#It's against the natural order of things god damn it!

[saints-who-never-existed]

I do feel the need to talk just a little bit more about Tozer's weird reluctance to challenge or act against Hickey actually.

"This needn't be a second mutiny." he says.

But why the fuck not, Solomon?

You've literally already committed a mutiny! Why why WHY are you suddenly drawing a line in the sand at the idea of committing another one?

You were willing to set yourself in opposition to the Royal Navy, to the whole British fuckin' Empire, really! So why are you now so unwilling to/incapable of railing against the will of just one single strange wee man?

[whateverwillbewilderme]

Ford f*cks you in the name of science

Word count:2085

Warnings:F/M, medical kink, medical experimentation, examination, sexual experimentation, dubious consent, internal camera, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, friends to… something, sexual inexperience, bad sexual conduct in general

You gotta love Ford really. He’s smart, kind, and handsome too. There’s lots to love about a man who loves his family and only strives to be better for the sake of them and science. But god damn can he be stupid sometimes.

“Naturally, I’ll compensate you for your help today [name],” Ford says more professionally than the situation calls for. More than it deserves actually. It’s hard to be professional when your legs are up in stirrups and the only thing shielding your crotch from being visible to Ford is a thin sheet he gave you.

“And why exactly do you need to study my vagina ford?” You ask brusquely.

“Well- not your vagina exactly, your pelvic muscles. I need to see how your muscles react to certain stimuli.” He seems to stammer a bit at the bluntness of your question. But his answer seems ‘sciencey’ enough for you to believe he has no dubious intentions.

He turns away from the janky examination chair he set up for you and grabs what could be confused for a vibrator bullet connected to a long wire from his desk. “I made this specifically for this study, using the simplistic design of a common bullet vibrator with a hidden camera!” It’s odd how proud Ford is of his little creation, holding it up like it was the newest phone that everyone would go crazy over. “I will insert this inside you to capture the movements of your vaginal canal while the stimuli is in motion.” He explains naturally, his genius mind on science-mode (as you heard Stanley call it affectionately).

“So you’re gonna make me cum to see how my body reacts from the inside?” You clarify.

“Precisely my dear!” He says, proud that you understand. “I’m sure this will be helpful in my studies of reproductive biology in anomalies in gravity falls! If I completely understand coitus from a human perspective I can use it as a basis for my hypothesis for anomaly breeding!”.

You decide that this is weird and Stanford is way too excited to do this. But he is a good friend, so you suppose you can suffer through the awkwardness of letting your best friend make you cum. “ I guess that sounds reasonable.”

“Wonderful [name]! We must get straight to this!” Of course no foreplay. Ford's hands eagerly pull the sheet covering you off quickly, leaving you to try and clench your thighs closed instinctively. The stirrups hold strong enough against your attempt though and your movements are hopeless.

Ford turns back to his desk, fiddling with the computer to turn on his insertable camera. Once making sure it works correctly, he grabs a plain bottle of lube coating the metal frame of the camera completely before turning back to you. “Now, are you ready?” He says, excited to continue his experiment. You can only nod once before the tip of the camera is pressed against your entrance. A sharp intake of air and a grunt is enough to get Ford to slow down. “Sorry- sorry- should I have been slower?” Ford asks genuinely. “Fuck yeah, Ford! No prep or nothing?” You growl, “You’re this old and you still don’t know it’ll hurt if you force something inside me?”

The lubed-up camera almost slips out of Ford's six-finger grip as you reprimand him. In his defense, he does look guilty. “I’m sorry- I’m very unaware of human women’s body behavior- I wasn’t particularly popular with women when I was younger and the aliens I came across only copulated to reproduce.” He explained. For the first time, his cheeks flush a little in embarrassment. “You- you might have to teach me how to ‘warm you up’.” He infers, unsure of how to refer to the act. A sigh escapes you as you realize this is probably gonna be longer than you wanted it to go for. “God- okay. Grab the lube again, and put that damn camera down.” You order. He follows the orders quickly, dropping his precious invention on a medical tray and returning with the bottle, looking at you eagerly waiting for the next order. “Fuck… okay now did you bring an actual vibrator or something?” You ask, ashamed that this is a conversation you have to have. “Why would I?” He says obliviously.

What.

“Ford, what were you going to use to stimulate me exactly?” You ask exasperated.

“My penis of course?” He responds as if you asked a dumb question. “This is to study breeding habits in creatures, so I need to see how you react to an actual penis, not some plastic toy that goes vroom.”

“So you were going to fuck me. You were going to fuck me and you didn’t even tell me?” Ford immediately understands how fucked that sounds.

“…”

he’s embarrassed now.

“I understand where your worry is coming from now.” He mutters.

You sigh, almost ashamed at how dumb this genius could be. “Ya know what it’s fine. Totally chill.” You say, trying to convince yourself. “Let’s just get this over with.” He only nods silently, still too ashamed to say anything else.

“Put some lube on your fingers and s-start rubbing my…” you can only gesture to your crotch, too embarrassed to fully speak out the steps. He covers his index and middle fingers with a generous amount of gel but hesitates to actually touch. He lets out a shaky breath before the pads of his sticky fingers press down on your clit, slathering some of the lubricant over the small bundle of nerves before rubbing small circles over it.

It’s a shame how unsexy this scenario is because his hands do feel really good. Or maybe it’s just been too long since you’ve been properly fucked. Your breath hitches as he caresses you gently, putting down a little more pressure when he notices your breath change. “Yeah- like that.” You choke out, trying to keep any moans from slipping past your lips. You can feel a pulse in your core, and when ford drags his fingers down your slit they come back glistening with a layer of your arousal coating them. Ford continues the motions for a few minutes, getting the hang of the movements well enough that your thighs tense around the edges of the leg rests. “You- you can try slipping a finger in. Gently.” You say, biting down on your lip. He doesn’t nod or say anything, just moving his attention to your weeping hole. His eyes are trained on the whole mess between your legs, as if creating a mental diagram of what your messy pussy looks like right now. He pushes his index finger in, slowly moving it in deeper until he’s in at the knuckle.

“Fascinating. Your muscles relax as stimulation is given, allowing for more to be inserted.” He mumbles to himself. Removing his hand, he grabs the forgotten and cold camera. “Forgive me, but I think it’s best we start using this now before we go to far ahead.” He insists. Luckily this time there’s no resistance, and it slips in easily, your walls forming around it. His eyes are trained towards the monitor showing the feedback of the camera. His fingers slip back in, now two instead of one. Clenching your eyes shut and breathing deeply, a small moan escapes past your lips as ford watches the screen, moving his fingers at a steady pace. “Good. Good. You’re clenching around them you know? Oh well I’m sure you do know, you probably feel it more than I do.” He says, mind on auto pilot.

“F-fuck…”

“Hmm? Is this affecting you now? It must be since your body is responding so strongly. You’re wet too. I knew women created their own lubrications but this is more than I expected. My fingers are soaked [name].” It’s terrible how good he sounds when he’s not even trying to talk dirty. You can’t help but let your noises out now, you’re lightheaded from keeping them in for so long. “Ah- ford- it’s just a lot-“ you try and say between cries of pleasure.

“If this is a lot how will you take my cock, hmm? Please just be good and let me continue with my studies a little longer, okay?” He asks, voice low and intimidating, but so fucking hot.

He removes his fingers and while he initially moves to wipe the slick off of it on his pants, he curiously brings them to his lips, licking off whatever juices still soaked him. “How… interesting.” He simply says. “We’ll have to do this again. I’d like to see how you react to oral stimulation next time.” He suggests, his (now clean) hands reaching to undo his belt next. Pushing down his pants and underwear In one motion his cock springs up, already hard.

Looking down at it you can’t help but be a little intimidated. Fords not exactly a small man, and his manhood isn’t either. It’s a nice and satisfying 7 inches or so and delightfully girthy. Little grey curly hairs bunch up around the base of it but it doesn’t make his cock any less attractive. Too busy ogling at his member, ford smirks as he lines himself up to your entrance. “I’m glad you like it.” He says cockily. Ford grunts as he thrusts in slowly, his inches stretching you further despite the prepping. His hands grip down onto the chair as he forces the rest of his length inside. “Fuck- i get it now. Your- so fucking tight!” He growls, leaning over you in a pure display of dominance.

“You��re squeezing me so well you know?” He rasps. his hand takes your chin and forces your gaze on the monitor. “Look. Do you see how your body reacts to me?” It’s impossible to speak right now, head to hazy to think about forming sentences right now. All you can manage to mumble out is a “uh-uh” between moans, eyes trained on the camera feed showing fords cock piston in and out of you.

A particularly harsh thrust causes the tip of fords cock so deep that it bumps against your cervix. It hurts, but the pain mixes deliciously with the immense pleasure you also feel that you decide you don’t mind. “Ford-“ you cry out, walls spasming as you cum, muscles tightening around fords cock. “There it is… that’s what I wanted to see…” he growls, watching the screen intently. Looking back down at you, ford grips down on your hips hard and thrusts faster, chasing his own high now. The change in pace makes your thighs shake, moaning wildly as he pummels into you. “See? I said you’d be compensated didn’t I? Doesn’t this feel good darling? If you like this maybe I can tempt you into joining me in some more studies. You’d like that wouldn’t you [name], always such a good friend…” he moans, getting off to his own words. “Fuck- fuck- fuck- my good little experiment-“ he moans before shoving himself in as deep as he can, burying himself in your pussy as he cums, The sudden feeling of fullness choking you. The camera view is blurred by white as he fills your pussy up, some even leaking out of you and dripping onto the chair.

A few moments pass before either of you even attempt to speak, the only sounds in the lab being pants for air. You’re disappointed when ford pulls out of you, followed by a stronger drizzle of his cum pooling out onto the table too. “Hah- thank you for your participation in this project [name].” Ford sighs, cock still twitching. You can only mutter an “Uh-huh…” as you come back down from your high. Ford turns to his computer again to turn off the camera feed, grabbing a clean towel from the medical cart beside him and turning back to you. Pulling out the camera by its cord, he tosses it onto the cart before he spends some time toweling you down.

“I enjoyed this, enjoyed you dear. For more than the science.” He admits, his eyes meeting yours. “I um- I did too ford. Did you really mean it when you said you wanted to do this again?” You ask, pulling your tired legs down from the stirrups. One of fords hands grabs one of your legs as you pull it down, then he leans in and leaves a kiss on the inside of your thigh.

“Dear… I’d love to do this again.”

[bakugoushotwife]

OMG GIRL

i just got a brilliant idea,

ok so roommate gojo finds reader in only a shirt (his shirt btw ;)) and underwear

and then things just get absolutely dirty

i hope you like this idea just as much as i do!!!

thanks so much 🫶🏻

a/n: god i wanna kiss u on the mouth for these sometimes. this has been in the forefront of my mind for days!!! it went a little off the rails babe ngl

cw: pervy gojo, yandere-esque gojo, he's obssessed and delulu. unprotected sex, facefucking, fingering and oral (fem receiving), mating press, breeding, daddy, pet names, mean-ish roommate gojo, size kink, panty stealing, uh lemme know if i missed anything. will go back and edit!

wc: 4.5k

Lucky Day (Satoru Gojo x fem!reader)

This apartment was so shitty, and your landlord was even worse. Your roommate was at work, so there really was no other option. The pipes on the washer bursted, spraying the outfit you had on and making sure you couldn’t wash anymore. It was a miracle that you managed to turn the water to the washing machine off, you felt like a goddamn plumber from that alone. You even accomplished ordering a new pipe, only problem being it wouldn’t arrive for three more days. 

With a heavy sigh, you peel off your soaked crop top and sling it in your hamper, sliding off your shorts and underwear as well, truly unlucky. The only mercy shining upon you at this point was being home alone as you sprint to your room naked. You can only imagine the endless teasing that you would receive if Satoru was here. 

You grumble about your misfortune under your breath, pilfering through your drawers to find a new outfit to put on. Of course, you would be so unlucky yet again. You look up to the gods with narrowed eyes, as if this was personal. Really, it’s your own fault, damn the procrastination tendency you struggled with. You just had random pairs of socks and a Christmas themed onesie. You were honestly grateful to locate a red lace thong that was venturing closer to the shoelace side of size. You tug the poor excuse for underwear up your thighs, letting them slap against your hips in frustration. You had to put something on, your roommate was a huge tease, the gorgeous motherfucker. It was highly annoying, though you imagine if you were so unnervingly beautiful you may act the same way. In any event, walking around topless was not an option. You can practically hear the sarcastic whip of his voice dripping off his tongue right now. 

“Oh-ho-ho, did I come home or did I walk into a titty bar?” 

“And you swear you don’t want me, sweetheart?” 

“Aw, how did you know I had a bad day?” 

Each line makes you shiver. He was impossible to deal with, but he kept the rent low. As much as you hate to admit it he was nice to look at too, though you were hell bent on keeping that to yourself. He knew it anyway, there was no need to inflate his already massive ego. Why would you tell him? It would just be embarrassing, especially with his naturally outgoing nature. He would rip you apart if you admitted how you may actually feel about your snarky counterpart. You were nothing special to look at anyway, it would be silly to get your hopes up. Maybe he was annoying, but parts of you enjoyed him pestering you all hours of the day and scaring any potential suitors away. 

You would definitely never hear the end of it if you didn’t cover up soon, the clock ticking closer and closer to his typical arrival time. You groan. The only solution was putting on something of his. This route would still produce plenty of jabs, but at least you could potentially explain what had happened. You dart across the hall to his room, yanking open his drawers. You’ve been in his room several times, but it’s always slightly surprising each time. He’s cleaner than you’d think, and the room is decorated very minimally. You rummage through his dresser, finally locating a black tee. You’ve seen this one on him before, and it fits him like a second layer of skin, but you’re around a foot shorter, so it should serve to cover your chest comfortably. You tug it over your head, humming in satisfaction. It falls just above your knees, more dress than shirt. You sigh once more at the outfit pairing, but you return to your room all the same. You decide to curl up with a book until your nuisance comes home, after texting to see if Shoko would let you come over to wash some clothes. 

“Honeyyyy I’m homeeeee.” Satoru sings, keys jingling as he comes through the door of the humble abode. He scrunches his nose, smelling the metallic tinge to the air, so he goes to check out the laundry room. It’s a mess of towels attempting to soak up the flood of water, every piece of fabric in the vicinity was soaked. He clicks his tongue. Luckily the water had been turned off, but Gojo wondered to himself if a maintenance man came in to rescue you, knowing you can hardly turn on the gas stove yourself. He can’t help but be a little jealous, no—overprotective. You were such a delicious little thing, and he can’t stand to see you get ogled by men less than deserving. You won’t give him the time of day, though he’s most certainly the only man deserving of ogling you. He hums at the scene, deciding he should go and ask what happened, that way he could figure out if that pervy handyman needed his eyes gouged out. 

He marches to your room and pushes the door open. “So–the pipe on the wa—” 

He froze. He’s greeted with the sight of you stretched out on top of your comforter, one long leg folded delicately over the other, until his t-shirt covered the rest of you from the knee up. It dwarfed you, made him painfully aware how much smaller you were. So tiny compared to someone so tall and strong as him. Yet you swear he’s the tease. He bites his lip, shamelessly pulling his dark lenses down his nose, crystal clear eyes peeking over the frames to memorize everything about you. You sat with your back straight against the headboard, small hands clutching a thick book.

 “Am I dreaming, or are you laying there in my shirt and nothing else?” He grinned, propping an arm up on the doorway. He doesn’t miss the way you squirm under his lazer focus. 

You feel your body heat up. You even had prep time, yet you still didn’t know exactly what to say. You swallow thickly. “I have panties on. I had nothing to put on! The pipe burst on the washer and soaked me–”

“Oh I’ll get you soaked babe–”

“Satoru!” You yelp, slamming your book closed with a loud clap. He just snorts at your embarrassment, half-lidded eyes still scanning over you to make his desire known. You can’t count the amount of times that your roomie has openly flirted with you, but it shocked you each time. 

“Y/N!” He mocked, rolling his eyes. He pushes himself off the frame and gets to the edge of your bed within a few strides. He plops down uninvited, staring at you almost as if he’s challenging you. He rests his hand on your calf, and you just stare at the point of contact with a raised brow. The man is awfully comfortable putting his hands on you, though that’s because you’ve been his since the day you moved in, in his mind. All this banter is just him being sweet and romantic. He sighs. “Let’s get real, hm? You look irresistible in my clothes, my mouth is watering over here, princess. I want ya. So stop acting like you don’t want me.” 

You watch as his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip, his foot anxiously tapping on the ground. He’s holding back demons here, and he doesn't know how much longer he can keep himself together. It felt like the room got twenty degrees warmer, electricity brewing like you were sitting in the center of a thunderstorm. You suck in a breath of surprise, the angel and devil on your shoulder going back and forth. He was impossibly annoying, clingy and obsessive. He was like a guard dog, but if it was a guard giraffe instead with his lanky limbs and otherwise goofy nature. On the other hand, he was impossibly sexy, and you would be a dirty liar if you continued to pretend you didn’t want him to rearrange your guts in his t-shirt. 

But what’s the harm in being a tease?

“What if I don’t?” You smirk, to which he mirrors your expression. If you want to play, he can do that too. He’ll make you regret it though. That flash of adoration in your eyes told him everything he needed to know. 

“Give me a chance anyway. You’ll never fuck anyone else after this, I promise.” He says, not waiting for another catty reply from your pouty lips. He’s lunging forward, large hands grabbing your face to keep you from escaping him. Another second passes and his lips smash on yours. He’s needy, messy, and not holding himself back in this clash of teeth and lips and tongue. You were shocked by his passion, not realizing just how serious Satoru was in his pursuit of you. He kisses you like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted, swallowing up any chance you have at getting oxygen with his saliva coated lips. You fist the cover beneath you, clutching the cotton for dear life. 

He’s consuming your senses and you wouldn’t have it any other way; you feel stupid for denying yourself of this for nearly two years now. His touch is fiery, you can feel his fingerprints burn into your skin and the only cure is more of those large palms gliding over your shoulders and chest. You relax into him, moving your mouth fluidly against his smiling one; his taste is of some sort of candy..starbursts maybe, but just the pink ones. His tongue gives you that flavor as it melds with yours, dominating it easily. He’s breathing heavy and grunting, the sound almost sweeter than the candy on his breath. They’re high pitched and whiny, he’s been picturing this scenario for a while now. You find yourself laying back, tugging him by the shirt to hover over you. The fabric wafted his vanilla sandalwood fragrance, of course he would smell and taste so delicious. It’s so befitting of such a deviantly perfect man. He doesn't hesitate to cover your frame with his, boxing your hips in under his as he straddles them. He breaks the make-out session to sit back on his knees to peel off his shirt–a white one not unlike the black one you stole. He throws it over his shoulder and you both hear it faintly fall in the distance. Then you both sigh, you squirm beneath him, hips shamelessly rolling into his semi. The corners of his lips curled into a smile. 

You looked truly angelic, as always. Your lips were plump and swollen from the way he smothered them, your tits perked up and nipples poking through the fabric of his tee. Your hair was just starting to get messy, and he had half a mind to fuck that bratty mouth of yours, holding out on him this long just to look up at him with those needy doe eyes. Now he’s really smirking, and it goes from an idea, to something he just has to see. He gets off of you, sliding out of his shoes, peeling off those annoying socks and his tight black jeans. He hisses when his throbbing erection isn’t so choked back, palming himself over his underwear. He goes to slide those off too when he catches you sitting up to remove his shirt. 

“No. Leave that on.” He growled, yanking his underwear off and throwing it with the rest of the discarded clothes. You hummed in response, the husk of his voice sending a jolt to your pussy. You knew you were growing damp, and the tiny lace wouldn’t do much to stop that from being painfully obvious. You sigh softly at the sight of him, though it almost pisses you off. Yes, of course, even his cock is utterly perfect. Somewhere in the eight inches ballpark, purple veins along his curved shaft led to a pretty pink tip glossy with his arousal. He thumbs the slit and spreads it further, beautiful blue eyes fluttering shut to enjoy the brief strokes. You whine, not sure what he wants you to do. 

Satoru has planned this day for so long, he’ll make sure you comply with his every request to fulfill this fantasy. He stands at the foot of your bed, huge hands wrapping around your ankles so he can drag you to lay completely flat on the mattress. There’s that devious smirk you know, your eyes widen slightly in wonder. He was planning something. 

“I can use that loud ass mouth, right?” He hums, getting back to his knees on the bed. But this time, instead of straddling your hips, he positions his knees on either side of your shoulders. You gulp, his full length looming large over your face. You look past his dick to his oceanic stare. 

“Yeah, yeah. Do your worst.” You manage to squeak, trying to reserve some of your pride. His eyes burn with amusement. He reaches his hand forward, putting a thumb on your chin to tilt your mouth downwards. He grins, angling your throat. 

“You shouldn’t have said that.” He clicked his tongue, swiping at your bottom lip. “Goddamn, I’m gonna ruin you.” He says, affectionately smoothing down your hair while tapping your mouth with his tip. “Open up.”

You part your lips wider, relaxing your jaw; you even stick your tongue out to provide him the perfect mental image to remember. He slides his cock into your silky throat, hot mouth swallowing him all up so good he’s fighting that ball of tension in his stomach just from the sight. He knows he’ll last, even if cums down your throat he’ll make sure he pumps you full of another round. You clearly needed to know who you belonged to. He leans his weight forward, his tip colliding with your gag reflex. You choke around him, but he doesn’t let up. His hand catches him on the headboard, and now he has the perfect angle to hammer into your wet mouth without mercy. He keeps his icy gaze angled down, he can’t miss a second of your tears pooling and sliding down your reddened cheeks. You’re so beautiful, he can’t believe you made him wait two years to claim you like this. That’s fine, he understands that his powerful presence can be a bit much. He is the Honored One after all. He was content to wait for you until you could honor him. 

He’s huge in your throat. You can feel your walls spasm around his cock, gagging and sputtering on him as he relentlessly slams into you. Your nose collides with his snowy pubes every time, saliva slicking down everything. Your cunt burns for attention, he’s driving you crazy with the way he’s looking at you, long white lashes framing the darkest lust-fueled stare you’ve ever seen. He’s using you so perfectly, you don’t mind being sore and unable to speak if it means you get to drink his load. Your hand sneaks over your thighs, sliding your thong over. You’re so drenched that the cold air makes you whimper around his gag, but you let your longest digit glide to your soaking hole. Gathering some of your slick, you slide back up to your aching bundle of nerves, easing circles over yourself. You sigh with relief, and Satoru turns to see why, grunting with dissatisfaction. His hips still, and he reaches to slap your hand away and give a punishing slap to your cunt. You jerk up in surprise, though the pressure was sickeningly sweet. 

“None of that shit. You oughta wait longer, made me wait two whole years to make you mine.” He growls, bringing his hands back to hold your face. He rocks his hips into your face again, moaning softly at how well you’ve acclimated to his rod. Your gags are so erotic, giving you and him both goosebumps. He chuckles, feeling his stomach and cock twitch. 

“Swallow it all or I’m not touching you.” He warns, spurting his seed down your throat. It’s a heavy load, spilling into your cheeks as he drags his cock out. You cover your mouth to keep any of his cum from leaking out, swallowing the hot liquid instantly. His hold on your cheeks makes it easy for him to push your mouth open, making sure you swallow every bit. He taps his tip against your lips in satisfaction, sliding back down your body to straddle your thighs this time. “That’s a good fuckin’ girl. You want me to eat your pussy?” He asks, sharp white teeth nipping at the delicate skin of your neck. 

You nod, still gasping for breath. Your blood was thumping in your ears as well as your pussy, and all you could think about was his strong tongue against yours earlier. 

“Beg me for it.” He smiles, breaking some skin below your collarbone and lapping his tongue over it. “Kept me waitin’ angelface. I think it’s the least you can do for me.” He coos, pushing his tee up all the way up your perfect thighs and over your tits. He nibbles his lower lip at the sight of your exposed body, not that it was the first time he’s seen you. Fresh out of the shower, scouring for clothes with no idea he’s watching or when your pajamas are so skanky you might as well wear nothing at all. This was special though, this was you wanting him, this was you begging for him to make you cum. 

You whine, squirming under him. He eyes the slutty panties, shaking his head. “And I thought I hid all of these…” He sighs, working the drenched fabric off. He sniffs them and whimpers, they smell just as heavenly as all the others. Your pussy glistens with your floods of slick, he can’t help but lick his lips, palming his semi into a full erection again. You hardly thought he was serious with all of his flirts. He definitely seemed like the type to just enjoy flustering someone. Plus, you didn’t quite understand what he saw in you–surely he could be with super models. But he made you cancel any date you had for the past two years and actively barked at anyone who looked at you twice, and now stealing your panties for his use… surely that was a lot of commitment if he was just teasing you right? Fucking your mouth like it was his god given right, wanting you to beg for him, he really did want you carnally. 

“Satoru,” You sigh out breathlessly, the man just out of arm’s reach. You bat your lashes and stare up at him. “Oh god, I’m sorry! I didn’t know you really wan’ed me! I didn’t mean to make you wait, baby, please–just please make me yours. I can’t take it ‘nymore, Sato..” You pant. He swears he’s vibrating, the pout in your voice just too much to handle. He needs you just as bad, but he has to make you cum for him before he ruins your cunt. He bites your thigh, determined to leave a bruise there, too. He’ll mark you up now that you’re his, no one could ever doubt or deny who you belong to. He only knows passion and all or nothing, his love is smothering and obsessive, and you’ll know everything about that. He groans, smelling your dripping juices was the final straw. His lips latch onto your painful need and you gasp out at the feeling. Your thigh burned where he had indented his teeth into it, but the pain only served to fog your brain up and soak your cunt just that much more

“Shoulda known I was serious.” He complains in between languid laps to your middle, drinking up the nectar. “I forgive you. ‘S gonna be okay now, I got us now.” He sighs dreamily, beginning a feisty assault on your core. He nibbles at your clit, sucking on it harshly and then following it with sweet and soothing licks. He can’t help but dip his svelte fingers in your tight hole, growling as you clamp around him. He knows you’re gonna be so fucking tight, and now he’s rutting his hips into your bed to stave off his desire until he pleases you to his liking. He coos as your arousal coats his plump pink lips, shaking his head as he devours you. His fingers pump and curl in all the right places. You’re sputtering and gasping, eyes clenched shut so hard colored orbs prick at your vision. You’re about to explode, every orgasm you’ve ever brought yourself or experienced before paling in comparison to the one you’re about to succumb to now. 

Your legs shake, clenching around his head. His strong hands force your legs back down, squeezing gently on your thighs. He kneads the flesh, admiring how easily you surrendered to him. “You bout to cum, sweet girl?” He teases, working into your spongy spot with his lengthy fingers. 

You nod, worried that he’d make you beg for that too.You decided to get ahead of the curve, babbling immediately. “Yes, please Satoru! Wan’ cum for you s’bad–please!” 

He chuckles, “Of course darling. Cum for me, Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel this good.” He demands, watching your nose scrunch up and your body jerk involuntarily. He can feel the flood of your release against his fingers, and he grins. He can’t hold it back anymore, he has to have you right now. He doesn’t let you recover, folding your legs into a mating press to start, sliding his aching length through your slippery hole and into those choking walls. He groans, letting his head fall back. You were just as tight as he imagined–no, tighter! This was all for him, no one but him would ever touch you again. The way you grip him sends chills down his spine, and his obsessive craving for you turns into an insatiable need. You watch his adam's apple bob in his throat, eyeing the rest of his bare chest and abs that had their own abs. He growls, his hold on the underside animalist. “Oh my god, doll..” He groans, breathing through his nose in an effort to calm himself.

 “I’m gonna give it you so fucking good, little one. Gonna claim you in every way, give you my kids, don’t’cha want that?” He coos, hips snapping into your ass rapidly. He’s abusing your spot instantly, and he knows it. It’s partially because he knows he can’t last too long in this glorious cunt when he’s this worked up and partially because he wants to see you come undone before him, begging for him to fill you to the brim. He did say he’d claim you in every way, what could be more of his mark? His teeth prints bruising your sweet skin, or his child growing in your womb? He shivers at the idea. He never thought this way about people before you. Something about your perfect hair and your sweet smile made him horny in ways he never knew. He craves seeing you full of his cum, making you hold it and not letting you get any medicine to keep you from conceiving. If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be, right? 

His cock fills you so right that you know you’d agree to anything right now. Your feet shake by your ears, you can’t take his repeated and unforgiving slams. You nod dumbly, craving his hot load in your pussy and more of his dirty fantasies. “Mhm, wan’ give you pretty babies, ‘Toru, jus’ give it all to me.” You plead, tits bouncing with his brutal fucks. 

His mouth drops open. “Agh, oh fuck..you really want me to knock you up baby? Lock me in as your baby daddy?” He questions breathily, dick jumping as you clench down. You really did like the idea it seems, as your wanton moans and soaking wave of cum clue him in to some fantasies of your own. 

You nod vigorously again. “Yes! Oh my god, yes, please, Daddy…I’ll make you one I swear!” His whines are so rewarding. The pleasure you send coursing through him causes his brows to furrow.

“You fucking got it angel. Make me a baby.” He nods, determined to follow through on your wish. His cheeks flush, his cum shooting all over your walls. It was hot and gushing, your hole clenches in an effort to hold onto it.  He’s wanted you all this time, there was no way you would escape him now. Now, you were all for him forever, and he hoped his seed took hold and grew within you. Couldn’t be so bratty if you were glowing with a child, his child. He had more than enough money, in his mind it's completely rational. He just wanted you to be reminded who you are now, who you belong to. The world needs to know it too, and he doesn’t mind to keep trying until it works. “Gonna look so pretty when you swell up for me.” He giggles, lazily blinking at you. He pushes your beautiful hair out of your face, gently holding your cheek. 

“I love you. That’s why I act this way. You’re all mine now, for good. I'll always take good care of you, my pretty mama.” He coos, his voice sweet as he leans up to kiss your parted lips, your body still coping with the waves of pleasure. Sure, all the dinners you’ve made for him and all the times you’ve folded his laundry was just you being nice, but you knew why you cared so much for your annoyingly handsome roommate. 

“I love you too. Here I was thinking this was the unluckiest day of my life.” You snort, running your hands through his white locks as he remains content to lay on top of you. He chuckles in return, but his mind is busy. He’s thinking about what theme for the nursery, names for your son or daughter, and how good you’d look needing him for everything for the next nine months. 

[thegnomelord]

Prompt #2 with Dominant bottom trans Price? And sub top cis male reader? Maybe monster au and mage reader if you want.

Power bottom Price YES! You get me mate, you get it, @rodolfoparras please second me here on the power bottom Price supremacy. Play the game HERE

Prompt: “That’s enough. Take a cold shower and when you’re done come back to me.  Don’t dress yourself.  No drying off."

CW: NSFW, dom bottom Trans Price, Sub top Reader, dom/sub, edging and denial, cumming without permision, oral, temp play kinda?

In an attempt to teach you some god damn patience, Price gave you a simple order — don't cum. For a month. This challenge would have gone smoother had he not teased you every waking moment; from fondling your thigh under the table during meetings to whispering in your ear all the filthy things he was going to do to you, hell, you couldn't even cross paths in the hallway without feeling his hands grope your ass.

So it's no wonder you didn't last a week.

When you were sure he was going to be busy you snuck back to your room, not even bothering with disrobing and just unbuttoning your jeans to let your aching erection free. You spat into your palm and immediately went to town, using every precious second you had to stroke yourself and find a release to that blasted heat in your belly.

You came into your fist in record timing like a teenager, your mind so clouded with post-orgasmic bliss you didn't hear the door open. The clear sound of Price clearing his throat strikes fear into your heart like nothing else before.

You slowly turn, cock still in your hand, to find him standing behind you, face stern like you'd just fucked up a mission. "Have fun there?" He asks, voice gruff but a smug look in his eyes — he fucking knew this would happen.

"Price, listen I-"

"Did I give you permission to talk?" His sharp words make you shut your mouth so fast your teeth 'click'. "Thought not." He hums and takes large strides towards you, pushing you against the wall. "Look at'you, remembering your manners when you cock up." He teases and his hand knocks away yours before he takes a firm grip of your soft cock.

He strokes you rough and quick, making your head loll back and hit the wall as the pressure and feel of his calloused hand makes pleasure push through the fog of overstimulation until your cock's hard and leaking all over again.

"Does that feel good sweetheart?" He asks, nibbling on your neck. You nod your head frantically, panting in tandem with every stroke of his hand, your balls churning as he corrals you closer and closer towards a second orgasm-

His hand stops.

You think your heart does too.

"What? Did you think ah was going to reward you for misbehaving, silly boy?" He asks with a smug smirk and flicks the head of your cock, smirking when you yelp and watching your cock bob. "That's enough." He lets go of your cock. "Take a cold shower and when you’re done come back to me. Don’t dress yourself. No drying off."

"You can't be serious." You try to argue but the look he gives you—the same one he gives to dumb recruits who try to challenge him—has you shuffling into the bathroom without further complaint.

You have no idea how many swears you yell out while pelted with droplets of ice cold water, borderline pain shooting up your spine as your cock softens from the assault. You shut off the water quickly, shaking yourself off like a dog despite his instructions before going back to him.

You nearly trip on your feet when you find him naked and sprawled out on your bed, positioned in such a way that your eyes naturally fall to his cunt. Your mouth grows dry as you watch him lazily play with himself, thumb and forefinger slowly rubbing his clit before sliding down to spread his folds so you have a clear view of his pulsing hole. The breathless moan he gives as he pushes two fingers into himself has your pulse roaring in your ears, the wet 'squelch' of slick as his fingers spread his hungry cunt open making your ears burn.

"Insatiable muppet." He growls, drawing attention to the boner you're now sporting. "Go back in." He orders, motioning to the bathroom, "You're doing this until you learn."

You do as you're told, staying a little longer under the freezing stream and conjuring images of old grannies eating lunch in the nursery home to make sure you stay soft when you come out the second time. Your cock gives a half-hearted throb as you watch Price finger himself, but you manage to escape a third cold shower.

"Good lad." You have to pinch yourself to not react to his praise, but the pleased look in his eyes makes up for that. He spreads his legs more, pulling his fingers out of his cunt to pat his hairy thigh, "C'mere then."

Knowing what's expected of you, you drop to your knees and crawl to him, settling between his thighs so you're eye level with his slick folds. You have half a mind to just dive right in, but the residual freezing droplets on your skin remind you to look up at him and beg for permission with your eyes.

A slow breath escapes you when he puts a clean hand on your head, ruffling your hair as a reward. "Good, you're finally learning." He tugs on your hair, "Go on then, don't just stare at it."

Permission granted you shove your face straight into his cunt, nose burrowing into his pubic hair to breathe in his musky scent and lolling your tongue out. You start with slow and wide swipes of your tongue at the bottom of his cunt lips, easing him into pleasure by seeking out all the pleasant spots along his inner lips. When his slick starts mixing with the drool rolling down your chin you go up to caress his clit with the flat of your tongue.

Your slow and methodical ministrations make him moan so sweetly you forget everything but his cunt, lavishing it with precise attention until his thighs shake as they wrap around your head. He tugs on your hair to move your tongue where he wants it, making you slowly suffocate in his slick heat but you couldn't care less when he continues to moan like that; rough and deep and blissed out.

Then you shift to ease the ache of your knees and your cock head brushes against the sheets, bringing your attention to the hard cock between your legs. Immediately you grip his thighs and redouble your efforts in an attempt to keep him from noticing, tongue delving into his pulsing tunnel to tonguefuck him for a few moments then swiping up to suckle on his clit, lips sealing around the nub and sucking until his thighs shake.

Even slowly suffocating you know when he's getting close by the way his moans get deeper, his breathing becoming stuttered and a continues stream of 'good boy' 'there, do that', 'don't stop' falling from his lips. He grinds roughly against his face and it only takes a few more hard licks against his clit to make him cum.

His thighs nearly crack your skull as he convulses, grinding his spasming cunt into your face and you do your best to swallow down all of his slick, continuing to lick him through it until his hold eases.

You gasp for breath when he lets you go, chin and throat stained with his juices. He looks at you with hooded content eyes and as he shifts his leg to press his shin against your leaking erection you think you're in the clear.

"Hard again?" The duality of his sweet tone and the mean look in his eyes hits you like a train. "Did you think that would be enough?" He asks sweetly, rubbing your aching length until you're throbbing with the need to cum before pulling away at the last second.

Boneless as he is he still tugs on your hair to keep your attention on him, "Oh no, baby boy, you're far from forgiven." He smirks and motions to the portal to Hell that is your bathroom. "Get to it, you know the drill by now."

[jackiepackiee]

𝒞𝒽𝓊𝓊𝓎𝒶 𝓍 𝐹𝑒𝓂! 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝒩𝒮𝐹𝒲

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 - 𝒪𝒻𝒻𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝓈𝑒𝓍

𝒯𝓎𝓅𝑒 - 𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎

Chuuya Nakahara. Gravity manipulator, port mafia executive, skilled martial artist. Your boyfriend… no, your man.

Stalking into his office, you offered a polite knock before entering. Knowing he didn’t mind your unexpected appearances on and off hours.

“Yes?”

His brown and blue eyes stayed focused on the paperwork in front of him. Fountain pen clutched lazily in his hand, carful to not drip ink.

“It’s me.”

“I know…”

Looking up at you, his chair shifted with his body weight as he moved himself from his slump over his desk to sit straight.

“Close the door.”

Obeying the order, you did. And the heavy mahogany clicked into his frame.

Long fingers motioned you over past his desk and into his lap.

“Fine, I’m coming I’m coming.”

He grabbed at your waist, and shifted you in his lap so you were both comfortable. Needy hands reaching to the plush of your thighs.

Without further warning, slightly chapped lips graced your neck. Gloved hands shifting your black button down to create an open patch of skin.

“Mmm.”

Every little groan was involuntary, but greeted without hesitation. More natural than breathing.

You shifted in his lap, the muscle of his thighs making a nice seat.

“You’re mine.”

He demanded, licking the soft skin on your neck. Speaking as if he was declaring something you both did not know. His girl.

“I know.”

Biting your lip was the only way to suppress the noises.

“I’d kill anyone who would try and change that.”

Hesitantly, you pull away. Carding your fingers through his hair. Taking out its band and swirling a lock. Eyes training on his, and his expression.

One of frustration, greed, and impatience.

“Did something happen?”

He seized your hand, and kissed the knuckles. Appreciating the lack of scars and bruises on your skin.

“Damn subordinates were eyeing you today. Pissed me off.”

His gripped tightened slightly, and his free hand traveled to secure your waist.

“Gentle now.”

“Sorry…”

Seconds later his lips were on yours. Softer, more care and consideration than desperation.

Until he moved to your neck again, and his teeth drove into your plush neck. Pulling a whimper you didn’t know you could make.

“You’re mine.”

Strong hands motioned your body to straddle his legs, which gave him a perfect view.

His lips moved back to yours, and his neck pushed forward to gain more contact.

“You’re such a good girl.”

Little whispers left his mouth between kisses.

“No one can touch you, or see this side of you. So fucking pretty.”

His hands roamed your body slowly and calculated. Making you shiver. Not a single thing would make him let go of you. Not now.

“I can feel you under me.”

You spoke as he moved his attentions back to your neck.

His hands landed on your hips, and started to move you again. Back, and forth. Grinding you onto him.

Every inch of himself was against you, and it pushed perfectly against. Sending a course of shocked through you, and forming a knot in your stomach.

Everything was warm.

“Mmm!”

You jumped a bit when he pushed you down onto him. His body felt perfect even with clothes on.

He smirked at your state, and let one of his thumbs wander up and down your waist.

“Having fun?”

“Mhm.”

You managed out, steadying yourself using his shoulders.

“Use your words, love.”

Fuck, he was so convincing.

“Yes.”

He kissed you gently. Tongue tracing your bottom lip.

“Good girl.”

Before reverting to a more teasing way that suited him.

He slammed you down, while be it very safety, onto him in a grinding motion. A groan left his lips, but he was far too focused on you.

Brown and blue eyes staring at you. Your face struggling to handle the pleasure, nails scratching his shoulders, mouth open from whimpering. And god, the sounds you made almost made him cum on the spot.

All you could do was close your eyes and enjoy the ride.

“Such a pretty sound baby.”

He praised, before halting your motion completely.

“What’s my name?”

Gloved fingers traced your jawline, and questioned you.

“Chuuya.”

A smirk adorned his face, and lust filled eyes looked at you with adoration.

“Atta girl.”

He allowed you to continue grinding, moving your hips against his. Forcing friction with his strong arms to make sure the pace stayed fast enough. Knowing your stamina was nothing compared to his.

“Say it again.”

“Chuuya.”

His grip grew tighter, and you moved impossibly faster against him. His pleasure providing the perfect hard spot to generate friction.

“Again.”

You choked out. The sound getting stuck in the mush of pleasure in your head. And his name couldn’t be said.

“Chuu.”

“One last time, my love.”

This was it, and he knew that. You, well you couldn’t really rationalize much.

“C…Chuu.”

Your thighs clamped around his hips, and started to shake and buck against him. He didn’t attempt to spot you, and allowed your movements to carry on.

“Good girl, good girl.”

Needy hands traveled to your chest, and played with the sensitive yet clothed mass.

“Gonna…”

He shushed you, and kissed your neck.

“It’s okay. It’s all okay love.”

Your nails dug into his white button up on his shoulders. Allowing yourself to not fall off of him.

You cried out a moan, mouth wide open and chest moving with breath. He watched in amazement.

"Good girl.."

He whispered again, holding you tightly against him. Chuuya was proud of himself for making you cry out like that, watching as you came down from your high.

"You're so good to me.."

Patting your head, he let you cuddle yourself against his body.

“Do you want me to do-”

He quickly shut down your offered of returned pleasure.

"No, darling.. No need."

Chuuya shook his head, he didn't want to push you too far. The man felt guilty even thinking about touching you when you were like this, exhausted.

"Let's just.. cuddle.. okay?"

He gave you a reassuring kiss and held you, nuzzling you against his body.

“Okay~”

You replied, body relieved at the peace.

“Was I too loud?”

"Just a bit.. you'll have to bite that lip of yours.."

He smirked, pulling your bottom lip down by your teeth, his thumb brushing over your lower lip.

"But I liked every moment of it~"

[writingoddess1125]

Steady Hand

Cute Buggy Idea I had in my head. ONESHOT

Buggy x GNReader

Mainly Fluff with some Spicy Ideas

You sat infront of the mirror grumbling as you tried once again to keep a steady hand and apply the eyeliner- One wing.. annddd its a little too thick. No matter No matter- just even out the other side. Annd now it's way to big and smudged- Great.

"God Fucking Damn-it!" You hiss as you toss down the brush and groan. You had a show in less then an hour and couldn't even do the most basic of things like put on your makeup!

You start to remove it and hear a tapping on the dressing room door before it creaked open. You didn't even have to look back to know who it was, the smell of Candy Apples and grease paint hitting your senses.

"Well look at that, a racoon in my show-" You heard Captian Buggy's teasing voice start behind you. Not even bothering to look back as you tried to wipe off the thick liner.

"What are you trying to do?" He questioned amused by the black staining your eyes you half ass glare at him through the mirror as he leans against the wall.

"My eyeliner- But i cant make them even or not look like shit!" You said frustrated. Buggy standing up from the wall and walking over to you, his face losing its sarcastic smile and instead sporting a gentler and kinder look.

"What kind of eyeliner? Basic, Cat eye, Bat wing? uh Double?" He asked calmly, picking up the pallet from your hands and looking it over. Feeling genuinely surprised by his knowledge in this category. Blinking up at him in surprise as he waited for your response.

"Um the batwing-" You mutter as

"Don't worry it gives me a hard time too. Black right?" Buggy muttered as he set the makeup pallet on the desk you nodding in wanting it in black, taking the brush he applied a healthy amount of product and leaned down. Gently cupping your face and leaning in close. You felt your heart skip in your chest at this- Your cheeks warming as you felt Buggy gently take the brush and with a steady hand start to do your eyeliner.

His face was inches from you as he was careful in applying the makeup, how the brush tickled your face and his gloved hands moving your head to how he wanted in order to complete the look. Your whole body seemed to reacting to his soft touch and how close he was.

The smell of strawberry sweets and mint on his breath mixed with his natural candy apple scent was almost suffocating in the best way. The way he seemed to almost hum in approval when he got the brush stroke just right, it was sending your body on fire.

He gently blew on the eyeliner to help it dry and pulled back slowly, his fingers temporarily pulling from you. Opening your eyes you see him smile at his work, Placing his gloved hands on your chin and turning your head side to side.

"Very pretty" He practically purred and you felt heat rush to your belly. Assuming he didn't notice he pulled his hand away.

"Alright shows in half an hour! See you on stage (Y/N)!" He said in his usual jovial way before leaving the room like nothing had happened- which it technically did, But leaving you a blushing mess in the chair reeling from whatever the hell just happened.

'What the Hell was That!?'

[soullessdianthus]

𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐲 | 𝐓𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞 𝟏𝟒𝟏 𝐱 𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Requested by anon:

A/N: I AM SO SORRY FOR SUCH DELAY, I kept postponing it and then I had other things on my head.

Summary: Task Force 141 is sent to gather intel from cartel's warehouse. However, their informations were flawed and they were cornered by hostiles. Soap got shot and it doesn't look good. What will they do in a stalemate as such?

Warnings:reader is eastern european coded (just briefly), some gruesome desc. of wounds, blood and fights, talk of killing people

Word count: 3.8k

GIF by oleworldblues

The flight wasn’t a steady one, turbulence occurring every minute on board. Although such voyages weren't anything new, those tremors were irritating to say the least. You managed to stay in the seat for the most part of it, cursing the pilot, Nikolai for such an unpleasant ride.

A flick of regret crossed your mind, scolding yourself for being so strict on him. But all the remorse passed, when another turbulence made you hit your head over the helo’s wall.

When you crossed through the storm cloud, the helicopter twitched so suddenly and you jumped in your seat. Afraid of falling off the bench, without much thinking you grabbed what was the nearest to search for support. And it was Soap’s thigh.

 ━ Jesus, since when th’ lass‘ so handsy? ━ Scott laughed it off as you straighten your back against the helo’s surface. 

━ Since Nikolai forgot how to navigate damn thing. 

━ Then ye hadn’t seen Ghost drivin’ a car. That was somethin’ to be terrified of. 

Soap chuckled while jokingly mocking the lieutenant sitting across them. As always the skull face remained solid, still and emotionless. You spent enough time in Task Force 141 to know that he had to be smirking under that thick layer of balaclava. Even if the big, grumpy guy denied it verbally. The spark in his eyes revealed all you had to know. Some people laugh with their eyes, you know?

━ I hope we won’t live that long to repeat the thing. ━ Gaz cut in, leaving the cockpit and entering space, where they were sitting. It meant they were close to landing. 

Thank God, because if the flight would continue like this, you would have bumped into all of them by the time of your arrival at the meeting point. 

The lights went off, when you got closer to the ground. A one, stronger jolt and the helo landed, dust floating in the air due to the propellers spinning around.

All of you gathered up near the exit, doing the last weapon and inventory check up. When everything was proper and intact, you were ready for the ramp to open.

━ Gonna wait for your signal on the radio ━ Nikolai said with a Russian accent, flicking some of the controls above his head. ━ Nadrat im zadnitsu [rus.: Kick their asses].

━ Sure will. ━ Gaz patted the pilot on his shoulder, before joining the rest of the team. The platform began lowering itself until it hit the ground beneath, hard.

You were supposed to meet up with Captain Price, leading a group of his own, just a few kliks from your landing location. Team’s sole purpose that night was to infiltrate the cartel’s hideout, north of Mexico's border. It wasn’t a fortress, but a well equipped warehouse at most. 

Well, at least that's what your superiors were suspecting.

They needed proof of the cartel's affiliation with powerful drug traders overseas and any other information you managed to find inside, while Price’s team created a diversion. You were a group of professionals, what could go wrong?

When all of you walked out the helo, you took a look around, eyes getting used to the darkness flooding the field around. The night has fallen as the sun disappeared over the horizon. 

You stuck closely to MacTavish as it was never smart to split up without strict order. Your main task as a medic was to keep an eye on them, patch them up if needed – overall, keep them alive.

There were no crickets to be heard, creatures hiding somewhere in the grass. But the gut feeling, or rather a natural intuition convinced you, something else was lurking in the plain field. When Nikolai started the engine again of the helo and flew off the ground, your eyes crossed with Ghost’s. 

It was too quiet.

He believed something was off too and the Englishman was much more experienced in a field than you. That could only mean trouble. 

You pinched your lips together into a fine line, involuntarily holding a breath in. Your muscles and joints were in a preparation mode. If the military had a medal for prophetic abilities, you would have a stack of them by now. 

Just as you started moving towards the old, abandoned truck in the middle of the grassy field, the first shots got fired. Your knees softened, when you sprinted towards the rusty vehicle to take a cover. 

You managed to take a quick look through the scope on your rifle, trying to asses – where were the fuckers coming from. But they hid in the bushes quite well. Those who were foolish enough to come closer to your group, quickly got eliminated.

Kyle was right by your side by the rusty car, shooting just above your head as you kneeled down. Suddenly an enemy troop jumped from his cover swinging a knife at your comrade. The steel shimmered in the moonlight.

It was a matter of seconds – despite the training sergeant had received, he couldn’t break the laws of time and space. You, on the other hand, were facing the threat directly. 

━ Gaz, down! ━ You yelled, before taking down the man, piercing his chest with few bullets. You held the rifle up and steady, meanwhile the attacker stumbled backwards and fell onto the coarse grass beneath. Lifeless. 

Kyle nodded in your direction, not exchanging a word of gratitude, but he didn’t have to. Besides, there was no time for courtesy. You were under fire. 

━ Piece ‘f cake, eh? Real nice fuckin’ cake, Lt. ━  Soap mocked Ghost earlier words, as his predictions regarding this mission didn’t include an ambush right off the bat. ━ What now?

━ Focus, MacTavish, we need to take a cover. There’s an ol’ farm, only a klik east-south ━ The lieutenant reloaded his own rifle with a firm tug on the empty magazine. As always, he kept a cold blood even when surprised by unpredictable ━  We’re headin’ there, is that clear? 

━ Aye. ━ Gaz approved and you silently nodded, feeling the raging pulse of your own heart in the neck artery. 

You noticed that his dark gaze got stuck on your face, that probably got a little too pale due to the adrenaline. You were still getting used to working in a field, you’ve never been cornered like this before. Verbatim. 

Every time after the mission, when you lay still in the barrack at night time, you wonder if Ghost felt like he was actually babysitting the whole Task Force. At least sometimes. Because it was usually you, Soap or Gaz who got into trouble.

Kyle and Johnny were around the same age, still fairly young to be in special forces, but you? You were even younger and less skilled, though you managed to catch up with different abilities than your male mates. 

And Lieutenant Riley? He was older than all of you, that’s for sure. You didn’t know how much exactly, but that’s what you managed to deduce since your joining the squad. 

So it wasn't an uncommon occurrence, where Ghost took the lead during a crisis and led you all to safety. He was more than sure all of you would manage on your own, if the circumstances were different. 

━ Y/C, with me ━ the lieutenant stated, getting ready for the next step. ━ Soap, Gaz, you go together. We’re movin’, now. 

Each soldier with a rifle held steadily in their hands, began to move swiftly through the darkness of the upcoming night. While Gaz and Soap took the right flank, you and Ghost took care of the left. The lieutenant kept in mind checking the back too. All you had to do was push forward.

It was a challenging task to keep up with their longer strides, but they were mindful of your struggles. You would never be left behind. One for one. 

The outline of the old barn appeared in the reach of your hand as you pointed the rifle’s barrel towards the two men coming from your left. You managed to take one down, by shooting through his knee, however you missed the other one.

You cursed in your native language, letting the frustration out. Within the span of a couple seconds you collected your breath and aimed once again. This time you shot him, right through his shoulder. They had bullet proof vests, therefore shooting at their chest made no sense at all. 

Shooting at the vest from up close – then, that’s a different story.

Muppets, as Captain Price called them, took down each one of the enemies without a slip up on their flank. 

You’ve never said it outloud to anyone, especially not any member of Task Force, but in a work field you looked up to…well, some of them. They executed their tasks immaculately. Whilst you still had some things to learn, they were usually understanding, willing to help out. Usually, not always. 

Sometimes, due to his harsh comments, you thought that Ghost expected you to be born with skills he achieved through the years in a service. Which, for obvious reasons, was not fair.

The way to the farm was a bumpy one, tall grass covering any holes in the ground, but you finally made it. Ghost and Gaz broke into the old stable and began checking out the insides. You were just behind them, when you heard Soap’s grunt through clenched teeth.

It could only mean one thing – Johnny got shot. You reached to touch his arm, maybe to pull him inside, but the Scottish sergeant did it anyway. With Kyle’s help you shut the heavy doors behind to give the team extra coverage. 

You finally took a deep breath. 

Ghost spoke through the radio, slowly walking up to the barn's other end. You deduced that he spoke with Price about the ambush, but your focus was on blood pouring out of the fresh wound.

You stepped closer and MacTavish leaned in, letting you take a look. And it didn’t look good. Soap inhaled the chilly air, a droplet of sweat rolling down his temple.

━ Shit. ━ You felt Ghost’s gaze upon your back, when you cursed with such passion. He was waiting on a report. ━ Bullet went through his arm. 

━ The cartel wasn’t wasting money on security, huh?  ━ Gaz mentioned, still quite not believing himself they encountered such skilled soldiers. Why weren’t they informed about that beforehand? They would take a bigger team.

━ But ━ you continued ━ because Soap is so bulky, the ammo didn’t scratch any important artery. 

━ I knew you’d appreciate my form, lass. 

━ Nevertheless, I insist on patching him up.

━ Insist? ━ The big Englishman repeated what he just heard, surely raising an eyebrow beneath mysterious balaclava. At least that's what you imagined him to do. When he looked at you, he saw your scowl. ━ Fuckin’ hell, fine. We need to stay ‘ere until Price comes with backup. 

Ghost’s voice sounded firm and emotionless as always. Maybe there was a hint of annoyance, but who wouldn’t be? The intel wasn’t good enough if the cartel's security managed to take you by surprise and outsmart the special forces. 

Kyle silently went outside to take a look around, patrol the surroundings when you took care of John’s nasty wound.

━ Hey, I’ll manage, no need to–

━ Don’t even start ━ you interrupted Scottish man, rummaging through the medic bag.  ━ You want them to follow us by the trickle of blood you left behind? Or do you want to faint due to blood loss?

━ Alright, alright, I get it, lass. Sweet Jesus. 

━ You’re like children. ━ The lieutenant pointed out at your foolish scuffle, checking each corner of the barn. 

━ Do you know children that carry M4s?━ An even more stupid joke escaped your mouth, before you giggled silently, opening the new package of gause. Even Johnny chuckled, when you began applying pressure on top of his wound. 

━ Keep your morals like this and we just might fulfill our task. 

Ghost definitely had the charisma of an exhausted father, but that was one of his characteristics that not many people were fond of. But you were. You liked his tacky humor, always a way to brighten the day.

━ One-four-one, do you copy? 

A sudden sound of the radio on your vest broke the silence. It was a voice belonging to Gaz, but usually his tone wasn’t so… nervous. Another bad omen. 

━ We need to get out of ‘ere! ━ Just as he finished the sentence, Kyle ran through the barn’s door, M4 rifle in his hand. ━ They’ve got their own reinforcement. 

━ How many? ━ You asked, finishing wrapping a tight bandage over Soap’s bicep. 

━ I saw four cars riding through that bush we came from. ━ Dark skinned soldier answered, glaring through his shoulder. You have to be very aware of your surroundings from now on.

━ Y/C, you feel like sniping? ━ The skull had spoken, the brown eyes looking at you. No, through you. ━ Can you cover us?

━ Yes, I’ll keep an eye from the attic. 

━ Good. 

━ What about Price? Where is he? ━ Soap asked, reloading his weapon. 

The Englishman pressed the button on his radio.

━ Bravo 0-6 this is Ghost, how long?

━ Hang on, four more kliks. Are you still in the barn? ━ Captain asked through the speaking channel only your team had access to.

━ Positive.

━ Good, stay there. Over and out. 

Price’s voice vanished as soon as he echoed through the old stable. Situation wasn’t looking good for your team, but what else could you do? If Gaz was right and the enemy managed to distribute groups of his soldiers around the farm, there was no way out. 

So you had to defend your position and wait. For what? At this point for a backup that miraculously appears from the skies.

You swiftly climbed onto the wooden ladder until you reached the upper floor of the old stable. There were bales of hay scattered around and few windows. One of the bigger ones was facing the courtyard between the buildings. When you were in a position, you took a look around the property. 

Ghost was already prepared on the right side of the building you were in and Gaz was on the other. Meanwhile Soap was slowly walking around the antique fountain in the middle of the courtyard. 

Everyone was ready and anticipating the enemy’s next move. 

━ Gaz, three coming from your left. ━ You warned him through the speaking channel, before pointing the rifle’s end to those mentioned soldiers. 

When the adrenaline bursts inside of your veins, time passes quite fast. Which was a dangerous thing, because if you lost track of it or a consciousness about your surroundings – you would be dead quickly.

You had to withhold your nerves and focus on one task at the time.

After a deep breath in, you slowly let it out. Looking through the rifle’s loupe, you began shooting at the group that just got out of the truck. A gunfire right beneath their feet, before they got perforated with your bullets. 

A bitter, metallic taste spreaded over your tongue. You swallowed some saliva, checking up if you had bit the inside of your cheek. It happened before, when you completely zoned out during a shooting. You were so fixated on the task, you clenched your jaw on the delicate tissue. 

But this time it was just remorse, building up each time you pulled the trigger. Of course, you knew not each inflicted harm caused inevitable death, some just made the enemy’s soldiers… indisposed. Nonetheless, it was a burden you had to carry on your shoulders.

When you cleared out the zone near the parked car, your sight moved to the Ghost outpost. He was stabbing the soldier's neck and shoulder with short and quick movements. In your assessment, he was doing fine.

Then when you wanted to check on Gaz and Soap, there was a thud over the wooden surface that got your attention. You snapped your head towards the sound and saw one soldier that managed to climb  here. 

━ I found the sniper. ━ The man said into his own radio, hooked over his tactical vest. 

He rushed towards you and you tried to point your rifle at him. The man was faster and he grabbed the weapon, stopping you from shooting at him. There was only a little window of time to decide what to do next. So you used all your body weight to tackle that soldier to the ground.

Your arms wrapped around his thighs and you pushed forwards, causing him to fall backwards. Meanwhile, still having an upper hand, you reached for a karambit that was stacked behind your belt. 

You managed to climb on top of him swiftly, because that was your advantage in a clash with big, muscular men. You raised your hand and before the blade reached his chest, the man grabbed your wrist in the air, blocking your further movements. 

For a short while you struggled against his grip, trying to push the knife into his ribcage with the mass of your upper body. However, the mercenary locked you with his leg and rolled over you, trapping you beneath him. 

You took a quick look around – both of you rolled over dangerously close to the edge of the attic. A sight of a few meters depth made you lightheaded. So you continued struggling, as the soldier held a firm grip over your wrist, cutting the blood flow. Even when your wrist went numb, you did not drop that karambit. 

It was your most valuable bargaining chip in this situation.

You huffed a couple of times, slightly changing the position under the man’s frame. But when he finally reached for his gun, you grabbed the short barrel and pointed it far from your head. 

Calculating the next step carefully, you decided to let him win over the knife in your hand. Because with the drop of it, he released your wrist. The man swung his whole shoulder to punch you in the face. 

For a short moment you saw spots in front of your eyes, when his clenched fist met your cheekbone. Ouch. 

And finally, when your arms began to give up, you focused your defense on your legs – they were stronger. You managed to tuck them beneath his pelvis and strengthen your legs, kicking him over your head. Only then, you released the barrel of the gun. 

The mercenary fell over the edge of the attic and onto the ground beneath. You heard the loud thud followed by a crack. He broke his neck.

You laid there for a while, collecting your breath as you just faced death. Quite a normal day in the life of a soldier. The shootouts from the outside began to fade and it got you worried. You had to check that out.

━ Steaming Jesus ━ a familiar voice, brought you back to your full strength. You got up on your knees and carefully looked through the hole in the floor. ━ Is that how you greet people?

The American was standing above the body you just threw from the upper floor. A puddle of blood staining the ground. 

━ Alex! ━ You expressed your enjoyment, seeing your college for the first time in a while. It meant he came with a backup. A miracle of tonight's ambush.  ━ You’re saving our asses. 

━ Come down now, the situation is under control. 

You ran to gather your weapon, before hooking it around your shoulder. You quickly climbed down the ladder and walked up to a man with bright eyes and trimmed mustache. 

━ Laswell send her regards. Price team wouldn’t make it on time ━ Alex Keller explained, putting one of his hands on your shoulder as the two of you slowly walked out of the barn to the courtyard. ━ A bloodbath, huh? Only the four of you?

Soap was sitting on the fountain’s edge, the material hugging his arm wasn’t soaked with blood. “Good” you thought. Some of Alex’s soldiers that were sent here by Kate Laswell walked around the farm to check every corner. 

━ We don’t like crowds. ━ Gaz reached his hand to greet their friend, who was in Urzikstan. At least, that's what they thought. Until now. 

━ Understandable, sergeant. ━ The ends of his mustache lifted up as he smiled. ━ We should wait here for Price and regroup. 

━ So we continue what we started? ━ Just before you asked, Soap and Ghost joined the conversation in the middle of the courtyard, the pathways laid out with stones.

━ We can’t retreat now, they would know we’re after ‘em. ━ The lieutenant explained, why the retreat was an idea not even being speculated here. The presumed cartel would move along with their belongings, the proof you needed to gather. 

So therefore withdrawal was off the table. 

━ We need to strike ‘ard, now. ━ Ghost continued his talk, when the soldiers began to talk between each other from the other side of the abandoned house. 

All of you turned around to see the upcoming Captain Price, pressing his rifle to his chest. 

━ Took ya long enough, Captain. ━ Gaz stated bluntly, few droplets of blood appearing on his forehead. 

━ Yeah, the intel was shit, we’re gonna take care of it later. Now, we have different targets. Gather up. Everyone in one piece? 

The man in his forties looked at each one of you – from head to toes. Obviously, his eyes were locked with the bandage over Soap’s arm, but MacTavish quickly assured him it was only a scratch on the surface. 

Which it wasn’t, yet he wasn’t bleeding, so for the sake of peace you nodded your head to assure Price.

━ Alright, the real fun can begin. We got ‘em outnumbered, this is going to be a quick and smooth operation. No slip ups from now on, understood?

The whole team agreed and began to mentally prepare for what was coming. Captain patted Gaz on his shoulder, before slowly walking away.

━ No more flying corpses? ━ Alex whispered, leaning towards you. It seemed that only the two of you heard the conversation. 

And maybe Ghost who was standing on the other side of Sergeant Keller, because he looked at you with amusement. 

━ We’ll see about that. Just try to get on my bad side, American boy. 

Price whistled in a high pitched tone, announcing that all of you should gather up. 

Once again you had that feeling in your guts, that it was going to be a long, exhausting night. And at the end of the day, your hand would be covered in blood, like a butcher (which you swore you wouldn’t be).

[wttcsms]

Megumi for knife to the throat but the blade can't seem to cut this weird sexual tension we've got going on

you're the only one that's holding me down, megumi fushiguro ;

pairing megumi fushiguro x f!reader word count 1.3k synopsis pressing a blade to your ex-fiance's throat, and other loving, tender moments content contains exes still in love, slight angst

Staring directly into someone’s face is such an intimate act. 

You don’t realize this fact until you’re straddling Megumi’s annoyingly slim waist, the glint of your blade against his throat causing the sunlight to beam right into your eye. 

Everyone claims that Megumi Fushiguro is the ultimate pretty boy. Mai claims that his bone structure is undefeated and that any sane girl would commit atrocious crimes against humanity to get lashes as nice as his natural ones. Momo says that she’s never seen a shade of blue eyes as pretty as Megumi’s (her only frame of reference, by the way, happen to be her own bug-eyes and Satoru Gojo’s, whose eyes are so freakishly, eerily icy blue that you’re thankful he wears the blindfold twenty-four/seven). Even Miwa, who is too busy trying to earn a living, can take the time to admit that Megumi Fushiguro is the exact type of person the ancient Greeks model gods after. 

You want to blame their admiration of Megumi on the fact that thanks to their attendance at the Kyoto school, interactions with cute boys were few and far between. Todo’s fine, if you’re into loudmouths who could also pose as the poster boy for steroids — or, even better, those clickbait ads on shady websites that tell you if you take this magical pill, in three days, you can be as shredded as him! Noritoshi is so stiff and aloof that no one can view him as hot. Mechamaru is a fucking robot. 

So, the bar for the Kyoto girls’ rating of attractiveness is damn near hell. You examine Megumi’s face and eagerly search for a flaw to hold against him. There’s a faint, barely noticeable scar above his lips. It blends into his skin seamlessly, and you think your eyes could be tricking you. However, you latch onto this scar. Megumi Fushiguro is not the perfect specimen, you think smugly. 

“Let me go,” he snaps. “If anyone’s acting under the effects of the curse, it’s you.”

“You’re not exactly in the position to be ordering me around,” you point out. You have one hand pressed against his chest to steady yourself, the other gripping the knife. 

“Clearly you still consider me a threat.” His eyes flicker downwards, even though he can’t possibly see his hands. They’re bound behind his back, his cursed energy sealed from the specialized handcuffs you managed to lock on him. The last thing you needed was for him to sic his wild animals on you. 

“Maybe I just like this position.” 

A momentary truce forms when you don’t tease him for his cheeks turning pink, and he pretends not to notice that when you realize your accidental underlying innuendo, your grip on the dagger loosens considerably. 

Megumi is fully aware that your bark and your bite are on the same level of batshit insane. He figures this is just how all women sorcerers have to be in order to survive this environment. If you say you’re going to slit his throat at the first sign of him being compromised by a curse, he can trust that you would keep your word. 

You didn’t threaten him, though. Instead, when the curse nearly got a good touch on him, you had screamed out his name. You let the curse get away in favor of tackling him to the ground, and the frenzied look on your face as you searched him for any sign of possession makes his insides twist and heat rise to his cheeks and paint the tips of his ears a flushed pink. 

For a second, it still felt like you cared about him. 

Then, you slapped those restrictive cuffs on him and got on top, as a means to restrain him. He had frozen up when he realized how close your bodies are, how he can feel the warmth from you traveling and enveloping his own body. 

This is bad, Megumi realizes. Not because the curse got to him — it didn’t. It’s bad that his heart still goes pitter-patter every time you’re near, and that he’s hyper aware of the way your body fits nicely and neatly against his own. He knows that it’s wrong to be feeling this way, to want to savor every last scrap of you that he can get. The jujutsu world is small. Nearly everyone knows about the broken engagement between you two. Having the both of you paired up for a mission, especially since your territories are so far from each other, is a sick and twisted joke. 

The curse thrives on couples, intertwining itself with its victim and twisting their host’s love into hatred. There’s been a recurring theme of lovers murdering their significant others. The more love in their heart, the stronger the curse’s manipulation. 

It just goes to show that too much love is a fucking burden, a curse in and of itself. You know that it is, because if it came down to it, if Megumi were truly compromised and wanted to kill you, you wouldn’t have it in you to kill him first. 

“I told you, I haven’t been hit by the curse.” 

“How can I know that this isn't just a trick? You’ve always been good at self-restraint and hiding yourself from me.” The comment is petty, all things considered. In the end, when Megumi asked you if breaking off the engagement was what you truly wanted, you remained expressionless and impassive. We can’t ever go back to the way things were. There’s no point in not breaking it off. 

He scoffs. “Don’t you think I’d kill myself the minute I felt something in me shift?”

You know Megumi. He doesn’t say things just to say them. He means it, every word, and you don’t know why, but it makes the part of you that longs for him — the part of you that is always in a constant state of wanting him, needing him — intensify. Multiply. Takes over your whole entire system until you are reduced to a being whose hunger can only be satiated by Megumi. 

“Idiot. You always go to the extremes.” You opt for saying this, instead of commenting on the fact that Megumi is very much implying that he would rather end his own life rather than take yours. 

“Do you really think I’d ever want to hurt you?” And suddenly, you realize that the two of you are no longer discussing the current matter at hand. Like with all things that involve the both of you, the root of the problem always leads back to your engagement. He was meant to be the one you married, and then he refused the Zenin name, refused most of the traditional jujutsu society, and when it came down to his freedom or you, he—

—gave you the option to choose. 

Him or comfort. Him or safety. Him or family. 

You didn’t realize it at the time, but all choices lead to him. He is the one you are most comfortable with, he is the one who would die to keep you safe, he is the one who you could see yourself creating a happy family with. As happy as a family can be in this fucked up society. 

He hurt you, but it was you who handed him the blade. You, who took his wrist and guided it straight to your heart. Just looking at him right now reopens that old wound. 

“The curse can only change you if there’s love to destroy.” You point out.

“I know.” He says. “Lucky that it didn’t get to me. It would have ended badly for the both of us.”

[pumpkinbxtch]

･⁠｡ﾟ “Lovelorn” .⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

— leo valdez x daughter of apollo!reader

Summary: You and Leo have been friends for a long time. You fight too hard to let him know what you feel and you receive help... divine

Warnings: swear words, mentions of minor burns (really minor)

A/N: English is not my first language, so sorry if it's bad.

Word Count: 2,094

°

The two of you were friends, so close, that you couldn't help but feel bad about yourself as you sighed as you watched him pass by.

«Just a few more days and we will be at camp», you found yourself counting the hours to always have him by your side. Damn, you were obsessed.

Gradually, you stopped making your pen write, and it was now making a constant noise against the library table, your eyes still following his figure along the shelves of books. Why he was it taking so long?

—You've already gone over that shelf five times.— You mumbled and temporarily stopped tapping with the pencil.

The brunette turned to you and smiled with a raised eyebrow. — Shall I distract you, señorita? — Your heart stopped, and you turned your gaze to the notes, trying to hide the red tint that spread across your face, meanwhile, your friend continued passing the shelves and sporadically glancing at you discreetly. He thought you had been acting very strange for a while now, and constantly wondered if it was because of something he had said or done. If so, Leo blamed his loose tongue and the natural insolence of his being, but he could swear by Styx lagoon that had not done something.

When he finally found what he wanted, he returned to the table with you, you, as expected, had almost finished your homework while he hadn't even started.

—Are you almost done, nerd?

You frowned.

— Nerd? Or are you an idiot?

Leo let out a laugh that if it weren't for the silence of the library you would never have had the pleasure of hearing. He settled down and began to write while carefully studying a mechanics book.

—Isn't your father the best mechanic in the universe?

A smile appeared on Leo's lips without looking away from the book and from the book to the notebook. He looked stupid good, his shoulders, his fingers running across the page and his curls falling down his face due to gravity. Blessed gravity.

— I would like him to teach me what I need to know instead of doing godly things and getting me involved in suicide missions, but I don't think that's going to happen, right?

You leaned back to lean your back on the old wooden chair, this allowed you to have a better view of Leo. However, as soon as you realized how stupid that reason was, you felt the heat on your cheeks making you regret it.

— I guess — You cleared your throat and rubbed your cheek hoping it wasn't apparent but the movement caught Leo's attention.

— You feel bad? — He said quickly.

You gasped and shook your head left and right, praying you didn't look as pathetic as you felt.

Leo left the pen next to his notebook. — Come — he said with his hand suspended in the air. You hesitated to lean towards him, you knew that would make it worse, however, like the desperate Leo he was, he didn't wait to rise slightly from his seat and reach out to you. Not even two seconds had passed when he had already gently placed the back of his hand on your cheek. You wanted to die or be swallowed by the earth, but not exactly in that order, or if the gods wanted, all at once. But, as usual, your wishes were not listened to or at least those were not heard.

When Leo's eyes met yours, you couldn't help but pull back, which gave Leo an ache in the chest.

— Everything is alright? — He said when he was finally sitting again, his expression went from calm to serious. Leo was always joking and teasing you, but yes, if he wanted to talk about something serious, he didn't waver in the attempt. You knew it well, and that made you press the edges of the table with enormous anxieties.

So easy that it would be to lie to him with a simple “yes” but your feelings twisted in your stomach and your heart felt a pain that danced between fear and desperation. You were so sick of feeling that fear and not telling him, but you were also terrified of what he would think. Would you be on the same page? Or was it just Leo's stupid attitude with everyone?

— Hey — Leo passed his hand in front of your eyes, bringing you back to earth, you looked at him, still speechless. — Are you ok? Shall we go to the infirmary, or can you handle it? — His index finger pointed to your golden necklace with a sun engraved on it, you immediately pressed it against you.

How did you go from being joking to being terrified of your emotions? You wished it were easy.

And then, your mouth opened without permission:

— No. I need you.

You two stood silent, even everyone in the library seemed to hold their breath.

Leo raised his eyebrow and leaned forward.

— Excuse me?

— Don't you notice, idiot?

For a moment, it was like hearing yourself in the third person, you couldn't believe those words were coming out of you. The fear seemed to vanish out of nowhere.

Your best friend looked down as he took the pen and tapped it on his notebook. — Notice what?— he muttered, looking back at you.

— That I like you.

Leo opened his eyes, and you felt your stomach twisting again, but definitely one less burden on your back. Now you were wondering, would it be very stupid of you to say it was a joke?

Yeah, he would forgive you.

You Laugh — N-no, I don't…

— And you to me.

Both fell silent and Leo snorted.

— Were you going to say it was a joke? — Leo frowned and squeezed the pen, the small device began to melt in his hand.

Seeing this, you muffled a scream and covered his hand without stopping to think twice. The fact was that you were no less sensitive to heat than the plastic pen, which caused a cry of pain to echo throughout the library, earning you several looks and scoldings.

You held your hand with your good one and hunched over in your pain, holding back any more sobs that might bother others. Leo quickly jumped out of his chair to walk past you and kneel, asking to see your hand. With your thoughts fuzzy, you shook your head repeatedly.

— Let me see

You denied.

— Give me your hand!

You denied again.

— Que la chingada, give me your hand!

— YOUNG PEOPLE, KEEP SILENCE — Miss, are you okay? — The librarian looked at your hand and put her hands on her chest, totally scandalized — What are you waiting for, sir? — The old woman pointed at Leo, causing him to fall onto the carpeted floor — Take your girlfriend to the infirmary immediately!

Leo looked at her dumbfounded, still on the floor.

The librarian looked quickly at you, still pressing your hand against your chest, she looked back at Leo and snorted exaggeratedly.

— NOW!— She shouted, breaking her own rules.

— Yes ma'am!

Leo stood up and analyzed you, still struggling with the pain.

— Al carajo, pues. — And he carried you.

It certainly would have been one of your fantasies, if it weren't for the fact that you felt like your hand was melting. Leo's arms carried you by the back of your thighs, while his right hand kept your head resting on his chest. When had he become so strong?

— I had some Ambrosia in my backpack — You whispered in Leo's ear, he stopped at the door of the infirmary, panting. He gave you a look of disbelief.

— And you tell me right now?

You raised your blistered hand, that broke Leo's heart.

—I'll let them take a look at you anyway. —And he entered, still with you in his arms.

To your surprise, the room was empty, but Leo decided that it would be best to wait.

After a few minutes, Leo scratched the back of his neck and gave you a nervous look from the doorway, waiting for someone to enter. Of course, you had completely forgotten.

You settled on the stretcher, making space for Leo, and patted the space with your good hand. He didn't argue and walked over to sit down, probably just as impatient with the situation that had caused your burns.

—Leo…

— It was a joke?

Both looked forward, contemplating a diagram of the human nervous system seemed more comforting than facing each other face to face.

You sighed and looked at your hand, red and blistered, it looked slightly better, it was your nature as a demigoddess after all, but it still hurt. The words stuck in your throat, but you fought it.

—Would it be bad if I told you I wasn't joking?

Leo turned to you with unfocused eyes, his fingers twitching around one another, probably missing not having gears and parts in his hands to calm his nerves.

— Are you serious? — Leo approached impulsively, making your heart skip a beat.

— Sorry, I didn't mean—

His hands cupped your cheek, and he pressed his lips to yours, then he turned away from him to look into your eyes with a smile. He kept his hand on your chin and caressed it gently, his fingers traveled to your forehead to brush away strands of hair, Leo looked at you tenderly and leaned down to kiss several places on your cheek.

—Is that a “I like you too?” — you asked between giggles while Leo continued attacking your face affectionately.

He pulled back and admired you.

— I told you, but I don't mind repeating it.— I, — he pointed to himself dramatically — am a sucker for you.—

You pouted and leaned towards him. — Aren't you always?

— Hey! — He laughed and poked your rib, causing you to join him.

Suddenly, the figure of a man appeared at the entrance to the nursery, both looked in his direction, and Leo stood up.

—Are you sure any of you feel bad? I notice they are in too good a mood.— Said the medical assistant with what seemed like a play on his words. You couldn't see his full face, as it was hidden behind a mask, but the golden curls looked familiar.

Leo cleared his throat. — I'll go get our things, let him check you out. I'll be back in a few minutes.— And he walked toward the doorway.

You nodded and watched the doctor approach with a tray full of instruments for healing. Strangely, just the one your injury required.

— Your hand — He said, the tone also became familiar to you. Curiosity hovered, and you tried to recognize him with the mask on, when the doctor realized he looked up and you were left speechless.

Those blue eyes.

— Father! — You screamed and he removed his mask.

— Trapped — He said sweetly, still paying attention to your hand.

The words didn't come, but the realization hit you like a bucket of cold water.

— You were — Apollo looked at his daughter with a bright smile. — I would never have said that in my life, you forced me!

The god rolled his chair back.

— No, darling. I just sent you a wave of self-confidence — Apollo took your hand in his and lightened up, making any discomfort and any apparent burn disappear.

Your eyes locked onto your father, and you stuttered, the god raising his shoulders.

— What? I made you waste less time with that son of Hephaestus, who is practically my brother, which makes Leo my nephew, but also my son-in-law.

— Dad! — Apollo smiled and winked at you.

—But we don't have DNA, so it doesn't matter.

— Dad!

— Oh, what? I just helped, you asked me to, so did I make my daughter happy or not?

You couldn't deny such a question.

— Good! Ready! I love you, bye

And he disappeared in a burst of light, leaving you with your mouth open.

You raised your fist in the air, and before you said anything, Leo appeared.

— All good?

He looked for the doctor and asked you silently. You sighed and turned to him.

— What happened with? —You gave him a kiss. Leo let go of his backpack and pulled you close to him.

When you broke away from his lips, you smiled at him and grabbed his backpack from the floor, offering your now healthy hand for Leo to take. That made him squint.

— Come on, we have to find something to burn as an offering. I'll tell you on the way.

— Yes my Lady

And you make your way to the main dining rooms.

----

N/A Bless the gods if you made it this far. Thanks, kisses. If you have any request, go to my profile.

[bravo4iscool]

Levi Baby🖤

The way I adore you for pairing Simon with a Chubby girl. I bring a thot to you if you're interested:

Bodyguard!Simon Ghost Riley x chubby f!reader

- He's newly retired , gets asked for a favor from Price for a friend's kid

- Said kid is a mid 20's thicc woman who is all business since she's a lawyer in Human Rights and involved with the UN.

- He thinks she's going to be a snob based off looks bc girl loves to dress and she does it well, she observes Simon as he is. Brooding, Haunted and Self Assureed with a drizzle of dark humor but loyal.

- They get off on the wrong foot [Simon was being an irrational ass forgetting his manners and respect], reader isn't scared of him and doesn't take lightly to being disrespect3d for no apparent reason.

- They're holed up living together under the radar since the thr3at to reader was pretty big seeing it was world leaders

- They're going to have to learn to live with each other, where Simon barks orders - reader is anamused and calmly condescends. He can't even get annoyed bc she's antisocial and a houseplant but he's trying

- doesn't help that he's so.so attracted to her.

*make this as suggestive as you want (give ghost heart attacks with her choice of home clothes please. We know he's touch straved, emotionally constipated and needed a therap session.

Make her stress him out by confronting all of that in her short fiery demon way please.

I hope your new year is sweet Love💋

oh lord. oH LORD. how can you write this and not think about me fainting😭 THIS IS- URGH- AMAZING AHHHQGACQGQVQZQZAVQ!!!!

i hope i can do this justice😭 normally i try to imitate simon’s accent but bro… i was just too tired to do it now, so i hope you can forgive me for that🥲

KEEP HITING ME WITH STUFF LIKE THIS OH MY GOD😩

not really happy but i tried my best :) also not proof-read!

(masterlist)

REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!

“There’s no but’s!” Simon argues while almost dragging you—his protégée—along the hallway inside the safe house. “You’re in danger and it’s my job to protect you!”

“I’ve been perfectly fine on my own before,” you argue, trying your best to wriggle away from his grip. You hated it when he manhandled like that.

He turns around, his eyes fiercely staring down at you and you feel like they’re piercing through your soul. “Have you ever had the Taliban threaten you, huh? Or fucking ISIS? I don’t think so; so stop whining and follow me!”

You want to argue with him, tell him he’s not allowed to talk to you that way but damn, you knew he was right. Ever since you started working for the UN you’ve been threatened—you were getting used to it—but only by small groups not someone like the Taliban.

“We’re gonna stay here until the threat is eliminated for not serious anymore.” His statement leaves little room to argue but you’re itching to say something anyway. It’s wasn’t your nature to just shut up. You were a lawyer, you were used to arguing.

You grimace as you force yourself to accept your fate. You didn’t want to but in the end you knew Simon was right. So, you follow him, an annoyed look on your face. You hated it when he was right.

“It’s only temporary,” he grumbles as he kicks a door open and pushes you inside. “It’s not like I want it, okay?”

You only roll your eyes, throwing a halfhearted ‘whatever’ at him and inspecting the room he hauled you into. “This is where I’m gonna stay?” you ask him, a slight hint of defeat in your voice.

“Pretty much, yes. I’ll be on the other side of the hallway,” he explains, leaning against the door frame. “In case anything happened, of course,” he immediately adds; just so you don’t get a…wrong picture of this whole thing here.

“We got wifi here?” is you next questions when you turn to look at him, your arms crossed in front of your chest.

“No wifi. No contact to the outer world,” is his answer and you feel your blood start to boil.

“You have to be kidding me! How am I supposed to work then?” You throw your hands in the air, letting out an angry huff. “You can’t just cut me off civilisation!”

He only shrugs. “I can and I will. Work can wait, alright? Your life is more important now.” Again his voice leaves no room to argue but this time you won’t take it. You put your hands on your hips, looking up at him.

“You think that’s how it works? Then, please Lieutenant Riley,” you spit out his rank “fly over to the dozens of war criminals and tell them to stop too! Oh wait-“ you act shocked. “That’s not how it fucking works! You can’t expect me to sit still and look pretty while the world drowns in injustice!”

“Would make things a lot easier tho,” he mumbles under his breath while pushing himself off the door frame. “Just…do something that doesn’t require wifi or anything like that, alright?” Before you can even think of an answer he leaves, shutting the door behind him. Why the hell was he treating like some little child?

~

“How old is she?” Simon wants to know as he hands his old Captain the picture of you back. He’s sat on a chair, his legs spread, one arm resting on the back rest.

“Mid 20s,” Price answers, placing his folded hands onto the table. “She needs security and her father’s not really…trusting the usual companies; and since you’re nearly retired I thought you could use the job.” Simon holds Price’s gaze and nods along. “He trusts me, therefore he trusts you. She’s a lawyer, heavily associated and involved with the UN and human rights.”

“What are the details?” Simon slightly tilts his head, curiously raising his eyebrows.”

“24/7 protection. The full package. You’ve done it before,” Price explains and Simon once again nods along. “Before you take the job tho-“ he pauses. “She’s, well… she’s a lawyer Simon. You need to know what you get into.” The Captains gaze hardens, his back straightening. “She won’t like that she’s on protection detail, therefore she’ll be treating you like that.”

Simon only smirks, flipping his well kept coin between his fingers. “There’s nothing I can’t handle John. I’ve met people like that before and I was perfectly fine.”

Now Price was the one smirking while shaking his head. “I know and I don’t question your abilities but she’s a civilian—the one you’re protecting. You can’t handle this the way you’ve handled other subjects before.”

“I know what I’m getting into,” Simon assures in a calm tone definitely not knowing what he was getting himself into.

~

“Fucking hell,” Simon mutters when he first sees you. You’re walking straight to you office—the one he was sitting in—involved in a heated talk with that seemed like your secretary.

He’s able to make out single words but well, his hearing wasn’t the best anymore after nearly 20 years of military service. And now he thinks he probably should’ve stayed in the field.

The way you’re waking and talking and dressing just screams ‘snob’ at him. He slightly lowers his head to gaze at you, once again playing with his coin. Maybe he should’ve declined the offer and taken on the underground wrestling instead. Would’ve been more fun for sure.

As soon as you spot your guest you send your secretary away, bracing yourself for the following conversation. You weren’t a fan of getting security and you definitely weren’t a fan of the fact that it was a friend of your father’s friend and he—apparently—was everything but easy.

“Lieutenant Riley,” you greet him, extending your hand to him. When he stands up to his full height you slightly crane your neck; the professional smile still on your face.

“Ma’am,” he greets in a gruff voice, the skin of his hand raw and calloused as he return the handshake. “Pleased to meet you.” He isn’t. He just wants to leave but he brought this on himself so he needs to finish it now. ‘One year’, he told himself. ‘Then I can quit.’

“I can only return the pleasure,” you smile, clearing your throat. “Would you mind sitting down at my desk?” You ask, pointing towards said desk. “I think it’s easier to discuss business over there.”

Simon agrees, towering over you as he makes his way over to one of the chairs in front of the desk. You take place behind it, carefully straightening your blouse. He needs to warn himself not to stare. Fuck, why were you so pretty? A pretty little snob…

~

“This has to be taken seriously!” Simon raises his voice at you, successfully blocking the door of your office.

“This is nothing I haven’t dealt with before,” you argue with him, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “So please, Simon, let me get out of my office and back to work.”

He huffs, “Not a change. You’ll be staying here until the threat is cleared.” He glances over his shoulder, loving and hating the fact that you had a glass office. “Are these bullet prove?” he asks, looking at you again.

You sigh, “No.”

“We’ll have that changed,” he immediately answers and you start to shake your head.

“We’ll have nothing changed! You weren’t hired to renovate my office!” You walk towards him. “Now, Mr. Riley, please step aside so I can continue working.”

“Not happening.” He straightens up to his full height, expecting you to back off but you do the exact opposite. You swat your finger at him, looking up.

“I don’t care what you think, you will stay here; if you want it or not.” His voice is stern and stoic and you need to do your best to not full on scream at him.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that,” you hiss, your index finger jabbing his chest. “I can make my own decisions, I’m a responsible adult. So don’t you dare talk down to me that way!”

When Simon doesn’t make a move you let out an angry huff and shake your head. Then you turn away and stalk towards your desk. “Fucking military man,” you curse under your breath, ignoring the way he stared you down.

~

You stare at your open suitcase, debating what to wear. On the one hand, you kinda were on your own, on the other hand, Simon was with you.

You were comfortable in your body—no question—you actually kinda liked the extra cushions but sometimes you felt like Simon was staring at you. Like he wasn’t able to take his eyes off of you and that made you…feel something. Something you were afraid of.

“Ah fuck it,” you say under your breath, fishing out some shorts and a shirt. You could care less about what Simon thinks. You both are only work related. Nothing else.

You tap down the stairs, walking straight into the kitchen. “You want something to eat?” You ask Simon, glancing at him when you hear him enter.

“You willing to make some?” he jokes, expecting you to say ‘no’ but when you say ‘yes’ his eyes widen and he pauses for a second. When you notice it you let out a small chuckle, opening the fridge and multiple cabinets to see what you could make.

“Any friends that’ll miss you?” he asks once you place a plate in front of him, looking up at you with curious eyes.

You shake your head, “Nope. Not really.” You sit down opposite of him, grabbing your fork. “Too busy to have friends.”

He tilts his head, blindly picking up the food either his fork. “No boyfriend?” He knows you don’t have one. You have no dates, no flings, nothing; but he wants to hear it from you. Maybe then his fantasies wouldn’t be so forbidden…

“Please,” you laugh. “We’d be divorced before we even married.” You take a sip of water and look at him. “I don’t have time for relationships and that kind of stuff. I have a target to pursue. Ain’t no time for distraction.”

He only nods in an understanding manner, playing with his beer bottle. “And you?” you ask. “You got someone?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. I’ve got you to deal with. That’s enough.” He smirks when he sees your facial expression, letting out a low chuckle. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for,” he continues joking. “But no. I don’t have anyone. Never really had.”

“Oh…” you say in an almost pitiful tone and he hates it. It not that he couldn’t get someone. He just didn’t want to. That’s a big difference. “Well not really different for me,” you then snort, slightly grimacing. You had this one guy ask you out for prom but that turned out to be a bet rather fast and after than you decided to not to date in school or university anymore.

Yeah sure, you were more chubby than other girls but that doesn’t mean that you’re not lovable, right? By now you were comfortable in your body—you were in your mid 20’s—but sometimes you felt yourself slipping back into the insecure girl you once were. The one who thought that no man would ever lay his eyes on her in a lustful or loving manner.

Simon’s itching to say something; to ask why you don’t have anyone… You’re perfect. You’re nice—even if he hated to admit it. You’re pretty, you’re so fucking soft… Did the men around you not see that?

“Simon?” You wave your hand around in front of his face, chuckling when he slightly flinches, his pupils blow. “Are you alright?” you carefully ask, eying him as if something was wrong.

But he only clears his throat, “Yes. Everything’s fine.” Then he hastily stands up and nods at you. “Thank you for the food.”

You watch after him as he leaves, a frown on your face. Was he really okay or was he just lying to you?

Simon on the other hand was probably turning red as a tomato. How could he allow himself to slip like that? Fuck, he needed to keep himself better under control.

As soon as he reaches his room he shuts the door and leans against it while opening his pants with shaking hands.

He had a—growing—problem and he needed take care of it. Now.

-

Approximately one week into the lockdown Simon finds you in the living room, crouched over a bunch of files and documents.

“What’s that?” he wants to know, looking over your shoulder.

“Work,” you simply reply, taking notes and pushing the papers around. You were so close, this close to finally finish this case but something was missing and it stressed you out.

He slowly nods, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “And how did you manage to get these files?”

“I’m a lawyer Simon. I have my ways and connections,” is your plain answer and you can basically feel him tensing behind you.

“What if they give away your location,”

“They won’t.”

“How can you be sure?” He tries his best to be calm but god, you were testing his nerves. He gave you strict orders and you were supposed to follow them.

You turn around with an annoyed sigh, looking up at him. “Because my father brought me those. You think he would sell me out to the enemy? I doubt so.”

You raise your eyebrow, waiting for any other complaint by him but be only looks at the files behind you, then at you again. “Maybe check the mission reports of the special forces.” With that he leaves you alone, more than confused.

You know why Simon told you what he told you when you find what you need exactly there. The mission reports were sitting somewhere beneath everything else because you didn’t pay much attention to them; in the end they were the solution.

Now you could finally link the crimes to someone and with that to the government or the military at least.

The next time you see Simon you almost jump into his arms, thanking him over and over again. “Now the case is finally closed,” you tell him with a big grin on your face, completely forgetting that you’re usually not so happy when around him.

Simon just awkwardly pats your back, pushing you off him and ignoring the burning desire deep within him. He knew it was risky to give you a tip but you were struggling and he didn‘t like that. He just hoped that you wouldn’t ask him why he knew that you should look at the mission reports. Once you knew that he was a war criminal this job would be over. And while you certainly were a pain in the ass sometimes he felt a very present attraction towards you.

-

Simon realises he’s a goner when he wakes up one morning and sees you walking around in a shirt. Just a shirt, as far as he can see and it does something to you. His hands are itching to touch you and he finds himself excusing himself more and more to the bathroom.

And you? You started to notice the kind of power you have over him and it makes you boast with pride. You, a chubby little lawyer in your mid 20s, has him, an almost 40 year old retired military Lieutenant, wrapped around your little finger.

After that you decide to play a little game. Wouldn’t hurt, no? Just subtle touches. Brushing his arm when you walk past him, patting his chest when he helps you with something, your legs touching his whenever you sit beside him.

He tries to shrug it off but you can practically feel how worked up he gets and how hard it is for him to keep him shit together; and that fuels you only more. How long would it take for him to break? To crumble beneath your touch, huh? You wanted, no, you needed to find that out.

Simon knows what you were doing. He isn’t stupid but he hates it. How was he so weak that you were able to play with him like that?

After a week, maybe two of you dancing around him he has you caged in against the kitchen counter, towering over you.

“What makes you think you can just play with me like that, huh?” he asks in a low voice, his eyes scanning your face for any reaction. “You think it’s funny? Working me up like that every day?”

You try not to be intimidated—or turned on—by him but god, he’s just- you don’t have any words for it. He’s tall, broad and fucking strong. You once got a look at the muscles under all his clothes and you weren’t the same after that. Nu-uh.

“I thought you like it,” you reply with a cocky grin, trying to overshadow your uncertainty. “Do you want me to stop?” You blink at him, acting all innocent and pure. In the corner of your eye you see his grip on the counter tightening. Oh, you had him where you wanted him.

A ‘bloody hell’ is all you get before his lips crash down onto yours and he heaves you on top of the counter. His hands find their way to your hips, scarred fingers tracing them and squeezing, wanting to pull you even closer.

The moment his lips touch yours you forget everything else. This is want you wanted—needed—for weeks. And lord, that man knew what he was doing.

You weren’t a fan of him dragging and pushing you around but right now? Right now you couldn’t wish for anything else. You bury your hands in the dirty kind strands of hair on the back of his head, gently pulling at them which results in him groaning in your mouth.

“Take me to the bedroom and maybe I’ll stop teasing you,” you breathlessly tell him once he breaks the kiss only to kiss you again immediately making you all hot and tingly.

You can feel him smirk against his lips before they trail down your neck towards your collar bone. “Ain’t gonna take you anywhere love,” he whispers and you’re able to once again feel him smirk against your skin. “Gonna fuck you right here on that kitchen counter. You want that?” he looks up at you through hooded eyes, which makes you swallow.

“Words love, words.” His tone is playful even tho you can see the desperation in the way his hands move all over your body, letting you see stars already.

“Yes…please,” you almost choke out, feeling like everything you want to say is being swallowed my your throat again. You’re unable to talk.

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Simon teases, straightening up to kiss your lips again, cupping your cheek. “Gonna take good care of you,” he promises. “I’m gonna show you how a real man treats you,” he swears and you can feel a familiar but also unfamiliar heat building in the pit of your stomach.

(i got scared to write the rest👍🏼. i’m sorry, i’m still new to writing smut😭)

[idkfitememate]

We need more boar and venti fluff

They gotta be chaotic besties

Or chaotic rivals

Like all venti sees is boar creator loving saying this:

Venti vs. Boar..?

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! Boar Reader vs. Venti/Barbatos

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 1.8k

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : CRACK CRACK CRACK, tiny bit of angst ???, fluff :3

Barbatos was a benevolent god.

He was the god of freedom for Archon’s sake! His entire deal was allowing these people the will and right to choose to live their lives however they pleased with no judgement from him or anyone.

And yet, here he was absolutely hating the free will of a single Boar.

Now it wasn’t like he wasn’t amazed at all the way the Boar found to terrorize his people, but the animosity came from the fact that the Boar targeted him out of everyone.

Like why??? What did he do to them??? He just fucking existed and the Boar decided he would be the perfect victim.

Which was ironic, he guessed. He, a God, was being bested by a Boar.

Venti sneezed for the one hundredth time as he combed the cat hair off his clothes and out his own hair, sighing and subsequently coughing afterwards.

All because of that damned Boar.

And Venti didn’t swear a lot so you know he means business.

Just recently the Boar had surprised him with a tree full of cats, which was awful, naturally. Why and how this Boar knew his weaknesses he would not know, but Venti was tired.

He wanted to know the Boar’s weaknesses, anything really, just to get back in some kind of way. His people loved the thing, but as time continued, he really didn’t feel too much.

Annoyance? Yeah. A tiny bit of anger? Yeah that too. But any real kind of rage?.. No.

Every time he tried to will any kind legitimate rage or true anger towards the animal, he just couldn’t. The faint memory of the Boar sleeping next to him under a tree never fully faded from his mind.

Barbara’s fan club was slowly dissipating because of them. Which was nice, amazing for her. Jean was finding more time to relax due to them taking Klee out of the city for a while to do… whatever they did, again amazing of everyone really. Everyone seemed to be benefiting by the Boar’s presence in one way or another, besides Venti.

He just couldn’t understand it! Why? What did he do in order to piss this Boar off so bad, that it would try to fight him at every given moment. He was tired of it.

Hoping down from the tree he was currently residing in, Venti slowly made his way into town, taking off his hat and ruffling his hair, plopping it back on haphazardly and yawning. As soon as the gates of Mondstadt came into view, Venti stopped and slapped his cheeks lightly, taking a deep breath and dawning his signature grin, nearly skipping into the city.

He greeted children and slowly made his way to the bar, but was stopped by shouting down an alley. Looking around and noting no one nearby, Venti leaned back and took a look. There, he found, was his enemy, The Boar. And by the looks of it, one of Barbara’s fan club members.

Venti honestly almost snickered at the sight of this full grown man down on his ass by a very angry Boar. Every attempt to rise back up was met with hooves to the face and legs - and even once the poor man’s balls R.I.P. - and all he could do was moan and groan some shit about having to go see her, a comment that would be met with a head but.

For a few minutes it was funny, watching you beat the shit out of that man, but it very quickly and very suddenly escalated. The man, despite all the pain he should’ve been in, shoved you off. You were disoriented for a second, but quickly jumped back up to beat the shit out of him, but he - the mad man he was - whipped out a switchblade.

Venti’s eyes widened, taking a step forward to help, but instead was met with a harsh gust of wind. His eyes shut from shock, only opening after putting hands in front of his eyes. You, the Boar, was blowing on the man, pressing him against the back wall of the alley.

After pressing him there for sometime, you dropped him, smoke billowing from your snout, you stepped forward and opened wide, revealing flame licking the back of your throat.

The man screamed, the blade long forgotten as he jumped up and ran, shoving past Venti and into the streets.

Venti turned to look at you, you who had your chest puffed up in pride and glee. You both stared at each other for a moment, before you scuttled away, darting out the alleyway and into the city.

Venti tugged on one of his braids, eyes glancing back over at the alley. With a new pep in his step, Venti walked back into the sun, out of the alleys.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍬🍯🍡୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Drinking was a long-time acquaintance to Venti, something he knew would never leave him even as the sands of time continued to flow.

He’d never be one to admit why he drank, and with the looks he’d get from Master Diluc and other patrons, he didn’t think he’d ever admit it. To himself, or anyone.

The bard had just been kicked out on his ass, Diluc staring worriedly yet disappointedly at the man, musing something about going home and sleeping this off. Venti shrugged with a giggle and shambled off into the darkened streets.

The tipsy man sang drunkenly, old sea shanties and bar songs bouncing off the silent streets, making it seem as though there were a thousand men singing with him. With each passing breath he grew louder, though if anyone was awake at the time, no one tried to silence him.

Venti wobbled his way closer to the entrance of Mondstadt to go off to his favorite tree to nap, cape half-hung around his shoulders and top buttons of his shirt undone.

He was stopped abruptly by a hand dragging him down another alleyway. What was with him and alleys today?? He was slammed against the back wall, a hand unceremoniously slamming over his lips, finally silencing the rambled singing.

Now he wasn’t scared, the god in a man’s body knew very well that no matter what he’d be fine. His real… concern(??) was in the fact that someone even had the gall to do something like this. Not to say Mondstadt didn’t see any crime of course it was usually just… regulated.

Venti looked up to the man who had the nerve and - yep - it was a Fatui member. The grunt was shaking, breath puffing out into the cool night air. His lips were trembling as he huffed, eyes darting between Venti and some invisible force beyond the alley. Just as Venti was about to speak up, the Fatui member beat him to it.

“Listen, we don’t have much time but I can’t risk it finding me-“ He cut himself off, flinching at the sound of something falling over, looking over to find a cat next to a fallen flower pot. He sighed and sniffled, stiffening up again to look down at Venti.

“Just keep your mouth shut, okay? No more singin’, no more nothin’. Just be quiet and let me slip away-“ This time, he was interrupted by flame dancing across the walls of the alley, licking him and Venti.

The man screamed, tears suddenly pouring from the eyeholes of his mask as he ran through the alley towards the other end, only to be blocked by a wall of Geo. He sobbed louder, slamming his fists against the wall in hopes of anything happening.

Venti stared at the pathetic display, drunken mind still comprehending the literal man-child before him who had by this point slid onto the floor with his face in the dirt, sobbing into the ground.

Venti looked back up at the sound of small hooves trotting along, coming into view was you. Despite your trotting, your face read nothing but rage to the short god, and all he could do was shiver and let you pass him by. Even when dealing with all your pranks you never looked at him like… that.

There was something in your eyes he couldn’t read, power radiating off you like a rushing river. He almost fell to his knees.

Finally you made it to the whimpering Fatui grunt, who was now on his knees and shaking like a leaf. Your little trot came to a stop as you stepped closer to the quivering mess of a man before you both. You snorted in disgust and flicked him with your front hoof, making him squeal like a child.

He jumped onto his ass and pressed his back at the wall, kicking at you as you oinked in annoyance. Venti could only watch, having sobered up a bit by this point. Sure, it was obvious that you saving him - even if he could’ve done it himself - was a byproduct of you already being on the Fatui members ass, but it was the mere fact that you did.

There was an understand between you both, unspoken, that you each knew the other was non-human. Venti had a damn good idea that you knew he was Barbatos, but to you… he wasn’t entirely sure. Evidently you were different, he’d be a fool to not see that, but he genuinely couldn’t place it.

Venti was thrown from his train of thought when the Fatui member flew over his head, screaming. He landed with a thud and scurried off, screaming. Both you and Venti watched, you huffing with pride.

You glanced up at Venti and snorted, and began trotting off.

“… Wait!” Venti’s voice called out. You stopped and turned, looking at the bard with interest. He took a few cautious steps towards you which would’ve been offensive… if you hadn’t deserved it.

When he got close enough, you sat down which made him flinch. You snort-chuckled and he clicked his tongue. Finally he stood before you, staring down at you as you awaited why he stopped you.

“… Why?” The question startled you. You tilted your head and he sighed.

“Why do you hate me so much? Why do you seem to despise me out of everyone?” Your eyes widened before you huffed, turning away, eyes downcast.

Venti sighed before kneeling, and with a hesitating, shaking hand, he ran his fingers through your hair, brushing his nails over your scalp. After a beat, you leaned into the touch.

“I don’t know why, but I’m tired of fighting you. Small truce, just for a while?” You hummed, tail starting to wag as he pet your head. The wall of geo fell behind you both and a nice breeze blew in, cooling Venti’s face and bringing a smile to his lips.

“Thank you, Wild Boar.”

You snorted.

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : No because that ending tho I’m so tired LMAO-

[moth-ink]

''Off-The-Clock Paycheck.''

AURON x FINACIALLY CHALLENGED!READER

Summary: (GN!)Rook is struggling financially and is way too proud to ever accept help or complain to her boss, lover (and sugar daddy, he likes to think to himself) but Auron has different plans, I mean, he wouldn't bare to let something that belongs to him go without all the luxuries they deserve obviously.

Warning: NSFW, sugar daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, mild coercion, poor living situation and simping (from the author, of course)

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: Sugar daddy time lets gooo, all characters belong to @yuurivoice ,also let me know if you want a part two ;)

Thorough, if there was one thing Auron was, it was thorough.

Which was is why he was surprised when he found out about your.. situation, I mean, he was dropping you home and he thought joking when you told him to drop you off at this trash heap of an apartment complex.

But it wasn't a joke, and he felt disgusted.

Not at you, of course, your independence and fiery spirit were far from disgusting-- quite the opposite, it was arousing as fuck.

But at this cracked, borderline hazardous apartment complex that was far below the standards that his rookie should be exposed to, he wasn't expecting something as grand as his penthouse but Jesus Christ, this place was basically falling apart.

He loved your independence, your dedication to doing things for yourself, it was part of what drew him to you, what made him so damn infatuated after that first dinner with you.

But for fuck sakes, your inability to accept help from him was infuriating, he tried to offer you money, a better living situation, it was hardly a bother to him (and hey, if you were to say... move into his penthouse, well, waking up to having you in his bed every morning is hardly an inconvenience) but your stubborn ass attitude rendered you unable to accept his financial aid despite the fact he was a millionaire CEO.

But that's alright.

Not only is Auron thorough, but he's also a very cunning man when he wants to be.

He can be patient, and he can be very, very convincing, especially when it's to get what he wants.

''Pet, so glad you could join me for this.. little weekend rendezvous.'' Auron addressed you as you climbed into his car, it was a crisp Saturday morning and he had texted you to let you know he'd be dropping by.

''Any particular reason you called me on our day off? thought you'd be lounging at home like everyone else.'' you laughed gently, clipping in your seatbelt and smirking at him, ''Or did you just miss me that much?~''

Auron huffed a little, ''I don't miss anyone, pet, I just... needed someone to accompany me today.'' he gave you a pointed look before continuing, ''I find tasks like shopping to be quite.. monotonous, perhaps a little company can help ease the tedious nature.''

''Oh? are you looking for something in particular?'' you asked curiously.

He paused for a beat, carefully selecting his next words, ''..I am in need of a new outfit, I would just order online, but it's better to try on the clothes I wear to assure they're up to my standards.''

You rolled your eyes.

''Oh rook.'' he smirked, leaning a bit closer, ''You should know this, i'm very particular about what I present with and.. who I present myself with.''

He leaned closer, brushing his large, cold hand over your throat, making you swallow thickly.

''Which is why I'm going to make sure my pet leaves today with something much nicer than..'' he whispered in your ear, his hand slipping down to run over your worn clothes, ''..this.''

You shiver as he runs a firm hand over your chest, to your stomach and then onto your thigh, the weight of his hand against your clothes, teasing your bare skin underneath made your pulse quicken.

''Oh my god, Auron!'' You said in disbelief, staring down the frilly garment with borderline hysteria, ''I'm not wearing that outside!''

It was a frilly dark red Victorian style corset with black and dark gold accents, it looked pulled straight out of a gothic vampiric novel.

''If you don't want to wear it outside, that's quite fine but..'' Auron's eyes darkened as he leaned closer, ''I'd appreciate a.. private modelling, if you would.''

His voice was a silky purr, held with promise that made something warm stir in your stomach, but you held strong.

''I'm not paying that much for you to live out some weird, sexy vampire fetish.'' you huffed, crossing your arms playfully.

Auron rolled his eyes, ''How many times do I need to say it, rook, i'll be paying for.. anything you'd like.'' he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You flushed, a stab of guilt cutting through your arousal, ''I-I told you Auron, y-you don't have to do that--''

He cut you off with a firm, pointed tone, ''How many times do I need to make myself clear? I don't do anything I don't want to do, I'm not this selfless little saint trying to sponsor you out of pity or any bullshit like that.''

''Have you ever considered maybe I'm doing this for my own gain?'' he hummed, his grey eyes looking down at you, ''That maybe I just want to see the object of my affection dressed in something I bought for them? something that they'd be wearing just for me?''

His tone slipped darker and rougher as he leaned down, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer, glancing around the store.

It was a luxury mall, much different to anything you've ever been to, and the high end shopping center was filled with women, men and everyone else in between being spoiled by their partners.

''I mean, you'd hardly be the only one.'' he smirked and huffed in slight amusement, before looking back down at you, ''Besides, don't you want to be my good little pet?''

You flushed, ''I-I can't Auron, it goes against everything i've worked for!'' you whined, feeling stabs of embarrassment and shame at the idea of taking like that from him, lover or not.

''I know, you love being a hard worker and yada yada.'' he rolls his grey eyes, an idea sprouting in his head, ''And if that's the way you want to play it, then fine... think about it like this--''

He continued walking, keeping you tucked in his arm as he put things in the cart he saw you looking at, ''You're here, keeping a prick like me company while he shops, must be real exhausting huh?''

You smirk a little despite yourself, ''Unbelievably, what's your point?''

''Then consider it some.. freelance work.'' he hums, carefully choosing his words, ''An off-the-clock paycheck, if you would.''

''My point is... a good pet like you deserves a little reward for dealing with.. such an unpleasant individual such as myself.'' he smirked, rubbing his hand on your shoulder, ''So why don't you let that jackass reward you for your temperance?''

You flushed harder, pricks of arousal stirring with shame in your stomach until you could barely tell the difference between the two.

''...One thing, i'll let you buy one thing.''

His grin widened, his grey eyes flashing in predatory triumphant and you couldn't repress the shiver as he leaned down, his voice a low growl of; ''Good choice, pet.''

You had brushed off his 'proposition' to freelance being basically a sugar baby, you had assumed it was nothing more than a flirt, a line to convince you to let him buy you something that he could tear off later.

You were sorely mistaken.

He started small, you weren't an easy person to crack and he knew it'd take time before you'd fully give into him.

A snack here and there, lunch from time to time, a small present that would make work easier, a small present for your own personal use.

All very simple, normal things.

But similar to how a ball of snow builds and builds, something that starts off miniscule and manageable can roll further and collect into something much larger that you could anticipate.

You sat on your worn couch, surrounded by the cramped, water damaged walls of your apartment, speaking on the phone to someone who you were starting to suspect was perhaps a bit drunk, I mean it'd explain the lotacracy of the shit spilling from his mouth.

''Auron, no!'' you squawked, a dark flush rising on your cheeks at the pure audacity of his words, ''I would never let you do that!''

''Why not?'' he asked in a snarky tone, ''A dumpster like that is hardly going to cost that much, besides, if you don't want me to pay your rent then I can just buy out the building.''

You gaped in disbelief, I mean, who fucking just does that?!

Auron does, thats who.

''Stop being a little brat, rook.'' he huffs from the other end of the phone, and you could picture him rolling those grey eyes of his.

''I'm not being a brat, w-what are you drunk or some shit?!"' you said in pure disbelief, leaning back against the armrest of your couch, ''That's not something normal people do, Auron!"'

He chuckled egotistically, ''Oh? and you'd lump me in with the common man rook? I feel hurt.''

His voice dropped an octave, honey dripped over rough words filled with desire and promise, ''You know how I feel about little brats, rook, do you need a little punishment as a reminder of who's in charge here?''

''Because last I checked, little brats like you don't get to make these decisions.'' he growled, his words reading like honeyed thorn, ''It's up to men like me who keep little things like you in their place, and i've decided that I don't want you to waste anything more on that trash heap you call an apartment complex.''

You felt the walls of your apartment curl more into themselves, shrinking the space until all you could focus on was the silk voice speaking to you, so loving but so very rough at the same time.

The warmed air around you grew tense, it seemed as if your entire apartment complex held it's breath as you wet your lips.

''..Can we talk more about it tomorrow?''

Silly, silly little rookie.

''Please..'' you moaned, desperatly.

Your bare stomach pressed against the cold wood of his desk, his hands resting on either side of where your hips bent over the dark desk.

''What a naughty little thing..'' he growled, his voice low and rough as he rubbed his leaking tip against you, ''Refusing to let me take care of it, to take care of you.''

He groaned and grinded more insistently against you.

''M' not gonna make you take care of me, i-is not fair--'' they whined, their hole clenching where they wishes to be filled.

''Not fair, huh?'' he spoke in mock empathy, his voice dripping in honeyed sarcasm, ''So unfair to me, isnt it?''

He growled, pushing the top part of his length into you, ''I'm a very selfish man, rook.''

''Has your pretty little head ever stopped to consider that I don't want something that belongs to me among such filth?'' his voice pitched to a low rumble, ''S' why sugar babies exist, rook, men like me don't want their little darlings worrying their pretty little minds about rent or finances-- i mean, that's time that could be spent on me, rook.''

You moaned as he pressed further in, his hard length taking the time to thorougly rub against your quivering entrance as he slowly sinks into the velvety warmth surrounding him.

He was a tease, and the worst part is he knew you loved it.

''Why should I have to share your attention with something so trivial if I could provide anything you needed or wanted, hah?'' He grunts, puncuating his sentence by suddenly shoving more of his length inside of you.

You mewled and quivered, you couldn't deny the way his words sunk deep into your flushed skin, the shame you've built over the years at the idea of someone taking care of you like that resurfacing in a heavy but.. strangely arousing way.

He rubbed his large hands over your body where he leaned over your back, running across your arms and back teasingly.

''As I said before, m' a very selfish man, rook.'' he smirked in a dark, predatory way, his grey eyes scanning over you in the same manner a lion would look over it's next meal, ''Maybe I like the idea of you relying on me and only me, being able to spoil you with things you could only have because of me, smiling and happy because i've brought that to you.''

He shoves the full length of his cock inside you, expertely rubbing the tip along your bundle of nerves until your squirming.

He moves slowly, taking his delicious time to slide himself in and out of your tight embrace, you can hear him panting with the effort to not ruthlessly dig into you.

''Of course, don't worry rook,'' he croons in mock gentleness, betrayed by the glint of darkness in his grey eyes, ''Even when you're being a little brat, I would never rip it away from you..~"'

You whimper as he nearly slides out completely, ''P-Please, I-I need... m-more.''

''There we go,'' he grins in dark approval, his teeth bared in slight triumph, ''Feel how good it is to have more, to accept more from me, rook.''

He roughly shoves back into you, pounding back and forth at a punishing pace.

Egged on by your squeals of pleasure and pleas for more, he continues the brutal pace, tucking your thighs under his hands and shoving your legs upwards, allowing for deeper thrusts.

Pleasure shoots throughout your spine as he digs into you with his throbbing cock, the girth of it stretching out your walls deliciously.

''I wanted more, I wanted more in life, rook, and I took it.'' He growls out, rubbing the tip of his throbbing member on the bundle of nerves that makes lighting bolts of pleasure shoot throughout your quivering form, ''And so can you, you can take more, like I did, like i'm taking you right in this moment.''

His voice leaves him in a low rumble, sweat beading down his bare chest as the sound of squelching and bare skin slapping fills the room.

''Say yes, rook.'' he entices in a low voice, like a devil whispering sweet nothings into your ear, ''Say yes and accept more, all you have to do is belong to me.''

You whimper and spasm, ''M-M' gonna..'' you pant, feeling your stomach tighten in anticipation.

''Ah, ah, ah, not so fast rookie.'' he growls, his hand moving down to tease you in all the right spots, running you along the cliff without ever letting you fall into the ocean of ecstasy brimming right below.

''Ya want more, don't you?'' he smiles predatorily, his grey eyes darkening until they looked almost black, ''Accept me, my offer, and get more.''

He ran you along the edge, he would never let you tip over until you agreed.

''Auuurrrooon!~'' your voice was a whine, your head tipping back slightly, his fingers kneaded themselves in your hair and he tugged backwards, leaning forward to whisper darkly in your ear.

''Say yes, let me spoil you, get you out of that disgusting little pound and you can let go,'' he murmured, desire soaking into his tone, ''Do it, rook, theres no point in pretending you don't want it, modesty will get you nowhere.''

Your resolve was cracking with each thrust, each punishing push of his leaking tip on that bundle of nerves dissolving your pride, your pride of everything you've come to accomplish on your own.

But.. what have you really accomplished on your own? your house was a dump, you were barely scraping by, and all you had to show for it was nothing but the pride of knowing you've survived all on your own no matter how much it had taken off your soul.

He whispers to you, his silky voice wrapping around your brain like a vice, deceptive in it's gentle sweetness as he roughly shoved himself back into your stretched walls.

''You can let go when you let me catch you, rook.''

''

[thelaughtercafe]

Soul Eater Ler Headcanons

Tea Type: Brown Sugar Boba

Potential Triggers: N/A

Pairing: Soul/F! Reader, Death the Kid/F! Reader, Black Star/F! Reader, Maka/F! Reader. Tsubaki/F! Reader, Liz/F! Reader, Patty/F! Reader, Stein/F! Reader

Length: 1.5k+

Summary: N/A

Soul Eater Evans:

Soul is very casual most of the time and I feel like tickling someone to pieces wouldn’t be any different. 

Like Maka, takes it in complete stride which his Lee likely wouldn’t expect if they’d hidden it from him out of fear for any length of time. 

He finds this hysterical and incredibly endearing at the same time, leading to him laughing at you good-naturedly. 

“Damn, you went that long without something you wanted out of some misguided sense of feeling weird? You could’ve just told me, ya know. I tickle Blackstar and Maka all the time, Hell you’ve seen me do it. You had to know I wouldn’t mind.”

When you fumbled to explain it was different he sighed and rubbed his head. 

“Man, you’re hopeless. Least now I know why you ran away all those times. Must’ve been really embarrassing for you, huh?”

He grinned, wiggling his fingers at you eagerly as he cornered you.  

“Welp, guess all we can do is make up for lost time huh? C'mere so I can help you experience what you’ve wanted so bad first hand!”

He’s not a chaser, prefers for you and him to be more stationary. 

Admittedly gets a kick at seeing you try to hold your arms up or not struggle too much, even though a cool guy like him could totally overpower you.  

Reassures you in his own way too, bringing it up casually after wrecking you after you both had a stressful test that day. 

“Y'know, the others won’t mind tickling you either. Even on the fraction of a chance they’re not willing to- they wouldn’t make fun of you for it. Even if they did, they’d have me to deal with!”

He flashed a shark-toothed grin your way. 

“You like being tickled. So what? C'mon, say it. I know you can!”

Messes with you for a few days and sessions until you finally spit the words out. 

He doesn’t tickle you directly till you get it out- only giving a quick poke or huff of air along your neck or ears to make you jump, around the others that prick-until you crack. 

He’s kind’ve mean about it, honestly, but he does it to help you not hide who you are from the others. It’s all out of love in the end. 

Rubs it in your face so hard when he ends up right. Doesn’t let you live it down ever. 

Expect group tickle sessions for a while too just to be extra sure you got the message it’s not a big deal. 

Maka Albarn:

Maka is really intuned with everyone around her and that translates to when she Ler’s too. 

She senses the little things- the way someone leans into her touch when they like a spot. 

She’s kind too- not the type to call you out and tease you for it like Soul or Stein, and if she does it’s playful and she’ll immediately admit she liked it just as much as you.  

She loves to make others happy, and this is no exception. She views it as perfectly natural and normal and just about Maka-Chop’s you anytime you put yourself down. 

You learn to accept your little quirk with her and the rest of your friends help. 

Black Star:

God Blackstar is a rough one. 

Good luck, the second he finds out you’re ticklish I hope you like it because he’s gonna use it to mess with you constantly. 

Getting out of things, making you forgive him for small mistakes, you name it he’ll implement tickling somehow if it fits. 

And when Tsubaki finally spells it out for him that you like it? 

Even training isn’t safe then and he is merciless in that environment when he’s focused so trust- you both do and don’t wanna be caught by him. 

He’s loud when he teases so you have to be direct and tell him not in public, and remind him if it bothers you fairly often otherwise the whole damn school is gonna know. 

Speaking of teasing, KING of teases.

I’m blushing just thinking about it. 

“Wow, is this really all you can handle? I know it’s a tall order because you’re up against a big star like me, but I’ll have to help you build up your stamina and endurance.”

“You’re lucky there’s no Kishin who tickle their victims; otherwise you’d be a goner for sure! Luckily you have the great Blackstar to help you as a failsafe precaution! Aren’t you lucky?”

300% uses his Ninja skills to fuck with you.  

Sorry I don’t make the rules. 

You called his bluff when he was just starting out and assumed he was loud and obnoxious with no other mode and boy did that backfire on you horribly. 

After finding out you like being tickled, guess who now has a way to show you just how well he can sneak up on people whenever and wherever he wants?

Uses tickles as a reward/motivation too, to keep you training with him just that little bit longer than you usually would. 

Tsubaki:

Gosh she’s so flustering as a Ler without even trying. 

It’s because she’s so sincere and gentle. 

It makes her amusement and sweet teases all the more effective. 

“Aww you’re so precious like this! I’ve gotta do this more often!”

She’s one of the easiest Lers to go to, especially if you want relaxing tickles. 

She’s so gentle technique wise, really only using spidering and stroking but it still tickles like Hell. 

The only one who can reign Blackstar in with either tickling him or just talking sense.  

Death the Kid:

Kid is generally very put together and that translates to when he lers. 

Of course, he has to tickle symmetrically which means his poor Lee will have to put up with either both his hands or two tools at once. 

The only good thing is that means you know the sensations are predictable. 

Unless he has Liz and Patty help. Then? Then they’re really in trouble, because they’ll do the same, but as long as they keep the same technique? Kid’s fine letting them have variety from him. Predictability neutralized. 

Unintentionally so flustering, holy shit. 

Kid is naturally very logical and serious, and has a dry, sarcastic sense of humor. That man’s smirk is lethal. 

Absolutely uses this to his advantage. After all, he has to make both of your cheeks the same pretty shade of red, and what better way to do that then make it cover your whole face~?

“Oh come now, surely it can’t tickle that badly? You’re flattering me.”

Can’t stop at an uneven time- works together with his Lee to get to 88 minutes for perfect symmetry. 

He’ll stop before that if needed of course, but it’s typically best when the numbers match. 

Patty:

Brings out of her Lee’s childish natures with her own. 

Tends to giggle happily along with her Lee and is one of the Lers most often to start tickle fights and the like. 

Adores how much fun it is to make her friends, family and s/o’s laugh omg. 

It’s why she does it so often. 

Most think she’s not smart but really, she’s quite aware. She just chooses to embrace her more childish side openly. 

Loves to tease her Lee’s and pouts when she has to stop or gets pulled away by Liz. 

“Aww but why? They’re so cute like this!!”

“Yes Patty but you kind of need them alive to tickle them more yeah? Let ‘em breathe, k?”

She salutes her sister all cute-like.

“K!!”

Switches spots often and has to get reminded by Kid to be more symmetrical if they’re Ler'ing someone together because she forgets a lot and it always makes her Lee jump in their grip. 

Liz:

Queen of self-care/self-comfort tickles, for both her Lee and herself. 

Compliments galore she’s so damn nice.

“Your laugh is so pretty, I swear. I’m so jealous!”

“Oh my God your nails are so cute!! You have to paint them for me later! Maybe if you agree to I’ll stop~”

Her teases are like that, mixed with her genuine compliments. 

The most merciful between her sister and Kid. 

Kid tends to get lost in the symmetry while tickling his Lee so if she’s helping or knows he’s gonna be Ler'ing someone she always reminds him to set an alarm so the poor Lee isn’t stuck there for 3 hours.

Definitely hasn’t happened more than once, nope. 

Not that the Lee was complaining-

Absolutely loves using her nails as a tickle tool. It’s her go-to method and she is good.

Stein:

Unsurprisingly, the scientist who loves to experiment, also does so when tickling. It’s just his nature. 

In addition to that he’s perceptive as Hell so good luck hiding your reactions. 

In all likelihood, he knows instinctively if a Lee enjoys it thanks to seeing their Soul and being able to sense their nature better than most. 

Let’s face it; Stein’s a complete sadist- and not only that- he’s very open about that fact. 

Which means if it gets to you that he’s like that he’ll absolutely call you out and mess with you with it, switching between his typically playful and analytical self and his more cruel side. 

Knows every tool out there, and relishes testing more unconventional ones too like back scratchers, combs and the like. 

That goes for enhancement methods too. Everything from oil, sensory deprivation, and bondage. Whatever he can think of, really. 

[undertheorangetree]

Under the God's Eye

Chapter One- The Deal

Summary- In order to have a peaceful holiday, Aemond asks his academic rival for a favour.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ This story is going to be NSFW. Female reader. No real knowledge of how law school works. Mentions of finals season.

Author’s Note- Making banners is very new to me but graphic design is my passion. I’ve had a couple people ask about tag lists and I’m willing to make one for this series so reply to this if you’d like to be on it :) Full chapter on AO3

Series masterlist

divider created by firefly-graphics

Despite appearances, she quite likes the train. It’s often overcrowded and either too hot or too cold, but she manages to find a seat more often than not. So long as she doesn’t forget her headphones, it can be almost relaxing to stare out the window and let her mind wander.

Today is the exception. With finals less than three days away, she thinks she would prefer to be anywhere but here on this sweltering train, packed to the brim with people just as sweaty and irritable as she is. But she had no choice but to pack her things and make her way down to campus today, with a roommate moving out and a new one moving in. She can’t afford to be distracted when she has two back to back finals and she would be damned if she failed them all because Alysanne had picked a bad time to move out.

The train lurches to a stop outside Blackwater station and she manages to push her way out of the car before the doors lock her back inside. It is not a far walk to the university library but she cannot help but think that it feels farther today, nerves wracking at her like they are. She nearly sighs in relief when she walks through the doors and finds a free table on the third floor, hidden behind some bookcases and overlooking the courtyard.

It isn’t long before she has three textbooks, two notebooks, and her laptop sprawled across the tabletop, scrolling through past cases she knows Professor Redwyne likes to cite. He is well known for his difficult exams- even for a law class- but she likes to think she has some kind of advantage over her classmates. She has had him before, though it was in undergrad, and thinks she has some idea of what he likes to test on. If she’s lucky, his exams won’t be too different from one another.

She isn’t sure how long she sits there for, comparing her notes with those in the text and lecture slides and reading court cases until her eyes feel as though they are about to bulge out of her skull, but it is long enough for her stomach to start to rumble. There’s a café across the courtyard and she considers getting up to stretch her legs and grab something to eat but the thought of losing her table ensures that she stays exactly where she is.

A coffee cup is placed in front of her while she’s contemplating, the chair opposite her screeching as it’s pulled back from the table. She pulls off her headphones, brows furrowed in confusion, only for her face to fall when she catches sight of Aemond Targaryen making himself comfortable across the table.

She sighs heavily. “What do you want, Targaryen?”

“Easy. The coffee is a peace offering.”

It isn’t that she hates Aemond, she just cannot stand him. They had been cursed to be in the same classes since the start of law school and she cannot remember a time where he didn’t have something to say. He treated class as if it were a competition and she was his greatest rival. He had a contrarian response for every question she answered and class discussions had turned into a ravenous debate between them more than once. If she was being completely honest, she thinks he’s a pompous, arrogant, know-it all with some weird vendetta against her. And perhaps she could forgive all that- this was law school and it was in near every student’s nature to be fiercely competitive- if not for the fact that he flaunted his familial wealth at near every opportunity. That combined with his insufferable personality had never done much to endear her to him.

Begrudgingly, she snatches the coffee and pulls it closer, reading the order label. How he knows her order, she has no idea, but she can admit he has always been uncomfortably observant. It wouldn’t take much effort to look over her shoulder in class and read her order when he was bored. If he ever got bored at all. She takes a hesitant sip before deeming it correct and setting it back down.

“What do you want?”

“A favour.”

Read the rest here

Taglist- @docmartinis @backyardfolklore

[barleyo]

Your requests are open... you've put the words "Corrupt Cop Daichi" in my brain... Imagine you're just like. Driving on the highway and you're not even speeding but somehow he knows what you look like so he pulls you over because you're a cutie patootie... Dubious consent follows... Daichi in a cop uniform... Reader bent over the backseat of the cop car, door open, fully visible from the road but not caring because CoP dAiChI? AHHhhhhHH? (Idek if this counts as corrupt but cop daichi is cop daichi you know)

It's 9:30 in the morning but it's never too early for Cop Daichi argargargargargarg

Mr. Officer.

Cop! Daichi Sawamura X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: CORRUPT COP DAICHI IS MY EVERYTHING!!! Ugh dirty nasty cops who abuse their power :3 I wanted to make him mean, but my sweet, sweet Daichi could never be mean to a pretty girl... he still gets crazy with power though!

Tags: power play/imbalance, alcohol mention, small age gap (18—23), dub-con, p in v, quickies, coercion n all that good stuff :3

Wordcount: 900-ish

God, you were lucky that you were pretty, because you certainly weren't smart or slick. Daichi knew college kids were stupid, always doing risky stuff for the hell of it, but really? You were too drunk to walk in a straight line, let alone to be behind the wheel of a vehicle. 

He couldn't help but feel the pang of interest he felt when he got a good look at you after pulling you over. With the way you were driving, he was certain you'd be a blind old lady, but no. Just a college cutie. Damn it, it was hard to be stern with those. 

"Ma'am, do you know why I pulled you over?" he asked, trite words second nature to him by now. 

If you googled the definition of the word "wasted," your face in that moment would be the illustration accompanying it. 

Your face was red and warmed, no doubt tinted by all the cheap liquor you threw back at whatever frat party you came from. Eyes lazy and half-lidded. Hiccups and inconsolable giggles.

"No," you said, drunken euphoria flooding through your system. "I'm sorry, Mr. Problem, is there an officer?"

"Jesus Christ."

Daichi pinched the bridge of his nose, not entirely sure what to do with you. On one hand, it was his job to take you into the station, take your name down, and rat on you to your parents. Maybe scare you straight with a few nights in a holding cell.

On the other, well, you were a sweet little thing. Drunk and stupid as you may have been, he didn't have the heart to haul you away like a criminal. Girls with pretty faces aren't meant for life behind bars, even if only for a couple of hours. 

"C'mon, let's get you out of here. Step out of the vehicle, please," he ordered weakly, still conflicted. 

You complied, of course, stepping out and stumbling, falling forward. He caught you, letting you hold onto his forearms during your spell of dizziness. 

You stayed in his arms, drunkenly fiddling with the walkie talkie strapped to his shirt while you prattled off whined and pleas.

"Am I in trouble?" you asked while running a hand over his arms. "You're not gonna be a 'cop' about this whole thing, are you?"

He held back a snort, peering down at you. He made no effort to get you off of him, in fact, he rather liked the way you were feeling up on him. His nightly patrol was getting a little boring, and he usually had to deal with violent, dumb-as-hell college guys who drove drunk.

Cute, touchy, drunk, dumb-as-hell college girls were the easier route by far.

"Kinda my job, hon," he replied, struggling to keep a stern tone. "How much did you have to drink tonight?"

"Nothing, I swear," you slurred, shaking your head at him in defense. "Totally sober! Promise!"

Bullshit.

"Yeah, right. 'Nothing' meaning every drink handed to you, I assume?"

"Okay, maybe, but I can drive fine!"

"You almost served into a tree earlier," he deadpanned, placing his hands on your shoulders with an unamused look. 

You giggled right in his face, pressing your warm face against his chest. 

"You're funny."

What the hell was he supposed to do with you now?!

Once he clicked his bodycam off, he knew he was going to give in. He was only a man, and men are weak. Something about you, how easily the situation was playing out— it was too tempting. It almost felt like a set-up, or maybe that was just his guilt and paranoia acting up.

He wasn't alone in this, his buddies in the force pulled sly shit like this all the time. No harm, no foul, right? You get off scot-free and he gets a little something in return. 

Everyone's happy. 

You definitely sounded happy, squeals and moans falling from your mouth while he bent you over the hood of your car. 

He knew he was wrong for this. He didn't care. It was dark out, chances of someone catching him low. Besides, it was hard to focus on anything other than the wet, warm hole clenching over him. 

"Lower your volume," he warned, pace unsteady and sharp. The hand he had wrapped over one of your thighs tightened its grip, warning you. "You want someone to see you like this?"

He could see the back of your head shake 'no,' and could hear your moans start to muffle themselves with a bite of your bottom lip. 

"Awh, didn't mean t'shut you up," his voice was softer, hand running over your hip apologetically. "Lemme hear you, jus' don't get too loud."

He was already sloppy with how he was fucking you, but when he heard the pathetic cry that you let out, his body was inconsolable. He wasn't in control anymore, he just let himself be led by pure lust. 

He pressed a shaking hand on your lower back, deepening your arch for him. He bullied your cervix's tip, acutely aware of how sensitive it was. This was far deeper than any guy had ever reached for you, way deeper. 

An intense flush of pleasure ran over you while you came. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the risk of it all, or maybe just the hot officer doing it to you, but your orgasm felt much stronger than you had felt any other time. The feeling of his cum landing on your ass and the sound of his deep groans were just the cherry on top of it all. 

[kateeorg]

Critical Role- Gods and Parents Parallels

One thing that pops up again and again in the Ruby Vanguard and Ludinus discourse about the gods is that the gods are angry because their children surpassed them. That the child must always surpass the parent, and that the gods not allowing that makes them unfair, against the natural order of things.

I see three issues with this, and they are all a little at odds with each other, so not sure which if any make the most sense.

The first is that the gods have already significantly stepped back from influencing Exandria, as a good parent should. In fact, much of the Ruby Vanguard, like Bor'dor and Lilliana, were radicalized because they felt abandoned, not because they felt the gods have overstepped. Same with a lot of Bells Hells - they have such vague feelings of the gods mostly because they have only felt them vaguely. The few times they've witnessed real overstep were when Ludinus forced their hand - the Dawnfather temple, what happened with Opal.

But most of the time, they don't usually force their will, don't demand obedience from those who choose not the believe, give vague hints. So in trying to give their children more free will, which those like Ludinus should see as a good thing, they come across as absent (a similar problem to the gods in the Percy Jackson series, where the parent issues are much more direct.) You're damned if you do, damned if you don't.

The second is that the rule that the child must "surpass" the parent only really works in a world where parents eventually age and die. But the gods... don't. And can't. Not naturally. Which is I suppose why Ludinus is so deadset on killing them.

But on top of that, even if one killed the gods and became top of the food chain, mortals still can't comprehend the infinite the way gods can. So in reality it's sort of impossible for mortals to surpass the gods except by becoming one, a process that we know is difficult and has a variety of complications. And even then, you don't actually surpass the gods - you just become one of them. You become what you despised, thinking you could do a better job, until you realize all the demands that position and responsibility brings. You could maybe do a better job, but in the process realize why it was so hard for your parents in the first place. Look at the Raven Queen. So either way, Ludinus's dream of mortals surpassing gods doesn't work.

Which leads to my third issue: Surpassing is not the point.

If we're really going to run with the parent-child parallels, the true sign of a child maturing is not them surpassing the parent - it's understanding them. It's seeing their flaws and forgiving them for it. To see them not as saviors or tyrants, but in their entirety as beings trying to do their best in imperfect circumstances. Doesn't mean you need to maintain a relationship with them as an adult if they really hurt you and continue to hurt you, but it allows you to better understand the past and forge a better future.

Now, the gods don't seem to think mortals CAN understand, and I think that is a flaw on their part. Mortals may not be able to understand the infinite, what it means to be responsible for and take care of entire domains of existence, to be so bound to your own rules you cannot break them. But mortals can, some more than others, understand trauma and family obligations and impossible choices. The Society of Primes may not have come about if the Primes made it more apparent what the Betrayers really are to them.

And this is where I hope Bells Hells can step in. Because they are among a select few living souls who have seen what happened in Aeor from the Primes' perspective. (4-Sided Dive mentions they did not witness what happened in Tengar and the epilogue, but everything else). And this group more than many can understand impossible choices and choosing one another, even when it could potentially hurt others.

If Bells Hells can prove to the gods that mortals are capable of appreciating them as flawed and respecting them anyway, that seeing their flaws even makes them love them more... perhaps that could lead to a healthier relationship between mortals and gods for all of Exandria. Not of tyrants nor of absence, but a happier medium.

EDIT: We in fact see this in Campaign 1, where Vax and Vex see the human faces of the Raven Queen and the Dawnfather - in the instances the gods have trusted mortals enough to show their human side, they have become more likable. But considering Aeor, it's easy to see why they don't trust easily.

(Of course this could go the totally opposite way and I could eat my words, but that's just where my head is at after Downfall. Imogen and Laudna in particular I think may become more fearful seeing what the gods do to threats to themselves and their domain. But we'll see).