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tomurasprincess · 4 years

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Kinktober Day 10: Chikan (His Biggest Fan)

Day 10: Chikan Title: His Biggest Fan Pairing: Hawks x Reader Word Count: 1.6k Warnings: Dubcon, chikan, coercion, manipulation, public sex, exhibitionism, yandere Note: A bit of a shorter one tonight because I have a few coming up that are going to be much longer. Also, it is technically still October 10th here, so it is not late (let me just mentally have this reasoning, please.)

“You’re - you’re Hawks, oh my god,” you can’t help the words that slip from your mouth when you see the number two hero stand beside you on the busy subway. He’s been your favorite since the first time he made the hero scene, and you can’t believe he’s right beside you.

“Yes I am,” he gives you a smile that could win anyone over before moving to stand even closer to you. “Are you a fan of mine, little bird?”

The endearment causes your heart to race in excitement even though you know he’s probably this friendly to everyone. “Yes, I’ve been following your hero work for a while now, and I’m a huge fan!”

You pause for a second before hastily adding, “that might make me sound like a stalker, I know, but I promise I don’t mean it like that.”

He reaches out to trail a finger down your bare arm, causing goosebumps to raise as you shiver. “Maybe I wouldn’t mind,” he chuckles at you. “You’re a cutie.” He steps towards you, putting one hand up above your head to clutch at the bar. He towers over your small form, close enough that you can smell the cologne he uses. Your heart is beating out of your chest in disbelief of what is happening. This has been a deep, dark fantasy of yours, one that you would never admit to anyone. And now it seems to be happening.

His finger trails lower, tracing a pattern on the front of your shirt, dangerously close to your breasts. “And you’re even wearing my merchandise. You must be such a good fan.”

You feel your cheeks go hot, embarrassment causing you to be unable to meet his eyes. You forgot that you were wearing one of your many Hawks fan shirts. Although you feel no shame when wearing it out, it feels different somehow when the man himself is the one who sees you in it.

He takes a finger under your chin and raises it to meet his eyes. “Since you’re such a good fan, maybe you could do me a favor.”

“I don’t know how someone like me could help someone as great as you, but I’ll do what I can!” Your thoughts instantly move to grand notions like helping him with a case or other fanciful notions that you know can’t be the truth but you can’t help wanting anyway.

But you were certainly not expecting him to grip your hips and pull you flush against him, grinding his hardening erection into your thigh. He grabs your hand and moves it downward, closing your hand around the bulge. “I think you can help me with this, little bird. Don’t you?”

“I - I don’t know,” you trail off a bit, unsure how to truly respond.

“So you won’t help me then? That’s fine, I know it’s probably too much for anything but a true fan to do.”

“But I’m a true fan,” you protest instantly, “I promise I am!”

“So you’ll help me after all,” he turns you around and pushes you against the bar as he humps against the curve of your ass. You hear the rustling of his clothes, and feel your skirt being lifted up. Everything is happening too fast for you and your head is spinning from trying to process everything.

“Wait, I’m not so sure about this,” you try to reason with him, “we’re in public, what if someone sees?”

You feel his chest rumble with a laugh. “You really are a good fan, worried about my reputation.” You see his wings spread out a bit, coming to wrap around you and cover you from view. A few people turn to look in your direction, but they smile and glance away, simply assuming that you’re his girlfriend and he’s being protective of you.

“Now no one can see,” you feel his hot, hard cockhead probing at your entrance. “You’ll just have to be very quiet so no one suspects anything, and since you’re such a good girl, I know you can do that for me.” And with that he begins to push inside of you. The sting of him stretching out your mostly dry walls causes tears to form in your eyes, ones that you rapidly blink away so that nobody sees.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans deeply into your ear, burying his face in your neck as he bites down. “You feel so good clamping down on my cock like that.”

You whine a bit as he finally enters you completely, cockhead resting against your cervix as he gives you time to adjust. “You’re a true fan, to help me like this,” he grunts softly as he begins to move, veins and ridges of his cock sliding against your walls in a way that starts out painful but soon feels wonderful.

He reaches around to find your clit, rubbing down on the throbbing bead. You grip the bar you’re facing, biting into the meat of your hand to contain your moan as pleasure zings through you. His short, shallow thrusts inside of you quickly become harder as you grow wet and he’s able to move more freely. “I want you to cum around my cock, little bird,” he whispers into your ear. “Think you can do that for me?”

“Y-yes Hawks,” you whimper a bit as his fingers rub your clit harder, pussy clenching down around him at the stimulation.

“Mmm, call me Keigo, little bird,” he reaches around to reach under your shirt, pulling your bra up so that he can grip your breasts, tweaking your nipples until they’re rock hard.

You move your hand just a bit higher on the bar so that you can push back to meet his thrusts. “Yes, Keigo, oh fuck it feels so good,” you whisper as quietly as you can. The squelching noises as his cock slams into you leaves you feeling both ashamed and oddly thrilled.

Your hero trusts you enough to help him with a problem. To stay quiet and not let anyone see what he’s doing to you to preserve his reputation.

You would hate to disappoint him.

You feel your lower stomach tighten as you near your orgasm, and Hawks must sense it too, because he adjusts his angle to hit a sensitive spot inside of you that causes your pussy to pulse around him.

He manages to stay quiet, letting out only sharp huffs of breath, but you fare much worse than he is. You’re biting so hard into your hand that you can taste blood as you try to contain your noises and gripping the bar hard enough that your hand is turning red.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum,” his blunt nails dig hard into your thighs as he speeds up. “Let me cum inside.”

You feel a sense of unease at that. You’re not on any birth control, so what happens if you get pregnant?

He must sense your hesitation, as he starts to reassure you with gentle touches across your body. “Please, your pussy feels so fucking amazing, little bird,” Keigo grunts into your ear. “You would prove yourself as my biggest fan if you just let me fill you up.”

A sense of excitement builds up in you. His biggest fan? Of course you’re his biggest fan, and you have to prove it to him. You have to let him know how much he means to you.

“Hhnggg, alright,” you groan, ��please cum inside of me, Keigo, I want to prove it to you.”

“Such a good girl,” he chuckles at your response and grinds down on your swollen clit, and the pleasure shoots straight to your core. You’re thrown into such an intense orgasm that the bar you’re gripping is the only thing that keeps you standing, your knees wanting to buckle from the sensations rolling through you.

You feel his cock twitch inside of you, pace stuttering as hot cum paints your walls white. There’s so much that it leaks out a bit, dripping down your leg. Finally the stimulation is too much, and he pulls out of you in such an abrupt movement that you whine at the feeling of being so empty.

He readjusts himself into his pants, pushing your panties back into place to prevent any more cum from leaking out. You pull away from the bar a bit, only to stumble and almost collapse as your legs buckle. Keigo catches you easily, smiling at your blissed out look. “Here’s what we’re going to do next. Are you listening?”

“Yes, of course,” you nod your head several times.

“We’re going to get off at the next stop, and you’re coming with me. Do you understand?”

“What do you mean,” you answer hesitantly, confusion overtaking your features. The idea of going home with him is an absolute dream, but you have so many things to do. “I’m on my lunch break, so - “

“You heard me. You’re coming home with me.”

“But what about work, I really have to head - “

“Little bird, you disappoint me,” he sighs dramatically, shaking his head at you in disbelief. “I thought you were my biggest fan, but apparently work is more important.”

“No!” Your voice comes out slightly higher pitched than you intended as panic almost overtakes you. This is your chance and you’re about to blow it over something as trivial as work. “You’re right. Work isn’t important, not when it comes to you.”

His smile instantly returns, looking like the sun coming back out from the clouds. “I’m so glad.” He wraps an arm tightly around you as he leads you to the opening door. “I can’t wait to finally get you home, my little bird.”

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Kinktober: @thewheezingwyvern, @vixen-scribbles, @katsukisprincess, @hisoknen, @trafalgar-temptress, @leeswritingworld, @bakugotrashpanda, @kittycatkrissa, @reinawritesbnha, @yanderart, @dabilove27, @fae-father, @anxietyplusultra, @flutterfalla, @angmarwitch, @nereida19, @babayaga67, @fromsunnywithlove, @dabis-kitten, @bakugos-cumsock, @yumeneji, @the-grimm-writer, @iwaizumi-chan, @slashersheart, @cissiewrites, @bunnyywritings, @bakarinnie, @lucygucy123, @angie-1306, @emplosion22, @lalalemon101, @videogameboiwhowins, @armoredashley, @f4nficbaby, @sky-robin, @baroque-baby, @bbyspiiice, @celeroki, @jubilee40, @tenkoshimmy, @khemz1312, @thirsthourdemon

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angelguk · 3 years

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oc is back on her bullshit!!! miss out and about im gonna forget about you!! im so sorry for this part actually. descriptions of oc sleeping with someone who is not jaykay (warning!! infidelity but not really). suppressed feelings on jks side. chayoung is still Suspicious. everyone is now mildly shitty actually. roughly 2k. listen to not gonna cry by emma steikbakken and stranger by tove lo.

titled — fuel to the fire

It's been three days since you last spoke to Jeongguk (and four weeks since your break-up). Not about your relationship or the horrendous state your sudden break-up left you in, or about the fact that Jeongguk had moved on before your heart had even registered the cracks he'd left in his wake. No, not that – none of the actual life changing important stuff, only him briefly mentioning that you needed to hand in your event proposal for the student committee before the deadline approached. It was unbelievably strange to watch the person you'd basically surgically attached to your being behave like a complete stranger. It didn't help that he didn't seemed unfazed approaching you, while you on the other hand actively avoided him and all the usual corners of campus where he liked to lurk (which sucked because those corners were some of your favourites places too). But there he was, ambling to you with an ease that made your gut violently twist, acrid bile slithering up your throat.

He'd spoken so freely, the sound of your name on his tongue a brand on your skin. You'd frozen, heart a wild animal locked in your chest, before you could summon the mettle to look him in the face.

The first thing you noted was that his hair was no longer long. Dark locks cropped short around his ears now and casually gelled back, idle strands playfully framing his face. His features are what you settled on next, eager eyes remapping the sharp slope of his nose, easily identifying the sneaky dimple on his cheek begging to burst free and then shifting down to the dark mark right below his soft pink lips.

Your first instinct was to pull him into your arms but they were frozen, glued to the table beneath you before that blinding rage rose it's head, sparking through your veins the longer you looked at him.

He didn't even seem to realise it, rattling off the list of things you needed to email him for the spring scavenger hunt or else the event could be cancelled (which sucked because that was an idea you had created with Jeongguk and now you were stuck carrying the bulk of the event alone).

Your replies had been curt, blunt as they left your lips before you'd pointedly turned away. Maybe if you had looked a little longer you would detected the lingering gaze he granted your features, how he shuffled on his feet, unsure and hesitant, words on his tongue longing to be released. Eventually he had swallowed him down, mumbled a quick goodbye and wandered off, the hands shoved in the pockets of his baggy jeans aching to hold yours again.

You, however, didn't miss the muffled giggles of girls he passed on his way out, a sick icky feeling clogging your throat. You didn't mind the fan girls when you were dating because you knew Jeongguk was yours and yours alone. But now? When he'd moved on not even a weak after your break-up you didn't know how to feel. Jealous, maybe. Furious, absolutely. For a second, you considered throwing your mini stapler at their huddled heads, weighing the odds of possibly going to jail for assault. But there was no reason to truly justify that reaction, not when Jeongguk was single and apparently available for everyone. But did that feeling still brew inside of you? Turning into something black and vile and vengeful? Perhaps.

And maybe that's why you're here now, the body of some boy pressing against yours, your bare back prickling as the night wind grazes against it. The dress you'd plucked from your closet was criminal, clinging to the dips and rounds of your body perfectly, a silky emerald backless piece that shimmered beneath the soft lights of the porch you'd abruptly accoupled. His name might be Lucas – you may have been able to accurately remember that three drinks ago but you're beyond that now. And it didn’t really matter when all you wanted was for him to fuck you. He's also big and huge, massive shoulders caving you in, and his hands is snaking it's way up your thighs, ginger kisses peppered along the span of your neck.

Which is not what you wanted. Not in a one-night stand at least. You don't want soft and gentle, you want something wild – feral even. Something harsh enough to wipe the memory of Jeongguk's hands on your skin, something bright and fierce and new. Something to make you feel alive again.

Lucas gets the hint soon enough, spurred on by the bold movement of your hand guiding his closer, right between your thighs were you wanted him. Deft harsh fingers on your clit followed, pressing against the damp fabric with no remorse. You couldn't help the whimper that floats from your lips, the tension stringing through your limbs finally alleviated.

"Cute," he murmurs, seemly pleased judging from the broad smile that tugs at his lips. You make a noise of agreement in return, drawing in him for a kiss as the pad of this thumb toys with you. There's the sillage of whiskey on his tongue, something that nearly makes you freeze because you're used to tasting that on Jeongguk. But you beat down that apprehension, a muffled moan breaking past your lips when Luca's tongue mets yours.

"My place?" He suggests, lips glimmering from your lip gloss. You smile, a familiar giddiness bubbling in your chest when he shifts a little, hard bulge bumping into the base of your stomach. You give in a little bit more easily than you normally would have, clinging onto his hand as he guides you out of the party towards the neighboring building. Chayoung and Sieun are going to kill you later for this but you simply can't force yourself to care.

"You're in that frat?" You finally murmur out when he keys himself into the building. Lucas hums, glowing under the moonlight when he smiles at you.

"Mhm, Sigma Chi for life, babe."

Babe. A complete one-eighty from the bunny you'd grown accustomed to.

It hits a little harder when he gets you into his room, the mess unlike anything you'd ever seen at Jeongguk's (he's very anal but his room and how clean it should be, specific down even to the various scents he kept around to ensure the air he breathed was perfect). Lucas was the average frat boy, messy but neat enough that you find yourself naked on his bed a couple moments later, his tongue deep inside of you. Your brain couldn't help but recall the last time a head had settled between your thighs, Jeongguk eager to lick out the pool of cum he'd left there. But this wasn't him and as of five seconds ago you decided you’re no longer allowed to think about him.

Lucas makes it easy, tongue skilled and swift around your clit, a fervour in his movements that leaves you dripping down his chin. Jeongguk evaporates from your mind entirely when Lucas descends on you, his mouth glistening and his tongue tasting of you. His kisses are hungry now, forceful, just what you need. Your palms stray down his wide back, a strange tingle erupting in your gut when your nails dig and he groans right down your throat.

"You're so big," the comment is a mumbled slur, lost in Lucas's mouth. For a second, you think he misunderstands, his hard cock twitching against your thigh. You're actually talking about his shoulders; they're broad, muscles rippling every time he shifts to press you harder into the mattress. You like the weight of him on you, it makes forgetting easier.

But Lucas knows what you're saying, discerning your wandering fingers and clouded eyes well.

"I know," he returns with lopsided smile. "Perks of swimming."

Oh, of course he was an athlete. Maybe you had a type after all.

Before Jeongguk has a moment to resurface Lucas has you in his arms, easily twisting you around so that your face is buried in his sheets. It short-circuits you, brain sparking with how large and huge and strong he feels. The following sudden press of his lips against your ass doesn’t help, your heart thumping loud in your head as your shuffle onto your elbows.

"Good?" Lucas asks, rising to fetch a condom from his drawer.

"Mhm," you return, thighs trembling when he returns. He easily lines himself up with you, the head of his cock pressed into you coaxing a low groan from your throat. The first thrust hurts, probably because you're body isn't as on board with this as you thought. But that changes quick when Lucas's hand slides underneath you, swiftly settling on your clit until you're leaking around his length, skin tight with tension and sweat beading along the length of your back. The stretch feels strange – he's larger than Jeongguk, wider. At first it's too uncomfortable to feel good. Your senses narrow on the sound of your meeting instead, loud and lewd, your pussy squelching with every drag of his cock inside of you. The ripple of your ass helps you relax too, a pleasant almost dizzy feel spreading through your body when Lucas draws you closer, shoving himself deep inside, the whine floating from his lips painting your skin warm. He fucks you hard enough to leave marks, large fingers digger into your hips with every resounding collide of your bodies. You shiver when he finishes, a grimness appearing on your skin. It's vanished by Lucas tugging you close, his mouth light on your lip as he kisses you, cock slowly slipping out.

It feels better the second round. He's perceptive, quickly learning how you like your clit touched, or that you like when his teeth sink into your skin rather hard. You actually cum this time, spread open over his massive strong thighs, his length splitting you open, the stretched welcomed.

You forgot about Jeongguk and your sore heart for a total of two wonderous hours, before your phone starts blaring from your discarded mini-bag on the floor. Lucas is the one that gets it for you.

"Hi?"

"Y/N! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?" Chayoung's tone is aggrieved, wavering through the sound of some song blasting in the background.

"Oh. I left." You hope she gets it, doesn't press any further. But what was Chayoung if not a button pusher?

"WHERE? YOU WENT HOME? WHEN?"

"No, I'm not home. And awhile ago." Lucas is pointedly not listening, pattering through the adjacent bathroom of his room. The pressure ebbs when he turns the tap on loud.

"WHAT?"

"I said I'm not home! And please stop yelling!"

There's a loaded pause. You can feel Chayoung thinking through the line. "Okay... Who are you with?"

"Fine, yes I'll meet you there," you say instead, completely ignoring her question. Lucas is out of the bathroom now, massive and still naked as his knee sinks into the mattress. He crawls to you as you scramble to get out, phone wedged between your shoulder and ear. "Yeah, yeah I know I'm sorry. I'll come get you."

"What the hell are you talking about Y/N? Who are you with?" Chayoung's words are bitter now, stinging as they hit your ear.

"Gimme five seconds, I'll be right there," you return, swiftly cutting the call. Chayoung is going to kill you the second you see her but you'd rather attempt to live through that than Lucas overhearing you gossip about him on the phone with your friend. The man in question is watching you with a chary gaze as you hurriedly tug your dress over your head. "Sorry," you supply, pulling the hem down hard over your butt. "My friend needs me."

He nods slow, strawberry blond locks swaying. He's actually very hot, an observation that has you stilling for a second.

"Cool. See you around, yeah?" His eyes are round and big, bright even – almost like Jeongguk's. That breaks the spell.

"Yeah, see you around." And then you take the chance to flee, bag swung over your shoulder. Except Lucas halts you with a low cough, raising his hand, something bunched up in it.

"You forget this, though." It's your underwear, red and lacy. Your cheeks match the colour of fabric, flushed hot as you pluck it out of his wide palm. Lucas watches you slip them on with a smug smile, one that you should hate but there's a humour in it that blooms through you. He lets you part with a fond squeeze of ass when he gets up to open the door, still grinning.

"See you, Y/N," he says, leaning against the doorframe. He's very tall too, how did you miss that?

"Yeah," you squeak back, eyes shifting from his face with speed. "See you."

He's not Jeongguk, and that's good. He also makes it easy for you to forget about Jeongguk, another plus. And you can't help but wonder as you scurry back to the party, that it might be nice to see him again.

—

That sentiment gets jumbled when Chayoung avidly spills to you later that she'd stumbled into Jeongguk with his hands tangled with another girls, leading her right out of the party as Lucas had lead you. It stings, of course it does, but not as much as the first one. Not when Lucas is in your DMs, his messages sweet albeit corny, and you can still recall the taste of you on his tongue.

But despite everything, even with Jeongguk a new stranger and Lucas's body warming yours, you haven’t truly let go. You can feel it in how you cling to the clothes Jeongguk had left in your closet. He hadn't requested to come pick them up yet, a fact that keeps a wedge in the door you're not sure you can close alone. Your heart still spikes when you see him on campus, and there's a home game coming around the corner that you're longing to go to. Because you still want to see him. Still want to be by his side Sometimes it felt nice to want to forget but you couldn't – not yet at least, not until you know whether he wants to forget about you too.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #bts x reader #bts angst #jungkook scenario

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cafedanslanuit · 3 years

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sometimes ending a relationship is the only way to help each other. at least that’s what you tell yourself on your way back home to your fiancé.

♡ — pairing: reiner braun x reader / zeke jaeger x reader (mentioned but not described)

♡ — tags/warnings: female reader, suggestive but not explicit, cheating, angst, canon compliant, toxic relationships (not romanticized)

♡ — a/n: heavily inspired by miley cyrus’ ‘angels like you’, hence the title.

♡ — length: 2.2k

♡ — masterlist

Liberio at night was never a pretty sight.

As you walked home, you noticed all the small details you never took the time to see. The puddles of sewer water on the streets, the stench of urine in the corners close to bars and the sound of rats running around, too afraid to come in the light. Your thighs hurt every step you gave and you couldn’t ignore the burning sensation between your legs. Memories of grunts and your nails digging on a man’s back flooded your mind, making you shake your head in a vague attempt to get rid of them.

You knew well you couldn’t ever get rid of them.

You thought of everything that led you to Zeke’s office late that night. Of course, it was about delivering some documents that could have been delivered the next morning and staying for a cigarette even if you had quit smoking years ago. And before you knew it, Chief Jaeger was fucking you on his desk, your legs around his waist, his forehead pressing to your shoulder and his hands grabbing your ass as he roughly pounded against you.

You wished there was a part of yourself that truly believed you didn’t know this was coming, that you hadn’t let your skirt rile up when you crossed your legs neither smiled bashfully at Zeke’s compliments about how beautiful you looked that night. You wished there was a part of you that was really attracted to him, a part of you that really wanted him to fuck you seneseless and leave you a sweating mess over his desk as he pulled up his pants.

But you knew better than that.

You opened the door to your small house, not bothering in turning on the lights. Maybe this was for the best, you told yourself. It was the best decision you could make. Well, it had to be, or else you had broken a man without a purpose.

On your way to your bedroom, you noticed a new framed photo on the wall, making you stop in your tracks. You remembered taking it a little more than a week ago and you figured it must have been delivered while you were gone. Reiner, his mom and you were smiling at the camera and if you hadn’t known both Brauns as much as you did, you could have sworn their smile was genuine.

Your eyes fixated on Reiner’s soft expression, one of his hands on your shoulder and the other one over his mom’s. He had barely talked to you since returning from his long mission in Paradis, refusing to answer any of your questions regarding how he was feeling or what had happened during the years he was gone. Reiner had never been one to share too much. You still remembered how long it took him to tell you the truth about his absent father on an Autumn afternoon, his face pressed on your thighs, his shoulders shaking violently as he told you the truth that had been tormenting him for years. You were twelve, just one year older than him, yet you listened and ran your fingers through his blond locks, trying to comfort him the best way you knew. Four years passed by and every night you would pray for his safety and that he would return to you. You knew he was a warrior and that he was good at what he did but you couldn’t fight the feeling that you just wanted him to rest.

The first time you saw Reiner after his mission in Paradis, you couldn’t stop yourself from crying. No matter how tightly Reiner held you, assuring you he was in fact there and that it wasn’t another one of your dreams. He was hurried by his mother to leave you and go back to his home, which he did, not before asking you to meet him at your spot at midnight.

Reiner was your first kiss. And how happy you were that you had waited for him.

As short-lived as your romance was before he had to leave for war again, you couldn’t help but notice the weight over his shoulder had only increased. Only this time, he wouldn’t talk about what he saw or experienced at the island. You tried to be understanding, even if it pained you to see his disassociated eyes look at the horizon whenever he was too much in his head.

Before Reiner went to war, he promised he would marry you when he got back. You had smiled brightly between tears and told him you would wait for him, no matter how long he took. Both of you kept on your promises, with him buying a small house inside of Liberio just for the two of you and you organizing a small but lovely wedding that would happen in a few months.

That was supposed to happen in a few months.

Now you wondered where it was that you lost him. Had a part of him died in Paradis? Had it been the war that had finally sent him over the edge. You weren’t sure. All you knew was that the Reiner sleeping on your bed wasn’t the boy who had cried on your lap anymore.

Not having enough with dancing around your questions about his feelings, he also expected you to act like he wasn’t having nightmares every night. That you didn’t see him sitting up with a panicked expression, covered in sweat. Whenever you tried to reach for him, he would elude your touch, not even caring to acknowledge your questions about what he had dreamt about or how you could help.

He hadn’t shared a word with you after coming back home from your engagement celebration. Even if the whole afternoon he had his arm around your waist and would press kisses on your forehead and temple at any moment, it all went away when he stepped inside your new home. You still remembered the knot in your throat from when he refused your offer to have some tea on your balcony, just the two of you. Reiner turned to leave so quickly he didn’t notice the tears streaming down your cheeks.

You didn’t know what happened on that island and you probably would never know but you were sure the man who you had been sharing a bed with wasn’t Reiner anymore.

Your eyes looked at Mrs. Braun in the photo, a sour taste filling your mouth. Even if her smile was gentle, you couldn’t easily forget that only a few minutes before the photo, she had told Reiner you were just an orphan trying to profit from his warrior status and that he should break the engagement, that a promise he made when he was sixteen meant nothing. Reiner’s eyes met yours for a brief second and just when you thought he was going to say something to defend you, he lowered his head, continuing to listen to his mother’s yells while she pretended you were not in the same room.

You took the photo off the wall and placed it face down on the table.

Resuming your steps, you stepped into your bedroom. Reiner was sound asleep on your bed, the sheet not big enough to cover his brod, bare shoulders. For a minute, you just watched him sleep, taking in everything you had loved for years about him. From the way his brow creased to the small mole next to his ear, to the way his hair looked when it was messy. You hated the way his image made you smile even as you were about to lose him for good.

Taking a deep breath, you turned the lights on. Reiner’s light sleep was evident when he started blinking a few seconds later, a confused look on his face until his eyes met yours.

"I fucked Zeke tonight."

A truth. You thought it was always easier when you start with one. Reiner stayed still for a moment, his still confused mind trying to process your words. You watched him in silence, waiting for his response. He was never violent so you weren’t afraid but you knew that night everything was going to change.

Reiner passed one of his hands across his hair, letting out a long sigh.

"Okay."

You furrowed your eyebrows. You opened your mouth and then closed it, not believing you had heard him correctly.

"Okay?"

"I just want to sleep," he exhaled, laying his head on the pillow once again and closing his eyes. You took some steps further until you were standing next to him.

"Reiner, I fucked Zeke Jaeger in his office an hour ago."

"Yeah, you just told me," Reiner muttered, his eyes still closed.

That’s when it hit you. You took the sheets covering his body and pulled them away hastily, forcing him to open his eyes.

"Do you really not fucking care!?" you spat, your voice breaking at the end.

For a few seconds, Reiner remained quiet, not an inch of his body moving. You were breathing heavily, eyes filled with tears that threatened to fall. It was all coming down to this and a part of you still couldn’t believe this is how you were going to say goodbye. Was he truly the man you had loved for the last ten years? Did you really mean so little in his mind? You watched him sit up on the bed, his honey eyes finally facing yours.

"Of course I care that my fiancée slept with the Chief. Of course, I care, fuck— I hate it. I fucking hate it and I wish I could stop imagining it happening inside my head,” Reiner said, gesturing towards his temple, his voice hoarse and pained. “Because it is. Believe me when I say I keep replaying those thoughts in my head, over and over and over,” he hissed, his lips forming a thin line. “But why— why would I feel entitled to say anything when I'm the one that's been fucking things up with you?" he asked, his palm hitting his chest forcefully.

The tears you promised not to shed were already falling from your eyes, your face twisting in a scowl.

“We're not good for each other. We haven’t been for a while, Reiner. So please, please, lets just— we need to let each other go,” you pleaded.

“It’s not like that, we’re not— fuck,” Reiner sighed, covering his face with his hands. “I’m sorry. I am, I just— I can’t,” he choked.

“It’s not your fault,” you assured him in a softer voice. Tentatively, you put your hand over his shoulder, rubbing it gently. You saw his body melt under your touch, his left hand immediately reaching for yours in search for comfort. “I’m not what you need right now, Reiner. We’re only hurting each other by playing this long game of pretend. And… I’m tired. I’m so tired,” you cried.

His hand squeezed yours in a vain attempt to calm you down. It only increased the sobs, making you remember all the times he had taken your hand underneath the table whenever he noticed you were anxious in a social gathering or kissed each one of your knuckles, making you laugh even when you had just been crying.

“Guess your mom was right when she told you I wasn’t good enough for you,” you chuckled sadly.

“Don’t say that,” he shook his head, taking your hand to his mouth and pressing a kiss on the back of your hand. Reluctantly, you pulled your hand away from his, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“But it’s true. I— I fucked up. I fucked up big time, Reiner. And now… now we’re done,” you breathed out, looking at your shoes. “We can’t just keep pretending everything is fine when—"

"Let's go to sleep.”

You choked on a sob, your eyes snapping back to his. “Reiner,” you whispered.

"I promise we'll talk in the morning. Just come here" he said, shifting on the bed to make space for you. You looked at the sheets, your body not moving a fraction. “Please,” he almost begged, his voice making your heart clench in pain.

You held on his powerful gaze, lips parted in dismay. Both of you stayed in silence for longer than you could register and even if he wasn’t talking, you could recognize the utter necessity of having you close in his eyes, even if he was aware of the lie you had fabricated together. You finally yielded and you looked away, nodding idly as you wiped the tears off your face. Your body and mind had surrendered one more time, just like you told yourself you wouldn’t.

"Let me take a shower first,” you muttered, taking off your coat.

"No," Reiner quipped. You turned to him, confused, and now he was the one to avoid your gaze. "I don't care, just... let's go to sleep.”

Kicking your shoes off, you got into bed with him, his arms around your body feeling so foreign you felt yourself on the verge of breaking down once again. Reiner buried his face on your neck, pretending he didn’t recognize the strong male perfume lingering on your skin, instead massaging the plush of your hips with his thumb softly.

"I love you," he whispered. Your eyes filled with tears once more.

"I love you too," you mumbled back.

You knew you both meant it.

Maybe that's what hurt the most.

#snk x reader #aot x reader #reiner braun x reader #reiner x reader #reiner braun #reiner braun angst #reiner angst #snk angst #aot angst #reiner x you #reiner x y/n #attack on titan reiner #shingeki no kyojin reiner

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sparkledfirecracker · 3 years

Text

Sunny Fall Out

Synth’s 5K Follower Challenge / How it started – How’s it going?

@syntheticavenger , again congrats on reaching 5K 😊!

Title: Sunny Fall Out

Pairing: Frank Adler x Female Reader

Challenge: Frank Adler / Babysitting Mary

Warning: Swearing and fluff

My blog is an 18+ only zone, minors do not interact. Don’t let the fluff fool you.

A/N: My second entry for Synt’s 5K follower challenge. This fluff entered my brain while working on this dark filthy twisted mobster story. Took a break to write up this fluffy drabble for the lovely anon who requested this for the challenge. Lightly proofread, so all mistakes are my own. ENJOY!

Pictures for moodboard found on Pinterest, credit to the respectful owners!

How it started:

Frank Adler, your next door neighbour, with his complicated character. He was your weakness, his toned physique, his hard working ethic and his devotion to Mary. Exhaustion had overtaken your body when Frank ambushed you. There he had stood; practically begging you to watch Mary for a couple of hours. Roberta being out for the day and he had no-one else to turn to.

You loved that little girl and wouldn’t — nor couldn’t — say no to an opportunity to watch her. Even when you were exhausted and all you wanted to do was catch up on some much needed sleep.

Hours had been filled with chatter, pillow fort building and currently; watching a movie allowing you to doze off. It hadn’t been long when your nap was interrupted, the snuggled up girl moving with impatience.

“How about we paint some nails?” You croak

“YES!” An exciting peep from the small human. “What colour?”

“We can check, there is tons of different shades.” You smiled, getting up and grabbing your keys out of your bag. “I’ll be right back, don’t burn down the house, okay?”

“I won’t.” A mini promise before you hurried next door.

Only briefly getting used to the comfort of your home. You grabbed the small basket with nail polishes and remover. Running back and settling back down in the homemade fort. It hadn’t taken you long to decide on a colour, pink with a glittery shimmer.

“Mary, sit still.” You chirped firming your hold.

“You’re tickling me.” The foot in your hand tried to wriggle out of your grasp. Loud giggles erupting from the small body on your opposite.

“If you keep this up you’ll have more nail polish on your skin than the actual toenails.” You giggle, hearing the door open and keys being tossed on the table with a loud thud.

Frank leaned his hands down on the table. He looked like he had a rough day with whatever he had to do.

“We’re painting toenails.” Mary gleamed showing him the foot we were working on.

“Are you serious?” He sounded aggravated. Mary’s face dropped at Franks annoyed words. Assuming she’d experienced a minor outburst from him before. You couldn’t get a good read on him and opted for the immediate apology.

“Sorry, I thought it might be okay, since it’s only her toenails -- they can be hidden.” Screwing the brush back on the bottle. “I should have asked first.”

“You should have indeed.” He growled

“Mary come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” The disappointed pout on her pale face made your heart sink. Getting up and holding your hand out for her.

“Thanks for watching her, but I didn’t expect to come back to all this girly nonsense and fucking mess.” Frank grumbled. His impatience growing when you weren’t moving fast enough “Just leave it and get out already.” His annoyance had softened when he spoke the harsh words, too late for an apology now.

“Shut up Frank, I thought it was a nice gesture.” Dropping Mary’s hand and pushing past Frank’s body. You turned around to look at him. “You just didn’t have to be a dick about it.” Slamming the door on your way out.

Large steps taken to your house next door, balled fists by your side while you mumbled angrily to yourself. Fighting the tears that were threatening to fall from being exhausted and emotional, clearly the lack of sleep coursing your body. A squeal escaped when you were tugged -- a little too roughly -- on your arm, making you spin around. Frank!

“Leave me alone, you ignorant prick.” You tried breaking free from his grasp, hitting his arm with your free hand.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry won’t cut it.” You spat tears now streaming down your cheeks from the overwhelming tiredness consuming your body.

“It’ll have to do”

“It won’t and you know what,” You took in a sharp breath “You’re such an asshole you know that? I did something nice for Mary and here you come, barging in and being all rude and taking your shitty mood out on me. She looked devastated about having to take off some innocent nail polish. I did you a favour when you practically begged me to babysit her. It is just nail polish, Frank, not a full blown makeover to become the next pageant queen of the state…”

The anger unleashed onto him had made you feel slightly better. Before you could speak two large hands had pulled you in and enveloped your lips harshly. The shock made time stand still and then your thoughts recollected themselves at what was happening. Trying to push him off.

“I am really sorry,” Frank looks down at you taking in your features, his cheeks blushed. “I shouldn’t have taken out my rough day on you, it’s just -- it’s just Evelyn making life difficult for a second time ‘round”

You knew his mother was ruthless when it came to Mary. He had told you some small stuff, but knew their relationship was complicated. You’d seen her once and she made shivers run down your spine. She didn’t look like a pleasant person to be around.

Your face softened at his explanation “You want to talk about it over a couple of beers?”

“No, I don’t”

“You don’t want beer? I am truly shocked.” You feigned a gasp, clutching your chest in shocked surprise.

“I want the beer; I don’t want to talk -- I want to make it up to you.”

“For what exactly, Frank?”

“Being an asshole, can I persuade you with an offer of beer and pizza?” It wasn’t really a question, but it was a nice sincere suggestion.

You contemplated for a moment, you grabbed his face and risen to your toes. Pulling him down in your cradled grip and pressing your lips gently to his.

“Does this mean she can paint my nails again?” Mary shouted from the door. Breaking away from the kiss, Frank let’s out a grunt and you both turn your head towards the blonde girl grinning widely in the opening.

“MARY! Get inside”

“Play nice asshole.” With a giggle you slapped his chest playfully.

How’s it going – 6 months later

Your sundress clung to your body, yelping at the cold water from the exploded water balloon. You’re quick to grab the hose holding it in Mary’s direction, joyful shrieks filling the air.

“STOP! STOP!” She yelled, trying to fight her way towards you.

“No, you started it, you’ll finish it.” You laughed continuing to pour the cold water on her.

She fell down and let out a frustrated sob. You initially thought she’d gotten hurt, but when you reached her she full blown sprayed you with her water gun.

“That’s cheating.” You protested, you turn your head at the large grumble from the familiar truck you had been waiting to see. Mischief coursing through your body and you look down at Mary who expresses the same delight as you. “Let’s get Frank.”

“YES!!!” The exhilaration clearly visibly, jumping up and down.

Hiding around the corner you watch Frank approach the house, unknowingly, scanning through the mail. Mary runs up to him with her water gun and you throw some water balloons his way. Hitting him on his head and arm.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME!” Frank growled looking at the both of you giggling. “This is how I get welcomed home?” He opened the door and tossed the mail inside, before returning with a wide grin, grabbing a filled bucket by the door and running your way.

“RUN” Mary shrieked heading off, Frank followed in her tracks. Grabbing her by the arm and locking her between his legs. Her frantic movements were no match to his firm hold and she screeches when the cold water is poured down on her.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the interaction. Frank whispers something in her ear and she nods. He lets her go and he waves at you, raising your eyebrow in confusion, but soon realize that Mary is running your way.

“You traitor.” You chuckle pointing towards Mary.

Running away quickly, sprinting around the house trying to dodge Mary. She launches her small body at you, hanging onto you like a Koala. It has clearly slowed you down and before you know it Frank catches you, securing you in his grasp. Mary let’s go and runs away.

“I missed you.” You muse giving him a quick peck on his lips, batting your eyelashes at him.

“I missed you too, but that cute look is not going to charm me.” He places a gentle kiss on your lips, pulling back giving you a devilish look. “We’ve got other ways to deal with naughty girls like you.” With ease Frank lifts you over your shoulder, you slap his ass animatedly trying to get him to put you down.

#frank adler #frank adler x reader #frank adler x you #frank adler x female reader #frank adler x y/n #frank adler smut #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x reader #lilos masterlist #synths5kfollowerchallenge #lilo writing

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qitwrites · 3 years

Text

breaking ground

Fandom: boku no hero academia

Pairing: Kirishima Eijirou / Bakugou Katsuki

(AO3)

The thing about your best friend/roommate/long-time crush/probably the love of your life being in a coma is that it sucks. Like, a lot.

‘Kats, if you don’t wake up, I will hide a dirty sock somewhere in your room. Somewhere you’ll never find it. And you’ll just have to live with that.’

The machines beep in the back, like a ghastly metronome.

‘I will move your desk 3 inches to the left.’

The soft rise and fall of the blonde’s chest is uniform, lungs contracting and expanding and contracting over and over.

‘I will literally stop watering the orchid Kats, I swear to god.’

Bakugou’s hands are by his side, nails longer than he’d ever keep. Kirishima makes a mental note to trim and file them later.

‘Ok, that’s going too far. I’d never kill Lucy, at least not on purpose.’

Bakugou continues to breathe with the help of a machine too complicated for Kirishima to understand, and the redhead just wants his best friend back. Because it’s been 16 days of Bakugou being fed and kept alive by a machine, it’s been 16 days since he heard his voice, saw his feral smile, looked into his bright, bright, bright eyes. And Kirishima is so ready for this nightmare to be over.

‘Come on Kats,’ Kirishima mumbles, laying his head down on the hospital bed and gently lacing his fingers with Bakugou’s, ‘you gotta wake up man. Our kitchen misses you. Our plants miss you. The neighbour’s cat misses you. Your mom misses you. I- fuck, I miss you.’

The machines continue to beep, his chest rises and falls uniformly, and Kirishima really just wants his best friend back.

The Bakusquad (the official immortalized name of the gang) lets Kirishima stay in the hospital in 3 days bursts, following which they bodily throw him out. For fresh air and some sunlight, they say, like he’s a dying plant.

‘You need to shower in your own home,’ Kaminari grumbles, stuffing his dirty clothes in a bag.

Sero pulls a beanie over his head. ‘And also water the plants in the balcony.’

Ashido stuffs his wallet into his pant pocket and slips his phone into his hand. ‘Also, don’t forget to dust the bookshelves! And leave some fresh water for Queens.’ She pulls him down for a soft kiss on the cheek.

Jirou pulls the phone from his hand, fiddles with it for a moment before slipping it back into his palm. She places a pair of wireless Beats headphones over his beanie, and he hears the first notes of a piano piece, calm and really lovely.

‘Playlist is on there,’ Jirou says, pointing at his hand.

And so Kirishima goes home, the home he shares with Bakugou, and he waters their plants, and dusts the bookshelves, and does some laundry and cooks easy fried rice the blonde had drilled into his brain.

He doesn’t look at Bakugou’s room door, doesn’t venture inside, doesn’t touch his space. He sticks to the common areas and his own room, and he keeps it clean and tidy, the way Bakugou likes it.

He’ll get to the blonde’s room eventually, just not yet.

Red Riot and Ground Zero are a hero pair. What this means is that they work individually when they want, and they pair up for bigger, more difficult missions.

And what a pair they make.

Riot is a wall, a shield, an unbreakable defence, always the last man standing. And Ground Zero is an explosion, a burst of light, an offence so quick and forceful the villains never stand a chance. They’re one of the best pairs out there, and they’ve done some amazing work.

It's almost stupidly ironic that Bakugou gets hurt during one of their paired missions.

The case involved several strong villains that attacked schools, and between rescue and evacuation and dealing with villains, Red Riot and Ground Zero had their hands full. Riot was mostly with the civilians and Ground Zero was keeping the damage to a minimum, but before Kirishima could go to Bakugou’s side and assist him, the damage had been done.

Because the last villain Bakugou had to deal with had decided to implode, killing himself and taking Bakugou out with him.

The damage had been immense.

Several concussions and broken ribs, bruises and internal bleeding that could only be controlled with a mix of surgeries and healing quirks. And finally, a waiting game. Bakugou had to wake up, his body had to heal itself and decide when and if he was going to wake up again.

And so Kirishima waits with him, silently supporting him from the side, ever patient, brimming with love.

25 days after the attack, Kirishima finally walks into Bakugou’s room.

The air smells faintly like sugar, like his quirk. The walls are bare but for the few polaroids Kirishima tacks on the wall above his desk. The laptop and file folders are sitting atop his table, a thin layer of dust coating them, and the only messy thing is his unmade bed.

Kirishima crawls under his sheets, breaths in his scent, and for the first time since Bakugou had decided to be an ass and slip into a coma, the redhead cries. Giant sobs that seem to come from his core, fat tears rolling down his cheeks, snot dripping out his nose.

Kirishima cries with the force of a thousand suns, and falls asleep right there, twisted in Bakugou’s sheets, in his unmade bed, in the middle of a room covered in a thin, fine layer of dust, smelling only slightly like burnt, warm sugar.

A month after the attack, Kirishima finally cleans Bakugou’s room.

Mina had made a good point. ‘If you don’t clean his room, it’s like you’re saying he’s not coming back so there’s no point. So, clean his room Eijirou.’

He appreciates that they don’t offer to do it. It’s usually impossible to keep them out of their apartment, impossible to keep them from getting belligerently drunk and playing monopoly on the living room floor while blasting 2000’s hits and throwing pieces of pepperoni at each other. Impossible to not love them.

But right now, the apartment is off-limits, and they seem to understand this. And respect it. And they understand that he needs a push here, a nudge there, and a gentle shove here to get his ass moving, to do the things he’s scared of doing, the things that just need to be done anyway

Kirishima loves them, so so much.

And so, he cleans. He dusts everything, puts Bakugou’s sheets in the wash and hangs his comforter out to dry. He fluffs up the All Might plushie and makes the bed, vacuums the floor, and puts his folded laundry back where it belongs in the closet.

He finds the box when he’s reorganizing Bakugou’s hero gear drawer. It’s a black box, smooth to the touch, no bigger than Kirishima’s palm, with just 2 words printed on top.

Death Box.

Its existence isn’t shocking to Kirishima. After all, he has one of his own, tucked neatly under his hanging jackets, pushed to the very back.

A Death Box is a pro-hero thing. It’s no secret that the life of a hero is riddled with danger and that one bad day could be the end. Every pro knows this. And most pro-heroes have a Death Box.

The contents of the box vary from person to person. Some leave behind letters addressed to friends and family. Others leave wills and assets and final testaments. Some leave behind cryptic messages or dramatic last words.

Kirishima never wondered about Bakugou’s box, and Bakugou had never asked about his own. But today, 31 days after the attack, 31 days of no Bakugou, 31 days of waking up with an ache in his chest because Kirishima’s heart is literally breaking, he finds himself gently pulling the box out and sitting on Bakugou’s bed, turning it over in his hands.

It’s really simple- no patterns or designs or anything. It's black as midnight, the lettering orange. Kirishima gently pops the box open and inside lays a single pen-drive. Nothing else.

Kirishima stares at it for a long, long time. He almost puts the box back in the drawer with the pen drive safely nestled inside, he almost forgets what he ever saw, he almost acts like he’s fine.

But he’s not fine. He’s so far from fine he can’t even spell the word. And he misses his friend with a pain so sharp he feels it in his bones. So Kirishima picks the pen drive up and takes it to the laptop. He switches the system on, plugs the drive in and waits for the program to load up.

Surprisingly, it isn’t password protected. He skims over the contents briefly. There’s a folder named Will and Final Testaments that he ignores completely. There’s another folder named Personal Project that he also leaves alone. The third folder is titled for everyone, and Kirishima clicks on that.

The folder is filled with video files of varying lengths. Each video is named after a specific person, and Kirishima smiles when he sees one for Bakugou’s mom, his dad, each of the Bakusquad, one for All Might, and one for Midoriya. The Deku video is easily bigger than all the others, all except one.

Because the one titled Shitty Hair is close to 45 minutes long.

Kirishima inhales shakily, and for once, he hesitates. Because once he watches this, he knows Bakugou will well and truly kill him. These videos, this content, it’s meant to be consumed after he dies. Not when he’s in a coma, not when he’s alive and fighting for his life. Not when he’s doing his best to come back.

But here’s the thing- Kirishima isn’t watching this because he thinks Bakugou’s as good as gone. He doesn’t believe that one bit. No, Kirishima is watching this because he misses Bakugou so much, so much that his insides feel like they're shredding up into little bits and pieces, and Kirishima just wants to hear him bark out his ugly laugh, he wants to see his eyes dance with mirth, he wants to watch Bakugou dump too much chilli into the curry and wrap himself into a blanket burrito on their couch in the dead of winter, cursing the weather viciously. He never thought he’d miss the way someone said fuck so much in his life, yet here he is.

So Kirishima inhales shakily, breathes out in a whoosh and hits play.

2 years ago

Bakugou had put off recording Kirishima’s message for years.

The one to his parents was simple enough. Dad, thank you for being some kinda balance in the house, and for loving me ridiculously unconditionally. Hag, ma, we’ve always had our own issues and we love so violently, but I do love you. I always have. Thank you for making me the devil spawn I am, couldn’t have been so great if it weren’t for you.

The Bakusquad (ugh, what a dumb name) had a video each. They weren’t super long, but he loved them all, more than they’d ever know when he’s alive, and he thought they deserved to know if he ever died before getting around to drunkenly confessing it or something.

Sero, your stupid fucking jokes have made some shitty days so much better.

Jirou, you’re insanely strong and you’ve had my back on more occasions than I can count.

Mina, my girl, you’re the OG. Thank you for never giving up on me, for always pushing me to be part of the gang, for becoming my friend.

Kaminari, you’re always gonna be hella fucking stupid, but you’re my stupid friend, one of my closest buddies, and it was a pleasure knowing you.

He might actually die if they find this when he's alive, but that’s the whole point of Death Box- it's to say the things you can't when you're alive or to remind people of the things you felt after you’re gone.

Midoriya’s had been hard. Midoriya’s had been really hard.

Unpacking so many emotions, talking about the past, UA, the present; it made his blood boil but also made him immeasurably sad. After their first year, Midoriya and he had grown close. They still found it difficult to communicate like normal human beings, but they always had each other’s backs, no matter where or what. And even as pro-heroes, they worked together wonderfully, competed for #1 fiercely, pushed each other to incredible heights, and picked each other up after terrible missions.

Deku, I know so much of our past is water under the bridge for you, and that’s been great for us because it lets us have a sort of friendship. But I haven’t forgotten. I will never forgive myself and all I could do is be better.

For all the fucked up shit that we’ve been through, for how much I still get angry when I see you and how much I want to be better than you all the time, you are the brother I never had, the comrade that never left, the friend that I’ve never deserved.

Izuku, thank you. I’m sorry.

Admitting to most of these things isn’t difficultly because it’s all true. And honesty has always come easily to Bakugou. As an adult hero, he’s learned things about himself, his own feelings, his own version of love for the people around him. And he can’t bring himself to say those exact words to Izuku, but he hopes his actions (Bentos pressed into Midoriya’s hands after long patrols, sharing beers on rooftops, patching each other up after shitty missions) are message enough.

But Kirishima? How is he supposed to find the words to tell Kirishima how he feels? How much the redhead means to him? Where does he even begin?

Bakugou huffs and slaps himself on both cheeks. Kirishima is out for the day, taking Mina shopping at the mall and catching a movie with the gang, a plan Bakugou had gotten himself out of just so he could sit here, in the apartment he shares with the only person he has ever had the good fortune of being in love with, to record a final message. What a happy thought.

Bakugou thinks Fuck it, takes a seat in front of the camera, ruffles his hair, and hits record.

‘Hey Shitty Hair.’

Hey Shitty Hair.

There are handprints on Bakugou’s face. His hair is a ruffled mess, his bed is unmade behind him, and his face looks almost nervous.

Kirishima doesn’t think about any of that.

Because seeing Bakugou on-screen with his red eyes boring into Kirishima, and hearing his voice, rough and loud and well-worn feels like the first breath of fresh air the redhead has gulped down in a month. It feels like a well-placed punch to the gut, and Kirishima almost bowls over, overwhelmed beyond comprehension.

He misses him so much.

Fuck, making this video is fucking hard, I’m not even sure where to start. Also, you better not be crying like a baby Ei, I sweat to God, I might be dead, but you still need to go out there and kick ass cause someone needs to take care of all those shitty villains.

Kirishima makes an aborted sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, because this is his best friend in the entire universe, the man he knows better than he knows himself. This is his person.

Anyway, I made a bunch of other videos for all the other losers, but yours has been the biggest pain in my ass. I guess the closer you are to someone, the harder it is right?

First off, I need to say thank you. For like, so much shit. Thank you for taking those first few steps in our friendship. For constantly pestering me and inserting yourself into my life. For training with me, including me in all kinds of stupid activities, and getting me into the gang. My time at UA would never have been so fun, so memorable, so amazing without you. You made it great, despite all the shit that went wrong.

The blonde sucks in a deep breath and his eyes pierce straight through Kirishima, peering right into his soul.

We don’t talk about Kamino because there’s never been the words. Ei, I was so scared. Fuck, I was so scared I couldn’t stop shaking. And then there you were, flying above me, hand outstretched and yelling at the top of your goddamn lungs ‘Come!’ And that’s it. I knew I’d be ok. I knew I’d be just fine.

And yeah, I mean, the pros were there and maybe we could’ve figured something else out and maybe things would’ve worked out a different way. But you guys coming for me, YOU reaching out to me? It was the first time I felt like I had friends. I had comrades. I had people. Of course, my emotionally stunted ass refused to accept these feelings, but they took root then. And continued to grow.

Bakugou sighs deeply and sits back in his chair. He looks at the ceiling and continues.

I’m not sure I know what love is. As a feeling, I don’t know how to categorize when I’m feeling love and when I’m not. At least, I didn’t for the longest time.

Bakugou looks back at the camera, and Kirishima’s vision is starting to blur dangerously.

I know I love my parents, but it feels different than the love I feel for the idiot brigade. It’s different from what I feel for Izuku. And it sure as hell feels different from the love I feel for you.

Bakugou sighs again, and his face breaks into the softest smile Kirishima has ever seen and everything hurts.

A few years ago, I think weeks after we’d moved into this place, we were making breakfast and you looked me dead in the eye and said ‘I think the morning glories are trying to kill me.’ And I laughed out loud and you looked so proud of yourself and I thought, ‘Shit, Ei is such an idiot.’ That’s when it hit me.

Bakugou’s smile grows fonder.

I don’t call people by their names even in my head Ei. You were Shitty Hair for most of our first year at UA. Then you became Kirishima, and then somehow it became Kiri, and then Eijirou and then Ei. Nobody, and I mean absolutely nobody else, is the same. Not a single fucking person.

The first time I called you Ei in my head, that’s when I realized I was in love with you.

Kirishima hits pause immediately. He closes the window, safely ejects the pen drive, puts it back in the box and returns it to its spot. He shuts the laptop down, walks out of Bakugou’s room and sits on the couch in the living area, the same one they’ve passed out on countless times, the same one they bought together with their first paychecks, the same one that’s stained with coffee rings and spaghetti sauce and pepperoni grease.

He picks his phone up on autopilot and dials a familiar number.

‘Kiri?’ Mina sounds like a hot cup of coffee on a chilly Tuesday morning.

‘Please come home.’

He hears some rustling and yelling in the background before Mina says, ‘Stay right there, we’ll be over as soon as Midoriya gets here ok?’

Kirishima hums out an affirmative and hangs up. It’s time they come home.

67 days after the fight, Kirishima gets a call.

‘He’s awake.’

Red Riot is back on the streets, patrolling during the day, staying with Bakugou in the hospital at night and barely keeping his shit together. But it’s ok, it kinda works. Works well enough that he can do his job and do it well, and his friends are always there, picking up his pieces, keeping him sane.

Before Kirishima can say anything, Midoriya continues, ‘Chargebolt is almost at your location to relieve you, so go.’

He takes off running. His lungs burn and he can barely see where he’s going but he’s made this walk so many times he can do it in his sleep. He runs as fast as his legs can take him and makes them go faster.

Kirishima bursts into the hospital and takes the stairs 3 at a time. He finally gets to Bakugou’s floor and sprints to the door, and he can barely pull in enough air. He’s lightheaded, his heart is palpitating, and his vision is blurry but he slides the door open anyway.

Carmine eyes snap over to his and time just comes to a complete standstill. There are no doctors, no nurses. There’s no Bakugou Mitsuki, no beeping machines that breathe for him, no beeping machines that feed him, no white sterile walls and ugly hospital gowns. There is only Bakugou Katsuki, his bright, bright, bright eyes and a hand outstretched at Kirishima.

‘Ei-‘

And that’s it. One moment he’s standing in the doorway, the next he has Bakugou gathered in his arms, and he’s so warm and alive and it’s absolutely everything.

‘Kats,’ Kirishima mumbles. ‘Kats.’

‘Ei, if you start crying, I will smack the shit out of you.’

Kirishima’s laugh is watery. He pulls away and cups Bakugou’s face, smooshing his cheeks a little.

‘Kats, for once, shut the fuck up and let me feel my feelings. Do you have any idea how much the plants missed you?’

Bakugou’s mouth twists in a grimace but his eyes soften till they’re just liquid ruby and Kirishima falls a little more in love.

‘Just the plants?’

‘Shut the fuck up Kats.’ And Kirishima hugs him again, presses Bakugou’s face firmly into the crook of his neck. The blonde’s arms tighten around his middle, and the world feels whole again.

A week after they return from the hospital, Bakugou finds a white envelope in the morning glories, the very same ones that Kirishima had insisted were trying to kill him.

To Kats it says in Kirishima’s untidy scrawl. Bakugou puts the watering can down and picks the letter up gently, opening it with trembling hands.

Dear Katsuki,

My Death Box has a bunch of letters in them. I wrote one for mom, one for mama, one for all our friends, I wrote letters to all of them.

Yours was the hardest because even after writing and rewriting it 5 times, it was always the same- all I can write to you is a love letter.

Bakugou doesn’t read the rest, just snaps his head up and looks around wildly.

‘EIJIROU, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YO-‘

‘I love you Kats.’ Kirishima is right there, standing by the balcony door, eyes wide and hopeful. He’s wearing sweatpants low on his hips, and in each hand, he holds a mug of steaming hot chocolate spiked with chilli. Mexican cocoa. Bakugou’s favourite.

He puts the mugs down on the balcony ledge. ‘I’ve loved you for so long, I don’t remember what it’s like to not be in love with you.’

‘Eijirou-‘

‘I love you.’ Kirishima steps forward and frames Bakugou’s face with his warm, calloused hands, and smiles big. ‘What about you?’

Bakugou scoffs. ‘What do you think, Shitty Hair?’

‘Gotta hear you say it, Kats.’

‘You’re a pain in my ass.’

‘I know.’

‘You’re so annoying.’

‘I agree.’

‘Your hair still sucks.’

‘Your nose twitches when you lie.’

‘And I love you so much anyway.’ Bakugou finishes and places his hands over Kirishima’s and squeezes.

‘Don’t start crying Ei.’

‘Let me feel my feelings, Kats.’

‘I’m not kissing you if you’re covered in fucking snot.’

Kirishima laughs at that, pulling Bakugou close. ‘Your nose still twitches when you lie.’

Bakugou doesn’t deign that with a response, just smirks his trademark smirk, looks at Kirishima with those bright, bright, bright eyes and kisses him stupid.

‘Again,’ Kirishima mumbles.

Bakugou does just that.

#boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha fanfiction #mha #my hero fanfic #kiribaku #bakushima #bnha kirishima #bakugou katsuki #bakusquad #ashido mina #sero hanta #kaminari denki #THANKS TO MY BEST FRIEND FOR NAMING THE FIC AND READING IT ONE BILLION TIMES #so this story is hurt/comfort and so much fluff #I LOVE KIRIBAKU SO MUCH ITS ABSURD #hope you enjoy :D

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alinastracker · 3 years

Text

malina week day 5 — free choice

false saint

a smutty one-shot inspired by taylor swift’s “false god” (ao3)

Alina Starkov had been one of the most powerful Grisha alive once, a saint —though a false one — to most of Ravka.

Maybe it was time to step into a different kind of power.

ruin and rising spoilers!

For the first time since they opened Keramzin up to Ravka’s orphaned children six months ago, the halls were quiet. Gone were the sounds of running feet and squealing laughter. Even though they only had four children, not including Misha, currently staying at the orphanage, happy children were often loud children, and it was the young couple’s top priority that the kids they took in were happy — as happy as any child who’s lost everything could be.

The quiet was oddly startling, even though Alina knew that the children were perfectly fine, out on a trip into town with their teacher, Karine, and the orphanage’s gruff cook, Stasia.

“Children should learn about their food early,” the woman had insisted, and so the little field trip into town had been planned. Karine went with, partly because five children were a handful for one woman, and partly because some of the children were still rather intimidated by Stasia.

The children were safe, and Alina was enjoying the quiet. But every now and then, caught off guard by the stillness, came a flicker of panic, and she had to remind herself once more. The children are safe. The Darkling is dead.

And though the home was quiet, she was not alone.

Alina pressed her forehead against one of the full length windows of the upstairs reading nook. They had wanted this room to be comfy and bright, and the large windows that faced the back of the property certainly assured that. She could see Mal down there, tending to the garden, his hands deep inside of the dirt. For a moment, she let all of her worries float away and pictured his fingers deep inside of her instead. She had to squeeze her thighs together as heat rushed to her center, demanding friction.

The sun was shining brightly through the window, and so she angled herself to stand fully in its rays. Alina brought her hand up, letting her fingers play in the light, forcing her sinful thoughts away. She couldn’t say how long she stayed that way, lost in her longing, but it was long enough that Mal had finished in the garden and had come to sneak up behind her.

“Playing with the light again?” he murmured as his arms wrapped around her.

Alina nodded, leaning back against his chest.

Mal pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “Want to talk about it?”

It was what they always asked each other when they got into these moods, when she became entranced with the sunlight, and he found himself stuck silent and still in the woods. Sometimes the longing hurt, and sometimes it was just the pull to be in the element again — welcoming an old friend, rather than feeling the hole left in its absence.

“I was just thinking that I miss the feeling sometimes,” Alina sighed. “When I summoned, it was like every inch of my skin was brushed with the softest warmth. I can feel something close to it sometimes, standing in the light like this. Just not as . . . wholly.”

Mal was quiet for a moment, and she knew if she looked over her shoulder, she’d find the small pinch between his brows that indicated he was thinking. She knew the exact moment when his mind had come to a conclusion, feeling the way his body relaxed.

“Perhaps,” he murmured, angling himself so his lips just brushed her ear as his hands moved to grip her hips, “it would help if the sun could hit every inch of you.”

Desire returned thick between her thighs, if it had ever truly gone away. “What are you implying?”

“I think you know.”

He was right, she knew exactly what he meant. But they were out in the open, standing right in front of a window. The children were gone, though. The staff, too. There would always be the chance that someone came stumbling into their backyard and looked up, but maybe the risk made it all the better.

She had been one of the most powerful Grisha alive once, a saint —though a false one — to most of Ravka.

Maybe it was time to step into a different kind of power.

She took one slow, steady breath, channeling her confidence.

“Then undress me, Malyen.”

Mal tensed for a singular breath, then brought his hands around her again, feeling his way up her chest until his fingers found the first button of her shirt. He took his time undoing each one, letting their skin brush each time more of her was bared. When he had the last button undone, the shirt was tossed lazily away. Mal’s hands continued their journey down her body, though her skirt took considerably less time to remove.

Standing in nothing but her under clothes, Alina closed her eyes, soaking in the feeling of the sunlight brushing new parts of her. She thought for a moment that Mal might stop here. It could be enough, even if she still craved more.

But he didn’t stop.

Mal hooked his fingers into the band of her underwear, and when she didn’t object, tugged them down. Alina stepped carefully out of the fabric, brushing it away with her foot. His fingers crawled up her backside then, and a moment later, her bra fell to the floor, letting the light consume her whole.

Alina let her head fall back against Mal’s shoulder, bringing her hands up just as she used to when using her power. It wasn’t quite the same warmth that summoning had brought her, but it was something.

Mal pressed his lips to the side of her neck and whispered, “Sankta.”

Encompassed in the light, she almost felt like one. Mal had always had blind faith in her, had died for her. But saints had to prove they were worth the title.

Alina turned, meeting his eyes. Mal could’ve sworn some of the light had stayed twinkling in her brown orbs.

“Let me give you something to worship,” she said, and dropped to her knees.

Mal sucked in a sharp breath, but made no move to stop her as she worked to undo his trousers, dragging them down. His underwear came next, his half-hard cock happy to spring free.

“You don’t have to—” he started. Alina shushed him. She spit into her hand — rather unceremonious for a saint, but alas — and gripped him. Any lingering words of Mal’s fell to the wayside as he moaned.

It took very little time for him to harden fully with her stroking him. Still, she waited until he couldn’t possibly throb more for her, his cock hard as steel and bulging, before she brought him to her lips and sucked the tip of him into her mouth.

Mal cursed fervently, his hand forming a fist in the tangles of her silky, pale hair.

Alina swirled her tongue around him, dipping into the place where his desire gathered for her, only encouraged by his curses and the almost painful pull on her scalp. His words were like a prayer, and he only got louder as she took in more of him, swallowing him down her throat even as her body protested.

She still didn’t know if his size was a blessing or a curse.

Mal was on the edge from the sight of her alone, those pretty lips he had spent years dreaming about perfectly parted around his cock. He saw the tears in her eyes, though, and so he began to pull back, only for Alina to grip his ass, nails digging into the skin of his backside. Let me, her eyes said, determined. And fuck if it didn’t make his hips thrust against her mouth.

“Alina,” he moaned.

Her response was a brief, but not gentle, scrape of her teeth against him. Mal hissed, but he didn’t need to look at her to know where he had gone wrong

“Sankta,” he moaned instead, and it felt right.

Even if she was a false saint, their love — and everything that came with it — was like their own personal religion, blind and eternal. Though the moan that ripped from Mal’s throat as his release hit was anything but holy.

And this was what Alina had wanted more than anything — to bring him to the edge and push him over. It was a different kind of power, and she let the evidence of it dribble down her chin, droplets landing on her breasts and chest. Different than the blood a saint usually ended up covered in. Different, and much better.

When she finished milking his release out of him, Alina stood. Backlit by the sun, she looked as saintly as she ever had. Mal licked his lips as he greedily took in the sight of her. She had, undoubtedly, given him something to worship.

As any righteous man of faith would do before his saint, Mal dropped to his knees. It was not the first time Alina had driven men to kneel before her, and it would not be the last.

“Sankta Alina,” he whispered, bringing his lips to the altar between her thighs, his tongue forming a prayer that felt better than Alina thought possible.

But it wasn’t just a prayer, it was a whole sermon — every lick, suck, and plunge a promise of his allegiance. He had her mewling and trembling above him in minutes, barely able to keep herself standing as he pushed her past her limits. And she thought, as he rose with his lips glistening from her cunt, that service was over. But Mal only turned her over and pressed her naked body against the window. The glass chilled her bare skin even as the sunlight warmed it.

Mal had his lips at her ear again. “I’m not done worshipping you yet,” he murmured, and smoothly thrust his hard-again cock inside of her.

If anyone walked by outside or came into the reading nook, there would be no hiding their heavenly sinful act. To her surprise, Alina found the slightest thrill at a stranger discovering such a display. And as Mal fucked her with relentless devotion, she sent a prayer to the true saints that the glass held true.

This time, they jumped over the edge together, in the way that only the faithful could. Screams on their lips, sweat dripping down their necks, pleasure so intense that it could only be called a religious experience.

After, Mal scooped her into his arms and brought them to their room. He sat Alina on the bed, leaving briefly to gather wet rags for them. With a gentleness quite opposite from their frantic fucking, Mal cleaned the spend from her body, then his own, before taking the spot beside her, curling his body around hers.

Though she may be a false saint, Alina could still feel the warmth of the sun on her skin as the peaceful call of sleep pulled her under, a smile on her face.

#malinaweek #malina #writing #fanfic #malina fanfic #and when i say smutty i mean SMUTTY THIS IS PURE SMUT OK?#anyway happy last day of malina week this has truly been the best #ruin and rising spoilers #alina starkov #malyen oretsev #also realize i could've done this for song day but this came to me like last night ok

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fullmetalscullyy · 3 years

Text

unknown

summary: Riza sustains her Promised Day injuries after Roy is left blinded by Truth

an: a few months ago i had the idea of “what if riza sustains her promised day injuries AFTER roy goes blind” and well. here u go

part 2 of a “what if” series. you can find part one here

rated: t | words: 2875 | tags: graphic depictions of violence, angst, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, promised day, canon divergence, royai

read on ao3 | part 1 of “what if”

“What is happening?”

The cacophony of noise and shouts drowned out Roy’s demand. His arm reached out – flailing – to try and locate Hawkeye. She’d been right by his side only a moment ago, a silent presence watching over and guiding him, but now there was nothing. No one. Just empty air which his fingers sliced through easily and without restriction.

Roy’s heart thudded within his chest. It started to pound, picking up its pace with fervour.

He had no way of knowing what was happening.

Someone bumped into from behind, sending him stumbling forward. Blind and unseeing.

Fear became prominent, for he started to recognise some of the sounds filtering into his brain. People were fighting. There was the clash of swords and grunts of effort as his teammates engaged with an unknown enemy.

Was this an attack from more people under Father’s influence?

If it was, then Roy was completely defenceless. Without Hawkeye beside him, he had no way to guide any kind of attack. If he lashed out in the hope of simply hitting something, not only would that be incredibly foolish, but he risked hurting his comrades.

“Sir.”

Suddenly, Hawkeye was close beside him once more. She placed a gentle hand upon his forearm and Roy felt his knees shake in response to the reassurances offered by her presence. His breath left him in a rush as relief surged into each of his limbs and spread across his chest like a salve. It calmed the panic, stilling it in its tracks.

He was not alone. She was right there.

“Sorry,” she apologised profusely. She sounded out of breath.

“Hawkeye?”

“Yes, sir. It’s me. Sorry, we were separated momentarily.”

“What’s happening?” He was desperate to know. He couldn’t bear not knowing. Roy’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together as he got a lid on his panic and tried to calm himself. The latter though was becoming more difficult. Not due to panic, but due to anger and frustration.

He’d been rendered blind against his will, forced to open the gate by the enemy, which now had left him well and truly useless. Defenceless. A burden to his peers. Unable to protect himself, his companions, or even see the enemy –

“More soldiers, like the ones who’d worked with the doctor down below. More Fuhrer experiments.”

Roy felt hatred burn within his gut and travel up to his chest. It was like heart burn, fierce and unrelenting, as he thought about what that doctor had threatened to do to Hawkeye, and what he had ended up doing to Roy.

He’d struck a bargain. Offered himself up to spare the lives of his comrades to the doctor as they held her at knifepoint. The doctor had been agreeable, but when Bradley appeared, that wasn’t good enough apparently. He and Pride had decided to take matters into their own hands and had restrained the doctor, lifting him from the ground and bundling him up none too kindly within a ball of… black, otherworldly limbs. He’d been left choking, his screams muffled behind Pride’s gag. It had made Roy shudder as the rest of them looked on, horrified.

The remaining failed Fuhrer experiments did not react, simply awaited an order from their leader. With the doctor incapacitated, it had been safe to assume that title now lay with Fuhrer President Bradley. That theory was quickly proven, as he ordered his men to capture Roy. A bargain would not do, because that opened them up to the possibility of an ambush. Dismayed that his plan had been guess, Roy frowned but was undeterred. Even as Bradley professed that Roy would open the gate, by any means necessary.

Whether he wanted to or not was out of the question. From the expression on his face and the fury burning within his eyes, Roy knew Bradley would give him no choice but to do so. And their refusal to let the others go could only mean one thing. The homunculi were more than willing to, and were planning to, use the others to ensure Roy cooperated with their plans. Threats would be made, and they would be made on his comrades’ lives.

Roy fought tooth and nail to ensure that didn’t happen. He’d never forgive himself if they were harmed because of him. The terror and fury fuelled his fight, pushing him forward to try and defeat the enemy.

But they couldn’t. Their small group was outmatched against them, now that they had two homunculi fighting on their side as well.

As Pride had moved – dragged – Roy into the circle – writhing and thrashing – Bradley disappeared in the blink of an eye to stand behind Hawkeye. He pressed a sword tight to her throat as he glowered at him.

“Go easily, Colonel Mustang, or she dies right here and now.”

Hawkeye’s stare was furious as she met Roy’s eyes, but not with him. It was with the predicament they’d been left in by the enemy. But the sight of her being threatened and the slow trickle of blood running down her throat was enough to still Roy’s being entirely. He went without a fight.

She’d watched on, terrified, as the blue light consumed him and forced him through the portal. Roy’s eyes never left hers. Even as the pain threatened to tear him apart and even with how he hated to subject her to such a display, he couldn’t tear himself away from them. Her eyes were such a comfort, such a place of peace for him. Looking into her molten gold irises always overwhelmed him with a feeling of being at home. She was his home, and he selfishly needed that as he was torn away from her, into the unknown while consumed with agony.

There was nothing that could be done to salvage the situation. They’d restrained her and the rest of their group as soon as Roy had been. Hawkeye was physically unable to fight them off and protect him. If she fought to try and break free from Bradley’s hold, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her.

And Roy couldn’t have that.

Neither could Hawkeye, for she too wouldn’t want to leave him behind, to fight this battle alone. They still had work to do after today, so she would not risk it.

They’d been left stuck. And he’d been left blind after going through the portal.

But he knew… He knew without even looking at her face there would be guilt written all over it. That she’d blame herself for his capture and his subsequent trip through the portal. And when he did look upon it, lying in that circle, bound and helpless, his fears were confirmed.

Hawkeye’s hand on his arm suddenly disappeared. There was a muffled cry from her, meaning someone had tried to keep her quiet as she was removed from his side. Indignation broiled within Roy as he opened his mouth to call out to whoever was moving her, but it didn’t quite mask the sudden spike of fear that almost choked the breath from him. Before he could speak, rough hands grabbed both his arms, jerking them behind his back painfully.

These were not of his friends.

“Hawkeye,” he barked, hoping, praying, for some kind of response. But there was nothing. He could hear nothing over the other sounds of the battle.

Roy was forced down to his knees, but he wasn’t sure why. He was helpless, unable to see anything or fight effectively. Still, his head swung from left to right desperately, forgetting his current condition. He felt that if he hoped enough and prayed enough he’d catch a glimpse of something, of her, but there was just the never-ending darkness.

Dread threatened to overwhelm him, fuelled by Hawkeye’s sudden disappearance, the hands that had grabbed him, and also by the unknown. He needed to know she was okay, he needed to see her, he needed to –

“Hawkeye!”

The cry of her name seemed to have been ripped Darius’ body. Roy’s head jerked up as he noticed Darius’ cry was laced with horror. It caused him to freeze. Roy’s blood ran cold within his veins, stilling and leaving him frozen on the spot.

Something was wrong.

But… But he couldn’t see what, or why. He couldn’t see her.

There was a clamour as more people called her name, each as worried and concerned as the other. Roy thrashed against the iron grip of the hands upon his body, but they wouldn’t be removed so easily.

Something has happened to her. Something’s gone wrong –!

“Mei! Where’s Mei,” Darius cried out.

“Mei!” Alphonse joined in. He sounded as desperate as Darius.

“We need her over here, now!”

Roy’s breath heaved within his chest. Something was very, very wrong, if they were calling for the assistance of the young girl who had the ability to heal the injured.

Hawkeye… Riza…

Roy didn’t even know if there was anyone around him who he could ask what had happened to her, to frantically demand an answer from –

The unknown assailant gripping his right arm faltered. Roy’s arm fell down heavily to his side. Whatever had caused him to fall and lose his grip had startled the person on Roy’s left. He wrenched his arm free and threw the body forward, swinging around to lash out with a kick. He braced his leg and contacted something solid. There was a quiet ‘oof’ but nothing after that.

“Colonel!”

His head whipped around to face the call. It was Alphonse. But Roy was like a caged animal, his body jerking from side to side as he tried to determine friend from foe. He backed up instinctively, moving away from the loud footsteps approaching him. Even if the clang of metal were familiar, anyone approaching him right now would have initiated the same response. He was overwhelmed with the horrible pictures within his mind’s eye as his brain conjured up ideas of things that may have befallen his Lieutenant.

It was being cruel.

“Colonel, it’s Alphonse.”

There was a sudden, but gentle pressure upon Roy’s shoulder. It felt heavy thanks to his suit of armour, and his touch caused Roy to automatically recoil and jerk his shoulder backwards and away, but it was still a comfort. It almost made Roy cry tears of joy.

He was not alone.

“Where’s Hawkeye?”

There was a brief pause. “She’s been injured.”

Roy was sure Alphonse had swept the ground out from underneath him.

“Easy, Colonel.” His other hand came to rest upon Roy’s upper arm, as if he was keeping him upright.

He was not far off. Roy’s legs quivered and his knees shook. Just a few minutes ago they’d done the same with relief. How he’d wished to be back to reliving that moment.

“Mei is working on her now. She’ll –” He cut himself off, and fair play to Alphonse, he did try to mask his pause with a cough, but it sounded fake and strangled. Roy picked it out easily. He was wound too tight and being too attentive not to notice, especially when it came to receiving information regarding Hawkeye’s current condition. “She’ll be okay,” Alphonse reassured.

“Where is she?”

Without a word Alphonse grasped his bicep and led him on a brisk walk. It couldn’t have been more than ten or so steps, but it felt like a lifetime.

Hawkeye, injured. How injured? What had happened to her? He needed to know!

“She was briefly restrained by one of the Fuhrer experiments,” Alphonse explained hurriedly, but his voice was gentle. Sympathetic. Apologetic. A tone one would use to soften the blow of very bad news. Roy knew was coming. He could feel it deep within his bones.

Roy fell to his knees once they stopped and after Alphonse gave him a gentle nudge forward. The ground beneath him felt different. There was an added texture to it, almost making his knees slide. It was slick, like damp moss. But… it felt warm too and… wet?

Blood.

“Hawkeye?” He breathed her name reverently. It was so full of hope, but it was a fool’s hope. He could not confirm her condition himself with his own eyes, so could not believe what he was being told by the others around him. However, the smell of blood and the feeling of it seeping into his trousers as he knelt down would not lie. He could not fake these sensations.

It made him want to vomit.

She’d been restrained and dragged away and hurt, and Roy hadn’t even known. Hadn’t even been able to stop it. Hadn’t attempted to do so either. He neglected to take note and reason that this was due to the fact he hadn’t even been aware. He couldn’t see, so how could he have been?

All because he hadn’t been smarter and fought harder against those in the tunnels below them to prevent his capture. If he hadn’t been blind, she wouldn’t have been injured so gravely.

A shuddering breath rattled passed Roy’s lips. It was pained as it was dragged from his lungs. He frantically reached out and came into contact with her head. He could feel her hair, soaked through with sweat – he hoped and prayed it was sweat, and not more blood – and Roy placed his palm against it. His body bowed over her head, eyes squeezing tightly closed.

“They got her throat,” Alphonse whispered.

Another breath ached within his chest.

“I’m sorry.” Alphonse sounded so broken, but Roy barely heard him.

The amount of blood that was pooling beneath him… Her throat had been cut.

Roy choked on nothing but everything at once. On every emotion surging to the surface at the realisation after piecing the evidence together. On his breath. He struggled to get its erratic behaviour under control.

“Hawkeye,” he stuttered. With one call to her, he poured all his grief and worry into it. All of his sorrow.

“Stand back,” Mei ordered.

He felt an arm firmly pushing him backwards, and reluctantly, Roy obeyed. He took his hand off Riza’s forehead, stopped stroking the skin above her eyebrows with his thumb, and did as he was told. He sat back on his heels, feeling broken and completely numb, as he waited for a reaction from someone else. He listened as intently as he could to try and gauge it if would be positive or negative.

Tears spilled over from his eyes silently after he closed them. His breath shuddered as he waited what felt like an eon.

There was no time to explain what was happening to Roy, he understood that. Rationally, he knew that. Plus, he would rather they all focussed on Hawkeye rather than going through with him what they were doing to help her, heal her, and ease her suffering. That’s all Roy wanted. That’s all he needed. He could live the rest of his life quite happily without his eyesight so long as Riza would be okay.

But it did kill him not to know, to not be aware of how Hawkeye was faring. To not be able to see if this injury was grave enough to result in her demise.

He needed her to be all right. He physically couldn’t bear the thought of the latter. The thought tore into his chest, shattered his heart into pieces, and left him breathless.

Please be okay, Riza.

“Hawkeye!”

There was a gasp from below him, and Roy started.

It came from Hawkeye.

Without another thought he lifted her shoulders from the blood-soaked floor and bundled her tight within his arms.

“You’re okay,” he exhaled with such relief that it made each of his limbs shake. He pressed a hand against the side of her head and cradled it close to his chest in an attempt to steady himself.

“Sir,” she croaked. Her voice was hoarse, but it was the most beautiful sound Roy had ever heard in his life. His heart soared as he held onto her even tighter. He couldn’t let go even if he tried. No one would pry her away from him in that moment, and given the fact they hadn’t even tried yet, Mei’s alkahestry must have been successful and there was no urgent need to see to Hawkeye.

“I’m sorry I disappeared –”

He shushed her gently. Repositioning his arms, he gripped her even tighter. Roy buried his face into her hair. His lips were right next to her ear as he whispered into it. “You have nothing to apologise for. I’m glad you’re all right. How are you feeling?”

“Sore.” He heard her swallow, but she nodded. “I’m all right, sir. Don’t worry,” she added, and Roy was unable to help himself from letting out a choked laugh at the absurdity of her statement. “Your eyes are back.” From her tone Roy could picture the wry smile on her face.

“That’s honestly the best news I’ve heard in my entire life,” he murmured.

He subtly pressed a kiss against the side of her head and held on tighter for a few moments longer. Roy noticed how one of her arms had slowly and weakly reached across her body to grip onto his overcoat as tightly as she could, anchoring herself to him.

#royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #royai oneshot #emma writes

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blossom-hwa · 3 years

Note

hi! i really liked your sungyoon fanfiction, light the pyres—apocalypse aus are great. very nervous to ask for your 4th anniv event but could i perhaps get kang yeosang + the title "3 of hearts?" (if anyone reading here knows what show it's from ily!)

hi love! light the pyres is actually one of the works I'm most proud of so it makes me so happy to hear that you liked it! thank you for your request - I'm not sure what 3 of hearts it from lol (maybe one of my followers does), but I hope you still enjoy this!

4 year anniversary drabble game: send me a Stray Kids/The Boyz/Golden Child/Ateez member + a prompt (check out the post for ideas) and I’ll write a drabble for you!

I guess this could be seen as a sort of spinoff of Kingdom (read the series here) - I haven’t posted the next parts yet, but this takes place in the Queendom of Hearts, which is where Checkmate is set :D like Kingdom, it’s heavily inspired by Marissa Meyer’s book “Heartless” - the story of a queen who went mad over love >:)

Uh so TXT Yeonjun is technically here but please don’t take my characterization of him as anything even close to who he is irl.... just think of it as me taking just his name and slapping it on a character I made I’m sorry

Title: Three of Hearts

Pairing: Yeosang x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Triggers: mentions of blood and death (semi-graphic)

They said you were born under the three of hearts, a spell of kind fortune, a card of good omen. "Your child will be beautiful," the diviner said when she placed you in your mother's arms. "They will love deeply, and in return, they will be loved greatly."

It was a blessed birth for the Kingdom of Hearts, whose rulers, though loved, had not been able to secure an heir for many years. Already the conception of a child was a miracle - to have you born under such an auspicious card only heightened the excitement, cast even more light on a day already filled with laughter and joy. Your parents showered you with love, and as the years passed, you grew in blissful happiness, surrounded by those who adored you. And truly, it seemed you were the three of hearts personified - for with you were two boys, Yeosang and Yeonjun, your best friends, who followed you everywhere you went.

It was inevitable, then, people whispered, that at least two of you would fall in love.

At the age of six, seven, ten, even twelve, you could ignore this. You could play the innocent card that came so easily to those born under the three of hearts, bat your eyes and cock your head and ask “What do you mean?” in reply to the questions people asked - do you have a crush? I’m sure you do. It must be on one of the boys you’re always running around with, yes? But as you grew older and the question of to whom you would extend your hand in marriage became increasingly important, your eyes began to fixate on soft blond hair and warm brown eyes, smile widening in the presence of a deep, gentle voice accompanied by the loveliest sparkle in his eyes.

The traits of a certain best friend and heir to the Kang family fortune.

He offers a courtship under the flowering wisteria tree just under your window, pale cheeks tinted with blush as he stutters his way through a short confession. Your heart warms, lifts, bursts with joy as you accept with a smiling nod, rejoicing that you have found a match who will love you as much as you love him. Three of hearts, you think giddily - I will be loved as much as I give it.

The stages of courtship seem to pass by all too slowly and at the same time, all too quickly. Caught up in a whirl of fine clothes and presents and ceremonies, you fall asleep every night eager to wake at dawn, if only to see Yeosang’s face the next day. Every moment with him seems too short, and every moment with him feels too long.

One afternoon under the wisteria tree, you complain of this. Yeosang laughs at your indignation, though when you go to hit his shoulder, he catches your fingers with soft, warm hands, before kissing your forehead gently. “It will be all right,” he murmurs, pulling away just enough for you to see the sparkle in his eyes. “We’ll have a lifetime together, after this.”

A lifetime. Born under the three of hearts, destined for a life of love and happiness, you believed it.

So much, in fact, that you forget to watch out for the second best friend at your side.

It never occurred to you to take caution with Yeonjun. He was your best friend. Even upon the announcement of your engagement, he only ever smiled and congratulated the two of you, knocking your heads together teasingly when you got too mushy for his taste. Yeosang even asked him to be one of the groomsmen when the wedding date was set.

So you never notice the way Yeonjun’s gaze always lingers on you a little too long, the way his eyes darken whenever you place a chaste kiss on Yeosang’s lips. You do notice that he spends more and more time away from you, away from Yeosang as the wedding approaches, but it’s easy to put it down to affairs of the Choi family that you simply aren’t privy to. Perhaps something has gone wrong. Yeonjun would tell you about it in due time, wouldn’t he?

On the night before your wedding, you and Yeosang dance together under a sea of sparkling stars, white engagement outfits shimmering under the night sky. The people cheer. Your parents wipe away tears. You almost cry, too, wrapped in the warmth of Yeosang’s arms around your waist, his eyes smiling into yours.

You part ways with promises of tomorrow and a lifetime hanging on your lips. When you finally fall asleep, it is to dreams of a beautiful future, complete with Yeosang by your side.

Instead, you wake up in a world where he is dead.

They say the servant who found the body went mad afterward. You don’t blame them. When you saw the body covered in its rips and stains of red, it felt like a part of your mind simply disappeared. Scrambled. Something. All you could see was the body splashed with blood, unseeing eyes wide open and glassed with the sheen of death.

And there’s no time to grieve, either, because the next day, the Choi family storms the castle with shouts of a coup and rebellion on their lips.

All you can do is stare into Yeonjun’s stony expression as he orders the execution of your parents right before your eyes.

He finds you in your rooms a week later, a beautiful prison of silk and satin that they took away so you wouldn’t hang yourself before he came. His eyes soften upon seeing you, but when he reaches out a hand, you slap it away.

Only one word leaves your lips. “Why?”

Love, he says. Love for you. Love that burned fierce, hot, so unlike the soft warmth of Yeosang’s hand, love that burned so bright it couldn’t stand to fall second to the gentleness of Yeosang’s smile. His heart burned for you, beat for you, enough to plan all of this, enough to ask, even now -

“Will you marry me?”

The wisteria tree outside your window is in full bloom under a bright, cloudless sky. A mockery of the day Yeosang asked for your hand and you gave him your heart.

In the absence of blades and bullets, no one should underestimate the power that fingernails can do to raw skin and bone.

“You worthless, worthless human being,” you snarl, even as guards drag you back from Yeonjun’s bleeding face. “Worthless - worthless - I will never marry you -”

“You will,” Yeonjun snarls back, now a safe distance away from the blood caking your nails. “You will or you will die.”

You don’t die. You almost do, jamming the lock on your door and smashing the fortified window with a superhuman strength you believe Yeosang and your parents have lent you for one night, just one night before leaping into the branches of the wisteria tree, crashing to the ground in a heap of branches and flowers and glass. They nearly catch you - an arrow pierces your shoulder and another streaks so close it almost cuts off your ear - but you escape. And hide. For days, weeks, months...

Until you return with a sword and murder in your eyes, slashing through every guard on your way into the castle until you come across Yeonjun sitting upon your father’s throne, the crown of your family on his head.

“Would you?” he whispers, the tip of your sword positioned over his heart. “Would you, truly?”

A blank smile curves your lips. “Of course,” you whisper. “Just the same way you would.”

They crown you queen with triumph in their eyes, songs of a royal who avenger their lover’s death when a jealous suitor got in the way. You listen to it with stony eyes and teeth gritted behind your lips, especially when they speak of the three of hearts, blessed above all, destined for a life of love -

There is no love left in your heart that wasn’t taken away with the death of Yeosang and your family.

You execute the Chois. You execute their allies. You root through the kingdom, imprisoning those with even a semblance of a relationship to the man who killed your love, who took the blessing of your card away. The songs die away, replaced by whispers of a queen gone mad with the loss of their love. Triumphant shouts of a blessed three of hearts turn into murmurs of a curse, a new meaning to your card - perhaps not one destined for love, but one whose life will end in tragedy. Pain. Suffering.

They are wrong. Your life was full of love, love that you gave on your own and love that was given by those around you. It was the cause of your happiness and the reason for your suffering - love killed Yeosang and your family, just as it killed the last bit of humanity in you.

The words of the diviner mock your grief.

“Your child will be beautiful.”

Not as beautiful as he ever was.

“They will love deeply.”

Where did that get you?

“And in return, they will be loved greatly.”

Where did that get him?

No longer do they speak of the three of hearts as a blessing, as a sign of blissful omen. Instead, they speak of it as a curse, a curse of love, a curse of madness, a curse of tragedy to follow at every bend.

Good. They’re right.

The love that the heavens wrought never brought anything more than pain, anyway.

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elenamiria · 3 years

Text

New in Town

Cobb Vanth x Reader

Summary: You, a new resident in Mos Pelgo, gets to know the Marshal over a drink and it turns into something more.

Word Count: 2.8k Warnings: Slight hurt/comfort, smut, fem reader, slight authority kink, pet names, unprotected sex, p in v sex, creampie

Masterlist & Tags (Tagging my normal peeps, no pressure to read if you’re not into Cobb!): @anakinswhore @a-dorin @fishswimbetterunderwater @blxwjobsforclones @lynnie51 @katrynec @mistermiraclee

“Well hello there Marshal.” You drawled, standing up straight from where you had been lounging against the bar. The man who was confidently striding into the cantina faltered at your voice and his eyes darted around the empty bar. You shot him a friendly smile, putting down the glass you had been cleaning and holding a hand out to invite him towards you. He shot you a wary glance before his face cracked into a charming lopsided smile, “Do I know you?”

You laughed and shook your head, “Nah I doubt you do, I’m your newest resident.”

At this the Marshal’s posture relaxed slightly as he took several long strides over to you, your eyes taking in his appearance before tossing your towel over your shoulder and laying your hands on the counter. You were about to ask what you could get him but he beat you to the punch.

“I’ll take a snort of spotchka, and does the new resident have a name?”

You nodded at him and properly introduced yourself as you fetched his drink, pouring the bright blue liquid easily. The marshal took it from you gratefully, taking a deep drink before sighing wearily. His smile covered his face again as he spoke, “Cobb Vanth, I’m the Marshal around here but you seem to know that already.”

“Right. That must’ve seemed strange. The Weequay mentioned that you’d probably be in, that you’re here most days anymore. Didn’t elaborate on what that meant but he gave me your description.” You ended with an awkward smile, your new boss had seemed almost rueful at the Marshal’s habits. Your suspicions that this was a newer behavior, one not in character for the man that you had only just met were confirmed when Cobb shifted in his seat, pointedly avoiding eye contact, and his fingers curled tightly around his drink. You allowed your gaze to linger on the silver haired man and eventually your eyes locked as his gaze darted back to your face before nervously scampering away like a scared Scurrier. A long sigh slid from his mouth in such a familiar fashion that you knew something as heavy as the baggage you brought with you must be weighing on his mind. Your head tilted in intrigue and just as you were about to admit defeat his deep brown eyes slid to meet yours. There was a weariness there as he finally spoke, “The village, they treat me differently since I gave up my armor.”

When he trailed off a slight frown covered your face, his gaze had once again slid from your face during his short sentence but it flitted back to you once more. He was searching for something but you couldn't be sure what, you had a fairly good guess though - validation. Having come from the Cantina at Mos Eisley you had seen your fair share of men who came to drink their fears away and you had gotten good at reading people, not that the skill had helped when you truly needed it but it served you well enough for your occupation. With your guess in mind you smiled at Cobb sweetly, “Really? You could’ve fooled me, strolling in here so confident you could have convinced me you own the place if I hadn’t met my boss yesterday.”

He laughed at this, a light sound that brought a wide grin to your face - a sound that if you weren't careful you could find yourself craving, "Really? Maybe I don't know my own power."

Cobb said this lightly, as a joke, but your smile softened and the words flew from your mouth before you could stop them, "Maybe you don't."

His eyes locked with yours and you felt heat rising in your cheeks as something changed in his gaze, he sat up a little taller as you broke the connection between the two of you. Your gaze darted to the ground before you cleared your throat and just as you were about to leave the Marshal in peace he spoke again.

"I'm afraid they don't think I'll be able to protect them without the armor. But I'm still me and I'd still lay down my life for these people, they're my family. It's just....it's not easy knowing that they don't see me the same as before." His words were steady and strong now as if he had been holding this back for some time and you sure he had, no one to talk to but the very people unknowingly causing his distress. At his words you let a gentle smirk cover your face as you leaned lazily on the bar separating the two of you, something in the air had shifted a palpable tension having appeared, you could tell he'd hit his stride and you were more than willing to take a leap to see where this could take you. With that in mind you spoke, “Well I’d trust you to protect me just like that, no armor needed, if that means anything Marshal.”

Your teeth sank into your lower lip and it was only then that you realized just how far over the bar you were leaning, your elbows planted firmly. You didn’t miss the way Cobb’s dark brown eyes focused on your lips for just a split second, settling on your mischievous gaze as he breathed out, “Is that so, darlin’?”

You wanted to kiss him though your brain chided your impulsiveness but when his eyes were once again drawn to your lips you banished any hesitation. Lithe fingers grasped Cobb’s bandanna and tugged, bringing his mouth crashing into yours. In an instant the Marshal was out of his seat, leaning into you as his mouth worked against yours furiously and you knew he must have felt the same spark that you did. Embers lighting deep within you had your lips eagerly parting for his tongue to roam your mouth while his hands cupped your face so he could deepen the already intense kiss. Your hands came to grab at his arms, nails digging into the red fabric of his shirt as he left you breathless. When the two of you parted you panted as you tried to convince yourself that the spontaneous kiss had actually just happened and Cobb leaned back just a fraction as a coy smile covered his face. Roles reversed now as your eyes darted to his lips, your breath hitched as you backed away scrambling towards the door. Cobb's eyes widened in bewilderment and you nearly laughed as you turned back to see him, "Close the door if you will."

At your order his eyes lit up as he moved as quickly as you did to the entrance of the bar in order to close the near permanently open door to the cantina while you locked the worker entrance. By the time he had turned back towards you you had climbed onto the counter in order to move towards him. Once you were near the edge of the counter you allowed your legs to dangle over the side, as Cobb reached you again he firmly grasped your knees and tugged you forwards, slotting your hips together. It was seconds before your mouths were melding together again and your arms flung around his shoulders to pull him as close as possible. He must have been feeling as desperate as you were, his hands grabbed your hips to press your curves into him. A whimper slid from your mouth as your clothed cunt pressed against something decidedly hard. You gave a tentative roll of your hips and as Cobb pulled apart to moan your name softly you knew exactly what was pressing into you.

A throaty giggle left you as you teased, "Now Marshal is that a blaster or are you just that happy to see me."

He groaned at your cheesy line before growling out a 'c'mere' and one hand cupping your cheek to pull you into another fiery kiss. His bead scratched at your face in a way that had your fingers digging into his shoulders. Your hips rolled against his again and you were rewarded with another moan. Nipping at his bottom lip your fingers slid up to bury in the short hairs at the back of his head tugging lightly. Cobb broke apart from you once again as he shook his head a smirk on his face, "Darlin' if you keep teasing me like that I'm not gonna be able to hold back."

Your eyelashes fluttered as you smiled, "Well Marshal, I did have you close that door for a reason."

His breath hitched at both you calling him by his title and your admission but as you headed in for another kiss he pulled back slightly, "I need to hear you say it darlin', do you want me to fuck you?"

Your lips parted at his words and you nodded, "Yes. Cobb I want you to fuck me, please."

A positively devious smirk covered his face as he grasped your chin lightly, "That's Marshal to you sweetheart."

Your moan was wild and uncontained at Cobb's dominant words and as he captured your lips once more his hands were working at your pants. As he undid your belt and tugged down the zipper you lifted your hips enough that he could pull the pants and underwear off your legs. His bare fingers met your slick pussy, slipping into your folds easily. Pulling back Cobb groaned, "All this just for me darlin'?"

You gasped as a finger sunk into your drenched cunt and started pumping slowly, "It's all for you Marshal, just for you."

Head flying back as another finger sunk into your folds you keened as his pace sped up burying his fingers deep within you, stretching and teasing while your hips bucked. You leaned back, arms supporting you, as your legs spread for him granting easier access to where you so desperately craved contact. Your wetness gleamed in the light of the cantina and a deep growl left Cobb's chest as he hissed out, "You look absolutely delicious sweetheart and I promise you I'll taste you sometime soon but right now darlin'? Right now, I need to be inside this tight little cunt."

When his fingers pulled from your depths you whined in disappointment but as his fingers fumbled and tore at his clothing in order to pull his aching cock out your whine morohed into an eager moan. One of his hands landed on your hip again, steadying you against the counter, as his other hand guided his dick slowly through your folds. You cried out as his tip prodded at your clit while your cunt soaked him in your fluids and your walls fluttered when he lined himself up at your entrance. Biting your lip your gaze slid up to meet his brown eyes, shining with want and need, "Are you ready for me?"

His tone was gentle and sweet, something that had your walls fluttering as you nodded to him simpering out, "Yes, Marshal."

Slowly he pushed his hips forward, spearing you onto his length and sliding into your depths. A whimper flew from your throat as your walls clenched around him despite such little stimulation, the feeling of him filling you completely had you struck dumb at just how deep his cock reached. As he settled, hips pressed together, his hand slid up your body to stroke your face softly and he waited for your indication that he could move. When it became too much to bear you nodded at him whispering out a soft plea for him to move, to fuck you. He obliged and his pace started slow, his cock dragging in and out against your walls. Your eyelids drooped as you watched his hips and cock slide back and forth, coming out a little wetter each time. Breathing hitching you gasped out, "More, please I need more Marshal!"

Cobb's hands grasped your waist as his hips sped up, a slapping noise filling the air on each thrust, his cock pressing deeper and deeper into you. Your mouth fell open as he hit something inside of you that had you moaning, a pleased grunt left his throat at your pleasure and he endeavored to hit that same little spot over and over again. You swore as your head fell back unable to deal with the combination of watching his length disappear into you and the bliss you were feeling. Cobb sped up as he hissed out, "Fuck darlin' I'm not gonna last very long in this perfect pussy."

A hand left your hip as his fingers sought out your clit and once he did he was rubbing and circling it like he had known your body for years, finding the perfect patterns that had your legs tensing as your orgasm approached. You whimpered out his name as your walls clenched around him and he nodded, pressing even deeper in you to lean over your body to reach your lips.

Mouths collided in a swirl of tongues and teeth as you desperately chased your release, he pulled away from you to nip and bite at your neck. As he hit your sweet spot a particularly deep thrust swept you over the edge, his teeth clamping down on your neck as your walls tightened around his length. You practically screamed out his name as you came, pleasure from all the different stimuli - his cock, his fingers, his mouth - overwhelmed your senses and you drowned in him. You whined as your whole body tensed, Cobb's cock still pumping into your steadily as he worked you through your orgasm, pussy clenching and clinging to him. For a brief moment your vision went white as his fingers continued to swirl around your clit, when you gasped out his name he lightened the pressure eventually pulling his fingers away completely. Gasping and panting as you came down you became vaguely aware of his other hand stroking your cheek softly and a voice cooing, "That's it sweet girl, so good for me."

Trembling you leaned your head into his hand and shot him a sweet smile. Cobb's pace sped up again as you recovered, chasing his own release. You were sure you looked a mess but the Marshal stared down at you like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, lips parted and eyes hazy from your height of pleasure. It wasn't long before Cobb was grunting and panting out, "Where do you want me to cum sweetheart?"

Your cunt clenched at his words and a soft whimper flew from your lips, "Fuck, inside, I'm safe. Please fill me up Marshal, I wanna feel you inside me for the rest of the day."

That pushed Cobb over the edge as he whined out your name, hips stuttering. His cum painted your walls, doing as you asked and filling you up. You sat up straighter as he slowly pumped into you, steadying yourself with one hand and the other hand grasping the back of his neck. Pulling him into a sensual kiss you rolled your hips lightly helping him ride out his orgasm like he helped you. When you finally let your hips settle you broke apart, keeping your forehead lightly pressed to his.

Cobb laughed lightly as you both sat there for a moment recovering, after a second he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away. You whimpered slightly at the loss before sliding off the counter to re-dress yourself while he did the same. Unable to help yourself you teasingly spoke once again, "So is that how you greet all your new residents Marshal or am I just lucky?"

Another delightful laugh met your ears as Cobb smiled at you before resting his hands on your now clothed hips, "Oh no sweet girl, just you. Only you."

His words sent a thrilled hum through you a grin covered your face, though moments later when the Marshal took off his bandanna you shot him a confused look.

"I left uhm quite a mark on your neck so I think you might need this more than I do right now darlin'." He rumbled as he tied it around your neck and positioning it to cover the hickey on your throat. He cleared his throat after a moment of you two staring at each other, "I hate to leave but I do have a job to be getting to and I believe you are actively working right now."

Your heart sank slightly at his words and as he awkwardly turned to head towards the door you panicked slightly. The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could think anything of them, "I'm off in a few hours and you'll need your bandanna back so maybe you could come by? We could get a drink together?"

Cobb froze and turned back towards you, the slight fear that had been gripping you was completely dissipated by his grin, "Like a date?"

Floundering at his words slightly you stuttered out a few sentence starters ("Well- I- Uhm-") before he spoke again, his words sending your heart soaring, “You got it, darlin’. It's a date. ”

#star wars fanfiction #star wars smut #reader insert smut #cobb vanth #cobb vanth x reader #cobb vanth x you #cobb vanth x y/n #cobb vanth smut #timothy olyphant #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian fanfiction

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peachtree-dish · 3 years

Text

Chapter 5: Acqua agitata

13 ottobre 1969

There were many things that Luca loved in Signora Mia’s casa, besides the woman herself. He had been fascinated for his first few weeks in Genoa exploring all her books, odds and ends, and souvenirs. When she had first separated from Massimo, Mia had traveled all over Europe spending time in Greece, France, and Whales. From each country, she’d brought home at least one object or decoration, each one holding a special story and memory. Being an artist meant that she had many paintings, most of which were created by her hand, and every wall had been hand-painted by her design. On one wall, in particular, she had painted a colorful homage to the coast of Porto Rosso, featuring Massimo’s house and a detailed view of the town square. This was Luca’s particular favorite, and often while both Mia and Giulia were sleeping at night, he’d sit in front of that mural and read, letting the bright colors wash away his homesickness.

While she was never to be seen without a paintbrush in hand, Mia was also meticulous about keeping her furniture and floors paint-free, any splotches or spills were lovingly restricted to her paint room. Said room opened as both Luca and Giulia walked down the hallway, shredding backpacks, and school jackets as they went.

“Already home, miei cari? The day went by fast!” Mia briskly wiped her paintbrush down and stuck it in the front pocket of her jumper. “Hey, you ragazzi know better than to leave your stuff in the hallway!” She danced around the dropped articles of clothing and made her way into the kitchen space, watching in amusement as both teens sheepishly put the cookie jar back on the counter, a large Amaretti stuffed in their mouths.

“Scusa,” they both mumbled. Luca was the first to return to the disorganized hallway, pressing a crumb-filled kiss to Mia’s cheek in greeting before running to take his things to his bedroom. Nerone yapped playfully at his feet, eagerly hoping for any sweet leftovers as the teen dashed into his room and threw his coat and book bag on the chair by the window. Unlike Giulia’s room in Porto Rosso, there was no direct view of the ocean, however, on clear days he could make out the familiar blue outline above the orange rooftops of Genoa. Today the skies promised rain and Luca briefly wondered if the storm had already hit Alberto and Massimo.

As he pulled the necessary work from his bag, a blue paper slipped out and fell gracefully to the floor. Picking it up, Luca was reminded of his gym teacher’s earlier announcement. The thought made him wince as he re-read the glaring title: Maturazione e salute sessuale. Luca had hoped that he had escaped such discussion from his family during the summer; apparently, he would not be so lucky at school. Deciding to leave the permission slip for later, he grabbed his schoolwork and left the paper on his bed. Luca and Nerone made their way back into the kitchen where Giulia was already sat and speaking animatedly to her mother.

“Signora Bianchi explained energy to us today in earth sciences and said that it can’t be destroyed, only transferred,” Mia nodded as she pulled out a large circular pan before lighting the oven. If his intuition was right, and it usually was when it came to food, that meant pizza.

“And in math, we’ve been adding l’alfabeto in our equations; I wish they wouldn’t do that, it makes everything more complicated,” Giulia groused, pulling out her own math assignments.

“It’s easy if you think about it as balancing the equation,” Luca suggested, unsurprised when Giulia responded by glaring at him across the table.

“But the equation doesn’t look unbalanced to me. Besides,” she rolled her eyes, “why do we care what x is? Maybe x doesn’t want to be found.” Luca snorted and returned to his writing assignment, absentmindedly scratching Nerone’s head as he thought.

“Ah, bambini, not to worry, in three short years you won’t have to worry so much, although,” Mia mused, pressing the dough onto the counter, “if you both study some form of science, I’m afraid math is a must.” She pressed a kiss to Giulia’s forehead when she groaned, laughing with mirth.

“Also, don’t forget that tomorrow is mail day, any letters you have, need to be ready to send and on the table before you go to school, si?”

“Grazie, Signora Mia,” Luca thanked, now thoroughly distracted from his assignment, and wondering how he was going to fit this week’s events into Alberto’s letter.

“How’s your painting, mama?” Giulia asked a few moments later, obviously avoiding the equations that remained blank on her page.

“Benissimo, amore mio, I think my customer will really like it, they wanted something unique, and I doubt they’ll be disappointed!” Signora Mia flipped her wooden spoon in hand and gently nudged her daughter’s shoulder with the handle. “However, I think your professore will indeed be disappointed if you turn in a blank assignment.” Well and truly defeated, Giulia glumly returned to her homework, her expression forlorn.

After trudging through homework and eating a delicious Margherita pizza, the small family of three gathered into the sitting room and played a few rounds of Scopa, Signora Mia’s favorite.

“Aha!” the artist crowed, slapping her cards down in victory, “I win, again!” Luca groaned in defeat, placing his cards next to Giulia’s he sat back and popped his neck. Giulia had resigned herself to fate long ago and simply accepted her loss with a sigh.

“I still think you have a secret strategy that you haven’t shown me yet, mama.” She grumbled good-naturedly. Her mother shrugged smugly as she cleaned up the cards.

“Or the divine simply has favorites,” Stretching her arms, Mia stood to diffuse the fire. “You both have everything you need for tomorrow, vero?” Giulia nodded while Luca paused.

“Actually, Signora, there’s a paper I need you to sign,” He tapered off, fingers twitching nervously. The woman stared blankly at him, waiting for him to continue.

“Ah, it’s part of my health class, I’ll go fetch it for you.” Ears burning, Luca quickly returned with the offending paper and placed it face down in Mia’s waiting hand. As her eyes alighted upon the title, sudden understanding filled her expression and she smiled sympathetically at the embarrassed teen. Giulia peered over her mother’s shoulder and frowned in confusion.

“How come I didn’t get one?”

“Your puberty course happened two years ago, tesoro, this is a continuation for everyone a few years older.” Mia patted Giulia’s face, which contorted into horror at the memory, “I imagine your sex education will start next year.” She mused, her eyes crinkling with unhidden amusement.

“No, grazie, that presentation was enough to last a lifetime, I don’t need to know more.” The small redhead made a face of disgust as she fled the room. “Good luck, Lu!” She called before closing her bedroom door with finality.

Luca and Signora Mia sat for a moment staring at each other, Luca growing redder with each passing second and Mia showing no inclination of saving him from embarrassment.

“So…” perhaps if he prayed hard enough, the ground would swallow him whole. Nerone snored unhelpfully at the side of his chair.

“So, cosa?” She was merciless. Luca’s head began to inch farther between his shoulders.

“Will you sign the slip for me?” he mumbled, eyes nailed to the colorful rug below him.

Mia broke the tension with a laugh, which startled Luca enough to look at her beaming expression.

“Well, the question is if you really want me to,” she motioned to the paper, “if we’re being honest, caro, they won’t teach you much. If you’d prefer, I can answer your questions along with Giulia, or you may go to the presentation with your classmates. The choice is yours, really.” She handed the slip back to him, and he bit his lip in thought as he scanned the dreadful title over with his eyes.

“I think I want to do a bit of both, but” he pressed his teeth harder into his bottom lip nervously, “I’d rather ask questions without Giulia if that’s all right?” Mia smiled warmly at him before nodding her consent.

“Molto bene, what would like to know? I’m not sure if things will be different for you because of your biology, but perhaps some things will cross over.” She sat back in thought and waited patiently for Luca to form his thoughts into words.

“Why don’t we start with what you know, hm?” She pressed gently. Ok, that shouldn’t be too hard, right? Luca felt his stomach drop as he thought.

“W-well, I know that eggs are formed from two mates and that males and females are physically different. That’s…that’s all I know I think.” His nerves started to fade as he thought about what information he had, his logical side pushing his emotions out of the way. “Oh, and I know that girls have their cycles every month to prepare their bodies for new eggs.” He had learned that particular lesson last year when Giulia’s cycle started for the first time. Luca remembered vividly how she had been in pain for nearly a week and often had to wash her clothes and sheets when the bleeding became too heavy. Giulia had learned over the year how to manage it better and be prepared, but Luca did not envy her one bit.

“Do female sea people experience cycles?” Mia interrupted. Luca screwed his face in thought; he couldn’t remember his mother or grandmother mentioning anything.

“I’m not sure, I think there has to be something similar, but I don’t think they have blood cycles.”

Mia hummed in thought. “Is that all you know?” She continued when Luca nodded.

“Well, that’s a good place to start. Maybe let’s talk about the basics, okay?”

They spoke for longer than expected and Luca surprised himself with how many questions he had the more Signora Mia explained.

By the time the first hand on the clock reached one, Luca’s eyelids had begun to grow unbearably heavy, and the fire had become a gentle glow of embers.

“Bene, I think it’s time we both head to bed, no?” Luca nodded his head gratefully. As he bid the older woman goodnight, he stopped short at his door and turned back to Giulia’s mother with renewed trepidation.

“Signora, one more thing?” The artist paused in turn, her bleary eyes focusing on the youth.

“Is it possible for two people of the same…well, the same gender to experience that kind of relationship?” His heart pounded as he waited for her response, and he felt as if his lungs had stopped working properly. The Signora’s eyes immediately sharpened into focus, her gaze appeared to see right through him, and Luca began to fear that she could read his mind.

Then, as if satisfied with what she found, the older woman’s gaze softened, and she smiled again. “Any form of love is a gift, Luca. And while some people may not accept such relations, it is not uncommon for men to find happiness with other men, nor for women to do so with other women. And” she smiled ruefully, “some prefer to not have any relations, sexual or romantic.”

Luca eased his grip on the doorframe and offered his thanks before he hurriedly closed the door. He pressed his back against the white wood, its coolness seeping through his shirt and into his flushed skin. He couldn’t quite admit why that specific question had tumbled out of his mouth, but throughout their conversation images of Alberto and him together had entered his mind and now refused to leave.

Groaning dejectedly into his hands, the brunette threw himself onto the bed and buried himself beneath the covers, begging his mind to stop.

22 Octubre 1969

Walking the hallways alongside Giulia often helped Luca feel grounded where he would otherwise feel distant and out of place. While those of his class were aware of his true form, other grades did not, and he preferred it that way. However, whether they knew or not, Luca often felt like the proverbial ‘fish out of water’, full pun intended. It wasn’t that anyone made him feel different or were unwelcoming, quite the contrary, but Luca couldn’t help but feel isolated at times. With Giulia being a grade younger, their only time shared was before school, during lunch break, and their time at home. The one person he did consider to be a friend and true ally, was Donte Castello, who was quite happy to accompany both him and Giulia in between classes. “Vero, but what was the point of tricking their families if they weren’t going to at least communicate the plan to each other? They could have easily lived and avoided the whole fiasco.” Dante pinched two thick fingers together in exasperation, his expression one of exaggerated disappointment.

“They had to be convincing! I’m not saying it was smart, but you have to admit that teenagers aren’t the best people to trust with secrets.” Giulia rolled her eyes as if this were the most obvious fact in the world. Dante dramatically slapped his hand across his forehead, pretending to faint.

“Are you calling me untrustworthy, Marcovaldo? I feel wounded,” He draped himself pathetically across Luca who stumbled, caught off guard by the sudden weight.

“Are you listening, Paguro? Will you not defend your favorite classmate?” Giulia snorted while Luca chuckled. He patted Dante’s back consolingly.

“I’m sure, you’ll make a quick recovery, Castello.” The taller boy pouted before returning to his upright position.

“Bene, now I know to not come to you when I need anything,” Dante grumbled. His pouting was cut short when a mass of black curls and dark skin ran right into his side. Being nearly the height of Massimo and on his way to being of the same build, Dante hardly budged from his spot. The torpedo that was unsuccessful in sinking his ship, however, had landed on the floor in a dazed heap.

Luca had never seen such curly hair in his life, which was saying something when one considered he knew both Alberto and Giulia. The girl blinked owlishly at the trio before her, her face panicked. She couldn’t have been much older than Giulia, with skin the color of rich coffee and eyes that shined like honey.

“Mi dispiace,” she squeaked, jumping to her feet, and flattening her clothes before ducking into a doorway next to them.

From down the hallway, students were ducking out of the way as a group of students made their way angrily through the corridors. Choruses of laughter followed them, and it soon became clear as to why. Two girls were drenched with water, their makeup creating colorful rivers down their cheeks and splotches on their shirts. The three boys next to them looked as if they had lost a fight with the school trash cans, their scowls just as terrifying as the smell. Luca and Giulia instantly stepped in front of the doorway, further shielding the mystery girl from sight. Once they passed, Dante turned around to face the quivering youth, his arms crossed.

“I don’t suppose that mess had anything to do with you, eh ragazza?” The girl winced when three pairs of eyes focused on her, and she shrank even more.

“They were trying to hurt me,” she mumbled.

“What would a bunch of upperclassmen want with you?” Dante narrowed his eyes disbelievingly. The young girl jutted her chin out defiantly and glared back. “Let’s just say I’m different and they didn’t like that. Are you going to be just like them?”

Luca raised his hands and placed himself between them, not wanting to start any more drama before lunch. “E abbastanza, ragazzi. No, we’re not like them,” he stared pointedly at Dante, who eventually relaxed and shrugged his shoulders in surrender. “I’m Luca Paguro, these are my friends, Giulia Marcovaldo and Dante Castello.” The teen offered his hand, and the girl reluctantly shook it, her expression of distrust clear.

“Luisa Corallina, piacere.”

“You’re new aren’t you? I thought I saw you in the first period.” Giulia asked, her head tilted in contemplation. Luisa nodded reluctantly, her gaze uneasy.

“I… my family just moved here from Sicily this week.”

“Woah, that’s a long way, it must’ve taken you forever to drive that far.”

Luisa merely lifted her shoulder in response, her anxiety only increasing. Luca nudged her empathetically, he knew what it was like to prefer privacy.

“Well, you’re welcome to hang with us-”

“There you are you little puttana!” A furious voice interrupted the group, and Luisa turned pale when she heard the screech.

The group of soaked and smelly teens had returned, their expressions were mutinous. The girl with shoulder-length blonde hair whipped her hand out, pushing Luca aside in the process, and snatched Luisa by the arm. Her soaked touch instantly turned Luca’s arm blue with scales, much to his chagrin.

“I’m going to make you pay for your little magic show stunt, witch.” Luisa bared her teeth, which suddenly appeared to be sharper. Before Luca could step in, Dante was already using his large stature to separate the two girls from one another.

“Calmati, Aurora. I’d hate to see this get ugly.” Dante stared down the furious teen, who scowled in return.

“Stay out of this, Castello,” One of the older boys spoke. He isn’t quite as big as Dante, but he stood at least a foot taller. “This little urchin needs to be taught a lesson.” He leaned over imposingly. Dante rolled his eyes and merely scoffed.

“If a puny freshman can cause that much damage to a bunch of upperclassmen, I think it’s you five who need a lesson. Get on your way before I tell my mother about this, I’m sure she’d be happy to discuss this and your future program applications in her office.” He raised an eyebrow at the unsettled group, his stance unmoving. They were saved by a response when the bell rang, signaling the start of classes. Auror stomped her foot angrily before pointing a finger at Dante.

“You keep that witch away from us. If I catch her alone, it’s over.” She sliced a finger across her neck menacingly before being pulled away by her shorter friend. When they finally disappeared for good, the group heaved a collective sigh of relief.

“I wonder if she’s related to Ercole. I had no idea there’d be two empires of evil to destroy.” Giulia mused.

“What is it with girls being so dramatic,” Dante asked, looking rather bewildered. Giulia slapped his arm indignantly with a shout of “hey!”.

“That just proves my point!”

Ignoring the bickering behind him, Luca turned back to Luisa, intent on checking she was okay, only to find her staring blankly at his arm. To his horror, his arm was still damp, and his scales glistened under the damp white fabric of his arm.

“I-it’s just a birthmark!” He squeaked, instantly wishing he could slap himself. What kind of sane person would believe that?! “You’re just like me,” Luisa whispered, her golden eyes turned hopeful.

“What?” Luisa pushed her own arm towards him, pink scales formed perfectly beneath a handprint.

“Mostro marino,” Luisa breathed.

“Ah, merda, here we go again.” Dante groaned.

#a te che sei il mio grande amore #my fic #luberto #luca and alberto #luca x alberto #alberto x luca #alberto scorfano #luca paguro #luca fanfiction #ocs #coming of age #mutual pining #idiots in love #queer romance #queer fanfiction #queer writers

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knchins · 3 years

Text

Symbiosis - Benimaru & Joker

Summary: Benimaru, Joker, and a former Sister learn how to work through their frustrations with their investigation into the Holy Sol Temple through the one thing they know best: sex.

Pairing: Benimaru Shinmon x Fem!Reader x Joker

Rating: E

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: pwp (I didn't even try this time lmao), spanking, vaginal sex, oral sex, dirty talk/degradation, some dob/sub themes, hair pulling, face fucking. I do not count this as dp but some people might. SPIT ROASTING.

Notes: So I wrote this for @tamcitrus and I hope she likes it! It’s like my most self indulgent piece to date probably lol. Idk how I managed to write this while being barely able to breathe but when the inspo strikes what can you do....First FF/ENS piece! I think they may be a bit OOC but...whatever I’m too sick to care.,

“So will you join me, Sister?” The mysterious man asked as he puffed on a cigarette. You stared off at the nighttime skyline, at the temple in the very far eastern horizon. Was this something you really wanted to do? It would be dangerous, but you could sense the power coming from him. Not only that, he had already enlisted the help of the Captain of the 7th, Benimaru Shinmon. It wasn’t as if you’d be taking on the church all by yourself.

Your mind drifted as the King of Destruction peppered kisses down your bare throat. The mission with Joker hadn’t been entirely successful. In the end they were met with Captain Burns who handed you a journal that belonged to the wife of Raffles I. While it was true you did come up with some new theories about the White Clad, ultimately it felt like a dead end. Now you just had more questions than answers and it was incredibly frustrating.

But you weren’t the only one frustrated. Your two new comrades had been too. Eventually you had found a way to relieve the tension that had built up over so many years of bullshit. Having been an orphan and raised as a Sister for the Holy Sol Temple, you had plenty of ill will harbored against the empire. You had long abandoned your title but that didn’t stop the two men from egging you on by calling you by it.

Currently the former assassin was watching through a half-lidded eye as you sat in Benimaru’s lap, your back to his chest as he kissed along your neck and cupped both breasts in his hands. You were already stripped down to your underwear, both men clad in only pants and briefs. Joker tended to observe first before joining in, enjoying taking his time watching the view of Beni turn you on and work you over. Small trails of smoke rose from the lit white stick of tobacco that hung from his mouth.

“You look so pretty like that, Sister.” He drawled, inhaling another wave of smoke that filtered out of his nose. “You like when he plays with your tits don’t you?”

“Don’t call me that,” You protested weakly in a voice that came out as more of a moan than a grumble as Beni began to tweak your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. You began to wiggle in his lap, ass brushing against his stiffening cock in a way that had him biting down on your shoulder possessively.

The cotton panties you had been wearing were soaked all the way through between your legs. This stupid little routine always had you mewling and crying before anyone even bothered touching your needy cunt. Beni enjoyed torturing you too much and Joker enjoyed watching him do it. You had known in the beginning being the only woman in the trio would put you at a disadvantage. You just didn’t know how much.

“Waka, please.” You gasped as he bit down on your throat this time, sucking a bruise into the skin there. One of your hands moved to try and touch your clit for some form of relief, but he warned you by warming up his hands rapidly. It wasn’t enough to burn you but it was enough to let you know that he would if you didn’t play by his rules. “Asshole.” You hissed, pulling your hand back up to a safe distance. You reached behind him and grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging it angrily.

Beni quickly pushed you onto the tatami mat on the floor roughly, holding the back of your head in one hand, pressing your face against the material as he lifted your hips up with the other. He began to grind his erection against the wet fabric of your underwear, seething as he ripped down your underwear so that you were completely bare for the both of them.

He took no time in slapping your ass in retaliation for pulling on his hair. “Impatient little slut.” He growled, causing you to clench with desire. The way his deep voice reverberated in the small room made you even wetter.

Joker was laughing lightly at the scene. It was pretty typical for you to piss Beni off. And the cute little squeaks you let out as the captain spanked you was just even more delectable than your moans. He finally stood, dropping his pants and underwear at the same time as he knelt before you. Beni took his hand off the back of your head so you could lift up enough for Joker to grab you by the hair and pull you up onto your hands.

He always had an affinity for fucking your warm wet mouth. Something about choking you on his dick felt better than either your pussy or ass. It was definitely his preferred hole, not that Benimaru minded. It was easier to punish you if he had total control of your lower half. You could hear Beni remove himself from the rest of his clothing as well.

At the feeling of his blushed head pressing into your folds, you began to protest. “Beni, you have to-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence as Fifty-Two plunged his dick into your open mouth.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Sister,” Benimaru spat out. “Only good girls get warm ups.” Then he pushed his impressively large cock into your small hole, filling you up and stretching you out with a familiar but still painful burn.

Your cries were garbled by the dick in your mouth. Joker was still, watching the different emotions cross your face: panic, surprise, pain, pleasure. The last one had your jaw slackening for him drool rolling off your lower lip as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. Despite the initial discomfort, there was no greater pleasure in this life than the Captain’s cock being buried balls deep into your soaking pussy.

“This is what you wanted, right little slut?” Beni asked, smacking you one last time as he slowly pulled out and rammed back in, forcing you to lurch forward and deep throat the man in front of you.

You gagged, making Joker laugh at your expense. “I’m pretty sure that’s what she wanted.” He said, given your hair a gentle pull. You struggled to breathe, tears rolling from the corners of your eyes reflexively. You tried to back away from him to give yourself some sort of relief, walls clamping down tight on Benimaru behind you. He let out a small groan at the sensation, though he didn’t budge as you tried to push back on him.

“If only the Sisters that raised you could see you now. Choking on the dick of Holy Sol Temple’s number one enemy. I bet you’d get off that too, wouldn’t you, Sister?” Joker asked as he pulled his hips back enough to allow you to breathe. You shot him a pitiful glare at the taunt, grabbing his bare thigh and digging your nails into it angrily. They always loved to tease you when you were in no position to defend yourself. It could be so annoying.

The pain of your nails tearing at his skin was about on the same level as an insect bite. It was really insignificant to him, and therefore it didn’t cause him to correct his actions. He simply tightened his grip on your hair.

Beni started to move in and out of you at a quick and relentless place. Though he had been kind enough to let you adjust to his size, he wasn’t a total monster. He only started doing with his regular rhythm when he started to feel you relax around him. The muffled moans spilled from your mouth as your eyes rolled back. Any time he fucked you from behind he was always able to hit that sweet stop with his cockhead, the one that had you weak in the legs and gripping him dear life.

Both men highly enjoyed the sounds of you sputtering and crying for more, your words a garbled mess due to Joker’s length plowing into you at a matching speed. The first few times you three had indulged in one another, the rhythms were out of sync and almost awkward. But now, they had the routine down pat. They knew how the other one worked and could easily find the best way to compliment the other’s thrusts. This had Beni pushing in while Joker was pulling out and you stayed as still as you possibly could so that you wouldn’t impale yourself on either of them in a painful manner.

It felt like the pinnacle of symbiosis. Everyone works together for their own gain but not at the expense of the other. In the end no one would be left out or at a loss. You’d have to remember to thank Joker later for gathering the three of you together.

Beni let out a curse as he increased his pace, using one hand to push locks of sweaty hair from his eyes. Sometimes he was convinced that your body had been made for him. He fit inside of you like a hand in a perfectly tailored glove. The gentle squeeze of your kegels anytime he or Joker did something you found particularly pleasurable, whether it was tugging on your hair, slapping your ass, or degrading you with their words, just made him feel so damn good.

Any time he was buried in you, regardless of which hole it was, he always became devoid of any rational thought. The sex consumed all of you, the tension releasing with the exertion of their hips. Infiltrating the temple, investigating Hajima, life had just become so stressful lately. This was the only time any of you could truly just let go.

That familiar tight coil was winding itself up in your lower abdomen, the pressure building with every thrust as you took deep breaths through your nose. “Ahh, Sister,” Joker said through heavy breaths, “You better be a good girl and not swallow right away.”

Of course you knew what he meant, the way his thrusts became a little less in sync with Beni’s and a little more arrhythmic as he chased after his orgasm. He was the first to come, filling your mouth and throat with warm white seed. He pulled away, still holding onto your hair as you stuck out your covered tongue to show him, the white liquid spilling onto the mat beneath you as you were pounded from behind. Your moans were no longer muffled and were loudly filling the small room. No doubt other members of squad seven could hear you, not that you card any more. Konro was probably just shaking his head at his captain’s antics.

“Now swallow.” Joker instructed as he sat back on his heels. Your tongue retracted into your mouth and you swallowed every last drop that hadn’t fallen from your mouth. The blissed out look on your face was almost enough to make him hard again, your whimpers as you neared your peak, the needy look in your eyes. Nothing else mattered in this moment but the release.

You came with another loud cry, collapsing onto your chest as your arms gave out beneath you. Benimaru worked you through it, his balls slapping against your clit had you shaking and sobbing at the overstimulation. A moment later he was filling you up with his own seed, gobs of it gushing out around the base of his cock and onto your folds.

Joker moved to watch him pull out of you slowly so he could observe the gaping, leaky hole. He let out a low whistle at the sight. “Latom,” He said jokingly, folding his hands in prayer as Beni guided your hips down onto the ground. Benimaru rolled his eyes at his partner in crime, making sure to soothe the bruise skin of your ass with his rough hands.

“Get some rest, Sister.” Benimaru said solemnly as he got redressed. “Our investigation resumes tonight.”

You let out a low groan at the reminder, having totally forgotten that you were going back to Hajima headquarters to try and gather more information. “Fine, just let me take a nap first.” You grumbled sleepily. You couldn’t see the soft smile on his face as he glanced at Joker who nodded back in a silent response.

Benimaru maneuvered you to his futon with Joker’s help, covering you with a blanket so you could rest in peace. Then in a few hours it would be business as usual.

#benimaru shinmon #benimaru x reader #fire force #en en no shobotai #enen no shouboutai #fire force imagines #joker x reader #52 x reader #benimaru imagine #joker imagine

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cobaltusami · 3 years

Text

Intimidating

Hey hi hello, I wrote another Gundham t word fic. I had a lot of fun with this one, And It's not as long this time! It's a miracle!

Word count: 2,003 Characters: Gundham Tanaka, Sonia Nevermind

The first few days after the beach party was odd, Everyone was wary to approach Gundham, Afraid of upsetting him by bringing up what happened at the party.

Which was thoughtful of them to be concerned about his feelings, However, Every time Gundham tried to strike up a conversation with any of the others it would quickly trail off and oozed an awkward aura.

His conversations with Hajime weren’t as awkward though, Probably because they both got wrecked with tickles that night. No one seemed to be avoiding Hajime though, Rather they just kept teasing and harassing him every chance they got.

So once again he was pretty much isolated, But maybe after seeing what was happening to Hajime that wasn’t such a bad thing.

He wasn’t completely alone though, Sonia had been spending more time with him, She probably sensed that the others were avoiding him.

“Good morning Gundham!” The Princess beamed at her friend.

Gundham pulled himself away from staring out the window to look up at her. “Good morning, Sonia.”

“Is this seat taken?”

His mismatched eyes glanced around at all the empty seats at his table. “Unless you possess the ability to see the supernatural, No they aren’t taken.”

Come to think of It, No one else was In the dining hall at all.

She giggled. “I think I would be much happier If I could see the supernatural.” She joked as she sat down at the table, Specifically the seat right next to Gundham. “Why are you sitting alone? I would have thought Kazuichi would be sitting with you as well.”

He probably will now that you’re here… He mused In thought.

“Hmph. That fool has been avoiding me since the beach incident.” He answered bitterly.

“Huh? That seems odd. You two were getting along so well.” She frowned, Why would he avoid his friend like this?

Neither of them wanted to tell her why that fight had come about to begin with, Especially not Gundham who had finally made friends.

“Who knows what’s going on In that Mortal’s head.” Gundham mumbled, Leaning forward and resting his arms against the table.

At that moment, Maga-Z, Jum-P, Cham-P and San-D popped out of his scarf and went scurrying down onto the table almost as if waiting for that exact moment, They all looked up at him for a moment.

Gundham tried to look annoyed, But broke out Into a smirk. “Yes yes, I know. You wish to visit the Dark Queen.” He mumbled amusedly as they scurried over to Sonia.

Sonia giggled as she began to pet them. “Good morning to you as well, Devas of Destruction!” She cooed.

“You know, It Is strange. You are the only one they will interact with.” He mused, Watching them.

“It must be because they sense I am not a typical Mortal, As you say.” She smiled.

“I almost think If I were to give you my scarf, They would willingly go with you instead.”

She giggled In amusement, Taking her eyes off the furballs for a moment. “Would you care to test that theory? I might give them back If they do go with me.” She teased.

“Kehehe…” Gundham chuckled, Meeting her eyes. “They would wreak so much havoc that you would be begging for me to take them back.”

Normally, He would have been very over the top saying things like that, But for some reason he wasn’t. His voice was quiet and hadn’t spiked in volume at all. Leaving Sonia to theorize that he may be feeling down due to being isolated.

He almost sounded tired, Too.

“Well, Let us see then.” She smirked. Without taking his eyes off of her, He removed his scarf and handed It to her.

Sonia wasted no time wrapping the purple accessory around her neck.

And of course.

The four hamsters scurried up her arm once she set her hand on the table to see If they would go to her. She laughed brightly as they settled onto her shoulders and In the scarf. She stood up, Readying herself for her monologue.

“Traitors.” He muttered.

“It looks like the Supreme overlord of Ice has met his match, In The GREAT SONIA NEVERMIND! Ruler of the Dark kingdom! The Dark Queen of Destruction!” She imitated Gundham as much as she could, Even striking a pose as she said this. “Fuahaha!”

Gundham cracked up laughing at the sight before him.

Sonia beamed at him, It was nice to see him smile and laugh freely. He didn’t do this nearly enough In her opinion.

“My dear, You are not intimidating.” He chuckled, Regaining his composure. “Though, It was endearing.”

“Not Intimidating?! Fool!” Oh, Looks like she’s continuing this bit. “Do not speak on my fearsomeness until you see my ultimate attack!”

“Oh? And what might that be?” He humored her, Sitting upright.

“I have one more title...” She declared, Sinking down Into the seat next to Gundham, Eliminating any easy chance for escape. “The Ultimate Tickler!”

She immediately shot her hands out and began squeezing his sides, Drawing surprised gasps and giggles from the Ultimate breeder. “S-Sonia?! What do you think you’re doing?!”

“I am punishing you for your earlier discretion! No one says that I am not intimidating and gets away with It!” She smirked as she watched him squirm around.

“But you ahaharen't intimidating! I am speheheaking the truth!” He shot back.

“Oh, You will regret those words If my name Isn’t SONIA NEVERMIND!” She cried out with determination. She managed to sneak her hands under his shirt and began skating her nails across his stomach.

He yelped and lurched backwards, His back hitting the wall behind him. Bubbly laughter began pouring from his lips.

She scooted her chair as close to him as she could, Practically hovering over him now. Escape was certainly not going to be easy. “Fuahaha!” She imitated his usual evil laugh. “You are trapped, And there Is no hope for an escape! You must admit that I am to be feared and MAYBE I shall go easy on you!”

How long was she going to keep up this bit? Who knows. Not me. Certainly not Gundham either. It was really amusing to him though.

“I dohohohon’t lihihihihie!” He laughed, Trying to catch her nimble hands.

“Ohh, Now you’re just ASKING for It!”

Her fingers sped up, Nails gliding up his sides and tracing around each rib bone individually. This prompted him to laugh harder, Trying to wrap his arms around his ribs to protect them.

“Foohohohohoholish Mortal! Did you thihink that Ihihihi would break sohohoho easily!? It taahahahakes more thahahan mere tickling to breheheheak me!”

Maybe he was asking for It, Just a little bit. He kind of liked the attention.

“Mortal?! Fine. Perhaps It Is time I begin my Ultimate attack!” She continued her attack, Lightening up her touch a bit to see his reaction. His laughter remained the same, But he began squirming more, Confirming to her that he was more sensitive to softer tickles. “Are you ready? DEVAS, ATTACK!” She commanded.

As If it were Gundham ordering them, The Hamsters obeyed. Much to his horror, They jumped onto him and began nuzzling against his unfortunately very ticklish neck.

“N-NOHOHOHO! AHAHAHAHAHA! YOU TRAHAHAHAITORS!” He blushed at the volume of his laughter, Especially after just saying he wouldn’t break so easily.

“Fuahaha! They aren’t betraying anyone, They are simply following their Queen’s command!” She was trying to keep In character, Though ended up giggling along with him after this statement. “It seems as though your neck Is quite sensitive, Does that tickle~?” She cooed.

He tried to muffle his laughter by bringing his arms up to shield his face, But Sonia was having none of it. “Gundham!” She broke character finally. “Do not hide, Your laughter sounds wonderful!”

Gundham's face got even redder, Even his neck got a little red. “NOHOHOH IT DOESN’T!” He whined through his laughter.

“Yes, It does! You should laugh like this more often.” She smiled kindly.

The Dark Prince shook his head in protest.

“Enough of that!” Sonia went back Into her character. “I think It Is about time for the Supreme Overlord of Ice to admit defeat to The Dark Queen of Destruction!”

She went in for the metaphorical kill, Though Gundham thought It might actually kill him. She moved her hands up and began tickling under his arms, Being as gentle as she could to invoke more of a reaction.

He let out a scream and his tough persona completely fell apart under the merciless tickles. “NAAHAHAHAHA! NOHOT THERE!” He finally broke. “PLEHEHEASE STAHAHAP!”

Sonia couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “I will end the attack, But you have to admit that I am to be feared! Admit your defeat!” She grinned.

Gundham managed to snatch up two of his Four Dark Devas with his trembling hands In an attempt to turn the tables, But this seemed to only drive the other two to speed up as If to tell him to release their allies. So his actions did very little to alleviate the intense ticklish sensations.

He had no choice to admit defeat.

“OKAHAHAHAHAY! YOU WIHIHIN! AHAHAHAHAHA!”

As much as she wanted to continue, Sonia relented and withdrew her hands. “San-D, Cham-P, Both of you can stop now.” She gently reached out and grabbed them off of his shoulders, Petting them affectionately as the other two joined them. “Good Devas…” She praised them.

Gundham slumped over the table, Gasping for air and breathing heavily. “You are… Truly evil…” He panted.

She smiled at him. “Nonsense. I could have been a lot more cruel than I was.”

That made chills run down his spine. He shuddered visibly at the thought. He turned his head- Which was still resting against the table- To look at her. “Even so, I suppose I was no match for your power THIS time. But next time, You’re In for a tough fight.”

Sonia giggled, Setting the Hamsters back down on the table. “My power knows no bounds, Foolish Prince! Now, Admit that I am intimidating. Or else I shall sic the Four Dark Devas of Destruction and Tickles on you again!”

“Did… Did you just rename them?”

“Better hurry up~”

“Gh-- F-Fine. You are the most Fearsome creature I’ve ever come across. Even I, The Great Gundham Tanaka, Am intimidated by you... Does that satisfy you?”

Even though his speech was low energy, She could tell he was In higher spirits than earlier. The Princess giggled as she took off his scarf. “Yes, The Dark Queen thanks you.” She set It on the table and the Devas immediately curled up In it.

“Looks like they’re tired.” He observed.

“Almost as tired as you are.” She added, Running her fingers through his black and gray hair affectionately. “You seemed tired this morning, Did you not sleep well?”

The Supreme Overlord of Ice completely melted under her touch, His eyes fluttering closed. “Not particularly.” He admitted. “As foolish as It is, I suppose I was a bit upset about being avoided by the others.”

Sonia frowned. “I do not understand why they are acting so weird. Especially Kazuichi.”

Because he’s Kazuichi. He shrugged his shoulders a bit.

“Perhaps I will have a conversation with him.” She thought aloud.

“N-No. That’s not necessary. I’m sure he has a reason.”

“I am too, That Is why I wish to talk to him to find out why. It Is clearly something that Is troubling you, So It Is troubling me as well.” The Princess had already made up her mind.

Gundham knew It was pointless to argue any further, So he remained silent. Soon dozing off.

Sonia giggled as she heard a soft snore, Still running her fingers through his hair. She wondered why nobody could see this side of Gundham when they talked to him, She Instantly saw through his cold facade.

Maybe It was the same reason people couldn’t see how Intimidating she can be at first glance.

#tickle story #goodbye despair #dangonronpa tickle #Sonia Nevermind #Gundham Tanaka #Lee!Gundham #tickling #ticklish #Ler!Sonia #sdr2 tickle #goodbye despair tickle #Okay but I love Sonia imitating Gundham??#Like yes Dark Queen

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imagine-loki · 3 years

Text

Omega Mine

TITLE: Omega Mine

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 20/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Loosely based on: Imagine Loki discovers the Avengers have an omega who has healing powers living with them. He’s an Alpha and he wants her, badly.

RATING: M (eventually )

NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3 click here

“Elskling? Are you going out?” Loki asked when you came into the common room on the day of the press conference. He had looked up from his book automatically when you came into the room, his Omega’s presence drawing his attention.

It wasn’t hard to tell that you were going out. You were dressed properly for once. Including shoes, which were the bane of your existence most of the time. You generally only wore fuzzy socks on your feet at the most. You were also dressed nicer than the lounge clothes you usually wore around the tower.

You saw the concern in Loki’s eyes. He was still grounded to the tower and couldn’t go out with you if you were indeed going out. He didn’t like the idea of his Omega going out without him. He couldn’t truly protest if you were going out alone, at least no more than any Alpha could in relation to an Omega in their pack. He hadn’t officially claimed you yet, so he only had so much say over your life. It seemed like only a matter of time.

You nodded to answer his question. “Yes, Talia and I are going out to get our hair and nails done before the press conference tonight,” you explained. You’d chosen a buttoned shirt for that reason, so you wouldn’t mess up your hair later when you changed into your dress for the event.

Loki considered that, his instincts warring with the knowledge that you were safe with any of the team members. “Lady Natasha will be accompanying you?” He confirmed.

You nodded again and gave him a gentle look as you finally came all the way over to the couch he was sitting on. “Yes. She’ll be with me the whole time and she’s driving,” you placed a hand on Loki’s shoulder as you spoke, reassuring him with that bit of physical contact.

Loki stood and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his arms. He nuzzled you, scenting you as he did. It was an Alpha’s protective nature driving him to do. It was a way to claim you without the permanent bond, to tell any Alpha you came across that you were under the protection of an Alpha. His scent and physic scent were strong, not that he smelled bad. He smelled amazing, like parchment, mint, magic, and the crispness of a winter’s day. But it was more than the physical scent. It was a physic scent as well, a practically magical communication that indicated the physical and mental strength of the Alpha in question. Loki was a god. He was beyond strong and his scenting you would warn any Alpha you came across to stay away from you.

He pressed a kiss to your hair. “Much better, Elskling,” he purred softly, relaxing when you were properly scented and smelled like his. You were used to such behavior. When the Alphas on the team were feeling overprotective it made them feel better to scent you as a member of their pack. You knew this was more. This was a claim. It wasn’t a permanent claim, but it was a claim nonetheless.

“We’ll be alright, Loki,” you promised him.

“Be careful,” he replied softly.

“She’ll be safe with me,” Nat promised as she came into the room to meet you. “We’ll be back in a couple of hours,”

Loki hesitated, then gave you another nuzzle to make sure you were properly scented before he let you go. “Have fun, Elskling,” he said. He was reluctant to let you leave without him to protect you, but he knew you were safe with Nat, and he wouldn’t keep you from having a life.

You leaned up and kissed his cheek. “We will!” You told him brightly and headed over to Nat to leave the tower with her.

Loki’s hand rose to his cheek where you’d kissed it, a light purple blush to his cheeks, and a shocked look on his face at your bold gesture.

He definitely liked it and you practically heard him purr as you left.

You enjoyed your trip out of the tower with Nat and got your hair, makeup, and nails done for the press conference. The team loved doting on you and spoiling you, so they were eager to make sure you had the very best for any event you had to attend. And you never had to do your own hair or makeup. Not a single Alpha dared cause any trouble, despite you not being claimed, thanks to Loki’s scent surrounding you.

You made it back to the tower and reassured Loki that you were home safely before you headed up to your apartment to get dressed. Nat had brought her dress for the evening to your apartment as well, so you could get ready together. “Are you sure Loki’s going to like it?” You asked her shyly as she zipped up the back of your evening gown for you. There was no denying that you liked Loki, liked, liked him.

“He’ll love it, Meimei,” Nat promised warmly.

The gown was gorgeous. It was mostly black, but when the light hit it, the top layer shimmered green. It was tasteful, not too revealing as was proper for an Omega, but fit to you, making you look amazing. Your jewelry was tasteful. Necklaces weren’t popular for Omegas, because of the collar you had to wear, but you had a simple gold bracelet and gold drop earrings.

Nat helped you with the finishing touches and to put on your heels. She was wearing a black and red gown for the evening and looked fantastic as always. You felt inadequate next to her. “You look amazing. He won’t be able to take his eyes off of you,” she promised.

You thanked her for her kind words, and nervously headed down to the common room with her to meet up with the boys. They insisted on being inspected before the press conference to make sure they were presentable. Apparently, it was necessary when Thor was concerned as he wasn’t used to Midgardian attire.

You stepped out of the elevator and the boys all turned to you and Nat. They all had appreciative looks on their faces and gave the expected compliments.

You scanned the room and easily caught sight of Loki. He was standing a bit apart from the others, dressed in an all black suit, with black tie, and black dress shirt. It could only be described as a black suit of sexiness. You watched as his eyes caught on you, as he looked over you and your outfit. You saw the appraisal in his expression and waited with bated breath for his verdict.

His appraisal turned to approval and what you read as lust in his eyes.

Nat was right. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

He strode over to you with his usual feline grace and took your hand, bowing over it and kissing your knuckles in a romantic, princely gesture. “My lady, you look absolutely radiant this evening,” he purred, making your heart flutter as your breath hitched.

“Thank you, Alpha,” you managed to finally reply when you found your words again. It was the proper response, but you could tell that Loki heard the distinction in the words, the word you left unsaid. He heard what you didn’t say and absolutely loved it.

While you had said ‘thank you, alpha’ aloud, what you had really said, even without the missing word was ‘thank you my alpha’ and that made all the difference.

#Loki #Lover #Submitted fic #submission #Omega mine #Chapter 20 #nekoamamori

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babyybitchhhwrites · 4 years

Text

Senkuu x Reader 18+

Title: Make It Hurt

Rating: Explicit/R-18

Words: 5946

Warnings: Nipple Play, Nipple Clamps, Sadism, Masochism, Begging, Rutting, Vaginal Fingering, Established Relationship, Power Dynamics, Modern Era

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24847819

♥♥♥♥

Bathed in the fading light coming in from the window, you sat naked and vulnerable. The familiar bed, in which you usually found nothing but peace and comfort, suddenly felt like an execution slab as you watched Senkuu finish prepping for the scene with his usual brand of methodical care.

Calling it a sadistic experiment would probably be more accurate, the knowledge of what he was about to do to you making you rub your thighs together restlessly. You’d both agreed to a list of set parameters regarding tonight’s activities after a lengthy discussion concerning limits and safewords wherein the ever particular genius had explained in excruciating detail exactly what he wanted to do with you. Although he occasionally gave them a nudge, Senkuu was always careful about not overstepping your boundaries which meant he was as exceptionally thorough with these negotiations as with everything else. Being with him was, in many ways, like having a fantasy come to life and you’d grown unbearably wet just from listening to him talk.

But now that the countdown to showtime had reached its final moments, you couldn’t quite tell if you were horny or scared anymore. It seemed some heady mixture of the two as you watched him roll white sleeves up to the elbows before glancing over the tools he’d neatly arranged on his bedside table. Your skin, already damp with anxious sweat, crawled with nerves when you followed his line of sight.

You issued a quiet whimper and squeezed your legs as tight as you possibly could, fitfully squirming on top of the comforter. Senkuu immediately caught what you were doing and he sent you a knowing little smirk as he climbed up to join you with his back facing the headboard.

“Are you nervous or excited?”

“Excited.” You automatically answered.

Humming doubtfully, Senkuu settled in across from you with his legs folded over one another. He looked comfortable. Right at home in this power exchange. “What’s your color?”

You blinked. It was a bit surprising to hear him ask that before he’d even gotten started. “Green.”

Senkuu’s leering smile only grew wider. “Good. Don’t hesitate to call yellow if you need to. I’d rather take a short break than stop altogether.”

“I won’t.” You assured him with a warbling smile of your own.

Drawing a slow breath that made his shoulders rise and fall, Senkuu tentatively reached for your bare chest. You sat up a little straighter, arching your back in open invitation, and a shudder rippled through you when the rough pad of his thumb brushed your nipple. A quiet, faltering sigh slipped out of you. Unbidden but sincere.

The sensitive bundle of nerve endings had gradually softened over the last few minutes as you’d adjusted to the temperature of his room but now it seemed to spring back to life with an eager quickness that left you feeling lightheaded. Curling, pebbling tight and then finally peaking into a stiff pucker. Your mouth parted as if to moan but nothing came out. Senkuu’s ministrations were persistent and steady, and he continued to toy with the meaty nub long after it had stirred to full attention. He took his time simply alternating between gentle swipes of his thumb back and forth over the tip and dragging the pad of his finger across it to evoke sharp bursts of friction that made you shudder. His attention was all on your face though; ruby red eyes taking in every minute emotion that flitted across your pinched expression and carefully filing it away for later use.

That was what he found appealing about this arrangement. Not the sex itself, though you were certain you would have heard about it by now if he’d had any complaints. Rather it was the sense of discovery and triumph he felt every time he found a new way to turn your body against you, each new reaction just further stoking that adventurous spirit burning within him. Senkuu wanted to know exactly what made you tick and how. At what speed. What pressure. Where your physical limits truly were. Which of them could be tested and which ones were set in stone. It seemed there was no discernable ceiling on his curiosity, particularly not when there were still so many avenues of inquiry on the matter of human sexulity left to explore, and you groaned as the insistent tweaking started to make your nipple ache .

“You like that?” He crooned, quiet and sly.

Swallowing hard, you gave your head a jerky nod. “It feels good. You should do the other one too.”

Senkuu closed his thumb and forefinger around the stiff tip of your breast and chidingly tugged on it. “That’s not how you ask for something, is it?”

“Please …”

He made a thoughtful noise of consideration at that and you weren’t particularly surprised to find him callously grinning at you when you lifted your attention from his hand. Senkuu promptly cocked his head to one side, looking every bit the sadistic demon lord your peers so often jokingly accused him of being. “I think you do that on purpose just so I have to punish you for being disobedient.” He murmured, pulling on your nipple until you seethed at the pain.

“But you like it.” You croaked.

“You’re right. I do.” Lifting his other hand, Senkuu reached for your neglected tit and your breath hitched in trembling anticipation. “Ten billion points to my bratty, hard headed girlfriend.”

You watched him pinch his fingers around the pliably soft flesh with wide, blown out eyes only to go ramrod stiff when he immediately tugged on it hard enough to pull a surprised grunt from your throat. No preamble or buildup. Just a sharp, unforgiving jerk that left you reeling and swaying forward unsteadily in a futile attempt to lessen the sting by some margin.

Senkuu merely noised a low sound of pleasure and twisted his wrist, tweaking your nipple at such a relentless degree that it actually brought you up onto your knees as if compelled by invisible puppet strings. Your hands scrabbled at his forearms, nails sinking into firm skin, but he was altogether implacable. Dauntless in his pursuit of blurring the line between pleasure and pain.

The sheer intensity of the sensation had you writhing, torn between arching into the exquisite torture he was inflicting and grinding down on the sheets in a blithe attempt at relieving the thrumming ache in your cunt. Your once jumbled thoughts were nothing more than a mess of static white noise now and you couldn’t think straight. Only feel.

You were already toeing the line of your threshold when he abruptly squeezed your nipples so tightly that it made tears spring up in your eyes, and you jolted. “O - ooooh …!”

“Do you want to try asking again?”

“Pluh - please!” You squawked, answering him on autopilot. “Please, sir! Please play with my tits! Please, please, plea -”

He only increased the pressure. “Color?”

“Yellow!”

His fingers instantly loosened their hold and your back bowed as blinding bursts of throbbing hurt splintered throughout your chest. You wheezed, mouth hanging open on a stricken groan that seemed to stick in your throat. The pain didn’t put a damper on your arousal half as much as it probably should have and you trembled when your pussy spasmed around nothing, gushing yet more sticky slick to coat your inner thighs.

Senkuu issued a consolingly hushed whisper as he brushed the pads of his thumbs over the sore peeks of your breasts as if in apology. “Shhh. Is that better?”

You sucked in a ragged gulp of air and nodded.

Sighing a quiet noise of approval, he resumed his earlier gentle ministrations which, much to your frazzled surprise, had your nipples rapidly puckering all over again. “You sure you want to try this today? I think the clothespins are going to hurt worse than my fingers …”

You had to force yourself to look away from the infinitely patient expression on his face and steal a furtive glance at the contents of the bedside table. A tinge of undeniable excitement pulsed within you and raced straight to your cunt, but you knew your own body well enough to recognize what you could or couldn’t handle yet. “I’d like to give it a shot …” You said slowly. “But maybe we should hold off on the plastic ones.”

“Deal.”

Swinging your attention around, you were greeted by a wide, boyish smile that quickly had you grinning right back at him. Senkuu adjusted his hands so they were cradling the globular weight of your breasts in his palms before leaning forward and you mirrored the action to meet him halfway. His mouth was firm against yours, warm and just plushy enough to make you melt into him. The sort of kiss that reminded you exactly how soft he was capable of being with you even when he was in the process of acting on his sadistic tendencies.

You happily let him take the lead and guide your lips with the coaxing push and pull of his own, basking in the taste of him when Senkuu’s tongue tantalizingly brushed against yours. He pulled away a brief moment later and you sat back on your haunches to watch him grab up the pair of wooden clothespins you could only assume he’d snagged from the laundry room. Setting one on his bent knee, he lifted the other between the two of you and pinched it open.

“Hand.”

You instinctively reached out, covering his outstretched palm with yours. The fact you were behaving like a well trained dog hit you only seconds later and, flushing, you tried to retract your arm. Senkuu closed long digits around your knuckles and held you in place though, laughing as he brought the gaping maw of the clothespin closer.

“You can be a good girl when you want to be.” He said, teasingly light. “Tell me if this seems too painful.”

Whatever you might have thought about that ‘good girl’ comment died in your throat when he unceremoniously clamped the pin into place over the meaty tip of your pointer finger. You twitched at the sensation and let it ruminate for a prolonged beat before making your decision.

“It’s a little uncomfortable,” You told him honestly. “But not terrible.”

Senkuu’s eyes lit up with the excitement of a new discovery and he eagerly grinned from ear to ear. “How long do you think you’ll be able to handle it on your nipples?”

You thought about that. “Mm. Five minutes? Maybe more?”

Snickering, he plucked the clothespin from your finger, making you start at the sudden rush of feeling to the nerves. It was almost like the aching aftermath hurt worse than the initial sharp squeeze, or perhaps it was that you merely noticed it more when the constant pressure of the pinchers retreated, but either way you had to reconsider your estimation a bit.

Far from being intimidated though, you squirmed in eager excitement as Senkuu released your hand in favor of reaching for your nipple again. He took his time teasing the nub back to straining attention, your breath coming a little quicker at the resulting jolts of friction that had you practically vibrating on the bed. Once he was satisfied with the puckered state of your teat, he pinched around the areola so that he’d have a clear shot and lifted the clothespin. You held your breath, unable to look away even if you’d wanted to.

“I’m going to do it quick.” He warned.

You barely had enough time to register what he’d said before the unforgiving pegs closed around your nipple and you choked on a hurt grunt. Senkuu studied your expression carefully as you rocked forward on your knees, long spindly digits hovering over the item in question in case you suddenly blurted out ‘red’.

It was undeniably more painful than it had been on your finger but, you were surprised to find, breathing through it helped lessen the severity somewhat. The red hot burn quickly faded to a dull, throbbing ache and your toes curled when a fresh rush of endorphins surged through your system. Feeling unbearably flushed and borderline delirious, you shook even as you forced yourself to relax and settle on top of the comforter once again. Recognizing the obvious acceptance in your body language, Senkuu moved his hand to the other breast.

“You have no idea how incredibly attractive you look right now.” He breathed, sounding like this was finally having an affect on him.

You smiled, or tried to at any rate. Your bottom lip was quivering against your will and you bit down on it to stifle the stricken sound that tried to claw its way up your throat when Senkuu started plucking at your nipple with quick, borderline impatient strokes. Each burst of pleasure seemed to reflect in the opposite tit as pain and you were pitifully whimpering by the time he finally squeezed the areola between his fingers a short moment later.

Expecting another abrupt, squeezing pinch, you screwed your eyes shut and braced for the inevitable. Senkuu managed to catch you off guard when he closed the second clothespin around your nipple in taunting slow motion, forcing you to feel every little bit of force behind the simple contraption as it bore down on sensitive skin. A faltering groan erupted from your mouth before you could stop it and you arched into the air, balling your hands in the sheets.

“A - aaahh … Senkuu!”

He let go of the pin and withdrew his fingers, letting you feel the full brunt of its punishing squeeze. You moaned, breathless and strained, allowing your gaze to dart down and admire his handiwork. The sight of the clothespins sticking straight out from your breasts, the sore flesh of your nipples spilling out through the sides where they were pinched so tight that they had nowhere else to go, made you shudder so hard that you felt momentarily faint. Something about the way those benign implements of torture shook right along with you and emphasized the hurt you were feeling only seemed to turn you on all the more, and you enthusiastically jutted your tits up into the air for more. The space between your thighs was obscenely slick now and, hardly even realizing you were doing it, you finally gave into the urge to grind your pussy on the sheet with an accompanying wanton moan.

“Holy shit …” Senkuu hissed.

Mouth hanging open on one ragged, gasping pant after another, you peered up at him through the fall of your lashes. He was watching over your shameless display with nothing short of awe, creeping heat marching across his cheeks. Dropping your attention lower, you shuddered when you saw the tent pressing tight against the front of his slacks and instinctively circled your hips again. The amount of friction you derived from rubbing your sticky cunt on the bedspread wasn’t exactly satisfying, not nearly enough to get you off, but it felt good so you kept doing it much to Senkuu’s groaning approval.

“That’s it. Just like that.” He said on a heavy exhale. “You can cum as many times as you want but you’re not allowed to use your hands.”

You huffed and dropped your arm back to the bed where you’d already been reaching for your throbbing clit. Gently laughing at your predicament, Senkuu reclined back against the headboard and laced his fingers over his stomach. The way he shifted to ease the pressure in his pants drew your gaze to the very clear outline of his cock again and you let out a sobbing moan that seemed to echo off the walls.

“You really like it that much?”

You sniffled and jerked your head in a quick nod.

“Do you still think you can last five minutes?”

Mewling softly, you tucked your chin down to regard your chest again. “I don’t know … it’s intense. Every time I think I’m getting used to it, the pain kind of flares back up. Especially when the clothespins move.”

“I figured as much.” He said thoughtfully, the exhilarated note coloring his voice not going unnoticed. “And am I right to assume that’s the reason why you keep jostling them like that? Do you enjoy the way it hurts?”

“Senkuu …”

Closing your eyes, you pressed your cheek into your shoulder and drug your pelvis across the comforter with more fervor. It wasn’t enough. Not even close. It only made you want release all the more, and you whined in frustration.

“I’ll have to throw that blanket in the washing machine by the time you’re finished with it.” He teased.

“You’re so mean.”

“But you like it.”

Your face warmed, embarrassed to have him throwing your own words back at you. It was particularly bothersome in this situation when relief seemed like such a far off, unattainable goal and you lifted your head to fix him with an imploring pout that you already knew wouldn’t work on him. He’d proven himself immune to such tricks on multiple occasions in the past and you didn’t expect this instance to be any different, but that wasn’t going to stop you from trying.

“Ooh. That’s a cute face.” Lifting a mischievous brow, Senkuu pinned you with a deliberately sharp smirk. “I hope you manage to make yourself cum. I’d like to see how you and those clothespins look when you’re shaking through an orgasm.”

You let loose a high strung, undulating groan. “I caaan’t … it hurts!”

“It’s supposed to hurt. You’ve only gone about two and a half minutes though so I can’t take them off just yet.” He paused, watching you lean forward to grind your pussy against the bed from a different angle. A moment of quiet passed between the two of you, interspersed only by the sound of your labored breathing while you desperately tried to find orgasm on the sheets before he finally deigned to speak again. “Now what’s your color?”

It took you a prolonged beat to fully comprehend the question and another to find your answer. “I’m getting close to yellow.”

Noising his acknowledgement, Senkuu shifted against the headboard and spread his legs enough to be comfortable. He reached down and palmed his erection through the front of his pants with a tight squeeze and the sight alone made your pussy flutter. Mouth watering with the overwhelming desire to swallow his cock down your throat, you dazedly leaned forward until your pulsating cunt came up off the bed. Your hips twitched at the loss of friction and you hesitated, torn between two equally strong urges. Would you have rather eked out a shuddering, desperate orgasm for yourself or did you want to choke on him until your face was wet with reflexive tears? You honestly weren’t sure anymore, and Senkuu chuckled when he saw the war waging in your eyes.

“Don’t worry about me right now. I want you to keep rubbing yourself on my bed.” He told you in a low, devious tone. “I’d like to see you cum, but it’s okay if you really can’t. As long as it feels good that’s all that matters. Have you heard of Pavolov before?”

You closed your eyes and valiantly tried to process that, to no avail. “What?”

“It’s not important right now. I’ll explain later. I just think you’ll be able to last longer than you thought you could if you focus on the pleasure instead of the pain. It’s been almost four minutes now so you’re getting close. You can take the clothespins off if you need to.”

The eager, lilting note in his voice did not escape your notice and it seemed to warm you from the inside out. It made your loins curl to the point of true suffering and you moaned as you plopped your ass back down on the bed. Spreading your thighs as wide as you could, you braced your hands in front of you and ground your pelvis into the sheets with a stuttering exhale. Faint, tingling bursts of friction consumed your clit on each downward stroke but the stimulation wasn’t direct enough to accomplish much of anything. It only made you feel even more needy and feverish, your pussy pounding in time with your heartbeat as you numbly stared at Senkuu through a foggy, lust tinted lense. The pins bobbed on your screaming tits with every roiling heave of your body, delicate flesh burning raw, and you were ashamed to realize just how much you truly loved the hurt. It was intoxicating.

Licking his lips, Senkuu’s fingers dipped lower to caress the weight of his balls through cotton slacks and you groaned at the sight. “Four minutes and thirty seconds. You’re doing so good, baby …”

You swallowed the hysterical sound that tried to force its way up your throat as you slowed your desperate humping to a stilted halt. All that bouncing friction seemed to have made the unforgiving pinchers dig into your teats to the point of real discomfort and it suddenly felt like they were being assaulted by pins and needles. The undeniable pain made you wince and, seething, you gradually sat upright so you could peer down at your breasts. A frazzled, bleating groan instantly rolled off your tongue when you saw how the nipples had darkened over the last few minutes, the bulging skin looking bruised and unbearably tender.

Your hands flew up to remove them on instinctive autopilot, something not far off from genuine panic sparking in the back of your mind. The notion that your nipples would be permanently damaged after this was a scary thought but you stopped yourself from grabbing the clothespins when you realized how unlikely that was. There were much worse tortures that could have been inflicted on them and you knew Senkuu would never do anything to truly hurt you. If there was even a slim possibility of genuinely negative consequences with this sort of play then he would have approached it much differently.

That knowledge didn’t make it feel any better though and you gagged around a distressed whimper, swaying unsteadily on your knees.

“You can take them off if you need to. Don’t force yourself.”

You shook your head. “How much longer?”

Senkuu didn’t need to clarify what you were asking and, without missing a beat, he said “Fifteen seconds.”

You gulped down a frazzled gasp of air to steady yourself, keeping your hands poised just above the wooden pegs. They were digging into your nipples so excruciatingly hard that you could have wailed but you were close enough to the finish line that you couldn’t justify giving up. You’d said you could handle it for five minutes and, even though you recognized how greatly you’d overestimated your pain tolerance, you wanted to see it through to the end. The fact that Senkuu was watching you with an expression that was as impressed as it was turned on certainly helped bolster your determination and you emphatically shook when he opened his mouth to speak.

“Five seconds.”

Heaving, you hunched forward and braced yourself.

“Four. Three. Two. One.”

A haggard moan of relief burst out of you as you closed your fingers around the clothespins. Senkuu leaned forward, most likely with the intent of helping, but you couldn’t wait any longer. You pinched them open only to choke on a half stifled scream when the brutal pins seemed to cling to sensitive skin and pull. You instantly shook from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, letting loose a drawn out, keening wail as you gingerly removed them from your stinging tits. The pain was suddenly even worse, each sharp, throbbing burst felt throughout your entire body but especially in your pussy. You reeled when contracting walls clamped down on nothing except your own slick with enough force to make it ache and your clit pulsed impotently at the sensation.

It was a little embarrassing to find that this, too, was arousing in its own way and when Senkuu reached out to cup your breasts, you let him.

“Look at you.” He murmured, sounding just short of awe. “Such a good girl.You did a great job, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you, you know that?”

Swallowing a blubbering, overwrought animal noise, you leaned into the comforting warmth of Senkuu’s body and allowed yourself to bask in the quiet praise he was showering you with. It made you feel beyond happy even while your withering nipples screamed in protest at the abuse they’d endured, your breath catching when he soothingly smoothed his palms over the raw tips. You had to turn your head and look at the far wall, bringing a hand to your mouth to stop the mewling whimpers that were building on your tongue from materializing. He was nothing but gentle with you though and the raw ache gradually faded to a dull burn under his steady ministrations over the next few moments. You felt like you were floating somewhere in purgatory, the space between heaven and hell some heady amalgamation of the two. It was perfect.

“Color?”

You struggled to find the answer to that when you were still lurching from the onslaught of stimuli. “Yellow-green.”

Senkuu snorted a brief laugh. “That’s not how the color system works, baby. I need a real answer or we’ll have to stop.”

Huffing, you slowly brought your attention around to look at him. “It was a hard yellow but now it's bordering on green. I liked it but then I hated it, and now I like it again.”

Warm smile curling his mouth, Senkuu shifted closer and carefully laid you down on your back. He was practically oozing approval as he slotted in beside you, mindful of not brushing his shirt against your breasts. You issued a stuttering sigh into the still air, curling your body towards him as he splayed long fingers across your stomach and comfortingly rubbed circles into the skin. The clean, soapy smell of him swarmed your senses, making you feel at peace when it settled over you like a familiar blanket.

Tilting your head, you followed his line of sight and glanced at your chest only to gasp when you saw how mangled your nipples looked. The indent from the unforgiving clothespins was stark and mildly alarming, the delicate flesh still pinched even without the pegs clamped around them. You mewled and squirmed, prompting Senkuu to crane his attention around to peer into your face again.

“Do you still like it?”

You squeezed your thighs together when that question made your pussy thrum with a resounding tremor so powerful you couldn’t have concealed it even if you’d tried. “Yes …”

Groaning in hushed encouragement, Senkuu slipped the hand on your belly further down to dip between your thighs. You shuddered when he curled bony fingers into the doughy soft flesh of your upper leg and hiked it over his hip, effectively baring your drenched cunt to the room. Feeling indescribably sensitive to even the smallest sensory input, you balled your fist into his white button up and twisted against him with a needy, wanton moan.

“Let’s see if you’re telling the truth.” He rasped, all sly confidence as he roughly drug the flat of his palm across your inner thigh.

You struggled to lift your head so you could watch what he was doing, sobbing quietly when Senkuu reached for your pussy. Every moment felt like an eternity, like he was moving in agonizing slow motion, and the first contact of his fingers on your labia made you jolt. He breathed out a somewhat surprised noise as he traced the length of your slit with halting, gliding passes that left you trembling uncontrollably next to him.

“You’re so wet …”

“Senkuuuu!”

Shushing you, he pressed a lingering peck to the swell of your breast. His focus was entirely on the spot between your legs though and the two of you choked at the same time when he pushed one of those sinfully long digits into your waiting body. No resistance, no pushback. You were so thoroughly soaked that he merely slid right into you straight down to the knuckle with an accompanying sticky click that seemed to reverberate off the walls. You arched your back and wheezed, toes curling uselessly in the air and against the sheets. It felt so indescribably good to finally have something, anything , inside your pounding cunt that you could have screamed.

“Damn.” He hissed. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you already came at least twice. Did you really get this excited just from having your nipples clamped?”

You couldn’t take it any longer and you tossed your head back against the sheets, screwing your eyes shut. “I did! I did, sir, please! I want to cum so bad! Please make me cum and play with my tits some more! I’ll do anything, sir, I swear it! I -”

“What’s your color now?” He asked, cutting across your desperate babbling with ease.

“Guh - green!”

The faltering puff of air he let out tickled your chest, causing eager goosebumps to erupt across your skin. You seethed at the sensation and tilted your pelvis towards his hand, pathetically grinding on the finger that was lodged inside you. It wasn’t enough to get you off but it was still somehow gratifying and you keened.

Senkuu responded with a low, anticipatory grunt of his own, turning his head and closing his mouth around your abused nipple. A second digit slipped into your cunt at the same time, just as easily as the first had, and you went ramrod stiff against him. Your lips parted as if to scream but nothing came out. All you could do was shake as a tidal wave of sensation consumed you within the span of a single heartbeat, the dull throb from your teat when he gently laved it with his tongue bleeding seamlessly into the dizzying bursts of pleasure that were emanating from your contracting pussy. You couldn’t figure out which feeling to focus on, they were both too powerful to ignore. Too intense to differentiate one from the other. It was like drowning in the most wonderfully horrible carnal waters known to man and you couldn’t have been any happier about that.

“S - Senkuu! Oooh! Shit!”

Moaning around your nipple, he twisted his hand and pushed yet another finger into you. The stretch was finally too much for even your gushing arousal and you shook so hard that it seemed to rattle your teeth. Your heaving body resisted, contracting around the intrusion in a misguided attempt at denying him access, but Senkuu was able to worm it in right alongside the others with an enthusiastic wiggle. The pressure on your gummy upper wall doubled, blinding you with the sheer force of it, and your ass came up off the bed as you dug your feet into the mattress with a delighted shriek.

He easily followed you, keeping his digits buried inside your squeezing passage as he lapped at your teat more insistently than before. You could feel every little brush of his tongue in startling high definition, the meaty nub responding to the teasingly light friction as if it hadn’t been mercilessly mashed by a clothespin only moments ago. The powerful tinges of pleasure laced pain threatened to bowl you over on the spot and you writhed, growing more wild when Senkuu ground the heel of his palm against your neglected clit. You were tipping dangerously fast, fighting just to breathe through it while increasingly violent tremors wracked your body one right after another. He knew exactly how to play with your pussy to have you shattering around him in a matter of moments when that was his goal rather than denial and there was nothing you could do to stop it even if you’d wanted to.

“Please!” You cried out in urgency. “Right there! I’m gonna’ cum, Senkuu! Right theeere!”

Increasing the pressure he was exerting on your g-spot with his fingers, he dug his palm against your clit forcefully enough to make you lurch. You pulsating walls promptly clamped down on him, locked in dizzying tension for a small eternity while he rolled his hand into your flooding cunt. You sucked in a haggard gasp and the coil abruptly snapped, catching you off guard and making you scream as orgasm finally washed over you with all the destructive power of a crashing tsunami wave. It had you shaking so fitfully that it made the bed rattle, tears instantly springing up in your eyes while your mouth hung open in doped out bliss.

Allowing you to ride out the wild tremors on his soaked digits, Senkuu lifted his head to watch your face contort in mind numbing pleasure. You were only vaguely aware that he was staring at you from just a scant few inches away, much too caught up in your trembling ecstasy to give it more than a passing thought while your pussy was still noisily sucking on his fingers. The moment seemed to drag on forever but, just when you thought for sure you couldn’t handle much more, the contractions started to subside and you went limp on top of the bedspread with a deeply ruffled groan. You were totally spent. Achingly satisfied and comfortably floating somewhere on cloud nine, but ultimately spent.

“Hmm. You look like you enjoyed that.” Senkuu murmured, that sly edge creeping into his tone once again as he slowly withdrew his fingers from your body. “Final verdict?”

Wincing slightly at the sticky wet squelch that rose up between your legs, you groggily shifted to peer over at him. “It was good. Really intense at times, but I liked it.”

“So you’d be up to doing it again?” He said with a mischievous wiggle of his brows.

“Yes.” Laughing softly, you reached out to tuck one of the loose hanging, silver-white strands behind his ear. “But not today. My nipples hurt .”

“I bet.”

Dipping his face down, Senkuu brushed an apologetic kiss to the sore tip of your breast. You shuddered and let him do the same to the opposite teat before bringing your hands up to push at his narrow shoulders. He acquiesced without a fuss, letting you guide him back onto the bed as you sat up to hover over him. You licked your lips and reached for the buttons on his shirt, deftly undoing them one after another until the skin underneath was laid bare to you.

He deviously smirked when you leaned forward and kissed his collarbone before making your way down the lean expanse of his chest. Senkuu’s breath was slow and shallow under your mouth, a testament to the fact that he was still very much aroused, and you wasted no time busying your hands with his slacks. The click of the belt seemed loud in your ears, the following zrrrrt of the zipper just as deafening. You shifted over top of him and tugged his pants down long legs, throwing them over the side of the bed once they were free of his feet.

Sitting up on your knees, you gave him an appreciative once over. Senkuu looked like a luxuriating king sprawled out on the comforter in nothing but an open shirt and black boxer briefs, your sticky cunt stirring at the sight of him. The realization that maybe you weren’t entirely spent after all made you feel giddy as you trailed your nail down the center of his flat stomach tauntingly slow.

“Now it’s your turn ...”

#dr stone #senkuu ishigami #senkuu x reader #senku x reader #senku ishigami #self insert bullshit #My writing

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