#anyway they talked a little after the combat last session! it was good | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whxre-bxby · 1 year ago

Note

I’m not sure if you’re taking requests but I really need some fluffy smut with Prager. This man is no where to be seen in fanfic. I swear! (Except for you and I dig it ;) So can I please get some fluffy smut with Prager. Lots a praise. Bonus points if they’re a chubby reader or a virgin…or both…hehe. If not, all good! Love your writing! Keep it up! 🩷💫

Thank you! Sorry about excluding the bonus points.

Recom Prager x Recom f. Y/N

Face-Sitting with Prager

Masterlist

(1K request from @blue-bluee )

Summary: Prager can't get Y/N off his mind and his little crush gets noticed by her. It escalates every time they see each other and after a heated workout between the two, Y/N decides to give in to his crush and let him show her what he can do.

WARNINGS: SMUT, fluff, violence, military combat, oral sex f. receiving, oral sex m. receiving, praise kink, sub Prager, begging

Word Count: 6727

Prager and I are finally alone in the gym. I’m waiting for him to explain himself and his weird behaviour, but he’s having a hard time talking. His behaviour started already a while back.

If you would have asked me a week ago, how my daily life as a recombinant is going I would have honestly said I’m getting bored. Training sessions used to give me adrenaline rushes and they had just now started getting slightly boring. That was of course, until I noticed a pair of lingering eyes on me.

Whenever I was around, they would rest on me for far too long. The small glances turned into stares and I often caught them. Normally, I would have grimaced or shrugged them off, but the reason for watching seemed different. It wasn’t just finding my body attractive, it seemed deeper and more emotional. I could tell by his reactions.

Prager knew I would see him staring at me but it was something he would sometimes do without noticing and he couldn’t stop.

The first time I noticed it was during training. It was always the same stuff over and over again. I was wrestling with Z-Dog, which we did nearly every day. Prager, like many others, stood around the boxing ring and watched as we attempted to pin the other down against the mat.

I had her beneath me and I held one of her arms outstretched again my chest while my legs straddled her waist to reduce her space of action.

Even with all the team watching, I could only sense one stare on me and it was to my left. For some reason, I gave it all my attention, leaning away from Z slightly and locking eyes with Prager. I sat still, just watching him the way he watched me.

He had already been looking at me and I noticed how his eyes nervously flickered between mine. His tail stopped gently swaying behind him and I saw how he faintly gasped when our eyes met.

Before I could examine him any further I got a fist to the face which sent me backwards and off of Zdinarsk. Within seconds she was above me, pinning my wrists against the mat with a smirk which earned a few chuckles from around us.

“The fuck were you doin’?” she asked me. Her smirk turned into an evil grin when I attempted to pull my arms from her.

I glance up at Prager again and he looks nervous, but I don’t do the same mistake as last time. Z-Dog tried to follow my gaze and the second she turned her head I struck my knee into her stomach, making her lose her tight grip on my hands and the fight was back on.

The second time I caught him staring wasn’t during training, where I was almost half naked, for once. It was at dinner.

Prager was sitting a table away and I was sipping on a new kind of soda which was apparently invented while we were growing in a lab. The straws and the cups were upgraded to our size so we wouldn’t struggle. Anyway, I was listening to Walker lecture Lyle on how to properly dismember a body while drinking the fizzy drink. I had forgotten how we even got to this topic and the rest of my table seemed to have the same problem. But what really perked my attention again was Prager. Without thinking, my eyes shot to him because I felt his stare and we looked each other in the eye again. Except this time, Prager almost flinched when he noticed I caught him and immediately looked down. I watched him pretending to be doing something else for a few more long moments before diverting my attention back to the concerning conversation at my table.

The first occasion could have been pure coincidence that he was looking at me. Maybe he saw something on me or I could have had something in my hair but the second time really got me thinking. I was starting to try and figure out what was happening and Prager would now occupy my thinking much more than he professionally should.

From then on, I would find him looking at me countless more times. Usually, he stared at my face but I’ve seen him just stare and daydream while his eyes were locked on my body. This would mostly happen during our briefings with the Colonel where he would give us details about our upcoming mission.

As time progressed, the small exchanges we had increased so much to the point, where I would look forward to seeing him just so that I could catch him sneaking his looks at me. I don’t know why I was so amused by it but I felt so in control of the situation.

Things started to escalate but luckily nobody would notice our behaviour. Well, more like Prager’s behaviour. I had a good amount of self-control left whereas he seemed to be at his breaking point every time I entered the room. Once, Lopez did nudge him in the shoulder with his fist when he saw Prager zoned out and staring at me. Yet, he thought nothing of it.

Two days after the ‘dinner incident’, all the recoms were back in the gym. Often we did our own workouts but the Colonel wanted to strengthen the squad to become one and get to know everyone better, so in his opinion, there is no better way to strengthen the team spirit than to make the team fight itself in a ring.

Brown had just beaten Ja by tackling him to the ground and delivering a few allowed punches. They always had some sort of competition going on so it was amusing to watch.

One thing you need to note is that while we were standing around and watching, Prager came over and stood right next to me. His body was slightly intruding on my personal space but I decided to not move away. I leaned against the elastic ropes on the sides, watching the fight with a grin until I felt my tail brush against something. I shrugged it off but then about a minute later it happened again. This time, I turn around and notice that Prager and my tails were entangled and lightly wrapped around each other. I notice him watching my reaction too and I wasn’t sure whether he did it purposefully or by accident. It didn’t really matter because I saw him grow nervous and retreat his tail back to himself. I did the same but when we directed our attention back to the middle, I deliberately caressed the back of his leg with the fuzzy tip of my tail. From the corner of my eye, I saw Prager immediately tense up and I heard his breath hitch before he held it for a good few seconds.

Ja was leaving the ring, seeming irritated with himself that he lost to his friend. Since Brown won, he could choose his next opponent. I watched his eyes scan the circle and suddenly they met mine.

He looked at me a little longer than he looked at the others and I raised an eyebrow at him with a smile on my face, challenging him whether he really wanted to make the mistake and pick me. The others followed Brown’s eyes while he grinned, gliding his tongue over his bottom lip before he trapped it between his teeth.

“Y/N. Let’s go.” he said, standing up and making space for me to go inside. Mansk chuckled and Lyle gave me a motivational slap to the shoulder.

Next to me, I noticed Prager’s head shoot to me but he didn’t do anything, so I bent down and joined Brown in the ring.

He was slightly tired from fighting Ja before so I had a small advantage, however, Brown was still stronger than me. One thing I learned in the military as a woman is that it’s definitely not all about strength and muscle mass. If you happen to be fighting someone who thinks that, which Brown does, then you are entitled to win. Strategy is something one must come up with by themselves and Brown didn’t have it. I did. All he had was the reassuring thought that he could lift almost twice the amount I could. But that doesn’t play a role in the ring.

The second he lunged forward I dodged his attack and pulled him back by his arm. It definitely took him by surprise and messed up his thinking but he wasn’t going to give up. I knew him well enough to know that Brown would fight to the death if he wanted to win badly enough. Luckily he wasn’t allowed to, so I was safe there.

It didn’t last long until both of us were writhing on the floor. I had kicked his shoulder but it didn’t stop his movements. He grabbed my leg and took advantage of the tiny mistake I made. I went to kick him too soon and he managed to dodge it and now he held it tightly. I was on my back, having a hard time figuring out how to get out of this position.

My other one was free and I pushed his head away with it which seemed to rile him up even more. Within seconds, he had a death grip on both my calves which suddenly found themselves on each of his shoulders. He leaned forward with a smug smirk on his face, trapping me beneath him.

“Really?” I questioned him, taking note of his cocky behaviour.

“What? This too much for you?” he joked and I heard a few laughs from behind me.

Did he expect me to just give up out of embarrassment due to the slightly sexual position we were in? Apparently, he did because when I lunged forward and punched him in the face, he stumbled back in shock. The positions switched rapidly and I now had both my knees on either side of his neck while he groaned. The fall must have knocked the air from his lungs. I was definitely not going to sit down because this position was still rather odd, however, I did lean back and I managed to keep him pinned down long enough to win.

Once Brown lost, Ja’s laughter filled the room while he held a bloodied tissue to his nose and watched Brown just stay laying on the ground for a few more moments.

I stood up and waited for him to recover and get up, but instead of thinking about how well I did, Prager was once again on my mind. I had caught a few glimpses of him during the fight and had noticed the way his eyes never left my body. He was especially eyeing the way Brown would hold or touch me and the second I fell back and Brown had me trapped beneath him, Prager’s ears pinned back and his strained tail lifted.

He did not look happy at all but I had little time to examine him. Once I was on top of Brown, he no longer looked pissed off. In fact, Prager’s cheeks were tainted with a light blush.

Brown got up and gave me a fist bump before leaving the ring to me. I got to pick who to fight next. And in that moment, I got an idea. My eyes landed on Prager and I evilly grinned at him, watching him grow nervous under my stare.

“Prager.” I sneered, watching his ears twitch in response to me calling his name up. “You’ve been out too long.”

He stared at me wide-eyed for a while, processing the situation until Lyle moved over and gave him a nudge. Prager hesitantly gets into the ring with me. His eyes stay glued on me while I crack my neck and take my position in one corner. This was going to be interesting.

“Come on, Prager. Take her down.” Lopez called with a light laugh, making me grin at his unsure expression. If I win too many times in a row I get more points than winning separately. Lopez was close to the top so he couldn’t afford to have me take his spot on the leaderboard.

Prager was good at this. He had the muscle mass as well as the tactics and strategies. Let’s see if he will use that against me.

When I attacked I was glad to see he wasn’t going to dodge me. Prager tried to reduce the blow of my actions by catching my arms and letting them go again which not only confused me, but the others too. Each time I hit him he either took it or moved away. He didn’t strike me once and it was starting to piss me off.

“Prager, what are you doin’?” Someone called from outside the ring. He ignored it.

I pushed him in the chest as hard as I could and he stumbled back a little but stayed standing without properly defending himself.

“Fight me.” I breathed out, locking eyes with him. I couldn’t properly read his emotions but he didn’t look angry at all. He seemed to be somewhere between nervous and calm and it confused me.

“What you think I can’t take it?” I scoffed, flattening my ears back daringly and flicking my tail in irritation.

A wave of panic flowed through Prager. He didn’t think of the possibility that you would interpret his behaviour that way.

I glared at him now, rolling my shoulder while impatiently waiting for him to do something.

“Fight me!” I almost shouted this time and he seemed to be considering it. I couldn’t be bothered to wait for his answer so I lunged forward, throwing myself against his middle and bringing him to the ground.

Finally, he stopped his nonsense and I felt his arms on me, pushing me away. A small laugh escaped my lips as I grinned at him. He looked uncertain.

I fell back but quickly got up, attacking him again. He got a fist to the face and I got a knee in the ribs but despite the violent actions, he was using an absolute minimal amount of force against me. Why he didn’t want to hurt me was a mystery to me.

It went on like this for a few more minutes. Me not giving up attacking him until finally, he started to fail in his defence.

I kicked in the back of his knee and he was down on the floor in seconds. The anger I felt from him not trying gave me enough adrenaline to continue to fight him like I didn’t just go another round before.

I stood above him, about to kick him down but he caught my leg and I lost my balance. He lay with his back half on the ground and I landed over his waist. I saw him reach for me but his arm was kicked away by my free leg.

He tried getting up and I put my weight on his shoulder to prevent him from standing. Prager managed to sit up with me on his shoulder which surprised me but the next punch I delivered had him falling back.

Prager was laying flat on the ground with his back pressing against the soft flooring of the ring. Once again I found myself in the unfortunate position of having my legs on either side of his head this time.

He looked up at me and stopped fighting. I couldn’t care for what odd arrangement our bodies were in, I wanted to beat him. So I leaned back, pinning him down by his middle while resting my weight on his chest. My knees stayed fixed on the floor where they were.

I was about to win when I noticed something. Prager was blushing. Not even to a normal extent. His cheeks were burning up. When I elbowed him in his side he whimpered, just loud enough for me to hear and my ears perked up. As I leaned back, I saw a small bulge forming in his pants and immediately put two and two together. Prager must have been getting a kick out of this.

My eyes shot back to his face and he gave me a pleading look. I realised no one has noticed yet because all the recoms were talking about why Prager wasn’t fighting properly.

So, for whatever reason on Pandora, I decided to spare him some embarrassment. I knew he was into me but we didn’t need the rest of the team knowing.

Quickly, I lifted my weight off him and my hand grabbed his queue from behind his head. I forced him to turn around on his stomach and I sat on his back, holding him down while forcing his face against the ground. He didn’t move again and I managed to hold him down long enough to win again. A few of his closest friends laughed at him as I got off the ground, but Prager stayed laying there.

“Alright, that’s it for today. Pack it up.” Quaritch said, getting up from a weight bench and throwing a towel over his shoulder. I looked at him and he gave me an approving nod for managing to beat both Brown and Prager before walking out.

Luck must have been on Prager’s side because this was the last match. Meaning, people would leave before anyone noticed what he was struggling with. Prager got up as everyone started to leave but he bent over to fumble with the leg opening hem of his cargo pants. No one could see anything that way. I took my towel from the ring, drying my forehead from sweat after assuring a few others I’ll come after them. It amazed me how nobody had suspected anything happening and within a minute, the gym was empty. Just Prager and I were in it.

That’s how we ended up alone in this gym.

I sigh, leaning against the elastic sides and tiredly watching him. He feels my stare and looks up before seeming to feel intimidated and nervously looking away. His reaction makes me chuckle.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” I ask him, sipping water from my bottle.

“Uh-” he stammers, rubbing the back of his neck. Prager chooses not to reply. If he doesn’t want to talk there are definitely better ways of making him confess.

“You need to work on your attacks.” I grin, knowing very well he’s good at it, he was just holding back today. Prager nevertheless doesn’t say anything. His cheeks are still red.

If I’m going to get him to confess, I know I’ll have to force it out of him. To achieve that, he needs to be distracted. Maybe showing more skin will do the trick.

“You’re going to fight me properly now. Without all the previous bullshit.” I say, turning away from him and peeling my tank top over my head. My leggings join the top on the ground in seconds.

I turn around to face him and Prager is respectfully looking away. His ears and entire body look tense.

“Come on.” I say and his eyes land on mine. He doesn’t dare to let his gaze falter and land on my body.

“What are you doin’?” he asks, not taking his eyes off of me. His voice is strained too, trying to sound confident.

“It’s hot in here.” I smile up at him and he just stares.

“What? You don’t feel warm?”

My hand rests on his abs and I trail it down before tugging at the hem of his shirt to tease him. Prager shivers under my touch which makes me grin again.

“No-” he pushes the words out as if he were running low on air.

“Really? What’s this then?” I ask, letting my fingertip hook itself under the waistband of his pants, pulling it an inch away before letting the cloth snap back against his skin, making him flinch lightly. I gestured to his erection which was starting to strain against the fabric of his pants.

He looked down at the ground with flattened back ears in shame.

Finally, I come up with a good way to get him to break.

“Prager, if you properly fight me now then I might consider helping you with your problem.”

His eyes go wide while I playfully smirk up at him. Taking a few steps back to get into position, I raise an eyebrow to question whether he accepts the challenge. Prager slowly does the same, crouching down.

His sudden eagerness amuses me. “Aw, you need it that badly?” I tease.

“It was your idea.” he replies calmly. But his tail betrays him by excitedly swaying behind him.

“Yeah, but I can also walk away now.”

“No-” he quickly replies, almost interrupting me which makes me scoff. He must realise how desperate he sounded.

“Just count down.”

I decide to let it slide and count down. Prager doesn’t take his eyes off of me for even a second and once we pounce at each other, he’s on me in moments. I refuse to make it easy for him so he doesn’t manage to tackle me straight away. But soon enough, Prager has me pinned down in a way that restricts all my movements.

“That good enough for you?” he asks, holding my arm behind my back uncomfortably.

My own ears are now pinned back.

“Yeah, but we’re not done yet.” I say, sneering over my shoulder. He lets me go which he shouldn’t have and in the next second I have him pressed face down in the mat again and his arm is in a tight twist.

“Does this shit turn you on?” I grin, twisting his arm a little more until I hear him whine in pain.

“Come on Prager, use your pretty mouth. What is it you want, huh?” I tease, leaning down to seductively speak the words into his ear.

Taunting him was fun to me. Especially because he was so desperate. Prager was bigger than me and could easily overpower me if he wanted to but it seems that he prefers it being the other way around. Such a big recom being so whipped was something new to me.

His eyes close for a mere second. “You- please. I want you Y/N.” he stammers out, groaning in pain after finishing his sentence.

Prager’s words take me by surprise. He sounded so needy, his words twisted my stomach in excitement and went straight to my core.

I’m in deep thought which Prager seems to notice because my tight grip on his arm must have loosened. Being reminded of the possible prize he can receive as an outcome of wrestling me down, Prager removes his arm completely from my hold. His body swiftly turns around and his hands grab my shoulder, pushing me off of him and pressing me against the ground. Prager hooks his arm under my left leg, pressing it up all the way against my chest to eliminate the chances of me getting up before holding down my arm with his free hand. He is hovering over me and I can see in the fire of his eyes how worked up and eager he is. His heavy breathing allows me to see his fangs.

“Didn’t like being a bottom?” I question him with a grin. I had every intention of making him feel dirty and nervous. His tipped-back ears perk forwards as he hears my words and his heavy breaths suddenly become very uneven.

“You said I need to fight you to get what I want.” Prager answered out of breath, managing to avoid the question. I chuckle beneath him.

“That was good.” I say, smiling to myself. “You’re good at listening, huh?”

He doesn’t say anything but his eyes light up.

“What if I told you to let me go?” I say, watching him think about my question.

Prager wasn’t sure whether you asked him a trick question. If he didn’t listen you would either be disappointed he wasn’t being good or happy he wasn’t backing down from the fight. If he did listen, you could be happy he is being good or disappointed he isn’t sticking to the rules of the ring. If one were in hand-to-hand combat and you’d ask the enemy to let you go, they wouldn’t either.

But Prager wanted to be good for you. So good. He wanted to be the best person for you and please you however you wanted. At this point, he was so flustered and riled up he couldn’t be bothered to think about his ego and feel embarrassed. So he let you go, moving back to sit on his knees while you lay beneath him.

This situation would have worked out for him either way. I would have praised him for not letting me influence his will to win but I’m also pleased that I have him wrapped around my finger this way.

Of course, I can’t let this end so quickly, so I get up, tripping him so that he loses his balance. Once he does, Prager is back on the ground and he groans when the back of his head hits the mat for the countless time today.

He lifts his legs in an attempt to hold me back but they just nudge me forward and for the third time today, which honestly blows my mind, my legs are on either side of a head today.

Prager opens his previously squeezed closed eyes in pain and is met with a sight that had his mouth watering again, just like it did before. He wanted to sit up to regain control of the fight but quite frankly, the last thing he wanted to do was move you away right now.

I didn’t think much of it. Before, this position made him give up so I assumed he wouldn’t move anymore. That’s why I diverted my attention to fixing my hair from today’s training session while staying hovering above him. I had gotten so distracted by Prager that I completely forgot I was fighting him this whole time in just my underwear. That would definitely ensure he wouldn’t move, so I can take time with my hair now, retying loose strands of it back into the braid.

I finish taming my hair and I run my hand over my queue one time before I prepare myself to move off of him. Prager was still for too long, he had lost again.

Just as I wanted to plant my hands on the ground to move off of him I feel his hands snake around each of my thighs. Immediately I halt my movements and stare down at him with wide eyes.

This time, he isn’t looking at me. Prager is staring at my thinly covered pussy as if he were enchanted by a spell. His pupils dilated, almost leaving no space for the colour of his irises to show. I also noticed that his lips were slightly parted and only now realised that I could feel his heavy breaths fan against my core.

“Prager?” I ask, regretting how squeaky my voice sounded.

His eyes tear themselves from my slowly soaking panties and they beam up at me.

“Why do you want this so badly?” I question again, feeling curious to know why he’s so weak for me.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot…” he whispers, letting his eyes just drink all of me in. It seems he’s become so turned on he can’t keep his eyes fixed on mine anymore.

“I wanna make you feel good. Please-” he begs me, gently tugging at my thighs. I gasp lightly, realising he wants this more than me helping him with his hard-on.

“Tell me how.” I breathe out, starting to feel aroused by him.

“Let me taste you. Y/N please.” he whines, slightly tightening his grip on my thighs. “Sit on my face.”

My cheeks are starting to burn up whereas he is already completely flustered.

I wasn’t sure with myself whether this was the right thing to do. I’d also never done this with anyone but he was asking so nicely and I just happened to really be enjoying this. I couldn’t say no.

My mind was fuzzy with arousal, clouding up my common sense.

Even though it was late and no recom would use the gym anymore, there was still a chance of someone walking in.

But as I said, my thinking is blurred so I decide to give in to my feelings. Prager’s begging eyes widened and his tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip as I slowly lowered myself down on him. I still had my panties on but it didn’t because I was testing the waters.

My lips parted in a soft gasp when he guided me down with his strong hands and lightly lifted his head so that his nose was now pressed against my clothed heat.

I bit down on my bottom lip and my eyes fluttered closed at the oddly pleasant feeling. Prager gently tugged me further down. His head was resting against the ground again and I felt him nuzzle his face into my clothed core which sent a shiver down my spine. I sighed in pleasure and he heard it. The noise made his desperation grow.

“Please, Y/N. Can I?” he asked breathily, mumbling the words against the skin of my bare thigh.

I watch him for a few moments before my fingers slowly fumble with the fabric of my underwear and I carefully move it to the side. My eyes are glued on Prager’s face, carefully watching his reactions in fear of some sort of rejection but Prager looks like he’s in love. I’ve never seen a man so pussy whipped before.

I feel my core pulsing in anticipation of his touch and his lustful eyes just increase my excitement.

“Fuck…” he whispers, swallowing nervously. Before I can say anything or even do anything, Prager slips his tongue out from between his wet lips and I feel him lick a stripe over my slick folds. He waits a few seconds before doing it again, and then again. With each swipe at my pussy, Prager grows more confident and uses more strength in his tongue.

My mouth is hanging open as I watch him with wide eyes. It feels so unbelievably good.

Prager hums against my hot skin approvingly, sending soft vibrations through me. My hands fall behind me and I rest them on his toned chest, curling my fingers against the material of his tight shirt.

Suddenly, his tongue starts to circle my clit and I whimper in pleasure, throwing my head back for a second.

Every noise Prager gets is what he had been longing to hear for the past weeks. A reminder that he’s making you feel good is enough to get him off.

His fingers dig into the plush flesh of my thighs and his tongue works harder. He’s starting to use his entire mouth to eat me out and it has my eyes rolling back.

“Shit- Prager…” I moan, leaning forwards and running my fingers over his bandana and through his thick hair. He groans against me again, pulling me further down against him. Prager constantly switches from sucking my clit to swiping the strong tip of his tongue through my folds. My hips start to rock against his face which makes his tail thud against the ground repeatedly in happiness. Hearing his name has his stomach clenching in excitement and he wants nothing more but to make you cum on his face.

I feel myself getting closer to my orgasm, but then I realise that he had been the one with the aroused problem the entire time, not me. I knew he wanted to please me but he was doing so well, I wanted to reward him in some way.

Prager continues to eagerly lap at my wet pussy while tightly holding my trembling thighs in a reassuring way.

“Prager-” I say, trying to sit up but his grip has me struggling.

Prager doesn’t think much of it when you try to pull away. Maybe you’re overstimulated which would be an achievement for him.

“Prager, stop.” I manage to force out, looking down at him now.

Immediately, Pragers halts his actions and his previously lust-filled half-lidded eyes shot up and met mine. His ears lightly tipped back, in dread of him doing something wrong. I felt his hands completely loosen around my thighs.

“Let me make you feel good too.” I breathily say, while my chest heaves. Desperately, I try to calm my heavy breathing.

“Please, stay like this. I want you-”

“You’ve been so good, baby.” I whisper, running my fingers over his hand. “You deserve a reward.”

His ears twitch forwards and his eyes brighten at the praise. Prager can’t compete with that, so he lets his hands slip from your thighs and lets you move away. Even though his erection has become painfully hard, he would much rather focus on you.

I turn around, facing his lower half and my hands start to unbuckle his belt. Prager moves up and leans against his forearms to watch my actions.

“Is this okay?” I ask, waiting for his permission before I unzip his pants. He hesitates a little before nodding.

“I need to hear you say it.”

“Yeah, it’s fine.” he breathes out.

“Only fine?” I tease him with a soft chuckle.

“I want you to cum on my face.” Prager whines out.

His ears droop to the sides and he looks like a begging kitty. You notice his eyes have become glossy with tears as feelings of desperation to pleasure you have taken over his body. He really wants nothing more.

“Beg for it.” I say, feeling surprised by my choice of words. But he doesn’t waste a second. Soft pleas and whimpers spill from him as he frantically tries to express how much he wants it. I watch him intently before not being able to resist it anymore.

“Good boy…” I coo, leaning forward to his face and pressing a kiss to his cheek. His flustered face once again is tainted with a blush as his clouded eyes stare deep into mine. I notice him slowly leaning in, as if he were asking for permission to kiss me. Who am I to deny him of that?

I press my lips against his and we passionately make out for a minute before I pull away and he lays down on the ground again. The taste of myself transferred from his watering mouth to mine.

I moved my leg over his head again but this time I was facing the other way. Prager didn’t seem to mind at all. His hands grabbed onto my thighs once again and he pulled me straight back down on him.

I exhale shakily as pleasure starts to flood my body once again. This time, I want him to feel it too, so I lean over his body while he holds my hips in place. My fingers find the zipper of his pants and I quickly open it before pushing them down just enough to reveal his throbbing erection.

I gasp when I see him. Never would I have expected Na’vi dicks to be so big. God, it looked so mesmerising and good. The tip was leaking precum which was slowly rolling down the side of his cock and my own mouth started to water at the sight.

Without wasting time, I wrap my hand around him, forming a fist and I hear him groan against me in pleasure. I start to stroke him, smearing the precum all over him and I can see how the muscles of his thighs and abdomen flex.

“Fuck, you’re such a pretty boy…” I mumble to him and I can tell he hears it when the rhythmic movements of his skilled tongue falter for a second. Prager also pushes his hips off the ground, desperately trying to feel more friction.

I listen to his body, leaning my head down and sloppily starting to lick his shaft from base to tip. I can hear his muffled whimper which just spurs me on to continue.

With all the pleasure he is receiving, Prager wants to increase yours so once he feels your hot lips wrap around his tip, he circles your entrance with his tongue before pushing it in as far as possible.

I gasp, squeezing my eyes closed before continuing to suck on his tip.

Soon we’re both moaning messes, trying to please the other more while relishing in the blissful feeling.

I feel my orgasm approach and feeling his cock twitch in my mouth makes me believe he is close too.

Suddenly, Prager tightens his grip on my thighs even more, holding me down while absolutely burying his face in my cunt. His nose is now pressing against my entrance while his mouth relentlessly sucks on my clit.

I whine, which is followed by his name being moaned. My thighs clench around his head as I feel it near.

“Prager- fuck. ‘M so close.”

He doesn’t need to reply, he just keeps doing what he’s doing and within seconds, I’m coming undone. My hips grind down against him in desperate attempts to prolong my orgasm for as long as possible.

Once I start coming down and my eyes open, I resume swallowing down his cock while he gently cleans me up.

Since we’re both Avatars, I’m able to take all of him down my throat. My nose presses down against the skin of his base and I bob my head up and down him.

He’s cursing under me, digging his nails into my flesh and I swallow around him to make my throat feel tighter while desperately holding back gags.

“Shit-” he groans and his hips stutter, lightly thrusting up to match my movements before I feel his cum shoot down my throat. Out of reflex, I start swallowing it, squeezing more out of him with each gulp of my throat. Once it seems I have milked him of all his cum, Prager’s body slumps against the floor. His previously strained limbs and body now relax against the floor.

Slowly I get off of him and watch how he recovers from the euphoria.

I sit down next to him, flinching as my pussy comes in contact with my heel. It was still throbbing. Deciding to take care of him, I pull my panties back over my crotch before paying attention to him, gently tucking him back into his pants.

When I’m done, Prager lifts himself from the ground, now sitting in front of me and staring into my eyes with his tired ones once again.

“Thank you…” he whispers and I smile to myself.

“You don’t have to thank me. You did most of the work.” I giggle, gently nudging his shoulder.

“It’s more than I could ask for.” he says, softly gazing at me.

“Either way, you did a really good job.” I say, lightly tapping his cheek in praise. To my surprise, Prager pulls me to him and our lips interlock once again in a much gentler kiss.

“Was this the only time we’d do this?” he asks, and I see a small spark of hope in his eyes.

“Depends on...” I say, slowly getting up. His head raises and he watches me pick up my clothes and water bottle with sad floppy ears.

“...whether you want to join me in the showers or not.”

A smile returns to my face as I watch his face once again light up. He was so cute. Within seconds, Prager is on his feet and he gets out of the ring before stretching out his hands to help me climb out. The small gesture makes my heart warm up and flutter.

“Damn, what a gentleman.” I say with a giggle as we walk to the shared showers.

“For you, always.” he smiles, carrying my things for me.

How had I not been interested in Prager sooner? He was such a sweetheart.

Tag List: @ikranwings @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @number1gal @numarusworld @jatwow @ken-dala

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lisbeth-kk · 7 months ago

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May Prompts

Today's prompt: hobby

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 8)

Summary: A rebuke turns into something Rosie had only dared to hope for.

Eight Years Old

Dad and Papa, well, to be fair, mostly Dad, had a stern talk with me in the aftermath of my performance in the school play where I told the tale of The Tipsy Burglar that occurred a half year earlier. I had kept it a secret from them, which I knew was a bit not good, but I thought they’d be pleased that I put Papa in the spotlight of that particular case, even if he was nowhere near London at the time. It turned out they weren’t.

“Your choice of title is…” Papa began.

“Sherlock,” Dad said in a tone that told both Papa and me that this was not the time for humour.

Dad cleared his throat and began his lecture, asking me to keep quiet until he was finished.

“We both appreciate that you love speaking about us and dramatize a little about Papa’s work.”

He sent a warning glare in Papa’s direction when he wanted to protest that it wasn’t just Papa’s work, but Dad’s too, when he wasn’t at his actual job as a doctor.

“What we don’t fancy, is your changed personality of late. You’ve become cocky, using Papa’s fame to your benefit, to become a more interesting person, and that is just not on. You should be proud of who you are. In the long run, you’ll end up with no audience or true friends if you continue down this road. It is you who matter, not who your family is, alright?”

Dad looked pointedly at me to see if I understood what he was trying to convey. I nodded.

“Good. We have a proposition for you. It has come up earlier as well, but back then we thought you were too young for this hobby, or…”

I couldn’t keep my mouth shut any longer, because those last words could only mean one thing.

“You mean martial arts?” I asked hopefully.

A deep chuckle from Papa confirmed my deduction, and I threw myself into Dad’s arms.

“I promise I’ll be good, and I won’t be such a…”

“Alright, best not finish that sentence,” Dad said mock serious.

***

Both my fathers had experience in this area. Sort of, anyway. Papa from fencing, Dad from rugby and the combat training when he was in the army.

I was euphoric by the prospect, but still a bit irked after the rebuke, so when two options were suggested, I obviously chose a third one.

“Taekwondo or kickboxing?” Papa asked expectantly.

“Neither,” I said defiantly, but regretted my tone immediately when Dad spoke my name in thatvoice.

“Watson,” Papa prompted, his tone also a bit harsh.

“Sorry,” I said. “Jiu jitsu. Please, let me.”

“I think that can be arranged,” Dad said. “You’ll learn self-defence, respect and humbleness as well as self-esteem. Not sure you need more of the latter, though.”

That elicited another chuckle from Papa. Dad turned to him, cocking an eyebrow, but the mirth on his face ruined is effort to look disapproving.

***

A week later, my martial art career started. Papa had wanted to fully equip me with the correct clothes, mouthguard, gloves and shin guards, but Dad suggested that we postponed the shopping spree until we were certain what was required. The web site had said that I only needed to show up in whatever clothes I found comfortable, so I chose tights and a t-shirt in a breathing material.

When we arrived in the dojo, I learned to bow every time I entered and departed. A sign of respect for the room where the training was executed.

“No socks,” the trainer told us when several of the children skidded around on the mats.

The trainer wore a crisp white costume, called a Gi, and her black belt had three golden stripes, her name, and Japanese signs embroidered on it.

“I am Sensei Ida. Inside this dojo, you’ll address me as Sensei. Understood?”

“Yes, Sensei,” we said in more or less unison.

When the session was over, we promised our Sensei, that we would keep it up until we attained the black belt. Only two of us were successful at keeping that promise.

Also available on AO3

Tags in the replies.

#may prompts 2024 #may 8: hobby #sherlock fandom #rosie watson #sherlock #john watson #johnlock #bbc sherlock #sherlock fanfic #ao3 fanfic

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odiesdayoff · 2 years ago

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Studying Pays Off (4)

pair: edward nashton x fem!reader

summary: Your two weeks are almost up!

warnings: smut (series) (MINORS DNI); nothing explicit in this part

part three | part five

Between the piles of work given to you by each of your professors and the piles of work that Edward had given to his students, you were finally realizing exactly why everyone called this period “hell week”. You’ve barely slept and whenever you had the opportunity to eat a somewhat decent meal, you were multitasking while doing it.

The only break you got, mentally, was during Edward’s class. You didn’t have to do much, other than click to move the slide in his lesson, and it gave you ample time to plan different ways to mess with him.

Today, though, you wore a big sweater and corduroy pants to combat what you hoped was the last snow of the season. Not as promiscuous as your usual outfit, but you weren’t going to freeze just to make him a little nervous. It was May and you were sure that this kind of weather should’ve stopped by now.

During the class, you worked on your final spreadsheet for one of your other classes and kept an ear out for whenever Edward got to the end of the slide he was talking about. This was the last class session of the semester, and your attention needed to be split in order to get everything done. It’s not like the students cared that much if you weren’t excitedly nodding at every bullet point he went over. Most of them were in the same situation as you.

You barely noticed when Edward dismissed the class if it weren’t for the cheers by the students knowing that they’ll never have to deal with him again in their lives. You were the only one brave (or dumb) enough to stick around with him. A few of the students came to thank you for your tutoring over the semester and offer their social media.

Once they all filtered out, the two of you were left. No more papers to grade or classes to sit through. Just you and him. Mutual adults that happened to find each other attractive. You had no more classes for the day and you were more than happy to go back to your small apartment and get some sleep in before finishing up the last of your work.

His things were already packed as he waited for you, “The subway’s always congested on days like this. Nobody wants to get a little snow on them.”

“Funny. It’s the opposite for the regular streets. Nobody wants to risk driving,” You picked up your bag and threw it over your shoulder. You paused, “Actually, do you want a ride to your apartment?”

He took a deep breath and thought for a moment, “That…would be nice. I’m not great with cars, though.”

“Relax, I’m a fantastic driver,” You jingled your keys in front of him and started to walk out of the classroom. You were glad that you never had to step foot into the room again, that is if you aren’t offered the position again. You were still on the fence about accepting even if it was given to you.

The both of you walking together to your car didn’t look as suspicious as you originally thought it would. After all, you were more co-workers than you were professor and student. The only jarring thing was the age gap of…ten years maybe? Give or take a few.

You unceremoniously threw all of the empty water bottles and receipts from the passenger seat to the back before Edward opened the door. You weren’t a dirty person, but definitely a disorganized one. He would faint if he ever saw the state of your room. You were sure everything that he owned was organized with some filing system or something. He seemed like the type.

You turned on the radio and lowered the volume, not like there were any good songs on anyway, just to not have silence. You weren’t lying when you said that you were a good driver, but your nerves made you extra careful about everything that was already second nature to you.

Edward was quiet for the entire ride, other than giving you directions to his place. Quite the opposite of his normal attitude of talking your ear off whether you like it or not. What was he nervous about? He was the passenger!

As you pulled up to the curb in front of his building, he clutched his bag and turned to face you, “If you’re not doing anything, you’re more than welcome to come up. I mean, the class is over now.”

You caught your breath. He was finally ready. Even three days before his original two-week promise. The grip you had on the wheel tightened, turning your knuckles white. Maybe an orgasm or two would help with your stress level?

“I have so much work right now,” You couldn’t believe the angel on your shoulder actually took the reigns. All you’ve wanted for months is to get royally fucked by the man in front of you and he was literally asking you to come up to his apartment. Yet you deny him, “I’m sorry, you don’t know how much I want to.”

He smiled, but you could see a dash of disappointment in his eyes, “It’s okay, honey. We’ll keep our date. Friday, last day of the semester.” He got out of the car and held onto the door for a moment, looking at you. You smiled back, your inner voice screaming at you to tell him that you actually don’t care about the work you have to do and would much rather go with him.

You watched him enter his building and sat in your car for a minute. All that messing with him seemed to work, on the bright side, he was more than willing to get down with you before his strict two-week rule. You noticed a sticky note that had his apartment number left on the passenger seat. That was one small thing to smile about.

Once you reached your pillow in your apartment, you promptly passed out.

Upon waking up and being fully rested, even if it was around 2 in the morning, the weight of your decisions finally sunk in. You were here, in your bed, when you could have been in Edward’s. You groaned and rolled out from the bed and into your living room. There was only one big project you had to do before Friday and you had already done the bulk of it, thankfully.

Edward had no space in your mind. Only numbers. Equations. Accounts. The hours working on this project melted your brain, but by the ripe time of 6 in the morning, you were finished. All you had to do was show up to class and hand it in to your professor. You were done, at least for now.

Your class, unfortunately, wasn’t until Friday. Today was Wednesday. You had nothing to do and you knew that someone else was in the same situation: Edward.

Only wearing pajama pants with Garfield and Odie printed all over and a big t-shirt that you got from orientation, your mind was set. You grabbed your keys and ran down to your car. Somehow, you still knew how to get to his apartment even though you’d only done it once. You weren’t exactly thinking with your brain.

Once parked, you took the note and headed into the building. You tried the elevator, broken. Though a bit disappointing, you were not going to let a few flights of stairs stop you from getting the night, or morning in this case, that you’ve been waiting months for.

You looked at every door until you found the right number and banged on it. Maybe it was a little uncouth of you to be a nuisance to him and his neighbors, but they just had to understand how desperate you really were.

A different door opened and a man in a suit walked out. He looked at you with a raised brow and continued to the stairwell. You were well aware that you were far from dressing to the nines.

After a moment, Edward opened the door. He rubbed his eyes. He was still in what he slept in, “Y/n? It’s six-thirty.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m aware.” You pushed through the door, “And I’m more than ready to take you up on the offer from yesterday.”

Edward looked you up and down, smirking at the pants, “I thought I was the desperate one here. The bedroom’s down the hall.”

#edward nashton x reader #the riddler x reader #studying pays off

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kalinara · 2 years ago

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So in my last post, I talked a lot about what I think they’re doing with the New Republic. Or at least, what I think the point is. (I think ultimately, we’ll see a move toward getting rid of the Imperial elements entirely.)

But I didn’t really get into why I think it’s happening in the Mandalorian. After all, it’s not like Din Djarin will be out to fix the New Republic.

I think there are two reasons: first, Moff Gideon is still a factor. He’s out there, and he’s going to be making trouble. My guess is that Elia’s working for him, and that Pershing will be fair game once he’s had his sessions.

But I think there’s a second reason too. And that’s the Children of the Watch.

Disclaimer: I ALSO still haven’t gotten around to watching the Clone Wars Mandalorian episodes (I really hate 3d animation! Sorry!) so I may be utterly flubbing up details.

As always, take me with a grain of salt.

So, Bo-Katan Kryze. I love her. I think her plot right now is fascinating. I really never expected to see her welcomed into the covert, or, at least for now, actually making a genuine attempt to live according to their customs. (Did Din realize that she’d be welcomed in? Is that why he’d recommended she not take off her helmet?)

I remember seeing some fan complaints about a twitter timeline that really seemed to white wash Bo-Katan and her past with the Death Watch, and presented both as opponents rather than allies/subordinates to Darth Maul.

It’s particularly interesting because in the first episode of the season Bo-Katan attacks the Children of the Watch, and other similar groups, for tearing apart Mandalore. She conveniently forgets to mention that she was part of one of those groups. Then we have that aforementioned twitter thing that mentions the Death Watch, but glosses over what they actually did.

It’s particularly interesting given that it’s very obvious that the Children of the Watch ARE Death Watch. Or at least a splinter group from them. They have a Vizsla. Din lived on Concordia. They could definitely be described as “embrac[ing] their history in combat” though they seem to avoid outright war.

That said, the Children of the Watch are also NOT the Death Watch. They’re, by Mandalorian standards anyway, practically pacifistic. They train to fight and defend themselves, but they don’t make war with anyone. They live by a fairly draconian creed, but there’s no indication that they seek to force it on others. Leaving aside the ethics of having a child swear to a binding oath before he’s fully able to understand (see also, the pre-Imperial Jedi), the punishment for breaking said oath is exile, not death. They can choose to leave at any time.

It is rather fascinating how much that description fits the Jedi as well, but that’s another meta.

But they do seem to keep the trappings of the Death Watch, don’t they? And how much do those trappings really mean? We see the Children of the Watch through Din Djarin’s eyes, but we’ve established that there’s a fuck-lot that Din doesn’t know that he really should.

Is everyone on the same page about the Children of the Watch? Does everyone want to be on the same page?

And then there’s Bo-Katan Kryze. This is where my knowledge of the Clone Wars fails me, but I feel like the Children of the Watch probably are really attractive to her. They’re traditionalists, but not terrorists. She might find the helmet thing a little silly, but they seem to have some pretty compatible values deep down. And after all her experiences, it might even feel good to strip away all the cosmopolitan trappings and feel the essence of being Mandalorian.

But she’s not a child. She’s not Din Djarin thirty years ago or Ragnar Viszla now. She has a past, and it’s a pretty bloody one. And there’s a good chance that at least some of the people in that covert remember that.

I’m not sure how old Paz Viszla is, but let’s assume he’s Din’s age or a little older. But where did he come from? Din kept his own name, though he hadn’t heard it in years. Paz’s name is spoken all the time. Dare we assume that he comes by it naturally? And if so, then did he know Pre Vizsla? Did he ever see Bo-Katan way back when?

And of course, there’s the Armorer, who wears Rook Kast’s colors and zabrak horns. Have we ruled out that theory yet? Would Bo-Katan recognize her? Thirty years is a long time, and it’s easy to be blind to things we wouldn’t want to see. Either way, the Armorer definitely knows Bo-Katan’s past.

(There’s an interesting CBR article that theorizes that Bo will expose the Armorer, which is fair. Rook Kast’s crimes far exceed Bo-Katan’s. But Bo is still keeping her own secrets.)

At any rate, the Armorer is the one who issued the invitation to Bo-Katan, in the same episode that Elia Kane lured Doctor Pershing into a trap. In a society that appears idealized, but still holds onto a lot of elements of its darker heritage.

Would an “it’s a trap” gif be appropriate here? Because I kind of think it might be.

#mandalorian speculation #problematic princess who pegs #(I really do love Bo-Katan - I find her fascinating in her flaws - so much fun)

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wanderingcas · 2 years ago

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going through old documents, found an "attack on titan" destiel au that i wrote a little while back for @aerodaltonimperial. thought i'd post it somewhere!

Dean first saw Castiel Novak on his third day as a recruit of the 104th Cadet Corps.

Every one of the freshly new recruits were getting trained on the mobility gear apparatus—for flying through the air with cables, and having more of a chance fighting the Titans, apparently. Having seen a Titan up close and personal, the damage and carnage it could cause, Dean had serious doubts whether flying through the air in a thing like that would do anything against those giant dumb monsters.

But seeing Castiel training on the apparatus, his legs and arms delicately balanced while being suspended by the wires, his jet-black hair catching the sunlight as he gracefully hung in the air—Dean could only stare, stunned, and feel for the first time that they had some sort of hope against the monsters that stalked the walls.

After that, Dean seemed to notice Castiel everywhere.

It made no sense that he did; they were polar opposites. Where Dean had a group of new friends he ate with in the mess hall, Castiel ate dinner by himself. Dean was mouthy to his superiors during his training sessions—it was a motivational technique for himself, to defy authority—while Castiel sweat through each of the drill rounds without complaint or any signs of slowing down.

Dean was loud, brash, flirty—Castiel was moody, and Dean heard him say all of two words in the first two weeks they were there (a “thank you” to one of the people serving them food in the mess hall).

Dean kept trying to talk to him on the training field, but all he got was a glare. Dean wasn’t sure why he wanted to break Castiel’s mysterious exterior, figure out what his deal was—maybe because the more walls that went up, the more Dean wanted to knock them down.

A month into their training, Dean and Castiel were assigned to each other for a sparring session. Castiel slammed Dean onto the ground in a few short moves, their chests heaving together from the effort, and Dean discovered that he didn’t even mind losing.

“You sure you’ve been here as long as me?” Dean joked as Castiel helped him up from the ground. “You seem more advanced than the rest of us.”

Castiel’s face was blank when he replied, “I picked things up all along the way.”

Dean watched Castiel’s back as he walked away, then went back into the starting position with his fists raised. “So what’s your deal, anyway?” Dean asked. “Nobody even knows where you’re from.”

“Will that help you win this fight?” Castiel bent his legs as if to spring forward.

Running a hand through his sweaty hair, Dean admitted, “Well, no.”

“Then I don’t see how it’s relevant.” Without warning, Castiel pounced at him, Dean held up his arms to defend Castiel’s blows, and they once again began circling each other in the combat ring.

Castiel started hanging out with a girl called Meg—another loner among the recruits. Dean tried not to be jealous of her getting all of Castiel’s secret smiles. They were the most insular pair in the training camp, murmuring to each other whenever they hung out at the mess hall.

“I’m going to make that guy my friend,” Dean told Charlie, “if it’s the last goddamn thing I do.”

“Careful, Winchester, or I’d think you’re developing a crush,” Charlie teased him with a small jab of her elbow to his side.

“Am not,” Dean grumbled, pushing her away.

Benny leaned over the table “Wait, are you talking about Novak?” At Dean’s nod, Benny whistled low through his teeth. “You know that guy is crazy, right? I heard he killed a guy before coming here, and they were going to put him in jail, but forced him to do this training to become a Scout instead.”

“No, you got it all wrong,” Jo cut in. She was munching on an apple and wiping the juice from her chin. “I heard that he wouldn’t even come here unless they made him a Scout. He’s this really good fighter, right? Was part of some underground fighting ring, totally illegal. Decided to join just on a whim.”

“Bullshit,” Benny said. “You got it all wrong, Little Harvelle, as usual.”

“I told you not to call me that,” Jo said through clenched teeth, pointing her apple menacingly in his direction.

Dean sighed, and stood with his empty plate to leave his friends to argue. As he passed Castiel’s table, they shared eye contact for a split second before Dean averted his eyes. Putting his dirty plate on the pile with the others, he braced his shoulders as he walked into the cold.

He stood with his back against the wall of the large building, feeling the bricks dig into his shoulder blades and listening to the buzz of the recruits inside the large hall. He faced the forest enshrouded the training camp, taking a deep breath of chilled autumn air. Mosquitos buzzed on the wind.

“Mind if I join you?”

Dean nearly jumped out of his skin at the voice. He turned to Castiel, who was standing there with blank eyes. Dean nodded, dumbly, and gestured to the space on the wall next to him.

“It was getting too loud in there,” Castiel explained as he leaned against the wall. “I assume it was the same for you.”

Dean stared at him.

"What?" Castiel asked, expression twisting into something uncomfortable.

“Dude, I think that’s the most you’ve ever said to me. Ever.”

Castiel huffed a laugh. He slid to the ground and sat with his elbows resting on his knees. “It’s not my fault that you only attempted to talk to me while we were training.”

“You’re the kind that gets in the zone, huh?”

“You could say that.”

Dean sat next to him. He spreads his legs out in the cool grass. “Well, I’m Dean. If you didn’t already know that.”

Castiel nodded. “I did.”

“And that’s really your name—Castiel?” At Castiel’s nod, Dean hummed. “Well, that’s a mouthful. I think I’m just gonna call you Cas.”

Castiel shrugged one shoulder. “If you wish.”

Dean grinned. “Cas,” he said again into the dark night. “Yeah, that sounds way better.”

Cas gave Dean one of his small, secret smiles, and Dean’s heart jolted from the sight of it. “I agree,” he said, softly.

#attack on titan au #destiel #my writing #will i write more of this?#maybe. if i get bullied enough #if you haven't seen the anime or read the manga don't worry #you can still read this drabble and kinda get the idea

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parksprout · 6 days ago

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Sprout Journal 11/16/24-11/17/24

Hey Tumblr! It's been another couple of days since I wrote an actual journal entry, so this'll be another one of those two for one sorta deals. I meant to write another entry yesterday, but truthfully that vent post encapsulated almost everything I was thinking for the past several days and I opted to live in the catharsis of not having much else on my mind for the day. I got a lot of my stress out about my situation in that post, but it was also exhausting! I'm gonna talk a little bit more about this at the end, though. Save those who might not want to hear about my (lack of) love life the trouble.

I'll get into two days ago first! So honestly I can barely remember my work day. I spent a lot of it tweaking out. I was not feeling very good mentally, and it showed. Frankly I don't wanna dwell on it too much, it was work and it was a bad day at work, that's really it. The evening got soooo much better anyways!! I had my first DnD session in a few weeks, and god I needed it so badly. I don't feel like typing out everything that happened in the session right now considering I already need to write a recap for my players and that just feels like homework twice, BUT I WILL SAY that it was almost exclusively improv on my part and I was extremely proud of how I performed. There is one player of mine who seems to be way more interested in the combat aspect of the game than in the actual roleplay portions, so I struggled a bit to make it interesting for him, but besides that it was a very roleplay and character heavy session that everyone did very well in.

Yesterday, the 17th, was a pretty good day overall actually. I started off morning by writing out a very long vent post that... was basically self therapy. Work was busy, my coworkers were all present and we shared a lot of laughs - I don't like a couple of them, but the ones that I get along really well with were also there so... it ended up being a pretty good day. After I got home from work I ended up doing some homework, hitting up the gym and then calling my friend Sammy for a couple of hours to play some video games. Honestly? Without him right now? I don't think I'd be okay. I

I know that this was kinda a lack luster journal, but I'm not that interested in writing at the moment! I have a bit of a headache. I'm gonna do the usual thing here and include another section below this picture where I talk about my feelings about The Bnuuy. That's what these journals were originally about and what purpose they serve, after all, is to say things that I'm feeling about the breakup

I was proud of myself yesterday. After I wrote my vent post I kinda just... breathed for a bit. I re-read my thoughts maybe five or six times and dwelt on every line, thought about what I feel and... how best to continue to heal from this. I actually read a large amount of it to my friend last night when I called him. Sometimes? I struggle sharing my emotions with other people. Aaron was the only person I ever really felt okay speaking my whole truth to, so... it was foreign getting into the details of how I feel with somebody else.

I told my friend a few things in particular. The first being how close I came to asking Aaron out a few days ago... he was at first appalled, he asked "did you actually say anything to them???" with this incredulous tone that made me laugh. After I reassured him that no, all I did was write this fuck-ass journal about it, say "Hey Aaron? Do you know you're pretty?" like a tool and then cry at work, he was oddly proud of me. I struggle a lot with self control, especially when it comes to emotional expression. It takes a lot of reigning in to keep myself from saying what I want to, from expressing my true intentions, from making situations worse through my blunt honesty. He knows I wanted to reach my hand out to The Bnuuy so badly, but that I held myself back; that's why he was proud. Sammy is a huge advocate for culling hope. He's a realist, an engineering major who genuinely enjoys the mathematics of the world and believes that there is a calculus behind human actions. One Park + One Aaron ≠ Able To Date Right Now. Or at least... that's what I thought he'd say. I read off that post and... I think it unlocked a new understanding of me as a person to Sammy, which is hard to think about haha. He's known me for a decade but he's still less familiar with my inner workings than my partner of three years? That's... crazy. Anyways I'm going on a tangent.

Sammy told me that... while he may not understand exactly how my heart works, and he can't gauge Aaron's any better, but he did tell me that he's never seen me like this before. He told me that he's watched me grow since I met this person and that they really do seem like the right one for my heart.. but he also warned me that I'm being impatient, too. He lambasted me for a while about how I shouldn't be asking them out any time soon, but he did agree that it's probably my responsibility to be the one to try in the future. He told me that I am a fun person with hobbies, interests, humor, that I'm pretty and definitely worth dating... but I'm not going to be able to convince Aaron of that while still healing from the breakup. I asked him if I should try again someday, and he told me that, and I quote, "if you became the kind of person to give up on someone after one try and failure, you'd stop being the person I know. I don't want to lose the person that I know, so be honest with yourself about being in love and show them that you can be the best fucking friend possible first. Then, see if you can be something more, but better than you were. Don't get broken up with again because you aren't their friend first" and then he called me a slur lol. We also talked about the future. I told Sammy that no matter what, I think I want to live out west. He told me that he knows that it's always been my dream to live somewhere out there - even before Aaron I wanted to move to Washington or Oregon - so he would respect my decision if I left. He might even follow me someday. He also told me to say hi to Aaron because he knows that I talk to him every day still. He said to say some other stuff too, but it made me too sad to type it to Aaron alksjdfhksdjf Sammy said that we better get past this and get back into a serious relationship so he has an excuse to come visit with me, he wants to go traveling. I hope that can happen someday, I would love for my platonic best friend and my other (<3) best friend to meet. Anyways that's all, this is super rambly and weird because I am literally walking around campus writing this section (the rest was in a draft alsdkjfasdfdsf) SO GOODBYE TUMBLR!! I LOVE YOU!!! HAVE A GOOD DAY TUMBLR!!! BYE!!! BAI!!! BYEE!!!

#sproutposting #sproutjournals #journalpostingomg #journaling??#in the tumblr striahgt up writing it #and by it...#lets just say...#my journal #<3 baiiiiii #11/16/24 #11/17/24

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rheawritessometimes · 4 years ago

Text

{ Childe x GN!Reader }

{ Summary } Childe gets an owie while sparing. Series Masterlist

{ Warnings } Violence, Swearing, Angry Reader, Injury, Physical Intimacy (Kissing).

{ Notes } Hurting Childe just a little because he refused to come home for me. Lost the 50/50. Reader is a sword user. Reader is suggested to be the Traveler. Self-indulgent again because all my writing is. This one is a real trainwreck but I didn't want to go too long without posting. Something better than nothing? Masterlist

{ Word Count } 2,404

Meeting Childe at the Golden House every week had been your routine for a while now. Right after you had defeated him the first time, he immediately begged you to train with him and you gave in, unable to bear those puppy-dog eyes. And the entire week he spent pestering you about it.

The whole fiasco with Osial had been put behind the both of you. It was probably true that you were too quick to forgive Childe, but he was just so charming. Not to mention he often paid for your meals, suggesting going out to eat after your sessions or if he saw you around the harbor. On a few occasions, you had been out eating with friends or on your own and found he had picked up your tab.

Since Liyue hadn't been destroyed and you got free food out of it, you really weren't all too upset about the situation. The Snezhnayan was actually pretty easy to get along with when Fatui matters weren't involved. He made you laugh too, so you supposed you could tolerate the once-weekly sparing sessions with him.

Childe called it sparing, but normal people didn't spar with actual weapons and fight like they were going to kill their partner. At first, you had tried to convince him it would be much better and safer for the both of you to use practice weapons instead of sharpened blades and arrows. He was quick to decline, saying something about both of you being competent enough not to get seriously hurt. You thought about refuting that on the basis that he had yet to beat you even once.

Even so, every week you found yourself pushing through the doors to the chamber Childe was always patiently waiting in. You'd never gotten there before him and wondered if he intentionally came early. You wouldn't be surprised if that was the case, he probably paced the room plotting his seemingly unobtainable victory.

The hydro vision paired with his combat experience and skill made him a difficult opponent, but he didn't seem terribly good at strategy. He might have been careless because it wasn't a real fight, but somehow you doubted that. He seemed the type to always give it his all. It could be that was his problem, since his loss usually came due to his exhaustion. Maybe if he didn't spend so much energy trying to show off he'd actually be a proper challenge.

"You're finally here," Childe proclaimed dramatically, voice echoing off the walls, "I thought you might have gotten lost on the way or something. Was starting to worry I'd need to go out and rescue you."

"I'm fifteen minutes early, Childe. How long have you been waiting?" you asked dryly, raising your eyebrow questioningly. You took a moment to shrug your adventuring pack off your shoulders and drop it near the door. You rolled your shoulders, relieved to be free of the weight.

"Ahah, anyways, we should get started. I have some business to attend to today," he responded, indiscreetly ignoring your question. It shouldn't have been very surprising that he didn't wait for your response before sending an arrow flying in your direction, but he'd always waited for you to signal you were ready before starting in the past.

Materializing your sword out of habit more than anything else, you raised it to block the arrow with the flat of the blade. The arrow bounced off the metal with a weak dink, clattering to the ground. If you'd reacted a moment later it would have pierced you.

You shot Childe a dirty look, irate from the cheap shot. He responded by grinning wider and taking aim again. You silently promised that he would face your wrath shortly.

Advancing towards him, you swatted the arrow flying your way with your sword. A bow would be less effective at close range, so you intended to close the distance. The redhead laughed, a hint of nervousness creeping into the sound at the pace of your advance. Or perhaps it was the building rage in your eyes.

The bow dematerialized, now Childe held dual hydro-blades in his hands in anticipation of close combat. Once in range, he immediately swiped at you with a blade. You stepped back out of the way, quickly bringing up your sword to parry the next slash coming from the opposite blade.

Childe seemed encouraged by you backing away, a smug look crossing his face. You furrowed your brows, he was so unthoughtful. He insists on using real weapons, shoots at you before you're ready, and now he has the audacity to get cocky.

You raise your blade to swing down at him and he catches your sword on crossed hydro-blades. He lets out a little huff of air, not expecting you to strike with such force, but his arms hold steady. You swiftly draw your blade back to slash at him again. Thorough training has you swiping at him with practiced ease while Childe is forced to switch to the defensive.

It gives you a sort of satisfaction to see his expression change to one of worry, it was your first time seeing such a look on him. You had no intention of actually hurting him, but it was nice to scare him a little. Maybe after this, he'd take the dangers of sparing with actual weapons a little more seriously. But probably not.

You're hardly thinking when his hydro-blades finally fail to parry your blows, the flat of your blade slamming into the side of his chest resulting in a soft crack barely loud enough to reach your ears. A look of surprise crosses your face when he lets out a pained grunt, what had happened finally being processed in your mind.

Immediately you drop your sword, ignoring it as it clatters to the ground before dematerializing. You were internally relieved to see his hydro-blades dissipate too, it would have been terribly unsportsmanly of him to stab you now. Stepping forward on instinct, you pause as you realize you're not exactly sure what to do.

Childe clutches his chest as he coughs a few times and a flood of panic washes over you. If you broke his ribs, his lungs could have been punctured. That would be bad.

"Fuck, that hurts," he huffed out before he attempted to gingerly sit down, right in the middle of the Golden House. Childe winced at the movement, but he managed to settle, leaning on his arms for support. His breathing was heavy from the strain of sparing and you felt extremely guilty, broken ribs had a tendency to hurt terribly and pain would flare up with every breath. At least he seemed to be breathing okay, so his lungs were probably intact.

"Let me get something to ease the pain," you said hastily, jogging towards the door to grab your bag. Your first thought was to numb him up before bringing him to Bubu Pharmacy to get some proper help.

"Aw, are you actually worried about me?" he cooed teasingly, maintaining that signature annoying grin despite the pain that followed him speaking. It was easy to ignore him as you rummaged through your bag for something useful.

It crossed your mind that it would be exceedingly difficult to get him all the way back to Liyue if you gave him anything strong. That limited your options rather greatly, adding that on to your lacking medical knowledge and limited variety of resources left you with fewer options than you would have liked. He probably could make it back without any anesthetic but it would be slow and you'd feel terrible for it.

Even with your lack of selection, you were thankful to have some knowledge and materials for this sort of thing, adventuring made you better at improvising and you learned a lot along the way. Taking everything into consideration, you decided it would be best to go with something topical. You could make a salve to numb up the area and then hopefully drag him to Bubu Pharmacy.

"I'm really sorry, Childe," you apologized, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Oh don't worry about it, this isn't the first time I've broken my ribs. Probably won't be the last, either," he replied with a laugh, which caused him to wince. You only frowned at him as you pulled out some plants to grind up. A rock would have worked, but you kept a mortar and pestle for this kind of thing after realizing you'd be doing it often.

You were soon mashing some leaves and a few petals into a paste, with some water Childe so graciously provided. Having a hydro user around was rather convenient when practicing field medicine.

"Whatcha makin'?" Childe asks after a short period of silence, leaning over to get a closer look. You wonder if he's actually curious or if he just can't tolerate the quiet. It seemed the two of you were always talking when you were together, save for when your sparing got too intense to spare the breath.

"A salve to numb you up so I can drag you to Bubu Pharmacy," you responded, still mostly focused on getting the paste to the right consistency.

"What? No, I can't go. I've got work to do," he argued, moving to stand up now.

You were quick to grab his wrist to prevent him from getting up, furrowing your brows. Childe paused, waiting for your explanation.

"You have at least one broken rib, whatever you need to do can wait," you told him sternly, maintaining eye contact. He turned his gaze away from you to hum in contemplation. He knew well enough that giving injuries time to heal was important, but so was his job.

"Fine, I guess what I was supposed to do today isn't that important," he relented, leaning back into a comfortable position once more. Childe had a feeling that if he had insisted on working you'd have found a way to stop him anyway.

"Can you take off your shirt?" you asked, trying to sound as casual and not awkward as possible once you were satisfied with the consistency of the paste. You would have offered to allow him to apply it himself but you figured it would be less painful this way, plus you'd need to bandage his chest afterward, so it didn't make much of a difference.

"Oh my, you're not usually this bold," he teased, reaching to begin undoing the clasps holding his jacket together. His remark made you decide against offering your assistance despite the awareness that even just wriggling out of the jacket probably hurt. It's okay to be a little petty sometimes. As a treat.

Once his torso was bare you shifted your position to be a bit closer and examined his side. There was already the beginning of bruising, but it would get much darker by tomorrow. You ignored the scars and other bruises that were present, very aware of the fact the redhead would tease you for staring if you looked any longer.

"I promise I'll be gentle," you assured, "But it'll probably hurt a little."

Childe just hummed, waving off your warning, so you gathered some of the salve on your fingers. You silently wished you'd had gloves that weren't absorbent with you so your hands wouldn't grow numb later.

It was a quick process of spreading the paste over his ribs, but his eyes remained on you the entire time. You couldn't be sure if he was just interested in what you were doing, but it surprised you that he remained entirely silent.

"It'll take a little while to numb up. I'm going to bandage your chest for support. This will hurt more," you informed him, dragging your pack towards you to dig out a roll of bandages.

"Don't worry, I'm a tough boy," he laughed in response, and you could only smile and shake your head at him. You had faith in his strength, but that didn't stop the guilt you felt over being responsible for his pain. It did make you feel better when he started reminiscing on past injuries he'd sustained in battle once you began bandaging him. How he could look back on them so fondly was a mystery to you.

At first, you were mindful to touch him as little as possible while you were wrapping the bandages. They needed to be a little tight to provide support but you tried to ensure they put as little pressure on his ribs as possible. Unfortunately, your fingers started to grow numb and you hadn't realized you'd been bandaging too tightly until Childe let out a soft grunt of pain.

"Fuck, sorry," you apologized, quickly unraveling the last section of bandaging to rewrap it more loosely.

"Don't worry about it," he said, thinking for a moment before adding, "But, if you want to make it up to me, a kiss would make me feel better."

Pausing in your ministrations, you looked up to see a cheeky grin on his face. You raised a brow, giving him an entirely unimpressed expression. It wasn't entirely uncommon for him to flirt like this, trying to get a reaction out of you. But as you reached one hand up to gently grab his chin, it was his turn to become flustered.

Leaning up, you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek before moving away and releasing your hold on him. You patted his cheek twice, giving him an amused grin.

"You're welcome."

"Hey! That doesn't count!" Childe immediately whined, pouting at you. You could only laugh at his playful antics as you finally finished wrapping his chest.

"You're cruel, you know that?" the Snezhnayan grumbled, eyebrows still furrowed as he continued to pout. He really did seem like a spoiled kid at this moment and you laughed again, causing his frown to deepen.

You knew his demeanor was all theatrical, but as you stared at his expression you found yourself leaning towards him again. You gently pressed your lips to his, smiling into the kiss when his hands eagerly flew up to your face. You indulged in the kiss for a few moments, smirking when he followed you as you pulled away. Putting a hand on his shoulder, you halted his attempt to continue.

"You can have another kiss once you get checked out at Bubu Pharmacy."

If you read all that, I'm sorry lol. I wanted to spend more time on it but I don't want to take too long posting things. Anyways, if you have any better ideas for what I should write send them in. Please.

There's a part two now: Part 2

#.rhea writes #.r let's make a deal #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #childe x reader #genshin childe #childe #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #genshin tartaglia #tartagalicious #taking my anger out on childe #but also simping for childe #fluff #is this fluff?

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jeagerism · 4 years ago

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(i tried writing this mostly for @sallysoot dodisid) but since it's like canon that philza was techno's mentor as a kid and into adulthood, i'll just say

don't think abt being the third counterpart in the sibling-ship that tommy and wilbur have. don't think abt techno coming over all the time to train with phil - which was good, because whenever techno came over, phil stayed around. it was almost like he was an actual father, nevermind how much it stung to see him ruffle techno's hair whenever he did something that made him proud. he doesn't speak much, at least not to you. sometimes you catch the rumble of his voice as he asks wilbur a question, or answers to tommy's increasingly whiney begs to hold his sword. don't imagine feeling a tugging at your chest whenever techno let's his shoulders fall, releasing tension from keeping his guard up, rays of sun casting a pretty glow onto his face during the summer.

don't imagine how you notice that he always looked empty, for someone so young. how he always kept his face covered by that familiar mask, never let himself reveal whatever lied underneath to any of you. all you knew of him were striking eyes and thin pink lips. don't imagine how, one day, months after his first appearance, you're looking out from the kitchen, gazing at the snow that lay in blankets around your family's home. and you see him. phil had said he was dismissed hours ago, but there he was, still going. huffing, you reach over onto the table in front of wilbur, taking the unattended mug of tea you'd made minutes ago, and starting towards the door. your brother doesn't mutter a word, too enamoured with the book in front of him - you're pretty sure he'd snuck into phil's study earlier, but you'll let him do what he wishes. it wasn't as if the older would notice.

don't imagine slipping your coat around your shoulders as you step out, thin socks soaking through to your bare feet as they meet the snowy ground. keeping a hand over the top of the mug, you stumble awkwardly over to the area where he's always occupied in front of your home, for months now. you begin to set the cup onto the bench you frequent on days warm enough to come out and watch - nothing but simple curiosity - when a frustrated cry rings throughout the empty space, bouncing off of nearby trees and echoing back to you. turning, your fingers become loose around the ceramic.

don't imagine seeing techno sling the mask off, tossing it to the side with disdain. as he begins to face where you're standing, your fingers slip from around the hot mug, liquid arching up and back down onto your feet, splashing parts of your legs.

cursing, you yank the cup from the floor. when you look back up, startling ruby eyes meet your own. they all but steal the air from your chest. there's a shake in your legs as you swallow, gathering as much confidence you can into the swell of your throat as you speak. "sorry, i was, well, i...its cold and i had tea and then." you shake your head, trying to clear thoughts of the way his cheeks looked so pink from the cold - his hair nearly matched. "im sorry." once you're back inside the confines of your home, back pressed to the spruce of the door, you release air you weren't aware you were holding. tommy asks why you look so shocked. wilbur snickers to himself, but when you open your eyes to glare at him, he's only giving you a coy smile. the book he had is closed in his lap.

don't imagine the months of that winter after that being spent inside, never even daring to go too close. don't imagine the spring that comes after, slowly bleeding into another summer, an entire year of the presence of technoblade. don't imagine continuing watching countless training sessions from the same bench you'd finally seen him from - memorizing the way his hair looks really pretty the way it is now - long enough to be put into a ponytail that gathers at the nape of his neck, baby hairs slicked to the skin with sweat.

don't imagine going between watching the combat in front of you and paying attention to the enchanted book wilbur had given you as a gift days before. you'd found it strange at the time - you hadn't thought wilbur listened much to the rambling you did about wanting to train yourself - but you'd let it go anyways, accepting the leather bound book.

don't imagine techno sitting on the bench you stay on to watch as he learns, taking a moment to breathe, dragging a hand down his face. and you're in awe. you'd always been starstruck at seeing him, but this is new. now he's up close. and it's just you and him, for now. the only interaction the two of you have come close to is the singular nod he gives you when he enters your kitchen - he seldom does this. you think it's because he doesn't want to intrude. as if he could. he was pretty much royalty around here, with how much tommy droned on about how cool he was, and how many times wilbur had mumbled in agreements to that.

don't imagine the way his head tilts to the side as his shoulders rise and fall with a quiet breath. how he softly speaks your name. and you're confused, because you've never introduced yourself, yet he knows your name. to be fair, he'd never directly introduced himself to you either, but you'd peeked your head around the corner on one of his first days here, and had heard phil ask a simple, "how was your trip here, techno?" don't imagine how he'd quirk an eyebrow up at your gaping silence, a hand reaching out before it drops back down to his lap. he coughs out, "i, um, i'm technoblade."

"i know." your hands are tingling with nervousness, because he's close, and he smells like pine and parchment paper, and his hair looks really soft. don't imagine him scratching the back of his neck, shaking his head the tiniest bit. he did that a lot, you noticed. most often when phil let him take a short break from whatever he was being taught. sometimes he'd mutter a few words, always harsh whispers, before standing straight as if he'd cleared his head with the action.

"do i....scare you?" don't imagine the way he looks embarrassed to even be asking, fingers curling round the old, chipped wood he's sitting on. he'd abandoned the red cape he normally donned earlier on, now just sporting his signature white button up, sleeves unbuttoned at the ends and pushed up to his elbows.

you let out a shocked chuckle. "um, no? i mean, i don't think there's much to be scared of." you want to say how nothing as pretty as him could be scary. intimidating, sure, but not scary in the slightest. "i simply have habits of embarrassing myself in front of people i barely know."

don't imagine the quiet invitation of, "i'd be more than happy to know you."

and so it is. don't imagine how his eyes seem to find yours at least once through every session he has from that point on. he's still not as talkative - in fact, you spend more time in silence than anything, but it's nice. it's comforting. when you're not outside to watch, he begins stopping by the kitchen window that opens directly over the sink. you hand him a bottle of water whenever you see the pink head of hair pop up over the window sill.

don't imagine watching him grow - a thin, wire framed face growing into itself, long legs that he often tripped over at moments growing steady. he grows along side you and tommy and wil; techno teaches them what phil had always refused to. he teaches you himself in quiet moments shared between the two of you. brings you gifts as a thank you for helping him with extra training, as if he wasn't the one teaching you most things.

one evening, after he's ran and fought himself dry, the length of his hair crowding his face - you'd considered telling him of how awfully pretty he looked with long hair. you'd bitten your tongue when any chance had presented itself.

technoblade had always been a friend; he'd been the one to teach you how to make stew properly, had bandaged your finger when you'd burnt it from not paying close enough attention to how close your hand had been to the flame. you remember the way his hands had shook as he'd wrapped the fabric around your fingers. he'd stumbled and tripped all over his words as he'd scolded you.

the evening brings about the chirping of nearby pond animals and the clanking of whatever lay in the woods after sundown. techno takes a seat on the ground beside your bench, shoulder knocking into your calf. staring hard at the hair gathered around his neck, you wet your lips. "can i braid your hair?"

you don't reach out to touch him until he gives you a gentle nod. that was one thing about him - he hated being touched. the only person you'd ever seen touch him was phil, and he'd always let his shoulders brush his ears in embarrassment when that happened.

you shift your body towards him, gathering the amount of hair in your hands, letting it lay across your lap in bunches. as you begin weaving strands between each other, technoblade sighs. "wilbur told me about the land - manburg?"

you click your tongue at him with a soft laugh. "l'manburg", you correct, "and yeah. they've already uh, got people there. started building and stuff." you furrow your brows at the strands of pink hair in your hands. "its good. i mean, i always wanted more for them than this. and they always knew they deserved more."

"so do you." he's still as you loop the last remaining tufts of hair around each other. "and it wouldn't be so bad to have you a little closer."

you try not to pay too much attention to the warmth that blooms in your chest, rising to your ears, across your cheeks. "as if you're not here all the time anyways," you chastise, flipping the end of his braid off your lap. you can feel his eyes follow you as you scoot back to your original spot, gathering the things you'd carried out when you'd sat to watch him at the start. sighing, you meet his gaze with a dead stare. "i will consider it."

techno hums, rising to his feet with the noise. tugging the things you're holding from your grasp, transferring them into his own hold, he nods. "good."

don't imagine the way he helps you move all your stuff into chests weeks after, loading them onto the horse you'd helped him find on the eve of his last birthday. he let's you ride with him for every trip to drop your stuff off to where you'll be living - a small cottage not too far from where he is. on the final trip he helps you down with a hand held out for you to grab, pulling you in close for a moment before he leads you inside.

don't imagine the way he stays with you the first night until sundown, dismissing every worry of the dangers he may face on his way home in the dark. he stays on your couch, sandwiched in between you and the corner of the cushioned material.

"don't worry your head over it", he tells you to quiet your worries, "i'll be fine. im technoblade, remember?" when you roll your eyes at his antics, he bumps his shoulder into yours with a grin. "you act as if you want me to leave so badly."

you scoff into the mug of tea he'd prepared for you after the two of you had set nearly everything up. "whatever", you say, before clearing your throat. "you're ridiculous."

when you fall asleep he's sitting next to you, and when you wake he's gone. there's a red cloak around your shoulders that slips down at your wake - you lift it to your nose with a sleepy smile. pine and parchment.

the next day, he stops by around noon with extra supplies. he's got nothing but that white button up on, and when he sees the cloak draped over your lap as he carries things in, he shakes his head with a breathy, barely there laugh.

don't imagine the way things change. he's with you nearly every night - he makes you food, tells you about his day, listens intently when you tell him of yours over bites of bread and stew. he's always there as you fall asleep. most days he's gone before morning light. others you wake to his rumbled humming as he slips on his shoes to start his day.

the days tommy and wilbur visit, he still shows up. makes conversation with the two over the plans for the nation. often times you catch them hurriedly wrapping up a hushed conversation of serious whispers when you reenter the room. techno's brows always furrow, a crease forming between them that you always want to smooth out with your finger.

when they leave, those are the times he seems troubled. sometimes so terribly inside his own mind that he doesn't flinch when you accidentally brush against him. other nights, when it's just the two of you, he complains he's messed up his hair, because no one does it like you, and spends the minutes it takes you to redo it humming and poking into your calves.

don't imagine the day he visits that he knows something is off.

your mouth if pursed into a frown, something troublesome brewing within. but he carries on as he normally does. an unspoken rule between the two of you - the two of you would talk about bothersome things when either of you chose.

as he sets down the plate in front of you, you catch his wrist with your hand. he tenses for a second, and you give him a regretful glance. "sorry", you call out, and he nods, sitting beside you as he normally does - side to side.

"you knew they were starting a war." it's not a question. your fingers dig into the cushions of the couch. the fire crackling across the room fills the silence after your words.

"i did."

"it's not fair." a sigh. "you should've told me."

"i know." it's his turn to apologise, as his pinkie knocks against your thigh. "i'm sorry."

"it's not as if i wouldn't have been able to handle it."

he wets his lips. "i know." tapping his pinkie against your thigh again, he sucks in a breath. "i was selfish, with you. i didn't want you to worry." you lean your head onto his shoulder; he rests his own atop yours. "im always selfish with you."

just as the last embers of the fire begin to burn, your pinkie wraps around his own.

don't imagine months of travesty involving the land. countless nights of curling into the shoulder of your best friend with whispered doubts. he always quiets them with a brush of his lips against your forehead and a soft "technoblade never dies, you know."

don't imagine seeing techno one night. he's quieter than normal, doing that same old dance of shaking his head, mumbled whispers and sharp breaths. but the grip he has on your pinkie is constant, the same as it always is. the weight of his arm around your shoulders is just as warm as it always is. hands engulfing yours as he fiddles with your fingers, countless unintelligible words and heavy sighs.

"you're sighing a lot for someone who's never worried." your comment seems to jumpstart him again, as he tsks at you.

"well, i'm not worried." a few beats pass. "i'm...contemplating."

"contemplating what?" you glance up at him, eyebrows raised. he shrugs - you think you've seen him shrug a handful of times since you met him. if he ever didn't want to answer something, he just didn't. and if he did, he was always as straight forward as one could be.

you let go of the topic regardless, standing a few minutes later to carry glasses back to the kitchen. the warm water runs over your hands as you rinse away leftover drinks from the cups. once your finished, you shut the water off with a hum, shaking your hands into the sink below you.

when you turn around, he's standing there, eyes slightly widened, his cheeks pink like the cold had been nipping away at him. "techno?"

"you know that i", he shakes his head, eyes darting from every thing they could land on except you. "that i, um."

"are you o-"

"im selfish with you." he breathes the words out like a prayer. "i am, and i...ever since i saw you drop that stupid mug on the floor i've been...all i've known is you."

you swallow as he takes a step closer to where you are. you feel the cold metal of the sink through your shirt. "im really, really selfish and it's even more selfish of me to tell you, but i." techno let's his eyes fall on your face. "i don't want to have missed out on ever telling you that. i don't want that moment to pass me by."

"does this mean i get to keep the cloak?"

and he laughs. the type of laugh that you know means he's caving in on himself, hands twitching, throat dry. "if....if you want to. it's kind of...always been yours anyways?"

"techno."

"yeah?"

"will you kiss me?"

you don't have to ask him twice. the weight of his palm on your cheek is warm, and you'll always wonder how his hands are so soft with all that he does. his fingers take their place along your jaw to tilt your head up; and he's kissing you like a man starved.

when he parts from you with bubblegum cheeks and a small smile, you laugh. that night, he stays. he presses another warm kiss to your cheeks, the tip of your nose, your forehead. you fall asleep with your head tucked into the crook of his neck.

don't imagine opening your eyes the next morning to the sun. it casts shadows and patterns from where it enters the window. when you look up, he's glowing just like he did when you were kids. he's more now, longer hair, his features sharp and mouth pulled down into a permanent straight line. you think he's harder, somehow, but the light softens out all of his harsh edges just fine.

don't imagine ignoring the fact that he probably needs to be up - that he has some meeting with wilbur to attend, some kind of planning for whatever is happening next. you turn into his embrace once more, letting his arm tug you closer as he breathes out slowly.

you'll be selfish with him for a bit more.

#technoblade x reader #technoblade x you #techno x you #techno x reader #mcyt x reader

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inkdemonapologist · 4 years ago

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SESSION TWELVE of the BatIM Call of Cthulhu game, aka Continuing to have a Great Time At The Masquerade! : )

Joey and Bendy destabilised early on, meaning Joey went through the ENTIRE masquerade UNABLE TO STOP SMILING

getting some mixed messages here, Joey

Sometimes u dress ur characters up as rabbits for fun but then you have a lot of emotions about them losing their minds and then u gotta draw them losing their minds while dressed as rabbits... anyway Jack being mind-controlled did NOT help Sammy hold onto his mental stability at this nightmare party in case you were wondering,

ANYWAY HAVE, MORE OUT-OF-CONTEXT QUOTES, UNDER THE CUT

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[GM] Joey, make a POW roll also... [Joey] Oh, boy, [GM] ...because Bendy was also told to enjoy this party, and you guys just passed a plate of food, and he wants to eat! [Jack] FEED YOUR SON! [Joey] No!!! [Henry] HES A HUNGRY BOY! [Sammy] A GROWING BOY!

[Henry] Henry will look back to see if Moonlight is trying to follow them! [GM] He will see that Moonlight has grabbed onto the railing of the stairs and is hobbling slowly down them. [Joey] *extremely evil-sounding cackling*

[Jack] All Cthulhu Official Dice actually come weighted, to make you fail.

[Henry] Gotta try harder than that, bitch! [Henry] ....that wasn't in character. [Jack] It's in character, but he's only thinking it. [Sammy] That's the golden text you see on the wall if you use the seeing tool

[Henry] My Luck is 68, I don't know what y'all are doing! [Jack] We're spending Luck so that we'll fail! [Sammy] BEING UNLUCKY! I've barely spent any Luck, I'm just NOT A LUCKY GUY

[Henry] Oh, Avedon's here, [GM] There's a gunshot, and he tries to shoot Fowler! [Joey] Um, well, uh, whoops!, rest in peace Fowler! [Sammy] Yeah, that'll sort itself out, let's go! [GM] Moonlight seems to reconsider from telling people to grab you guys, to grabbing Avedon instead. [Joey] Oh! THANKS AVEDON, your sacrifice will, not be thought about in the slightest!!!

[Sammy] Is... weird question, does this room look like it matches the architecture of the rest of the house? [GM] [GM] [GM] ...make a sanity check.

[Sammy] It would be a like, Come on Jack, do you know where you are, shake it off, snap out of it, kind of thing. [GM] Why don't you make a... a.... oh boy, [Sammy] One of my REALLY persuasive social skills?

[GM] This probably just registers to Jack as, Sammy griping about a party, which isn't that strange. [Jack] Yeahhhh, he wants to leave. He always does that. I wanna stay at least a little longer! [GM] That just means it's Jack's job to find them something fun and good to do. [Sammy] Oh boy, [GM] I don't think Jack is being compelled to be aggressive about this necessarily, he just feels like he's Jack at a party, doing the things Jack normally does, and trying to have a good time! [Sammy] Ah, and everyone else is being weird, [GM] Yeah! Everybody's being really weird! You're at this nice party, and now you're in this weird room? The party's back there somewhere! [Jack] I mean not that he's opposed to bein' dragged into side rooms at parties by cute boys, but,

[GM] The table looks like a table that Henry has in his house, actually. [Sammy] Have I ever been in Henry's house? These are questions I didn't expect to need to ask tonight.

[Sammy] Jack, this is weird! You see this is weird, right?! [Jack] Well yeah, it is kinda weird that we're in-- what are we doing here? [Joey] Joey is going to grab Jack's arm, and point to the next door, and go "Party is this way!"

[GM] Peter looks worried... [Sammy] Sammy looks worried too! Well, Sammy looks angry, but in a worried way.

[Joey] Joey is going to scream frustratedly. [Sammy] Is there ink in this room? [GM] There is not. [Jack] Is there a party in this room? [GM] Definitely no, only the party you bring with you.

[Joey] Joey is going to scream again. [Joey] He's also going to kick the door. He might stub his toe. [Sammy] Through all this, Joey is smiling. I just need us all to remember that. [Joey] YES. Also his tail is furiously going. [GM] Bendy is also upset! There is nothing to eat here.

[Joey] Joey is going to try to feed Bendy some ideas, [GM] He doesn't want ideas, he wants food!

[Joey] So.... what happens if you fumble a sanity roll?

[GM] See, here's the silly part. At this point, right? At this point, the best place to do the tasks you want to do, involve either getting the stone out of the room with the safe, or having the staff that Henry is currently holding. [Sammy] So you would arrive, by completely different means, to the same place that we are! [GM] Clearly Joey is inside the safe.

[Jack] Bad and naughty Joey Drews get put in the safe to atone for their sins!

[Henry] Henry is going to channel his inner Joey Drew and round the corner and say "No, sorry about him, we're just here on inspection, we need to check the safe." [Henry] Which is probably a Fast Talk, which I hope it isn't, because my Fast Talk is a 5. [GM] Unless you wanna try to turn that into a persuade somehow? [Henry] I'll do Persuade! [GM] What are you doing to persuade them, rather than just lying? [Henry] *rolls* I failed... I'm gonna push it... [Sammy] *uneasy noises* IF YOU PUSH IT AND IT GOES BAD, IT GOES WORSE [Henry] AH! HAHA! I ROLLED A SIX! [Sammy] THAT'S STILL NOT LESS THAN FIVE! [Henry] WELL IM DOING PERSUADE! [Sammy] That means you have to NOT LIE! [Henry] ....Fuck. [Henry] Okay, uh, there's an emergency, we need the contents of that safe. [Sammy] THATS STILL A LIE??? [Joey] NO actually, THAT'S TRUE! [Henry] It IS an emergency!!

[Sammy] Sammy cannot believe that this is working.

[GM] Bendy does wonder what his plan is for getting out of the safe. This does not seem like a fun party place. [Joey] Um, [Joey] Joey says it's a surprise.

[GM] Henry, the safe does indeed open! And there's a Joey! [GM] Bendy says "Oh wow!" [Henry] Henry tries his best to keep a straight face, like yes! this is exactly what he came here for! [Sammy] (Sammy is NOT keeping a straight face) [Jack] (Straight? In this party?)

[Jack] He's probably saying something like, "What are you doing, he's one of us!" [Jack] And that could go either way. That could mean "No, he's chill, I will persuade you to stop!" Or that could mean, "We are also criminals!"

[GM, as the guards] Then why does he look like the Yellow King's messenger? [Henry] *not missing a beat* We get that a lot.

[GM] Something falls from the sky and lands in front of him. And it's a person! [Joey] Is he alive? [GM] Very much not. [Sammy] How... how Illusion of Living canon-compliant is this Joey...?

[Jack] So... it would probably occur to Jack that this is weird for a party,

[Henry] Joey don't touch it! [Joey] Why not? [Henry] There's runes around it. I don't know if you can touch it. [Joey] Joey's gonna touch it. [Henry] *long-suffering sigh* If you get zapped, I'll tell you I told you so!

[Jack] Jack really wishes we were just back at the party right now, you guys... [Jack] Only bad things have happened. [Jack] Pete's traumatised, Joey's goopy, the Lurker ate all of the snacks,

[Sammy] Can I try to break free from Henry? Sammy's gonna try to run over there. [Henry] At this point, Sam can go, if he wants. [Sammy] Okay, cool. Then Sammy's gonna go and put ink in his mouth! [Henry] Goddammit. I was hoping you were going to check on Joey!

[Joey] You can’t take all of the sanity hits! You have to leave some for other people! [Jack] Says you! You got so many temps!! And an indefinite!!

[GM] Bendy probably is complaining loudly about WHY DID HE WALK THROUGH THE RUNES??? [Joey] Oh! I thought he was going to complain about the party, or lack thereof, [GM] That’s part of not having fun at the party, he’s not into that! [Joey] Well, [GM] This is not a fun party activity!!

[GM] But he doesn’t think it will destroy either of them, if you do it right! [Jack] That’s a nice, way to end that sentence,

[Sammy] Let us hurry! May I take the stone? [Joey] Joey shrugs. [Sammy] Sammy will, uh, attempt to reach inside of... whatever this is, and find the stone. [Henry] Reach INTO your LOCAL boss, and you will find A Friend And Boy,

[Sammy] Is there anything in this room that I can pick up, and then hit him in the head with? [GM] Henry has a stick... uh....there’s a projector.... [Sammy] Can I pick that up? [GM] No, you cannot. [Sammy] It would be REALLY funny if Sammy dropped a projector on someone else’s head. [Sammy] HOW THE TURNTABLES!!!

[GM] ...Can you impale with a rocking horse...???? [Sammy] I don’t want to impale, I want to knock him in the head so he passes out!!! Rest your head, it’s time for bed!!!

[Jack] I don’t think Jack has any plans after this! [Jack] I meant that in the sense that he doesn’t know what he’s doing next, but the way I phrased it, now it just sounds like he’s hitting on Fowler, like, he doesn’t have anything to do after this, are you free? That’s not canon.

[Joey] I don’t know how this will go, [Sammy] Good luck! [Joey] But Joey would like to-- [Sammy] Sammy believes in half of you! [GM] w-which Sammy? wHICH HALF?!

[Jack] I know you said “note.” But my brain at first processed that word as “milk.” [Henry] *laughing* “Did you get my milk, Fowler?” [Jack] He drank the last carton and he didn’t buy more! [Sammy] “I’m going to the store, want me to get anything? *jumps into the lake*”

[GM] Combat Jack! [Jack] *exasperated* He’s not a Combat Boy! Jack is soft and warm, like mashed potatoes!!!

[GM] Norman is wondering to Henry if he oughta be concerned about you all getting what you want out of this. [Henry] .....Maybe.

#call of cthulu: haunted hijinx #joey drew #sammy lawrence #jack fain #when in doubt just keep drawing #tHE PERMASMILE IS MY FAVOURITE THING #we're getting close to end of scenario but boy howdy is everything getting [bass-boosted carmeldansen noises]

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bvccy · 4 years ago

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Tenderness and Ferocity | 3. The Dream and the Third Day

Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes x Hydra!Reader Fic Synopsis: The Winter Soldier is starting to make stupid mistakes in the field, which is Bucky's way of trying to wrest back control and sabotage his handlers. Hydra brings a new doctor to figure out what's wrong with him and fix it. As she spends time with him, she becomes fond of the Winter Soldier, and he becomes fond of her. Bucky has other ideas. Or, a fic in which the Winter Soldier is the good guy and Bucky is actually the bad guy. Warnings for this chapter: Angst, Smut, Noncon Word count: 2334 Read on AO3: [link] [Previous Chapter] [Fic Masterlist] [Next Chapter]

"Life in essence can only be sustained because of the discontinuity. Why else does one sleep? Not to rest, but above all to forget. [...] If one could prevent mankind from sleeping, I am convinced that a massacre without end would ensue; it would mean the end of history." — Emil Cioran

All the useless gadgets clattered, without clattering, to the floor. The exposed skin of her back shone against the pressing dark, under a light that wasn't there. Her arms stretched out in front of her to grab the table, to clench in little fists, to crawl away from him... He clasped both her wrists in one heavy hand while he held her by the hip with the other. The stranger looked unfamiliar and out of place, yet boyishly handsome, a lissome thoroughbred cut from pale stone.

He'd already yanked her shirt halfway down her back, leaving a delicate pair of peachy straps to cut into her shoulders as she tried to pull herself up and away. With his other hand, he raised the black flag of her skirt inch by hurried inch. Two flesh hands, pawing at her squirming silhouette.

Those legs that had teased him so were now buckled in a tangle of red lace, at once parted and constricted and leaving her fully victim to him. Above her he loomed, then leaned, slowly down to feel her warmth, his dark green shirt sticking against her back.

In a voice dry with disuse he taunted her to say that she wanted it, to beg for it, though he sounded utterly disinterested and his eyes — he couldn't actually see his eyes, but he could hear that same disuse and disinterest ringing in their glare. She whimpered underneath him but said nothing, insulted from both directions by his grimy touch and transparent insults.

"Ignorance is bliss, isn't it?" said the stranger — but not to him, nor to her — as he buried his face in her fragrant hair and his hips into hers and himself into her... But no relief came, nor satisfaction, and it felt like no matter how close he got to her, couldn't be further away.

He battered and battered and broke through, with great delight at just the effort, and he made tremors rise then relent in her tense legs. Her high heels tapped against the floor in a trembling rhythm that undercut her plaintive moans until he stopped, and settled inside her, and laughed against her shoulder in a harsh exhale. He taunted her over how she sounded, how she felt, how he felt in her.

The more she withdrew, the more aggressively he followed, always fighting her and pulling the fight out of her in honeydew dollops that had nowhere left to go but to seep and stain his nice trousers. Her shoulders went up in a useless attempt to hide, but he squeezed her wrists in warning and bit her shoulder, the nape of her neck, anywhere he could reach that would punish her until she learned to stay still.

"Oooh yesss, that's it... I hate you so much." he laughed in manic joy, eyes falling closed against her throat.

The hand that held her hip squeezed her closer, pressing her so desperately against him like he was trying to crawl up inside and never leave. She whined in pain, muffled by her arms and the table. The stranger cooed against her ear and teased against her hips, turned her inside out and back together, discordant with her mewls and wails as he clung to her and she unconsciously to him the more his galloping pace opened her up and brought her out to meet him.

He wasn't so much pleasing himself as punishing her, and only interrupted his focus to laugh or hiss at some new-discovered throbbing, a frisson to rub against, a frothy surrender that he worked hard to push through until she took it again.

"I'm gonna kill you," he snarled down at her. "I swear I'm gonna kill you..."

No amount of resistance could carry her through his punishing thrusts, and no surrender was enough, and it all went on and on until the threads holding her up started to unravel, leaving her a blushing rough and bloody shade that the stranger could claim as an extension of himself. He rubbed away the parts that weren't base and grimed up what was left. Only thoughtless sounds came out of her now as she struggled to fit him, and fit into him.

The stranger heaved hotly with the effort of holding still, feeling over and through her deliberately and seeking still more, pressing his body down to suppress her new, aching, wet shivers.

With a pain melting through her surrender, down, down into pleasure, she tried to plead with him and she moaned his name, his real name, but after the first flush of recognition he stopped caring because he knew he wouldn't remember it anyway and —

Wait, why wouldn't he remember it?

Eyes shot open only to be greeted by the cement ceiling of his cell. The Soldier sighed and turned his head, looking at the corner where the bulbous little camera was. He looked to the door and saw the parting screen still closed shut — he was awake too early. With a groan, he turned over in his cot and pressed the cold metal hand where he ached.

On their third session, after the guardsmen left, he stepped into the room to find a collection of strange equipment and wires on the table, and a mix of subtle scents coming from two wooden containers. She sat in her chair, waiting for him with a smile, her sleek legs crossed together tightly. She wasn't wearing her lab coat anymore.

"Good morning." she said as they closed the door. "Come on in, sit down. None of this stuff is going to hurt you, I promise."

Reluctantly, he obeyed, his boots sounding slow and heavy through the room as he made his way toward her. He let himself fall in the seat and rested his hands on his tense thighs.

"It's just a GSR monitor. I'll only strap these around your fingers, you won't feel a thing." She demonstrated by wrapping one around her finger, wiggling, holding it up for his doubtful eyes. He had no choice anyway, so he rested his right arm on the table. She took his hand and opened the palm up, holding it gently while her other hand went to a little tube and scooped up a salty-smelling goo.

"For conductivity." she explained as she rubbed it just barely in his tough skin. "Be grateful it's not an EEG, otherwise I'd have to rub this stuff into your scalp. You'd look like a punk that got lost in the rain." she laughed, but it died quickly as the Soldier frowned and shifted in his seat.

Then she took two of the straps and wrapped one around his index, another around his middle finger, and turned his palm back down. She clicked the machine on and it beeped in confirmation, beginning a reading of his skin and what was going on underneath.

In plain terms it was a rudimentary lie detector, meant to scan for stress and some primitive emotions. Maybe he knew that or he didn't, but she could tell she had to work him into it, calm him down before she could get an accurate reading of what moved him.

"Do you know what time it is?"

"You have a watch." he grunted, looking at the worn leather strap around her wrist.

"Yes, but do you know?" she smiled.

"0803 hours."

"Yes. Do you know where we are?"

"Headquarters Alpha 3."

"Good. Do you know what day of the week it is?"

"No."

"Did you sleep last night?"

"Yes."

"Did you have any dreams?"

"No." he said with a sardonic smile. The line on the monitor moved ever-so-slightly, but it could just be a reaction of their tiff about it the other day. Or, he was lying to her again.

They spent the rest of their session with him strapped up to it while she made use of a couple of boxes and the little things inside. With eyes closed, he had to guess what she placed between his fingers: a piece of velvet, silk, a pocket watch, a cufflink, a snow globe.

The edge that separated the Asset from whoever he was before was smudged only so slightly, by necessity, the way it was with all the other soldiers in the program — they could still talk, after all, and read and write, and still employ the complexities of hand-to-hand and armed combat, all things they learned in a past life and used now for Hydra's ends. What made her soldier the best was how sharp that edge was, how steady — until it wasn't.

He retained good coordination, if his finely drawn clock was anything to go by, a steadiness that an unbalanced brain would have found difficult. They had tried, with past soldiers, to split the two brain hemispheres physically, severing the membrane that bridged between them in an effort to isolate the old soldier from the new.

The right hemisphere housed contextual perception and feeling, while the left was honed and focused and precise. They even grew to slightly different sizes, in parts, even though the skull that covers them is evenly shaped. It remained in mainstream medicine a mystery, one that Hydra explored with relish.

But all that resulted from their experimental surgeries were monstrous malfunctions. As it turned out, the left hemisphere dominated most of the body even when separated, and Hydra's soldiers were left imprisoned in the right brain, at best controlling one arm and some eyesight.

Removing the whole left hemisphere also didn't yield any improvements, even after recalibrating what remained. There were even more extreme experiments suggested, but they were deemed too damaging to put the soldiers through, too harmful for staff morale, and too uncertain in their results.

It was clear that a successful subject had to keep all his faculties, all the useful memories in whatever form, while imposing the dominance of the right hemisphere over the left. In a way, the Soldier had been there all along, growing with the unwitting owner of that body, learning, judging for himself and reaching, inevitably, different conclusions.

There always was something slightly more sinister in the right hemisphere, which only emerged when it was freed from the left, or when the left was in a dream state and its control dropped. So it was clear which side Hydra drew its soldiers from, when it freed that part of them with their infernal brain-machines.

The wavering of that edge also explained why her Soldier had such excellent memory, remembering even obscure European countries well, but also their capitals, which Hydra never saw fit to teach him. And as she went through more little things that stood out against the strictures of their base and his missions, it emerged that, though steady, the line that separated her Soldier from someone else was kept at his convenience.

The man underneath was generously lending his memories of what fancy little cufflinks and snow globes felt like, just so the Soldier who had never seen them before could give the right answers. But what she needed to figure out was how much of the control was the Soldier's intention, and how much was unconscious reflex. If the man aimed to sabotage his missions, would the Soldier even know? Worse, if he wasn't aware of anyone else sharing his brain, could he really control him?

Would he want to?

For Hydra, her mission was simple: root out the part that dissents, make it submit. They were too focused on efficiency to know what they were truly asking for. They had no idea how bad it could get, or how good...

"That's enough for now. You can open your eyes while I get the next batch, we're almost done. This last bit is just some food tests."

"As long as it's not from the mess hall."

She was halfway to the sink, a small wooden crate in her hands, when she started laughing. "I promise it's not. So it's true what they say? Way to a man's heart..."

"Is through his rib cage."

Her laughter rang through again, but he kept his eyes straight ahead, focusing on the sound of her running her hands under the water, arranging things on a plate, and wiping her hands dry on the threadbare cloth that hung there.

"Close your eyes now." she spoke as she stepped closer from behind. The plate clinked as it met the metallic table, right by his hand, and he smelled and felt the heat of her as she stood right in front of him.

"I'll give you some things to taste, and you just tell me what they are. And they're all pretty soft. Alright? First one. Open..."

Something was nagging him from the back of his brain again, jeering at him for the childish position he was in, but he couldn't think of anything to feel ashamed over.

"Strawberry."

"Good. Now, swallow and... again..."

"Grapes."

"That's right. This next one is a bit, well... Just open and tell me."

He bit into a soft and shapeless thing that tasted like, if anything, a green paste. "I don't know what this is."

"Avocado. Maybe you've never had it before. Better make a wish, then."

"What?"

"Never mind. Open for me again..."

"Mint?"

"Yes, that's a mint leaf. It's perfectly safe, you can swallow. Now, this one will come in a spoon, so open wide." She let the cloying thing slip on his tongue and the taste spread in his mouth in a way that was familiar but unusual.

"Tastes like... roses."

"Yes, that's rose petal jam. If the Director only knew what I spent my funding on, spoiling you..." she giggled, but it died quickly as he kept frightfully still and his jaw tensed. From the corner of her eye she saw the GSR give an angry twitch.

"Right, one more and we're done. Open, and tell m—"

"Plums."

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shoutogepi · 5 years ago

Text

You Want Me to Call You Baby Girl?

Todoroki Shouto

word count : 10k oopsies

[ ✘ (nsfw!) ]

themes : DD/BG kink, minimal booty spanking & temp play, man-handling ahaha

bio : Shouto accidentally discovers his girlfriend is much kinkier than he suspected… and he intends to test out his new knowledge as soon as possible.

author’s note : o BOY THIS IS A SPICY FIRST FIC. whew i promise im not usually this nasty actually who am i kidding yes i am :))) also side note, all characters are aged up to year 3 in this (so everyone is 18+!!)

also available on AO3 here~

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅈our duffel bag buzzes loudly, taking your attention away from the sparring match you and Ochaco were currently engaging in.

“One sec, Ochacho-chan,” you request hastily, putting your hands up in apology and bowing.

“Sure thing Y/N,” she smiles, “I need to take a break anyway!”

You squat next to your bag, hands fishing blindly through the compartment for your vibrating phone.

Shouto ♥︎ flashes across your screen, a photo of the handsome boy slurping soba lighting up the background.

“Shouto,” you pick up, huffing after your challenging training session.

“Y/N,” he replies, his suave voice instantly bringing a minute flush to your cheeks. “Where are you right now?”

“Ahhh I’m at the training center with Ochacho-chan,” you answer, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “We were working on our hand to hand combat!”

“Hmm,” he purses his lips in frustration. “I left my Search and Rescue textbook in your room yesterday. Any chance I could come by and grab your key?”

Your foot absentmindedly plays with the strap of your duffel bag, wandering aimlessly as you clutch the cellphone to your ear. “My door should actually be unlocked,” you chime,” so no need to come all the way over here!”

Shouto frowns. “You leave your door unlocked?” he pauses, “Knowing we have some questionable… characters living in the same building?” His mind is immediately on Mineta and Kaminari, the two perverts of the class.

Your laugh smoothes over his distaste, instantly bringing a small smile to his lips.

“I know you forget your things in my room so you have an excuse to see me,” you say playfully, your bottom lip captured by your teeth as you bashfully rock on the balls of your feet.

A slight blush covers Shouto’s cheeks, which he is glad you’re not there to see. “Hmm, it seems I’ve been figured out. I guess I’ll stop doing that then,” he teases, prodding you for a reaction.

“N-No, that’s okay,” you rush out, adding a hesitant laugh. “I’ll… I would take any excuse to see you,” you murmur, voice growing quieter.

Shouto’s heart flutters, momentarily at a loss for words.

“Um, anyway, my door is unlocked so just go on in. I should probably get back to Ochaco now,” you trail off awkwardly.

“Can I buy you dinner tonight?” It slips out before Shouto can even think.

A beat passes, and Shouto licks his lips in anticipation.

“I would really like that, Shouto,” you chuckle into the phone. “I’ll see you later then?”

“Of course. See you tonight,” Shouto smiles, taking the phone away from his ear and pressing the red button on his screen. He stands in front of your door for a moment, gazing at your contact picture. God, you were so cute. How he had managed to score you, he had no clue.

He’d been in his room when he called you, but walked over to your floor and dorm room as the conversation ensued. Just as you had said, when his hand touches the door handle, it gives way and he steps into your room.

Closing the door behind him, he breathes in and closes his eyes, savoring the sweet and clean smell of you that lingered on your belongings. After a moment, he walks over to your desk, his textbook in sight, but buried underneath an open notebook with your messy notes scrawled across half the page. Your laptop rests to the left of the notebook, open and upright, but the screen is black and the charger light is green, indicating the battery is full.

Shouto’s fingers automatically reach for the cord, unplugging the charger as it was best to do so for your laptop’s battery in the long run.The screen automatically lights up, a black browser popping up and displaying a video.Shouto tries to avert his eyes before he could read the screen, but he had already read the video title the instant it popped up.His face instantly bursts into a cherry-red blush, and he chokes as his throat suddenly dries, his hand shooting up to cover his mouth in shock.

You Want Me to Call You Baby Girl? Beg for Daddy, Maybe I’ll Be Nice.

Shouto’s wide eyes scan the title again, and then a third, and a fourth time to make sure he had read it correctly. You had left your door unlocked, your laptop open, and a porn website out on display?

Had you… meant for him to see this?

He shakes his head in disbelief. There was no way that his innocent and sweet girlfriend had planned this out… which meant that you would probably be mortified if you knew he had found this.

Shouto stands frozen at your desk, unsure of what to do. The two of you were no strangers to sex. You had been dating for almost seven months now, and you had been intimate together a handful of times.

But never like this… Daddy? Baby girl? Begging?

Shouto’s mind suddenly wanders somewhere very indecent, and he gulps as he shakes his head. Sure, everybody has fantasies and turn-ons… this wasn’t that far-fetched.

But that’s why he is so torn. He could leave now and pretend he had never seen this… or he could sit down and watch this video, and do to you whatever this video entailed.

Unable to make up his mind, he hastily sits in your desk chair, swiveling the back around and scooting in to sit properly in front of the laptop. This was dangerous territory.

Well… watching the video couldn’t possibly hurt, could it?

Biting his lip, his long fingers reach toward the trackpad. His fingertips hover over the key hesitantly, before he shoots up abruptly from the chair and delves his fingers in his two-tone hair.

Pacing now, he lunges across the room and bolts the door. Walking in a circle, his arms cross on top of his broad chest. Why was he second guessing himself? He had been so sure just a second ago… That’s right, he had made up his mind!

Shouto rushes over to the chair again, eagerly hopping into it. Before he could question himself again, he grabs the headphones plugged into your computer and presses play, his heart thumping against his rib cage. His knee bouncing, palms clammy, the video begins to play.

The screen remains black, but shuffling is heard through the headphones. Suddenly, a sultry male voice speaks.

“Hmmm, you’re back for more so soon, kitten?”

A fresh blush immediately bloomed on his cheeks, his adam’s apple bobbing. Hands quivering, he remains still, questioning if he should be here or not. Before he can think further, the voice starts again.

“You know it’s very naughty of you to beg for me like this, baby.” A sweaty hand lands on Shouto’s knee, his lips wavering uneasily as his fingers grab on, knuckles turning white. The voice chuckles darkly, purring almost. “What’s that, you need me to touch you? Hmm, like this? Do you like when I touch your tits like this baby girl? You’re such a naughty little thing, not wearing a bra like this. Mmm, I can’t help but touch your aching body, princess.”

Shouto sits back roughly, cheeks still bright red as he processes the man’s words. Is this… what turned you on? Could this be… what you touched yourself to? Did you… did you close your eyes and think of him when you did? His cock jumps in response, a tent rising in his pants. Fuck, this was hot.

“Did you miss me baby girl? Did you touch yourself while Daddy was gone? You know that’s against the rules.” Shouto’s mouth feels as dry as a desert, a shaky breath tumbling out of his parted lips. Holy shit, the image of you touching yourself to this makes him sweat. Would you be willing to call him that? Daddy?

“Oh baby, look at you. What a mess you’re making on our sheets… You’re dripping wet, mmmm, look at your slick, tight, little pussy.” Shouto’s eyelids fall as he imagines your hot, sweet cunt, remembering the taste of you and the way you whimper as his tongue disappears into your heat. His hand trembles, hesitantly jerking toward the tent in his pants.

“Fucking shit,” he groans, hunching over the desk as his hand rests gently on his bulge, fingertips brushing back and forth gently.

Is this how you wanted him to talk to you? You wanted him to talk dirty to you and call you these sweet names?

The voice purrs lowly, a sigh escaping the man. “You want my fingers in you baby girl? You want me to fuck you with my fingers huh? Tell me what you want, baby. Be a good girl and beg for me.”

Shouto gasps as his body shudders. Jesus, this was some kinky stuff. But… he liked it. Very much, apparently, according to his prominent erection.

“That’s very rude of you, baby girl, to address me incorrectly.”

A smirk crosses his lips as he could definitely imagine you acting like a little brat underneath him, just to irk him. You loved to push his buttons all the time, even when you weren’t fucking.

“What was that kitten? I didn’t hear you. What’s my name again?”

His eyes closed, a quiet moan falling from his lips. He could just picture you in front of him, gazing up at him with those wide and innocent eyes… calling him Daddy. Imagining that word rolling off your sweet tongue jerks him out of the chair, pausing the video.

A harsh sigh heaves from his chest, hands splayed on the desk as he pants, hunched over your laptop. Watching this video, invading your privacy… it made him feel grimy, but the feeling in his pants was just as intense.

He stands still for a moment, processing all of this, before he rewinds the video back to the beginning and plugs your laptop charger back in. After making the computer go back to sleep, he pushes himself off the desk, making sure to grab the textbook he came for. With a last glance at your laptop, he exits your room, book strategically placed on his abdomen, hurriedly returning to his room to conduct further research and take care of his… issue at hand.

~~~

You blow away the stray hair tickling your nose, diligently holding the iron away from your face. The fresh curl falls as you release the clasp, and you smear away a mascara smudge under your eyebrow, leaning into the mirror. Blinking at your reflection, you let out a shaky breath.

You unplug the curling iron, your other hand running through the curls to smoothen the neat spirals. Fixing your top, you turn away from the vanity, standing up.

Swinging your small purse off the back of the chair, you grab your jacket and shrug it on.

A knock on your door grabs your attention, and an eager smile immediately blossoms on your lips. You quickly drag your perfume rollerball across your wrists and dab it along your neck, tucking the vial into your purse and opening the door.

Your boyfriend stands in the doorway, thumb tucked in the pocket of his jeans, the other hand fixing his hair. The sherpa-lined denim jacket laid perfectly against his broad shoulders, gray t-shirt snug against his muscular chest, finishing off with black jeans tucked into his dark brown chelsea boots. His hand falls from his hair to snake around your waist, gathering you to his chest. You gladly let him scoop you up, arms coming to wrap around his neck.

“Shouto,” you mumble into his neck, breathing in his strong and fresh cologne. “You look so handsome tonight.”

He pulls back his head so your eyes lock. Something unrecognized stirs within the depths of his heterochromatic gaze. His other hand floats underneath your face, thumb and forefinger catching your chin to lock you into his stare. You’re suddenly very aware of the hand that presses into your lower back, his long fingers trailing across your jacket slightly.

He responds, voice whisper-soft. “And you look absolutely delectable, baby girl.”

He allows one second to savor your stunned expression as you process the new pet name that he had addressed you by before he guides your lips to his, capturing your mouth tenderly.

Your whimper lodges from your throat as Shouto’s lips press against yours, your hand pressing the nape of his neck towards you to deepen the kiss.

His hand drops from your chin, face pulling away from yours. His half-lidded eyes admire your flushed cheeks, and the desperate look that lurks below the surface of your expression, a smirk landing on his lips. He gently pries your hands away from his neck, kissing your cheek swiftly as he laces his fingers with yours.

“Hungry?”

Oh, so he was just going to skate on by it, like it was no big deal. You clear your throat tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and nodding quickly. “S-starving.”

“Let’s go then, baby girl, the ramen place closes in an hour,” he says nonchalantly, eyes regarding you as he watches blush blossom across your cheeks. This could be fun.

You bite your bottom lip and nod, and he exhales softly through his nose at the action, concealing a groan. He tugs on your hand, steering you toward the elevators and toward your awaiting meal.

~~~

“Y/N?”

Flustered, you look up at your boyfriend, who is watching you with a quirked eyebrow.

“Sorry, what?” You ask, embarrassed to have been caught in your own thoughts.

A warm smile splits Shouto’s lips, a short laugh escaping. His eyes catch yours, genuine zeal clearly identifiable. “Do you want to watch a movie? I can look up what’s in theaters now. Or maybe we could get bingsu? My treat, baby girl. I know you love the mango one, from that place on the corner.”

“S-Shouto,” you murmur, eyes falling to rest on the cleared table in front of you. Your fingers pick at the corner of the discarded napkin nervously.

Shouto reaches out, his hand folding around yours, effectively making you look at him. “What is it baby girl? You wanna go home?”

Your legs clench together underneath the table, the building heat between your legs burning insatiably. He’d been calling you “baby girl” all night and you just couldn’t stand it anymore. You swallow, eyes averting from his to look at the hem of his t-shirt. “Y-Yes please, I don’t feel very well,” you answer honestly. You definitely wanted to get back to the dorms.

Shouto nods earnestly, getting up out of his seat and helping you out of your own. His left hand lands on your back, slipping underneath your jacket and making the warmth of his quirk known through your thin shirt. “No problem, Y/N, let's get you home.”

He calls an Uber back to the dorms even though you had originally walked, the restaurant being about a 25 minute stroll from the UA campus. He opens the car door for you and slides in after you, hands reaching out to click your seatbelt into place before securing his own. You blush again, murmuring a “thank you”, and grab his hand eagerly. Shouto smiles smally in return, his other palm smoothing over your joined hands.

As you step through the doors to the dorms, a burst of nerves blooms deep in your stomach. Shouto’s hot hand was again on your back, gently guiding you to your door.

Your head feeling light, your hand searches frantically for your keys in the depths of your purse. You had locked your room this time thanks to Shouto’s earlier admonishment.

Shouto’s lips press gently to your temple, making you jump in surprise. The corners of his mouth twitch upward at your reaction. ”Are you okay baby girl?” he breathes into your ear.

Your pussy quivers at his voice so close, his fingers spreading downward from your waist. His breath fans over your neck as your shaky fingers finally reach your keys. Your wrist trembles as you push the key into the door, and Shouto reaches over to turn the handle, pushing it open and slightly nudging you into the dark room.

The door shut behind you and the click of the lock is heard audibly in the silent room. A crack in your blinds casts a thick beam of moonlight onto the floor, illuminating your otherwise pitch black room.

A soft sigh escapes your lips as Shouto’s hands find your figure again, fingertips floating across your waist. His biceps caging you into his embrace, he presses a short kiss to your throat. “You don’t feel so good, baby girl?” His lips part and he places them against the column of your neck again, this time leaving behind a slick patch from his eager tongue.

You shake your head weakly, knowing your voice would come out broken and wavering. You feel his hands traveling around your waist, his hips brushing against your ass just barely.

“Anything I can do to help you, baby girl?” His voice is so low, and it drips with something almost ominous, swallowing up your senses. His teeth ghost over your throat, triggering a soft gasp from you. His mouth breaks into a sinister smile at your reaction.

“Y-Yes, I need your hands… on me,” you whimper, hand reaching up to anchor yourself on his bicep.

Shouto exhales against your skin, cock jerking in his jeans at your reply. His hands move slowly from your waist down your hips, fingers curling around your inner thighs, sliding up past the hem of your skirt. “Where do you want my hands, baby girl?”

Your legs tremble, and you curve your back into his chest, ass pushing against his crotch. A fresh blush litters your cheeks at the recognition of his clothed erection.

“You gotta tell me what you want, baby girl,” he murmurs huskily into your ear, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. They were so painfully close to your panties, a ragged breath escapes you.

Your mouth parts to reply but your words fail you, your body only being able to focus on breathing as steadily as possible. Oh god, you were so turned on right now.

His fingers brush against the edge of your panties, and your legs clamp together desperately. “Here? You want my hands on you right here? Use your words, kitten.”

A reticent moan leaves you, your head falling back onto his shoulder. “P-please, Shou…”

An ardent grin raises the corners of his mouth, and for the first time tonight his breath shakes as he replies. “That’s very rude of you, baby girl, to address me incorrectly.”

Your body freezes, anxiety enveloping you in an icy grip. You absolutely knew what he meant, without a shed of a doubt. Eyes wide, you rip out of his grasp, turning to look at him.

Your eyes meet and a hesitant look penetrates his intense gaze.

“You—,” you choke out, eyes darting to the open laptop on your desk. Shouto’s eyes follow yours, and a guilty expression instantly graces his handsome face. His hands out in front of him, blush reddening his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Shouto whispers, “Please let me explain. I didn’t mean to see it, but I accidentally woke up your laptop when I was grabbing my textbook and I tried not to see it but…”

You feel absolutely mortified, eyes wide and tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You cannot believe you were so stupid to have left your laptop open and on the Incognito browser! “Oh my god,” you sniffle, pure shame encompassing you.

Shouto closes the distance between you two, arms bringing your figure into his embrace. “Y/N, I'm so sorry. Please don’t be embarrassed, there’s nothing to be ashamed about.” One hand runs through your hair repeatedly, while the other presses you tightly into his chest.

You stay silent, words once again failing you. What if he was just doing this because you thought it was hot? What if he was making himself do this, even if he thought it was freaky? You bite your lip to stop it from trembling, hugging him back.

After a moment he draws your head back so your eyes lock, and that dubious emotion once again is visible deep in his two-toned stare. “I know I shouldn’t have pressed play,” he admits, tongue slipping out to run across his lips swiftly. His eyes flick to your own lips momentarily before looking deep into your eyes once again. “But the thought of you being into this,” he groans, eyelids dropping half way and fingers clutching your hair intensely,” The thought of you touching yourself to that… Just the possibility of you imagining it was me saying those nasty things to you… God, I couldn’t help myself, baby girl. You have got me so damn infatuated with you.”

His sultry eyes bore into your wide ones, melting away all your fear and hesitance. You want to say something, anything, but your lips are just paralyzed in shock. He was into this? Your cool and composed boyfriend wanted the same dirty things you did? Your pussy throbs between your legs, desire intensifying like he had poured gasoline onto the fire.

“You can say no, baby girl. Don’t be afraid to, there will be no consequences and no hard feelings on my part. I know this is a lot to ask of you,” he breathes, his magnetic gaze buttering you up. His hand stretches around your head, middle finger pushing against your jaw and thumb brushing your cheek. “But if you want to continue, I would happily oblige. All you have to do is—“

Your hands move before you can think, lacing around the back of his neck and gathering his lips to yours. The kiss is passionate but short, catching him by surprise. The fact that he is just as considerate as ever, even in this mortifying yet exhilarating situation… it turns you on even more. This man is all yours, you are all his, and you damn straight intend to show him.

You pull back, admiring the startled expression on his features. A soft, wanton moan escapes you, your eyes falling to his lips before sneaking back up to his eyes, catching his dazed stare through your thick eyelashes. “Please continue, Daddy.”

Shouto’s dick strains against his briefs, angrily awakened by your enthusiasm. A strangled noise releases from his throat, his fingers automatically gripping you harder. His eyes wide in astonishment, he blinks at you once, twice, before his entire demeanor reverts back to his predatory behavior from earlier.

“Fuck,” he groans, smashing your lips against his. The kiss is hot and wet, his tongue immediately pushing past your lips and thrusting into your mouth. Tongue rolling over yours, his hands roughly touch your aching body. His hands fumble to tear away your jacket, your purse making a loud noise as the metal chain on the strap hits the ground.

His right hand cups your breast, squeezing diligently as his thumb rolls over the center of your bra, right over your nipple. His other hand grabs your ass cheek, gathering you closer to his body as his tongue dances with yours.

Your hands feverishly run along his body. Fist full of his hair, your other hand desperately running along his muscular shoulder, thumb dipping down to press into his collarbone.

Your mouths pull away, a string of saliva connecting your restless tongues as you both gasp for air. Your gaze meets his as you both try to catch your breath, desire clear as day in his eyes.

“Holy shit,” he mumbles on ragged breath, the fingers from the hand on your ass straining toward your panties. They successfully push them aside, the tips of his middle and ring fingers connecting with your slick hole.

Your body shakes uncontrollably at his caress, a pitiful whimper leaving your lips as you throw your head back.

Shouto pushes your body backwards, scooping you up and throwing you onto the bed. Your back hits the comforter and he’s instantly on top of you, fingers sliding back and forth easily along your slit.

“You’re wet as fuck baby girl,” he accuses, fingertips prodding your hole just barely enough to get a reaction from you. “Have you been this wet all night? Pressing your legs together underneath the dinner table and in the Uber? Hmmm, you like when I call you baby girl, don’t you?”

Your leg curls around his, trembling in anticipation. “Yes, Daddy, I love it so much,” your voice is hoarse from being breathless, and Shouto’s cock swells at your tone.

“You’re such a good girl, Y/N,” he whispers into your neck, pausing to place more hot, open-mouthed kisses along your thumping pulse. “I think you deserve a reward for being so cooperative, baby girl.” His fingers push into your tender core, neatly trimmed fingernails rubbing along the pulsating, velvety walls.

You’re positively quaking underneath him, loud and unabashed moans meeting his quiet pants. His fingers feel so good inside of you, the way he curls them upward slightly to massage that special spot he always manages to find. “Oh, Daddy,” you whine, legs opening wider to give him more access.

“God, look at you,” he taunts, voracious eyes gauging your desperate body thrashing under his. “You’re such a nasty girl, you love when I touch you like this, don’t you?”

It’s impossible to breathe, so you just nod pathetically, your nails cutting little crescent indents into the skin on the bicep he’s propping himself up with. The nod seems like just enough to satisfy him as he smirks, tongue forcing itself into your mouth again and dominating yours.

His fingers slide deeper inside of you with ease, and he curves his fingers rigidly, assaulting your pussy without mercy. “Christ, look at you. You’re making such a mess baby girl.”

Your hand grips the duvet, fingers frantically clenching the material. Your spine arches off the mattress, breasts pressing up against his chest. “Please, Daddy, I need more! Please!” you beg, your mind hazed with lust.

Shouto sighs ruggedly, his hair tickling the side of your face as his body rocks gently to the force of his fingers in your tight cunt. He leaves a short kiss on your cheek before his teeth pinch the tip of your ear, his hot breath hitting your cartilage. “I love when you beg for me, baby girl. How can I resist when you ask so kindly?”

His mouth leaves your ear, body slithering south so his face is in front of your sleek, hot pussy. His fingers leave your core, and the noise of discontent that leaves you is cut short immediately as his tongue thrusts into you. His tongue pushes in and out of you quickly, the fingers that were in you a moment ago rubbing your clit with fervor.

Your hand slaps over your mouth as you let out a stifled cry, eyes scrunching closed at the feeling Shouto was giving you. No matter how good he was making you feel, you would die of embarrassment if your classmates heard you in such a state.

“Baby girl,” Shouto pants as his mouth comes away from your cunt, his chin shining with your slick. His fingers plunge back into you, making it hard for you to look at him straight. “Do you like it when I eat you out? You like my tongue on your pussy, baby girl?” he asks, eyes glittering mischievously. His tongue wraps around your clit, pulling it into his mouth and ravishing the nerve in circles.

Your back flies off the bed once again, a hand clutching his hair for dear life. You take your hand off your mouth for a moment to reply, but your voice dies in your throat as his fingers ram into you harshly. A muffled squeal escapes you, and a dark chuckle replies from the man between your legs.

“I think I’m gonna cum,” you warn, your voice unsteady. The pressure building between your legs becoming undeniable, your thighs shake slightly around Shouto’s head.

Shouto’s tongue leaves your clit, lips kissing the bundle of nerves gently. “You wanna cum, baby girl? So soon? You must be desperate, huh?”

“Oh god, Daddy,” you whine, glancing down to catch his intense gaze. “You make me feel so good, I can’t help it. Please, please let me cum.”

He smirks against your hot cunt, fingers never tiring. “You’re such a good girl, I don’t even have to tell you to beg,” he sighs, eyes closing as he savors your taste. “God, you’re so sweet and wet. Now be a good girl and cum all over my face.”

His mouth sucks your clit back in, tongue smoothing over the nerve back and forth with renewed speed. His wrist finds a new angle, allowing his fingertips to assault your cunt even deeper than before.

Your body sweats feverishly against his hot embrace, and you cry out in surprise when his right hand slips under your shirt and then under your bra. The icy temperature awakens goosebumps on your skin and your nipple hardens quickly, rolling the pert bud between his thumb and forefinger. The novel sensation pushes your body over the edge, your cunt clamping down on his fingers harshly. Your hand claps over your mouth just in time as you let out a scream, your orgasm raking through your body. Your hips dig into the mattress, your pussy clenching and throbbing and leaking your cum all over Shouto’s fingers and his mouth.

Shouto’s fingers slow, but his tongue continues to lick eagerly at your clit, lapping up the fresh essence that leaks out of your slit. His fingertips brush over your sweet spot a few more times before he takes his fingers out of your hole, his tongue taking their place and tracing circles inside of you. He trails his tongue from the bottom of your slit to the top, circling the tip around your clit one last time before he pulls away, kissing your thighs with his slick lips.

Your body shivers as the tide of ecstasy recedes, eyes opening to see Shouto looking down at you intensely, his fingers in his mouth as he sucks your cum off his digits. “You’re such a good girl, Y/N,” his lips touch yours tenderly, almost softly. His fingers curl around the back of your neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. His tongue shyly licks your bottom lip, and your mouth gladly grants him entrance. Your taste lingers on his tongue, but it’s pleasant as his own tongue caresses yours gently. Your fingers curl under his jacket, pulling on the trim with pleading hands. Shouto’s hands leave you for a moment as he rips it off, flinging it onto the floor. He also yanks his t-shirt over his head, discarding it as he had the jacket. Your hands eagerly land on his broad, muscular chest, savoring his delicious build. Your lips meet his again and your tongue meekly pushes into his mouth, taking him by surprise. He moans into your lips, allowing your tongue to push his into moving in sync.

Shouto shuffles backwards so he sits between your legs, his hands gripping your waist and the back of your neck again, pulling you to sit upright with him as your lips continue to push against each other.

His hand grabs the hem of your shirt, lifting it up swiftly. Your lips break away from his for just a second as your shirt leaves you, but as soon your torso is exposed his hot lips are back on yours. This time, he takes the lead, easily dominating you as he shoves his tongue roughly between your lips. You gasp, only making his quest easier than before as you allow him further access. His hands clutch onto your waist, pulling your hips toward his. Your mouths part, shared shaky breath leaving the both of you. You watch as his eyes open slowly, gaze trained on your face before trailing down, regarding your uncovered chest and the lacy bralette.

“This,” he mumbles as his lips touch yours again, on hand settling on your hip while the other pinches at the clasp of the bralette,” has got to go.” The lacy material sags as the clasp opens, and his calloused fingers brush away the straps on your shoulders. He sweeps the discarded material off the edge of the bed, focus directing to your bare chest instead. His hand cups one of your breasts softly, lips gliding against yours as he groans. “Why are you so fucking irresistible?” He ducks his head so his mouth captures your nipple gracefully, licking and skimming his teeth along it teasingly.

You arch into his touch, throwing your arms around his shoulders. Your hands grab onto his skin as a destitute mewl floats out from your lips. “Shou,” you huff, wanting to catch his determined gaze once more.

His eyes cast upward toward yours impishly, a smile curling his lips as they hold onto your pert nipple. His tongue runs over the hard bud between his teeth, making you cry out softly. “What did you call me, baby girl?” His hand claps swiftly against your ass cheek, your body jolting against his as you let out a shaky moan.

“I, I’m sorry Daddy,” you whisper, your body dismayed as he releases your breast, head returning to your eye level. His gaze analyzes yours, watching your expression perceptively. You had responded positively to the spank. “Can I…”

“What was that, baby girl? Spit it out,” he commands, his other hand clashing against your other cheek, which jiggles invitingly, advertising the fresh red mark he had just inflicted.

“Can I p-please suck your cock, Daddy?” you finally manage to choke out, an intense blush infiltrating your cheeks. Shouto’s eyebrows raise slightly in surprise at your request, but a smirk quickly rises to his lips.

“You wanna suck my dick, baby?” his lips brush underneath your jaw as he leans in, sucking the skin there harshly and lapping over it with his tongue afterwards. “God, you’re such a fucking slut for me.” His fingers graze your soft folds again, making you buck your hips against him clumsily. He gazes at his digits, watching the trail of arousal string out as he stretches his fingers apart. “You really are my good baby girl,” he remarks, eyes landing back on your pleading expression. “Alright, go ahead. Show me what your sweet little mouth can do.”

Your hips shuffle forward, placing yourself on his lap as your hands splay down his muscular back. He hums mirthfully as you trace your hands down his torso, your lips finding solace on his trapezius. You roll your hips against his slowly, savoring how his hips jut up against yours and the way his head falls back at the action.

Eagerly, you shuffle to the edge of the bed, Shouto’s body following you on his own accord. Your head tucks down, yout tongue tracing a trail down his pec and swooping around his nipple slightly. A forced cough erupts from the back of his throat at the action, his skin more sensitive than he likes to admit. His hand combs through your hair, grabbing onto it as you place more kisses down his abs, stopping at the top of his jeans. You get off of him, sliding off the bed gracefully as your knees hit the floor in one languid action.

Shouto stands, hands undoing the button on his jeans hurriedly and he pushes the denim down his thighs halfway. His hot gaze lingers on you as you tentatively move forward, lips meeting his clothed cock in an innocent kiss, eyes glancing up to capture his. A hot blush rushes across his cheeks, and he’s glad you look away, focusing your attention back to his dick. Your hand meets the prominent outline of his cock, rubbing your fingertips along the shaft as you place an open-mouthed kiss on the head, effectively wetting his briefs. He swallows thickly, watching as you shyly tug the elastic band over his hips.

His cock springs free, bouncing out to touch your cheek impatiently. You smile at the sight of his dick so ready for you. His member stands thick and long, totally upright with veins popping out and running the length of his dick, the head swollen and red with just a drop of precum sitting pearled and ready. Restlessly, you wrap your hand around his cock, lips parting and tongue dragging along the tip of him, savoring the salty, musty taste.

Shouto has a wicked grin on his lips as he watches you from above, enjoying the sensation of his cock finally being acknowledged. “Oh, baby girl, you know I don’t like to be teased. Why don—”

You cut him off, mouth opening and taking in half his dick, tongue swirling on the underside carefully. Shouto’s smirk effectively is wiped off his face as you moan, the vibration locking his legs up as he shakes slightly, shocked at your sudden actions. Quickly while you have the upper hand, you bob backwards and then toward his body again, even more of his hard cock disappearing into your hot, wet mouth. He gasps for breath, mouth open and eyes wide as he watches his dick penetrate your lips. Your sinful tongue snaking around his shaft, a quiet “fuck” slips out of him as the head of his cock hits the back of your throat. You moan at his sheer size, the action constricting your throat around him and his hips jolt into you. His cock slams even deeper into your throat and you repress the urge to throw up, gagging harshly and eyes watering as his gaze locks with yours. You lean back and gasp for air, coughing shakily.

Shouto bends down, hand moving your hair to the side as his expression shifts toward concern. “Are you okay baby girl? Sorry, that was a little rough for you,” he mumbles regretfully, hand rubbing your back.

You look back up at him and his breath stills as your gaze catches his. “Oh, Daddy, I love choking on your cock,” you admit, ignoring the tears stinging the corners of your vision. Your hand grabs his slick cock once again, taking him into your mouth and starting to bob on his length at a fast pace.

Shouto’s hand flies up to cover his mouth, his brow scrunched in a mix of pleasure and awe, watching your eager actions lustfully. Holy shit, you were so fucking hot to him.

You continue to nod along on his length, savoring the way his eyes flutter as his tip reaches the back of your throat each time. His hand clutches your hair tightly, moving along complacently as you set the pace. Your other hand floats up to fondle his balls, massaging them in your palm gently as your other hand digs your nails into his thigh.

Your mouth leaves his cock with a quiet pop, a thick string of saliva trailing between your parted lips and the head of his dick. You only mean to take a quick break to gasp for breath before you continue, but Shouto has other plans.

He pounces on you, rough hands cupping your ass and throwing you up into his arms so your center slaps against his abs. Your breath is ragged, chest shaking with sheer excitement. Shouto seems just as frantic, his wet, hard dick caressing your ass cheek as he places your back against the comforter, your head gently touching the pillow. He’s panting, warm breath rolling over your cheek as his two-toned eyes pierce your own. His body hovers over yours, long locks of red and white grazing your face. Your body jumps slightly at the feeling of his tip meeting your slick entrance, rubbing between your folds gently.

Your stomach momentarily stops roiling with anticipation as butterflies suddenly appear there instead, Shouto nudging his nose softly against yours. “You ready?” he whispers, cerulean and gray orbs peering deep into your eyes, searching, probing, for even the slightest wisp of doubt.

Your hand lifts and cups his jaw, pressing your lips to his sweetly for a moment. An unspoken thankfulness for his considerate gesture transferring from you to him. Your eyes open again, all tenderness gone. “I’ve been ready for you all night, Daddy.”

A wicked grin splits his lips, eyes glinting down at you as his hips rut forward, shoving his entire length into you in one powerful thrust. A mix between a wheeze and a shout of pleasure releases from you. The sensation of your pussy stretching to accommodate his thick cock, the feeling of him pushing your cervix aside to nestle deeply inside of you, caressing your most secret and hidden spot— it makes your eyes roll back and your lips fall open, even though no noise escapes.

Shouto is still as a statue above you, expression almost pained as he tries not to even breathe. You had never been this reactive to him before, your drenched pussy gripping his cock so tightly stars briefly danced underneath his eyelids. And yet, even with how tightly your core held him, it had been so gloriously easy to just slide his dick right into your awaiting trove, your essence leaking out from your hole to dampen the sheets.

“Fuck, Daddy,” you lament, your body shaking in bliss at his cock filling you so perfectly. Your whine seems to snap Shouto out of whatever cosmic trance he was in, his hips automatically pulling away only to snap back into you, a wet smack bouncing off the walls. “Shit,” he murmurs, repeating the action. His eyes jump from your pussy swallowing up his dick, to your face of pure bliss. Your jaw falling wide open, your eyelids clamped shut tightly, eyebrows drawn upwards in the middle of your forehead as you obediently take his cock. “You’re so fucking tight baby girl,” he groans, glancing down again to watch his dick sink into your scorching, slippery core.

It’s so hard for you to find your breath. Every time Shouto’s hips hit yours you forget everything else, including how to breathe it seems. You close your mouth, teeth pinching your bottom lip and eyes prying open to catch his sizzling gaze. He stares you down, your exchange intense as he dominates you, plunging his thick cock into you again. The feeling makes your eyes flutter, a fresh blush lacing your cheeks as you look at him.

Shouto’s lips are in a self-assured smirk, eyebrows scrunched as he leans down onto you, carelessly rubbing his tip into your g-spot. Your pussy throbs and you fight back a sob of pleasure, your eyes still wet from choking on his dick minutes before. “Daddy,” you wail as he positions himself closer to you, arm curling tenderly around your waist to arch your back, pushing your hard nipples up against his strong chest. His hips dig into yours, grinding the head of his dick against your spot. Both your body and your walls shiver at the action, fingers curling into the covers hysterically.

“What do you want, baby girl?” he whispers, voice low and more gravely than you had imagined possible.

You lick your lips urgently, throwing a short look to his dick retreating from your aching slit before catching his sinful gaze again. “Please Daddy, I want you to fuck me,” your hair fanned around your pretty face, your cheeks bright red, desperation filling your wide eyes. Your needy look makes Shouto groan, his heart slamming against his rib cage. God, it was so hard for him to not give in… but he really wanted to hear you beg.

His hips glide into yours slowly, pulling out and pushing back in at a measured, hesitant tempo. Even just these careful thrusts has you covering your mouth, head tossed back in ecstasy. His hips carefully rake against yours a few more times before he leans in close. His lips ghosting over the hammering pulse in your throat. “Like this, baby girl?” His body trembles as he restrains himself, strung out like a ticking bomb as he continues his calculated ministrations.

You grab the back of his neck, lacing your fingers in the short hair and pulling harshly. He lets out a small moan, hips stuttering as he almost strays from his plan.

You wiggle your hips flush against his, opening your legs wider and securing them around his waist. “Daddy, I love your dick so much,” you whisper onto his neck, feeling his hands tremor just a bit before you smile against his skin. “Please fuck me so hard I can’t walk tomorrow.”

Shouto sighs, pulling almost all the way out before shoving his whole cock back into you. Your eyes roll backwards in your skull and before you can even cry out, he does it again… and again, and again. His pace is so fast and hard you can’t keep up. His hips snapping harshly against yours, he fucks you like his life depends on it. His hand is turning the flesh on your waist white as he slams your hips onto his, strangled gasps falling out of his mouth. Your lips fall apart but you can’t muster any words, hell, you can’t even produce a single thought. “Fuck yes, Y/N,” he hisses, balls deep in your dripping core. “Your cunt is so wet for Daddy— you love being fucked like this, don't you, baby girl?”

All you can do is nod weakly, overwhelmed by the pressure building between your legs. You whimper, nails digging into Shouto’s prominent back muscles as your toes curl in bliss. He laughs crudely at your frazzled state, sounding more like a snarl as he continues the delicious onslaught on your g-spot.

“What was that, baby girl?” he teases short-windedly, your cunt trembling around his thick member. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

You try your best to clear your throat, but only a dissolute sob comes out. Shouto’s hand grabs your chin sharply, and your eyes fly open as his rapid pants fan your cheek. You summon some unknown force within you and push the words— any words you can think of— out of your mouth. “Your h-huge dick makes me — nnngh!— m-makes my slutty cunt feel so fucking good Daddy!” you cry, celebrating in the way your testimony summons a hot pink flush to your boyfriend’s cheeks. He continues to pound into you, his efforts revitalized. The reaction only eggs you on as your lips part on their own again. Your eyes wide as this unknown, brazen side of you surfaces,” I want you to fuck me so hard, please abuse my pussy Daddy, it’s all yours.”

Shouto’s eyes roll back at your plea, and he wonders for a split second why you’d never shown him this side of you before. He absolutely loves it. He pulls out of you for a moment and you wail at the loss of his hot, thick length. Just as fast as he left, he’s flipping you over, grabbing your hips, and raising them into the air. You barely even realize you’re on your knees before you register his cock crashing harshly into your tender core, a scream ripping through you and luckily being swallowed into your pillow. A loud clap! sounds and your ass stings, making you arch into his chilled palm. “Oh, baby girl. You’re such a fucking slut for me,” he chuckles darkly, watching your ass bounce against his pelvis and savoring the fresh pink mark. Goddamn, he never knew hitting you like this would turn him on. One of his hands reaches out and grabs your ankle, shifting the angle of your hips slightly and rocking your body back to meet his with every thrust. The other hand squishes your ass cheek, hot fingers digging into your supple skin.

“Fuck,” you huff, face retreating from the pillow to finally gasp a breath of fresh air in. “Holy fuck!” you exclaim as Shouto continues to drill his dick into you. The sheer force of him pushing so deeply into you makes a tear roll down your cheek. You’d never been fucked so good in your life. And you never imagined that Shouto would be the one to dominate you like this either-- the boy was usually so collected and calm. A sharp crack! yanks you out of your thoughts, a delectable tingling sensation spreading over your ass. Your head falls back to look at your boyfriend, who is ready to catch your gaze with a pointed, seductive look.

“You like when I treat you like this, baby girl?” he slams you onto his abs, making a startled shriek float out from you. He simpers at your reaction, hand leaving your ankle to wrap around your torso, encasing your breast while his icy thumb rubs your nipple gently.

You can’t help but curve into him, shoving your cunt harder onto his waiting cock. A short grunt slithers out of him, and his thumb and forefinger pinch the sensitive bud forcefully. “Mmmph-- I love it so much,” you gasp, one hand shakily reaching toward your throbbing clit.

Shouto’s eyes follow the movement, and he gulps as you touch yourself, the new stimulation making your pussy instantly squeeze around him tightly. His gaze sharpens with vehemence as your cunt grasps him needily, fluttering distinctly around his dick. Your soft whimpers are muffled into the duvet as you rub your slick clit repeatedly, the tension burning between your legs building rapidly with such provocation. “Baby girl, are you close?” he whispers hoarsely, fingertips turning white as he brashly clutches you soft skin.

You nod wildly, not caring if your makeup smudges against the sheets. “I, oh god Shou, I’m so close,” you warn, pussy clamping onto him forcefully.

An anguished sob rips from your throat as Shouto pulls his cock out, leaving your cunt aching and empty. With tears springing into your eyes, you look back at him, dejection prominent in your gaze. But all he greets you with is a gentle smile, hands trailing off of you to feather his fingertips against the skin of your waist. “On your back, baby girl. I want you to look at me when you cum all over my cock,” he tantalizes, and you instantly roll over, legs stretched far apart. He snickers lightly, eyes scouring down your flushed body, lingering on your glistening, trembling core. He scoots forward, pushing your back against the headboard, tucking a pillow behind you thoughtfully. “Give Daddy a kiss, baby girl,” he murmurs, and your plush lips greet his own right away. He hums, savoring the feeling of your hot tongue rolling against his. The way you follow his orders with such enthusiasm sends fresh blood to his cock, which twitches irritably against your wet cunt.

You whine impatiently as his dick slides against your slit, his tongue driving yours into submission. Your heart hammers against your ribs in anticipation as his arms tuck underneath your knees, folding your legs against your stomach and then pushing them open so his body fits between them perfectly. His tips presses against your quivering entrance, and the hand around his cock guides himself in slow circles, collecting your arousal before he pushes into you.

He only enters you halfway but your body quakes at the feeling of your walls welcoming him inside once more. His hips shuffle, easing his cock further and further into your sopping cunt with each thrust. His breath is heavy but measured as he finds a rhythm, battling against your clenched heat as he shoves himself inside you. His hands gently grasp the top of your hips, holding you close to himself but doing so almost tenderly. “Did you think about me when you touched yourself to that nasty video baby girl?” he pants, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face. His eyes burning with dominance, tongue running ferociously under his teeth.

You gasp for breath, locking eyes with him and nodding wantonly. “Yes, yes I always think of you when I touch myself Daddy,” you attest, head falling atop the pillow as his left hand gropes your breast in response. The renewed frost of his palm causing you to jerk against him, his hips persist the assault on your core. His hot right hand pushes your calf into the air, making you tighten around him as he accesses your deepest point again.

“Is that all, princess?” Your cunt tightens against his thick cock at his prompt. His hips roll divinely against yours, the new movement making his abdomen brush against your clit. Your lip trembles, recognizing the numb feeling sprouting within you that signals your orgasm is near. “Don’t you wanna convince me to let you cum?” he presses on, thumb swiping across your perky nipple and inciting a lustful moan from you. Shouto knows that you’re hurtling toward the edge, but it’s so much fun to see if you’ll be able to control yourself for him.

“I— oh god, Daddy,” you squirm slightly in his hold, your peak dangerously impending.

“Take your time, baby girl,” he smolders, lips hung tightly in a victorious smirk. Watching you melt in his hands, he notices that he’s nearing his own climax… but he pushes the thought of it away now so he can focus on you.

You feel a wave of heat wash through your body, toes curling almost painfully as you press your lips together into a firm line. You glance down to watch Shouto’s cock disappear into your center one more time before you look at his face, catching his eye. “I,” you gulp, sucking in a breath of air before he had the chance to steal it from you. “I can never make myself feel as good as you do, Shouto.” You relish the way his eyelids sink hazily, his teeth capturing his pretty bottom lip. “Y-You make me— nghhh— feel so full when you hit my g-spot, ah!” your hands fly to his shoulders as his own viciously grip your hips, pace and force increased. “Please!” you beg,” Please let me cum Daddy! I— I’ve been so good for you, please!”

He laughs menacingly against the moist skin of your neck, “I suppose you have been a good girl, Y/N.” He can feel your legs quivering as you dangle on the edge, a wave of pride washing over him as he looks at your wrecked state. “Whose— fuck, whose pussy is this?” He leans close to your face, pushing your leg against your body even tighter.

Your voice cracks in desperation, spine curving into a crescent shape as your fingernails scrape his shoulders. “Yours! Oh my god— Yours, Shouto— Daddy! Please!” You were so close, the corners of your vision going blurry.

His hips continue to slap against yours ruthlessly. His curled lips press a chaste kiss to your cheek, nose pressing against your ear as he commands,” Cum for me, baby girl.”

Your legs stiffen around his hips, the rubber band of your orgasm snapping brutally as your pussy clenches onto your boyfriend for dear life. His lips cover yours as you let out a defeated and unfiltered moan, hips crashing against his in ecstasy. He wheezes as your cunt voraciously grips his length, hips stuttering as he lets you ride out your climax. His mouth leaves yours and swoops down, slurping a nipple into his mouth, suckling and twirling his tongue around the peak. Your lungs burn for air as you gasp, lightning tingling from your fingertips to your toes. You brush an overwhelmed tear from your cheek, your mind beginning to fan off the clouds of pleasure.

Shouto lets go of your nipple, returning to pound into you from above. His movements are rough and fast, and they abuse your already aching g-spot even more, making your eyes nearly cross. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” he rasps, perspiration dripping down the deep grooves of his muscular torso,” You’re such a good baby girl for Daddy, look at you taking my cock so well.” He throws his head back, harsh pants traveling towards the ceiling as he realizes he doesn’t have to hold back his own orgasm any longer. Fuck, was he this close to busting a nut in you the entire time?

You nudge your nose underneath his slacked jaw, making him hang his head again for you to capture his lips. His lips dance against yours clumsily, the tempo of his hips becoming jerky. You can feel his ragged breath on your skin, low moans tumbling out from his mouth as his eyes clench shut. “Daddy,” you whimper, wiggling your hips to push against his further.

Shouto curses under his breath, eyes peeling open into slits to regard your provocative expression. “Y-Yes, baby girl?” he groans, taking in the way your round breasts bounce to the glide of his thrusts.

“Please cum for me,” you plead, your hands running along his solid, sweaty frame. He moans at your request, hips bumping clumsily into yours at his heightened pace. “I want your cum to fill me up, please, Shouto,” you urge, “I need it so bad!” Your cheeks blush once again at your erotic invitation, and Shouto feels himself rip through the finish line as he takes in your bashful, demure expression.

“Fuck, Y/N!” he grumbles, his hips jutting against yours lazily as his cock spurts his hot, thick load into you. Your cunt quivering as you receive his cum, your body thrums, sharing in the ecstasy radiating off of Shouto’s rigid form. He whimpers as he pumps into you a few more times, the last of his cum shooting into your welcoming core before he stills.

Shouto’s slick torso gently sags onto your body, shaky breaths dragging into his lungs as he attempts to recover. His face falling into your neck, he groans as your pussy clenches on his still-hard dick. His palms meet the swell of your breasts, thumbs softly caressing the prominent buds that stand upright for him. His lips glide against the sleek skin of your neck, and you feel his eyelashes tickle your jaw as he places sweet and gentle kisses to your throat.

You barely recognize the fluid dribbling out of your pussy, collecting into a small puddle underneath your ass. It’s just Shouto and you in this moment, the two of you savoring each other’s presence. He stays hovering over you for a minute, body still connected with yours as he gains his sanity. Your eyes are closed, breathing finally evening out.

His lips greet yours playfully, gliding in sync as one of his hands travels to your neck, tipping your head back so he has better access to your mouth. Your lips part with a whine as he takes his cock out of you, feeling empty and sore without his warm fullness inside anymore. His tongue coasts deeper into your mouth, tangling with yours as his fingers slip into the hair at the nape of your neck. He lets your leg slide off his shoulder, placing it down next to his hip with care. He pulls his mouth away from yours, chuckling deeply as his mischievous eyes meet yours.

Your eyebrow quirks up, a small smile gracing your lips too. “What?” you pout, fingers hanging around the back of his neck.

The smile that splits his lips is blinding and so genuine, it stuns you for a moment before you process his words.

“You nasty, baby girl.”

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

make sure to shoot me an ask or a reblog if you enjoyed, nasty bb girls ♥︎ thank you for reading!!

masterlist (no other fics at this point as of feb 6, 2020)

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bl00dgutsgl0ry · 4 years ago

Note

prompt 16 from the angst list w/ childe (“you’ve changed”) but is it possible to have a happy ending 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Pairing - Childe/Tartaglia/Ajax x Reader

Warnings - None I don’t think?

Word Count - 2.5k

Other Comments - I’ve tried to write this like five times now oh my god, also yes I know the header looks dumb I slept on it and now I hate it but I didn’t wanna make you wait any long I’m so sorry! ANYWAY I love this prompt and I love writing angst with all my heart hehe. ENJOY! No I did not proof read this I am currently late for work LOL

Life used to be so simple when you were younger. You had a lovely close knit family, you went to a great school, you had great friends. All around you were a happy little kid. The best thing you will ever remember from your childhood was your best friend Ajax. Everything was so simple.

Ajax was the poster child of a “perfect kid”. He was well liked by his teachers and peers, he had superb grades, he was becoming a young prodigy in his combat class, and above all, he was your all time best friend. You two were inseparable ever since you had met when your parents had all gotten to know each other once at an event.

No one ever really saw one of you without the other, and if they ever did come across such a sight, it would never last long. You two also almost went through the entirety of school being in the same class, and if you weren’t, Ajax would always find a way to catch you right as you were being dismissed. You two had the most innocent yet cliché childhood friendship, as you two played with each other or hung out day after day.

“One day (y/n) I’m going to marry you! I promise!” Ajax enveloped you in a hug as the two of you giggled.

This lasted for quite some time, that was until Ajax had turned eighteen. His combat skills had skyrocketed since his adolescent classes and competitive matches. Combat came like second nature to him, and that didn’t go by unnoticed. Very quickly Ajax got an offer for a job, one that he would never tell you details about. You remember the shock that enveloped you when Ajax excitedly spouted the good news to you.

You didn’t know whether to be happy or sad. You wanted to be happy for your childhood friend because this was an amazing offer for him, and an incredible opportunity to keep growing. But on the other hand you wanted to be sad because you knew you would see him less and less as time went on, not only that but you were still just so uncertain about this job. Ajax never withheld information about what was going on in his life until now; what if he got himself into something awful? Nonetheless you quickly plastered a shocked and excited expression on your face, as you rambled different forms of congrats and praise for being so good. Before Ajax left to go back to his home you gave him the tightest hugged and made him promise to stay close. Ajax was floored that you valued your friendship with him so much you would make him promise something he would never give up.

Time had passed and you noticed yourselves slowly drifting apart. It went from calling each other less, to only texting, then to texting less until you guys barely talked. You understood Ajax was busy, but it still stung seeing you what you thought would’ve been your life long friend slowly forget about you. That was until you had received something in the mail with a very familiar name on it. Ajax.

A small black box containing what looked to be a hand made scrappily hammered ring along with a letter at the bottom landed on your desk in your bedroom, assuming one of your parents must’ve dropped it off in there. All doubts about Ajax in your mind had been eased as you delicately slid the heavy polished ring on your finger. After you did you giggled in excitement as a delicate pink blush found its way to the tops of your cheeks and ears. You had almost forgotten about the note neatly folded, awaiting to be opened and it’s contents to be discovered.

You gently unfolded the letter, almost scared that you’d rip it. Inside was the most beautifully written borderline love letter you had ever read, it was almost like romantic poetry, and at the very end was a sentence you wanted to burn into your memory ‘remember that promise?’. Your mind was immediately flooded with all the fond memories you had with Ajax, blushing more and more as you uncovered them. By the end of your daydream session butterflies were fluttering around excitedly in your stomach. You didn’t want to be friends with Ajax anymore. You wanted to love him.

It had been years since you last heard from him. Not a day has gone by that you haven’t worn the ring Ajax had given you so long ago. You moved away from Snezhnaya after you turned eighteen, now residing in Mondstadt whilst you were going to college; you planned to move back after getting your degree but you made some great friends and the carefree culture of the windy city really called to you. Though after one of your parents' health took a turn for the worst you had made quick plans to go visit with your family.

It had felt like ages since you last stepped foot out into the familiar icy air, looking around to see the sheets of snow and ice covering the ground. Luckily the streets were plowed, which allowed you to maneuver through the city. Your visit has been great since setting foot in your childhood home. You were happy to be home for the time being, happy to relive the nostalgic moments of your younger days. Everything had changed so much since then. You had barely even thought about Snezhnaya or even Ajax for that matter despite wearing his ring every day, wanting to start fresh when you left for college.

You suddenly realized you had let your head drop accidentally dozing off, jerking yourself out of melancholy memories. You decided it was probably jet lag, but it was far too early to go to sleep so coffee sounded like a good solution. You remembered an old coffee shop you used to study at whilst you were in high school, that was conveniently within walking distance to your house. With a quick five minute walk to the outdoor shops that littered the local streets you lived by, you located the coffee shop taking a minute to stare at the outside. It hadn’t changed at all.

Smiling to yourself you walked in and politely ordered a coffee before sitting down at a high table by the window. The stand for the table had a heater built in, keeping you warm as you looked out the thin glass shielding you from the icy winds. You took in the old streets, smiling as you once again lost yourself in the nostalgia of everything. You hadn’t noticed a strikingly tall ginger walk into the shop, and you also hadn’t noticed the considerably loud gasp and call of your name. You only noticed the man's presence when he tapped on your table, causing you to jolt and promptly turn in his directly. It took you a minute to realize who you were staring at.

“(Y/n)? What the hell are you doing here?” Ajax. There he stood, at the side of you bent over at the hips slightly so he wasn’t completely towering over you. Ajax didn’t want to see you here. He didn’t want to see you at all. You were still fresh in his mind just like you were the last day he had seen you. He missed you. His eyes fell to your hand where he saw the ring he had made and sent to you still on your finger after all these years.

Your face was almost unrecognizable after all the time that passed, you had grown so much since then. Something unsettled Ajax about your demeanor, you were like an open book to him when you guys were younger as you wore your heart on your sleeve. Looking at you now though, there was no glimpse at the emotions you were feeling in this moment. Were you happy to see him again, since you wore his ring? Were you upset with him breaking his promise? Ajax couldn’t tell as you stared blankly at him for what seemed like ages, giving it enough time to make the air solidify and turn stale and uncomfortable. You finally shook yourself out of this trance you were in, as you suddenly stood up.

“Wha- Hey, wait a minute (y/n)! What are you doing here?” You didn’t acknowledge Ajax’s voice, subliminally yearning to fall into his strong arms. You were upset. How dare he ask you what you’re doing here. You weren’t the one who had completely abandoned everyone in your life for some sketchy job. You grabbed your coffee before swiftly beginning to exit. Something in Ajax was different. He didn’t really take kindly to you ignoring him, as you felt a vice like grip grab onto your wrist, causing you to flinch and whip around to angrily rip your arm out of his grasp.

“Don’t touch me Ajax! How dare you have the audacity to ask me what I’m doing here! This was my home! I didn’t abandon everyone I knew and loved on some sketchy ass whim!” Ajax stared at you. Were you joking?! Some ‘sketchy ass whim’?! You supported him when he first told you!

“What the hell is wrong with you (y/n)?!” Your eyes narrowed as you grit your teeth, you grip on your coffee tightening. Without even thinking you threw it in his face.

“What’s wrong with me?! You’re so fucked up Ajax! We were best friends and then you completely vanish from reality! You promised me we would stay close!” Now it was time for Ajax to grit his teeth. So you were upset with him about that.

“(Y/n) that was years ago!! We grew up! That was just a stupid childish promise!” As soon as those words left Ajax’s mouth, he went silent as his eyes widened in horror at his on voice. The entire coffee shop was silent as they all watched your argument break out. Ajax didn’t mean to say that, he knew he had fucked up his promise with you and he hated himself for it; he just didn’t know how to explain what he was doing without scaring you off or pushing you away. Turns out he was already doing that by vanishing. He wanted you to forget about him, he knew that when he took the job to join the Fatui and serve the Tsaritsa he would never be able to give you what you deserved. A normal and happy relationship. Ajax was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard a sniff and realized you were beginning to cry.

“Ah… So that’s what it was. Just a way to get me to get off your back. I suppose the ring served the same purpose? Whatever Ajax, you’ve changed and I don’t ever wanna see you again.” You quickly ripped the ring off before throwing it in the trash as you stormed out, trying not to audibly cry, as you had already embarrassed yourself enough in that shop. Ajax stood statuesque still. Holy shit he had made everything so much worse. He sighed before snapping out of his position to grab some napkins, to hopefully dry himself off before venturing back outside. He had to fix this.

It had been a couple days since your argument with Ajax and you were in shambles. This could not have come at a worse time. You were just happy that this Gods awful trip was coming to an end soon. You sighed as you flipped onto your back in your childhood bedroom, trying to reminisce on the old memories you had here, but all of them had gotten tainted by Ajax. He had ruined everything for you. You regretted everything with him, with getting so close to him. Tears had started to well up in your eyes but you quickly blinked them away before they had gotten the chance to fall. You hadn’t noticed before, but there was this weird tapping sound coming from your window; which caused you to anxiously investigate. You pulled your curtains back to be greeted with Ajax, who looked at you sheepishly. You blankly stared at him for a moment before closing the curtains and going back to lay on your bed, trying your hardest to ignore Ajax’s protests and calls of your name. After a while everything had gone silent, until your door opened and Ajax emerged one again.

“Uh… I’m sorry about coming into your room uninvited but one of your parents called me inside and said I could just come in. In hindsight I probably should’ve knocked before coming in and-”

“What the hell do you want Ajax.” You cut off the young man's babbling without looking at him, you were on your side laying down on your bed with your back facing him.

“I wanted to make everything up to you. I want to explain everything and I want to tell you about my job finally.” Ajax was hopeful that you would allow him the opportunity to explain himself.

“No. Now get out of my house.” Ajax’s heart sunk. No… No no no you had to let him explain himself, he needed to explain. He needed you.

“Please (y/n) I know you don’t owe me anything, not even your time, but please I owe you this.” You sighed, before slowly sitting up and facing him finally. You stared at him for a moment before speaking.

“Fine. But you have two minutes, so you better speak quickly.” Ajax’s heart fluttered. He spent those two minutes exactly, explaining everything that happened. You were silent for the most part, staring at your hand and you fiddled with your fingers. Ajax waited anxiously for your response. When you didn’t give him anything he took this as a sign to move onto faze two of his apology. For the last couple of days he had been running all over Snezhnaya spending preposterous amounts of mora. He had presented you with flowers and food; but above all he presented you with a ring.

“That is one promise that I am going to keep true. Please (y/n) forgive me and make me the happiest man in the world and marry me.” You stared at him with large eyes and Ajax took a hold of one of your hands and gently slid the beautiful ring onto your ring finger. Tears once again began to well up in your eyes, and suddenly your arms were wrapped around his torso as you cried into his chest. You missed this. He still felt the same way he did when you hugged him last, he even smelled the same.

“Is that… A yes?” You nodded furiously, face still buried deep in his chest. You were willing to forgive him, but above all, you were willing to love him again.

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epitome-of-an-openbook · 3 years ago

Text

Cult Leader Villain!Deku - Engagement and Suspicion Pt. 2

On Wednesday mornings, there was always one thing that Shouta could count on: Todoroki and Uraraka showing up at least fifteen minutes late to homeroom. And, according to Principal Nezu, there was nothing he could do to punish the two of them for it. Something about exemptions made for religious practices or something. All Shouta knew about it was that apparently Todoroki and Uraraka had to do some sort of special ritual every Wednesday morning that meant they had to take a later train in order to get to school. Whatever it was, it was illogical to prioritize worshiping someone or something (that probably wasn't real in the first place) over one's education, especially when in the hero course, where actual real lives were potentially on the line.

As for the students who weren't late to class every Wednesday, it was always up in the air as to who would be early, on time, or sneak in just as the bell rings. Today the early birds included Iida and Bakugo (no surprises there), Momo, Jirou, and (slightly more surprising) the entirety of Bakugo's little entourage.

As Shouta slipped into the room to start putting the day's schedule on the board, he mostly tried to ignore the group's gossip but it caught his attention when he heard Ashido gasp before saying something about one of his two most elusive students.

"- you're kidding me right?? Todoroki said that?!"

"Yeah, Denks was asking him about this mark on his arm that he and Kiri had noticed in the locker room, turns out it's some sort of tattoo for their little cult thing" Tattoos? Cult? Shouta snorted quietly to himself - well that was mildly concerning, but teenage gossip was hardly a reliable source. Whatever this interaction Sero was describing was certainly interesting though. "Anyway he was telling us what all the different parts of it meant, and get this, he told us that the part with the leaves- uhhhh how did he put it Kiri?"

"He explained to us that the leaves were uhhh yarrow leaves I think - don't quote me on that - and he more or less said that they 'symbolized his engagement' or something to that effect."

Shouta froze. That couldn't be right. As he started to turn he noticed that Jirou and Momo had also approached the group to join the conversation.

"Wait, wait," this came from Jirou, "Todoroki's engaged? To like ... a person?"

"Yep," Kirishima answered eyes wide as he nodded in affirmation.

"At first Kiri and I were convinced we had misheard or misunderstood, but when we asked for clarification Uraraka told us that he was engaged to a human person, and when we asked if maybe it was arranged or something he totally blew up at us."

Kaminari nodded his head violently in agreement with Sero as Kirishima cut back in, "Uraraka and him were super pissed that we asked that and he started going on about how they were 'given God's blessing' and that they had apparently fasted for like a week or something."

Shouta blinked, it seemed as though each word that poured from Sero or Kirishima was ten times more concerning then the last-

"And that's not even the half of it," Sero cut in once more, "We, definitely, one-hundred percent heard Uraraka say that the person he is engaged to... is 'The Verdant Angel'."

Now Shouta had no fucking idea what the hell that was but based on Yaoyorozu's gasp and Mina's "No freaking way", his students clearly did.

After a half second of silence Jirou let out a derisive snort before crossing her arms and lifting a single eyebrow, "You guys are bullshitting us aren't you?"

"We are not!" came Kaminari's indignant reply.

"Todoroki is fifteen, the same as the rest of us, there's no way the leading figure of his religion-"

"Cult," Sero coughed into his fist.

-is engaged to him" Jirou finished and turned to look at Sero more directly, "And there's no proof his religion is a cult guys, I saw an article about them just the other day talking about the work they've been doing with the local homeless shelters and how they have been putting together a support network for children facing quirk abuse and discrimination. Cults are abusive and controlling by definition, you guys are just being mean."

Shouta let out a slow breath and turned back to the board to finish the last bit of the schedule before crawling into his sleeping bag to try and fit in a quick nap before the bell rang, Jirou had a good head on her shoulders and made some valid points, Shouta would look into his wayward students religious practices later just to be sure, but it seemed pretty likely that Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero were exaggerating about their supposed recent interaction (as teens are wont to do). As he slowly shut his eyes he picked up the tail end of their conversation-

"Well if you don't believe us then one of you should ask him out after class and see how he responds, I guarantee he'll say something weird about it."

"Fine, Momo can do it since she's the most familiar with him"

"Well, uh, actu-"

"Deal!"

----------

True to form, the bell rang and it was another twenty minutes before Todoroki and Uraraka shuffled quietly in to class while Shouta explained about upcoming events they would have to participate in as first year hero students before setting them to use the rest of homeroom as a study session. As he watched on he couldn't help the slight discomfort he felt in his stomach when he looked over at Todoroki and Uraraka. While teenagers aren't the most reliable source of information, much of what was said earlier was highly concerning and it would probably be smart to keep a closer eye on the two.

Shouta had almost forgotten about the latter portion of the kids conversation when he looked up to see Yaoyorozu walking sheepishly over to the dual haired boy's desk, with 2 minutes left of class.

"Hey, um Todoroki. How are you?"

The boy blinked slowly up at her before replying, "I am well."

Yaoyorozu laughed slightly, "Oh that's good, I was wondering umm, maybe if you're free sometime, if you would like to go out... on a date. Go out on a date... with me?"

"Oh," he blinks up owlishly at her from his chair, "no thank you," then turns back to his work.

Yaoyorozu starts to turn back to her seat when Sero and Kirishima wave her back, as though telling her to keep going.

"-uhhhh," she pauses and turns back once more, "Could I ask why not?"

"Well," Todoroki said looking up at her once more, "I am already betrothed to God's redeemer, to date you would be to turn my back on God."

Yaoyorozu made a high-pitched hum of slight discomfort as all the air left Shouta's lungs. Perhaps Shouta had been too quick to agree with Jirou's assessment of the boys' gossip. Because as much as he hated to admit it. That definitely sounded like cult stuff, in the worst possible way.

If Shouta felt dazed until the end of the day that was no one else's business. And if at the end of the day he asked Todoroki and Uraraka to stay behind well...

"Are you two okay? Is there anything going on that you need help with?"

They blinked slowly at him.

"No, we're fine Sensei." Uraraka said hesitantly in response.

Shouta breathed out, of course it wouldn't be that simple.

"Well if either of you ever need someone to talk to, of if you need any help at all - you can come to me or any of the staff at UA and we will help you. Okay?"

"Yes Sensei," they said in what Shouta could only describe as creepily perfect unison.

He sighed once more, "You two are free to go."

They looked at him a bit longer, squinting their eyes in confusion, or maybe suspicion, before turning to leave. Leaning in to whisper with each other as they exited the room with one last glance at Shouta.

He buried his face in his hands, rubbing at his temples to combat the incoming headache. He really, really, didn't want to - but it seemed like he might have to dig into the religious practices of his students on the off chance they may have joined a dangerous cult.

#Villain!Deku Cult AU #bnha cult au #villain!tododeku #villain!deku #villain!midoriya #bnha fic ideas #tododeku #good teacher aizawa shouta #aizawa doesn't want to deal with a cult #but two of his kids are maybe in a cult and it sounds like one of them is maybe engaged to a whole ass adult human

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willadisastercry · 4 years ago

Text

Appendicitis in space...

tw: emetophobia, appendicitis symptoms described, surgery, anesthesia, anxiety.

Coran is secretly shitting himself when the scanner lets him know that this particular human condition requires actual surgery. Most serious injuries they sustained did, but most also could be mended in a pod. This one was an exception, though. Because nothing needed to be fixed, something needed to be removed.

Lance tumbled forward awkwardly as the simulator sputtered and powered down.

“What gives, Shiro? I had that round!”

“Oh yeah? Then that wasn’t me just watching you getting your ass handed to you? Right,” Shiro laughed and he began packing up the equipment that had been pulled out.

“That’s enough for today anyway. Good work, everyone.”

Lance couldn’t even find it in him to continue his protests as he leaned over on his knees to catch his breath while he waited for the cramping in his side to dissolve.

Training that morning had been rough for everyone. Shiro wanted to ensure that the lull in active missions did not leave his team thinking they could kick back. So they worked on hand to hand combat and trained on as hard of a level they could tolerate until they became proficient in whichever skill they were focusing on.

Everyone did pretty well. They all made varying degrees of progress, but progress nonetheless.

Well, everyone except for Lance.

And he was pissed.

So he determined not to quit until he improved from his navice standing with a short sword, running the simulation countless times but barely making a dent.

He fought sloppily, all desperation and no strategy. Actually he did have sort of a strategy if you counted fighting simply to survive and that was not how you were supposed to train, but Shiro gave up on driving that point home early on.

Because Lance was visibly off.

Shiro had chided him earlier for picking at his breakfast, that he would regret it once they began training, but he just shrugged.

Lance barely spoke the entire morning of which Shiro was very wary of given that he was usually the most energetic of the bunch in the mornings.

But he assured the older boy he was fine.

Shiro knew that he had been feeling crappy the last few days so at first he attributed the weird behavior to him probably still feeling gross.

So when he fought sloppily he knew it was because he was fatiguing much quicker than his teammates. That when he got hit by an obvious blow it was because his brain quite literally couldn’t keep up with the battle.

He’d start off okay only to spend the rest of the simulation narrowly feigning off every strike after the first few parries and getting properly clobbered by way too many.

Shiro was glad he was able to recognize his shoddy performance for what it was before he exacerbated the issue, making a mental note to check in on him later that day as he finished cleaning up.

The paladins stalked off to the showers, Hunk and Pidge engaging in a riveting conversation explaining to Keith how the castle’s ‘waste’ was plumbed and disposed of.

He was horrified to say the least.

Lance lagged behind, the exhaustion from the session making his limbs feel so very heavy. Not to mention the knot in his side had never gone away and the trek was only increasing his discomfort as the adrenaline high wore off.

But he resigned that he was just overly tired and that a hot shower would likely help.

And it did, for his aching muscles. But his abdomen was still taut, the steady pulse of discomfort making him a little queasy.

He detached the removeable shower head and held it on his side for a moment. The water was boiling and so the heat seemed to numb the spot, but the pain was still there.

He gingerly began probing the area as he tried to work out what exactly was hurting, thinking maybe he’d pulled a muscle.

His stomach had been feeling weird for the last couple of days, but it had never been a concentrated pain like this.

And as he pressed around he was able to pinpoint the exact spot that was smarting the most so he could rub out whatever the issue was.

But as soon as he put pressure on it he knew he’d messed up.

It wasn’t even the pressure so much as the lack of it because when he removed his fingers to work out the soreness he grunted loudly as pain erupted at the site.

He was so caught off guard by the sudden sharpness that took over the dull ache that he dropped the shower head and it clanged on the tile, just narrowly missing his foot when he hadn’t even made an effort to avoid it.

His vision went white for a second and he stumbled into the wall, mostly due to the intense fear that was now upon him, and it took a second for the blood rush to settle before he could hear his friends knocking on the door of the shower stall.

“—ance? Lance!”

“The fuck is going on in there...”

He took a shuddering breath and called out that he was fine, he was just tired.

“Are you like weak in the knees tired or what? Because if you pass out in there and we have to help you while you’re butt ass naked, I swear—“

“I’m not going to pass out,” he groaned as he leaned his head back against the wall with a hand hovering carefully on his side.

“Okay, you’ve just been in there forever.”

“And Shiro said to keep an eye on you for suspicious behavior.”

“He’s not a suspect, Pidge, he’s just stubborn.”

“Well I am very much okay, so you can tell Shiro that and leave me alone.”

“Jeez—“

“Damn, well if you take a header you’ve gotten your wish, you’re on your own.”

Hunk and Pidge started off and Lance sighed, about to apologize when his side twinged, stealing a more pained sound from his throat.

He leaned his head back and tried to breathe through it, the worst muscle cramp of his life, once again not really being able to pay attention to what else was happening.

The pain wasn’t spreading, it was intensifying. Twisting and burning under each harsh pant, like someone was holding a fire poker to him and moving it around.

It was making his head swim and his stomach churn. He had been nauseous all morning and hadn’t eaten, so he was very confused as to how he could possibly need to throw up now, but there was no questioning it when he almost choked on the saliva rushing to fill his mouth.

He didn’t know when he’d grabbed the towel thrown over the door and tied it around his waist or when he’d made a break for the toilets across the room, he just knew he was moving and that he wouldn’t make it there.

And then he was hunching over one of the many sinks heaving, his side in a fiery protest with each contraction in his stomach.

The blood rush was back in his ears, so he didn’t know that Keith was talking to him or that he was even there until he was hitting his back when he couldn’t breathe in between gags and almost choked on his own sick. The shock of the hit allowed his stomach to break its cycle of relentless clenching.

He spit up the last of the bile that made its way up his throat and ducked his head further between his shoulders as he leaned on the sink while he caught his breath.

His lungs ached and he was dizzy. Everything seemed to hurt from that, all temporarily dulling the bite of the worsening throb in his side.

“Ok, what the fuck was that?” he could hear Keith asking after a minute.

He started to speak, to give an explanation, but he didn’t even know what to say, he wasn’t sure what was wrong. But when he went to talk his side pulsed rather aggressively and he was instantly gagging again.

Not much came up this time though as his stomach had already divulged itself of all its contents.

After he calmed back down, he looked up at himself through the mirror.

He was really pale except for a splash of red across his cheeks, his muscles tight and straining as he suffered through his discomfort and the pain, skin glistening in a mix of sweat and water.

And then he found Keith’s pointed gaze in it.

“Should I get Coran? You look like shit.”

“Ah—uhyh huh...” he struggled to formulate his words through his ragged breaths but got there eventually.

“Ye-yeah, please...”

“Okay, you good here or do you need to sit?”

“I-I’m gonna put... something on,” he stated before pushing himself up from the sink uneasily. Once he was up straight he wobbled a little and Keith grabbed his arm, but he shook him off saying he just needed a second and waited for the swirling black dotting his vision to disappear before heading for his pile of clothes on the bench.

Keith stayed next to him the entire way, making sure he got there without splitting his head open, more worried now then he was when Lance was choking on his own puke.

But he hid it well for the most part, except when he was actually being really nice. That was his tell.

“I’ll be back before you know it. Don’t try and get to the toilet if you need to yak again, wouldn’t want anything to happen to that amazing brain of yours—“

“Hey...”

“Kidding, i’ll be really quick though. And seriously just stay there.”

“Yup, not going anywhere...” he assured, returning his hand to hover over the fire that felt like it was burning a hole in his side, the other waving Keith off.

Lance pulled his hoodie from the pile first. His skin was covered in goose bumps from how cold he was and he didn’t have the energy to put his entire post workout sweat suit on so it would have to do for now.

He shrugged it on carefully, it took a while because lifting his right arm up aggravated his side, but once it was on he felt better. He was still really cold and his hair was still wet so that wasn’t helping.

Pants next. Well underwear first. He found his boxer briefs in the pile and got to his feet wearily. He was still really dizzy and so he decided to proceed with caution and moved over to lean against the wall for this.

He took a deep breath and leaned over to put his feet through. It hurt. The orientation made his head pound dangerously and he straightened up only to feel a twinge from his side.

Fuck, he remembered thinking as he leaned heavily on the wall. But he very much needed to have underwear on when Coran came back, so he tried again.

This time he just dropped his arms down in front of him, keeping his torso straight as he raised one leg at a time through each leg hole.

Success. He breathed a sigh of relief and released his towel then started for the sweat shorts but his body did not like that.

He was none too kindly reminded of how lightheaded and dizzy he still was in that moment and he staggered forward, his foot catching a wet spot on the floor and the momentum of the error took him to the ground hard.

He landed very much on his ass but the fall jolted through his side like he’d gotten shot. If he thought it was on fire before, he was very wrong. This heat was excruciating and nauseating and blinding and gosh it was hard to breathe.

He hadn’t known when he’d laid down but he was suddenly very aware he was writhing on his side, feet kicking and searching for purchase on the tile as he arched through the pain piercing his abdomen.

And then there was a shadow over him. It sounded like robots were talking over him, their cold hands gripping his shoulders and face and turning him to lie on his back.

He had just been so cold but their hands felt so much colder because he was not aware he had started sweating. That wasn’t the only thing coming back to him, so was the nausea rippling through his stomach just as intensely as the fire raged.

He tried to focus his eyes, tried to see the faces over him. It was hard with how everything seemed to be spinning but eventually he could make them out.

“C-Coran, please... p-please”

“I will my boy, but you’ve got to tell me what’s wrong. What’s hurting?”

His hand moved from scratching at the tile to tug on his sweatshirt pocket.

“Where on your stomach? Show me,” Coran ordered as he lifted Lance’s sweatshirt up to his chest.

From the outside everything looked perfectly fine, aside from his abnormal parlor.

So Coran was dubious when he watched the sick boy move his hand cautiously over his side right beside and a little lower down than his belly button, his fingertips barely brushing the warm skin but producing a stiff breath anyway.

“Hm,” Coran mused, muttering a quick ‘forgive me boy’ before he pressed down on and around the spot.

Lance’s scream was drowned by his gag and then Keith was beside Coran, his hands tilting Lance’s face to the side and then pulling his torso that way as well. He thrashed and tried to wriggle out of their grips as he struggled, the pressure of being on the side that was on fire too much as his gut wrenched up nothing but yellow.

“Calm down Lance, you’re okay!”

“Breathe boy, you’re working yourself up and it’ll only make it worse. I think your appendix has ruptured, we’ll need to get you to the infirmary immediately...”

He wasn’t sure what was said after he that, his memory of getting to the infirmary was hazy because of how much it fucking hurt.

He was vaguely aware of curling up in a wheelchair, one hand clutching his stomach and another barely holding open a vomit bag up to his mouth. Nothing was coming up then except for saliva.

He didn’t even remember being lifted into a bed in the infirmary because the movement had unsettled his stomach once more, stealing his breath while he struggled against the vice wrapping around his empty stomach.

They had to put a cannula around his nose to get him extra air while he dry heaved, but he only calmed down after he quite literally almost stopped breathing and Keith ignored Coran’s protest to hit him on the back like before.

He was also sort of aware he had started crying at some point and was reminded of that when Coran was pressing onto his side once more.

At this point he didn’t even have the energy to struggle, he just continued to tremble violently under the touch as fresh tears spilled down his face.

“Hey, shh you’ll feel much better soon,” a new voice assured as they ran their hands through his damp hair. He leaned into the touch and saw that both belonged to Shiro.

“Shit, if I had known you had freaking appendicitis I would never have made you train today,” he laughed sadly.

He shut his eyes closed at that and tried to breathe through the waves of nausea against his pounding headache all topped off by the fire poker in his side.

“Coran what’s the estimated time in the pod for this, you think?” Keith asked as the others were just arriving.

“I’m afraid he cannot go into a pod just yet,” Coran said gravely, not once lifting his face from his tablet.

“Lance!”

“Woah, what the quiznak happened?!”

“He’s so freaking pale, oh my god.”

“It’s his appendix,” Keith offered.

“The scans show that the organ has completely ruptured and is leaking into his abdomen. It is something that can only be remedied with—with surgery.”

“Oh, Coran... is that—something we can even do here?”

“It’s going to have to be.”

The time between when Shiro explained what was going to be happening to Lance and when they were about to put him under went impossibly slow and too fast all at once.

He would gag occasionally but nothing came up with it. They had since attached a bunch of wires all over him and put an IV in his arm that was giving him pain medicine and antibiotics.

It seemed to help a lot with his discomfort and he eased into the bed after they finally kicked in, his body relaxing for the first time in a while.

“I’m n’gonna feel an’thing right?” He asked Coran, his words sloshing together from the mix of utter exhaustion and drugs.

“Of course not my boy, this will take care of that as will the pain medicine,” he assured as he held a weird altean breathing mask in his hands.

“I’m going to put it over your nose and mouth now, just breathe normally and we’ll do a little count down while you fall asleep.”

Coran motioned to place the mask on him, but he turned away from it.

Lance looked around wildly as if he couldn’t see the multiple friendly faces looking at him and the machines recording his heart rate began to pick up, and then was reaching for someone, anyone.

“We’re here! We’re all right here,” Keith said taking up his hand with a wire attached to his finger, Shiro was grabbing the other.

“I-I don-I don’t”

“You’ve got to buddy, you’re really sick,” Shiro soothed as he ran his hands through his hair once more. The touch calmed him only somewhat, his breath hitching once more as he continued to worry.

“I k-know, but I-I’m scared I w-won’t...”

He was crying again.

“Won’t what buddy?” Hunk asked tenderly as his hand fell to Lance’s leg.

“What if I d-don’t wake up,” he managed before his breathing took a turn and Coran rushed to go find a remedy for it, not quite understanding it was mostly him just being anxious.

Pidge was pushing past all the bodies looming over the bed and sufficiently blocking her from being able to help Lance, but once she shoved Shiro forward she was scrambling onto the bed and nuzzling herself against Lance’s good side.

He gasped at her presence but seemed to melt into it soon after he realized what she was doing. She pulled at the hand clutching Shiro’s and placed it on her back so he could feel her calm breaths and ground himself.

“Slow and deep, you’re okay,” she urged and leaned her head against his chest, his sweatshirt was still on but folded up under itself to expose his stomach, a circle had been drawn around the location of his appendix.

He leaned his head against hers and breathed slow shaking breaths.

“Coran it’s alright, he’s calming down on his own,” Keith urged just as Coran turned up with some strange altean herb that was purple and emitting some sort of low cooing sound.

“You’re going to be just fine, Lance. Coran would never let anything bad happen to you.”

“Yeah, and if you feel like taking an extra long snooze we’ll be here to rudely wake you up like we always do,” Pidge added and she could feel Lance relax under her weight.

“I’m s-sorry for being so mean earlier, guys—“

“Shh, no more saying ‘i’m sorry’. Just accept the cuddle and zip it.”

Lance could almost summon a laugh but the pain in his side prevented it.

“Let’s try again with the sleepy time mask, yeah?”

“Yeah...”

He reached for Shiro’s hand again and all of the other hands on him tried to soothe him as best they could as he tensed when the mask descended on his face.

“We’ve gotcha bud.”

“You’ll be just fine Lance.”

“Nothing bad can happen to when you’re being cuddled so viscuously.”

“Okay, let’s start counting back from 10.”

“10, 9—“

“Easy, count slower. You’re alright.”

A second hand was on his head, pushing his hair back and trailing behind his ear. He closed his eyes at the sensation, it was something his mamá would do.

“9... 8... 7...”

“That’s it number three, easy...”

Around 5 he stopped counting. He felt his body becoming heavier and heavier as he breathed through the strange mask, he could feel the gentle but firm touches of his teammates, the only constant as he breathed deeper and deeper, a pleasant haze falling over him.

He could feel the level in Pidge’s breath, and tried to match it, his eyelids feeling so heavy they were hard to keep open.

And then he felt light.

The last thing he saw before his eyes fluttered shut was Allura and Hunk smiling while they said something that was lost on him.

He didn’t care though, he didn’t need to hear it to know what they meant.

He remembered feeling really safe in that moment.

He wasn’t scared anymore.

#vld #whump scenario #lance angst #vld lance #voltron fic #voltron whump #lance mcclain #sick boy #voltron sick fic #voltron fandom #lance whump #lance anxiety #keith helps #concerned keith

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