#'but there's no time for that the reapers are coming' there was enough time for a whole ass party

[mourn-and-watch]

i wish me3 had loyalty missions it would be so sooo good. assisting some shadow broker agents with liara. joining kaidan/ashley on one of their first spectre assignments to reassure them. helping garrus to evacuate his family from palaven. sticking around with tali on rannoch to make sure quarians and the geth are doing fine. handing a serious job to james and guiding him through it as a part of his n7 training. going on a task with edi to help her adjust to working with other people as a person and not as a vi. visiting javik's squad's resting place with him. doing little favors for your friends in the middle of a war because life itself hasn't ended yet and you want to make it a little easier for them while you have some time left

[nightingaletrash]

me: Sharp is his own unique character and is very distinct from Garrus. They share a VA and a few overlapping traits, but they’re not the same person- Sharp: *says something that Garrus has absolutely said* me: ... me: okay now I want fanart of them talking shit (affectionate) about their respective favourite persons

[bleaksqueak]

I would read an entire book about the magic system and study in Solivaga… i love intense worldbuilding. Do sigils retain/transmit energy or intent through a shape or letter system? Neither, and simply have to be unique and enchanted by the Magi making the sigil?? Or is that more the concept behind Loci… Maia can use sigils, but cannot make her own? Does the attunement of the caster affect the sigil?

None of these are specific questions, I just love the amount of detail in everything. (But if you want to answer anything… I would not stop you 👀

On the other hand if you’ve answered any of this before ignore me)

So I've been wanting to answer this one since the day you sent it, but between my backwards sleep schedule and being busy, I just hadn't had a moment to or the brain power to... yet, today I am here. Sigils absolutely retain the energy and intent spent to make them. You might notice in Chapter 2 when Prof. GB gifts Maia the imbued sigil, even when dormant, it's radiating *her* aetheric signature's color and energy. When activated, the Trapper's Thrall retains the aetheric signature of the magi who originally cast it. Maia remarks later that it's always ever been borrowed magic-- because, to her, especially, it has. She's never seen her own magic's signature, but she's seen, through these pre-cast imbues, the magic of others. Madame Zoe, the owner of the Apothecary (and knickknacks) shop that Maia works at, sells imbued sigils that she (and Maia's coworker, who we'll meet in another chapter) make. There's other shops around town where they can be purchased, including specialty shops that sell them for convenience, younger/elderly magi, and as general disability aids for those who need them. Their most common usage is simply that of convenience-- a sigil cast has already had that aether spent, stored, and replenished for the magi who made it, saving the need to expend further aether in the now for someone who needs to catch some pests or who wants to have their floors swept up and cleaned. Cooling down, heating up, a spare light, pain relief-- even party tricks, ready made sigils are great usage for convenience. As for how they're made-- The spells all have a precise shape language that builds their foundation. The trapper's thrall I did three stages for in chapter 2 -- the precise geometric perfection of the spell in its official state, I did Madame Zoe's handwritten version, and then I did Prof. Gwennebat's.

You can see them here... the slight differences between the two quickly hand written ones, and the perfected model. The spell in its entirety is written in the sigil itself, and the more complex the spell, the more dynamic the working parts of the geometric language that comprises it. Madame Zoe is older and never became an eidolon, but her work is enough to catch some Mice or Gallynappers (you know, crane flies!) like Maia said. Gwennebat is, however, an eidolic expert in her field, and her shorthand writ for this spell reflects a stronger sense of knowing exactly what must be and where. Each spell must maintain the exact necessity of the language to summon it, but new ones can be made (Granted, this isn't exactly an easy task, and a great deal of the most commonly used spells used by magi within the veil were all coined by a single, well documented scholar from the time before "the worlds were split", as Prof Rasputin put it.). It's a very pictographic writing system with individual sigils themselves feeling more akin to a writing system like kanji, but it's not advised to string a bunch of sigils together to form a cheeky sentence. That's how buildings get evacuated at worst, and angry neighbours at best. As for Maia, before I end this-- Maia can use any sigil so long as she has her vial. Her vial may not be attuned, and it may be magically weak as all nascent aether is, but the vial casing itself and the housed nascent aether still behaves as the catalysts of will. So long as Maia provides these things and enters the mental state required to connect to and summon from the pre-cast sigil, she doesn't need words of invocation, the spell will activate. She carries a fairly large stack of varied, commonly needed sigils with her at all times in her bag. Those imbued on slips of parchment are sadly single usage, so she needs to restock fairly often... luckily, Madame Zoe is fairly generous with her and gives them to her free in exchange for a little bit of extra work around the shop.

[luetta]

idk if people on tumblr know about this but a cybersecurity software called crowdstrike just did what is probably the single biggest fuck up in any sector in the past 10 years. it's monumentally bad. literally the most horror-inducing nightmare scenario for a tech company.

some info, crowdstrike is essentially an antivirus software for enterprises. which means normal laypeople cant really get it, they're for businesses and organisations and important stuff.

so, on a friday evening (it of course wasnt friday everywhere but it was friday evening in oceania which is where it first started causing damage due to europe and na being asleep), crowdstrike pushed out an update to their windows users that caused a bug.

before i get into what the bug is, know that friday evening is the worst possible time to do this because people are going home. the weekend is starting. offices dont have people in them. this is just one of many perfectly placed failures in the rube goldburg machine of crowdstrike. there's a reason friday is called 'dont push to live friday' or more to the point 'dont fuck it up friday'

so, at 3pm at friday, an update comes rolling into crowdstrike users which is automatically implemented. this update immediately causes the computer to blue screen of death. very very bad. but it's not simply a 'you need to restart' crash, because the computer then gets stuck into a boot loop.

this is the worst possible thing because, in a boot loop state, a computer is never really able to get to a point where it can do anything. like download a fix. so there is nothing crowdstrike can do to remedy this death update anymore. it is now left to the end users.

it was pretty quickly identified what the problem was. you had to boot it in safe mode, and a very small file needed to be deleted. or you could just rename crowdstrike to something else so windows never attempts to use it.

it's a fairly easy fix in the grand scheme of things, but the issue is that it is effecting enterprises. which can have a looooot of computers. in many different locations. so an IT person would need to manually fix hundreds of computers, sometimes in whole other cities and perhaps even other countries if theyre big enough.

another fuck up crowdstrike did was they did not stagger the update, so they could catch any mistakes before they wrecked havoc. (and also how how HOW do you not catch this before deploying it. this isn't a code oopsie this is a complete failure of quality ensurance that probably permeates the whole company to not realise their update was an instant kill). they rolled it out to everyone of their clients in the world at the same time.

and this seems pretty hilarious on the surface. i was havin a good chuckle as eftpos went down in the store i was working at, chaos was definitely ensuring lmao. im in aus, and banking was literally down nationwide.

but then you start hearing about the entire country's planes being grounded because the airport's computers are bricked. and hospitals having no computers anymore. emergency call centres crashing. and you realised that, wow. crowdstrike just killed people probably. this is literally the worst thing possible for a company like this to do.

crowdstrike was kinda on the come up too, they were starting to become a big name in the tech world as a new face. but that has definitely vanished now. to fuck up at this many places, is almost extremely impressive. its hard to even think of a comparable fuckup.

a friday evening simultaneous rollout boot loop is a phrase that haunts IT people in their darkest hours. it's the monster that drags people down into the swamp. it's the big bag in the horror movie. it's the end of the road. and for crowdstrike, that reaper of souls just knocked on their doorstep.

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

...

[oceantornadoo]

home invasion

neighbor!simon, gender-neutral reader, fluff, implied violence

--

there was someone in your room.

you had fallen asleep on your living room couch, soothed by the sounds of trashy reality tv show. however, some creeping sensation overcame you, cold hands tickling your spine, waking you up with a bucket of ice water. you lay absolutely still as you heard sounds of someone rummaging through your things. thankfully your apartment walls were thin, so you heard them closing drawers loudly, as if they didn't think you were home. you started running situations through your head, ones where you called the police and they came too late, your trespasser having heard the phone call. there was only one decision to make.

silently, like you were five again and playing hide and seek, you moved towards your door. thankfully your door didn't squeak as blood rushing was the only sound running through your head. you left the door slightly ajar as you sprinted down the hall to his door.

"simon!" you whisper yelled, knocking furiously but trying not to alert the intruder at the same time. tears were gathering in your eyes, ones of frustration of having your safe space broken into. finally, after what felt like an hour, the lock clicked and he opened the door.

simon was grumpy. he had just started to fall asleep, that elusive feeling he was always chasing these days, never quite catching it. he was about to tell you such until he saw your eyes glistening, hands gripping your blanket fiercely. "theresanintruderinmyroomhesinmy" you sputtered, absolutely distraught.

"slow down, lovie. wha' happened?" fuck, he wasn't supposed to call you that. he was supposed to keep his distance and not be one of those creeps you complained about. and now he had fucked it up and- "there's someone in my apartment. in my bedroom. going through my things. i knew the cops wouldn't come fast enough so i just thought-" he interrupted you, opening his door just wide enough to shove you through it. fast as a whip, he turned around, kissing your forehead through his mask and murmuring "lock it behind me." then he was gone, your vengeful grim reaper stalking down the hall to his next victim.

ten minutes later, the clock in the kitchen ticking slower than humanly possible, you spotted him closing the door of your apartment, shoulders bunched around his ears. you were pressed against the peephole and opened the door for him as he neared. "simon? what happened?" his eyes were black pits in his head, pupils blown wide by some intangible force. bloodlust. he reached behind you, triple checking the lock, before turning on the light. you gasped.

his knuckles were bloody, gray shirt disheveled, like someone tried to claw it. his mask was askew, shoved up as if someone tried to pull it off but was stopped before they got the chance. he pulled your forehead to his, souls touching in some intimate embrace. this was your neighbor, the one who always held the door for you and accepted your extra baked goods with quiet disagreement. the one who covered sharp edges of corners before you bumped into them, watched your door to make sure you got in okay after late nights out with friends. he breathed in your scent quietly, telling himself this was not a mission, this was you. he ran his thumbs under your jawline and down your neck, feeling your pulse to remind him you were alive. you, this bundle of life he came back to, week after week, deployment after deployment, the one reason he stayed in this shitty building when he could easily afford something better. "yer stayin' with me tonight." you nodded easily, soft as butter in his arms.

you blinked and you were in his bed, strong arms wrapped around you. he gripped you hard, like he thought the intruder might try to steal you straight out of his arms. in the darkness of his room, you slipped off his mask, laying it on his bed table. you kissed his forehead, a mirror of the one he gave you earlier, and snuggled into the crook of his neck. "thank you." you whispered into the silence of the night. you felt him nod against you, arms constricting tighter, legs tangled in the safety of his bed.

simon didn't sleep much. too many memories, sounds of gunfire and the glint of the meat hook ever present. he was required to see a shrink on base, but even that didn't help. turns out this whole time, all he needed was you.

--

[rainyrindou]

—NIGHT LIGHT ⋆.˚ ☾

hanma is a childish grumpy baby when he’s been woken up. 0.5k wc ﾉ fluff ﾉ a little suggestive.

cw: no pronouns used, hanma calls reader doll and baby, brief mentions of a previous blowjob & free use.

“doll…” his low grumble comes from beside you as he shakes your shoulder a bit.

you barely glance in his direction as you scroll on your phone. “yes, shuji?” 

“turn the damn light off.”

“huh? there aren’t any lights on.”

he lays there with his eyes still shut a few seconds before he cracks one open and points out the window with a childish grunt. 

you stifle a laugh, “…that’s a street lamp.”

“…huh? for what? why is it on?” he’s clearly half asleep, and a little incoherent. you know you’re safe to giggle as much as you want when he’s like this. 

“so people can see.”

he pouts, throwing an arm over his eyes, “ugh, it’s like, 3am, nobody needs to see anything right now.”

“actually shu, it’s only midnight. and, if i hadn’t sucked you comatose, I’m sure you would be one of the hooligans out and about at this hour.” 

“….close the curtain, doll.”

“no. it’s like a night light, and–

he scoffs, “what do ya need a night light for? dontcha trust me to protect you?”

he wants to bite back and tell you that he doesn’t need a night light, not because he isn’t a little afraid of the dark, but because he feels so safe next to you.

“–and it helps me wake up in the morning when the sun comes through,” you deadpan.

another thing he won’t tell you is how he doesn’t need the sun that streams in through the window every morning; the sight of your sleeping figure beside him is enough. 

but it’s midnight, apparently, and he’s not feeling the type of tired where he can be vulnerable tonight, so he keeps that to himself, even though he desperately wants to know if you feel the same way.

“excuses, excuses,” he tsks. he turns his head toward you and lifts his arm from his eyes, barely cracking them open, “if you hate me just say that.”

“shuji, my dearest. i had your cock down my throat 20 minutes ago.”

he full on glares at you, or at least he attempts to; his sleepy, half lidded eyes betray him. you don’t miss the way the corner of his lips twitched up for a moment, though.

in the dim lighting of your bedroom, he paws around in search of your arm, and grabs you tightly when he finds it, causing you to gasp and drop your phone. with a confused yelp, you’re suddenly manhandled on top of him as he buries his head in your neck, muttering a muffled, “relax, baby.”

you sigh, “shuji, you’re insatiable.”

you feel a deep chuckle resonate against your throat, “c’mon, you told me you like being used, yeah? so be my sleep mask for a lil while...” you roll your eyes at him for using your words against you, and at the way his voice trails off as if he’s already falling back asleep. you can’t help but giggle at your needy god of death who whines when you aren’t touching him for even five minutes.

your personal guard dog, the grim reaper of kabukicho— his world would fall apart without you. 

he’s never told you that, but you feel it through his actions; through the longing in his touch. 

in the morning before he leaves for work, he gives you a tighter hug than usual, and the sweetest, softest kiss. in bed when he grabs at your hands, no matter what position he’s tangled the two of you in, he gently brushes his palm against yours before he squeezes. and now, as his breaths even out and you slowly attempt to shift yourself off him, his arms tighten around your waist with an annoyed huff. 

he feels protected by…well, whatever it is about you; he doesn’t know. it’s less like the way he looms over any poor soul that dares to glance at you a second too long, and more like your soul is the solace that his needed all this time. your presence grounds him in a way he hasn’t experienced before; it warms up his heart and makes him soft. it’s the reason he can’t bear to let go of you in the night, and clings to you as long as he can before he goes out into a life that doesn’t treat him with nearly as much warmth.

despite the headache that he is sometimes, he makes you smile. so you settle in on top of him, because he’s given you no other option than to be his anchor in a world where he can only see the light in your presence. 

[sickeninglyshoujo]

a/n: i saw the renders (you know the ones) and became feral with need for dad!ghost, other cod dads coming soon, sorry to my friends for being forced to read me word vomit this in chat over four hours. ao3 link coming soon warnings: pregnancy talk word count: 1.8k

Simon doesn’t like when the baby wears the skulls but you do because it reminds you of him

When he grew up he equated the skull mask to terror, the baby only has positive thoughts about it and gets excited seeing it yelling out “daddy!” if she sees the motif in public, mortifying Simon and delighting you. Onlookers growing even more concerned when you coo back, “Yes, that is daddy!” pointing to the Halloween display of a grim reaper statue.

I can tell you that Simon is a master at baby rearing

Simon would absolutely carry the baby under his arm like a football once her neck is strong enough even if you don’t like it because it’s more comfortable like that

It’s second nature to him somehow

Even when you’re stressed about the baby and can’t get her to stop crying somehow Simon just comes over and says the one thing you haven’t tried because he can differentiate between her cries

You were afraid about introducing the baby to Riley, but Simon wasn’t. “They live in the same flipping house, he has t’ get used to her!”

“But not when she’s newborn! Let her get a little bigger first!”

“No better time than now! She’ll never be afraid of him then and he’ll protect her!”

“They call them malingators for a reason!”

“Riley is a well-trained retired soldier. He’s not going to hurt the baby.”

The first meeting had Simon holding the baby in his arms and stooping down to Riley’s level, Riley nosing at the baby’s sock-covered feet hanging from Simon’s arms, sniffing excitedly. You stood above Simon, wringing your hands together, ready to jump in between the two at a moment's notice.

“This is your baby sister, Riley,” Simon instructed the dog whose ears moved, listening to his master’s voice, “She’s your new assignment, boy.”

“Bloodthirsty, isn’ he?” Simon asked you with a grin as the dog yawned and stayed calmly seated, beginning to lick at the baby's booties.

“Shut it, Si.”

Riley is the baby’s shadow. If she so much as sniffles he’s darting across the house trying to find out what’s wrong. It’s like Simon’s watching over her even when on missions 

Simon hates that the dog is named Riley because he thinks it’s stupid and is constantly begging to rename the dog. You refuse because you like the constant reminder of your husband. It doesn't matter that he shares the family name.

When you first bring the baby home from the hospital Simon is in constant awe at how tiny she is. Like a little doll he keeps telling you to the point he sounds like a broken record

Simon constantly worried about baby being cold 2k24 and always has a blankie in the diaper bag or draped over the baby carrier.

After missions he would look for you first when he came home before stripping off the dirt and grime of missions and now it’s the baby. He used to think you were his reason to keep trying to save the world and now it’s her. It only stings a little but that is soothed when you see the awe in his face when she coos at him from her crib

It isn’t long before Simon is trying to get you to agree to try for another “Jus’ one more love,” he'll mutter into your neck after the baby is put down for the night and you two have retired to your bedroom only to be batted away weakly

“Oh no, Si! No more babies and no more sex! Not if you’re going to talk like that!”

“But yer such a good mum. We should have a houseful.”

Simon would petition you to quit your job because it’s bad enough the baby has to deal with him being gone on missions they shouldn’t have their mum gone too

“I make more ‘an enough for you to stay home with her!”

“The money isn’t the point, Si,” You coo at the baby on your lap, “I don’t need to be a housewife and I like working!”

You giggle whenever the other 141 men are over because they will carry the diaper bag slung over their shoulder and completely at odds with their uniforms.

It heats your cheeks to watch your burley husband in full military uniform when you greet him on base, bouncing your baby on his hips, playfully pulling her hands away when she gets too close to a switch or something she shouldn't touch, particularly when other women notice him too

It would swell your chest with pride when you and Si were out with the baby and he’d get longing looks from women when he was doing dadly things like pushing the stroller or rifling through the diaper bag for her bottle or burp cloth. 

“You have to have seen the way women look at you when you’re carrying the baby.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“You’re practically tormenting them, Si! And me too! You’re all big and tough! You’re in uniform or in a compression shirt and then you’re holding onto her in just your arm while she can’t even wrap a hand around one of your fingers!”

Simon doesn’t understand your point, “I’m tormenting you?”

Heat flushes your cheeks, “I like watching you be a dad to our daughter.”

The baby has essentially four dads as all of 141 takes care of the baby when they come to visit on leave

You worry about them spoiling her, “She’ll get too used to being held Si!”

“Then damn well let ‘er!”

“What about when they leave!”

“You think they’re leaving?! Soaps brought a bloody duffel!”

Because when you have the baby Captain Price, Soap, and Gaz are all going to visit. Moving into your cramped guest room for easily the first month after the baby’s born, Gaz and Soap fighting over who gets the futon and who has to share the bed with the Captain.

They need to see the baby!

They never thought Si would settle down but that was before you and your endless patience with the grumpy military man set in his ways.

You didn’t miss when Price clapped him on the shoulder after Simon showed off the baby for the first time, “You did well, Son.”

“Thank god she got the missus’ looks!” Soap crowed, “I was worried she’d get L.t.’s ugly mug!”

“I was hoping she would Johnny,” you peer down at the baby in Simon’s arms and trace a finger down her cheek, “She did get his eyes though. You know those were the first thing I noticed when we started talking, Si? How sad your eyes were.”

“Don’ have “sad eyes”.”

“I thought you did. And you were wearing that silly skull balaclava too, so I couldn’t very well fall in love with your chiseled jaw or the cute scar on your lip,” Soap and Gaz howled in laughter, missing the dirty looks from Ghost (You did too, eyes entirely on your daughter swaddled in a soft terry blanket in her father’s arms)

“Hey L.t. let me give you a few more scars for the missus to kiss!” Gaz ribbed

You never minded patching Simon up after missions. It gave you an excuse to ogle your husband in detail. Even before you were married, he’d tried to wave you off when you’d dab at the blood encrusted cuts and then flush when after taking care of the ones on his arms, much less when he stretched and took off his shirt for you to do the ones on his chest too. Thankfully he didn’t notice your brain shorting as you forgot how to breathe when you saw how heavily muscled and tattooed he was, culminating in an audible gasp as your eyes took in his happy trail and Adonis belt. 

“You ok?”

“Y-yeah just banged my foot on the tub.”

He’d later recount this to Soap who nearly banged his head on the wall at how dense Ghost was being

“An’ you wen’ home after that!”

“Yes Johnny, I had PT the next morning and had to ship out that night.”

He let out a string of curses, “The lass likes you and probably was hoping you’d stay the night wi’ her!”

“MacTavish,” Simon warned.

“She let you take off your clothes in her bathroom and then cleaned you up! Lasses don’t do that for cheeky cunts they don’ like!”

You miss him when he’s on missions of course, but it’s easier once you have Riley and then the baby. It’s like you have piece’s of him with you

Si is a beige mom but instead of beige it’s gray. You try and explain the importance of the bright colors in developing the baby’s eyesight but Si just mutters something about no baby of his is going to look like a muppet

Riley used to sleep at the foot of your bed but now he sleeps by the crib. You don’t know when he learned how to work door knobs but it happened somewhere between the third trimester and birth. Now you have to coax him into your room if you miss Si and want to cuddle Riley

You’ve given up on trying to keep Riley out of the nursery and instead just tut when you find dog hairs on the baby. 

Riley is the ever-patient soldier with the baby, letting her pull on his tail and ears, tugging on (and sometimes removing) his fur, all while happily wagging his tail at being used as a jungle gym

When the baby starts toddling and skins her knees, Si can’t help but scoop her up before the first tear leaves her eye “Si you’re spoiling her!” “She hurt herself, I can’ just let her cry” “She hadn't even cried yet!” “She was abou’ to”

Simon is an over attentive dad because he doesn’t want his baby to suffer the same way he did 

Si rolls his eyes whenever you  tell him not to throw the baby in the air because he’ll drop her but he knows his reflexes are superhuman and he’d catch her

SI doesn’t baby talk and will discuss the finer parts of gun mechanics and maintenance with your infant as she gums on a teether.

When she’s older, Si buys her a pellet gun for Christmas and hides it from you until unwrapped on Christmas morning

By the time it’s in her hands you know you’ve lost

He ignores your dirty glance that says “We’ll talk about this later”

As she grows up she starts talking about joining the SAS like her daddy and you’re filled with fear while Si encourages it. Starts taking her training with him much to your horror, first on short jogs around the neighborhood, then to the gym proper to teach her how to throw a punch. She quickly becomes the star of the base, with all the men calling her “Recruit”

“Nothing dangerous yet Si I mean it!”

“She asks for it!”

“She is a child and you are her father! You’re supposed to be the voice of reason!”

“The voice of reason says she might as well be trained right if she wants it!”

a/n: likes/reblogs/comments appreciated please talk to me about dad!ghost i cant contain myself

[froggibus]

Valentine's NSFW - Overwatch Men

Pairings: Baptiste, Cassidy, Genji, Hanzo, Ramattra & Reaper x fem! reader (reader uses she/her pronouns + has a pussy)

Genre: smut/NSFW

CW: cheesy Valentines things, aftercare, manhandling, bondage, role play, toys, shibari, praise, degradation, dirty talk, oral (giving & receiving) unprotected sex, p in v, cum stuffing, overstimulation, cervix fucking, teasing

i flopped so hard this Valentine’s Day but here’s some overwatch content 😭 im sorry my fellow lucio enjoyers i simply couldn’t do it i could not write him for valentines

—

Baptiste:

he’s a busy man, it’s a rare occasion that he has a day off, let alone two 

wants to make the most of his time with you 

takes his time to decorate your room, even changing the sheets to nice red ones and lighting some candles

for him it’s all about the ambience 

takes his time to seduce you, starting with kissing you, then moving down your neck and so on

takes his time with your chest, his expert hands turning you into a moaning mess 

when you’re finally so wet that you’re begging him just to touch you, he knows you’re ready

has you spread out on the bed, his head buried between your legs 

it’s been so long since he was able to eat you out, it’s like a feast to him 

doesn’t stop until you’ve came on his face at least twice, until his beard and chin are dripping with your juices 

he’s so gentle but so intentional with his touches 

teases your clit with his cock and laughs at the way you squirm and plead for him to put it in 

once he puts it in, it’s not coming out until he’s fully satisfied 

the man is insatiable, he’s drilling his cock into you like he’s trying to push it straight into your womb

it brushes your cervix and makes you wince, the pain only adding to the overwhelming pleasure you feel

loves cumming inside of you but saves it for special occasions like today

his aftercare is unmatched, the man has a basket of things to help soothe you after the fact 

he’ll massage your shoulders and talk you down

and always forces you to pee because god forbid you get a UTI (although he’d take extra good care of you then, too)

Cassidy:

wants to try absolutely anything

he’s always a kinky mf but Valentine’s is his excuse to dial it up to 11

buys you cute underwear that you can show off to him 

wants to roleplay 

once you get in bed with this man you’re not getting out all night 

he’ll have your hands cuffed behind your back while he watches you try to ride him 

just watching you struggle to take his cock without bracing yourself with his hands is enough to have him cumming

it’s just so cute how pathetic you are, dragging your walls up and down his thick cock and whining how it’s “too much”

gets tired of your whining and has you flipped in doggy, your head pressed into the mattress

this man is breeding you for hours

even after your pussy is aching and dripping with his cum, he’ll try to keep going 

switches between praise and degradation so fast he gives you whiplash

“so good f’me…takin’ my cock so well.”

spanks you if you get too quiet

“fuck, you’re sucha slut for me, aren’t ya?”

there will be bruises on your wrists from the handcuffs

when he finally lets you out of the bed, you can’t even walk on your own

so he runs you a hot bath with nice smelling salts, candles and lotions 

Genji:

kinky mf 

he’s probably been preparing for tonight for months 

has some of that aphrodisiac chocolate and definitely feeds it to you

so much foreplay 

he has you laying against his chest, legs spread out over his own, your pussy wide open for his fingers to dip into 

he loves playing with you and teasing you, listening to you whimper that’s it’s ’too much’ and you ‘can’t take it anymore’

your cute whines must make him want to bury his cock in you and pound you 

but tonight is about you and he wants to take his time 

definitely brought some toys with him, like a magic wand and a rabbit 

has the vibrator pressed against your clit while he fingers you

even after you cum a few times and whine about how you’re getting overstimulated, he still wants to fuck you until your brain is mush

it’s sweet relief when he finally puts the toys away and lays you down on the bed

you weakly spread your legs around his hips and give him access to your puffy pussy

feels so fucking good 

he gets so deep inside you every time, and he’s going slow enough that you can feel it every time his cockhead brushes your walls

whispers praises in your ear about how good you are, about how you just need to give him one more and he’ll be done 

“one more” turns into an extra hour 

by the end of the night, you’re completely fucked out and drooling, your pussy aching from how good he took care of you

helps you clean yourself up, planting kisses on your burning skin  

Hanzo:

SHIBARI

he’s been waiting so long for you to want to try it

you run to the bedroom when you get back from dinner 

Hanzo is so patient waiting outside until you finally yell come in 

you’ve stripped yourself to just your lingerie and you’re kneeling on the floor, holding silky red ropes in your hands 

he’s instantly hard just seeing you submit to him 

binds you up so nicely in the pretty little ropes, making sure you’re properly tied but keeping all your good places on display

manhandles you in front of him so he can prod at that pretty mouth with his cock

smears pre all of your lips and cheeks before pushing past your mouth and finally feeling your tongue on his length

you look so cute and helpless sitting beneath him and slobbering on his cock 

probably straight up carries you by the ropes on your back and tosses you into the bed 

you are doing it in every position tonight 

bent over, balls slapping your clit with every thrust 

on top of him, laying on his chest clawing desperately while he pounds you

against the wall, over the bed, on your knees, on his lap

he’s taking you any way he can

ends it in a mating press, undoing some of the ropes to offer you enough slack to fold your knees into your chest

leans over and coos about how cute you look with tears and cum smeared on your face

you’re stuffed with cum at the end of the night, laid out in the bed, face on his chest

Ramattra:

has no idea what Valentines is, and even after you explain doesn’t quite understand it

but if it’s important to you…

is teasing you the whole fucking day 

pinning you against the wall and rubbing your pussy until you’re dripping wet, pulling you into his lap when you walk by so you can feel the thrumming in his crotch plate 

he wants you soaked, prepped and ready for him at any time so that when he does decide to take you, he doesn’t have to waste any time

has you cockwarming him while he does work, an arm around your waist to hold you down on his massive length while his other taps away at a keyboard 

you’re squirming and writhing in his lap for more but his grip is like iron 

eventually he gives in to your incessant pleasing

“it’s St Valentines after all”

but don’t even think about trying to disobey him or try anything funny 

pretty much uses you like a flesh light the rest of the night 

the benefit of him being so strong is that he can manoeuvre you in anyway that he wants 

and given that he’s an omnic, he can go all night and never falter 

he’s brutal with his thrusts, pounding into you until your juices are spraying out and coating the plates of his thighs

“Look at how you’re gushing on me,” he teases, “look at how ruined your pussy is.”

probably fucks you until you’re on the verge of falling asleep 

after he’s done with you, when you’re laying and looking al cute and fucked out in his bed

he’ll just brush your hair away from your face. “Happy St Valentine’s, dear.”

Reaper:

he does not give a fuck about Valentine’s Day 

but if it gives him an excuse to take you in anyway he wants, he’s in

absolutely not what he has in mind when you’re binding him to your headboard with handcuffs 

he won’t admit it but he’s into it 

you spend over an hour just teasing him 

rubbing, licking, drooling on his cock, watching the way he shifts uncomfortably with every move 

it’s only after he calls out, “just fuck me or move on, please” that you listen to him 

Reyes never says please so you know he’s desperate 

of course you won’t even think about putting his cock inside of you until he's came in your mouth at least once

when you finally straddle his hips and sink down on his cock, Reaper is beyond impatient 

he’s straining against his handcuffs, telling you what a whore you are and how he can’t wait to get out of these and fuck you silly

you ride him painfully slow, scratching up his chest with your nails as you slide up and down his cock

eventually you get desperate and start bouncing even more, forcing his cock as deep as it can go

just as you’re about to cum, Reaper snaps the bedposts and frees his hands 

you’re in shock from the pure fucking strength it took and have no time to react before he’s flipping you on your back and taking you 

the muscles in his arms are strained as he props himself up above you, veins protruding 

just for teasing him, you’re not leaving the room until you’ve come at least three or four times 

or unless you beg for mercy (though Gabe is a wild card, and it’s a 50/50 if he’ll even let you go)

—

masterlist | overwatch masterlist

[wttcsms]

these eyes were made for lookin’ at you (only you) ; simon “ghost” riley.

pairing simon “ghost” riley x f!reader word count 5.6k synopsis simon riley didn’t ask to be a hero, but he finds himself wanting to be yours. content contains hints to human traff/icking (not explicit), breeding kink, belly bulge, size difference, pet names/terms of endearment (pretty girl, baby, love, darling, sweetheart), soft!ghost, obsessive!ghost, domesticity, mutual pining, praise kink, probably ooc!ghost but the man is absolutely whipped for you, clothed sex (his uniform is on), minor depictions of violence

He doesn’t quite consider himself a hero, you know.

He’s got a foul mouth, a sense of humor that borders between too dry or too dark, and so much blood on his hands that he’s surprised to see they’re not red when he pulls off his gloves and runs them under scalding hot water.

There will be no parades in his honor. No little boys running up to him on the streets, proclaiming that they want to be just like him. No statues to be sculpted to remember him by whenever he meets his inevitable end, six feet under. He probably won’t even be a memory after death.

And he’s come to terms with all of this, of course. It’s not like he cares — he didn’t sign up to do this shit for the glory or because he wanted to be considered a hero. He did it because someone out there had to be the person willing to do anything for the betterment of everyone.

Perhaps that makes him heroic in some sense; again, he doesn’t particularly care.

Until you.

Until one mission sends you into his direct orbit, knocking everything he’s ever known out of its place. It’s disorienting, confusing—

—exhilarating.

He doesn’t get scared anymore, but there’s something inherently frightening about wanting to share parts of yourself — of your very being, of your soul — to someone. He’s not quite able to label any of the emotions he feels for you the first time he sees you, but he feels enough to know that if he wants to save himself, he should put as much distance between the two of you as he possibly can.

(It turns out that this lieutenant doesn’t have as great of a sense of self-preservation as he proclaims.)

You cling to his arm, ignoring the way your palm digs and presses into the hard armor and tactical gear he sports. You think he might shake you off or forcefully pull you off of him, but he does neither. The soldier freezes, just for a second, and then he turns to face you.

If this is what the Grim Reaper looks like, perhaps death isn’t such an unfavorable ending. You can’t make out any physical features of your savior’s face, save for the pair of dark eyes staring right at you.

The skull mask does its job of securing his identity, but he should consider wearing goggles, you think. You’re not certain, but you think his eyes must be his most incriminating feature. You think if he gave you a proper minute to look at him, the image of his eyes would be ingrained in your memory. You’d be able to recognize him by them alone.

“Do you understand me?”

The gruff voice must be coming from him, if the subtle movements underneath his mask are any indication. He’s staring straight ahead now, watching as the rest of his team begins to usher the other girls who were stolen alongside you into large trucks. Maybe they’re tanks. You’re not quite sure.

“You must not then, yeah?” When he speaks, every word seems to be just the slightest bit rough around the edges. His accent is oddly nice; from the way he delivers his comments, though, you’re left wondering if he is, too.

He must be — nice, that is. A nice man would let you continue to grip his arm for support, even though you’re capable of standing on your own. A nice man would save you from the hell you’ve been subjected to for… Months? Has it been months? Shorter, maybe? Or longer? Time passes differently when all you want to do is die.

“I understand,” you finally answer him. You think your words must come out a little rough, too. The air in this area seems hard to breathe in, and you’re not sure when was the last time you even drank anything. You say it so quietly, you’re afraid that you’ll have to force yourself to speak up, but he nods.

“You’ll be safe now.”

Looking back, those might have just been words meant to comfort you, but you trust this masked man. You don’t know him (not yet), but the way he says it sounds like he means it.

(He means it.)

He goes by Ghost.

He doesn’t tell you why, and you don’t unnecessarily pry yourself into his business.

He doesn’t even tell you the name himself; you hear it from the mouths of the other officers, the other men who helped in rescuing you and the others.

The man who took you — the one in charge of shipping and selling the girls — won’t be giving you any more problems, now. He won’t hurt you again, isn’t even capable of touching you ever again. This is what Ghost reassures you with, and you nod, believing him.

After all, you witnessed him slice the asshole’s neck. You watched the blood spill out of his body. You were being ushered away at the time, but you still found the strength to turn around to watch him die.

You still haven’t found yourself able to detach yourself from him, and he hasn’t found the strength to shake you off just yet. Your fingers look dainty compared to the bulk of his arm, and the uniform he’s wearing only serves to add to his overall mass. You should want to put some distance between you and him; you know what men are like. You know it doesn’t take much for them to snap and change their demeanors in an instant. With the strength you’ve already witnessed and the sheer size of him, you know fighting him off wouldn’t even be realistic. But you still find yourself refusing to leave him alone, as if the evil he just destroyed will come back to life and hunt you down the very moment your savior leaves you.

It’s why you’re in a separate vehicle from the rest of the rescued girls. It’s just the two of you in the back, and the only noise you can hear is the loud huffs from the engine and the sound of tires speeding on rough terrain.

“When we return, there will be people who will come collect you and the others. They’ll clean you up and help you get back on your feet. You’ll be able to start a new life.”

A new life?

The thought excites you.

You don’t know what awaits you outside. When you were a little girl, you were still allowed to bask in the outdoors. The warmth of the sun, the feel of a soft breeze brushing against your skin — sometimes, when you were chained and in your cell, cowering in the dark, you wished that you hadn’t taken advantage of those little luxuries.

“In this life… I will feel the sun?” He hears the innocence in your voice, your question filled with longing and maybe even excitement. It was just past dusk when they rescued you; it’s now nighttime, and he feels himself wishing he had the power to bring the sun down from the sky and present it to you.

“In this life, you’ll be able to do anything you want.”

He’ll personally see to it if he has to.

You had fallen asleep by the time you reached your destination. With one mission successfully completed, Ghost finds himself with another almost immediately after, and with the peaceful expression on your face and the fact that this facility is one of the most secure buildings in the world, he leaves you—

—only to return back to the facility in a little over two weeks.

It’s not as if there’s someone waiting for him in the empty residence he calls home. Besides, it’s only natural — human, even — for him to be curious as to how you’re doing. While he trusts that you’re safe, he finds himself, in between lulls on missions, wondering how you’re adjusting.

(And in the rare moments where he finds himself fighting off exhaustion — the only telltale sign that he’s still flesh and blood and not the phantom his enemies think he is — he finds himself wondering if you’re thinking about him too.)

What did you see when you stared at him that day? He had killed a man — killed many men, actually — without mercy, without hesitation. He’s done it so many times throughout his life that wielding a weapon has become second nature to him.

Sometimes he even feels like he’s the weapon.

And again, he doesn’t care about whether or not he’s deemed a good person or a hero, but he doesn’t want to be a nightmare to you. He can still feel the ghost of your touch lingering on his left arm, the arm that you had clutched the day he rescued you. If not for the employees confirming your presence and guiding him to your room, he would be almost convinced that you’re a dream he thought up himself.

“Poor girl,” the woman leading way is telling him. “She’s been having the worst time out of all the others. I’m not surprised, hearing what they must have had to endure all that time, but the sweetheart can’t even sleep without us sedating her.”

“What?”

The low timbre of his voice makes the word sound more like a growl.

Seemingly shocked at his reaction, the woman almost pauses in her steps before continuing. “Yes, she’s been having nightmares. Thrashing wildly in her sleep, screaming the first few nights, even.” And then, almost as if she’s trying to make him feel better, she adds, “But she’s much better now. Save for a few sobs every now and then.”

He doesn’t know what to make of that. If it had been someone physically tormenting you, he would have no issue in getting rid of the source of your pain. Demons who only appear in nightmares, though — that’s something not even he can fight off for you.

When they make it to your door, the woman knocks gently, calling out your name softly, almost as if she does anything too harshly, you’ll break down.

“I brought someone here who wants to see you, hon. I’m going to come in now, okay?”

The woman eyes him almost warily as if she’s just now taking him in. He didn’t bother changing out of his usual uniform, telling the helicopter pilot that picked him up after his most recent mission to take him directly here instead. In his defense, he hadn’t even anticipated you still being here.

But you are.

He’s well aware that he probably doesn’t look the nicest, his mask serving its purpose and obscuring his whole entire face, making him entirely unreadable. If you’re as skittish as the woman claims you are, perhaps it’ll be for the best if he leaves now.

But it’s too late. She’s opening the door and never one to hesitate, he’s stepping in. The woman doesn’t follow; instead, she shuts the door, most likely ready to call for backup if anything were to happen to you.

You look at him, and then a second later, recognition gleams in your eyes.

Now that it’s not as dark, he’s able to take in every single feature of your face, from the color of your eyes down to the slope of your nose and the shape of your pretty lips. He commits your visage to memory.

“It’s you,” you breathe out, sitting up straighter on your bed. “The man who saved me.”

And if the near reverent way you greet him isn’t enough to have him reeling, the next words you say have his heart freefalling:

“You’re my hero.”

You speak to him so sweetly, in a tone so soft that the words you say wrap around him like a warm blanket. No one has ever said that to him. No one has ever spoken to him the way you do.

He swallows hard, and for the first time in his life, he’s unsure of what to do.

“Have you been alright?” He asks, and your expression falls almost immediately.

You answer him after a few seconds of silence.

“Yes.”

You little liar.

“I’m very comfortable here, but I’ve seen many of the others getting ready to travel elsewhere. The people here are kind, and they tell me they have many houses I can choose from. They’ll help me find work and…” Your voice trails off, and he watches the way your hands curl around the bedsheets. “I’ll be normal. Find a husband, make a family, forget all about this.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yeah.”

You’ll learn soon enough that he doesn’t like lying.

He moves quicker than someone his size should be able to; stealthy, too. You don’t catch his movements, but you blink, and suddenly he’s right in front of you, crouched down so he’s able to look you in the eyes.

You were right. You are able to recognize him by his eyes alone.

“You don’t have to lie to me, you know.” When he speaks, you can’t help but hang on to every word. You find yourself nodding. “You’ll answer me honestly then?”

You nod again, this time a bit quicker.

“Good girl.” You hear the approval in his deep tone of voice, and you almost wish you hadn’t. You didn’t know what it’s like to be fed such praise, and you’re stuck starving for it now. “How have you been?”

“Alright. I’m happy to be here, but I—” Your voice cracks, and so does something inside of him. You look down, suddenly more interested in your sock-covered feet rather than his eyes. “Everyone else is able to move on so quickly, or they have someone waiting for them. I have no one. No one is looking for me. No one is expecting me.”

The realization of your reality finally settles in for you with your confession. You were born into that fate; the other girls who used to occupy the cells next to you were stolen. By all means, you were assigned to die there. There isn’t a future for you because you’re certain the universe did not anticipate you ending up like this.

No one is expecting me.

He understands what that’s like. It’s the reason why he’s here, because for once in what feels like forever, he finally has someone he’d like to see after a mission.

“You could find someone out there.”

“What if I leave here, and no one wants me?” The words come out a bit wobbly, and you look at him with glossy eyes and wet lashes.

You’re even prettier than he remembers.

He swallows hard, trying to find the right words to say.

(Soap claims he has a bad habit of saying the most awful things at the worst time possible.)

“That won’t happen.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Because after meeting you for the first time, he — the man with no regard to his own personal well-being and the utmost self-control — finds himself longing to be in your presence. He had to see you again; can’t you already see how you’re taking root inside his very being?

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Will you come back then?” When you look at him like that, all wide-eyed with your pretty lips forming a subtle pout, he thinks he might do something stupid, like—

“Whenever you want me to.”

—make a promise he might not be able to keep.

He gives you a burner phone. It’s supposedly untraceable (he doesn’t let you know about the tiny personal tracker he attaches to it; don’t worry, he’s the only one able to access your locational information), and while he doesn’t give you any explicit instructions, the only number programmed into the contacts list is his.

(That’s fine with you. It’s not as if you have anyone else to talk to.)

You know that he must be a busy person. You wonder if he’s considered a savior to many other people like you. Then innocent thoughts like that spiral into something jealous. Does he normally visit the people he saves? Are there other girls who have been gifted a phone like this?

He doesn’t message you, and you’re too scared of bothering him to reach out.

Every night since he sent you this phone, you’ve laid in bed, thumbs hovering over the keypad, debating what to say if you ever get the courage to text him. Every night, you never hit send on a single draft, and you fall into an uneasy slumber usually after your tenth attempt at a text message.

Sleeping is the worst.

Your nightmares can’t reach you when you’re in the safety of the waking world, but the moment your eyes are closed, it’s like every dark memory you’ve suppressed comes out of the shadows and begins its long-awaited torment.

The feeling of the cuffs on your ankles digging into your flesh feels too raw and real to be a mere memory. The men walking by your cell, sometimes staring at you uncomfortably long, taunting you and calling you cruel names. They’re always so explicit about what they have planned for you, but your seller will never give you up. Not until he finds someone willing to pay the high price he has hanging over your head.

You’re an untouched, undamaged good is what he reminds you. You’ll make him so much money.

But then you feel the cold, clammy grip of his on your arm and his breath on your neck, and you scream and scream and scream.

There must be cameras in the room you’re in because after the first week of nightmares, the kind workers here stop rushing to your room. If you don’t quiet in a few minutes, a male nurse will come in with a syringe and a pitying look before injecting a sedative into your veins. Artificial sleep is the only uninterrupted rest you get these days.

You wake up with your throat raw from your yells, and your skin sweaty. It takes several minutes for your heartbeat to go back to its regular pace, yet the images of your most recent nightmare are still flashing in your mind. You grab the cell phone you keep tucked under your pillow. It must be because of your panicked state of mind, but you find yourself clicking his contact.

The dial tone grounds you into reality, but before you can truly come to your senses and hang up, he answers the call.

“Hello?” Hearing his voice calms you down even more so despite the slight crackle that comes with hearing him through the speakers of the phone.

“Ghost?” You’re whispering, even though you’re certain that the walls are thick enough for you to speak normally without bothering anyone. Besides, anyone with ears probably already suffered through your fit.

“[Name].”

You don’t remember telling him your name, but it makes sense for him to know it. After all, he’s the one who visited you several days ago.

The thought that he would have to make an effort to seek you out and learn more about you is far more comforting than you think it should be.

“S-sorry for bothering you. It’s probably late—”

“Are you alright?”

“Am I… Alright?”

“Yes.” After contemplating a bit, he adds, “And don’t try to lie to me, either.”

“Are you busy?”

He’s in a safe house ten minutes away from the facility; say the word, and he can get there in three.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“You didn’t answer mine.”

“No, I’m not busy. Now your turn: how are you feeling?”

“Scared.” It’s easier to admit things when you’re unable to see him. Staring at him makes you nervous because you think he’ll be able to read everything on your own face. Vulnerability is never easy.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Maybe it’s the exhaustion messing with your mind, but you think his voice might have just softened, just the slightest.

“Yeah.”

He’s silent, but you think you hear some slight movement on his end.

“Ghost?”

“Yes?”

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m going to visit you. Do you not want me to?”

You’re scared to answer, too frightened that your tired state will cause you to let the raw truth slip out.

You think you’re always going to want him.

He can only visit you when he’s in between missions.

(Unfortunately for you, breaks for him are a rarity.)

He comes back to you, sometimes a little bruised, sometimes a bit more broken than when he had left, but he always keeps his promise.

Whenever you want him to be with you, he’s there.

The nightmares gradually get better with time, but you always sleep the best when he’s with you. At first, he would just sit in a corner of your room, almost impossible to view unless you focus hard on him (if you didn’t know he was there, you probably never would have noticed him at all). He eventually began to sit closer to you, somewhere near the edge of your bed. On the rougher nights, you would find yourself reaching out for his hand.

When his presence alone can’t keep the nightmares at bay, and you wake up from another bad dream, he doesn’t force you to tell him what you see. Instead, he talks. Despite his rough voice, the sound of him telling you about the mundane aspects of his day is the most comforting thing in the world. It’s like your own personal lullaby.

He tells you about his life before this. You tell him about yours, too. His gloved hand brushes against your cheek as he tucks back a strand of your hair. You lay your own hand atop his, feeling the warmth of him even through the thick leather. You tell him about your nightmares, all the darker details that make you loathe your very being. He tells you his name.

You whisper it back to him.

Simon. Simon Riley.

You say it several times, sometimes slowly. Testing out how the syllables rest on the tip of your tongue.

He likes his name best when you’re the one saying it.

The facility starts to fill up with other saved victims from missions more recent than yours. You’re free to stay here as long as you like, but one day, Simon presses a key into the palm of your hands. You don’t need him to say anything; the imploring look in his eyes, your favorite feature in the whole world, ask the question for him.

Now the two of you share a bed. His toothbrush stands right next to yours, and the former empty residence that Simon used to spend his off-time avoiding is a home. He cares about what will happen to him because every time he leaves for a mission, you send him off with a soft see you soon!.

He knows that keeping his heart cold would ensure that he would go to great lengths to see to the success of his missions, but running towards death is such a silly thing. Why would he be okay with chasing after that when he knows he can return to his safehouse hidden in the woods and find you in the kitchen humming? If anything, he completes his missions even faster now. You told him that you’ll be expecting to see him soon, and he’s not one to disappoint you.

Simon Riley knows he’s got it bad. He can’t sleep well unless his sheets smell like you. He asks if he can bathe you just to run soap over the smooth skin of your body because he’s entirely obsessed with you, every scar and beauty mark. He knows it’s dangerous, but he keeps a Polaroid of you tucked safely away in one of his inner pockets in his uniform.

One morning, nearly a year since he rescued you, you tell him you love him.

He lets you take his mask off.

You’re smiling at him, eyes shining as you take in every minute detail. You can’t believe this is a face he would want to hide from the world. Selfishly, you’re a bit pleased with knowing you’re one of the few to see him like this, completely bare. To make the moment even better, he says it back.

He loves you.

“I know.” You tell him; it’s obvious. His mask is resting in your hands, after all.

Simon rushes home after every mission to see you, his first love, his only love. He loves coming back to you when you’re barefoot in the kitchen or washing your face in the bathroom, but he loves it the most when you guide him to your shared bedroom, the prolonged distance between the two of you making your longing for him all the more intense.

He loves you all the time, especially when you’re lying beneath him completely bare, with your hands (so much smaller compared to his own) eagerly touching every inch of him you can reach. He just got back; his uniform is partially off, all the weapons left hanging by the doorstep. He’s got nothing but the protective armor and the thick fabric on him, and with the way your body is practically calling for him, he doesn’t think you’ll give him enough time to strip himself of his clothes.

“Simon — missed you so much,” is what you whine out. He knows. You don’t have to whimper it out to him because your actions (and body’s reactions) leave nothing to assumption. You’re struggling to lift yourself up to pepper kisses all over his unmasked face, dainty hands tugging at his sleeves. Your cheeks are flushed, and you attempt to rut against him, trying to get some type of friction to satiate yourself.

You’re already so wet for him that he can feel it through his uniform.

“I know, baby. I’ve got you.” That’s your Simon. Always reassuring, always there when you need him. And right now, you need him so desperately that you’re soaking the bedsheets beneath you.

True to his word, you feel a gloved hand teasing your slick folds, smearing your arousal everywhere.

“Fuck.” He breathes out, admiring your glistening folds for just a second with a sort of sick fascination. He can spend hours with his head in between your thighs and your hands clutching at his hair. He won’t be leaving you so soon, though. He’ll have all the time he wants to bring you to the height of pleasure with just his tongue; tonight, he wants to give you exactly what you need.

The feeling of two of his thick fingers working in and out of your tiny hole has you moaning and writhing beneath him. You’re always beautiful in his eyes, but there’s something about you with wild hair and eyes shut from pleasure that makes you practically irresistible to him.

Everything about Simon is larger than life, and the feeling of being so small in comparison to his hulking figure should be frightening. But when he’s above you, his large fingers toying with your pussy in the way he knows you just love, you feel protected. Like he’s your shield from the harsh world outside. Inside your shared bedroom, only you two exist.

Your back arches, forcing his fingers to reach even deeper. The texture of his gloves only adds to your pleasure and in an attempt to prepare you for his cock, Simon adds another finger to stretch out your tight cunt.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?” His words come out through gritted teeth, as if it’s taking everything in him not to replace his fingers for his cock. His tolerance is hanging on by a mere thread, but he refuses to fuck you properly ‘til he’s certain you’re ready to take him. Only when your cum is coating the leather of his gloves will he know.

You nod, occasionally jerking your hips in tandem with his thrusts, chasing after your high. You’re beginning to feel hotter, your pussy becoming even wetter, and neither of you can make out the words you’re mewling out. Perhaps your whines are pleas for more, maybe even mercy.

You can’t last any longer, and as his fingers curl against your sensitive walls, you find yourself nearly screaming his name as you gush around his fingers. He grins at the result of his hard work, withdrawing his fingers just to hold them up to you. His gloved hand glistens in the moonlight, and you can only watch as he raises his fingers to his mouth before sucking your essence off of them, effectively cleaning it up.

He never breaks eye contact with you once.

“Should I try it straight from the source?” His grin is teasing, the gleam in his eyes nothing short of wicked.

You weakly shake your head, already too fucked out to properly respond.

“No? I’ve been starving for your taste all those weeks I was gone, love. You don’t want to be a sweet girl and let me have my fill?” You know he’s just teasing you, but you still find yourself upset at the prospect of displeasing him.

“Not yet.” You pout, spreading your legs for him. “I wanna feel your cock.”

His grin only grows wider.

“Looks like my perfect girl’s been starving too, huh?” He leans down to give you a kiss, and you can taste a hint of your arousal lingering on his tongue. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll give you everything you want and more.”

Everything about Simon is larger than life.

The first time he ever fucked you, you had cried from the stretch of his massive girth invading your previously untouched cunt. The sensation of being filled to the brim was a foreign one, but a feeling you’re certain only he could provide. No matter how many times he’s had you, it always feels like it’s your first time taking him.

He’s whispering words of reassurance as he guides himself into your leaking entrance. Despite him working you to your peak, three fingers doesn’t begin to compare to his dick, and you find yourself whimpering over his words of praise.

“You’re doing so well for me, love. Such a good girl, my good girl.” He kisses your forehead, forcing every inch of himself inside until the tip of his cock is kissing your cervix. The pleasure of being so full outweighs the pain of the stretch your cunt has to make to accommodate his sheer size.

You stare down at where the two of you are connected, taking a sharp breath as the unmistakable bulge in your belly serves as undeniable evidence of just how deep Simon is capable of reaching. It’s always a wonder on how your tiny pussy is always able to take him, and Simon merely chuckles as he notices where you’re staring.

Using the same hand he used to coax your first orgasm with, he gently guides your hand to rest on top of the bulge. He’s smiling as he tells you, “Keep your eyes right there, darling. I want you to watch me as I fuck you.”

His thrusts are always powerful, a true sign of his strength. You’re not even sure where all his stamina comes from because no matter how exhausting his missions may appear to be, he always finds the energy to fuck you well throughout the night.

Your body’s natural instinct is to tighten around him, and the pressure has him growling as he works harder to piston his cock in and out of you. The lewd squelching noises, the smacking of skin against skin — everything is just so downright pornographic.

Your free hand finds purchase on his clothed back, nails digging through the fabric as he continues to work to bring the two of you to an explosive finish.

“Fuck, I missed you so much, darling.” He hisses, relishing in the tightness of your cunt and how your body takes him so well every time. “I don’t ever want to leave you alone again.”

You whine out for him, needing him closer even though he’s already as close as he can get. With his unyielding, powerful thrusts and your heightened sensitivity, neither of you is going to last much longer. He looks down to admire the imprint of his cock in your belly. He loves you and finds every little thing about your body perfect, but he can imagine your belly expanding to make room for his child and your tits swelling with milk. Fuck.

“Want to put a baby in you, love. Will you let me? You’ll never be alone again, not when we make the perfect lil’ family.” He grunts, and you nod, overjoyed at the idea of him wanting something so intimate. A family. Your family. He’ll give you a baby.

“Yes!” You scream out, feeling the coil in your stomach about to snap, every thrust bringing you closer and closer to breaking. “Wanna have your baby, wanna be with you forever.” The words come out sounding like sobs as you feel the tension inside of you snap.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect. Going to fill this cunt with my cum, darling.” His thrusts are becoming more erratic as he gets closer to losing control. Both of his hands grip your hips, his hold on you tight as he releases into you with a deep grunt. His cum is thick and warm, filling you up so much to the point where it’s already leaking out despite him staying inside of you all in an attempt to make sure it takes.

Breathless, wild-eyed, red cheeks — the both of you are an absolute mess.

You take a shaky hand to run through his hair that’s damp with sweat, and he leans into your gentle touch. You stare at him with a reverence he feels he doesn’t deserve.

“My hero.”

[velovw]

How would OW characters love you?

(Ft. Reaper, Genji, Ramattra, Hanzo, Venture and Cassidy)

A/N: It's been quite a while, but I'm happy to share a little thing I've written.

Reaper

At first, Gabriel would refuse the idea of being in love. There was no way the thing he had become was deserving of love - nor did you deserve to be with anything like him. The confession would probably come from you, or the feelings you two have for each other would simply be locked away and forgotten with time. Unsure touches, hesitancy in communication would plague your relationship early on, leading to frustrating fights and time spent apart.

Gabriel had spent so long being Reaper, that he had forgotten how to treat another gently, softly. Years of being one of Talon’s obedient and ruthless weapon left him scarred, almost a husk of the man he one day was. Patience, lots of it, would be needed to build a healthy relationship with him. With time, he would slowly start to mimic the actions you did to him - learning from you on how to love and be loved - this could lead to Gabriel learning to love you just the way you want him to.

Not big on romantic gestures, and doesn’t like PDA. He has an underlying fear that if anyone were to find about his weak spot for you, it would mean harm your way.

Genji

A cupid 's arrow.

It would not take him long to recognize the emotions he was experiencing, as the excitement and exhilaration of a new love were familiar to him due to his youth. The anxiety and giddy feelings were difficult to overlook or ignore. He would not hesitate to express his feelings, as he was quick at noticing if someone reciprocated his affections based on their reactions to his affections. He was accustomed to this aspect of a relationship and would confidently touch and remain close to the person he was interested in whenever possible.

Wouldn’t be able to hide your relationship, almost always bringing you up in a conversation. Excitedly calling you his partner.

Due to his past, Genji would have an underlying anxiety about performing well as a partner. He was good at sweet talk, enough to make your heart flutter - but when it came down to serious conversations and fights, he would almost shut down. In the past, whenever these things happened, he would simply dump his past partners and move on - but he didn’t want to do that now. So he would be awkward, asking you what he could do to amend the wrongs and fix the situation. He would heavily depend on you to guide him in that way.

Ramattra

Love? How futile.

He had no time for such weak emotions, no time to spend worrying over your safety when you were a human - the kind he hated with his very being. No. Ramattra only spent his attention and utmost care towards the cause he believed in.

Or that's what he desperately wanted to believe.

Every word, every moment would be recorded through his optics and stored forever in his hard-drive. Ramattra’s touches sometimes felt… ghostly. As if he was afraid of breaking you. But he was always sure to impose his threatening aura around strangers.

But the amount of stress his system felt when he saw you in the middle of the battlefield, how he was reluctant to end your life right where you stood, proved it all to him that he was *wrong*. Ramattra would take what felt like a lifetime to confess, seeing you sick and injured pushed him to it - the reminder of your mortality severely affecting him. Would try to do everything at once one day, showcasing his innocent and lack of experience in *love*.

A silent reminder of your importance.

Hanzo

Throughout the most part of Hanzo's life, there were only two things he felt the most. The bitter regret and the pain of tomorrow. Losing everything came at a great cost and it shined clearly when you met Hanzo for the first time, when you tried to befriend him - the look in his eyes. Hanzo would avoid you emotionally once he feels… different. Part of him knows what he feels but another one denies it with all of his strength. Not for pride, simply because he's afraid of losing once again.

A wall to talk to. His indifference at the start would drive you crazy, driving you away until he finally realizes how much more empty he feels with your absence. Even so, does a small act of servitude by giving you your favorite food - a small attempt to see if you still care for him. Just enough so he can *try* and allow himself to feel the gentle feeling of love.

Small smiles your way, brushing your hand with his while passing by. All small but mean so, so much for Hanzo. There is no shyness, just gentleness, and no fear of showcasing such feelings in front of others.

Venture

Spending most of their life researching and excavating did really not leave any space for romance. Venture would be quick to accept the feeling, the rush of adrenaline and giddy feeling quickly taking over their mind as they realized they liked you. It would be obvious to anyone around them. The way their eyes would be searching for you in the room, quickly asking someone if they've seen you and when they do finally see you - the biggest smile they can muster.

Your name would be mentioned by them every chance they get.

A confession would take mere days, and if you weren't totally sure about them - they'd at least hope you'd let them take you out on dates so you can get to know each other better. Small trinkets of their affection would be given to you, crystals and rocks being the main source of it, secretly hoping you'd try and find the meaning of them.

Their only flaw is being overly excited about the feeling, sometimes overly romanticizing you and getting disappointed when you don't reach their standards.

Cassidy

Smooth.

Cassidy would recognize the blush that would dust his cheeks when you were around, how he seemed to want to impress and sweet talk you. That would be his way of gaining your favor slowly, calling you sweet nicknames and trying to charm you with his words. A small brush of his shoulders on yours, opening doors for you and tipping his hat when he passes by - all small acts that are meant to sweep you off of your feet.

A relationship would bloom slowly, as he would like to ride out the early fluttering feeling of love. Going through all the small showcases such as holding your hand, gifting you something meaningful before taking you out on a date and asking you two to finally be oficial. To everyone else around you, it was clear that Cassidy was courting you - and no one else dared to attempt anything. Whispers of his past holding them back on doing so.

Cassidy’s flaw would be being too warm or too cold. Either giving you hurtful but helpful advice, or comforting and unhelpful ones. It would solely depend on his mood, but you can always tell when he doesn't really wanna make decisions. Sometimes he just wants to exist, to let himself breath without any worries.

[cursedpiratestash]

omg i love your writinggg🫶🏽

how about talon hc’s with a reader who on one occasion dodged their kiss because they were busy doing something else? like cooking, doing paperwork, cleaning, <3

Talon x Reader

“I’m busy” Headcanons

a/n: I wanted each to have their own set up so this leans more towards scenarios i hope that's okay! Thank you for enjoying my work I appreciate it a lot!

Doomfist

It was a long day for him when he returned to his place beside you. With you in his company he’s hopeful that you could ease his mind from the disaster that was today

In a tired yet powerful stride he moves to hold you close by the small of your back and kiss you on your soft lips to greet you

When you swat him away he is taken aback for just a moment

Fortunately he immediately pinpoints as to why

As fiery as you were he was positive he hadn’t done anything to cause conflict with you in a while

It took one look to notice you were focused on a game on your phone

He only shook his head with a soft laugh through his nose or a half-heartedly snide remark before he patiently waits for you to either win or lose

Regardless of the outcome he pulls the phone away from you and guides your face to his

You’d forgive him for interrupting anyways

All in all probably the calmest about it and plans to get what he wants when you’re available rather than risking a fight by overplaying his dominant role

Reaper

Not necessarily being the forgiving-type, Reyes narrows his eyes at you when you dodge his affection on his way out

He notices that your movements were frantic as though you were looking for something. When he questions you on this you give him enough of an answer for him to help you

With a roll of his eyes he snatches whatever you were looking for in seconds and presents it to you

He almost scolds you for your forgetfulness as he does so

When you reach for it he is quick to swipe it from your grasp and peers down at you with an expectant look

With a roll of your eyes you grant his wish and give him a smooch before he relinquished the item to you

He milks the moment by pulling you closer to him 

His expression slightly softens for the kiss before he bids you farewell with a pet name and a small peck on your forehead

When it comes down to it he would hold it against you just because he isn’t that big on displays of affection in the first place

Gets over it rather quickly though

Moira

With one of her experiments showing great promise Moira begins to feel celebratory. The next time she sees you she greets you with a tender smile and a beckoning hand

However when you raise a hand at her in a “Just a minute” gesture her face melts into an unimpressed expression

She easily closes the distance between you to look over your shoulder

You’re doing some form of paperwork; perhaps filling some report from the latest mission or something

Whatever it was kind of kills the mood for her anyways

‘Just busy work’ she would think to herself before she strokes the side of your face and turns your head towards her with her index finger and thumb gently holding your chin

“Don’t keep me waiting long,” She would finish with a pet name before granting you a lingering kiss and leaving you to your work

By the time she’s gone you well have forgotten what you were even writing

Anyways she's pretty understanding, but it isn’t everyday that she wants to spend an intimate moment with you outside of your home so it's up to you to get in on it before the window closes

Sombra

Probably had just finished a rather difficult job as she plops down next to you on the couch you shared with her

Almost out of habit she leans over to wrap her arms around you to pull you towards her with your head on her chest to pepper kisses on your face

When you move away she is immediately confused and dejected on a smaller scale

You show her the cleaning supplies you brought out and mention that you were just about to get started

With a quick scan of the room she could tell it wouldn’t take very long

Despite this she gives you a bored look and pulls you back in anyways explaining that you could get started later and that she’ll even help out as well

But for now she really just wants to unwind with you and cuddle while you watch a movie

You knew this meant you two would probably take a nap instead but you allow it as it's usually a good excuse to give Sombra some much needed rest anyways

She isn’t the biggest fan of rejection and usually plans to get what she wants even if it means pulling on a heart string or two

She does it out of love of course

Mauga

It’s a calm day with nothing but the mundane scheduled ahead of you

After polishing Gunny and Cha-cha, Mauga leisurely makes his way down to the kitchen where you were preparing something sweet and light

He greedily sniffs the air and compliments your skill before leaning down towards you, lips first and eyes closed

When nothing happens he opens his eyes to see your back facing towards him as you offer him nothing more than a “thank you”

There you leave his beautiful lips pouting at nothing

His face turns into a mock hurt expression despite how you don’t notice him waiting behind you

“How about a little sugar my way?” He’d ask with a cheeky grin

If that doesn’t get your attention he would resort to smearing whatever confection you have onto your cheek to get you to stop working 

Honestly by then he usually steals a kiss so good it leaves your head spinning

Out of all the members he’s probably the most immature about it and will always find a way to get you to look at him

Will always charm his way through anything and everything

Widowmaker

On the rare occasion that she’s feeling unbearably affectionate is on a beautifully rainy day

She starts by waltzing up behind you as silent as a mouse then proceeding to wrap her arms around your waist, trailing one hand up your throat to push your face towards hers

When you don’t allow her to court you in her arms she scoffs as she is appalled by your rejection

You apologize profusely as she stands back with her arms crossed. What could have your attention so much so that you couldn’t pay her any mind

You explain that you desperately needed to add some finishing touches before she saw anything

“What are you blabbering about.” She raises a brow at you. When you show her the gift you’ve been preparing for her, her cold stare turns into something warmer

She rolls her eyes and accepts the gift before allowing a smile to grace her features. She hides it in your kiss as she pulls you towards her by the back of your neck

She will accept your apology this time, however next time she won’t be as merciful 

That aside she doesn’t take it too personally, but she does find it annoying unless you truly didn’t consent

So expect some empty threats until she gets her smooch

Sigma

After a long day of testing he floats into your room where he finds you laser focused on the tv screen

His shoulders relax at the sight of you despite how you hardly offer him a greeting as he enters

‘You always did love your shows,’ he chuckles to himself. With that he makes his way towards you to greet you with a proper kiss

Unfortunately he had gotten in the way of the screen with his rather tall frame causing you to quickly dodge to try to catch the ending of your show

Feeling a little embarrassed Sigma seats himself next to you and apologizes silently as to not cause anymore distraction

It doesn’t hit you until the end credits start to play that you had just been unbelievably rude. In your attempt to apologize Sigma raises a hand in defense stating that he didn’t mind one bit as he knew you didn’t mean it

He only chuckles as you snuggle up to him to try to make it up to him. Things only settle down once you give him a darling peck on the cheek

Literally the sweetest guy about it out of the whole team when he's of sound mind

Honestly finds it endearing when you’re deep in thought anyways

[iite-cool]

thinking about simon being like a cat. a mean ol' one all teeth and claws, scratching and hissing when you stretch a hand out to him. biting you because that's all he knows how to do - it's all he's ever done - and it's kept him alive.

that's what his whole life's been about - staying alive. surviving. maiming anything he sees before it can get to him first. so he doesn't know how to react when you don't bare your teeth at him but just smile and make him tea. he reacts like a stray cat does when it's offered warmth - he's confused. and his confusion gives way to anger and again he spits fire because what else is he to do? accept your kindness? bah! it's a hoax, he knows that. you'll tire of him and claw at his neck sooner or later so he'd rather not let you close enough to do so.

and when you don't give up, and you keep smiling that gorgeous, dazzling smile at him, he doesn't know what to do. no one's ever done this before - been all soft and sweet and only wanting to be allowed to scratch at his ears in reward. why were you doing this? why didn't you run away when you saw how he snarled at you? why do you look at him with those big, beautiful eyes like he's the only person in the world?

at a complete loss, he lets you pet him and oh that smile he'd let you tear his heart out if you would just keep smiling at him. "hey, simon!" god, he wants to drown in the sound of your lips wrapping around his name. you come close to him and his brain stops working, eyes wide and lost when you wrap your arms around him and pull him to you. warmth. is this what it feels like? he wants to live forever in the crux of your arms, creating a life for himself between them.

he couldn't stop purring if he tried, if he were a cat he'd spend the rest of his time on this earth, the earth that tried to bury and kill him and is now making amends by sending him you, running between your legs and swishing his tail around you. simon riley who's always had his head on a swivel, who's not gotten a full night's sleep in a decade lest he miss the chance to look his reaper in the eyes, now sleeps with his head on your lap, belly up and purring.

masterlist

please comment/reblog!! i have so many thoughts about this man that need to be talked about

[shortkingvince]

grim fluffus(important) withrrr ahmmm smut,,,

Hello there!! Thank you for the request! Sorry it took so long to post this, I got possessed by Grim brainrot and went a little overboard. Hope you don't mind!

Irresistible

Warnings: Smut (no penetration), handjobs, whimpering men, very brief dacryphilia? (It's just tears in his eyes from the pleasure, I dare not hurt this babygirl....yet. /j), ungodly amounts of fluff, Grim being the victim of MC/Reader being a little shit (/j /aff), spoilers for Grim's real name, takes place after ending 3

Minors DNI

Gn reader

A comfortable silence spread through the air of your apartment, which you were now sharing with your lovely little reaper. The reaper in question had ended up all but dragging you into the bathroom to do his skincare routine with him, saying that his is probably more superior to yours, which definitely wasn't just an excuse to spend more time with you. Totally not. He isn't clingy, you're clingy. Totally. It couldn't have been because he was waiting at home all day for you to come back from work.

He made you follow his skincare routine (with your own products, of course), it was honestly impressive how he was able to do this every single day without fail. Though, despite the calm atmosphere it was a bit clear he was stressed, likely having overworked himself around the house due to not being used to having the option to relax. He had a tendency to be a workaholic, even before he gave up his whole job to be with you. This struck an idea in you, now you just had to convince him.

You had already been pretty close to him during the routine, but you had carefully been moving closer to him, not that you had to move much. Once you were close enough you gently put your hand on his, not wanting to suddenly overwhelm him with touch since he wasn't used to it just yet, watching his reaction carefully.

As you had suspected, his face had a bit of shock on it along with confusion, his cheeks turning a shade of pink as he questioned you.

“Why are you holding my hand? How are you supposed to do this without both of your hands? Stupid mortal.” He said, averting his gaze as he flushed a bit at your own. His blush only worsened as both of your hands lifted up to cup his face lovingly, tilting his head to look back at you.

“Am I not allowed to take a small break to admire my pretty little reaper?” you teased him, watching his cocky smile take place on his face. “I know I'm irresistible, but I'm sure you can wait until we're done,” he responded in his usual confident way despite all the pink he had on his face from the gentle touch. He couldn't help but slightly relax into it, the warmth contrasting against his cool skin like a calming spell.

Despite his words, he made no move to pull away. He couldn't help but crave your touch, even more so whenever you were away at work. In all honesty, he didn't want you to pull away, in fact, a part of his head was practically screaming at you to just kiss him already. It was something that frustrated him about you but in the best way possible, the way he could never tell just when or if you were going to kiss him, and sometimes he felt he'd have to just grab you by your clothes and pull you into it himself.

He couldn't help but feel a bit of tension from your gaze, not knowing what you were about to do or say. He waited with a bated breath, eyes widening slightly as your lips got closer….and closer…..and…you suddenly pulled away, a smirk and mischievous glint in your eyes as you started to do the rest of the routine, leaving Casper to practically gape at the audacity.

He huffed, crossing his arms. “Dumbass mortal, what in the nine hells was that for?”

“What was what for?”

“The…you know!”

“I don't, actually.”

Casper knew you were lying due to the smirk on your face. He grumbled as he averted your gaze once again, his face deeply reddening. “You…why did you pull away? I thought you were going to kiss me.”

“Did you want me to kiss you?” you replied to him, your teasing tone getting on his nerves while also making him far more flustered than before. He hated how you had him wrapped around your finger so easily.

“Obviously.” He had an exasperated expression, clearly having expected you to actually kiss him instead of leave him hanging. You laughed, making him a little more frustrated due to the embarrassment. As he attempted to open his mouth to speak, you suddenly got close again and put one hand on his waist, the other cupping his cheek as you did earlier as you pulled him in for a proper kiss. Anything he was going to say died on his tongue as he quickly relaxed into the kiss and his frustrations melted away.

As you pulled back his body instinctively tried to chase your lips, wanting nothing more than to be enveloped in everything you could give, wanting to give into his greediness for you. He was so in love with you that it hurt, but felt so good all at the same time. His heart fluttered in his chest as if he were a mortal human with a lovesick crush.

At first, Casper thought any type of relationship was a waste of time, that a reaper didn't have time to be close to anyone. He never understood why mortals spent their time caring about others. That was before he fell for you, and when he fell, he fell hard. How a mere—no, not mere, there was nothing mere about you. A mortal like you being capable of stealing his heart with no chance of getting it back made his head reel, but in all the right ways.

He was soon snapped back to reality as your voice rang in his ears, lifting up the lovely veil of his thoughts he had gotten lost in.

“Grimmy, you good?” You had a shit-eating grin on your face as you used the embarrassing nickname. “Earth to Grim!”

He narrowed his eyes as his expression became frustrated again, sighing. “I told you that name is embarrassing to hear you say in person. You're doing this on purpose.”

“Maybe,” you said with a breathy laugh that made Casper's heart speed up, you were irresistible. So irresistible it frustrated him that you practically bullied him all the time. Maybe bullying is an exaggeration, but he doesn't think so, he thinks it perfectly describes just what a little menace you were towards him.

“You know, Cas, I have an idea. It could help you relax,” you suddenly suggested. Casper arched a brow, awaiting your proposal. “Continue.” He put his hand on his cheek as he waited for you to speak.

“So…you know how I mentioned back when we were doing video calls that I could help wash your entire body? We could take a bath together. After all, it would save water.” You winked at the end of the sentence, practically making Casper go wide-eyed at the thought.

“And here I thought you had forgotten that conversation. My mistake. I completely underestimated just how much you want to see me naked instead of just imagining it.” He smirked, his confidence seeping through once again.

“Maybe I do.”

“...Well I didn't expect you to just admit it.”

“Besides, I can tell you've been overworking yourself around the house today. It could help you relax,” you added, chuckling at the fact he got a little surprised at you practically admitting to imagining him naked.

“And just how is that supposed to make me relax? It seems like it would do the exact opposite.”

“And why would it do the exact opposite?”

“You know why.”

“No, no, please inform me, little reaper”

His face went red, he was so sick of your teasing. So sick of it, yet craved it at the same time. “Well, I….uh…”

Your gaze softened at his hesitance, cupping your hand to his cheek again as you spoke. “We don't have to if you don't want to. I'd never do anything you aren't comfortable with, it won't upset me.”

He relaxed at your words, knowing you were telling the truth. “I'm not uncomfortable with it, I'm just not very experienced with this kind of thing.”

“Wow, I never knew.”

“Really?”

“No, it was sarcasm.”

“...”

“Right, sorry. You're just so fun to tease.”

“I…might hate you.”

You laughed, knowing that he couldn't lie and therefore was having to resort to wording it with unsure language. It was just another thing you loved about him. “So, is that a yes to the bath, or?” You questioned, just to completely make sure. He nodded in response, albeit still a bit flustered at the thought of something so intimate, wanting to go through with it.

A bit of time passed as the water was finally at a temperature that you both wouldn't complain about. You looked over at Casper, a grin on your face. “Are you gonna bathe with your clothes on?” You teased him, only getting a scoff in response as he slowly started to take his clothes off. Of course, he took notice that you weren't exactly undressing at the same time as him.

“...I can't be the only one getting undressed if we're bathing together. I am absolutely not bathing with you if you try to bathe in your clothes.”

“Aww, you wanna see me naked that bad?”

“Huh?! You're the one who suggested the bath in the first place! Gods, you're going to make me lose my mind at this rate.”

“You didn't deny it.”

“Just take your clothes and get in the damn bath.” He responded quickly, getting in the bath once everything was off before you had time to tease him further.

The bath wasn't too spacious, but it was enough to fit both of you if you positioned it right. That's how you now had a red-faced Casper, his back against your chest as he rested the back of his head on your shoulder. It didn't take him long to relax despite his nerves from before, the warmth of the water and your body against him was soothing and made his head feel fuzzy along with his heart.

You washed his body gently, taking in the content sigh he let out from your touch. He unconsciously leaned backwards into your chest, wanting to be even closer to you, as if that were even possible.

Casper wasn't used to being touched, this was just a known fact, but… despite the unfamiliarity of it, he felt…safe. Safe with you, safe in your arms. It was addicting to him, he had never felt like this with anyone before, but then you ended up turning that all upside down. Or maybe…you turned it upright, allowing him to finally be able to see from a more comfortable perspective. Whichever one it was, he loved it. He needed more of it, more of you.

Of course, with how Casper was, he had to open his mouth to say something despite all the fuzziness. “We're taking a shower after this by the way, baths aren't exactly for actually getting clean.”

“Ooh, we? How bold, Grimmy.”

“We are literally pressed up against each other naked right now. A shower is far less ‘bold’. Besides, you're in the bath with me right now and unless you wish to sleep on the floor I suggest you wash the bath residue off of yourself afterwards.” He looked at you once he finished saying that, a satisfied glint in his eye.

Of course, that glint in his eye turned to surprise as you grabbed him by his chin and made him look at you, just as you did earlier, but this time there was a bit more of a gentle sternness to it that made his heart leap in his chest. “Oh? Is that so?” You questioned, amused by the way his breath sped up when you grabbed him. He couldn't get himself to tear his eyes away from your gaze, the way you were looking down at him made him squirm a bit.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” You teased, relishing in just how easy it was to make him speechless. “Just shut up and kiss me again already, you fool,” he said suddenly, frustration clear in his voice once again as he suppressed a whine from escaping his throat. There was no way he was about to whine and beg for you to kiss him.

It felt like his breath was stolen from him when you finally kissed him, his mind blanking again as all he could think about were your lips against his, your hands still roaming over his body as you washed him. It felt like his skin was on fire from how hot everything felt, the water, your skin, his own blood, it felt like too much and not enough all at the same time.

Just when he thought that would be it, he suddenly felt your tongue prodding at the entrance of his mouth, silently asking him for permission. He opened his mouth to give you access, breathy gasps leaving him as he felt your tongue dance against his. His mind raced, unable to think about anything other than your tongue until he felt your hands wander up to his chest.

Casper couldn't help the muffled noise he made as he felt your hands, his chest feeling like sparks were being set off as you ran your soaped hands against the entirety of his chest. He felt embarrassed by that noise alone, but the noise that escaped his mouth once you squeezed his chest made him rethink all of his life choices. He had whined, right into your mouth, and not even quietly.

He felt his heart drop when you pulled away, desperately wanting to chase your lips. A part of him was afraid you didn't like it, until he saw the breathless look on your face. Oh, right. Mortals need air. Plus, your expression told him all he needed to know, it practically proved to him that you weren't suddenly disgusted with him, as if that were even possible. He knows any noise that escapes his mouth is like a gift from the heavens, he just got a bit worried for a moment.

Despite the pleased expression on your face from the desperate whine he made before, there was still a gentle and caring side to it. “Is this okay?” You checked in with him, wanting to make sure he gave verbal consent to all of this, along with making sure he was comfortable. He nodded fervently, his gaze going half-lidded. “Yes, it is. Just do that again, fuck.”

You continued to tease and squeeze at his chest, leaving a trail of kisses around his jaw. His breathing only got faster and more desperate, the poor man sensitive to every little touch you did. You almost felt bad for him. Almost. Maybe you could explore this sensitivity of his later when you weren't in such a small space.

Eventually, you started to trail your hand down, watching Casper’s face carefully for any signs of discomfort. You ran your hand slowly, all the way down to his thigh. His breath hitched as he felt your hand squeeze his thigh, suddenly extremely aware of just how close your hand was to his dick. He hadn't even paid enough attention before to realize just how hard he was, the realization heavily embarrassed him, but he wanted you to keep going.

His thighs trembled, causing you to glance at him again in case he was uncomfortable. The desperation on his face told you all you needed to know. Gods, he was gorgeous, he was irresistible. You let your hand wander to his inner thigh, your hand dangerously close to where he wanted you most. Yet, despite the desperation being clear, you still wanted to make sure one last time that this is what he wanted.

“Is it okay if I–” “Nine Hells, Sunshine, just touch me already before I leave the damn ba–holy shit…” Your touch interrupted what he was about to say, the feeling of your hand finally on his cock making him completely forget what he was about to say. He arched his back into your chest in surprise, the cutest gasp leaving his mouth at the sudden stimulation. He had just expected you to continue teasing him, he didn't think you'd automatically start stroking him the moment he told you to touch him.

“Relax,” you held him gently with your other hand, still gently squeezing his chest as you pulled him even closer to you, if that was even possible. “I've got you, just relax.” At that, Casper all but fell into you, his hand making a pathetic attempt to cover his sounds. The hand that was on Casper’s chest went up to his wrist, gently pulling it away from his mouth. “I want to hear you, love, please don't hide such pretty sounds from me,” you told him, a shiver going up his spine at your words.

You teased the tip of his cock, the action rewarding you with a choked moan from the white haired reaper. He felt like he was gonna go insane from your touch, his hands trying to find something to hold onto. Noticing this, you gently held his hand instead of going back to teasing his chest, his hand giving yours an appreciative squeeze. “Fuck, fuckfuckfuck, Sunshine, please, please…” he begged, not even knowing what he was begging for, he just didn't want your hands to leave him.

“I've barely even touched you and you're already this desperate?” At your words, he whines, shooting you a slight glare before quickly getting caught off guard by your hand tightening momentarily against his cock. “It's not a bad thing, quite the opposite, in fact. Just relax, my little reaper,” you whispered in his ear, a shiver going down his spine.

All of his senses were going crazy, unable to think about anything but you. He struggled to not buck his hips so he wouldn't get the floor wet, it was becoming increasingly difficult the more you touched him. “A-ah, just…just like that…Sunshine…” his soft moans were like music to your ears, his voice was always so beautiful.

You sped up your hand a bit, letting out a small laugh as he yelped from the sudden change, his back arching into your chest again. “Don't…haah, don't laugh…while your hand is on my–ah…uhnn…l-let me get my words out, dammit…Nine Hells, your hand…a thousand curses upon you…I– ah…” He was just barely getting the words out, struggling to keep his mind on track enough to form a full sentence. His cock twitched in your hand, a whimper leaving his mouth as your thumb circled the tip before going back to stroking and squeezing his shaft.

He held onto your hand tighter, eyes closing tightly as he failed to suppress all the moans flying out of his mouth. His eyes began to form tears from how sensitive he was, but when you slowed down to check on him his eyes shot right back open. “Don't you dare stop, don't you–ahn…don't you dare…please…please, just go faster already!” His hips finally bucked into your hand before you could even pick up the speed, his mind so lost in how close he was that he couldn't care less about the water hitting the floor…that would be a problem to clean up later. For now, you focused on Casper.

His breath was rapid as you stroked him faster, his eyes fluttering closed once again as he leaned into you, both from the pleasure and for the comfort of feeling you so close to him. “Ah, fuck…fuck, Sunshine, I'm so close, I'm so–Nine Hells, I can’t–fuck–I can't much longer–” His voice was strained from how close he was, his legs threatening to close from the overwhelming amount of pleasure. He practically yelped when you momentarily stopped holding his hand to hike one of his legs over the side of the tub, increasing the speed and pressure of your strokes as your free hand held his hand once more.

By this point his moans had increased further in volume, you wouldn't be surprised if you got a noise complaint later. You didn't mind though, not when you were busy paying attention to the way your reaper shuddered at your very touch, the way he reacted to each stroke. You deeply kissed him, feeling him immediately return it wildly, as if he had craved it the entire time.

He whimpered into your mouth, the way he was so close made him shake. When you pulled away a whine escaped his throat, his face full of desperation. The way you looked at him made his heart flutter, your gaze was full of both love and lust, he could see how you enjoyed watching him lose himself to the pleasure, and he couldn't get enough of it.

“S-so close…I don't think– I don't think I can hold on much longer, Sunshine, I–” his sentence was cut off by a moan escaping his lips as you gently bit his neck. “You don't have to, my little reaper. You can cum anytime you like, so go ahead,” you said, whispering in his ear. At that, his entire body gave a shudder as he moaned once more, eyes rolling back as he got permission. His orgasm hit him hard, practically gripping onto what he could of you for dear life. You continued to stroke him through his orgasm until it was over, holding him close.

He laid there against you for a moment, catching his breath. He was exhausted, his eyes fighting to stay open. “I'm guessing we need to save the shower for later?” you asked, only slightly joking since you felt he couldn't really stand properly right now due to his tiredness.

“...I suppose it can wait.”

“You up for snuggling in the bed together?”

“Obviously.”

“Alright, I'll help get you to the bed.”

“Wait.”

“Huh?” Your head tilted in confusion as Casper opens his eyes. “I haven't returned the favor…” he said with a bit of concern, not wanting to leave you unsatisfied despite how tired he was. He was shocked when you suddenly started to lightly laugh, confusion evident across his features. “Casper, there's no need for that. You're tired, you need to rest. Besides, pleasuring you was more than enough to satisfy me, you don't have to worry. Let's get to bed, okay?”

“...Okay. If you say so. I'll make it up to you after I rest, though, even if you say that.”

Casper was a stubborn reaper. You knew you wouldn't be able to convince him that he doesn't have to ‘return any favors’, so as long as he rests before trying anything it'll be fine. You dried both you and him off as you both got into comfortable clothes, helping him get to the bed.

Once the two of you were on the bed, you wrapped your arms around Casper, threading your fingers through his hair. He was more relaxed than usual, practically melting into your touch as he snuggled into your chest. It wasn't long before he fell asleep, comfortable and safe in your arms, and there was no place he'd rather be.

[crusty-chronicles]

Revelations

Synopsis: It's no secret Kurama's soft on you. But when his demon form finally sees the light after hundreds of years, the fact only further cements itself.

It's surreal to think just a few weeks ago you were an ordinary high school student. A few weeks ago you had been completely oblivious to your best friend’s secret life. A few weeks ago, he'd been walking you home like he'd always done.

Talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Visiting his mother in the hospital before you took off to your job at some ramen place to earn a few extra bucks. A simple life it was.

Uneventful but peaceful.

Now here you were in some stuffy hotel, cheering on said best friend as he fought in a tournament. A demon tournament, if you may add. Where death was always a possibility and he and his friends were constantly fighting for their lives. One of which was the boyfriend of your boss’s daughter. And thank goodness she was or else you probably never would have known what was going on with Shuichi.

You never would have had a clue as to why he was suddenly absent from your life. Where he suddenly vanished to when the day before, he'd talked about having a ‘study date.’ How, now that his mother was better, it'd be nice to have a proper dinner between the three of you. Talks of the future, like you'd wake up and he'd be right there.

Turns out it was all a lie.

That first day you'd checked everywhere for him. It wasn't until you went to work that you met up with Keiko. Who was also suspicious of her boyfriend’s absence. The two men in question had seemingly vanished over night. And in your search for answers, you'd come across the sister of another guy who went missing.

Three in one day was no coincidence.

The common denominator? A blue haired woman who was apparently a grim reaper. A few threats from Shizuru had her spilling everything. How Shuichi, sweet dorky Shuichi, was a demon. And a prolific one at that. How all three of the boys, plus another demon, were forced to fight in this tournament. Or else they'd die along with everyone they cared about.

It made sense why they'd all left in the middle of night without a word. Why he left you without saying anything. You understood the circumstances, and you didn't hold it against him. You couldn't hold that against him. But… But you two told each other everything. Or at least you thought you did.

Which leads you to where you are now. Sitting anxiously across from Kurama the night before the semi finals. He'd already had one close call with death. You didn't think you could take it if he had another.

Kurama didn't like you being here as it was. Going as far as to scold you after his first match for following him. Seeing you cry after his fight with Touya didn't help your case either. You figured his concern was purely out of obligation. Not wanting to be responsible if you somehow got hurt.

Oblivious to the warm gazes directed at you when you weren't looking. The way he searched for you in the stands before every match. How he always offered you his hand when you'd go out. You were probably the only person he let get close enough to tend to his wounds.

It wasn't like he ever hid his soft spot for you. If anyone took the time to analyze his actions, it was easy to tell he cared quite a lot about you. More than a friend should.

“You're awfully quiet.” He spoke, snapping you from your thoughts.

“I'm just…” You didn't know how exactly to explain what you were feeling. To put your overwhelmed senses into words.

Truth was you were terrified. Terrified for Shuichi and terrified for his friends. You were terrified of waking up tomorrow and him not coming back to you.

“Worried.” you settled on.

He gave a thoughtful hum before scooting closer to you. You could feel the warmth radiating off of his skin. The sweet smell of roses accompanying it. Your relationship with the redhead had always been touchy. Never shying away from affection towards one another. So you hardly minded when he moved to cup your cheek. Guiding your gaze to meet his.

“We'll win. Just one more match until we're in the finals.”

So sure, he sounded so sure that you couldn't help but believe him. Emerald eyes filled with determination. You used to joke that he was hypnotizing you with them. So pretty that you couldn't focus on anything else except him. The theory seemed more plausible now that you knew he wasn't exactly human.

“And then we can go home,” he promised.

But you still had your doubts.

“Yeah? Yusuke and the ‘masked fighter’ still aren't back. And the enemies just keep getting stronger.”

The hurdles just keep getting bigger, and you didn't think the four of them could keep up anymore. Too much had been thrown at them.

“Can you really win like this?”

You could see the conflict brewing behind his eyes. Try as he might, Kurama could never hide his emotions from you. You knew the answer before he said it.

“We have to.” Careful, always so careful with his choice of words. Not promising you a for sure victory, but reaffirming what you already knew. You knew what he wanted to say…But you also knew he couldn't admit it. Not to you and not to himself.

The real answer- He doesn’t know.

“Tomorrow's a big day, let's get some rest.”

A sign the conversation had drawn to a close. You weren't in the mood to push anyways. So you followed him to his room. The both of you slipping into the same bed, with Shuichi's arms wrapping tightly around you. Most likely the last time he'd ever get to hold you.

—-----------------------------

Tomorrow came far too soon. There was still no sign of Yusuke and the masked fighter, meaning the team would be at a complete disadvantage. If you had any semblance of martial arts training, you would have volunteered to take one of their places. Though truthfully you knew you wouldn't have been able to put up much of a fight.

You slipped into your own room to get ready, mentally preparing yourself for the day. Surprisingly, there was no one in the lobby waiting. You couldn't help but wonder where the girls were. Usually all of you went to the arena together. For safety purposes, of course. Perhaps they'd already made their way there? They didn't seem like the type to get up early, but maybe just this once they'd made the effort.

Apparently you were dead wrong.

You'd searched everywhere in the stands, testing your luck and even asking a few demons if they'd seen them. No luck. You were completely on your own. It didn't help that this new stadium was 10 times bigger than the old one. No one would even notice if something happened to you here.

You really only had two two options before the match started. You could stay here, surrounded by bloodthirsty demons who were starting to eye you with drool. Or you could go down to where Shuichi and his friends were, right in front of all the action and potentially get hurt.

It was a no brainer what you’d choose. Besides, he'd never let you get hurt on his watch. And you trusted the other two with your safety when it would be his turn to fight. You didn't think they would be cruel enough to leave you wide open for injury. Or at least, Kuwabara would do his best. He'd proven he had the most humanity during this tournament.

Yeah, you were much safer near the actual fights than you were surrounded by demons. Begrudgingly, you made your way down. Dodging a few swipes directed at you before jumping over the railing. Your actions quickly catching the attention of Koto, the cat announcer.

“And who is that making their way over to Team Urameshi! Could this be their alternate fighter? Or perhaps one of their lovers~”

You cursed her for drawing attention directly towards you. Already feeling all eyes on you as you approached.

“What are you doing here?” Kurama questioned. The other two looked expectantly at you for your answer.

“I have no idea where the girls are. And I don't think it's a good idea for me to be up in that stadium by myself.”

He gave a hum, about to usher you closer to him when someone beat him to the punch.

“Well I'll protect ya, so don't worry!” Kuwabara assured. Pulling you close by your shoulders in a way that had you laughing. Unawares of the subtle way Kurama's eyes had narrowed.

“Thank you. That's very sweet.”

“Don't mention it. Nothing gets past me, so I'll let you know when to duck and cover.”

“If that's the case, they're better off in the stadium,” Hiei commented.

“What did you say, shrimp!” Kuwabara released you to get in his face. The two of them continuing to bicker while you laughed.

Your gaze caught Shuichi's and you offered an amused grin.

“Your friends seem fun. Can't believe you didn't introduce me to them sooner.”

“They’re not exactly the type you bring up in passing. And I doubt you would've believed I was associated with them,” he answered, though there was some mirth in his eyes that let you know he was teasing.

“Excuse me, I'd like to get back to the semi-finals now,” Juri, the fish announcer this time, interrupted.

It once again reminded you just where you were. What could happen if any of Kurama and his friends slipped up. You shouldn't be joking around causing a distraction. Not when lives were at stake. His life. Your anxieties only worsened when the first round begun.

Sure Hiei had managed to beat his opponent in under five minutes. But the brief second he'd disappeared made your heart stop. Unconsciously moving yourself closer to Kurama.

The second match was much worse. The burly man in front of Hiei using his sword to cut his own arm. Explaining how once his body had been exposed to a specific pain, it wouldn't affect him the next time he was hurt. It was only a matter of time before the smaller demon ran out of options. With his sword broken and his spirit energy depleted, he took a gamble.

The conclusion of the fight had felt so sudden. So brutal. Kuro Momotaro had seemingly won, his teeth piercing into Hiei's shoulder. The aftermath was a fountain of blood spraying out.

You’d flinched away at the sight, trying your best to shut out the triumphant cheers of the stadium. Only for them to go quiet as Hiei shoved the body off of him. The shape shifting demon now in pieces on the floor. Hiei was okay. And as he continued to antagonize Kuwabara, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

It was easier to stomach the fights when you were with the girls. People who weren't desensitized to the carnage around them. Nobody had batted an eye down here. They all seemed used to it. Only further reminding you just how feeble and weak you were in their presence.

Hell, Hiei was practically begging for a round three despite his condition. The dice were brought out again, and you were praying to whatever God was up there it wouldn't land on Shuichi's name. You knew it wasn't fair. He needed to fight at some point. Judging by the determined expression on his face, he wanted to. But you didn't have a good feeling about this. You didn't want him to leave your side towards his potential death.

Please don't let it be him.

“Now fighting for Team Urameshi, Kurama. and for team Uraotogi, Uraurashima.”

Fuck.

You stood shakily next to Hiei and Kuwabara as Kurama stepped into the area. His opponent a young boy with a fishing pole. At least he looked easy to beat. It gave you momentary relief before both of them drew their weapons. Uraurashima’s fishing line clashing with Kurama's Rose Whip. Equally bouncing off of each other with no indication of one overpowering the other.

“They're evenly matched? Or is he not fighting for real?” You asked.

Hiei gave a bark of laughter at your observation.

“So you do know him well. Kurama's just fooling around. It's an obnoxious habit. He never creates his own strategy until he fully understands his opponent's.”

You were gonna strangle Shuichi when he was done fighting.

“Nice to know he over analyzes everything.”

You watched as they continued to have a stalemate. Though something had changed in Shuichi's expression. It was somber. Like he was contemplating something. Now was not the time for him to get distracted.

He let up on his assault along with his opponent. And right when he moved to haphazardly strike, Uraurashima dodged. Wrapping Kurama in his fishing line and pulling as hard as he could. Slicing into his skin.

You couldn't stop yourself from screaming out his name. Kuwabara instinctively pulling you behind him.

“Don't look, okay?”

Don't look? How could you not look. That was your best friend up there. No matter how badly you wanted to turn away, you couldn't. Looking on in horror as Uraurashima approached him. Surely Kurama had some other trick up his sleeve to protect himself?

But his eyes told you a different story. Frustration and anger. You don't think you've ever seen him mad before. He staggered on his feet, only for the onslaught to continue. It looked hopeless as he fled.

Your eyes widening with tears once he was cornered. There was nowhere to run. A forcefield in effect prevented him from doing so. His opponent presenting a box of some kind and opening it. Purple smoke poured out as he explained how it worked.

It would de-age Kurama. Turn him into a child where he couldn't defend himself. A cowards move. Only when the entire arena had been filled with smoke did your tears fall.

You were powerless to do anything. You couldn't help him even if you wanted to. Designated to nothing but a bystander in his fate. Your worst fear coming true.

It was silent for a moment. Complete silence as the Idun box worked its magic. Then all at once lightning struck. No, not lighting… it was a spike of spirit energy.

Your body shook as it tried to process the power around it. The force was almost strangling.

“Do you feel that, too?” Kuwabara asked before looking back at you. He visibly panicked seeing you struggle to breathe.

“Hiei! We need some help over here!”

The three eyed demon spared you a glance, giving an irritated huff as he pulled you towards him.

“Stand close to me. I should've known someone as weak as you wouldn't be able to withstand this much. Your body isn't used to this much spiritual pressure.”

He created a small barrier of his own energy around you. You took a few greedy gasps of air. Relieved to be able to breathe again. You offered a weak ‘Thanks.’ Still worried about what exactly was happening.

This power…Could it really have been Shuichi's? Or was it something else entirely? Was he even still alive?

“Where's all that weird energy coming from?” Kuwabara questioned.

Hiei only seemed to beam with pride.

“It's all Kurama. Down to the last drop.” He responded.

You wanted to start crying again. Your emotions all over the place. He was okay in there after all. Maybe he'd be able to find a way to win.

“But it feels different somehow, and a heck of a lot more powerful,” Kuwabara pointed out.

“That fool he's been fighting has turned him back into his demon form. Before he was tainted by you humans.” Hiei explained.

That caught your attention. A part of you defensive at his words.

“Tainted? It's not like we made him stay.” Like you'd ruined him with your presence.

“No, not directly. That doesn't change the fact you made him weaker. Soft.”

You wanted to question him about what he meant, but the sound of something crashing through the barrier stopped you. All at once the smoke started pouring out. The forcefield itself was destroyed. In a matter of seconds the arena was clear.

In its wake was a red demon with its neck pierced by a sword. Further away was….No. That couldn't be.

“Shuichi?”

You regretted calling out to him as soon as his name left your lips. The silver haired demon’s head snapped towards you. The pair of ears on his head seemed to twitch at your voice.

He was different, so very different from the man you knew. His demeanor felt cold. You briefly remembered what he used to be: a fox. If the ears and tail didn't already give it away. Wild and unpredictable. If your friend was in there, it sure didn't look like it.

You trembled at the intensity from his gaze. He made a gesture with his hand, as if reaching out before you felt the ground give way. You could feel yourself fall back, landing on something soft. You hardly processed yourself moving up until you were about ten feet off the ground. You realized then what you were on top of. A type of giant leaf was carrying you.

What the hell was going on? What was gonna happen to you?

You felt the leaf shift forward, and that was when you decided to call for help. For the one person who would probably know what to do.

"Hiei, help me!” You tried to reach down, but he backed away.

You let out a scream this time as the leaf rushed forward. Kuwabara tried to reach for you, but he was stopped by the three eyed demon.

“What gives!?!? Why aren't you helping them!?!”

“Fool. Don't interfere or you'll wind up dead.”

You couldn't hear them as you were pulled towards the other side of the area. Vaguely aware of Koto’s comments.

“Now this just took an interesting turn! The mystery fighter has taken interest in the human on the field! Is he perhaps looking for his next meal?”

You were at the edge of the arena shaking. It only worsened as who you assumed to be Yoko made his way towards you. Taking slow and meticulous steps. Like a predator stalking it's cornered prey.

Why you?

Why did it have to be you?

Why did you have to go and open your big fat mouth?

Maybe he wasn't satisfied with his previous fight. Wanting to take out whatever pent up aggression he had on you. A human who just so happened to be on the field. His expression hadn't changed once since he set his sights on you. Maybe he really was planning on eating you. It's not like it was against the rules.

He was halfway to you now. You could barely hear over the sound of your heartbeat in your ears.

“We'd really like to move on to the next match now, if you don't mind,” Juri said, now back to normal.

“Quiet.”

One word was all it took to have her trembling.

“Or not! Take your time.”

His voice sounded gruff. Harsher than any tone you'd heard him use. You knew Shuichi, or rather Kurama. The boy who used to give you flowers everyday after school until he got teased for it. The boy who loved his mother more than anything. The boy who you'd never known to like senseless violence. You knew he would never hurt you. Never dream of hurting you. But this…This was not him.

A quarter of the way there.

And then he was right in front of you.

This was Yoko. An infamous demon who’d committed heinous crimes. Far too many to count. Who could kill you with no more than a swipe of his hand. And he probably would. Sharp claws on the end of each fingertip. More than enough to finish you off.

You trembled on top of the giant leaf as his gaze pierced through you. His eyes didn't hold the same warmth as Shuichi's. The familiar emerald green replaced by a faded gold. They were cold. The color so light it held nothing but ice. You continued to shake in front of him. Hoping to catch a glimpse of your best friend.

“Do you fear me, sweetling?” He spoke at last.

Your words were stuck in your throat. Unable to answer him. Fearing what would happen if you didn't.

His hand started to extend out towards you. You'd flinched and closed your eyes at the sudden movement. Expecting the worst. This was it. He was gonna slash your throat. You braced yourself for the inevitable pain…but it never came.

Instead, he'd cupped your cheek. His thumb swiping away a stray tear. An action reminiscent of Shuichi. Your Shuichi.

“You shouldn't. Open your eyes and look at me.”

You could feel your trembling ease up. Was this a game? If it was, should you play along? You didn't know what to think at the moment. If you should relax in his presence or run. But there was something about the way he was cradling your face. It was gentle. So against your better judgment, you opened your eyes. Taking a deep breath as he guided your face up.

You looked into his golden irises in search of your best friend. They weren't as cold this time. Flecks of the emerald you were used to. The softness he looked at you with had returned. Or maybe it had never really left. Your shaking had stopped completely.

“Shuichi?” you called out once more. And this time he'd smiled at you. Somehow managing to get closer into your space. But you couldn't say you minded much. Your relationship had always been touchy.

“We are one in the same. Though it's a shame he hasn't staked his claim on you yet. I will not forgo the opportunity should we meet again.”

Your face scrunched in confusion at his words. Temporary moving out of his grasp.

“What do mean stake his claim?”

His expression turned amused at your question.

“Isn't it obvious? You're ours. Our precious little mate. Shuichi is hesitant to act on his feelings. But I am not.”

You felt the leaf shift down. Letting Yoko once again cup your face. This time guiding you to bump your forehead against his.

“I am yours devotedly until the end of time.”

You could feel your face burning with embarrassment. This whole time he'd liked you. Even in his purest form he was in love with you. Why had you been so scared of losing him?

Because you'd loved him too.

“Do my ears deceive me!?!? He's actually flirting with the human!?!? Well there goes my weekend.”

But this wasn't the place for that. He couldn't be distracted by you here. There was too much at stake. Maybe when this whole tournament was over, you could properly explore these feelings.

He was leaning closer to you.

Would you turn him away if he kissed you now?

You decided the tournament committee could shove it as his lips brushed over yours.

But before they could press down fully, a heavy fog engulfed him. He'd backed away from you. The silhouette of a fox appearing for a brief second. Then it vanished, into a ray of light with one last thing to say.

“Until we meet again, sweetling.”

The light had been so blinding, you had no choice but to look away. When the dust had settled, in front of you was a familiar redhead. His tail and ears completely gone. He'd retained his previous injuries. But other than that, he was fine. He stood in front of you with an unreadable expression.

“Are you kidding me!?!? After all that we didn't even get a proper kiss!!!! Where's the entertainment in that!?!”

All at once his face went red. He was almost never flustered. Then again, his feelings were just aired out to the entire stadium. Your relationship was aired out. You knew he was a private person, so this must've felt humiliating. The cooing from the audience sure as hell didn't help.

He scooped you off of the giant leaf without a word. Surprising you with how easily he picked you up. Clutching you close to him as he made his way off the arena. His face was burning, matching your expression.

“My apologies.” he said quietly.

You could do nothing but put your head between his neck and shoulder. Wanting to hide yourself from everyone's prying eyes.

“It's okay. I didn't mind. I mean, at first you scared me. But once I saw it was really you..” you trailed off.

There was a brief silence before Shuichi spoke again.

“You reciprocated Yoko’s advancements.”

“I reciprocated your advancements.” Because they were one in the same. Although it was a little amusing to see him get jealous of himself.

“I would've let you kiss me too.” you added.

He'd finally reached the end of the area and jumped down with you still in his arms.

“I plan making good on that promise once we finish up here.”

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

Me writing this: There's no need for exposition, you can just get to the main plot!"

Also me: THE ROMANCE NEEDS TO BE BELIEVABLE 😫😫😫

Also- WHY DID I MAKE THIS SO LONG 😭

[araminakilla]

Regarding Death Wolf...

Hear me out (NO, it's not the kind you are thinking)

We know Death has a job, right? To collect souls and most likely release them to the afterlife.

And for this job, he has to be there when somebody is about to die, as demostrated with him being there moments before Puss' eight death.

Supposing he is THE Death and he has been doing this since the beginning of time (or at least when there were enough stories of the Grim Reaper to adquire a physical form) that means he has seen a lot, A LOT of awful things.

Murders, suicides, massacres, death of infants, people who didn't deserve to die alone, animal cruelty, some other heavy stuff I won't mention here, etc etc etc.

And we thought "man, how is he able to cope with all of that? That job has to be utter torture for someone."

Probably many of you could think that he is able to do that because he is Death, and he was "born" with that purpose and only him can reap souls perfectly.

But while he is a force of nature, he also WAS a force of nature. Let me explain it well: He adquired a personality enough to be angry, excited, frustrated, amazed, happy, among other emotions.

While he has supernatural power and is most likely the most powerful being in the Shrek Franchise (or in Dreamworks as many say) he is also a PERSON.

Someone with a code of honor, morals, opinions, beliefs, etc.

Returning to the question "How can he bear all of that?" taking into account he is no longer an inevitable force, but a character of his own.

The answer is something you may relate to, and that is: Creativity and escapism.

To be the embodiment of Death, the guy is a very creative fella.

First of all, his design. I heard many people saying here and in Twitter that his design is something they would come up in their edgy, teen years of drawing their first fursona.

Guess what? They are right, the wolf form is someone's fursona. It's DEATH'S fursona. He clearly came up with this badass, piercing canine form to blend with the Fairy Tale Land assuming the form of the "Big Bad Wolf". He most likely had other forms he designed over the centuries and was able to present as them like if he were on a role play game in the living world.

His sickles? The weapon of choice with the little crossed cats on it to have a bigger effect of terror for Puss? Those who can become knuckles and join to create a scythe? Those are his creation, probably after thinking it for a while and writing all of those functions on a paper.

The way he presents himself? In the bar? The coins in his eyes as a "watching you" sign while being a cool reference to the Ferryman of souls? He transforming Perrito's forest into the background of a skull? The chilling reveal at the Cave of Lost Souls? The fire ring? It was all him.

As for the escapism part...

When the world becomes too heavy to deal with as real life issues tend to make us feel bad, depressed, angry... we tend to escape it somewhere. And in our time the common place would be the internet as in webpages or comics, stories, etc.

But what has to do with Death Wolf you may ask?

Well, while he would NEVER be able to escape his job entirely, he can have moments where he can enjoy a good hunt of people who don't appreciate life, like the whole plot of the Puss in Boots sequel could demostrate.

He managed to have a little time outside his eternal routine to chase an arrogant cat who took life for granted. He enjoyed it, it was thrilling, it was exciting.

It was a way to escape a monotonous, grim "life", if just for a short moment.

So, when the chase ended as his prey no longer feared him and now was ready to fight for his last life, the wolf retreats, happy for Puss' character development but resigned because he once again had to return to "The Eternal Duty"

And that's not even counting all the times Jack "I'm dead inside" Horner had to interrupt Lobo's hunt and remind him of his job even in his "spare time"

Death knew the chase had to end eventually, but he didn't want it to end.

He didn't want to return to his own world

And if we look at Death like that, then he is probably one of the most relatable characters Dreamworks has ever make.

In the Shrek Franchise:

Monsters can be loved

Princesses don't have to fit the perfect standards of beauty

Handsome guys can be possesive jerks

Love at first sight doesn't work like one would think

Happily ever afters had to be built and not just obtain them with magic

And Death is the most creative and "full of life" being in the world

Because he would absolutely go crazy with his life/work if he wasn't.

Because in a world of Kings, Poets and Soldiers, he's the Supreme King

And he's also a perky goth but none of you are ready for that conversation.