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para-imperium · 1 year

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Horizon: Rebult Ch. 11

Horizon stood up straight and concentrated on her enhanced senses, her augmented brain took in sounds, smells, vibrations, and magnetic signatures and compiled them into a three-dimensional map updated continually in real time. She couldn’t perceive any sign of more SWAT mechs anywhere near the warehouse, there were plenty of people walking about outside, heading back to work after the end of the long night. But they were alone in the warehouse, not one thing breathed in the entire building save for Horizon and Shawn.

Once the vole had healed enough to walk he staggered over to the container full of computers that Qali had shown them. “Oh good, it’s intact,” Shawn bent down to inspect the gold quantum core, right where Horizon had left it. The other machines had not fared so well, shards of plastic and silicon littered the floor and evaporating coolant billowed out of bullet holes.

Horizon fought back the urge to punch Shawn and smash the core, Jenny was gone thanks to this little venture, was that little ball and the data inside really worth everything that had just happened? But there wouldn’t be any point to smashing their prize after all they’d done to get it. She sighed and addressed Shawn, “let’s just go find the power lifters and get that thing out of here.”

“There are two security exo-suits lying unused just a few aisles down,” Samantha whispered to Horizon.

There’s corpses in them, Horizon thought back at her, a faint scowl crossing her features.

“Easily removed,” the AI replied. “And you won’t be bothered as much if disguised as a SWAT officer.”

Horizon tried to remember how much damage she’d inflicted on the armor, will we be able to repair them before reinforcements arrive?

“It doesn’t have to be perfect,” Sam added.

Shawn cleared his throat, “uh, are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” Horizon insisted. “Would a SWAT suit be able to lift the core?”

“I guess so,” Shawn thought out loud. “Wait, do you have one on hand?”

“I… took care of the other two SWAT agents,” Horizon said uneasily. She led Shawn over to where she’d left the exo-suits she’d cracked open, along with their occupants.

The vole looked visibly sickened at the sight of blood flowing out of the suits. When he actually knelt down to examine the hole she’d made in the suit the color faded from his ears and nose. “Oh, my archons,” he gasped. “What did you do to them?”

“I was in survival mode,” Horizon explained with a deep tone of regret. “I’m actually not sure what I did.”

Shawn gulped loudly as he peeled back the loose panel the cyborg had torn open. “Ugh, it looks like you ripped out a chunk of his back somehow. Are those his ribs? How strong are you?”

Horizon flexed her metal-tipped fingers, the fur covering them now substantially redder than usual. “Not strong enough to lift that core by myself. Is that armor usable or not?”

Shawn tried to focus on the edges of the loose panel, “I think so, yeah, it looks like you tore open an access panel rather than anything structurally important.” He stopped and tried to flick off some gore that had collected on his fingers in extreme disgust.

“Would you like me to remove the bodies for you?” Horizon offered. She didn’t want to touch the bloody corpses much either, but she felt responsible for them and that she could handle it better than him.

“No, I think I can handle this.” He found a release switch and popped the shoulder joints, causing the torso to open at the scapulas and release the helmet’s collar. Carefully he slipped the helmet off, revealing a white-furred canine face bearing a vacant expression with one eye still half-open, dead as a doornail. “Okay, that’s kind of freaky,” Shawn admitted. He shifted his hands under the corpse’s armpits and started to lift upwards.

As Shawn slowly lifted the body out of the exo-suit he started to make short sniffing sounds. “What’s that smell?” he inquired just before the odor hit her own nostrils.

She recognized the stench from a time on board the Dustbin when the waste recycling systems had broken down. “I don’t think you want to know,” she informed him.

The vole finished yanking the corpse out of the exo-suit, leaving a brownish-red streak on the floor as he dragged it away. “Are you sure you want to wear this thing?” Shawn asked.

Horizon imagined sticky biological substances sliding against her body, caking her fur, she quickly checked her jumpsuit’s integrity. When she saw that the last few tears the agents’ weapons had opened were all but sealed again she breathed a sigh of relief.

Samantha’s avatar appeared standing over the corpse. “You know, your immune system could handle any infections you might pick up.” She glanced down at the trail of biological matter leading from the exo-suit. “Though, admittedly, if we weren’t pressed for time I would advise dousing the thing in bleach.”

Horizon glowered at the illusion, “this here is why I don’t like you taking over!”

“Technically speaking,” the AI countered. “That was his job.” She pointed to the half-open jaw at the end of her tail.

“You’re attached!” Horizon retorted. “I wouldn’t have to deal with you if not for him!”

“Uh,” Shawn spoke up and the raccoon turned around swiftly to address him. “Who are you talking to?”

Horizon considered whether to tell him about her AI. She was fully aware that she might sound insane, but he had the microbots in his system too. Is he going to develop an AI like you? She subvocalized.

“It will take a while without a dedicated augmentation platform to assist,” Samantha informed her. “The brain-computer interface should develop in a month or two, but it’ll be the better part of a Jord year before there’s enough computronium in his CNS to support an AI shadow.”

Horizon grumbled, deciding that he needed to know. “My FedTech implants contain intelligent algorithms that initially formed a sort of artificial subconscious. A couple weeks ago me and Jenny managed to give it an avatar.” She watched as Shawn’s eyes slowly widened in dawning comprehension. “You should be fine for some months yet, I was submerged in a tube full of microbots while you just have the few that leaked into your wounds.”

Shawn stared back, mouth wide open in shock. “Are you serious? Is there a way to remove them?” He stared at the blood stains on the ground. “Wait, what are we trying to hack with the quantum core? Is it your microbots?”

“I don’t know exactly what it is,” Horizon explained reluctantly. “There is a data module full of Federation data that I strongly suspect was gathered by one of my crew mates.” She sighed, whiskers drooping. “As is it’s our best chance of fixing this.”

The vole started to say something, then stopped. He tried to object again but apparently couldn’t think of anything to say in response. On his third attempt he just said “okay, let’s just get that thing up and running and get out of here.”

Horizon lifted the exo-suit up and started finagling her way into it, she slipped one leg in and then another, trying to ignore the sticky feeling of body fluids covering her legs. The unpowered suit was incredibly stiff and heavy, she doubted she could manage this without her augmented strength. She presumed that there was some kind of scaffolding to help wearers get into their exo-suits back at the base. As she slid her right arm into the suit’s arm she finagled her fingers into the glove and tried to flex them, only to feel resistance from the material.

What’s going on? She inquired of Samantha.

“The synthetic muscles aren’t powered up,” the AI responded. “You’ll have to seal it up before activating the suit.”

Horizon tried to bend the arm back, fighting the stiffness all the way. But even with her strength she couldn’t reach back to buckle the shoulders shut. “Shawn,” she called out, “I’m going to need your help with this.”

Shawn slowly approached her from behind, trying to avoid the blood puddles. He took hold of the panel on the back with both hands and grunted, lifting the heavy panel up. “I’m certainly not as strong as you yet,” he grumbled as he fastened the shoulder clasps.

“With luck you won’t need to be,” Horizon commented as she flexed her left arm in the sleeve. “Now do the helmet.”

The exo-suit’s helmet dropped down over Horizon’s head, a blood splatter covered the lower left corner of the tinted corundum visor. As the neck ring sealed the raccoon tried to turn her head to the right, only to encounter the same resistance as when she tried flexing the fingers. Samantha? How do I turn this thing on?

“Let’s see...” Samantha trailed off. “It looks like the original wearers used a short-range wireless BCI to operate this suit. I should be able to brute force it in…”

Horizon waited for three minutes, standing stiffly in place. Well?

“This is military-grade encryption,” the AI retorted. “It’s still just Tiere-system junk but… ah there it is!”

The visor lit up with a half-dozen readouts and gauges: Power supply, suit integrity, power usage, weapon ammunition… Horizon curled her hand into a fist, the powered synth-muscle responded as smoothly as her own digits. She lifted one foot and began to turn around, heading back to pick up the core.

She found Shawn trying to push the core across the concrete floor, not finding much purchase on the rough-textured surface. He looked up as she approached, “Horizon?”

“Yes, it’s me,” Horizon replied. She reached down and lifted the quantum core with one hand. It still felt quite heavy, but manageable.

“You were still for a while,” the vole continued. “Are you okay?”

“It took a while for my AI to hack into the suit,” she shifted the core so she could carry it in both hands. “Honestly, I’m a little astonished that it was able to hack it that quickly.”

The two of them exited the warehouse carrying the core. As Tiere’s sun peeked around Surt the various people dashing to early morning jobs or leaving long night shifts largely ignored the figure in the armored exo-suit and her companion. They’d learned long ago that paying no mind to the work of the Company’s security forces was in their best interests.

Horizon and Shawn were less than a third of the way back to the van they’d borrowed from the Friendly Society when Sam got Horizon’s attention. “Problem,” she said. “It seems that Company dispatch has noticed us.”

What are they saying? Horizon inquired, worry showing in her mental voice.

“For the moment it sounds like they think we’re the officer who was wearing this suit,” Sam answered. “I’ve disabled the bio-monitors so they won’t report back your physiological “abnormalities.” If you want I could try passing as the officer and blame the unresponsive bio-monitors on battlefield damage causing a false report of his death.”

Horizon gave it a moment’s thought. Well, I don’t exactly have any better ideas. Maybe claim to have been knocked unconscious and the suspects fled before “I” woke up?

“That could work,” Samantha paused for a few moments. Horizon continued walking towards the van until the AI finally spoke again. “Uh, apparently the surviving officer reported, and this is a direct quote, “that ghul ripped out his heart and ate it!”

Horizon stopped in her tracks at that. Did I?

“Well, you didn’t eat it,” Sam’s attempt at reassurance was only half-successful. “Should I suggest that the survivor exaggerated?”

These suits have video recorders right? Horizon asked. Actually, she revised, it might buy us some time if you insist they review the video. She resumed walking, at an accelerated pace.

“Done,” Sam replied. She didn’t bother the raccoon for another half a minute before speaking up again. “We might have another problem now.”

What?

Samantha caused a bright red box to appear around the power gauge of the exo-suit. “At the rate you’re using power, there’s a good chance that it’ll be depleted before you reach the van.” Right after she said that the battery dropped from 14% power, to 13%.

Horizon did some quick mental calculations and slowed her pace slightly. This is just great, can you disable the tracker in this suit?

“It’s isolated from the suit’s main systems,” Sam replied. “I can try to find the component emitting the signal and block it or remove it.”

Slowing down her movement seemed to slow down the power drain, but it was still worryingly low as she passed the block halfway to the van. Horizon attempted to look up and around her, but the helmet restricted her view. She heard a familiar whine coming in from the distance and wrenched her neck in the direction of the source. Is that what I think it is? She asked.

“Heavy VTOL,” Sam confirmed. “I don’t think it’s one of ours.”

Can’t afford to save power then, Horizon started practically running, even as her suit’s power reserve dropped to 11%, then 10%.

“You’re not going to make it,” Sam cautioned.

Horizon kept on stomping along. How long before the VTOL arrives?

Samantha paused for several seconds before answering. “Based on the acoustics of this atmosphere, thirty seconds.”

And if we’re out in the open then we’re dead, Horizon retorted. They can blast us from the air, would we be able to regenerate from that?

“Fair point,” Sam admitted. “Okay, I found the source of the tracking signal, I’m about to short it out. This is going to burn a little.”

Horizon felt a searing pain in her right breast, but she ignored it and kept on moving. The core was starting to feel heavy again, whether from her exhaustion or the suit losing power she did not know. The VTOL roared above her, but did not stop and kept on moving.

The power indicator flashed 1%, but Horizon finally saw their van sitting around the corner. Shawn ran out ahead and opened the back up, Horizon dashed for that last three meters…

And the helmet went dark. The armor laid heavily on her shoulders and the quantum core threatened to rip her fingers off of her hands. But it was just a few more steps to go, she lifted one foot, and then the other, and slowly moved forwards over the protestations of her burning muscles. An eternity later she was only two meters away, 1.5… and the core slipped out of her hands.

The heavy computer landed on her armored foot, it didn’t cause any damage but slid onto the snow-covered ground. She stiffly tried to bend over to pick it back up, but couldn’t quite manage it. As she was trying to pick it up again the roaring of the VTOL returned.

Shawn dashed back to her and grabbed hold of the core’s handles. “Come on!” he shouted, just barely managing to drag the heavy device through the snow.

Horizon lurched forward, pushing the core with her armored foot. The VTOL grew louder as it approached, the cyborg pulled up her last reserves of strength…

Releasing all her strength in one last burst Horizon wrenched the quantum core off the ground and into the back of the van, then collapsed onto the fender. Shawn got behind her and shoved her forcefully into the van, then slammed the doors shut just as the VTOL screamed overhead. Horizon lay there, motionless, while Shawn drove them back home.

#sci-fi #fiction #transhumanism #horizon #scifi #cyborg #sciencefiction #sci fi #gore

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intrn37 · 1 year

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I posted 144 times in 2022

That's 144 more posts than 2021!

41 posts created (28%)

103 posts reblogged (72%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@fabulousatomicstarburst

@lettersfrombeyondthegrave

@revengeromance

@moldy-junk

@collarful-clover

I tagged 132 of my posts in 2022

Only 8% of my posts had no tags

#mcr - 21 posts

#my chemical romance - 17 posts

#xd - 8 posts

#mcr reunion - 6 posts

#gotham series - 6 posts

#gotham fox - 6 posts

#fall out boy - 6 posts

#oswald cobblepot - 5 posts

#gerard way - 5 posts

#edward nygma - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#my only questions are did she leave literally everyone else on the isle and if she let the other three tag along on her world conquest xd

My Top Posts in 2022:

Guess what I’m finishing!😆 #mychemicalromance #mcr #mcrfanart #dangerdays #killjoys #thetruelivesofthefabulouskilljoys https://www.instagram.com/p/ClOGesqr7ck/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

8 notes - Posted November 29, 2022

No Broadway musical songs really make me that sad or hit me hard except for one

And that’s Carrie’s “And Eve Was Weak”

It shows the impact of being overly religious and how it affects people around you.

I am Christian myself and I don’t see any problem with loving your religion openly or making it a bigger part of your life than other people. But this song is telling people about the impacts of being too religious, too dependant on the things they deem holy, to the point where they can’t even see a problem in front of their own eyes.

For example, Mrs White believes that periods are caused by sin and won’t even listen to Carrie trying to explain what Mrs Gardner told her. She’s so adament that what’s happening to her daughter is because of sin that she’s dismissing the fact that Carrie (who is right in front of her) is clearly distressed and confused.

And even if periods were caused by sin wherever they live, instead of comforting Carrie and calmly explaining things, Mrs White goes into a flying rage screaming about sin and how her (if I’m right) 16-year old daughter must repent for her sins! She even locks Carrie in a basement when Carrie doesn’t get on her knees and pray!

This is a prime example of over-dependence on religion. You become so blinded by the words you hear that you can’t even see what’s happening right in front of you and you think that any misfortune that happened to someone was because of their sin. And unfortunately it still happens in the real world.

Religion is used as an excuse and has been used for YEARS. It really sickens me that people can be so oblivious and cruel to others because “God said so” They use God and the bible to excuse their behaviour as “they will repent” and “nobody is free of sin”

And WELL, if nobody is free of sin then WHY THE FUCK are you condemning and snubbing these people who do sin in your book when you should be enlightening them and forgiving them if they’re not religious like God (the alpha and the omega himself) fucking told you to, NEARLY A MILLENIA AGO??!!!

15 notes - Posted November 30, 2022

If you have no money to buy band posters or your parents won’t let you, Paint the motherfucker yourself😂 #mychemicalromance #mcr #mcrfanart #dangerdays #thetruelivesofthefabulouskilljoys #thewidow #partypoison #kobrakid #jetstar #funghoul #thefabulouskilljoys #gerardway #frankiero #raytoro #mikeyway #mikeyfuckingway #wowthisisalotofhashtags https://www.instagram.com/p/ClkY4wvrHp_/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

16 notes - Posted November 30, 2022

Four ways of dealing with problems

Marc Spector: Leave it to someone else

Steven Grant: The someone else who's too polite to argue

Jake Lockley: Will tackle it head on even if it's dangerous

Khonshu: bREaK hIS wInDPipe!?!???!!!!**!!

36 notes - Posted May 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

A summary of Moon Knight characters

Steven Grant: Murder is wrong :<

Marc Spector: Violent croissant

Khonshu: “stupid pigeon”

Layla El-Faouly: #Goddess

Arthur Harrow: Rabid Fanboy

Taweret: The type of friend that makes people scared of them but is actually really friendly

Other avatars: Fucking oblivious idiots

Ammit: Sussy baka

Bonus:

Jake Lockley: Murder is ok >:D

65 notes - Posted May 25, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

Cool😎

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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yesimwriting · 3 years

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The Needs of Pain (part 2)

A/n since y’all liked part one!!

... i think i could make a part 3?? we’ll see lol

This is the LONGEST thing i’ve written on here wow,, and the smuttiest

Warnings: teasing, oral, unprotected sex (pls this is my first time writing full smut be gentle lol)

Exhaustion is an odd result of pain. I didn’t think I was that tired after the burn. I certainly didn’t feel sleepy while Kirigan cleaned my shoulder and brushed his soft lips and sharp teeth along my neck to distract me from the pain. Why am I even thinking of that? Of the way his breath felt against my skin, the way his tongue soothed any bites he left against my skin. I breathe out flatly.

Stop thinking of him. Stop thinking of him in that context--that’s why he did it. He enjoys getting under people’s skin, that’s why he’s always insulting the way I see the world. My hand reaches to my neck, touching my skin where I can still feel his lips on my skin, tracing the faint marks I had seen in the bathroom mirror.

I should have asked the healer to get rid of them before they fully formed, but the thought of showing them to anyone was too embarrassing to bear. I force my hand away, dropping it onto my pillow.

He had acted so strange today, he had been so blunt. It was a tactic. He wants to be in my head and I’m giving him what he wants. I sigh, rolling over and pulling my duvet further up my body. It’s too hot for this. Ugh. I kick the duvet off of my legs, letting my nightgown wrinkle up my body. Strong hands could pull the fabric up in a similar, yet much more euphoric way.

No. Who’s thoughts are these? The fact that I picture the same hands that dabbed at my burn earlier today has me questioning my sanity. I can’t sleep like this. Kirigan wanted to be in my head and now he is. Damn him. I can’t stand him which means I can never have him.

Desire has nothing to do with tolerance. The thought leaves my face warm and stomach twisted.

I sit up sharply, sliding out of bed tiredly. I’ll get some air and everything will be fine. The moon will clear my mind.

The Little Palace is strangely twisting at night, all long shadows and yellow lantern light. I slip out of my room quickly, but my thoughts are not immediately banished with the change of scenery. I must be ill. Infection must have set in regardless of my efforts and the healer sealed it beneath my skin and now it’s impacting me. Fever. I’m delusional with fever.

“I didn’t take you the kind for a late night trist.”

His voice leaves the hairs on the back of my neck standing like soldiers at attention. I manifested him the same way people manifest the devil. “Air.” My defense is childish. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d get some air.”

The sound of even footsteps leaves me frozen in place. “What keeps someone like you awake?” It’s like he can read through me. “Thoughts of me?”

He can never know. “Obviously.”

My sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed, he lets out an almost humored breath. “Or perhaps it’s pain.”

The comment is so confusing I almost don’t realize he’s bringing up my shoulder injury. How had I let him see me so vulnerable? Why did he seem somewhat concerned in his own way?

“My shoulder’s perfectly fine.” Good. A normal direction for this conversation to head. “It took the Healer all of two minutes.”

The touch on my shoulder is so sudden I almost jump. Kirigan doesn’t shy away at that, fingers firmly brushing down the skin. “It feels the same.”

I could scream. His strange observation means nothing to me, but the implication is enough to drive me mad. The implication that he knows my skin well enough to be able to judge whether the healed skin feels different is sickening. I’m tired of this.

I turn on my heels, all of my tiredness and irritation twisting in me. “Even if it didn’t, it’s none of your concern.”

“I didn’t realize you were extra irritable when you’re tired.”

Every conversation with him leaves me feeling petulant. “I’m not tired.” I cross my arms, keep my expression set. “I just--I wanted to get some air.”

“Hm.” He takes a step forward, preparing to close the small distance I’d managed to create between us. “And why is that?”

The question leaves me irritated in an odd way. A flat way. There’s a narcissistic entitlement in that question. An entitlement to my thoughts. I shrug. “I hoped it’d make me tired.”

Kirigan draws his eyebrows together, curiosity and something resembling amusement playing at his expression. “If you’d like to be tired, I think I know a few ways to be of assistance.”

A faint, aggravating warmth comes to my face. Not only did my lie earn me a ridiculous innuendo, it’s also trapped me in a corner I cannot escape. Healing from the burn had left me pathetically drowsy. There’s no way he can’t see through me, a tired haze has to be visible on my face. My eyelids feel weighted and I’m too distracted by my deep longing for sleep to hold onto irritation.

“I’m sure I’ll manage on my own.” The words are not meant to be a challenge, just a way to dismiss him. I don’t think he takes them that way.

He draws his eyebrows together, eyes threatening to lose that curious quality. Kirigan steps forward, I step back blankly, desperate to keep enough distance to keep what’s left of my wits about me. He ignores my reaction, taking another step forward. I take another step back. My back touches the wall. I am a mouse and he’s an excited cat.

“You don’t have to,” his voice is too low, too intimate, “I’m not sure that’s something you want to understand.”

My chin raises just slightly, a silent protest. “Dependency is a fatal flaw.”

“So is desire,” his reply is much too quick. “Desire is worse, because one can resist dependency based on pride...but desire, that is something that one sacrifices for.”

Maybe if I was less tired I’d bother to interpret his words a little more. But all I can focus on is his tone--the quality of it. “You sound heavy.” My voice is as light as the night breeze I was craving moments ago. “But you always sound heavy.” It’s the wistful observation of someone slowly disappearing. “At least you’re pretty,” I muse, falling more and more distant by the second.

Something soft breaks across his features, his lips quirking. “Pretty?”

I rest my back against the wall comfortably, eyes shutting without permission. “I’m sure I’ll regret that comment in a moment.”

He stays silent, but his presence does not disappear. I can’t tell if I’m glad for it. The warm touch on my shoulder startles me out of my drowsy trance. Panic has me ready to jump off the wall, but Kirigan brushes his thumb up and down my shoulder. His touch sets any skin that comes in contact with him aflame. I shouldn’t find the gesture so comforting. My eyes flutter shut again, my body relaxing against the wall. When my protest dies out before it begins, Kirigan shifts closer. I’m confused, but too at peace to answer. Something velvety and warm brushes against my collar. Soft and warm and electric. He’s kissing my skin again.

My lips part in hopes of arguing, but when his teeth graze the skin he already marked earlier I’m gone. My eyes shut again, but this time it’s different. Pleasure and drowsiness clear me of all inhibitions as his touch becomes more and more assured. I let him test me, his mouth moving against any and all exposed skin. I don’t even stop him when I feel his hands graze the hem of my nightgown, wrinkling it the way I imagined earlier.

“Kirigan.” I need to find my strength, but what’s the point of strength when his touch leaves me so warm? The only acknowledgement of my protest he offers me is the lingering squeeze of my thigh before his long fingers begin to graze towards the inside of my thighs. I have no choice but to let his lips brush up my neck, his teeth grazing my skin the way they did earlier today. “Kirigan.” I try to sound firmer, but he destroys the rest of my sentence before I have the chance to get it out. His teeth nip the base of my neck, ruining my protest for a second time.

Maybe if I was less tired I’d be able to fight him off a little better, but I’m so drowsy I had trouble thinking before he started touching me. My eyes shut in both bliss and exhaustion. His thumb presses into my hip. Something in me stalls as his fingers brush the hem of my underwear--testing me, challenging me. I open my eyes on instinct, but he remains unbothered, slipping his thumb beneath the only fabric that divides us in order to better grip my hip.

I stiffen because of how badly I want to melt. This is bad. This is insane. We’re in a hallway in the middle of the night and he’s General Kirigan. Whatever attraction I feel is another tactic to manipulate me.

“We need to stop.” The command is weak, my voice as dry as my resolve.

He angles his head in order to regard me a little better. His expression is one of mock confusion as he smirks. Actually smirks. “Stop what?” False innocence drips from his voice as he leans towards me, expression amused as his lips near my own. “I haven’t even started yet.” My eyes widen, something that amuses him. “Y/n?”

I’m left on edge. I’m left wanting. My lips part flatly, but words feel so distant. “Yes?”

“What happened earlier?” His voice is the kind of sinful that’s meant to coax. Kirigan brushes his thumb across my shoulder, eyes watching mine cautiously. “How did you get burned?”

I push against the sultry quality of his voice. “I told you--an accident.”

“Hm.” His eyebrows draw together in a surprisingly soft way. I stare at him freely, but he ignores my gaze, eyes locked on my newly healed skin. Is he truly that concerned? “Whose accident?”

I swallow once. “My own.” He still isn’t looking at me. “I’m not exactly the most coordinated person, you’ve witnessed my clumsiness yourself.”

Kirigan is not convinced. Perhaps he will never fully buy my partial lie. His grip on me hardens. Restraint. I may not be able to win against his paranoia, but I might be able to distract him. Cautiously, I move one hand forward, touching the hand that’s on my shoulder. I hesitate. Touching him without prompting almost feels too intimate. I’m being ridiculous. I brush my fingers against the back of his palm, letting my touch trail up his forearm.

“Y/n.” My name borders on a warning.

I suppress a smile, playing into my sleepiness as I tilt my head to the side. “Yes?”

He doesn’t reply, expression tightening as my hand snares around his wrist, pulling it off my shoulder with more care than I thought myself capable of. The intensity of his gaze is enough to burn me. I turn my full attention to his hand. I’d never admit this out loud, but this isn’t the first time I’ve thought about how objectively attractive his hands are. I kiss each of his knuckles slowly, brushing my lips against his skin tentatively.

To my surprise, he allows my indulgence. I glance at him through my lashes. Kirigan’s eyes are shut, expression bordering on pained. “Kirigan?”

He opens his eyes but his expression does not ease. His other hand leaves my thigh, grabbing the low collar of my nightgown with such a fierce speed it takes me a second to realize what’s happening. He pulls me away from the wall in a way that borders on violent.

“I don’t know who you’re protecting, but I guarantee you they’re not worth it.” The words are acidic. He’s seething. “I grow tired of your resistance.”

If he hadn’t transformed into something so untamed, I might have had enough gall to tell him I grow tired of being toyed with. I say nothing, instead I take in the abrasiveness of his anger, the tension of his grip on the thin fabric that clothes me. I am unflinching in my assessment in the most tired way possible, eyes struggling not to shut and body desperate to rest, but even more desperate for him. His eyes stare into mine, searching for something I am too far gone to offer. He must realize my sleepiness is genuine because he soon drops his gaze, taking his time in analyzing the even rise and fall of my chest as well as the hint of cleavage his grip on my nightgown is exposing. Pure heat finds itself in my face, chest, and worst of all---core. His staring lacks any shame.

Kirigan parts his lips as if to speak but then instead takes a moment to lick them. The thought of his tongue in relation to lips only makes the burning in me worse. It’s practically an ache. A needy one.

“I grow weary of your lack of understanding.”

Understanding? “What is there to understand?”

His head angles itself to one side but he doesn’t meet my gaze. The hold he has on me loosens just enough so that his hold on me is no longer taut. That should not disappoint me the way it does. I wait patiently, ignoring the bundle of unexplained nerves in my stomach as best as I can. Something strange colors his features when he finally looks at me again, something almost vulnerable.

“I brought you here.” He sounds farther from me than ever. “I…” His exhale is gentle, but his expression is quick to harden. “Who are you so willing to protect?”

I must be really tired because his voice sounds like it borders on heart ache. If I didn’t fear Arthur’s safety I’d tell Kirigan everything if it meant his pain would dissipate. I never thought Kirigan’s potential pain would bother me, but now that I’ve seen him look stricken by something so weighted--now that I’ve seen the way he wears pain--I don’t want to be the one to give him that. I want to be the one to give him some kind of sanctuary. The thought leaves me with a desire to flea.

“Will you just believe me when I say it’s no one?” In a way that’s the truth. Arthur is not particularly significant unless you’re a young Grisha female with a desire for heart ache. “No one worth mentioning at least.”

He’s quick to retighten his hold on my nightgown, leaving the fabric taut and more of me exposed. “You being desperate to protect them makes them worth interest.” A different response than I expected.

My lips thin. “Only because it was a small accident. They don’t deserve to be punished over the briefest loss of focus.”

I take his silence as an indicator that he is considering my words. His free hand finds my shoulder as he pulls me even closer to him by the fabric he’s gripping. “And if I were to revoke the threat of punishment?” His voice is the definition of temptation, low and promising and coddling me with its sinfulness. I still as Kirigan leans forward so that his lips are practically on my ear. “Then would you tell me? If I released you from the binds of your nobility?” My lips part but I have no words prepared. Before I can think of what to say, his lips graze the side of my jaw before his teeth nip at the end of my ear. “Tell me just to humor me.”

The command doesn’t make sense to me, but from his lips it feels important. “You won’t hurt them for what happened?”

His voice seems rougher than before, “Would that make a difference?”

“It would make all the difference.” I don’t like the honesty of my words.

Kirigan allows one hand to trail down my waist--a gesture I consider obscenely intimate when paired with the soft brush of his lips on my collar. “I already know who.” His voice is a dark hum. “I was always going to know one way or another--but it’s good to know you would have told me.”

My stomach lurches, dread pouring into me like tar. Before fear can force me to take action, Kirigan begins to leave open mouth kisses from the top of my jaw to the bottom of my neck, taking his time to assault any spot of skin with his tongue that he wants. This reminds me too much of earlier--touches meant to distract from pain with the use of pleasure.

“Are you--” His mouth is now on my collar, threatening to destroy my question. “Are you going to hurt him?”

At that Kirigan straightens. The sudden lack of contact leaves me cold. I shouldn't be thinking of him. Of his touch. “I’m curious,” he draws out each syllable, delighting in my nerves, “Would you bear his punishment?”

I’m not sure. I hate that. I haven’t known Arthur for that long, and while he’s kind, he also seems to see all women as replaceable. That isn’t reason for him to endure Kirigan’s punishment but I don’t know him well enough to just blindly agree to that. I loathe myself for not being noble enough to take Arthur’s punishment instantly.

“What kind of punishment?”

Kirigan’s expression twists into a greedy smile. He pushes me back easily, pressing me into the wall with more confidence than ever. I’m silent in my confusion until he presses himself against me and I feel something hard and bulging press into where I’m neediest. I stifle a gasp of surprise and something similar to pleasure. “I’m sure I could think of something for you.” I’d care more about my confusion if hot need wasn’t flooding my thoughts and my body with undeniable desperation. “I haven’t even spoken to him.” I exhale, untrusting relief desperate to escape me. Kirigan is quick to lean forward, lips brushing my ear as he prepares to whisper. “I’m more likely to harm him because he has your favor than anything else.”

Warmth burns my face. “He doesn’t--he’s not exactly the one that holds my favor.”

The heat of his breath adds to my burning as he presses his bulge into my core again. “And who does?”

I’m not sure what he considers favor, but if it has anything to do with wanting he wins. But he can never know that. “There are some contenders, but no one yet.”

His hand moves off my hip and nears my throat. “Would it be too bold to assume I’m on the short list?”

He’s two steps away from taking me in an open hallway, I doubt he finds much bold. “Do you want to be?”

Kirigan’s hand tightens on my throat. “I’ve made it clear from the beginning what I want.” His words are lethal and each syllable has him restricting my airflow a little more. Something in me must be broken because my neediness only worsens. “I brought you here because I see all that you could be. Forget being a Saint, we could be gods.” The sentiment is so raw it’s almost harder to bear than his tight grip on my neck. He leans close again, his scent only adding to my budding lightheadedness. “Say the word, and I could have you praising me like I’m already a god.” My stomach knots in both nerves and insatiable hunger. “Though I’m the one that would be doing the worshipping.”

My resolve is shattered, leaving me broken and twisting. He releases his hold on my neck in order to move his hand beneath my chin. There is nothing gentle about the way he jerks my head forward, forcing me to look into his eyes. Something about the look he gives me has me melting. His eyes are searching for something in me.

He must find whatever he’s looking for because I feel his touch against my heat, fingers pressing against fabric. I bite my lip on instinct, suppressing the sound of my undoing. Kirigan’s eyes never leave mine as the hand on my chin moves to brush against my bottom lip.

“I can only give you what you want if you tell me what that is.”

He exhales slowly, pressing his thumb against my lip downwards. My mouth parts on instinct, something that he takes well. His thumb enters my mouth slowly, taking in my reaction as I taste his skin on my tongue. Kirigan pulls his thumb away from my tongue slowly, a thin string of saliva connecting him to my mouth. With one swift tug, his free hand pulls the only fabric separating him from where I want him most down my thighs. His expression reveals nothing as his thumb, still wet with my saliva, is pressed against my core. His touch teases my clit, just barely brushing where I need him most. The whine that escapes me is so desperate I’m ashamed I can’t help it.

“So wet already,” his appraisal is gentle, the praise whispered against my throat as his lips brush against my neck. “So wet, so needy that you’d let me take you in this hallway and I’ve hardly touched you.” His finger presses further into me. I let out another pathetic breath. “A pity, someone like you--so painfully under cared for.” I’m reduced to nothing by his words and touch. “What I’d give to undue you here, against the wall--I’d have you crying so loudly everyone would know that I’ve claimed you, that I’ve made you mine.” Before I can reflect on his words, he steps back, pulling my underwear back up as quickly as he yanked it down.

I let out an instinctual whine. My hand moves to his arm, grabbing him like he’s the only thing keeping me tethered to the earth. “What--”

Kirigan squeezes my hand, a predator’s smile on his lips. “I want to feel all of you,” his hand squeezes my hip, “I can’t exactly do that against a wall, dove of mine,” he leans forward, lips brushing against my jaw in a way that leaves me chilled and melting at the same time, “At least not the first time.”

His whisper forces my breathing to hitch, a fact that he notices with an amused look as his thumb brushes against my collar. Kirigan pulls me away from the wall easily. Even the causal touch feels electric against my skin.

The walk towards my room is tense, his hands never leaving me as if he’s aware of how necessary it is to keep me distracted to ward off my better sense. When we reach my door, Kirigan opens it like it’s his. Entitled. Typical.

I step into the room, his touch lingering on my arm. A brief shyness pushes itself into my chest. I had let Kirigan touch me in a public space and lead me back to my room. The door closes. I don’t turn.

Kirigan’s hand squeezes my shoulder. “Shy, now?” His question is teasing, rekindling the fire beneath my skin as he places an open mouth kiss on my neck. He plays with the thin strap of my nightgown, pushing it off my shoulder. He kisses down my neck, collarbone, and shoulder. My inhibitions are melted away again. “When your breathing stalls like that,” his whisper is enough to elicit a desperate shudder, “I am left desperate.”

He leans forward, mouth trailing down my chest, coming dangerously close to my breasts. The electric current of his touch is all consuming and addicting. I press my back into his chest. His hands are the opposite of shy, touching me everywhere except where I’m most desperate. Kirigan’s hand places itself between my thighs, using his thumb to tease my entrance. I let out a needy sound. And then he retracts his hand, grabbing my shoulders and turning me in one swift motion.

“Kirigan.”

His eyes are dark, clouded by something I don’t understand but am too aware that I reciprocate. “Tell me that I have your favor.” His words are taut, bordering on snapping. Kirigan’s grip on me tightens hard enough to bruise, an assertive need taking over him. “That you want me.”

Desire, pride, and rationality twist in my stomach, leaving me too distracted to form words. My gaze drops to the ground on instinct, something Kirigan clearly finds unacceptable because he’s quick to grab my chin and force my eyes to meet his.

I swallow once, courage withering beneath the look in his eyes. It’s as twisted as a spindling shadow, but the look is fierce admirational, appreciation so deep I could drown in it. It scares and consols me all at once. “I want you.” There’s something pained about such powerful emotion. I loathe and am empowered by it all at once. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything.” The words leave my throat scorching with their sincerity.

As soon as the words leave me, he’s closing the distance between us, the slightest exhale of tension leaving his lips before they meet mine, prepared to devour me. I reciprocate his actions on instinct alone. There is no hesitation, no space, and yet it is not enough. Not enough and yet I don’t know how to be closer. But Kirigan does. One of his hands cup my cheek, coaxing me towards him as if I could possibly have the will to leave him. He steps forward, guiding me to step back. I obey fluidly until I feel something hit the back of my legs. It’d startle me if I wasn’t so consumed by his touch.

His mouth begins to move away from my skin. I chase after him, desperate to keep him touching me. He stops me by placing a hand on my shoulder, a warning about my neediness. I pout, but as he studies me I pant. Maybe the excuse for air was a good idea. I don’t fight the uneasiness of my breathing as I hold Kirigan’s gaze. He regards me with a patience I consider unbearable, taking in the determined look in his eyes, my swollen lips, disheveled hair, and the top of my night gown that’s half falling off.

It’s in this moment I realize how much more vulnerable than him I am.

If Kirigan notices any shift in me, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he adjusts his hand on my cheek, his thumb brushing the hot skin gently. “You are everything.” His voice is cracking glass. “Everything that’s good, at least.”

Maybe he did notice my initial reaction because I am no longer certain that I am the one that’s most vulnerable. “You’re better than you think.” I only say this because it would only weigh on me more to stay silent. “I see it and you don’t want me to.”

His hand continues to stroke my cheek. “I want you to see all of me.” The heavy beating of my heart seems to stall in my chest. Kirigan drops his hand before grasping the hem of my nightgown. He pulls the fabric upwards easily, bundling the fabric above my hip. “I want you to…” He exhales flatly, pulling the fabric upwards even more. Nerves flood my stomach as he leans towards me, kissing down my jaw. “To know me,” he whispers against my throat.

I am nothing but uneven breaths as he mouth moves down my chest, stalling only once he’s reached my breasts. He pushes me forward easily, guiding me so that I’m laying on my bed. He’s quick to move over me, kissing up my neck as he adjusts so that I’m against the headboard.

When he pulls away again, I’m left pouting. He grins, fueled by my disappointment. “Don’t worry,” he breathes, fingers hooking around the waistband of my underwear before tugging it down my legs easily, “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Being so exposed has my doubts flooding back, but Kirigan is quick to fight against my instincts in a way only he seems capable of. He squeezes the inside of my upper thigh before leaning down, pressing his mouth onto the skin his fingers just touched. His kisses here are meant to leave me even more desperate, each nip and fleeting pass of his tongue is lazy yet intentional. I am incapable of doing else besides letting out pathetic whines.

He ignores where I need him most, kissing up my thigh, across my lower stomach, and then down my other thigh. Kirigan continues the pattern across my skin, ignoring any pleas I swallow my pride to give. He is not rushed by my words or cries or the occasional desperate adjustment of my hips.

Kirigan lifts his head slightly, releasing my inner thigh with an obscene ‘pop’. “Patience.” His fingers trail up my thigh and over my core, teasing my entrance with his lithe fingers. “Unless you’re ready to beg?”

It’s a challenge, like everything else. The urge to give him my pride to satisfy the electric desire I’m not sure I’m capable of bearing. But then I note his tense hold on my thigh. A sign of restraint, of want.

“And if I want you to beg for me?” I don’t know where the words come from, but they charge the room with potential.

Something strange crosses his fingers before his lips tilt upwards in a dark way. “Would you like the strength of that? To have someone like me powerless before you?” My face warms. Kirigan leaves a lingering kiss on my thigh before he moves off the bed. I sigh at the loss of contact, but my tired neediness stalls at the sound of his belt coming undone. “I want to see you on your knees.” I sit up carelessly, desperate to obey him. I’m kneeling in front of him in an instant, taking in his length. The size of it has me gaping. “Open your mouth.”

I take the order more eagerly than I should, but I make no move to take him. This is just another challenge. I keep my eyes on his as I stick my tongue out before licking the bottom of his member all the way up to his tip. The sound he lets out is pure sin. I lick his tip slowly, each motion of my tongue is strategic as I finally place him in my mouth. I hollow my cheeks, moving up and down slowly.

The pace is not enough for him, he grips my hair from my scalp as he thrusts into my mouth. The motion is more powerful than I expected and I am left unable to breathe. My slight gag does the opposite of discourage him, he repeats the motion again and again, pushing himself into me until I can feel him in my throat.

The sounds he lets out are a chorus to me, but it’s not enough. I need more control, I need a way to make him beg. I raise a hand, wrapping it around the base that I cannot fit into my mouth. I stroke him once slowly, making a point as I try to push myself back in order to make him want me more.

He groans again. I make a point of pushing myself off of him. Precum protrudes his tip. I lick it off of him slowly. I lick up and down his member in the smallest way possible.

“Y/n,” the restraint in his voice fuels my teasing, “Tease me and you’ll still be overwhelmed by want when the sun rises.”

A pout tugs at my lips before I open my mouth again, taking Kirigan to my limit. He lets me set the pace of my bobs at first, but then he becomes desperate, holding me in place by the roots of my hair as he moans and thrusts into me without restraint. He ignores my choking as he continues until he throws his head back, letting out a quick praise of my name.

He finishes in my mouth and I swallow all he offers me greedly. I back off my knees slowly, throat burning as his member leaves my mouth. “On the bed.” He’s turned into something insatiable. “Now.”

I move back to my bed, laying in the same position as before. He takes his time approaching me. When he finally gets to me, he kisses my thighs easily. I let out a small breath before something that’s pure pleasure meets my core. His tongue laps upwards lazily, grazing my clit but not quite touching it. My hips thrust towards his face, but with hand he holds me down. A coil in my stomach continues to build as he angles himself more purposefully, tongue finally taking care of my clit. My gasps become less and less reasonable as he continues to lap at all that my body has to offer. The coil tightens, I see stars--and then, like cruelty personified, he pulls away. His absence leaves me ready to cry out.

My desperation only fuels Kirigan as he lines himself with my entrance. Concern twists my stomach as I consider how full my mouth felt when he was in me. I expect some level of warning, but he thrusts into me with no warning. I let out a pathetic cry, but that means nothing to him as he pulls out just to thrust into me with full force again.

“Only I can hurt you,” he demands, thrusting into me as I call out his name. My eyes water at the sensation of such fullness, pleasure and pain combining themselves in a way that leaves me incapable of thought. “Your tears,” he muses, one hand moving to wipe at a tear rolling down my cheek, “Are mine.”

His thrusts become more and more brutal, less and less even. Each movement of his body in mine leaves me begging for more and less at the same time. He continues until the coil in my stomach tenses to the point of breaking.

“Kirigan,” I manage, voice far away, “I’m going t--”

“I know,” he offers, “finish with me, dove.” His hand finds my throat, adding the slightest bit of restrained pressure. “And do not hold in your cries.”

Two more sharp thrusts have us both finishing, calling out for each other as we try to draw out the high of our orgasms together.

We stay intertwined like that for longer than we should, but then Kirigan stands. I envy his ability to do so. I don’t call for him even though I still don’t want to be alone here. A moment later, I hear him approach. I’m too drowsy to ask what he’s doing as a damp towel is wiped against my forehead and inner thighs.

When he’s finished cleaning me, some raw emotion settles in my chest. “Are you leaving?”

Kirigan hesitates. “Not if you don’t want me to.”

I roll over, the motion leaves my body aching. Kirigan accepts my invitation, crawling beneath my sheets and adjusting our bodies so that he can rest his hand on my back.

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lesbobiwan · 3 years

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Congrats on 100! 🥳 I was wondering if I could request #100 and Wolffe 💕

thank u so much for the request!!!

#100: "Call me selfish, but I don't ever want anyone else to touch you." + Wolffe

warnings: kinda public sex. you dont fuck in front of anyone but its kinda close, jealous sex, clothed sex, creampies

You could think of a million different things you'd rather be doing right now.

You'd rather clean the barrack bathrooms after the boys don't have the heart to turn down Plo's well-meaning attempt at cooking. You'd rather be dropped off on an abandoned planet and be told to find a way off. You'd rather be getting shot at by fucking Seppies.

But, no. You're here in this ridiculous dress for some party thrown in the name of the GAR's brave and selfless troopers.

What a load of shit.

As if any of those senators give a shit about any of these men aside from how a picture of them shaking hands will boost their approval ratings.

You know you were invited as a deliberate political move. As the only volunteer nat-born medic for the 104th, you make the war easier to look at.

Look, Senators will say while they point to you, we don't rely solely on the creation of clones who are made to fight and die for a war they have no choice in! We have regular people involved in the war too!

Again. What a load of shit.

It's sickening the way that these politicians will pretend to care about the well-being of the soldiers who fight and die for them when it will make them look good. These people, if you can even call them that, don't know what it's like on the front lines.

You can barely understand what it's like on the frontlines, but you see the aftermath. You see the shell-shocked shinies and the trembling hands of even the most veteran trooper after a battle gone wrong.

Politicians are a disease, you think to yourself, and the sooner you can get out of this ridiculous dress the better.

The only benefit to this is the free champagne and the way Wolffe acts as a deterrent to any smart Senator or politician that comes your way.

Dressed to impress in a sharp gray suit, Wolffe cuts an imposing figure next to you. The tight suit jacket makes his already broad shoulders look impossibly broader and the buttons of his dress shirt strain against the muscles of his chest.

Your dress seems to compliment Wolffe in every way. Your dress is mainly white, but the gray accents serve as a subtle call to Wolffe's suit. Claiming you as his, you like to think. The same designs etched into the cuffs and collar of Wolffe's suit jacket are present at the bottom of your dress, circling the hem before fading as you look higher up the dress.

You think you'd enjoy the night if it wasn't for the Senate's... everything. You may be in a war, but you enjoy looking and feeling pretty. You think you'd feel very pretty if the meaning of the night didn't make you feel sick to your stomach.

With the commander acting as your shadow for the night, you've had little trouble keeping pesky Senators looking for a quick fuck away from you.

At least... the smart ones.

"As I was saying, my father is one of the main beneficiaries of the GAR," the boy — and truly he isn't enough to call a man — prattles on in front of you, totally oblivious to your uninterested expression and the clone commander hovering over your shoulder. You think he might be a senatorial aide and his father might be the Senator?

You wonder if you should adjust the plunging neckline of the dress so that the hickey Wolffe left behind last night peeks into eyesight.

"And I tell him that he shouldn't waste our family money on this war. Honestly, there's no need for clones," he continues, eyes flickering to Wolffe before he turns back to you, "I mean, what could clones possibly provide that a real man can't?"

He leans towards you, and with his last few words he drags his knuckles lightly up your arm. A smile that he must think is charming slithers onto his face as he continues to caress your crawling skin.

"Better company, for one," you mumble into your champagne glass before you can cause a scene. You drain the rest of the drink before you say something stupid.

You don't think you muffle it well enough because Wolffe's shoulders shake in muffled laughter behind you.

"Would you like to dance?" The aide blurts out, and once caressing fingers turn into a greedy grabbing hand closing around your wrist.

Wolffe stiffens behind you, jolting against your back before stopping himself.

Your face morphs into one of distain before you can stop it, "Actually," you begin, yanking your wrist from a sweaty palm, "I promised Commander Wolffe my first dance," your smile is so obviously fake it's painful, but the aide doesn't seem to notice.

"Well, maybe after you're done with the trooper, we can —"

"It's Commander," Wolffe finally speaks up, and his gravely voice has goosebumps spreading across your skin.

"Excuse me?"

Wolffe's hand splays across the small of your back as he steps beside you, "I said, it's commander," he repeats, voice cold like stone. Fuck, it makes your thighs rub together beneath your dress.

The aide's nose scrunches up, "Yes, well, when you're done with the commander, maybe you'll come my way?"

What is it with men not taking a hint?

"No, I don't think so," Wolffe answers for you before the hand on your back shifts from just a grounding touch to a guiding one, and he's leading you away.

Your skin is alight with excitement. You look up at the commander, whose jaw in clenched in obvious irritation. It makes you feel guilty, but Wolffe looks extremely attractive when he's pissed.

"Wolffe, we just passed the dance floor," you whisper as he rushes you past the chunk of the room marked out for couples to hold each other close and sway to the music.

"I know," Wolffe says shortly, leading you to the nearest exit so fast that you nearly fall out of your impractical shoes.

He practically drags you out the door and into one of the hallways you know you aren't allowed to be in.

"Wolffe, where are we — Oh!"

The commander cages you against the wall, hands on either side of your head as his hips press flush to yours through your dress. You can feel the bulge of his cock even through the layers of your clothes.

He breathes in deep through his nose before he speaks, "You're mine, you know that, right?" he rocks his hips against you as he speaks, and you don't get the best friction through the poofiness of your dress, but it's his words that make your thighs clench.

"Yes," you whisper into the space between you, "only yours, Wolffe,"

And it's true. You are Wolffe's no matter the setting — battlefield or ballroom — and no matter the outfits — hard plastoid armor or dashing suits and dresses.

Wolffe stares down at you, breathing hard through his mouth, searching for something in your face before he leans down to crush your lips together.

He kisses you like he's fighting. It's vicious and he tugs your bottom lip between his teeth until you whine, and it's only then that he lets it go. "Call me selfish," he whispers in your ear before he flips you around so that your face is pressed flush with the wall, "but I don't ever want anyone else to touch you."

Wolffe's hands are desperate as he begins to wrench the layers of your dress up and up until it's all bunched up above your hips, leaving your lower half exposed to him.

He inhales sharply at the sight of the lingerie the women who helped you into the dress had given you.

You never know whose going to unwrap you by the end of the night, one of the women had whispered like a secret to you.

But that wasn't true. You knew exactly who was going to unwrap you.

"Fuck," Wolffe hisses, dragging one of his hands across the delicate lace that covers your ass. "You wear this just for me?"

You pant against the wall, hands scrambling for purchase as Wolffe leans down to bite the meat of your ass. "Shit!" you gasp, just a bit too loud for comfort.

Wolffe drags his teeth down the curve of your ass, nosing at the wet patch of your panties. "How long have you been this wet, pretty girl?" he demands, pressing the tips of his fingers against the wet lace over your clit.

Your hips jerk against him. It's exhilarating to thing that only one door and a left turn separates a room full of Senators and Very Important People from the two of you.

It's filthy what you're doing. You're sure if anyone were to see you — pressed face first into a wall with little regard for the makeup that was applied to you with more caution than one treats a bomb and your expensive dress hiked up around your waist to expose your soaking cunt, you'd single-handedly ruin all efforts to draw support for the GAR.

"Answer me," Wolffe spits out as he drags your panties down your ass to let them fall around your ankles. One broad hand swats at your ass, right over the pulsing bite mark he left behind.

"All night!" you sob into the wall, biting your hand to muffle the groans you want to let out. "As soon as I saw you in that suit!"

A part of you wishes Wolffe would turn you back around. You want to see him in that suit — want to watch his muscles bunch and flex beneath the delicate fabric.

Wolffe's huff of laughter blows a puff of hot air against your cunt, making you clench around nothing. "You like me in this suit, sweet thing?" He raises to his feet and you can hear his hands fumbling with his belt and zipper. "Well, I'm about to fuck you in it,"

You whimper into the back of your hand. Your own slick starts to drip down your leg. "Please."

The blunt head of Wolffe's cock presses against your entrance. Usually he would make you cum at least once before he fucks you just to get you ready for his girth, but in this moment you couldn't care less.

You want Wolffe to fuck you, and you want to feel the stretch. You want him to fuck the feeling of that grimy aide touching you out of your head.

"S'that what you want?" Wolffe breathes as he starts to slide in, "you want to forget that boy? Huh? You want to be fucked by a man?"

A keen catches in your throat as he sinks in halfway. Fuck, you feel like you're being split in half. His cock just keeps going and going in this position, and all you can do is take it.

You bite down hard into the back of your hand as Wolffe finally bottoms out, but Wolffe grabs your hair, fancy curls and accessories be damned, and pulls your mouth away from your hand.

"Don't you dare," he hisses as his hips set a deafening pace. "Don't you dare hide your noises from me. I want to hear you — I want them to hear you."

Your moan echoes through the hallway.

There's something feral in the way that Wolffe fucks you. With his suit still on, totally presentable besides the cock that's been pulled out of the fly, he's beautiful.

You, on the other hand, look filthy. Your eye makeup is smudged with the tears that Wolffe forces out of you, and you know your hair will be a lost cause by the end of this. Your dress is already wrinkling and your delicate stockings are ruined with the slick that drips down your legs from your cunt.

"Wolffe!" you cry out as pressure in your core tightens.

"'m gonna cum," Wolffe grunts, hips pistoning even faster.

He's ruining you, you think through the haze of pleasure. He's ruining you and you love it.

"Please," you sob, one of your hands leaving the wall to grab at his hips. You almost can't hold on due to the force and speed of his thrusts, but your fingers claw into the fabric of his jacket and you hold on for dear life as he brings you closer and closer to release.

"I think I'll come in this tight little cunt, what do you think?" Wolffe drags the blunt edge of his teeth along your neck and up your jawline, ending just under your ear, "Stuff you full of me, and send you back into that ballroom,"

You clench at the thought. Fuck, you want that so bad.

You're nearly incoherent with pleasure. You're just babbling in agreement to the filth that drips from Wolffe's mouth like the slick that drips from your cunt.

"You like that?" Wolffe asks even though he knows the answer, "You want me to send you in there smelling like sex and dripping my cum?"

One of his hands snake around to circle mercilessly around your clit. The pressure nearly has your knees give out.

"I think I'll keep your panties with me," Wolffe whispers in your ear, "so I'll drip out of that pretty cunt and down your thighs for the rest of the night."

The pressure in your core snaps and you cum around him with a wail.

Wolffe clamps a hand over your mouth as his thrusts turn more into grinds. His teeth sink into your neck as he finally spills inside you.

The feeling of his cum flooding your cunt has you clenching around him even more.

"Fuck," Wolffe hisses, fucking his cum into your spent cunt with an obscene squelch. "Fuck, you're so tight, pretty girl,"

You moan faintly, thighs trembling as he finally pulls out. A gush of his cum starts to drip out. You clench weakly, trying your best to keep it in.

Wolffe presses a kiss to the back of your neck, "Step out of your panties, sweet thing," he whispers into your skin, hands on your hips to steady you as you do what he asked.

You stand on coltish legs, wobbling in your heels with the aftermath of your orgasm, as Wolffe bends down to grab your ruined panties and stuff them in his pockets.

They ruin the line of his suit, and anyone who looks at him for more than half a second will know he's got something in his pocket that shouldn't be there, but you think no one will be looking at him when you're there.

Not with your hair a mess and mascara smeared just so around your eyes. Not when you reek of sex and sweat and there are bite marks littered across your skin. Not when your dress is so obviously wrinkled due to less-than-appropriate events.

Still, you walk back into the ballroom with your arm linked with Wolffe's and his cum sliding down your thigh and soaking into your stockings.

The senatorial aide doesn't bother you for the rest of the night, but that might have something to do with the clone commander flashing him a bit of lace from his jacket pocket.

When you get back to the barracks, Wolffe fucks you with those same ruined panties in your mouth to make sure none of the boys hear you two.

#ok. this one is my favorite #i love this so muc #if this doesn't happen to me once than what is the point #100 follower celebration #commander wolffe x reader #wolffe x reader

302 notes · View notes

fandomvariousness · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Levi x reader

Warnings: mild angst, violence, swearing, smut: slight dacryphilia, choking, slight masochism, slight dumbification, power play, unprotected sex

Summary: you’re an untruly scout in Levi’s squad and he let’s you know exactly how he feels when he pays you a visit during your punishment task

Word count: 3.6k

All hell broke loose if it was one of the worse days.

Your hot-headed disposition was a challenge to deal with in the first place, but if you felt a tad annoyed that day… Let’s just say punishments were as natural to you as breathing air.

It took slightest things to piss off Captain Levi – an irritated glance after he scolded you, a quiet remark you’d use to talk back and he, of course, would hear it. Simply put – you were disobedient. Yet even then you were an indispensable soldier – resourceful, intelligent, and absolutely fearless. Much like a wildfire – once you blaze, it’s hard to put you out.

Even so, Captain Levi eventually chose you to be a part of his new squad. Yes, he never encountered such an erratic human being that’s basically impossible to control, the traits that go against his every bullet point in describing a proper soldier, but he knew he would be an absolute fool if he’d go that massive potential of yours go to waste.

Countless times he wanted to kick you off the squad for being an unbearable brat, yet he didn’t. Often, you yourself wondered why.

✃

The squad has been on a minor expedition outside the walls for training purposes, so all of you were headed to the nearest cottage safe house.

After a tiring day of training, when the sun was setting down, you were all sitting outside, enjoying the last remnants of warmth in the air. Captain was sauntering inside the cottage, probably inspecting each crack and crevice after you all spend the first half of the day cleaning it.

It would be such a nice evening if Eren and Mikasa would argue a bit quieter. In fact, Mikasa was calmly saying something to Eren, while the latter, being basically as hot-headed as you, was arguing against her every word.

It pissed you off when they were like that, because it’s obvious Mikasa would do anything for Eren. Either he is so daft and doesn’t get it, or he doesn’t care. You never admitted to yourself that you’re jealous that Eren has someone who cares for him, while you have no one. Not even your family which was once very big – you had lots of cousins, aunts and uncles. Now, only you remain.

“Oi,” you exclaimed. “could you just tone it down a bit?”

Eren’s fiery gaze snapped towards you in a second. “Stay out of this!”

Now, you knew it’s none of your business, but you hated being talked to like that, much less ordered. You stood up in a swift motion from where you were leaning against a bench and turned your body to face Eren.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’ve no interest in what you’re crying about, Jaeger, but you’re not even listening to Mikasa, that much is obvious.”

Others were starting to pay attention too – they knew that when the two of you started bickering, often it’d turn into something more… interesting.

“You know what else is obvious?” he asked, his voice challenging. “That you act all brave and fearless, but in reality you’re just a restless child acting as if she lost her dummy!”

You felt that familiar tickling feeling of your temper rising, firing you up until you eventually lose yourself and act upon instincts that keep you alive and going.

You chuckled curtly. “Me? You’re calling me a child?”

Tauntingly, you’ve stepped closer to him. Eren knew that it’s not smart to wind you up like that, you’re still friends, good friends – it just so happened that you’re both in a bad mood today.

“At least I can wipe my own ass without Mikasa’s help.” you finished your sentence just before Eren grabbed a fistful of your collar and roughly pulled you flush against him, both of your impulsive auras conflicting with each other.

You growled as you pushed him away in a swift, forceful motion, earning a murderous glare from him.

It took so little to get you angry. Even though you pushed him away, that unruly part of yours stepped close to him again as you dug your forefinger in his chest in a threatening manner.

“Don’t touch me, you, whiny bitch,” you spat out, your voice dripping with venom – you were already blazing, and there was no going back.

Eren slapped your hand away. “Who you’re calling a whiny bitch? I wasn’t the one who cried into the pillow for two weeks after driving Reiner and Bertholdt away!”

Now, you can be reckless, wild, fiery… But Eren can be cruel.

The reason you were so devastated after finding out your two best friends were your mortal enemies was because with them you felt like you’ve had family again – both of them reminded you of your older brothers. You shared your feelings with Eren in confidence, and he just blurted it out in front of everyone.

“Fuck it,” you thought as you launched a punch at his face with a primal scream.

By now the others knew not to interfere in your fights, not even Mikasa. God knows they tried, and it made it even worse.

Eren fell to the ground with a hard thud before you quickly straddled him and lifted up your bent hand to launch another punch at his bloody nose.

The bastard was quick to react nevertheless as he met your fist with his palm and squeezed it, slapping you off of him with his free hand in a swift motion. The second your own body collided with the grass you were already scrambling with your hands and feet to get up.

As you turned to Eren with the intention to ram him to the ground again, he was already on his legs as well. The others were still shouting for you two to break it up, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before Captain Levi shows up.

Not thinking straight, you did exactly what you wanted, you launched yourself at him and picked him like a flower stem, both of you flying to the ground again, followed by a sickening thump.

Your vision was getting blurry from all the rage and adrenaline as you lifted up your fist, charged with savage energy, ready to collide with Eren’s already battered face, yet it never happened. It never happened because someone else was gripping your wrist so hard, almost stopping the blood flow.

You snapped your head back to see murderous look in Captain’s gray eyes.

Still gripping your wrist, he jerked you back like a rag doll, painfully sending you to the ground, away from Eren.

It fell so quiet you could hear the clouds passing.

Levi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I will kill both of you.”

“Right,” he continued. “when everyone’s going to sleep after this long, tiring day, you brats are going to sweep this house clean again. I don’t care how long it takes you. Eren takes right wing, Y/N takes left.”

He glared daggers at the two of you before going back to the cottage, just like that. It was actually worse when he didn’t say much – means he’s absolutely sick of you.

Still breathing heavily, you stood up, leaning on your knees with your palms for support.

“Shit, guys,” Jean muttered. “Shall we say our goodbyes now, or...?”

“Jean.” Mikasa snapped, shutting him up.

You glared at Eren who glared right back at you, although his eyes were already void of the rage that was previously residing in them.

You looked away without a word and made your way towards the cottage, wanting to wipe all the dirt and soot away.

✃

You stared at your distraught face in the mirror. Distraught by the fight you had with Eren, and by the fact that you got on Captain’s nerves again. How longer can you go on like this before he finally kicks you out?

You wiped your wet face with a towel as you heard someone come into the bathroom. Mikasa’s frame showed up in the mirror.

“Mikasa,” you spoke without hesitation as you turned around. “I’m sorry for what I said.”

Mikasa shook her head sheepishly. “It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not. You’re the most caring person I know and I used that to shame Eren, although there’s no shame in caring for your loved ones.”

Mikasa blushed as she set her eyes to the ground. “Everyone’s going to sleep already – you better hurry.”

“Right,” you sighed, feeling the jitters of anticipation.

You quit the bathroom and made your way to the cleaning cupboard to grab all sorts of supplies. At least the Captain was nowhere to be seen – you couldn’t bear his condemning gaze now. Not when you secretly always yearn for his approval.

You can’t help but stare at him a second longer than you should, or think about him when you shouldn’t. The fact that he hasn’t kicked you off of his squad gives you some material for thinking that maybe he simply doesn’t want to. There’s just something about him that makes you tense everytime you’re around him – not the dread everyone feels, but something else entirely, something that makes your stomach tingle.

You just finished cleaning all the dishes after dinner and was now sweeping the floor that was still clean after your cleaning tasks earlier in the day. That was the point of the punishment, you figured – clean the surroundings that are already clean, only to frustrate you.

You were kind of spacing out, the flashbacks of the fight with Eren coming back, rekindling the violent blaze within you. Everything was suddenly in your head again, pushing you to the edge. You closed your eyes and exhaled through your nose as you stopped momentarily, letting go of the broom and trying to forget how Eren just blurted out about your sorrows, how Captain glared at you, how everyone got to witness you getting unhinged again.

Hot flashes hit your body as you blew the stray ringlet of hair from your forehead, leaning on the dining table with your palms, desperately trying to calm down.

“Who told you to stop?”

Oh no… Really not the time.

You needed a few more seconds to stop the shivers as you opened your eyes and straightened your frame, facing Captain Levi, who was leaning against the counter.

It was precisely those few extra seconds that displeased him.

“Tsk,” he spat out as he straightened his frame. “Not only you’re deranged, but lazy too.”

You faced him with as blank a face as you could possibly muster, yet all your feelings were bubbling up, threatening to spill out with a little more provocation. You never wanted to rip off someone’s head so bad, until now.

You didn’t realize you’d squeezed your eyes shut until they suddenly opened with the sound of hard crash – Levi had purposely smashed a ceramic cup to the ground, shattering it to pieces.

You set your mad eyes on him, disbelief written all over you.

“Clean it.” he ordered. “Or are you going to disobey me again?”

You bit the inside of your cheek so hard you sure it was bleeding, breathing heavily, restraining yourself like never before in order not to pounce on him.

Instead, you repeatedly bit your lower lip as you felt your eyes watering. It’s better to cry yourself stupid before him than to actually hit him – then everything would definitely be over.

He stepped closer to you, your clothes almost brushing together, as he looked down on you with clear disgust, and… satisfaction?

You were so angry. He tried to demean you just now, and you were under immense pressure to actually pick those pieces up. You knew you had to, but you couldn’t bring yourself to.

You gulped. “You’re abusing your power.”

“No,” he closed in on you, making you step backwards until the back of your thighs hit the table. “I’m establishing my power, since you clearly don’t recognize it.”

He leaned his palms on the table just like you did moments ago, trapping you. Your heart was palpitating against your ribcage, yet for reasons entirely different than rage.

All of those glances and pushes and punishments now made sense – that was the only way he could think of to interact with you with no suspicion from others. He’d often chide you for the stupidest things, just so he’d have the chance to have a conversation with you, no matter how fleeting or unimportant.

Deep down you always knew it, and that’s why you’re continued being such a burden. Just so that he’d look at you and punish you again, scream at you, or kick the shit out of you again.

The atmosphere in the room has changed radically. You felt like walking on a string, about to fall off as his face was hovering just above yours, torturing you with anticipation.

“You wanted to beat the shit out of me just now, didn’t you?” he quizzed while slowly tracing your features with his stony gaze. Instead of answering, you gulped.

He grabbed your face harshly, puckering up your lips in the process. “Speak.”

“Yes.” you admitted before his hand slid down to lightly hang at the base of your neck, igniting whole another fire within you.

“Yes what?” he asked, adding pressure to his hand.

“Yes, Captain.”

At this rate, you’re going to burn out.

He chuckled quietly through his nose and stood up straight. “Go on, then. I’m ordering you to slap me.”

It was as if you just turned into a statue – that’s how shocked you were. “W-What?” you asked sheepishly.

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

You stared at him, trying to see him and his intentions through. Obviously, things were finally getting spicy, but your defense mechanism still rang some alarm bells – is he trying to trick you into something? Are you really going to bitch-slap the humanity’s strongest?

You felt your palms starting to tingle as he stared right into your eyes, challenging you to do it.

And you’re gonna do it, alright.

Something just snapped inside you, as it always does before you do something stupid or something you’re going to regret. You charged your palm with strength before sending it flying across his cheek with all your might. You whimpered as your skin came in contact with his, setting your palm on fire from such a harsh stroke.

And then it dawned on you – you really did bitch-slap him. He even stumbled one step backwards, his head ominously turned to the side, crow-black hair shielding his eyes from your vision, what absolutely terrified you.

He straightened his frame as he wiped a droplet of blood from his lip with the tip of his thumb.

You gasped audibly, making him look at you.

That’s it, you thought, he has a perfect reason to kill you now, and you were stupid enough to fall for it. You closed your eyes and awaited whatever’s to come, and it did come.

His lips came crashing on yours, both of you stumbling backwards, moving the table a bit. He immediately yanked you to sit on the wooden surface, positioning himself between your thighs as you held onto him for dear life.

He devoured you with hungry, open-mouthed kisses before you bit his lower lip, drawing blood once more.

One of his hands that were digging into your hips came in contact with your neck, squeezing it hard and pushing you away so he could see your hazy face.

“Savage.” he muttered after a few moments of taking you in, making your mouth stretch out into a lazy smile.

He pushed himself to you further, making your back hit the table as he attached his lips just below your neck, where jaw transitions to neck, coaxing a mewl out of you. He coaxed another when he rutted his hips against yours, making you aware of the growing tent in his pants.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, eyes closed as he sucked and bit little marks all over your neck. Hiding them is going to be a problem.

You took his face in your hands and kissed him deeply, rolling your hips against his in a tantalizing motion, whimpering at how his hardness brushes against where you need him the most, feeling him exhale into your mouth as his mind was equally clouded.

It felt like everything was finally coming to be exactly as it should, like you’d finally be released from your misery, like the intentions behind each of your actions would finally be clear, without any misunderstandings.

You were both impatient. No time for thorough build up, you just wanted to feel him inside you, just as he wanted to fill you up.

He drew back a bit, restrained by your legs snaking his waist as he rested his forehead against yours, panting heavily. “I’d really like to fuck you now.”

The fact that after all the crazy shit you’ve been through today he’d still ask for consent made you give it all to him. “Only if you do it so hard I can’t walk for days.”

You felt his dick twitch. “Easy.”

You yelped as he flipped you around, fumbling with the hem of your pants as he pushed them down to your knees, along with your underwear. You shivered as cool air hit your slick folds, and once again when you heard Levi fumbling with his own belt.

You wiggled your hips against him, impatient, almost crying out – you needed him that bad. His palm came flying against your behind, making you yelp loudly, gripping the edge of the table as you’re all sprawled out on top of it.

You whimpered again as you felt him brush the tip of his dick teasingly against your entrance. “Please, Captain…”

“So impatient,” he muttered silently before ramming into you without any warning.

Your nails dug into the wooden edge as you cried out into the air, holding on for dear life as he slammed you, table legs creaking underneath you rhythmically.

Levi had a perfect view of you as he rutted against you – the way your ass bounced flush against his hip, your arm muscles straining as you gripped the edge of the table harder and harder, the way the strands of your hair flew up and down with each motion, and how helplessly you squealed each time his tip hit your cervix – all of that sent him insane, unable to stop the silent whimpers that came out from his own mouth.

He had to restrain himself from going too fast – that’s how eager he was to finally sprawl you under him, after all this time you drove him out of his mind with your unstable behavior, hatred-driven glances and disobedience.

“Yes, yes, love it,” you wailed incoherently.

“Of course you do,” he huffed just before he grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head backwards, stars spilling out of your head.

The way his dick breached you was literally driving you crazy – it was like a perfect fit, slipping soundly against your walls and hitting all the right spots at exactly the right time. Your cunt clenched around him on its own, making him groan at your artfulness. His fingers dug into the plush of your backside, thrusting into you without any mercy.

The coil in your stomach was getting tighter and tighter, your brain short-circuiting each time you heard Levi groan, the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin ringing against the walls.

“Oh, God,” you cried out as your bliss was rapidly closing in on you.

“No,” Levi countered as he pressed his back flush against yours, brushing his lips against your ear. “just me.”

His head hung down, burying itself in the crook of your neck as he finally spilt his seed inside of you with a low groan that sent you to your own release. You cried out as he panted heavily against your skin, your body slumping on the table completely.

You had to muster up the remaining grain of your strength when Levi stood up and pulled his pants on so you could to the same with your own. Your breathing was still erratic as you fumbled with the pair of strings in the hem of your pants, trying to tie them. Levi approached you and lightly swatted your trembling hands away, tying them for you.

You were lost in his gray eyes by now, not even knowing what to say at first, but this silence that ensued was kind of comforting, both of you assessing the situation.

He chuckled suddenly. “Why did you beat the shit out of Jaeger in the first place?”

You smiled awkwardly as you shook your head curtly, gluing your eyes to the ground. “Doesn’t matter. Stupid thing, really.”

“Alright.” he said, his voice low, as usual. “You can tell me all about it next time.”

His words made you look at him again, eyebrows slightly lifted, eyes full of sudden anticipation.

Next time?

You were kind of scared at the thought of getting together with Captain again, but you felt excited way more.

“Oh, and like I said,” he paused before leaving the room completely. “clean it.”

You remembered the shattered cup and this time failed to refrain a smirk that creeped upon your lips.

“Yes, Captain.”

He left after that, but you swear you saw a ghost of a smile on those harsh lips.

375 notes · View notes

burnedbyshoto · 4 years

Text

I really hate you

— Shinsou knows he shouldn’t trust villains. Especially villains who make his mind spin and stomach twist in joy. But there’s something about you that keeps him coming back for more.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

pairing: pro hero!shinsou hitoshi x villain fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, a little bit of juicy plot, pro hero!au, reader is a villain, betrayal, biting, marking, collaring, cursing, hate sex, rooftop sex, body liquids, angst

word count: 8,180

a/n: i like deception :) being a chem TA is pretty fun, except when im in lab for 8 am until 4 pm. listen,,, I also really liked this prompt I made last night because the one I had before wasn’t spicy enough for me anymore. I hope you enjoy though! like comment and share for the algorithm (jk been watching too many tikytokys)

kinktober day 8 main kink: collaring

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

When the sun sets, and the moon is high in the sky, and the chill of the bitter cold winds raise ceaseless goosebumps on your arms, and the only people who are up are drunken businessmen and tiresome students, it is a common belief that this is when the freaks come out.

The freaks come out to play at night.

You are one of these freaks.

Heh.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Shinsou nodded at his friends as he walked through the doors of the agency he worked at. Despite the power of his quirks ability, he was an underground hero (unless the ultra-rare occasion where they needed his quirk in the limelight); he was stationed within a large, well-known agency and was one of the founding heroes there at that. His ability to be hidden from the bright lights of the world were both easy and challenging; most of the world knew him as the kid from UA’s Sports Festival that went toe to toe with nearing number one Pro-Hero Deku. It both irked and embarrassed him when that event was brought up; on the one hand, it was true! He had nearly beat Midoriya during that final stage. Yet, on the other hand, their memories seemed to recall some crazy quirk-fueled fistfight where Midoriya had broken his entire body in the duration of their fight.

‘No,’ he often found himself responding back to the gentlemen and ladies who would awe at his school-day adventures, ‘there was a fistfight, but Midoriya handled it without using his quirk except to snap him out of my quirk.’

They always looked embarrassingly horrified by their faulty memory when they pulled the clip up on Youtube, their bows quick in apology before they made off.

But people recognizing him from that was rare as it gets, fortunately even with the large agency stapled to his alias, he was quite good at his job—a shadow in the night, an urgent whisper to the villain freaks who roamed the night.

“Ah, Shinsou-chan!” Kaminari pouted, his body draping over his purple-haired friend as Shinsou moved to change from his regular clothes into the black triple-weave kevlar of his hero suit. He had once sported a black cotton-like costume akin to Aizawa, but after many, many gun shootings and stabbing incidents, he figured he needed something sturdier.

“What is it?” he asked, rising up from his bent position so that Kaminari couldn’t take advantage of his slouched form.

Shinsou’s tired, purple eyes met the exhausted pair of Kaminari.

“Today was so hard,” Kaminari sighed, his lip still put into the stupid pout, and he slumped onto the bench behind Shinsou. His feet were spread before him, fingers drumming onto his directional equipment. “Since it’s winter, the night comes sooo much earlier now. I swear some weirdos really appear out of the woodworks when the night comes! Like just before I was going to make my way back here, I swear I saw Aizawa-sensei hanging out on the rooftops like some super-secret ninja, right?”

Shinsou frowned. He knew his mentor turned friend was actually on vacation at the moment in Hawaii. Something he thought, at the very least, was long overdue.

“Aizawa is in Hawaii right now,” Shinsou quickly spoke, his hands buckling the belt on his pants, before moving to lace up his boots.

“Oh fuck, I told Todoroki he was in Seoul,” Kaminari cursed, the palm of his hand hitting his forehead.

“Good going, who knows what weird message or gift he’ll end up sending to Aizawa now,” Shinsou couldn’t help the small smirk from spreading on his face at that note.

After being accepted into the Hero Course over in UA, Shinsou couldn’t help but be initially disappointed when he was placed within Class 1-B — Class 2-B at that point — simply because his mentor was with Class 1-A. The initial disappointment didn’t last very long when he got to know the rest of Class 2-B better, and he saw that while 2-A possessed raw talent, 2-B were more well-defined with a much bigger take-no-shit mentality that he appreciated more. That and 2-A were being strangled by a new villain of the month far too often, and Shinsou just wanted nothing more than to graduate from high school.

Still, his lack of enrollment in Class 2-A didn’t mean that he didn’t see the rambunctious, nearly intolerable group of twenty in class 2-A. As a matter of fact, he thought he saw them a bit more than he’d like. Aizawa was his mentor, so he understood seeing him around, but for some reason, 2-A was never too far away. As soon as Shinsou was admitted into the Hero Course and the two hero classes had weekly meals together, which meant that to him, just the slightest bit, 2-A felt like an unwanted, annoying, ugly stepchild.

So no, Shinsou could not tell you 2-A’s inside class jokes, but he knew a lot more about the forty other hero students than he’d ever like to admit.

And through his knowledge, he knew that the ever so powerful Todoroki Shouto was an idiot, probably a bigger one than Kaminari.

“I hate that you call Aizawa-sensei just…” Kaminari trailed off, a disgusted shiver running down his spine as if it sickened him to remove the single formality.

“Aizawa,” Shinsou said once more.

“Stop.”

“Aizawa.”

“Hitoshi!”

“Aizawa.”

“PLEASE!”

“Shouta.”

Kaminari hit the floor, his chest heaving with fake, bitter sobs while Shinsou couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of his over-dramatic friend on the ground. He had to admit, Shouta felt weird on his tongue too.

“Stop making a huge deal about how Aizawa and I are closer than you are,” Shinsou half-joked half-told-the-truth.

He was more than well aware of his mentor’s former students trying to become even closer to their beloved homeroom teacher. All doing it in their own ways, all relatively unsuccessful because unknown to them (but not Shinsou), Aizawa already loved them all thoroughly, not that he’ll ever tell them.

“I DIDN’T MEAN TO SHAVE OFF MITTENS FUR!”

Oh yeah, that had lost a lot of love points for Kaminari.

Sighing softly, Shinsou placed his newly replaced coiled capturing weapon around his shoulders, and his artificial vocal cords mask onto his chest until he was off on patrol.

“Why’d you think you saw Aizawa?” he asked again, trying to finish the conversation so that he could leave. It felt like it was going to be a long night if Kaminari confirmed where his thoughts were already trailing.

“Hm?” Kaminari finally looked up from his puddle of tears on the floor, tears streaking all over his face, small charges of electricity humming off it. He blinked once, twice, his eyes shooting to the ceiling as if the answer was there before his fist came down to hit his open palm in a flash of realization. “Oh, I remember! There was this person, obviously not Aizawa-sensei, standing by the edge of a building watching everyone below. Hair whipping in the wind and his capturing weapon fluttering around them!”

Just as Shinsou thought.

“Where did you see her?”

“Her?!”

“Where, Kaminari?”

“Uh… well, I guess by Gramps convenience store. Don’t tell me this is some super sexy megafan of yours! Wait… do tell me, or… no, I’ll get jealous if you’re having rooftop sex with — eh?! where are you going?! Hitoshi?!”

“My shift started two minutes ago,” Shinsou explained, one of his hands lifting in a wave as he exited the locker room, his heart hammering quickly, knowing just who he was going to need to track down tonight.

…

It was dark.

Shinsou’s eyes squinting as he hopped from one rooftop onto the other, his capturing device assisting him in clearing the dooming crevice. He wasn’t exactly the most physically threatening, and unfortunately, that also meant he wasn’t exactly the greatest at parkour type movements, although he was getting better. Maybe had he started to ask for earlier shifts, where he would be out when the sun was, he could get better faster.

It was tricky with only the moonlight to guide him, but that’s what he could get at the moment.

As he scuffled through the gravel rooftop of one of the abandoned buildings, Shinsou found himself squinting at the figure in the distance. The one perched near what Kaminari oh so fondly refers to as Gramps convenience store.

He studied the form of the picture still person, noticing if it wasn’t for the slight wind through your hair and twisting capturing weapon around your neck, he would think you’re a statue. But he knows better now, he’s known better for quite some time now.

“What’re you doing out here, y/l/n?” Shinsou found himself speaking the moment he stepped behind you, hands shoving into his pant pockets.

You didn’t move, nor did you respond, your body still completely still while peering down at the empty world fascinated on who knows what.

“Y/l—”

“How can I help ya, Mindjack-senpai?” you interrupted him, your gaze still not removed from the world below the building. “I hear it’s supposed to be a busy night tonight.”

Shinsou paused, his brows scrunching at your words.

It was plain to see to Heroes that you were a villain, you did what you wanted when you wanted, whatever the price, but if there was one thing Shinsou had learned with this rather weird cat and mouse game the two of you played time and time again was that you didn’t lie.

What was happening?

“A busy night?” Shinsou questioned, his quirk still unactivated, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to Brainwash an answer out of you anyways. “Where at?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Mr. Hero?” you teased slowly, and Shinsou had to deny the way that the way your head finally turned to lock eyes with his made his stomach clench.

It meant nothing.

Nothing at all.

“You know what happens when you slight me,” Shinsou couldn’t help but warn, the bandages on his neck rising under his command. But your eyes blinked slowly, lips spreading into a lazy, cunning smile.

“And you know what happens when you underestimate me,” you returned, fingers gliding against his old weapon — yes, old weapon. Just two months ago, just before your last arrest, you had viciously stolen it from him, your foot crushing his vocal cords while you managed to pry the weapon from his broken fingers. “Anyways, Mindjack-senpai, it’s a bit unethical of you, a hero, to be threatening me in such a way! I’m just a poor girl waiting for the love of my life to show up.”

“And have they?”

You blink, a soft giggle escaping your lips as you nod, “I got him right where I want him.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Shinsou snapped despite the lick of warmth against his chest and cheeks. “I’ll have you arrested again.”

Now, this has you turning from the edge of the building, you sit on the ledge of the building, fingers supporting your head as you stare at him without fear. Shinsou really fucking hated how fast you riled him up.

“Arrested? But Mr. Mindjack-senpai, didn’t you know?” you ask, the taunt evident in your voice, the twinkle in your eye devastatingly bright. “I’m a changed woman. I’m what you call a hero now. You wouldn’t arrest an innocent heroine, could you?”

“You’re hardly innocent,” Shinsou responded back smoothly and deftly, not at all yet entirely impressed by you. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

He blamed his deep impressions of you on the stupid black and purple attire you wore.

“Well, you know as well as I do that I just got out, but I feel like except what happened two days ago, I’ve really changed,” you emptily promise, pushing off the ledge, sauntering closer to Shinsou until he felt the tip of your nose brush against his. “I’ll make sure to think about you whenever… bad feelings come up.”

He prays you don’t see the scarlet flush on his face.

You’re already back at the ledge when he blinks, and he watches you raise two fingers to your temple in a mock salute as you wink at him.

“You didn’t hear it from me, but two blocks east, seven blocks south from the heart of Tokyo is where you’ll find trouble,” you inform him, dropping the salute as you turn to run.

But Shinsou wants his damn weapon back.

“Y/l/n, wait!”

“Yes—?”

You froze at the ledge, your eyes spacing out, and Shinsou sighed, moving to collect his weapon from you until you suddenly dove off the building, a burst of cheerful laughter on your tongue.

“Oh, I forgot to tell ya!” you screamed from the next building over, your fingers threading through the alloy metal cloths. “I got some earbuds just for when you’re around! They make your voice into electrical signals just for me! So guess what?!”

Shinsou didn’t need you to complete that sentence in order for him to realize what you had just gotten your hands onto.

As long as you wore those, his quirk was useless against you.

Despite knowing that a villain held the key to his demise as a hero, he chuckled, running a hand through his short purple hair.

You really were something.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Shinsou never took himself as an especially suspicious person.

He figured he had days where he was suspicious of some people the correct amount, especially when they had the most painted on emotions he’s ever seen. Some days he was overly trusting and blamed tight smiles on something acute to nerves. Without meaning to brag, he felt like he was healthily suspicious of people, unlike others he knew who wouldn’t dare to interact with anyone new or would spill their darkest secret to anyone who would listen.

But there was something entirely, conspicuously suspicious with how you were behaving.

Winter had long passed, the long winter nights and graveyard shifts of endless freak encounters had worn a hole in his patience and boots. The spring season was beginning to end, and the warm days and nights of summer were setting on his skin.

Six full months of you, the first-ever villain he had fought as a Pro Hero, the first-ever villain to have openly flirted with him and to have him flirt back, being suspiciously… kind.

Every shift of his, he would find you waiting for him on one of the regular rooftops. Every time he would check in with the database to make sure you weren’t wanted for some crime to find that you were innocent. Every time he would feel pissed off because you wore those earbuds that rendered his quirk useless and you somehow mastered the capturing weapon within weeks.

Now Shinsou didn’t pout, he really didn’t, but there were moments where you would appear from behind him, finger swiping down his spine as you effortlessly twirled around him, a stupid sly grin on your face as you held onto the collar of his hero costume.

“Don’t pout, Mindjack-senpai, I’m here now,” you’d purr each and every time.

He loved the dangerous purr to your voice, the way your eyes hooded over, peering at him through your eyelashes, but he knew better. He had to know better. It wasn’t that villains were terrible people per se; he’d learned a lot of villains were just thoroughly sick of being mistreated (and he had wondered what would have happened if he had been denied from UA… would he be one?). He knew that for the most part, you were quite harmless, merely sticking your nose where it didn’t belong, living a life to your personal laws and rules.

It didn’t make you evil, merely dangerous.

But he had a job to do where even if it was justifiable to beat the ever-living shit out of your sister's abuser, nearly murdering him in rage and refusing to calm down when Shinsou had arrived on the scene with the use of his quirk didn't hold up well in court. It had started this long chain of events where you had absolutely hated him for a time as you were forced to stay overnight in a jailhouse. And many horrible days afterward where you performed what Shinsou had thought to be illegal actions only to find that no, they weren’t. As a matter of fact, entirely legal because Japan had yet to update their codes.

Long after he had discovered this, you had returned to actual crime, your physical ability growing by leaps and bounds as he ran after you after catching you doing something dangerously illegal. Shinsou was a proud hero and was incredibly proud of the impact he made as a Pro Hero, but it was clear as day, even to him, that he often let you slip through his fingers. Like a child opening their cupped fingers and wondering why the water had left.

He wasn’t sure what it was about you that made him act this way, but he certainly didn’t wish to find out.

“So what’s on the schedule today, Mindjack-senpai?” you asked, appearing from the shadows of the rooftop, not scaring Shinsou in the slightest as this was always where you greeted him. “Are we saving the Prime Minister today? Stealing — I mean, protecting those stupid bedazzled eggs in the museum? Perhaps solving an unsolvable case?”

“Smooth,” Shinsou snarked, his tired purple eyes piercing through your bright ones that seemed undoubtedly excited. “How many times do I gotta tell you that there aren't that many actual case assignments? Besides, most team-ups happen in the morning when I’m asleep.”

“Being a hero is so boring!”

“You’re not a hero.”

“Am too!” Shinsou snorted, turning on his heel and began walking away, listening to your footsteps running after him to keep up with his long paces as you cried that out.

“No.”

“Yes!”

“No.”

“Yes!”

Shinsou stopped, his eyebrow raised in slight forced annoyance but much more amusement, when you spun in front of him, hand on his chest, cheeks puffing with your heavy breathes.

“Look!”

Tilting his head back, Shinsou grunted when your phone was shoved in his face. “What is this?”

“Hero Commission Regulation Handbook, page fifty-four, Article three, sub-article twenty-three,” you chirped, turning your phone back to yourself so that you may read it correctly. “It states that besides attending hero school like a bunch of nerds, civilians have the option of securing internships with approved Pro Heroes and work side by side with them for six months! Once finishing their internships, said Pro Hero must simply sign my licensing papers and bam, a hero I’ll become.”

“And which sniveling hero did you get to do your dirty work?” Shinsou scoffed, not at all buying the notion that you of all people wanted to become a hero. A vigilante at best, an anti-hero much more realistically, and staying a villain as default.

“You,” you smirked, winking at him before turning on your heel and sauntering off, knowing full well the patterns of his routines.

Shinsou sighed, but he let a familiar smirk fall on his face as he walked after you, enjoying the way you glanced back at him with your wide clear eyes. But that suspicious, gut feeling didn’t leave his core, no matter how sweet and beautiful he found your smile.

“So, Mindjack-senpai, who are we apprehending today?”

“You want me to sign your paper this entire time, and you’ve been addressing me as senpai?” Shinsou commented, his weapon shooting off to a nearby building, snapping straight in his hand when it was ready. “Where are your manners? It’s Mindjack-sensei to you.”

He didn’t wait for your response, choosing to swing off the ledge of the building with no hesitation, but a part of him wished he could have heard the sound of your laugh he only seemed to hear through the streaming, far away air.

…

While usually, Shinsou didn’t have actual cases during his patrols, this job, after all, was much more spontaneous than anything else, today was different.

Today was different altogether, really.

First off, he showed up to work when the sun was still up just to get his meeting intel down in time for him to be out on the scene in time. He had nodded plenty, silently taking in Creati’s information on the drug cartel they wanted to in the next few weeks take down for numerous charges. The creation of dangerous, illegal drugs, prostitution rings, robbery, and murder being the main ones. It was some bigger stuff, so they needed all the evidence they could get.

Shinsou stared at the faces of the more prominent names of the cartel, studying every crook, nanny, and scar on their faces as Creati simply ended with where they focused down onto where their drug creating facilities were at, but still needed confirmation. “They’re pretty difficult to get to without knowing where they are,” Creati admitted, handing him a GPS. “You’ll need this.” He would be the first to start evidence gathering; after all, his old classmates would begin tomorrow.

So he had left, going to the first hideout and finding out it was completely empty. Not a single spec of evidence remaining, not a secret door or trap to get him to where they could be hiding from sight.

So was the next.

And the next.

Something sat weirdly in his stomach as he began walking towards the final one on his list, and he froze when he saw lights shifting and moving from around the building. Quickly, Shinsou hopped to higher grounds, his phone already out, ready to take pictures. He lay low to the rooftop, practically army crawling to get to place to place as he neared the windows on the rooftop, allowing him to peer in onto the building he was scouting to find precisely what he needed.

The entire building was a drug production spot.

His eyes scanned the building floor, singling out ten of the twelve main heads on the cartel, and he smirked. Perfect.

“Whatcha doing here, Mindjack-sensei?” your voice whispered millimeters from his ear, and Shinsou bit his tongue harshly to keep the instinctual scream from ruining his covert operation.

He snapped his head over to you, eyes slightly furious, eyebrows knitted tightly as he looked to see you leaning toward him. You were in a different outfit today, completely black, drowning you out in the night. He blinked; even the capturing weapon he had still been unsuccessful in stealing back from you was pitch black.

“What’re you wearing?”

“Do you like it?” you asked, straightening up and twirling for him as if you were wearing a magnificent dress and not personally created ‘hero’ clothes. “Ah, I hoped you would! Sorry, I had to get rid of the purple. I just felt it made me look too cute, right? I know I can’t have villains falling for me like you had me falling for you!”

Shinsou did not blush, no he didn’t, “shut up.”

“So what are we looking for today?” you asked, pressing down onto the floor beside him. Your arm touching his as pressed your face towards the glass. “Is this a stakeout?”

“Less stakeout, more information gathering,” Shinsou grumbled, typing some needed notes onto a file on his phone. It seemed to him that there was plenty here for the drug making charges. “We’re trying to get their bigger names caught in the action.”

“Oh, I thought heroes just burst in whenever they wanted, that’s what they do in the movies. Plus, you always threaten me with being arrested with no evidence,” you giggle, shifting closer to the glass, smile wide on your face.

“After saying that, say goodbye to me signing off that paper of yours,” he grunted, slipping his phone back into his pocket while you scrunch your nose at him. Shinsou couldn’t help but stare at you as the palms of your hands supported your chin as you hummed some song he couldn’t recognize.

“Ne, Mindjack-sensei, did you get the big boss?” you asked, your finger pressed against the cold glass, and Shinsou frowned, returning his head to the glass.

Right where you were pointing was, in fact, the head of the cartel. He was horrendously scrawny, holding no sense of fear or malice, and Shinsou wondered what his quirk could be that he was in charge of an operation such as this one.

“Oh, his right-hand man came too! All twelve are here!” you cheered quietly as Shinsou took documentation on his phone, and that suspicious rock in his stomach finally made sense at this second.

“Y/l/n?” he asked, head turning toward yours, tired eyes glinting with emotions he didn’t know how to handle.

“Mhm?”

“How did you know there were twelve main members, and how’d they look like?”

Silence.

Shinsou’s lips pulled back into a snarl, his canines glinting as he locked eyes with yours that were wide with shock and disbelief.

“How’d you find me—?”

He watched you lean away from the glass, fingers shooting to your earpieces. And with the inkling of suspicion sprinting through his veins, the purple-haired hero still found that he moved too slow.

BOOM!!!!

He blacked out when his body flew with the explosion.

...

Ringing.

Pain.

Numbness.

Shinsou could only hear ringing in his ears as soot and ashes fell down from the sky, falling on his body, coating his gaping, open mouth as he tried to breathe, trying to calm himself. Was he bleeding? Was he dying? Where was the explosion from? Were you okay?

His eyes blinked heavily, altogether so irregularly that Shinsou couldn’t help but feel he was out of his body when you reappeared in his sight. Your hand pressing to his cheeks sympathetically, eyes truly hurt as you shook your head, hand grabbing into his bloodied pocket to take his phone.

“I’m sorry,” your voice seemingly whispered, just loud enough for him to hear you through the ringing from the explosion. “You weren’t supposed to be here, Mindjack… these are the scumbags that hurt my friends and family. I couldn’t let them live. Plus… I didn't have a choice, they were competition.”

He spluttered, the warm goo of blood and saliva choking out of his mouth as he convulsed on the ground, his eyes watching as you went.

“See you later, hero.”

He tried to yell at you to come back, that you were a coward, a fucking menace that he would destroy the next time he saw you, but his voice failed to work. Nothing was working except his pain receptors, his heart that kept shoving blood into his lungs that he kept spitting up, but he saw flashing white and red lights as unconsciousness sank its jagged teeth into his neck.

An ambulance was here.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

It took four months to recover from the accident.

His hearing had been fucked up. Not even medical quirks had managed to save his hearing entirely. But hey, it did get him the chance for Bakugou Katsuki to come to his room, called him pathetic, and showed off his own hearing aid that he had needed since his quirk had damaged his own hearing. Not to mention that for the past four months, he had been teaching him sign language just in case.

He wasn’t alone, it seemed.

But it was four months, and he had recovered fully.

The hearing aid he required in his left ear still made his ear ache in pain, and he found that he liked it much better shoved in the back of a draw than anything else. But he knew it was dangerous to be a hero without his full hearing. If it hadn’t been for Bakugou’s trial through this all and the help of Hatsume Mei to create a more appropriate hearing aid for heroes, he wasn’t sure if he would still be here — working that is.

But today — or well, night — was a new day, and he was going to push ahead. He could do this, no sweat, no problem.

Well, that was until an all too familiar figure sat perched on a ledge on his usual route, legs swaying in the air as uncontrolled rage bubbled in his chest. It wasn’t entirely your fault, but a large part of Shinsou was embarrassed to have been caught up in all of this because of you. He had trusted you above all else even when his instincts yelled at him not to because he knew what it was like to be painted as a villain, and he had hoped by letting you in more, you would have changed. He thought you had.

But you hadn’t.

Not one bit.

…

You sat at the edge of the building, already having heard the loud crunch of Shinsou’s shoes against the gravel rooftop, but you didn’t turn around. You didn’t know how to face him, how to tell him that you were both sorry that he got caught up in your schemes, but that you weren’t sorry for what you had done. Those bastards had it coming.

“Give me one good reason not to push you off the building,” Shinsou growled, probably much louder than he intended.

Instead of answering, you shrugged.

You hadn’t brought the earbuds that would keep you from being immune to his quirk, and you slightly feared what would happen if you gave in to the whispers of his words. Would you blackout in a daze before coming back to normal only when placed in the prefectures jail? Would he actually attempt to kill you? You had no idea.

But you turned on the ledge, looking at his tired purple eyes that shook with his anger and betrayal. You had done a number on him.

“So, now you can’t seem to respond back to me?” he laughed bitterly, his teeth bared into a way too fierce smile, one that made your heart thump and sent a shiver down your spine. “What game do you think you’re playing?”

You still didn’t answer as you planted your feet back onto the rooftop and stood up, watching as his binds flared to life. Dancing and weaving around him in a dangerous coil of fabric, like a frilled dragon lion lizard extending its skin in a warning.

“Should’ve taken you down with that first time I found you,” he spat, his eyes narrowing as you took steps toward him, and the weapon seemed to snap at you. “Did your sister pull the same bullshit on him as you did me? Is that why he became ‘psycho?’”

Now that one nearly got the response out of you as fury thrummed through your veins as you were suddenly nose to nose. You couldn’t help it, but you knew there was no point in explaining your reasoning for doing what you did because he would never understand; he couldn’t.

So as his eyes flashed dangerously from your eyes, his breathing coming down harshly against your upper lip, the hatred he had for you (that was probably reignited from a year ago and make it double) simmered between the air between you and him. You couldn’t resist.

Your lips pressed against his in a simmering hot kiss.

Shinsou shoved you away, as quickly as you had pressed your mouth against his, but you were back on him before he could utter a word. Only that this time, he kissed you back with scalding, burning heat.

You never really knew how much smaller you were to Shinsou until you were on the tips of your toes to kiss him, his hands practically burning you as they gripped onto your hips, pulling you so close there was hardly any room to breathe. His kiss was hateful, spiteful, and full of unspoken passion the two of you had never addressed during the period that was good. It had been so good, but he was a hero, he would never understand.

His teeth bit harshly onto your lower lip, and you hissed, your fingers burying into his hair and tugging at the root of his hair as his tongue came and pressed dangerously against yours. His tongue was hot against yours, he was undoubtedly much more hotblooded than you were, and with his emotions heightened, he exhausted what.

Tongues clashed against one another, but it wasn’t even a battle of dominance; it was a battle to find who surrendered. There was to be no joy or excitement for whichever tongue prevailed, just the burning of the tears falling down your face and the acid taste on your tongue as he suckled on your pink muscle.

Your eyes were partially opened, watching his angry yet blank purple eyes meet yours, neither one of you allowing yourself to give in to the pure elation and sensation this was bringing. No, he wouldn’t allow it, and you wouldn’t have it.

The stubble of his beard scratched into your skin repetitively, feeling like sandpaper against your own skin as the kiss deepened, consuming the both of you on a whole new level as your crotches ground roughly against one another. Hisses and groans couldn’t stop pouring from your collective mouths, both of you hating yet craving more from this all. You couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if he spoke to you like this, would he do something to you while you were like this? So when his massive, thick hand made contact with the underneath of your ass, scooping up your leg so that your covered cunt could now correctly grind into his hard cock, the weapon you stole from him a year ago bound around his neck, choking him, collaring him.

“I like my bitches chained up,” you mocked against his lips, but somehow, someway, Shinsou liked it.

You groaned loudly at the way Shinsou gasped for air against the makeshift collar, your grin widening as you nodded your head, pulling away from his mouth as the grin became a smirk. “Didn’t think you wanted to talk when we were fucking?” you lied, teeth biting onto his lower lip and sucking on it as your hips oh so artfully bucked against his covered cock. You could feel the growing slick in your panties beginning to feel uncomfortable with the lack of proper friction, and your head lolled backward when he slammed your core against his, devilishly grinding against you.

He picked up your other leg and dropped the both of you to the floor, the uncomfortable gravel stone floor digging painfully into your back, but you could care less. Shinsou’s mouth was already back on your body, scratchy, scraping kisses placed on your neck, making you moan out, legs wrapping around his waist as you cant your hips upward to grind into him.

Unamused with the lack of his hands on your body, you took his arms that were planted at your shoulders and pressed his heavy palms on your breasts, avoiding the pissed look in his eyes as his teeth marked you painfully. You actually shrieked in pain. The feeling of his teeth tearing through the skin on your neck, while his finger kneaded and pulled at your covered breasts. It was unashamedly painful with how he played with your breasts. He seemed to grow happier with every sound of distress you made.

Fisting your hands back into his hair, you pulled him back to your face level, your eyes fluttered at the way his clothed erection carded perfectly between your sopping wet cunt. Blood stained his mouth, making his teeth slightly orange in tint, and you clicked your teeth in partial anger and pain as your neck throbbed. Slamming your lips back against his, you almost gagged at the taste of iron that soared through your senses as his tongue wasted no time to seek yours out. His lips and fingers were so ardent, manipulating your every body movement, cry of pain and pleasure as thrumming hatred for the stupid, stubborn hero above you still coursed through your veins.

Sweat began to form at your temples as your lips gilded against his, your hips snapping up to meet his grinding hips, and an airy response keened from his mouth as you moaned loudly.

His incessantly grinding hips were making your legs shake with stimulation, your whines and whimpers for more opening like a flood gate as you finally stuck a hand between the two of you and shoved his pants to his knees. You dropped your legs from around his waist, and he assisted you in ripping your pants off from one side of your body, the fabric still clinging to your right leg, but you could hardly care. All you wanted was for him to plant his cock into your blazing heat and to fuck you, to claim you here on this rooftop that started and would end it all. You wanted him, his cock, and him.

“Fuck me,” you begged into his ear, and his back shivered with your words. You hooked your leg around his waist, carding his hot, throbbing cock against your soaked pussy, as you rolled your hips. “I want you to fuck me, fill me with his cock, and cum deep within me to show me just how much you fucking hate me.”

You cried out when his hand shot down to his cock to line it up with your squeezing, dripping hole, his mouth once again covering yours, kissing you aggressively, fueled with an emotion you could taste as bitter hatred. Your legs trembled as the tip of his cock continued to press against your entrance, not entirely entering it, not giving you friction to send you into a euphoric end. You could help the snarl that passed through your lips, your eyes angry beyond repair as the head of his cock continued to deny you. Whenever you tried to grind down, to force your walls around his cock, he went down with you, he wouldn’t allow it, and your cunt clenched against nothing as he gave you nothing.

Shinsou wheezes out a bitter chuckle, his hand raising his cock from between your soaked folds to slap his heavy, thick, and long length against your throbbing clit.

Hatred and desire soak your body, and you needily rub your clit against his cock, your hands shoving up his shirt to feel the scarred pattern of his back as you give him new ones that were produced by your nails.

“Don’t tease me, hero,” you snapped, fingers tearing into his skin to draw blood. “You fuck my pussy so good, right now, or I promise next time you’ll go out with that bomb too.”

That seems to do what you want because before those words settle on your nerves. His cock penetrates deeply within you, bottoming out entirely as your head thrashes back against the gravel of the floor, throbbing pain from that entirely ignorable because fuck, his cock was stretching you out. He was so thick, so fucking veiny that you could feel the pulsating veins on his cock pressing against your puffy, sensitive walls. You scream his name as the pleasure-filled pain pulses within you, your hips thrashing, wildly bucking in your attempt to calm from the sudden placement of his cock.

“Why are you so fucking big?” you splutter, a whining pitch to your voice as you clawed at his back, trying to separate your joined bodies but also trying to get even closer. “It’s so big, my walls feel like! Oh fuck, Shinsou, it feels like Imma split in two!”

It seems that Shinsou holds some great pride over those worse, because he growled deep in his chest, and his hips begin to fuck into you. It sends your hands to the base of his neck, clutching onto his skin with hope as you scream in pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the wet squelches fill the air and tickle your ears. The head of his cock keeps dragging against your spongy wall, brushing over your g-spot over and over again as if he knew where it was, as if it was common knowledge as he fucked you further into the gravel floor. It didn’t even hurt anymore, your skin singing with joy as his cock fucked you stupid.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck me!” you whined, and Shiinsou made an approving noise.

He grunts as your cunt flutters and clenches around him, his balls hitting your skin in possibly bruising force and speed. And his pelvis crashing against your stings ever so slightly, but has you begging for more, sobbing for more.

Your vulgar words and moans are unstoppable at this point, your legs and thighs trembling as they are still circled around him, sometimes assisting you in coming up to meet his driving, drilling hips. You whine into his ear, your mouth pressing blind and sloppy kisses against his slick with sweat neck.

It’s when both his hands bring your hips up to him, his cock finally bottoming out entirely within you, does the most primal moan rip through your mouth. You convulse underneath him, trying to move as the head of his cock buries against your cervix, poking your womb with power and speed that has you swearing behind the blackness of your vision that this sensation brings. You can see the entire galaxy, the world lighting up when his cock leaves the thin wall, and you gasp, shocked that the heat and slick of your cunt is still going. You tremble underneath him, wordless cries pittering from your mouth while he bites on your earlobe.

You soon readjust to the numbing pleasure, the bruising pleasure, and pain that comes with his cock slamming against your cervix. The way that he thrusts up into you, stretching out your walls far more than you were ever used to.

A pathetic cry escaped your lips when he rolled over so that you were now on top, your body bouncing as soon as it could against him. You keened and whined, feeling the top of his cock licking your cervix, and you spluttered.

“Fuck this angle, this angle and your cock!?” you stammered, fists curling into his collar as you rode him, his hips snapping up into yours with that same animalistic power and speed.

His pace is irreplicable, near maddening with every successive thrust of his hips. Each snap, each wet noise sends you close to the edge, your inner walls clenching and milking his length with greater power as your senseless cries fill the night sky. His grip on your waist will leave purple bruises later tonight, you just know it, but the fire in his eyes as you lock fazes is enough for you to be okay with it.

Its intensifying, deepening, fire erupting in your core as your cunt throbs.

Sweat, tears, and spit fall from your face, and Shinsou surges upward, kissing you with everything he can. It's a maddening escape of lust and need and hatred being exchanged, saliva spreading between you, covering your hot faces with slimy coldness, But you keep him close, your mouth drinking him in more, begging for more as your tongue sinks into his mouth.

His fingers rake down from your back. Past the curve of your clapping ass and onto your powerful thighs that helped in your action to claim his cock. Your joined mouths, both parted in silent screams, wordless begs for more, branding curses that spoke of his hatred for you, your hatred of his job.

Fuck this, fuck that, fuck, fuck, “fuck!”

You held each other impossibly close. Despite the barriers of shirts and armor separating your chests, you swore you could feel his hammering heart flush against your chest. A steady, consistent beat reminding you that this was a one-time thing, that this was yet another bomb with only one explosion to it.

“S-Shit!” his voice finally managed to escape from the makeshift collar, and you nearly sobbed at the sound of his gravelly, husky voice.

You still hated him, you really hated him and his stupid deep voice.

Your back arches as the control you had on collar suddenly slacks, as if you had never had it there, and his own noises of sex, of hatred, of pleasure fill and echo in your ear. You can hear him mumbling something in your ear, your head pathetically nodding, tears streaming down your face only you can’t seem to figure out why. The throbbing pressure in your stomach made you near uncomfortable as his cock sank and disappeared from your cunt, your walls' vice grip becoming tighter and tighter and tighter.

There’s vigor, untapped lust, pent up frustration as he rolls you both around, pushing you back into the gravel and dives his length into your wet, loud cunt without mercy. You were overworked, over thrilled, the pressure of your coming orgasm snapping into your every fiber of your being, your toes curling, and drool seeping from your lips as he growled.

The noise seemed to resonate deeply in your own chest, and he pressed his sweaty forehead against yours, pathetic, needy noises escaping your lips as you stared into his angry, lusting eyes. And as he buried his teeth into your bottom lip, his nose scrunched in an aggressive snarl, he spoke with finality:

“Cum.”

You weren’t sure if you had suddenly fallen under the persuasion of his brainwash, or he just knew you were overfilled with pressure, but you went rigid in his hold, your eyes rolling backward, and your vision going white. You came in powerful waves, electric stimming vibrating through your entire body as your spongey, wet walls clamped around him, and Shinsou came in a guttural groan. His hips snapping into your with five last, robust, resounding thrusts until your trembling abdomen and thighs were stilled with his crushing weight.

You could feel his hot cum pulsing and thriving deep within your cunt, and you panted heavily, your body feeling alarmingly weak as the both of you lay there. A puddle of cum, tears, drool, pain, longing, and hatred.

He lays on top of you, his chest heaving with his breathing, and you felt frozen beneath him. The pain of the gravel roof no longer adds to your pleasure but rather is stabbing you in pain. It’s quiet as you lay there.

He’s quiet.

You’re silent.

“Why’d you do it?” he asked suddenly, interrupting the silence that you hated.

“I can’t tell you,” you admit, voice thick and heavy with untold emotions.

“You know I’ll have to arrest you, right?” Shinsou spoke softly, but he didn’t move to capture you, and you didn’t move to run.

What was the point? It wasn’t as if there was ever a fighting chance for the both of you. The world would have never allowed it, so why bother?

“I don’t think you hate me enough to arrest me right now, sleep on it,” you softly chided, your eyes staring up into the universe, begging to know why they made you a freak?

“Not right now, you spent all my energy,” Shinsou admits, rising up from you, his soft cock removing itself from your humming core, and you looked away to keep from staring. “I really hate you though, y/l/n. I don’t like liars or pretenders.”

“Convince your cock of it next time,” you couldn’t help but fire back, your upper lip curling in your anger and hatred at the sound of his zipping pants.

Silence and a beat follow your words.

“I’ll tell you this now,” Shinsou spoke, turning on his heels, his tone was cold, distant, like a stranger who could care less for you. “Don’t let me see you again. If I do, I promise you, I’ll send your ass to Tartarus. We’re no longer on good terms.”

Anger, hatred, and fury course through your veins as you stand up, legs weak, but spirit wounded as you pull up your pants, uncaring of his cum leaking from your slit.

“Don’t you dare show your face to me again! Next time I won’t save your fucking ass when I blow something up!” you snapped, the tears running down your face uncontrollable although your voice never gave it away. It didn’t have to though, he turned around one last time, and his eyes met yours, and the two of you glared and simmered.

But, he didn’t bother to respond back as he disappeared into the shadows of the night sky.

You collapsed onto your knees, exhaustion finally catching up with you, and you realized his capturing weapon you had stolen was finally taken back by the rightful owner. You fell forward, the tears and silent sobs muffled by your bitten lip as you stayed on that rooftop for an hour. Crying like a freak.

Truth be told, you weren’t even sure if you ever hated him.

...

Incoming Text…

New Text Message Received!

From Unknown: ↳ Good job, y/n. Phase one is complete.

#shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #bbs kinktober 2020

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shove-off-malfoy · 3 years

Note

“Be my date to the ball and I’ll make you look so irresistible that no one will be able to overlook you”

Drarry Anon Prompt -

-thank you for sticking with me I haven’t written in a while-

Draco found the note pinned to his weekly planner. The enchanted notice board was the first thing he looked at upon entering the office, so of course Potter decides to take advantage of Draco’s organisational skills and use a sticking charm to attach the note.

“Be my date to the ball and I’ll make you look so irresistible that no one will be able to overlook you”

Just brilliant. His handwriting looked as though he’d been forced to write the note at wand point, but the sentiment was there.

The notes had been showing up everywhere for the last week. Potter had been sitting at Draco’s desk when he arrived on Monday, with two coffees and a shit-eating grin on his face. He’d seemed on edge and Draco could barely tell him to get the fuck out of his chair before Potter blurted out something about a Ministry Ball.

“Another bloody charity event? I swear if they keep setting those up someone is going to realise that the money never actually goes to chari-”

“No, uh, not a charity thing. More of a ‘congratulations for not quitting the DMLE, we know we suck’ kind of thing.”

“Ah. Yes, those are rather fun. So what did you want Potter? To warn me in advance?”

Draco remembered how Potter tensed up where he’d atrociously perched on Draco’s desk. “I was thinking we could go together, you know, like as dates.”

Draco blinked.

“For a laugh.”

Oh.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s on Ron and Hermione’s anniversary so they’re not going and you’re kind of my friend now, so...”

Right. Such close friends. Draco had forgotten that he went from being hated by Harry Potter to barely liked by Harry Potter. It wasn’t Potter’s fault that Draco had experienced a rather annoying gay awakening at age fifteen involving the Boy Who Lived.

“Why can’t you go stag? You know the press eat that up.” Draco distracted himself by rearranging the paper work on his desk.

“I would prefer to go with you. Come on, we’d have a laugh.” Potter smirked.

“Well, I’m not even sure if I’m even going yet so assume I won’t be attending. At least I won’t be attending with you, Potter, now hurry along. I’m a busy man I have lots of very important work to do.”

Draco had waved Potter off his desk and out of his office, shutting it in his face before he could object. What Draco had failed to take into account was Harry Potter is not one to give up easily. The first seventeen years of his life were a testament to that.

Ever since their brief meeting, Draco had been finding the notes everywhere. On his chair, stuck to his paperwork as it came into his office, inside his sock as he went to put it on, in his coffee. Actually in his coffee. Thankfully with a waterproofing charm, but none the less, Draco could have chocked.

They were all along the same lines but this one in particular, was very mushing. Draco assumed Hermione had helped him craft it since Potter’s range of vocabulary was limited to uhs and ums most of the time.

Draco couldn’t unpick what Potter was trying to do. His invitation seemed like he wanted them to go as friends but the notes... Draco felt like there was something else Potter wanted. He couldn’t let himself hope, but he almost thought Potter was trying to woo him. And that is not a term he used lightly.

Thankfully, the next note Draco received narrowed down Potter’s motives to two. Either, he was indeed trying to woo Draco, or he was taking the piss. Draco knew this because the next note read like this:

His eyes are a grey as a lightning storm,

His hair is as white and a fluffy cloud,

I wish he were mine,

He’s really divine,

Please be my date to the ball now?

Draco laughed upon reading the note, and then a sickening feeling entered his stomach. Did Potter know he was the poet who wrote him that note all those years ago? Not his best work, Draco had to admit.

He balled the awfully structured lyrics into his fists and stormed down to Potter’s office. He rapped his knuckles twice against the hard wood, and waited.

“Come in.”

Draco didn’t spare any time. “What is this?” He held up the crinkled paper.

Potter swallowed. “Um. I’m not the best at poetry?” He said, as if explaining everything.

“Yes, that’s clear enough. What I meant is why are you writing me these notes?”

Potter put down his pen and stood up from his desk, running his hands through his hair in distress as though in a perfect word, he would avoid this confrontation with Draco all together.

He straightens his robes and perched on the front of his desk, looking straight at Draco.

If Draco were a braver man he could admit that Potter looking slightly disheveled, yet crisp in his navy robes, and focussing all that intensity on Draco, was insanely arousing.

“I have a confession. Ron and Hermione are attending the ball, I just used their absence to try and convince you I would be sad and lonely without you.” Potter looked down at this shoes and mumbled, “Which is still true, but, anyway.”

He clears his throat and looked at Draco again. “I don’t want us to go together ‘for a laugh’. I was just - stupid. And upset when you looked so shocked when I asked you to be my date, I just-”

“Froze up?” Draco prompted, slightly frozen himself.

“Yeah.” Harry huffed a laugh. “Froze up.”

“Well.” Draco looked down at the poem, his grip on the paper so flimsy since he’d lost the use of his muscles. “Are you saying that you’d like to date me? Outside of the ministry ball, and all. I just think we should be really clear, in case there a misunderstan-”

By the time Draco looked up from the poem, Harry had slid of the desk and pressed his back against the door. His hands were smoothing down Draco’s robes and adjusting his collar, an action Draco hadn’t previously considered to be sexy.

“If you want to, I’d really love to date me. I mean, have you date us. No- I want us to do the dating.” Harry stumbled through his words, reassuring Draco that even if his actions were smooth and confident, Harry was still the fumbling idiot who wrote him a shitty poem in an attempt to woo him.

Draco laugh and curled his hand around Harry’s neck, pulling him for a quick kiss. When they broke apart, he said, “I want us to do the dating too.”

Harry sighed in relief and whispered, “Thank Merlin, that poem would have been humiliating if you hadn’t said yes.”

“Yes, as the original poet, I can assure you that the poem is still humiliating.” Draco tapped Harry comfortingly on the shoulder and spun on his head to leave. “See you later, Harry.”

“Of course, Drac- I’m sorry, original poet? Draco Malfoy you get back here right now!”

Definitely not my best work, but I haven’t written anything in a while because I’ve been busy with exams. Thank you to anyone who reads this! (I’m sure there are some mistakes so please correct me!)

Sorry the prompts are taking so long, hope you still enjoy this short piece.

#draco malfoy #drarry #harry potter #harry/draco #drarry microfic #microfics #hogwarts #ministry #headcanon #hermione granger #ron weasley #auror harry #auror draco malfoy #drarry prompt #anon prompt

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blueluneacy · 4 years

Text

Bathed in Sunlight

oh boy. OH BOY! so i wrote that other kars fic and immediately wanted to write a sequel. so i did. i am going to drop dead this is all my writing energy for the week put into kars fucking

Word Count: 4.4k, holy fuck

Warnings: not sfw, marking, biting, kidnapping, yandere, stockholms syndrome, general nasties, slight breeding, dub con, threats, serious dead dove do not eat

Man, life really was kinda fucked up right now, wasn’t it? You sighed as you sat, trying to ignore the ugly feeling in your stomach. You knew that Kars was going to show up soon. He showed up every evening, bathed in the lowlight of the setting sun and just relishing in it, and god, you wondered if he just chose the time because he found it amusing that he could reach you in the light. Either way, it disgusted you. And yet, you couldn’t fight the way the sun slowly reached the western horizon, just as you couldn’t escape here. Not that you didn’t think about it, but the threat that Kars frequently reminded you of stuck in your mind, even if he didn’t have to say it. The blood that was on his shoes when he entered your room, or that you found tangled in his arm when he pulled you into a shared bath was enough. But that didn’t mean you had become the perfect little… pet? Partner? Spouse? You weren’t actually sure what Kars considered you, though you certainly considered yourself simply a trophy, a prize for his efforts, degraded and forced to be obedient, bent to his will.

Well, sort of. You found that Kars was just the slightest bit less stubborn than you, leaving you just the least bit of wiggle room. The two of you knew when to pick your battles, when to relent and when to put your foot down. Kars seemed to be worn, tired from his days of carnage and reforming the world, allowing you to bicker and squabble over things that didn’t really matter, such as what you had to wear for the day or what the two of you would eat. On the other hand though, Kars never let you make a peep over larger decisions, like what the two of you would do, or where your place was. You were expected to come to heel when he gave you that look, and you did, but not because you wanted to, but because you were terrified, terrified of what he would do, both to you and to the rest of the world. It was a terrible burden to bear, this feeling that every action you took had the fate of the world in the balance, but you couldn’t help your nature. You were stubborn, you were angry you had to be here, and you hated Kars for what he had done to you.

You told yourself that, at least. It was easiest to tell yourself that all you felt in your chest was hatred, that it was all that pang you occasionally felt was just disgust. If you continued to tell yourself that over and over and over again, it would become true. It had to be. But alas, there wasn’t time to think about everything like that, it only brought down your mood. Not that you could ever have a good mood in a place like this. While the cage was gilded, it was still a cage nonetheless, and although you were certain that whatever you asked for would be given to you, all of it was not without its price. You grit your teeth as you heard those footsteps echo down the hall, leaning against the windowsill as you looked out to the forestry that surrounded this new home. Kars loved to be surrounded by nature, but the forestry and mountainous range was also a good natural defense. Smart bastard.

You didn’t turn when you finally heard the door open, hoping Kars didn’t notice the way you stiffened up, continuing to stare out into the distance. You heard him sigh at the way you avoided looking at him, the way you tried to deny him of the prize he felt as though he had rightfully earned.

“You aren’t even going to greet your lover when he enters the room?” Kars’ voice was harsh, and you could tell he was not in the best of moods. Well, that just isn’t fair, you hadn’t even done anything to piss him off yet. But still, you sighed and turned, looking over at the man and sighing.

“Sorry. I had seen a deer, I was focused on it.” You lied easily these days. It seemed like you had become a lot better at it, your voice no longer quivering when you did, but Kars only adapted, taking in your lies and deciphering them all. It wasn’t that hard, really, you didn’t work hard to hide your vitriol, but today, it seemed that Kars pretended to buy it.

“I see. Well then, come here. It’s been a long day, I wish to relax with my darling beside me.” Kars told you, already moving to lounge on a loveseat in the room, beckoning you forward with a curl of his finger. You just sighed, pulling yourself up from your chair and moving on over to your so-called lover. You sat down next to him, only for Kars to simply roll his eyes and reach over to pull you into his lap, smiling when the only resistance you put up was a huff of annoyance.

“How was your day, my dear? I know you must be so lonely, being left alone without me…” He cooed into your ear. You just rolled your eyes.

“My day was quite pleasant, actually. I had just a fine time by myself, reading and trying to figure out how to duplicate myself so I can escape this hell.” You replied with a sneer, leaving Kars just to dig his nails into your hips, obviously annoyed.

“Oh, how wonderful. Well, that time has ended, so I suppose you’ll have to continue tomorrow.” Kars spat, and you knew that you should probably bite your tongue at this point, but you didn’t care. You didn’t want to be here, as much as a piece of you relished in how you were so close to Kars, clinging to him and safe from all outside danger in his arms. But you ignored that piece, reviled it, hoped that it would die out in your time here as you let poison drip from your tongue.

“Yes, I suppose I’ll have to remember how you murdered all my friends another time.” You replied, leaving Kars just to growl, turning you around and grabbing you by the chin so tight you wondered if you would have finger shaped bruises.

“Do you think you’re the only one who mourns, dearest? You forget that your friends struck the first blow, that… That your little friends killed the companions I had before your civilization was even an idea.” He let you go, and for a moment, you could actually see hurt in Kars’ eyes, a pang of guilt hitting your heart as you desperately tried to lock away, to keep yourself from giving into this obvious appeal to your emotions. Because he was right, you knew that. But still, everyone did what they had to do.

“You wanted to destroy everything. We had to do what we had to do.” You replied, shrugging as you looked away from the way his eyes bore into you.

“Yes. And so did I. The fact that you hold me to account for that when everything now comes into equality is truly hypocritical on your part.” Kars told you. You wanted to bite back, that he’s, you know, literally caused the death of millions, but before you could, he pulled you just a bit closer, pressing your chest against his. “It’s ironic, in a way. We are truly the last of our peoples. It’s only fate that we would end up together like this.” He told you, his lips moving closer to yours as he attempted to pull you into a kiss, but you just gulped, pushing him away in your panic, in your realization that no, Kars really did love you, and it was so much more sickening that you knew that in a way, he was right, your hatred of him was a little unjustified at the beginning. I mean, at this point in time, even if you threw out everything else he did, the kidnapping, threats of violence, and the fact that he was murdering all people who dared to challenge him was enough cause for hatred, but hey. You weren’t exactly concerned with semantics right now.

“I don’t care! I hate you, I really do hate you! You’re terrible! You can keep me here, you can torture me, but you can never force me to love you!” You spat, backing away from Kars as he grit his teeth, rising from his seat and looking down at you with an anger you rarely had seen.

“Oh, can’t I? You already are succumbing to me, I know you are, darling. You just need a little more convincing.” Kars replied, easily reaching over and grabbing you by the wrist and beginning to drag you onto the bed, ignoring as you squirmed and attempted to break free of his grasp. He just growled, throwing you onto the bed and easily maneuvering on top of you, pinning you down easily.

“You’re brave, but your stubbornness is simply pigheaded. Your insistence to try and fight every little gesture I give to you is infuriating, and I intend to put an end to that behavior.” Kars told you, his voice low in his throat. Before you could even bite back, his lips smashed into yours, all teeth and tongue. You weren’t quick enough to press your lips together, forced to submit to your lover’s kiss as he played with the collar of your loose fitting shirt. You whimpered, attempting to pull away only for Kars to lean in more, not breaking the kiss until he was satisfied. He smirked down at you as he saw the way you were breathless, panting and confused, swallowing as you looked up at the Pillarman, begging with your eyes for some sort of forgiveness. But still, it wouldn’t come. Kars just chuckled, easily tearing off your top with his claw like nails, leaving you to gasp, attempting to free yourself from his grasp once again.

“Oh, darling, don’t make me have to tie you up. You will let me do as I please during this, and you will enjoy all of it.” Kars growled, before moving his mouth to your shoulder and biting down, hard. You squeaked at the pain, taking deep breaths as you felt the vampire drink from you as he pleased. You could tell that he planned on making sure that the wound stayed and scarred, the idea of being marked by the man making you clench your legs together. God, get your head in the game! There was no way you could actually like any of this, and you were going to make that clear. To Kars at least, if you couldn’t make it clear to yourself.

“T-There’s no way I’m going to enjoy this… You can’t make me enjoy anything, you sick bastard…” You tried to sound at least the slightest bit threatening, but your attempt was pretty weak at best. Kars just hummed, pulling away from your neck and licking his lips. You saw the way your blood clung to his teeth and just shuddered, looking away as your face flushed.

“Is that so, darling? Well, we’ll just have to see about that…” He told you, releasing your arms in favor of reaching down and pulling off your underwear, carelessly tossing it to the side once off. You gasped at how he easily spread your legs apart, seeing how your body was producing just a bit of lubricant, a fact you quite wanted to ignore. Kars just hummed, running a finger along your folds to gather some up on his finger before licking it off. You just huffed, looking away as Kars chuckled at your dismay.

“Don’t look away. I want your eyes on me at all times while I do this.” His voice was smooth, sultry as he slotted his head between your thighs, your eyes widening.

“W-Wait, what are you-” Your own moan cut you off as Kars licked a long stripe against your folds, relishing in the way your thighs clenched around his head to bring him closer. You whimpered a bit, biting the inside of your cheek to keep yourself quiet as Kars easily lapped at your pussy, his tongue pushing inside of you before pulling out and moving to press chaste kisses against your inner thighs.

“How cute, you’re already clenching around nothing, pet. Have I been neglecting you? Oh, don’t worry, I won’t be making that mistake again.” He chuckled, before moving back in, pressing a finger inside of you. He was careful about it, fearing his claws would tear you open. You just grit your teeth, trying to stay strong, but god was it hard! Kars was obviously much more experienced than you, knowing exactly what to say to make you weak kneed.

“S-Shut up, you f-fucking- Ngh!” You threw your head back as Kars added another finger, the pad scraping against you g-spot. You panted as Kars took note, experimentally prodding at the spot and leaving you to moan. “Oh, pleasepleasepleaseplease-!” You moaned out, instinctually running a hand through Kars’ long hair. You were surprised to find that it was a lot softer than you imagined. Kars just chuckled, letting his tongue run over your clit before scissoring his fingers, stretching you open. When you realized that he was opening you up for his cock, you just clenched around his fingers again.

“There we go, perfect. This is what you should be doing, begging while I stretch you open for me. Such a pretty little pet, panting and mewling just for me.” He crooned, leaving you to whine. You wanted to argue so bad, that it wasn’t your fault that his fingers just so happened to feel amazing inside of you, but you weren’t sure that you could exactly make a convincing argument for that, especially while said fingers were still inside of you. So you chose only to respond with a soft moan, bucking your hips gently, unsure if you were trying to get him to stop or get more out of the experience.

Either way, Kars took it as an act of submission, moving back down to lap at the juices now freely flowing from you before adding a third finger. It actually stung a little, but the slight pain was greatly outweighed by the desire to be filled that was threatening to overwhelm you. You gripped Kars’ hair just a bit tighter, trying to pull him in closer as he worked you open, groaning softly at the way you just gave into him. But he was too slow, too teasing for you. You needed more, and now, but you didn't want to actually be the one to ask for it. No, that was a point of pride for you at this point, trying to calm yourself down as your body got hotter and more worked up, aching to be filled by this man who had ruined your life.

“K-Kars, I, oh god, p-please, I, oh right there, w-wait, n-no more, I, oh fuck!” Well, that attempt to try and get him to stop was great. You could barely get the words out, hips rolling against Kars’ face as he chuckled, the nails of one of his hands digging into the meat of your thighs.

“What is it pet? Do you need more? Do you need me to fuck you, to make you scream so everyone in this building knows who you belong to?”

No! “Yes!” God damn it! It was like your rational mind had been thrown out the window, consumed by the desire for Kars to fuck you, mark you, keep as his, safe and warm with him. “Please, I need it, please fuck me, please?” Your voice got softer, batting your eyes in the way you know Kars liked. When you felt like Kars was going to put his foot down on something, you tended to pull out those puppy dog eyes, knowing that Kars had a hard time resisting them. But, well, apparently those eyes didn’t translate to everything. Kars just hummed, pulling his mouth away from you but keeping his fingers inside of you, leaving you to just whimper as you saw your own juices on Kars’ chin.

“But, I thought you hated me, darling. Wouldn’t you rather I leave you alone, let you be here all by yourself?” Kars asked, his voice mocking in a way that made you just the slightest bit angry. God damn this man, he was really just going to make you say it, wasn’t he? Bastard.

“I-I… Please Kars. I need you, please. Y… You’re the one who made me like this, you have to take responsibility.” You told him, trying to make it sound reasonable, as if the two of you were actually arguing again, but this time you sounded so much more meek, your voice quiet and embarrassed. Kars just hummed, pulling his fingers out of you slowly, leaving you to whine in protest. He let his tongue lave along them before pulling you into a bruising kiss, watching as you just melted into it, wrapping your arms around the man and whimpering as you tasted your own juices on your tongue. When he finally pulled away, you were breathless, squirming and attempting to spread your legs wider. Kars relished in your submission, in the power he held over you, using your own body against you in his fight to gain your affections. And the worst part was, it worked. Really fucking well. You watched as Kars quickly disrobed, swallowing as he finally pulled himself out of his loincloth, before looking away. God, he was massive, what the fuck! You were ill prepared for that, this may be a mistake. But Kars just smirked at your staring, slotting himself in between your thighs and rubbing his cock against your slickened folds.

“Didn’t you ever learn it was rude to stare? Or is it that you’re so entranced by me that you can’t help it?” Kars asked, leaning in closer as he positioned his body to hover over yours, his mouth leaning into your neck and shoulders to nip and suck deep bruises onto them, basking in the idea of marking you for everyone to see. Of course, there aren’t many people left to see it, but the sentiment was there. You whimpered as Kars rubbed against you, teasing you as the head never actually caught at your entrance. You pursed your lips and dug your nails into Kars’ shoulders just a bit, trying to express your frustration, but the Pillarman just seemed to laugh.

“What is it, darling? If you want something, you’ll need to tell me clearly.” Kars told you. You just looked away, clearly embarrassed as you started to wriggle a bit, hoping to see if you could take what you wanted yourself.

“B-But I already said it once! Don’t make me beg you again, it’s embarrassing Kars…” You tried to play up your whole innocent act. You weren’t lying, it was extremely embarrassing, but you were certainly trying to appeal to Kars as you stared at the sheets. He just smiled, not cruelly but in a way that actually made your heart flutter in a way you wished you could suppress, leaning into your ear and cooing sweetly.

“Tell me what you want again, sweetness. I love to hear you tell me, I could listen to it over and over again. I want to make you feel good, I’ll need to know exactly what it is you need from me.” His voice was so gentle, enough to make you completely relax against the bed as you finally seemed to fully fall under whatever spell Kars seemed to have cast over you, blinking up a few times before finally responding.

“I… I want you to fuck me Kars. Please, make me yours.” You replied, a glaze coming over your eyes as Kars smiled, pulling you into a tender kiss before slowly pushing into you. Your eyes widened at the stretch, easily clawing at Kars’ back in reaction to just how massive he was. No matter how much you felt like you wanted this, poor prep was poor prep after all. But Kars moved slowly, pulling away and whispering into your ear how well you were doing, how greedily your sweet cunt was swallowing up his cock, how you were almost there, just a few more inches. When Kars’ finally bottomed out inside of you, you felt almost sickeningly full, holding onto your lover tightly and trying to take deep breaths as you adjusted to the side inside of you.

“So good for me, there we go. Such a sweet, tight thing, pulling me in. I knew you loved me the same way I loved you, you just were too stubborn to admit it…” Kars whispered into your ear as he started to pull out, before slamming back inside of you. You let out a gaspy moan, your head rolling back as Kars began a slow but brutal pace, making sure you felt the drag of his cock in every thrust. You moaned, resting your head on Kars’ shoulder before the bold idea of mouthing your own hickies onto him occurred. He growled a bit at the feeling, his pace speeding up just the slightest bit as you sucked on his skin, frustrated to see your marks disappear as quickly as you left them. You grumbled a bit, biting down a little harder and smiling as you heard Kars gasp, before leaning in and giving you a nip of his own. He was clearly amused by the whole debacle, but there was also a clear message that he intended to remain in charge here, and that anything you do should remain playful at most. But all you wanted to do was mark your lover in the same way that he had marked you, and when it seemed like that wasn’t going to work, you resigned yourself to laying your head against his shoulder, crying out your praises and pleads to the man.

“K-Kars, please, so good, more, you feel s-so good, so big, fuck, need you, please, mooooore…” You whined, on the verge of drooling onto his shoulder as the Pillarman adjusted his hips to thrust into you a bit more deeply, the head of his cock nudging up against your womb and leaving you to shudder.

“Heavens, you’re mine. All mine, I love you, mine, mine to keep and fuck and fill full of my children. Don’t you ever forget that.” He growled into your ear, clearly starting to lose some of his senses as his pace sped up, his hips slamming against yours as he grew more feral, his hands finding their way to your hips and digging his claws into them to leave pinpricks of blood to spill from your soft flesh. In return, you just cried out and wrapped your legs around Kars’ waist, trying to pull him closer as you began to near your end.

“Y-Yes, Kars, god! Feels so good, please!” You were practically mewling at this point, your voice heady and broken as Kars took what he wanted from you, and god, you couldn’t be any happier over it.

“Say it. Say that you’re mine, that you love me.” Kars’ voice was low, husky, more akin to an animal than to a human at this point, but you couldn’t help but stumble over yourself to comply, to try and please him in hopes of reaching your own peak.

“All yours, I’m yours Kars! I love you, love you so much, I’ve always loved you, god, please, I’m so close, please let me cum, I need you!” You whimpered, your declaration of love enough for Kars to wrestle your head off his shoulder so he could look you in the eye, and you vague were able to take note of the wild look he had in his own, something that should scare you but only made pleasure curl more tightly in your belly.

“Good, cum for me, cum all over my cock and milk me, make me cum inside of you, plant my child in your belly, cum for me, (Y/n)!” His voice steadily grew louder until he was practically commanding you, and your body more than happily agreed, immediately clamping down on the man as you tumbled over the edge. You cried out Kars’ name as you found yourself in bliss, whimpering as you heard Kars let out a throaty, inhuman sound before sinking his teeth into your shoulder, holding onto you as he came. You moaned, quickly finding yourself rushing to overstimulation as Kars filled you up, easily pumping you full of copious amounts of cum, to the point where your belly started to look just a tad bigger. You blushed as you felt some of his cum push past the seal of his cock, dripping onto the sheets and leaving a mess to mix with your own slick.

When Kars finally pulled out and pressed his lips against yours, you nearly collapsed into the sheets, tired and sweaty from your vigorous lovemaking. You knew that you should feel upset. Embarrassed, angry even, but all you felt was calm, serene and fulfilled as Kars laid down next to you and pulled you into his arms. You didn’t fight them, only closing your eyes and laying your head against his chest.

“The poor sheets are going to stain…” You mumbled, trying to find the slightest bit of reason you could still grapple at to get out of this, to fight the now dominant side of your brain that told you that Kars loved you, he protected you, and you loved him back. Of course you did, didn’t you always?

“I’ll have someone clean them tomorrow, don’t worry. Just get some sleep, my dear. I’ll be here when you wake.” He cooed, and you just relaxed in his arms, snuggling up. The words slipped out, really, without any control over them. No one could blame you for saying them, for whispering something that only the two of you would hear.

“I love you.” And Kars just sighed, leaning in to press a kiss on your forehead as you finally began to drift off to sleep, knowing that the two of you would awake bathed in sunlight, reborn as the new rulers of this world. As the lover Kars always envisioned the two of you would be.

“I love you too, sweetling. I always have.”

#kars/reader #kars x reader #jjba imagines #jjba x reader #jjba/reader #yandere x reader #yandere/reader #yandere fic #writing #My writing #mine #NOT SFW

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jeonsblackgf-writes · 3 years

Text

ONE PLUS ONE || 2 ||

✨Summary: Trials and tribulations of Vinnie and his gf

✨pairing: Vinnie Hacker x black!OC

✨genre: agnst, just a little bit tho, but it’s fluff at the end

✨word count: 1.6k

I really like this so I may make it into a little mini series.

_________________________________________🖊

Rhey's heart dropped as she started at Vinnie with wide eyes. He only sighed and ran his hand through this curly hair. Those words that came out of his mouth put her in a bad position, and she didn't know how to react to it. She was scared.

Vinnie was her entire life and the thought of him leaving made her feel some type of way. Anytime she left the country or state to tour, he was always with her. He never missed one tour. It's hard to be away from your significant other for a certain amount of time if you were always around them before. It's like a fish without having water, she couldn't survive. With her being a huge star like Billie and Ariana Grande, it was hard to find a steady foundation in her life when Vinnie wasn't around her.

".....Are you gonna accept it?" She asked quietly after a moment of silence, fiddling with her fingers, something she did when she got sad or anxious. Vinnie shrugged his shoulders.

"If I accept the offer...I have to move. I'm gonna accept it. This is huge for me,"

Rhey's heart stopped, "Are you fucking kidding me Vincent? You weren't gonna take it up with me first?"

"Why would I? I can make decisions like this on my own!"

"Vinnie, I don't want to sound selfish, but your life is here, you can't just leave. I mean what does that mean for us if you end up leaving?" She asked, getting right to the point.

Vinnie knew she was right but it still hurt that she made it seem like she wasn't going to support him during his decision making.

"What do you mean I can't leave? Your my girlfriend not my mom, I expect you to at least be happy for me, but you can't even do that! I made sacrifices for you, do the same for me for once!" He argued, raising his voice in the process.

"What sacrifices have you made for me other than the fact that you moved away from you and your friends old house which is 30 minutes away, to this fucking villa that WE BOTH picked out together! Please let me the fuck know!"

"All those times I've went on tour with you and I had everyone here with the United fucking States! That's one sacrifice! When you were sick so I had to cancel doing a video with James! That's two!"

"NOBODY TOLD YOU TO FUCKING COME WITH ME! YOU'RE THE ONE WHO ASKED! AND LETS NOT FORGET THAT I TOLD YOU NOT TO CANCEL AND YOU DID ANYWAY! THOSE WERE SACRIFICES YOU TOOK!" She screaming, pointing her acryliced index finger at him. He huffed and ran a hand through his hair.

"What's the point of us being together if you aren't gonna compromise. Addison sacrifices for Bryce all the time." He tried explaining, but all it did was make her even more confused.

"Please do not bring up that racist bitch in my household. I'm fine with all of your friends girlfriends EXCEPT her and Dixie and besides, she has the brain capacity of a fucking roach of course she's gonna compromise with him! You joined the Hype House and your mouth been getting real fucking reckless Vincent."

"Well...what are we gonna do then?" He asked quietly. He knew that if he left then it'd be over for him and his girlfriend and that's the last thing he wants but this was a huge thing for him.

Rhey closed her eyes as she tried to calm herself down. Everyone on her team knew how much she hated yelling, voice raising, or anything of that nature. It was in a rare occasion where she yelled or raised her voice angrily.

"I just want you to think about what you're doing. I don't have a home in Paris. Only LA, ATL, and NY. So how do you expect me to always come see you when my career still rapidly on go? How do you possibly expect this to work if you're gonna be living in Paris for the rest of your life—"

"Its not the rest of my life! God Rhey, even if it is the least you can do is be supportive!"

"Then HOW long is it? Do you know how Vogue deals work? Once you sign with the region, you can't permanently leave unless you visiting somewhere else. They need you at all times!"

Vinnie sighed, not knowing what to do. He loved Rhey immensely. She was the love of his life. They've been together for 8 years, and he didn't want all that to gown down the drain. No ever, but he was put between a rock and a hard place where he had to choose between his gf and being an actual model.

"I'm not trying to pry, I swear I'm not but I just want you to think about this. It seems like you really want to do it and if you do then that's fine. I will support you, if you don't then I will continue to support you. Doesn't matter to me, I just don't want you signing your entire life away halfway across the world away from your girlfriend and friends, but do what's best for you. Do whatever you want." She sighed, trying not to get emotional.

Before he could respond to what she said, she grabbed her phone and keys, and left the house in a hurry. He followed her outside and watched as she sped out of the driveway and down the street. Vinnie looked on life360 and saw that she was heading in the direction of the skate park that always went to when they wanted to talk and skate for hours.

He gets that relationships are never easy, and that it'll always be something that may or may not cause a break up. This situation just might make them or break them. He knew that being with your high school sweetheart after high school changes everything, but no one ever told him it was going to be this hard to the point where his heart aches and drops every time someone mentions them breaking up or even taking a break. There's a lot he can take, but to potentially not be with Rhey anymore was a sickening thought that he could erase from his brain.

"Ugh, Rhey why did you have to leave?" He mumbled to himself as he slipped on his shoes and grabbed his car keys. He got in the car and rode to the skate park, seeing her sitting under a tree. He was very surprised to see no paparazzi standing by taking photos and bombarding her.

Getting out the car, he grabbed two blunts and walked over to his girlfriend to sit down beside her. He gave her a blunt and lit it, then lit one for himself. She inhaled the smoke and blew it right back out after sucking it through her nose, dried tears on her face. Despite her high social status, he had never seen her so messed up over something like this.

"Do you wanna break up?" She asked, kind of catching him off guard. Vincent gave her a confused look

"What? God no! Baby you're the love of my life. I can't live without you! " He assured, pulling his girlfriend into his arms as he continued to smoke. It was almost 12 and it was completely dark outside.

"I can get you a deal out here. I've just gotta talk to the director and I can get you a 5 year contract. P-please don't leave me." She stated, her voice cracking at the end.

Vincent sighed, finishing off his blunt and throwing it away. He grabbed his girlfriend by both her cheeks with one hand to make her stare into his eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere, I promise. Do you understand?"

She nodded her head, making him show a small smile before smashing his lips into hers.

Once they pulled away, Rhey pulled out her phone to show Vinnie something. His eyes squinted at the screen and then widened once he saw what it was.

"You didn't..." He trailed off, his eyes clouded with tears. Rhey smiled through the tears running down her face and nodded her head.

Vinnie was looking at a photo on him on his skateboard, a photo she took of him. She used a picture of him as her album cover and he didn't know whether to cry or fuck her silly. He might end up doing both.

"That's what I wanted to show you when so got home. I finished the album, this may be my most personal album yet because each and every song is about you and our relationship. Guess what my last song is called." She laughed, waiting for him to respond. When he didn't have an answer, she showed him her track list and let him scroll all the way down. When she heard a small gasp, that's when she knew he had found it.

"Vinnie....the name of the song is vinnie."

Rhey smiled, but it didn't last long because Vinnie pushed her onto the ground with kisses, invading her personal space. He put more passion into the kiss as he rubbed her sides in a soothing way before reaching under her shirt to grab both her boobs, making her gasp, letting him indulge deeper into her mouth. He finally pulled away, giving her air to breathe, only to trail kisses down her neck and collar bone, sucking and kicking every crevice that she was sensitive to, not caring that anyone could come behind the large tree and see them.

He attempted to pull one of her boobs out but she quickly stopped him, not wanting to live life on the edge TOO MUCH.

"How about we finish this at home yeah?"

"Fuck yes! Let's go!"

#vinniehacker #vinnie #interracial #black!reader #black reader

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castiel-left-his-mark-on-me · 3 years

Note

Why do you hate Trump? Because Misha does?

Um, no.

I have never liked that orange megalomaniac. Long before he took office, back when he was just a failed businessman and reality television personality, I thought he was creepy, entitled and self absorbed. From his predatory comments about his own daughter (the interview he did just after she was born, saying that he hoped she’d inherit her mother’s large breasts) to his constant demeaning comments and actions toward the women in pageants he attended, to his conduct on his reality show-- which always seemed to be especially belittling to women and people of color ... I have NEVER liked him.

Then, during the entirety of his election leading up to his 2016 win, I saw the this country backslide through history, undoing decades of progress with his constant vitriolic rhetoric on anyone who dared disagree with him. This man mocked the disabled, bragged about abusing women, lied and lied and invoked fear and hatred of minorities as his only means of securing office. Anything even vaguely resembling a political-claim never came to fruition. He didn’t complete his wall, and Mexico didn’t pay for it. He didn’t “drain the swamp” in the government, and he didn’t revamp middle-America, giving new life to the average blue collar citizen, ultimately “making America great again”. And whenever he failed to do any of these things, he just blamed the democrats. As if simply blaming someone else for his failings, explained everything away ... and his followers believed him. He constantly tricked people into buying into his hatred, to the point of him being no better than a cult leader at the end of his term. And just like a cult leader, he was able to brainwash his people into going far beyond the realm of morality-- something that they would not have done otherwise. If he were truly interested in the politics of this nation, and if he truly cared about this nations’ people-- even if it were just for the ones who supported him, he would not have run his entire presidency on the basis of hate, because all that did was make this country a regressive joke in the eyes of the world, and in the eyes of so many of its citizens-- and it ultimately led to the death of so many of its citizens.

Over these last two elections, it became obvious that Trump would say or do anything just to win--showcasing how he truly doesn’t care for anyone besides himself. I was stunned when people actually praised him as being a religious, God-fearing man when time and time again, he showed us that he was morally reprehensible. I was sickened when he would flip flip on issues just to gain favor of whoever happened to be sitting in front of him at the time, and I was ashamed that so many people could overlook his obvious shortcomings as a leader (or even-- just as a good human being) because their own deeply ingrained prejudices against people of color and women were too strong.

The people who put him in office were also the racists that hated Obama because he was black, and the sexists who hated Hilary because she was a woman. That’s it ... that’s all that mattered to them. It had nothing to do with politics. If it did, those same people would have abandoned Trump a long time ago because none of the promises he made to them, came to be.

I wish that this was solely a political argument, because if it were ... well, I would happily debate the good and the bad of Hilary, the good and the bad of Obama-- and the good and the bad of every other political leader in this country because that would have nothing to do with race or sex ... but again, Trump didn’t win because of politics. He won because of prejudice ... and that’s also exactly why he lost in 2020. His hatred fueled so much pain and death and anger over the last four years that when finally given the chance, the people of this country who suffered because of his hate, were finally able to vote him out.

And how did he respond? By saying that the election was rigged. That the vote was stolen from him ... that America’s ideals were under attack. Even though the irony of it was-- he was the only one attacking anyone! What too many right-leaning individuals fail to see is that this is not a game. We are not one team being pitted against another during a playoff game. We are one country, and we should try to work as one. But Trump made it a game, and he made it about winning and winning alone. He acted like once he got that championship ring, his work was done and then all he had to do was claim himself “the greatest” from then on out. And if that point was ever contested, then he would spit fire and fury, acting as if his words had no real consequence; as if he were just defending his honor. But they did have consequence... and we saw that consequence come to a head on January 6th at the capitol.

So-- no, I don’t hate Trump just because Misha hates Trump. Unlike Trump-followers, I don’t choose to hate things just because someone I admire, does.

I hate Trump because he highlighted the fact that in this country, you can be elected to the highest office in the nation without any political foundation or knowledge. All you need to be is an old white man who feigns support of other old white men, by knocking down every other person who is not old, white and/ or a man. Trump won because he dug up this country’s deeply prejudiced roots, claiming that the reason any American was “suffering” in any way is because we worked so hard to bury those roots.

I hate him because he is a liar.

I hate him because he is a racist.

I hate him for not caring about politics or law or justice.

I hate him because he never loved or appreciated this country beyond what it could do for him and his overinflated ego.

I hate Trump for so many reasons, and absolutely none of them have anything to do with Misha Collins.

But I do love the fact that Misha hates him too.

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hellowkatey · 3 years

Text

Febuwhump Day 23

Prompt: “Don’t look”

Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence/slave torture

Read on AO3

Oya Manda

While the tally marks on Rex's armor are for his kills, the ones he now marks on the side of his boot are for the days that have passed since he and General Kenobi were taken to Kadavo. Crossing the other four marks with a shaky diagonal line to signify the end of the fifth day isn't as satisfying as another enemy out of the way. He sighs as he sets down the little piece of graphite, letting his head hit the back of the bunk heavily like he's too exhausted to hold it up himself.

Kadavo is a new type of hell. He thought cadet training was hard work but this... this is torture. The older troopers like to whisper about their "slavery to the Republic", but those cushy Captains and Commanders haven't been here. The clones might as well be house pets of the Republic compared to the horrors he's seen at the Zygerrian market.

There is a heavy sigh in the bunk below him, and the clunk of a body falling onto the hard surface all at once. General Kenobi. Rex hasn't seen him all day, so he peers over the side at his Jedi General.

To say General Kenobi looks worse for wear would be a compliment. The man's robes have been all but shredded by the number of whips and beatings he's taken. They're basically red at this point too, caked into his skin by the dried blood. Though Rex hasn't exactly had it easy either, he certainly hasn't gotten the treatment of a Jedi in slave captivity. Slowly, painfully, General Kenobi rolls over, his eyes meeting Rex's in the dim light.

"Hello, Rex," he says softly. He half-expects him to ask him how he's doing, but then again, the general hasn't asked that in two days. It only prompts the same question in return, which he suspects Kenobi doesn't want to answer either.

"General. Where'd they have you today?"

"Rocks," he shifts his body so he's lying on his back, arms folded behind his head as a pillow. "You?"

"Digging."

"Hm." His eyes are already fluttering closed. Manual labor for fourteen hours a day will do that to a person. The draw of sleep is also tugging at the clone captain. He takes one last look at Kenobi.

"Night, sir."

The general in return just hums something incoherent, and Rex lays back on his own bunk.

He's on digging again the next day. Separated from General Kenobi once again. They lead him with a group of Togrutas to their site, and by the crack of a whip slicing through the air, they begin their day. Rex has learned the drill by now: stay quiet, keep working, and keep your head down. He hasn't had a bad beating since the second day with this tactic, and he'd like to stay in as few pieces as possible if he's going to be in fighting shape when they're rescued.

If we ever get rescued.

He pauses, the negative thought settling in and sending a chill down his spine. No, we will get rescued. They will come for us.

Rex knows this. Their mission is to save the Togrutas, and by association, him and the general. But he can see the five tally marks on his boot from where he stands, and he can't deny that it's been a long time since they were taken.

"Back to work!" a Zygerrian guard growls, and Rex raises his eyes to see if he's talking to him-- he is, but as Rex shoves his shovel into the gravel ground, a young girl catches his eye. The Togruta is also assigned to digging duty, but she hardly looks older than the commander! In fact, she looks quite like the commander, her montrals also blue and white, though a darker blue, and her white facial markings make up the majority of her face. What really gets him is when she looks up, obviously feeling someone's eyes on her, and stares at him with these big, round blue eyes. She just... reminds him so much of Tano it brings a knot to his stomach.

Seeing her in that getup at the market was... sickening enough. Through the war, Rex and the others have all but adopted the kid as their own, and to see her playing the part of the slave made his blood boil. Especially since he was playing the part of a slaver.

But to see an actual young Togruta that looks remarkably like their own Jedi... it's too much to take. All he can think about is if that were Tano, and it makes him eager to add more tally marks to his helmet.

"I said," a booming voice cuts through his remembrance of Ahsoka Tano, "back to work!" The crack of a whip snaps crisply in the air and Rex watches the girl flinch. He gets back to digging, but the anger builds in his belly. What is a kid doing out here in the first place?

By lunchtime, which of course, isn't actually lunch for the slaves but for the guards, Rex has ended up next to the Togruta girl as those between them were sent elsewhere. When Rex is confident the guards are too occupied with their food, he leans over slowly.

"Hey kid," he says softly. Even with his care to not startle her, she jumps at the sound of his voice. "You doing alright?"

She peers up at him with hesitant eyes but seeing he too is bound by a collar just as her she nods. "As good as I can."

"Tired?"

"My legs..." she winces. "Exhausted."

He nods, noticing the shake in her thin legs.

"Pick up less gravel in your shovel. I'll be sure to make up for it for you. Just concentrate on staying upright." he says, giving her a sympathetic nod. He isn't sure if she knows this yet, but the guards are not kind to those who collapse of exhaustion. They act as though flogging is a replacement for proper food and rest.

She looks at him uneasily, but nods. "Thank you. I will try."

They continue to work in silence. She does, indeed, pick up smaller loads, and Rex tries to move a little quicker and pick up a little more. He himself has been keeping a steady pace, and the mission of helping her is enough to bring his energy up again.

"What is your name?" he asks after a while. "Mine is Rex."

"Arshee."

"That's a pretty name. How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

She looks much younger, but it could be the sunken cheeks and thin frame.

Rex glances at the guards, who are dealing with someone on the other side of their workspace, and he leans in again. "We're going to get you out of here, Arshee. Help is coming."

"When?" she asks, as though being told help is on the way is something she hears on the daily.

"I-- I don't-- soon."

Arshee just nods, the points of her montrals sagging as she puts her head down to concentrate on digging. Rex sighs. He just wanted to give her hope, but it seems this is no place for that sort of thing.

Then two hours later, despite her best efforts, Arshee's body starts to shake, and she collapses to the ground. Her shovel has not yet toppled over when the guards have grabbed her by the biceps and hoisted her to her knees.

"No, please!" she bellows in terror. "I just fell!"

"You'll learn to rest on the job," one says, twirling around his whip as it powers up. It happens so fast, Rex hardly has time to react to what is happening. He stops working to stare at them in horror as the first lash from the electro-whip makes sickening contact with her back, wrapping around to jab into her ribs. The sight makes him queasy and immeasurably angry. Before he can think it through, he reverses his grip on the shovel, and when the slaver raises his arm to hit her again, Rex jumps between them, pointing his shovel at his face.

"Enough," he says. "She's a kid."

"She's our property."

"Well... so am I."

The Zygerrian's face goes from mild pleasure to a large, sinister smile ear-to-ear.

"Looks like we got ourselves a hero."

He hears a dull thud and the sound of crawling across gravel. Rex can see Arshee sitting on the ground with her arms wrapped around her torso out of his peripheral, her eyes wide with horror. Once again, he sees the commander in her place. Rex is ready to accept the fate of this if it means she will be spared.

The slave driver raises his whip, the string crackling with extra power, and Rex looks over his shoulder at the young Togruta girl.

"Don't look," he whispers, and then he feels the whip snap into his skin, sending searing, white-hot pain through every part of him. The electricity comes next, making every muscle in his body spasm and seize until they feel like they're melting off his bones entirely. There are only a couple seconds between each whip-- a few moments to recover before the progression repeats. His nerves are so strung out, he hardly realizes they have turned him around to work on slashing across his back.

In one of the lulls, he looks over where Arshee landed. Thankfully, she listened to him and is staring off in the opposite direction. He can see the tears dripping from her chin, her arms wrapped so tightly around her midsection it's like she's the only thing holding herself together.

She probably feels guilty that I've taken her beating... and maybe that is the case. But Rex would much rather her be upset with guilt than crying over the pain of torture. He will be sure to reassure her of this when he has the chance.

Rex grits his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut, and he rides out continued assault.

Now Rex is the one that looks worse for wear. As he drags himself back to his bunk, his body still buzzing from the electric shocks, he finds Kenobi sitting on the edge of the bunks already, watching his slow approach. He has a new black eye today, still bright red in some places so it must be fairly recent.

"Rex..." the general says in concerned awe as he sits down next to him. He has no energy to hoist himself up into his own bunk yet. Even sitting, his body sways, and Kenobi puts a stabilizing hand on his back.

"You mind?" Rex asks, holding out the small piece of graphite and stiffly raising his food. General Kenobi eyes the graphite and then his boot before taking it from his hand.

"They'll come," Kenobi says quietly as he places a new tally next to his group of five.

But even the Jedi, ever optimistic, doesn't sound entirely convinced of his own words.

#febuwhump #febuwhump2021 #febuwhumpday23 #don't look #kadavo #zygerria #rex #obi-wan kenobi #im very shocked this is my first kadavo fic #but hey at least i gave obi a little bit of a break

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