#and feel bad if they get told their fic is ''worse'' than someone elses

[thevioletcaptain]

if you as a fic reader ever become possessed by the urge to do a popularity bracket with the fics other people wrote and shared for fun and for free, consider:

don't ❤️ 

[qatarsprint2023]

Hi can I request a lando x f!reader when she’s really sick and how lando takes care of her, like A. fluffy and comforting fic. I just found ur acc and I’m so excited for ur upcoming writings!!!!

~🎀

Thank you sm! Hope you enjoy this one, 🎀<3

Sick days and Race weekends— LN4

Lando discovers that his girlfriend got sick while he was away for a race and didn't want to worry him. — Lando Norris x f!reader, fluff, comfort, reader has a bad case of the flu, no use of y/n word count: ca. 1.2k

Ever since you were a kid you'd never been the type of person to get actually sick. Sure, a little cough and runny nose maybe, but nothing ever really drastic. Personally, you were pretty sure your immune system was simply a wonderful combination of good genes and growing up in the countryside.

Your parents had always told you that the fresh air and spending a lot of time outdoors with some exposure to animals had probably played some part in your never being sick as well and developed your immune system in a way people who grew up in urban areas would never have.

But when you moved to London for uni a little later in life, a huge city with tons of traffic, pollution and surprisingly little greenery, you found yourself getting sick more often than when you lived on your parent's farm surrounded by green grass, fields that stretched for miles and lots of animals. However this time you got sick. Runny nose, aching joints, pounding headache, hacking cough, fever that came and went as it pleased... The whole flu package, really.

You'd already started feeling a little off before Lando left for Austin on Wednesday and it had gradually gotten a little worse each day, but by Friday it all just hit like a wrecking ball. But you being you, decided not to say anything much about it and tell your boyfriend it was just a common cold you were dealing with back home.

He'd done so well in Qualifying on Friday and he should really be concentrating on his upcoming race and not his girlfriend's inane complaints from halfway across the globe. You didn't like worrying people. It didn't feel right plaguing someone else with your problems when surely you could somehow find a way to work it out yourself anyway.

But now it was Monday morning and you had curled up on the couch under the heaviest blanket you could find with a half empty tissue box and a giant mug of tea on the coffee table beside you a few hours ago already. You were cold and shivering like leaves in the wind on an icey autumn day like today, even with your hot drink and the warm blanket thrown across your body.

You couldn't have been more miserable. You felt like you were dying. You couldn't go to work, or leave the house because you simply felt awful and weak. So, you decided to just lay down on the couch and wait for Lando to get home.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of waiting for the familiar sound of a key turning in the lock, you perked up a little at the sound coming from the door across the room. Lando stepped inside and shut the door behind him with a soft sigh slipping past his lips, not noticing you.

"Hey... P2!" you croaked weakly and forced a small smile onto your lips when you saw your boyfriend step into your shared flat, suitcase in hand, his coat and shoes still on as well after he just made his way through Heathrow airport and probably (definitely) went through a mini heart attack too when his luggage didn't immediately come out with everything else from the flight, like he always does when you're flying somewhere.

He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he'd actually heard you call out to him. It was the last thing he expected to hear. Reasonable response, you had to concur— after all, you were supposed to be at work. Then he turned to face the couch and saw you laying there, basically drowning under the heavy fabric of your blanket.

"Hey, hey... What's wrong? Why aren't you at work?" he asked in a voice that showed obvious signs of worry as he quickly kicked his shoes off and went over to you, feeling your forehead with his cold palm. "Jesus. You're basically on fire, baby... I thought you just had a normal cough?!"

"Didn't wanna worry you," you chuckled with an innocent smile, but before you knew it, your chuckle turned into yet another harsh cough. According to your mum, you sounded like an elephant with tuberculosis, like she told you over the phone yesterday. Harsh but true comparison, you had to admit.

Lando groaned and shook his head in an exaggerated way. "Yeah but, you should worry me when you get a fever like this!" However his expression softened to one of sympathy as he sat down beside you on the edge of the beige couch, gently stroking your forehead in an attempt to make you feel more at ease.

"Why didn't you tell me you felt this bad when we talked yesterday?" he frowned, some of his soft curls falling onto his forehead.

"You just got P2 and you sounded so happy about that on the phone, so I didn't wanna dampen the mood," you respond with a shrug.

"The only thing you've got me feeling right now is worried, baby. Come on, you can hardly talk without having a coughing fit," he sighed, putting his arm around you and planting a kiss on the crown of your head. "Have you had anything to eat?"

"Not yet," you sniffled softly and shook your head, rubbing the bridge of your nose with your index finger and thumb. It felt like there was someone playing a damn drum solo against the inside of your skull. "Didn't have the energy to make myself anything more than tea. I feel like death..."

"I know, baby, I know..." Lando sighed softly and gently stroked your cheek with his thumb as he stood up and placed his hands on his hips, looking down at you. "I'll make you some toast, okay? But first let's get you to bed... The couch isn't comfortable enough for when my girl needs to rest. It'll give you a stiff neck, sweetheart."

Lando gently looped his arm around your waist and helped you get up from the couch, a soft groan escaping your throat. He held you upright as you slowly walked over to the bedroom where your boyfriend lied you down in bed and pulled the covers over your shivering body, enveloping you in a warm sea of soft bedsheets.

"Alright..." he said with a sympathetic gaze in his hazel eyes and fluffed up your pillow a little, so you could lay down more comfortably. "I'll make you something and I'll bring you your tea in a minute too. Oh and some of that cough syrup we have as well. I know you don't like it, but I don't like it when you sound like you're gonna cough up your lungs any second. Do you want me to make you some soup later too?"

"You can make soup?" you retorted raspily and covered your mouth as another cough slipped past your chapped lips.

"Well... no... But I can make soup from the can?" Lando suggested with a sheepish grin, which caused you to smile a bit as well. It was so nice to have someone who just wanted to help and make you feel better.

"That'd be nice, thank you..." you replied softly and smiled, though you quickly covered your mouth as he leaned down to kiss you. "No! I'll get you sick too!"

"Well, I sure as hell won't let you sleep alone tonight, so whether I kiss you now or have my arm around you for seven hours tonight doesn't really make a big difference, does it?" he chuckled and gently took your hand away from your face to press a chaste kiss against your pale lips.

"Stay with me afterwards?" you hummed softly, not yet pulling away from the tender sensation of his lips on yours and your hand in his.

"I'll stay as long as you want me to," said Lando in response and gently gave your hip a pat. "But first I'll get you something to eat and your tea from the living room, yeah?"

[flrlgreen]

mine (suguru getou x reader) + twt prn link

a/n: little getou drabble. i’ve had a bit of writer's block so i haven’t been as active but, i wanted to write something with getou and this is loosely based/connected to this fic i wrote on ao3 (that i’ll probably update soon). 

cw: EXTREME possessiveness, toxic behavior, unprotected sex, reader has a vagina, breeding, mentioned pregnancy, begging, teasing, crying, dirty talk, the name bad girl is used.

link

Apparently, you two didn’t know what ‘no contact’ meant. The same man that you had just told to leave you alone is in your room fucking his thick cock into you. Why? You went on a date with the lead singer of another popular band, Toji Fushiguro. And even worse he overheard your conversation with your girlfriends about how good of a lay Toji was. 

Tears begin to prick your eyes before a single fat tear falls down your cheek.  “You’re dripping so much Angel, was he fucking you this good?” He groaned in pleasure while his heavy balls hit your ass over and over. “Does he fuck your cute little pussy as good as I do? You’re creaming all over my dick, so I’m doing something right aren’t I?” His words were making you clench on his cock even more than you already were. “Answer me.” He demands when you whine instead of answering his question. His free hand presses down on your lower belly making your eyes tear up even more.

“Y-you fuck me so good Suguru.” That’s all you managed to get out, but your response didn’t satisfy him. “Bad girl, fucking someone else. You still belong to me, I don’t care if we are broken up.” He punctuates the end of each of his statements with a deep thrust. “Say you belong to me Baby.” He leans in and whispers in your ear. “Say this is my pussy.” He knows his words are getting to you because you could only manage to let out moans and high-pitched whines no matter how hard you tried to get any words out. 

“This is your-” You say a little too quietly for his taste. “Ah, I can’t hear you.” He teases. “This is your p-” “Louder Baby. Let them know who this pussy belongs to.” He wipes the single tear from your cheek and gives you that stupid ‘poor you’ tone that drives you mad. “This is your pussy Suguru! My pussy belongs to you!” You yell loud enough and you’re almost sure everyone in the apartment complex heard you. 

“That’s what I wanna hear. You don’t belong to that asshole and if you fuck him ever again I’ll have to show you who you truly belong to.” His thrusts are so fast you can’t even keep up. His thick cock dragged against your sensitive walls and was almost enough to make you cum all over his cock. “I want you to remember how good I fuck your little pussy whenever you even think about fucking anyone that isn’t me.” He pants and pulls out and shoves his entire cock back in all at once.

 “I’m gonna make you mine, so you can never leave me. You’re gonna have my baby.” He slammed his pelvis into you until your walls were forcibly stretched to accommodate his thick cock. “Gonna cum – Fuck, you’re gonna be so full of my cum. Gonna be so cute pregnant-” Before he could even finish his sentence he was spilling his warm seed in your cunt. “Fuck.” He groans and watches his cum spill from your hole when he pulls out. His body feels so heavy and he can’t help but bury his head in the crook of your neck, but not before giving you a peck on your cheek. “I still love you so much.”

[dollfacefantasy]

help okay i hope this isn't too soon but im back and i have a thirst. So basically ive been thinking about like di leon and where hes been gone on a mission for a week and when he finally comes home he has like paper work or like something on the computer and reader is just like sitting at his feet with her head in his lap while he works and she starts getting super impatient while hes on a work call and starts to act bratty and whine and stuff and then starts to suck him off and so when he hangs up he pulls her over his knee and punishes her and then they fuck. I was hoping you could put like daddy kink cuz you write it so good i love it and you can add whatever else you think fits. Hope this wasn't too much im sorry if it was.

heyyy :) so i have a fic with a kind of similar premise for leon and thirsts are usually just little blurbs to me, so i'm just gonna write part of this but thank you for the ask. i do love the idea of doing it while on the flip phone <3

leon kennedy x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, blowjob, daddy kink, sort of exhibitionism

The entire desk shakes as Leon's phone chimes with the notification that someone is trying to reach him. For such a small device, it sure had a lot of vibration power.

Normally, he'd just reach over and grab it. Flip open the small cellphone, scan the caller ID, and hold it to his ear with his obligatory "Kennedy speaking."

But right now, he hesitates. He hesitates because you're beneath his desk. You'd managed to tug his pants loose and worm your fingers around his length. Your hand strokes him slowly, moving up and down as you look up at him with those alluring eyes of yours.

He'd been away on a mission for a few weeks, and as expected, your ache for him had grown strong. It would be easy to just brush your hands off and send you away till he finished working at his desk, but he had missed you too. He found it sweet, your need to be attached to him after some time apart. The only thing worse than having to leave you for so long would watching those pretty eyes fill with the sting of rejection.

"Be good while daddy's on the phone," he says quietly, as if he already had the other person on the line, "If you get me in trouble, I promise you your ass is gonna get it tenfold."

You nod in a display of your obedience, as if he was a fool to question you at all.

With your small reassurance, he grabs his phone and whips it open. Chris Redfield. Ok, so at least there was a chance it wouldn't be something too serious.

"Hey, man," he says as he brings it to his ear.

From your place on the ground, you can hear the muffled sound of his friend's voice. It's of no concern to you though. You rest your cheek on his thigh while your eyes stay locked on his cock held between your digits. You stroke it up and down, watching the flushed appendage with adoration.

Above you, he mumbles "mhm's" and "oh yeah, for sure's.” You don’t pay much attention beyond those brief affirmations. All you can think is how bad you want it in your mouth. It just looks so good, and it's been too long since you've had it.

But you shouldn't, right? He told you to be good. But this would feel so good for both of you. It seems like a win-win from your perspective.

"Yeah, that's bullshit. I don't blame you I would've done the- fuck," Leon says, getting cut off by his own hissed expletive as your lips engulf the tip of his dick.

You hear a muffled response on the other end, but you don't look up to see your boyfriend's reaction. Instead, you work his shaft deeper into your mouth.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry. Got a cramp in my leg. I get 'em bad after assignments," he mutters.

His hand comes to rest on the back of your head, so clearly, he wasn't too displeased with what you were doing down there.

You brace yourself on his thighs, pads of your fingers digging into the meat of his legs. Rising and falling, your head bobs. You coat the flushed skin with your saliva, letting it dribble from your mouth down to his balls.

His teeth dig into his bottom lip as he wrestles with the desire to moan. Poor Chris on the other side of this call. Not a word he said was taking root in Leon's brain. The short responses were even more half-hearted than before.

"I'm listening. Sorry, I was just... preoccupied when you called, y'know?" you hear him mumble.

You swirl your tongue over the ridge and pull off to lap at more of him. Your hand strokes what your mouth can't cover. You know all his favorite tricks, and you're putting each one to use right now.

Leon runs a hand through his hair, a bit of sweat beginning to break out across his forehead. His eyes flutter, and he closes them as if that would make it easier to stave off the impending explosion of ecstasy. A soft grunt comes from him, one he's hoping isn't loud enough to raise suspicion.

"What? Yeah, she's home right now... I don't know where she is. She's... doing something around here," he responds to Chris asking about you.

A laugh rumbles through the phone. Chris says something along the lines of "you're something else."

"What?" Leon defends, "I swear I'm listening I just-"

He has to stop talking then and there. If he kept going, his words would've morphed into one of the most humiliating whines heard by him, you, and Chris. He couldn't have that. When he recovers, his next words come rushing out.

"I just gotta call you back. Give me about an hour," he says, not waiting for a reply before clapping the phone shut.

His hips buck upwards, and both of his hands land on your head, making you take all of it. You gag a little, but he doesn't lighten up.

"No, no, baby. You wanted daddy so bad. You're gonna take all of me now. No whining," he chides through a clenched jaw.

Your eyes water. You tough it out though and let him fuck your throat till you feel that familiar pulse on your tongue. He lets go down your throat, spilling himself into the warmth of your mouth with a groan. His body slumps into the chair as he rides it out. Only when he's done does he finally let you go.

You pull back and recede onto your haunches, catching your breath. As air refills your lungs, things seem clearer. The moment of relief only lasts a short while though. Seconds later your being pulled up and slung across his lap.

A pout graces your lips as you look up at him.

"Ah ah. Don't look at me like that. What'd I tell you?" he says, already rubbing your ass in preparation for the spanking you're about to get.

"But you didn't get in trouble!" you protest.

"You didn't know that when you pulled that stunt though, so you still are," he teases before landing a firm swat on your ass.

The first of many to come.

[nightlyrequiem]

hello sweetheart! have you ever thought about writing valeria x fem!reader who is prone to crying? this idea suddenly came to me after spending a lot of time in my day reading and re-reading your valeria x reader fanfics. i don’t know if you still take requests, but if not, consider this a writing idea for the future X3

(btw, i love you and your works so so muchhhhhh! your tumblr is clearly a paradise for valeria garza fangirls 😭💕💕💕)

Sweetheart? Oh my, I'm swooning!

I love it when people say they re-read my fics, makes me feel all warm inside. Yes stranger on the internet! Fuel my ego! Give me that instant dopamine hit! As someone who cries a lot, I needed to write this

I love you too, anonymous asker! Doing my civic duty of providing Valeria content

(Name has nothing to do with the fictional creatures.)

Tags/Warnings: WLW, Emotional Hurt, Comfort (Kind Of.), Valeria is Mean but regrets it, Sensitive reader

Weeping Angel

You're crying again. Valeria had returned home later than usual and when you asked about it, her tone was slightly different. Not as soft as usual. It doesn't take much to make you cry. Saltine tears swiftly well up in your eyes as you fall silent. Valeria feels frustrated. She is someone who rarely cries, who is used to being around stronger people. She still isn't sure how to handle you and your endless fountain of tears.

You turn your head and wipe at your eyes with your sleeve. Valeria sighs and rubs her face, trying to reel in her temper. She has to remind herself that you're more delicate than she is. You aren't trying to manipulate her with crocodile tears, you're just truly, very sensitive. She both hates and loves that about you.

"Look, I told you I have a lot to do." She says, attempting to soften her voice but even she can hear the irritation seeping through her words. Valeria just doesn't understand how a grown adult is unable to regulate their feelings.

"...Okay." You reply passively, voice thick with sadness.

Valeria wishes you were stronger.

"Stop crying." She says sternly. "I hate it when you do that. I didn't even do anything, why are you trying to make me feel bad?" Valeria knows that's not what you're trying to do, and she knows she's only making things worse. You look at her with wide, wet eyes.

"Why are you yelling at me?"

"Why do you take everything so personally? I'm not yelling." she grits out.

Your lips twitch down into a frown. It would be almost comical if she didn't have to deal with you and your dramatic tears.

"God. I can't deal with this." She continues. Venting all her frustrations that have been slowly growing like a malignant tumor. "I don't think you understand how hard it is to deal with you. I can't say anything without offending you." You just stand there and take it. Tears running rivers down your cheeks. "It's like walking on eggshells around you. It's exhausting."

"Don't talk to me like that." You say. frowning at her.

"'Don't talk to me like that'?" Valeria growls, getting up in your face. Out of the corner of her eye she can see your hands shaking. She knows confrontation isn't your strong suit. "You're allowed to whine and bitch but the second I do it I'm the bad guy?"

You struggle to find the words to respond and for the first time, Valeria feels a small tingle of guilt. Not enough to stop though, Valeria has never found it easy to back down. She's just so tired of your tears. Of always having to console you. You can barely function. You spill a drink and cry, if you don't succeed at something right away, you cry. The stray dogs on the street make you cry.

"Just get out of my face, okay? Go be somewhere else because I can't stand you right now." Valeria says dismissively. Turning her back to you.

She hears your hiccupping breathes disappear down the hall. She leans against the counter and puts her head in her hands. She doesn't like fighting with you, and she doesn't like making you cry, but it's practically inevitable with how volatile the both of you are. You always bring down the mood, Valeria can never truly relax around you because she's always expecting something to set you off. Sometimes she feels more like your therapist than your girlfriend.

As hours pass by, her anger cools into quiet sadness. Valeria is less upset by your crying then she is by the fact that she can't ever seem to help. She can't ever find the right words to comfort you. Valeria is frustrated with herself because she doesn't understand. Valeria has never cried over a spilled drink, or a single off-handed joke at her expense, or when she failed at something.

What she does understand, is that she loves you. Valeria sighs and stands from the couch. Heading to the bedroom. she gently opens the door, seeing you curled up in bed. Your side slowly rising and falling with each breath. She sits down next to you. Looking over your tear-stained face. Your eyes are closed, having worn yourself out with your crying. Valeria isn't good at apologies, but she reaches out a hand and pets your hair. Smoothing her fingers over the strands. You're not awake to hear the awkward, murmured apology falling from her lips. You cry over everything, but Valeria doesn't want to be among the reasons. She may not understand you, but she doesn't need to. She just needs to be there for you.

[roosterforme]

You and Me and She Makes Three | Hangman x Reader x Reader's Friend

Summary: Jake had feelings for you. And that was a problem, because he didn't do relationships. He was going to have to choose his independence over being with you. At least that's what he thought until he was presented with the opportunity to enjoy you and his freedom at the same time. 

Warnings: Smut, threesome, fluff, 18+

Length: 4100 words

Threesome: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader x Reader's Female Friend

I wrote this fic for the smutty threesomeissance hosted by @sushiwriterhere

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!?

"Come on, man. You've been in a bad mood all day," Coyote said, removing his helmet and shaking his head at Jake. "What's your problem?"

Jake removed his helmet as well and headed for the locker room with his friend right on his heels. "Nothing," he mumbled, running a hand through his sweaty hair. But he knew Coyote wouldn't let him off the hook that easily. 

It was Thursday. Everyone would be at the Hard Deck tonight. And you were his problem. But he had no idea what to do about the way you were making him feel. 

"Is it your girl?" Coyote asked as they walked into the locker room, and Jake closed his eyes as he thought about you.

There was no denying that you and Jake had gotten close over the past two months. He'd stopped taking other girls home from the bar after he met you. He stopped talking to other girls at the bar altogether. The occasional sleepovers were something he was enjoying. Waking up in bed with you meant he was about to have a great day. Last week he had even somehow accidentally told you he liked you.

"She's not my girl," Jake drawled, stripping out of his flight suit. You were getting a little too comfortable with him, and he was getting a little too clingy with you. He never did this. He didn't date. Hookups and 'keeping things casual' were what he was all about. And he intended to keep it that way. "She's definitely not my girl. I'm not into that. I do whatever I want, whenever I want to, and that includes who I'm sleeping with."

"Who else has there been?" Coyote asked with a smug smile as Jake moved things around noisily in his locker without responding. Then Coyote snorted. "You know, there are worse things than catching feelings for someone."

Jake thought his friend was wrong about that. He was going to end things with you tonight. Call it quits on whatever was happening, and then he would go home with someone else. Because there was really no way he could have you all to himself and enjoy the freedom he wanted at the same time.

"Jake!" you called out, running toward him when you got to the bar that evening. God, you were gorgeous, all bouncing tits and sunny smiles as you shoved through the crowd to get to him in that tiny little dress he loved taking off of you.

"Hey," he replied as casually as he could, but you took his breath away. And then you wound your arms around his neck and kissed him like you already knew he was going to respond with a kiss of his own. You shouldn't be doing this. He shouldn't be responding with his hands on your hips. Why couldn't he stop himself?

Other women. He forced himself to think about other women. All of the brunettes, redheads and blondes for him to explore. Freedom. He forced himself to think about his freedom. There was a whole world of having nobody to answer to but himself, and that was the world he wanted to live in.

But your lips were on his neck, and your palm was pressed to his chest, and he was already thinking about how good your pussy felt. "Fuck," he groaned, cupping your cheek with his palm and coaxing your lips back up to his. He wanted you. "Let's get out of here," he grunted, already embarrassed about what Coyote was going to say. But you were shaking your head now, looking a little apprehensive. 

"Jake, there's something I wanted to talk to you about." Your gaze dipped down from his eyes to his neck, and you chewed on your plump lip nervously. 

Wait. Were you about to dump him?

Before he could say anything, you whispered, "Do you remember my friend Maya? She met me here last week before you and I went back to your place?"

Of course Jake remembered Maya. She was almost as hot as you were. If you and Jake hadn't already been all over each other, he would have considered hitting on her. "Yeah, I remember her."

Jake watched your tongue dart out to slowly wet your lips before you said, "How would you feel about her joining us?"

He sighed deeply. He should have already done the cut and run like he was planning, because now he was going to have not only you but also your friend clinging to him all night. "Sure," he mumbled, but you were shaking your head again.

"Not here at the bar... back at your place."

The words were so unexpected, it took a moment for Jake to absorb them. Then he saw Maya weaving her way through the crowded bar, her gaze sheepishly meeting his as you asked, "Well? What do you think, Jake?"

"To be clear," he drawled slowly, his eyes taking in Maya's cute body before looking at you, "you're asking about her joining us in bed?"

You moaned softly and nodded, pressing your tits against his side. "Yes."

This entire scenario was in no way anything close to what he was anticipating for this evening. However... 

"Hi," Maya said, tucking her hair behind her ear and looking at Jake before you hugged her. The two of you were giggling softly, and Jake's imagination was running wild. Oh, the possibilities. His cock throbbed in his jeans, absolutely demanding he take full advantage of this situation. He could have you, and he could have a taste of someone else, too. 

He watched your lips skim softly along Maya's before you turned and looked at him over your shoulder. "Jake?" you asked, eyes wide, hoping for an answer this time.

"Yes."

You grinned at him and reached for his hand, pulling him a little closer to where you were standing chest to chest with Maya in the overcrowded, stiflingly hot bar. You started kissing him right when he was about to ask if the three of you were staying for a drink first. Your lips were so sure, like you knew what he wanted. 

When you released him, Maya quietly said to Jake, "I know you guys are kind of together, and I promise I won't get in the way of that. But when I told her that my ex boyfriend never got me off, she told me that you always make sure she comes. She said you're a gentleman like that."

You ran your fingers up Jake's neck and into his hair. "Such a gentleman." 

"Fuck," he growled, kissing you a little rough as he let his hand slip around Maya's waist, pulling her closer to him. Your tongue was in his mouth, and he was already getting hard. Suddenly he didn't give a fuck who saw the three of you together, but he honestly wanted to get both of you alone as quickly as possible. In his bed. Where he could show you both that he was such a gentleman... until he wasn't. "Let's skip the drinks tonight?" 

"Okay," you sighed against his lips before leaning across him to kiss Maya again. The fact that you weren't too tentative had Jake wondering just exactly how familiar with each other the two of you were. He was going to find out. 

"Come on," he growled, tugging you toward the exit. You were hand in hand with Maya, and she followed along until the cool night air in the quiet parking lot hit Jake's sweaty brow. 

He was completely sober, watching you kiss your friend again before you told her, "It's okay. Try it."

And then Maya's lips were on his, and she wasn't shy at all. The exhilaration of that first kiss with someone new was amped up tenfold as he ran one hand down low on her back and grabbed you by the ass with the other. 

After a moment of enjoying Maya's lips, you rubbed your hand along the front of his jeans and whispered, "Let's go back to your place."

That was a great idea, except that Jake had a two seater sports car. But as he watched both of you climb into the front seat together, hands and mouths all over each other, he decided to just go with it. "Hang on tight, ladies," he said with a smirk as he started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. 

Occasionally one of your hands made its way across the gear shift and into his lap as he drove. And when Jake joined you in a threeway kiss at a stoplight, the car behind him had to honk three times to get him moving when the light turned green. His car was filled with soft giggles and sighs as he navigated to his little beachfront rental as quickly as he could. 

He was out of the car in a flash, and when he opened the passenger side door, you were straddling your friend's lap and kind of rolling your hips. Jake watched for a moment until you looked up at him with a filthy grin. "You better take care of both of us," you whispered as Maya ran her hand along your thigh. 

Jake scooped you up out of the car and pulled Maya out by her hand. You kissed along his neck and wrapped your legs around his waist, and Jake acknowledged that he loved the way you felt in his arms. He loved the way Maya's hand felt wrapped around his bicep as well as he kissed her lips. He handed her his house key and said, "Be an angel and unlock the door." Then he had you pressed up against his house right next to the doorknob as he fucked your mouth with his tongue.

His hands were wrapped around your thighs, and he could feel your damp panties when he stroked you with one long finger. "Jake," you moaned into his mouth, and Maya reached for his arm again as she opened the front door. 

When he set you down inside, he whispered, "Show Maya where my bedroom is." He closed and locked the door as you and she headed upstairs holding hands. 

When he walked into his bedroom and turned on his desk lamp, Jake took a moment to just enjoy the sight before him. You were unzipping her denim shorts and letting them fall to the floor, and then Maya carefully pulled your dress over your head.

"That's usually my job," he muttered, mouth watering when your bare tits came into view. When your dress hit his bedroom floor, you reached for him.

"Jake," you sighed when his hands cupped your perfect breasts, thumbs stroking your nipples to hard peaks. He watched intently as Maya pulled her own top off, a bashful little smile on her face. When she made eye contact with Jake, he tipped his chin up, and she was instantly removing her bra for him. 

He was in heaven. Two different women. Two bodies to explore. "My angels," he muttered, removing one hand from your warm skin and stroking the valley between Maya's breasts. When her head tipped back he leaned in to kiss her neck, and soon she was moaning with her hands in his hair. 

"Make her feel good," you whispered, quickly removing Jake's shirt before he returned to Maya's lips and breasts. And next thing he knew, you were on your knees between their bodies, unzipping his pants and sucking on his cock. 

Jake throbbed for you as you took him deep, and he kissed down Maya's chest to her nipple. He tasted her and sucked her between his lips, and when she started whining, he gave her his fingers to suck on. Her curvy body against his palm plus the feeling of soft suction around his cock and his fingers had him bucking into your mouth. 

"You're a good girl," he told you where you had your lips wrapped around his balls now. He was rewarded with your tongue working in firm circles. "Panties off," he commanded, before pulling his fingers free from Maya's mouth and kissing her there softly. "Both of you."

"Okay, Jake," you whispered, standing and shimmying out of your tiny underwear. Maya did so as well, looking at him the whole time. 

"What are you gonna do?" she asked quietly, and Jake ran his fingers along her bare slit and through her close cropped curls. She kept her eyes on his as he reached for your body as well. Two soaking wet pussies, just for him. He thumbed your clit and stroked down to Maya's opening until you were both gasping.

"I'm gonna make you both feel so good." 

As he worked his hands, he had you clinging to one side of him, grinding against his palm, and he had Maya on the other side, gasping and nearly sobbing as he teased her opening. While he already knew how to get you off, now he had a pretty good idea of what would work for your friend, too. 

Jake brought his lips down to Maya's in a soft kiss. "You like that, angel?" He was rewarded with vigorous nodding before she pressed her lips to his. "I want both of you to get on the bed next to each other. On your backs."

You had a big smile on your face as you took her by the hand, and Maya followed your lead. As you got yourself into position with your feet planted at the foot of the bed, you slid yourself all the way to the edge. Jake stripped out of his jeans and underwear as Maya settled down next to you with her thighs pressed together. 

"You don't have to be shy," he told her, gently easing her legs apart until he was looking down at two perfect pussies on display on his bed. "I like what I see. And I want to taste you."

Maya whimpered, her leg and hip pressed up against yours as you reached for her chin. Jake watched as you gently turned her face toward yours and kissed her lips. The way you let your hand trail softly down her chest, circling her nipples and pinching her until she spread her legs open wider made his cock throb. But he wasn't going to fuck either one of you until you both came for him.

So he sank to his knees and pressed his nose to your clit, enjoying the familiar taste and smell of you as he ran one big hand down along Maya's inner thigh. "Oh, god!" you gasped, rolling your hips up to meet his mouth as you made out with Maya. And then Jake stroked his fingers along her wet slit and ass. 

He knew the sounds you made so well that he could pick out when Maya liked something by how loud she got, too. When he left a trail of kisses down your slit before filling you with two thick fingers, he moved his slick lips to give Maya a taste. Delicious. He worked his tongue around and inside her opening until she was tugging on his hair.

"Jake!" she gasped when he slipped his left middle finger inside her. 

"I told you he'd be good," you said with a giggle, and Jake fucked you a little harder with his right hand until you started to moan unintelligibly. 

After another minute, Maya was close and you were close. His hands were close to cramping as he stroked your clit and stretched her with a second digit. But he focused his attention on eating her pussy until she was squeezing her thighs around his head and arching off the bed. 

And then Maya came on his face with a little gush and some tears in her eyes. As her legs loosened around him, he patted her pussy softly with his fingertips, wanting to keep her ready for his cock while he got you off. 

He smiled up at you where you were stroking Maya's heaving chest. "I already know what you like, angel." And then he wiped that smug grin off your face with his lips and tongue so rough on your clit that you were soon screaming for him. Jake jumped to his feet and thrust his cock inside you to the hilt, fucking you hard as you came around him, legs shaking. That was just how he liked you; a mess beneath him. But this time you had Maya's hands on your tits as she kissed you and slid over to straddle your waist. 

"Perfect," Jake grunted, taking Maya by the hips as she kissed your lips through your orgasm. He eased her ass higher into the air until he was stroking her while he continued to fuck you. When he bent a little bit, his lips met her round rear end, and he ran his tongue everywhere. 

Her muffled little grunts got louder against your mouth as Jake reached around to stroke her clit, and then he withdrew his cock from your perfect warmth and ran his length through Maya's soaking cunt before pushing his tip against her opening. She was every bit as tight and inviting as you were, and Jake couldn't believe you were letting him have this night. He fucked Maya nice and slow as she keened and got used to his size. 

"How are my angels doing?" he asked, pressing a kiss to the curve of Maya's back. She rocked back on his cock, and he groaned.

"So good, Jake," you whined, and he looked down to see you taking your friend's nipple between your lips. 

Maya's pussy clenched around him, and he hissed. "Harder," she whispered softly, and Jake squeezed her ass with one big hand. 

"A little louder, angel," he drawled next to her ear. 

"Harder!" she shouted, and she was suddenly being manhandled. Jake fucked her so hard, she had to brace herself so she didn't knock into your face. He shoved two fingers inside your pussy as he rocked into Maya until she came a second time, gripping him nice and tighe before he replaced his fingers inside you with his cock once more. 

Maya stood up on her knees as she whimpered and looked at him over her shoulder. Her eyes were wide, and her lips were parted, and Jake kissed her as he fucked you beneath her. He wrapped one hand around your hip to hold you still as you started to writhe for him, and he stroked Maya's tits with the other. 

"Did I make you feel good?" he asked, squeezing her breast. 

"Yes," she replied softly, leaning into him as he kissed her shoulder. 

"Do you want to watch me make her feel good?"

Maya nodded and scrambled to the side of your body, and she watched intently as Jake leaned down to kiss your lips. He wanted to tell you all the ways he was sorry he even thought about breaking things off with you, but your fingers trailed through his hair as you cooed his name. You looked a little wrung out, a pleased smile teasing your lips as you rolled your hips into his thrusts. 

"Will you let me make you cum again?" he asked, licking the sheen of sweat along your neck. 

"Yes," you whispered, and Jake took Maya's hand in his. He guided her fingers down to stroke your clit as he fucked you, alternating kisses to your soft, swollen lips and hers. Then he stood tall and gripped your thighs as his body met yours with bed shaking thrusts that left you squealing. You came hard with his cock inside you and Maya touching your pussy and your tits. 

Jake was close now, gritting his teeth as he was met with two sets of wide eyes. "On your knees," he growled, pulling himself out of you and pointing to the floor. He stroked himself, gliding over his palm, lubricated with your slick juices and Maya's. And then both of you were in front of him, lips parted and tongues ready to receive him. With a few quick snaps of his wrist Jake was painting up your face and then hers with ribbons of his white cum.

The way you looked up at him, silently begging for more had him shoving his cock into your welcome mouth once again. You cleaned him off, swallowing down his cum before you kissed Maya's white coated lips and said, "I told you he was a gentleman." 

Then you ran your tongue through the mess on her cheek as Jake's cum dripped down your neck to your nipple. He watched as both of you kissed leisurely, not sure if you were actually cleaning each other up or just spreading the mess around. When he joined in, tasting himself on your salty skin and then Maya's, he pulled you both closer to him. 

"Thanks for including me," Maya whispered next to Jake's ear, and he squeezed her hip before she stood and started to collect her clothes. 

Jake sat on the floor and pulled you close so you were straddling his thigh, and he told you, "Thanks for tonight." You ran your fingers along his abs as he kissed you while Maya got dressed. "Hold tight, angel," he whispered, patting your ass as he reached for his phone in the pocket of his discarded jeans. He opened his rideshare app and got a car to take Maya home, and then it was just the two of you in his house.

"I guess I should get going, too," you said, starting to remove yourself from Jake's lap. "You have work in the morning."

"Stay," he insisted immediately. "Spend the night with me."

"You sure?"

"Yes," he grunted, taking your chin in his palm and kissing you softly. A minute later, you were straddling him in bed, and his cock was hard again. As he coaxed your lips closer to his, he whispered, "I want to cum inside your pussy this time."

You bit your lip, your face hovering just above his. "You could have cum in Maya's pussy, you know. And you can cum inside me whenever you want to, Jake. Just say the word."

He reached down to line his cock up with you, gently pressing up until he was fully sheathed. Your eyes fluttered closed, and your lips parted, and Jake just had to know for sure. 

"Was tonight a one off? Or would you want to do this again?"

"Mmm," you hummed, riding him a lot slower than earlier, and Jake could feel every squeeze and stroke of your tight pussy as you arched your back. "I loved it. And I'd love to do it again. Maybe with Maya. Maybe with someone else. If you want to."

Jake groaned, peppering your face in kisses, tasting his drying cum on your cheek. "Yes, angel. Yes, please. I'll take such good care of you all the time. And you can share me whenever you want, okay? Please."

"Yes," you agreed, and Jake made sure you could tell just how happy he was. 

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

The following weekend at the Hard Deck, Jake greeted you with open arms as soon as you arrived. He had seen you almost every evening for the past week, spent almost every night in bed with you. He even took you to see a movie and out to dinner. He was happy. 

You ran your nose along his jaw and kissed him. "You want another scotch?"

"Sure thing, angel," he murmured, and then he watched you saunter up to the bar after you gave his bicep a little squeeze.

"I thought she wasn't your girl." 

Jake looked away from your ass and into the eyes of his best friend. "She wasn't," he told Javy with a smirk.

"But she is now?" he asked, leaning against the pool table.

"She is now," Jake confirmed. You were everything he wanted. He was falling in love with you. He got to enjoy a relationship without giving anything up, because you also offered him the taste of freedom he was accustomed to. 

"What changed?" Javy asked him, but Jake was distracted. You were heading back their way with drinks in your hands, chatting with a cute little blonde that you must have found for him at the bar. 

"She offered up an arrangement that really, really works for me," Jake said grinning at you as you smirked at him. "Now, if you'll excuse us..."

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

I thought I would switch things up and let Jake have two girls all to himself (over and over again). He's kind of an asshole, but we still love him so much. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[starguardianniom]

Harumasa's health after his agent story

Let's be real here, his master's cure definitely changed things for him.

Probably in both a good and bad way.

Good because it literally saved his life and most likely bought him time so he might actually see past 26, though that's my headcanon since the game makes it clears that even the doctors have no ideas either.

Bad because well, it definitely most likely changes Harumasa's habits and gives him probably even more fear and anxiety to worry about.

Hear me out.

Harumasa is used to taking a lot of pills and most likely knows the patterns to his illness by now.

But with this cure he injected into himself?

It probably will change a lot of things for him.

I mean, for starters, if it controls his illness well, does that means he needs to have some changes in his prescriptions? Will he have new symptoms or something?

I can imagine Harumasa freaked the hell out when he awoke in the hospital after dealing with Kirishima and wondered what the heck was going on and how was he still alive because he was pretty sure he was a goner.

And then when his doctors told him he got better on his own he probably had a little mental breakdown because no way that happened and the doctors must have found a miracle treatment or something because his illness was really killing him there and with his master's "drug" he definitely thought of himself as a dead man.

Later, when finally getting through his head that he is really alive and well, he starts freaking out more because for once he doesn't hurt anywhere and it's probably the healthiest he's ever been and given he was on death's door he can't help but be extremely paranoid about his being alive and well and is scared to hell and back about what it means. Like did his illness mutate when he injected himself the drug? Is it just the calm before the storm? Is he about to get much worse? Could he suddently have worse symptoms than before? I imagine him being afraid of suddently having a seizure just like that because of the drug.

Also I see him not being in the best mental state when he wakes up because he just had about the most stressful week of his life, pursuing his master only to find out he turned into an ethereal right before he could find him which also means his years of searching for him for answers amounts to have been for nothing and losing the only person he could consider family after his parents abandoned him, having to fight him to the death while his illness was acting up badly, dealing with Kirishima, trying to save the kids, trying to get the drug before Kirishima, and then sacrificing himself so no one else would suffer like he did and to stop Kirishima for good, and then miraculously surviving and being healthier than he can remember most likely. His survival is something that happens in movies, not to him and not in real life, but the facts are there and he can't refute them so he does lose his mind a bit about it before he finally calms down.

So I headcanon that the first couple of days he stayed in the hospital and the others he stayed at home to get time to process everything before going back to work to be warmly welcomed back by his teammates and the proxy.

I bet he had a long talk about his doctor about how to proceed forward since his miraculous brush with death, like should they change his prescription, should he takes more or less pills, should he probably retire, should he takes a long vacation, and probably wanted to be tested for everything thrice just to be sure that there would be no surprises.

You're not gonna make me believe he was just fine after almost dying, he probably really was scared out of his mind afterwhat and only pulled through after much reassurances from the doctors that he was doing fine for now and that he could relax.

I mean, in his place I would be scared beyond belief as well, given the situation.

I should probably try to make a fic about it, unless someone else wants to do it, feel free to ask if you want it I'll happily let you have it first come first served.

[wttcsms]

time, mystical time (cuttin' me open, then healin' me fine) ; simon "ghost" riley.

pairing simon "ghost" riley x f!reader  word count 3.3k  synopsis snapshots of the defining moments in ghost's life. content contains slight angst, mild descriptions of alcohol abuse (ghost's father) + domestic abuse (non-explicit desc., but the act itself is mentioned various times), a bit of tiny look into my take on ghost's background, nsfw content, slight size kink, breeding kink, creampie, domestic fluff, pregnant!reader in some scenes, children (dad!ghost) author's notes takes place in this au & honestly is a lot more enjoyable of a read if you read that fic (+ the other connected one shots [go on my masterlist]). fun fact: simon is referred to as simon in the scenes with only you and his family. he's ghost anywhere else.

His mother had always told him that as a baby, he was always rather quiet. Scared her half to death, she would say, ‘cause he’d rarely ever cry. Even the doctor got worried when he first came out. 

Looking back at his childhood — perhaps the lack thereof — Simon assumes it’s probably instinctual. With a deadbeat drunk of a father armed with a heavy hand, being quiet probably saved Simon’s life more times than he wants to admit. He’d be knocked upside the head for the littlest of reasons, shouted at for even less. 

I’m the man of the house. 

His father’s slurred justifications for doling out unfair punishments ring through the dark halls of his childhood home. Simon hears it while he cowers inside his closet. His room is dark because his father doesn’t believe in nightlights, and mum got slapped hard for daring to go against his wishes and trying to sneak Simon one. She thinks he didn’t see it, but Simon sees a lot more than he should. Since then, he’s been sleeping in the dark. It’s not so scary anymore. 

There are scarier things that lurk in the light, anyway. 

It’s stuffy in the closet, and he knows it’s stupid to hide here because dad will find him any second now. The punishment is bad when he gets to drinking, and it gets worse whenever Simon tries to hide. 

A loud thump against his door makes Simon hold his breath. Then, the door bangs open from the weight.

Kicking doors open comes second nature to Lieutenant Riley. 

The loud crash of the door popping from the rusty hinges shocks the poor girls previously trapped behind them. All of them stay huddled together, staring fearfully at the loud, big men toting even louder, bigger guns. The hollowed cheeks, hopeless eyes, and array of bruises on their skin makes him sick. It’s a hot summer’s day, and Simon hates that after all this time, his observation from his childhood still stands true:

There are scarier things that lurk in the light, anyway. 

A bit hypocritical, he supposes. After all, he walks around in broad daylight, and he’s certainly no saint.

With the help of the rest of his extraction team, Ghost makes quick work of herding all the girls out of this depressing underground prison and out into a free world. He’s careful to be gentle with his touches, nothing more than a gentle guiding hand. Even with his gloves, he can’t be certain he’s not tainting them. Sins don’t wash away as easily as blood does. 

He’s the last one to leave, but he doesn’t exit alone. 

For a while, he felt a tight grip on his arm. Someone’s been clinging onto him this whole time, and with everything that’s happened, he can’t find it in his heart to shake them off. With no other distractions present, he finally turns to see who’s gotten so attached to him.

This is it. 

This is the moment where Simon Riley claims his life begins.

It’s such a juvenile feeling, he thinks. Waiting for his phone to ring, wondering why you haven’t texted or called. It’s so silly. So what he saved your life? It’s not like you owe him anything. It’s his job. He had a duty. Nothing more, nothing less.

Besides, he’s an asshole. Not the type of asshole who thinks he’s entitled to your company since he rescued you, but the type where Soap and the rest of the team aren’t too surprised he doesn’t have anyone to come home to. 

He can’t sleep. 

It’s been weeks since he gave you that burner phone. Surely you would have called, even sent a simple “hello”, if you really wanted to. He knows there’s not much to do in that facility. He knows that you haven’t been sleeping well. He knows that he should go to sleep; he’s got an early flight to catch in an active warzone, and there’s no way in hell he’s gonna get any semblance of rest as a result. 

Instead of sleeping, he’s grabbing his own burner phone off the nightstand and staring at the screen. It’s a simple enough task, really. He can just head straight to his contacts list and click the only one that’s there. Isn’t it traditional for the guy to call first, anyway? Or is he just fooling himself into thinking that you’re waiting for him to make the first move? Do you want him to make the first move? 

He’s never experienced this before. This newfound, boyish anxiety. The equal mixture of both hopelessness and hope churning in his stomach every time he sees you; do you think of him as much as he thinks of you? The question is then followed by a decisive no. He hasn’t survived this long because of blind optimism, so there’s no point in indulging in it now. 

Will you come back then? 

You looked up at him while asking this question, and you looked like an angel unfairly punished to walk alongside man. He wanted to spend the rest of his life constructing a stairway to heaven that you could use to make it back to your rightful home. When you look that beautiful and then proceed to ask him a question, what else was he supposed to say besides,

Whenever you want me to. 

Perhaps God truly is as merciful as he is all-seeing, because after a minute of contemplation and staring longingly at your contact, his phone screen lights up with the notification he’s prayed for (the only thing he’s ever prayed for, really). 

You’re calling him. 

And true to his word, he’s on his way. 

He’s never said I love you before, and as a result, he’s too scared to make his first attempt to do so, even though you just told him those three words yourself.

(He might tower over you, but looks can be deceiving. Simon thinks you’re much stronger and braver than him, in all the ways that matter.)

I love you.

He resists the urge to beg you to say it again and again and again, on repeat for the rest of your lives. 

He doesn’t say it back immediately, but he does let you take off his mask for the first time.

He doesn’t realize that the wide-eyed, awestruck, soft gleam in your eyes as you take him in, fully, for the first time is the same starry-eyed look he gets whenever he looks at you. He has a feeling you���re well aware of it, but now he finds the courage to confirm it.

“I love you.” 

And with a smile that could bring him back to life, all you have to say is, “I know.”

His mask is in your hands, after all.

“You never quite outgrow it, do ya?” Tommy’s got his hands in his pockets, but Simon can still picture the wedding band on his younger brother’s finger. He had been happy when Tommy tied the knot with Beth, if not a bit jealous. 

Now, though, Simon’s got his own wedding band. It’s tucked underneath his uniform, hanging from the same chain his dog tags are. It rests against his chest, in a spot closest to his heart, right where it — you — belong.

Dad’s dead. Tommy says mum cried, but he couldn’t understand why. After all, she’s the one who faced his wrath for the longest. She’s been on the receiving end of all his harshness. She’s the one who’s taken the most hits, the hardest hits. Simon nods in agreement but doesn’t tell his brother that he thinks he might know why.

Simon knows his mother is a good woman. A long time ago, his father wasn’t the man he knew growing up. He doesn’t know when the change in his personality happened, and Simon somehow feels like it’s his fault. He was the catalyst, the trigger. While she was pregnant with him, that’s when the violence and the drinking and the anger started. He knows mum isn’t crying to mourn the man he became; she’s just finally safe to grieve about the man she loved and lost. Simon hasn’t been able to face her in a while since he’s come to the conclusion that his being born was the cause of everything horrible that has happened to her. 

“No, I suppose not,” Simone says. The house feels smaller than he remembers, but when he walks into his childhood bedroom, he’s transported to darker times. The room is as big as the whole world again. This room, this damn house, is his only world. He’s nine and cowering in fear again. He’s little again. He’s scared again. He wants to run away, but his scrawny little legs won’t let him. Dad won’t let him. 

Then he blinks and realizes that the room hasn’t changed all that much.

Within the next week, Simon gets the house demolished and the land sold. 

“Ta-da!” You present to him a knitted, baby-blue blanket. The beginning stitchwork is sloppy at best with considerable improvement the further he looks. Between every thread, Simon can practically feel the love that’s stitched in it. 

“You like it?” You ask him, looking at him expectantly. 

“It’s perfect.” 

“Liar!” Your laugh rings through the cabin, and Simon feels like he’s being bathed in sunlight from the warmth of the sound alone. It’s distinctly yours, and he doesn’t want to be the barbarian who just takes and takes, but he wants it all to himself. He wants to catch it from the air and stuff it in his pockets and save it for when he’s in a foreign country and can’t sleep at night. 

“Why would I lie? It’s perfect.” You’re perfect.

“I messed up, like, five times trying to get this damn thing started! And it was so hard to get into a good groove since Simon Jr. thinks he’s a little football player. He’s been kicking like crazy!” To prove your point, you get closer to Simon and take one of his large hands, placing it on your growing belly. He’s sitting, surrounded by tools and pieces of a crib that he’s trying to build, and all he can do is look up in admiration at you, the most beautiful woman to walk this earth, an angel too good for this world, the mother of his child, his wife, you. Your hand is on top of his, and you squeeze it gently, and he loves the way the diamond on your wedding ring glitters in the sunlight. 

“He’s a strong one, alright.” Simon chuckles, feeling the way his son bumps against your belly. 

“Must get it from you, then.” 

That’s funny. Simon was just about to say that he’s pretty sure he gets it from you. 

When he’s with you, Simon likes to take things slow. He can be rough at times, demanding and conquering you with nothing but brute strength and vulgar compliments. Like a true soldier, you take all of his transgressions in stride. 

Tonight is one of the nights where Simon will indulge and finally take things slow. He likes to savor every moment he gets with you because no matter how much time has passed, the pessimist in him doesn’t stop reminding him that time is fickle, and the future is never promised. 

But Simon wants to build a future with you. Simon has built a future, but he’s greedy. So, so greedy. He wants more, he wants all of you, he wants everything you’re willing to give him. The way you part your legs for him, how you willingly — lovingly — let him in, even though nature resists.

No matter how many times he’s split you open on his cock, even with the slickness of the previous two orgasms he so happily wrung out from you, there’s still resistance as the width and length of his cock struggle to slide into your cunt. 

“It’s okay, love, let me in.” His whispers of reassurance are barely heard over your little whimpers. You’re nodding, trying to be a good girl for him, but the fact of the matter is that Simon Riley is incredibly too big. He is a god among men, and you find yourself squeezing his hand tightly as the first few inches of his cock make its way into your warmth. 

“I know, darling.” He mumbles, but his gentle words are spoken roughly. Desire coats every syllable, and his voice is gravelly. He’s holding back, restraining himself from giving in and giving it to you roughly. His hand, so much larger than your own, squeezes back. He’s slowly pushing more of his length inside your needy cunt, and you moan at the feeling of being complete. 

You don’t realize the tears that are welling up in the corner of your eyes as he completely enters you, the tip of his cock perfectly pressed against your cervix. Simon’s always been good at mixing pain and pleasure, and tonight is a testament to that. 

“More, please.” It comes out like a weak, little whine, and Simon is putty in your hands. Completely malleable to your every whim and desire. His love wants more? He’ll give you everything. 

Your lashes are wet with your tears, and he watches as tiny streams of tears fall down your heated cheeks. Your face feels warm to the touch, Simon realizes, as he leans down to kiss away your tears. Poor thing. You must have exerted yourself too much when you were thrashing around earlier as he refused to remove his mouth from your precious pussy until you came in his mouth. 

You’re no match for the sheer strength and power of Simon, who’s built like a Greek god and probably just as powerful. You surrender to the overwhelming sensation of his cock stroking in and out of your cunt, and you’re damn near shameless in your greed and desire for more. 

“Cum in me. I want you to give me another baby, wanna grow our family with you.” You toss your head back in pleasure, feeling the way his grip on your hand tightens at your words. The two of you move perfectly together; you wrap your legs around his waist as his free hand grips your hip to keep you steady. 

“Yeah? My wife wants me to fuck another baby into her?” Simon grunts, doubling his efforts to ensure that his cock hits deep enough to press against all the spots that have your walls tightening around him. 

The throbbing of his cock and the allure of expanding your family with Simon, with having a part of him always, even after the two of you have left this earth, is enough to send you over the edge. The ecstasy is all-consuming; all you know is Simon. You feel him to the depth of your core, his heat pressed against your own, your shared bedroom heavy with lust and love. 

He loves the way your body goes slack from the intensity of your orgasm. It lets him know that he’s fucked you just the way you deserved to be fucked, filled to the brim with his cock and his cum and all his love. He kisses you hard, savoring the natural sweetness of your lips pressed against his own. He muffles your moans as you feel the endless stream of his cum spilling inside of you, the warmth of it all being almost too much to bear. 

“Mmmf,” You pull back from his kiss, just so you can look him in the eyes as you give him his favorite reminder in the world.

“I love you.” 

He responds with another deep kiss. It says enough. It says I love you, too, and we’re going for a round two. 

He has all the time in the world with you.

He doesn’t feel any pain. That’s odd.

He looks back to the last minute. He heard the distinct sound of a gun firing, and he stumbled a bit as fate had its cruel fun and allowed the bullet to miraculously hit him in the one area his bulletproof gear just so happened to miss. What are the odds? 

He looks down. A dark stain is forming on his uniform, and the spot only continues to grow bigger. He moves a hand down to where the stain is at — it’s wet. A fresh wound. Fuck.

The sentiment is shared with Soap, who for once in his life doesn’t have anything smart to say. Ghost wants to say something cheeky, then. Just to keep him calm. It worked with Tommy. 

What’s the matter? Don’t worry about me. Should’ve seen the other guy. Almost had him in the last round. 

The words, Ghost realizes with growing dread, don’t quite come so easily.

It’s like his brain knows what he wants to do, but nothing is going as planned. Soap is saying something, but he just can’t quite make out the words. Johnny, speak proper fucking English, why don’t ya? 

No. That’s not the issue. Ghost frowns, but he doesn’t think Soap notices because of his damn mask. He can’t speak for shit, and he can’t hear, either. Actually, now that he’s really trying to take in his surroundings, everything’s a bit hazy, too. Like someone’s put some stupid film over everything, and stuff’s all slightly blurry. Just out of focus, just out of reach. 

“—get you home, alright?” The words sound all jumbled up, and Ghost only really catches the last end of whatever Soap’s blabbing on about. He’s a good kid. Great soldier. Stellar human being. He mentioned something about going home, but that’s just silly. The mission isn’t over yet, get it? They can’t go home ‘til the mission’s complete. 

“—don’t close your eyes—”

Home sounds nice. Warm vanilla in the colder seasons, jasmine with equal hints of something fruity and floral in the warmer ones. You fill the house with these scents, even matching your daily perfume to it. Doesn’t matter much to him, though. He hugs you close to his body and breathes in deeply, and he can still smell just you. No perfume will ever compare. 

Oh, and a busy kitchen. You’re covered in flour, his son sits on the counter, his daughter in her high chair. The entire kitchen comes to life, and every time he sees all three of you giggling in unison, his favorite sound of all, this kitchen becomes his whole world. This is what he goes to war to protect.

Baby blue walls and a crib. Crayon drawings of a stick figure family. Watching his daughter’s first steps and his son clinging to your legs. 

Maybe Soap’s right. Forget the mission. He should just head home.

But first, he’s really fucking tired. He’ll shut his eyes just for a minute.

He blinks a few times, eyes struggling to adjust to the light. Light slaps against his face were the cause for his waking up. A damn shame, honestly. He rarely dreams, but when he does, it’s of you, and he was dreaming about something certainly worth remembering for the next time he’s reunited with you. 

He rolls over to confront whoever dared to ruin the one good rest he’s had in a long time, only to come face to face with bright, innocent eyes the same shade as his own. 

“G’morning,” his son says, the words still clumsy on the two-year-old’s tongue. When Simon doesn’t answer immediately, he resumes slapping his father’s face.

“I’m up, buddy.” 

The little toddler claps his chubby little hands together in pure joy. 

“Dada home?”

Like a sight for sore eyes, you appear in the doorway, gently opening the door and pushing it open. You’ve got your daughter in your arms, and you look ready to scold the young boy for disturbing Simon until you realize that he’s already awake. There’s that smile of yours that Simon loves so much, the one he swears could bring him back to life.

“I’m home.”

author's note i intended for these little scenes/glimpses of his life to be the things ghost sees as he's bleeding out on the field. get it? the whole "life flashing before your eyes" thing BAHAHAHA. don't worry, he's alive and very much well, enjoying much needed domesticity with you + your little family. the last scene is him fucking u good and well, and that's the lil dream he was having. muahaha

[simpstantruther]

Hungry Heart ch. 1 | (Mullet) Stanley Pines x Reader

(Sorry, should have posted it this way the first time. First time posting fanfiction to tumblr).

Summary: Stan needs to go to Oregon. You need to get to California. Stan has a car. You have a cunt. (Can I make it any more obvious~)

Tags: 80s Americana Roadtrip Partners-in-Crime Stan x Reader fic. Smut. You can fix him, but you're worse.

TW: Alcohol Use

Preview:

His voice gets surprisingly soft. “Can I take you home?”

“You kiddin’ me?” You spit out the ruined lime slice. ”I thought you were a bum. What home you gonna take me to? Lovely spot under a bridge?"

“I got a motel room.” He adds defensively. “It’s somethin’.”

Read on AO3.

Your arms stick to the bar top. It’s sticky enough on its own. It smells like fruit cocktail and jaeger and all the other sickly sweet mixings that bar tops get coated in, with a lovely note of pissy beer over it all.

But it’s sweltering, even with the door kicked out and the flies starting to buzz inside. There’s a sheen of sweat over all your bare skin, sticking your thighs uncomfortably to your wooden stool. Your jean shorts are too short, and the high waist is digging into your ribs. 

You hate Dallas.

Stupid bartender cut you off two songs ago.

You hate this stupid bar, too.

You weren’t drunk. Not really. Just buzzed enough to tell him to shove a broken bottle up his ass when he snapped your bra strap from across the bar.

But he let you sit at the bar anyways. He was sweet like that. You feel pitiable, alone like this. Maybe he can tell. Maybe he hopes that if he lets you stay and no one else picks up the slack, you’ll let him take you home.

You’re not drunk enough for that. And you can afford to be choosey. Daddy always said you were a pretty girl. He told you to kill yourself before you weren't, but that was besides the point. 

You look at the stained mirror backing the bar. Dark circles under your eyes. Your hair is a mess. Your eyeliner is from three days ago, a dark stain under your bottom eyelashes. You're young, but you don't want to guess how much longer you'll have left by dear old dad's measure. Not the way you're living.  

You're not drunk, you're just reminiscing. 

“Got a wife and kids in Baltimore jack—“

You snap over to the juke box, playing the same fucking song again for the fifth time. Some mulleted asshole with sweat and beer stains over his white t-shirt croons along poorly, drunkenly leaning against the wall beside it.

“I go for a drive and never come back—“

“Not a-fucking-gain.” You groan, head in your hands. 

“What? Who’s got a problem with Springsteen?” He barks. The mellow rock continues without him.

You don’t turn. You’re not drunk, just a little on edge from the heat. You slide off your stool painfully and stumble. And okay, you’re drunker than you realize.

You point an accusing finger at the blurry man who stomps toward you. 

“If I wanted to hear someone butcher Bruce Springsteen songs, I’d toss quarters at the poor bastard with the chipped cup outside. At least he knows the god damn lyrics—“ 

You blink as he comes into focus. 

Dammit. 

He was cute, in a bring-me-home-and-disappoint-your-parents kind of way. Or if Kurt Russel had like, a really bad year. Square jaw. Scruffy chin. Bulbous nose, broken at least a few times. Baby beer gut. Big, broad shoulders. Narrow hips. God. Was he wearing fucking football gear or something? 

His lips stay parted like the mouth-breather he is. He looks you over too. Your loose tank top has a fallen strap, the hem hangs low over your chest. With your arms crossed, your tits look better than they are. His eyes fall to the bit of lace on your bra peeking out. It’s fine. That’s what it’s there for. 

You swallow thickly, feeling sweat crawl down your neck. 

“You played the same song five times in a row. Don’t you know the fuckin’ lyrics by now?” You mutter quietly, just enough to make him lean in and listen.

You feel his hot breath against your ear, trying to talk over the music. It smells like tequila and cheap cigarettes.

“You wanna teach it to me, Sweetheart?” 

You huff with amusement. A jersey dirtbag just like you, so far from home? What are the odds. 

He stands over you.

You imagine your thighs around his big dopey ears for a second, but the idea of his stubble tearing up your already irritated inner thighs feels unappetizing.

“Nah. Learn it yourself.” You turn. His meaty hand grabs your arm. 

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“I don’t know.” You tilt your head. “Can you?” It’s a genuine question. You both glance at the bartender who curls his lip.

“Hermano! One for the lady, por favor!”

Surprisingly, the bartender nods. You both cling to the bar, like the railing of a ship tipping over.

“He’s Italian.” You mutter under your breath, watching the bartender mix you another vodka-soda.

“Huh?” He leans his elbow on the bar beside you, his other hand coming around your other side. He’s like a furnace. You are sweating out his beer through osmosis. 

You nod to the flag hung behind the bartender and fan yourself with a damp coaster.

“It’s an Italian flag. The Mexican one has an eagle.”

“I know. I did time in Mexico.” He says it like he’s proud. Like you should care. Stupid cute smug grin. 

“Small world!” You turn towards him.

“Gettin’ smaller.” He looks amused and he coils a strand of your hair around his finger, now leaning his arm on your shoulder. “You serious? You got locked up there?”

“No.” You say, deadpanned. He laughs. You feel it, tucked against his chest.

“You’re funny.” 

“And you’re just an asshole.” You say as you sip your drink, faster than you should. 

He shrugs one shoulder dismissively. “So, you from Jersey?” He asks, knocking back a shot of tequila with only a grimace. “You sound like my Ma.”

“Born and raised. You?”

“Born and raised. Small world. Why’d you ever leave Jersey?”

“To leave Jersey. ”

He sucks his teeth. “Ain’t you got a family or somethin’?” 

“What, are you gonna kidnap me?” He laughs again. His laugh is stupid, loud, makes you wanna laugh with him. Maybe just at him. You shrug. “Followin’ my old man out west.”

“New family?”

“New everything.”

“Lucky guy. It’s harder than it sounds, starting a new life.” He sighs bitterly, nodding as the bartender refills his shooter. “Some fuckers have all the luck.” 

You hold your glass out to him. You long since drained it of alcohol, but the ice remains. You suck on one melting cube in your cheek and crunch it between your teeth. “To the unlucky bastards, then.” 

He tuts his tongue and takes the empty glass from your hand, replacing it with another shooter.

“That’s better. To the unlucky bastards.” 

You hate tequila. 

But you love free liquor.

“Salud.” You wince as it burns down your throat, shutting your eyes tightly for a moment before you open to see him watch you with his elbow on the bar top.

“Love seein’ a beautiful chick knockin’ back tequila like a champ.” He smirks.

“Love it from a distance. You’re in the splash zone.” You groan, setting back down the glass and snagging a lime from behind the bar to suck against your teeth. 

“I don’t scare easy.” 

You narrow your eyes. “You want me to yak on you?”

“If you would do me the honors.” He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t lose his easy smile.

You smirk briefly. “Freak.” 

“I get that a lot.” The smile loosens. Just a bit. He swallows and you watch his adam’s apple bob. His voice gets surprisingly soft.

“Can I take you home?”

“You kiddin’ me?” You spit out the ruined lime slice. ”I thought you were a bum. What home you gonna take me to? Lovely spot under a bridge?"

“I got a motel room.” He adds defensively. “It’s somethin’.”

“Livin’ large.” You draw out the vowels condescendingly. As if you’re any better. “You ain’t worried I’ll rob you blind in the night, big shot?”

“Don’t got much. And if you can sneak it past me, I figure you deserve it.”

You look over him again.

You consider it, you really do. He could have been worse. You’ve had worse. Half the nights you spent on your way west were spent banging for room and board. Or at least picking guys drunk and rich enough to pay for the taxi home and pass out before they remembered to touch you. 

You should be dead. A dozen times, you wished you were. Easily, you could have been. And no one would go looking for you.

You have a feeling he understands what that’s like. Poor bastard.

But tonight, you paid for a room. And for the love of God, clean(ish) beds to yourself were in short supply. The T.V. in your room was busted and the liquor store was closed. You came here for the lovely conversation.

“Sorry. Not tonight, buddy.” You avert your eyes. “But thanks for the drinks.”

He frowns and nods, not happy with the rejection clearly but respectful enough to accept it anyways.

“Well, I’m in town a couple more days. If you need somethin’, give me a call, okay sweetheart?”

He fishes out a business card from his front jean pocket. It’s wrinkled and damp with sweat. 

The Loveshack the card says.

You pick up the card and turn it on both sides. 

“Cute.”

“I’m in room eight.” He eyes the card nervously. “Or ask for Lee.”

“Lee.” You repeat. “Thanks, Lee.” You hold your hand out to shake and give him a fake name. He holds your hand and your eyes. 

“I mean it. Give me a call.” He pleads.

You huff with mirth, sticking the card in your pocket. You haven’t heard a boy beg for a call like that since highschool.

“Alright, alright.” You slide off your barstool again, slightly more graceful than the first time. 

“Goodnight, Lee.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

“Stupid.” You smirk at eachother as you step back towards the exit. You know he’s waiting for you to turn so he can stare at your ass.

Bruce Springsteen croons you out as you leave the bar. You hear Lee belting along. 

“Everybody’s got a hungry heart. Everybody’s got a hungry heart.”

[peaxhxhair]

Bad day || Husk

Pairing: Husk x Gn! Reader

Warnings: No use of Y/n in this fic!Drinking.

A/n: I have a feeling that 90% of my Hazbin fics will be ooc LMAO

“Husk dear, can I get another?” You say as you push your glass towards the bartender. Today had not been a happy day in hell - quite the opposite actually. Working in hell was always horrible, but working for the Vee’s was something else. Though, some are worse than others..

Working for Velvette was a job full of insults and being told that you’re shit at your job. Not once had you had a good day at work. Yet, you were aware that Velvette’s insults and harsh management were nothing compared to what other sinners were going through.

For the most part, you kept your feelings to yourself - instead choosing to drink. Husk was probably the most important person to you - being the one to pour your drinks and all.

“What the hell is wrong with you anyway?” He asks, as he pours whiskey into your glass before handing it back to you. Apparently your dismay was obvious because he noticed it immediately, choosing not to say anything until now. “Something on your mind?” He rephrases his question, and you force a smile onto your face, before Downing the liquid in your glass.

“My boss is really shitty” You say, eyebrows furrowed. He chuckles at your words, refilling your glass again.

“Join the club, baby” he says, leaning against the counter in front of you. You chuckle at him, but nod. Everyone in hell has a shitty boss. It was the home of shitty bosses after all. “The bee's giving you trouble?” His expression is concerned, and he refills your glass every time you empty it.

“Just Velvette. Though that’s probably the contract, huh?” You laugh, resting your chin in the palm of your hand. You felt stupid making a deal with Velvette, but you had no other option. That was years ago, yet you haven’t managed to break that contract yet. So, you were stuck working for her, dedicated to fashion 24/7.

You agreed to come to the hotel, in an attempt to be redeemed, and to maybe live normally for once. No luck yet.

Husk doesn't say much, just listening to what you had to say. Though, he was paying attention to how much you drank, eventually replacing alcohol with water. You, of course, noticed immediately.

“You cut me off, kitty?”

“You’ve had enough, baby” he says, pushing the glass of water towards you. You drink it anyway. You look down at the counter as he slides across another glass of water.

“You’re too nice to me” you were joking, but she seemed to take it seriously.

“Someone has to” His ears flick, and he turns away from you, returning to polishing a glass.

“Thanks kitty…”

[wayfayrr]

Toucan play at this game

Part two of Birds without feather flock together!!! this is a direct continuation of the previous fic and it was also commissioned by @lost4pandora <3 this time there's more fluff and just overall softness

[masterlist]

“Pressing in what way? Because I know Wild wouldn’t have been so upset with simple ‘questioning’.”

“I- you remember what you did for me during the war? The um-”

“So you’ve been pushing him about getting prosthetic wings.”

Makes sense why wars has been looking guilty now, if it wasn’t for the fact that they knew it was possible from me helping to repair his back in the war, then they wouldn’t be able to push it so hard. It’s not exactly his fault as long as he wasn’t one of the few that’ve been pressuring him. 

“Well, the others have. I backed off after the first time it was talked about because I respect Wild’s decision. Wars however…”

“It - I, I wanted to drop it but the others, well they wouldn’t exactly let me. I-”

“He w’s their shin’n example.”

“Wild’s right, as much as I wanted to let the topic just drop…”

“Wars struggles to tell the others no sometimes.” Not like I needed to be told that, after how much time I’ve spent around him it’s pretty clear he has a hard time saying no to anyone really. Every time I asked him the smallest favour he always did it without question, often times above what I asked for too. His will to please is often his fatal flaw. He still could have stood up more though seeing how much it affected Wild, they were doing it out of concern, no need to flip out at them yet. 

“I am aware. He’s shown that off time and time again.”

“Huh? but it’s only to people he’- don’t shove me like that!?”

“I know. I know trust me. It’s something I’m working on.” What was Sky going to say if wars hadn’t interrupted him there? Does it really matter though, what this is supposed to be is learning why this pressing has been so bad for Wild and how to get the rest to drop it. Although the time away from the group seems to be doing him good, his familiar weight pressing into my side as he’s making himself comfortable leaning on me. 

“That doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been upsetting him though, does it?”

“Well no it-”

“Yeah it doesn’t, does it.”

They’re both fumbling a little bit now, Wars a considerable amount more than Sky, who’s admittedly keeping a fair amount of this new colder unbothered demeanour of his about him. It’s both oddly comforting and at the same time chilling, without Wild here to help keep the warm in my bones I might have frozen to the touch. I can’t say I wouldn’t want to see more of it. 

“So I take it that one of you is going to tell Time and the others to start laying off of him before I take matters into my own hands. Wars preferably? Seeing as you’re the one who’s pretty much the cause of this.”

“Wars should certainly be the one to do it.” 

The growl in Sky’s voice was completely new, even to someone who’s been travelling with him for longer; Isn’t a growl usually a sign of a bird being aggressive? Is he getting aggressive for our sake… why does my face feel so warm all of a sudden; and are Wild’s tail feathers poofing up? Huh… Maybe there’s something else to question if we get any privacy from wars later, although… It’s probably better for Wild and I to discuss things first, so that neither of us get hurt. 

“I- well, I- yes. I do need to take some responsibility for my part in this after all, don’t I?”

“It’d be the first step to earning both Wild and I’s trust in you back, if you want to do that anyway.”

“Huh - What of course I want to- why wouldn’t I?”

“Why wouldn’t you? Because you’ve shown that you put the pressure of the chain as more valuable than their feelings you fool.”

Wars looked worse than if he were slapped across the face at that; it’s nice not having to be the one to call him out on it either, because Hylia above I know I would have been worse than Sky was. I care for Wars, of course I do, but the fact that he simply went along with this when he saw how much it was affecting my sweet little bird? I would have made him regret it. Which he knows.He’s got the decency to look ashamed though. Standing with his wings drawn close to him, looking smaller than Sky for once even; although with how much he’s puffed out it’s not that hard to look smaller than him. 

“Guys.”

With the speed at which both of them turned their heads, I’m surprised that neither of them got whiplash or worse. The silence was more deafening than it should have been too; the whole forest around us seemingly dropping dead.

“I think it’s for the best that Wars goes back now so that we can avoid most of the fallout.”

“They’ll just question you later instead.”

“Yes, but we won’t be there for the Immediate backlash.”

“You’ll only be putting it off though.”

“You should go back now and tell them we’ll stay here for the night.”

It’s good that Wild feels comfortable enough to be speaking again now, and well I can’t say that having him be so assertive isn’t nice either. He’s still just as cuddly though so nothing was lost, except for maybe a little bit more of the captain's self-esteem as his wings droop even lower.

“Sky and I can go back to the main camp then. Throw ourselves to the wolves for you.”

You can hear the nerves in his voice now; letting out a quiet warble with frantic glances in sky’s direction. Why is he so worried about going back alone? 

“‘d prefer if Sky stayed here.”

“Oh?”

That was the biggest possible stroke to Sky’s ego that he could have given the man, made immediately clear by how much he puffed himself up and started getting flustered. Even going so far as to let out the softest little trill, competing with Wild for the cutest bird. Wait what am I thinking - why am I even - I don’t - I don’t see sky in that way. Do I?

“Mhm, I wanna be with the people I trust r’ght now.”

“And I’m one of those people!?”

“... you don’t trust me?”

“No… not at the minute.”

That seemed to be the nail in the coffin of the captain’s ego, leaving it shattered on the floor now; now he’s just looking between me and Sky for something is it pity he wants? Whereas Sky walked over with the biggest grin on his face, like the cat that got the cream. Since when did he get so damn pretty? 

“Can - Will I be able to earn it back?”

“In time, if you prove you really want to. But not now.” 

“That - yeah I can live with that. I’ll prove it to you that I will- that I can.”

And with one final teary-eyed glance between us, he turned and left. Leaving the three of us alone. I can’t say that I’m surprised that Wild trusts Sky but to want him here after the argument, well that is surprising. I can talk to him about it later though, maybe we could get him to collect some firewood while we collect our thoughts. 

“So what are we doing now? I guess I’m staying up here for the night. Unless you two would prefer some privacy in a bit?” 

“I - I’d like you to stay, please. Just, could you possibly give us a little bit of time, a few minutes even?”

“Yeah, some time to process everything would be lovely.”

“That works well, I’ll just go fly around for a bit and don’t worry I won’t listen in on you.”

Now it’s just Wild and I sitting alone on the plateau like we were back at the start of our journey again. 

Waiting till Sky was high enough to the point where we wouldn’t have to be worried about hearing anything as he circled the area lazily before going to perch somewhere. Leaving us to discuss everything. Well after sitting down and getting as comfortable as we both could, which meant sitting with Wild snuggled up against me.

“So them pressing you is why you’ve been so stressed recently? Why didn’t you come to talk to me about it my lil fluffball?”

“Didn’t want you overreacting.”

That- that’s fair, I can see why he thought I could have done that. 

“But I wouldn’t have done anything that you wouldn’t have wanted me too.”

“Mhm, I know ‘s just worried about it.”

“Okay that’s understandable love, but please don’t hesitate to tell me if it ever happens again. I don’t want you dealing with it alone.”

“I won’t, I promise. Besides I’ve got sky, wolfie and you now.”

“Oh? Sky’s made it into that list fast hasn’t he?”

“He’s a good friend to me, and I know there’s something going on between the two of you too.”

What? What does he mean by that? 

“I’m not blind my beloved, you look at him the same way you looked at me before we were together.”

I could feel my face lighting up now. Between everything he’s saying and the fact that he’s pressing kiss after kiss on my neck. My sly little bird trying to stop me from really being able to focus. Just because he doesn’t want to talk about his own issues. If he thinks I’ll drop it over him trying this he’s dead wrong.

“No, no there isn’t anything there link. And anyway we’re supposed to be talking about you here.”

“I’m not bothered, you know. I think sharing you with him would be nice.”

“Link I’m trying to talk about you being upset, not about whatever you’re imagining right now. Please stop trying to change the topic.”

“He looks at you the same way too, wouldn’t you at least want to try?”

[devildomsoup]

I was reading your "Silly little headcannons" and saw that you said that Barbatos "Will cradle MC like a little baby when he is stressed or just missed them." Which, for one, is so adorable I love that so much!!! If you haven't already, if you could just do a short fluffy fic with that scenario I would be delighted! 🥰 Thank you very much for hearing me out!

Hold Me Close to Your Heart

Genre: Fluff

Character: Barbatos

MC: gender neutral they/them

Type: Oneshot

A/N I wanted to post this way sooner than this but exams are sadly occupying a lot of my time right now.

Barbatos was not having a good day. So far it had actually been nothing but awful.

It started with one of the Little. Ds breaking an expensive vase. Then it turned out that the spices Barbatos had ordered would be delayed. On top of that, someone had decided to eat all the treats for an upcoming meeting. To make it all worse they were all out of sugar because a Little. D dropped the container with it. The sugar was all over the floor which meant that not only did Barbatos need to head out and buy new sugar he also had to clean the entire kitchen floor.  

His shopping trip was also awful. 

For some reason, the entire Devildom had decided that they needed to go grocery shopping that day. The checkout line was stupidly wrong and there were at least 5 demons who tried to skip the line. When Barbatos finally got out of the store it started to rain and because of all the bags, he was crying he couldn’t hold an umbrella resulting in him coming home soaking wet. 

But the worst thing had to be what happened at the castle while he was away.

Solomon had somehow managed to get into the castle's kitchen and decided to cook one of his abominations. Making yet another mess for Barbatos to clean up.

It was safe to say that Barbatos was feeling just a little bit stressed. But the stoic demon of course did not show it. Not even a slightly furrowed eyebrow could be seen on his face. But on the inside, he was screaming bloody murder. Sadly, he could not do much else than clean the mess, change his clothes and continue fulfilling his duties. 

Evening came and so did more trouble. The universe just did not want Barbatos to have it easy. 

A tired sigh escaped his lips as he placed the last fork in the drawer where it belonged. He was more than happy with the day coming to an end. Barbatos rubbed his temples, turned off the lights and walked out of the kitchen. As Barbatos made his way through the many halls of the castle he came across his Young Master.

"Good evening Young Master.”

“Good evening Barbatos it seems like you have a guest waiting at the pavilion.”

That was strange, he was not exciting anyone, but Barbatos made his way to the garden where the pavilion was, nonetheless. The halls were eerily quiet and the only sound you could hear was the quiet clicks of Barbatos’ shoes. As he reached the garden, he could not help but wonder who this so-called guest was. Had he really forgotten something so important as a guest visiting? Surely that could not be true.

Arriving at the pavilion Barbatos stopped dead in his tracks as he saw someone he did not expect. Sitting there was MC. No wonder he could not recall having gusts, MC had never said they were going to be here.

“Surprise,” MC said sheepishly, not quite sure how to interpret Barbatos.

“Uhm… Luke and I made too many cookies, so I thought I would drop by and give some to you and Diavolo. When I arrived Diavolo grabbed a bunch of cookies for himself and then told me to wait here,” MC explained, gesturing towards the box of decorated cookies beside them. 

Barbatos quietly walked over to MC and sat down beside them.

“Hope I didn’t arrive at a bad time. I can leave if it is,” MC spoke, still unsure of what Barbatos’ actions meant.

Barbatos did not say anything, instead, he just pulled Mc onto his lap and warped his arms around them holding them close to his chest. 

"Barbatos?”

“My apologies. That was unbecoming of me to do,” Barbatos responded, starting to let go of MC.

“It’s okay.”

After hearing that Barbatos tightened his grip, he pulled MC closer to his chest. Nothing in the 3 realms could make him let go of them now. This was all he needed right now. Everything else was unimportant; the only thing that mattered was MC. Barbatos removed his gloves so he could enjoy the warm feeling of MC’s skin better. There was something so comforting about the warmth of a human. Sure, some demons were warmer than a volcano but the earth from a human was special. Even when Mc was cold their body still emitted a certain warmth. Maybe that warmth was just the feeling of comfort that spread through Barbatos’ body whenever he got to hold MC.  

A small evening breeze travelled through Barbatos’ hair making MC tuck a few stray strands behind his ear. It was strange Barbatos always made sure to keep his composure yet when it was just him and MC, he lost it. The face that usually only wore a service smile or a neutral expression was now filled with our adoration and joy. The eyes that were usually cold and calculating were now looking ever so gently at MC like they were the most prized jewel in all of the 3 realms. 

How Barbatos had longed for this moment. Always thinking of how nice it would be to simply wrap his arms around MC and hold them close. After having such an awful day there really was nothing better than that.

Looking at MC he noticed how their eyes were beginning to close and before Barbtost knew it Mc had drifted off to sleep in his arms. Barbtos did not mind at all. It meant they felt comfortable enough in his arms to lower their guard. 

“Sleep tight, you are safe in my arms.”

[dxmoness]

SPEAK NOW | MULTI-MANHWA

note — for Jami once again. SURPRISE FIC!!!

characters — gallahan lombardi, claude de alger obelia, rezef hill, ijekiel alpheus

pronouns — she/her, this will be reader instead of Jami herself like the other two fics so hopefully it's enjoyable to everyone!

—“THE WATER'S ROUGH, BUT THIS LOVE IS OURS.”

→ G. LOMBARDI

Gallahan Lombardi had been the man she had wedded a year ago and until now he hadn't failed to make her feel loved. Always so positive Gallahan made sure she felt so good about everything she did. If Name felt bad, Gallahan was there to tell her otherwise. Now in all this negativity things got worse when she found herself in a heap of untruths planted by other nobles. Her mentally drained at it and she tried hiding it from her husband. "Name?" Gallahan's voice was gentle and sweet as her body was engulfed in a warm embrace. "Is something wrong?" He whispered kindly as his eyes gleam with concern for her. After all she hadn't been herself. She broke down in tears as she told him everything. "It's okay." he whispered, kissing her forehead. "You'll be okay." He smiles and then the day ended with her in his comforting arms.

—“THIS WAS THE VERY FIRST PAGE, NOT WHERE THE STORYLINE ENDS.”

→ C. DE ALGER OBELIA.

Claude de Alger Obelia was a cold hearted man. Especially after the death of his beloved Diana. But, this cold demeanor seemed to shrink when he met her. Name was just a maid that was captured from another nation. The people who had did the human trafficking behind her way here was arrested and she was brought to the Ruby Castle to be a maid there. But, days came by as a surprise to the young female as the emperor himself seemed to enjoy her company. He knew it was wrong, but who cares? He was emperor and no one was bossing him around thus they got close. But, one thing leads to another as Name falls for a man that wasn't him, which brings him in pain. At their wedding, he came forward. "I object to this !marriage." Words that brought the guests confusion and surprise. Even he didn't know where this was coming from, but he didn't want her to marry someone else. Name seems to brighten up as she walks towards him. An objection by the emperor made her feel something. "Why?" Her question was asked after they left the place of the wedding's display. "Because I love you, and I can't lose you now." His voice grew warm at least Name thought so as he leaned closer. His lips against hers.

— “DROP EVERYTHING NOW, MEET ME IN THE POURING RAIN.”

→ I. ALPHEUS

Name was the princess' sister. When Athanasia made her choice to be with Lucas, Name was there for Ijekiel. And let's just say he had fallen for her slowly. Her smiles and things she did to comfort him of his heartbreak. "Good morning, Ijekiel." Name says with a smile as she greets him warmly. "Good morning, Your Highness." He kisses her gloved hand delicately. His eyes meet hers, a certain emotion in them that she couldn't quite get. "Do you need anything?" She asks kindly. She asks this because he never comes unless she invited him. "I just...needed to hear your voice." His face flushed as Name just laughs, a good way of laughing. Her eyes gleam with delight as she hugs him. "Okay."

— “I HAD TIME MY LIFE FIGHTING DRAGONS WITH YOU!”

→ R. HILL

Rezef Hill didn't like anyone except his sister. This was extremely noticeable as he rejected every single match his father brought his way. But, he had a secret. He was in love with his sister's lady in waiting, Name. Every time he saw her, something unfamiliar comes to his feelings. It's as if she was driving him mad. He hid it very while in his cold expressions towards her, but it was hard even for him. With every move towards he felt less himself as he fought the feelings away. That was until Name got close to Raffaelo Kidrey, as how he sees it. He grew more determined to get her than ever as he practically made up excuses to see her face everyday. "Are you alright, Your Highness?" Name asks, confused as he called yet again for the second time today. His cheeks seemed tinted as he nods. "Okay then..."

tagging, @sxnful-sins / @sxnful-rage , @salvatvre , @orlic1a , @yevene , @roseadleyn

[zeppeli-reelstallbun]

The Exception

<- previous - Chapter 1

[PAIRING] Bucciarati x Reader (afab-she/her) (multiple pov)

[SUMMARY] Your date was a disaster, and your expectations had already been low to begin with- but a good friend does what she must. Read the prologue first!!

[WC] 2.5k APOLOGIES they will not be this short in the future. These first two parts are plot important for setup reasons, unfortunately. Just didn’t want to put more than one pov in a single post yall

[!!!] language, concept is inspired by goodfellas, so a lot of dialogue and narration has been picked straight from that. not cannon accurate, google translated Italian, pulling things out of my ass in terms of locations and such, lmk if I missed anything,

[A/N] Woof, here’s chapter one as promised. They will be longer moving forward, I swear. Eh I don’t feel that bad, these were posted on the same day. Uhhhh yeah don’t know what else to say except that I got my nails done and now they’re a bitch to type with so that’s pretty cool. Also, merry early Christmas for those who celebrate :)

Also also, as someone who hates reading oc names in fics 99% of the time, the made up friend character means nothing to me and will be gone so soon. Toodles.

I can’t stand him. In fact, I’d call him obnoxious. He’s just sitting there, fiddling with his watch like this isn’t worth his time.

It had been like this the entire night, and you were beginning to wonder why you even agreed to join Lucia in the first place. It seemed like Guido was a decent guy, at least if you ignored his questionable taste in friends. Thankfully she was having a good time, sitting and laughing and leaning into his chest like she wasn’t hesitant to go out in the first place. Yes, your expectations had been low to begin with, but the behavior you witnessed at dinner was nothing but insulting. And then, before it was time to go, your date was rushing you out of the restaurant! It was ridiculous how he paraded you to the vehicle as if this were a successful night out, hand hovering over the small of your back until needed to open your door.

You didn’t feel like it was overdramatic to call this evening a failure. In fact, that word seemed a gross understatement even now.

If it weren’t for one exchange he initiated on the trip home, you might have believed the entire thing had been orchestrated to get you away from Lucia. At first, you were confused when he pulled up the driver's privacy screen; was he about to give you a reason to be concerned?

”I realize tonight wasn’t…” he paused, picking his next word carefully, “optimal.”

You didn’t give him a response, keeping your knees shifted away from him and your posture neutral.

He continued, “Mista didn’t invite me until yesterday. I already made a commitment to meet with my supervisor tonight, something I couldn’t change even if I wanted to. But he couldn’t really ask anyone else.”

“Lucia practically begged us to meet them again Friday-“ you began, getting ready to give him a way out.

“Guido wasn’t much better,” your date interjected. “I think he would have dropped to his knees if we told him it would secure a yes.”

In spite of yourself, a laugh escaped from the bottom of your stomach. He was witty, you realized. And worse, he delivered it in the same, dry tone he used in regular conversation. The combination left you speechless, if only temporarily.

“I won’t be able to pick you up,” he continued before you could object, “but I can take you home again, if you’d prefer. Can we meet at the restaurant?”

Fine. You thought as you nodded your head. One more chance. All things considered, I can give him the benefit of the doubt.

You didn’t think of anything else for the remainder of the drive. Not the fact that your date seemed to have a personal driver, nor the suspicion in meeting an employer so late in the evening. You were only focused on getting home and trying to put aside your personal frustrations for the next time you dined with Bruno Bucciarati. After all, he still took the time to walk you to your door. Did he factor this into his schedule? Did he plan to leave with time to escort me home instead of letting me third wheel?

But, you weren’t willing to think about that right now.

He hadn’t proven that he deserved it, at least not yet.

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

Guido was more than happy to drive you to dinner alongside Lucia, though you knew this was an attempt to gain your friend's favor more than anything else. Regardless, you appreciated the gesture. It beat walking halfway across the globe to reach the restaurant, which seemed to have been picked for its inconvenient location over anything else. Still, you wouldn’t complain. You didn’t need to worry about the transportation, and you likely wouldn’t have to pay for your meal again. He might have been closed off during conversation, but Bucciarati didn't even let you touch the check. Besides, it would be a challenge for the second dinner to go worse than the first one…

Perhaps that thought was responsible for your hesitance to admit he stood you up.

First it was five minutes. Then ten. Then fifteen, and you were escorted to your seats. Twenty, and the waiter checked in on the table. Twenty-five, and his friend explained that one more might be coming. Thirty, and you felt your hopes drop completely. Oh well, guess I dodged a bullet.

“I feel terrible. I don’t know where he is.” Mista finally said, confronting the elephant in the room. The waiter had taken their orders, it felt awkward pushing him back any longer. You had insisted the couple have some sort of date, you really didn’t care that things didn’t work out… It wasn't your fault Mista had unreliable friends.

“You know, he really liked you too,” he continued, turning to Lucia, “all he did was talk about her. He liked you.”

Sure. Maybe last night I could have believed that.

You were a trio instead of a double date that night. But you didn’t really care. Did you? Even second guessing that feeling of apathy made your stomach churn, why should it matter that one guy didn’t work out. Worse than that, however, Guido thought he was making things better by bringing it up every time he saw fit. What you thought would be simple enough to ignore instead continued to grow with each minute that passed. By the time dinner wrapped up, you considered yourself angry with the man.

With the same grating voice you had become accustomed to, Mista began to ramble again, “He should have called, I hope it’s nothing serious. He really isn’t like this, ever.”

“Then why don’t we do something instead of just talking about it.” You finally snapped back, dropping the fork from your hand. You’d had enough of the idle chatter, enough of the unimportant setup. It was time for Mista to put his money where his mouth was.

“What?” He asked, brows furrowing.

“Let’s go find him.” You were being dead serious, the extravagant wine in your system encouraging you to rip him a new one. “You know where he spends time, I assume.”

Pleadingly, you locked eyes with your friend, praying she would understand what you were telling her. He’ll do anything you say right now, he’s wrapped around your finger.

You don’t know why you even doubted her, she read your mind with ease. “Pleaaaase Guido-“ she whined, wrapping her arms around him while tossing her head back. “We could stay at mine if we’re out too late looking for him.”

Frankly, the tone of her voice left you impressed. I owe you big time, you said with your gaze. She rolled her eyes at you, unknown to the boy escorting them out. ‘Lord, you have no idea,’ you guessed she replied.

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

While you assumed Guido would be a careful driver at first, all notions of the concept had fleeted by the time you reached Napoli Centrale.

You had nearly been ready to give up. In reality, you had only been driving for upwards of an hour, but it felt like you were trapped in the car with the couple for days. The sun had long begun its descent, street lights now illuminating the water lined streets. There wasn’t a man on earth worth all this trouble, regardless of how pissed you were at him. You were about to voice your defeat, when your friend's date caught a glimpse of the less than subtle blue hair. You didn’t even have the time to voice an objection before the car drifted to an enthusiastic halt.

Guido had given you an entrance, his brakes squeaking enough to burn rubber and announce your presence to the entire block. Whatever you decided to say, it needed to match that urgency. There was nothing left to do but open the door and step out of the car, fists clenched so as not to show their trembling.

Unaware of the storm approaching, Bucciarai recognized the vehicle, if nothing else. “Mista, I don’t have time-”

“You have some nerve standing me up.” You cut him off, slamming the door behind you as you made your way to the paved entryway he was occupying. “Nobody does that to me.”

He wasn’t alone, you noticed. Fuck. “Who do you think you are, some big shot? Think you’re pretty enough to be a casanova?” The group of men around him loosened up, muttering a bit at the show starting in front of them. One even let out a laugh at his expense.

You savored the look on his face, the perfect mix of shock and awe. His mouth fell agape, but he quickly pulled himself together.

Turning to take one more look at his friends, Bruno stood to greet you. His legs closed the distance with ease, and he brought his hands as he spoke. “Take it easy. Slow down, all right?” He smiled convincingly, eying you up and down to gauge how pissed you might have been. “I forgot. I thought it was next week.”

You threw your head back, unimpressed as you spat, “It was Friday. It was this Friday. And you agreed.” What did it even matter? “Fuck off-”

He took a step forward as you began to turn away, reaching out to grab your wrist. Gentle, you noticed, despite the stern command in its nature. “Hey, we can talk about this,” he nearly asked, “take it easy.”

The group of boys laughed at him. Any variation of ‘calm down’ is universally frowned upon when confronting an upset woman, how Bruno managed to forget this was unfathomable. For his group of boys, this was the luckiest day of their life. Finally, something to hold over the perfect mafiosos head. For you, however, this was the final straw.

“Talk about it?” You asked slowly, furrowing your brows and tilting your head as if saying ‘that’s the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.’

“Talk to you after what you just did to me?” You were smiling, shaking your head as one of the onlookers let out an ‘oooooooh.’

“Forget it. I’m not talking to you about anything.” You finished, pulling your hand back. That’s when you noticed it -- the look in Bucciaratis eyes that left you second guessing your anger. According to his dark gaze, you were something between predator and prey. A challenge to be untangled. A delicious meal laced with deadly poison. You wanted to gag for even thinking something so cliche.

Unknown to you, it’s not often someone speaks to Bruno this way. Unknown to you, this sparked his interest more than anything else. Aside from his superiors, this behavior wouldn’t have been tolerated… In all honesty, he would have put a stop to it immediately if you were one of his boys. If you were anyone else, he wouldn't have dealt with you at all.

But, here you were. Some civilian girl somewhere in between the two, allowed to make a public mockery of his shortcomings. The boys sitting behind him did not take this lightly, this you recognized if nothing else.

“I thought you would stand me up. You looked bored. You didn’t say anything. What do you expect? Hmm?” You turned, rolling your eyes while shifting your weight. His grip on your wrist gave him one final point of leverage over you. Pulling you back towards him once more, the two of you locked eyes.

“Well-” he began, eyeing you up and down again, “let me make it up to you.”

It must have been the way his gaze lingered. Despite your anger, a part of you never wanted anyone to look at you with that same hunger ever again. Only him. You wanted to capture Bucciaratis' look of yearning, it had felt like you deserved to. You had gone through this much trouble to obtain it, after all.

But still, he didn’t deserve a solid answer from you. “I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll make it up to you. Next Friday,” he patted his jacket, taking a moment of composure to look for something, “I’ll pick you up at 8.”

Bold. Straightforward. It was a start.

“You’ll show up to my house at 8,” you corrected, beginning to walk back to Mistas car, “I’ll decide if you’re picking me up or begging.”

A chorus of laughter and mockery rang in your ears as you turned back to the car. If nothing else, that group of boys wasn’t going to let their friend hear the end of it.

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

This is purely self indulgent slop, also, im about to go get so baked in my childhood bedroom - wish me luck

[ambrosialdesire]

down boy, down

18+ DARK CONTENT BELOW, MINORS + BLANK BLOGS DNI

pairing: gorou x fem!reader word count: 6.5k warnings + tags: general yandere and obsessive themes, explicit sexual content, unhealthy relationships, kinda pwp, slight misogyny, dubcon, edging, male masturbation, heat (rut), knotting, breeding, innocent virgin (for now) & pervert gorou, mentions of panty stealing, brief sub gorou (he's just insanely horny), begging, degradation sorta, religious guilt implications, power imbalance/abuse of power, corruption (kinda, it's just yae miko is just nudging him), all characters are 18+ synopsis: generals are supposed to be the prime example of rigorous restraint and complete self-discipline, but this doggy general can't control himself when your presence is around. gorou feel like he's losing his mind with the way his thoughts only contain the need to completely breed you and it's getting worse as time goes on. a/n: yes i can write something else besides aot lolol some terms are not officially in-game (mostly the military terminologies) and some parts of the lore i sorta forgot because its been so long since i played inazuma's story. i tried as best as i could to fill in. there's not a lot of yandere gorou so i wanted to try my hand at it. this is technically my first smut fic in a while so apologies in advanced if it's bad (i'm terrible at dirty talk cause it's so awkward to write lol). in my mind, he has scars, muscles (but not super super defined ones), and is slightly taller than his in-game model. i wanted to try and write in the guy's perspective cause it may or may not be a practice for some incoming fics hehe enjoy!! note: please keep in mind of the tags above and do not proceed if triggering or uncomfortable, especially if you are a minor!! do not read my or any other writers' dark content if you are underaged. this is a fictional work and does not reflect irl morals, do not believe this is how a real romance works or functions.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

For Archons' sake, Gorou's a general.

Someone who has the respect of all that he swore to protect. He's the supposed "top-dog" soldier of Watatsumi Island. He built his reputation from the ground up, spent years upon years training himself to be the best soldier on the island. He's the number one supporter of Sangonomiya Kokomi, the Divine Priestess who entrusted him with leading her army safely through the throes of this terrible war. He's been told he was a humble leader, a man of sincere righteousness, a good person.

Internally, he knew that everyone had it all wrong about him.

They don't know that this man, this soldier, had become a disgusting degenerate of an animal.

Sick, sick thoughts filled his mind when the nights grew quiet and the bonfires outside had soon slowly burned out. The innate want — no, need — to breed, consistently grew stronger with each passing night; it was a genetic predisposition that he felt like he had been cursed with. If he thought about it for too long, he could feel himself harden and strain against the restraints of his garments. He'd get himself to the point where he'd slowly palm himself, his body growing warm and his breathing quickening, but he'd never finish. It was frustrating from the way he'd get oh so close but he just couldn't cum, no matter how much his cock was twitching or how much his tip was leaking out precum.

It was too shameful, too scandalous.

Gorou wasn't always like this. For the longest time, his urges had always been easy to control. His mind had always been focused on battle positioning plans and extreme training regimes, anything to get the upper hand against the Tenryou Commission. It was like everything in him was suddenly rewired the day you joined the ranks.

Usually it was not his place to oversee newcomers, the lower ranked captains were assigned for that position. However, Her Excellency wanted him to train this group of newbies this time around. She told him that it was the utmost emergency, resources and people were running low and she needed time to gather more support. Gorou would never refuse her request so he obeyed her command, preparing himself with speeches and strategies.

Very few people were willing to go up against the Shogunate and her powerful army; he was the one that had to inspire them and ensure that their minds were set for fighting for what was right. They had to fight, not only for the island but for the people who were currently being persecuted in the Inazuma mainland.

As he approached the training area while reading over the speech, he stopped dead in his tracks. A light scent, almost a sweet floral, lingered in the air. It was a complete contrast against the sweat and dirt so he followed after it, his eyes finally landing on you.

You were sparring with one of the other newbies, pinning him to the ground while laughing. You held your own well, the man was twice your size and there he laid in a dazed confusion. His tail fluffed up as he watched you get up and stretch, the disheveled training uniform pulling up and revealing the smooth skin of your stomach.

He felt himself swallow nervously as you noticed his presence, your body stiffening and going into the position of standing at attention. You were the only one to do so, the others scrambling to copy your actions as they finally realized he was watching them.

It was rare to see women in Watatsumi Island or in the village, much less so his age. Most of them either were dedicated shrine maidens, women who were already happily married, or the elderly taking care of their grandchildren while their parents worked outside of the island. To see you was quite a surprise, especially since the other trainees that surrounded you were all men. There was a small handful of resistance soldiers that were the opposite sex, all working alongside Her Excellency as her advisors.

Gorou had to regain his thoughts, trying to shake out your smell out of his head. He began to speak, slowly pacing back and forth as he recited the whole trainee speech in verbatim, finally turning towards them and saluting a dismissal. The crowd saluted in return, soon dispersing to carry out other assigned duties and he opened his communication box to send back a message to Kokomi when all of the sudden, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

It was the flower-smelling soldier, you. He tried not to stare at you while he was talking but your scent was so enticingly distracting, he couldn't help but take a few glances. You were even prettier up close, the particular aroma was even stronger as you stood in front of him.

"General Gorou sir." You saluted quickly, your posture unwavering. You positioned quite well for a starting soldier, color him impressed.

"At ease. Do you need anything—?" He didn't know your name yet, lightly trailing off. You seemed to catch on with his hesitancy, perking up immediately.

"L/N. Private Y/N L/N. And yes General sir, I would like to ask when will we be doing weapon and hand-to-hand combat training."

"In a few weeks. The skills that we will be teaching this week is all physical activity training. It's quite necessary. It would be pretty embarrassing running down the battlefield and falling just because your body can't hold up the armor." He heard you snort, your hands going over your mouth almost immediately. His face grew warm as he stared at you with wide eyes, your gaze casting itself to the ground.

"Sorry General sir, I couldn't help but laugh."

Gorou's tail started wagging, his hand immediately catching it before it could move any noticeably faster. With his other hand, he placed it on your shoulder and smiled.

"Please, you can just call me Gorou. I'm not fond of formalities when we aren't on the field." Your eyes lit up once more, that was the funny thing about newbies. They always look up to the more skilled seniors, especially if they were a high rank like him.

"Yes sir- Gorou." You corrected yourself quickly, causing him to chuckle. The two of you began to discuss, mostly small talk to fill up the time. It was supposed to be a professional conversation but the more he spoke with you, the more personal he wanted to be. The two of you were soon interrupted however, you were needed by one of the captains. He quickly dismissed you, not wanting for you to get any bad first impressions from his colleagues. He didn't realize that his tail had drooped down low when you disappeared from view, the fur flattened down completely.

As the weeks went by, you proved to be a diligent and hardworking soldier, carrying out tasks with no complaints. During his observations, you rarely had any struggle keeping up with the men, not that it mattered in the first place. You were more nimble than most during close combat and you did better with a polearm than a bow or sword. During those weeks of training, he was only observing you. He swore it wasn't stalking, God forbid.

It was innocent at first, what he thought about you. He liked you, he usually liked all of his subordinates but something felt different about you. Was it because you were the only woman in the ranks at the moment? He wasn't like this around Her Excellency nor her advisors, but that was completely out of respect. Didn't he respect you?

The realization hit him when he saw your hair down one night while making his rounds around the camp. You were returning from the bathhouse, most likely bathing after all the men so you could have the well-needed privacy.

You spotted him first, waving a hand from afar. He only noticed when the floral scent hit him, barely smelling the hint of soap along with it. He finally became aware of the fact that your hair was still damp, pooling down over your shoulders. The moonlight bore down on you, giving you a glow that was absolutely breathtaking and then you smiled.

You smiled and everything suddenly felt tight in his body, as if he was being restrained by his own skin.

Gorou was lucky that it was nighttime and he was a distance away. Any closer and you would have been able to see how red his face had gotten. He'd only seen your hair up, a military standard that must be followed for all who had a hair length that went past their shoulders, so to see you like this left him dumbfounded. He quickly waved back and jogged off to his housing early, feeling his heart beat hard in his chest as he shut the door harder than it needed to.

He went over to sit on his bed, doubling over as he clutched a fist over his chest. His body was warming up and it felt like he couldn't breathe, only able to take in quick, sharp inhales. His mind felt like it was all over the place but still was able to only focus on one thing: you.

It was unethical with what he was feeling. He could only remind himself that he is a general — a rank higher than most — and here he was, thinking about a private. You looked up to him, you were supposed to because he was your leader, your guidance in this kind of world. Yet the way you gazed at him with complete adoration and fascination, the way you cheered praises at him when he showed off during sparring, it was getting to him when it shouldn't. Others had done the same but when it came to you, he just couldn't have enough.

Gorou's body felt like it was on fire and he moved to lay down, wincing when he finally noticed that he was hard. This never happened, this never happens. Maybe he could just sleep it off. In the morning, all of this would be gone. These... feelings.

He couldn't relieve himself. If he touched himself and came, it would be considered a sin. He had no room in his plans to visit the shrine maidens and confess something so innocuous. What would he even say? Forgive me, for I have thought and climaxed to one of my lower subordinates inappropriately. He'd prefer getting incapacitated by General Kujou Sara than say anything relating or similar to that.

He sat up and carefully removed his clothes, shuddering as the chilled air touched his bare skin. The bandages that he wore in his lower half were still intact but there was a definite outline of where his stiffened cock was being restrained. Fuck.

Gorou hesitantly went to trace his fingers along the outline, barely putting any pressure against it before he sharply inhaled, looking over and seeing that he reached the tip. It felt good, the wrappings were thinner than he originally thought. Shame soon shadowed over him, his hand retracting to his side and clenching the once-neatly made sheets. He shouldn't be doing this at all. Not when the origin of this came from a subordinate, a subordinate he shouldn't be thinking of in the first place.

He laid back down and shut his eyes tight, ignoring the panging throbs that were tempted to be relieved. He wouldn't let this issue bother him, so long as he can endure it. If he started something he would regret, then may the fallen god Orobaxi strike him down mercilessly.

Days turned into weeks and then into months. No matter how much he slept it off, tossing and turning restlessly in his bed, he was never able to get you out of his mind. He tried to avoid you as well, attempting to limit the interactions to important business only but it seemed that luck had never been on his side to begin with.

It was you who was always initiating, asking if your form is right as you held up the polearm in a perfect defensive stance, making him come to you and press his body against yours to fix your positioning. It was you who was always questioning whether or not a planned attack was coming soon, eyes lighting up as he mentioned a hint of any sort of battle. It was always you. Even when he was trying to map out positions on where a possible vantage point could be in his housing, he'd hear you approach the door and question him about what was arranged for tomorrow.

Some days, he wouldn't let you in. Gorou would tell you that he's busy at the moment and like a good little soldier, you obeyed his request and began to speak behind the barrier. What you didn't know was that his hand was pressing against his bulge as you spoke, biting his lip as he tried to keep himself quiet. His high morals always bit at him, making it so he could never bring himself to finish, a painful shame bleeding into the depths of his soul.

Whenever he heard your voice, it was like something was injected into his veins every single time you spoke to him. Your smell was even worse for him, his tail curling whenever you passed by him. And those eyes, God those eyes. Staring at him like he was the light of your life, turning into little half moons whenever you smiled at him. Everything about you ignited something truly terrible within him and he was addicted, the feverish heat never truly going away as you finally left his doorstep.

Her Excellency was worried about his change of state, telling him that he can take a break if he needed one. She noticed the sweat pool and drip down his flushed out and dazed face, even when the weather was fair and he barely moved an inch besides the occasional shuffle of his legs and tail. He couldn't, he wouldn't, not when the war was still going on. What would she think if he confessed to her about what he was doing to the thought of one of her soldiers?

You were a compelling distraction. A small bump in the road, a large sinkhole that he was struggling to get out of, slipping in deeper with every miserable attempt. The constant arousal and burning heat had diverted his busy mentality, only focusing on how his cock was aching and stirring for any sort of release. It was to the point where he started missing out on his other job, papers and requests piling up on his desk until his incompetence began to not go unnoticed.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

"My, my, my. I haven't smelled this kind of scent in years, no wonder my best writer has been slacking in his duties." A disappointed but amused tut had Gorou's tail bristling from the sound of a familiar voice, ears flicking and head turning towards the now-opened door. A decorative fan hid her face but he knew all too well who it was based on the red-colored shrine maiden outfit and the long muted pink hair.

"Lady Guuji! You're not supposed to be here on enemy lines." He got up from his desk and quickly closed the door behind her, nails digging into the wood as a pang of warmth ran through his body. Miko closed her fan and walked over to his desk, pushing and prodding papers around with it as she slightly clicked of her tongue. Shit, has he really been that distracted?

"Oh Gorou, as far as I know, the Grand Narukami Shrine sides with no one in this war. I just wanted to see why the aspiring Ms. Hina hasn't been sending over her column responses like usual, you know she's usually so punctual with her postings! But now, I can see — no — smell why." She sniffed the air once more, his cheeks growing redder by the second.

"It reeks of your rutting stench in here, would you be so kind and open up a window for me?"

He obeyed and barely cracked two of his windows open, his tail still puffed up with anxiety as she sighed with displeasure. "You can't just wait this out you silly little pup, you need a release in order for it to go away."

"Re... release?"

Miko blinked once then once more. As if she finally came to a realization, a smug smile grew, her purple eyes glowing with amusement. "Don't tell me this is your first rut, dear Gorou?"

Rut. He heard of it before, the desire to breed whoever his body had chosen as his sworn mate. His father had mentioned it long ago when he was a young teenager but he originally thought that he was excluded from the effects. Why did you have to pop up now, out of all times?

"I'm surprised that you haven't jumped on your beloved leader when it started, I must applaud you for the amount of self-control you have in yourself." Clapping her hands in false praise, he was tempted to snap back at his other boss for assuming that he would ever treat Her Excellency that way when a knock filled the room. Her attention was now at the front door, one of her ears twitching with interest.

"Afternoon Gorou! I have something I want to tell you, may I come in?" He wanted to tear his ears right out of his head, the same uncomfortable warmth bleeding through his skin like an infection. He could already feel the starting familiar stir within the confines of his bandages. He felt like screaming or crying, maybe even both.

Out of all times?! Miko made her way towards the door before he could realize it and nearly opened it, cracks of the outside sunlight peering through. His body collided with the heavy wooden door without him realizing how speedily he reached it, a startled and surprised cry coming out of the other side as he slammed it back shut. Fuck, you sounded so cute.

"Gorou? Are you alright?" You asked, concern lacing within your words and he chuckled internally, already imagining your eyebrows scrunching together.

"Y-yes, I'm fine! Sorry about that, I tripped on my... m-my rut— I mean my rug— yes, my r-rug." He winced afterwards, embarrassed of his unprofessional behavior. A stifled giggle was heard behind him and a low growl came out of him in return, blue eyes narrowed as he shot a look at the pink-haired kitsune.

"Um, okay. Is it fine for me to come in then?" He could feel his hard-on throb, the lack of touch and urge to be in something warm irritating him. Yet the Guuji was still in the room, waiting for him to be finished with this conversation, as much as he still wanted to talk to you. His forehead pressed against the door, eyes closed as he tried to imagine what you looked like behind there.

"No, sorry not today. I-I'm awfully busy, paperwork's been piling up." He was met with silence and then a soft sigh, the tip of his tail twitching.

"Oh. Okay, sorry to bother you again Gorou. I..." There was a light sound of shuffling and two turns, as if you had something else to say. "I'll — um — I'll ask you another day then. Good luck."

The sounds of dirt crushing under your boots slowly began to fade away and he finally let out a relieving sigh, laughter exploding behind him and suddenly all his nerves were on high once more.

"Hah! You haven't chosen the priestess, you chose a soldier. A nice smelling one at least. Why haven't you made your move huh? I'm losing precious Mora because of your interest in her." Miko teased, the sound of her sandals clicking on the floor as she moved around in the small space.

"First of all, I would be abusing my authority. I'd just be taking advantage of her and her respect towards me, God knows if she'd report me for being an absolute disgusting pervert." His fist clenched against the door, waiting for his body to calm down before he faced the fox yokai. Every little cell was begging for him to go and chase after you, to finally, finally claim you as his. A small voice of logic had still made its presence known however, whispering the futures of every consequence that could occur if he had chosen to follow his urges.

"Play your cards right then doggy, you have all the power and control compared to her. And it seems that your patience is waning thin." She ruffled through his bed and with the tips of her fingers, she carefully fished out a small piece of cloth from behind his pillow, a deep color of scarlet burning in his cheeks as he finally turned towards her.

It was an accident, he didn't mean to grab it when he was making his normal rounds. He wasn't supposed to be near the bathhouse but his thoughts were suddenly clouded with a searing appetite, one that he was unable to resist. He didn't even realize that he had grabbed the neatly folded white panty from the bench, his conscious suddenly clearing when the tip of his cock was messily spilling pre-cum all over it when he made it to his home.

Gorou snatched it from her and shoved it into his pocket, a furious snarl suddenly slipping through his bared teeth. He himself jumped at the sheer sound of it, putting another hand over his lips as Miko stared at him in shock before laughing once more.

"This is why I hired you, you keep surprising me general." She sighed pleasantly after, pretending to wipe a tear. She was extremely humored with his heinous actions, as if she didn't care at all that what he was doing was any short of shameful. Miko made her way finally out, her hand on the knob not before looking back at her underling.

"And Gorou?" He flinched, his shoulders tensed.

"Yes?"

"My advice is get rid of your rut, no matter what it takes. You don't want to hurt that little soldier, right? So get her in your bed before your instincts do."

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

Even if Miko had told him he should, Gorou couldn't bring himself to do it.

He had merely yielded, telling Her Excellency that he hadn't been feeling well recently and she agreed to let him sort himself through his "illness". She gave him some remedies and medicines, occasionally checking in on him when she wasn't busy planning. None of her treatments were working but she never gave up. News of him succumbing to a sudden sickness had spread through the ranks but their Divine Priestess had told them not to bother him while he was recovering, which he deeply appreciated.

He had locked himself in whenever she left, placing a chair against the knob to prevent any outsiders from entering and each of the windows were nailed shut. Even if he did open a window for a needed draft, he'd still be burning awfully hot. Plus, he didn't need the others to know why he was moaning and groaning in supposed pain. It sucked, everything about this sucked. Maybe if he had just a small taste of you, everything would go back to normal.

No. From the start, nothing about you was normal to him. Every time he thought about you, the heat would get worse and his already-sore dick would swell back to life. Were you thinking about him right now? Did you miss him? Gorou wasn't the type to get envious easily, but the rise of his rut enhanced those feelings to the max. He despised the image about you moving on to other soldiers, especially the higher ups. None of them were as kind and thoughtful as he was, clawing at his pillows at the idea of your sparkly eyes looking at someone else.

He couldn't do much to keep you away from those men, all he was able to do was finish up what he was behind with for Yae Miko and rest everything away, relieving what he can without a complete release. Would the ache go away if he finally did cum? Ugh, part of him wished she had explained this thing to him more but having your boss explain the birds and the bees for their kind would be horrifyingly embarrassing.

Nighttime rolled into the camp once more, his eyes shut in frustration and his hands restlessly grabbing and pushing around his sheets. He couldn't sleep, the pangs getting worse and his brain continuously fogging. If he went on a walk to try and clear his mind, he didn't trust himself not to walk into the sleeping quarters and not take you right there. So he decided to bathe instead, running cold water until it reached the right amount.

Since he wasn't on duty at the moment, there was no hassle in removing his garments, though he did keep the bandage wrappings on since somewhat helped control his urges. He carefully unraveled the cloth, shuddering as his already hardened cock sprung out of its restraints and lightly tapped against the skin beneath his belly button. Trying to ignore it, he stepped into the tub and sighed in relief as the water chilled his overheated body.

Only a few seconds passed by and he couldn't resist not looking. Observing himself, he felt strangely foreign seeing a swollen ball near the base of his dick as he bathed in the cool water of his tub. It was just as sensitive as the rest of him, exhaling a quiet whimper as his fingers brushed against it. As if something nefarious had suddenly grabbed ahold of him, his hand slowly wrapped around the shaft above the rounded flesh and began to stroke himself, the water rippling as he shivered from the feeling.

This was the first time he ever touched himself in this manner, his head arching against the rim as he tediously ran his thumb over the reddened, leaking tip. Despite the water, he could feel the smooth glide of the slick that was continuously leaking out of him. His canines gnawing at the side of his lips, eyes focused on the languid strokes. It was almost torturously slow pace, a building pressure forming at the pit of his lower abdomen.

This was bad, very bad. He needed to stop right now before he crossed a line into sin, an inescapable downturn into hell itself. But it felt so good, so so good.

Gorou panted, his mind forming the image that you were in the bath with him, that you were the one slowly stroking him off. He could feel the heat crawl up his chest to his cheeks, seeing your hooded gaze on him. Despite your training, your hands were always so soft compared to his callused hands. Was it because of the lotion that you used after bathing? God he missed your scent, the panty that he took was already losing your smell.

He let out a low groan as he thought about your flowery aroma and without thinking, he started to mutter your name. His hips bucked against his hand, the bulbous swelling preventing him from going further down to the base. With every rough movement, the water splashed out of the tub.

He imagined you teasing him, telling him that he's going to run the tub dry if he kept on moving so much. Still pretending that you were his hand, he began to pick up his pace, your name on his lips growing louder and louder. You called him a filthy general, asking him how he could think of you in such a way for a lowly soldier, simple cannon fodder. You then asked him why he decided to steal your used panty and he only could muster up a weak apology. He begged you not to tell the others, not to tell Her Excellency that he wanted you, that he thought of you for so long that it was poisoning him and his very soul. Gorou wanted you so badly but you were unobtainable, someone he could never touch. He loves his job, he really does but he loves you even more.

You finally kissed him, the faint traces of his ghastly imagination touching his lips. His pathetic chanting ceased as a blinding white painted his vision, his face contorting and crying out in agonizing pleasure. The waves of his sudden orgasm flowed through his veins as he gripped the side of the tub. He felt the material crack under his palm, bits of it crumbling onto his fingertips. His ears flattened against the side of his head and his tail had wrapped itself tightly around his leg, his breathing uneven and slow.

Gorou finally opened his eyes, his mouth still parted open in a quiet breathless pant as he looked down into the water. A white substance flowed around him, his red face contorting to mild disgust. Short feelings of drowsiness and a small sense of relief that the pain was gone ebbed throughout his body. He unwrapped his hand from his shaft, slightly twitching from the lost feeling.

In a slow realization, he then registered that the burning simply did not die out. No, it almost felt like it had gotten worse. The warmth crawled up his stomach and flushed around his face, the once-cold water now displeasingly lukewarm. He could imagine the sinking fangs of Orobaxi pierce his soul and label him as tainted, a sinner. A small part of him felt no regret, that this is what was meant to happen but most of him — if not all — had a sinking, devastated feeling. He shouldn't have done this, especially with you in mind.

There was a small knock on the door as he got out of the tub from his second bath, almost inaudible if he hadn't had these ears of his.

Weird. No one should be up around this hour, they would most certainly get in trouble if he catches them. He huffed, rolling his eyes. Pranking the sick general, are we? Gorou quickly wrapped himself up with a towel tightly around his waist, approaching the front door with light caution.

"Hello? State your name and purpose." He called out through the closed door, ears perked and twitching around for any signs of life. Maybe it was just a passing animal.

"Gorou? It's just me, Y/N. Are you okay?" Fuck. He's so utterly fucked.

"Uh y-yeah, why wouldn't I be? You shouldn't be out of the sleeping quarters, I won't be able to save you if you get caught." He tried to be as stern as possible but the growing mass underneath his towel was starting to make it difficult to think.

You softly laughed and he could imagine you shaking your head. "Don't worry, I'm sneakier than you think. And I wanted to check on you because I heard yelling coming from your direction. I... I got worried since you're still ill."

Gorou's heart was leaping out of joy. You were thinking about him? Of course you'd worry about him, it was part of your character wasn't it? He could feel his hands grasp at the chair holding the door, almost tempted to rip it out of the way.

"I know I'm not the best at medicinal assistance like Her Excellency but I want to help you. I feel bad not being able to do much besides train without your guidance." You quietly mentioned and his mind suddenly blanked, the heat crawling up his nerves and limbs.

"I do need your help actually."

"Y-you do? Well, I'll do anything to help you get better sir."

Anything, huh?

Gorou pulled the chair away from the door and opened the door, finally seeing you. The glow of his lantern-lit room highlighted your features, admiring seeing your hair down and your sleeping attire loose on your body. He couldn't be more grateful for your naïve willingness. His little idiotic soldier.

He grabbed your shoulder and tugged you into his home, almost slamming the door shut before you could have any change of mind. Your eyes widened as you soon realized that he was fully exposed, his towel barely covering his throbbing lower half. He let you drink in the scars and the muscles he's worked hard to achieve before he finally made a move.

"Wha—" Barely a sound was able to escape you before he collided his lips against yours, bodies toppling over into the wooden ground. In the haze of his lust, he felt terrible that you may have hit your head onto the ground but your mouth was so warm and your lips were so plush that all of his empathy was washed away.

His hands grabbed at the thin pajama pants the military provided for every soldier and ripped them off of you. He made quick work at removing his towel, his heavily aroused cock springing out and brushing against your covered cunt. He could see through hooded eyes that although you were most definitely confused, your fear could barely hide the arousal pooling behind your pupils.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He whispered frantically against your lips as he tore off the white panties, almost salivating as he felt his tip catch onto your bare warmth. A few ruts against your pussy lips and he could already feel some slick gather against his shaft, not knowing if you were getting aroused or that was just his own pre-cum leaking down and making a complete mess.

Slowly or at least, as slowly as he thought he was going, he pushed the head inside. A long and relieved whine came out of him and your back arched, body pressing against his as you cried out from the sudden intrusion. Swiftly, his mouth enveloped yours to quiet you down. It would be a shame if any other soldiers made their way to his home, but then again, he could make them disappear without a single trace left behind. Curiosity is such a fickle thing to have as a soldier, it could end them up dead in a nameless pit or in your instance, speared by a horny general.

His head threw back as he began to thrust shallowly in quick succession, the knot preventing him from going any deeper much to his displeasure. Gorou had never felt such an indulgence in his life, he thought his little session in the tub earlier was everything but this? He could live with the sins building upon his shoulders as long as he could relish in your warmth for eternity.

Your hands gripped on the rug above you, clawing and grasping at it for dear life, moaning aloud as his cock dragged against your walls. The blouse that you were wearing was slowly loosening with every sharp movement he made against you, revealing your chest that he could never bear to look at before. He peeled back the fabric and grabbed one of your breasts, squeezing once before leaning in and sucking on the pert nipple.

His tail twitched in bold satisfaction as you started to whine out his name, begging him to go deeper.

"Yeah? You want that soldier?" His voice rumbled against your nipple, feeling you clench around his shaft as he spoke.

"Y-yes! Please, please just a little more." Obeying, he snapped his hips harder against the plushness of your thighs, the knot pushing and budging against your tight hole. You hissed at the sudden realization of the circular muscle swollen around the bottom of his shaft, but you didn't try to stop him.

Would it fit? No, it had to fit. You will fit him. His hands grabbed your hips, pulling you in until you were flushed against his waist. His mouth left your chest, moving towards muscle in between your neck and shoulder. Gorou wasn't going to leave you unmarked, the whole goddamn camp was going to know who he knocked his pups into. It would serve some good to the island, Orobaxi would be pleased to have new followers right?

"Gonna fuck — hah — gonna fuck you up, breed you full of cum. You're my mate, mine." He growled into your ear before he bit down into your flesh. At the same time, he forced his knot into you and clawed the plushness of your hips.

Your pussy stretched and gripped around the enlarged knot, trying to accommodate the sudden thickness. He could barely see your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you came, your walls spasming and milking his cock for his hot cum. Wanton moans were the only noise you were able to make as he continued to fuck deeply into you, his tongue licking at the inflicted mark.

The same pressure in his lower stomach that he felt in the tub overrode his system and he pushed his dick in a little more, feeling the tip hit against a barrier. White stars blinded his vision immediately, his body shivering and shaking as he came hard into your womb. He took in heavy breaths, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

The burning was gone, he could finally feel the air in his room as it cooled down both of your bodies. It was gone but he wasn't done yet, no, he was far from it. Now that he had finally had a taste, he wasn't going to let you leave, not when he had bound himself to you. Figuratively and literally.

His pupils were blown out with pleasure, the blue color barely making its presence known as he began to kiss up your neck. You were barely there, eyes heavy with sleep but still groaning as he began to move once more, walls too sensitive to handle anymore. That's okay, he would breed you in your sleep if he had to.

" 'm gonna put more pups into you." His words slurred as he lazily thrusted, his knot pulling and pushing into a particular nerve bundle. You could only whine in agreement, completely engrossed and fucked out on his cock as you quivered from the stimulation.

Gorou will take real good care of you. What was he thinking before? A general always will need his soldier, what a fool he was for trying to believe that he never wanted you. A rope can only be tightened so much before it inevitably snaps. You belonged here in his home, warming his bed so he could take you whenever he returned from the battlefield. He picked his head up from your neck, kissing you deeply once more.

You were truly a heaven-sent blessing, weren't you? As fate may have it, he had hope that Orobaxi and Her Excellency would bless the both of you with a beautiful litter.

[superblysubpar]

🥺 so um for your dad blurbs, what about like a lil ‘meet cute’ sitch with singledad!eddie x singlemom!reader. maybe their lil toddlers become friends on the playground or somethin’?? idk idk feel free to ignore me!! 💗

cece um what? why why why would I ignore you or this?! Sorry this one too got away from me, I can't seem to write teeny tiny blurbs guys. Thank you so much for requesting and I hope you like it! 💛dad blurbs

summary: see above Eddie deals with his daughter throwing a tantrum but - this is fluff warnings: single mom reader, descriptions of wiggling worms and reader touching them so if you ain't into bugs sorry | even if a fic is not marked 18+, my blog is - please respect this

1.5k words

Why Do Worms Exist?

singledad!eddie munson x singlemom!reader

Hands tugging at his curls in impatience as he juggles the backpack, the keys, the twelve leaves left in his custody and the angry toddler in his arms. 

“Down!” she tugs harsher and he huffs. 

Haircuts and baths seemed to be the only time his kid felt like reminding him that she was in fact his kid. Squirming and wrestling and shrieking loud enough the glass on the apartment windows could pop. He was grateful for his daughter, don’t get him wrong. Reminding himself whenever the demon possessed her during those moments that she’d be his quiet and wonderful kid again soon. 

But no one could have predicted that walking and exploring and learning would hit around the same time as Autumn in Hawkins - well okay, maybe someone else could have other than him. But no one, including Eddie could have foreseen that his unique and already quirky baby girl would be fascinated by any and everything that season had to offer her. And, really, how could he have predicted the meltdowns about these things when he told her she couldn’t take them all home with her?

Fucking leaves. 

And worms. Why’d his kid have to like worms? 

Maybe that was his own fault for calling her Bug. Were worms bugs? Were they their own…species? Jesus Christ he barely got his diploma and now here he is with a kid having a level thirteen meltdown about leaves. What happened when she got older and had questions about these things she found fascinating and he had nothing to offer her? Maybe Dustin would have a book on it. Or Robin. She’s into weird stuff and random facts. 

Eddie sucks in his breath as Sam yanks one curl particularly hard and realizes that if it’s bad now, the very near future of Spring would be even worse. And oh god, the rain and the mud and even more worms and his heart starts racing faster as he thinks about how much bigger she’d be come then. She’d put up even more of a fight. 

He finally gets the pack over his shoulder, the keys tucked safely in a pocket. Sammy’s butt supported under his arm and his hand with the leaves wrapped around her back. Twelve leaves - they’d barely made it down the sidewalk. 

She pushes against his chest, cheeks red and flushed to match her bright red rain boots dangling and kicking dangerously close to unwanted territory and he winces, “Hey, hey, watch it Bug. Getting too close for comfort there.”

Eddie knows she didn’t catch any of that and her tiny hands wind fists into his hair and her chin wobbles as he prepares for the wail to come and he squeezes his eyes shut. Only to be met with fiercer squirming and a head butt to his jaw that makes his ears ring, “Ouch! Sammy, come on, you can get down soon!”

He didn’t yell, but he definitely raised his voice more than he meant to. Sam cries and cries like he’d seen other kids do when heading in the opposite direction of the park. As they round the corner he can see the bright reds, yellows, and blues of the slides and jungle gym.

“Look, Bug, swings,” trying and failing to calm her down with a favorite word and activity. He sighs as other parents look his way as he gets closer. Sure, his kids shrieking was disturbing the peace but theirs screaming on the playground was fine. Gossiping and judging girls from high school who grew up into moms but didn’t outgrow anything else.

He sits on the bench as Sammy pulls and yanks more, closing his eyes again. Eddie presses his forehead to hers, wincing every time she hits against it. He speaks quietly, “Bug, come on, listen to daddy. Calm down.” 

He sets the leaves on the bench and the crying stops almost instantly. He opens his eyes, Sam’s temple to his nose, crocodile tears trailing down her cheeks and tiny chubby hands reaching towards the pile. 

“Leeb,” she hiccups and grabs at the pile. 

Eddie holds her in a firm lock, hand rubbing soothing circles up and down her back, “Leaf?”

She grunts, trying to squirm away again and she whines, “Pwease!”

Heart aching because she’s trying to say please, and she knows that’s the nice way to ask as she calms down. But god, he can’t have her bringing home every leaf from the park.

“Bug,” he taps the pile, “Leaves stay here. Not coming home with us. Leaves stay outside.” 

She huffs and he watches in wonder and awe as she nods and whispers, “Owside leebs.”

He grins. He did it. He dealt with a tantrum while judgey moms watched and his daughter is smart. She understood so much and she was probably gonna be a scientist or some crazy awesome shit he couldn’t even come up with. 

Eddie kisses her nose and wipes her cheeks with his thumbs, body relaxing, “Right. Outside leaves. Ready to go play?”

She shimmies out of his grasp, legs dangling until her boots hit the ground and she wanders toward the playground only to pick up a stick. Poking at the dirt and he covers his smile when she sits. Her plaid jumper and tights dragging and collecting all the dirt and leaves they can manage. 

A little boy sits next to her and she smiles at him, a dimple popping out and extending a stick to him like Eddie had taught her to share. He swallows harshly when she grabs his hand and they waddle to a particularly muddy puddle. 

Oh fuck. She’s gonna get even older and the meltdowns aren’t gonna be about fucking worms they’re gonna be about boys or drinking or-

“You look like you’re dealing with some extreme and sudden realizations right now.”

Eddie glances up to see you standing near his bench, smiling kindly and a cup of coffee in your hands. He’s taken aback one because an adult is talking to him instead of standing off to the side and judging and two because holy shit were you pretty. 

He gulps audibly, “I-uh,” he glances back at his daughter who’s fully laying in the dirt on her stomach now and he smiles, “Yeah, uh I guess you could say that.”

Gesturing to his kid and the little boy, “I see yours is corrupting mine. Believe it or not we’d managed to stay away from dirt until today.”

Eddie grins widely, “Well wait till he finds all the things crawling around in the dirt and wants to take them home.”

Your gloved hand presses to your cheek, dragging it down as you groan loudly, “Why do worms exist?”

He watches you watch the kids, your face melting into warmth and that sappy wow that’s mine look he knows he gets with Sammy all the time. He’s a goner if you’re single. 

Gesturing to the bench and scooting over he sighs, “Pretty sure only to torture parents.”

“Great. Can’t wait,” you deadpan and sit, removing your gloves and extending a hand to him and introducing yourself.

Just because there isn’t a ring doesn’t mean anything. He shakes it back, “Eddie.” 

Nodding your head to the little boy who’s flinging dirt around wildly with his stick, “That’s Parker. My right hand guy.”

Eddie straightens and sees the webs across the backpack you’re stuffing the gloves in and smirks, “As in Peter?”

Clearing your throat and taking a sip of your coffee before continuing, “Yeah, I’m shameless. I named my kid after my favorite superhero, okay? I was alone and drugged up on all the painkillers they could legally give me.”

Alone. 

He waves his hand, “It’s okay, mine's after a Lord of the Rings character.”

You smile at him, shy and sweet. He should just ask right? Or offer up his own information. Is it like just sharing your phone number with a girl? Hey, I’m Eddie, I’m a single parent are you? Not sure what’s about to come out of his mouth, but he’s stopped as his daughter decides she wants to be the worst wingwoman on planet earth right at that moment. 

“Hole pwease,” her tiny voice brings his attention down, extending her dirt smothered hands out to you.

Your mom instincts kick in, holding out your hands like it’s nothing but Eddie knows exactly what Sammy is about to drop in your hands. He’s not quick enough when he leans forward though, 

“No, Bug, don’t-”

Several squirming worms drop down into your palms and he watches your eyes go wide. You don’t freak out or grimace though, instead you smile and extend your hands out further when your son drops more into the pile. 

Your smile is bright, cheeks popping and eyes shimmering and your laugh swirls around his heart as you speak to them in a way that makes his stomach flutter, “Woah you guys! Look at all these awesome worms!”

He watches in awe as you ask their names and sit patiently with wiggling worms in your hands as they point and poke at them and his daughter holds one up closer to your face and your eyes go wide and she giggles.

He’s a total and absolute goner.