#i haven't been this angry and distressed in so long

[iznsfw]

Like a Feather From a Swan’s Broken Wing

LE SSERAFIM's Nakamura Kazuha x Male Reader Smut

7,468 words

Categories | agent!You, ballerina!Kazuha, cunnilingus, daddy kink, spanking, fingering, slight bondage

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This is a commission in which I was given the task to write literally anything I wanted (thank you!)

“The art of pleasing is the art of deception.”

— Luc de Clapiers

-

The gun’s in a steady direction, only looking forward. It’s aimed at the dark, at wherever the partners of the man you’ve been hunting for months might hide. On the darker side, you wish that if there would be anyone coming out, it would be the man himself so you'd be able to shoot him. He's the source of more headaches than you could count and the one who keeps you up late at night, and never for a good reason.

It's the selfish part of you speaking. You shouldn't let that interfere with the operation. 

You're in uniform, wrapped head to toe in camouflage green. It feels heavy on your skin, but that doesn't stop your determination. You'll carry the weight of your uniform before you carry the burden that is him, who prolongs the operation, leaves your coffee powder short, and keeps the nation in distress.

Today, you'll catch him, once and for all.

Look around briefly. The night covers you completely, and hopefully doesn't cover the enemy, too. You only take a flashed look; quickness is a skill you once were unlearned in but developed later into the senior years of your profession.

Physical strength is another—the door meets the ground with a harsh thud after you kick it down. Training isn't easy by any means, but it's worth it. Hopefully this mission is the same as well.

Teamwork is a skill you learned, too, for like a flock of crows, you and the squad enter the warehouse. Altogether, they're shouting. They call for the victim (add an "s" for plural form, if necessary), telling her she's okay. Everything's going to be alright, they say, no need to worry.

However, they promise a much bloodier end for the kidnapper, who's probably lurking in the shadows.

"Come out now!" Yunjin shouts. She's frightening when she's angry; her brows are downturned and her fierce eyes are locked onto any movement. Hands on her gun, she's always prepared. "We're not going to ask again!"

"Scan the whole place," Sakura, your leader and chief, commands the rest of your team. The hate for the man glistens in her eyes; for her fierce predator looks, the team often dubs her as the cat of your group. "Don't leave one stone unturned."

The cramped warehouse is emptied out by the sounds of boots on the stairs. You take over the mission half and half: you, Sakura, and Yunjin on the first floor and Chaewon, Wonyoung, and Minju on the second. 

Your half of the team knocks over the boxes. They spill out packing peanuts and hints of drugs packed in Ziploc bags. Doors fly open and welcome you into empty darkness. Above you, you hear the newer ones in the squad yelling. It's an amateur habit, but maybe it would work. Maybe it would finally draw the criminals out to justice, and all of this would be over.

But, of course, when they run down the stairs with faces devoid of any recognition and your face mirroring theirs with disappointment, it's clear that this whole thing is far from its end. 

In fact, you're only at the beginning of a long, uncertain road. 

-

Thread twisted around pins lead to everywhere but the answer. You've been staring at the billboard for too long, trying to piece together the olden newspaper scraps and sticky notes, but there's nothing. Any signs of an answer bring you to nothing. Each path, strung by thread and yarn of colors signifying this and that, draws to a dead end.

If you don't work harder with your team, Bae Suzy would be dead, too. 

So why haven't you caught the abductor yet?

You and your team sit at the rounded table. They look solemn, and perhaps a little irritated. You can't blame them—the mission you thought would be the last became another one to the list of failed rescue operations. 

They're getting tired of this, and if it were any other case, they'd let go of it. But this is Bae Suzy you're talking about—she's famous, reputable, and intelligent. She's an accomplished actress, a loveable idol, and an excellent model. All of these make her the treasure of many high-class individuals who’d pay billions and fans who'd give their lives to have her back, so you have to go through. Whether you like it or not, that’s how the story goes.

Your boss, chief Miyawaki Sakura, crosses her arms sternly. High curved nose, straight-set lips, and eyes that never failed to scour through the team, she nods at you. It doesn't take a sign language translator to get what she means: start talking.

"The mission was aborted due to fallacies in translation and sources," you say. You're using your classic, signature neutral tone for meetings like this one. There's an edge to it today, though. No one dares to tell you about it. "One of our sources translated the location and transferred the information to us incorrectly, hence bringing us to another failed operation."

Your teammates nod. Sakura sighs, pinching her nose.

"Due to this," you continue, slapping down on the table a picture of Bae Suzy, in which she smiles charmingly and waves to a mass of reporters, "we must conduct further readings into the case to ensure that the information is accurate. For Bae Suzy, and for us."

Another series of nods from across the room. Most of them are half hearted.

"So, do any of you have a proposal as to where the kidnapper is now? And where he might have brought miss Bae?"

The quiet Kim Chaewon raises her hand. She used to be the one who brought and made the coffee, but after she helped you solve a cold case during her night shifts, you brought it upon yourself to let her join the team. She listened to the seminars well and was excellent in the training. She had potential, is what you're saying, so you're more than glad to hear from her side.

"I believe the kidnapper is a dancer. Maybe he’s brought her to a studio."

"That isn't relevant," says Sakura, venom in her voice. It’s wholly unintended for her to lash out at the new member of the squad, but her exhaustion is getting the better of her today. 

Chaewon blushes. "I believe it is, chief," she retorts timidly. "He left ballet shoes and leotards in the last operation. It might lead us to his location, especially if he's the sentimental type."

"And you say that after we ransacked an old man's warehouse? After he thought we were little shits playing soldiers and looking for some coke?"

“B-but the operation was your idea!”

"I launch all operations, honey," Sakura informs her, smiling with fake sweetness. "What do you do?"

"Sakura," you warn. Your words are tight. You don't have it in your soul to deal with her feistiness today. Any other day you would have let the bickering go on, but the failed mission has downed your spirits. 

Silence passes around the table. Wonyoung's looking around, waiting for someone to speak. Sakura's staring daggers into the flushed Chaewon. Minju and Yunjin are as quiet as they can be. 

Let the silence ferment with acknowledgement: "Thank you, Chaewon, for your input. Any other ideas?"

"I believe Chaewon is right,” Minju pipes up. “We received a letter from the suspect after the operation.”

You smile, both at the good news and the fact that Minju is, so far, the prettiest out of the squad, and doesn't have only a pretty face but the good wits to back it up, too. That's part of the reason why you love welcoming her point of view, but a letter sounds interesting. Probably even more interesting than getting close with Minju, a thought you entertained more than you should.

“Were there fingerprints?” you ask.

She hands you the letter, which is wrapped in an envelope with newspaper and magazine letters carefully pasted on its front. “No. He probably used gloves.”

You carefully rip the hood of the envelope upwards and pull out the folded paper. You then read it out loud:

"To the police, agents, and detective teams—

"You won't ever find me. I float through the crowds unseen. I glide through the lake of circumstance like a swan. I bring her along, and though she's a kitten scared of water, she's mine now. Forever.

"It would take years before you're even able to save your precious little Suzy. It might not even happen at all.

"For that reason, although I abhor you more than you'd think for you all are built on a system of lies and corruption, I offer you this clue:

"I have flown to other nations where my flock calls for me in our garden. Will you be able to shoot me down?

"Soar with me,

"The One Who Dances, A Flame Eternal."

It must have taken hours to cut out all those magazine letters. That's one thing you'll commend the abductor for.

"'The One Who Dances,'" says Wonyoung in awe. She realizes that Chaewon was right about him being a dancer. For someone as young and new to this side of the profession, it’s like watching a thing straight out of a thriller movie.

"'The One Who Dances,'" Sakura repeats, but in a more sarcastic tone than the interested girl. She scoffs. There's a smile on her face that’s amused despite the situation. "Boo, what a fucking nerd. Did he take up human sciences or something?"

"That's not relevant," you tell her, avenging Chaewon (and defending yourself, too, because you also studied human sciences. That's not fair. You aren't a nerd.)

"I’m telling you, those essays they make those kids do rot their brains. Oh, and shut the fuck up. This is why you aren't a team leader."

Choose to ignore her. "I… I just don't get it," you say hopelessly.

Your hair is thin between your fingers as you crawl your digits into it. They're tense, just like you are. You've been tight and stressed through the whole investigation process, in fact, because you've rolled through every possible location: a school, a secret hideout, an old building. None of them are occupied by the criminals. None of them have Bae Suzy.

"We're getting there," replies Yunjin softly. She pats your shoulder and looks at your billboard of pictures and clues, too. "We already know Suzy's being held captive. We just don't know where."

She's lying. That's what friends are for: to lie to make you feel better in situations where it's impossible to be. In that case, Yunjin’s an excellent friend because you're getting abso-fucking-lutely nowhere. It's been one failed rescue mission after another, and it doesn't seem like the next one would be successful either.

"That's the problem, Yunjin." Twirling the black ocean of coffee with a teaspoon, you point to a newspaper clipping thumbtacked to the west side of the board. "Last time, they said the kidnapper took her to the USA because she was seen at the airport."

You rise from your swivel chair to tug out a printed screenshot of the CCTV at said place, and raise it for everyone to see. It shows the timestamps and Bae Suzy looking scared as she stares into the crowds.

"But then she went back to Dutchland," Sakura adds. 

“Correct.” Take another grayscale photo where Bae Suzy waits unwillingly at the airport, and tap on the sign at the very front of the line she's in that says the name of the country. "The sources are just as confused as we are."

Yunjin's furrowed brow quirks. She picks up the folder and goes through it. The papers reflect in her black-rimmed glasses. "Why would she be in Dutchland?"

"Because," jab a thumb into the picture of Suzy again, "Dutchland means something to the kidnapper. He wouldn't have gone with Suzy there for nothing. It risks everything."

Dutchland is the main setting of the case, actually. Everything begins and ends there. Everything you know about the kidnapper lies in the note he addressed to the police, issued by Minju earlier.

Wait—

Pull out the kidnapper's letter again. It's impossible to mistake it for anything else even through the mess on the table when it's smoother than the other scratch papers. The identifying marks are your fingerprints from pen ink branded onto the thin piece of parchment.

Open it, rolling it out on the table like a mantle. It's a mantle of clues you run your finger on. Flown to other nations… soar with me… our garden… The One Who Dances…

Your breath catches in your throat. "Chaewon," you say, looking up at her, “you’re a fucking genius.”

-

One Leaf Academy is a rich, well-established school for aspiring ballerinas and professional dancers alike. There can't be any other the abductor was referring to. There's only one particularly famous ballet academy in Dutchland, and since he's mentioned that he was the one who danced, this was it. The "garden" mentioned in the letter helped map it down to one location.

It looks good even from bird's eye view. You can see it properly without the pane of a window standing in the way. When you’re part of the squad, flights aren’t taken on planes. Instead, you use helicopters, government-owned and government-approved. 

It took only two days for Dutchland to issue an agreement to let you through the borders. They love Bae Suzy, too, apparently. They love her so much that the process went by quickly and you weren’t even stressed about it. There’s more things to stress about later on, but there’s no use in lamenting the future when the present is already good as is.

The green helicopter lands in the forest behind the school. It camouflages among the leaves and trees, giving you the freedom to hop out of it as noisily as you’d like. 

Twigs and branches snap under your feet as you do, and you have to catch Sakura to stifle her trip.

She slaps your hands away and brushes down her dress, as if your touch ruined it. "Keep your fucking hands to yourself."

"You're welcome, Sakura," you say, shrugging.

"Can you two please stop fighting?" Wonyoung asks. Her delicate voice, irresistible even to the hardhearted Sakura, ceases the argument before it could continue.

Pull the ridiculous blazer they made you wear on and look at the team. "Everyone ready? You know your jobs?" you ask. 

"I'm the mother," says Sakura spitefully. She glares down at the gradient dress assigned to her. "I'll pretend to take pictures and talk to you through the phone."

"Who's the baby daddy?"

"For once, I beg, shut the fuck—"

"Guys," Wonyoung repeats with a more pleading voice. 

Sigh. The fight was on you and it's up to you to end it as well. So, turn to: "Wonyoung?"

"I stay behind and watch out for suspicious people," she replies, back to her usual bright but professional self. You hope she doesn't lose the shimmer in her eyes years down the road of being on the investigative team. You'd hate for her to go through what you had to deal with.

"Yunjin?" 

"First round of backup with Chaewon unnie." Yunjin taps the gun hidden in the loop of her jeans. 

"Minju?"

The girl blushes. "Look for Bae Suzy," she says in a small voice. She looks pointedly at you. "And you?"

"Find the abductor." Look down at your shoes and wonder if they'd ever experience a trip that isn't about work. "Put an end to everything."

Everything's been fleshed out already. There are backup plans of backup plans, earpieces hidden on the sides of your head when the need to communicate comes. This is how it usually is with undercover work. 

You ponder, for a moment, and think if it would forever be like this: a game of cat and mouse, always led on but never going through. It just fuels your passion to find Bae Suzy once and for all.

"Remember, this is a recital," Sakura informs all of you. She points to the backdoors of the ballet academy, which suppresses classical music from the inside. "We have to fit in. Don't drop your cover."

She looks at you and narrows her eyes. “Even if somebody tempts you.”

-

"Operation One Leaf, launched immediately."

You enter the recital with the subtle earpiece strapped to your lobe and your steps light. You carry your posture well, and with the suit, draw looks from the other parents and from children, too. They're wondering if you're the owner of the place, or maybe you're a well-dressed teacher? A wealthy father? They'll never know because you won't dare tell them. 

Regard them with a cold yet polite nod and walk through the sides of the chairs. There's not much of the audience left, but you still have to play your part. 

You lock eyes with Minju, who steps into the recital wearing preppy yet casual wear. Mouth her good luck. She smiles, but proceeds into the backrooms without another word. Right. She plays a part in the mission, too. You shouldn't disturb her.

"You're here, agent," she says anyway, tapping onto her own earpiece. Her voice rings in your ear. "Break a leg."

Sakura gets in a little while later. As per her job, she pulls out the communication device disguised as a phone and lifts it to the air, "recording" the dancer on the stage. 

Blend in with the crowd as you will. You're a little embarrassed by the attention you draw with your suit since the whole thing is supposed to be undercover, but there's no going back now. You have to act the part.

So: stride confidently into the room, never looking down. Take the first seat you see at the very front and look at the performance.

That's kind of how it all started: a look. It wasn't supposed to be anything else, but yes, one single look keeps you hypnotized, not just because of the dance, but the girl who performs it.

She might as well be a swan in disguise. She's got this resilient, princess-like look on her face that's more alluring than it should be. Even her hair serves her royalty; it elegantly floats around her neck and shoulders as she prances and twists.

The uniform, a long-sleeved blouse finished off with a flattering tie and a flowing skirt, doesn't hide her gracefulness. She moves in it as if she were the swan lake herself. Her movements are as fluid as can be. Each rush and lift of her leg guarantees an upskirted moment in which you're allowed to bask in the beauty of her legs and the fullness of her butt, and you know you shouldn't look. You're better than that; you shouldn't let a young, pretty girl stall your job, but there you are, front seat at a recital for professional senior high ballerinas, hypnotized by a ballerina's dance.

You have to snap out of it. You have better and more important things to do than mentally undress a pretty dancer, yet your eyes are glued on her. It's like your vision was programmed to catch every twirl and glide she makes across the platform, to relish the poke of her chest through the blouse that's a little too small, to yearn for her.

The music is just a dreamful background to her. You're dazed. Hypnotized. Locked into a passive position because of her. 

You want this ballerina. You can't do anything but look and want and long.

It's almost heartbreaking when her performance ends. She bows deeply, and you swear she's fired you a wink right before she rises up again. 

You have to get to know her. You want to ask her out, maybe even escalate things further on the first date if she’s willing. But you have a mission to do. The squad and saving Bae Suzy come first.

Regretfully, you stand from the monobloc chair and turn your heel. But then there she is, dressed in perfection and uniform, and looking prettier up close when she shouldn't be that close but she is close and you swear one more centimeter closer and you'd be closed up to her lips.

"Hi," she says, casually. 

That deep voice, fuck.

Wait, when did she get here? 

"I, uh, hi? Wait, how did you… why are you—"

"Please." She rolls her eyes, sets a hand on her tiny pinch of a waist. "Did you think you weren't obvious staring me down?"

"Well, uh—"

(What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you stuttering and stammering and stumbling over your words like you aren't more mature and older than her? How could she say that to you and disregard that fact? 

You couldn't be assed to know, but she's intimidating you in a whole different way: making you feel like the platform she dances on by acting sweet but not too sweet, flirty but not over the top. That's what you know, but here's the problem: you have little idea what to do.)

"Calm down," she says. She's a tall girl, but smaller enough to smooth down your blazer and close it softly around your chest. Her eyes are enticing. "I'm just playing with you." 

Swallow. Try to collect your composure back into a neat pile, but it overflows and ceases. "Excuse me," you say, voice shaking, "do I know you?" 

She pushes out her pink bottom lip, bites it, then shakes her head. "It's Kazuha, if that rings a bell."

"If I didn't know your name, Kazuha," you say, "I'd say I recognize you from somewhere."

"You do?"

"Yeah." The more you talk, the more she looks like Bae Suzy. "You, y-you kind of look like someone I'm looking for."

Kazuha guides you with a hand around your wrist and walks you to the backroom. You have no sense of direction when your eyes are sealed onto her gorgeous face, perfect with their brown eyes and sculpted nose. It's a tour guide to danger, and you don't even know that you're hiking.

"Is she your wife?" She rubs the back of your hand with a thumb, looking at you with such authentic concern that you almost fall for it. Almost. "Girlfriend?"

"No." Breathe through your nose. "Just someone I have to look for."

Slam. The door shuts, and now you're effectively pinned upon its wood like a poster. Amazing how a woman smaller than you could do you like that: have you weak at your knees as she keeps you on the flat of the door, stares you down with no hatred in her eyes, but sultriness. You don't know how you pick up all those clues when she's not speaking, but Kazuha, as you come to find out, isn't like any other girl. She's known her whole life to speak through her body, and the message from her hands pushing you into a flattened position and her leg propped next to your hip is clear.

You’re not sure if you want to open her note and read it.

"Tell me," Kazuha says, chastely, although her actions are anything but, "am I as hot as her?"

Your eyes widen. It's utterly unprofessional; you as an agent shouldn't even begin to engage in a conversation about how the victim's sexually attractive when she might be in the most vulnerable place right now.

Stutter again. Broken words become a new language you're fluent in, and might as well be a native speaker of with how much Kazuha learned you into it. You have her slim, hot body pressed up against yours to thank, and the look in her eyes. The tilt of her pretty little head. Her subtle, knowing smirk.

"I can't talk about that with you," you say, because it's true—you can't. You have a mission to do and your morals to keep.

"Sure you can," Kazuha counters. Her eyes glimmer. "I'm the top student in One Leaf. They basically made me a star when they knew that my name meant 'one leaf,' too. Isn't that funny?"

"What's your point here?"

"The point is," she says, leveling your gaze, "if I fuck you right here in this room, they wouldn't give a damn."

She has a hold of your hands, imprisoning them and trapping them on the slopes of her sizable chest. Your breath hooks on nothing and is released incompletely. Kazuha's breasts are so soft, not the biggest but fill your hands up so well that you'd take them over any other pair. 

Have to resist the voice inside you telling you to squeeze. "What are you doing?" you ask. 

"Tell me, what do men like you want?" 

Kazuha curls your hand into her flesh so that she's making you squeeze—

"Tits—" 

—then leads it below her pleated skirt, lets it cup the globes and touch places that should otherwise be left untouched—

"—or ass?"

Both are tastes of heaven. The two choices are soft yet alluring. But you really shouldn't, though you want to rip that skirt clean off her legs and spank her till her cheeks are red. She deserves that for tempting you, for being such a bad girl when she's otherwise excellent at being a ballerina.

"I can't talk to you about that," you have to repeat. But it sounds more like you're convincing yourself rather than her. 

Oh, and she's far from being budged. 

Kazuha pulls you by the tie and drags you to the nearest monobloc chair. There are plenty of other seats just like that here in the utility room, but she chooses to throw a beautiful, toned leg over each side of your hips and sit on your lap instead. Her ass snuggles your crotch and her legs keep you trapped onto the chair.

"What about now?" she asks. 

Then her hips start to sway—it's another coax for you to drag out of your shell and do what you shouldn't. It's another dance besides ballet that she knows well, and you can tell from how her thighs flex and bounce underneath your touch, she's very good at it. 

"K-Kazuha… fuck—"

"Come on." She's straight up dry humping you, dragging her perfect pussy up and down your growing erection. Her eyes and mouth both pose a challenge: "Tell me I should stop. Tell me you want to do anything that isn't to fuck me."

Kazuha rubs herself on you. She uses your clothed cock as a personal toy for a few delicious seconds, then rises from your lap to unbutton her blouse. One by one, they undo themselves and the pale skin of her chest is revealed. There's her small cleavage. A collarbone carved from perfection. Her beautiful chest. Too much is what it is, yet your perverted self can't stop gawking.

You remember Sakura's words earlier. She told you not to drop your cover, not to get tempted. You dislike Sakura, yet it's her warning that ignites your hesitation. She suspected that you'd fall like this. She was only trying to hold you back.

"Well? What's gonna happen then?" Kazuha crosses her arms. They frame the underside of her tits, a perfect picture. "Do you want to go out there and find some stupid girl or fuck the one on your lap? What's it gonna be, daddy?"

You're not a daddy kink type of person. In fact, you don't really have that much of a sex drive. Intercourse and the like are things you have no time for when your job is like this, much less a discovery of a daddy kink.

So why is your dick so much harder now that she's said it?

Why are your hands on her hips?

Why are you carrying Kazuha's lithe form and placing her right on a desk?

Why are you kissing her?

When your lips and hers meet, an apocalypse is birthed. An apocalypse of sex, hunger, and desire breaks out. Your eyes are closed, yet your hands and Kazuha's own know exactly where to touch and hold. She unbuckles your belt and pulls down your pants. You slide your greedy fingers over Kazuha's perfect buttcheeks. Tug off the ridiculous shorts that saved her performance from being pornographic. Rip off the panties that are sticky with need.

"Oh, ohhh, you like that?" Kazuha moans while you kiss her neck and chest. Don't bother to rip off the uniform when it looks incredibly sexy on her fit body. "You like me calling you that, daddy?"

"Quiet. We're making this quick."

"So you do want to fuck me."

Thighs touch your lips when you make your way down. Or is it the other way around? Whatever, the point is that Kazuha's thighs are a delicacy. They're full yet sculpted and would look great looped around your head. Luckily, you find that the sopped core between them is more delicious.

Lick a line from the bottom of her slit right up to her bundle of nerves. "Who says I want to fuck you?"

"D-daddy!" Kazuha gasps, covering her mouth. 

"You're quick to call me that." You kiss the insides of thighs then start trailing your tongue around her clit. On top of it. Under it. Each side is subject to immense pleasure. "Where's the shame, little dancer?" 

"Right on with the nicknames." 

You splay Kazuha's pink lips and stick your tongue in between them. Her hips buckle forward. Her eyes are all wide and eager and needy, and it takes a few more thrusts of your tongue to have them shut. 

However, it doesn't take a lot for Kazuha to moan. Her voice is tinged with deep tones, and they pronounce out prolonged cries as you toy her cunt with your tongue. Her thighs threaten to crush your head, but, if anything, you'd welcome it. You're happy to be trapped in between her luscious legs and keep the feminine scent of her pussy right up close. Her juices could be your water, the food would be her core itself—you're already eating it like a meal anyway.

"Of course. If you want to play games, I'll give in." Toy with her clit, then proceed to give it harsh sucks and slurps that her lower body spasms. "I'm just playing along."

Kazuha bites on a bated breath and beats the table with a bent hand. "What if I'm not playing around, daddy?" 

"Hm?"

"What if, fuck, I'm not playing around?" She pushes you deeper between her legs and wraps them around your head. She toys with the sides of your ears. "Maybe I like fucking people who obviously shouldn't be doing it. Maybe I like calling a hot man daddy. It just feels so good for me. Did you ever think about that?"

And maybe you like fucking a girl who's a hindrance to your mission. Maybe you like eating out her wet cunt, driving your tongue deeper into the soaked fuckhole, and doing everything you wanted to do to her when she was onstage. 

But all of that is just one maybe after another. As far as you're concerned, you don't actually like doing it, yet when Kazuha whines and squirms like that, your mind is quickly changed.

Self-discovery, you guess.

"So do it," you challenge her. Look up at her while you quickly rub her clit. "Call me daddy."

"Daddy, hngnnn, fuck, daddy!" 

Kazuha's pussy creates the most obscene wet sounds. Your index finger doesn't rest; it fires away at her clit, her most sensitive spot, and urges it to become more swollen. More sensitive. More desperate.

Push her other leg up for more access. As you expected, it effortlessly rises. Who knew that her years of dancing as a professional ballerina would translate well when eating her pussy? You love how her thigh quivers and tries to stay upward while you eat her out. That's one thing ballet didn't teach her: to stay stabilized when there's a tongue and finger assaulting her center.

"Are you usually this wet, Kazuha? After you dance out there with your legs and thighs out for everyone to see?" 

"No, no, I'm not wet! You're, hnnn, daddy," her eyes lose focus and she rolls her head back, mouth gaped, "oh, fuck, daddy, I'm gonna cum!"

Start to jack yourself off to the unholy, R-18 scene of Kazuha approaching orgasm. Is it a known thing that ballerinas are the most beautiful when they cum? If not, it should be, for Kazuha's blissful face—eyes shut, mouth wide with moans—and her shaking legs enchant you. They draw you into her and have you rubbing and tapping at her core to coax out more euphoric reactions from her. 

Slip your fingers inside her. Be greeted with a fountain of liquid and scent. Appreciate how tight she is when it's only your fingers in her.

"God, daddy, not there!" Kazuha screams. Have to dodge a few times for her kicking and flailing legs to miss your face. "I'm so sensitive there, oh no, you can't—oh, fuck—daddy!"

Her deep voice thrills your erection, and you could have cum on the spot with her if you were more focused on rubbing her orgasm out. A bit of squirt stains your fingers, but you end up getting more stains of girl cum on yourself as you go on fingering and rubbing. 

Kazuha rubs her own nipples as she settles down from her high. "That, that was—daddy—"

You hush her. There's no time to talk. You unravel Kazuha's tie and wrap the little gray thing around her wrists. You knot them tightly after you wring her arms behind her back. She watches on with confusion, wondering why you're suddenly being so horny. 

If she asked, you'd explain that it's because of her. Who else could be the culprit when she's there with her incredible thighs and perfect, fuckable body? When she's the feistiest little thing who just turns out to crumble if the right guy crosses her? Everything about Kazuha seems to be designed and fabricated to tempt you, and look at you giving in.

"You're tying me up, daddy?" she asks, tone varying between disappointment and excitement.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

She's so cute, really—she closes up to you with the biggest eyes of hurt and want, with her slim lips curved downwards into a pout. "You have to fuck me," she says, like it's a promise you made that she's been waiting on to be granted for a while. "It's not fair. You can't even fuck well, daddy, and you're tying me up? You must be joking."

Scoff. "I wasn't so bad at fucking when I ate your pussy."

"I was just moaning to make you happy." Kazuha leans forward, presenting her exposed cleavage and face that looks otherwise innocent besides the smirk. "I love making big handsome daddies like you happy."

Her words and cutesy tone send chills down your spine. She's so attractive that it's becoming scary, even when she's bound by the hands. 

"Don't you feel bad, daddy?" she asks with a timely lull of her head to the side. "You're giving your whole career away to fuck me. You're supposed to be doing something else, aren't you? Something other than fucking me? So why are you here?"

Her words hit too close to home. "You don't know anything about me, Kazuha." 

"Sure I do."

"Turn around."

"Make me. Holy shit, daddy, you have such a big cock, but you're so pathetic. You didn't expect to fuck a girl tonight, did you? But you saw me and thought about it. And now that I've figured you out, you got mad. Why's it the fault of a good little girl like me that you're doing the wrong thing? Maybe it's because you know you're such a bad person, a bad guy—"

You grab her and push her stomach down on the table. Your rod slips inside the ballerina, and she breaks.

And it's everything you've ever wanted: she's hot and tight and wet around you. Her bouncy ass lives up to its description as you pump at a rapid fire pace inside her. Her pussy's so tight that it feels like it's pinching you to keep you inside, and you do exactly that. You'd never want to be anywhere else.

But you still make sure to pull out to let your length breathe, then submerge them into the tightness of her vagina again. Her lips cling to your dick. They don't want you to be anywhere else either. 

“Say you’re sorry.”

"S-sorry, daddy!" she's quick to say. A broken mirror lies across the table, and from there you can see the expressions of winces and moans on her beautiful face.

"Fucking mean it." 

"Kazu… ha, Kazuha… Kazuha's sorry, daddy!"

There's a certain power you impel on this thrust specifically, and it sends her legs buckling. Place a hand on her bound wrists to keep her in place just like she did when she had you trapped to the door.

Frankly, you did it for the chance to slap her cheeks. Spank one and it jiggles beautifully. Spank the other and her hole tightens. Make it a point of yours to spank there particularly, all while keeping the unyielding quality of her hole. It's how you keep the brat that is Kazuha on a leash.

"Daddy, daddy, fuck!" she screams. "You're so, so good, please keep fucking me!"

"Contradicting yourself." Pull out, much to her disappointment, and slide your cock up and down in the plateau of her asscheeks. The flesh of her ass hugs you. 

"Why'd you pull out, daddy?" Kazuha asks. She looks back at you and pleads with the shimmer in her eyes.

"I wanted to see if this ass is as soft as it looks."

For a few blissful moments you fuck Kazuha's ass cheeks, but never really entering her puckered pink hole. It causes her to whine and pout. It's impossible to not give in to such a pretty face, so you continue for a few seconds, letting the pleasure entice your cock to a full solidness, then pause.

"Are you a good girl, Kazuha?" Rub her pussy then bring your slick digits to her mouth. 

Kazuha licks them clean and nods repeatedly. If you weren't so focused on riling her up, you'd go back to the moment your squad nodded their heads as you went over the mission plan. "Yesss, daddy."

"So much you'd let me fuck this perfect pussy till I'm spent?"

"Yes!"

Twist Kazuha around and prop her on the desk. Then, you tear her blouse. Buttons soar in the air to make way for her full, ab-ridden midriff to be exposed. Her tiny slutty waist has your mouth agape. Her small breasts peek through her black lace bra.

"And let me cum all over this midriff?" you ask, staking the deal higher.

"Oh, what's that?" Kazuha smirks. "Is little old daddy scared to breed me?"

Her character when she's not being fucked confuses you just as much as it arouses you. She looks way better when she's being a submissive little dancer, though.

"Bad girls don't get to be bred."

Push inside her. Yes, you're doing this again. Kazuha's abs flex, and the breaths she takes and releases become more strained. 

As you pound her, she looks at you with this face that's lost any elegance from dancing. It's looking like she's slightly sleepy with pleasure, like she wanted to lay there while she let you have your way with her. And you'd be glad to—her ripped uniform and pretty legs would spur you on in no time.

You grab her ass and start dragging her to yourself, too, to fill her deeper. It works; your tip makes it to her womb and right then and there you're tempted to be hypocritical and breed her anyway. You'd love to imagine how her face basked in pleasure would look when you fill her with your load. You'd love to see her pull the weight of being bred well and dance out there with no care that your semen's rolling down her soft legs. 

But she doesn't deserve it.

"Pleaaaase, I'll be so good!" she says. Her hands end up on your shoulders and she's kissing you everywhere. "I'll be a good girl, daddy, just fffucking fill me up. I'll never… I'll be…. oh!"

You're going too fast. Your sudden burst of energy leaves her on the edge. On the wall, to be more precise, because you're ruining and rearranging her insides so well that she's knocked onto the walls again and again. 

"Daddy…" 

Kazuha winces. Moans. C-cries? She doesn't know what to do. Her legs feel hot and she feels like she's going to burst anytime soon. Your cock's impaling her in all the right ways, grazing her cervix and G-spot but also parting her walls just so that the pain transforms into pleasure. "Gonna cum now, daddy, please let me—oh, please—"

The last word comes out wrung in between pitches. Kazuha shudders and squeals. The pleasure's overwhelming her so much that she's let go of her strength. Her legs feel too weak. Her throat, although you haven't fucked it, is sore. Then you're painting her abs, white fluid against and above and over white skin, and she immediately fingers some of your release and pushes a digit inside herself. She's a resourceful girl besides being an excellent ballerina. Good to know.

"You really didn't breed me, daddy?" she asks sadly.

You regret not doing so seeing the hopeless look on her face. "Sorry, but I've got to—"

Your eyes size up to planets.

—"go."

It's only at the finish of your sentence that you realize that you're right. You do have to go. Why are you here when you have a mission to find the abductor? 

"Shit, shit, shit!" Pull your pants up and fix your blazer. It's cool inside the utility room, but your blood's run cold. "I have to go, Kazuha. I—"

Kazuha rolls her eyes. "Fix your earpiece first, daddy. You're a mess."

You blindly follow her words before you even suspect why she knew about the earpiece, or why it's off. After you tap on it, you hear the following, haunting words:

"Mission aborted. Mission aborted. We've been betrayed."

"No, no, no." You shake your head over and over. You can’t believe that was happening and you missed out on assisting your teammates out. Speak through the piece in a shaken voice, "What's going on? Yunjin? Yunjin, what's going on?"

"What the fuck?" she says, obviously infuriated. "I've been trying to reach you, agent! Where the hell are you?"

Look around. "Uh… I met a girl. We're in the back."

"Fuck. What's her name?"

"Kazuha."

Yunjin's voice reaches an alarm you've never heard from her. "Get the fuck out of there, agent! Get away from her, kill her, I don't give a fuck, just run!"

"B-but why?" 

"The kidnapper's not a 'him,' she's a 'she'! It's a trap!"

As Yunjin's voice echoes from your earpiece in the small room, Kazuha's creepy smile grows. 

"Yunjin," flash a look at the ballerina, who’s still smiling, then at the ceiling, "I don't understand."

"Get your fucking head in the game. 'The One Who Dances', agent. 'One Leaf'! The answer was right in our face, it's her!" Yunjin's practically shouting now. It deafens you, but you hear every word loud and clear. "She impersonated Bae Suzy at the airport, agent. The ‘cat’ in the letter wasn’t about Suzy, it’s about Sakura! She betrayed us!”

You look at Kazuha, and suddenly her smile isn’t as alluring as it was when you were fucking her. It speaks of an impending doom. It tells you that you should really run, but there wouldn’t be much change if you did because she’d still catch you. You’d still end up dead.

Suddenly, all the pieces to the story that played behind the scenes fall into place. They connect too well for it to be false. You never questioned once why Sakura led you in each of the operations, and now it’s clear why she did: she was holding you back from saving Suzy. There was a reason why she was team leader. How did you not catch it?

And Kazuha… she didn’t come up to you just because she wanted to, did she? She had a partner and a purpose. You were searching for the culprit ever since you stepped foot into the academy. It didn’t hit you once that you might be fucking her. 

Kazuha takes a few steps towards you and lays her forehead into your chest. “You’re not mad, are you, daddy?”

How did her tie suddenly disappear from her wrists?

[ladyloveandjustice]

To give my Real Opinion on the whole Clark vs Lois issue (since people are giving me theirs), I'm surprised it is an issue, since it's very clearly supposed to be an conflict where both people made decisions that made sense from their point of view but still hurt each other. It makes sense that Clark would be insecure about telling Lois this when she's acting distrustful of Superman, and it makes sense he'd freak out and not handle a situation where she was putting a lot of pressure on him well. It also makes sense that Lois would be angry (and probably humiliated) and upset that Clark not only lied to her face when she was begging him to tell her the truth, but left her where she couldn't help him when she was worried sick about him.

Honestly, I think a lot of you aren't being honest about how you'd feel if you had a friend who disappeared every time something dangerous happened, you spent a lot of time frantically searching and worrying about that friend each time, only to find out oh hey, your friend was well aware of how worried you were and was actually right there but they were pretending to be someone else instead of letting you in on what was happening. You'd feel played with.

And Clark also KEPT lying when she was basically saying "hey stop lying to me. I know." He did it instinctively. She was begging him to tell her, and he didn't. That's going to hurt, and that's going to be galling. She definitely felt she had no other choice than to do something drastic, because she can't enter a relationship with someone she knows is lying to her and here he is, refusing to come clean. She's a reporter, the need to know drives her.

"Lois isn't entitled to Clark's private information, they haven't known each other that long", sure, but Clark vanishes in dangerous situations and causes real distress, Clark has been discussing Superman with Lois and unconsciously trying to manipulate her feelings on him while not telling her the whole truth, and you'd feel weird if someone did that, you'd feel kinda violated! And even if someone told you they weren't doing that to laugh at you, wouldn't you be hurt and humiliated?!

When exactly IS Lois entitled to Clark's info? When they start dating? How many months is it okay for him to date her without him telling her he's actually the guy she spends every waking minute trying to interview? Would he have told her as their relationship got serious? Not knowing that is probably scary and if I was Lois I'd think twice about if I wanted this either!

And what's especially scary is that yeah, he did leave her behind to so he could possibly go get killed when she was begging him not to. That's terrifying. She was probably terrified the entire time she waited. He was able to take her choice away from her, and Lois does not like feeling helpless. Clark was scared of her getting hurt, so he enforced his will and so shewas scared for HIM. and then he refused to talk about those worries!

It's also pretty galling when she's already helped him out in several fights- she's proven she can be useful and helpful! I'd be mad too! I'm sure there was a little vindictiveness in her actions- you see how you like it when someone takes your choice away too.

At the same time, Clark is clearly not comfortable showing people his whole self. He still doesn't know who he is, and he goes into panic mode about it. He's very scared of people being hurt because of him. What he did made sense from his point of view. And I'm sure he's not happy to be forced to reveal his secret.

It doesn't matter 'who's more right'. It's not a game they get to win! They both violated each other's boundaries. Their feelings both make sense from their perspective, and interesting conflicts are complicated. And I like it when characters don't just react to everything flawlessly. There's a lot of drama in secret identities, and sometimes stories have conflict.

I do agree this should have happened later in the season or as a season 2 thing, but that's sadly just life in this streaming hell era. They didn't know if they'd get a season 2 to tell the story they wanted. We have to take the conflict as it is. And let's face it, if Lois had taken longer to figure out, y'all would be making fun of her for being dumb. Lois is for some reason always the butt of that joke even though nobody else can see Clark is Superman either- and when she does figure it out (as she usually does!) and has anything other than positive feelings about it she still gets blamed. Just enjoy having a character who can have complex feelings.

If you hate relationship conflict, there's stuff for you out there! Read Superman Family Adventures by Art Baltazar, it's very cute low stakes low conflict stuff and has an actual Himbo Clark.

[scaralvr]

dendrobiums. scaramouche x gn!reader (angst, no comfort, argument)

prompt #14: "you don't love me, do you?" this is an entry for @versadies writing collab farewell love!!

you had known kunikuzushi for a long time, but not long enough, as it seems he holds secrets to himself he doesn't wish to share with you, his companion, his lover. you believe that upon being cursed with immortality, you've seen it all; the woe and joy that the people around you experience.

though, seeing him distressed and quiet as of late caused your heart to twinge with an inexplicable searing pain. living in a peaceful house isolated within the heavenly fields of inazuma, you found it hard not to feel lonely sometimes, with kunikuzushi being oddly silent.

your kimono fluttered in the light wind that blew, causing the blades of grass to bend under its command. despite your lover's strange nature, you decided to be patient with him, as you always are. vibrant dendrobiums filled the basket you cradled in your arm, planning on gifting them to kunikuzushi who's been cooped up in the house.

a lovely smile adorned your lips akin to vibrant flower petals as you walked back to the house. lately, the air was menacing, as if no one lived in the small cottage you reside in with him. the cottage was perched on a cliff above water, cutting off the bustle of the nation from your peaceful life with him. you close the door behind you and peer into the hallway around the corner.

the door at the end was agape, where you assumed he was laying in bed again. entering the shinshitsu, you greeted him with a, "good evening, kuni." before sitting on the futon, back facing his figure. a few moments of silence passed.

"i picked dendrobiums for you. i know you're not a big fan of flowers but they were blooming so beautifully and... i thought you'd like them." you meekly commented, fingertips grazing against the flower's stem. "kuni-" you turned around and in an instant he was on top of you, pinning you to the futon as the basket of dendrobiums fell to the side, spilling its contents across the floor.

your pupils dilated. his grip on your wrists tightened but you didn't mind it at first; he would never hurt you. "kunikuzushi?" you repeated, in a hushed voice this time. he finally looked into your eyes after what seemed like an eternity.

those electric violet eyes that you've come to love, filled with such hatred.

"do not fool me. why are you here?" kunikuzushi interrogated, teeth gritting together. "just to love and abandon me, is that it? are you staying longer for the pleasure in knowing how much it will hurt when you finally leave?" tears released from his angry glare that landed on your cheek. "i'm here because i love you." you simply replied.

kunikuzushi clenched his jaw. "i said, don't lie." his nails began to dig into the skin of your wrists and at that, you felt your heart rate slightly quicken. "why would i be lying, kunikuzushi?" you breathed out. "you never tell me anything."

at that statement, kunikuzushi's eyes widened. "what do you- what do you mean?" he asked, his grasp loosening but refusing to release. "do you doubt me that much?" you queried with a trembling voice, a tear slipping from your eye and falling onto the futon.

"what happened to you, kunikuzushi? what did they do to you?"

"shut up. you don't know what you're talking about." he whispered, more tears beginning to fall from his eyes. he let go and backed away from you as you sat up, following him out of the room. "you need to tell me something! anything!-" kunikuzushi ignored your protests and covered his ears, "you wouldn't understand. you never understand!"

you paused, "you've never touched me once, don't you know?" he stopped in his tracks. "you never look at me. you haven't done a single thing since we began this hell of a relationship where we promised we'd give each other the affection we never had!" you panted, voice straining to keep a loud volume.

you were afraid he would run away from your inquiries again, from letting you know why he's so distant after years of being with you. that's when you realized, there was only one possibility left.

"you don't love me do you?"

he visibly tensed up. your eyes filled to the brim with more tears bound to escape. all he has to do is say those three words you never heard him tell you before, and you'll be fine. you'll continue to live under the same roof with your lover, who may not tell you everything, but still adores you.

if only that were the case for poor you. poor you, who was victim to the hurtful words he spouted at you, telling you that you're right, he doesn't love you. he supposes he just used you as some sort of mental stability from the people he's met in the past. he supposes that he considered none of this real from the very beginning.

you stood there, hands by your sides as hot tears continuously poured down your face with your mouth slightly agape. oh, the truth hurts, doesn't it?

"love you? i absolutely loathe you, (y/n)." kunikuzushi finished off, shoulders rising and falling with each heavy exhale he took.

a little later, kunikuzushi took a walk to clear his mind. his half-lidded hues flitted across inazuma's heavenly welkin, a gut-wrenching feeling weighing within him. the sun was beginning to set, and he comes to a conclusion. he should learn to let go of the past by now and he'll start with you. you, who have been nothing but patient and gentle with him, you, who never left despite the cold shoulder he gave.

yes, it's always been you. you're the source of his happiness, the reason he wishes to arise to another morning. kunikuzushi feels guilty for what he said earlier and decides to make it up to you by picking dendrobiums, much like the ones you gifted him earlier that he so rudely threw away.

with a hopeful smile gracing his features, he walks through the grass to pick very specific dendrobiums all the while making sure they were perfect from top to bottom, fit for his lover.

kunikuzushi's hands were soiled with the dirt from the ground yet he didn't mind, just as long as he had you waiting for him at home. he sighs out with a grin, rushing to the front door. as he opens it, a strange thought settles in the back of his mind.

the aura seemed a little emptier than usual, but he shrugged it off as the fact that the two of you left off at a bad mood. kunikuzushi was more than ready to apologize, his smile faltering to a smaller one as he realizes you'd probably be mad at him, though he'd understand.

because it doesn't matter, because you'll still stay. to think that you'll be the first person that doesn't betray him still takes him aback sometimes and now, he's ready to accept it.

"my love, i've returned." the nickname sounds a little odd at first, rolling off of his tongue; kunikuzushi hasn't called you an endearment like that, ever. he rounds a corner and makes his way down the hall to the shinshitsu. when he slides the shoji doors open, he drops his flowers but quickly picks them back up.

"(y-y/n)?" he stutters out, gaze anxiously darting about the room as he searches for your presence. how long has he been out for? maybe one, two hours? where could you have gone in all that time? this is when he begins to panic.

kunikuzushi leaves the room and searches all over the house. "(y/n)!" he calls again in a more desperate voice. not now, not yet. he runs outside, panting as he tries to get to the city. stay, for just a little bit longer, he pleads within his mind, hoping to catch sight of you.

you promised...

dodging past hordes of people, he catches a glimpse of you at the docks. kunikuzushi's eyes grow wide in realization. he recollects himself and manages to escape the crowd. his hand reaches for your figure.

"excuse me?"

"huh?" you look up at the man before you who called. "o-oh, nevermind. i thought i saw someone." he stammered, rubbing his neck. you nod your head and enter the boat where you cross paths with your close friend, beidou.

you can see the visible frown on her lips. "you sure you wanna' leave, kid? i mean, it's great you want to continue traveling with the crux again like you used to, but-" you stop her short, "it's alright, beidou. but i appreciate your concern."

you sigh through your nose, giving inazuma a sorrow glance. you'll never forget the lovely puppet you met. the lovely, yet misunderstood puppet.

and that very puppet you were thinking of couldn't do it. he stayed behind a wall, akin to a coward. would things have ended differently if he learned to control his emotions? would you still be in the cottage embracing him in your arms?

he clutches the dendrobiums in his hands, his rigid nails digging into the stems as he thinks about all of these possibilities. kunikuzushi returns to the home he once shared with you with a heavy heart.

upon arrival, he drops the flowers. tears start pouring and in just a few moments, does he start crying like he did those countless nights and for more to come now that you've realized what he truly is.

nothing but a ghastly monster that takes your kindness for granted.

kunikuzushi cries and cries, his body failing him as he falls to his knees. the poor puppet's tears land onto the withering dendrobiums as night covers the whole of inazuma. "i didn't mean it, i didn't," he sobs, recalling the way you looked so harmed by his words.

"i didn't mean anything, i'm sorry," he apologizes to no one in particular, but the wind replies, for it tousles his hair and causes his face to dry, only for more tears to continue dripping. kunikuzushi supposes this is the way it was always going to be like. none of those betrayals were really his fault now, were they?

it's because he can't handle abandonment, and all he wants is to be loved. when he enters the empty bedroom and lays onto the futon, eyes sore from crying, he thinks about a specific time.

the time when you loved him, and always fought for his attention.

"kuni, look!" you presented him a dendrobium, "isn't it pretty? it's pretty just like you!" you happily chirped, walking by his side. kunikuzushi stayed silent as he looked around; anywhere but your gaze. you avoided a frown from placing itself on your lips.

"h-hey, what do you think of nature? it's fascinating, isn't it?" you asked, tilting your head as an attempt to view his expression. blank.

kunikuzushi hisses at the memory, resenting himself for constantly ignoring your obvious yet somewhat subtle acts of affection. fresh tears peek at the corner of his eyes.

"kuni, i bought you dango from the market! i don't know if you like it, but you can always try!"

"i don't."

you stammer, "h-huh?" kunikuzushi emphasizes, "i don't like desserts. they rot the teeth." he mumbled the end of the sentence and your shoulders sink, "oh, i see. well, that's perfectly reasonable!" you laugh it off with that signature smile of yours.

kunikuzushi closes his eyes. he'd do anything to go back to that moment. he would've told you that it was his favourite thing in the world to eat; dango. kunikuzushi wishes he didn't pretend he never saw the desserts that rotted in the trash that you bought or made just for him.

at that, he begins to wonder what your baking tasted like. you often did it for him...

"kuni? i only realized yesterday that, um, you never told me your birthday and i feel a bit bad for not noticing sooner. so i made you a cake to make up for all the ones i missed!" you said with a smile. all of the hope in your eyes dissipates when he looks at you in disgust.

kunikuzushi sighed, "eat it yourself. don't you ever listen to what i say? i hate sweets."

the next morning, a dark cloud hangs above the puppet's head. he believes he has no purpose without you. he tends to try and convince himself that he resents you, but can never bring himself to do it when he knows the truth he hides deep down.

when he joins the fatui and becomes scaramouche, there are only two reasons he continues to push on further. to steal the gnosis for a heart of his own so he may finally apply to love you again.

but what use is it when you've already moved on?

© scaralvr.

[eroticsturn]

Tough guy - M.S

Warnings : NSFW, prasing kink, use of mommy, sub matt, and idk what else.

don't like, don't read. i'm not your parent

Matt's been putting on this tough guy persona for a while. Typically being disrespectful to his brothers and insulting them in the tiktoks, car videos, and podcasts. Chris and Nick are starting to become frustrated since they're trying to get things done without any interruptions. He even gets to the point where he starts to act rudely toward you, which left you confused because you didn't think he would really just snap at you.

"y/n please do something about it" Chris complains because he is tired of Matt's attitude. "It's so fucking annoying. He acts like we are against him." "It's really frustrating," Nick exclaims, looking distressed and irritated as he works to edit the video they recently recorded. You can't help but wonder if he simply needs to release some tension.

You head to his room and say, "Yeah, I'll go check on him and see if he needs anything." As soon as you gently tap on his door, he says, "Come in." He's playing Fortnite with his back to you as you slowly open the door.

"what do you want?" He turns to face you with an annoyed expression on his face. You approach the back of his chair and gently caress his shoulders with your hands. He feels your bare hands slide down his chest, and he tenses. He catches his breath, but attempts to play the game to take his mind off it.

You step around his chair and pull it back. To get enough room to move between him and his desk, he glances up at you. He returns his focus to his game, rolling his piercing blue eyes.

Sitting back against his desk, you saw how his fingers moved fast along the controller, or how his face scrunches when he loses, and you thought to yourself, he won't be pulling off this tough act for long. You're essentially eye fucking him at his point since all these naughty thoughts are racing through your mind.

As he notices your intense gaze, he asks, "What the fuck do you want? are you just gonna stand there and look, or will you get the fuck out?" He becomes angry that you're just staring at him and not saying anything.

You caress his chest and stare at him innocently, saying, "You know, matty, you shouldn't be so uptight and take your frustration out on me. I haven't caused you any harm." As you put your hands on his waistband, he begins to blush and his breathing becomes heavy.

You put your palm directly above his dick and watch as he tries to remain calm. His eyes are yearning as he stares up at you, and a bulge appears beneath your touch. You begin to palpate him to see his reaction.

His brows furrow as he looks at you, whining. You're still palming him, he's slowly starting to let go of his controller. "Y/n" cries, "hm?" you ask, still gently palming him. testing the limits of you toying with him. He turns to face you and begs, "Please, m-mommy." “T-touch me," he exclaims.

"Well, Matty, I'm not sure. You've continued to portray a tough guy attitude. Maybe I should just leave you all hot and bothered," you say as you take your hand off of his throbbing erection. "No! Mommy, please, please. I'll be a good boy. I promise!" He practically begs for you to touch his bulge, and he start grabbing your wrist in an attempt to get your hand back on it.

You stare into his eyes and say, "Be a good boy and take your pants off then." He gets up right away and takes off his sweats. "But keep those on" you say as he begins to remove his boxers. He gives a short, muffled "okay," then returns to his gaming chair.

You stare at his desperate form and feel the gap between your legs getting wet. As you begin to kiss his neck, you slide onto his lap. He's moaning and attempting to ease the pressure of his erection. He makes an attempt to feel something by pressing your hips down on top of him.

When you eventually press against his bulge, he lets out a satisfied grunt right away. "Y/n, please do something" He throws back his head and cries, "I need you so badly." you keep sucking and licking his neck.

You can see how desperate he is for it. Even though you enjoy watching him plead and cry, you eventually give in to his requests.

You reach down to grab his boxers and pull them down with your hands. You've been teasing him for a while now, so his dick pops out and smacks his lower belly, his tip oozing with precum and extremely red. He closes his eyes and waits for you to do something. You see his head fall back into his chair and his mouth curve into an o shape, you softly stroke your fingers upward. He tries not to roll his eyes back while he pants.

"Please go faster," he begs, and you comply by moving more quickly.

You keep going at this quick speed until you feel his cock twitch and his hips buckle. His eyes roll back and he begins to whimper more loudly. He cries, "p-please, let me cum," since he is at his breaking point. You stop your actions before he has an opportunity to cum.

He sighs and turns to face you, "Wh-Why did you stop?" He is panting excessively "What happened to the tuff guy act? Huh Matty? you ask, meeting his gaze directly.

He continues to try to hold himself back, his eyes tightly closed. In all honesty, all you wanted to do was take him right there and then, but you also wanted to tease him a little more before giving in to his demands.

"I've been a good boy, mommy." He begins to cry as a result of you edging him. He has had enough of the agony. He's incredibly eager to cum. "Go have a seat on the bed." You begin to get up and head for the bed, saying, "be a good boy and I'll let you cum." He leaps out of his chair and heads straight for the bed.

He is seated with his back resting on his bed's headboard. Just before he begins to beg you once more. You returning to your task, you stroke as quickly as you can. "Yes, yes mommy. I'm your good boy right?" Tears well up in his eyes. Wiping his tears, you reply, "Yes, my love, you're doing so good for me." "I have to cum! Let me cum, please. Please let me, mommy," he cries, his head thrown back on the board.

"Come on, baby, let it go. I'm right here." You kiss him on the cheek encouraging him to release."Oh my fuck. Shit, shit, shit," he utters as releasing his sperm. He lets go all over his lower abdomen and lies there with a fucked out expression. You slowly stroke his dick a couple of times to ensure that everything comes out. He moans feeling overstimulated.

Worn-out, he murmurs, "I didn't get to give you any pleasure." "It's alright, matty, maybe next time," you reply, kissing his forehead. "Hm, all right. Can you lay with me?" He mumbles and reaches for your waist. You give in and lie down with him, he drifts off right away.

- A

[chartreuxhue]

Takuma Ino - There's two of you!?

Pairing: Takuma Ino x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Not proofread, and first jjk writting(PLZ BE NICE)

Wrote this while being violently homicidal so I hope its sweet and not angry!!!

Your hands were occupied with what seemed more interesting. Your husband was holding a small but nice conversation with Nanami, their voices soft in the background as your eyes followed the string of words that were appearing on the laptop. Fingers typing away like it was your last and final action. It wasn;t a business email, you were responding to an old friend who had moved away and the only way you two keep in touch is through email. It was nice, gave you a chance to actually think about what you wanted to say and how you’ll say it, plus you weren’t spending hours on the phone talking about random things. 

The pitter patter of feet seemed to get louder. The door flew open, and there stood that Itadori boy that Ino talks about all the time. 

“Takuma!” 

Your immediate reaction was to respond. Your mouth moving faster than your brain and typing fingers. 

“Yes?” 

You beat the actual Takuma by answering. All three looking over at you, two in confusion and one with a soft smile on his face. Yuji looked between you and Ino, trying to connect the dots on why you just answered him when he called out to Takuma, not you. You watched the gears in his head turn. Brown eyes darting back and forth. It isn’t until Nanami finally speaks that it clicks for the poor boy. 

“I didn’t know you two were married.” 

His tone was intrigued, when did you two find time to do it. Was it a small ceremony? Courthouse married? Either way he was happy for you two. You watched Ino rub at the back of his neck, looking for some way to explain to Nanami when it happened and why. He’s close to apologizing for not inviting him to the court signing of the document, but he’s interrupted by the surprised Yuji. 

“You two have been dating!” 

You thought his eyes couldn’t get any wider, brown orbs seeming to be larger and larger by the second. You laughed, you thought it was known, but apparently not. How did he not know, your brain thinking back to all the times there was clearly no platonic work interactions between you and Ino. Then again, does Yuji pay attention to things like that, maybe not. Either way, his reactions are entertaining. 

“Of course, not like I haven’t been with her since high school.” 

Ino said, eyes meeting Yuji’s as the boy makes his way to sit down. Acting like a distressed father over this new found information. His eyes latching onto the ground and his hands clasping in his lap. 

How could the boy not notice that his two favorite teachers assistants were dating, let alone get married without his prior knowledge. It’s crazy, actually insane to him. 

“Since high school…” 

He pushes a faux distraught tone. Making that signature distraught Itadori's face. Ino nodded, that same cheerful smile plastered on his face. 

“How long have you two been married?” 

“Not that long.” 

He stuttered off, trying his hardest to remember how long ago that was. 

“We decided the day after we graduated, then we were engaged for a while. So, we’ve only been married for a year.” 

Your words surprised Ino himself, only a year. He feels like he’s called you his wife for all of eternity. You shook your head at him. Holding up your index finger and saying ‘no only one’. You watched as Yuji slowly started to come out of his distraught father's pose. It was coming together, you two were high school sweethearts that were in for the end. So you two haven't been married for years like he thought. He’s now only stuck on the part where you hid the engagement and marriage for so long. It even had Nanami lost, but then again even Nanami has things hidden so he can't be too worried. 

“Well, congrats guys!” 

Yujis demeanor changed, a sparkle in his eyes as he came to the realization. There’s two of you now. 

“Now we have Mrs. and Ms. Takuma. Sweet!”

For @cruivanei - youve spoke of him a few times so here he is :)

[originalaccountname]

There are some posts I've seen floating around that at the start Dazai may not of known that Chuuya wasn't a vampire which I kind of agree with. I'm at work currently so I cant double check but when he goes "that's a nasty trick you've pulled fydor" im pretty sure its in his thoughts?? To which why would he think that if he knew the whole time. I think dazai must of caught onto the fact Chuuya was faking it at somepoint but not sure when that would of been. Also at the end of the ep Dazai said he didn't have a plan. (I did watch the episode at just after 2am my time when it came out and then fell asleep afterwards so my memory could be not correct). I do think chuuya not being a vampire at all is a little disappointing tbh but this idea softens the blow. Would like to know your thoughts on this idea if you are open to sharing?

I'm in that category too, yes. I've left a few tags saying basically the same thing on some posts.

First, there are a few things the anime didn't answer (more than failing to justify Chuuya faking it since the start, there's Sigma's case about needing to help the ADA, which... didn't happen at all) so either we haven't seen the repercussions of this arc yet, or we got the shortened version of what the manga will offer. Which could work either way. (not ideal necessarily, but besides huffing what can we do huh)

Dazai not knowing though! Dazai did admit to his "plan" being to mostly adapt on the fly and trust his allies to help him back. He implied this prison break was one big trust fall. But that's how I've always interpreted Dazai's way of planning! I even made a post about it a full year ago!

Since Dazai knows Chuuya slowed down the elevator (which I can accept, Dazai's ability shouldn't affect random objects he touches, and Fyodor had told Chuuya through a comm to go finish off Dazai because he wasn't in the room), I assume that by then he was aware. Maybe not before though. Definitely not at first. Because this?

I refuse to believe was entirely scripted. Why is he acting? For Sigma? For corpses? I'm of the opinion that no matter what is going on through Dazai's head, his expressions are always genuine (ex: he might react with surprise at something he completely expected, if only because of how sudden it was, or when/how it ended up happening. Here? genuine distress.)

And I extend that feeling to Dazai having an emotional moment, complete with flashbacks, while "drowning" Fyodor and Chuuya. He did say he wasn't expecting to kill them that way, but perhaps it really was a moment of weakness triggered by concern or guilt.

I can accept Dazai having caught on during his face-off with Chuuya. That's Mr I-know-your-breathing-patterns we have here, so if they didn't high-five after the elevator crash-landing (still broke Dazai's leg), I would say Dazai knows physics enough to go "hold on" and connect the dots. So yes, that baiting of Chuuya, the light taunting, the bratty attitude he only really has with Chuuya, the angry YELLING and insults when Chuuya shot him in the shoulder? The destiny talk? Yeah I can re-contextualize those as Dazai over-acting his part. And then not being able to shut up after being shot in the head.

Maybe there's some reaching here, maybe this will not be totally accurate to the source material. But Asagiri does have a habit to write scenes from an outsider pov while knowing whats happening in the characters' heads and behind the scene, but then not give us that input directly. Never before today was it confirmed that Dazai improvises a lot in his plans. And yet! That's something I've believed in for a very long time.

This all could very well be covering Asagiri's poor decisions, but between this being the adaptation and bsd being an unfinished story, I have a hard time deciding at the moment how much of a poor decision this was. Maybe it's worth a raised eyebrow. Maybe it deserves some criticism in hope the author takes notes. Maybe this was an anime-original resolution due to time constraints (think of the Fifteen final fight). I can only raise concerns for now, and wait.

[luveline]

happy 31k, lovely jade♥︎ if it pleases you, could i please request such a strange girl and i need a ride with my love bassist!remus? maybe someone made a comment online about her personality/the way she dresses and she gets really upset and tries changing to be better for remus? up to you though of course lovely

join luveline's halloween party ♡

thank u!! and tysm for ur req ♡ bassist!remus x ditzy!fem!reader

You're crying when Remus gets home. He's only ever seen you cry a handful of times, and each is as achingly awful as the first.

"Dove, what's going on?"

For a moment he worries you're leaving him. You've gathered all your clothes, lots and lots of clothes, your shoes, even your underwear, into a pile on the floor, and are kneeling with a hand pressed to either cheek. But there's no bags being packed, just you and your tears.

"What have you lost?" he asks gently, rounding your pile of things to bend at the waist and steal your face, transference from your hands to his. He thumbs at your cheeks, hot tears kissing his palms. "Don't cry so much, sweetheart, we'll find whatever it is."

You suck in a shaky breath. "I haven't lost anything. M'just- m'just..." Tears pool in your eyes, your eyebrows pulling together in a delicate distress.

Remus still has his bass on his back, the heavy weight of its case pressing into his spine as he drops onto his knees and wipes your fresh tears. He hadn't had time to put it down.

"What's the matter?" he asks, employing his best stern tone.

He finds it very difficult to be stern with you and often times you don't pay any mind anyhow, but your face screws a little tighter and you press your cheek to his hand.

"There's a blog page about me. About my outfits."

His stomach turns into a pit. "Right."

"They said I must be stark-raving mad to dress like this. N' you must be worse, to stay with me."

"Right," he says again. Remus doesn't get very angry these days, but he's propelled toward rage rather quickly at your admission.

"So I'm getting rid of all my weird clothes." Your voice cracks cruelly in the very worst place.

He uses his thumb to guide your chin up. "Dove. Do you like how you dress?"

"I don't want to be weird."

"But do you like how you dress?"

You nod sadly.

"Then you don't have to change."

Your chest heaves with a badly contained sob. Remus shushes you gently and pulls you toward his neck, wrapping a placating arm across the tops of your shoulders to keep you close. He hates how cruel people are, he hates that you've been ridiculed by people who don't know a single thing about you, and he really hates how your shoulders shake under his hands.

"I love how you dress," he murmurs, lips pressed to the top of your head. "Love everything about you."

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why? I just do. I love all your pretty skirts, your blouses, your funny t-shirts." He speaks slowly, letting each declaration sink in before continuing to the next. "I love how weird you can be. Weird isn't bad, it's fun. And on you, it's beautiful."

Your hands grab at his waist familiarly. He loves this, too, the selfish way you hug, how you want to be touching all of his torso at the same time.

"Are you sure?"

He hums. "Mh-hm. Put me on the stand, I'll say the same thing." He kisses the top of your head.

He doesn't suppose his reassurances can erase the humiliation that comes with being a spectacle online like that. He's so mad about it he's trying not to think of it, wondering who he can't talk to about getting stuff like that taken down. Lily will know somebody who knows somebody, but if it happened once it'll happen again.

He waits for you to calm down. He doesn't mind that it takes a long time, that you wind yourself back up midway through, hiding in his hair. When you're mostly quiet, Remus encourages your head back enough to see your tearstained face again.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

You nod and kiss him. It's a very sweet kiss as most of your kisses are, chaste but firm, the dampness on your cheek pressing to his as you push that little bit closer.

"Sorry for making a mess," you apologise.

He frowns at your thick voice. "That's alright," he soothes, hand running down your arm. "But, if you really wanna make it up to me, there's something we can do."

You nod eagerly. That's how you end up in a three hour fashion show, mixing and matching different pieces and styles. Some outfits are surprisingly lovely, some are downright awful.

Remus takes a picture of his favourite ensemble.

It's a biased choice. You're wearing a Marauders t-shirt from the last tour and a midi skirt he adores, your black tights with tiny hearts made of a darker denier hiding underneath. All trace of upset has been erased by an unending wave of praise and stolen kisses. You're beaming.

He posts the photo on his socials with a simple caption, 'stark raving mad about you,' and turns his phone off completely. If anybody needs him, he'll be busy kissing you silly, weird clothes included.

[prince-liest]

I… oh my god. So much. Has happened. Bear… bear with me. This time i KNow its gonna be a long one. First of all, oh my GOD. THERE WAS NO BAD NEWS IN UR LAST ANSWER. HOLY SHIT. I see how i read into ur previous answer, that val is the only dumper, but yes what you described is EXACTLY the same flavor as what I was describing. It also works SO MUCH BETTER, OH MY GOD! “Vox managing to be the one to break things off at any given point in time hinges on him being able to frame his rationale as "anger" rather than "upset," the latter of which just gets brushed under the carpet of Emotions That Are Not Taken Seriously. [...] anything that makes him feel vulnerable or, ah, let's deliberately and pointedly use the word hysterical, is a pre-existing internal struggle that Valentino knows how to manipulate to his advantage. [and vox does not break up with val when he feels as such]” PRINCE IM RIPPING MY FUCKING HAIR OUT!!!!!!!!!!!! THTAS. THATS EXACTLY WHAT TF IM TALKING ABOUT. You just clarified that extra layer of “oh my god this is fucking perfect.’ also. ALSO. them getting back together being sappy makeup sex…. Oh my god. Oh my dear god. If it wasnt clear, i am a Heathen for voxval, too. If you ever feel inspired to write a voxval fic i promise you my firstborn. 

OHHHHHH  MY GOD IM SO HAPPY MY RAMBLINGS HELPED YOU WITH THE FIC!!!!!! TBH IVE RARELY BEEN THIS OVERJOYED. LIKE I COULDNT STOP GRINNING AND GIGGLING WHEN I SAW IT. FUCKKKKK. Also im fucking cackling that my actual impact was bringing vox to severe distress instead of a more angry and annoyed disposition. Like yeah,,.. Im here to make you suffer, baby. LOVE YOU VOX! 

Im gonna leave my thoughts for actual fic for another ask bc… yeah. I will spare you. - 🌓

Do NOT spare me, I enjoy these immensely. >:) Proof:

Very genuinely, I had kinda been squinting at the actual scene in question with dissatisfaction for a hot minute, so I was very pleased when your ask made it click to me what the fuck felt so wrong about it. So thank you!

Staticmoth is definitely percolating in my brain and I want to write something for them because, like you, I am also indeed deeply invested in them (they are my favorite ship very much alongside radiostatic, which is probably not obvious given I haven't written anything actively centered around them - but they're like the fucked up, evil version of MHA erasermic for me in this fandom because they Must be present in the narrative and also I love them). I haven't had any specific ideas good enough to turn into a fic yet, but I might just mash them all together at some point or, y'know. Go the Good Olde [insert wanking hand motion here] route!

[lunar-rcp]

The justice that lies within my heart

☆ . .Tags: descriptive injury, swearing

For some reason tumblr didn't add my oneshot to the rcp tag, so repost it is..

“You all must know why you're here, right?” Jin started the conversation with a dull tone, spinning her chair around to face the others.

“Yes, we do know.” Poli spoke out. He furrowed his eyebrows at the situation that had recently unfolded into chaos, the harmony of Brooms Town shattered like a broken mirror. As well as everyone's trust in each other.

Recently, there were over a dozen reports of monster trucks invading the town, causing harm & distrust to the Broomstown's citizens. And every time the rescue team had gave all their efforts to put a stop to them and bring justice to the town,

It just didn't work out.

Jin sighed in distress. “God, this is giving me a miragine!” The inventor slammed her hand against the desk, rubbing her forehead temples with the other. “We've been at this for weeks, and yet we're still unable to catch the crook!” Jin tightened her fist into a ball. “Those damn monster trucks, oh I will absolutely beat the livi–”

“Jin!” Amber exclaimed. “I get that you're angry, but we shouldn't attack with offense! We need to lay low.” Amber pointed her wheel at the board with collected information they gathered over the weeks. “We know they have a base at this point, so we need to form a plan.” Amber turned her head towards the police car, raising her eyebrow.

“Hm,” Poli hummed. “I have already constructed a plan as you can see.” Poli had transformed and walked towards the bullet point board, pointing his finger at a specific hand written letter in the middle. “I have decided that we have no choice but to invade their base and arrest them on the spot.” His voice was stern, yet layers of a worrying tone were hidden beneath that serious expression of his. He was worried.

What if the plan doesn't go as intended?

What if someone gets hurt, and it is his fault for his poor reckless leadership skills?

But he didn't have the time to feel sorry for himself. He had to protect the team, even if he had to sacrifice himself for his own plans.

They were his friends– No, his family. A family he cherished more than any treasure can do.

Poli brushed his thoughts off. “So, do you agree?”

“Right!” The others exclaimed, their expressions shaped just like their leader's.

“Then let's get to it.”

The team stood dumbfounded right in front of the base where the monster trucks had been staying. Saying that it was big was an understatement.

“It's.. huge..” Roy muttered out, his mouth slightly agape.

“And it's hidden so deep into the forest.. No wonder we had a hard time trying to search their base..” Amber sighed.

“How are we going to tackle this, Poli?! Just look at all those metal doors protecting the place!” Helly said with a groan, crossing his arms.

“Don't worry, Helly.” Poli drew a long sigh, but then a grin painted onto his face. “There might be all this protection in front of our eyes, but maybe there's a secret passageway we just haven't discovered.” Poli turned to Helly. “Helly, could you scan the area to see if there is a way for us to get in?” Helly nodded to Poli's request. “Roger that, Poli!”

Helly flew up to get a clearer view of the base. It did really look bigger now that he was up in the sky.

“Woah, it's so huge just like Roy said!” The helicopter pulled out his detector, scanning the area to see if anything was of use to get them in.

Bingo. A loose roof panel was enough to fit one of them in.

Poli's transmitter beeped. “Yes, Helly? Did you find anything?” Poli itched for an answer. He had to put a stop to this. He was the leader, he needed to bring peace to his town.

“Well, I found something.. but,” Helly's tone saddened. “It's only enough to fit one of us in! If we all go in together, it will be just an entire mes–”

“Then I'll go.” Poli immediately said, not even letting Helly finish off his sentence. This caused surprise to the others, as well as concern.

“What?!” Roy exclaimed with a gasp. “Are you sure, Poli? What if you get hurt?” Roy frowned. “Don't worry, Roy.” Poli assuringly smiled at the both who stood next to him. “I'm the leader, I'll protect all of you no matter the circumstances.”

“Oh Poli, you truly have a heart of gold.” Amber said with a warming smile, to which Roy also nodded with the same expression. “Yes, she's quite right.”

“It's nothing.” Poli lightly chuckled. “You two try to break the security's system, alright? And on my mark, you'll corner them along with Helly.”

“Got it! Good luck, Poli!” The two gave determined looks before running off to break open the system.

“This will be tough..” Poli couldn't help but gulp. But no time to chicken out.

“I can do this.”

Poli set out a recuse line towards the base's roof, attaching it to the edge. With slow movements, he began to climb up towards the top of the base.

“Poli!” Helly flew towards him. “I heard from Roy and Amber you're gonna go down there alone, please tell me– Are you going to be alright?!” The young helicopter's tone was drowned in worry. Poli was like a brother to him, and just thinking about the time where he saved him from the ravine made his heart sink to think what could happen to him.

“I'll be fine, Helly. You just keep watch to see if any of them go out from the base, okay?”

“Alright.. I'll trust you.” Helly spoke with a small smile.

“Great.” Poli returned the same smile.

Poli walked towards the loose roof panel, shoving it away with ease to invite himself in. For a base hidden away like this, things are sure easy to break.

Poli attached his rope to the roof's edge once again. He then slowly guided himself into the base.

“Huh.” Poli inspected his surroundings, there were dozens of wires loosely scattered around the floors and tvs hanging onto the walls. On the tvs it displayed the town. The town looked nearly like an abandoned one from your typical horror film; It was empty. There was no life spewing from it anymore. All of the citizen's wouldn't dare to even take a step outside, they were all terrified.

Poli felt his anger bubble only more, not even Shakespeare could use words to describe his infuriation.

Why would someone do this? To his town?

Why didn't they bother to just leave peace to the town and continue their day like no other?

And yet, they decide to cause havoc and break that peace.

He was so, so angry.

He couldn't even find the answer to his own questio–

What was that?

Poli swept his questions away from his mind. No way did the universe decide to mess with him now, or did he just hear distant chattering ringing in his ear?

“Wow, we really scared those idiots off, didn't we?” A monster truck laughs iniquitously. A laugh that only added to Poli's anger.

“We really did! And that idiotic rescue team has been trying to catch us for weeks! No luck for them, hah!” Another truck spoke in the same brattish tone.

Poli gritted his teeth. “Oh, just you wait.” Then, his transmitter went off.

“Poli! We have managed to break open the system! We are now currently hiding behind a wall!” Amber spoke. “Good job, I'm just right beside the room they're in. On my mark, we will back them into a corner.” Poli's voice was strict.

“Got it!” Roy & Amber exclaimed in unison.

Poli took slow steps over the wires, careful not to trip over them. It looked like he was just a door away from them, as the chattering got louder with each step he took.

There he stood, just in front of the door. All he had to do was to kick it open and arrest them on the spot. To bring justice and peace once again.

With a deep sigh, he turned his transmitter on to contact the others. “Alright. On the count of 3, we will barge.” He whispered softly, careful to not be heard by the monster trucks.

“Three,” Poli took a step back, preparing himself for anything that could happen.

“Two,” He then reached for his gun attached to his leg to protect himself.

“One.”

Poli kicked open the door with his foot, jumping into the room with his gun in hand.

“Freeze! Stop what you're doing right now!” Poli's sudden yell startled the two monster trucks, putting their malicious chattering to a stop.

“Don't think you're alone with him either!” Roy shouted, his usual calm demeanor was no more. Amber was right beside him, correcting her position to defensive stance.

“Shit–!” A monster truck cursed. “Damn it, they got in!”

“Damn right we are!” Poli reached out for his handcuffs, ready to apprehend the two until–

A loud bang echoed through the room.

Everything went quiet for the police. The constant irritating buzzing from computers, the shouting that escalated from the situation, the dangling metal noises that his handcuffs made when in contact;

All those noises died down.

Poli slowly lifted his head up to face Roy and Amber. Did they also lose their hearing temporarily from the loud noise? He was worried. What if they got hurt?

He was only met with their eyes widening as they stared back in a freezing state. Amber couldn't help but cover her mouth with her hands. Her hands were slightly shaking, Poli noted.

Roy stumbled back, his eyes more widened than Amber's. Did something startle him? Poli asked himself.

That was until a peculiar sound faded back into Poli's ear. Ah, he could hear again!

However, that sound wasn't a pleasant one.

A dripping one, to be exact.

Drip, drip.. drip..

That was until it clicked.

Drip.. drip, drip..

Poli hesitantly looked towards the ground. Small, black oil droplets stained the cold metal floors of the base.

Blood?

His eyes lifted from the ground, slowly averting themselves towards the source of where this blood could be coming from.

My.. shoulder?

Poli gently placed his hand onto his shoulder for mere seconds before steadily bringing his hand out to himself.

His hand.. painted in a jet black smudge.

Did.. I get shot?

And finally, he looked back to his shoulder.

No way, it can't be.

He had been shot by a human behind him; supposedly the monster truck's leader. That was nice to know, he should note that for further investigation.

Wait, why was his mind drifting off? Shouldn't he be focusing on his wound?

Poli continuously stared at his shoulder. Blood was oozing out of his shoulder, it dripped from his shoulder to all the way towards the ground. Poli cringed at the sight.

Strangely enough, it didn't hurt. Not even a slight sting. Was that from shock?

And then, everything went black.

As his eyesight darkened, he could hear Amber and Roy screaming his name.

Their screams slowly muffled down, until it was quiet once again.

Was this his end?

Had he at least led a good team?

He didn't know.

He was awoken by a sharp, terrible pain.

“Agh,” Poli hissed. This.. hurt.. a lot.

Poli's eyelids slowly opened, his view being met by red, pink, green, and orange blurs prancing around.

Muffled terrified, worried, and sobbing noises ringed in his ear.

“He's waking up!” Jin gasped.

“Poli!!” The other three exclaimed with worry.

“Mm.. a–agh,” He tried to speak, but only groaning came out of his mouth. “H–Huh?.. Y–You..” It was hard to talk. The pain was unbearable. “Guys..? It– pain..”

“It's gonna be okay.” Amber spoke with a concerned yet calm tone. “I know it does, but the bullet has already been taken out. You will be okay, Poli.”

“A–Are..” Poli stumbled over his words. “You– guys– Alright?.. W–What about the–”

“We caught them, Poli.” Roy softly smiled at him. “We got them. There's now peace in this town, and it's all thanks to you.”

“T–That's.. great, you guys. I'm so proud of you.” Poli finally could muster up a full coherent sentence.

“Poli!” Helly sobbed, clutching the blue sheets of his bed with a grip. “Y–You're okay! I thought you were a goner! You were shot!” Helly sniffed, tears were rolling down from his frame.

“I see,” Poli frowned. He was somewhat thankful for only being shot in the arm, as it could be so much worse. But the pain was still booming. “Thanks to you guys, I was fine.” Poli slowly reached out his other arm to pat Helly on his head to comfort him.

“We'll take care of you, Poli.” Roy still maintained that soft smile. Something Poli grew quite fond of. “Just like you did for us.”

“I'm glad I was able to bring justice to our town.” Poli grinned. “But, I suppose I need a break for now.. don't I?”

“You sure do,” Amber answered. “But we'll all take care of you.”

“We promise. Thank you, Poli.”

Poli softly chuckled at their appreciation.

“You're welcome.”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Word count: 2.222 words

longest oneshot ever.. my hands hurt eugh..

Request by @gukul , sorry for the double @ lol tumblr was being mean

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

Super Strength

Author's Note: Please feel free to imagine whichever spiderman you like best; I myself referred to Toby as Pete and Tom H. as Peter. Also, I do not own the amazing fan art.

Warnings: Restraints, Dom Peter, Rough sex, Squirting, Hands-free ejaculation

I know the cuffs won't hold Peter, that they haven't been the entire half an hour he's been restrained. His spiderman suit pools at his feet, not having a moment to completely take it off. Peter's cheeks are flushed the prettiest mixture between red and pink; his bottom lip a bit swollen from him constantly nipping at it in frustration. The smallest dab of drool dots the corner of his gagged mouth. Poor boy's dick is beyond hard, tip lookin angry as fuck as it leaks like a faucet down his shaft and I can't help but to appreciate the sheer willpower he must be exuding.

Even while I'm whining at my current predicament, I hear the wood arms of the chair protest as my desperate boyfriend leans in closer to the scene in front of him. My hands are tied together at the wrists with web that suspends from the ceiling, keeping my arms extended upward. Speared ontop my other Spider's cock while he lays supine, naked besides my lace thong dangling around my ankle, I hold eye contact with our cuffed lover as I'm fucked within an inch of my life. My juicy brown titties flop and jump unrestrained and I know it drives my men crazy.

"Fuu-huck Pete! Posed ta teeeach em, nooo AH! Not puh-unish meee!" I moan and squeal and he slows his rough raging fucking to a crawl. A firm gripping squeeze on each thigh has me blinking the tears outta my eyes to look down at the man rearranging my insides.

"Sorry sweetheart." Pete starts, not sounding the least bit fuckin sorry.

Peter snorts from behind the makeshift gag, clearly sharing my sentiment. Still he's sweaty and appears disheveled as he watches Pete bury his elongated cock into my soaked fluttering core. The way his eyes dart across my body frantically only to land and stare at the gushing pink of my insides being willingly violated. The chair creaks once more as he unconsciously leans closer again, muscles in his shoulders flexing from the restraint he exhibits.

"If Peter wants proof that you're our pretty little slut that loves to be dicked down using our super strength, I feel... Obligated to show him."

The smile on Pete's face is vicious as looks over at our poor distressed horny ass victim. He's still dipping inside my drippin pussy with casual shallow stokes, creamy wetness trickling down my fat ass cheeks to soak our sheets with every pull out.

"Watch and learn baby boy, she gushes so much when I give her all of it. Love watching her gushy little puss give me what I want. Feel soooo good when she clenches around meee." Pete finishes with a moan as the firm grip on my thighs moves to my curvy hips.

His thrusting speeds to a short quick gratingly deep fuck and I can't help tossing my head back and cry out at the sudden change in pace. The wet smacking of his veined rigid long cock ramming me makes my clit throb harder.

"Ye-eeees, yesyesyes, YES!!" My uncontrollable moaning melody ends in wordless wails as Pete tilts his hips and pounds up into me. It's absolutely clear that my Pete is gone and it's Spiderman here now, fucking me like an animal in heat. He uses his hold on my waist as leverage, forcing me to ride him at his speed. My body slumps just a bit before I become limp; I feel like nothing more than a doll made for his satisfaction; only thing is he wouldn't dream of cumming until after guiding me through my pleasure.

"Fuck, you jus gonna let me- DAMMIT! Jus have you like this? God so gooood, c-can't even bother to put a fight. Too fucked out, tongue hangin out. Fuck, ah ah ahhhhh.." His insidious glee in destroyin me tapers off into thunderous whiny moans.

A drip of drool runs from my tongue down my chin as I bask in utter pleaurable delight. His hands leave my waist, one to flick my pulsating clit firm and fast as the other repeatedly strikes my coffee colored plump cheeks. I can hear my other Peter's breathing get heavier as Pete does the impossible and digs deeper, fucking me so rapidly. The wet smacking sound of our coupling adding to the notion that this only ends after I'm bred. I shake, twist and shriek at the intense orgasm rushing towards me.

A scrape comes from the chair beside the bed as Peter snatches his wrist from the arms of the chair with concerened eyes, cuffs immediately hitting floor with a thud while he simultaneously reaches for the gag and tries to stand. Pete's quicker though and an arm shoots out to web Peter's wrist AND ankles to the chair, all the while still fuckin up into me without losing a beat. An indignant huff leaves Peter but he doesn't resist.

"Don't fret, Spiderman. Uhn, uuuuhn.. Our girl looooves this. Fuuuuuuck, don't you sweetheart?" Pete grits out, groans peppering every other word.

Unyielding slaps replace the stroking on my throbbing little button and I'm a goner. With eyes squeezed shut, and loud stuttering gasps of 'Pete' and 'Peter' my tight little puss clenches hard around the cock trying to pierce my guts. I don't feel the tears streaming down my face as I splash Pete with a dose of gushing cream on the fourth slap to my clit. White specks dot behind my close lids when a particularly forceful stream jets against the lengthy dick in my tummy trying to force him out.

"Shiiiiit, can barely moooove.." Pete's groaning and huffing as the rhythm of his fuckin becomes jerky and off beat.

With eyes blown wide staring at were we connect, his hips make small circles as he tries to stuff his dick in my guts. With a low 'Fuuuuuuuck', Pete hastily pulls his cock out to spray up my tummy, large globs of cum shower my tits only to drip off my sensitive stiff nipples. I feel the warmth of it run down my sweaty torso as I hiccup, trying to catch my breath. The rooms silent besides heavy breathing before Peter speaks up.

"Can some one let me loose?" He asks after spitting out his gag, refusing to make eye contact. His are cheeks more red now than our entire session. Peter wiggles his wrists, emphasizing for one of us to free him. I really take him in, scanning his chiseled chest before landing on his softening dick covered in thick creamy spurts of his cum. He came UNTOUCHED! And there so fucking much of it..

"Help? Hmmm.." I pretend to think about it, lifting Pete's chin to look at our embarrassed boyfriend and he smirks once he notices the cum slowly dripping from Peter's dick to the floor.

"Don't you have super strength too?" I ask with an evil giggle and villainous intent.

[secretblogofdog]

I pull out of you with a satisfied grin, feeling you already swell up by the passing second. You'll have my baby breaking you any second now, and it'll be delicious to watch you as you birth right here in front of me. "I hope you're ready, darling, this is going to hurt."

(As a general warning, reminder that this is a long and painful birth. If discussions of distress during birth trigger you, maybe skip this one <3)

Labor starts one hour after these potions kick in, so I barely get any rest at all. I wake to a deeply uncomfortable aching in my stomach, and look down to see my belly an angry red with stretch marks. My chest, flattened out by surgery, has grown again slightly, tips leaky with milk. The baby is big and it's in just the right spot to stretch me the most. I groan slightly and look around for you, and not seeing you immediately, try to sit up.

And that's when the first contraction hits. I scream, the force of my body ramming my baby into my unprepared cervix sending shocks up my spine for minutes afterward. Gestation may have only taken an hour, but labor? I have no idea how long I'll be here. And judging by the pain, it's going to be some time.

I can feel the tension wrap around my abdomen with each contraction, my eyes wide. "No, no, nonononoNNNNNH--" I wail, praying that my body listens and stops pushing, I'm not ready. I try to stick my fingers inside to check and cringe, my cervix already sensitive.

Hours later, I'm still in the throes of the first stage. I'm cold with old sweat and my face is soaked in tears and snot. My throat is hoarse from crying, and I haven't yet been fully able to peel off the clothes I foolishly tried to put on twenty minutes in. Like I was going to make it to the hospital.

Finally, I begin to feel the baby drop into my canal. "S--ss-sstretching me, oh, god," I whimper, voice half gone. "Full, full, too much, too much--" my voice cracks and I choke back a sob, dedicating my energy to pushing. The contraction fades and I go nearly limp for a moment before pushing out of turn, trying so desperately for this to all be over. "Stop it, stop it, please, please just get out of me," I plead with my little one, white-knuckling the counter as I bear down again. With each completed contraction, I feel the baby slide backwards, and this marathon birthing only drags on.

I saw the sun set before I had that potion. It's now midday and I'm not even bulging yet. My legs have gone numb with the tension as I try fruitlessly to push more. I don't dare try to press on my stomach with my hands--I don't want to hurt the baby, even as its progress is tearing me apart--but I feel like I'm losing this battle.

Finally, blissfully, I feel my vulva start to stretch as the baby's head flattens my G-spot. I buck my hips in exhausted bliss, happy for the stimulation, if only for a moment. It took long enough to get this baby past my pelvis, and now I have to get it out of my cunt. I bend over, grip the towel I somehow managed to grab yesterday, and push for everything I have. My labia part as the head becomes visible for a moment, then it slips back in. I wail and try again. There it is. And it's gone. And there it is. And it's gone. There it iIIIIIIS--

I scream again as the weight of the baby hits my reddened vulva and stretches it out obscenely, two, three, four, five, seven inches out from its resting place. I shiver and reach down to feel it. "H-hi," I breathe, before pushing again. Nothing. My labia is almost white, the force and the stretch pushing all the blood out of it. "Stop, stop, please, just get out, just--just get--" I sob and push fruitlessly, the burning sensation becoming almost all I can feel.

At this point, I'm starting to get worried for the baby's safety. It's two hours past sunset again, and my water hasn't even broken by this point. I reach down to feel the sac, my vulva still engorged with the crown, and resolve myself. I'm either going to get this baby out now or it's going to be all over.

So I squat on shaky, unforgiving legs, grip the counter, and push. I tense my whole body, from shoulders to chest to belly and try to squeeze this child, your child, this huge, massive, painful, beautiful creature out, it's coming out, it's comi

(CW: upcoming mention of prolapse. The baby and I are fine, if you want to stop here :>)

You find me passed out on the floor, clammy, exhausted beyond belief, with my cunt turned inside out and twitching slightly, an angry, painful red, with your precious baby suckling at my meager chest without a care in the world.

Somewhere in my nearly-dreamless sleep, I think about doing it all again.

[mediocre-quill-ink]

Pricks aren't just for plants

An: I needed a plant related sex joke. I'm sorry, that was the best I could come up with

Summary: Ralph is touch starved. After confessing his confusing and overwhelming needs, you help relieve the tension

Content: Ralph's first time, general smuttieness. Ending was a little rushed. No other warnings that I can think of

"Y/n?"

"Yes, Sweets?" I looked up to see Ralph, he was standing in the door frame fidgiting his hands, looking down. He seemed anxious, far more than usual. "Is everything alright?" He looked up at me before his eyes shooting back down to the floor. "Ralph would like t-to talk if that's alright." I set down my phone. "Of corse, honey. Sit down." I cooed. I felt alarmed. Ralph is a pretty anxious guy, more than most but I haven't seen him like this for a while. Something must be wrong.

He took a seat next to me, still fidgiting with his hands. "What's wrong?" I asked, tilting my head slightly. He seemed to tense at the question. "R-Ralph as been having some issues lately." He whispered, the faux lungs rising and falling in his plastic chest. My eye brows knit slightly. "What do you mean?" He quickly glanced around the room before continuing. "Ralph has been feeling..." his led swirled, seemingly trying to gather words before continuing, "uncomfortable, restless... empty?" I nodded softly, confusion continuing to manifest in me.

Now that I think about it for the past few weeks, Ralph has been acting stranger than usual. He's become more angry at the little things, minor inconveniences. He's also been, not strange, but... different when we're together. Longing stares, kisses made longer and longer, oftentimes when cuddling or watching TV together, he's been shifting around with discomfort a lot.

Oh my God

"Ralph, can you explain these feelings more to me?" I had a feeling i knew what was going on here, but i needed some clarification. He hesitated, his led swirling quickly, "at first, t-these feelings were more like background noise to Ralph, coming in here and there randomly. it was uncomfortable, but Ralph could handle it. But... the feelings kept growing more and more intense for him. And they wouldn't go away. They won't go away, and... Ralph doesn't know what to do." He finally made eye contact, he looked... desperate. I pressed my lips together and nodded, my heart thumped against my chest.

I felt bad for the guy, really I do but a part of me felt flattered.

"Do you know what triggers these emotions?" I whispered, I already had a feeling what he'd say, but a perverted part of me wanted to hear it. At that, Ralph tensed again. Thinking. Then, his Adam's Apple bobbed, "Ralph doesn't think you want to hear it." He shook his head in embarrassment. I carefully reached out to hold his hand. "Ralph, I need to know what triggers these emotions so I can help you." His shoulders rose in anxiety, trying to calm down. "These feelings get worse and worse when Ralph is around you. But- but it makes Ralph want to be around you more, and... Ralph is not sure why...." He looked down at his lap with shifting eyes, squeezing my hand.

I swallowed hard. My heart sunk at the pure confusion he showed. "Ralph?" I whispered quieter than before. "Yes?" He asked softly. "What do these emotions make you want?" His led began to spin between to yellow, a blue tent growing on his cheeks. "Ralph wants to feel..." There was a long pause, again trying to find the right words,"you." He finally confessed, a tense and breathy word. "Your warmth, softness. Cuddling won't help Ralph. No, that doesn't help. Cuddling doesn't help Ralph. Ralph doesn't know why..." Another one of his rants started. They happen when he's in distress.

I squeezed his hand, trying to snap him out of it. "Ralph." I urged softly. He had no reaction. "Ralph doesn't understand. Cuddling isn't helping Ralph. Why isn't it helping Ralph?" He continued. I slowly moved my other hand onto his cheek, fingers tapping him slightly. "Ralph. I think I know what's going on here. But I need you to listen to me, ok? I need you to talk." Slowly, his rant came to a stop, though now he was bouncing his leg very quickly.

"I just want to start by saying I appreciate you coming to me and talking to me about this. Thank you." He nodded, and I continued. "Ralph, I think what you're feeling is lust. Your longing for a deeper intimacy, right?" He nodded."Yes. I need it." He whispered. I took a moment to think before continuing.

I wanted to ease his pain. Clearly, this feeling has been bothering him for a long time, but if he could barely define the feeling, it feels a little wrong to have sex with him.

"Do you want to have sex with me?" I asked with caution, "yes. Yes, Ralph does." He began to nod with a sudden confidence, a definition to what he wanted. "Ralph. If you want... I can help. But if you feel uncomfortable or want me to stop at all, let me know, ok? Just tell me what to do. Do you want me to help you?" He nodded aggressively. "Yes. Yes, Ralph wants that."

I took a deep breath and finally begain. I leaned in to give him a soft kiss. Then another. Then another. He raised one of his hands to tangle into my hair. His grasp was soft, but I could feel him holding back a strength. He quickly began to deepen the kiss, making it last longer, then longer, then longer than that. My heart began to race, I removed my hand from the grasp of his and moved it up to caress his neck. The synthetic skin has always felt strange to me. So human but... not quite. It wasn't a feeling that I disliked, but the differences were there.

As our lips meshed together, his hands began to explore my body. He started with slow and curious movements, fingers gently making contact with the small of my back, under my shirt, then sliding up my spine. I hummed with delight at his curious actions.

Ralph kept trying to make each kiss last longer than the one before it until I couldn't breathe. He always chaced my lips as I pulled away. I realized he was starting to get carried away, so I began to plant kisses elsewhere. On his chin, across his jaw, down to his throat. His synthetic vocal cords vibrated against my lips when he finally let out a soft moan. "Do you like this?" I whispered, moving my hands slowly to his back. "Yes." He breathed. I planted another kiss on where the soft muscle would be. Then another. I finally opened my mouth and licked slowly. He let out another moan.

My hands trailed across his back, inching their way down until I reached his ass. I tried to get a full grasp but it's hard to when he's sitting down. "Ralph, can you lean into me really quick?" I breathed. He nodded, putting pressure on his feet just slightly enough for me to place my full hands on his behind. I quickly lifted Ralph from off the couch and planted him on my lap. The sudden movement alarmed Ralph, causing him to shout. "It's alright, Ralph," I whispered "I just needed to move you." I planted another kiss on his neck, now sucking gently at the fake skin.

I moved one of my hands to hook into the front of his pants, giving him time to tell me to stop if he needed to. Then I continued, slowly unbuttoned the material. He rubbed against me in response, letting out another whine. "There." He gasped. I looked up, he looked desperate. "Toutch Ralph there." I hurried unbottoning, and he lifted his hips off my lap, allowing me to pull them down. His cock quickly prung out of his pants, a sigh of relief imminated from his throat.

He was big. Nothing shocking, but he was just above average and had a nice curve. His tip was a swollen reddish purple color and shiny with precum. "Please." He whimpered. He looked like he was in pain. As much as I wanted to tease him more, this was clearly an issue that needed to be resolved now. "Please- touch Ralph. It hurts."

"Get ready, I'm gonna lift you again." I mumbled. I swiftly wrapped my arms around him and placed Ralph beneath me, I pressed his body against the cushions and ripped off his pants as quick as I could and finally strattled his waist, hovering my hips above Ralph. I sunk down his length, causing him to let out a sharp, almost pained gasp. I settled on his hips, our skin touching. "Are you alright, Ralph?" I asked softly.

His eyes were foggy as he rested his hands on my hips, I could feel him twitching inside of me. "R-ralph is fine." He gasped. Fuck, he really was toutch starved and clearly wasn't going to last long. I sat there, giving him a moment to adjust.

I took one of his hands resting on my hip and held it, intertwining my fingers with his. "You're vary warm." He trembled. "Yeah?" I ask, smiling. "Yes. Ralph likes it." I squeezed his hand, "Are you ready for me to start moving?" He nodded.

I began by rolling my hips against his, slowly, causing him to press his head against the pillow, shuttering. How long has he been desperately waiting for this? How long has he been sexuality frustrated and not knowing what to do? He was so sensitive. "Does that feel good?" I whispered, using one of my hands to slowly trail up his stomach. He nodded again, shuttered breaths, leaving his lips.

God he looked so cute. Whatever was on his mind beforehand was gone now, he was completely taken over by pleasure. I leaned down, pressing my chest against his as I left soft kisses across his throat. I could hear his cooling system at work, moters humming ever so slightly to heave the overheating air out of him. And his thirium pump hummed against my chest. His hand that rested on my hip made its way up my back as I continued to plant gentle kisses, his throat vibrating now and then with a pleased hum or whimper.

I began to lift my hips slowly before sinking down again, moving up and down his length carefully. He let out a shocked moan as I did so, I placed a final kiss before sitting up straight again, continuing this new pace. "How does that feel?" I whispered, taking hold of Ralph's hand again. He was squeezing it softly. "G-good." He choked. Whatever attempts he had at holding back moans began to crumble because he became a whimpering mess very quickly, lewd desperate sounds spilling from his lips. He was crumbling fast.

I picked up the pase

He made an almost sobbing sound. "Please." He whimpered. Led flickering yellow. "Yes?" I hummed. "R-ralph is getting..." He couldn't finish the sentence, another spill of soft moans leaving his lips. "Are you close?" He nodded again, pressing his lips together. I kept my pace, and his end neared quickly.

I could feel Ralph's thighs fleaxing beneath me, then the twitching inside me started again, then the warmth. Ralph choked out an almost pained sound as he reached his climax, using his free hand to press my hips against his.

"Are you alright, love?" I whispered, cupping his cheek. "Yes. Ralph feels good." I smiled, leaning down to give a soft kiss "good" I whispered against his lips, then pulled back. "Did this help your 'issue'?" "Yes, you helped Ralph a lot." I couldn't help but feel the smile growing ever so slightly. "Good."

[unforgivenn]

UUUU id be curious to see the "You can scream all you want" prompt from the bthb!!! <3

Decided to do this for Noah baby because I haven't played with him for a long time :)

SHACKLED BY ROYALTY MASTERLIST

CW: Violence, suicidal thoughts, abuse, dehumanizing words, psychological and physical torment, emotional distress

Noah lay on the cold stone floor, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to catch his breath. He knew Andrey would be here soon, and the fear gnawed at his insides like a ravenous beast. He had messed up again, made a mistake that would cost him dearly. His hands trembled as he wiped away the tears that blurred his vision.

The door creaked open, and Noah's heart skipped a beat. Andrey stepped inside, his face a mask of cold fury. He shut the door behind him, the sound echoing through the room like the tolling of a death knell.

Noah tried to stand, but his legs were weak, and he stumbled, falling back to the floor. He looked up at Andrey, his eyes wide with fear. "P-please, Andrey," he stammered, his voice barely more than a whisper.

As if with lightning speed, Andrey slapped Noah across the face, harder than he had ever been before. He fell down on the hard tiles making him scream. He felt as if his nose was broken. The way it started bleeding now probably meant it did.

"How many times?" Andrey interrupted, as he lifted Noah up by the hair forcing eye contact.

Noah's heart sank. What was he saying?

"H-Huh?"

Irritation was obvious through Andrey's face. Another slap connected with his cheek, and the sheer intensity of it made his ears ring. "How many fucking times have I told you to call me 'sir'? A child would've understood by now!"

Noah's mind raced. "I'm sorry, sir," he managed to choke out.

"Shut up! And that's not even it, you know?! It's as if no matter how much I try to go easy on you, you just fucking keep disobeying me. But no more of it now." Noah flinched violently from the anger in Andrey's voice. He had never seen him this angry.

Andrey took a step closer, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic light. "You think you can disobey me and get away with it, pet?" he snarled. "You think your pathetic excuses will save you?"

Noah shook his head frantically, his body trembling. "No, Sir, please... I'll do better, I swear..."

Andrey's fist came down hard, striking Noah across the face. The force of the blow sent him sprawling to the ground, his head ringing with pain.

"Pathetic," Andrey spat.

He wasn't so sure why that had made him cry. He had taken much worse. So why.. like this..?

Noah tasted blood in his mouth, the coppery tang mixing with the salt of his tears. He tried to push himself up, but Andrey was on him in an instant, kicking him in the ribs. The pain was excruciating, a white-hot explosion that left him gasping for breath.

"Get up," Andrey commanded, his voice like ice.

Noah struggled to his feet, his body screaming in protest. He stood there, swaying unsteadily, his eyes locked on Andrey's, pleading silently for mercy. But there was none to be found in those cold, dark eyes.

Andrey grabbed him by the collar, lifting him off the ground and slamming him against the wall. "You always think you can get away with whatever you do, don't you?" he hissed, his breath hot against Noah's face.

Noah's vision blurred with tears as he shook his head violently, as if that would stop the cruel torment.

But Andrey wasn't listening. He drew back his fist and punched Noah in the stomach, driving the air from his lungs. Noah doubled over, gasping for breath, but Andrey didn't give him a chance to recover. He punched him again, and again, each blow sending waves of agony through Noah's body.

"Beg," Andrey demanded, his voice cold and hard. "Beg for mercy, you worthless little worm."

Noah fell to his knees, his body wracked with pain. "Please," he gasped, his voice hoarse and desperate. "Please, sir, I-I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."

And he was sorry. He hated how much he wanted to crawl at Andrey's feet, he hated how he meant every word he said, he hated that he wanted beg for mercy. He hated He hated He hatedhehatedhehated-

God, he hated himself.

Andrey kicked Noah in the chest, sending him sprawling to the floor. Noah curled up into a ball, trying to protect himself from the blows, but it was no use. Andrey was relentless, his fists and feet a blur of motion as he rained down blow after blow.

Noah's world was a haze of pain and fear, his mind a chaotic jumble of thoughts.

Why? Why was this happening? What had he done to deserve such cruelty? He had wondered that a lot of times but there was never any answer expect pain pain pain and pain.

He could hear the sickening crunch of bone, feel the searing pain of torn flesh, but it was the terror that consumed him, the knowledge that there was no escape, no salvation.

Noah's voice was a broken sob as he pleaded. "Please, please... oh god.."

But Andrey's rage was unquenchable. He grabbed Noah by the hair, yanking him to his feet and slamming him against the wall again. Noah's head cracked against the stone, a sharp pain shooting through his skull. He felt dizzy, his vision swimming, but Andrey didn't give him a moment's respite.

He punched Noah in the face, the force of the blow snapping his head back. Noah's nose exploded with pain, blood gushing down his face. He tried to scream, but no sound came out, only a strangled cry.

Andrey's hands were everywhere, grabbing, hitting, hurting. He punched Noah in the stomach, kicked him in the ribs, slapped him across the face. Noah's body was a canvas of pain, every nerve on fire, every movement a fresh wave of agony.

Noah's world was a blur of pain and fear. He could barely think, barely breathe, his body a mass of bruises and broken bones. He tried to scream, to beg for mercy, but his voice was a hoarse whisper, lost in the storm of Andrey's rage.

Andrey grabbed him by the throat, lifting him off the ground and slamming him against the wall. Noah's vision covered with black spots, his breath cut off, the pain a white-hot explosion that consumed him.

"You will-"

Fuck. He couldn't breathe. He didn't even process his hands going up to claw at Andrey's face, hands, literally anything to make him let go of his fragile neck.

-learn your place."

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't see either now. What was happening?

"You will-" The words were becoming too wrapped now. "learn.."

There was a strange ringing in his ears now. What was he saying?

"to obey."

Noah's body went limp, his mind slipping into darkness. He could feel the life draining out of him, the pain fading into a distant echo.

He was dying. He was sure of it. And he was ready to welcome it now. Death had become a long-lost friend with everything he went through.

When Andrey released him, letting him fall to the ground in a crumpled heap, he had been almost disappointed. Just a few more seconds and maybe Noah would've been free from the torture.

Noah lay there, gasping for breath, his body a wreck of pain and terror. He could barely think, barely move, his mind a haze of agony and fear.

Andrey stood over him, his face a mask of cold fury. "You will learn your place," he repeated, his voice a low growl. "You will learn to obey."

His hands were still clawing at his throat, still feeling the unforgiving fingers on them. He could only manage a small nod.

But Andrey's eyes were hard, his heart a stone. "You can scream all you want," he said, his voice cold and merciless. "No one will hear you. No one will come to save you."

And a broken sob escaped Noah, because he knew it was true. Because he knew that no matter what, no matter how much Noah would beg and plead and pray. And oh lord, did he pray. Noone was coming for him. And even if they did, how did it matter anyways?

How did anything matter now?

Shackled by Royalty Taglist: @miireux134/ @nuriiz134/ @noeul-whumpsss/ @morning-star-whump/ @parasitebunny/ @anutz1234/ @whatwasmyprevioususername/ @whumped-by-glitter/ @lordcatwich/ @someoneoninternettt/ @natthebatt/ @noeul-whumpppssssss1234/

@electrons2006/ @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @lolrpop(let me know if you want to be added, removed or only be tagged in teh main series :D)

[bonezone44]

For my Muddy Waters series (Ezra x Reader x Joel, set 20 yrs after the outbreak in Jackson):

--

"This is not a country CD," Jerome says matter-of-factly, showing the plastic case to Tobias. Jerome stands behind the bar while Tobias sits on a stool as they sort through the small collection of music gathered during reconnaissance missions. "It's got a horse on it. It's called White Pony. But ain't none o' this shit sound like country."

Your heart stops. Your head flies up in Jerome's direction. "White Pony?"

"Yeah," he says. He glances at the case's spine. "It's some band called the Deftones."

You jump from your booth and run over, snatching it from his hands. You can't believe it. You hadn't thought about the album in years. "D-does it work?" Your throat's dry and knotted.

Jerome shrugs. "Yeah, it plays fine."

Tears fill your eyes. You open up the case and there's the CD. A disc you haven't seen since you were 18 years old and sitting in your college dorm room. "Can I borrow it?" you ask with a shaky voice.

"Yeah, sure." He shrugs again. "I don't think anyone's gonna be playin it in here."

You nod and rush out the bar, running home to show Ezra.

You shake his shoulders, sleep be damned. He doesn't need rest for his patrol shift. He needs to wake up. He needs to listen.

"What? What?" His eyes go wide in panic as he twists around on the bed. He's reaching around for a weapon--convinced that there's danger with how distressed you appear.

"White Pony," you blubber out, holding up the CD case. "White Pony."

His mouth opens wide, his brows squeeze high into his forehead. You've never seen him look so puppy-eyed. "White Pony?" he whispers.

You nod.

"Well, PLAY IT then!" he shouts, one hand gripping his hair, the other reaching for the CD. His expression turns to anguish.

"I AM, you fuckin' asshole!" Your hands tremble as you go to the living room to your tiny little CD player. Ezra follows.

The first notes of 'Back to School (Mini Maggit)' begin to play and both you and Ezra break into full out sobs, collapsing next to one another on the couch. A whole forgotten childhood resurfaces. The anger. The isolation. The desperate, aching pain. Alone, singular, and outcast from everyone around them. Two aching souls looking for their match and met with nothing--until the outbreak.

Chino Moreno's yearning and angry vocals had expressed a deep part of you and Ezra that neither of you had never been able to safely verbalize--not with the neglectful families you had both experienced.

The album is almost an hour long and you and Ezra cry the whole first way through. But on the second go around, you recognize each other. You see each other's pain. And you hold one another close, heart to heart, slow dancing to 'Digital Bath.'

-------

You make the water warm And taste foreign And I know you can see the cord break away 'Cause tonight, I feel like more 'Cause tonight, I feel like more

----

[osaemu]

ミ★ can't go back, i'm haunted 🜚

in honor of today's distressing bsd chapter, i wrote a continuation of it for closure. haven't read the chapter yet? read it here

pairing: dazai x chuuya

summary: dazai had always been a constant in chuuya's life, but that was all about to change.

word count: ~0.9k

warnings: major bsd spoilers. blood. why do all my fics have blood in them? lots of angst. death. mentions of murder. mentions of suicide. not explicitly romantic but can be interpreted that way.

a/n: today's chapter killed me inside. killed. me. so obviously i had to write an angst fic to make my life even more miserable!!! also yeah there's some lines from the song haunted mixed in here 💞

being one of fyodor's vampire puppets was like being in a waking dream. chuuya was aware of his actions, but numb to any emotional sense. and yet, his lack of control didn't mean lack of courtesy.

fyodor saw what was happening a second too late – one second chuuya was just reaching out to close dazai's glazed eyelids, the next a soft blue light eminated from where his fingertips met dazai's bloodstained skin.

and a couple moments later, chuuya's mind clears. his senses return and he can clearly hear fyodor cursing over the intercom, but his focus is entirely on the scene in front of him – and it's straight out of his nightmares.

his cunning ex-partner, lying in a pool of his own blood. his eyes were closed, and as far as chuuya can tell, he wasn't breathing.

"fuck. fuck. dazai, can you hear me?" no response. "answer me, goddammit."

chuuya reached out and gently shakes dazai's shoulder, one of the few places he doesn't appear to be harmed in. "oi, dazai. answer me. fuck, wake up."

still, no response. but a couple seconds later, dazai coughs softly and hazily opens his eyes.

"ah, if it isn't my loyal dog..." dazai tries to smile, but it comes out as more of a grimace. as he speaks, a thin trail of blood drips down his beat-up face from the corner of his mouth.

chuuya tries his best to look angry, but his concern overwhelms his growing urge to punch dazai's bloodied face. "damn it, dazai, what the fuck happened?" 

"heh..."

"don't heh me, dazai. what-"

and it all comes back. every memory from chuuya's time under fyodor's influence. how dazai had tried to drown him. how chuuya had shot him.

and why dazai was dying.

chuuya wanted to deny the bloodbath in front of his eyes – he wanted to tell dazai that he'd be stuck with him for a long time yet, but he wasn't stupid. neither of them were.

both of them had seen enough bloodshed to know what a fatal wound looked like.

dazai must have seen the mix of emotions on chuuya's face, because he tried to smile again and reached out shakily. "don't... beat yourself up... over this."

chuuya exhaled a bitter laugh and shook his head. this would be all he thought about for the rest of his life – if he had been more careful, if he had been stronger, could he have stopped this hellscape from happening? was there was anything at all he could have done?

the distraught ginger's train of thought drove off the rails when he felt dazai's calloused hand rest on his shoulder. "i've waited so this... for so long..."

"does it hurt?" the words seem to escape from chuuya's mouth, and the unusually childish question makes dazai's eyes shine – with tears or with amusement, it's impossible to tell.

"s'kind of numb now," dazai murmurs, closing his eyes again. "if i..." his words are cut off when coughs, blood splattering on the floor next to him. 

"if i couldn't die next to a beautiful woman, i... i suppose i'm fine with dying by your side instead, my dog..."

"dazai, shut the fuck up and open your damn eyes. stay with me."

like always, dazai ignores chuuya's request and keeps talking. always so stubborn, even on death's door...

"chuuya, i... i lied."

that gets chuuya's attention. resisting the urge to tell dazai to save his breath, gray eyes meet brown and wait for him to elaborate.

"what i said... when you were drowning-" dazai tries to move his blood-slicked hair out of his eyes but fails, so chuuya leans in and does it instead.

"i wasn't kidding." dazai's eyes are fluttering shut again, and it's honestly a miracle he's stayed conscious this long. "i... i do believe there were some moments where... we truly did connect."

flashes of happier times flicker through both partners's minds. when dazai used to steal chuuya's hat, when chuuya would get angry after losing a video game, and all the times when each knew the other would have their back – always.

dazai's grip on chuuya's shoulder starts to weaken. their eyes meet for the last time, and everything they never said passes between the two in a heartbeat. finally at peace, dazai smiles up at chuuya and trails a bloody hand down his anguished face, eyes drinking in every last detail.

dazai's next breath is his last.

the lights flicker overhead, as if they too are mourning his loss. chuuya barely feels dazai's hand slip from his face and thud softly on the floor. his focus is entirely on dazai's now-peaceful features, free of the shackles he called life.

death had always fascinated dazai. from the very moment chuuya met him, he had taken every opportunity to try and commit suicide.

but this wasn't suicide. it was murder. and chuuya was the murderer.

"you're not gone, no, you can't be gone," the ginger breathes, gray eyes trailing over dazai's limp body. "c'mon, don't leave me like this, bastard. wake the fuck up, please, wake up..."

but a dead body can't be revived, not even by the most twisted of abilities. dazai was gone.

seconds, minutes, maybe even hours pass in the dimly-lit hallway. it's all the same to chuuya – for what is time without his ridiculous partner to share it with?

too many regrets, too little time. but life in the mafia has always been unforgiving, and if there's one thing chuuya's learned over the years, it's that there's a time and place for mourning.

so chuuya takes off his hat and places it gently on dazai's head, caressing it for a couple seconds before stepping away. he'd come back for the two of them later, but for now, he had a russian to kill.

a/n: even after writing all that i'm convinced that dazai's still alive. HE HAS TO BE. asagiri can't kill off sigma and dazai in the same chapter 😭

also requests are open and i really want to write bsd fluff headcanons and/or drabbles so drop any ideas u have in my ask box! love u lots 💞

anyways thanks sm for reading, and as always reblogs are very appreciated!

[baodurs]

🤥🎂🌙🌋🙉❇️🌠 - for either... or both :o

oc emoji asks

🤥 LYING - are they good liars? do they have tells to show they're lying?

my first instinct for phaedra was to say yes she's a good liar, but i'm not so sure... she's a good speaker, very poised, and good at keeping secrets & dealing with people, but i think outright lying could make her uncomfortable enough to be kind of obvious! i guess it depends on the situation and if she feels guilty. she's a competent utilitarian liar, but she's not good at prolonged deception or lying to people she knows well. if she ever tried it, she'd hesitate and just seem distressed lol

morven doesn't see much point in lying. she's usually blunt and direct (red hawke); when she does want to hide something, she's more likely to just be like "none of your business" or "i'm not telling you." beyond thinking it's usually a waste of time, she doesn't have any qualms with it, and she's a good liar when necessary. usually in the form of denying something when directly questioned—she's good at sounding dismissive or making someone feel foolish enough for asking/stonewalling them long enough that they just drop it

🎂 BIRTHDAY CAKE - when is their birthday? do they like celebrating it?

fictional calendars scare me i haven't thought much about it... but i think this thedas astrology doc is fun! using that, i'd say phaedra was born under eluvia* and morven was born under fervenial*

*assuming i just went for the most obviously fitting ones. but who knows!

phaedra looks forward to her birthday! as much as she is dutiful and self-effacing, she's always been more proud and less satisfied with her role than she wants to be, so she enjoys having a day where the weight of that lightens a bit and she can indulge in those "lesser" emotions. the key is that it's a limited (one day) and sanctioned (literally her birthday!!) form of indulgence, so she lets herself enjoy it

morven prefers to treat it like any other day. being celebrated is uncomfortable for her (if it's sincere, then it's awkward; if it's insincere, then it's annoying), but she rarely does anything big anyway. she likes her birthday as far as she can use it as an excuse to gather her family and friends together!

🌙 MOON - what is your oc's greatest wish? how far are they willing to go for it?

phaedra: her deepest desires are an inscrutable mess i fear. but the clearest and most present one is just to do right by the wardens. and she'll go very far for it! she wants them to have power and respect and she wants to be a good commander. and a good warden, really, but she struggles more with what that means.

morven: just some peace and fucking quiet to be honest!!! she has never dreamed very big. but clearly she's only willing to go so far for it, considering her entire life. she won't sacrifice much for a cause or for the greater good (she's vehemently against the circle and the chantry but too afraid of the consequences for herself and those close to her to do much about it), but she'll do anything for a person she loves

🌋 VOLCANO - how bad is their temper? is it a slow boil, or a instant explosion?

phaedra isn't a very angry character IMO. she feels a lot of frustration or resentment, but true anger is rare for her and fades pretty quickly. so losing her temper is a surprise to her and to others when it happens; she'll just seem the usual level of cold or serious until she lashes out very suddenly and then almost immediately regrets it and tries to save face

comparatively, morven is a generally angrier person with a much longer temper. it's a more familiar and useful emotion to her. i think seeing her lose her temper is also surprising but in a different way—less "where did that come from" and more "i guess i should have seen this coming but i didn't realize where the tipping point was"

🙉 HEAR-NO-EVIL - what is the worse thing your oc could hear from someone?

phaedra: that she's selfish. as a cousland, she struggled with her own ambition vs what was actually expected of her, and as a warden, she struggles with what is necessary vs what feels unacceptable (either to her the cousland that still lives in her brain!). it's her duty to her family vs her duty to the wardens vs her duty to ferelden vs her idealized sense of honor, and for someone to tell her that her own ambition or desires still won out over all of that would be worse than anything else they could say.

morven: that she's not doing enough or hasn't done enough... i think a lot about this act 1 conversation with carver:

hawke: you will not use [bethany] against me like that! she deserves better. carver: then you should have given better. hawke: i gave everything! question me, mother, yourself, but not that.

and that's really just it IMO! she's willing to accept when she's failed, but not that she still didn't give everything she could have. she wants to be malcolm, and on some level her failures become proof to her that she's not and that he was different or better, which is not Great but is something that confirms her worldview and the way she sees her father. like, if there's a flaw, then let it be with Her (and thus not with malcolm) and not with her efforts. this maybe makes her sound more fatalist than she actually is but what can you do

❇️ SPARKLE - what is their most prized possession? what do they value?

phaedra: is it passé to say the reflection amulet from the temple of sacred ashes... i think she tries to honor the idea that when you're a warden, your old life doesn't matter anymore, so she doesn't hold onto much from her origin. but this is something that reminds her of home that she got after leaving it behind, and she has a reverence for spirits, so she appreciates whatever gave it to her.

morven: having too many Things makes morven nervous, so she values things that are useful and don't feel like they're taking up space. a decent candidate for a prized possession would be something like malcolm's grimoire. (i apologize for how many of her answers are about malcolm.) but idk let's just say that for now bc i can't think of something better on the spot!

🌠 SHOOTING STAR - if they could make any wish with no repercussions, what wish would they make?

i think if someone made this offer to phaedra, she might just reject it lol... she's an envious character who wants a lot of things she can't have, but she also thinks she wasn't meant for those things/doesn't have them for a reason. it would feel wrong for her to wish them into existence (just wishing for a cure to the blight, for example, would feel to her like an insult to the wardens). she might pass the wish onto a loved one if possible <3 if she absolutely had to do it, she'd wish for something incredibly minor and practical like "i wish for mild weather on my next trip to the city" lmao

morven... hm. i think a lot of things would occur to her, and it would depend on when the offer was presented. she is not used to thinking big picture or hoping for things out of reach, so most of her wishes would be about safety/security for herself or friends. post-da2 morven is the only one who would entertain something big. first thought would be to cure carver of the blight, but i don't think she'd actually wish for it. i think she'd wish for one last conversation with malcolm, especially after legacy, bc that lack of closure is the one thing that will eat her alive until she's dead!!!!