#his face is never supposed to be actually seen due to how fucked up it is

[sanakiras]

HEAVEN

PAIRING — jeon wonwoo x fem!reader

WORD COUNT — 3.4k

SYNOPSIS — wonwoo has a reputation for being distant, quiet and a bit mysterious. once you get to know him better, though, you come to find the sweet, shy boy underneath the surface.

TAGS — established relationship, explicit sexual content, sub-ish virgin!wonwoo, lowkey corruption kink, i have a sickening crush on this man can you tell, not proofread :)

♪ — the nbhd - heaven,, hank lotion - k-sEx

NOTE — gam3 bo1 wonwoo and ep 1 nana tour wonwoo footage has been making me act UP and i think he’s just so cute <3 screw the hard dom wonu agenda i like to see my men a lil WEAK ‼️😁

like most people, you felt rather intimidated when you met jeon wonwoo for the first time.

stoic, quiet, intelligent. the strong and silent type. that was the clear image you had of him. and to top it all off, he had the criminally good looks too. a relatively rare kind of man to come across, in your opinion.

though you began to see him in a different light after bonding with him over your shared love for video games. since then, you’ve discovered he can actually be quite talkative, cracking silly puns or laughing at the corniest dad jokes. he’s well-spoken and is actually very open about his feelings, which you found refreshing.

and while developing a friendship with him, you realized how much of a big softie he actually is, which paints quite the contrast compared to his cold and quiet persona he unintentionally seems to put up towards those outside his circle of close friends and family.

it reminds you of the day he asked you out — that sweet, shy smile on his face with rosy cheeks, all flustered and stuttering that you really don’t have to say yes if you don’t feel like it and he’ll push it all to the side like nothing happened if that’s what you’d prefer—

you very easily interrupted him by agreeing to go on a date with him. you’d never seen him smile wider.

wonwoo is cute when he smiles.

and despite his nervousness in the beginning, he still made efforts to be as talkative as he could and show you his interest in you, which you found very sweet. you had a great time with him, and you noticed rather quickly how comfortable you felt around him.

a couple dates later, he asked you if you wanted to be his girlfriend, and you certainly didn’t refuse him.

he’s also turned out to be a gentleman in his own way — subtly saying he could do certain things for you to make your life easier in that monotone voice of his, eyes following you around whenever he’s with you.

the first time he slept over at your place was rather recently after you two made it official. it wasn’t planned, since he was supposed to go back to his place after your date, but due to issues with public transport, you offered him to stay with you instead.

with his face and chest bare, he got into bed next to you. of course you’d imagined what he looked like underneath his big hoodies, but actually having him by your side like this was different.

and wonwoo was putting every bit of effort into playing it cool, even though he was freaking out to be sleeping next to his first girlfriend, forcing himself to look away from your tank top that left very little to the imagination.

yet ironically, it was all he could fantasize about before drifting to sleep.

normally, you’d only let a guy into your bed to do things other than sleeping once you’ve been dating for quite a while. it’s never been something you like to initiate quickly — but wonwoo’s been making you question it. severely.

because he looks so hot when he’s out on the field with his football team, when he’s working out, when he’s gaming on his pc, even when he just fucking smiles at you. the worst thing of it all might be that he doesn’t even seem the slightest bit aware of how attractive he is, nor what effect it has on you.

maybe you should really just tell him you want to jump him like a tree.

but you don’t want to rush him. for all you know, he doesn’t feel like doing that at all with you yet, and for some reason you just didn’t know when or how to ask him about it. later, you thought to yourself.

though you will say you’ve been pushing his buttons a little over the course of time. ever since that night, you’ve subtly been putting yourself on display for him. low-cut shirts and dresses so he can take a peek at your cleavage, accidentally exposing a bit of the fabric of your lingerie, sitting in his lap and rubbing up on him — unintentionally, of course.

it took every ounce of self-control in your body not to smirk when you felt him stiffen up underneath you.

the progress of your relationship has been nothing but positive, really. but you’re aching for him to just touch you at this point.

the day you hit your breaking point isn’t much later. you were trying on some newly bought dresses in front of him, one more revealing than the other — sundresses always work magic on men for whatever reason — and you turned around to find him pathetically trying to hide his hard-on while seated on your bed.

and you just couldn’t find it in you to wait any longer.

so that’s how you ended up sitting in his lap, hands on the back of his neck as you’re grinding against him. his glasses are sitting lop-sided on his nose, black locks messy from your fingers threading through them, lips swollen from your kisses.

the moment he feels your fingers tugging at his hoodie, he feels the need to clear up what he’s been meaning to tell you for a while now.

“i need to tell you something. i’ve—” he cuts himself off when he accidentally lets out a whimper, “i’ve never had sex with anyone.”

he’s still heavily breathing, looking at you in anticipation, and you just can’t escape the buzzing feeling you get from the idea of taking his virginity.

“do you want to?” you ask him, and how could he say no when you’re holding his face like this, looking at him like you’re willing to give him the ride of his life?

“yeah, yeah, i just—i usually don’t last very long,” he sheepishly admits, then internally asking himself why the fuck he would say that, “sorry, i’m nervous.”

but you think it’s endearing. “i don’t mind. we can always go for a second round, right?”

all he can do is nod his head in agreement. “i, i um—i’m not sure what to do next. i’m sorry, this is embarrassing.”

“it’s not, really. it’s not some big performance you need to put up, it’s something fun and exciting and intimate. you can go ahead and relax, and tell me if you like or don’t like what i’m doing.” you reassure him so patiently, which puts him at ease.

jesus — if anything, he’s already a whimpering, stuttering mess and you’re hardly even touching him.

so you move your hand down into his boxers, fingers wrapping around him to test the waters. he gasps in surprise once he feels you touching him, heat rushing to his cheeks.

“just let me take care of you, ‘kay? we can stop anytime.” you tell him, and he trusts you enough to let you go on.

you press another kiss to his lips before moving backwards, fingers taking a hold of the waistband of both his sweatpants and boxers.

the cold on his skin makes him shiver, but he’s hardly given the time to feel exposed in front of you when you’ve already got your hands on him, pleasantly surprised by his size.

“you’re so big, wonu.” you tell him in a sweet voice, feeling like you’re about to drool at the sight of him.

“didn’t think i was big.” he mumbles more to himself than to you, staring at the ceiling as he tries to steady his breathing.

you chuckle a little as you watch him. “you are. gonna have to work for it to make you fit into me.” the words make his eyes widen, images of you getting fucked by him flashing through his mind.

“fuck, really?”

“mhm. but you’ll do that for me, won’t you?”

wonwoo is absolutely crumbling underneath you here. the effect that your mere words have on him should be studied, because shit, he’s never felt this hot before. why is it so hot in here? is he sweating already? “yeah, i’ll—i’ll do anything you want me to.”

he’s such a sweetheart that it makes you want to ruin him.

for the sake of both his and your own pleasure, you decide not to tease any longer and touch his cock with your lips. he lets out a moan of surprise, the feeling being unfamiliar to him, but holy shit — this has got to be what heaven feels like.

his chest heaves as he tries to control his breathing once more, focusing on keeping his breathing by his stomach. your tongue darts out to lick his cock, and he whimpers, which makes you triumphantly smile a little.

you’re genuinely curious to see how long he can last, so you catch him by surprise by taking him into your mouth as far as possible, and his hand subconscously flies to the back of your head, and he doesn’t know whether he wants to push your head down or pull it back. he releases a choked moan, spurring you on to keep him lodged in your throat despite his efforts to pull you off him.

“fuck—please don’t make me cum already, baby, please—” he begs, loving the feeling of your mouth on him like that — he just doesn’t want to hit his peak that fast.

unfortunately for him, you do.

with your mouth currently no longer on him, you gently jerk him off instead, his hips automatically bucking into your grip. "what if i want you to?"

“you’ve barely—barely touched me. ‘s embarrassing.” he chokes out. the heat is still rushing to his cheeks. his hands are shaking.

of course he’s nervous. you’re his first time, his first girlfriend, it’s all new to him. he’s clearly afraid you might be turned off by him being all flustered like this.

so you make it your mission to show him it’s very much the opposite.

discarding your dress, you’re left in your tank top and underwear, nipples poking through the thin, white fabric. you move to tilt his face up with your glossy, acrylic nail, gently holding his chin, your face mere inches away from his.

“do you have any idea how wet i am? just from seeing you like this?” you ask, pulling his one hand down so he can feel the dampness of your panties. “bet you could slip right in.”

a broken whimper slips out of his mouth when he feels it. he didn’t know you were this turned on.

you push his head and upper body back against the pillows, making him lie down fully, and you’re just so eager to suck the life out of him.

the feeling of your warm mouth and tongue around him makes him experience a sensation he didn’t think was possible. christ, this must be what heaven feels like.

“oh my god—you’re so fucking good.” he’s arching his back with his eyes tightly shut from the pleasure you’re giving him. it’s only when you take him as far in your throat as possible that the first guttural groan is ripped from the depths of his chest. it’s a low, sexy sound that makes you clench around nothing.

he’s burning hot under you, causing his glasses to fog up a little. he carelessly throws the pair onto his nightstand, the grip on the back of your head becoming harsher and less gentle than before, because he’s that fucking close now.

it’s cute seeing wonwoo not knowing what to do with himself. keeping your mouth on his cock, gripping the sheets, throwing his head back before he casts his eyes back down to watch you suck him off — it’s like he’s being overstimulated in the best way possible.

it’s enough for you to sense he’s close, which makes you take your mouth off him to jerk him off instead, all so you can watch him chase his release. “that’s it, wonu, give it to me.”

there’s a sudden shiver that runs from his back and core all the way down to his toes. he tenses up, unintentionally grabbing your wrist to stop your movements as he trembles and his body gives in to his orgasm.

once he’s coming down from his high, he looks at you like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

“that was… holy shit.” he laughs a little to himself, eliciting a chuckle from you.

“i’m that good, huh?”

“yeah.”

“wanna keep going?”

“mhm.”

“okay. take off your shirt.”

wonwoo blinks for a moment. he practically forgot he was still wearing one, so he sits up and gets rid of the black shirt, throwing it beside your bed, now completely bare before you.

if he’s being honest, you did ease his nerves by letting him have his first orgasm already. the strange sense of shame he previously felt has disappeared into the air, with only nervous excitement left.

he feels good.

especially when he watches you move to sit on your knees on the bed, removing the tank top and slipping out of your underwear.

his eyes are glued to your naked body, hardly able to look away — that is, until you sit down in his lap, your dripping heat touching his hardening dick, making him twitch under you.

“where do you keep your condoms?”

the question forces him out of his constant staring at your body. “uh—nightstand.” he mutters, taking the initiative to reach and get it himself.

thankfully, he manages to get it on himself quickly. you urge him to lie back down again while you position yourself above him, shamelessly staring at his strong chest and broad shoulders.

his mouth is agape when you sink down on him, and fuck, he’s in so deep.

the stretch burns, especially because you didn’t get yourself ready, but you’re so dripping wet to the point you don’t care — you need him in you.

wonwoo notices you struggle despite your arousal. “you don’t have to take me all the way if it hurts.”

you hum, a half-smirk creeping onto your face. “but it hurts so good. so i will.”

once he’s sheathed fully inside you, he’s subconsciously holding his breath. the anticipation for you to move is killing him. the sensitivity of his dick makes him whimper, his lashes fluttering as his teeth sink into his lower lip in a failed attempt to hold it together.

you decide to tease him a little by clenching down on him. his hands fly to your hips, gripping the skin harder than intended from the sudden feeling, his breathing becoming erratic again. “hah—don’t do that, please, i don’t wanna cum yet baby—please.”

“why? you close?” you ask him with an innocent face, knowing damn well what you’re doing to him.

“yeah. need you so bad.” he answers truthfully, his ego and pride nowhere to be found anymore. whether he sounds pathetic or not, he doesn’t give a shit. all he knows is that you’re sitting on top of him and he needs you to make him feel what he’s been desperate to feel for so damn long.

so you tilt your head. “‘s okay, wonu. i’ll give it to you.”

he can hardly even make out a response before you lift your hips and proceed to sink back down on him, your hands on his chest. a filthy moan rolls past his lips — you think it’s the best sound you’ve ever heard in your damn life.

then you begin to roll your hips, and he sucks through his teeth from the feeling, a mix of overstimulation and pleasure rushing through him. once you let out your first dragged-out moan, his fingers twitch for a moment, digging deeper into your skin.

“have you thought about this? fucking me?”

despite the position he’s in right now, he still feels his face heat up when you ask him dirty things like that, even more so when he answers them.

“yeah, i did.”

“when? tell me. i wanna hear it.” you tell him, and when you’re so gorgeously riding him like this, how could he not oblige?

wonwoo swallows, stuttering as he focuses on recalling the memories while admiring you and the feeling you’re letting him experience. “when i saw you wearing that short skirt on our second date, and—and that time you came to watch me at the football game. couple of my teammates were drooling over you. so was i.”

his words turn you on, because you doubted whether you were sensing actual jealousy from him that night, and this confirms it.

“were you?” you ask, running your nails down his stomach. “what’d you do about it?”

he bites his lip. “i’ll sound like a pervert if i answer that.”

teasing him again, you push yourself down on him almost harshly, relishing in the way he gasps under you. wonwoo is wonderfully responsive in bed, and you’re having a fucking field trip with it.

“yeah? try me.”

“i touched myself after getting home, and i... thought about you. in that skirt.”

“i’ll wear it for you next time.” you smile, watching him close his eyes in pleasure when you leave your marks on his chest, putting a few hickeys on his neck and collarbone on purpose. “i touched myself thinking of you, too.”

that makes him twitch inside you, which is exactly what you wanted.

his hands dip to the curve of your ass, following your movement. “really?”

“mhm. i thought you looked so sexy in your football attire. you were wearing that tight compression shirt that you always wear when you go to the gym too — drove me nuts, wonu.” you confess, which seems to work as a brief shot of adrenaline for him.

he moves to sit up, bringing your bodies closer together by looping his arms around your waist, the slight change in position making you moan.

the drag of his cock inside you is slowly making you go insane. your face is hot and you’re dripping wet for him, sucking him in to the point you feel like you need to claw at the walls.

“god, feels so good.” he mutters, his mouth finding your breasts before he begins to suck on the skin like a man starved.

once he notices you’re both getting closer, but you’re getting tired from your position on top, he takes a breath and flips you over, now hovering above you.

burying his face in the crook of your neck, he holds onto your body and fucks you. his thrusts are harder than he intends them to, the control over his body lost in his relentless drive to make you both feel good.

he’s panting hard, doing everything in his power to make you cum first this time while indulging in his own pleasure as well. “am i doing good for my first time? does it feel good?”

god, you can only half-catch the words with the way he’s fucking you. it’s almost funny — such a sweetheart he is, asking you if he’s doing well while simultaneously fucking you into oblivion.

“you’re so good, wonu. so good—‘m so close.” you cry out, manicured nails digging into his back, making him groan.

“wanna feel you cum around me so bad.” the words almost sound like a plea, like he’s begging you for it.

then he kisses your neck, and he hits the perfect spot inside you over and over, and it’s enough to make you clench so hard around him that he can’t hold it any longer. your orgasm makes your legs shake, and he fucks you right through it, making you wonder why the hell it took the universe so long to let him into your life.

he moans and whines and shakes when he hits his climax, twitching inside you, filling up the condom. with heavy breaths, he lets his body rest on top of you, his head by your collarbone, a comfortable silence emerging as your heartbeats slow and breathing steadies.

surprisingly, it’s him who speaks up first.

“i’m gonna need a while for my legs to start working again.” he chuckles breathily, covering his face a little when he notices you poking fun at him.

“aw, baby, did i drain you that much?”

“i genuinely can’t even feel my limbs.”

you laugh at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and he smiles so sweetly — as if he didn’t just fuck the living daylights out of you. “wanna go again?”

he blushes a bit, tilting his head as if he has to think about it, before sheepishly giving you his answer.

“... yeah.”

thanks for reading! let me know if u liked it x

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

#jeon wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #svt ff #svt fic #seventeen fanfic #svt x reader #svt smut #svthub #jeon wonwoo fanfic #original post

[ghostaholics]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐒

➸ PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader (established relationship) ➸ WARNING(S): [ 18+ ] body shots; oral (receiving); ruined orgasm; basically PWP with slight BDSM (disciplinary action) ➸ SUMMARY: Simon teaches you a very important lesson about holding still – extended version of this. ➸ A/N: Thank you to @mvtthewmurdvck who lets me bitch about anything and everything including this and offered kind words when I certainly lost faith in the whole thing. ➸ WORD COUNT: 2.2k

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐎𝐍, 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍’𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄. Pilfered from his not-so-secret stash and running low with about a quarter left; the contents slosh around in their bottle-shaped confinement as he stalks into the room with a heavy hand swallowing around the widest circumference of the glass.

Good memories, usually. Like the first time he’d brandished his titanium pocket flask for you to take a sip. You’d scrunched your nose, feigning disapproval of the drink. And he'd said – cheeky as always – with a low-timbered response:

"Don't worry. The taste of your cunt's still my favourite."

But now, there’s no trace of that Simon anywhere to be seen. His face is entirely devoid of the amusement he already so rarely expressed. Stone-rigid. Unimpressed. Disappointed – seems like – and certainly not in the mood for any games.

❝ 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐇? ❞

It's a red-hot brand searing the edges of your memory (charred, ash-coated, lined by the cinders of a poor attempt on your part that had gone up into flickering embers).

See, the brain remembers it well.

Your cunt, too: the walls hugging his cock, full of his cum – excessively so, nearly bursting with it after he'd buried himself to the hilt and stayed inside just to plug your snug little hole, ensuring that none of it would dribble out after he’d fucked you senseless. He’d given you plenty, more than enough. And it’d been generous of Simon. A gift, really, considering the enormity of the initial request.

Make me yours?

He’d only had one thing to say, just a simple favour in return for doing this, for indulging you. His voice had been hoarse, sandpaper-rough from overuse – your fault entirely – eroded away after being subjected to a whole night's worth of groaning against the shell of your ear and telling you just how fucking good you felt before you'd milked him for everything he was worth with your greedy, pulsing self.

Keep it all in then.

You’d done your best not to clench, but stretched taut around the girth of his cock like that, you'd just wanted to readjust. Not a lot. But the position you'd been in wasn't the most conducive one for this. And you’d shifted – barely, practically inconsequential (or so you’d thought) – to where you wouldn’t have even thought it’d matter except—

It had.

Pushed some of it out, that is. A stream of cum trickling down onto an area of the duvet, staining it – the unfortunate aftermath of your decision to move.

Thas’ a shame. Thought you wanted it. Guess I was wrong.

Simon comes to a stop at the foot of the bed where you're sitting; he towers over you – an intimidating, subduing presence without even having to try. "Had to wash the sheets because you couldn't keep it all in.”

You blink in surprise as your mouth parts slightly in what you're sure must be a dumbfounded expression. Of course, this is nothing new. You were there. Responsible for the incident, apparently. And though it wasn't necessarily your fault, you still feel the need to explain that it was due to factors beyond your control. “There was so much—” (As if it'll help your case.)

But he's never cared much for excuses.

“How ‘m I supposed to finish inside you knowing that you’re just going to waste it?” he asks. It's a rhetorical question, not one that actually requires an answer.

Your chin tips down in a silent apology. There's something heavy sitting in your chest; remorse, you think.

He grips your jaw in his hand, forces you to look at him. “Yeah, love. We’ll fix that. Gonna teach you how to be grateful, how to understand the value in the things I give to you."

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒.

He makes you tell him your colors.

You do.

He asks if you know what you’re supposed to get out of this.

You answer that he’s probably going to have to wash the sheets again before you can learn whatever lesson he’s trying to impose on you.

Yeah, that earns you a sharp pinch to the hip.

That massive body of his sinks to the floor, one leg bending down before the other joins it, rough carpet cutting into his knees, undoubtedly. Then, his fingers curl around your legs, blunt digits sinking in – ten identical divots pressed into the flesh. He leaves light indentations with his palms spanning along the sides of your thighs to spread you open while his elbows anchor into the mattress.

Heat blooms across your skin, every surface that he touches and even in the places that he doesn't – white-hot, intentional (and he never does anything without purpose); it sparks a fever that fans out, unfurls. There's no part of you left unaffected. You're growing warmer by a few degrees. Doesn't sound like much, but it's enough to make a noticeable difference if the beads of sweat gathering at the back of your neck are any indication.

And Simon lets out a soft scoff. Cocky. Like he knew what was waiting for him—

You're soaked, absolutely drenched. Cotton panties, sticky –saturated beyond belief. If you looked there yourself, you wouldn't be surprised to find a damp patch on the fabric steadily growing in size.

He's such a sight, too: the contour of his muscles shifting and rippling, all brawn and power – his presence speaking volumes about just who holds the cards right now, undeniably the one in control here; the visual of his stature and build emphasize that. And authority bleeding from the width of his shoulders if not spelled out by his words alone.

"Haven't even touched you, and you're already dripping," he murmurs. "Why?"

Your mouth trips and stutters over your own words the same way your heart trips and stutters over his. "Because you—y-you're..."

His thumbs hook into your panties, slowly peels them away – not an easy feat, damn things are clinging to your cunt – before dragging them down your legs. "Say it, sweetheart. What do you think I'm gonna do to you?"

And your mind is racing, jumping too many steps ahead. "You're going to eat me out?"

Simon stuffs his panties in his back pocket for safekeeping. A souvenir, since there won't be much use for them now. "I'm gonna eat you out," he affirms.

"Mhm, yeah. Want your mouth on me."

"Whether or not you come depends entirely on if I feel like letting you."

"Oh—"

"Spill a single drop, and you don't come tonight," he says, never one to draw out the details. His instructions are concise, uncomplicated. Then, further inquiry. "We clear?"

"Yeah..." you say with a shaky breath before trying to regain some semblance of composure. "Yes."

"Good girl," he purrs low, almost a growl – though you're not quite certain that you deserve the praise yet.

He’s answering to a shrine, beckoned forward by the invitation of a wet cunt and the promise of a taste of your slick. He pauses, takes a brief moment to admire it in his own way, almost reverent as he takes in how your arousal’s smeared everywhere from your folds to your inner thighs (all for him, because of him – isn’t that right?).

But make no mistake, there’s absolutely nothing respectful about the act that comes next. Simon leans, forces his shoulders to hold you open, before he bows his head and he licks; it’s a hungry tongue lapping at the slit, everything terribly hot and wet – the sensation makes you jolt upon first contact because it's too much. So, so much.

And at the same time, not enough.

The feeling spikes along the circuit running from your head to your toes – empty thoughts save for the white static that buzzes in the hollow of your skull, a tingling, prickling paresthesia-sort-of-thing that usually accompanies the high of an orgasm. Except, the irony’s not lost on you in this instance; he’s hardly even begun to wreak havoc on your cunt yet.

Currents zip down your spine, down, further down, everything else collateral damage. No part of you is spared by the overwhelming fervor responsible for it – the initial onslaught of his mouth laying waste at the spread of your entrance.

Every single nerve-ending is on-edge, trigger-sensitive as he sucks, and kisses, and fuck are his groans heavy, bone-deep, the rumble of a thunderstorm gathering in his chest. They radiate from the point of origin where your core’s suffering, reverberating tremors that diffuse out to the rest of you. It makes your skin thrum like a live wire. There’s no hope of staying in a fixed position if he keeps this up. How could you? The odds are zero to none. It isn’t feasible.

You forget your place, can't help but squirm within his iron grip.

Then, Simon; a severe reprimand— "Watch it," he rasps. It’s a lull amidst the incursion, an unplanned interlude. Temporary reprieve (barely) so he can scold you for your inability to follow his instructions.

A low whimper leaves your throat. That's completely out of the question, beyond what you're currently capable of. Easier said than done. "I'm trying—"

"Then try harder."

Despite how weighed down your eyelids feel, you manage to guide your laden gaze south, let it roam over your stomach. The dark, amber liquid in your navel sways; it rocks, sloshes with the tide, a consequence born from the pull and heave of your jarring movements. Exercise caution. This is delicate work – a balancing act. Those thoughts are cloudy.

Your mind is fuzzy, thick, a drunken haze. Buzzed, lightheaded. And everything's off-kilter. But you haven't had a single drop of alcohol. None at all. Couldn’t, because everything's still sitting in your navel right there like it’s supposed to.

Simon dips his head back between your legs, continues to seal his mouth over you, flattening his tongue to lick thick stripes from your entrance to your clit. He doesn't let up, only bringing his face closer, following that same path again and again and again – agonizing – until you're trembling. The noises he’s making, something debauched and bottomless – one wet groan after the other. This isn't for you. It's for him, that much is clear.

You plead anyways, hoping he'll grant you an amnesty that you haven't earned in the least bit, "Need you inside. Anything, just—"

"Sure you can handle it?"

Breathless when you say, "Ah, yeah..."

"We'll see about that," Simon murmurs.

He doesn't believe you.

To be fair, you’re not so sure you do either.

But he's courteous, slips one finger in and lets you clamp around him. And your cunt flutters, welcomes the feeling.

You release a soft moan. “Want more, Si. Feels good."

His face turns to the side, wet nose and chin grazing along your thigh to spread the slick in more places that haven't been drenched yet. Then he bites. Gentle. An admonishment. Nothing serious about it though: scraping, the light pressure of teeth sinking into the skin as he pulls with his mouth.

You jerk suddenly before catching yourself.

"Don't be fuckin' greedy. You'll take what I give you, and you'll thank me for it." He's curt, perfunctory. No delay as he offers up his two fingers to your mouth. The expectation is clear. “Suck.” And he's waiting.

You wrap your lips around them, swallowing him down, not one to squander an opportunity sitting in front of you, right? You understand that now.

“So tell me how good you taste.”

"I-um, taste good—"

"Yeah, you fuckin' do."

"Thank you."

“Mhm.”

You can't see it, but you can hear it: the low clinking of a belt being unbuckled, the sound of a zipper being undone. Clinking metal and rustling denim being tampered with somewhere below your line of sight as he reaches down, almost like he— is he… oh.

Most of his body's obscured by the edge of the bed, but everything from the chest up is still visible. Simon's shoulder is bobbing slightly, arm pumping back and forth in a rhythmic motion and fuck, he's getting himself off to this.

That sends another spark of arousal to your core, makes you gush. It adds to the mess coating his jaw, his chin, his lips. You whimper out something – broken syllables – his name, maybe. You’re not entirely sure.

God, you’re almost there. So close. Wound up tight, hips rolling against his mouth, chasing his tongue—

Until he stops entirely. No contact. Simon pulls away in such a rush that you gasp, startled.

"Look at that." Accusatory.

It's a trail of liquor dribbling over the curve of your stomach, down your side in small rivulets. There are streaks pooling onto the sheets underneath you. Tragic.

(Couldn't help yourself, huh?)

Guilty as charged.

Shit.

"What'd I say – told you to hold still, yeah?"

And even though you had a feeling it would happen, you still have the nerve to act surprised at the result. "Fuck," you whine pathetically. "Was so close—"

"We're starting over. Don't care if it takes us all night, we're gonna keep at this 'til you get it right or you use up the rest of the whiskey," he says, readying himself to deposit another pour of alcohol into your navel. Simon lifts his shoulder in a light shrug like he can't be bothered about the final outcome. "Better pray that it works out before the bottle’s empty. Won't let you finish otherwise, sweetheart. Understand?"

#honestly i got so lazy towards the end but that is not my problem #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #ghost x reader #cod mw x reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw 2 #call of duty smuty #ghost cod

[cherrirui-official]

Friendlocke Violet Gijinkas (Part 1/7)

Since the edited episodes are starting to come out, I figured that bc of that and the fact that I've been keeping this in the back burner for a loooong while now, might as well complete all my friendlocke violet gijinkas!! Some are gonna stay the same while others are gonna have slight/ complete redesigns, so please keep that in mind!

I plan on posting them in order by groups of three, so there's gonna be seven parts in total, all of which I'll be linking here when done vvv

(Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five) (Part Six) (Part Seven)

!! These will contain personal headcanons I have for the cast, little fun facts, and also spoilers for Friendlocke Violet (for both the edited vids and the streams) !!

@saltydkart-reblogs

And that's pretty much it, designs under the cut!

LARK:

HUGE nerd. spent most of his time during the Uva Academy studying different kinds of pokemon as well as different fighting styles he can utilize once he is able to go out on his own journey with his very own trainer! Too bad that didn't really help in the long run...

His entire wardrobe consists of McDonald's related outfits. It's fucking insane. He even has some from long LONG ago that aren't available anywhere else.

The bubble pattern on his hair is able to move and change. Nobody knows how this is possible, not even Lark himself. All Lark knows is that his hair looks incredibly stylish!

Speaking of bubbles, he has the ability to blow bubbles whenever and wherever he pleases!

Often keeps himself extremely clean and gets upset if even a small speck of dirt gets on him, despite this he somehow smells like McDonald's food and axe body spray. Disgusting. He's so cool!

Even after death he still likes to hang around the other team members as a ghost, often getting to know the newer members as well as reuniting with the old ones. Sometimes they see him, sometimes they don't. It usually depends.

SARA:

Due to being a human in her past life, Sara is able to actually speak with the other humans in the pokemon world. However she usually doesn't due to it being seen as extremely weird and out of place. She did slip up once while talking in the presence of Arven, who thought it was the weed making him hear things.

Oinkologne are usually unable to do much with their hooves but Sara spent nights practicing how to knit with her new hooves and now she's able to do it flawlessly. I don't know how she managed to do that but go queen!

When first joining the team she'd often have the urge to eat her food related companions. It was a strange time for Sara, but she managed to overcome it.

When Peppy gets sick, she usually is the one who nurses him back to health. She was a human once so she often is able to figure out whatever sickness Peppy has and treat it properly. I suppose she's like a second mother to him.

The bag she carries with her is full of thread that she collected from various Tarountula she encountered on the journey, as well as little things she knits together in her spare time.

For the most part, Sara forgives... but NEVER forgets.

Did you guys know that Sara has a new YouTube channel? Check it out!

Pastey:

Before joining the team, Pastey was a nameless wanderer. He's been down every road in Paldea and knows almost the entire region (except for Area Zero) like the back of his hand.

He's gotten hurt pretty badly throughout the run (ie. the Mikey fight, the Atticus fight, and ESPECIALLY the final battle), however, he does not gain any (physical) scars from those fights. This is bc he's basically an axolotl, and axolotls are usually able to heal without scarring.

Pastey's "arms" are, to put it simply, mud prosthetics. More info here vvv

Pastey HAS met Mall Bingo once before the run, however, he doesn't recognize her. The only reason he does not recognize her is bc she wears glasses. (You know how people somehow aren't able to recognize Superman bc he wears glasses in his civilian attire even tho his face remains the same? It's basically like that lmao)

Unlike the lightbulbs he eats, the gasoline he drinks isn't really mandatory to his diet. Gasoline is like alcohol to him and he drinks it like an absolute CHAMP.

He goes fishing when there's nothing else to do or when he can't sleep at night. He doesn't do this bc he thinks it's fun or anything, only bc it's a "good time passer" or so he claims. Other members of the team will often sit with him and vent out anything that's troubling them at the moment, and Pastey is always there to listen to them.

And that's pretty much it. Next is Joe, Hannah Ü, and Mykyie!

#I am a firm believer that Sara can and will beat ass #No i do NOT plan on making gijinka designs for Chatbike and Phil sorry guys #just getting that out of the way i know how much yall love phil /j /lh #Anyways it feels so good to finally start on this like holy moly #also idk when the others will be done... HOWEVER... #The sketches for Joe Hannah and Mikey are already pretty much done I just gotta make em digital #so ideally they'll be out pretty soonish I'd say... I hope #but yeah if anyone has any questions abt them feel free to send them in my askbox and I'll be happy to answer them as best as i can! #<- No anons tho sorry yall #Also I need to be honest here Lark's outfit kinda does look atrocious and I couldve changed it... BUT... #I honestly thought it was WAY funnier if Lark's attire looked weird on purpose so I kept it like that lol #Anyways sorry for the word vomit here are the tags #friendlocke #friendlocke violet #saltydkdan #should my gijinkas have their own tag...? Sure why not #Violet Gijinka Au #cherris canvas

[uplatterme]

BARBATOS, The First.

MASTERLIST | MORAX | BEELZEBUL

cw: yandere!venti, sub!venti, dom!reader, they/them pronouns, unwanted advances, obsessive behavior, public sex, cock stepping, also a warning for yandere!venti’s overall behavior.

a/n: i had a taglist for this but i lost it LMAO

———

You’ve always noticed how different he acted towards you since the beginning.

The way he sits on your lap playfully, grinding himself without warning and when you ask him what he’s doing, he always pretends to be drunk although you were aware of his schemes.

Or when you’re wearing a skirt and somehow the Monstadt breeze always got stronger, your thighs or more accidentally showing even if you tried to pull it down.

And let’s not forget the time when he intentionally triggered his allergies so you could take care of him while he was “sick”. You didn’t doubt the fact that he was capable of taking care of himself.

You touch the rim of your glass, thinking about him. While it was definitely annoying, it sure did work and got your attention.

“That bard is quite strange, isn’t he?” You asked the bartender in front of you and he takes the empty glass from your hands to give you another fill.

“What’s strange is that he isn’t here chatting your ear off while you drink.” Diluc stated in annoyance. Archon knows how much the bard has actually ended up drunk under the table.

“Perhaps he hasn’t heard that I’ve come back to visit?” You questioned.

“He knows. If he says he doesn’t then he’s obviously lying. That bard knows more than you think.”

“Yet, he’s nowhere to be seen… How peculiar.”

“To think that we have a whole festival offering him flowers and yet he shows such indecent acts says a lot about our city.”

You stop before taking another sip of the alcohol in your hands. “What?”

The redhead stood in awe, realizing he’d made a mistake. “Forget what I said, I thought you knew.”

“Ragnvindr. Are you saying?”

He neither confirmed nor denied it.

You laughed at the new information. It was unbelievable, truly. “But, he’s so tiny? I could cup his face with my palms.”

“Get out. Don’t mention this to anyone.” He ordered.

“Excuse me?”

The next thing you knew, you were outside as Diluc closed earlier from the situation. Well, he was supposed to close earlier but with your pleading he served you a few glasses.

It did make sense, as strange as it sounded. Still, the idea of Venti being the Anemo Archon?

That and the fact that he’s obsessing with you made you want to go home and sleep.

Although, going home was never really an option for a traveler like you.

Should you really pester the Darknight Hero for a room?

You decided against it and went for a midnight stroll instead. There weren’t many hilichurls around due to the Honorary Knight getting rid of them for a quick bag of mora.

The stars were shining as you walked through the land of Mondstadt.

That still didn’t prepare you for the brightness that came along with the Anemo Archon appearing in front of you.

It looked like something out of a drama. A God staring down at a human as he fluttered his wings, creating strong breezes around the two of them.

Fuck. Was this really Venti?

The Anemo Archon presented himself in a form you haven’t seen before. Pure and white wings on his back, with a rather revealing outfit than his usual.

“Well, this is new.” You said.

He tightened his lips as he stared at you like you were his. “I’ve fallen for you, (Name). Why can’t you see that?”

A confession at this hour. One, which you did not appreciate either.

“I’m not looking for anything serious right now, so.” You scratch your head. Alice never wrote a book about rejecting Gods when they confess to you out of nowhere.

Barbatos floated towards you, clasping your hands together. “(Name). You don’t want another city to fall into ruins, do you?”

“Are you threatening me?”

You chuckled. “My, I’ve never thought Barbatos to be such a brat who rattles around if he doesn’t get what he wants.”

His wings quickly fluttered around.

“I’m not!” He yelled. “You don’t get it. Ever since I first saw you, I knew you were different from any other human I’ve met.”

You aggressively pulled him towards you by his braid. “I think you’re the one not understanding, Venti.”

“I’m not accepting a confession from someone who acts like a cheap whore. Surely, you can do better than that.” You scolded and it seemed to be working with how red his face got with each word that you tell him.

…

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

You pulled on his hair again, your faces centimeters away from each other. He presented himself to be intimidating when he came over here and yet all you see right now is a puny little god, one who grit his teeth and trying not to let an unwanted noise come out from his throat even if the white shorts he’s wearing is leaving nothing to the imagination, his cock twitching from your words.

“I’m not—” He fumbled over his words, he knew just how enamored he was but he didn’t expect it to this effect.

“It’s not like that…” The red on his cheeks deepened.

“Do you really need to travel to the other regions? Haven’t I made Monstadt the perfect home for you?!”

You never asked for any of those, you wanted to say.

“I’m even offering myself to you. Isn’t that enough?”

There are tears coming out of his eyes and you couldn’t understand whether these were actually his true feelings or he was trying to guilt you into accepting his confession.

Either way, it was working.

The Archon embraced you tightly, pressing his cock against you and humping your thigh like a desperate bitch needy for attention.

He’s sensitive.

Right, someone like him would have been void of this kind of intimacy.

You waited until Venti was flushing heavy, moans signaling that he was close to cumming on you.

Then, you stopped him.

“Ah—Wait!” He mewled pathetically from the ruined orgasm.

“You don’t do things unless I say so, alright?” You warned him, the whole shtick of grinding against you without permission was getting old.

“Lay on the ground, Barbatos.”

Venti hesitated, unsure of how exactly. Eventually, he rested his back on the ground with his hands crossed together. He stared up at you, opposite of how you two were at the beginning of this whole conversation.

If you told him you were a god born in a human’s body, he would believe it.

His back arched as he felt you step on his groin, your shoe aggressively putting pressure on his already sensitive cock.

“Haah–(Name)-” He breathed out.

His wings moved involuntarily while you continued stepping on him. Venti writhed on the ground, moaning your name repeatedly as if it were the only thing he could remember.

“Don’t close your thighs together.”

“C-cant…’m trying.” He complained.

“Hold them for me.”

Venti puts his hands on his knees, spreading his legs open just for you. His trembling fingers barely even did anything more than when they were on the ground.

“I like this outfit on you, should wear it more often to show off how much of a whore you are to your people.”

He wailed in response, drooling at your words.

“Do you like it, Venti? Do you like it when I degrade you less than dirt?” You asked.

He shook his head, muttering ‘no’ over his whimpering.

You pressed down harder and Venti choked on his breathing, coughing in embarrassment.

“You say that…but my shoe is getting cleaned from how soaked you are. Not to mention, your feathers are all over the place.”

“I’m c-close–(Name), please…want to-”

Venti moaned louder, he wasn’t even holding himself back even if he knew that the two of you were in public, that if anyone were to see how he looked now then they would be able to figure out that their dear Barbatos was the one creaming on the ground.

“Admit it first. Maybe, I’ll consider it.”

“Admit–what?”

You removed your shoe away from his cock and were immediately met with pleading. “No, no. Please, (Name),”

“Yes-yes. I like it when you talk to me that way. I like how you ignore me even if I’m bouncing up and down on your lap at Angel’s Share. I love how you treat me like I don’t mean anything to you.” Venti confessed.

“You’re sweet, Venti. You’re such a good boy for me.”

You placed your foot back on him moving around until he was helplessly sobbing from pleasure, cumming while screaming your name out as loud as he could.

Venti panted, his cock continuing to leak out even after he’s done with his orgasm.

You went on your knees, head still above his.

You caressed his wings which lay flat on the ground. “I like this one.”

“What–Hmpf!” He bit his lip in pain as you plucked out one of his feathers.

“I think I’ll keep it. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No–anything for you, of course.” He quickly answered.

“Then, let’s continue.”

Venti’s hole seemed prepared for you already. Still, you inserted two of your fingers inside him and felt his walls around. “Do you finger yourself, Venti? Do you think of me while you get yourself off?”

“Hh–yes.”

You inserted another finger in for his honesty, touching every part of his insides and avoiding his prostate, no matter if tried to plunge himself deeper for it.

“Close your eyes. Tell me exactly what you think.”

You removed your fingers while you listened to every detail he said out loud. “I imagine you placing me on my back and pounding me from how tired you are of me.”

You followed his directions, placing Venti on his back and pushing yourself in without warning. Venti gasped loudly, stopping his story momentarily until he realized that you weren’t going to move unless he continued.

“You pound me rough and deep, filling me up–as–ah!” He faced the ground, eyes still closed. He wouldn’t dare open them.

“You-you.” He tried to focus while feeling you all inside of him, how warm you are, how you hit his spots and how your hand is pushing his back down.

“You let me scream—hh—as l-loud as I can, how you’d love to parade me around like t-this to everyone, that my mouth could do better than tell tales.”

Venti continued to moan, gripping the grass on the ground and unable to hold himself from the pleasure.

“You say that the only time I should open my mouth is when I use it to please you.” He finished.

You grinned, this bard of yours sure let his imaginations run wild.

“And I bet you liked that, didn’t you?”

“Mhm—So, please don’t go anymore, (Name). You can have me a-all you want.” He said from underneath you.

You enveloped his dick in your hands. pushing him to his limit while his prostate was getting abused by your rough and quick movements.

Venti shivered flat on the ground as he came once more, saying your name over and over again.

“So?” The bard asked.

You entered Angel’s Share, desperately wanting a drink after you had ventured from Dragonspine for a quest. Diluc took a single look at you and grunted.

“Ragnvindr, the usual.”

He eyed your side and tutted his tongue.

“To think I was enjoying not seeing the two of you together and now he looks like he’s attached to your hip.” He elaborated.

Venti hugged your arm, snuggling on it as if it were a pillow. “Oh dear bartender, I think you’d find me attached to more than their hip!”

The redhead looked as if he wanted to throw the bard out right now. “I didn’t need to hear that.”

He tilted his head at you. “I’m putting his debt on your tab.”

“I can’t get rid of him, unfortunately, would cry his eyes out if I do.” You replied.

“(Name)? I’m here, you know!” He waved his hands in front of you and you continued to ignore him.

You hoped to yourself that claiming a god as your partner (of sorts) won’t go anywhere more difficult.

#sub venti #venti x reader #venti smut #dom!reader #sub genshin impact #dom reader #sub genshin #sub!venti #genshin impact smut #plattered writings #genshin impact x reader #yandere venti #yandere!venti

[yukuoo]

James Lee x fem!reader

James red hair era

𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂

"I'm convinced no one wants me." You huffed out, complaining to your friend for the 29383829294th time today. You've never had a boyfriend yeah, even when you moved from America to Korea no one has ONCE asked you out. Even if people asked you out in your home town, it was clear that they had bad intentions with you.

Its not the fact that they were shorter than you was the problem.. Well it sort of was but not really— but it was the look in their eye that made you uneasy.

"Uh-huh okay anyways did you hear James got another trophy?" Your friend completely dismissed your complaints which made you Huff. All this talk about James and who didn't even know who he was.

Sure your friend had pointed him out a few times, but his back was turned to you. So you never saw the face to the name. "Really? What type of trophy" you pouted slightly. James seemed like a popular guy, though you were certain that most of the people who tried to approach him wanted him for his fame around school only.

"Poetry!"

"Oh shit, isnt poetry hard?"

".. You know what else is hard—"

"Okay buddy I'm going to stop you right there."

Bidding each other your goodbyes, you made your way to your down the hall, unaware of the pair of eyes that trailed your figure. In just a second, someone tapped your shoulder making you turn around and look at the person responsible for making you acknowledge them.

"Hello there." A smirk appeared on the guys lips, yes he was fairly attractive. And by that he was VERY attractive. You couldn't help but think he was familiar.

"Hello...? Have I seen you around?" Just with that sentence it felt like James's confidence had been crushed. Like a piano fell on top of him. But he didn't mind, thats what he liked about you.

He knew you didn't like popularity or didn't really mind much of the other students, though the downside was that you didn't know him... He knew you were just slow actually.

Like. You were sort of stupid actually.

"James. My names James Lee." He introduced himself while walking closer to you, moving his lollipop to the other side of his mouth to talk to you clearer.

You stared at him for a bit, one second. Two seconds. Three seconds. Click!

"OHH YOU'RE— OHHHHH" it was amusing how it took you a bit to know who he was. A face to the name.

"Yeah."He pretended to wonder for a second soon saying your name. You nodded and smiled.

"Yeah! Whats up?"

"Oh nothing much, just wondering if I could use a bit of your time if you're not in a hurry." Of course you just freed yourself, so you complied with his request. His smile widened, not in a weird way but more so as in a pleased way.

"Sweet okay, I just have a question is all." He wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

"What's your type?"

Your brain short circuited.

There was no way THE James Lee had just asked you that. Of course, you barely payed attention to your friends stories of the guy. He has seemed interesting due to the amount of accomplishments he had done, he was the star student of the whole SCHOOL. Who wouldn't be shocked? Not only that, but he was fairly attractive.

If anything, you were a sore loser compared to him. You were just an average girl, an average social life, and hella shy. Plus you sucked in most of the sports you played that being volleyball and basketball.

So why would a genius like him be asking you this sort of question.

"Uhm... Well.." How were you supposed to tell him that you have NEVER been in a relationship without getting embarrassed.

"I guess someone who can put up with me...?" A chuckle left your lips, your answer sounding more like a question after responding with an unsure tone.

The silence James gave you made it even worse.

"I see." He muttered, the smirk never leaving his lips.

Now holding hands with James after a month you stared at the flowers in the ground.

"Did I just get asked out by James fucking Lee." Only did it take a month for you to actually register that you had been in a relationship with the most popular guy in school.

"Yeah."

"What the fuck."

Omg I posted this kinds of late but someone asked me if it was like another James story here and I had completely forgotten to post where I was inspired by for the story.

@spaceyflowerswriting! I didn't mean for it to look like their story, I was writing it during a school night rlly late so I'm so so sorry if it seemed like I had taken it😭

#james lee #lookism #james lee x reader #lookism x reader #reader is a loser

[starlightshadowsworld]

Heroes of Olympus but when Jason returns to Camp Jupiter, he's pissed.

He doesn't cower at the sight of his camp but stands taller. A steelness in his eyes no one at Camp Half Blood has ever seen before.

But one those in Camp Jupiter know all to well.

"Twelth Leigion Fulminata, stand at attention."

He doesn't even need to raise his voice as every single Roman demigod stops what their doing to look at him.

The only thing on their faces is fear.

"Oh would you look at that, you do know how to follow orders." Says Jason, strolling forward and.

Two centurions scramble to get a seat for him, Jason sits down nodding in thanks and dismissing them.

"Does anyone care to explain, just what the fuck has been going on here in my absence?"

Octavian raises a hand and Jason snorts.

"Augur, why am I not suprised? The floor is yours."

Octavian nods, a grin on his face and began to explain what had occurred.

All the while Jason listens, his expression giving nothing away. When Octavian finished, Jason sighed loudly and ran a hand through his hair.

"If there's one thing I can't tell you idiots off its for making my life boring. Your dismissed...actually one last thing Augur?"

Octavian paused, turning back around to face Jason. "Yes, sir?" Jason frowned "wipe that smug look off your face before I do it for you."

Octavian went pale, all traces off amusement gone from his face.

"Thank you. Your dismissed, get out of my sight." Octavian left without a second word.

"Jason"

"Praetor Ramirez-Arellano"

Reyna winced, and she wasn't the only one. Jason never called her by her title unless they were in the Senate.

He was hurt.

"Do tell me, has Augur Octavian missed anything in his explanation?" Reyna shook her head, for as pretentious as he was Octavian had spoken the truth.

Jason rose to his feet.

"Oh but he did, he neglected to mention that there were 3 Praetors standing before us. Now, unless the rules have changed their are only supposed to be 2."

Jason looked past Reyna, his gaze resting on Percy who waved awkwardly. "State your name."

Percy, feeling very much like he was intruding in on something answered him. "Percy Jackson."

Recognition flashed in Jason's gaze, and he softened momentarily. "Percy Jackson, son of Posideon? Formerly apart of this Camp?" He asked, gesturing to his orange Camp Half Blood top.

"Yup."

Jason nodded "apologises, Jackson. Your friends and I traveled here, you may wait in the Senate. I will release them to you momentarily." Percy grinned "thanks, erm... Sorry about all of this I really didn't know."

Jason held up a hand "that's quite alright, you are not at fault for this." Percy left and Jason's smile vanished.

"Tell me, when did the Senate allow for a new Praetor to be reinstated? And why someone so new? I'd get if it was due to an it emergency field promotion, but that wasn't the case."

He couldn't even look at her and it hurt.

"I thought you were dead, Jason.

Jason laughed, but there was no humour in it. It sent chills down everyone's spines.

"Really? Than please, show me the search parties, point me to the evidence you collected that bought you too such a conclusion. For that matter, where's my funeral pyre?"

Jason shook his head, anger and sadness in his eyes. "Don't bullshit me. You didn't think I was dead, you didn't even look. And frankly I don't think you cared too."

He looked Reyna in the eye. "You replaced me, with a Greek. I get shit for being named after a Greek hero, but none of you had a problem with this. You wanted to replace me, Reyna. I'm sorry it didn't work out for you."

He shook his head, turning his back on her.

"Jason, wait I-"

"We have several guests at our gate that we need to welcome. I've already had their weapons checked but you've proven how little you trust my authority so you might want to hurry up on that."

And with that he left to the Senate.

Jason swapped his outfit with Percy who apologised once again.

"Really man, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault. My Leigion had been trying to get rid of me since the day I showed up. Unfortunately for them, I'm more valuable alive than dead." Explains Jason, Percy frowned.

"Well, fuck em." He grinned when Jason laughed in suprise. "You are definitely something else, Jackson." Percy grinned wider "see you're learning fast. I think we'll be good friends you and I."

Jason raised an eyebrow "you sure? Most of my friends stab me in the back." Percy nodded, a sincerity in his eyes that made Jason almost believe he wouldn't.

It felt too good to be true.

"Well, I'll just have to prove you wrong." Percy put a hand out "Percy Jackson, son of Posideon and former Praetor." Jason shook his hand. "Jason Grace, son of Jupiter and current Praetor."

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

#long post #jason grace #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #reyna avila ramirez arellano #octavian pjo #... I don't think it's bashing if it's canon?

[rillils]

STEVE & BUCKY'S LOVE STORY, UNABRIDGED SOMEWHAT ABRIDGED, part 2/3 (here is part 1)

picking up from where we left off:

some 65 years into the future, steve's plane is fished out of the ice, and they find him, frozen like a sexy hot-dayum popsicle, but still alive thanks to the same super serum that made him go from Smol to Lorge.

steve is thus brought back into the world, but it's a world he no longer recognizes after all these years; a world where all the people he used to know and love are long dead, and his own face has been turned into a tool for propaganda over the years. obviously, he has a hard time adjusting, and he turns to fighting again, joining this group of kinda possibly superheroes, aka the avengers.

lots of exciting new things happen, sure; but steve is still pretty miserable. until one day, a mysterious masked assassin dressed in bondage gear (but not really), and sporting one very shiny metal arm (!!!!), is sent to kill steve's sort-of-boss. and then to kill steve himself. oh no!!

in what is possibly the most gripping, most visually pleasing hand-to-hand fight sequence in the history of cinema,

(NO BUT SERIOUSLY, all jokes aside, if you've never watched it then please do bc it's!!! *shrieks* so fucking good!!!)

a fight sequence which also happened to unlock both steve's and an entire fandom's competence kink with that little sexy knife-flipping trick alone -- i know you know what i'm talking about, don't you lie to me babes--

as i was saying, steve manages to knock the mask off of his opponent's face. and who do you think appears before him? can you guess??

DING DING DING!!! EXACTLY!!! IT'S HIS LONG-LOST BAE BUCKY! who apparently doesn't recognize him??

confused and upset, steve fights to uncover the truth. turns out, the man is indeed the very same bucky he grew up with and loved. only, he didn't actually die in that tragic fall in the ravine; rather, due to the experiments performed on him while he was a war prisoner, he survived long enough to be found and captured by the enemy. who then proceeded to torture and brainwash him, using him as a tool for murder against his will, and literally putting him back in the freezer when they didn't need him.

which, as it happens, is how he stayed so young in the first place: he, uh, spent the better part of 70 years frozen. yeaaah, are the parallels paralleling or what, hmmmm?? preserved in ice like your mom's best lasagna from last week? plunging to a 'death' that isn't really a death? waking up in the future kinda screwed over? :D

ANYWAY

steve is even more devastated than before, now that he's learned that while he was asleep in the ocean, bucky was out there suffering. when he finally confronts bucky again (and it's fucking epic and also fucking heartbreaking, believe you me) steve is desperate to bring bucky, his bucky, back. knowing in his heart that his bae is still somewhere in there, no matter how deeply buried.

in the most critical moment(TM), steve chooses to stay behind, on a plane that's about to fucking blow up around them - just like bucky did for him all those years ago - because if he can't save bucky, then he'd rather die with him.

only, bucky is scared and confused af at the moment, and he attacks steve, because 1) he has a mission after all, he's supposed to kill this guy dammit, and 2) wtf is even going on here??? who IS this man, WHY does he keep saying that they've known each other their whole lives?? and WHY does bucky feel like he's actually seen him somewhere else before?????

AND HERE IS THE PIVOTAL MOMENT OF ALL PIVOTAL MOMENTS: for the first time in his life, steve refuses to fight back. like he literally drops his shield out of the plane and into the river underneath, in a very powerful and symbolic gesture, signifying his surrender: he's not going to hurt bucky anymore, no matter what. THIS FUCKER LITERALLY LETS BUCKY BEAT HIM TO A PULP, WITHOUT EVEN TRYING TO DEFEND HIMSELF, 100% ready to let bucky kill him if that's what's gonna happen here, because that's still better than living in a world where bucky's gone - a world where bucky will look at him and only see a target, or a stranger at best.

and then!!!!

no this is like, this is THE most romantic shit, okay, like you could try to convince me that it isn't for the next hundred years and i wouldn't buy it, because. BECAUSE.

at the very last moment, steve finally manages to break through bucky's brainwashing, breaking the metaphorical spell bucky was under. and do you know how he does that? i ask you, do you know how steve does that, my love?

by repeating to bucky the very same words bucky offered him way back in the beginning, when he proposed asked steve to move in together. till death do us part the end of the line, baby. romeo could NEVER

bucky, who was about to deal the fatal blow, freezes instantly, finally recognizing the man under him.

and when steve falls out of the plane, bucky jumps after him, instinctively saving his life instead.

but bucky can't stay. confused, wounded, vulnerable, and only just beginning to remember who he used to be and what was done to him, he slips away and hides from steve - and from all the other people who might be looking for him, and probably want him dead. you think this is gonna stop steve, though?? now that he knows that bucky is still alive, and that he remembers him??? now that he knows that bucky's not lost to him forever?? AS IF!!

(to be continued in part 3)

#stucky #stevebucky #i have literally no idea how to tag this but??????? #the silly stucky recap you didn't ask for #part 2 :D #catws #rillers scribbles

[i-cant-sing]

YRG pt 7

 

“Is it- true?” One servant asked. The knight raised a brow, as he fixed his armor. “What?”

“That she’s alive? The princess? Why the king is gathering his army?”

The knight shrugged. “Does it matter? We obey the king. He tells me to sharpen my sword, I do. He tells me to clean the horse shit off his horse’s ass, I do.  He tells me to go to war with an enemy in a place no one knows? I don’t ask questions, I just fucking do. Or else he burns me to crisp. So I suggest you do the same, Berta.” The knight spat as he began polishing his sword, the servant leaving to join the rest of the busy workers, all running around the castle after Dabi had ordered that they were going to war. They didn’t know who or where they were going to war, and they didn’t dare ask the king, well aware of his temper. But they’d figured out this was supposed to be a rescue mission for you after they’d seen concubine Keigo finally sober up after weeks (if not months since your disappearance. Dabi forbade the word “died”) and he surprised them a little when he prepared (and he actually was good at it).

“Is the cavalry ready?” Dabi asked Shotou, who nodded. “Yes, as are the ships prepared to carry them. Well equipped and with enough space for everyone.” Dabi hummed in acknowledgement, before looking over the maps again, trying to figure out where exactly is AFO’s kingdom. The last time he went there was years ago when your mother was still alive. And at that time, he remembers going through land, but he cant find that route anymore, probably due to some quirk AFO used to hide his kingdom. “Did the spies find out where this mysterious island is?” Shotou shook his head. “Havent heard from them yet. They’re still at Emperor Kai’s castle, I should think that Kai isn’t announcing the whereabouts out loud. He’s not stupid.” Dabi shot him a glare. He knows Kai, knows he has spies there, all kings have spies in their homes. “Sure, but he is stupid enough to not come to me the instant that traitorous rat came to him.” Shotou was well aware of who he was referring to- your servant Tomura. “Well, then you know that if  the emperor is aware that you know that he’s also preparing for war with AFO,  then he must have a good reason for not telling you.”

“Yeah? What could possibly be a good reason to tell me that my daughter, my only child is alive?” Dabi was not in the mood to be accepting any excuses. “Don’t speak for others Shotou.”

The younger brother didn’t press further. “I still want to come along, help you find Y/n.”

Dabi shook his head. “I know you do, but you’re more helpful to me here. I cant trust anyone else with the kingdom while I’m away.” Shotou would bring up that their father, Enji, could help with overseeing kingdom affairs in their absence, but Dabi is already on edge as it is and… well Shotou’s not stupid.

“You’ll find her.” Shotou patted Dabi’s shoulder.

“I know.”

“Don’t be mad at her.”

A soft smile formed on his lips. “I’m not.”

At this point, all the man wanted was to wrap his arms around you and never let go.

 

The emperor had already reached the port. Kai remained on his horse as he watched his men board the remaining stuff on the ships, Hari by his side who made sure everyone was doing their job. Though Hari couldn’t help but let his eyes wander to Tomura who stood to the side, face expressionless, which annoyed Hari because he couldn’t read him.

How could he just stand there as if he hadn’t made the grave mistake of losing you, the emperor’s most important treasure?

Hari was well aware of Kai’s favoritism towards you, and anyone who really knew Kai would easily see why. Your innocence, naivety, everything- it reminded him of the emperor’s late daughter. Though Kai only came to know of her value when she was no longer in this world, Hari knew how much it pained him. The emperor may be good at covering his feelings, but Hari, his confidant knew- and saw what the emperor had gone through when he had lost his young one. That’s why Kai had been working day and night to find you.

That’s why Hari couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t just kill Tomura, the man who was responsible to bring you to the empire as promised.

But as much as he wanted Kai to reconsider killing the traitor, he knew better than to question his emperor.

With everything now loaded onto the ship, it was time for Kai to board it, only to halt when he heard the sound of horses galloping in distance.

Turning around, he saw black flags with blue flames-

“King Dabi.” Hari said, and Kai gave him a nod and Hari looked back at the soldiers, calling them to take position.

“Be alert! Protect the emperor!” The army took their position, pulling their weapons out, ready for a massacre.

Kai never broke contact as Dabi’s knights neared, neither did his neutral face expression change when he spotted Dabi looking furious on his mighty dark horse.

When Dabi and his men reached them, the silence from both sides were deafening. The rulers locking eyes with each other as soldiers on both sides could feel their hearts beating loudly.

Kai didn’t break a sweat as Dabi glared at him. Why should he when Kai isn’t doing anything wrong?

“Going somewhere?” Dabi sneered.

Kai gave a nod. “I am.”

“Where?”Dabi asked, the smile dropping.

Kai remained silent. It was clear that Dabi was aware of his secret rescue mission. All that remains now is whether Kai should lie and possibly cause a war right here, right now, or tell him the truth and cause a war right here, right now.

“To AFO’s kingdom. I’m going to rescue princess Y/n.”

It was so terrifyingly quite, that not even sounds of nature could be heard. As if the birds and the bugs, the leaves and bushes, they were all holding their breath in anticipation.

“Oh? So you’ve known where my daughter is all this time?” Dabi pulled out his sword, as did his men. “And you decided to keep this information from me?”

Kai held up a gloved hand, signalling his men to hold, to not attack. “The information is news to me as well. Princess Y/n’s royal servant Tomura came to me a few days back and told me about her whereabouts. I only didn’t tell you because I am not sure if this information is true as well.”

Dabi’s glare shifted from Kai to Tomura. “Why should I believe you when that traitor still has his head?”

“Tomura hasn’t been killed because he’s the only one who knows where the princess is. With him dead, the chances of ever finding her slim to none. He came to me instead of you because you would’ve killed him the moment he set foot in your kingdom.” Kai explained, watching Dabi’s eyes full of distrust shift between him and the servant. But with distrust, there was also doubt.

What if Kai is telling the truth?

The seed of doubt had been planted, and now was Kai’s turn to change the narrative.

With his hand pointing towards the ships, Kai spoke. “You’re welcome to join us, King Dabi. We certainly have enough space for you and your men. The more, the merrier.”

Dabi stared at him for a few seconds before snapping his fingers and his men began retreating. “No need, we have our own ships. You may give us the servant so he can lead the way.” With Kai’s orders, his men also began retreating as the emperor got off his horse to speak privately with Dabi, who had also gotten off his horse.

“That is a reasonable request, but I must deny it. You see, I cant risk you chopping off the head of the one person who knows where this mysterious kingdom is. You can follow us.” Kai said with a small smile.

“Follow you? The man who hid knowledge of my daughter’s existence? Every single fiber in my body is screaming at me to kill you and that traitorous bastard!”

“But Y/n-“

Dabi cut him off. “You think you care more about Y/n than her own father?”

Kai shrugged. “I said no such thing. But if these past months have been clear proof that you’re making actions based on your feelings, and right now, that is not the best strategy to save Y/n. I know you think I have ulterior motives, and if I were you, I wouldn’t believe a word coming out of my mouth. But we have to put our differences aside, Dabi. Don’t be so distrusting of the man you would send your daughter to for training. Besides-” The emperor’s smile dropped. “-everyone knows about your strained relationship with Y/n. I’ve heard the last spat between you two was… very damaging. And for who?” 

Who- referring to the little feathery whore Keigo.

“Careful, Kai. I can still bury your empire right here, right now.” Dabi threatened.

Kai didn’t waver. “You could try, but now is not the time to be blinded with your emotions.” He turned around, but casted a glance back. “And lets not kid ourselves, Dabi. You and I both know my men can harm you just as much. But Y/n wont benefit from unnecessary bloodshed.”

Dabi grit his teeth as he watched Kai return to his ship. The emperor puts on his gilded beak mask on.

If Dabi ever thought it was okay to prefer a concubine over his own daughter, then maybe I do care for Y/n more than her own father.

-

Soon enough, Dabi and his men, accompanied by allies like Bakugo and the barbarians, and Empresses Momo and her army set sail, following closely behind Kai’s ships.

Dabi stood on the starboard of the ship, gazing downwards at the water. His mind is occupied by multiple things- you, AFO, Kai’s intentions with you, the supposed “allies”, military strategies, but mostly you.

Are you well? Are you hurt? Do you miss him? Are you still mad at him-

“Dabi?” Keigo called, coming beside him. “What are you doing here? Come inside and eat.” Dabi didn’t move, and Keigo could see that his mind was elsewhere.

Wrapping his arms around Dabi, he kissed his ear. “We’ll find her, Dabi.” Keigo whispered. “We’ll find her and we’ll bring her home and then we will have a huge celebration and everything will be alright again.”

“None of this would’ve happened if I didn’t yell at her.”

Keigo looked at Dabi and he could see the guilt swimming in his eyes. “If I just hadn’t- made her angry, let her go- she would’ve been safe.” He paused. “What happened to us? She- she used to love me, was a proper daddy’s girl, Kei. Her eyes would lit up whenever she saw me and I would pick her up and waltz. She would tell me about her day, ramble on and repeat everything twice. But now… she won’t even speak to me more than a few words- those too out of courtesy and respect for the crown. Not me. She loathes me- I can feel it. And it fucking hurts because I know I’m the one who created this distance between us.”

“Dabi-”

“I put my only child in harm, Keigo. This is all on me.” He confessed remorsefully.

The two of them remained silent, the ocean air blowing through their hair.

Until Keigo dug his nails into Dabi’s arms. “Then you will find her.”

“Kei-“

“No.” Keigo pursed his lips. “No- I refuse to let you- you must find her Dabi, more so now. You must- you must and make amends with her. All is not lost. We can- you can still have everything. Y/n- she needs us right now, and when we find her, she will need you and she will love you more, and she will think the world of you. So get it- collect yourself. Be at one with yourself and find Y/n. I don’t care who you have to hurt, what you have to kill, burn the whole fucking world as long as you bring Y/n home.” He looked at Dabi, the king who’s pupils had dilated. “You understand? Fucking promise me Dabi-!” Keigo spat but was cut off as Dabi crashed his lips against his, Dabi’s heart swelling with love at hearing how much Keigo adored you.

“I promise you.”

 

“Position the cavalry here, and make sure the archers are present here. Make sure that there are soldiers surrounding the parameters of the island. The enemies could attack from any side.” AFO ordered his generals as he discussed military strategies. With Tomura escaping, AFO knew that he would be leading Dabi right to the island. But AFO was not worried. Not at all. He was prepared, and even if Dabi brought a couple of allies, they wouldn’t be able to defeat his army of Nomus.

What he was worried about was, well, you. Ever since your failed escape attempt, you’d been crying and refusing to eat anything at all. Your hunger strike is doing nothing but harm your own health.

And now that he sees a servant that was sent to your room with food return with a distressed look, AFO sighed. “She didn’t eat, did she?” The servant bowed before replying, “No, my King. The princess- she refuses to eat lunch. And the dinner sent to her last night, it also remains untouched.” AFO closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. How much longer will you keep this up? He cant focus on the war when all he can stress about is if you’ve eaten or not?

Sensing the distress of the ruler, Kurogiri stepped up to help. “My King, if you allow, may I handle this matter?”

AFO knows you’re not… exactly fond of him or Kurogiri at the moment but… what else can he do now?

He nodded.

Its worth a shot.

 

The Nomu watched in silence as you laid on the floor, tear streaks now dried on your cheeks, hair unkempt and greasy, complexion sickly pale, disheveled appearance over all. A chain around your ankle, long enough for you to move around the room, yet you continue to lie on the floor, mostly because you just don’t have the energy to get up. The lack of nutrients and dehydration, it was starting to take a toll on you, not only physically but mentally as well. How do you know?

Well, for starters, you could see your dead mother standing in the corner.

“Y/n?” She called out. You blinked.

She was right next to you, on her knees, a very concerned look on her face.

“Mama?”

“Oh baby, what have you done to yourself?” She whispered, blowing cold air on your sweaty forehead.

“Mama?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t leave me.”

“I cant stay for long, Y/n but-” She smiled sadly. “-I’m here now.”

You smiled back at her, even though you knew she wasn’t real, you still believed for a moment that she was.

“Y/n.”

“Yes, mama?”

“Have you been taking care of dad?”

“Mine? No. Yours? Also no.” You mumbled. “Dad and I fought, we always fight it seems. And grandpa? I- well- I’m mad at him. He kept me here, created more misunderstandings between me and dad and now wants to kill dad for revenge and apparently for “my sake” too.”

She brushed your hair with her fingers. “Seems like you’ve been busy.” She booped your nose. “Still, you’re the only one who can fix it all.”

“How?”

“You’ll figure it out. But the war mustn’t happen, Y/n.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“Well I am a figment of your imagination, aren’t I?” She chuckled. You smiled as well. You missed her laugh. Its so delicate.

“I have to go now, baby.” She whispered, a cold kiss pressed to your cheek.

“Mama?”

“Hm?”

“I miss you.”

“I know, honey.” She pointed at the door. “You have company, darling.”

Just then, the door slammed open and your pupils widened at the sight of him.

“Y/N!”

Dabi.

“Dad?”

He rushed towards you, eyes wild as he took in your form. “Oh my- are you hurt?! What did he do?!” He asked checking you over for injuries. You looked so weak, as if the air itself was harsh enough to hurt you.

“You’re here.” You whispered. Dabi’s eyes softened, as he nodded. “I am. And I’m sorry that it took so long. But I’m here now, and I’ll get you out of here. Can you stand?”

With tears of relief in your eye, you shook your head. “I- I cant. Too tired.” Dabi nodded again before pulling out his water container, supporting your head as he helped you hydrate. “Better?” You hummed, smiling at him weakly as he laid your head in his lap. You missed him.

“I have an energy cube- this.” He pulled out a small blue cube. “It should give you enough energy to walk. I’d carry you, but I cant use my quirk without hurting you.” He pushed the cube towards your lips. You turned your head away. “It stinks. Like shrimp.”

He chuckled. “So? Come on, eat it. Then we can get out of here.” You stared at him, brows knitting together.

“Are you still mad at me?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Dabi smiled sadly. “I never was, Y/n. I never truly could be. You- you’re a part of me-” “-and mom.” “-and your mom. You’re my daughter, my pride and joy, my most treasure jewel. You’re the most precious to me, Y/n.”

“I-.” You smiled sadly, nuzzling into him. “- can I ask you something? If you allow-“Always.”

“Did you- did you visit her? Mom?” You asked softly. “I know- you don’t like her, nor do you believe in talking to the dead but… I just wanted to know if you visited the royal cemetery behind my back? The caretakers sometimes forget to clean her tomb.”

Dabi looked into your hopeful eyes, his blue orbs just taking in your appearance. “I did.” He answered. “I talked to her, well I mostly confessed, begged her and god to help me find you. Don’t worry though, the caretakers looked well after the cemetery.” He brought the energy cube to your lips again. “Now, eat this so that we can get out-”He was cut off by you smacking the cube out of his hand and laughing dryly at him.

“Do you take me for a fool?”

Dabi’s brows furrowed. “Y/n-”

“Princess Y/n. How dare you talk to me like we’re equals?!” He shook his head, his hand coming to cup your cheek but you pushed yourself away from him, practically throwing yourself away.

“How dare you try to touch me?!” You shrieked. “HOW DARE YOU PRETEND TO BE A KING, YOU IMPOSTOR?! SHIFT BACK NOW! SHIFT OR I SWEAR TO GOD, I WILL DECAPITATE YOU MYSELF!! SHIFT!” The door opened and Kurogiri walked in. He nodded at Dabi.

“You can leave now, Himiko.” The impostor shifted back to a blonde girl. You remember seeing the servant before, when she helped Tomura with ironing your clothes. Kurogiri kneeled in front of you, looking at you with a slightly unamused look you imagine. “How’d you know?” How? How are you to explain that you know your father well enough to know that he would never visit your mother? How do you explain that he hated her so much that he didn’t even think she deserved to be buried in the royal cemetery, but rather in an unguarded, unmarked grave without anyone but you and Tomura to care for?

You laughed dryly at him. “What? You didn’t think I wouldn’t recognize my own father?” Kurogiri shrugged “You haven’t been showing many signs of intelligence; escaping, defending your father, going on a useless hunger strike are just a few examples.”

“Its pissing you off. I’d say they were pretty intelligent decisions.”

“All you’re doing is worrying your grandfather. He can’t focus on the war because he’s concerned about you.”

“Good. I don’t want the war to happen.”

“The war is going to happen, King AFO will win and your father will die-“ “No-” “Yes. And deep down, you know your he deserves to die. You know that it’d better for you to stay here, because you will never be a priority to him, just like your mother never was.”

“Dad didn’t kill her-”

“Perhaps not. But he never loved her, he humiliated her and you publicly when he started sleeping with that concubine. He made your mother unhappy, he kept you in the dark about your maternal grandfather, refused to let him contact you- his only grandchild, his only heir to this kingdom, his- his daughter’s only reminder. Are these not crimes but punishable by death? King Dabi may have not directly killed your mother but he was an accomplice to the murder, he never believed, let alone punish his concubine. He didn’t even believe you, his own daughter, his blood and flesh! What father would allow a murderer around his own child? He does not care about you, never has and never will!” Kurogiri told you. “This war? He’s not fighting it to save you, he’s fighting it to hurt King AFO! You mean nothing to him!’

“No!” Tears escaped your eyes. “You don’t know anything! But I’m telling you to stop this war. If you don’t- countless lives will be lost! Innocent people will die!”

“The people are prepared to die. Not that they will, your dear grandfather is very strong. You shouldn’t underestimate him. He will defeat King Dabi, and he will avenge your mother.” He pulled out another energy cube, placing it on your bed. “Eat it or not, I’m going to tell your grandfather that you’re well. I won’t let your stubbornness distract him.” He turned to leave, halting at your voice.

“Kurogiri, please. This war… it cant happen.”

He looked over his shoulder. “Your father has been begging for a war for a long time. Its about time he pays for the consequences, princess.” He said before leaving.

One of the knights rushed into AFO’s busy court, just as Kurogiri returned. AFO of course looked at Kurogiri first, the latter’s calm demeanor assured the king that he had taken care of the errand he was given. Then he looked at the knight who was trying to catch his breath.

“A-apologies for running in unannounced, my king! But they’re here!” He took a large gulp of breath in to compose himself.

“King Dabi is here!”

The court went silent as they looked to their king, awaiting his panic for Dabi had reached earlier than expected. But AFO remained collected, nodding his head as he turned to address his court.

“Prepare yourself. Alert the people about this as well, so that they may take necessary measures.” He started giving out orders to his generals, pausing to tell Kurogiri to release the several Nomus that are under his control.

“They won’t hurt my subjects, assure the people of that will you?” Kurogiri bowed his head before teleporting to carry out his orders.

By the time he returned, AFO sat alone on his throne, wearing his armor. Kurogiri walked closer to him, and couldn’t help but notice a certain amount of sadness in his eyes.

“Your majesty?” He called out, but AFO didn’t look up at him.

“Y/n reminds me so much of her.” Ah, the late queen. “From the way she looks, to her having the same mannerisms, the same affection for animals-” AFO chuckled. “-they even have the same furrow in their brows when their mad. Y/n… she’s just like her isn’t she?” Kurogiri agreed, because he thought so too. In fact, if it weren’t for your painfully annoying naivety, your rebelliousness, your incessant need to defend Dabi and your urge to make everything unnecessarily difficult for your grandfather, he’d say you were your mother reincarnated.

“I wanted to see her, talk to her one last time before leaving, just to assure her that I’d win, that she need not to worry her head over this matter because I’d take care of everything. Because I’d protect her. But-“ AFO paused, as if the words got caught in his throat. “-I couldn’t. I couldn’t because she’d beg me not to. She’d cry and cry and I just cant- I cant go to war with the sight of her like this Kurogiri. She used to cry like that for him too; my daughter- and now Y/n. They were always blinded by their pure hearted nature, always loved that bastard too much to see that he does not care about them.” Kurogiri will never forget the day your mother had died. King AFO, he was absolutely crushed. He had never seen him like this, the look of utter despair, utter defeat, as if someone had dethroned the king and cut off his limbs with an axe and left him to be feasted on by vultures. The king loved his daughter very much. She was the apple of his eye, his light, his only heir. He never wanted her to marry Dabi, but when she claimed that she had fallen in love with him, he couldn’t help but give in. He would’ve given her the world if she’d asked, but just a few months into the marriage and AFO sensed that he may have made a grave mistake. He gave her several opportunities to escape that marriage, to help her leave that ungrateful bastard, but despite everything, your mother just smiled and continued to claim that she loved Dabi until her last breath. AFO doesn’t know for sure if your mom really loved Dabi as much as she claimed to, especially after concubine Keigo came into the picture. He thinks that you may have been the main reason why she stayed in that unhappy marriage. Perhaps she thought that by birthing Dabi a heir, she might get the love and respect she deserves. But Dabi… he didn’t get rid of Keigo, or even tried to hide his affairs, not even for your sake. You were a child, a product of a broken marriage. AFO wasn’t sure how he felt about you initially, mostly because he thought you’d tied her daughter down in this nightmare of a marriage. But the first time and the only time your mother brought you over to her homeland, AFO (as well as others) were immediately enamored by you. You looked like your mother when she was an infant. When he first held you in his arms, he knew instantly that he was wrapped around your tiny finger for the rest of his life. He swore to himself and to your mother that he would protect you for eternity. But then, Dabi had the audacity to forbid you from visiting AFO, and a few years later, he banned AFO from ever visiting his kingdom, effectively cutting his contact with you, his only grandchild.

That should’ve been enough reason for AFO to start a war with him, but your mother managed to convince him otherwise, promising that she’ll talk to Dabi about this matter.

Later that year, your mother was killed.

And AFO never truly recovered from that loss. What father could?

“This war, she thinks isn’t necessary. She thinks I’m some monster who has it out for her dear father. But she’ll never accept it that Dabi- he isn’t participating in this war to save her. He’s coming because he wants to hurt me. He wants to take her away from me and rub it in my face that she will face the same fate as my daughter did. He wants to take her away so that he can tell me that I failed to protect them both.” He finally looked at him. “I won’t make the same mistake again, Kurogiro. I wont.” AFO stood up from his gilded throne. “I will kill Dabi today, and I will win this war. Your job is to protect princess Y/n. Teleport her to safety if need be.” Kurogiri bowed his head, as AFO continue. “And if things go south due to some unforeseen circumstances, I want you to prioritize Y/n’s life over mine.”

Kurogir’s eyes widened. “Your Majesty, that won’t be-“

“I know, but still. I want you to promise me, Kurogiri. Her life over mine. Prioritize Y/n over me.”

Kurogiri bowed, placing a hand over his heart.

“I promise, my king.”

 

AFO watched the shore from a distance, his army in position with him. His main order was to distance the enemy away from the castle where you were trapped in, guarded by a Nomu, some knights and Kurogiri.

“They’re near, my king.” One of the generals said, watching through his binoculars. “I count about 300 ships, about 200 baring King Dabi’s flag, 70 belonging to the imperial house of Yaoryuzu, while 30 belong to some barbarians.”

AFO didn’t respond for a few moments, simply staring ahead, before his lips quirked ever so slightly. “There’s more. Look again.” He said. The general was confused but he looked again, now with a few soldiers also searching the waters, tilting their heads a little and that’s when they saw it.

Like a mirage in the desert, when the heat starts to play tricks on your eyes, the wind dancing around to create an illusion, they were able to make out the faintest silhouette of very large fleet. It was as if there was a curtain, produced by nature to hide the enemy.

But AFO knew better. It was no natural phenomenon, but actually an invisibility quirk.

Tomura had mentioned about an emperor who was going to take you in before you came here. Perhaps, its him.

Its time to put an end to all of this.

 AFO began giving out orders. “Prepare the canons! Archers, take position! Sakura regiment and Ume regiment, take formation A and charge forwards at command!” The soldiers took their respective positions, holding their breaths as they awaited the king’s next command. AFO wanted to attack first, end the war before it could really begin.

AFO counted down as Dabi’s ships came closer.

5.

4.

3.

2.

I love you, Y/n.

1.

“FIRE!” The canons blasted, followed by- “DRAW!” The arrows flew, but neither the cannonballs nor the arrows ever hit the enemy because they all disintegrated in the sky high fire wall surrounding the entire perimeter of the island.

“What the…” The soldiers, and even AFO was momentarily shocked, and the enemy used that element of surprise to strike. One second the boundaries of the island were surrounded by hellish blue flames, and in the next, thousands of men suddenly lunged through the fire, completely unharmed and charged towards AFO’s army from all directions. On his left, he saw loud explosives going off in the sky, and he immediately spotted the brash blonde roaring as his hands fired blasts after blasts.

Must be a barbarian.

He heard another loud crash behind him, and there he spotted a massive army comprising mainly of female warriors, who were being led by a fierce woman wearing red and gold armor, indicating that she belonged from the imperial house of Yaoryuzu.

And then he heard the screams.

Whipping his head back to the front, he saw the villager’s house up in blue flames, Dabi appearing through the smoke, a manic grin on his face as he locks eyes with him.

Of course, leave it to Dabi to attack the women and children first. He’s a heartless bastard.

With a wave of his hand, heavy clouds appeared over the burning houses and poured rain. AFO’s face remained neutral as Dabi began inching his way closer to him, slaughtering anyone and everyone that stood in his way, even his own men. AFO stared at him dead in the eyes before smiling suddenly because right in the next moment, a Nomu flew and jumped right onto Dabi.

Guess he’ll have to wait for a bit until he can kill Dabi.

Although Katsuki and Momo were tearing through the crowds, swinging their swords and killing enemies easily, and had this been any other war, they might've even enjoyed it. But right now, all they could think about was finding you, both parties have the same motive but neither will attempt to work together to find you quicker. No, not when they wanted to play your "Knight in shining armour", because clearly, whoever saves the princess gets the favour of king Dabi and the love of princess Y/n. Clearly, when they find you, you will throw yourself at them and practically beg them to marry you.

Somehow they had found their way to the high towers where you were locked in, individually taking the opposite routes and hoping the other one dies before they reach you. They killed all the knights and the devoted servants that blocked their way until they stood at the opposite ends of the hallway, bloodied and staring at each other. Words did not need to be shared for the threat to heard-

Back off.

Of course, neither one would. Not when they're this close to making you theirs forever. The two charged at each other, swords drawn and quirks going off, all while neither one of them knew that Kurogiri had already teleported you to the secret passageways underground the moment he saw them coming for the hightower, and now all that was waiting for them in that room up there was the Nomu assigned to protect you.

So, whoever wins Bakugo VS Yaoryuzu battle will have to die at the hands of the Nomu.

Kurogiri almost wished he could watch it all unfold with AFO.

But no, he has to carry you to safety- he promised his king. He paid no mind to you sluring out threats as you went in and out of consciousness, clearly still persistent on starving yourself.

"I'd kill you... my dad- d-dad will kill you and the the- villagers-" you mumbled, eyes closed as your cheek rested against his chest, the man carrying you in his arms.

"Yeah? And then what?" He hummed.

"He'll kill- kill everyone and- and burn thi-s place to- to the the ground and it'll be-" you choked on a sob "-it'll be all my fault!"

"Well, you don't need to worry about that. Your grandfather is a skilled fighter, he will easily decapitate Dabi. Have some faith!" He cheered while you whined into his shoulder. "Now, now, princesses don't whine. I must say, I am excited for your princess training when the war is over. I'll personally see to it that you learn all the manners and ethics of royalty, your father didn't do a good job at finding you a good teacher."

"The late queen appointed me as her teacher, personally. You would be wise not to say anything about the princess's training lest you want a painful death, Kurogiri."

You both looked behind at the source of the voice, opposite emotions coursing through you both as you caught sight of him-

Tomura Shigaraki.

"Tomu~" you whispered, getting teary eyed as you looked at the once gentle eyed, lanky armed, always presentable, invisible servant to now a far more bulked up warrior with his hair unkempt and his eyes wild yet clear.

Kurogiri didn't waste another second as he opened the warp gate and teleported you out of there, Tomura calmly promising you that he'll find you soon. While it would've been easy for Kurogiri to escape along with you, he preferred to deal with Tomura now and be done with it.

Tomura charged at the man, and Kurogiri had his sword drawn out, teleporting just when the former neared. The shadowed man appeared around him and sliced the skin on his arm.

"So weak, its pathetic. How you were allowed to be near the princess is beyond me." Kurogiri said, dodging the swing of Tomura's blade, before kicking him in the stomach, making the latter cough blood. "You were never strong enough to be the princess's guard, or a servant. But I always did think that you'd be smart-" Tomura grunted before quickly jumping and stabbing the sword into Kurogiri's abdomen, but the taller man remain unfazed. "-Guess not." Kurogiri said, before swallowing the sword into his body, warping it to an unknown destination, Tomura's eyes going wide as his hand started to get warped too, but then... he smiled. A sinister grin stretched on Tomura's face as he spoke.

"And your biggest mistake Kurogiri is that you underestimate me." He said before grabbing Kurogiri's neck brace with both hands and disintegrating it until he reached his neck, destroying it too.

Kurogiri was now a pile of ashes at Tomura's feet.

What a waste... of my time.

Tomura thought before he began looking for you again.

On the other side of island, right in the middle, Dabi had just spent the last hour fighting the Nomu that was cannon balled on him. He finally defeated the monstrosity, and it had taken a slight toll on his body. And since AFO saw the battle, he was more than happy to send a couple more his way.

While Dabi began fighting those brainwashed giants again, AFO's mind was still preoccupied by the enemy fleets that were hiding behind an invisibility quirk. They were still nowhere to be seen, and AFO could sense they were plotting something.

AFO looked towards his castle, thinking whether he should call Kurogiri and deal with this hidden enemy and also check up on you, but decided against it because he did not want anyone to know where you were.

He looked back towards Dabi, to see if he'd been crushed to death or not, but instead found him hovering up in the sky, body ablaze and his eyes staring right back at him.

And then... he flicked his wrist.

In just a few seconds, the entire island was covered in smoke. It was dark and suffocating, and when AFO heard people screaming in pain, he could only imagine the horrors Dabi was inflicting on them.

The thick black air made it impossible to see more than just a few steps ahead, and everyone was swinging their swords at anyone and everyone, and those who weren't fighting, were killed by the lack of air.

AFO used his quirks to aid him in breathing and killing, years of training finally coming to use. But truthfully, he couldn't see where he was going even with his quirks. And that's how he ended up in front of you.

You were lying on the ground, unconscious, the side of your head bleeding slightly because after Kurogiri teleported you, your knees buckled and you hit your head on a tree branch.

With neither Kurogiri nor Nomu in sight, AFO couldn't help but wonder what possible trouble could've found them to leave you so dangerously near the battlefield.

AFO kneeled and placed his hand on your cheek, activating his quirk so you'd be able to breathe and not inhale the deadly fumes your father has spread.

He caressed your cheek, silently praying that you didn't inherit your mother's asthma. AFO was sure you hadn't, from the detailed reports he had gotten you never mentioned anything, but... he wouldn't put it past Dabi not to notice you dying to catch your breath.

Poor baby. AFO sighed before calling one of the Nomus (through telepathy) to come. He'd need someone to carry you to safety while he fights.

"Get your filthy paws off her!" Someone yelled from above, AFO barely missing the sharp feather that shot past him.

Keigo.

The winged concubine was hovering above him, wearing battle armour, a sharp contrast to the whore clothes he usually wears. The king remembered him from the last time he visited his daughter at Dabi's place, trying her absolute best to contain her tears while Dabi refused to welcome AFO because he was "busy with important affairs", only for them to hear Dabi and Keigo committing adultery in the court room, your mother hanging her head down in shame as she ushered AFO to move so that she could show him your nursery.

AFO never forgot nor forgave the humiliation he and your mother had to face, and it was even more insulting when he finally saw the bitch Dabi was sleeping with. AFO did consider at first that your father must be either blind and deaf or under the affect of some quirk to be brainwashed enough to think that Keigo was an acceptable replacement for your mother, or even for royalty. It wouldn't be wrong to say that years of resentment had AFO plotting for revenge against him as well.

Another feather shot past him, AFO only tilting his head slightly to dodge the arrow.

The corner of AFO's lips quirked a little.

This ought to be fun.

AFO looked back at your face, still unconscious, and a small part of him wished you'd be awake for this. You'd definitely enjoy this. Oh well.

"I said, get the hell away-!" Keigo's voice got caught in his throat, as if some invisible force was squeezing his throat. Like a fish out of water, Keigo thrashed in air, his hands on his neck trying to release the compression so that air could reach his lungs.

Without looking away from you, AFO spoke.

"Dont yell. I don't want you to disturb my granddaughter." He flicked his wrist and a small domain formed in which all of Dabi's smoke was vacuumed out instantly. The sky was clear, and so was the way he was about to torture Keigo.

AFO further constricted Keigo's throat, making him start to turn blue. In retaliation, he shot many of his feathers at AFO, raining down at him like arrows, but they stopped mid air before they could ever reach him.

"Now that could've hurt Y/n. Involuntary manslaughter... how should I punish you for that?" The king thought outloud, getting up on his feet and looking at the bird that was gurgling for air. "Perhaps, return the attack?" The feathers that had stopped mid-air slowly turned to face Keigo, all glintingdangerously. AFO grinned before suddenly opening his hand (that were controlling the feathers), prompting the feathers to shoot at Keigo.

The feathers revolved and attacked Keigo from all directions, and Keigo felt like he was trapped in a hurricane full of sharpened knives that slashed his skin from all sides.

A few moments later, the feathers stopped and Keigo fell to the ground with them. His armour had protected him from most stabs, but he was still bleeding.

"On to your next offence- killing my daughter and humiliating the royal family. Now, I don't have any evidence for the former except that Y/n accused you, and I don't really blame you completely for either crime because Dabi was mainly involved in it, you were just following orders. Still-" He sighed. "- You were an assailant. You assisted in a crime against royalty, you deserve to be punished." AFO flicked his index finger, lifting Keigo up in the air.

"I've always wondered what Dabi saw in you. Surely, there are prettier sluts than you- thats why he keeps his harem around, eh? It couldn't be possibly that you're strong or smart... and then it clicked! It's those larger than life wings of yours. The fiery red wings that compliment his blue flames. And not to mention how rare your quirk is... haven't seen any other winged humans that could actually fly. And knowing Dabi, that's all he views you as- a rare antique to own. A bird to keep in a gilded cage, if you will. So, thats how I'm going to hurt you and Dabi-" AFO chuckled, his hands making small movements to spread open Keigo's wings.

"I'm going to pluck you like a chicken."

AFO snapped his fingers as feathers began to be pulled slowly, one at a time, from the base painfully, making Keigo scream in agony.

You'd finally woken up by the sound of screams, heart pounding as you saw Keigo strung up in the air with his feathers being pulled out.

Too weak to move, you didn't realise someone was behind you until they covered your mouth, eyes widening in terror before calming down when you saw it Tomura. Placing a finger on his lips telling you to remain quiet as he began lifting you up to carry you out of there, only to stop when you let out an audible gasp as you looked behind him.

Nomu. The one AFO had called just minutes ago.

Tomura only had to take one careful step back to make it banshee scream, making Tomura drop you back down to cover his ears. At the monster's scream, AFO looked back, eyes narrowing at the sight of your traitorous servant.

"Oh, it's just you." He looked at Nomu nodding his head at Tomura. "Take care of him, will you?" You flinched when Nomu punched Tomura, throwing him far away from you. Tomura fortunately softened his landing and jumped back up, pulling out his sword. In order for Tomura to disintegrate the Nomu, he needs to get his hands on him long enough for him to turn into ashes but just before Nomu can crush his skull.

"Dont..." you whispered, eyes fixated on Tomura fighting for his life. Your gaze shifted to AFO,tears forming in your eyes as your lips wobbled. "Please... not him..." you begged, AFO's heart melting a bit at your pitiful sight. He'd give you the world if you'd ask, but getting rid of anyone that stood in his way to protect you was necessary. "Grandpa, please! I promise, I'll be- I'll be good! I won't leave! Ever! I'll do everything you say, just don't hurt Tomura! Please-!"

"Stop it, Y/n. The sovereign never begs." You heard someone say from behind you, making you turn your head to look at the familiar voice.

Dabi stood behind you.

"Have you learnt nothing from princess training? Or has someone been polluting your mind?" He looked at you, his gaze stern but you could see the way they lighted up when he saw you.

Daddy's here.

"Dad." You breathed out. His eyes softened visibly at the word. Oh how he had longed to hear that name again.

He smiled briefly at you before looking back at AFO and then at Keigo, who was still being tortured.

"Let him go. This is between you and me." Dabi said, hands set lighting up.

AFO raised a brow. "How brave of you to man up." He said before throwing Keigo so hard that his body slammed against a big tree, knocking him out. He looked at his Nomu and pointed at Tomura and Keigo. "Get rid of them both. Protect Y/n."

Dabi then launched multiple fireballs at him while AFO jumped back, dodging them all while making sure that you don't get hurt in the crossfire.

Seeing that as Keigo was unconscious and Nomu's full attention was on Tomura, you knew you had to butt in before it kills him.

With all your might, you got on your feet and staggered towards them, picking up one of Keigo's feathers. With unfocused eyes, you walked towards the Nomu, gripping the feather harder as you neared.

"Princess!" Tomura yelled. "Stay back! Stay back, Y/n!" Hearing your name, the Nomu turned around, only to find you holding the razor sharp feather against your neck.

Eyes cold, you stared at the Nomu.

"If he dies, so do I." You threatened, the Nomu's eyes widening. "I'll fucking do it, I swear to god I will. I'm so tired of this "protect Y/n" bullshit, I'm gonna end this stupid thing right here, right now." You slowly inched near the monster. "I should've died, should've killed myself years ago, right after mom died. You all failed to save her, made her life a hell, just like mine is now. My death, my doom is inevitable. But no one else should suffer because of me." You closed your eyes, hands moving to drag the deadly weapon across your neck when the Nomu screeched, falling to its knees, continuing to screech long after you'd dropped your feather.

The Nomu began crying, fat tears dropping down its face as you hugged it, the mutant wrapping its buff arms around you and lifting you up and close.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry I had to do this, but you wouldn't have listened otherwise." It- or well, his tears continued to wet your clothes as you patted his head, and you signalled Tomura not to activate his quirk and kill Nomu. "Its okay, I'm- I'm okay. But you can't protect me without protecting the people I care about. Do you understand what I'm saying?" The Nomu sniffled before nodding, almost like a child. "I care about Tomura, and I care about the villagers. So you must go back to the villagers. The village is under attack, and its burning down. Won't you save them for me? Protect the people I care about?" The Nomu seemed hesitant to leave you at first, but you continued to manipulate him. "If something happens to them, I'll never forgive myself. I'll die-" that was enough for Nomu to agree and leave you behind with a very heavy heart, only after you convinced him that Tomura wasn't a threat.

As soon as the Nomu left, your knees buckled and Tomura caught you before you could fall on your head. "That was... incredibly stupid." He commented. You smiled lazily, nuzzling your cheek against his chest. "I missed you too, Tomu." He pulled you closer to his chest in response, having trouble mustering up the words to express how sorry he was for taking so long, to apologise for not recognising AFO's intentions from the beginning, for being the reason why everything was happening.

But you just looked up at him, staring into his eyes with a soft expression as you whispered "Its okay, Tomura. Its not your fault." And just like that, all was well in the world.

But your happy reunion didn't last long, as Tomura sensed that you were in danger, and in the next second, he'd spun you around to the other direction, gasping as the air got knocked out of him.

You pulled away from him immeadiately, eyes bulging at the large red feather protruding from Tomura's stomach.

"I-" Tomura coughed up blood before falling to his knees, you quickly catching his head before it could hit the ground. Tears falling down your face, you found it hard to breathe as you stared at the crimson staining his shirt

"I knew you'd move." Keigo's voice made you look up, confusion evident on your face. Did he... do this? Keigo walked towards you two, smiling warmly yet with an unsettling look in his eyes, before he grabbed you by the shoulders and hugged you. "I know it looked like I was aiming for you, but I wasn't, love. I could never hurt you!"

Oh no.

You pushed away from him, sobs wracking your body as you tried to help Tomura but far too perplexed as to whether or not you should pull out the feather stabbing him.

But you weren't given much time to ponder upon it as the moment your hands touched his blood, you were instantly yanked back.

"Oh no, honey. You can't let yourself get dirty by his filthy blood. Your father will think you got hurt. Come on, now. Don't fight me on this. Let's go back to the ship." Keigo cooed as he began pulling you away from an unconscious Tomura, and you dropped to the ground to resist Keigo, but he continued to drag you by your arms before eventually picking you up and carrying you. And even though both of you knew that you were far too weak to escape his grip, you still struggled to break free.

Luckily for you, AFO was able to hear your distress calls for help. The moment you wailed to be let go, the instant you called out for Tomura, AFO's head whipped in your direction, veins popping at the sight of that murderer's hands on you, not even looking at Dabi as he blasted your dad away to a distance.

The mere sight of Keigo carrying you crying and sobbing pushed him over the edge, because for a moment he imagined it was his own daughter that was crying.

He is not losing you again.

The deafening sound of AFO's blast made Keigo look back, just to be punched in the face with enough force for him to drop you (as your grandfather caught you and placed you to the side) and land a couple hundred meters away. You immediately scrambled back to Tomura, but the sight of him lying in a pool of blood made you hyperventilate and cry as you prayed and begged for him to wake up while holding his hand in yours, heart dropping to the pit of your stomach as you realised....

There was no pulse.

Meanwhile, AFO jumped over to Keigo again, punching him over and over again until he was an unrecognisable pulp, before flipping him over and he began ripping out the rest of his feathers with his bare hands.

"HOW DARE YOU LAY HANDS ON HER?!" AFO roared, all sense of control out the window as he grabbed hands and snapped them like twigs, Keigo howling in pain.

Suddenly, AFO was kicked off the bird man, Dabi being the culprit of course, who was equally as blinded with rage as AFO.

The battle of quirks began, but as Dabi had one quirk and AFO had an amalgam of quirks, the winner here was clear.

Dabi's fire turned black as he surrounded the two of them with high walls of flames before releasing powerful fire based attacks, only for AFO to use his quirk to create a vacuum and suck out all the oxygen to not only put out the flames but also deprive Dabi of air.

With not being able to either use his quirk or breathe, Dabi didnt have any other choice but to try his luck with hand to hand combat, but the lack of air was getting to him and AFO was a skilled fighter who was able to dodge all of Dabi's punches before he fell to the ground clutching his throat.

AFO stood over him, years of hurt and anger poorly concealed on his face. "Suffocating, isn't it? You've only had to suffer through for a few minutes of something you made my daughter go through for years. For fucking years!" He punched Dabi, who was turning blue now. "She was my daughter, my beautiful daughter and she didn't do anything to deserve what you did to her! You and your slut killed her for what?! For hate? For jealousy? Even if you hated her, had you no heart to have mercy for the mother of your child!? Hell, you could've divorced her, left her, thrown her out of the damn castle if you hated her guts but you could've left her to me alive! YOU DIDNT HAVE TO KILL HER!" He grabbed Dabi by the collar, kicking him in the face. "I've waited to avenge my daughter for years. Today, you will die." AFO pulled out his sword, aiming at Dabi's neck to behead him.

"DROP THAT DOWN OR Y/N DIES!" Keigo threatened, who despite the beating he just took was standing on his feet with one of his sharp feathers against your neck. "I swear to fucking everything, if he dies, so will she!" He yelled as he yanked you by your hair back, and pressed the sharp edge harder against your skin.

AFO's eyes met your face, but you didn't even react as Keigo shook you by your hair, the catatonic state you'd just slipped into as your eyes never left Tomura.

"You wouldn't. You'd never live-" AFO's words died down as Keigo began dragging the feather, drawing blood. "STOP IT! Y/N- OKAY! OKAY!" AFO dropped his sword and released his quirk to allow Dabi to breathe, but AFO couldn't stop staring at you. It just- why didn't you struggle or even flinch at the blade being dragged across your neck, however superficially, it still must've hurt.

Did Tomura's death really affected you this much?

That blank face, that hundred yard stare- it all pained him greatly because it was exactly how he caught your mother when he saw her the last time. And it haunted him all these years that he was so powerless and blind to help his child. That she was so clearly in need of his help and he didn't save her.

But not you. No, no. Even if he has to rewind time itself, he will do so to help you.

"Y/n, Y/n, princess- look at me! I promise you- ill fix this! I'll fix everything! You want Tomura? I'll fix Tomura- just tell me what you want-" but AFO was left at a loss for words once more when you looked directly at him, with the same blank stare but with big fat tears rolling down your cheeks, as if to say that you've lost everything and it can't be helped.

You've failed to protect me.

AFO really did love you, with all his heart and that's why that hopeless, dead look in your eyes hurt him far more than the sword driven through his chest because his heart was already broken by your state. He was far too concerned with you to be aware of his enemy taking advantage of his distraction.

As Dabi began burning AFO, whispering things in his ear, AFO was for once slightly greatful to Keigo for covering your view of your grandfather being burned alive.

He did not want that sight of him to be in your memory.

With AFO being dead and no one to control mind control the Nomus, they stopped fighting and the remaining army of AFO, despite knowing that their king was dead still fought hard until the end to protect their new ruler- you. But with the large armies of the enemy and without Nomus help, they lost.

After finishing off AFO, Dabi walked towards you and Keigo, cold blue eyes staring at you before furrowing his brows as he pulled you in for a hug, you remained limp against him, even as he stroked your hair and said soft words of affirmation to you, giving Keigo a victory kiss.

With your eyes meeting Tomura's dead body, your mind allowed you the mercy of relieving you of consciousness.

Soldiers on both sides, along with the villagers that had now been captured, all watched as King Dabi carried his daughter with one arm, while his other supported Keigo's frail body, walking towards his ship, where his allies stood.

As he was about to climb on the ship, one of his generals asked "Your Majesty? About the prisoners of war, should we sell them or keep them as slaves?" He was referring to the army and subjects of AFO who were still alive.

Dabi didn't look up from your asleep face, smiling softly as you reminded him of when you were a baby.

"Burn them."

What? Even his own allies, even the barbarians, even the ever insane young Empress Momo was surprised at that. Surely, King Dabi would follow the code of conduct for war. Surely-

"Your Majesty-"

"Burn them. Burn it all. Burn the entire island." He then looked up at his assassins/spies Aizawa and Hizashi, nodding at them to see to it that his order is followed before boarding his ship, where Kai carefully took you from Dabi's arms to heal you while other healers came to help Keigo.

With Dabi and Keigo being bandaged and you lying on their in between them, they smiled and kissed once more, their victory only sweetening more with screams of people being burned alive in the background.

War is over.

So... what do u guys think???

PART 8 IS HERE

#yandere royal gay au #yandere bnha #bnha headcanons #yandere mha #bnha imagines #yandere dabi #yandere keigo takami #yandere keigo x reader #yandere hawks x reader #yandere hawks #yandere dad dabi #platonic yandere #yandere afo #yandere grandpa afo #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere bakugo #yandere momo #yandere momo yaoyorozu #yandere tomura #yandere tomura shigaraki #yandere shigaraki #yandere kai chisaki #yandere kai #yandere overhaul #yandere overhaul x reader

[endless-ineffabilities]

babydoll

Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

word count: 800 ▪︎ masterlist

The reader and Bucky have a 4am encounter.

You scramble out of bed, groggy from sleep. Having woken up half an hour ago, you've just been lying there, staring at the ceiling, thinking of what Natasha said to you earlier.

"I have it on good authority that one Sergeant Barnes has his eye on you."

"Oh? And whose authority is that?"

"Mine, of course," she winked, "The only authority you can trust in this compound, mind you."

Your footsteps make no sound as you quietly walk to the shared kitchen on your floor. Everyone's sound asleep, or potentially out at some bar, if they were coaxed into it by Sam. Potentially world-ending events, terrorist threats, homicidal purple aliens. Whatever might come, Sam's enthusiasm to grab a drink and lay back will never wane. Everyone's best friend.

The panel to the kitchen slides open, F.R.I.D.A.Y. scanning and recognizing you. You blink through the haze of sleep, and proceed to rummage through the fridge. Tony's cheeseburgers, Wanda's borscht, Nat's carefully planned meals. And an obscene amount of beer. Taking one, you shuffle around for the bottle opener.

"Need some help with that?" A deep voice asks, startling the shit out of you. The bottle slips from your fingers, but a metal arm catches it just before it empties out on the floor.

"Fuck!" Your eyes meet Bucky's in the faint light, "you really do move like a ghost, don't you?"

"Actually, the name's Buck," he hands the bottle to you, with a cheeky smirk, "and yes, I've been told that before."

"Funny," your heartbeat still races, but no longer due to the almost-accident.

"Here," he reaches forward and deftly twists the bottle cap off with one hand, and clinks his bottle to yours, "Cheers, babydoll."

You take a huge gulp of beer to stifle your awkwardness. Damn him and his hulking form and his sensual musk and his steel blue gaze.

"What was that you called me?" you leaned back against the counter to steady yourself, "Don't think you've said it before. Not to me anyway."

"Hmm, what? Babydoll?" There's a playfulness in his eyes, as if he's aware of how he's making you feel.

"Yeah, it sounds... nice."

He takes another swig of his drink, "Glad you think so. It suits you. Anyway, I'm sorry for scaring you like that. I was just sitting over there," he points to the couch in the dim corner of the room, "and you didn't seem to notice me."

"Couldn't sleep either?" You peer up at him, and let your eyes run over the faint lines around his. You make a mental note of how beautiful it is when he smiles and they appear like sunburst. It took a long time for Bucky to come back to himself, but he truly has let go of the Winter Soldier.

"Mmm," he leans against the counter beside you, and you're even closer than before, "sleep doesn't come easy to me. But at least I bumped into you now, eh?"

"Were you looking for me, Barnes?" You don't know where you've found the courage to flirt, but you're not dwelling on it.

"I just," he hesitates, pausing between his words, "haven't seen you around so much. And... I wanted to. See you more, that is."

Was Bucky getting flustered around you? Perhaps Natasha was not kidding, after all. You already hoped, but it's different to see it now, unfolding in front of you.

You smile, and his lips slowly curve upward while looking at you. "Why is that?"

"Y'know, the last person I called babydoll was this dame called Dot. I took her on a couple dates, back in the 40s. I liked her quite a lot then, so I suppose I saw fit to call her by that little name."

"Oh?" You mull over his words, confused as to why he's telling you about another girl. And then...

"Oh." You whisper once more, "So you..?"

He sets his beer on the counter, and stands in front of you. Bracing his hands on your waist, he lowers his lips close to your ear, "I like you quite a lot now, babydoll."

Blood rushes to your face, and you feel lightheaded. Definitely not due to the alcohol.

"And, I actually have it on good authority that you like me too," he adds.

Realization hits you, and you can't help but fondly roll your eyes, "Tell me, Buck, does this 'good authority' happen to be a certain redheaded former assassin?"

"Yeah, how did you..." His eyes widen slightly, "Oh, of course. She told you, didn't she?"

"That's our Nat," you smile, and testing the waters, you interlace your fingers behind his neck.

Sunburst lines erupt around his magnetic blue eyes, "So I take it she was telling the truth?"

"Oh, just kiss me already."

🖤

First ever Bucky blurb. I've always loved his character, but why did I feel like I was cheating on Aemond or Daemon? 😭 wow, I need therapy..

Not me thinking, 'Aemond would be so jealous right now.' Hahahaha it's a problem.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #mcu fic #sebastian stan #sebastian stan imagine

[allzelemonz]

Bruises: Arthur Morgan X Male Reader

Fictober Prompt: Day 18, Spanking Pronouns: None Mentioned, masculine implication Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: M/Mild sexual themes Warnings: Mentions of violence and injuries sustained, marking, spanking, bruising, fantasizing, masturbation, anal fingering, cuddling, kissing, aftercare, sex put off in favor of cuddling Summary: Arthur loves being put over your knee and this is the longest you’ve been apart. A/N: This was supposed to be an angst day but Arthur decided he deserves better. I didn’t plan on this being as sweet as it turned out, but here we are. Consider this a tooth rotting warning.

Arthur always has bruises. They litter his body from the many times he’s been shot, hit, generally roughed up, or thrown off his horse. Those bruises, he doesn’t like. However, as he stands in front of the hotel mirror he finds himself frowning at the bruises on his ass having faded. Normally when he looks in the mirror he averts his eyes away, not finding himself all that appealing, but he will check to see if his injuries are healing when he can’t see them. It was only his intention to check on a bullet wound after having his bath, but now he knows why he hasn’t been hurting while he sits.

He’ll have to see you when he gets back to camp.

Of course, he’s impatient, touching himself to memories of bending over your knee while he lies in the plush hotel bed. Spanking was something he asked you to do after realizing how much he liked when you gripped at his ass to spread his cheeks or simply knead the muscle. Ever since then, he gets bent over your knee and spanked black and blue at least once a month. The rough fingering that follows is always nice, and exactly why he’s snaked a hand under himself and now struggles to find that nice spot you always manage to get on the first try.

The days that follow his spankings are always sweet and Arthur loves them about as much as the actual sex. You pamper him to say the least, insisting to the gang that their workhorse is due for a break and they back off to give him a lazy day. You fetch him food and water, Arthur only stands to sneak out of his tent with a limp so he can piss. And if you’re not wrapped up in doing Arthur’s chores for him, you fuck him again, this time gentle.

So when Arthur cums onto the soft sheets, he relaxes and smiles at the thought of the next few days.

Camp is busy, bustling even. Arthur hitches his horse and realizes why, the weather is actually nice for once. People are easily going about with their chores, everyone seems in a good mood. But Arthur’s falls when he speaks to Dutch.

“He’s out on a job with Micah, got a stagecoach route they’re spending a few days on.”

Arthur laggingly does his chores, giving half-hearted smiles to people that say hello. It has been a week since he’s seen you, the longest he’s gone without. And ever since you started sharing his little cot, Arthur has found it difficult to even sleep without you. Not to mention, he never likes when you pair up with Micah for jobs. Every time he goes out himself with the crazy bastard, he nearly gets shot, so it makes him worry for you. Not to mention the need, but that hardly matters when Arthur just wants to see you.

He spends the first night lying in his cot for a few hours, eventually deciding to grasp at the picture of the two of you he managed to get developed. He stares at it for a moment, his eyes looking over your somewhat annoyed face in the picture, before his hand digs into his pants and he strokes lazily. He’s not usually this needy, but his fantasies from yesterday being unfullied make him annoyingly hard. The orgasm helps him nod off at least, his dreams turning to nightmares rather quickly and making him get up to change his pants and head off to hunt in the woods around camp to keep his mind busy. He doesn’t want those scenes in his head, every negative thought circling around.

The next day he distracts himself with dominos, shifting in his seat every few seconds to see if he can feel any of those bruises still. He can’t and it irritates him enough to lose to Sean of all people. Then a boasting voice catches his attention.

“Six-hundred, fer the family, Dutchy.” Micah grins, handing the large stack of money over. “An’ a couple jewels an’ such.”

Hosea takes the bags that you hand him, Arthur watching all the while. Dutch puts his hand on your shoulder, giving you a proud smile and a nod before sending you off.

As you walk away, Micah steps closer to Dutch. “Ya proud a’ me?”

Arthur tunes it out, focusing on you instead of Micah’s annoying attempts at sucking up. You find him easily and Arthur excuses himself from Sean and the game to meet you halfway. He takes your hand swiftly, pulling to his tent where he can kiss you like he wants in private. Your lips are chapped and dry but he hardly cares, kissing you hungrily and holding you close.

“What’s that all about, darling?” You smile, your hands resting on Arthur’s hips and making his heart skip.

“Been waitin’ for ya is all.” He sighs, kissing you again.

You stop him after a few seconds. “Go ahead and tell me what you want, Arthur.”

Arthur glances out at camp, finding most people minding their own business. Even Dutch is over by the fire for once, chatting with Hosea. Arthur moves to tug at the fabric of his roof, letting it drop down to cover the sides to enclose you. As he finishes the last tug, he feels your arms around his waist and he relaxes back against you for a moment.

“I want ya ta put me over yer knee.” He says, much less shameful that he’s sounded in the past.

“Bruises healed?” You question, kissing his neck softly.

“Uh-huh.” Arthur hums, turning in your arms to face you. “Need new ones so I ain’t missin’ ya so much.”

You smile, taking his hand in yours and pulling him back with you. You sit on his cot, your legs spread a bit as you pat your knee. Arthur scrambles to undress himself, thankful when he hears the music start up from Dutch’s tent. With his body bare, he situates himself over your lap with his back arched and his ass presented up for you. It’s a position he used to find embarrassing, but with no one to see him he doesn’t particularly care anymore.

He feels your hand run over his cheek, rubbing it softly for a moment before it disappears. Then it returns with a hard slap, making the excess skin jump from the contact. Arthur groans, hardening against your leg as you rub the  presumably reddening skin. You give his other cheek the same treatment and Arthur shivers with every blow. You continue for nearly half an hour and Arthur holds back asking you to stop despite the numbness because he feels so good with the slight sting and the little ruts against your leg.

“Arthur?” You say gently, your hand giving soothing circles on his skin.

He hums, his mind slightly fogged with pleasure and comfort.

“You alright?”

“‘m fine, darlin’… just…” He wiggles his hips slightly, smiling to himself. “Just happy.”

Your hand runs up along his back and Arthur sighs in comfort. He feels so nice, satisfied without being touched or taken.

“Can we lie down…” Arthur mumbles. “‘m tired.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” You say, your hands helping him sit up. “Not in the mood anymore?”

He shakes his head despite the erection he has. “Ya can still fuck me if ya want, darlin’. I don’ wanna disappoint… ‘m just…”

“You don’t have to explain.” You press a kiss to Arthur’s forehead. “I’m happy just to hold you, okay?”

Arthur nods. He moves slowly, laying himself down on his side with his back pressed against the wagon. You follow suit and Arthur melts into your arms, his submissive side coming out even more as he mumbles little thanks and nuzzles your chest.

“You’re gonna get cold.” You mutter and Arthur realizes he’s naked.

When you lie down after sex you both usually put on something to cover your lower halves, but now Arthur lies bare while you’re fully clothed. He knows there’s a blanket folded up on the crates, but he doesn’t want you to leave.

“You can keep me warm, darlin’.” He mutters, hugging you tight. “Don’ leave.”

Arthur knows his words are double edged. He doesn’t want you to leave the bed, he doesn’t want you to leave him alone for so long again. Not just to keep those bruises he likes, but because he can’t handle it when you’re gone for so long. So he hides his smile against your chest when you kiss his head.

“I won’t.”

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x male reader #red dead redemption x male reader #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #x reader #x male reader #fictober #kinktober

[mostlymarvelgirl]

Imagine If Magneto's *Private Moment* With You Was Released Into The Internet (Fem! Reader)

WARNING: MATURE CONTENT IG?

Erik sighed. This wasn't supposed to happen at all. On one hand, he really didn't mind, knowing that at some point, this would happen due to his fame in mutant politics, but on the other hand he didn't want you to be shown to the entire world like this in a private scenario.

The things you would have to face in public, what you would have to go through. While being deep in thought about how to deal with the scenario, a door with you running inside crying angrily. The door was slammed closed.

"Did you know? Did you know that someone motherfucking asshole recorded us having sex and released it? It's apparently the hottest sextape released in the century.', you screamed at him as if you were accusing him.

He felt guilty. Of course, he would never show that, but he ended up with a comment catastrophic enough to ruin the rest of his personal life. Not that he meant what he said, but clearly not thinking through.

"Well, I warned you not to try anything new and kinky. You should've listened.", Erik said immediately, regretting what came out of his mouth.

"What?", your voice became small, not being able to believe what he said.

Before he could apologize and explain, and your anger clouded mind lost patience, the ring from your was thrown into the sink, and you turned your heels walked out the door.

****3 Months Later****

"As we recall the recent steamiest s*xtape of magneto and his wife released into internet which gained over 3.8 billion views has been deleted by the cyber crime from all platforms. The culprits had been caught but died in an accident. Was it planned by Magneto? Or was it just an accident? I'm Sarah Moon reporting in six o clock evening news and I'll see you tomorrow."

The TV was switched off.

Y/N sighed. She knew who killed them and knew Erik wouldn't be arrested. She should've known that Erik was not good expressing and should've seen the expression. She regretted throwing the ring he made for her. She regretted what she had done.

"Regretting some past actions, I suppose?", the sarcastic voice spoke up.

Of course, it would Charles Xavier showing up behind her. That annoying British accent.

"For the record, my accent once wooed your husband to my bedroom, so I would take it as a jealousy or compliment coming from you.", Charles replied while sticking his hair back.

"What do you want?", you ask him with annoyance. You didn't want to aggravate your guilt more than it already was.

Charles smiled. That bitch. You knew, well, everyone knew, if they were in trouble and needed to solve the problem quickly, Charles would do the *smile*, and it'll be like it never happened.

"You're not wiping the entire world's memory about this, that's damn near impossible and dangerous.", you replied to his reaction.

"Well, it is for the better. Think about it. Or well, I should say actually, discuss about it.", Charles wheeled back slowly and opened the door.

"What are you-", you were cut off with Erik standing outside the door soaking wet with...............blood.

Silence.

There was no sound. All, the both of you wanted to do was to reach to one another and cry, Apologize, and comfort, but, the ego and guilt in both of you prevented all the bottled emotions and feelings of 3 months.

"Well, I will be leaving and give the both of you sone privacy. I'll be waiting right outside. Let me know when you've decided.", Charles said while wheeling out and closed the door.

"Hi."

That was it to pull the trigger inside you.

"WHAT THE FUCK YOU MEAN BY SAYING HI???!!! YOU COCK-SUCKING, TWAT-WAFFLED SON OF A MOTHERFUCKING BITCH-ASS- HATTED CUNT! YOU'RE FUCKING KILLING AGAIN???!!! HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED CLEAN THIS MESS UP?!!!", you blasted at him.

"Listen i-", Erik was cut off.

"NO. YOU LISTEN, YOU LITTLE DICK! I DON'T FUCKING CARE ABOUT THE TAPE. OKAY?!", you stated before he could ask.

You started to tear up and your voice broke and became small and vulnerable.

"I don't want you to kill around people. We could've done this together. I don't care what other say about me. Please j-just stop.", you started to cry.

Erik walked near you and hugged you tightly as you hugged him back.

He apologized to you and held you. You felt a something slip in your ring finger. You smiled and cried more realizing how horrible you must have looked.

"Y'know, you smell really bad like some old metal furniture. You need to get showered.", you pushed him away for fun.

"We could shower toge-", Erik got cut off.

"NO. Absolutely not.", you stated while laughing.

#erik lehnsherr x reader #magneto x reader #erik lehnsherr smut #erik lehnsherr #xmen #xmen x reader #marvel pov #charles xavier #erik lensherr x charles xavier #charles xavier x reader #erik lensherr imagine #professor x #x men fanfiction #magneto #x men mcu

[faithinchances]

Hit me with more of Roy conned Jamie into being nice and City is mad about it. I remember the concept and am face pressed against glass!

The basics of the original concept from @jamiesfootball are that Roy accidentally puts Jamie on a niceness points system so they can be friends, wherein Jamie gets to be a dick once for every four times he does something nice, with plenty of shenanigans along the way and everything is fun and hilarious until Jamie gets sent back to City which is when I get to make it sad and dramatic (ie, Jamie spends his nice points on his teammates/Pep/everyone else at City, and his dick points on Sr with the predicted results)

Jamie is an asshole at Richmond, in a way which is pretty well on par with the people around him, except that the narrative frames them well and Jamie poorly. Isaac and Colin do the brunt of the on-screen bullying but we're supposed to blame Jamie because he laughs at it. Roy humiliates Jamie by framing his embarassment as the funniest thing Roy has ever seen except that it's okay because Jamie is an asshole. Ted yells at Jamie for being hurt and unable to train, which is cool because Jamie is "obviously" faking an injury to get back at Ted for benching him.

Basically everything and everyone kind of sucked.

Take him out of that and put him in a functional dressing room with a good coach and lower pressure overall, and I don't think Jamie would behave that way. I don't think he ever behaved that way at City.

So Jamie goes back to City, a place where he never was much of a prick to begin with (except to the opposition team, because that is part of the sport), and has a casual identity crisis in the back of every shot.

He is touch-starved, being very very good, and blatantly and obviously anxiety-ridden, and all of this in ways which he hadn't been the year before.

Someone: *gets tackled kind of rough by someone on the other team* Jamie: Pep put me on put me on I will break his ankles and restore our honour Pep: ... no... ... Jamie are you doing okay? Jamie: Yes Pep all is well and good, I am just using a nice point. Pep: I'm going to think about what that means some other time. Jamie on the inside: oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck

Meanwhile, Jamie is gradually racking up bruises, injuries, and sore spots because he is constantly pushing Sr's buttons so he can pretend that he's still 20% an asshole, and City desperately want to know what Richmond did to their previously nice, normal teammate for him to come back as this clicker-trained attack chihuahua.

(sidenote, I headcanon Jamie as struggling with statistics and numbers games. That he doesn't play FIFA because he worries about how wanting to maximize his ingame stats could negatively affect how he plays in real life. That the only person he's willing to take statistics from are the tactical scouts (a position at a club where you study the upcoming opponent to learn their strategies and tendencies to better prepare the players to face them) because he doesn't want to wind up maximizing his pass completion percentage by no longer taking good risks on through balls or crosses. He's a numbers guy in a way which is sometimes a problem, and is definitely a problem here.)

(a different sidenote, Roy's poor opinion of Jamie was probably a torpedo to his self-confidence. He probably always struggled with both, in some part due to Sr's abuse, but he worshipped Roy. And Roy hated him.)

Hence: an intervention.

Someone, either the captain group (football teams will have ~4 captains with an internal hierarchy, since there has to be a captain on the pitch but no one can actually play every minute of a season) or Pep, sits Jamie down for a chat about how concerned they all are about him and Jamie what is a nice point, what is a prick point, Jamie you were already nice. We already liked you. But right now you're scaring us. You're hurt. Jamie who are you using your prick points on. Jamie? Jamie?

#child abuse tw #ted lasso #jamie tartt #fanfic

[daintylovers]

Mike nonstop talking about Y/n at Hellfire and Eddie lets the reader sit in on one of the games on Mike's lap?

this may be your best idea yet…

- so like any love struck teen, mike is literally the worst. the only thing he talks about now is you. whether that’s what you were wearing or what you guys did last time you hung out, it didn’t matter.

- frankly, the boys were getting tired of it.

- also they didn’t really believe him about you, because they never really saw you guys interact

- so finally one day eddie got fed up with mike and told him that if you were so special, why doesn’t he just invite you to the next hellfire meeting

- and mike, not really getting that eddie was trying to make fun of him, thought that was the best idea he had ever heard

- it took some time to convince you. you were scared to official meet most of the members, plus what if they didn’t like you?? what if they hated you?? or made fun of you?? and you didn’t know anything about dnd so what exactly were you supposed to do?

- mike calmed you down while gently answering all your questions. they would like you just fine, no they could never hate you, why would they make fun of you?? don’t you remember who exactly is in hellfire?? a bunch of (for lack of better words) social rejects. you would be just fine.

- as for what you were meant to do, he wasn’t sure. so that night the two of you stayed up and he taught you some basics

- the next day you felt confident until the last period of the day. the meeting was directly after school and you began to get all panicky.

- once the bell signaled you rushed off into the bathroom, deciding to hide out. you couldn’t face them, it was all too nerve wracking

- about ten minutes after the final bell, mike was beginning to be worried for you. i mean where even were you?? he knew you had been at school, fuck he had literally walked you there. plus he saw you right before your final class.

- and eddie looked all too excited to learn that mike had been bluffing the whole time about actually have this great and perfect girlfriend

- so naturally, as any teenaged boy does, he started to lightly taunt mike. then the rest of the group joined in.

- right as eddie was calling mike out, you had made your grand appearance.

- in the flesh stood you, mikes great and perfect girlfriend, with apologies flying out so fast no one could really process your words

- once you realized that everyone had gone quite, your cheeks heated up

- gathering up all that anxiety and swallowing it like an advil, you waltzed over to eddie and stuck your hand out, offering an official introduction. you acted as if it was a business meeting, stating your name and relation. to which eddie stared up at you from his throne for a good thirty seconds before grasping your hand in his. the force of his handshake was enough to leave little imprints from his rings onto your fingers

- after that he apologized, due to lack of seating. he explained that he thought you were a figment of mikes over active imagination. to which you could hear mike in the background FUMING

- so without any other ideas, you went over to your angry boyfriend who was spewing insults at the older male and just took a seat in his lap.

- that shut him up nice and easy

- eddie liked that, shutting mike up had never been that easy

- and so with your grand introduction, they began the game

- about half way through you and mike became a team and ending up defeating eddie’s newest villain from the campaign

- after wards, at lunch the next day everyone was pestering mike on if you would join the club, and when you would be back

- and he had never seen you smile so wide when he told you just how much everyone liked you in the end

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #mike wheeler #mike wheeler x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson

[crissiebaby]

The Pampered Curse: Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: This story contains diaper usage, humiliation, domination, masturbation/diaper sex, hyperwetting, mental regression, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!

Commissioned By: BlossomBitchDolly

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

Beggar’s night. The one night a year when parents deem it acceptable to let their snot-nosed brats run amuck through every suburban street in America. For Edan Claymore, who often enjoyed a nice evening walk around the neighborhood, Halloween was up there with the Fourth of July for the most annoying holiday. Not even his noise-canceling earbuds were a match for the ear-piercing shrieks that echoed all around.

“Boo!”

All of a sudden, a random kid with a white sheet draped over themselves ran up and shouted in Edan’s face, causing him to recoil. By the time he caught his breath, the kid had sprinted off and ducked between a row of houses. Unless he wanted to get mixed up in chasing some dumb kid around the neighborhood, he had to let it go.

Having been thoroughly annoyed by the vermin who were obstructing his usual walking route, Edan decided to turn off down a gravel road that he had never seen anyone venture down before, much less himself. This was mainly due to the gravel road part with him not wanting to get his shoes dusty for no good reason. However, desperate times called for desperate measures, and a dirty, isolated road was better than the alternative.

Walking alongside the rock-covered road, Edan picked up a small handful of pebbles off the ground and chucked one as far into the empty field as he could. As he did, he spotted a house in the distance that he’d never seen before. He supposed that shouldn’t be a surprising fact since this was his first time walking in this direction. Still, he’d lived in this town his whole life so it was a bit odd to find somewhere unfamiliar.

Edan approached the structure with a skeptical eye, which grew wide as he discovered what he was walking toward wasn’t a house but a massive mansion. This only spiked his curiosity further. He tossed a pebble over the black, gated fence and struck the abandoned-looking mansion on its dilapidated roof. Part of him considered trespassing briefly, especially since there was clearly no one else around for at least half a mile. But as he looked down at his untorn blue jeans and new, slightly dusty sneakers, he figured it was not worth it.

“MMMMMMMMMMMUH!”

That was until a feminine moan hooked itself around Edan’s ear. He whipped his head back toward the mansion, scanning the windows for signs of life. To his surprise, it appeared that someone was inside the house, visible through one of the lower windows. Creeping back up to the gate, he focused his sights on the silhouette in the window, able to make out the naked, curvy form of a busty woman.

In the back of his mind, Edan knew he should pretend he never saw or heard anything and leave. Nothing good would come from trying to get a closer look. But as he looked back and forth at the empty road, his devious, lewd mind got to work. Perhaps beggar’s night wouldn’t be a total bust after all so long as he got in some “trick or treating” of his own. Throwing caution to the wind, he used the brain between his legs to will himself forward, passing between a pair of bent bars along the fence and sneaking up to the tantalizing window. 

*SQUELCH!*

“Goddess, this chick must have the wettest pussy alive,” thought Edan as he listened in on this young woman’s sloppy sex noises. She must’ve been so unbearably horny for her slit to be that moist; a fact that produced a small tent in the front of his pants. Getting his breathing under control, he placed his hands on the window sill and hopped up on his tippy toes to get a look at the insatiable, slutty cutie whose voice beckoned him like a siren luring men to their doom. If only Edan had known how apt a comparison that actually was.

“Oh, fuck! M-More!” yelled the young woman who had every right to believe that no one was around to eavesdrop on her dirty deeds. Though what kind of dirty deeds she was up to was far outside of anything Edan could have ever imagined. At first, he believed his eyes had to be playing tricks on him. Sure enough, there was a lone girl positioned on an antique couch with her hands lovingly plunged between her thighs.

Besides her hands, something else was between her legs as well. Something white and bulbous with a faint, yellow center. It wasn’t until Edan rubbed his eyes that he was able to confirm his wildest suspicions. Whoever this girl happened to be wasn’t just masturbating, she was grinding atop a swollen, squishy diaper, the likes of which were far bigger than any he’d ever laid eyes on.

Edan watched with mouth agape as the woman arched back and howled a deep, passionate cry. Her hips rocked with a velocity he’d never seen before. It would almost be majestic if he wasn’t so repulsed by what she was doing from a base standpoint. Not that he really cared much what someone was into one way or another. He just found the idea of getting off in a diaper to be a ridiculous fad that would be sure to fade in time. “Psssh, fucking gross,” he mumbled, realizing too late that his thoughts had absent-mindedly slipped out of his mouth.

“Huh?! Who’s there?!” said the woman, instantly becoming alert to the strange whispering coming from her window. Tragically for Edan, he wasn’t fast enough to avoid being seen as she spotted his fingers still clung to the window sill. Her response was fairly predictable, “EEEEEEEK!”

Releasing his grip on the ledge of the window, Edan backed away as he recognized the gravity of his situation. The last thing he needed was to get caught and be labeled the town peeper. He stumbled away from the mansion with his eyes glued to the window he’d been staring through. Unfortunately, this meant he wasn’t watching where he was walking.

“Excuse me!” said the woman, who appeared in Edan’s path just as he turned toward the gate. Naturally, he screamed and fell back onto his ass, startled by her sudden appearance, “And just who do you think you are?!” She placed her hands on her hips, which still had the ridiculously large diaper she’d been humping taped around them.

Falling down into the knee-high grass, Edan was flabbergasted by how unnatural fast this woman managed to meet him outside. He didn’t even hear the front door or any footsteps. Something was definitely off. Still, for as many bizarre thoughts that entered his head, an equal amount of brain power was focused on quelling the situation to keep the police from being called. “I-I’m so sorry! I heard a scream from down the road and thought I outta check it out,” he lied, pretending it was concern and not titillation that brought him in.

Unsurprisingly, the woman saw right through Edan’s pathetic excuse, though was unable to stop herself from blushing at the thought of how audible her sex acts were. She teetered in place, feeling her horniness begrudgingly rise again, caused in part by how exposed her playtime was but mostly by the ultra-squishy diaper that squelched between her knees with every tiny movement. Furrowing her brow line, she issued Edan a single warning, “Leave this place now…and forget anything you saw!”

Sitting up, the pace of Edan’s heartbeat slowly came down as he listened to the mysterious girl’s declaration. Just who did she think she was ordering him around like that, especially while standing in front of him in a diaper that brought new meaning to the word, “soggy.” Sure, he was technically in the wrong but he also wasn’t the exhibitionist masturbating in front of an open window before subsequently marching outside in her sex gear. “Trust me, I won’t be coming back here again,” he said, his aggression getting the better of him as the woman rolled her eyes and turned her back on him. Who was she to judge him?! Losing control of his tongue at the wrong moment, he continued, “It’s not like I’d wanna spend time around some diaper-wearing loser chick anyway.” He climbed to his feet and dusted the dirt of his jeans.

“A diaper-wearing loser, huh?” said the woman, once again having moved at seemingly the speed of lightning to meet Edan face to face, “Such a vulgar tongue you have. Didn’t your mother treat you how to talk to others, especially your elders?”

Edan jumped backward for a second time, though he was aware of his footing enough this time to remain upright. He caught his breath as he stared at the woman defiantly. “Oh, I have plenty of respect. Just not for some diaper-loving weirdo who’s practically begging to be degraded. Fuck, I bet you’re getting off on all these insults, aren’t you?” he said, folding his arms and smirking at the diaper-clad woman. He flashed his pearly white teeth, believing his words would send her running back into the house with her oversized nappy tucked between her legs.

Unfortunately for Edan, the woman had other plans. “That sounds like an awful lot of projection if you ask me. All you saw was me doing was practicing a little self-love, and now you’ve concocted this whole story of me in your head,” she said, tracing a finger across his collarbone with a seductive yet sinister smile, “Maybe…just maybe…that’s exactly what YOU want.”

*SNAP!*

In the blink of an eye, the woman vanished with the sound of her snapping fingers still lingering in Edan’s ear. He looked around frantically, a cold chill moving up his spine, before turning tail and spirited for the small opening in the gate. And he didn’t stop running until his feet had returned to the familiar comfort of pavement. “Last time I ever walked that way,” he muttered to himself, hoping he’d never have to see that woman or that house ever again. 

Meanwhile, standing in the same window she’d been discovered in, the woman lifted her arms up and leaned against the glass of the raised window. She breathed in the crisp, evening air through her nose, a spiteful grin crossing her face. “Be seeing very you soon, my new Little toy.” 

Up overhead, the clouds parted just enough to allow a shred of moonlight to be cast down on the mansion. As it did, the woman’s physical form disappeared from sight. Her expression, however, remained.

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*BEEP! BEEP! BEE-*

After a long night of drinking to block out the sounds of the various trick-or-treaters who took it upon themselves to ring his doorbell in spite of ensuring all lights were off in the house, Edan’s bloodshot eyes flickered open as he slapped an exhausted hand down on his alarm clock. Given that it was Sunday, he considered closing his eyes and sleeping for another hour or so. Sadly, his bladder put the kibosh to that idea almost immediately as his body instinctively woke up needing to pee. Groaning, he shuffled his feet out of bed, knowing his need to relieve himself would only grow if he tried to ignore it.

*CRINKLE!*

Suddenly, Edan’s movement came to an abrupt halt as a strange rustling sound accompanied every twitch his lower half made. If that wasn’t odd enough, there appeared to be something soft and plastic-y stuffed between his legs. He threw open his comforter to see what was causing these foreign sensations, his jaw dropping over what he found.

Wrapped around Edan’s crotch and butt was unmistakably a diaper. A generic, white, disposable diaper. A humiliating, infantile, degrading diaper. Many unpleasant thoughts circulated in Edan’s head, most pressingly of which was, “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!”

TO BE CONTINUED…

NEXT »

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Edited by AllySmolShork

#ab/dl #ab/dl art #ab/dl stories #ab/dl girl #crissiebaby #diaper art #diaper stories #diaper humiliation #dirty diaper #diaper messy #wetting diaper #md/lb #mental regression #hypnosis #diaper hypno #diaper humping

[velvethopewrites]

The sob story with this is that I wrote this yesterday and it got deleted before I could save it. I wanted to die cry, basically. Somehow I managed to re-create most of it, after working on it all damn day. (I basically ended up writing over 6,000+ words in one day. Yowza) I still feel as though the first version was better, but…no one knows that but me, I suppose. (And my partner, who got to read it right before the horrors happened). Regardless, I am proud of this and proud of myself for not giving up when it really would have been easy to. So huzzah to the fickle hand of fate and all that stuff.

For Suptober 2023 prompt “starlight”

I tag @fellshish and @canonblastedships and @clarkenting for being super cool reblog buddies, lol (which is just a thing I made up) This is the longest destiel fic I’ve written yet and it will be my first official AO3 destiel! (As soon as I remember how to do that, oy)

Edited: Now with Spiffy AO3 Link! Here!

The Starlight

There were three types of people that visited the Starlight Lounge — drunks, people desperate to score, and the employees that made their bread and butter trying to tame the other two.

Dean Winchester, unfortunately, was a member of that third group. Oh, sure, Dean had been known to put away a fair bunch of liquor in his day, and sure, Dean had definitely been known to do the Bedroom Rodeo whenever the opportunity presented itself. Hell, back when he’d first started at the Starlight he’d often been three types at once. Work, drink, get laid. Sometimes, not even in that order.

But that was past Dean. Current and newly mature Dean (hah) just wanted to work, go home, eat and fall into his bed. Working at the Starlight wasn’t that bad – it had fairly decent pay and it was often interesting. And like everyone else, Dean had bills to pay and he gave more than his fair share to Sammy. Not that Sam really needed it anymore; he was busy working as a law clerk downtown, putting himself through school. But still, Dean wanted to help as much as he could and besides it was his brotherly duty. Heh. Duty.

Tonight, due to the cold and rainy weather, the bar was fairly empty and business had been slow. There was only one of his regulars, a writer by the name of Chuck crying into his notebooks at the back of the bar. To be honest, Dean had never seen Chuck write a damn thing but the man sure could put scotch away like a pro.  There was also a young couple making out in one of the booths near the restrooms. He’d been keeping an eye on them most of the night, actually, making sure no one lost any clothing. The Starlight didn’t need a public indecency charge on the books. At least, not so soon since the last one, at any rate. 

Dean yawned and finished cleaning up the bar, hoping Chuck and the couple on their way to Soft-Porn Town would soon be leaving. Maybe Dean could even push them on their way a bit early, so he could get home at a decent time, for once.  As he walked over towards Chuck to perhaps lightly suggest the writer hit the road, the double doors of the bar blew open – bringing in the rain, the cold rush of the wind and a new customer in a beige trench coat with seriously fucked up hair. Great.

Dean sighed and turned back around as the new guy slumped onto the first stool at the bar. His dark brown, messed up hair looked even worse up close, and he had a scowl on his face as he glared down at the bar in front of him.

“Whiskey. Neat,” Messy-Hair said, voice low and very rumbly.

Dean pulled down a clean glass and poured some of their nicer whiskey into it. Dude looks like he could afford it, at any rate. He had a nice suit on under the coat, now that Dean could properly see it and his watch was one of those big clunky things that could probably tell the time on Jupiter or some shit like that. The man’s hand reaches for the glass before Dean has barely pushed it forward. He throws back the drink in record time and hits the bar with it so that it makes a loud thunk.

“Another one.”

Dean shrugged as the man kept glaring down at the bar as though it contained all the answers to life and everything else; Dean knew for a fact that it didn’t. It didn’t even have a ‘42’ scratched into it or anything. (RIP Douglas Adams)

This time the man just wraps his hand around the glass, his fingers clutching at it and woah, Dean thinks, dude’s got some huge fucking hands. They’re big and they’re strong looking. The fingers are nice and long and graceful and oh, oh, oh. Maybe it’s a kink, or maybe it’s a preference, but Dean loves hands. Manly looking mitts like Messy-Hair here and even smaller, more delicate hands like on most women, with pretty nail colors. But Dean’s not choosy.

He sees motion out of the corner of his eye and notices Chuck signaling that he’d like to pay up. Glancing at Messy-Hair he figures he has a few minutes before having to pour him another so he sets the bottle down and heads over to the other side.

“All right there, Chuck?”

“Yeah, yeah, thank you, Dean.”

The older man is flipping through his wallet and counting out his cash slowly. Dean wipes the bar and puts Chuck���s last glass into the bucket for later cleaning.

“Write anything tonight?” Dean always asks this question. It’s like a little game he and Chuck play because it always has the same answer.

“No,” Chuck says looking up at him. He places his finger to his temple solemnly, almost like he’s holding a gun. “But I did a lot of work up here.”

He always gives Dean this look as though Dean should know exactly what he’s talking about. But, of course, Dean never does. He likes to read but he sure as hell would never attempt to write. Personally, he thinks Chuck is sort of crazy, but hey, to each their own, right?

Chuck pushes his notebooks into his old canvas bag on the bar. It’s bulging with everything he carries with him and looks fit to burst. Dean supposes that writer’s block is heavy business.

Chucks nods goodnight as he slips his bag over his shoulders, buckling a bit under the weight. Dean watches as he wobbles away and he’s not sure if it’s from the alcohol or the bag. He’d normally be worried (hey, no bar can stay in business if all its clientele got themselves killed), but he knows Chuck lives nearby. He’ll be all right and probably in his same spot tomorrow evening. He puts Chuck’s money into the till and realizes he tipped Dean more than usual. He really did have had a good night, then.

He notices the couple trying to break the world record for smooches in a single night are getting up and putting on their jackets. Maybe Dean can get out early; he’s got the DVR set for Dr Sexy already, but he wouldn’t say no to catching it live for once.

Glancing over he sees Messy-Hair is now resting his head on the bar, but he lifts it as the doors bang shut behind Chuck, the cold burst of wind making his hair looking even more disheveled. Dean heads back over to see if he needs a refill and is suddenly struck dumb by the other man finally looking at him. Holy Mother of Blue, those are some eyes. The dude is handsome. Like old-time movie handsome. Strong jaw, with a smattering of scruff, pink soft lips and eyes that look like they can see into your soul, no, scratch that, not see, but pierce. Dean swallows roughly and picks up the whiskey bottle. 

“Hey, uh, it’s getting late. One more for the road?” Dean assumes the dude doesn’t know the Starlight is technically open until midnight. Assumes, hah. More like prays.

Blue-Eyes stares at him and frowns. “I thought this establishment closed at midnight.”

“Er, yeah. I suppose it does.”

“Then I’ll take another,” Blue-Eyes pauses and holds out his glass. “And keep them coming for the next forty-five minutes, barkeep.”

Dean blinks at the old-fashioned word and pours another round. They stare at each other until he hears a giggle and a clearing of a throat. He looks over to see the couple and wonders how long they’ve been waiting. Judging from the churlish look on the guy’s face and the barely contained laughter emanating from the girl, it’s been awhile. He settles their tab and takes their money (lousy tip, of course) as the two saunter past Blue-Eyes and escape out into the night. Well, at least Dean can see it’s stopped raining.

Making up his mind, he follows them from behind the bar and locks the door after them. He flips off the sign, too. He may be stuck here with Blue-Eyes, but he’ll be damned if he’ll let someone else come meandering in to make him get home even later.

He comes back to stand in front of his customer and makes a decision. Pulling down another glass, he pours some of the whiskey into it and sighs as the warmth of it hits his system. What do they always say about good whiskey? It should warm the cockles of the heart, or something like that. Not that Dean actually knows what a cockle is, but hey, it went down smooth.

He realizes Blue-Eyes is watching him and Dean decides to bite the bullet. He’s tired, bored and probably on his way to cranky town if Blue-Eyes keeps his word about the next forty-five minutes.

“So, what brings you out on a cold and rainy night like tonight, Mr, uh…what’s your name? I can’t keep calling you what I’ve been calling you in my head.”

The other man squints and tilts his head at Dean like a tiny, confused bird. And no, Dean doesn’t find that adorable at all. Nope.

“What have you been calling me in your head?”

Dean purses his lips. Sometimes he’s really an idiot. He gives Blue-Eyes a shaky laugh.

“I said I wasn’t gonna keeping doing that.”

They stare at each other again, neither one budging until Blue-Eyes releases a breath and blinks, shoulders slumping a bit more. By the end of the night Dean expects this guy to be melted into the floor.

“Cas.”

Dean frowns. “Your name is Mr Cas?”

“No, just Cas.” Blue-Eyes, no, scratch that, Cas then holds out his hand so Dean can shake it like they’re fellow professionals meeting at a party or something. As he grips the other man’s hand in his own he realizes Cas’s hand is warm, dry, and, yep, strong. The dude is seriously ticking all of Dean’s boxes without even trying. It’s a bit unnerving, really.

“Is that short for something?” Dean asks, wondering what type of name that is.

Cas just looks at him over the rim of his glass. “Perhaps.”

Neither of them say anything else for a long moment and Dean shakes his head. “People ever tell you you talk too much?”

“Yes. All the time,” Cas says with a smirk.

Dean laughs. “Well, whatever. It’s officially nice to meet you, Cas. I’m Dean. Humble and professional barkeep at your service.”

“Hello, Dean.”

Cas’s voice is deep but there’s a warmth to it that makes Dean happy.  They chit-chat for a bit, just like Dean would do with any newbie to the bar. He pours them both another round and then tries his question again.

“So, you seemed a bit upset earlier. What brought you through my doors, Cas?”

Cas sighs and glances away. He taps his fingers lightly on the polished wood of the bar. He stares at Dean as though assessing him and then looks as though he’s made up his mind.

“My…er, the person I’ve been dating, dumped me tonight. We went to an expensive restaurant and ordered far too pricey food for the serving size and drank outrageously fancy wine. Then they ordered an expensive bottle of cognac, drank it all and then told me I wasn’t worth it.”

Dean winces. “Ouch. How long were you together?”

“Six months.”

“Well, it’s not too long for a relationship, but it’s long enough to hurt.”

Cas nods, looking sullen again.

“What special occasion was it?”

Cas stares at him. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Fancy restaurant, the way you’re dressed, the cognac. Nobody orders that unless there’s been a birth or an anniversary or both.”

“It was my birthday,” Cas says, looking down again.

“Fuck,” Dean blurts out without thinking. “And they dumped you? Seriously bad juju, man.”

Cas nods and takes another drink of his whiskey, looking miserable. Dean tops off both of their glasses and hums.

“What was his name?”

Cas whips his head up, suddenly looking confused and more than a little worried. “I never said it was a he.”

“It was your distinct lack of pronouns, dude. Always the dead giveaway. Trust me, as a guy who plays for both sides, I know. Pronouns are key. Hey, relax, Cas, this is a safe space.” Dean points to the small pride flag he keeps above the bar and watches as Cas visibly relaxes.

The silence that falls between them is comfortable now. Welcoming, even. Cas clears his throat and rests his hand on his chin, peering at Dean.

“So…you’re bi, I assume or, pan, perhaps?”

“Got it in one. Just another bisexual loser ruining the world one lay at a time.”

Dean winks to show he’s only kidding. He’s proud to be bi, but it doesn’t mean he can’t make a joke at his own expense. Of course, if Sam or his friend Charlie were here they’d both tell him what they thought of that.

“His name was Bartholomew.”

Dean snorts. “It fits him. Douche-y name for a douche-canoe.”

Cas barks out a laugh and it completely changes his face into something truly beautiful. Dean suddenly feels the need to always make Cas laugh like that. He can’t imagine anyone not wanting to – his laugh is infectious. And the light it puts in his eyes is irresistible.

Cas looks serious again as he swirls the rest of the whiskey in his glass. “To be honest, Bart was just the last in a long line of failed…connections. I’m doubting my own self-worth at this point. Everyone ends up leaving or they get fed up with me. I’m too introverted…too socially awkward to deal with, I suppose.”

“I don’t know, you seem to be doing okay right now.”

“I’ve been drinking,” Cas says, deadpan. “And also I’m paying you.”

Dean chuckles. “Not really, I decided to stop charging you as soon as I poured my first one.”

“Your hospitality know no bounds. Truly.”

Dean laughs. Cas’s dry delivery and poker-faced expressions really are the limit. He feels that familiar warmth he always gets when he meets someone new. A someone new that excites him. But he pushes the feeling aside because he knows on some level that trying to get into Cas’s pants is so not what the other man needs right now. Dean shivers as he realizes how damn mature that sounds. Next he’ll be looking into 401ks and cemetery plots.

“Well, consider them birthday drinks. Of course, this stuff doesn’t cost a small fortune or anything, but I figured you’d already paid out enough tonight.”

Cas smirks and shakes his head at Dean. “Thank you, Dean. It’s actually very kind of you to…take pity on me.”

He says it jokingly but Dean gets the sense that he means it. He reaches forward and touches Cas’s hand.

“Hey, no pity here. You are ridiculously attractive and if I didn’t have a conscience, I’d definitely be throwing out my best lines here to help you relieve some tension, if you know what I mean. And you are not awkward to me, but even if you were, it wouldn’t be enough to stop me from asking for your number or seeing if you wanted to meet up sometime. I barely know you but you seem like a decent guy, Cas. And I think all of those people that don’t get you can just fuck right off. You need to keep trying, man. Don’t give up just because a few losers couldn’t see what they had.”

Cas blinks at Dean, blue eyes getting huge. “You think I’m ridiculously attractive?”

Dean thinks back. Did he say that? Yeah, he said that. Figures that would be the only thing to register with the dude.

“What sort of line would you use on me? I mean, if you were going to, that is.” Cas shyly glances away and then back, a curious look on his face.

“Oh, uh, probably something like, well you know what they say — the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” Dean waggles his eyebrows and smirks, faking a leer.

“I’m not sure that would work with me,” Cas says, mirth clear in his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. You’d make me work for it, I know. But seriously, you need to regroup, clear out the douche-canoes from your life and find a new guy, man.”

Cas smiles at him in fondness, and nope, Dean is not going to do it. He will not break his rule about dating people just out of relationships. Not even for big huge blue eyes that make him feel sappy like a love song. Cas, however, clearly has other plans.

“This may be forward but, um, Dean would you allow me take you out for dinner? As a date, in case you were wondering how I meant it.”

“Oh, wow, Cas, um, I mean…”

Cas’s face takes an interesting journey in two seconds – from hopeful joy to miserable and wretched. Dean feels his heart break a little bit for him in that moment and mentally kicks his own ass for being a tool.

“Oh, I see. I…I’m sorry, Dean. Thank you for hospitality.” Cas fumbles with his wallet and places far too much money next to his glass. “I won’t keep you anymore. Go home and enjoy whatever is left of your night.”

Dean watches dumbly as Cas sits up straighter and then turns in his seat, his broad shoulders unyielding, suddenly. Dean knows he just can’t let it end like this.

“No, wait, Cas!”

Dean practically flings himself around the bar to reach Cas before he can unlock the door and leave without a backwards glance. He rests his hand on Cas’s shoulder, stopping him.

“It’s only because I have a rule about dating people that just got out of a relationship. It has nothing to do with you, I promise you. You need to focus on you, dude. Figure out what you’re looking for. If this one was just the last in a long line of guys who don’t understand you, try and see what people you’re going for. I mean, I’m no expert, and God knows I’ve had my fair share of jumping before looking moments, but I think you just need some Cas time right now, you know? If we ever start something I do not want to be rebound guy and you deserve something better than a one night stand.”

Cas stares at him, blue eyes half in shadow.  Dean holds his breath, hoping he didn’t just lose something. All he can hear is the clock ticking behind him and the pounding of his own heart in his ears.

“That was quite the speech,” Cas finally says. “You sound like you know from experience.”

“Cas, man. You have no idea.”

“I have some, like I said, a long line of rejections. Still…”  Cas’s eyes search his face and then nods to himself. “Maybe you’re right. I do tend to do things without thinking in this area of life despite being very practical usually. And you’re also right on anther point, Dean. You do not deserve to be “rebound guy”.”

Dean can’t help his grin as Cas makes the quotes motion with his fingers. They stare at each other for a bit longer before he unlocks the door. Cas steps out as the cold air filters in between them, causing them bother to shiver. Dean pauses, and then holds out his hand. “Let me have your phone.”

“My phone?”

“Yeah, you have one, right? Or have you moved on to something flashier like sky writing?”

Cas snorts and shakes his head. He fumbles in his pockets and then pulls out a slim, black smartphone. He unlocks it and hands it over. Of course, it’d be that kind of phone that can help you bake bread or turn off all the lights in the world with just a click or something. He finally finds what he’s looking for and puts his contact information in.

“There. There’s my number. Text me to let me know you get home, okay? And as for the rest, we’ll take it one day at a time, Cas. Let’s be friends, first.”

Cas smiles shyly as he looks down at his phone and nods. “Friends, first. I like that. Goodnight, Dean.”

“Goodnight, buddy. Be safe.”

Cas slips out and away, leaving a coldness in his wake as he takes his body heat with him. Dean watches him go, the black of the night almost swallowing him up. Cas pauses to pull his coat tighter, the glow of the streetlight lighting up his profile. To Dean he looks pure—angelic, almost, like a painting or a sculpture. With one last look at Dean, he eventually fades away, disappearing back into the world. Soon all Dean can see is his own breath in the air and the twinkling starlight from the surprisingly clear sky above. He locks up again and finishes his routine for the night. After he’s put the money in the safe and headed out back to his car, he feels happy inside. Like something good just occurred — like some new path has been cleared for him to travel. His drive home is quick and easy, there’s hardly any traffic mostly due to the earlier rain. It’s just as he’s pulling into his driveway that he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. It’s from an unknown number and his heart beats faster as he reads the message.

From unknown: I arrived home safely, Dean. Thank you, again. Would you like to get coffee tomorrow, or, perhaps I should say, later today? Oh, this is Cas, by the way. In case you didn’t know. :)

Dean saves the number and then returns to the message to reply, a grin creeping onto his face before he even realizes it.

Dean: Of course, dude. Coffee sounds great. Around 1pm?

Cas: Perfect. Do you know the Blue Java Café on Marion and Elm? It’s across from the park and one of my favorite places.

Dean: Sounds good. Can’t wait to talk to you sober, ya lush… (lol j/k hah) 

Cas sends him a sticking-tongue-out emoji as a response and Dean chuckles as he locks up his car. He has a nice, happy feeling in his heart as he thinks of Cas. Like maybe this is something special. Or maybe it’s just that it could be and has the potential to be. He knows he told Cas friends first, but Dean’s willing to see where it…where they, can go.

#suptober23 #destiel #prompt:starlight #dean and cas #meet-cute #my writing #biting nails here #like posting stuff is scary #wth #I am not used this anymore #castiel #dean winchester

[maskedtruths666]

And now, for the final scene. This is 100% FAKE.

Scene: She gets taken back to a hotel and a group of guys have their way with her.

As Jia Qi was laying down, breathless from being used like a common cum dumpster at an actual dumpster, she didn’t realize that a group of guys were forming up on her. Before she could process anything, she was fed a glass of vodka. The random guy kept forcing her to drink the vodka and she could not resist. She could feel herself loosening up and losing consciousness as she was starting to get drunk.

Soon, she could feel herself being whisked away into a taxi with a group of fat, horny, smelly men. The next thing she knew, she was being thrown into the bed. She could vaguely hear voices speaking and even though she could not understand it, she knew she was in for a long and dangerous night. At this moment, she really regretted going to the club and not taking proper care of herself. Her guilt and regret started building up.

Some guys started groping Jia Qi and Jia Qi still tried to resist. She was struggling and pushing them away but was easily overpowered by the group of 4-5 men. One of the men, opened a bottle of vodka and forcefully opened her mouth and made her drink the vodka as if it was water. As she already had a large amount of alcohol in her system, she rapidly became drunk. The potency of the alcohol was enough to affect Jia Qi’s self control and soon, she was reduced to a cheap whore.

One of the men, Alfred, stepped forward and said, “It’s my turn. Let me have my go and then you animals can have her. We have the whole night so conserve your energy. Let’s show this rape meat why she is nothing but a whore and she should not be such an easy target for us.”

Alfred remorselessly thrust into Jia Qi from the front. Despite his fat nature, his thick cock managed to thrust deep into her. Due to the lack of self control, Jia Qi let out a huge gasp of pain and pleasure. Frustrated by her betrayal of her own body, Jia Qi was just hoping that the faster she fucks these animals, the faster they’d stop. How wrong she was.

“Ugh yes. This is how a rape meat’s pussy is supposed to feel like. Wet, some what tight and 100% used.” Alfred groaned as he continued thrusting into Jia Qi. Jia Qi instinctively wanted to struggle but she realized the situation she was in and she just let Alfred have his way with her.

With Alfred thrusting into her and Jia Qi moaning, the other guys surrounded her on the bed. Some were touching her tits. Some were already jerking off to her face. Some made her suck their dick as she was relentlessly being thrusted into by Alfred.

“Ah yes, this is excellent. It feels like you’re succumbing to your role as a cheap whore. It feels like you’re squeezing my cock tightly. But we are so used to our own whores doing this to us that we won’t cum that fast. Your pussy is our shared toy and we are all going to play with it very well.” Alfred said as he continued mercilessly thrusting into her.

Jia Qi’s breathing grew ragged. She felt chills of pleasure run through her entire body as the guys groped her all over. All rational thought flew out the window and Jia Qi started moaning in pleasure as her desires and inhibitions took over. She started to enjoy being a rape meat to these fat and smelly men.

As Alfred was reaching his climax, he pulled Jia Qi’s hands towards him as he relentlessly plowed into her pussy.

“Ugh, I’m going to cum. I’m almost there.” Alfred said as he was on edge as he was furiously thrusting into Jia Qi.

Within seconds, he stopped plowing her and a wave of heat that Jia Qi had never felt before ripped through her sore pussy. Alfred had unleashed a hot load of cum directly deep into her pussy. As he was shooting out loads of cum into her and experiencing fantastic pleasure as this was the first whore he didn’t pay for, Jia Qi was utterly humiliated as she had an orgasm for the first time.

As Alfred pulled out of Jia Qi, a smirk on his face can be seen as he said, “Maybe you should pay me for pleasuring you.”

As cum slowly dripped out of a pulsating Jia Qi, Alfred said to the others, “Have your way with her. I’ll be fucking her again in 20 minutes, so rape her hard and break her for me. I want her totally broken and used and sticky when I fuck her again in 20 minutes.”

Soon, Jia Qi lost track of time. She was swarmed with a whole bunch of fat and smelly men. She could feel her tits being squeezed hard. Her hands wrapped around numerous cocks. Her mouth being used as a fleshlight. Her pussy being pounded like there was no tomorrow. As her pussy was already loosened up by 4 guys before the next couple of guys, whoever pounded her pussy could easily enter her.

Jia Qi’s body was still recovering from the hot afterglow of being raped and the fat smelly men showed her no mercy as they gang banged the soul out of Jia Qi. Each men showed no mercy as they held their leader’s words to heart. To break her. Each cock roughly thrusted into her. Hard and fast. As each cock entered, each cock was drained fully when it was done. With so much cum in her, cum was spewing everywhere with each new cock that entered her cum filled pussy. At this juncture, it was almost like clockwork. In a span of 15 mins, multiple guys had emptied their balls into her and she had orgasmed many times within that 15 mins.

As the 20th minute mark approached, Jia Qi had already been raped multiple times and her naked body was covered in cum all over. Her make up completely ruined with tears and cum. Her tits were dripping with cum. Her pussy all filled to them brim with so much cum, she was oozing out cum at this point.

This time, Alfred stood over her and smiled at the masterpiece his goons and him have created. Jia Qi just lay there as if she was an inflatable sex doll. Alfred turned her over and scooped up cum from her pussy and the bed and used it to lubricate her anus. The moment his finger penetrated her anus, Jia Qi let out another gasp of pain and pleasure. She had never been analled before and this shook her to the core.

Alfred positioned himself and he pushed her body downwards. He forced her head down and arched her ass upwards to his comfortable position as he forcefully entered her anus.

“Ugh, finally, this is what I need. A tight anus. Oh yes, fuck this is good.” groaned Alfred as he slowly penetrated Jia Qi’s anus. He wanted to enjoy every bit of it. As he continually thrusted into her, Jia Qi was filled with pain. She could not stand the pain of being ass raped but she was helpless. The other men piled onto her, holding her down as Alfred had his way with her anus. As he was raping her anus relentlessly, he told his men, “We are going to have a competition. We will hold her in this position. The person who can fuck her the longest will get to keep her bra that’s filled with our cum.”

The men readily agreed and held her in position. Jia Qi was utterly helpless and could not move an inch. One of the men showed mercy and he filled her up with vodka, making her totally drunk. As she got steadily drunker, she lost sense of her reality and she soon lost track of what’s happening. She hardly knew what was happening and she was a slave to her pleasure.

Jia Qi moaned with pleasure as each guy mercilessly emptied their balls into her tight anus that did not seem to get looser with each guy raping it. It did however get more and more lubricated as more guys emptied their balls into her.

This went on for several hours and the men kept wanting to one up the other by fucking her longer and longer. Soon, Jia Qi lost consciousness from all her pleasure and her drunken state. Even after she regained consciousness, the men were still plowing into her. She ceased thinking and let her body go to these filthy men who had used every single hole of hers already. By the time daylight had hit, she had been raped multiple times in every single conceivable position. She had been double penetrated, gang banged, fucked missionary and doggy. You can think of it, the men would have done it. Jia Qi was never given a moment’s rest. Despite the men cumming over and over again, they still continued ravaging her as if she was an inflatable sex toy and her holes are their rape meat.

They continued raping her even through the morning until Jia Qi totally fainted and she did not regain consciousness. Even then, some of the men continued fucking her until they could physically cum no more. Once they were all done, Alfred had one final go at Jia Qi. He stood above her limp, barely alive body. She had so much cum all over her that she was sticky to the touch. He made the men prepare a herbal tea for her that instantly made her conscious again. Once she was conscious, he raped her with the roughest intensity he could muster. Jia Qi, not given a moment’s rest, realized that what she thought was a horrible dream was actually a nightmare that happened in real life and she was still living it.

Groping and slapping her, tightly squeezing whatever he was holding onto, Alfred relentlessly thrusted into Jia Qi, ignoring her pleas to stop it. The more she cried, the more turned on he got. The more she begged him to stop, the more he continued ravaging her pussy. At that moment, he made the guys video it down.

“If you want to leave here in one piece, you will continue crying and begging for help. If not. I will send this to everyone and your boyfriend. Poor cuck has been calling you all night. So I want you to beg for your life as if it depended on it.” Alfred said menacingly as he viciously plowed into her.

“Please, please stop. Please just let me go. I will give you anything, please just stop raping me and let me go.” Jia Qi begged as Alfred thrusted deeply into her, getting more and more turned on.

Alfred grabbed her face with one hand and spat onto her face, “Cry for me. Cry real tears and I will finally cum in you and we are done.”

Trying to cry, Jia Qi was still being forcefully raped by Alfred and for some reason, could not cry.

As a result, Alfred took Jia Qi’s phone, unlocked it using her Face ID, video called her boyfriend and live streamed the whole thing.

The End!