#i feel like it's a little harsh straight off the bat sorry about that

[nobuverse]

@mysticallities From here

While she admires the servant's silver-laced concern, it falls on deaf ears. She may have had too much to drink, but she did not require assistance to walk down a short flight of stairs. "Perhaps I should make it a challenge to see who can fall down the most flights of stairs then; you go first~" She mocks the servant's words, blue eyes staring right back into the other's red. The girl lets go of Nobunaga's hand and proceeds to walk down the stairs with no issue, besides what a slight sway in her steps may otherwise suggest. "Do you know what your task is, Nobunaga-san?" She asks, adjusting her gloves and looking back at the Archer with a focused gaze, no challenge intended.

"Now that's a certain a challenge I would excel at"

She leaves the specifications of her response vague - as to whether she'd be the one falling or pushing the other down the stairs. Her hand makes no effort to hold onto that of her master's as she takes it back.

There was really something she didn't like about this one. Maybe it was just that higher-than-thou attitude; but something else was nagging at her. Like an infernal worm crawling in her chest when she looked at those eyes.

Her eyes stay fixed on the other girl, unwavering as she looks back at her own. Her heavy boots clang against the stairs as she descends towards her.

"No. Please inform me, my master."

The response is sharp and conscience. She doesn't feel like chatting with this one.

[sugudollz]

corrupting virgin suguru 🧎🏽‍♀️

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Corrupting virgin Suguru? Hm… yeah.

MDNI!! Virginity loss (Suguru obv). Big dick Suguru lmao. He refers to you only as “baby” (even though I was ITCHING to make him call you “mamas” I had to restrain myself. It just didn’t feel right.) AFAB reader. Experienced! Reader. Virgin Suguru has been on my mind since foreverrr 😩. Not proofread lol. I have a discussion due later today but erm. Um anon sorry if this is disappointing ummm THIS IS SO RUSHED SOMETHING CAME UP BUT I DIDN’T WANT TO MAKE YOU WAIT 😭. This was supposed to be so different bro…

“BABY, WAIT—” Suguru pants, watching as your hands reach down for the zipper of his jeans. His big hand shoots down for your wrists, holding them in a firm grip as he tries to recollect himself.

You bat your lashes up at him, feigning innocence and obliviousness. Giving him the prettiest look you can muster, you ask him in a sweet voice, “what? What’s wrong, Sugu?”

And of course it’s that look you pull every time you want something from Suguru. He loves it, your pretty eyes, gorgeous lips, except he hates it at the same time because he can never say no to that sweet look.

“Just… wait a sec…” Suguru mutters, cocking his head to the side as he takes in deep breaths. You pout but listen to him anyways. However, your eyes stayed glued to the obvious outline of his hard cock, how strained it looks and how tight it must feel.

Tonight, like every other night, was supposed to end in a few kisses after a nice, relaxing shower and comforting cuddles. Then go straight to bed. Like always, as if routine. The only thing different? You were feeling a little… impatient.

While your lips were pressed against Suguru’s, you slid your tongue right past his, then proceeded to scoot up on his lap. Your hands wandered from his chest to the back of his neck, securing your balance to push yourself closer against Suguru’s body. In the process, your clothed pussy rubs against his half hard dick, making you giggle and him gasp.

“Lemme do this, Sugu,” you mumble in the crook of his neck, your lips right against his flesh and your lashes tickling it. “Please?”

The way you speak so gently is so enticing; what is Suguru meant to do? Say no? Sighing, he lets go of your wrists and leans back, looking down at you as he notices an eager smile embrace your features.

Of course, Suguru has been thinking about this day ever since he met you. The feeling of your little hands wrapped around his length, or the feeling of your warm cunt enveloping his dick and clamping down on it. It’s what he’s fisted himself to every night before bed. Why wouldn’t he?

“Mm… mkay…” he mumbles, nodding his head and relaxing his body against the headboard of the bed. You jump from his lap to stand on your knees, legs on either side of him and hovering over him. Your hands make quick work of reaching for his zipper and undoing it, mouth practically salivating from the thought of fucking him.

After undoing his zipper, Suguru lifts up his hips to allow you to shimmy down his jeans. He watches in anticipation as you do your thing, sweat building at his forehead and in between his knitted brows as he sinks his teeth so harsh into his lower lip it almost draws blood.

Slowly, you rid Suguru of his boxers, your eyes aimed at him the whole time. Then, your eyes dart down to his freed cock when you hear his breath hitch.

“F-fuck…” he mumbles, throwing his head back as his hand flies to the sheets of the bed, clenching them tightly. Your eyes shine with lust, biting down on your tongue to suppress any unnecessary noises. You can feel your panties getting damp just from touching him, squeezing your thighs together for some friction.

After more and more gradually aggressive strokes, you come to an end and remove your hands. Suguru watches you attentively, eyeing the way you slide your skirt off of your waist, followed by teasingly removing your panties.

With your wet pussy almost fully exposed to Suguru, he gulps, eyes following as you take his cock and line it up with your pussy. After taking in a deep breath, you gently lower yourself on his length, gasping when you feel his tip enter you.

“Shit…!” Suguru pants, doing his best to keep watching the way you lower yourself onto his dick. You’re watching it as well, the way your wet cunt sucks him in, sweat forming between your knitted eyebrows.

“Mmph—Suguru, you’re so deep—” you whine, sucking your stomach in as if that’d make it any easier to take him fully. “So big…” you mumble.

That’s when Suguru is as deep in as you can take, already on the verge of whining.

“You feel so…” he trails off, already lost in the feeling of your tight walls hugging his cock in every right way. That was new, obviously, your juices dripping down on his length.

“M gonna start moving now, ‘Kay, pretty boy?” You whisper sweetly, but your eyes are telling a different story. Suguru takes a few seconds to collect himself before he nods and breathes out a quiet, “okay,”

You start moving your hips up and down, Suguru’s hands flying for whatever stability he can find to keep him grounded to earth. As much as he tries to keep his attention on your pretty face, he just can’t because the way your pussy grips him like a vice is too overwhelming he just has to squeeze his eyes shut.

His cock stretches you out so well, and he didn’t even know it. Murmurs of “fuck,” slip past Suguru’s lips repeatedly, his shirt riding up his torso and exposing his skin.

Suguru never thought this is where his day would end, but he’s glad it did. After months of getting himself off to unrealistic and repetitive porn videos, he’s finally feeling the godsent gift that is your warm pussy sucking his cock in, and it seems like you’re enjoying it too.

Suguru has never touched a woman sexually. He doesn’t know how to move his hips to give you pleasure. But of course he wants to help you, so he bucks his hips up into you, groaning when your walks clamp down on him. You whimper at the stimulation, throwing your hands on Suguru’s sweaty chest, digging your nails into the flesh.

“F-fuck, Sugu—don’t do that—” you whine and your head drops as you pant, putting a halt to your hips. Suguru nods and slowly opens his eyes to meet your sweaty body.

“Alright, shit, my bad.” And you start bouncing again, fucking your pussy onto his cock steadily, your tits jiggling from the effort. You can feel the tip of his dick hitting that sweet spot inside of you, making you moan with every push. “Feels so good…” he says that quietly, almost inaudibly, and he can feel his dick twitching inside of you, as can you.

Suguru then realizes that this is way better than fucking his own cock at night—the way your walls easily get stretched out from the sheer size of his girth, the warmth of your cunt, just the feel of it, it had his eyes rolling back. Being a sorcerer all of his Highschool years and even after, his never had the chance to get laid or any of the sort, so this is a thrilling new feeling. He can already feel his lower abdomen tightening, legs twitching and breaths shaky.

Of course, you can feel the change in his body language and demeanor. Smiling smugly, you lean down to his ear, attempting to keep the steady rhythm of your hips as you breathe into his ear.

“Gonna cum?” The words roll of your tongue with a hint of playfulness laced in your tone. Suguru huffs and grunts, nodding his head as if he was tired.

“Yeah,” his voice is breathy when he utters this. You giggle and raise your hips just before aggressively slamming back down to his pelvic bone, the cock hitting all the right spots. Suguru’s hands immediately fly for your waist, digging his fingers into the flesh but he tries to keep his hold gentle.

Continuing with your sly movements, you can feel a knot in your tummy tying. Suguru, as with every other thing about you, notices the way your pussy grips tightly onto his girth and the way your hips get sloppy and exhausted.

“Cum, Suguru,” you whisper sensually, and in response, Suguru’s head snaps your way, confusion painted on his face.

“I-in you…?” It’s obvious he’s a bit nervous, since of course he doesn’t want to put a baby in you the first time he’s entered your pussy.

“Mhm,” you hum and to that Suguru just exhales deeply. In just seconds, Suguru is emptying his load inside of you, groaning and moaning the whole way. His head is thrown back in the process, his teeth sunken into his lower lip. He repeats your name under his breath like a prayer, along with murmurs of “fuck” and “so good”.

It’s a great feeling, the sensation of orgasming. His eyes roll to the back of his head and you’re fucking him the whole way through, which is what brings you to your climax. You’re gushing all over his cock, whines and whimpers falling from your parted lips. Burying your head in his neck, your sweat drips down onto his skin.

Your juices coat his dick, and Suguru opens his eyes just to watch it—but they soon wander to your pretty face like it was second nature, and it’s there he sees how gorgeous you look as you come down from your high.

“I love you so much,” Suguru pants and from the sudden confession you’re caught off guard, but smile lovingly anyways and kiss his neck.

“I love you, too,”

You carefully bend your upper body over Suguru’s, your face in the slope of his neck and Suguru doesn’t even think to mention the fact that his cock is still buried in your sweet pussy.

© 2023 sugudollz only on Tumblr — do not copy, repost, translate, or steal.

[onmyyan]

A/n: had a thought about a homelander-like reader in the DC universe, reader has homelanders powers minus his incel-like qualities just something self indulgent

It was over in an instant, the second her eyes refocused she calmly stood from the ratty chair he had her bound to, the dark steel cuffs he'd been sworn would weaken her became paper as she stood and shredded them to nothing. The tall young woman rolled her head between her shoulders, and the small grimace on her face fell after a satisfying pop echoed throughout the room.

"You know how I feel about people poking around up there." She smiled at him, tapping her finger against her temple, then took her first step forward, like a predator stalking its prey. 

"In fact- I'm almost certain you know how much I hate it." Another calculated step.

They both knew she could end him anytime she felt like it, so the slow almost teasing way she hadn't yet, chilled him to his core.

"I was only trying to right a wrong- you must understand the world must be protected-"

His tearful plea was cut off by the harsh bark of laughter leaving the younger woman. "Please, this is me you're talkin' to. I know you old man- you don't give a shit about the world." Her smile cracked giving him a flash of the beast he'd raised.

"You just want someone to remember your sorry ass when you keel over and die. You want them to think you were worth something- well guess what? You were. You made me, and I'll always remember you for that." She stared down at the man she'd called Papa, her serene smile looked as hollow as it felt.

She'd finally made it close enough to see the microscopic beads of sweat on his upper lip. Her stare was eerily curious, (e/c) eyes forced him frozen as she looked him over, akin to the way a cat stared at a mouse it was about to bat around for fun. Her (s/c) hand came up to rest gently on his chest, dead center. She patted the area a few times as gently as she could, the force shaking him in place, he moved for the syringe on his belt, if he could get to it��fast enough he had a chance of survival.

"I'll also never forgive you for it." 

He saw it before he felt it. In a flash she had pushed forward and punched a hole straight through his chest, her fingers made contact with the cool cement wall behind him, Her free arm came up to cradle the back of his head, and she calmly pets his hair in a gesture she'd only seen in the hero films they showed her, his choking, bloodied sputters and gasps were quickly shushed.

"I think it's time for me to move out." She sighed to herself, yanking her arm back from the warm insides of her papa. Her face twisted in disgust at the chunks and viscera clinging to her skin, she wiped as much as she could off on the cleanest part of the deadman shirt before making her way out of the room, she had a few more doctors and nurses to say goodbye to.

Across the city was a soon-to-be hero having a not-so-good time.

Tim was having a very, bad day.

His alarm never went off forcing him to run to his classes to be on time, some freshman got too excited at lunch and knocked his soup all over the front of Tim, he had to wear his ugly gym shirt for the rest of his classes, then that idiot Kon accidentally crushed his phone with a little too much strength so Tim was screwed when it came to patrol tonight, he had a police scanner on that thing.

Then it began to rain. Sure he had an umbrella, but with the way it was coming down, it was useless.

He huffed a harsh breath through his nose, trying everything not to scream, there was an alleyway nearby that had a cover, and he quickly ran under it to avoid getting any more soaked. That was when he saw her.

A woman stood hovering over a mewling kitten, the small creature's desperate cries were almost inaudible from the harsh pound of the rain. He watched as she just stared at the helpless creature and felt himself hit his breaking point, he stormed over with a vengeance. 

Tim glared at the odd woman, his attitude more directed at his shit day than her.

"You some kinda' sicko? What the hell are you doing just standing there?" He yelled poking the taller woman in the shoulder.

She didn't budge.

"I can't grab her cuz' I can't control my strength. I think I might hurt her." She responded in such a sad tone, the guilt in her gaze made his stomach lurch with shame, the instant regret was a new feeling he noted, not one he enjoyed. "And you're standing there because you couldn't leave her either." He said it more like a statement than a question. 

The drenched (h/c) haired woman remained silent, offering a nod instead. He cleared his throat, a nervous pattern developed in middle school, and took the few steps needed to kneel next to the creature, he untied it simply enough and the small kitten instantly calmed down, rubbing its little face against his palm.

He risked a glance up and found the stranger smiling down at the scene before her. His heart did a funny little skip when he caught her gaze. From the way her eyes reminded him of warm honey, to the way she stared at him as if he was the most interesting person in the world, down to the way the rain beat against her (s/c) face, her plush lips curled up in that smile that sent shivers through his belly, everything about her pulled him in. She was enchanting so- enchanting, he'd thought it was her quirk.

"Thanks, mister." The tall woman smiled at him so brightly he felt the urge to shield his eyes, but he couldn't look away, she stood there like this goddess carved from marble, it almost seemed unfair how she lit up the grimy alleyway, how she looked to good just standing there.

"My name is Tim, what's yours?" She seemed to ponder it for a second, her head tilting, eyes calculated as she smiled at him again, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone, 

"(Y/n), I'm gonna be a hero." Her greeting was odd, but he returned her smile with a small one of his own, she stuck her hand out and shook his with a toothy grin, he could feel her strength in the simple motion as they shook hands. He had a feeling she could give Kon a run for his money.

"What are you doing out here? Besides rescuing kittens that is."

"Oh, you know stuff. Normal stuff." Was her calculated answer? He laughed to himself a bit, "Well whatever you're doing, you know you don't have any shoes on right?" She looked down with a hum. 

"It would appear I do not." He took that moment to really observe her. She looked like a gorhamite, including her clothes, she wore a white set of hospital thermals, well mostly white. Splotches of pink stained her front as if she'd been splattered with paint. Thick (h/c) curls clung to her perfectly carved face, framing it even more, the fabric of her clothes hugging her body like a second skin. He had a feeling she'd been in the hospital recently, judging by the thin band across her right wrist. He got close enough to read the word 'HOMELAN' but the rest was concealed, He chose not to comment on that, having a feeling one wrong move would send her flying.

"You hurt?" He asked standing to his full height, he had to look up a bit to meet her gaze, "Nah- I'm all good hot stuff." She made a point to flex her arm playfully, even in jest he could see she was packing some serious muscle under there.

"You running from someone?" Again she took her time to respond, her finger tapping against her chin in thought.

"Hmm, I'm gonna go ahead and say no. They definitely can't chase me anymore." The thought pulled a snort from her as if genuinely tickled, by the it, her gaze seemed gleeful, but something in her tone made his stomach do a flip, and he didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

Another thing that caught his attention was that innocent look in her eyes whenever she looked away from him, how she stared at the ivory leaf-covered brick with the most interested expression, something in the way she looked at the sky reminded him of a child's innocence.

It was as if this was her first time outside or something.

His heart had been steadily rising throughout the entire interaction, a strange but warm feeling began to grow, and a dangerous little seed had sprouted in his heart the second he realized she was just some poor soul looking for someone to reach out and save her.

He could definitely be that person.

"I can't leave you out here like this- do you have someplace to stay?" He watched her rack her brain for an answer.

"Yes, thank you." She nodded more to herself than him and began walking in the opposite direction, straight into the storm that seemed to only worsen. He cursed under his breath and did a light jog to catch her. "You're a terrible liar." It was instinct to lift his umbrella higher, now standing side by side the good few inches on him really seemed to stand out.

"You can tell? Gotta work on my poker face then." The smirk on her plump lips felt teasing, paired with the confident way she carried herself left the purple-haired man with a swarm of dancing butterflies in his tummy.

"I know somewhere safe-" he flicked his tongue out over his lip, "I'm..connected with some heros in this town, I can protect you." He said as earnestly as he could, something telling him not to let this one go, he rubbed her arm, trying to warm her with his hand as he gave her a crooked grin. She giggled at the man before her, she wasn't used to people worrying for her so intensely, so honestly, to think she'd known him five minutes and he'd shown her more kindness than any of the cold, calculating doctors who raised her ever had, it made her laugh to herself. He had no idea how little she needed protection, but still, the thought made her chest feel funny and warm.

 "Oh jeez, my own personal hero? Lucky day." He returned her grin, the festering feeling of obsession gripped him all that more. With that, he took a calculated risk and linked his pinkie with hers. "Come on, it's not far." The kitten was happily asleep in his hoodie pocket, the stallion beside him reminded him a lot of a feral kitten, just asking to be taken home and pampered.

[chaichaiiskai]

Can I request a one shot for baki with a cute innocent boyfriend in public but when alone together or when no one is looking he's always teasing him and being a naughty boy causing baki needing to put him in his place to be a good boy👉👈

notes: hiya, 'course ya can request for baki boi, hope ya enjoy this nyohohoho...

warnings: horny horny horny, male reader, amab reader, mlm, homophobes don't interact, spanking, teasing, edging, a little mention of public teasing.

"OH, so, you think it's funny to tease me like that in front of your friends? Thought you said you wanted me to make a good impression on them." Baki spoke, shutting and locking the front door of your apartment once you were both through the door. In response, you shrugged at his words and took off your shoes before standing back up straight to peek back over your shoulder at him, almost bashfully batting your eyelashes at him.

"Hm? Tease? What do you mean? And no need to worry, my friends seem to like you! I think it's a mission accomplished!"

With a smile of triumphance, you lightly clapped your hands together in celebration, a hint of malicious intent linger behind your grin. Laughing, he seemed to smile in bewilderment as you attempted to gaslight him. "Nah nah nah. Don't play me like that. I know your games."

Innocently, you turned around and gave him your best puzzled look, tilting your head to the side as if you were some confused puppy. Baki could barely stop the amused look that crossed his features as he approached you, challenging your adorably confused daze with a look that said 'really?'

"You gotta be kiddin' me. Don't look at me like that... you and I both know you had your damn hand on my dick while we were watching Barbie in a public theater with your friends. And don't even try to make anymore excuses, talking about you 'missed the bucket of popcorn' or 'oh dear, my hand slipped.'" As he spoke, the redhead started to close the gap between the two of you even more, gazing at you with a mix between irritation, amused, and something that excited you. You nearly gasped, feigning your innocence even further. "But- it really was an accident. I didn't mean to touch you like that."

The smile suddenly dropped from Baki's face and suddenly, you were hoisted over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, a large hand striking your ass through the fabric of your pants. Even with the padding you could still feel the burn, causing you to yelp in shock and swat at his back in protest. "Hey! Be careful!"

To answer your warning, he simply slammed his hand down onto the other cheek, this time it was his turn to smile triumphantly as he carries you to the bedroom.

A number of things could occur right now. Which one...? You weren't sure. But nothing could have prepared you when Baki plopped down onto the edge of the bed with you draped over his lap, your stomach pressed against his thigh thighs. You missed the devious look on his face as he tugged down the back of your pants and undergarments until they exposed your bare ass, your bottoms bunching up beneath your cheeks.

"W-wait! I'm sorry! Don't—"

"Hah? You want me to stop? Haven't even gotten started yet though, sunshine. C'mon. It's only fair that you take it like a champ. Makin' me suffer through the movie. I wanted to watch Barbie girlboss it up, but nah nah nah, you wanted to play with me." He rested his hand onto one of your ass cheeks and gripped it, proceeding to teasingly play with it like a stress ball. "'s hard to concentrate on shit with you and your coniving little fingers. Wastin' my money. Teasing me in front of your friends when it was your idea in the first place to go and hang out with them. That's not fair, is it?"

Your lips part to answer but you can't, not when he raises his hand and brings it down onto bare skin, your lower body jerking in surprise and arousal from the harsh impact that nearly has you dizzy. The sting hurts but in a way that makes you shut your eyes to steady your wandering mind.

It didn't stop there.

He aims for the other cheek, bringing his hand down with such an intensity that you have to bite down on your lip and scratch at the duvet on the bed. You couldn't even answer him. He doesn't seem to like that.

"Hah? C'mon and say something. Maybe an explanation can help your case. But if I don't like what I hear, y'know what comes next."

You felt yourself become aroused, your cock stiffening in your underwear as it pressed against your boyfriend's leg. The rough treatment wasn't anything new, but the purposeful spanking was.

He waits for your answer, feigning concern as he massages your ass which he'd just assaulted with his rough hands, the sting is still present on your skin and the skin on his hand doesn't help soothe it in the slightest.

"I'm waiting. What? Can't think of anything? C'mon, baby boy. I know you're smart enough to formulate sentences." He then paused, seeming to have a wave of realization over him, and since your face is down on the bed, you miss the evil glint in his eyes. "Oooh. I know. You wanted me to teach you a lesson, eh? Ya coulda just asked."

And with that, he nearly cackled before lifting his hand yet again to proceed the spanking session, not holding up on any of his strikes. He barely batted an eye at your whimpers of protest but seemed to enjoy the way your legs would shake with each spank.

You couldn't even last two minutes before you began begging, trying to stop tears from spilling. "I'm sorry! Please... please give me a break! I'll be good...augh... promise. It burns!" You couldn't stop the fear tears that ended up rolling down your face, squeezing your eyes shut to keep your act together, feigning toughness despite sounding so broken.

This seemed to make the session pause, Baki seemed to be thinking deeply about something, mostly about your apology. You panted, glad to have the brief moment of relief as you wiped your eyes with a shaky hand. Suddenly, you were manhandled around and dropped down onto the bed— right on your stinging ass. You yelped in pain, thrusting your hips towards the ceiling to grant some relief from the stinging. In the same note, Baki watched you, looking down at your crotch. And to his surprise and amusement, you were stiff in your underwear and he could easily make out the wet spot that was present. Without a word, his brow quirked and he hooked his index finger under the waistband of your briefs, pulling them down to expose the embodiment of your lust. There was a pearl of precum beading at your tip and a noticeable throb in your shaft.

He gasped, acting like he was truly perplexed by your arousal. "Oh? Look at that. I barely touched you, Y/N." He then wrapped his hand around your shaft, pressing his thumb down on the slit of your cock, almost as if he pressing a button to set something off. In response, you whimpered, shifting around and trying to writhe out of his grasp. He simply laughs and gives your cock a squeeze n' tug, a moan of surprise being the only thing that you can muster afterwards.

Finally, you regain enough strength to look at him pleadingly through a half-lidded gaze, reading down to rest your hands on top of his.

"P-please..."

Baki almost blushed with just how endearing you looked. Pouty, pretty, and almost teary-eyed. He looked genuinely shocked as his lips formed a small 'o' and his eyes widened a little. He looked almost like he was about to grant your unspoken wish, but he didn't. Instead, he squeezed your cock again, causing your back to arch off of the bed, nails digging into hand from the sudden surge of pleasure.

"Please what? Please keep going? If you say so."

He then cracked a wild grin, beginning to circle his thumb around your sensitive tip, using your pre for a bit of lube, the sensation has you a babbling like a bafoon before you can even blink back another onslaught of tears.

The dig of your nails does nothing, they barely even scratch his toughened skin as he plays with you, enacting his revenge on the stunt you pulled. You hadn't even considered that the consequences of your actions would have led to spanking and then morphed into this bullshit, but here you were, tossing and turning, trying to get away from Baki's eager hand. He hadn't even started jerking you off, no, he was just rubbing at the head of your cock like he was polishing it off. It was agonizing. You were starting to lose your mind.

It would have been bearable if he'd just moving his hand, but nope, he decided to focus on the most sensitive part to teach you a lesson. And the squeezing the rest of his hand did was just the icing on the cake. You don't know how or when, but the urge to come suddenly came over you. And like mind reader, Baki sneered, speaking in the most condescending tone you've ever heard him use.

"Someone's close. Want me to let you cum?"

Immediately, you nodded your head without hesitation, unable to mutter a word as you bit your lip, tilting your head back against the mattress in an attempt to hold on your sanity. You were oh-so close to sweet release, if he just kept going you could—

"I'm hungry."

The pleasure came to an abrupt stop and his overwhelming presence soon disappeared from the cock, leaving it standing and bobbing in his direction, looking for him to continue. Baki swiped his tongue over the thumb he'd been using to 'polish' you and stood from the bed, yawning as if he'd just woken up from a restful sleep. You nearly cried when the high you had just reached started to dissipate with no sort of release, forcing you to open your eyes and look at him.

You'd looked like you were about to cry again.

Instead of serving you even an ounce of sympathy, Baki stared tiredly down at you, rubbing at the back of his neck as if he was truly shocked. "Somethin' the matter? I thought you wanted me to tease you...? Eh. Sorry." He then turned, walking out of the bedroom to go and fetch himself something to munch on from the kitchen. You laid there in defeat, still trying to process what had just been ripped from you. And when it finally made sense, you yelled his name out of anger.

"BAAAKIII!!!!!!!!"

Maybe next time you won't come between him and Barbie.

[beelmons]

about the love languages blurb thing...🥺 can i pls ask for physical touch with Hotch bebé pretty please? i just feel he's do touch-starve it is difficult for him but when it comes to you... he'd do anything🥺

thank u in advance hermana💖

Anything for you sis! 💖 @cassiemartzz

Physical touch + Quality time (Aaron's love language)

Hotch is one of the people in the team with the strongest attachment to his love language, which means that he struggles to use other love languages to express his feelings. However, something very important about Aaron is that he's always open to listening.

He will have a hard time initiating the touches, but if you're straight forward with him and explain how important it is that he holds your hand in public, runs his arm over your shoulders, kisses your chick every once in a while, he will do his best to please you.

You will have to me patient with him, though, when he's overly stressed or in a bad mood, he might forget about the agreements you have come to, but a gentle reminder, that's not pushy, will go a long way. Don't be scared to start the contact, more often than not he will reciprocate.

If he doesn't, though, don't take it the wrong way. His job requires all of his senses to be active, he can get overwhelmed pretty easily. If he rejected you in a particularly harsh way, let him know, he will never try to make you feel unloved.

Make sure to compensate his efforts with quality time on your side as well, otherwise we might feel like he's the one giving everything in the relationship. Dinner, movies, even bed action, your sole attention should be on him when you're lucky enough to have him around.

Scenario:

You made your way, secure enough, towards the offices of the BAU. Not the first time you had been in that office, even if your marriage to the unit chief was rather recent. Familiar faces, his coworkers and friends with whom you had formed bonds with, welcomed you with hugs and smiles.

Even Garcia was summoned from her lair to provide you with attention, everyone around you simply smiled at your presence. They were all witnesses to the happiness you had brought their boss, and they were forever thankful for that.

"I'm not kidding, I have filed official FBI complaints on Hotch for not bringing you more often." Penelope told you. You took a second glance at JJ just to confirm the statement, and she simply nodded with certain exhaustion. The fact made you break into a loud laugh, the kind of laugh that would resonate throughout the entire office.

The harmonious, and unmistakable, melody snapped Aaron's attention to the window of his office, which was your initial destination until you got held back by a barrier of FBI agents asking about your day. Once he had confirmed you were the source of it, he dropped every pen and paper he had at hand to reach the point where you wer standing.

"Honey," he made his way in between Morgan and Reid to reach you "what are you doing here?" after his words, he took a step forward to give you a gentle hug.

"Hey, babe, I'm just dropping this off." you raised a black gym-style bag "I was doing laundry and noticed you took the old go-back instead of the clean one."

Aaron grabbed the object with a frustrated and slightly embarrassed sigh "I must've forgotten to empty it when I got from my last trip, I'm sorry you had to come all the way here for it."

"Don't worry handsome, I love having an excuse to stop by and have a little chat with this lovely group of people." you said as you gestured to the agents and everyone seemed to blush at your statement.

"Which reminds me, Garcia, take down the current complaint before Strauss actually gets to it." the man glared in the blonde's direction. She muttered a quiet 'yes sir' and lowered her sight.

"Well, as much as I enjoy coming to the serial-killer bat-cave, I actually have to pick up Jack from your Jessica's, you guys have a safe trip." you directed your words at everyone "and, see you when you get back?" the last sentence you directed only to Aaron.

He nodded slightly and took another step forward. His right arm curled around your waist, and his left one dragging your face closer by the base of your neck. His lips smashed into yours in a passionate kiss that lasted around three seconds, which was two seconds too long for an appropriate workplace kiss, by the way. Once he pulled away, his eyes found yours "I love you."

"Love you, too." you barely muttered, still dizzy from the kiss. Without even noticing the rest of the people that stared at the two of you, you turned on your heels to walk back out of the office.

Reality hit Aaron like a truck when he met multiple eyes of flustered subordinates that had just admired the entire R-13 show the two of you had put on.

"Mazeltov." Rossi joked, earning quiet chuckles from the rest.

"Everybody back to work." his tone had gone back to commanding, not the high pitched caring one he wore when you were around. Without glancing at them any further, he moved back to his office to resume his activities.

"On my 30th birthday he gave me a handshake." Reid pointed out disappointedly.

"If you want a kiss, you have to look like that, kid." Morgan mocked, referring to you. The rest of the team laughed the situation off and everyone returned to their duties as ordered.

Aaron couldn't help to beat himself over it for a little bit, but after further inspection, he didn't care. Many things he promised the day you got married, and many he wasn't sure he would be able to hold, but if there was something he had vowed to do without fail, was that he would never leave your side without a kiss goodbye, a proper kiss goodbye.

[asherlookit]

BARBIE SPOILERS BARBIE SPOILERS BARBIE SPOILERS

-

-

okay I wanna talk about why I personally started bawling my eyes out during this movie, cause I've seen some comments about "oh did we watch the same movie" "what barbie did u watch lmao". and don't get me wrong, it was extremely fun and wonderful movie, but what really got me was the whole montage part, with the footage/montage about girlhood. cause the movie obviously has a lot of very straight forward points about western feminism (I assume it's so on the nose for a mix of humour and the fact that the main demographic IS younger kids who would be learning about this kind of thing for the first time) but that scene felt significant to the older part of the audience, cause it's the moment where barbie steps out of the mold shes always been put in to by the people who market her, by the people playing with her etc etc. which is something I think a lot of women and afab people only learn after years of trying to grasp up at the tantalus fig tree of an unrealistic standard we're held to.

women, much like barbie, are pretty much often seen as a product. if companies can cash in on feminism, they'll run a million actors in business suits and football gear to sell what they need to. so off the bat seeing a woman who literally is a product pushed by men learn on her own terms that she doesn't have to hold herself to that unrealistic idea of perfection was really cool.

When she asks Ruth something along the lines of "don't I need your permission?" and Ruth responds "to what? be human?" (I'm paraphrasing cause I've seen it once a couple hours ago) THAT hit especially hard, cause being fem presenting constantly feels like asking for a permission, to take up space, to live, to sit at the table and eat the food we've been told to make, and that moment felt like a very personal message where I was being told specifically that I don't have to be sorry or look for permission to just exist in the space i occupy y'know?

And then for me personally through the lense of being afab non binary, watching that girlhood montage felt very emotional, cause I do still feel a tie to my femininity and the community within women spaces, but I know I cant partake in it fully if I ever want to be comfortable and happy within myself, y'know? so it's like this odd grief? almost? to the small "girl" I used to be, and a little bit of letting go, understanding I don't need permission to exist as I am, even if others have their expectations of me I'm human just like everyone else. it felt like a last apology to someone I've never given it to, which is myself, both younger and present for holding them to sometimes unachievable standards and harsh words.

so yeah I cried like a little baby iwl

[erodasfishtacos]

Is this seat empty? " Yes and this one will be too if you sit down" , "Don't be like that my love."

For MLB!Harry first stupid fight in a relationship 😂

Okay this turned into something entirely different then the prompt. Sorry anon 😂

—

Peace & Quiet (Please)

If you enjoy please like, reblog, comment, or come talk to me!

I write for free so if you enjoy my work please consider donating to my kofi page.

-

“Where d’you put m’protein mix?” Harry asks, padding into the kitchen and opening every single fucking cabinet.

“It’s in the same place it’s been for the past five years,” YN bites out with a slight irritation, mixing the pancake batter a little rougher.

She’s been up since three in the morning and Harry sauntered in around six-thirty after coming home late from a baseball game last night.

All the babies still asleep.

“Ah - fuck,” Her husband huffs when he spills the powder all over the countertop and floor she had just swiffered ten minutes ago.

When he goes to open the other cabinet and grab for a shaker bottle - they all come tumbling out onto the floor in a loud clash.

“Could you be any louder? You going to wake up the kids!” YN scolds harshly, pointing to the closet, “Go get the swiffer.”

He obliges - surprised by her attitude, grabbing it and slapping it (by accident) on the ground like a fucking baseball bat, the head of the mop snapping off and breaking.

“S’broken,” Harry states the obvious, shrugging and going about peeling a banana before leaving the peel near the sink.

YN turns to face him, voice irritated, “I’m about to break you, just like you broke the swiffer.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” He asks cheekily but her glare tells him there is no amusement to be had this morning.

“I just spent all morning cleaning and you’ve made this place a disaster already!” His wife bites before flipping one of the pancakes.

Harry dejectedly cleans up his protein mix mess, neatly places the shake bottles into the right place, throws away the peel, and closes all the cabinets.

“M’sorry,” He murmurs, coming up behind her and kisses the nape of her neck, “Y’seem a bit cranky this mornin’.”

And man. He should have not said that.

“Do you have a baby who needs to fucking feed from your body every hour even during the night? I don’t think so,” She mutters, shaking him off of her.

“Hey, mama. M’bein’ an ass, what can I do to help?” He changes gears, choosing to stand next to her since she didn’t seem to want to be touch.

“Breastfeed - let your nipples feel like their constantly on fire and about to fall off. Make all this post-partum bleeding stop. Let me sleep for a day straight. I don’t know,” YN begins to sniffles, plating a few mini pancakes.

He’s taken aback, eyebrows furrowing in concern, and he leans forward to flip off the stovetop, “Can I touch you?”

She nods, wiping her eyes, and allows him to haul her up into their marble countertop, “Mama, y’need to tell me when y’feeling overwhelmed? Please baby. I’ve asked you a million times to wake me up and I can bottle feed her.”

“No, she…I have to feed her. It helps bonding and it-“

Harry interrupts firmly, “She will be perfectly fine being fed by a bottle a few times a day. You’re putting too much stress on yourself.”

Her head falls on his shoulder and she mumbles, “I just feel so…gross, not attractive at all.”

He pulls her back, searching her face in confusion, “Baby, why would you ever say somethin’ like that?”

YN let’s out a quiet sob, “My nipples are chafed and sore, I’m constantly bleeding, my belly hasn’t deflated -“

Harry can’t help but lean in and connect their lips harshly, he’s pulling her loose shirt up and over her head.

“Harry, what-“

“Listen t’me,” Harry rasps seriously, his hands are tender and careful as they cup her swollen breasts - thumbing at her painful nubs.

“I’m literally obsessed w’your tits, baby. They’ll go back to normal after y’done feeding and even if they don’t - I love them just as fucking much. You fed our three healthy strong boys and now you’re makin’ sure our chunky little girl is eating good.”

Then he hands move to cup her belly, large hands splayed over the still softening, firm bump from where Briar had been housed for nine months.

“Y’gave me four, four fuckin’ babies from this belly. I’m fucking in love with your body. God, y’thighs, y’tummy, the stretchmarks - fuck, getting me hard just lookin’ at you.”

It was true, he was stiffening up in his shorts but neither of them acknowledged it - it was a love boner more than anything else.

He literally got hard from how much he loved her.

“I’m tired,” She sighs softly, letting Harry tug her shirt back on as the children would be waking up soon to eat breakfast.

“I know, mama,” Harry acknowledges softly, giving her another kiss before taking over the pancake station.

-

When all the boys are downstairs and chomping away on their food, Cash, who is just about four decides it’ll be funny to squirt the sticky syrup all over their expensive stool cushions and the floor.

When YN turns from the sink to see the mess, she admits she snaps a little bit, “Really Harry? You’re supposed to be watching them, not checking the sports news on your phone!”

Harry is about to defend himself but his wife is stomping over to where Cash has emptied the bottle and gives him a firm look, “Cash Edward Styles, get your bum upstairs, right now.”

Cash’s eyes widen, his mother rarely needed to use a harsh tone with them, “Mama, I’m so-“

“If you are not upstairs, by the bathtub this instant, you get no outside time today. Do you understand me?” YN tells him, giving Easton a warning look when he licks at the syrup on his finger.

“Yes mama,” Cash squeaks out sadly, abandoning his plate and walking up towards the bathroom upstairs to get clean.

Easton and Ezra are dead silent as they watch their brother leave - not wanting the same fate as him so they sit proper.

“Sweetheart-“ Harry begins, putting his phone back in his pocket.

“No, I have my hands full taking care of four kids. I don’t need you acting like a fifth. Go bathe your son,” YN tells him coldly, an angry stare directed his way.

Harry clenches his jaw, biting his tongue as he stands up and pushes his chair in with force - making a loud noise before following after his second son.

A few minutes after they’re out of sight, Easton thought it’d be funny to wipe syrup down Ezra’s cheek which made Ezra cry and throw a pancake at his older brother - now soaking him in syrup.

YN starts to leak milk at the sound of Ezra’s cries.

“Easton Robin - get you butt upstairs this instant too. You know better - no outside time today,” She informs him as she uses a wet wipe to clean Ezra’s cheek.

“Mama,” Easton whines, fat tears starting roll down his cheeks as he stands up, loitering by the kitchen stool.

“Do not make me repeat myself,” YN warns, swiping a paper towel over the wet spot on her shirt from the leak.

-

Harry had just started washing up Cash who was still melancholy when his blubbering older one comes in - still tearful.

He sighs, looking at his syrupy son, “Wha’ happened?”

Easton looks hesitant, “I put syrup on Ezzie and mama said no outside time today.”

His father is tight-lipped, he can already predict that Easton’s actions upset Ezra, “Alright, c’mon. Let’s clean y’up too. Y’know better, Easton.”

-

Harry had just finished helping both boys dress when YN appears in the doorway with Ezra who has a binkie popped in his mouth.

She steps over and hands their son to Harry before muttering, “I’m going to feed Briar, keep the boys out of the room. I need some peace.”

YN disappears from the room before he can even reply to her.

-

Harry can admit he gets distracted when one of his coaches calls him up for a game change, doesn’t notice when Cash sneaks from the playroom.

It’s less than five minutes later when YN leads Cash gently by the hand back into the playroom, with Briar still latched and feeding.

When she sees Harry on his phone, she’s fucking livid with him.

“Really Harry?” His wife scoffs, guiding Cash to join Easton in where he’s playing with legos.

“I’ll call you back,” Harry replies to his coach before hanging up, “Sorry, it was Donny-“

“Good to know your job is more important than watching your kids,” She spits out before storming back out of the room.

Harry is up and following behind her, jaw clenched and irritated, “Just ‘cause you’re in a pissy mood doesn’t mean that y’say shit like that.”

She turns on her heel, eyes fiery, “You have no god damn consideration. You’ve been swamped this week because of your nike promotion and games. I’ve had the babies all by myself for four nights while you get to gallivant around!”

Harry goes to speak but she puts her free hand up.

“I ask for you to keep our house clean and to let me have one moment of peace with our daughter but you don’t even let me have that! You do not understand how hard it is to push a baby out of you and then have them rely on you to feed them twenty times a day!”

His anger fades when his wife starts sobbing - chest shuddering sobs, “I just had her four weeks ago. I-I haven’t had a break yet. You act like it’s so easy!”

He starts to walk towards her, “Sweetheart-“

YN shakes her head, a desperate plea in her tone, “Please just give me time with Briar.”

Harry swallows harshly and nods - feeling like shit as his wife walks back towards the stairs - all the while still feeding their daughter.

-

“Hello?”

“Mum, I-can you take the boys for the night?” Harry asks quietly, standing in the kitchen while the two older boys are still playing quietly.

Ezra’s passed out, on Harry’s hip with his little face smushed against the cap of his shoulder with parted lips.

“Dear, is everything okay?” She replies cautiously.

“No, I-I don’t know. YN is overwhelmed and I don’t think I’ve been supportive enough,” Harry feels himself begin to sniffle.

Anne doesn’t pry for information which Harry loves about her, she agrees to take them, and states she’ll be over within the hour.

Harry goes about packing their pajamas and other necessities in their little backpacks as the squeal excitedly about going to Nana’s.

“Can we say bye to mama?” Easton asks anxiously as they clear out of their bedrooms.

“Let me go ask,” He murmurs, running a hand through his son’s curls.

When he cracks open the door, YN is sprawled out on her back, fast asleep with Briar also asleep in the bassinet next to the bed.

His heart aches because her shirt is off, and the remnants of her nipple cream which was a pinkish orange color wasn’t fully rubbed in on her bruised breasts.

Harry guides them downstairs, promising that their mama will call them later.

-

After the boys leave, Harry doesn’t know what to do so he cleans whatever he finds that is dirty or messy so she won’t have to.

He does all the laundry in the house, cleans up every single toy, and when Briar starts to whimper - he sneaks in to snatch her up so she doesn’t wake YN.

Then he takes her out to the shops with him to grab groceries, her favorite snacks, and maybe he does stop by a jewelry store and buy her something nice.

(casually a pair of 20k earrings)

YN fell asleep around eighty-thirty in the morning and doesn’t wake up until about nine at night, Harry had put Briar in her nursery about an hour ago.

When she does awake, Harry is sitting in the living room - watching a stupid action movie to pass time and dwell on everything.

She comes in quietly, stands in front of her husband who looks up at her with anxious eyes - she looks brighter now that she’s had adequate sleep.

“Will you hold me?” She rasps quietly, just in one of Harry’s shirts and soft pair of sleep shorts.

“Never haven t’ask, mama,” He murmurs, guiding her until she’s straddling his lap and burying her face into the crook of his neck.

His hands sneak beneath her shirt to massage the sleep-warm skin as he kisses her shoulder - over and over again.

“I’m so sorry,” YN whispers into his skin, voice croaky as she tries to not get upset.

He pulls her back to study her face, “Do not apologize, y’allowed to get mad at me and feel frustrated. You’re emotions are valid. There’s a lot going on and I could be doing more to help.”

YN wipes a tear that trickles down as she laughs in disbelief, “No, you can’t do anymore to help.”

“Wha-? I can, I promis-“

She interrupts his with a kiss before telling him sincerely, “You can’t do anymore help because you’re already doing the most amazing job. As a husband and dad. I was just tired and stressed - it’s not an excuse.”

It warms his heart, he fucking loves her so much it does make sense, has to button their lips together one more time.

“You have a really hard job too, on top of being a husband and dad. You give us all this, support us and take care of us.”

“Are y’kidding me? Y’the one who keeps this family together. Y’the fuckin’ love of my life, you know that? I love you so much, so so much,” He emphasizes, rubbing a thumb across her bottom lip.

The kiss one more time - the anger was subsided and they were okay once again.

Harry laughs and agree when YN murmurs, “S’time for bed again, m’tired.”

“Okay mama, anythin’ for you,” He responds before peppering her in kisses to make her giggle lightly.

[tteokdoroki]

— “LESSON LEARNED.” + KATSUKI BAKUGOU.

author’s note(s): a product of me refusing to study and thinking about nothing but bakugou, so enjoy my beautiful little loves and good luck on exams and deadlines if you have them!!

cw: smut, MDNI 18+, degradation, slight size!kink, clit play, tutor!bakugou + sorority girl!reader.

you never quite expected tutor!bakugou to be so rough, so brash. you had heard that his teaching methods were everything other than traditional— kirishima from the frathouse across the street whining to you about the bruises he’d gotten for simply mistaking one fact for another, but you were desperate. you needed to bring your grades up and you’re sure he could do with the extra credit for tutoring you.

tutor!bakugou is not what you expected, you were sure you’d get a whiny little thing like your ex midoriya, who’d shake in his boots upon seeing a darling little sorority girl like you. but bakugou is big, tattooed arms barely restrained by his tight black t-shirt, glasses low on his nose, ruby eyes darkened with concentration. he barely bats an eyelid when you enter the study room. “get out yer material, you’ve got a lotta shit to cover. s’a miracle you’re even still here.” he grunts when you sit next to him, again, barely batting an eyelid.

are the rumours about tutor!bakugou true? surely someone this good looking can’t t be a virgin, couldn’t have never had a partner or had a one night stand. he looks too sinful to be this good— to be a top student with nothing but pretty grades and a squeaky clean reputation, especially in college. so for an hour or so, you put him to the test with a plan you might come to regret. you whine his name when confused, lean over tutor!bakugou to get a ‘better’ look at the material, slide your hand up his thigh and play dumb— so you seem excited when getting something right.

slowly but surely you chip away at the blonde, watching his resolve break until finally tutor!bakugou snatches your wrist from its ‘innocent’ placement on his inner thigh and he yanks you towards him, sinister snarl etching its way onto handsome features. “try that shit again, ‘n i’ll fuckin’ punish you. got that?” katsuki hisses to you, glasses slipping down his nose and his eyes calculating and cool.

you should have been scared, should have backed down while you still hand the chance— “i don’t know what you mean baku, i just want you to help me,” but instead, you push his glasses up his nose and grin stupidly.

“answer the fuckin question, fuckslut.”

tutor!bakugou’s hot voice above the shell of your ear makes you shiver in his lap, heat flushing through your body at the debauched scene. one thing you can note from this tutoring session, is that katsuki bakugou in fact, isn’t a virgin despite what the rumours say and is more than capable handling dumb little sorority girls like you. you find your back pressed against his chest, molten warmth seeping through your clothes is hands force open your plush thighs and delve into the stickiness that hides between them.

“can’t y’hear me, slut?” katsuki huffs, annoyance rolling in waves through his tone. the yellowed pages of great expectations swim before your very own eyes— tears mounting your waterline and lower lashes as the blonde gives a sharp thrust to ‘wake you the fuck up’. he’s big, everywhere not just in his build that you’d observed earlier. no, tutor!bakugou’s cock sits snugly against your gummy walls while they trap him inside of you—you can feel his tip brushing against your cervix, bulging in your tummy while you squirm, spread across thick, muscled thighs. “s’not a wonder why you’re failing, nothin’ but air up in this pretty little head of yers.”

your cunt flutters, he’s right, you can’t even think straight with the pulse of his shaft against your dripping sex nor with his lips ghosting across the back of your neck and the flex of his muscles while he turns the page of your studying materials. your mouth is too wet, too hot, salivating while you try to calm your lust clouded mind and focus. “ba-kugou,” you mewl, the shift of his hips beneath you to get comfortable, sending you into overdrive. “‘m sorry, i’ll try t-to focus from now on...just please...move...”

tutor!bakugou laughs breathily in your ear— sending butterflies in a frenzy in your lower tummy and your tight pussy clamps down at the melody of a sound. “y’think you’re so funny, honey,” his fingers dance across your shiny, wet thighs and place feather light shapes on your puffy clit, causing you to throw your head back in sensitive ecstasy. katsuki doesn’t like that, freehand roughly gripping your throat to pull you back down to your incomplete work. “you really think i was gonna let you make a move on me without you actually learnin’ a damn thing? now i’ve got you stuffed full on my cock ‘n y’got the nerve to complain about it...’m not the one who wanted to mix work with pleasure.”

“I-i didn’t, i’m sorry—“ your voice is punctuated by wobbly hiccups as you shake your head, fighting the sleepy wave of neediness that pulses through your body since tutor!bakugou has cut off your air supply. he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, skirt flipped up so he can see himself beginning to pump in and out of you— prodding at your g-spot. the hand around your throat tightens and even he knows that you’ll need all the oxygen to your brain you can get to answer this simple question.

“then answer the damn question, it’s not that fuckin’ hard.”

you tremble, thankful for the frosted glass windows of the study room. it is that hard, you can’t think with his thick girth stretching you open and two of his hot digits burning circles into your swollen nub. “i cant, s’too much, please just move—“ the words die in your throat, fading into a squeal when bakugou lands harsh spank against your creamy folds— sending your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“‘m not fuckin’ movin’ in this bitchy, needy fuckin’ cunt until you answer these questions right. dumb sluts don’t get rewards no matter how cute they look split open on my fat cock.” the tone of tutor!bakugou’s voice lowers into an evil growl before his fingers slide up the length of your slit to play with the desperate juices gushing from your hole.

“bakugou—“

“katsuki, sir.” he corrects you quickly, the grip he has on your throat moving up to your cheeks. katsuki squishes them together, forcing the tears to roll freely from your babydoll eyes as he steadies your blurry gaze on the set of work on the desk. “you really must be a stupid bitch if you can’t get this one right, or are my cock and my fingers making you that fuckin’ dumb, princess?”

you nod, not a clear answer in your mind as you wonder how the fuck katsuki bakugou can hold out on you for this long, even when you clench down on him and your honeyed nectar drips between his balls. the whole afternoon is torture, leaving you on edge and the verge of release.

thats your own fault though, guess you should have learned your lesson.

[mimi-ya]

appendage ~ trafalgar law x reader

1,400 words | f!reader | nsfw

masterlist

The prudish blush of his cheeks is amusing.

“Pretty please? With a cherry on top?” You bat your eyelashes.

“(Y/N)-ya. I have to work to do.” Not meeting your stare and instead focusing on the texts in front of him.

It was the same type of excuse he gave every time to your pleading. The med bay needed sterilizing. He needed to check out the boiler. The sub entrance was leaking. There was always something.

“C’mon captain.” You press your body against his side, “I didn’t take you to be such a prude.” The hold on his pencil tightens, flush creeping down his neck, “Can you just do it once, for me?”

Law’s mouth drops when your warm breath tickles his ear, and it feels like you’re about to get the answer you’ve been looking for, but unfortunately a couple of idiots burst into the control room.

“What do you need help with Y/N?” Penguin asks.

“Nothing.” Law snaps.

“Don’t worry, captain! We’ll help if you’re too busy!” Shachi says, a bright smile on his face.

There’s a vein tensing on the side of Law’s neck, “No, you won’t.”

“We don’t mind, really!”

You grin, enjoying Law’s simmering anger, “That’s so sweet of you two, aren’t they just so helpful?” You turn to your captain.

But he doesn’t answer, instead slamming shut his book and storming out.

Law doesn’t come to dinner or leave his room for the rest of the night. It’s nothing new to the rest of the crew, but you wonder if you’ve pushed too far.

Making your way to his room, you knock on the door, and when there’s no answer, you quietly push open the door.

Law’s seated at his desk, fingers tapping against the metal. He seems to be deep in thought, not even moving when you come up behind him and place a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have kept pushing it, especially when you already said no.”

“I’ll do it.”

“What?” Surprise colors your voice.

“I said I’ll do it.” He looks at you over his shoulder, “But I’m in charge.”

You eagerly nod your head, excitement coursing through you. Not even waiting for another word, you jump onto the bed.

“Strip.” He commands, and you oblige, ripping off your jumpsuit and everything underneath until there’s not a stich of clothing left. Law’s eyes roam over your exposed skin, drinking in every curve, stretch, and mark like a man dying of thirst. He palms his cock through the fabric of his pants, relieving the tension building in his stomach.

Chewing on your thumb, you watch as he walks to the corner of the room, picking up Kikoku before turning back to you. He unbuttons his pants, pushing them down far enough just to release his heavy cock, that stands straight to attention.

The room is enveloped in a familiar blue, and with a quick slice, Law holds his dismembered cock in his hand. You jump to your knees, eager to get your hands on it.

Law’s eyes cut to yours, and with a growl asks, “Did I say you could move?” Your hand pauses halfway, and you shake your head with a pout, “Lay back down.”

Falling on your back, Law takes the opportunity to crawl in front of you. With his free hand, he gives a stinging slap to the side of your thigh, and you get the message to let your legs fall open.

He eyes your now exposed cunt, a finger coming up to swirl at the slick pooled, before trailing it up to rub at the little bundle of nerves that has you squirming.

“Law.” You whine, “I thought I was going to be the one playing.”

“Tch. Such a brat.” He snaps his fingers and motions for your hands, placing his most sensitive part in your grasp.

It’s a familiar weight in your hands, but completely different at the same time. You can’t help but immediately bring the cock to your mouth, a quick kiss and tease of the tongue over its slit.

Law exhales a harsh breath through his nose, and pinches the inside of your thigh, “I said I was in charge.”

“And I’m the one with your cock in their hand.” You shoot back, making him aware of the power you have over him, “Now go sit down.” Nodding at the chair across the room.

There’s a brief standoff, holding each other’s gaze, but Law resigns, with a mutter under his breath and finds his seat in the chair. You happily pull yourself up, so your back is leaning against the wall, legs still open so he has a complete view of the show you’re about to put on.

“You can still feel it?” You ask, one hand gripping the base of his cock, while the other thumbs around the top.

He gives a nod, hand gripping the arm of the chair as you rub his cock across your breasts. The tip circling your nipple, leaving behind a smear of precum.

“Huh,” You muse, “Didn’t know that would still happen.” You swipe a finger and bring the slick to your mouth, a familiar taste filling your sense.

Law grunts but doesn’t say anything else.

Trailing further down, you tease the head of his cock at your clit. It’s something he always does to torture you, but you seem to be enjoying it a little more than he is right now. Pleasure thrumming through your body.

Meanwhile, Law is wishing you would speed things up a bit. The slow trail you’ve been taking and the constant grip you have at the base of his cock has beads of sweat forming at his brow, heart palpating, and the lack of control is making him a little on edge.

Sliding his cock through you wet folds you let a moan escape your lips, “So good.” You sigh, as you continue to rub against his flesh.

“Get on with it already.” Law snaps. You crack an eye open and grin at the sight of his bouncing leg and clenched hands. It must be taking a lot out of him to let you be in control like this for so long, and you decide to take pity, hoping that the next time he can endure your teasing a little longer.

“This what you want?” You ask, circling his tip at your entrance, before slowly sliding in. The thickness stretching you out heavenly.

Law falls back against the chair once he’s fully seated inside, hips involuntary thrusting up but his body isn’t given the satisfaction he’s looking for when his cock remains unmoved in you.

You can feel it throbbing inside, probably from desperation for movement. So you slowly pull out, before harshly thrusting it back. It’s a pace you appreciate but know drives Law insane. And the sight before you is so worth it. The little fidgets coming from his body and how he has his eyes screwed shut. A giggle escapes you when he lets a deep moan slip and his hips jerk as you clench around him.

“Something funny, (Y/N)-ya?” He growls.

You just hum in answer, a smile playing on your lips as you concentrate on your own pleasure, finding a nice pace that has the coil in your stomach tightening.

“Touch yourself.” Law gasps, as he struggles to hold back his own climax.

Your free hand sneaks down to your clit, rubbing swift circles as you speed up the hand thrusting his cock in and out of you, pulsating around it when you feel it start to throb with release.

Law squirms in his chair, broken moans of your name falling from his lips, which sends you over the edge, waves of pleasure coursing through you along with the heat of his release filling you up.

The feeling is addicting, and you can’t stop the hand that moves his cock in and out of you, enjoying the aftershocks and craving more.

That is until you feel Law hovering above you, a tight grip on your wrist, “That’s enough.” He chokes out, labored breaths coming from him, accompanied by his heaving chest.

He pulls on your hand, sliding his softening cock out that has you both groaning at the sensation.

You miss the fullness and whine when you see Law reattaching himself before collapsing beside you.

“I can’t hold onto it a little longer?” You pout, curling into his side.

Law grunts, “You’ve had your fun, now just wait till it’s my turn.”

A smirk spreads across your lips, “That better be a promise.”

[lipstickstainz]

true lies - s. r. (11/15)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Series Summary: Spencer is furious, when you rejoin the team after a year and after you left him, when he got arrested. Little does he know, that you leaving him was the only option to ever get him out of prison.

Chapter Summary: you know what's coming - the truth.

Warnings: angst, minor violence

Word Count: 2k

A/N: i listened to my favorite saddest songs while writing. be prepared. thanks for your kind feedback! gif not mine.

Series Masterlist

previous part

JJ snaps you out of your thoughts. There's an expression on her face that you can't find the words for. "Y/N? What does she mean?"

You have to swallow. Your throat is tight and you can barely breathe, so you cling to her to keep from sinking to the floor. You can't take your eyes off the two in the interrogation room.

"What deal?" Spencer sits up straighter than he already does. His whole body is tense.

Cat shakes her head. "I thought you weren't here to talk about her or you."

When Spencer slaps the table with his palm, she doesn't even flinch. You do, the harder, and JJ's hands clench into fists. But you only notice this out of the corner of your eye. "What deal, Cat?" His tone is harsh, leaving no room for Cat's games.

She sighs. "Maybe you should ask her yourself. After all, she did come here with you, didn't she? I don't think she'd skip this dance." Cat looks past Spencer to the one-way mirror, straight through it, as if she knows you'd be standing right there. Her grin is crooked and ugly. "Come on, Y/N. You should know I don't bite. Not without notice, anyway."

You feel JJ's gaze on you as you enter the interrogation room without a word. You close the door behind you and out of the corner of your eye you notice Spencer looking at you. But your gaze is fixed straight on Cat. You stop right at the door.

"It's good to see you again, Y/N."

You don't have to be a mind reader to know what's going on in Spencer's head. It's practically written all over his face. Again?

"Hi, Cat," you reply curtly. You feel like shooting her.

"I always knew you lived dangerously. But I didn't think you were stupid. Yet you were the smartest one on your team. No offense, Spencie." She says it like she's bored out of her mind, not like the whole situation could completely escalate in the next second. Spencer tries not to let on, but you can read the confusion on his face. "I guess I was wrong about that."

"What are you talking about?" you ask, involuntarily taking a step forward. Cat takes it as a sign to keep talking.

"I know you killed my partner in crime. Must have been quite a mess, I'm told. Shot right through the head. Kudos, Y/N. I knew you were smart, but you're also badass. Who would have thought." She raises her hand and inspects her filthy and chewed fingernails. Her gaze drifts to you without her moving her head. She looks at you through her eyelashes, which makes her look crazy. "Quite a pity about him. But he was really just my accomplice's boyfriend. So, not worth mentioning."

Accomplice? Boyfriend?

It only takes a brief moment for everything to come together in your head. Apparently, all emotion falls from your face, because Cat looks extremely pleased. "You didn't play by the rules, Y/N. And now someone else has to pay for it."

In three steps, you've crossed the room and pulled Cat from her chair. Before Spencer can stop you, you push her full force against the nearest wall, causing a gasp to escape her mouth. You press your forearm against her throat and she lets out a hoarse laugh. Her gaze mirrors yours. Fierce and unyielding. The pressure on her throat intensifies and she has to cough.

You feel big hands on your shoulders, yanking you back so that you stagger and bump into the table. For a brief moment, you want to fight back as you leap forward again to put a stop to Cat once and for all, but Spencer extends his arm to allow some distance between you. You don't look at him. Out of anger and out of shame, because this isn't you.

"What's going on here?", he finally asks when you've pulled yourself together a bit and he's sure you won't kill her the next chance you get. "What's she talking about, Y/N?"

Cat's look is challenging and you know full well she's not going to say anything. She's dropped the bomb and now it's up to you to make sure the explosion isn't too devastating. You look at Spencer and tears form in the corners of your eyes. There's no way to get around it. And he better hear it from you than from some crazy psychopath. You owe him that much.

"When you were arrested", you begin, hoping your voice doesn't sound as brittle as it does, "it was clear to me from the start that Scratch couldn't be responsible. When you were taken to Millburn Correctional Facility instead of protective custody, it should have been obvious to the others. It was no accident that they sent you there. It was too personal." You can barely look at him, which is why you stare at the floor. "It couldn't have been Scratch, but there was no one else who had a score to settle with you." Your gaze shifts to Cat, "Except for her.

I had no proof, nothing. But I was one hundred percent sure she had something to do with it. So I talked to Emily. She gave me the day off, and I came here." You suppress the urge to knead your hands, so you shove them into your pants pockets. Your gaze wanders back to the floor, though you'd like to look at Spencer. You want to know what's going on inside him, but you don't dare. "Cat denied having anything to do with it at first, but I didn't believe her. And then she made a deal."

"And that included?" asks Spencer. You have to swallow.

"She would get you out of jail, after all, she put you in there too. I knew you wouldn't make it through jail. And not because you were too weak, but because I knew there were some people there who wouldn't bat an eye to hurt a FBI agent like you. And I couldn't stand that, so I went for it." With each word, your voice grows quieter, though you try to sound as determined as possible. But the pain weighs you down and takes away your breath. You remember the visit then, and what it had cost you.

"And what did she want in return?" Spencer's eyes glisten as if tears have formed in them. He blinks once, and the shine disappears. "What the hell did she want, Y/N?"

You can't stop the tears streaming down your cheeks Your heart is beating fast, like it's about to jump out of your chest. You take a deep breath and brace yourself for what follows. "She - she wanted me to leave you. Cat knew that prison could never hurt you the way I would if I abandoned you. If I left, with no explanation and no goodbye."

Spencer's shoulders sink and his muscles are no longer stretched to breaking point. You don't dare look at him, so you stare at Cat, whose grin has actually widened. Psychopathic sadist.

"Actually, Y/N was never supposed to come back either", she continues the explanation, but Spencer continues to look at you. "That was the deal. You weren't supposed to tell anyone about this and never come back, but you didn't stick to that. You thought if you killed the guy and I continued to be in here, you could go back home and get on with your life." Her grin disappears and suddenly she looks incredibly bitter. "Very reckless, if you ask me. My birdie knows you're back home, and as a warning, she left you a trail of dead married men. Apparently you got the message, after all, you're here. That they are dead is all your fault, Y/N. Because you couldn't stay away from your beloved Spencer." She looks from you to Spencer. "It's tragic, isn't it? She loves you so much that she took on all that pain just so you could get out of jail. How incredibly selfless of her. And I'm pretty sure you weren't exactly kind to her when she returned, were you, Spencie?"

Spencer and you can't look at each other, so heavy is the pain on your shoulders. All the anger, despair, and confusion that had spread through you since you saw each other again gives way to an all-consuming feeling of pressure that you can't shake. The only thing that can give you both some comfort is the clarity that has been created. Spencer now knows what really went on, and you no longer have to keep secrets from him. But the matter is far from over.

You look to Cat, but can't find the words. She's won.

You leave the interrogation room without looking at Spencer or saying another word. What could you have possibly said? JJ looks at you with widened eyes as you rush past her. She has her cell phone to her ear, probably talking to Emily, but calls after you, but you don't stop. The air in the building is stuffy and you feel like you're choking on it. Your heart is racing and you feel sick. You just want to get out.

"Y/N." Spencer's voice forces you to stop. You stop so jerkily that you almost fall. When you turn to face him, he's standing right in front of you. His gaze is hard. He opens his mouth, but he doesn't know exactly what to say either.

"I can't, Spencer", you beat him to it. You want to turn and keep walking, but his hand curls around your arm. At the touch, you're struck by lightning.

"Don't you think we should talk about this?"

You should. Definitely. "She had the men killed because I returned", you whisper. "She killed them because I couldn't take it anymore. Because I wanted to be with you. It's all my fault, Spencer. And I'll take the consequences for that."

"So you're just going to leave? Without explanation and without goodbye?"

You don't want to leave, quite the opposite. You would love to throw yourself into his arms, kiss him and never let go. You want to tell him you love him, but you can't. "I can't stay, Spencer. If I did, she would kill more people. I can't be responsible for that. I'm sorry."

You turn away from him, but as you take a step forward, Spencer pulls you back, making you slam against his chest. Your hands settle on the soft fabric of his shirt as his settle on your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. His expression has changed. There is deep sadness in his eyes and he tries to blink away the tears that have formed in the corners of his eyes, but they fall down his cheekbones. All at once, he looks so young. "Promise me you'll come back? Back to me?" One of his hands clasps both of yours, still resting on his chest. He holds them tightly, afraid of losing you again.

You smile weakly at him and tears come to your eyes too. Your smile is honest, but sad. "I will always come back to you."

- tags -

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[fruitcoops]

You write Moody so well! I would love to see something where Moody and Remus talk for the first time after Coops was outed. Whether it happens after the meeting Coops had with Arthur and Alice or after the all star break. I feel like they have such a good relationship!

Thanks! This was partially inspired by watching The Karate Kid (1984) last night, so I hope y'all are ready for some mentor hurt/ comfort this fine Sunday! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove

TW for mentioned forced outing

Remus was almost done. He only had a few more drawers to clean out. The whiteboards were as squeaky and shiny as the day he arrived; the desk had a few more dents and coffee stains decorating the surface, but overall it looked decent. He still couldn’t bring himself to take the pictures off, though. It was his life. His friends. He just couldn’t do it.

The sleeve of his ancient Wisconsin hoodie was still damp when he smudged it under his runny nose. No tears had fallen, but he could feel the maelstrom gathering in his throat. Everything he had worked for, gone because of one stupid mistake.

Not Sirius, of course. Sirius would never be a mistake. It was Remus’ fault they had been caught in the first place.

He stared around his office in misery—no official notice of his layoff had arrived, but he knew it would come, and it was always better to be prepared. Maybe it would hurt less if he did it himself, one final ‘fuck you’ to the homophobes before he trooped off with his tail between his legs.

The tiles were cold through the seat of his comfiest jeans. He tucked his knees closer to his chest.

A quiet knock at the door interrupted the suffocating silence. He didn’t answer.

“Kid?”

Remus’ lower lip wobbled and he croaked out a ‘come in’ with as much strength as he could muster; it wasn’t much. The door opened with a creak—he had never gotten around to having it fixed, after all—and uneven footsteps shuffled in, followed by a sigh as his visitor settled next to him on the floor.

“You have a chair, you know.”

“I know,” he whispered.

“Not all of us have young knees. Doesn’t your ass hurt?”

Remus nodded.

Moody huffed through his nose and hoisted him up by the arm. “Well Christ, kid, up you come. You’re awfully dense for a beanpole. What, you got concrete for bones or something?”

“No,” Remus mumbled as he followed Moody across the hall and allowed himself to be plonked down in the soft chair by the door. It was his favorite of both their offices; as far as he knew, Moody never let anyone else sit there. His chest seized as a sob tried to fight its way out. “I’m sorry.”

Moody shot him a look at he got comfortable in the adjacent seat. “For what?”

“I dunno.”

“I don’t like useless apologies, Lupin.”

Remus sniffled. “I should’ve told you.”

“Says who?” Moody snorted. “Your business is your business. You’re a bright young man, none of this is your f—oh. Okay, Lupin, easy does it.”

“I’m sorry,” Remus blubbered as the tears finally started to fall. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t like crying, but I’m kind of a wreck right now.”

Moody made a few soft shushing noises, inching closer until he could wrap an arm around Remus’ shoulders and pat his arm like he was trying to soothe a frightened dog. “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

The sobs were near-silent; Remus never cried loudly if he could help it, and he already felt bad enough for dripping his perpetual raincloud all over Moody’s office. He caught his breath after a few hitching inhales and scrubbed at his face with his sleeve. “Are you mad at me?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Remus pulled his knees up again and hugged them tight to his chest. “I haven’t called my parents yet.”

“Did they know?”

His heart gave another painful yank. “Nobody knew. Nobody. And—and now it’s everywhere and people won’t leave me alone and I’m gonna get fired—”

“Woah, deep breaths,” Moody interrupted gently, giving him a little shake. “You’re not getting fired.”

“Yes, I am.” Everything felt gross and cold and sad.

“Who told you that?”

“Coach said it might happen ‘cause I’m a doctor.”

Moody scanned his face for a moment, then reached over and grabbed a box of tissues off his desk. “First of all, take some of these. You look like a mud puddle, Lupin. It’s very unsettling. Second, this is a complicated situation and I wouldn’t be too quick to make assumptions. And third, I’ll go to bat for you.”

He paused midway through blowing his nose. “What?”

“You’re a good man. An excellent PT. The best colleague I’ve ever had, actually. You know your shit and if they try to fire you over this, I’m not going to make it easy for them.”

More tears threatened to fall over the edge of his itchy eyes. “You’d do that for me?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Moody grumbled.

“He hasn’t called.”

“Who?”

“Sirius.” Remus swallowed hard and, before he could second guess himself, leaned his head on Moody’s solid shoulder. “I’ve called him 23 times and he hasn’t answered a single one. He just…left. Didn’t even look at me.”

“He’s making a mistake.”

“I ruined his life.”

“Hey.” Moody’s tone turned stern. “You don’t get to talk shit about yourself in my office. This is a Lupin Appreciation Zone.”

Remus’ shoulders shook and he closed his eyes; he wished he could just dissolve into the floor and stay there until someone mopped him up. Everything hurt. The world sucked. Moody—

Moody was petting his hair.

The tears stopped abruptly and Remus hiccupped in pure confusion. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m bad at comfort, kid, gimme a break.” The sat in silence for a few seconds as Moody continued to pat his head and muss his hair, which was in dire need of a cut but just long enough to cover his eyes when it was pushed forward. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah, actually. How did you…?”

Something akin to embarrassment tinted Moody’s cheeks and he cleared his throat. “My cat hates thunderstorms.”

“Oh. Cool. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Thanks,” Remus said again, much quieter. Moody’s office always felt safe; all the clutter was in its proper place, clean and homey. The touch of familiarity was more of a comfort than he cared to admit. He sat up straight and wiped his face clean, then leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “If I do get fired—”

“You won’t.”

“If I do, I wanted to say thank you for changing my life.” The words hung in the air. “You—without you, I would never have felt at home here. You were the best mentor I could ever ask for and I’m never going to forget that. You did more than just teaching me routines. Thank you.”

Moody cleared his throat again. “Tissues.”

Remus silently passed the box.

“If anyone gives you shit for being gay, you call me and I’ll take care of it,” Moody said once the tissue had disappeared into the depths of his pocket.

Remis blinked at him. “Are you offering to hurt someone for me?”

“I’ll deny it in court.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he laughed. “Fuckin’ hell, this is a mess. I’m a mess.”

“You just got outed and your boyfriend ditched you in an airport,” Moody said bluntly, fixing Remus with a look. “You’re allowed to be a mess. Now go talk to Lily. Call your mom. Do whatever you do that makes you so sunshiney, and then we’re gonna unpack all your shit and put it back where it belongs.”

Remus swallowed hard. Fuck it. Fuck the NHL, fuck the homophobes, and fuck being sad.

Moody narrowed his eyes. “You want to use the kicking bag, don’t you?”

“I really, really do.”

---------------------

“Stupid—fucking—son of a bitch!” Remus gritted out as the beat-up and half-folded gym mat squeaked under his assault. It was two inches of plastic and therapy—he was 90% sure Moody had stolen it from a middle school gym, and it had rapidly become the team’s favorite way of winding down after a frustrating day.

“Harder!” Moody barked behind him.

Remus wound up and slammed his foot into it again. “I worked too damn hard to be kicked out for this bullshit!”

“Damn right you did!”

The kicking bag creased in the center. “And I’ve got too much student debt to walk out of here like—like a coward!”

“Yes, you do!”

His grief had burnt off at least five minutes prior. Remus was well and truly pissed now. “And it’s nobody’s goddamn business who I kiss!”

“That’s the spirit!” Moody cheered.

“And maybe his face is stupidly pretty!” Remus threw his shoulder against the mat before he resumed kicking it. “And, yeah, he has really nice shoulders and a great ass—”

“Lupin—”

“But fuck him for leaving me in an airport! What kind of douchebag does that to a guy? I’m hot and smart and nice and I can date whoever the hell I want if he doesn’t appreciate that!”

“That’s certainly one approach!”

Remus stopped with a harsh exhale and dropped one last halfhearted kick to the base. “I don’t want anyone else, though. And I miss his stupid pretty face.”

A hand, heavy but gentle, squeezed his shoulder. “Then go get him.”

[theodora3022]

Once upon a (fever) Dream

Relationship: Scaramouche x Reader (Gender neutral)

Summary: Scaramouche is unwell with a fever, it's your responsiblity to take care of your superior. Little did you know, overhearing his fever sleep talk would turn your life upside down.

Author's notes: I'm trying to get back into the writing groove! Scaramouche has been on my mind a lot ever since the lore of the pale flame set was datamined. If you are interested in the theory I based my fic on, one of my dear mutuals made this informative post. This is pretty tame and more of a psychological analysis more than a fic tbh.

I will not take any criticism on the theory.

Warnings: SFW, Character study-ish, abundance of internal monologues, use of swear words, hints of speculation on Scaramouche's backstory/identity, power imbalance, possessive and obsessive behaviour, trust issues(??)

"Another day Feelin' like no one really knows me It's okay At least I'm used to being lonely"

-Jake Daniels "The Show"

Scaramouche is having trouble distinguishing the dream realm and the waking world. Tch, this always happens when he falls ill.

Dreams. Stupid, meaningless things he cannot control. Scaramouche is never a fan of them. Sleeping is just a way to recharge one's energy for the following day, so why is this petty factor even a possibility? Memories mixed with random shit. Fever dreams are even worse, because he cannot force himself to wake up, and they might even allow forbidden information to be exposed.

The Balladeer seldom falls ill. But when he does...he needs some subordinates to look after him. Not that he got any other option.

Unpleasant to work with? Talks way too much? Eh, not that he cares. Scaramouche does not see the need to present himself as likeable. Like is a temporary, fragile concept compared to fear.

There was a time in his long life, he thought he was loved...the love he received turned out to be nothing more than one of his past naive self’s delusions in the end. No, it is meaningless in being nostalgic over that.

Damn this Moronic fever, stirring his mind all messy...

Fear is a better alternative, more secure and firm.

"Sir, it's time for your medicine." You knock, hesitating when there is no granting of entry from his end.

This unfortunate task: taking care of the bedridden harbinger has fallen onto you as of late. Being the newest recruit in his sector, of course, your seniors would throw this troublesome work to a rookie like you.

The optimal approach is: Do what you are supposed to do as a subordinate, sprint through the doorway once you complete your tasks. Being in his room longer than needed will only result in harsh insults. That foul mouth does not seem to know any mercy.

"Sir?" You ask again, mentally preparing yourself for the possible scolding before turning the doorknob. Letting yourself in is not a wise idea, however, this is your obligation. Lord Balladeer would be even more upset if you had brought in the medicine at the right time.

"No...Please don't...I promise I'll be-" Is that, sleep talking? Oh archons, why?

Those facial expressions are not pleasant ones. A nightmare, great.

Is there a way to unhear things? You sure wish there is. Scaramouche's life before his service has always been a popular topic of break time gossip among the Fatui. Some say he is of noble birth from that arrogant attitude, some say he comes from a peasant family, there are even absurd speculation about him being a fisherman before. However, his subordinates know better than to gossip in his presence. No rumours were ever confirmed or denied.

Who knows what he would do if the Harbinger catches you "eavesdropping". The mutterings have quiet down now, but you still have paperwork to attend to after this(that he assigned you).

"How much of that did you hear?" Just when you are contemplating whether to poke the sleeping bear or not, that menacing violet gaze has already fixated at you. Did he sleep talk? Scaramouche is uncertain. Still, it is always better to be safe than to be sorry.

At least he’s awake now, no need to wake him anymore. You said to yourself quietly. “Not much, my lord. I will forget everything as soon as possible. Now, time for your medicine.”

That scent makes Scaramouche’s stomach churns. A pot of dark goo and a plate of sugared plums, just like yesterday and the day prior. Wait, wasn’t he-

“How do I know that you don’t go whisper to your friends?”

Efficiency and resilience. Those are the two essential qualities one must possess if one wishes to remain in Scaramouche’s service. He may be a difficult superior, but his sector gets a relatively decent chunk of field missions, therefore it is easier to move up the ranks for new recruits. Who knows when you would get a promotion if you just deal with financial transactions in banks under Pantalone.

Perhaps it is sight of the oh so mighty man in such a fragile state, you are feeling...braver than usual. “My lord, what do I have to gain from gossiping?” Do you focus on unscrewing the cap of the pot, sounding somewhat amused? That unnoticeable curl did not escape his eyes.

When was the last time a recruit dared to look him straight in the eye like this? Scaramouche has no recollection. That immense headache is not helping either. Whatever, what matters now is making sure you do not go slipping off what you heard to others.

After handing the utensils and the pot to your superior, you head outside, prepared to stand in the hallway until he finishes the pot.

“Did I give you permission to leave?”

Aren’t you curious about what he is hiding? Humans love to pry by nature, right? It’s not the first time he had to dispose of those who know too much after all.

“Do you need anything else, my lord?” Of course, he’s not gonna let you off the bat that easily. What were you thinking? Deep breathes, (y/n). It’s not like he is going to electrocute you in this state.

“I wish to keep this head on my shoulders.” In an organization like the Fatui, new recruits are seen as resources that can be disposed of if needed. No one would blink an eye if you were to die of “accidental” death.

“You say that, but your eyes tell a different story.” Since when does he care about what is going in the minds of his subordinates?

“Sir, you can deal with me once you are fully recovered. Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa needs you in top condition as soon as possible.”

Gulping down the thick porridge, the little man then lied down, trying to sleep the fever away. The sensation of the quilt moving almost made him jump, he thought you had left the room already? What do you think you are doing?

Did you pull the quilt up to his chin? It’s not like he needs that cloth, but...this notion.

He’s so adorable when he’s sleeping. You thought as you walked through the door.

Did you just… tuck him in?? That is what’s that called right? Arranging the covers for someone?

You really should know better than treating your superior like some infant. However, that is not a mocking gesture. Scaramouche supposes he’ll let this one slide.

As the door shuts behind you, you hummed a cheerful melody, trying to not think about what would happen once he’s back on his feet. Hopefully, he will let you live on if you try hard enough to prove your usefulness.

You are reckless. You have no idea what you got yourself into.

He just had the perfect way to make sure his secrets remained in safe hands.

Someone else would take care of your current position. What would that leave you? Hmm, a personal assistant would be fitting for someone as caring as you. Personal, somehow he likes the sound of that already. Scaramouche had loathed the idea of having someone tend to his daily life, complete independence is a goal he always strives to achieve. Now...that idea does not seem that horrible after all. Do you even know how to brew tea? You’ll have to learn if not, and quickly too.

His past must remain a secret until the situation calls for it, that much is certain. Unstable variables should be placed under constant surveillance, and Scaramouche can only rely on himself to guard something as important as this.

(A/N: Thank you for reading this character study fic!! Relogs and comments will be greatly appreciated!)

[turtle-steverogers]

steve getting caught in the rain on the way home from work and barging through the front door bangs dripping and cheeks pink and bucky looking up from his spot on the sofa with alpine and thinking i’m fucked

so it's like 1 am and this was going to be something chaotic and smutty but it ended up being a view of steve's pain from the eyes of bucky

oop anway:

In From the Cold

-

From Stevie: Left my key at home. Can you let me in?

Bucky gets the text right before there’s a knock at the front door, and he presses to his feet, shifting Alpine off his lap. It takes a moment to undo all the latches and locks, and by the time he does, Steve has knocked again-- sharper. Frantic. Bucky frowns and opens the door.

“Shit, Steve,” he says, and steps to the side to let Steve in past him.

He’s soaked, straight through to his skin. His hair is plastered to his forehead, clumped and stiff with sleet. His nose and cheeks are bright against his otherwise pale skin, and his lips are a tad blue.

He’s shaking. Hard.

It’s then that Bucky realizes that sleet is coming down outside, the sky blanketed a gloomy grey. The storm had been on the radar, but somehow he’d forgotten about it. Steve, it seemed, had forgotten as well when he’d left for his meeting that morning.

“Yeah,” Steve says, taking off his jacket. His movements are stiff and Bucky reaches out a hand, taking the soaked jacket from him before he can hang it on its hook. “Thanks.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says. “Go ahead and take off the rest of your clothes. I’ll throw them in the wash. Do you want a bath?”

Steve swallows, a shudder running visibly through him and Bucky doesn’t need a psych degree to guess what’s going on. Between the wet and the cold, this is hardly Steve’s preferred state to be in. There’s a vacancy in his eyes that makes Bucky’s blood run cold.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yes. Please.”

-

Bucky’s blood runs cold as a cough wracks Steve’s body, and he instinctively listens for a rattle in his lungs. The cough is not dry, though. Silver linings.

His hair is plastered to his forehead, and Bucky curses, reaching out to usher Steve inside. His clothes are soaked and sticking to his frame, hugging him in a way that seems to accentuate his size. Make him look even smaller. He coughs again.

“Jesus, you got a death wish?” Bucky hisses, hands working to unbutton Steve’s shirt-- get the wet fabric off, because it’s going to make him sick and Steve just got over his last fucking cold.

Steve bats his hand away, leveling him with a glare.

“No, shut up,” he says, and the harshness is dampened by the chattering of his teeth. He unbuttons his own shirt and tosses it aside, the bruises on his collarbone from a work mishap earlier that week stark and purple. Bucky wants to reach out and soothe his fingers over them-- kiss them away.

Instead, he goes to his closet and pulls out a clean shirt and some boxer shorts that will be too big on Steve, but at least they’re warm.

“I thought you were seeing your ma,” Bucky says, handing Steve the clothes. Steve strips naked right there in their hallway. He’s unabashed and it makes the lithe lines of his body all the more beautiful.

“I was,” Steve says. It’s clipped and Bucky’s gut twinges. Sarah had gotten sick a week or so ago-- an awful, wracking cough. Bucky had hoped, fucking prayed that it wasn’t the worst. But Sarah worked in a TB ward, and life didn’t seem so kind to the Rogers family. “They wouldn’t let me in.”

“Shit,” Bucky says.

Steve is dressed now, Bucky’s boxers barely clinging to his hips. He sits down on Bucky’s bed, and Bucky sits, too.

“Yeah,” Steve says, and he’s holding himself so tightly that Bucky’s afraid he might snap.

-

Steve holds himself tightly as he sits on the edge of the tub, his eyes on the rising water level, but mind clearly elsewhere. Bucky watches him for a moment as he returns from the laundry room-- watches his chest heave and hands tremble.

He is naked where he sits, and the way he hunches in on himself makes him look smaller. Bucky’s chest aches and he desperately wishes he could reach out and break the spell-- break the hold Steve’s mind seems to have on him right now. But he knows a thing or two about triggers, and he may not know what happened when Steve crashed that plane-- not details anyhow-- but he knows damn well that Steve still isn’t healed from that particular wound. It will likely follow him to his real grave. The pain. The fear. The damning finality of it.

-

And it seems like a final damnation. One not so beautiful as the perdition that was Steve taking Bucky into his body. But a much starker one. As unforgiving as a son losing his mother can be when he’s already lost his father. Steve says he hadn’t cared much when Joseph finally died-- his own faults pulling him under the current. But there’s a shame there that he can’t seem to quell. Regret that runs in the tightness of his eyes, smoldering and masked by a harshness that doesn’t fit the gentleness that is the skin of Steve Rogers. The soul and bones that are so hurt by a world keen on hurting them.

There’s a grief that wants to rise in Bucky’s own chest. Sarah doesn’t deserve this-- he wishes he could change it. Make it untrue. Make it better.

But he can deal with his own shit later. Right now, Steve is hurting and Bucky needs to coax him out of his shell. Lance some of that pain.

His hair is still dripping from the storm outside and Bucky reaches out, brushes his fingers through the sopping strands. Steve looks at him, eyes hollow and shining-- a strange dichotomy.

“Let me run you a bath?”

-

Steve sinks into the bath water, eyes closed as his chest hitches and stutters. He sinks down until the water covers his chest, stops at his chin. And it would be an endearing sight if he didn’t look so damn troubled.

Bucky hesitates.

“Do you want me here? Or would you rather be alone.”

Please God, he thinks. Please let me in. Let me stay. Let me shoulder some of your pain.

Steve’s jaw shifts, then clenches. He battles with himself, caught between the draw of comfort and his own internal walls telling him to close the gates.

Bucky waits.

“Can you wash my hair?” Steve eventually asks.

Bucky smiles. “Of course, pal.”

-

Bucky takes off his shirt so it won’t get wet and kneels by the edge of the tub. Steve leans back to wet his hair. It seems like instinct more than anything. His hair was already pretty damn wet. Bucky picks up the shampoo-- half empty and a little crusted around the cap-- and squirts some out onto his palm.

Lathering it up, he leans closer.

“Ready?”

“Mhm.”

“Close your eyes, sweetheart.”

Steve closes his eyes and Bucky begins to work the shampoo into his hair, pressing his fingers into his scalp, around his temples. Tension seems to ebb out of Steve in increments and Bucky is hopeful for a moment that he’s leaching out some of the shock.

And he must have taken away the numbness, because then Steve is sobbing, and Bucky is cursing softly as he strips out of the rest of his clothes, climbing into the tub behind Steve. He rinses his hair, and doesn’t bother with soft nothings. Because it isn’t okay. And Steve doesn’t deserve dismissal like that.

Instead, he pulls him close and buries his nose in his hair.

-

With practiced hands, Bucky works his coconut shampoo into Steve’s hair. It’s his favorite even if he won’t admit it and never buys it for himself. That’s alright, though. Bucky doesn’t mind sharing.

He feels Steve’s skin warm up-- rinses his hair with rhythmic and soothing touches, skittering his hands down Steve’s shoulders and across his chest as he goes, aiming to ground him. But Steve is not speaking and he is still shaking.

“Steve?” Bucky prompts gently.

Steve looks at him, gaze darting to his eyes, then his cheek, fixating there. A shudder rolls through him and he goes impossibly more pale.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

“Steve,” Bucky says again, alarmed, and then Steve’s chest is heaving as his breaths start to speed up. “Shit.”

Bucky strips off his clothes, and climbs into the tub with Steve, keeping a hand on him as he sinks into the water.

“Can I hold you?” he asks, and Steve manages a nod. He’s going to hyperventilate if they don’t get a hold of this now. Bucky pulls Steve back against his chest and buries his nose in his hair. “Breathe with me. Just feel me, Steve. Just feel me and breathe.”

Steve does.

-

Steve is worn out by the time they’re settling in bed, and Bucky shifts him so his head is on his chest. They’re quiet for a long time, watching the sun set, shadows moving across the ceiling.

“I’m scared,” Steve says, his voice hoarse from crying.

Bucky tenses. “I know.”

“I don’t want to lose her.”

Bucky closes his eyes, takes a deep breath. “I know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

There isn’t anything for it. Bucky wants to promise that he won’t leave. That he’ll be there, but Steve knows that and reiterating it will only exacerbate the pain of those who can’t be there for him.

“I’m so tired,” Steve whimpers.

-

“I’m so fucking tired of this,” Steve says as he comes down, voice tight and teeth chattering. At least he’s breathing on his own now.

Then rest, Bucky wants to say. Come in from the cold. Let us help. Let people help.

“I know,” he says instead. “I know, honey. But you did so good just now.”

Steve shrugs. “Can we get out?”

“Sure thing.”

They dry off together, and settle into bed, naked still and wrapped up in each other. Steve settles on his chest, head tucked under Bucky’s chin. An age old position-- Steve will always fit right in Bucky’s arms.

-

Steve falls asleep with his hand clinging to Bucky’s. He usually looks more peaceful when he is resting, but now his mouth is turned down-- the lines of his face seem to deepen. He looks much older than he actually is, but Bucky has always sort of thought that. Steve, he thinks, has had to grow up too fast.

There’s a moment where Steve seems to drift awake, eyes opening then shutting again. He makes a soft noise and shifts closer to Bucky.

Bucky holds him and prays he feels held.

-

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bucky asks.

“No,” Steve says. It was worth a shot.

“Okay,” Bucky says. “Can I do anything?”

Steve swallows, arms tightening around Bucky’s middle. “Just hold me?”

“Of course,” Bucky says, and he hitches Steve closer, kisses the top of his head.

“This helps,” Steve whispers, and Bucky holds his breath. “You holding me. It feels safe.”

“I’m so glad,” Bucky says. His throat feels tight and he ducks his head to kiss Steve’s temple. It settles something in him, knowing Steve feels safe in his arms. “I’ll always hold you.”

-

thanks for reading, chiefs!

[babbushka]

Omg “Really? You wanna have sex….here? Now?” and “I may or may not have left some….marks.” has suck biker!Kylo vibes. Love everything you write so I can't wait to see everything you bless us with this May

Anonymous said:  Ohhh, what about Biker gang!Kylo w/ possessiveness, marking and "Suck on my fingers and get them nice and wet for me." I always get so excited for Sinday and all the fabulous writing you create. Ahhhh

2k, NSFW (big dom!Kylo, frottage at the mechanic shop, praise kink, oral fixation, finger sucking, fingering, spit as lube)

It takes him all of two seconds to recognize the look in your eye, when you come walking into his office at the shop for Kylo’s lunch hour. You’ve brought him takeout from his favorite deli, a big hero with all the fixin’s on it, and you’re right on time.

Kylo’s stomach growls, but he’s got a bad feeling that he won’t have much time to eat his lunch, because you’re smiling at him, a pep in your step, eager anticipation written all over your face you sit yourself down on top of his desk, greeting him with a cheeky sing-songy, “Hellooo honey!”

“Really? You wanna have sex….here? Now?” Kylo folds his arms over his chest, looking you up and down, admiring your choice of outfit.

You always knew how to get him good, with your short skirt and low-cut top, covered up and yet revealing at the same time.

He’s going to give you what he wants, because he always will -- but he’s going to make you work for it, just a little.

“Please?” You bat your lashes at him, hope high in your chest.

You’ve been thinking about him all day, have been wanting him ever since he ate you out for breakfast before heading off to work. You weren’t always able to visit him during his lunch hour, but today you tried extra hard to make it happen -- you had gotten a taste of his pleasure and you weren’t finished yet.

Which is why you’re wearing what you’re wearing, hoping it’ll catch his eye and get him in the mood, seeing your tits practically spill out of your top, especially when you arch your back ever so slightly, pushing them out purposefully.

“I’m busy.” Kylo raises a defiant eyebrow, and you bite away a smile, knowing this game all too well.

“Then take a break.” You counter , and he glares, muscles in his jaw working tight.

His eyes rove over your body, stopping at the hem of your skirt. You’ve got your legs crossed, ankles swinging over the edge of his desk, and he can see straight through the little gap that you’re not wearing underwear. Another little move that you hope he’ll appreciate, such a sucker for easy access, you uncross your legs and re-cross them, giving him a flash of your pussy.

“You’re being a real fuckin’ brat right about now, you know.” Kylo’s ears start to turn red, and you grin, because that means he’s getting hard.

“Yeah but you like it.” Reaching out to caress his cheek, you lean forward to ghost a kiss over his mouth and twirl a lock of his hair around your finger, silky and soft from the shower that morning, “Don’t you? You like that I give you a run for your money.”

“Get over here.” He snaps his fingers, and you can barely contain your excitement at the instruction, hopping off the desk and instead sitting sideways on his lap.

Kylo recently renovated the shop during the winter slow season, and now his office was bigger than ever -- and all his own. He used to share it with the general manager, Gwen, which made things considerably more tricky in terms of when he was alone and could fuck you. But Gwen had her own office now, and Kylo’s door is locked, and you moan softly when he taps his blunt nails against your lower lip with a scowl.

"Suck on my fingers and get them nice and wet for me." He orders, a pleased hum rising out of his throat when you open your mouth just wide enough for him to push them past your teeth, rubbing them against your tongue with a deep, “Atta’girl.”

You take your time, savoring the feel of the fingers in your mouth. They’re so big, two of them alone feels like too much, and you have to really keep your jaw open when he forces in a third. He’s wearing all his rings, they leave a metallic sort of taste in your mouth that has you moaning, your hands wrapping around his thick wrist to hold him in place.

Kylo loved watching you suck on him, whether it’s his cock his tongue his fingers, all of it makes his dick throb, and while you lap your tongue over his digits, you can hear the familiar jingling sound of his belt, of his groans. Sighing and whining, your thighs rub together, pussy wet from the anticipation, as he shifts you around to get a better angle.

“Are you gonna fuck me with your cock?” You peer up at him, kissing and drooling all over his fingers and palm, slicking him up. Not that you need it, you’re wet enough as it is, you just like to do what he says, you like when he’s happy that you’ve done a good job.

“Not today sweets, you’ll get my fingers or you don’t get anything at all.” He grunts, pulling his hand away from you, “I’ve got a big meeting today, I have to be sharp. Can’t be all fucked up from coming in this tight cunt.”

The belt must be just for comfort then, and even though it’s a little disappointing, you know he’s got a good reason.

“That’s okay, your fingers are more than enough for me.” You smile, lips swollen and tingling from all their hard work.

Kylo kisses you then, wanting his lips on yours, wanting to taste your spit straight from your mouth. You were chewing gum on your way over, and he can tell, the fruity flavor a reminder that you’re sunshine in a bottle, with the way you’re so good.

Kissing Kylo is one of your favorite pastimes, you could do it all day. There’s only about forty-five minutes left on his break, but you could do it for that whole time if he lets you. Maybe he will, you think, when his soaked hand nudges between your thighs, your own spit smearing on your skin as he pries your legs open.

“Such a good slut you are, look at this, not even wearing any panties.” He smacks your pussy lightly, making you suck in a breath and frown at him, as he continues, “Shouldn’t be going around town like a whore with this short skirt and no panties, someone could see how well fucked my girl is. What were you going to do if I came in you? Walk around with it dripping down your fucking thighs?”

“Yeah, and what about it?” You challenge, grinding your hips down against his palm, your hands clutching at his chest, trying to spread your legs wider as his fingers skim across your folds, not really giving as much pressure as you need.

“You’re so spoiled.” Is all Kylo can manage, before he’s plunging in the first two fingers, pushing them straight up into your cunt, making your grin drop open into the most pretty O.

If Kylo’s fingers felt big in your mouth, they feel huge in your pussy, thrusting up against your walls, stretching you. You don’t even bother to hide how good it feels, your head rolling back, pushing your chest into Kylo’s face, a silent demand that he anchor himself to you while you undulate on his lap.

He takes the hint, and latches his mouth to your cleavage, to the flesh that’s spilling out of your tight shirt. He moves up your neck, suckles there, eyes shutting closed as he focuses on pushing your slick back into your body where it drips onto his palm.

“Mm, Kylo,” You moan, your eyes shut too, savoring the feeling of his thumb on your clit, rubbing harsh circles in tandem with the fingers that crook against your front walls, searching for your gspot. “Another? I can take it, give me another.”

“Bossy.” Kylo grunts against your throat, biting sucking licking at the sweat that starts to bead there as you try your best to rock onto his hand.

You don’t have to respond to that, because he’s shoving that third soaked finger up into you too, stretching you further. It’s not as much as his cock would, but that’s because his cock is fucking huge -- huge and throbbing against his stomach where it’s wedged between your bodies.

“Oh --!” You yelp, when the third finger finally finds the spot that Kylo was searching for, but he quickly grabs your jaw with his other hand that’s been holding the back of your neck steady.

“I’m going to need you to be quiet for me sweets,” Kylo kisses your throat as he warns you, pushing and moving your face from the grip on your jaw he’s got to expose a broad expanse of your neck to him, “There’s shop boys and customers just outside this door, and I don’t want them knowing what we get up to in here.”

“Right there honey, oh fuck that’s good -- sorry sorry, I’ll be quiet.” You apologize around little moans and whimpers, the harsh grip of his hand on your jaw a reminder of just how strong he can be.

Your pussy clenches and throbs around those fingers as they thrust in and out of you, hitting that spot over and over again, fucking you rough and fast because there’s not much time now, not much time at all and you can feel the hot licks of pleasure traveling up your spine, starting to crest when he returns his thumb to your clit.

“I’m coming, fuck fuck -- oh!” You give him virtually no warning, but he doesn’t care, you’re positioned in a way that your come is only going to soak into the fabric of your skirt, it won’t get on his jeans.

Your orgasm hits strong at first, and then settles into something pleasant and warm. Eyeing the clock, you’re glad to see that there’s still ten minutes left on his lunch break, enough of a chance for him to eat something, even as your bones and muscles have turned to jell-o. Kylo’s face has gone red again though, and you quirk a brow at him, tucking some of his hair behind his ears, asking, “What’s the matter?”

“I may or may not have left some….marks.” Your man doesn’t often look sheepish, but he looks like it now, biting on his lip as he surveys the damage that he’s done to your pretty skin.

Fumbling around in your purse that’s sitting on his desk, you find your compact mirror and hold it up, letting out a blissful laugh when you see just how many fucking marks he’s left.

“So much for keeping things discreet.” You roll your eyes, and he only pinches your thigh for the comment, helping to stand you up on your feet without wobbling. You want to offer to jerk him off or something, but there’s no time right now, and the both of you know it. You’ve been enough of a distraction as it is, so you embrace him one final time, kissing him with a happy sigh, “Good luck with your meeting, I’ll see you later?”

“Here, take my jacket. It’ll cover you up.” He pulls the heavy leather riding jacket off of the back of one of the chairs in the office, and bundles you up in it. The arms are a little too long because he’s so tall, and the shoulders are too wide because he’s so broad, but you feel safe and warm inside it.

“Kylo Ren, giving me your jacket? Does this mean we’re goin’ steady?” You tease him, before bolting when he starts chasing after you, thinking that there was no way in hell was he going to get around to having that damn sandwich.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Tagging some Kylo lovin' friends! @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @materialisthicc @lovinghufflepuffgirl @hswritingrecs @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @schopenhauerdeathsquad @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen @metsienmenninkainen @caillea @painttheskylineforme @holding-on-to-starwars @kylo-ren-is-alive @caitlin-was-here

[lizzy-williams]

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭

🐺Warnings: Alpha/Omega dynamic, SMUTTTT, neediness, language, mature themes, dubcon?

🐺Masterlist

🐺Summary: Every Omega knows that going into heat is rough, especially when unclaimed. All eyes are on you. So when it hits you in the middle of a coffee shop with your friends, a particular alpha is very willing to help.  

🐺Theme (All I Need by Radiohead)

🐺A/N: Lol we gonna get dirtttyyyy. By the way, you’re small in his, like body proportion wise, like 5′4 small so there’s that. I know people want the ‘independent strong hardheaded alpha female’, but in this one ur compliant, sorry if ya don’t like it. There will most likely be a part 2 :)

“Y’know, I dunno how you drink that stuff,” Anna-Lynn said from across the table, making [ y / n ] roll her eyes and look up.

“You’re just jealous cause your tastebuds are weak,” she retorted, taking a teasingly long sip of her dark black coffee. 

It was nice having a day out like this. Especially when everyone seemed so busy with preparing for the spookiest holiday of the year. Paper bats and small pumpkins littered the store-fronts of London, the summer weather fading with the light chilly breezes autumn seemingly brought. 

The calm warm light streamed through the window of the coffee shop the three young women were in, the dusk just hitting them. The tree leaves complimented the light as it covered the area in a soft blanket of pink and orange hues. 

“So, um,” [ y / n ]’s other friend, Elizabeth, began to speak, clearing her throat and shooting a daring look at Anna-Lynn, “Have you thought about Ethan at all?”

Ah, yes, Ethan. He was Elizabeth’s younger cousin, just then turning 19, a simple beta with no claimed mate. 

[ y / n ] shook her head, and to this, the two girls let out a defeated huff, “You need to chose someone,” Anna-Lynn’s voice was clipped as she huffed, but it had a hint of concern. Worry even. 

And of course there was a stipulation to one of [ y / n ]’s favorite seasons. Because for her kind, not only was it autumn, but it was also mating season. A dangerous time for any omega unclaimed. If you were unclaimed when the time came around, you were easy pray, and other alphas and betas could smell you much much easier. 

You would become a target. Even more so if you were in heat. 

“I’m not worried about it.” [ y / n ] sighed, nonchalantly, taking a large gulp of her drink before setting it back down. But deep down she truly was.

“We just don’t want you to become like one of those other omegas... you know, getting claimed by someone on the street during their heat... someone they don’t love at all and being forced to have pups, it’s just barbaric.” Elizabeth glanced down at her dwindling hands. 

“I understand that. But I’ve had no issues with this before. I’ll just... lock myself up in my room with a vibrator and some porn. That’s worked before,”

“Bullshit, you were a grump for like a month because you had built up aggression. Ethan’s a good guy. You should really consider it.”

Yes, Ethan was nice. But when it came to [ y / n ]... she just felt as if they weren’t meant for each other. And there was no way that she would consider having pups with him and-

Speak of the mother fucking devil-

It was as if she was hit with a million bricks at once, her body becoming hot, a powerful wave of uncomfortable warmth crashing through her body like a tidal wave, her mouth clamping shut tightly. Her breath hitched, her thighs tightening around nothing, her legs shaking as she felt herself feel as if she were going to throw up. The moisture between her thighs was uncomfortable as she felt her panties stick to her mound.

How could she be so careless? Now she was in heat in public and she knew that nearby alphas and betas had already caught onto the scent, most likely heading their way. She knew it was roughly the time she would go into heat. And it was hell on earth right now, knowing that now that the sun was just now taking it’s last breaths over the tall buildings, the night heightening her kind’s senses acutely. 

Her friends caught on almost immediately, knowing the mannerisms of the heavy breathing and the quivering lips. Her eyes were wide as she bit down on her bottom lip harshly, trying her best to keep her whimpers and whines in the back of her throat. 

Thoughts raced through the young woman’s mind. Thoughts of her being taken in the most delicious ways possible by any man that just so happened to look her way. And her friends could tell that there were already at least a few alphas coming in hot, the sudden howling through the now darkened air making the 2 other girls’ senses hyperactive. 

What was ironic was that there was a conversation going on between two baristas behind the counter, “The dogs are at it again, they’ve been a lot noisier than usual.”

“We need to get her home, right now.” Anna-Lynn commanded, Elizabeth giving a chaste nod before flipping through her phone as a poor, squirming, [ y / n ] sat right across from them, panting in her intense discomfort. 

She shut her eyes tightly, desperately trying to ignore the ache in her core. She wanted, no, needed to be filled up. To be claimed. But the thoughts only drove her down deeper, desperation seemingly seeping out of every pore. 

As soon as she was called an Uber, it was an agonizing amount of time before it finally came to a stop, the driver flashing concerned looks at the poor squirming girl in her back seat. Throughout the whole ride, it took everything for [ y / n ] not to touch herself, and all she could do was shift her thighs together, and thankfully, (soon enough), the car came to a stop. 

[ y / n ] let out a strangled ‘thank you’ to the driver before getting out, and after the woman drove off, she found herself stumbling into an alleyway. Her whole body was on fire and she needed release, any release. 

Her back violently hit the brick wall of a darkened alleyway, her loud and labored breaths echoing through the seemingly empty face. She needed tension. At least a little bit. 

As if her legs weren’t her own, [ y / n ] spread her legs only a small amount, just enough to slip her hand under her pants and softly drifting her fingertips over her clothed clit. 

A smooth and controlled rubs soon turned into harsh and fast circles, her needful thoughts forcing her mind to tune out the howling that was getting closer and closer to her. It wasn’t until a low and terrifying growl resonated through the hollow space, making her stop in her tracks, yanking her hand out of its position, doing her best to stand up and steady herself. 

But it was far too late, because by the time she finally started bolting towards the opening in the cold alleyway, her body was caught and thrown against the frigid brick, a pitiful yelp leaving her lips, unleashed tears forming in her eyes. 

“You smell fucking delicious,” a dark voice spoke, no doubt an alpha, and [ y / n ] wouldn’t dare look up and meet his eyes. 

“P-Please, I c-can’t-”

[ y / n ] didn’t even know why she was saying please, for there were so many reasons she could be saying it. 

Please don’t.

Please help the pain.

Please touch me.

Please don’t touch me.

Please.

But the young woman’s thoughts were cut short by a violent tug to her hair, forcing her gaze on the person in from of her. He had bright red hair, freckles apparent, even in the dull light of the closed off space. He wore a jet black hoodie, and that was all that [ y / n ] bothered to take in. 

“You’re a pretty one...” his words rattled through her mind, muffled by the sharp ringing in her heat from the sudden contact to the wall only moments earlier, “Glad I claimed you before anyone else could,” he paused to chuckle to himself, “Would hate to touch damaged goods.”

[ y / n ] whimpered and almost recoiled away, but she knew better. This alpha seemed ill-tempered, and she didn’t want to find out what would happen if she dared to disobey. 

He gave a rough tug to her hair, standing her up, and immediately started to kiss her neck in hopes of warming her up a little bit more, not that she needed it, but nonetheless, his lips continued their assault on the young woman’s neck, whimpers and whines escaping her lips. 

“Just one little thing, pretty girl, you’re unclaimed, I can smell it on you.” he spoke before leaving a long, sinful lick up her throat, “I’m going to bite this pretty little neck and make sure that nobody else is going to touch what’s mine.”

The girl’s body shivered violently. He was talking about a claim mark. If that happened, she could never escape him, it was a tracking device. Where ever she decided to go, he would know exactly where she was. 

“Please, don’t, I-”

But a violent growl made her blood run cold and her words pause half-way up her throat. But it wasn’t from her captor. His head was already snapped towards the source of the sound, which was at the opening of the alleyway, the minimal light caused by the streetlight exposing a clothed figure with its hands in its pockets. They weren’t tall but they weren’t short, but their stature was confident. 

Great. Another alpha.

“Drop her.” the voice spoke, straight to the point and commanding. 

“Fuck off, she’s mine, I got to her first.” the ginger male snapped, his eyes now a vibrant scorching gold, shining in the darkness. 

“Drop the fucking girl or I’ll rip you’re fucking head off.” this time it was a vicious growl, strong and unwavering that sent goosebumps down [ y / n ]’s spine. 

“That a challenge, pint-size?” the ginger taunted, referring to the other alpha who only stood at a good 5′8, while he stood at a large 6′1, slamming the girl onto the ground making her yelp out in pain.

Finally, the young alpha stepped into some form of light, making his face visible, and the ginger’s expression of defense faded into a face of fear and regret, the eyes that once glowed yellow dying down to it’s original color. 

“T-Tom, Jesus, man, excuse me, I didn’t-”

The alpha, apparently named Tom, harshly grabbed the ginger’s shirt, pulling him in and looking up at him with deadly eyes, “Leave.”

And just like that, he was gone, and hopefully never going to be seen again. 

Tom’s expression turned soft when he saw the poor writhing omega in a mound on the hard concrete of the ground, small whimpers of discomfort making his chest clench. 

“You live here?” he questioned, motioning to the building she was now leaned against. 

All she could to was let out a whine of confirmation, nodding her head slowly as she clamped her thighs together as tightly as possible. 

“Come on then, can’t have you out in the open, there’s already talk, let’s get you inside,” he said, kindness and understanding in his tone, holding out a hand to [ y / n ], who in turn took it almost immediately. 

It took her a second to walk, her knees weak, not to mention it was hard not to notice Tom’s muscles, and his face. God, he was truly attractive. 

She let her mind wonder as they began to walk, his arm firmly around her waist, trying to keep her steady. She wondered what it would look like when he came, filling her up to the brim, making her full, a thin blanket of sweat covering his body, his eyes glowing, hungry, and she let out a whimper at it. 

“You’re staring.” Tom smirked as they stepped into the elevator of the complex. 

“S-Sorry,” she muttered, trying to shake the embarrassingly dirty thoughts from her mind as she continued to try and focus on just getting to her apartment. 

The sooner she got there, the sooner she had her vibrator, the sooner she had release. She was convinced, at least, that that would solve her problems, at least temporarily. 

She led him to her apartment, still holding onto him for dear life as her core throbbed with need and want. When the door unlocked with a small click, she turned the doorknob, almost collapsing through the doorway. 

“Do you need any help?”

This could have meant many things. But of course, [ y / n ] was oblivious in her response. 

“N-No, I think I can manage to put myself to bed.”

Tom gave a small chuckle as he sat her down on the couch, sitting next to her as she slouched back, “No, I mean I can help with your problem... that is, if you want me to,”

[ y / n ]’s mind was clouded in a haze of neediness, so with no hesitation, she whimpered a small yes, before immediately unbuttoning her jeans and slipping them down a little bit to eagerly. 

She knew this was happening to quick, almost irrationally quick, but the need in her pounding cunt was much more important to her at the moment than her petty morals and reason. 

“Are you sure?” he looked at her with sincerity, watching as she shifted out of her pants and took his hand, placing it on her covered mound. 

“Please, just touch me, Tom,”

Hearing his name on her lips was almost enough to make him lose his control and say ‘fuck it’, but he figured that if her were to do this, he might as well try to do this right. 

“Don’t have to tell me twice, darling,” he muttered, easily finding her sensitive bud, even through the material of her panties.

She let out a soft and breathy moan, taking her hand of his own and moving it to his bicep, squeezing, as if it were anchoring her down to Earth, because she had never been touched like this, especially by someone else. 

As if Tom had read her mind, he looked up at her, drinking in her reactions before speaking, “Are you a virgin?”

She nodded her head, his pace never faltering. 

“I’ve been waiting- ugnh - for the right person... I trust you,” she managed to get out between moans.

“You barely know me,”

“But I want to. There’s - ah, fuck - something about you. I l-like you,” she admitted, the filter between her mouth and her brain nonexistent as she felt nothing but pleasure and a release from the uncomfortable pressure she was feeling only moments before. 

“Fuck,” to Tom, it was nice to hear that somebody needed him, trusted him, especially with something like this, so sacred and meaningful. She was giving him the gift that could only be given once, and he was happy to receive. 

After a few moments of him rubbing her in all the right ways, he hesitantly pulled his hand away from her, hating the noise of protest that she released. 

“Come on, princess, let’s take this to you're bedroom, yeah?”

[ y / n ] was compliant to his suggestion, standing up best she could without Tom’s help, but soon leaning on him as she directed him to her bedroom door. 

The door was busted open, and she was thrown onto the bed, and as soon as she hit the mattress, she stripped off everything else, leaving her completely nude, and her actions inspired Tom to do the same. 

He quickly got on top of her, grinding the length of his cock against her soaking wet folds, making him growl. 

“Fuck, darling, I’m not even inside you yet and you feel heavenly-” he hissed, the little omega nodding in response. 

“Alpha, please, I need you inside me, I want you to fill me,” she desperately pleaded. 

Tom let out a feral snarl at the use of the word ‘alpha’, surprised it had so much of an effect on him being used like this. It was so fucking hot. She had him wrapped so tightly around her pinky and didn’t even know it. 

“Anything for you, darling,” he muttered, lining himself up and ever so slowly easing himself inside his new mate, a pained whimper escaping her, his cock seemingly splitting her in half. 

Tom finally remembered that she was a virgin. And that made him even harder inside her. He waited for him, for her mate, while he was out fucking every omega that crossed him. But with her, she wasn’t just an omega. And he wanted to prove it to her. 

He took his time, almost cockwarming, staying still inside of her as her body naturally adjusted to his size, feeling so close to each other, it was enough for the two of them to almost fall in love right then and there. Tom finally took in how perfect she was to him. Someone he knew he wanted to keep around in the long run. Someone he knew he wanted to protect, even when she didn’t need protection. 

[ y / n ] scratched up his back, signaling that she was ready, and confident that he could move with little to no discomfort from her. 

The alpha started to move his hips, her tight cunt making his eyes roll back in his skull as he dropped his head into the crook of her neck, leaving soft and reassuring kisses to her neck as she made the most delectable noises, making him addicted, almost like his own brand of opioid. 

“So fucking tight, princess, you feel like fucking paradise,” he praised as he drank up the omega’s reactions as she experienced her first time with him. 

She’s like this for me and only me.

Her face was scrunched adorably in pleasure, her eyes shut tight as she felt the moment, his skin under her finger tips, the burning that was set in her core easing as she finally had pleasurable relief. Like getting a refreshing drink on a particularly hot day. 

Tom couldn’t help himself, and as if his body wasn’t his own, primal instinct took over as he began to make his strides harder and quicker, making the most pathetically cute noises release from her mouth. 

“You like that, darling?” he panted licking and sucking her neck, making one of her tiny hands weaving itself though his chestnut curls, “Why did I bother asking, of course you do. You love it when your alpha fucks you.”

All she could do was nod her head as she felt a coil inside her tighten. Tom felt his cock inflate as he continued to drive into her, pounding her into the mattress as he growled praises into her neck, her moans and whimpers never stopping. 

Soon the praise turned into a single word, falling out of his mouth like a prayer, even though what they were doing was the farthest thing from holy. 

Mine. Mine. Mine.

The omega could take it anymore, whimpering out, “P-Please, I... want you to b-bite me. Please, I need you to claim me,” she begged, which made his assault on her cunt falter slightly, slowing down to a calm and intimate pace. 

He knew what that meant. When an alpha bites an omega, she’s claimed. It means that nobody can touch her. Almost like an unbroken bond between two of their kind, and it meant a lot. 

And though they had just met only a half an hour prior, he knew that she was special, and he knew that this was who he was meant to be with, and his heart swelled at the thought of getting to know her inside and out. A true connection. 

“You want me to claim you, huh?” he paused his movements, [ y / n ] nodding frantically, wanting more than anything, “I’m not going to go easy on you. I want you to feel nothing but you inside me while I claim you, nothing but rapture as I claim you as mine.”

[ y / n ] nodded once again, to while Tom protested, “Words, darling,” 

“Yes, alpha, I understand, I- OH FUCK-,” she yelled out. And she thought he was going hard before, but that was nothing compared to the pleasure she was now presented with, his cock properly railing into her as he left a long and sinful lick up her neck before taking a bite, his eyes glowing a bright fluorescent gold as she let out one of the most pornographic moans she had ever heard. 

The copper taste in his mouth tasted like candy, and home, the sweet substance covering his lips as he finally pulled back, knowing that she was close. 

And close she was. She was so close to release she could almost taste it, and god did it taste good. Without warning, the coil inside her snapped, making her vision cloud, her thoughts unable to collect themselves as her vision clouded, and she swore she blacked out for a second. 

She was so overcome with pleasure, she didn’t notice that he had cum himself, the sensation of him pulling out and his cum spill out of her enough to get her riled up enough. But if what just happened didn’t vanquish the heat she was experiencing before, God only knew what would. 

Tom stepped back, taking in the sight of his new mate, completely fucked out and covered with marks, his cum dripping out of her like a faucet. He wished for this image to be branded into his mind so he could see it every time he closed his eyes. 

“Absolutely stunning.” he praised, his hands now running up and down her thighs. 

[ y / n ] was finally Tom’s, inside and out, and Tom couldn’t be more proud. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, love, yeah?”

The morning was soft and filled with nothing but admiration to each other, the two staying in bed most of the morning until they finally went to the omega’s kitchen to make breakfast/lunch.

[ y / n ] was cooking the bacon and eggs when she suddenly felt arms wrap around her from behind, a chin resting on her shoulder. 

“How’re you holding up?” he questioned, and it make [ y / n ] blush at how considerate she was about her state, his fingertips dragging lightly over the violent-looking bite mark on her neck.

“I’m absolutely perfect,” she smiled, “Feels nice to belong to someone.”

“You know what? I was thinking the exact same thing.”

And for once, the two of them were truly excited for the future. 

[lazarettta]

Misthios III

Characters (Mother Miranda, Alcina Dimitrescu, Reader)

Word count (2k)

Rating (T)

Warning (straight zooted, none)

Countess Dimitrescu takes you home.

Any mistakes you find, blame it on the herbs.

Only taking a few steps from your holding cell, you were startled with what awaited you.

You weren't sure what to expect when you were about to meet Lady Dimitrescu but what you got wasn't on the top of your list; her inhuman beauty or her height. She was taller than tall and for a split second you actually gawked at the woman before remembering yourself and thankfully your jaw snapped shut inaudibly but she'd already caught you.

“This is (Y/n), take her to your castle and keep her there until I call.” You frowned at her words, you weren't some goddamn pet to keep and she had another thing coming if she thought that you were just going to sit around twiddling your thumbs. Miranda stopped next to the tall woman near the door and a small torch light, “Not a scratch, Alcina.”

“Of course, Mother Miranda.” She seemed amused and she clearly wasn't as human as she portrayed herself to be. You'd place a bet wagering that she is one of the myths you haven't yet tracked down...but which one?

Miranda didn't spare you another glance and she was gone within a blink of an eye, leaving you two alone, you cleared your throat bringing the woman's honey eyes to you again. “But you will refer to me as lady Dimitrescu.”

Keeping up with Alcina's long strides down the dreary pathway wasn't an easy feature especially given that the hallway itself was narrow and you didn't really have any interest in touching the walls. They were wet but it did not look or smell like water. Eventually the woman came to a stop, right in front of an iron door that turned out to be an elevator shaft—a bit like the ones used when mining was still a thing.

Prison cells in some abandoned underground mining tunnels, Miranda? Always so dark and mysterious...

The silence between you both was thick and a bit awkward and you could feel her caution and curiosity rolling off of her in waves and you knew that she was occasionally glancing at you because you were doing the same thing while you both waited for the elevator shaft to come down. This place just continued to get more and more curious—what other wonders was this village in the mountains hiding away from the rest of the world? But you were quick to chastise yourself for the thought, curiosity always killed the cat, (Y/n)...

“Yes,” her voice was low and deep this time opposed to the thunderous tone she was using earlier, “but satisfaction brought it back.”

You hadn't been aware that you spoke out loud. Having allowed yourself to be distracted with your thoughts that you failed to take notice of how much more observant the other woman became towards you the minute you both loaded onto the old shaft. Though the old thing hardly made a sound under lady Dimitrescu's weight despite the fact that in order to enter she had to duck a little for herself and her large brimmed hat.

Shoving your hands in your pocket, you turned slightly to look up at her making sure to keep your eyes above those pearls wrapped around her pale neck and accenting that decolletage—no doubt purposely done. “Ah, I haven't had that recited back to me in a very long time.”’

“Then you’re not keeping the right company.”

Your mouth twitched around a smile before you schooled it away, “That would be true if I actually had any friends...or family.”

Lady Dimitrescu raised an eyebrow, not that you’d see it because of her hat casting a shadow over a majority of her face, “Handsome thing like you without friends or family? Doubtful. Surely you have someone waiting for you? You seem like the type to have a maiden or two at your feet.”

This time you couldn’t push back your smile, you knew that she was fishing for some answers about your character—and no doubt trying to figure out why Miranda thought you were special enough to be placed under her word of protection, as if you actually needed it.

But that was all fine because you’d do the same thing, in fact you already were but you’d give her something—an inevitable piece of information that will come to light soon enough. She was already suspicious so it really was just a matter of you beating her to the punchline.

“Nope, none of the above. People just have this pesky little habit of dying on me.”

She chuckled, low and deep and you felt it a bit (and fuck was this the longest elevator ride you’ve ever been on), “Oh I know of that nuisance all too well myself.”

“Do you now?”

“Oh quite dear.” There was a bit of a sinister flare to her tone behind that innocent smile and shrug she tried to sell you. “One could even say it's my favorite pastime.”

And right as you were about to press another question the shaft came to a screeching halt, oh…how convenient. You swore you saw Lady Dimitrescu outright grinning before she ducked out ahead of you, if you didn’t know better you’d say she read your mind.

The moment you stepped out of the shaft and through the opening of the alcove, you were severely unprepared for the harsh winter wind or how well into the evening it’s become and the conversation earlier was placed on the backburner.

Less than two hundred feet away there was a stagecoach waiting with four black horses attached. The stagecoach was all black with gold trimmings, a style fit for royalty—you’ve seen enough of them in your lifetime to know.

There was a young man half frozen next to it as he waited for Lady Dimitrescu’s approach, nearly stuttering out all of his teeth to greet her but she hardly paid him any attention, gracefully ducking inside. The young man gawked at you as you entered the coach behind his employer but was quick to close the door after you.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, the tips of your ears heating up when you had to brush past her crossed legs to sit on the bench across from her and she made no effort to move, only watching you while smoking from her cigarette stick.

The stagecoach had a bigger interior than the exterior let on, accommodating the dark haired beauty perfectly. Though she was sitting at a sideways angle she seemed very comfortable and she was easily dumping the ashes outside of the cracked window.

“Is there anyway to get my things back…it had a majority of my clothes in there.” Or get back to your camp—it was probably ruined by now, either by wild animals or nature itself.

“We will accommodate you at the castle.” Her gaze was on you again but you were busy looking out of the window down at the village, now that it was nightfall everyone had their lights on—it was bigger than what you expected. “I don’t suppose you like dresses?”

~~

As you suspected, the inside of her castle was just as massive and beautiful in it's antiquity as it was on the outside. The estate was kept in pristine condition and you were honestly impressed with what you saw. But it was really warm though not uncomfortably so. You two had barely stepped into the lobby of her castle with you mostly admiring how easily she was able to bend at the waist without batting an eye to get through a door that wasn't custom sized for her. She seemed used to it but you wondered why she didn't correct the doors.

“Hmm. Nice castle but why is it so warm? I might have to sleep with a window open.” you joked, still taking in everything and you had yet to notice how your words affected your host.

She stopped dead in her tracks and turned on you so fast you actually did run into the taller woman. Your entire face was lost in a world of firm fluffiness and your senses were filled with the very essence of Lady Dimitrescu. Though before you could scramble away with an apology on the tip of your tongue, Lady Dimitrescu was moving before you and she had reached down and she fisted the back of your parka and kept you right where you were, close and trapped.

You were forced to look up at her between her bust, or let them suffocate you, and she was already looking down at you with a hard look but you had no idea what the hell you did.

“You open a window in my castle and you won't be sleeping at all, guest to Mother Miranda be damned.” she snarled, her tone steely and you had no choice but to listen—even if she didn’t have you in a death grip, “The windows are off limits. Do not open them. Do not touch them. Are we clear?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, still struggling against her unyielding hold and against your rising temper, “What the—”

“Do you understand?” she tightened her grip on the back of your clothing, forcing the collar of every layer you wore to constrict around your throat at an alarming fast rate.

“Understood.” you gritted, your blunt nails digging her soft flesh beneath your hands that was her stomach but you doubted that your nails were as deadly as hers. You didn't bother to tell her that it was a joke and you were quick to straighten yourself out as you caught your balance when she released you with a bit of a pull against your parka forcing you away from her. You cursed her in your native tongue but her attentions were now focused on something to your left—no, on someone.

“Ah, good! Servant, come here,” a young girl no older than twenty quickly came over, bowing her head awkwardly.

“Y-yes Lady Dimitrescu, how may I serve—”

Alcina cut in quickly as if she had better things to do, and she did, “You're not serving me tonight, girl. This (Y/n). She will be staying in the guest room to the left of the wine room and you will be tending to her every need for the duration of her stay, and I do mean her every need.” though her tone was cheerful there was an undertone of a threat if her instructions went under-performed. Alcina winked at you as she hadn't almost choked you out in the middle of her foyer.

“Yes ma'am, I understand.”

The maiden nearly nodded her head from her shoulders. She was so terrified. If you were blind you would've assumed it was her first day, but a good portion of you knew that it was something else—you remembered quite well how Miranda preferred to run her own kingdom and you weren't surprised that this woman had similar tastes.

“Keep your pleasantries. Just show me to my room and leave me before I really lose my fucking temper.” you snarled at both of them, namely the Lady of the castle. You were able to physically restrain yourself from starting a brawl with this woman but your mouth has almost always gotten you into more than half the situations that left marks all over your body.

Lady Dimitrescu looked back to you, tilting her head back slightly as if she was just finally taking notice of how hard you were glaring at her. She did not know why as it could've been for a number of things that have happened within the last five minutes.

Alcina's eyes shifted from you to the trembling maiden between the two of you, then back to you again, “Are we going to have an issue, (Y/n)?” and clearly misunderstanding the reason for your ire.

You scoffed knowing when to pick your battles and how she handles her staff was not one of them. But how she handled you was, “Manhandle me again and we will.”

The maiden gasped at your audacity and flinched sharply when Alcina chuckled while setting her hand on her hip. She found more and more curious and she was starting to see why Miranda liked you so much before. There was a spirit that burned inside of you—strong and rattling in its cage, she could see it in your eyes even as you restrained yourself.

The maiden opened her eyes when she didn't feel the whoosh of Lady Dimitrescu slapping you through the wall, she was surprised to see you still standing there alive. The maiden looked at you in awe before bowing her head, “P-please follow me, ma'am.”

Alcina still stood there with her hand on her hip and another one of her cigarettes was lit, watching you follow the little maiden through one of the side doors when a familiar buzzing made itself known until Bela was standing next to her, snuggled close as she wiped the blood from her mouth with the sleeve of her black shift. It needed to be washed anyway.

“Mother, who is that? Another meal?”

“No,” Alcina answered softly, reaching down with her free hand to push back Bela's hood so she could comb out a few tangles in her eldest daughter's blonde hair, “But she is very interesting, isn't she?”

“Yes, but who is she?” Bela asked again, this time looking up at Alcina.

“Perhaps a friend, or foe, that has yet to reveal itself. But for now, go and collect your sisters dear and meet me in my study...I wish to talk to them about something more pressing.”

Bela was gone in an instant, the synchronized buzzing of dozens of blowflies disappearing quickly leaving Alcina alone with her thoughts.

Here is a link to the Ao3 version of this story...if it's easier than tumblr...