#hope they all burn in a pile together screaming and begging for help like i did

[toughtttz]

Recover?? I hardly know er

[romanarose]

The Prodigals: Prologue

Dividers by @sister-lucifer (first one) and @kodaswrld (last 2)

Upcoming series: The Prodigals. Leftovers. Failures. Fuck-ups. Losers. Fugitives. Scott and Kurt, left with nothing else, travel universes in search of people like them, heros in hiding or who need a push. They form a new team Frankensteined together by nothing but hope for a better future and to make something of themselves.

Summery for prologue: Nothing Scott could ever do could make up for these failures. But Kurt is going to try to help.

Warning: Suicide attempt, gun to chin type thing much like Marc in Moon Knight. Deaths off screen. Hurt hurt hurt. Then comfort.

A/N: In the words of P!ATD, I'm the narrator and this is just a prologue. More information on this series below. This is not a Kurt and Scott only fic, it's going to be very focused on a multitude of mismatched people. And will be gay. No reader.

And just like that, there was nothing left to live for.

Earth was destroyed, almost everyone Scott loved was dead, and he stood here on top a pile of carcuses of those he killed in vain to save it. What was that slaughter for, if at the end 8 billion were gone still? Just more blood on his hands. 

Floating in a useless ship as the world he knew literally burned to ashes, turning in on itself while hellfire rained down, somehow Scott felt the urge to stop the destruction still, even though there was nothing left to save. Every living being, human or mutant, was obliterated, something not even Logan or Wade could survive. Entire buildings were dust.

Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. 

Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.

Kurt would be proud of him for remembering those verses. Were they bible verses, or were they just said in mass? Well, maybe Kurt wouldn’t be proud. It doesn’t matter, because Kurt is about to be as disappointed in Scott  as he ever could be, but Scott is taking the coward’s way out. He won’t live to see the disappointment on his only living friend’s face.

The gun was tilted to his chin. No healing factor.  One shot, and it would be over. Was it selfish to leave Kurt here alone, with no one? Yes. It was. And the fact Scott was willing to let that happen just because he couldn’t face another second was testament that he deserved to die. 

He never deserved the power he was given, the mutation, the gift. He wasn’t worthy. He didn’t deserve Charles mentorship, the authority bestowed on him that he let grow into hubris, pride that made him think he didn’t need to ask for help when he was in over his head. 

He got cocky. He got sloppy.

And now there was nothing left to live for, certainly not Kurt who deserved better than him.

“It’s not your time, mien frund.”

Scott sighed, the earth a bright yellow and orange and red out the window he looked. Of course Kurt found a way to him. Of course Kurt never gave up on him. Of course he thinks he can save him now. He chuckles, sardonic sound. “Yeah, was it Logan’s time? Was it Rogue and Remy’s? Do you think they died in each other’s arm?”

“Stop it.” 

“Do you think Ororo and Jean were laughing together when they were incinerated?”

“Put the gun down-”

Scott whipped around to face Kurt, gun still trained under his jaw. “Or do you think Jean saw it coming in her head and screamed for me to save her?”

He lost Jean to Logan long ago, and he accepted that. Logan was his friend and he loved both dealy, but that didn’t stop her face from being what he saw at the end of the world. 

Kurt’s face turned to that of desperation. Scott hoped desperately the religious young man wasn’t going to lecture him on God’s love. He didn’t want to hear it right now, he wanted to hate himself.

“Please… don’t leave me…” There was a desperation in Kurt’s voice, a pleading, begging even that screamed ‘you are all I have now’ and this is what he was afraid of. This is why he didn’t go find Kurt when he knew it was over. Because there was no way in hell he could look at the younger man’s face, ever-full of love and hope, and abandon him.

The gun was set shakily down on a counsel, and Scott dropped to the floor, the atmosphere burning up below their ship. Everyone in a plane fried up seconds after everyone on earth did, anyone in spaceships or in a station minutes after, while Scott still scrambled to end the carnage in vain. They likely watched their earth burn, the fire itself coming for them.

Kurt did not hesitate to drop to the floor beside him, holding his brother as he wracked with sobs of guilt and grief. They stayed like that until exhaustion fell Scott to the metal floor but the agony hadn’t ended. They didn’t move for hours. When Scott fell asleep in his arms, Kurt stayed right there until he too rested, surrounded by the bodies Scott killed, sliced in half by a man who was more dangerous than anyone Kurt knew when provoked just the right way.

*

“How did you get in here?” Scott finally managed to ask. He woke up from sleep, having a few moments of bliss before he remembered what happened. Before he carefully pulled away from his friend’s embrace, embarrassed. Before he remembered that they were floating above their dead earth stranded, and it was his responsibility to figure out something that would save the boy’s life. He wouldn’t let him die here.

Kurt reached behind him, pulling out a small dial. “It’s how they got here. Universe portal, but it set it to go here. I think this is our best bet.”

“So what?” Scott brows furrowed until they were under his visor. “We’re just supposed to hop to another universe and compete with another Kurt and Scott? See dead ringers for our friends and work beside them every day?” He got up, still feeling embarrassed to have needed comfort from who he is supposed to be leading.

Blue fingers fidget with the small mechanism. “Well, I was thinking as you slept.” Scott blushed at the reminder. “We could make our own team… Your team.”

That caught Scott’s attention. “What the hell do you mean?” 

“There’s got to be other people like us. People who’ve seen shieste and are alone, who need people. Different universes, different teams have those left behind.”

“So… what, get a bunch of fucking losers together?”

Kurt gives a small laugh. “You’re not a loser, mien frund. Far from it. You are a leader.”

Scott closed his eyes, wincing at that. Failure, that’s what he was. “Kurt, I’m not-”

“Our team will be those left behind. Those who never had a chance to be who they could be. You Americans, you love your rag tag team of misfits, no?”

A sigh. “Yeah, we do…”

Kurt pushes the device into his friend’s hand. “We can do good, Scott.” 

He shakes his head. “I don’t think I- everyone is dead, and I know you’ll say it’s not my fault but it is.” He tries to push it back to Kurt, but he refuses.

There is a pause before Kurt speaks again, a young man wise beyond his years considering his words. “I won’t argue with you, because now is not the time… But if you feel you have failed, if you feel you have done wrong in the eyes of God, this can be your repentance. A baptism, a new life for us helping others.”

He wasn’t right for it. He was weak. He was prideful. He was jealous and angry and controlling… but Scott’s guilt burned in him, a tear in his heart he was certain he could never repair. There was no way for him to undo what he did. However, Kurt was so full of hope, a determination to do good and to be good that pulled on Scott like a magnet. For Kurt, he’d try.

Kurt would realize soon enough he wasn’t right. They’d find other heroes worthy to lead, men like Steve Rogers and Charles Xavier. Not like him. 

Until then, he’d stay by Kurt’s side.

“Fine. But I’m not leading this frankenstein ass team. I’m just here to keep you alive.”

Kurt smiled at that, grinned, even. “Hurra! Come on, let’s go find us a new home!”

With that, Kurt opened up a portal and practically skipped right through. Scott trailed behind, leaving corpses and the burning earth in his wake.

So off they go! Gonna get their rag tag team of misfits together!

I have not decided everything. In fact, I just came up with this today.

Confirmed characters that will join: Moon knight, daredevil, spiderman, deadpool, the worst logan, Venom, Jessica Jones, remy lebeau

Major themes and warnings: SHIT WILL BE GAY! Im not gonna tell yall right off the bat every ship that will be a thing but we know the x men are messy so there will be mutiple. For sure poolverine. Might have a few trans interpretations of characters if I wanna. If they are trans, im not necessarily gonna tell you right off. This is literally just me going "i like these characters I want them to be a team! I want them to kiss! i want to see them as friends! Homophobia wanring. Will likely include sa attempt, maybe SA but not shown bc this isn't dark. Will definitely talk about SA bc jessica jones so just be prepared, Ill warn yall. I will not necessarily tag everything right away because its v in development but consider this an adult story, 18+ that will talk about dark themes. However, again, this is not dark. Our heros do not SA people. Be prepare for drug use, alcoholism, talk of religion and catholic guilt, lots of religion talk, lots of gay sex and talk of gender. Adventures. Fun times. Episodic! each day they are forming their team with another person Doing crime fighting. We let venom eat bad people here.

Idk if anyone is gonna wanna read this bc its not actually x reader and pretty chaotic. But ima have fun.

if i tag a ship it doesnt mean its gonna be end game, and not tagging doesnt mean its not gonna happen.

lemme if you wanna be tagged going on! but im writing this for my silly enjoyment.

[regnantlight]

What if they kiss? A kiss of betrayal, a Judas kiss

“Come out of the water,” he told her.

No, she wanted to say, but her teeth were too clenched against the burning cold of frigid spring water. She kept her head bowed in prayer even as her lips turned blue and her skin dulled in a pale shiver.

This was their last chance. It had to work. It had to.

Get out of the water, Princess—

No, Pit.

Leave me be.

She blocked out Pit’s voice and the shuffling of Link’s feet moving back and forth from his post to the waters edge, blocked out any words exchanged between them—

This would work.

It had to work.

“She’s not doing very well.”

The words seemed to come in a flash, suddenly so loud where they had been muffled by distance merely seconds before. Zelda tried to open her eyes, but found them too heavy, and her thoughts submerged to a darkness that felt like a breath and a lifetime all at once.

When she came to, she was resting in Pit’s arms, his wings wrapped around her like an extra layer in addition to the piles of blankets placed atop her body. Some part of her recognized that her dress was missing. Another pieced together, with a detached sort of logic, that she must have succumbed to the cold and required aid. Removing the wet dress and replacing it with layers of dry cloth would have been the best course of action, in such case. She would likely have died otherwise.

Which meant she had failed, of course.

…of course.

Pit was a blurry image when she opened her eyes, slits of green meeting blue. He murmured something about Link being in his way with more supplies to help her. Heroic Link. Wonderful Link.

Oh. He was going to die, wasn’t he?

Oh…

“Pit,” her voice crackled and bled in the icy air, “help me back in the water—“

No, he told her. She was done. This was done.

But it could not be done—

“Please—I can do this—I command you—please—Pit, please—“

She wasn’t certain how long he held her as she begged in scraps of her voice. He responded the same every time.

No.

No.

No.

She struggled against him, but her body was weak, and it seemed as though he barely had to move at all to keep her still. Zelda lifted her neck to him, meeting his stare, her eyes glazed with tears that even then remained alert and steady. They would not fall. They could not fall.

Hyrule could not fall…

“Pit…is this the end?”

He stared at her, and she thought she saw something in his eyes that was screaming to be told—but then his head lowered, and his lips were on hers. It was warm; deliciously, wondrously warm, and soft, and it tasted of sadness.

So much sadness…

“No…you’ll see.”

He smiled at her, and she knew it was meant to be hopeful, yet she felt her heart breaking at the sight.

Pit held her until Link returned with a dish of chilies and clothes warmed by a fire. Her thoughts were clearer then. Pit was right, she reasoned. It wasn’t the end. There was no use going back to the water. It was time to return home and have faith that everything would be alright in the end. Faith in Hylia. In Pit.

Yet as she walked down the mountainside, she could not shake the horrible, heavy feeling in her chest.

For many nights after, she would wonder what would have happened if she had returned to the water.

[redwildfury]

Fault

⚠Warning:⚠ This story contains gore, death, and major character death. If this isn't your type of content then don't read.

This story was a dream I had. It was so detailed and so shocking to not write down. I hope y'all enjoy it!

The world was ending again. Pure chaos ran through the city of New York. Nothing but agonizing screams rang throughout the city. Corpses lay in a burning pile of lava. The city having a giant crack in the streets. Lava rising from deep within the earth. Rising until it broke the surface and melted everything within its proximity. The earth's crust had been broken. The core erupting and producing hot boiling lava. The people of New York cried out. All desperately trying to get to safety. Most were unsuccessful. And those that made it, did not last long. They suffered a boiling death. Ending in a suffering wail for help. But it was not only the humans that suffered such an agonizing fate. Mutants of all kinds within the city were not spared.

If the lava didn't take them out. The raining balls of fire surely would. In the sky, above the remaining skyscrapers. Fire rained down on those below it. A hot stream. It flowed like water onto the humans and mutants in the area. Casting them in red. Boiling they're skin into sores and bursting them from the inside out.

The clouds above were dark. The usual white fluffy clouds were more misted. More wavy and separated. Blue turned to black. Ash falling from the sky and coating the streets in gray. Buildings crumbled. The earth shaking as they crashed and fell. Being consumed by the lava. The city known as New York would be no more. And as the city crumbled around them. The people that were still alive cried out. Begging for a savior. Begging for hero's to step up and stop this madness.

But the hero's of New York could do nothing but watch. Their city fell before them. Destroyed by the very person they loved. This was all their fault. They caused this. They pushed him too far. Caused him too much pain and harm. Brothers were meant to stick together. They had left him. Left him to defend himself. Offering no help in hopes he'd make it out on his own. This was their doing. Now they would reap the choice they chose. Leonardo looked on in anguish. Yelling out in desperation to make this all end. This wasn't his brothers fault! He could fix this! He had to fix this! The planet they left him on was all his fault. The missions failure was his doing. Not his brothers. He caused this with his own words and actions. A choice he made and put the ones he loved most in danger.

Donatello hadn't been much help. The genius foiled the mission by setting off a bomb too soon. He blamed himself. None of this would be happening if it weren't for him. His mahony eyes filled with sorrow. Staring into the black sky above. If only he had calculated the attack correctly! The world wouldn't be ending! Humans and mutants wouldn't be suffering such a horrible fate. April would still be here if it wasn't for him! This was all his fault.

Michelangelo wasn't cutting himself much slack either. Much like his brothers, he blamed himself. The destruction of earth was his fault. Everyone would still be alive. The world wouldn't be ending if he hadn't caused his brother such pain. His heart ached. His baby blue eyes filling with tears. The agony of his cries echoing throughout the city.

The world wouldn't be ending if it wasn't for them. Leo believed they could stop this. That they could fix it. But how could you fix something that was broken? A broken being filled with rage was almost unstoppable. The damage had been done. Of how Leo planned to fix any of this, Donnie, nor Mikey knew. They were losing so much in such a little amount of time. Their city, their friend's, their brother. If only they had seen the signs. If they had picked up on it. Sensed that something was obscure. Not even Leo had detected anything.

And now, as Raphael peered down at the chaos below. His brother's crying out to him. Begging him to stop and come down. It was not enough to bring the beast down. Giant wings flapped behind him. Creating gusts of wind that forced lava into different directions. A long tail flicked behind him, it curling and straightening before starting to flick again. His body covered in red glowing markings, that swirled and twisted all over his head, arms, and legs. And his head was adored with two red horns.

Raphael gazed upon the city in judgment. The disruption of earth was inevitable. With the first time being a mistake. The Triceratons were not this world's fate. But his. This was his planet. He alone had the power to decide what happened to this place. His decision came at midnight. A choice that could not so easily be taken back. Was made within a quick motion of his hand. The earth spilt. Causing lava to erupt from the core and flood the city in boiling fire.

He possessed a power that not many had. Raph morphed into a deadly beast. A demon of fire and rage. All thanks to his beloved brothers.

Leo stepped with stride. Looking fear in the eye and facing it with a expressionless face. "Raphael! Please, stop this!" He begged. Mikey waved his arms, attempting to get his dragonic brothers attention. "Raph, please! We're sorry!! We didn't mean for it to happen!" The youngest wailed. Fresh tears fell from his eyes. Making them swell up and drown in a sea of hot tears. Donnie let the two speak. His mind more on how they could possibly reverse this. How they could fix their broken brother.

A scowl came to Raphael's face. The words his brother's spoke were not believed. They could speak a million words and none would be believed as true. "You expect me to believe that?" His voice boomed around them. Traveling through the destroyed city. This was the first time he'd spoken to them in weeks. Ever since they brought him home he isolated himself in his room. Only ever coming out to eat. He quit training with them. Quit spending time with them. Leonardo did take notice of it. But he had not been there for Raphael like he should have.

Raphael turned his gaze from them. Their cries meant nothing. Soon this city would be gone. And then, the world would be no more. Aliens from all over the galaxy would fear him. He would have complete control of the entire universe!

"Raph! Bro! Please! We didn't mean for it to happen!! We didn't mean any of it!" Mikey screamed to the sky. His hand reaching out to the brother he cared so much for. Raphael did not care to hear his little brothers please. The choice they made would cost them. What they did would not go unnoticed or unpunished. This planet would die by his hands.

Leonardo took a chance. He gestured to his brothers, grabbing his grappling hook from his belt and firing it at a nearby building. One far from the roof they were atop. One that wasn't melted to bits yet. Donnie and Mikey followed suit. Swinging with their grappling hooks to the building. They dropped down. Landing on an unmelted street. Standing directly bellow Raphael. It was a miracle Raph hadn't spotted them yet. They were thankful for him being more busy with throwing fire upon the city. It gave them time to come up with a plan. A plan of how to bring Raphael back.

While the three spoke with one another. Leo at the lead of making a plan. Raphael flew above them. His powerful wings carried him effortlessly. As he flew, his horns began to glow a bright red. Mikey caught sight of this. The youngest took the action upon himself to cover his two older brothers. Using his shell as a shield. Mikey was able to cover them just in time. Before the dragon above could breathe fire on them. The fire erupted from Raphael's mouth. It falling to the street and forming a river of lava.

A pain filled scream rang out beside Leo and Donnie. While they remained safe, their baby brother had not. Mikey's shell was melting in the middle. Raphael's fire having hit the orange masked turtle. His shell melted rapidly. It creating a hole and sinking into the flesh. "Leo!! Make it stop!!!!" He cried. Leonardo could do nothing. Nothing much watch as Mikey's shell melted. Blood poured out of the hole. Crimson ran down Mikey's shell and legs. Pooling at their feet. Donatello rushed to get his med kit. Pulling it from his belt and patching Mikey up as quick as he could. It wasn't enough. The blood wasn't stopping. No amount of gauze or wraps could fix this. They couldn't fix this.

"Donnie please! Make it stop make it stop!!" Mikey pressed his head against the buildings wall. This pain was unlike any other. He was being burned from the inside. The lava travelling quick into his system and filling him with pain. The lava burst some of his organs. Causing more blood to surface. Causing more pain. Causing more agony. It was a slow process. It being meant to be slow for Raphael's enjoyment. But Raphael wasn't even watching. His focus was on burning down a skyscraper. He hadn't realized what he'd done.

Leonardo gave Mikey to Donnie. Positioning the two so they held each other. He pushed away from the building and glared up at their dragonic brother. "Raphael!!" He screamed. Demanding the other to look at him. Raphael cut his eyes to Leo. Finally noticing them and witnessing what he'd done to Mikey. His expressionless face didn't help matters much. Leo hoped if Raph saw what he'd done that something would snap and he would come back to them. That wasn't the case.

A grin spread to Raph's face. His body turned so he could face them, arms crossing over his chest, and tail flicking from side to side. His wings flapped, keeping him above them. "How does it feel Leo? To have everything taken from you?" Leonardo said nothing. There wasn't anything he could say. "You left me on that planet. I was experimented on and turned into this" Raph gestured to himself, his hands being placed on his chest after. They then fell to his sides, his hands resting on his hips. "You only saved me because you couldn't endure the pain Mikey and Donnie felt. But not you. You could have lived without me. Without me constantly arguing with you. To question your authority. You could have left me to rot"

Leonardo's face scrunched up in anger. The words his brother spoke were unbelievable. This was not at all how he felt! "That's not it at all! We left you because we didn't have a choice!" Leo stepped forward, leaving Donnie and Mikey's side. Stepping into the dragons range. "We left you because we couldn't find you! The Triceratons held you somewhere we couldn't find. We didn't mean for any of this to happen, please Ra-" "Save your words" Raphael lifted a hand, his hand balling into a fist. Leo jumped, moving to the side as a ball of fire came down on the street. Cracking the concrete.

"You think you can fix this. Well you can't. You can't just expect me to bend to your will and do as you say. I'm not like you. I'm not the obedient son that Splinter loves so much" Leo stomped his foot, standing in front of his brothers, covering them and yelling out to Raphael. "If you would do as your told! And not go against everything I say I never would have left you! If you weren't such a burden to this team-" Leo gasped, he smacked his hands over his mouth and looked up to Raph with tears in his eyes. "Wait- no Raph! I didn't mean!-" the ground shook. Making the three stumble and fall. Lava burst through the ground. Just nearly catching the three.

Raphael dove, his wings stretching out as he glided over them. He flew behind them. His wings starting to flap as he hovered over them. "I won't burden you anymore. This world will burn..with you along with it" Raphael flew down and turned on his side. His wings outstretched. He came close to the ground, his wing cutting into the street and splitting it in half. The building the three were resting against fell. It crumbling and falling into the spilt earth. More lava surfaced. It consumed the building. Catching it on fire and burning it into nothing.

Raphael flapped his wings and flew up. Watching in amusement as the city fell. Watching as his brothers collapsed and fell into the splitting earth. Mikey reached out, crying with a smile on his face. The earth claimed his father in death. And now it would claim him. The lava took him first. It bursting his body and melting him into ash. Donnie curled in on himself. Falling into deaths grasp with tears streaming down his face. Surely it wouldn't hurt. Lava was powerful enough to burn a human on impact right? It would do the same to him. It wouldn't hurt. A blood curdling scream echoed down the split earth. An agonizingly horrible scream of pain and betrayal. His mind failed him. His knowledge failed him. Now, he granted the satisfaction of his demonic brother hearing him die.

Leo stared into the eyes of Raphael. Those emerald green eyes had never looked more threatening. Had never held so much anger and hatred. Even with so much hatred toward him, Leonardo still loved Raphael. They were family. Brothers of a kind. Nothing would change that. Not even death. "I love you… Raphael.." Leo fell into the boiling lava. His body was consumed. Eaten by the pit of hell.

Raphael looked on in satisfaction. This city was no more. The earth would die and the galaxy would be his! No one could stop him. Not even his..brothers. Raph flew down with care. His feet hitting the lava. He walked on the boiling lava. The heat doing nothing to him as he walked to where he'd spilt the earth. He looked over the edge. Expecting to see them grappling to the side. But they were not. They were gone. Consumed by the flame. Raphael dropped to his knees. Hot tears falling down and dropping into the lava. The moment they hit the lava the tears evaporated. Misting and rising into the air. "What have I done.." The realization hit hard them any fist ever could. Of all the battles he'd ever been in. This one hurt the most. "What…why did….why!?" The dragonic turtle looked up to the sky. Staring into the black void. His anger turned into sadness. Realizing what he done was unfixable.

The earth beneath his knees rumbled. The ground erupting with lava bursting from the earth's core. Rising up like a mountain and taking over the earth in a sea of red.

This could not be undone. It could not be fixed. His brothers were dead. They died by his doings. Raphael couldn't fix this. This was his fault. It was all his fault. "It's all my FAULT"

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Chapter 6

Some Kind of Death Wish

Numbers Game Masterlist

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k+

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Summary: You are tempted by Crocodile and Mihawk's offer. What would your sister say about you now?

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Alcohol, Cigars, Swearing, Angst, Smut, Established Relationship, Manipulation, Humiliation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Guilt, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Dom Dracule Mihawk, Cuckolding, Vaginal Fingering, Biting

A/N: I feel like my brain has been scraped out and replaced with this fucking fic, lol. I hope you enjoy the ride 🖤

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |

“You heard him,” Mihawk tutted, gesturing lazily. “The clown wants to watch us take care of you. No reason to feel guilty then.”

It felt like every part of your body was clenched together, shaking with more intense need than you ever thought possible. You were a raw fucking nerve.

“Let her be, Mihawk,” Crocodile sighed, but his large hand still burned your shoulder. “Just tell us when you’re ready.”

Buggy’s eyes had fallen away from you, staring at the coffee table. 

Your mouth opened and closed again, nothing but air coming out. 

“Of course, Crocodile. All we’re here to do is take care of our little treasure. I’d never want to start before she’s ready,” Mihawk drawled, leaning away from you as he sipped his wine, humming to himself before continuing.

“But I believe you are ready, aren’t you, little rabbit? I believe the only reason you’re not begging right now is because your body is aching so badly you can’t speak.”

Your lip quivered, the smallest whimper you’d ever heard pushed from your throat.

“Is that true, darlin,” Crocodile soothed, his low voice vibrating through you. “Do you want us to help you out?”

You didn’t know why you were stuck. Every part of you was screaming, ‘yes.’ But you’d piled so much guilt onto yourself over the past few days. And there was Buggy.

When Buggy had looked you in the eyes, and said he wanted to watch, your stomach twisted with something that wasn't guilt.

You managed to move, bringing your shaky hands up to cover your face.

“Alright, Miss Y/N,” Crocodile said, patting your back before removing the warmth of his hand. “Let’s call it a night.”

“Give her a few minutes. She’s almost there.” 

Mihawk sounded almost bored again. Detached. He’d stopped touching you, and his voice had lost its teasing tone. 

You could leave. You could go to bed. 

You wondered what your sister would say about you now.

That there’s something wrong with me. That I got myself into this fucked up situation. That I’ve got some kind of death wish.

Your hands dropped down to your lap, shaky breaths bringing you back.

Back to your body that was vibrating with near painful need.

There probably is something wrong with me.

You dug your nails into your thighs, shivering from the sensation.

But I might as well enjoy it. 

“Please.”

The word was barely audible, so you cleared your throat.

“Whatd'ya need, sweet girl,” Crocodile asked, his voice making your eyes flutter.

You looked up, Buggy’s eyes almost wild as he watched you. Your breath caught, losing momentum under his gaze. 

But he nodded. The corner of his mouth pulled into a smile, not of sadness, or joy, or anger. But of acceptance. 

A weight lifted. Parts of your brain tried to hold it there, to keep you feeling guilty. 

“What would you like, Miss Y/N?”

Mihawk’s voice made you sigh, even without its devious pressure.

You leaned back against the couch, the scent of these two men like some heady bait, luring you toward the hook.

Maybe you wanted to be caught.

“I want you to take care of me.”

It felt like you were a puppet, and all of your strings had been tied together, leaving your body trapped, frozen. 

Speaking those words cut your strings, and your body came loose, almost limp now as you felt free from your own bindings. 

Free to follow their strings now, and beg to be caught on their hook.

Crocodile shifted in his seat, turning toward you. His fingers trailed through your hair, coming to rest on your neck again.

He leaned down over you, kissing your temple.

“You’re our girl now, Y/N. I’ll make sure you get everything your pretty little heart wants.”

Mihawk startled you as he took your hand, laying a soft kiss on your knuckles.

“He’s right. You’re ours.”

His gaze was heavy, almost frightening again. Until this man who never smiles gave you a wicked smirk.

“Although, it’s not your heart that’s doing the wanting right now, is it? What does my little vixen crave?”

Once again, all he’d done was touch your hand, look at you, say a few words. But your head fell back onto Crocodile’s hand, and your mouth parted as you fought to keep your eyes on his.

He stared at your mouth, eyes focusing as you pressed your tongue out slightly to wet your lips. 

He squeezed your hand, tilting his head. Reminding you that he’d asked you a question.

“Please, sir. I want you to touch me.”

Oh, the thrill you felt at the way Hawkeye fucking Mihawk reacted to your words. He sucked in a breath, eye’s fluttering as he looked up slightly. 

It all looked muted, as if he had caught himself.

“Crocodile, I’m going to take care of our girl. Do you accept, or are we going to have a battle every night?”

Every night?

“I’ll watch the show, for now.”

He squeezed your neck, his gaze heavy on your skin. 

“Perfect. There is something I’ve been curious about,” Mihawk mused, bringing a hand to your jaw to tilt you toward him. 

You stopped breathing as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, his mustache and goatee lightly tickling your skin. 

It was almost chaste, until his tongue found its way into your mouth, dancing with yours. There was a rhythm to his kiss, and you could feel it slowly build. Like an ember into a wildfire, the heat grew until you were reaching for him, soft whines in your throat.

Then you moaned into his mouth, your eyes flying open to see his squinting slightly, almost mischievous. 

His fingers were under your dress, sliding easily between your thighs, the evidence of your need leaving you drenched.

You ate the satisfied hum from his mouth before he pulled away from the kiss. 

“Magnificent,” he purred, withdrawing his fingers from your thighs to hold them in front of your face.

Your skin flushed, and you pressed your knees together, embarrassment pulling at you.

“Our little pet may have ruined your coat,” Mihawk chuckled, spreading his fingers to show the other man the thick strings of slick, dripping down his hand onto your lap. 

The scarred man gave you a crooked smile, touching his hook to your chin. 

“Our sweet girl can get the money back for us, huh, sugar,” he teased, the potential threat only speeding your pulse. “Besides, we weren’t taking care of you. You should have told us how needy you were.”

He kissed the top of your head again as Mihawk reached down for more, letting his wet fingers shine in the light. 

“Did she ever get this wet for you, clown?”

You tensed, meeting Buggy’s eyes over that dripping hand.

He stared at it, jaw clenched. And said nothing. 

“You chose to stay and watch, Buggy,” Mihawk sighed. “If you’re going to sulk, then you can go back to your room like a child.”

“N-No,” Buggy answered softly.

“No, what,” Mihawk prodded.

Crocodile, started rubbing your neck with that large hand, soothing the tension that had built again. 

“No, she never got that wet with me.”

He could have left. He could have left.

You tried not to carry guilt for his humiliation. Not when he chose this one. 

And then he was ignored again, all attention back onto you. 

“Come here, darling,” Mihawk said, offering his hand. Crocodile lit his cigar, giving big puffs as he watched you stand. 

“This is a lost cause anyway,” the swordsman declared, pulling the larger man's jacket off the couch, and spreading it across the coffee table. 

Your knees were shaking, and you didn’t know what to do with your hands as you stood on the plush carpet, and waited. 

Mihawk sat back down, motioning for you. He grabbed your hips to stop you from passing him to your seat on the couch. 

“What…”

“In a few minutes, I’m going to lay you on that table, and give you that release you’ve been fighting for these last few nights.”

Your hands clenched in embarrassment again, but he soothed the words with gentle strokes of his hands along your hips and waist. 

He tugged at the bottom of your dress.

“Let me get it,” Crocodile demanded, leaning forward. Mihawk didn’t stop you from taking the few steps away. 

Crocodile pulled you gently, and you found yourself kissing another ex warlord of the sea. You stood between his thighs, tasting the rich flavors and smoke of his cigar. 

His fingers dug into your lower back, as if he was keeping you from running away.

You didn’t run.

That frightening face. 

It had smiled at you. It was kissing you. 

You traced your fingers on the sides of that face before wrapping your arms around his neck. 

His low growl pulsed through you, and his grip got even harder, the kiss deep and intense.

“Mm, I knew you were a sweet girl,” he praised, gently pushing you back a step.

“You won’t be needing these cheap rags anymore.”

You didn’t understand his smile. Until he pulled your dress forward with his hand, then pierced into it his hook, tearing the red fabric from your skin.

Gasping, you’d gripped onto his arm for support. 

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” he breathed, pulling you close again as his hand roamed over your lingerie and bare skin. 

Mihawk cleared his throat. 

“Yeah, yeah, swordsman. I just wanna check one more thing.”

He kept intense eye contact with you as his hand started at your knee, then slowly traveled up to find all that proof of how they affect you. 

He teased his fingers through the slick, sliding between your sticky thighs, until he reached your core. 

His hands were bigger than anyone's you’d even met. You didn't think any human could be as tall as him. 

Just one of those big fingers teased along your panties. 

Just the barest touch over your clothed clit sent you moaning, knees loosening. 

He’d used his one hand to tease you. When you stumbled, he caught your weight in that hand, cupping your needy pussy. You grinded yourself against his palm, digging your nails into his expensive shirt.

His laughs sounded more pleased than teasing, and he gave you a peck on the cheek as he helped you over to Mihawk, who seemed to be losing his patience. 

“Hold on,” Crocodile called after picking up his cigar again.

“If I knew it would be such a nuisance to shar–”

“Sweetheart,” Crocodile cut the swordsman off. “Are you on birth control?”

“Oh! Um, yes,” you blinked at him.

“Good. There’s more coming with your clothes and things for when your stock runs out.”

“Uh… Thank you,” you choked out, not sure how to feel about him buying you birth control before you’d had sex. But you were grateful that he had. 

“I told you, we’ll take car–”

“You’ve gone and distracted our pet now,” Mihawk pouted, finding his comfort wine again. You caught Buggy staring at you, and tried not to look his way again. 

“All that work I did to drive you mad,” the golden eyed man almost whined, “and now I won’t get to watch you break on my cock.”

Your eyes rolled back, and you stumbled again in front of him.

Chuckling, he tugged you down onto his lap. He pressed your back against his chest, all that bare skin sending heat right through you. You whimpered at the hard press of him against your ass, that tightness in your core begging you for release.

“Maybe it’s not all lost after all,” he purred in your ear, the tickle on your neck making your shoulders tense up. 

“Maybe my little rabbit doesn’t need much to make her desperate.”

One hand splayed across your stomach began trailing up to your chest. The other hand on your thigh teased closer, starting to slide in all that wetness. 

You didn’t mean to. But your hips dug in, grinding down to feel more of that hard length beneath you. 

He bit your shoulder, making you cry out, arching your back.

“Mm, you even like a little pain, do you? You are such a good girl for us.”

His praise felt incredible, almost like he was touching you, pleasing you. Your head fell back against his shoulder. You’d been ashamed when you let it happen earlier. 

But now you writhed in his lap, whimpering as he teased your neck with kisses and bites, the tickle of his facial hair adding to it all.

He hummed against you as one of his hands reached into your bra, massaging your breast, making you gasp with light pinches on your already hardened nipple. 

Finally, finally, his fingers reached your core, and you twitched at his playful touches. He spread your legs with his knees, then tapped his fingers up and down over your panties.

“I’ve never seen someone this wet before. You must have wanted us to take you so badly.”

His taunts weren’t questions, so you just kept whimpering, trying to press against those fingers to get some relief. 

“Is that what you’ve been picturing while this poor little pussy soaks your fingers each night?”

“Please,” you almost sobbed.

“No,” he chided, robbing you of even those torturing little touches, his hand rubbing over your thigh instead.

“Fuck, please…”

“I promise, little rabbit,” Mihawk rasped in your ear, his touch, his voice taking over your entire existence. “I will make you come so many times that you’ll beg me to stop. But first, you need to do what you’re told.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

His heavy breath, the hint of a moan sent your eyes rolling back, arching your back against him even more. 

“Tell me, what did you think about while you touched yourself these last two nights?”

Your head fell to the side, and you saw Crocodile watching your every movement, smoke curling in the air above him. His legs were spread wide again and…

Fuck.

Mihawk bit your neck, your body jerking at the sudden sharp pain.

“You won’t like what happens if I need to ask again, pet.”

“It was… I was thinking about — Fuck… I was thinking about both of you fucking me at the same time.”

You cried out with pleasure as Mihawk’s long fingers dipped into your panties. He played along your folds, then his masterful touch over your clit had you so close already, so fucking desperate. 

“Does my pretty pet want to come?”

“Yes, sir. Fuck, please.”

Two fingers slid into you, all your wetness readying you for him. 

His fingers curled, and he preyed on that perfect spot within you as his palm rubbed over and over on your clit.

You had never come that hard before. Your vision went blank, and you dug your nails into that velvet couch while you twitched and screamed. 

“You had better scream my name, rabbit,” he growled in your ear, biting your neck again.

You obeyed. You screamed it so many times, until your body was limp.

He hugged you against him, tracing fingers over your skin as he kissed your neck softly.

“Astounding. What a little treasure you are, hm? You did so well for me.”

You whined in his arms, eyes watering as your breath started to slow. 

“My turn.”

Crocodile’s gruff voice poured through you, making you twitch again. 

“I’m not done.”

“What else do you have planned, swordsman? Because I’d like a taste before you knock her out.”

You giggled, sitting forward. Mihawk grabbed your shoulders as you swayed in his lap. 

He sighed. 

“I suppose you’re right. I was going to make her come on my tongue next before testing how well our little darling can take cock.”

He hummed again, pressing kisses to your shoulder after you’d moaned at his words.

“Give her here,” Crocodile commanded, reaching out his arm. “I could use somethin' sweet to eat.”

Mihawk sighed, but helped you move, scooting you down the couch toward the larger man. 

Crocodile pulled you against his side in a hug, kissing the top of your head. You couldn’t help the contented sigh that left you. 

“Find somewhere else to sit, clown.”

You sat up, seeing Buggy’s red face, the faded greasepaint shining under beads of sweat. He stared at Crocodile with wide eyes, not meeting your gaze. 

“I said move. I’m gonna make Miss Y/N come in my mouth on that chair. Don’t make me–”

Buggy jumped up, twisting his body around to face the other direction. But he wasn’t fast enough to hide the press of his hard cock jutting from his lap, that stretchy fabric doing nothing to hold him in place. 

“Looks like the showman is enjoying the show,” Mihawk drawled, pouring yet another glass of wine. 

Buggy hopped around behind the couch. He leaned on his elbows over the back of it as Crocodile shook his head, helping you stand.

“Do you think the fool is capable of learning,” Mihawk wondered aloud. “Maybe if he watches–”

“Doesn’t matter,” Crocodile growled as he leaned over you. He smiled at you again, touching his fingers to your chin. Then he brought those huge fingers down to rub over your clothed clit again, drawing a breathy moan out of you as you fell back onto the chair. 

He knelt in front of you, gripping his hook below the armrest to pull you, and the chair, toward him.

“The clown’s never gonna taste anything this sweet again.” 

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: I don't even know what to say anymore. I'm going to go disintegrate.

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Chapter 7

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[electric--blanket]

a place where the heart rests

so, because @thekaiserroll drew fanart of my fanfiction i decided to return the favour by writing a long Wintersberg one-shot based off of her short comic! i hope you enjoy touch-starved Heisenberg.

warnings for death (not for main characters) and some angst.

read on ao3

--

Mama… I want mama. It hurts.

Where’s mama?

Karl Heisenberg always suffered from nightmares. Even before he was taken in by Mother Miranda — as a child, Heisenberg often experienced night terrors that had him screaming in his bed. There were distant memories in the back of his mind, where he’d wake from a terrible dream that had him screaming for his mother — and she’d always come to his side. In that terribly large, cold estate that Heisenberg once called home, it always felt so lonely. But, his mother always eased his fears; with her silk nightgown and the distinct smell of expensive soap. Her soft fingers would comb through Heisenberg’s locks of ashen brown hair, hushing him in a soft tone of voice — a voice he could no longer remember.

During the experiments, it was the only thing Heisenberg begged for when he felt the cadou infesting his body. It felt like a worm wriggling around in the wet soil during a storm, curling and writhing through his organs. He screamed for his mother, wishing she would save him from the pain and take him home again. A seventeen-year-old boy screaming for his mother to come and save him looked utterly pathetic from Mother Miranda’s perspective, and the feeling of fear only intensified when she stroked Heisenberg’s hair whilst he screamed. A soft whisper that uttered, “I’m your mother now, child.” It made Heisenberg nearly vomit.

That was the last time someone had ever touched him so tenderly. He’d not felt a loving touch since then and ducked away from Miranda’s so-called ‘motherly’ touches.

At first, Heisenberg coped with the intense trauma of his bodily changes by taking it in stride and calling his newfound power of magnetism a ‘gift’. He knew deep down it was the opposite: it stopped him from ageing, rendered him infertile and stripped away his dignity by becoming a slave to Miranda. It took a long time for Heisenberg to fully process what had happened to him. His father had left him in the clutches of a madwoman, and his life only got worse from there.

In a fit of rage — perhaps at the age of twenty-nine — he revisited his parent's estate to confront the man he could no longer call ‘father’. He had aged since Heisenberg last saw him, but those steel eyes he’d inherited were still as hard as ever. His mother lingered in a doorway just down the hall, but she didn’t dare come to greet her son as he snapped with a short, interrupted breath. Heisenberg had grabbed his father by the neck and pinned him to the nearest wall, knocking down a beautiful oil painting his mother adored. His fingers didn’t seem to stop, squeezing on the skin and bone until he felt a sickening crack vibrate beneath his fingers.

Heisenberg hadn’t meant it, not really. It was as if a demon had taken control of his body and sought revenge that barely mattered anymore. He didn’t realise what he’d done until he heard the sound of his mother screaming; distraught and fearful of her own son that she’d once coddled so long ago.

That was the last time Heisenberg saw his mother and father. The estate was quickly abandoned not long after, and from what he knew, his mother took her belongings and moved to Austria with some distant relatives. That large house teased Heisenberg every fucking day, with how it towered near the factory grounds and reminded him of what he’d done. Arson wasn’t exactly on his bucket list, but Heisenberg couldn’t resist taking a match to the place and watching it burn. Whatever childhood remained in that house was left in a pile of ashes, and he never looked upon it ever again. All of the silly dreams and hopes he’d had for his life were gone.

That was until Ethan Winters showed up. Nearly a hundred years later, Heisenberg felt something he’d sought after for so long — hope.

**

“Karl? Karl—!”

Mama. I want mama. Everything hurts.

Heisenberg forced his eyes open. It felt like his life was replaying in front of him whilst he was passed out; like watching an old film reel repeating itself and becoming more distorted each time. Up until that very night, Heisenberg’s life had been a series of traumatic events and unforgivable actions.

That night, he’d turned it all around just by laying his eyes on Ethan Winters. A man so incredible, resilient and insane… He’d do anything to get his little girl back. It was the man Heisenberg had oh-so wanted his father to be, and he admired that about Ethan. He’d never been so good at expressing his emotions honestly, or even laying out his ideas in a proper fashion to others… Oh, but Ethan was special. He’d shown Heisenberg patience that he’d not been offered before and decided to join him at his side to kill Miranda. Together.

“Karl… Fuck— Don’t die on me, asshole.”

Ethan… Ethan…

Above the metal remnants of what his mutated body had used as a shell, he could hear Ethan pushing the scrap aside to try and find Heisenberg buried beneath it. He could also hear the distinct cries of a distressed baby, something that brought him back to Earth. Heisenberg reached up through the metal until his bare, calloused fingers brushed up against Ethan’s soft knuckles. There was a moment of silence when their skin touched, but Ethan didn’t waste any time in grabbing Heisenberg’s hand and pulling him out.

The moment the pressure around his body ceased, Heisenberg felt the telltale feeling of sickening warmth seeping from many wounds across his body. The cadou inside him didn’t react too well to it, trying to cope with the trauma done by squirming and pulsating inside of him. Heisenberg drank in the expression of Ethan’s relieved face for just a moment, only until it warped into one of worry and horror. Heisenberg was weak, and his knees buckled beneath the weight of his torso before he fell back onto the ground.

The baby cupped carefully in one of Ethan’s arms began to cry again as Ethan jostled her accidentally in an attempt to help Heisenberg. A baby crying wasn’t really helping Heisenberg’s already distressed state, but it made him realise just how fucked he was. There was no way they would get away in time together, and Heisenberg was too injured to walk. The cadou might have helped to some degree, but it didn’t ease the burning pain in his body, and the loss of blood that was making him dizzy.

Ethan’s horrified expression was pinned on an appendage from the Megamycete, which rose up from the cave systems like a flower bud in spring, ready to bloom. The small, red flashing light alerted him to the fact that Chris Redfield had succeeded in planting the bomb. They had to leave.

“Go.”

A silence hung in the air for just a moment, and Heisenberg didn’t realise what he’d just said. For the first time in his miserable existence, he was being selfless and urging Ethan to leave him behind. It was the last thing Heisenberg wanted.

Don’t leave me here. I’m fucking scared. I don’t want to die yet.

“Fuck you,” Ethan’s voice trembled with venom, “I’m not leaving you here now. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

Heisenberg let out a bitter chuckle, tasting the blood seeping from his gums as he grinned, “I don’t think we have any time to be arguing about this, buttercup.”

“No. I— Mia’s dead, Karl. I need you.”

That��s right. Heisenberg briefly recalled Miranda’s kidnapping of the not-so-innocent woman and the experimentation that followed. Unfortunately, her body gave in due to her state after giving birth and she died on Miranda’s operating table. Ethan’s wife was dead, and Rose was now left without a mother’s loving touch.

“I said go. Rose needs her papa intact, not blown to pieces.” Heisenberg insisted, slumping back against the pile of scrap metal.

“Damn it—” Ethan looked hesitant to leave Heisenberg. It was a truly sweet sentiment: to see someone care about him after all this time. After all of the terrible things he’d done, and the love he’d been deprived of… Someone cared about him. Maybe that was enough. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to die like this.

“Fuck.” Ethan stammered again, licking his dry lips and swallowing, “Karl… I… Thank you.”

“... Yeah. I know, Ethan.”

That was all he needed. A trembling, watery smile shot his way before Ethan held Rose close with both arms and turned to run.

He’s going to be a great father.

Heisenberg looked up at the plant-like form the Megamycete had taken, looming down upon the ceremony courtyard with writhing mold creeping closer to Heisenberg. It was then that he decided that giving in like this wasn’t who he was: he was a fighter to his last breath.

In a last attempt to preserve his life, Heisenberg parted the pile of scrap metal and shuffled beneath it all. He rolled his wrist, the cocoon of metal surrounding him and tightening. The metal creaked, drowning out the sounds of the mold writhing around the metal to try and get inside. Heisenberg closed his eyes tightly, gritting his teeth. I won’t die. Not yet.

The explosion that followed shortly after was deafening, causing the entire ground to shake beneath him and the metal to shudder against his body. It felt painful, rippling off his injured skin like that… But, fortunately for Heisenberg, the explosion wasn’t nuclear — the blast was enough to do the job and wipe out the mold and the Megamycete.

A silence followed the explosion, brick and ash collapsing against Heisenberg’s metal cocoon. Each noise made him flinch, and his fingers twitched instinctively as some final line of defence. He didn’t know how long it was before he felt brave enough to let his guard down and release his telekinetic grip on the metal. The scraps suddenly slumped, collapsing around him as Heisenberg pushed the metal off of his body and emerged like a phoenix rising from the ashes of its former self.

The smoke and dust still remained, causing Heisenberg to cough heavily as he took a sharp inhale of the air. He squinted through the dust and remains of what was left of his home town and realised how much he’d lost. It hit him all at once; his childhood, his parents and his fucked up little family. Even though he hated Miranda and his makeshift siblings deeply, they were all he truly had left to call ‘family’. It was over in the blink of an eye, and Heisenberg suddenly felt like a child all over again. Like a child waking from a nightmare, scared and alone.

Heisenberg’s fingers twitched into tight fists, clamping his mouth shut as tears threatened to spill down his face. Even after all this, he tried to will himself not to cry, to never let down the walls he had so carefully built. But, at that moment there was nothing left to keep the foundations upright. Heisenberg’s fists loosened, and he brought his hands up to cover his face instinctively. A knot seemingly untied itself in his chest and throat, and a guttural sob left him. Maybe — just maybe — it was okay.

**

Navigating the woods was even worse during a snowstorm at night. It was bad enough that Heisenberg’s body was weak from his healing injuries, but it felt haggard from his intense emotional breakdown. In a strange sense, he felt relief from it but at the same time, it felt awfully inconvenient. Heisenberg was sure he looked like a terrible mess; his clothes were torn and his hair was damp with clumps of ash hanging from his silver locks. Not to mention the blood staining his clothes, and his valuable dog tags that hung low on his chest.

In his many idle chats with Ethan before they fought Miranda, he could recall the other man mentioning he didn’t live too far from the village. It was a fair distance away, but not too far that it would be impossible to reach if your car broke down on the road between them. Still, it wasn’t a pleasant or short walk.

By the time Heisenberg even managed to reach a place that looked like a livable home, he was close to collapsing in the snow… But, he held out. The lights were turned off inside, but a motion sensor light on the property turned on once Heisenberg got close enough. The bulb blinded him briefly, and he held a hand up to shield his eyes as he walked up the porch to the door. Heisenberg sluggishly lifted his hand, knocking on the door as hard as he could and leaning against the frame. It took a few moments before he could see a light turn on inside from the windows, and the sound of someone walking down a wooden staircase slowly.

The person on the other side of the door stopped before they reached for the doorknob, and they spoke out.

“Who is it?”

Ethan Winters. That voice Heisenberg had missed so dearly; in all of its glory and full of caution. It almost made him laugh.

“Let me in, Ethan. I’m freezing.”

“Karl?”

“As smart as ever, Ethan. Can you hurry up?”

Ethan was quick to unlock the door and remove the security chain, twisting the doorknob and pulling it open. There, Ethan was standing in a pristine white shirt and some boxers that hung low on his hips… Along with a pair of comical slippers that seemed to resemble a cartoon dog. Heisenberg’s lips twitched into a tired grin.

“Oh my, too much skin, Ethan. Back in my day—”

“Shut up and get in here!”

Ethan grabbed Heisenberg’s arm, tugging him inside to shield him from the snowstorm outside. He slammed the door shut and quickly locked it back up, and the two men finally stood face-to-face. There was a silence that hung in the air, with so many unanswered questions on the tip of Ethan’s tongue, but none came. Without any further hesitation, Ethan threw his arms around Heisenberg’s neck and tugged him close for an embrace.

It was the first time Ethan had touched him in such a way. So full of affection and genuinity, it made Heisenberg’s fingers tremble with uncertainty. He didn’t know what to do with his hands: so overcome with the touches that smothered him. His brows creased into an expression of relief, and Heisenberg’s steel eyes fluttered shut as he succumbed to the hug. He wrapped his arms around Ethan’s waist, squeezing him carefully and burying his face into Ethan’s shoulder. The smell of talcum powder and formula milk permeated his shirt, giving Heisenberg the comfort he craved. He never wanted Ethan to stop touching him, and he was content to stay like this for as long as he could — to make up for all the time he’d lost aching after affection.

“I thought…” Ethan mumbled slowly, “I thought you were dead.”

“Mm.” Heisenberg hummed lowly in response, curling his fingers into Ethan’s shirt. “So did I. Turns out I’m hard to kill.”

Ethan snorted softly.

**

As it turned out, Heisenberg wasn’t too bad with kids.

It was a tough adjustment for the two men at first; Ethan had to keep Heisenberg a well-guarded secret as he was moved to a new location with Rose (courtesy of the BSAA). Heisenberg followed their steps at a safe distance, but he was never too far from them. Understandably, Ethan was moved into a smaller home: a humble bungalow in a quiet German village. Once the BSAA had left Ethan in peace with Rose, it didn’t take long before Heisenberg settled into the bungalow with them.

Ethan had insisted that if Heisenberg was going to stay there with him and Rose, then he’d need to learn to help take care of the baby. At first, he was extremely hesitant to do something akin to a parental figure… But, Rose was a surprisingly sweet baby. She didn’t fuss too much and rarely threw a tantrum over the little things. Rose was the right amount of responsibility for Heisenberg, and that made him a patient parent.

He’d been taught how to properly hold her (after many lectures), how to prepare her formula and change her. Rose was understandably unhappy with Heisenberg’s presence at first, perhaps longing for her mother that was no longer around… But, after a few months, she took to Heisenberg very well.

Because of Karl’s lack of mortality and infertility, he never thought he’d take the figure of a father like this… But, it wasn’t exactly an unwelcome opportunity. He’d even upgraded from sleeping on the couch to Ethan’s bed.

The first night Ethan invited him to bed, Heisenberg could tell from the flustered look on Ethan’s face that it took a lot of courage to ask him to bed. A sexual joke lingered on the tip of Heisenberg’s tongue, but he bit it back in favour of keeping the proposal on the table. Instead, Heisenberg had nodded with a cheeky grin and followed Ethan to bed.

There had been some nights where the loss of Mia hit Ethan harder than he’d liked it to — even after Mia’s work with The Connections was revealed, he had still loved her to a degree. Those nights were the hardest. All Heisenberg could do was hold Ethan in his arms and comfort him with nothing more than his presence.

This invitation into Ethan’s bed was far more intimate than a comforting hug. At first, they stayed a polite distance apart on either side of the bed, with Ethan turned on his side whilst Heisenberg stared up at the dark ceiling. In the darkness, his eyes created shapes that danced across the ceiling and warped before him. Much like the mold that infested him, it was as if it continued to taunt him with its presence. After a moment, Heisenberg finally turned onto his side and glanced at the lump that was Ethan with his back to him. That urge to touch returned to the forefront of Heisenberg’s mind. It was that deep ache in his chest, like a lump of flour stuck in a smooth dough that needed to be coaxed inward.

He reached out but stopped himself before he could touch, trying to plan the best way to move forward with what he wanted. Heisenberg pursed his lips, shuffling his body closer to Ethan’s back until he finally slid his arm over Ethan’s waist. He could feel Ethan’s body freeze and tense up a little, which made Heisenberg’s heart feel like stopping altogether. Had he gone too far?

But after a moment, Ethan relaxed, pressing his chest back into Karl slowly. It was all the permission he needed to slot himself fully against Ethan and quietly seek out his hand. Once Heisenberg found it, he carefully laced their fingers together as he held Ethan like that, tugging him close with his elbow.

No words were spoken in the darkness, but a silent understanding of what they both wanted. Heisenberg finally felt complete like this, closing his eyes and exhaling tiredly. His body suddenly felt tired, releasing all the tension it had been holding trying to psyche himself up to do it.

A feeling of affection swelled in Heisenberg’s chest as he held Ethan, finally giving in to the darkness and drifting away with their bond now stronger than ever.

**

“Are you fucking insane, Ethan?!”

Chris Redfield. A thorn in Heisenberg’s side, but not as bad as Miranda. His voice filling their home put Heisenberg on edge, but it didn’t really matter too much to him. It was around ten in the morning, and the couple had just had breakfast. The television was on, playing some cartoons in the background as Rose was sitting on the soft carpet of the living area with her toys, and Heisenberg sat close to her.

When Chris made an unexpected visit, and he spotted Heisenberg in the living room, the yelling began. Ethan had kept Chris just outside of the room so that Rose didn’t see her father getting angry, and Heisenberg made sure to keep her attention on her toys. Heisenberg was wearing a pair of tartan boxers, along with a button-up pyjama shirt with a white tank top beneath it. It wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of bedtime fashion, but it made him comfortable enough at night.

When the yelling only got worse and Rose seemed irritated by the noise, Heisenberg carefully brought Rose into his lap and crossed his legs.

“Hmm,” He hummed in feigned thoughtfulness, “Does ol’ Karl need to perform for little Rose again?” Heisenberg sighed dramatically, “Oh, the things I do for you.”

He turned his body subtly to the kitchen area, holding his hand out and focusing on one of the drawers. It slid open, a few tablespoons floating out from a cutlery tray. Heisenberg pulled his hand back, the spoons floating across to the living area and bringing them to a stop in front of him and Rose. With a simple, slow roll of his wrist, the spoons began to twirl and move in a circular motion above Rose.

Her eyes widened with fascination, the corners of her mouth opening into a gleeful smile. Absently, she reached up with her soft, pink hands and tried to reach for the spoons half-heartedly as they continued their motions. A soft laugh bubbled from her, causing Karl to smile softly.

“He’s a dangerous bioweapon, Ethan. He could hurt Rose!”

Heisenberg managed to hone in on those words; a sharp pain digging into his chest when he realised the implications Chris was trying to make. That Heisenberg was a monster. A bioweapon without feeling. A creature that would kill a child.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ethan pointing wordlessly at the soft scene of Heisenberg with Rose in his lap, entertaining her with spoons. That was all he needed to say, really — without even saying it. Even Chris was at a loss for words, and he quietly relented. Ethan was surely in for an afternoon of lectures.

It made Heisenberg smile a little more, turning his head subtly towards Ethan and catching his gaze. It was his quiet way of saying thank you. It went beyond thanking Ethan for trusting him with Rose but thanking Ethan for listening to Heisenberg, taking him into his home and loving him. Even though they’d never spoken those three little words out loud, maybe they didn’t need to. Their actions, affections and closeness spoke those words loud enough.

Truly, after all this time, Heisenberg didn’t think he was capable of ever being loved or trusted. Now that he’d left that horrible life behind, he was now a father, a friend and possibly a lover. The trauma would always remain, yes, like the cadou and the mutations. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be happy like this, in this simple little life he’d started to build with Ethan.

Maybe it would be okay.

[bluecookies02]

Dabi x Reader x Hawks

It was always the three of us-NSFW

summary: DabiHawks is already established and the two of them are dating. You've been their best friend for years and them getting together feels like two heartbreaks at once. But- Take a guess man I dunno...I'm under the impression tht they like you too🤷‍♀️

❗️warnings❗️: slight angst (only the begging, your heart will be fine I promise), eating out, threesome, double penetration, creampie, praise...sex?

word count: 3k

Edited 13. January 2021

You're sick of it.

There's always a bittersweet taste on your tongue when the three of you hang out now.

Nothing really changed if you were trying to look at it objectively.

They still talked to you like before.

Invited you over, chilled with you, fuck even watched movies and cuddled with you.

Yet there was a string being pulled at your heart every time they kissed in front of you, held hands, whispered to each other...

You were watching a stupid comedy, your eyes blankly looking at the screen while you tried not to focus on the way their fingers tangled together, drawing small circles over each other's knuckles as they laughed at the screen.

Their hands were on the pillow that was placed in your lap, your small form in between them.

You try to focus back on the movie, ignoring the sound of cloud nine laughter that filled your ears.

You missed half of the scenes already, you can't make yourself watch it at this point, so you zone out again, falling down the rabbit hole you always find yourself in.

"Songbird, everything alright?" Keigo's worried voice snaps your attention back to reality, his brows furrowed as he stares at your glistening eyes. You don't know how much time passed but you didn't know you were so close to crying until his voice snapped you out of it.

Dabi's hands find purchase of your cheek, turning your face to him so that he could see what made Hawks turn off the TV.

You're met with blue eyes, a look of utter concern causing your skin to crawl, making it hard to fight the urge to punch something, anything.

"Talk to us doll, you know we're here" your heart shatters in pieces, hot tears piling up until they began to freely fall down your face, your fists clutching the pillow, your knuckles turning white.

They've seen you cry many times before, both of their arms flying around you to hold you tight, but your arms pushed and nagged at theirs, your small body shaking and kicking them away.

The fucking nicknames, the closeness of their bodies made you feel like you were suffocating, finally being able the breathe once they let go and you ended up on your feet.

You took a large gulp of air. You've practiced this. Replayed the sentence over and over until you learned how to say it even through tears. At this point, you couldn't keep stitching your heart up every time you spent time with then.

"I can't hang out with you guys anymore" it felt like a weight being lifted off your shoulders until you looked back at them. You're gonna do this and then cry when you get back home. You got this.

"What the fuck? Why?" Dabi was the first one to speak, standing up and coming closer to you until you stepped away.

He grits his teeth and stays in place, Keigo's fingers pulling the hem of his sleeves to let you have your space.

"I...I think we at least deserve an explanation...yeah?" Keigo's broken voice surged through the room, Dabi's hand reaching out to his in an act of comfort.

Your eyes burned through their hands but you nodded nonetheless.

"After I say this I don't want to hear a word from any of you. Not a single one of pity or comfort or any of that." they hesitantly agreed, Hawks pulling Dabi back on the couch.

You began nervous laughing ,fighting the new wave of tears as you opened your mouth to speak.

"So. Haha...fuck...I'm in love with you guys. Fucking hilarious right" your forced laughter burned their ears, making them cringe.

"It was a really great time for a long while wasn't it?" you joked, clapping your hands together and squinting your eyes. You have no idea who you'll be without them, but you'll have to find out.

Two pairs of arms tackled you, almost making you fall to the floor, your feet losing balance as they held you up. You want to fight, yet you know you can't win, so your body settles for shutting down, you're ears buzzing and doing their best to cancel out any words they're about to let out.

"You're the dumbest bitch I know" Dabi mumbled into your hair, pulling you into his chest as Keigo's hands stayed on your hips. "You're such an idiot" Dabi lets out again, soothingly petting your back in an effort to calm you down.

You were a mess, mumbling confused nonsense, almost offended until Hawks reached for your chin, turning your head to him and smashing his lips against yours.

"It was always the three of us wasn't it doll?" Dabi questioned, pushing Keigo's face away and kissing you deeply.

Hawks tried to act annoyed for a second, fluffing his feathers and puffing up his cheeks before a smile fought onto his lips.

Your brain was running laps against your skull, everything feeling dizzy as you gripped at the hem of their shirts.

Dabi finally pulled away, his mouth hanging open as he caught his breath.

You thought about this possibility every passing second of your days, a small part of you hoping for something you deemed irrational. Yet it made sense, their hot breaths against your neck and airy laughs against your skin sending goosebumps all over to your tippy toes.

"Be ours, songbird" you only managed to nod, hiding your face in your hands as now happy tears welled up.

Two hot mouths kissed your knuckles, moving your fingers aways and pecking both of your cheeks and eyelids. You open your eyes, blinking the tears away.

A pair of red wings wrapped around all three of you, squeezing and flapping excitedly. They talked about this, dreamed about this, hell they won't go to the extent that they fantasized about you, and they are so mad that you had to go through this before they gathered the balls to do something about it.

You watched the two kiss sweetly, squishing you between them. A quiet moan leaves your lips when you see Dabi reaching a hand around Keigo's neck, his large palm plastered over his throat, his fingertips lightly pressing down when Hawks tried to pull away.

Your body shivered, your arms lending up to tug at the hero's hair, feasting on the small pants that left his lips when you latched onto his neck. He doesn't know whose lips he would rather chase as both of you move away.

Dabi fights against the wings, glaring at Keigo to let both of you go.

When he reluctantly complies, Dabi is quick to pick you up and drape you over his shoulder, smacking your ass and chuckling when he hears your scream. It certainly lightens the mood.

Hawks follows behind the two of you, skipping steps and closing the door behind Dabi when he enters the bedroom. He's like an overgrown puppy, excitedly waiting for a treat.

Your back hits the cushion, the villain's shirt being stripped off him by Keigo's rushing hands.

You're already rubbing your thighs together, mouth-watering as you catch a glimpse of his abs.

You don't have that much time to enjoy the view, since his hands are on you in seconds, gripping at the hem of your sweater. You sit up, raising your arms to help him out, your shirt following suit and flying to the floor carelessly. The blonde kneels on the bed, joining Dabi.

Heated hands cup your breasts kneading at the flesh while his mouth latches onto your nipple.

Hawks scoffs at his greedy boyfriend, lowering himself to your neck, mouthing at the skin as your body jolts after a particularly rough bite to your flesh. Keigo is definitely the gentle one, kissing your skin and humming softly while he takes his sweet time with you.

"He's going too fast isn't he little birdie?"

You're not sure if you can answer it...it's too much of both fast and slow, your nerves getting the best of you as he waits for your response .

Hawks gets it, he does...but he still wants to give an option of slowing down, tangling his fingers in his boyfriends hair and pulling him away only slightly.

Dabi's pierced tongue lolls out, giving a teasing flick at your hardening nub, followed by more as he swirls it around, grinning and looking up at you. The contrast of the hot tip of his tongue and the metal sending your brain into an overdrive.

He's still held back by Keigo, but he doesn't fight the pull, instead he finds himself unbearably hard from being bossed around like this.

You pull him back by the nape of his neck, Hawks' grip loosening so that you can stuff his mouth full of your plump flesh.

That is enough of an answer to him.

Keigo's fingers trail your stomach, ghosting over your belly before going to the buttons of your pants. He waits for a few moments, leaning his forehead against yours, pecking your lips before moving in between your legs.

Once you lightly nod, he unbuttons them with ease, moving down to pull them off your legs.

You look down at Dabi, eyeing the numerous hickeys on your tits. He looks up, darting his tongue out and licking over the bruised marks, smirking when you swallow over the lump in your throat. Your skin there is now mostly purple and red, some patches even grazed with small specks of blood threatening to seep out.

You hear a ruffle of feathers, a blush plastered across Keigo's cheeks as he inches his hand closer to your panties. He can see how wet you are, the material sopping up your arousal. His touch is gentle but heavenly good, his fingers gliding between your clothed folds.

Keigo's free hand grips the bulge in his pants, trying to ease some of the pressure by pressing on it.

Dabi moves to sit behind you, spreading his legs for your tiny form and pulling you against his chest. He had his fill for now and he wants to watch the show. He knows Hawks looks pretty with his mouth full.

He lifts you up so that the hero can slip the panties off, sitting you back down and spreading your legs once the layer isn't in the way anymore.

Cold air hits your exposed heat, your pussy clenching around nothing. You would be ashamed if you didn't hear the low growl coming from Hawks as he settled his face between your thighs. You smell fucking delicious, blood rushing to his ears as he takes a look at your sex.

His wings tighten against his back before spreading  out when he takes the first lick. You lean all of your weight onto Dabi when Keigo's hands dig into the back of your thighs, opening them out as he starts lapping at your cunny.

Dabi's breath hits your ear, a shudder rumbling through his chest when your pliant body humps against the blonde's tongue. His large hands snake up to play with your breasts, kneading the tortured nub between his fingers as he ghosts over the marks he left on you.

Turning your head to him, you pull him in a kiss, moaning when Keigo circles two digits over your sex.

You impatiently wiggle your hips to push them in, combing your fingers into his hair to will him on.

Dabi's arm is now securely wrapped around your belly, holding you tight while he explores your mouth, his piercing clicking against your teeth.

You taste like everything he needs and more, his bulge throbbing in his sweats and against your body, impatient to finally have you.

"Hawks." his voice is stern but begging, urging his boyfriend to stretch you out already.

You're already so wet, and the two digits slip in and out with ease, your juices gushing in Keigo's palm all while his tongue doesn't stop swirling at your clit.

Dabi impatiently slips his cock out of his sweats, raising you up to push against Kei's fingers.

Hawks scolds him, but pulls out nonetheless, guiding Dabi's length over your slit, silking him up in his own spit. You mewl when he prodes at your entrance, biting your lip as you wait for the stretch.

It burns, but you feel so heavenly full, His large cock pushing to the hilt in one slow thrust, His tip fitting snuggly against your cervix.

Dabi's breathing is ragged and heavy on your shoulder, his eyes shut tight as he savors the warmth of your cunt.

"Fuck Keigo, you have no idea what you're missing out on."

You look down at the blonde, his tongue darting out to lick along Dabi's base, going between his cock and your pussy, mouthing at where the two of you connect.

Hawks is somewhat keeping his cool but his cock humps against the bed, his whole body swaying as if he's dragging his dick along your skin.

Dabi slowly ruts into you, deep and torturous. Your eyes widen when you feel a finger try to push in, the villains' movement coming to a stop as he tries to comfort you. Tears start pricking in your eyes, your legs trying desperately to close as you urge them to stay open. You want it, you truly fucking do, but when you feel another try to slip past your tight walls you're not sure if you're gonna stay conscious. There's already no place left just from Dabi alone and shit, you feel like screaming.

"Please baby, I promise it'll feel better soon, can you be a good girl for us hmmm?I believe in you..." Keigo's voice rings in your ears, your half-lidded eyes looking at your stretched pussy, watching the fingers pump knuckles deep in and and out, dragging between Dabi's cock and your walls.

You're so fucking wet and covered in slick, your folds glossy in your essence, pooling around Dabi's shaft.

A warm hand rests on your belly, easing your muscles, and relaxing you. There's a third finger pushing against the first two, the stretch surprisingly not as painful as the previous.

Keigo leans over you, kissing away the tears that ran down your cheeks, massaging the ravenette's arousal with the pads of his fingers.

"We're so so proud of you dove...Thank you so much" your chest swells with pride, a wide smile adorning your face. You do feel like you're being tricked with these comments but it doesn't matter, they seem to work.

The blonde pulls the other man in a kiss, slipping his fingers out of your core as he aligns his head with your cunt.

Both of them move to each side of your face, placing their lips at the corners of your mouth. You gulp, filling your lungs and holding your breath.

Your hands fist Keigo's shirt, pulling and almost ripping the poor thing apart when he prods the tight rim. Fuck it's so hard to breathe, air practically knocked out of you, your shaky hands wrapping around Hawks.

Inch by inch, he bottoms out, groaning at the tightness around his dick.

Minutes pass by, your boyfriends lavishing and worshiping your skin with kisses and gentle touches, loving every part of you they could reach.

The hero's wings wrap protectively around both of you when he starts moving, his head pressed against your shoulder.

Dabi seems to pick up the pace too, thrusting in as soon as Keigo almost pulls out. The rhythm isn't rushed at first, both of them moaning with each throb of your walls around their lengths.

They're taking their sweet time, angling their hips experimentally, noting the way your body shakes at each perfect plow into your cunt.

It's too good and too much, the knot in your tummy already threatening to snap loose. And the boys are on the verge of their highs too, gradually becoming more and more greedy, not pulling out almost at all, pounding and rutting against your cervix.

Dabi's grip on you tightens, trying to keep your body in place as he and Hawks rock into your pussy. Keigo moves from the crook of your neck, raising his hand to get a hold of the villain's jaw, smashing their lips together .

You're squished in between them as they moan into each other's mouth groaning when they feel you squeezing around them.

They're gonna cream you so good, pump their seed into your hole and make you so so full...you'll never settle for anything less after them and they fucking know it.

Your eyes swell with tears as you feel the knot finally snapping loose, you don't want it to end, you don't want them to ever move away from you but your body works against you, bringing you to the most powerful orgasm you ever felt, surging through your muscles and making them flex and clench.

Both of them look at eachother, eyes wide and blown with lust as they cum at the same time, hot seed coating your walls and leaking down Dabi's shaft.

They're panting, their foreheads touching as they caress your body all over.

"I love you..." Hawks says breathlessly, his eyes closed and his wings folding against his back, giving you all room to move and breathe.

He slips out, causing the rest of their cum to seep out. Dabi scoffs at the mess smeared over his length and thighs, slowly handling your body and moving you off his lap.

Dabi picks you up and Hawks chuckles. "You like carrying them huh?"

It earns him a glare, placing you in the heroes arms and making his way to the bathroom.

"I.Have.My.Own.Cum...Dripping down my ass" he hisses out making Keigo wheeze, almost tumbling over and dropping you.

You can't help but smile, nuzzling your head into your winged boyfriend's shoulder.

Everything clicked in place finally, your eyes closing in comfort as you let them take care of everything...take care of you.

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁

been a hot minute since I wrote something a bit longer but here we r.

Please leave a comment and reblog cause I'm a whore for feedback, tnx💕

requests:closed

commissions:open

Ko-Fi | Patreon

[twiceinadream]

“Make me yours.”

Requested: Yup

Request: shy! Alphas dahyun and tzuyu mating reader for the first time. Like there shy until she just begs them to take her and something jus flips?

a/u: Hey, y’all, I’m back! I’m so sorry I was gone for so long, writer’s block and life haven’t really been my friends for the past seven weeks, but I finally managed to finish a fic! I hope you enjoy it and my slow return back to posting. Also thank you so much for 3,000k+ followers, I love you guys!

Category: NSFW and Fluff

Word Count: 2.8k

Clouds began to crowd the sky as the morning light was blocked by the downpour that had seemed to manifest out of thin air, the streets made slick with rain as early commuters combated with the elements. But it also created a peaceful atmosphere for you and your girlfriends as the light tapping of the rain against the floor-to-ceiling windows gradually roused you from the depths of sleep, a loud yawn erupted from your lips as your eyes fluttered open.

The scent of the two Alphas snuggled on either side of you filling your senses as you reveled in the moment, enjoying the feel of their bodies against yours until it seemed like you began to burn up. Your skin felt clammy as sweat began to bead along your hairline, the feel of fire felt like it was beginning to claim the pit of your stomach when an overwhelming sense of urgency coursed through your veins, ‘You were in heat.’

The comforter covering your bodies felt suffocating as you pressed your thighs together in an effort to stop the wetness from sleeping out on the bed, while you did your best to weasel away from the women clinging to you. Holding your breath as you snaked your way to the edge of the mattress so you could make a bolt to the en-suite, locking the door behind you as your legs finally gave out from under you and helplessly slid onto the floor.

Your underwear was completely soaked in your slick as you barely had enough strength to peel them off you before discarding them on the bathroom floor. The feel of the tile under your heated skin did wonders to relieve the burn you felt as one of your hands began sliding it’s way down to the burning between your legs. You shyly toyed with your slit as your fingertips dipped shallowly into your center, running your fingers through the wetness but stopping before you could properly pay attention to your clit as more of your essence began spilling out. Drenching your hand in wetness as you finally gave in and plunged into your depths. Your walls immediately tightened around the sudden intrusion as a guttural moan released itself from deep within your chest, your hand pistoned itself in and out of your entrance as you could feel your first release building up inside of you. The cool in your stomach growing taught as you pulled your fingers out from inside and moved up to attack your clit.

Your fingers frantically flicking, rubbing, and circling the straining bundle of nerves as your eyes remain squeezed shut, your breathing beyond labored as you balled your fist against the tile. Your body bracing itself as it froze for a fraction of a second before releasing all the tension it had stored within itself.

Streams of pent up arousal came shooting out of you as you continued to focus all your energy onto your clit as your peak took you to heights you never thought imaginable. You were becoming acutely aware of the screams echoing off the bathroom walls that you finally recognized as your own as your orgasm finally died down. Slight jerks wracked your body as your hand fell to the side, a content smile forming on your lips as the aftershocks of your orgasm thrummed throughout your body. A contented sigh falling from your lips as you rested peacefully against the bathroom door, until a knock sounded cr behind it.

“Y..Y/N? Are you okay?” Your blood ran cold as Dahyun’s voice sounded from behind the door.

“Mm hmm.” You hummed, “Everything’s fine!” You tried to sound more put together than you felt to mask the fact you were in heat and surrounded by your two, unmated girlfriends.

“No you’re not.” It was Tzuyu this time. “We can smell you from underneath the door.”

‘Well, shit.’ You mused to yourself as you slowly began to stand up, ‘That didn’t work.’ You sighed, knowing it was impossible to put off the inevitable, “Okay, fine. I’m coming out.”

To say you were nervous would be a gigantic understatement as you braced yourself to face your girlfriends. Exhaling slowly as you pushed the door open to find the two Alphas you had left in bed this morning staring at you, “Morning.”

Dahyun and Tzuyu deadpanned as they stood up straighter, your scent finally hitting them in full force as they took in your appearance. From the flush of your cheeks to the clenching of your thighs, “You’re in heat.”

It was your turn to deadpan as you looked at Tzuyu, “No shit, Sherlock.”

Dahyun suppressed a laugh as she tried not to look at the stunned disbelief on the taller Alpha’s face, “What Tzumong meant to say was, ‘Would you like some help with it?’.”

You giggled slightly, “Depends.” A coy smile grew on your face as you palmed the Alpha’s bulges through their boxers, enjoying the way their alpha-hoods swelled under your touch. Their scents combined into a dominant musk that made your mind spin and your core clench. “What do you have to offer?”

-

Tzuyu huffed a laugh and sat on the bed beside you, reaching her hand between your legs to rub at your swollen, slick clit to ease the need that your heat would be bringing without someone inside you. Dahyun quickly pulled her shirt and bra over her head, tossing them both to the floor and eased her boxers the rest of the way down her legs. She watched with a smile on her face as Tzuyu teased you and pressed her own erection up against you, grinding to work you up even more.

Dahyun climbed back onto the bed, laying down beside you as her cock strained against the cold air of the room, slipping her hand down to press two fingers inside of you. Tzuyu pulled her own hand away, drawing out a desperate groan from you as she did so. She undressed quickly, her clothes ending up on a pile on the floor next to Dahyun’s. Her hand found your clit again as she laid down beside you like Dahyun had done.

“What do you want us to do to you, baby? You’re already so wet for us.”

You struggled to find the words to answer that question, your mind torn between how good both of their hands felt on you but also the desire and the need for more. Tzuyu chuckled when she didn’t get a response to her question, her eyes flicking up to meet Dahyun’s.

“Then I guess it’s up to us. Isn’t it, Y/N-ah?” Tzuyu ran her tongue over your lips eliciting a groan at all the possibilities of what was to come at the hands of your Alphas.

Dahyun couldn’t suppress her smile as she felt her length pulse, “Sounds good to me, Tzu.” Both of the girls took their time to feel you up as they each made their way to some part of you. Dahyun moved in front of you to place lingering kisses along your chest making you squirm against her wandering lips while Tzuyu busied herself with placing open mouthed kisses on the base of your neck and up to your jaw as you continued to pant under their ministrations.

The slick between your legs was practically smeared along your thighs and probably soaking into the bed sheets by now with how turned on you were. The fire of your heat burned so hot in your lower belly that you felt like it was going to consume you from the inside out if the Alphas surrounding you didn’t do something quick.

A desperate whine left your throat as you rocked your hips backwards to grind against Tzuyu, her hardness digging into your ass when you finally decided that now was finally the time.

You were finally going to ask them to be your mates.

A shuddering breath fell from your lips as sweat dripped down your face, a look of determination in your eyes as you called both of your girlfriend’s attentions. Causing them to momentarily stop what they were doing to face you, “I’m ready.”

The sudden confession surprised them both as Dahyun looked at you with concern, “Are you sure?”

You appreciated her worry but you could barely think of anything other than the two of them plowing you into the mattress as you nodded, “Make me yours.”

A wide smile broke out onto both of their faces as they placed a kiss on opposite sides of your cheeks, Tzuyu nuzzling into your hair as she wrapped her arms around your waist, “And we’ll make you ours.”

The both of them helped you roll onto your side, having you face Dahyun. Tzuyu’s hands helped to support your thighs to keep them spread for Dahyun as she brought the head of her cock to your already dripping cunt. She chose to tease you at first, not pressing inside but instead rubbing slow, steady circles with it, enjoying the way your entrance fluttered the more you got worked up. Sliding her alpha-hood between your folds to lube up her length a little more before she got ready to push into you for the first time, not bothering to add any additional lubrication other than your guy’s combined wetness as you were practically soaking.

Tzuyu snaked one hand up to palm at your breasts, tugging and pinching a nipple between her fingers, causing your hips to jerk forward towards Dahyun. When she finally pushed forward, sliding the tip of her cock inside of you after she felt you had enough teasing. Your breath catching in your throat as she slowly began pushing into you, your walls squeezing down on her at the unfamiliar stretch as you gritted your teeth a little at the pain. Your eyes squeezed shut as Tzuyu whispered words of encouragement into your ear as she continued to toy with your breasts, doing her best to make the small amount of pain you were experiencing turn to pleasure as soon as possible.

Your body relaxed when Dahyun had finally bottomed out inside of you, she waited patiently for you to adjust to her size when you nodded, “You can move.”

She grunted in response as she pulled out so that only the head of her cock remained inside of you, before carefully thrusting back inside of you causing you to cry out in relief as you were filled up again, the stretch of Dahyun’s length starting to finally feel pleasant. You tilted your head back to rest against Tzuyu’s chest, panting loudly as Dahyun began thrusting.

She took over Tzuyu’s hand that had been supporting your thigh, as she brought your leg to hook around her hip instead. Tzuyu continued to palm at your breast with one hand, moving her now free hand to your ass, using her finger to tease at your other hole. A needy and desperate whimper escaped your lips as Tzuyu’s finger prodded and threatened to press inside.

“So eager.” The taller Alpha teased with a chuckle before standing up, heading to their bedside table.

You let out a whine, Dahyun’s cock was inside you just like you wanted - needed - but her hips stopped moving. You needed more and you needed it now. Dahyun shushed your whines, pressing gentle kisses to your shoulder before switching to nipping at the skin, enjoying the breathy moans you gave in response.

The bed dipped as Tzuyu found her spot behind you again except this time with a bottle of lube in hand. Tzuyu popped the cap, squeezing it into the palm of her hand with a wet noise before tossing the bottle aside. With one hand she began to ease her fingers inside your hole, starting with just one digit but quickly moving to two with the desperate noises she was making.

Dahyun waited patiently, wanting so much to just begin thrusting with how amazing it felt to be inside of you, your walls clenching tightly around her but she knew she had to wait for Tzuyu and it would be worth it. Tzuyu worked her way up to three fingers, enjoying the way you stretched for her before finally pulling away, earning yet another desperate whimper from deep within your chest. She used the rest of the lube to slick up her own cock as she pressed the head of it against your hole, pausing for just a moment before pressing inside.

You clung to Dahyun’s shoulders, fingernails digging in harshly as you wailed with pleasure, feeling both of your holes be filled up just like you’d been impatiently waiting for. There was a pause when Tzuyu bottomed out, the two alphas giving you a moment to adjust before Dahyun gave the first thrust. Your fingernails dragging down Dahyun’s back with a loud moan as Tzuyu thrusted in as soon as Dahyun was drawing back, the two of them alternating their thrusts into you.

“More! Please, please more!” You gasped, your heart racing and mind dizzy as your heat fully took hold and demanded even more from them.

Both Dahyun and Tzuyu were more than willing to oblige. Dahyun moved one hand up to pinch at one of your nipples, while Tzuyu busied her mouth with sucking dark hickeys into the muscle of your shoulders. They both began to thrust into you harder, enjoying the loud moans that you were letting out. You squirmed between them, not to get away from the pleasure but seeking out anything else they could give you.

“How does it feel, Jagi?” Dahyun asked breathlessly, punctuating her words with a teasing press of her newly formed knot against your aching entrance, “I bet you’ve been dreaming of this moment. Tzumong and me filling you to the brim as you lose control”

Tzuyu leaned in, murmuring against your ear as she joined in on the teasing, “You’re so spoiled, Y/N-ah. Having two Alphas taking care of your heat.”

“Fuck! Just…knot me.” You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut as their teasing made the coil in your belly tighten.

Dahyun used one hand to grip your hip to push her knot inside first, doing so with a rough snap of her own hips followed by a delighted sigh. It had entered with a loud, slick pop. Your inner walls instantly clenched tightly around it. By the noises you were making, both Dahyun and Tzuyu could tell that you were so close to your peak, so Tzuyu followed Dahyun’s lead, pushing her knot inside your ass with a forceful thrust.

Causing you to cry out as you clenched hard on the two cocks inside you, viciously dragging your fingernails down Dahyun’s back as you felt both of your girlfriends release inside of you. Filling you up with their cum as they grunted and groaned against you, both of them sharing the same thought as they simultaneously sank their teeth into both sides of your neck.

Mating you.

Claiming you.

Their bites were the final straw as you were thrown over the edge, a high pitched scream escaped from your throat as you felt all the tension building inside of your body finally find its release. White filled your vision as every part of you spasmed, helpless to the onslaught of pure pleasure that made every nerve in your body stand on end. Before your high began to taper off as you fell bonelessly against Tzuyu.

The Alpha snaked her arm around your waist, pulling you as close as possible to her, palm rubbing and pressing against your stomach. A weak groan escaped from you at how full you felt before Tzuyu stopped, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. Before propping herself up on one elbow, watching as Dahyun began to card her fingers through your hair, a goofy smile on her face as she trailed a finger down to the fresh bite on the right side of your neck. Her mark.

Both of their knots had shrunk enough inside of you for them to pull out but they continued to lie there, not moving.

That was until Tzuyu began to laugh from behind you, jostling you and Dahyun slightly as she calmed with a sigh, “I can’t believe we did it. We’re mates.”

The word felt strange but familiar all at the same time as you pushed the Alphas back slightly so that they were no longer inside of you, allowing you to lie on your back so that you could see the both of them properly, “Took us long enough.”

A chuckle also came from Dahyun as she linked her fingers with Tzuyu’s as their hands rested against your stomach, “At least we did. I guess that finally makes you our Omega now, doesn’t it Y/N.”

You couldn’t suppress the smile growing on your face as you took their interlocked hands that were resting on your belly and brought them to your lips, kissing them both. “And I guess that makes you two my Alphas.”

The two smiled as they cuddled into either side of you, “Yes, yes it does.”

[troubatrain]

good for you - t. jost

a/n: one day it dawned at me that tyson jost really had just been hitting different lately, and so i just needed to write some filth about it. i'm thinking of making this a smut based mini series so let me know what you guys think :)

part two

warnings: it's smush time (smut)

I can’t believe you’re leaving me like this.

Mat Barzal was pouting, laying across your bedroom in your apartment whining about how you were heading off to Colorado and leaving him. It wasn’t by choice, you’d gotten into a grad program that was an amazing opportunity, separating you and your childhood best friend for the first time in ages. Mat was your friend by accident, a kid was picking on him and you got mad because only you’re allowed to do that and punched that kid square in the nose. Mat covered for you so you wouldn’t get suspended and you’d been inseparable ever since.

“This place is going to be too quiet without you,” Mat whines, dodging the book you’d thrown in his direction, “And not that I keep you to clean up after me but I do need you to teach me how to use the dishwasher.”

“How about you help me pack then?” You suggest, rolling your eyes at his inability to take care of himself. He’d always been like that, his own mother relieved when you moved in because it eased her worries about Mat burning his place down.

“You should give Tyson a call,” Mat hops up, grabbing a box and some stuff off your shelf, “Sure he’d be able to show you around.”

“Tyson Jost?” You furrow your brows, trying to clarify exactly who Mat was talking about. There wasn’t anything wrong with Tyson, that was the problem. Tyson was like sunshine in the summer and in another life, he’d be your dream man. He was kind and the way he talked about his mother made every one of your girlfriends swoon. Tyson had the kind of drive you respected and he just seemed so steady, “I thought we agreed I’d break him.”

“You agreed with yourself on that one not me,” Mat chuckles, shaking his head at your response. Mat couldn’t think of any one of his friends that he’d let date you besides Tyson. Tyson was an astronomically better person than Mat was, always the kind of kid his parents encouraged him to hang out with, “What if Tyson’s the best dick of your life and you don’t even give him a shot?”

“I’m not sleeping with Tyson, he’s too innocent,” It wasn’t an excuse, it was the truth. Everything about Tyson screamed that he’d get you off but it wouldn’t be all that exciting. Tyson was a relationship type, and you weren’t and aside from the obvious sexual incompatibility - he was Mat’s friend. Despite his efforts, you always swore that was a line you’d never cross. Besides, as kind and endearing as Tyson was, he was still a hockey player, he just got away with it better than most.

“Just promise me you’ll call him? Especially if something’s wrong,” Mat pleads, a soft expression on his face even if it was just for a second before you had a t-shirt tossed in your direction, “You can’t let him replace me though, I’m number one around here.”

“I cannot wait to live alone,” You tease, laughing when Mat’s middle finger is thrown in your direction. It was bittersweet, leaving the comfort of having Mat around to buy you ice cream when you were sad and to take care of his best friend duties and onto a new adventure.

“You won’t be alone Josty will be there,” Mat jokes, his laugh bouncing off the now barren walls of your bedroom, “I swear I’m done now.”

“You better be.”

“I give it two weeks before you fuck Josty though.”

***

Just swing by her place, please.

Mat was like a mother who just sent their first kid away for college, and he was panicking. So, yes, he was begging Tyson to just drop in on to make sure your move was going as smoothly as you made it sound on the phone. Tyson could have been doing anything else on a Friday night with no game, but he was getting closer and closer to giving in by the second.

Tyson could admit, he wanted to see you, and he was excited when Mat shared the news you were moving to Denver. He looked forward to seeing you in the summer, carefree and light and so far out of his league he’d never even try. You made Tyson fumble his words, and every time he saw you he would think with his dick and he couldn’t focus on anything else. Above all else, Tyson wanted you to know he was a phone call away, a promise he made to Mat that he’d be there if you needed anything that he was going to keep for his own selfish reasons.

So Tyson was off to your apartment, a bottle of wine in one hand and a case of Coors Light in the other. He lifted his hand to knock, taking a deep breath and just thinking to himself, don’t fuck this up.

You knew that familiar tuft of curls in your peephole anywhere, summers spent watching the way Tyson’s curls bounced against his forehead whenever he spoke. This had Mat written all over it, no doubt your best friend put Tyson up to his welcoming committee bit. You turn around, boxes piled everywhere with nothing set up in your place aside from your mattress in the middle of the floor and your tv in your living room. Unpacking had been a bit overwhelming, and you may have lied on the phone to Mat that you were doing just fine. You take one deep breath, holding your head up high and pretending like your place wasn’t a mess.

“Hi,” You smile, leaning against your doorframe and taking in the man in front of you. Did he get bigger? Maybe it’s the hair, it’s longer. No, the scruff. Whatever it was, your feet were glued to the floor because you were stunned by the fact that Tyson Jost had gotten hot.

“Welcome,” Tyson cheeses, holding up the beer and wine in his hands and shrugging his shoulders, “I hope it’s fine I stopped by, Mat called and-”

“Told you to come?” You finished his sentence, Tyson nodding at your question, “Well, I have no furniture because it won’t be here until tomorrow, but you’re more than welcome to come join in my sad empty apartment.”

“I’d love to,” Tyson chuckles, bumping his shoulder with yours when he walked into your place. It was definitely empty, Tyson wishing he’d known sooner you’d be without most of your stuff for another day so he could offer up his guest room. It didn’t matter to him, his mind focused more on the fact that you looked incredible, a too big Islanders shirt and a pair of shorts that were leaving little to the eye. You were digging through a box, a small aha leaving your mouth when you pulled out a mug, “Wine in a mug?”

“That’s how Mat used to pour me glasses when we first moved in together,” You admit, gripping the mug in your hand tightly. You may have stolen it from your former kitchen, but it was a memory you wanted to remember, “You can sit, I mean the only place is on my mattress but-”

“Sounds like a tradition then,” Tyson hums, sitting down and leaning against your pillows, taking a sip of his beer. You sat cross legged next to him, pouring yourself some of the wine he’d brought over in that silly I <3 New York mug Mat bought for your first place. You settled on a movie, thankful you at least had wi-fi and didn’t have to make awkward conversation with Tyson.

It’s only awkward because you’re making it awkward, you thought to yourself. Maybe Tyson was doing it on purpose, peacocking around your apartment because Mat told him he had this weird thing about you sleeping with him. He wouldn’t do that, remembering every other time Tyson’s ignored one of Mat’s grand schemes because they were bad ideas, “Excited for the season to start? A few more weeks right?”

“I’m excited for camp to be over,” Tyson groans, snuggling himself into

your mattress, “My entire body’s on fire.”

Yeah mine too. You watched the way Tyson rolled his shoulders, clear pain across his face, “Ty’s let me-”

You were usually bold, confident enough to make the first move without the fear of rejection. It could be from years of watching Mat, a true master at his craft of picking up women, and constantly encouraging you to do the same. That’s how a player plays the game Y/N. Tyson’s brows were raised at you, a blush on his neck while he let himself sit a bit. You slipped your fingers under the soft cotton of his t-shirt, digging them into the knots in his shoulder. Tyson let his eyes rest, embracing the relief you were giving him.

Of course your fingers felt like magic. Tyson was doing everything in his power to keep his cool, and not blow this one chance he’s had with you without Mat’s stupid antics in the middle of it. Just ask her out, she’ll probably reject you, but at least you’ll get laid. Mat was right, he had to be because he knew you better than anyone. It wasn’t just some claim he made either, you didn’t do relationships, never giving your heart to someone else, “How are you good at this?”

“Tito used to tell me I had a career in deep tissue massages in my future,” You joke, Tyson’s head falling back to look at you while he let out a laugh, “Sometimes I think he just wanted to save a trip to the rink…do you mind if I-?”

You were tugging at Tyson’s shirt, waiting for him to nod in response and grab it from the back and toss it off. You never took the time to look at Tyson like this, eyes scanning over his skin and taking him in. Scars on his skin, no doubt from his choice in sport and one from that time Mat took roughhousing too far over the summer. Your finger curled around a loose curl at the base of his neck, Tyson letting out a hum, “I like the curls grown out Tys.”

“Keep pulling on them,” Tyson grunts, the words falling through his lips before he could stop them. You let out a small giggle, Tyson thanking his lucky stars you didn’t just hit him. He turned around, a glimmer in his eyes that you’d seen dozens of times before. Your hand stayed in his hair, gripping his hair softly when Tyson’s lips finally landed on yours. It was slow at first, testing out the waters and Tyson waiting for the blow of rejection. His hand was on your waist, hand slipping under your shirt and rubbing your skin softly. His lips moved down your neck, scruff tickling your skin, “Been wanting this for a while…”

“Yeah?” You muse, tilting your head back while Tyson’s teeth sunk into them. His grip got tighter, your breath hitching in your throat.

“If you don’t count the years I spent wondering what the fuck you and Mat were, then every summer for the past four years,” Tyson’s eyes had gotten a shade darker, flipping you over so you were underneath him, “Don’t act like you don’t know you’re hot, or that I’ve been mentally undressing you for years.”

“Now’s your chance Tys, don’t blow it,” You chirp, waiting for Tyson’s laugh to follow, except it didn’t. Tyson’s hands pulled yours over your head, grip tight on your wrists. What if Tyson’s the best dick of your life and you don’t even give him a shot. Mat’s words were spinning your head, taunting you because there was a chance he was actually right.

“Don’t move them,” Tyson grits, his lips trailing down your neck, his hands pulled your shirt off slowly, stifling a groan when his suspicions about your lack of bra were true, “Be a good girl-”

“Or what?” You smirk, wondering how many buttons you could press before Tyson just railed you. This was new, welcome, and maybe you shouldn’t have assumed Tyson was the boring type behind closed doors.

“Or I’ll fuck you until you’re begging to cum, but I still won’t let you,” Tyson mutters, his lips pressed against your skin while his fingers hooked under your shorts, “So are you going to be good for me?”

Tyson waited for your answer, gaining himself a plus one in your book on consent and when you nodded, your shorts and panties came clean off. Tyson hooked your thighs over his shoulders and pressed a kiss to your clit lightly, “Don’t tease Tys.”

“Am I the first person who gets you like this?” Tyson groans, watching the way your hips were squirming every light kiss he pressed around your pussy. You were an alpha female, Mat’s words, never Tyson’s, and that meant that under most circumstances you were in charge.

“Yes,” You whimper, desperate for some sort of relief. Tyson had you wound up, in a position you were used to being in and you were eating up every bit of it. He finally gave in, Tyson’s well skilled tongue swirling around your clit, pulling a moan out of you that echoed through your empty apartment. You clasped your hands together, taking every bit of strength you had not to tug on Tyson’s curls, “Fuck, Tyson let me touch you.”

“Not what we agreed to, princess,” Tyson reminds you, his tongue teasing your entrance while his nose rubbed against your clit. His tongue slid up your folds, Tyson climbing back up your body and letting his spit slide down his tongue and into your mouth, “Taste yourself babe.”

You nod, obliging happily with Tyson, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head at how fucking hot this was. His lips landed on yours, reminding you just how good you were being against your mouth. Tyson’s hand grabbed one of yours, intertwining your fingers with his, “Tyson, please I wanna cum so badly.”

“Where?” Tyson hums, sucking at your skin, undoubtedly leaving you a little gift to cover up for your first day of class.

“On your cock,” You bat your eyelashes, playing into Tyson’s game because you needed some release, “All over it, please-”

Tyson kicked off his boxers, taking his own cock in his hand and pumping it a few times. He tapped your clit the head, smirking when you moaned underneath him. This was better than he imagined, all of those unwanted dirty dreams about you that seemed to be more frequent over the summer. You let your free hand move, Tyson’s head thrown back when you lined his dick up your core, guiding him inside of you, “God, you feel so fucking good.”

Tyson dropped your hand, both of his large hands gripped your hips tightly while he slammed into you. Your legs with shaking from pleasure, “Fuck, right there, please I’m so close-”

Tyson wrapped one of your legs around his waist, hitting you deeper. His arms were on both sides of your head, his lips pressed up against your ears when he spoke, “Cum for me princess.”

Tyson’s deep groans sent you over the edge, your pussy fluttering around his cock while he fucked you through your orgasm. His lips parted, hips sputtering when he pulled out and came all over your stomach with a loud fuck. You both fell silent, the realization that you broke your own rule about Mat’s stupid friends washing over you. It wasn’t regret, it was something you couldn’t quite explain. Tyson finally fell next to you, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, letting his light kisses trail down your shoulder, “Let me get the shower ready for you.”

You nod, letting your eyes follow Tyson’s ass as he wandered through your place in search of your bathroom. An aftercare king too? Maybe you were biting off more than even you could chew with this one. You grab your phone, rolling your eyes at Mat’s unanswered texts complaining that you’d already replaced him with Tyson. Your fingers dance across the screen, typing up the text you’d been meaning to send since Tyson was at your front door.

You could’ve warned me Tyson got hot, you know?

You didn’t even last two weeks did you?

[lilith-of-rivia]

Monster House

Trigger Warnings: Claustrophobia, mentions of self-hatred, self-degrading voice, panic/anxiety attack, mentions of blood and gore.

Summary: after Geralt lashes out at you and leaves you alone in a house, you have an anxiety attack/panic attack.

Word Count: 1,676

Paring: DAD!GeraltXFemaleMinorDAUGHTERReader

Request: Hello! Could you write one where the reader is Geralt's child surprise. Reader is in her teens and gets in trouble. Geralt is pissed and grounds her. Reader cannot leave the house. The reader has developing claustrophobia so no fresh air for a while eventually gets to her. Reader starts to have an anxiety attack but doesn't dare go outside for a quick breath of fresh air. Geralt comes home and tries to calm her down and stuff. Thank youuu!!! 🥺🥺🥺

@theichabbieclub

Thank you for the request, my dear, so sorry for the wait. Hope you like it?

“Geralt! You’re being unreasonable. I didn’t do anything wrong!!” You yelled. Your hair was a mess around your face. Dirt smeared all over with some blood that thankfully didn’t belong to you.

“Did nothing wrong??” Geralt’s face to you, now eye level. He had to bend down to be eye to eye with you. His eyes searched yours. You could see the anger, fear, and concern on his face. Something you had only ever seen, no one else got to see that.

He sighed heavily, his hands rubbing down his tired face. He was attempting to calm himself down, knowing he could sometimes be a bit too harsh with you.

“You deliberately left the house after me. You could’ve gotten killed.”

“-But I didn’t.” He sighed, grabbing your chin in his hand making you look at him.

You did leave the safety of the house, even when he said no. You wanted to come with him. It was only a pack of wolves. Nothing he couldn’t handle and you wanted to help, more than anything. You hated not being able to help him with anything, you could never do anything unless he was by your side. He or Jaskier. It made you feel like a burden.

“You’re right you didn’t. But you could’ve. You’re not to leave this house for three days. You stay in here, read the books Yen gave you. Unless I am by your side you do not step foot past that threshold. Do you understand me?” His voice was deep, stern, mean. You hated it when you got grounded. You sighed deeply, nodding in agreement.

“Good. I’m very disappointed in you Y/N.” He stood again, his back to you. Before you could say anything else he was out the door. You had half a mind to follow him but chose to listen to him. His lingering disappointment still thick in the hot air of the cramped house.

You walked to the corner of the small room, sitting down in the pile of blankets. You grabbed one of the herbal books Yennerfir gave to you and began reading. No matter how many times you reread the same paragraph about mugwort you couldn’t absorb the material. You were getting hotter and hotter, the hot summer sun now at its full peak at noon making the small cabin you were in getting hotter. You grabbed your water canteen and slugged it down. To your disappointment, Geralt had taken his own with him.

“This isn’t a house, it’s a shack. With walls enclosing it around me.” You huffed to yourself. Gathering your hair in your hands you tied it back, hoping it would help. But it did nothing. The room began to feel smaller, tighter. The air getting thicker.

Your mind wandered over Geralt’s words.

“He’s right. I’m such a disappointment. He should’ve left me years ago.” Your hot tears began to stream down your red cheeks. You put your hands on your face, holding it tightly, squeezing it as your eyes shut. You tried to not let these thoughts penetrate your head, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were a burden to Geralt. He constantly had to do things for you. You never did anything for yourself even if you wanted to. No matter how hard you tried you always felt like you were only a burden on him.

Your breathing became ragged and harsh as you cowered into the corner. Your body trembled, the walls around you closing in around you as you watched the floor move up and down like a monster’s mouth.

“If you ever need me; scream my name, I’ll hear you.”

His voice echoed through your head as you moved to the window. You pushed the small glass panel open and sat below it feeling the very soft breeze that came through. Your throat felt like it was closing. Your body shaking more as you cried harder, the thoughts of Geralt not coming back for you.

“GERALT PLEASE COME BACK!!!” Your screams echoed off the walls of the house. Your head in your hands as you cried harder and harder, your throat beginning to hurt.

“Please...please...please...please come back Geralt.” Your head began to get heavy as you laid on the hard floor. The door of the house flew open, but you didn’t have the energy to open your eyes, but you knew it was him. His smell was all too familiar to you. His arms quickly grabbed your limp body pulling you into his chest, his hand quickly grabbed your chin making your face turn to him, your eyes still not opening. You couldn’t.

“Jesus Y/N, your burning up. Did you eat something bad??” His voice was full of panic, it made your heart hurt. All I ever do is cause you pain. Your thoughts were filling your small head, making it harder for you to stop crying.

“The house is eating me.” You crooked out. He quickly lifted you, carrying you quickly out of the house. The fresh air instantly made you take in a breath, your tears subsiding.

You could hear the splash of water as Geralt walked into the river near the cabin. He kneeled into the water, using his hand to cup cold water pouring it over your face.

“Open your mouth.” You did as he asked and drank the cold water from his hand. Your senses slowly started to return, your eyes opened and the bright sun made them burn. You slowly moved them around the running water. You could feel Gerlt’s fingers stroking your hair behind your ears as he completely sat in the water, no regard for his clothes. You locked eyes and gave him a weak smile.

“What happened?” His voice was softer than before, it was deep, comforting. Made you feel safe, even in the unsafe world you lived in.

“I feel like nothing but a burden...you never trust me to do anything on my own. It's like I’m a leach to you…” you couldn’t look at him, closing your eyes feeling the cold water rush into your back.

“You're not a leach, you're my kid. It's my job to protect you.” your eyes snapped back to his own. For years he never referred to you as his kid, or his daughter. At least not out loud. He treated you like his daughter. He was all you ever had when it came to parents, other than Yennefer.

His hand gently combed your hair from your face, sitting you up fully, your legs submerged in the cool rushing water.

“If something happened to you, if you died I wouldn’t be able to live in this world.” The smile that overtook your face made him roll his eyes playfully.

“You love me.” You cooed in a sing-song voice as you pointed your small finger at his face. He grunted, rolling his eyes.

“Of course I do, kid. I didn't have much meaning in life before I found you.” Your smile only grew as the big bad witcher gushed about his kid.

“Could you actually say it?” You asked, lifting your head slightly as he washed the dirt from his arms, you two slowly separating, leaving a foot between your bodies as you sat in the water.

“Say what?”

“That you love me. You've only ever said it once. But I don't think you meant to then.” Geralt eyebrows furrowed together.

“When?”

“A long time ago, you had gotten badly beaten by a group of banshees. Yen found you and brought you back with her. She had no one else to help, so I had to. I was barely eleven yet. It was scary, you were all… bloody, and cold. Your eyes were stuck open- corps like.” Your eyes were looking all over his body, and the earth around you. The story was never easy for you to remember, but you never forgot it.

“I honestly hate that I remember it so much, I remember watching Yen cry as she tried her best to stitch you back up. She just kept begging and pleading with ever god she thought was listening to her. It was horrible.” Geral's hand gently held yours, his finger softly stroking the back of your hand.

“I didn't forget it though. You woke up the next day, and I've never cried harder.” You said with a soft laugh.

“I hugged you, too tight and it hurt you. And I said I was sorry and I was just happy you didn't die. And you asked me why...I didn't know why you asked that stupid question. So I just said because I loved you. And you said it back. But you haven't sense. And honestly, if I'm your kid, you should say it more often. Because only telling me after you die really fucking sucks.” This time he laughed.

“I love you, Y/N. More than any father could ever love his child.” his arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest as you held onto him, a smile ear to ear.

“I love you too, fuck face.” he groaned into your hair as he rested his chin on top of your head.

“I'm like this because of you.” You mumbled and he nodded his head, humming softly.

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

And Tomorrow, Too.

I'm back!

Much love and many thanks to @stinastar @hailhailsatan @newnamesamecharlotte and @veritasrose for helping me yank this thing out of my brain!

Please enjoy this hurt/comfort that ends with glorious, glorious fluff.

TW: Blood, canon typical injury, infection

Jaskier was having a very rough day, objectively speaking.

He’d just finished dressing after a dip in the river when a lone bandit surprised him, shoving him to the dirt and kicking him in the ribs to keep him down. Having dealt with a gut-punch from a Witcher, Jaskier had recovered faster than anticipated and tackled the stranger to the ground.

“Foolish troubadour,” the bandit snarled. There was the quick flash of something silver and a sudden white-hot pain shot up the bard’s side from his hip to his ribcage.

“Shit,” Jaskier gasped, clutching desperately at his slashed doublet. The panicked bandit scooped up the largest of the bard’s travel bags and darted into the woods, leaving his bloodied weapon lying atop a pile of leaves beside his victim. When Jaskier pulled his hand away from the wound on his ribcage he grimaced; that was more blood than he’d been hoping to see. “Fucking cock.”

After he stripped to the waist and rinsed off in the river a second time, Jaskier took inventory of himself. The cut started at his left hip and slid up his ribcage to just beneath his left shoulder, and it was practically impossible to bandage; any attempt to wrap the upper half of his injury made him bite his lip to keep from screaming in anguish.

It was agony to move more than a few inches in either direction, since the twisting motion pulled at his torn skin and stung like hellfire. All he could really do was apply a loose poultice of chewed mint leaves to ward against infection and tie his shirt around his torso in lieu of a bandage. His cloak would have to work even harder than usual to keep him warm until Geralt arrived.

“Alright, well,” he muttered to no one as he accounted for the rest of his scattered clothing and supplies. “I need to find somewhere to rest and gather what wits I still possess… somewhere that’s still close enough for Geralt to find me. Shit, this isn’t good.”

The bard thanked every god he knew when he managed to find a small cave less than a hundred yards from the enormous oak tree where he met Geralt every year. He limped his remaining belongings into the slightly cramped space and deposited them against the left wall.

---

Fortunately for Jaskier, the idiot bandit had declared his beautiful elven lute “too bulky and annoying to carry”, and had left Sexy well enough alone. Unfortunately, the ruffian had still made off with all the bard’s coin from at least two months’ worth of contracted performances, most of his medical supplies, and most of his rations, as well.

But Jaskier had spent years at Geralt’s side and the Witcher had taught him how to deal with emergencies of every variety. Jaskier wasn’t about to disappoint his companion by flailing about ineffectively like some noble-born dunce at a time like this. No, Jaskier was determined to be healthy and ready to travel again by the time Geralt arrived in Kaedwen to find him. They only had a week or two together before they separated again for the winter and he wasn’t going to lose a single precious second in Geralt’s presence due to some silly highwayman.

Lovelorn fool that he was.

The bard used his remaining strength to gather a few armfuls of firewood and light some dried leaves with his flint and steel. He laid out his bedroll against the back wall so that he could see clearly if anyone approached from outside and wrapped his arms around Sexy to keep her safe. He re-wrapped his wound with more crushed mint and laid down to try and get some sleep.

Hopefully Geralt would arrive soon with his medical supplies and more water.

Hopefully.

---

After two long days spent huddled in a miserable lump at the back of the cave, anxiously scanning the horizon for any sign of another bandit (or Geralt) and unable to gather food or kindling, Jaskier was exhausted from lack of sleep. The wound in his side ached and burned far worse than it had on that first afternoon, aggravated by sweat and debris that had crept through his makeshift bandages.

Any added pressure around the edges of the cut made the skin nearly creak with the building strain of infection. He whimpered involuntarily every time he took a breath and trembled at any shift in the autumn breeze. It seemed as if his very bones were aching as his body flashed between the white-hot and freezing cold of a raging fever.

Slowly, and with a great effort on the part of his illness, Jaskier succumbed to the injury and sank into the quiet warmth of unconsciousness.

---

“Jaskier?” Geralt called, guiding Roach around another circuit of the old oak tree. “Are you there, Jaskier? We need to make it to the fork in the Pontar before the harvest ends and I’m in no mood for practical jokes.”

Nothing.

All his Witcher hearing picked up on were leaves twitching in the wind and a few rabbits foraging off to his left. Not even Jaskier could stay so still, even for a joke; his heartbeat and the uptick in his breathing would give him dead away.

“Well, I’m going to town.”

Geralt was about to wheel Roach back toward the road in search of a nearby inn when he caught a whiff of something on the wind - something that sent his heart plummeting into his boots.

Blood.

Jaskier’s blood. And it wasn’t fresh.

He dropped silently from the saddle and gave the signal for Roach to stay put. After a few careful breaths and some shuffling through the autumn leaves, Geralt discovered the bandit’s discarded dagger, still rusty-red around the tip and left edge.

“Fuck! Jaskier!” Geralt called, glancing around the small copse in the woods. “Jaskier, where are you!?”

The Witcher closed his eyes and tilted his head back to better clear his airways. He took a deep breath in through his nose and focused every one of his heightened senses on locating the bard. There it was again to his right, but slightly stronger. “Fucking hells.”

Geralt did his best to follow the trail without panicking. It wouldn’t do either of them any good if he lost his head while the bard was in mortal danger. If the bard was in mortal danger, he tried to reassure himself.

But if Jaskier had recovered he would have been waiting at the oak. Geralt knew that. He knew it with every fiber of his being, though he wouldn’t admit anything aloud. Jaskier’s long autumn absence had already set him on edge when he’d caught the blood-smell. “Gods-dammit, bard. Please be alive. Please, Jaskier, I can’t-”

Geralt bit his tongue and continued to follow the bard’s weak scent into the woods. After too many minutes - perhaps five or six at the speed Geralt was moving - the Witcher reached a small cave. The mouth of said cave was nearly covered-over with dry leaves and Geralt could tell, even from this distance, that Jaskier was not faring well at all. The whole area smelled like rot. Like decay. If it weren’t for the bard’s fluttering heartbeat echoing faintly from within the tiny cavern, the Witcher would have fallen to his knees and wept with despair at his untimely death.

When Geralt ducked inside and reached to pull Jaskier into his arms, the bard struggled weakly. “No, please,” he rasped. “D-Don’t kill me.”

“I’m not going to kill you, Jaskier,” Geralt replied softly. He shifted the thick leather strap of Sexy’s case over his shoulder and hefted the bard into his arms in one swift movement. Those usually brilliant blue eyes looked up at him in utter confusion. The irises were dull and foggy with sickness; the Witcher’s heart lurched in his chest and he turned back to the path, doubling his speed in his hurry to reach Roach. “You don’t have to worry any more, sweet Julek. I’m going to get you to safety.”

“If you must kill me-” Jaskier continued, muttering frantically as if Geralt hadn’t said anything at all “-then p-please do me one last f-favor. I need you to p-please find a Witcher. F-Find the White Wolf. Tell h-him… Tell him that I…”

Then the weight in Geralt’s arms seemed to increase by a fraction and the bard went silent. The Witcher shook the sweating, shaking bundle in his arms but Jaskier remained quiet.

“What do you want to tell him, Jaskier?” Geralt glanced down. His eyebrows furrowed deeply when he realized the human had fallen unconscious. The hummingbird pace of Jaskier’s fluttering heartbeat began to hammer even faster and his breaths were far too shallow. The Witcher rumbled out a determined, desperate plea the universe to save his darling songbird, followed by a quiet but emphatic, “Fuck.”

---

“Eskel!” Geralt kicked down the door to the kitchen of Kaer Morhen with one solid boot. He hadn't slept in two days and his body ached from sprinting up the path with a full-grown man in his arms. “Eskel, Vesemir, please!”

“Fuck, is that Geralt!?” Eskel came whipping around one corner at a sprint. Lambert and Vesemir were close behind, Lambert with a sword drawn and a scowl on his face. He lowered it when he saw that Geralt wasn't being pursued.

“Please, Ves, Eskel, please, help him to survive because I can’t- I can’t-” the White Wolf, for all his bravado and stoicism, was panting furiously. His kinsmen knew that he'd be crying if he had the capability to do so and crowded closer to help. Geralt immediately handed a warm, damp bundle to his Eskel with incredible gentleness and care. He looked up at the slightly taller Witcher and begged with all the strength he had left: “Please. I can't let him die.”

---

Jaskier woke up with a sharp gasp. His side radiated a dull, persistent kind of agony and he felt sick to his stomach. With a low groan he turned to retch off the side of the bed, into a conveniently placed bucket. He shouted when the movement made his wound ache all the more. “Fuck!”

The bard heard a heavy thud from his left followed by some clattering and a quietly whispered, “Shit.”

“G’ralt?”

“Jaskier!” the Witcher appeared at his side in a flash. Geralt leaned over him with a damp cloth in hand and wiped at the corners of his mouth. “You’re alive! Melitele be thanked. Do you need to be sick again? Would you like some water?”

“You’re o-oddly verbose,” Jaskier managed to half-smile.

“Was worried.”

“There’s my monosyllabic Witcher,” the bard grinned through his blinding pain. “It hurts, Geralt. Rather terribly.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t- We’re all Witchers so it’s not…” Geralt sighed and turned away to rinse the cloth in a bowl of cool water that had been resting on the sill. “We didn’t know which kind of herbs were safe for humans and which weren’t.”

“We?”

“How’s the patient?”

Jaskier's snapped to the doorway and his body automatically jerked in surprise. He whimpered at the reaction it elicited from his injury, his ribs blooming with a sharp sting. “Shit!”

“Fuck!” the red-headed man in the door replied, slamming his hands over his face. “I’m so sorry. Shit in the fucking nine hells.”

“Uh…”

“Jaskier, this is my brother Lambert. Lambert… This is Jaskier.”

“Ah yes,” the shorter Witcher smirked. “I’ve heard so much about you, Master Jaskier.”

“That I’m a royal pain in the ass?”

“Quite the opposite, really. In fact, when the two of you arrived, Geralt was nearly-”

Lambert’s statement was interrupted by a small wooden bowl to the side of the head, chucked across the room by a grim-faced Geralt.

“Nevermind. Anyway, glad to see you’re awake. I’ll let the others know that he's no longer going hand-to-hand with Death.”

“Others?” Jaskier glanced between Geralt and Lambert with wide, confused eyes. “Am I… Am I in Kaer Morhen!?”

“Aye,” Lambert winked. “And you slept through the first two days of snowfall, so I’m afraid to inform you that you’re stuck at Kaer Morhen for the rest of this season. I’ll let you and Geralt hash the rest of the details out in private. Tootles, Buttercup.”

And just as suddenly as Lambert had appeared, he was gone.

The bard turned to make eye contact with the White Wolf and blinked owlishly. “Wh-What did he mean about being here all winter?”

“I’m afraid he wasn’t lying,” Geralt returned to the stool beside Jaskier’s bed and sat down slowly, as if waiting for Jaskier to order him out of the room entirely. “Your injury was heavily infected and you were close to death when I found you in that cave at the base of the mountains. I ran the Killer in two days instead of one and brought you to Eskel and Vesemir for healing; they were the closest people I could think of who knew what to do to save you. I’m so sorry for trapping you here for the season when you should be teaching and composing in Oxenfurt. If you’d like, I can try to contact Yen or Triss and have them portal you back to the University before Yule.”

“Nobody would want to inconvenience a sorceress on their behalf,” Jaskier answered. "Myself included."

“So you don’t mind staying?”

Jaskier glanced up through his lashes, more self-conscious than Geralt had ever seen him before. “Were you really worried about me dying? Did you really carry me up the path all by yourself? In two days?”

“...Yes.”

“Why?”

Geralt felt his heart shatter to pieces in his chest. All these years spent thinking that if he was too obvious about his feelings he’d hurt Jaskier... and Jaskier had simply been waiting for any confirmation of his affections, friendly or otherwise.

"Because I..." the Witcher stood again and started to pace. "Because, Julek, I love you. I can't bear the thought of being parted from you. It's even worse because I know, I know that you're human and that I'm going to lose you too soon no matter what happens. Illness, age, injury... No matter how many years we have together they will never be enough."

Jaskier sniffled and Geralt turned on his heel to face the bard, hands already outstretched to offer comfort. "You enormous fucking idiot."

"Huh?"

"I have loved you since the moment I saw you sitting in the corner, brooding away," Jaskier grinned. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks and dripped onto the blanket. "Why didn't you tell me? You couldn't even look me in the eyes and call me your friend..."

"Witchers aren't very good at romance, if you haven't noticed," Geralt laughed humorlessly. "I knew I was going to hurt you eventually. It was only a matter of time."

"Well now we have all winter to figure things out," Jaskier offered, sliding his hand across the mattress to twine his fingers with Geralt's. The Witcher's skin was cool against his own and it felt glorious.

"Hmm."

"No! No going silent on me now, you fucker!"

"Get some rest," Geralt smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to Jaskier's sweaty fringe. "I will be here when you wake."

"And tomorrow, too?"

Geralt smiled oh-so-softly and kissed him again, on the lips.

"And tomorrow, too."

[sxvitar]

BSD: How would Atsushi, Ranpo, Dazai, And Akutagawa react to you wearing their clothes?

Also, before I start the reader can be male or female! I always make sure to include both genders in my story so everyone can read it UNLESS it’s a smut. Thank you for understanding!

Atsushi

Atsushi would of been out getting dumplings for you guys since he didn’t want to cook and neither did you. Little did he realized that he would come home to a very, very cute surprise.

While you waited for your sweet Atsushi, you started going through your guys’s wardrobe to see what you’d wear for the evening. Something comfy enough and big. That’s where you got a cheeky idea.

Why not wear his clothes?! It would be a great idea. His clothes are so big on him and well you, you were smaller so it’d work perfectly!

You wore his famous white, long sleeved buttoned up shirt with his black work pants. They were so baggy that they kept falling but you placed a small pin it to keep it from doing so.

Sitting down, with a sigh of relief and coziness overwhelming you, you decided to wait for him to see his reaction.

A half an hour later Atsushi had came back. He looked for you and when he found you, he screamed in shock.

“W—WHAT- HOW- SHSISHSHSJ??”

This man was in full on panic mode. The dumplings had been thrown somewhere in the table and he was just looking at you with red cheeks.

Once he calmed down, he finally had hugged you in a warm, strong embrace and decided to cuddle you on the couch. Forget the dumplings, his lover wearing his clothes will always be better!

“Man, how did I come to deserve such a cutie pie?”

Akutagawa

Your boyfriend was a busy man. He worked for the port mafia obviously. But, the days that he does come home it felt like wonderland. Despite also working for the port mafia, you guys had different schedules. To be honest, you might even beg chuuya to have the same schedule as Akutagawa.

He was out shopping for his sister since she needed a new dress for a date and him being overprotective, wanted to help choose the dress. You knew he’d come home soon since Akutagawa does crave your love. You couldn’t wait for his food, too.

He was such an amazing chef that your tastebuds would melt each time he made something for you. So, you decided to reward all the times he cooked for you with..

Wearing his clothes! You knew how flustered your boyfriend would be and how it’d turn him on so.. why not?

You decided on wearing his favorite hoodie that covered you all the way to your knees. You weren’t wearing anything under just to tease him.

When Akutagawa came home, he knew something was up. Turning to you, he raised a brow before seeing that was his own hoodie, dropping his bags.

He stood there frozen, making even you worried. It took him about a minute to process it. Once he was able to process it, he gulped and looked at you with pink cheeks.

“M-Make sure to wear my clothes everytime I come back home.. got it? Also, wear something under that hoodie!”

Akutagawa threw you some shorts making you laugh, back hugging him as he prepares some food. Although, something did happen that night. Akutagawa’s inner beast came out~

Dazai

Dazai was such a flirt. Even you couldn’t handle it despite dating him for two years now! He had new pick up lines, mostly bad ones but they made you fall for the suicidal dork even more.

To your surprise, when he first met you he didn’t ask if you both could die together. Instead, he wanted to get to know you more. When you guys started dating, it’s like his suicidal urges left him. They’re still there but it’s like you healed him in a way.

You helped Dazai confront his past and he couldn’t love you even more for that. So, he decided to cherish you until the end.

You and him had a night shift at the detective agency both of you worked at. Of course, you guys went home first to get ready for the shift and get all comfortable!

When Dazai had left to get snacks from the nearest store that’s when you decided to pull your naughty idea.

Let’s wear his clothes. Wouldn’t be so bad right? You especially wore something so loose that would make anybody question what your true body figure is. You wore one of his oversized navy blue sweaters with some shorts under it. The sweater went past your knees as Dazai was so tall and you were short.

When he came back, you were at the front door to greet him. A small smirk greeted Dazai’s face and your face dropped with pink cheeks.

“My, my.. look at you, so cute. I wonder if you’re wearing anything under Hmm?~”

That went overboard. You were expecting a flustered Dazai the way to the agency! God damn it. Next thing you know you guys were in bed, forgetting the night shift.

Ranpo

You and Ranpo had first met when you wanted to get hired at the detective agency.

He had looked at you with his attractive, green burning stare and decided to hire you because you were so cute to him! It shocked you and everyone else as that shouldn’t be why you hired someone but he knew you could prove your worthiness to his beloved home.

After that, Ranpo showed you around and you guys started having a connection. After that, lord and behold- you guys were dating. Did it shock anyone? Not at all! It was so obvious his best friend Yosano was laughing her ass off.

Today you weren’t expecting your boyfriend to come early from a long case. That was the chance you were able to take in his scent from his clothes and cuddle in them. He had came with a pile of snacks as usual and had dropped them in the living room. Ranpo expected you to be there but didn’t see you, so you must of been in the bedroom.

When he entered he wasn’t expecting you dancing in one of his shirts he’d wear to work. Just his shirt! It made him squint and pout at how you could be cuter than the great Ranpo!

“How can you be cuter than me?!”

He opened his eyes and still had his pout, but his eyes told you something else. You thought it would be cuddles and fun when he found out but his stare had lust in them despite the pout.

God, he looked so hot that your cheeks got pink when you stared at those green orbs.

“Well.. I don’t mind you being cuter than me. Let’s see if my intentions can make you even cuter than that.”

Rip your whole lower body.

I hope you enjoyed this! I’ll be releasing a second version of the people who I didn’t write if it gets a lot of love.

[chemicalpink]

Tied Desires ♡ Kim Taehyung x Reader

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x female reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: smut (at this point, do i ever write something else?) 

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: rope bunny, soft bdsm dynamic, brat reader, a bit of findom in there, soft dom tae

A/N: this was- a wild ride. A humongous thanks to @erotikkook for coming up with the name and the banner (support Cay’s work or else) AND to the amazing people that beta this @taegularities and @sugasbabiie​ you guys are amazing, I’m sorry you had to see first hand that I write my stuff without punctuation, my mother has always held that against me. Side note, I’m behind in like 20+ assignments from law school and I decided to prioritise this fic. Don’t do that kids.

Summary: Perhaps teasing Taehyung back could get you in deep trouble. It’s not like it wasn’t exactly what you were wishing for tho.

There had always been something so cathartic and almost therapeutic about the arrangement you had with Taehyung; while most of your relationship consisted of sweet glances, funny selcas on social media and the occasional brunch date being photographed to the public eye, the dynamic was turned upside down behind closed doors, lights barely on, the warmth that was brought upon your bodies as you feverishly made out as soon as the entrance door was closed. It was, of course, such a weird occurrence as Taehyung’s job kept piling up. However, lately, his usual playful teasing had turned into full bedroom eyes whenever there was a camera directed at him, the same bedroom eyes and attitude that had been reserved only for you to see for so long; of course something was bound to go down with it.

“Would you like us to get those inside your car?” the lady at the register said as you made sure to place the credit card back into your purse that Taehyung had given you once as an extension to his..

You smiled and nodded at her, stealing a quick glance at the dozen boxes that were scattered around the lobby of the store, most of them being really unnecessary things. But they would serve a common purpose: riling Taehyung up.

Once the boxes were secured in the back of the van, and you had asked Taehyung’s driver to head home for the day. as if on clockwork, your phone dinged a notification of an incoming text, Taehyung’s. Attached to it, and very prominently so, was a recent screenshot of a notification from his bank, asking him to verify his most recent purchase: ₩ 7,000,000 in a single exhibition from Gucci, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, anticipating his next message.

From: Taehyung [14:23] did you just buy 7 million won worth of gucci???  From: Taehyung [14:30] wait up To: Taehyung [14:32] only if you ask nicely 🤪 From: Taehyung [14:32] Y/N….

After making sure to look as close to Tae’s wettest dream as possible, white lingerie on, main bedroom lit only thanks to the subtly warm light coming out of the bathroom, you fixed yourself onto the bed, scrolling through whatever social media, waiting for Taehyung to come home. And he did. Earlier than any other time in the past month, silently making his way to the bedroom.

A dominant aura surrounded him, the exact same one you were hoping to bring out. He licked his lips over and over a few times as he seemed to contemplate you laying there on his bed ready for him, to which you could only stare back at him as he loosened the first few buttons from his shirt, deciding to turn his eyes to the floor where the dozen boxes laid untouched.

You sat up on the bed, hands on your lap, a teasing smile shooting towards your boyfriend as he pulled at some of the ribbons that decorated the black and white containers. Taehyung exhaled loudly, not exasperated, but definitely preparing himself for a punishment you were so loudly asking for. He raised an eyebrow at you as he asked, “You did this to catch my attention, then?”

“Why?” you said, smiling teasingly at him, unable to help it. “Did it work?”

Something feral crossed Taehyung’s eyes before he had one hand wrapped around the back of your neck, hovering over you as his loose hair strands covered his sight almost entirely, adding to his dominating low tone as his grip tightened almost painfully tugging at the roots of your hair. “Oh, so now you think you get to tease me, Y/N?”

He released you from his grip, a smile creeping up to his face as he heard you whimper at the loss of proximity.

“You don’t get to unnecessarily spend my money without having to face consequences, Y/N”, Taehyung said as he went back to the boxes, carefully picking out all of the cloth around each of them until there was a dozen of them on his hand. Your heart thumped violently against your chest in excitement and anticipation when he ordered, “Lay back down Y/N, legs up and open. I wanna hear you beg for me.”

Taehyung resorted to leaning against the vanity that faced the bed directly, the light from the bathroom beside it dimly illuminating the dark composure he adopted as he caressed the bunch of black material he had in his hands. You had always been a big fan of the way he seemed to never lose control once he was in the zone, how he was so seemingly unaffected at having you on full display. Completely at his mercy. 

“What are you waiting for? Panties aside, touch yourself, I wanna hear you scream.” 

Your hand was quick to pull the already sticky lacey cloth aside, biting your lips as the sensation had you already clenching around nothing, just from having Taehyung’s stare burning through you. You wetted your fingers as you caressed your folds, one elbow propping you up enough to have a somewhat clear view of your boyfriend staring back at you.

You rubbed your clit a few times, a moan escaping your lips as you threw your head back in pleasure. Grinding your hips into your hand, you rubbed yourself with the flats of four of your fingers, in an effort to increase the much needed friction as you felt yourself get wetter.

“Were you really that desperate for me, baby?” Tae’s tone was borderline mocking as he smirked to himself, barely sparing a glance at you whining on the bed; out of the corner of your eye you could see him tying up the black ribbons to one another. Feeling something stirring on your lower belly, you pinched your clit in an effort to ride out your orgasm, which was quickly cut off when Tae’s hand pushed yours out of the way as you felt your eyes prickling with tears at the sudden loss of pleasure. “Naughty girls don’t get to come so fast, Y/N.”

Taehyung’s fingers lightly caressed your folds, coating them with your wetness before he slipped them into his mouth teasingly, tasting you on his tongue for a brief second before he had you sitting on your feet, hands in your lap again as he took the homemade rope he had knotted while you’d touched yourself.

“Tonight’s safeword is gucci.” He glanced for the uptenth time at the unopened packages. “Bet you won’t forget that one.”

He moved to sit right in front of you, shirt sleeves around the mid of his arms as he took both of your wrists in his hand and started wrapping the silky material around them, binding them together.

“Put your hands behind your head, baby,” Taehyung said, continuing to wrap the rope expertly around your body, restricting most movements without hurting you too much. “Bend over a bit.” His fingers caressed your perked nipples almost unintentionally as he brought the tied ribbons to the front, face perfectly calm and concentrated as he made sure to frame your breasts with the material before bringing it down your waist and back once again. “Perfect. How do you feel?”

“Good.” You would’ve been lying if you’d said that you weren’t at least a little bit excited and nervous after going so long without one of your sessions with Tae, but at the end of the day, you knew there was no one else in the world you could leave your body at their entire mercy other than him. The rope was wrapped around your hips in no time, thighs stuck together as he manhandled you onto your knees. You were unable to hold yourself up, face against the mattress, ass up and completely exposed to him as he finished his work and stood back to appreciate it.

“The teasing game is one you can’t win against me, Y/N,” he said as his hands continued the work you had begun a few minutes prior to being completely tied up, lewd noises echoing against the walls as he wasted no time in inserting a couple of fingers into your cunt, a loud moan slipping past your lips. “You’re free to try, but you’ll end up like this every single time.”

He continued to work your orgasm up until he could feel you clenching down on his fingers, thighs trembling in anticipation before a low laugh bubbled up from his throat as he removed his hands from you. He left you whimpering against his sheets every time like a vicious cycle, tears running down your cheeks as you couldn’t even slightly move to relieve the pain that having him denying you orgasms for four times gave you.

“Aww look at you, so prettily ruined for me, Y/N.” His fingers had started to build up a turmoil in your lower abdomen once again as he methodically caressed your folds before thrusting two fingers into you lazily in favour of holding a conversation. “I guess I could let you cum this one time. Seven million won is really nothing, I keep that money as spare change.”

“Y-yes please, Tae.” Your pleasure built up faster than before as Taehyung leaned down to mouth at your folds, warm tongue working circles around your bud and fingers working you through the greatest orgasm you could ever ask for. The slurping noises took over the sound of your rigged breath and heavy whimpers as you came on his tongue, him moaning against you as your thighs spasmed violently. You could feel your eyes closing against your will, body and mind overcome with tiredness, yet somehow hazy and feeling like floating from being deprived of such activities for so long.

In the background you could hear Taehyung fiddling with the drawer of his bedside table before he cut the most restrictive parts of the rope around your wrists and thighs. “Did I hurt you?” His soft persona was back as he peppered your face with kisses, fingers wiping your tears away before he cut the rest of the silky ribbon, hands immediately massaging your tender skin.

“Not really, I missed that actually. I missed you.”

His face softened as he took your face between his hands, pouring all of his love in a kiss, an apology and a love letter at the same time as his mouth moved in sync with your own. “I’ll run you a bath and then we can order takeout. You’ll have to share your newly renovated and exclusively Gucci wardrobe though.” 

You nodded slightly at him while already having your head resting on the pillow, sleep taking over you as you faintly heard your boyfriend running the water to fill up the bathtub for you. 

[wkemeup]

Losing Riley

summary: Before she met Bucky, Y/n’s world was shattered. Sam was the common thread that helped her pick up the pieces again.  pairings: riley x reader, hinted future bucky x reader warnings: character death, grief  🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

You woke to cold sheets. A hand slid over to the left side of an empty bed and your heart clenched. The startling realization settled in each morning as the distant glow of the sunrise peered through the curtains – Riley was still an ocean away and you were still emphatically alone. 

But you were determined to make the most of the day, even if Riley wasn’t there to spend it with you. It was his mother’s birthday whether he was stateside or not and you were insistent not to let the ocean waters sweep you under in his absence. So, you pressed on a smile and dragged your feet to the bathroom to tame your hair and dry your eyes. His family would be expecting you and one of your homemade cakes by the evening.  

You dared a glance at yourself in the mirror, clad only in the US Air Force t-shirt Riley had left behind. It was rich in army green color and the logo stood bright against your chest. You wondered how much wear the shirt could handle before it started to fade. It had lost Riley’s scent after you’d worn it for a week straight, the lingering glimpses of his presence dimming night by night. You could only hope it wouldn’t shrink in the wash.  

You spent the day perfecting the cake his parents had grown to crave; three-tiered and coated in layers of chocolate frosting. Billy Joel sang on the radio and you mumbled your way through the verses of We Didn’t Start the Fire to distract yourself from imagining Riley seated at the countertop, watching you with love struck smirk on his face and a dab of frosting at the corner of his lips. The book on the counter held a gentle layer of flour on the pages. It kept you company until the timer rang.  

The dress you wore was one you’d purchased with the intent to wear for a date night when Riley came home after his first tour. Though it was red in color, it was not striking or bold – instead, it was soft, almost muted, and it carried a sort of gentle effervescence to it. Modest but charming. You’d hoped it would make him smile. You hadn’t counted on how the war stealing his ability to do so.  

It was the first time you wore the dress since you bought it. Maybe you’d ask his mother to take a picture of you with the cake to send to him. He might like that. He seemed to be himself more when he was away than when he was home in your arms these days.  

You had the cab drop you at the end of the driveway. It was long enough to catch the glow of Christmas lights still draped around the trees outside and hidden under layers of snow, despite the fact that it was well into January. The suburbs were so quiet compared to the city; you’d forgotten how much you enjoyed spending time at his parent’s house. They’d welcomed you to their table, even in the months Riley was overseas. It was a burden you shared together – to be left behind.  

You’d only made it halfway up the driveway when you noticed the two men standing at the porch. They were dressed in formal uniforms, white hats held down by their hearts. You hadn’t realized you’d stopped moving until the snow started to soak into your shoes. It piled on the pointed toes of your heels.  

Riley’s mother stood in the open-door way, a vacant look upon her face. Her husband was at her side, shaking his head as he struggled to grab onto his wife before she let out a wail that echoed so painfully, birds scattered from nearby trees.  

Her knees gave way from under her as she fell to the ground in sobs. The two men in uniform did their best to comfort her, only to be shoved away. They stood back and watched a mother grieve her only son at a respectful distance. 

“Y/n?” 

Your hands were shaking. The cake tray had slipped from your fingers and fell into the snow. A mess of sweet chocolate amongst pavement and ice. The voice called your name again, concerned, frantic, and you could only vaguely make out a blurred figure racing towards you.  

Everything around you tunneled, your knees weakening as you struggled to fight against the ice under your heels and the weight suddenly barreling down on your shoulders. All you could hear was the screams of Riley’s mother as she held onto her husband, unable to move from the comfort of the ground.  

“Y/n, come with me,” the voice eased and you looked up to find Sam Wilson standing a few paces ahead of you dressed in his formal Air Force blues, gold wings on his shoulder and a series of colorful pins on his left breast. He held out a hand to you. 

“Let’s go inside, okay?” he tried again but you shook your head, eyes darting back to Riley’s mother.  

You tried to take in another breath but found it shallow, as if your lungs had collapsed beside your heart in mutual surrender.  

“You’re having a panic attack,” Sam told you calmly. “I need you to listen to me, okay? Focus on my voice.” 

You nodded quickly, tears burning in your eyes, though you couldn’t tell if it was from the shattered remains in your chest or the light headedness pulling your vision under. Sam bent down and grabbed a handful of snow. 

“Here. Feel this,” he ordered evenly, placing the snow in your bare hand. He stepped back, shaking out his gloves. “It’s cold, right?” 

Yes, you tried to say though the word didn’t quite leave your lips. It stung, but there was a comfort in it. You watched as it melted in your palm, your skin burning from where it had been.  

“Smells like Christmas trees out here, doesn’t it?” Sam added, taking in a deep breath. He smiled. “Reminds me of the tree farms I used to go to with my dad every year growing up.” 

You followed his lead, taking in as much of a breath as your body would allow. He was right, it did smell like pines. Riley’s family planted a few along their property line because his mother loved Christmas so much. It smelled like Fraser and Balsam Fir all year round.  

You concentrated on the smell of the trees, the chocolate that had scattered into the snow in clumps of frosting and cake; the sound of Sam’s voice, of Riley’s mother’s cries; the feel of the chill on your skin and the snow in your hand. You focused until you could draw in a full breath enough to make sense of the destruction around you. 

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” you asked, voice trembling on the verge of tears.  

Sam’s shoulders fell, a terrible longing pressed over his features. “I’m so sorry, Y/n.” 

Despite your efforts, your knees buckled in mirror to Riley’s mother. Sam caught you before you could hit the ground, his arms encasing around you as your body fought the violent tremors shaking through you. You cried against his jacket, as the snow built upon your shoulders and wet your hair. You cried until there was little else your body could give. 

*** 

You barely remembered the funeral.  

A folded flag had been placed in the lap of Riley’s mother as she sobbed. A casket had been lowered into the ground. Guns fired in salute and you flinched at each one as they echoed against the stormy grey skies. Sam held your hand through the entire ceremony, squeezing it hard enough to leave a mark when it looked like you were teetering on the edge of an endless void. He stayed on your couch that night and pretended not to hear as you cried yourself to sleep. 

There was an emptiness that took hold of you when Riley left for his first tour, but there was still a lingering hope. You’d managed to hold onto the image of a man at war and his woman waiting for him to return. He wrote often and you kept each letter in a shoe box under the bed. It was a script of a movie you’d learned to follow – the scraps of love you could grasp from the shores of the Atlantic.  

When he came home, he was hollow. He wasn’t the man you’d kissed goodbye with a cheesy, hopeful grin on his face. He’d lost the spark behind his eye and the glow in his skin. He became withdrawn and angry; lashing out when you reached to him with an anchor in your hand as if he favored the unforgiving currents pulling him under.  

The time you spent with him before he left again hurt worse than when he was gone. He longed for the sky like a bird with a broken wing. It was within reach, so close and so impossibly far from his grasp. He pushed you away, convinced you would never understand the resentment he carried towards civilian life and the utter inability to conform to it.  

Perhaps he was right. You’d shouted it yourself one night until you were both hoarse and in tears. You would never understand, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t try, that you didn’t love him any less.  

You’d seen the way the war had hurt him. It shoved nightmares to his dreams and panic in his veins. It made him hypervigilant and paranoid. It isolated him from his friends and family. It made him feel like a monster in the skin of a man, pretending to be someone he wasn’t; smiling through aching muscles as if he were a portrait hanging in a museum.  

He pretended to be fine. He pretended to try. He never was.  

It didn’t surprise you the day he told you he was going back.  

Still – you begged. Despite the tears, the months of heartache and panic attacks and night terrors, you were desperate for him to stay. You were desperate to rebuild what the war had broken between you. You loved him and it wasn’t enough.  

After he left, you tried to pretend as he did – that everything was fine, that you didn’t feel an ache in your chest at the thought of him, that you were a woman waiting on your soldier to return home.  

He was more himself when he called. He became the Riley you remembered in the beginning; full of hope and eager to prove himself. He smiled often and laughed as his friends teased him for the blush in his cheeks when you appeared on the screen. It was those moments that encouraged you to hang on, that reminded you why he was worth the pain and heartache.  

Those moments gave you hope that this time would be different. When Riley came home, the two of you would be just fine. The soldier and his girl.  

Always optimistic. Always sunny. Always finding silver linings. 

You should have known better than that.  

*** 

Mrs. Jefferson was surprised the day you showed up at work dressed in shades of grey and black, returning the piles of books you had yet to read.  

“You should go home, dear,” she eased, slipping the glasses from the bridge of her nose to rest on the beads against her chest. “It’s too soon for you to be at work.” 

“I’m fine,” you mumbled. You didn’t put much effort into the lie but you couldn’t stand to be in your apartment another second longer. It was too quiet, too empty. You’d never lived with Riley but his things were scattered around your place. The Air Force shirt sat crumbled at the foot of your bed.  

“Honey, you forget that I know what you are going through,” Mrs. Jefferson sighed, placing a trembling hand over yours. You paused. “Be patient with yourself. Have kindness for the man you lost. You’ll see the sun again, my dear. I promise.” 

You didn’t know whether it was the tenderness in her words or the way her aged hand curled around yours that broke you. Tears blurred over your eyes and you sank into her embrace as she drew circles against your spine. If the visitors noticed your grief, they did not say anything. For that, you were grateful.  

*** 

It took time before you could think of Riley without crying. Months, maybe, but it was progress. Sam stopped by daily in the beginning, showing up with coffee and donuts from Luciana’s and forcing you to get out of bed just to open the door for him before he woke the neighbors. You’d come to expect him and started to ready yourself before he arrived.  

He swung by after work some days with takeout and some weekends he dragged you to his friend Steve’s house where they watched football and you filled your stomach with nachos and buffalo chicken dip.  

He taught you to smile again despite yourself because Sam was infectious no matter how deep the void you’d caged yourself in. It was impossible not to return his smile, impossible not to try for a man who so genuinely wanted you to succeed. He was Riley’s partner and he knew Riley on a level not even you had seen. Sam grieved different than you did, but he grieved nonetheless. It was something you shared in. Something you overcame together, too.  

The day he brought you to the VA, you’d dragged your feet the whole way.  

“Trust me, kid,” Sam urged, yanking your hand along the sidewalk, but you planted your feet. Sam rolled his eyes. “Do it for Riley.” 

Your jaw dropped, though Sam started to smirk. “Don’t evoke Riley’s name to guilt me into working for the people who took him from us, Sam!”  

“I’m guilting you into volunteering. Let’s make that clear,” Sam retorted. “I’m not paying you shit.” 

You laughed despite the frown on your face.  

“Second, these guys aren’t the big shots who sit in their cozy offices while our boots on the ground see the real fight,” Sam said, squeezing your hand. He wasn’t teasing anymore. His smile was genuine as his features softened, a sad sort of memory on his mind. “They’re guys like Riley, Y/n. Guys who could use the help he should have had.” 

Your lips parted, unable to come up with an excuse to say next. You thought of Riley curled up on the floor with his hands pressed over his ears as fireworks lit up the sky on New Year’s Eve. You thought of the dark circles under his eyes from sleepless dreams and the toll it took on your relationship. You thought of the shame he felt for pushing you away, for being unable to stop himself from hurting you, too.  

You shook your head. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough for that, Sam.” 

“Just come with me to the open house,” Sam tried, tugging on your hand and this time, you let him drag you a few steps. “If it’s too much, I won’t push it again...” he bit his lip, “until next year.” 

“Fine!” you laughed, falling in stride with him as he fist pumped the air in victory. “I don’t know how Riley put up with you for so long.” 

“With much reluctance,” Sam snickered. 

It felt nice to be able to talk about Riley without it hurting. It still ached, but it was a pleasant ache – like maybe remembering him didn’t have to be a bad thing, like maybe it could bring you a little joy, too.  

Sam brought you into his office first to draw you away from the crowds. It gave you a chance to take off your coat and ease yourself into the surroundings before Sam inevitably threw a handful of strangers on you with terrible stories and sad faces to convince you to stay.  

“I just gotta find a file for Steve and we can head out to the main room, alright?”  

You nodded, taking the time to look around Sam’s office. It wasn’t anything like you’d pictured it to be. You’d expected it to be in chaos – disorganized, with papers stacked high on the desk and a basketball hoop hanging over the trash bin – but it was rather professional. He had awards framed on the wall, metals encased in glass. File cabinets labeled and not a pen out of place.  

But it was the photo sitting on his desk that drew your attention. You picked it up, recognizing Sam at the center in his Air Force uniform and a younger, more doe-eyed Steve Rogers who stood beside him dressed in army greens. But there was a third man hanging off Sam’s left shoulder you didn’t know. 

He was handsome. Smile bright enough to rival even that of Sam’s. With short, brown hair and eyes as blue as you’d ever seen, you wondered whether his face might be one you’d see out in the crowd of veterans gathered in the lobby.  

“That’s Bucky,” Sam grinned, pointing to the man in the photo. “He’s still out on tour.” 

You handed Sam the picture, tucking your hair behind your ear nervously, and he seemed to enjoy how flustered you were.  

“He’s scheduled to be home next year though,” Sam added, studying for your reaction. “I’ll see if I can get him to swing by if... you know... you’re volunteering here.”  

You glared at Sam until he broke into laughter.  

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to the regulars,” Sam grinned, grabbing your hand and dragging you out into the crowd in the lobby.  

You knew before Steve’s presentation on the services at the VA even began that Sam had tied your heart with string to this building and the people in it. You saw Riley’s face in everyone who shook your hand – from the petite, red headed woman with a questionable background and kind eyes to the son of a billionaire who had joined the Air Force in rebellion and found he rather liked being just ‘one of the guys.’ 

It was as if you could feel a hand on your back, urging you forward, into the arms of these people and the compassion they could give to you. You wondered if Sam knew that it would be as much a kindness to you as you could be for them, to be able to give your time to this place. Ideas began to spring in your mind of how you could bring your love of books to your work here and how much you’d missed reading yourself. 

Maybe this place could heal you, too.  

It took a single glance from Sam across the room to know he’d convinced you. He smiled, raising a glass of cheap red wine, and nodded. It was the first time in months you’d felt a glimmer of hope, a reason to be excited, a possibility for good amongst the broken.  

You clung onto it with everything you had.  

[shoutogepi]

Red Roses

Kirishima Eijirou

word count : 7.5k

[ ✘ (nsfw!), flowershop!au ]  

themes : haaaa where to begin… almost dubcon?? (BEWARE!), dom!kiri, size kink!kiri, light spanking, tinyyy bit of ass play, little use of “Sir”

bio : Kirishima decides to educate you on the alternative meaning behind a red rose.

author’s note : this fic was meant to be for the @bnhabookclub​ provisional licensing exam event using their flowershop!au, but alas... i am a lazy procrastinator. anyway you should check them out!! i’ve absolutely loved being a part of something so great. also thanks to all who helped me with this fic <3 buuut special thanks to @lady-bakuhoe​​ for beta reading <3

tagging: @queensynderella @marilla-eldriana @1-800-callmekatsuki​ @hisoknen 

also available on AO3 here

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

🅃he bell tinkles overhead as you step into the quaint store, palm clammy against the metal doorknob and chest tight with apprehension.

“Y/N! Thank god for you,” your friend exclaims from behind the register, sliding over the counter with ease. She shoves the apron she’s holding into your hands before attempting to throw her hair into a messy bun. “I cannot believe my sitter cancelled on me this last minute— my husband has to be out of the house in ten minutes!”

You smile at her gratefulness, but your eyes are not on her. The curtains on the back room part and out steps the store owner, red eyes landing on you. “Y/N,” he greets you, the timbre of his voice low and cool. You nod and smile hesitantly toward him, shifting your attention back to your friend even though you can feel his gaze raking over your body.

Yuki wags a disapproving finger toward the man behind the counter, “Kiri, you better take good care of her!” She commands with a playful yet firm tone, body already halfway through the door you’d just come in through.

Your entire being screams out for you to beg her to stay, but you hold your tongue as you recall it was you who said you’d cover her shift. She already seems to have had the stress lifted from her shoulders at your arrival, and you can’t bear to back out after coming all the way here.

Looking back toward the source of your stress, you can’t help but admire him. Scarlet locks hang down around his face, majority pulled back into a sleek, short ponytail to give you a better view of his handsome face— jawline sharp as his teeth and the scar on his forehead slicing through his brow. He’s tall; well over six foot with rippling muscles adorning his long, tan arms. He’s wearing a crisp, white button down rolled up to the elbows, black and red ink poking out of the hem and trailing down his forearms. The store’s pine green apron is pulled snug around his figure, accentuating his broad chest and narrow hips. You already know his ass looks incredible, even though it’s hidden by the plastic countertop. He’s a five course meal on legs, for Christ’s sake, but you know better than to get ideas— he’s a player.

“Of course,” Kirishima replies across the store after her retreating form. His eyes drift over to you, catching your stare. “I’ll take great care of her.”

The door closes, sealing you to your fate with the red beast of a man. For a moment you just stand there, frozen as your mind runs through a thousand thoughts. Before he can comment about your blatant staring, you rip your eyes away from his, throwing the neck of the apron above your head. Tugging the tie around the back of your waist, your fingers fumble with the thick material as you turn to face him again. “So what should I work on?”

He seems amused at your question, even though it’s extremely valid. Not even bothering to hide the generous once-over he gives you when you've finally tightened the bow behind your back, he takes his time to answer you. “Yuki usually does the ordering for next week’s shipments tonight, but I’ll do that. You can put together some bouquets— I’ll give you one to follow off of.”

You’re honestly surprised that he’s giving you real work to do, but then again, you are covering a shift after all. Kirishima shows you the corner behind the counter designated for bouquet assembly, and he helps you make the first bouquet before he slips away behind the curtains of the back room once again, leaving you alone in the store.

He’d picked a simple bouquet for you to reproduce; a dozen red roses with a few sprigs of baby’s breath and a touch of greenery. The work is pleasantly methodic to complete, and by the time the sky is dark, a small sense of pride blooms in your chest at the pile of bouquets you’d managed to complete. It’s five minutes to close, and not a single customer has come into the store in the last hour. You’re snipping the ends off of the last branch of baby’s breath when you hear the rustle of the curtains behind you.

Immediately the atmosphere of the room changes. The once warm and light mood that filled the shop dissipates, replaced with a heavy, silent tension that causes trepidation to ooze into your veins.

“These look pretty good, Y/N,” Kirishima speaks from behind you, thick fingers moving over the packages of cellophane in a slow, analytical sweep. You roll your eyes, wondering if he’d thought you’d do a shit job or something.

You open your mouth to give him a curt thanks, but your voice dies in your throat as you feel his presence a hair’s breadth from your backside. The heat that rolls off of him licks at your skin through your clothes, your hands fixed midair.

“Though this one’s a little off,” he murmurs, breath washing over the shell of your ear. His hands come into your field of vision, arms absurdly thick and just generally large in comparison to you. His hands are just as big, dwarfing yours as he plucks the dainty flower from your stiff fingers.

The tattoos that peek out from the cuff of his sleeves hold a certain gravity that captures your stare. You watch him tuck the stem among the bouquet in your peripheral, placing it in precisely the perfect location to make the ensemble flawless.

Your stomach lurches when his chest brushes against your shoulders, fingers turning in on themselves to form to meager fists that you place atop the counter. “There,” he whispers, and you can feel just how close his lips are to touching your ear.

His voice does something to you; up close like this it sounds almost akin to how a tiger’s purr rumbles through its whole body. Except it’s your body that it thunders through, an unwanted heat beginning to form between your thighs. You shift your legs slightly, bringing your feet closer together in an attempt to mitigate the sensation.

You nearly gasp when he pulls away, eyelids fluttering shut in relief.

“You’re actually pretty good at this,” he comments, returning to the pile of bouquets that rest along the countertop. He starts to tuck them into his arms, red gaze flickering to gauge your expression. There’s a knowing gleam in his eyes, and you try your best not to allow heat to flood into your cheeks. But he doesn’t push it any further, turning and walking around the counter to crouch in front of one of the fridges that line the wall. You find yourself wishing for the cool air to wash over your own face, and you grab a few bouquets before making your way over to him.

You kneel down next to him, slightly annoyed that even sitting down he’s still at least a head taller than you. Stupid proportional man. You open the door and prop it open against your hip, leaning in to place the fresh bouquets inside an empty bucket, following Kirishima’s lead.

Kirishima watches you from the corner of his eye for a moment. “Thank you,” he says as he continues to fill the buckets in front of him, “for filling in for Yuki, I mean. The shop doesn’t look too busy but it needs two people to keep it up and running, so… I appreciate you coming in.”

His words are unexpected, and they bring a fresh wave of heat to your cheeks. You’d never seen the playboy be so openly appreciative before, although honestly you’ve only seen the fuckboy side of him— the one that eyes you down, and blatantly flirts with you when you come to visit your friend during her shifts. “Of course, Kiri,” you reply automatically. The burning in your cheeks only intensifies when you realize you’ve addressed him so informally, but when you turn to apologize to him, you find he’s much too close for comfort. He’s leaned in, taking you by surprise as the scent of his deep, savory cologne wafts into your face. Those carmine eyes piece into yours, making your stomach fill with butterflies, flapping round your stomach in a concoction of nerves and— you hate to admit it— hunger.

“You’ve done such good work today, Y/N,” he nearly whispers, and you watch as his full lips part to utter the words, sharp fangs glinting at you. Before you lose yourself to the moment, he stands, mollifying the intensity and severing you from the invisible string that pulls your gaze to his. You hesitantly take the hand he reaches out to you, trying not to think about how truly huge it is compared to yours. He pulls you up effortlessly, and you still as his other hand comes to touch the back of your waist when you all but collide into his chest. “Sorry,” he says but you wouldn’t deem his tone apologetic, “you’re so dainty, y’know— like a flower.”

You turn on your heel to face the other direction, hoping he doesn’t notice how much his comment affects you; you’re sure you look like a bird with fluffed, ruffled feathers— you certainly feel that way at least. You let out an awkward laugh as you take a hasty step toward the register, your body wanting nothing more than to rid itself of this infuriatingly delicious heat that Kirishima’s words create underneath your skin, licking and crawling along your bones. Finding yourself safely harbored behind the counter once again, your eyes fall to the nearly-completed bouquet you were just wrapping up when Kirishima exited the back room. Your fingers reach for a sprig of greenery, flat wide leaves fanning out in an elegant manner that could only accentuate the beauty and simplicity of the red bouquet.

But your sense of security is proven false, for Kirishima’s deep, demanding voice trickles like honey into your ears. “Red roses are accepted as the symbol of love all around the world,” he pauses for dramatic effect, and you hate to admit you’re left teetering on the edge of your metaphorical seat waiting for his next words, “but true florists know they convey another meaning.”

By the clarity of his diction you can tell he’s standing not far behind you, probably a step or two away. You can feel your heart rate spike again, your breath catching as you wonder what his next move will be. “And what’s that?” You reply dryly but it comes out more like a breathless whisper.

His thick forearms intrude your vision and settle on either side of your figure, leaving just a touch of space from your flesh. Your nearly shaking fingers drop the twig of leaves when he reaches between your hands, plucking a single thorny stem from the assembly before you and holding the soft, velvety petals to the tip of your nose. He doesn’t have to say the words for you to know to take a sniff of the blossom, and you inhale as much as your lungs will take before he answers your question, breath hot against the shell of your ear.

“Desire.”

Your body freezes completely, too shocked to even draw in a breath of air, when his pointy teeth graze the very tip of your ear. Jaw hanging at his sheer impudence, you’re still as a statue when he moves the soft swell of the bloom across your far cheek, soft petals trailing along your fiery skin. The action tickles slightly, causing your head to turn toward his face that hangs down above your shoulder.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” he coos, and again there’s that rumble in his voice that resonates through your frame. He drops the flower, not caring to even spare a glance as it falls from his fingertips. The digits move to cup your chin, middle finger pushing the corner of your jaw to swing your face directly in front of his. Simmering red eyes stare deep into yours, flickering toward your lips briefly before he decides he no longer wants to drag this out.

You’re horrified to moan so unabashedly when his lips press against yours in a vicious siege, dominating them and claiming them as his. His kiss is rough, as if he can’t hold himself back from his beast-like passion, yet it’s much more meaningful and encaptivating than you’d imagined it would be. His arm slithers around your hips to place his hand atop your ribs. Your eyes widen at his undisguised motive, and you open your mouth to call him out— but before you can pull away to tell him to stop, his tongue slips between your lips. Knees wobbly at the sudden intrusion, your tongue begins to move with his, stroking, and swirling, and tangling into one sexy, sloppy mess. His hand slips from its place on your ribs, drifting underneath the side of your apron and cupping your entire breast— not much of a challenge for his large palm.

Kirishima moans into your mouth at your acceptance, and you can only croak out a small whimper of reciprocation. His hand is hot through the nearly sheer fabric of your blouse, and the bra does not do much to block his calloused hands from your chest. His other hand continues to grip your jaw, just hard enough so you’d have to struggle to pull away from him. That is, if you were ever to want to pull away from him.

Your hands are still frozen in front of you, unsure what exactly to do in this situation. Mind completely exhausted of all higher levels of thought, the only emotions you can recognize are lust and satisfaction. Actually, your brain is so hazy with these feelings that you don’t even complain when he starts to undo the tie at the back of your apron. His teeth drag across your bottom lip, the sharp edges not quite pressed hard enough to cut you, but for some reason it brings an unexpected thrill. Pulling away from your mouth, Kirishima’s lips meander across your jaw, his hand tilting your head up so he can continue his journey to your throat. He sucks on the tender flesh there, inhaling your sweet and clean scent as his tongue washes against your skin. You gasp at his brazen action, ass pushing against his hips to discover something long and thick there. Teeth prick into your flesh just a touch too hard, but he’s let go of you after only a minute, and he traces over the small wounds with careful licks.  

“Do you,” you suck in short breath when he squeezes your breast, your words faltering, “Do you do this with all your employees?” You taunt, but Kirishima can recognize the doubt in your tone. It’s hidden under false scorn, but your question is pure and filled with true intent. 

He pauses his treatment on your neck for a spell, and when he speaks, the wet skin on your throat feels cold as his breath falls upon it. “Of course not,” he purrs, raising his head to take your earlobe between his teeth, pulling away and sending a fresh wave of shivers down your spine. Your body jolts at the stimulation, and your bottom brushes against his crotch again. This time, his hand moves from your breast to wrap around your waist, securing you in place. He presses his concealed cock against the swell of your ass, and you bite your lip at the sheer size of him. Leaning in, he places a long stripe on the side of your ear with his hot tongue, and you can hear the teasing dripping from his voice. “Only with the pretty ones who beg for it.”

Kirishima’s hips rut against your ass, and he holds you in place so that the gentle grind he offers is felt in full effect. You nearly moan at the feeling of his hot length rubbing against you, your pussy starting to leak onto your panties. Of course you know he’s been around, but he’s so sexy— and he’s got to be good at what he does with all that experience.

He pauses, angling your face to still in front of his again. There’s a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and a pleased smirk pulling up one corner of his mouth. He turns your face away again, and your eyes fall shut as his nose scrapes along your cheek. “Yuki says to stay away from you,” he grumbles, lips pressing against your cheek as he speaks, a groan slipping from his parted lips as he rolls his hips into yours particularly hard. Your bottom lip is held prisoner between your teeth in a desperate attempt to hold in the moan that craves to be set free. “Says a good girl like you is too good for me to be messin’ around with.” His words convey a dash of irritation, and you’re caught off-guard at the seasoning of disdain.

You wonder when she’d told him that— when they’d talked about you— but Kirishima does not allow you another moment to ponder it. He kisses you again, and all thoughts are cleansed from your brain as his lips seize yours. The hand on your chin drops and you gasp as it lands on the hem of your skirt, curling around you so his hot palm rests on your inner thigh, just a short distance from your soaked panties. Your feet move to draw your legs together, and your quivering thighs rub against his hand as you struggle to make your body move to your will. Pulling back to fill your lungs with fresh air, you mumble against his lips, “Kirishima, that’s—”

“But I know you’re not all that innocent,” he continues, fingertips brushing over the saturated lace. He groans as he traces along your slit, delighted to find you’re more than aroused from all his touching and teasing. Your cheeks feel impossibly hot, and you let out a soft whimper as he grazes over your clit a few times, your head falling back against his broad chest. Kirishima takes in your lustful expression, and the way your eyelashes flutter at him makes his cock twitch in his pants. “You’re so wet, sweetheart— fuck, you’re a naughty little thing. Y’want this, huh?”

Even though you only give him the slightest nod, he seems to accept your response, for his grip around your waist tightens considerably, pulling you flush against him. His hips buck against yours and you moan aloud when the clothed tip of his cock rubs against your panties through your skirt. You can’t even react when he spins you around, your head feeling fuzzy and laden with desire. He grabs your hips, easily placing you on the edge of the countertop before his fingers move to rip off your apron, then coming to undo the buttons at the front of your blouse. “The— The store,” you pant, eyes darting toward the door that currently sports the ‘open’ side of the sign. You swallow thickly when Kirishima falls to his knees, landing at the perfect height for him to put his head between your thighs.

His hands move to snag the hips of your panties, and you nearly whine in embarrassment when he slides the item down your legs, a thick string of your lust connecting the material to your pussy before it severs. Kirishima only moans in awe, pride oozing into his system as he takes in how drenched you are for him. He shoves the soiled lace into his pocket, and you whine at the action, about to complain but he cuts you off. “Don’t worry, Princess. No one’s gonna bother us,” he breathes out as he comes closer to your weeping core, your slick trickling down your ass cheek to drip onto the countertop.

White hot mortification bursts through you as he takes a long whiff of your pussy, and you squirm to move backwards but rough hands trap your thighs open, dragging your ass to hang halfway off the edge. He smirks as he looks up at you, examining your flustered expression.

“You ‘dunno how long I’ve wanted to have a taste of this sweet little pussy,” he growls, and your hands fly to the end of the counter to steady yourself, grasping onto it tightly. He chuckles when your cunt twitches before him at his words, his hands spreading your thighs apart into an obtuse angle, moving forward to drag his nose along your slick folds. You whimper at the contact, clenching around nothing as he teases you, your mouth falling open to suck in ragged breaths of air. His tongue darts out just slightly, and he runs the tip along your slit, separating your folds and savoring how your thighs shake underneath his grasp. “Mmmm,” he moans, sending tiny vibrations echoing through your sopping cunt, “good girls always taste the best.”

You can’t bear to look at him any longer, and you move your hand to place your curled knuckle between your teeth as his tongue creeps out, the flat muscle petting over your entrance slowly. His teeth graze your clit and you whine at the stimulation, the smooth enamel sliding across your bundle of nerves easily. His tongue is slow and playful, stroking you and avoiding where he knows you want him most.

Kirishima nuzzles into your cunt, rubbing your clit again with a lewd snarl pulling up his lips. “Look at me,” he commands and you follow his direction instantly, eyes blown wide with lust and tongue pressed tight against your knuckle. He groans at the sight, and you only shift your hips in his grasp to try to get closer to his mouth. Those scarlet eyes find yours once again, and you struggle to hold his gaze as his lips wrap around your clit, sucking it in and rolling his tongue over it. He moves the muscle hard against you, just fast enough to have you moaning out, your hand flying from your mouth to grasp the top of his crimson hair. Pulling away briefly, he blows a small huff of air across your heat, shit-eating grin splitting to gloat. “Doesn’t that feel good, sweetheart? Be a good girl and keep those pretty eyes on me.”

Your lips waver as they press into a firm line, your thighs straining to close at the intensity when he sucks your clit into his mouth again. But his massive hands hold your legs apart without any effort, and he lashes his tongue against you without mercy. There is nothing more you want other than to throw your head back and close your eyes, jaw hanging open and heated pants drifting out, but you force your gaze to remain on the man between your legs. Your fingernails scrape against his scalp as you try to find some way to channel the pleasure he introduces to your body, but the action only seems to spur him on. One hand leaves your thigh only for his other arm to wrap right around your ass, and your hips buck helplessly against his face when a fingertip prods your slicked entrance.

Kirishima does not ask for permission, and you suck in a silent gasp as his finger spreads your pussy, shock and pleasure shooting through your limbs at the stretch just one finger provides. “You seem a little quiet, sweetheart. Wanna hear that sweet voice of yours again,” he growls against your pussy, tongue flicking down to trail along the edges of his finger lodged deep inside of you.

You can only whimper as he glides the digit out, pushing it back inside slowly and nearly making your eyes roll back in your skull. His finger is already so long and thick— god, if you had fingers like that you could probably make yourself cum in—

A shriek of bliss rips from your lungs as he thrusts his finger into you, curling toward himself and rubbing some place your fingers have never reached. There’s a cocky grin on his face, and you hate to admit he looks so good looking up at you like that from between your legs, but you can’t bring yourself to form any words. “That was cute,” he chuckles, jagged teeth nipping gently at your pearl again and forcing your entire body twitch against him. He makes sure to capture your full attention before he finishes his thought, the corners of his lip curling with something darker. “Is that the best you’ve got? I think you can do better.”

He’s anything but gentle, the heel of his palm rubbing against your folds as he fucks his finger into you at a rapid pace. You’re seeing stars flash before your eyes, the sliver of sanity you were so desperately clinging to ripped from your grasp. You cry out when his mouth returns to your clit, sucking, and flicking, and slurping. Your eyes just won’t stay open, jaw losing the opposite battle as it hangs ajar, broken and unrestrained moans tumbling out like a burst dam.

Kirishima seems satisfied with your reaction, and he begins to groan against your cunt. You’re dripping with enough slick to coat the entire lower half of his face, and the vibrations from his throat only reverberate through your pussy, making you sharply tug on his hair.

“K-Kirishima,” you pant, a plea about to leave your lips. You’re not sure if you want to beg him to stop, or to give you even more. But Kirishima makes that decision for you.

A strained gasp slices though you when his finger slides out of you, only to be pressed against another digit and shoved into you. The unexpected addition causes you to yelp, a strained moan purring out of you as he allows a few slow strokes for you to adjust. Jesus, having two of his fingers in you feels like you’re being stuffed already— a fleeting pang of fear shooting through you as you wonder what his cock will feel like. But you’re not allowed to ponder the thought, his fingers picking up the pace and curling against that spongy spot again.

Body squirming with bliss, your hips thrash in his hold, switching between scooting back and forth, rocking yourself against his mouth. Kirishima can feel your cunt begin to tighten snug round his thick fingers, your walls fluttering and pulsing at his rough but generous stimulation. “Gonna cum? Bet you make sucha pretty face when you cum, come on sweetheart,” he murmurs, slick lips kissing along the top of your pussy, across your clit. You would’ve cum already if he just kept that sly mouth of his on your clit, and you don’t expect his next words to affect you so much as you cum all over his hand. “Sooner you cum, sooner I can split you open with this cock. You want that, right? Wanna have me fuck that tight little cunt— y’wanna be my good girl, huh?”

Kirishima holds your hips close, arm tightening around your bottom as your body spasms with your orgasm, euphoria zipping through your entirety. The broken moan that rings out into the room makes his cock pulse in his pants, trousers feeling suddenly much too snug for his liking. Your head is thrown back in ecstasy, thighs quivering atop the counter and toes curled in your sneakers.

Finally he allows you a moment to breathe, fingers slipping out of your pussy and standing before you. His arm slides up with him, snagging around your waist to lay his palm flat against your shoulder blade and hold you upright. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he smirks as your eyes finally open, only to catch him tracing his tongue along the fingers that just brought you to heaven’s gates.

Your palms land on the broad expanse of his chest, fingers curling around straps of his apron. He laughs as you whine gently, ducking down a considerable distance and allowing you to slip the loop over his head. You undo his shirt as your lips collide, this time in a sloppy and desperate kiss. His tongue rolls over yours in your mouth as he tugs your bra to rest on top of your chest, your breasts spilling out into his eager palm. He thumbs over your nipples and growls against your mouth, and you whimper and allow your fingers to spread across the flesh of his chest. When you open your eyes, you notice a black and red dragon carved into the top of his pec, dipping halfway down from his collar bone and curling around his shoulder down the length of his arm.

Shirts thrown to the floor in crumpled heaps, you trail your fingers down his hard six pack, thumb combing through a neat trail of black above the button of his jeans. Digits running down to cup his hard length, you look at him with wanton eyes and groan. “Wanna taste you, Kiri.”

Kirishima clicks his tongue in his mouth, a beefy hand wrapping around your wrist entirely and steering your hand to rest on the bulge on his thigh. Your eyes widen almost comically, your throat drying and pussy tightening with a cocktail of apprehension and excitement. He leans down to run his tongue along the column of your throat before he pulls back with a brief nibble to your jaw, locking eyes with you. “I don’t think a sweet girl like you can handle taking me in your mouth.”

His fingers move to undo the button on his jeans, the suspense thick in the air as you watch in awe. He tugs the jeans to rest beneath his ass, the bulge in his black boxer-briefs already indicating you might be in for more than you can handle. You try not to let your jaw drop when his cock springs free, swollen tip glazed with a sheen of pre and pulsing veins decorating the entire shaft. Hand around the base of his cock, you whimper as it only covers half his length— his fist is already considerably bigger than yours and suddenly you’re in fear for your pussy.

Kirishima laughs at your expression, pressing a quick kiss to your lips and smoothing the hair from your forehead. “Don’t worry Princess,” he murmurs, arm around your waist again to push your hips to the very edge of the countertop. Your pussy twitches when the head of his cock brushes your folds, and you find yourself wondering if you’re about to be in a world of pain or pleasure. Probably both. “I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he promises, nuzzling his face into your neck and pressing gentle, wet kisses there.

“I don’t— I don’t think it’s gonna fit,” you croak out, arms hesitantly wrapping around his neck. Yet your legs spread on their own accord, inching forward so his cock rubs against your opening.

Kirishima purrs at the action, licking his lips against your throat. “We’ll make it fit, sweetheart.” He brings his hand up to his mouth and spits into it, the crude noise making you flinch and wrinkle your nose in disgust. But it doesn’t last for long— any conscious thought leaves your brain when you glance down, seeing him stroke the top half of his cock with his slick hand. Biting your lip, you close your eyes and pull him closer, trying to prepare yourself for whatever is about to come.

Thankfully his movements are slow as he pushes into your wet cunt, and you’re surprised how easily his length slides into you. The stretch is unreal— unlike anything you’ve ever felt before— and it takes all your willpower not to clench around him for you know that will just cause you further discomfort. He only enters you halfway, grip tight on your waist as if he’s having a hard time controlling himself. Sighing against the flushed skin of your neck, he moves to kiss you again, lips tender and careful.

You whimper when he gives a tentative thrust, your nails clawing into the muscles lining the top of his shoulder. His cock is so thick, and knowing it’s only halfway inside you has your stomach twisting in terror. He’s goddamn huge. It takes a few more gentle thrusts for your grip on him to loosen, and your body relaxes slightly in his arms.

Kirishima clearly has enough experience with this, because the pace he sets is perfect. His hands slide all over your body, cupping and squeezing every inch of flesh he can find. Hips rock into yours at a slow, benevolent pace, your pussy stretched wide around him and fluttering as his thick veins drag along your velvet walls. Lips finding yours again, his tongue and pointed teeth distract you as with each thrust his cock shifts a tiny bit deeper inside of you.

At some point you start to moan, head falling back and mouth open wide as long, unadulterated sounds float out from the bottom of your lungs. Kirishima’s pace hastens, hands landing on your hips and thrusting into you swiftly. His cock is making your head spin, brain full of fog as your heart hammers in your ribs. He swears as his rough hand claps atop your ass cheek, taking note of the way your pussy shivers around him and a sharp squeak is summoned from your lips. “God you’re fuckin’ tight sweetheart— fuck, you a virgin?” He moans, fingers biting into the reddened skin on your ass. When you shake your head at him, he questions how on earth it is possible for you to be this snug around him, but he makes sure to thank whatever deity there is for it.

You cry out when his thumb greets your clit, and he fights to maintain his measured pace at the way your cunt squeezes so tightly. Your slick is dripping onto the countertop, his cock buried deep in your core, again and again. His added stimulation to your clit has you gasping for breath, a coil in your stomach filling with pressure. “Ohgodohgodohgodohgod Kiri please don’t stoppp,” you beg, pupils drifting up into your skull and your hands flying all over his torso, grabbing whatever skin you can reach.

Kirishima groans, palm pushing your tailbone forward so your hips bump against his. You scream at the full intensity of his cock inside of you; every inch and every vein setting fire to your insides, his thumb relentless on your clit. Your vision turns white as you reach your peak, your body seizing in ecstasy. Pulling him close, you wheeze for breath against his chest, his thumb never stilling its movement on your clit until you grab his wrist and rip him off of you, overwhelmed with the bliss from your orgasm rippling through every bone in your body. He’s still moving inside of you— albeit at a snail's pace— but it’s enough for him to prolong the pleasure simmering in your veins.

Finally you collapse into his chest, mind numb and eyelids too heavy to keep open, your lips pressing clumsy kisses into his skin. A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest, his fingers carding through your tresses. “Now, that was cute, Princess,” he says, the amusement in his tone laced with something darker. His fingers curl in your hair, pulling your neck back so your head tilts up to meet his sinister gaze. “But you didn’t get permission to cum, did you?”

Your heart begins to race, your stomach plummeting as he holds your gaze without vigilance. You whine as he pulls out of you, your cunt never feeling this empty before as his hot length disappears. Kirishima picks you up without effort, biceps swelling with intricate swirls of charcoal ink. He places you on wobbling feet before spinning you around, your hands flying out to grab the counter as he shoves your shoulder down.

“That makes you a bad girl, Y/N.”

Horror streaks through your every limb, and yet, only a sinful moan wanders out of you, your feet moving apart and thighs spreading for him to fit between. You crane your head to look at him, drinking up the beautiful man behind you. Broad shoulders trail into a broad, thick chest, tapering down to a tight and powerful waist. Each muscle on his body is prominent and enticing, covered snugly with tan skin that glimmers with a sheen of sweat. His red hair hangs to frame his handsome face, mostly still tugged back into his low ponytail.

As if reading your mind, he moves a hand back and snags the tie off, vibrant locks of scarlet licking the tops of his shoulders. Running a hand over his forehead, he looks at you with a predatory gaze, a smirk curling up one side of his lips. “Y’know what happens to bad girls, right?” You bite your lip and shake your head, egging him on as the top of his cock traces around your opening. “Bad girls get punished.”

The loudest scream of the night rips through you as he thrusts into you without warning, his cock hitting all different kinds of places than before in this new position. Kirishima doesn’t allow you a moment to adjust; he starts slapping his hips against your ass roughly, fist gripping the hair near your scalp again and pulling it tight so your back arches. You cannot breathe, or speak, or think— but somehow his name slips out of your mouth between all the moans.

A harsh slap across your ass sounds, the sting causing your pussy to quiver around his length. “Bad girls don’t get to use my name,” he growls into your ear, leaning over your body to take the tip of your ear between his teeth.

Your eyes are crossed in pleasure, your expression probably comforted into the most lewd, carnal face you’ve ever made. His cock is too big, and you know you won’t be able to walk right tomorrow, but maybe that adds to why it feels so fucking good right now.

“You’re makin’ this seem like a reward, not a punishment, Princess. You like taking it rough, huh?” He teases, pulling your head back by your hair and eliciting another moan from you. “Answer me.”

His cock pounds into your cunt, the sheer stretch enough to make you cum, let alone the length. Your lungs begin to shake as you feel your orgasm building again between your legs. “Yes Sir!” You yelp when his palm cracks against your ass again, your knees wobbly and the pressure continuing to build.

Your reply makes his cock twitch inside of you, and Kirishima sucks in a cool breath of air between clenched teeth. His hand grips the bottom of your thigh, and you cry out when he hikes your knee onto the countertop, cock drilling into you even deeper than before.

Your pussy twitches as you cum instantly, a drawn-out moan vibrating through your throat. Fingernails scraping along the countertop in your gaze of euphoria, Kirishima is forced to halt his assault on your cunt as it squeezes him tightly, his teeth piercing into his lip in pleasure. But as soon as your cunt loosens, he’s fucking into you with renewed vigor, your hips knocking into the counter as he plunges his massive cock into your sloppy heat. “You just don’t fuckin’ learn,” he snarls, wrist twisting to pull your hair tighter, bending your spine to his will.

“I’m sorry Sir,” you choke out, tears beginning to trickle down your cheeks. Each thrust brushes your cervix and it hurts, but at the same time the intensity of it all feels incredible. “I didn’t know I could… could cum so q-quick! Please, Sir— ah!— Please forgive me!”

Kirishima tosses his head back at your admission, your apology immediately accepted. His hand slips from your hair to your throat, turning your head so he can see your face as he pounds into you without mercy. The tears slipping down your cheeks make your eyes sparkle and he groans, his own end in near reach and only approaching quicker at the sight of you. “Y’look so pretty when you cry, sweetheart— shit, I know you have one more for me,” he leans in and pokes his tongue out to collect a salty tear, kissing the wet skin on your cheek. His thumb on your throat wanders to your lips, and you take the digit into your mouth with enthusiasm, keeping your eyes locked with his.

You whimper around his finger when his other hand comes around to circle your puffy clit, already overstimulated and thighs shaking. Your legs try to close but he keeps them spread apart, cock still ramming into you as his lips trail down to your neck. His hand on your throat loosens and comes to rest on your ass, pulling your cheeks apart and tracing his slippery thumb over your puckered hole. Your eyes widen with shock, and you force your voice to work even though it comes out scratchy and breathless. “W-What are you— Kiri wait, that’s—”

“Have you ever had anything in here, Princess?” He inquires as his thumb slips into you, making you shriek at the fiery stretch. Pushing the digit into your ass, he moans at the sight of you sucking in his thumb so obediently, your hole trembling and squeezing round his finger.

You shake your head, at a loss for words once again. You can feel his cock rub against his finger through your walls, and though it’s a foreign, unfamiliar sensation, it’s far from unwelcome. More tears of pure pleasure descend from your lashes, the combination of all his stimulation driving you insane. You can feel your climax building with every thrust, your walls dragging along his cock and his finger, his other hand rolling your clit.

“C’mon, baby. Cum for me, it’s alright,” he purrs, balls feeling tight with his near release. His fingers pinch and rub all over your slick clit, and you mewl out as that familiar pressure heightens in your stomach. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you? Show me how good you are, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t allow you a second to think, and you whine out for him when his hips crash against your ass, shoving his entire cock inside your soaked hole and spreading your aching walls. The spot he’s hitting with the head of his cock causes your eyes to cross— you didn’t even know it existed before now— and suddenly everything is too much, and you’re crying out his name as your orgasm tears through you.

Kirishima gives a few more hard thrusts before he’s there too, the tips of his teeth piercing into your neck as he floods your pussy with his heavy load. Your cunt pulses around him, milking out every drop he has to offer as you’re thrown into waves of complete euphoria. Eyes closed, toes and fingers coiled tight in pleasure, you whimper as he gives your clit a few more rubs before his hand moves up to push his hair back. “Good girl,” he praises, hot palms sliding along your curves and rubbing circles into your skin.

You’re totally spent; body limp atop the countertop, nipples hard and hot against the cool plastic, tears drying on your cheeks, ass feeling warm and fuzzy, and pussy trembling with the aftershocks of your climax. Kirishima is careful when he pulls out, and you can’t even find the energy to make a noise of complaint at the emptiness between your legs. You can feel his release begin to dribble out of your abused hole, and your body twitches when he presses his thumb in to shove his seed back inside.

He sighs as he grabs a paper towel from the sink behind him, dragging it along his weeping, yet still impressive, length. As you’re still catching your breath, he walks around the counter and into your field of vision, tucking himself back into his pants nonchalantly. When he reaches the door, he flips the ‘open’ sign over to ‘closed’ before sauntering over to you, eyes trained on yours. “Well, sweetheart,” he chuckles, gaze raking over your exhausted form, still collapsed on top of the counter in a sedated-like state. He reaches forward, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear as he smiles brightly, but a shadow of something more ominous lingers in those scarlet eyes. “You’re gonna have to cover Yuki’s shifts more often.”

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

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soooo that happened. finally some dom kiri on my blog!!! please be sure to lemme know if you enjoyed <3

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[fatiguing-thoughts]

"Victoria's Game IV" - Embry Call x Reader

Summary: Part four to "Victoria's Game." Read Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four here Final Installment babes

T/W: mentions of blood

I jerked awake, dripping in sweat as my phone vibrated on my nightstand.

I felt Embry's weight on me and listened to the complete and utter silence surrounding us. I let out a sigh of relief before looking at my phone screen.

Alice.

I began to panic as I saw her name light up the screen, knowing her call would not be with good news. I swallowed hard before picking the device up and placing it up to my ear as my hand shook.

"(Y/N), (Y/N)! We're on the way. Call Sam and tell everyone to get there. She's coming and she won't be coming alone. Who's with you now?" Her frantic voice pierced my ears.

All the air escaped my lungs as full panic set in. Was my nightmare as much of a premonition as I was suddenly fearing?

"Embry!" I sobbed, shaking him awake.

He quickly jumped up, a worried look on his face.

"What? What's wrong?" His eyes were almost bulging out of his skull as he waited for me to answer.

"They're coming, Alice called. They'll be here any minute to help but you have to help Jake and Quil." My voice was shaky as the uncertainty took over my mind.

Was I sending him to his death?

Would I be the cause of everyone's death?

Wouldn't it just make more sense to just lose me than everyone else?

Embry didn't say much, he just looked deep into my eyes before pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.

"I love you." He whispered before jumping out the window.

The nightmare flashed through my memories yet again, the panic setting in further.

But then I remembered the Third Wife.

I quickly ran downstairs into the kitchen, grabbing a knife from the drawer.

I began to hear the thumps of large paws, snarling, and barking coming from outside. I knew they were approaching and that my time was limited.

So I waited by the back door, where I knew the guys waited. I watched through the glass as they began looking around, hoping to see the blood-sucking demons arrive.

A minute in, I saw blurry movement in the treeline before Jacob and Quil took one down. Embry handled another. But then, another six arrived, the boys were outnumbered.

"Shit." I mutter to myself. "Where are the Cullens?"

I bit my lip as I saw two of them jumping on Quil. A whimper escaped his lips as he was trying to buck them off his back. He was beginning to struggle as Jacob and Embry were busy trying to destroy the leeches charging them.

Quil grew louder and I knew I had to act before it was too late. I quickly slid open the back door as I dragged the blade across my skin.

A drop of blood hit the ground, causing every single vampire to focus their attention on me, giving the guys the time to get themselves together; giving them time to destroy some of these leeches.

I winced as I felt the warm liquid drip down my arm, a burning sensation where the blade once was.

I watched as Embry ripped the head off of the one who was closest to the door, Quil and Jacob each getting another. They were finally even, furthering the fight into their favor.

One almost made their way to me before Emmett appeared from the treeline, disposing of them accordingly. Rosalie and Alice following suit.

Sam and Jared showed up, Leah and Seth trailing not too far behind. I watched as the fight unfolded before me, in shock as there were more vampires that showed up than I had realized.

But where was Victoria?

I looked all around, trying to spot the fiery red hair. I became painfully aware of my bleeding arm, causing me to hold the wound in an effort to stop the bleeding. I backed up further into my house, realizing how far out I had come. I then tripped over a rock, falling on my ass.

I winced in pain as I became painfully aware of my surroundings once again. My eyes squeezed shut as I tried to pick myself up, but something kicked me back down.

"Hello." Her silky voice taunted, a sick smile on her face as she loomed above me.

I was at a loss for words, it had felt as if my chest caved in on itself. My legs became jelly and I couldn't move. My eyes couldn't bring themselves to tear away from her burning gaze. Those blood red eyes that have been haunting me for what felt like years, but was a mere few weeks.

"What's wrong, cat got your tongue?" She cocked her head to the side, her smile softening as her ice cold hand grabbed my ankle.

"I-I" I couldn't get the words out.

"I'll make this quick." She promises, before she squeezed my ankle.

I felt a sharp pain as I felt it crack. I found myself screaming in pain.

But as soon as it happened, she had let go of me. Rosalie had grabbed her off of me, throwing her into the air. Adrenaline was helping with the pain.

I watched as I was writhing on the ground. I watched as Embry caught her midair, wrapping his jaws around her.

As they fell to the ground with a thud, Jake pinned her down as Embry ripped off her head. The sight before me wasn't one I had ever seen in person, only one I had imagined in my nightmares.

I had never seen the pack or the Cullens actually fight. I had only listened to them talk about it, imagined it for myself. But it was something Embry said he never wanted me to see, he would always get mad at Quil for telling me about them. He wanted me separate from this world.

He did his best.

Carlisle's touch brought me out of my thoughts, even startling me a bit.

"I'll fix this up for you. You'll be okay." He promised with kind eyes.

I noticed as Emmett, Rosalie, and Alice piled up the remains before Emmett threw his zippo on it. Instant flames soared, engulfing the pile into absolute nothingness.

The pack had phased back, running over to me from the treeline where clothes were stashed.

"(Y/N)..." Embry whispered, his eyes filled with worry and guilt as he crouched down to my level.

"Em, I'm fine." I insisted as I met his gaze.

We all stood there in silence as the pain in my ankle grew once again, causing me to wince.

"Embry, bring her to my home. I'll work on her ankle there." Carlisle broke the silence.

Embry only nodded before scooping me up into his arms.

Everyone else silently decided it was best to give space, but I sent a thankful glance and smile as best as I could as I grit my teeth from pain before they could leave.

Embry made his way over to my car, surely ready to drive me to the Cullens.

"Embry." I murmured.

No answer from him. He simply placed me in the car and put my seatbelt on for me with a pained look on his face. I winced in pain as my foot hit the side of the door and he almost looked as if he was going to throw up.

"Embry, please." I begged. "Please don't ignore me. I'm safe, you kept me safe."

"Your ankle is purple and the size of a grapefruit. I did not keep you safe." He says before shutting my car door and making his way to the driver's side.

"I think we both know a broken ankle is a happy ending for what this could have been." I reach over, rubbing the back of his hand with my thumb.

"I know, I just wish it wasn't. I'm glad a broken ankle is the worst of it, but what if... what if it wasn't? How was I supposed to live with myself after that? I couldn't. I- I thought I was going to lose it when I saw her by you." He chokes. "I almost thought I was going to lose you."

"You'll never lose me, Em." I whispered, leaning my head on his shoulder. "I love you."

"I love you, too." He pressed a soft kiss to the top of my head.

"Thank you for saving me." I gave his arm a slight squeeze. "But I'm in a lot of pain and if you could start driving to Carlisle's I would greatly appreciate that." I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Shit, sorry. Yeah, let's go get you checked out." He worriedly chuckled as he began driving down the dark road. _____________________________________ Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four