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theplanetplu20 · 2 years ago

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Date Night

pairing(s): Larissa Weems x ftm!reader

warnings: none this is just a bunch of fluff

word count: 2.5k

A/N: first of all i did not reread this or edit it so i’m sorry for any mistakes. i don’t really know what this is i’m just obsessed with Weems and there just wasn’t enough fluffy fics for her so here and ofc i had to make it ftm although I think you can prob read it as gender neutral but it briefly mentions binding and top surgery. i sorta based it off myself so your shorter than her and i’m still pretty feminine pls don’t fight me on my transness i’ll fight u anyways if u don’t like that uhhh i’m not sorry just don’t read this bdhd (this is from your point of view)

It’s early in the morning and I was lying in my apartment waiting for my girlfriend to come home from a school trip that had lasted a few days due to how far away the trip was. We’ve been dating for a few months now and since day one Larissa has been my person, she’s the only person who looks at me and really sees me. I’ve been trying to get some work done but all I can think about is if she’s home yet. I had gotten a text around 7am that they were on their way back, but I'm impatient and I haven't seen Larissa for a couple days, so I sat at the couch waiting. My eyes started to grow heavy as i waited since i haven’t been sleeping all that well, i always slept better with her next to me. I fought the sleep as best I could but I guess I fell asleep because a few minutes later I was awakened by the one person I wanted to see.

“honey,” She says softly, shaking me slightly. I love how gentle she is, it's adorable. I opened my eyes, still not ready to get up but wanting to see her. Oh was it worth it though so see her beautiful smile, the one that’s reserved only for me. I sit up, reaching up slightly to hug her.

“I missed you so much my love” I say finally feeling okay again with her in my arms.

“You haven’t been sleeping?” She knows me so well and I love how worried she gets.

“I have!” I protest “Just not as much as you would probably like….” I trail off. she sighs softly I know she’s not actually upset with me, just wishes there was some way to help.

“It’s okay I don’t sleep half as well without you either, why don’t we go to bed and take a quick nap, I still want to do something later though” She says pulling away slightly but not enough to leave my arms. I give her a confused look.

“What are we doing later?” I ask knowing she probably won’t tell me, she loves her surprises.

“wouldn’t you like to know? I guess you just have to wait” she smiles at me. I knew she was going to say that i was waiting for it, I immediately lean in to kiss her. I am so in love with this woman it’s crazy everything she does makes me fall more and more. I take her hand and start to walk to our room. Once we get in the room I kiss Larissa passionately trying to convey all that I feel for her and she kisses me back just as passionately. It feels like only a few seconds when Larissa pulls away but I know it’s been at least five minutes.

“weren’t we going to take a nap?” she says wanting to keep going but knowing if I don’t sleep a little longer now I will be tired for whatever she has planned later.

“Hey it isn’t my fault I have the most intoxicating girlfriend in the world that keeps me distracted” She laughs at this

“okay sweet talker go lay in bed I’m going to change really quick” She gives me a quick peck before pushing my towards the direction of our bed

“Remember to take your binder off and stretch honey don’t think I don’t know you and if you want to wear it later you’ll take it off now for a break” She looks glaring slightly with nothing behind it. I look at her sheepishly, she does know me so well but reluctantly I listen knowing she’ll be upset if i don’t. Listen I know it’s bad to wear it for more than 8 hours but you can’t blame a guy, I’ve been trying to save up enough money for top surgery without Larissa’s help but that shit is expensive. I get into bed and look at Larissa putting on my tshirt and smile just thinking about how i’m just the luckiest fucking guy in the world right now. She turns to face me seeing me already looking at her like she’s the only girl in the world and blushes slightly not used to being watched with such loving eyes which is crazy to me. She walks over and gets under the covers quickly setting our alarms then immediately cuddling into my side with her head tucked in my neck. Even though she’s slightly taller than me she loves to be the little spoon and she knows i will always hold her. I sigh lightly, loving the feel of her back in my arms again. I pull her impossibly closer.

“Sleep well my love” I whisper to her and give her a small kiss on her head.

“you too honey” she whispers back sleepily and we both fall asleep. I hear a very annoying noise that pulls me out from the best sleep I've had in the few days since Larissa has been gone. I reach my arm over and turn the alarm off. I look at the time and it’s 2pm. Then I glance down to see Larissa still tucked into my side. She looks so peaceful and absolutely gorgeous I can’t help but smother her in kisses. Her eyes flutter open and she giggles trying to push my face away with no real effort.

“How'd you sleep, beautiful?” I ask her pulling her impossibly close “good as always” she leans up to peck my lips but when she goes to pull away I chase her lips not letting her go just yet. She hums sweetly into my mouth and I give her one more quick kiss before pulling away to get up.

“Okay if we don’t get up now we’ll never leave this bed and i’m excited for what you have planned, so let’s go” She protests lightly to stay for five more minutes but she knows i’m right and she is clearly also excited for the day too. I give her another kiss and watch her get up and leave the bathroom. I could stay with Larissa in bed all day but I haven’t seen her in days. I wanna do something with her before she gets swept off to deal with evermore. I get up and put on my binder, a pair of beige khakis with a brown belt and a white undershirt with a brown crew neck sweater with a nice pattern on top. I put on a couple necklaces and two rings then walk into the bathroom where Larissa is in the shower. I had showered this morning so there was no need for me to shower. I quickly brush my hair and put a little bit of product in it to keep it looking slightly messy and then I put on some of the cologne Larissa got me. The water turns off and Larissa gets out and pulls her towel around her already cold from the slight chill due to the door being just opened. She looks at my outfit then back up to my face and I can already tell what she's gonna say.

“You look so handsome” I pull her into me by her waist not caring if some water gets on my clothes and she puts her hands onto the sides of my face “my beautiful boy” she pulls me into a searing kiss and I feel fucking euphoric. She was the first to pull away being cold just standing there in a towel. “Okay I'm gonna get ready, do you wanna sit with me and watch?”

it takes me a minute to respond still a little dazed from her kiss. “Um of course, you know i do” i say smiling bright. I find it so relaxing just sitting with her while she gets ready, music softly playing in the background. She starts with drying her hair, before getting dressed. She goes to her vanity to put on her makeup and jewelry so I take the opportunity to wrap my arms around her from behind. “You look so beautiful as always my love” I reach up slightly to put my head into her neck giving her soft kisses. I glance at her in the mirror from her neck to see her smiling at me. “Thank you” She turns in my arms after finishing putting on the last of her jewelry. She looks down into my eyes and I catch that sparkle of adoration in them. I give her a kiss before I take her hand walking to the elevator. “So where are we going?” I ask impatiently knowing she won’t tell me. She gives me a look that says you know what my answer is.

“You’ll see soon enough” I sigh

“Fineeee don’t tell me i’ll just die of curiosity” She laughs at my antics

“Well curiosity did kill the cat,” she says back. Just then the elevator doors open and I put my arm around her waist as we walk out and are greeted by the security guard who i know pretty well since i’ve been living here a long time.

“Have a good night you two!” Paul says as we get into Larissa’s car.

“Thank you, Paul, we will” i smile back at him. I put my hand over onto Larissa’s thigh as she drives to wherever we’re going. We’ve only been driving for about fifteen minutes before Larissa pulls the car into a bowling alley parking lot. I laugh lightly

“Really baby?” I look over at her smiling actually thinking it’s adorable. She smiles back at me knowing I’m just messing with her

“Yes really” She pulls the car into park and moves to get out before I put my arm out.

“Wait, wait” I say quickly before getting out and shuffling around the car to open the door for her. She laughs at me again.

“You’re such a gentleman” I close the door and give her a kiss.

“I know right who knew i was so romantic” I say jokingly and she giggled at my stupid joke. I put my arm around her waist and pull her close while we walk in. We get up there and Larissa apparently already made a lane reservation. I look over at her questioning because it’s not a busy night and we usually just assume there will be a lane open.

“I knew you would try to pay so I wanted to pay ahead of time” She explains. Of course she did, she knows that even when I try to save up I always pay for her for no reason. I kiss her quickly just because i can and we grab our shoes and move to the lane she reserved. We play for about an hour and a half enjoying being together and being slightly competitive, not actually caring for the outcome. By the end of our time she had ended up winning only because she was cheating though! she was very distracting so it’s not my fault.

“I wonnn!” she sings gloating. I pout at her not being serious. “awww did my big strong man lose?” she says sarcastically, pulling herself to me. I roll my eyes playing along ��you can win me a stuffed animal at the claw machine. How about that?” I laugh loudly at that but agree knowing she probably does actually want the stuffed animal.

“Okay I’ll win u one which one do you want love?” She looks over them and then excitedly points to a small bee.

“That one please” she says sweetly wrapping her arms around me and resting her head on my shoulder. she gives me a kiss on the cheek for good luck. It actually takes me a couple tries but I do end up getting her the bee. She takes it with a big smile on her face and even though I just lost horribly to my girlfriend I won for seeing her smile. I take her hand and we walk out. “Okay now we have one last stop” she says, glancing over to me.

“Dinner?” I say smiling. she laughs a little knowing I’d be hungry.

“Yes but i’m not telling you what restaurant” I nod just happy for food. As soon as we get on the street I already know it’s my favorite restaurant. I smile happy she knows because my favorite things change constantly. I squeeze her thigh lightly to get her attention. She looks over smiling knowingly. “Do you want to take it to go or sit in the restaurant?” She asks knowing I get tired of all the people around me although I never get tired of her.

“takeout?” I smile, just wanting to be with her and not have the anxiety of thinking about if I pass or not or how if I'm acting manly enough. I never feel that way just around Larissa. I'm just me with her. I don't have to think about passing or acting a certain way just to be seen as valid.

“Of course honey” She is always so understanding since I always talk to her about my gender dysphoria and how draining it is. We quickly go in to grab the food and then make our way back home. We move in a comfortable silence up to our floor level. Once we make it to the kitchen we take our food out and eat at our table together smiling and talking about the stupid things that the kids did or details about the trip. I could never tire of being with her, everything we do, from going out to just sitting at our table. It's always my favorite.

“Y/nn” Larissa says clearly having tried to get my attention multiple times. I had been staring at her talk about something Wednesday did or didn’t do. I sorta of got lost in thought early on. I blush having been caught clearly not paying attention.

“I’m sorry love I didn’t mean to get distracted” I say sincerely. she smiles, not mad at all.

“whatcha thinking about?” she says genuinely curious.

“Just about how much I love you and spending time with you” Now she was the one blushing.

“Of course you were” she laughs jokingly “I love you too and I love every second we spend together” We lean across the table slightly to give the other a kiss.

“You’re adorable and I love you so much, but I’m also tired” I laugh

“do you wanna go to bed?” I smiled. If I didn’t know she was a shapeshifter, I would've thought she was a mind reader.

“Lead the way” I take her hand and we walk to our room changing into our pajamas. I crawl into bed waiting for Larissa to join me after taking her makeup off. She comes into the room, turns off the lights and gets into the bed with me going back to the spot she was this morning in my neck. She lightly kisses where she is before leaning up to actually kiss me. I deepen our kiss and put my hands onto her face pulling her closer before pulling away a few minutes later. I give her another small kiss, not able to get enough of her.

“Goodnight my love, sleep well” I say quietly

“Goodnight honey I love you” she says laying back down onto my chest.

“I love you too” I say and hug her close before drifting to sleep.

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #wednesday #wednesday addams #jenna ortega #gwendolyn christie #larissa weems x ftm!reader

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delicrieux · 4 years ago

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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 23: PRETTY BOY

emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.

─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: a lil over 7k.

author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results).

You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be.

The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.

Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.

In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children.

noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T

yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me

feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(

You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.

“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.

why does she sound like goofy

The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.

pack it up yandere simulator

idk whats going on but i think im into it?

villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC

“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”

More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”

“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”

“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”

“SD-what now?” Dream questions.

“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”

“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”

“Guess, Sherlock.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.

“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”

“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.

“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim.

Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.

“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”

If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.

“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.

“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.

Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”

i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me

^already too late for me bro

As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.

Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.

He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”

He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.

“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”

“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”

“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.

“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.

“HEY!”

“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”

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Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.

Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.

Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!

“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.

“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.

“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”

Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.

“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”

Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”

“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”

“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”

“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”

“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”

“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.

“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”

“You were not--”

“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”

“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”

“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do.

Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.

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“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”

“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.

BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS yns_fishnets donated 5$ mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!

Your fishnets have a point!

“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.

“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.

“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”

“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”

“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”

“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”

“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”

“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”

“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”

“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.

“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.

“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.

“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”

NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK

MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T

“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”

“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”

“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”

“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”

finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for

i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)

the bis won

“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”

“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”

Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”

“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”

“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus.

“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”

“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.

“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”

Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping.

You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.

That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex.

“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”

“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”

“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.

“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”

“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”

“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”

“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!

“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”

Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”

“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”

“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.

“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”

“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”

A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.

“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”

He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him.

y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards

Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.

“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”

“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”

“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.

“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”

“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”

“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.

“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red.

“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.

“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.

“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.

In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.

“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”

“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).

yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder

queen stop its embarrassing

bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3

More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.

The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.

it’s happening!!!!

omg omg omg omg

VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC

You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”

pack it up light yagami

this has awoken something in me.

^ same

The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.

Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.

It’s a knife.

In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.

Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.

Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.

So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.

“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling.

You grin, “I was looking for something.”

Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.

“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.

“A knife.”

“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”

“Yes.”

“No!”

You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.

i love women

if evil bad...why seggy?

You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.

You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!”

“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out.

“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”

“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”

“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.

hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom

hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly

mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn

Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.

You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”

“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”

“Is it because you’re bald?”

“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.

You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.

You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.

“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”

You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.

“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.

“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.

“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.

“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”

“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.

“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.

Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.

“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.

“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.

only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3

corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever

the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite

“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.

You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”

“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.

“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”

“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.

“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you.

You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage.

“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”

“No fucking clue.”

“Y/n?” She tries again.

“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”

“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.

Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.

You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her.

“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”

“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”

You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”

“SHIT!”

Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”

“I’m not Impostor!”

“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”

They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.

“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”

“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”

“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”

“I’d never do that, baby.”

Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement.

“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.”

Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”

“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”

“Holy shit.”

“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.

“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.

“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.

“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.

“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”

“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”

“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”

Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”

“No, she does.” James chimes.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”

More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.

Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fic #corpse husband social media au #social media au #myso #make you say oh #quackity #dream smp #corpse x y/n #imagine #imagines #reader #xreader

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the-passenger-if · 3 years ago

Note

A prompt for the angst but!! How would the ros deal/treat/react to a newman that had frequent panic attacks? (If your comfortable answering, and no ones asked before) I imagine since the whole reason we're on earth is because we're trying to hide from this eldritch diety who wants to inhale us whole, and to top it all off newman doesnt even have enough energy to leave. That would cause any being an extreme of stress and anxiety. Especially after Tzr'nekre actually finally locates us

combining it with

if its not too spoilery, how would the ROs react to the MC waking up from a nightmare (say, one in which the RO got possessed by tzr'nekre?) and MC just clings to them, crying, after waking up, and refusing to explain but its obvious they had a terrible nightmare?

This isn’t what Fiama imagined when she was awaken by Newman’s warm face pressing against her breasts, ragged breathing and all. She wants to grab a hold of their head, hold them there, but as her hand brushes their cheek, she finds it damp. Maybe with sweat, maybe with tears.

“Baby?” she asks in a hushed whisper. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

The only reply she gets is a stuttering intake of breath. And then her partner’s arms are sneaking around her—one under her neck, the other around her waist—and Newman is squeezing her tight.

Fiama is strong, she has always been. Her mother once told her—not in kind terms—that she truly took after her father’s sisters; their arms, made to keep children from ripping one another’s eyes out, their legs to carry drunken husbands back home. Now, trapped in Newman’s strong embrace, she feels like the type of dainty, unobtrusive creature her mom wished she had grown into.

She takes a deep breath—as deep as she's able to within her lover’s tight grip—and tries again. “Babe… you’re… crushing me.”

The hold eases up an instant later, but Newman doesn’t let go. They bury their wet face in Fiama’s neck, still silent. It’s alarming to say the least, but she keeps her voice calm. “Are you hurting?” Newman shakes their head. “Are you sad?” She hugs them, feels them shaking in her arms—Newman doesn’t shake like this. “Are you scared?” She didn’t want to sound so flabbergasted (so ‘judgy’ her mother would say) but she can’t help it.

Once again, Newman doesn’t answer, but they do bury their face deeper into Fiama. It takes her by surprise; they have always seemed so unaffected by everything…

She hugs them tight and says the only thing she can think of, “I’m here, babe. And I’ll always be. I don’t know what or who is making you feel like this, but you aren’t alone. I’m with you.” She kisses the top of their head, murmuring every promise she knows she can keep.

A few minutes later, Newman is fast asleep again.

---

Sleeping next to another person in a bed that wasn’t made to be shared by two adults is uncomfortable, but it was late and Newman hadn’t brought their bike, ignoring that Joaquin’s car was at the shop, and Lucia had taken hers that night.

It’s ok, Jonny thinks to himself while he stares at the ceiling, we’ll just wait until my folks leave for work tomorrow. It doesn’t have to get awkward for anyone.

When was the last time he’d shared a bed? Probably when he was around twelve and Quino got scared by a storm and woke him up in the middle of the night, cold hands slipping under the sheets and touching the back of his neck. Dumbass always did the same thing, no matter how many times Jonny punched him to dissuade him. Of course Jonny could never stay mad at his twin for long, and they would share the bed in the end—Jonny grousing about Quino’s cold hands and Quino whining about Jonny hogging the covers.

As if invoking his brother, he feels hands around his neck now; cold, sweaty hands. Even though they don't belong to Quino, the way they’re clinging to him is pretty reminiscent of the way his twin used to squeeze him whenever lightning stroke too close.

“Are you ok?” he asks stupidly. Of course they aren’t; Newman is scared. “What is it?” he tries again, but Newman says nothing, they only keep tightening their grasp around Jonny. He takes their hands and tries to free himself. “Newman, you’re going to choke me.”

Slowly, those cold fingers loosen, giving him a chance to sit up.

“Don’t go!”

“Hush,” Jonny hisses. “Damn it, Newman. Remember we aren’t alone.” He takes the hand that is now gripping the front of his shirt and tries to hold it, but Newman doesn’t budge. “Please,” he whispers.

“Don’t go,” it’s the barely audible plea he gets as a reply.

“I won’t,” he assures them. After another second, Newman lets go, and Jonny takes the hand and gently rubs it between his. “Come here,” he whispers, and Newman doesn’t need to be told twice. They get between his legs and rest on their side and against Jonny’s chest. Jonny takes the covers and pulls them over both of them, and there, with an arm around Newman’s shoulder, he can feel their muscles begin to slowly relax.

---

Roach didn’t usually do this; lying down in bed while their conquests sleep. They had realized that there was so much one could do to pass the time, and watching people drooling was amusing just the first dozen times.

They turn another page of the magazine they stole from that gas station three towns over, the one with the old, balding clerk that had given Roach the evil eye from the moment they dared to set a foot in his territory.

The light is off but that’s ok because Roach doesn’t need it to read, the same way they don’t need it to sneak glances at Newman’s sleeping form. It’s something they do, they tell themself, to pass the time, and not because Newman’s face is nice to look at or anything like that. They aren’t expecting to find their companion awake the next time they look their way, least of all with a terrified look set on their face.

Roach opens their mouth to ask what’s going on, but the words die out as they are wrapped in a tight embrace. The fact that they were so distracted by Newman’s expression that their reflexes vanished for a hot minute, says something. Something Roach doesn’t want to acknowledge right now, so they don’t. Instead, they let their body go limp in Newman’s arms, let them squeeze and squash until they seem to come out of their trance.

“R-Roach?”

“Yes?” they ask in return.

“Are you… ok?”

Roach wriggles to put some distance between Newman and them—as much as their companion’s steel grip allows, anyway—and runs a hand over Newman’s face, wiping off the sweat. “Just a couple broken ribs,” they say, “I’ll live. What about you? What had you panicking like this?”

Newman retracts from those words like a shy snail. It really takes Roach by surprise. They can’t think of many things that might scare Newman, which at least makes the list of suspects quite short.

“Hey,” they whisper in a way that they hope sounds both unaffected and reassuring, “I would know, remember? There’s only you and me here, no third roommate. You can relax.”

Their words, true as they are, do very little to calm Newman down, so Roach sighs and nuzzles against their jaw. “Squeeze away then,” they mutter and kiss Newman’s skin. “I’ll be the prettiest stress ball you’ll ever have.”

---

It isn’t a gentle awakening. Horizon’s muddled thoughts crash into one another as the Domini unsuccessfully tries to slip away from the tight embrace they are being subjected to. What’s going on? their mind asks, half asleep, half panicking.

Memories from last night come back to them as if slogging through a swamp; they remember having dinner with Newman, chatting and somehow ending up in bed together. They remember the tenderness of the moment, the way they felt like they could melt as Newman and they cuddled together...

Horizon strains their neck trying to look over their shoulder, but even with the rays of moonlight seeping through the window, the only thing they have an eyeful of it’s their own dark curls. Newman’s chest is pressed against Horizon’s back and now that the Domini is fully awake, they can feel the other’s racing heartbeat. It scares Horizon, it makes them want to ask what’s going on, what happened to Newman, what, what, what…

They fight those urges. They take a deep breath, find one of Newman’s hands and softly cover it with theirs. “You are in my cabin,” they whisper, “you are in ranch 48, in Luna Ridge. We had diner and I asked you to spend the night. Remember that?”

There’s a long pause, then Horizon feels them nodding against their back. A couple seconds later the iron grip eases up. It gives the Domini a chance to turn around, and very gently press their forehead against Newman’s damp one. “Deep breaths,” they whisper and then are doing just that, hoping Newman will follow their example. An instant later, they are.

Feeling Newman’s muscles relax as they get their breathing under control brings a smile to the Domini’s face.

#ask #tp fiama #tp jonny #tp roach #tp horizon

256 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 4 years ago

Note

hiii i've just spent the last 36-48 hours reading your works and oh dear do i lOVE your writing and this universe :') . i dont know if you are taking requests but i think it would be kinda interesting (and low key hilarious) if you would write the lions reacting/reading thirst tweets? idk if this is a dumb idea or not but just like some of them reacting to them and going "well i'm actually gay/married so.. no!.. but thank you!"

Part two of the six-month celebration, everyone! Thank you thank you THANK YOU to everyone who submitted comments--I had over 60 come in, and while I couldn’t include them all, reading them was a true joy. The Lion Pride channel was something I started writing on a whim; I never expected it to grow like this <3 Much love to all of you!

TW for alcohol mentions and thirst tweets (nothing explicit)

“Why do I always fear for my life around you?” Sirius asked as Marlene settled into a cushy chair to the side of their table.

She smiled, catlike, and crossed her legs primly. “Because only Finn appreciates me.”

“That’s just the Aries connection, Cap,” Finn said with a smug grin.

“We’re both Leos, Harzy.”

“Eh, close enough.”

Remus raised an eyebrow at her. “You should probably start asking questions before this devolves further, Marley. He’s gonna keep digging himself a hole and we won’t get anything done.”

Marlene’s smile returned with a vengeance. “That’s where you’re wrong, Loops! We’re not doing any questions at all today.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Read it and weep.” She tossed a small posterboard at him like a frisbee; he caught it, barely, though both Talker and Sirius had to duck out of the way. Marlene faced the camera and winked. “Welcome back to Lion Pride, everyone! Today I’m here with Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Thomas Walker, and our wonderful cubs to react to your comments on our videos!”

“Bet you thought we’d never see ‘em, huh?” James asked.

“The comments fall into four categories: thirsty, funny, mean, and sweet. I will be reading two of those groups, and my lovely fiancée will be reading the others because she is the human embodiment of sunshine.”

“If you make Dorcas read the mean ones, I’ll be sad,” Leo laughed.

Marlene gave him a look of disbelief. “You think I’m passing up a chance to roast you guys? Puh-lease. We’re starting off strong with some thirsty, thirsty comments! Loops, you’re up first.”

“This is going to be fun,” Sirius said, leaning back in his chair.

She cleared her throat, then turned a smoldering look on their table. “I didn’t know I had a freckle kink, but then Remus Lupin appeared and now here we are.”

“Oh, shit,” Remus muttered, covering his face with his hands as the others howled with laughter.

“Lupin has been looking sexy as hell on the bench for years now. I'm so glad people are simping over him like he deserves,” Marlene read. “And there’s a little heart emoji, just for you.”

“This is every one of my nightmares come to life,” Remus said, though his voice was muffled by his forearms.

James lifted his glasses to swipe away the tears of mirth that had gathered in his eyes. “Are you kidding? This is everything I have ever wanted.”

“Y’know, it is so good to see people drooling over this hot piece of ass at last,” Finn sighed, reaching over to ruffle Remus’ hair as his face turned bright red.

“One more, and it’s a good one,” Marlene warned. She licked her lips, then had to take a moment to laugh before speaking. “I feel like Remus Lupin is the type of guy to bake you muffins—”

“Accurate,” Leo said.

“—but is also a kinky motherfucker.”

Remus’ mouth dropped open as the table erupted into cheering. Logan pumped both fists in the air and Sirius was laughing so hard no sound came out; Talker sank so low in his chair that only his head and shoulders were visible as he applauded.

“Why do people comment these things?” Remus asked, barely above a whisper. “Holy fuck, I’m engaged!”

“Speaking of…” Marlene raised her eyebrows and Sirius smile drooped.

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes. Buckle up, Cap!” She rolled her shoulders out. “Get someone who looks at you the way Sirius Black looks at a hockey puck.”

Remus snorted; James’ laugh was so short and sharp that it set everyone else off as well. “That sounds like I have a hockey puck fetish!” Sirius complained. “Which is so, so not true!”

Finn made an ‘ehh’ noise, and he leaned around Remus to smack the back of his head. “Hey!”

“Next one!” Marlene announced. “Sirius Black was my bi awakening.”

A beat of silence passed. “Is that it?” Sirius ventured, looking nervous.

“Yep.”

“Aw, man, that one’s lame,” Talker said, shaking his head. “Everyone thinks Cap is a little hot.”

Remus shot him a look. “A little?”

“Fair. Marley, I dare you to find one person who wouldn’t tap that.”

She rolled her eyes. “Me, though that dovetails nicely into the last one for our lovely captain. Ahem. I understand why Remus is with Sirius: he's hot as hell and rich, I'd hit that too.”

“Oh, fuck, you’re right,” Leo gasped. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Finn and Logan turned to him in unison with a mix of disbelief and offense written all over their faces. “Dude.”

“First of all, Leo, you found yourself two hot rich boys,” Remus interrupted. “Second, that comment is forgetting that he’s funny, and smart, and nice, and—”

Seconds after the initial cover, Sirius took his hand off Remus’ mouth as if he’d been burned. “Did you just lick me?”

“Moving on! This is in all caps, so be prepared.” Marlene shuffled through her posterboards and turned to Leo with an ominous smile. He glanced toward the camera in mild fear. “What does a person have to do to get some hockey player ass?! Like why is Leo Knut so fine?!”

“Amen!” Logan called as Leo blushed.

“According to six of the seven people at this table, the answer to that first question is to be a hockey player,” Talker laughed. “The world may never know the answer to the second, sadly.”

“Lily could play hockey,” James said, resting his chin on his hand. Every single one of the others rolled their eyes. “She could! She’d be so good at it, too.”

“We know,” Finn groaned. “You only mention it every other day.”

“Speaking of the lovely Mrs. Potter,” Marlene began with a sly look as she held up a new card. “Do James and Lily Potter need a third? Asking for me specifically.”

James paused, dumbstruck, while the others drummed their hands on the table. “…no?”

A general sigh of disappointment went up. “I was really hoping he’d say yes,” Leo said.

“Ask Lily next time,” Remus recommended.

James turned to him and blinked slowly. “What are you insinuating, Loops?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Don’t worry, James, you’ll like this one,” Marlene assured him. “James Potter is the ultimate dilf.”

“You’re damn right I am!” James whooped. “Vindication, bitches!”

“Marley, what have you done?” Talker whispered. “He’ll never shut up about that, now.”

“Oh, never,” James all but cackled. “I’m officially a dilf, you guys!”

“I hate you,” Sirius groaned.

“Tremzy, are you ready? We’ve got a couple very special ones for you,” Marlene said.

“Anything to get us out of this hell,” Logan begged.

“In that case: Logan Tremblay’s ass is better than Sidney Crosby’s. I said what I said.”

A pleased flush rose to his cheeks as Finn and Leo high-fived over his head. “Really? Thank you!”

“And they would be correct!” Finn announced. “Best ass in the league.”

“Come on,” Remus scoffed, though he was smiling.

Marlene cleared her throat to get their attention. “I don’t think I can legally read this on air without being censored or getting the video taken down, but…”

She turned the board around; all seven of them leaned forward to read it, then slowly looked at Logan, who turned vivid red. “Mon dieu. Is that—someone commented that on a video? Like, for people to see?”

“I feel like I need to bleach my eyes,” Sirius said just as Finn began shaking with silent laughter.

Leo’s face fell. “You wrote that, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Finn wheezed, scooting forward to fist-bump Marlene. “We wanted to see what you guys would say. Fuckin’ hell, your faces.”

“Alright, Talkie, are you ready?” Marlene asked around her laughter. “Seeing Thomas Walker with a baby makes me want to have his babies…please hit me up.”

He held up his index finger and took a second to laugh before responding. “If that’s Noelle, yes. If that’s anyone else, I’m flattered, but absolutely not.”

Logan made a face. “Ew.”

“We have two more,” Marlene warned. “For some very special people that aren’t here today, but I think you’ll like them anyway.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “I don’t trust the look on your face.”

“Daddy Dumo makes me swoon.”

A muddle of horrified noises echoed through the studio as all seven of them cringed. “Oh, my god, that’s my dad!” Logan yelped, covering his ears. Sirius looked vaguely ill and Remus’ shoulders crept toward his ears; James shuddered.

“The worst part is, we all know he can get it,” Finn said with a grimace. “God, I feel like I just heard someone talking about my parents having sex.”

“I’m sure he’ll love to hear that,” Marlene laughed. “Last one, from one of our truth or drinks.”

Remus went pale half a second too late. “N—”

“Hope Lupin is a milf.”

A broken noise escaped his mouth and he clamped his hand over it while Talker rubbed his back in sympathy. Sirius shook his head. “Somehow, that’s worse than Dumo’s.”

“Whoever sent that in, show some respect!” Leo said indignantly as Remus bonked his forehead against the table. “Hope Lupin is a lovely woman!”

“I think they noticed that particular fact,” Marlene pointed out, earning herself several scandalized shouts of her name and a whine from Remus. “That’s all we have for thirst comments! Are you ready for some funny ones?”

“Anything,” Remus pleaded. “I am begging you, anything else.”

Marlene shook her head as she stood, still smiling, and kissed Dorcas on the cheek when she entered the frame. “Go for it, love.”

“Dorcas!” they all cheered, lighting up immediately.

“Hey, guys, it’s been a while!” She curled up in Marlene’s vacant spot and took her own posterboards out from underneath the seat. “Alright, let’s rock and roll. Pascal Dumais is the team dad and nothing will change my mind, and Tremzy is the annoying youngest child.”

“That is so accurate,” Sirius laughed, leaning just out of range of Logan’s playful punch. “Whoever commented that has no idea how right they are.”

“We’ve got a whole sibling dynamic thing going on,” Talker agreed. “Tremzy’s the baby of the family, Cap is the quietly chaotic middle child, and Pots is the older brother that starts shit and inevitably gets blamed for however out-of-control it gets.”

Dorcas nodded. “You are one hundred percent correct. In a similar vein: Pots was the dad jokes friend before he was even a dad.”

“Painfully so,” Leo confirmed, shaking his head as they all groaned in agreement. James looked rather smug about the whole thing. “So many puns.”

“Oh, you’ll like this one,” Dorcas mused as she drew a new card. “If Tremzy looked directly into my eyes for even two seconds, all of my problems would be solved. I am sure of it.”

“Yes,” Finn and Leo said in unison.

“It’s something about the eyes, I think,” James added. “They just stand out so much that it’s a little startling straight-on.”

Logan looked to the camera and stared at it, unblinking; it zoomed in slightly on his face. “Everything will be fine,” he said with mock solemnity. “Your problems are solved.”

“Well, that was terrifying,” Sirius said drily. “Got any more for us, Ms. Meadowes?”

“Of course I do! We’ve got quite a few for Loops and Leo.” She took a sip of her water before getting comfortable again. “My favorite thing about these videos is that we can all see Loops get steadily buffer as the season goes on. Good for you, king!”

“Flex! Flex! Flex!” the six of them chanted; Remus rolled his eyes, but slid his sweater sleeve to his elbow and flexed his forearm, resulting in enough hoots and hollers that they could probably be heard a block away. Talker fake-swooned into Leo’s arms and Remus lightly whacked him on the shoulder.

“Remus Lupin looks like he has squishable cheeks,” Dorcas read aloud.

“He does!” James cooed, scooting over and reaching out.

Remus narrowed his eyes. “I swear to god I’ll bite you.”

Sirius cupped his face between his palms and kissed his nose, then pinched both his cheeks gently. “Ta-da!”

“How many of these do we have?” Remus asked, though his voice was a bit muffled by Sirius’ hands.

“Just one more for you, and it’s my personal favorite.” Dorcas assured him. “I love how the team probably had no impulse control until Loops joined.”

Sirius let go of his face and dissolved into laughter as Finn nearly fell on the floor. “Oh my—you think he has impulse control?” Talker slapped the edge of the table as he shook his head. “Absolutely not. Hell no, Loops is the first person to do stupid shit with us.”

“Yeah, I just don’t get caught,” Remus added around his own laughter. “Everyone thinks I’m such a hardass goody-two-shoes and it lets me get away with so much more than you delinquents.”

“Speaking of delinquents,” Dorcas continued. “This one is from our ‘Taste Testing Sexy Alcohol’ video: ah, yes, now I know how to do a body shot. 10/10, very educational video.”

“Do not take educational advice from us,” Finn blurted instantly. “I know this is a joke, but please exercise caution. That video was a ton of fun but a nightmare to recover from.”

Sirius winced at the memory. “I took two naps and then wished for death for a full day.”

“On a lighter note, who’s ready for some Knutty appreciation?” Dorcas smiled at her cards. “I've only had Leo Knut for a season and half, but if anything happened to him, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.”

“Big mood,” four of them said simultaneously.

Leo turned to the camera with a concerned look on his face. “That’s a meme reference, but are y’all okay?”

“No,” Dorcas answered. “Especially not this next person: Sometimes I do something productive and then I remember @LeoKnut is a 19 year old professional athlete who radiates happiness and with two of the hottest boyfriends the good lord has made, and then my bowl of packaged ramen seems less impressive.”

“I’m proud of your ramen,” Leo said, even as the corners of his mouth twitched in a smile. “And I appreciate the note about my boyfriends, because they are definitely the hottest people the good lord has made.”

Talker stuck his lip out in a pout. “Rude.”

“Sorry, Talkie, I’m biased.”

“Last one before Marlene comes back, so you’d better enjoy it!” Dorcas announced. “Did the Lions effectively utilize girl power when they wrecked toxic masculinity, yes or yes?”

“Can we utilize girl power?” Remus wondered, resting his shin on his hand. “Isn’t that exclusively for, y’know, women?”

“We can utilize himbo power,” Finn suggested.

James gave him an offended look. “Not all of us are himbos!”

“Okay, but you definitely are.”

“I am not!” James held up his fingers to count. “There are only, like, three qualifications, right? I might be strong, hot, and respectful, but I’m not dumb so it doesn’t count!”

“Pots,” Remus said quietly, hiding his smile for half a second. “Buddy, that was four things.”

James paused, then sighed in resignation. “Ah, fuck, I’m a himbo.”

“You really are.”

“At least we don’t promote toxic masculinity.”

They raised their waterbottles in a ‘cheers’ motion as Marlene and Dorcas switched spots; Marlene stretched her arms over her head and grabbed the new boards. “I’m back, beloved himbos. Talker, Leo, you are beloved by the people and have no mean comments. Cap, we’re starting with you.”

“Are they actually mean mean?” he asked.

“Sirius Black seems like a little bitch. Not in a bad way, necessarily. He just. Seems like he'd be a little bitch."

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Oh, okay. That answers one question.”

“He’s not a little bitch,” Leo said. “Pouty on occasion, but not a little bitch.”

Remus gave him a long look, then shook his head. “Yeah, I mean, you teared up a little when Hattie got a splinter in her paw but didn’t even yell when you almost sliced your finger off while making dinner.”

“Duality of man,” Finn said sagely.

Marlene cocked an eyebrow. “Finn O’Hara’s hair kind of reminds me of Garfield the Cat.”

“Alright, that’s just rude.”

“It does not!” Logan gasped at the same time Leo made a noise of agreement.

Finn turned to him in utter betrayal. “Nutter Butter, I thought you liked my hair!”

“I do!” Leo defended. “But they’re not entirely wrong. It’s very orange in the sun.”

“I’m never going to forget that,” Finn muttered, staring at the floor.

“Ugh, it bothers me so much that Lupin just objectifies Black all the time!” Marlene read in a high-pitched, nasal voice. “No respect in that relationship!”

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Pardon?”

Marlene stared at it for a moment, then shrugged. “Yeah, I have no idea what videos they were watching. Do you feel objectified in your relationship, Cap? I know the opinion of total strangers really bothers you a lot.”

“I’m really glad you picked up on that,” he said with false gravity. “Yeah, it’s such a bummer when my hot fiancé says I look nice. Such a blow to my self-esteem.”

“That was supposed to be a roast against me,” Remus said, looking amused. “Talk about backfiring.”

“Are you ready, Pots? This one’s pretty brutal,” Marlene warned. James nodded and Finn linked their hands for moral support. “James Potter is a swiftie and you cannot tell me otherwise.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “…yeah? That’s true? T Swift is a regular occurrence on the locker room playlist.”

“Also, James Potter looks like someone who would think black pepper was spicy.”

“Now that one is mean,” he complained as the others burst out laughing. “It’s not my fault I have sensitive taste buds!”

“Oh, honey,” she said under her breath as she took a new card. “Get ready, Tremzy. This first one is short and sweet: Logan Tremblay looks like a lesbian.”

“That is not an insult,” Logan laughed. “Every lesbian I know is rad as fuck. I wish I looked that good in a leather jacket.”

“I just realized Logan doesn’t look short cause he’s next to bunch of hockey players, he’s short cause he’s 5’9.”

The smile slipped off his face in a millisecond as the others roared with laughter. “Quoi?”

“Oh, she got you good,” Sirius gasped, patting his shoulder clumsily. “Holy fuck, can I frame that?”

“That’s not what it says.” An edge of distress appeared in Logan’s voice. “Marley, that’s not what it says.”

James sat on the floor with the heels of his palms pressed against his eyes. “You’re fucking—whoever sent that in, you are my new favorite person. Jesus.”

“Do you need a second to recover before we move on?” Dorcas asked as she draped her arms over the back of Marlene’s chair. “The next one is our biggest section by far.”

“It’s the sweet ones, yeah?” Leo asked.

“Right.”

“It might be a good idea to do those before Lo spontaneously combusts.”

“Agreed!” She swapped with Marlene and hauled a short stack of posterboards out from their hiding place with a smile. “A hug from Dumo can probably solve any issue.”

“Facts,” Logan said. “I could really use one right about now, too.”

“Has anyone noticed how blue Leo Knut’s eyes are?”

“Yes,” the six of them chorused.

Finn gave him a dreamy look. “Every single day.”

“When I first read this one, I thought I wrote it,” Dorcas said with a snort. “Someone give Marlene a raise. No reason why, I just love her.”

“Can we do that?” Sirius asked, looking toward the camera crew. “Can we lobby to give you guys raises? Because you definitely deserve it after all the bullshit you deal with to make these videos watchable, and Marlene, you’ve drawn the short end of the stick ninety percent of the time.”

“How?” she called off-screen.

“You have to actually talk to us and try to get answers.”

“Fair.”

Dorcas finished scribbling something down on her notepad. “Just making a note of this conversation for future reference. Moving on! Sirius Black and James Potter are a prime example of hockey husbands, and I adore them.”

“The ironic part of that is that we’re both in committed relationships, but we’re basically married,” James mused.

Remus shook his head. “You guys are so married. Lily wanted to get you matching rings for your birthday, Pots.”

“That would be so cool!” they said in perfect unison. Remus turned to the camera and spread his hands in a case in point motion.

Dorcas stifled her laughter before moving on. “This one is cute. Give Remus Lupin all the hugs! I feel like I could tell him he’s an inspiration and he’d be so nice about it—” She paused to glance up at them. “—this next bit is in parentheses: all the LGBT Lions give me that vibe, but Cap and Knutty are super intimidating so I wouldn’t have the guts.”

Leo’s face fell and Sirius’ eyebrows pitched. “I’m not intimidating!” Leo protested. “I thought we already went over that! Loops gives fantastic hugs, but I want some, too.”

“He definitely deserves all the hugs in the world, but I promise I’m nice,” Sirius said, a bit softer than usual. “Is it because we’re tall?”

Dorcas half-shrugged. “Probably. It’s a little startling at first. Oh, I could’ve written this one, too: The Venn diagram of men I trust and the Gryffindor Lions is a full circle.”

Talker beamed at the camera. “Thank you!”

“So many hockey guys are such douchebags,” Logan said with a shake of his head. “I’m really glad we don’t do that shit.”

“Me, too.” Dorcas slid her old card under her chair. “Sirius Black’s hair looks so soft and I just want to touch it so bad.”

“It is so soft,” Remus agreed immediately. “You have no idea.”

“Everyone wants to touch Cap’s hair,” Finn said, sighing. “It’s so majestic.”

“I need a haircut.”

“No, you don’t,” Remus said as he tugged a stray curl. Sirius hummed.

“This one is from the interview some you did with Jules and Katie: these hockey boys being so soft with kids is my aesthetic! Like, it’s just so adorable to see these big, intimidating dudes be so, so sweet! Love them all!” She turned the card for them to see. “And then they added a heart at the end.”

“It’s impossible to be around those kids and not be happy,” James said. “They’re just too cute and wonderful.”

“Yeah, I love kids.” Finn nodded. “Especially the Dumais and Jules. They’re a hoot.”

“Jules would die if he heard you say that,” Remus laughed. “The hero worship is still going strong with most of you.”

“This one made me laugh when I first read it, but it’s really sweet,” Dorcas informed them. “Anyone else feel like we were deceived these past five years into thinking Cap was this hard-ass man, when in reality he's a cuddle bug who definitely captures and releases spiders instead of squishing them?”

“You weren’t deceived, I was just closeted,” Sirius said. “Also, I absolutely squish spiders.”

Remus gave him a look. “No, you do not. That’s my job. I’m the catch and release person if I can get away with it.”

James shook his head. “The third week of practices you saw a spider and threw me at it.”

“You did what?” Finn asked.

“There was a spider in my stall,” Sirius sighed, looking as if he would rather be anywhere else. “And Pots and I were talking so I didn’t see it until I almost sat on it, and my brain decided the only logical thing to do would be to grab him and shove him toward the spider.”

“That was after you shrieked,” Talker added. “Like, literally shrieked. I’ve never heard anyone make a noise like that.”

“Alright, alright,” Sirius grumbled. “We get it, I don’t like spiders.”

Remus shrugged. “But you are a cuddle bug. They got that part right.”

“We’re in the final two!” Dorcas announced. “This one has some pictures to go with it, so it’s on my phone. Fuck Romeo and Juliet, I want what these bitches have.”

“It’s us!” Leo cooed as the phone made its way down the line. In the upper corner of the screen, the photo appeared—it had been taken in New York, and Logan’s whole face was alight with happiness as Leo and Finn each pressed a kiss to his cheek. The camera caught him mid-laugh, so his eyes were closed and his chin was tucked slightly into Finn’s Strand hoodie.

“That’s my screensaver,” Finn said with a grin, pulling his phone out and turning it toward the camera without moving away from Leo. “One of my favorites.”

“I forgot you took that one,” Logan murmured. He hooked his chin over Leo’s shoulder and kissed his cheek; the four others at the table gave soft are you seeing this? looks to the camera and Dorcas smiled.

“Pots, I think yours is next. I hate to break it to you, Talkie, but they didn’t get any of you and Noelle.”

“We don’t take a ton of pictures together,” Talker said as James took the phone. “I mean, we take a bunch of selfies, but we don’t live close enough to each other to actually post that often. What picture is it, J?”

James was staring down at the picture with an unbearably sweet expression. “It’s our wedding. That’s my favorite one, actually.”

Like Logan, they had been captured while laughing—Lily was bent slightly at the waist as James clapped, his glasses just as askew as the flower crown on her head. It was impossible to tell who had told the joke originally, but they were both radiant in the sunset.

“That’s a really good one,” Sirius said with an unreadable look on his face.

“Well, well, well, fancypants, you two got a video.” James wiggled his eyebrows and Remus leaned in to see.

“What kind of video? One of our tikt—oh. Oh, this is so cute.” He shifted his chair over as the short edit began to play. “D, who made this?”

“A fan.”

“It’s really impressive,” Sirius said without taking his eyes off the screen. The edit was a series of photos, both on and off the ice; Sirius knocking their helmets together, then Remus looking back over his shoulder, then both of them in the water playing chicken in the sun. It was a slideshow of their life and their love.

“Can you send that to me?” Remus asked when it was over. “Cause that’s super cool.”

“Sure thing. Are you guys ready for the last one?” When they all nodded, she drummed her fingers on the posterboard and cleared her throat. “Arthur appreciation hours. He deserves it after managing to control the team.”

A cheer went up—all seven stood and applauded, half-laughing and half-whooping. “Miracle worker!” Sirius called.

“Best coach in the league!” Finn added.

“Most tolerant man to ever walk the earth!” Remus raised his water in a toast and they tapped the plastic edges together, nearly spilling all over the table.

Dorcas’ eyes crinkled in a smile as she turned to the camera. “That’s it for today, Lions! Tune in next time for more content of our boys, and thank you for such wonderful comments!”

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stargazingthenightaway · 4 years ago

Text

See Something You Like? Part 3

Pairing: Rebels Rex x Reader

Word Count: 4.4K

Warning: NSFW 18+ Sexual tension, yearning, dirty thoughts, praise kink, size kink, Dom!Rex, slight predator/prey vibes

A/N: What. The. Fuck! This turned into a monster chapter! Buckle up people things are starting to heat up! Let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list.

Those words ring in your ears as you stare at Rex, his gold eyes pinning you in place, grip still gentle on your chin. He’s standing so close that you can feel the heat from his body, ghosting over you skin. You’re surprised that you chest is not touching his already, and it probably would be if you could remember how to breathe. He’d taken it away the moment his thumb started to caress along your jaw, adding trails of heat with each pass, branding your skin with his touch.

You know you can easily break out of his hold, but you don’t know if you’ll be able to have this, have him, all to yourself again, so you keep still, enjoying the sensation of his touch on your face. The calluses on his hand feel warm, made from years spent fighting and honing his skills to perfection. Skills he expertly used to outmaneuver and put you in a place under his power, his control and secretly that idea excites you. Rex is the one calling the shots, and you wonder if that was his intent all along. You break from Rex’s gaze, turning your head to survey the results from the match.

The targets are at a standstill, waiting for the simulation to be reset for the next person. At the centre of each is a perfectly placed shot, the edges marked with blaster residue and lightly smoking. The wispy tendrils curl into the air, taunting you as a reminder that your meagre shots were no match for Rex’s precision.

Beaten. Destroyed. Absolutely annihilated.

That’s how you’d describe your side of the outcome of this farce of a challenge. All in the hopes of preventing your wanton thoughts from being spoken aloud. Using an imaginary wager to try and play your emotions off. A false bet now made true. It must have been childs play for Rex to see through your flimsy ruse, and use that to his advantage. Going against someone like Rex, who has years more experience than you, hoping to win? What a fool’s wish. Now, you’re at his mercy.

There’s pressure on your chin as Rex turns your face back towards him, relaxed in his perusal of your form. “Now, what to do with you?” He leans back, placing his hands on his hips and giving you a very slow once over, admiring the view in front of him. There’s a steady beating against your ribs, the same beat that causes Rex’s eyes to linger at the pulse point at your throat, before finally lifting them to your face “So many possibilities.”

You watch his lips say one thing but hear his voice say another, and it makes you want. Oh, does it make you want, so many things. Things that you would only tell the most depraved part of yourself, before locking it up and throwing away the key. Things that make you toss and turn and cry for release. Things that you want to give to Rex, just so he can call you his good girl. Sadly, those thoughts are only fantasy, no matter how much Rex may flirt with you, or that you may burn for his touch, that’s all your thoughts will be. Fantasy. Bringing yourself back to reality is harder than you’d like it to be, but you do it anyway, shoving the words out of your mouth with a shaky smile on your face.

“We could always narrow those possibilities down to a couple.” You think for a moment before you have an idea. It might not be what you want, but you’ll still get to be near Rex for the foreseeable future. “What about this, I could finish your reports for a certain amount of time or polish your armour.”

Rex tilts his head like he’s contemplating the idea, reaching for his chin. You can hear the slight scratch of his beard as he moves his hand over the whiskers. It sends a delightful shudder through you as you imagine the beard burn he’d leave behind after spending some time between your thighs, a constant reminder of what he’d done every time you go to move. The throb between your legs continues to grow, fully on board with that idea. Curse your weak self-control!

Rex shakes his head and your heart droops. “Heh, while that sounds like a good idea, that’s something I’d give one of the shinies to do. Keep them occupied and out of my way. But you?” He suddenly leans forward, making sure there was no space between the two of you. “I’d rather keep you in my sights.” He shakes his head again, a lazy grin curving on his lips, “no I have something different in mind for you mesh'la.”

Mesmerized, you wait for him to continue, and as the silence grows you realize he’s waiting for you to ask, make you voice the question out loud. Ask him what he wants. With you.

There’s calm expectancy in his gaze as you finally voice the question you both need to hear to move on from this emotional limbo.

“What do you want?”

Rex is eyeing you like a nexu thats caught its prey as he braces his forearms by your head, caging you in, before leaning his head next to your ear, whispering those words that make your stomach clench with need.

“I want you.”

Any response you had shuts down in surprise. Someone could barge in at this very moment, crying out that the Empire was gone and you wouldn’t care. The world around you ceases to exist, focused only on the man in front of you. Of all the things Rex could ask for, never would you have imagined he’d want you, and to state it so boldly makes your knees weak. I want you. His words echo in your head I want you. I want you. I want YOU. Your mind is in a whirlwind as you try to collect your thoughts, unsure of how to move, if you can move, your body with this revelation.

As you drift in stunned silence, Rex takes in your appearance and is enchanted by what he sees. From your bright, wide eyes locked on him, to your rosy cheeks that have made a lovely flush down your chest. Stars it’s a sight, and your mouth. Parted in a slight ‘o’ from surprise, your lips are just begging to be kissed. All plush and perfect, tempting Rex to take a nibble, take a taste. He wonders what sounds he can get you to make just for him. Soon. Yes, he very much likes what he sees and wonders just how debauched you’ll look after he’s thoroughly taken you apart, ruined you for anyone else so that he will be the only one who can satisfy your cravings.

His cock twitches in his pants, thinking of how you hastened to obey his command to get into the shooting position, the ‘sir’ that fell from your lips sending a burning need through his veins to hear you say it again as he spread you wide, licking up your juices. As you were bouncing on his cock, begging him to go faster. Taking you from behind as you wanted more, please sir, more! All these enticing possibilities at his fingertips, and who was he to squander such an opportunity.

Turning his head towards you, he breathes you in, noticing how you shiver beneath him, already reacting to his presence. Rex can see your dazed expression, thoughts somewhere else, and decides he wants your attention back on him where it belongs.

“Your mind’s straying again mesh’la.” He says, lips lingering by your cheek. “Time to come back to me.”

Instead of a jolt to awareness, your awakening is more like a haze slowly lifting, Rex’s voice leading you back to the present. His voice is like that first cup of caf in the morning, dark, warm and knows how to get you going. His beard tickles your skin as you answer. “It does seem to do that.” You chuckle weakly, “It’s becoming a bad habit.” A bad habit that brings him close enough for you to ride his thigh you think to yourself.

“Hmm, then I’ll just have to be the one to break you of it before it becomes a problem.” One of Rex’s hands move from the wall and finds a new home on you hip, slowly dragging the fabric of your shirt up, exposing the sensitive skin beneath. He doesn’t bother to hide his glee when he hears the quiet squeak you utter, smirk forming on his lips that he knows you can feel.

“This bad habit of yours only seems to happen when I’m around. Am I really that bad that you’d need to think of something else?”

How could he think that! You blurt out an answer in your haste to reassure him that there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. “No! No, it’s not somethi-”

His smirk turns predatory and you realize you’ve walked into a trap.

“Ah, then someone.” The hand at your hip flexes “Do I make you wish someone else was here? Is that who your minds goes to?”

Rex’s voice deepens to a growl, challenging the idea that there could be someone other than him to have your attention, your affection. He can’t help the possessive feeling that claws at his chest that screams Mine! when he sees you, wanting to place you on his lap for all the base to see that you are his, not some jumped up pilot who can’t tell the difference between their dick and a gear stick.

He sounds jealous you think to yourself and Maker does that thought get you wet. As if he has anything to worry about.

Rex continues, his voice causing trembles to ripple through your body, that you know he can feel. “There was that pilot who was talking with you the other day…”

“It’s not him.” You don’t even hesitate to give your answer, wanting to dispel that idea before it ruins anything.

His hand relaxes, thumbs lazily circling on your skin. The feeling causes your eyes to flutter and lean into him “Then it is someone. Who is it then that has you so enraptured cyare?”

The growl has turned into a soothing rumble, helping you ease even further into his touch. The patterns Rex has been drawing slowly changing course, moving from your hip up to your waist, making his way up your torso. You keen when his fingers graze the underside of your breast, not going any further, just teasing you with his touch. Back and forth, back and forth. There is no way that he doesn’t know what his touch is doing to you, that your panties are coated in your juices, that you’re ready to just say ‘fuck it’ and drop to your knees to suck his dick. Anything to get him to stop pawing your and do something.

As if he senses your turmoil, Rex turns his head so that he’s facing you, so close that his lips ghost over yours. "Who consumes your thoughts to the point of forgetfulness?”

Maybe it’s your turn to surprise him and turn the tables in your favour. With a lazy smile you place your hands on his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath and look up at him with your best tooka eyes.

“Don’t you know Sir? It’s you.”

You’ve barely finished uttering those words before Rex pushes his body against yours, until there is no space between the two of you. The hand not on your side whips behind your head, gripping your hair and pulling your head back so your neck is bared. Your hands flutter by your sides, unsure of where to put them as you stare wide-eyed up at him

“Say that again” he growls.

You swallow hard and his eyes track your throat’s movement before looking back up. “It’s you.”

He shakes his head “You’re missing something there cyare”

Oh. You grin wickedly, so that’s how it’s going to be. “It’s you, Sir.”

The growl that comes from his chest makes the deepest part of you clench in need, and you want to hear that sound again as he’s over you, fucking you into his bunk. Your hips start to grind up against Rex when he suddenly pins them against the wall with his own, stopping your ministrations. You whine in frustration and he nips your jaw in retaliation.

“Tell me right now if this is not something you want cyare, and I’ll stop.”

Why would you want him to stop you think to yourself, when you finally get to have him exactly how you’ve dreamed. You voice your thoughts out loud “I thought our bet was you could do anything to me, anywhere you wanted?” Dread sinks low in your belly, does he not really want this and is using you as an out?

He quickly puts that fear to rest. “Only with your consent. I won’t take anything that is not given freely or willingly. So I’ll ask again, is this something you want?”

A flush warms your chest and it’s not from the arousal Rex inspires in you. This perfect being in front of you would stop everything at once, no matter how excited he may feel, if you said you were uncomfortable. This is what sets him apart from everyone else. While they may taketaketake without any thought to you, he puts your comfort as his priority, giving you the chance to say no and respect it.

You want to give Rex everything he deserves, which is why there is no hesitation when you reply. “I want this. I want you.”

Rex looks at you, searching for something that would indicate that you aren’t telling him the truth and finds only honesty. He’s suddenly surging forward, lips devouring yours in a bruising kiss. Stars, you just submit to him, opening your mouth with a whimper so that he can taste you. He savours the feeling of your tongue against his, warm and wet, with the sweet tang of the muja fruit you’d had earlier in the mess hall. He had watched you, unnoticed, taking each juicy bite in contentment, licking away the droplets that clung to your lip. You’d been a vision and he’d had to leave before he snuck in a taste of his own. He didn’t want to scare you off with a meagre kiss in the mess hall before he could claim you properly.

This kiss though, with all the burning touches and wanton looks, all the buildup between the two of you has led to this moment being taken out on your mouth. There’s no finesse, no gentle touch, just pure want. Rex alternates between kissing you senseless and nipping your lips, revelling in the sounds that come out of your mouth.

He uses the grip on your hair to angle your head into a deeper kiss, and it sends a rush of desire through you, knowing that he’s the one controlling your pleasure.

Rex starts kissing down your neck, paying particular attention to a spot just under your jaw and the moan you give him lets him know exactly how much you enjoy it. You’ve grasped his shirt between your hands, needing something to hold on to as he traces your neck with his tongue, while your hips have started grinding up against him, legs spread wide to fit around his hips, but it’s still not enough.

Rex can see you struggle and decides to show you a little mercy. He slots one of his thighs between your legs, barely pressing against your core, looking down at your flushed form. “Come on mesh’la, ride my thigh.” You don’t need another invitation and start rubbing against him, undulating your hips as close as you can. Rex goes back to marking up your throat, nipping the place where your neck and shoulder meet.

While he’s content to let you find the friction you need, you realize something is wrong. Rex had ordered you to ride his thigh, but had kept it just far away that you’d only get a whisper of a touch against your core. You whimper in impatience and try to pull him closer, but he won’t budge. “Rex,” you implore him “in order to ride your thigh I need something to ride!” He bites down on your shoulder and you cry out in surprise.

“Don’t be a brat” he growls

You whine, high and desperate, hoping that Rex will understand what you need and give it to you. You’ve already been so good for him, why can’t he see that.

By the dark chuckle exhaled upon your skin he does, though he doesn’t speed up his ministrations, in fact he slows down. The pleasure you feel starts to trickle away and you feel like crying you’re so frustrated. You’d do anything at this point just to get off.

“Such a needy girl” he tsks "but doesn’t know how to ask nicely”

Ask. He wants you to ask him to let you cum on his thigh. Ask that he press closer so he can feel how wet he’s made you. The thought makes you dizzy with want.

“Rex, I need to cum on your thigh.”

“Still being a brat.” He makes a mock disappointed sound and moves his leg away. Nonono! This is the opposite of what you wanted. He continues before you can object, “Good girls don’t make demands, they ask nicely.”

Force take you now. Your panties are so wet it’s like the oceans of Kamino, you don’t think you’ll be able to salvage them after this. Biting your lip, you can feel how swollen it’s become after Rex’s kisses and you can only image how dark they’ve become, evidence of his desire for you. Your neck is covered with his marks and you wonder where else he could put that talented mouth to use. That thought spurs you on. “Please sir, please let me ride your thigh, I need to cum so bad.”

He hums, “No.”

You make a sound of distress, “But I asked nicely! Please Sir! Don’t leave me like this!” You sob out, heart clenching.

The hand that had been tracing patterns on your side reaches up and cradles the side of your face. You nuzzle into his palm, pleas falling from your lips in hopes to sway him, saying how you want to be his good girl, that only he can make you cum, pleasepleaseplease!

Rex waits until you’ve finished “No, you won’t cum on my thigh. You’re going to cum with my fingers stuffed deep in that pretty pussy of yours.” He kisses you until your whimpering in his arms “Understood?”

Kark it all! Rex was being a kriffing tease and you doubt he’d let up anytime soon

You nod eagerly “Yes! Please Sir! I want to cum on your fingers, please!”

He chuckles, “There’s my good girl” before sliding his hand down the front of your pants. His fingers are thick as they push your panties to the side and slide through your folds, collecting the slick gathered there. He pulls his fingers out and you can see your juices glistening on the first two digits, already dripping down.

“Already so wet for me mesh’la.” Rex says in awe, “and I’ve barely even touched you.” Swiftly he moves his hand back down to your core and before you know it, his first finger is already knuckle deep inside you. Your eyes roll back as you moan and Rex curses. “Kriff cyar’ika, I just slid right in.”

He slowly pulls his finger out before pushing back in, keeping his eyes on your face, looking for any twitch of discomfort, but all you feel is satisfaction. Finally, you’re getting exactly what you need.

Rex has removed the hand from your hair and braced his arm back on the wall above your head, giving him better leverage to fuck you with his hand. You start to pant as you feel your pleasure building up again, a slow burn that consumes you from the inside out.

When Rex adds a second finger you can feel a delicious burn as he stretches you out, picking up speed as he steadily thrusts his fingers, the room filling up with the mixed sounds of your moans and wet sounds of your arousal. Rex pumps his fingers faster, desperate to hear more “Keep making those beautiful noises cyar’ika! Show me how much you want me!” “I always want you, only you” you whine out, hips rolling with each thrust “I didn’t think that you’d want me.”

Rex drinks in your look of ecstasy, how he’s the one causing you to lose your inhibitions. “I want you, I have for a while. Didn’t think you’d felt the same until we sparred, when I had you under me, seeing those big eyes staring back, full of want.” He twists his fingers and finds that spot that makes you arch your back, pressing your chest against him, hands scrabbling for purchase on his shoulders. Your mouth drops open in a silent moan. “Knew then I’d give you everything I could just to keep those pretty little eyes on me.”

Your eyes snap back to his face, tears starting to blur your vision. Maker, you were so close! If Rex continued talking like he was, you’d be over the edge in no time, you’re already teetering with how close you are.

He continues as if he can’t hear your gasps and moans. “What would’ve happened” he murmurs, “if we hadn’t been interrupted. Would you have let me taste you cyare, spread those pretty legs nice and wide for me? I’m not a small man, it would be a tight fit, but you’d make it work, wouldn’t you?” He rolls his hips so you know exactly how big he is elsewhere, the motion pressing his fingers in deeper.

“I like that you’re big.” Stars, was that voice yours?

Rex makes a pleased noise. “What sounds would you have made for me, as I tasted you? Would you have let me fuck you on the mat, where anyone could have walked in? Let everyone hear how easily my cock would slide in, how wet I made you, that I was the only one who could make you feel that good.” He adds a third finger and you howl, uncaring if anyone hears you, too consumed with Rex and how he was playing your body like a fine-tuned blaster.

By now you’ve drenched his hand, all the way down to his wrist, soaking his fingerless gloves. You bet if he took his hand away he’d be dripping onto the floor. The squelching sounds fill the room as Rex thrusts even faster, and he groans low in your ear. There is a moment of gleeful satisfaction that you’re not the only one affected, before a hard thrust sends another gush of slick over his hand.

He curses again “Kriff, I could take you here right now and you’d let me. Soaking my dick, getting me all nice and wet while I fuck you against the wall.”

By now you’re a babbling mess, the only words you’re able to say are please!, and more!, and yes Sir! The coil in your belly is wound tight, ready to snap. Knees trembling, you clench down hard on his fingers, looking for that last little bit to carry you over the edge. Through the haze you can hear a chirping noise but don’t pay it any attention, too focused on how full you feel, Rex’s fingers filling you up.

Unfortunately, Rex does pay attention to the chirping noise, as it’s coming from the vambrace on the hand currently three-knuckles deep within you. An in-coming message.

“Just ignore it!” You plead with him, feeling too strung out to think logically.

Rex just shakes his head “You know I can’t do that mesh’la.” He sounds gruff as he answers, so you know he’s as unhappy as you about the interruption.

You burrow your wail of despair against his chest, muffling your sounds so he can answer his com. From the sounds of it, it seems like he’s needed to give an in-person debrief on the latest training session with the new recruits.

Oh all the times for command to call, and it would have to be when Rex is knuckle deep inside you and your orgasm is about to take you to hyperspace. All for an update about the shinies! Can’t they just read his report like everyone else! Kriff! The sound of the com is deafening and Rex pulls himself away, though he does so very slowly.

He starts making himself look presentable, smoothing out his shirt and arranging himself so his hard on is not so noticeable. You stare at him, wide-eyed, and you must be too finger-fucked frustrated because you blurt out “You’re going to leave me here? Without letting me cum?”

“Yes.” He turns a stern look towards you “and you’re not going to touch yourself when you get back to your bunk.”

Your jaw drops in shock and Rex smirks at you “I told you that you’d cum on my fingers, and that’s what I’m going to do after my meeting. So no getting yourself off.”

You know you’re pouting, but you can’t help it. “And then what? You come back, get me to cum, and then leave? I thought-”

Rex cuts you off “Thought what mesh’la?”

You look away, feeling embarrassed. “I thought that I was your good girl” you whisper.

A fond look crosses over Rex’s face “Oh cyar’ika, you are my good girl.” He steps closer, causing you to raise your eyes back to his face, “and because you’re my good girl you’re not going to touch yourself until I can take care of you.” He presses his forehead against yours, letting you see the sincerity in his eyes. “ Believe me cyare, once with you will never be enough.”

With that he steps back, keeping eye contact with you. With a mischievous look, Rex brings his hand that is covered in your slick up to his mouth, and sucks on the first two digits. His groan of satisfaction gets your legs trembling and your core clenching all over again.You continue to watch him as he cleans up the evidence of your arousal until nothing remains. Nothing except a damp glove.

When he’s finished he takes his fingers out with a slick pop, a feral smile on his face. His parting words lingering well after he’s gone.

“I’m only just getting started.”

To be continued.

Tag list: @samrubio @justanotherstarwarswhore @bvcketfvcker @grumpymuffinmama @justanothersadperson93 @fat-zygerrian

#I forgot the tags #slksdjfslkjs #Too excited to post this monster #First fic #Yay me #Getting some spicy times 👀#Rex getting reader all 💦#Captain Rex #Rex #Oldman Rex #Rebel!Rex #Rex x reader #Rebel Rex x reader

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cherrycocaineee · 3 years ago

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13. Dean Winchester - Confession

Bobby was sitting at his desk flipping through the millions of dusty, old, torn books he had collected over the years when I came down the stairs, carrying my purse along my shoulder. The sound of my small feet thumping against his creaky wooden floors caused him to look at me. He was already drinking scotch this early in the morning and the tired, purple bags under his eyes proved that he had a restless night just like usual. I smiled sympathetically at him as I approached, getting a large whiff of the liquor he was pouring down his throat. I could hardly count the number of times I’ve warned him and the boys about drinking so much, yet they never listened. Though I didn’t really expect them to, considering all of the things they’ve seen in their lifetime.

“Where are you off to?” He asked, pouring himself another glass of scotch.

“We’re low on groceries,” I hummed, “so I’m going down to the market to pick some stuff up. I’ll make breakfast when I come back, okay?”

“I’ll hold ya to that. You need any money?”

I shook my head and patted the side of my purse before leaving for the market. It wasn’t a long trip, it was literally a block from where Bobby lived. When I arrived at the small, yet vibrant place, I inhaled the sweet scent of freshly picked produce and other aromas. Inside I pushed the basket around and collected everything we needed for the house: fresh produce, meats, bread, eggs, and much more. Considering how much fast food I use while travelling with the boys, I was happy to find a place that sold freshly grown fruits and vegetables, and freshly cut chops of meat, and more. I spent an hour in total at the market before paying for my groceries and heading back to the house.

While carrying all of the paper bags inside, I could hear talking going on inside. I shook it off as Bobby being on the phone and continued.

“Bobby, I’m home,” I called, “I’m about to start breakfast, so why don’t you trade that scotch in for a cup of coffee.”

The voices from the other room quieted down just as I placed the groceries on the kitchen table. I walked out of the kitchen and saw Bobby standing in the middle of the room with none other than Dean and Sam. My eyes widened at the sight of them. The last time I saw Sam was when he jumped into the cage, holding Lucifer in and knocking Michael inside too. And Dean, well, I hadn’t seen him since he went to live with Lisa and Ben. It had hurt a lot when he left too, not wanting to stay with Bobby. Not wanting to stay with me. But I didn’t make a big deal about it despite being madly in love with him. Though I’d never tell him that since he was in love with Lisa.

“Hey, Persephone,” Sam and Dean said simultaneously, making my eyes water.

“Hey,” I whispered, a smile forming on my face.

I walked over to them and embraced them both, feeling their large, muscular arms wrap around my thin frame as they held me close. As I pulled away from the hug, Lisa popped her head around the corner. My chest was tightening as I saw Dean walk over to her. They went off to speak to one another, I cleared my throat and turned my attention to Sam.

“When did you get back from hell?” I asked.

From the look on his face and the way he was rubbing the back of his neck with his rough hands, I knew there was something he wasn’t sure he wanted to tell me. Or at least the truth anyway. But he decided that he’d tell me in the end.

“A year, actually,” he muttered.

My forest green eyes widened at his words. I spent the next fifteen minutes tearing a new one into both Sam and Bobby, who had been hiding this from me the entire year, then returned to the kitchen to cook breakfast. There was a mix of frustration, betrayal, and other emotions mixing up inside of me as I started scrambling the eggs and cooking the sausage and bacon. Quiet sizzling could be heard throughout the kitchen, masking the sound of my humming while I cooked. As I was moving on to the coffee, I heard footsteps coming from behind me so I swirled around to see Dean walking in. He didn’t look too happy either.

“Did you just find out that Sam’s been back for a year too?” I questioned, throwing away the old coffee grounds into the trash.

“Well yes,” he stated, “but that’s not while I’m upset.”

I had started plating the food by then, starting off with Ben’s since he was here and was probably hungry.

“What’s going on?”

I set a cup of coffee down in front of him.

“Sam needs my help hunting a Djinn,” he answered, “and I’m worried because the things might come after Lisa and Ben.”

Honestly, I should have seen that coming. Sam, despite being back from hell, wouldn’t have asked Dean for help if it wasn’t life or death. It made me wonder if they’d only come to drop off Dean's family or to ask me to help. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t jealous of Lisa, in fact, I was happy for her and Dean. It just hurt every time I saw them together.

“So that’s why you brought them to Bobby’s,” I whispered, buttering some fresh French bread, “so we could watch them while you guys hunted the Djinn?”

“Well actually,” Dean said, placing his cup on the table, “just for Bobby to watch them. You’re coming with us right?”

A small, sad smile appeared on my face as I lifted up Bobby’s plate while shaking my head.

“I don’t hunt anymore, Dean. When Sam jumped into that cage and you left to go live with Lisa and Ben, the two of you left me behind. So I just stopped hunting. Now I just clean up and cook while studying.”

“Studying?”

“I started going back to school. Granted it’s online but I figured I might as well get an education.”

It was silent between us, so I just walked away and headed towards Bobby with his breakfast. He was sitting at his desk once again when I arrived and graciously welcomed the warm food. I went back into the kitchen, where Dean was still sitting, and picked up the plate for Ben then headed upstairs to give it to him.

Lisa was unpacking their overnight bags when I reached the room they were staying in. Ben was sitting on the bed, playing some video game on his gaming device. Tapping on the door, I caught their attention and smiled welcomingly.

“Hey,” I said, “I’m Persephone, a friend of Sam and Dean’s. I made your son some breakfast if he’d like to eat.”

A smile appeared on her face in return, “thank you, Persephone. I’m Lisa and this is Ben.”

I didn’t tell her that I already knew her name, that would be rude. Instead, I shook her hand and placed Ben’s food down on one of the nightstands. He thanked me and started shoveling food inside his mouth fast. It reminded me of how Dean would eat when he was in a rush. Swallowing the forming lump inside my throat, I left the two of them to finish unpacking. Halfway down the stairs, I froze and gripped the railing tight. My heart felt like it was racing, tears were streaming down my cheek as I tried to collect myself. Wiping away the unwanted water leaks, I sighed softly and went downstairs. Sam and Dean were getting ready to leave when I made it to the main room. The two Winchester brother’s faced me when I entered.

“You sure you don’t want to come, Perse?” Sam inquired.

I held up my hands and giggled, “no thanks. You guys be safe.”

I hugged them tightly, almost relaxing when I felt the safety of their embrace. They said a final goodbye to Bobby and I then left for wherever it was they were going to hunt this monster. Bobby returned to his breakfast and I went into the kitchen to pack up the leftovers and clean up. Once the kitchen was tidied up, I headed back upstairs to my room to get some reading done. I had some homework assignments that were in desperate need of doing before midnight tomorrow and I liked to stay ahead of the clock.

Hours and hours passed before I finally passed out while reading my book. No dreams occupied my slumber while I napped, however, I was eventually awakened by the sound of someone knocking on my door. Stirring around in my covers, both eyes pried themselves open and stared at the dimly lit ceiling before looking to my right and seeing it was well past three o’clock in the morning. Another knock echoed throughout the room and I finally dragged myself out of the comforting quilt and onto the assaulting, cold floor. I rubbed my eyes to wipe the sleep away and pulled the door open. Lisa was standing on the other side, holding a plate in her hand.

“Bobby said that you were up here studying, and you missed dinner,” she said, “did I wake you?”

“Yeah,” I groggily whispered, “but it’s okay.”

I took the plate from her and saw that she had cooked some chicken noodle soup. It smelled great, reminding me of my early years in life when I still lived with my mom. She followed me inside of the room as I sat criss crossed on my bed with the soup in hand, smelling the melted butter on the toast. My eyes met the clock once again and was astonished to see that I had slept and studied for such a long time. It felt like only seconds ago that it was morning and I had just finished cooking breakfast.

“Persephone,” Lisa said while I slurped the soup up, “I’m sure you’re aware of the things Sam and Dean do, right?”

“Of course,” I answered before scooping another spoonful of soup in my mouth.

“How were you okay with it? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love Dean and I understand that he’s gotta do what he has to, but sometimes I worry that he’ll come home hurt or something will follow him home.”

Though there was a ping in my chest when she said she loved Dean, I couldn’t help but smile at how worried she was for him. It was something that he definitely needed since he was always worrying about other people. I placed the plate onto the empty nightstand and scooted closer to the edge of the bed, patting the spot next to me. When Lisa sat down, I took her hands into my own.

“It’s a lot to process,” I whispered, “when I met Sam and Dean, I was so unsure about leaving everything I knew to travel with them and fight all of those monsters. But I know deep down in my heart that they would never let people they love get hurt and they’ll die trying to protect those they consider family. Especially Dean. What you can do for him, is just be there, even if it’s hard. Because at the end of the day, he needs that most of all.”

The two of us shared a hug before she agreed she would do her best to make Dean feel loved and secure. After saying goodnight to me, she retreated back to her room, closing the door behind her. When she was out of sight, I grabbed my soup again and slowly started slurping it up again. It was comforting knowing that she would be taking care of Dean. Once he came back, I’d persuade him to go back with Lisa, telling him that he deserved to be with someone that made him happy.

The next day came quickly and I hadn’t fallen back asleep after my conversation with Lisa, so I spent the rest of the entire night reading. Soft, illuminating rays of sunshine burst through the clear, white curtains in my room as I finished throwing on a short-sleeve, white, shirt that only tied close. Running my fingers through my brushed hair, I fixed up any lumps that were visible.

Bobby was asleep at his desk when I reached downstairs, so I went over to him and wrapped a blanket around his snoring body. Picking up his almost empty bottle of scotch, I carried it back to the kitchen to put it away and make a new pot of coffee. Wanting nothing more than to sit outside with a non-school book and my delicious morning nectar, reading as the sun played against my pale skin. There was no telling when Sam and Dean would be home, along with there being no way of knowing when they would wake up. So I wanted to get in as much peace and quiet as possible before the day began.

With the coffee cup in my right hand and a good book in the other, I sat on the back of one of Bobby’s rundown cars and started reading. Four chapters in and I was already getting up to make myself a second cup of joe. Just as I slipped off the back of the rusted car, Dean and Sam pulled up. The sun was only just inching towards the middle of the sky when they arrived. Both climbing out of their seats, I noticed that they were not only tired but relieved.

“How’d it go?” I inquired, “seemed pretty quick.”

“It went fine,” Sam replied, “except Dean’s got a big slash on his arm. They came right at us.”

I went over to Dean and saw that he had wrapped his cut in a cloth but the blood was still leaking through. Clicking my tongue, I shook my head while leading the two of them inside. Sam explained on the way that they had figured that the Djinn were targeting both of them, so they went back to Dean’s home and waited there. When Dean noticed that his friends and neighbors were being killed, he ran to help and ended up almost dying. But Sam helped him. The fight raged on but in the end, the Winchester boys came out on top. Sam went to wash up while I started taking care of Dean’s wound.

With the First Aid Kit laying beside me on the kitchen table, I unwrapped his wound and gulped at the sight of it. Dean chuckled.

“Makes you miss the old days, huh?” He laughed.

“Not really,” I giggled, “a lot of it may have been great but watching the two people I cared the most about get injured was never easy.”

“It was never easy watching you get hurt either.”

I cleaned up the wound and sprayed some of the cleaning solution on it causing Dean to wince. It made me laugh because of how soft he had become in the last year. After rewrapping the wound in a proper bandage, I threw everything else away and put the first aid kit back in its rightful spot. When I looked back at him, I saw that he was staring at his hands.

“Are you thinking about leaving Lisa and Ben?” I asked, returning to the table.

“I’m not sure,” he stated, “if I leave them, more monsters could show up looking for me and hurt them, but if I stay then even more monsters will show up and hurt them to get to me.”

“But at least you’d be there to protect them.”

His perfect, bright green eyes met my own darker, emerald ones.

“If you left Lisa and Ben today, then you would never be able to forgive yourself if they got hurt without you being there. However, I know, and Lisa knows, that you would do anything for the people you love. So maybe you being there is what’s best right now.”

The words seemed to sink in before he nodded in agreement.

“Then it’s settled. I’ll be going back with Lisa and Ben when they wake up.”

I squeezed his shoulder and sat down at the table. Running a shaking hand through my hair as a soft sigh left my lips. I don’t know what came over me, all of a sudden I felt that maybe I should say something to him if this was the last time I’d see him. I had no intention of breaking him and Lisa up but I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore. It was practically tearing me up inside.

“Dean, there’s something I need to tell you before you go,” I whispered.

“What is it?” He asked, his eyes never wavering away from me.

My palms felt sweaty and my throat felt drier than I had ever felt before. Taking a deep breath, I faced him and smiled. I chickened out.

“I’m going to miss you.”

I went to go back to my room, but Dean grabbed my wrist stopping me from leaving. I clenched my fist tight and turned around, not ready to face him because I knew he could read my face like a book. He stood there holding my arm, not tight but not lightly so I would stay there.

“That’s definitely not what you were going to say,” he said, “tell me.”

With a final deep breath, I nodded my head, “I love you.”

His eyes widened and he dropped my hand, letting it drop to my side. I felt it sway before coming to a slow stop. Then I held it to defend myself.

“I’m not saying this to break you and Lisa up,” I said, “I want you to go with her and be there for Ben. But I also wanted to let you know, in case we never saw each other again.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He croaked, and I thought that I could see tears in his eyes.

I could only shrug my shoulders, “with everything going on, it just didn’t feel right. And then you wanted to go live with Lisa after Sam was gone so I just never told you.”

Our conversation was interrupted by Ben and Lisa running into the kitchen, Bobby walking behind them, and embracing Dean. They were happy that he had come home with hardly any injuries. Dean wrapped his arms around them both but he was staring at me. I smiled sweetly, holding my hands in front of me while watching them be reunited. Lisa and Ben were ready to go home with Dean, and even though I knew Dean wanted to stay and talk more about what I had just confessed, I helped push him out the door. If he stayed any longer, I was definitely going to want him to stay forever. But I couldn’t be selfish. Sam, Bobby, and I stood at the front door and waved as the three of them drove off. When they were out of sight, my hand dropped. I felt Bobby place his hand on my shoulder and look at me with understanding.

I wasn’t sure when the next time I would see Dean again, but I knew that it wasn’t going to be any time soon. And if I was being honest, I didn’t want to see him again. He needed to be with Lisa.

#dean winchester #dean #supernatural #spn #dean winchester x female!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester one shot #supernatural one shot #supernatural imagines #dean winchester fanfiction #fluff #dean winchester fluff #imagines #one shot #fanfic #dean winchester x reader #smut #supernatural fluff

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sweetcathedral · 4 years ago

Text

🖤Hero Academia — Aizawa🖤

Note: I thought I’d post an old work here. Also, b/c I’m seeing a lot of minors migrate to ao3, I’m thinking of switching all my works to here since it’s easier to monitor, which means I’m deleting my ao3.

⚠️: bulge, breeding, somnophilia, cnc

He’s late. Just as you thought, but that’s expected of Pro Heroes and you can’t blame him for being one. You knowingly accepted your common law conditions, so you can’t complain. You reached for your phone hoping to see his name tangled within the notifications.

NekoZawa: late

Was the only message that caught your attention with a little bit of disappointment. Deep down you already knew it’d come to this, but you still can’t help feeling let down a bit. As you were about to change out of your getup a series of sharp knocks startled you, catching you off guard.

“It’s mee!” shouted the familiar voice.

Midnight?!

You rushed to open the door.

“Kayama? You’re ba—,”

“Ahhhh! So cute, so delicate, just youth!” she huffed in excitement at the sight of your longline lace bra and single-ruffled panties.

“Ah! Wai—youth? You know we're not that far in age,” you said, as you try to hide behind the door.

“Please, I'd kill to be 5 years younger, and don’t even try hiding from me. Even though he doesn’t care much about looks this definitely falls within his tastes,”

You blushed at the compliment, wishing it had come out of Aizawa’s mouth instead.

“Anyways,” she continued, “how about some bubble tea? I got your favourite,” she whipped out a bag of drinks from behind her. You wonder if she knew of your plans and came to cheer you up.

Who am I kidding, she’s an R-rated hero. Her sixth sense is basically her sex sense.

“Yeah, I could use some company,” you smiled in relief, thankful for her sharp intuition.

Before you knew it, 9PM became 11PM in what felt like 30 minutes and that heavy feeling weighing on your chest left after a couple of laughs here and there. You couldn’t help but feel better in the presence of Kayama, you have no choice but to feel better in her presence.

“And after I showed his class a pic of you, that grape idiot said ‘ if that raggedy ass man of a sensei is able to snatch a woman like that then there’s still hope for me, right?! Right?!’ in that stupid lisp of his! I couldn’t help, but cackle in his face! Hahahahahahahaha!”

“Grape idiot?!,” you laughed, almost choking on your tapioca.

“It caused this huge uproar which took Aizawa an hour to settle down,”

“Sounds like an exaggeration to me,”

“Really? Then I’d have to ask Principal Nezu for permission to let you visit. Hmmm, maybe a surprise visit during his birthday, I’d get to see that purple shit bleed from his eyes again. Hah!” she said, her sadistic side twinkling in her eyes.

You could tell she wasn’t lying about the surprise visit as she hummed her thoughts between sips of beer. Although you know how much Aizawa likes to keep his private life separate from his professional life, your thoughts couldn’t help but ponder in curiosity at how he acts around his infamous class 1-A students. All he ever does is complain about them every time you ask, but just thinking about him acting like the strict teacher Kayama says he is . . . makes . . . you . . .

“Oi, oooii . . . I said OI!”

“Gah!”

“What the hell’s got you blushing like a dazed mess?”

“Blushing? . . . !”

You clasp your hands over your face, as if you’re trying to keep your thoughts and daydreams from escaping. You let your imagination run wild just from thinking about Aizawa as a teacher — his strict demeanour and cold eyes piercing through you . . . his deep growls muffled at the base of your neck as his grip tightens around your waist and hair . . .

“Oh! What time is it?” Kayama exclaimed, disrupting your thoughts.

You reach for your phone to check the time, seeing 11:17PM illuminating from the screen before flipping it to Kayama.

“Perfect!”

You cock your head to the side trying to think of what could make Kayama that excited, but before you could react, her quirk had already taken hold of your consciousness.

Aizawa let out a heavy sigh staring at the time on his phone. It wasn’t the first time he’d let you down like that, even though it’s out of his control he still can’t help feeling disappointed in himself. Pro Heroes always have unpredictable schedules, but still, he’d wish his schedule had gone his way today.

“Thanks as always, Eraserhead. I’ll send the details your way once we’ve confirmed the date,” Tsukauchi reassured, dismissing him for the day. Aizawa nodded in response, finally, he thought. As he walked out of the station, his phone vibrated.

Ugh, what now?

He reached for his phone and unlocked his screen.

Kayama? Probably just more cat pics.

But much to his surprise, the series of pics caused him to stop in his tracks.

Kayama: Bon appétit! *kissy face*

Was the only message that followed at the end of the series of pics. After Kayama used her quirk to put you to sleep, she happily cleaned the place up and settled you prettily onto the bed in an innocent, but also, somewhat tempting position. Who could blame her? She had a knack for setting up tempting situations for her best friends. Aizawa tapped on each pic, examining the details of your delicate lace bra and fluttery panties. He really wished his schedule had gone his way today. The longer he stared at each pic, the bigger his temptation and pent up emotions grew — frustration, doubt, confusion, jealousy, anger, greed, love, lust, it was causing him to lose all sense of logic. You were causing him to lose all sense of logic and he hated it. It’s his first time experiencing something like this, he’d never romantically loved anyone until you came into his life. At first you were just like any other Pro Hero he teamed up with in previous missions, but the mission you two took on escalated into an emotional high profile case, which caused him to spend more time with you. One thing led to another and now, you’re each other’s common-law spouse. Both of you could care less about the huge wedding traditions of planning a wedding day, banquet halls, invitations and all that, but unexpectedly, he did buy you a wedding ring — a customized designer ring at that. Not only does he not care about appearances, but he also doesn’t seem to care about prices, so long as it serves its purpose.

“Uh, Eraserhead? Everything okay?�� Officer Sansa tapped on Aizawa’s shoulder, breaking him from his thoughts.

“Huh? Oh, Detective Tsukauchi already settled on a date already?” Aizawa quickly locked his phone and tucked it back into his pocket.

“Um, no, he was actually worried about you . . . you’ve been standing still here for a while now, just staring at your phone . . .”

The logical Pro Hero himself didn’t even realize that he stopped walking and was surprised to see the station still behind him. Tch .

“. . . yeah, I think I should head home now. Someone’s waiting for me. Thanks, Officer Sansa.”

He waved at the cat officer before tucking his hand back into his pocket, unconsciously digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands in frustration. He hated this feeling . . . and he can’t wait to take it out on you .

Aizawa hesitates to open the door, unsure of how he’d react when he sees you for himself. He carefully turns the knob, making sure not to make a noise that’ll wake you from your peaceful slumber. You were just like the pics Kayama sent him — back exposed with the soft glow of the city night lights highlighting your dainty shoulder blades . . . arms clutching the pillow from underneath that pretty little head of yours . . . one leg hitched up to the side while the other was elongated and tucked half way into the sheets . . . As he reached to caress your face, he noticed his hand trembling from suppressing his temptation. Tch. He pulls his hand back in frustration.

“ . . . mmph . . . Shou . . . ta . . .” you murmured in your sleep in between heated breaths.

That was enough for Aizawa to let go of any sense of logic and common sense he had left, and before he knew it, he was hovering over you — the weight of his body sinking into the duvet. His eyes trailing over your features, watching your chest rise and fall with every breath you take — a reassuring feeling that you’re real and very much alive to him. He annoyingly hears his name from the teachers at UA all the time, but when it whispers out from between those pretty lips of yours, it made him experience a feeling he wasn’t used to controlling. He gave in, leaving trails of kisses that slowly turned into hickeys and then bite marks. He felt bad for leaving those marks on your supple skin, but he also wished they were permanent, as if the wedding ring doesn't speak for itself anymore. Aizawa’s grip tightened on your thigh at the thought of anyone else touching you, pinning your leg to your chest. His rough hand traces down your curves before slipping them in between your thighs — a wet sopping mess.

Ah, her panties are ruined . . . shame, he thought as he ripped a slit open, big enough for what you’re about to take in. Whoops . . . I’ll just get her a new one.

The temperature of your body was rising as he continued to press up against you, leaving marks on your collarbone and teasing your insides with his thick calloused fingers. A wave of pleasure ripples through your moonlight kissed skin, slowly pulling you back to your senses. You bat your eyes a few times to shake off the heaviness weighing on your eyelids.

“ . . . Shou—haa . . . !” your body twitched as another wave of pleasure came over you, shaking off your sleepy numbness, awakening your sense of touch as you grip his forearm trying to get him to slow down. It was no use given how enamoured he was with your reaction, your measly grip is as light as a feather against his strength.

“Haa . . . wait . . . slowdow—mmph!,”

Aizawa places his hand over your mouth, silencing your relentless begging. You finally noticed his flushed face and entranced eyes — a face you’re not used to seeing.

“Shut up, if you know what’s good for you,” his deep voice reverberated in your ear, sending a ripple of shivers down your neck. He was a completely different person in a completely different headspace. The only thing that can bring him back to his senses is your safe word, but you know that if you give in he’d completely stop and resist touching you for days as penance for losing control. But . . . you love it when he loses control along with his sense of logic, so you melt into your favourite position, signaling him to release all his pent up emotions in you — a mating press. You bite your trembling lower lip, begging with your wet eyes as a smirk played across his face. He gently kisses your forehead before pulling down his bottoms, revealing his thick throbbing cock. Your cunt twitched at the sight of it, squeezing out your fluids, dripping down like honey.

“How badly do you want it?”

“. . . badly . . . Shou~ta~ . . .” you cooed.

His cock twitched at the sound of your light and airy voice, precum drips onto the sheets.

“Not yet,” he said as he began stroking his cock on your clit, making sure not to let an inch slip inside you. The sensation drives you crazy as you whimper and whine for him to fill you up inside, desperately begging with your hips. But Aizawa’s firm grip on your thighs won’t let you, and keeps you from getting what you want. You miss the feeling of being bred full . His strokes were getting faster, his panting turning into growls. Your body tensed and toes curled as the feeling came closer, letting a desperate sigh escape from your mouth.

“Already? But I’m not done with you yet,” he playfully whispers in your ear before ramming himself inside you.

“Haa!” you yelped.

Your plump walls twitch at the sudden movement, tightening itself around his cock.

“That’s my good girl,” he chuckled, cockingly.

Tears well up in your eyes as you bite back your whimpering. He grabs your hand and firmly places it on your lower abdomen,

“Do you feel me? I’m right here.”

With your hand firmly placed on your stomach, you can feel his bulge every time he strokes his cock in you. He keeps it there, so that you have no choice but to feel it until the very end — up until his cum fills you up inside. His long strokes began to shorten, each stroke getting harder than the last and unable to hold in your pants and moans. Not only can you feel the warmth fill you up, but you can also feel his cock releasing globs of his milk from the bulge protruding from your lower abdomen. Your fingers dance around it making him twitch, his bruising grip tightening around your wrist.

“Fuck,” he grunts, looking down at the mess you both made.

Your cunt was swelling at the amount of cum it’s trying to keep from spilling, gushing out every time your sticky walls twitch. Before Aizawa was about to pull out, you grab his arm,

“Wait . . . not yet,” you must’ve been pouting when those words fell off of your swollen lips cause you’ve never seen his features soften like that before. He lowers himself, feeling his weight sinking into the bed as he tenderly kisses your forehead, brushing your slick baby hairs from your face . . . the warmth of his forehead resting against yours . . . the reassuring feeling of his hand gently cupping your flushed cheeks . . . You reach for his face, thumbing the scar under his eye, diving in for a deeper kiss and wrapping your arms around him. His heart begins to beat harder as you begin to feel his cock swelling up again from inside you.

#☕️.aizawa #Nanami’s gone for awhile #but Aizawa is back ☺️#Aizawa brainrot #ao3 no more!!#aizawa fanfiction #aizawa fic #aizawa smut #bnha smut #bnha fic #tw: cnc #tw: somnophilia #tw: breeding #Aizawa season 5

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sirthisisa-wendys · 4 years ago

Text

The General (Part 8): Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: Going home seems impossible now. And it should be, now that your definition of home has changed.

wc: 2.4k

tw: none

masterlist

Waking up in the embrace of the General is the closest thing to heaven. His strong arms enclose you and press your back against his chest, which rises and falls evenly as he sleeps. Home, heaven… how are they any different from each other when you’re here with him? You look over your shoulder slowly, trying your best not to awaken him, and take a look at the dragon tattoo on his bicep. You had almost completely ignored it in the passion of the night before, but now, you witness it fully at rest. There’s no movement, no motion, no twitching.

You pray that this moment would stay the same for the rest of your life - and in the silence of the morning, you can hear the whisper of the prayer being carried off on the wind. But it returns back to you with a resounding ‘no’ in the form of a breathless Yuta entering the tent.

He completely ignores the sleeping General and announces: “Master Geto, the village elders have denied the terms of negotiation.”

Suguru immediately awakens from his sleep and groans. “We ride out in an hour, then.” Yuta leaves, no doubt to announce the news to Nanami, but you’re laying in the bed, heart flailing around in your chest. Geto leans over to press a few kisses to your cheek, then rolls out of the bed with ease. “I will call for Kaori to come and bathe you, then pack your things. You’ll head home within the hour.” You tumble out of the bed, still naked, and approach Suguru from behind, wrapping your arms around him tightly. He places a hand on yours in acknowledgement, stroking it with care.

“Please stay safe,” you croak, and he nods slowly; his only response to your request.

_______________________________________________________________________

Your tears are freshly scrubbed from your face and your body is fragrant with rose oil when you emerge from the tent, dressed in a lavish, silk kimono that didn’t belong to you, but had been presented by Kaori as a “gift”. The head maid is following behind you, and Nanami behind her as you trudge toward the waiting carriage. Suguru is standing beside it with Yuta, and at the sight of you in the kimono, his lips turn up slightly.

When you finally reach the door of the carriage, Suguru bows his head slightly. “You are absolutely radiant in my mother’s kimono, my love.” You spare a glance back at Kaori, who shrugs, smiling. Suddenly, careening out of the camp comes three panting children: Nobara, Yuji, and Junpei, who have hands full of random wildflowers.

“For you!” Yuji announces, shoving his share of the flowers into your hands. Junpei and Nobara follow his lead, and you can’t help but laugh and smile at the displays of affection.

“Thank you, thank you,” you reply, and they line up behind each other. You wait for a signal of what to do, and Yuji gives it to you, clearing his throat and pointing to his forehead expectantly. “Ah,” you immediately realize they’re all waiting for a kiss goodbye. Your lips peck one, two, three foreheads, and then they take their palace beside Nanami, who shakes his head at the scene.

You turn back around to face the General, who is handing you two letters. “These are for your family. They will explain your return.” You nod your thanks and he holds his hand out as you step into the carriage, settling into the seat comfortably with the wildflowers in your lap. Kaori joins you - to your surprise - and you look to Geto for answers. “And I am sending her with you. She will not be separated from your side, it seems.” Kaori gives him a wide grin, then grasps your hand tightly.

“I have no greater desire than to remain with you, Lady y/n.”

“My General, you are too kind,” you murmur, staring into his onyx eyes for what feels like the last time.

“I will not spare any comfort when it comes to you,” he replies, and you reach a hand out of the carriage window to touch his face. He closes his eyes as he leans into your palm, then kisses it tenderly. You lean out of the window fully, capturing his face with both hands and kissing him in front of the entire camp but not caring.

“Come back to me,” you whisper as you pull away. “Please, come back to me.”

“Wait for me, then, my love,” He replies, taking both of your hands and kissing your knuckles. You slide back into your seat, the sting of fresh tears pricking at your eyes as he orders the driver to go ahead. The horses pull your carriage away from the gathered group, and you watch them disappear into the distance until you could see them no more.

That’s when the real tears begin to leak from your eyes. And unfortunately, these are the ones you can’t stop.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Y/n!” Your mother rushes to meet you, squealing with joy at the sight of her youngest child returning home. Your father is behind her, standing in the open doorway with the ghost of a grin on his face.

“Mother,” you greet her, hugging her tightly and inhaling the scent of jasmine from her hair.

“You look so beautiful - oh, and who is this?” She peeks over your shoulder at Kaori, and you smile widely.

“This is Kaori. She’s my maid from the ca--”

“From the Imperial Palace.” Kaori corrects you quickly, and you nod, remembering your ruse.

“She’s very skilled at her job and wouldn’t be parted from me.” You remember the letters Suguru had given you and present them to your mother quickly. “These are for you.”

“Oh, come inside! You’ll probably want to get settled and rest before dinner.” You look up at the place you call your home and remember the way it looks, the way it smells, the way the walls feel as you run your hands over them… but it doesn’t feel like home. Nothing feels like home anymore.

Even your old room seems foreign compared to the General’s tent, despite everything being as you left it. Kaori looks around the space and you give her a grim smile, hoping it would ease her fears about the new space. But when she gives you a genuine, loving smile, you know it’s going to be alright.

“Y/n,” your mother calls out, entering your room with a letter in her hand. “This is for you. Not sure if you got it mixed up or not, but here you go.”

“What did yours say?” you wonder, taking the letter in your hands with trepidation.

“Oh, the Prince made it very clear that he would be taking care of you financially while you’re here, despite the fact that you’re so terribly far from the palace. He’s sending money to take care of all of your needs for as long as you’re staying in the village.” You frown at this, wondering why he didn’t just give you money outright, but you nod anyways. “Also, he’s asked someone to come and be your bodyguard… but he wouldn’t say who it was. I thought you should have come with one, but the Prince says he’s a specialist, so…” You blink twice, trying to make sense of her rambles, but shake your head and fiddle with the letter you hold in your hands. When you open it, you slowly read each and every word written by Geto.

“My dearest,

I write to you knowing that you are feeling alone, even though you are surrounded by your family and Kaori. Do not worry; you all are safe and well-protected. I will be sending Toji Fushiguro to your home, where he will protect you and your family should something go awry. I have paid him a hefty sum and will continue to pay him, regardless of the outcome of this war, so make sure Kaori doesn’t lose her head trying to deal with him. He’s a special breed.

Communication will be impossible. Do not send a letter, speak of, or attempt to get anyone from your village to contact the camp. This is for your safety as well as theirs. Yuji, Nobara, and Junpei’s survival depends on you keeping this secret between you and Kaori. Even Toji is not aware of the camp’s true whereabouts, which benefits everyone involved.

Lastly, I love you. Life was terribly boring before you came along, and I look forward to the day when my eyes can rest upon your face again. Without you, things look bleak.

Wait for me.

I’ll come back for you as soon as this is all over.”

_______________________________________________________________________

A massive brute of a man is standing in front of you, holding a toddler who looks almost exactly like him in his arms. A black shirt is stretched thin across his chest, as if he were some man who only wore one thing ever. You stand in the doorway, arms crossed over your chest while you look him up and down, scowling.

“Geto didn’t say you’d be bringing a kid.” You jerk your chin at him, and Toji rolls his eyes.

“He also didn’t say he’d fallen for a brat, so I guess both of us were left out of the loop.” When he pushes past you and lets the child slide off of his hip, your mother instantly goes into her nurturing mode.

“Oh, you must be her lovely bodyguard!” She circles around him, eyes glowing with a light you’ve never seen before. “He never mentioned you’d be so… so…”

“Let me guess… handsome?” Kaori grumbles beside you, mirroring your stance.

“Yes, so handsome.” Toji grins at your mother, now the epitome of manners and poise.

“My lady, you are too kind.”

“And look at your son! Ah, he’s the spitting image of you. What is your name, darling?”

“Megumi,” the child replies, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands and looking around the foyer of the house curiously.

“Megumi and Toji, we’ve made the guest room up for you and dinner will be ready shortly, if you’re hungry.” Toji clasps his hands together and smiles while your mother retreats to the kitchen, then looks over to his son, who's taken interest in the painting hanging on the wall.

“This is perfect. I’ll have to give Geto my thanks if he returns…” Toji disappears into the kitchen, Megumi following not too far behind him.

_______________________________________________________________________

A few weeks later, the idea of visiting the village square feels familiar enough to you that you’re not anxious as you walk around to get some fresh air and shop at your leisure. Kaori is beside you with a basket full of fruits and vegetables, eagerly perusing the carts of fresh fish and meats.

Anything that could get you out of the house and away from the stony gaze of Toji Fushiguro was welcome, and shopping seemed to be just the thing that he wouldn’t even dare get his legs up to do. He had waved you off when you mentioned your plan - instead, choosing to teach Megumi how to spar - and Kaori and you had quickly ran to the gates, anticipating the excitement of being somewhat free from his supervision.

“We never had this at the camp,” Kaori mentions and takes a sniff of the ginger root she had purchased earlier. “I love this idea - everything is on display to pick and choose from.” You acknowledge her comment with a hum, keeping an eye out for one particular person as you roam about the square. But even when you peek your head into the potter’s shop, you see no one except his betrothed - perhaps, wife - sitting among the various articles of clay.

“Is Yuko here?” You inquire and she looks up from the kaolin to see you. Her brown hair is tied up in a bun and her green eyes drift over your attire before she gasps.

“Oh!” She stands immediately, hands chalky. “You’re back!” You don’t know the woman, nor have you ever known her, but the fact that she knew you was a little concerning.

“I’m sorry, do we…”

“Yuko has told me so much about you, Lady y/n. Please, come with me. I’ll clean up and make you something nice to e--”

“Yuko’s spoken about me?” you ask, and the woman smiles widely.

“Of course he has; you’re Suguru’s lover.” Kaori starts a little next to you, gripping the basket with both hands. Before you can ask how she knows so much information about you, she shakes her head quickly. “I’m sorry, I must’ve forgotten to mention: I’m related to Yuta; we’re siblings. We know all about your trip, and we’ve been expecting you.”

“And where is--” The woman wipes her hands on a towel and approaches you.

“I’m afraid you’re a few days too late. Yuko got the call that he would need to serve the Emperor in the Imperial Warriors and left. Rest assured, he hasn’t turned coat, though. Like many of those who are with the General, we will fight on the other side then become informants or turn against our squads at the last minute.” She pats your elbow and then steps back, remembering her place. “The General will win the war, my Lady. And he will come back. Yuta has given us the assurance that everything will go to plan.”

“Are you sure?” you whisper, and she winks at you.

“Trust me, the General is much stronger than you think. I’ve seen the way he can decimate a village first hand.”

“You have?”

“My lady, I think that we should g--” You shrug Kaori’s hand off of your shoulder before taking a seat beside the pottery wheel.

“Tell me everything.”

Before the woman can open her mouth, however, a massive commotion begins outside. You jolt out of the chair and peer out of the door, watching a crowd of people begin to gather at the square’s fountain.

You hadn’t been gone so long that you didn’t remember the thrill of news from the town’s announcer, and you’re fortunate that you can hear the man from the doorway.

“From the Imperial Palace! The forces of General Geto Suguru have been surrounded at the foot of Mount Takadashi and completely wiped out by Prince Naoya’s army. The Emperor is ordering a week of festivities in celebration of Prince Naoya’s victory, which will begin tomorrow at noon!” Riotous cheers erupt around the square, and for a moment, you’re stuck in the doorway, your mind going absolutely blank.

Kaori drops her basket, Yuko’s wife gasps, and you...

Gojo. Haibara. Yuta. Nanami. The children. Geto.

Gone.

The world shakes furiously under your feet, and you careen backwards, losing all of your senses at once as your knees buckle and you black out.

_______________________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @kamisamaundercover @jotazinha @just4readingfics @mxhi @sammytamaki @brownskinnedgirll @keelyshayee @leanne-tamashi @vabybizzle @amaris9 @fuegy-fuegy

#geto x reader #jjk geto #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen getou #getou x reader #getou suguru #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jjk nanami #jjk gojo #jjk yuta #jjk toji #jjk megumi #jjk imagines #toji fushiguro #megumi fushiguro

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retrievablememories · 4 years ago

Text

stay with me | jungkook

title: stay with me pairing: jungkook x reader genre: fluff, implied smut request: “can you write a fluff with a hint of smut drabble for Jungkook of BTS attempting to keep his morning person significant other in bed on a off day for them both?” word count: 839 warnings: a bit suggestive, but nothing too serious

You wake up at the same time you always do every morning—“early as hell o’clock,” Jungkook calls it, though it’s really only 8:30 a.m. You’ve gotten so used to it over the years that you don’t even need an alarm clock to wake up on time anymore, which is probably a good thing. At least for your boyfriend, anyway. He hates being woken up with the alarm blaring in his eardrums, though you both know that it’s pretty much the only surefire way to get him up in the morning—just short of wrestling him out of bed.

You quietly get out of bed and go to the bathroom to take a shower, humming to yourself as the water warms up. You hear Jungkook move around in the bedroom through the open crack of the door, but he still doesn’t attempt to get up.

Before you can step into the shower, you hear him speak. “Y/N…” He calls for you softly, and you slightly peek out of the bathroom doorway to see what’s the matter.

“What is it, Kookie?”

“What are you doing? Come back to bed,” he mumbles, his eyes closed against the sliver of light shining out of the bathroom.

“I’m only taking a shower,” you reply, giggling at the sight of his adorable messy hair and bare face.

He makes a sound that you think is an affirmative that he heard your words, and he settles back down, but not before saying, “Okay, but hurry up and come back here when you finish…”

Jungkook is already fast asleep seconds after his head hits the pillow, and you shake your head, smiling to yourself.

When you get out of the shower, you walk into the room to find him still sleeping. By now it’s 9 a.m., which is still way too early for him, but you feel thoroughly refreshed and ready to start the day. You walk over to the bed and prod at his shoulder until he groans and tries to swat your hand away; then, as if just now realizing it’s you, he grasps your wrist.

“Get back in bed,” he says. “Please?”

“Jungkook, it’s 9 a.m. Won’t you have some coffee with me? I’ll make it just how you like it. Maybe it’ll help you wake up.”

“I don’t want coffee, I want you.” Jungkook pulls you closer by the wrist, so much so that your body leans over the bed and you have to put one knee on the mattress to keep from falling over. You have to use your free hand to keep your towel from sliding off, and now you have the thought that maybe you should’ve gotten dressed before attempting to wake this man up.

“You can have me, but you gotta get up first...please? I want to start the day.” You would use your best pleading expression on him like you usually do, but he’s still blinking the sleep from his eyes and it probably wouldn’t be as effective right now.

“Who says you can’t start the day in bed? Or...not start it at all?” Jungkook lets go of your wrist now, but only so he can draw his tattooed fingers up the length of your arm, making your skin tingle.

“Do you really want to just stay here?” You groan, though you are smiling.

“Yes. We most definitely can,” Jungkook replies. “There’s nothing else to do today...nothing else important, at least. It’s literally one of the only free days we have. It’s okay to enjoy it.” Jungkook’s hand leaves your arm and goes to your side, tickling you through the soft material of the towel, and you go crumpling to the mattress. With you fully back on the bed now, he’s able to pin you against his body and continue tickling you until you’re howling with laughter.

Jungkook tucks his head into your neck, laughing and smiling against your skin, your body heat mingling together. His hands eventually still on your body, though not completely; his fingers pause at the section of your towel that has unraveled from all your moving around, and he walks his fingers down from your sternum towards your abdomen.

“Now what are you doing?” you ask, though you can very well tell what his intentions are, from his grin spreading against your cheek to the way his body finally awakens with a familiar amorous emotion.

“Finding a reason for us to stay in bed all day.” And before he’s even finished the sentence, you’re gasping at the first touch of his hand on you.

#jungkook scenarios #jungkook drabbles #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts drabbles #bts fic #jungkook fic #jungkook #bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook smut #bts smut

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piratesfromspace · 4 years ago

Text

Training Day

Frank Castle (the Punisher) x Reader

Word count: 2k TW: knifeplay, mention of death and violence, gun, sexual tension, mention of alcohol

Female pronouns for reader

Note: Please keep in mind that in real life knifeplay should ALWAYS be discussed with your partner before anything, and that you should play with the safety of your partner being a priority. Stay safe.

“Again”

You scramble up on your feet, with a little bit less enthusiasm than at the beginning of your lesson. It was at least the 6th time you had fallen hard on the ground. You’re starting to seriously question what seemed like a very good idea at first. Who would pass the opportunity to be trained by such a competent fighter? By the Punisher himself? Definitely not you.

You, the little rich girl forced into the streets and into hiding after your estranged father - a shady politician - messed with the wrong mafia boss. Your privileged life had fallen apart in a matter of seconds a year ago, half your family killed in the process, and since then you had learned that any valuable lesson usually came the (very) hard way. So when the vigilante had run into you while investigating said mafia, alone and in dire need of some help, he had wordlessly offered his protection and you had gladly accepted. Despite his brutality in a fight and his very unique moral code, you understood very quickly it wasn’t really the first time he chose to protect a runaway.

And here you are, on the floor of his small modest apartment, trying to apply the self defense techniques he taught you. You’re not the best student and it’s beginning to be a little bit annoying, the feeling of failure gnawing at the edge of your already pretty low self-confidence.

“Come on, try to catch this gun, I know you can do it.”

You take a deep breath through your nose, you shake your head a little, and without any warning you throw yourself toward him with all the strength you’ve got left. He dodges your attack with a surprising speed considering his massive frame, grabs your shoulder and throws you forward. You fall on the floor - again - and before you can get up, he’s on you, both knees on either side of your lean figure, his hips straddling yours. Gun pointed at you. You try to squirm to the side despite his legs caging you and you literally punch into his hand holding the gun. There’s a grunt of surprised pain, and the gun clatters to the floor. A small victory. Although it is kind of a cheat, knowing very well the nasty bruises and cuts already covering his right hand (he earned them in a fight against some tenacious gangsters a couple days ago) gave you an unfair advantage. But you’re not done yet.

Your secret weapon - a small pocket knife - has been hidden in your jacket sleeve, and you finally have the opportunity to take it out. With a grin you press the blade over his jeans against the inside of his thigh, where the artery would be. At the same time there is a metallic sheen in your visual field, and you unexpectedly feel the cold of steel against your throat. Of course, Frank fucking Castle has a knife of his own. And you were too caught in what you thought was the idea of the century to be wary of him striking back.

The blade of his combat knife is resting on your neck, barely touching your skin, but raising goosebumps anyway. He holds the weapon with a steady hand, careful not to hurt you.

“Not fast enough.”

his voice is always so impossibly deep, the tone confident. No trace of effort in it, while you’re trying to catch your breath under him.

“But I like the spirit. Keep it up, little one.”

You expect the exercise to be done, but he doesn’t budge, still straddling your hips, keeping you pinned to the floor. His blade flush against your throat. To anyone else, it would be a deadly threat, but not to you. You find it almost comforting to surrender like this, even though you know it’s not him who has the upper hand in the entirely different kind of game you’re both entangled since you met.

His body so close to yours, the adrenaline of the training, the thrill of the sharp edge of steel against your skin: it’s too much and not enough at the same time. You’re still trying to calm your breath, but now it’s for another reason than earlier. There is a moment of hesitation, you can feel it in the way his jaw clenches while his eyes look for yours. But whatever Castle has in mind, you don’t want him to stop. You bit your lips, raising your chin higher, baring your neck even more, just like animals do when they submit to a stronger one. The primitive display of submission awakens something feral in him.

He grabs slowly your wrist, the one threatening his thigh with the blunt pocket knife, and squeezes, just hard enough to make you let go of your weapon. It falls in a muffled thud on the carpet next to you as Castle lifts your arm above your head until he’s able to pin your wrist against the floor. He’s closer to you now, leaning over you, and you suddenly feel so small under him. He’s taking all your space, filling all your senses with what makes him him .

The heady scent of after-shave and smoke and a faint tangy smell that’s probably gunpowder.

The roughness of his denim and the delicious pressure of his fingers around your wrist.

The way he’s the only thing in the room you’re able to focus on, authority and confidence radiating from him.

The scars adorning his body - they are everywhere, some you can’t see, but others pretty obvious, and your eyes are going from one scar on his face to another, before landing on his lips.

When you meet his gaze, he’s already intently looking at you, and you can feel the dilemma playing in his mind. You’ve known him only for a couple months, but it feels like it’s been your entire life.

Frank Castle is not a very complicated man. He’s been hurt and betrayed in ways you unfortunately can relate to. He’s not a good man, he has killed and tortured too many to deserve to be called “good” - he’s not even interested in doing good himself. But, buried deep under the violence, the misanthropy and the anger, lies a sliver of hopeful belief, almost naive, that some of humanity can still be good. That somehow some of us can shine some light in the darkness of this world, and that those people need to be protected at all costs. Because they’re too pure to do what’s really necessary to fight off evil, he will do it. He will sacrifice his soul if it means a few can be saved. His conscience will never be clear ever again, so the least he can do is put to work his own wicked mind to support the good ones.

And for some misguided reasons, he thinks you’re one of those.

Compared to the fury he unleashes when he fights, the patience and softness he never fails to show you makes your heart flutter. It’s like he’s afraid he could hurt you more than life already did, no matter how many times you assure him he won’t. You’re pretty sure he would do anything you ask him to - he did kiss you that one time you asked, a few nights ago, both of you drunk on cheap whisky. Plush lips finding yours, callused hands gently holding the side of your face, his breath hot on your skin. The memory is brought back at the front of your mind, heat settling low in your belly.

This time it’s different though, he’s the one initiating whatever this is.

He moves his hips ever so slightly, unwillingly bringing your attention to his crotch and you can see how tight the fabric of his jeans has become. He follows your gaze but before he gets embarrassed, your eyes dart to his and in a bold move you lift your free hand to touch his thigh. Your own way to say this is ok. His lips part, and he shifts a bit again, unconsciously, pressing against your pelvic bone, the feeble friction enough to send a pleasant tingle in your body. You admire his calm and his sense of self-control though, because despite the now very visible desire burning in him, the blade on your throat is steadier than ever. Your hand leaves his thigh and slowly but surely wraps around his fingers on the handle of the knife. The tension is thick, the silence is deafening, the only noises your shallow breaths and the sound of fabric each time Castle is grounding your hips harder with his own.

You guide his hand with your own, removing the blade from your throat and as his pupils go wide, you bring it to your lips, pressing a kiss against the smooth steel. The gesture is both obscene and pious at the same time, like you’re paying respect to some holy relic, worshipping his own ability to take lives, revering the dark God he is.

“Fuck, girl…” he lets out in a growl, voice laced with admiration and with something else, something very unholy .

You’re actually surprised he allowed you to move his own arm, letting you take some control. The realization emboldens you. Maybe this will work . Frank Castle is too busy processing the aching fire that consumes him to anticipate your sudden attack. A mean twist of his wrist brings the knife to his own throat. The surprise makes him let go of your other hand, and you’re able to push him hard in the middle of his chest, your upper body surging up, legs coming out from under him. He tumbles backward, he’s swearing and laughing at the same time, like he’s actually amazed you managed to unsettle him. I can do it. You crawl on the floor as fast as you can, quickly grabbing the previously discarded gun and you turn around, aiming at him. I’ve got you Frank Castle, I won . He chuckles and raises his hands, surrendering to you.

“Not fast enough” you taunt him “but I liked the spirit”. You get up on your feet, and lower your aim. “Maybe I’ll teach you a thing or two.” This time you’re pushing your luck and you know it.

Frank smiles, and he gets up as well. He’s not wearing his Punisher gear, just his civilian clothes, a simple black shirt with sleeves rolled up, the thin fabric taut over his firm chest. Even from across the room, even without the kevlar vest, it’s impossible to forget how tall and broad he is, how the muscles of his forearms flex when he rubs the palm of his hand, how the bulge in his jeans leaves nothing to the imagination. You’re not the only one to stare though. Dark eyes are roaming your body, making your cheeks go red under his searing gaze.

A few seconds ago, you thought your training session was over but now you’re afraid your little stunt has done nothing to make him want to stop. And truth be told, you don’t want it to stop. Don’t want him to stop.

“Never lower your gun.” he breaks the silence, husky voice sending shivers down your spine.

“You still have a lot to learn, little girl.” he adds darkly, a smirk on his handsome face.

“Show me, then.” you reply too quickly for your own sake.

In a heartbeat, he’s on you, prying the gun from your hand, crushing you against the wall. There’s a split second of hesitation before his lips are on yours. His strong body pressed flush against your trembling figure, the tight knot of repressed desire finally snapping. And it feels good, so good you’re pretty sure your legs will give up under you. But it doesn’t matter because he’ll catch you, he’ll get you, of that you’re sure.

You know you’ve lost this round. But defeat has never tasted more like victory than now.

#frank castle x reader #the punisher #punisher x reader #frank castle imagine #knifeplay

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saphirered · 4 years ago

Note

would you mind doing a little scene maybe of caduceusxreader or maybe calebxreader where their s/o ends up hit with pollen during battle that gets them super high alla knott and the floor fruit style please?

Little turned into a bit more of a scenes instead 😅. A little disclaimer; I do not condone the abuse of substances especially not illegal ones. Listen to your auntie Saph, kids! Stay in school and be responsible! 😘

Content Warning: Use of mind altering substances.

It’s the middle of a fight in the jungle. You’re under attack by a large lizard walking on its hind legs, with some rather useless short arms but huge sharp teeth that have munched on Fjord one too many times leaving the half-orc in a bleeding and moody state without much of a chance to get out and not get hit again.

The battlefield is not in your favour considering this oversized lizard is about to turn your friend into its next meal but you still have a healing potion left and really, this is the time to use it but you can’t really get to Fjord without getting close to the lizard thing and even then you doubt you’d be able to get into arms reach of the man. Well it’s now or never and better than the alternative. You rush forward dodging below the toothy maw of the creature.

“Fjord! Catch!” With that you get as close as you can, tossing the healing potion. Fjord just barely catches it, thanking you but that quickly falls silent.

“Look out!” Caleb shouts as he releases a firebolt to strike the lizard. It does not stop the creature from swiping with its tail sending you flying with a brute force knocking the air out of you. Luckily your landing is softened by a comfy bed of flowers, moss and some mushrooms. You land a cloud of spores and pollen dusting around you and entering your lungs as the first breath you’re able to take. It leaves you coughing and sneezing but you shake it off. This is not the right time for allergies to be kicking in. You got a lizard to kill.

Together you fight off the lizard. Still taking quite some good hits you deliver some as well and in the end manage to kill the thing. Some of you worse for wear you unanimously decided taking a breather is probably a good idea. You find a comfy patch of moss that does not release a dust cloud the moment you touch it and let yourself fall into its soft embrace, eyes closed.

“I’m just going to lie down over here. Let me know when we’re moving again.” An odd sense of nausea kicks in so you turn to your side and just curl up in an attempt to get a little more comfortable on the jungle floor.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Caleb asks looking you over. Physically you're a bit worse for wear but not terribly so. A moment of rest should have you back on your feet. You phase out a bit letting yourself be dragged off in a moment of rest.

Not but five minutes later your moment of peace is disturbed by a warm, really warm but comfortable hand being placed on your arm and shaking you lightly. You curl up a little tighter before rolling on your back and meeting the bright blue eyes of Caleb. You don’t recall them being that bright, maybe more like a muted or pale blue but now they’re vibrant. Odd you hadn’t noticed before. Same goes for his hair, red is more fiery orange and you swear you can pick apart every single strand on his head as well as the light stubble he’s sporting.

"Hey." You smile at the wizard lovingly. You'll never tire of waking up to Caleb no matter of how much you might want to continue sleeping. Caleb's a handsome man but right now he looks absolutely angelic with the bleeding light creating a halo around him.

Maybe it’s just because of the faded green background behind Caleb that throws off the contrast? Besides, you might have fallen asleep in your five minutes of rest, your vision usually goes a bit blurry until things come into focus but that doesn’t really explain why Caleb is so high focus now… Odd but you dismiss it as exhaustion and the vast jungle getting to you. No, you definitely hit your head when that lizard tail swiped you. Maybe you have a concussion. Should ask the clerics to check that out later once they’ve gotten their rest. Now's not the time to bother them.

“Hey. Time to get up. We’re ready to move before nightfall comes around.” Ugh. Even his voice sounds angelic now? Caleb offers you a hand and helps you up from the comforts of your moss-bed. Somewhat reluctant you get up. The nausea gets worse and you put a hand over your mouth suppressing the urge to vomit.

“Are you alright?” Caleb stabilises you as you stumble a little, dizziness not making your nausea any better. Sweet gods those warm hands just make you want to curl up into their warmth forever but you repress the urge well aware Caleb isn’t exactly the fondest of pda and keep it more surface levels with the others around.

“Yeah. Totally fine just a bit ugh but I’ll be fine. Some more sleep will probably do me good.” You see the rest of the Nein is packed up and ready to continue. Weren’t they just unpacking when you closed your eyes five minutes ago? Okay so maybe those five minutes were closer to an hour or so? What kind of exhaustion fuelled time warp did you get stuck in? This exhaustion is really getting to you. You need a vacation; one with Caleb. Maybe with an ocean view? That sounds nice. You're getting side tracked. Time to travel.

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

The journey continues deeper into the jungle towards your destination and your limbs get heavier and heavier. Did Jester paint you some lead shoes and replace yours while you were asleep? Did she do your clothes too? Because your whole body feels so heavy.

You bump into Caleb’s side. A hand finds its way to the small of your back and the warmth returns. You didn’t realise you’re feeling so cold, freezing almost so you allow yourself to lean just a bit more into Caleb’s side to bask in the warmth provided by your flaming hot wizard.

“You don’t happen to be able to make someone do the floaty glide thingy Essek can do, can’t you?” Caleb is confused by your sudden question and the unfiltered sentencing. You usually formulate your words more carefully than this but it seems as if the word ‘gravity’ has escaped your vocabulary. Caleb blames it on exhaustion seeing your somewhat unfocused state and feeling the weight of your body leaning on him for support. You’ve been walking for hours, running for a few and fought a giant lizard of a forgotten era after all. You have every right to be tired and he'll support you in any way he can.

“Ah, I’m afraid not. But, we will be setting down for the night once we reach a clear spot.” Didn’t you catch that conversation? You were there for it providing nods and noises of agreement while keeping an eye out for anything approaching. This is a bit odd for you so Caleb decides to keep an eye on you.

You hear birds chirping around you, their song drowning out Caleb’s words but not voice as he talks to you but the song is just too beautiful, it brings a smile to your face. Looking around you can see them sometimes. Colourful feathers popping against the green and the muted flashes of a sun lowering. If the sun’s going to sleep, you want to go soon too. It’s not really fair if you have to keep walking when it gets to lie down.

The colours and patterns through the leaves are very pretty though and the rays bleeding through are to die for. The world should look like this forever. It’s so beautiful, pulsing with every breath you take. No, you’re breathing with the nature around you. You get a newfound respect for Caduceus and Fjord’s Wildmom. She’s pretty cool if she’s responsible for all this. Is she responsible for all this? She gets your credit anyway.

You’re pulled to a sudden stop, or at least it feels sudden. Caleb is suddenly in front of you pulling your focus towards him and away from the chirping birds and the setting sun and the Wildmom. You’d ask Caleb to leave you alone but his gentle smile alone and warm hands on your shoulders pushing you down to sit on a tree stump call for your undivided attention in turn pulling it away from the gently blowing breeze and kaleidoscope of colours.

“You’re exhausted. Sit down and rest while we set up.” Caleb suggests and you find yourself nodding the words not entirely registering. Warm fingers press against your cheek before they pull away all too soon. The warmth leaves your body as Caleb leaves your side and the freezing cold returns. You wrap your coat tighter around yourself in an effort to preserve the heat but nothing seems to work.

You try to focus on your surroundings to distract from the icy cold, the humid jungle temperatures doing nothing to keep you warm. The crickets provide a beautiful symphony with the rustling leaves, the last of the song birds going to sleep and the awakening of the nocturnal creatures. It helps and you find yourself swaying lightly from side to side with the melody. It brings you a sense of happiness and content as well as a connection to everything around you.

You feel yourself beginning to drift when something warm and soft and a little heavy is draped across your shoulders. The warmth is similar to Caleb but not entirely the same, though you’re met with an intense smell of molasses, old books and whatever remains after a fire has turned to embers. Your eyes fall upon the dark purple material of Caleb’s coat; most of all the geometric patterns of the lining. They are enchanting and you feel like you could get lost in them.

“You’re shivering. Come. We’re all set up.” You once again allow Caleb to guide you back to your feet and pull you along to where the Nein had set up. Sitting down with you Caleb takes out his spellbook and a small crystal bead. You've always loved watching Caleb cast spells, something alluring to the practiced words and patterns. He begins to weave his hands through the air in front of him, the light sparks of magic following his fingertips as he speaks the words, what you didn’t expect to see is the trails left by the motions. You’ve never seen those before. That’s new. They’re very pretty though; a warm orange trail of embers just like him. Enamoured you stare, making no effort to hide or avert your gaze. You catch Caleb's eyes and he offers you a half smile which you dopily return continuing to watch the patterns.

You’re rudely pulled out of your trance by Caduceus offering you a bowl of food. Usually you would have jumped at the promise of food, the firbolg’s cooking is unrivalled but now the nausea comes back and your stomach twists at the smell alone. You turn to the side fighting the urge vomit and as politely as possible and decline the delicious food much to your dismay.

Caleb does accept the food he’s offered as Veth happily accepts your serving as seconds. Caleb sniffs the food expecting it to smell off somehow because of your reaction but it doesn’t. It’s as perfect as ever and you’re not one to refuse food when offered. As he begins eating you excuse yourself finding a spot where you don’t have to look at your friends consuming their food both, because of the strong smell and the look of it. While delicious the thought of the texture sends your brain in overdrive where you get an overwhelming phantom taste which only intensifies the nausea.

Finding a spot still within the dome but far enough to be comfortable you just watch the geometric patterns in the lining of Caleb’s coat. Not only do you focus on the patterns but you’re pretty sure you can count the individual threats of the fabric. The colours and contrast intense pull you in almost pervasively so.

A hand shakes your shoulder turning you to face them. It’s Caleb and he looks rather worried. The expression alone carries over to you. What’s he worried about? It’s not bad is it? Is it because of you? Oh, no maybe it is you… You’re set into a train of emotions and anxiety and when Caleb notices his expression softens but the worry does not leave.

“Hey, hey. I need you to breathe, okay? Just keep breathing.” You follow his instructions taking deep breathes and the anxiety mutes replaced by a hyper fixation on Caleb. Literally, everything around the wizard fades into the distance when he steps into your vision but you manage to force yourself to be aware of your surroundings with a lot of effort.

“Very good. Now, you want to tell me what’s going on?” From over Caleb’s shoulder you see Veth stuff her mouth with the food you refused and that alone is enough to make you gag. Caleb notices and shifts to break your line of sight. Oh no, you can smell it again. You cover your mouth and nose and lean forward letting your forehead fall against his clavicle taking deep breaths of the comfy molasses, old pages and smouldering fire scent.

“I don’t know but one more sniff of food and I’ll vomit so please take mercy on me and save me from the savoury deliciousness until this nausea passes.” Caleb wraps his arms around you, one hand rubbing circles into your back while the other lightly plays with the hairs on the back of your neck to alleviate your suffering. Of course he’s trying to piece together what’s happened because you’re behaviour added up is not entirely like you. Right now his priority is making sure you're comfortable.

He keeps this going as one by one the Nein goes to sleep, Caleb and by default you taking the first watch. You don’t yet feel comfortable removing yourself from Caleb’s arms but do find a more comfortable position for the both of you to spare you the numbness of limbs.

The longer you sit around your mind starts to feel less hazy, the hyper focus lessens and your stomach calls for sustenance, the nausea fading. Luckily Caduceus had saved you some leftovers which you happily nibble on. The spices and herbs providing extra flavours are intense but no longer unwelcome or nauseating. Regardless of what caused this all, you didn’t think Caduceus’ food could taste any better but damn does it taste beyond divine. You’ve rediscovered your appetite and finish the leftovers.

While sitting in Caleb’s embrace, head on his stomach holding the book you’re both reading Caleb’s coat long since returned to him you’re feeling mentally exhausted, but your mind is at ease, as if all stress and pressure of the world around you has faded for just a moment. You’re at peace in the arms of the man you love and surrounded by your friends.

The realisation that despite all the bad you’ve gone through together it’s all been worth it a thousand times over and you wouldn’t change a thing. A yawn escapes as you turn the page, knowing Caleb will have read it several times at this point.

“Tired?”

“Exhausted.”

“You’d think with all the breaks and rest you’ve already gotten today you’d have trouble sleeping again.” Caleb recalls the times where you’ve taken breaks before and spent half of the night up getting rid of the energy just to get a moment of sleep in the more stressful days where sleep does not come easily; days like the past few have been.

“I would have but none of those times did I actually catch a break. I was nauseas for hours, everything felt and looked intense, could only focus on one thing at the time visually even though for some reason I was hyper aware of my senses.” You turn the page again as Caleb pulls you a little closer, about to press a kiss to your shoulder. He stops, retreats and instead brushes his fingers over it.

“Maybe I was just on an exhaustion or anxiety high running on my last bit of energy and now we get a moment to relax and breathe, that’s what gotten me back to earth.” Caleb doesn’t respond and when you look up at him from over your shoulder you see Caleb closely inspecting the fingers he brushed over your shoulder.

“You know, I’m beginning doubt this change of mood was induced by exhaustion.” He runs his fingers together and you see the light dust pulverise. Confused you signal for Caleb to elaborate on his train of thought because you’re still feeling a little slow.

“Remember the tumble you took into the patch of flowers and mushrooms?”

“You mean when I got my ask kicked by an oversized lizard? Yeah, hard to forget.” You grasp at your ribs as if to relief a still lasting ache from the hit of the creature’s tail. You turn around, putting the book down and sit on your knees between Caleb’s legs as things begin to fall into place for the both of you. Your landing... Oh no...

“I don’t think that dust cloud upon impact was just dust or pollen.” You throw your head back and groan. Unbelievable. Through the lasting peace and calm you feel the embarrassment peak through as well as annoyance at the whole situation.

“So you’re telling me I’ve been tripping balls for the past six or so hours?”

“That is exactly what I’m saying.” Caleb states deadpanned before he breaks and laughs at you. You deserve it really. Stubbornness to admit something’s wrong is what got you so far. Should have told someone you weren’t feeling right and it definitely wasn’t exhaustion but no and it was already too late when the ‘beauty of the world’ took hold of your mind.

“Well then, take comfort that it’s not just the spores leave me completely enamoured with you.” You peck Caleb’s nose and poke his stomach to get him to quit laughing before he wakes up the others. You won’t hear the end of this that’s for damn sure so best to keep this incident between the two of you. Let the other’s believe you’re just over-exhausted.

#critical role #critical role x reader #critrole x reader #mighty nein x reader #mighty nein #caleb x reader #caleb widogast x reader

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sassooda · 3 years ago

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Worlds Away JJK AU / Chapter 60 - Fear 🔞

w/c - 7,370

Elska comes through the portal first, followed by Itadori, Toji who carries Gojo, Naoya then Choso. Her first instinct is to run and jump onto her own bed, lying supine while taking in the familiar scenery with a true smile. She props up to her elbows and quickly pulls down the dark blue bedding as Toji carries Satoru’s slumbering body over to the space next to her. “Finally, we can put you somewhere comfortable, Sati!”, she speaks quietly, adoring her silver haired lover, missing his voice and odd mannerisms. While her beloved helps to adjust Satoru’s legs underneath the blankets, she sighs gratefully to how the two men’s dynamic has drastically change over the last months. ‘There was a time when they fought to the death…’, ringing in her mind as Toji glances over with a caring expression, stealing a reflexive smile from her.

Naoya stretches his arms, feeling alleviated now that they’re out of the compound. He looks over the two beds, shaking his head and chuckling at how they need that many in order to provide for everyone. There are still moments where he’s blown away by the polyamorous association he’s now knee-deep in, never having guessed he’d willingly engage or allow his future wife to either. He sits down beside Elska, on the edge of the bed as she tucks Gojo in, patiently waiting for her attention. Naoya has the highest of hopes for Gojo’s awakening and secretly prays that the Titers have it all wrong. ‘What do I do if he does become a monster though?’, the very thought plaguing his soul as his eyes fall to Elska and he takes in the sheer affection she holds for the shaman. He’s already figured Gojo will be nearly unstoppable if they’re lucky, and not doomed by the foretold fate of his being even more so unrivaled.

Toji walks around to the other side of the bed where his cousin and Elska sit. “I know I said I’d feed you doll, but I probably need to fill Nanami in on some things.”, his voice regretful as he’d rather stay and provide sustenance instead. ‘Someone has to report it all though…’, the responsibility of ensuring clear communication forcing his hand. “Doll, I guess Naoya will get his wish but I’ll be back soon. I want to see Megs as well.”.

Itadori, who is still embarrassed by the situation he woke up to, insists, “I’ll go with you! I need to find Nobura. I kind of gave her the impression that I was going to be back way sooner…”. He hugs his brother one more time and says, “I’ll be back too, after I smooth things out with her.”, the confidence in his tone undetectable though he tries to fake it anyways.

Choso nods his head with understanding before turning his focus onto Naoya who’s giddily positioning himself in a way that allows Elska access to his neck and lap. “I want to feed her too!”, he whines, frowning to Elska’s expression that tells him its not likely to happen right now. He visually follows his brother towards the door, becoming slightly annoyed by Naoya’s attitudinal sigh.

“Cho you need to quit that. Your blood does the opposite of mine which is why we can’t allow it.”, Naoya furrows his brow to further express that the being is treading over into his territory. “I know things are different now but you don’t get the same privileges as us.”, he adamantly states while leaning forward and hooking Elska with his arm to pull her onto him. To his dismay he senses the slight depression in her presence from his rejection of Choso but he’s unable to hide the discontent on his face.

Elska’s eyes begin to glow as she watches her prince glare back, her fangs forming instantly as the sight of Naoya like this inadvertently rouses her desires. She staves off her hunger to bring her focus to Toji as he nears her to say temporary goodbyes. When his rough hand cups her cheek, she closes her eyes to drown her senses with his touch, loving the way it feels. “That’s alright my beloved, I’ll be here when you get back.”, already missing him as he and Itadori walk out of the door.

Choso sits on the other bed, facing her and Naoya while thinking, ‘Am I supposed to just watch?’, bothered by wanting to feel her bite again, wanting to hold up his end of the promise to the other her. He swallows hard though as Naoya adjusts himself to give her room to straddle over his lap. He can’t even help it, merely witnessing this interaction turns him on fiercely.

Elska plants her lips to Naoya’s gently, giggling when she feels his smile form, causing her to kiss his teeth. They stare into each other for a moment, her thumb brushing across his bottom lip as his eyes begin to glow too. “At least you can’t stay mad at me…I don’t know why I’m like this.”, her lighthearted demeanor crushed by the haunting reminder that it seems she always wants more.

Naoya chuckles deeply while wrapping his arms around her and fastening his hold by grabbing his own wrists. “My princess, it would have been harder for me to understand before but now that I’m like you, it’s not so bizarre.”, he assures wholeheartedly even while battling the anger in his heart over Choso joining the equation. As she leans down to find his neck, his eyes take to the being who’s honed into their activity. He scoffs, “Don’t be weird Cho!”, raising an eyebrow to his unabashed fixation on them.

Choso squints his eyes because he doesn’t understand and rebuttals, “I am merely following my instincts.”. When Naoya moans to her puncture, Choso feels his lips part with anticipation. He closes his eyes to listen to her drink from the Zenin, breathing deeply as his senses inform him of her already billowing pheromones. ‘I love that scent…’, he tells himself, anxiously waiting for its inevitable rupture, longing to agonize under its mesmerizing spell. Without realizing it, his hand has already begun grabbing at his hardening flesh, desperate for relief.

Elska whimpers to Naoya’s wonderful taste, the energy it brings allowing her to recuperate from famine. His gasps fill her ears with pride, his love for her that she determines through his flavor filling her heart. His emotions pertaining to her are so fantastical that an arousing heat begins to build in her core, her thinking to him, ‘My prince, take me right now.’.

Naoya sighs heavily, “I will never deny you baby…”, biting his lip as he struggles to function and sloppily tugs down at his sweat pants. His eyes widen when she doesn’t even give him time to free himself, assisting him while she continues to feed. The groan that escapes when her delicate fingers wrap around him sounds off the beginning of their equally ravenous pining. Naoya’s having a hard time forming sentences as the bliss from her draw and the warmth from her body weighs over him as she guides herself over. “Wait…”, he whispers as his gaze falls to Choso, trying to gesticulate that the being should leave.

Choso folds his arms and informs, “I’m not going anywhere.”, ignoring his friend’s silent demands. Elska lifts her head from the Zenin’s neck and closes the wounds before sending her needy eyes to him which makes him squirm in place. “Elska…”, he whispers with lust as angles his brows in a way that expose his intentions of observing everything. “…You would benefit from my affections as well.”

Elska almost silently gasps to the bold statement, knowing full well that Naoya will not have it. She’s staring at Choso, trying to think of the best way to put it, being unsure if he can even hear. ‘He will not share me with you.’. The hybrids eyes waver which makes her feel like he understood but as she’s wordlessly expressing her sympathies, Naoya turns her face back to him.

“Baby…”, he hums against her lips, “You’re right, I won’t.”, sounding harsh but already planning to combat that with action. In a single motion, he pulls Elska down, shoving half of himself into her, whimpering to feeling her stretch around his girth. With his mouth hanging open, his tongue brushes along the edges of his top row of teeth as she sinks down over him. His moans sing through the air as her pheromones rip through them, competing for his senses.

Choso shudders while watching her work down over Naoya’s length and huffs up her scent. He’s bewildered by the Zenin’s actions and momentarily takes it as an insult until Naoya’s eyes deviously meet his own. ‘Is he trying to anger me?’, but his thoughts are silenced when she cries out in euphoria. “Elska…”, he whispers as she carefully starts riding Naoya, moaning as she adjusts.

She throws her head back as she accepts Naoya entirely, his wonderful member always stirring thoughts of his perfection while inside of her. Trailing her hand down his bare chest, she takes in all of the wonderful details that comprise of him, his skin, his build, the vastness of his heart. His mouth quickly latches to her breasts, his tongue flicking the hardened buds with the perfect amount of pressure and give. When his hands engulf her rear and help her with movement, her voice carries but she happily submits his control. “My prince…”, she whispers breathlessly, not wanting to subdue the audial pureness of his length sloshing through her arousal.

Choso stands up quickly but doesn’t move. He’s not sure as to what he should do as Naoya’s half lidded, glowing eyes fall to him with lust and his hips rise to meet her efforts. ‘Should I…try to join?’, he asks himself with complete muddle as he’s sincerely unsure of what Naoya’s thinking. He observes the Zenin grabbing her hair and tilting her head back while he marks her chest and instructing, “Is my baby enjoying being fucked in front of her newest turned?”, he smacks her ass with his left hand when she whines, “Yes, Master Naoya, I am!”. Choso takes a deep breath as he comprehends that his friend is purposefully displaying his bond with her to discourage any evolution between them. When the Zenin releases her hair, she falls forward a little into his chest but turns her head once more to land glowing eyes which causes his own to respond. Their individual, opposing signals are creating calamity in the being’s thought processing, his body twitching to the urge to force her teeth into him. ‘I want her to remember!’.

Naoya is reluctantly accepting the fact that he’s enjoying this far more than he should. There’s something about having Elska in front of someone else that longs for her that simply electrifies his existence. Even his aggravation that initially lived within over Choso’s familiarity with her subsides as the being’s obvious expression of envy lingers in his view. He’s feeling more aggressive than usual though and is having to keep himself in check as the hint of acceptance to his friend entering her as well creeps unwantedly in the back of his mind. As if he’s refueled, Naoya beings lifting her and ramming his hips upwards as gravity forces her back down. She doubles over and whimpers between gasps, the beautiful sounds rewriting any source of foulness in his mood from prior concerns. “Tell him baby…”, he pants out, “Tell Cho how my dick makes you feel.”, his heart fluttering when she contracts and clearly relishes the way he’s going about this.

Choso takes his first step towards them, taking advantage of Naoya’s words as she turns to face his direction once again. He whines quietly as her flushed expression becomes aimed at him, the visual trapping him with an invisible rope that lures him inches closer every time she breathlessly whimpers. He notices that Naoya is watching him but tries his best to ignore it as he reaches out for Elska’s face. She doesn’t pull away nor does Naoya snatch her back which confuses him further but he bears no complaints as she leans her head into his palm. Choso’s gaze quickly falls to Gojo lying down beside Naoya and the harsh reality of an opportunity like this arising again seeming scarce, the being decides now is a better time than any.

Naoya grunts when Choso dives in and sensually kisses Elska but it’s more out of frustration for not completely hating what he’s seeing. ‘What is wrong with me?’, he berates to himself until both of their eyes start to glow and it hits him. ‘We want to dominate her just as much as she wants to be dominated…’, the epiphany sending him into a fleeting stupor as he gathers the same thing happened with him and Toji at the Titer compound. When she slams down into his pelvis, he’s brought back to the current situation and finds himself even more resolved to make her unravel. Her voice was so tiny and full of shock when he hears, “Chos-“, and darts his eyes up to them both, instantly growling viciously. “WHAT ARE YOU FUCKING DOING?!”, Naoya screams out as his eyes fix to the being placing Elska’s face to his neck after he’d just dug a deep scratch into his own skin and is forcing her to drink it. Her presence darkens immediately, causing Naoya to freeze as he looks down and wheezes to not only being stuck beneath her but inside as well. “Shit.”, he defeatedly surmises out loud with apprehension.

Choso combs his fingers through her hair as she laps up everything spilling out, adoring the way her energy feels once his essence has entered her. “Elska…go easy on him.”, he caringly whispers in reference to Naoya, “He’s just afraid. You know this.”. When he registers her lowly voice humming in agreeance, he smiles with relief and turns to look at Naoya the best he can. “She was really upset after you and Toji rejected her but I think it will be okay now.”. He becomes unnerved though when the Zenin remains fearful, hoping that she wouldn’t actually retaliate in a way that would cause him harm.

Naoya inhales sharply with wide eyes, not trusting that this will go smoothly at all and is now brought back to her previous threat. “You will regret defying me!” blaring through his memories as her energy continues to surge and darken. He tries to scoot from beneath her but she growls menacingly as if to warn him to not move. “Cho…I can’t believe you fucking did that!”, he shouts with uncertainty, not giving up on escaping. He hears her words in his mind, ‘Stay down.’, but he ignores them and tries once again to shift away from her. Before Naoya knows it, splinters are dancing in front of his face as she sent energy into the corner of the headboard right next to him. He holds his breath and just in time, understands through his fear why she didn’t want him struggling. ‘They’ll hit me!’, he concludes while studying how she’s twisting towards the being. Naoya slams his body against the mattress as much as he can right as her wings rip through back and out into the open for display, their breeze rushing past his face.

Choso smiles widely to the her newly designed tips that show his dark red addition along the edges of her feathers. He chuckles a little before telling her, “They’re beautiful, Elska.”, and gasps lovingly at the novel brown dashes in her eyes that rest near Toji and Noaya’s colors when she lifts her head from his self-inflicted cut. “I’m apart of you as well now…”, he coos before crashing his lips to hers and melting to her returned affection as they moan into each other passionately.

“My hybrid.”, she soothes in her lowly voice after nipping his bottom lip, “Thank you for what you’ve done.”. She rolls her hips against Naoya while Choso’s tongue caresses her own, miserably laughing away from the being as she picks up on Naoya’s worry. Bringing her gaze down to him arrogantly, she smirks and threatens, “I will not hurt you but I will make you suffer.”, she narrows her eyes, “How dare you think to go against my will?”.

Naoya grits his teeth, glaring between her and Choso as he feels pinned and extremely vulnerable. ‘What does she mean by that?!’, he nervously wonders while trying to read her intentions, having no luck. She wraps her hand around his throat, squeezing enough to keep his attention while she begins riding him again. He’s so confused, not being sure of what will come of this or what she’s currently even doing. ‘Do I not affect her like I used to?’, he wonders in awe as she incites moans from him against his wishes.

Choso moves over more towards Naoya and frees himself from his pants, whimpering when she bobs her head over him without hesitation. His knees felt weak for a second but he remains standing strong as his relief to finally enjoying this act with her in the physical realm gives him strength. He knows exactly what she wants and moans wildly as he starts to rock his length down her throat. Naoya’s thunderous cries help fuel them both as Choso only desires to fulfil his master’s wants and needs, even if that means taking advantage of Naoya’s bewilderment. As he’s becoming lost in the moment his satisfaction is dismantled when Toji rushes him and slams him against the wall.

Elska releases an unholy shriek that shakes the room and she’s swiftly climbing up her beloved’s back to distract him from her hybrid. When Naoya jumps up on the bed she commands, “STAY!”, and glares with distrust as her prince flattens again, with spasming limbs. ‘Good…’, she thinks, ‘I’ve gained some more control now.’.

Toji darts his frantic eyes over to his cousin and feels a cold chill as she clearly immobilized him. “What the fuck is going on here?! Why would you allow this Choso?!”, he shouts into Choso’s face while straining to choke the being out while Elska claws at him. He shivers when she giggles into his ear, slowly turning his head to see her villainous smile. “Doll…why…”.

“Release him.”, another command seething from her lips. She laughs condescendingly at her beloved as he expresses his perplexity to his arms retracting. His eyes race to his hands that are soon resting at his side and he seems to stubbornly not accept that he’s not in control. She walks Toji back, until his legs hit the bed to which she uses her fingertips to push him down so he’s stuck near Naoya. “Watch.” Lacing fingers with Choso, she pulls him behind her and basks in his obsession, her body responding to every indication of his hands against her skin. He wastes no time guiding his length up into her, an amorous gasp cascading into the air as he moans down into her ear.

Naoya growls in absolute abhorrence to what she’s doing. “What did you do to us!?”, he demands as her half lidded, glowing eyes land on him. ‘Toji what the fuck is going on here?!’, he thinks to his cousin. ‘I can’t move!’.

Elska steadies Choso’s movements by grabbing his hand and then takes a few steps until she’s at the bed. “I am your master therefore you cannot resist me…”, she wickedly explains, “I believe I warned you of this.”, her lowly voice softening as she reaches down and brushes the blonde hair away from his amber eyes. Bringing her view to Toji as well she adds, “I wasn’t balanced enough before but things have changed.”. Her beloved’s stoic scowl makes her wet, the idea of him sustaining that expression while fucking her senseless compels the action of sending her tongue into his mouth. She angles her wings in a way that hovers over both of the men, her core throbbing at the force she can now enact to subdue them if she needs to. Her back arches when Choso slips through her folds and reaches around a hand to stimulate her further. “Fuck me my hybrid…fuck me while I dangle before them.”, she implores, straddling half of each of her turned that are on the bed.

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

Suguru knew the moment they left, the absence of her presence depressing him horribly. He’s managed to keep himself busy though since, checking in on Sain and speaking with the families of the maintenance Titers to express his dread over their deaths. He’s not even had the heart to go back to his own room until now and has spent the last half hour wondering through the compound as he also revolts to reentering his project room. When he opens the door and takes in the evidence of it having been occupied, he sighs deeply before sitting down on his bed. After brooding, he swivels his neck to look at the spot where he once laid with Elska sleeping on his chest. He tortures himself with the memory of holding her there, how her hair smelled, the way his hand sprawled out and covered her stomach… the intense chemistry they experienced the night before this scene. “Do I mean anything to you, little one?”, asking the ghosts of the compound as no one else was around. He flops back and outstretches his arms over head while contemplating that he might just be emotional to their abrupt exit. He knew that with Choso up and walking around again that things were going to be even more difficult than before since the hybrid still clearly has it out for him. “Why can’t I just tell him the truth?”, rubbing the bridge of his nose with exhaustion as he recalls the day Eso and him fought.

Kokoro wasn’t the most diplomatic man but he was adamant about installing certain measures that would protect Suguru as this would in turn, ensure his place at the top as the pseudo leader. At the original base where Suguru operated out of, there was a collection of special curses as well, ones designed to be loyal to the Titer clan’s goals. Using what is know as remnants, Kokoro was able to concoct creations out of these layering energies that are vastly unknown by most and infused them with weak curses that amounted from fallen Titers of the past. A fun fact, most of these curses were born of Satoru Gojo’s diabolical experiments along with his murderous actions towards clan members. This foresight to manifest these loyal curses laid way to one of few reasons Kokoro allowed Gojo to get away with these horrendous actions for so long. The energy from his own clan, something that Kokoro was very much in tune with, was easier to control and fabricate than if he’d outsourced to the outside world’s sorrows, something he didn’t want to risk with someone like Suguru finally being born. The day Eso returned from his search of more of his family members, he was greeted with an auspicious voice that gave a detailed description of Kechizu’s death. Never having trusted Getou in the first place and not questioning what these faceless words spoke to him, he rushed through the base with absolute fury and despair, not handling the demise of his youngest brother well at all. Once met with Suguru in his office, he began unleashing his techniques without restraint.

Getou’s eyes well up as he remembers trying to dodge the poisonous attacks, desperately wanting to explain the woeful situation. “I WOULD NEVER HURT KECHI!”, he screamed relentlessly, over and over but found that it proved to be useless, Eso was not going to listen. Suguru refused to counter the techniques being used on him as apart of him wallowed in severe culpability over the ordeal, his heart already shattered from when he held the small curse and had to end his pain.

Getou tosses over to his side, destroyed over the remembrance of hatred that seeped from Eso. It seemed like no matter what he did, the ones he cared about around him always died. ‘I was so fucking powerless…’, he reminds himself, tears spilling down and across his nose until their blending with the small saturated spot on the bed under his cheek. Only now does he continue down this heartbreaking memory as it takes him through the adrenaline he felt as the office walls around him crumbled, everything Eso’s energy touched rotting away instantly. As he was backed into the corner of the room, he resolved to accept his fate, not actually hating the justice that awaited him for he was truly broken over Kechi. Eso bellowed out, “BURN FOR WHAT YOU’VE DONE!”, and aims his final attack at the battered Getou. Suguru didn’t even close his eyes, knowing he deserved to suffer but the end never came. They unfastened completely, mystified by beastly curses that swarmed Eso and tore him apart before the Titer could even think to help. The tile floor was unforgiving as Getou collapsed to his knees, not even being sure if Eso cried out in agony as it all happened so fast. When the sounds of their gnawing on his flesh silenced and they submissively began approaching him, Suguru instinctually crushed that entire section of the room as his sanity drifted further away.

Suguru sits up in the bed and wipes away the evidence of his fragmented heart. Taking a deep breath, he resigns to changing out of his robes, currently being disgusted with what they stood for while he trudges up these dark thoughts. He saunters over to his drawers, aiming for fresh briefs as his sleep deprived mind begs him for solace. When he opens it though, he lifts and eyebrow and pulls out a skimpy pair of nude-colored lace panties and blushes as he automatically pictures Elska in them. An unexpected grin forms across his face, a cackle leaving his lips while he rummages through the drawer and finds one of her slips as well. He lifts the satin dress to his nose and inhales her natural scent, the wonderful aroma soothing his ruffled nerves. “I miss you already, isn’t that sad?”, he whispers while lowering the garment but carries it with him back by the bed after grabbing black briefs. While he undresses, he thinks back to the way he felt while inside of her, the wanton expression she wore as he worked his hips. He resents that he never got his own relief as they were interrupted by her heated lovers but sighs lustfully when recalling how she definitely did. “Perhaps I shouldn’t question your feelings for me…”, as he refuses to deny that she felt nothing between them.

Sitting back on the bed but on the other side, he sees a piece of paper folded up on the nightstand and grabs for it. He opens it up swiftly with excitement as he can’t imagine one of her turned wishing to correspond with him. It reads:

Suguru, I’m sorry that we’re leaving without saying anything but its best if we returned at this time. I know a lot has happened while we were here and that there are probably just as many gray areas now but I want to thank you for trying to set aside our differences to discuss the future and the attack. I once thought of you as a monster who felt nothing but I’ve been corrected on this view having learned more about you. I welcome our alliance and will work on expressing that to the others…although after our little…you know…it may be impossible. Toji said before that we could continue training but you’ll have to come here, there’s no way they’ll be ok with me going back now. I hope Sain feels better soon! Also, thank you for the roses, they really are beautiful.

Elska Oda

Suguru’s spirit lifts immensely as his eyes scan over it a second, even a third time. ‘She does care…’, sending a familiar wave of hope through his tattered soul. He cackles lightheartedly to her well wishes for Sain and finds himself tearing up yet again but this time, with odd rejuvenation as he contemplates on how she could still be so kind to him, even after everything. “You seem to have a soft spot for the wretched, little one.”, laughing through exhalation of his nose, rocked by the smile that seems to stain his face. He falls over to his side, elated by the letter left while tucking himself under the blankets. While he’s settling into place, happily reviewing their recent encounters again, he’s startled by a sudden buzzing that’s occurring under his left leg. “What the hell is that?!”, he sits back up and throws the covers away to find a tiny pink vibrator that has even tinier whiskers painted towards the tip. “Really now??”, he questions mischievously as he rotates it with his fingers, “Elska…what were doing in my bed?”, biting his lip as he imagines her servicing herself into a mess in the very spot in which he lays. A deep and needy groan rumbles from him as he turns it off and places it on the bedside table, staring at it and wondering if he shouldn’t check in on her. ‘I can sleep afterwards…’, he assures himself while adjusting his growing erection, donning his robe only to leave and find another bowl.

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Megumi goes to knock on the door, wanting to greet Elska and everyone else after having worried over them for so long. ‘Would she be able to forgive my mom?’. He’s spent more time with Sachiko and is glad for it as he was able to understand more about her position. ‘She’s just lost… but I know she wants to be around now.’. He notices the darkened presence which brings him to caution as he worries for what’s happening on the other side. His breath becomes hitched when Elska’s moans can be heard through the wooden barrier though and his hands sweat as they freeze over the handle. It isn’t until he hears his dad furiously shouting “STOP THIS!”, that he snaps back and becomes severely concerned that something is wrong. He opens the door but is motionless with embarrassment as his eyes soak up the scene.

Elska lifts her head from Naoya, who she was forcing into a romantic kiss, and softens her eyes for the younger Fushiguro. “Megumi…”, she calls out seductively, not missing his scared expression or the way his eyes wash over her exposed breasts that are flaunting over the front of her slip.

Choso stiffens up and backs out of her, wishing the young shaman would not have waltzed in like that. He senses Elska’s tactics of luring the boy and flashes his eyes to Toji, who’s wide-eyed and clearly mortified. When she goes to step toward the junior shaman, he grabs her arm and attempts, “Elska, you don’t need him. You have his father.”. He’s irritated by the way she yanks her arm away and continues to hone in on the young Fushiguro.

Naoya strains to lift his head and is met with success but wishes he could do more as he looks back and forth between her and the boy. “ELSKA, DON’T!”, he begs, snarling after its clear she plans to ignore their protests. He cries out, “HE’S JUST A KID GOD DAMNIT!”, dreadfully wishing to stop her more than ever. He’s still reeling over how she’s been cruelly forcing them to watch her and Choso, groping and lying over them as the newly turned took her from behind.

“DOLL LEAVE HIM OUT OF THIS!”, Toji grinds his teeth together, trying to sit up. “MEGS RUN!”, he screams as his abhorrence for this side of her takes to new heights, “I SWEAR TO GOD ELSKA, WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU ARE IN THERE, DON’T YOU TOUCH HIM!”, he roars viciously as his innate energy cumulates and threatens the mental shackles she has over him.

Elska giggles in her bareness, gently grasping Megumi’s hand and holding it to gauge his reaction. “It’s a Zenin thing…”, she asserts as she pulls him against her exposed breasts and proceeds with, “…it’s natural for you to desire me.”, and sinks her fangs into his neck.

Choso calls for his wings and then nods to Toji to inform him that he won’t allow for this to continue. He winces to the shock that appears over Megumi’s features as she lowers him slowly to his knees, this having been his first time being bitten. ‘Leave him alone, master. You shouldn’t do this…’.

Megumi tries his best to keep quiet but the excruciating ecstasy he feels from her bite is overbearing to the point where he can’t even think. When she moans into his ear and increases her presence, the stark reality of the maniacal ways she’s acting surges him with caution. He sees Choso approaching from behind and with terrified eyes, pleas for clarification for what’s going on.

“Elska…why are you doing this?”, Choso puts a hand on her shoulder and pulls lightly to signal that he wishes to see her directly. “Are you trying to make me jealous?”, he sincerely asks as if she’s a child acting out.

Elska removes her fangs from Megumi and closes his wounds. Still holding his hand, she turns to Choso and immaturely asks, “Did it work, my hybrid?”, giggling to the unamused face he gifts her with.

Choso embraces her, rubbing down her back as she whimpers, “No it did not. I’m upset that you would do that to him so carelessly. I thought you said you were going to focus.”. He grunts when she breaks their hug and practically drags the recovering Fushiguro to the bed. He frowns to what she’s insinuating and decides, “I’m not going to be apart of this if you’re going to involve him. It’s unnecessary and distasteful, even for you my pretty.”.

Elska growls, throwing Megumi down on the other side of Naoya, “I’m unsure if you’re complementing me or teasing. I don’t think I need to explain how I handle defiance, do I?”.

Naoya puts an arm over Megumi as if to shield him and whispers, “Are you ok? Did she hurt you?”.

Megumi, who’s still a little dazed mutters out, “I’ve…I’ve never felt anything like that.”, not meaning to disregard Naoya’s concern but honestly can’t get past that euphoric rush that nearly caused his heart to explode. It actually freaks him out though, not having fully comprehended what her fangs could do, how they could feel.

“Megs, are you ok?!”, Toji worriedly calls out, not being able to move yet. He sighs when his son finally answers yes but is scrambling to find a way out this. ‘Is she doing all of this just because we wouldn’t fuck her?!’, eating away at his brain as he would never have expected her to take it so far. He’s sweating bullets to the possibility of her doing something even more inappropriate to Megumi just to teach him a lesson, or even worse, turning him. Unable to ignore the calm banter between her and Choso, his anxieties explode, forcing him to an unlikable conclusion. He whispers to Naoya, “What if we try doing what she wants, lets just get it the fuck over with.”.

Naoya wheezes, “Are you kidding me? She might rip our dicks off!”, there’s not a single piece of him that dares to try this side of her. “This thing is fucking psychotic Toji!”.

Elska turns around after hearing that last bit. She slowly walks over to Naoya and crawls onto the bed before straddling him. He squeaks nervously as she settles over his lap and brings her hands to cup his cheeks. “I thought you loved me my prince, what of these nasty words?”, after she speaks them though she leans down over Toji and makes out with him, more impressed by her beloved’s efforts to try. “Good boy…”, she conceitedly seethes. She sits up to glare at Choso who is adamant about not giving her what she wants so long as Megumi remains so she snarls, “My Sati would do this without question. He truly is special.”. Her eyes reach her silver shaman and she quakes to what he’ll become. “He may be too powerful…”, she admits but continues on to say, “…but that means he will be the only one that can rule me.”, a salacious whimper leaving her while envisioning all the ways he’ll bend her to his will. She’s brought back to where they are again as Naoya scoffs and squirms a bit beneath her. “You are the most defiant turned in all of history.”, wanting to break him into submission but feeling that draining affect he has on her. She gets up and faces Choso, “I need your blood again.”, demanding his assistance and being pleased when he ultimately gives in to her request.

Choso is disappointed by her behavior. He understands that she’s been cooped up for a long time but in no way does he condone this developing situation. He also does not wish to refuse her so he offers his neck and holds her dearly as she nuzzles her nose against his skin. His eyes shoot to Megumi, Toji and Naoya though, knowing it’ll be best to convince her to stop this foolishness before she does something to harm any of them. It seems as if she’s going to bite but she stops and turns to face the wall, her expression completely morphed into excitement as her eyes begin glowing violet.

Naoya feels his body coming back to life, as if the invisible weight that kept him and his cousin pinned subsides and he gathers its because she’s weakening by the second. He’s almost able to sit up but is more concentrated on a way to get Megumi out of there. ‘If I use my projection to run him out and then again to charge her, would she strike to kill?’, he wonders uncertainly as he can’t tell what’s going through her mind. He takes a deep breath and remembers his princess as she was, the beautiful minx that stole his heart. With mixed emotions, his eyes dart to Suguru who has randomly appeared but ultimately is thankful as he can sense the Titer is aware of something being destructively wrong. ‘I never thought I’d be happy to see that fucker…’, he surmises with surprise, knowing this may be the best chance he has of removing the junior shaman. Hoping that his coordination isn’t as shotty as he fears, he grabs up Megumi and starts preparing to enact his plan.

Toji tries to warn Suguru as soon as he manifests but the words simply escaped him as the Titer fumes over what he’s seeing and says, “What the fuck is this?!”. Toji rolls himself to the edge and forces himself upright as Elska now hones in on Getou. He sees the violet light and begs, “ELSKA STOP!”. He knows she’s been trying to turn him for some time now and resents the fact that he’s unable to do a damn thing to stop this from finally unfolding. A breeze coils over him and he turns to see that Naoya took Megumi away and at least has that brief relief.

“My, my… the seductive Titer… what wonderful timing…”, her lowly voice visibly disturbing the tall long-haired man. She takes in his hesitation but casts it aside so she can open his robes to see his beauty once more. She whimpers to his wonderful body, wanting to feel it against her own again. Licking her lips, she sends him dead but dangerous glowing eyes as she backs him against the wall and trails wettened butterflies across his chest. When he stiffens even more she taunts, “Don’t you want to fuck me again?”, laughing maliciously to his disbelief. She licks the targeted spot on his chest, “Don’t you want to be mine once and for all?”, moaning to his dark brown eyes that swirl with the identifiers of a truly tortured soul. She doesn’t allow him to speak nor does she acknowledge Toji’s or Choso’s meek attempts to change her mind. “He is worthy!”, she snaps without changing her view.

Naoya senses her ancient energy and crumbles to the knowledge of Suguru appearing. “No baby, you can’t let her do this…”, his stomach churning as he guesses the next worse possible scenario, Getou being turned. He engages his projection again and aims down the halls at his highest speed until he reaches the room and collides into her and Suguru. Elska flies into the wall next to the bed, bouncing off it harshly and Getou drops to the ground unconscious. The room falls silent for what seems like forever as everyone collects themselves enough to assess if he made it in time.

Choso helps Naoya off the floor, “I think you were able to stop her.”, he states with reprieve. Naoya glares at him but he shrugs it off and proceeds with, “I believe I am incapable of attacking her, I am simply unable to do it…”, his voice trailing off as he reanimates the veracity of this horrible fact. He’s deeply involved with her though and wants to give her the world as she pleases and he’s only troubled by this revelation because of her trying to turn Getou. That’s one of the few things he is against.

Naoya goes to pick up Elska, not sensing the ominous presence anymore and being over the moon for it. “Baby…how do we keep this from happening?!”, his voice trembling in despair as he comes to terms with how it’s getting harder to reason or even influence that other her. ‘What if that thing wins and we lose her?!’, anxiety smoldering in his chest as he truly wonders about it really being a part of her at all. He turns to Toji, “There’s no way in fucking hell that’s our princess…right?! What the fuck is that thing?!”, nearly crying as he cradles her limp body into his own. “There’s no way…”, he whispers while resting his lips into her head.

Toji is able to move freely finally and shakes off the eerie way she was able to manipulate them like that. His brow furrows as he meets eyes with his cousin, his own heart pacing rapidly with the truth of her being too much for them to handle. He also is hesitant to believe that his doll would actually harbor such debauched ruthlessness as he sighs to recalling the fear he had once Megumi was trapped by her whims. “I can’t believe she went after my boy…”, he states with pure shock, “I don’t want to think that’s her either…not anymore.”. He’s truly unnerved by how close that was and is unable to spring back to ease as he truly thought she was going to do something to Megumi. ‘What if she had?’, the failure he feels burrowing deeper than her nails could ever reach.

Choso kneels down next to Naoya and offers, “I was not going to let her get to Megumi, I promise.

“FUCK YOU CHO! YOU CAUSED THAT ENTIRE FUCKING THING!”, Naoya’s voice ricocheting off the walls as his bass can be felt. “You just said you can’t oppose her, don’t give me that shit! She was not in your control!”. He swats at his friend furiously, still shaken by how that other her seemed to know no bounds for her corrupted amusement. “What if she’d turned him!? Or Getou!Do you not understand how serious that was?!”.

Choso pouts but then looks to Toji, “You just don’t know her like I do. I’ll admit that she was not showing her best side tonight but she’s lonely and frustrated with her confinement…”. He feels Naoya’s presence amplify to clearly indicate he’s wanting to fight but everything becomes quiet as all of their eyes dart to Getou’s body as he begins violently seizing.

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