simple to conceal from the adversary and get a vantage point at the same time.

A misty memory

Leshy, the forest's guardian. His honey-brown eyes examined the chart, humming a tune under his breath as he took everything in. At 5"8, he was a few inches shorter than the captain.

Vodyanoy was discussing options that they might take advantage of. The hues of the woodland were reflected in the eyes. They were two colors, yet they were as enthralling as an unending expanse of trees and flowers. He was 3 inches shorter and had less muscular mass than Azhdaya, yet he was still a terrifying opponent to face in a fight.

Chuma and Leshy were the same height. He was a man with few words. But he was always in the mood for black humor jokes, making you both laugh and smile as the captain gazed on in fear. His eyes were clear and wonderfully polished blue proportions. He was a lovely soul, like your brother, even though you threatened to slam your foot up his ass for nearly getting killed.

You made your way to the table while reassembling your riffle. As you read the orders, your pupils narrowed. Objectives Destroy the English task force and safeguard the nuclear weapons in the ware home. Your hand reached for your hat, pulling it down slightly and readjusting it.

" Put on your armor and prepare your weapons. We depart at 0800 and expect to arrive by 1000." Azhdaya spoke up, dismissing you all from the briefing to prepare for the upcoming expedition.

You all walked out of the room and into your individual rooms. There would be no time to waste. Blood would be spilled tonight, and your squad would either win or die at the hands of the enemy.

A haunting face

The trip was uneventful. You all sat in the rear of the armored truck, silently double-checking your coms, gear, and weapons. Your seat was at the rear, and you were staring out the window idly. Watching as the colors of the night and the red glimmer of the tailgate blended together in one fast move before disappearing into the darkness. Only to pick up again.

You'd lost count of time, your attention only on the glittering lights in the night. It was lovely. Azhdaya was checking in with everyone to ensure that everything was in order. The squad represented family to him. The boys were like the sons had never had, and Rusalka, like the youngest, leave her alone, and she was going to destroy the world.

His gaze was drawn to the short figure in the rear, and he made a mental note to ensure she was mentally sound. She was threatening the guys, telling them she'd stick her pistol up their asses if they died on her.

The car came to a complete halt. "Rusalka, we're here." The person next to you spoke, Chuma patted your shoulder and stated. You blink and glance up at him, then nod your head, rise up, and grip the firearm close to your chest.

The expedition had begun; for better or worse, may you all return home.

Is she a lost embrace?

You and your riffle were hiding on a hill. A light coat of snow covered your body from head to toe. If someone looked in your direction, all they'd see is a mound of snow, plants, and trees.

They might see the glimmer of scope if they looked carefully enough.

Do you copy, Rusalka?- As a voice spoke up to you, you heard the communication link come alive. That was your captain - Yes, over. -You talked quietly and quietly so as not to draw attention to yourself.

If you detect any activity, alert us - He said, staring out the window, his figure masked by the night's darkness. The others wait in their respective holdings for any others to either fire or rethink their future movements.

It was completely quiet. You had no idea how much time had passed. More snow blanketed your body like a giant chilly blanket, completely immersing you beneath it. Your hands were numb from the cold, and you had to push yourself to remain motionless as little shivers and trembles brushed your skin.

Am I in love with just a theme?

From the looks of things, tonight was going to be unremarkable. Until you heard it, that is. Your ears picked up on the faint crunching sound. It was too big for a cat, too quiet for a fox, and too tall for a dog. It was a person, but you had to make certain it wasn't a civilian.

You adjusted your riffle slightly and focused your attention on the shadows you saw slipping away in the darkness. When you saw it, they were holding firearms and wearing protective gear. -Humans- were the words that came out of your mouth as you turned on the coms connection.

You observed three towering people headed toward the structure. One taller than the other, he wore a hood, another wore what seemed to be a skull mask, and finally, a man with a Mohawk? You hesitated briefly, resisting the impulse to chuckle quietly. You had to admit it suited him. Oh well, He was still the enemy.

Static came from your coms, and it quickly came back to life to instruct you. -headcount?- he gruffly asked you. - 3, sir.- You hurriedly spoke. - Keep a lookout two missing people. He advised you that there should be 5. You dropped your sight and examined your scope.

You gazed about the area for a while before seeing it. A person towards the front of the building, next to a shrub. - 4 shrubs at the entrance - You spoke as you gazed at the man you would have missed if you hadn't seen his little movement.

Or is Ayesha just a dream?

You were told to shoot as soon as they broke through the door. The instruction was to shoot to injure and, if necessary, to kill.

Something caught your attention. You didn't know what it was, but something was awry on the opposite side of the field. Was it the stillness, the swearing misleading figures appearing in your vision?

You couldn't rely on your vision. The darkness and shadows might generate illusions that will stymie your enthusiasm and your team's life. The door to the building burst open while your attention was elsewhere. It caught you off guard. You looked up immediately to see that they were entering the building.

They entered the building, permission to shoot.- You talked softly but rapidly. As you waited, your finger slowly fell to the trigger. - Granted-, that was all you needed to shoot at the figure as it slowly made its way inside.

You kept an eye out for any opportunities. You pulled the trigger when you saw it. The bullet sliced through the air as it approach its victim. His leg was struck. His blood had stained the snow underneath him.

A mystery

From then on, all hell had broken loose. Ghost talked on the coms after Soap was shot. When he informed his crew that bullets had been fired, their senses went into overdrive. König was ahead of the group, gun lifted, trigger finger on the trigger, ready to fire on the suspicious enemy.

Ghost was on the right, Soap was on the left, and Price was just behind them. Soap was hobbling a little, but the gunshot had not killed him. Ghost unlocked the doors and searched the rooms for any indication or sight of someone. The weapons were reported to be at the far end of the facility, according to the information.

A gunshot struck the side of König's skull, missing him by an inch. As soon as the doors leading to the weapon room opened. He and his men retreated hastily behind the door and the walls, firing back at the culprits.

Both sides were heavily armed. It could be heard over the coms as the sound of gunfire broke out in the air. Making the night more silent, quiet, and foreboding. After a while, everything was silent; neither the wind nor the crickets wanted to make an appearance. Sometimes silence was never a good thing.

Oh, who is she?

You waited with bated breath - Leshy and Chuma were shot - a voice came through. Vodyanoy was there. You exhaled a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding. You stood there watching as the man who had entered the building burst out the door.

You watched as the man with the Mohawk was assisted by a man wearing a helmet. The tallest of them all had the arm of the man in a skull mask over his shoulder. Their blood stained the snow with a brilliant scarlet tint.

That's when something occurred to you. - Vodyanoy, tell me where Azhdaya is. Unlike your normal calm and collected manner, you raised your voice. -The captain was shot in the abdomen.- As you received the news, your heart fell, throbbing and hurting. - I've already made the decision. But I require your presence.- You entered the building without hesitation, without caring if it would get you killed or if it was irresponsible.

The mission was successful, but at a high cost: everyone was severely hurt. The cost was cleared when the medical team came. Unfortunately, someone had to remain behind. You offered to remain behind because there wasn't much room in the truck, don't know how but it happened. Your team was against it, but you shot them down. You were the least harmed and would be hiding in one of the nearby hideouts.

Oh, who is she?

You arrived at one of the hideouts, an abandoned structure by a river. Your firearm was never far from your side or in your hands. Even though it was familiar ground, you could never relax your guard.

As you got closer to the building, you noticed a towering person. You'd seen him before. If you recall, he was the colonel on the other side of this combat field. You knew you could play the helpless citizen if you were simply charming to him. You could at the very least eliminate him and his squad.

You took a gamble knowing you were about to collide in this combat field unknown to him but not to you. He was tall, far taller than you would have anticipated. He towered over your commander. You choose to have some fun. You taunted him by messing with his thoughts. You become the night's shadow, the illusion that swirled in his unfocused eyes.

You observed him as he twisted and turned. Look to the right and left, up ahead and below. You chuckled a little, watching him feverishly search for you like a lost puppy. But you were disappointed since your spot had been snatched from you; you heard shouts and froze. The man in the skull mask exited the building beside the colonel. You made the decision to walk away from him. You locked eyes with him as he lifted his firearm and spoke harshly. " Get her."

A misty memory

You rushed out of there on your heels, seeking for a new hiding spot. You rushed through the deep forest, crouching low to avoid hitting a tree. You made the mistake of looking back and confronting death.

He was swiftly catching up with you. You ran and ran, and you appeared to have lost track of time, but one thing bothered you: they were both following after you, but when you looked around, you noticed the one with the skull mask.

You inhaled the frigid air, allowing it to enter your aching, anxious lungs. You proceeded to the abandoned building, taking in as much air as you could and watching for a while to be sure it was clear. You seek refuge in a dark area with access to the entrance and window.

You closed your eyes and lay back against the corner, rifle in hand, succumbing to tiredness and allowing sleep to overtake you. You were too sleepy to notice that your safe way was going to be your undoing.

A haunting face

As Ghost and König stood in front of the building König had seen you walk onto, it was late. Ghost had lost track of you, and the snow had made everything appear so familiar that he couldn't tell right from left. He waited until König returned, informing Ghost that he had discovered where you were hiding.

Now when they were standing in front of the building, Ghost crept inside quietly, not wanting you to flee. You being valuable to them since you know the ins and outs of the building. He creeps closer to the room, discovering you in a corner with a riffle in hand. Your head hung down, hiding your features. He eased you out of the corner.

He straddled your lap and took a knife from his thigh strap, pressing it to your throat. " You know, that's not nice. Everyone told you, you have a sexy waist." You voiced to him, as you looked him up and down, making eye contact, a little grin tugged at your lips.

Ghost's eyes narrow as he looks at you, moving his knife closer to your throat, a line of scarlet slipping from your slashed flesh. "I'm the one who asks the questions here." His tone was harsh and low. Sending shivers down your spine as his icy, almost lifeless eyes glared down at you.

You can feel his breath fan your face as he leans forward. You feel your cheeks get hot and flushed. Were you indeed roused by a masked guy riding your lap? Perhaps nothing is impossible in love and war.

Is she a lost embrace?

You heard a stir from behind you and tilted your head to see a tall man towering over the two of you. The moonlight behind him accentuated his silhouette. Huh? The lost puppy returned in search of his owner, you guessed. König kept staring into you quietly, observing your very move.

"as much as I would enjoy having you in my lap," you said to the masked man, carefully moving your hand, not revealing your plans for the following few seconds. "You've never said your name." You sweetly spoke, but they couldn't see it anyhow. Finally, make contact with your riffle and grip it tightly.

You heard him say, "König." His voice is deep and low, and just hearing it makes your stomach twist and spin. "Ghost," remarked the man next to you. "Rusalka," you say, raising your arm and smacking the riffle's bud into the ghost's face. Making him lose his equilibrium somewhat, providing you exactly the right amount of change.

König charged at you as Ghost was cradling his bloody nose. You couldn't feel his body as much as you wanted to. You turned and hurried out of the room you were in and into another. Will the mouse escape or will the cat devour the mouse?

I call her name

As you approached the front of the building, you could see the light at the end of the corridor. It was probably time to look for a new home, but unfortunately, like the cat that ate the canary, you were apprehended before you could safely fly away. Something heavy smacked your back, forcing the breath from your lungs in a huge gasp.

You're not sure how long you were out, but when you awoke, your wrists were bound behind your back and you were tied to a chair, your legs connected to the leg chair. "Well, aren't Kinky?" you said, glancing up at the two guys looking down at you. They look at you. Ghost approached you, his hands resting on your thighs. You could feel the marks framing the outline of his hands as he squeezed so hard.

"Since you don't want to behave, I'll teach you manners." Ghost spoke, harshly grading your chin. You felt hands on your legs before Ghost shoved it away. König knelt down and unfastened your legs. As König rose up and came to Ghost's side, you maintained eye contact with him.

Know that your thoughts were not going in circles. You noticed that it was cooler than usual. Looking down, you noticed your gear and jacket had vanished. Ghost came up behind you, untying your hands from the chair just to re-tie them. So you're not going to attempt anything.

Across an endless plain

Your face was smashed against the dirt floor in the blink of an eye, and your pants and underwear ripped off your waist as though a wild beast desired something more. Your cunt has been exposed to the stranger, Ghost. "You may scream all you want. It's just three of us here." As you felt something hard push against you, he groaned. "You want me to behave," you exhale, shifting your face to face him. "Make me," you spat in his face, you weren't going down that easy.

His cock pounding pierces your pussy lips and presses deep inside of you. Your eyes roll into your skull, erupting in a whining moan. You wept and pleaded in a high you'd never known, with each thrust driving your face further and harder into the floor, yet he never yielded. Instead, his muscular arms just held you in place until release arrived in the form of his sperm blasting forcefully into your womb. " Should've behaved." He talked as he stood, leaving your ass up on the floor, his cum flowing out of your pussy onto the floor.

In your haze, you noticed boots in front of you and looked up to see König staring down at you; you blinked up at him, blinking away the tears that had gathered in your eyes. From the fuck Ghost had given you. He lowered himself, stroking your cheek and brushing away some stray tears with his thumb. "We might let you go if you give us what we want." You forced your lips together tightly, not making a single sound. Looking him straight in the eyes.

She'll answer me

"She's a lot more stubborn than we thought, König." Ghost declared as he picked you up by your tide hands and watched your legs try to remain erect. Ghost's knife ripped your shirt, tearing it apart in front of their greedy gaze. His left hand touched your face as he raised his mask, tilting it so he could passionately kiss you. You trembled as an enormous chilly hand clutched your chest, his right hand still firmly gripping your roped-tied hands.

Squeezing and licking your nipples like a ravenous starving man. König sucked and bit, leaving a trail of vibrant markings from your chest to your stomach and then to your core. While pounding two of his enormous thick fingers into you, he spreads your lips while kissing and relentlessly sucking your clit.

Your thoughts were racing with pleasure and overstimulation. Your lips were still being taken. You fell undone under them, Ghost's ravenous lips snatched the chances to breathe. König sipped your juices, humming to himself as if it were his sole source of relief for his parched throat. As he drank his fill, you felt the vibration against your pussy, and he drew away, licking his lips and letting his hood fall back down his face. His gaze fixed on your crumbling body.

Ghost, you let go, and you fall to the floor, your legs too weak to support you." It appears that we will have to break her." You didn't know who said it since you were too fucked up to notice or care, "Bite me." Your response was more of a drunken rambling than confidently articulated.

Wherever she may be

You became crushed between Ghost and König, and König pulled his hood up and pushed your chin up for him, tenderly kissing you and caressing your hair. While ghosts' hands raced across your body, searching every inch until nothing remained untouched by his fingers.

You could feel König's cock throbbing and dripping little pearls of cum against your tummy. Your body was drawn up until you were hovering above his quivering, gushing tip. As he split you in two, your arms swiftly curled around his neck, covering your face in his chest.

König drove himself more and deeper inside you, and with each inch, you gasped for breath. "That's a good girl…" He praised you, and you let out a tiny curse in your native tongue, feeling as though his words had kindled a fire within you. Soon after, his base kissed your cunt's lips. He let you relax for a few moments before grabbing your supple hips. It began slowly and steadily until you felt something hard press against your ass.

You totally filled König and Ghost in one fast motion. They began to thrust; being full of könig was one thing. But being filled by them both over and over again had you groaning and moaning like the slut you were for them. Every vein pressed against your walls as they gently stretched you out, shaping you to the shape of their dicks with each deep push. Bouncing you up and down, hitting every deep area that had you seeing stars. Fuck, the entire cosmos.

Oh, who is she?

König was concerned that he would inflict too much harm on you. After all, you were so little compared to him and Ghost. Nevertheless, he was losing control of himself, his eyesight obscured by the need to fill you with his seed. His head and judgment, his cock longing for release. König held you to his chest. Something about the whole event you excited in a deep primal lust, a never-ending hunger.

The only thing your lust-filled thoughts wanted right now was to be taken from behind and in front by two huge beasts like them. The lack of König's cock was already causing your insides to ache for him, and you whined for him. König whispered into your ear as he gripped a fistful of your hair, his hot breath thick on your neck. "mine! your fucking mine." He hissed low and commandingly. how you loved it, squeezing them tighter.

In one seamless stroke, könig sheathed himself into you up to the hilt, one hand on your neck and the other securely gripping your hip. The loud yell that the movement elicited from you was addictive in and of itself. They couldn't get enough of you, making an obscene squelching sound as König and Ghost brutally pounded their big cock as if you'd vanish if they didn't.

They grunted deep animalistic grunts as they pushed into your swelling pussy and ass, and you swallowed them in and contracted around them like there was no tomorrow. Not wanting to give up the mind-bending bliss.

A misty memory

"дa да да да" [yes⁴] You screamed in pleasure, feeling your body tense and quiver every time König's balls made contact with your clit and his head pressed against your womb. " я кончу! чувствую себя так хорошо. заполните меня, пожалуйста." [am gonna cum! feel so good. fill me up, please.] You mumbled in your native tongue, head clouded with pure raw lust.

Their ears were filled with your moans. They totally engulfed themselves in you, with König pushing all of himself past your lips and his head pressing against your cervix. They didn't care about the lew sounds, popping in and out of you. Not with them making you feel so amazing. " I'm-A-AHHHHH!" You could feel his cock's head pushing in and out faster and harder, a couple of thrusts of their hips. With a loud cry that tore itself straight out of your lungs, you spammed and squeezed around them.

You'd never experienced anything like this in your life, and it rocked you to your core. Underneath them, you were a trembling mess. Squeezing around them, feeling you tighten and flutter, was enough to induce them to cum inside you.

His hips were forced against you, and his cock was shoved in as far as it could go. As he poured hot ropes of sperm into your womb, his veins surged and his skull flashed. They were coming inside of you in ropes and ropes, and you were breathing heavily. Their cocks beat rhythmically with your constrictions, their testicles contracting with each spurt of come blasted into your small pussy and tight ass. There was so much of it that it started to pour out of you and onto the floor.

A haunting face

You were in ecstasy. You were warm, full, secure, and safe. You'd just had the most exquisite fuck of your life by the same enemy you were supposed to kill, and they were remaining inside of you as if they'd die pulled out of you. You've never felt more at home than right now, beneath both of them. You turned your head and kissed his cheek, despite his hood covering it.

You awoke in the middle of them, it was still dark, König's hand was wrapped around your waist, while Ghost's hand was wrapped around your thigh. You gradually broke free from their grip. You discovered your gun and jacket. You hand no pants or underwear, much to your dismay. Just a jacket, some equipment, boots, a hat, and socks. You gazed at the two men, your hat partially covering your face, but it wasn't gonna work. Ghost wouldn't mind if you searched through his belongings; after some searching, you discovered what you were seeking.

You discovered his balaclava. It was just like his. Everything was painted on the skull. His eyelashes were virtually white, and it was rather sad that your enjoyment had come to an end while admiring their loveliness. Because of obvious reasons,-Rusalka, why is your line off?- The person on the other end of the telephone chastises you. - ну да xpн, Vodyanoy.- [oh fuck off].

Vodyanoy placed his palm over his heart and added, -The love, am touched. I got you what you asked for.- He chuckled, knowing you had a scowl on your face. He was the one person you could contact and ask him to deliver your clothing with no questions asked.

Is she a lost embrace?

You did take some Vodyanoy and Leshy, as well as Chuma on occasion. They accompanied you when you went shopping for new clothing and even underwear; someone had to carry your luggage, and it wasn't going to be you. Vodyanoy was the only one who knew your exact measurements; it was actually rather amusing. He looked like a lost child the first time he went to the store to assist you pick out new clothes.

You could hear tires crunching on the snow as you walked away from the building. " I finally tracked you down. Get your ass in the car before you freeze. Short bitch." He chastised you like a child caught sneaking a cookie when they weren't meant to. As you move to the rear, you give him the middle finger.

You were finally warmed up again after changing your clothing. "Sooo… What fucked you over?" said Vodyanoy as he drove in silence. He wonders if the cold has finally caused you to lose it and go around nude. "As if you'd know." If only he knew, you retorted cynically. You snicker that he could be having a heart attack.

Somewhere across the sea of time

It was approximately 0700 when you arrived at the base. You could still feel hot ropes trickling down your leg. You were sore. Your entire body felt like it was made of cement, weighing you down. You were about to walk into your room, but life doesn't work that way.

The captain wanted to visit you in order to obtain an incident report. "Rusalka, what has happened to your face?" He inquired. Remembering the vivid moment when Ghost slutted you out on his dick and banged your face into the floor."Nothing, sir," you say as you avoid eye contact, "are your injuries better?" You shifted the topic on which he indulged.

You were surprised to learn that the higher-ups were relocating the nuclear weapons and reassigning the personnel in charge of them. You were disappointed, which meant you wouldn't be seeing them again.

"Rusalka, I was wondering where you found that?" Azhdaya inquired, pointing to his face to indicate what he meant. Oh, you reasoned. Ghost's balaclava, which you stole. "In an abandoned building. I like it," you stated casually while caressing it. It was silky and smelled like tea and dark wood. You were reminded of him, but you wouldn't tell them the truth. A tiny white lie will not harm.

You were curious whether Ghost had worn it before you stole it from him. You miss his touch, and you consider yourself addicted to them.

A love immortal such as mine

Ghost and König awoke at 0800 in the morning. He gazed about, feeling the lack of warm skin underneath him. König sprung to his feet, having awoken from an abrupt shift next to his body. He two saw someone was missing, and you were no longer there.

Everything about you had vanished, even your weapon and ripped clothes. It was almost as if you were a ghost that appeared for one night of pleasure just to vanish into the darkness. They went around the building but couldn't find anything, which is when he discovered it.

There was something in his thigh pocket, where his regular skull balaclava would be. It was a white hat. The hat that you wore when they discovered you sleeping in the corner. He investigated for any other missing items and discovered that his knife had also vanished.

As König and Ghost stood there grabbing and repairing their equipment, Ghost stated, " Clever girl." His dark eyes narrowed as he glanced at the hat he clutched in his fingers. If he gets his hands on you again, he'll tie you up and imprison you in his house like an animal.

Will come to me

Soon after, König and Ghost were picked up and joined the others. Price enquired as to why they had split up, but Ghost disregarded the question by adding, "We were surveying that area when a storm caught us." He side-eyed könig who nodded in agreement.

When they landed in England, the Price informed them that their plans had been altered by higher-ups. Laswell informed them that the weapons had been relocated to an unidentified location. And that, for the time being, they would do other things until they figured out where.

König's shoulders fell, and Ghost remained cool on the outside, but he was in turmoil on the inside. It suggested that there was a little chance they'd stumble across you on the battlefield. König hoped to see you again, to feel your delicate skin, and to hear your whimper as you unraveled. He urgently needed you, your cunt, all of you.

Ghost was disappointed because he hadn't completed educating you who was in control. And that you were nothing more than his to break and train as he saw fit.

Eternally

You'd met the two men a month ago. To say you missed them would be an understatement; you were ravenous for them to break you, make you their slave for their cock, to give you pleasure. But you'd never say it to their faces. You enjoyed the sight in their eyes when they believed they could control you, and you liked being controlled by them. win-win.

You submitted to training, gaining new skills and experiences. You even earned your nursing license. You had a good time mocking Chuma for getting into problems due to Leshy and Vodyanoy. He was like the group's older brother… getting hurt for the stupid things his younger siblings did.

Azhdaya summoned you to his office. You were aware of the situation. You submitted your application for a move in two years. You adored your team, but you felt it was time to go out to new waters.

"Are you sure?" Azhdaya asks, setting the papers down and staring at you. looking for any signs of unpleasant emotion on your face. "Yes, Sir." You formed a little smile on your face and nodded. " Alright. " He sighed and continued to talk to you.

Immortal she

It had taken two years, but the day had finally come. Tomorrow was your departure day from Russia for your new home base. The crew surprised you with a farewell party. Providing you with goodies that you may not find in your new home.

Leshy and Vodyanoy were sobbing uncontrollably. Leshy shakes you back and forth, imploring you, or rather pleading with you, to stay with him. Vodyanoy clutched your leg as if he were a kid, imploring you not to leave him alone with Leshy, and explaining that Leshy was this and that. You stroked his hair. You could have been the one who lost a screw, but Leshy was missing the box and the lock that held it in place.

You ate and drank as if there was no tomorrow. They dropped you off at the airport the following day. giving you a hugs and best wishes. - The flight from Moscow, Russia, to London, England, is about to board.- The announcement was made over the speakers.

König tapped his foot nervously. Ghost stared at him as he waited in line with his other 141 task members, giving him a supportive nod. They didn't know anything about the newcomer. They were meeting them for the first time today.

A vehicle was spotted approaching the base and slowing down before completely halting. The door opens, and a figure walks out, their h/c hair gently swinging in the breeze that blows past the base. They exchanged handshakes with Price.

When könig and Ghost turned around, they could only gaze as your s/c skin sparkled in the sunshine. The way your h/c hair complemented and framed your face, making you appear ethereal. Most importantly, the sunbeams in your eyes, causing them to glitter like a Dimond on exhibit for its beauty.

Return to me

"прывітaнне, я Русалка. It's a pleasure to meet you, " [Hello, my name is Rusalka.] You spoke quietly, offering your hand, never breaking eye contact with Ghost and König as you smiled at them. They knew, and you knew it wasn’t your first encounter with them.

To be continued......Maybe, if people like it.

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