#and sir…I apologize for ever doubting you

[o-wild-west-wind]

all I can say is…elphaba and fiyero being as good as confirmed bi for bi & autistic/adhd solidarity? I’ve never felt so validated in my LIFE

[sunshine-on-marz]

The brightest

Aaron Hotchner x Sunshine!Reader

In which Hotch’s grumpy reputation may be on the line

Dedicated to my pookie bestie boo @st4rgzer

The Aaron Hotchner had smiled 6 times in 2 days. Spencer counted. It also just so happened that you joined the BAU 2 days ago. You’d transferred from a different unit, where you only worked for a few weeks before they suggested you move to the behavioral analyst unit, namely because you kept profiling, very accurately, and completely on accident. Well it wasn’t exactly an accident, but you had no clue you could make reading people a job, it was always just something you did. It was honestly insanely impressive. What might be more impressive is just how much you lit up the bureau from the moment you walked in. Your smile far brighter than the painfully fluorescent lights, and from the moment Hotch greeted you he knew he was in trouble

Something about your everything has him absolutely enthralled. The way you absentmindedly fidgeted with your shirt, your smile, your laugh, the small comments and jokes you make during conversations, all the small favors you do for the team, all of it had him head over heels.

The rest of the team was starting to get weirded out. In this very moment Emily was trying her best to explain to you that no, Hotch isn’t ‘nice’. He’s caring and fatherly but he’s not ‘nice’. “Honestly it’s really really insane that you’re calling him nice and it’s even more insane that you’re not wrong, I’ve literally never seen him be this nice for this long” she explains, Derek walking up behind her “we talkin about Hotch’s crush on the new kid?” He asks, leaning on the back of Emily’s chair before looking up at you “hey sugar” he says, you wave at him through your laughter. “Guys I highly doubt he has a crush on me” you explain “maybe he just likes me.. as a person” you explain. “Y/n he practically has heart eyes when he talks to you” JJ butts in, Spencer lifting his hand with a thumbs up. Just then Rossi walks in “are any of you working?” He asks, Emily answers “we’re working on convincing y/n that Hotch is in love with them”, Rossi just laughs. Which says a lot more then his words ever could. “See?!” Derek shouts, gesturing to Rossi who’s still laughing to himself.

“See what?” Hotch’s voice rang through the bullpen from where he stood at the balcony infront of his office. “Nothing!” Everyone said in unison, other than you, you just sat with a confused, but amused look on your face. “Y/N, my office” Hotch said, Emily and Derek having to cover their mouths to keep from laughing. You, albeit nervously, walk upstairs and to Hotch’s office. “Sir” you say softly as you walk into his office, he follows behind you. “You’re not in trouble” he says, chuckling softly as he watches your shoulders relax. “That’s good- no actually that’s the best thing I’ve heard all day” you say, exasperated and relieved. “I wanted to make sure you were settling in well” he says, you smile “oh yea it’s been great!” you smile “everyone’s been absolutely lovely! You weren’t lying when you said it’s a family here”, he smiles softly “it’s good to know you’re feeling included” he says, he slides you over a peice of paper. “The higher ups want us to start getting written statements from the new hires, to make sure everything’s running smoothly, would you mind filling this out for me?” He asks, you nod, he starts again “well excuse me for a second” he says as he walks out of his office, closing the door behind him and starring at his team who were all standing as close to the wall as possible without being in the window. “Will you all mind your own business?” He says, a sea of small agreement and apologizing spilling from the team as they walk off, only Rossi staying behind. “Yes?” Hotch says, raising an eyebrow as he waits for Rossi’s inevitable, and probably sarcastic, remark. “Let them get through the first week before you ask them out” Rossi says, laughing to himself as he walks away, Hotch just smiles, once again reminded of the downside of working with profilers.

I genuinely didn’t know how to end this sorrrrrrryyyyyyyyyy!!!!

I love you guys so so so much!

Remember to reblog and tell me what you thought of the fic!! Reblogs and feedback make the world keep spinning!!

[devilander]

rain falls in love

homelander x gn reader. fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of past abuse

Cozy Corner Domaystic: Thunderstorm

You were a light sleeper. Even minor disturbances would wake you instantly; your cat meowing, a neighborhood’s TV turned on, cars passing through the street. Whenever Homelander and you slept together you couldn't help but be slightly envious of how he could turn off the whole world—he slept like a stone, slept like the dead. 

Today, though, you doubted many could sleep through the thunderstorm that split New York’s sky. Each thunder louder than the other, sequences of lightning turning the apartment clear as day. And, courtesy of your boyfriend's gigantic windows, you felt enclosed in the roar of the night. 

For some, it could be an entertaining spectacle; nature's power a soothing balm, a way to make you contemplate how much of your worries were small and ephemeral—in the end, there was only the earth and the rain. 

You could, in theory, see the poetry of it. But all you felt was an overwhelming fear. The loud noises reminded you of your father's booming voice, the cracking of electricity too similar to his heavy hands landing on you. 

John was away, having left a week ago in some undisclosed mission. Undisclosed to the public, of course, because he told you in detail how, actually, he was going to take part in a non-authorized invasion of a terrorist cell. Or so he called it. 

You were alone. Only you and the storm and Popsicle purring in your lap, indifferent to his surroundings. 

After another furious thunder nearly frightening you to death, you decided to call John. Tears streamed down your face and you felt ridiculous—it’s only rain. And yet. 

He probably wouldn't pick up. If he did, he'd be too busy, what could he do?

In the first ring, however, he answered. “Hello, sweet face. Awake at this hour?”

“Oh, it's nothing.” You tried to disguise your sniffles, suddenly beyond embarrassed. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Silence, and then—

“Is it the storm, sweetheart?”

“Yes, yeah. I can't sleep, it keeps reminding me of… you know. I'm sorry for bothering you.”

“Don't you ever apologize to me for that, ever,” he retorted, voice tinged with anger, though you knew it wasn't aimed at you. 

“Can we—” Another thunder, and this time you yelped, scaring Popsicle so that he ran to hide under the bed. “God, I hate this,” you whimpered. “I just want you here. I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too, you precious thing. Fuck, this is bullshit. A fucking week here and we accomplished shit. They sent me the most incompetent team of motherfuckers, I'm up my ass with their whining and ‘but sir, mister Edgar said we should be cautious’.”

You laughed. “Sounds like a trifle.”

“Ugh, fucking tell me about it. A week without you for this bullshit. Y’know what, I'm out. Hold on there, honey, I'll be with you in a moment.” 

And he hung up. And the storm raged on, but you felt a giddy warmness settling on you. 

Not before long, he barged in, completely wet, but you couldn't care less. You ran to his arms, letting the raindrops seep through your clothes as tangible proof of his devotion. 

“You didn't need to come.”

“Ah, but I promised, didn't I? I'll be with you anytime you need me, and you need me now, don't you?”

You giggled, forgetting all about the fears. It was washed over. “I do. And you need a hot bath.”

“Hmph. You too, little baby. C’mon, join me.”

You sat behind him in the tub, washing his hair, enjoying every second of this quiet moment. He moaned at the contact and squeezed your thigh as it circled his waist. 

If the storm was a demonstration of nature's power, John was both its likeness and antithesis—he himself was a force to be reckoned with, an amalgamation of sheer strength and might. Created by men, but a victim of them. You could understand that, quite intimately.

He gave you security in his power, and you gave him peace in your tenderness—the value of a whisper to a snowbank. 

“John,” you whispered. “I love you. I'll keep you forever, because you belong to me and I to you. Will you let me?”

You felt, more than you saw, his deep breath, swallowing back tears you knew were spilling down his cheeks. You didn't care what they said, what he did looking back in anger, because this was the only truth. 

“Yeah…” He choked up, but soldiered on. “Yeah, my love. I'm never letting you go. I fucking love you to pieces.”

As you lay in bed together you decided—in the end, there was only he and you. 

[cinnamonest]

Uhtceare

Yandere Ayato x Reader - "Failed escape attempt" series

(I still cannot publish posts that have people tagged. I don't know why, it just gives me an error popup saying it couldn't be processed. Apologies to those in my taglist.)

Warning: DARK CONTENT, noncon/dubcon, implications of forced/coerced marriage, masturbation voyeurism that’s also kinda forced, manipulative use of mental health and problematic way of addressing it, gaslighting and psychological manipulation, implied future forced drugging, there’s just a lot of my man being awful here

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

“Ah, there you are.”

Of course. He would be right there at the entrance waiting, wouldn’t he.

You were hoping to get a few more seconds to put off the inevitable, but the reality of your situation was not so kind as to grant you that. It was all far too fast — the full events of the night before, the journey of being dragged back here — flanked on all sides by doushin all the while — all went by in a blur, leading up to this very dreaded moment.

You kept your gaze turned to the ground, unable to bring yourself to make eye contact. Your fingers curled, digging into the fabric around your thighs.

Nonetheless, without even hesitating nor willing it, you found your feet moving on their own. Perhaps it was instinct, to get away from the unfamiliar men that made you so uncomfortable and uneasy, and into the arms that, despite everything, were at least familiar, and thereby a comfort at the end of your long trial of distress and misery. Maybe you knew it was expected, and feared some consequence for not acting as you knew you should. Or maybe some of both.

Regardless, your feet shuffled forward, any thoughts muted in favor of instinct as you bounded over towards your husband — as much as you hated to acknowledge it, your one source of comfort. As you grew close, he reached an arm out, hand firmly planting itself on your back and pulling you in. Perhaps out of that same sense of fear at the thought of disobeying expectations, perhaps out of pure exhaustion, you allowed it without struggle coming to stand directly by his side, grasping at his clothes, burying your head against him and squeezing your eyes shut as if it would obscure the others’ view of you.

“I can’t thank you enough. You have no idea how worried I was about her,” he spoke to the arrangement of men now standing a ways away, moving his hand on to rest atop your head. “I apologize for the inconvenience. The poor thing gets a bit irrational from time to time. You know how it is.”

The other men only gave a brief, curt sound of acknowledgement. One, the own standing closest to the two of you based on how close the voice sounded, seemed to deem it appropriate to give at least some response. “Of course, sir.”

Not that that actually made any sense, that such a bizarre thing to say could ever warrant an ‘of course’ as a reply. But they weren’t there to be sensible, to assess the situation and act according to any supposed principles. To help. They were there only to follow through with an assigned task, one that they had not even tried to conceal in their expressions and tones towards you was an unwanted inconvenience, and to turn a blind eye to any conclusions they might draw.

Maybe that too was intentional — the estate lord could have easily sent his private forces to be the ones to escort you back to the estate, yet he chose to allow the public law enforcement to return you. Perhaps he knew you’d grown to resent the family’s private forces, and thereby had no issue inconveniencing them, whereas he knew you’d feel more embarrassment and guilt having strangers be forced to bring you all the way back… yes, the more you thought about it, that certainly seemed like that was his intent.

“I hope she didn’t give you too much trouble?”

“Not at all, sir.”

“Ah, I see, that’s good to hear.”

Your hands balled into fists.

The whole show made of it all was utterly humiliating — that too no doubt the intention — but you had no choice but to stand there. Doing something rash like running off to hide yourself from the embarrassment would only meet a worse consequence later.

The burning, bitter anger only made said embarrassment that much worse. It was consuming, maddening. Everything — this place, these people, their words and their attitudes, their dismissal of you as if you were a child or an animal — it made you so damn mad, and yet, you could do nothing but endure.

Your eyes burned. You blinked a few times in rapid succession. You couldn’t forgive yourself if you actually cried in front of these strangers. The back-and-forth between the two parties continued, but you did your best to tune out the words, knowing that listening would only hurt you further.

It wasn’t until there was movement that you returned your attention to them, pulling your head away from him to look — now they were turning, walking away.

Leaving you alone with him.

You then dared not avert your eyes from the ground, watching the men from your peripheral vision as they made their way down the path, growing smaller and smaller and they moved further away, until their footsteps were no longer audible.

All that remained was a heavy, palpable tension.

Avoidance was the easiest path — a foolish choice, of course, which you knew full well. It wasn't as if you could avoid the present reality forever, but nonetheless, you found yourself clinging to each precious second that ticked by, body growing stiffer as you braced yourself for the inevitable. Perhaps you could trick yourself into believing that if you just kept your gaze turned to the ground, nothing would happen.

But sure enough, you clenched your jaw as his hand moved upwards, and came to rest on your shoulder.

“Come on now. You're certainly tired. Let’s get you to rest for a while.”

His voice only made your stomach twist further. It was calm and gentle, not explosive or infuriated. It would have felt more assuring that way, if your fear could just be easily confirmed, rather than a calculated calm that felt far more dreadful and foreboding than any rage.

His hand moved from your shoulder, coming down to grasp your wrist. It wasn’t a sudden, harsh motion, nor was the grip itself strong enough as to be painful — but it was noticeably firm.

And then, he pulled. A soft tug, pulling you in the direction of the doors.

Your resistance was not a conscious choice, not something you thought about nor had any time to do so; it was only a reflex. Instinctively, your body stiffened, your feet dug into the ground, and thus his pull was met not with the meek obedience that was expected of you, with footsteps that followed where you were guided, but instead a firm resistance.

Your own realization of that resistance, what you’d just done, sent a sharp rush of fear through your veins.

And thus, for the first time since arriving, your gaze tilted upward, and your wide, frightened eyes met his.

His expression shifted. The amiable, pleasant smile half-faded, still present, but only barely.

“…Don't be difficult. Come on.”

Likewise, his voice dropped far lower, a dark and foreboding tone far removed from the one he’d spoken with just moments ago to the other men.

Your mouth opened, instinctively wanting to reply, but you couldn't summon a coherent thought. You were afraid, you were angry, you were so, so embittered and ashamed and wanted nothing more than to run to your room, close your eyes and burrow into the bed.

And for a moment, you considered the compliant option. If you just lowered your head and followed along, apologized and insisted you were just being petty or immature or whatever he would call it this time, and took whatever consequence was handed out, then you could do just that, confine yourself to your bed and try to forget it all.

But the shame only fueled the fury, like gasoline to a fire. It was his fault. As scared of punishment as you were, your pride could not stand for simply bowing your head, and as your mind raced, the sheer fury you’d been stewing in all throughout the night before, all the angry words you’d monologued in your head and vowed to spew at him when you saw him again, all came rushing back.

You swallowed, fingers curling even harder around the fabric around your thighs. Now that it was just the two of you, although you still fought it as best as you could, you couldn’t help that your eyes watered, burning as your vision blurred out of pure frustration and misery.

“I… I know you did all of this on purpose! I only got all the way out there because you let me, a-and…”

The words came out in a trembling, wavering voice, far weaker than intended.

He exhaled a heavy sigh, closing his eyes in frustration. His voice was still characteristically gentle, but you could hear his patience waning. “We can discuss this inside.”

“But I—”

“Inside.”

You stiffened, freezing in place. That was not a tone you heard often in your married life, more firm than normal.

You swallowed, gaze darting to the ground again, unable to summon a reply and not wanting to make eye contact again. With another heavy exhale, he pulled at your arm with a gentle tug, and this time, you followed, feet quickly shuffling behind his.

You didn’t say a word, though, through the full minute or so of walking across the courtyard, through the front doors, down the hall, only dimly lit today due to curtains hanging over the windows lining the walls. It occurred to you with a sinking feeling in your stomach that you were headed straight for your shared bedroom, rather than one of the estate’s many drawing rooms and lounges, which meant the anticipated conversation to come would be one you’d both want kept in privacy. Your stomach felt as if it were turning in knots, your chest compressed by an unseen force, each breath feeling strenuous and weighted.

And then, finally, you both came to a halt as you reached the last room at the end of the hall. You felt helpless, unable to do anything as you watched the handle of the door turn, stumbling in as you were guided forward by the hand that came to gently press on your lower back.

Likewise, equally pitifully, you could do nothing but stand there and wait as you listened for the door to close behind you, clenching your jaw at the trepidation in your chest from the footsteps on the floor behind you, but made sure to not let your fear swallow your fury.

“Now,” he began slowly as he moved around you to the other side of the room, voice now back to its usual tone, but still firm nonetheless, “I can tell you have a great deal you want to get off your chest, but you’ll have to forgive me for a moment… your well-being is my primary concern.” He looked you up and down, and his voice took on a note of concern that admittedly sounded sincere. “You aren’t hurt in any way, are you, dear?”

You bit your lip at the affectionate term, and more importantly, at how unbothered he came across. Granted, you now knew just how much of the past twelve hours or so had been entirely within his control, so it made sense that he was never genuinely distressed, but admittedly, it was also disappointing. Part of you wanted him to have been panicked and worried, to get the satisfaction of knowing you’d successfully gotten under his skin.

Still, you shook your head, keeping your gaze to the ground as you gave a curt, frustrated reply. “No.”

“Good,” his eyes closed for a moment, taking a heavy breath of pause. “Well, in that case…” He leaned back against the wall, folding his arms. “I believe this would be the best time to give you a moment to explain yourself.”

You couldn’t miss the obvious foreboding in his voice, nor the way it made your body stiffen.

But you had already prepared for that — you knew it would be intimidating, that it would be awkward and shameful, but you had spent the previous few hours trying to preemptively harden your resolve against that. Besides, after it was interrupted earlier, you now had the chance to get back to what was essentially the pre-written script you’d memorized in your head of exactly every little thing you wanted to say to him.

Unfortunately, as it turned out, the you that was standing there in front of him was significantly less brave than the ‘you’ in the scenes you’d played out in your head on the journey home.

Still, you clenched your hands into fists, thinking you had to at least force him to acknowledge the one point you’d deemed most important.

“You let me leave.”

In your mind, you’d spoken with a bold voice and looked him directly in the eye… and while the same words came out of your mouth, they were instead said with a weak, shrill attempt at an accusatory tone, pathetically looking to the wall as you found yourself unable to summon the gall to look up, once more lacking the firm accusation and self-assuredness your imaginative self had had.

He tilted his head. “That’s not a very accurate way to put it. I never granted you any such permission… I was simply aware of your intent to run off, and didn’t stop you.”

For a moment, you contemplated asking how he knew — but you had a feeling the answer would only make you more upset. His voice was laden with a faux sincerity, a sort of disingenuousness that made your blood boil, enough to embolden you further as you continued.

“And you… you had people following me the whole time, I know you did!” Your voice began to get louder as you grew bolder, bitter anger strengthening you against any trepidation. “They didn't even do a good job! I started noticing them towards the end of it!”

"Well, that would be because they were specifically told that concealment was not necessary.” He kept up the dry manner of speech, seemingly unbothered by your fury. “They deserve a break from high effort jobs every now and then, surely you understand. Besides, they didn’t directly interfere with your little outing, yes?”

He was so calm in contrast to your visible irritation, no doubt at least in part deliberate. It only served to make you even more mad.

“They told the local doushin to — no, you told them to tell them! There’s no other way that could have happened! I-I, I got," in sheer frustration, you jerked your fists in a sharp downward motion, "arrested!"

“I’m very well aware.”

“They put me in jail!”

“I do believe that is the standard process for an arrest, yes.”

“I was all by myself for hours!”

“Naturally. I couldn’t allow you to be placed with any dangerous persons, that’s why you were put in a solitary space.”

You clenched your fists so hard they trembled. “You, y-you let me get that far in the first place, and, and…” A lump formed in your throat again, which you did your best to suppress. “…Just to make me go through all that… I was there for hours before they came for me…” Your face scrunched up as you fought the urge to cry.

You hung your head, shoulders falling as you let your body relax, the fuse of anger burning out as it turned to a quiet bitterness swelling in your stomach. What was even the point? You knew better than to think your emotions would be given any weight, treated as anything beyond trivial.

A few moments of quiet passed, perhaps to see if you would say anything more, or perhaps just to force you to wait in uncomfortable uncertainty. After a moment, he shifted his posture slightly before unfolding one arm, holding out his hand in a standard gesture of speech.

“And what have we learned?”

You never would have thought one question could send such a spark of fury through your body in a single moment. Everything, from the wording to the timing to his tone, felt utterly mocking, infantilizing in a way that made you seethe.

You swallowed, practically trembling. “That you’ll go to any lengths to humiliate me?”

He returned the extended arm to its former position, exhaling heavily, straightening his stance. “It's rather unfair to assume I had such malicious intent. Stopping you early on in the past has clearly not worked in the long term, so further measures were necessary.” He tilted his head to meet your averted gaze, reflexively turning your attention back to him, eyes connecting with yours. “My only intention was that you would have some time to reflect on your series of decisions… and hopefully return with a change of heart. These episodes of yours are worrisome.” He gave a brief pause before finishing, “claiming I had cruel intent when you know in your heart that I only arranged this because I care for you… that's rather harsh, isn't it?”

You clenched your jaw, refusing to acknowledge the notion that the words were genuine. Admittedly having fallen for the words die a moment, you mentally shook off the momentary feeling of guilt.

These situations always went the same way, you'd be driven to apologize and feel bad about your choices. You had never met anyone else in your life with such a mastery of speech-craft as to be able to control your emotions and actions with words as easily as if it were pushing buttons on a machine. The first few times, you'd actually fallen for it, found yourself completely malleable, psyche bending and shifting to another's whims. At least with time, you'd become more resilient, had learned to notice and recognize the attempts… so you believed.

You opted to avoid answering the quesiton. Instead of acknowledging his own words, you turned to another matter that had come to mind during your escapade.

“Aren’t you abusing your authority? How are you even allowed to do this to begin with?!”

He took another deep breath, as if it were a trivial matter, or one that shouldn’t necessitate explanation.

“It’s… complicated, but the law does fully permit estates to employ local forces to locate any missing property belonging to the estate… people employed or bound to it are a sort of grey area in that regard.” After a moment of pause, he added, “besides, I also made it very clear that you were not in your right mind at the time, so your wellbeing was of immediate concern, and they were happy to help.”

“What?” The anger in your tone only rose. “I was perfectly in my right mind, you, you… a-and I’m not…”

A few moments passed as you trailed off, having to pause to collect yourself, blink away frustrated tears.

He opened his mouth as if to respond, but seemed to decide against whatever he'd considered saying, closing his eyes and taking a breath before finally replying in a more exasperated tone.

“You're making yourself upset needlessly. I can only do so much… in the end, I only wanted to keep you safe. You have to be the one to accept the grace you're given. Wouldn't that be easier for you?”

There was still unease to his tone, but the way he said it was nonetheless indicative of a sort of tiredness, as if not wanting to carry on about the matter anymore. It almost sounded like he was saying that you “accepting” his “grace” was all that was required to bury the matter entirely.

You spoke slowly, cautiously.

“You’re not… mad?”

“…I never said that.” He shifted away from leaning against the wall, standing upright. ”Of course, I can’t allow this to go entirely unacknowledged.”

He took a few steps towards you, and you fought the urge to step back, keeping your arms rigidly straight at your side as he continued.

“Normally, a proper form of consequence would be in order… however, after consideration, I realized that this was in large part my own fault, and I owe it to you to take responsibility for that.”

The words took you by surprise. The idea that he was in any way acknowledging that he had any responsibility for what you did was baffling, all things considered. He had never once even acknowledged that refusing to let you leave the estate was essentially holding you prisoner, and usually insisted that everything he did was what was best for you, even if, as he seemed to believe was the case, you did not understand that.

You hesitated before replying. “What… what do you mean?”

He flashed you an amiable smile. “A lesser person would only act on their momentary frustrations, but I’m not the sort of person who acts without understanding the situation. Luckily, I do understand you.” He looked off to the side, holding a hand up to his chin in a pensive pose, before adding in a quieter voice, “I made the mistake of getting too caught up in my work recently. Acting out over feelings of neglect is entirely different from misbehavior out of sheer petulance.”

He turned his head back towards you again before finishing,

“It would be cruel to respond to a cry for attention as if it were ordinary disobedience.”

The words took you aback, and you hesitated in your response, but as it fully registered in your mind, the momentary surprise was replaced with shameful fury. You held your arms firmly at your side, hands balled into fists as you replied.

“What?! I didn't— I didn’t do it for attention!”

You felt foolish for thinking for even a second that he might actually empathize with you, might finally come to enough humility to realize that much of your perceived disobedience was due to the sheer degree of meticulous, total control he held over everything you did. But no, instead, your attempt to run away was being treated as attention-seeking. It felt belittling, degrading.

He took a short breath, as if about to say something, but as his gaze fell upon you again, he simply exhaled, an amused smile forming on his face, replacing the former exasperation — and only infuriating you further, realizing even your anger wouldn't be taken seriously.

“Yes, yes, of course.” He made no effort to hide the dismissive amusement in his voice, either, but cleared his throat before returning to a more neutral tone before you could give any retort. “Regardless, you've been through a lot already. If you can be mature and calm down, make some acknowledgement of the trouble you’ve caused and show some remorse, then, I'm willing to somewhat overlook this.” Making direct contact between your eyes and his, he finished, “Won’t that be easier on us both?”

The obvious dismissal of your statement and implications of what he thought made your face feel hot. The embarrassment that had already been weighing down on you now became suffocating, and the utter arrogance of the presumption of your willingness to comply made you so upset it felt nauseating.

“What does ‘somewhat’ mean?” You tried to suppress the irritation in your voice.

He gave another heavy sigh. “Should you really be asking for specifics? It’s your best course of action regardless.”

You opened your mouth and inhaled as if to speak, holding your closed fists up to your chest, ready to spew every ounce of vitriol you’d been building up, and then, you fell silent as your eyes met.

His expression grew dark, eyes half-lidded and features blank — not contorted with anger nor curiosity, but merely waiting, watching, warning. Anticipating your defiance, prepared to react accordingly.

You looked down, hesitating.

Was it really worth it…? A few moments of lashing out, at what cost? ‘Consequences’ hurt, in one sense or another, they always did, no matter what form that word took.

You swallowed. He was right — one path before you was wiser.

You hung your head.

“…I’m sorry…”

Even with your gaze turned downward, you could see his eyes widen just a bit in your peripheral vision, not having expected such quick compliance — understandably so, based on your past incidents. But after a moment, his expression softened. He took another step, closing the gap between you, cupping your face in his hands and forcing you to lift your head back up.

“Mm. I’m glad you understand. You know, you've matured quite a bit recently.”

You almost, almost found yourself feeling happy at the praise, but then pushed that feeling away. It was part of the way he did things, part of the process, so you'd slowly come to recognize, putting the pieces together over and over until you became aware of how he managed to bring you down to submission each time. You refused to be swayed by that. You were only giving it up and apologizing because it was the was the easier, less painful choice… so you reminded yourself. Now, at least, you'd be done with this, could move on and quietly begin plotting again.

But then, as you felt his hand move down to your shoulder, then to your waist, you remembered the ‘somewhat.’

Yes, of course it couldn’t be left at that, wouldn’t be so simple as forcing you into humility just once.

You knew that full well. These checks of obedience after an act of disobedience never came solitary, and the desire for that subservience to be affirmed was not easily satiated. It would only grow deeper, an increasing hunger for your subservience. Pushing your pride further and further down, carving into your personhood and whittling away anything deemed unfitting. It would only go further, debasing you in increasingly violating ways.

You felt a gnawing in your stomach. You hadn’t thought of that part, in the moment, but the realization now made your heartrate begin to accelerate once more.

His eyes drifted downward.

“…Ah, right. The clothes you’re wearing, we need to have a servant wash them for you. Just set them by the door for now.”

You looked down. You hadn’t even bothered to think about it until now, having been so preoccupied with other thoughts, but indeed, the oh-so-nice and expensive clothing you’d been so lovingly lavished with, was now fully coated in grime and dirt.

At the same time, your immediate instinct was to protest the idea, knowing the intent. He wasn’t going to get you a replacement — which he himself would need to do, seeing as all of your clothing was, no doubt deliberately, kept outside the bedroom itself, and it had been established early on that you were to rely on him or servants to fetch whatever he would have you wear that day for you. Was the command too, then, intentional?

The very moment you even asked yourself the question, though, came the immediate answer, making you feel foolish for even questioning it. Of course it was intentional, planned — what wasn’t, anymore, in your life? You remembered looking back, on the day you were brought here, thinking over the past with borderline horror at the realization of how intricately detailed and precise every detail had been in his effort — what you now were certain was a premeditated plan — to get your family to call off the years-long betrothal you’d already been in, and marry you off to him instead. That realization of it all had kept you rightfully afraid of him, knowing he was always one step ahead of whatever you might attempt.

The corners of your mouth pulled taut with embarrassment, and you pulled your hands in towards your chest again, elbows pressed firmly to your sides. “That’s…”

He caught a glimpse of your face, and in turn smiled, an amused sort of expression. “Come on now,” he took a step towards you, reaching out and grasping at your hands, pulling them out of their defensive position, “even now, you’re still so shy over this?”

“I— no, I’m not—” you cut off, teeth clacking together as you snapped your mouth shut when his hands released yours, instead moving around to the binding ties of your outfit, pulling the knot apart.

You held your hands up to the level of your shoulders, bent at the elbow, fingers curled as if preparing to reach forward, to grasp at his hands, to do something.

But you didn’t.

The exchange was itself a means of conversation, communicating something not fully articulable by word alone. Violating your comfort and dignity, baring you to him, those things themselves were an assertion, a statement. To interrupt would be to challenge that assertion, to deny him. And perhaps it was, in part, also a test, a question of whether or not you would dare to deny the unspoken statement.

As the silk strands came undone, the first layer gave way to the second, and pulling apart that knot caused the fabric bound by it to slide apart, exposing your bare skin to the cool air.

An unspoken reminder that your body was not your own, that any right to autonomy and privacy you might have beyond this room, no longer existed within it. Access to you was not a privilege granted by your permission, but an inherent right, provided by the very contract that legally bound you to him.

The casual, unhesitating manner with which you were stripped down only emphasized that that very reality itself was not something to be regarded as of any great significance, but a fact accepted as readily as any other. Exposing you, touching you, exercising that unconditional access to your body was given no greater thought than utilizing any of one’s possessions.

There was nothing he could ever say to you, nor adequate words to even exist, to fully encapsulate the degree to which you were owned — but with that gesture, you understood all the same.

And even though the humiliation of the reminder made your eyes burn, made you bite your lip, you lowered your hands to your side. An admission of defeat, surrender.

It did not go unnoticed. He smiled.

“Very good. You’re behaving much better today than I anticipated.”

Another moment of praise. He was genuinely pleased. You could see it and hear it through his face and voice.

Were it on any other matter, you might have felt proud to be praised in such a sweet, charming voice. If the praise were on something you actually wanted to achieve.

And then, his eyes trailed downward, running over your body, taking in each detail. His eyebrows furrowed as his gaze settled on one particular spot.

“You really shouldn't lie to me,” he spoke in a quiet, low voice.

At first, you felt a momentary panic, not quite sure what he even meant, thinking you had somehow made a unintentional transgression. It wasn't until you looked down that you saw the scrape just below your collarbones from your, admittedly unsightly, vigorous resistance upon initial confrontation with the doushin the night prior, having essentially had to have been wrestled down to the concrete street. In hindsight, you were even surprised with yourself for putting up such a fight, but at the time it had just been the instinctive reflex, fueled by desperation.

It all felt distant now, as if further back in time than it was, the memory all blurring together. It was only a very small mark, and had now scabbed up as part of the natural healing process, but as his fingers brushed over the spot, you still tensed at the slight lingering sting.

“It doesn't really hurt,” you replied nonetheless. “It's fine…”

He only straightened back upright, closing his eyes momentarily.

“I suppose I shouldn't have expected common doushin to be able to follow instructions… just so you know, I did specifically say to ensure you weren't hurt in any way.” He turned his gaze downward, hand held to his chin as he added in a low mutter, “I'll be sure to only use private hands in the future, should I need something like this again.”

You shrugged, turning your eyes downward to the floor once more. Really, you wanted to not have to think about the incident any further, the mere memory stirring up embarrassment, which did not combine well with your already vulnerable state. “It's fine. It's not a big deal,” you grumbled. After a moment of hesitation, feeling another urge of spite, you added, “it wouldn't have happened if you didn't… do all that.”

He huffed in exasperation, but was quiet for the moment, seemingly composing his thoughts before replying.

“Don’t be disagreeable. We've discussed this. I care for you dearly, but that does not mean that you are exempt from expectations to behave.”

He always gave you that line — that a behavioral matter of yours had been previously ‘discussed,’ which merely meant he'd told you not to do something, or behave a certain way. That was the end-all-be-all — whatever you were told was set in stone the moment it left his mouth, and transgressing against the standard that was set was often treated as if you’d forgotten, as if it slipped your mind, the idea of intentional and deliberate disobedience being something unthinkable to such a degree that simply having done so by accident were more believable to him — and perhaps you ought be grateful for that.

You clamped your jaw shut, turning your head downward.

His gaze turned back to your body.

“…Your nerves are unsettled.” His hand slid it's way down your side, the feeling of touch lingering in a trail behind as his palm brushed over the curvature of your waist. “See, that's what causes these irrational episodes of yours. Stress, overexcitement. It just… builds naturally for you, over time.” After a moment, taking in your expression, he added, “it's nothing to feel bad about, dear. I don't mind helping you with it at all… I'm glad I can do so, really. I worry about how you'd manage without having me to help.”

You hesitated before giving a response. “What… what do you mean? I'm not… irrational…”

It was as if your words went in one ear and out the other, continuing on without responding to your objection. “But again, I failed to keep it in check this time, so this was ultimately my own fault… I'll have to make a note to be more thorough.”

His hand grasped at your waist, pulling you close. His other hand reached up, cupping your breast. He looked over towards your shared bed.

“Come on. Let's get you in bed.”

“Huh? But—”

His grip tightened. “Don't be difficult.”

Your stomach began to churn. You were still angry. The last thing you wanted was to go through what was essentially a humiliation ritual. There was something about the act itself — at least, between the two of you — that made you feel embarrassed and ashamed. The inherent vulnerability, for one, but moreover, because you knew the intent, you knew the way he viewed it in his mind, could practically feel the sentiment. An act of claiming, an exchange of power in which your loss of dignity became his gain of pride and control. Carving into your very personhood, marking you as something belonging to him.

Your opened your mouth, but whatever you intended to say was cut off by your small noise of surprise as you were pulled forward, in a manner that was somehow so gentle in touch, yet forceful enough to move your whole body towards his. His arm wrapped around your frame, the other positioning itself underneath your thighs before lifting you up and moving down to sit.

You fidgeted, tried to pull away — but his grip tightened, as much to secure you as it was a warning, telling you to hold still.

“It's for your sake. This will help you… you may not realize that yet, but you’ll thank me, I promise.”

His hands moved to your hips and turned you so that your back rested against his chest.

“As I was saying, you simply… build stress and neurosis, naturally. It's not your fault, really. You're just sensitive to changes, stressors... Every individual has at least some… defects in their nature.”

His hands retracted, and there was a brief rustling sound before they returned to your skin, now ungloved, flesh on flesh. The contact sent sparks through your nerves.

“That's why people pair with those they are compatible with. They fill each other's needs, compliment each other’s natures… I’m obligated to take those defects and resolve them.”

He gave you a smile — you couldn't see it, but could feel it as his lips pressed softly against your neck. Warm, full of sincerity and adoration.

“I wouldn’t do that if it weren’t out of care… and you in turn provide me with something that needs care and guidance. I enjoy having that.”

For all his attempts at soothing words and the gentleness of the touch, you knew in your heart that there was no doubt that that was part of the intent — to humble you, to tame you and make you docile, to make you submit. Forcing you to such a vulnerable state and inflicting reactions of pleasure was itself an act of exerting power and control.

It was, in a way, remarkable, that the human spirit could not only be broken by both brutal cruelty, but equally — or, perhaps even more effectively — eroded away with a gentle voice and touch, humiliation so deeply intertwined with affection that they became impossible to distinguish from each other, forming a unique sentiment that was both one and the other.

You were endearing to him, but that affection for you was like a venom that ran through your veins — an affection that diminished you, reduced you to some inhuman possession, a toy to be manipulated in any way he desired.

It made you feel sick. It made you feel angry, it tormented your psyche—

Your thoughts were turned to a haze as his fingers rolled your nipple between them. You inhaled a sharp gasp, back arching forward.

Processing your own reaction, embarrassment took place of the momentary pleasure, and your face felt hot. You reached an arm up instinctively to cover your breasts, pulling away from the touch.

“…We've had this conversation before, haven't we?” He reached up, grasping your jaw with a grip just firm enough to communicate a warning.

You swallowed and, albeit not without just a moment of hesitation, lowered your arm. You looked down, breasts now exposed fully. “I'm… sorry…”

He gave you a hum of approval, returning to the former fondling, fingers playing with the sensitive flesh. You bit your lip, breathing growing labored.

After a few minutes, his hands wandered downward, slowly, softly, down to your thighs, then back up over your hips, where they finally settled.

“Touch yourself.”

The command caught you off-guard. Your eyes widened. “…What?”

“Before I help you,” he murmured, “I want to see what you will do for me. That's only fair, don't you think?” He squeezed at your waist.

“Prove to me…” he leaned forward, breath hot against your ear, “that you know your place. Do as I say.”

You swallowed.

It was in your best interest to obey.

You reached down slowly, shivering as your fingers brushed over your clit. You pressed down, beginning to rub your outstretched fingers back and forth. With your other hand, you reached up, tweaking your nipple just enough to send pleasure through your nerves.

“There you go.” He pulled you a bit closer to him, so your bodies were firmly pressed together. He craned his neck, no doubt catching your abashed, embarrassed expression.

Not that he would give you any words of comfort on that matter, tell you not to feel embarrassed. He only smiled, grasping your hair and forcing your head to turn, pressing your mouth to his. It was only a short contact, parting with the softest of sounds.

His grip on your hip tightened, and you realized why he’d pulled back when he spoke.

“Don’t stop.”

You hadn’t realized you had, too focused on the slight surprise to being kissed. You took a shuddering breath, and resumed the motion. Your eyes closed, heightening your senses — the sensation of each touch and the shockwaves it sent through your core to every nerve in your body.

Your breathing quickly became labored. Even if you were inducing the sensation itself, it was good. You bit your lip as a soft, weak little sound came out of your throat, unable to refrain from vocalizing at the intensity of the feeling.

“Not just like that.” One of his hands reached down to your thigh, hand wrapping around the underside of it and pulling it to the side, spreading you open further. “Go on.”

“Mm…” You couldn’t summon any particular words, overwhelmed by the conflicting sensations — the heat to your face and knot in your stomach at the shameless way your body was so exposed, at the feeling of being watched as if the act were a performance, and the haze of arousal that rapidly began to cloud your judgement, obscuring the feeling of discomfiture, drowning your inhibition.

Even without the pleasure compromising your hesitation, you didn’t want to think about the alternatives if you refused to obey — this was thus far, comparatively, far from the worst consequences you’d ever received for acting out.

You reached down further, pushing two of your fingers past the slick coating your flesh and inside your body, curling them into the spot that made you tense, made your muscles spasm, over and over, each movement sparking a rush that surged throughout your body.

Each breath was a deep gasp. Your toes curled, your muscles went taut and your insides clenched around your own fingers.

But something was missing.

It was pleasurable, but there just wasn’t enough to push you over the edge. The sensations were too weak.

Your body had been conditioned something more, and this was not comparable.

Sweat began to accumulate on your skin as you kept curling your fingers, desperately chasing a high. His arm moved from your hip to wrap around your waist, pressing another kiss to your neck.

You tried. Frustration began to build. Your eyes watered as you curled your fingers as hard as you could, pressed as far in as they would go, down to the knuckle.

It wasn’t deep enough.

It wasn't what you were used to. Your fingers were too short, just short of reaching that one perfect spot that made you lose yourself in pleasure, melting to a mewling mess.

You shuddered. You couldn’t reach a climax, no matter how hard you tried to focus. Even without orgasm, though, your exertion reached a peak you couldn’t carry on further from, and your fingers stopped moving as you went limp, trying to catch your breath, frustration and desperation nearly enough to make you cry. Your head fell back, eyes closed as you panted.

You could feel the corners of his mouth upturn against the flesh of your neck.

“…Is something wrong?”

Your jaw clenched, and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

That was the other goal of it, besides proving yourself to him — it was also to prove something to you. Something you didn’t want to admit out loud, something that made your chest swell with bitterness just to admit to yourself, much more so to do so aloud.

“I can’t… I can't do it.”

“Mm.” He pulled you further back against him. “Then, what do you need?”

The tingling sensation, the desperate need, the remnant frustration of lost pleasure, was too much to bear. You swallowed your pride, closing your eyes as you forced the words out.

“…I need you to do it…”

You were expecting him to say something in return, but for a moment, he was only quiet. He began to drum his fingers back and forth against your waist.

“Is that so?”

You nodded again, which seemed to be to his displeasure—

“Use your words.”

“Yes…” You swallowed.

You waited, but no touch came.

“Hm. How odd.” His voice was low and quiet, but unmistakably derisive. “You seemed to think you were perfectly capable of caring for yourself, running off like you did.”

Your eyes welled with tears. You shook your head back and forth, unable to bring yourself to speak.

“No?” His hand trailed downward until it ghosted over your sex, the lightest of touches, borderline torment. “Then, you can't do this for yourself?”

“…No…”

He moved his face even closer, speaking directly into your ear.

“Then what do you say? Tell me exactly what you need. Show me.”

You swallowed. The burning of humiliation in your chest was almost too much to bear. Had your insides not still been alight with the wavering, tight feeling of need, your pride would have outweighed your desire. But in that moment, it did not.

You spread your still-quivering legs wide apart.

“…Please touch me.”

“Mm. And what do you want from that? For how long?”

You squeezed your eyes shut.

“I want to cum.”

Finally — finally — his fingers pressed down against your clit, enough pressure to send waves of pleasure up your spine.

“There, see…” He pressed another kiss to your face. “Aren't things so much easier when you just choose to be honest?”

You nodded. “Yes. I… I’m sorry…”

He gave a low hum of acknowledgement. “This stubbornness is just your nature.” His fingers slid back and forth, gracing the bundle of nerves with friction. “But that can be fixed.”

You bit your lip. “I… I’m not— ah—”

One motion of his hand was particularly firm, the sensation it sent through your nerves so intense it was almost painful. Your hands shot forward, grasping at his wrist.

It was only when the motion stopped that you realized you’d erred — it was a habit of reflexively grabbing at his hands when a sensation was too intense, trying to pry them off — something he very much did not like you doing.

Sure enough, he sighed, frustration blatantly evident. You jerked your hands away, but it was already too late to take back the first offense.

“…Now,” he started, “Can you refrain from doing that again, or do I need to bind them?”

“I…” you paused, realizing you genuinely needed to think it through. You weren’t certain if you could abstain.

You felt him shift back, leaning away from your body.

“Well, that’s enough of an answer itself.”

You heard the rustling of clothes, felt movement behind you, and you turned your head over your shoulder just in time to see as he pulled off first the top layer, then the undershirt over his head and off his body. You made a soft sound as he then pushed down on your back with a firm touch, forcing you to lean forward, grasping at your hands and pulling them behind your back — firmly, enough to be a clear message to not try to dissuade him, but your pride, weak as it was, still couldn't let it happen with no objection at all.

“Wait, wait, I can do it, I don't need—”

“This is for your sake. Hold still.”

“But I—”

“Be still.” He spoke firmly, but softened his voice as he continued, “It’s not your fault for having that reflex… but you have to train yourself against it. You want to be good, don't you?”

You shut your mouth, nodding as you sounded an answer. “Mm-hm…”

Cloth wrapped tightly around your wrists, using one sleeve to bind them together. Not enough of a bind that you couldn’t break out with some effort, but just enough to keep you from reflexively trying to interfere.

“Now where were we…”

You were pulled back once more, perhaps even closer. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back.

And his hand quickly moved back down, and the bliss of shockwaves of pleasures overcame you once more. You whimpered, biting your lip.

His fingers pressed more firmly, rubbing circles into the nub, and for a moment, your wrists jerked against the bind as the reflex kicked in. It was too much at once, but now, you were prevented from doing anything about it. As he began to rub in circular motions, your body shuddered, and an involuntary moan came out of your throat — a wanton, shameful sound, laced with pleasure and lust.

“There you go.” You could feel him speak, shuddering at the vibration of his chest against your back and the warm breath against your ear. His other hand rolled your nipple between a finger and thumb. “Give into it.”

Your body trembled against his touch, and jolted as his own fingers pressed inside of you. His were longer, and the touches firmer, and the result was a degree of pleasure you were simply incapable of replicating on your own.

As much as you hated it — hated to think it, hated to acknowledge it, hated to try and not acknowledge it as the reality prodded at the back of your mind — he made you feel better than anything you had ever experienced, better than anything you could ever make yourself feel.

You whimpered, toes and fingers curling. Your hips moved, a rolling motion to meet each pressing movement.

A singular motion, and singular sound, both of which you near-immediately caught yourself doing, having been too lost in the feeling to think clearly. You cut off your voice and went still, but it didn’t go unnoticed.

“Don’t.” He didn’t stop moving his fingers as he spoke, instead pressing down with harsh force, essentially pulling you back closer to him with the hand partially inside you. “Holding yourself back like that is another form of dishonesty.”

You bit your lip, squeezing your eyes shut, but unable to form a response before he continued.

“And you wouldn’t want,” the fingers that had been gently tweaking at your breast pinched down hard, a momentary spark of pain and the lowering of his voice making you go tense, “to make this unpleasant because you couldn’t be good for me, would you?”

You shook your head back and forth with vigor. There were many punishments in your domestic repertoire that were unpleasant, and the thought of any of them made your heart skip a beat. “No, no, I don’t… want that…”

“Then you’re going to be honest, aren’t you?”

“Yes! Yes, I promise…”

“Mm.”

He kept rubbing his thumb against your clit, even in perfectly synched timing to each motion his fingers curled inward inside of you.

It was so pleasurable, so intense, it made you angry. Mad that he was capable of it, mad that his control over your body was greater than your own, and most of all, mad that he did it with such ease, effortless, that making you come undone entirely was something he mastered without ever being taught.

That pleasure began to build and build. You squirmed and whimpered, muscles throughout your body tensing and relaxing over and over. Your hips rolled into his hand. Each movement built the pressure in your body higher and higher, rapidly reaching a peak.

The edge that climax made you quiver, body and legs trembling.

“There it is…” his voice was so soft and gentle, soothing in a way it had no right to be.

The noise that came out of your mouth was nearly animal-like, a whimpering cry as you threw your head back, quivering and spasming. The waves of sensation pulsated throughout your body, reaching a peak and then beginning to ebb away.

You went limp, bodyweight falling back against his chest, heaving with heavy breaths. Your head felt as if it were spinning, and you stared forward in a dull stupor, body trembling with aftershock.

You twitched at the feeling of his fingers sliding out of you, with a wet squelching sound that made you shiver.

“Look at that…”

He spread his fingers apart, clear fluid forming a trail between them. You bit your lip, tilting your head downward in a futile attempt of avoidance of what you knew well came next — but that effort was quickly negated as he grabbed your jaw, turning your head back up and squeezing your face.

“Open.”

The force of the grip as he squeezed down more or less forced your jaw apart anyway. You didn't even get to take a breath before he pushed his fingers into your mouth, salty taste spreading over your tongue.

“Clean them off.”

Maybe it was a way of forcing you to acknowledge your own bodily reaction, even if you tried to deny it to yourself. Maybe it was much simpler than that — just another way to degrade you, or something simply arousing for him because it just was.

You complied nonetheless. Your tongue swirled around each finger, sucking and swallowing the taste of yourself. Even as he pulled his fingers back out, a string of saliva connected them to your tongue.

And then, after wiping his fingers off on the fabric around his thigh, he returned the arm to your waist, pulling you close, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“See… so much more at ease now, aren't you?”

That was one way to put it. You couldn't even bring words to your mind. Even processing what he said felt like a significant effort. Everything felt far away, your mind like a blank slate, numb and empty. Your body was even more exhausted, totally lax aside from involuntary twitches.

You made a soft sound as he turned your body to the side, just enough to look you face-to-face. Looking down at your watery eyes as they met his, the stupor in your expression, even as your brain began to clear, as if a machine turning back on after a few moments of darkness.

And he smiled. It was soft, full of endearment. And belittling. It was not made any better by the small chuckle he gave, patting the top of your head.

It burned in your chest, down into your stomach.

Your eyebrows furrowed and your lower lip quivered, an admittedly petulant pout. Shame formed a knot in your stomach. Disappointment in yourself, ending up like this again after swearing so many times over that this one would be the last, the last time you'd come apart so easily, the last time you'd find yourself spent and susceptible to the touch that seemed as if it were designed for your body.

And he laughed. An amused chuckle, patting your head.

“Mm. I had a feeling that wouldn't be quite enough.”

He leaned in, firmly grasping at your arms as you tried to squirm, bringing his mouth so close to yours, forehead resting against yours.

“But, that does admittedly work out for my sake.”

You grunted in surprise as he hooked his arm under your legs again, this time only lifting you just enough to set you down onto the padding of your bed, gently pushing on your shoulders until you were flat on your back, arched over your hands bound behind you.

“A-ah, I…” You swallowed, grasping at the sheets to the best of your ability. It was nothing you weren't anticipating, but the vulnerability made you tense.

It didn't help that he paused any motion, eyes trailing over your body, before reaching down and running his hands over your flesh, one moving to grip at your waist, the other your opposite hip. You couldn’t reach to cover yourself, forced to lay bare and vulnerable. Instinctively, you pressed your thighs together, but firm hands grabbed at the undersides, pushing them apart and positioning himself between them so you couldn’t close them again.

The former act was not enough. Putting you through the ordeal of being made to wait in jail like a child in time-out was not enough, exposing your body was not enough, toying with your body and forcing an acknowledgement of his own control was not enough.

Your lip trembled.

But anger still pervaded through your negative emotions. It compelled your courage, you felt defiance surging up. You had to look him in the eye, tell him exactly what you felt, tell him you knew what he was doing and push him off, then, maybe then you'd have the satisfaction of some sense of control.

You could do it. You had to.

“You… you're just doing the same thing as before!” Your eyebrows furrowed. “You’re trying to, to—”

“Again with this?” He tilted his head. “I really wish you wouldn’t assume such ill intent. This is how people love each other… you know that.”

You bit your lip. You almost, for just a second, fell for it, almost felt guilty. You shook your head forcefully, clearing your mind of the thought.

“No, I won't let you—”

And with that, there was a rapid shift in expression. His eyes narrowed in a piercing, foreboding look. You went silent.

Your shoulders stiffened. The words came out on impulse, resolve of defiance broken as quickly as it had formed. “I'm— I'm sorry—”

Dammit.

For once, the dark expression did not shift back to pleasant as soon as you apologized — an indicator of having gone too far. His hand slowly reached up, this time not in a loving caress or gentle-but-firm grip, but outright harsh grip on your jaw.

“You…”

He tilted his head forward to more directly look you in the eye. His voice was low and cold, making your heart race further.

“Do not ‘let’ anyone do anything.”

His fingertips pressed into your flesh, squeezing your face between them.

“I know you understand your place. Don’t behave as if you don’t.” Finally, his voice softened as he finished, “I can’t help you if you keep fighting me every step of the way. So… you’ll control yourself, won’t you?”

You swallowed, nodding your head, twitching as the motion made his fingernails dig into your cheeks.

“You know I don’t like being so harsh with you, don’t you?”

You nodded again.

“Good.” He leaned down and pressed his mouth to yours. Only for a short, chaste moment, but a slow, sensual motion nonetheless. You closed your eyes, tuning out the rustling clothes, heavily breathing with anticipation.

“You’ll have to forgive me for this. This whole ordeal has been stressful for me as well.”

You didn’t get time to ask what he meant — he rammed himself into you all at once, completely stuffing your body in one rough, forceful motion.

You cried out, back arching and body stiffening. You felt your insides clamp down, pulsating against the intrusion.

His hands tightened their grip on your waist, holding you still as the momentary sting ebbed away.

“There you go… calm down.”

You felt him slide out, then push back in, the latter movement sending sparks of sensation running up your spine, causing you to go tense all over again.

Your breathing became ragged, legs twitching and spasming at the sensation. You tried, without thinking, to snap them shut, but it only resulted in effectively squeezing his waist with you thighs.

The intensity of the sensation naturally induced a reflex of strain and exertion to your muscles, a need to channel the feeling through your body, causing your toes to curl, your thighs clamping down harder, quivering at the bare touch of flesh to flesh. You closed your eyes, but couldn't drown out the sound of skin making contact to yours, the sound itself increasingly accompanied by a wet squelching as skin met fluid with each passing second, leaking out of your body.

“You're so much more honest like this.” You could hear just the slightest strain in his voice, otherwise so very composed to perfection. “So meek… it's lovely. Once that resistance in you is fixed… you'll be perfect.”

You could see the corners of his mouth upturn into a look of amusement.

“You should see yourself.”

Your body stiffened, but all you could do was whimper. The words felt like a cold knife to the stomach — and you knew he knew that. Knew that that moment was you at your must vulnerable, the peak of awareness of your own helplessness, the moment you felt the most degraded, and yet, it still wasn't enough.

He leaned in close, speaking directly into your ear, so close you could feel the warmth as he spoke, never ceasing to move all the while.

“Whimpering and drooling like that,” he murmured. “You're trembling… and that expression on your face is so adorable. Like you can't even think straight.” He leaned back up, enough to look you in the eye — now welling with tears.

And again, he only smiled.

“How precious.”

His hands ran down your body, grabbed at your hips, and began to pull you, jerking your body back and forth to meet his own movements.

It was too much. Even with the knot of emotion in your stomach, you felt a hot, tingling pressure build in your body. Your legs quivered, the wanton little sounds from your throat higher and higher.

You didn't want that. It was the final part of this ritual that so demeaned you, one more confirmation of his control of you. You pressed your hands into the mat, trying to push yourself back — but it was only met with a harsh pull, forcing your body back until you practically slammed against his hips.

“Don't fight.”

It was the last thing you heard. You threw your head back as the sensation became overwhelming, back arching and eyes rolling back as the feeling reached a peak. You could only faintly register the high-pitched sound that sounded as if it couldn't be you, a voice you didn't recognize.

And then it began to ebb away. A hazy stupor filled the void as the pleasure dissipated, a feeling of exhaustion. Your weight went limp.

You made a soft sound as he grasped your jaw again, turning your head just enough to place another kiss to your lips.

“There you go. Look at you now… all that stress and in you, totally gone. You can see it in your eyes, even.”

He paused before adding,

“Well, gone for now. I'll have to start monitoring for it more closely.”

You shuddered at the sensation as he slid out of you, fluid spilling out onto the sheets.

You felt him reach behind you, untying your wrists — you brought your arms to the front of your body, but the forearms only laid useless, having fallen asleep from your weight.

He came to rest beside you, upper body slightly propped up on his elbow, head resting in his hand, looking down at you with adoration and endearment.

And you were so, so weak. So much weaker than you wished you were, body, mind and spirit alike. So weak that, in the rush of emotions that followed, you found yourself slowly crawling forward, burying your face against his chest with a pathetic little noise.

“Poor thing. Maybe that was a bit too much for you…”

His arm reached behind your back and pulled you close, and the comfort you felt seemed to melt your mind into nothingness.

“You should rest for a while,” he continued, “then we'll get you cleaned off. We have a few hours before you'll need to be ready.”

After a moment to process the words, you tilted your head up with the softest of inquisitive noises. The cold, creeping dread began to spread through your stomach once more.

He seemed to realize, then, that you didn’t understand.

“Ah, right, you wouldn't have known.” He reached out with the hand he wasn’t leaning on, brushing his fingers over your scalp. “While you were gone, I sent someone to arrange a house visit with a psychiatrist… a private one that works for families such as ours.”

His words certainly didn’t help soothe your nerves. Your mouth felt dry. Your voice came out weak, hesitant, part of you not wanting to ask, lest you learn an unpleasant answer.

“…Why?”

He tilted his head in just the slightest, loose strands of hair shifting and waving with the motion. “Well, keeping your needs in check does help with your condition, but I’ve realized it would do you good to have a secondary means to treat your hysteric tendencies as well.”

“My…” You swallowed. “My what?” The words slowly pieced together in your mind, hitting you with a sense of dread and confusion. You squirmed backwards, shifting just a bit away from him. “There's… nothing wrong with me…”

“Of course, of course, there’s nothing wrong, that’s…” He spoke in a reassuring sort of tone, as if to comfort you. “…A harsh choice of phrasing. You just need some help, is all.” After a moment of pause, he added, “don't worry, it's perfectly normal that you aren't self-aware of it. That's usually how these illnesses work.”

His arm reached out further, pulling you back towards him, pressing your bodies together before he continued.

“He’s just required to see you in-person for a little while before giving you anything. Regulations and all. We’re just going to get you something to make you a little more… docile.”

His arm wrapped around your body, and he pulled his head back just a bit to look you in the eye, smiling with endearment.

“Ah, I can tell by your face that you’re nervous. Don’t worry, I'll be there throughout the whole thing… I'll answer any questions, you just sit there quietly, alright?” He pulled you a bit closer, planting an affectionate, short kiss to the top of your head. “I know that sort of thing is a lot on your nerves.”

If your trembling could be felt, he didn’t say anything about it, only carrying on with his gently-spoken words.

“We won’t have to worry about you having these… irrational escapades anymore. And you’ll be so much happier, too.”

You felt his hand on your back, firmly in place — you were pressed so close together that there was no need to pull you any closer, but perhaps he wanted to be sure you couldn’t pull away.

“So… rest for now, alright?”

Mind and heart alike racing, in your stupor, you let the pause linger for too long. The hand on your back began to close in on itself, fingernails brushing against your skin just enough to send the faintest of pains up your spine.

You had no strength left in you to give anything other than the correct answer.

“Okay...”

He only gave you a hum of acknowledgement, and began to stroke your back up and down, a pattern that should have been comforting and soothing, yet was anything but. Exhaustion wore on your body, but even as you forced yourself to close your eyes, true rest was nowhere to be found.

[frudoo]

141 Reader who's really good at Sleight of hand/pickpocketing? Does it for fun, sees how long it takes someone to notice their items gone. Lighters, wallets, watches.

This one got me gigglin 🤭

Warnings: None! GN reader!

Someone on base is a dirty thief, and Captain John Motherfucking Price is going to find out who it is. He sends out an urgent group text to you and the other members of Task Force 141, demanding that you all meet in his office now. You’re holding onto Johnny’s arm as you walk inside with him, and while he’s all nervous and distracted, you carefully maneuver his watch off of his wrist and slip it into your pocket. 

     “What do you think this is about?” You ask Johnny quietly, watching as Simon and Kyle slip into the room and stand beside you.

     “Sounds like Cap’s go’ a stick up his arse,” he replies, eyes going wide as Price smacks his hand on his desk.

     You and the other three suspects all fall into parade rest, eyes focused on the fuming man staring you all down. 

     “One o’you fuckers has been stealin’ supplies and- and random shite, and you need to own up to it. Soap, you first. Speak.”

     “Ah’ve been in the 141 fer years, sir, when ‘ave ye known me tae steal?” Johnny furrows his eyebrows, accent a little heavier under his duress. 

     John sniffs, stepping around his desk to look the sergeant up and down. After a few seconds, he hums, moving onto you. Price cocks an eyebrow expectantly, and you, ever the charmer, put on a brave face.

     “Sir, I haven’t been on this task force for very long, and I still don’t know my way around the entire base. I’m not even sure where we keep most of our supplies,” you reason, secretly praising yourself for being such a believable actor.

     John narrows his eyes at you and gives you the same treatment as Johnny, looking you up and down before moving onto his next suspect: Simon.

     “Ghost, I should hope you of all people wouldn’t participate in such degenerate activities,” Price deadpans, and Simon stares back at him just the same.

     “Never. Noticed my things goin’ missin’, too,” Ghost grunts.

     John doesn’t even give him a once-over, just moves onto Gaz.

     “Kyle. I know my best sergeant wouldn’t do anything so foolish,” John tilts his head, holding a hand up to Johnny who’s about to start running his mouth.

     “No, sir. You know me,” Kyle responds coolly, and once again, John gives him the benefit of doubt. 

     Price huffs, pinching the bridge of his nose in desperation. He steps back around his desk and flops into his chair, crossing his arms over his chest with a sigh.

     “It’s been a long week, yeah? Maybe I’ve been misplacing things, and wrongly put the blame on you lot. My apologies. You’re all dismissed,” John grumbles, setting his boonie hat on his desk to run his fingers through his hair.

     “Thank you, sir,” all four suspects collectively say.

     While Kyle, Johnny, and Simon all walk out, you stay behind, walking up to Price’s desk with a sympathetic smile on your face. He hums, waiting for you to speak.

     “Just wanted to say that you should get some rest, Cap. The rest of us’ll keep an eye out in case anything else turns up missing,” you hum, reaching across the desk to pat his hand softly.

     “I appreciate it,” he responds, corners of his eyes crinkled as he grins back at you.

     You walk out, and as you shut the door behind you, John goes to place his hat back on his head only to find that it’s no longer on his desk. The last thing you hear before sprinting back to your barracks is Price’s muffled, irate voice screaming your name.

[prettyflyforawhitelie]

I wanted to request something for Husk, if that's alright! Their rooms are next to each other, and Husk just so happens to hear her cry. Reader is not being loud, she just couldn't hold back a particularly strong sob and he heard her. He keeps listening and now that he is paying close attention, he can hear soft sobbing. He goes to check in on her and she apologizes for waking him up, but is too shy to admit she was crying right away. I would love to see some fluff/comfort! Thank you <3

This is adorable! I love love love writing fluff. Thanks for the request! This turned out a bit angstier than I planned, but I think it balances out nicely with the fluff. If you want one that's just purely fluff, please message me and I will be happy to rewrite/write another! I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Husk x Reader

Warnings: Violence, Weapons, Drink Spiking, Alcohol

Word Count: 1809

“This Night has Opened my Eyes” - Husk x Reader

Today had been a long day. And that’s the understatement of the year. This was the day that you and the other residents of the hotel had been planning on for months… the war against the angels. You had prepped weapons, defense, and plans all of yesterday, but nothing could have stopped the inevitable bloodshed that accompanied war. Angels were cruel, fierce beings that didn't care about the lives of sinners so long as they increased their “kill count.” They hunt sinners for sport, and nothing, not even the princess of Hell, was going to stand in their way. 

This was evident when Adam and the angels mercilessly broke through the forcefield that Alastor had cast around the hotel. Fuck. That was you and your friends’ only shot at winning this battle. As you scan your environment to assess how many angels are coming at you, you also assess the casualties among your newly found “battalion”. So many of Rosie’s cannibals were surrounding you, dead. The sight was awful. Families, all with hopes and dreams, lay crushed beneath your feet. You look around for any signs of life from your friends, seeing Angel wielding 6 machine guns and… was that Sir Pentious and Cherri kissing? Never mind that, you had one person and one person only on your mind… your boyfriend Husk. Last night, you were expressing how worried you are about the possibility that one (or both) of you may not make it out of this war alive. He assured you that he could hold his own, particularly worried about you. You trusted your fighting abilities, but if something happened to Husk and you weren’t there to help him, you don't think you would ever be able to forgive yourself.

You find yourself facing your worst nightmare after fighting off two particularly feisty exterminators. You turn a corner of the horribly wrecked hotel to continue your search for Husk, only to be met with your boyfriend’s injured body laying on the ground, struggling to crawl to shelter. 

“HUSK!” you shout, running to him and helping him up. 

When your hands moved to his back to guide him to shelter, you noticed that something was missing. His - his wings. They were brutally ripped off of his back, leaving only grotesque stubs where they used to be. 

“Oh- Oh my Satan, we need to get you the fuck out of here. Why didn't you call for me? For anyone?!”

“I- I didn't want anyone-” he struggles to finish his sentence, fading in and out of consciousness. “I didn't want anyone to get hurt”

You managed to essentially drag him just out of sight of the exterminators, behind a particularly dull-looking building. You used any loose pieces of clothing that you could spare to put together a makeshift-bandage, only half-stopping the blood that was seeping from his back. 

“I’m sorry… you’ll be okay. Please be okay. I’ll make you okay.” you say as he winces from the pain. 

And for the first time in your life, you prayed.

To whom, it was unknown. I doubt the prayers of the damned are granted, but you needed more than anything for this to just be a bad dream. 

************************************************************************

As you wake up, your body is drenched in a cold sweat and tears are streaming down your face. You realize that this was all some fucked up dream, but the fact that it could become a reality very soon terrified you. You simply couldn’t stop the tears from running down your face, small sobs escaping from your lips. 

You reach your side table for your phone, only to see that it’s 3:42 AM. Damn, you really hoped you weren’t being too loud right now. Stifling tears, you notice several missed texts from Angel:

_____________________________________________________________

[12:00 AM]

💬Angel: I saw what he put in there, i dont think its deadly… might give you a wild trip tho. but i gave the guy a good beat down on ur behalf lmaooo ;) Left u in ur room to sleep it off, didnt want any idiots to seeya like that

[12:34 AM]

💬Angel: bitch whyd you lock ur door :(

[1:00 AM]

💬Angel: Y/N are you up yet?????

💬Angel: shitshitshitshit

💬Angel: Pls text me when you get up!!!!

____________________________________________________________

Reading these texts suddenly flooded you with memories of the night before (or, really, a couple hours ago.)

You and Angel Dust had decided that, fuck it, if the extermination was coming in a few days, you might as well party like there’s no tomorrow. Heading to the nearest club, you guzzled beelzejuice like it was the last thing in Hell and maybeee fucked around and flirted with a couple guys. As one of the guys you were talking to brought you a drink while Angel was on the dance floor, you downed it and started dancing with him. It wasn’t until your vision started fading that you realized that this asshole spiked your drink. Luckily, Angel was able to spot the signs from across the way and immediately scooped you up and brought you back to the hotel, screaming at the guy as you left. According to his text, I guess Angel went back to the club and fucked the guy up a bit, which made you feel a bit better. Sometimes experiences like these remind you that, yeah, you’re still in Hell. 

Remembering this only made you cry more. The tears flowed for a multitude of reasons: you were so angry that someone had the balls to spike your drink - to spike ANYONE’S drink! You were also so mad at yourself for allowing some rando to buy you a drink without you looking. You were also so grateful that Angel had such a watchful eye and cared for you so much. You guessed that the hallucinogen the man spiked you with was the cause of your terrifyingly hyper-realistic dream. 

You then remember what time it is, realizing that you had let a particularly loud sob escape your mouth. Shit. You really hoped that nobody woke up because of your crying. That would be embarrassing… to say the least. This thought was interrupted by a knock on the door. Damnit. 

“Who is it?” you ask.

“It’s me,” Husk replies. 

Husk had heard your quiet sobs from the next room over and was listening by your door. As he heard that the cries weren’t dissipating, he decided to check on you. You quickly tried to hide any evidence that you were crying, wiping your tears on your sleeve and trying to eliminate any signs of redness on your face.

“What’s up?” you ask.

“Can I come in?” Husk replies.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” you say, waiting for him to enter.

“Hello?” you ask.

“It’s locked.” he replies.

You remember Angel’s text with a small laugh and get up to open your door, taking one more precaution to wipe your face before doing so. You open the door to see Husk’s tired yet worried face.

“You ok?” you ask him.

“I think I should be asking you that.” he says while entering your room, leaving you standing at the doorway. 

“Uh, I mean, yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“I heard you crying from my room.” he says, looking at you worriedly.

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I mean, it’s, like, 4AM.” you reply, trying to seem nonchalant and like he was the one interrupting your sleep.

“Okay, I may be tired, but I’m not dumb.” he says, matter-of-factly. 

“I wasn’t crying! I was probably just snoring or something.” You take his hand into yours. “But, I appreciate you checking up on me. Okaygoodnightseeyouinthemorningbyeeeeee!” you say while trying to lead him to the door.

“Sure.” he says, clearly calling your bluff. “You do know you can always talk to me, right? That’s what I’m here for, hon.” he says, genuinely looking into your eyes while holding both of your hands. His pure care for you overpowers any urge to hide your emotions from him, and you exhale.

“Fine. I was crying.” you confess.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I guess.” you lead him back to sit on your bed. 

“I- I went out with Angel last night. I think, if i can remember, some guy spiked my drink with what I assume is a hallucinogen.” You could see Husk becoming visibly angry. “Anyways, Angel got me out of there before anything bad could happen. I guess I came back up here and passed out, but I had a horrible dream.”

“You better have a description of the guy so I can beat his ass to a bloody pulp-”

“No. It’s not that.”

“What is it then?”

“The nightmare… it was-”

“That’s what this is all about? It couldn’t have been that bad-” he asks.

“No, you don't get it. It was extermination day… the angels were ruthless. I looked around and I… I couldn't find you anywhere. I fought angels and searched relentlessly for you, only to find you left for dead with your-” you shift in your seat, the mere thought of the nightmare making you upset. “-With your wings torn off. I tried saving you, but I just knew… I just knew you wouldn't make it.” 

As you stare into the distance, clearly bothered, Husk realizes just how much this scared you. When he first heard that all of this commotion was about a nightmare, he was surprised. You weren’t exactly one to get too emotional at the slightest of things, so this was new for you. But Husk realized why this was different. This nightmare was a very, very real possibility and a decently rational fear. There really was no telling what would happen come extermination day.

“How about this,” he says, placing one of his hands on your shoulder.

“Tonight, we forget about all of this. Extermination, angels, all of it. I’ll sleep in here and we can cuddle, you can talk to me or just fall asleep. We can sleep in as late as you want and just be here, in this room, right now. Just in this moment, you and I. How does that sound?” He asks.

This tenderness from Husk, though he is your boyfriend, was refreshing. He truly knew how to calm you down when you needed it most. 

Nodding your head, you both get under the warm covers of your bed. You rest your head on Husk’s chest, savoring the slow movements of his breaths. As he moves his hand to stroke your hair, you slowly start to fall into a deep and peaceful slumber. As you both basked in each other’s warmth, Husk’s soothing purring made its way into your ears, the music of your dreams. No amount of money in Hell could get you to gamble away the pure jackpot you held in your arms on this night.

[yuurei20]

Lilia Facts Part 71: Lilia and Sebek (pt2)

Sebek seems to prioritize Malleus during events such as Beanfest, where it is hinted that he would have preferred to be on Malleus’ team rather than Lilia’s.

Sebek panics when both Lilia and Malleus disappear during Spectral Soiree and Silver asks him if he doubts Lilia’s capabilities. Sebek responds, “Why, I would never…”

Throughout Spectral Soiree Sebek expresses more interest in rescuing Malleus than he does Lilia.

When Lilia leaves the invitation to the Halloween party Sebek is one of the students who intercepts him, but Sebek fails to recognize him.

Sebek also does not recognize dream-Lilia until they begin to fight, while it seems that Silver had noticed from the start.

The various things that Lilia has taught Sebek seems to include how to conjure a fire pillar, and how to increase your body’s ability to absorb protein (the latter of which is revealed to be a prank).

Lilia has described Sebek as adorable at least twice, as well as overprotective.

Lilia explains that “Sebek demands much of himself and others” and “he's not capable of adapting himself to those around him,” but “he’s a calm, clever boy…when Malleus isn’t involved, that is.”

Lilia says that Sebek’s conviction is a powerful thing and he wishes that his classmates could appreciate that about him, but says he does not want to intervene in the learning process and will just see how it plays out, as “it's much more fun this way!”

Lilia does ultimately intervene, asking Ace and Deuce to “give him a little nudge” if they ever happen to notice that he has become stuck at some point.

When Deuce asks why he won’t ask them to help him or become friends Lilia responds, “If the people here willingly accepted the hands proffered to them, they wouldn't have been chosen by the Dark Mirror.”

Lilia then presents Sebek to the first-year group at his farewell party, saying that they will be his rivals and classmates until he graduates, so he should take the chance to bond with them. Sebek declares that he has no intention of being friendly with “these shallow people,” though he does appreciate Lilia’s consideration: “Lilia's being polite to you rabble simply because he's a kind soul. So you better be grateful, but don't let it go to your heads, humans!”

Lilia cautions that, if he is already that stubborn such a young age, his future prospects are dim and “the world's a far bigger place than you seem to realize. There's much to learn.”

Lilia says that Sebek is not to stay trapped in his own small world and Sebek responds, “Yes, sir. My apologies. I'll etch your words into my heart.”

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

You're Different

Crosshair x Reader

Summary- Ever since Crosshair made a snide comment about leaving a team member to die, you've had a lingering thought. Even though you knew he loved you, doubts rose.

A/N- Crosshair is my favorite clone, but also hard to write. Apologies if he's OOC! Feel free to LMK how I can improve XoXo

Word Count- 995

"Well I think you're letting your personal feelings get involved. You're just guilty because you left Echo at the Citatdel. Oh, I don't blame you. I'd have left him for dead too..."

The words sent chills down your spine. You couldn't pinpoint why. Crosshair says rash things all the time. He's always cold and negative, secretly you love it about him. But, leaving a team member- a brother for dead? Just because?

Well... he'd never do that to you, right? Crosshair loves you, you know that. But what was he capable of doing when he put his 'personal feelings' aside?

You came back to reality when Hunter instructed everyone to scout the area, look for a better way up the mountain into the tower.

You hurried in your step to walk next to Crosshair, something he preferred to keep you safer. His hands tightly gripped his rifle, a subtle way, you noticed, to release his anger.

He kept a keen eye for any kind of disturbance, more on edge than usual. You noticed, but was at a loss for how to bring it up. Your doubts clouded you.

'I'd have left him for dead too...' You brought a hand up to tug at your glove nervously. You couldn't even focus on the mission, 'Well I think you're letting your personal feelings get involved.' You had to clear your head, he wasn't talking about you. He would never.

Your head shot up at the yell of your name, followed by- 'Crosshair, scout the East terrain, we will go West." Hunter commanded.

"Yes, sir." You responded instinctively, Crosshair nodding and turning.

You didn't even notice that Crosshair stopped and waited for you to catch up. You squinted your eyes behind your helmet and pushed back any thoughts.

Everything went smooth for a minute, silence consuming the air. Just the gentle sound of rocks crunching under your feet. It helped you shift your focus back to your surroundings, eyes searching for any intruders or a possible entrance to the tower.

While it was usually a calm and comfortable silence between you two, this was not. The air was thick, and needed cutting. You wondered if he noticed it as well.

"What's wrong with you?" His gravel voice started. He did notice it...

You snapped in his direction, you could practically see his scowl through his helmet.

"Nothing. I'm fine." You continued to walk.

"Stop that, we don't do the whole 'lie' thing." He was right, he always seemed to be. You could hear him fiddling with his rifle, but you didn't turn to look at him.

"Lets just focus on the mission, I wouldn't want my 'personal feelings' to get in the way." You said, picking up your step. You hated the way you jumped to conclusions. Sarcasm drips from your words. Passive aggressiveness was something you and Crosshair shared with many people, but rarely each other.

"Cut the shit." He said, grabbing your forearm. This took you by surprise, but it shouldn't have. He made sure to glance around the area, then took off his helmet.

"What Cross?" You were sour, having been lost in your thoughts.

You took off your helmet as well, then crossed your arms. You challenged him with a look in the eyes.

"It doesn't take my defect to know something is bothering you. We can't let it affect the mission. What is it?" He says fiercely. While he did seem pretty rude and demanding, it was more care then he'd show anyone else.

"So it's just about this mission?" Damn it, why would you say that. Especially after Crosshair was actually trying to find out what was wrong.

He scoffs and leans against a large rock. "Fine, screw up the mission for all I care." He puts a pick in between his teeth, then cocks his rifle. You don't flinch a bit when he shoots a small surveillance droid behind your left shoulder. You keep your eyes trained on his.

"I wouldn't leave you." He says, chewing on the pick, and lowering the rifle.

"Wha-"

"I know when something is bothering you."

"Yeah but, how-" He cuts you off again, stepping close to you. inches away.

"I'm always watching." He says, a smirk present.

You give him a playful smack on the arm, he just laughs. With a sigh the situation becomes serious again.

"Really?" You looked up at him,

"I was just trying to get under Rex skin. You know we don't leave brothers behind." You smiled, bigger than you had all day.

"What if I was a reg?" You say, now pulling at his arm so he was closer.

"But you're not, you're different." He points out, flicking his pick to the ground.

He deeply inhaled through his nose, pressing his forehead down onto yours. You were silent and still after closing your eyes to enjoy the moment.

Suddenly you heard a third parties movement. You dropped into a squat, Crosshair bringing his rifle to balance on your shoulder plate. The two of you worked in perfect unison.

It was just Wrecker.

"What are you two doing?" He asks, dumbfounded on what he walked upon.

"Uhm, nothing. This side's clear." You said, slowly turning around.

Crosshairs rifle was still cocked and ready with his finger on the trigger. Even in the heat of the moment, he was able to defend.

You swallowed, thinking about how attractive he was in that second.

"Hunter needs us back at the cliff. They found a way in." Wrecker says before heading off.

"We're coming." Crosshair says, annoyed.

You turn and smile at him before putting your helmet back on.

He does the same and follows closely behind you.

"Hey," He starts, grabbing your attention. "You can pull that with anyone you want, but next time just tell me. It goes a lot faster that way." Crosshair was sweet and gentle in his own way. He was saying 'I love you.'

"I love you too, Cross."

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I'm not super proud of this one, I think I rushed it. I love Crosshair sm, but I have no idea how to write him.

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

[m4rs-ex3]

s7 spoilers ✨✨

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ok

"death alive" fucking snipe me the insane death motif that seems to be present here is killing me pun intended

GRAAAHAHAHHGROWLS IM SO EXCITED I CAN TEVEN

"i don't want to be separated again"

"i don't want to be separated again"

stop it right tf now bc this is literally what i have been wanting one of them to say so badly. also smooch. dear christ

the fact that terry wants so badly for him and claudia to be free that he is pleading with fucking archmage aaravos himself. like ik they're partners in crime atp but still my guy has balls. the dedication. poor thing 😭

aaravos fucking leading claudia on with even more hope of viren being saved - his own backstory making the way he's manipulating her grief 10x more twisted - and terry seeing right through his bullshit..... im foaming at the mouth

fuckin.g- FOR ME?!?!?!?!?!?

CALLUM SOBBING OVER EZRAN??? (dreamer's nightmare was prepping us for this huh)

SOREN APOLOGIZING TO CALLUM?? (for what i do not know) EMOTIONAL CALLUM/SOREN HUG DEAR GOD ALL IVE EVER WANTED

the making of a primal stone, more moon magic, a quest for an ingredient, insane biblical imagery... once again, FOR ME??!?!?!?!??!

"AND THE CROWD GOES WILD!!!!"

NECROMANCY!! just what this show needed omg

astrid my love. i was a little worried post-s6/pre-date announcement that we really wouldn't see that much, if any, of the celestial elves, but oh ho ho i can't believe i ever doubted you tdp. like you're telling me that astrid is tired of watching, of being the wise observers (especially now that her own brother has been so far removed from, well, being a non-all-seeing prophet), and that all she wants is to, for once, do something about all the tragedy she knows is coming and hasn't been able to do anything about? christmas fucking morning i tell you

goddamn the true extent and emphasized tragedy of katolis has been brought up enough that you just know they're not messing around

NO STOP SEEING SARAI AND HARROW NEXT TO GROWN AND CURRENTLY FCUKED UP EZRAN IS GOING TO FUCKING DEMOLISH ME

obviously ez being angry is just wow omg teehee but just. immediately being so vengeful and wanting to "destroy him" with zero hang-ups is.......... yeah wow omg teehee

"it's great!" i genuinely trust that with my life

ok hello this will most certainly be the most incredible visual to ever exist holy shit. also this is making me realize that we've never actual seen ez on the throne in arc 2 and i mean that's insane enough

this is incredible what can i say. i can see it now: rayla shoving worms in his face like "JUST EAT THE FUCKING WORMS ITS GOOD FOR YOU ASSHOLE" and runaan fighting her like a toddler refusing to eat his vegetables (except it's the opposite bc it's a vegetarian father refusing to eat his grubs)

i love how out of touch aaravos is (makes sense after centuries underneath inside of a rock) bc in what world is this normal. i highly doubt they have snow white or the bible but still it's just human nature to be weirded tf out by that. also yes @zuppizup ur so right his affinity for fruit being played on is amazing

also corvus: yeah yeah uh huh right and what exactly is your name, sir? aaravos: ah yes my name! it's uh uhh i mean it's uhhhhhhhhhhh. jofus

TWO IN THE FIRST EPISODE (which worries me but anyhow) IN THE FORM OF A GOODBYE AND A REUNION AND IN FRONT OF EVERYONE TOO???? AS A TREAT??????????

i'm all for ezran ripping runaan to shreds but i can't exactly say i see the correlation here. although that is kinda funny. it's like when i can't find my phone or smth so i just look at my dog and go "whiskey did you eat it" (she's been asleep this whole time and also she has never eaten/chewed on an object in her life)

also help inigo montoya ahh

ok 1) i, much like everyone else, kinda presumed that the tension would mostly be between ezran and callum and he wouldn't really hold anything against rayla, but the act of straight up arresting him really makes me wonder how rayla's gonna react 2) i really need to see callum's reaction (mainly out of defending rayla, but also because i can see him kinda being like "HEY i JUST freed him bro fuck you") and 3) the way that it is emphasized that soren is the one to arrest him..... idk i just figured that between his love for rayla, his own daddy issues (+the fact that viren was the one to imprison him so it would kinda be like righting his wrong), and that harrow was in fact not his father so compared to ezran he'd have a lot less resentment (he was of course still his king and soren had to actually watch it so still some but like. comparatively) i didn't think he'd be this combative but i'm certainly not complaining. the more angst the merrier

AW YEAH BOYS SHES COMING TO KATOLIS!!!!!

this has been your incoherent, feral mars commentary.* thank you

[jayjj7]

chapter 28. dinner

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even though you knew this was coming, walking into your boss’ office is nerve wracking. danielle is already in his office, sitting on a spare chair, turning her head upon seeing you walk in. you shoot her a small smile and stand behind danielle to give ryo and tae some space to walk into the office.

your hands are resting on danielle’s shoulders, gently rubbing against her doctors coat. she brings up a hand to hold yours, rubbing her thumb against each individual digit of your yours.

nervousness was an understatement, you were scared shit-less about losing your job. it wasn’t that you disliked your job, you loved it in fact, it was just the conditions that made you dread clocking in every day.

“it has been brought to my attention that i have been giving my employees…” your boss motions his hands forward to put an emphasis on everyone in the room.

“an unfair imbalance of pay and recognition” he looks down at his desk, fixing his name plate so it’s straighter than before.

ryo automatically furrows his eyebrows in frustration, expecting something huge in return. tae on the other hand, keeps a composed demeanor while staring at your boss.

“which is why i will make sure everyone is payed the same starting today, i will also be paying for your guys’ dinner” you could tell your boss had no intention on ever doing so. the light, subtle sweat on his forehead only puts you in a bad mood.

“thank you sir” ryo reaches his hand out to shake the boss’ while smiling and laughing hysterically.

danielle sighs before dropping her phone down on the table, clearly annoyed and angry. she stands up and takes a hold of minji’s arm to pull her behind where danielle was headed. they make their way to the bathroom without any discussion, minji’s facial expression declared indifference, it was like she knew this was coming.

“minji what are you doing?” danielle crosses her arms across her chest, holding eye contact with minji after entering the bathroom.

“i’m not doing anything” minji holds her hands up as if she was surrendering.

“what is your problem with y/n? i already told you we solved everything!” danielle leans closer to minji out of frustration, trying to make a point.

“okay so what if that happens again dani? huh? she lashes out on you again over something you can’t control, then what?” minji speaks louder in hopes of knocking some sense into danielle.

“there was a reason why she was mad okay? she apologized and that was it! you don’t have to look out for me this much! you are crossing the line!” danielle swings her arms as she talks, out of breath by the time she’s finished speaking.

“dani, why do you keep giving her excuses? because if this was anyone else, you would not be this nice or forgiving!” minji shakes her head as she talks.

danielle always had a response for everything she was told, whether that was an answer to a question, a suggestion, or in this case: a witty remark. but this time was different, danielle was silent, unable to respond to minji. this caused for minji to continue asking questions.

“why are you taking care of her? because she looks fine to me!” she laughs. “is she even paying rent?” “ why do you always hide her from us?” minji talks faster.

“i mean you practically live with the girl and still i know nothing about her?” she rests her hands on her hips.

“because i like y/n!” danielle shouts, shutting minji up and causing her to leave her mouth agape.

“i like y/n! i’m giving her the benefit of the doubt for being immature not only because she’s sick, but because i like her!” danielle rubs her temple.

“she’s living with me because the doctors said i should look after her for a week or two and i like taking care of her! i called her my wife and i like the thought of it! okay minji? is that what you wanted?” danielle is stressed out, she looks drained after her speech.

after a moment of silence, minji speaks:

“you can’t date her”

taglist : [ @modanisgf @greenniee @milfcr @idkwhatim-doinghere101 @urwyf3 @flolio @imahallucination11 @pandafuriosa60 @kaypanaq @nnewjeansstuff @haerinkisser @brocoliisscared @starrynini05 @l-e-e-woso @kimminjiswife @herlv3r @linnnsworld @multiliker @jisooftme @beanwtf1 @trovao-penguins ] taglist is open !! comment to be added !

[coolprettyleo]

everything has changed - jack hughes

wc: 1.5k

tw: first dates, cringe?, falling, doubts, chessiness.

jack hughes x oc

so highschool au

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

marley thought she was going borderline mad.

the brunette stared into the mirror, finally feeling okay-ish with the outfit she chose for her very first date, ever.

jack had been very adamant that the date would be a surprise so the girl had no idea what the hockey player had in store. they had been texting on snapchat ever since he confronted her a couple days ago, and she wasn't in any way complaining.

she had been having doubts about accepting his date offer due to the fact she realized she was a busy girl and she didn't know if she even had time for a boyfriend.

but of course, jack was there to soothe her worries away, and let her know that he, too, was always busy, and if they were meant to be, they'd make it work.

she smoothed down her skirt as she heard the doorbell ring. not thinking jack would actually get out of the car, she ignored it, thinking it was one of her father's friends. only realizing it was him till she heard jack's voice. her eyes went wide as she reached for her bag and basically sprinted down the stairs.

only to get down and see her father smiling at jack, who held a bouquet of daises.

"you didn't tell me you had a date," her father teased once he noticed she had come down.

her father was never the crazy overprotective father unless he needed to be. surprising many people due to the fact it had only been the two of them growing up. her mother had left the picture when she was about three, leaving the two of them to figure it out. the father-daughter bond between them was a close one, so he trusted her and her decisions.

"it must have slipped my mind. i'm sorry," she apologized, honestly feeling bad about not telling him.

"you're fine," he said, shaking his head as he walked into the kitchen, leaving her to focus back on jack, who had a goofy smile on his face.

"you look really pretty," he said as he handed her the flowers

"thank you, you bought me flowers?" she asked surprised.

"what kind of gentlemen would it make me if I didn't?" he asked as he heard her father chuckle from the other room. before he came in holding a camera probably recording.

"smile for the camera," he ushered them to pose.

"dad," she said, a bit embarrassed as jack giggled.

"you're the only one complaining; jack's ready!" he said as she looked back at jack, who was already posing.

she sighed before posing for the picture, flowers in hand.

"alright. i'll let you two get going. don't have her out too late son" he said as jack said 'of course sir'

the two teens walked out of the house, and jack opened the door for her and let out a goofy "m'lady" as she smiled.

"i'm sorry about my dad-"

"don't apologize; now we have a picture to recreate on our wedding day," he casually said as her head whipped around to the boy.

"wedding day?" she asked with raised eyebrows as he drove

"i'm in this for the long run," he told her as she looked at him like he had three heads.

"you're one of a kind, jack hughes," she chuckled, shaking her head. he smiled at her before giving her aux,

"here, play me something"

"which song?" she said scrolling through his playlist

"no, something from your playlist," he said as she thought about a song. she typed in her name, clicked on her Spotify profile, scrolling through her playlist.

she clicked on, 'everything has changed' by taylor swift as jack smiled.

"a taylor swift girl?" he asked her

"yeah. if you don't like it i'll change it-"

"no. I like it, I never really listen to her, but I like it," he said, turning it up as she smiled. the two listened to the song really taking in the lyrics and relating in every way possible.

___

"i really liked that song. send it to me" he said as they pulled into the side of the road. they were in a place that overlooked plymouth, and the city lights shined as bright and beautiful as ever.

"what is this place?" she asked as she looked at the lights

"one time my mom took my brothers and I for a ride and we found this place, I come here often," he told her as she listened

"It's beautiful," she said, reaching for the door as he stopped her.

"you're gonna have to get used to not opening your own doors when I'm around," he said before running around the hood and opening it for her as she shook her head.

"it's going to go to my head if you keep doing that,"

"that's fine with me. I can handle it," he teased as she stepped closer to the edge. to see stairs leading to a small picnic table. jack opened the trunk and picked up a picnic basket.

"my mom made us sandwiches," he said with a pink blush as they walked to the bench.

"that's so thoughtful; tell her I said thank you," she said.

"marnie told me you don't like ham, so that's a turkey sandwich," he said as she furrowed her eyebrows.

"you've talked to marnie?" she said, not believing he had really put this much thought into their date.

"yeah, she was way more intimidating than your dad," he said as she laughed.

"that's marnie for you," she told him as he nodded.

"just wait till you meet overprotective trevor" he told her

"is that what he was doing at practice?" she asked as she remembered how the boy kept making 'im watching you' gestures at her.

"he's an idiot" he chuckled as she took a bite out of the sandwich.

"so are you from plymouth?" the boy asked

"no, I was born in chicago, but my dad and I moved here when I was three. but it's all I've ever known, so basically. what about you?" she said

"well, i was born in florida, but we moved around a lot. like luke was born in new hampshire. but when I was about five, my dad got a job in toronto, and we stayed there up until quinn entered the program," he told the girl.

"you had a brother in the program?" she asked

"yeah, his name's quinn. he was drafted last year. he plays for umich right now though" he told her as her eyes went wide

"oh my gosh what did your mom feed the two of you" she chuckled

"three of us. i have a younger brother too, he should be joining the program next year" he told her as she raised her eyebrows

"hockey has to be in your genetics at that point," she said

"basically. but in all honestly we just work really hard it" he told her

"is this a bad time to tell you I don't know a thing about hockey?" she said sheepishly

"i figured. it's okay, we'll work on it" he said smiling at the girl

"trying to change me?" she teased

"just that little flaw. i like everything else" he told her as she blushed and looked down.

the two continued to talk about anything and everything as the time slipped through the cracks. only realized the time when she saw jack begin to pack up.

"we should head back before it gets too late," he said as she nodded, remembering the promise he had made to her dad earlier.

the two teens climbed into the car as jack played 'everything has changed' again, as marley side eyed him.

"what! I really liked the song," he said as she giggled. they drove as jack told her more about his family. she honestly loved hearing about his family. don't get her wrong, she was so grateful for what she had, but she longed for the feeling of having siblings or even having a mother sometimes.

they pulled into marley's driveway, and jack made it his mission to make sure she wouldn't open a door for herself.

"i really had fun with you tonight," she nervously told him as they stood on her porch. her anxiety was skyrocketing through the roof due to the fact in the movies, this was about the time she had to kiss the guy. it's not like she didn't want to, but this would be her first kiss.

"I did, too; I want to do this again," he told her

"me too," she said, smiling as she nervously stared at him, waiting for him to lean in.

"I should get going, goodnight pretty," he told her as he began to walk away. leaving the girl dumbfounded. no kiss, no hug, nothing.

maybe he didn't have as much fun as she thought he did. making the girl feel like an idiot because she had the absolutely best time.

[delreyshit]

As a surrender

Summary: Your relationship with Ghost is not the best. But feelings are undeniable for him. Everything changes when your life seems to be in danger. Note: Not very explicit but it does contain sexual scenes(oral sex). The perspective in which I wrote this is not what I'm used to, but I hope you like it.

Warning: the reader can identify with the character of “Lisa Muñoz”, this is just a name I use for the background of the story but if you still don't like the fact that the reader is not textually represented, I'm sorry.

When you joined the task force, it was Ghost that caught your attention the most. A man with a suit that made him look even more corpulent than he already was and a mysterious mask, which hid his identity, caught your attention as soon as you met the lieutenant. You were delighted by Ghost's mysterious attractiveness, but, that vanished a few seconds after they spoke for the first time. You remember very well, the first time you met, you didn't talk at all, he was minding his own business and you just admired his masculine body and... Did I mention strapping? For someone not very tall like you, that man could be intimidating with his presence. The second time you bumped into each other, that's when the mutual contempt and hatred between you broke out.

“Lisa… Who the hell is Lisa Muñoz?” Ghost's irritated voice was heard, between the walls of the operating room.

The murmurs were not long in coming, people felt nervous, which made you feel reckless as you rose from your seat. His eyes rested on your weak figure. He folded his arms, waiting for you to approach him.

“Do you need something, Sir?” you asked, feeling the bile rise in your throat fearing to be the source of his bad mood.

“Yes, I need to know how on earth you were employed. Your report is awful, I've never read anything so terrible before.” He fanned the envelope in your face, cutting the few feet of distance between you.

“The report is thorough. I doubt there's anything important missing in there.” You replied, somewhat annoyed by his sadistic attitude.

He watched you, impressed that you confronted him instead of giving him some apologies for, as he saw it, a barely perfunctory job. He pushed the enclosed folder to your chest and with a tense jaw said, “Do it again, I want it ready by eight o'clock tomorrow. If you don't deliver something that meets my expectations, I'll make sure my superiors fire you.”

The jerk had you all night working up at least 3 different versions of an old mission report (just in case he didn't like any of them). The next day, when you turned in your very hard work, he didn't bother to tell you, “I guess that's what I can settle for. It could have been better…”

A total jerk, no doubt. Sometimes when you were in a good mood, you tried to empathize with him by being “nice.” You always failed because, to whatever it was, Ghost would respond rudely. He didn't like you and you didn't quite know why. The truth was far from what you thought, Ghost was captivated and even almost in love with you and your loving way of being. He hated himself for that, being close to you he was vulnerable and didn't like to experience emotions like that. In his eyes, from the first moment he saw you, you became the most exquisite woman he had ever seen. I mean, Ghost wasn't a virgin man or anything like that, God knows everything that man has done, but with such a complicated life he never thought about love. You were always good at doing your job and people love you, especially men and he always knew that. That's why every time he sought you out to belittle what you did, all he would say to you were poor excuses so he could talk to you and of course it was his jealousy showing through. He never knew how to handle his feelings, which is exactly why he thought it was best to be a bully to you.

His hateful attitude changed when you started accompanying him on missions, he often worried about your health and despite teasing you for feeling nervous. Although when the two of you started to suffer from the uncomfortable atmosphere, he could think of nothing better than to tell jokes. They were strange and boring, but you felt almost blessed that he wasn't treating you harshly for a few minutes. They used to distract you from the fear and started to help you and Ghost get along better, gradually you felt closer.

Neither of you imagined that the next mission you would be alone on would turn your relationship upside down.

“When can we rest?” you asked with a yawn. “I don't know… But you should have slept before we started the mission.” Ghost muttered, from the other radio.

“I'd like some coffee.” “Maybe, when you get caught you can ask the narcs for a couple of beans, surely they must have some.” “What do you mean, when they catch you?” You asked quizzically. “They won't have a hard time catching you, Lisa. You're sleepy and alone, plus you always screw something up.” “Fuck you. I'll still beat you to the package. “You whispered as you walked down a narrow hallway.

“We'll see about that, doll.” He mocked you back.

You stopped your steps when you reached the entrance to a large lighted hallway/balcony. You walked to the edge of the metal floor and peeked out, careful not to fall, taking a close look at the drug-filled tanks.

<<What the fuck is all this>> you thought.

“Apparently you were right, you got here before-” Ghost's sudden voice from behind you took you by surprise. You panicked and by instinct your body lurched as you spun around. Your feet slipped and you fell. The muffled cry that came from your lips, calling out to him, sent Ghost running to the shore.

“Shit, shit, shit…” shouted Ghost, frightened for you.

He didn't hesitate a second longer and jumped in your search, to your rescue. Your body plunged into a tank full of grams and like quicksand, the tons of dope pressed down on your body, drowning you quickly. Ghost fell with momentum into the same tank you were already in. The strength of his body helped him avoid being trapped. The lack of oxygen kept you asleep for quite a while, as Ghost struggled to pull you out. When he finally found you, his big arms grabbed your hips, pulling you close and pressing your body against his, keeping you from being separated by the pressure.

He swam to the outside and while he held your fragile body with one hand, he levered the edge of the tank with the other to get you out. He held you like a sack of potatoes as he walked across the rough floor. He stopped on a roofed place and, with great delicacy, supported you on the pavement. He sat on you while holding your jaw. He took off a glove and with two fingers searched your neck for any sign of a pulse.

<<She is unstable, fuck>> he thought as he sighed in anguish.

“Lisa.” He mumbled a couple of times. However, you didn't wake up.

He lifted his mask up to his nose and slowly bent down until he was level with your face. His hands moved to your nape and jaw, holding you firmly as he pressed his lips together, giving you oxygen.

You moaned in pleasure as Ghost's soft caresses spread over you, opening your eyes as you smiled. Ghost pulled away, embarrassed and confused.

“What the fuck?” “You fell for it, you fool. You thought I was dying and-”

He didn't listen to your taunts, he understood perfectly well that you had wanted to scare him, give him a bit of his comeuppance. Bravely, he leaned in to taste the flesh of your lips again. As soon as your mouths met, your tongues danced with each other playing foully. Ghost lay on top of your body as you both rubbed each other with need. When you separated for lack of oxygen, a thin line of saliva held you together. You regulated your breathing, dazed.

“I think we need to finish the mission…” you whispered, still unwilling to let go of Ghost.

“No way, the mission can wait.” He answered you.

You didn't notice when your thighs were pressing against Ghost's head.

“You taste fucking sweet.” He babbles drunkenly for you as his tongue sucks intensely at your hole.

Your fingernails scratch the hard cement of the floor and your back arches with each suck Ghost makes on your needy hole. His fingers move between your belly and your extremely sensitive clit, warming you with every mark he leaves in his wake.

“Come on, baby. Lubricate my face.”

His warm breath crashing into you, drooling as he urges you to cum makes you dizzy. He playfully digs his teeth into your swollen lips, making you moan incoherent sounds. You were so shattered when he thrust a thick finger into you, that with tears running down your cheeks you come hard into his mask and mouth.

No doubt it was going to be a very long night….

Extra note: English is not my first language, so I apologize in case there are some mistakes, I try to get better every day. Also if you think I need to work on something, don't doubt to let me know.

[otakubimbo]

CheckMate

The Pawn

Yukuza Sukuna x f!reader

What is going on between you and Ryomen Sukuna The King of Curses.

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masterlist

Since the chess match where you finally told Ryomen your name, it had become usual to play chess with him almost every day. You may have missed his presence on the days you didn’t see him, but you would never admit that even to yourself. The man even started walking you to the café or the library after your matches most of the time joining you for a while. And you talked and talked on and on to him about everything and anything, which was so uncharacteristically like you, more of the silent type. He was just so easy to talk to, words flowing out naturally as if the two of you had been acquainted for much longer. You had never been open to other someone before, like this besides your cousin, the family not allowing for many connections outside of themselves. But this was your little secret; unbeknownst to you, you were also his.

The more time the King of Curses spent with you, the more he realized you truly didn’t have any useful information on the Zennins but for some reason, he could not stop himself from seeing you. If anything, he thought you hated them even more than himself. The way you spoke of them as if the name itself were poison on your tongue, especially when speaking of your cousin who was fulfilling the duties of exactly what a Zennin wife should be doing. Your concern for her was the whole reason that you were in his city, the reason you were always at the Zennin estate. The passion in your voice and your conviction to keep her sane and happy was admirable to him. But at the end of the day, you were just a woman associated by proxy with the wrong people to be around. Your value to his goals of information dwindling more and more every day and yet he couldn’t stop seeing you.

This fact was brought to his full attention as he was preparing for a business trip that was going to take him away for a while. It was an important trip to obtain more legitimate businesses. He needed more revenue above ground, to keep the underground under ground. As he was preparing all the final paperwork to bring with him and any other necessities, he was visited by his most trusted right hand, Urame.

“Sir, before your departure there is something I would like to discuss.” they said, standing in the doorway of his office hands politely crossed in front of them. It wasn’t unusual for them to come speak with him if he was about to depart from the estate for an extended period of time.  Ryomen doesn’t even lift his head to acknowledge them.

“Speak”

“Well sir, it’s about the woman” They start and that immediately pulls his attention to the door. They didn’t have to say who the woman was because it could be no one other than you. “The Zennins have been more active than ever, and I am unsure if she does obtain any information on them. And I do not doubt your judgment or your choices I would never even think of that but it is a concern of mine”

“She should be none of your concern” he starts with a scowl on his face, “There may not be any information that we can get from her but her relationship with them could be useful to us. She is just a pawn to infiltrate their compound. We have no other ins with the Zennins.”

Urame took a small inhale unsure if they believed truly what the head was saying but by the tone in his voice it was best to have those thoughts kept inside. Ryomen’s temper was fickle on the best of days, they have seen him do worse things to people for less.

“Of course, sir, I should have known that there were still plans in motion. My apologies.” A low bow of apology followed the statement.

Ryomen scoffs as he finishes collecting the needed paperwork, “As the head, my decisions should never be questioned. I have built this organization up past what my father and his before him had ever accomplished. I am the reason this place stands today. I built this whole estate. Me and me alone”

It was true, they were one of the oldest still-functioning families, but they were small. The underground dealings they had were local. When Ryomen became head of the family with the death of his grandfather, that’s when they started to expand, he’s the one who put so many people in the positions that they are now. He did what the men before him couldn’t do and he did it in blood. And out of that blood grew an organization that was feared and revered. Even a whisper of the family name would send deeper shivers down the spines of most people. All thanks to Ryomen Sukuna himself.

“Of course, sir, again I apologize.”

“If that’s all you had to say, then you may leave to get my car ready. We have more important things to worry about.” His words made Urame back out of the room with their head still bowed.

Ryomen scoffed at the retreat, how dare anyone even think that they should be conceded for him about you. You were just a means to an end; a pawn being put in a position to secure his territory lines. Nothing more than that, you were nothing more than that. That’s what he kept telling himself, even as the phone in his pocket vibrated, in the back of his mind hoping that it was you. It was you wishing him a safe travel on his trip. No, the King of Curses surely didn’t pause your message. You were just a pawn to him; he had no feelings outside of that. He was not a man capable of those kinds of feelings anyway, but that didn’t stop his response telling you that of course he would be safe and how he planned to beat you in a match when he returns. And of course, the smirk that graced his lips when you replied “you wish” with a heart after it was just because it was obvious his plan was working, and you were becoming fonder of him. It was nothing more than that, nothing more than that.

The soft smile that graced your face as you walked alongside your cousin made her steps falter. She had never seen you look so happy before; she doesn’t think she’s ever seen you smile that wasn’t forced.

“Oh, the apocalypse must be happening” your cousins voice pulls you out of your phone.

“What?” You ask your face returning to its natural resting position.

“You’re smiling at your phone, genuinely smiling. An apocalypse must be coming. There can’t be any other answer.”

“Rae, I was not smiling. And you’re being dramatic. I do smile” you scoff putting your phone up.

“Well of course you smile but you don’t ever genuinely smile like you’re happy about something” she comments nudging you, trying to coax you into spilling the gossip.

“I’ve just been playing chess with someone new,” you say dismissively, not wanting to divulge into something that this wasn’t.

“So not an old man?” Rae raises a suggestive brow at you.

“Well, no. He is not.”

“Ah, you have always been the rebellious one. Now dating a man not picked by the family. How scandalous” She giggles as she takes in your irritated expression.

“We are not dating; we just play chess together” you defend giving her a playful shove

“Just chess huh? Then why does he have your phone number?? Hmmm?? I’m sure those uncles at the park don’t have your number.”

“The uncles don’t even know how to work their phones” you reply with a roll of your eyes ignoring her question. The slight blush she can see creeping up onto your face stops her from teasing you further. She doesn’t point out how you didn’t answer the question of why he has your phone number.

But you do remember the day you gave it to him. He had joined you during one of your study sessions at the café after you demolished him, in a few matches of course. By this time, you had told him that you were getting your PHD in English literature and were working on your dissertation. That day he had asked if he could join you since he had some legal work for one of his businesses to go through. He told small things about the work that he does, you didn’t know exactly what they were, but you could tell it was difficult to deal with, he always had a stressed expression on his face. With his appearance, you wouldn’t have thought he was a businessman but the way he spoke about it you could tell he was responsible for a lot of the decisions, and he took it seriously.

As the two of you sat in the café, you kept stealing glances at him as his gaze is focused on the documents in front of him. He looked more stressed than usual, there was a set to his jaw and a furrow in his brow. Your curiosity was getting the better of you.

“Is it complicated paperwork?” You ask taking a sip from your coffee mug, his head slowly rises to meet your gaze, and he looks at you confused. “The legal documents, you look stressed.”

He scoffs as he throws the papers down, “The bastards are trying to get over on me on the sale of this business. They think I’m stupid”

“Hmmn” you consider your next question before asking, “Is it a Japanese business”

“Yeah,” a scowl appeared on his face at the thought of the slimy businessmen behind this deal. He truly does hate the fact that he must maintain some legitimate businesses. It’s always been much easier to take things by force, in blood.

“Have you ever thought about working with foreigners? They’re usually so eager to open businesses here, some even desperate for the market which usually makes their selling prices low.”

A look of surprise that you didn’t expect to see cross his face for just a moment before his brows furrowed again in thought. He never even considered working with foreigners. As he thinks over your words, you’re scribbling down your phone number without a second thought.

“I’m fluent in four different languages, mandarin, German, English, and French. If you ever need a translator.” You suggest as you slide over the paper with your number on it. Your parents always had you be the translator for them with their foreign contacts. It was a skill that your mother deemed necessary, something to make you more useful, more valuable. Your mother knew how easy it was for women to be disposed of in the family.

Ryomen was taken aback by your offer, he had never had anyone besides Urame willingly volunteer to aid him. Everything he had was taken by violence or bribery but here you were offering your services for seemingly nothing in return. He picked up your number from the table, contemplating before pocketing it.

“I’ll consider it.” He states plainly with an almost irritated tone to his voice. “I have to go.”

You tilt your head in the abrupt shift in mood from him, that look making him clench his teeth as he picks up his stuff. His movements rushed as he left without even saying a proper goodbye. The interaction was truly strange to you, but you tried not to dwell on it. That night Ryomen requested Urame to find an interpreter immediately. You don’t see him for a week after that, nor did you text you. And then when he saw you again, already surrounded by the chess-playing uncles he acted as if that weird moment between the two of you never happened. He even texted you that same night, stating he’s been looking into foreign businesses to buy. A sense of pride that you’ve never really felt when it came over you. Your mother always said you had the brains for business but with the family that you were in it was unlikely that you would be able to use it. And yet, you did.

You were still lost in thought on the exchange between you and Ryomen then you didn’t even notice your cousin had stopped walking beside you. Rae clears her throat from a distance to catch your attention.

“Huh?” You spin around realizing that you just left her behind. She giggles as she skips up to come back next to you, looping your arms.

“So we are going to go to my room and you’re going to tell me all about it.” She states before she starts dragging you behind it, ignoring your pleas to just drop it.

[gaycragula]

Hey may I ask for a part two of Refound Family only now that the kid is now joining the task force and that he passed all of the test like it was sliding on ice (easy and smooth) then one day they meet on a mission and the kido team and 141 decided to team up for that one mission because they had gotten the order to take down the same terrorist organisation.

Lead the Way, Private

Pairing: Task Force 141 x M!Reader (Platonic/Paternal) Part 2 of the Refound family short Warning(s): very vaguely hinted relationship with your sergeant, captain m!reader, military setting, hinted at minor character death like super duper vaguely, random callsigns for extra characters Extra Note: I've no clue how the military works so I apologize in advance Word Count: 1558 Masterlist

The weight of your gear had become a welcome feeling along with the feel of the wind on your face as you and your team were transported to a secondary hangar. 

After you’d found your family, you’d decided to join the military. Your adoptive parents were hesitant at first, trying to get you to think about it. You’d told Price about your wishes and your parents' doubts. 

The next time you’d spoken to them, they were supportive but still hesitant. You assume Price had a talk with them.

That had been 10 years ago. You’d gotten through boot camp without many difficulties despite being one of the older guys there. Most had been teenagers, fresh out of high school. There were only two or three other guys in their 20s like you.

 You were in your 30s, sitting comfortably in the position of captain. You wore the medal with pride.

 You’d been with your men for just over 9 years. Three of them as a sergeant and four as a lieutenant before you got your current position. Your men respected you. You’d been with them long enough to know what they were capable of and rarely ever pushed them past what they were able to do. They trusted and respected you.

There was only one person on your team who proved difficult. The newest soldier who joined just after you’d been promoted to captain. Torch was the name he’d made for himself. He seemed to find joy in testing the waters in how far he could push you. He didn’t succeed in getting far very often. 

The helicopter landed and you were the first to land on the concrete of the hangar and you came face to face with another man.

It wasn’t new to be assigned a mission with another team. Especially taking down a big terrorist organization. So getting off the helicopters and finding yourself face to face with the captain of another team was not unusual. You expected it.

What you didn’t expect was the captain to be none other than John Price. He seemed just as surprised to see you before he was pulling you into a tight but brief hug with a laugh. 

“Captain?” The word was echoed by two different people.

You turned to look at your Sergeant and Price turned to where Soap had just called for him.

“Yes Sergeant?” You hum, adjusting your vest momentarily as you step away from Price. You just barely miss the look Price gives you before he’s repeating your actions, walking towards Soap to see what he needed.

“You know him?” Your Sergeant asked. You nod with a smile.

“Long story. I’ll have to tell you about it later.”

“Better keep your word, sir,” the sergeant teases.

You let out a laugh, nudging the soldier playfully. “When have I not?”

You almost miss the look of disdain pass over one of the private’s face before they were turning away from you. You take a mental note before telling your men to grab their gear and head inside. 

–

“Sooo.. Captain?” Gaz whistles as you sit down across from him. “Moving up quick, kid.”

 You roll your eyes with a low chuckle. “Gotta prove I’m not a little kid anymore,” you joke as you lean back in your chair. 

Gaz laughs, shaking his head. The room began to fill up, your sergeant taking the seat to your left while Soap took the seat to your right. A quick debrief before you went out into the field. A much needed 30 minutes of information spewing on what the plan was.

You were reviewing with your men, making sure they had it drilled in their heads who they would be working with. The private gave you a look and you shot one back at him. “Is there an issue, Torch?” You ask. Your voice was louder than it needed to be and, even with the balaclava covering his face, you can tell you’ve embarrassed him.

“No sir,” he mumbles, eyes shifting to his boots. A huff leaves your mouth and you order your men on the carrier. They were quick to do so and you could hear your sergeant say something to the private.

You walked over to where Price was standing speaking to Ghost. Ghost nods to you in acknowledgement as you stop next to Price. He dismisses Ghost onto the carrier before turning to you. 

“All set, Cap,” you hum. “Ready for takeoff.”

“Atta boy,” Price chuckles, ruffling your hair like he used to when you were a boy. “Let’s get goin’ then.”

He pats you on the back as you turn to join your men, taking the hand your sergeant offered you to hoist you into the carrier. The aircraft shook for a moment as it took off before it was speeding towards your drop off location.

–

Drop off was quick. Everyone grabbed their weapons and got out of the way so the carriers could take back off and leave you in silence. 

The group waited for the sound of the carriers to fall off completely before beginning the 15 mile trek to your target. Price led the group while you brought up the rear. Leaves crunched under boots and you wondered for a moment why they decided to do this in the middle of autumn. 

At the 10 mile mark, four men branched off. Two to the east and two to the west. The designated snipers. All four were your men. Your sergeant and your corporal went west. Your lieutenant and one of the privates went east. 

“They good shots?” Ghost asks, falling in line next to you.

“Killer,” you nod, finding joy in the amused huff Ghost gave in reply.  With the four branching off, that left yourself, all four of the 141, and two of your privates. “Trust them with my life.”

“Good to have that trust,” Ghost hums as he glances at the other three members of his team. “How long have you been with them?”

“Spent Three years as a sergeant with them. Four as a lieutenant and two so far as their captain,” you answer. “Been on the team for 9 years. With my men for 8.”

Ghost casts a sideways glance that you ignore. You didn’t feel like going into detail and he seemed to respect the silent wish as he didn’t press on the matter. “How are your parents?”

“Good. They’ve come to terms with my decision. We write to each other whenever we can,” you smile. Ghost hums and it seemed that was the end of the conversation. It was rare for you to talk to him for long. He’d rather give you encouraging pats on the back or be a shoulder to cry on than hold a conversation.

You never minded. When you were younger, it was rare for Ghost to be alone anyway. Soap was always around and talked enough for both of them. You’re sure it still rings true now. 

The line came to a halt as the building you’d be sweeping peeked over a hill. “What’s it looking like down there, Kicker?” You ask  over the radio.

Static before your lieutenant answered. “About fifty gathered to the east. Unloading materials from the looks of it. Lots of cars coming in and out.”

“Sergeant?”

“‘Bout fifteen keeping guard 30 yards from the back entrance, Cap,” your sergeant answers. 

You thank both of them and nod to Price. “We go east,” you say.

“You sure?” Your private quips. You turned to the man, fighting the urge to snarl. 

“Would you like to go west, Torch?” You ask. You manage to keep your voice steady. “If you would like to do so, please lead the way.”

You make a show of gesturing to the west, watching the soldier intently. The private didn’t say anything for a moment and you let out a huff. “Soap, come with,” you say before looking at Price who nodded. “We’re going west. Price, Gaz, and Ghost, roll out east.”

The private sputtered on whatever he was going to say next, choking out an apology. You huffed in response, nudging the soldier forward with a scowl. “Too late to back down, private. But we will be having a chat when we get back,” you hiss, gesturing for Soap to join yourself and both of your privates. You saw your other private hit Torch over the back of his head, cursing him out.

“Aye, Captain,” Soap nods, glaring at Torch as he moved to stand next to you. 

You repeat the change of plans to the four snipers, waiting for acknowledgement before you start west. 

“Quit starin’ boys,” Price chuckles, pulling Ghost’s and Gaz’s attention back to himself. “He’ll be fine. That private is in for one hell of a talking to.”

“Didn’t think he would’ve had it in him,” Gaz muses as the three of them head east. “Always was a soft spoken kid. Rare to get him riled up.”

“Can’t help but be proud of him can you?” Price chuckles. 

Ghost let out a hum of agreement. You weren’t their little boy anymore. You aren’t the boy they pulled from that smoking rubble, who latched onto them, screaming and crying when you were adopted. You were a man now and you didn’t need the protection you needed all those years ago.

[zeruby16]

extra credit- kim jiwoong

18+ MDNI

genre: smut, fluff, romance

summary: when you're in dire need of extra credit after butchering your classical literature paper, you ask your class ta, jiwoong, for help.

word count: 3.3 k

warnings: afab! reader, dom jiwoong; usage of pet names (sweetheart, angel, good girl); cursing; oral sex (giving); fingering; penetration; protected sex (always use protection); slightest degradation kink; slight sir kink; slight exhibitionism; please let me know if i missed any!

notes: um..hey y'all so i'm back. trust me when i say this took me like three months to write because being in school made me so uninspired😭 i had major writers block and still do, but my bestie motivated me to finish this. anyways, i have not grammer checked this at all, so please spare me. i hope you all enjoy and i'll try to write more if i can!

REMINDER: 18+ MDNI

you hated the word validation, yet it’s all you’ve ever wanted.

in school, at home, with your friends, you craved hearing people compliment your hard work. 

it made you feel like you were in ecstasy.

so you’d be damned if you got a b in classical literature. it would ruin your perfect gpa, your reputation with your experienced professors, and your sanity.

you needed an a. you were going to get that a.

your main obstacle was an analysis paper on pride and prejudice. 

pride and prejudice for god’s sake.

everything would’ve been fine if jane austen wrote in understandable sentences, but here you were struggling to comprehend how the hell elizabeth fell for mr. darcy. 

the paper was due today and you submitted whatever you could online, but you remembered your professor’s words.

“every project will be graded by me, every paper will be graded by your teacher’s assistant, kim jiwoong.”

kim jiwoong was well-known throughout your university. he was a graduate student who helped out all of his previous professors. it was very noble of him.

he was also the most beautiful man to exist. any girl dropped at his sight, including you.

you were already familiar with jiwoong.

since his previous professors were in the same major as yours, you already had him as a ta for another class.

the other class, the english renaissance, was the worst class you’ve taken. 

you had done perfectly well on every assignment, but then your final happened to be cumulative and you could not remember an ounce of anything pertaining to shakespeare. 

you caved and confided in jiwoong as you always struggled with cumulative finals. then, you scored a 96 on the final.

half of it was on shakespeare. you should’ve failed, but you always got an a.

you knocked on the door twice before waiting for his response.

“come in!”

once you opened the door, you were met with his focused eyes. 

jiwoong was one of the nicest people you knew. he helped anyone who struggled left and right. he even offered tutoring to the students who couldn’t comprehend what went on in lecture.

you had no doubt that he was probably reviewing someone’s paper right now, so they could submit a better product. 

“what can i do for you y/n?” you noticed the slight change in his posture, he had to have a clue as to what you were planning.

“i submitted my analysis paper, but i wanted to stop by and mention how i didn’t comprehend anything from the book,” your eyes contained a hint of dejection. 

“i can’t do anything about it, you already submitted it,” he sternly said, you could see his hand gripping the pen he was using harder.

“i know, but i wanted to apologize beforehand. austen’s works are complex and i read the book three times, but i couldn’t conjure anything in the paper,”

“i tried jiwoong, for weeks, but nothing.”

he sighed while leaning back on his chair. it was working.

“you never struggle with papers,” he mentioned suspiciously.

“sometimes i do, it’s rare though. i’ve only ever struggled once throughout college,” you emphasized. 

“what are you trying at y/n?”

“i was just wondering if there was an opportunity for extra credit,” you innocently asked. you wanted him to give in. you needed him to give in.

he pushes back his hair in distress, while staring you up and down. he may have only dealt with you once, but he knew your ruse.

“you know how wrong this is,”

“jiwoong, i am an adult, you’re an adult. there is absolutely nothing stopping us,” you moved closer to his desk, leaning on it while placing your arms down.

“my integrity will,” you chuckled.

you neared his face as you whispered in his ear, “it hasn’t stopped you before.”

“god the things you make me feel,” he muttered under his breath. you moved away from him, enjoying the teasing.

you walked backward toward the door silently begging for him to stand up. to come rush by your side and help you.

you were in dire need of his assistance.

“do you know how hard it is to see you in class?” he started, standing slowly from his chair.

“to see you laughing with those idiotic boys? to see them staring at you like they have a chance?”

jiwoong makes his way towards you, backing you into the door.

“i’m only having fun,” 

“they can’t handle you y/n. you’re the smartest one in your batch and your beauty is unmatched. they don’t stand a chance,”

“and you do?” you taunted, finding his eyes and then his lips.

his hands made their way to your waist, pinning it against the door. you couldn’t help but let out a small grin at your silent victory.

“of course i do sweetheart, i’m the only one who’s made you scream,” you felt your legs give up on you as his words went straight to your core.

“i’m the only one who’s heard your beautiful moans and small whimpers while you lose yourself on my cock,” his fingers graced your breasts under your shirt.

his touch was cool, but all it made you do was burn. 

you closed your eyes in delight. you forgot how deliberating jiwoong made you feel. it was why you longed for him so much after he helped you the first time.

“what happened? cat caught your tongue?” he smirked seeing you shiver under his touch.

“you act all high and mighty when we both know how easily i can change that.”

“prove it then,” you blurted, wanting to feel his everything and needing him desperately.

“i need you to say it louder sweetheart,” he caressed your face, pulling you closer to him.

“prove it,” you spoke and his lips took yours. he kissed you like you had been apart from years. 

his hands bunched up the skirt you were wearing and he slightly lifted, pausing the kiss to see the view before meeting your lips again.

“you got soaked at the thought of you taking me?” he teased, your face flushed red, avoiding his eyes.

“look at me princess,” his hand forced you to meet his eyes. he was anticipating your answer. 

“did you? did you fantasize about me?” 

you whimpered under his touch, feeling utterly embarrassed at his words, yet you wanted more.

“yes sir, i thought of you,”

“no wonder you couldn’t write your damn paper, you were too busy thinking about getting fucked.”

jiwoong tightened the hold on your waist and guided you towards his desk, stopping when you sat yourself on top of it. 

he pulled away from your lips as he quickly discarded your shirt somewhere in the office. you tossed your bra somewhere, signaling how you wanted his kiss everywhere.

he proceeded to ravish your chest, bruising you as much as he could. it was as if he wanted to prove to others how he was the only one who deserved you.

you started to feel his body under his shirt, while pulling on his hair every so often, earning grunts from him.

annoyed by his shirt, jiwoong lifts it off of himself and leans further towards you, deepening the kiss.

your hands started to reach for his cock, caressing it over his pants. you needed him more than ever.

his brows furrowed at your movements and you unzipped his pants, feeling him closer. he lets you do as you please as you pull down his pants, his boxers joining them.

seeing the hardened member, you immediately stroke it a few times before coating your hand in spit and proceeding to repeat your motions.

“god how are you so good at this?” jiwoong grunted while placing his forehead on yours.

you let go of his member and stood up, grabbing his arms in place and sitting him down on the desk instead. your knees met the carpet and you took him into mouth.

you stopped for a moment to respond to him, “i’m a hands-on learner.”

he lightly moans at your words, recalling how the last time you two were in this position he was guiding you.

in satisfaction, you continued bobbing your mouth up and down his hard-on. you took the time to tease his slit that was already coated with precum and use your hands, slightly squeezing his member. 

he grabbed your hair, somewhat forcing you to quicken your pace. drool had started to spill from your mouth and you looked up at jiwoong, seeing him in absolute bliss.

“my good girl, you’re doing so well,” he cooed.

his words went straight to your core and you felt the need to please him more.

once you felt his hold on your tighten, you knew he was close to cumming. you quickened your pace while his cock started to hit the back of your throat.

his grunts were more vocal and he moaned as his cum spilled into your mouth.

you took everything into your mouth and finished off with a ‘pop’ once you were finished, smiling at him afterwards.

“you’ll be the death of me,” he commented before lifting your body up and holding it as your legs felt like jelly.

“did i do good?” you asked expectantly, jiwoong released a sigh before taking your lips.

“you did amazing, sweetheart, but i think i need a little more for you to get an a,” he chuckled.

“i’m all yours jiwoong, take me.”

he smirked at your words and made his way back to his chair. once he sat, he patted his legs.

“come here sweetheart, we’re going to grade your paper together,” your eyes sparkled at the thought and you walked and sat yourself on his lap, facing the computer.

you shivered as you felt his warm member under you, but he stayed still. once he found your paper among many of the others, he clicked on it and placed his hands on your thighs.

the paper came up and you reread the words, remembering every line that you wrote. you were so focused on reanalysing your paper, that you failed to realize how jiwoong was starting to tease your bundle of nerves.

you let out a small gasp as his finger grazed your core, teasing you every now and then as you grabbed the desk for support.

“let’s see how you did angel,” he says into your ear as he inserts a finger inside of you. 

you placed your head on his shoulder for support and he fastens the pace, while reading your paper.

“eyes on the screen, i already found a mistake,” he forces you to look at your paper highlighting the mistakes. meanwhile, he plunges another finger inside of you.

“you contradicted yourself here, how can darcy be chivalrous once sentence and then an ass in the next,” 

you left his question unanswered, letting the ecstasy you were feeling sink in until his fingers stopped.

“i asked you a question,”

“uhm,” you swallowed, “i don’t know.”

jiwoong chuckled, “you don’t know? this is your paper sweetheart, minus two points.”

you quipped your heads towards him, realizing how he was genuinely grading your paper and begging for him to take it back.

“you want extra credit you have to deserve it, you’re going to explain each mistake you made for me,”

“but-”

“no buts, you asked for this. now, why did you contradict yourself?”

you sighed, silently admitting defeat.

“darcy did everything the way he was suppose to, making himself a perfect suitor in a way, but he completely disregarded elizabeth’s feelings the entire time and decided to act purely for his own interests,”

you could feel jiwoong’s smile as his fingers started to continuously pleasure you. you moaned in relief as jiwoong continued to read the paper.

he tsked, but his fingers maintained their pace.

“and here, you really think elizabeth revealed jane’s and bingley’s possible engagement out of jealousy?”

you shut your eyes slightly annoyed, but answered nonetheless wanting his fingers to fill you.

“not out of jealousy-” you whimpered as he fastened the pace of his fingers, teasing you endlessly.

“out of spite, she only mentioned the couple because she knew it would garner a reaction from darcy,” you somehow let out.

with a hum of satisfaction you assume, jiwoong places his eyes on your paper once again. you rejoice looking at the screen because the paper was nearly done being read.

jiwoong takes his time using his fingers to tease you mercilessly, all while forcing you to maintain your composure.

you begin to feel a haze as you feel a knot in your stomach.

“jiwoong-”

“not yet angel, i’m not done grading.”

your moans grew louder, feeling your climax closer and closer. your eyes looked at his concentrated face as he read and read.

it felt like a decade and you couldn’t handle it.

“jiwoong please,” you begged, not caring about your shame anymore.

you came here for him, the a was just an excuse.

“why do you think elizabeth accepted darcy’s proposal?” 

“are you serious?”

“why?”

“she was desperate for marriage,” you rushed out, starting to lose any complete thought.

“do you think she was as desperate as you are right now?” he said lowly, never wavering the pace of his fingers and reaching your spot.

“i don’t know,” you whimpered.

“what was that?”

“i don’t know!”

“but you know everything sweetheart don’t you? that’s why you think you deserve an a,”

“jiwoong, i’m so close,” you completely pressed your body towards his desk, trying to restrain yourself from touching him.

“i know, which is why i’m not allowing you to cum,” he announced.

you turned to him astonished as he took his fingers out of you and innocently licked your juices from them.

“the paper could’ve been better, i thought you read the book three times?”

“i did,” you nearly sobbed.

“well that didn’t reflect in the paper, so now you have to earn your grade and your right to cum,”

“how?” you immediately quipped, willing to do anything for the man.

“you can start by placing yourself on the desk, ass up,” your body immediately follows through and you stand up with your hands on the desk while facing the door.

you hear rustling of the cabinets behind you as jiwoong finds a condom and he grabs a hold of your waist.

“remember angel, try not to be too loud. everyone is grading,” you nodded understandingly, whimpering as you felt jiwoong slowly entering you.

“god princess, it was like you were waiting for me,” he groaned, waiting for your signal to go as your walls clenched around him.

when you placed your elbows on the desk, positioning yourself in a more pleasurable way, jiwoong took it as a sign to go on.

his pace started slowly, while you moaned under your breath feeling him everywhere. 

“jiwoong,” you moaned while he quickened his pace. although he tried to conceal them, his groans were slowly becoming louder.

“yes sweetheart?”

“more,” you begged, wanting more pleasure, more of his touch, and more of his everything.

“your wish is my command,” he said, bucking his hips towards yours rapidly while using one of the hands that was on your waist to tease your clit.

you let out a moan as he continuously hit your pleasure spot with a steady face. with his other free hand, he grabbed your hair loosely, pulling you closer towards him.

all you could let out was his name in whimpers. 

“you’re so good for me y/n,” the praise went straight to your core as he knew what you wanted to hear.

“such a good girl, you take my cock so well,”

“only for you,” you let out between the whimpers and moans, as jiwoong shows no signs of stopping.

“you wanted this didn’t you? you didn’t even need help, you just wanted to lose yourself on my cock,”

“not…true,” you lied.

you loathed pride and prejudice, but papers were your forte and if you really tried, you knew you could’ve done fine without help.

jiwoong was just amazing at validating you and fucking you beautifully, so you couldn’t help but beg for his assistance.

he slapped your ass in response, “don’t lie to me,” he warned.

“i promise sir,” you nearly yelled, forgetting any sense of being quiet. jiwoong placed a hand on your mouth, muffling any sound.

“you promised last time how this would never happen again didn’t you? look at you now,” he whispered in your ear.

you closed your eyes in ecstasy as you felt the knot in your stomach growing once again.

jiwoong kept on giving and giving, while you just took everything he gave.

“please, ” you begged into his palms, clenching around him while he hit your spot over and over again.

“just a little longer princess, i’m almost there,” jiwoong somehow got faster, ramming into you repeatedly all while you moaned into his hands.

“god, you’re perfect,” he mumbled.

suddenly, it all felt like too much. you closed your eyes in bliss while screaming out jiwoong’s name as you came. your head fell onto his shoulders as he lightly kissed your chin, chasing his release as well.

once his groans grew louder, you felt the warmth of the cum he spilled into the condom as his pace became sloppy.

he slowly pulled out of you as you stood breathlessly in between his arms, beads of sweat slowly falling down your face.

he disposed of the filled condom into the trash under the desk and turned you around to face him.

his goofy smile made you chuckle on the spot as you realized the other reason you wanted to visit jiwoong.

you genuinely enjoyed his presence. he made you feel safe and seen when everyone else had expectations for you. he looked at you as if you were the most important thing in the world at that moment.

desires aside, jiwoong was someone you could love and you were willing to give it a shot.

if he didn’t show how much he cared with words, he certainly did with actions as he showed when he started to clean you up with tissues.

you couldn’t help but laugh.

“what’s so funny?” he quizzically asked.

“you’re using tissues?” he rolled his eyes as he threw them in the trash and lifted your body to sit on the desk.

“well if someone didn’t need help so much, i could’ve prepared with time to bring something more premium,” he joked as you caressed the hairs behind his neck lightly.

“i’m sorry, the pent up stress from finals got to me. you don’t have to do anything with the grade,”

“nonsense y/n, your paper was exceptional either way. you didn’t need extra credit at all. you doubt yourself too much,” he complimented.

“does that mean i get an a?” you excitedly let out, not being able to contain yourself. jiwoong smiled at the gesture.

“yes, but you should probably stop relying on me for them because i am no help,”

“i guess it’s a good thing i graduate this semester then,” you mentioned and his eyebrows perked up.

“you graduate this semester? how come i didn’t know?”

“i wanted you to think i would taunt you for a long amount of time,” he slightly smirked at your confession.

“as if you didn’t have me wrapped around your fingers. speaking of, since you're graduating, when can i take you out on a date?”

“whenever you grow the balls to ask,” you joked as he looked down and up to meet your eyes again.

“maybe when we’re not naked?”

“probably.”

a/n: hope you all enjoyed whatever the hell this was😭 like i mentioned i'll try to write more but this writers block has stumped me. i appreciate you all and thank you for taking the time to read my works! :)

@zeruby16 on tumblr | est. 2023

[cupidsyndrome]

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ME AND MR WOLF.

🏹 MURDER, FALSE ROMANCE. 985 WORDS. 💌 nothing worse than a wolf in disguise. careful not to be fooled. 🩷 cw. human!alastor. suggestive. straight up murder. alastor needs his own warning.

freshly moved from the countryside, it’s easy to feel oh-so out of place here– amidst the dimly lit speakeasy that your friend has been urging you to go to. you vaguely remember hearing the song it’s a sin to tell a lie some time ago over the radio: this time, it’s live. you can feel each chord reverberating in your very own body, heart playing along the beat. humming along to it as your eyes desperately search for your friend that seemed to have disappeared– the smoke lingering in the air makes it hard to see, to even breathe.

a couple making their way out bump into you, sending you stumbling towards someone. to keep your balance, your hands instinctively find their way to the stranger’s chest– it’s an awkward situation, to say the least, and the way his gaze drops to your hands with annoyance makes you want to bury yourself 6 feet under. 

“my apologies,” you try, stammering.

the stranger seemed more relaxed at that, eyeing you up and down without a care in the world.

“no need, sugar.”

you frown at that– something about his voice felt familiar, “i think i know you.”

his face falls at that. uncertainty tainting his face as one his eyes twitches. have you done something wrong ? the atmosphere feels suffocating as you struggle to find the words to explain yourself– he doesn’t bother helping either, hard gaze stuck on you.

“i.. i must apologise again, sir. knowing would’ve been the wrong word. i’m a listener of your shows.”

a scoff.

then, a full-on laugh.

as the sound of his laughter fills the air, mingling with the lingering notes of the jazz band– your stomach churns, something akin to feeling butterflies. it's a warm, rich sound that washes over you, momentarily easing the tension that hangs between the two of you. his laugh attracts the dirty looks of a few other customers– he doesn’t mind it.

“well, darlin’,” he muses, a playful twinkle in his eyes, “if you’re a fan, then i reckon we’re practically ol’ pals !”

the night went on, with the stranger– alastor, you’ve learned– never leaving your side. the hours slipping away in a haze of laughter and shared drinks. the once-crowded room now dwindled as patrons found themselves wandering into the moonlit streets. with the fading strains of down hearted blues, an uneasy feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. would you ever have the chance to meet him again after tonight ? would he even wish to ? 

but alastor seems to be more understanding of your silent dilemma than what you would’ve thought. he leans close, lips brushing against your cheek– velvety voice making you an offer. and so, you push your doubts to the side, eagerly nodding to accept. 

on the walk to your house, his hand finds your waist, keeping you close to him. it’s comforting, and you start to think that you could get used to this, someday.

[...]

you tell him to make himself home and he does, oh-so effortlessly. as his coat gets tossed somewhere on your couch– he rolls off his sleeves, forearms adorned with lengthy scars that makes your face twist in worry for him.

“goodness, alastor! those must’ve hurt.”

he offers you a smile, gloved hand twirling a strand of your hair. 

“you should be worryin’ for yourself, cher.”

the term catches you off guard, and a blush blooms across your cheeks, the warmth spreading like wildfire. it catches you so off guard that your mind won’t even try to comprehend his words. there’s red signs flashing through your mind but you don’t pay attention to any of them as you find yourself succumbing to the intoxicating allure of the man standing before you. he’s too charming for his own good, you think– even worse so for yours.

“what’re you thinkin’ about ? focus on me.”

as your back hits the wall, you stumble over your words. he’s close– too close for this to be considered respectable between two strangers. his left hand is on the wall, a few inches from your head, as his right hand grabs the point of your chin: keeping you in place, right where he wants you to stay. you find it difficult to breathe– imagination running wild, conjuring up scenarios that leave your mind dizzy with need.

his lips finds yours in a heated kiss, a collusion full of passion that threatens to consume you whole. each movement fuels a primal need– and you can’t help but moan at the feeling, the heat of his body radiating against yours in waves.

the hand that once grabbed your chin now tightens around your throat, cutting your airways in a grip that feels foreign– yet pleasurable for the most part. still, it makes you uncomfortable and you whimper: wishing to let him know, thinking that maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t know just how strong he was. alastor breaks off the kiss and relief floods through you for a moment. 

your eyes flutter open.

the illusion breaks.

the man standing before you looks like alastor, but doesn’t feel like the man you’ve met earlier. his facade crumbles off in an instant– a chilling bored gaze never leaving yours. the sudden panic filling up your eyes doesn’t faze him, as he continues to strangle you with a vice-like grip. 

lungs burning, you try to gasp for air as his left hand joins the deadly embrace. when you realise that the monster wouldn’t take mercy on you, your fingers start tightening around his forearms the best you could– nails digging into the very same scars you’ve pitied him for.

the realisation puts tears into your eyes– what a fool you’ve been.

and as the world begins to blur, mind falling in and out of consciousness, you’re met with the mocking smile of the very same stranger you’ve brought home.

“have a good sleep, sugar.”

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