#either way its very pretty i salivate

[rataccatak]

niche appreciation post: how kaySD draws sergey's side profile <33

[vampiretendencies]

I can’t stop thinking about a blurb of JJ working on his bike and reader wants to spend more quality time with him so she joins in and tries to help but she’s not very good? So JJ is very patient and slightly teasing but shows her how he does everything and it’s just cute and fluffy? Love everything you write sooooo much!!!

warnings; fluff

pairing; jj maybank x fem!reader

authors note; now that you’ve sent this i can’t stop thinking about it either. i adore this request, hope u enjoy <3

The hammock is thick, knitted, and not close enough to JJ.

He’d insisted that you sit and look pretty in the shade, like the ‘otherworldly goddess’ you are. You were in his vicinity and that at least will have to suffice for the time being whilst he wrestles with whatever mishap has apprehended his dirt bike now.

Just observing him do so, was a pleasing sight— as he’s shirtless, his tanned skin begging to be touched. Abs adjusting to every bend and pull he makes to acquire the right angle whilst his chest flexes in unison. Shark tooth necklace dangling about in any which way. God. He shined with a gleam of sweat from the rays beaming wistfully on him. With a bandana hanging slack out of the many pockets on his cargo shorts. You really desired to drag you finger across each and every crevice that made up JJ’s built frame in front of you. That’s not even to count the way he chugs a beer down every thirty minutes or so— tilting his head back the slightest, making the locks of his hair follow, his Addams apple bobbed up and down with every gulp. If he missed his mouth you were lucky to see dribbles of it seep from the corners, and he’d just wipe it away with his wrist, like second nature, only to chuck the crushed can somewhere in the patchy yard.

With that being the view, one could merely imagine why you are so helplessly antsy in this damn hammock.

He’s tightening the bolt on his bike stand to readjust as he thought it was loose. Your jaw should’ve been on the floor with the way the veins in his arm bulged with every twist, instead you settled with salivating.

You getting up to muster a helping hand was the farthest thing from JJ’s mind.

But you do.

Because, if not physical interaction there’s quality time— and there’s never too much of that.

“J, do you need any help?”

“Yeah baby, you can go get me another beer out of the cooler-“

“No I mean like help, help.”

JJ thought he was in another dimension, that he was seeing double, or that the earth was about to swallow you whole. Help? His forehead is forming wrinkles at such a foreign gesture leaving your mouth, orbs glaring up at you standing over him in obvious perplexity.

“You wanna help me?”

JJ scoffs almost in disbelief, but there’s a partial laugh stuck in his throat. You offer him a tight lipped grin, as if to say you were being all the way serious. Sat on a flat makeshift old cardboard box so his khaki cargo shorts wouldn’t get covered in dirt and debris than they already were, he pats the open space encouraging for you to sit next to him.

There’s a wrench in his hand, the movements of his elongated fingers to the sliver wrench is writhing around the bolt in an effort to make the bike stand compact. With the bike lying on its side, it was of uncomplicated access for JJ to keep it intact. You lie your head mindlessly on his shoulder, perspiring but nevertheless still encapsulating a form of solace. Your hand gently smoothed over the coating of skin about his spine, persisting to delve into whatever it was JJ was saying.

“See this wrench right here?” He spoke, directing you with such ease, he feels the heat of your cheek rub against his shoulder, nodding your head yes. “Turn it, and then keep turning it until it’s tight enough okay?”

He drops the wrench into your palm, locking his fingers with yours for a split second only to slink an arm lazily around your shoulders. Part of him was elated at your sudden interest in one of his hobbies, the other part of him is wallowing in suspicion but, he won’t complain because it’s a little more time with you.

And he could always use a little more time with you.

Even a night apart is far too much to handle.

The cool metal is surrounded by your calloused digits, and JJ is already interjecting.

“Nah baby, that’s the wrong way, turn it towards me,” He chuckles slightly, mainly due to the fact that he just gave you exact directions not even a moment ago. It’s not frustrating though, no, it’s really amusement— plus, there’s a tiny frown plying to your features which he finds captivating.

Something that was miniscule to JJ, when you can’t even spin the wrench a notch to the left, almost like it was stuck. “Fuck! Why is it so hard to turn?!” You are muffled, gritting through your teeth, with a fully clenched jaw and it won’t budge. Though JJ, glides his finger tips up and down your arms, in reassurance that ‘it’ll happen’, even if it’s tomorrow at this rate.

“You’ll get it … just try again, pretty girl.”

He readjusts your grasp on the wrench, and you swat his hand away, trying to accomplish it on your own in this dire summer atmosphere.

“Don’t think you make a very good helper, baby.”

You shoot him a glare, knowing it’s fully said pit of love. He presses a wet kiss to your cheek, to compensate for his loving insult. It stains your the skin, as it’s sloppy and full of affection. Despite it, you elbow him with a nudge to his stomach and he’s winded, punishing him for pestering sweet nothings in your ear.

It took that last push for it to turn, and JJ is biting back his bottom lip in eagerness— the bolt anticipating it’s release. With a slight grunt, it’s turning, it’s turning, and it’s tight.

“Think I did it, J!”

“Tha’s my girl, did so good!”

[nyxi-pixie]

Hiiiii.

Sorry to bother you, I wanted to know if you had any fic recs? Your writing is so good and your tastes are immaculate, and I am starving for any kind of good content. Please?

its not possible to bother me love dw <3

NOW. i dont actually read all that much anymore bc i am horrendously picky but this does give me an excuse to hype up the few authors that have satisfied my unreasonably specific tastes 🤩.

so. a few bsd recs for you (except theyre 99% skk because im horribly predictable forever). everyone go read all of these and tell the authors how wonderful they are in the comments please <3

anything @booksandpaperss has ever written is genius work and everyone should read it. could talk abt all of their stuff for hours (and i have🤩 they put up w so much of me bothering them godbless). also our brains do some accidental crazy mind melding shit whenever either of us write fic so if you like any of my stuff you will like theirs. thats the rules. <3

like twin stars in the dark (we collide)- dead apple skk porn as a vehicle for 22skk analysis. makes me salivate i have read it so many times. they get 22skk better than anyone🙏

my lies are for you to keep (my love for you to lose) - the only take on beastskk that matters to me ever. you can actually see me losing my mind in the comment i wrote on this fic bc of how fucking insane every single line made me. theres SO much packed into this thing its fucking crazy i NEEEEED everyone to read it. thats all <3

till death, I'll give you my breath - dazai death timeloop. this fic terrifies me so much i await every update with my teeth chattering and my heart pulsing so rapidly i should be hospitalised. the first scene of chapter 2 genuinely had me on the verge of tears im unwell about it.

(elli also has some jjk stuff thats REALLYREALLY good and if ur into jjk u should check that out too.)

NOW. aside from being a propaganda machine for my fav writer ever. Heres some other stuff i love.

the second perspective by @wildflowerteas. murder mystery/detective noir stuff w some time fuckery. the au of all time. mashes aspects of beast, canon, and some extra special niko sauce into a mixing bowl and goes crazy w it. just Such a genuinely impressive piece of writing. i could talk abt the technical brilliance of it for hours but i will stop myself. you gotta commit to this thing because it WILL make u crazy. also i loveee the sskk. its like if we had the beast first meeting sskk forever. SOSO GOOD!!!!

did fate guide the gun or did you? by @kanetheo. i read this pretty soon after chapter 109 and it genuinely fried my brain for months. the writing style is beautiful (as for everything they write AUGHH!!!) and the angst is delectable. the way it intersperses more fun silly skk moments with just. complete misery. GOD. it just hits. ive reread it quite a few times and it never fails to make me go crazy. srsly cannot rec this enough.

the decomposition of dazai osamu by @hella1975 this shot several bullets through my brain and i still havent recovered. i keep thinking 'oh i should reread that' and then i dont bc some part of my brain still concerns itself w maintaining whats left of my sanity. BUT its crazy good and everyone should read it and suffer at least once. EVERYONE LOVES YOU OSAMU!!!! EVERYONE EATS YOU!!! line of all time lets all kill ourselves.

smoke held conversations by feralrookie - i havent reread this in a while but it does cool stuff with nlh and the skkisms are really good in this too. ppl often write teen chuuya as less intelligent than he actually is. hes very observant, esp of dazai, and this fic gave me that 🙏

i called your name til the fever broke by forest_raccoon - vampire chuuya. biting is involved. i blacked out reading it. enough said.

[lovesickeros]

☆ the dove

{☆} characters tsaritsa {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings violence, blood {☆} word count 0.7k

Her hands are weapons, forged in a tragedy as much as a war of ash and blood that seeps into the earth and rots it from within. To them, however, she is salvation. Her hands are a kindness, not a threat. She sees it in their puffy, red eyes just brimming with tears, their fragile body so delicate and weak is still remains marred by wounds new and old – the gold still stains their skin, even long after it had been washed away.

She has seen it all – and she takes the injured dove beneath her wing with the sickly sweet promise that someday she shall mend its broken wings and teach it to fly again.

And in their stupor, they do not see her clip their wings.

It is for the best.

The wolves still salivate below the nest, waiting for her little dove to fall again – no, she shall not send her little bird to fly when it will just fall into their waiting maws once again.

This..this one is hers, she has decided.

Her little bird who dreams of the sky and the woman who clips their wings..what a tragic pair they must make, she thinks.

Not for her, of course. Yet not to them, either, unaware of the way she grounds them and keeps the key to their cage tightly in her fist.

"Tsaritsa?" The soft, meek lilt of the little bird draws her from her reverie, and she smiles – all teeth and little else, wolfish and predatory.

Yet the bird sees nothing but love in the sharp points of her canines.

As it was meant to be.

"Yes, little bird?"

She coos in honeyed tones, brushing her cold, cold hands against their skin, reveling in the way they shiver and shake beneath the ever present chill in her very bones. They do not fear the claws that ghost across their skin, and the smile they offer that illuminates their eyes like stars only proves her right – she wants to devour them whole. To see the stars in their eyes burn out beneath her teeth, their golden blood burn upon her tongue and down her throat.

"You promised to take me to the gardens today, remember?"

Her pearly, sharpened fangs peer out beneath her lips as she grins wider, unnerving to all but the little bird who sees not the wolf but the wool it wears, her hands finding their place upon their shoulders as she whispers into their ear.

She will guide her little bird where they cannot go, where their clipped wings cannot take them.

She will give them that bittersweet taste of freedom and then watch them try to catch the stars..

Just to drag them back down to earth where they belong.

"Of course, Creator – I am a woman of my word, am I not?"

Such sickly sweet lies come to her with ease – she lies and she lies and they do not see past the woolen cloak of the wolf until its jaw has snapped around its throat and its blood has painted the world a shimmering gold.

She will delight in that, too.

"If I may be so bold, Creator, you have been distant lately..have you grown tired of me already?"

Her words were as sharp as a blade, yet as dull as a rock, as sweet as they were dangerous. Like watching a mouse trap luring in its prey, she would snap it shut as soon as the little bird strayed too close.

"No! No, that's not..you've just been busy lately, I didn't want to intrude."

They remind her so much of a rabbit in those moments, and she so badly wants to know what would happen if she just took a small, insignificant bite..yet she restrains herself with a far too wide smile, her jaw clenched so hard she almost thinks they will hear it creak.

"Intrude? You could ever hardly intrude, Creator – what is mine is yours. Though, perhaps I shall have to lock you in my room to ensure you compensate me for depriving me of your presence."

In just a few short words, she snares the rabbit – her little bird, her Creator. They will see nothing but the sickly sweet lure of her smile, letting out a pretty laugh of their own as they press closer, like a bird wandering into the open maw of the beast lying in wait.

"As long as it has a nice view, I suppose I won't mind."

They jest, but she does not. And oh, how easy it is to ensnare an unsuspecting prey.

"Of course, Creator – just for you."

It won't be long until her little bird returns to its gilded cage, now. Permanently.

It is better that way.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

The Frozen Ship sounds so much better to me than The Frozen Sea!

I immediately put "The Frozen Sea" in the same category as "The Midnight Desert," aka "here is a place where characters will be when they have some personal growth moments" and it comes with a bit of lore and some gorgeous scenery and boom.

But no, we're getting even more than that.

A frozen ship is a very specific thing to be finding in the middle of the whole Frozen Sea. It's a target, for the plot if not for the characters - they may not be intending to hunt for the ship and simply stumble across it, maybe for shelter during a storm or a fight - but the symbolism.

I'm on fire about the symbolism here. A frozen ship.

First of all, if you like historical horror with lots of queer flavors, and you're okay with some pretty gory creepy existential stuff, watch The Terror. It's about two ships, one called The Terror, that get frozen in the ice during an arctic exploration for the Northwest Passage, and what the crews decide to do next. Historically, no one survived. Complete mission failure. But in the book and its show, there was effort, every step of the way, to survive. They did not go quietly into that good night, etc.

And here we have: another frozen ship. Captain Esmerelda Skall probably did not go quietly into that good night either. She had a crew, and they made choices when they faced their end. Did something attack them? Did they underestimate the ice? Was there a freak storm? Will whatever they faced come back around for Callum and Rayla?

The generationality in TDP's storytelling allows for the main characters to have access to the successes and failures of their parents, mentors, and guides. They rely on those skills and choices a lot, even when they lead them astray a bit - Claudia following Viren into Dark Magic, Ezran following Harrow into anger, Rayla following Runaan into coldbloodedness, Callum following Viren and Harrow into that sweaty grip on power's handle.

Whatever they find in the physical ship itself, it'll tell us a story, and that story will have a chance to affect Callum and Rayla in similar fashion to their authority figures of choice. Other adults made choices in this shipwreck - will our protagonists follow suit? Or step aside to avoid a similar fate?

And that's just the actual, physical ship itself. I'd say don't get me started on the metaphors but that's exactly why I made this post lmfao.

Ships. Ships.

I'm practically salivating for the layers in this specific episode already.

[sllowshow]

🧑‍🤝‍🧑 Colton

good salt of the earth people. teen marriage runs deep in this family, they were married right after their high school graduation. not yet pregnant, just sure of themselves. they were in love and when you're in love, you make this big crazy commitment in front of everyone who knew you when you were a baby at church and then you get a little house way out of town and have gorgeous girl boy twins. that's all you really can do.

their dad, jody (woody harrelson fc), has a hard way of loving. he's the kind of dad that kyleigh and colton could never really know beyond the context of him as their dad. like he wasn't trying to be friends with either of them. he loved them a lot but he didn't show it in that way, he's like more on the wavelength of. always really good about making kyleigh got her oil changed. helped colton build a new bookshelf before he moved out. i think kyleigh maybe got a little more sweetness out of him just because. well look at her that's a baby girl. but he and colton, regardless of the love between them, just had a very straightforward relationship. they talk about work, they talk about basketball, and they talk about kyleigh's kids (and eventually his. he was pretty relieved by that.)

their mom, tanya (kyra sedgwick fc) is THEE busy body church lady to end all busy body church ladies. she's a school teacher AND a sunday school teacher, and she's so nosey its insane. she's very much a part of small town politics. to that extent, she's also always up in her kid's business. i think she makes up for their dad's hands off approach. she can be a little blunt in the way she approaches things, she doesn't see the point in beating around the bush. i think she was also soooo tickled that kyleigh got teen pregnant by **** ***. like sorryyy but like that's the exact kind of family a mother like this is salivating to be apart of.

i think they're very take it as it comes people if that makes sense. like when kyleigh got pregnant, that was just a fact. i think their dad probably pulled some macho bullshit on w*de just because he felt like that was his job. scare the kid straight. and there was a brief panic of what will people think... until again she remembered it was actually a win socially. but ultimately that just became the fact of the situation. if she was going to do that, she was going to do that, so they let her go and be an adult. same with colton and school: they didn't get why he wanted to do all of that, but if that was what he wanted to do, that was his prerogative. enjoy the debt and the liberal arts master.

i think they lived in the house the twins grew up in forever. i think their dad hated visiting them in st louis, they certainly preferred hosting. their mom the kind of grandmother that's always posting memes about how a grandmothers love is the strongest force in the world but misspells the kids names in the post. their dad the kind of grandpa who just wants to sit on the couch and watch the most random war movie you've ever heard of at the family function. weirdly feel the need to call out their mom was obsessed with skye (like everyone else) and they both more than once commented on how tyson was "exhausting." like their mom would always be passing on advice on how to deal with a hyper child as if it worked. kyleigh is right there.

[hirukochan]

i’m sad that your tears finally soon to come to completion, but i’m glad that i was part of the waiting journey of this amazing fic to read our 2 protagonists finally get their happy ending!

buuuuut excited from your upcoming fic astrea x voldemort snippets, they got me salivating would you count this as reverse harem? 🫣 i’d love to read the dynamic differences of each voldemort from various of time frames, and to read them beefing over astrea or his horcruxes insulting voldemort like “you can do better that that” for losing the first war(i can see a little shit teenager tom riddle saying it), it makes sense that his worthy competitors are his own self/creation. will voldemort lose his shit over that? cause i love me some unhinged snake face voldemort😏

will you reveal in the tags a as voldemort wins au? and the type of ending? or are you going to keep the reader on their toes, letting the characters move on their own in your mind?

though i got a feeling this will be a merry-bad ending (fucked up tragedy from outsiders’ pov but the main characters themselves are happy)

Thank you so much! And what a journey it was! There were so many sub-plot I didn't see coming but that worked so well within the story I couldn't just *not* write them.

For the upcoming fic, yeah, I'd say it's reverse harem even it's technically the same person but...three times. There is sweet, innocent Astrea, sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle and Voldemort and then some time later Mr Gaunt joins into the fun as well. It'll be a dark fic. Voldemort isn't nice and his past selfs certainly weren't either.

Voldemort is pretty much the same as I write him always, very manipulative, charming and he can be 'nice' if he wants to.

Tom Riddle is certainly influenced by the years he has spend with Astrea already, I think consuming someone's soul leaves its traces lol. He is trapped in that moment right after killing Myrtle with the Basilik and creating his first Horcrux. So he's ofc also emotionally stuck at sixteen.

Mr Gaunt, the locket, was created some time before Voldemort's downfall, I put it somewhere between 1965 and 1970 personally. He is older, has a more 'refined' taste in cruelty and was at the height of his power before his 'death'. He still has his human features but he isn't quite human anymore. Kinda uncanny valley style. Astrea can feel that something is off and it scares her.

All Voldemorts find her fear entertaining but all Voldemorts have their own aspirations and all Voldemorts are jealous and wildly possessive - even towards each other. I am very much looking forward to writing them interact and exploring different facets of the same character. Voldemort is such an interesting character!

They are each unhinged in their own way! And Tom, because he has already spend so much time by Astrea's side, already considers her 'his' so that'll result in some delicious conflict.

I am not sure yet if the other Horcruxes make an appearance too. Nagini is there but her Horcrux is different, it doesn't seem to really manipulate the world around her like the diary does - same goes for Harry. I like the idea of the diadem, cup and ring joining but idk if I could make more than three believable and yet different versions of Voldemort. Also the whole name thing would get confusing. Thomas, Riddle and Marvolo perhaps but eh.

The fic is both canon-divergent and a Voldemort-wins-au. The diary never reaches Hogwarts so the entire second year wouldn't happen like it does in the novels and the adults act...more intelligent lol xD Astrea herself also influences several events.

I have an idea how the fic will end but that might still change, I can see this fic getting potentially quite long 😅 So I will for now not say much about that other than that I personally don't like bad endings full of misery and death and hopelesness.

[videcoeur]

Akane begins to play with the fur lining of Crocodile's coat in her absentmindedness, her index finger and thumb tracing and fiddling with its softness.

@muselexum

"Stop it"

The reply was dry, but not completely devoid of emotions. It was clear that he was holding back, especially with the way his gaze avoided hers. He could bark an order, but he didn't have the spine to try and win a staredown against her. She knew exactly what she was doing, and here he was, about ready to come undone with how much he's missed her.

It hadn't been that long, either. He'd left her on the ship and said he would be back within the week- but it instead took almost 3, because troubles came and prevented a swift return. Crocodile was pretty sure he would return to an empty boat, not counting his crew. He expected her to have left, to have found a better crew to sail with. And yet, after three weeks, there she was.

They'd had a drink or two, and they barely exchanged a few words. She did try to converse with him, but Crocodile's secretive nature made it hard for him to open up about anything. His sentences were short, even though his tongue yearned to spell so much more words to her.

Never give more than you can handle, is that right?

And yet, as she had gotten closer, he could feel his heart speed up in his chest. His reptilian golden eyes locked on her briefly as her fingers dragged along the fur lining his coat. She was so small, and yet so strong. To be standing there in front of him, touching him as if she had the right to. Even Nico Robin, in her several years working for him, never took that privilege for granted. The very few times she did, it earned her more than a scowl and a threat.

And with Akane? He only asked her to stop, his order less authoritative than he wanted it. How could he say no to her? Every time he did, his heart ached, as if punishing him for lying to himself. Something he thought he'd gotten used to, but again, she was proving him wrong.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" Another long, painful drag on his cigar, the dryness of its smoke rolling on his tongue. Still not enough to prevent it from salivating at the sight of her lips. How he longed to kiss her -

"Should I just give you my coat?" His tone changed, turning almost derisive. Pointed insults should get her off him, even if his eyes looked hungrier than ever. Without even noticing, he'd reached up with his only hand, grabbing her wrist to stop her from touching him any further.

His thumb traced the side of hers idly, but only for a moment. Then, his traits hardened again, and he let go of her hand.

A sigh escaped his lips, and Croc pinched the bridge of his nose. She was a headache in its sweetest form, that's for sure. He looked down at her face again, and those very kissable lips. Crocodile felt his throat tighten and the edge of his cheekbone tingle. No, he was not blushing and won't be. The scar across his face makes the hardened skin pretty hard to fill with blood anyway.

But inside, he knows he's falling. And he knows what awaits him.

Another night where sleep would be trouble to find.

[4toldbygyromancy]

Six Months

Gen fic, Vincent and Claudia, mentions of original character and romantic (?) relationship with said oc. Lots of bickering. I love writing these two argue. 919 words.

“You do not recognize her holy calling. She is being guided by the hand of her father to shepherd the Holy Mother back home!” 

It was the same tango. The same words, the same theatrics, the yelling, the insults, the same as they had been for almost a year. 

Of course, they hadn’t gotten along before that. Their relationship had soured pretty quickly once Claudia realized that Vincent had ulterior motives in handling as big a financial project as revitalizing the Order.

But for the past year they had been coming back to a singular person. Whether she was a scapegoat for their grievances or whether they were both truly enmeshed with her fate wasn’t known… and it didn’t really matter, either way. It gave them something else to hate each other over.

“I also think that God brought her here,” Vincent lifted a hand, smiling, anything to get Claudia to stop talking. “Not entirely sure about the dead father part, but I’m in a good mood… I’ll humor it, today. It’s fine. You think she can find Alessa? Go for it, by all means, with my blessing.” 

Vincent was tired, his eyes ached from nights of research, and Claudia’s voice droned on and on. If she could be placated, maybe she’d shut up. Maybe he would have an hour to himself, a sweet hour of peace. 

“All I’m asking,” Vincent continued. “All that I’m asking for is six months… maybe a year. Give me that time, Claudia, and then you can do whatever it is you have planned. Find Alessa, bring her back into the fold, find your happily ever after, whatever. Just give me that time.” 

 Vincent leaned back in his chair and picked up his desk calendar, thumbing through its coffee-stained pages.

“Six months? A year?” Claudia wrinkled her nose in disgust. “How can you wait when God is so close to being returned to us?”

“Alessa is, what, fourteen right now?”

“Fifteen,” Claudia emphasized the fact with venom in her voice. “She is fifteen years old. It is time, Vincent, we must have her returned to us. Can you imagine how frightened she must be? It’s time for her to come home!”

“How frightened she is? Or how frightened you are?” Vincent didn’t even look up from his calendar, letting out a sigh between pursed lips. “Six months. That will give you plenty of time to prepare, right? You don’t want to rush into something as important than this–”

“You talk of rushing!” Claudia threw her hands up. “Monroe’s daughter has barely been with us for a year and you’ve already–”

“I’ve already done what, Claudia?” Vincent looked up then, matching her look of disgust with a smile. “What have I already done?” 

“You are leading her down a path of sin, Vincent. Away from God’s sacred light!” 

“Don’t rant about sin to me, Claudia,” Vincent’s voice was sharp and quick, a spark of anger finally entering his words. “You’re the one who wants to fling an innocent woman into your machinations just to pursue a theory that might not even be true! Get your head out of your Heavenly delusions for one minute and look at what is here right now.” 

Vincent punctuated his sentence by standing up and gesturing at the office they were standing in. Financial records, samples of unpublished books, artifact catalogs that would make the Historical Society salivate, all of the work that Vincent had poured his adult life into. 

“The Order is here, right at this moment. The Order that is sharing Her light with Silent Hill, preaching the very words that you base your entire existence around. It is thriving, Claudia! Do you want to throw all our hard work away on a chance? You might be fine with that, but I will not let you. I’m not telling you to wait these six months for me, Claudia. I’m telling you to do it for the Order.”

“And what will happen in six months?” Claudia scoffed, shaking her head. “It’s the Monroe fortune, isn’t it? What do you plan on doing to her?”

“‘To’ her?” Vincent put a hand to his chest, a look of faux bashfulness crossing his face. “That’s rich coming from you, Claudia, after–” 

He was interrupted by the phone on his desk ringing. He gave Claudia a sickeningly sweet smile before picking it up. “Vincent speaking. … I see. That was quicker than I expected. I’m on my way.” 

Vincent hung up the phone and gave Claudia a glance before nodding his head. “Sorry to cut this meeting short, but I have to pick up something.”

Claudia scoffed again. “Another trinket, Vincent?”

“I prefer the term ‘religious artifact’. In fact, I owe you my thanks. If you hadn’t pursued the Dagger, it would have taken me much longer to acquire this.” 

“The Dagger? Are you speaking of the Dagger of Melchior? I ‘pursued’ it, as you so put it, to ensure that it can never be used against God again,” said Claudia.

“Then, you’ll be relieved to know that this will also never be used against Her again.” Vincent opened the door and held it, waiting for Claudia to make her exit. She stared at him for a moment, the skin above her eyes furrowing. Finally, she silently walked past him. 

“Six months, Claudia, that’s all I’m asking. Then you can send her on whatever whimsical adventure your heart desires.” 

Vincent’s grating laugh made Claudia’s ears burn as he closed the door behind her.

[sugamamacustard]

Paparazzi

Pairing: Alpha! Toru Oikawa x Omega! Reader, Alpha! Atsumu Miya x Omega! Reader, Alpha! Yuji Terushima x Omega! Reader

Genre: little angst, ends in fluff

Request:Allow me to be chaotic for a minute 😌 Since Oikawa, Atsumu, and Terushima have fangirls, I’d love to request Hc’s or a small drabble of them crushing on a cute new fem!student who takes no shit and throws hands at the fangirls whenever they harass her (She tries to be nice to them at first and explain that she isn’t trying to steal their idol but you could only be so kind to rabid fangirls). The only cliche thing here is Y/N doesn’t immediately crush on the guys so the fangirls dislike her for how casual and nice she is to them but I’m just tired of Y/N never standing up to them or at least needing to be defended by the idol. This Y/N is friendly and kind to others but would punch someone in the throat with a smile on her face.Let’s say Y/N is partnered with the guys on an assignment and the fangirls see them together a lot and try to intimidate Y/N by ganging up on her or embarrassing her, so Y/N just decks one of them in the face with a smile before continuing the conversation with the guy like nothing happened. The poor guys can’t decide if they’re terrified or aroused but Y/N’s like “Put these maggots in their place or I’ll put em in the hospital. Do what you will with this promise 😃”

Author’s Note: I wanna read more stuff about the fangirls but I don’t know where to find it. :( Is it Tooru or Toru?

Requests: Closed!

Buy me a coffee?

Trigger Warning: Fighting, mentions of blood.

Toru Oikawa

➵ Honestly, we all know his fangirls are rabid. They are mean and cruel, and honestly its a wonder none of them have been like...arrested.

➵ You had heard horror stories from your cousin. She was the manager of the volleyball team and explained her and her, now, alpha had to deal with one that went straight up feral.

➵ God, you sometimes wondered how no one had snapped on them yet.

➵ They were everywhere you were too! Their so called idol was in your class and they followed him everywhere.

➵ You didn’t even see what the big deal was about. His best friend was way hotter in your humble, correct, opinion.

➵ You had to shove your way through crowds for every single one of your classes. It was painful at this point.

➵ Oikawa was no help either, egging them on by constantly flirting with you.

➵ You kept your head up high though, rebutting his constant flirting with snarky and snide remarks.

➵ Honestly the perfect girl in his humble and correct opinion.

➵ Of course, he always ditched his fan girls the moment he caught whiff of your salivating scent.

➵ They weren't happy about that.

➵ They also weren't very happy when Toru left his normally late practice, purring he had a study session with you for an upcoming project.

➵ Yeah, that was the start of Armageddon.

➵"Hey!"

➵Groaning, you prepped yourself for the onslaught of useless spats that came with the onslaught of his fangirls. Plastering on an all too fake smile.

➵"Yes, hello? I sure hope you aren't talking to me like that."

➵You really said :))) Test me bitches

➵"What do you think you're doing?"

➵"Trying to pass my English class?"

➵The answer seemed to anger the beta who tried cornering you.

➵ Her arm raised and swung and with all expecting outcomes, one would expect a smack to ring out.

➵ Oikawa did at least, as he had caught the tail end of the argument coming to find you as you were late for your meet-up. And you were never late

➵ He moved to try and break the 'fight' up, only to stand shocked when he saw you, the beta's arm caught in your tight grip with the same smile on your face.

➵ "I really hope you weren't trying to hit me just now." You purred, squeezing the wrist in your grip until the beta was whining under you.

➵ When you let go you shoved her away with a grin still on your face before moving on, passing Oikawa who stood shocked.

➵"Keep those fangirls in check, Oikawa. Wouldn't want their pretty faces getting hurt." You beamed, skipping off to the library.

➵ The alpha had to take a minute in the bathroom before catching up to you :)

Yuji Terushima

➵ OKAY THIS MAN-

➵ I feel like his fangirls would try and get close to you rather than get you away from Terushima.

➵ Like they would use you to get to him.

➵ If that makes sense.

➵ Of course you knew about this, your brain is super wrinkled.

➵ They would try to befriend you to get close to the alpha that seemed to hang off of you.

➵ You were in-training to be the new co-manager and almost immediately Terushima had latched onto you like a leech.

➵ Scenting you and preening you, making sure you made it to each of your classes on time.

➵ He just liked spending time with you okay?!!

➵ Anyway, so he knew that his fangirls presented a bit of an issue, especially when he tried sifting who actually liked him, not his persona

➵Was he worried? No-

➵ At first he was a little worried, but you proved him wrong like you often did.

➵ You had been doing your manager thing, cleaning up stray balls, setting aside flats, adjusting the net height, etc... when it happened.

➵ An omega a little taller than yourself had ran into the gym, angry and snarling. She had walked right up to you, making you furrow a brow.

➵ "I am sick and tired of this! I've been nothing but nice to you," One of her fingers waggled in your face. "And it's gotten me nowhere! You are just as useless as I thought you were and I'm so fucking sick of it.

➵"I'm sorry you feel that way-"

➵ "No your fucking not, you fake ass-" Her hand raised and swung, but you caught her wrist in your tight grasp, quickly using your other hand to smack her.

➵ Yuji and the rest of the team watched in awe (And maybe arousal for a certain faux blond) as the omega collapsed on the ground, holding her cheek.

➵ "Just because you and your dumbass friends thought your plan would work does not mean it's my responsibility to ensure it does." You sneered, snarling down at her to prove your place in the pack. "And it never will be. Know your fucking place."

➵ Yuji followed you like a lost dog as you left, making sure you didn't pick another fight while the others helped the other girl.

➵ He had no choice otherwise his teammates would tease him relentlessly for his lovesick alpha

Atsumu Miya

➵ His fangirls 1v1 Oikawa's fangirls.

➵Straight up, like it would be a blood bath.

➵ But you weren't scared. You were and are a bad bitch.

➵ Probably why you had Atsumu begging for attention tbh

➵ Love bullying is his love language and you can pry this from my cold dead hands

➵ You always, without a doubt, give him a hard time (Teasingly of course) and it drives him bonkers.

➵ Like you don't take shit from anybody

➵And having you paired with him for this upcoming project was a dream come true.

➵ It was a simple project but it meant he got to spend time with you!

➵you!

➵ Of course, he feared what his fangirls would do to you but he had a feeling you'd be okay no matter what.

➵ He'd be there as much as he could, and hopefully that would deter the fangirls from trying anything.

➵Right? Flawless logic despite what Osamu says

➵ ANYWAY-

➵He thought this to be flawless until you proved him otherwise.

➵ You had began working on the project since Atsumu was running a bit late (He texted you a teacher needed to talk to him, and you understood)

➵ What you didn't understand was the horde of angry betas, omegas and alphas approaching you. About six in total.

➵ "Stay away from Atsumu." One of them, a red haired alpha, snapped, slamming a hand on the lunch room table.

➵ "Look, I already have a feeling I know where this is going, but I'm not interested. I just want to finish the project-"

➵"Likely story!" A beta from the back yelled.

➵The alpha in front of you grimaced, snapping her fingers as an omega dutifully placed a milk carton in her hand.

➵ "Seems we need a little more than words to get it through your fat head." the milk carton was opened and raised over your head.

➵ You rolled your eyes before the carton began tipping. When the first drops of cold banana milk spilled onto your head you acted.

➵ Atsumu had run in only to see you grab the wrist above your head, push it so the milk whipped back at your assailant while your other hand landed a crisp smack on the alpha's cheeks.

➵ The group, Atsumu included, stood stunned as you gathered your bag, pulling out a change of clothes and moving to go change.

➵Atsumu felt his heart stop when you placed a hand on his shoulder, a sweet grin on your face.

➵ "Keep your fangirls in check, 'Tsumu, or I'll have to do it for you." You beamed before moving to go change.

➵ He only found himself nodding absentmindedly, trying to fight the red creeping up his neck.

➵ "Respectively step on me."

➵"I can still here you, 'Tsumu."

[refiwrites]

2AM

Steve Rogers x Gender neutral! Reader

A/N: Okay I missed Steve okay? And I happen to come across this prompt generator and decided to try it out. And I also miss Chris Evans.

Summary: Y/N getting up in the middle of the night to make a snack and accidentally waking up Steve because they didn't stop the microwaves obnoxious beeping in time.

Word count: 994

Warning/s: One swear word? Other than that, none, just fluff!

You couldn’t stop tossing and turning in your bed and it sucked, you were pretty sure that its either too hot or some sleep demon is just not letting you succumb to sleep. You sigh and carefully discard the blanket that was keeping you warm. You pursed your lips together, rubbing your eyes.  

With squinted eyes looking for the clock that displayed its numbers in huge bright red, it reads 2:36 AM.

You took a couple of blinks and squinted more to make sure what you read was right.

’2AM? Seriously?’

But speaking of, sometimes you are guilty of messing up your sleeping schedule and occasionally find yourself either waking up too early or rather very late. You yawn silently, hand coming up to cover your mouth on instinct. You sigh, looking over to your side to spot Steve sleeping soundly, moonlight from the window illuminating his face perfectly. Your heart melts at the sight, you still wonder how could anyone look so perfect sleeping like that? Honestly, that should be a crime. Not until you noticed that you literally just spent minutes staring at him blankly, watching his chest heave up and down sends a wave of calm throughout you.  

Nights like these were rare, you were wishing in all of your heart that nothing could disrupt this moment. A smile emerged on your lips; you were about to go to sleep again but the worst-case scenario happened.

Your stomach grumbled. Okay well maybe it wasn’t the “worst-case” scenario, you didn’t even notice you were hungry in the first place. Your brows furrowed as your stomach protested again. Still, you know what they say, you can’t sleep with an empty stomach.

Aaand now that’s where you wound yourself into, getting off the bed and feet padding towards the kitchen. You spend the few seconds heading to the kitchen praying that there’s still food left. You didn’t bother turning on the light since the moon was out and bright, that’s all the light you needed.

Succeeding in finding food to help ease your hunger for the night, you popped it in the microwave. Setting up the heat and time. But your stomach was getting impatient as it protested every moment that passed. You leaned on the counter, watching the time left until you get to munch down on your food.

The time was already halfway through when your bladder suddenly decided that it wants to go to the bathroom. You debated holding it in until the microwave beeped as to not wake up Steve since you knew he was a light sleeper. News flash, you couldn’t hold it any longer as you were rushing to the bathroom the minute after.

You sighed of relief as you finished but it was too late.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Bee-

Your eyes widened as you stumbled your way out of the bathroom, spewing whisper of curses here and there. You finally reached the microwave and pulled it open before it could utter out another annoying beep. You held onto the handle with a sigh accompanied with the bow of your head, giving yourself a mental pat on the back for a job well done.

Standing straight and taking the freshly heated food from the microwave, you placed it on the counter, mouth salivating already at the fresh scent followed by your stomach arguing with you again.  

Grabbing some utensils as you couldn’t wait to eat already, you turned around you swore your whole soul took a screenshot from the big figure standing in the doorway of your bedroom which you almost; key word almost threw the fork at it before you realized the figure belonged to Steve’s.

“Holy fucking-” placing a hand on your chest and gathering your composure you sucked in a deep breath.

“I see you’re awake and..hungry?” Steve’s chuckle echoed and you sent a glare his way yet you dismissed it after feeling guilty that you woke him up.  

You nodded and he made his way over to you.  

“..Sorry for waking you up though, I’m seriously considering getting those microwaves that only beeps once when it's done so we couldn’t wake each other up if this happ-”

“Hey, hey (Y/N), it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Besides, I think I haven’t seen anyone run for their life like that just to reach the microwave before it woke someone up. Gotta give you the A for effort.” He laughs as you playfully punched his arm which you sure he didn’t even feel as he continued to laugh.

You laughed as well, watching his face as it contorted into happiness just from what you did.  

“Next time, remind me to time myself when I do that.” You joked as he laughed even harder.  

You rolled your eyes and turned around, grabbing the plate of food and already taking a most awaited sweet bite out of it, letting out almost a moan in which you missed the light blush on Steve’s cheeks.  

Arms snaked around your waist from behind as his tall figure loomed over you now, squeezing to hug you as you ate. You felt giddy as you leaned back against Steve and continued eating, him staying silent and just observing you, laying a kiss on the crown of your head.  

“You hungry?” Asking him, you turned around to meet him again, arms gracefully encaging your waist again.  

“I could use a bite.” Steve said before placing another kiss to your forehead.  

You nodded, slicing him a piece and holding it up to him which he responded by opening his mouth and taking a bite. He nodded, savoring the taste and letting out a “Wow, that’s good.” when he finished.

You two stayed like that for what seemed like hours until you both finished sharing the snack and exchanging stories for how both of your days went. This was one of the nights you knew would be etched into your memory forever, yet you weren’t complaining.  

[gothicprep]

i think it's pretty obvious per my posts that i'm a big fan of breaking bad & better call saul (the abqniverse?). anyway, like, someone in a group chat i'm in sent this chart of the ratings per episode of both shows. they're basically inverse of one another.

there are a couple of reasons for this, i'm guessing: the first of which being that breaking bad aired from 2008 to 2013, and this was before the streaming boom. the second being that saul is a more character driven story, while breaking bad is more event driven, so enjoying breaking bad doesn't necessarily translate to enjoying saul.

i also think that saul fumbled the premiere a bit, hence why there was such a big dropoff in viewership after it – like, tuco salamanca is literally in the first episode, and i was a bit worried when i first watched it that it was going to be fan service-y, as i'm sure a lot of other people were. but tuco turned out to be more of a guest star than anything, and the scene was functionally a means of introducing jimmy to nacho.

it's a shame too bc imo, saul is by far the superior show. i feel like my main beef with breaking bad is that there were too many characters in it, and a lot of their arcs are either incomplete or they just aren't characterized very well.

the whole thing with bb is that, while walt is absolutely the most egregious out of all the white/schrader adults, they all are guilty of doing illegal shit when it supports some personal end for them – hank having his distaste for due process, skylar turning a blind eye and helping ted cook his books even though she knows something is off (plus her later involvement with walt's meth shenanigans), and marie shoplifting as a bad coping skill.

but marie is, like, really underdeveloped. and it sucks because understanding marie is important to understanding the show as a whole – she steals shoes after complaining that her work sneakers are ugly and being embarrassed by a rude retail girl at the store, she goes to open houses and lies about who she is (and steals things because, like, of course she does) after hank starts lashing out at her because of his ptsd. i don't know what the baby tiara thing was all about, but i have this dumb pet theory that marie and hank can't have kids and this was some kind of power move related to that – it's not lost on me that marie lies about having children every time she makes shit up about herself during her real estate klepto bender.

she's sort of a low-stakes version of walt's fractured ego & dissatisfaction and she, by my interpretation, serves as a foil that highlights just how silly the heisenberg shit really is.

the white/schrader family serves the narrative as an exploration of "why do some people become heisenberg while others don't". but, like, as much as i love the show, i think it really fumbles the execution of this. or my read could be totally wrong, i'm not sure. either way, the pieces are all there, but they don't always explore them fully.

there's also a joke in some of the sillier abqniverse fan communities of calling walt jr/flynn "breakfast" because the overwhelming majority of his scenes are him eating breakfast lmfao. he's just kind of, like, There.

the character dynamics in bcs, though, are sooooo good. the relationships between jimmy and chuck, jimmy and kim, gus and hector, mike and nacho are all well-developed and textured. i love how lalo's audacity and gus's cold cruelty play against each other. and bcs uses the tragedy of inevitability to its advantage – we know almost all of the characters (barring jimmy/saul/gene... we'll see what happens with kim and howard) are dead in the breaking bad timeline. but overwhelmingly it's just sad to see. it's dramatic tension of a different kind.

plus, bcs establishes just how terrifying gus really is. if you liked him in bb, you'll be salivating in bcs.

i don't know, i think it's criminally neglected even though it's critically acclaimed. my child will watch better call saul.

[shinkun]

bloom: part 2/2 (18+)

aizawa shouta | eraserhead x student!reader

[ read part 1 here ]

word count: 1.8k

genre: alpha/omega, m/f, afab reader, student/teacher, smut with little plot

A late-blooming student finds herself trapped in the school, yearning for someone to ease her unfamiliar, painful urges.

warnings: 18+, smut, omegaverse, rough sex

notes: Thank you for the support on my first piece! Make sure you read it before starting this one. 

-----

You couldn’t tell if his words were supposed to be patronizing, or if it was just the product of being a full-time instructor, showering you in praises to assure you that you were doing things correctly. Either way, it put your mind at ease and although it was hard to believe given his brooding persona, it was very endearing. 

Aizawa watched as your chest rhythmically rose up and then fell with each guided breath as you began to lean up to catch up with your surroundings. He couldn’t help but feel enamoured by this new-found beauty you emanated that he hadn’t quite seen before, though it was always in front of him. The way your plush lips parted in the center, the way your eyes so innocently and curiously darted around the room, the way your breasts fell gracefully across your chest, so puffy and swollen from the hormones that proceeded to contaminate the space. You noticed a gentle blush creep across his face that hadn’t revealed itself before. 

You took this reaction as an invitation to lunge towards the man. The flame in your core that had temporarily been dulled, had already reignited and was raring to go tenfold. It felt as though something primal had awakened in you, causing your mind to blur and the only way you could find relief, or come back to reality, was to catch that intoxicating, pleasurable high once more. 

You locked your arms around Aizawa’s neck as your mouth immediately meshed with his. You closed your eyes and bit down on his bottom lip before exploring his mouth with your eager tongue. His tongue returned the favour, violating your mouth with thick saliva, spreading the remaining flavours of your slick into your own. It was hot and so sloppy. 

Aizawa didn’t hesitate before readjusting himself on the bench so that both his legs hung over one side. He grabbed you by the waist with him; his large, calloused hands sinking it’s tips into your sides, but refusing to depart from your mouth. Hot little breaths, fluttered against his face while he effortlessly picked you up and perched you on his lap. You clumsily fiddled with the bottom of his shirt, not wanting to abandon his lips for even a second, but reluctantly parting to attempt to pull it off. He dragged his head back for a moment, that devilish smirk still finding its way to his face before aiding you in ridding him of the top. 

Your mind caught up with yourself, if only for a moment, relishing in the man’s physique. Eraserhead’s hero costume did such a good job of disguising your professor as this lanky, grieving figure, ready to pass out at a moment’s notice; of course if he was going to wear the title of hero not only did he have to dress the part, he would have the body of one too. You placed your hand on his chest, gracefully trailing your hands downward; your digits inspecting every ab, every scar, the way that trail of fur lead from his belly down passed his belt. Oh... You paused. 

“Ohhhh, no ya don’t.” His eyes narrowed in on you. “Don’t get all shy on me now, sweetheart. Isn’t this what you needed me for?” He teased, lacing his fingers through yours to force your hand to descend farther, causing it to rub up against the stiff, girthy rod pulsating beneath his trousers. You gulped. Any patience Aizawa had pent up for you was long gone by now. “Undo it.” He commanded, eyeballing the utility belt, trailing around his waist. Without hesitation you complied; a subtle tremble flowing through your fingers as you fidgeted with the buckle. The weight of it pulled through the loops of his pants and fell to the floor with a heavy, thud. “Go on…” He persuaded. You let out an eager sigh as you continued, sliding your pretty fingers along the edge of his waistband before pulling it towards you. It didn’t take long for his length to escape from its fabric cage on it’s own accord, his member dripping and twitching with thick, translucent precum. 

Aizawa planted his hands on your bare ass, gripping your cheeks with some force to ease you even closer to him. His head cocked back slightly when he felt your naked, well-prepped entrance, slide up against his shaft. His fingers pressed hard into your flesh, as he released a few impatient pants from behind clenched teeth, the feeling of your moist folds rubbing against him made him quake. 

This unfamiliar reception escaping his body made your core melt even further. You couldn’t wait anymore and quite frankly, neither could he. You delicately planted a hand around the base of his cock, the other on his stiff abs to keep you steady, curling your fingers around the hot flesh, before slowly straddling his length. Aizawa’s fingers dug into you in anticipation, you knew there would be marks left there later. You rose up on your knees, aligning the top of his reddened head with your entry. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you hesitantly began taking it in. 

“Fuuuuck..k..” Aizawa let out a long drawn out groan as you sunk on top of his member, relishing in the way your tight, heated walls were able to engulf him. The guttural sigh of approval exhaling from his mouth made you shudder more than anything he’d done up until this point. He bit down on his lip as his hands worked their way up your spine, one above the other, blissfully pulling you down against him; his rut now beginning to overtake his mind. He pulled you against him so that your chests were touching, caging you against him with his muscular arms.

A shriek escaped from your mouth as his cock prodded deep into you suddenly; the position you were in causing it to violate parts that you’d never been able to reach. It was thick and painful yet somehow equally exhilarating. On any normal day you were sure his cock would’ve felt like it was ripping you in half, but this heat made him slide right into you almost effortlessly, as if your dripping cunt was made for him. He held his position for a moment, his hesitation making you squirm impatiently beneath him. 

“Haa..zawa…” was the only thing you were able to stammer out in protest as your little hands explored his back, reaching up, twirling and pulling through his dark locks, nails baring into the skin on his back. You couldn’t keep them still and were only able to whine and pant in plea for him to keep moving. It was almost torturous, being stretched out around his girth, feeling the heat and the occasional twitch from it melt your insides but not being allowed to move. God, he loved to tease you.

He gave your temple a soft but reassuring kiss before pumping his hips up and into you, slowly but rhythmically. You grasped him, a little less frantically now, as he finally began to cradle you into him. 

Aizawa’s breath began to pick up in time with his pace, pulling out a little more of his member before thrusting it back in each time. The noises coming from your lower halves were lewd and wet, echoing throughout the vacant locker room. 

“H..How’re you doing, baby?” He asked between grunts, his pelvis making contact even harder than before. 

You were basically salivating by this point, his cock curing those aching pains that once plagued your gut. You’d barely noticed that his voice acknowledged you, you were so clouded by your overwhelmed senses. 

“G..ood..it’s so good…” Your voice belted out amidst shaky whines, eyes rolled back. “Good.” He grumbled while quickening his stride even further, skin viciously slapping against skin. His hands trailed down your body, stroking down your silky, sweat covered skin before settling beneath your thighs. His hands gripped on to them as he suddenly rose up to his feet, using his height as leverage to drill into you even further. Almost instinctively, your legs locked around his midriff, aiding in holding you in place. It didn’t take long before you felt an intense heat build up in your stomach, making your insides flutter. Shouta huffed as your messy walls clenched around him, sensing the edge of your climax. He kept his consistent cadence, slamming into your tight hole, as your body arched in his arms. 

“‘Atta girl, show me how much you love it.. Sing for me.” He praised, his own breath becoming harder to keep under control. Your toes curled as you let out a series of orgasmic squeals, the powerful rush of pleasure overtaking you. Aizawa leaned in, his scruffy chin rubbing against you as he littered your neck with gentle kisses, never once slowing down. “Mhnn…” He groaned up against your throat as you panted inconsistently, riding it out as cum slid down your backside. 

“..Now it’s your turn to make Sensei feel good. You think you can handle it?” You swallowed hard, barely having recovered from the sensation that just shook through your body. You were already overwhelmed by his cock sloshing around your newly sensitive pussy, but refused to decline and could feel he wasn’t close behind. You merely let out a quick nod as you buried your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling his intoxicating sweat mixed musk for support. 

Aizawa turned to his side, shoving you up against the wall; your frame hitting it a bit too carelessly. Your fingers tangled through his raven hair, grasping on to it and his back as if for dear life, his hips relentlessly bucking up against you. 

That’s when you noticed it, the way it felt like your entrance was having trouble keeping up with him. The bottom of his cock was beginning to swell causing you to wince and writh beneath him. “I warned you.” He could feel you cringe as the bulbous base of his dick forced itself inside. You let out an unexpected gasp at the pressure, trying to make room for his feral member. Shouta pinned you against his pelvis before relieving himself with a final few pumps, precipitously allowing his cock to paint the inside of your swollen snatch, locking you both in place. 

Everything burned, and tingled, and before you knew it this feeling of extreme fullness made you escape to your own final climax; his cum making your head spin as another shudder and wail slipped from between your lips. You shivered in his grasp as each other's juices mixed deep within you, occasionally bubbling and dripping down your thighs. 

“Mmm…” He gently stroked your scalp while supporting you with one arm, his mouth creeping up beside your ear. “We’re going to be like this for a while.” The air from his voice alone causing a chill to ripple through your body and a soft whimper to emerge in reply as you sunk into his chest.

[imjeralee]

can you maybe write for Childe, Zhongli, Link, and Human!Revali where theyre immortal or live for a very long time, and one day their s/o gets hurt and dies in their arms? then years later they stumble across them again, theyre a different person but they have the same soul. yet.. they dont remember them right away...but then they fall in love again? im feeling angsty, apologies

Hi anon! thanks for the ask and sorry for the delay!! I’m afraid I wasn’t able to write a Link and Human!Revali headcanon for the time being (I will write and post Link and Revali HCs later, sorry!!!!!) but I was able to write something for Childe and Zhongli for now so here goes.

PS they’re really long so it’s below the cut. I might as well have written some fanfics on this since they’re pretty much stories XD

Childe: 

WARNINGS for violence/blood here -

When he’s dispatched the last of your attackers, he rushes back to your side and finds you lying on the ground. At first he thinks you’re playing as you usually tease each other, and so he drops beside you with a hefty sigh before he scoops you up and into his arms.

“Hey, you good? Don’t tell me those guys gave you a run for your money,” he says, grinning. He’s out of breath, sweating slightly.

When you don’t reply, however, at first he thinks you’re still teasing but it’s quickly replaced with concern. He knows something is wrong. You let out a pained moan and close your eyes, murmuring his name weakly. His playful, jovial attitude dissolves into panic. Childe sits up properly with you in his arms, giving you a little shake and asking what’s wrong.

As he turns you round in his arms, he notices you’re bleeding profusely from a grievous wound. No longer smiling, panic takes ahold of him. “What happened? No, no, no, this can’t be. This can’t be happening. Stay with me Y/N, stay with me.” Planting his hands on the sides of your face, making you look at him. “Look at me. That’s it. Just keep looking at me. You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.” He keeps chanting that over and over again as he glances around the area frantically before he attempts to lift you off the ground but you stop him. It’s too late.

Instead, you merely hold his hand firmly and he entwines your fingers together and you see the fear and despair in his eyes. You tell him you’re not going to make it but he shakes his head. 

“Everything’s gonna be okay, you hear? Teucer’s waiting for you to take him to the seaside, remember? We were…we were meant to go to the seaside together.” 

As he speaks, he holds you tightly and he feels your laborious breathing against his chest and he keeps talking until you go still and quiet in his arms and he stops. At first, he can’t bear to bring himself to look at you and holds you firmly against his chest, resting his chin atop your head, closing his eyes. 

Then he begins to weep.

A broken man, Childe vows revenge, swearing vengeance on your killers. In a blind rage, he spends countless of years hunting them down one by one. It’s not hard to achieve considering he has all the time in the world. His most recent excursion leads him to the final ringleader who lives in a citadel. Childe kills all the guards and everyone else who stands in his way until he reaches his target. At first, the man fights him but Childe overpowers him easily.

“Who the hell are you?” the man screams.

Childe rips off his mask to reveal his face. “Remember me?” He snarls.

The man goes wide-eyed and tries to run away with Childe in pursuit, but before Childe can reach him, the man has grabbed a random person in his way and thrown them onto Childe’s path as a human shield.

“Father!?” Childe hears the person exclaiming in shock as they’re roughly shoved towards Childe’s direction. Childe realises the man has grabbed their kid to use as the human shield. 

Disgusted, Childe is about to deal the finishing blow until he catches them mid fall and their gazes meet; those eyes. They remind him of….you

And something deep inside him screams STOP! And Childe is briefly brought to a halt in his rampage. He doesn’t recognise them, but he feels your soul within.

What the frick? You had reincarnated into this bastard’s kid??? He’s shocked for a brief moment and a few guards who are still alive manage to sneak up on him. Childe returns to action mode and fights off his attackers, grabs you, and whilst he doesn’t get the chance to kill his target, he escapes the citadel with you in his clutches and you’re left screaming for help.

You’ve been abducted by Childe and he’s taken you to the forest where he pins you against the tree and forces you to look at him, left and right, up and down. Whilst you plead and beg for mercy with your eyes squeezed shut and knees quaking, he lets go of you harshly. He doesn’t want to believe it’s you, but there’s no doubt about it. He senses your soul within. He recognises your eyes. You’ve reincarnated. 

“Show me.” He demands.

“…What?”

“Your birthmark. The one on your shoulder?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have any-”

“Don’t lie to me.”

He turns you round and pulls on your shirt to expose the back of your shoulder where your birthmark is. Whilst you wonder how the hell he knows you have a mark, he lets go of you then and you quickly pull your clothes back on properly, face red. What the hell!!! 

Childe just staring at you in brief shock. 

“It’s you. It’s really you.”

A lot of emotions are going through him right now; he’s relived and so damn happy, at the same time he’s like confused and angry by the whole situation

But the first thing he does is hug you tightly.

And the first thing you do is grab the nearest rock and bludgeon his head with it.

He’s taken aback and lets go of you, stumbling backwards with a bleeding head but he easily shakes off your assault and throws the rock to the side and you’re terrified, inching away as he goes, “Did you think that would kill me? I’ll let you in a little secret; I’m immortal.” 

Not really sure who/what you’re dealing with, you flee but you hear him yelling, “You can run but you can’t hide!”

And as you toss a glance over your shoulder, he’s still standing there for a split second before he promptly vanishes from his spot. This weird cat and mouse game ensues with Childe stalking you through the forest and you’re either trying to run or hide until he finally catches you and pins you against the ground. You can’t escape.

“Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you,” he murmurs, but you don’t believe him. “Just…stay with me for a few days, okay?”

It doesn’t matter; over the next few days, you’re effectively Childe’s prisoner and he seems to enjoy teasing you; he tried to talk to you but you refused and ignored him. It was quite difficult to do so especially when its time for dinner and he’s cooking grilled tiger fish - which is actually your favourite food - and although you’re salivating, he looks at you and grins and waves the grilled tiger fish on a stick in front of you, going, “Hungry?”

You turn away with a frown and he shrugs, “Suit yourself. But I know it’s your favourite.”

You’re confused and about to ask him, but you hear him eating and throw a glance at him to see he’s chomping down and your stomach rumbles. You choose to sleep instead to ignore the hunger but you wake up during the night, starving.

“Eat this,” says a voice, and a grilled tiger fish is plopped down in front of you and Childe is there, crouching by your side. He leaves you alone so you can eat.

You’re surprised by your captor’s behaviour and you initially hate him for what he’s done however he doesn’t harm you in any way. He doesn’t keep you tied up or anything and he’s quite entertained should you ever try to run away because he’ll always just catch up to you and just pick you up and throw you over his shoulder or something and carry you back. 

Your travels with Childe continues but you don’t get the feeling that he hates you or wants to hurt you in anyway. In fact, he keeps surprising you by providing you with your favourite food, favourite drinks and other stuff. It confuses you and though you want to ask him, you’re a little too afraid as to what he might just tell you. Some days you even come across him looking at you a little forlornly but just when you notice, he changes in a split second and will grin at you. Even when it’s nighttime and you’re meant to take a bath, he won’t perv on you. When you arrive at the next village, he asks for a nice room for the two of you and allows you to take the bed, eat as much as you want etc etc. In fact, he’s….taking care of you. He even starts buying you things and whilst you turn down everything he offers, you see his expression crumble and you don’t know what he’s trying to do.

One night he sleeps in the open and you grab a knife, about to drive it in his throat although you’re not sure how much good that’ll do but then you hear him murmur, “You don’t know it…but I’ve been looking for you forever…and I’ve been waiting for you for such a long time… and you end up being the kid of that bastard…the one who killed you, the one who took you away from me….the one who started all this in the first place…”

Confused by what you had just heard, you watch him in steely silence before you slowly lower your hand and put away the knife. The next day he goes “I know what you were trying to do last night. Why didn’t you do it?” 

“I didn’t want to. I’m not a killer like you.” You quip back, but he merely laughs. 

The days continue but the dynamic seems to have changed; when Childe gets you something, you start thanking him and he goes red in the face and you also begin to feel weird around him. Before long, you’re both having food together, having some conversations and you’re accustomed to travelling around with him. He’ll always keep you safe and make sure you have a warm bed each night too. Sometimes when he looks at you, you don’t look away either.

Before long, your father’s men finally catches up; they begin to hunt you and Childe down and you’re stunned when you realised you’re about to get rescued. Something terrible flickers in your mind - maybe you don’t want to be rescued and you want to stay with Childe? After all, he’s taken you to so many places and you’ve seen so many things. Your father kept you cooped up in the citadel for years and this is really the first time you’ve experienced freedom.

Also, you don’t want Childe to get caught. You want him to run away. But he won’t run away without you. And when you question this, he goes, “I can’t afford to lose you again!!”

During the chase, a bunch of arrows are fired towards your direction and you’re worried about Childe, but when the arrows are about to hit you, you squeeze your eyes shut but nothing happens. Reopening your eyes, you see Childe has shield you with his body.

You’re surrounded and as Childe falls, collapsing into your arms, he’s quickly captured and you are returned home. But everything feels boring and dull now, and your father seems more occupied in torturing Childe than checking to see if you’re alright. You ask your father what happened between him and Childe and he tells you he killed his lover many years ago and now Childe has been seeking revenge. When you ask him why he killed Childe’s lover, your father just laughs and says there was no reason.

You’re conflicted. What is this? Why do you feel pity for Childe, and anger towards your father? Why do you feel you are more on Childe’s side now?

I’m in love with him, you realise -- much to your shock. 

Your father announces Childe will be executed by dawn and you hastily rush to where they’re holding him, hoping not to be seen. When you find Childe, he’s badly beaten but still alive and you quickly unshackle him and as he sees you freeing him, he smiles at you; when the last of his shackle is unlocked, he falls forwards but you catch him and your gazes meet.

“Go,” you whisper.

“Not without you. Come with me.” He murmurs, placing a hand to your cheek. “I can’t lose you again.”

You don’t even need to think twice, nodding.

Zhongli

He didn’t think you would ever die... and in his arms no less. He found you after the battle and when he saw that you were grievously wounded, he could not believe his eyes. He was too late and unable to save you, so he merely held you in his arms as you told him with weak breaths that this was the end. He promises that he’ll find you again and holds you tightly as he feels your warmth slowly disappearing, the life escaping from your eyes and then you were simply…gone

For a while, he merely sat with you in the ashen field, cradling you tightly to his chest before he picked you up and retreated silently. No one would see him for several centuries following that but it was rumoured he went to the mountains to bury you. He was in mourning.

Zhongli never forgot you and his love for you never went away so he’s comforted by the fact that your soul will be reincarnated albeit into a different vessel and as he promised, begins to search for your whereabouts when it’s finally time.

He roams the world to no end and many decades pass. Eventually he gets tired and one day he even passes out from exhaustion, reverting to a dragon form to recuperate.

And you’re walking home from the mountains and you come across this huge dragon resting on a rock and you’re like oh my archon. But it looks like he’s sick so as you approach nervously and poke at his body gently with a stick (no response), and also press your ear against his scaly belly (he’s breathing and you can hear a heartbeat), you’re aware the dragon is still alive. You quickly rush home to grab some makeshift medicine made from herbs and return to the sick dragon

Zhongli too weary to open his eyes or lift his head, and as he drifts in and out of consciousness, he thinks he hears your voice and he’s comforted by the familiarity and as you sit with him, stroking his horns and mane, he kind of inches towards you and into your arms. As the day progresses, the sun is particularly harsh so you set up little parasols and pull huge leaves over his head to provide as much shade as possible. Occasionally the dragon has nightmares but you’re able to calm him down by petting him 

When it gets dark, you need to head home but you’re a little reluctant, so you leave behind some food for him and drape a blanket over his body (though this doesn’t cover him much). However, during the night, it’s thunder and lightning and you get worried for the dragon so you rush back out and you find the dragon being battered by the rain whilst curled up into a tight ball and shivering under the blanket so you quickly try to move him but oh lawd he heavy and suddenly the blanket gets blown away by the wind when he lifts a claw so you race after it and end up almost falling off a cliff - to your surprise, the dragon swoops down to save you and you faint but before you black out, you think you see a young man in the dragon’s place, staring at you with much intrigue

He has the same eyes as the dragon

That night, you have strange dreams of that man. He acts as if he knows you, calls you by a different name and you are also his lover. The dream is long, but ends with your demise - which forces you to wake up in a panic

You’re surrounded by the coiled up dragon who has gotten better from your care but when he wakes up, he’s cautious and observes you for a few moments. 

You and this dragon staring at each other until you slowly reach a hand to touch him 

Your hand lands over his snout and you’re surprised he’s allowing you to pat him, but whatever, you’re super happy at his recovery and you can go home now. It’s time to part ways and as you head towards the direction of your home, you throw glances over your shoulder to see the dragon watching you silently

On the way, you think about the dragon and the strange dreams and attract the attention of a group of treasure hoarders who are wandering around the wilderness. However, to your surprise, you are saved by a young man - and it’s the very man from your dreams! He manages to defeat the bandits but you see he’s hurt and he almost collapses if you weren’t there to catch him. The moment he landed in your arms and that same sense of familiarity swept over you. You’re quick enough to react and sweep those thoughts away and bring the poor man home, lugging his polearm over your back along with your basket

You look after this young man and nurse him back to health. During this time, he looks at you strangely and when he’s sleeping, his calls out the name you were called in the dream. When you think he’s having a nightmare and you go over to check if he’s ok, giving him a little shake on the arm, he throws his arms around you and holds you close, begging you not to leave him and that he had spent eons looking for you. When you tell him he’s got the wrong person…it’s as though he comes to his senses and he quickly releases you, apologising for his behaviour and thanking you for his hospitality

He tells you his name is Zhongli and because he’s injured, you give him the spare room in the back and take care of him. During this period of interaction, at first it’s quite strange and maybe a little awkward, because hell he is an insanely attractive man (he can’t be single, no way) and you’re bustling around the house, doing chores/cleaning up or tending to your garden and he watches you the entire time and this goes on for a few days before he joins in to help when you’re hanging up the laundry though you don’t want him to help because he’s injured but he assures you he wants to do his part. 

So Zhongli becomes a part of your everyday life where during the day and you both have breakfast together before you head to the market together to buy groceries and later, he accompanies you to pick herbs in the mountain. 

One day you’re tired so he sits with you and massages your leg and you’re so embarrassed but at the same time, your heart is beating like crazy. He even carries you down the steep path all the way home. 

At night time and you sit together on the front porch watching fireflies and chatting idly for hours. 

He ends up staying for a long time and one day, when it’s time to redress his wound, you notice he’s completely healed - and it looks like he actually healed up a while ago. You blink in confusion before turning to him and he looks at you before he reaches for your hand and holds it firmly, smoothing his thumb over the back of your hand

A distant memory, more like deja vu, flickers through your mind and you realise Zhongli has held your hand like this before and you run out of the room, confused. Zhongli worried he scared you off so he doesn’t pursue you

When it’s night, you dream again but it’s becoming so vivid you end up confused the next morning, waking up in an unfamiliar house and in an unfamiliar body and screaming for Zhongli. As you calm down, he holds you in his arms and it reminds you of the dream you had when you died in his embrace. You briefly forget yourself for a moment before murmuring Zhongli’s name - and it reminds him of how you used to say his name eons ago and he gets sentimental, giving in because he knows you are the reincarnation of his lover and when you kiss, that’s when everything floods back and you remember everything 

Finally reunited with your lover, you share an embrace, determined not to be separated ever again

[bokugaos]

Territory

＞﹏＜ koutarou-nii just has to be the first here!! @aoyukai​ @kiyokens​ @shoyokuns​ for this nd helping nd encouraging me yesterday ILY’ALL MWAH

length: ~2k

warnings — yandere!bokuto, pseudo-incest, virgin reader

Bokuto can’t get enough of his pure and perfect little sister. So sweet, so soft, and untouched. Like an angel.

He knows about the things you talk about with his two older sisters. He tunes in to your conversations a lot; to keep tabs on you, he insists! As a responsible older brother, he has to know everything about you.

He’s seen the way other men look at you—his old high school classmates and teammates, strangers on the street, hell, even his current teammates. Everyone knows you’re off limits, he always makes sure of it. Nobody has the right to take you away from him, to be the reason that you’re going to cater to someone else’s attention but his.

You belong to him and only him.

But you’re simply too stubborn for your own good. You just have to go out and make your own friends, and now you have some suitors that he’s concerned about. You’ve dated some of them and of course Bokuto is spending more than half his time worrying about you and the things you do with them.

The thought of one of them, thinking they have the right to take away your virgin flower. He’s not even entitled to have you, let alone all those scumbags. He can’t bear the thought of someone snatching your innocence away—you’re so precious to him that he doesn’t even allow himself to have it. He would never ever let anyone else take it, not under his watch.

He is more than delighted when you announce to him that you’re going to stop meeting and dating people. You’re now finally seeing eye to eye with him! You haven’t been hanging out with other people, spending most of your time with him, as if living together is not enough for you.

You’ve voiced your complaints before, how you’re getting weird comments from your friends. They told you that it’s not normal for siblings to be that close. But he understands; they hate that you’re no longer so attached to them since you go out to see them less and less. He tries to explain to you that they are simply jealous.

You don’t need anyone else after all; he’s the only one you need, and he’s the best man you can ever find in this world.

But he’d be lying if he says he’s never had a lapse of judgment. You’re not making it any easier for him either, even though you don’t know just how weak he is for you. He’d catch you with your eyes closed, so relaxed and unguarded… what are you thinking? Do you lose your imagination, like he often does?

Are you fantasizing about him caressing you as he’s lowering you to the bed? Because he’s done it a few times you know, putting you to sleep like that. He has just never made any moves beyond. Maybe you unconsciously wish for him to all the same and that’s what you’re thinking about

Do you want him to pull the underwear down your thighs, slowly rub his fingers over your sex, smear your love juice to make sure you’re at least a little prepared for him, before he presses the head of his cock to your entrance? Do you want to feel him, inch by inch, as he sheathes himself deep into your tight, hot, virgin space? Because he would love nothing more than to listen to your moans, all your cute squirms underneath him and your delicious whimpers.

When you call out, “Kou-nii”, his heart jumps—he knows you’re definitely not thinking of anyone else. This is the only time he’s giving into a moment of weakness. He’s got you pressed up on the wall, your clothes hiked up just enough for him to have more of your thigh to grind against. You’re asking him—practically begging him to sink himself into you. “Am I not worthy?” You are, and your mewls, his sister gift wrapping it for him in the prettiest show of doubt and hesitation, can break his fixation.

Bokuto glides his hot, needy cock against your skin. His wet, leaking tip is leaving glistening trails, beautifying you even more. You keep your hands to yourself, both pressed on the surface of the wall. Your eyes are starting to close with each rock of your body, while musical little hums resonate behind closed lips.

He growls, having worked himself into a heated madness. He spins you around, and you instinctively close your legs tightly together for him. With slight difficulty, he wedges himself between the pillowy parts of your thighs, the softest portions, just underneath your crotch. He ruts in between them, with fervent quick snaps.  

His hands plant onto the wall on either side of you. His cock briefly grazes the cloth of your underwear, feeling the moist there. He can’t tell if he’s simply leaking that much, or if you’re truly that wet for him. He pulls back to peel your underwear down in a flash and the next thing you know, its head is rubbing against you, earning him a soft moan bellowing against his ear.

The bedroom is a tad too far, but he won’t let himself be the reason his whole fantasy, the one he’s been dreaming around his fist about, to be ruined. He ups and carries you to the room, restraining himself from throwing you against the mattress and start fucking you senseless.

He crawls on the bed and hovers above you with heavy breaths, unable to calm himself down no matter how hard he tries. You’re so beautiful for him, laying on the stark white sheets as pure as you. He opens up your legs, marveling at how you look like a goddess in his bed. You’re so, very perfect. How is he so lucky to be the one who sees you like this?

Thankful that you’ve waited this whole time,—for him!—and let him take you. He gives you a kiss on the forehead and slowly pulls his hips back, cock leaving a wet trail from navel to mound. He angles his hips so that his bulky head lines up perfectly with your hungry cunt. Your inner, velvety walls hug him, just the tip this time, like a vice grip.

The last bits of his moral center shut down.

All Bokuto wants now is to fuck and fuck fast. To bury himself to the hilt, over and over. However, he’ll need to ease you up even more, as he’s barely even a quarter in but you’re already milking him so tightly that his eyes might actually roll back in pleasure. With an adorable cry—he’s unsure if it’s a surprised one or a pained one—your slack hands move his forearm to his biceps, clinging tighter and tighter the rougher he is. He loves that. It feels as if you're returning some of the passion, so he gives it even more effort.

He mercilessly plunges inside with a few rude thrusts of his pelvis. You wail at the sudden stretch, the burn that careens through your silky, slick walls. Flowering up into your chest, taking the breath from your lungs.

Though his hands are caressing you all over, it seems as if he is not paying any mind to any of your other reactions. Your wails, or the heavy flow of tears that roll down your temples. The whimpering or the continued pleading.

“Hey, pretty girl, don’t cry, huh?” one of his trembling hands smooths over your cheek, trying his best to comfort you despite the raging need in him to thrust faster, harder.  “I-it hurts! and they… they said this is-”

“Just ignore them.”

A thumb hooks around your chin gently but insistently, leaving no room for argument, and you look up to meet his gaze. Bokuto only realizes he’d been slowing down, staring deeply into your eyes when a sob bubbles out of your mouth. Your eyes are half-lidded as he grazes his nose against yours. Kitty kisses, he always calls them. This seems to soothe you the smallest bit. His consciousness is blurring like watercolor now. He has to focus on the more important part of this, he realizes. And it’s you. “How bad does it hurt?”

You shake your head and squeeze your eyes shut.

“I know, baby, I know…it hurts the first time, remember? But d-don’t be scared, I-ah, fuck! It’s nii-chan,” Bokuto’s hips buck faster and harder, “Nii-chan’s got you.”

Closing your eyes you take a deep breath in through your nose. One of his hands is roaming your body, trying to distract you. The very tips of his fingers, gliding over the slopes of your breasts, teasing your nipples. Sending sharp shivers through your stomach into your pussy. Accumulating a new bout of slick, your cunt feeling hot and needy, you clench around him.

Your fingers come together in a fist over your head. All you can focus on is how deep his cock is hitting you, how filled up you are. The unbelievable heat, how your pussy continues to salivate all over his cock. Slick seeping in between your cheeks. Thighs shaking, as your velvet walls clamp down on his length. “Ah!– Nii-chan! Fu-fuck… oh– oh my god…” Your whole body quakes with your intense orgasm.  

You throw your hands back over your head and arch your back. Your breath is fevered, chest rapidly rising and falling. Shaky meek whines that accompany every exhale. But that’s now, because your body is begging for it, pleading to get filled and creamed.

Bokuto continues to piston into you long after you're done coming. He fucks you until you’re a sweaty, grimy, whimpering mess. All muscle strength lost to it, becoming a rag-doll being puppeted by his big, unrelenting figure.

A deep-seated growl in his chest, not yet, he thinks, maybe you need some more practice before you can take him all the way inside. He’s too inside himself to recognize the wail you give, hunching over and burying his face in your neck, tasting sweat and fear and wholly unable to stop himself at all. He grunts like an animal, punctuated by loud, slick smacking sounds, overwhelmed with the pleasure of your burning hot, resisting walls clutching at him like a fist.

You turn him on so much. The tight constriction of your heavenly, virgin cunt. The heavy, moist breath on his neck. Nothing else matters, nothing except catching his end. Filling you up and making you his.

Your nails dig into his biceps and he comes. “Oh! Shit– It’s am– amazing.” His cock, aching and twitching inside of you. He’s coming hard, thick and heavy. Seated all the way inside, spurting deep within you, causing your belly to feel flooded. Marking his territory, you’re his.

He slowly pulls out of you, his cum spilling out of your cute, used up hole. “How’s it feel, angel?”

“ ‘s so good...” You weakly roll your head, face digging into the sheets. You have no strength to lift up your head, but you hope he’ll see your dazed smile.

He chuckles, “Silly baby, of course it does.”

You try to turn over, but he won’t allow it. “No, no. Don’t move. I’ll get you cleaned up!” He comes back with a warm washcloth. He gently cleans off the sweat from your forehead, wipes up stickiness from between your legs. Then he lets you move just he hugs you close to his chest, as he lays down with you in his arms.

Bokuto nuzzles his nose along your cheekbone, humming in approval. He is massaging circles, nibbling on your earlobe. You let your eyes fall shut again, trying to concentrate.

His body is so big, his musk so familiar and homely. You sigh as you finally start to relax, “...Kou-nii is the best.”

He is, and in fact, the only one you need.

[mrsalwayswrite]

Fight For You (Ivar x Reader)

This is my contribution to @youbloodymadgenius​ 1k celebration! Congrats, love! 

My prompt was: You had my curiosity. But now you have my attention. (Django Unchained)

Warnings: a smidgeon of violence, talk of premeditative murder of a spouse, some possessive!Ivar? my poor attempts at humor and flirting.

Words:3900

  The talking of the other earls, jarls and king grated on Ivar's nerves. Instead of threatening to cut out all of their tongues and make a necklace of them, like he strongly desired to do, he silently reclined in his seat fuming. It was both boring and infuriating to listen to these lesser men squabble amongst themselves like children. But like Hvitserk frequently reminded him, the others needed to be included in the planning. Even if Ivar despised it. 

 So he sat back, pretending to listen to the others as they attempted to make a battle plan. Even if it was a piss poor attempt and honestly, laughable. He kept silent for now. For he had his own plan and when he felt he had given them enough time to argue, he would share what they needed to know to fulfill it. He never shared the full plan; he would never give another that kind of power and knowledge. 

 King Harald Finehair was the least incompetent of the warriors and since at least half of their heathen army was there due to him, many listened intently when he spoke. 

 "If our scouts are correct, our army vastly outnumbers anything the town has." King Harald placed both of his hands on the table, drawing the attention of those under the meeting tent to himself. "I say tomorrow we attack with our full force. If they barricade themselves in, then we burn the gate down."

 "How great will our casualties be then?" Earl Liefson questioned, eyeing most of Norway's King with scrutiny. 

 "Did you not hear King Harald? We outnumber them! Those that die during the fight will certainly go to Valhalla to feast with Odin and Thor. Let us attack without fear or worry!" Jarl Haakon boasted, slapping a hand to his broad chest in emphasis. 

 This time Ivar did not try to suppress his annoyance. He rolled his eyes at the Jarl, practically biting his tongue to withhold a scathing comment. Looking to his left, he caught the gaze of his brother, Hvitserk, who at least was better at hiding his irritation. 

 There were many men that Ivar detested, many men he loathed. Jarl Haakon was most certainly in the top five. The man loved the sound of his own voice and any idea spewed from his mouth usually equaled in value to a pig's fart. At first, Ivar could not fathom how the Jarl managed to stay in his position of power. Sure, he fought like a berserker and thrived on bloodlust like many Vikings…. but he was a pompous, narrow-minded idiot. 

 Yet once the meetings started, plans being drawn for this great raid, Ivar figured it out. 

 It was you. 

 In the beginning, some of the other earls initially protested when Jarl Haakon brought you into the meetings; especially since you were no shieldmaiden, you were only his wife. But when he flatly stated either you came with him or him and his men left, their protests died down. Those very men were further silenced when King Harald greeted you warmly and welcomed your company. 

 At first, Ivar loathed your presence, thinking you were there just to satisfy your husband's ego, his continuous need to show off his beautiful wife. It was only after plans were finalized and Jarl Haakon looked down at you, his hand possessively on your lower back, that Ivar realized you were not there just to look pretty. 

 You surveyed over the "map" drawn into the dirt, eyes analyzing. Then you did the most unexpected thing. You critiqued the plan. Perfecting it in ways that even Ivar had not seen. 

 And the bloodthirsty prince could only sit back in shock and awe. 

 It was after that first encounter, whenever you were nearby, his gaze never strayed far from you. 

 Now, you stood silently next to your husband, focused on the plan being discussed. Instead of fully listening to the others, Ivar watched you. The way you bit your lower lip in concentration, the faint twitch of your right eye when someone said something you disagreed with, the quiet way you controlled your husband with a simple word or touch. It all mesmerized him. 

 What inflamed him the most was the few times your gaze would rise to meet his. The way you would peek at him through your lashes like a shy maiden, as if silently asking for his permission, then speak to the group of men. The power and intellect you kept hidden would be unveiled with your words. It was enough to make Ivar salivate every time. 

 Most women bothered Ivar with their whimpering or tedious nature, even most of the shieldmaidens made him want to plunge a dagger into them. But not you. You were not most women. Ivar swore on all the gods that you were a Valkyrie sent from Odin to bless him, to confirm his favor with the Aesir and his lineage tracing back to Odin himself. 

 Yet somehow you were married to that fool of a Jarl….and Ivar hated it. 

 "What say you, Ivar?" King Harald asked, drawing the prince back to the current conversation. The gazes of the other leaders weighed heavily once their eyes turned to Ivar, but instead of buckling underneath their inquiry, he thrived. 

 "I say why waste time and men? Let us lead a main force from the river like they expect us to do. A second force will attack from the north, hiding in the woods. My scout says there is a second smaller gate that their hunters use to leave the town. Because of its location, it is not well defended. Using that, there will be no need for a siege." He confidently explained his plan, looking around the meeting tent. A knot in his core tightened as he saw the corners of your lips turned upward in a brief smile and the bright gleam in your eyes. His plan was flawless, but seeing your approval bolstered his confidence, made him straighten further in his chair. 

 "Why did you not tell us about this second gate sooner?" An older earl demanded. His fingers tapped on the axe he wore on his hip, either purposefully threatening or mindlessly was yet to be determined. 

 The dark-haired prince rolled his head to the side, glaring at the man with malice in his icy blue eyes. "I waited until the information was necessary. If you sent your own scouts, they may have discovered it themselves instead of wasting their time drunk everyday we've been here."

 "A second gate is fortuitous for us." King Harald interrupted before the earl could respond. "We will lose less men. I will lead the main attack with my men. Ivar will lead the second attack since you were the one who brought this information."

 Ivar cocked his head for a moment then nodded. "Agreed." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jarl Haakon turn to you with a silent question in his look. Without hesitation, you give a single nod and your husband smiled. 

 "What are we standing around for then? We have Saxons to kill and glory and riches to earn. Let us prepare!" Jarl Haakon loudly proclaimed, making a couple of the earls chuckle. After that everyone began to disperse back to their own tents and warriors. Word would spread to prepare for battle the next day. 

 Catching Hvitserk's eye, Ivar motioned for his older brother to accompany him. Together, they walked out of the meeting tent and past groups of warriors, tents and cooking fires. The noon sun blared down on them, causing many to seek shelter under tents or tree canopies. 

 "What is it?" The flaxen-haired warrior asked, falling easily into step with his little brother. 

 Ivar hated how easily his brother could keep pace with him, while he stumbled along with his crippled legs and crutch. It was not Hvitserk's fault, but it was a resentment that Ivar still held nonetheless. Keeping his gaze forward, he grunted a vague reply. "I have questions."

 "Ah." Hvitserk ran a hand over his mustache as he surveyed the camp around them. After a moment, he spoke up again. "Anything to do with y/n?"

 Ivar snapped his head around to glare only to meet the amused look of his smirking brother. His upper lip curled up in a snarl but Hvitserk cut him off with a shrug.

 "What? You're not as subtle as you think you are. You're lucky her husband hasn't taken notice of your…. attention."

 "Shut up."

 "Alright…. we are going to see her though, right?"

 Ivar did not respond, instead he grit his teeth as he pressed on to his destination. Beside him, Hvitserk laughed but kept pace and any further comments to himself. 

 The two princes walked towards Jarl Haakon's tent. From observing, Ivar knew that the Jarl would be off with King Harald, talking to their warriors and finalizing their own plans. Without fail, he always postured himself to the forefront in speaking to their warriors, most likely to make sure his voice was heard just after King Harald and to boost his own ego. Even if his usefulness in making the battle plans was nonexistent. He was a warrior, through and through, but not a strategist. His value lied on his ability to wield his sword and axe on the battlefield.  

 To Ivar's surprise, you always retired to your tent right away after meetings. He witnessed on more than one occasion where your husband tried to convince you to accompany him, all to no avail. Oh, it was obvious your husband cared for you, but he also thrived on the jealous looks from others. His hand continuously rested on your lower back or around your shoulders, pulling you against him, dwarfing you with his larger frame. Frequently, he loudly proclaimed how he was gifted with a wife from Freya herself, making sure to steal a kiss as he laughed boisterously. 

 A coy smile danced on your lips but Ivar could see it hidden in the depths of your eyes, the annoyance and disgust by your husband's actions. You were a goddess on Midgard. That simpleton of a husband was not worthy of you. He should worship at your feet, begging for a moment of your divine attention. Yet, you were his lawful wife.

 And jealousy threatened to burn Ivar alive as he looked on.  

 The son of Ragnar was further enraged as he approached your tent to witness no guards posted in front of it. How dare your husband leave you undefended? He was even more of a fool than Ivar thought.

 With his usual arrogance, Ivar drew back the flap to your tent without calling out for your permission. As he stepped through, he could hear Hvitserk mutter something under his breath behind him, but still followed into the Jarl's tent.

 You stood next to a short table on the far side of the tent. Your hair was out of its typical braids, catching the prince's eye. An image of him running his hand through your hair flashed through his mind without warning. With the cloth in hand and the shallow bowl before you, Ivar knew he had interrupted your cleansing. 

 "Prince Ivar," you started, dragging the cloth down your neck sensually before setting it softly into the bowl. "My husband is not here at the moment. Would you like me to send for him?"

 "That's alright. It's you I'm interested in." He smirked as he watched you straighten further, a faint furrow between your brows. Your eyes continued to hold his, sending a thrill straight down his spine. He moved to the center of the tent, drawing closer as if magnetized by you. Leaning on his crutch, he tipped his head to peer at you. Lesser men would fear being alone with him, a Viking known for his bloodlust and cruelty but not you. There was no fear, no concern for safety in your eyes, only interest….and that amused and enthralled the crippled prince. 

 "I confess, I find your relationship with your husband…. peculiar. At first, I thought you were another pretty face, just another useless wife. But I see now, you are far more cunning and clever than you let on. Even now. Your husband is a fool, but he is intelligent enough to recognize he's need for you. So, I have been curious. Why are you still married to that oaf? I suspect there are far better suitors out there for you."

 You shrugged, taking a couple steps closer to the center of the tent. "It was the gods' will, and he is a good man." 

 "He's an idiot." Ivar deadpanned.  A muffled snort came from the direction of Hvitserk behind him but he kept his piercing eyes on you. 

 "Perhaps. He is still my husband."

 "Mmm….and do you care for your husband?"

 You glanced over at Hvitserk, who stood near the entrance, leaning against a pole casually, and then back to Ivar. For the first time, he saw uncertainty flash across your eyes but it was quickly subdued. "Why does it matter?"

 He moved closer until he stood before you, the sound of his crutch muffled by the furs covering the ground. "He is always touching you, but you never reciprocate. You are…. complacent. Tell me, honestly. Does his intellect bore you? Is that why you run back to your tent?"

 "Ivar…." Hvitserk said in warning, only to be ignored. 

 "Would you bore me?" You asked coquettishly, looking at him from under your lashes, making his heart race. "I find most men…. simple."

 "I think you know the answer to that." His mouth curved in an arrogant smile. "Is that why you steal looks at me during meetings?"

 "Or is it because I feel your eyes on me already?"

 Gods, he wanted to touch you. As you stared into one another's eyes, a silent conversation flowed between you two. It was now he finally saw what he hoped for, what he silently prayed for. A longing lay hidden in your gaze that matched his own. An understanding. A hunger that bespoke of adventure and passion. The torturous desire was enough to drive him mad with need but he refrained. He would make you come to him though, he would make you touch him first to prove your want for him. 

 "Is this…. are you two flirting?" Hvitserk suddenly asked, shattering the revealing moment. 

 "No, brother. I would never flirt with a married woman." Ivar took a step back from you, feeling the space like a chasm between you two. "I think my questions have been answered." He turned around and started towards the entrance. 

 In anger, most people revealed their true selves. He had learned that if he could say the right thing, push people the right way, their true selves, their true desires would manifest. So he decided to see if the meek wife you portrayed was accurate or just a mask, if he could draw that longing out from you. He turned his head just enough to the side to make sure you heard his next statement. "It seems you are just another pretty face after all."

 In the next step, the sharp edge of a dagger pressed to his throat froze his step. Shifting his head slightly, the edge dug further, almost piercing his skin. You stood just behind him, the dagger in your hand. 

 "I may not be a shieldmaiden but I am no helpless Saxon woman." You slowly, teasingly, dragged the dagger's tip further up his neck to his pulse point. The whole time he never removed his eyes from yours over his shoulder. The tension glided across his body, shooting a shiver down his spine. He wondered if the heated look in your eyes matched his own. If he licked his lips, could he taste the ardor saturating the air between you.  

 When you spoke again, it was with a low and titillating tone. Your breath brushed against his neck, the feeling of your body almost touching his- tormenting. His hand clutched his crutch with a white-knuckle grip, his self-control slipping away with each moment. "I always have at least three daggers on me…. would you like to try and find them?"

 "I do!" Hvitserk said, raising his hand, breaking the tension. "I volunteer!"

 You winked at Hvitserk before withdrawing the dagger from Ivar's throat and taking a step back. Ivar continued to watch you as your gaze met his again. "Do not assume just because you cannot see something, does not mean it is not there. I may look like the submissive wife but that is far from the truth."

 To say he was aroused was an understatement. Spinning on his heel, he faced you, not even trying to suppress the hunger bubbling up within him. "You had my curiosity. But now you have my attention."

 "And what does that mean, 'I have your attention'? Is there a prize?" You raised an eyebrow but the devious smirk betrayed your amusement. 

 "I always reward those who…. interest me." He shifted forward to gently reach forward and caress your cheek. A sharp inhale and the fluttering of your lashes at his touch proved his effect on you. Carefully, you tipped your head, leaning your cheek against his hand. Never before had he coveted you so strongly. His instincts screamed at him to take your hand and lead you back to his tent, to make you his forever. You were a free woman though; the choice was yours. He wanted you to choose him. 

 "You are too smart for that idiot. Leave him." He muttered, tracing a finger over the seam of your lips. 

 "It's not that simple."

 "It can be."

 You pressed a kiss to the tip of his finger. "And what will I do then?"

 "You can be my woman!" Hvitserk declared, placing a hand over his heart. 

 You giggled at the harsh glare Ivar threw his brother over his shoulder. 

 "What?" Hvitserk asked in mock innocence. “You know I would share, little brother!"

 "Hvitty, say another word and I will cut your tongue out."

 The flaxen-haired prince rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "Both of you need to work on your flirting. I did quite enjoy the little display you gave us, it's been far too long since someone threatened Ivar. We could make a shieldmaiden out of you yet, y/n."

 You stepped around Ivar to approach Hvitserk, much to Ivar's chagrin. He watched you give a quick peck on the cheek to his brother. Red began to color Ivar's sight, the tight grip on his crutch borderline painful.

 "I could make you very happy." Hvitserk said with a flirty wink, making you giggle. 

 The innuendo did not go over both Ivar and your heads. You smiled though, walking back towards the center of the tent. "I'm sure but I would hate to take that opportunity away from all the other women since I don't like to share."

 Ivar reached over and grabbed your arm, pulling you closer to him. The sweet smile lingered on your face but now directed at him softened some of his jealous anger. He cupped the side of your face, gazing down at you in something akin to reverence and longing. Silently, you placed your hands on his chest, staring up at him. He wondered if you caused his heart to beat or it beat for you. 

 "You fascinate me." He whispered, as if scared to utter the confession. 

 A sigh escaped you as you glanced downward at your hands on him. "If only we had met in another life."

 "Leave him. He doesn't deserve you. You deserve to be worshipped and recognized. Not treated as something to be shown off."

 "Perhaps one day." You lifted your eyes to meet his once more. "But I can't yet. An alliance relies on our marriage."

 He nodded, running his tongue along his bottom lip. It made sense. That would explain how you ended up married to the foolish warrior jarl. Lifting one of your hands from his chest, he pressed a lingering kiss to your knuckles, wishing it was your lips instead. Without another word, he started towards the entrance to your tent. His mind needed to process what it learned and how to best utilize that information for his plan. 

 Just before opening the flap, he turned back to you, surprised to see you still standing in the same spot but now rubbing your kissed knuckles across your bottom lip. Warmth and determination welled in his chest. 

 "Will you pray to the gods for our victory?"

 A smug smile curled the corners of your mouth. "I always do, but it is not necessary for who can defeat Ivar the Boneless?"

 He could not stop the grin from spreading across his face. "And do you pray for your husband's safety?"

 "That I leave to the gods."

 With one last heated look sent your way, he ducked out of the tent and back into the sunny camp.  

 "What now?" Hvitserk asked, walking beside him.

 "I need to talk with King Harald."

 "Ivar, you can't…. that’s…."

 He stopped to round on his brother, a scowl directed at him. "She deserves better than Jarl Haakon. Do you disagree?" He spat out, his wrath directed at your husband blazing once again. 

 Hvitserk sighed. "No, but…."

 "Then it's settled." Without waiting, he started in the direction of King Harald's tent. 

 Hvitserk rushed back to his side, falling into step. "So you'll pursue her after?"

 Ivar kept silent, mind already finalizing plans on how to best dispose of your husband. The battle coming up was the perfect opportunity, as if the timing was ordained and blessed by the gods. 

 "You won't be the only one. You're not the only man to watch her."

 Ivar sneered at the thought. "They will find themselves with my axe embedded in their guts if they even try."

 "So protective of her already and she is still another man's wife." 

 Ivar turned on his brother but Hvitserk just sidestepped the dagger aimed at his chest. 

 "If it's the gods' will for her to be your wife then I will help you." His older brother stated with his hands held up in surrender. "You know this. Besides I think you found your match with her."

 "She is…." The crippled prince started but his words trailed off. How could he adequately describe how you meant to him, how he longed for you, how he knew with you by his side he would be unstoppable and maybe for once in his life, actually happy. 

 "Is that Ivar the Boneless speechless? It must be love…. or the sun is getting to your head and you're going to be sick."

 "Shut up." Ivar snapped but without malice. 

 They walked for a few more minutes in silence before Hvitserk spoke up again. 

 "It will be pleasant to not hear his irritating voice anymore in meetings. We may be able to find an earl willing to just kill him for us."

 Ivar chuckled darkly. His thoughts returned to you and how he would willingly do anything to make you his wife. You were his Valkyrie, his goddess, you would complete him. Soon you would at his side, come death or Ragnarök, he would fight for you.