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dragondevinity · 1 year ago

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Genshin impact Sagau~!

Part 7&8

You had heard about a certain bard in Mondstadt that won the best bard in Mondstadt award three times, “I should go visit Venti… I should also get a temporary place in Mondstadt… maybe I could work at Angels Share, plus it’s getting close to the cannon start of the game, so I’ll need to wait for Traveler to go to Mondstadt anyways…” you thought out loud while Xiao was just sitting near you reading a book you had bought him, “y/n I don’t know what your rambling is about but it can’t be good…” Xiao said since he only heard words like Venti, game, cannon and the incoherent rest of the rambling, “ah! I forgot you were here sorry Xiao!” You replied, “oh! Would you like to come to Mondstadt with me?? I’ll get you some of the best almond Tofu!” You said happily, Xiao sighed, “ok y/n, when do we leave?” He asked in return, “tomorrow!” You replied, “okay then y/n” he said.

And so here you two are at the gates of Mondstadt, “let’s get you some almond Tofu, then I’ll need to go do something by myself…” you explained to Xiao, and so you took him to Good Hunter, and you bought three plates of almond Tofu for Xiao and sat him down with the food at the table.

And so you were off to the hands of the barbatos statue to see if you could spot Venti, it didn’t take long to spot him in the centre of town playing his Lyre, and so you hopped off the statues hands and went into the crowd to listen, you pulled out the pouch of mora you have had since day one, and you quickly go to good hunter again and grab some apples, you paid and went back to the crowd, it took five minutes before he had wrapped up the performance, people started leaving and he hadn’t spotted you yet, so you snuck up behind him and trapped him in a hug which surprised him greatly, he turned his head around quickly to assess the situation, his eyes widened and quickly turned around and hugged you back, “oh my Celestial! Y/n!!! When I got back to Mondstadt I looked for you and assumed you were gone, and I even checked the library for information on what happened to you!! But there was nothing!!” Venti exclaimed now crying into your shoulder, “Venti I only just heard about you being back a week ago, I had to make sure I had left nothing to do whatsoever, also I’m sorry I scared you so much, I missed you terribly in the last 500 years…” you said starting to sob now as well, you two stayed like that for a while, then you took out a apple, you handed him the apple quickly, “Venti I need to go get someone really quickly, let’s meet at Vanessa’s tree okay?” You said softly, he nodded and disappeared quickly, you turned and ran to Good hunter, only to see Xiao with 10 empty plates instead of the original three you bought him, “Xiao I’m back, I want you to meet someone, come on!” You said giddily before grabbing him by the shoulders and teleporting the two of you to Vanessa’s tree where Venti was waiting, as soon as you got there you were hugged by Venti again, the look on Xiaos face made him look like a kicked puppy, “Venti this is Xiao! Xiao this is Venti!” You said which made them both snap out of it, “nice to meet you Xiao!” Venti said, Xiao nodded softly in response, ‘maybe I could get them together!!!’ You thought suddenly, ‘I’ll wait until they both know each other better though before I try to get them together!’ You thought right after, it was slowly becoming dark and you were all talking, “oh I should probably mention something!” You said, “I’ve technically only known Xiao 60ish years less than you Venti!” You state casually, both Xiaos and Venti’s eyes widened at that, “oh shit! Neither of y’all knew about the other yet…” you said nervously, “Adeptus Xiao meet Barbatos~!” You say even more nervously, “WHAT!?!!?!!?!??!” They both yelled at the same time, and so you explained to them how the other had met you and some other stuff…

It took you over 500 years to find out you can teleport to fucking taverns! Like why! Anyways…

You were working a shift at angels share with Charles while talking to Diluc, you had made Diluc give you the job after you explained that you needed a job and were new to Mondstadt. Then it happened Paimon, Traveler and Venti burst through the door and got a table upstairs away from the guards that came in soon, you watched from behind the bar until they left…

You left the counter to go clean up a table, and the trio came down shortly after, you just watched for a bit nearly giggling, ‘fuck it I’m joining the conversation now’ you thought, “ok this is a nice talk you four are having right now, I want in” you said casually while slinging a arm around Venti’s shoulder causing him to squeak in surprise, “y-y/n~~! Don’t scare me, you know the wind likes hiding your presence~!” Venti whines, “y/n? You know this bard?” Diluc asked raising an eyebrow, “this is one of the friends I’ve told you about Diluc!” You state casually, “eh!!! Why does this bard know such a pretty lady!” Paimon exclaimed, this caused you to finally realise which one of the twins was the traveler, “ah nice to meet you Aether~!” You say happily not noticing that you messed up, “h-how did you know my name miss? The only person I’ve told that to is Paimon!” Aether exclaimed pulling out a sword, the other three pause then look at you expectingly, “oh fuck I’m so sorry, I should explain y/n to you Traveler, since I’ve met her she’s always done things like this, it’s something she hasn’t ever been able to stop when it happens…” Venti explains, ‘I’m so thankful this isn’t the first time I’ve done this shit!’, “so about storm terror! I assume you guys plan to go and steal the holy lyre back from the people who stole it? Well I’m happy to help! I’ll even bring Venti’s future boyfriend~!!” You say cheerily, Venti’s face flushed in response and the others realised you were teasing him, “so now that that’s nearly settled I’ll meet you all at the location tomorrow night and we can go over the terms more safely, till we meet again! Now sho sho~!” You say before shoing the three besides Diluc out, you were about to go back to serving before Diluc pulled you aside to talk, “y/n I’m happy you want to help in this whole debacle but I don’t think it’s safe for you, you aren’t an adventurer, it’s not safe…” he said looking into your eyes, at this you giggled, “come with me to the guild tomorrow Diluc, I’ll need to show you something~!” You said smiling, Diluc felt shivers go down his back, it made him feel like he had made a grave mistake by saying anything…

Time skip!

You were all at the place where the battle against storm terror was about to take place, you were in one of your normal outfits which confused the rest, “oh yeah would anyone want a protection spell cast on them?” You asked quickly, everyone nodded quietly, you cast the spell with no effort which shocked them momentarily, “it’ll ware off by tomorrow morning” you say casually, then it started, you wanted to help but you waited to see if your help was truly needed, everything went off without a hitch thankfully, and you all went to angels share to celebrate with fruit juice and dandelion wine~! (Cough *Venti because it was all on you* Cough).

You all were so happy that this debacle was finally resolved… if only shit wouldn’t happen in Liyue soon… ‘I’m going to fucking stomp Zhongli if he doesn’t say something to me or Xiao before fucking going through with faking his archon-selves death!!!’ You think to yourself as Venti and Xiao cuddle on the couch next to your chair.

There’s part 7&8~!!!

#genshin impact sagau #genshin impact #sagau

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messagefound · 9 months ago

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swan

this was my first attempt at writing albatross after oc-fying him. i still like it, but if i were to change anything i would've changed the last bit, and potentially edit the adam part. the last bit feels incoherent, and the adam bit feels outdated to me. either way, i still enjoy its mood.

Summary: Albatross starts a dream journal. He tries not to think of how ominous it got over time.

I have been told it’s proper to address a journal or diary before writing in it, so hello diary. My friends have told me journaling might help ease my “antsy” feelings, so I’ve decided to take this out whenever I go to the beach. The Lady has said it’s okay for me to do so if I do my work first. The problem is, I’m not quite sure I see the point in writing, but I noticed that my Psychopomp doesn’t pull and nip at me as much when I have a pen in my hand. Perhaps this is what my friends meant? They say it helps to listen to them, because they sometimes know us better than we do.

I do have to say, I’m not even sure why I have one. Brother didn’t have one. The whitecoats at the Place didn’t have any. If the Lady has one, no one’s ever seen it. I didn’t even know what a Psychopomp was until I got here. Mynah told me they and Owl don’t know how they got theirs either, a feather just appeared on their person one day. From that feather came a bird, weird looking birds. It makes it awfully hard to keep things to yourself, because they act out your thoughts. Sometimes they act in ways you haven’t realized apply to you yet. They say when they found me, mine was screaming loudly even as I was unconscious.

I think maybe that’s why I had that dream before I finally woke up. I wasn’t able to see anything, I just knew something was drilling into my back. It embedded itself deeply, enough that I could feel the pressure on my spine. I felt it stick straight up, and I felt something pull my shoulder blades far too much, far too hard. I thought my bones were going to break. Maybe in the dream I was screaming? Maybe my bird reflected that. Or did its “waking up” cause the dream? It’s all very confusing.

The breeze feels nice today. I just wish it wasn’t so cold.

I don’t miss much about the Place. I don’t like to think about it much. I think it’s good that we got out. There were bad people there.

The only respite I had was Brother. He would be the one to read me the books we had. When we split, he was the one to retain the reading ability while I had to relearn it. I’m not sure why he seemed to have less trouble than me. He was always the stronger one. I was always sick and weak, which made the whitecoats angry. Brother had to endure so much for me, all the time.

...maybe when they split us, they messed up? That had to be it. I’m unable to think of any other reason why we were so...disproportionate. I got better though. I haven’t felt sick in a while. Really, all I’ve been feeling is cold.

My friends found it odd when I picked this woolly coat for my uniform. They keep saying it’s been hot out, and that it would be better if I stick with a more streamlined outfit. I’m not sure why they keep saying that. Every time I go out it’s freezing. Even with this coat on, I keep shivering sometimes.

I like its texture though. I like using it as a blanket when I sleep sometimes. The inside is cold too, but I feel safe when I drift off surrounded by the wool.

It reminds me of the dream, not just a dream but the dream, that me and my brother used to share at the Place. I put such emphasis on it because it felt like us, both of us at once. Surely, it’s a memory our former self, our truer self had before the division.

It’s all so fuzzy to us, but we just remember the warmth. We don’t know where we are, we just know we’re happy. Happy and very sleepy. We’re lying on something soft, something we can’t see but we love so, so much. There was a lot of love, we felt. We loved everything that lay beyond the sepia blur, the things me and Brother couldn’t remember. We loved the warm light, we loved the distant laughter we heard, we loved the birds we could hear but not see. Most of all we loved ourselves, our entire being, all that would become me and my brother. We would fall asleep, gently, slowly, but of course we would both wake up by then. Getting that feeling back was what kept us sane, I think. We wanted that happiness back more than anything.

It feels odd to think about now. I’m surrounded by people who all have their whole selves intact, and yet most of them never seem happy. Mynah screams at night and fidgets and stares during the day. Owl doesn’t react to many things, even if you were to strike him, he wouldn’t even make eye contact. That Raven boy struts like he owns the place, and yet I wouldn’t think even for a second that a boy his age would be here for a happy reason. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the Lady smile, either.

Maybe they’re missing parts of themselves too but...different from me. I’m missing the outside part; they must be missing the inside. Maybe I’m missing both.

...I miss Brother. I wish he would come out of the sea already.

Was what I had a nightmare? I feel like if I were to explain it to the others they would think so. But does it really count if I just felt...confused? I didn’t wake up scared, nor did I sleep scared. But there had certainly been a lot of blood...

I dreamed I was watching someone from above, entangled in dead branches in a barren leafless tree and surrounded by many others of its kind. The figure below was hard for me to look at. His face was blurred, garbled in fading blooms like a cataract. I just know his hair was long, both black and white, his clothes were ripped and torn, and his form was so skinny I could see his bones jut from within his skin.

Something about the sight of him made me very sad. I could feel tears drip down my cheeks and patter down to the scorched earth below. I wasn’t even sure why. I was sure I’ve never seen this person before, and yet I felt I should know him. If nothing else, I should’ve known him, but I still couldn’t see his face the way I wanted.

I saw him look out into the empty world for a moment. Then I saw him dig his own hands into his sides, hardly making even a cry as he tore out his own ribs. Blood spilled onto the dirt and even the starving earth was too startled to drink it. Even then, he did not react. He only calmly dug holes beneath the boughs, planting each of his ribs within like they were only saplings.

All the while he kept bleeding. I don’t think most people were supposed to bleed that much. I don’t know how he kept living for as long as he did.

Once he planted all his ribs, I saw him dig another hole beneath my tree. He didn’t see me up there, and I couldn’t call for him either. I could just...watch. He was digging a much bigger hole, one whose purpose to me was clear when I saw his bleeding, torn-up body that close.

He patted my tree, gently, as if it were a friend.

“Let this be my gift to you,” he whispered. “Be beautiful for the ones after me.”

Then he let himself fall into the grave.

I kept crying. I could’ve sworn small green shoots rose from where my tears fell.

…

I miss Brother. I hate waiting.

I read a book recently about how dreams are supposed to have meaning in them, even the most nonsensical ones. A lot of it just seemed to be completely made up to me. I don’t need to think too hard to guess what nightmares are so common around here.

I was happy to just have a place to stay at first, but I think it’s gotten to me too. Mynah called it a “panopticon,” something built for prisoners. An immense circular structure lined with small rooms, hardly enough to fill each single person. In the center was another structure, a smaller one, sometimes raised to tower above the lower levels but sometimes not. The idea is that, even though you know full well just one guard can’t inspect everyone at once, you don’t know whether eyes are on you or not. It’s too far away, too small. You just know you can’t risk anything. You can’t show even the slightest ounce of disrespect, because someone might hear, might see, always.

I think the Lady might’ve done that on purpose. I’ve seen how much she likes it when people cower beneath her, even if she never smiles. Her eyes would widen and flash in different colors. I’ve seen her stomp on people before until their faces were bloody under her heel. Sometimes I don’t think it’s because they even did anything to warrant punishment. I think she just enjoys it.

I’ve noticed Mynah’s earpieces light up whenever the Lady speaks or even stares in their direction. They would always go very, very quiet whenever that happens. I’ve seen them dig their fingernails so hard into their legs that the fabric rips and I could see them draw blood.

I can’t ask them about it. It’s simply too dangerous. When I ask too much it goes off and they scream so loud when that happens. I can’t say anything. I mustn’t. I won’t.

Owl signs the wrong name for the Lady sometimes. When he types, he puts in the wrong name, something Mynah must go in and expunge before anyone else sees. They always seem upset when this happens, but I can’t ask why. Owl doesn’t seem to understand why this step is necessary. He always seems so annoyed whenever Mynah says he couldn’t keep doing this.

“We can’t let her know you still call her that!” they say.

I don’t think I can even write it, even when I know what it is. I can’t ask about its significance, or why it means so much to Owl, or why the Lady might hate it. There’s a lot of things I don’t know, and I can’t do. It scares me. I’m scared to be here. I only stay because what if Brother comes back and I’m not here? I must stay.

I must.

...I was supposed to write my dream down huh? I thought too much. I went down too many winding roads, like this very place.

…

I don’t want this to be another Place.

I think I’m ready to write down my dream now. It’s been happening for a while.

I would be sitting here, like usual. The breeze would blow past me, and the waves still crash upon the shore in a din still too silent for me. I wait. I shiver. Still nothing happens. I’m still missing a half. As the hours pass, I still try not to let it get to me. I still try not to cry into the silence.

Then I hear a cry in the cerulean sky. I hold out my hands to catch the little bluebird that has just fallen out of the sky like it’s been shot. I see no arrow or bullet in its side, but it still cries into my hand. It’s so small. It hardly fills up the space in both my hands.

It doesn’t chirp or sing when it cries. It sounds like a little girl, hardly grown enough to leave the nest and fly away. I don’t know why it’s alone, and I don’t think it knows either. It just knows it misses its mother, its flock, its very family.

I try stroking its back, its neck, holding it close to my chest and cooing at it like a dove would. I treat it cautiously, fearing I would break it with just a touch out of place because I’m just so big compared to its little body. I just keep whispering to it, every fiber of my being suddenly driven to protect this chick that wasn’t mine.

It still cried.

I begin to tell it a story, an old story about a robin that died. The sparrow killed him, the fly witnessed it, the fish caught his blood. The beetle makes him a funeral shroud, the owl digs his grave. The rook oversees it, the lark records it, the linnet leads the procession. The dove mourns the most, the kite carries the coffin, the wrens cover it. The thrush sings a psalm, and the bullfinch rings the mourning bell.

I don’t think it knew what it meant. It just knew the names of the birds, saw there was more of it in the world.

And yet, it still cried, but it was quieter.

“Something bad is going to happen,” it said.

I wake then. Every time the little bird says that, and I keep waking. I’ve begun to feel a deep urgency, a feeling of coming doom, and I don’t know what else to do about it.

I’m scared.

Brother, please just come out of the water. Isn’t it cold? Why would you want to stay down there?

#surreal horror #oc writing #original writing #weirdcore #dreamcore #dream diary #dream journal #supernatural horror #psychological horror #tanzaku

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cositapreciosa · 2 years ago

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dearest friend, can i request a kitty fic where reader is possibly a nursing student who’s had a one night stand (or is in a new sort of relationship) with kitty and is called upon after our pobrecito was shot

maybe even ramón brings him bleeding and messed up to their very doorstep?

i trust you mami, mercip

In training

Arturo '' Kitty '' Paez x reader (use of spanish female pet names, but otherwise pretty gender neutral), 2822 words

a/n : @narcolini and me wish to speak to the Bad Bunny fandom directly and ask you guys : why the fuck has no one jumped on the Kitty train, the lack of gif for our babe is truly heartbreaking.

In other words, we are now the biggest Benito simps ever, we have a full-on headcanon list for Kitty if anyone care. We are sane and horny is all

As always it's the fictional, not the real deal, enjoy xx

When you first met Kitty Paez, you never thought you would get along so well. Something about how extroverted, how loud he was, trying to get him to listen every time you had to work with him in class. He had always told you he was in school because his dad wanted him to be, so for that one class you happened to have together, he stuck to you like glue. Something about you being ‘’ the smartest in the room, mami.’’, how you ‘’ know Santiago, so we’re like friends already, ‘’.

You had told him from the start, when his hands had started to linger on your back for too long, or when his eyes wouldn’t leave yours, making your heart race. How you didn’t want a relationship right now, that your nursing degree would always be your number one priority. You didn't mention the part where you wouldn't allow someone to play with your heart again.

‘’ I don’t mind. If that's all you can give, I’ll take it ‘’ he had said, ‘’ I’m taking my cues from you, morrita. ‘’

And you did, kicking him under the table every time he wouldn’t listen in class, small touches that would linger longer now, taking you out on the town with his friends. You let him do all those things, enjoying how stress-free his presence was, letting yourself fall asleep in his bed, even after all the times he had to leave late at night after his phone rang. You wouldn’t mind, you thought, if he decided to call it quit, but you couldn’t deny how strong your heart was beating that time he had brought you flowers from his mom’s garden. Later that day, he had told you he actually didn’t mind when you called him Arturo, that it suited your voice, your lips.

You stopped seeing him that week, avoiding him between classes. Pretending school work was more demanding than usual, your part-time job giving you more hours. You stayed home, trying to figure out how you let this happen, how you could fix this, get rid of the butterflies in your chest. You knew he would probably come by unannounced, claiming a movie night was long overdue, pretending like he didn’t know you ignored the phone every time he called. Maybe if you ignored all of this, if you ignored him, you wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. You were wrong.

The last person you had expected was Ramón pounding on your door on a random Saturday night. As you looked through the peephole, you knew Arturo had to be behind him, all dressed up, ready to beg you to come and join them to the local club. When you opened the door, already ready to make up a false assignment to be done by tomorrow, you expected even less for Ramón to shove a blood-soaked Arturo into your arms as soon as you opened the door so he could stumble past you in your living room.

You weren’t sure what to do, standing between the closed door and the coffee table, watching Ramón pushing furniture left and right. Arturo’s breath is warm on your cheek, and you can feel your arms straining from trying to keep him on his feet. He mumbles something in your ear, incoherent words, stumbling over one another. You grip him a bit harder, but his shirt is soaked, sliding between your fingers,

‘’ What happened? ‘’, you whisper to him. Ramón’s tense shoulders and deep breathing seems to take away all your courage to speak louder as if breaking his focus would make him explode. Arturo seems to regain energy then, knees locking, shoulders squaring and pushing against you to stand in a last effort to gain control,

‘’ They shot me, mami. ‘’ He coughs once, twice, ’’ They fucking shot me. ‘’

He leans back on the door, surely noticing how your arms are shaking from the effort. You can do nothing but stand between the two men, listening to your furniture being moved around, the slow drip of Arturo’s blood against the hardwood floor. His eyes are on you now, half closed, weak, sad.

You always knew he was involved in whatever thing Ramón and his friends were involved in. Adrenaline-infused, not legal, none of your business type of involvement. He sniffs, hand pressed against his abdomen,

‘’ I can’t feel my legs. ‘’

You notice how pale he is, how bloodshot and unfocused his eyes are. Your training kicks in, and you are quick to pull him to you, not listening to the way your arms are begging for you to let go. The minutes are long, your throat is dry, you want to do something, anything, but nothing seems like it would fix whatever is happening in your home.

After what feels like an eternity, Ramón is back in front of you, chest heaving, frantic eyes searching for his friend’s gaze. He grunts as he pulls Arturo back from your arms, laying him as slowly as he can in the middle of your living room. Your voice almost breaks when you speak, you never realized how big the lump in your throat had gotten,

‘’ Be careful with him! What is wrong with you?! ‘’

You almost shove him out of the way to kneel next to Arturo, cradling his face with your hand, keeping him from moving around too much. You do the next logical thing, pressing your other hand on the gaping wound on his stomach, as Ramón turns to you. His hands are running through his hair, pulling at his scalp,

‘’ He needs medical attention. ‘’

You scoff, ‘’ Clearly! I’m calling an ambulance- ‘’

You barely push on your knees to get up that Ramón towers over you. You can see the fire in his eyes, the fear. The guilt. You don’t dare stand up as he points at you,

‘’ You told me you were a nurse! ‘’

‘’ In training! ‘’ you spit back, ‘’ I’m not even halfway through school, I could kill him! ‘’

Arturo groans underneath you, your hand still frames his head. You shush him softly, tugging his head closer to your lap,

‘’ This is insane, Ramón, he needs to - ‘’

He shakes his head, cutting you off,

‘’ We can’t, there’s only one option for him right now. We can’t go to a hospital. Your choice. ‘’

The silence is deafening, static buzzing in your ears. Your hand is pressed firmly on his abdomen, whitening your knuckles. You can feel the warmth of his blood between your fingers. How his chest shakes between breaths. Pondering your options is not a luxury you can afford. He can’t either.

You hold tighter to him, trying to stop the whimpers coming from his lips, pushing his hair away from his forehead. You know he would be disgusted by the dirt and how they stick to his forehead,

‘’ I have some first aid kits in the bathroom. I’ll need all of them, towels too. ‘’

You don’t need to tell him twice, Ramón is out of sight as soon as the words leave your mouth. Those minutes felt like hours. Your wrist starts to cramp, tired from holding the pressure, but you don’t want to let go, you can’t. His eyes flutter, unfocused, looking at you,

‘’ You have blood on your cheek,‘’ he croaks. You nod slowly, you know if you speak your voice might break, so you don’t. He takes a deep breath, blinking once, twice, hard, trying to wipe away the blur. It sounds healthy, no wheezing. You exhale, relieved, realizing how long you have been holding your breath,

‘’ I’m sorry, bebé, ‘’ he murmurs, ‘’ I’m so sorry. ‘’

You hum, caressing the side of his face with your thumb. It’s okay, you want to tell him, you’ll be fine, I’ll fix this. Empty promises.

There’s so much blood on your floor, on your couch, on your hands. We’ll pay for it, Ramón had said, for someone to clean it up, but the longer it stays there, seeping in the wood, in the fibers of your sofa, the more you just want to scrub at it. Tear off the slats one by one. Burn those decorative pillows that you now hate so much.

You don’t know how long you have been standing in front of the sink in your bathroom, watching the water go down the drain. There’s still blood under your nails, and you never seem to soap them long enough to get it out. You hear him moving in the living room, dragging his feet, stumbling over blood-soaked rags and first aid kits that you don’t dare pick up. Stubborn ass.

You turn off the faucet, whipping your hands on your pants. You don’t know if you want to face him yet. Face how pale his face is, how crooked the sutures are on his abdomen. Still, he keeps moving, you know he knows you’re here. You can still feel how warm his blood was beneath your palm. You did not sign up for this, you think, you were not supposed to get yourself involved like this, you-

‘’ Hey. ‘’

He’s already by the door, leaning against it, holding his hand near his wound. You sniff a little, still whipping your hands against your thighs,

‘’ Hi. You remember anything from yesterday? ‘’

He frowns, visibility uncomfortable, confused,

‘’ Yesterday? How long was I out? ‘’

‘’ A day and a half. ‘’

You walk to him, slowly moving his hand away from his abdomen to take a look at his bandages,

‘’ You don’t look too pale, you’re feeling better? ‘’

He nods, hissing when you pull at the medical tape. Weirdly enough, you’re angry at him, for being so reckless, so stupid, so you keep tugging at it despite his protests. His other hand shoots up, gently grabbing your wrist to stop it from pulling further. You do anyway, noticing how the blood dried near the wound, the skin overall looking red but healthy,

‘’ I don’t have to change it, you’ll be good for a few more hours. ‘’

Arturo looks at you, with soft eyes and furrowed brows. You know what he’s thinking. Wondering how much he should tell you about what happened. You already know, you aren’t dumb, you’re not pretending to be. The guns in his drawers, the powerful, sketchy friends, that one-time local police came looking for him. All those VIPs access he brings you to. You can only guess what happened, and you know you’re right. His hand meet your hips, trying to bring you to him, his thumb slowly pushing your t-shirt, caressing the skin under it,

‘’ I want to apologize, ‘’ he says. He can’t look at you, focusing on the tiles at his feet. You know it’s not his style. Apologizing,

‘’ It’s okay, ‘’ you reassured, ‘’ You know I’d do it again in a heartbeat. ‘’

As much as you tried to hide it, you know it’s not a secret. How much you care for him, yearn for him. You shouldn’t have to, he wants to say, you don’t deserve this. Him, he means,

‘’ It won’t happen again. ‘’ He says.

He presses his fingers on your side as if holding on tighter would make the words more real. A promise maybe. A smile tugs at your lips, so bright, so soft, he can’t help to wonder how you can still shine so bright for him after what happened,

‘’ Don’t start lying to me now, Arturo. ‘’

His inside melts, his heart beating fast. His fingers are cold on your warm skin. He feels light-headed, he needs to sit down before he passes out. He moves past you, brushing your chin for a second with his finger as he sits on the lid near the sink. His skin burns, itching literally at the seam, and if he hadn’t caught how your fingers were still shaking pulling at the gaze earlier he might have tried to joke about how amateur of a job you had made,

‘’ I- ‘’ He’s not sure how to start, he realizes, how to make this whole thing right again. You move in front of him, between his legs, arms crossed,

‘’ You shouldn’t be up. ‘’ you say, ‘’ I’ll make you something to eat, put some color on your face. ‘’

He knows you’re right. He knew he should have stayed in bed the second he woke up, but he couldn’t. How could he go back to sleep when the last thing he remembered was how dark the blood on your cheek was. How he had never been scared of dying until last night.

His hands wrap around your thigh. Please don’t go. You’re so warm, and he can’t seem to shake the cold in his bones,

‘’ I want to thank you. ‘’

He can see the switch in your body language, the way your shoulders relax, and how you sway slightly to the side. He knows you’re going to joke about the whole thing, minimize the blood on your hands, pretend like this happens every day,

‘’ I mean, I’m getting a new couch out of this, ‘’ you smile a little, ‘’ Ramón even said someone’s going to deep clean my living room. I’m not- ‘’

‘’ I need you to stop pretending this is okay. ‘’

You frown, head leaning to the side. He knows he hit something, hurt something. You grab his chin in one hand, putting the other against his forehead,

‘’Your temperature is up. ‘’

He groans. Stop this, he wants to say, let’s talk about this. He feels cold again when your hands leave his face. You take a step back, his fingers falling from your thigh,

‘’ I’m going to make you some food and then you’re going to- ‘’

‘’ I love you. ‘’ he blurts out. It’s the only thing he knows will make you stay. Don’t leave. Stay. Let’s talk about it. It pulls at his chest, at his heart. He means it. He had for so long now,

‘’ Arturo- ‘’ Your voice feels like a warning, a scolding, a parent telling their child to stay off the ledge.

‘’ I love you, ‘’ **He leans forward, pulling softly at your pants, bringing you back to him, **‘’ And I want you to stop pretending everything is fine. ‘’

Your hand raises to his face, slowly pushing away his curls to finally stop behind his ear. He knows you can feel his heartbeat in your palm, holding his life in your hands yet again,

‘‘ You do dumb shit, all the time, I don’t know why. ‘’

You scoff, your hand is shaking again. He presses his against yours, his thumb rubbing on your soft skin, wishing he could do anything, everything, to make it stop,

‘’ Stop doing dumb shit, Arturo. Please. My heart can’t take it. ‘’

He’s not sure what to say for once. He knows dumb shit is his thing.

Silence is thick, air unmoving. Your dryer back in the kitchen is the only sound in the room. He doesn’t move, head leaning on your hand. It’s baby steps, he knows, getting you to speak your mind. To tell him exactly how you feel. You had never been one to speak aloud about your emotions, preferring to listen to others, helping them, hoping it would bring you the peace and quiet you were looking for yourself. You don’t wait for him to answer or debate again,

‘’ Let me make you some soup, we’ll talk about this, hmm? ‘’

He nods because he knows you can’t say it as freely as he can, scream it like he wants you to do. In a way, he’s not as sad about it as he thought he would be. He’s not blind, he does notice when you look at him thinking he doesn’t see it, thinking he wouldn’t catch on how much affection is being held in your eyes those times when his gaze had met yours. How you remember the way he takes his coffee in the morning. Not one day forgetting to put his glasses in his bag before school, even though he wants to pretend he doesn’t need them. That time he couldn’t get a hold of you for days after he got you those flowers.

If that’s all you can give today he’ll take it. God knows he thinks he deserves less. Sitting in your bathroom, hoping he won’t pass out again, he’s sure of it now. He doesn’t mind waiting,

'' I’m taking my cues from you, morrita. ''

#arturo paez x reader #kitty x reader #arturo kitty paez x reader #narcos mexico imagine #narcos mexico fanfiction #kitty paez #kitty paez x reader #bad bunny x reader

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kurlyfrasier · 2 years ago

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Gedet’ye (Please)

Synopsis: Mando finds Reader on the brink of death.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Warnings: Angst. This can be considered...sad. Possible death? Idk, up to your interpretation. Din is worried. Very worried. Mando’a is...kinda used (she says after she adds an 8 word glossary).

Disclaimer: I do not own any Star Wars/Mandalorian anything.

A/N: I’m sorry. Also, is this technically a drabble?

Word Count: 593 (hmm...this is unusually short for me)

Mando’a:

~ Ner Kar'ta (Nair Kah-ROH-ta): my heart

~ Di'kut (DEE-koot): idiot

~ Aruetii (ah-roo-AH-tee): foreigner/outsider

~ Atin (ah-TEEN): stubborn

~ Burc'ya (BOOR-sha): friend (can be used ironically)

~ Cyar'tomade (SHAR-toe-MAH-day): fans/supporter/devotee

~ Dala (DAH-la): woman

~ Gedet'ye (geh-DET-yay): please

Pronunciations found here.

“No!” The voice, modulated as always, sounded closer than you thought. “Ner Kar’ta!”

Hmm…You wondered what that meant. Had never heard that word before. Di’kut, you knew. Aruetii, you had figured out eventually. Atin, he called you that all the time. Burc’ya, you liked best, especially when he told others you were his friend. Sometimes he even called you his biggest cyar’tomade. That one always made you laugh. Dala, you found was for when he was irritated with you.

“Gedet’ye,” he begged, not that you knew what it meant either, but the way his voice shook- the way his hands frantically moved to find where you were hurt. There was no way he wasn’t begging- pleading- for something.

You wished you could give it to him. Whatever it was.

“Ner Kar’ta,” the word sounded pleasant. You would have to ask him what it meant when you woke up later. Although it was strange for you to sleep this time of day with the suns glaring down at you. Normally you didn’t sleep well in the light. “Gedet’ye, ner kar’ta. Don’t die on me.”

Oh. Is that what gedet’ye meant? Were you dying?

“Ha,” you choked out. The tiny bark of laughter coughing a spurt of blood more than conveying his dramatics.

“Atin,” he growled through what sounded like a smile, shaking his less-than-usually shiny, helmeted head. “Let’s get you to the Crest.”

A groan tore from your throat as he lifted you up in his arms. It was a protest. You didn’t want him to think you were weak. You wanted to walk on your own two feet back to the ship. Back home. But nothing came out except an indecipherable moan and your arms wouldn’t stop flailing out of your control outside of his grip, bouncing with each heavy step he took.

“I got you,” he stated. “Just keep breathing.”

From the way your lungs burned, that was easier said than done.

“Wha-”

“No talking,” he stated, irritation floating to your ears. Nothing unusual between the two of you. You knew too well how to push his buttons.

So you tried again. “Wha-”

“I mean it. No talking,” you knew that tone. It was his ‘listen to me or die of your own stupidity’ tone when things got bad. “Breathe, ner kar’ta,” he stated, gentle, yet firm this time. “For me. Gedet’ye.”

For him?

Yeah, okay.

That changed things.

You would do anything for him.

You rolled your eyes at him as his echoed footsteps entered the crest. A wordless view on his dramatics. He was such a worry wart. A relieved sigh escaped your lips now that the suns were no longer blinding you. Sleep would come easy now. You closed your eyes when you felt something solid beneath you.

“No. Don’t close those eyes. Stay with me. Don’t close those eyes,” his mantra of a demand was a herculean task to follow, but you did. Even as he continued to repeat it. Over and over and over.

A blinding flash of pain made you cry out during his ministrations. You tried slapping him away, but your arms were pinned down. One between your side and the cold, metal wall of the Crest. The other stuck between something warm.

His voice continued to speak. At least, you think he was talking. Likely telling you what he was doing, but it was all incoherent. One word meshed into the next, forming a strange sort of babble to your ears. The sound alone, rough and modulated, kept you calm until darkness overtook you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: You guys...I’m not sure if I actually finished this. I mean, what kind of ending was that?

Mando’a:

~ Ner Kar'ta (Nair Kah-ROH-ta): my heart

~ Di'kut (DEE-koot): idiot

~ Aruetii (ah-roo-AH-tee): foreigner/outsider

~ Atin (ah-TEEN): stubborn

~ Burc'ya (BOOR-sha): friend (can be used ironically)

~ Cyar'tomade (SHAR-toe-MAH-day): fans/supporter/devotee

~ Dala (DAH-la): woman

~ Gedet'ye (geh-DET-yay): please

Pronunciations found here.

Like what you read? There’s more here, on my Masterlist!

#mandalorian #fanfic #my writing #din x reader #angst #sad #possible death #up to your interpretation #mando'a

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toru-oikawas-milkbread · 3 years ago

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A-Z NSFW Alphabet | Shinsuke Kita

Pairing: Shinsuke Kita x f!reader

Word count: 4.3K

Warnings/contents: Sex, strong language, variety of kinks, 18+

Notes: N O B O D Y can change my mind that this man is a soft-dom. I’m dying on this hill. With that being said, I hope you agree with that statement and like this post 💕

In all of my NSFW posts, all of the characters are 18+! If you would like to see my growing list of other Haikyuu boys whenever I add them, you can follow {this link} to my masterlist!

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

Kita is an aftercare god. He takes such good care of you by getting you into the shower, changing the sheets, putting your blanket in the dryer so that it’s warm when you get into bed, fluffing the pillows up, making sure that you have water on your bedside table, and showering with you if you wanted him to. He would wash your hair and back, letting you rest your head on his shoulder while the warm water slides down your bodies for a few minutes as he softly massages your shoulders. He would help you get dressed, carry you around, and hold you close while he strokes your hair and you try and sleep

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

Theirs: He likes his hands. He knows that they’re a bit rough, but they’re also large and always warm enough to warm your chilly hands. He can grope at your chest with his hands, hold your hands in his, cup your face in his hands, and be able to feel you close to him and hold you all because of his hands

Yours: He’s always really liked your breasts. He likes to see your cleavage, and don’t even get him started on when you’re wearing a shirt with no bra and he can see your nipples. He likes to watch them bounce while he’s fucking you. He also enjoys slapping them a little bit to make them bounce and shift inside of your shirt when you’re not wearing a bra. Kita also really enjoys sucking on your nipples and licking up your cleavage while he pushes them together with his hands

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

For the most part, Kita likes to cum inside of you. He doesn’t necessarily care for watching his cum slide down your legs like some of the characters, and he doesn’t really care for cumming on your stomach either. Even if the sheets are being changed, he doesn’t care for making a bigger mess, especially on your body. However, on the rare occurrence that you would slide Kita’s cock between your breasts, he would cum on your chest

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

He would really like to have sex with you at the beach. The distant sounds of the ocean crashing against the rocks, the sounds of the city at night, just the two of you alone in the sand on a blanket— kissing, feeling each other, pleasuring each other. But he’s never pursued this thought because the beach is a very public area and who knows what might happen. However, if you were to bring this up, it wouldn’t take much convincing on his end

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

You were Kita’s first ever experience. The two of you took things slow and careful, with lots of questions from him and asking for your guidance to make sure that he knew what you liked and didn’t like. He would make sure that you were okay with different things that he tried, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or put you through any pain. He talked with you beforehand to ask about some things you liked so he could hone in on those skills and learn how to make you squirm and squirt around his fingers. He has a very good memory and it didn’t take him long to perfect his skills in the bedroom because he’s very vocal with you

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He’s always loved missionary. He likes to look at you squirming beneath him and seeing the faces you make as you reach your orgasm around his cock. He likes the ability to kiss you whenever he wants. He likes looking into your eyes and being able to lean down and whisper how much he loves you in your ear. He likes being able to pull back a little bit and watch your breasts bounce along with his movements. He likes to moan in your ear and have you moaning in his while you bury your face into his shoulder. And he especially likes when you wrap your legs around him and keep his body snug against your own. Occasionally he likes to pull back and bring your legs up onto his shoulders. He likes this because he can see even more of you and he still has the ability to lean down to kiss you if he felt like it

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

Kita is somewhere between serious and humorous. He likes to make you laugh. He doesn’t want sex to be a serious thing that you can’t still enjoy each others presence in and laugh about silly things like bonking your heads even after how many times you’ve been in bed together. However there are more serious moments where the two of you stare into each others eyes, Kita’s hand holding your own down on the bed as he pushes himself inside of you, but even the serious moments are very loving. There isn’t a time of any day that you aren’t reminded that Kita truthfully and very deeply cares for you

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

Nowadays, Kita shaves it all off completely. For a long time he only trimmed it, but one day while he was in the shower he thought that if he was going to be trimming it so short, he might as well go ahead and shave it. He mainly only wanted to see what it would feel like against his clothes, and not to mention you, if he was fully shaved down, and he realized how much better it feels without the hair. He keeps himself very clean, very frequently

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

Kita is a very romantic, sweet man. He treasures you above all else, praising you with kisses pressed to each part of your body, a soft tone that makes your heart race and a gentle gaze that makes your cheeks flush hot. He never lets you go a day thinking he could love you any less today than he did yesterday, and he never makes you feel like he won’t love you the same tomorrow. Kita has never once disappointed you, and he doesn’t plan on starting now

J = Jerk off (masterbation headcanon)

If he ever needs to get off that badly that he can’t merely ignore the boner, he has no objections to taking care of the issue himself. He doesn’t like bothering you with sucking him off, however he might occasionally see if you would want to have phone sex. However there is never any pressure because he really can take care of the boner himself

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Light teasing: (Explained further below)

Praising: Kita is constantly praising you. Whether it be for how good you suck on his cock whenever he rarely says yes to you sucking him off or you’re in 69, how good you taste, how cute you are squirming for his tongue and his fingers, how cute it is that you’re so wet and ready for him, how well you take his cock, how good you feel when you’re clenching around him, etc. He also calls you many sweet things in bed. His favorite names to call you are: “Baby” and “My love,” but Kita will also call you “(His) Good girl” sometimes softly in your ear. He’ll call you one of these names while he gently caresses your cheek, telling you that you’re so pretty when you’re taking his cock inside of you

Daddy kink: He’s definitely into being called daddy, but he also wouldn’t ask for it. It was something that he didn’t know he was into until one time the two of you were having sex and it slipped out of your mouth. He wasn’t expecting it and had stopped in shock, asking you what you had just called him. You were extremely embarrassed, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the night. In that moment, he simply caressed your face and whispered soft assurances that it was okay and that he didn’t mind it, and that you could call him that if you wanted to, but it was something he grew fond of very fast

Very light dumbification: He’s only into this in the sense that he enjoys fucking you until you’re unable to think of anything beside him and how good he feels inside of you. Sometimes he’ll whisper something about how you seem mind-numb around his cock, but he wouldn’t be mean about it. His tone would be gentle as he caressed your cheek, calling you his cute little baby and asking you a question to hear you mumble out an incoherent answer. He loves it when your moaning gets messy and incoherent because then he knows that he’s done his job

Light edging: Kita doesn’t really deny you of what it is that you want and what you’re craving, but he does know when to edge you once or twice before he lets you reach your orgasm because it’s going to make it feel that much better when you do finally cum around his fingers or down into his mouth. It leaves you panting and feels much better than when he just gives it to you. Besides, he can’t lie, listening to you beg for him to let you cum on your own free will makes his cock throb

Squirting: He loves to make you squirt. He enjoys seeing how much he can make you squirt back to back. Once he got the hang of how to make you gush, he started to do it every single time that you were in bed together. He likes to edge you a couple of times and then make you squirt several times in a row. He finds it fascinating to watch, and he also knows that it feels good for you. He really likes it when you squirt around his cock because you squeeze tighter around him and it makes both of you feel good

Overstimulation: There’s nothing more that Kita loves than overstimulating you. Than hearing your moans become a sobbing, incoherent mess. Than feeling your pussy clenching and gushing around his cock until you have nothing left to give him. Than feeling your nails in his back until your fingers are numb and there’s red scratch marks on his skin. Than kissing you sloppily until you’re unable to focus on the kiss and get too lost in how good it feels. Than having you fall asleep quickly in his arms afterwards because you’re exhausted, clean, and satisfied— just like he always intends on leaving you after sex

Clothes: Kita loves to fuck you while you’re wearing his shirts. He thinks that you look so cute— so small in his large shirts, especially the dress shirts that he has. He can leave it unbuttoned on you, this way he can watch your breasts bounce while he’s inside of you and still have the satisfaction of you wearing his shirt. It’s a little reassurance that you’re all his and his alone, especially in the moment. Because your mind isn’t anywhere but him, and he knows that— and in return his mind isn’t anywhere but you

Soft dom: He is a very gentle man. Everything that he does, he does it gently with you. He wouldn’t ever want to hurt you more than how he stretches you out, and when it comes to thoughts of degrading you or calling you a whore, he doesn’t get off. He’s gentle, soft, and loving. Even when it hurts, he tries to take things slow and gentle with you, being as caring as he’s always been. He’s a sweetheart and he loves to praise you. He likes to see you smile when the two of you are in bed, and hearing your laughter only makes it better. He wouldn’t get off to being mean to you or hurting you in any way

Service dom: Kita gets off on getting you off. He wouldn’t care much for you sucking his cock, instead wanting to bury his face between your legs and making you squirm and moan beneath his touch for hours. He would do anything that you liked, within reason. He wants to make you as happy as he can. You would never leave that bedroom unsatisfied— that he makes damn sure of

Somno (sex on a sleeping/sleepy person): It isn’t the most frequent occurrence, but sometimes Kita likes to rub your clit or finger you gently while you’re sleeping to hear your sleepy moans. He would also love to wake you up on the weekend mornings with his face already between your legs. He usually only does it on the weekends, but if you happened to be having a wet dream on a weeknight, sometimes he can’t help himself from pressing a few kisses along your neck and starting to finger you— especially if you were to moan his name in your sleep

Lactophilia: I think that if you had Kita’s baby, he wouldn’t mind at all still sucking on your nipples while you were breastfeeding. He would massage your breasts for you when they were especially tender, watching some milk drip from your nipples and being fascinated by the sight. He’d be curious about how it tasted and ask you if he could taste it, and it just became something that happened sometimes. When you’re in missionary and breastfeeding, he would play with your nipples to make some milk squirt from them

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

#1: Kita likes to have sex in the bedroom above all else. It’s comfortable, close to the bathroom, warm, and he likes to keep pillows beneath your head while the two of you are having sex so that he knows you’re nice and comfortable. He would never let your head hit the wall more than once, if that. He’s a very observant man, and if he thinks that you’re too close to the wall, he’ll put a pillow behind your head for extra assurance that you don’t bonk your head

#2: Kita really likes shower sex. It isn’t as frequent nor would he try and have sex with you every single time that the two of you showered together, but say that the two of you were to finish in the bedroom but you were both willing to go a little longer, he would have no objections to fucking you against the wall. Kita would get down on his knees and eat you out while the warm water ran down your body, and he would actually really like it when you suck on his cock in the shower sometimes

M = Motivation (what turns them on/gets them going?)

Knowing that you’re feeling good is what makes this service dom happy. It’s all he really needs to keep going, hearing your moans and having you tell him that it feels good drives him wild. He loves it when you’re more vocal because it’s extra assurance that you don’t feel pressured into having sex with him— especially when he’s the one who initiates it. He likes to make you squirm beneath him, often times reaching down and rubbing at your clit if you were in the right position

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

Kita wouldn’t do anything too harsh. Very gently degrading you by calling you a slut or a whore (only if you asked him to) would be the worst that he would do. Kita is not into the idea of hurting you, so even if you were into it, he wouldn’t slap you and only gently slap your ass sometimes— but it’s a rare occurrence because in the moment he isn’t thinking about wanting to slap you

O = Oral (preferences in giving/receiving, skill, etc.)

He is very good at oral and he loves to do it. He likes to suck on your clit and finger you until you’re squirting around his fingers and soaking the bed. He also enjoys teasing you with his tongue, eyeing you as he laps at your entrance and occasionally pushing his tongue inside of you. But his favorite thing to do would be edging you once while he’s between your legs and then making you squirt a bunch. He likes it when you pull on his hair and tighten your legs around his head before you reach your orgasm. Another thing that Kita loves is when you sit on his face— not to suck his cock, but so that he can suck on your clit and massage your breasts while he watches your face

It isn’t very important to him if you were to suck his cock or not. He wouldn’t ask for it, and often times would turn you down if you were to ask him if he wanted you to suck it. He’s all about pleasing you, however if you were to not ask and get between his legs, he wouldn’t turn you down. He would hold your hair back so he could look at you, softly moaning and telling you that it feels so good. He really likes how warm your mouth is around his cock, but he can’t wait to get back to pleasuring you again. A good option for him is 69 so that you can suck on his cock while he eats you out, but it’s another thing he often times turns down and tells you to turn around when you sit on his face and go to lean down. He would really like to feel your breasts against his body while he eats you out though

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

He always takes it slow and gentle with you. He gives you as long as you need to adjust when he’s inside of you, making sure that you’re comfortable with the position and on the bed before he starts to slowly move inside of you when you tell him that he can. He makes sure that you’re wet enough and he always has lube on hand to make things easier if he’s struggling to get you to a point he deems worthy. He doesn’t want to hurt you in any way, so he takes things very slow and he’s always very sweet

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

Kita is not really a fan of quickies. He likes to pleasure you, he likes to get you soaked and ready for him. He doesn’t like to strip off all of your clothes and push himself inside of you right away, he likes to take things slow. He likes to slowly undress you and occasionally slide his own shirt onto you. He likes to kiss and suck on your neck teasingly while he gently rubs at your clit to make you wet. He likes to take his time, he doesn’t like feeling rushed when it comes to pleasing you. However, something he would make an exception for would be if you were in the kitchen after the two of you had already been touching each other on the sofa. He would not mind slowly fucking you while you leaned over the counter while dinner cooked

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

He might be willing to try a few new things with you, though nothing too extreme, and if either of you weren’t comfortable with the idea, it’s always easily considered dropped. When the two of you are trying new things, he’s always very vocal. Talking to you and making sure that you’re doing okay, that it isn’t hurting you and that you’re liking it so far. If he senses that you’re uncomfortable, he would stop and ask if you were okay immediately instead of waiting it out to see if you were just adjusting to the new sensation. Most of the time, the two of you stick to what you know

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

Kita’s stamina is pretty impressive. He can go about 3-4 rounds depending on the night, eating you out between rounds to give himself a break and to continue pleasuring you until you were an overstimulated mess around him. If you were really in the mood and weren’t done, he could push himself and go 5-6 rounds, but afterwards he would be dead exhausted, and typically the 5th or 6th round happens in the shower so the two of you can get a head start on getting clean

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

He isn’t really big on the idea of using things in the bedroom. He likes the way things are— getting you off with his fingers and tongue. He’s proud of the way that he can make you gush around his fingers, and dare he say that it’s given him a bit of an ego. He doesn’t really want the help of a vibrator to make you gush. He thinks he can do it just fine on his own

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Kita doesn’t tease you much, only edging you once or twice. He likes to give you what you want. Making you happy makes him happy, it’s always been that way. However he thinks that it is adorable when you beg for him because you don’t have to and he’s going to give you what you want even if you demand it. He wouldn’t stop you from begging if that’s what you wanted to do, but he wouldn’t make you either

V = Volume (how loud are they? What sounds do they make?)

Kita is very vocal. His moans are typically soft and right by your ear. He’ll give a few scattered grunts and soft groans, though his moans are pretty low and from the back of his throat. His sounds are very consistent in the way that even when he’s cumming he doesn’t get too much louder and his moans don’t get high or whiny. He also talks to you a lot, making sure you’re feeling good, praising you, etc. He likes to keep decently quiet so that he can hear you because it’s something that both gets him off and helps him know that he’s doing good for you

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

Kita is a big cuddler. He loves to curl up with you on a rainy day with a good book and just read together. He likes to hold you close every single night in bed. After dinner, the thing that he’s most excited for is to curl up with you on the sofa and watch something or just talk about your separate days. He likes to lay on his back at night and have you laying on your side with one of your legs around his waist, his hand on your thigh and your hand on his chest, softly tracing patterns over his night shirt before you fall asleep with your hand flat on his chest. You relax him after long, stressful days and he only hopes he does the same for you

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

Kita’s dick is pretty thick and it stretches you out well. His cock is around 6.6 inches long. Kita is a very clean man, shaving and taking care of himself to make sure that he smells fresh not only for you, but for himself as well. He shaves his balls quite frequently as well. He is also pretty healthy, so his cum wouldn’t have a distinctly gross taste to it, and because it’s so rare that you really get that much in your mouth, it always shocks you by being sort of sweet. Kita is good with his cock, knowing just how deep to push it inside of you at what pace to make you lose your mind around him

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

His sex drive truthfully isn’t very high. He would have sex with you whenever you asked, however he would only initiate it maybe once or twice a week. Both because he loves to simply curl up with you and enjoy a nice quiet night together where you talk to each other about your new interests and how each others separate days were, but also because he doesn’t want you to think that he’s only in this for your body. As much as he does love having sex with you and he loves pleasuring you, Kita would never want you to feel like anything less than the love of his life and more of a sex object

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t fall asleep until you do. He has no trouble staying awake if you’re struggling, and he’ll do anything he can to help you out. Whether that be getting a small snack because you’re hungry, making you some tea, humming to you and softly rubbing your back while you curled up in his warm arms, or getting up with you to make some tea to help you sleep. He’d whisper sweet words about how much he loves you, sometimes listing off things he loves the most about you before you fall asleep. He’ll also massage your head to help you sleep if you wanted him to, and he loves to hold hands while you’re sleeping together

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shemarmooresfedora · 4 years ago

Text

Sugary Sweet Apologies

Summary: You and Reid never really got along but when he saves your life, you decide to be the bigger person and thank him and hopefully start over. Unfortunately, it isn’t that easy.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: light to mild angst with fluffy ending, swearing, spencer reid being an annoying bitch, brief mentions of case stuff (if you watch cm, you should be fine)

A/N: this is for @willowrose99 ‘s 1 year anniversary on tumblr writing challenge!! congrats! i literally wrote and edited this whole thing in less than one day because i got so excited, anyways i hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1.8k

“Reid and Y/L/N, go to David Whitney’s house. He was the therapist of two of the three victims. He could have some insight into the victimology and know of any overlap between them. He has no criminal record of past aggressive behavior but we can’t rule him out as a suspect entirely,” Hotch stated.

“Hotch, you stuck me with her yesterday for the geographical profiling. Send Prentiss with her instead,” Spencer whined.

“I don’t mind going with Y/L/N. She is a great partner in the field,” Emily glared at Spencer.

“No. Reid, go with Y/L/N or be taken off this case. I’m a unit chief, not an elementary school teacher. I don’t have time for temper tantrums,” Hotch chided.

“Fine,” Spencer grumbled as you grabbed the keys to an SUV.

You don’t know what it was but ever since you started at the BAU four months ago, Spencer had never liked you which resulted in you disliking him as well. Everyone else on the team was super friendly and welcoming but Reid always was jabbing snarky remarks your way like “I don’t have time to explain it to you” or “This was in the FBI handbook. God, you need more training.”

Luckily, the others were quick to defend you. Once Garcia even heard him snip at you over the phone and as soon as you all got off the elevator after the case, Reid was being dragged by his ear into Garcia’s lair with him going “ow ow ow” behind her. So, you didn’t really pay much mind to him because you could deal with one annoying know-it-all to have such an amazing job with great coworkers minus the one.

“Look, I’m not happy about this either,” you said as you climbed into the driver’s side of the SUV, “But at least I’m not being a whiny bitch about it and being rude to the other person’s face.”

“Oh wow, I’m so sorry that I hurt your feelings,” Spencer mocked.

“Fuck you, Reid,” you shook your head.

David Whitney was on edge the second you arrived and showed him your badges. He was bouncing his leg up and down, he couldn’t sit still, and he kept avoiding eye contact.

He knew way too much about the other victim that wasn’t even one of his clients but you didn’t have anything solid on him. His house seemed very neat so you doubted he kept anything incriminating here. Organized offenders usually have a secondary location. So, you decided to push his buttons a little.

“I mean blitz attacks, leaving the bodies on the side of dirt roads,” you combed through the crime scene photos, “This guy was a real coward.”

Spencer picked up on what you were trying to do and his eyes widened, he was subtly shaking his head and mouthing “no”.

“Excuse me?” David asked.

“Well, I’m just saying a real man wouldn’t cower in the bushes and blindside a woman. He must not be very strong,” you stated, “He probably can’t even get it up.”

Before you even had time to react, David pulled out a switchblade knife from inside the couch cushions and put you in a chokehold, pressing the cool metal up to your throat. You closed your eyes tightly.

“David, you don’t have to do this,” Spencer stood with his gun pointed at you both.

“This bitch insulted me,” he snarled.

“She insults me too. That doesn’t make you any less of a man,” Spencer spoke carefully, “Just put the knife down and I’ll escort you out.”

David sighed, dropping the knife to the floor and releasing you.

Spencer put David in handcuffs and walked him outside as reinforcements came running in.

“Are you okay, Y/L/N?” Hotch asked.

“Yep, a little shaken up but fine. Thank you,” you stood.

“Let’s get you to the medics,” Morgan grabbed your arm to support you as you walked over to the ambulance.

Spencer never checked on you.

You knew your decision in the field was a little rash and you wanted to thank Spencer for essentially saving your life.

However, there was no way in hell you could verbally get out an apology while staring at his smug face, but you could bake. You settled on a note tucked inside a tupperware container of your Grandma’s special recipe of chocolate chip cookies. It was a good peace offering, maybe even a chance to start fresh.

During your lunch break, you took the tupperware from your desk drawer and approached the break room where Reid had entered about 5 minutes ago.

“I’m just saying I could not have been more clear in my message to her that it was too dangerous but of course, Y/L/N didn’t listen cause Y/L/N is going to do whatever she feels like,” Spencer stirred his coffee.

No one had noticed you standing in the doorway yet.

“Reid, you’ve got to be nicer to her. She earned her spot here just like the rest of us,” Emily defended you.

“Did she though? How much do we really know about her? She couldn’t even tell me how many pages the FBI protocol manual was,” Spencer said.

“That’s not a normal thing people know,” Morgan retorted.

“Well, I’m just saying the team was perfectly fine before her and it would probably be better off if she left,” Reid finished.

Garcia looked up from her yogurt to see you standing there, “Oh, Y/N”.

Spencer turned around in his chair as you angrily stormed up to him.

“Here’s your cookies, asshole,” you seethed, grabbing the note from inside and crumpling it up into a little ball and tossing it into the trash.

“Y/N!” Emily called after you but you were already gone.

The whole team glared at Spencer and picked up their lunches, leaving him alone at the table.

Spencer retrieved the balled up paper from the trash, having to fish through Rossi’s week old pasta and Anderson’s half eaten tuna fish sandwich.

Dear Reid,

Thank you for saving my life, I guess. These are my Grandma’s secret recipe for chocolate chip cookies so I hope you enjoy. I think we got off on the wrong foot and I would like to start over. I think cases would be a lot less miserable for everyone if we got along.

Thanks again,

Y/L/N

Spencer, you’re such an idiot, he thought to himself.

You never came back after your lunch break ended and Derek made Spencer go tell Hotch why it’s his fault you were missing the rest of the day.

He tried to call you multiple times but they always rang out before going to voicemail.

Spencer hesitantly knocked on Penelope’s door at the end of the day.

“Is she okay?” he asked softly.

“You don’t get to ask that as the person who hurt her in the first place. Also, she told me to tell you that don’t you dare go to her apartment to ‘check on her’. I’m headed over there myself actually,” Penelope collected her things and shut off her monitors.

“Will you at least tell her I’m really sorry?” Spencer followed her to the elevator.

“Absolutely not. I’m not doing any apologizing on your behalf,” Penelope huffed as the elevators shut.

You came in the next morning, keeping your head down. You grabbed a pen from your cup holder and the first folder on your stack before getting to work.

You were on the second page of the file when your clean, empty tupperware was placed in front of you plus another baking dish with aluminum foil over the top.

You glanced up to see Spencer guiltily looking down at you and you returned your eyes back to the file.

“I-I made you cinnamon rolls,” Spencer broke the silence.

“Are they poisoned?” you asked, not sparing him another glance.

“No, they’re not poisoned,” he assured you.

“I’m just saying how can I trust you as you have made it very apparent you would like me off this team.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Spencer was quick to reply.

“Then why the hell did you say it, Reid?” you slammed your pen down.

You grabbed your empty coffee mug and briskly walked to the break room but unfortunately, Spencer was right behind you.

“I didn’t eat any of your cookies by the way. Not that I didn’t want to but I felt like I didn’t deserve them so I handed them out to everyone else.”

“Oh how kind, taking credit for my work,” you tried to close the door in his face.

“I told them that they were from you,” Spencer insisted.

You rolled your eyes as Spencer grabbed the coffee pot before you could get to it, pouring your mug of coffee for you.

“What do you want from me, Reid?” you asked defeatedly.

“I want you to try a cinnamon roll and let me explain.”

“Fine but only because I didn’t have breakfast yet and I want to critique your baking skills,” you huffed, walking back to your desk.

Spencer gingerly placed one of the sticky frosting-coated rolls on a napkin and pushed it towards you. You tentatively bit into it. Damn it, it was actually delicious.

“It’s okay,” you understated.

You knew Spencer hardly ever used his kitchen let alone be up baking all night. He even chose a recipe that required more time and effort because the yeast dough would have to rise for a few hours.

“That’s good. The first batch didn’t come out as great...or the second,” he smiled softly.

“Well, the floor is all yours, Reid. Please explain to me why you talk shit about me to my co-workers when I’m in the other room,” you leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms.

Spencer muttered something incoherent.

“I have to hear the apology, you know,” you said, enjoying watching him uncomfortable.

“You’re intimidating to me because you’re intelligent, beautiful, and courageous. I think I was a little jealous that my spotlight as the ‘kid’ of the BAU was coming to an end so I said some harsh, completely untrue things and I’m sincerely sorry.”

“Oh my god,” you smirked, “Hotch was right, you are an elementary school kid.”

“In what way?” he curiously asked.

“You like me like like like me. You don’t know how to talk to the girl so you pull her pigtails on the playground,” you giggled.

“I take it back. You’re a horrible profiler,” Spencer was getting up from his seat, completely flustered.

“Awww,” you were laughing at Spencer’s bright red face as he went to go to the break room to fill his coffee mug.

When he got back to his desk, a sticky note was placed front and center.

In typical elementary school fashion…

Will you go get coffee with me?

Check:

Yes

Spencer smiled before picking up his pen and checking one of the boxes, crumpling the sticky note up into a ball and throwing it over to your desk.

“Good choice. See you Saturday at 9 at the cafe down the street,” you grinned.

“It’s a date,” he smiled.

#willsannievent #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer x reader #reid x reader #spencer reid #cm fanfic #criminal minds

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elysianslove · 4 years ago

Text

secret relationship; tsukishima kei, tanaka ryūnosuke, yamamoto taketora

requested by anon(s); their respective teams finding out about their relationships

pairings; tsukishima kei x reader, tanaka ryūnosuke x fem!reader, yamamoto taketora x fem karasuno manager!reader

genre; fluff

warnings; none! (maybe a few curse words)

note; i’m so sorry tsukki’s so much longer than the other two oh my

tsukishima kei

━━ in your defense, neither of you had heard the blaring alarm, and supposedly, no one else in his home had either. after having unintentionally lost track of time with your boyfriend the night prior that it had gotten a little too late for you to head home safely, you’d agreed to kei’s suggestion to spend the night, and fell asleep in his arms. that wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary. you couldn’t count on ten fingers the nights you’d spent at his home, waking up with your limbs tangled with his, despite the fact that he insisted cuddling was his least favorite thing to do. missing the alarm is what’s unusual. kei’s not the heaviest of sleepers, evident in the way he nearly tramples you every night, suffocating you to him and restricting your movements. the fact that he hadn’t heard it, and had left to ring annoyingly loud until it gave up was confusing enough.

this wouldn’t pose as much of an issue if it weren’t for your situation. on the contrary, really; you loved nothing more than waking up at the hour you desire, kei still sound asleep by you. he always looked a lot calmer, a lot less tense, his mind a little quieter. his arms were caging you in, giving you enough freedom to tilt your head back and admire him, as his chest rose and fell gently, as his eyes fluttered lightly with the remnants of a dream. in the quiet of his room, you wondered what those golden irises could see.

but of course, a sleepy, fuzzy, lovesick brain wasn’t a luxury for long, and the blurriness began to slip away, just as reality began catching up. your mind began to process the time that the clock that hung opposite you read (too late in the afternoon), then the day of the week (sunday, practice day), then, the cherry on top of the cake — the sound of heavy footsteps, too many footsteps, loud, familiar voices. and finally, the fact that you weren’t supposed to be where you were: in kei’s bed.

you’d encountered his — friends on countless occasions, just never as his significant other. at first, it had left you slightly insecure, wondering if kei was somehow ashamed of you, embarrassed to be tied to you. eventually, however, you’d figured that it hadn’t been shame or embarrassment. he’s just a private person, and if anything, it’s possessiveness: the desire to keep you and all that you are to himself. not that he’d ever have to share once you were exclusive to his teammates, but it’s more that he also wants the idea and thought of you secret. he wants to luxury of calling you his to be private, just something he can enjoy. and maybe you liked the thrill of it too, seeing as you’d agreed, for the time being. you liked the rushed kisses in fear of getting caught, and the secret glances he’d offer you during school hours, and the way he held your hand beneath the table for no one but you to know about. you liked it, and you respected his wishes.

when the footsteps drew closer, you realized just how screwed you are, and it would mean a lot worse for you to be caught slipping away through the window than to be caught in bed, so you lean up, hugging yourself tighter to him, and bring your lips by kei’s ear. shaking him slightly, you whisper, “baby, wake up. the boys are here.”

kei rustles around, blinking slightly, before huffing and wrapping his arms tighter around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, mumbling incoherently.

you stifle a laugh at his clingy reaction, wishing that this was somehow being recorded. with laughter behind your tone, you repeat your words, shaking him harsher. “kei,” you drawl, whining. “kei, we’re gonna get caught.”

he only mumbles again, breath hot on your neck.

“tsukki! tsukki!”

shit, nishinoya and tanaka were also here?

“kei, baby, you are going to be mortified when you wake up,” you warn, but nonetheless, you continue to hold him to you, bringing a hand up to his hair and sighing. “don’t kick me for trying to warn you.”

the door bursts open, followed by tanaka’s sing-song voice calling out for your boyfriend. he leads the way into the bedroom, head high and eyes closed, as him and three of kei’s teammates march in. he’s oblivious to your head peeking out beneath the crook of kei’s neck, until his eyes open, his hands faltering on his hips as he finally registers your face.

you grin up at him, fingers waving at him in greeting. “hey,” you call out cheekily.

tanaka freezes, head cocking to the side as he’s pushed away while the other three file in. as soon as nishinoya notices you, he clamps his hand over his mouth, his mouth wide with laughter and eyes lost in shock. yamaguchi’s face is tinted red, glance frozen at you, while sugawara, ever the sadist, laughs freely and loudly.

“so this is why he’s late?” tanaka yells in a hushed tone.

sugawara, still laughing, grabs his phone from his jacket’s pocket, switching to the camera app quickly and lifting it up to snap a photo. you throw up a peace sign.

“tsukki, you ass!” nishinoya shouts, leaping quickly onto the bed, forcing you and kei to shift suddenly. “get up, get up, get the fuck up!”

the boy in your arms groans, his eyes still shut tightly as he finally loosens his hold on you, rolling onto his back. a hand is lifted up to his face as he rubs away the sleep in his eyes, while nishinoya positions himself to stand directly above him, feet on either side of his hips as he leans down, peering straight at his face.

kei’s eyes finally open, hand falling to his side in search of yours as it always does, before he looks up, and spots nishinoya sporting the cheekiest of expressions. he sighs in preparation of the teasing to come, and exhales sharply.

“shit.”

sugawara is yet to stop laughing.

tanaka ryūnosuke

━━ “ryu, you’re late to practice.”

the boy in question shushes you quietly, hugging you tighter to him as he whispers out, “five more minutes,” lips brushing against the nape of your neck, down to your shoulder blades. your back is pressed to his bare chest, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist. you rest a hand on that arm, stroking it gently as you try to wake him up.

with how the boys had been progressing with volleyball, practice hours had increased, and therefore quality time with ryu had decreased. there was a little voice in the back of your head egging him on, urging you to cuddle back into him and let him nuzzle into you more, the part of you that missed him, missed all of him. there was a more logical side of you that knew better, that acknowledged all the work and effort he’d put to get where he is today, and that didn’t want him to miss out any opportunity to grow, or to put all that effort to waste. so you sigh, gripping at his forearm tightly as you try to get away.

“come on, babe,” you whine, attempting desperately to try and get away from him.

“woah, ryu, you got a girl with you or something?”

you freeze. ryu freezes. the world stops.

that had definitely been nishinoya’s voice, there was no doubt about that. and it isn’t like the both of you had kept your relationship a secret from your mutual friends deliberately. it had just never came up in conversation. maybe they were just blind, honestly. there had been no hiding it: you held hands, you hugged him tight after every win, he walked you home after evening practice after school, you hung out during school all the time. so really, it isn’t your fault that no one put two and two together.

you’d just hoped it wouldn’t be in such a comprising situation. you don’t even have pants on.

“holy shit, you do— what the fuck!” your boyfriend’s teammates scream is piercing, and eardrum shattering. you wince at the sound, fingers tightening around ryu’s arm. once nishinoya processes what he’s seen, and who he’s seen, he storms outside of the bedroom, leaving the door ajar behind him, allowing you to listen in on his yells.

somehow, ryu’s still sleeping.

“you guys are not going to believe what i just saw,” you hear nishinoya calling out and — holy shit, was the whole team here? was he really that late to practice?

you manage to break free of ryu’s unrelenting grasp just as the footsteps group by your boyfriend’s bedroom door. they all walk in as you try and fix your bed hair, smiling weakly as one by one, they fill up the room. raising a hand, you sheepishly smile and wave, calling out a low, “morning everyone.”

looking to your left, you find ryu still sleeping. with the way hinata’s bouncing over to where the two of you lay, you doubt it’ll be for long. secret was meant to be outed at some point, wasn’t it?

yamamoto taketora

━━ as you and your team finally arrive at your destination, nekoma high, the bus comes to a stop, parking off to the side. immediately, the boys are jumping from their seats, eager to stretch their limbs and greet their long distance friends. you, kiyoko and yachi take your time in comparison to them, gathering all your things, stretching yourselves out. yachi and kiyoko are first to leave between the three of you, working on keeping your teammates in check and making sure none drift off, while you stay behind, checking in on the bus to make sure nobody left anything behind (which you’re glad you always do, because both hinata and kageyama had forgotten their phones). stepping off the bus, you raise your arms up in a stretch, bones cracking satisfyingly. you squint up at the sun as you sigh, hand coming up to shield yourself from it.

“shōyō, kags!” you call out, walking up to the group of boys huddled around each other, both nekoma and karasuno. “forget anything?” you place their phones in either hand, giving them playfully disapproving looks as they shamefully take it from you, red dusting their cheeks and a low sorry spilling from their lips. your expression twists into a cheerful one, and you wave them off.

as the herd of people begins to move, you plan on following, until you hear your name yelled out loudly, in a very distinct, familiar voice. excitement overtaking you, you turn the other way, dropping your bag to the ground and jumping into the awaiting of your arms of your long distance boyfriend.

“tora baby, i missed you!” you squeal, arms wrapping tight around his neck and legs around his waist, ankles hooked as he rocks you from side to side. he hugs you with just as much earnest, burying his face in your neck gratefully.

he hums by your ear, pressing a wet kiss to your neck as he says, “missed you more. more than you could ever imagine.”

you chuckle lightly to yourself, lifting your head up and leaning back to glance at him. “sap,” you tease, tilting your head closer.

“hey, you were the one that jumped into my arms,” he argues.

you quirk an eyebrow. “you were the one that yelled out my name and ran at me,” you retort. “like we’re in some sort of rom-com.” you’re rolling your eyes, but your heart’s beating unsteadily at the way he presses a chaste kiss to your lips. unwilling to continue your banter, having missed him, and missed kissing him too much to do so, you lift a hand to the nape of his neck and push his lips closer to yours, finally kissing him properly.

you’re not able to enjoy it for long, feeling a hand grab at the collar of your jacket on the back of your neck. it pulls at you until you break from the kiss, until you’re forced out of your boyfriend’s arms, and stumbling onto the ground back on your feet.

“have some decorum, manager,” daichi teases, and you roll your eyes, reaching out again for taketora.

he takes you into his arms easily, letting you rest your head on his chest, and wrapping your arms around his waist. “he’s just jealous that we’re in love,” he jokes, and you huff out a laugh, allowing him to steer you away from the small crowd, and towards the gym, leaving your boys and his teammates behind.

“am i the only one that’s like, shocked?” ennoshita breaks the silence.

“really? i’m more heartbroken,” nishinoya joins in, earning a smack from daichi.

tanaka breathes in steadily. “kiyoko-san, please don’t be next,” he pleads.

“tanaka-san, please stop being dramatic.”

#haikyuu x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukki x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tanaka x reader #tanaka ryunosuke x reader #yamamoto x reader #yamamoto taketora x reader

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bakugosbratx · 4 years ago

Note

Hiiii! CONGRATS on your milestone! You really deserve them and many more! I saw that request were open and would like to request some noncon/yandere Bakugou where if the reader doesn't cum in said time he will let her go and if she does he claims every single hole? Feel free to sprinkle in bdsm I like it all and I'm a masochist ^^

Warning: 18+ content. Sexual intercourse, masturbation, sex toy(s), cursing, yandere tendencies, abuse, noncon, dubcon, degrading, punishment, overstimulation, breeding kink, etc.

Check out my other works here

A/N: Hello! Thank you so much. I love this idea. Yandere is one of my favorite things to write along with bdsm. I’ve actually been thinking of doing a personal one shot like this so I’m happy you requested it. Hopefully it meets what you’re looking for.

Words: 2,605

You thought you were so slick, masturbating while the pro-hero was at work. You thought you were so clever buying that vibrator online. It was hidden inside a stuffed animal so when Katsuki glanced over your purchase before hitting submit, he never noticed. He thought it was just another stupid stuffed animal you wanted for your collection.

You kept the toy hidden inside the bear, but once Katsuki left, you unzipped the back to pull out the pleasure device. The amount of orgasms and cum you produced was more than you have in months. This was going to be your little secret and Katsuki will never even think to look. Except, you seem to not have noticed Katsuki had cameras. They are hidden, of course, but they are there.

They saw everything and so did Katsuki.

You’re used to Katsuki coming home in a mood when he had a long day at work and honestly, Katsuki could expect the same out of you. So, when Katsuki arrived home with his usual attitude, you didn’t notice.

“Y/N,” he called as he closed the front door behind him. His work boots were already off and resting by the couch along with his gauntlets, mask, gloves, and any other armor. You jogged over to him, a smile on your face as you approached the man.

“Welcome home, Katsuki!” You greet with enthusiasm, wrapping your arms around his neck and a soft kiss on the cheek. This was no different than your normal act you put on. Katsuki trained you to act this way, after all.

Katsuki’s hands rested on your plump ass, his red eyes clearly not showing the same amount of enthusiasm you held. When your irises met his, your smile dropped into a concern frown.

“Been good while I was away?” He asked as usual.

You nodded, “yes, sir.”

“Is that a lie?” Katsuki interrogated, raising an eyebrow. You started to sweat and tremble within his hold. Sadly, he noticed.

“No, not at all.” You managed to utter out. A little too quick for your own good.

Katsuki chuckled scornfully. “Really? Because,” his fingers reached into the front of your pants to swipe your delicate pussy. You started to become flustered as he pulled out his slick covered fingers, clicking his tongue at his confirmed suspicion. “You’re one wet little girl.”

“I-I,” you stammered, tears welling in your scared eyes. You mentally cursed yourself for not keeping track of the time. You were enjoying time with your new toy when you heard the door unlock and Katsuki call your name. Your whole core is a slick covered mess and Katsuki knows about it.

“Bedroom,” he delivers a hard slap to your ass with one hand while pointing towards the hall with the other, “Now.”

Not pushing your luck, you did as your told. Katsuki was closely behind you, his dark crimson eyes glaring at the back of your skull. You should have known better than to think you were going to get away with this. Now, you have to suffer through whatever punishment Katsuki feelings like handing out tonight.

Walking inside the bedroom, Katsuki examined the room. The only thing out of place was the soaked gray towel laying on the wooden bed frame. You did not have time to hide it. You could lie about the towel, the vibrator? Not so much.

“I-I’m sorry, K-Katsuki.” You whined as he grabbed the towel. He shook his head.

“I’m sure you are. Strip.” He ordered. You did exactly that.

You stood still, the air hitting your soaked cunt. Goosebumps arises on your arms and you shiver slightly. Katsuki eyes your slick covered pussy and thighs.

“Bend over the bed, slut.” Katsuki demands, pointing towards the bed. Tears are streaming down your face as you do as your told. He spreads your legs apart more so your cunt can weep some more. Using the soaked towel, he cleans you up. You let out pathetic apologies and whimpers, but this did not make Katsuki any less angry.

“I’m sorry, Katsuki.” You repeat with a sniffle, hoping he will show you some mercy when he punishes you. You both know he is a merciless man, though. Your apologies are useless.

Giving your ass another hard slap like earlier, you let out a yelp. “Stand up.” Katsuki orders. As expected, you listen. Katsuki retrieves a dry towel from the bathroom and lay it down on the bed. Your heart is racing and you are clearly nervous.

“Lay down on your back.”

You lay down on your back. Katsuki grabbed your wrist and tied rope around it then proceed to attach it to the bedpost. He did the same action with each limb so you are spread eagle on the bed. So many questions raced through your mind. You didn’t dare ask what his cruel mind wanted to do to your exposed body, but his devious smirk and invading gaze did not help you draw good conclusions.

You were too busy in your thoughts that you didn’t notice Katsuki retrieving your teal vibrator. Your eyes grew wide as he shake it in front of your face. All the dots are connecting and now you understand why he is so mad.

“Look familiar?” He chuckled. “Thought you would really get away with it, didn’t you? I’ve done told you I see everything.”

“Katsuki—“

“Shut the fuck up, Y/N. I don’t want to hear your bullshit excuses and pathetic apologies for the rest of the night. You’ve done lied to me more than once. I need to teach your lying ass a lesson.” Katsuki scolds.

Turning the sex toy on the highest setting possible, he lays the vibrator on your sensitive clit. You automatically moan and sob. Katsuki snickers.

“Such a selfish whore. Always want your pussy pleased, but never want to pleasure me in return.” He growls them walks closer to you and grabs your chin so you are forced to meet his gaze. “That changes today. I’ll make you a deal. You don’t cum within,” he gazed at his Rolex then back at you,” ten minutes, I’ll let your ass go. If you cum, though, you are stuck with me for good and I’m going to stuff every hole you got. Deal?”

Not giving you much of an option, you nod. You so desperately want to escape Katsuki. You miss normalcy. You miss your friends and family. You miss the freedoms of being a normal human being. This is your ticket out, you better take it.

Gently slapping your cheek, he smirks. “I’ll come back to check on you in a bit. Have fun, cum loving slut. I’ll have fun stuffing you later.”

You watched as Katsuki left the room. Your moans filled the empty space and your pulsating cunt is already begging for dear release. You struggle against the restraints, panting and whining. You wanted out. Katsuki did not tie the rope gently at all. Even if you were strong, these restraints would be hard to escape from.

What was once enjoyable is now being used as punishment. Regrets seep in. You have already overstimulated your poor pussy today. You are exhausted and all you wanted to do is rest, but the loud vibrations are preventing you from doing so. You attempted to withhold your cum. You wanted to so badly. Not only for a chance of freedom, but you will be dammed if Katsuki fills your holes. You did not want that man’s filthy hands anywhere near you let alone his erected cock.

You did your best to wiggle the device off of your clit, but it was no use as an orgasm arise. Gasp escaped your lips as your pussy cried. Your cum covered your cunt, vibratory, and even squirted onto the bed. You began to feel flustered, but your punishment was not over with. You have several more minutes left and Katsuki does not plan on coming in a minute too early. You will be covered in your own arousal by the time he arrives.

Just like he wanted.

You reached your climax again and again, leaving the towel, sex toy, cunt, and thighs soaked. You’re sweating, panting, and out of moans to release. Another orgasm overcame you when Katsuki walked in. A smug grin was plastered on his face as he leaned against the doorframe, watching you meet your next high. This made it even worse.

“I came just in time. I get to see you be a filthy slut in person.” Katsuki teased. You wanted to glare at him, but your eyes are rolling back and any insult came out as incoherent babbles. Your pussy released more cum much to your dismay and Katsuki’s enjoyment. Embarrassment washed over you as Katsuki came over to pick on you some more.

“You done squirtin’ yet?” He snickered. “You soaked the whole damn bed.”

“Katsuki, please,” you whine and struggle against the restraints, “make it stop.”

“Aw, is someone going to cum again, isn’t she?” Katsuki coo’s, faux sympathy clear in his tone. You shake your head no, but by your lewd faces, he can tell your close again. He glances at your whimpering pussy then back at you. “Yeah, you are. Go ‘head and cum for me. I know you got plenty in there.”

You don’t even have the energy to protest anymore. Any fight you have left has vanished as you release, closing your eyes in the process. Katsuki was sure to watch every moment of it, too.

Katsuki removed the vibrator, turning it off. You let out a sigh of relief, but that relief is short lived once you remember the deal. Katsuki is not going to wait until you are ready to be quote-on-quote ‘stuffed.’ No, he is a man with needs that you agreed to meet if you failed your part. You were doomed from the start, in all honesty. There was no way you were going to succeed and you both knew that.

You were untied, sitting up on the towel. You did not enjoy sitting in your pool of cum, but as usual, you have no say in the matter. Your eyes never left Katsuki as he put back the items. Before putting the sex toy away, he looked at you with the slick covered device in his hand.

“We’re keeping this for future use.” Katsuki smirked. You sigh, regretting even buying the damn thing to begin with. It was only a matter of time until Katsuki got his greedy calloused fingers onto it.

Katsuki returned over to you, looking down at you with disgust. That almost felt worse than the punishment itself. Yes, you hated Katsuki, but somehow, you still craved his approval. You did not like making him unhappy. Your body and bones depended on you making him happy.

“Like sitting in your own filth?” He arched an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

“No.” You answer, bowing your head down in shame.

“Why? Don’t like being reminded how much of a disgusting whore you are?” Katsuki tsk. He has always been the degrading type, but when he is angry and trying to prove a point, he is much worse.

“No.” You replied, whimpering slightly. You refused to look at him, but you know he is enjoying this. He enjoys putting you in your place. He enjoys winning.

Katsuki began taking off the rest of his work clothes. His erected cock is already throbbing from watching you bust everywhere. He may not have been in the room physically, but he sure did enjoy watching you downstairs on the flat screen. He didn’t even need to turn on the sound because your moans traveled down to the living room.

“Get in the position I like you in.” Katsuki instructed. Tears stream down your face. You didn’t want to do it. You’re tired and just the thought of Katsuki putting his length deep within you disturbed you emotionally.

“You deaf or somethin’?” Katsuki growls as he grabs you by your hair and gets close to your face. “I said get in the fuckin’ position.”

You scurry to do as your told, Katsuki letting go of your hair so you can do so. Face down, ass up is Katsuki’s favorite position to fuck you in. He loves seeing all of your exposed holes to please and toy with. Call him greedy, but he knows you secretly enjoy it too. At least, that is what he tells himself as he makes you moan out his name.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Katsuki praises as you get into position. He spreads you open more so he can get a nice view of all of you. Your cunt is damp and ready for Katsuki’s length, but he is deciding to be nice. “Which hole you want me to fuck first?”

Neither, you thought.

“Any.” You huffed out, wanting this over with already. Your annoyed tone bought you a hard slap to your ass. You wince in pain.

“I’m sorry, Katsuki.” You cry, instinctively. “My pussy, please.”

Katsuki rubs your ass cheek in approval. His hands hold onto your hips, positioning you the perfect angle to take all of his dick. The tip rest at your weeping entrance then proceeds to slide inside. You cry out in pleasure and pain. No matter how wet you are, no matter how many times Katsuki has sex with you, your cunt will never be able to handle all of his girth. Your tight walls will always hug his length to his enjoyment. Katsuki just can’t get enough.

Katsuki continued his constant rough rhythm, delivering a few slaps to your ass and thighs in the process. He loves seeing your ass bounce as he thrust deep into you. The way you sing him beautiful melodies of moans, groans, and whines just encourages his behavior.

“Katsuki—“ You cry, incoherently, as he hits your ass again.

“What’s the matter? Too much dick for ya?” Katsuki mocks. “Bet that stupid little toy of yours can’t make you feel this good. Look at you, can’t even make coherent sentences. Such a,” he grunts as his dick twitches deep inside you, “dumb fuckin’ slut.”

You grip the bedsheets as Katsuki pushes down on your tailbone to move a slightly different angle. Your breast still bounced though they were pressed against the soaked cotton beneath you. You tried to muffle your moans, but Katsuki will not allow that to happen. He wants to hear you stroke his ego. He wants to be reassured he is making you feel this amazing.

Katsuki continued pumping into your sore cunt until he met his goal. You have no choice but to milk every single drop he has to offer. Once you are nice and full of his cum, he taps your putter thigh.

“Sit up.”

As commanded, you sit up. Your back is pressed against Katsuki’s chest. His hand hugs your neck, squeezing it nicely. You cough slightly, looking up at him.

“Think I better take care of this mouth of yours next. Seems to get you in the most trouble.”

“Please no.” You whisper, more tears falling. Katsuki releases your throat, now holding your chin, and brushes them away with his thumb.

“Don’t want me to stuff your dirty little mouth, hm?”

“I’ll be good, Katsuki.” You swallow the lump that formed in your throat, doing your best to sound small. He liked when you sound weak. “I promise.”

“Y’know better than to make promises you can’t keep. You’ve broken several of them already. Be a good girl for me and get on your knees.”

“Yes, Katsuki.”

©bakugosbratx

#bakugosbratx #yandere my hero academia #yandere bakugou #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere katsuki #yandere bakugo katsuki #bnha yandere #bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugō #bnha bakugou #mha katsuki #katsukibakugou #bakugo x you #bakugo x female reader #bakugo smut #bakugou smut #katsuki smut #bakugou x reader

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atlabeth · 4 years ago

Text

everything happens for a reason part 3 - zuko x fem!reader

I feel so much, I get carried away

part 2 | masterlist | part 4

a/n: enjoy the fluff in this chapter bc its not gonna last

once again for reference - this chapter takes place 2 years after the last one so y/n is 11 and zuko is 12

warning(s): eating/food, but otherwise its pure fluff

wc: 3.3k

chapter title comes from carried away by madison beer!

i ran out of kid zuko gifs so i had to make my own smh if you want something done you gotta do it yourself

The young friendship only flourished after that fateful day. Zuko and Y/N began spending almost all of their freetime together between Y/N teaching him about her culture, their usual talking in the hallways, and finding ways to hang out together outside of her schedule. She was absolutely delighted to be teaching Zuko though, so she always made sure there was time for her self proclaimed academy.

Y/N was constantly busy around the castle, so in order to hang out they had started waking up extra early — the pair had become experts at sneaking around the castle with the first rays of the sun. The gardens were a favourite because of its availability, and of course, the turtleducks. It also gave Y/N a chance to bend outside of healing, something that they began to take advantage of as they got older.

Sparring sessions became a regular between them as a way for Y/N to get some practice with martial bending, Zuko to experience fighting against a waterbender, and just another way for them to spend time together. Of course, they had to keep it as quiet as possible to avoid alerting anyone of their presence, but that became the least of their worries over time.

They each pushed each other to be better, and with Y/N’s healing skills, they were able to walk away every morning without any injuries. But after discovering a very unfair advantage that the prince held, she decided that morning sparring just wasn’t enough.

(“Firebending gets stronger in the morning,” he had told her after a particularly brutal blast resulting in some emergency bending on Y/N’s part to extinguish a tree. “My teachers always say that we rise with the sun.”

“Well,” she had said with a smile. “We rise with the moon. You just signed yourself up for some late night sparring sessions.”)

Y/N had truly started to come into her own. It had been two years since her capture, and though she had in no way made peace with her life in the Fire Nation, she was trying to take advantage of it as much as she could. Even though she despised being at the beck and call of nobles and guards, she couldn’t deny the opportunities it gave her to hone her abilities. Her healing had improved tenfold and her martial bending wasn’t too shabby either. Between all of the time spent with Zuko and practicing her bending, she was able to distract herself from her dim reality.

But the world was a cruel, cruel place, no matter how much she tried to ignore it. It didn’t treat souls like Zuko and Y/N kindly, a fact that they would soon become aware of.

In the moment though, Y/N was more focused on not getting burnt.

She twirled to the side as a small flame shot past her, just barely managing to dodge it as she bent a stream of water out from the pond and sent it at Zuko. He turned it to steam as he blocked it with his own fire, which he then sent back at her with a combination of a punch and a kick. Y/N raised her hands and bent up a large wall of water from the pond, and with a small grunt on her part, sent it flying towards Zuko. He tried to conjure up his own fire shield in an effort to extinguish the water once more, but it was too little too late and he ended up getting knocked to the ground and completely drenched.

Y/N couldn’t stop the giggle that fell from her lips as Zuko wiped water off of his face, sputtering incoherently while he pushed himself up. “Did you really have to do that?” he complained.

“You know I do.” She grinned as she walked around the pond to his side, cracking her knuckles before she began to bend the water out of his clothes. “This was in the morning, too. Admit it, I’m getting better!”

He cracked a smile of his own. “You really are. I just wish that you getting better didn’t end up in me getting soaked every time.”

She bent the water she had extracted from his clothes back into the pond and held out her hand to help him up from the ground, which he took gratefully. “That just makes it more fun.”

As she helped pull him up, Y/N found herself more than a little transfixed. The rays of the rising sun shone down on him perfectly, and the smile still on his lips made her feel flutter bats in her stomach.

Y/N didn’t know when she had started seeing Zuko in a different light than usual. When his laughs became melodious, his smile like a ray of sunshine on its own, his company coveted. While she was usually able to trade verbal jabs with him without a second thought, doing her self-assigned job of keeping him humble, something had changed in the past year.

They grew steadily closer over the years after they had met, but one event in particular all but pushed Zuko into her arms.

Ursa’s banishment.

Of course, they didn’t know that she had been banished. No one aside from Ozai knew the true nature of her disappearance — to her children and the other inhabitants of the palace, it was just that. A disappearance.

It was suspicious, yes. All in the span of a day, Princess Ursa vanished, Fire Lord Azulon mysteriously perished, and Ozai took his place, but nothing could be done. It was a somber day for every servant — Ursa showed them a kindness that couldn’t be found anywhere else in the palace, and to rub salt in the wound, a man just as cruel as Azulon had risen to the throne.

Zuko was devastated. He had always been close with his mother, and the only thing she had given him before leaving was a short goodbye and a kiss. He was angry beyond belief at the abandonment, and that anger overshadowed his grief.

Y/N tried to help him, but he lashed out at her.

“Your mother is still here and she loves you! Mine left me like I was nothing. Don’t try and say you know how I feel.”

“But my father is gone. I do know how you feel Zuko, and I want to help you, but I can’t help you if you keep pushing me away.”

“…you don’t know anything.”

It hurt, but she knew he needed space. She gave it to him, letting him brew alone and take out his anger however necessary, but let him know that the door was open when he was ready to talk.

He did — he had apologized for what he said and she accepted, and Zuko ended up spilling every emotion he had to her over the next few weeks. She listened, offered advice when she could, and made Zuko feel a little bit less alone in the scheme of it all. It was a horrible experience, but it brought them closer together, and the prince was eternally thankful that he had a friend to help him through the ordeal.

The night that he came to her room, admitting that he was hurting and asking for her help — Y/N thinks that was the moment she fell for him. She cursed herself at the time for developing feelings for her only friend in the palace, but over time she learned to cover them up. She had to remember her place.

She understood her role, but it got harder and harder to keep up with it the more time she spent with Zuko — this moment was no exception.

“Yeah, yeah. I just hold back because I don’t want to burn you.”

“Liar!” she exclaimed, hitting him playfully on the shoulder. “You forget that I can heal myself if anything goes wrong. Besides, I know you’d never burn me. I trust you.”

Zuko smiled and smoothed his clothes back down, the only sign of their sparring session now gone. “Good, because I trust you too. No matter how many times you totally drench me.”

She snorted as she started to walk back to the palace. “Like I said, that just makes it more fun. And as fun as it has been completely crushing you in combat, duty calls.”

He sighed, giving a reluctant nod as he started to follow her — then his eyes lit up, and he grabbed her arm to stop them. “Wait, how much work do you have today?”

Y/N thought for a few seconds then shrugged. “Dunno, it varies. I got stuck working with Jaysa all this morning, so that’s going to take forever, I have my usual healing lessons with Master Rika after, and then I usually just end up going around with whatever else comes my way for the rest of the day.” She grinned and lowered her voice as if the subject of the matter could somehow hear her. “I’ve been working on a dress for my mother in secret because her birthday is coming up soon, so the free time I get between my shifts that isn’t spent with you has been going towards that.”

Zuko gaped. “You’re making her a dress all on your own, with no help? How?”

She held up her hands with a proud smile. “These things are good for waterbending, sewing, and hitting best friends.”

He gave her a sideways grin at that. “I’m your best friend?”

Y/N snickered and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, dummy. You’re like, the only person that likes me in this whole nation. Of course you’re my best friend.”

“Well…” he started. “Would a best friend like to break the rules even more tonight?”

Her eyes lit up in turn, completely betraying her excitement despite her attempt to look nonchalant about it. “That depends — what d’you have in mind?”

He grinned and leaned forward, dropping his voice to a whisper as he spoke in her ear. “So, after you finish work for the night, we…”

It was a struggle to get through all of her work after the plan that she and Zuko had formulated — sure, they broke the rules all the time. The basis of their entire friendship was breaking the rules, but this was going farther than they ever had before. Y/N wasn’t thinking about the consequences though, she was thinking about the journey — that was her first mistake.

She had rushed through all of her chores with Jaysa, hardly paid attention in her healing lessons, and made quick work of the rest of her day until she was finally able to meet up with Zuko at one of the various servant entrances that she had shown him.

“You’re finally here!” he exclaimed, his body buzzing with nervous energy. “I thought you were never gonna come.”

“Some of us actually have work to get done, mister crown prince,” she joked as she bumped his shoulder with hers. “But that doesn’t matter — let’s get going before someone catches us! I don’t want it to get too dark either.”

“It’s gonna be fine,” Zuko reassured. “My dad is in war meetings all day, no one is going to catch us. Now come on!”

Zuko pushed open the door, grabbed her hand, and began to pull her along. A laugh fell from her lips as they ran, unable to stop herself from casting a cautionary glance behind them as they got farther from the palace. Y/N tried to push her worries out of her mind — like she had told Zuko earlier, she trusted him.

That was her second mistake.

It was surprisingly easy to sneak past the guards around the wall and just as quick to get through Royal Caldera, and before Y/N knew it, they had arrived in the city.

It was nothing like she had ever seen before.

The village she had grown up in was miniscule compared to anything in the Fire Nation, and she was especially awestruck upon entering the city. As home to more middle class citizens than anything, it was a bustling marketplace filled with workers and nobles alike — if she hadn’t been preoccupied with the stars in her eyes, she would’ve been able to see the way Zuko was absolutely beaming at her.

“Come on!” he exclaimed, grabbing her hand once again as he began to walk — at a much more moderate pace than their run here — down the streets. “There’s so much here that I wanna show you. Have you ever been out here?”

She shook her head, allowing herself to gawk at her surroundings while they went down the street. “We aren’t really allowed to leave the palace since we’re technically still prisoners, just… ones that work. My mother always had to give her money to one of the other servants so that when they went out to buy their things, they could pick some stuff up for us as well. This is all totally new.”

Once again, a frown found its way onto Zuko’s face, but only for a split second before he pointed at a stall opposite to them. “Oh— there’s a fruit stand! Come on, you have to try this.”

Y/N let Zuko pull her over to the stand, looking at the array of fruits on display while Zuko conversed with the merchant. A few silver pieces later and they were walking away with a basket of produce — miraculously, the prince hadn’t been recognized, so she figured he wouldn’t need a disguise. Third mistake.

“Here,” he said, offering her a mango from the basket. “You haven’t lived until you’ve tried Fire Nation mango.”

She took the fruit from him and bit into it, her eyes immediately widening as she turned on Zuko. “Tui’s gills, this is delicious! You’re telling me that you people just have this on hand but we don’t get any of it?”

He shrugged and took a fig from the basket as Y/N wiped some juice off of her chin. “There’s a reason I’ve helped you break into the kitchens so many times. Now, where do you wanna go next?”

The pair spent the next couple of hours browsing the marketplace, enjoying their day on the Fire Lord’s coin. Zuko was more than happy to show Y/N parts of his culture after all she had taught him, and she was more than happy to experience it. They had been able to buy lanterns for the upcoming Festival of Szeto, purchase their own blends of tea leaves, and of course Zuko insisted on getting fire flakes and gummies.

(Y/N thought he was insane. Why in the world would the Fire Nation want to make food that hurt them on purpose? She was going to stick with her newfound love for mangoes.)

But Zuko hadn’t even brought her to the best part yet.

“Can I open my eyes now?” She asked, her anxious tone betraying her curiosity.

“Now you can.” Y/N was met with Zuko’s grin and as she focused on the stand in front of them, she had to make a conscious effort to not gape.

Zuko had brought her to a sewing stand with all the threads, fabrics, and silks that she could dream of in all kinds of colors. She immediately rushed forward, unable to stop herself from running her hands over and through each and every piece of material — she was in a seamstress’s heaven.

“I take that as a sign you like it?” Zuko asked happily.

“Oh, definitely,” she confirmed, still completely caught up in all the choices. “This is so much better than all the material we’re given to work with!”

“That’s why I brought you here. I thought you could get some stuff for yourself, and some stuff to help with the dress you’re making for your mom. I don’t really know how sewing works, but I thought that this was one way I could help.”

“That is so sweet of you!” she gushed. “Thank you so much — you should probably get around to some of the other stalls because I… I think I’m gonna be here for a while.”

Zuko laughed and fished out of a couple of golden pieces then set them in her hand. “That’s okay. I’ll meet you over by the steps; we can watch the sunset together.”

They nodded as parting gifts and each was enveloped in their tasks; Y/N beginning to ask the merchant questions about everything at their stand and Zuko off to entertain himself for a few more minutes.

Soon enough, Y/N had her own small bundle of silks and fabrics, her mind already going off in a million different ways of how she could incorporate it into the design. She found Zuko sitting on the steps and as she took her own seat next to him, he handed her another mango.

“Did you find everything you wanted?” She nodded and hummed gratefully as she accepted the fruit, taking a bite as her eyes fell on the skyline in front of them.

“I had a really great time today, Zuko. I really can’t thank you enough for taking me out here. I… I think I forgot what it was like to feel like this.”

“Like what?”

“...happy.” She paused for a second before allowing herself to meet his eyes. “All the time I spend with you in the palace… It’s one of the only times that I really do feel happy. And being out here today, getting to walk around where I wanted and buy things and just— I feel free, Zuko. And that means everything to me.”

She felt the heat rush to her cheeks and she turned away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go on like that—“

Zuko gently reached out for her hand, drawing her attention back to him and the soft smile on his face.

“Well… I care about you. You’re nice to me, and you take time out of your day to help me which you don’t have to do. This is just me trying to pay you back for all you’ve done to help me. We can do this more often — whenever my dad’s busy.”

Her own smile grew on her lips and she nodded as she laced her fingers with his. “I care about you too. And.. I’d like that.”

Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder and together, they watched the sunset over the city.

There was no place either of them would rather be.

Y/N and Zuko made their way back to the palace as quickly as they could after realizing how late it had gotten. Y/N was sure that she was going to get the talking-to of her life after what she had done, but she was almost giddy after what had just happened. She could deal with any of Kura’s consequences later — right now the only thought in her mind was the feeling of Zuko’s hand in hers.

The night had been nothing short of perfect. She had felt freer than ever before out there in the city with Zuko, and knowing that he reciprocated the feelings she had for him was enough to make her heart burst. She cared for him, and he cared for her.

Of course, there was that nagging question of how they would continue now that their friendship had morphed into something more, but once again — it was something she would deal with later. Her fourth and final mistake.

But as a guard turned the corner, Y/N realized she might not get the chance. She quickly let go of Zuko’s hand and tucked it under the bundle of fabric, hoping that the gesture of affection had been missed by the man.

If he had noticed, he showed no sign of it. He stopped in front of them, a gruff voice speaking from behind the mask with words that made her heart stop.

“Prince Zuko, the Fire Lord has requested an audience with you.”

haha OOPS

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

ehfar: @chandies-sideblog @persica27

atla: @marianne1806

#zuko x reader #zuko x you #zuko x y/n #zuko fic #zuko #avatar #avatar the last airbender #avatar fic #avatar the last airbender fic #atla #atla fic #zuko avatar #sadie writes

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mmvalentine · 3 years ago

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Heyy i reallyy love your writing. Could u please do an alternative inn scene (from acomaf) where rhysand asks feyre what she wants and feyre replies with 'you' instead of 'i want a distraction'?? I would very much love thatt! And also insert whatever u know u write best😉😏

OH INTERESTING okay, yeah I'll bite! Gonna just start by copy pasting a whole chunk because I quite liked the lead up but yeah let's get real divergent.

You

I murmured, "We should go to sleep."

The patter of the rain was the only sound for long moment before he said, "All right."

I crawled over the bed to the side tucked almost against the slanted ceiling and shimmied beneath the quilt. Cool, crisp sheets wrapped around me like an icy hand. But my shiver was from something else entirely as the mattress shifted, the blanket moved, and then the two candles beside the bed went out.

Darkness hit me at the same moment the warmth from his body did. It was an effort not to nudge toward it. Neither one of us moved, though.

I stared into the dark, listening to that icy rain, trying to steal the warmth from him.

"You're shivering so hard the bed is shaking," he said.

"My hair is wet," I said. It wasn't a lie.

Rhys was silent, then the mattress groaned, sinking directly behind me as his warmth poured over me. "No expectations," he said. "Just body heat." I scowled at the laughter in his voice.

But his broad hands slid under and over me: one flattening against my stomach and tugging me against the hard warmth of him, the other sliding under my ribs and arms to band around my chest, pressing his front into me. He tangled his legs with mine, and then a heavier, warmer darkness settled over us, smelling of citrus and the sea.

I lifted a hand toward that darkness, and met with a soft, silky material- his wing, cocooning and warming me. I traced my finger along it, and he shuddered, his arms tightening around me.

"Your finger... is very cold," he gritted out, the words hot on my neck.

I tried not to smile, even as I tilted my neck a bit more, hoping the heat of his breath might caress it again. I dragged my finger along his wing, the nail scraping gently against the smooth surface. Rhys tensed, his hand splaying across my stomach.

"You cruel, wicked thing," he purred, his nose grazing the exposed bit of my neck I'd arched beneath him. "Didn't anyone ever teach you manners?"

"I never knew Illyrians were such sensitive babies," I said, sliding another finger down the inside of his wing.

Something hard pushed against my behind. Heat flooded me, and I went taut and loose all at once. I stroked his wing again, two fingers now, and he twitched against my backside in time with the caress.

The fingers he'd spread over my stomach began to make lazy, idle strokes. He swirled one around my navel, and I inched imperceptibly closer, grinding up against him, arching a bit more to give that other hand access to my breasts.

"Greedy," he murmured, his lips hovering over my neck. "First you terrorize me with your cold hands, now you want... want is it you want, Feyre?"

More, more, more, I almost begged him as his fingers traveled down the slope of my breasts, while his other hand continued its idle stroking along my stomach, my abdomen, slowly- so slowly- heading toward the low band of my pants and the building ache beneath it.

Rhysand's teeth scraped against my neck in a lazy caress. "What is it you want, Feyre?" He nipped at my earlobe.

What did I want?

I wanted his hands lower, and all over me. I wanted to not feel guilty anymore for Tamlin. I wanted us all to be okay and to not have to worry about a war coming our way.

"What do you want?" Rhys's words rumbled against my skin and his nails scratched lightly back and forth above my waistband.

And Cauldron damn it, at the end of the day what I really wanted was to just fuck all of it off and to just be with Rhys.

I had no idea how to say that though, without it all sounding so... trite. So human. And there was Rhys, waiting with his nose under my ear and the unliftable weight of his court on his shoulders.

What did I want?

In the end, all I could say was, "you." And it was as much a relief to admit that to myself as it was admitting it to him.

Rhys's hands stopped moving and for a second, I thought I'd said the wrong thing. He went so still- then I remembered his words.

I can't breathe when I look at you.

Let me touch you.

Because I was jealous, and pissed off...

She's mine.

And I knew better.

"You want me?" Rhys echoed, low and dangerous in the curve of my ear. He started moving again, coming up and over my body like another heavy layer of darkness.

"Yes," I whispered, and he nudged my knees apart so that he could settle between my legs.

"Is that so?" Rhys leaned his forearms either side of my face, and rolled his hips against mine so that the heavy length of him ground into me just where that ache needed the friction. I bit my lip against the things that did to me, and struggled to control my breath.

Not to be out done, I reached up and smoothed my hands across his back and up the arches of his wings. The shudder this produced had him rocking into me again, and now both of us were breathing a little hard.

"You'll be the death of me, Feyre darling," Rhys said, and then he kissed me and everything went more thoroughly dark than I had ever experienced in my life.

At the time I honestly could not have said whether this was Rhys's power flaring, or whether my mind just blanked out hard as soon as he kissed me. But what I knew is that I couldn't see anything and that just left me to feel everything a hundred times over.

The weight of his body pinning me down on the mattress.

The pull of his fingers tangling into mine just above my head.

The almost bruising pressure between my legs.

And the sure but honey-slow movement of his lips against mine, one lush press sliding into another.

Rhys groaned softly against my mouth, and I felt the sound all the way down my spine. The first touch of his tongue had me leaning up off the pillow, unable to reach for him because his hands still held mine against the bed. Rhys let go of one hand to smooth down the side of my thigh, sliding under my calf to hitch it to his hip. I threaded my freed hand through his hair, but Rhys chuckled and gently pinned it down again.

"Feyre," he purred. "Feyre, Feyre you have to tell me. What do you want?" His lips moved down the column of my throat and I struggled to answer him.

"I told you," I gasped. "I want you."

"You're going to have to be more specific," Rhys murmured against my collar bone.

"I want... everything." I lifted my hips for emphasis, and loved how his flexed in response. Rhys's mouth came down on mine again, this time hungrier and less gentle. He ground his erection into me and I moved back against him eagerly. He finally let my hands go and I twisted them around his neck, pulling him closer. The taste of him was intoxicating, all sea spray and cointreau. One of Rhys's hands slid behind my head and into my hair, and the other snaked down between us and slipped between my legs.

My moan broke the kiss, and I could hear the grin in Rhysand's voice. "Is this what you wanted?" he asked me. He moved his fingers slowly, rubbing against my clit through my pants.

"More," I groaned, and with a flicker of magic my clothes vanished and his fingers were still against my bare pussy. My nails dug into his shoulders and I couldn't care enough to be embarrassed about how loud the next moan was.

"Mmm Feyre you're so wet for me," Rhys muttered. His fingers started moving again, at first just going back and forth over my clit but I moved my hips up to him.

"More," I ground out again, tilting so that his fingers were reaching further down. Rhys took the hint and pushed inside of me, swearing softly as I started to fuck myself on his hand. Rhys's other hand came up to squeeze my breast, his thumb stroking over my peaked nipple.

"Just like that?" he asked me.

"Gods yes," I struggled out.

"Still want more?" he said. I couldn't quite formulate a response because he had just added another finger. Rhys didn't wait. He ducked his head down, and while his fingers were still pumping inside me, he sucked my clit into his mouth.

"Fuck, Rhys!"

Rhysand did not respond. Just kept flicking his tongue, while my fist tightened in his hair and my climax built behind my eyelids.

"Rhys, I'm... Ohgodsfuck," I mumbled incoherently, my brain not connecting with my tongue.

What was that darling? Rhys asked without lifting his lips. I moaned. The intimacy of him speaking right into my mind was almost unbearable right now, and in the moment I had completely forgotten we could communicate like that.

Rhys... I sent back, but even non-verbally that's all I could muster.

Are you going to come? he asked me. Are you going to come on my tongue like a good girl?

Black talons scraped down the shields of my mind and they may as well have scratched straight down my belly.

Do it, he said. Come for me.

And cauldron help me, I did. I came so hard the scream hurt my throat, and then before I could fully regain consciousness Rhys was rising back up toward me and kissing me with pussy wet lips so I could taste myself on his tongue.

"Mmmm, you," Rhys said between kisses, "are absolutely, fucking delicious." I kissed him back and tried to catch my breath, but now his cock was twitching against my over-sensitive clit and my head was empty.

"What do you think?" he asked me, grinding slow circles with his hips. "Had enough pleasure for one night? Should I let you get some sleep?"

"No, please," I whimpered. "Need you so badly." My hands clawed at his chest, tried to reach down between us to touch him.

"You know, I have had a very long time to think about how and where I want you," Rhys said. The darkness lifted a little, and I could now dimly see Rhysand's face above mine. He was so beautiful I wanted to cry. "And I never thought it'd be in a tiny room where I can't even fuck you against the wall." I shivered at the suggestion.

"I don't care where we are," I breathed. "Just want you." Rhys moved his tongue the hollow of my throat.

"Do you?" he asked softly.

"Of course. I want you, I want all of you, I want..."

Rhys cut me off by kissing me, and I had to remind myself to breathe in.

"But do you know what all is?" Rhys asked hoarsely. And then I looked into his eyes and realised that there was real fear there. That for all his swagger, the reason he kept asking was because he still wasn't sure what I wanted from him. I put my hands on his face.

"Rhysand," I said. "I want every single, beautiful, terrible, wicked, brutal, lovely part of you. Okay?"

"Okay," Rhys whispered. But he just started at me for a minute.

"Don't you want me, too?"

And that got him moving again.

"Do I want you?" Rhys slid his hands under my shoulder blades and skimmed his nose across my jaw. His fingers tightened beneath me as his teeth tugged my ear lobe and his lips began working once more. "Feyre, gods. You have no idea how much I..." He cut himself off and groaned as his erection pressed insistently against me. "Feyre."

I pushed at the waistband of his trousers and he let me, kissing my lips as he removed the rest of his clothes. And then he was completely naked above me, and his bare cock on my pussy was more teasing than I could take.

"Rhys, please," I whimpered, my fingers finally touching the length of him. A snarl rumbled out from Rhys's chest, and then he was pressing into me.

Just a little. Just the head of him. But my body caught fire, and then started to tremble as the pressure built. He was big enough that he had to wait for me to adjust, and yet the need for him pulsed through me like a madness and my nails dug into his arms so hard I might have cut him.

I breathed through my nose as Rhys pulled out and came back, pushing a little further in this time with a hiss through his teeth.

"Fuck," he whipped out, half way in with the third pass. His forehead dropped to mine and I took his bottom lip between my teeth as he finally sank all the way in, eyes snapping open as we hit the hilt.

For a second, we just stared at each other. His eyes were black, and raw, and bottomless. Then he started to move and my mind slid.

In and out, painfully slow, and as my body got used to the size of him suddenly he was perfect. Suddenly something snapped into place and being with Rhys was like breathing air. I moved with him as he picked up his pace, and with every stroke I was being filled with something better than oxygen until I was brimming with it.

But somehow the more complete I felt, it appeared the more Rhys was coming undone. He buried his face in my neck, and his movements became more frenzied, more desperate. He gathered up my legs like he just needed to be deeper and couldn't get enough, and the sounds he made were like a starving man.

And all of it felt so fucking good. I went liquid under his touch and let him devour me. Rhys drew back a little to look at me, and when he made eye contact I almost came again. My eyes rolled back, but Rhys tugged at my chin.

"Don't ask me if I want you," he said when my eyes were back on his. "I will always, always want you." Rhys gripped my hip tightly as he fucked me faster. "I want you more than I've ever wanted anything." His other hand cradled the back of my skull. "I want you more than I want my next breath." And indeed his breathing was labouring now, and his movements jerked hard into me. "I want you to be mine. Mine. Mine." His hips punctuated his words, slamming into me harder and harder each time until I was out of my body and screaming and coming and trying to tell him that I already was his.

When Rhys came he shuddered and shook so hard I heard his teeth click, and maybe my shields had slipped but I swear I felt his climax rip straight through my body like it might tear me in half.

I couldn't have moved even if I wanted to.

Of course as we lay there in that tiny room, in the dark, I never wanted to move again. I wondered, and could not bring myself to ask, if it was always like this for Rhys, if this was just how good he was in bed in general, if I was just overwhelmed because I didn't have much experience with fae.

"No," Rhys said quietly. "It's never like that for me, either."

So my shields were down.

But I didn't care at all, not in this state, not when Rhys carefully pulled out and rolled me onto my side so he could pull me into his arms again, not when he cleaned us up with a breath of magic and then started stroking gently over my flank while consciousness slipped from me.

"You want me?" Rhys whispered into my hair. "You've got me, Feyre darling. You've always had me."

And that was the very last thing I heard before sleep found me.

*****

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @philosophorumaurum02 @story-scribbler @allthecolorsneverseen @asteria-of-mars @fandomstalker27

#feysand #feysand fic #acotar #mine #smut

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ghoultramp · 4 years ago

Text

study buddies [sukuna x reader] {req}

▷ jjk

↳ pairing: sukuna x f!reader

↳ content: { request fic } - dom!sukuna, subby!reader, curvy&soft!reader, college!au, dubcon, choking, spitting, marking (biting, scratching), dacryphilia, degradation (?), breath play (?), a sprinkle of praise (as a treat), nicknames for reader (princess, babygirl)

↳ words: 4.7k

⇢ summary: sukuna’s a little fed up of yuji having you all the fun with you, so when yuji suggests you should take a break from studying, sukuna decides it’s the perfect opportunity to have a taste of yuji’s little princess.

also available on ao3

⇢ note: request for nemi; i’m so sorry it took so long to get around to this but i hope this makes up for the wait! a huge thank you for being my partner in crime on this and for some of the fantastic ideas you shared.

Yuji had been grumbling at his textbook for the better part of ten minutes before you peered over the top of yours. While he lay chest down on the floor, your legs were lazily propped over the small of his back. Your own back was supported by a pillow against your bed frame, comfortable enough, but you were starting to ache. Yuji wittered beneath his breath, he looked sweet when he tried to concentrate; his eyebrows furrowed and his nose wrinkled, but it was the way his tongue poked over his top lip that made you giggle.

“Stop,” he groaned, “this is hard.”

You cleared your throat as you closed your book, placing it on your lap.

“Which question is it now?” you asked, lifting your legs off him.

He grumbled incoherently, flipping the same page back and forth. You shook your head and shuffled next to him, straightening out your skirt as you brought your knees together to retain some modicum of decency. You leaned your weight against your left hand and softly patted Yuji’s head with the other.

“Uhm,” he mumbled, “still on the first one…?”

“Yuji-Kun,” you sighed, “have you been listening to a word I’ve said?”

He looked at you through his peripheral vision while his mouth fought against a nervous smirk. You playfully tapped him against the side of the head. Yuji feigned injury, holding his head and rolling onto his back; you were trying so hard not to laugh as he rolled about, wailing dramatically.

“You’re such a baby,” you told him, throwing the textbook to the side.

You watched as he stopped and spread his limbs out like a starfish, he turned his head in your direction.

“Says the little Princess,” he retorted, he flashed a grin when your cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink.

He loved rendering your speechless with the utterance of a single word. To everyone on the outside, you and Yuji were this cute, Hallmark-movie, high-school sweetheart-type couple, barely even kissed, blushing at the sweet whispers you exchanged; how wrong they were.

Those sweet whispers that made you blush wildly were due to Yuji sharing with you his demands for you that evening—because you would always be his good Babygirl, his good little Princess. They would never see him grope you beneath the lecture hall desks, purposefully dragging you to the back. He’d ignore you as you cried into the sleeve of your sweater while his fingers fiddled with your sensitive little bud behind your underwear.

He rolled onto his side to prop his head up with his hand, you brought your hands up to cover your flushed cheeks.

“Hey,” he was trying not to laugh, finding your bashfulness absurdly loveable, “why don’t we take a break?”

A squeak escaped through the fingers of the hand that covered your mouth. Yuji awkwardly shifted onto his hands and knees, crawling toward you. When he sat up next to you, he swung his legs around to place them on either side of you; trapping you between him and the bed frame.

“Now who’s the baby?” he cooed, teasing you more by poking your hands playfully.

He laughed at your attempt to look annoyed, it was wasted. You resigned, watching as he began to lean into you, his hand pressed against the back of your head and his lips brushed against your ear.

“Or should I say,” his whisper was a low growl, “Babygirl?”

“Yuuuuuji,” you were whining as you squirmed between his legs, “you’re doing this on purpose.”

The warm breath expelled by his chuckle brushed against your neck. You felt the grip he held on the back of your head fall to your wrists, you didn’t fight him as he pulled your hands from your face. You knew he got off on how bashful you always were, and maybe you played into that a little, he felt the hot flush of your cheeks radiate against him.

He could devour you so easily.

You felt a thumb press hard against your chin, pushing your head right back. A pitiful laboured noise escaped your mouth, now pushing his palm against your throat. It wasn’t quite enough pressure to stop you from breathing, but enough to cause you discomfort. Enough to satisfy him. For the moment, at least.

“…ji,” you were fortunate enough to be able to squeeze the last syllable of his name.

Using his free hand, he kneaded at the delicious pudge of skin that poked out above your slightly-too-tight thigh-high socks. They were just a part of one of your many little uniforms reserved only for Yuji, and today was one of his favourites; a just-tight-enough shirt opened enough for your delicate, frilly lingerie—of his choosing, of course—to peek out, paired with a simple, pleated skirt.

You were ever so grateful when he lightened the pressure on your larynx, allowing you to urgently drag in a deep breath. But it was mere seconds before you were gasping and panting, succumbing to his will as his fingers pressed gently against the damp cotton of your panties.

“Finally,” you heard him say, the lowered tone of his voice triggered your flight response.

“Yu-Yuji?” you whimpered.

“Yuji’s not home right now, Princess,” he declared, “it’s not fair that he gets to have all the fun anyway.”

“Su-Sukuna, please,” you whined, tilting your pelvis back in an attempt to escape his roaming fingers, he only pressed against you harder.

“Why don’t you let me take you for a ride, babygirl,” as he said it, he dragged his finger downward, following your sweet, little slit beneath your underwear.

“You p-promised you wouldn’t,” if it wasn’t for the fact that Sukuna was so close to you, he never would have heard your feeble pleas.

“We all promise things we don’t really mean,” he groaned, removing his hand on your throat.

Sukuna smirked all the while you gasped for air—once again—and then whimpered, the focus in your sight made everything soft, your head felt full of cotton wool. Sukuna sniggered, the dumb, heavy-lidded look on your pretty, little face was nothing less than perfection. He pressed his fingers a slightly bit harder against your clit, inhaling sharply when he pulled strangled little mewls from behind your slightly parted lips.

Sukuna was more than a little fond of Yuji’s choice of mate, he’d been waiting far too long for this opportunity and he wasn’t going to squander it.

He was going to savour every moment.

“Let’s see,” Sukuna contemplated, relieving your clit of his fingers. He’d want you to beg for it, prove just how much of a needy little whore you really were; he’d have you screaming his name soon enough.

You whined at him as his hands crept along the outsides of your thighs, under your skirt, grabbing hold of your shapely hips. He ignored your cries while he pulled you toward him, your skirt now ruched above your waist.

“C’mere,” he grunted, jostling you with some force when you didn’t move quick enough for him.

From your position—your head now propped where your back had been, Sukuna suspending your arse with his large hands—you could almost pretend that it was still Yuji. It was still his body after all, right? Your eyes passed over the dark lines that only Sukuna had—you always thought they looked like tattoos—and the closed, second set of eyes. Those eyes unnerved you, scared you. You dropped your gaze.

You didn’t ever think you’d have to face this situation, Yuji had reassured you time and time again that he had control of Sukuna, that he wouldn’t be able to take over when things got hot and heavy between the both of you. Now, you supposed Sukuna had lied about being compliant the entire time.

Sukuna continued, “I demand a taste of this—“ he yanked your underwear down your thighs, pulling a little too hard on the waistband, “—sweet fucking cunny.”

Dumbfounded, you were only able to watch him with curious, wide eyes as he moved your legs to benefit him while he struggled to remove your underwear. He was clearly getting impatient, throwing your soaked underwear over his head and across the other side of the room.

Sukuna let out a long, deep moan, as he shuffled himself back. He brought your legs down, pressing his muscular upper-arms against the back of your thighs; this was his way of stabilising you while having both of his hands free.

With his biceps pushing into your thighs, you yelped as your neck was forced into an uncomfortable position. The top of your head pressed against the base of the bed while your ear squashed into your shoulder; you scrambled to hoist yourself up, pushing your palms against the floor.

“Ah-ah,” he growled, yanking you down by the hips.

Sukuna mumbled something, you may not have been able to hear it, but your widely spread cunt certainly felt him say something. He brought the index finger of his right hand up to hover just out of reach of your presenting hole; raising his gaze to catch you looking at him--your chest heaving with your gulping breaths, your eyes almost entirely closed, with your tongue gently lolled out over your bottom lip--he certainly hadn’t expected you to submit to him like this so easily.

“I can see why Yuji likes you,” Sukuna mused, you gasped loudly when his thick finger penetrated you for the first time, “a needy little bitch in heat, like you?”

He let out a satisfied groan as you convulsed against him, nowhere for you to go as he twisted his finger, left to right and back again, fucking you with little care as his thrusts became almost violent. You cried out when he began to hit his palm quite forcefully against your clit with each thrust of his finger; Sukuna’s dark eyes glared up at you, his thick brows pulling together in the middle of his brow while he snarled at you.

You really were trapped.

“I happen to know you like it rough,” he was smirking, the loud, wet sound that came from between your legs as he removed his finger with a yank make you shrink beneath him.

“But, let’s get one thing straight,” he continued, moaning while he sucked at your sweet juices that soaked his finger, “your little Yuji-Kun won’t ever compare to a demon,” Sukuna watched the panic set in your eyes, felt your thighs shaking against his arms as he angled you up.

“It’ll be so delightful and easy, making you teeter on that edge,” he snarled, “between pain and pleasure until I see fit.”

You yelped uncomfortably when the pad of his heavy thumb pressed into your clit; you heard him chuckle above your cries, pressing against it harder. Sukuna pursed his lips against your inner thigh. You felt his smirk against your skin when his thumb quickly shifted from your clit to your hole; it was without warning, your slick allowing him to pull in and out with ease. But the intrusion made you shudder, followed closely by an uncontainable wail.

“Oh, Princess,” he cooed, talking into your thigh, “you’re going to make over-stimming you so much fucking fun.”

“Wh-what do you mean?” it was a pitiful attempt at finding your voice.

Sukuna either couldn’t hear you or at the very least, he didn’t want to hear you. He dragged his tongue along your delicate skin, playfully nipping at you every few inches.

Oh, how it amused him when you squirmed, afraid of his real bite, perhaps? The thought excited him.

You continued to whimper while Sukuna roamed your thighs, but when he flicked the tip of his tongue across your clit—fucking you with his thumb, his fingernails digging into the flesh of your arsecheeks—you brought your hand to your face, biting down on the flesh of your wrist.

Sukuna ignored you, giving attention to your throbbing clit, using his free hand to spread your lips just a bit more, enough for him to sink his lips down and around you. He loved when you made those whiny, little bleats—so pathetic, so fucking easy.

But, no, this wasn’t enough for Sukuna. He jerked his thumb out—your walls quivered around the empty space—and replaced it with his tongue; he groaned loudly as he sloppily lapped at your dripping, wet cunt.

Crying into your hand, still biting down on your already raw flesh, you felt the pull of your hips, ready to spasm with the release that was building up within your core. Sukuna masterfully worked his way around your insides, tensing the tip of his tongue to satisfy that sweet spot within you.

“Cum for me, Princess,” his deep voice was cast even lower as he growled as he spoke those words, commanding you; you felt a pressure within your pelvis vibrate and coil.

A pretty, choked sob found its way behind your lips as you relaxed your head to the side. The arm you had been using to silence yourself came down on Sukuna’s head so hard he scratched at your outer thigh; that would surely leave a mark. Whether you were willing to admit it or not, the thought excited you, you wanted him to hurt you.

Sukuna seemed frustrated when you didn’t obey his demand.

“I said fucking cum for me, Princess,” he snarled, firmly placing his hands on either side of your arse. You gasped, feeling the sting of him driving the points of his nails into your flesh. “I won’t hesitate to hurt you, y’know,” he continued in between tending to your soft, little cunt, “but I get the feeling you’d—“ he huffed, driving his nails into you, eliciting a strangled, wailing moan from your lips, “—like it.”

A whimpering, twitching mess was all you were beneath Sukuna’s grip. You heard the sloppy, wet noises combining with his hungry moans, tasting as much of you as he possibly could. Leaning back onto his knees, Sukuna noticed the bright flush in your cheeks.

“Sweet, little thing,” he laughed, “look, she’s embarrassed.”

Sukuna delighted in having you as his play-thing, but he wasn’t quite done with you yet. While he stared at you with his impossibly dark eyes, you heard the distinct jostling of a belt being undone; you heard it land with a thud when he discarded it to the side, triggering your body to shudder once more.

He wasn’t impressed with you when you lowered your gaze away.

“No, no, no,” he chuckled, “you will return the favour, Babygirl.”

Your heart beat wildly against your chest, your breathing was nothing but desperate, clamouring gasps as he hoisted you by your hair. Your protesting cries meant nothing to him as he effortlessly pulled you to your knees and the sight of your eyes brimming with tears amused him all the more.

“You’d do it for him, wouldn’t you?” he gave an inflection to his voice, trying to mimic Yuji’s, “It’s still his body, right?”

Sukuna’s grip on your hair tightened while he fiddled with the zip of his trousers, you felt helpless, watching as he relieved his thick, hard cock from its clothed prison. It was Yuji’s body, but like this—when Sukuna felt the need to barge his way in—it was his, not Yuji’s.

“Isn’t it?” he spat, pushing you down toward his crotch, cock in hand.

You may have been too shocked to form words, disjoined syllables tumbling from your lips, but not shocked enough to resist him. You didn’t recoil when your lips pressed against the swollen, wet head of his cock, as he brushed his pre-cum across your lips. In fact, you were eager, Sukuna laughed when you parted your lips, ready to receive him.

“See, it’s not that bad, is it?” he mused as he tugged your head back to look up at him.

You heard him stifle a low growl, looking up at him with your pretty, glassy eyes and your puffy, pink lips.

Whining at him as you placed your hands on either side of his muscular thighs, you were a desperate little pet eager for master’s attention. You didn’t care that he held your weight by your hair, it didn’t matter that it hurt. You didn’t care how aggressive he was; it didn’t matter when it felt this good.

“That’s it,” his smile was devilish, allowing you to lower your head into his lap on your own terms.

When you moved Sukuna’s hand away from his cock, he let out a chortle that made your heart flutter. He was gentle while you teased the aching head of his cock. You were ever so pleased with yourself when you pulled guttural, feral moans from his lips; it was your turn to tease Sukuna. For however long he might allow it, that was.

Which wasn’t long at all, it would seem.

Sukuna was impatient and you were taking far too long, he wanted his dick rammed as far down your throat as he could, and he would. He wasn’t being gentle now, not when he pushed your head down onto him. When you let out a surprised yelp, he took the opportunity to take advantage.

“Fuck,” he hissed while you gagged on the intrusion of his length.

Your throat felt raw, there was no niceness about him now as he held you down. You were sure he would be smirking as you convulsed within his grip, feebly attempting to push against his tensed thighs with very little effect. Yuji might be rough with you, but Sukuna was on a different level, and you quickly understood just how utterly useless any and all attempts to save yourself would be.

It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt, and you knew—for certain—that someone was going to be you.

You closed your eyes and held onto his thighs so tight your knuckles turned white; it was the only thing you could do to distract yourself at that moment. The tears he’d forced from your eyes dripped onto your chest with your clumsy movements. You let out a wail of relief when he pulled you away, even just for a moment, it was welcomed.

"There's a good girl," he grunted, admiring the spit that dribbled down your chin, "there's my good little Princess."

Your moan at his words was cut off by a cruel shove of his hand; you gagged under the duress of him ramming into the back of your throat. He didn't care that you choked and spluttered beneath him, in fact, you knew it excited him; the way his cock twitched with each uncomfortable noise you made told you everything.

Every bone in your body screamed at you to submit to him, you would hope it would be less humiliating than this. Sukuna was surprised when you fell limp within his grasp and jerked you back once more.

“I wasn’t sure I’d break you so easily,” he chuckled, raising his free hand to your tear-stricken face.

You shuddered when his thumb stroked away at your wet cheek. You kept your eyes closed as his hand snaked its way across your face and down to your mouth. He tightened his grip on your hair as he held down hard with his other hand.

Your eyes darted open, Sukuna was a God looking down upon a mere mortal.

He hissed, you felt a heavy pressure against your lips as he used his hand to push you back against the pillow still propped against the bed. He was quick, untangling his hand from your hair to rest it on your inner thigh. He was laughing as his fingers tightened around your thigh, claws pinching at your flesh.

“Open wide, Babygirl,” baring his teeth at you, he looked maniacal, his hulking shape looming over you.

You sobbed helplessly as the mouth on his palm opened up, summoning a tongue that successfully infiltrated your mouth with very little effort. He laughed as your pretty, flushed face twisted, breathing frantically through your nose.

You were unable to make out the words he growled while he dragged his claws along the tender flesh of your inner thigh. The games he’d played with your throat, and consequently your oxygen, had dulled your senses—all except the ones that mattered, of course.

The bottom of his palm hit hard against your abused clit and your eyes widened with realisation. Sukuna smirked, both hands pressing so impossibly hard against both sets of your lips as he leaned into you.

“Just a little more,” he growled, “and then you’ll be ready for me.”

There was no time to think before the hand at your mouth pushed your head back, the finger and thumb on either side of your nostrils were dangerously close to completely restricting your airflow. Another tongue infiltrated your aching hole, he laughed at you as you convulsed beneath him. He allowed you to shake your head from side to side but nothing more, he found your efforts at yet another struggle tempting.

Your hips bucked defiantly beneath his hand as he bore against you. You whimpered against the tongue at your mouth as the one inside your twitching hole tickled against your most sensitive spot. Sukuna brought his face down impossibly close to yours, now gently grinding his palm against your clit; the only thing you felt were tight shocks that battered away within your core.

Sukuna gripped your face with his fingers, careless as his claws almost scratched at your face. When your head was brought up to meet him, your noses touched. It was unnerving.

You felt Sukuna’s tongues retreat. You were conflicted when you felt the gnawing ache of emptiness that was left behind. Formulating thoughts seemed impossible, coherency was nowhere to be found. With heavy-lidded eyes, you lazily watched as Sukuna knelt back.

It was cute, the way you opened your legs even wider for him. It wasn’t enough for Sukuna, nothing ever seemed enough for Sukuna. You felt his clawed hands grip the underside of your tender thighs; your breath shuddered, feeling the wet head of his cock bump against your widened hole.

“Good girl,” he breathed, “open wide.”

There was no other warning than his words as he shunted his hips forward, you moaned low in your throat—a strangled, feral noise—as your dripping wet cunt enveloped his throbbing length with very little ease.

“See,” he grunted, tightening his grip on your thighs, “I can be kind—“ he pulled his entire length, your hole quivered at the empty space, “—when I want to be.”

You wailed as he bottomed out against you, digging his claws into your flesh hard enough to draw blood as he frantically thrust. He’d been patient long enough but, while you’d been a good girl and indulged him, playtime was over.

Your head whirled and your limbs were numb. The only nerves that you felt any connection to were the ones in your pussy, the ones that made it possible to feel every protruding vein of his achingly hard cock The nerves that made it possible to feel every twitch it made as Sukuna put all his weight into you. He grunted, pushing back on your thighs, you yelped when he folded them against your stomach.

Sukuna delighted in hearing the moan you gave him after yet another deep, unrelenting thrust, his pelvis grinding roughly against your clit. You found yourself unraveling beneath him, you no longer felt within your own body.

“Yuji,” you mewled.

It was an easy mistake to make, a mistake that Sukuna did not appreciate. He laughed down at you as he picked up his pace. An unrelenting pace that shunted your body with each and every thrust. A pace that made you see stars.

“Silly little bitch,” he growled, spitting on your cheek, he was surprised when you let out a gasp of arousal, “say my name.”

He watched you convulse beneath him, felt you writhe and twist in his arms. It was delicious. The way your cunt clamped on his cock, tighter and tighter, and harder and harder until your cervix felt bruised.

“You’re mine right now, Princess,” he told you breathlessly, “Say it.”

You felt his spit hit your face again and your pelvis tightened. Things like that were supposed to feel this good, and for a brief moment, an internal struggle between arousal and embarrassment took place. Your arousal when Sukuna spoke.

“Say my fucking name,” was his final demand, but you could only cry out nonsense, “Say it!”

“Su-Sukuna!” you cried, obliged to obey him.

You were rewarded with the relief of Sukuna removing one of his hands from your thighs, too fucked-out to move—or care—your leg still rested against your stomach. He bared his teeth and brought his hand back; you were astonished that he never lost his momentum.

He grunted as he breathed.

“That’s right,” his voice began to waver, close to his own climax, “good girl.”

You could almost believe you weren’t just a piece of meat to him, the way his tongue wrapped around the words he used could make anyone feel special. But you were rudely reminded this was Sukuna, not Yuji, when his swung-back hand collided with your thigh.

The Earth itself could have shattered at that very moment, and all you’d feel would be him; you thought yourself lucky enough to remember your name.

“Good—“ he grunted against your arching hips, begging for more you couldn’t possibly take, “—girl.”

Sukuna juddered on top of you, within you, while his claws made their final assault on your skin, while he buried himself as deep within you as possible. You writhed and mewled beneath him, your hands grasped at the carpet, desperate to hold onto something while the pressure of his hot cum filling your battered cunt overwhelmed you.

There was a faint sting that broke through the pleasure as he continued to roll his hips against you, gently for the time being, now that he was spent.

It astonished you how quickly his breathing returned to normal while you struggled to draw any breaths that felt satisfying, still recoiling and twitching. You could speak only broken gibberish.

Sukuna lowered your legs, you wished he’d more gentle; you winced as your hip joints creaked having been forced into such an uncompromising position. You felt the weight of his chest press against yours and his nose nuzzled gently against the crook of your neck.

There was a tense moment as you lay under him as your senses regained consciousness.

“Yu-Yuji?” you whimpered, tears threatened the edges of your eyes.

The pretty pink man who lay on top of you let out an angered growl, the hands that tightened around your wrists no longer had claws; there was care in the grip.

“I’ll kill him,” you heard him growl, his grip tightening.

“Yuji I’m—“ he didn’t leave you room to finish as he lifted his head, gazing down at you with furrowed eyebrows and bold, dark eyes.

“But first,” he told you, looking down at the mess between where your bodies connected, “it looks like I have to punish you first.”

He looked back to you—was he enjoying this?—and cast a dirty smirk at you.

“Because despite what Sukuna may think or say,” he continued, looming closer to you, his cock twitching with every word, “you haven’t been a good girl, have you, Princess?”

Your lips may have been moving but your voice was inaudible.

“You can thank Sukuna for one thing though, Princess,” he growled, nipping at your neck.

His voice broke when he deliberately moaned in your ear, a sound that made you squirm with delight.

“There’s no more holding back,” was the last thing he said before raising your arms above your head and locking his teeth to your neck.

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multifandomwritings · 4 years ago

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Brahms Heelshire | An Endearing Habit

This is a short oneshot/imagine following up the headcanons I did about the reader talking to themselves, and how Brahms would react. I hope you like it! It’s a bit boring but :^) (Also after rereading it its kinda sad tbh?? I’M SORRY)

Brahms crept as quietly as he could manage through the walls, his head turned, ear nearly pressed to the wall. He followed your voice through the halls of the house, eyes widened with curiosity.

You had, he learned, a very strong habit of talking to yourself. Not only to the doll, but to yourself. It was almost as if you were talking with someone else, but he knew well enough that you weren't.

At first, he suspected that you knew about him, but he fanned the thought out of his head almost as quickly as it appeared. If you knew, you wouldn't be so calm, surely? The thought was almost disappointing to him; you having learned about his existence and barely acknowledging it. You didn't know, he decided — you simply had a habit.

An endearing habit, at that. Your voice carried incoherently through the house, sometimes even reaching him in his room if you were close enough. It made the old place feel lived in, and less alone. He was so used to a quiet, sterile home. Even with his parents around, the two were so silent, so solemn. You chattered on to yourself, and to the doll, even sometimes humming or singing to yourself. He found himself smiling far more than he had in years, listening to you. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make him feel a little less alone.

You stopped in the library, as did he. He lowered himself onto the dusty old floor, crossing his legs in front of him and leaning slightly against the rough wood of the inside of the wall. Outside, you flipped open the pages of a leather-bound book plucked from the shelves of the well-stocked library. You cleared your throat, beginning to read as loudly and clearly as you could manage.

Just inside the wall, Brahms' lips curled into a small smile, glancing over as if to look at you, and then back down at his hands, fumbling slightly in his lap. He hung onto your every word, despite knowing the story well already. He'd read just about every book in the library, or they'd been read to him — many more than once, but he was happy to hear them all over from you.

A bittersweet feeling swelled through him. He loved hearing your voice, but he longed for it to be directed toward him. His heart fluttered at the thought, imagining being able to sit next to you, you reading for him and not the doll. He rested his head against the wall, thinking of you addressing him, interacting with him, knowing him, rather than the doll. He knew better, however. He was to remain hidden away, if you were to stay. He’d frighten you, his parents said — he was to behave, and keep out of sight, otherwise you’d leave.

His eyes widened slightly as he realized you were nearing the end of the chapter. He cursed himself for drifting off into his thoughts, and desperately wished you’d go on and read another. He sighed as he heard you toss the book onto a table with a thud, and start out of the room. You began quietly muttering something to the doll as you left, leaving the real Brahms feeling foolish for envying a chunk of porcelain.

#brahms heelshire x reader #brahms heelshire x you #brahms heelshire imagines #brahms heelshire imagine #brahms heelshire #slashers x you #slasher imagines #slasher imagine #slashers x reader

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shysneeze · 4 years ago

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Do Me a Favour | Fred Weasley x F!Reader

Description: Fred and the reader’s relationship seen through a series of favours

Warnings: its kind of angsty, brief description of injury (umbridge’s detention related) briefly battle of hogwarts related, miscommunication i guess

Tag-List : new form is here for anyone interested in being added

~* Fifth Year *~

“Do me a favour?”

It’s a question (Y/N) has been practicing internally for at least an hour, yet her voice still wobbles as she asks it aloud. Fred, lying back in the grass, soaking in the late summer sun, peeks open one eye to look up at her with a questioning brow.

“Yeah?”

“K-kiss me?”

A second passes before he reacts, sitting bolt upright in an instant, choking slightly on the gasped breath taken in the process. Regret floods her chest with a mortified ache and she finds herself dropping her eyes to the ground and picking at tufts of grass nervously.

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter,” She mumbles, “It’s stupid.”

“Kiss you?” He repeats, “L-like on the lips?”

“I shouldn’t have asked,” She argues embarrassedly, “I was just- I haven’t- it doesn’t matter.”

He blinks at her, confusion pulling his brows into a frown. Confused is probably the only word he can come up with to explain the whole thing, because quite frankly, it’s not everyday your childhood best friend asks you to kiss them. Then, much to (Y/N)’s further mortification, realisation flickers across his face.

“You’ve never kissed anyone?”

He asks it like he’s surprised, something that only goes to confuse (Y/N) herself. Yet she nods, too obviously embarrassed to even attempt to play it off as some elaborate joke or simply fib her way out of it.

“Really?” Fred asks, “And you want me to be your first kiss?”

“I just want it out the way,” She explains hastily, “Don’t go getting big headed about it… it’s just a favour.”

He’s silent, the most silent she’s ever heard him before even, and it does nothing but add to her growing concern that in one fell swoop, she’s managed to ruin sixteen years of friendship. She’s on the verge of what is bound to be an incoherent string of apologies when he finally answers.

“Okay.”

Her breath catches with something between relief and sheer panic.

“Really?”

“What sort of friend would I be if I denied you such a simple favour?”

‘Simple’ is perhaps an underestimation of what she’s asking, and she can see the nervous way he licks his lips despite the grin he throws on instantly to disguise it. She’s gotten this far though, too far to chicken out now with his warm hand cupping one of her cheeks as he leans closer.

The sun has brought out millions of freckles across his pale cheeks, and for the first time she’s so close she could count them. Part of her, a side of her she’s never met before, thinks about tracing her finger across them, connecting them like constellations. Something in her chest twitches at the thought.

“You ready?”

“Don’t make it sound so clinical,” She mumbles.

“Listen, beggars can’t be choosers.”

She smiles, glad for the familiarity of his teasing. It has some of her nerves dissipating, her lungs expanding with a light, freeing breath before she nods.

He’s tentative for only a moment, their lips meeting in the lightest of kisses until she’s instinctively pulling him closer, fingers curled around a handful of his gryffindor tie. He lets out a surprised sound from deep in his throat, though he doesn’t pull back.

In fact, if he knew kissing his best friend might feel this good, he wouldn’t have asked so many questions before doing so in the first place. At the feeling of her grip slipping from his tie, he feels his heart dropping disappointedly, chasing her lips subconsciously as she pulls back.

He watches her contemplative expression, a good distraction from the racing of his heart in his chest and the unexplainable urge to kiss her again. She gives him a wide-eyed look, eyes darting in every direction as she navigates whatever millions of questions are running around her head.

Then, she clears her throat, nodding as she begins to get to her feet and leaving him dazed on the grass with reddening cheeks.

“Thanks,” She says, “I owe you one.”

~ *Sixth Year* ~

“(Y/N),” Fred exclaims happily, portrait door swinging shut behind him as (Y/N) looks up from her book to meet him with a frown, “Just who I was looking for,”

“That’s never good,” She says, slowly closing her book, “When am I busting you out of detention this time?”

“You wound me,” He retorts before dropping onto the couch beside her with, pressing the back of his hand against his forehead with a dramatic flair, “Me? Detention?”

His head lands haphazardly on her lap and she looks down at him with an amused look, shaking her head in teasing disbelief. His lips twitch into a grin, one that (Y/N) knows is just the beginning of what she doubts will be a simple request.

“Do me a favour?”

For a split second, she freezes, a slight shiver crawling up her back at the question, which little under a year ago saw them kissing by the lake. He holds her eyes in a knowing gaze that causes her to nod cautiously.

“Okay…”

“Come to the ball with me?”

Her brows lift into a surprised expression.

“What?”

“The Yule Ball,” He explains, sitting up now to face her properly, “I need a date.”

She gives him a long, questioning, look, searching for some tell-tale signs of a Fred Weasley joke in the makings. Sceptically, she narrows her eyes.

“Why?”

“You owe me one.”

She bristles imperceptibly, gulping at the knowing look that swims in eyes and twitches the corners of his lips into a small smirk.

“That and I left it all a bit last minute, you see,”

She can’t quite decide whether it’s hurt or relief that tugs at her chest at the revelation, that he’s only asking as a last resort. It’s a much more simple version of the scenario she’s been building in her head since he first asked his question, one with far less feelings to get more attached to.

“What if I’ve already said yes to someone else?”

“Well, I have it on good authority that you’ve been turning people down for weeks now,” He raises a brow, “What’s that about? Holding onto hope of being asked by someone special?”

The teasing tone he’s going for comes out strained in a way (Y/N) has never heard from him before and she frowns for a second at it before rolling her eyes.

“No, I’m not,” She answers, “I just didn’t feel like going with them.”

“So, what you’re saying is that you don’t have a date?” He says, “And neither do I… how convenient.”

She lets out a short scoff, shaking her head in disbelief at the pleading puppy-dog look he’s managed to perfect in just a few seconds. She exhales a loud reluctant sigh that has the corners of his mouth pulling into a smile.

“Is that a yes?”

“Hmm,” She nods, “I guess,”

“How romantic.”

“Ah well, as a wise boy once said, beggars can’t be choosers.” She manages a smirk of her own, “Perhaps next time you’ll find yourself a date sooner than a week before the dance.”

Something in Fred’s face drops for only a split second, and not even their years of friendship helps her read it. It’s only a moment before he’s disguising it again with a lopsided grin and a playful shove.

“Shut up,”

~* Seventh Year *~

Fred’s finger tips are warm as they trace the red-raw words scratched into the back of (Y/N)’s hand, lookin from it up to her eyes with a look she knows means a lecture. She sniffles slightly, twisting away from him to plan her counter argument.

“Before you say anything,” She starts, “Your hand is just as bad so don’t start on my detentions.”

“I wasn’t going... “ He sighs, “Well, I was, but you’re right. I’m just trying to figure out how to get the pink hag back for it.”

“Don’t do anything stupid... I’m fine.”

Fred let’s put a disagreeing grumble.

“Fred,” She says warningly.

“I know,” He breathes out reluctantly, “I just worry when it’s you.”

She turns back to face him, hoping to catch whatever expression has followed such a revelation, but she’s too late, finding him instead twisting away from her to search through his bedside table drawer. He returns with a small jar of healing balm, what she’d come to his dorm for in the first place, or at least that’s what she’s telling herself.

“What happened this time?”

“I missed curfew again,” (Y/N) mumbles, hissing in a breath when the balm touches the open wound, “I was at the library trying to teach myself the bloody defence course since she won’t- ouch.”

“Done,” He assures with a soft smile, “Wuss.”

“It’s not that when you’re the injured one,” She teases, though she’s not feeling quite up to it, “I can’t believe this is how we’re spending our last year.”

“I know.”

She’s not sure what’s causing the tears that have welled in her eyes though, certainly not from the sting of the healing balm or even the general pain from the scar itself. Yet she can’t help the tears that have begun to fall from her lashes and slip down her cheeks.

“Hey-” Fred looks up, brown eyes wide in surprise, “What’s going on?”

“Sorry,” (Y/N) hiccups, wiping her eyes hastily, “I don’t know why i’m crying.”

“Take your time,” Fred says, rubbing soothingly at her back, “It’s okay,”

“It’s all just a bit much isn’t it.” She manages after a moment, “Newts are hard enough but now w-we’ve got this absolute psychopath of a defence teacher who doesn’t actually teach, we’re training to fight deatheaters and- it’s just a bit much.”

“I know what you mean,” He admits solemnly, “It’s pretty messed up.”

“Sorry, it’s stupid.” She shakes her head, “Everyones going through the same thing-”

“Don’t do that.” He frowns, “That doesn’t mean you don’t get to be upset about it, (Y/N).”

“I know but-”

She hears him click his tongue against his teeth disapprovingly, and she can picture him rolling his eyes though she doesn’t have time to see for herself, not with his arm around her shoulder as he curls her into his chest.

She freezes, as if this is something bizarre, as if they’ve not shared hugs a million times growing up. This is protective though, like in his arms, for even just a moment, he’s protecting her from everything wrong in the world.

“Fred?” She sniffles against his chest, “Do me a favour?”

“Anything, (Y/N).”

“Just- just hold me for a bit.”

His breath catches, heat blossoming in his chest as he pulls her closer, running his fingers through her hair in a soothing motion.

“Of course.”

~* Post-Hogwarts*~

“Do me a favour?”

(Y/N), seconds from falling asleep, fit perfectly between Fred and the back of the sofa, peers up at him with bleary eyes and soft smile.

“Of course.” She exhales tiredly.

“Be with me.”

She freezes, replaying it over and over in her head, not entirely sure she’s not dreaming. At her silence, he lets out a sharp noise that sends a jolt of panic into her body, waking her up well and truly. She lets out a choked sound as his arms unravel from her waist and a chill hits her as he begins to pull back.

“What?”

“It’s late-” He begins to backtrack.”I’ve got to open up shop tomorro-”

“What did you just say, Fred?”

He gives her a look that's almost pained.

“Don’t make me say it again.” He pleads, “Let’s just forget about it-”

“You… You like me?”

He lets out a sound close to a pained laugh that lodges itself in his throat as he twists awkwardly away from her. A deep crimson colour has begun to creep up his neck and he pulls nervously at his shirt collar in a meek attempt to combat it.

“I’ve not been very subtle, (Y/N).”

“Clearly you have!” (Y/N) bursts, only shrinking with the realisation that, just down the hall, George is sleeping in his room. “Since when?”

“Since you kissed me,” He exclaims exasperatedly, “Favour bloody one.”

She stands, suddenly hit by the need to pace, to move around as she deals with all the questions that race through her head. Gulping, Fred watches her move, suddenly afraid that he’s made this favour their last.

Then, she comes to a stop.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“An idiot,” (Y/N) repeats, “You made me feel like the last resort for the yule ball, but you’re telling me that was serious?”

“Hey,” He frowns, “It was serious right until you started giving me this look like I was insane and I had to cover my arse somehow-”

“Shut up,”

She drops herself onto his lap, cupping his cheeks in her hands and holding his face there, inches from her own. He watches, frozen in awe, as her eyes dance across his face. She’s tracing his freckles again, close enough to be mesmerised all over again.

“Since we’re pretty terrible with signals,” She exhales, “When I kiss you now… it’s not just a favour.”

“Thank Merlin for that.”

~* The Battle of Hogwarts*~

Hogwarts has never felt so different.

Standing here now, it’s hard for (Y/N) to imagine these are the same hallways they once walked down, that she and Fred used to sneak through in the dark for midnight snacks and linger outside of before teachers arrived.

Tucked into an alcove of the corridor, Fred and (Y/N) watch the havoc unfolding, keenly aware of what lies ahead, the war that’s been looming over them all year. He holds her hand in his own, squeezing it as reassuringly as he can manage as she chews nervously on her bottom lip.

“It’s going to be okay, right?”

“Of course, Love,” He smiles, lifting a hand to gently caress her cheek, “We’ll be fine.”

She nods, melting into his warm touch. But nothing eases the weight that has settled on her chest, the anxious feeling that is telling her everything is about to go wrong. She searches his eyes for something familiar to cling onto.

“I don’t like us not sticking together,” Fred admits quietly, “We should be where we can keep an eye on each other.”

“I promised Madam Pomfrey I’d help with the injured,” (Y/N) admits sadly, “And you should be with George.”

“I know,” He breathes, “I just don’t like it,”

She smiles sadly in agreement.

“Me either,” She admits, “but I’ll be fine… I’ve always had better defence marks than you anyway,”

Much to (Y/N)’s relief, Fred laughs, bringing back a sense of normality, even if just for a moment. The hand on her cheeks pinches her playfully and his brown eyes roll with a teasing glint to them.

“Look at you, joking in a crisis,” He teases, “I’m so proud,”

“I’ve known you long enough to have picked up some sort of ill-timed sense of humour,”

He lets out a short chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I love you, (Y/N),”

“I love you too,”

He leans in to capture her lips in a gentle kiss, a practiced art that has a well-known warmth flooding (Y/N)’s chest. Yet, as he pulls back, he leaves something bitter sweet behind, the ache of a goodbye kiss.

“I should go,” He admits, “Before we end up caught up in the crowds, right?”

“Yeah,”

“I’ll see you once it’s all over,” He grins, “When we’ve won,”

It takes a moment for (Y/N) to convince herself to let go of his hand and feels suddenly cold once it’s gone. He’s turning away with one last wave when she calls him back, heart hammering in her chest.

“Do me a favour?”

He pauses before breaking into a small smile.

“Always, Love.”

“Don’t die.”

“I promise.”

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred x reader #fred imagine #fred imagines #fred x you #fred weasley x you #reader insert #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fluff #fred and george #fred weasley

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delimeful · 3 years ago

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my virtues uncounted (6)

warnings: panic attack, fear, arguing

there will probably be an epilogue after this, but we're nearing the end of this story! :)

Virgil floated into consciousness with surprisingly little pain, considering the last thing he remembered was bleeding out from a stab wound.

He wasn’t entirely sure how the others’ returned after discorporating-- they weren’t much in the habit of randomly sharing vulnerabilities-- but for him, it was always rushed, his reformation slapdash at best. It was probably part of being Anxiety: he couldn’t stand the idea of being ‘out of it’ for long, not when anything could be happening to Thomas with his influence muted.

So, he would come back to himself with whatever injury that killed him barely knitted back together, and grit his teeth and bear it for the next few weeks while it slowly healed. One of his recurring nightmares was the Light Sides finding out about it, using it to keep him out of commission to ‘help’ Thomas. It seemed… less likely, after meeting them.

Meeting them. Right. He’d done that.

A low thrum of panic in his gut chased the lingering sleepiness from him, and he pushed himself into a sitting position as quickly as he dared, figuring that he might as well test the boundaries of his lack of stab wound pain before he snuck over to check that the core parts of Thomas had all made it through okay. Or before he encountered Remus again.

The first thing he registered was that there wasn’t any pain, none at all.

The second thing was that everything was proportionally huge around him.

The third thing was that these absolutely were not the Dark Side commons.

His heart rate spiked immediately as he whipped his head around, staring at what could only be the Light Side common area. He’d only caught a glimpse of it before, with the whole ‘bleeding out’ thing, and it looked impossibly different from where he stood on the living room table. Now that he was paying attention, he could feel the way Thomas was so much closer here than in the Subconscious, like the difference between shallow water and the depths.

He shook himself. Now wasn’t the time to get caught up in how much easier core Sides had it. There were bigger things to worry about, literally. He hadn’t discorporated, he was in the Conscious part of the mind, and he was tiny-- through no doing of his own.

Oh. They wanted revenge.

Virgil kicked away the assortment of tiny blankets around him and got to his feet, blood rushing in his ears. He’d been an asshole to them while they were stuck in the Subconscious, so they were returning the favor. Why else would they have healed him and turned him pocket-sized? It was the only explanation that made sense.

The commons were just shy of completely disorienting while empty, so he certainly wasn’t going to stick around for something as overwhelming as a Side to appear. He hurried to the edge of the table, eyeing the drop with no little trepidation. Was he lighter like this, or would he land heavily on the carpet below and break half his bones?

He shouldn’t risk it. No point in doing half the work for his captors.

If he could get a running start to the other end of the table, he might be able to make the jump to the couch, though. From there… maybe pushing a pillow to the ground. Could he even move a pillow at this size?

Another shudder worked its way through him, something small and terrified in the back of his mind shrieking at the way everything around him had changed. Had this been how the others had felt? He shook his head, stepping back from the edge and turning to face the other end of the table. He couldn’t freak out yet. Not until he was safe.

There was a distant phone alarm, the generic sort that Thomas had come to resent after using it for his morning alarm for months on end. Virgil felt a chill of foreboding pass over him, and a heartbeat later, he heard the telltale woosh of one of the core Sides rising up next to the table.

Their shadow fell over Virgil, impossibly large, and he bolted.

There was a voice, but he couldn’t pick out the words past the blood rushing in his ears, his own breathing, and the panicked rush of thoughts that came with picking flight. He focused on the jump ahead instead, the length of table ahead of him growing shorter and shorter until he was nearly to the edge, muscles tensed to leap.

The light around him being blocked out was the only warning he got before his view of the world was suddenly cut off. Half a second later, his momentum was halted by a collision with something soft, warm, and alive. He recoiled as sharply as he could, but there were already what could only be fingers curling around him, his stomach dropping as he was lifted clear off the table’s surface, his center of gravity shifting against his will.

If he hadn’t been panicking before, he certainly was now, his breaths coming shallow and shaky, barely bringing in any air as black spots started to dot his vision.

He was in someone’s hand. They could do anything to him, and he wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop it, would probably deserve it, but it would hurt and couldn’t they have just let him discorporate--

The low, calm voice that had been rumbling in the background paused for a moment, and then they were moving again, his nausea growing as everything moved too fast around him, like a car someone else was driving but a hundred times worse.

And then, abruptly, there was solid ground under his feet again. The hand opened around him.

Virgil dropped to his hands and knees immediately, pressing his forehead against the table to both quell his dizziness and find something to ground himself. He was hyperaware of the warmth emanating from the hand that still bracketed him on one side, like a shield or a threat.

The Side was still talking, though Virgil still couldn’t quite parse the words. Despite his incoherence, the hand didn’t even twitch, no underlying threat to whatever it was they were saying to him. His breathing settled a bit despite himself. The implied promise that they weren’t going to outright attack him shouldn’t have been so reassuring, but it was.

His head slightly clearer, he slowly pushed himself back up to sit back on his heels, looking up to see who had found him.

It was undoubtedly Logan, though he’d never seen those glasses and tie at such a warped scale before. He could have figured it out earlier, if he’d just been listening; neither Roman nor Patton tended to be so carefully enunciated with their words.

Logan’s words, right. He was counting, which confused Virgil for a moment-- was this an experiment? Something to see how long the local idiot spent caught up in a panic attack when he was supposed to be a survival instinct-- until he caught on to the way Logan’s chest rose and fell along with the numbers. A breathing exercise.

He was kind of surprised, in that pleasant ‘pessimist-proven-wrong’ sort of way, but it figured that the Sides up here would offer even their captive literal time to breathe. He let himself follow along with the pattern for a few more moments before clearing his throat roughly and forcing himself to speak.

“Hey.”

Logan paused, looking down at him. “Hello.”

There was a short, slightly awkward pause, in which Logan seemed to flounder while Virgil refused to apologize for being kidnapped and reduced to doll size, even if he’d just had a completely image-ruining breakdown over it.

“Are you alright?” Logan finally settled on, his gaze piercing as it swept over him as though searching for injuries. “I apologize for not warning you, but I needed to stop you from recklessly endangering yourself. I didn’t intend for my actions to trigger a panic attack.”

“Yeah, who would freak out over some little old thing like being picked up by a giant hand,” Virgil snapped back sharply, his sarcasm coming out a little less biting than usual after such a draining attack. “It’s not like I’m the embodiment of Anxiety or anything.”

“You are Anxiety, though.” Logan shifted, the motion jarring his hand slightly, and Virgil barely managed to contain his flinch. “And as such, I’m surprised that you would entertain the idea of unnecessarily trying to fling yourself off of a considerable height at your size.”

Virgil squinted at him, trying to figure out if he was serious. “Unnecessarily?”

“Clearly? I cannot imagine why your first solution would be to attempt something so risky, though it’s possible I’m missing some vital context,” Logan replied, his face scrunching up slightly in confusion. “Perhaps the others--,” he lifted a hand.

“Wait!” A surge of panic forced Virgil to his feet, but it was too late. The summons registered, and Creativity and Morality wasted virtually no time in rising up, both of them instantly looking to him instead of Logan.

“Anxiety!” they both cried, and they didn’t sound mad, but that didn’t really mean anything, did it?

They crowded forward, and Virgil couldn’t keep himself rigid this time, his whole body jerking back and bumping into Logan’s hand.The mixed signals-- hide versus get away-- left him frozen, cowering under that pitiful defense.

“Anxiety?” Patton tried, and the concern in his voice was enough to convince him to look up and meet the other Side’s gaze. “Are you okay, kiddo?”

“I’m stuck in a room with three giants, what do you think?” he spat automatically, his shoulders hunching up like they could protect him.

Patton’s mouth twisted in a sympathetic sort of way, and he moved to sit, scrunching his body down slightly so that he was more-or-less level with the table. “It’s all kind of overwhelming, huh?”

With a simple glance from the moral Side, Roman followed suit and Logan settled back on his heels, having already been kneeling. Virgil stared between the three of them, his skin prickling with nerves.

Behind him, Logan’s hand moved. Virgil immediately crouched, ducking his head down and lifting his arms in an ineffective attempt to ward off whatever was happening. There was a beat of silence, and when he glanced up, he found that Logan had simply retracted his hand, apparently convinced that Virgil wasn’t planning on a repeat of his escape attempt. Or that the three huge Sides surrounding Anxiety was enough of a cage in itself.

“We’re not going to hurt you, Jack and the Beanstalker,” Roman lied, doing an impressive job of sounding confused and harmless. “You’re not in the Subconscious anymore.”

A bitter laugh bubbled up in Virgil, one that he didn’t bother to stifle. “Yeah, right. I’m not an idiot, Princey. Remus got you all twisted up over what he did and I was an asshole and now you’re paying the favor forward, I get it. You don’t have to lie about it.”

The three of them exchanged complicated glances, ones that admittedly looked more upset and horrified than conspiring, but Virgil refused to buy the act.

“We’re not lying to you!” Roman insisted, making Virgil scoff. Patton’s face started to take on that kicked-puppy cast, and Virgil averted his gaze, feeling hot anger bubble up in him at Patton’s involvement. How was any of this right and moral?

“I live with Deceit, you’re not going to fool me. Just get whatever you’re going to do to me over with,” he forced out, grimacing when his voice wobbled slightly at the end.

“Anxiety.” Logan leaned forwards, meeting his gaze with utmost seriousness. “Perhaps it will help if you understand our motives for your current state. Can you tell me how much you remember from our escape?”

“Remus found us and turned me into a pincushion,” Virgil deadpanned, a hand moving to settle over his gut. He knew now that he probably hadn’t discorporated, but he could still barely believe that there was no pain there. Core Sides could just do that? “And then you three decided to turn me pincushion-sized, I guess. How is that not revenge?”

“It was to save your life!” Roman cried dramatically, looking very put-out. “And to keep you from going back to the Subconscious and my brother, y’know, the guy who was tormenting us for fun!”

“To save my-- we can’t die!” Virgil snarled, pushing his complex feelings about Remus down in favor of twisting the fabric of his hoodie in his hands. “You trapped me up here, no room, no powers, no height, and you expected me to be grateful?!”

“We weren’t trying to trap you,” Patton interjected, looking between him and Roman worriedly. “And we aren’t going to hurt you, I promise.”

Roman, who had drawn himself up in outraged offense, visibly deflated. “Patton’s right. You know he wouldn’t lie to you about something like this.”

Virgil hesitated despite himself.

“The problem of your current stature is one that we know how to fix,” Logan took the opportunity to add, fiddling with his tie. “Once you summon your room to this level of the mind, you will be able to find security and power within it, and we won’t bother you while you recover your lost energy.”

“Woah, woah,” Virgil held his hands up to stall further explanation, feeling thrown off. “Who said anything about putting my room up here?”

Roman raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “What, you want to be that size around a vengeful Remus?”

“I wouldn’t be this size if you hadn’t meddled!” Virgil snapped, scowling fiercely

“We weren’t going to just let you die,” Patton burst out, looking downright distraught. “You saved us. You didn’t want to rise up and you knew it would make your friends upset, but you did it anyhow. It wouldn’t be right, to just… not try to save you back!”

Virgil gaped for a moment, his next prepared retort completely upended. “No, I… that’s my job. Of course I did that. You don’t owe me for it.”

“Anxiety, Roman prevented your discorporation because he wanted to help you. Not to repay a perceived debt,” Logan informed him, his words stiff but genuine.

Roman shot Logan a look, heaving a dramatic sigh before turning back to Virgil. “All of us wanted to help, Gloomy B. Jones. Who wouldn’t choose to revive a party member who nearly perished heroically on a quest?”

In what universe was Roman calling him a hero? Inside his hoodie pocket, Virgil pinched himself, his confusion rising when everything refused to turn out to be a dream. Even a terrible plot twist like that would be more understandable to him than whatever was happening right now.

For that matter, they couldn’t really be implying what he thought they were implying.

“You really want me to pull my room up here. And be a… a core Side.”

Looking from face to face, he found no trace of anger or mockery, only earnestness. A genuine offer. He shook his head, his heart somehow racing even harder.

“What about when I have to do the other part of my job? The part you guys all hate me for?” he reminded them harshly. “I bet you won’t be so keen on my presence then.” He could easily imagine how well that would go over. Could a Side be cast out from both parts of the mind?

Patton shuffled forward a bit, his hands flapping like he wanted to reach out reassuringly but knew that Virgil would absolutely lose his shit if he even tried. “It’s like you said, kiddo. You want to keep Thomas safe, and we want that, too!”

“You’ve more than proven yourself willing to compromise when it counts,” Logan said, and then added wryly, “Statistically, the three of us already spend a fair amount of our time arguing before we come to a decision anyways.”

“Seriously?” Virgil asked, and Logan gestured to the necktie emphatically.

“That’s right! You may be as contrary as your jittery little heart desires, and you’ll still be in excellent company,” Roman piped up, gesturing to himself magnanimously. After a moment, he let the posturing fade into something more serious. “Anxiety, we don’t have to agree on everything for you to deserve better. Won’t you at least give us a chance?”

Virgil scrubbed his hands through his hair roughly, turning away despite his misgivings. Apart from that first incident with Logan, they hadn’t grabbed him, hadn’t even touched him despite knowing that he couldn’t do anything to stop them. At some point between that first disastrous meeting and now, they’d stopped treating him like an enemy.

He’d have to go back down there and explain at some point, but he couldn’t deny that the idea of not being repressed was one that seemed almost too good to be true. Deceit wouldn’t be happy, but maybe this would be the proof they all needed, that separating the Sides and hiding some of them from Thomas wasn’t working as well as they pretended it did.

It could be an opportunity. It could be… good.

“Alright,” he said, turning back to where they’d all been waiting, “I’ll pull my room up. I’ll-- I’ll try. That’s the best you’re going to get.”

And as the others cheered or smiled victoriously, he felt like maybe it was worth a shot after all.

#sanders sides #sanders sides g/t #sanders sides fic #ts virgil #ts logan #ts roman #ts patton #remus and janus are mentioned #g/t #mvu #my virtues uncounted #my writing #writing

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