#i should've made a tag for the under grounds

[kaciidubs]

Wait Your Turn

❣ Summary: If you're going to break the rules, then you have to face the consequences of your actions. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 5.7k ❣ Warnings: Poly! OT8 x Reader, smut, humor, comfort, fluff, Dom/Sub dynamics, bondage, edging, spit roasting, bukkake, creampie(s), cum play, slight spit play, dacryphilia, choking, degradation, implied after care ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Usual first name + pet name references for the members, Reader is referred to as Baby, Princess, Good Girl, Bunny, Pup, Bub, Kitten, Muse, Jagi[ya], Sunshine, Noona, probably the filthiest thing I've written so far, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

Being in a polyamorous relationship with one of the busiest idol groups meant having to apply schedules to the most mundane parts of your life; which dorm you stay at for the week, who wants to go on solo dates and who wants to do group dates, and most importantly, who's the next to get laid by you and when.

Granted, these types of things are only applied when they're in the midst of a comeback - making sure their work life doesn't interfere with your relationship - but when the dreadful time does come around, the struggle truly begins.

Each of your boys were different in terms of their needs, so the schedule was set to alternate between the needier members having more frequent interactions with you throughout the week while the more independent members cashed their time during off days or weekends.

It was a strange system to adapt to, but you all made it work for the length of the comebacks - though, that doesn't mean it always held up. Some of the boys cracked, some deciding to share their time with you and another boy while others asked for trades in their time slots to see you sooner, but they always did their best not to alter the schedule too much.

That is, until week two came and you were begged for a cuddle session from a certain Aussie leader - Changbin agreeing to save his night for another day since Chris only went out of turn when he was really in his head about something.

You slipped into his room easily, getting bathed in the soft purple lighting of his room as you shut the door behind you. "You okay, Channie?"

He turned onto his side, putting his phone on the small table next to his bed before reaching his hand out, "Yeah, just need you in my arms, love."

Your heart fluttered, obliging his request with a smile as you happily rush to his bed, letting him pull you under the blanket and into his warmth - your darling personal heater who rarely wore anything more than boxer briefs to bed.

It doesn't take long until you're settled underneath him, caged between his arms while his slim hips keeps your legs separated, soft lips pressing to your own with barely hidden intent.

"Christopher," you hum against his lips, pulling away just enough to catch a glimpse of his face, "what are you up to, mister?"

"Need you," he breathed softly, pecking your lips once again before kissing just under your jaw, "need you so bad, baby."

A soft moan floated past your lips as he nipped at your sweet spot, a hand coming up to tangle in his hair, "You know it's not your night, baby - we can't."

"No one needs to know, yeah?" His lips continued down, wet kisses left in his wake until he moved back up to your face, eyes lidded and fogged over with lust. "It's just one night, princess, please." Pressing his body against yours, he ground his hips, further enticing you with the feeling of his hard cock against your clothed pussy. "Please, princess, just for daddy?"

In all honesty, you should've stuck to the rules, you should've been the voice of reason, but then his lips were on yours again and all thoughts of rationality went out the window.

When he felt you melt into the kiss he sighed a breath of relief, pulling away to sit himself up on his knees, "I'll do all the work, baby, alright? I just need you to keep that pretty mouth of yours quiet - we don't want to get caught, do we?"

You shook your head softly, shamelessly checking out his chest under the LED lights, "No, daddy - I'll be quiet."

His right hand caught your chin, bringing your gaze back to his with a knowing smirk, "Good girl."

With that, your fate was sealed with the tangling of limbs, breathless sighs of names, and muffled moans of pleasure.

It wasn't until the next morning that you realized the repercussions of your shared decision, waking up to an empty bed and a wall of texts waiting on your phone that sent chills down your spine.

My Loves - GC Min [Cat Daddy]🐈: Meeting at 3Racha + Artist dorm tonight Sun-Bok ☀️: Yep! Binnie Baby 💪🏻: 👍🏻 My Artist 💌: This'll be fun 🙄 Hannie Jisungie 💘: Do we have to?? I kinda had plans.. Bubs [SeungMongMong] 💕: Han. Read the room. Baby Bread 🍞❣️: 😭😭😭

Judging from the lack of reply from a certain leader, you already knew what the meeting was going to be about.

Wonderful.

"Do you know why we're gathered here today?"

You wanted to coo at how cute Felix's 'domineering' act was, but you chose to refrain as you sat next to Chris in chairs borrowed from the dining room.

"Um... No?"

Minho clicked his tongue, sharp eyes narrowing in an expression you were all too familiar with, "Are you sure about that, Kitten?"

Pressing your lips into a firm line, you immediately knew that playing innocent was not in your favor.

"Chan?" He now challenged the eldest, the fire in his eyes unwavering.

The black haired man timidly shook his head, not even daring to open his mouth - he was a terrible liar, and everyone knew that.

"Alright, so we're playing this game." Shrugging dismissively, he turned his attention to Hyunjin and gave him a nod.

Without missing a beat, Hyunjin took out his phone and swiped across the screen before putting it down on the coffee table for everyone to witness what would happen next.

You froze at the sound playing from Hyunjin's phone, eyes snapping to Chris as his feigned look of confusion fell to sheepish embarrassment.

Floating through the small speaker were your moans, his moans, and the faint thumping of the bed you had warned him about before the entire scenario started.

"You recorded us?!" Even though he tried to save face, the blush tinting his ears and cheeks was more than a dead giveaway that you'd been caught red handed.

"You fucked her when it wasn't even your turn!" Hyunjin argued, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You were supposed to be asleep!"

"First of all, I can stay up late as long as I want, and second of all, you two aren't the quietest of fucks in this house!"

"We share a wall and I slept through all of that?!" Jisung suddenly piped up, gesturing wildly to the phone on the table, "Why didn't you wake me up?!"

"I sense we're missing the point here..." Jeongin mumbled, snatching Hyunjin's phone from the table to pause the tantalizing audio.

"Innie's right! The point is," Changbin pointed a finger at their leader, "you tricked my bunny into letting you hit!"

Seungmin scoffed, "Tricked is a strong accusation, your 'bunny' isn't as innocent as she seems, isn't that right, pup?"

As much as you wanted to speak up in defense of yourself, they were completely right; you were in the wrong, no matter how it started and how rewarding the act was, you had broken one of the rules explicitly set for comeback season.

"This isn't all sunshine's fault," Felix butted in, quieting the bickering happening around him, "but it isn't all Chan's fault either - they both did it, so they both need to be punished, right? That's what we normally do when rules are broken, isn't it?"

"Exactly," Minho purred, running a hand through Felix's blond hair in appreciation, "and lucky for you two, we already thought of a punishment."

A chill ran down your spine and you stiffened under his mischievous gaze, noticing Chris opening his mouth to speak from your peripheral but closed it once more.

He may have been their leader at work, but here they were all partners, and the eldest card was virtually useless.

Looking between the two of you, a smug smirk graced Minho's lips as he nodded, "No objections? Good." Turning his gaze to you, he nodded his head, "Clothes off, kitten."

Apparently, the agreed upon punishment must've been a pact for pure torture for you and Chris; the eldest remaining in the same dining chair he sat in during the meeting, wearing only his boxer briefs with his wrists tied behind his back as part of his personal punishment.

You, however, seemed to get the brunt of the arrangement, laid naked on a blanket spread out over the area rug, a few decorative pillows spread around in case you needed the extra support.

Chris wasn't allowed to touch you or himself, nor was he allowed to cum during any point of the punishment; whereas you were allowed to touch anyone but Chris, and you weren't allowed to cum while the remaining members used their designated day to fuck you out of schedule - just like their wise leader and boyfriend had done the night before.

After some thorough - and quite unfair - prep by Jisung that left your pussy covered in spit and glistening for all of the boys to pay witness, Jeongin shuffled his way between your legs.

"Hi, Noona."

You did your best not to giggle at how causal he was, despite being stark naked and fisting his dick for what was to come next. "Hi, Innie."

"I still think it isn't fair you let Channie Hyung break the rules like that," he pouted, shuffling closer to rub his tip against your awaiting folds, drawing a shivering breath from you in the process.

"I-I know, I'm so-rry!" The feeling of his cock sliding past your walls had your back arching slightly, a low moan floating past your lips as he steadily filled you to the hilt.

He groaned softly, hands anchoring at your hips as he began to thrust into you without abandon, eyes locked onto where you were connected as his tongue just barely poked between his lips.

Your peace of getting used to his fast pace was interrupted with a shadow being cast over your face, the sight of Changbin shuffling into view with his signature smirk curving his lips.

"You don't mind taking two at once, do you, bunny?" He hummed, tapping the head of his dick against your bottom lip for emphasis.

A pitiful whimper escaped you, eyebrows sloping as realization quickly dawned on you - if he was using your mouth, then that meant you wouldn't get to feel that delicious stretch you'd been craving for the past week, yet another punishment.

"C'mon, little bunny, open up for me."

Doing as you were told, you parted your lips to welcome his thick tip, dropping your jaw to accompany the rest of his thick length to slip into your mouth and press against the back of your throat.

He rocked his hips in an opposing rhythm to Jeongin's powerful thrusts, the force simply jolting you into Changbin's dick and helping him fuck your mouth in return.

Any sound you made was turned into vibrations that shot up his spine, while panted moans and grunted breaths flowed freely from them, mingling with the distant sounds of your other boyfriends pleasuring themselves on the side as they waited for their turn.

"Look at you taking Innie so well, gonna make him come, bunny? Make him fill that needy pussy of yours?" The third eldest goaded, his hand sliding down to grope at your breast, running his thumb over your budding nipple.

Jeongin grunted, head bowed with focus as he drove into you with one desire and one only - to come.

You tried to hum out a reply, nodding your head in hopes that it would get noticed through the bobbing of your head until an increase of speed had your eyes rolling in your head.

"I-I'm gonna come, Noona- Oh, fuck-"

Just as you were ready to feel the signature warmth filling you, the presence of him inside of you disappeared and your eyes shot open to see him jacking himself off above you. Within a few passes of his fist, ropes of cum decorated your stomach, starting just above your naval and ending near your breasts.

It was almost as if he could sense your disappointment as he shot you a cocky smirk, "Oh - did you want me to finish inside? Sorry, Noona, I got to pick since it was my turn."

With a tap to your cheek, Changbin brought your attention back to him, "Don't get too upset, you still have five more dicks to go, bunny."

He was right - your punishment was far from over, and with the needy flutters of your pussy, you knew the requirement of not coming would be an uphill battle.

So, with renowned vigor, you did your best to focus on giving the best head you could manage in this position, laving your tongue against the smooth skin of his dick while trying not to mind the saliva that trailed down your cheek.

In the meantime, Chris wasn't faring too well in his seat, his hard on straining in his boxer briefs and begging for some form of attention from anyone in the room - the subtle shifting doing next to nothing to satisfy the pressure he craved.

He watched as Hyunjin guided Seungmin's mouth up and down his cock, a hand tangled in the long golden tresses of the younger's hair while the other half of his attention was focused on slow makeout session Felix had drawn him into; plump lips working against the smaller pair in a way that couldn't be described as anything other than beautiful.

"IN-ah," Minho called out, almost looking completely unphased by the drag of Jisung's lips against the column of his neck if it weren't for the way his hands gripped his slim waist. "Why don't you make sure Hyung doesn't get too bored over there?"

Fuck.

Jeongin gave a dutiful nod as he crawled his way over to the eldest, fox-like eyes sparkling with a glee that made his stomach flip. "Channie Hyung."

"Jeongin."

He pouted at the use of his name, no glittering nickname or endearing title following, "Don't be like that! You know why we're doing this - you'd do the same if it was one of us!"

Of course, he was right, but that didn't mean he wouldn't try to save as much of his pride as he could, not with the way he could feel his sanity slipping as the two-toned blond settled between his spread legs.

"Alright, alright, 'm sorry," relaxing against the chair, he gave a small smile toward the youngest, "hi, baby boy."

Preening with happiness, Jeongin pressed a soft kiss to the inside of his thigh that nearly had him jolting out of the chair, a delighted laugh floating past those daring lips.

"You know... You didn't have to try to keep it a secret," he hummed, planting another kiss higher up the smooth plane of skin, "there's nothing wrong with needing Noona sooner than us, unless..." Sharp eyes looked up at him, a dark glint sending a spark of electricity down the eldest's spine, "You wanted to see what would happen if we found out - is that it, Hyung?"

Chris opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a guttural groan escaping Changbin, pulling his attention toward the main event happening in the middle of the living room.

The buff man shivered, hissing sharply as he pulled his softening dick from your mouth, "Show Binnie, bunny."

You opened your mouth immediately, showing the mess of cum and saliva pooling your tongue.

"Good girl, go on and swallow."

Your puffy lips closed for a moment before parting again to show your now empty mouth, void of any remnants of his seed; as a reward, Changbin bent down and pressed his lips to your forehead.

Next in the rotation was Seungmin, Felix, and Hyunjin - taking on a position that seemed to be coordinated in advance; Seungmin taking post between your legs, Felix straddling your torso with his hands already groping your chest, while Hyunjin lingered beside you.

"Jeongin, did you really have to leave a mess behind?" Seungmin groaned as he dragged his thumb through a still wet line of cum, tapping Felix's cheek with his index.

Following his instincts, Felix turned his head and instantly took his thumb into his mouth, and you watched with lust fogged eyes as he sucked it clean.

"Don't act like you weren't going to do the same thing." The youngest deadpanned, shooting the singer a glare, "You're just mad I did it first."

Deciding to ignore that statement, the second youngest slipped his thumb from Felix's soft lips and brought it down toward your awaiting pussy, putting slight pressure on your neglected clit.

You jolted at the sudden touch, whining pitifully, "Minnie, please, don't tease me."

"I don't think you're in any position to make demands, bub."

Despite his snarky reply, you could feel the head of his dick nudge against your slick entrance, all the while Felix was happily enjoying his time with your breasts; gently kneading the mounds and tweaking your nipples with subtle pinches here and there.

"Come here, my angel." Hyunjin murmured softly, cupping the freckled blond's face before pulling him into a sloppy kiss.

You watched helplessly, forced to be a spectator of the pleasure happening around you; the show above you, the sounds of Jisung's unabashed whimpers from the couch, and the grunted gasps of Chris from whatever Jeongin and Changbin had resorted to doing to him.

When the duo pulled away, Felix leaned over to let a stream of spit drip onto his twitching cock and the valley of your boobs, the excitement palpable from the way he practically vibrated above you.

Without any further preparation, he pressed your breasts together to sandwich his cock and rocked his hips forward, a heavenly groan floating past his lips.

At the same time, Seungmin slipped past your walls with little resistance, sighing happily at the warmth of your pussy finally enveloping him.

Your hands found Felix's thighs, squeezing the flexed muscles as he fucked your breasts at a steady pace - meanwhile, Seungmin set his own rhythm of deep and hard thrusts, practically punching moans out of your throat with each slap of his thighs against the back of your own.

"Sunshine, you feel so good," Felix groaned, eyes flicking between your face and the way the pink head of his dick peeked out from between your boobs on each inward thrust.

"Of course she'd feel good," Seungmin scoffed, his hands gripping the backs of your knees for leverage, "the little slut was made for us, isn't that right, pup?"

You preened at his words, tossing your head back with an unabashed moan.

"So shameless, my muse," Hyunjin smirked, watching you lovingly as he lazily fisted his spit-slicked cock. "You love being used like this by us - but, then again, we love getting to use you, too."

Whining up at him, your dazed eyes glanced down at his length and your lips parted - an offering.

"Nuh uh, beauty, I'm waiting for that sweet pussy of yours."

The clench your walls gave earned you a moan from the singer inside of you, his grip on your legs tightening slightly, "Fuck, stop it, pup - feels too fucking good."

Felix whined, tossing his head back with a shivering breath, "W-What's she feel like, Minnie?"

"Wet, warm, t-tight," a low grunt fell from his lips, "I can tell she's getting close - you know, when her pussy f-flutters-"

"-Y-Yeah, oh, fuck- I'm close." The freckled boy's thrusts quickly began to falter, dissolving into him shallowly humping your breasts.

Hyunjin watched as both boys chased their orgasms, your breathless moans floating through the air like a song while your nails scratched angry red lines down Felix's slim thighs.

"A-Ah, fuck, f-fuck-" Seungmin was the first to topple over the edge, pulling out just as he began to come, the hot release adding to the partially dried mess left behind from his boyfriend before.

With a shaky rut of his hips, Felix came with a short cry of your name, his cum painting your neck and mixing with the mess of saliva and precum in your cleavage.

Dropping your legs unceremoniously, Seungmin shuffled from between your legs to sit breathlessly at your side; Felix managing to shakily slide himself off of your torso and into the former's arms.

"Oh, you poor beauty," Hyunjin cooed, taking in your utterly disheveled form as he filled in the newly freed space, "they made you so dirty, didn't they?"

You jolted at the feeling of his hand ghosting your side, your abdomen twisting so hard you nearly folded over.

"H-Hyune, can I come this time? Please, please, I-I need to, i-it's too much!"

"You're begging the wrong person, my muse." He used his right index to drag through the mess at your sternum and down to the cum coating your stomach, "I can't help you, here." Popping his finger into his mouth, a shivering breath ran through his body, eyelids fluttering before focusing his heated stare back onto you, "Don't worry, I'll be fast - two more after me and you'll be done."

Luckily for you, your orgasm had began to subside and you were barely affected by the graze of his fingertips down your hips and thighs, caressing your skin and massaging the tense muscles as he went.

Chris watched as Hyunjin slipped inside of you with little to no resistance, the sight of your cum stained body arching off of the floor making him strain against the rope keeping his hands behind his back.

"Wish that was you, huh?" Changbin taunted low in his ear, squeezing his shoulders before lightly massaging away the tenseness in his biceps, "Look at her, five dicks in and she's still taking everything we give her."

"Fuck."

Hyunjin had your legs in the air, calves resting against his right shoulder to make the squeeze even tighter, making each drag of his cock that much more devilish for you.

That should be him making you moan like that, he should be the one feeling the squeeze of your pussy around his dick, not the stupid confines of his underwear.

He felt like he was going crazy, and it didn't help with Jeongin's intermittent touches to his restrained bulge that kept him hyper aware of everything happening in front of him.

Your moans grew in pitch, one hand gripping onto the artist's forearm while the other gripped a decorative pillow by your head for further support.

"Oh, god - I c-can't- I-"

"Hold it, kitten." Minho spoke up from his position on the couch, "You have two more to go for your punishment - you don't want to make it worse, do you?"

"N-No, but- Ah!" Your train of thought escaped you as the lithe dancer slightly leaned forward, pushing your legs closer to your torso and brushing against your g-spot in an entirely new angle that had you seeing stars.

"You can do it, my love," Hyunjin panted breathlessly, a fine sheen of sweat beginning to glisten on his skin, "g-gonna fill you up for doing such a good job for us, okay?"

There weren't any words you could find to somehow put together a coherent sentence, so you simply nodded with hiccuped breaths - doing your best not to focus on the burning desire in your abdomen.

It only took a few more strokes until he stilled with a gasp, broken moans happening in time with the twitching of his length, filling your cunt with every last drop of his load.

However, the turnaround this time was faster than you'd expected; Hyunjin pulling out with a still throbbing dick, while the sound of scrambling reached your ears before a new presence filled the void.

"Jagi."

Your heart clenched, blinking up at the man with a desperate gaze, "Sungie, please - I-I can't take anymore."

You were overly aware of the warm sensation of Hyunjin's cum dripping down the curve of your ass and undoubtedly staining the blanket beneath you, and you were beginning to feel tacky from the mix of cum and spit drying on your skin.

"I know, I know, but you're so close, Jagi - you can do it for us, right? Take your punishment like a good girl?"

The feeling of him pushing your legs up and out had you sobbing out a breath, everything from your waist down sore and crying for a break.

Jisung rubbed the leaky tip of his cock against your puffy clit, biting his lip as more cum seemed to endlessly dribble out of you, "Shit, he really filled you, hm?"

Then, just as his boyfriends before, he angled his hips and sunk into your sensitive cunt, your moans mixing together in a harmony.

"S-So good - god, I wish I could stay in this pussy." He groaned, leaning forward to hover over you - keeping your legs hooked on the outside of his arms - before shallowly thrusting into you.

The sloppy sounds of skin against skin and the mixture of cum and your arousal filled the living room as everyone watched on.

"Fuck... I wanna go again," Felix whined, doe eyes trained on where you and Jisung were connected.

Seungmin laughed, squeezing his arms around him, "Yeah? I bet Chan wishes he could go at all."

This comment brought each of their attentions to the man in mention, and the sight was one to be memorized for the time to come.

A light sheen of sweat shined across his forehead and chest, shallow breaths expanding his torso and exposing the slight definition of abs with each exhale, and thick thighs spread to display the bulge stretching the light grey fabric of his boxer briefs - a glaringly obvious stain of precum in the form of dark grey spread around the head of his hidden cock and along the length, defining it more.

"Holy shit, Chan - you're turned on this much?" Hyunjin took in the view with amused eyes, though the faint swipe of his tongue over his bottom lip hadn't gone unnoticed.

The eldest whined, an embarrassed blush adding to the flush of arousal on his face, "It doesn't help that these two," he nodded his head between Jeongin and Changbin, "have been over here touching me the whole time, and- fuck, watching everyone take turns with her, how could I not get turned on?"

"Channie Hyung, you look like you're one breeze away from coming." Jeongin giggled as he pressed his index finger against the outline of his tip, pulling it away to see a faint string of precum follow suit.

"He shouldn't." Minho interjected, watching the small group from the couch, "And you better not make him come either, unless you'd like to be added to the punishment list, too."

Another signature whine fell from Felix as he broke his focused stare to look at the black haired man, "Can we at least see him? Please, Hyung?"

There was a moment of silence - well, as silent as it could be with your and Jisung's moans and whimpers still dancing through the air - before he nodded his head.

"Fine, go ahead."

It definitely wasn't a three person job, but when Felix sprung into action with Jeongin, Seungmin wasn't about to be left out of the reveal - so, with three sets of hands and the help of Chris lifting his hips, they managed to toss away his one and only clothing item.

"Holy fuck, thank you," he groaned, his head falling back and lightly knocking against the backrest of the chair; a wave of goosebumps decorating his skin at the temperature shift and change in pressure.

The sudden sound of Jisung cursing called their attention like a moth to a flame, eyes snapping to see the rapper frantically fucking into you with reckless abandon.

Tears streamed down the sides of your face as you gripped his hair, "Please, please, please, I-I can't- j-just come already, Sungie!"

It wasn't clear if it was the tug on his scalp or your command that had him coming, but he was suddenly shaking above you with breathless whines, fucking his load into you with hard, shallow ruts.

He dipped his head to catch your lips in a less than coordinated kiss, a dazed smile finding its way to his face, "Last one, Jagi."

Sniffling up at him, a harsh realization hit you like a freight train - Minho was the last one to go.

Minho, the one who enjoyed seeing you at your wits end, wearing you down until you were nothing but his brainless little kitten - the one who laughed in the face of your pleas and begs, the one who would catch your tears onto his fingers and make you choke on the same digits.

As Jisung slipped away to join the rest of the spectators, you turned your head to see Minho unmoving from his seat, staring at you with a sinister glint in his eyes.

"Hands and knees, kitten."

You were shocked to find out that you still had power left in you to lift your body from the floor, much less manage to turn yourself onto your aching legs before dipping into an arch you'd perfected in your time with them - ignoring the feeling of now cold cum meeting the fluffy warmth of the blanket where you once laid.

It wasn't long until you felt a large hand grip the swell of your ass before landing a hard slap against the cheek making you scream out a moan.

"What did we learn?" He hummed nonchalantly, spreading your ass cheeks to see the newest mess of cum ooze toward your clit.

"I-I won't k-keep secrets," you sobbed, the pulse of your pussy making your toes curl, "if s-someone wants to skip ahead, w-we make sure everyone knows - P-Please, Min, I'm sorry!"

The only sign of acknowledgment he gave you was a clipped hum, sliding one hand to the base of your spine while the other wrapped around his dick, pumping once and tracing your messy cunt.

"Do you think you deserve to come?"

"Y-Yes! Yes, please, I've been good - I-I didn't come while the others fucked me, I-I let them use me, please let me come, Min!" Hiccuping a sob, your hands fisted the blanket as fresh tears streaked down your cheeks, "Please, please, please, it hurts - I can't keep holding it!"

The stretch of his dick past your sensitive walls had your mouth falling open in a silent moan, eyes rolling as your veins flowed with molten lava - overstimulation beginning to set in.

"Okay, kitten, you can come," he murmured softly, his hand sliding up your slightly sweaty back before wrapping around your neck, his body eclipsing yours as his lips hovered just above your ear, "but only when I say so."

He dragged his hips back before delivering a hard thrust, forcing a choked gasp past your lips as he began to practically fuck you through the floor - broken moans and cries flowing like water in a stream.

"Remember this the next time you decide to bend the rules," hissing in your ear, his hand tightened around your neck ever so slightly, "doesn't matter if its Yongbokkie's charms, Hannie's begs, Jeongin's sugar coated promises - none of them, if you try lying to cover for them, this is what'll happen."

"Minho, it wasn't all her fault." Chris gritted, watching the way you writhed in the second eldest's hold - his dick twitching painfully for any type of relief.

Minho scoffed out a laugh, finally directly regarding him ever since the entire punishment started, "When did I ever say it was, Chan?"

Without so much as a stutter in his rhythm, he sat up onto his knees, bringing your body with his and putting you on full display for the rest of your partners.

"This is a lesson to you, too; don't try to keep things from us - if you want to fuck our girl, you can fuck her." His thumb pressed against the underside of your jaw, tilting your head in their direction, "She obviously loves it, so why put yourself through the stress of making it a secret? You can see her just like this without keeping her orgasm from her, isn't that right, kitten?"

You mindlessly nodded as best as you could, drool trailing out of the corner of your mouth as you tried your best to keep your focus on the man restrained in the chair and not on the six other pairs of eyes taking you in.

"Words, kitten."

"Y-Yes, Sir!" You mewled, your hands holding tight to his arm to keep yourself tethered to your own body.

"Exactly, now, say sorry."

Chris bristled, "Minho, that's-"

"Felix."

On command, the boys occupying the space near Chris's legs moved to allowed Felix between them; Jeongin holding onto one thigh while Hyunjin held onto the other to further restrain him.

The second Felix's soft hands wrapped around the base of his dick, he had to bite his lip to silence the pure moan of pleasure that wanted to rise out of him - but, the instant his lips pressed against a vein, he nearly cried.

"Say sorry, kitten," Minho whispered in your ear, breaking through the fog that clouded your brain, "say sorry then you can come."

A sob wracked through your body as you nodded, "I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Innie and Binnie. I'm sorry L-Lix, Minnie, a-and Hyune. I-I'm sorry S-Sungie," nearly choking on your breath, you cried, "a-and I'm sorry Min, I'm so sorry, sir!"

He hummed, a smirk on his lips, "You're missing an apology, kitten."

The names replayed in your head like a tape on rewind, your brain desperately searching for who you might have missed until it finally clicked.

"C-Channie!"

The call of his name brought his eyes to yours, breathless groans escaping him as Felix licked at him as if he were a popsicle on a hot summer day.

You sniffled, blown out pupils swimming in the sea of your watery eyes, "I-I'm so sorry, Channie - I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!"

His heart clenched in time with his abdomen, hips canting as best they could with Hyunjin and Jeongin keeping him still. "I'm sorry, princess, you hear me? Fuck- I'm so sorry, baby."

"Good kitten," Minho grunted, his free hand wrapping around your hip to the apex of your thighs, his skilled fingers finding your clit easily, "now, come for us."

There wasn't a singular word to describe the sensations that shot through your veins; euphoria, relief, satisfaction, all you could feel was the wave of your orgasm crashing around you and drowning you in the muffled sounds of your own screams.

It didn't take long for Chris to fall victim to the sinful kitten licks of Felix's tongue, not when he had the view of you and Minho falling apart before his eyes.

"Oh fuck, f-fuck!"

Minho felt you slump in his arms, shallow breaths wracking your body through soft whimpers and hiccups. "You're alright, Jagiya, I've got you."

You slurred out soft words he couldn't catch, though the faintest "Sorry" caught his ear through the jumbled mess.

"No more of that, kitten, okay? I forgive you - We forgive you, just take some deep breaths with me, hm?"

Changbin appeared in front of you with two wet washcloths, and a t-shirt most likely from his closet, "Hey, bunny, it's Binnie - I'm gonna clean you off, okay?"

You hummed softly and he got to work wiping away the dried cum and spit that stained your skin, using the second cloth to get whatever remnants he missed before handing it off to Minho who cleaned away the cum covering your pussy.

Meanwhile, Felix and Jeongin were having a field day of cleaning up the cum that decorated Chris's skin from his own orgasm; Hyunjin lazily running his hands through Chris's hair while Seungmin untied his wrists.

"Hyung," Seungmin prodded, garnering Chris's tired, but attentive gaze, "we know you mean well, and you don't like imposing over us, or whatever," he took a short breath, fighting through the shyness, "but if you need something then say so - it's not like we haven't adjusted our schedules before."

"Yeah, Chan - we're not gonna fault you if you need your time sooner than us, we do it all the time." Hyunjin chimed in, playing with a small curl at the front of his head.

"Some of us more than others."

"You know, I can hear you," Felix deadpanned, looking up at the three of them while licking his lips, "and it's not like I don't offer sharing my time!"

Jeongin laughed, "I don't think they meant it as a bad thing, Lix, you're just the one who uses your time the most, even if you share it."

"Which is, again, not a bad thing," Jisung piped up with a chuckle, walking toward the group with a washcloth and a bottle of water for the eldest, "I think it's a tie between me and you, honestly."

Through the small talk and pre-shower wipe downs - some of the boys dispersing to shower while others searched for snacks - Chris noticed Minho bundling up the soiled blanket while Changbin cradled your sleeping form in his arms on the couch, murmuring soft words he wasn't able to catch.

"She's okay," Minho hummed, catching Chris's soft gaze, "we're going to let her rest for a minute, then when she wakes up Changbin's going to make sure she uses the bathroom before anything else."

He nodded understandingly, stretching his arms and rubbing absentmindedly at his wrists.

"You want to cuddle with her."

Chris jolted, eyes widening, "What? I didn't say-"

"You don't have to say it, you do it all the time after sex, Chan," he rolled his eyes, a loving smirk playing at his lips, "it's nothing to be embarrassed about. Just..." Sighing, Minho ventured over to the chair he still sat in, "Stop being shy about needing love, okay? This isn't about some stupid rule or 'fuck' schedule - you need to know that there isn't any shame in putting your needs first. You have eight partners, which means you have eight people who are open and ready to give you the love you need, Hyung."

Planting a quick kiss on his lips, Minho disappeared down the hall toward the laundry room, leaving Chris to settle with his words.

Nodding softly to himself, he made his way toward Changbin and swapped roles quietly, accepting a temple kiss from his fellow rapper before he headed into the kitchen to join whoever occupied the space.

Laying across the couch, Chris let you lay partially on top of him, his arm wrapped securely around your back while he used his other hand to caress the soft skin of your cheek with his thumb.

Stirring slightly, you cracked an eye open and a tired smile twitched your lips, "Mm... I love you."

You have eight partners, which means you have eight people who are open and ready to give you the love you need.

He smiled at Minho's words, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the tip of your nose, watching as you drifted back to sleep.

"I love you too, baby."

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee, @palindrome969, @newhope8, @softkissfelix, @luvyev, @luminouskalopsia

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[anundyingfidelity]

AFFECTION — Soldier Boy

Summary: During a mission, Soldier Boy receives a hug from you unexpectedly. He likes it.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female supe!reader.

Word count: 0.9k

Warnings: canon violence and language, reader is kinda hurted, descriptions of blood and stuff, AU where Ben is working with the team on missions (which is what should've happened on the show btw), Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy lmao, Ben and reader are totally opposites and I live for that. Based on this post.

Note: soooo I'm still making some arrangements to my Soldier Boy long fic and instead I have this short drabble in the meantime. Hope you enjoy it hehe.

the boys/jackles tags: @k-slla

(if anyone would like to be added to my tags just tell me^^)

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

You groanned, feeling the hard wall hit against your back. It was hard to believe but you thought probably you wouldn't go out of this alive. Your body ached and not even your strenght could stop this guy.

Fucking Butcher, why did you have to follow him to suicide again? Just a couple of cunts, he said. But he forgot to mention they had a weird improved dosis of V injected.

You fell to the ground as the man walked towards you. He was extremely tall and well-buff. No sense the Compound V on his system made him better, or at least that's what he thought. He was tossed to the ground by your side, and you crawled to the corner of the small room.

The distance was not enough to let you run away. You stayed there, watching Soldier Boy's big frame over the man. He used his shield, beting him to death and destroying his face and neck during the process. You were so damn sure his loud groans of pain would remain on your mind at least for a couple of days.

"Fucking pussy," the old man said, wipping some blood off his face. He got on his feet ungracefully and grabbed his shield back. He turned to look at you, still sitting on the floor. "You okay?"

You nodded. "Yeah."

He held you a bloody hand, which you took to stand up. There was an akward silence as you and Ben left the small room, you followed him around the dirty basement, filled with lifeless bodies and fluids on the ground, to meet with Butcher and Hughie.

"Guess those were all," Butcher announced.

"I have the remaining dosis," you took the tube from the pocket of your pants and showed them with a smile on your face. "Was the last one."

"Excellent," Butcher grabbed it and tossed it to Hughie, who saved the tube on a bag.

"We made it out, huh," you mumbled.

"Well, we're still down here, so," Hughie shrugged and three pairs of eyes narrowed at him. "What?"

"Just think positively, for once," you pleaded with a fake sharp tone. "Isn't that hard, y'know."

Ben rolled his eyes.

"We're on a fucking shithole, the kid's right. Let's go now before any of you fuck this up," he ordered and passed by between Butcher and Hughie, hitting his shoulder intentionally in the process.

You quickly followed behind his long soldier strides. "Wait!"

Soldier Boy scoffed and closed his eyes slowly only to open them again. You stood on his way with a big smile and wide eyes. Bruises and blood adorned your face and neck, your clothes were also splattered with dry blood and dirt after killing those clandestine stupid supes on an undercover mission at night, and still you acted like nothing had happened. He stood in place, with Hughie and Butcher standing behind expecting what the fuck you'd be doing this time. Sometimes he thought you were so fucking annoying.

"The fuck you want?"

You opened your lips to say something but nothing came out. Once you closed them, you beamed again and closed the distance between him and you. You wrapped your arms around his strong waist and rested your grubby check against his chest. He tensed visibly under your hug and after a moment you pulled away, your hands behind your back with a shy smile. Hughie and Butcher were clearly holding back a good laugh. They knew better not to mock Soldier Boy, not yet though.

Ben blinked a couple of times, trying to process what happened.

"What the fuck was that?"

You giggled. "Affection."

He wrinkled his nose. "Disgusting."

You gasped and faked sadness on your voice. "Why? I was just saying 'thank you for saving my ass'."

"It's fucking nothing," he rolled his eyes and started to walk again to guide the team outside, with the other two men with playful smirks on their faces following behind.

"Ben!" you quickly caught his pace to stand by his side. "Thank you, okay? Probably you don't like physical contact but I do. And this is how I show others that I care about them and that I'm thankful. I also give hugs because I like them and–"

"Shh!" Ben raised his hand, suddenly stopping his tracks by the end of the stairs that'd lead you outside. He turned and looked at you with that grumpy face of his. "I said you're welcome, sweetheart. Now we need to go, you can talk to me about your hugs shit later."

He pointed to Hughie and Butcher. "Now, you, cocksuckers, go up."

Butcher grinned, going first. "Sure, cap."

"You shut up," Soldier Boy warned, Hughie gulped and nodded, and made his way up on the stairs.

You stood there, with a smile on your lips. Always that fucking, idiotic, stupid smile, even after hard missions like the one you just had. It was like if you were the only one who didn't seem scared of him or anything else. Sure, you were a supe and a smart asset on the team. But still, a very peculiar lady through his eyes.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. Once Butcher and Hughie were out of sight he finally talked.

"Do it again."

"Excuse me?"

"The stupid hug, do it again."

You raised your eyebrows, eyes bright as you realized his request. "Really?!"

"God, woman. Do I need to fucking repeat my—?"

His words were cut by your strong hug. You crashed against his frame so hard he lost balance for a bit. He was certainly surprised by how warm your hug it actually felt. You angled your eyes to see his face.

"Thanks!"

You let him go and got up the stairs. He barely curved his lips at how happy you climbed them. Yeah, well he actually liked your stupid hugs.

soldier boy / reader

[dolcettamagica]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥

ceo!sukuna x secretary!reader, modern au

tags: degradation, daddy kink, videocall-sex, dirty talk, masturbation, sexting notes: minors dni, one sequel to "𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘉𝘦 ���𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘰𝘴𝘴" - you decided to text your boss Sukuna wc: 1.7k

Finally you arrived home, your steps heavy with exhaustion yet tinged with relief. With each passing moment, the weight of responsibility seemed to lift as you approached your doorstep. Unlocking the door, you stepped into the comforting embrace of your sanctuary, where the warmth and familiarity of your home enveloped you like a soft blanket. Sighing deeply, you kicked off your shoes and let the tension of the day melt away. Settling into your favorite armchair, you closed your eyes, letting the tranquility of home wash over you, yet you were restless.

Your fingers reached into the pocket of your coat to pull out the cigarette Sukuna gave you, his number written on it. “Hm…”, you took off your coat, letting it fall next to you on the ground. “Should I really?” Flashes of the previous event came rushing back into your mind – the way his fingers wrapped around your neck and his hot tongue pushing into your mouth. That kiss alone made you incredibly wet.

You saved his number under “Boss (Private)” and stared at the texting icon. It would be so easy and besides, it's just a text. He couldn’t fuck you over phone anyway.

Hello, this is y/n.

Eager little girl. Texted me as soon as you came home?

Dumbfounded, your eyes analyzed his (instant) reply. 

Don’t worry, princess. Not judging you. Bet your pussy is still wet. My cock didn’t go soft either.

Excuse me? This is highly unprofessional.

No, me fucking you bend over your workdesk would be highly unprofessional. Answer me: Is your pussy still wet, little one?

You should've known that it would end up like this. You shouldn’t reply. You should tell him that this is inappropriate. Remind him that you are his secretary and some may deem this interaction as unethical and not to forget that you are years younger than him. Why was it so hard to stop though?

Yes, Mr. Sukuna.

From now on you call me daddy.

Yes, daddy.

The sudden ring of your phone shattered the atmosphere. Surprised, you glanced at the screen to see a Facetime call flashing urgently. Sukuna was calling you. The surprise sent a jolt of excitement coursing through your veins, igniting a fire within you. nervous anticipation fluttered in her chest like a caged bird. For a moment, uncertainty swirling in your mind. With a deep breath, you accepted the call, your heart pounding in your ears. The familiar face that greeted you was enough to send a surge of desire coursing through your body. Despite your nerves, the thrill of your virtual connection stirred something primal within you, heightening your senses and leaving you longing for more.

“Wish you could see your face right now. You look like a needy slut, princess”, Sukuna snickered. His shirt was unbuttoned all the way, exposing his upper-body. Your eyes widened in shock as you saw it. He had–

“Like my tattoos, huh?”

“I-I just didn’t know that you had any.”

Smirking his finger traced the black lines across his chest. His phone was probably leaning against something cause you could see almost everything up to his knees. Even the way he was sitting, his legs spread and a hand wide on his thigh, screamed dominance and sent shivers down your spine.

“Wanna see more of you, baby, put your phone somewhere. I need to see your face and what’s between your legs. Can you do that for daddy?”

Every bit of self-control and resistance left your body as soon as he called himself daddy. It’s no wonder that every woman and man wanted him buried deep inside their guts.

“Yes, daddy”, a simple good girl fell from his lips as he watched you propping your phone on the table in front of you against a water bottle. “Is this okay?”

“It’s perfect, princess. You’re such a good slut for daddy, aren’t you”, Sukuna’s hand, which was previously on his thigh, was now on his crotch, grabbing onto his hard on, “Undress, baby girl.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. With a subtle yet deliberate motion, you reached behind your back, fingers deftly finding the tiny buttons that held your blouse together. With each successive button undone, the fabric began to loosen, revealing tantalizing glimpses of the soft skin beneath. As you slipped the blouse and bra off your shoulders, a shiver of anticipation raced down your spine, the cool air caressing your exposed flesh. In that moment, you felt an exhilarating rush of vulnerability, a silent declaration of self-assurance and desire. You weren’t going to stop now so you silently took your skirt off, wiggling it off your hips. The only thing you were wearing now was your thong.  And Sukuna’s eyes were sitting on you the whole time, taking in every little detail. Your trembling hands, your moles and freckles, everything.He could feel himself almost bursting through his pants. At first he wanted to make you beg to see his cock but he was hard ever since you crawled over to him. Swiftly he unzipped his pants, just to give his cock a bit more space.

"Obedient little slut. Look at you, just taking your clothes off, obeying my words. Makes me want to ruin you even more, little one.”

The plan to forever reject him and never succumb to him was already forgotten. How could you ever reject him when he gets your pussy this wet?

“...I’m your slut, daddy”, it was a mere whisper but Sukuna heard every word.

Growling he pulled his cock out of his boxers. It was massive. Sukuna spit in his hand before he wrapped his rough hand around his shaft. Your eyes felt like they were bulging out of your sockets. His cock would destroy you, fill you up completely and turn you into a whimpering bitch in heat. YOu were certain of that.

“Come on, princess. Spread your legs for daddy, show me how wet your pretty pussy is”. His filthy mouth had you stifling a moan as you lifted one leg to rest against the back cushions of the chair and spread the other so that your foot rested on the floor. 

“Li-like this, daddy?” God, this was embarrassing and extremely hot at the same time. 

“Yes, baby, just like this”, he stroked his cock from tip to base, the other hand now palming his balls. “Now lick your fingers and rub that clit for daddy. Bet you wanted me to do that back at the bar, huh?”

You did as instructed, dragging the tips of your index and middle fingers across your tongue slowly before lowering them to your pussy, seeking your clit. Instantly your legs began to twitch – he was right, you wanted this all along.

“That’s it, little one. Fuck, imagine it being my tongue. I should’ve played with that sweet cunt after you crawled to my feet like the dirty slut you are.”

Breathy moans filled the air around you, your pussy clenching, yearning for something big to stuff it.

“Daddy…fuck, daddy”, Sukuna was still stroking his cock as he took in the alluring sight on his phone, “G-good…feels so good, Daddy.”

“Look at my cock, baby. I’m imagining that cute mouth wrapped around my fat dick. Like that, slut?”

“Yes, daddy, yes. I love it, daddy.”

His hand twisted around his tip, pre-cum leaking already. “Squeeze your tits, pinch your nipple,” he growled.  “That’s my fuckin’ teeth, slut. I can see your naughty pussy clenching through the screen. You need something in there, right? I should be pounding into that cunt, take what’s mine.”

“Please”, you started to beg, primal urges taking over you, “Please let me put a finger in, daddy.”

“Shove those fingers inside.  As many as you can fit. Tough it would never compare to me pushing my dick in that tight cunt of yours. You think you can take this cock, huh?”

Finally you pushed your fingers inside. Your pussy was wet enough that your fingers met no resistance at all. “Y-yours…yours is too big. Would break me.”

“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy. My cock would fucking break you, fuck you real good, make you my personal fucktoy. Look at me, slut!”

Sukuna was pumping his dick to the same speed as you were fingering your cunt. This was driving you insane. He demanded you to pick up the speed, both of you did.

“Keep fuckin’ that pussy.  Yeah, just like that.  Go faster.  Use your other hand – rub that clit again. Tell daddy how much you want his cock.”

“Want–Want daddy’s cock…I want daddy to–to fuck my slutty little pussy, please. Need daddy’s cock.”

Sukuna could feel his climax coming, his balls pulsating, something building up inside him. If only you were in front of him, begging for him to ram into you and choke you while you whimpered and cried for sweet, sweet release.

“How far are you, princess?”

You couldn’t reply with words, only strangled cries as you climbed higher.  You hooked your fingers to drag across your g-spot, fucking yourself so hard that the squelching sounds could probably be heard from beyond the door.  Your cunt contracted around my fingers once, hard.  “Ahh…cl–close, daddy.”

“Shit, me too,” he groaned.  “Fucking look at me when you cum, slut.”   Sukuna started stroking his cock faster and faster while he continued to massage his balls.  You swirled faster and harder as you pumped your fingers in and out of your wet cunt.  

“Oh fuck daddy!” you cried, rolling your eyes back to his face as you felt your muscles tense. 

“Good girl,” he breathed, looking directly into your eyes.  “Cum for me. Do it.”

And, then the tension and pressure released all at once, making you scream “daddy” as the waves rippled through your body.  Your cunt clenched your fingers rhythmically and you continued to finger yourself through the aftershocks.  

“Fuck – shit, here it comes!” Sukuna moaned seconds before thick white ropes of his cum spurted from his cock to land on his stomach as he bucked up into his hand roughly.  “Fucking finally.”

Moments later you were still panting as Sukuna gave you one last order before ending the call.

“Don’t wear any underwear tomorrow at work and come in early.”

[nakylvr]

heyy, how r u doing?? since you write g!p could we get some g!p!dom!sophia?? thanks a lot!

well yes 😋 thank you for requesting 🫶

— WANTED YOU

sophia laforteza (katseye) x fem!reader

warnings/tags: language, nsfw content, g!p!sophia, dom!sophia, sub!reader, unprotected sex, shes kinda mean sorry, size kink, creampie

main masterlist | katseye masterlist

minors do not interact

"awe, baby, you're so cute."

you let out a whimper at sophia's words, staring up at her while she sits on her knees in front of you, you trying to keep your eyes open like she told you to.

"how am i gonna fit in your pretty little pussy?" she says teasingly. she's rubbing the tip of her cock up and down your slit, occasionally pushing in just enough for you to feel it before pulling back out immediately. she's already been at this for a while, and you know she's enjoying teasing you by the look in her eyes as she watches you fall apart under her.

"please stop teasing," you get out through heavy breaths.

sophia fake pouts at your words. "oh, but i thought we were going slow like you wanted? you're the one who said i was too big to manon, right?" her voice is laced with condescension as she talks to you, almost mocking you in a way.

the way she's talking has you letting out another whimper. you should've known saying something like that would only result in this. the thing was, it was partially true. considering you had only given her blowjobs and couldn't nearly fit all of her in your mouth, you think you had a right to say you thought she was too big to actually fuck you. that being said, you didn't think it would end up like this. "please," you whine.

hearing your plea has a smile forming on sophia's face, and she doesn't say anything as she slowly pushes her tip into you. her eyes stare down at the way your pussy swallows her cock inch by inch, glancing at you when she hears your breathing get heavier. her hands grab your hips, pulling you closer to her as she sheaths herself completely inside you. "you tell me when you want me to move," she says to you.

your jaw falls open as soon as you feel her slowly push inside of you, your hands grabbing at the sheets under you in an attempt to ground yourself from the initial pain of the stretch. after a few moments, you let out a shaky breath. "please move."

sophia's hands gently rub your hips as she watches you take her fully, the smile on her face still there, and growing bigger when she gets the okay to move. she slowly pulls halfway out and pushes back into you, groaning quietly at the way your walls clench around her as she builds a slow pace.

a few whimpers along with curses leave your lips at the slow pace sophia is going, and your eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of her long, veiny cock moving in you. "too slow," you mumble out.

sophia's head tilts to the side at your words. "oh? then i guess i'll have to change that," she replies. she pulls you impossibly closer to her by your hips, her nails digging into your skin as she pulls out of you and slams back into you, grinning at the sharp gasp you let out as she does so. "i want you to be as loud as you can be, understand?"

"mhm," you nod your head.

"words."

"y-yes," you say, nodding again. "please just fuck me."

sophia doesn't respond this time, and instead just starts pounding into you at such a fast pace like it was nothing. you throw your head back against the pillow, moans spilling from your mouth while your hands grip the sheets beneath you tight enough to nearly rip them. your eyes close again despite your attempts at keeping them open, too caught up in everything you were feeling.

"fuck," sophia breaths out, watching you fall apart under her. "it's like you were made to take my cock. look at you," she says through panting. her nails dig into your skin as her hips snap against yours, keeping her fast pace. she glances down and sees your belly bulging in the outline of her cock, and she moves one of her hands to press down on it, grinning at the moan you let out. "awe, is my cock too big for you, baby? i can barely even fit, just look at you."

you can barely process her words, the condescending tone back in her voice as loud moans and whines leave your mouth. with the way she's pressing down on your stomach, you're sure there's a bulge and that's why she's saying it, and you can hardly make out any words to respond with. "f-fuck, you're so big," you whine, your hips starting to move to meet her thrusts.

your words have sophia swelling with pride and her cock twitches inside of you. she's grinning down at you with a dark look in her eyes as her hips stutter for a moment when you clench around her and she lets out a low groan. "you just love it, don't you, baby? you love this big cock?"

"yes!" you gasp out. her words have you getting impossibly close to cumming, the feeling building in the pit of your stomach. "i'm gonna cum!"

sophia could tell you were close before you said it, feeling the way your walls were clenching around her cock every other moment. she can feel her own orgasm approaching, and her thrusting is becoming more out of pace with quiet whimpers leaving her mouth every time she feels you clench around her. "fuck...wh-where hngh do you want me?"

you can feel her cock twitch again, knowing she's just as close as you are. it takes you a few seconds to answer her question, the sound of her desperate voice and the look on her face results in you answering in another gasp. "in me!"

sophia's eyes go wide at your response, but she is ecstatic on the inside. her hands grip your hips tightly as her thrusts become more desperate and erratic. your whines and moans are so loud she's sure she'll likely get a noise complaint, but she doesn't care as she leans towards you, mumbling "cum for me, baby." before kissing you.

your hands immediately grasp at her back when she finally gets closer to you, and you moan into the kiss. one more thrust and you were cumming all over her cock. parting from the kiss to breath as your eyes roll back and your back arches up into her. it doesn't take much longer for sophia to cum after you, letting out a whiny moan into your neck as she releases inside of you, her hips stilling to a stop.

you both pant heavily in silence for a moment before she slowly pulls out of you and lays on the bed beside you. her arms wrap around you and pull you close to her as she moves your hair out of your face.

"you okay?" she asks softly.

"yeah," you answer with a short nod.

"i love you," she says quietly, a smile on her face.

"i love you too," you reply, a smile on your own face.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

A Brute, An Angel... (König x F!OC)

Summary: König gets an order to make a female SpecGru sniper talk, but König doesn't want to hurt women.

Category: Smut 🔞, angst, fluff

Tags & warnings: Explicit mature content +18 audiences only, strangers to lovers (slight enemies to lovers), dubious consent, threats of rape, virgin!König, size kink, size difference, p in v, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, squirting, hugs and cuddles, super fluffy ending. König will be named in later chapters. 

A/N: KorTac and SpecGru are rivaling military contractors, Conor is König's superior (and a huge villain), and I just wanted to write angsty smut featuring our favourite Austrian boi. 

Part 1/3 of Valkyrie

Read on Ao3

A Brute, An Angel...

"You're always yappin' about how ya can make prisoners talk. Now here's ya chance."

König tried his best to stand tall while Conor spat at him with a gruff accent he couldn't quite place. He could tell the man got off on this: getting a chance to order him around and making him uncomfortable. He concentrated on looking down at him — knowing perfectly well that it only pissed Conor off when he did that. As if König could will himself to be shorter.

"But she's a… She's a girl. Sir."

"She is an enemy, and we need that intel."

I highly doubt that, sir.

"What do you want me to do with her?"

"Make the captive talk. Ya don't have to do the usual. If y'know what I mean."

"Are you suggesting that I rape her, Conor?"

The fact that he used the Lieutenant's name to appeal to him on a more personal level should've spoken volumes. But it had little effect on the man everybody in the KorTac was more or less scared of.

"I'm not suggesting anything. I'm giving you an order."

If Calisto or Stiletto were here, Conor would be on the ground by now, begging for mercy. König found himself thinking what stopped him from gutting the man right then and there.

"Does the team leader know about this?"

“Never ya mind about that."

"Permission to speak, sir," Zero pushed in.

"Go on."

"This goes against the protocol-"

"Did ya give two shits about the bloody protocol when we were in Adal?"

The abrupt outburst almost made König flinch. Almost.

Zero didn't turn the slightly disgusted gaze away, but snapped his mouth shut.

"I - I can't do it," König muttered.

"You sayin' you refuse to obey an order?"

König straightened upon hearing the word 'order' but otherwise remained in confused silence.

"I suggest you carry on unless ya wanna get demoted to a fuckin' desk job. It's your call."

And with that, Conor turned and marched off. Zero followed suit, sparing a pitiful glance at König as he went.

He was left alone in the bunker hallway, illuminated by a lamp that produced an unnerving buzz.

Conor was only doing this because he liked to bully him. Somehow, somewhere, Lt had lost his humanity, but it wasn't supposed to be his problem. Not until Conor made it his problem.

Something in him made the Lieutenant tick. König didn't know whether it was because he was a relatively fresh recruit or whether it was the fact that he was a foreigner. Hell, maybe it was the mask, how could he know?

"Fuckin' jerry."

And he wasn't even; he was Austrian, but Conor didn't care, which meant that it was something else about him that got under his skin. The man had vehemently decided to hate him, and he could do nothing about it.

König turned to the door leading to the interrogation room, grabbed the doorknob, inhaled deeply, and went in.

The girl was tied to the ceiling with a grey paracord that bit into her wrists as she hung there, barely able to stand. The bastard had bound her unreasonably tight. An ugly sight, that.

But she wasn't.

The thick braid was messy, her arms were more or less bruised, and her face had dirt on it, but she was, by far, one of the loveliest beings he had ever seen. She looked like heaven and hell, an angel of war who had fought for days against overwhelming forces and only wanted to sleep.

He swallowed, glad of the hood making the blob of his Adam’s apple invisible. She stirred and looked up, eyes dark with the burned out wrath of a cornered wild thing. She looked dog-tired, and scared. Beaten. And no one had even struck her yet. Not that he knew of, at least.

She pulled herself to her feet by the rope, although it was long enough to allow her to stand, and raised her chin.

"So you're the one they sent to break me."

-----

It was him.

The man that had gotten her in this situation in the first place.

She had been stupid enough to freeze for a few moments, the crucial little moments that meant the difference between life and death, escape and capture. And for what? To watch how this beast raged on the battlefield like it was his playground, to watch how he plowed through her mates while bullets showered around him. Seemed to evade him even though he was the largest possible target in the whole damn skirmish.

It didn't really help that his gear was gone. He was still one of the biggest men she had ever seen. If not the biggest.

The black hood was still in place, though, making him look like an inquisitor. Or an executioner.

She suspected he was here to make her talk. He could probably make anyone talk... But there was a particular threat present here. She was a woman in a helpless state, and she had a hunch that this mountain of a man wouldn't shy away from any methods that would humiliate and destroy her. He probably enjoyed it: getting a little treat after a nice day in the field.

The man strode to her, and it seemed that the only thing that moved as he walked was his hips. But the sound of his weight, the sheer mass that met the floor through combat boots, made her draw back in a futile attempt to disappear somewhere between her raised arms.

He stopped a generous few feet away, crossed his arms over his chest, then unraveled them again to his sides. He was all corded muscle beneath that black shirt, the fabric barely concealing the curves of a well-built chest. The poor textile stretched from the swell of his shoulders.

She didn't say anything. She expected a punch in the face, a knee to the stomach. Something to get things started.

He walked behind her, much more slowly, the thumps against the cold, hard cement causing the hair on her neck to stand on end. He stepped close, so close that she could feel his body heat against her back.

"Listen to me." She flinched at his voice, far more high-pitched than she would've suspected from such a beast of a man.

"I'm going to help you. But you have to assist me here."

The 'here' sounded more like german for 'hier'. Through her terror sweat and confusion, she found herself wondering how odd it was that the KorTac had some German guy working for them.

"We have to…" he cleared his throat from the falsetto his voice was climbing to.

And she only now realized that he was nervous.

The soldier was fucking nervous.

"We have to have intercourse," he continued, his accent bleeding thick through her senses like some goddamn ASMR she used to calm herself with. A guilty pleasure she succumbed to when she tried to reach sleep after a mission.

Only after she got past the fact that the enemy soldier's voice made her feel tingly, she understood what he had said exactly. What he was proposing.

She knew that nerves and adrenaline were a fucked up thing. You could get turned on during the most absurd situations when the survival instinct kicked in. Those situations could include getting a target on sight and pulling the trigger, or getting hit and receiving care under fire.

Turned out that it could include the prospect of getting tortured by a 6 feet something enemy merc who whispered in her ear with a thick German accent, gently like a lover.

Perhaps this whole set-up was just another kind of torture. A good cop, bad cop routine, in which he was both of the cops. He tried to tear her walls down and make her trust him, and when she refused to tell him anything, he would get to work. Tear her nails off, dislocate joints, rape her bloody.

"I'm not going to speak."

She announced it with a far less stern voice than she would’ve preferred, and heard him swallow. Either he was damn good at acting, or he was the most socially anxious soldier she had ever seen.

He rounded her and stopped only an inch or two from her face. Which only reached the man’s chest, broad and lean, covered in that black shirt and smelling of battlefield along with his sweat - the combination hitting her nostrils as an undiluted, masculine scent. He reached a gloved hand to prop her chin up, to force her to look at him.

It was her turn to swallow, and the angle he forced her neck caused the sound of her gulp to echo in the bunker. The tactical glove had cut-proof padding on the knuckles, and it scratched the delicate facial skin, even though his touch was more of a coax than a yank. But that wasn’t what caught her attention so vividly that it nearly made her knees buckle.

It was his ice-blue stare. The eyes stood out from the holes of his mask, from among the heavily applied black facial paint like two beacons. And they were gentle. Bordering on puppy eyes. The thought alone nearly made her laugh hysterically.

Even with her faltering knowledge of human character, she could’ve bet all in that this man would not hurt her. That he was far from a torturer.

And the knowledge made her even more confused. If he wasn’t the torturer, then who was he? What the hell did he want?

“You have to co-operate.” His voice was strained with something akin to despair.

“I can only help you escape if you co-operate,” he whispered, his voice so low it went straight between her legs.

Jesus, this was not okay.

He released her chin, but she didn’t turn her gaze away. Her eyes roamed his face, or rather, the black hood that covered it. She wondered why he wore it when other soldiers didn’t bother to hide their identities. The only other man she had seen wearing a mask was Lt, with the top of a human skull attached to his balaclava. And even he wasn’t this big. Albeit menacing and shrouded in mystery that came from all things danger, death, and pain, the man before her now intrigued her far more than even Ghost did.

Why did he hide his face? Why was he so… jittery?

And why did he try to escape her gaze?

He looked like the whole situation was too much for him. To say that the man was distraught when she merely looked him straight in the eyes when he told her that they needed to fuck, would be an understatement.

If she were to choose a man to torture someone with his dick, this would be her last choice.

“What’s the escape plan, then?” She asked, still not believing for a second that he would help her, even if he didn’t strike her as intimidating anymore.

"I, uh…"

"You don't have a plan?"

"Well, not yet."

"Why am I not surprised," she murmured into the stale, dusty air of the chamber. "Why would you even want to help me?"

"I don't hurt women," he said and took a step back as if to confirm that statement.

This was so fucking ridiculous. He was a mercenary in a filthy bunker with a bound prisoner, assuring that he was a gentleman. Was she on candid camera or something?

She had never been in a situation like this. She had never imagined being in a situation even remotely close to this. She would have laughed over the absurdity of the whole thing but couldn't, because her lower lip started to tremble.

He noticed it and instantly shifted weight from one leg to the other. He tried to direct his anxiety into the leisurely movement, and it caused his hips to sway from one side to the other, making her think of all kinds of stupid associations, such as lapdance and snake hips.

With those rather tight khaki pants, it was impossible to prevent her eyes from darting to the bulging thighs and the evident package he was delivering between them.

Jesus fucking Christ, pull your shit together…

"I'm going to get you out of here," he promised.

"That's cute of you," she tiredly threw in, getting far too much satisfaction out of the reaction her words managed to pull out of him. He blinked a few times, and the colossal chest heaved as if the man was trying to catch his breath. "Funny that you need to fuck me to be able to do so."

Another switch from side to side, a sway of those goddamn khaki-covered hips.

"I'm almost positive that the only surveillance they have on this room is that camera over there. The screen is in another room," he told her, sounding stupidly proud of his debatable skills in spying. She pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. "But the guys there are usually watching tv," he hurried to add.

"I doubt they will today if your orders are to rape me." Again, he looked abashed, eyes darting to the floor and back to her. Was this guy thick in the head or something? "Probably got their beers popped and their pants down by now…" she said, and the man let out something close to a squeal.

"That is exactly why we have to… provide them with something until I come up with a plan."

She looked at him and almost smiled. Like one would smile at a daft dog that was far too eager to please.

"You just said you don't hurt women," she said.

"That is why I very much wish you would co-operate," he answered.

"You are the weirdest torturer ever."

"I - I am not a torturer. I'm just a soldier," he tried to assure her with that climbing voice. He was shitty at concealing his uneasiness. The man was completely flustered.

"Then why did they assign you with this… task," she demanded to know. It was yet again laughable: as if he was the one being grilled here. He wouldn't answer, and she cocked her head to the side.

"Ever interrogated with your dick before?" She blurted.

His hands were trembling. Slightly, but they were.

"Negative," he said, voice tight.

Was this guy….

Was he a virgin?

The twisted concept of some romantic chivalry, the nervousness, the respectful distance he kept, and the fact that his hands started shaking when she said a dirty word, all pointed to the possibility that he very much might be.

She thought he was picked because he was big, because his obvious blessings in the crotch department also held a promise of pain. But this guy certainly didn't know what the heck he was doing. And not only because he wasn't a torturer or because he didn't want to hurt a lady. She could almost swear, hand on Bible, that this man had never been with a woman. Not much further than the first base, anyway.

"Well, get on with it then."

She told herself it was only because it was useless to postpone the suffering that would eventually come anyway.

She told herself it was not because she was trying to break a Guinness world record of developing Stockholm Syndrome to this guy and his adorableness. She told herself it was definitely not because she kinda sorta wanted to see how he would act when he had to actually pull that cock out and touch her with it.

He stared at her, eyes wide beneath that oversized hood, and she could swear it was his heart, not hers, that made that thumping sound.

"I am going to touch you," he informed her. Like the dumbest moron.

If she ever got out of here, and if she ever, ever told this story to someone, they wouldn't be able to believe it.

He took his gloves off - why would he even bother to do that? - and let them drop to the ground.

His fingers were long, the fingernails meticulously cut. There were a few scrapes and scratches here and there on his palm, indicating his lack of coordination. Clumsy boy.

When he reached for her, she assumed he would go for her tits, or her waist, or grope her ass. But he didn't. Fingers cupped her face, trembling still, before they slid over her neck and grabbed her throat, not to choke, but to revel. Like she was a sculpture or something, and he wanted to know how the material felt. How soft she was.

She looked into his eyes, because eyes told everything; they would betray a flash of sadism or whatever else she still expected from this strange man. They roamed all over her, darted across her face, every now and then to her eyes, but mostly avoided her stare like the plague. He wouldn’t hold a gaze for much longer than a glimpse of a second. And there was still no sign of lust for inflicting pain. Only perplexed wonderment.

Her hands and arms were numb because of the position she was in, hands tied above her head, blood flow inhibited. But she paid it no mind as his hand traveled down her neck, caressed her collarbones, and then stopped right before he reached the gap between her breasts, free game in the white tank top she had been left with, along with her cargo pants and boots.

“Can I… May I kiss you?” He asked, his voice muffled and so thick that it was difficult to untangle what he had said.

It was such an odd request that her words left her, and she could only produce a whimpering sound at the back of her throat. He took it as a yes, and raised his hood, only enough to reveal a pair of thin lips among a light brown stubble. His mouth opened slightly, then closed, then opened again, as if he didn’t know how to proceed.

He bent down like the giant he was, not hinging at the hips but hunching over towards her, probably trying to appear smaller but ending up looking like there was a tower falling on her. The smell of gasoline and sweat hit her as his lips met hers, parted, and a shy flick of tongue swept across her bottom lip. She tried to remember how to breathe and ignore the rush of wetness that told her she would have no problem whatsoever with him parting her nether lips too. He captured her lip, sucked, then opened his mouth wider and hers with it.

She answered his kiss - just a little bit, and he instantly deepened it and moaned into her mouth. She fluttered her eyes open and saw that his were squeezed shut. He pressed a hand against her back and pulled her against his overwhelming body. All she could feel was muscle… and then some more. He was hard, the thick erection colliding with her stomach all but seductively. She went completely stiff, eyes wide and lips tight.

The man went even more rigid, if possible. He released her mouth with a grunt and buried his head in her neck.

"I can't -... I can't do this, I'm gonna go and tell him they need to find somebody else," he said in a strained voice, riddled with pain.

No. No.

The fuck he would.

If he would be replaced by somebody else, some crazy, blood-drunk soldier with cold eyes and a knife, some jerk-off who hadn't had a go with a woman since their last leave, she would fucking die.

"Please don't," she hushed and swallowed against him, the place where his hood and the collar of his shirt revealed skin.

"I want it to be you," she continued to whisper in his ear, meaning to say If it has to be somebody, let it be you, but choosing to deliver a sentence as persuasive as possible. As inviting as possible.

So that he wouldn't leave her in the hands of someone with no mercy.

"Scheiße…" The hot air brushed against her skin, even through that hood.

"If only I could touch you too," she said, regretting it immediately. She was acting a little too enthusiastic in the midst of her panic. Trying desperately to prevent him from leaving.

But the hand on her back moved down a bit, and long fingers splayed over the small of her back, pressing gently.

"Don't tease me," he huffed, panting although they were both quite still.

Jesus Christ… at this rate, the KorTac could hire her to do the interrogations.

She wondered whether the surveillance team was looking at the scene, which was far too intimate and loving to be an interrogation. What kind of a man would try to pry information out of someone by embracing them gently? Kissing them hesitantly?

In a way, this was torture: she didn't know what would happen to her after… whatever this was. She didn't know what procedures would follow when the others found out he had no intel for them to tell.

Let's get this fucking over with.

"What's your name?" She asked, hoping that the puppy boy wasn't naive enough to tell her his actual name.

"They call me König."

King in german...

"König…-"

She meant to ask him to touch her so that this horrible, awkward mess would come to at least some sort of an end, but couldn't find the words. His name on her tongue seemed to do the trick, though. He ground his hips against her, and had she not been tied to the ceiling, the movement would have toppled her. The hand on her back went behind her knee and raised it to his hip. Then another hand slid down to do the same to her other knee, pulling her from the ground like she weighed nothing at all.

The strain on her arms was released, and the relief was heavenly. For that alone, she could've let him do whatever he wanted to her.

"You're so klein… small," he commented with her raised to straddle his lap and her face finally on the same level as his. "Small people make good snipers," he declared with a hint of longing in his voice.

She had a terrible urge to sling the bundle of hands over his head. And not for self-defense reasons.

"I'm not that small, you're just big," she said, like a beauty to the beast, like it was a cute scene in a movie where everybody was nice to each other. Her gut feeling of the man being a virgin only increased by the minute. He was so… blameless. It was downright unintelligible that he was a soldier.

But she had seen how brutal he was on the field, how he had struck holes in her teammate with a combat knife like he was playing tag and didn't quite know the rules. Didn't know that one stab in a well-picked spot would have sufficed.

She had seen him haul a grown man with 100 extra pounds of tactical gear on him up like the poor man was a barbell, and bring them down over his knee. The sound of a breaking spine would probably haunt her dreams for the rest of her life. She had simply gawked at the display of utter, brutal violence before her. Normal men, even soldiers of a special forces tactical unit, simply didn't do stuff like that. Hands-on, down in the mud, barbarian kind of stuff from medieval times.

And now the same man was fondling her like she was his sweetheart. Like he was about to carry her in the bedroom full of roses and other syrupy valentines shit.

"And what do they call you?"

The accent was really doing things to her, along with the few german words tossed here and there, absentmindedly like candy. He was an enigma with his colossal body, croaking voice, and gentleness that surpassed even the violence.

"Valkyrie."

"You've got to be kidding me," he said, astonished.

"My team found out I used to do fencing, and I'm blonde, so…"

It was silly and the swords weren't even that big. One could hardly call them swords at all, the pointy little things they were.

But the situation indeed had taken a turn into a sick fairytale. Like, come on. Valkyrie and König? Some stupid hippie would've loved that: how it was meant to be, destined, even, that the two of them had met. That she was a damsel in distress, and he was here to save her from the ring of fire.

She stifled the urge to shake her head, to snap out of where this was spiraling into.

Affection.

They barely even knew each other's codenames. She was in a modern version of a dungeon, lit by a single light bulb, about to get raped by some edgy, mentally unstable goliath, she reminded herself. While perhaps psychologically interesting, he was not okay. This was not okay. She had been trained for situations like this.

Except that she wasn't. She was trained to withstand torture, battering, spending days in a cell where the lights never went out. She knew methods to draw the mind away from constant pain. But she hadn't received instructions on what to do in a situation where she wasn't even being questioned. Not even on the sly. Her call sign wasn't much of a secret. They probably knew who she was before they brought her to this room.

"There are many stories of valkyries in my Heimat," he prattled on enthusiastically.

"Yeah, I know the Nibelung saga," she said.

"Very heroic, very German tale."

"You ought to know."

"No no, I'm not German, I'm Austrian," he said.

This was turning into an odd conversation.

"König." She said in an attempt to bring his attention to the present moment. He fluttered his eyes, long lashes batting over that innocent-looking stare.

"Don't. Just… don't," she tried not to stutter.

He had lied to her about not being a torturer. Chatting with her like they were on their first date, discovering that they were actually intrigued about one another... It was insufferable. Although she was the one who had started it by asking his name…

"Right. Getting on with it," he said like he had been given an order. Her heart stung. Tears were welling up from the absurdity of this whole situation, from his silliness, from her having felt rather comfortable and safe in his hold. Fucking safe.

She should quit the army when she got out of here. If she got out of here. She wasn't right in the head to continue with this job.

"I've been an idiot," he told her.

You're damn right.

An idiot she could imagine herself falling in love with in another situation, but an idiot nonetheless.

"You should put on more of a fight, and…" he trailed off.

And you should be rough, you dumdum, she thought. Again, in another situation, she would've probably loved him to be rough.

"Roger," she said to him and heard him chuckle, saw how a few wrinkles appeared in the corners of his eyes. He lowered her down to the ground, and she hissed when her arms extended against the rope again. He let her go, gently, like it was his fault that she was attached to the roof.

"I would help you, but -"

"It's ok." She gave him a weighted look that told him to stop speaking. To get on with the action so that she wouldn't get attached even more than she already was.

He grabbed her by the throat again, doing a shitty job at trying to make it look like he was manhandling her. His eyes landed on her chest, and she could almost hear the wheels turning in his head, thinking about whether he should tear her top. Apparently deciding against it, he went for his trousers instead, pulling the belt buckle open with a click.

It had been a while, what with all the stress and the sleep deprivation not being an ideal combo to get her juices flowing. But nothing could prepare her for the surge of wet heat when the front of those light brown pants practically gave way for what must’ve been the largest bulge she had ever seen. It was almost vulgar, even more so when the fabric of his boxer shorts stretched at the sudden throb.

She realized her mouth was hanging slightly open, and she closed it carefully, but her lips parted again when he continued to shove both of those pants down. He didn’t even bother to take them off, and they were left somewhere mid-thigh, with belt buckle dangling in the air.

And God, he was huge.

It wouldn’t even stand up properly, even though there was no doubt that he had a full-on erection. It jerked between them like a threat, or a dare, but mostly it was just a long, thick, veined baulk that couldn’t support itself because it was just so goddamn big. He was uncut, but the foreskin had drawn back from the arousal, and the tip of his slit glistened with precum.

And he was flustered again, misinterpreting her stare as a sign of fear instead of awe.

"I promise I'll be quick," he whispered, and the first thing that her mind chirped back was Please don't. And not because it would probably be painful. But because she desperately wanted him to slide that monster in inch by inch and take his beautiful time with it.

"Uh-huh," she managed to say before the man codenamed King stretched his fingers toward her pants.

With trembling digits, he opened them and started tearing them down before realizing she could not spread her legs without him taking the pants off. And then he realized he couldn't take them off without taking her boots off.

So what happened was that her panties and pants were halfway down, and the Austrian hulk kneeled in front of her with his hooded face in level with her pussy. He turned his head to the side and leaned a bit on her thigh to unlace her boots, but she was pretty sure he did it mainly because he was embarrassed to look straight at her cunt.

She helped him as much as she could, raising her feet one by one for him to take the combat boots off. He tossed them somewhere to the side and tore her pants down, all the way down, and over her feet, leaving her in her tank top and socks.

He rose, his cock brushed her thigh, and she jerked like she had been scraped by some sharp object. It bounced at the contact, bumping against her again, sweeping a wet streak over her skin.

"Sorry," he mumbled like it was somehow worse than what he was about to do next. When he would shove… that thing inside her.

He picked her up again, almost in a hurry. Her heart was ramming against her ribcage and her mouth was dry as her feet left the ground. He was hard against her belly, flesh hot and throbbing and slick with precum that pushed out from the tip and left wet stains on her top.

This time she did raise her hands over his head and let the arms come down to rest on his shoulders. Her intuition told her she would soon need the support.

He moved her around like she was a doll, letting the erection drop between them to position himself against her slit. Her folds parted without effort as he slid against them, once, twice, before halting.

Don't comment about it, don't…

"You're wet," he grunted with delighted surprise.

"Yeah?" She said like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Just fucking do it, she yelled in her mind, lips drawn into a straight line so that even a dumbass like he could see that this was not the moment for hesitation.

And he didn't hesitate.

He searched, adjusted himself, adjusted her, spread his stance, grunted…

And it was pretty clear by now that he didn't know what he was doing. Her nipples brushed against his chest as he searched for the right spot with her in his arms, and she hoped he would've taken his shirt off so she could feel skin instead of cotton.

"There," she helped him with a whisper as he hit the right spot. He returned, probed, and she guided him. "Now up…", and he bent his knees while raising her slightly. The angle was right, and he finally drove in, slowly but surely.

The stretch was phenomenal. It hurt more than a bit after he had passed the entrance, and the delicious feeling turned into a burning sensation.

"Wait.." she begged, and he stopped immediately, panting like a runner.

"Back up a bit."

He did, pulling out almost completely before she bucked her hips to let him know he could push back in. And when he did, she gasped, and he moaned, so tight and so glorious that the sound that erupted from him was laced with pure need.

"Ach, you're tight.. soft…"

She clenched around him at his shameless commentary, and he let out another broken sigh.

Of course it's tight when you're so big..

He wouldn't go fully in, and she doubted whether he ever even could. She had never been this filled. But more was coming.

He withdrew again before thrusting back inside, deeper still.

"Oh Jesus," she gasped, "yes, just like that.." the words escaped her lips and she noticed his eyes were directed at her, drunk and half-lidded.

"Yeah…" he echoed, his voice shivering like a leaf. "Das gut?"

If her hands were free, she would've torn that hood away, buried her fingers in his hair, and pulled until he would expose his fucking throat for her to kiss and lick.

He began thrusting with a steady pace, shallow but intense, going deeper every now and then when he slipped. His hands shifted, one by one, to grab her by her butt to glide her up and down his length. It was fucking hot that he didn't need his hips to fuck her, that he could just move her around with his hands and slam her against it if he wanted to. Her ankles hooked around his waist on reflex, and her fingers flexed in the ties, trying to grasp onto something but finding only air.

"You feel so good," the short, agonized 'good' coming out more like 'gut'; and her pussy tightened, pulled, and sucked him like he was the best thing ever.

"Sch…shit," he breathed laboriously, taking a moment and thrusting even deeper, eyes closing like he was on the brink of losing consciousness..

He hit a spot that was both familiar and unfamiliar, and she was pretty sure that if someone was looking at the surveillance material, they couldn't tell whether the look on her face was of pain or pleasure. She couldn't keep herself in check, couldn't seize control anymore. She was so soaked at this point that the evidence of her arousal was heavy and loud. So audible that it made her cheeks hot.

"I wonder what you taste like," he mused, his hood shaking in sync with his thrusts. "Honey and raindrops, eh?"

"Mh," she sobbed, her thighs quivering. She wanted to spread them more, to let him see her and have a taste, to present herself for him to do as he pleased. But she couldn't move much in his grasp. It was like she had been propped up on a machine, buckled to a seat reserved just for her.

He took a wider stance as if hearing her thoughts on wanting even more of what he had to offer, and she held on to him as he shifted like the continental plates beneath her. He proceeded to fuck her while leaning his head against the side of hers, and she held on to him as he breathed into her neck. The occasional moan sounded more like a sob as his cock slid in and out, in and out, slick with her wetness.

"You're what they sing about in Rheingold," he kept talking that romantic bullshit in her ear while stuffing her with that long Austrian cock that would make most women squirt if he kept at it long enough. "Und Walküre…"

It was so good she wanted to cry. She thought about letting a tear or two slip and saying it was just for the show if he asked. Virgin or not, König was doing a pretty decent job in making her a writhing, weak mess. He was not too quick, not too slow, but set just the right, rigorous pace that would send her into oblivion. He became the fountain stone, the buoy in the storm. He was the man that would send her over the brink and the man to hold her unwaveringly as she fell.

"Not much longer," he informed her light-heartedly, like he was in the middle of a mission about to be completed. Completed to the fucking full.

She couldn't even begin to tell him that she was already there, because everything suddenly coiled and burst, and she was arching her back, making him reach even deeper, almost fully inside her, the heavy balls slapping against her ass as her toes curled and her body went completely rigid…

The sound that broke out was not a yell, nor a scream, it was a violation of her vocal cords. She had never sounded like this — like someone falling and meeting the ground with a strained, lewd groan. Like someone who had the orgasm of their life.

He startled, almost quailed from her. Not because of the screaming, nor the sounds she made after… but because she came, hard, while he was banging her like a battering ram.

"Genau so…" König rasped, taken aback but trying his all to cover it. He slowed down on instinct, letting her greedy pussy suck on him like it was giving him a blowjob, telling him he was a good, good boy… because her words had left her.

He moved a little, and she could see the flash of those eyes from within the darkness of the hood, knew that he was watching her intently as she swam in ecstasy with an open mouth and pinched nose and eyes that wouldn't focus.

"Schön," he continued, sounding fragile. Weak. Vulnerable…

She couldn't for the life of her look at him, look in those eyes that must've told her things she wasn't strong enough to deal with at the very moment.

Her head dropped and her thighs went slack, but König held her, steadfast like the most gallant knight. He resumed his earlier pace with caution and care, breathing distinctly with his mouth open under that black mask. She was limp in his arms, trying to hold on as best she could while listening how the cock drove into her again with moist, sloppy sounds.

The moans that followed didn’t suit a man of his build at all. She had expected brute strength and hoarse grunts, not pinched, needy sobs and a head softly pressed against her. Forehead against fucking forehead. And he probably didn't even know what it was doing to her because he was such a stupid, adorable little — ugh, big dumbass.

She wanted to grasp his shoulders, slide her hands under his mask and raise it, kiss those moans straight from his lips, and run her fingers all over his stubble, the chiseled jawline she had seen only once. She wanted to feel him, all of him, not just his hands and his cock, even though they were good. Or fucking best. It almost made her cry; the post-orgasm need to cuddle for a bit but not being able to do so because her hands were bound to the fucking ceiling of a fucking dull grey bunker.

"Can I… cum..?"

Was he asking her permission to…

"Can I cum inside… Please, I'm close," he panted.

"Yeah… Yes.."

He slowed down the pace as he drew out his own upcoming release, relishing the last thrusts like he was sampling the finest cuisine. She finally dared to look at him and saw that his eyes were open and full of naked, helpless adoration. Devotion, even.

She must have been imagining: they were only the eyes of a man who was about to nut good. But damn if that fevered, helpless stare didn’t succeed in touching her very soul. To her horror, he wasn't shy this time, but held her gaze, held it, held it — until his lashes fluttered and he went over the brink with a cry.

It echoed from the damp concrete walls, just a single, prolonged wail that eventually broke and ended in miserable panting.

She could feel his cock throbbing, shooting the load inside, emptying the whole magazine in her. How the seed welled up, unable to go anywhere before he would decide to pull out.

König laid his head on her shoulder and pulled her against him, and she was not suspended only in rope but in time and space as well. His shoulders moved up and down with the heavy breaths, and she pulled her tied hands to awkwardly brush his neck as he came down from heaven.

He was shaking. Shaking, and let out a whimper against her skin, and for a fleeting moment, she was sure he was crying or on the verge of doing so.

"König?"

He shuddered a sigh, taking a moment to himself.

She felt hollow. Not raped, not assaulted, not abused. Just hollow, knowing what had happened between them would not be a recurring thing. That there was no 'them', not really. Not in the real, actual world.

"You can let go of me now," she whispered, although that was the last thing she wanted him to do.

But he did as she proposed, lowering her down and sliding out of her only after her feet had met solid ground. He pulled out carefully, gently, like he was leaving his beloved. Warm fluid descended down her left thigh in a streak, indicating that it had been a while for him.

Her head was full of dumb thoughts, such as whether he had a girl waiting for him somewhere back home. In Germany perhaps — no, in Austria. And if he had, just how lucky that person was.

She wondered if he had found someone here, and if they were in the military or not.

She wondered if there was no one, if he was alone, and if he curled up in a fetal position every night before he fell asleep in some bed that was too small for him.

And whether he would get into trouble for violating orders.

"You were," he started, eyes directed to the ground, "magnificent."

Was I your first, King?

"You weren't that bad yourself," she complimented him back, and he huffed.

"You liked it?" He asked in a way that made her heart squeeze tightly in her chest.

"Wasn't it obvious?" She couldn't help but smile. Couldn't… Wouldn't.

"Ja," he chuckled while looking down at his boots with an interest that was totally born from shyness. "I'm glad I could please you," he said before tucking himself demurely back into his trousers.

She wondered if he was as aware as she was of the fact that neither of them had played out the part they were supposed to. It had all gone out the window the moment he had touched her again. Practically thrown out, as if they were defying death itself together.

He gathered her boots and helped her step first inside her panties and then the cargo pants. He had to go around her back and reach from behind to zip her up and put her belt on, and it was such a mundane, cute act that she thought that this was indeed the cruelest form of torture she had ever witnessed. He hovered over her after he was done, and stole a brief caress of her waist before crouching to lace up her boots.

He rose, and came back in front of her, and the silence between them stretched to a short eternity. There were so many things she wanted to say, things he probably wanted to say, thoughts buzzing in both of their heads like bees as his seed cooled down on her thigh and made her pants stick to her skin here and there.

She thought about thanking him for being gentle, but what was she really thanking him for? Raping her tenderly? With the attentiveness and passion of a lover?

Was it rape if she had enjoyed it? If she had had one of the most powerful orgasms of her life?

He was… she had no words for him. The way he had unraveled her in mere minutes was shocking. Devastating, to say the least.

"I will find a way," he promised for the thousandth time. "I will not let them hurt you."

She nodded slowly, continued to do so while looking at him, her eyes welling with tears.

“Hey, kleine Süße, don't worry.” He brushed her cheek with his knuckles, soft and sweet. "I will be your Siegfried."

She didn't have the heart to remind him that both Siegfried and the valkyrie died in that story.

Part 2:

[sukunasdirtylaugh]

chaos at bay (god!toji x f!reader)

tags and warnings: god!toji x f!reader, mentions of naoya harrasing the reader but it is very broad, mentions of being lured against a wall, reader's bracelet keeps her safe causing naoya to back off (cutting of hands), hellenistic // greek inspired elements and references to literature, toji being protective and blaming himself, mentions of helen from Greek mythology, reader being slightly reassuring, slight angst but good intentions here ((inspired by this mini-series))

"has he done anything to you?" there's no skip of a beat in your heart as toji holds you by the waist, your mind dizzy after the serpent tongued god naoya caught you by surprise. everyone in toji's temple knew naoya was forbidden from entering the grounds. so with five minutes, the god not only tried to get inside your mind but tried to lure you against a wall. fortunate for you, the man was taken aback by your push and the bleeding of his hands. all thanks to toji's barcelet.

you're too shaken to speak, deciding to shake your head from fear your voice might break. toji's brows furrow, the scar upon the corner of his lips more prominent as your heart churns at the idea that he might blame himself for this. no, the man has done everything to save you. removing you from marrying into tribesman leader sukuna to gifting you shelter here, in the afterlife that is neither life nor death, you have found refuge between this land. a land you had no intention of leaving.

"I should've told him to leave when I had the chance," he huffs, running a hand through his black shiny hair, "should've banned him from entering, but yet I was afraid of the higher ups knowing..." he shakes his head, speaking aloud before realizing that he was speaking in your presence. toji feels an immense sense of guilt. you can see that in his eyes and his frown. the way his hand is protectively around your waist as he scans for any external visible wounds or signs of discomfort he might have just said.

"it's fine," you croak. "I'm okay."

"I should have never let him return."

"the bracelet kept me safe."

"nevermind the bracelet, I made an oath to ensure your safety. and I... I'm no better than the fools living under Odysseus' roof."

"that's not true," while you might not be entirely sure what he refers to, your gentle hand reaches his arm, causing the god to slightly wince, "you have given me a home, provided shelter, and a place to call home. how can a man call himself a fool for doing that?"

"one who doesn't keep..." annoyance sweeps through his eyes, not towards you, but himself. and you wonder what sort of self hatred a man like him might carry. he sighs. "I made a promise. you're my responsibility."

"I'm fine, toji."

"I know you are, but that's still not enough." his voice lowers, "he could have... you could have..."

"he couldn't've hurt me with the bracelet on," you clarify, stepping forward, "and I would never dream to be with a brute like that. hasn't sukuna been enough? you saw what kind of monster he was and I'm sure naoya was no different." he sighs.

"I'll make sure to make a report with the higher gods."

"and what will they do? I'm just a simple human, toji." his eyes spark in betrayal as he looks down at you from his high stature.

"you forget how the most important woman in the world to these gods was helen of troy, a human. and make no mistake, I will envoke such chaos if it means keeping men like that away from you. you will be treated with such honor. even if it costs a life or thousands in exchange for your peace and safety."

[one-piece-aus]

Can I request Whumptober No.13 for Yan Rob Lucci or Yan Kaku?

Sure thing! ^-^

Whumptober Day 13

Yandere Lucci x Reader

"Hello there," you greeted a little white pigeon wearing a red tie. "Aren't you cute."

"Thank you."

You jumped, startled, and surprise clouded your face. "You can talk?"

"Yes, but don't tell anyone, okay?" The pigeon held up his wing as if they were hands forming the shush sign.

"Ohhhhh okay," you nodded. In awe and fascinated by this talking bird, you didn't pay attention to the noises next door. 

For hours you asked the bird questions until it announced it had to leave. Sad to see it fly away, you waved goodbye until it flew out of sight. You'd never see it.

At least, that's what was supposed to happen.

A month later the pigeon came back, and your excitement skyrocketed. You were beginning to believe the talking bird with a tie was all a dream you had, you were happy to know the bird's real. You asked more questions but then you asked one you should've asked sooner.

"Do you have a name?"

"I do, forgive me for not introducing myself," the pigeon apologized and bowed. "I'm Hattori."

"Hattori, huh." You petted his little head. "Do you have an owner?"

"Mhm, but he's... busy right now, so I came here out of boredom."

You giggled, "I hope I don't get in trouble for keeping you away from him."

"Oh, I'm sure he wouldn't mind." Hattori leaned into your hand. "I think he'd like you."

"You think so?" You mused before going into the kitchen to get Hattori a snack.

Little did you know, his owner was standing under your balcony, arms crossed and leaning against the wall.

Like clockwork, you saw Hattori once a week now. You invited him inside a few times, but he declined, saying he preferred being outside with fresh air. At least, that was before tonight.

"[Y/n], it's cold outside, can I fly in?" Hattori shivered with his wings wrapped around him.

"Of course." You stepped to the side and let the poor bird into your home, forgetting about your glass of water on the counter. "Here let me get you a blanket."

You left the balcony door open and headed to the hallway closet, taking out the handstitched blanket you made for the bird you had created in your spare time. When reached, Hattori was perched on the counter beside your drink.

"Here," You laid the tiny thing around the bird. "You should feel better now. Oh, I almost forgot about my drink." You picked up the glass, sipping the contents. "What kind of owner leaves his pet out in the cold of night? Actually..." You placed the drink down and held your head. "I don't feel so good."

The counters became sideways and the ground came up to slam into you. Hattori flew up from the counter, you didn't quite see where he went. The last thing you saw was dress shoes approaching you.

Tag: @bookandyarndragon @roseoftrafalgar

[nycbabyjoey]

The Mysterious Stranger

NSFW 18+ Only

Contains ABDL/MDLG/MDLB Content

This short story is inspired by one of my favorite ABDL captions of all time, The Mysterious Woman by BabyTB. So, all credit for the concept goes to them! Click the link and read their caption if you haven't already!

Edit: The Tumblr overlords decided my story tagged as sexually explicit was TOO sexually explicit. I've removed an image.

The whirr of the buzzing vacuum cleaner was so loud that Daniella almost didn't hear a knock on the door that would change her life forever.

She had been lost in thought as she did her chores, maintaining the home she shared with her husband Jack. It was the same routine as Jack went to his job as a powerful stock broker; she would spend the days scrubbing on her hands and knees and slaving away in the kitchen all for her husband to return home as they silently ate dinner together. Their marriage had lost its spark and life for Daniela just wasn't exciting anymore.

That's what Daniela was thinking anyway when the sudden knock came to the door. No one typically visited during the day. She wondered who it could be.

She turned the vacuum off, setting it against the armrest of the couch.

"Coming!" she shouted, as she briskly made her way through the living room and to the front door.

Daniela's face turned red, both out of embarrassment and anger, once she saw who was behind the door. A woman she didn't know at all was stood on her front lawn wearing a pair of jeans, a pair of glasses, and nothing in between, leaving her firm breasts to visibly wobble with every little movement.

"What's the big idea?!" Daniela shouted at the stranger.

"Is Jack home?" the stranger asked innocently. "I've heard he's been a really naughty boy."

That two-timing jackass, Daniela thought to herself. I should've known he was cheating on me this whole time, but I can't believe this little tramp has the audacity to show up when she knows he's at work!

"Jack happens to be my husband," Daniela responded firmly. "And he's not home right now, so why don't you take your skanky ass off of my front doorstep and never come back!"

Daniela went to slam the door, but the stranger's hand caught it and pushed back. Daniela marveled at how strong this woman was, despite not appearing so.

"Seems like Jack's not the only one being naughty," the stranger said, less smiley this time.

"Look, you have three seconds to get off my property or I'm calling the police," Daniela said, pushing the front door with all her might to no avail.

"Now, now," the stranger responded. "Is that any way to talk to your babysitter?"

Babysitter? That wasn't the response Daniela expected. What the hell was this lady on about?

"Fine, you asked for it," Daniela threatened, letting go of the door. She marched into the house to grab her phone.

"Daniela Gabriela Villafani," the stranger shouted with a harsh tone that stopped Daniela right in her tracks, "You come back here this instant!"

The sound of her full maiden name stopped Daniela right in her tracks. She tried to tell her body to keep moving, but she couldn't stop herself from turning back around and opening the door for the stranger. The woman's words had struck fear into her and, as if by some sort of magic, she was under her control.

The stranger grinned as she entered the home. "That's a good girl," the woman praised, petting Daniela as she walked past as if she were now her pet.

"Wh- what's going on?" Daniela managed, quivering in the open doorway.

"You and Jack have a new babysitter," the woman stated. "And she's going to make a few changes around here."

Daniela blinked and, by the time she opened her eyes, all the changes had been made. The house was the same, but with a few very noticeable additions. Across the foyer in the dining room, two chairs that normally sat at the large dining table had been suddenly replaced by two large highchairs. The living room where they stood had toys splayed across the ground - dolls, fairy princess wands, and a glittery unicorn hairbrush. A baby gate separated Daniela from her staircase. None of these things were here before, Daniela thought. We don't have any kids!

Daniela looked down at herself for the first time. She gasped at the sight, causing something to fall out of her mouth that hadn't been there before. She watched as her pacifier hit the ground, falling past a bunny-covered onesie and a short pink skirt before it the floor next to her fluffy, pink-striped, thigh-high socks! That's when Daniela realized - she was the kid!

As if to confirm, Daniela lifted her new pink skirt to see what was underneath, completely unconcerned that the intruding stranger would see her undergarments (she would be seeing them a lot anyway). Sure enough, her underwear had been replaced with a pink pair of briefs decorated with the Powerpuff Girls.

"Aw, don't like it as much as your sexy wittle thong?" the stranger teased. "And you thought I was the slut."

The woman cackled as tears formed in Daniela's eyes. She couldn't help but feel scared and intimidated like she really was the age she was dressed as.

"Come on, dear," the stranger instructed, extending out her hand. "Let's wait for your brother to get home." Daniela couldn't resist taking the woman's hand and following her past the baby gate to the upstairs bedroom.

"Honey, I'm home!" Jack shouted, placing his keyring on the hook next to the front door. "What's for dinner?"

No response.

Jack was puzzled. His wife usually had dinner ready to go for when he got home at 6:30 p.m. Not only was his wife nowhere in sight, neither was his food!

He looked around at all the toys thrown across the living room, leaning down to pick up a baby doll. "Change me!" its recording cried as he gripped it. This is odd, Jack thought. Had Daniela been watching one of the neighbor's kids?

At that moment, Jack heard a muffled thwap followed by wailing coming from upstairs.

"Babe, is that you?"

Again, no response.

Jack dropped the doll and began to make his way upstairs, eyeing the baby gate suspiciously as he stepped over it. As he made his way closer, the sounds became clearer. Whack! Whack! Whack! Over and over again like the sound of a whip being cracked, followed by a woman's sobbing. And it was coming from the master bedroom.

Jack opened the door to discover that their bedroom had completely transformed. Their beautiful king-sized bed was now a twin, with pink pillows and a Disney Princess comforter surrounded by a pink sparkly canopy fit for a fairy princess. Sat on the bed was a shirtless woman that Jack had never met and across the woman's lap was Daniela with her Powerpuff Girls underwear around her ankles and her pink skirt lifted up, exposing her bare bright red butt to her husband.

The whipping sound continued, which was simply the woman's hand lightly hitting Daniela's backside. Despite the light amount of force, Daniela kicked her legs and bawled uncontrollably, begging for the punishment to end.

"What the fuck is going on here?!" Jack shouted. "That's my fucking wife! Get your sick kinky crap and get the hell out of my house!"

The spanks stopped, but Daniela looked at Jack in desperation as if to say "save yourself." The stranger just turned to Jack and said, "Well, well, well. You have an even worse potty mouth than Little Dani. No respect for authority, you two."

"Get the fuck out," Jack demanded, pointing at the bedroom door. "Last chance."

Maintaining unwavering eye contact with Jack, the woman tapped Daniela on the right butt cheek causing her to sit straight up. The woman stood up off the bed and paced slowly over to Jack. She was about the same height as Jack, but somehow with each step she took towards him, Jack felt smaller and smaller despite how confident he had been a second ago. He tried to stand his ground, but his legs shook in fear and by the time she had walked over to him, tears were streaming down his face.

"This is your last chance, mister," the woman shot back at the trembling boy. "Say sorry to me this instant for your rude tone."

Jack knew he didn't want to apologize - it was him who was wronged! And this woman shouldn't have been intimidating to him anyway, but yet... she was! Jack couldn't explain it, but he would've said anything in that moment to avoid being on her bad side. "I- I- I'm s-sorry!" he stammered.

"Sorry for what?"

"I'm s-sorry f-for my rude tone!" he shouted, bursting uncontrollably into tears on the last syllable. He had tried to be tough - he was a power player, goddammit! But this strange woman had made him into a blubbering mess. And not only that...

"And look," the woman said, gesturing at Jack. "You went and had a little accident."

Jack wiped the tears from his eyes as he looked down to confirm. It was true! His work khakis were soaked and not from his tears. He had pissed himself.

"Don't worry," the stranger continued. "I'll take care of everything."

She snapped her fingers and Jack was on the floor. His business suit was completely gone, replaced by just a shirt and a large diaper to hold any further accidents. A bright blue pacifier muffled his sobs.

"Even your older sister kept her pants dry," the babysitter said condescendingly. "Guess you'll be the baby of the family."

Jack continued to cry as his babysitter picked him up for the first of many diaper changes.

"Jack, stop crying!" Daniela pleaded. "You know I'm not allowed to change your diaper on my own."

Daniela rolled her eyes as her husband rolled around on the nursery floor in his dirty diaper, banging his fists on the soft play floor.

It had been six months since the mysterious woman claiming to be the married couple's babysitter had entered their home and made it her own. And it had been six months that the two adults had found themselves unable to resist her control. She simply told the two that they could never leave the house, sometimes confined specifically to their nursery, and that was enough to render the pair unable to walk out the door and escape their new lives.

The husband and wife had now become baby brother and older sister. Jack stayed in diapers, was spoonfed baby food, played with blocks and stackable rings, and was tucked into his crib at night, belly full of the woman's breast milk. Daniela got the privilege of cartoon briefs, mac and cheese and apple juice, and her princess bed, but it wasn't any walk in the park. For one, she had to stay in the nursery with baby Jack, who couldn't keep his diaper clean for more than a couple of hours.

As she played with her Barbies on the nursery floor, she thought about her marriage six months ago. It hadn't been perfect and she had certainly complained about the lack of passion. But in retrospect, it had been nice. Sure, they didn't have sex SO often, but when they did, wow! She dreamt about sitting on Jack's big fat cock, up and down, until she just couldn't take it anymore and she just...

She sighed at the reality that that hunk was currently the man who was weeping next to her over his soiled diaper. Both her and Jack had been told they couldn't touch Jack's diapers and, like all their babysitter's demands, they were forced to obey. That juicy cock was imprisoned forever behind a pair of Pampers.

Daniela was lost in thought so long, she hadn't even realized that she had been absent-mindedly bashing her Barbie's genitalless crotches together, giving her butterflies like it had before she had discovered sex. Her unicorn panties started to dampen. She wasn't allowed to touch Jack's pants, she realized. But she could touch her own.

She used one hand to continue scissoring her Barbie dolls and she used the other to pull down her childish panties and touch herself for the first time in a year. The sensation was electric and thrilling. She had never become aroused this quickly in the past, but now she was like a starved animal. She continued to rub her clit as her husband's cries faded in the background.

The babysitter sat downstairs watching TV as she heard the mixed chorus of Jack's whines and Daniela's moans.

She shook her head. "Those two are always misbehaving," she muttered to herself.

For six months, she had been wrangling the two rugrats. Whether she'd catch them trying to climb over the baby gate (which was several feet shorter than either of them, but hilariously they were unable to step over) or throwing food in protest and begging for a piece of ribeye steak, she had had to deliver spank after spank after spank to get the couple to behave. But, they just would not accept that they weren't adults anymore. They were her playthings.

She had broken them in rather well despite all that, she thought to herself. Sure, she had obviously used her magic to make Jack have a little accident. But, most self-respecting men would have at least tried not to use their diaper after that. She had given him the option; she didn't use any magic! Regardless, little Jack was a big diaper-filler.

And now, here was Daniela trying to do big girl things. It was such a shame - she had been the good one! Oh well... this inappropriate behavior couldn't go unpunished.

The babysitter snapped her fingers again and smirked from ear to ear as she heard "No. No! No! No! NOOOOO!!!!!" echo from upstairs.

Just as every nerve in Daniela's body was shooting off and she was about to finish, the exhilarating rubbing excitement had stopped entirely. She looked down to realize that she wasn't rubbing her princess parts anymore; she was rubbing the front of a big, thick diaper. All her clothes were gone except for it.

"Don't you know I have eyes in the back of my head?" a voice said. Daniela turned to see the stranger stood in the doorway of the nursery. She simmered in anger, tears streaming down her face. How could she do this to her? Why was she doing this to them? What had they done to deserve this? Their life had been boring, sure. But, they weren't bad people and this was NOT the kind of excitement they had been looking for. And now, one brief moment of ecstasy stolen away. Daniela hated her.

Nonetheless, the babysitter rubbed salt in the wound, "Maybe if you stop being naughty, you can get your potty privileges back. But for now, I'll keep you both as baby twins. And you know what that means? Both of you can breastfeed for dinner. That's why I have two boobs, after all. Now, you two grind on each other before then. I want to watch you get all frustrated, unable to feel anything through your thick, puffy diapies!"

If you like my content, please consider supporting my Patreon where you can read exclusive stories just like this for only $5! Thanks!

[xwritingdixonx]

Till Death Do Us Part | Chapter 4 |

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series masterlist

Summary: The Georgian group and the Blackwell family have their first interaction together over breakfast.

Warnings: descriptions of a physical fight, death / accidental murder, language

Word count: aprox. 4k

Tags: @fuseburner @catisnotademonn

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The gravel underneath your feet crunched as you crouched down behind the brick building. Tommy was close behind you.

You were on your way back to Alexandria when you passed a shopping strip where you decided to grab any more last-minute supplies. There was a pharmacy, a couple sketchy-looking restaurants, and a liquor store.

The plan was to park the trucks a mile or so away, go scavenge the shopping center, then make your way back to the trucks with what you'd found. Henry stayed back with the trucks to make sure they were protected while the rest of you made the walk to the stores. It all went smoothly. Until, when you got back to the trucks, Eddie had forgotten his pack at one of the shops you'd cleared.

After you had a few remarks to say in response, he went back for it. He should've been back within 20 minutes max but when he didn't return, you and Tommy went to look for him. And that's where you had seen Eddie on his knees, hands in the air, a lady with long brown hair pointing a gun at him. Her clothes were raggedy and stained with dirt. She was holding his pack in her other hand. He was trying to reason with her but you were too far to hear what he was saying.

"I'm gonna go around back." You whispered back to Tommy, "Cut through the pharmacy and just grab her." You could see from the look he gave you that he didn't like that idea, "It's one girl, I got this."

You slipped through the back door of the pharmacy, slipping through the aisles to make your way to the front. The sound of glass crunching under your foot makes your body recoil. Fuck. Whatever voices you heard, fell silent. It all happened so fast, she stormed into the pharmacy and you had a choice to hide now, fight later. Or just get it over with.

You grabbed her, pointing the gun to the ceiling. With her free hand, she threw a punch which hit you perfectly in the jaw. It wasn't a hard punch, you'd been hit harder but it was the warm blood you felt on your tongue and the familiar taste that took you a back. You wrestled her for the gun and once you felt your finger slip into the familiarity of the trigger, you pulled.

It was when she fell to the ground, blood pooling beneath her did you realize the small bump of her stomach.

It was as if your feet took a few steps back on their own and your brain stuttered as it tried to process what you did. Your hands trembled, gun still in hand and your ears fell quiet. Only a buzzing noise remains. You understood now, what Eddie was trying to do, he was reasoning with her, he was trying to get her to come back to Alexandria.

You brought your hand up to pull the neck of your shirt off your throat as the nausea rose in your throat. Your hands fell to your knees as your chest heaved with short breaths. Tommy rushed into the pharmacy to makre sure you were okay from the sound of the gunshot. "Y/n, Y/n"

"Y/n?" Daryl came around the corner, wandering into the kitchen looking for you. You looked up from your spot at the counter chopping onions and greeted him with a warm smile and a sweet goodmorning. Stood around the kitchen with you was Cecilia and the boys.

“What are y’all doin’?” Cecilia stood at the kitchen island, kneading a ball of dough, folding it in and out of itself. There was a basket of potatoes, still with dried dirt on them, sitting next to the kitchen sink. Luke was washing them, then passing them off to Jace to be cut into cubes. There was a large pan sitting on the stove, the fire underneath warming the oil within. You used your index finger to clean each side of your knife, the chopped onions that remained on it falling on top of the already existent pile.

“Celia” You spoke wiping your hands from the onion juices onto a kitchen towel, “take this over for me please.” Celia nodded at you and took the cutting board, swiping the onions into the hot pan. “Come” you murmured to Daryl as you walked by, taking him by his hand, leading him down the hall to the large sliding glass doors which led to the back yard. The sun was bright in the baby blue sky, it’s beams radiating warmth on your skin.

The backyard looked radiant in the early morning. The grass was slightly overgrown, random weeds and flowers taking a home there. The porch was a reasonable size. On one end there was a fireplace that looked to be never lit, circled with outdoor seating. The other end bore a small picnic bench, in the middle of it was a picnic basket that was full of bright oranges, dark green leaves still attached. All four corners of the porch held large pots full of flowers.

In the far left corner of the backyard there was a wooden chicken coop. In the right corner, there was a small orange tree, the dark leaves decorated with orange hues. Next to the tree, lining the entire right side fence, was a large garden full of more plants. But not any plants, these were herbs for the kitchen. Daryl could practically smell the lavender and mint from his spot on the porch. Then there was a clothes line, empty at the moment. And lastly four large wooden planter boxes, all flourished with different fruits and veggies. Written on the wood was what grew in them.

Nellie was knelt down at one, gloves covering her hands from the dirt. When she heard the doors slide open she turned to wave and smile, shielding her eyes from the sun as she said good-morning to Daryl and briefly asking him how he slept. “Deanna’s having a little meeting at the church, after we’ll have breakfast. Invite your group.” You instructed Daryl, arms crossed over your chest. He simply nodded at you, catching his bottom lip to gently chew on, “What’s wrong handsome?”

He was anxious. Anxious for you to meet his group, for them to meet you. He hadn’t mentioned you, not once, and to say he felt guilty would be an understatement. It was as if he never claimed you, was never proud of you, which was the farthest from the truth. You were the one thing Daryl was proudest of even if he felt like he never deserved it, always saying you were too good for him, too pretty, too kind. He wasn’t worried about them liking you, there was no way in hell they wouldn’t. He was worried about you liking them. Your opinion mattered most to him but if for some reason your feelings were off, he’d be torn.

But you lived in the same community now. You were no longer thousands of miles away, states away, potentially dead. You were closer than ever, a street over to be exact.

Rick had most likely already told them, considering Daryl didn’t return to the shared house last night.

His shoulders shrugged, mumbling a i don’t know, to you. You smiled at you and nudged him with your elbow, “i’m not mad at you, ya know that ?” You caught his eye, a hint of seriousness there. Daryl furrowed his eyebrows together as if he didn’t know what you were hinting, “For leaving, for not looking, for it being so long, for…..anything.” A heavy sigh escaped your lips, as if you yourself were coming to terms with forgiving him. Daryl didn’t seem to waste a second as he wrapped you softly in his arms, your head resting comfortably on his shoulder. “M’sorry”

You rubbed a hand down his back, “I know.” You could’ve stayed like that, you could’ve fallen asleep like that, almost as if you were swaying in his arms. You gave him a hard pat on the back and slipped away, “Alright go, I got potatoes to get back to”

Daryl slipped his way into the yellow front door of the shared group home. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to do, hide ? Slip past everyone ? “Good-morning” That thick southern drawl disrupted Daryl practically freezing him in his boots. Daryl stood up straight, facing Rick and the rest of the group who all wore knowing yet curious grins on their faces. It felt as if Daryl was a teenager who’d snuck out the night before and was now busted by his parents, “Morning.”

There was a second of awkward silence as no one knew exactly what to say or do. There were a thousand questions that could be asked but the walls Daryl had built still remained and no one wanted to pry. Carol on the other hand, didn't seem to mind "Where is she?" Daryl shifted on his feet "At her place." Carol waited for more than just that, "Okayyy so..." Carol had that typical awaiting smile on her face, poking Daryl more. "There's uh..." Daryl scratched the back of his neck, it was as if he didn't know what to do with himself, "....a meetin' at the church, we're supposed to go."

"Alright," Rick bounced a still sleepy Judith on his hip, "Everyone get ready, leave Daryl alone."

The group got ready, attempting their best to look presentable yet comfortable in their new environment. They weren't sure what they expected from you or your group. Rick had mentioned to them that it looked like you were with a large group, seeing the house size and the other people that had stood with you on the porch the day before. Were you stuck up, clean, and polished like the rest of the Alexandrians? Or were you more like them?

On your walk to the church, you grabbed Tommy to come with you. You refused to go in there alone and whoever you asked to come with you, represented you, represented your family. And who better than the tall, buff, texan man himself? “Ya nervous?” Tommy asked as the small building came into view, you thought to yourself, were you? You weren’t until Tommy mentioned it, realizing you were walking into a room full of strangers. Practically sitting there waiting to judge you for who you were. “Well now I am.”

The wood doors to the small brick building creaked open, distributing whatever Deanna was saying. Both yours and Tommy’s boots were heavy on the wood floor as you walked down the narrow aisle. Eyes were instantly on you. The way your long hair softly flowed with each of your steps, the way your arms fell at your side, the sway in your walk, like you knew where you were going and who you were.

The black jeans you wore hugged your curves perfectly. Your black shirt was fitted to your body, with a completely open back. The angel wings tattooed there on show. And for a second as you were turned around taking those 2 steps up onto the lifted floor, your back and Daryl’s back aligned perfectly and it made sense as to why Daryl picked up that angel winged vest at the beginning.

The silver accents of your jewelry complimented your all black outfit perfectly. Like those rich victorian people who decorated themselves in gold and pearls to show off their wealth. There should've been a crown on your head becasue had royalty existed now, it would be you. The way you carried yourself, the way you stood next to Deanna. Your hands intertwined, your chest broad and proud, paired with your toned arms, and your height. You standing next to Deanna made her look so much smaller than she was, in height and in leadership.

“How’s it going?” Deanna whispered to you, “Good” you replied giving her a reassuring smile and a wink. She smiled at you before turning back to the room, “This is Y/n, Y/n Blackwell…..my right hand.” She said that sentence with pride and maybe a hint of arrogance, your eyes glanced over at Tommy who raised his eyebrows at you with a grin. "And this is Tommy" Tommy threw up a hand to say hello, Deanna continued to speak. “I think we’ve come up with perfect jobs for everyone.” Deanna pulled out one of those little memo pads that she seemed to love so much and flipped it open to a page. “Okay so” Despite Deanna speaking, you could feel the eyes that still lingered on you.

It wasn’t in a judging way. More admirable. In awe.

"Sasha and Rosita you're gonna be joining the watch and gate crew, Tommy's in charge of that."

"Abraham you'll be joining the constrution crew, when you're not doing that you can help out on watch as well" As Deanna spoke you looked at each person she spoke to, remembering names and faces.

"Glenn, Tara, and Noah you'll be joining the run group. My son Aiden helps with that, as does Y/n's brother, Eddie"

"Carol's gonna help out in the pantry" An act. You had looked at Carol for a second and that's all you saw. The sweet smile, clean clothes, and wave she gave you. At this point she was topping the normal Alexandrian's.

"Maggie you'll be working with Y/n and I. When you're not, you'll be helping Y/n's sister, Nellie, with the farming.

"And lastly, Rick and Michonne. We're gonna call you 'patrol'. Henry, Tommy's brother, has been doing it himself. You make sure everything's safe, everyone's safe. If something happens, you bring it to myself or Y/n."

There was a commom theme in the jobs that Deanna assigned. Each person who helped, ran, controlled something within Alexandria all connected to you. There was no way it was a coincedence and Rick took note.

Your eyes met Daryls, who sat in the front row next to Tommy. He could see the way the corners of your lips almost formed a smile but you caught yourself before it could. Daryl looked at you deeply, eyes soft, returning your same smile. "Y/n, anything you wanna add?" Deanna snapped you from your gaze, as if she had caught you standing there gawking at your husband. "Uhm, we've prepared a breakfast over at the gazebo if anyone would like to join." You hoped you sounded as welcoming as you intended to.

"You can get back to it you need to, I'll finish up here and send them your way." Deanna reassured you, you gladly accepted her offer. Nudging your head at Tommy to come with you. When you walked passed Daryl you brushed your hand over his shoulder, it was a subtle touch but it didn't go unnoticed by some, especially not Daryl.

As the group approached the large wooden gazebo, Daryl in lead, the sight before them could only be described as magical. The greenery and sunshine added to the affect. Four wooden picnic tables were pushed together and aligned to create one large table. There were 2 extra wooden chairs put at the heads of the table to complete the “dining table”. Pushed to the edge of the gazebo was a small wood table that held 2 coffee pots. One had hot black coffee, the other held steaming hot water. As well as a rectangular wicker basket that was piled up with random coffee cups. And three large mason jars lined up in a row. One was full of honey, the other full of sugar, and the last was full of random tea bags.

The long picnic table was full of plates, utensils, and glasses. The benches all had a different blanket that was folded long ways for extra cushion against the rough wood. Daryl watched you laugh at whatever Celia and Nellie had said to you, wide smiles on their faces as well. You and Nellie’s smiles were both wide, joyful, and lit up your whole face. Daryl watched you put down 2 glass pitchers, one full of plain water and the other full of what looked to be orange juice.

Your eyes caught Daryl’s and you waved him over, the rest of his group following. “You think this is gonna go okay?” Celia asked, hopping down from where she sat on top of the table. “Sure as shit hope so” Tommy muttered.

Nellie greeted the group with a high-pitched ‘Hi’ and a wide smile on her face. “Carl” Jace said happily as he trotted up to the boy, Luke close behind. It made you happy. To see them have a friend beside each other, to see them so happily greet their new friend and begin talking with smiles on their faces. They had tried to become friends with the kids already in Alexandria but the other parents always pulled their children away. Tommy had gone over to Carl and Rick to say hello, introducing himself as Jace and Luke’s father. The 3 boys looked like 3 peas in a pod. All paler completions, brown shaggy hair, though Jace and Luke’s was much curlier than Carl’s. They hadn’t known each other for long, 4 days at most, but they already seemed to have formed a bond.

"Hey" Daryl greeted you, "Hi" You took a step closer to him, standing closer to him than anyone ever has. "Deanna didn't give me no job" Daryl almost seemed disappointed as if he had been left out, "I got a job for you" For a second Daryl thought you were talking about yourself with the way you softly put your hand on his upper arm, but you roughly patted his arm, "Have breakfast with your family." He scoffed as he followed you, "Bout lunch time now"

He could hear you chuckle as you walked over to your seat. Almost everyone had already picked seats, besides a few others that were checking out the table with tea and coffee. You took one of the wooden chairs at the head of the table, before you could seat yourself, Daryl was behind the chair. Pulling it out and pushing it in for you before taking a seat on the bench to the right of you.

It seemed as if everyone was too intimated to take anything from the table in front of them. As if they were scared to even touch the pitcher of water. "You can take whatever you want, there's enough for everyone." Nellie reassured, adding things to her own plate. Despite the hesitation still being there, they began to fill their plates with food. "Is that bacon?" Carl abruptly said, maybe a tad bit louder than he meant for it to be. You couldn't help but laugh a little, "Yeah, Tommy found a pig a little big ago and we've kept most of it in the freezer"

None of you were exactly butchers, resulting in the bacon being poorly cut unlike how it used to be in the grocery stores. But it smelled like bacon, tasted like bacon, so bacon was bacon.

"There's some eggs in that one there but not too many, the chickens didn't lay shit this season" You motioned to the small red dutch oven that still had its lid on. The whole meal that laid out on the table was nothing short of shocking, regardless if there was enough scrambled eggs for everyone. There was a large white platter with floral designs around the edge, piled high with biscuits. Two large mason jars sat near them, one full of what looked to be strawberry jam. The other was a deep reddish purple, made from wildberries.

Your jam and your biscuits were always Daryl's favorite so you weren't surprised when he had 3 of them, smothered in jam on his plate.

There was another large pot full of well-seasoned, perfectly cooked, breakfast potatoes. And lastly there was the wicker basket, that had what remained of the oranges, after you had made orange juice.

Once everyone's hesitation wore off, conversations stemming from all different directions filled the air. You talked to Daryl and Tommy who sat on either side of you. "I hate to be the one to do it" Everyone's conversation was cut short by a femnine voice, Carol. You adverted your attention to her as you heard Daryl mutter a, please don't, under his breath. "But, how did you two meet?" For what felt like the fifth time today, eyes were once again on you.

You always hated that question. You weren't sure how people would react, you had heard your fair share of insults and questionable looks from people before. "Uhm, it's a little complicated I guess? D was Eddie's best friend growing up so we kinda grew up together." It wasn't too difficult to notice you and Daryl's age gap, which is why people turned an eye.

Your mom raised Daryl as if he was her own. Daryl never minded it, he actually preferred it, needing an escape from his abusive home. So Daryl was always there. But he was always there six years ahead of you.

"My mom moved us from Georgia to Virginia when I was fourteen and when I was twenty-one I went back to Georgia...that's where we met up again."

-

After breakfast, Maggie was the only one who stayed behind offering to help you clean up. There wasn't a plate left on the table that wasn't practically licked clean. Everyone else had separated into groups, going about their day with their full tummies, taking a tour of their new jobs and responsibilities. Daryl stayed back to help as well. But at the moment he was already on his way back to your home with as many dishes as he could carry.

You could tell Maggie was trying the most out of anyone in the new group. Especially with you. "The food was amazing" Maggie commented picking up all the silverware and tossing them into a basket. You had always been complimented on your cooking but that didn't mean you didn't appreciate some attention here and there. "Did you go to school for it?"

You shook your head at her and sighed, "Daryl always told me to. But I just always felt like if I did it as a job, I'd end up hatin' it." Maggie nodded at you with an understanding look in her eyes.

"The biscuits and jam were the best I ever had. I think they were better than my mama's" You couldn't help but allow a smile to form on your lips, "I've heard that more times than you'd think" You filled an old plastic laundry basket with the dirty dishes to haul back to your home, it was far easier to carry that way. "I can give you a jar of jam if you'd like." You offered, you could see Maggie begin to protest and you waved a hand at her. "I have more than enough in my pantry, won't starve without just one."

A silence settled over the two of you as you continued to clean but you could see the small smirk that lingered on Maggie's face. "Ya know" Maggie stopped cleaning and stood up straight, balancing the basket on her hip causing you to do the same. "You seem like a really good person." You movements stopped at her words. You knew deep down, you weren't. Sure you were kind and generous sometimes but after the things you did, how could you be considered a good person? You shook your head at her, "You don't know me."

"I don't need to."

[theunholybastard]

Kinktober: October 23rd - Handjob (Papa Emeritus I x Gender-Neutral!Reader)

Tags: Semi-Public Handjobs, Established Relationship, Cum Eating, 1st Person POV

"Cazzo..." Primo cursed softly, wincing at the thorns from the roses he was tending to pinching his fingertips. "I should've worn my gloves." It was always so peaceful, sitting in the gardens together in comfortable silence, taking a deep breath of the fresh, floral-scented air, watching him adoringly from the sidelines. I chuckle, walking up to him and running my nails up and down his back.

"I think your sensitive fingers are the least of your concern. You've been kneeling for nearly half an hour, love." I said. He tuts dismissively, wiping the sweat from his brow and waving me away. "I'm serious, Primo. You aren't as young as you used to be. Hell, I bet you wouldn't be able to stand back up if I wasn't here to help you."

"Thank you for the comment, dear." He says blankly, rolling his eyes in annoyance. His stoic face disappears when he tries to stand up on his own, his knees indeed giving out and slowly sinking back to the ground. He sighs deeply and shoots me a look. "Could you... could you help me?" He asks quietly though gritted teeth, the tips of his ears pink from embarrassment. I fight back the urge to say 'I told you so,' and extend my arm to help pull him up.

"Your poor knees." I coo sympathetically. "Shut up." He grumbles, limping his way towards the bench, sitting down with a huff. I sat down beside him, pouting at him in attempts to hold back a snicker. "I'm sorry, pookie. I didn't mean to be rude." I assure half teasingly, resting my head on his shoulder. He remains silent out of protest, but I can tell his anger is quickly dissipating, his heart too big and soft for his own good, especially when it comes to me.

Both of us take a moment to appreciate the beautiful nature surrounding us. Primo always takes fantastic care of his plants, large, green, and flourishing. Being in the gardens with him, though the area was public and anyone could just come through and disturb our peace, it still felt like it was just for the two of us. It was quiet, intimate. And somehow, the energy made my blood rush south.

My hand rests on his upper thigh, gripping the supple flesh softly. His eyes darkened noticeably, but he still didn't budge, silent and still as a statue. "Can I make it up to you, my Papa?" I hum, hands trailing further up to his groin. "Can I do anything to make you feel better?"

"I don't need anything to make me 'feel better', I'm fi- oh!" Primos breath catches in his throat when I start to stroke him through his robes. His once flaccid length slowly starts to kick in the palm of my hand, twitching and growing with a newfound life. He clears his throat. "Put your hand under my robes." He commands lowly. And of course, I oblige, as funny as it is to tease him sometimes. I'm trying to make him less angry with me.

My hands find their way underneath his robes, casually stroking him out in the open. I feel him harden now against my bare palm, his breathing growing heavier, and his stern expression relaxing, giving into the bliss. "Need some spit, amore." He grunts, the dry friction becoming slightly uncomfortable. "I brought some aloe vera gel out here with me, in case you got sunburnt. Do you want to use that?" I suggest. He shudders, just the thought of the coolness on his cock sending a shiver of arousal up his spine.

"It's better than nothing." He hums. I squirted the thick gel into my hand, rubbing it up and down on his manhood. He hissed through his teeth as his thighs tensed and his toes curled in his shoes. “You don't like?" I ask. "Keep going." He growls impatiently.

My hand rolled slowly over his cock, kissing at the skin on his neck, sagged with age, but still as sensitive as always. His hips started to buck into my hand, panting and moaning loud and uncaring. It's not like he would want me to stop if someone were to wander into the gardens. He would probably just shoot them an angry look, silently telling them to fuck off. Nobody disrupts his pleasure.

"Caro, I'm going to cum..." He rasps in warning. I respond by pumping faster, feeling his heavy cock throb between my fingers. He tilts his head back and lets go, a long sigh escaping his lips as his seed coats my hands, a little landing on his robes by accident. He hadn't noticed, if he did he would've erupted into rage again once his orgasm subsided. I use that opportunity to scoop some of his cum up with my finger, popping it in my mouth and sucking it clean. His eyes were lidded and fogged with lust as he observed me.

"Let me help you with that, amore." He purrs, his own hand coming down to his softening cock to gather some of his cum, stuffing his fingers in my mouth. I lick a long stripe up his fingers, swallowing it all down diligently while remaining eye contact. He smirks at the sight, popping my mouth off his fingers and kneeling down to clean the rest of his spend up with a couple of tissues. He watches me, stroking my hair adoringly. Finally, his attitude has shifted, bubbly and loving.

"Did that make you feel better?" I ask, fluttering my eyes up at him innocently. He sighs in defeat, nodding. "Yes, dear. Thank you." I smile, sitting back down next to him, my head returned to his shoulder, his body warm and comforting in the chill air of the gardens. Suddenly, I feel his cold fingers trail upward my thigh. "Now, if you don't mind," Primo whispers mischievously against my ear. "I would like to return the favor."

-

[mysticstarlightduck]

Writing Share Tag!

Thanks for the tag @drchenquill (here)!

This is a scene that will take place a bit further down the line in Supernova Initiative but I wrote it today and couldn't wait to share it so here it is!

(Spoilers for Supernova Initiative under the cut)

The door wooshed open and Zenyth stormed into the room, his boot's heels clacking loudly as he walked, practically stomping on the polished stark white concrete. "Where the fuck is Jasper?!"

In the high table, the Syndicate looked down upon him with a myriad of different expressions - a mocking, patronizing air being the main one.

The High Councilman, sitting in the center of the half-circle that was the table, answered lazily, barely looking up from the holographic screen in front of him. "Somewhere else, until you fulfill your end of the bargain. Are you certain that's pertinent information as it stands?"

Zenyth seethed, closing his hands into fists "He's my son! Of course, that's 'pertinent' information. You have no right- "

The man looked at him then, a smug smirk on his face and a condescending lilt to his voice that made Zenyth want him dead even more "But we do," He tapped his fingers on the shiny lacquer surface of the table, "You should've thought of that before dealing with us. We want those weapons, and you assured us AstroCorp would provide them."

Zenyth smiled, so vitriolic it seemed more like a snarl than an actual smile. All things considered, the latter was probably more suitable to the context.

"And my company will provide those weapons, as was agreed, once I see the benefit in allying my resources with your cause. And kidnapping my son isn't doing your case any favors here."

The High Councilman cut him off, teasing "Oh, since when did you - an anarchist, the most infamous weapons dealer in the system - start being picky with your clientele? Isn't your whole M.O. 'profit before anything else'? You don't exactly have the moral high ground, anywhere."

Zenyth answered, crossing his arms over his chest, " That may be true - but as a businessman, I want to ensure I'm siding with the winning side. There's no profit in funding a lost cause, much less in a civil war. That would just be bad business." He tilted his head slightly to the side as he continued, narrowing his eyes "Either way, my son has nothing to do with this - he has, literally, nothing to do with the deal. Or with the company."

The other's smirk grew even more unbearable and his voice dripped saccharine like rotten candy "Well, now he does. Besides, I'm starting to like this new arrangement quite a lot - the genius founder of AstroCorp is now my obedient puppet, ready to supply as many weapons as I need, whenever I require them. For as long as my army needs him to. Quite beneficial."

The other members of the Syndicate, who had been rather silent until then, exchanged a look - a silent toast to their not-so-small victory. He should've seen this coming. After all, this was a business of sharks and any weakness would be sniffed out like blood in the water from a mile away - Zenyth cringed at how overconfident he'd been to think he had the upper hand.

Still, that didn't wound his boldness. In fact, the amount of paternal rage he was feeling right now only bolstered his defiance. He gave the High Councilman a venomous glare and this time, he was the one who smirked. "Or... maybe one day you'll wake up to a bomb under your bed and that shit-eating grin of yours will get splattered into smithereens halfway across the galaxy with everything in this fucking base if you don't give me back my son."

Hushed whispers from between the members of the council echoed from the high table and around the vast hall. The two men glared at each other for a long moment, but then the High Councilman broke the silence.

With a laugh.

"Are you sure you want to make that threat?" The older man asked, standing up, before gesturing at the holographic screen in front of him, casually, as if Zenyth's prior threats were no more than the annoying buzz of a fly "Because I've got at least five, very trigger-happy, soldiers waiting in the other line - and they're itching to hear their next command."

Zenyth said nothing in response, mouth forming a thin line as he took in the implications of the not-so-unspoken threat. His eyes practically boiled with rage, and if a glare could kill, each one of the Syndicate's members would be dead a long time ago.

The High Councilman leaned forward, "Thought so. Are we in an understanding?"

Zenyth took a long while to answer, simmering in his anger and using all of his willpower not to do something irreversible right now. After a long, drawn-out moment that felt like a whole minute, he answered "Yes."

With that, he didn't even wait for the other to say anything else and spun in his heels and beelined it out of the hall as fast as he could. Mind racing, his thoughts were torn between the impulsive urge to kill the entire Syndicate and trying to figure out a way to locate his son.

And he knew exactly who to call to bring this place crashing down.

Tagging (gently) @your-absent-father @ray-writes-n-shit @drchenquill, @saltysupercomputer @agirlandherquill

@sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @cowboybrunch, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart @sm-writes-chaos

@leave-her-a-tome, @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams and OPEN TAG

[nocturnesmoon]

And if you die, I wanna die with you

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader Word count: 4.8k Tags: Angst, Hurt/No comfort, Heavy injuries, Flashbacks, Established relationship, Medical inaccuracies in terms of wounds and severity CW: Major character death, no happy ending, Canon Typical Violence A/N: ✨And if you go, i wanna go with you, and if you die, i wanna die with you, take your hand and walk away✨ (Read on Ao3) - "Would you still love me if i was a worm?" "Would you still love me if i was a Ghost?" -

The world is muted.

Completely muffled to your damaged ears, the aftershocks of the explosion were still fresh on your body. The sharp pain in your arm indicated most likely a broken bone, you couldn't even pinpoint where the rest of the screaming pain was coming from. Every little movement you tried to make send white hot pain through your skull.

"G- h…ost" you gasped for air, the sound of his callsign was supposed to be a yell, but it fell only on a whisper. You tried to look around, to locate the person you needed to see, but everything in your line of sight was rubble and debris, a distant fire and smoke. Each agonizing second that passed taunting you with the fact he wasn't responding.

You slowly raised yourself upwards, moving every limb that wasn't broken and supporting yourself against the ruined wall you had been pushed against. The air in your lungs stung, every breath you took reminding you of your state. You reach for your radio, trying to locate the box that should be strapped to your torso, but it was gone.

A groan bubbled up in your throat, it was hard to think when your own head felt like it was cracked wide open. You were rolling completely on barebones instincts, your only thought being to find him, to make sure he's okay.

You can still hear the occasional gunshots from somewhere else, everything is dampened, as if cotton has been stuffed in your ears. The probability of hearing damage becomes a much scarier reality the more you get back in tune with your senses.

You push it into the back of your mind, it's not important right now, it's a probability you can process later. The wall behind you is half crumbled down, too much pressure makes it threaten to spill right over you. You push against it, slowly raising yourself up to standing once again, your knees barely wanted to obey your internal commands. Everything in your body was delayed, your body wasn't listening to you.

Even as you commanded your arms to shield your fall, they weren't fast enough when your knees buckled under you and you faceplanted right into the dirt once again. "F- uck" you groaned, you didn't want to let the fear take hold, but you could feel its cold hands clawing at your ankles. Your eyes honed in on the rubble of debris in the corner, the place he'd pushed you away from in the last second.

One arm in front of the other your clawed at the ground, wincing at the feeling of your broken nails. In slow motions you began to move, crawling across the room that now felt so much larger. You still couldn't fathom that he had pushed you out of the way, you should've taken the fall, but he took your place.

It wasn't supposed to go like this whatsoever, he wasn't supposed to take your place, he was never supposed to take your place in danger. Air eludes you, making you gasp and sputter as you reach the mountain of broken ceiling and furniture.

"Simon…" you rasp hoping that he somehow could hear your strained voice from wherever he was. There was no response, only the muffled sound of the blearing wind, the distant fight and the screaming in your own mind. You caught sight of your bloodied hand, latched onto a chunk of the debris as you did your best to pull, you couldn't help the shaking, the innate fear that he might never respond.

Some of the stone and dirt trickle off, the piece pulls aside, and you notice the small critters crushed underneath. Some bugs you can't name, a roach that almost made it out. A worm, half its body mashed to liquid and other half still wiggling in desperate search of escape.

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

Simon looks up from his phone, a little caught off guard by the sudden intrusion of the silence. "Seriously?" he asks unimpressed, not having expected you to throw him that question of all things. He rolled his shoulders back, working out the tensing that had formed from laying at such an awkward angle in the bed.

"C'mon answer the question!" you swatted his arm, inching closer to him as you waited for his answer, "Would you love me if I was a worm?". You rolled onto your stomach and leaned closer to him, propping yourself up on your elbows and placing your chin in the palm of your hand.

"No"

You let out an exaggerated gasp of offence, "Why not?" you moved yourself even closer so you could place your head on his stomach, angling your body sideways in his bed. He sighed and put his phone away, his eyes flickering to you and giving you his undivided attention.

"Cause you'd be a worm, I'd probably crush you by accident" he gently ran a hand through your hair, rubbing his calloused fingers over your scalp. Your eyes fluttered from the sensation, the feeling of goosebumps going down your back.

Still, you manage to let out scoff in mock offence, "Mean." You pout and turn your body to lay on your back again, ignoring the way Simon fakes the sound of being crushed under your weight. You've seen him carry another soldier the size of himself, he would be fine.

He keeps his hand resting on your head, gently nudging you a little further up so you weren't laying it directly on his stomach. "Would you still love me if i was a Ghost?" he asks, countering your own silly question with one of his own. You raised a brow at that, curious that he was now indulging you in your sappy feelings.

"An actual ghost?"

"Yeah"

You turned your head to watch the curling smile on his lips, how you'd love to kiss the teasing grin right off. You blow out air through your nose, your shoulders jolting just a little in amusement. The question didn't sound like it needed a serious answer, it was obviously just a ploy on his own callsign. Yet you were out to annoy him right back, so you gave it some serious thought.

"Yeah, I think I would," you say with a grin on your face, "I mean I know you'd always watch over me." His smirk widens at your answer, looking at you as if he didn't quite believe your sentiment. "Even if I couldn't see you, I'd love the fuck out of your ghost," you roll your body again, letting out a satisfied huff when you settle atop of him, and he starts complaining again.

You always knew it wasn't serious, his complaining amounting to nothing because instead of pushing you right off he pulls you closer. Cuddling you tight as he mumbles his complaints in your ear, while you can still hear the teasing smirk on his lips.

Your mouth feels like it's full of sand, the dry heat stirs your discomfort to a new level. The sting in your eyes is no longer from the impact, and you bite back on your tongue to muffle a cry. A cry for him to hear, the one only he could soothe, the ache only he knew how to quell.

A newfound strength burrowed itself in your bones from your agony, the drive to pull chunk after chunk. Every little piece brought you closer and closer to your goal, to something that was terrifyingly far away. Every piece hurt; every stone made your hands bleed even more. Every new area uncovered that didn't show sign of him festered in your heart, every moment you didn't find him stabbed a knife into your wretched heart.

Your own lungs couldn't contain you, the need to scream his name bubbled up and was just barely suppressed when you saw that familiar glove. The one you had studied in your own hand time and time again, the hand it usually encompassed wasn't there. His skeleton gloves having been pulled off during the tumble. Your own shaking hands grab it and hold it close to your chest, it was full of dirt and blood, the bone markings ripped, and some parts were even peeling off.

You quickly pocketed the gloves, intent on giving them back to him as soon as you both got out of here. They meant a lot to him, even if it was for silly reasons, he always wore them, they were his. The mountain of rocks felt like an impossible task, but he had to be here, you had to get to him quick.

There was no way to know what kind of state he was in, but guessing from your own injuries his would be even worse. The cold dread started to form in the pits of your stomach, you wanted to throw up. This was never supposed to happen to either of you, you were supposed to be invincible, you were supposed to be able to protect each other from harm.

That was the problem, he had protected you from harm, in the one moment where you wished he didn't. You removed another piece of debris and felt your heart spike in your throat. His hand was covered in a layer of grey dust, his blood coating a thin streak right over his palm. You felt your panic take hold, the creeping fear now sinking its cold teeth into your back.

Piece after piece after piece is removed in a haste, and you let out a cry of frustration when some of it tumbles in the wrong direction. You uncover his arm; the fabric of his shirt is torn but you no longer pay attention to the extent of the damage. The rest of the rubble covering him is easily removed, and you settle next to him, frantically searching his body for wounds before checking his lucidity.

His mask is torn in half, his balaclava ruined and giving a view of the bruises underneath. You choke back on a sob, seeing the mangled state he was in sent spikes straight into your heart. "No no no," you move your shaking hands to his face, gently sliding his mask fully off so you could cradle his face.

Tears filled your eyes making it hard to see, what was right in front of you. You tried to gently shake him, while trying to hold back what would become hysterical sobbing. He wasn't moving, you couldn't see if he was breathing, he wasn't responding. "No no no! You can't leave me, i can't do this without you!" you cried out for him, "Simon!"

"I can't do this without you" you sobbed, your pouring tears mixing with the downfall of rain. It was all too climactic, too cheesy and movie like, you hated it more than anything, because the pain in your heart didn't feel like when you watched those movies. This was real, and it held unfathomable power over you, a single person’s answer being able to either make the rain stop or tear your world in half.

He stood in front of you motionless, he looked something akin to a statue in the darkness. You desperately wished he would be more expressive, at least for you, at least in this moment. His clothes were soaked through, his balaclava sticking uncomfortably to his face no doubt. You had no idea how long he had been out here waiting for you.

"I don't want to do this without you Simon," you pleaded with him, "I know you said it wouldn't end well, and that my feelings would pass but i know they won't." You spoke pathetically through your tears, you wanted to scream at him, blame him for getting you into this but you knew it wasn't just his fault. You were just as much to blame, for the developing of your feelings.

It had started off as a simple arrangement, something to get both of your frustrations out after missions. However, it quickly developed into so much more, you had promised each other to keep it on a tight leash, to not let it become more than that. You both knew after that first night that it wouldn't be possible to keep it from running loose.

"I love you."

Your eyes were desperately searching him, looking for anything that could be deciphered as an answer. He drove you crazy, every single part of his existence drove you to that line of madness. A love, an obsession, a devotion so strong it was breaking you to know he didn't want to feel the same.

"I don't want to just forget about you, i want you, all of you," you continued, consciously glancing away as you couldn't take his piercing stare anymore. "I want us to be together, to grow together, to die together," you feel the cracks in your voice get worse, "I know you said we shouldn't fall in love, but i want to love you SimMmh-"

You feel his rough lips crash unto yours, forcing you to step backwards in shock but he would only follow. In all your years knowing him, you never understood how he moved so much muscle so effortlessly, and so quietly, nonetheless. You hadn't even noticed how he had bolted forward in the middle of your grand speech, how he had ripped off his balaclava and exposed his hair to the rain.

You only felt how his lips moved feverishly against your own, how his hands grabbed your face and waist and pulled you closer. His grip was strong, there was no escape even though you didn't even want one. You move in sync with him, feeling his caressing tongue, his digging fingers, and his soft groan. He kissed you like you were the only person in the world.

"You're a bloody fool" he whispered against your lips, resting his forehead against yours as you pulled in air. "To not see how much I love you too, how fuckin' enamored I am with you," his dark brown eyes stare straight into your own, "Don't you understand just how much I would do for you? It scares me to love you, because I know I would do anything you'd ever ask of me, I’d give you my heart, my soul, I’d tear my own flesh if you wished it of me."

You stared back in shock, taking in his words like were they priced possessions you would never get again, "I just want to be with you, I don't want to be alone anymore". You couldn't tell what was rain and what was tears on your wet cheeks anymore, but the way he held you, so carefully wiping tear and rain away, like you might break if he moved the wrong way did things to your heart.

"Then that's what we'll do, no more hiding from each other" he whispered close to you, the overpowering sound of pattering rain deafening the world around you. Creating a bubble of safety that consisted just of two, "You'll never have to be alone again".

The sound of his rasp cough made you jerk your hands away from him. In one quick motion your wiped away the tears that blurred your vision so you could focus on him. He looked so pale, his eyes half lidded as he slowly moved his head.

"Oh god, oh my god Simon, why did you do that!" you can't help your outburst and the tears that come along with it, you shake him not thinking of his injuries, "You can't just do that!" A weak hand gently grazed your arm to make you stop.

"E- Easy" he struggled to get his words out, he was no doubt still adjusting to the disorienting feeling. The hollow look in his eyes terrified you, and you quickly grabbed his hand squeezing it tight in your own.

"Simon, you're…" your teeth sink into your own lip, you hadn't checked the extent of his injuries, you hadn't checked where he was bleeding or if it was all blunt. Your eyes scan him but it's hard to see in the darkness, his black gear and attire blending in with the grey shadows engulfing you both.

You feel him trying to squeeze you back, but the force is so feint, if you didn't know any better you'd think there's no intent behind it. "M…okay…" his voice is so quiet in your ears, even more muffled than the rest of the world around you.

"No no you’re not!" you have no idea whether you’re shouting or screaming or crying, it's probably a mix of all three. Your free hand starts moving around his torn clothes, pushing it aside to get a look at the scratches and cuts on his body. Your eyes fall to his stomach, the place where his shirt is clamping to something wet.

Your heart catches in your throat and you choke out a pathetic noise. You didn't want to raise his shirt, you already knew what you would find, but you didn't want to know what it would mean for you right now. "Hey…" his voice sounded so solemn, as if he already knew, as if he already had it figured out how it would end.

"S'ok…" he mumbled quietly, trying to squeeze against your hand. He sounded almost floaty, the pain going through him must be immense, enough to mess with his head if the fall didn't do it.  "B- Breathe darling…need you to stay strong, okay?" you hadn't even noticed the way you were starting to panic again.

You never understood how he did it, how he managed to stay so calm during such crucial situations. You were good at keeping a level head in most types of life-threatening situations, but this was different, too different. "Why did you do that? Why did you push me away," you bite down on your tongue intentionally, now desperately wishing you had a better control over your emotions.

"M'always gonna push you away from the danger," he says quietly, a smile that was barely visible resting on his lips. "It's what we agreed wasn't it?" his hand gently comes up to graze your cheek, the weak nature of his shaking hand only made you cry harder.

"Not like this, it wasn't supposed to be like this," You cup his hand that's resting against your cheek. His thumb gently vibes away the falling tears, and you feel the way it runs over a bruise. It hurts but it's nothing like the ache in your heart.

"And you?" he asked quietly, the soft glow of the cigarette bud illuminating him in the night, "Would you give your life f'mine?" The conversation had come up during your nightly ramblings, going over everything and nothing, however the mood strikes.

"Without hesitation," you say determinedly, reaching out to grab the cigarette from him so you could take a puff. "I'd trade my life for yours any day" you tell him again after your drag. He looks at you with an amused glint in his eyes.

"No hesitation, huh?" he leans back against the wall behind him, watching your expression as he contemplates it. "I think, if it came down to it, I’d be okay with dying if it was with you" he says after a moment of thought, he takes the cigarette back and flicks off the gathering ash.

"Hmm" your noise of disagreement wasn't lost on him; you move in front of him walking into his space and staring at him with narrowed eyes. "Yeah, but you're not dying" you say and press a finger against his chest, almost accusatorily.

He lets out a scratchy chuckle, clearing his throat before returning your stare in an amused way. "Not planning on it anytime soon sweetheart" he takes your hand in his own before bringing it to his lips, "How could I ever let you be alone like that."

"I know…I know," he hates the sound of your cries, it feels worse than the blearing pain his stomach. "Love…are you injured?" every word he speaks becomes harder and harder to force out. His body isn't working with him, and he despite how much he doesn't want to accept it, he knows it's no use. His only chance now is making you realize you need to get out of here.

"No….yes…..I…fuck.." it's hard to think when it feels like everything you ever cared about is on the line. "I'm okay…I’ll live…" he nods slowly in response, his eyes clenching shut as he bites back on a groan of pain. He knows what he's about to ask of you is gonna cause undesired feelings to stir within you, he doesn't even know if he can convince you, but he has to.

"Listen to me darling," your eyes snap to his droopy ones, he envied your awareness, "You need to survive….you need to go." Your eyebrows furrow, a frown falling onto your lips as you realize what he's asking you to do.

When you just think the situations, severity couldn't dawn on your harder, it does. Your stomach churns with nausea, a million different scenarios going through your head to think it through, but it all boils down to it, there's no way you can get him out of here.

"No no wait just let me think I can…" you rub your hands frantically over your face, trying to force some sort of epiphany to happen in your brain. The one thing that could save you both, anything that would not have you leave him here to die. "Shit, your radio, do you still have it? Mine broke doing my fall but if yours…" you move his shredded gear around to look for a sign of his radio.

You had no idea whether the radio would even work out here, it was a likely scenario that there is some kind of jammer up by now. But if there's even a sliver of hope, a small chance you could call for evac, or backup, or anyone, you'd take it. There was no way you were carrying him out here on your own.

All you had to do was find his radio, and pray it wasn't crushed under the debris.

"Darling…darling no….stop" he tries to catch your frantic hands, but his movements are too slow to do it before you move them to a new place. It's as if he can feel his own heart start to slow, every single second that passes he knows it's just a few more until he'll close his eyes. "Stop," his authoritative tone is so different on your ears, but it still makes you listen like a spellbound command.

The radio is nowhere to be found, in bits and pieces alongside most of his other gear. Crushing the hope, you had along with it, taking your final chance at saving him right out of your grip. It makes you freeze faster than any of his commands ever has done before.

He presses you to his chest, successfully maneuvering you into an awkward position that's halfway into his lap. The fall he took when the debris crushed him from above, left him in a weird almost sitting position.

You latch onto him, angling your hands to put pressure on the wound hiding beneath his shirt. You desperately wish it would help, as if by some comedic divine intervention would heal his wound and you could go on home. That if you just believed hard it enough then maybe this wouldn't be happening to you or to him.

"S'ok, s'gonna be okay love."

The cough that escapes his lips betrays his words of assurance; you look up from your place against his chest. Red blood smears down his chin, indicating of how little time you could have left. You don't want him to go, there's still so much you want to do with him, this isn't how it was supposed to end.

"M'gonna marry you someday," he mumbled sleepily into the crook of your neck. He was heavy on top of you, all of his weight relaxed unto your body and giving you the grounding, you needed. A long time ago he would be worried he would crush you, now he relishes in the feeling of relief he can give you, and the soft scalp scratches he gets for it.

"What?" you ask dumbfounded, it had been total silence between the two of you. You had been sure he had been asleep in all honesty, and then his voice rumbles out. Not just catching you off guard by him being half-awake, but the nature of the statement aswell.

"M'gonna get you a wedding ring, n' m'gonna marry you," he continues his mumbled rambling. You wonder if he even knows he's telling you this, if he's in that state between awake and sleep, his walls of defenses completely gone as you hold him.

If it was possible to have hearts for pupils, that's probably what'd you look like in this moment. So drunk off of his love, and he wasn't even awake to witness it. "You want to marry me?" you had already gotten your answer, but you wanted to hear it again, and again and again. Right up until that fated moment at the altar when you would finally hear the words.

"I do"

"M'sorry I couldn't marry you," his shaking hand cradles your face as you cry into his chest, using all the strength he has left to comfort you and assure you. Despite the way he's starting to dip in and out of consciousness.

The engagement ring, hanging in the chain you wear under all your gear, normally safely nestled against your chest, now burned like a thousand suns against your flesh. The promise that was supposed to be fulfilled a year from now, the promise of something better, a future in each other’s arms no matter what the world would throw at you.

"I can still see it, the little cabin we would retire to, the animals you'd insist on keeping, our nights spent on a porch watching a sunset"

"Please…Si…"

His smile is crooked, the blood coating his dried and dusted lips hurts to look at. It's not supposed to be there, it's not supposed to be his. Everything you had promised him would fade into dust, every little whisper of something better would mean nothing. Your relationship falling into the dark corners of your memory.

"It's gonna be okay….we'll…see each other again….I'll always watch over you…remember…" he tries to cheer you up, to lessen the impact he knows his inevitable demise will have on you. He can see it in your face, the betrayal and hurt, the uncertainty and pure devastation. "C'mon, lemme see that beautiful smile," he urges you.

When you don't comply he tries to do a dramatic pout, mimicking your own behavior in an argument with him. You can't decide if you appreciate his less serious side in this moment, you don't know how to feel yourself.

"C'mon," he says again, "Why don't blind folk skydive? Cause it'd scare the shit out of their dogs." The joke is old, used, but it's so him you can't help the small smile that tugs on your lips. "There it is, that gorgeous smile," he mirrors it, smiling brighter through the pain in hopes of you doing the same.

"Simon," there's a longing in your voice, the look in your eye so full of sadness it doesn't even escape your smile. He knows what you’re thinking, all the inevitabilities that'll happen after this moment. How desperately he wishes he could be there for you, that he could do something, anything to alleviate the situation.

The calm acceptance is already rolling through his brain, his quiet thoughts preparing him for the darkness his mind is slowly pulling him towards. You come impossibly closer to him, soaking up to him and taking every moment as the last. Your forehead gently rests against his, and he takes initiative himself to taste your lips one final time.

It's a slow agonizing kiss, every thought, every emotion, every promise is poured into it. His lips connected with yours, allowing you peek at his mind, his darkest fears becoming a frightening reality that you're going to be left with.

"I love you"

He holds you close for a long time, and you stay even longer. Even when his arms slowly go lax around you, even as his eyes close, even as his movements seizes. You don't find it in yourself to let him go, even as his body goes cold and his last breath is exhaled. You stay in his cold embrace, his name falling from your lips in silent prayer. A prayer directed to anyone that could hear you, that they might give back your lost love.

[thesoulesscollection]

Beat The Hand That Sins (Thsc Choc Fic)

Heya! Here's a little writer's blurb. I wanted to write a piece depicting the turbulent dynamic between Candy with her grandson, Choc. 

By the way, please read the tags, Candy isn't a good person, she's very flawed, traumatized even, and downright abusive, most if not all having it directed at Choc.

Choc ‘fun fact’ is he's ambidextrous, is able to write with both hands fluidly yet naturally born a leftie and has a better preference for it. 

Choc's the type of person who will talk about his trauma in a almost positively cheerful way, brushing it off as a joke he could laugh at now while anyone around him is highly uncomfortable and concerned by

^ Although at first, his advice would come out as helpful, if some were to really think deeper into what he says, it's far from so. It's one that's twisted up by trauma under the fatherly guise of ‘knowing what's best’ for people. 

Tw/Tags: Heavy Angst, Whump, Graphic Child Abuse/Neglect, Corporal Punnishments, Physical Abuse, Verbal Insults, Dehumanizing Language, Abusive Familial Relationships, & Implied Religious Themes 

1967: Choc, 11yo & Candy, 66yo

On the ground, curled up in a tight little ball, Choc's wheezing, his good eye not swollen shut is fixated to the wall ahead. Breathing ragged he stayed still, emotionless, crying won't protect him. Soon thereafter he goes imaging happy thoughts, more a sweetened escape from cruel reality until it breaks apart by the fantastical seams once he hears her voice. 

“Get up you inept brat” 

It's what kept him relatively sane for the most part. Until his grandmother hovers above his twisted little form with clear disdain. The ugly sneer on her wrinkled face, her strong french accent clipped in impatience at his sorry state, and gloved fists tells him it was far from over. 

“G-grammy… Please” 

A harsh scoff and her cold hand pinch around the back of his neck, immediately it shuts him up. Choc should've known better than to talk back, past experiences such as this reminds him as only pain will come to him if he chose to be stubborn. When he's made to stand on unsteady feet, nearly buckling under him, he does feel himself sway a little. Though that is when the backhanded slap across his face on the good side, not yet badly bruised such as with the other, elicits a startled gasp. 

“How many times do I have to remind you to not be so careless? To not speak unless you are spoken to?” 

Wincing at the sting freshly blossoming in his round cheeks, Choc swallowed back the pain, silently nodding along. Best not to show what hurts, always better to tough out, pray that it won't be too bad. Last time around the age of six, stupidly having been brought up through heavy wails, he was in pain and couldn't feel his legs. His grandmother decided to give him a plentiful amount of lashes on his back, on each corresponding limb, and left him to sleep in the mess that's meshed with his tears, snot, and other ungodly bodily fluids. 

After a while the punishments, getting severe with each passing year, eventually do tend to blur together. Is it bad he stopped caring or rather no longer felt a thing?

Choc pushed it back to the recess of his mind. 

“I shouldn't be expecting anything highly from you, should I?” 

Once again the boy responds mutely, keeping his gaze locked on the ground, fingers digs in the old unwashed shirt worn daily, smelling of rotting stink. She barely allows him to clean in the idea he was at fault for his messy disarray so he shouldn't be rewarded with cleanliness or anything remotely caring. Unless he pleads his case to her, pathetically miserable it may be to earn her forgiveness which would never be granted, he still does it and will do chores galore, even if it would last from dawn to dusk to do all. But desperation called upon so, he'll work down to the bone, exhausted terribly he can sleep anywhere. 

“You're a freakish imp in disguise of the devil's making. How can I be so blind not to see this. Your underhanded antics and cynical attitude” She rambled in vile anger. “What you wrote to deface me, our family and over what we believe” 

This whole (one-sided) argument and physical discourse started because the elderly woman had taken note of his left hand at work, writing in a little journal in his room. A raggedy book yellowing in aged use was his only safe place to scribble away his inner worries. She read it, every page detailing his feelings, his thoughts on her, the family's fight over social standing, and the religion she prayed on her knees so rigorously over. Now it's been torn to shreds and he was beat for it. 

“What you wrote was deplorable. Sinful. You don't dare begin to understand and know what I've done for you and your sister to be where we are now” While the woman firmly persists, her wide frame easily shadows his who's back is pressed flat against the wall. “You shall be thankful you are here in the first place, to be at mercy you aren't completely feeble such as with your mother. If it wasn't for our holiness, you wouldn't be a thing” 

Choc curled away, his shaky hands clenched to fists, fighting the weak urge to cry, took this as a cue to speak, “I'm sorry” 

“And what did I tell you, boy, about using your left hand?”

His right protectively covered the left hand, his cheeks were lit on the fire of shame. “I-I don't like writing with my right hand… It's. It's was un-u-uncomfortable” 

“Give me your left hand” She orders, given no room for argument yet Choc resists, laying his left hand deep into his chest. “Now” 

“I-I forget! Please!”  

No matter what he says or goes to do, she is quicker to grab him by the ear, neck, arm, or in this case, his matted blond hair. Then she went for his left arm and got roughly yanked behind him, Choc for sure heard the bone in his shoulder pop. A pained hiss presses out his clenched teeth when she decides to throw his thin body on the nearest table. He faintly hears past the ringing in his ears, the rattling of a chest drawer open, she's in a desperate search for something. The tingling ache in his limp arm already tells him she dislocated it, he panics over the realization. Breath caught in his throat Choc squeezes his eyes shut.

Though in hesitancy, he cracks one eye open a smidge to see what his grandmother literally brought to the table, being a long slender stick made from smooth metal. Anxiously switching his blurry sight to his left hand as it lays on the table, palm flat on the bumpy oak surface. 

“You made me do this. Take this as a learning experience as it hurts me more than it will for you” 

Eventually Choc is pulled away from the table, his free hand, his right, the proper respectable one, grips the corner for dear life. In a sudden he was close to doubling over, bruised knees knocking together, almost giving out once the metal hits skin. Not his left hand but instead it is directed at back, likely used as a sly tactic to surprise him to alertness. She knows the boy slips into another state of mind. 

“I want you to at least be conscious with me to learn your lesson. So stand up proper, I ask of you to keep your eyes on the wall and repeat to me the number of lashes I give you” 

With a shake of the head, tremors is what it's called, Choc simply does what's asked of him, straightens his slumped posture and he blinks away the tears. Arm outstretched, hand ready to take the lashes, he steadies himself to take the punishments given. Rather he should be thankful she's merciful to primarily give his left hand and back the treatment. Although having been beaten to an inch of his life, she can no doubt be crueler about it. 

“O-One!” 

Voice cracks to an inhuman pitch which Choc grew embarrassed by, biting down at his lips hard enough to bleed. Grandma Candy is at his side, hearing his groggy whines with keen precision, no considerations, and it earns him another hit. This time, probably miscalculated, though it wouldn't really take him by surprise if it wasn't, she aims for his upper arm, a sliver of a long cut slashed across his forearm. 

“Two!” He calls out. Then another two right after. “Three! Four!” 

Soon he loses count. Mind went cloudy with time and intensity. However she won't lighten up. All Choc knows is how his voice follows in repeating the number of lashes the metal ruler gives him. Musky sweat profusely seeped out cut pores, the sour scent lingers heavy in the air. 

In due time, she tires herself out, her old body can't keep up as it once was in her younger years. 

Choc heaves a broken sigh, unable to pull his locked gaze from the wall. 

Whatever his poor ailing mother had to deal with when she was alive, in her own childhood must've been ten times worse so he doesn't think harder on it. He wanted to do his best to preserve a positive memory of his mother and not sully himself into the idea his treatment was worse than hers. 

“Do you apologize and reap for what you sow with bad intentions?” 

“Yes, I have” Choc stumbled a little. Left hand was swollen and bruised like a bad fruit. Any movement whether small or big, even with an involuntary twitch caused him to wince. Likely the bruises will last for a couple weeks and he can take it in if it's broken. Either way he isn't looking forward to anything in the future. The side eyed glares and his need to give them half baked excuses. 

“Good. You do realize I do this for you to learn that you can't keep biting the hand that feeds and cares for you? One day and it always will return to slap you back down to the fiery pits of hell” 

As she dutifully promised he wouldn't be able to write as well as any remaining sinful deeds with said hand. It took a longer period for him to get remotely accustomed to using his right hand; it still was like a chainsaw to butter but he got there to garner less scrutiny. 

[duckiemimi]

okay i have a question. i am sooo confused by this one thing geto said during the KFC breakup scene. "if I could become you....then even this foolish ideal would be perfectly plausible" is this a testament to how strong gojo is? is this geto's jealousy?

it's a testament to geto's steadfastness towards his impossible ideals! an "i've made my bed, and i alone will lay in it," punctuation. yes, he does acknowledge gojo's strength, and yes, he was comparing himself to gojo at the moment! but more than that, it was a thinly veiled expression of angry lamentation towards his circumstances. he can't hide under all his talk of justice.

i like to think that deep down, he knows the problem is the system and not the subject of protection (non-sorcerers). but take into account his age at the time, his background, his moral high ground, and strong sense of duty pre-defection—what was he if not lost? he had so much anger and resentment he didn't know to channel into something productive. and i mean, he already decimated a village. what should've he done at that moment? face the music?

a guy like him cannot live with cognitive dissonance—either he accept all responsibility and leave the children he saved to cycle in the system that broke him, or he retroactively justify his impulsive spree to make sense of it all, to have some kind of grasp on himself. he needed to convince himself he was in control. you're in luck, i actually write a lot about him! you can click here if you want to and have time to read, or feel free to look through the geto or jjk meta tag on this blog!

[fulfillingbineeds]

New Year's Kiss (4420 words) by fulfillingbineeds Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Misfits (TV 2009) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Simon Bellamy/Nathan Young Characters: Simon Bellamy, Nathan Young Additional Tags: Dialogue Heavy, Kissing, Bonding, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, Fluff, Nathan Young Being Nathan Young, Angst

Summary: Nathan and Simon spend New Year's Eve together on the community center roof and have some personal conversations.

Notes: This piece was inspired by a tweet from E4's official Nathan's twitter.

Simon felt his whole body shiver as the cold wind blew across him. He put his hood on, hoping it would cancel out some of the wind. 

"God, I'm freezing my balls off here! This is awful! Why'd you suggest we go to the roof, Barry?" Nathan breathed out, his words coming out with a chattering of teeth.  

Simon glared at Nathan. 

"It wasn't my idea. It was yours." He huffed, narrowing his eyes at the shivering Irishman.

"Pfft. Tomato, Potatoe." Nathan quickly brushed Simon off. "Anyways, how long til midnight? I'd check myself, but I think my fingers would freeze off." Nathan slightly laughed during his last sentence. His hands were hidden under his coat, hugging himself and rubbing his arms up and down to create friction.

Simon went to his pocket to retrieve his phone. He was glad he thought ahead of time to bring gloves with him. 

He glanced down at his phone screen, which read '11:10 pm December 31st, 2009.'  

"Only forty more minutes til midnight," Simon said while putting his phone back away.

"Christ." Nathan huffed. He removed his left hand from under his coat and grabbed the beer sitting by his feet. His hand was shaking from the cold, which caused the can to shake aggressively as he brought it closer to his mouth.

"I thought you said your fingers would freeze off if you did anything," Simon smirked at him.

"Yeah, I did, but it would be worth it for a sip of this magnificence stolen beer," Nathan smirked back, lifting up the can in a cheering motion before bringing it to his lips. He shivered as the cold metal and liquid made contact with his mouth. "Jesus! It's freezing." Nathan whined, quickly chugging a few more gulps before placing the can back on the ground.  

Simon also went to take a sip of his own beer. He could feel the coldness of the can through his glove and grimaced about what he was about to experience. He liked cold beer. Ice cold was the best, but not so much when it was below five on the community center roof with Nathan. 

"Ugh, that's awful." Simon frowned as he placed his beer back onto the ground. He could hear Nathan’s stifled laughter as he did so. 

"We should've gone to a bar or something. This is just depressing." Nathan used his freed hand to motion at both Simon and himself and everything around before it found its way back under his coat. 

"A bar would probably be too full by now anyways," Simon responded.

"Yeah, Yeah." Nathan scoffed. "Well, at least I'm doing some good for the community tonight, even if it means I might freeze to death ‘cause of it." 

"What?" Simon asked, looking confused. He started to wonder if the cold was affecting Nathan's brain. 

"I'm helping out a lonely virgin with having his first New Year's with someone other than his hand. If it wasn't for me, you'd be stuck in your room playing perverted porn games all night long." Nathan impishly grinned while miming wanking himself.

"I don't play porn games. I'm not a pervert." Simon frowned. 

"But if it wasn't for me, you'd still be alone in your room tonight, right?" Nathan narrowed his eyes.

Simon opened his mouth to respond but swiftly shut it because Nathan was right. He would have spent another New Year’s alone if he hadn't been invited out tonight. 

Nathan huffed a laugh before moving closer to Simon and swung his arm across his shoulder. He began to rub Simon's arm in a comforting motion. 

"I'm glad I can brighten up your sad little life once again," Nathan smirked and booped Simon on the nose, causing him to shiver and squirm away.

"My life isn't sad, and you're not the first person I've spent New Year's with." Simon glared, brows furrowed. 

"You know family doesn't count." Nathan rebutted. 

"I know, and that's not what I meant." 

"So are you saying you had a friend? Aww." Nathan cooed. "So why aren't you hanging out with them instead?" 

"We had a falling out." 

"Try to burn their house down?" Nathan chuckled, glancing over at Simon, whose eyes had widened, and he started to pat his hair down like he typically did whenever he was nervous. 

"Oh my god, you tried to burn their house down. Christ, you little pyromaniac!" Nathan playfully swatted Simon's arm. 

"I'm not a pyromaniac… It was just a stupid drunken mistake." Simon looked down at his feet, his lips slightly pouting. 

Continue Reading on AO3

[sneetsnootyoit]

Stuck

Summary: What happens when Ezra gets stranded on the Green Moon a second time?

Warnings/tags: hurt/comfort (I promise there's actual comfort), canon-typical violence, deaf reader, gn!reader, post-canon, idk what else

Word Count: 3.1k

Ao3 Link!

Fuck, was he stupid. When Cee said she wouldn't go back to the Green with him, he decided he'd go on his own. Equipped with a thrower, a brand new filter, and a pod of his own, he managed to convince a ship captain to drop his pod over the Green in exchange for a share of the profits he made. Once they agreed on a price, he was off.

It started out fine. He found a good spot to start mining, although he still struggled mining with only one hand, he eventually figured it out. The part where he was stupid was when he thought he could get enough leverage pay for his ride, by himself. He should've tried to get a partner, or convinced Cee to join him, but he was so desperate for credits that he jumped in head first.

When the ship came back to pick him up, the captain was greatly disappointed in Ezra’s findings. Since Ezra was outnumbered at least four-to-one, he wasn't able to stop them from taking what he'd mined and abandoning him on the Green. His pod was just that, a pod, so he wouldn’t be able to get back to the Pug without help.

It wasn’t his first time being stranded, so there was no initial panic. He figured he'd just wait for the right opportunity and smooth talk his way onto someone else's ship, and maybe still make it back with some credits. But Lady Fortune was not on his side at that time. He continued to mine and utilize the resources on his pod, but after many cycles of not running into anyone else, and the Sater refusing to provide aid, those resources began to dwindle.

He was stuck on the Green Moon for many cycles, and ended up reaching a point of delirium from being hungry, tired, and alone. He found his way back to the area he and Cee had departed from the last time he was in the Green, although by that time, his filter had started to break (not as ‘brand new’ as he thought), and he hadn't eaten or slept in a few cycles. When he stumbled out of the forest, there was a person pulling an aurelac node from the ground with a huff. The sound of Ezra emerging from the dense forest immediately caught their attention, and they held up their thrower, pointing it at him.

"Hey, fuck off, man. I got here first," they called out, eyeing Ezra suspiciously.

"I can assure you, I mean no harm. Many cycles have passed since I last saw another person here," he told them, putting his hand up. "It would be greatly appreciated if you were to assist me in the acquisition of clean air. My filter has begun to function poorly and I no longer have sustenance. I was under the impression that I may expire here, but it seems I may have stumbled upon an angel."

They snorted and lowered their weapon slightly when they realized he probably wouldn't be able to hurt them, even if he tried. "So, what? You want food and a filter?"

"...transportation back to Puggart Bench would also be greatly appreciated," he added, looking almost sheepish.

They eyed him suspiciously and motioned for him to approach, watching him closely as he moved. When he was close enough, they pulled him into the hole with them and connected their filter to his suit, sharing your filtration system with him. He breathed easier once the suits were connected and he seemed relieved. The stranger paused and looked him up and down. It was evident that he had indeed been on the Green for a while. He looked sweaty and his face was dirty, he had bags under his eyes and seemed unable to keep his balance.

“Are you alright?” They asked hesitantly, stepping forward to catch him when he almost fell over.

“I wish I could tell you that I am, in fact, alright, but that would not be true. I have not been able to consume any form of sustenance for at least a cycle and a half due to my supplies having run out. The equipment I currently carry is only that.”

The stranger thought about how Ezra seemed to talk a lot and had to stop themselves from rolling their eyes at him. “Okay, well…I can’t just be giving stuff out, okay? So uh…let’s make a deal.”

Ezra nodded, trying to rest against the side of the hole that he was standing in.

"Okay, here’s the deal. I help you, you help me. You pull nodes from the ground, I'll extract the gems. In return, I'll feed you and help you get home. Deal?"

“Deal. Now, if I could trouble you for-” Before he could finish, they turned him around and began to hook up a pouch to the back of his suit. He gave an appreciative hum and turned back around once it was connected, using the straw on the inside of the suit to consume the nutrient pouch. “You can call me Ezra, by the way.”

The stranger nodded and gave their own name in response.

Shortly after that, they got to work. They seemed to appreciate the extra hand, and it made things go by much quicker. Unfortunately, they didn't seem to fully realize how bad of a shape Ezra was in until he nearly collapsed into a node, mumbling nonsense. They were alarmed and frightened, worried they'd somehow killed him, so they quickly gathered their things and dragged him to their ship. On the ship, they immediately removed their suit and Ezra's helmet so they could feel for his pulse. It seemed fine, but he looked and spoke like he was drunk.

"Hey, are you okay?" They asked him, patting his cheek in an attempt to rouse him into a more conscious state. Instead of responding, he seemed to pass out and they thought he'd died, until they saw his breathing even out. They seemed peeved that he’d fallen asleep, but they also had no idea what he’d been through.

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

You had been seriously panicking when you thought Ezra died, but when you realized he was sleeping, you wanted to slap him awake and yell at him. Then it occurred to you that it might've been a while since he last slept and you sighed, shaking your head. What did you get yourself into? — You weren't tired, otherwise you would've fallen asleep, too. Instead, you turned off your hearing aids and read your prospecting manual. You were starting to get overwhelmed by all the idle sounds that surrounded you. Since you were in an unfamiliar area, there were many noises you weren’t familiar with and most of them startled you, because you had no idea where or what they were coming from. You didn’t wear your hearing aids often, only when you needed to. Hearing wasn’t your favorite thing, and there were a lot of people who would rather talk to someone else than try and communicate when you weren’t wearing them. Besides, you could still see Ezra, so you didn't need to be able to hear him.

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

When he woke up, he was disoriented; laying in an unfamiliar place with someone who was technically still a stranger. They seemed to be occupied with their prospecting manual, and he thought about how cute they looked. "I appreciate your help. I hope I didn’t cause you too much trouble.”

There was no response. It seemed almost like they didn't even hear him, so he slowly stood up to approach them. The movement was what caught their attention – they raised their thrower and pointed it at him, motioning for him to sit back down. He did so carefully, and kept eye contact as a quiet chuckle escaped him. "Easy there…I wanted to thank you for your assistance, and I'm hoping you'll continue to provide until the conditions of our deal are met."

They stared at him with a blank look that made him feel extremely uneasy. He couldn't tell what they were thinking about, and they weren't saying anything. It made him squirm while he held up his hand, trying to indicate that he meant no harm. They continued to stare for a moment before they set down their manual and reached for their ear, then switched their thrower to their other hand to get to their other ear.

"What are you doing?" They asked, looking him up and down.

"I…did you not hear me?" They shook their head, offering zero explanation. "Well, I thanked you for your generosity and mentioned that I am hoping you will continue to extend it until the conditions of our deal are met."

They furrowed their brows and leaned their head back, slowly lowering their weapon as they placed it on the floor. “It would be kind of shitty if I didn’t. Besides, I can get more done with an extra…person. So uh…what happened to you? I mean, you show up and tell me all this shit, and then you pass out…did you come unprepared, or…?"

He frowned and looked at the floor, leaning against the wall and pulling the neck of his environment suit away from him. "I suppose you could say that. I made the fatal mistake of promising something I could not uphold. In return, the individuals with which I had made a deal turned on me. They took my findings and abandoned me here, knowing that my pod was not strong enough to get me anywhere on its own."

They hummed and opened their mouth to respond, but Ezra wasn't paying attention and continued to speak, getting more and more upset by the second. "My plan then was to regain what I had lost whilst biding my time, waiting to stumble upon another crew. Unfortunately, you are the first person I have encountered in many cycles. The Sater have made it abundantly clear that they have no plans to provide assistance. Therefore, I have been alone, and unable to refresh my dwindling resources. When I laid eyes upon you, I believed I was going mad, if I may be perfectly candid," his voice wavered, and the faux smile on his face didn't do anything to convince them that he was okay. “When you spoke, I thought surely it would be my end, but at least I would not die from asphyxiation. You truly have been my saving grace, birdie.”

They pitied him, understanding how scared he must've been. There were even tears pricking his eyes, threatening to fall if he didn't keep them pushed back. A heavy sigh left their lips and they walked over to Ezra to plop down next to him. Without words, they wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "You're okay now, though."

He remained oddly still for a moment. It had been many cycles since another person had touched him, let alone embraced him. He was unable to stop himself from melting into the touch with a shuddering sob. They wrapped their other arm around him and sighed, gently caressing his hair. "It's gonna be okay, alright? Listen, just a couple more days and I’ll get you out of here.”

They weren't sure how their comfort would be received, but felt a wave of relief when he wrapped his arm around them and tried to steady his breathing. "You'll be okay…"

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

After getting back to the Pug, Ezra asked if you would stay. He wasn’t sure Cee would want him around anymore, but he also craved the presence of another adult. Someone who might be willing to give him what he so desperately needed. Companionship. His offer was tempting, but on top of that, he offered to aid you in prospecting, when needed. You weren't interested at first, but when you saw the way he and Cee had to live, you pitied them and agreed to stay. While you stayed with them, you slowly fell for Ezra, and you ended up being like a little family.

With the credits you'd earned from the gems you and Ezra brought back from the Green, you managed to purchase a nicer place on Puggart Bench for the three of you to inhabit. The end goal then became settling down somewhere, permanently. It was a few seasons before it became evident that in order to fulfill that goal, you would need to make another trip. Either to the Green, or somewhere else that contained precious resources. Cee chose to stay behind. She wasn't interested in the adventures, much. So Ezra left with you to go prospecting on a planet that contained a very valuable resource that was very difficult to find. It was something you'd done before, and you promised to teach Ezra how it was done.

He said he was a fast learner, but he revealed to you that he had not yet become accustomed to being left-handed. You had to be extremely patient with him because of how much he talked. It was mostly endearing, listening to the way he tries to make his speech sound so eloquent. He tried to make sure he was facing you when he spoke, even though you couldn’t read lips. He also tried to learn sign language for you, but quickly realized that you found it difficult to understand, since he only had one hand to sign with. Sometimes, even though Ezra didn’t mean for it to, all the chatter would become too much and you'd turn off your hearing aids to get some silence.

That was how you ended up laying on the ground in a pool of your own blood.

You'd turned off your hearing aids before exiting the ship because you and Ezra had been arguing over something trivial, and he was determined to win. He knew he was wrong, but he was so desperate to win, or at least have you give up, that he just continued to ramble on. The two of you had forgotten that there were other prospectors that were competitive over their space, and the noise of Ezra’s chatter attracted other people to your location.

You couldn't hear anything that was going on around you, so while you were digging for the signs of a decent node to mine from, Ezra was trying to talk the other prospectors down, telling them to go find their own place to mine. Unfortunately, Ezra’s words only antagonized them into shooting you and moving you aside to take over where you'd left off. They wanted you and Ezra out of the way, so a mercenary that had been hired to protect the group held Ezra back while they tried to take over your spot. They were greatly disappointed when they saw it was a bust and they decided to leave Ezra alone with your body, but not before taking what they thought was the only starter to your ship.

Once they had left, Ezra rushed over to your body and did his best to apply pressure to your wound, trying to get you to wake up and help him figure out what to do. He was angry and terrified, and he tried desperately to get you to wake up. When they shot you, you'd hit your head and it knocked you unconscious. You woke up to the pressure of Ezra’s hand on your wound and the feeling of his heaving sobs against your body.

You tapped his helmet and groaned, catching his attention immediately. He shot upright and his tear-stained face shone with hope. "You- I thought you were dead!"

You stared at him, trying to figure out what he was saying. You really should've practiced your lip-reading when you were younger. Instead of trying to do something you knew would be difficult, you grabbed his wrist with one hand and pointed towards your ship with the other.

“No, they- they took the starter,” he began, and you smacked the side of his helmet with a glare, aggressively pointing to the ship.

You could see the panic in his face and you could tell it would be difficult getting him to move on his own. You carefully sat up and grabbed his hand, huffing as you walked him back to the ship. You reached into your pocket for the starter, and you realized that was probably what he was trying to tell you. You groaned and inhaled deeply, taking in as much air as you could before holding your breath. You took off your helmet long enough to pull off a chain that was around your neck, then you hastily put it back on. You forgot for a moment that Ezra more than likely did not know any kind of sign language as you signed to him “I’m not stupid.”

He looked at you, confused and alarmed, until he realized it was a spare starter. You used it to unlock the hatch of your ship and push him inside, following closely behind. Once the hatch was secured behind you, you turned around and began to remove your suit, only partly paying attention to Ezra’s exaggerated movements while you opened up your field kit. Since it seemed like he wasn’t going to stop talking. You sat down while you removed your shirt and began the process of patching up your wound.

You were extremely lucky it was through-and-through.

While you were continuing to patch yourself, Ezra continued to panic, and you found it extremely distracting. You would’ve turned your hearing aids back on, but you knew that as soon as you did, you would be bombarded by the noise. Despite that, you desperately wanted to hear his voice, just not in such excess. You paused for only a moment to look at him, putting a finger to your lips as a way of telling him to be quiet. He looked at you and nodded, closing his mouth. You sighed and used your cleaner hand to reach back and turn on your hearing aids, sighing. You saw Ezra open his mouth and you shook your head.

"Just come help," you said quietly, extending your hand out to him. He took your hand and knelt down in front of you, helping you to patch up the back while you did the front. Once it was properly sealed, you were able to lean against the wall and at least relax a little bit. You heard Ezra say your name quietly and you looked at him, tilting your head with a questioning look.

“I believe…it would be more beneficial for us to return to Puggart Bench. Being in ownership of a house is not a requirement for-”

You reached out and placed your hand over his mouth, shaking your head. “Too many words, Ez.”

He chuckled and nuzzled his face against your hand, moving closer to you. He held your hand in his as he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Let’s go home.”

You frowned and squeezed his hand, furrowing your brows. “If we leave, we won’t be able to-”

“I would greatly prefer having you. Alive.”

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