#his chest hair patch is one of my favorite parts of his piece if i may say so myself! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yourbustedkneecaps · 10 months

Text

here’s another piece of shit for your entertainment (ft: my favorite dickwad) and no i don’t go through these for formatting, that’s ao3 exclusive lmao

*do not repost*

fuck, i’m lonely

After being thrown through the portal with the kids, Philip (now a partial amnesiac) has to navigate his new life in the Human Realm. With his arm severely hurt and his memories a mess, he tries his best.

In return for not causing trouble upon coming back, God gives him a gift.

Thick red coiled around his arm as it bubbled from the fresh wound, tracing tears down to his elbow. His hand was caught on something above him, and if it weren’t for the fact his head was rolling and mind drowning, he would’ve looked up to fix the problem. Instead, he slumped, twitching so often as his nerves insisted he was still very much alive.

He gasped hotly, breath fogging in front of him. That… probably wasn’t natural, given the current warm season. His chest shuddered with every unmeasured intake and expel of air. He wondered why his brain was telling him he was dying when this was mediocre compared to everything else his 400 years of life had offered.

Someone threw themselves at him, knees crashing next to his own as they grabbed his face and patted his cheek, trying to wake him up. He grunted, failing to brace his head against the wall and hear their words.

Another pair of hands and another body and another— People who wouldn’t leave him alone no matter what noise he tried to make to get them to stop crowding him. He couldn’t tell if it was spittle or blood making it’s way down his chin, but part of him couldn’t really care.

He fell forward, into their arms, and listed to the side. He thought he heard a scream.

———

The children didn’t look so good. After being thrown through the portal door and a few nights of rest, they were finally beginning to fall into a routine of sorts when someone decided to show their face.

Philip was slammed roughly through a quickly collapsing portal of his own, going backwards into the house instead of out the door. The children rushed to see what was happening at the forests edge, stupefied at the flash of a a gone portal and the strangled cry from inside the house. They almost didn’t help him.

That said, Mrs Noceda was called and pulled out of work immediately, and the man’s wounds were cared for.

Watching him wake up was almost comical.

He was out for over a day, comatose on the couch until further notice and guarded by——at the very least——one child and two palismen at a time. Accessories and layers thrown aside, and his boots at the door, he was thoroughly patched up and set aside. So, head pinned to his pillow with nails, limbs to the couch, and right arm sling across his stomach in nothing but ointment swaddled in bandages, Philip woke up feeling like God himself sentenced him to death.

A cat, a bee the size of a tiny dog, and a very angry looking teen girl stared him down as he blinked crust from his eyes and turned his head from looking at the ceiling. His neck felt like a bucket of partially dried paint, still sticky on the wall it was put on. The girl——purple hair, fair skin, and a glare that would cower most others her age——raised an eyebrow, arms tightening in their folded state.

Philip blinked once, scrunched his face in throbbing pain, and tried to say something. The initial “Hello?” drowned in his chalky, closed throat, and died on his tongue as a garbled choke.

She didn’t look pleased.

“Keep an eye on him while I em get the others,” she murmured to the animals, turning on her heel and stalking out of his sight.

Others? Where on God’s green earth was he?

She came back quite quickly with two others, a reptile, and a bird. They, too, stood tall and intimidating over him.

“We don’t want any funny business from you, Belos,” the bespectacled girl spoke first. “You’re lucky we were willing to patch you up, but don’t expect anything more hospitable than that.”

His face betrayed his beating heart, stopping and squeezing at the name. He opened his mouth, coughed and cleared his throat, then spoke. “Who the hell…?” He blinked, squeezing his eyes shut with a sharp breath. “Who are you children?”

They shifted, the shortest of them locking eyes with the purple haired girl.

“No games, Belos!” Spectacles snapped. “Stay down, and stay away from Hunter and Vee, or else. Don’t move from the couch until Mrs Noceda gets back. We’ll be watching you.” She glanced at her companions and nodded.

Purple Hair nodded back. “I’ll take first watch until Luz gets back.”

The short one held up a dark hand. “I’ll call Mrs Noceda!” He ran off.

With that settled (whatever it was) they split alongside their animals to do whatever it was they offered to. Purple Hair and her cat stayed, alongside the bee. The cardinal, and reptile left with the other two.

Philip clenched his left hand, breathing steady and gazing back up at the ceiling. Whatever was going on, he was in no way able to deal with it yet. Not until he could think straight and sit up to speak. For now, his best course of action, apart from keeping himself from breaking down into an anxious episode, was to rest and listen for anything valuable. Anything that could help him understand the situation better.

For now, he relaxed into the cushions, counting his inhales and exhales, falling asleep. He didn’t catch the lights flicking off or the curious expression on the girl’s face as she watched him struggle to calm, but that wasn’t pertinent…

———

He coughed himself awake, choking through a gasp as he jolted forward and collapsed back.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t think you would wake up!”

He winced, finding a woman kneeling next to him, cleaning his cut arm. Round stature with an intense stare, she smiled, softening her eyes, and Philip shuddered back into the cushions.

“I’m just re-bandaging your arm so it doesn’t get infected,” she explained. She set aside the papery washcloth for a roll of fresh bandages and began to wrap his wound.

It… It wasn’t good.

From wrist to mid-forearm there was pink, torn flesh stitched up with clear, red crusted string. Dark blue and green bruises trailed from palm to elbow, like clotting sludge. His fingers shook and for but a second he couldn’t breathe.

A hand touched his elbow.

He looked up.

The woman——Mrs Noceda, he remembered——searched his face, waiting before taking the back of his hand. She lead his arm back to her, bandage left on the floor. “It will be okay, Belos. You will heal.”

He was sure he heard her, but after that he couldn’t quite focus. He stared listlessly as she wrapped his arm, tucking in the cloth her and there, and cleaned up quietly.

“I’ll be right back with some pain medication, alright?” She said over her shoulder. “I’ll be right back…”

What was he doing? What was happening? The last thing he really remembered— The most recent thing he remembered outside of his stay in this house was being thrown aside and… getting a concussion, probably. He pushed himself up from his half-laying position across the entire couch into something more presentable.

As promised, Mrs Noceda entered with a cup and a handful of pills. “You’ve been out for a while, so I’m sure you’re hungry,” she said, handing over the drink——a cup of milk——and the pills. “Drink this and swallow these. It’s for the pain. Would you… Can I get you anything to eat?”

He stared at the pills, then slowly came back to and looked at her. “I… No, thank you. Perhaps later when I am…”

“More awake?” She supplied.

“Yes. Thank you.”

Eventually the throbbing, piercing of his arm died down, and he fell back asleep without knowing. The sun had long since set when he was roused to lay down for the remainder of the evening, and he couldn’t help but think he’d possibly, maybe, be okay.

———

They settled into an awkward, strained routine. Philip would wake up, clean his bedding from the couch, and take a moment in the bathroom before most others awoke themselves. While he made himself food (often leftovers from nights prior) the other residents would be roused and go from bathroom to bedroom to kitchen, giving him time to finish eating alone and find something to do.

Perhaps read a book, or experiment with the new technology around this almost futuristic house, or maybe even do some daily chores. Whatever it was he did, he made sure to keep away from the children as they wandered the house or left and returned to the property.

Lunch was often the same way, where he’d either eat before or after them, waiting for their group to disperse before he made himself a small something to ingest alone. It was only dinners that were different. Mrs Noceda always had something homemade when she could (though with extra people in the house she had to take some extra working hours to provide) and made sure everyone got a seat at the table. The first time this had happened, it was at the request of Hunter and Vee.

Philip——after a few weeks of regaining some personal memories back——was in no mood to strain the already tense relationships around the house with his presence. Especially not over what should be the most relaxing times a family should have together. He was already struggling by himself, stressed out of his mind trying to figure out who he was prior to his fuzzy amnesia and constantly stepping on eggshells around the children who obviously didn’t like him, so why would he consent to sitting at the same table with the kids who wanted him killed? Not to mention his lack of self defense and the roiling, angry spirits beneath his skin. He’d rather eat his fill outside and sleep in the mud, thank you.

Mrs Noceda was having none of that, though.

It had been decided he was much more harmless than before, and it could be a good way to grill him for villainous intentions or nefarious plans. An easy way to keep tabs on him and remind him of who was in charge in the house.

Definitely not him, by any margin.

He soon relented, assisting Mrs Noceda and her charges in setting the table or preparing the food, keeping out of the way of those cooking. He wasn’t allowed to make meals for anyone but himself, though he could clean dishes or hand out tools, he found.

“You need to eat more,” Mrs Noceda told him one evening, filling his plate. His right arm was still out of commission, though beginning to heal. “You look like you could fall over at any moment!”

“Mama!” Luz, the strange, excitable young human of the group, complained. She was vehemently against Philip regaining any strength beyond what he needed to heal his wounds.

Mrs Noceda ignored her.

“I assure you I’m fine, ma’am,” Philip tried, holding up a placating hand. “It’s enough you’ve let me stay in your home, you needn’t—“

“I am aware of what I am doing for you,” she said, putting down the serving bowl. “You eat what you can and we will put the leftovers in the fridge for tomorrow. Do you need a drink?” She was up grabbing his cup in an instant.

“I’m— Thank you…” He gave up, accepting her help and dropping the matter. She wasn’t going to stop, it seemed, and he was too tired to argue. He’d eat, clean up, and leave for bed. He just had to show a little face first.

———

Mrs Noceda have him money to buy clothes and necessities. He was… not particularly looking forward to leaving the house. The children offered to take him on a weekend, during which she would be working a little overtime to get some extra cash to cushion their new needs in a very full house.

As of recent, Philip had been given a small box of clothes from who knows where to use until he could get some of his own. They were on the older side and smelt a little musty, like they hadn’t been worn in a few years, let alone washed, but he didn’t mind. He had been living off the land most of his life, anyway. What was a little discomfort now compared to the blurry, painful past he could only recall in his deepest dreams?

The day out was far from exhilarating, but the kids made sure to keep everything interesting. They dragged him to a department store or two, looking for base clothes, toiletries, and small accessories. Philip changed into something more modern looking and much easier to move in, before they left the department store. After that they stopped by a shop for a quick early lunch before heading to a place called “The Mall”. It was a very large place compared to the neighborhood where the Noceda house was, and much more active as well. It was reminiscent of… a workplace he used to frequent. Before he came home from the place. The realm under this one, whatever it was called.

He didn’t dislike it. Instead it was strangely nice to blend in with the crowd, milling from place to place as nothing but another person— Another stranger none needed to care for.

Willow, the ridiculously strong girl with glasses, offered to cut his hair back at the house——“Just a trim! Y’know, since the ends have grown out a bit.”——but he refused. They group shoved him into a salon, taking his bags away and speaking with one of the hairdressers without him able to intervene. Payback, he supposed.

The feminine hairdresser was very cheerful and over-talkative, prattling on about their social life and family and their newest romance and a one night stand they wished would come back (he didn’t ask about that last one) as they prepared his hair. Brushed, washed, and brushed again, they moved him from stool to sink and brought out their tools.

“Just a trim, right? Unless—! I’ve been wanting to try this new haircut and I think it would look great on you! Like, your face shape—” They moved his hair this way and that, scrunching and pulling and parting here and there to show him the new look without actually doing anything. It was apparently a trend with the younger generation and those very interested in cosmetics to get one’s hair styled that way.

“Just a trim, please,” Philip said as cordially as possible. He was trying to keep himself from falling into rude behaviors, but they were pretty persistent.

“Are you sure? I mean, your hair has very split ends and it’s cut unevenly…” They said, lifting and gesturing to locks of his hair. “I’m sure I could try and blend it, but I’m going to have to take off a couple inches to get rid of the yucky ends, y’know?”

He did not, in fact, know.

His eyebrow twitched dangerously. “Just cut it, please! Do whatever it is you have to go make it look…” He waved his hand. “Better!”

They stiffened, then relaxed, snatching up a comb and some scissors. “If you say so,” they shrugged.

They put up his hair in clips and some hair, the pulled some down and put the rest up and did it again and again, until they were framing his face and tilting his head to get the best look they could. As soon as they were done he thanked them and left to join the kids, Luz at the front and already paying.

Hunter moved up beside him, chatting with the dark skinned, small one. Gus, was it? His hair was trimmed as well, though much shorter than it was when Philip first saw him in the household. He bumped his shoulder, startled, and shrank away. “S—sorry…”

Philip rolled his shoulders, watching him out through his peripheral. “It’s fine. Your hair… it looks good.”

The child’s face scrunched, confused.

Philip walked out of the store, trailing Luz and Amity as they held hands, talking softly.

———

By the time they started to head home, Philip was done. The kids dragged him around the mall, curiously causing havoc wherever they went as they explored the building together, each a handful in their own right. He had to admit, he shared some of the same wondrous sentiment they did in this new, strange realm, but he was also an adult. And, unfortunately, that meant acting like one.

He wrangled them like a shepherd with cats, keeping them in eyesight and earshot as they wandered here and there, pulling each other around. He called them back to the food court for snacks when a duo wouldn’t stop walking, and kept his bags in check as he did so. Nothing was stolen, no one was hurt, and everyone was soon ready to leave.

Luz took them to a cafe in the town square before they went home, introducing them all to the wonders of hot and cold caffeinated drinks, pastries both sweet and savory, and the magic of people watching while they ate outside. It was very… domestic. Quite nice, even, if he disregarded the awkward situation that was ordering at the desk.

Who he could only assume was a waiter (though Luz explained they don’t have any here) came over with two cardboard drink holders with everyone’s beverages. They all already had their pastries, and were currently sitting at two tables, chatting up a storm. Philip helped the worker set down and hand out the drinks.

“We don’t normally have staff waiting customers,” they explained, passing Gus his drink. “But it’s almost closing time and you looked like you needed a little help.” They smiled and winked at Philip, setting his cup in front of him.

“Oh. Thank you,” he said. A bit taken aback at the obvious calm kindness they gave, he gently took his beverage, unsure of what else to do. It warmed his hand quickly, and he wondered why they made the drinks so hot in the first place.

They grinned, ready to step away. “If it’s alright, may I have your number?”

“My what…?” Philip asked. “My—my address?”

They blinked stupidly. “Oh, yeah sure.” Their facade melted into something joking but sweet. “Do you not have a phone?”

“Uhm… no. I’m afraid I don’t.” Oh, by the Holy Spirit, what was he doing? Why weren’t they going back inside?

They hummed, taking out a napkin and pen from their apron. “I’ve never had a pen pal before…!”

The glee in which they managed to put into that single sentence had him forgetting all past thoughts, grabbing the pen and napkin, trying desperately to remember the address of Luz’s home. It was Gus who saved him from looking like a fool.

“I remember our address! Here, let me help you write it!” He jumped up, holding on hand on the napkin to keep it from moving and began to recite it. Part way through, however, Willow hopped in to correct a mistake.

“Perfect,” the worker smiled as the two beamed back, proud. They took the proffered tools back with a look of curious pride at Philip. “Looks like you have some keepers here, hm?” They joked.

Philip, stupid with the feeling of speaking to another adult human, and such a kind one at that, barely registered their words. “Yes, they are…”

They smirked and walked backward, waving. “I’ll write you!”

Philip waved back. One glance up, and he raised an eyebrow at the sniggering children. “What?”

“Nothing,” they harmonized.

#my ao3 #my ao3 fics #the owl house #emperor belos #philip wittebane #the owl house belos #toh kids #camilla noceda

16 notes · View notes

crab-instruments · 2 years

Text

Of Rats and Men Part 1

Part 2>

Pairing: Silco x Female Reader

Rating/Warning: teen, violence

Summary: You are a traveling medic, journeying between Piltover and Zaun. One night, you stumble upon a man and take him in. His presence causes havoc on your practice. Set between Act I & Act II.

AO3

a/n: First non-star wars fic. Para-Medic is a reference to MGS3 but I think the story is more from Daredevil. Oh well. I also just kind of decided to post this without really rereading it so I don't change my mind lol so I hope it's not completely awful. For @imalovernotahater

You lived your life on the edge between worlds. Or so it felt when you when you traveled between Piltover and Zaun. A Topsider by birth, you never felt you fit in. You became a surgeon but noticed even in Piltover proper, favoritism of class and wealth still applied.

You quit, citing the injustices you saw in your cases. Your oath was to help anyone and everyone, not just the highest bidder. This did not go over well with anyone. Your family was upset, mostly because you brought shame to the family name. The hospital you worked for was angry to lose an impressive surgeon along with the well-paying clientele you serviced.

In truth, your decision could be looked at as a moral one, you sold most of your belongings and bought a building near the bridge that connected the two worlds. You turned it into a home for yourself but also a small practice, taking in those who couldn’t afford the care they needed at Piltover prices. Topsiders viewed it more as a cautionary tale, saying you went mad, and others should avoid doing xyz. Something to push their own agenda. The lower class in Piltover saw you in secret. Only lower because if everyone had the same wealth no one was rich, and you gave them your discretion.

The people more likely to come to you were from Zaun.

When you started out, you took journeys across the bridge in search of work. No one would trust your ‘heart of gold’ story if you just sat safely inside your bubble. It was not easy, but you earned yourself a name as Para-Medic, as if you parachuted from Piltover to be a medic in the Undercity. Your services were spread by word of mouth, and you were sought out as a neutral healer. You did not ask for personal information, only diagnosed and repaired. Your practice was an asylum, a safe haven, and, most importantly, you were safe.

As you dragged an injured man to your practice who seemed to have many enemies, you were wondering if there were exceptions to the rule.

He was slender with one good eye, or you assumed it was good. It was closed since he was unconscious, but the bad eye seemed to not have the same function, black with a flaming iris. It was extremely dilated, not absorbing any information. His hair was dark with gray woven into it. His three piece suit exuded high class, but the style was something a Topsider would not be caught dead in.

It was looking as though someone from Zaun would be caught dead in it if you didn’t intervene.

He had multiple stab wounds and blunt force trauma. It seems the mystery man would be having an extended stay at your practice.

Exhausted from your ‘rounds’ across the bridge, you did your best to stitch and patch the man up. This is where you found yourself, watching his chest rise and fall, as you contemplate how fucked you were.

You had your suspicions of who he could be, but you swept away any thoughts of his identity. The less you knew the better.

During one of these ruminations, the patient woke up. He groaned and you could tell his brain was processing his surroundings.

You jumped to your feet when he started to use harsher movements. “Stop! You’ll pop the stitches!” He was delirious as you held him down.

His good eye, the color of waves on the coast on a sunny day, bore into you. At first, it was confusion, then anger. “Who are you? Where am I? Get your hands off me.”

“Stop moving and lie back down first.” He seemed to settle down but everything about his posture screamed ‘alert’. “I’m Para-Medic and you’re at my practice.”

Recognition flashed across his face before the scowl came back. “I’ve heard of you. Taking care of the pathetic rats that scurry around here.”

You clenched your jaw but that didn’t stop the smart remark from leaving your mouth. “Right, tonight’s roadkill was especially fruitful.”

“Do you know who I am?” You could tell he used every last ounce of energy he had to put force into that question. He must not be used to people talking freely around him.

“I know that to intimidate me, you just opened one of your wounds. Your status doesn’t matter if you bleed to death.” The tension was electrifying, waiting to see who would give first. What felt like hours passed and he succumbed to the pain. You didn’t rush as you grabbed your tools once more, walking with a sense of pride and victory. The feeling didn’t last long as you redid your earlier work.

The man remained silent as you patched him up. When you finished, you brought him water and soup, something you thought he could manage.

“I’m sorry, your highness, but this is the best I got. Besides, you won’t be able to stomach much else.”

His glare cut through you. “I have no need for this, I just need to get back to—”

“Fine, don’t eat, but I would strongly advise against leaving if you want to make it to your destination. You need at least a few days rest before you could hobble your way back to your castle.”

“A few days?”

“You’ll be safe here. There are unwritten rules for those who use my services. Those who break those rules… well, they never need my services again.” His face was unreadable for a moment. You stood up to leave the room but stopped before crossing the threshold. “Everyone’s a rat here.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You did not sleep much that night. Your conscience wouldn’t allow you to stop listening for the mystery man. Possibly the sounds of him dragging himself out of your practice with a trail of blood in his wake. If he chose to leave, you wouldn’t be able to stop him. However, you would do everything to convince him to stay. Allowing him to leave and die out in the middle of the street went against everything you worked so hard to build.

His face and attitude could only be that of the kingpin himself, Silco. You treated him like everyone else that ended up in your care and for that you could pay. Even after saving his life. No good deed goes unpunished.

You had to keep some doubt in your head, but if it was Silco, he was much more handsome than the whispers described. Scarred on one side, something about the stoic appearance intrigued you. His face reflected the two worlds you lived in: the unmarred Piltover and the grotesque Zaun.

His good eye was beautiful, you could lose yourself in it if given the chance. But behind that beauty was a harsh reality, it held sadness only hardship brings but will only see it if you’re looking for it. His bad eye was dark and flaming, scary. But it was also a gem in its own right, when the light hit it just right, an array of crimson and topaz reflected back.

Nothing was ever as it seemed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“If you insist on me staying here, I’ll need a favor.”

The man with heterochromia must have accepted his fate overnight, the pain settling in like a blanket of malice on his muscles.

“Oh? A favor in addition to the care I’m already providing? Of course, your highness, anything for an important sir such as yourself.”

Silco rolled his eyes but continued. “I need shimmer injected into my afflicted eye. I have a specific tool for it in my office, but I am confined within these walls. A surgeon such as yourself should be able to handle this request, correct?”

You paused. In your head you replayed every interaction, wondering what could have given away your specialty. Instead of giving him the satisfaction of deducting, you went to prepare for such a procedure. “Yes. That should be fine. I only have a small supply of shimmer, but it should be enough. I can’t imagine that to be a pleasant experience to go through. Do you administer it yourself normally?”

Silence followed, the man reluctant to give information freely. You walked over, his eyes following you curiously. “In any case, we’ll have to be careful of your reaction to it, as any harsh movements will add stress to your wounds.”

Carefully, you reached out with one hand and gently placed it on the ‘good side’ of his face, brushing back some hair with the movement. Your intention was to steady his head, but the gesture came off rather… kind. It was the first time the man showed surprise. His blue eye wide, watching you intently, waiting for your next move. You became entranced and lost track of time before snapping back out of it. You quickly dispensed the shimmer and did your best to help comfort Silco through the pain. Something about seeing the man vulnerable made you want to stay close to him and soothe his discomfort, more than you already were.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed there in that moment before the door to your practice opened. Both of you pulled away, and you left both the man and the confusing feelings behind in the room.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The day went by normally, other than having the King of Zaun healing in a small, tucked away room in your practice. You checked in on the man, who was reading one of the medical text books you had given him once he complained of boredom. Other than a small complaint here and there, he was a decent patient.

When dusk arrived, your troubles really started.

Two large men barged in, extremely intimidating and certainly not citizens of Piltover. Anyone left in your so-called lobby scurried out. This was something you had mentally prepared for when you started this job.

“How can I help you, boys?” you ground out as evenly as possible.

They share a look before the taller one speaks. “We’re here to finish up business that was started last night.”

“Last night? I did not instruct any patients to return for more care, so there isn’t business for you to finish here.”

The shorter one spoke. “We know what you do here, Para-Medic—”

“Then you know that you’re pushing your luck and close to starting an outright turf war.”

“It would be worth it. We had Silco but the worm slipped out of our grasp. Someone said they saw you pick him up. Based on the beating, he’d still be pretty close to death.”

You let out a shaky breath before speaking, tightening your grip on the object you hid behind the desk. “Who is and isn’t in my care isn’t a concern of yours. If you don’t leave—”

“What are you going to do about it?” The larger one moved forward to threateningly loom over you.

“I’m a healer but,” in a swift motion, you cocked the shotgun you had, “I’m not above creating my own job security.”

The tension was thick as the two men stared at you, waiting for you to break. You didn’t care, your lack of self-preservation started many years ago. Even though you held no power to change anything, your life was worth much more than people realized, much more than you thought imaginable when you started all this. Your death would cause chaos in Zaun.

The tension subsides as the shorter one sighs. “Fine, we’ll leave, but we will remember this.”

“As will I.”

You didn’t move until the two were out of sight. Then, you locked every door and window, doing the best you could to leave your brain empty. Your thoughts traveled back to the man you had almost lost your life for. You grabbed fresh water and food for him.

Silco was sitting up in the room, watching you with something that could be read as ‘concern’ but maybe just curiosity. The book he had been reading was placed next to him and the blanket had been disturbed in such a way that made you think he was preparing to leave.

You placed the food and water down, making a much louder clanging sound than it should have. Looking at your hands to realize they were shaking. Doing your best to control yourself, you picked up the empty dishes.

Before you could leave, a hand had gently reached out but firmly stopped you. You slowly turned to face Silco. He didn’t immediately say anything, only stared at your still trembling arm under his hand. “Do you need something?” you almost couldn’t hear your own voice, it had come out so quiet.

Two mismatched eyes met yours and he let go of your arm, almost as if he had been burned. “Why did you do that? You could have died and for what? Do you imagine you’ll be rewarded?”

You could only gawk at him. Was he really questioning why you just saved his life? “You’re not special. I would have done it for any one of my patients. I don’t care who you are, when you’re in my care, you’ll be offered the same service I give everyone else. That service comes with protection and there’s no cost attached to it. I don’t expect to be rewarded for doing my job.”

Too tired to continue to deal with the man, you left. It had to have been your imagination, but it sounded like he had said a thank you before you were completely out of sight.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

With adrenaline still lingering in your system, it was difficult to sleep. You went back to the practice side to look at paper work until your brain could not understand the words on the page. You turned to cleaning quietly, but there is only so much you can do on so little energy. You went into the room that held Silco. You watch him from the doorway before settling down in a chair.

You could accept that you didn’t want to be alone after what had happened. What you couldn’t accept was that you found comfort with the kingpin. If anything, it should only spark fear, as he was the reason for your current state, but you couldn’t bring yourself to address any emotion besides exhaustion.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Waking up came in stages. Your body hurt from the squished position you put yourself in, but you realized a blanket was on you that hadn’t been before you fell asleep. It smelled of a cologne you tried not to think too hard about.

After uncurling, you looked around to find that it was just after dawn and Silco was reading again.

“Good to see you do sleep some.” He didn’t move from his position to address you.

“I’m sorry about that, I’ll check your bandages.”

“For sleeping and finding comfort in my presence? Don’t be, I find it endearing. Dare I say adorable.”

You scoffed before being a little rougher than normal taking off the bandages covering the stab wounds, noting how well they healed. “Seems like you could leave today, if you wanted. You’ll still want to take it easy, but you’re not in immediate danger of bleeding to death if you breathe too hard.”

“And I was just beginning to get to the good part of ‘Anatomy of the Human Body’. What a shame.”

After you finished dressing his wounds, you briefed him on what he should do until fully healed and what he should avoid. Silco was rather quiet as you spoke, his eyes stayed on your face the entire time.

“I’m afraid I do not have the means to pay you at the moment, as my state before you found me involved losing most of my belongings. I can promise you, though, having the King of Zaun owe you a favor is very valuable.” He stood before you, coat on ready to leave, and a soft expression on his face.

You crossed your arms and leaned back in your chair. “Hmm… I’m not sure what I did to earn a favor with any ‘King’, as I only take care of rats.” Silco rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, whenever you can spare the time to stop by, we can work out a payment.”

Silco smiled for the first time, but it was gone before he turned to leave your practice.

Part 2

#crab writes #silco x reader #silco x you #arcane silco #lol silco #took me way too long to realize lol was league of legends and not laugh out loud #of rats and men #is it a crab fic if there isn't an mgs reference?#crab fics

327 notes · View notes

hpimaginesandblurbs · 3 years

Note

can you pleasee do pt 2 to draco fucking his arranged marriage wife of the next day the reader being needy saying that she can’t get enough of him while he’s working in his office and he’s like “babe im busy😑” but then rails tf outta her right there😀 with like praise and daddy kink😩😩😩

read part 1 here

pairing: draco malfoy x reader

word count: 3.0k

warning(s): 18+, dom/sub roles, daddy kink, praise, slight degradation/humiliation, mentions of arranged marriage

a/n: i have been so excited to write a part two to this imagine the second i got the request. there will also be a part three coming soon so if you like these stay tuned! these have to be my favorite ones i've ever written.

It was the day after your marriage truly started. Although you and your husband, Draco Malfoy, had been married for weeks, the marriage truly began yesterday.

It had been a whirlwind.

It all began with you fucking your ex boyfriend, something you did in a desperate attempt to receive physical contact and get out of the house you had thought to be a prison.

When your husband came home, you decided it would be a brilliant idea to tell him. It was an arranged marriage, one that he did not seem enthusiastic to be a part of, so you figured there would be no hard feelings.

You were incredibly, incredibly wrong.

He had a lot of feelings about your adultery, but not only was there the anger and jealousy you were expecting, there was sadness. That had taken you by surprise, and only after poking the dragon, you finally consummated your marriage with your husband. Right there on the couch of the entrance hall.

After he had fucked you silly, you both reached the agreement that you would actually try to work as a real marriage. You had both made mistakes, and you were both ready and excited to move past those and really try to build a relationship out of what you had both thought was doomed from the start.

Which was why you were in front of his study, a hand raised and ready to knock, the following evening. He had been in there most of the day, working on a project for what you had learned to be connected to the Malfoy’s family business, but you were ready to put an end to his work day in the best way you knew how.

Your hand had barely connected with the wood when you heard a curt “Come in,” from the other side of the door.

You opened the door slowly and walked in, taking in the sight before you. There were papers scattered all over the desk, inkwells and quills mixed into the mess. Either you caught him at a bad time, or he wasn’t as tidy as you had assumed.

But it wasn’t the desk that caught your eye. It was him.

His button down shirt was rolled up the elbows at the cuffs. His hands, already littered with rings, were smudged with ink and deftly writing something down on a piece of parchment. There wasn’t a single hair out of place on his head, but what struck you were his glasses. You didn’t even know he wore glasses. But he looked damn good in them, because of course he fucking did.

“Yes?” He asked, a smug smile on his face as he watched you openly check him out. You hadn’t even realized he had looked up from the parchment he had been writing on.

“Just figured you could use a break, dinner’s ready,” you explained, quickly catching yourself.

“I’ll be out in a bit. I just need to finish this bit up,” he replied, an obvious dismissal but you had had enough of that over the past two weeks to last a lifetime.

“Draco, you’ve obviously been at this for a while. Just come take a break,” you argued defiantly, happy with the knowledge you finally felt comfortable enough to do so.

“Y/N, I’m busy,” he said gently, clearly not wanting to break the carefully made balance you had just created with a silly argument, but you couldn’t help yourself.

You admitted it to yourself when you walked in the room. You didn’t really want him to take a break just to have dinner with you. No. You wanted him to take a break so he would fuck you right over his desk.

“You can finish it later,” you continued, your arms crossed over your chest as you waited for his eventual push back.

But his argument never came.

Slowly, painfully slow, he began to stack up his papers in neat piles to put them away. Next were the inkwells being covered and finally the quills being put away. All without a word between you both.

When his desk was cleared, he finally turned his attention back to you.

“You come into my study and argue with me over taking a break just to go eat dinner. You haven’t bothered to ask me to dinner once over the past few weeks. So is it really dinner that’s got you so riled up, or is it something else?” He asked straight faced, but the twinkle in his eye led you to believe he knew exactly why you were arguing.

“Can’t a wife just want to spend time with her husband?” You argued, but it didn’t hold the impact you wanted the words to have.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said, pushing his chair back just slightly. “Come here,” he commanded, crooking his fingers in your direction.

With just two silly little words your skin was flushed and your nerves were on fire. You weren’t sure what type of hold this man had over you, but it ran deep for only having just fucked him the day before for the first time.

You followed his command without a second thought, and it led you to standing right between his spread legs with your back pressed up against his now pristine desk.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think my wife just wants to get fucked. Am I correct?” He asked, raking his eyes over your body greedily, taking in every inch of you. You were just lucky you dressed to impress tonight in a perfect, form-fitting black cocktail dress. It didn’t leave much to the imagination.

“Yes,” you answered easily, completely giving up the fight now that you could see the hunger that you felt reflected in his eyes.

He gave you a slow smile before dragging you down to straddle his lap, perfectly placing you so you could feel his growing erection against your core as he kissed you roughly. It was perfect after a day of craving him so fiercely, and you knew this was only the appetizer.

His hands possessively roamed your body as he continued to dominate your kiss, finally landing on your ass to pull you closer against him. Your hands made quick work of taking his glasses off and gently placing them on the desk somewhere behind you before trailing through his hair, messing up his perfectly placed platinum locks.

You couldn’t stop yourself from grinding down on him, moans spilling from both of your lips at the friction. He let you do as you please for a few minutes, just enjoying kissing you and having you in his lap, but once your hands went to undo the buttons on his shirt, he gripped your hips roughly and pushed you back.

“Let’s get one thing straight, pretty girl. I’m in charge, and you’ll be a good girl and do as I say, won’t you?” He asked, running a thumb along your lower lip as he spoke.

You bit his finger gently before answering, and your answer only riled him up more than the bite did.

“Yes, Daddy.”

And just like that he unleashed himself on you, much like he had done the day before.

He had you on your feet and spun around faster than you could even blink. Within the next breath, your dress was being stripped off of your body and thrown across the room, your breasts exposed. When he had you bent over the desk with just a thong on, he finally opened his mouth again.

“You’re gonna be a good girl for Daddy, aren’t you, pretty girl?” He asked, dragging his hands up the back of your thighs until he was grabbing your ass again.

“Yes,” you gasped out, knowing you were already drenched from his words and touch alone.

When you felt his palm connect with your raised ass, you couldn’t hold back the whimper that fell from your lips.

“Yes, what?” He asked, rubbing his hands in circles to soothe the ache, but the contrast of his warm skin and cold rings only left you shaking.

“Yes, Daddy,” you answered, saying the words again.

They were meant to be a joke at first. Just another jest to rile him up and poke at him. But now, after having called him Daddy twice, it was starting to feel right. Like this was exactly the dynamic you were meant to be in with him.

“So much better. Look at you, already dripping down your thighs,” he mused, his finger trailing up your thigh in what you could only assume was a patch of wetness, a blush falling over your face at the thought.

He dragged your thong down your legs and slowly freed your feet before tossing the scrap of fabric across the room as well, leaving you totally exposed.

“Is this what you wanted? To be bent over Daddy’s desk just begging to be fucked?” He asked, his weight pinning you down as he bent over, slowly dragging his lips up the side of your neck as he spoke. You could feel how hard he was against your ass and you fought now to roll your hips into him, but you knew he would put an end to it anyway.

“Please fuck me,” you begged quietly, your words no more than a whisper as you played right into the fantasy he was spinning for the both of you.

“Patience, darling,” he said accompanied by a dark chuckle, but he didn’t leave you wanting.

He kept his weight on you, his lips leaving open mouth kisses on your neck that were sure to leave bruises for the coming days, but he dragged a finger up your slit and plunged inside of you.

You were so on edge that the one finger almost made you cum right then, but of course he was careful to make sure that didn’t happen. He teased you along until one finger turned into two, and by then you were a writhing mess on his desk.

“Daddy, please. I’m ready. Just fuck me,” you begged impatiently, all of your focus on him and his miraculous fingers.

Silently, he pulled back to stand up fully behind you. For a moment, you thought you’d be getting what you wanted, but you should have known it was too good to be true. You weren’t getting fucked until he thought you were ready.

You felt his thumbs pull your lips apart, and you knew all of his focus was right on you, right on where you were a dripping mess for him and that had you fighting not to squirm under his gaze.

“I told you to be patient, pretty girl. Or are you just that desperate to cum you couldn’t help yourself? Because this pretty little hole isn’t ready for me yet,” he mused, and his words forced an unexpected moan out of you.

You were exposed and aching, a true flushed mess in front of him, while he was a master of poise and control, still fully clothed behind you. Something about the situation made your head spin and your knees weak, and you knew you were in for a wild ride with this man. But you were willing to take anything and everything he threw your way because there was no denying you were enjoying every second of this. Not when he was holding you open obscenely and could see the evidence for himself.

“I want to cum,” you answered honestly, your breasts grinding on the desk and you arched your back, further exposing yourself in the hopes that he would fulfill your wishes.

While still holding you open, he used one gentle finger to stroke over your clit and it was just enough pressure to cause a shiver to run down your spine. If he kept it up, you knew you’d cum in seconds. “Go ahead, cum for me. Let me watch you make a mess of yourself,” he commanded, keeping the gentle pressure on your clit.

You came with a scream, your legs shaking beneath you. The desk was the only reason you stayed up, otherwise you would have collapsed from the force of your orgasm right there. It felt like one of the most intense orgasms of your life, all just from a little flick of his finger.

As you came down, you were gasping for air, just as desperate for your next breath as you were for Draco’s cock. No matter how mind shattering your orgasm had been, you were still craving more. You’d always crave more from him.

“That was beautiful, darling - watching you clench around nothing as you screamed for me. I think you’re ready for my cock now,” he mused, slowly stroking his hands up and down your back in an effort to calm your body, but every nerve was on fire from his touch.

“Please, please, fuck me Draco. I need you,” you were begging shamelessly now, not even worried about making a fool of yourself in this new marriage. You were both too invested in this moment to care, both of you just knew you needed each other.

“Shh, you have me, pretty girl. I’m right here,” he soothed, placing gentle kisses on your shoulders as he worked to free his cock behind you. “Stay just like that.”

You didn’t even know he had succeeded in taking his cock out until you felt his tip against your entrance, and he didn’t wait a second longer. He plunged into you like he was just as desperate as you were, which by the way he was fucking you in brutal strokes, you could tell he was.

Your hands clutched the edge of the desk for dear life, your knuckles a bright white against the dark oak wood. With every thrust, your hips collided with the sharp edge, sure to leave some marks for you to admire the next day.

You could feel the power behind each deep, hard stroke and you knew he was giving you his all. The previous night had been kind and sweet compared to the brutal fucking he was giving you now. You felt fucked within an inch of your life and he had barely even started.

“Fuck, Y/N. You take me so fucking well. So perfect,” he praised, not even sounding out of breath. Meanwhile, you couldn’t even control the noises that were coming from your mouth.

You climbed up the peak steadily, but even in your cock drunk daze you knew this orgasm would wipe you out. Once you were about to reach the edge, he pulled out.

“No, please, fuck. I was so close,” you whined, but a startled gasp came out of your mouth next when he lifted you up and spun you around, your back crashing back down on the desk with a gentle thud.

You finally got the chance to look at him, then. His cock was hard and aching, on the verge of falling over the edge himself. His hair was disheveled and he had that glow that only sex could bring coming from his perfect skin, but when you locked eyes you couldn’t look away. His silver eyes were clouded with lust and possession, a man closing in for the kill on his prey. It was terrifying and arousing all at once, but you were sure your own eyes reflected something similar.

Draco wasted no time in hoisting your legs over his shoulders and coming down to take your lips in a brutal kiss just before fucking back into you, his pace the same as it had been in the previous position. He swallowed your moans greedily, but finally pulled back to just concentrate on your face.

“I needed to look at you when you came on my cock. Show me how pretty you look when you fall apart for me,” he ordered, but his voice was gentle and there was a smile fighting to tug on his face. It didn’t hold the same dominance his previous commands did, but you followed it all the same.

One, two, three thrusts later you came with his name on your lips as he fucked you through it. It was like your whole world blacked out and only the two of you existed, suspended in this moment as he stared down at your blissed out face. He followed you shortly, and the feel of him emptying himself inside of you accompanied by the litany of choked out praises he was giving you was almost enough to push you into a third orgasm.

You both stayed like that as the minutes passed, chest to chest and near face to face as you caught your breath. It was no easy feat after an orgasm like that, but finally he was wrapping you in his arms and balancing you in his lap as he got comfortable in his desk chair once again.

“Was that too much?” He asked, the concern dripping from his voice as he tenderly brushed your hair from your face.

You could have laughed at his concern. That was the best sex you had ever had in your life, and he was asking if it was too much. But you didn’t want to worry him.

“Draco, that was perfect. I loved every second of it,” you told him honestly, tilting your head up so you could look him in the eye so he would have no room for doubt.

It was him who laughed then, in sheer disbelief of the woman curled up in his lap. “I got too lucky with you. You’re perfect,” he said with a smile, a small kiss to your forehead following his words.

“I think I’m the lucky one,” you insisted, curling further into his chest as the events of the evening finally wore on your body. It was comfortably silent for a few minutes as he held you, until you remembered why you had truly come into his study in the first place. “But I was serious when I came in. Dinner’s ready,” you reminded him with a slight giggle.

“How about I get you up to bed and we eat dinner in bed, hm?” He asked, already lifting you up and carrying you towards the door.

“Sounds perfect,” you said, relaxing against his strong chest as he continued to prove just how lucky you were to end up in this arranged marriage.

#harry potter #draco malfoy blurb #draco malfoy drabble #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy smut #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy #draco one shot

627 notes · View notes

duskamethyst · 3 years

Text

needy.

a/n: as the title suggests.. my head was empty, only pro athlete atsumu.

word count: 1.9k

genre: smut, nsfw

warnings: pwp, daddy kink, breeding kink, mating press, slight degradation, praising, creampie

pairing: pro!atsumu x f!reader

summary: just horny couple things.

“‘tsumuuu.” you whine as you walk to your boyfriend lounging on the sofa, eyes glued on the large screen as he watches one of his favorite action movies. atsumu has no business to look that damn attractive– shorts to reveal his thick thighs as they spread and a shirt that seems to hug his toned body too well. he needs to keep fit after all, especially since he’s a professional athlete but it doesn’t help when your libido is up the roof right now.

“hmm?” he replies, only tearing his eyes away to look at you when you wrap your arms around him from behind. “done showering?” he smiles, taking a whiff of your favorite floral scent from your body wash that lingers on your warm skin.

“mmhmm.” you kiss his temple as your hands squeeze his shoulders to offer a little massage while also hoping for a piece of his attention.

“your hands feel good.” atsumu murmurs, sinking down further into his seat though his lazy eyes remain on the flashing tv screen.

you pout from the lack of attentiveness, “i know something that feels even better.”

“and what’s that?” you’re unsure if he’s acting coy or genuinely curious but you stride in front of him, body wrapped with nothing but just a towel and you sit on his lap and face the unfazed male. you can feel his mid hard cock on your bare pussy and your hips grind a little against the fabric of his shorts.

“baby, i can’t see my show.” his eyebrow quirks up as he looks at you but then he shifts his head to the side to peek over at the screen.

“but i need you now.” you mumble, hips rolling in desperation to soothe the ache from your pussy. his erection grows harder and bigger in just mere seconds and your slick quickly drips down onto his shorts, forming a dark patch as it absorbs into the material.

but atsumu only sneers at your pathetic whimpers. “needy lil’ slut.” he gazes up at you adoringly and tucks away the damp hair behind your ear, “you want my fat cock inside that greedy cunt?”

“please, daddy.” you whimper, knowing the name would get him riled up especially when he loves knowing that your pleasure lays on him, and only him. atsumu lifts up his hips to tug his pants and boxers down to free his throbbing cock. it’s pretty amazing how your boyfriend is still collected despite being a horny little shit himself– him being the one who always jumped on you even when you did nothing that would even try to rouse him.

he smears your juices by dragging the head of his cock up your puffy folds and teases against your clit, sending a shock of pleasure to your core. “tell me how much you want it.” large brown eyes lock with yours as he uses his teeth to pull down your towel and tosses it aside.

“want it so much. want it to fill me up, make me feel good. wanna be so full.” you start to babble out of desperation and a cocky smirk etched on his lips as he observes your display of eagerness for him.

“that’s my good lil’ slut.” atsumu isn’t hard to please and teasing you even further will only cause him more damage than it does to you. so he guides you down by holding your waist and your lips part to a moan at the feeling of his thick cock stretching your sloppy cunt.

“t-thank you, daddy.” you choke before rolling your hips around his cock.

the voices from the movie turn to white noise and atsumu is quick to forget about it. you start to hump on his cock and his head falls back to watch the way your perfect tits bounce in front of his face. his grasps on your waist are loose, giving you absolute control over him as you please yourself.

you lean to his broad chest and your movements become erratic as you found the right angle to fuck yourself deeper.

“that’s it, baby. use my cock.” he grunts over the feeling of your walls clamping down on him as your chorus of moans and whines sings a symphony into his ears, giving him a boost of ego knowing how great his big cock makes you feel.

“mmh– daddy– s-so good!” your hand clutches onto his tight shirt as leverage as you feel the knot in your lower stomach tightening to warn that you’re inching closer to your orgasm. a loud shriek elicits from your throat when a large hand spanks and grabs the meaty flesh of your ass.

“fuck. you’re so tight.” atsumu spanks again and your wall clenches tighter around his cock in response. your slick is already dripping down his balls as your body starts to shake on top of him but atsumu holds you down by the hips to stop you from moving.

“daddy, p-please.” you whine, eyes glassy as if you look like you’re about to cry if you don’t get to find your needed release.

“what is it, baby?” he muses, brushing out the hair from your face as his umber eyes stare into yours in a mixture of familiar admiration and lust.

“wanna cum.” you poke your bottom lip out into a pout which you know atsumu is quick to melt into. he pretends to ponder for a moment, purposely makes you wait as he watches you squirm against him desperately.

“c’mere,” atsumu shifts on his seat and lies down on the sofa. “sit on my face.”

your cheeks warm up a little at the thought of riding your boyfriend’s face. atsumu eagerly waits for you, sticking his tongue out and flat before you crawl up and shove your pussy in his mouth. he quickly latches on your swollen clit, flicking and sucking on the bud to make you squeal. his arms are wrapped around your hips, holding you as you grind onto his face until he’s nose deep into your cunt.

“you taste so fuckin’ good.” he murmurs through your folds before prodding his tongue inside your hole and sucking out your slick like a starved man that craves for what your body spills. “this lil’ clit needs some attention, does it?” he toys the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue and gives a harsh suck.

“hah– daddy! gonna cum!” you sob as you tug a lock of his blonde hair and roll your hips erratically against his face to chase your high.

atsumu slaps your ass as his tongue flicks rapidly against your clit, encouraging you to cum on his tongue. you throw your head back with a loud moan ripping off from your throat when the pressure inside you finally snaps. your legs shake as you try to recollect yourself but atsumu remains to suck and lap off all what your body spills and cause you to shudder from the sensitivity.

“i fuckin’ love it when you cum on my face.” a large hand comes down harshly on your ass, stinging and burning the skin. “you always make such a big mess.”

“lie down, princess.” he directs. “let daddy take good care of you.”

you submissively lie down on the sofa and spread your legs before atsumu crawls on top of you. he caresses your puffy folds with his thumb gently, smearing your slick all over before he grazes his tip with his precum.

a low, guttural sound slips from his throat when he sinks his cock inside you. his brows are knitted together as he pushes deeper, relishing in the feeling of your tight walls clamping around him so well.

“holy fuck. it’s fuckin’ tight.” he growls, rolling his hips just slowly to let your body acclimatize.

“f-feels full, daddy.” you whine, extending your arms to his shoulder which he immediately leans down to the crook of your neck before he starts pounding inside your cunt. it stretches you so nicely that you think you might cum right there and then.

atsumu chuckles in endearment, “what? i haven’t even cummed yet.”

“y-you know you’re big. shut up.”

“damn right. gonna stuff you so full with my cum.” he snaps his hips at a faster pace and your legs quickly find themselves around his waist. “you’d like that, don’t ya?”

“mmhmm!” you squeal, hands clenching on his shirt firmly as you let him use you like a sex doll; like it’s all that you’re good for.

“make you so full with our kids?” he pulls out almost entirely and slams back in. “make your little hole into the shape of my fat cock?”

“yesyesyes!” you moan as you savor the feeling of the veins and ridges on his cock dragging against your walls with each thrust.

“you’re clampin’ down on me, princess.” he bites the supple flesh of your neck, sucking and nibbling until it bruises purple. “suckin’ me in your greedy cunt. you can never have enough of my cock, huh?”

“mmph– feels good!” your mind starts to turn into mush as he continues to fuck you and your toes curl as your second orgasm approaches quickly.

atsumu pulls away from you and unwraps your legs to fold your thighs up to your chest with your legs over his shoulders, putting you in a mating press that provides him the ideal angle to allow him to reach deeper into you. his weight pins you down and your lungs feel like they are crushed, but it isn’t as overwhelming as the tightening pressure in your lower stomach.

“ya like that? your pussy is clenchin’ around me like a fuckin’ slut.” he grins arrogantly as he watches your blissed out expression, tongue lolling out of your parted lips as you chant pretty moans for him.

“g-gonna cum!” you can feel the knot in your lower stomach twisting and threatening to snap.

atsumu chuckles, “already?” he pounds harder, unmindful over the deep dent forming on the sofa. “then cum on daddy’s cock. daddy wants you to cream all around his big cock.”

he rubs tight circles on your swollen clit, edging you closer to your orgasm and your eyes roll back once you finally tip off, pussy fluttering and squeezing around him as you’re sent into a state of euphoria.

“daddy makes you feel good, doesn’t he?” he coos as he fucks you through your high.

“t-thank you, da-ddy.” you gasp, mouth gaping as you pant for air.

the room is filled with the sound of his balls slapping your skin mingling with his throaty grunts. his pace soon turns sporadic, balls tightening as he feels like he’s almost reaching his own orgasm.

“sh-shit. ‘m gonna cum in this pretty pussy.” he growls, thrusting faster until his cock twitches and he grounds his hips as his warm seeds shoot inside your womb. he takes a brief moment to make sure he has emptied out inside you before he pulls out his softening cock. you can feel his load stuffing you full but atsumu presses your tummy and watches as his white cum leaks out from your cunt.

“too much?” he brushes the hair out of your face and plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.

you nod meekly, feeling limp and weak all over. “don’t think i’ll be able to walk properly tomorrow.”

atsumu snickers as he gazes into your heavy lidded eyes lovingly, “well, you have to, sweetheart. still need to use your legs when i fuck you in the shower later.”

#atsumu miya #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #atsumu smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #tw; breeding #r; writes

1K notes · View notes

thebrideofmunson · 3 years

Text

Pink Promise

Pairing: Dean Winchester X younger sibling reader(not in an incest way)

Summary: Dean is there to help his younger sibling after they have a nightmare

Words: 2211

Warnings: fairly angsty, but still very very fluffy, a detailed nightmare, mentions of John Winchester’s parenting style, bad writing?, like one cuss word, a tiny tiny bit of gore

Note about characters: in the present scenes the reader is 16 and in the flashbacks they’re 6 and the reader and Dean have like a 13/14 year age gap so he’s like 19/20 in the flashbacks, there isn’t any gendered terms for the reader so it’s neutral(unless you count hair being braided as a gendered term, but boys can have braided hair cause gender isn’t real), and finally this takes place in season 5

Dean woke up, not for any purpose, just one of those weird moments where you randomly wake up in the middle of the night. He shook his head and began fluffing his pillow, stopping when he heard soft crying.

“(Y/N)?” He softly called out.

You were laying with your back facing out and your face squished into the musty cushions of the small motel room couch, a failed attempt at muffling your cries.

“Y-Yeah Dean? Something wrong?” You tried to play it off.

“I was gonna ask you the same thing. Were you crying?”

When you guys first got your room Dean cursed the streetlight right outside the window, but now he watched how it illuminated you as you dropped your head down.

“Nightmare?”

You looked up and made eye contact before slowly nodding a yes.

“Think you’re gonna be able to go back to sleep?”

You dropped your gaze again as your face screwed up and you could feel new tears form on your lash line.

“No.” You softly croaked out, barely audible over Sam’s snores.

~Flashback~

You couldn’t breathe, too focused on staying quiet to risk opening your mouth. Once the sting in your eyes and the back of your throat calmed down you went back to sleep.

“Sammy?”

You screamed out running through an old grey house.

“No no no please no!” You heard him scream somewhere you couldn’t find.

“Sammy!” You huffed before taking off running down the hall you came from.

As you ran around the house you felt small and helpless, like when you got separated from your brothers in the corn maze at the pumpkin patch in Iowa, the one Dean took you to without your dad knowing.

“Dean?” You desperately called for your brother as your feet pounded against the floor.

Completely unaware of your surroundings you ran, the only thing on your mind was finding your brother. Not paying attention to your surroundings you tripped, your heart raced knowing how your dad always got on you for that. You got up and looked down to see what sent you flying to the cracked floorboards.

“Dean!” You screamed

You woke up again, heart pounding in your head and toes. You stopped gasping for air when you felt your dad roll over next to you, holding it in again to stay quiet. Collecting your moose and your blanket, the one you got in Oregon when you were 3 and have refused to sleep without ever since, you slipped off of the bed as silently as possible. Your dad and Dean were fumigating a house in a fancy neighborhood so the only hotel available was a little nicer than your usual moldy motels. The vinyl floorboards stayed quiet as you snuck over to the door that joined your brothers’ room to you and your dad’s. You glanced at your brothers sleeping in their beds before moving their jackets off of the chair that sat in the corner. Dropping your blanket on the floor you traded it for the two flannels that were under their jackets and curled up into the chair. Once you were comfortable you finally let the tears flow, crying softly at first and burying your face into Mort the moose as your chest heaved more and more with the weight of your cries.

“(Y/N)?” You heard Dean call out in confusion as he shut the drawer of his nightstand.

“S-sorry for waking you up.” You tossed off the flannels and picked up your blanket, heading back to your proper room.

“No, no, hey, hey, come here.” Dean moved over in his bed and opened his arms, lightly flicking his wrist to call you over to him.

You gingerly padded over to his bed and with a little effort jumped up.

“I’m gonna guess it wasn’t growing pains that woke you up.” Dean chuckled.

“Ok, I’m sorry, bad timing. Now come on peanut, stop giving me that face and come in closer.” He said shifting so he could comfortably open up his arms for you.

You still continued to pout, but scooted into his embrace until your body felt lighter.

“Sorry.” You quietly mumbled, it came out kind of funny because of how your cheek was squished against your brother’s chest.

Dean pulled back and nudged your chin up, signaling you to make eye contact with him before resting his hand on your shoulder. His comforting softness melted away as he turned dead serious.

“Listen to me, do not ever and I mean ever apologize to someone because you’re upset. Ok?” He searched your eyes waiting for an answer, which you gave him with a nod.

“Now tell me why someone broke into my room and stole my favorite flannel.” And just like that Dean pulled you back into him and your softy of a brother was back.

“Dad yells at me when I don’t sleep and when I cry and when I ask him questions, so I came in here to cry” Even your big brother’s arms couldn’t shield you from the sadness that entered your body.

“Well I’m not dad, neither is Mort the moose, and neither is Sammy.” Dean started.

“Sammy snores now, he’s old.” You shot Sam a dirty look even though he was dead asleep.

“Yeah Sammy is old now, he drools too.” Dean joined you in giving his younger brother the stink eye. “Now tell me, what has my peanut so upset?”

“Nightmare.”

“Nightmare? Do you wanna talk about it?” Dean began playing with your hair as he awaited your response.

Staring up at your older brother’s face you thought about it.

“No.” You wanted to say what happened, to get it out of your mind, but you didn’t want to tell him about how you saw his still body covered in blood with his stomach in shreds.

“No? That’s okay.”

You guys sat quietly listening to the traffic outside and Sam’s snores. After a while Dean assumed you had fallen asleep, but just as he shut his own eyes your little voice stirred him.

“D?”

“Mm, yeah (Y/N)?’

“Are monsters real?”

~Present~

Dean watched you hang your head again before scooting to the side and opening up his covers.

“Wanna talk about it kid?”

Even in your sad and scared state a genuine smile broke out across your face, it was small, but still genuine. Without responding to your brother you kicked off the soft blanket that you had fought Sam for and walked over to Dean’s bed. Since motel beds are always oddly tall you had to do a little jump to get onto it, shooting a quick glare at Dean for being clearly amused at your struggle. Tentatively Dean opened up his arms to you and you awkwardly shuffled in until your head hit his shoulder and you instantly melted. The both of you sat there without a word, wondering what the other was thinking, unaware that you were both thinking the same thing. You thought about how long it had been since you two laid like this, both of you becoming aware of how long it had really been since you showed each other affection and comfort, and how after all of these years you two felt so natural. Neither of you took into account how the other’s muscles softened, how the past few years of Azazel, the door to Hell, your dad’s death, Sam’s death, Dean’s death, demons, vampires, and vengeful spirits all released from your guys’ bodies. For the first time in months neither of you cared about Lucifer or Michael or any other dick with wings.

“Hey Dean.” You finally broke the near silence.

“Yeah?” Your ear being pressed to Dean’s chest made his voice sound deeper and you could feel his jaw move against the top of your head.

“Do you remember when I was super young and we were staying at that nice hotel in Seattle and I had that really bad nightmare?” You slipped the comforter under your brother’s arm so you could fidget with it.

“Yeah I do actually, but how the hell do you remember it? You were like what, six? So that means it was ten whole years ago.”

“I don’t think I would remember it if it wasn’t the start of the recurring nightmare I always have.” The first part was a lie. That night had been the first time you ever truly felt like you had a family, the first time you had felt comfort in your life. You could never forget that.

“Oh.” Dean began to play with your hair, taking three small pieces and trying to see if he could still remember how to braid, something he learned because you hated how John would always cut your hair.

“This dream,” you started, “it’s bad. It’s always the same house, this weird grey one with cracked floors and for some reason the walls are cement. It’s weird. But in the dream I can never find my way, it’s like a labyrinth and every time I get more and more lost the hallways get darker and darker. It always starts with me screaming for Sammy and he doesn’t respond, but I can hear him. I can hear him.”, Your voice begins to break, “I can hear him screaming no over and over again, like he’s getting attacked and then when I call out for him again he’s silent. So I’ll start running to find him, I guess I’ve always had a hunter's instinct. Then when I’m running around I trip and every time I trip I always get this feeling of fear about dad yelling at me for always being clumsy. But then when I. '' You stop, dropping your head and gaze so far down that all you can see is your own chest. Dean drops the chunk of hair he was twisting in his fingers and looks down at you.

“It’s okay.” He whispers, lightly squeezing your arm to ground you, something he always does when you’re upset.

His encouragement only made things worse as tears began to fall again. Closing your eyes you take a quick deep breath.

“When I look down to see what I tripped over it’s you. You’re dead. Bloody with your stomach all ripped up, I never see the monster, but it must be something with claws. Then it just ends there. Tonight was kind of different though. Our ages are always different in the dream. Sammy’s voice always sounds like it did when he was 16 so I don’t think he changes, but sometimes I’m a kid and you’re a teenager like when I first had it or we’re both teenagers or we’re the ages we are now or sometimes I’m a kid and you’re an adult. But tonight, tonight I was 16 like I am now and you were a little kid.”

~Flashback~

Dean didn’t know what to do, he felt like the deer that stopped in the headlights and actually got hit. He’d been through this before with Sam, but he had been older and wasn’t already upset when they had the conversation. He had felt guilty every time he lied to Sam about monsters and didn’t want to give you that same false hope, but he resented his dad for teaching him about monsters when he was this young.

“I’m not sure of anything, (Y/N).” It technically wasn’t a lie, while Dean was sure that monsters existed he wasn’t sure of what to tell you.

“Well actually no, I am sure of one thing. Nothing and I mean nothing, no man, no woman, no animal, and sure as hell no monsters will ever hurt you because you are strong and I will kick their butt if they even try.” Dean meant that fully, he’s meant that since the day his dad sat him and Sam down to tell them they have a little sibling.

“Pink promise?” You said looking up at Dean.

“Pink promise?” He pulled back and questioned you.

“A pink promise.” You huffed, freeing your arm out from under Dean’s and extending your pinky finger.

“Oohh, a pinky promise.” Dean held up his arm and extended his own pinky.

“No, it’s pink promise.” You pulled your hand back.

“Ok, I pink promise that nothing will ever hurt you.” And to that you guys joined pinkies.

~Present~

You begin to quietly sob into your brother’s chest. Dean put his hand at the nape of your neck and put his cheek on the top of your head and let you cry it out, as you calmed down he pulled back and kissed your forehead.

“Hey look, peanut. Sammy and I are not going anywhere, we will always be with you, ok. A lot is going on right now and it will all be okay, we’ve gotten out of so many situations that we shouldn’t have and this one will be no different. I pink promise.” Dean raised up his arm and extended his pinky.

“Oh fuck off.” You lightly hit his hand.

Unfazed Dean kept his hand up and smugly smiled down at you. You sigh and extend your own pinky. As your fingers wrapped around each other your annoyed façade broke, your smile was joined by a few tears.

“Pink promise.”

A/N: So hey, your local forest wench here. This is definitely different from other stuff I post. I’ve never written a fanfiction before(so basically sorry if it’s not too good and please be patient with me), but I do read a lot of of it and maladaptive daydream a lot so I always have plenty of ideas. I came up with this idea this morning and really liked it, thought that maybe other people would like it and that it would be kind of greedy to keep it to myself. I’m actually really insanely proud of this ngl. If people like this and I feel comfortable, I might even write some more in the future.

417 notes · View notes

wish-i-wasnt-a-coward · 3 years

Text

Family Cuddle Pile

a/n: I actually wrote this a while ago but it was perfect for the request. Theirs like, no content for this ship an I love it so much! Thank you for reading :) @arodynamic-enby

Pairings: romantic Anxceitmus and kid!Patton also super background Logince

Warnings: tattoos, less than ideal parent mentions, food mention, and light cursing

Word count: 1,844

-----------------------------------------------

Remus flopped out of bed, throwing his body carelessly across the room. He hastily threw on his clothes. Short shorts, ripped fishnets, a vest that was more patches than original material, really big clunky shoes, and a ripped up band-t. He also hooked his favorite bone earrings in his tattered earlobes.

He stomped into his apartment’s kitchen. He grabbed a stale piece of bread he soaked it in coffee. Yawned and grabbed his bag, racing out the door.

His brother was waiting for him at the tattoo shop, sketching a new idea. Unlike him, Roman only had a few tattoos, including not one, not two, not three… but three Disney quotes, a frog on a mushroom, a rose on his arm, and a constellation. Most of his tattoos were covered by tasteful burgundy overalls and a white button-down shirt.

Remus’ tattoos were also mostly covered by his clothes. But he had a tattoo sleeve depicting the garden of Eden, a matching frog on a mushroom, a quote from one of Roman’s books, medically accurate bone structures on his hand, a realistic spider on his neck, and a snake wrapping around his non-sleeved arm. And those were just the visible ones.

Suffice to say, the twins were very different.

Remus threw his bag onto the floor in the backroom, “Ro, when’s the first appointment!!” he yelled. “Your’s? At 11. FYI, Jan n’ Pat are coming over at 12, for motivation” Remus smiled, fuckin’ superb.

He busied himself in collecting the ink and preparing the tattoo gun. The client wanted a fucking orange on their wrist, it should only take an hour or two but Remus was not excited to do a frickin’ orange circle.

The prissy orange bitch came in and Remus got to work. They didn’t move much and only cried a little bit when the needle started jabbing at their skin. Remus liked this part of the process, stabbing people consensually was his favorite thing ever… also the art part but stabbing people!

Almost exactly an hour later the door jingled open. “Dada!!” a tiny voice called back into the store. “I’ll be there in a minute patty-cake” Remus called from his spot hunched over the client's arm.

He added the final touches to the fruit and helped the orange bitch off the chair. Roman swept the client away, Remus practically ran to greet his partner and son.

Janus wore a leather corset over a black collared shirt and baggy pants, their long platinum hair framed their face under their signature hat. They were holding hands with a toddler wearing mostly pink and blue, his blond hair (that matched Janus’) was a mop of curls barely held together by a few butterfly clips.

“Dada, Dada!!! I got you a flower” the little boy cried, letting go of Janus’ hand and stumbling towards the tall man who scooped him up. Patton giggled and held out a sweaty flower clenched in his chubby fist.

Remus accepted the flower with a gasp, ”this is really for me?” he said joyfully. Adjusting the small boy in his arms Remus turned towards Janus who was looking at the pair with a disgustingly sappy expression.

“What are you lookin’ at hot stuff?” Remus teased. “Shut it you,” Janus said, pressing a kiss to Remus’ check. Patton made a noise, “icky” he said pushing Janus away. They laughed, “yes darling, we’re very icky”.

“When’s verge-“

“he’ll be home at 4”

“Dope”

“Stop by the Sleepy Café before you bring Pat to the apartment?”

“Can do scootal-lo!”

Remus turned back to the little boy in his arms, “looks like you're stuck with me squirt”. Patton beamed and snuggled into Remus’ chest. Janus smiled again, “I’ll see you, boys, at dinner,” they said, ruffling Pat's hair and peaking Remus on the lips quickly so as to not upset the toddler. “Bye-bye Janny!!” Patton called after Janus as they left for work.

“Righty-o,” Remus said, carrying Patton into the back room. “I know Ro’s got a couple coloring books, wanna do those for a bit?” Patton nodded and reached towards the ground to be put down. Remus plopped Patton on the couch and pulled out the book and pens as well as a sketchbook off his own. They sat together coloring and drawing until Roman came back to hug Patton.

“Ah, my favorite nephew!” Roman said, scooping up the little boy. Patton laughed and pulled Roman’s hair. “Roro, can I color your arm pictures??” he asked, pointing to Roman’s rose tattoo. Roman plopped the toddler back down on the couch and handed him a pen.

Patton went to work on the rose, scribbling reds and pinks and greens across his arm. Roman gave him complements each time Patton paused, and each time Patton shushed him and went back to work. Remus finished up his sketch, adding it to the pile of tattoo ideas they were eventually going to put up-front, and sat next to the toddler.

“That’s really good pat-”

“Shhhhhhhh”

Remus nodded and mimed zipping his lips. He liked spending time with the kid. They weren’t biologically related but who gives a fuck about blood, unless it’s outside of your body, then it’s fun.

---------------------------------------------------------------

“I don’ wanna” Patton wined his dad sighed “I know bubbles but we gotta go home to Papa and Janny, isn’t that fun” Patton considered this, “but Roro’s pretty arm picture” he argued. Remus scratched the back of his neck, “Pffffff- Ummm, how about this, we go home now and I’ll take you back to the shop tomorrow after pre-school”

Patton brightened considerably, “ok” he chirped. “up please” the toddler’s chubby hands reached towards Remus who obediently scooped him up with a coo. After all who was he to say no to uppy hands.

“See ya tomorrow, have fun on your date with the nerd” Remus sang as he snatched his bag juggling the still fussy Patton in his other arm. “Fu- Frick off Re. Say hi to your partners for me,” Romans said affectionately and waved as his twin left the building.

Remus happily trotted out into the road. The tattoo shop was located on a quaint little street in the more commercial segment of their town only a short walk from Janus’ job.

A light drizzle floated around them and the air was warm and comforting. Patton squealed as a large drop of water hit him in the head, prompting a laugh from Remus.

A jingle sounded through the peaceful cafe, the brown room was illuminated by those cool old fashion lights and a lovely array of pastries made the air smell of chocolate and blueberry scones. But the scones, as delicious as they were, weren’t the snack Remus was here for

“Hey babe- Remus why are you soaking wet”

“Puddle” Patton screeched.

“Kid’s right, Puddle.”

Janus pinched their eyebrows, “ya know what, I’m not even surprised anymore. Just make sure Patton doesn’t catch a cold” they scolded.

Remus nodded and saluted in mock seriousness, “yes captain” he said and pressed a kiss to Janus’ face over the cash register, “I’ll see ya in a bit” Remus grinned and led Patton back out of the cafe.

Janus sighed lovingly as they watched their boyfriend and son turn to cross the street, Patton’s hand clasped around Remus’ happily. “Stop looking so happy, you're scaring the customers” Remy teased from across the counter. “Ha, Ha,” Janus glared and went back to work”

Janus’ apartment was a cute two-bedroom space on the fourth floor of the building. The furniture was an interesting combo of vintage and things from the side of the road. The vintage parts came from their parent’s house, their father had died two years after Janus’ had run away and hadn’t thought to write them out of the will.

The three of them had made a date out of customizing the few pieces that Janus wanted to keep. The customization mainly included darkening everything and adding more gothic touches. Virgil had done the fabrics, Remus the painting, and Janus moral support/ director.

The three partners had also painted the kitchen/dining room/living room black with one yellow wall. Janus and Virgil’s room was dark purple instead of black with highlights in the same yellow. Patton’s room was the only one that didn’t look marginally like a cave.

The walls were a cream-yellow that lit up in the morning sunlight. After Janus announced that they were going to have a baby Remus had spent three hours painting the grey ceiling with white fluffy clouds. It was one of his favorite projects.

Patton of course had no regard for the work put into the entirety of his home and was the usual menace of a toddler. And today a toddler with cheerios, truly a sight even god would tremble before.

Remus plopped down next to Patton who was pushing cheerios around his highchair tray with an intense focus. He smiled at the little boy and flicked on the tv, “got any requests pip-squeak?” Remus asked. Patton looked thoughtful, “dead lady!!” he cried excitedly hitting the tray with his fists, cheerios flew everywhere. Remus nodded, understanding, “Corpse bride coming up!” he picked a few cheerios from the couch “you really are Verge’s kid”

When Janus got home Patton was curled up on Remus’s chest. Both slept soundly despite the dead folk on the screen in front of them singing about the wedding.

Janus smiled, their family was fucking adorable. They slipped off their shoes and snuggled up into Remus who hummed happily and pulled Janus into the hug still asleep.

----------------------------------------

Three hours later Virgil trudged up the four flights of stairs huffing indignantly with each step. Of course, he could take the elevator… but it might break down and he would be stuck for hours. Or someone could get into the elevator with him and he would have to interact with a stranger. So stairs it was.

He rummaged around his baggy hoodie, running his fingers through his dark purple hair in annoyance when he couldn’t find the key. Once he found it Virgil carefully (as he did everything) opened the apartment door. His combat books clunked satisfyingly against the hardwood floors as he entered his house. Virgil felt the tension leave his muscles, he was home. He glanced across the room, looking for his family.

Virgil’s face lit up like a god damned Christmas tree.

Across the room, both his partners and his son were curled up sleeping happily. Drool covered Remus’ face and Janus was snoring, they were the most precious thing Virgil had seen all freakin day.

The three of them woke as Virgil wrapped his arms around them, Patton squealed in excitement. “Hello, darling” Janus mumbled sleepily into Virgil’s arm. Remus just groaned and nestled into the hug. The toddler wriggled between his dads squealing profusely. “Shhh, s’ sleepy time” Remus mumbled, rolling deeper into the cuddle pile and shutting Patton up.

Virgil smiled and pressed a kiss to his partner’s cheek. “Mmm, love you” they purred. “Love you too Jan,” Virgil said, nestling his face in their neck. Virgil knew he would have to start dinner soon but that could wait, for now, cuddles.

204 notes · View notes

lonely-lost-soul · 3 years

Text

Fight For Me

(C!Technoblade x gn!possessive!Reader)

Request 11: could I maybe request some c!techno x gn!possessive!reader fluff that follows someone trying to threaten techno while completely brushing off the reader only for the reader to step in and feral threaten them back (perhaps some fighting ensues with reader coming out on top) and then techno is awestruck by his partner which is then where the fluff comes in

Requested By: @bowlofsoup

I hope you like it!

“Sweetheart can you do me a favor and pass me the blaze powder,” Technoblade asked from his hunched-over position at his brewing station. He was wearing more casual clothes, his glasses loose on his nose, hair pulled back into a messy bun. You sat next to him on one of the chests, legs swinging up and down, you were wearing one of Techno’s oversized shirts.

“Sure thing,” You hummed tossing open the chest and handing him a bottle of said powder, he reached forward to take the bottle from your hands and you kissed his lips before he could take the bottle. Technoblade purred happily, his eyes going half-lidded at the surprise kiss, you chuckled against his lips as he flushed pink.

“Cringe.”

“Nerd,” You shot back with a smile he rolled his eyes focusing back on his potions, “Why’re you making these again?” Your gaze shifted towards the window. It was snowing again, it was always snowing. You hated that you were getting sick of the constant cold you wondered what the weather was like back at L’manburg or L’manhole was a better term for the once-prosperous nation. Technoblade looked back up at you, his hand reached out to interlock with your own, which caught your attention snapping you out of your daydreaming and you smiled back at him.

“Someone wants to buy them off me, figure sees what they’d offer me for it, not like I’m worried about getting jumped or anything,” Technoblade smirked coyly at you, almost like he was awaiting your praise. You didn’t fall for it though, simply letting out a little hum in approval, he frowned and cleared his throat.

“Oh sorry. Oh baby you’re so brave and strong, no one can take you down.” You pressed your hands together swooning sarcastically, Technoblade frowned and put you into a headlock. You laughed loudly instead of fighting against him you snuggled in his hold, “You’d never hurt me.”

“Try me.”

“Is that a challenge?” You mused with a flutter of your eyelashes, Technoblade flushed a little and grumbled under his breath. He could feel the smugness radiating off your entire being, if you were anyone else he would’ve sent you through a wall.

“Just shut up and grab a bag for the potions. They’re almost done.”

“Yes sir.” You saluted hopping off the chest to grab your bag from the coat rack, it was a soft brown bag covered in patches. Holding the bag open you allowed Technoblade to place the potions inside of them, “we ready to go?”

“You grabbed your coat and had breakfast right?” He raised an eyebrow, it seemed to be your turn to flush and Technoblade frowned, “Right?” Technoblade’s eyes narrowed in your direction and he watched you tap your fingers together sheepishly. “You’re a disaster, you’d be dead without me. Eat,” Technoblade dragged you into the kitchen and pulled out a roll for you to munch on, “Jam?”

“Yes please.” You gave a firm nod as he grabbed the knife and spread it on the bread before handing it to you.

“Remember to eat, can’t have my Starlight starving themselves,” The way you turned red made the hybrid smirk coyly at you. “You mean too much to me to go out in such a lame way, there has to be at least a little bit of bloodshed. Maybe some dismemberment if you’re lucky.”

“Damn and to think I was flattered for half a minute.” Techno chuckled at your comment, a deep rumble in his chest, you couldn’t help but smile yourself. You bit off a piece of bread, teeth tearing through the food easily “Ready to go now?”

“Finish eating then we can go. There’s no rush.”

“Isn’t someone waiting for us?”

“Let them wait,” Technoblade shrugged, wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you close. You melted into his warm body closing your eyes, just taking a moment to bask in your love for the Blood God, how did you get so lucky?

Unbeknownst to you, he was thinking the same thing about you.

Eventually, you pulled away from him, much to his displeasure, and reluctantly said you both should head out. He huffed in protest and you pecked his lips, assuring him that the long journey would be worth it in the end. You both slide on your winter gear and headed towards Carl in the stables, you scratched the horse’s nose and he whinnied at the attention from his second favorite person. Technoblade tossed him an apple to which he munched on happily before applying his saddlebags to the sides of the horse, he hopped onto him and held a hand out to you. You took the hand with a wild smile swinging your leg over the side of Carl and wrapping your arms around Technoblade’s waist securely. He looked at you over his shoulder and pecked your forehead lightly, you cooed at him in response, and just like that the both of you were off. As you traversed the Tundra, your adoring boyfriend decided it would be a great time to quiz you on your fighting skills. He always did this, especially when he was nervous about something, you concluded a part of him was nervous the deal would go south and you’d end up hurt. You squeezed him a little and answered all his questions in hopes you’d ease his worries, it seemed to work as he relaxed against your chest. You would’ve played with his hair if it wasn’t tied up in a bun, so instead, you settled for giving him gentle kisses on the back of his neck.

He was a wreck by the time you got to the meeting spot, all red-faced and embarrassed. You did feel a little guilty but it was also very entertaining to watch him slide off the horse all frustrated with your antics. “You’re lucky we have somewhere to be,” he vaguely threatened and you hummed,

“What happened to ‘they can wait?’” His red eyes narrowed into slits and Carl stomped his foot, “oh you’re such a party pooper.” You complained as the horse nudged you forward towards the meeting spot. Technoblade huffed now turning his glare on Carl for interrupting your moment. He adjusted the sword at his hip and marched forward expecting you to follow, you did, but it’s the principle that irked you. Walking a little way down the wooded path you came across a man in a beanie leaning against a tree, he had small yellow wings and a scar going from his right eye down to the top of his lip. Your head snapped to Techno and you hissed, “You didn’t tell me it was Quackity! The mother fucker planned your execution!”

“Hush.” He waved you off, “money is money. If he can offer us something good we shouldn’t complain.”

“But-”

“Finally!” The man groaned stretching his arms above his head, his small wings fluttered as he pushed off the tree, “Took you long enough. Who’s your little friend?” He raised an eyebrow at your stature and you glared hotly at him, already wanting to tear his throat out.

“My partner.” Technoblade answered monotonously, “Is that important?”

“Romantically or like your bodyguard.” He snickered at the mental image of the Blood God hiring a bodyguard for himself.

“That’s none of your business.” You snapped, Technoblade’s hand squeezed your shoulder trying to calm you down.

“I suppose not.” Quackity clapped his hands together, his two golden rings bouncing off one another making a soft clicking sound, “let’s get down to business than Mr. Blade. I want the potions you have, what exactly do you want in return?”

“What can you give me?” Technoblade raised an eyebrow, his hand never leaving the bag of potions at his side, Quackity tapped his chin in thought.

“Anything you desire. I came into a… a lot of money recently, a lot of people owe me a few favors. So I can truly give you anything,” Quackity smirked as you noticed Technoblade’s eye twitch, he didn’t like the sound of someone having so much power, and to be honest you didn’t either.

“Huh. well alright then.” He grunted drumming his fingers against the bag, “these favors people owe you, what exactly did you do for them?”

“Are you asking me to spill all my secrets? Techno you dog.” He purred out teasingly, “they made some bets with me and they lost simply as that.”

“What did they lose?” You asked and Quackity rolled his eyes,

“You’re a talker aren’t you?”

“Back off.” Technoblade snarled earning another eyebrow raise from the man, but you did briefly see fear flicker across his eyes. “You talk to them like that again deals off and I take another one of your teeth, understand me.”

“Understood, big guy. No hard feelings.” He held up his hands in defense his tiny wings ruffling a little bit showing off his nervousness, “Although your attitude just proves my point. You’re a brute and you’ll always be a brute.” Technoblade didn’t respond to the harassing but had a feeling you might as the pressure on your shoulder increased. Your jaw was set hard, as Quackity continued, “you truly are more monster than human.”

Oh, he did not just say that to Techno.

In one swift movement, you pulled Technoblade’s sword from its sheath at his side and drew it in front of you, pure anger flooding through your veins. Techno tried to grab the sword before you did something stupid but you were already charging at Quackity. He looked a little frightened as an ax appeared at his side, “Take it back.” You spit as metal clashed against metal, your eyes blazing with unadulterated rage, “Take it back right now. He’s so much more than that.” You swung the sword back which caused Quackity to stumble backward throwing off his rhythm,

“Bite me bitch.” Quackity snapped back attempting to regain his footing as he blocked another blow from you,

“Don’t tempt me birdie.” You sassed right back, which threw him off his game again not expecting you to come back with a retort and a nickname. You kicked him solidly in the chest and he fell flat on his ass the sword swung and the tip dug into his throat. His adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped nervously,

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.” He sputtered out as you narrowed his eyes, “look I’m sorry okay, okay! My mouth gets the best of me sometimes, I’ll admit that! I’m a humble guy!” You rolled your sharp (e/c) eyes at that statement, “Look, deal still on this time I’ll throw in two gold rings yeah?” He swallowed thickly “Also all the diamond I have on me and in my enderchest.”

Turning to glance at Techno for the first time he cleared his throat looking absolutely flushed. He shifted uncomfortably and marched over to the both of you a hand resting on your lower back. Technoblade glared down at the duck hybrid,

“We don’t want your rings. I want all the money you’ve won from your deals and a god apple.”

“I don’t have-”

“Then think of it as an I.O.U. birdy.” You pursed your lips feeling Technoblade squeeze your back, “Deal?” The tip of the sword dug a little deeper into his throat,

“FUCK! Yes, yes deal!” He squawked and you removed the sword, Technoblade immediately took it from your hands shooting you a look that screamed,

‘We are talking about this later.’

Technoblade tossed the contents of the bag at Quackity and he snatched up all the potions he could shoving them into his chest. Immediately handing you the diamonds he had on him, as Quackity scurried away Technoblade didn’t remove his hand from your back. Once his yellow wings disappeared into the treeline Technoblade spun you around and pressed a kiss to your lips. It immediately stole your breath away, as you stumbled back a few steps.

“That.” He kissed your jaw, “was the hottest,” he kissed your neck next, “thing we’ve seen in a while.” Technoblade purred pressing another passionate kiss to your lips, your hands desperately tried to pull out his hair from his bun to give it a hard yank. A louder purr rumbled from his chest as he pulled away to rest his forehead on yours,

“So the voices liked my badassery too?”

“Oh yeah,” his eyes fluttered a little his breathing hitching, “god they want me to just bite the shit out of you. Mark you all over. You can’t tease them like, they’re sensitive.” You cooed softly tracing his jawline with nimble fingers,

“I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to them once we get home.” His eyes shot up to meet your own lidded ones, with a loud whistle he called Carl over, he scooped you up in his arms causing you to laugh loudly.

You could safely say that was the fastest you and Techno had ever gotten home.

686 notes · View notes

hoezhatelola · 3 years

Text

Pretty Little Head

Yandere Deku x Fem!Reader

warnings: yandere tendencies(obviously), 18+ NSFW, gore/violence, drug usage, bondage, dubcon/noncon, praise kink, oral(female receiving), oral(male receiving), MDNI

a/n: this was actually a request i received outside of tumblr but i decided to make one here too! i’m so excited to write this one, i think that underneath deku’s innocent appearance he would make one hell of a yandere.

word count: 4.1k

deku had never anticipated someone like you would be the source of all his stress, pleasure, and love. despite being quirkless and utterly small compared to deku himself, you were always so kind. you were always there to take his hand and help him up when bakugou would push him down. you were always there to ruffle his hair and reassure him he’d do great on an exam. you were always there to offer him a snack or some extra lunch, even if you were hungry.

it left deku confused in the dust, as a child and still now, completely lost in how or why you were so nice to him. even when he took off to pursue his career of being a pro hero, which he was very successful in doing, you were still there to visit him or patch up his scratches.

in his bright green eyes and from beneath his curly green hair, this was enough for anyone to reserve the right to feel a burning hatred towards your significant other. he watched in anger as you sat on that blue-eyed idiot’s lap, tangling your fingers in his dark hair and whispering dirty nothings into his ear. he watched in jealousy as a stupid smirk spread across his lips, well aware there was something threatening to spring upwards as he palmed the fat of your thigh in response.

much to his dismay, he couldn’t watch you all hours of the day due to hero work. that didn’t mean he didn’t keep tabs on you however, which he accomplished by using his friends to update him on your whereabouts. who you were with, what you were doing, what you were wearing, what time you got home, when you fell asleep and when you wake up- he knew everything.

at the end of the day, he was still your best friend. you had invited him over one evening and you were telling him about your day, him smiling in response and just looking at you in awe, listening to you babble away.

“and then it started raining! so i had to run to my car and i ended up slipping, see?” you pointed towards your thigh where a large, and honestly, painful looking scrape was. his eyes widened in his response as he analyzed the mark. “that looks like it must’ve hurt, bunny.”

your heart repeated that same fluttering that it has been ever since you were teenagers at response to that nickname of yours. you’d think by now you’d have gotten used to it, huh?

“it did! and i was just laying there like an idiot in the rain for a good two minutes.” you laughed, emphasizing the word idiot. he chuckled in response, seemingly distracted with something else as he admired your smile and the way it lit up your entire cozy apartment.

“hey, you okay?” you asked suddenly, running a hand through his locks, the two of you seated on your sofa with the tv on in front of you. naturally as best friends, the two of you have had a few intimate moments, but they were always platonic. even though he knew this, he loved you too much for his breath not to hitch at the feeling of your soft fingertips playing with his hair.

“oh! yeah, i-i’m fine!” he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck and beaming brightly. “hero work just gets me tired and all, you know?” of course you didn’t know. what was he thinking saying that? you were always insecure of being quirkless, your childhood bully, bakugou, not being any help.

you pulled your hand back and looked away, your eyelids slightly lowering themselves, giving you a less excited expression. deku felt his heart drop and his stomach turn inside out, he hated himself for getting so caught up in his own thoughts of fluffy handcuffs adorning your wrists and your bodies colliding that he had forgotten to think before speaking.

“i didn’t mean it like that, bunny!” he said quickly, reaching out to grab your hand when you dodged him. “what are you-”

“this isn’t the first time you’ve said something like that, deku.” you muttered, immediately questioning yourself afterwards. were you being too sensitive? “even if you didn’t mean it this time, i- i just hate hearing you say it…” your eyes locked into the floor, your fingers now fiddling with each other.

although deku didn’t always have the strongest memory, he never failed to remember that some things in the world were far too fragile to be left out there. that they were too sensitive and too kind and too innocent to be yelled at. but sometimes- and only sometimes, did they deserve to be punished.

he did his best to soften his voice before scooting closer and placing a much larger and scarred up hand on top of yours. “bunny, i really didn’t mean it this time. you know that there’s nothing wrong with being quirkless, right?” he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, now revealing your tear-stained side profile.

head now resting on his chest as he sat next to you, wrapping his arms around you in attempt to comfort you, his heart beating through his clothes. “i’ve always wanted to be a hero, since we were little. pathetic how i thought i actually had a chance…” you mumbled into his chest, blinking back more tears and suppressing a sniffle. “when you got into U.A., and your quirk developed late, i was s’ happy fer’ you. i looked up to you and i- i always wa-wanted to be jus’ like y-you.” your words became more jumbled as your tears welled up and you hiccuped multiple times.

deku was then reminded of the significant fact that he never told you the truth about his quirk, and he never planned to. always wanted to be like him, huh? he allowed you to cry into his chest, enveloping you in all of the possible warmth that he could, feeling his opportunity nearing closer and closer.

“looked up to me? hah… bunny, i always looked up to you.” he tilted your chin up and wiped a tear away with his calloused thumb, his strong arms still around your smaller frame. “you’ve always been so kind and intelligent, and a lot stronger than me. hell, you stood up to kacchan when i couldn’t!”

a small smile worked it’s way onto your lips in response. “that’s my bunny, there’s that smile..” deku said, and you giggled, hugging him tighter than before. “aah, thanks deku.” you sighed, “maybe i was being a little, smh- dramatic.” you sniffled, shrugging your shoulders.

“not at all… hey, how about some of your favorite tea? you know i make it the best!” he said enthusiastically as you curled up with a blanket that he had gotten you on your last birthday. “why not?” you giggled as he walked into the kitchen and prepared your drink.

an unfamiliar, soft sensation could be felt on your wrists, restraining you from moving. the surface you were on was particularly soft and comfortable, and you hazily opened your eyes to be met with a large room. you looked up and spotted a pair of fluffy, pink handcuffs locked tightly onto your wrists above your head, keeping you restrained to the white, wooden headboard.

the four walls were painted a baby pink, a large mirror, decorated with swirls on the edges hanging in the middle, and the entire room lined with stuffies, trinkets, pillows and everything soft. from what you could see, the door had more locks on it than you could count with your blurred vision, and surely, heavy approaching footsteps could be heard from the other side of the door.

you held your breath and closed your eyes, turning your head and pretending to be asleep. your lips parted in a gentle breath for air, your body remaining still as the unknown person entered the room and locked the door behind them. you felt the right side of the bed dip as if someone was looming over you, attempting to get a better look at something.

“i know you’re awake, bunny. i heard you tugging at the pretty little handcuffs.” your eyes snapped open at the sound of your best friend’s voice. his eyes locked with yours as he set a plate down beside the bed and pulled you to sit up straight. “hey, pretty girl.”

“d-deku?” you stuttered, eyes widening as the feeling in your legs was now returning. “yes, my love?” he replied, the plate of food now in his lap as he began to cut the piece of meat for you. “what- what the hell is going on? why am i handcuffed to this bed? where even am i?”

“shh, shh… relax, bunny. eat a little first, i made your favorite!” he shoved the piece of steak up against your lips using the fork and you shook your head now. his knuckles gripped the fork so tightly they turned white, and so you complied and chewed. “remember how i told you i was renovating my basement? welcome! i made it all pretty and comfortable for you! i have all your favorite colors and i got all these fluffy plushies and blankets!” he said with too much excitement.

“ahh!” his eyes lit up, “we’re gonna have so much fun here, for the rest of forever!” you swallowed the bite you took before he was already offering you more, obviously eager to see you full. “deku… i’m still confused here. uncuff me, now.”

“tch… you’re really ungrateful, you know.” he muttered, continuing to feed you and caress you. “how am i ungrateful, huh?” you asked furiously, a complete fool for thinking you could even remotely amount to his level. you locked your eyes with his as he set the food to the side and forced you to drink water and remain hydrated. beyond his insane thought process and maniacal grins, even an idiot could see he still cared.

“first, i wake up in some completely random room, handcuffed to a bed! and then you come in here, offer me a meal, and then when i want to be uncuffed, im ungrateful? deku, you need to ex-” he leaned in a cut you off completely, your lips attaching.

you turned your head in attempt to look away, to which he grabbed your chin and held you still. his hands trailing down to between your thighs, effortlessly spreading them apart, your fighting back doing nothing at all. his hands tightened their grips on your inner thighs as his lips continued on your neck. he found your hopeless squirming adorable, but irritating.

“gah… stay still.” his tone firmed and his eyes narrowed, again looking into yours. you’d seen him mad before, of course, and you’d seen him determined and impatient and annoyed, but he was never so intimidating towards you. deku realized this shortly after, immediately softening his tone as he dipped his head down to between your legs, nibbling at the fat of your thighs.

“what are you- aah…” you gasped suddenly, your head snapping downwards to see his tongue run a long, clean lick over your slit from on top of your cute little panties. you knew you stood no chance against the number one hero, and you’d never admit to the growing dampness between your legs. your thighs threatened to grind together as his tongue and teeth continued teasing the edges of your panties, avoiding where you genuinely needed him.

“deku, pl-please don’ do th-this.” you gulped down, a tear making it’s way down your cheek. he looked up at you and smiled brightly and pulled down your panties, throwing them to the side, much to your confusion. “but look at you, bunny..” he ran two fingers along your now naked, glistening cunt as your juices coated them. “you’re completely soaked for me. you don’t actually want me to stop, do you? hmm..”he hummed.

“i… i don’t…” you struggled desperately to find words as your cheeks flushed red at the feeling of his eyes seeing things no one else ever has before. “right…” he smugly said both at the feeling of knowing how much you were second guessing yourself, and seeing you blush so furiously, spreading your legs apart even further, holding you down once again, effortlessly. “now just be my good bunny and take it.”

his words sent you over the fucking edge, your thighs grinding together for some type of friction as he laughed with a sense of superiority, now lying completely on his stomach and lapping at your folds. he wasted no time, and the feeling of his wet tongue slide across your womanhood was a sensation you were unfamiliar with. the last ounce of your strength was used when fighting back, and so you just lied there and took it, just like deku said.

your sweet taste drove him more insane than he already was. he watched as your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your brows knitted together, and he swore he fell in love with you all over again. his thumb was brought to your clit before he ran careful circles over it, blowing hot air against your pussy when you attempted to squirm away, causing goosebumps to rise against your skin. you could feel him smirking against you, and at this point you didn’t really care.

“de-deku… i’m- what the f-fuck..” you were at a loss for words. obviously you knew what an orgasm was, you’re not an idiot. this time was different than all of the other times you had willingly explored there on your own. it was something so much stronger, so much better. “i know, bunny. go ahead pretty girl… cum for me.” he spoke, muffled against your juices and folds.

his command was all it took for you to feel a strong coil within your stomach snap, and your mouth formed a silent ‘O,’ shape as your body shook in pleasure and you saw white spots all over your vision. your orgasm washed over you like a crashing wave, your desperate and pathetic fingers digging into the soft handcuffs you still wore.

“deku? ‘m tired now…” you mumbled in response to him unzipping his pants and undoing your handcuffs. “already?” he said playfully, but his face was nothing but serious. you nodded and hummed quietly in response as he looked down at you, noting how angelic you looked in this warm lighting that he had set up throughout the room using small lamps, cozy lights, and candles. not real candles, of course- what if you got burned when he wasn’t there?

“we’re not done yet, pretty girl. on your knees.” he looked down at you as he stood at the foot of the bed, watching you crawl over to him. you looked up at him, unsure of what to do next. “why am i here?” his eyes widened in realization that you actually didn’t know what to do this time, and it only made him more excited and honored to be your first. he pulled his pants down a little more, revealing his black boxers and a huge bulge.

“go ahead, take it out.” you hesitantly reached towards the bulge and pulled his boxers down, his large and throbbing member springing up and slapping you right in the nose. “ow…” you mumbled to yourself, and deku laughed. “fuck, you’re so cute. now take it in your hands and pump it a few times, use that pretty mouth.”

you ran your fingers across the tip, not knowing how much that stimulated him. after hearing a soft grunt when you ran your thumb across the tip, dragging his pre-cum along a large vein down the base, you assumed it was a good thing. your eyes explored the strange new thing as he took a fist of your hair. you looked up at him and winced at the sudden sting in your scalp.

“suck on it, bunny. use your mouth.” he repeated again, growing impatient. you grew determined to make him feel good too, all thoughts of fighting back leaving your mind. your hand nearly wrapped around his entire girth, but he was too thick for your smaller hands to do so. once again, hesitantly, you kitten-licked the tip a few times as his eyes shut calmly for a moment. your warm mouth wrapped around the tip as he basked in the feeling of the wetness, you released it with an unintentional pop.

“like this?” you asked innocently as he looked down to watch you suck his length, moving down slowly as you attempted to take all of him in your mouth. you could only go halfway before he hit the back of your throat, and when you gagged cutely around him, the grip on your hair tightened and a quiet whimper escaped the back of his throat. you picked up the pace in response and sucked even more furiously as best as you could, repeatedly gagging and hollowing your cheeks. “y-yeah… aauhh, jus’ like that, bunny.”

you continued your sucking and gentle pumping and tongue swirling around him as he continued to yank at your hair and admire your tear stained face and saliva covered mouth and throat. “aah.. yer’ sure you’ve n-never.. mgh, done this before?” he struggled to speak due to his many grunts and moans.

you nodded quietly as you felt him harden and pulsate in your mouth, repeatedly hitting the back of your throat. he suddenly pulled your hair, hard, and you winced loudly. he got down to your level and cleaned your face using his hand and dragged a thumb across your lip, consumed in the way tears pricked at your eyes just for him. “wh-what was that for? ‘m not done.” you muttered, reaching towards his cock when he stopped you with a chuckle and a deranged grin.

“like it that much, hm? we’re not done yet, bunny. don’t worry.” you tilted your head, your eyes then widening. “y-you mean, we’re gonna..” you trailed off as he gently pushed you down by your shoulders onto you back, crawling on top of you and hovering over your body. he cupped your cheek with one large hand and used his knee to spread your thighs apart. he clicked his tongue and trailed kisses from your jaw down your neck to between the valley of your breasts, looking up at you with his emerald green orbs.

“don’t act clueless, bunny. i know you’ve thought about getting touched down here by a real man.” he chuckled, slapping his length against your cunt two times, causing you to jump. “d-deku, please don-” your own words were caught in your throat when he slid the first few centimeters in, causing you to gasp and tug roughly on your handcuffs. “g-get off.. aauh..” you whimpered, attempting to push him off of you, clearly doing nothing. you fought the growing sting in your velvety walls as he slowly inched in.

“its okay, pretty girl. a little bit at a time..” he whispered into your ear, causing your walls to clench around his first few inches, to which he smirked and nibbled on your jaw. “that’s it... good girl.” he praised as he filled you up completely. deku was so overwhelmed with the pleasure of his bunny wrapped around his cock, and the reality that he was your first that he forgot to wait for you to adjust before pulling out and thrusting back in.

“deku!” you cried out in pain as his eyes widened and he immediately wrapped his arms around you, hugging you into his chest. “i’m so sorry,” he rapidly apologized over and over again, claiming he lost control and would wait now. “i-it hurts...” you muttered into his neck before nodding a minute later, signalling he could now move. he slowly pulled out and thrust back in, his tip barely brushing up against your cervix. he moved once more and a swirling pool of pleasure slowly took over any remnants of pain.

“mmph.. faster, deku.” you mewled out his nickname that you’ve had for him since you were little, and his heart picked up the pace before looking into your eyes and drowning in your expression as he slid in and out of you, your walls pulsating tightly around him, your thighs and his balls now soaked in your juices. “fuck... aauh, you’re such a good fucking girl for me, hah.” he said in a cocky tone, now slamming into you relentlessly.

“while we’re here,” he said, his pace growing sloppier by the second. “let’s get one thing crystal clear.” he continued, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look at his flushed face, his cock still pounding into your sloppy cunt, the lewd noises of him fucking you filling the room. “you’re mine, all fucking mine. this fucking pussy,” he said, punctuating his sentence with a light slap against your folds. “this body, that cute little expression in your eyes, and everything else about you belongs to me. not that blue-eyed shit-faced bitch.” he raised his voice causing you to flinch.

“we’re clear with that, aren’t we?” he asked as your eyes rolled into the back of your head due to him continuously hitting that spot with the tip of his member. “hey,” he growled, bringing a throat to your neck and squeezing it tightly, completely cutting off your oxygen. you clawed at his hand as best as you could despite your handcuffs, and your face grew a bright pink and almost purple. he hated slapping you or choking you or tying you up, and he hated himself for getting excited at that fearful look in your glistening eyes. he released his grip on your throat and you gasped desperately for air, glaring at him. “fucking answer me.”

“y-yeah, mhnm...” you moaned out, still recovering from being choked. your pussy clenched around him as you felt your second, much stronger, orgasm nearing. he felt his own nearing as well, your beautiful moans not helping in holding him back. “yeah, what?” he smirked, knowing he was pushing your limits. “y-yeah, we’re ..mhgn, clear!” you yelled in frustration as he got a kick out of it, enjoying the idea of you thinking you could raise your voice at him.

“you know what?” he pulled out rapidly, cumming all over your stomach before lying beside you, leaving you empty and unsatisfied. “wh-what?” you stuttered in shock and irritation, grinding your thighs together for some type of friction as you angrily yanked on your handcuffs. “now...” he kissed the tip of your nose and smiled at you brightly, as if all of this was amusing. “you don’t get to finish!” he exclaimed happily, giggling shortly after as you struggled and tugged at your restraints.

“why?” you questioned the green-haired man, who said nothing. he wrapped a strong arm around your needy body and fought the urge to play with your clit using his fingertips. “why, deku? this isn’t fair!’ you whined as he chuckled dryly and tightened the soft handcuffs. “nothing is fair, my love. i have another shift now, so i’ll be gone for a few hours. need anything?” he asked in a condescending tone, knowing you would motion towards your dripping, aching cunt, which he wouldn’t help you with. he didn’t care to help your needy pussy.

he got up and grabbed the silver key he used to previously lock the basement door, glancing back at your distressed eyes one more time before leaving and slamming the door shut.

“maybe next time you won’t get some silly idea in that pretty little head of yours that you can raise your voice with me.”

#deku #yandere #bnha #my hero academia #yandere izuku #tired sigh #mha smut #deku smut #i hope it makes sense #im so tired #smut #i love him #i love him i love him i love him i love him

312 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

Hi Eve! Just wondering if you could write a coops smut where one of them wears lingerie? You sort of explored the concept in the Valentines Day smut where Sirius wore thigh highs, but i was maybe thinking a fic where one of them wears a full set. Its all completely up to you!

How about both? Happy smutty Monday, folks! Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove

TW for smut, subspace/ subdrop

It was Friday, and Remus was learning the glory of stockings on hockey thighs.

It was Thursday, and he began to wonder how to repay his lovely fiancé.

It was Sunday, two weeks after Valentine’s Day, and between flashes of thunder outside and damn near howls of pleasure into their traumatized pillows, Remus was still thinking about the socks.

It was Tuesday, a bye week, and the last piece of his plan clicked into place as Sirius hefted him further over the countertop by the muscle of his thigh with one hand keeping his chest flush to the cool marble.

It was Wednesday, and Remus smiled to himself as Sirius snuggled closer in the darkness of a quiet night in. He ran an absentminded hand through inky curls, relishing the soft puffs of Sirius’ breath on the hollow of his throat while their legs remained comfortably tangled. You have no idea what’s coming, he thought, letting his lips linger on Sirius’ forehead. No idea at all.

It was Sunday, and Remus had spent two minutes hyping himself up in the bathroom mirror. The rustling from their bedroom had stopped long before. “Alright, you can do this,” he murmured, leaning his hands on the edge of the sink. “You look hot. This isn’t weird. He’s gonna lose his fucking mind.”

“Mon loup?”

Anxiety leaped in Remus’ stomach. “One second!” he called back through the closed door. He stared at himself for a moment longer, then sighed. It was a stupid idea—there was no way Sirius would want to see him in something as silly as this. He looked ridiculous, and it wasn’t even worth it; any clothing would be off in a heartbeat anyway. Sirius always preferred skin-to-skin contact.

The lacy edge of the garter belt itched the peak of his hip as he blew out a slow breath. Did Remus still dream about Sirius’ thigh highs over a month later? Yes. Did that guarantee Sirius would have a similar reaction to seeing him in actual lingerie? Not necessarily.

Remus liked guarantees. They were safe. Soothing. Unquestionable.

“Are you alright?” Sirius’ voice floated through the door on a wave of concern.

Fuck it. The bathroom lights caught the silver buckles. It’s now or never. “You can’t laugh, okay?” he warned, closing a hand around the knob.

“I won’t. I have a surprise for you, too.”

That bit of curiosity gave him that last push of courage he needed to open the door and step out of the safety of the bathroom. His pulse skyrocketed, though whether it was from the sudden feeling of absolute exposure or the sight of Sirius waiting on their bed in some sort of sheer, lacy top, Remus couldn’t tell. Sirius stared at him, lips slightly parted. Remus cleared his throat and spread his hands. “Surprise?”

“Oh.”

“You look—you look great,” he managed lamely. There were a million better words to describe the lavender fabric cascading over the planes of Sirius’ chest, but his brain had been replaced by the blush prickling up his neck and face. Going for the basic black garter belt and underwear suddenly seemed subpar instead of classically sexy.

Sirius shifted on his knees and reached for him. “Viens ici.”

“It—” Remus faltered. His chest and legs were bare, save for the satiny clasps holding the garters in place on his thighs. Sirius was just staring, like he couldn’t believe his eyes. It had been a long time since he felt self-conscious around Sirius; every bit of missed embarrassment flooded back at once as he sat on the foot of the bed. “I liked your socks on Valentine’s Day, and I figured—I dunno. This is the surprise, by the way.”

“C’mere.” Sirius’ eyes finally flickered up to his face without a trace of judgement.

“I’m here.”

“Here,” Sirius repeated, tugging him over to straddle his lap with an arm around Remus’ waist. He kissed him, soft and slow but undeniably wanting, before he leaned back. “You look so handsome, mon coeur.”

“Yeah?”

“Ouais.” And, god, if Remus didn’t love the way his voice curled around that word, turning it into a million perfectly lazy syllables.

He rolled the hem of Sirius’ top between his fingers and hummed against his mouth. “This is new.”

“You like it?”

“Mhmm.” It was hard to tear his eyes away from the shadow of muscle beneath the delicate fabric.

Mischief flickered over Sirius’ face. “It’s called a ‘babydoll’. Thought you might get a kick out of that.”

“Babydoll for my baby,” Remus teased, kissing his nose with a playful tug to the lace edges. Sirius’ gaze slipped back down to his lap—no, his legs—and his fingers toyed with the seam of the accompanying underwear. Remus placed a light kiss to the shell of his ear, watching every twitch of his hands. “What do you want?”

“To look at you.” There was nothing but honesty when Sirius glanced back to him. The intensity of it sent a spark up Remus’ spine; he had grown so used to Sirius’ general aura of focus that he had nearly forgotten what it felt like wholly directed on him.

“And…?”

“And nothing. Just to look.” Nervousness flickered across his fine features as he settled back against the headboard and pulled Remus with him. “Just for a minute, and then we can do whatever you—”

Remus silenced him with a kiss, bracketing his waist with his palms. The babydoll was like water under his touch, but Sirius was as solid as ever. “This is for you,” he said when they separated. “You can look for as long as you like.”

Except Sirius didn’t only want to look—he wanted to touch. That fact was made clear within seconds, when the hands smoothing up and down Remus’ thighs in rhythmic motions began dipping beneath the straps of his garter belt and sliding up to his narrow hips, then hooked around the backs of his bent knees. Sirius pressed one palm flat over his abs and Remus shivered, trailing his lips down his neck. He wasn’t aroused in the lightning-fast please please I need you now kind of way, but more of an I’m about to float into space if you don’t keep touching me like a treasure buzz.

“Re, honey,” Sirius murmured. It was only then that Remus realized most of his breaths were coming in short pants instead of kisses. The nickname was one of his favorites, reserved for the times when he was well and truly gone; it was more tender than mon coeur, and worlds more intimate than his own name or even sweetheart. He nipped the edge of Sirius’ jaw and felt him gasp.

Remus licked his lips as he pulled away just enough to speak. “D’you want me to take it off?”

“Never.”

He smiled. “It has to come off if you want to fuck me.”

“Deux pièces.” The arm around his lower back tightened as one hand came to rest on his ass, which was still fully covered by lace-lined black fabric. Remus had opted for the ‘boyshort’ choice, as it looked to be the most likely to prevent slippage.

That, and it had fewer strappy bits. The buckles were hard enough to figure out—adding an accidental wedgie into the mix seemed like a poor idea.

“Yeah, but the important piece can only come off if I take the fun one off first,” Remus explained, snapping one of the ties. Sirius stared at it for a long moment before blinking slowly.

“Are you sure?”

“Giving me puppy eyes isn’t going to flip this inside out, babes,” Remus laughed. “Two seconds.”

“But you’ll keep the fun part on, right?” Sirius slid down to lay next to him while he wrestled with the garter belt, hissing curses each time the buckles pinched his fingers. It was, quite possibly, the least sexy thing he had ever done. That did not seem to deter his fiancé—if anything, watching Remus struggle with black satin strips in the dark while laying flat on his back appeared to be the highlight of Sirius’ day.

The fog in his head cleared a bit as he worked his underwear down his thighs, being careful not to mess with the garters too much. It had taken him five full minutes to get the damn things on in the first place, and he wasn��t exactly in the mood to waste another five that could be spent in much more pleasurable ways. “The ‘fun part’—” Remus couldn’t spare a hand to do air quotes, but he hoped Sirius got the gist. “—is a lot more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Nope.”

He paused. “You’re not the one losing a fight to a few scraps of fabric.”

Sirius met his eyes, looking every inch the fallen angel with his hair splayed over the pillow and his lavender whatever-the-hell-glory pooling at his mid-chest. “Do you want me to take it off for you?”

“I thought you wanted the fun part to stay on.”

“Here.” Remus barely managed to kick the underwear off his ankles before Sirius shuffled over to lay between his thighs and attach his mouth just beneath the left garter.

“Oh, fuck me,” Remus huffed, letting his head fall back against the pillows.

“Gimme a minute,” Sirius said into his skin while he licked a stripe up to the first buckle and carefully pulled it down to hook into its proper place. Remus arched his back, only to be pushed down a moment later as Sirius electrified patches of skin he didn’t even know he had. Teeth slipped along the curve of his muscle and nibbled just above the back of his knee; Remus clenched his hands in the sheets with a shuddering inhale and tried his best to keep his wits about him.

By the time Sirius moved on to his other thigh, he was a goner. He could practically feel his pulse through his dick and the fog had returned with a vengeance, blurring the world at the edges while he let go of the tension in his back. How could he possibly be stressed when Sirius was saying such pretty things? The warmth of lips on his thighs disappeared and he stretched his arms above his head, relishing in his own contentment and Sirius’ light laugh. “You’re lovely,” he mumbled. Really, it was the only appropriate word for the occasion.

There was a rustling sound next to him, but Remus didn’t bother paying attention to what it was—Sirius’ weight all around him was more than enough to occupy—

“Oh.” His eyes flashed open as a lube-slick finger pushed into him to the first knuckle. “Oh.”

“Were you listening?” Sirius sounded faintly amused. Remus smiled lazily; he must have missed a joke (or a warning) somewhere in the tumble of words from that lovely pout. He rocked his hips onto Sirius’ finger, stretching one leg out as the other remained bent and tilted away. It was only kept in place by Sirius’ free hand, but even the idea of being held sent a tingling feeling all the way to his toes.

“How many?” Remus asked, looping his arms under Sirius’ to pull him closer. He needed warmth, and the smooth familiarity of Sirius’s chest against his own. He needed the encompassing feeling of being covered, which had yet to fade, no matter how much more muscle he gained.

Sirius smiled into the side of his neck. “Two.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm. Are you still with me?”

“Sure.” The world zoomed back into 3D focus when Sirius’ fingers brushed his sweet spot and Remus gripped his shoulder blades with a hitch of breath—his free leg jerked inward at the sudden shift. “There. There, now.”

“I have other plans, sweetheart.”

“Now,” Remus insisted. He would give Sirius anything he wanted if it meant he could feel that thrill again. Their bedroom was dim, but the lights popping at the corners of his vision as Sirius closed a hand around his shaft and continued sliding two fingers into him were so very bright. Remus moved his hands down from Sirius’ shoulders to his hips, then lower to give him a hint. “Now?”

“I was going to do three—”

“Now,” Remus said, brooking no room for argument. He pushed Sirius’ chest until he rolled onto his back—bless the man for his quick thinking skills, because Remus’ new muscle still wasn’t enough to manhandle him properly—and settled himself into his previous position on Sirius’ lap.

A dark eyebrow arched, though his dilated pupils gave away Sirius’ true feelings. “Like this?”

“You said you wanted to look, didn’t you?” Thinking back, Remus couldn’t imagine how he could ever have been worried about this. He took a few deep breaths as he sank down, biting hard on his lip against the dizzy want prodding the edges of his mind. This needed to last. Sirius’ mouth was cherry red and wet when he glanced down, fully seated and feeling rather confident about the whole thing. “Then look.”

The first rock of his hips brought a whimper from plush lips and Remus grinned; he took Sirius’ hands and planted them on his thighs before bracing his own against the broad planes of his chest. Silky fabric parted under his palms and his smile widened into giddiness as he slid his hands beneath it to rest on warm skin. Sirius pushed the side of his face into the pillow with a huff of breath.

“No,” Remus panted as he continued to move, pulling Sirius’ chin back up. His hands were shaking when he cupped his face. “Look. L—look at me.”

Sirius’ brows pitched and his silver gaze flickered down to the garter belt; Remus let his head fall back as long fingers toyed with the straps, sometimes tugging gently, sometimes snapping fireworks through his legs. The power shift between them ebbed and flowed like the tide. He wanted a tsunami.

He worked the words around in his mouth for a moment, unsure of how to ask for what he wanted. One of Sirius’ hands traveled to his back and began moving in steady presses up and down his spine. “Fuck me,” Remus pleaded.

A synchronized roll of their hips made them both moan. “I am,” Sirius said breathlessly.

Remus licked his lips and made a valiant effort to get air back into his lungs. “Please.”

His expression must have made the message clear enough, because understanding rippled across the puzzlement on Sirius’ face in mere moments; with a firm squeeze, Remus’ hips stopped cold. Mistake, his brain thought immediately as Sirius’ dick rested directly on his prostate. Mistake, mistake, keep moving or you’re gonna—

“Remus.”

The whine that tore from his mouth would have been embarrassing if he had any self-conscious braincells left to spare. He bit his lip again, teetering on a knife’s edge while his thighs shook and his knees slid on the sheets.

“Deep breaths.”

One.

“One more for me.”

Two. He was wheezing slightly with the effort of keeping down his moans.

“Try again.”

A frustrated grumble built in his chest, but he obliged. Three. The air was warm and smelled like Sirius; it was intoxicating. His next breath was even deeper, and he let it fill him.

“Good job.”

Something in Remus perked its ears up and he managed a lopsided smile, blinking his eyes open to look down at Sirius. His face was still soft, but his eyes had a tarnished edge to them that sent a shiver down Remus’ spine and nearly undid all his hard work.

“Color?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Green.”

“Are you slipping?”

Slipping, slipped, gone for good, he thought. “Mhmm.”

Sirius laid him back down, catching himself from sliding out at the last second. Remus arched his back at the slow press in. “How do you want it?”

“I already told you twice,” he said, planting a kiss to Sirius’ upper lip. The warm touch around his thighs had not faltered yet. “Come on, Captain, you know what I want.”

Sirius positioned his legs to wrap around his waist and kissed him fully, stealing the breath from Remus’ body in one fell swoop as he began to move his hips again; the pace increased so steadily that Remus nearly lost himself in it. The lace of the garter belt no longer itched, but slid in a blissful rhythm instead. The bits of cold where the small buckles rubbed against his skin were a mind-melting contrast to the cocoon of warmth he sank into.

“M—” Remus didn’t even get the word out before Sirius gave him a hard thrust and pressed their tangled fingers further into the mattress. He muffled a shout into the dip of his shoulder and sucked a mark there between moans. “Oh, fuck, Sirius.”

His head was spinning with the mixture of sensations—he had been so focused on being full that he almost forgot about the hand still moving terribly slow along his shaft. One leg kicked out on its own accord and he twitched, one hip canting upward until Sirius held it back down without breaking stride. Remus’ breaths were little more than staccato moans; he knew bringing out Sirius’ dominant side was an easy switch to flip, but he hadn’t been expecting the change to be quite so sudden. Not that he was complaining, of course.

Sirius let go of his hand to drag his leg back up, fingertips digging in just below the garter as the new angle drew a desperate ‘holy shit’ from Remus and a squeak of protest from their bedsprings. He had forgotten how long it had been since Sirius truly railed his lights out—the tingling sensation racing through his thighs and up to his chest was a welcome companion.

And he began to laugh.

Breathless and practically hiccups, but a laugh all the same. He could see Sirius’ confusion in his mind’s eye despite the fact that he had given up on trying to keep his eyes open several thrusts prior. The movement slowed. “What?” Sirius asked. “What’s so funny?”

“I fucking love you,” Remus said between gasps.

“Why are you laughing?”

“I don’t know.” Something warm slid down his cheek. “It’s so good and I can’t—I don’t know. Keep moving, please, please.”

Sirius’ thumb swiped across his cheekbone and he picked up the pace again; Remus’ shocked laughter faded back into panting and babbling within a few seconds, but the pure elation didn’t slip until he felt his orgasm approaching and resorted to leaving a trail of sloppy kisses along the line of Sirius’ collarbone and neck. Sirius liked his mouth, liked feeling it on him, and Remus could tell that he was getting close by the heat building under his palms where he struggled to find a handhold.

“I l—I lo—I love you,” he managed, adding a love bite to his collection around a groan. They were both sweaty messes, but the salt on his lips was exactly what he wanted.

“I love you, too.” Sirius’ voice was just as labored as his own, buzzing against every pleasure center Remus had.

“I lo—” He broke off with a strangled shout as Sirius squeezed the sensitive part of his thigh at the same time as a thrust. There was nowhere for his mouth to go. He bit down hard on instinct.

Sirius hissed in pain and Remus immediately pulled away, feeling frantic and worried and awful. “Ow.”

“ ‘m sorry,” he said, still a little wild as he covered Sirius’ cheek in apologetic kisses and searched for a hand to hold. “ ‘m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I promise.”

“It’s okay,” Sirius assured him, soothing his hands as they skimmed across his body. “Just surprised me.”

“Didn’t mean to hurt you.” Horror tried to push in around the tangle of joy-want-need-more, but there simply wasn’t room. Remus settled for running his trembling fingers through Sirius’ hair and kissing him gently. He hoped it would be enough.

“You didn’t hurt me,” Sirius said against his lips, rubbing circles with his thumb in the crease of Remus’ hip and thigh. The whirlwind in his head calmed to tv static—the world tunneled to them and their bed. Remus buried his face in Sirius’ neck and slid deep under.

He registered the pressure of Sirius’ hands and the feeling of his own throat pouring out nonsense; he felt his muscles clench and the slide of satin on sweaty skin before balling his fists so tight in Sirius’ babydoll top that it nearly tore. He heard his own breaths become shallow, knew it was Sirius’ hand running along the crown of his dick, and finally, finally shuddered apart with a hitching whine.

“Re, honey.”

Remus sighed through his nose and held him close. He was beyond comfortable, if not a little sticky. Again, his body suggested.

No, his brain answered immediately.

Yes.

No.

Yes.

No.

“I can’t,” Remus slurred.

Lips pressed against the corner of his mouth. “What can’t you do?”

“Go again.”

He felt laughter from the weight above him—Sirius, his brain supplied with a happy fizz down his back—and let his legs be pulled back down to the mattress. “Yeah, not a chance.”

The warmth inside him slipped away and he winced. “Put it back.”

“Nope.”

“Why?”

“Cause we’re definitely done.” The laughter returned, bright as a summer day, and he rubbed his face in the hollow of angular collarbones where the vibration was strongest. “How are you feeling?”

“Noodle.”

“Okay, sweetheart.”

Remus closed his eyes and stifled a yawn; the world could wait until he was done with his nap.

“Hey.” Someone tapped his hip and he frowned. “No falling asleep yet.”

“I’m tired.”

“I know, but we need water and a shower.”

Remus squirmed around until he could fix Sirius with a look. “Can’t stand up.”

“You hate sleeping while you’re sweaty.”

Fair point. Remus became suddenly and harshly aware of how sticky he was and pulled a face, flexing his fingers on Sirius’ back. The high was softening; he felt more settled in himself already. He nudged Sirius until he laid down, then curled into his ribs with an arm and a leg slung over his body. The aftershocks raced in pops of lightning down his legs. “Teddy bear.”

“Hmm?”

“Teddy bear,” he repeated. “ ’s all you are, at the end of the day. I love it. I love you.”

Sirius pulled him closer and kissed his temple. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.” He stretched all four limbs and felt his elbow pop, then relaxed. “Much better. Alright, I need to get this thing off.”

If trying to put the garter belt on had been difficult, it was nothing compared to forcing his unsteady and sweat-slick fingers to get it off. “Do you need some help?” Sirius asked, amused.

“No.”

He struggled for a moment longer, spoiling the sweetness of the drop with frustration, before Sirius’ hands replaced his own and carefully untied each strap so he could get it off properly. “There you go.”

Remus kicked it to the floor and glared balefully at it. “I love you, but I’m never wearing that again.”

“Never?”

“Maybe one more time,” he conceded. The confidence boost had been dizzying. “As long as you keep this.”

Sirius looked down at where Remus’ fingers were tugging with the hem of his slip. “I really like it, too.”

“The color’s nice.”

“C’mere.” Sirius wrapped his other arm around Remus’ shoulders and drew him in for a snuggle, rubbing his back with one hand. “Let me know when I can get us some water, okay?”

“You can go, if you need to.”

“Really?”

He hesitated, then moved his head to rest above Sirius’ heartbeat. “No.”

“D’accord.” Sirius kissed his forehead again.

Remus lasted three minutes before he couldn’t stand the tacky feeling of the lube any longer, but those three minutes were the coziest he could remember. Sirius was warm and traced patterns over his bare skin; his soft lips decorated Remus’ face, simultaneously lulling him and keeping him from falling asleep. With a sigh, he detached his arms. “Okay.”

“I’ll be right back,” Sirius promised. The room was darker without him—the bed stayed warm. Remus scooted over into the indent he left and basked in the memory, cataloguing his aches. Abs? Sore. Arms? Still good. Thighs? A bit chafed from lace, but alright. Neck? Scattered with love bites he couldn’t recall receiving, though that was a fairly common occurrence.

“That was quick,” he mumbled when the other side of the mattress dipped.

Sirius shrugged. The babydoll shift was tragically absent. “The usual two minutes, actually.”

“Must have zoned out,” he hummed, leaning into the cool washcloth on his face. A few tears always slipped out when they dipped into rougher territory, though he never felt sad. It was just…overwhelming, in the best way.

Sirius cleaned his thighs with the same careful touch as his face before handing him a cup of water. “Are you hungry?”

“Nope.” Remus downed the glass in two gulps and opened his arms. “Bedtime.”

“No pajamas?” Sirius asked with a laugh, though he obliged and let Remus laminate himself to his side.

“Unnecessary.”

“No shower?”

His instinctive response was god no, cuddles take precedence and I’m dead on my feet, but a shower did sound nice. Sirius washing his hair, scrubbing the last bits of shakiness and his drop away, going to bed clean…

“Alright,” he agreed grudgingly. “We’re probably going to need to change the sheets, too.”

“That can wait until we’re done.” And before he could even attempt to stand on his own, Sirius gathered him into his arms and hoisted him off the bed. If he wasn’t afraid he’d fall flat on his face without help, Remus would have protested. “Mon dieu, I forgot how muscly you are now.”

“Says the man who can’t stop ogling me whenever I take my shirt off,” Remus teased, then frowned when he saw the purpling bruise on Sirius’ neck. “Holy shit, my dentist could identify me with that thing. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Sirius paused in the bathroom doorway and kissed him hard, stirring the last dregs of arousal in Remus’ gut. “You have blanket permission to do that whenever you like.”

Remus gaped at him, speechless. “Well, that’s not fair,” he managed. “I’m tired.”

“Not a bad way to spend a Sunday night,” Sirius mused. His sneaky squeeze of Remus’ ass did not go unnoticed. “In my personal opinion, of course.”

“Of course,” Remus said drily. Maybe a shower wasn’t the worst idea after all. His knees weren’t nearly sore enough yet.

#remus lupin #sirius black #coops #smut #my fic #fanfic #sweater weather #vaincre #lumosinlove #lingerie #subspace #subdrop

197 notes · View notes

digimonloving · 2 years

Note

Out of curiosity, would you do a nsfw alphabet for Beelzemon from xros wars? I'm aware that you don't repeat Digimon for nsfw alphabets, but since he's alot different from the traditional Beelzemon. If not it's cool :D

Beelzebumon (Xros Wars) NSFT Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

My, did someone call for the softest Beel ever? Because he becomes so gentle and cuddly, as if he's not that way already. He can't help but wrap his arms (or one and half of the other) around his partner as he pulls them close to just... bask in the afterglow. He kisses along their face and neck and praises them and thanks them for such a nice time, every single time.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Beelzebumon enjoys his partner's ass. Admittedly, he's a bit of an ass man, as much as he loves a good chest... He'd never vocally say so, he does enjoy it greatly.

His wings, they're powerful and incredibly soft, so he can wrap his partner in a blanket of just him and they'd be nice, warm, and could pet his wings as much as they'd want to.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Much like the other, Beelzebumon cums quite a lot, and god... he loves to watch it leak from his partner's holes. It makes him want to go all over again, even if they've just finished a long session.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Beelzebumon has... a piece of their clothing he took from them, one that was older, but smelled of their scent. Often cleans up his... "messes" with it should he ever get the thought to masturbate to a dirty thought he couldn't get out of his mind.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Beelzebumon is pretty shy.... he doesn't have much experience at all, and lets his partner take the lead for the first few times before he gets the hang of it.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Reverse cowgirl for when his partner is taking lead, doggy or cuddling sex for when he's in charge

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Beelzebumon is... awkward, he tries to avoid being goofy at all as he just makes himself look like a fool if he tries... His partner reassures him some when he tries but fails at it.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Very nicely groomed, a patch of blond hair resting above his cock that's jsut as fluffy as his hair

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Beelzebumon is a SUCKER for intimacy. It's why he loves to hold them so close when he's having sex, just... enjoying one another, how soft he feels for them... he loves it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

surprisingly not too big on it. Not sure if he either doesn't have time to do so, or the thought just doesn't cross his mind to do it... But when he does do it, he makes sure he's alone and will be for a bit before he even attempts to touch his straining cock. There's just some thoughts that won't go away and he can't stand the feeling of his cock pressed against his armor.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise, marking/scenting, cum stuffing

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Beelzebumon much prefers the privacy of a bedroom... though there are times he really wants to try and fuck his partner while they fly in the air... but mostly just. The bedroom.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

His partner being direct with him with what they want. He's a bit on the shy side, but them bringing out their low voice and telling him exactly what they want him to do to them, or what they want to do to him, makes him blush like hell but also... really gets him going. Literally just whispering what they want from him gets him riled up.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Watersports, daddy kink

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Beelzebumon is.. He enjoys giving oral, but he needs a bit of instruction from his partner, usually letting them ride his face and use him as they want to get off. When he gets oral from them, he whines and whimpers, begging for more from them. He doesn't have a preference for who gets it first, and he always tries his best to reciprocate. He gets better at it and soon enough gets a little too good at making his partner whimper as much as he does once he gains the confidence...

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Beelzebumon prefers it slow and sensual, at least when he's fucking his partner. When his partner takes the lead, he really doesn't care how they prefer it -- fast, rough, slow, whatever. He'll take anything they give to him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Beelzebumon is... he has mixed feelings over it. He both really doesn't mind them, but only past a certain point when he's gotten used to what he and his partner both enjoy from one another.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Beelzebumon wouldn't mind if his partner wanted to experiment ith something... new. He always tries it first before he voices his thoughts on if he likes it or not...

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

When it comes to him, it can depend. When his partner is taking the lead, he can cum quite quick just from how they make him feel, but he can keep pumping and going despite it, leading to more rounds as he fucks into them despite the cum dripping down for it drives him crazy and makes him keep going. When he's in lead, he tries to keep it a bit more clean, not cumming until he feels his partner has first.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Not too big a fan of toys -- at least not when he's taking lead. If his partner wants to bring toys in, he'll let them, so long as it's not something too extreme or so... But he at least tries once.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Not a fan of teasing, really wouldn't know where to start with it...

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

His volume is always different depending on the situation. Blowjob? Whiny and loud as he begs his partner for more. His partner riding him? Also a bit loud as he praises them and moans out loud for them to hear. When he's the one in control? So soft... so quiet as he just grunts and growls as he holds them close to him as he ruts into them

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

It's a bit funny how quickly he can go from quiet and shy to confident anddominant should the mood strike just right. But he still gets a bit awkward and shy around his partner when they just walk around naked. Even if he knows he can look at them, he tends to avoid it even if they've been together for some time...

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Very akin to any other Beelzemon - long, thick, has ridges along the topside of his cock, with "barbs" lining the rest.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not all that high, really. It only ramps up to high when his partner wants him, cause otherwise he's not doing too much.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Still has enough energy to stay awake to watch his partner fall asleep. He always wraps his wings around them to get them more comfortable as well before falling asleep himself.

#Spicy Headcanons #Beelzebumon x S/O #Beelzebumon x Reader #(I mean if they different enough I don't mind doing such!#fhsdhfsfd

24 notes · View notes

callabang · 2 years

Text

Fic Rec: 2021 (Flyers) Favs

this year I read eight million words of hockey fic (not a joke); here are some of my favorites

before we start — if, this year, you have written, commented, kudos’d, bookmarked, beta’d, fic-chatted, brainstormed, outlined, edited, sketched, compiled, created, or said something kind: you are a part of this community and we are better off for having you here! fandom is about sharing the things you love with your friends, and i’m happy we got to spend a little bit of this weird fucked-up year doing just that

as for this little slice of fannish activity: these are a few of my favorite flyers fics posted in 2021, representing a tiny sliver of all the incredible fics i read and loved. if you have favorites of your own, i’d love to hear about them :)

and now, without further ado, in roughly chronological order:

unchained melody | Stromesquad | tk/nolan

Every day of Nolan’s life is the same. She married her high school sweetheart when she was twenty-one years old after he graduated college. Her only variation is which rooms she cleans, vacuuming and dusting the living room and bedrooms on Mondays and Wednesdays and cleaning the bathroom and kitchen on Tuesdays and Thursdays. She goes to church on Sundays, where she sits quietly in her pew and prays for even just a little excitement.

notes: this is such a lovely and atmospheric period piece. it captures the monotony of nolan’s life and the thrill of tk’s introduction into it so exquisitely. a gorgeous and sweeping f/f historical romance!

gonna put a spell on you | whitchbhitch | tk/nolan

Travis thinks that people would be surprised at just how many curses get hurled at hockey players.

notes: in a fic featuring inventive magic and a not-insignificant amount of very hot kinky sex, i love this one for the caretaking and emotion that’s so evident throughout the whole story

i think i’ve seen this film before | okaynowkiss | tk/nolan

It’s fine if they’re going to do whatever it is they’re doing. Or, it’s a bad idea, but Patty can’t stop himself. It’s just that somehow he doesn’t want to make it, like, part of their friendship. Being friends with TK is actually pretty cool and important to him. It’s not about hockey and it’s not about sex, it’s its own thing, and if it got messed up he would fucking hate that.

notes: pining and tension and subtle miscommunication, nevertheless suffused with so much warmth and emotion that this will be a comfort-read forever

occupying space | toxica939 | tk/nolan

There’s orange juice in his stupid goatee. He’d get Nolan’s face wet if he kissed him right now, probably feel cold and scratchy against Nolan’s chin, smell like sour sweat if he got his arms up around Nolan’s shoulders, a little bleachy still, probably, from the load Nolan pumped into the terrible little patch of chest hair between his nipples last night. He’s disgusting.

Nolan loves him.

The thought’s like a bruise. Something better left to poke at later, press down on, see if it hurts.

notes: this fic is sweet and intimate, but my favorite element is some really compelling nolan characterization and the way that it shapes his interactions with tk

give no fucks when i'm with you | jamiemoriartys | scott/raff

“Old man,” Scott grins. “Should’ve stayed in Austria.”

“But Scotty,” Raff pouts, “then who would’ve kept you straight?”

“That’s not the idiom,” Scott says, thinks Raff meant keeping him honest. But it doesn’t matter, because Scott’s neither honest nor straight, and Raff’s really not helping with either, at all. As an afterthought, he adds, “And you’re not doing that, anyway.”

notes: this one is SUCH a sweet and fun take on fond negging and romance and the nobody-knows-they’re-dating trope, it definitely informs my own little mental map of what this pairing looks like

the birds keep time with the pines up yonder | notthequiettype | tk/nolan

Letters exchanged.

notes: this is a teeny tiny little historical epistolary fic that packs a huge and masterful wallop, both in terms of immersion in the setting and immersion in their relationship

cult classic | vinemaple | jake/joel

The circles under Joel’s eyes aren’t provided by the special effects department, he just literally hasn’t slept in twenty hours.

notes: this fic manages to pack so much incredible characterization into a relatively short but wildly compelling au; every line contains a new and perfect detail, and it builds to a punchy and precarious end

a change in net assets | revanchists | carter/joel

A lot of questions are jockeying at the front of his brain, like why am I here, and why are you here, and why are we both twenty pounds lighter than we should be, and whose place is this, and did we both sleep in that bed last night, and what the actual hell is happening.

Or, Joel wakes up in a parallel universe, where he graduated college, doesn't play hockey, co-owns a dog, and, oh yeah: he's dating Carter Hart.

notes: this fic has a great blend of domesticity and surreality that i adore, with tons of sharp and funny lines and a determined ending. i love a joel who jumps in headfirst

always something there to remind me | smudgedfreckles | scott/raff

Scott goes to put the rock on his dresser and wonders if it’s weird that he’s accumulated a little pile of—trinkets, really, that Raff’s given him, like some weird magpie. Hat, zoo tickets, arcade cat, museum token, chopstick wrapper.

And this rock.

Raff keeps giving them to him, though, so in that case they’re both weird and Scott still doesn’t know what it all means

notes: this is a vignette-style fic that gives us a beautiful, romantic look into scott and raff’s relationship while also luxuriating in the place-specific details of philadelphia! intimate and domestic in a really lovely way

tangled webs we weave | Mellow_Yellow | carter/joel

“Take it easy, Carter,” Joel said, nodding at Carter’s name on his facility badge.

Carter found himself watching until Joel left through the opposite exit, his sloping gate carrying him out and into the hallway.

Bemused, Carter turned back to his work.

“That guy was weird,” he said to his whip spider.

notes: this author has such a gift for writing interiority, and i love the wry, head-on descriptions of carter’s feelings and actions. carter reads as neurodivergent in a way that i find super compelling, and joel in this is a funky little sweetheart whom i adore

keep the car running | Springsteen | tk/nolan

When an injury suddenly ends TK's season and then his career, Nolan isn't really surprised that they drift apart. What does surprise him is TK showing up on Nolan's doorstep one morning, months later, with an old car and his familiar crooked smile. From there, it's incredibly easy to pick their friendship right back up from where they left off. The thing is, Nolan might be looking for something more than friendship with TK.

notes: i really loved this hopeful portrayal of a career-ending injury, which proceeds with such sweet gentleness. the story builds so beautifully and naturally and also contains some moments that are just pure delight and humor

stuck with me now | gareth | carter/nick

he thing is: while Carter wasn’t intending to break the Guild’s code, intent doesn’t matter with that kind of a betrayal. It’s the kind of thing you can’t undo. He’s always had to sleep with one eye open—to be a Mandalorian is to be the hunter and prey—and it’s like that. Just in greater magnitudes. The future was always going to be this way: surviving, until he isn’t.

Or: Carter's a Mandalorian hunter. Nick's an ex-Republic shock trooper turned mercenary. They're both after the same bounty. Unstoppable force 4 immovable object.

notes: i knew nothing about the mandalorian going into this, but this fic swept me up regardless. the author achieves a perfect blend of worldbuilding and fast-paced action, while also infusing the whole thing with rising and inescapable emotion that comes to an incredibly fulfilling climax

til the gravity's too much | pinknovembers | tk/nolan

Nolan has a sleepwalking problem that's not so much a sleepwalking problem as it is a psychic problem. TK's nosy about it, but he thinks he's allowed to be since it's his house that Nolan keeps showing up at.

notes: this fic strikes such a great balance between mystery/suspense and emotion. the dimensionality and complexity of the characters is really moving, and it’s so rewarding to see nolan’s growth over the course of the narrative

þæt wæs god hláford | chevalric | joel/tk, tk/nolan

It's pretty hard to do your best when no one really seems to want you to. Even for Joel "Best Tryer" Farabee.

notes: i always really love fics about kneeling and mentorship and power dynamics, and this one is a particularly heart-rending story about learning to ask for help and learning to be okay! i love joel’s meandering internal monologue and the way warmth and care suffuses this story

tie a knot in your lifeline, wrap it around mine | thesedangers | carter/ivan

A gravedigger and a prince find their way home.

notes: this is such a gripping and exciting fantasy fic, with really inventive worldbuilding and some of my favorite found family elements. a fully-realized and perfectly-executed genre fic with a real hero’s journey at its center

at rising tide | hackysack | tk/nolan

The loss of the sailboat may be forgiven, but Nolan will be suffering the indignity of falling into the Mediterranean Sea for many years to come.

notes: this is a gorgeous impressionist painting of a period fic, with dreamy descriptions and a depth of tenderness and humor that feels like sinking into the warm sea.

Dead reckoning | murkya | tk/nolan

Patty came over after lunch, one eye hecticly red and his jaw occasionally grinding about as if something was wound too tight inside and he was stuck on trying to work it free.

notes: this is a real and resonant fic where you can feel how well the characters know each other even as they navigate something new and unfamiliar. the narration of tk’s inner machinery is articulated with such perceptiveness and precision, and it makes the moments of humor shine even brighter

#fic rec #hockey rpf #2021 #year end favorites

97 notes · View notes

samstree · 3 years

Note

For the reverse trope ask: the soft character comforting the tough character after a trauma

Piece Him Back Together

Part of the reverse trope series.

When Geralt gets kidnapped, it's up to Jaskier to rescue him. Some truths about a witcher's worst weakness come to light.

(geraskier, 2.1k, hurt/comfort, geralt whump, mutual pining, competent jaskier, love confession, mild blood)

read on AO3

"Shit, shit, shit..."

Jaskier lets out a string of curses all the while balancing the weight of two fully grown men with stumbling footwork. He desperately tries to keep Geralt up with a hand on the small of his back but fails to stop the injured witcher from drooping with each step, until, at last, both of them wind up in a heap of limbs by the road.

Geralt lets out a pained grunt and Jaskier scrambles with apologies.

“Fuck, sorry.” The bard shifts Geralt’s bulk with all he can muster and finally settles him on a patch of soft moss under the tree. The witcher hisses as his back hits the bark rather heavily. “Shit, I’m so sorr—”

“You already said,” Geralt interrupts him but there’s no anger in his tone.

“Still. I am.”

Jaskier retrieves a handkerchief from his pocket and begins to dab at the mess of blood at Geralt’s temple, wincing when he finally sees how bad the blow is. Blood oozes from the gash, slower than a moment before. The fabric is soaked through and the skin there is still tender.

It’s all witchers’ weakness.

The temple. A blow to the head.

It messes up all their senses and coordination, leaving them in the most vulnerable state. If Jaskier had reached him any later, this might have done Geralt in.

Jaskier lets out a distressed sound at the thought.

“Stop fussing. We need to go.” The witcher, against all odds, remains level-headed.

“No, it’s all right. I knocked out all the guards and servants, along with the duke and his mage.” Jaskier tilts Geralt’s head for a better angle to press the handkerchief down on the wound. “I may have given the two of them a little more than the recommended dose. The lady at the apothecary warned me about the risk of choking with much sleeping potion, urgh, like I give an ounce of fuck if they die a gruesome death or not. It’d be a favor to the town.”

The venom surprises even Jaskier himself, and Geralt lets out a meaningful hum.

“Rest assured, my dear. No one will be looking for us today.”

Up close, Jaskier can feel Geralt scrutinize him intently as if to burn a hole into his face. He meets the amber gaze, the dark pupils still a little blown wide from the shock, but there’s also something akin to relief flowing in those beautiful eyes.

He revels in the silence, observing Geralt in return for further signs of hurt, but finds none.

The witcher relents first, the tiniest smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “So you drugged an entire castle?”

“Didn’t think I had it in me, huh?” Jaskier teases. “The White Wolf, saved by a humble bard and forever impressed by his wit.”

“Hmm.”

“Well, don’t beat yourself up, oh mighty witcher. I’m sure you only needed the rescue because those villains took advantage of your only weakness.” The bard adds his usual dramatic flair into the last two words.

Geralt blinks. Something shifts in his expression, his breathing picking up and his eyes darting everywhere. If the bard didn’t know better, he’d say the witcher is flustered, which makes it all the more confusing.

“Mocking me, are you?” Geralt drops his gaze and tries to shy away, but the bard holds him in place with the other hand. Under Jaskier’s palm, the frame of the witcher’s ear is heating up.

“How am I mocking you? Geralt, even you must admit witchers aren’t all-powerful beings.” Jaskier frowns. “They messed up your head. I know all your senses get muddled when you’re like this. Seriously, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“What are you talking about?” the witcher snaps his gaze back to Jaskier, a puzzled crease deep between his brows, which only makes the bard scoff with amusement.

“The head wound, of course. How did they get you? An ambush and a blow to the head, I’m assuming.” Jaskier explains. “How else did you get yourself into a dungeon and dimeritium cuffs? What, are you telling me you walk into their trap voluntarily?”

He rolls his eyes at the offhanded joke but the silence from the witcher leaves the mood heavier. Somehow, it doesn’t feel like a denial of what he just said. Geralt is staring at him with an inexplicable look on his face, and these looks are hard to come by these days. Jaskier prides himself in being the best on the continent at reading his witcher, and he has no inclination to break the streak.

“What happened then? Talk to me, Geralt.”

Jaskier removes the handkerchief a little. The gash has stopped bleeding, so he ties it around Geralt’s head carefully to keep the wound shielded, at least until they can wash it properly. His hands stay with Geralt afterwards, waiting for him to open up.

“I—” Geralt purses his lips before continuing, golden eyes meeting the bard in earnest. “They didn’t ambush me, Jask. I walked into that castle unarmed by choice.”

“What?” Jaskier’s jaw drops.

“It’s because—” the witcher scowls. “Because I thought…that they had you.”

It’s like a lightning strike, where their skin connects tingling all the way from the tips of Jaskier’s fingers to a warm pool of fuzziness in his stomach. The air is suddenly too hot so Jaskier decides to put more space between them.

“Oh.”

Geralt chases him ever so slightly before settling back with resignation, his eyes still bare and vulnerable, as if he just revealed the darkest secret when it is only the sweetest thing in a horrible, horrible way.

“A whisper of you being held hostage and suddenly I couldn’t think. Couldn’t remember to check the truth. Couldn’t waste another second.” Geralt hovers a hand near the bard’s face before retreating to his side. “You were right that they got me because of my one weakness, Jaskier. Just not the one you assumed.”

The pounding in Jaskier’s chest is jumping out of his throat. He’s sure he will die within the next minute if he doesn’t speak to ease this ache in his heart.

“Oh.”

He ends up saying dumbly.

“It was too late when I noticed the absence of you. Your voice, your heartbeat, your scent. Nothing. You weren’t in that castle or the cells. All I could hear was silence and all I could smell was blood.” Geralt draws a shuddering breath. “I hoped, when they kept me in the dark, that they were lying about ever having you. That you were nowhere near that damn place instead of—”

The witcher swallows, unable to finish the sentence.

“Instead of,” Jaskier adds for him, “they’d already killed me.”

The tension hangs between them. The bard sits back on the heels of his feet and finds himself at a loss for words for the very first time in his life.

Geralt might be the only person who can force Jaskier through so many firsts in his life. His first time writing a hit song, first time smashing into someone’s face with a lute, first time saving a witcher’s life, and perhaps, first time murdering two evil overlords obsessed with collecting witchers for experiments.

Hmm, it’s not like Jaskier regrets any of these.

Geralt reaches out again, tentative and patient like he’s approaching a spooked horse. This time, Jaskier takes pity and meets him halfway, his thumb rubbing small circles at the sword callouses that he adores so much.

“Say something,” Geralt pleads.

Jaskier swallows a lump in his throat and sniffles to ease the congestion in his nose, his vision blurring in desperation.

“It’s the most words you’ve said in one sitting, Geralt. You’ll have to allow me a moment to figure out what you are saying and, most importantly, not saying.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “It’s you, you know? There’s always something you are holding back and that is often the crux of it. I thought I got good at reading between the lines, but this is…overwhelming.”

With the enhanced healing kicking in, Geralt is looking much better by the minute. The blood dries and crusts over and his eyes almost shining in the daylight, or is it just the emotions within them? Jaskier can’t tell.

“Maybe I can help you. With the hidden words.” Geralt squeezes Jaskier’s fingers reassuringly. He tilts his head in the most endearing way. It happens to be that particular head tilt that Jaskier treasures with his life, the one that manages to always take his breath away.

“I love you, Jask.”

The warm pool of fuzziness in Jaskier’s stomach turns into a bottomless pit, and he’s falling.

And soaring.

“I love you.” Geralt smiles sadly. “In the dark of that cell, it became…ever so clear and so loud that I couldn’t deny it anymore. I love you, in spite of myself. Gods, I’ve loved you for so long.”

Geralt picks up Jaskier’s hand and places the barest touch of a kiss there, his lips chapped but oh so gentle. Jaskier lets out a soft gasp and the tears roll down uncontrollably. The next thing he knows, he’s buried deep in Geralt’s embrace. The sobs choke in his lungs like a dam has been broken.

“I—” Jaskier is amazed to find that their roles have reversed. The witcher has expressed everything but the bard becomes mute. So he takes up Geralt’s role gladly and replies with actions.

Jaskier’s lips are pressed everywhere he can reach: the soft, warm skin of Geralt’s neck, the sharp of his jaw, his cheek, the tip of his nose. He disregards the grime and dirt and kisses Geralt’s uninjured temple, the single most fragile part of a witcher’s body—barring their heart, so it seems. He tucks away a strand of white hair and kisses Geralt’s temple one more time, tasting the salty tang of tears.

When he pulls back, Geralt’s smile is blinding.

He hears Jaskier, even though—

“I still don’t know what to say,” Jaskier croaks, sniffling hard.

The bard rests his hands at the nape of Geralt’s neck and loses himself in the sunlit golden honey, his favorite color in the world and the most beautiful dream that’s ever come true.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Geralt wipes away the wetness on Jaskier’s face with the pad of his thumb. “Master Jaskier, poet, minstrel, professor… Stumped for words and forever impressed by a witcher’s love confession.”

He mimics Jaskier’s phrasing and the bard can’t help but chuckle despite the tears and snout, his hand swatting at Geralt’s shoulder. Jaskier knows he must look so absurd, laughing and crying all at once, but it’s the last thing in the world that matters.

Geralt loves him, and—

“You got hurt because of me.”

The remorse licks up, along with the urge to protect and to care. The sight of Geralt limp and bloody, bound by the wrists in a dark cell is something Jaskier never wants to relive again.

“I don’t care, Jask.”

“I care.”

“Then make it better.”

So he does. Geralt never wavers as Jaskier captures his lips and pours everything he cannot voice into the kiss, drawing a contented moan out of the witcher.

“Does it still hurt?” the bard whispers between one breath and the next.

“A little.”

Jaskier resumes his work and cards deft fingers through silver hair, careful not to nudge the handkerchief. His nails ghost over Geralt’s scalp and scratches gently until a purring sound rumbles deep in the witcher’s chest. The bard giggles proudly.

“Now?”

“Keep going.”

Geralt traps Jaskier between his strong arms devours him with passion, the heat of his body solid and calming.

Jaskier has never thought of himself as a protector, except at this moment with his witcher arching into his every touch and producing those heavenly sounds. The world is too bent on hurting Geralt, too eager to take and take and take from him.

A bard is not a fighter. Jaskier cannot stop monsters from tearing through armors or crossbows fired with ill intent.

But a bard is a lover. What Jaskier can do is heal, is piece Geralt back together with gentle words in the dark and soft lips on the thin skin at his temple.

“How about now?”

They are panting in tandem, the gold of Geralt’s eyes dreamy and out of this world.

“Still dizzy.”

“That’s from all the kissing, you oaf.”

But Geralt begs wordlessly with those wide, puppy-like eyes so openly, and Jaskier’s already non-existent resolve breaks into a million pieces. He kisses Geralt until the witcher melts into a puddle of purring mess, sun-warmed and pliant.

And he kisses Geralt more.

Again and again.

---

Thanks for the prompt. I kind of just rolled with the concept. The twist looks a bit obvious from the beginning, but feel free to tell me what you think. <3

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @dapandapod @artisanbaguette @birdsflyhome

Please tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #reverse trope #trope subversion #soft geraskier #geralt x jaskier #cw: blood #soft jaskier #hurt geralt #geralt whump #mutual pining #love confession #first kiss #italicized oh #hurt/comfort

262 notes · View notes

albakore · 3 years

Text

Buying them flowers

Synopsis: They were overworking themself again, so reader thought it might be nice to do something thoughtful for them.

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Jean (gn!reader)

Warnings: none, just fluff!

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘•⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅ ⊰ ⋅•⋅

Diluc:

we all know Diluc is the CEO of overworking himself. this man never lets himself catch a break

if you are in an established relationship, he definitely buys you flowers on the regular.

flowers are just the perfect gift in his mind: they don’t take up useless space forever, they look pretty, they smell nice, there’s variety, the list goes on

he definitely doesn’t expect to come home to you handing him a bouquet though

Diluc let his shoulders sag as he stepped in the door to the winery. The abyss had been more active than usual, and while it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle, it still left him sore and grumpy at the end of the day. His eyes scanned the dim area that was his living area. There were a few lit candles about but judging by the stillness of the space he assumed most of his staff had resigned to their homes for the night.

Just as Diluc let his guard down and began freeing himself from his excessive outerwear he hid himself in all day, you stepped out quietly from your shared bedroom and approached him. Diluc noticed your footsteps right away, he was a well-trained fighter after all, so of course he knew how to pick up even the slightest shift in his surroundings. There was an odd rustling sound that accompanied you before he felt your palm placed firmly against his back to get his attention.

“Surprise.” You spoke softly as he turned around to spot the bouquet in your hands. You had a soft, sympathetic smile on your face as you took in how tired the man before you appeared. The ever perseverant and reliable Master Diluc with bags under his eyes and tussled hair and his jaw perpetually clenched. You took his gloved hand in yours and raised it so you could place the flowers in his palm.

“What’s this for?” He asked softly, looking at all the different kinds of flowers you had incorporated.

“For you, silly!” You chuckled at his reaction. “What, I’m not allowed to get my lover flowers?” You feigned defensiveness as you settled your amused gazed on his bewildered expression. He brought the flowers up to his nose and breathed in the pleasant floral scent before he wrapped his arms around you, exhaling a small thank you before letting his head fall onto your shoulder almost defeatedly — almost because nothing in this world had bested the Ragnvindr yet. You knew he was strong enough to push through this, all he needed was a little support. He took a few deep breathes, appreciating the presence of his lover, allowing himself just one moment of vulnerability. It seems a bouquet was all it took to break down yet another part of the man’s emotional walls.

Kaeya:

when he spots the bouquet his first thought is how you are just the cutest

he’ll occasionally buy you bouquets if he happens to see something pretty while he’s out adventuring or if Flora has something interesting out for sale

he’s a fan of single flowers, something he can tuck behind your ear gently while he watches you grow flustered by his actions

definitely a single rose kinda guy, even if it’s super cliche

Oh, what’s this? He muses to himself, eyes glinted with mirth as he approaches his desk. He glances over the flowers and the note and wonders who the anonymous suitor could be. He hopes to himself as he reaches for the note that you were the one who left these flowers for him but he knows he has his fair share of people pining over him, so it wouldn’t exactly be a surprise if it were someone else. Even despite you two’s public relationship, that doesn’t always stop the odd bold soul from thinking they could steal him from you, wrongfully so of course. His eyes instantly flit to your named signed at the bottom and his smile grows from his normal cocky smirk to a genuine soft expression.

The letter reads:

How’s work, Captain? Home feels emptier without you here. I miss you telling me good morning and good night every day. I know Mondstadt’s needs are more important right now than one individuals, but that doesn’t stop me from awaiting the moment I can wrap my arms around you again. On the bright side, no one’s pinched my ass in days! That’s about the only positive part of this whole situation, though. Say, when your workload lessens again we should get dinner together! Sara from Good Hunter keeps asking me when you’ll stop by. Well, I’ll let you return to your work now. Thinking of you, always.

Kaeya sighed as he set down the note and picked up the flowers. He’d been covering for Jean for a few days while she attended to other business. He didn’t mind, really, it was the least he could do in return for all she did for Mondstadt, but he couldn’t deny he missed you too. He’d been staying in his old dorm at the Favonius HQ to make his life a little easier; he was up late into the night working on paperwork in her office and up early in the morning to go on patrol. It would only be a couple more days until she returned and he could yet again have you laid on his chest comfortably.

He’d have to remember to ask Albedo for a vase to keep these flowers in, and surely Sucrose would know of a way to up their longevity so he could keep them on his desk for as long as possible. He sat down in his chair and picked up a pen and loose piece of paper to begin writing you his response.

Jean:

jean is an absolutely sucker when her s/o buys her flowers.

everyone knows Jean’s secret favorite pass time is reading romance novels

so that kind of super corny but romantic shit is right up her alley. how to woo jean gunnhildr 101

she doesn’t get to buy her lover flowers as often as she would like. the thought that she should always crosses her mind at the least convenient of times.

she’ll be nowhere near flora/any sort of flower patch and she’ll think “i should get them some flowers to make up for not being home as often as i would like to be”

but then she’ll be whisked away by someone else in mondstadt who needs her help and well…

Jean was fresh out of the shower, hair down and damp, towel wrapped around her body as he made her way to your shared bedroom. You had gone out to fetch you two something to eat for dinner, so it was just her left in the apartment. She opened the door quietly and was taken aback by the scene in front of her. There were candles lit all along the desk and dresser, there were flower petals scattered about the floor from the door to surrounding the bed. In the middle of the bed sat a bouquet of flowers awaiting her.

She hadn’t moved an inch, her mouth was slightly ajar and her hand still firmly gripped the door handle — in a good way of course. She hadn’t registered the front door opening that signified you entering with dinner. You paused and watched her for a minute before setting the food down and making your way over to her. You brushed some of her hair away from her shoulder and pressed a kiss there causing her eyes to snap over to you. “(Y/N)! I-I don’t even know what to say-“ she stammered over her words, cheeks growing redder by the second. You giggled, bringing her knuckle to your lips.

“Go put on some comfy clothes and then we’ll eat. We’ll worry about everything else later. You’ve been working so hard lately, I just thought you might appreciate some.. relaxation.”

She sighed before leaning over and pecking your cheek. “Thank you, really.” She murmured before stepping into the bedroom. You watched as she continued to glance around the room in awe as she made her way to the closet. You turned and walked back to the boxes of food you had brought home. Of course you two had to enjoy dinner before dessert.

#diluc x you #diluc x reader #diluc x y/n #kaeya x you #kaeya x reader #jean x reader #jean x you #jean gunnhildr #diluc ragnvindr #kaeya alberich #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader

188 notes · View notes

keilemlucent · 3 years

Note

if you are interested, i would like to present my dear salem with hero hawks and his little horny crush on his innocent assistant bc man’s corruption kink go brrrrrr😇

okay look LOOK i have... such a thing for hawks getting a h*rd on for his sweet, far-too kind PA.

(NSFW)

word count: 2.5k

warnings: dubcon, coersion, (a little bit of) yandere hawks, reader wears lingerie, reader is sorta oblivious, sugar daddy hawks, scumbag hawks, power imbalance, hawks is a manipulative bastard but its hot so who cares <3

...

“Are you sure this is... appropriate, sir?”

No, no, definitely not, not at all. Taking his sweet, desperately-in-need-of-a-break PA out on a little shopping spree was definitely crossing a lot of professional lines, but how could he care? He was far more focused on the wobbly way ‘sir’ had dripped off your tongue.

It wasn’t sin, but he’d get you there, he was quite persuasive.

The little shopping trip (literally) landed you at a luxury mall across Fukuoka, many-floored and lavishing decorated with twinkling, bright bulbs and crystal on every fixture. The stores were expensive, too expensive for you to afford on your own but Keigo knew how hard you’d been working! All that extra paperwork (he’d been purposefully giving you because it kept you around the office later and more often) had been getting done beautifully, and you deserved a treat. Many of them.

Consider it an early bonus.

You already had quite a few bags dangling off your arms, the cords and ribbons digging into your arms (god, he wished he could make some marks of his own--). And Keigo had decided to treat you to one, final stop. He guided you to the store entrance with a hand on your lower back.

God help you, a lingerie store.

Nothing cheap, only custom-made and designer pieces. It was more of a boutique, some places private where no one would bother the two of you.

He watched your expression, the pull of your brows and the way your pupils dilated. It might’ve been from a bit of ill-placed stress, but he’s sure he can get your eyes just as inky other ways, if given the opportunity.

“This is remarkably appropriate, dove,” He hummed and ushered you inside the store entrance, flashing a grin to the starry-eyed salesclerk. His hand drifted downward, just over the upper curves of your ass, just to watch you squirm. “Consider it a reward! You’ve been doing so much good for me and the agency, you deserve a treat or two, don’t you think?”

You shifted the bags on your arms and dared to meet his gaze with your own, meek and wide, “I-I think this is more than ‘a treat or two’--”

“Then shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, thanking me for my generosity then?” Keigo smirked as your expression faltered. You were way too easy and god, he fucking loved it.

Before you had a chance to fret anymore, he assured you quietly that everything was alright. A bit of praise to ice the pinpricks he left behind. He shooed you into the fitting rooms, pointing a beaming smile at a clerk and getting to work.

He’d have you spoiled, whether you liked it or not.

...

You sat on the plush bench of the fitting room, hands in fist and lip tucked between your teeth. You chewed on it, swallowing around your dry throat. Hawks’ voice drifted back from the salesfloor, though you couldn’t tell what he was saying. You could pick up words like ‘sweet’ and ‘cute’ and you could only assume the words were about the bright-eyed, big-titted employee you saw when you walked in.

You squeeze the fabric of your skirt and tried to let some of the tension in your shoulders dissipate.

“Oh, wow, dove, the selection they have here is amazing!” Hawks whistled as he returned to the fitting room, alone, carrying an armful of padded, velvet hangers.

“I can imagine,” You wished you could have looked around a bit yourself, but Hawks had a much better eye for these things than you did. You were very fortunate to have him around.

He arranged them on a gold railing nearby, wings tucked to his back as to not crowd the small space of the dressing room.

It was truly just a single room, though it was large enough. Six-sided, each wall complete with a well-padded, velvet bench seat to idle on. The middle of the room had a little raised platform, leading to three, angled mirrors. They were massive and felt a bit too revealing as Hawks hummed to himself nearby.

The only thing separating you from the rest of the store was a heavy, velvet draping.

Hawks plopped onto the cushion next to you, letting out a deep sigh and leaning back. You watched him, gaze flickering from the garments on the rack and the exposed patch of his chest visible from the unpopped buttons of his shirt.

His feathers brushed up against your arm and you shuddered.

“Now, sweet thing,” He clicked his tongue, jerking his gaze to the hangers. “I picked out some pretty sweet pieces for you. Why don’t you try them on and let me know what you think, hm?”

You nodded, though your stomach felt like there was suddenly lead in it. From the looks of the lace and silks, those pieces weren't going to cover much of anything. You mentally sparred with yourself.

It’s not... that bad. It’s not like he’s going to see anything more than he would if you were wearing a swimsuit.

Besides, this a gift, right? You should at least show him what he’d paid for on an actual body.

He had you so well-trained--

You stood, moving to the rack on shaking legs and examining the pieces.

They’re all... a bit whorish. None of those soft babydolls and teddies that folks wore in those softcore pornos that you definitely never watched. The pieces Hawks picked for you aren’t the least bit modest. They’re all lace, mesh, and ribbons. Stockings and garters that looked like they might be a tich too snug. You grab the least garish-looking piece.

And Hawks was still in the room, body lax and slumped against the cushions.

His eyes lazily opened, a bushy brow-raising, “You good, dove?”

“... Aren’t you gonna step out?”

He chuckled and you knew you were fucked. Just not literally, not yet.

“Why the hell would I do that?” Hawks laughed and righted himself. His vibrant gold eyes bore into yours, though they looked more black than topaz by that point.

You swallowed.

“I would prefer if you d-did.”

“And if I don’t?” His voice oozed something that made your knees weak. “What then? I know you don’t like disappointing me.”

You didn’t, but this was a bit far. ‘A bit’.

“... s-sir, please,” You begged, albeit quietly.

This was crossing lines. As much as Hawks gave you special treatment at the agency, literally and figuratively taking you under his wing and tending to your needs as he saw them and has he saw fit, stripping and playing dress-up in expensive lingerie definitely was too far.

As much as part of you adored the attention, you tried to keep that quiet. Stuffed down and hidden. Hawks was your boss, and you had to keep yourself occupied with his busy schedule and mountains of paperwork, lest you allow yourself to dissolve into thinking his attentions were anything other than favoritism.

Oh my god, you really were that dense

“’Please’?” Hawks cocked his head to the side, the corners of his lips curling. “‘Please’ what, dovey? Tell me.”

You let out a shaking breath, “Hawks, this is remarkably inappropriate--”

“Maybe,” He cuts you off swiftly, a flap of his wings pushing him to his feet and directly in front of you. “You just need some help? That’s it?”

Your mouth went dry. He wasn’t wrong, not really.

“That’s all, huh?” Hawks ran a hand through his hair, his wings curling around the room, too-wide and fluffed for the small space. “Should’ve just said something. I imagine you don’t do this kind of thing often.”

“N-no, I don’t.”

Does anyone?

“That’s alright, I know you try your best and just need that extra push, hm?” Hawks sighed, deep in his chest.

With the scarlet swallowing your peripheral vision, you feel like you’re suffocating. Maybe in a good way. You nodded, pliant.

He always knows you. What you want, what you crave, what you need.

Nimble fingers untucked your blouse from your waist, and you yipped at the chill of his fingers. He was undeterred, loosening the garment and immediately going for the buttons.

One by one, they came undone and you wrap your arms tighter around your middle. Hawks ogled, openly and without a care. It made something in you writhe, but you still wanted more of it. His attention, overt affections that supposedly mean nothing-- you want it.

He slid the blouse from your shoulder, letting it fall to the ground. You watched as his feather shuddered, rippling as he let out a few harsh breaths. You knew how you must look, hot and flushed to the touch. Bare on your upper half, sans a cheap bra that had seen better.

“Are you sure--” You weren’t sure what you were going to ask, but Hawks didn’t let you say it besides.

“Yes, of course, obviously,’” He licked his goddamn lips. A taloned-finger caught the pilling strap of your bra, snapping it against your shoulder. “Besides, look at this! Can’t have you representing the agency, me, and my brand wearing shit like this.”

Something burned in your gut, some mix of shame and arousal that was threatening to spill from the wet corners of your eyes.

Hawks dropped to his knees, so fast you hardly could register it. His hands hooked in your skirt by the first two knuckles and tugged and he went down. The sound of splitting fabric cracked in the air, and your skirt fell to the floor in tatters.

And Hawks, the fucker, hovered just inches away from your covered cunt. The cheap cotton of your panties did nothing to shield you from the hot breath that he fanned over you.

“H-Hawks!” You cried out, attempting to push at his shoulders with sweaty palms. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“Just taking a closer look,” He gave you no time to protest as those quick fingers of his pulled the elastic of your panties, tugging them down your thighs. He had the decency to tap your ankles, one at a time, so you could step out of the garment. “You don’t mind, do you?”

You let him.

Perhaps you should’ve protested a bit more. Maybe. But it wasn’t like this wasn’t your wildest fantasy. Your sweet, too-kind boss, spoiling you. You weren’t sure if you’d thought about Hawks that way at first, but he had gotten to you at some point. The impromptu lunches, the late nights together, the walks and flights home. There was even that one he’d managed to wrestle a guy getting too handsy at a club with (how had he known you’d even been there?)

Hawks unclipped your bra, throwing the thing to the side with a look akin to disgust. He snatched the hanger and garment from your hand and nodded toward the platform.

“Stand over there like a good girl for me, okay? Don’t take your eyes off yourself.”

You couldn’t disobey him, could you?

You’d seen what he did to people who crossed him, when it really mattered. He didn’t put his heart or energy into something unless he really, actually cared. And the handful of times you’d seen that go to shit had left memories of sharpened feathers and terror-filled eyes in their wake.

But you were good for him. His assistant who always made sure his meetings lined up with his patrols, and that everything was brief unless entirely necessary otherwise. You were the one who made sure he had caffeine nearby and a full belly, even on his most busy of days.

He’d never do anything other than be kind, right?

You didn’t want to find out otherwise.

He approached you from behind, the silk of the garment tucked over his arm. His eyes looked predatory, gleaming and inky.

He only stopped when his chest is flush to your back, hands finding their home just above your hips with a squeeze. You shuddered at the feeling, new and raw and you couldn’t tell if you hated or loved it.

“I want to see how this looks on you, god,” Hawks groaned, nails biting into your skin. “Hold still for me, dove.”

You did.

You didn’t dare move an inch as Hawks took his sweet time dressing you up. The garment is silken straps, the lace wrapping around the curves of your hips and chest, securely with expert bows that he pats into place after each one.

It was impossible to ignore the bulge pressing into your ass. Even as he pulled the pair of panties between your cheeks, stroking the lace and the fat with a wide palm, you were far more focused on the heat and hardness slowly grinding at the other cheek.

He tied you up expertly, and you watched in the mirrors, seeing each angle of it. The way his hands squeezed and pulled at your flesh along the way. The hungry glint in his eyes as he traced your figure. The way his wings seemed to shake and flutter in tandem with your short, quick breaths.

You were truly at his mercy.

“Look at that,” He whistled low, grabbing your jaw and pulling your gaze just where he’d like. “Tied up like a pretty present I told you this would be good, didn’t I?”

“Y-You did.”

Hawks sighed, draping himself over your shoulders and nuzzling into your neck. You could feel the part of his plush lips, the way they drag over your skin. You swore you a nip or two.

His gaze met yours in the mirror. One of his hands trailed low, very low, sliding over top of the lace panties and cupping your sex. His index fingers lazily traced your lips through the fabric, idle. His other went to grope your chest, more insistent as he palmed at you, pinching a nipple as you began to sputter.

A warbled moan cracked from your lips as Hawks fingers dipped below the seams of the pretty garment, rubbing at just the rights parts of you, tugging your body flush to his.

“W-Wait, Hawks!” You wrapped a hand around on his wrist, begging your breath to stay somewhat even. “What if someone hears? Or one of the employees comes back? What if--”

“Do you think I care?” Hawks groaned, grunting as he ground into your ass. The unmistakable sound of fabric tearing cut through the room (again) and the fabric of his pants hit the ground. And suddenly you could feel how hard and hot he was.

Something twisted in your gut and your legs rubbed together. Hawks caught your gaze, scarlet enveloping the room from the sides of your vision and the mirror in front of you.

Hawks shifted your face toward his, nosing along your cheek. The grip on your jaw was replaced by one on your throat; he was hardly exerting any pressure but the threat and meaning were clear.

Keigo has you right where he wants you. He always has, always will. You’re just a bit too... naive? No, maybe dumb... That’s a bit mean, isn’t it?”

“You need this just as I do,” He spoke low and rolling, touch burning like embers. “You know you do. I know you do. You trust me, don’t know?”

All you could do was nod before Keigo slotted his lips to yours, staking a claim that was only new to you. He nipped at your bottom lip, tugged until you were wincing into his mouth. He caught every sound, every little gesture of yours was his, just like you were. Keigo kicked himself for waiting for this so long, but he could be ginger, under the right circumstances. Ones that benefited him. He could only hope you were as good of a fuck as you were fun to toy with.

You’d be sin yet, Keigo resolved as he pulled away. He just had to coax you there first, and he wasn’t against more... direct methods.

Maybe you’d finally get it then.

#salem answers #tw dubcon #hawks x reader #hawks #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo #my hero academia #PLEASE mind the tags askdljfks #i've never posted anything like this on this blog so #enjoy💕#honeykeigo

322 notes · View notes