#dog is like you need rubs ground yourself master

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

Maybe you still see me as that beautiful little boy that would ask for kisses

Maybe I still see you as the little girl that would always find a way to give me one

[brainr0t-landfill]

T

Chapter One: You get baptized.

Captain Price x male reader

(T.W: forcemasc fetish, kidnapping, forced headshave, reader is currently girlmoding, implied stalking, implied cheating)

The road to your new home is long and wet John is stiff in his seat as the cold lights of the bumfuck, misreable town you called home for years bleed across the dark car he wonder if you can see them if you're still awake, rain splashes against his front window.

Wrongness gnaws at something burried deep in his chest even though it's been hours since your struggle has died down; your desperate pleas and pathetic threats muffled by an old rag and held in place by duct tape, all the frantic energy in your soft body weighed down by exhaustion, he feels bad for you so confused and lost but he knows he's doing what's right like his old man always told him.

"No one finds their true love, son."

He'd tell him sitting on his old throne shallow, warm glass of whiskey in hand.

"You make it, wives like your mother are for husbands like me. I didn't find her on the side of the road as she is today, made her i did."

The contradiction is that Senior Price was more shaped by his wife than his wife by him John's mother with her dishwasher white knuckles and red stained lips, an ex whore, a cols blooded creature in a warm home trying to make her claws into wings.

The contradiction is that John never wanted a woman like his mother, never wanted a woman at all.

On the edge of town he stops the truck, turns the engine off and steps outside walks through the murky mud puddles to the trunk pops it and beholds you, curled into yourself with eyes like a desperate dog you thin wrists held together by zip ties, knobby knees knocking against eachother.

He kneels infornt of you on one knee like a crude mockery.

"I know you're confused."

He tells you rubbing across your ribs,

"But in due time you'll get it luv, I'll be so good for ya, never gonna want for nothing y'hear?"

He gives you his best smile but you don't respond he shushes the sniffles with a heavy hand grabbing you by your scruff and dragging you out, you don't struggle at all and he gently rips the tape off it leaves red lines across your pretty, soft cheeks and pink lips glossy with spit.

"Please, please I won't tell anyone I need to go home please please-"

He stands there as you kneel on the ground big paw rubbing at your sore jaw as you work yourself into tears and sobs begging for things you don't want, he sees your eyes stuck where the sun is setting on the other side of the road desire peeking out like teeth.

"Shhh, shhh it's alright now, it's alright"

He tells you as he rubs his hands across your beautiful locks, such a shame

"I'm not gonna hurt ya luv, no, no not at all. But you need to trust me, alright?"

He looks down at you and clicks his tounge in dissapointment but of course, men are proud animals they play best when they think they'll win, they grasp at any chance to prove their loving masters wrong.

"Looky here, let's make a deal, yeah?"

He takes a deep breath and plays a gamble, rolls the dice knowing he holds every card.

"A year, ya stay with me a year, listen, and be good and if by the end of that year ya still wanna go back home, I'll let ya. Hell I'll even drive ya, drop ya off at the door. But untill than you play by my rules, yeah luv?"

He asks and rubs his calloused hand over your cheek watches the war raging behind those eyes.

"O-okay."

You croak out and your trembling seizes as you steel your shoulders.

"Okay, y-you've got a deal, just please don't hurt me."

He pats your head and takes the clippers out, drags you to the gutter, walk you on your knees deep into the filthy water, stains your pretty, modest white skirt not that you'll have much use of it anymore.

You start screaming again struggling like a feral dog, he thinks of what name to give you, dogs get new names after all to know what they should answer to your old one never fit you anyways.

"What are you doing-? What are you-"

He starts it up and runs it across your scalp, your soft hair falling into the water and your sweat stained blouse as be buzzes it all off, there will be better cuts in the feature; neat crew cuts like his in barber shops before your wedding and once every month, routine trims and beard oil.

"Oh don't pretend you don't know luv, look at you! Even with ya short height everybody can tell, ya make such an unconvincing girl, sweets but that's alright. Everybody strays sometimes, not ya fault ya never had anyone to guide ya right, ya just trust me, alright? Ya just trust me."

He burries your face in his crotch to muffle your noises as he shaves your head feels you go limp with shame.

He pities you, he doesn't know what it's like to be seen after a life spent hiding, to be in the light after two decades of chasing it.He strips you off your skirt and blouse there, pockets your jewelry and wedding band takes out your I.D and taps your picture there.

"Ya recognize her?"

Your lips twitch, mishapen face scrunched up in shame.

"No, ya don't, ya never did..."

He thinks for a second, what to name you, who to make you, how to love you.

"Tommy, Tom Price, ya recognize that?"

You nod and he brushes the hair off your scalp as he leads you back to the car, lays you in the back seat to stew, throws his uniform jacket over you.

"Wait-"

He looks down, at you half hidden under the jacket, pulls it further, tucks you in to hide a body that's of the past.

"Yes luv?"

"What's you name?"

He smiles and huffs out a laugh that's been brewing for weeks, weeks and weeks of watching you, feeling your yearning eyes burn kisses on his skin.

"Jonathan, Jonathan Price, ya can call me sir."

[just-some-random-blogger]

Edge Of Ever After | 3

Part 1 2 3 4

Sandor runs his fingers down my spine and sighs, "everything I ever touch goes to shit." He grabs my hip and pulls me close. I turn to him and nestle my face into his chest. He traps me in his arms, "but you... you turn my shit into gold."

Sandor Clegane x Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, smut (slight dubcon, piv, degradation), mentions/depictions of violence, heckling/cat calling, sunshine x grump, remnants of forced marriage, slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, miscommunication, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: hello everyone its been a while a;sjkhdfa;sklfhas;lkfhs it feels weird to post fics on tumblr again after my tumblr got sent to JAIL but its only fair that i continue posting this here <3 (i post this on my ao3 first then bulk post here).

When Sandor enters the Brown Wood meeting hall, he is greeted kindly by many of the people who wished to seek audience with his wife. He vaguely overhears a conversation about someone's babe, but it's cut short.

She turns to him, just as the townsfolk flock over to him like a moth drawn to flame. She smiles, then shoos them away, concluding the meeting for the day.

Sandor watches how she commands the room. One by one the people trickle out of the hall. He watches as she sighs and rubs her belly. He watches as she walks over to him and asks him what he needed.

His eyes remain on the hand she kept on her stomach, "I wanted to… …" gods, have they upset her.

She raises her brows, "to?"

"… are you alright?" He takes her other hand with grave reluctance, "are you hurting?"

Immediately, she drops the hand she had on her stomach and grows rigid. Sandor catches the discomfort she masks with a smile.

She shakes her head, "I'm well."

Sandor frowns. He gently rubs her skin, in case his palms were too rough, "… I wanted to show you… the strawberries."

Her eyes twinkle, "oh? Have they begun to bloom?"

Sandor is winded by how brightly her face seemed so suddenly. He motions with his head, "want to see for yourself?"

The two of them head to the garden.

"Heel, pups. Dammit," Sandor hisses when the three dogs run in front of them.

With one sound and a look, the pups turn to Lady Clegane and move out of the way. Sandor grumbles and nudges them out of the way as he passes, "fuck off."

"Sandor."

"They started it!"

When they get to the garden, the puppies run around the yard, no longer interested in their masters, but instead the birds that had made the unfortunate mistake of resting dormant on the Brown Wood grounds.

Sandor was a natural fast walker, considering his stature. He's always loathed slow walkers. And though he could never loathe his bride, in this moment, he particularly itched to show her the strawberries sooner, so he took her hand and pulled her towards the garden.

He didn't notice the squeak that fell from her lips when he did so. All he knew was that she had to slightly catch her breath when they stopped.

Sandor bends down and turns to her, glancing once at the pups to see what they were barking at. When he realizes the fuss was over birds, he turns back to her and speaks, "I have a strawberry now."

She peers down and knits her brows, "… where?"

Sandor raises a brow and looks at the branch, "here."

She walks closer but only spots it when the man points at the marble sized greenish fruit.

"Oh!"

Sandor turns back to her and nods, "there are many of them already. Do you want to see?"

Before she can reply, Sandor is already examining his garden, looking for something to show. He doesn't just walk off however. He reaches his hand out to her, rather absentmindedly, and mutters something about caterpillars.

He doesn't notice how she sucks in a breath before taking his hand. He doesn't notice how her lips curve when he tells her the things the gardeners taught him.

Sandor doesn't even notice how her eyes water when he tells her that they could trade tasks, she could do the gardening and he could talk to the townsfolk, so not to burdened by their worries; she scratched the tears away by the time he looked.

The only thing he notices is how her face fell.

Gods, he done it again.

"… what's wrong?"

Sandor's insides feel like their being pulverized when he catches the way her lips quiver. It's even worse when she smiles and says, "nothing."

A line forms between his brows.

"I am just… I'm am pleased to see you look so happy."

Sandor knits his brows.

She gives an airy laugh but tears stream her cheeks in spite of it.

Sandor stutters out her name, cautiously reaching out to her.

"No," she chuckles, bringing his hands to her cheeks, "I am not sad. Truly. I am happy. I am happy for you."

Discomfort doesn't leave him when she says this. He wipes her cheeks with his thumbs and nods, "aye. I am happy because of you."

She laughs through tears again.

He feels an overwhelming urge to kiss her.

And so he does.

He pulls her close and leans down. He kisses her like he means to drink in all the sorrow she was lying about. His one hand cradles the back of her head, the other brushes down the small of her back.

He ponders how she chuckles between kisses. Maybe, she wasn't lying. He pulls away and examines her face.

She chuckles again and rubs his chin.

She sighs and licks her lips, "I like it when you kiss me like that."

His brows quirk, "like w-"

She kisses him again. He is caught off-guard when she grabs him by the collar. Sandor can't help the groan that rumbles in his chest as she brings her arms over his shoulders. He snakes his own around her torso and lifts her up.

When she pulls away for a breath and tries to wrap her legs around him, he jostles her body up, allowing her the momentum to do so. He wastes no more time keeping their lips separate. He kisses her as he heads inside.

Unfortunately, Sandor had to see to get to their chambers, so he has to pull away. She makes him cuss when he kisses her neck. He nearly kicks the fucking door down on his way in. He does the same to the chamber door then slams it shut.

Sandor throws her on the bed and heaves like a rabid dog as he looks down at her body and her wanting face. He feels himself go hard with how she licks her lips as he undoes his top. He's never loathed clothes quite as much as he did this moment.

And then she stands up and tilts her pretty face up at him. He towers over her as she grab his hands and slowly pushes them away.

"Let me," she mutters, tugging his top out of his trousers.

He has to bend to help her get it off and it amuses her. She giggles, "you're so tall."

He stirs at the sound of her voice. He wraps an arm around her waist and kisses her mouth. He can taste the sweetness of her laughter on her lips.

He huffs when he pushes him away.

She rubs her nose against his, "lie down, puppy."

His eyes widen.

She bites her lips, feeling nervous over his shock. She manages to convince herself to power through and grabs his arms. She pushes him toward the bed, "lie down."

He doesn't have to hear it another time.

Sandor sits down on the side of the bed, then sequentially gets on his back. His feet stay put on the floor and he keeps his head up to watch her closely. He is visibly straining in his pants and the sight makes her face warm. She bites her lips harder and slowly lifts her skirt up.

"Fuck," Sandor hisses, heart pounding in his chest and his cock.

She removes her smallclothes then slowly crawls on top of him, stopping just before his pelvis.

"Fuuuuccckkk," he sighs, dropping his head. His hands dig into her hips as she undoes his trousers, "you're driving me mad, seven fucking gods, woman."

She hums and giggles softly, "that's right, Hound. I'm a woman."

"H- fuck-" whatever he meant to say gets crushed into a groan when she grabs his throbbing length then aligns herself on him.

He rips at her skirts when she sinks down and leans on to his chest. She rubs his body hair, "your woman."

"Fucking hell," he rubs her sides, "all fucking mine, that's right."

She whimpers when his hands squeeze her breasts. She clenches around him, making him throw his head back. She heaves, "you take such… good care of me… wanna do the same."

Sandor nearly passes when she begins to move. She starts out slow then eases her way into a quicker pace. He groans through his open mouth as she leans further, allowing her to move more surely.

"That's it, love. You feel so fucking good, fuck."

She is encouraged, "like this?"

He doesn't have the words to agree and merely hisses.

Eventually, Sandor can't just lie down. He slowly begins to buck into her and gods does he love the face she makes.

Like a man starved, he pushes himself up, sitting himself down, and kisses her neck. He wraps his arms around her and guides her movements. He brushes his lips down her neck and hisses, "that's it, love," he nips her neck, "so fucking good for me. My lovely wife."

Sandor loosens the ties at the back of her dress. He is frantic about it that he eventually gives up. He resigns to yanking enough of her dress down to expose her breasts. He promptly licks a stripe on her soft flesh and leaves marks wherever his mouth can reach.

She tangles her fingers in his hair and tugs at the roots, "Sandor."

He hums and kisses her jaw, "my love."

They share a kiss until she has to break away and catch her breath from her rigorous movements.

He brings his hand under her skirts and squeezes her thighs, " 'm gonna come."

She squeals when she feels him rub her sensitive nub.

He hisses, "so fucking wet. Mmm, fuck, I'm gonna come inside your hot cunt. Then I'll pin you down and come some more."

"F-fuck, Sandor-"

He hisses as he clutches her neck. He doesn't put any pressure but he still has her whining, especially as he grazes her skin with his teeth. He says hotly, "I need you to be a good girl and make me come first."

She grabs his shoulders.

"Don't you want me to fill you up?"

She hums, "y-yes."

"Good girl."

She bounces on him harder.

"Fuck," he grabs her hips and helps her through it, "yes, yes, yes, just like that-"

She comes first, and she comes hard.

Sandor has to maneuver her roughly to chase after his high, and by the time he does, she's a shaking, loud mess, babbling only his name, cause that was all that's left in her head.

It takes a good while before he finally slows. He makes sure that he rides out the pleasure and fucks every drop of his seed into her softness. Then, they both go limp on the bed.

Sandor heaves. His wife does the same atop him. She can feel her cunt spasm. She can feel their hot spend leaking, but she's too tired to care.

Sandor rubs her back as he sighs, "you're incredible"

She is too dazed to say anything but, "Sandor."

Sandor wraps his arm around her waist, "I'm here, my love. I'm here."

She nuzzles her face into his neck.

He sighs in content.

"Sandor."

" 'M here."

"Is this enough for you?"

"…"

"…"

"… what?"

She lifts her head and sucks in a breath. She sighs deeply before replying, "sex… and strawberries?"

Sandor looks at her face. He is in awe of her beauty. What treachery it is for her to believe it isn't.

His silence make her eyes glass.

He grunts as he brings them back into a sitting position. He kisses her neck and rocks her back and forth, "honest to every god in the sky-- old, new, or otherwise, if I died this second… I would die the happiest I have ever been in my whole life."

Her heart throbs. When he looks at him, she knows he isn't lying. Still, she can't help to want to disagree.

And Sandor can see it. He sighs.

"I will tr-"

"Let's go to Volantis."

Her expression drops.

Sandor tucks her hair back, "this is more than enough for me… but it isn't for you. I want to be enough for you too."

She is unable to speak.

"I don't trust that fucking leech, Littlefinger, but if there is a chance…"

Her eyes blur with water.

"… at least we can say we tried."

The next second, she wraps her arms around him and shudders into his shoulder.

"Sandor."

A crack of thunder startles me, and the two horses beside us.

I watch as my husband grumbles something under his breath and hands me the lead on his horse. He steps out of the shade of the tree we were under gets drenched in the pouring rain water. Well, more drenched.

To be fair, I was still getting wet too, but it was not as bad from where I stood.

I adjust the hood covering my face to look at him. He looks around then back at me. He shouts over the rain, "we've no choice but to walk!"

I fix my hood and hand him his lead. I follow after him and we slowly trek through the wet ground, the reason why we were not on horseback. He says it was a horse ankle killer.

"You know!' I scream over the rain.

Sandor's clanking armor is still audible through the pouring rain.

"They say rain is a sign your journey will be great!"

"Yeah, and who told you that?!'

"My aunt!"

"Your aunt's a dumb bitch!"

I shoot daggers at the back of his head, "Sandor!"

"Tell her to shove mud up her arse!"

"Stoooop!" I whine.

Sandor and I continue through the sludge with our horses walking by our sides. I can vaguely hear him grumble under his breath and my worry for him, and the horses especially, begin to worsen.

"Puppy!" I call, slightly frantic, "maybe we should find some shade for a moment!"

Sandor does not look back at me, "it won't matter! The rain won't stop any time soon!"

I look at my poor steed and wipe her dripping face. I am overcome with guilt when she shakes her mane.

Without warning, a crack of lightning lights up the dark sky then a roll of thunder effectively spooks my horse, causing her to stand on her hind legs and her lead to slip out of my grip. Sandor's horse remains relatively calm, beyond the huffs she gives.

Sandor is quick to come to my aid, or rather my horse's. He pulls me back, so not to be trampled on, then manages to grab hold of her lead, shushing her until she was as calm as she could be in the middle of the storm.

I watch as his hood falls off. His face is immediately drenched with water. I frantically put his hood back on and my husband turns to me. He shakes his head disapprovingly then leads both of the horses himself. He screams louder than needed, "IT'S NOT TOO LATE TO TURN BACK, GIRL!"

I watch him as he continues to walk. I come up behind him.

"I bet your wench is worried sick over you! I bet her and your pups are at the door, praying for your return!"

"Stop calling Lucy names!"

Sandor looks over his shoulder only to look forward again and grumble.

I really don't mean to pick a fight, especially not in this weather, but I also really didn't want to go back, not when the whole of Brown Wood knew we would be leaving for Volantis to get rid of the curse. In hindsight, my integrity took the best of me in that moment. I could have just said I wanted to travel… but the again, I did not want them to think we would be leaving them to fend for themselves purely for my wanderlust.

I decide not to speak a word, but then I catch a light from afar.

"SANDOR!" I gasp and point, "LOOK!"

The Hound turns and sees the glow of a fire.

"I think it's an inn!" I exclaim, heading towards it at once.

I hurry over to the direction of the light and thank the gods when I find that I was, in fact, correct. A sizable inn was now only a few paces away from me. I turn around, seeing the struggling man and our horses slowly coming towards me.

I'm about to run back to him, but he barks out, "GO IN AND GET US A ROOM!"

I nod and rush towards the inn.

I push the door open and sigh when I feel warmth envelope me. I cautiously enter and hover by the door. The place is packed. It seems everyone here was caught in the storm, judging by how some of them were still dripping, and others had towels around their shoulders.

I look at the puddle that builds beneath my feet and feel guilty at the mess. The wooden floors were already muddy and I did not want to add to it.

I shrug off my cloak and wring it out of the open door, proceeding to do the same to my skirt and my hair, at least as much as I can.

"Oooh, lovie, oh dear!" a voice says. I turn and see an old woman approaching me, "don't bother with that and just come in."

I give a bashful smile as she reaches out to me, "what will you be needing? Some towels? Soup? I'll be happy to help, for a price, of course."

I nod, "both would be lovely. I'd like two sets of each and a room for me and my husband."

She nods, "of course. You arrived just in time. We have the one room left. I'll need you to pay upfront though, because our Golden Deer Inn is bustling, as you can see."

"Oh, of course, of course," I nod and prepare my coin purse. As I pay her, I remember, "oh. We also have two horses. I would like them to have a towel and some hay as well."

I pay her handsomely and her face brightens.

"As you command, my lady," she curtsies after taking my coin. "Go find yourself a seat, I'll bring you and your husband some supper in a jiffy. If you need anything else, or if anyone bothers you, holler for Trysha," she places a hand on her chest and nods.

I nod back, "thank you, kind Trysha."

"Of course."

Trysha walks off and so do I. I shudder as I look for a vacant table, rubbing my arms as I gaze upon the packed room. I quickly realize there is none and rub my hands. I decide to head for the fireplace and at least warm myself in the meantime.

A man seated by the warmth stares at me, suddenly uninterested in his meal. I ignore him and slowly move away.

"Oi, you, girl!"

I feel agitation build in my stomach.

"You! At the fireplace!"

I suck in a breath and ignore the call.

"OI!" the voice calls louder, "OI, YOU!"

When another voice screams through the bustle of room and I hear someone stand, my instincts takeover and I turn around. A man, stood by a table of six, is looking at me.

"So ye'rent deaf," he says, making the men at his table laugh and turn to me.

I gulp and simply stare at him. I roll my shoulders back, feigning confidence. I raise my brows in expectation.

The man with a cut on his chin rolls his jaw and chuckles, "ye wonna share a table with us? You look awfully sad and lonely o'r there. All wet and exhausted."

I feel sick as he motions to the men at his table, their eyes on me like I was nothing but meat, their next meal, "we could keep you warm."

The group cheers with laughter. One raises their pint and another whistles.

"I am not interested," I say firmly, "I am waiting for my husband."

They laugh and howl like wolves. One of the table speaks, "that's what they all say."

"I don't see your husband here."

"Come on, don't be shy."

"You dogs leave her alone!" Trysha hisses as she reenters. I immediately feel relieved at the sight of her. She walks up to their table holding two bowls, "I will not have you disrespect my customer when you lot haven't even paid for your grub!"

The man glares at her, as if testing if she'll back down.

Trysha narrows her eyes, "if you're not scared of me, which you should, you'll be scared of my sons."

And as if on cue, a large man walks in serving a plate of roast chicken to one table. The man with a thick chest and thick arms to match scowls when he spots his mother, "these blokes bothering you, ma?"

"And that's just one of them," Trysha mutters. She turns to the man, "I'm not sure yet, love."

"Ligh'en up, woman. We were only playin'," the stood man sits down, "isn't that right, sweet'eart?"

Trysha, her son, and the men at the table turn to me.

I cannot give them the satisfaction. I grip my chest and shake my head, "you brutes have a sick sense of humor and the gods will soon punish you for it."

Trysha's son squares up, "you botherin' the lady?"

"We was jus' joking!" another says, "she's a stuck up bitch."

Suddenly, that man is grabbed by the collar. Trysha's son pulls him to his feet and he begins to choke, "now, I've had a long day. It would be my joy to break all of your stupid faces, but then I'd have to mop off blood on the floor."

Trysha steps back as the rest of the table stands.

"Go on," her son says, pulling out a knife, pressing it to the man's neck, "apologize to the woman and I'll let you pay for your meals once you've finished."

"You mad fucker!" one of the six scream.

The man being held hostage begins to wince when the blade on his neck draws blood. Immediately he begins to apologize, "I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY!"

The large man releases him and demands they pay up and leave.

They collectively reach for their coin and leave some on the table before leaving.

Trysha turns to me and smiles, "your table's ready."

I watch as the men exit and slowly come towards them. I watch as her son clears the table. He steals a glance at me and mutters, "sorry about those fucks."

I offer him a smile, "you need not apologize for their uncouth nature."

I place a hand on his shoulder as he takes all the plates and pints. He stills as I ask, "may I ask for your name?"

He looks at me and clears his throat. He straightens up and mutters, "Riley."

Trysha places the bowl on the table and then wipes off the surface.

"Thank you, Riley," I smile.

Riley clears his throat and nods. He then walks off.

"Right," Trysha says, "I'll go get you your towels."

"Thank you, Trysha."

I sit down and keep my eyes on the front door. I begin to sip of my soup, surprised by how flavorful it was and relieved by how it warmed me up.

I perk when the front door opens but deflate when I see a group of men enter.

Trysha comes out with towels, the converses with those said man, telling them the inn was fully booked, but they were welcome to stay for a meal if they liked. The men talk to themselves and Trysha walks over, handing me the towels.

I thank her for it and she smiles, "we have some pie and mead, if you'd like."

I wipe my face the wrap myself with the towel. I nod, "yes, I would. Only one pint of mead, however. If you have any more stew," I pull out some coin, "I'd like a bowl as well."

Trysha smiles and nods, "I'll have Riley bring you some roast pork too."

As Trysha walks off, I continue slurping my soup. When I turn back to the front door, my sight is obscured. The group of men who entered were now at my table. My heart leaps into my mouth.

"Pardon my companions and I. We have travelled far and have grown weary. Do you mind if we share a table with you? None else are currently available."

I look at the four men and feel uncomfortable under their scrutiny. Though they appeared more civilized then the ones before, I was still uneasy.

I manage a smile and motion to the bowl of soup across me, "I'm waiting for my husband."

The man looks at the other bowl, "ah. … But otherwise, you would let us sit?"

His adamance makes my stomach churn. I take a breath and shake my head, "I do not know you, ser. I do not like to dine with strangers."

The man seems taken off-guard by my response, judging by the way he chuckles dryly. He turns to his friends, who now carry sour expressions on their faces. The man seems emboldened by this and releases anger, "it is not as though you own the seat you are on. Why won't you let us sit?"

I turn uncomfortably to my soup then back at him. I muster up the resolve to speak, "I was ushered personally to this table by the innkeeper. What I do here is my business."

The man stares at me. I can see how the comment seeps under his skin.

"Squirrel?" a loud voice calls out.

My heart races and I gasp under my breath, "Sandor." Against myself, my eyes begin to water.

One of the men look over his shoulder, and it is enough for me to catch sight of my husband, face dripping with rain water and worry. Thank the gods he spots me as well.

His face immediately shifts and he marches over to me. Without another thought, he grabs two of the four men and yanks them away from me.

I instinctively stand but could do nothing but watch as the Hound drags the two bodies out of the inn with him. The other two follow after, unsheathing their swords.

The whole place goes silent as screams sound off from outside.

I gulp.

Riley walks in. He sees me standing and presses his lips together. He places the tray of food on my table and slowly asks, "everything alright?"

I turn to him an debate if I should tell him. I don't.

I flinch when the Hound enters the next moment. Riley looks back and Sandor sheathes his sword. My husband stops when he sees the man beside me.

"Did you kill them?" I mutter frantically.

Riley turns to me and Sandor speaks, "who's he?"

"He's the innkeepers boy. He brought the food. Did you kill them?"

Sandor eyes Riley as he slowly walks over to me. Riley eyes him back and moves out of his way. The two of them stare at each other and I have to pull Riley away from him.

"Stop it!" I hiss, "Riley's no trouble ," I lightly nudge the said man away, "you're merely hungry."

The Hound glares as Riley hesitantly walks off. He looks at me one last time and finally goes back whence he came after I give him a nod of encouragement.

Sandor looks down at me as I take the other towel and wipe his face.

He grunts, placing his hand on my arms, keeping my towel on me, "I leave you for a few minutes and there's another man swarming you."

He pushes my arm down. His brows knit as he examines my face. He looks irritated, but more than this, he looks worried, guilty even.

I sigh and shake my head, "Riley saved me from a different group of men."

Only fury is left on his face, "what different group of men?!"

I sigh once more and sit down, pulling him down with me. He sits beside me and I recount what happened. His face is hard and his body rigid after he hears it.

"He should have slit their throats when he had the chance," the Hound spits on the floor to his side, "fucking craven."

"Sandor…"

He grabs the pint of mead, some of the liquid splatters on his hand and the table. He downs it in one go. His armour clanks as he sets the cup down with a bang.

I knit my brows and grab his arm, "I'm glad he didn't kill them."

He looks livid as he stares at me.

"Please tell me you didn't kill those men."

He chuckles dryly. He yanks his arm out of my grip, causing me to yelp when his armour cuts me.

I turned to my hands, thankfully finding no blood, and he immediately freezes. The next moment, he is overcome with guilt. He clenches his jaw and releases a deep breath. He takes my hands, examining it. Sandor shakes his head, "I didn't slaughter the fuckers, no. Just broke some bones they didn't need."

"Sandor…"

He shakes his head quicker. He releases my hands, "you're too kind for your own good, far too kind."

"I'm kind for the both of us, my love."

Sandor stares at me upon hearing this. I wipe his face with the towel again.

"Men are dogs… you know this, sweet squirrel."

I leave the towel on his shoulders and shrug, "I happen to like dogs more than men."

Sandor says nothing.

I brush his beard with my thumbs, "my puppy."

He sighs and takes my wrists. He pulls my hands away and shakes his head, "I'm not a puppy."

"No, you're my puppy."

He rolls his eyes, "eat. We need to get changed quickly."

I press my lips into a frown, "okay, puppy."

"Enough," he says. He begins to feast on the roast pork.

I raise my brows at how quickly Sandor was eating. I stare at him as he chomps through half a chicken as though it was a sweetie. He washes it down with some mead and muffles through a mouthful, "tastes fuckin' shite."

He grabs a spoonful of stew and stuffs it in his mouth.

"Sandor," I call through furrowed brows, ceasing to eat.

He seems not to hear me with how violently he was chewing.

"Sandor," I speak louder, placing a hand on his arm.

His cheeks are stuffed as he turns to me. His mouth is slightly open, as he stopped mid-chew.

I giggle and sigh, "you don't have to eat so quickly. You've stuffed your cheeks like a squirrel."

"Hmp," he continues to chew and muffles out, "you think you're so clever with that?"

I squint as I watch him swallow so much in one go. He takes another bite of meat.

"Beating up shitheads cost two chickens at least. Why do you think I'm always hungry?"

The notion sounds ridiculous, and yet I knew better than to contest it. In fact, I feel somehow guilty at the thought. I cannot help the chuckle that leaves lips though. I turn to my plate and shake my head, "forgive me. It's not funny."

"Quit it and eat then," he pushes my plate towards me.

He continues to inhale his food and I continue to watch with both parts amusement and concern. I consciously chew slower consequently. That is, until, Riley walks up to our table.

Sandor immediately tenses we he does.

"Are the burly brown horses yours?" Riley asks.

"Why d'ya ask?" the Hound retorts without missing a beat.

"My brother had to move them to another stable. They were too big."

Sandor takes in a breath before responding, "fine… anything else?"

"…"

"…"

"Ehm, my mum told me to tell you that she prepared hot water in the tub in your room."

I smile, "oh, thank you. Please tell Trysha I am grateful for it."

"She probably meant for me to to tell you so that you'd go before it's cold."

"Oh," I look at my plate, "alright, we'll finish up quickly."

"If you like, you could bring it up," Riley offers.

"Oh, we can? That would be splendid," I immediately stand and gather my plate. Sandor stands and grabs the satchels of our stuff from under the table.

"I can help," says Riley, picking up the rest of the plates.

We head up to the second floor and Riley leads us to our room. It's a modest psace with minimal furniture. The tub is in the corner, the water in it steaming. The bed was on the other corner, and beside it was a table with two chairs.

Riley places the plates on the table, so does Sandor, then myself.

"If you need anything, just come down and look for someone to help you," Riley says to me.

I smile and nod, "thank you. We will."

With that, he walks out and I close the door behind him.

"Don't smile at him," says Sandor, coming up behind me to lock the door. I watch him as he walks back the table, sits, and continues to eat.

"Why not?"

"Because he'll fall in love with you."

I snort at the ridiculous notion and walk over to him. I place a hand on his shoulder then turn around. I remove the towel around my shoulders and undo the ties in my hair, "help me, please."

Sandor knowingly undoes my dress.

"I don't think that's how it works."

"…"

"Falling in love, I mean."

Sandor pulls the wet dress off me and grabs me by the hips. He spins me around and looks up at me, "then you've learned nothing, little girl."

I press my lips tightly together as I am rid of my drenched clothing. My husband pulls the sopping dress down to my feet and I step out of it, kicking it aside.

Sandor eyes my body. The shift I still on me was effectively stuck on me with how wet it was. I watch him as he looks at me. My breathing gets heavier as I notice him clench a hand when he leans back on his chair.

I am reminded of my cold I actually was when a shiver runs down my spine and my skin breaks out with gooseflesh. I continue to comb out my hair with my fingers, but do so quicker. I huff in realization, "I won't be able to do my hair as good without Lucy."

The Hound lifts his gaze up and drags his chair closer. He parts his legs and positions me between them. He slowly reaches for the hem of my shift, pushing it up.

My breath hitches.

"Mmm, we should go back home," he mumbles, hand coming in contact with my thigh.

We both hiss at the feel; I, at his heat, him, at my chill. Sandor hisses, "gods, you're freezing."

My toes curl when he rubs my flesh. I lean one hand on his arm and huff, "w-well, I'm wet."

He chuckles, hands hiking up to my waist. I squeak when he drags my smallclothes down and looks up at me, "are you?"

I feel my face burn at his question and find myself pushing him away. I pull my pants up and point a finger, "so are you!"

I hear him laugh as I rush towards the tub. He sighs, "what's gotten into you, pretty squirrel? Don't like it when I'm filthy?"

I bunch my shift up then snap as I turn over my shoulder, "are you getting in, or--"

The sound of a chair skidding fills the room. I hear footsteps, but before I feel him behind me, he stops.

"Actually… I'm a lot grimier than you. You should bathe first."

I turn around and look up at Sandor. He seems to be breathing quickly. I lick my lips and remove my clothes. I feel his stare as he watches me get into the tub. The warmth is so welcomed. I sigh in relief as I scrub myself with my palms.

Sandor walks over and kneels at the side of the tub. His eyes are glued on my legs.

My heart races and I tut him, "no, husband."

He turns to me, "what?"

"We can't do anything tonight."

He stiffens and scowls. Slowly, he becomes dejected, "… is it because I broke those fuckers' bones?"

I whimper at the thought, "gods, Sandor, how many bones did you break?"

"…"

"…"

"… … … not letting me touch you won't fix them…"

I laugh begrudgingly and move towards him, "it's not that," I cup his cheeks, "though I do not encourage you to break bones."

He scowls again, "they're lucky I maimed them and not hung them by their entrails."

"Sandor," I whimper, shaking my head.

He pouts, about as much as Hound could.

I raise my brows.

He sighs, "… forgive me."

I frown, "all is well," I rub his cheeks, "I just don't think it would be proper for us to couple at an inn. That's all."

He is dumbfounded. He stares at me, as if trying to assure whether or not I was joking.

I was not, obviously.

"Fuck," he sighs, "I've forgotten you're a lady. A proper lady."

I furrow my brows at that and continue to wash myself, "one if us has to be."

He chuckles leans on the side of the tub. He watches me as I clean my chest. I feel conscious as I rub my breasts.

"I can help."

"No. You are filthy."

"Rude."

By the time I finish, I ask him to get me a towel and he does. He does not hand it to me however, instead, he opens it up and instructs me to stand. And so I do. I fidget a bit under his hot gaze, especially with how unabashed his eyes rake me over. He wraps me in the towel and plucks me out of the tub.

I squeal as he walks over to the bed. He drops me on the cushion.

"Sandor! I'm wet!" I scold as I quickly crawl off the bed.

He removes his shirt and walks back to the tub, "so you keep telling me."

I glare at him as I wipe myself down. I watch as he strips, turning away when I see his bum. I clear my throat to mask the tingle on my cheeks, as well as my giggle. I few moments later, I hurriedly run off towards our bags to get dressed.

"Don't you dare put on a lick of clothing," Sandor says as he scrubs himself down.

"Sandor," I whine, "I am serious. We cannot-"

The Hound emerges front he tub, dripping wet as he walks towards me. He yanks the towel off me and wipes himself down. I instinctively wrap my arms around myself.

"On the bed," he nods as he wipes his face and chest.

"… d-did you even clean yourself?"

"Clean enough to get dirty with your come, lover."

"Sandor."

He chucks the towel somewhere without looking and forces me back by walking closer. I press my hands on his chest to try and stop him. He hisses and stops, but not for the reason I think.

"You're fucking ice, girl," he grabs my wrists. He rubs my pulse before kissing it. He nods towards the bed, "we have to fix that. On the bed."

"But-"

"Or I'll put your smart mouth to good use."

My heart races as I walk backwards 'til my calves hit the bed. I slowly sit down and scoot up to the middle of the mattress, circling myself into a ball in an attempt to cover myself.

The Hound chuckles as he stalks over, "such coyness from my bride."

My stomach flips when he places a hand on my knee.

"Open up," he mutters, "lest you forget I've fucked you like a bitch in heat before."

I gasp out his name.

He chuckles and says my name, as if to taunt me.

I can hear my pulse in my head. I can also feel it sharply between my thighs.

"I've tainted your innocence far too much for you to act shocked," he says under his breath. "Now, on your knees."

I gulp. I feel my breathing shorten as Sandor takes his hand off me, only to grab his hardening length. I make a sound as I catch him stroking himself, pressing his thumb on his tip. I slowly shift on my knees. I prop myself on my arms and bite my lip in both agitation and expectation.

Sandor doesn't waste any time in climbing behind me. I shudder when he grabs both sides of my arse and slowly squeezes them.

I whimper when he releases me with a laugh. I whimper louder when I feel his fingers touch my center. My body tingles when he rubs my slick folds.

"Well, well, well, you are wet."

"Sandor."

"D'ya like being called a bitch?"

I make a visceral sound when he fidgets with my clit.

"Mmm, my bitch?"

My arms begin to give out as his two fingers pump shallowly into me. I groan into the sheets and arch my back. My hips involuntarily buck against him.

He hisses and grabs my hair. He clamps on my roots and tugs slightly, "that's a question I need an answer to."

I whine and push myself up again after he releases my hair and ends his prodding. I catch my breath and press my forehead on the mattress. I breathlessly reply, "I-I… yes."

Sandor moans in satisfaction and grabs my hips.

We both let out strangled groans as he mounts me. He slowly thrusts and kneads the flesh on my sides, "good girl."

His words ignite a spark in my belly. My toes curl. I clench around him. He hisses.

He moans as he quickens his pace. He deeply plunges into me one, only to stop himself and barely move at all. He releases as shaky breath, "d-does my good girl need to be bred like a bitch?"

My voice gets louder when each rut of his hips get rougher. I lean down and release my lewd noises into the sheets.

"No," my husband growls, grabbing me by the hair again, "I need to hear you. I need all of them to hear how I take my wife."

With his reminder, that we were fucking in an inn, I tense and try to muffle my sounds, "n-no- f-fuck, Sandor-" I let out a sharp cry when he rubs my clit.

He releases my hair and grabs my hip, "ooooh," he coos, "think you have a choice, do ya?"

Against myself, I make noises that are louder than I'd like. I still muffle them as much as I could but it becomes hopeless as I grow breathless.

Sandor heaves like a bull plowing through dirt. He cusses, louder and faster as he chases his rising high. The sound of his thrusts fill my ears. The wet slaps are so powerful and lewd I can only hope it was still raining outside. I feel my thighs begin to falter as the promise of hot release coils in my belly.

I choke on my spit when I come. My throat is hoarse by the time I do. I am completely limp as Sandor uses me to pleasure himself. My belly shivers. My thighs barely do any work of keeping me up. He slaps his hips into me roughly, desperate and erratic. He finally comes to a halt after a guttural grunt.

I feel my cunt flutter and clench on his cock. I feel warmth cascade in my belly. I squeak when he rubs my clit. He laughs, as if wanting that reaction.

I whine as he slowly pulls away.

"Fuck," he hisses. His hands are the only things keeping my body hoisted up.

I shiver as I feel his come drip out of my swollen cunt. I shakily whine.

"Oh, fuck," he says again, mind wild at the sight of his come leaking out.

I wince loudly when he plunges his fingers into my whole. I twitch, eyes watering at the oversensitivity, "S-San-"

"As beautiful as your cunny looks leaking with my come," he hums.

I whimper and trembles as he pumps in and out of me a few times.

"I'd rather knock you up now, so we don't have to fucking go to Volantis."

"Sandor."

"Mmm? You need to lie down?"

I slowly look to him, but squeak instead when he turns me over. He pulls his fingers out of me as to get me on my back, and I immediately feel come gush out.

He checks my thighs and clicks his tongue disapprovingly, pushing his fingers back in. He then crawls up to my side and kisses my shoulder. He grabs one of the pillows and tucks it by my bum. He slowly pulls out and rubs my belly, "that should do."

I grab his hand just as he's about to moves away. He freezes, looking at me in expectation.

My eyes begin to water at a memory of a similar scene, "the last time you did this, you left me alone…"

Sandor is struck with the realization, "… oh…"

I scratch my eyes to mask the twinge of the memory.

"I just want to clean you up, my lady."

I release his hand. A pit of dread forms in my stomach but I manage to nod, "alright."

Sandor stands and does just that. He wipes me down with a towel and even helps me get dressed into my nightgown. He bashfully asks me if he can finish his meal and by then, my dread is gone. I chuckle softly and, allowing him to do as he pleases.

Still undressed, he seats himself on the table.

"Wait, shouldn't you wash-"

Sandor eats his chicken with little care for what I have to say.

"San-"

"I love pussy flavored chicken."

[mammonsturtle]

Chronicles of a Fallen Warrior -Gone to the Dogs- -MC’s Visit-

A/N : Wanted to write something short, @rays-doodles27​‘s question if MC was here, so I wanted to give MC’s side of things if they were here.

CW: mild cursing and general angst

First part

The Devildom.

You hadn’t been there since you left the exchange program, you did keep in contact with the boys though things had gone radio silent as of late.

They had kept in contact with you and talked to you daily. Though they knew they couldn’t bombard you with texts and calls once you had to get back to your life in the human world.

You missed them all, especially Mammon. You were worried since he always came calling to you whenever his brothers gave him hell. You were always there to comfort him and to defend him from his brothers. It was odd to you that he had gone silent on you too.

It’d be foolish to think that everyone was getting along while you were gone.

As Solomon had escorted you to the House of Lamentation, you felt a chill run down your spine. Something had to be off as the house was still and dark, any sign of life wasn’t seen from the outside. You let Solomon know when you needed him to escort you, and open the gate, the old creaking must have alerted the inhabitants living the house as you can see the lights come on.

As you stood at the door, you could hear a stampede of footsteps behind the door before the door opened up, your demons almost falling over themselves.

“Mam- MC?” 

“Hi,” You looked at the group of Avatars, they had looked quite disheveled and even Asmodeus looked like all self care had gone out the window ages ago. “Were you guys expecting Mammon?” You inquire as the fact that they had called you Mammon was telling. 

You knew Mammon was going to snap eventually, you just didn’t expect it so soon.

“Darling~~!!” Asmo throws himself on you as you stumble back, “Oh, we’ve missed you...And we need your help.” You could tell he wasn’t himself as well as the other brothers, as they were in the same shape.

Oh, were you supposed to fix this family again?

“Mammon’s no longer living with you?” You asked as you sat in the living room, though you’re not surprised. You knew the brothers weren’t the greatest with treating Mammon with any love or respect. Yet you knew Mammon always let them use him as a punching bag out of love for his brothers.

A love you couldn’t understand and wondered how Mammon put up with it.

As you sat in the living room, the brothers were looking at you with hope that you could fix them again as you had done before. You shake your head, “So what happened now?” You ask as you knew the brothers were the cause, once again.

The brothers proceed to tell you about the dog incident, and the entire time, you couldn’t help but feel angry with them. You groan as you rub your temple, surely the strongest beings of hell had no idea that their actions and their words had an impact on Mammon? 

Mammon of course, for the greater good of his family, let himself be used and abused. That never sat right with you, of course, human morals were vastly different from demons’ morals.

By the end of it, you couldn’t help but understand why Mammon had finally had enough of his brothers. Even you could feel yourself feeling the same, Satan of course could feel the waves of wrath emanating off of your shoulders.

“So none of you questioned why Mammon was acting strangely? No one asked about the only book that was just laying on the ground? No one questioned the dog that was just watching all of this going on? The fact that Mammon wasn’t talking at all the entire time didn’t hit you like a brick that something was wrong?” 

Your fists were clenched into tight balls as your nails dug into your palms, “I can’t believe you would treat a stranger’s dog better over your own brother!” You scream at them as they all visibly flinch at their master’s outburst and rightful outrage. “Of course, I can see why you would. All you ever do is point out his flaws, you never say anything good about your ‘dear’ brother.”

“Dear god. No wonder Mammon felt like shit seeing you all treat him as if you all actually loved and cared about him. Quit lying to yourself that you all would actually want him back.”

“MC, perhaps you can help us bring Mammon back home? He’ll listen to you.” Satan suggests, feeling slightly meek as your rage was still felt as the brothers all murmur in agreement. Why in the Devildom did they ask you to fix them the moment you came back to visit them?

“No wonder he left this family. I’m disappointed- Disappointed would be too generous.” You mutter as you get up to leave, only for Lucifer to grab your hand. 

“MC. Please. We’ve made a grave mistake. We had taken Mammon for granted, we will try to do better.” he admits as he dared not look at you, his pride wouldn’t allow it as you groan and flicked your hand out of his hold.

“I can’t be the only person fixing this family, I did it once, and it looked like things were looking up. But as soon as I leave, it goes to shit. As if I was never here, why are you all surprised that Mammon left?”

You could only shake your head in disappointment and you head out the door, but gave the brothers one last look. “Change starts with you, and I doubt you’d all change for Mammon.”

With Solomon escorting you to the casino districts, you felt the heat of a thousand lights and blares of the various jingles and sounds of the district. The casinos looked like it had become more alive than your last visit as you could have sworn the little casinos weren’t here before.

Something of course must have changed since you last visited the casinos with Mammon. Of course, the days of Mammon inviting you out as his lucky charm were long over. You had missed those days, you and Mammon had good times, even if Mammon lost some nights. Mammon always showed his gratitude, in his own way of course whenever you did accompany him.

When he won big, he’d shower you with whatever you desired, and when he didn’t, he appreciated your comfort and your unconditional love. Even when you were both out late and in for a lecture from Lucifer, you were always quick to defend him. 

As you and Solomon stepped into the biggest casino building, it was like blood in the water to sharks as the demons all stared at you. A pretty little soul ripe for consumption before a tanned demon in a maroon suit stepped forwards towards you and Solomon, the sorcerer quick to guard you. 

“Ah, you must be the little human Mammon brought here many times before.” he greets as he watches you light up and step forward from the sorcerer at the mention of the Avatar’s name.

“So Mammon’s here?” You ask as Archemond chuckles and you give Solomon’s hand a squeeze to ease his worry. “May I see him?” you ask the other demon as he muses at your excitement and Solomon’s wariness. 

“Well, that depends on your handler, doesn’t it?” he asks as you give Solomon a pleading look, Mammon was the reason you had come back into the Devildom after all. You give a small, but assuring smile. “I’ll be fine Solo. I know what spell to use if he turns on me.” 

The sorcerer relents as he lets you go. “No harm will come to MC?” Solomon dares the demon as the latter holds up his hands in a mock surrender, “Please, if that were to happen Mammon wouldn’t let me leave the premises alive. He’d throw me to my own dog once he’s done with me.” 

Archemond turns as he motions you both to follow him and you and Solomon followed him in the elevator. As elevator kept going up from the ground up, you could only imagine the scenery get smaller as you could see the whole Devildom nightlife from how high up Mammon was living now.

As soon as the bell chimed, Archemond steps out first as you follow him out, at a reasonable distance of course. There was a knock to a door as you could only sit back and watch everything unfold.

“Whaddaya want?! I’m busy ‘ere!” Yup, that definitely sounded like Mammon, with an extra bite at the end. You did remember some days where they were mostly associated with Mammon having his bad days where he’d rant and rave about his bad luck or his brothers giving him a hard time. 

“The human has come to see you.” the underling responds as there was silence on the other side before the jingle of grimm could be heard along with the sound of a chair screeching.

“What human?” Mammon snapped from behind the door, but since you couldn’t wait, you moved from your spot and went to blurt it out just to see Mammon.

“Mammon! It’s me!” You called out. And as soon as your voice was heard, the door had flung open with such force, it might had crushed Archemond between the wall and the door.

“MC?!” Mammon appears before you, as if he’s seen a ghost but turns into relief now that you had come. But he approaches you as you flash a smile, one just for him. “MC.” he speaks your name so fondly and so softly as he takes in your presence as you were here with him now.

Your moment with Mammon was interrupted by the groan of Mammon’s underling groaned as he tossed the door aside, and Mammon snarls at his right hand man, “Whaddya still doin here? Get yer ass outta here and back on the floor!” he commanded as his beleaguered demon huffed and made his way out.

As soon as you two were left alone, you immediately hugged your first man. You were taking Mammon in and you still remembered the scent of Devilish No.5 as it clung onto his very being. Despite how warm he felt, you could there was a coat of coldness that hung on his shoulders. He was different from the last time you had seen him since departing from the Devildom. His goofy self was there, you figured, yet it seemed buried deep inside of him.

Not to be seen by anyone again. 

“I missed you Mammon.” You finally breathe as you melt into his embrace. It was as if you never left him, he always did give you the best hugs. It was a familiar gesture you both shared with each other. His arms wrapped around you as you look up to see that winning smirk of his.

“Of course yer did, who wouldn’t want to miss the Great Mammon? Ya oughta be grateful!” He replies as haughty as he had always presented himself. Yet with you, he was more than willing to drop that facade. It was only you who know who he truly was. As he gazed upon the unconditional love that graced your face and eyes, he sighs in content.

“...I missed ya too Treasure.” Mammon whispers in your ear as he stroked the back of your head as he held you. “It’s been lonely since ya left.” he confesses as you would have been what he needed since that day of the dog switcheroo and the fallout with his brothers.

He had everything he wanted, his penthouse was fit for a top boss like himself. The glitz and glamour of the rich and famous adorned his shelves, countless material wealth stood as trophies of his wealth as they decorated each space of his suite. But they were not as rich as the love and comfort you had given him. 

His new digs lacked the familiarity of your things that he’d secretly keep. A shirt or two, or those little notes and gifts you left for him when he wasn’t looking. He makes a note to himself to get some of his belongings from the House back to his penthouse.

Speaking of the House of Lamentation. He gently releases you from his hold and studies your face as you look up at him with questioning bambi eyes. He groans lowly and he half heartedly releases you from his hold.

“Ya ain’t here cause of them, are ya? If yer are, I ain’t going back!” Mammon asked fervently, not that the surprise visit from you was something he was wanting from you. He just had a hunch that his brothers sent you in their place to get him back. 

You sigh as you shake your head, “Of course not. I had to see them first before coming to you.” You rub your temple as you couldn’t help but frown, “To say I was disappointed in them was an understatement. They should have seen this coming for a long time. And they deserve it.” 

You look at Mammon as he wonders over your words and you go up to cup his face in your hands and let your foreheads touch. The sudden flush of red on his cheeks appeared and you couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m proud of you Mammon. You finally stood up to them, and now you’re free. No more insults, no more accusations, and no more punishments.”

Mammon’s red cheeks were warm against your hands, and he let the words sink in. No more abuse from his family, whom were supposed to love him as much as he did them. But alas, they had always taken advantage of his devotion to his family.

“Yeah...It is. It really is MC.” he gives you a sad smile and before you can say more, a loud yip had interrupted you.

“I think I have what you’re looking for Mammon, but why the need?” Archemond questions as he guides Mammon to the antechamber of his penthouse suite.

“Jus something, I just wanna teach my brothers a lesson.” Mammon mutters as the other demon chuckles, “That so? You done rolling over for your brothers?” Archemond snickered and stopped at one pupping pen.

Before Mammon was one of the many hounds that his underling bred and he observes as the hound growls lowly at him. Archemond holds up a white pup by the scruff, and as he whined, blue eyes upon blue eyes gazed at each other.

“He’ll do.”

“They’ve gone completely gaga over the little pup for the last couple of weeks, it’s amazing.” Archemond reports as Mammon muses over his latest profit reports and he huffs. 

“So you were right,” Mammon grumbles and lays his head in the papers as the latter chuckles, “Of course, everyone loves a puppy. Until they grow up, then they lose their charm. You know all about that don’t you?”

“So...This is him?” You ask as you peer down at the hellhound pup that wiggled excitedly in between you and Mammon and you had squatted down to pet him. To think, something so cute and innocent was enough to tear the brothers apart.

The little hellhound that Mammon had used against his brothers just to prove a point, was scampering around the both of you until you pick him up. “I have to admit, he is cute.” You comment before you notice the pout on Mammon’s face and you laugh. “He’s nowhere as cute as you though Mammon.” You assure him as you give him a peck on the cheek.

“Ya don’t hafta tell me that, I know I’m cuter!” Mammon complains as the pup decides to snooze in your arms. You chuckle quietly as you look down at the pup and gently placed him in a little dog bed near Mammon’s desk. There were some toys, a food and water bowl, and some pads for him. You tilt your head before returning to Mammon, giving him a hug.

“Are you keeping him?” You ask as Mammon sighs, “Ya know I like cats better than dogs. But I guess I can make an exception.” He sighs as he pats the pup. “A brutal reminder for my brothers if they see us. Punishment for them this time huh?” His eyes were forlorn at the thought, but you both knew they had deserved it. His arms stayed close around you as he sighs, melting into your warm embrace and you both knew that you’d be like this for a while. 

“Stay a while MC?”

“Of course Mammon.”

[bakugostiddies]

Okay but like- I just know Shigaraki fucking loves having his cock worshipped.

What he loves most about it is the power he holds over you. Shigaraki gets painfully hard every time you drop to your knees before him at the slightest command. You look so desperate, so needy for him, and he gets off on it.

He never forces you to touch him; he doesn’t even touch you at the beginning. Shigaraki expects you to do all the work. He knows that you will always pleasure him regardless of where you are or what you’ve been doing. The man is a menace; he tugs on your sleeve during league meetings to get you under his desk, he beckons at you from across the room and expects you there without delay, he displays his hardness to you in public shamelessly because he knows that you are his and his alone.

Most of the time, however, he just spreads his thighs and leans backwards in his chair, showing off his bulge to you, and gestures for you to kneel before him. And you do; thats why Shigaraki keeps you around.

First, you mouth at him over his pants, creating a wet spot on his crotch with your spit and drool. You unzip him with your teeth and work his boxers down carefully, so as not to disturb his position. God forbid Shigaraki having to move in the middle of you servicing him. Then you stroke him gently, lovingly, spit on your hands and your face disheveled.

Shigaraki always feigns apathy, but he constantly finds himself using all of his willpower to avoid cumming in your palms. The real struggle begins, however, when you begin placing kisses on his length, getting more and more sloppy as you devolve into desperation.

Eventually, you stop using your hands to pleasure him and they sneak between your own thighs to rub at your clit. He hates when you pleasure yourself- how dare you when he’s right in front of you, when its your job to give, not take? He’ll pull you off his cock to slap you across the face. You moan at that, of course. Fucking whore.

Shigaraki then stuffs his cock down your throat, forcing you to gag on it. Its your punishment for being so needy, such a slut for him. He tells you as much with breathy whispers, calling you a “fucking cockslut” and “a villain cumdump.” You’re wet, dripping onto the floor as he facefucks you. You moan around his length, your hands fondling the parts your mouth can’t reach, and you hump the ground for any release. Shigaraki thinks you look pathetic.

“Acting like a fucking bitch in heat for me,” he pants out, twisting his fingers in your hair. “Do you need your master to relieve you?”

You whimper and he pulls you off his cock so he can slap you with it on the cheek, leaving your cockdrunk face dirty with precum and your own spit.

“Say it,” Shigaraki hisses. “Fucking beg for me.”

“Please, god, please please please master, ple-”

You’re incoherent pleas are cut off by the tip of his boot sliding down to rest at the apex of your thighs, pressing slightly against your clit. You almost scream, but your mouth is suddenly bullied open by his cock once more. You suck eagerly, humping yourself harder and harder against his boot like a fucking dog.

Shigaraki removes his hands from your hair and simply watches your desperate movements, sloppily swallowing around him while rocking yourself back and forth against his shoe. You’re dripping against the leather, probably creating a puddle on the floor, but you don’t care, it feels too good, too fucking good- Shigaraki pushes his boot forward a bit without warning and you moan against his cock. Just a bit more, a bit, you’re almost there, shit you’re almost there-

You cum all over the tip of his leather boot, your thighs convulsing and your mouth screaming against Shigaraki. Your mess elicits a groan from him, and with a quick pump into your mouth, he cums as well, filling your throat before tucking his softening dick back into his pants. You collapse on the floor below him, but he pays you no heed. You’ll be fine, and Shigaraki would take care of you later. He never mistreats his plaything. But he has more pressing matters at hand.

Shigaraki turns to face the subordinates sitting before him, their eyes as wide as saucers and their mouths wide open. He smiles crookedly.

“Enjoying the show?”

[willowwhispersspeakeasy]

hi hi, can you please do the dog boy/person mc but with the dateables? thank you!!

sequel to this request

Dateables with dogboy! MC

warnings: reader will be gender neutral this time (but im still calling it “dogboy” bc I think its cute~) mild power play, mild pet play themes, no horny this time

Diavolo

oh you are simply the cutest mc! he was worried at first, your already kind nature now being blindly trusting. and it would seem you’ve decided to view him as your “master”, which he doesn’t mind. you need someone to look after you and he’s happy to receive your attention.

“come here pup!” Dia pats the top of his thighs, grinning as you bolt towards him. he laughs as you throw yourself into his lap on the couch. he rubs your back at your ears as you buzz with excitement. 

hes going to spoil you with affection for these 24hours. he won't let you leave his lap, absolutely not. hes going to call you all of the cute names too. puppy, baby, good boy, good girl, anything and everything. 

Barbatos

oh dear, what an interesting turn of events. Barb is calmer then Dia of course, gentler with you. he’s a busy demon and having you on his heels like a lost puppy, while cute, is a little difficult to deal with. 

“what is it little one? you’re still following me.” he sighs, setting down the tray he was carrying. 

“’m sorry master... I just feel safer when im with you.” you admit shyly. Barb is taken aback, his many years as a servant hes never been seen as the “master”

“come here little one, I'm sure I can find a use for that cute boundless energy of yours.” he smiles softly, opening his arms and letting you attach yourself to his side.

Solomon

he offers to turn you back first. he can finagle a spell of some kind to speed up the process. if you refuse and want to stay a pup he will be intrigued, but leave you be. 

“well if you don't want me to change you back why do I still find you attached to my hip?” he mused teasingly. Solomon was gentle as he rubbed your ears, smiling as your tail began to wag. 

“’cause I wanna spend time with you master!” your hand flew over your mouth at your unplanned honesty. Solomon raised a brow, chuckling. 

“oh? maybe your “master” should teach you some tricks hm? now, sit.” he instructed, pointing at the ground at his feet. you followed without hesitation, looking up at the sorcerer’s mischievous grin. “good dog~”

Simeon

how adorable~ Simeon is smitten with this turn of events. you are just so cute and you refuse to leave his side. at first he doesn’t treat you any differently then usual, but when it becomes clear you are much needier for his affections he will indulge you. 

you lay with your head in the angel’s lap. his fingers gently petting your scalp and rubbing at your ears. after a fun playdate with Luke you were now exhausted and needy for cuddles. 

the angel hummed an old hymn, turning the pages of his novel. the smell of him and the gentleness of his touches lulling you into a soft slumber. 

Luke

hes worried. mc? are you okay? you’re acting just like a dog? are you going to have to stay like this? Solomon and Simeon will have to reassure him that in a day or so you will return to normal. 

the little angel laughs wildly as you pin him down and roll around the hill. he doesn't get a chance to play much, seeing as hes always around adults all the time. you pretend to growl at the grass, tail wagging as he laughs once more.

you spend the rest of the day picking flowers and berries. playing games about adventures and magic and fairy tails. Luke finally falls asleep on your tummy, belly full of sweets and dreams heavy with imagination. Simeon thanks you after you turn back, thanks you for letting Luke be a child. something he doesn't get to do much. 

[translations-by-aiimee]

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 30

Original Title:  二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 30 - This Venerable One Doesn't Want to Eat Tofu

"Hey, hey, did you hear? Elder Yuheng violated the sect rules. As punishment, he has to kneel in Yanluo Hall for three days."

In the morning class the next day, the disciples gathered on the Platform of Righteousness and Evil to practice and meditate. In the end, they are all teenagers and 20-year-olds, and they couldn't just do as they were told. If a master wasn't paying attention, they'll start whispering and gossiping.

The news that Chu Wanning had been punished quickly spread.

The disciples who witnessed the beating yesterday were not shy about sharing the gossip with others.

"Wow, why are you guys finding out about it so late? Oh . . . So yesterday Elder Lucun took you up the mountain to collect night dew flowers? Well then - you guys really missed out on a lot! Yesterday evening, in the Qingtian Temple, there was flesh and blood flying everywhere. It was horrible. Elder Yuheng was beaten with more than two hundred strikes! More than two hundred strikes! Not a single one missed! There was no mercy!"

The disciple made a particularly exaggerated expression every time he said a new sentence. No need to mention the show he was putting on for all his junior brothers and sisters surrounding him.

"Do you actually count all two hundred strikes? Even a big man could be killed, not to mention Elder Yuheng. He couldn't stand it and passed out. This made our young master mad. He rushed in and fought with Elder Jielu. He said not to lay another finger on Elder Yuheng. Ah, that scene—"

His facial features were wrinkled up like a steamed bun. He squeezed his eyebrows. Finally, he stretched out a finger, swaying from side to side, and summed it up in three words:

"Tsk tsk task."

Immediately, a younger sister disciple paled: "What! Elder Yuheng fainted?"

"Young Master and Elder Jielu got into a fight?"

"It's no wonder I didn't see Elder Yuheng in this morning class . . . so pitiful . . . what crime did he commit?"

"I heard that he beat a civilian in a fit of rage."

". . ."

Such gossips drifted into Xue Meng's ears from time to time. Life-Death Peak's young master had completely inherited his shizun's temper, so he was very irritable. It was unfortunate that more than one person was gossiping about this. There were groups all over the Platform of Righteousness and Evil, all muttering "Elder Yuheng was punished" and so on. It made him feel so irritated, but there was nothing he could do.

In one corner was Xue Meng, veins bulging on his forehead, and in the other was Mo Ran, unable to stop yawning.

Xue Meng couldn't direct his anger anywhere else, so he viciously spat at Mo Ran: "The plan of the day relies on the morning. You dog, you're so lazy in the morning! What has Shizun been teaching you?"

"Huh?" Mo Ran said with sleepy eyes followed by another big yawn. "Xue Meng, that's enough. I can handle Shizun's lecturing. Who do you think you are? I'm your cousin. Behave yourself when you talk with your cousin. Don't be so rude."

Xue Meng said fiercely: "My cousin is a dog. Be whatever you want to be!"

Mo Ran laughed: "You're so mean. If you don't look out for your elder sect brother, think about how disappointed Shizun will be once he finds out."

"You still have the audacity to mention Shizun! Let me ask you, when he went to the Court of Discipline yesterday, why didn't you stop him?"

"MengMeng, he's a shizun. Yuheng of the Evening Sky, Beidou Immortal. What did you want me to do?"

Xue Meng was furious. He drew his sword, his sharp eyebrows furrowed angrily: "What the hell did you call me?!!!"

Mo Ran's grin stretched from ear to ear: "Be good, MengMeng. Sit down."

Xue Meng bellowed: "Mo Weiyu, I'll kill you!!"

Shi Mei was caught between the two, listening to their daily bickering. He couldn't help sighing. He silently held the edge of his forehead, trying to concentrate on reading his book: "The sun and the moon are poured in the pot* when the spiritual core is first formed. The way of heaven cannot be interpreted, and life and death are involved in the process. . ."

*(T/N: 日月壶中灌 - referring to the Daoist practice of leisurely inactiveness)

Three days passed in the blink of an eye and Chu Wanning's period of reflection came to an end.

According to the rules, the next thing he had to face was a three-month grounding period. During this period of time, he could not leave Life-Death Peak and needed to go to Mengpo Hall to do miscellaneous chores, clean the corridor pillars of Naihe Bridge, sweep the steps in front of the mountain gate, and so on.

Elder Jielu was anxious: "Elder Yuheng, to be honest, I don't think you should do these things. You are the best shizun of your generation. Doing this kind of dishwashing and floor cleaning . . . it feels wrong." He trailed off, leaving half the sentence unsaid --

The main reason is that the old man doubts whether you can even sweep floors, cook and wash clothes!

Chu Wanning didn't doubt himself at all and went to report to Mengpo Hall in an orderly manner.

All of Mengpo Hall, from the chief steward to the servant, was shocked to hear that Chu Waning was coming to do hard labour. They were terrified, as if they were approaching the enemy.

Chu Wanning, dressed in white, arrived in a flutter.

His handsome face was cold and calm, completely expressionless. If you added an auspicious cloud under his feet and a whisk between his arms, he would've looked like the picture-perfect immortal.

Manager Meng Potang felt very ashamed and uneasy. He was actually supposed to make such a beautiful man wash vegetables and cook.

Chu Wanning didn't have the self-image of being a beautiful man. He stepped into the kitchen and coldly swept his gaze over the crowd, who couldn't help but take a step back.

". . ." Chu Wanning was straightforward. "What should I do?"

The chief steward coyly pinched the edge of his hem and thought about what he should say. He cautiously went with: "How does this elder feel about washing vegetables?"

Chu Wanning said: "Okay."

The chief steward was greatly relieved. He originally thought that Chu Wanning led a very pampered life. He might be reluctant to do this kind of labour, however, all the other jobs were either dirty and tiring or required some skill. He was worried that Chu Wanning wouldn't be able to do a good job. Since Chu Wanning easily agreed to wash the vegetables, he didn't need to worry about it.

As it turns out, the chief steward was really naive.

There was a clear stream in front of Mengpo Hall. Chu Wanning went to the stream with a basket of green vegetables. He rolled up his sleeves and began to wash the vegetables.

This area is under the jurisdiction of Elder Xuanji. Occasionally a disciple of the Xuanji sect passed by. He saw Chu Wanning actually washing vegetables and was so scared that he couldn’t even get a word out. He rubbed his eyes three or four times to make sure he wasn't seeing things. He said in astonishment: "Elder Yu-Yuheng -- good-good morning."

Chu Wanning raised his eyes: "Good morning."

Elder Xuanji's disciples shivered and fled.

". . ."

Chu Wanning didn't bother to talk with them and continued with his business. He broke the leaves, washed them, and threw them back into the basket.

He washed them very carefully. He broke each vegetable leaf apart, repeatedly brushing them thoroughly. The consequence of that was -- come noon, the basket of vegetables still hadn't been washed.

The man waiting in the dining room was anxious, pacing around in circles: "What should we do? Why hasn't the elder come back yet? If he doesn't come back with the vegetables, how are we going to make the stir-fried beef and vegetables?"

The chief steward looked at the sun and said: "Forget it. Hurry, let's replace it with braised beef."

So, when Chu Wanning returned, Mengpo Hall had already served the beef. The stew was so crispy and flavourful that there was no need for vegetables at all. Chu Wanning frowned. He held his vegetables, rather unhappily, and coldly asked: "If you didn't want the vegetables, why did you make me wash them?"

The chief steward's hairs stood on end. He wiped the cold sweat on his forehead with his handkerchief and said something that he regretted: "That's not it. I was thinking you could make a pot of stewed tofu with vegetables?"

Chu Wanning had no expression. Still holding his vegetables, he tilted his head and pondered silently: ". . ."

The chief steward hurriedly said: "If you don't want to, that's alright--"

He hadn't even finished speaking before Chu Wanning asked: "Where is the tofu?"

Chief Steward: ". . ."

"Elder Yuheng, do you . . . know how to cook?"

Chu Wanning said: "I'm not completely ignorant. I'll give it a try."

At noon that day, all the disciples happily entered Mengpo Hall as usual in groups, looking for somewhere to sit. Then, they headed to the counter to get their food served.

There was no shortage of food on Life-Death Peak. The food had always been plentiful and today was no exception.

The braised beef was fatty and lean, the fish shreds were vibrant and rich, the farmhouse pork was golden and crispy, and the chopped pepper fish was red and tempting. The disciples rushed to grab their favourite foods, lining up around the hall, asking the chef to add a spoonful of sweet and sour pork ribs to them, pour some marinade on the rice, or add some spicy sauce.

The ones who always made it to the front of the line first were Elder Lucun's disciples. The little guy at the head of the line had a big pimple on his nose. All he had on his mind was some Mapo Tofu. He skillfully carried the wooden tray to the last counter without raising his eyes and said: "Shizun, I'd like a bowl of tofu."

The shizun, with pale, slender fingers, handed him a plate full of tofu.

However, it wasn't the Mapo Tofu he was familiar with. Instead, it was a plate of strange food with a charred black colour and indistinguishable ingredients.

The disciple was surprised: "What is that?"

"Tofu boiled with bok choy."

Mengpo Hall was full of people, so the disciple didn't pay attention to answering the other person's voice. He said angrily: "Are you an alchemist? Can you even call this tofu with vegetables? I don't want it. Take it back!"

While cursing, he glared at the shizun there. As a result, when he saw the person standing behind the counter, the disciple screamed in fright and almost knocked the tray over.

"Elder Yu-Yuheng!"

"Hmm."

The disciple was on the verge of tears: "No, that's not what I - I didn't mean that just now. I. . ."

"Since you're not eating it, I'll take it back." Chu Wanning said blankly, "Don't waste it."

The disciple stiffly picked up the plate, handed it to Chu Wanning then left with his tail between his legs.

In a short while, everyone knew that Elder Yuheng was standing at the last counter, so the originally lively Mengpo Hall was suddenly silent.

The disciples lined up like a pack of puppies, and they hurriedly grabbed their food, panicked. They went up to the last counter respectfully, greeted the elder, and stumbled away.

"Hello, Elder Yuheng."

"Mmm."

"Good day, Elder Yuheng."

"Good day."

"Elder Yuheng has worked really hard."

". . ."

The disciples were very disciplined and were acting with an abundance of caution, so Chu Wanning accepted the tense greetings from each disciple, but no one dared try his pot of boiled tofu with green vegetables.

Slowly, the line was getting shorter and the food in front of other shizuns was almost gone. Only Chu Wanning still had a pot full of food. The pot of vegetables was completely cold and untouched.

Chu Wanning's face didn't waver, but his heart was conflicted. He had washed them all morning. . .

At that point, his three disciples showed up. Xue Meng was still in silver-blue light armour, refreshing getup. He bounced over with excitement: "Shizun! How are you? Does your wound hurt?"

Chu Wanning was very calm: "It doesn't hurt."

Xue Meng: "Well, that's good."

Chu Wanning glanced at him and suddenly asked: "Do you eat tofu?"

Xue Meng: ". . ."

[tales-unique]

FAITH, LOST  II

Tagging @chelseareferenced so she can read this goodness first hand! ;3

Chapter 2

“You have got to be joking!” Heisenberg can’t contain himself, not that he ever censored himself in the past. This is beyond ridiculous, even for the high and mighty bitch herself. He’s quick to turn on his heel to stare down the deceiver but he doesn’t call her out. Not yet anyway. He doesn’t need to, not when Lady Goliath looks about ready to burst a vein. “Mother Miranda, I must protest!” Lady Dimitrescu hisses, eyes practically glowing with rage. “Heisenberg hasn’t the faintest idea of the gift you are giving, he’d sooner throw it to the dogs!”

You wince at how little she regards you, conflicted. As it stands Lady Dimitrescu is fighting viciously to no doubt claim you as her own, which bodes marginally better than the man who would sooner toss you aside without a second thought than look at you. The Countess stands tall but her posture reminds you of a petulant child, demanding to be given what they want. Albeit a regal one. All while Heisenberg stands there with a mean snarl on his lips that brandishes his impressive canines, aimed squarely at Mother Miranda. Lady Beneviento sits silent as the grave watching the exchange while her devilish doll wiggles in excitement on her lap. Lord Moreau lingers on the edge of the fray, wringing his hands; he’s clearly distressed at the fighting and you almost feel ashamed for being the cause of the turmoil. “My decision is final,” Mother Miranda states firmly, voice echoing unnaturally around the room, her form already receding towards the doors. “Mother Miranda, please!” Lady Dimitrescu calls out, a brief look of panic flitting across her porcelain features when she receives no response at all. The cracks are already showing — she will not get her way today. In a desperate attempt to regain control she turns to Heisenberg, who stands tense as he watches Mother Miranda leave. “Heisenberg!” She seethes, hands balled tightly into fists that threaten to snap the delicate neck of her opera length cigarette holder into splinters, “say something!” You watch, helpless, as he casually lifts his hammer, taking his sweet time under Lady Dimitrescu’s smouldering gaze. The others have already made a hasty retreat, following their Mother’s steps closely, leaving you at the mercy of the feuding siblings. When Heisenberg finally locks eyes with her, hammer set proudly on his shoulder, the tension is so thick you struggle to breathe. Then, he smirks. The tautness of his body melts away into a well versed confident swagger, complete with a wolfish grin, and Lady Dimitrescu recoils so quickly in rage that you fear she’s given herself whiplash. The tirade of pure and unadulterated hatred that spills forth is in no way befitting of a woman of such high standing but Heisenberg seems unaffected. In fact, it amuses him to see her become undone when he ignores her. You don’t understand how he’s so calm when faced with such venom, practically cowering when she turns to you, face twisted in indignation. “Now don’t be a sore loser,” he tuts, quickly tugging you to his side, “Mother Miranda made her choice, are you really going to defy her?” He teases, grin widening at the sight of faint colour spreading on the Countess’ face. Heisenberg always knew how to get under skin and make her squirm. Sparing you one last glance Lady Dimitrescu turns sharply on her heel to leave, huffing in annoyance and frustration. Neither of you are worthy of even a biting retort, it seems. “You can breathe, you know.” You startle at Heisenberg’s teasing remark, finally releasing the breath that you didn’t realise you had been holding the whole time. You had been so transfixed on the very real prospect of your demise at the hands of a nine foot tall Vampire woman that you may have neglected that small fact of life. Lightheadedness makes your vision swim and for a moment you think you’re about to faint. If ever there was something to make you feel like you had one foot in the grave that moment was very much it. It does not bear repeating. Heisenberg takes in your deer-in-headlights expression, chuckling at the way his stare makes your little hummingbird heart flutter more. You’re absolutely petrified. It’s understandable, he knows that he’s dangerous and your little flock has more than enough stories about the big bad Lycan master that lets his hounds descend from the ominous Factory to feast on the nonbelievers. Utter bullshit. Well, mostly. But they don’t need to know that, of course. “So,” he drawls, tilting his head, “Mother Miranda says you’re my new— what was it? Ah, right, right, my new servant.” It’s a statement, but you’re not sure if he fully understands what he’s supposed to actually do with you, just like Lady Dimitrescu remarked. You nod shakily, bringing your still bound wrists up in a feeble attempt to warm yourself. It doesn’t offer much, the metal is so cold it brings your skin out in goosebumps. Thankfully, Heisenberg notices. “Oh, uh, sorry about that,” he clears his throat, a sudden switch, and with a flick of his wrist the shackles snap apart and shoot off to the side. They clatter to the ground unceremoniously, rusted and broken. It’s almost sad how much you relate to them at that moment. “T-thank you,” you answer meekly, rubbing at your sore wrists. The blood rushes to your fingers, making them tingle. It’s an odd, but muted, sensation, given the gravity of your situation. He doesn’t reply, merely tips his hat at you before motioning for you to go ahead of him. You’re unsure if it’s because he’s a gentleman or if it’s a power play but you move regardless, your pace hesitant. You’re not eager to be thrust out into the chill of the mountain, not that it’s any warmer inside at this point. You can only hope that the Factory is better than this.

It’s so much worse. The heat— it’s humid, stagnant, and downright heinous. Steam hisses and spits from rusted, internal pipes that streak across the walls and ceilings of the corridors, making the air humid and cloying. Your feet ache through your boots as you try to keep up with Heisenberg's strides, echoing off the metal grating underfoot in an annoying clank clank clank rhythm. In an attempt to cool yourself down you try to sweep up your damp hair from where it sticks to the back of your neck, grimacing at the wetness that covers your fingers. You’re a sweating mess and you hate it. The elevator is your near breaking point. In such a small space the heat intensifies, stuffy and borderline unbearable. It’s normal, your muddled mind tries to rationalize, since the lower levels are closer to the furnace, and it’ll get better once you go up, but it doesn’t take away from discomfort. You notice with great irritation that Heisenberg is barely batting an eyelid, though it’s to be expected. He lives there, of course he’d be used to it. The ride to the upper levels is uncomfortable and not just because of the humidity. His eyes are on you the entire time, at least you think so given those round glasses that he wears obscure his eyes from your view, no doubt wondering just why he’d taken in such a mess. And a mess you most certainly are. Heisenberg can see how your desperately try to keep stringy, moist hair from plastering itself to your sweat-soaked skin, failing miserably as the rebellious strands slip from your fingers. There are dark patches to your simple dress, made worse by how it clings to your body from the heat. He can barely stop himself from smirking when you curse quietly under your breath, rolling your eyes in irritation as you fuss over your hair. It’s the first time that you’ve shown some real spirit. Your annoyance is refreshing on your flushed face, the dim, artificial light casting you in a dewy, warm glow. Sadly, it’s not enough to overpower how badly you need a bath and fresh clothes. “Well, here we are,” he announces as the elevator stops and the door opens up; your new home. It’s another long hallway that looks similar to the dozen odd that you walked through to get here, but you do notice that it’s comparatively cooler. It must be near the top of the Factory. It’s a pleasant relief and you follow Heisenberg to a cluster of rooms a little lighter on your feet. The tour is, well, barely that, as he shows you a bedroom, a kitchen, and a bathroom, all outfitted with the barest of necessities and far too much scrap metal, tools, and other engineering components. You linger in the doorway of the modest bedroom, staring at the single bed pushed up in the corner as though that’s the out of place object in the room. He leaves you for a moment, fumbling through papers and projects on the heavily cluttered desk that takes up the length of one wall, and you wander the hallway, peeking inside rooms with doors slightly ajar. Most are storage rooms with all sorts of junk inside, but one looks salvageable with an old, banged up couch and minimal debris. As you look about envisioning how to make it more homely, leaning against the door frame, you’re not paying attention and it gives Heisenberg the perfect opportunity to scare you. “Found yourself a room, huh?” He whispers into your ear, pulling back quickly as you shriek in alarm and swing out your arm instinctively to hit him. You can barely hear your heart hammering wildly in your chest over the sound of his raucous laughter, retreating from him quickly. “Why would you do that?” You shout, wide eyes staring at him. Heisenberg can barely pull himself together, breaking into small fits of laughter at the sight of your astonished expression, exhaling deeply to try and ground himself. “Couldn’t help it,” he explains, grinning at you, “it was a perfect setup!” Flabbergasted, your mouth falls open at his response; this man was one of the four Lords of the village, not some child playing tricks! Noticing the offense you take at his actions Heisenberg scoffs, his own expression souring as he turns away from you. What was he honestly thinking? You were just another haughty, stuck-up, loyalist to Mother fucking Miranda that clearly wouldn’t know a joke if it came up and slapped you in the face. “Bathroom is right there, you reek,” he snaps harshly, pointing into a small room lined with cracked, dirty tiles and rusting, dated appliances. You glare at his back, wordlessly going inside and doping your best to slam the door shut, but all you manage is a half-descent rattle. You look about yourself and suppress a shiver of disgust, staring at the old, rusting shower that has clearly seen better days, questioning whether you can forgo washing after all. Needs must, you think to yourself, as you dig out the cleanest towel you can find from a rickety old cabinet in the corner. Thankfully the water is fine when you turn the handle and you quickly strip to take advantage of the first good thing since you came to the Factory. As you stand under the tepid spray you wonder if you are, as Mother Miranda had said, perfect for this task. Doubt nips at your resolve and tries to whittle down your faith, but you refuse to let it win. You must succeed, for Mother Miranda.

[inlovewithhisblueeyes]

Borrowed

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader

Word Count: ~1.4k

Warnings: Talks about Suicide, Survivor’s Guilt, Depression, Parental Abuse, Panic Attacks, Use of Platonic Pet Names

A/N: Today is my 22nd birthday. I have always had issues regarding my birthday and getting older. I spent 12 years of my life actively wishing I was dead and never expecting to make it to 18. It’s hard for me to understand that I’m still here 4 years after my believed expiry date. I’m getting better each year at dealing with all the feelings that come with my birthday. I’m okay and this piece helped me get out what I struggle with telling others. The nice thing at least is this year I’m not spending this day alone.

You let out a shaky breath as you laid out in the grass. The stars were just barely shining through the cloudy sky above you. The night breeze was still warm enough that you didn’t need a jacket. It would have been a pleasant night if the voices lurking in the back of your mind had taken some time off for once.

Tonight they were screaming at you, louder than ever before. Their voices bounced off the walls your mind, echoing endlessly. The pain in your chest was too much to bare. It was a crushing weight that threatened to flatten you to utter nothingness. No matter what you did to cope it just wasn’t working like it normally would.

Tonight they were screaming at you, louder than ever before. Their voices bounced off the walls your mind, echoing endlessly. The pain in your chest was too much to bare. It was a crushing weight that threatened to flatten you to utter nothingness. No matter what you did to cope it just wasn’t working like it normally would.

You had to swallow down the bile that was trying to creep up your throat. There was an ever present fear seeping from every single pore as you did the one card you had left to play. You didn’t want to do this on tonight of all nights. Hands shaking you type out the words that could save or damn you.

10:28 PM Midnight Picnic. Delivered …. Read ✓

The swell of anxiety becomes too much as you wait for those little dots to appear. You toss your phone next to you as you struggle to hold back tears. The voices seem grow into a roar as the minutes slip away. Everything he ever said to you is stuck on repeat in your head

Burden….

You held him back…

It was your fault…

You ruined his life…

If only you hadn’t been born…

You didn’t deserve to be alive…

They all loved him better than you…

Useless…

Replaceable…

Selfish…

You hadn’t even realized that the tears had burst out, painting your cheeks, your neck, your shirt and most likely staining the ground under you. It’s not until you feel something pressing down on you and warmness chasing the tears off your face that you realize you had been hyperventilating. A soft clicking comes from somewhere behind you as you finally open your tear-blinded eyes. There, resting on top of your shaking form, was a fuzzy face you knew too well.

“Kal, up,” the figure behind you utters,” You gotta let her up, boy.”

The bear of a dog gave a disappointed huff before doing as his master commanded. You felt warm hands gently help you sit up and soon after you feel a solid mass against your back and two long legs incase yours. If anything, the close contact caused your panicking to cease only for a moment. Henry’s arm wrap around your shoulders and he settles you against him. Kal lays himself down by the two of you.

“I’m here for you, Bunny. I know how you might be a little trapped right now, but I want you to try and listen to me alright,” he whispers and waits for the nod that comes between your gasping breaths,” See you’re doing so well already. Remember that exercise your gram does with you. I know you do. Can I help you with it?”

You nod again as you try to unscramble the wires in your brain. You feel his breath tickle the top of your head as he continues to hold you tightly.

“Good bunny. I want you to try and tell me 5 things you can see. Take all the time you need okay?”

“St-t-tars…” You start between gulps, “Grass…..Kal…..uhmmm”

“You can do it, sweetheart,” Henry says as he reaches down and gives your shaking hands a squeeze.

“Your Flops… Trees..”

“Now 4 you can feel.”

“Your Hand…the ground…the breeze…my shirt,” You respond with your voice a bit stronger than before.

“You’re doing great. 3 things you can hear,” Henry adds giving your hands another squeeze.

“You..me..the bugs.”

“We’re almost there. Tell me 2 things you can smell.”

“My lotion and detergent,” You voice, feeling yourself come back even more.

“Last thing. What can you taste?” The Brit asks.

“My tea from earlier,” You sigh slumping into him more.

The two of you remain there, listening to the night’s music. You continue to come down from your attack and your breathing gets softer and softer as he holds you. A few more moments pass before he loosens his hold on you because he knows that you’re back in control. You stay against him as you try to find a thought you can easily share. You wiggle away from him slightly and then turn yourself sideways so you can rest your head above his heartbeat.

“I’m so sorry.” You murmur into his warm chest,” I couldn’t be in my place anymore.”

“It’s alright, Bunny,” He mumbles, the nickname causing your nose to scrunch up slightly,” You’re the one who keeps wiggling that nose of yours like that.”

You chuckle softly before taking some deep breaths.

“I can’t stop thinking about it you know. How I never planned to be here this long and here I am still here. It feels like I stole someone else’s time. Someone more deserving,” You express, desperately trying to keep yourself from getting worked up again.

Henry wraps his arms around you again, giving a squeeze to tell you to continue.

“I know Megan says that it’s okay to not have a plan, but I don’t like that. I don’t like feeling like I have no control. I always thought I wouldn’t make it to 18 and every year that passes hurts more because I feel like I’m on borrowed time. That maybe this is all some sort of dream or something and I’ll wake up and I’ll be back in that house with him,” You blubber.

He keeps holding you tight and slightly rocks you in his arms. Kal even moves to rest his head on your leg.

“I still hear him in my head. He keeps telling me how I ruined his life, that he can’t see his girlfriend as much because of me, that I’m causing him all these problems-“

“Bunny,” Henry cuts you off,” Your father was wrong. He had his problems just like you, but he shouldn’t have taken it out on you. You’re not the reason why any of his life turned out the way it did…”

“But I killed him didn’t I? Speed up his desire to do what he did. The thing that I was supposed to do,” You cry into his chest.

“Y/N, you didn’t kill him. He should never have made you feel like killing yourself was the only way to help him. You are not on borrowed or stolen time. You were meant to be here. You deserve to be here. Your life matters to me and Kal and so many others. I know this time of the year is rough, but you did something you never did before. You reached out to someone instead of handling this alone and I am so damn proud of you,” Henry uttered and he held you tighter, blinking away the own tears in his eyes.

You sob harder at that, letting it all out. He lets you sob for as long as you need to. Occasionally rubbing your back and whispering how proud he is of you over and over until it sticks. The tears eventually run dry and you breathing evens out once more. You listen to each breath he takes, the praise he gives you. The silence only broken by a small dinging from nearby. Henry adjusts to slightly to see his watch alert midnight.

“I’m only going to say this once so don’t get too annoyed. Happy Birthday Bunny,” The man whispers to you,” Now I know we can’t do anything to crazy to distract you but I may have brought part of the festivities early. Theres two cupcakes in the car with your name on it. How about I grab those, we go inside, curl up on your couch, and watch The Little Mermaid? Maybe I can start calling you fishy instead huh? Kal thinks its a good idea right bud.”

Kal huffs loudly in approval before getting up to stretch and do his business. You laugh at that as you pull away from him slightly. “Thank you Hen. I really needed that.”

“That’s what friends are for. Now let’s go before my cheat day passes by.”

A/N 2: If you've read this far, I want you to know you're not alone. Trust me I know it feels like that sometimes, but there are people who are there for you. I'm one of those people if you need it. You deserve to be here in this life just as much as I do. ❤️

[nesswritings]

Mine, Forever

Oikawa clears his throat, breaking the silence. “I’ve been thinking, and I finally have a task for you. You know Ushiwaka, correct? Since you failed to take me out, I’m hoping you can take him out.”

a/n: My piece for @inarizahki's mafia collab. Thanks Sunny for the slight peer pressure to do this, it reminded me how much I love writing and mafia au's. Sending my love to you <3 <3 <3 word count: 2.2k

Warnings: stockholm syndrome, dub-con, general mafia topics (violence, guns, blood, etc.), death mentions, slight yandere oikawa, alcohol and drugs mentions, nsfw content at end

Shit. The bullet missed, hitting the man’s shoulder instead of going clean through his head. Below there already was a commotion, curses and directions being shouted out by someone. Time was limited, and you had to get back before you got caught. Karasuno was expecting you back safely, though the assassination was a failed mission. Survive, get back, and recover from this shock, then you could try again. Stairs in the back, the gun left behind so you could leave quickly.

But arms caught you as you emerged from the door at the bottom, your instincts already kicking in. The grip was too tight, and there were others there. Outnumbered, and stuck in this position. Your eyes rested on the muscular man you had attempted to take out, his slumped form against an alleyway wall as another man pressed a blue handkerchief against the wound. But that sight was short lived, your chin forced up to take in a new man, a man who didn’t seem to belong with the rest of Seijoh.

“You hurt Iwa-chan, sweetheart,” he cooed, ignoring the flinch from the nickname. Oh, that wouldn’t do, his eyes tracing over your outfit. It was easy to catch the small snag of the patch, pulling at the collar to truly take it in. A smirk set on his face, lithe fingers tearing the patch off the fabric before it was handed off. “Ah, so cute and clueless you’ve been involved. Don’t worry, they’ll pay in a different way. But you. You’re mine, princess, and don’t you ever forget that.” Dark words from a pretty man, words that only made him smile as he caught you off guard. But the rest understood, a murmur coming from Mattsun. “Don’t worry, I won’t let your pretty head hit the ground. So just relax.”

You sit up in the bed, your breath racing and your heart pounding in your chest. Only a dream, it was only a dream. No, it was a dream of the night you had been caught, the night Karasuno had been raided and the bloody massacre on the base. Oikawa had promised you’d pay in a different way, but you weren’t sure how that would happen. You weren’t used for sex, you weren’t on the streets trafficking drugs. No, you were stuck in this small room daily, with meals delivered and the blinking red light of the camera being a reminder that someone was always watching.

How long has it been? Days passed slowly and blended together. You would see Oikawa most days, though you refused to talk about Karasuno and who you were. But, despite the challenge, the company was nice. At least a week of being here, you knew that much, but the world would be different if you ever left.

The knock interrupts your thoughts, sitting up as you see the aforementioned man walk in. Two trays instead of one, the suit sharp with the light blue accents. Meant to seem less intimidating, and to show that they had a sense of style, Oikawa had once told you. A useless fact that stuck with you, the tapping against your cheek snapping you out of your thoughts for good.

“Eat up, princess.” Oikawa left little room for debate, settling at the desk with his eyes pointed at you. His gaze drops to his phone, glancing over the latest update. Iwaizumi would heal with time, though a nasty scar from the bullet would remain. Oikawa clears his throat, breaking the silence. “I’ve been thinking, and I finally have a task for you. You know Ushiwaka, correct? Since you failed to take me out, I’m hoping you can take him out.”

Ushijima, a man you knew simply by name. Larger than Seijoh, far more terrifying, and a beast of a man to mess with. Rumors always spread about that man, whether it was about how he tortured someone or his latest acquisition. Someone like him was far beyond your paygrade, your fork dropping onto the plate as you processed the request. “I can’t.”

“Oh, you can. And you will.” Oikawa didn’t bother with finishing his food, leaving the half-touched plate on the desk. “I’ll send someone for you soon. Until then, be good.”

Another typical day, outside of that small taste of freedom. Even if you weren’t to be trusted, your hands bound with rope, you were out of that room. A small taste of fresh air, finally able to see where you were. The Seijoh headquarters, luxurious and full of their distinguishing light blue accents. You follow behind closely, almost in shock at being led into Oikawa’s office. A meeting in progress with his closest men and an invite from the leader. His lap, with little choice.

Boring, dreadfully boring, but the interaction was nice. Though they continued on as though you weren’t there, it gave your mind a break from thinking over your mistakes. No, your focus was on the warmth of Oikawa, the gentle swirl of his fingers on your thighs. The touch was enough to distract you, your head resting against Oikawa’s shoulder. Far more gentle than that night, almost as if he cared. Maybe he did. It was a bad mindset to let yourself fall into, but if he cared, there was no reason to let your guard down a little.

“You’re dismissed for the day. Iwa, make sure to get some rest.” Oikawa accepts the grunt from him, waving off the men without a care in the world. His focus was on you, his new pawn to use as he needed. “You’re staying, sweetheart.” His hands move to keep a tight grasp on your waist, leaning forward to let his cheek rub against yours. There was so much he could do, so much he wanted to do, but trust was a little more important. Establish that trust, then he would be able to have his way with you. “You’ve been kept in that room for far too long, haven’t you? You can spend your days by me, if you’d like. All you have to do is listen. Deal?”

He wanted you to be on board with the Ushijima plan. Maybe he thought you were dumb, but you weren’t, your eyes locking on the map on the wall. Pins marked where various fights had been, a giant red X over where Karasuno had once been. Your home was gone, and there was no return to those you considered family. “It’s a deal.”

You had freedom, though in an unconventional way. Oikawa was glued to you, or you were at his side. Like a master and a dog, though you were granted alone time once you were brought back to your room in the evenings. The freedom helped you to keep track of the dates, to keep track of time, and to learn more about Seijoh. Members, the history, what their plans involved. Oikawa trusted you, or you would meet your end after you completed what he needed you for.

The plan was in place, and the night quickly approached. Everyone was counting down the hours until the fall of Shiratorizawa, until Seijoh would be the ones in charge of the entire region.

“Your dress, your highness.” Makki’s teasing voice was the only one in the small room, your eyes looking at the bag. Oikawa had mentioned a party, but dressing up? You stand from the bed, the dress revealed. Black and silky, bound to be tight and short on you. And, of course, jewelry with blue accents, as if being with Oikawa wouldn’t expose you. “Thanks, Makki.” Your fingers run over the material, looking at the mafia man who didn’t budge. He was going to help you get ready. This was beyond embarrassing, a groan leaving your lips. “Make it quick.”

Tight enough to show off your figure, yet loose enough for Makki to strap the pistol to your side and give it a teasing pat. Everything was almost too good, letting him escort you out to the main entrance. Seijoh was gathered, and more than ready to go.

“Thanks, Makki.” Oikawa offers his arm out for you, his plan for the night set in place. Keep you next to him, entertain you, and have you take out his enemy during the deal. “Come along, princess, we don’t have all night.”

The drive was nearly silent, sandwiched between Oikawa and Iwaizumi. You were his precious gem, his special girl, his hidden tool, compliments he had showered you with in the past days. When the car stopped outside the venue, you could feel warm fingers intertwining with your own, a squeeze following. “Just wait for my cue, cutie, then a bullet to the head. Do a good job for me, and we’ll get you out of that stuffy room.”

Heart beating fast in your chest, you allow him to help you out, knowing how the evening would progress. Mingling, staying glued to his side, looking pretty. Inside and outside of Seijoh were bound to be the same, and the least you could do was behave. If Oikawa was playing nice, you would as well. Being led around while nursing various drinks and small appetizers was relaxing, only required to give a smile and accept the occasional kiss or dip of fingers underneath the dress slit from Oikawa. A tease, but no one noticed, or they didn’t dare to say anything to him. Fear and tension were in the air, but for unspoken reasons.

By the time Ushijima shows up, you were escorted away, as Oikawa claimed that their talks weren’t suited for ladies like you. Iwaizumi stands next to you, his presence both comforting and terrifying as you steady the shot. Your finger itches to pull the trigger, adrenaline already coursing through your body. So long without an assassination, without a task to complete, and it was coming to backfire. As Oikawa’s hand rises in the air, your finger moves to hover over the trigger, pulling as soon as his fist closes.

Bang. The smell of gunpowder and commotion follows the noise, your brain already guiding you through your old process. Wipe the gun down and get the hell out of there. Iwaizumi stops you before you could run, cocking his head towards the back. Even if you had shot him, the resentment must have passed by now. One of his hands rests firmly on your back, the other grabbing the gun, leading you away from the chaos and out into the fresh air.

You scramble to sit up on his bed as Oikawa finally arrives, blood spatters on his white shirt and a streak across his forehead. A smile graces your lips as he presses closer, the smell of blood strong as your lips meet. Sweet, gentle, until Oikawa got hungry, your hair spread along his sheets in an instant and his teeth nipping lightly at your lip.

“Good fucking girl, aren’t you?” The words make your heart flutter, the streak of blood in your vision for a moment as his lips move to suck on your exposed collarbone. Your head was heavy between the pleasure and the alcohol from before, soaking in the praise from Oikawa. “Took care of Ushiwaka for me. You’ll be mine forever, won’t you?”

You feel the fabric of the dress being bunched around your waist, a moan slipping from your lips as his fingertips tease your clit. “Yeah, yours forever.” You were too occupied in how his fingers danced over your clit, unable to see the smirk that graced his lips. Panties were pushed aside, fingers finally entering your wet cunt. Your hips bucked as his fingers thrusted brutally into your sweet spot, back arching and pussy tightening around them. “There, please Tooru, there!”

“Patience.” Oikawa would spend his entire night ruining you, learning every inch of your body, marking what belonged to him. You were of Seijoh now, and he had no intentions of ever giving you up. But he could give into your demands, feeling you were worthy of a reward. You did what he asked, his thumb rubbing your clit as his fingers continued to hit the spot that made your toes curl. He hums softly as you tighten around his fingers, slowing his pace to a gentle pumping and glancing at your fucked out face. “Not yet, darling.”

His hand is gentle over yours like always, guiding it to his clothed cock. You bite your lip, looking up at him with wide eyes. Expected, yes, but your thighs were still shaking and it was hard to focus when those fingers continued to work your cunt open.

“I love you, cutie. You’ll do it for me, won’t you?” Oikawa leans closer, letting his fingers curl up and his lips press against yours. He soaks up the cry that leaves your mouth, only pulling away when you begin to nod frantically.

Your hands undid his slacks, pushing them down enough. Maybe not a large cock, but intimidating enough in the tight underwear. “I’ll do it, Tooru. Anything for you.”

“That’s a good girl.” His fingers pull out of your cunt slowly, dragging along the dress to clean them. It was time to take matters into his own hand, fishing his cock out. “Don’t be a brat. We have forever together, cutie, you and me.”

[multiplefandomsblog]

Byakuya x inexperienced!reader pt.2(NSFW)

request; hi !! so to whoever wrote the Byakuya x inexperienced! reader um i-i ilysm TOT would it be alright to ask for a part 2 of it, maybe reader has more experience and is ready for whatever 'mAstEr' Byakuya has in store?? (and maybe m a y b e Byakuya loses control of himself bc his innocent reader has finally been corrupted— OKAY THANK YOU BYE

warnings; so muCH CORRUPTION KINK!!!, pet play, master kink, dom!Byakuya, begging, Byakuya neglects reader a tad, s&m, reader is kind of a brat(just a littttleeee bit), sex toys/vibrators, bondage(handcuffs), overstim, forced orgasm?, unedited, slight dumbification, reader has female parts and uses female pronouns and names, slight praise kink, manhandling, humiliation, begging, dacryphillia, light dark themes(lmfao) there’s like, no fluff at all.

note; phew! okay this one, im kinda kinda proud of- i even put together a small byakuya playlist to get into the mood hehehe, it surprisingly helped a lot! i got into the byakuya mind space zone :0 anyway, thank you sm for requesting and i hope you enjoy!

(also p.s. this is a second part to this so you don’t have to read that first, but it’d help? kinda? idk your choice broskis ;0)

word count; 1.4k 

•••••••

“Master.”

Byakuya’s shoulders tensed, fingers almost tearing the pages of his book as he heard your voice, seductive behind him. His eyebrow quirked up at the tone of your voice, a small barely noticeable smirk adorning his face. He could hear the neediness, seductiveness, submission from just the title you uttered out. Instead of moving his head behind him, he decided not to let his eagerness to look at your show. So instead, he pretended to keep reading his book, faking disinterest. Even though he heard the way you spoke, heard the way you spoke so needy for him, wasn’t enough for his insatiable hunger. 

So he decided he would tease you until you were sobbing for him, begging for him. You weren’t going to get what you want until Byakuya does first. Ah, the look of desperation on your face he still had engraved in his mind, he could feel his pants tighten slightly.

Pouting at his unresponsiveness, you swiftly made your way to the back of his chair, caressing your hand lightly against his shoulder. “Master, look at me.” You persisted, bending down to lean your chin on his shoulder, face next to his as you folding your abdomen over the shirt you were wearing. To clarify, his shirt, and just his shirt. He could recognize the white cotton material, and as much as he wanted a peek, his need to see you on your knees for him was much bigger. 

Instead of letting you see his eyes, his eyes full of lust and want, he focused them onto the page, glazing over the words, yet not quite registering them in his mind as you preoccupied it. “M-master why aren’t you…” You trailed off, gulping as the realization of what he wanted—or at least thought he wanted— dawned on you. Slowly getting on your knees, you sat on your heels in front of him, head bowed down to look at his shoes. “Is this what you wanted?” You peaked up to try and take a quick look at his face, a low whine rumbling in your throat as you saw Byakuya flip another page. 

“I-I’ll act like a dog for you..! R-ruff ruff! I-is this enough? P-please..! I don’t like it when y-you ignore me…” You huffed quietly underneath your breath, feeling little shame for the act you had just performed in front of your heir. Though you were upset Byakuya hadn’t even spared a glance to you, you would be lying if you said you didn’t love the humiliation; your panties had been soaked the moment Byakuya decided not to talk nor pay attention to you.

 “Master please, I n-need you.” he didn’t even need to say anything, and yet here you are, sitting on your knees and barking for him; convinced that this is what he wanted, not what you secretly needed. He wanted to laugh, he made you like this. He made you so corrupted, and he felt disgustingly proud of that fact. “Hm.” Deciding to throw you a bone, he closed his book and fixed his eyes on you, “You’re a good pup for me, no?” 

He reached down to tap your chin. Getting a bit eager, you rose up, straightening your thighs so they were vertical. Grabbing eagerly onto his thighs, you leaned your head into his touch, looking at him with an adoration that seemed impure. “Y-yes! Yes, I’m a good puppy. I’m such a good pup for you, only you!” Your doe eyes stared up at him loyally, making him growl underneath his breath. 

“Look at you, you weren’t even able to take it last time, and yet you’re still coming back to me for more? Will you even be able to handle what I’ll give you?” You opened your mouth to say you could in protest, yet Byakuya cruelly interrupted, “After last time? You could barely handle it.” There was a snarl painted across his cold face, and yet it only seemed to make you wetter. 

Even if he seemed like he was mocking you, you could still hear the softness in his voice as he trailed off. You detected his worry, and so you did your best to show him you could handle it. Your voice wavered, but you stood your ground, clutching whatever was left of your confidence tightly, “I’m not the same as before, master.” Not only did you Byakuya with your newfound confidence, but you surprised yourself as well. 

You didn’t even recognize your voice, but you didn’t care, it seemed to be working. Leaning and hovering over Byakuya’s slightly stunned figure, you challenged, “I’d be more worried if you could handle me.” Your hands gripped Byakuya’s knees as you used them to support your body that had been arched against him. Byakuya’s stunned expression only lasted so long as his face twisted into a snarl, before kissing you roughly, teeth clashing against his.

As he kissed you, he could feel your hands slipping slowly down the valley of his thighs, and so, he pulled away suddenly and leaned down, perching your stomach on his shoulder. Confused, you let out a “Mast-?”, before he stood up, your body being hurled up along with him as he walked with ease. 

Dropping your body on the mattress, Byakuya quickly searched his table for the handcuffs, sighing satisfied as he found them. Smiling widely, you held your wrists out for him, slightly startling but pleasing Byakuya. In a rare moment, he snorted, “Good girl. ...Though, you’ll soon regret that.“ Standing up from the bed after he tied you to the headboard, he searched his drawers once again, bringing out something pink this time.

Glancing side ways to see your terrified face, “Remember this?” Your eyes widened at the familiar toy he fiddled within his hand, your heart beating erratically fast. “You still think you can take it?” He hunched over your body, one hand supporting his body, and one hand holding the toy scarily close to your glistening cunt.

Waiting patiently, he watched your expression, searching for any type of hesitation, yet finding.. none?

Snarling at your persistent face, he tried teasing you, to scare you to say no, “We never got to see what this did, did we now?” He said through gritted teeth, testing you by pressing it against your hole, making your legs widen slightly from contact. He looked at you in disbelief, “You’re not even- Wow, you… you really are my little slut, aren’t you?” His smile, villain-like. Beaming up at him, you inhaled sharply in relief as he finally understood, “Uhuh! Ye-ssss!” Your jaw dropped, eyes rolling back in your head as you arched your back into the vibrations that Byakuya had turned on suddenly. 

“M-master, it feels really good..!” You felt like your brain was scattered, fuzzy as you lost yourself. What was your name again? Pet? It didn’t matter anyway, as your legs shook from your first orgasm. Feeling Byakuya press the toy harder against your clit, you arched your back on instinct, wailing out pleas. “Gonna cream, s-second timeee!” You whined, breathing sounding more like wheezing as your chest heaved from the overstimulation. Your drool trailing down your open mouth, and getting on his once clean dress shirt you wore.

Your eyes scrambled back up to look at your master, wanting to see his eyes you adored so much. Gasping and frantically looking around as you didn’t see him, “M-ma-!” You squirmed against the toy, panting for air as you felt it rub against your clit slightly. “Right here, baby.” 

Your face whipped towards the sound of his voice, eyes focused on him, though your vision was slightly blurred from the tears of pleasure and possibly desperation. Your gaze was intense, unblinking, yet the rest of your face was a fucked out mess, your body twitching and writhing without control as you still kept your eyes on him.

“Hhnng!” You didn’t want to take your eyes off him, but you couldn’t help it as your third orgasm came up, forcing you to scream into his pillows. “M-m-!” You sobbed out, unable to speak his name as moans and cries overlapped it. He could see your body twitch from the toy, squirming away from it as the oversensitivity eventually got to you.  

He swiftly got to action, yanking your twitching legs wide apart, pushing the toy deep inside your pussy instead of your clit. He sighed shakily as he saw how easy the toy slipped in, your screams sounding like music to his ears. He could feel you squirming against his iron-tight grip on your ankles.  “You said you could take anything. Am I wrong? So take it.” The sound of his voice scared you in all honesty, but you couldn’t seem to even focus your attention onto how dangerous he sounded, as you fell into yet another orgasm. 

[keigoslovebird]

Next Chapter

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader

Warnings: Manga spoilers!! Pregnancy and references to pregnancy, you have a child (obvi), aged up characters, breeding kink, negative self image (on Toshi’s part), references to alcohol, self deprecating language, very fluffy Daddy Toshi shenanigans

Genre: Fluff, smut

Word count: 8.3k

Author’s note: I had so much fun writing soft husband Toshi, if it isn’t obvious by the word count. I just want to rub his soft belly and tell him how much I love him. Hopefully you enjoy this as much as I did writing it!

Note: Flashbacks indicated by italics

Wakatoshi Ushijima has always been a man of few emotions and even fewer words, with just one thing on his mind—volleyball. 

Since he was a young child, he has always slept, eaten, breathed volleyball. Nothing came close to his fiery, burning passion for the sport, not that he had the time to care about anything else.

That all changed when he retired from professional volleyball at the ripe young age of thirty-one, the years of wear and tear on his body finally catching up to him. He knew it was time when the pain in his joints was so severe he could no longer keep up with his much younger teammates. It was a difficult, emotional decision, but he ultimately viewed it as passing the torch to the next generation of volleyball players.

The announcement of Wakatoshi’s retirement was met with great sadness from the sports community at the loss of such a talented, renowned player, but he left behind an exceptional legacy marked by achievements and historic wins. 

His final game with the Schweiden Adlers concluded in a symbolic victory, this chapter of his life drawing to a close the same way it began—with Wakatoshi as an indisputable champion. Every player, coach, and audience member rose from their seats, clapping and screaming words of encouragement. Each of his teammates got on their knees, lowering themselves to press their foreheads into the floor of the stadium, bowing in an ultimate show of respect. The sight of his peers, his coaches, the entire auditorium giving him such an impassioned send off made a heavy lump form in his throat that refused to go away, no matter how many times he tried to swallow it down. Tears pricked at his eyes but he didn’t want to cry, not in front of all of these people.

The dam broke when you sprinted across the court, wrapping yourself around him in a bone crushing hug.

“You did so well Toshi. I am so proud of you,” you praised through choked sobs, pressing your tear-stained face into his neck. Your watery eyes and trembling smile shattered whatever willpower he had, his own tears streaming down his face like a waterfall. All those late night practices away from you, the excruciating injuries, the heartbreaking losses, all led up to this moment. This was the last time the Super Ace would step foot on a volleyball court as a professional player, but all good things must come to an end. 

The screaming and clapping was so loud you could barely hear his quiet, trembling whisper of, “I love you.”

----

It took him awhile to adjust to what one would call a “normal” life, one that didn’t include daily flights from country to country or backbreaking practices that lasted from sunup to sundown. Sure he still went to the gym and practiced with the volleyball net strung up in your backyard, but it was nothing like his grueling schedule when he was a pro athlete. To make matters worse, the blinders he wore his entire life that blocked out anything but volleyball prevented him from finding any real hobbies of his own. This meant for the first few months, your husband followed you around the house like a lost puppy, just wanting to be a part of whatever you were doing.

You would be cooking dinner, some soup simmering on the stove, when Wakatoshi’s massive form would come up from behind you to shyly peek over your shoulder. 

“What’re you doing?” he wondered, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

You could feel a smile tugging at your lips at how cute he was being, getting used to domestic life, something you never really got to experience until now. Before, you would often be sleeping when he came home at night, and still be asleep when he left in the morning. “I’m just cooking, do you want to help me?” you asked, holding a knife out to him to cut some vegetables. He nodded silently as he took the knife from you. 

His chopping skills left much to be desired, but what could you really expect from a man who only ever held a volleyball?

Another time you were sitting on the couch, scrolling through Twitter on your phone. You could feel your husband staring so intensely you were afraid he’d pop a blood vessel in his head.

Looking up at him, you cleared your throat and asked, “Did you need something, Toshi?” You set your phone down and gave him a questioning look, hoping to solve whatever was troubling him.

He was pensive for a moment, his eyebrows scrunching as he figured out what he was trying to say. “No, I just… There’s nothing to do,” he answered finally.

You nearly burst out laughing at his concern for simply being bored, but you held it in. “Of course there’s something to do!” you exclaimed, “You can go on a walk, read a book, watch TV, or even just take a nap.”

His head tilted quizzically, unsure of what you were suggesting. “A… nap? Why would I sleep? It’s the middle of the afternoon,” he questioned, sounding like you had proposed he eat sand and not to take a quick snooze.

You chuckled and walked over to the chair he was sitting in, plopping yourself down into his lap. “Sometimes people sleep in the middle of the day because they’re tired, or just because they want to,” you clarified, “We can go take a nap right now if you would like.” 

Suddenly Wakatoshi stood up, causing you to squeak in surprise, his arms securely carrying you bridal style.

“W-what’re you doing!?” you squealed, panicked by your sudden lack of solid ground, slightly struggling in arms. 

He tilted his head again, reminiscent of a pet confused by its master’s orders. “We’re going to take a nap together, yes? I’m taking you to our room,” he said, jerking his head in the direction of your shared bedroom. 

You stopped squirming once you took in his words, your belly fluttering with affection. Sighing happily, you snuggled your face against his chest, giving him a simple “mhm” in response.

That day Wakatoshi took his first nap since he was six years old and to this day, he still swears he’s never had a more restful, peaceful sleep in his life.

Those instances happened less and less often as he figured out ways to occupy his time that didn’t involve volleyball. 

You adopted a dog, a commitment you didn’t want to make in the past due to both of your busy schedules, but your lives became a lot less hectic after Wakatoshi’s retirement. Your husband made it a daily ritual to take your puppy Leo out on a morning run, both of them returning tired and sweaty before promptly passing out for an hour. He took up a job at the local university to help coach their men’s volleyball team, deciding to try it out when the requests to lend his wisdom and skills kept coming in. Although, his favorite pastime now consists of him standing outside on the patio, beer in hand as he sweats over the flames of his fancy silver grill.

But perhaps the most significant change in your lives came in the form of your son, Hidetoshi. 

Much like your refusal to commit to taking care of a dog, neither of you wanted to have kids while your lifestyle was so unfit to raise a child. You didn’t mind making those compromises for your husband, having known the path he would take since you started dating in high school. Frankly, you didn’t mind not having children at all, so it surprised you when he was the one to broach the subject. 

“What if we did?” he inquired under the darkness of your bedroom.

You turned over to face him, reaching up to gently stroke his cheek. “What if we did what, my love?” you murmured.

His eyes flitted across your face with an uncharacteristic nervousness. “What if we decided to have a child?” The shock on your face made his stomach churn uncomfortably and he almost regretted saying anything at all, but his fears quickly vanished as your expression melted into a soft smile.

“We’d have to talk about it more but I’d love to have your children, Wakatoshi Ushijima.”

You had a deep, lengthy conversation about your wants, needs, plans for the future, and whether or not a kid would fit into them. Once all of your cards were on the table you decided to start trying to get pregnant, a mission that your husband took very seriously.

Even as a teenager Wakatoshi’s sex drive wasn’t very high, and his frequent absence and exhaustion in his adult life made it somewhat difficult for you to have sex often. You made up for it where you could, having phone sex and masturbating together over FaceTime, once you convinced him to do it. When he was bewildered as to why you would suggest such a salacious act, you explained you were a grown woman with needs and if he wasn’t there to take care of them, he’d have to help you in other ways. Once he realized how serious you were, he agreed. 

But your husband as a young adult and your husband post-retirement are almost two  completely different people in regards to sex. He has seemingly unlimited reserves of stamina, built up over years of rigorous, intense training, and he no longer had an outlet to expend them. So, his new outlet to test his endurance became you and your body.

He began fucking you every chance he got with the vigor and gusto of a hormonal teenager, seeking to make up for lost time. He asked for sex at all hours of the day, waking you up in the middle of the night with the insistent prodding of his arousal and lazily thrusting between your thighs in the early hours of the morning before you had to leave for work. He fucked you in every room in your house and on every surface—on the dining room table, in the shower, on the living room floor, and even on your back patio when you both got a little too drunk on some cheap rose. 

You welcomed Wakatoshi’s insatiable hunger with open arms, unable to resist your strong, ridiculously handsome husband, but that, coupled with his seemingly limitless stamina, spelled trouble for your muscles and pelvis. In the first year after his departure from professional sports you had to call in sick to work seven times, too tired to function, too bruised to look presentable, and too sore to walk to the bathroom. At first he felt guilty for fucking you out of commission, but the way you begged him so sweetly to pound your needy, gushing cunt deeper, harder, faster and how you whimpered with delight when he bit bruises down your throat, he didn’t feel that bad. A baser, more primal part of Wakatoshi’s brain purred at his marks covering our body and relished in the way you limped. You were just too tempting, too irresistible not to ravage you every chance he got.

After you agreed to start trying for a baby, your partner’s already voracious sexual appetite became downright menacing now that he had a goal to strive for. 

“Gonna breed you, gonna fill you so full with my cum and knock you up,” he grunted as he battered into your sore, dripping hole, your body folded in half in a mating press.

“P-please Toshi! Ah~ please,” you babbled, nonsensical and uncertain what you were even asking for. He had been fucking you for so long everything was muddled into a singular dreamy, intangible haze of pleasure and ecstasy. 

Wakatoshi gave your clit a slap, hard enough to make you cry out. “Please what? Please breed you like a bitch in heat? Please stuff you full with my cum?” He leaned down to wrap his fingers around your throat, squeezing with enough force to make your head swim and forcing you to look into his wild olive eyes. “Well, what is it?” he demanded.

“W-want you to b-ah! Want you to breed mee,” you slurred, too drunk on the delicious feeling of his cock dragging against your pulsing walls to form a more coherent sentence.

His thrusts grew sloppy and uncoordinated with his impending orgasm. “G-gonna give you what you want, you cock hungry slut, I’m—” He came with a choked, shuddering groan, his warm cum flooding your awaiting womb.

You were both basking in the afterglow, exhausted and soaked in sweat and your combined fluids, when you noticed the furious blush spreading across your husband’s cheeks. “I apologize for what I said during sex. I… I don’t know what came over me,” he confessed, giving your shoulder a remorseful squeeze.

Giggling, you leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “Don’t be sorry. I really enjoyed it,” you proclaimed, “I love it when you get rough with me.”

Trying to get you pregnant gave your husband a new goal to strive for and he has never been one to do anything with less than his all.

Thanks to your husband’s dedicated efforts, you got pregnant six months after you started trying, to your shared elation and delight. Those two little lines filled you with as much excitement as they made you anxious, but as long as Wakatoshi was by your side, everything would be okay. 

Seeing your little bundle of joy in a 3D ultrasound changed you, changed Wakatoshi forever. Up until then you had only seen him as a colorless little blur on a computer screen, but getting to watch his precious face scrunch and his chubby legs kick reminded you that he was a real living being. The late night sprints to the bathroom, horrible morning sickness, and miserably aching back were all worth it when you were able to hold Hidetoshi for the first time. With his olive eyes, brown hair and chubby cheeks, he was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen and to this day he still is. 

Taking after his father from the start, Hidetoshi was a happy baby that rarely fussed or cried, not that you complained. He slept soundly through most nights, so soundly you slept in a chair by his crib for the first month to periodically check he was still breathing, despite your husband’s insistence the baby would be fine. Your mother-in-law had insisted that you and Wakatoshi would be exhausted for the first several months after the birth. Imagine her surprised when you and Wakatoshi looked just as well-rested as usual, better even, since you no longer had to deal with pregnancy. Many people, relatives and strangers alike, were astounded at how charming and polite your son was, even as a newborn. He was happy to just sit and play with his toys as you had lunch, smiling and waving at everyone who passed by.

A man as attractive as your husband with a boy as sweet as your son meant that, much to your irritation, women were tripping over themselves to flirt with him. To make matters worse, Wakatoshi picked up your son alone most days due to your office job preventing you from leaving early enough to go with him. This meant many of the moms at Hidetoshi’s school thought your husband was single and they weren’t shy in their pursuit.

A crowd of women surrounded Wakatoshi as he waited for school to end so your son would come running out with his arms spread wide, confident his daddy would always catch him. Most of the moms simply stared at your husband with dreamy looks in their eyes, attempting to make small talk with him.

One especially bold mother reached out and stroked his bicep, slightly squeezing to get a feel for his muscles. “My my Ushijima, you’re so handsome and strong,” she purred, batting her eyelashes at him.

“My wife thinks so as well,” he grunted as he gently but firmly removed his arm from her grasp. 

The woman looked as if he had slapped her across the face and cursed her family. “Y-you’re married? But you don’t even have a wedding ring!” she spluttered, “If you have a wife then where is she everyday?” 

“I do have a ring. I just don’t wear it on my finger because I’m afraid of losing it,” he clarified, lightly tugging on the chain around his neck for emphasis, his ring clinking softly against the metal. “I’m happily married to my wife who cannot be here because she is hard at work providing for our family. Do not disrespect my wife or my marriage again or we will have a problem.”

After that the other moms kept their distance, choosing to admire Wakatoshi from afar. It did not, however, stop them from staring with envy on the rare occasion you came with him to pick up your child, glowering at you with an intensity that surely wished you would drop dead. Your husband paid them no mind and neither did you because at the end of the day, you’re the one he chose to marry and have a child with. They can all flirts and look as much as they want, but they’ll never have him like you do.

----

Fast forward to present day, Wakatoshi is seven years into his retirement at the age of thirty-eight and Hidetoshi is now six.

Your husband is an assistant coach part time for the men’s volleyball team at an up and coming university, the rest of his time divided between you and taking care of your son. Hidetoshi just started kindergarten, growing far too fast for your liking. He seems to have gotten a double dose of his father’s genes as he’s already several inches taller than his classmates, though you can tell by the way he smiles and the slope of his nose that he’s yours as well. He’s the perfect combination of both of you—he has Wakatoshi’s tenacity, work ethic, and confidence and your sense of humor, intelligence, and empathy. He continues to amaze you every single day and you nor your husband couldn’t imagine a boy more wonderful than him. 

These days your lives are a lot less busy than they were when your husband was still a pro, but sometimes it doesn’t feel that way. With all the playdates, school functions, and parent-teacher conferences combined with your own job, Wakatoshi’s games, and regular house chores, sometimes it feels like you’re right back where you were ten years ago. This time, however, you have your incredible husband and son helping you and you wouldn’t trade your life for anything, no matter how hectic it may be.

Today is Saturday, it’s the weekend, and you’re only awake because of the bright sunlight that’s streaming through your bedroom window and hitting you directly in the face. You rub the sleep out of your eyes with the back of your hand, yawning loudly as you stretch your tired limbs. As soon as you try to get out of bed Wakatoshi’s arm around your waist tightens, pulling you flush against his solid, muscular chest. 

“Don’t leave. Don’t need to be anywhere,” he mumbles into his pillow, voice even deeper and raspier with sleep. His legs entangle themselves with your own so you’re completely enveloped in the warm, comforting embrace of your husband.

“Need to start getting ready for the party,” you sigh drowsily, but make no efforts to remove yourself from his sleepy but surprisingly strong clutches.

“Not yet,” he says simply, and that’s when you realize when he’s doing. He’s slowly, lazily grinding his morning wood on the soft curve of your ass. You’re a little more awake now.

“Oh I see what this is about,” you chuckle, wiggling yourself against him teasingly. 

He groans quietly under his breath, but you can feel the sound rumble in his chest. “Want you,” he says, still groggy from just barely waking up. His fingers find the hem of your shirt and he slips them underneath it, trailing his digits lightly down your stomach, making you shiver.

“Little man will be up soon,” you halfheartedly protest, but you can feel the warmth pooling between your legs.

“He’s not up yet, we have time.” The movements of his hips become more insistent, more demanding and you have to stifle your mewls behind your hand. Wakatoshi easily maneuvers his hand into the waistband of your panties, making a satisfied hum when he discovers you’re already dripping for him.

You’re still resisting, though it’s weak and feeble. The list of all the preparations you have to make for the barbecue still manage to just barely cut through your sleepy arousal. “We have so much to d—ahh~” You try to sound firm, but it just comes out as a breathy moan when he begins rubbing your swollen clit. 

He uses his other hand to push up your shirt that’s actually his shirt, tracing small circles around your nipples with his rough fingertips. You try to push your hips into his hand in hopes to gain more friction, but his arms keep you locked in place. 

“No need to rush. Let’s just enjoy this,” he insists, but the finger massaging your bud gets faster, knowing just how to make you whine after all the time he’s had to learn your body. He pinches one of your nipples between two fingers and squeezes with just enough force to make you gasp.

His erection has gotten even harder at the sound of your mewls and whimpers, hot and achingly hard against your ass and your cunt clenches in anticipation. Your slick is dripping out of you in thick, syrupy strings that makes your thighs sticky, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Please Toshi, need you,” you beg, desperate for your husband to stuff you full just as he’s done so many times before.

Wakatoshi doesn’t respond, opting to push his pants and underwear down to his knees and you almost sigh in relief, just needing to satisfy the desire that’s threatening to burn you from the inside out. You’re so hot you feel like you’re burning and you throw the comforter off of you to try to escape the heat. He removes the hand that was in your panties, instead using it to rub his hard length along your slick folds. You’re keening and so so needy, gasping each time the head catches on the tight ring of muscle around your entrance. 

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he grits out, barely able to control himself.

Your breath is coming in short, uneven pants as you try to sink yourself down onto him. “I love you so much I...”

That’s the moment when he sheaths his entire cock inside you in a singular fluid movement. You let out a strangled moan, relishing in the familiar burning as you stretch to accommodate how thick he is.  Your pussy clamps down on him like a vice, molding perfectly around his length.

“It’s like you were made for me, made to take me,” Wakatoshi growls, sending another wave of arousal rippling through your body. He stays still for a moment, breathing deeply because he doesn’t want to cum and have this end so soon.

He starts moving his hips, thrusting slow and deep to reach the spongy spot inside you that makes you scream. The hand on your breast reaches around to grab your throat, stifling your moans into small, stuttering gasps. You whine each time he shoves himself deep inside you, his cock dragging deliciously against your spongy walls.

You stay like that for a while, bodies joined in the most intimate of ways as Wakatoshi moves his hips in leisurely, unhurried strokes. Your body is hot, sweaty, thrumming with the pleasure that’s so overwhelming all you can focus on is the intoxicating feeling of your husband’s cock deep inside you. The tightening in your core signals your impending orgasm, but each time you get close to the edge, it escapes your grasp over and over again. You need him to pound into you faster, harder. You need more.

“Toshi please, I-I need,” you manage to stammer out, but your words are stolen from your throat as he sharply thrusts as deep as he can, the tip of his cock smashing against your cervix with just the right amount of pressure. 

“Don’t worry. I know just what you need.”

Wakatoshi is fucking you with so much force that your eyes are rolling back in your head, and all you can hear is the wet slapping sound each time he’s sucked back into your wet heat. He’s close, you can tell by the breathy groans he’s making, but so are you. You clench and spasm around him, growing impossibly tighter and bringing both of you closer to climax. His merciless pounding of your insides just gets faster and rougher, and his other hand moves down to rub your clit in tight, fast circles. 

The pleasure that clouds your senses is overwhelming, just dancing on the edge between pleasure and pain and your body can’t take it anymore. Your vision goes white as you cum, cunt clamping down so hard Wakatoshi can barely move. You clamp a hand over your mouth to keep from screaming, your body shaking and trembling as you gush around him. The endless clenching of your muscles practically milks his orgasm out of him, a stifled groan leaving his lips as his thick, hot cum coats your insides. All you can do is moan softly in appreciation, too incoherent to say anything else. 

Your husband presses a kiss to your sweaty neck. “Are you okay?” he asks, taking in the sight of your limp, spent body. 

You haven’t caught your breath yet and your lips won’t form proper words, so you make the only noise you can, “Mmfmm.”

You whine as he slowly pulls out his softening length with an audible pop, sensitive cunt spasming at the slightest stimulation. He untangles himself from you and you want to reach out for him, but you’re too boneless to even attempt to do anything yet.

As Wakatoshi gets out of bed to get a warm washcloth, you hear the familiar sound of little footsteps making their way towards your room and you shoot up in bed, fully alert. You quickly pull the covers over your body, just in time for Hidetoshi to come bounding in.

“G’morning Mama! Where’s Daddy?” he wonders, his little head poking around the corner.

Your husband comes out of the bathroom, now fully dressed and washcloth in hand. “I’m right here, Hidetoshi.” The boy runs straight towards his father who picks him up effortlessly, swinging him around in the air as he squeals with delight. “Did you sleep well?”

Hide bobs his head enthusiastically, “Mhm! I had a dream I was a professional volleyball player just like you.” 

Your loud, exaggerated sigh draws both sets of olive eyes to you, but you train your gaze on your husband. “Have you been putting ideas in his head?”

Wakatoshi shakes his head no, but the child in his arms pipes up first, “Daddy has been showing me videos of his old matches from when he was with the Schwimmy Addles.” Your husband makes a noise of surprise, a guilty look on his face now that he’s been found out.

“You two are going to be my undoing, I swear,” you chuckle as you flop back into the fluffy pillows.

Hide squirms in his father’s arms, reaching out to you, but the man recognizes the warning look in your eyes and tightens his arms around him. “We should let Mama finish waking up first. Why don’t we go downstairs and make breakfast?” he asks, tickling his sides.

The boy shrieks with laughter and wriggles even harder in Wakatoshi’s arms. “F-fine Daddy! Stooop it!” Your husband stops his tickling and hoists your son over his shoulder, gently patting his back.

He passes the washcloth to Hide. “Why don’t you give this to your mama? Then we can go have something to eat.” 

Hide uses his little arms to hold the cloth out to you and you take it from him, nodding with gratitude. “Thank you sweetie, now go with your daddy.”

Your husband starts walking towards the door as a small, chubby hand waves bye to you and you blow kisses to them as they disappear into the hallway.

Using the washcloth, you clean the mess between your legs and muster the monumental effort it takes to get out of bed. You begrudgingly walk over to your dresser to put on clean pajamas and brush your hair so you’re presentable for a meal with your family. The sound of the fire alarm going off has you racing downstairs to the kitchen where Wakatoshi and your son should be.

As you slide into the kitchen and almost fall on the slippery hardwood in your haste, you realize your panic was for nothing. There’s a pan on the stove, grey smoke billowing out of it. Upon further inspection you discern that it’s eggs, you think, that are simultaneously under and overcooked. The guilty parties are sitting at the kitchen table a few feet away, a jug of milk and a couple of boxes of cereal surrounding them. Hide is shoveling spoonfuls of Cheerios into his mouth as your husband eats his own breakfast, only slightly neater in his approach.

“So… you tried to cook?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow at the large man chewing his Wheat Chex. He looks over at you and nods, mouth full with milk and cereal. “I’m guessing it didn’t go very well, judging by all the smoke,” you say slowly. Your husband simply shakes his head no, unbothered by the fact that he nearly gave you a heart attack.

Deciding it’s not worth the argument or the work to make a proper breakfast, you sit down next to Hide and pour yourself a bowl of Cheerios. He smiles at you, mouth open and full of disgusting half-chewed food, but you still return his beaming grin and ruffle his hair. The both of them are troublemakers in their own ways, but they’re your troublemakers nonetheless.

After you’ve all eaten breakfast, you lay a notepad in front of them that has a list of all the things you have to do before your guests arrive for the barbecue. 

You’re standing between them, pointing at each task on the list. “I still have to sweep and vacuum the house, Toshi you need to go to the store and buy all the food, and Hide you need to pick up all your toys that are in the backyard. We have a lot to do today and everyone has to do their part, okay?” you urge, looking between the males on either side of you and they both nod emphatically.

With everyone so busy, it’s difficult to find weekends where they’re all available so this get together has been planned for months. You’ll all be seeing friends and loved ones you haven’t seen in a long time, and it’s a team effort to make sure everything is ready for tonight. 

----

You finish all of the tasks on time, with an hour to spare thanks to your joint efforts. 

Hide is playing in his room while you and your husband get dressed and ready for what will likely be a long night of socializing and entertaining.

As you’re doing your makeup and getting ready for the party, you notice Wakatoshi staring at himself in the mirror, shirtless. His brows are furrowed, a deep frown on his face as he scrutinizes his reflection. He pinches his belly with both hands, scowling at the softness that used to be hard muscle. Tracing a finger along the stretch marks on his stomach and arms, he sighs heavily.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” you ask from the bathroom. 

Your husband walks over to lean against the wall behind you, his unreadable expression reflected in the bathroom mirror. He hesitates before answering, “I’ve let myself go.”

You set your mascara down on the counter and spin around to face him. “Wakatoshi, what in the world are you talking about?”

“I just said what. I heard a couple of my players say that I’m not as strong or as fast as I was when I was a professional.”

You loosely wrap your arms around his torso, squeezing gently. “Of course you’re not what you used to be, Toshi.” At the sight of his deepening frown you quickly add, “You’re so busy being a father, husband, and coach you don’t have the time to work out like you used to.” Getting on your tippy toes, you press a kiss to his nose, “And that’s okay.” It’s a rare occasion that he looks this vulnerable. His anxiety and self-consciousness are so clearly written in his features and it makes your heart ache for him. 

“It doesn’t bother you that I don’t look like that anymore?” he asks, pointing at the framed photo of his first win with the Japan National Team that hangs on the wall.

“Why would it bother me? This is the body races my son across our backyard, helps me fix our home we bought together, and makes love to me every night. I love you just as much as I did back then, and even more now that we have Hide,” you reassure him and you mean every word of it. Sure he’s not the most romantic of husbands, but he’s your husband and you love him just the way he is, with or without muscles.

A smile tugs at the corners of his lips and he squeezes you even tighter to him. “I know I probably don’t say this as much as I should, but I love you.”

You pepper kisses all over his eyelids, lips and nose. “And I love you more than anything, Wakatoshi. More than you will ever know.”

Your hands lovingly caress his chest that’s softer now, but still sturdy and muscular, and his arms that are not as lean anymore, but are still just as powerful and capable. “For the record, I love how soft you are these days. It’s great cushioning for when we cuddle.”

“Hidetoshi says the same thing,” he recalls, smiling at the thought of your beloved son.

After giving him a knowing look, you go back to putting on your makeup. “See? I told you. That boy is just as smart as his mother.”

It’s nearing five o’clock so Wakatoshi goes to the backyard to start grilling the food for everyone, while you and Hide finish plating the fruits and vegetables you prepared earlier.

You work in comfortable silence until your son turns to you, his eyes shining with unanswered questions. “Hey Mama?”

Putting down the strawberry you were holding, you sit down on the stool next to him and hold his hands in yours. “What’s on your mind, sweetie?”

“Do you not want me to be a volleyball player like Daddy? Is that why you got mad when I told you he showed me the videos?” 

You almost break your neck with how fast you shake your head in denial. “Of course not! I wasn’t mad, it’s just…” you start, trying to find a way to phrase your thoughts that he’ll understand. “Daddy’s job was very hard. His body still hurts a lot from all the times he got injured when he played volleyball. And… his job took him away from me and I missed him a whole lot.”

The look on his face is so reminiscent of his father, it’s like young Wakatoshi was frozen in time and plopped into the chair right next to you. With the way his eyebrows are scrunched up and his mouth is downturned as he thinks, he really is the spitting image of your husband. “Did it make you sad?”

Taking a deep breath, you hold your arms out to him so he can climb into your lap. “Sometimes it did. Mostly at night when I was all alone and Daddy was really far away.”

He rests his head against your shoulder, looking up at you. “Do you wish Daddy had a different job?”

You look out the window at your husband who’s starting up the grill, then look back at the sweet, round face of your boy. “No, I don’t. Daddy’s job was really important to him and it made him so happy that I grew to love it too, even if it made me sad sometimes.”

He sits up in your lap, thinking hard about what you said as he plays with your necklace. “Does Daddy still wish he could do it?”

“Probably, but it’s okay. If he hadn’t stopped, we wouldn’t have you, and you make our lives so much brighter and happier. Your Daddy and I love you so much, you couldn’t even imagine it.”

He spreads his arms out as far as he can. “This much?”

You shake your head. “Nope. Even more.”

“Wow, that’s a lot.” Hide’s eyes are wide with surprise, mouth slightly agape as he tries to imagine something so large and vast.

Laughing, you press a kiss to his head. “It sure is a lot, baby. Now why don’t we finish putting out all the food so we can go see what Daddy’s doing?”

Your son leaps out of your lap to grab handfuls of grapes and blueberries from the cartons on the counter, dropping them into the divided sections of the serving platter. “Aren’t you going to help me, Mama?”

You give him a look of mock offense before standing ramrod straight, giving him a mock salute. “As you command, Commander Ushijima.”

You carry both trays of food out to the backyard, not trusting Hide’s ability to hold them upright, while he carries a volleyball in his arms. Wakatoshi turns at the sound of footsteps, a small smile on his face as your son drops the volleyball, barreling straight into his legs with a force that makes the man grunt.

Hide looks up at his father, both arms wrapped around his legs. “Whatcha doing Daddy?” he asks.

Your husband reaches a hand down to ruffle his hair, a slight look of pain in his eyes from the boy slamming into his shins. “I’m just getting ready to start cooking the food for tonight. Do you want to help me?” He bends down to pick him up and Hide quickly hops into his arms, well practiced and effortless with how strong your husband is. The man points to different parts of the grill, explaining what they do, taking care to keep the boy far away from the flames. 

Setting the plates down on the table, you inform Wakatoshi, “Hajime and Tooru should be here soon, so should Tobio and Eita. Satori called and said he might be late, something about his luggage getting lost.” At that moment the doorbell rings, signaling your first guests are here. “I’ll get it. You two stay here and get the food on the grill.”

You open the front door, greeted with the familiar faces of Hajime and Tooru. “It’s so nice to see you two! Come on inside, don’t be shy,” stepping aside, you hold your arm out to welcome them into your home. 

“Mrs. Ushijima you get more and more beautiful each time I see you,” Tooru teases as you snicker in response.

“I see marriage hasn’t changed you at all, has it?” you question, more so directed at Hajime. 

“I tell him people are going to get the wrong idea,” the shorter man replies, sounding exasperated.

You usher them towards the backyard before picking up various soda and beer cans. “Wakatoshi and Hide are both in the back. You two go ahead and keep them company while I bring these out.”

It takes a few trips before you join them in the backyard, handing each adult a can and a juice pouch to Hide, who’s sitting at the picnic table with Tooru while Hajime chats with your husband. 

“How old are you now, little man?” the brunette asks.

Hide holds up five fingers plus his thumb as he swings his legs back and forth. “I’m six! I just started kindergarten.”

They both wave at you as you join them, sitting on the other side of the table. Tooru leans in towards you, a hand cupped around his mouth, and you tilt your ear towards him. “He’s so… polite and well-mannered. Are you sure Ushiwaka is the father?” he whispers, narrowing his eyes.

You lightly smack his head, glaring daggers in his direction. “Yes, obviously. Look at them, they’re basically twins.” Tooru looks at the boy sitting next to him then at your husband standing at the grill, then back to your son, then back to your husband. Hand on his chin, he takes in their matching olive eyes and hair and similar expressions, nodding seriously.

“I was just making sure.”

The doorbell rings a couple more times, Tobio and Eita arriving one right after the other. With almost all of your guests present, everyone is drinking and catching up, some casually passing a volleyball back and forth with Hide.

You’re in the middle of telling Tobio that Hidetoshi is too young to be thinking about his future career when the doorbell rings once more, indicating the last of your guests has arrived. You rush inside to get it, not bothering to check who’s there because you already know who it is. Swinging the door open, you pull the man into a tight hug. 

“Satori! We’re so glad you made it,” you exclaim, giving his back a few hard slaps.

The redhead pulls away from you, smiling. “I’m so glad I was able to make it in time. The airport lost my luggage, then my parents forgot to leave me a key to their house so I had to wait until a neighbor could let me in. To make matters worse, I got stopped by security when I landed because of this,” he says, holding up a white box with a bow around it.

You quickly grab the box, shaking it to try to hear what’s inside and sniffing it for good measure. “Ooh la la, did you bring us some fancy French chocolates?” you ask. “Actually, don’t tell me, Hide will want to open it.” You hand the box back to him and gesture him to follow you, “Everyone’s in the back so just follow me.”

With Satori in tow, you step onto the back porch and call your son’s name. He hands the ball to Eita before running over, eyes lighting up when he sees the man standing next to you.

“Uncle Tori!” he shouts, launching himself into Satori’s arms.

“Hey there Little Toshi, how you been? Keeping your dad out of trouble?” he asks, hugging the boy tightly.

“I think so! Well… we burnt some eggs this morning and the smoke machines started beeping, but that doesn’t count, right?”

The red-haired man waves his hand dismissively. “Of course it doesn’t. Any crimes committed in the name of breakfast are excused,” he insists. Pulling the box out from behind his back, he offers it to Hide. “I brought you something all the way from France, do you know where France is?”

Hide takes the present from him, “Yeah, it’s in Europe! Daddy showed it to me on a map.” He struggles a bit with the bow before he decides to just rip it off, lifting up the lid.

Satori points to the various chocolates laid on top of wax paper. “This one is filled with something called ‘ganache,’ which is basically just more chocolate, but it’s liquidy. That one over there has caramel, and the one right next to it is a bonbon filled with strawberry jelly. I picked all the best ones just for you.”

The boy smiles, eyes wandering over the chocolates like they’re bars of gold. “Thank you Uncle Tori! I bet they’re really yummy.”

He pats Hide on the head. “I hope you enjoy them lots. Now I gotta go say hi to your daddy, where is he?” Your son points to where Wakatoshi is standing at the grill, a spatula in one hand and a beer in the other as he chats with Tobio. “Thanks Little Toshi,” he says, ruffling his hair.

Satori walks over to your husband, pulling him into a crushing bear hug before he can say anything. “Wakatoshi, it’s been too long! I sure get lonely all the way in France, have you guys ever thought about moving?”

Wakatoshi freezes for a moment before giving in, hugging the man back, though slightly stiff in his movements. “We will not be moving to France. Hidetoshi will be raised here in Japan.”

The redhead releases him, sensing his discomfort. “Well, it was worth a shot. How’s your retirement? You miss being a pro?”

“I do miss it sometimes, but it was necessary to let a better, younger player take my place. I wouldn’t trade a few more years on the court for the life I have now with my wife and my son.” 

 Satori lets out a loud whistle. “I never thought I would hear the day that Wakatoshi Ushijima would say he cares about anything more than volleyball.”

“Volleyball was my entire life before, but they’re my entire world.”

The shorter man just smiles, silent for a moment before pointing to the apron your husband is wearing. “I didn’t think you’d actually wear that thing, Wakatoshi!” The apron black with bright red lettering that says ‘Wakatoshi: Grill Master,’ with a drawing of a flaming steak next to it.

“It keeps my clothes clean. Why wouldn’t I wear it?” he asks, genuinely curious. The redhead just laughs and shakes his head, patting him on the shoulder.

Your husband finishes grilling the food, much to the excitement and relief of the many hungry men who have been circling him like a hawk. Everyone takes from the piles of meat and vegetables, noticeably happier now that their stomachs are full. You’re all sitting around the picnic table, laughing and enjoying each other’s company.

Hajime recalls a story from when he first signed on as the athletic trainer for the national team. Wakatoshi had approached him after practice, saying he had a serious issue that he wanted someone to take a look at. Concerned for his player’s wellbeing, naturally he took him into the locker room and Wakatoshi took off his shirt. At first, he thought he might’ve stretched one of his ligaments too far or had even torn his rotator cuff muscle. Imagine his surprise when Wakatoshi pointed to an ingrown hair on his back, saying it was inflamed and causing him pain. It was then that Hajime had to explain that he’s not that type of medical professional, and that he should make an appointment with a dermatologist.

 The sun starts to set, but with the fun everyone is having they barely notice. The night begins to wind down once Hide yawns, rubbing his eyes tiredly, and it sets off a chain reaction of yawning that reaches every person at the table. Your son starts tugging on your sleeve, informing you he’d like to go to bed. Not wanting to leave him alone in the house and taking note of the exhaustion on everyone’s faces, you politely suggest to end the night early. A chorus of heads bob, indicating their desire to head home and sleep. 

All three of you hug and kiss everyone goodbye, waving to them as they drive away. You sigh from exhaustion and head inside to put Hide in bed. You and your husband hold each of his hands and take him to his room, pulling back his covers so he can climb in. 

He yawns again and closes his eyes, settling into his bed. “Night night Mama, Daddy. I love you.” 

You stroke his cheek lovingly before placing a kiss on his forehead. “Goodnight sweetie, I love you too.”

Your husband comes up from behind you to kiss Hide as well. “Sleep well, Hidetoshi. I love you.”

With your son asleep in his own bed, all you have to do is take off your makeup and brush your teeth before you too can sleep. 

You’re in the middle of washing your face when Wakatoshi comes into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

“I enjoyed tonight, I hope you did too,” he says.

You turn around to look at him and smile. “I did, it was amazing to see everyone in one place. It’s been years since we were all able to see each other.” After you finish washing your face, you stretch and yawn loudly, telling your husband, “I’m getting in bed now, join me when you’re done.”

Climbing under the sheets, you nestle yourself into the softness of your bed. You nearly doze off right then, but the shifting of the bed under Wakatoshi’s weight keeps you awake just a bit longer.

He slides in behind you so he can spoon you, an arm slung over your waist. 

“Goodnight Toshi, I love you.”

“Goodnight, I love you too.”

Before he falls asleep, Wakatoshi thinks of all the things in his life that led him here, to you, his wonderful wife, and his precious son.

Leaving professional volleyball was one of the hardest decisions he’s ever had to make in his thirty-seven years of living, but the end of that chapter of his life gave him Hidetoshi.

He knows that every moment of uncertainty, suffering, and hardship was worth it because it ultimately led him to you and your son, to this life you’ve built together. 

He’d do it all over again a thousand times over if it meant that your beautiful, shining face would be there to greet him in the end.

[melissa-kenobi]

1: congrats on 300!!

2: may I request anything fluffy with Wolffe. Maybe some cuddling or taking a nap together?

Hiii Alyssa 💕

Hehe thank you so much sweetie!!! & yesss of course you can!! I live for soft, fluffy Wolffe, I absolutely adore this man (he is by far my favourite clone, I shouldn't have favs - I know, I'm sorry!!) Also I don't even know if this is fluff... 😑

"Wolffe?"

"Hmm..." The man in doubt let out a low hum of acknowledgement, eyes downcast on his holopad, reading through the thousands of reports that had happened in the past 2 weeks. The past two weeks, maker knows what the 104th had been upto for him to have gathered such a plethora of reports. Stuck in his own little world of reports, he had accidentally ignored what you were saying only to look up and see you stood infront of him, your arms crossed with a slight frown on your face.

Raising an eyebrow in disbelief, you snatched the holopad from Wolffe before locking it away.

"Y/N! What are you doing? I've got th-"

"I don't care. You've been at it the entire day, and I mean the entire day! Have you even had a look at the time?" You grumbled in annoyance, your boyfriend was tiring himself out, his armour was scruffly thrown on the chair, his usual styled hair was curling out in all sorts of places. But worst of all were the bags under his eyes. His cybernetic eye watched you carefully, while his normal golden brown eye watched you tiredly. You could see the exhaustion creeping up on him as he let out a deep sigh, rubbing his eyes harsly.

"Wolffe..."

"I know cyar'ika, I j-just need to finish these!" Wolffe protested as he got up from his seat, ready to get his holopad back before you stood infront of him and blocked his way with a hand on his chest.

"No."

Wolffe blinked back at you a few times. "What do you mean 'no'?"

"I mean no. You are not going back to that holopad for the next 8 hours at least." You guided him to the bed that was located on the left side, roughly pushing him to sit down. "Don't make me force you Wolffe."

"Y/N, cyare, you don't understand. I need to finish them. The General needs them for tomorrow." Wolffe sat up in bed, getting ready to stand once more.

"Maker help me, I swear to you Wolffe if you do not go to sleep right now, I will use the force to make sure you do." Before Wolffe could get another word in you cut him off. "And besides, I can talk to Master Plo about this."

Wolffe let out a little growl. "No. Do not talk to the General about this."

"I will if I have to." You retorted, standing your ground. Eyes glaring at his as you crossed your arms, a frown etched onto your face, ready to keep Wolffe in that bed at all costs.

"Cyare..." Wolffe spoke softly, his eyes tired as he watched you. You shook your head in reponse.

"Please Wolffe. Just for an hour or so, I can't- you look exhausted, hell you look worse than you did when you had your cybernetic eye done." You pleaded, cupping his tired face in your hands.

Wolffe gave you literal puppy dog eyes, and if you weren't such a stubborn woman, you would fallen for them. "Please cyare? For me?"

Wolffe let out a deep sigh, the minute you had touched his face he was a gonner, and then you had to go and use his words agsint himself. "Only if you stay with me..." He murmured in a small voice, looking down at your robes as he fiddled with them.

Your heart clenched in adoration for this beautiful man, he was still so shy with you after being together for a year or so. His fingers twiddling with your robes as you placed a soft kiss on his forehead. "Of course cyar'ika. Just let me get out of these robes and I'll join you."

Wolffe let out a little grin as your lips left his skin, and watched you quickly change out of your clothing before tucking yourself into his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you even closer to him as he snuggles into the crook of your neck.

"Y/N?"

"Mmhh..."

"Did you set the alarm?"

"Of course I did. We'll be up and ready before you know Wolffe." You whispered, leaning up to kiss his lips.

Little did Wolffe know you planned to let the man sleep til dusk.

***

Hours later, well 7 hours later to be exact, Wolffe had woken up. His eyes fluttered as he rubbed them, not feeling you beside he abruptly sat up, scanning the room for any sign of you. He saw your Jedi robes were still here, lightsaber too, but your brown cloak was gone, as were your boots.

Where on earth could she have gone?

Wolffe muttered to himself, he would have called out for you, commed you even but he didn't know where you were. Slowly but surely he pulled himself out of bed, tracing a hand over where your body laid with him, the mattress was still warm, so you couldn't have left that long ago.

Pulling on a shirt he slipped out from under the covers in search of his girlfriend only to open the door and bump straight into her.

"Y/N!" He yelped as he held onto your waist for stability, eyes frantic as he finally focused on who else was stood there. "General!"

"Commander. You look well rested, I'm glad you've been taking care of yourself." General Po commented as he took in Wolffe's dishevelled state.

"I-i er. I was jus-"

"Do not worry Wolffe, there is no need to explain yourself. I'm glad the reports have been done and on that note I will leave you to be."

"Padawan?"

"Yes Master?"

"Do not forget what I said." You nodded in response, a small smile curling onto your lips as Plo walked away. Wolffe guided you back into the room, sleepy eyes watching your every move as you took off your boots and joined him back in bed.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You asked, squeezing his cheeks before placing a soft kiss directly on his lips.

"What was the General doing outside? What did he mean by the reports are all done? Why did he question you?" Wolffe let out in one entire breath, softly grabbing your arms too look at him. "What have you done?"

You blinked rapidly before letting out a little giggle. "I've never heard you talk that fast before! Can you do it again?"

"Y/N."

"Don't worry about it Wolffe. It's sorted, and no I didn't tell him about the work piling up but I did mention that we have other people having their jobs for a reason." You smiled before lying down in bed and pulling the covers up to your chin, then covering your face.

"I- I don't- Why would you do that for me?" Wolffe asked as he climbed over you, settling his legs on either side of your body while he pulled the covers down from your face.

"Because I love you silly. And I don't like seeing you stressed." You smiled as he leaned forwards, placing his forehead against yours, his tanned hands cuping your face. "Plus you have this cute little wrinkle that appears in the middle of your eyebrows and it makes you look old."

Wolffe let out a small huff before rolling his eyes kissing you deeply. His lips against yours as he sweetly conveyed his love for you into his kiss. "I love you too cyare. So much. You have no idea how grateful I am for you."

"I know sweetheart. That's why Master Plo gave us the day off." You giggled. "We can finally spend some time together."

You swore you'd never seen Wolffe grin so hard before he flopped right onto your body, wrapping his arms around your waist as he lay on your chest.

"Thank you Y/N."

***

[goodwriterwithbadhabits]

Show Offs

Master List

~~

     To say your relationship was complicated was an understatement. Having seven partners often resulted in one of two things, either you all paired off for a semi calm moment, or every single person tried for one person’s attention, there were no exceptions. During those times, it was almost like a contest to see who their target would give the most attention to. Typically, everyone wanted JB’s attention, which made sense, cause he was probably the absolute best boyfriend, however today, it seemed everyone’s attention was on you. The only exception to this rule was when Mark wanted attention, he was always subtle about it, and it was usually only you or Jackson, even though he swore he liked everyone equally. 

Got7 was supposed to be rehearsing, and technically, they were, but between Yugyeom’s ridiculous amount of added body rolls, and Jinyoung and Youngjae seemingly having a high note battle, you were starting to get suspicious as to their intentions. When they sought Jay B’s attention, they were more direct, sitting on his lap, paying him compliments, and being on their best behaviors. 

“Ya! Jackson,” Mark huffs after the younger man’s third backflip, “You’re going to hurt yourself, stop.” Mark reprimands into his mic, which was wholly unnecessary seeing as Jackson was standing right next to him. 

“So he’s trying to show what a good hyung he is.” Jay B’s soft, but still sudden, voice makes you jump, not expecting him to be joining you in the audience. “Did I scare you?” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be rehearsing?” You ask, turning your attention back to the boys onstage, who were cheering on Yugyeom as he practiced his Lullaby dance break. You settle into Jay B’s side easily, letting him wrap an arm around your shoulders. 

“Watching them try to impress you is way too entertaining.” 

“Oh, but you’re not going to try?” You tease, glancing up to see him smirk at the comment. 

“I don’t need to impress you, baby.” Your heart flutters at his cockiness, but you still have to tease him for it. 

“Someone’s confident, how would you feel if I said I was going to sleep in Mark’s bed tonight?” He just shrugs, finally looking down at you. 

“I know you love all of us, me included, and when you want my attention specifically, or vice versa, we’re mature enough to tell each other directly.” You blink up at him for a moment, thoroughly impressed with his little speech. “Also good luck with sleeping with any one person tonight, it seems everyone really wants your attention.” He finally cracks a proper smile, which you mirror. 

“Speaking of, why is everyone showing off today?” Once again, you look back to the boys onstage. 

“Bambam, Mark, and Jackson are leaving for a while, heading home. Pretty sure they want you to come with.” 

“Then how come Jinyoung and Youngjae are as well?” 

“I’m not sure. I think they’re just trying to make sure you stay here.” 

“Ah,” You nod along, “Bamie hasn’t been showing off.” 

“Are you kidding? He’s wearing thigh high sparkly boots.” He laughs in disbelief that you hadn’t noticed. 

“Okay, but to be fair, that’s not very out of character for him. He’s like a peacock.” Jay B snorts at the comparison, making Jinyoung, who was taking a break on the edge of the stage look over at the two of you. “Is your mic on?” He doesn’t answer, just hands you the microphone and flicking on the switch when your voice doesn’t carry at first. “Hey boys.” You call, making the other 6 look over at you. Your face warms a little from the attention. 

“Hey baby!” Jackson cheers, earning a smack on the shoulder from Mark. Your giggle rings through the venue, which makes several of the boys grin as well, especially Jackson. 

“You know I love you all, and I love spending time with you, right?” They nod, and Yugyeom even shoots you a finger heart. “So you know that if you wanted to ask me to go on vacation with you, you just need to ask?” Bambam looks away, while Mark awkwardly rubs the back of his neck as his face tints pink. Jackson opens his mouth to ask you, but you hold up a hand to stop him. “But before you get your hopes up, I’m contracted to be here in Seoul for another three months, I can’t leave the country.” 

“Dammit.” Mark huffs. 

“Aww, that’s bullshit.”  Jackson whines, while Bambam just stomps his feet like a child having a tantrum. 

“Sorry boys.” 

“I’m going to die of a broken heart.” Jackson gasps dramatically, falling to the ground like a shakespearean actor. 

“Okay, babe. Lets leave the acting to Jinyoung, yeah?” Your teasing is met with a laugh from most of the boys and another dramatic gasp from Jackson. “I’ll make you a deal, if you finish your rehearsal with no more showboating, I’ll take you all out for samgyeopsal later.” This elicits a cheer from the group, and a laugh from you when Jackson jumps up to celebrate and blow you a kiss. 

“Then I suppose I should get back to work.” Jay B sighs, nudging you so he can sit up. “I’ll take that.” He steals the mic from your hand, making you pout slightly. 

“Honestly, I should have my own mic at this rate.” You joke, which makes him chuckle. 

“You really should.” He agrees, dipping down to leave a chaste kiss on your lips before heading towards the boys. 

“How come Y/n gets a kiss?” Yugyeom huffs as Jinyoung helps the older man back onto the stage. 

“They asked.” 

“Can I have a kiss?” Jackson pouts, sending puppy-dog eyes to his leader. Jay B smiles softly, gently cupping the younger boy's chin. 

“No.” 

[kaitycole]

Love Two: the hard love

Summary: Miya Atsumu is an adventure and a half which is exciting for you after a mundane high school relationship. But what price has to be paid in order for you to be in his world?

Parings: Atsumu x Reader

Word Count: 7187 (my apologies)

Warnings: Angst. Toxic relationship tropes. Toxic behaviors. Slight physical violence (towards the end - it’s a wrist grab and a slap). Adult language.

Rating: 16+

A/N: This series is based on an article that talks about how in live, most of us experience three types of love. I’ll link the article in the series master post for anyone who wants to read it!

Golden yellow hair.

Chocolate brown eyes.

Burnt cinnamon cologne.

These images burn into your mind as tears sting your dry eyes. You swallow hard, trying to get the lump in your throat to dislodge but it only reminds you of how dry your throat is, how sore it is from screaming. Your head lays heavy on your pillow, a dull ache wraps around your head and you aren’t sure if it’s from the alcohol or the crying you’ve done over the last three days.

You two had a fight, another fight, the same old fight. You screamed, he brushed it off, leaving in a rush and slamming the door while you slid down the doorframe, sobbing. You thought that you’d be used to this, the constant up and downs that came with loving Miya Atsumu, the rollercoaster of emotions that came with the cycle of being together, breaking up and then getting back together. You’d been doing it for three years now, on and off again, but never being off for long before he dragged you back into his arms, not that you ever refused.

Your head hangs to the side as you slowly push yourself off the floor, your body too tired after fighting to climb into your bed the night before. For a moment you consider crawling down the hall before your pride takes over as you stand up, legs stiff but wobbly at the same time as your feet drag you to the couch in the living room. You aren’t sure what time it is, your eyes slowly adjusting to the large amount of sunlight coming into the apartment, the apartment he surprised you with and you had loved, now it felt like a prison.

Your phone starts buzzing and when you look, there’s several notifications from your two best friends Kaneko Yua and Higashi Naoki. You shuffle to the kitchen, grabbing a cup as you perch your phone between your shoulder and cheek, filling you cup with tap water.

“Y/N! Where are you?” Yua’s voice is too loud for the linger ache in your head, you jerk the phone from your ear to turn the volume down.

You chug down the ice-cold water that does nothing to remove the dryness from your mouth or throat, it’s as if it’s been coated in a thick layer of cotton. “Apartment.”

She’s silent for a minute, you can hear her mumbling to someone next to her. There’s a muffled sound coming from her end before a new voice comes through the line, fresh tears prick your eyes when you recognize it’s Naoki.

“We’re coming over, don’t leave.”

*                      * Three years ago

Your high school days had been filled with volleyball matches, practices, tournaments and while you have no ill feelings towards the sport or the boy who brought it into your life, you just hoped university would broaden your horizons.

Yet here you stood at a MSBY Fan Greet, your younger brother all but vibrating with excitement as he waited to get his overprice photograph signed by his favorite team. You previously made plans to hang-out with Yua over the spring break, but since your parents both couldn’t take him, your brother guilted you with the  “but I miss hanging out with you” card and puppy dog eyes.

“For you.” His accent coats his words, passing you small folded piece of paper before your brother makes his way down the line to the next player for an autograph, tugging at your pants for you to follow his lead.

** “Wanna get something from the vending machine before the next class?” Yua asks. Kaneko Yua became your friend when you both started university last year, the two of you quickly became the best of friends even though the only interests you share is in your shared Art History major.

“I’m done for the day.” You tilt your head, smiling right before you stick your tongue out at her.

She throws her head back, groaning as you continue to walk, “how’d you get such a good schedule.”

“Told you to take those early morning classes.” You wink before running into her as she suddenly stops. “Yua-ch—”

Golden yellow hair and a cocky smile catch your attention as he leans against a flash sports car in the library parking lot. Yua looks at you, her eyes wide, you had mentioned that you got his number a few weeks ago to her, but that nothing but short conversation came from the exchange which only lasted a few days.

“Y/N!” He calls out to you, obnoxiously waving one arm up in the air to catch your attention, it does, along with the rest of the student body that’s outside.

He starts walking over to you and Yua, pulling off his sunglasses you see that dark chocolate eyes that captured your (e/c) ones just weeks ago. Your heart is thumping against your chest as he quickly closes that gap that has been between you, a short arm’s distance away from him. You can smell his cologne, it’s a strong smell, something similar to burnt cinnamon being carried by the wind the circles around you.

Yua looks at you for answers but you couldn’t give her any if you even tried. You find yourself swallowed whole by his dark eyes, feeling like you’re about to sink. “M-Miya-san?”

“Atsumu.” He smirks, “sorry for just showing up. I was in the neighborhood and thought we could go get something to eat. You aren’t busy, are you?”

“No, she’s not.” Yua nudges your arm, bringing you back to reality, “she’s actually all finished for the day.”

“What do you say? Will you come with me?” He reaches out his hand and you almost immediately take it and maybe you should’ve been more cautious, after all this wasn’t like it was in high school.

** The first few months with Atsumu are blissful, perfect and you start to wonder if this is what you were missing back with Ushijima. Every day with Atsumu is an adventure, you never know what to expect which is a sharp contrast to that same day everyday feeling you had back in high school. He keeps you on your toes and you love it, you eat it up, spending all your free time with him and it shows when you get back a test with a failing mark.

“Budding romances aren’t the most important thing in life, Y/N.” Your professor speaks low when he places the paper on the desk, he doesn’t have to tell you how he feels about it, disappointment drips from his words.

Atsumu didn’t offer much help on the subject either, simply shrugging at it and telling you that there’s always the next test. “Let’s go out.” “I really should study, ‘Tsumu.” You tilt your head back to look up at him, he’s sitting on the couch behind you.

He says your name, dragging out each syllable, “it’s the last night I can. I have an away game that I leave for on Friday.”

“You didn’t tell me that.” “Must have forgot.” He looks down at his phone, “coming or not?”

You know that you shouldn’t have gone, that studying is more important, but him leaving meant that you’d be apart for the first time and he had that lopsided pout on his face, so you agree. Grabbing your jacket and following him out the door as he drapes an arm around you, “I can always count on you.”

*                      * Two years and four months ago

“I’m gonna kill him!” Yua shouts as she walks into your dorm room. She practically ran from her part-time job in the library to your dorm when you called her, unable to talk from crying so loudly. While she took the elevator up to your room, she managed to see the text explaining the cause of your distress and is fuming.

“You’ll…go…to jail.” You finally manage to spit out, the sobs and hiccups breaking up your words as you wipe your running nose on your sweatshirt sleeve. Usually Yua would scold you, telling you just how disgusting that it, but tonight she just sits next to you, letting you lean on her shoulder.

She gently rubs your arm as she wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer to her side, “maybe I’ll key that fancy car of his.”

“I think it’s his brother’s.”

“Deflate his balls!”

“Yua!”

“Volleyballs, get your head out of the gutter.” She smiles when you let out a small laugh. She leans her head down on yours and you are thankful that you’re close enough for the silence to be comfortable, for certain things to be left unsaid.

*                      * Two years and two months ago

The next few weeks seem to drag by, each day seemingly longer than the last. Yua has all but moved into your dorm, refusing to leave your side for more than the duration of classes. With her there, you realize even more that your phone hasn’t gone off, there’s no surge of messages coming through from a certain setter. Things take a bit of a turn when you hear a nearby conversation, two girls gushing about some famous model getting into a relationship to a volleyball player.

But it’s that said volleyball player’s name that anchors your feet to the ground, that name that echoes in your ears while your lungs struggle to take in the air you want to force into them.

Miya Atsumu

Yua essentially banned the use of his name or anything related to him into your life and for better or worse you’ve both manage to uphold it, especially seeing how with his newest brand deal, his face is everywhere just like Michael Jordan’s was in the U.S. during the 90’s. Somehow, you manage to avoid it, until now when your body seems to act on its own and you’re sudden reading several headlines confirming the match.

*                      * Two years ago

“Are you sure you’ll be okay alone?” Yua looks at you, worry etched on her expression, “I don’t have to go to this guest speaking event.”

“Yua, you’ve been talking about this for weeks, you’re going.”

“Promise to call if you need me to come back? I’m only going to Tokyo, so I can get back within three hours.”

“Yes, yes, I promise.” You make a “shoo” gesture with your hand, walking towards her as she picks up her back to leave. You pull her into a quick hug, reassuring her that everything will be fine for one weekend.

** You let out a dramatic sigh, towel drying your hair as you walk out of the bathroom and towards your bed.

8PM on a Friday and I’m getting ready for bed, lame.

You’re slipping on a pair of fuzzy socks when the music you’ve been playing gets interrupted by a phone call. Within much thought, assuming it’s Yua, you answer, only to stop in your tracks when a familiar and husky voice calls your name.

“Y/N!” Each syllable of your name is drawn out with a slight lag, a telltale sign that he’s intoxicated.

If Yua was there, she would tell you to just hang up and block the number, that you had been doing better lately and should just let someone else deal with it, but Yua isn’t there and you feel that it must mean something if you had been the one he called.  Drunken words are sober thoughts, right?

His drunken voice and repeated plea of your name is enough to melt you, enough to make you throw all rational thought out the window, quickly throwing on a hoodie, rushing to the address he barely slurred out.

Fortunately, the restaurant he is at isn’t too far from your dorm, however it is embarrassing when you walk in and could hear him across the room, shouting for you.

“Atsumu.”

He quickly turns to you, that sloppy grin of his piercing you in the heart as he stumbles over to throw his arms around you. The scent of alcohol hits you before he does, leaving you to wonder just how much he’s had as you stagger backwards a bit before steadying the both of you. You just barely get the both of you to a cab, his constant swaying challenging you until you’re able to shove him in the vehicle, hesitating when asked where they were taking you. You didn’t know where he was staying these days, you still weren’t sure what he was doing in Kyoko, so you settle for the only address you know to go.

** “Are you serious?” Yua shouts, all but pulling out her hair.

Three weeks. That’s how long Atsumu had been back in your life and how long your best friend had been in the dark about it. You wanted to tell her about the night Atsumu called drunk, but felt it was best to do it in person since it was such a touchy subject, but when she got back, she was still so excited about the speaker and to tell you about it, you lost your nerve.

Then as the days continued to go by, you kept coming up with a reason not to tell her. What you weren’t expecting was her for to just show up out of the blue or for a fresh out of the shower Atsumu to answer the door. You felt confrontation coming and that was something you weren’t a huge fan of.

“I know it looks bad, but I can explain.”

Yua shakes her head, her lips in a straight line, foot tapping on the tile flooring. “This is why you’ve been cutting classes and missing assignments.”

“I don’t see how this is your business at all.” Atsumu glances over at Yua, an amused smirk on his lips, “jealousy doesn’t suit you, sweetheart.”

Yua turns abruptly on her heel, storming out of the dorm room and when you grab her arm, there’s tears in her eyes when she turns to face you.

“He’s changed, Yua.” There’s such a hopeful look on your face, an expression that screams that you actually believe him.

She drags her arm across her eyes, wiping away the tears, “why can’t you see he’s not good for you!”

*                      * 1 year and 10 months ago

The shuffling of your peers is lost on you, motionlessly staying in your seat as all of those around you practically bolt out after the 55 minutes long public speaking class. Your eyes are trained on the board in front of you but the notebook on your desk is unopened, your pen still capped.

It takes a few moments for you to notice the weight of the hand on your shoulder and the back and forth motion it's pushing you in. Shaking your head, you snap out of whatever daze you’ve been in and look over to see Naoki with a concerned expression on his face.

“Do you need to see the nurse?”

You shake your head, “oh, no. I was just thinking.”

He raises an eyebrow at the quick smile you throw his way before he sighs, giving into your excuse, even after only knowing each other a few months, Naoki knew when to just let things go.

“Good morn—You aren’t Yua.” You stopped your greeting when you noticed the shuffling at the chair next to you wasn’t Yua but someone you’d never seen before.

“Oh no, sorry. I’m Higashi Naoki, I just transferred here.” He gave you a big bright smile, extending his hand out.

“Uh, oh, hello.” You felt embarrassment creep up the back of your neck as you awkwardly shook his hand. Luckily your phone vibrated, allowing you to focus your attention to something else other than the rather attractive brunette sitting next to you.

You read the words on the screen, somewhat understood the meaning of them but your mind kept going back to the warm orange brown eyes that looked at you with such kindness. They reminded you of the way you felt back in high school, the way that Ushijima made sure you always felt: safe.

To your surprise, Yua had already met Naoki, they shared the glass before this one and Yua was actually excited that you two had ended up meeting. After that, the three of you were fast friends, almost as if you had all been friends for years rather than just several weeks. But not everyone was excited for your new friendship and he had no problem being very vocal about it.

Atsumu wasn’t keen on the friendship when he randomly showed up to the campus one day, seeing the two of you sitting outside, laughing. You had to run after him, he took off without letting you even introduce Naoki, trying to tell him that he was just a friend, but Atsumu seemed to already have his mind made up on what was what.

A week later, after not hearing from Atsumu you got a message from him telling you that he needed to dedicate himself more to his team, his career and being in a relationship with you just wasn’t it.

“You can copy my notes during lunch, Y/N.”

“Thanks, Nao-chan!” You smile up at him while shoving your things into your backpack. He clears his throat, blush spreading across his cheeks as he turns away from you.

** Professor A: Missing Assignments

Professor B: Make-up Test Notice

Professor C: Mandatory Advisor Meeting

XMail: Unread Messages (12)

You feel a pit in your stomach, not wanting to read the emails, already knowing the disappointed messages they held. You hadn’t been your best self lately especially when it came to your studies and had several unfinished assignments and 0’s in the gradebook. It wasn’t like this was the first time you and Atsumu had been broken up but for some reason, each time felt worse than the previous time.

Leaning back, you let out a deep sigh as you glance around at the boxes that liter the room. After you and Atsumu broke up the most recent time, Yua managed to convince you to move into her off-campus apartment. At first you didn’t like the idea, not wanting to be a burden to her or cause anyone to think anything of her with you living with her, but she wouldn’t heard anything but yes. She told you that she had the space (her parents insisted on getting her a two bedroom even though it was just her) and it was easier for her to keep an eye on you.

There are still some things that are in boxes, mostly things from Atsumu that you didn’t want to toss out, but didn’t think should be on display either. Plus, with all the catching up you had to do, there wasn’t much time for anything else especially with the schedule that Yua had made for you. The two of you shared most classes, so she had all the notes and study guides you needed and to be honest, it helped keep your mind off a certain MSBY setter.

BZZT!

Nao-chan: I’m heading up, let me in! (1:42PM)

A smile spreads across your face, pushing yourself from the desk and quickly slipping out of your room and towards the door. By the time you open it, you see him walking up the hallway and he flashes you his signature smile when his eyes meet yours.

“Nao-chan!” You crash into him, wrapping him into a hug, one that he returns effortlessly.

“What have I done to get such a warm welcome?”

“I can’t just miss you?” You tilt your head when you look up at him, stepping away from him to look him in the eye. You hold back a laugh when you see his face turn red, turning his face away from you before mumbling something along the lines of “yeah, no, that’s fine.”

You bring back two cups of juice (Yua refused to let soda into the apartment) and notice that Naoki seems to be nervous, wringing his hands together and looking down at the ground which is different that he usually acts.

“Nao-chan, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, uhm, well I wanted to ask you something.” He makes eye contact with you and you nod for him to continue, “I bought these and thought we could go together.”

He pulls something out of the inside pocket of his jacket, passing it to you and for a second your blood runs cold, eyes scanning over the item picking up the word ‘volleyball’. By the warmth suddenly on your arm, you could tell that Naoki sensed your discomfort.

“Forget it, it was a dumb idea.”

“No! It’s not, it’s just…uhm…”

“I just thought that it might be a good way to get out of the apartment and it’s an Adlers’ game so maybe you’d seen your friend.”

You scrunch your brows together before looking back at the tickets. It was for a game between the Schweiden Adlers and Tachibana Red Falcons, a smile spread across your face, a mix of excitement to see Ushijima play again (his play style is still one of your favorites) but also that Naoki remembered these little facts about you.

“I’d love to go. I’ll call Ushijima and tell him we’ll be there!” You give him a quick hug, rushing to your room to get your phone, leaving a smiling Naoki behind.

** Naoki smiles watching you all but vibrate as you wait in line to go into the gym. The game had been all you talked about for the last two weeks, eager to get out of the apartment for anything other than classes or your on-campus job. You spent most of your free time telling Naoki just how amazing Ushijima is on the court and how he had already asked to meet Naoki, who seemed a bit nervous when you mentioned that.

“I didn’t know you liked watching volleyball, Nao-chan. Did you play in school?”

“Oh, uh no. The person I’m interested in likes it, so I thought I’d learn more about it.” He hands over the tickets, the two of you being ushered into to the building. His shoulder brushes yours due to the large amount of people all in the crowed hallway.

“I didn’t know you had your eye on someone! I’ll teach you all I know about volleyball so you can impress them!” You beam a huge smile at Naoki before your attention is pulled to the other side of the hallway. “Nao-chan! Let’s get t-shirts!”

He follows you as you drag him towards a table set up with shirts to memorialize the game. You intended to get matching ones, but due to size differences, you had a settle with a white shirt for you and a black on for Naoki. After you reluctantly let him pay, the two of you make your way to the gym, Ushijima had seats held for the two of you.

Once the whistle blew, you were back in your element, a huge smile on your face watching Ushijima command the court just like he had been for as long as you could remember. For the first time in years, you feel light and free, happier than you can remember being. Ushijima catches your eye at some point during the second set and you eagerly wave to him, giving him that same toothy grin you did as kids.

** “Toshi!” You barely give him time to turn around, running straight into him as you throw your arms around him, both Toshi and Naoki chuckle at the fact you managed to knock Toshi off balance for a few seconds.

“Y/N.” He pulls you into his broad chest and if you hadn’t known him for years, you wouldn’t believe that this tall and muscular man was the same boy who ran around with a watering can that was almost as big as him. “I’m glad you came today, it’s been a while.”

“Since high school.” You bite your lower lip and notice that Toshi squeezes your arm, a gesture he’d do to comfort you. He gives you a reassuring wink, letting you know that there’s no hard feelings about the past before he looks over at Naoki, “are you going to introduce me to your boyfriend?”

“Oh no! No, no, no.” You stumble over your words, frantically waving your hands around.

“I’m Higashi Naoki, nice to meet you.”

“Nao-chan is just a friend.”

Linking your arm with his, you look back at him and see his smile drop for a split second before it reappears while shaking hands with Ushijima but that quickly leaves your mind when you see a familiar poof of orange hair. But before you can take the time to figure out who he is, you hear an accent that you don’t think you’ll ever be able to forget.

“Just friends, huh?”

Your eyes widen in horror, immediately turning and seeing the familiar sight of golden yellow hair walking away from you.

“Y/N—” Naoki reaches out to grab your arm, but you’ve already started running after Atsumu, calling out his name as you rushed to catch up to him, weaving through the crowded hallways.

“Tsumu!” You finally grab ahold of his wrist, trying to pull him back but instead he just yanks you forward as he tries to get his arm away from you.

“Don’t call me that.” His tone is icy with an expression that matches, “why are you even here?”

“I came to see Tos—Ushijima.”

“I mean why are you here talking to me, you are clearly on a date with what’s his face.”

“Nao-chan? We’re just friends, it was just to get out of the apartment and have fun.” Your voice is trembling, bottom lip quivering listening to the harsh tone of his voice.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes, “you were all over him, just stop lying.”

“No! I wasn’t.” The tears you’ve been trying to hold back now slip down your cheeks, you couldn’t figure out why he was acting like this especially when you were broken up.

“I never thought you’d end up like all those other girls, just another pig wanting to date me for status.”

Your heart is pounding loudly in your ears that you don’t hear whatever else he mumbled before turning and walking away, your arm weakly reaches out to him before your knees hit the vinyl flooring. After several moments pass, you feel someone pull you up and wrap their arms around you, the familiar scent of men’s body wash washes over you.

“Thank you.” You choke out, the comforting embrace causing more tears to fall.

“Best friends forever, right?”

*                      * 1 year and 3 months ago

“Are people looking at me?”

“Huh?” Yua raises an eyebrow as she looks over at you.

“There’s a psychology term for that feeling, it’s called spotlight effect.” Naoki says, trying to reassure you that no one’s looking.

“No, I think she’s right.” Yua stretches an arm out in front of him, causing him to stop walking before you drop your backpack on the ground, shocked.

Atsumu is standing on campus, wearing a suit, carrying a stupidly large bouquet of flowers, going around asking where you are, all but shouting your name to the sky. Part of you wants to disappear, of course he’d choose to stand in the middle of campus, catching everyone’s attention.

You trip slightly over your bag, marching towards him, barely hearing Naoki calling after you before Atsumu’s attention snaps to you, his eyes locking in on yours.

“Y/N!” Gleefully, he scurries towards you, handing the bouquet to you, it’s heavier than you thought it’d be.

“Atsumu, what are you doing?”

“I want, no, I need to talk to you.” He drops down to his knees and you can hear the increase of hushed tones, you glance back to see a very confused Yua and Naoki wears a horrified expression. “I’d like to try again, please.”

“Atsumu…”

“I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

“Okay, okay, just…please get up. People are staring.” You try to hide your face behind the flowers, the pure embarrassment causing your face to burn.

He pushes himself off the ground, grabbing your hand as he pulls you towards the faculty parking lot. It doesn’t feel like you are in your own body, your legs moving to keep up with him before he stops.

Once again, he drops down to his knees, grabbing your hands with his, pleading with you to listen to him, to believe that he really means it when he tells you that he’s changed, asking you for just one more shot. For most of his speech, you look at the top of his head, seeing that the golden yellow is being overtaken by his natural dark brown roots, your fingers twitch, wanting to run through his hair. It’s when you finally lock eyes with him that you see the tears that line them, a single one slipping down his cheek from the corner of his right eye.

“I shouldn’t have come.” He wipes his eyes, sniffling a bit. He squeezes your hands before he stands up, letting you go. “I’m sorry for doing this you.”

There’s no way to explain it, but he seems different and suddenly you want to see this new him, to be the one that gets to be part of this new and mature Atsumu. Throwing all your sense out the window, pushing the rational and logical voices of Yua and Naoki to the back of your head, you wrap your arms around him, pressing your face into his back and you can feel his heart pounding in his chest.

“Don’t go.”

*                      * 9 months ago

“Y/N! Door!”

Still in the process of buttoning your shirt, you poke your head out of your room, “I’m almost done, can you get it, please?”

Yua and Naoki share a look, when you had told them you decided to get back with Atsumu they weren’t shy about telling you how they were against it, that as your friend they hated seeing you so hurt, but they also told you that they weren’t just going to leave you either. It had been an unspoken rule that when it came to all things Atsumu (including opening the door) that they didn’t want to be part of it, for you to keep that part of your life away, unless he did something to hurt you.

Naoki reluctantly gets up, you can tell by the way he sluggishly walks his way towards the door. Dipping back into your room, you finish getting ready, grabbing your phone and sweater before pulling the door shut behind you.

You hear the door slam shut and look to see an irritated Naoki, “where’s Tsumu?” Naoki goes to speak, but you don’t give him a chance, instead just rush out of the apartment.

“Tsumu! Tsumu!” You shout out to him, barely catching his attention as he presses the button for the elevator. “Where are you going?”

He clenches his fist; the gesture catches your eye. “Home. I didn’t sign up to be humiliated tonight.” He looks at you, a type of rage in his eyes that you’ve never seen before and you aren’t sure what could’ve happened to make him so upset. Since he showed up on campus, begging for another chance eh always made sure to be open about his feelings.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You have to tell me, Tsumu.”

“I just don’t like him being in your apartment.”

The elevator dings, doors opening and just as he goes to step into it, you pull back on his arm, pleading with him to stay, tears filling your eyes. He jerks his arm from your grip, not that you were holding on that tightly, and he steps into the elevator.

You aren’t sure why your relationship is like this, why it has so many ups and downs, why it hurts this much. You aren’t sure why being with Atsumu is so hard, why it feels like all you see is his back while he walks away from you, leaving you broken each time. In high school, you hated the almost boring way each day with Ushijima felt, but in this moment, you’d give anything for that because at least back then you felt safe and knew where you stood.

*                      * 5 months ago

For the last four months, Atsumu spoiled you rotten with daily gifts and elaborate dates. You received a flower a day, it was the flower of your birth month, boxes of your favorite candies, along with cards that had some romantic quote in them.

For dates, he takes you to the best restaurants, buys out move theatres, flies you to various parts of Japan to not only watch his games, but to show you around. When you’re together, he actually listens to you, takes his time to finally get to ask you about your upbringing, family, and where you see yourself in five years. He shows you how he’s remembered things you don’t like and even the things that you do and for the first time in the two plus years you’ve known him, it feels like things are starting to even out, that all the turmoil might just be over.

** “Do you like it?” His accent drips from his words, you’ve noticed the accent gets thicker when he’s either nervous or excited.

You glance around the empty apartment, a bit confused as why you’re standing in the middle of it. You thought that Yua apartment was big, considering it had two bedrooms, but this seems to be even bigger than hers. The large windows allow an abundance of natural light and you really do like that.

“It’s a really nice apartment.” You smile as he walks over to you, pulling you into his toned chest, his chin on your forehead.

“I’m glad, it’s yours.”

You pull back, shock written all over your expression, too many thoughts racing through your mind for you to form a sentence. Atsumu did a lot of crazy things, did a lot of spur of the moment things, but this, this really did top them all. “What?”

He shrugs, digging in his pocket before placing a key in your hand, he looks a bit scared to you. “It’s just…my lease was up and I know it’s a bit further from campus than Yua’s, but I was thinking you’d like to live here…with me.”

Without any hesitation, you throw your arms around Atsumu, repeatedly saying “yes” as you awkwardly bounced up and down. When you pull back, he cups your face in his hands, bringing you closer for a kiss.

You can’t stop smiling, eagerly nodding your head as Atsumu talks about furniture and getting your things boxed to be moved, not really hearing anything because all you can think of is that things are finally going to work out between the two of you and that’s why your heart is thumping against your chest.

*                      * 3 months ago

Two months.

8 weeks.

60.8 days.

That’s how long your relationship of bliss lasted, how long you saw the caring and loving version of Atsumu, the side of him that stole your heart even after months and years of back and forth, ups and down, on and off.

You hate it because things were going so well, everything was perfect, even better than how great things had been with Ushijima back in high school. What you hate even more is the fact that while you had been packing up your things, you said some not so nice things to Yua, telling her that she was wrong about him, that this time things were going to work out. You had all but bragged and even hit below the belt with saying she was just jealous that she didn’t have someone that loved her the way Atsumu loves you.

Nine times out of ten you’re alone in this apartment, your music on the highest volume isn’t loud enough to fill the silence that creeps through the rooms and wraps around you and when the silence gets to you, you’re forced to think about things you’d rather not. Like how right Yua had been, how Naoki was only looking out for you, how every time you got back together with Atsumu, it just seemed to hurt worse than the time before.

During that one time of ten that Atsumu is home, the two of you just fight, you fight about everything really; your classes, his games, your friends, his friends and now that you’re all but isolated from your friends, it just makes things worse. You’ve always hated comparing the two, Ushijima to Atsumu, knowing both relationships are/were different, but recently, you’ve wondered if repeating the same day over and over, if that almost suffocating comfort, you wonder if that would be easier to live with now when looked at next to the way your current relationship has been.

*                      * Atsumu flips his phone face down, muting it after it had begun to ring, turning his attention back to the movie the two of you were watching.

You scoff, pushing yourself off his side to lean against the other side of the sofa.

“Don’t start.”

“Start what? I was just getting more comfortable.”

“Cut the shit. You always do this.”

You roll your eyes, already irritated. “Did you want me to leave the room so you could call her back?”

“This is exactly what I’m talking about.” He pushes himself off the couch, shaking his head as he storms into the kitchen.

You reach across the couch, swiping his phone from the armrest, trying to get into it, but no surprise he’s once against changed the passcode. You’re fuming at this point, shoving yourself off the couch before you start to walk to your room. You were done, have been done with all of this.

His hand tightly wraps around your wrist and jerks you backwards towards him. He starts yelling, demanding that you give him back his phone and the anger in you takes over and you throw it across the room. You start to scream about how you’re done, you’re tired and don’t deserve to feel this miserable. He yells back telling you that he’s giving you things anyone would be thankful to have and you smack him with your free hand.

He freezes, dropping your wrist as he runs his fingers through his hair, the expression on his face is something you’ve never seen and without another word, he storms out of the apartment.

You didn’t see him for three weeks, if it hadn’t been for his teammates Hinata and Bokuto stopping by, you wouldn’t have known that he’s okay and has been staying with them. When he does come back, he has a long-winded apology and a large bouquet of flowers. He falls to his knees in the door way, telling you that he’s sorry, that he can’t believe his actions and that he swears that he’ll do better.

*                      * Present Day

When you open the door, Yua throws her arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace and you feel yourself start to sob again. She holds you up as your knees get weak, letting the exhaustion take over you as you inhale her familiar perfume.

Naoki slightly pushes by the two of you, angrily making his way through the apartment, brows scrunched into a scowl. You watch as he flings open every door, stomping through each room before he walks back to you, rage radiating off of him. “Where the fuck is he?”

You’re startled, panicking you look up at Yua who wraps her arm around your neck and pulls you back into her, your face pressing just below the top of her shoulder.

“Obviously not here, so chill out.”

She ushers you over to the couch, Naoki handing you the throw blanket to wrap around yourself as you finally catch your breath. You lean your head on the back of the couch, it just adds pressure to your headache, but you’re having a hard time opening up to your friends.

“How’d you know something was wrong?” You slowly lift your head up, looking between the two of them, your face turning red when you hear that you called Naoki repeatedly around 2AM, leaving incoherent voicemails where they only picked up on the words: fight, Atsumu and leave.

“I really think you should move back in with me.” Yua speaks with caution, knowing how sensitive the topic is.

You just nod, defeatedly. You’re more upset about failing to maintain the relationship than you are that the relationship is over. Part of you wants to know why you put yourself through so much to prove you could stay with him, was it because you didn’t want your previous break-up to mean nothing? That if you could make this one work then you weren’t an awful person for ending things with Ushijima for an almost comical reason?

“Just pack what you have to have and we’ll replace whatever you don’t bring and need, okay?” Naoki gives you a small smile before Yua stands up telling you that she’ll grab your things from the bathroom and Naoki can get the things throughout the living room.

Roughly half an hour later, you have most of the things you brought, minus any gifts that Atsumu gave you, but you can’t seem to step through the threshold. Yua and Naoki are standing in the hallway waiting, but you’re afraid to make the step because all of a sudden it symbolizing a bigger commitment that you intended. Once you step out of the apartment, once you shut the door and drop the key in the box, you’re officially shutting the Miya Atsumu chapter of your life and that shakes you to the core.

“Y/N, you’re going to be okay. We’re right here. I’m right here.” Naoki reaches out his hand and you decide to take that leap, grabbing on to his hand like a lifeline. Your knees are wobbly as you place one foot into the hallway, straddling the threshold. “C’mon, just one more step. I got you.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, frantically taking that last step before throwing your arms around Naoki, repeatedly saying “I did it!” He puts his hand on the back of your head, pressing you into him, telling you that he’s proud of you.

You take one last look into the apartment that for some reason now fills small, it feels different, like you no longer belong there and while you’re still terrified of letting go of the rope that ties you and Atsumu together, there’s something exhilarating about starting over. Your eyes are closed as you pull the door shut and when you turn and open them, you see proud smiles on both Yua and Naoki’s faces and you couldn’t help but be excited for this next chapter.

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[thatsgay-writes]

Can I request a Azula x female reader? Say Azula wins the agni maid and reader is there by her side watching her burn nations down

“Perfect.” You say as you do the finish touches to Azula’s hair. She had gotten angry earlier and snapped at the maids, kicking them out. You had known Azula since you were babies, growing up together with the rest of her friends. You had liked her for a while but never acted on your feelings until the vacation you and your friends took on emerald island. This boy had flirted with her at the party you all attended and you set his pants on fire with a candle. You were what kept Azula calm when she was about to go crazy, you were her anchor. You were there to hold her close and reassure her after Mai and Ty Lee betrayed her. You were the calm to her rage, the water to her fire... Literally, you were a water bender. You had been dropped on your parents doorstep one day, no note or anything. No one, including yourself, had known you could water bend until you bended away the water under a turtle duck before Azula could throw bread at it.

After finding out, Fire Lord Ozai accused you of being a spy... Yes, 9 year old y/n, a spy. He was ready to put you down before Azula intervened. She pled your case and convinced her father that you could be useful once you mastered your bending. So you were sent out of the fire nation to find someone to teach you water bending, Ozai having the full expectation that you wouldn’t return, who would want to train a fire nation water bender? Well, you did find someone to teach you water bending and a sub style called blood bending. You spent almost 5 years with Hama mastering your abilities before returning to the fire nation. Now at 14, you looked way more mature and fit from the years of training. When you saw Azula again for the first time she just gave you a simple nod, barely paying attention to you. Until later the same day she pulled you into her room and hugged you like her life depended on it.

You never told anyone of your blood bending and planned to keep it that way until today. “Zuko...” Azula sneered as he and Katara rode in, interrupting her coronation. “Sorry, but your not going to become Fire Lord today... I am.” Zuko says as he jumps off the bison. Azula lets out a laugh mockingly, you had to stifle your own. “You’re hilarious.” Azula says, not taking Zuko seriously. “And your going down.” Katara says, voice full of conviction. You growl under your breath at Katara. “Control your attack dog Zuko.” You sneer causing Katara to glare at you. “You want to do this... Let’s Agni Kai!” Azula announces with a wide grin and you smirked next to her as Zuko agreed causing Katara to give him a worried look. You knew Azula was more powerful than him and you had full confidence that she would win.

You watch as blue and red flames dance across the sky and cut through the air as Azula and Zuko battle. It was already taking longer than you had hoped but you knew Azula would win and you knew that if need be, you could take Katara. The only people that knew of your water bending was Azula, Fire Lord Ozai, and Hama. “No lightening today? Afraid I’ll redirect it!?” Zuko yells, getting a little to confident as he knocks Azula down once. Azula shoots you a look and you smirk a little, knowing she had something up her sleeve. You watched as she created lightening and sent it straight at Katara, who froze in shock. You watched as Zuko caught the lightening before sending it into the air and you cringed as you watched him twitch after he hit the ground. “Zuko!” Katara yelled about to run to him before having to dodge fire sent at her.

As the two girls fought, you walked up slowly to Zuko and poked the new scar on his chest to make sure he was still alive. He let out a loud gasp before twitching again. You nodded your head and moved forward again to watch Azula and Katara fight. You were ready to step in when you noticed Katara hovering over an open water source and as soon as Katara froze water around herself and Azula, you stepped in. You focused all your energy and started blood bending Katara away from the water source. Katara looked at you with wide eyes displaying shock and fear. “Someone get the container!” Azula barked out to the guards that you had managed to get back after Azula went on a firing rampage. The guards brought out a full body cage made of pure platinum. Once she was locked in, you released her from your hold and smiled as she glared at you. “How do you know how to blood bend!?” Katara yells out enraged, “It isn’t even a full moon!” “You don’t spend 5 years learning for nothing.”

---

Azula had been officially crowned Fire Lord and now the two of you were waiting for the Avatar to arrive. Katara was locked in the deepest dungeon that the fire nation had that you had changed to have dessert like qualities. Zuko was being healed by a healer but was still incapacitated. “Shouldn’t be much longer now...” You mumbled as you stood next to Azula’s throne. “A fire nation balloon has been spotted!” A guard yelled as he ran into the room. “Show time.” You stated as you hid behind the throne as Dai Li agents hid on the ceiling. The door to the throne room busted down as Aang sent a wave of air towards it. “Where is Katara! And Zuko!?” Aang asked as he, Sokka, and Toph stood in fighting positions. “Who’s behind the chair?” Toph asked and you moved next to Azula with a smirk. “Oh it’s just a non bender.” Toph says tauntingly trying to get a reaction from you but gets one from Sokka instead. “Hey!” Sokka says and crosses his arms.

You shake your head and let out a small laugh. “Tsk tsk tsk, a non bender?” You ask with fake disappointment. “Wrong.” You say as you blood bend Toph, causing her to be lifted under the ground as Dai Li agents use the ground to move another full body case around Toph, sealing her in. You release your hold and watch as Top starts to panic as she kicks the cage. “I can’t see anything outside of this thing!” She yells out causing Aang and Sokka to worry. You watch as Azula raises a finger, signaling the Dai Li agents who send out the rock gloves at Sokka immediately holding him down and capturing him. Now all that stood in Azula’s way was Aang. Aang almost immediately goes into the avatar state and glares at the two of you as Azula stand up, slowly removing her robe and getting into a fighting stance. “I’ve never blood bended a avatar before.” You state as you crack your neck and knuckles, getting into a fighting stance.

Azula stood from the throne and nodded her head as the Dai Li agents started attacking the avatar. “Find a way to get him open.” You nod your head in response. “Remember if he dies in the avatar state, the cycle ends.” You say to Azula as you kiss her cheek and join the fight. The fight was a lot harder than you thought it would be. Aang had beaten almost all the Dai Li agents and you haven’t been able to blood bend him long enough for Azula to hit him with lightening. You watched from the sidelines as Aang took out the last Dai Li agent and let his defense down for a second. A second long enough for you to attack. “Azula!” You yell as you blood bend the avatar, barely being able to keep focus on Aang. You let out a breath of relief as Aang falls to ground and you let your body finally slump down. “Y/n?” Azula asks worriedly. “I’m okay... I just haven’t had to blood bend so much before.” You responds as Azula helps you stand and rest your body against hers.

---

The last week had been a whirlwind. You and Azula announced to the world that the Avatar was dead and that the cycle was over before sending out fire nation blimps to all the major cities in the other 3 nations. After healing from his injuries, Zuko, Sokka was sent to join Ty Lee and Mai in Boiling Rock. The prison had been updated and made practically impenetrable from the outside and inside. Katara and Toph were kept in special cells, Katara’s was deep below the fire nation castle while Toph’s was as far away from the ground as possible. 

You watched with a smirk from the inside of blimp as waves of fire nation soldiers stormed the walls of the Northern Water Tribe while you sat on the arm of Azula’s chair. You both got up and stood on a platform as the blimp stopped above the front of the castle. The platform lowered slowly towards the ground where your soldiers held back water nation soldiers. The platform lowered all the way to the ground and you and Azula walked towards the leader of the northern tribe. “Surrender now and we wont burn your town to the ground.” Azula demanded as the chief glared at her. “How do I know you won’t hurt the moon spirits?” Azula let out a humorless laugh. “As much as that would make things easier... Someone I know needs the moon spirit alive.” Azula says as she rubs her hand against your cheek. “Now do you accept the terms or not?” Azula asks getting annoyed at how long it was taking. You watched the Chief’s eyes as he looked behind you and you turned around just in time to stop a ice spear heading straight for Azula. You catch the spear and turn it into hundred of mini icicles before sending it back at the man who threw it in the first place. “Pakku!” The chief yelled as he watched his friend fall.

You sent a hard glare at the chief before yelling out, “Burn it to the ground!” Causing your soldiers to let out a cheer before melting houses and setting whatever they could on fire. You and Azula returned to the platform and let it start rising up. “Long live the Fire Lord!” You yelled out causing the soldiers to yell the same thing in agreement. “Are you okay?” You ask as you looked down at Azula who had been silent since the attack on her life but had an arm wrapped around your waist. “That was... hot.”