#maybe the character was always like that or maybe their environment made them that way | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bunji-enthusiast · 1 month ago

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𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝.

☀︎︎ || With a long awaited reunion, Jayce finally gathers the courage to do something he should’ve done a long time ago.

C/W || nothing nsfw honestly, just lots of fluff, Reader’s gender isn’t implied here, appearance isn’t descriptive, Jayce is just awkward with feelings.

Word Count || 3,433

Note || I feel I should clarify that my whole driving force behind this was inspired by all the jayvik scenes (however you view them lmao), and the song ‘young and beautiful’. Some other things inspired this but mainly these things.

This is also a first I’m posting a fic about a character from Arcane, or arcane at all honestly so some honest criticism for my writing would be appreciated.

That scream repeated over and over in his mind, again and of course – again. Jayce was becoming tired, worn down. His heart began dulling out the environment around him, causing him to look forward, no baggage weighing in on the astral shoulders of his that bore a weight so greatly, for the reality of the supposed great arcane. He was trapped in it for so long.

Red, all he saw was red painting the calluses of his hands. His hands grabbing desperately onto yours, feeling the warmth, the sensation of that beloved warmth leaving your body.

(All he could do was choke out a cry. Silent in the loudness of the world crashing down around the being of you both.)

Another fabric of time, which would have also been his reality. In which you were enemies, Jayce, he wasn’t sure what side to be on. All he knew was to destroy what was necessary, you otherwise wanted to destroy him. Jayce tried to converse with you, yet his growls fell on deaf ears. He was trying to end things, he really was. His want clashed with yours, the need to end things. Jayce just wanted you to not be in pain anymore, and that look in your eyes, the tense stance, pained breathing punishing sharply in the cavity of your chest – that confirmed it for him.

But what was he becoming this time? (Man, or beast?)

He couldn’t tell.

A remaining constant rang true for him each and every time he was chained down in each memory, stone marble cracking in the face of your memory, he was almost beginning to forget what your face looked like. But that scream, it never left him. Your scream was the constant variable of which he experienced each and every time, and you almost always looked at him in fear.

Jayce hated that, he really hated that so much. Looked upon in unease, the sweat on your palms accumulating, and the trepidation rapidly beating in the confines of your ribcage; that heart of yours about ready to jump out, easily because of him.

On that cobblestone floor, cracked by death and echoes of explosion.

He couldn’t tell if you loved him–maybe as a friend–yet either way it was, once. He probably missed it, only looking past you right at others, Viktor, Mel, or even the face of the Hextech Gemstone. The way you were always so kind to greet him even if he didn’t remain a figure of importance in certain situations, you had always made an effort to include not only him, everyone else as well. You brought people together in a way he seldom noticed. But now that he was trapped in the belly of the beast, he thought about it more often.

Jayce truly realized that you had. (But did he ever deserve it? He was beastly toward you often.)

One step after the other, and he realized harshly–being brought back to the now. Something, or someone was far ahead of him. In this void of darkness, and even the occasion of the beautifully loud rainbow swarms, he had never come across someone real. So he began to rush forward, keeping a vice grip on his hammer.

He choked out a shout, feeling his esophagus sore and weak. His body creaked, bones clicking against each other softly, and every which way he twisted himself — he could hear it. Jayce could clearly feel the way his joints had sanded, slowly creaking under the weight of herculean effort to press forward.

The dull ache pressed in his chest, but he couldn't help the youth that springed him forward for a momentary transition in time.

A voice echoes, so strikingly similar to someone he holds dear. And he wonders if that was really the real deal, but he was easily proven wrong once the being speaks; “You must not fail, Jayce.”

Not Fail.

Must, not fail. The accursed organism had repeatedly told him that same mantra over and over again. He was pushed through the time lapse, and forced to relive the gruesome experience of being a human. The poor decisions made, the hope (and the false).

It was easily his driving force as he made it through the dark glowering of magicks that cursed his downfall, and the others around him. Jayce tried not to open his eyes as the sharp pains followed his limbs, intakes of breathing that punished him with every step he took. Yet it was sudden as he felt a ghostly touch impressed into his upper back, causing him to twitch, swerving his head nearly off the hinges as he looked to see whom the cause of the touch was. The crinkles beneath his eyes expressed clear frustration, as he was tricked once again. Jayce cursed himself mentally as he trudged forward, the onslaught of surprises resuming once again when the light gleamed – jarring as can be for a low fluorescent tone. He recapitulated his position, standing firmly into whatever ground there was irrespective of the pain. Jayce’s hands were worn with exhaustion, each and every ache screaming at him to fall down, rest.

Imaginably he could, but he dared not too. (He couldn’t rest, not again.)

This was his last resort, he was not capable of letting it happen again. He needed to make sure nobody died, he needed to make sure it wasn’t out of bleeding, feeling cold. He knew it far too well, and he was going to make sure he was doing everything in his power to–

Oh wow.

It was painful–painless–for a few moments, leaving him disoriented as he grunted, trying to accumulate to his new surroundings. He wondered where he was now, what would it show him next?

He blinks for a few moments, struggling to stand up as he supports his weight on the hammer. Inevitably cracking his neck, easing himself of the sore pains that riddled his neck and even the rest of his body. His leg was where it had really hurt for the matter, but no reason to worry, he was ready for whatever was gonna come next.

“Jayce?” A gasp escapes his throat, ebbing it raw, his eyes blurring into clearness for the first time. He furrows his brow, attempting to get a clearer look at the source. The man was worn from battle–he tenses, fully rising to his height.

(He heard a voice, and it was yours. Not an illusion, not a past memory. It was really that same cadence that not even the arcane could replicate.)

His throat bobs, churning with a burn that reminds him that he really is here. Where he had first disappeared in the first place, the accursed base of the HexGate facility. Jayce really, really had begun to hate HexTech. His eyes briefly scorn the intricate designs, almost weaved like the stories in tapestries. The stories were wrong, they always had been wrong. He should’ve listened to Heimerdinger, he should've listened to the professor.

What was he doing?

Oh god.

“Is that you?” His eyes flicker back over to the one other person in the room, right in front of him. Jayce attempted—couldn’t—to look you in the eye, it was a difficult thing to do. His brows furrowed, a headache came to the forefront of his pain, and he closed his eyes. He heaved a heavy sigh–he was ashamed.

Killing came so easy to him now, so why is this now any different?

Deciding to test the waters he quietly muttered your name, followed by a gentle greeting; “Hey.” Jayce murmurs, his bottom lip quivered for a moment.

You could see how cracked his lips were, and it made you almost worry for him. Of course, you should be. But you didn’t want to rush him, the way he had carried himself, you could see he was still far too tense and on edge. Both of you were thinking the same, worried about the other, still wanting to embrace each other–even so used to the touches of danger. It was in consideration, that made it all too painfully slow in this reunion. You nodded your head, taking a step forward.

“You’ve been gone quite awhile,” You verbalized with a tilt of your head, gesturing about the length of his absence. “I was… worried.” He gave pause to your comment, a slight widening of his eyes as he lifted his gaze, albeit shortly enough to reach your torso. You looked different from what he remembered, just right there was enough to make him realize the passage of time.

“How–I, how long have I been gone?” He internally winced at the way his voice sounded, his throat felt so sore. Jayce wasn’t sure himself, he felt it best to ask you. He understood that time had passed extensively, not how much for the matter, he felt it passing entirely differently during his time within the core of the arcane–whatever its physical being is. Something entirely reminiscent of a curse. He despised it so much for leaving you and the others without warning. But yet again, he hadn’t taken a step back to think about his words and actions, and how easily he could hurt others. Jayce knew better than that now, atleast.

He could almost feel the hesitation radiating off of you, as if answering would be the end of all things. Jayce heaved a mournful breath, letting his eyes close.

(Maybe it would, he wasn’t sure. Jayce didn’t want you to be afraid of him, is all.)

The room was cold, cold as the winter storm of the day he crossed paths with the arcane, he had almost forgotten that. Yet it was useless when he felt the warmth of something inexplicable touching his cheek, leathery he must feel. Jayce felt the way his skin hardened, the way his body tenses when he’s touched. But–that wasn’t the case here, no.

A small gentle pad of the thumb swiped over the area, leaving him to open his eyes – inextricably locking gazes. Jayce was left surprised, almost recoiling for a split-moment. You kept a firm hold, your gaze all but gentle. Which was the last thing he expected, he searched any inch of your expression, and not once did your eyes falter in that interval of time. Jayce was tempted to stray away from your touch, every nerve in his being telling him to do so. However, it was something else that let him stay in the same position. That same stance, and he was unable to run away from it.

Jayce grimaced, holding his head. Another episode, what he’s seen. Far too much of it, you concluded.

He could see flashes of something unholy, far too close to the sun, or perhaps far too close to the moon. Jayce could see the debilitating deflections of creatures, something supernatural, the coarseness of rainbows. It was the way his lungs squeezed upon itself, twisting in a macabre manner of gestations that left him breathless for a meager few moments. You simply held him through it, and gently murmured, drawing his attention to you once more. Whatever he saw, it was the countless hours of death, it was inescapable. Blurry had it appeared to be once over, as he never wanted to recall the things he experienced. The last thing that had never been blocked out were those memories of you, dying over and over again, especially by his hands. It was in repetition that he blacked out so many times over, constantly finding himself in new arenas. Having to raise his hammer against someone else, seeing their blood splatter against the coldstone of the ground. Jayce wasn’t sure how he hadn’t–broken.

It always felt far too real to him, he was sure it had. The heavy heart that corones his emotions, the way he acts. Probably in that alone that he had caused the deaths of so many innocents so many times, even for a different fabric in the space-fold of time, it still happened. Jayce didn’t want that to happen to you–not again–to anyone else.

With the impossible decisions, and the road he had walked so far. There was nothing short of a future, or a dream for him anymore. He had to fight, even if that meant physically. Jayce knew there was something different in this life of his, he just wished this wasn’t the truth of it. He grieved it even, but he couldn’t truly be given time to process that. Life does not slow down for anyone, not even you, and not even him. One is only human after all, and you sure as hell make the most of it, the best you can, even if people may hate you for the smallest thing. It is innately the most human thing that truly makes each and every person kind, despite their supposed repugnant nature that makes mankind so infamous.

“Jayce,” You murmured, a tone so soft, he didn’t deserve it. “Can you please look at me?” Almost to your whims, he felt so commanded. A rarity in such matters, that he didn’t mind it. Such a simple action, and it seemed so difficult though. But he tried, and succeeded.

For the second time now, he locked eyes with you. His gaze was colored by bashfulness, leaving you to laugh. A tender touch, revering the inches of encroaching warmth that crawled back into his skin bit by bit. You breathed a puff of air, noting the cold atmosphere.

‘He must’ve been cold before he came back out.’ You scrutinized the details for a moment, and considered how much time he spent. How long he went without proper warmth, the lack of temperature. Whatever or whomever it may have been that was his captor, you were glad he was finally freed for good, hopefully. You just were relieved that you could finally just see him, and know that he’s truly there (instead of just a delusion). Even if he appeared differently, he was still here.

“I really did miss you.” You mentioned, seeing the flicker of surprise, surmising the life that brought back the color in his eyes. Less dull now, and far more colorful within the beautiful amber–almost had you wishing you could stay trapped in it forever. Not forever maybe, that would mean you’d never be face to face with him directly, like now, where you stood stronger than ever. As you were more than willing to be a pillar of support for the broken man, who you guess appeared to see so much, it nearly broke his mind. For the brief moment of pause, you could see his jaw tighten, as if he was contemplating something, but wary to air out the thought.

He held the expectation that you would’ve been more fearful of him. Or at the very least angry, god knows he fully deserves that.

Your brows tighten, almost wincing at the knot in your forehead. You’ve done that especially way too much lately, even since Jayce’s sudden disappearance. It was a question of your own, nothing short of anger, all it really was confusion.

Jayce seemed to notice this, drawing you out of your short-lived predicament; “You… alright?” He muttered, somewhat hesitant to draw his hand over yours. He didn’t see himself deserving enough for that yet, not until he knew that it was by all rights okay with you. Only then you nodded to reassure him, biting the inside of your cheek as the moment passed.

Finally garnering the courage to the breadth of your chest, “How… or why have you been gone so long?” Jayce simply looks at you with a half-unreadable expression, as if he had expected this question. One way or another, he was always going to be faced with such a question. After all, he had been trapped inside the palace of the arcane, a presumably long life-time of experiences; enough to age him noticeably.

“I'll explain it,” He paused, a waver in his tone. “In time.” Jayce’s reluctance was more than easy to notice, so you nodded, not fully satisfied with the answer. But you had to wait for answers another time, there were reasonably far more important things to deal with right now. Whatever that may be considered.

So you opted for a hug (entirely and completely out of the blue).

The affectionate gesture, which could mean many things, surprised him. He didn’t count for this happening—it made his knees buckle, the weight hounding you to fall with him. Even with the vice grip he previously held on the handle. He let go of his hammer, wanting and using both arms to just utterly hug you back with the whole of his heart, and he was fulfilled. Nose buried in the crook of your neck, it was filled with your scent. Your own hold on him didn’t vacillate at all–which in retrospect–it gave way to a level of solace he never felt before.

He tightened his hold on you, a silent way of giving thanks, if nothing else. You were glad, happy even that he accepted your inhibited sudden gesture.

You leaned back, slowly but surely, just to check that Jayce wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a failure however [as good as you were at reading expressions], there was naught a hint of it at all. You tilted your head, eliciting a soft laugh from the man.

‘Mission successful!’

His soft laughter elicited a pavlovian response from you, leaving you to move your hands, cradling his face with both hands once again. Anything and everything seemed to fall short around you, for the long while you began to realize, lord you were far from attached to the thought however. His brows furrowed with a small grin, still finding it somewhat amusing with your subtle acts of nature. In spite of what preceded, the decedent time of passing made him begin to freeze.

Color began creeping up against the patches of his skin that crawled from the beginning of his mandible, nape of the neck, and now up to the cheek bones. Expression faltering. (“Hey, uh…”) He tried to muster, but despite that, it fell on deaf ears. Your gaze made him hot, and he was always on the fence on whether or not how he should react. Jayce wasn’t sure how to handle it really, cause you look at him as if he was all that was there in the room. The spark of motivation behind your learning, or even the nights and transitions of time where you listen to him talk about what makes him so inspired. Of course, he always made the effort to do the same, but it had made him wonder if you felt so similarly.

Yet, when he allowed his overthinking to fester, never bringing it up, he was afraid and just simply decided to not ask about it at all. Jayce was always a bit afraid about these things, but with what he's been through, he fears this may be the first and last time he’s allowed to see you.

With that being his driving force, how his heart raced, it gave him a burst of confidence. Jayce lowered his left hand to your hip, the other to holding your face. His eyes were soft, brows raised as if he were asking. It was first and foremost, but his heart continued to beat right up against the cavity of his chest.

There was a flicker of astonishment gleaming in your eyes, but it slowly disappeared, as if you ascertained what he was wanting, and frankly you found it sweet that he had asked for your permission. Nonetheless, you were more than delighted to oblige with his request.

Warmth blossomed exuberant in his chest, as if fireworks were being set off. The sensation it ignited in him was soulful. A first tentative brush, then a second time, more sure than ever now. Jayce’s breathing almost labored when he pulled back, and he could figure the same for you. In a way, it was as if a weight was lifted from his shoulders by such a simple act of love. Even with the moments passing, the two of you leaned against one another, relishing in the feeling that heightened your tension.

Though it did wear off quickly enough.

Jayce watched with patience of a thousand men as you leaned back, re-adjusting yourself as you spoke. And wasn’t it ever the truth.

“If you’ve done that earlier, then i probably wouldn’t even be here right now.” You remarked, causing him to laugh quietly.

(No shit.)

He should’ve done this sooner.

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane x y/n #arcane x gender neutral reader #jayce talis #arcane jayce #jayce x reader

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drinkabletoxicdishsoap · 28 days ago

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the fandom’s characterization of peri becoming a father to dev will always be interesting to me because where it did it even come from ???

I mean in operation birthday takeback, bro CLEARLY did not care. He honestly seemed so disinterested and didn’t even care when they went into his dad’s private office by accident. He didn’t seem care or smile for his godkid when he was happy. Even got a little mean when Hazel made a nice wish for him with the rocket boots (“Well that should keep him entertained for about 10 minutes” or smth like that)

Lost in Fairy World he didn’t really seem to care either??? he really only just wanted his wand and to ‘look good’ in front of his godkid and do things his way without his parents interfering. Sort of like how a babysitter wants to look good in front of the family of the kid they’re looking after if that makes sense.

The only time we ever seen him actually care about dev was in the finale when he said that. But even after fairy world got turned to normal he didn’t really seem sad about dev??? he was just smiling after, seemed genuine too and not a fake one. Maybe it’s just me, but if I was a fairy and lost my first godkid, who took over my home, I would be doing anything BUT smiling, even if we won in the end. Peri doesn’t seem like one to hide his emotions easily either (maybe I’m reading into his character wrong)

You could bring up best of luck, which I would say is a fair point, but I’m going to bring back the babysitter/job synonym. Wouldn’t you get jealous of the person that stole your position or place in a work environment after you got fired?? Especially if your rival/enemy took that position?? I PERSONALLY don’t think the jealousy comes from a place of care, but maybe that’s just me.

It could honestly just be the fandom’s way of coping since Dev doesn’t seem to have any good people in his life after the finale, but why Peri? I mean if you really want to make one of the fairies a father figure to dev, I’d say the anti fairies more over are his family but that’s IF we have to choose.

Don’t get me wrong, I do think all of the peri and dev being a father son duo is super cute and heartwarming!! I love seeing all of the art and fics of that because it really is sweet :3 but to me, it just doesn’t really make sense and seems more out of character for Peri if anything.

He seems to care more about following Da Rules in my opinion. And while I do think it’s important to follow rules, especially when it comes to a job, you shouldn’t rely on them. At a job, you shouldn’t be constantly looking over rules to make sure you’re following them, you might end up tripping over yourself. That’s what Peri ended up doing.

If I assign the duo as anything, it would be the tired babysitter who just wants to get paid and the kid he’s looking after. A dude working a 9-5 at his job he couldn’t really care less about (dev).

I mean (only from his words) he wanted to go into the family business. Not because he genuinely cares for kids, but because it’s what his family has done. He’s treating godparenting as work, not stepping into a kids family and genuinely looking after them.

I do wonder if he would act the same way if he had an easier godkid.

BUT!!!! that’s just my thoughts. I’m sorry if I got anything wrong and feel me to correct me if I did !! Also if you disagree with anything that I’m saying, tell me why in either the replies or reblogs !! I would love to hear other people’s perspectives or opinions.

That’s it 😨 thank you so much for coming to another yap session and I hope you have a great day/night wherever you are in the world <3

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gojoath · 8 months ago

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ಣ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ NEVER HAVE I EVER, OKKOTSU YŪTA

a party with your boyfriend isn’t something you expected to turn so sour. but maybe that’s because you didn’t expect your past relationships to start coming out.. or for one of them to be sitting in the room with you.

summary. fem reader. yandere yūta. obsession. manipulation. stalking. yandere themes. aged up characters. exhibitonism. alcohol mention. jealousy / possessiveness. toxic relationships. never have i ever. talk of past relationships. wc, 9.2k.

note. another repost for the series :)

the air is warm around you as you sway in the living room, surrounded by intoxicated friends and strangers with red plastic cups in their hands and loud music blasting through the halls of the house.

you’d sat your empty drink down a while ago and hadn’t had a moment to refill for yourself yet, so instead you stay empty handed— although you feel pretty much occupied in your company.

you’re here with your boyfriend, yuuta, and his friends as you stand around with a few of the other people you’re not sure you recognise from his class. but you listen politely, not really absorbing the information as you let your eyes wander the room. although you’re quickly brought back with the press of cold fingertips beneath the hem of your t-shirt, before it’s accompanied by a slow breath exhaled against your throat from behind.

your boyfriend was always particularly clingy in these sort of environments, attached to your side like an extra limb or at this moment, wrapped around you from behind— much like the blanket you’d tuck yourself under every night. the only difference being you’re not comfortable in your own bed and your boyfriend, yuuta, had a certain aura, an energy about him. it was the sort of chill that made goosebumps burst along someone’s skin whenever they’d lock eyes with him across the room, the kind that urged people to look away before that happened — to avoid looking at you before he caught them.

it was like a curse of sorts.

“are you okay?” yuuta asks gently as you feel the cool brush of his fingertips brush higher, smoothing along your waist, his touch is cold as always but it soothes the warm press of your own skin as he leans forward. you feel his lips smear across your cheek as he speaks, almost a kiss — like he’s asking, hoping for one.

“mhm, ‘m good,” you turn to meet him, shuddering beneath the heat of his gaze despite the way warm was never really a word that came to mind whenever you looked at him. haunting, chilling, even unsettling maybe— but the type of look that made you not want to look away. like when the naive, pretty girl in the slasher movie thinks it’s a better idea to go towards the source of a sound in her usually empty, dark apartment than leave entirely.. to safety.

if only you knew those seconds, half-seconds that the line of your gaze connected with his, were the only moments in the day that he felt anything at all.

“are you tired? we can leave if you want,” yuuta asks, almost expectantly, hoping you’d take him up on the offer to lock you back up in his apartment, all for him, away from prying eyes of drunken party goers— away from everyone else if you’d let him. he waits for your answer before he kisses you once and you always thought it was a little unexpected how touchy he could be in public, considering how apologetic and awkward he seemed when you first met.

as always, you feel yourself melt into the press of his lips, into the confidence he always kissed you with despite his demeanour and you’re suddenly warm beneath your collar as his fingers press higher— urging you closer as his tongue swipes along your lips. but before you can continue, to go further— you pull away, maybe a little too aware of the amount of eyes around you despite the way your boyfriend doesn’t seem to care at all,

“i’m okay, i’m having fun.” you feel his fingers squeeze tighter as you answer but he smiles,

“are you sure? we can—“

“sheesh, i haven’t seen you guys in forever. where the hell you been, hah?” your conversation is cut off by the slur of a familiar voice as it barrels towards you both through the crowds, urging their way between you so they can throw their arms across your shoulders, an arm for each as yuuta begrudgingly breaks away to stand at the other side.

“maki!” you giggle as your friend uses you to keep herself steady— both of you mostly held up by yuuta strength alone. “we’ve both been busy, yuuta’s especially—“

your words are meant innocently, more of a factual response rather than something somber but that alone seems to ignite the fiery spirit of your friend when she’s groaning as it slips off your tongue. suddenly she’s turning to your boyfriend with a tight frown on her features, an expression that he’d grown familiar to seeing— but it’s one he still manages to meet with a smile.

“oh yeah? i hope you’re taking care of my girl, yuuta.” maki growls and you watch the way he scratches at the back of his neck, the exchange reminds you of the stories she used to tell you about the first time they met in their second year. before he was able to stand on his own.

“huh?! i am, i am!” his voice is almost boyish as he responds and you find yourself smiling at the way yuuta seems to relax around people like maki and his other former classmates. you very rarely seen him interact with other people at all when you were together, it normally just being you two— by his choice, because he always said he didn’t like other people taking away his time with you. but you think it’s charming, the relationship he has with his friends and the way they playfully jab and tease him in a way that makes you giggle.

maki ruffles at his hair as she tsks and you think it’s amusing the way yuuta’s eyes are back on you when he notices the way you’re grinning. “you remember what you were like before i took you under my wing, i’m trustin’ you to protect her!” you’re pretty sure he could easily dodge her playful smacks against his chest, especially given the way the alcohol has probably impacted her precision. but you also think it’s nice that he chooses not to, watching him chuckle, maybe a little embarrassed at her words as he waves her off.

“come on, maki.. you know id kill anyone to protect the one i love,” yuuta’s blushing slightly but there’s no uncertainty in his words, instead it’s like you can hear the pure devotion that’s wrapped and woven itself around every syllable when it’s accompanied by the unwavering cut of his gaze.

but still, it doesn’t make maki falter the way it might anybody else— instead she shrugs as her arms unwind from you both to cross her chest. “yeah, yeah. i’ll leave you lovebirds, third wheeling ain’t my thing..” she groans again before she whips around to stumble backwards slightly— balanced again by your boyfriends quick reflexes as he steadies her with one hand. his free hand finds its place at your lower back as he takes a step closer to you again.

“you remember what i said, yuuta! take care of her or else,” you’re laughing, grateful to be able to have someone like maki in your life despite people who may find her to be a little rough around the edges. she was one of the best people you could have with you, you think. she offers you both a smug grin, thumb pointing against her chest as she backs into the crowd, “i’ll be the one to kill you if ya don’t!”

yuuta chuckles quietly as you both wave her off, watching her push her way through the wave of warm bodies that block her path so easily— with a power that was so uniquely maki.

another breath and he’s back on you, just the same as he was before as his body looms into you— draping over you like a shadow as his lips reach forward to smear along your cheeks again. just like before, you turn to meet him— twisting into another kiss that he meets so eagerly, greedily and you rasp softly as he traces across your skin with his finger. he was good at that sort of affection despite how binding it seemed.

“i..i mean it.” yuuta’s words are muffled slightly against your lips, almost drowned out by the music but they’re still so clear to you when they echo in his voice. although they urge you to pull away as you give him a naive blink,

“mean what?”

“what i said.” he answers quickly, like he’s desperate to get back to where you left off, “i’d kill for the one i love,” it’s almost misplaced, the kind smile on his features and the way his eyes soften slightly despite the way something cursed twists in his gaze— his words are spoken like a promise. it makes you feel suddenly cold despite the warm proximity and the stuffy room, too many bodies squeezed together but you catch a chill as you look up at your boyfriend over your shoulder.

“you say that but, isn’t that a little dramatic?” you turn in his hold, blinking up at him as your palms press flat into his chest and yuuta looks at you— intently, all adoring as his own hands loop around your waist to squeeze.

“no,” his voice sounds lower as he answers, chest pressed against yours and you wonder if he can feel the way his answer makes your heart jump slightly, maybe that’s why he clears his throat awkwardly as your gaze holds his. “n-no i don’t think so, because it’s for our love.” his tone feels unsteadier now, like when someone is quickly trying to explain a point, their views, before somebody can interrupt— he needs you to hear him justify his devotion.

“i don’t want you stolen from me, i dont want anyone else to take you away from me. so i’d kill them, so you’re happy with me.. forever.” yuuta’s arms squeeze tighter around you as he speaks, like he’s scared you’re going to break away, although something in your mind tells you that wouldn’t be possible even if you tried. still, he’s smiling— that same warm look that he’d greeted you with the first time you’d met in the supermarket. “that’s why, i’d kill them. i’d do it for you. for us.” the words roll from his lips so easily, like he’s convinced if they’re said in his soft, kind tone— meant with pure love, that it would take away the threatening effect,

despite the way it would make any normal person's blood run cold at the promise.

something tugs at the corner of your lips at the way you don’t take him seriously, your tone a resonant pull as your palms press into his chest through his shirt, “nobody is going to take me away from you, yuu.” he can feel the warmth of your hands on his skin despite the layer between you both.

“i know. i wouldnt let them.” yuuta leans in again, to steal another kiss— to take what’s rightfully his but you don’t twist and curl into him like you normally do. you pull away, and all he can feel is the coolness against his chest where your fingers had been before you tug him towards the couch, pushed into the corner of the room.

“let’s take a seat.”

the next few hours at the party pass by fairly quickly and your boyfriend is closer than ever to you as your thighs rest over his own, his fingers fidgeting and pressing into your skin between kisses and staggered breaths. it makes you feel like a teenager again, steamy makeout sessions on the couch at a party between giggles, but you feel more comfortable now— leaning into him, hidden away in the corner rather than stood in the middle of the room as his tongue binds with yours.

every kiss with yuuta felt messy but purposeful, his hold on you was strong and his mouth was hot— pressing into you, pushing his name between your lips as his cold fingers hook around the back of your neck to squeeze and you melt, everytime he does it, with every exhale he breathes into you.

you’re so lost in eachother you barely notice the way the seats surrounding you begin to fill up quickly, the drunken party-goers lured into the living room as panda and maki act as ring leaders. the booming sound of their voices draws back you and your boyfriends attention, although his eyes remain on you.

you listen intently, albeit a little kiss drunk and drowsy as you press into yuuta— you hear the never have i ever name being dropped and you know immediately what’s happening, finding a giddy smile pulling at your lips at the nostalgia that follows along with the title. you’re familiar with it ofcourse, familiar with the giggles and secrets that the game always seemed to spill— it reminded you of younger times, but you think it’ll be exciting now as maki gives you a wink before pushing the half-full beer in her hand in your direction.

“come on, you’re playing right? can’t do it empty-handed.” she falls down on the other side of the couch next to you as panda stays in his place in the middle of the floor. you feel yuuta nose at your cheek as he explains the rules, urging you for another kiss— to turn back now that he’s acquired an even bigger audience to claim you infront of. but you don’t budge, so he relents as his fingers squeeze at your waist.

“are you playing? i thought you’d want to go home instead, it’s late.” he tries again, another last ditch effort to get you home as it goes over your head. he accompanies the question with the captivating pull of his hands as he squeezes at you from where you’re almost sat on his lap.

another press of his lips and you’re smiling, “yeah, i love this game! you’ve never played?” you reply like it’s obvious and you don’t see the flash of disappointment flash across yuuta’s features because he smiles too. he leans into you slightly,

“w-what are the rules?” suddenly he’s more than eager, albeit in his own awkward way. it’s only normal for your boyfriend to want to know everything about your other loves— apart from him ofcourse. his eyes are on you as you as he asks, gazing up at you like he’s mapping out your features. like he hasn’t memorised them already.

“listen, panda’s explaining them.” and yuuta does, he listens to the game rules while his hands squeeze into your skin, he misses the taste of your lips already— wishes he could have them again. the rules are simple to follow, but he thinks maybe it’ll be his chance to let everyone see the things you both have done together— all of the different ways he’s claimed you, taken you as his own over and over again.

“ah, i don’t have a drink.”

“we can share.” you say it so softly, without hesitation and it makes him feel warm— drawing him in until he’s kissing once at the corner of your lips and squeezing you even closer into his side as he knocks his forehead against your temple softly.

“okay.”

the game starts out innocently enough; never have i ever told a lie, snuck out of my house— but then as you expect, as always it morphs into something a little spicier; never have i ever fucked someone in my childhood bed, fucked on a boat, eaten whipped cream from someone else’s bodyand with every question, every press of your lips to the beer as you take a drink, you feel yuuta fidget uncomfortably at your side as his gaze cuts into you.

he doesn’t remember this, because it wasn’t him on the other side of these experiences— looking down at you as you lapped at the cream on his body or wrapped up in the comforter of your childhood bed. it should’ve been him, he should’ve been the only one to touch you, to feel you, it wasn’t fair that people have taken what’s his— that they’d taken advantage of you, knowing he wasn’t there to protect you. it wasn’t fair. it hurts. why won’t you look at him.

his hands ball so tightly you can see the tendons, even in the low light. the keen edge of his jealousy was like flint, a spark away from fire.

“baby? we didn’t do that.” the words were expressionless, they carried no hint of anything you could read. you know you hadn’t went over your past relationships with eachother. but he’s looking at you like you’ve burned him, betrayed him as his words hiss from between his teeth— just loud enough to be spoken to you only when you finally turn to meet him. his gaze feels empty, but he blinks up at you like he’s begging you to put him at ease— you’re lying, right?

to yuuta, you were his everything— his only, was it wrong for him to expect the same level of respect, of loyalty from you? hadnt you been waiting for him to find you, to loveyou. it’s cruel, that’s why he’d told you— he’d promised to kill anyone who’d try to break you apart, he should’ve warned you that the promise extends even more to the people who’ve seen, felt you before him. who’ve stolen what’s rightfully his.

“oh, never have i ever hooked up in gojo-sensei’s classroom?” you shift at that, yuuta feels it— picks up on the way it’s accompanied by the same reaction from the other side of the room and his low-lidded gaze, his instincts follow that movement until it locks on its owner.

kamo noritoshi, they were in the same year at school— albeit noritoshi attended the kyoto campus but they’d met a few times. normally at the good-will festival — yuuta had never found him to be too impressive, the years that he’d participated he remembers beating him, single-handedly— if you could call it that. maybe he should’ve hit him harder, had you already met before that day? because now he’s looking at you, looking at what’s his with such a heat in his gaze that makes something boil dangerously beneath his skin.

suddenly, there was an ache in him, like a rotted tooth. but this doesn’t mean anything not yet, so yuuta presses closer— his eyes are back on you and he watches you, like he’s waiting. like he’s hoping, you wouldn’t hurt him like that, right?

you feel your cheeks burn significantly when your hand twitches, almost in sync with noritoshi’s at the other end of the room as you go to knock back the remaining liquid at the bottom of your cup. it earns you a few hoots and whistles from the surrounding ex-students, your friends— but just as you feel the plastic cup press to your lips, your movement goes no further before it’s stopped by a cool, tight press of something that wraps around your wrist. almost like a plea.

“please, don’t.” your pulse jumps, for a reason that you don’t know when you turn to the source of the voice, the source of the vice grip that’s coiled it’s way around your hand. yuuta has looked at you a thousand times, but theres something different in his gaze, an intensity that you’re not familiar with. your mouth feels dry and you can hear the sound of your throat as you swallow.

“it’s not fair.” his voice was cool, but you see his jaw tighten, just a little. “you didn’t tell me.”

his face twists and almost, you think you see anger and your nerves seem like they sing with the danger of it. you almost reach for him, to soothe him, to reassure him before it can go further but your fingers rest in the air where they reach with his next look. instead, yuuta rises, giving the room a sorry smile before he’s excusing himself—

“ah, sorry— i gotta go to the bathroom.” something tugs at you with his words, just beneath your skin.

“hah? what the hell?” maki calls after him and noritoshi is looking at you both now despite the way your boyfriend pushes into the hallway suddenly. he can sense the shift in the atmosphere and you notice the uncomfortable shift in his form as he seems to sink deeper into the couch. you feel warm under your clothes suddenly, embarrassed— guilty? you’re not sure, but it’s almost immediate the way you find your body pushing up to follow.

you’re driven by the obedience, the love he’s knowingly buried into you.

“i’m gonna go check on him.” you echo a few seconds later, you’re deliberately avoiding the eyes at the other end of the room but you still manage to meet maki’s before you’re turning to leave. she gives you an almost knowing look despite the way her face stays neutral.

“hey!” panda calls but maki cuts him off as she groans, like she’s trying to save face.. for both your sake.

“agh, leave ‘em— get onto the next one, will ya!”

yuuta feels like he’s in a daze as he stalks down the hallway, he didn’t realise you’d known the kyoto students like that— known him like that without him even picking up on it. he’d let him live with those memories, he wonders if he still thinks about you? the press of your soft skin beneath his palms, how far had you gotten? what desk had you used? had he sat at it previously? studied at it? his chest rises and falls rapidly, like its trying to keep pace with his thoughts.

it’s like all of the work he’s done has been erased, your schedule he’s memorised— the people he’s steered from you, the relationships he’s ruined, not knowing that noritoshi was right there. knowing the face you make when your mind is thick with pleasure, was he able to satisfy you the way your boyfriend does? does he still remember how tight your walls squeeze as you cum?

the bathroom door closes behind him and yuuta breathes heavy as his forehead rests against the cool wood. he feels like he’s losing his mind, his progress, his facade. but he listens, he recognises the footsteps that sound a few seconds later and he smiles.

“yuuta?” your voice calls as you push yourself down the hallway, you hope he hasn’t left yet— the idea makes something pulse in your chest, something ache in the space between your ribs because you don’t see the signs, you’re blind to them when it comes to his love.

another step and you can still hear the party raging on in the room you just left, although the hallway is eerily quiet. the floorboards squeak as you go to pass the bathroom and suddenly— you’re moving, pulled forcefully into the room so quickly that you don’t even hear the door open and you go to scream, you almost do.

the movement is so fast it steals the air from you, takes it forcefully from your lungs and it’s almost instinctive the way your arms raise to push at his chest, to push him away. until you realise that the person stood across from you now, was the one you were looking for in the first place. but the door is slammed behind you and now it’s just you two in the stuffy party bathroom. you look at him, there’s something different looking back. you can barely speak.

“sorry, did that scare you?” there was something uneasy about the silence that settles between you both; like a held breath, like the rabbit beneath the hawks shadow and you can feel your pulse striking your skin. the deep blue of his eyes seem to seep into you, to fill your throat to choking. you couldn’t cry out even if you dared too.

“but you came. i knew you would” a tightness he hadn’t noticed was there in his chest— eased a little, he wouldn’t lose you yet. his voice is sweet despite the carnal look he’s giving you, his eyes seem darker in this lighting.

“i thought you left.” finally you speak and your voice rises warm and resonant, sweetly pure. would you have been upset if he did? you would’ve left with him though, wouldn’t you? not that he was ever too far away, not from you, not ever.

“not without you,” he steps forward and something burns hot in you, an impatience, a certainty. like he’s telling you he’s about to have exactly what he wants, you’re about to give it to him. but something in his demeanour makes you step back, to press yourself against the door until he’s over you— caging you there, claiming you like trapped prey. the heat rises up your neck, his fingers wrap over your face and you can smell nothing but him as he curls over you. the push of his lips seem only a second away from pressing into yours. “i’d never leave you.”

“yuuta, what was that back there?” your stomach trembles and a warm drop of pleasure spreads beneath your skin. why do you want more still? you press your palms against his chest.

“i beat him once.” you can’t move, watching. you almost don’t breathe. his face is calm and blank, not tensed with effort like the strain of his voice would suggest but then his words settle and the room grows quiet again despite the music through the door behind you. it feels stuffy, you’re trembling. are you scared? “at the good-will festival.”

he eyes you for a reaction, “did you love him?” the sudden swoop of your stomach, his unsettlingly quiet anger. you were like a fish eyeing the hook.

“yuuta ofcourse i didn’t.”

“baby, i didn’t like it,” your stomach rolls, awash with nerves and relief at once. you drink him in, there’s hurt in his gaze— his bangs fall slightly over his eyes when your own hold them. “i couldn’t think..” his teeth grit and he exhales before he continues, voice returning to something sweet. like his mask slipped, even if only for a moment. “i couldn’t think about you with him,”

“the way he was looking at you.” he goes on and you rasp softly as he draws his fingertips along your jaw before he squeezes, the press of the promise ring on his finger is cold,

“you’re mine. all of you. do you remember?” his voice was warm with desire, you feel it heat across your skin. the strength of your lust, the speed in which it flowers, shocks you. you can’t breathe now but you don’t struggle, any normal person would run— would be able to see the red flags, the warning signs that are so hard to miss but you don’t. not with yuuta, not when he’s staring at you— when he’s already caught you like a wolf with the rabbit's neck between his teeth. “that’s what you said. you promised.” he strokes you with his left hand and your hips lift to the touch, you pull him closer and you tremble.

“i’m yours,” your mouth opens underneath him and the warmth of his throat pours into yours. you couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but drink him in, each breath as it came, the needy movements of his lips before his tongue follows.

it’s desperate, messy— yuuta’s claiming you like a dog. the kiss is full of teeth as he grabs at you, presses you even tighter into the door behind you as his body pushes flush against your own until your lungs quiver.

he’d normally much prefer to take you home into the comfort of your own bedroom, so he can take his time with you— pull out as many orgasms as he wants, the ones he owns without interruption. but now, he wants the whole party to know who you belong to, who’s name you moan when you cum and cream and he’ll make sure the walls remember it too. everything he does, he does for you. can’t you see that?

“i-i’m sorry, i can’t wait.” yuuta groans, exhales warm against your lips and you grab at him, your hands are in his hair to pull and he drools into the kiss— sucking at your tongue and pressing his already hard cock against the intimate skin between your thighs. “i.. i need you, baby. please.. give me what’s mine.” his words are a hormone-drunken plea and you’re hooked, drinking them up intoxicatingly— you’d let him ruin you if he asked if that same kind tone. like he hasnt already, for anyone else that is.

“i want you, yuuta. c-cant wait either.” it’s a strong pull as he moves you, but not disorientating, yet you still feel your skin burn hot where his long fingers are pressing through the thin fabric of your clothes. the fabric feels like it moulds even closer to the shape of your figure—almost like there’s nothing between his palm and your skin. he turns you both, almost stumbling across the already small bathroom, but he keeps you upright, stepping back without breaking his lips from yours until you’re pressed against the ceramic sink on the counter in the corner.

“he needs to know,” yuuta pulls away to breath deep, his palms resting against your cheeks, drawing his fingertips along them as he looks at you. “i need to know. to know it’s love.”

“i love you, i love you more than anyone.” he hums and you gasp when he finally kisses you again, cutting off your sentence before it’s replaced with a breathless exhale and he takes the opportunity to dip his tongue past your lips, allowing it to glide along your own as he tastes you.

it’s almost desperate, the way you’re pulling him closer — giving into his thoughts, his own fogged mind, you found yuuta’s devotion to be charming especially when it was coated in pretty words and compliments. he had you bending to his will, playing the part of the perfect girlfriend that he knew you’d be. you only needed him to complete you, to push you in the right direction, to love you.

you feel a coiling pleasure that’s been building tighten delightfully and his hand squeezing your waist only makes it burn brighter. you whimper against his lips and the sound drives him closer, practically pinning you against the small countertop that holds the sink behind you both until it’s squeezing against the back of your thighs.

“you’re so pretty, so warm.” yuuta groans and the deep drone of his voice curls down your spine, you can’t pull yourself away from him—not that it was even a possibility, with the way his strong grip keeps you in your place against his chest. his palms explore the topography of your hips, down your waist and up your thighs from where he’s pinning you onto the surface beneath you. he’s grabbing at you, pulling at your bones like he’ll rip you from your skin— dig through to your heart to have you, to consume you, devour you entirely and bury his love in the deepest parts that remain.

“hurry, please—” you plead against his mouth, breathing heavy with him and he feels sticky at the words, spoken against his lips. he feels his cock twitch and thicken behind his pants, he’s leaking already— heart racing from your touch alone, the kisses aswell. his thumb squeezes into your skin before he’s licking into your mouth; burying soft groans into your throat like they’re honeyed secrets and he’s losing himself in the dizzy spin of the room.

“say it first, for me.” yuuta grunts, almost begs and the kiss breaks wet as he stands tall, taps on the back of your thighs to help hoist you up onto the counter top before you jump eagerly and he’s slotting himself between them. he presses into the heat between your thighs as he almost stutters deeper, he wants nothing more than to sink into you completely.

but his relaxed bangs fall messy over his eyes with his next exhale, low-lidded and convincing. the dark glint in his eyes almost has you in a trance. “i love you, yuuta. have all of me. take it.”

your fingers tangle in his hair once more and yuuta can’t help but continue kissing you when you give him what he wants, what he needs. the hem of your skirt slinks up with his wrists, slender digits squeezing at the fat and muscle it reveals as his hands stroke up your thighs, pushing your skirt up until your legs spread around him and his fingers are trailing closer to where he needs to be most.

it happens so fast, it’s so desperate when you feel him push your panties to the side messily and the first swipe of his finger between your folds is purposeful, but rushed. he drags the rough pad of his finger beneath the hood of your clit as he rolls the sensitive bud and you twitch, grabbing onto the fabric of his shirt before the wet disconnect of his lips from yours has you whimpering softly.

the pretty sounds you make for him still make him burn.

“you’re so wet. so soft. d-does it feel good?“ yuuta hums before he’s deliberately pressing down onto your puffy clit harder, eagerly, like he knows what you’re gonna say before you even do— he does, because he knows you best, every part of you, every response and twitch. but you nod cutely and he keeps up the same pace and pressure until you’re wet enough for him to push two fingers inside, almost whimpering when he’s not met with much resistance.

his fingers are long and you hiss at the stretch but you feel something blissful flutter in your tummy when you watch him fall onto his knees between your thighs hungrily. “did he make you feel this good?” he shifts one over his shoulder as he keeps you spread, you know who he means when he gazes up at you from under his lashes. you shake your head almost frantically, panting, you can’t risk him stopping.

“its okay, i forgive you,” yuuta whispers and the words pour over your folds, “because it’s mine now. the sooner you forget about everyone else, the better. they’re not good for you, i’ll give you lots of love, i promise.” he angles his fingers inside of you up with angled purpose, like he’s showing off his knowledge of your body, of the reactions he can pull out of you so easily. but there’s some truth to his words now, he’d intentionally broken you that way— now even the press of your own fingers long to be replaced with his own.

he brushes them against the spongy spot inside of you until you’re slapping your palm over your pouty lips in a sorry attempt to muffle how needy you sound. but that won’t do, not when he’s got a point to prove— what’s histo claim, he needs everyone to hear it. who owns you, who loves you, who’d kill for you.

“don’t do that. i need to hear you, please.” yuuta’s warm breath rolls over your slick folds, it’s a second his eyes break from your own, transfixed and low-lidded with hunger as he watches his digits sink into you. until his head lowers and his tongue is curling against your clit before he’s dragging it back up, he’s watching you again when your lips part to moan and it makes his cock twitch.

it’s languid the way he pumps his fingers in and out of your wet heat, but he licks at the space between your folds like he’s starving— his movements thick with hunger and lust as he gives you another look. one that makes something sharp nip at your spine. you’re not embarrassed at how loud you’re being now because he told you it’s fine, it’s hisafterall— it’s what he wants, needs, so it would be rude of you to keep that from him, what’s his— when he’s being so good for you.

the pretty sounds from your lips curl against the small walls of the bathroom and you can still hear the deep bass, the giggles and laughs from the living room despite the lewd squelching from between your thighs, drowned out with yuuta’s slurps and smacks that are currently even louder. if someone were to pass by, they’d know what was going on— who it was considering the mantra of his name that you’re repeating like a prayer. like he’s your god despite the way he’s the one worshipping you.

he continues to sink his fingers into you, swirling tantalising circles into your clit with his tongue while his fingers drag more slick out, making a wet mess between your thighs as he laps it back up and buries his face into you with a loud swallow. every noise is so much messier than the one before, echoing from his chest while your hands grab and curl in the dark roots of his hair to pull. just how he likes, the pain makes his insides almost curl, tremble and shake. he needs more.

yuuta licks into your pussy and you almost choke on a babbled cry of his name as you shake against the counter top. you feel him flatten his tongue against your sensitive clit before he’s sucking it gently between his lips and suckling until butterflies pool in your stomach.

“who are you thinking of?” your pussy throbs around his fingers and he breathes a warm sigh across your skin. your eyes clench tight as your thighs quiver against the width of his shoulders and your head drops back as his dark gaze cuts up into you. you feel him drag his tongue in slow, thorough swirls over your clit as your hips rock side to side. like you’re chasing the friction, begging for him. your actions almost answer the question itself.

“you,” your head lolls forward, but your words don’t falter— your certainty makes something burst warm along the back of yuuta’s neck as he looks up at you. he couldn’t help it, he had to check— had to make sure that you weren’t thinking of someone else as your boyfriend fucked you. it should be only him, always.

“do you promise?” he asks again, just to be sure and you blink— head rolling back when he brushes his fingers against the gummy, sensitive spot inside of you and you squeeze, cry for him.

“yes! i p-promise,”

“that’s good. you’re close, i can feel it.” yuuta tells you, purrs against your folds as he works you with practiced precision. his eyes are still on you despite the way your hips twist under his touch but his body leaves you suddenly and he pulls away to break through the suddenly suffocating layers of his clothes.

“s-sorry, i need to feel you around me. i need it. all of it.” a ragged sound leaves you at his words, as he begs to feel you and it has you feeling drowsy and pliant despite the orgasm he’s ripped from you so cruelly. he quickly reveals the soft planes of his ivory skin, shoving his slacks down just enough for his cock to spring out and smear precum along the skin of your thighs as he draws closer.

yuuta really was gorgeous in his own way, dark hair messy where it falls over his face, his hand sweeping it back before he’s stepping forward and shooting you a lidded, almost sleepy look. it was like another side to him, one that he kept hidden away— like a body under the stairs or a secret. but he’s flushed to the tips of his ears despite the shadows that pool in the depth of his gaze, and you suddenly feel like you can’t get enough air with each breath.

his dark eyes pull like the tide, no matter how you swim against it.

“yuuta, i want to cum.” his smile grows, almost giddy and sweet with how much you want him— the way you rely on him to make you feel good. the way you purr his name and grab at his skin, is this how you act for him alone? but his whole body trembles when your fingers reach forward to wrap around the base of his cock, a plea— you’re beggingfor him and who is he to deny you of that.

he’s all you’ll ever need, this moment was proof enough. will you let him keep you all to himself? you’d make a pretty centrepiece in his bedroom— locked away in there forever.

“i know, baby. you need me for that, remember? i told you.” you won’t be able to love anyone but me. you feel yuuta grab you in a strong grip before he’s wrapping your thighs around his hips, but any other words are choked upon when the head of his cock finally finds your flexing cunt.

you both gasp as he sinks carefully up inside you, his hands squeezing and pulling your hips closer to his as your back arches. his cock sinks into you slowly despite the need in his movements, it’s like he’s savouring the sweet pull of your body and your cunt, like he’s being lured to his demise by a siren— a succubus. he’d follow you anywhere, he’d wait for you in hell. the length of him curves upwards and feels warm inside of you, gliding so sweetly past the spots along your walls that make your whole body twitch, your pussy tightening harder around him the deeper he goes.

“you’re always s-so tight.” yuuta’s cool fingers grope just a little too hard at your hips, dragging you along his cock as he forces your walls to spread open for him and he feels something ache deep in his stomach. his desire is heavy in each laboured breath he takes as he tries to keep a firm grip on his composure— albeit it seems to slip with every saccharine squeeze of your thighs and cunt around him. but his eyes remain on you. “always.” the squeeze is like his own little reminder that nobody has touched you since he did last either. he always liked to check. to be sure.

you can only reply with a sound that’s high pitched and needy when the weight of his hips finally rest against yours and he bottoms out. but you only seems to draw him closer, pulling him into you so he can drool and smear more kisses along your features— like the way a dog would appreciate its owner. mark you in his scent. cover you in it, he’d bury you between his ribs.

you’re both sweating hard but yuuta stills feels cold, his touch soothes your overheating skin and it lights a fuse that fizzles into something that feels even better. “yuuta, please move!” he feels his toes and fingers curl when you bear down on him eagerly, greedy for it, eager for more of his love. the love that he’s more than willing to pour into you, even if you choke on it.

“s-sorry,” he finally pulls his hips back, dragging his cock out of you and your pussy squeezes down tight on him in response, like it’s trying to lure him back inside, keep him forever. you’re tightening around each inch you lose as his fingers dig bruises into your hips and he rolls them back into you, beginning a steady pace with another slow withdrawal.

he wants you louder, messier— all his.

a whimper leaves you when you feel yuuta’s head dip towards yours, his body leaning over you to smear a few more kisses along your jawline. he’s working your hips to meet the encouraging pull of his hands from where they’re messaging, squeezing your skin with his bruising grip and you drink it up eagerly.

the pace he’s sent isn’t fast, albeit not helped by the cramped space and the way he doesn’t want to hurt you, but the drive behind each thrust still remains— he’ll make love to you anywhere. always. he can’t be close enough to you, something in his bones wills him closer and he can’t look away— he wants your eyes on him, your heart in his hands, all of you bare. your soul. your entirety.

your body claps against yuuta’s as he kisses over your skin, teeth nipping at your neck hungrily, but determined to leave marks before his lips are gliding along the sensitive spots that have you twitching.

“y-you’re squeezing me, it feels so good. so p-perfect.” he looks at you again, emphasising his words with a few sharp thrusts, before his pace inevitably speeds up, he’s gripping so tight into your skin that he’ll surely leave bruises— he hopes he does. your hips press almost painfully into the cool countertop behind you but he’s bending your body like you’re clay between his palms. he can’t stop, you won’t let him.

“yuu— fuck, faster.“ you finally manage to respond, whispery and choked off, but you can’t deny the physical reaction you have to yuuta’s compliments, as always. your tight cunt bares down tight around him and you both gasp before his breaks off into something dreamier, his pace stuttering as follows it with a few slow, deep thrusts into your doughy pussy.

“i’d do anything for you.” he whispers, like a reminder smeared along your skin— he’d write it in blood if it would make you remember. “only for you.” and you bask in it, want to give back all that you can as he kisses along your face. he inhales the sweet familiar scent of your perfume that’s now mixed with his own scent and he feels something carnal boil in his stomach. “do you know that? everything is for y-you.” every twisted little scenario made to bring you closer. it’s all with your best interests in mind, to keep you with him.

yuuta repositions his feet and takes up a pace that’s a little faster, rougher, pounding into you mercilessly as he marks your skin as his—leaving blooming marks between soft kisses along your neck and jawline.

it was always intoxicating to see him like this, to feel him so unfiltered and hungry, digging orgasms out of you like he’s starving— his sexual prowess still catches you off guard, no matter how many times you’ve had him like this. the positions he’s put you in— the places he’s taken you. a groan kicks out of his chest when the harsh slap of his hips makes your thighs tighten around him, and you feel your own hips tremble, as do your lungs like you’re looking over the edge of a cliff. you’re almost blind with pleasure.

“s-so pretty, so pretty.” yuuta tells you, his praise dripping through your rocking body and down your spine and it feels like he ignites something in you— something twisted and dark. he makes your insides curl and ache as your lips drop open to moan his name and his own ragged breathing cools the spit over your ignited nerves. you’re past caring now— but he hopes they hear you. “i won’t let him touch you again. it’s not f-fair. you’re mine. i’d beat him again…. and again, and a-again.” he’s grunting, babbling, words lost and hidden between huffs of your name— pants as he breathes deep. you can barely hear him.

your nails dig into his forearms, pressing as you arch your chest against his own— pushing closer, heart to heart, “g-gonna cum—“ you gasp, lips parting in a pretty o-shape as pleasured tears gather at the corners of your thick lashes. his gaze falters for a moment, from you to your creaming pussy then back to you, and he feels like the breath is punched from his lungs at how pretty you look lost in the pleasure he’s giving you. as always. he’ll never tire of the sight of you— the smell, your touch. he’d recognise you even in darkness.

“look at me, on me, b-baby. please” yuuta’s words slur, scratchy and growly, letting his fingers trace along your sweat slicken skin to roll your puffy clit as he continues to pound against the right spot inside of you. the ones he’s memorised, that only he knows. nobody else would have you like this, so fucked-out, so pliant. you listen, you blink up at him— gaze cloudy beneath your lashes but you’re looking at him and it makes his chest squeeze, burn.

you’re more than eager to give yourself up to him completely after a few more clapping thrusts, arching your back as you whine long and wordless for him. the hot rush of bliss and warmth settles over your skin when you cum, the fluttering press of your pussy throwing you into an orgasm so intense you see white behind your eyes.

“i love y-you, i love you.” yuuta purrs, his cock flexing and it doesn’t take him long before he’s giving in to the needy coax of your cunt and spilling thick and hot inside of you. a low whine rumbles low in his throat as his body curls over yours with a sharp groan—pinning you to the cool surface beneath you as the sink digs into your skin.

the room is now filled with nothing more than your ragged pants as you both try to catch breath, but his body blankets you, he’s still much too pre-occupied pressing kisses to your cheeks and mouth to notice the way you’re shaking beneath him.

“yuuta, come on.” you giggle a few seconds later as the haze in your mind clears, the sound of your laugh makes yuuta shudder— push even closer despite the way you’re wrestling to push him off. you finally separate, peel away from eachother— your faces puffy and half-bruised from kisses.

“are you ready to go home now?” your boyfriend calls soothingly as he massages at your skin, letting your feet dangle from the countertop as he kneads at the skin between your hip and thigh. his eyes are on you as he stares at you, a whisper of a kind smile on his lips.

“okay, yeah. i’m definitely tired now.” you laugh and yuuta’s eyes close with his next smile.

“i’ll stay over. so i know you’re safe.” he helps you to your feet as he brushes down your clothes before fixing his own, pulling your panties back over your pussy before his load can leak out. he likes knowing you’re holding him, full of him— although it makes something in his bones shake at the idea of people seeing him drip from between your thighs instead. maybe next time.

“yuuta you’ve stayed over every day this week.” your words jostle him slightly from his lewd thoughts, catching him off guard so much he almost can’t hide the pout your answer brings from him. you’re smiling, but your words almost feel like a rejection.

“is that bad? i miss you when you’re not there, i get worried.. incase something happens.” yuuta’s hand captures yours as he stares at you but you don’t say anything. “if i stayed forever.. it would be easier.. to protect you, then i’d never have to leave.” the expression you’re wearing is unreadable, not giving him the slightest hint of what you’re thinking and it makes him uneasy. are you leaving him? do you not want him by your side? after all of those times you’ve asked him to be with you forever? were those lies?

if only you knew you’d never been without him, even when he’s not there he is— always, watching, protecting. it’s not hard for him to get into your apartment. you make it soeasy.

“i’m sorry, too much? i just don’t want to leave you yet.” yuuta exhales, the space in his chest hurts. put him at ease. for love.

“n-no, no it’s fine. it’s cute. you can stay over.” your hand squeezes his as you go to reach for the door and he moves to let you go first— smiling down at you before the door opens and your lips part to gasp.

“huh? noritoshi?” you’re unaware of how long he’s been standing there but the flush on his cheeks and the sudden restriction in his pants would serve as proof enough if you weren’t already embarrassed. but you feel yuuta lean over you again, like how he was at the start of the night except his attention leaves you this time— his haunting gaze is focused on someone else. he’s like an animal making a show of claiming it’s mate infront of another.

“um…. sorry, were you waiting?” your words are quiet, the encounter is awkward to say the least but noritoshi clears his throat despite the way he’s deliberately looking anywhere but at the two of you.

“ah, no..” he starts, “you text me. you told me to come. i thought you may be in danger.” his phone is in his hand as he turns it to you and you’re there, your number— asking him to do just that.

“i…. didnt.” it doesn’t make sense, you don’t remember the last time you even had your phone, had you left it in the living room? was this meant as some sort of prank? but who would want noritoshi to hear you and yuuta? what sort of twisted prank was that.

“she has me. i’d protect her myself. that’s what pure love is.” yuuta finally speaks after a few moments of silence, his voice is lower than normal— not the sweet tone it takes when he speaks to you. his arms squeeze tight around your waist to pull you closer and you’re still too lost in thought to pick up on the tension between the two men in the hallway. noritoshi swallows thick and yuuta leans forward to press a kiss against your cheeks before he speaks, his gaze doesn’t budge from infront of him as he does.

“baby. we should go.” the petname is soft, back to his usual gentle tone and accompanied by the pull of his hands as he guides you back through the hallway, “excuse us.”

“yeah..” you’re confused— you’re not sure what’s happening as yuuta untangles himself from you to lead you away and suddenly you really are tired, ready to tuck yourself into bed and cuddle against your boyfriends chest. you need a well deserved shower considering how sweaty you feel underneath your clothes. but still, you can’t stop your mind from retracing your steps, you’ve not seen your phone since you got here, you remember texting maki— letting her know you’d arrived… that was the last text you sent… you didn’t bring a bag, had it fallen out of your pocket? you remember you were getting annoyed about holding it… you remember… your boyfriend… offering to keep it in his pocket.

you blink up at yuuta, but goosebumps seem to rise along the back of your neck when you notice he’s already looking back. he smiles, kind, before he squeezes at your intertwined palms as he leads you.

his hand still feels cold where it holds yours.

doesn’t it feel nice to have someone care about you so much?

#cw yandere #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #okkotsu yuta smut #okkotsu yuuta smut #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #yuuta smut #jjk x you #yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuta x you

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boohorns1136439 · 2 months ago

Text

Learning to belong ~ poly!MHA x fem!Reader (01)

I didn’t expect to drop the first chapter so fast. Thank you everyone who liked and/or commented on my previous post !! Hope y’all will like this one !!

Summary <- 01 -> 02

Masterlist

Taglist

Warning: I don’t know anything about hospital or how they actually work, I tried to make it accurate as much as possible, cursing ?

tags: aged-up characters ; Pack! Izuku Midoriya X Bakugo Katsuki X Shoto Todoroki X Kirishima Eijirou ; Omega!Izuku Midoriya ; Omega!Bakugo Katsuki ; Omega!Shoto Todoroki ; Omega!Kirishima Eijirou ; technically Beta!Reader ; afab!Reader ; modern Au ; post-UA ; Reader has a quirk ; non hero!Reader ; eventually smut

Also, reader is bisexual !

Working in a hospital was always exhausting. You never imagined yourself becoming a doctor; in fact, you never even dreamt of it. But with a healing quirk like yours, combined with the prestige and respect the profession brought, you felt pushed into it. It wasn’t so bad, though. Being a beta, you had an edge here. In a place where emotions ran high and pheromones flooded the air, you stayed grounded. While alphas and omegas could be thrown into chaos by the scent and pheromones around them, you kept your cool. It was one of the few perks of being a beta in a high-stress environment like this.

Today felt no different from the others as you made your way down the sterile hallway, heading for your next patient. Just as you were about to enter their room, the sound of hurried footsteps caught your attention. A group of paramedics rushed past you, wheeling a stretcher with a patient barely visible under layers of blankets.

The moment they passed, the air shifted. The doctor in charge, a tall, sharp-eyed alpha, started barking orders at the nurses, his voice cutting through the usual calmness of the hospital. You could tell by the urgency that this wasn’t just any patient. No, this had to be someone important. A pro-hero, maybe? It wouldn’t be the first time one of them was brought in after a brutal fight. For a moment, curiosity sparked inside you, and you wondered who they were. But duty called. You pushed open the door to your patient’s room, the soft click of the handle snapping you back into focus. Your professional demeanor slid into place like a well-worn mask.

"Good morning! How are you feeling today?"

The patient shifted under the thin sheet, eyes half-closed.

"Better, I think... Still sore, though," they murmured.

You nodded, already making mental notes.

“That’s to be expected. Let’s have a look at those vitals and see how you're doing.”

After finishing up with your patient, the day moved on with the usual requests and minor chaos of the hospital. It wasn’t long before Asuna, the cute omega nurse, approached you again, her brown eyes wide as she asked

“Please, Y/N, I really need to leave early today. I swear I’ll buy your lunch tomorrow.”

You couldn’t help but wonder why people always came to you for favors. It wasn’t like you had a particularly welcoming vibe, yet somehow, this was the third time she had asked you to cover her last round so she could head out early.

“Y/N, I promise, it’s the last time.”

Her wide brown eyes locked onto yours, and you knew she had you. It wasn’t the first time Asuna had asked for a favor, and you doubted it would be the last.

“Alright, Asuna, you’re a pain in the ass. This is the last time, though. I mean it,” you said, though your tone didn’t carry much conviction.

Her smile brightened, and with a quick, “Thank you, Doctor L/N!” she handed you her patient list and dashed off to the locker room.

You shook your head slightly, more amused than annoyed. People always seemed to assume you were an easy target for these things, but the truth was, you just didn’t care enough to make a big deal out of it. Besides, it was easier to say yes and get on with your day than to fight over it. Since she was assigned to the hero wing, you made your way there, your steps steady and automatic. The hero wing wasn’t all that different from the rest of the hospital, just quieter. The lighting was a bit softer, and the rooms offered a little more privacy, but beyond that, it was still a hospital—white walls, the faint scent of disinfectant in the air, and the steady hum of medical equipment. You made your way down the familiar hallway, passing a few closed doors until you reached the patient’s room at the end.

After a brief knock on the door with no response, you entered the room, heading straight for the bed. Their room was larger than most, with enough space to accommodate any necessary equipment, but otherwise, it was like every other patient room. The sunlight filtered through thin blue curtains, casting a dull glow over the room. You checked the vitals on instinct, your eyes drifting to the patient, and then froze when you realized who you were looking at pro-hero Shoto Todoroki.

Seeing him up close was something else. One of Japan’s most famous heroes, practically a celebrity, and here he was, fast asleep in front of you. His hair rested against his shoulders, the unusual coloring drawing your attention in a way you couldn’t quite explain. His features were sharp yet soft and refined, but it was the contrast in his appearance, much like an exotic bird, that caught your eye. There was something striking, captivating about the way he looked. He was just... pretty. There was no other way to describe it. Everything about him screamed "pretty boy." You were so captivated by the length of his lashes, thick and dark against his skin, that you didn’t even notice when his eyes opened and met yours.

The two of you stared at each other in silence for what felt like an eternity. You’d heard Shoto was on the quieter side, but this silence felt different, as if he were trying to figure out why a doctor had been watching him sleep. It was unprofessional—creepy, even—and you had no valid excuse for why you were still staring. The awkwardness of the moment built until it was unbearable, and just as you opened your mouth to apologize, you noticed something shift in his gaze.

There was something more beneath it now, something charged. His cheeks flushed, the soft pink blossoming across his skin like a dahlia. The color spread gradually, delicate at first but quickly deepening into a rich, vibrant hue. His wide eyes, one blue and one gray, darkened as his pupils expanded, a hazy look settling in them. As if he was suddenly hyperaware of every breath you took. The heart monitor’s consistent beeping suddenly picked up pace, the rhythm escalating without warning.

Instinctively, you reached out, your hand barely grazing his shoulder. His entire body trembled at the touch. It was immediate, his body responding to even the slightest touch.

Then, in a small, broken voice, he whispered.

“Alpha... please…”

You almost laughed at the absurdity of it, the words so out of place that they felt like a joke. But before you could react, a scent hit you, so strong and unexpected that it threatened to short-circuit your brain.

Alright, I did the first one. As always, I like criticism and I find them really helpful so don’t hesitate to tell me if something is weird or wrong about my writing !!

Big thank you to @cafekitsune who made the beautiful dividers !

Summary <- 01 -> 02

Taglist

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thoughtssvt · 6 months ago

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last call

nanami kento x reader

kento's just about lost the battle. you're all he can think about during his last moments

warnings : character death, minor gore (blood, limb loss), no happy ending, gn!reader (use of they/them pronouns), no use of y/n

Kento’s head felt heavy on his shoulders. His neck craning up to watch the midnight bubble consume everything within a five foot radius, including him. A few steps ahead, in the center of the curse’s domain, stood a telephone booth. Dusty with the environment, untouched for who knows how long. His eyelids drooped to cover tired, bloodshot eyes. A dulled clang rang through the air, unhelping to the shrill tones piercing his ears as his cleaver thudded against the dirt road.

He cringed at the feeling of his fingers disturbing his meticulously styled hair, congealing blood mixing with his hair wax. A sigh pulled his shoulders toward the floor. What were you doing now? He wondered. Using the reserves of his strength to flick his wrist to reveal his watch face came the image of you peeling your bag and outerwear off, throwing your keys into the dish that inhabited the small stand right by the front door.

Kento reached into his pocket to find his phone shattered. Not like he’d be able to reach anyone from inside the domain and though all alarms in his head told him not to, he wanted to know if you’d called. Texted to ask him when he’d be home.

He dragged his feet, kicking up dirt as he lugged his heavy legs toward the phonebooth. He wasn’t deluded enough to believe anything except the fact that he was walking right into the curse’s guaranteed hit. Though he’d faced death countless times, he himself couldn’t understand the longing he felt to pick up the phone. It was heavy in his hand. Grimey and definitely not something he’d choose to press up against his face.

But he always chose you.

“Kento?” Your voice came through as soon as he held the speaker against his ear. His shoulders sagged with relief, the knowledge of illusion not too far from him. He knew that, but if it was just for this moment he would pretend that nothing was wrong. “I was thinking of making your grandmother’s soup, are you almost home?”

He pressed his forehead against the edge of the small metal box that housed the phone and its mechanism, letting it dig into his skin as he rolled his head side to side following the curvature of his skull.

“I’d kill for a bowl of my grandmother’s soup.” Especially the way you made it. Maybe not how you made it. You’d listened intently to the instructions, always making an exact replica. It was more so that you were the one making it. “But I’m afraid I won’t be making it in time for dinner,” he gasped out as he began to accept his fate, the soft pitter-patter of blood oozing from his severed arm knocking above the ringing in his ears.

“You should tell the higher ups that no amount of money could keep you from your spouse.” He let out a pained sigh, knitting his ashen brows together. Your laugh like church bells on Christmas day.

“You’re right. I should’ve stopped taking all this damn OT a long time ago.” He sucked in a breath as he slumped against the wall, the glass crying at the sudden weight. Kento audibly swallowed, his mouth going dry as he began to reminisce. A side effect of dying, he supposes. “Do you remember all those years ago when we made our relationship official?” He clipped the phone between his shoulder and the side of his head, his now free hand coming up to punch at the bridge of his nose. He continued on letting the curse mimic your ambrosia laugh. “I tried to cut things off because I didn’t know how to handle a relationship with my line of work and you just always knew what to say.” He cleared his throat, his tears manifesting like molasses in his esophagus. “Just knocked some sense into me like you believed in us all along. It was like a punch to the gut.” He was beginning to babble, consciousness wavering.

He slowly slid down the glass wall, grunting on the way down, clutching his side. his broken ribs protested the movement.

“You deserve better.” He got out between stuttered breaths, staring up at the cobwebbed ceiling of the booth.

Your name fell from his lips. Slowly like he was savoring it. Tasting its sweetness one last time. Letting it linger on his tongue as long as he could.

“What would you do if you knew you were going to lose?”

The only thing the curse couldn’t copy was how much you loved him and that was apparent in the half-hearted exclamation it spouted dressed in your voice. The illusion was coming to an end, each piece crumbling, taken by the wind. He wanted more time, more strength. He wanted to tell you.

“I’m trapped in this curse’s domain. I’m almost certain this phone call is its last hit, Darling,” he said oh so desperately. “What do I do?”

Maybe the curse didn’t choose this life. Maybe it’s equally pained to be the recipient of countless last calls. Maybe it didn’t mean to hurt others. Kento wasn’t sure how sentient it was, but he appreciated the way it tried.

“I couldn’t tell you.” It responded to him, cold and emotionless. No longer trying to mimic you despite using your cadence.

“I know.” Kento nodded, heaving himself back onto his feet, distantly wishing he could dust himself off. With it’s lingering aftertaste he called your name once more. “I love you, darling.”

He screwed his eyes shut, picturing you in the back of his mind. Radiant as the day he met you.

“Kento… I love you, too.“

His lips wobbled into a frown as he tried his best to soak it in. End it in euphoria instead of regret. He took a moment to steady his breath. If he let himself his mind would fill with should haves. They'd urge his tears to slip down his cheeks. If he started he knew he wouldn't be able to stop. It was fine this way. He could accept that it wasn't in the cards for him to win. He couldn't fight anymore. He knocked the sound receiver against his forehead, gathering the courage to hang up.

“I’m not really them, you know.” The curse said quietly, almost child-like, right before Kento put the phone back on the receiver. It spoke as itself. Meek and curious. Exactly like Kento expected to be the manifestation of last calls. The negative emotions that came with saying goodbye. Saying one thing while thinking dozens of others that would never reach.

“I know,” He whispered. He knew his words would never reach you, but it was enough that he got to say it. Doubt never existed between the two of you. He knew you’d be alright and that you wouldn’t hold anything against him. Your love made him sure and that was enough for him.

“But if you are the one who’s to take my life I thank you for letting me hear their voice one last time.”

The phone hit the receiver with a trill. Kento took a second to smooth down whatever was left of his suit before turning around. He closed the door gently behind him, stepping out with closed eyes, keeping you on the forefront of his mind until the very end.

telephone dividers by @saradika-graphics

A/N : another soul crushing 2am post. just got back into writing (personal projects) and this is what I produce? :/

nanami x reader masterlist

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ceratedfish24 · 1 month ago

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Your takes on c!Scott and flower husbands have honestly been so refreshing that its reignited my old Hot Takes on c!Jimmy bc I detest the way people characterize him.

I feel like so many people portray Jimmy as this dejected downtrodden victim of bullying, which feeds into a narrative that Scott was cruel and abusive and awful or whatever, and tends to act like Jimmy doesn't have any agency ever. But IN REALITY??? Jimmy is not downtrodden and dejected and sad!!!!! In my opinion, Jimmy's defining character trait is his unshakable TENACITY! Ppl never want to admit that Jimmy is a little shit! That he acts out of spite, that his friends' teasing only tends to motivate him!! He *thrives* in environments that challenge him! AND to be so for real, he is a grown man with agency and decision-making skills and I'm tired of people acting like he isn't.

In general I feel like people just have the wrong outlook on him as a character. Maybe they've just collectively misunderstood him, or a Helpless Miserable Victim is easier to write about in fic, or they just want to project their own bullying-related trauma onto him or whatever. (People do similar things to Scar when talking about desert duo, which I understand even less). IDK. These are just my thoughtssssss sorry for rambling :P

No because you’re literally so real for this. Jimmy is SUCH a little shit. His response to Joel being mad at Jimmy for trying to kill him was to SHAKE HIS ASS AT JOEL. He taunted Joel because Jimmy successfully used Lizzie to bait Joel out. He tried to guilt trip Scott into giving him time. These aren’t negative qualities. This is a guy being silly with his friends. Embrace them when writing c!Jimmy. These are wonderful and realistic qualities.

Jimmy’s tenacity is so remarkable. He gets knocked down and all of his friends tease him about it, and he stands right back up with pep in his step. A lot of people treat Pearl the same way. Like, guys, these people are adults who make their own choices, and, often times, people who are given free will are not going to make the responsible choice most of the time when there are no real world consequences to their actions other than maybe “I might not get to be in the finale of this Minecraft series”.

There is SO much favoritism in the Life Series. Jimmy and Pearl are always reduced to their greatest tragedies, while Scott and Cleo are reduced to their most selfish moments, even though everyone else is equally selfish because IT IS A DEATH GAME. IT IS A COMPETITION. THAT IS THE POINT.

A lot of Jimmy’s deaths tend to be his own doing. Whether he unnecessarily made an enemy or just wasn’t being careful, a lot of Jimmy’s deaths are his fault, and that’s fine. He likes to play into bits. He’s not that serious about winning as opposed to making fun content. Pearl has made her fair share of mistakes and enemies, and that adds plot and drama to her content. That’s how she plays it, and it’s fine! Don’t infantilize them for dealing with the consequences of their actions just like everybody else!

Scott was widowed, and he had to watch his allies die before he did for seasons. Nobody ever comforts him about it. Nobody says “oh this man is so sad he’s just doing his best but he can’t keep his friends alive and it’s eating him up and everyone should baby him”.

Nobody even calls Joel toxic for constantly targeting Scott, but somehow Scott is toxic for teasing Jimmy now and then? (Which is not to say that Joel is toxic. He just finds it fun to target his good friend and knows where Scott’s limits are. It’s actually a sign of how close they are in real life). Nobody calls Etho and Bdubs toxic for being so mean to each other. Nobody calls Impulse manipulative when his whole thing in Third Life was betraying people. Nobody says Ren is controlling for taking the lead in Dogwarts or calling the Renwood Mound the Ren Mound. Scar is a liar and a scammer and no one thinks less of him for it.

Do you wanna know why? Because they’re friends having fun. Scott and Scott’s character should be treated with that same respect given to everyone else. Also, people need to keep in mind that Scott is not actively playing a character. Scott is just playing the game the way that cc!Scott wants to play the game, so any in depth analysis of Scott’s “character”? That’s an over analysis of cc!Scott in a competitive environment, and that man is literally on this site, people. He knows about Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss, Girldad. I’ve seen him reply to analysis posts on why Scott is manipulative. He’s literally just a guy playing a game for fun.

Imagine if someone accused you of playing an evil and selfish character because you asked your friend to give you the monopoly money they owe you. Or, worse imagine if someone accused you of playing a manipulative character because you let your friend land on your monopoly property without paying you????? Because you love your friend??????? Like, excuse me????????

Thank you for the ask!!!!!! 🩵🩵🩵 It’s always flattering when someone calls my posts “refreshing”💕💕💕(also I see you all the time and I love seeing your additions to my posts💖)

#trafficblr #jimmy solidarity #pearlescentmoon #smajor #scott smajor

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literatureloverx · 5 months ago

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i cant stop reading all your stuff on fedya UGH its so good im turning ill

anywhooo i know you said that he would like someone whos always more obedient to him and super gentle and very demure, but would fyodor make any exceptions? falling in love seems like one of the only things that he cant really plan out 100% so what do you think hed do if the person he liked ended up being the complete opposite? or maybe what are the dealbreakers for him?

I’m so glad to hear that (I’m giggling and kicking my feet) ❤️ you’re so sweet!!!

I have mixed your request into a full character analysis on Fyodor and potential darling explanation.

My reason for doing this is that Fyodor is such a deep and multifaceted character that I can’t just go from A to B. I need to explain things in detail so that it all makes sense in the end.

Dealbreaker headcanons are under the text, I hope you’re enjoying it, even though it isn’t exactly what you wanted, but it is incorporated into the post! ❤️

Fyodor’s character & darling analysis

Although I’m fully aware that being 100% objective is practically impossible, I’m obsessed with being as objective as possible. In my understanding of Fyodor’s character (without bias towards any particular personality type, therefore objective in my opinion), the way I wrote his darling made the most logical sense to me.

However, a darling must serve a purpose in order to be relevant. As we all know, Asagiri is not big on romance, which leaves much room for speculation about the type of darling each character would end up with. In my view, the only way for Fyodor to fall in love is through deep genuineness and love towards his true self. Perhaps even a love so immense that it overwhelms and frustrates him.

In my interpretation, it’s not really possible for him to fall in love with the exact opposite type of the ideal darling I depicted. Let me explain why I think that is:

The opposite type of ideal darling would likely be more extroverted, expressive, confident, brazen, and bold. The problem here is that Fyodor’s environment is filled with serenity and peacefulness. He plays the cello and spends time reading. He’d love a darling whose nature he can appreciate. If his darling has similar interests, he’d have the time he needs for himself and for executing his plans.

He is not someone who appreciates a bit of chaos, unlike Dazai, for example. Instead, he is uncomfortable with it. Obviously, his ultimate goal is to ensure harmony and peace for all humanity. His darling should match his mood and personality, making him feel comfortable and loved. There are certainly characters who’d love a TRUE opposite personality darling, but I don’t believe Fyodor to be one of them. He is too old and too dominant a character to like that.

To understand why he wouldn’t fall for just any type of darling, we need to look at the biological anthropology of romantic love: This is a brain system, like the fear or anger system, which can be triggered instantly. The aspects that need to be fulfilled are:

1. The person (in this case, Fyodor) must be ready for it. Dr. Helen Fisher, a biological anthropologist, calls it a “Love Map.” This “Love Map” is an unconscious and conscious list (which I would say, in Fyodor’s case, is more unconscious) of what one looks for in a romantic partner.

2. When the person is ready to fall in love and meets the darling, and the darling fits within the “Love Map,” even a small positive interaction can trigger the brain circuitry, leading to romantic love.

It is more of a biological process than a truly loving and accepting one, as those criteria come into play later, in what is called “Attachment,” the other brain system.

Considering these facts, I carefully created a darling that I think, based on Fyodor’s personality and Asagiri’s explanations, would fit into his potential “Love Map.”

Let’s look at what Asagiri said about Fyodor: When asked what Fyodor would like about his darling, Asagiri said “someone with a good complexion.”

This underlines the outer beauty of his potential lover, as I depicted in my “ideal type” headcanons.

In the BSD guidebooks, BSD characters’ ideal types were listed. For Fyodor, it says “Loves all humanity equally.”

This suggests he has no interest in love at all. He takes a position above human beings, as he is somehow an immortal, dehumanized being.

He has lived for so long and never truly connected because he’s never living in the moment to form those connections. He thinks far ahead and concludes that even if he had a meaningful connection, it wouldn’t last. So there is no point in seeking it out.

He is far superior to anyone anyway. It’s easier for him to be alone. But does he truly like it this way? We don’t know. I imagine it to be draining and very dehumanizing. It must be difficult, even for him.

He wants to save humanity and cleanse them of all their sins. He loves humanity from afar without being an active part of it. Why?

In my interpretation, because it is all he can do. He is not like them. He is so different. He is such a deep character that I’d guess he is afraid of potential feelings, as his love would be as deep as his character. This would hurt once he loses the object of his affection.

Then there is the interview of Asagiri about white day (in western culture Valentines Day). It was an interview where it was discussed what certain characters would buy their darlings on this special day. Asagiri’s answer for Fyodor was: “Probably a whole country.”

This depicts perfectly what a generous but almost uncharacteristically illogical of a romantic partner Fyodor could be. Gifting his darling an entire country? This is insane, but shows how deep his love would be, if he ever loved someone. This underlines my points of him being afraid of emotional vulnerability.

In conclusion, his main drive to do all the things he does is to save and do good. That makes him more of an anti-hero rather than a villain.

He is morally grey. He does horrible things, but for the greater good—not for himself or a mere ideal, but for all humanity.

He is a genius, and his mind was gifted to him by God. How could he not use it for the creations of God?

Fyodor also has an artistic side, as he canonically plays the cello. Art is rarely expressed extrovertedly, even if it depicts violent or passionate deliveries and interpretations. You won’t see art in a disco, bar, or amusement park.

You will see art in museums, theaters, operas, and soulful performances. Someone who doesn’t enjoy those things won’t understand Fyodor’s mentality and won’t be able to challenge him mentally, which I believe to be a huge dealbreaker.

We only see Fyodor in quiet and peaceful places. He is mostly alone. Plus, we know he is very old. He’s been alone for ages. A bubbly darling would pierce through this comfort.

I can imagine him liking it initially because it is amusing, but I can clearly see him choosing a bubbly introverted woman over a bubbly bold woman anytime.

He doesn’t like boldness in women, I imagine, because he himself is very kind, even though his intentions mostly aren’t towards certain individuals.

His way of speaking is very polite, and he has exceptional manners. His darling would need to match that energy because Fyodor sometimes views people as “beneath him,” as petty human beings who can’t control themselves and are manipulated into things they don’t want.

I quote: “Thinking is a crime. Breathing is a crime. Now he has been freed from all of that.”

Another quote: “People honestly, simply, wrongly assume ‘I thought so myself.’ The trust that there is value in the wiretap and the clock he discovered himself, he did not think his thoughts were being manipulated.”

He doesn’t seem to dislike confident people in general, as there was no subjective negative feeling on Fyodor’s part towards a very competent and confident person like Ace, but he belittles them in an ‘objective’ manner.

Regarding kindness: Someone who is not polite and kind (in this case, able to control themselves in tough situations because remaining kind and polite in such situations is very difficult) is someone who can’t control themselves at all. This is how I imagine his way of thinking.

In conclusion, his darling needs to be someone who matches his otherworldly nature by matching his energy in general, challenging him mentally, but also grounding him in his own humanity by being loving, understanding, and affectionate.

Dealbreaker headcanons

Fyodor craves stimulating conversations. A partner who can’t match his intellectual prowess would leave him feeling unfulfilled and bored.

He has a deep appreciation for beauty and art. A partner indifferent to the finer things in life would clash with his cultivated tastes.

Fyodor values control and composure. A partner prone to emotional outbursts would disrupt his serene world.

Silence is sacred to him. A partner who can’t appreciate quiet moments would jar his need for peace and reflection.

Fyodor navigates the grey areas of morality. A partner who sees only black and white would struggle to understand his complex nature.

Fyodor yearns for depth. A partner who engages only in trivial talk would fail to captivate his mind.

Grace and elegance appeal to Fyodor. A partner who is physically expressive would be a jarring presence in his refined life.

Fyodor's worldview is tinged with realism. A partner who is naively optimistic would clash with his perspective on life.

He cherishes tranquility. A partner who is loud and boisterous would disrupt his peaceful environment.

Fyodor meticulously plans his every move. A partner who is spontaneous and carefree would be a source of constant frustration.

Strategic thinking is his forte. A partner who acts without thinking would threaten his carefully laid plans.

Fyodor treasures his alone time. A partner who constantly demands his attention and / or his time would suffocate his need for personal space.

If this kind of partner were indeed present in his life, they would eventually grow apart. Fyodor would be aware that this would happen someday because they wouldn't have much in common as partners, leaving only their shared love to hold them together.

#bsd fyodor #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #fyodor x you #yandere bsd #bsd #yandere fyodor #yandere #bungo stray dogs #bsd analysis #analysis

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lockheed-martin-unofficial · 3 months ago

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Thinking about Altmodes.

The fact that cybertronians even have the ability to “scan” vehicles (created by other alien species) tells me that they’ve always not only been aware of other intelligent species, but also possibly interacted with them. They were designed to interact with them that way, assuming scanning was an ability Primus gave them and not an extra gadget they added into their frames afterwards (Which is also an interesting concept) But maybe that interaction only went one way.

Taking the catchphrase Robots In Disguise™️ seriously, it is easy to imagine cybertronians being a horror story for other species. Aliens that hide in plain sight, lying in wait. Indistinguishable from the very vehicles you use to travel around. Would you trust your car, be sure it wasn’t replaced? Cybertronians would be TERRIFYING if they wanted to conquer your planet from the shadows.

On another note, I like to imagine there’s More Than Meets The Eye™️ to scanning altmodes. It’s not just to hide. Take TFP for an example. Neither Airachnid nor Dreadwing/Skyquake transformed before scanning an altmode even though they were in situations where doing so would have greatly helped them. This was probably an animation thing, the people making the show not having the time and budget to design two seperate altmodes for the characters.

However, if we read into it, I think it’d make sense that the true reason they scan earth-based altmodes is that their cybertronian altmodes are not fully compatible with earth. Or at least they don’t know how compatible they would be so instead of risking they wait to scan an earth-based form. Especially when it comes to flyers. The atmosphere, the gases in it, the gravity, all work a whole lot differently on other planets. It’s more advantageous to become something that was built to maneuver on this planet, than trying your chances with your cybertronian altmode and seeing how it fares in this unfamiliar environment, while also in the middle of a battle.

The Autobots specifically mention to Wheeljack and Smokescreen that they needed an earth-based altmode for disguise purposes, so we know they could have probably transformed this entire time but simply chose not to out of convenience.

They would probably not be able to go back to their earth-based altmodes again without scanning if they reverted to their cybertronian ones, which is why they don’t when they go to Cybertron. I also imagine the process of un-scanning an altmode (dunno what else to call that) would take a while, so if it ain’t broke don’t fix it.

In episode where Arcee and Jack go to Cybertron, she’s gonna come back in a few hours so why would she go through the trouble? In the movie, they don’t really have a reason/motivation to do so. The Autobots probably want a reminder of Earth, Decepticons like Shockwave and Megatron already have cybertronian altmodes. I don’t think we see Knockout transform but he’s always been very vocal about how pretty he is as a car so he probably kept his altmode as well.

That leaves only Starscream to be explained, and my personal headcanon is that he secretly grew to like human-made aircraft. Although it would’ve been cool to see him as a cybertronian jet in the movie, the movie scriptwriters didn’t really care about Starscream anyway.

In my AU the earthplane enjoyment is in part due to him bonding with Nicole and pitying all the trouble humans have to go through to achieve what comes to him naturally.

#transformers #transformers prime #tfp #cybertronian biology #transformers headcanons #tfp headcanons #altmodes #starscream #tfp starscream #but that’s just a theory #a transformers theory #there’s more than meets the eye #robots in disguise #I fuckin love the catchphrases

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homeofhousechickens · 1 month ago

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Arctic Eggs and CHICKENS ramble

There is a ton of themes and stuff and different interpretations going on in this game but Im going to just talk about the chickens an the stuff i noticed.

To start off, the chickens are modeled after a red sex link production hens a type of hen bred for egg production at the cost of their lifespan. Battery hens rarely make it past their second birthday. Im not sure if the devs chose this breed on purpose or if it was just what a generic chicken looked like in their mind. Maybe they chose this breed because a white chicken would be washed out in the arctic environment.

The game starts with the player looking at the chickens in the cages and it brings up a lot of questions. Why are there so many chickens? Why are we the player character here? After you walk through this poultry prison you are tasked with the job of a poultry prepper meaning you cook eggs. It doesn't matter how many eggs you drop there is always more to fall into your pan. Its interesting to me that there is a surplus of chickens and eggs but their is apparently a food shortage going on in the game.

I think the player character has much more in common with the battery hens then they realize. It doesn't matter though you are greeted with the first line in the game, "Can you fry eggs ontop of Mount Everest?" It seems like and irrelevant question and in a way it is.

This game is quick to show you that you have very little freedom, same with the people you are cooking for. A lot of people are hungry and its not really for food is it? You cook cigs, bullets, beer, sardine cans and cockroaches. Eggs are not the only thing on the menu.

As you play the game multiple people tell you they are caring for the chickens but they are worried about what happens to them when they get taken away. Many seem quite distraught that they aren't being told what is happening to them especially since eating poultry has been banned (but not eggs). Some people still think about eating the chickens but are quickly disgusted by it soon after. One person even said they all "taste like tomatos now"

We can almost see this worry about caring for something and having it be taken away paralleled to the robot prisoners and their cockroaches, one of them weeping over the roaches you cooked for them like they were their own children. We can assume people also get taken away in this game, we see the prisons and the discarded brain in the garbage after all. Maybe this isnt about losing the chickens or the roaches? Maybe the poeple raising the chickens wish to know if they are being eaten?

There is no privacy in this game, people squat over toilets full of feces in front of everyone and the prisoners do the same as the guards watch. It reminds me of the conditions of a chicken battery cage, cramped and full of feces. These people are living very similar lives to the chickens with little freedom to choose how they live.

After feeding the necessary amount of people you go and meet the Saint of Six Stomachs, the supposed ruler/dictator of this place. He is an amalgam of organs and.. chickens? To me It is implied 3 of his stomachs are hens. You see these trapped chickens right before you see his face. Perhaps this is why chickens are banned because the Saint is made up of chickens, maybe this is where the chickens who are taken away go. This part of the Saint's anatomy fascinates me. You go and cook the hens 6 eggs.

Afterwards you are met with the Saint's head eerily making eye contact from their glass container. After cooking his egg he asks "Can you fry eggs ontop of Mount Everest?" He says he never thought about it since it was irrelevant to him. He is right about that, how would someone in his situation even think about doing that, like you and the chickens he is trapped. Just like to the player character it is a nonsense question that is irrelevant.

The credits roll after you grasp the saints hand, you pilot some kind of fighter plane to a mountain where you have a serious crash landing. As you and your friend look over the wreckage (where you may have died in tbh) you ignore your objective of frying eggs since you abandoned your pan at the Saint's and climb the mountain finding a chicken out of her cage perched on a rock. Maybe the chicken is here because you need an egg or maybe she is here because she made the choice to be. It is quite likely the player character will die on the mountain or is already dead.

The game ends after you slowly reach out and pet the chicken.

This game is absurd and challenging. The surreal vibes can kind of make it easy to not take it seriously especially with all the silly dialog but there is something very special about this game and what it is saying. I think it really "gets" chickens as a symbol as well and it was nice to see a game really use them for its story.

#chicken #arctic eggs #indie games #its going to sit in my brain forever and ever #yes it is worth 10 bucks ffs #spoliers

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jarofstyles · 1 year ago

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Reaper 13

This is SUPER LONG and dirty but enjoyyy it for as long as it lasts hehe.

Check out our Patreon for early access and exclusive writing

Warnings- possessive behavior, aggression, threats, mention of murder, stalking, illegal acts we do not Condone, knife play, impact play (slapping x spanking), daddy kink if you squint, breeding kink mention, degradation, dom/sub dynamic, dumbification if you squint, choking, bondage w belt, hair pulling.... you get the gist everything is filthy as per usual

WC- 11.3k

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Tourist attractions really weren’t Harry’s thing, especially in his own city. He thought it was all a bit underwhelming, he’d rather look at a photo and be over it. He never thought he’d ever step foot in the Victoria and Albert Museum, Kensington was no place for someone like him. Yet there he was, watching his own work of art, Bunny, read the plaques by each painting.

The way her eyes lit up this morning when he told her they’d do whatever she wanted, he didn’t have it in himself to say no. So he let her drag him along to all the sites, even going as far as taking photos with her. If she were anyone else, he would tell her to stuff it- but that smile made it worth every moment of internal suffering.

“I’m getting hungry,” Bunny whispered to him, wanting to be respectful of the environment. Her arm had snaked its way under his, her hand curling around his bicep for comfort.

Harry chuckled when he felt her squeeze at the muscle, mindlessly going to place a kiss on the top of her head. The mindless affection had become more and more common. “You okay to head back towards the hotel? The options around here are a bit shit.” Harry continued in a hushed tone, guiding the two of them towards the stairs to begin exiting. “Plus, there are a bunch of pubs back that way… can get you some of that authentic food to try.”

“Authentic food?” She raised a brow. “You mean beans on toast? Egg in the hole?” There was teasing in her tone, a giant grin on her face as he looked down at her. She was taunting him, but it was good to see her really fucking smile after these last few weeks.

A scoff sounded from his throat, eyes rolling as they continued. “Lucky you’re cute. Or I’d toss your ass into the Thames, and that is particularly unpleasant.” He retorted, lightly pinching her side to make her squeak.

“Oi! Precious cargo here.” Her hip bumped into his as they walked, looking at her fake wedding ring. Although it wasn’t real, seeing it and what it represented made her stomach flutter. Would that be a possibility? Would he ever actually propose? What ring would he actually choose? He’d probably do it somewhere very private and secret, just the two of them. Shaking herself out of that thought, she continued. “What I was saying was, yes. I’m happy to head back. Your arm must be tired from holding all of my stuff.”

It wasn’t too bad. A few bags with the very tacky and overpriced London swag, things he knew she would probably stick on a shelf and not use- but part of him felt some sort of happiness that she liked it enough to buy souvenirs. “S’fine, darling. Snow globes and tee shirts and magnets are surprisingly lightweight.”

“Right, so you don’t mind if I drag us into the gift shop?” Bunny teased and squeezed his arm, tripping over her feet a bit as she leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek.

Harry had never thought he’d experience this type of relationship. It almost felt juvenile with how they clung to one another and got shy at each other's teasing ocassionally. It felt so out of character for him, but then again, it came naturally with her. He thought, if his life had been different, that maybe that’s how he was meant to be.

“Thought you said you were hungry?”

———

Pubs were a quintessential part of the British experience. You could go just about anywhere in the UK and there would always be a pub to welcome you in. Sure, the decor was a bit outdated, but Harry always thought it made them more charming. No two pubs were exactly alike. Some had different stools.

“What do you fancy? Fish and chips? Bangers and Mash? Gonna take you for a roast at the weekend.” Harry’s speech had already adjusted, his accent thicker than she’d ever heard it before. It made Bunny smile fondly, she’d never seen him in a mood like this and she was cherishing every second.

“Fancy, huh? You’re sounding incredibly British today, Mr.Davidson.” She winked, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and looping them as they settled at the end of the bar. The mood was just so good today, and she was relishing it.

“Fancy, yes. Like I fancy you.” His voice was quiet, a tiny smirk on the corner of his lips as she felt her heart stutter in her chest. His hands came to hold her hips, cuffing them with his cool skin and making her shiver. Her outfit wasn’t particularly thick- which was why she had stopped to buy the coat she’d hung up when they walked in. If someone stole it, oh well. It was pretty cheap.

“You do?” She peered at him through her lashes, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Gonna make me blush. Look at you, flirty man.” Harry had been exceptionally affectionate today and it had almost taken her off guard. Like he could finally let go a bit and give her the proper boyfriend treatment, loved treatment, whatever it was called. It made her all fuzzy and hot in her stomach.

“Good. Like making y’shy.” He tugged at the ends of her hair. “Soon as a table opens up we can sit down and properly eat.” But he didn’t mind standing here. He soaked in every second of her leaning into him, playing like a proper couple on a ‘honeymoon’. He liked the feeling of the ring on that finger.

Bunny nodded along, letting her eyes wander around the dimly lit space. The place wasn’t too packed, though as the clouds drew in it seemed everyone was looking for shelter.

“Y/N? No fucking way.” A familiar voice interrupted Bunny from her train of thought. Her head snapped in the direction the voice was coming from, swallowing thickly. Fuck. Not here- not now.

“Ian?” She hadn’t seen him in years, not since he moved away for college. She had been so devastated back then. Sterling’s departure had taken a toll on her and well, Ian wasn’t man enough to tell her he too would be leaving her.

“Are you stalking me?” He joked, taking a step towards her. It seemed as though he hadn’t noticed just who she was there with.

Harry was quick to place himself between them.

Who the fuck is this? And why the fuck did he know Bunny? His jaw clenched so hard he was surprised his teeth didn’t crack, feeling fingers gently pressing against his arm as he looked down at the shorter man.

Was this some sort of sick joke?

“Who the fuck are you?” His words were cold, his molten relaxed nature from before cooling quickly before shattering like glass on the pavement. His eyes were sharp and hard as he looked down, feeling her peek over his arm and try and move closer but he extended it to keep her behind him.

Whoever the fuck this Ian was, he was in London. A place where she knew no one. The world couldn’t possibly be that small, and he was on edge all over again. “Are you following her?”

Oh god. Bunny stepped forward, clutching Harry’s arm in her grasp to try and chill him out. It looked bad, it definitely looked bad and she could understand his irritation, but-

“H, it’s okay-“

“No. It isn’t.” His harsh tone stung his own ears as he approached further, eyes zeroed in on him. “I’ll ask again, How the fuck did you find her here?”

“Find her?” Ian looked like he had seen a ghost. He had remembered Reaper, very very well. How could he forget all the times he’d come over and he’d be outside working on his bike? The death stare he gave was enough to have him rushing inside without turning back. He was aware of the reputation Reaper held, to say Ian was scared was an understatement.

“Dude, I swear I wasn’t trying to make any moves, just surprised she’s here— I live here man.” Ian was in a rush to finish his sentences, attempting to clear the lump forming his throat.

“Baby, you know that, remember? I was dating him before Sterling left.” Bunny peeped up from behind him, her heart beating out of her chest. The last thing she needed was for Harry to cause a scene when they were trying to lay low. While the coincidence was shocking, she knew full well Ian was too stupid to pull off what her stalker was pulling.

“Where?” Harry barked, preparing to grill the man for all he was worth. If he couldn’t tell him a way a Londoner would understand, he was worried he would do his head in right here on the bar. His stomach had already been turning at the mere mention of him dating her before, but the thought of being face to face with someone who could possibly be part of this ongoing torture of his girl? He was seething.

“Canary Wharf, a few stops on the DLR. I’m not giving you my address, sicko.”

“Sicko?” He laughed without humor. “I’m not the one following girls around. How’d you know she’d be here?” He took a step closer, the hair on the back of his neck prickled as he tried to scan the man’s face for any hint of lying.

He was scared shitless, as he should be, but Harry was thrown right back into the paranoia that he usually felt back home. The hesitation and distrust of anyone who got around her. How perfect would it be for her obsessive ex to be the one following her around?

“I didn’t! I swear I didn’t, bro. I’m just as surprised as she is- t-tell him, Y/N. Please!” He was backing up slightly as Harry took another step forward, making her grab his arm and try and tug him back.

“H- Hey.” She gently dragged her fingers down his arm. “Please. It’s okay. He’s been here for a while, he left a while back. I didn’t know where he was moving to.” Trying to diffuse the situation was unnerving. She’d seen Harry get like this a few times, but she didn’t want to make a scene here. “Look at me, please. He’s not the person you think.” Meaning her stalker. She could see the cogs turning in his mind, the nervousness from how he worked his jaw, how his other hand had slipped behind him to have a hand on his gun if he needed it. They couldn’t afford to have that happen in such a public place, but it was well known that Harry, when he was Reaper mindset, didn’t care. He would take out a threat and deal with the consequences. As much as it warmed her that he was that dedicated to her safety, it wasn’t any good if he went down for taking out the wrong guy.

“Babe.” Her stern tone cut through the tension, her hand moving to squeeze over his hand tightly. This couldn’t happen. Bunny’s heart was beating out of her chest, looking between the two of them as she tried to figure out what her next move was. “Ian, you remember Harry yeah?” She began, her fingers rubbing gentle circles over the wedding band on her boyfriend’s hand. It would be hard to explain it to Ian, so she figured it was best to keep them hidden. “He brought me here to London to show me around, we’ve been together for a while now so it felt like a good time to see where he came from.”

Harry was still sizing Ian up, chest heaving slightly. Focusing on the sound of Bunny’s voice, he could still hear the faint sound of blood pumping in his ears. This guy was harmless, she had ruled him out but Harry’s brain was still on high alert.

“Anyways, we were just leaving,” Harry interjected, no longer wishing to be in this idiot's presence. He needed to be back in a safe space with his Bunny.

“We don’t have to-“

“I just remembered our reservation. Let’s go.” The tone of his voice had taken her off guard, unfamiliar with the sweet one he usually held specifically for her, but she would let it go despite how it stung under her skin. He was wound up and nervous, and he had just had a scare in the one place he had seemed to key his guard down. She had to remember that. He had just been knocked over, metaphorically speaking.

“You don’t have to run off,” Ian said with a laugh, feeling a bit bolder and wanting to reclaim that stupid masculinity he had felt was stripped of him from the interaction. “I’m not going to try and steal her-“

Before he could finish, his shirt was fisted in Harry’s hand, his body whipped around and pressed to the bar as the cocky look on his face faded to fear. His eyes were dark and cold, though the anger was simmering under the surface of his skin.

“You can’t have her. She isn’t an item to be stolen. I’ve heard about your puny cock and the lack of care you’ve given my girl. Bold of you to assume she’s mentioned more than her dissatisfaction over you.” He did indeed remember this dickhead. It made him want to drag him to the back alley and use the silencer on his gun to take him out. But he was in public. So threats would have to do. “If you breathe a word of her being here, if you try to contact her, if you even look at her again tonight, I will end you. Make your life a living hell, and end it with your body sunk in the Thames.” His words were quiet, but so matter of fact that Bunny’s eyes widened. The pub noises would filter out anyone else hearing, but she could.

“I know the people from the deepest depths of the underground here. One fucking call and I’ll have your entire flat ruined, your bank account drained, and your body strung up in an abandoned building before they dispose of you. So heed this warning very, very carefully.” He got closer. “You’ll stay here, order a pint, and forget that this night and my woman has ever existed. If I hear a word of this breathed out -and I will- I’ll make good on my phone call.” Eyes traced him in disgust. “And you won’t make very good fish food, either.”

Finally, he dropped the guy and pulled Bunny with him, trying to be mindful of how hard he pulled so her shorter legs wouldn’t make her fall. But he was livid. Angry, his face blank and nostrils flared as he grits his teeth.

She decided to stay silent, following him and wrapping her arm around his, their connected fingers an anchor for the both of them. “I’m sorry.” Her voice peeped, looking up at him. “I-didn’t know he would be there. I swear I haven’t known anything since he moved.”

He froze. Why was she apologizing?

Harry could hear the sound of his teeth grinding, though it seemed he felt no pain. His focus was purely on getting her back to the hotel as safely and quietly as possible. Stupid fucking idiot had to choose this pub of all pubs in London to walk into and ruin the perfect end to the day for his perfect girl.

“S’ fine, Bun.” Harry tried his best to reassure her, though his breathing was still heavy and his mind was still racing. He was on high alert as he guided the two of them through the busy crowd of Leicester Square, no one paid much attention to them there. Only one more turn and they’d be safe in the street right by their hotel.

Bunny wasn’t sure what she was expecting as they entered the hotel and made their way up. She chose to stay quiet, her arms wiggling their way around his waist as her head rested against his chest in an attempt to soothe them both. His heart was pounding, though his muscles were noticeably less tense than they had been at the pub.

She didn’t think she’d be able to eat much now, her main concern was tending to Harry. It’d been a good while since he’d snapped back into his protective state, they’d worked so hard to get him to actually relax on this trip. She had been worried it was all for nothing.

“Talk to me.” She murmured as they entered the safety of their room, the sound of Harry double-checking the locks behind them had her eyes squeezing shut. She wished he didn’t have to go through this. If only they didn’t go to that pub.

His throat bobbed as he scanned the room again, only broken out of the trance when her hands gently grabbed his face, cradling his jaw. All she did was gentle. She treated him with a softness no one else ever had, one that he had never even thought of himself being able to have.

There was a moment he stood without a word, looking down at him as he tried to gather himself. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her or make her feel neglected like he had the time before, but it was really fucking hard to do that. His body was taught, tense and he held back tremors of both rage and fear. It was a false alarm, sure, but he had felt all the feelings he imagined surfacing from finding the son of a bitch stalker. His uneven breathing filled the room as she continued to try and soothe him, her soft and concerned gaze killing him. How the fuck was she being so good with him even after what he had done? How he had shut down?

“I was terrified.” He admitted into the silence of the room. “That it was him. I’m still not convinced he isn’t involved. I was letting myself get too relaxed. You’re in danger.” He stressed, head tilting back as he ran his hands over his face. There was obvious regret and self anger in his tone, breaking her heart just a bit more. “I was selfish for not letting my head be on a swivel. I could never forgive myself if I let you get hurt. Ever.” Hs hands peeled off his cheeks so he could look at her, the seriousness of his words bleeding through.

“I promised to protect you. Not only to your father, to your brother- but to myself. This whole thing, you and I? It isn't just sex to me, Bunny. You’re- you’re mine. In every fucking sense of the word. The one person that means anything to me and if I fuck up because I want to- I want to be selfish and just let go? I’d die. If you hurt, I hurt. I can’t ever let it happen.” He felt the intensity in his stomach rise, the feelings he had been trying to keep in check boiling over in the pot. Frothing over the edges, he couldn’t stop himself from falling for her, no matter how many times he had stirred and tried to keep the overflow at bay.

“You mean the most to me. I’ve never cared this much about a person. I felt so much rage… not only at him but at myself. I’m so angry.” He growled. “He looked at you. He touched your arm. How much fucking clearer does it have to be?” Slowly backing her up, Bunny trusting him as her back bumped against the door and her head tipped up to look up at him. Her angry knight. So passionate about protecting her. “Do I have to get you a sign to tell people you’re mine? That I’m yours and I will rip their hearts from their chest, I will slice off any finger that touches you?” His eyes blazed, Harry’s discomfort obvious. He meant every word. AS gruesome as he could be, she hadn’t seen the whole of it yet. This girl got to see the good parts of him and he was convinced that she would be the only one they were reserved for.

Bunny’s eyes searched his, trying to find some kind of sign. Sure, his emotions were on high, but he meant each word he was saying. She could feel it— never once did his words falter, his gaze never leaving hers as his fingertips delicately began to push her jacket off of her shoulders.

“Say something.” Harry breathed, his eyes too scanning hers in an attempt to anchor himself in the moment. When he was with her nothing else mattered, he didn’t have to be anyone he wasn’t. With her he was free. “I mean every word—“

“I know.” Bunny’s voice had been so quiet she wasn’t even sure if he heard it. The words she had wanted to say were hiding just under her breath, if only she felt brave she would tell him. Profess that she loved him and that she trusted him more than anyone else in this world. “I keep thinking,” She started, her sentence interrupted by the thump of her jacket falling on the floor. “You’re the only one I’d want to be here with. The only one I want…” Her words trailed off with a soft moan. God, she was sick.

Cold fingertips dragged up along her arm, Harry’s other hand finding the warmth of her lower back just under her top. He really couldn’t help himself, she was the only thing that could get him to relax.

His stomach heated with a different sort of passion. A flick of a candle, a switch of a blade, a single moan. Her soft body melted into his own as her eyes bore into his own, that calming energy sinking into his skin and melding into arousal that he couldn’t help. She was aroused by this?

Yes. She was. The woman was affected by his words, by his protective nature. Even as deprived and awful, inhumane as his version of justice could be perceived as, she was excited by it. Flattered. His face got closer to hers, bracing with his arm against the door.

“I mean it.” His words were a shaky exhale. “I mean every fucking word.” His hands slipped further under the fabric, her hot skin melting his icy interiors yet again. “Anyone touches you… anyone even thinks about stroking this perfect skin… tasting your mouth…. Harming a single hair on your head. I’d end them.” He pressed closer, fingers finding the nape of her neck. “I’d kill for you, baby. D’you know that?” Harry doubted that she would ever actually know the full extent of what he would do for her. How close she had him to being on his knees at her wish.

She nodded, their noses brushing together. Harry smiled, not a normal one but what she could consider almost feral. Hot. Her thighs trembled as she couldn’t recall anyone else who had been able to gain such a reaction from her body. Their interactions were always something she felt fully, but his intensity was ringing in her ears, throbbing through her body. There wasn’t a shadow of a doubt that he would.

“I almost did tonight. I meant every word. And I’ll do the same back in Vegas. I’ll find who is tracking you… I’ll send them to meet Hades myself. And then… then I’m going to take you on a proper vacation. I’m going to take you to a beach and fuck you on the sand, I’m going to fuck you on my bike, I’m going to do everything you deserve. I know I don’t deserve you. But I’m a selfish son of a bitch, Bunny. I’m mean, I fight, I do illegal shit, I’ve got blood on my hands and targets on my back, but I’m keeping you anyway.” Their breathing mingled as he tried to control himself but it was slipping.

His lips pressed against hers hard, feeling her fists on his shirt to pull him closer. It was no use.

“I will burn the entire fucking city down to make sure you’re safe. I’ve never been afraid of anything. Death, fire, pain. But I’m fucking terrified of losing you.”

Time stood still as the two of them stood barely a step into their hotel room. Harry cradled her with his arm, unable to get enough of his skin on her own. Her shivers only drove him all the more insane, he was hypnotized by the feeling she brought him, the comfort of her existence was something he felt himself continuously getting drunk on. He didn’t want to stop himself, he couldn’t. Not when every moment felt like it could be their very last.

“I’m not going anywhere, Harry. I’ll always find you.” Bunny knew there was very little could do, but on the off chance that this fucker managed to find her she would leave as many clues for Harry as she possibly could. No way would she let some monster get in the way of this beautiful blossoming relationship. “Even if it hurts me.” She whispered, eyes flickering down to his lips. She was hungry to taste them again, it was the perfect remedy for the comedown of shock. What if she wanted it to hurt?

“Please let go just for tonight… just take me how you want to.” She would do just about anything to get him back to a relaxed state again. This feral look on his face awakened something in her, he’d previously mentioned he’d been holding back. There was something about the dark breathy chuckle he let out that had her mind reeling. “I’m serious.” Bunny felt her heart rate picking up as he toyed with the delicate skin of her neck. “Please.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking.” He whispered, trying to keep that curated delicacy he had reserved for her at hand- but failing. Failing miserably.

“I do.” She whispered back, arching into him. “You’re upset. You want to prove that I’m yours?” There was danger in taunting him. The girl knew that. But she wanted him to break down, to give in to those urges again. The last time had been so, so good. She could still feel the slight ache but she wanted more. Greedy. She was so incredibly greedy for every lick and drop of affection, his real self she could get. Her hand reached for his, pulling it towards the front of her throat to collar it.

“Fuck me, Harry. Own me. Use my body, mark me, make everyone know.” She bleated, eyes wide for him. “Please?” Her lips pressed against his. “Please, please, please. Just for tonight- make me ache. You know my limits. Push them.”

“Baby, I don’t want to hurt you.” Harry breathed through his nose, trying so hard not to give in to her even though she was offering herself up on a silver platter. The feeling of his hand around her throat was something that’d felt natural, her kiss tempting him even more. She knew just how to get him to succumb to her desires but there was still that bit of fear.

Sure, the other night they dabbled into the territory. A few good slaps, her slipping into subspace. This, however, was a whole other beast. Harry could be truly sadistic, relentless in the way he fucked women. While his girl had proven to be the perfect slut for him, he still worried that he would lose himself. There would always be more caution in this because he cared about her, he adored her, her life meant something to him. It just made him worry a little about self control when she taunted him. Especially when he was in a mood like this. Where he knew he wouldn’t stop himself from absolutely ruining her.

“I want you to.” Bunny was confident that she could take it. The slaps yesterday were manageable, hot, even and with the right aftercare, she was positive there was nothing he could do that would truly hurt her. Harry in his feral state was terrifying, yes, but a thrill that made her sopping wet. She was the object of his desire, surely the aggression he would lay upon her would translate differently than it had with anyone before her.

“Want you to show me the real you… want to know what it’s like, I can handle it.” She had opened up for him so nicely, let him see her slip into the softest of spaces. She had hoped to see him enter his own headspace, one where they could interact together.

“God….” Harry rolled his head back on his shoulders, his erratic breathing amplified by her fingers pressing over his own, making him squeeze. It got his attention right away. Damn it all to hell. The woman had a road map to the paths to drive him wild the quickest, the buttons installed in the tips of her little fingers.

She moaned. The vibration of it stung his palm. She was serious. Her head rolling back on the door as she hated herself to him with her eyes fluttering at the feeling. She was showing him, taunting him, and Harry could feel the tether to his rational being fraying.

“You… can handle it?” His lips curled up in one of the most cruel little smirks she had ever seen. “The soft, sweet little slut can handle it? Just a bit of slapping has you slipping. You really think you can manage it? When I make a mess out of you?”

Her nod made him narrow his eyes, watching as she blinked up at him. Did she?

He tested the waters, gathering saliva under his tongue and spitting it right on her closed lips, getting a surprised gasp from her. A flinch. “Lick your lips. Clean it up.” He stood straighter, seeming to loom over her. She stood with wide eyes, looking like she was going to speak before he took his fingers from behind her and lightly smacked her cheek.

“I didn’t fucking ask you to speak. Did I?” Her head shook, a tiny whimper making him laugh before continuing on. “No, I didn’t. I know you get a little brainless when I touch you, all you can think about is cock… but I gave you instruction. Try again.” He hissed, feeling his cock throb at how quickly she let her tongue rub over her lips. Pink brushing over the glistening pair of lips wet with his spit, she slowly dragged the muscle over the pout.

“There we are. Pretty little pet does have some sense floating up there.” He cooed, thumbing the rest she couldn’t get over the rest of her chin and rubbing it into the skin.

There was a pause, his eyes softening for a moment as he checked in. “My messy baby. Are you sure you can handle it? Y’know I adore you.” He pressed a soft kiss to her wet mouth, a direct contrast to his previous actions. “You’re my girl but… I’m gonna be mean to you. You know how to get me to stop, yeah?” It had to be abundantly clear. There wouldn't be unnecessary risks of losing her trust.

Bunny nodded her head, not wanting to risk speaking and making him unnecessarily angry. Just one word, that’s all it would take for him to stop. She decided to take his word for it and behave while she was still grounded in reality, god knows what she’s getting herself into when she was drunk on him and his cock. He’d given her a taste of it last time, blown her expectations out of the water, but she was his greedy girl after all.

His actions had shaken her up just enough for wetness to start pooling in her panties. She loved seeing him in this state, it was so animalistic. He was only focused on one thing and that was pleasure— in this case, his own. She would happily give herself to him a million times over if this meant he could get it out of his system. If it was anything like before she knew she’d enjoy it.

He’d never been mean to her before, it would definitely be a new feeling. However, it was all in the name of sex. Sex makes you say all sorts of things, it’s part of its nature. It’s a connection people can’t properly put into words. Bunny was eager to explore their connection even further and prove their trust.

“That’s a good girl.” He sighed, stroking over her hair before wrapping it around his fist. “Come.”

There was no other option- but Y/N didn’t mind. She followed, relishing in the slight prickling pain on her scalp as he stayed true to his word and led her like a naughty pup over to the bed.

“You’re such a nice girl. It really is such a shock to me that you love acting like a depraved whore.” He said with a chuckle. “Y’know, I thought… the first time we saw each other again, you were so sweet looking. Grown up, not a little girl, but sweet. That big smile and sparkling pretty eyes, bouncing on your feet. And then, later in the night… you crawled up on my lap. Tried to tempt me, with your brother just feet away. That’s when I knew there had to be something with you. Something that made you dirty, just like me.”

He undid his belt with his free hand, the sound of the leather snapping out of the belt loops making her whimper. His start was intense, intently on her eyes as he released her hair. “Wrists in front of you.”

There was no second request. She did it quickly, letting herself feel the warm leather wrap snugly around her wrists and through them. There was a shot of jealousy when she realized she was not the only one he had done this to. No- Harry must have done this dozens of times because of how well he did it, but she kept her mouth shut as he secured her.

“There.” One last tug and she was secure enough to not escape, but easy enough for Harry to be able to undo it quickly. “What a fucking vision you are, darling. Look at you.” His voice aired out, walking in a circle around her. Reaching into his pocket, he steadied himself behind her. His nose brushed her neck, inhaling the scent of her. This was enough to get him drunk. The perfume, her soap, the scent that could only be her…. Biting down on the flesh in a nip to make her yelp.

“Too good. Too fucking good for me, and yet…. You let me do such filthy things to you. I wonder what everyone would think if they knew how eager you were to get my cock in your mouth. So quickly after we agreed I’d be your boyfriend… taunting me. Almost crying because I didn’t give you my cum. And now? Now you want it dripping down your thighs.”

There was a metallic slice in the air, Bunny stiffening as she felt cool metal brush her chest. The flag of his pocket knife. “If they knew you shivered in anticipation while having a knife held to you. You know how nasty you’ve got to be, darling?” He laughed, the heat of it making her shiver again. “Oh, that’s why you’re so perfect for me, little Bunny.”

She gasped as he sliced through the upper part of her top in a swift motion, using his hands to rip the rest off. “But what good is having a beautiful slut at my beck and call if she’s clothed?”

The anticipation was killing her, all her senses heightened. She’d been waiting for him to bring the knife out again, but the unexpected action had her feeling warm. There was something that washed over her, a feeling reminiscent of embarrassment but was much more pleasurable. Sitting there exposed to him, clothes cut, unable to move her hands. The danger of it all was too appealing, Harry played the part well. Though, he wasn’t playing at all.

Harry noticed her breathing pick up, the way her chest was heaving made his cock stir in his jeans. He let the blade of the knife trace down her denim-clad leg, teasing her with the sensation before the tip met the zipper. “I bet you’re soaked under these, my perfect whore. Always ready for me to stuff you.” He was debating cutting the jeans off of her but decided against it, using one hand to unbutton them and pull them down.

Harry wasted no time in slicing her panties off, a dark laugh leaving his lips at her gasp. “Always liked that move, hm? Filthy slut. Open.” He commanded, waiting for her jaw to drop down before stuffing her mouth full of her panties. “Don’t trust you to stay quiet so I think this will do.”

It was degrading, absolutely, but there was just something about the way Harry could make it feel good. The humiliation swam in her stomach pooling down to her cunt, the damp spot on the fabric pressed against her tongue.

“Tastes good, doesn’t it?” He ran the cold metal over her thighs, over her mound ever so carefully to get it wet before moving in front of her. His eyes were dark, tongue licking up the flat of the blade and groaning at the taste. “Yeah. You can see why I love being parked right between these gorgeous thighs. If you weren’t such a baby, you’d stop complaining about being over-sensitive and let me lick you up. But…” he tossed the knife to the side. “I think….” His hand pushed her to fall on the bed. “It’s time for a proper taste. I’ve got you gagged, bound… I can lick you up, and prepare you for my cock. How does that sound?” He turned his back towards her to the drawer beside the bed, where he had left the cleaned and unpackaged toys. “Oh, that’s right. Y’can’t reply.” The snarky reply somehow left her feeling a bit more hot. How did he manage that?

“Gonna make you so sensitive, and you’re just going to lay there and take it. You loved being my fucktoy last time, so let’s see.” Standing between her legs, he tugged her by the ankles toward the end of the bed while he ignored her muffled squeak. “Three kicks with your foot if it’s too much. Otherwise? Don’t complain.” Establishing a safe system was imperative regardless of verbal ability.

Bunny felt her cunt throbbing but resisted the urge to squeeze her thighs together. It wouldn’t do her any good, not when Harry was standing there looking down at her cunt as if it was his first and last meal all at once. He took his sweet time, picking up one of her legs so he could kiss and bite his way down to her core. He loved the way she reacted to him, her sensitivity made him crave her that much more. Her scent had him forgetting what he had initially planned to do, eyes zeroing in on her puffy slick folds. Harry’s hands gripped around her thighs, lowering himself till he was kneeling on the floor.

With the panties gagging her, Bunny assumed her moans would be silenced. Instead, she was met with muffled sounds that only elevated the feeling of Harry’s tongue lapping her up. It was an erotic blend, the sound of slurping and sucking making her legs twitch. He was so good at this. Creating environments built to break her down little by little.

He was relentless.

Of course that was a given, but it seemed he was even more desperate tonight to get her, to get every bit of her slick on his tongue and she couldn’t keep quiet, even with her gag. He wasn’t holding back, licking up from her entrance to her clit before spitting back down and using his hand to gently smack over her.

When she squealed, Harry’s wet mouth grinned, filthy promise written in his eyes as he smacked harder over her clit and watched her hips buck up. “Slut for pain. Like when I do that to you?” He shook his head, picking up the toy and dragging up her wet folds. “I hope that extends to some overstimulation. I want you to cry for me today. Good tears. Tears only I can ever get out of you.”

Turning it on he felt her jump, the lower setting making her squirm as he situated it right on her clit whilst his finger slipped into her cunt. “Drooling little hole you’ve got… you’re lucky you love this so much. It’s going to make it far easier for us when I’m fucking you.”

The woman’s breathing was staggered, her stomach clenching at the tension he was creating. It hurt so good, the burn paired with a deep lull of pleasure creeping throughout her body. The gentle vibration of the toy was tormenting her, if only he had turned it up even just one degree she swore it wouldn’t be as agonizing as this.

Whimpers managed to push through the fabric lodged in her mouth, her thighs twitching in his grasp. She was trying her best not to squirm, breathing heavily through her nose as she mentally coached herself through the pleasure. Her cunt squeezed around his fingers, desperate to be filled by his cock once again. He said he was being mean, there would be no point begging. She did tell him he could do what he wanted. Bunny would be good.

“What a perfect fucking whore, I can feel you squeezing me. Want more?” Harry mocked, rubbing the pads of his fingers over her precious g-spot. He was slow with the movements, coaxing more of those delicious little moans out of her. “Should’ve known you could take it— don’t you dare cum before I say so.” He didn’t want to stop touching her, he intended to flood her senses for a good while before giving her her first of many orgasms.

Harry clicked the toy up a speed, chuckling darkly at the way her body jolted. “So sensitive, so greedy…” He just about growled into her thigh, teeth sinking into the skin enough to satisfy him. The man could tell she was gone, but he didn’t want to stop it. Not when she was taking it so well, not when she so clearly wanted more.

She yelped against the fabric, body jerking as his teeth marked her. He hadn’t been joking when he had said he was going to go for it. While he’s bitten her before, this one was a claiming one. Dark and hard and a promise of more, making her drip for him.

“So-ee.” The poor attempt of ‘Sorry’ was muffled through a gag, apologizing from her jolt. His eyes glazed up at her, shaking his head but continuing his slight torture.

Harry loved to see her wet like this. To see the wet juices of her cunt coat his fingers and drip down her folds, all the way down to her ass. Soon enough it would mark the bedcover, and he couldn’t wait for that. His cock was aching, pulsing in his briefs but he was satisfying a different urge.

“Sorry? Mm… Slutty thing is sorry she can’t take a bite. What are we going to do with you?” Adding another finger, her legs twitched as her toes curled, the sloshing, wet sound of them fucking into her the music he needed to hear to his ears. “Don’t fucking cum.” He warned, pressing the vibrator harder against her clit. “Don’t do it. I know you’ve got a filthy set of holes back here, but have some self control.” He could feel it, the beginnings of clenches around his fingers and her thighs trembling as she began to protest behind the gag.

She almost did it. The pain had buzzed on to pleasure as his joined fingers curled right against a spot that had her stomach jumping, but he could tell. Immediately, her muddled moans were disrupted by a screech. His hand yanked away the toy, his fingers pulling out and the wet palm of his hand coming rough roughly onto her cunt.

“What did I say? Did I not just fucking tell you to hold it? You were going to do it anyway.” Again, his hand came down right over her clit, the sharp sting making her writhe under him. Again. And again. The stringing of slaps to her most intimate area hurt, but they felt good. So good, and Bunny could feel tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.

With a glare, Harry’s fingers pulled her spit soaked panties from her mouth and held her jaw roughly, speaking to her through a cruel smile. “Does it hurt too bad?” He cooed, shaking her head back and forth before he narrowed his eyes. “Or…Did you like that? Did my pretty little pain slut like having her cunt smacked around?” He asked, wiping his wet fingers on her cheek. Y/N was stupified, eyes wide and wet and mouth open as she tried to find the words. “Yes or no, Bunny. Use those words. Or did Daddy take them away from you so quickly?”

“Yes, I liked it, Daddy.” Bunny could feel her face heating up as she breathed out her answer. Admitting it to him always made her feel so shy, even more so than being spread out like this. Her body belonged to him, she never wanted to hide from him after the first time. But saying she liked his twisted methods of domination was another story. She used all the strength she had to hold herself up, using this opportunity to take in his expression. His face was wet—covered in her arousal, and his eyes were dark with pure lust. Primal desire, he couldn’t help himself. Every bit of her struggle to manage the immense pleasure sent him further into the headspace. He swore he could swallow her whole if she’d let him.

“Yeah? You like it, gorgeous?” Harry cooed, noticing the floaty look in her eyes. She was just as far gone as he was, he was glad she had convinced him to give in. His perfect girl, she really could take it.

“I do... I do, I love it.” She mewled, seeking his approval as she looked at him with glassy eyes and pouty lips. “Love e-everything you do to me. I want to make you happy.”

Harry felt that tiny bit of softness leak through the primitive layer, making him pet over her face softly before it melted away. She was dazed, looking like a baby deer- his helpless little Bunny. “I know you do. I could do anything I wanted and you’d thank me for it.” He sighed, shaking his head before pressing his lips to hers. A hint of softness before he had her.

“I could take this little toy….” He took the vibrator, switching it back on to a higher setting and placing it on her clit as he loomed over her shivering body, her mouth open and wet as she took uneven inhales. “And I could tape it to you. I could keep this little thing connected to your poor little clit and make you cum over and over for me until you can’t take it. And you’d thank me.”

A tear dripped down her cheek as she tried to hold back, the orgasm quickly rising as he had found the perfect spot, the perfect pace. “H-sir, sir- please let me cum, please, please, please.” She wrung her hands in the belt, the bite of the leather making her moan. “I can’t hold it, I can’t hold it, I wanna be good-“

And then, it was gone. A sob left her throat, frustration raising as Harry’s smirking face was her only vision.

“That was a cute beg. I liked it.” His smile resembled a wolf. Hunting her down, playing with his food. “Let’s try it again.”

Edging.

“No, no, no— Please!” Bunny cried, thrashing slightly in disapproval. “Please, please, please, please—“

Smack.

“Quiet,” Harry commanded, his voice stern as his hand roughly gripped her face. With furrowed brows he stared down at her, daring her to look away. “You were doing so well, what happened?” He kissed his teeth, dropping her from his grip. “If you want to cum you have to listen to me, brat.” He was testing his own patience. Hearing her beg was a weakness of his, but he wanted to prove a point.

Bunny simply nodded, bottom lip quivering for a moment. She wanted to cum so bad she could cry, the smack he placed across her cheek only fueling the fire in her core. “I’m sorry, sir.” She squeaked, blinking away her needy tears in hopes that he would touch her.

“Can I have a kiss? Please.” Her voice changed momentarily, needing him to ground her and remind her that she was doing well despite his harshness.

It was a moment of clarity, her shaky voice bleeding into a slightly unsure tone that had him softening up nearly immediately. It was good to know that his body truly could tell a difference. His fingers stroked her cheek where he had smacked, eyes gentle as he tipped her chin up and pressed their lips together for a loving kiss. “Doing so well for me. Can’t believe how well you’re taking this.” He murmured against her lips. “You’re okay?” The last thing he wanted to do was upset her seriously.

Thankfully she nodded, puckering her lips for a few more kisses which he readily gave to her before he could sense her melting back into position. “There. Good girl. Just tell me if you need me to stop, you know the safe word.” He gently tapped the tip of her nose before he let that dark mask take back over.

She was in awe of how he could do it. How he could be so loving and tender to her and then call her all the names in the book- and even more so because she loved it. Ate up every single piece of it

Without a word, he slipped his hand under her jaw to keep her eyes on him while the other flipped the vibrator back on. “You can cum this time. Then I think you’ll be nice and open for my dick. I want to see you be the pretty, needy little brat. Talk to me. Because as soon as I’m inside you, you’re not going to be able to.” He nudged their noses together. “Because you get so dumb on my cock. I love every bit of it. But someone’s got to remind you who you belong to.”

She belonged to him.

Everyone in this hotel would know that by the end of the night, Harry would make sure of it. Granting her permission to make noise, he knew there was no reason for her to hold back. He himself was tired of the muffled sounds, he wanted to hear her loud and clear.

“Thank you, sir, I-aH” Bunny’s breath hitched, relaxing into the feeling with a low whine. He had started it off deliciously slow again, though the pain from his previous torment had built up. She was sensitive.

“Just wanna cum, wanna show you how good you make me feel.” Bunny’s hands instinctually went to cup her tits but forgot about her bound wrists. She cursed him in her head, quickly losing herself in the pleasure as he turned the toy up another speed.

“Please slap my tits, want you to bite me again— I wanna cum for you over and over and over like you said, sir.” She was gone, far gone. “I’m your good girl, I promise.”

Harry loved this. He loved every bit of it.

This woman called to every single part of him, making him feel slightly feral as she spoke. This was his best friend’s little sister, the woman he was supposed to protect, and yet she was here telling him to slap her tits, bite her, to make her cum. It was wrong in many senses of the word but Harry had found that part of that made it feel even better.

He growled under his breath, doing exactly as he wanted. “That’s what I wanted.” He chuckled, slapping her bare breast before pinching her nipple. The noise that came from her swollen mouth was unlike what he’d heard before, but it continued when he pulled on it. It was visible in her face, she was wrecked already and he wanted to get her there. Make her babble again, her shaking legs struggling to stay open as he leaned down to bite right on the swell of her breast.

Bunny let out another desperate mewl, the bite hurting so fucking good she was close to seeing stars. “Please, please, I’m a good girl. I’m a good girl for you, I’m yours, keep biting me- M’gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna….” Her frantic squeaks were paired with a dark noise from Harry’s throat, moving to her neck to bite down on the soft curve of her shoulder. As soon as his teeth dug in, she lost it.

The vibrations, the pain of them, his fingers twisting and pinching her breast, the perfect mixture to make her cum. A wail left her plushy mouth as Harry rutted slightly against her thigh, pulling his teeth away to watch her face scrunch in pleasure.

She could feel pins and needles in her legs, crying as she came. The work up to the orgasm, the restraint, his closeness, she was greedy and got one of her wishes.

Bunny sighed in satisfaction, her body convulsing as she rode out the orgasm. “Fuck! Ah-“ She hissed, finally feeling the buzzing of the vibrator on her clit. It seemed that Harry wasn’t satisfied with just the one. “It hurts, Daddy.” She couldn’t bring herself to tell him to turn it off though.

“Shh, give it a few moments, pet…” Harry mumbled against her skin, knowing if she waited long enough the pain would turn to pleasure. It took a few more moments and whines from her till he felt her hips buck up against the toy. “That’s it, give me another one like the greedy little whore you are.” He let his mouth move back down to her chest, sucking at the skin before finding another perfect patch to bite.

Her skin was so warm and smooth against him, though he was starting to get annoyed at the layers he still had on. He hadn’t even bothered to rid himself of his clothes, getting carried away in the moment. He couldn’t bring himself to let go of her either.

“Can I? Fuck— can I cum again? It feels so good, can I, can I, can I—“ Bunny’s breathing was picking up again, eyes squeezing shut as if that would stop the quickly building climax from ripping through her. “I can’t hold it, please say yes, please—”

Pulling off her nipple, his hand smacked against her breast before he barked out the order.

“Cum.”

She felt like she wasn’t in her own body, on her way out. Halfway in. She was hot, sweat on her brow as she shuddered under him. It was fuzzy, her eyes clenching shut as her mouth opened in a silent screech.

Harry loved watching her cum. How her body arched, how she shook, her jaw clenching and her chest heaving. He was going to make sure he could keep this vision exclusively his for the rest of his life.

“That’s it, that’s my fucking girl.” He praised, laughing in disbelief as he felt her gush a little on his hand that held the toy. Messy, wet, everything he had been going for. He knew when it was starting to get too much, her squirm and whine signaling him for the right moment to stop. Pulling it off, he tossed it to the side and pressed their lips together, peppering filthy praises between the kisses.

“My fucking girl. So pretty when you cum for me. You drive me crazy. I’m so obsessed with you.” He panted, pulling back and taking her bound hands, and untying the belt off of her wrists. They looked a little irritated, making him take a second to stroke over them and bring them together to kiss the irritated skin. “M’not sorry, precious. You loved it.”

He was quick to dispose of the rest of his clothes, kicking them whenever they landed. He just wanted her. She was boneless on the bed, his gorgeous woman, panting as she looked at him with wet cheeks and clenched thighs he had to pry back open.

“C’mon,Baby. Up.” He lifted her towards the top of the bed. settling her onto the pillows, her hair haloed across the linen pillowcases, her bitten lips plump and dark, cheeks wet with her tears from the pleasure. His angelic picture with a frame sent from hell.

“You can touch me now, but I need to be inside of you.”

“I want you,“ Bunny’s hands immediately flew up to his hair, tugging at the roots with vigor. She had been itching to do it since the minute his tongue swiped over her clit, her grip so tight she swore her knuckles were white. “Inside. Right now.” She was still breathless, lifting her head to connect their lips once again.

She loved to kiss him. She would be happy just kissing him forever, but why would she want to when he could fuck her like this? “You’re so hot,” She whined against him, “please put your cock in me. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Bunny let one of her hands trail down his back, nails digging into the skin to inflict a bit of pain and emphasize her words. She needed his cock. “Call me greedy, I don’t care, I want it so bad— I wanna make a mess all over you. Want to feel you,” She trailed off, her eyes glazed over with desire. Her hand moved to grab his, placing it over the softest part of her belly. “Here.”

He had definitely broken her a bit. That shy, soft spoken spirit with a hint of tease had gone full blown need, showing her hand as she broke, egging him for it. Whining. She liked to be manhandled, she liked how regardless of his rough actions he took time to praise and check in and it drove her mad.

His hand flexed on her stomach, a fire flaring through his body. His Bunny begging him for it, not a hint of hesitation- it did something for him. A new wick lit inside, engulfing the rest of him in flames. It triggered a thought. One that would have repulsed him had it been quite literally anyone else…but the girl under him had a way of making him completely and utterly ruin any walls he had up. Rubble on the pavement.

He obliged, settling between her legs and brushing the dripping, ruddy tip of his engorged cock through her slick and puffy lips. It was so easy to get wet enough, wasting little time as he began to push in.

“Then take it.” He whispered, sliding his hand under her neck to hold her there. Right at the nape, eyes watching as hers watered at the stretch. “You want me in your belly, baby? Want to be full of me?” Lips brushed hers. “You are such a needy, desperate little bitch. Y’know that? I adore every part of it. Makes me even more glad that you’re mine… but…” he hissed as she welcomed him in, finding his home deep seated in her cunt with his balls up against her ass. “When you do things like that, makes me want to breed you.” Their mingled breathing paused as Bunny’s caught in her throat. “Ought t’knock you up. Keep you full….. because you’re mine. You know it… but the world should know too, shouldn’t it? Should know *exactly* who you belong to.”

Y/N whined, wide eyed looking at him as her body reacted to the ultra possessive claim. He’s always been a domineering man, but something about such a permanent claim had them both hot. It would be the worst timing, but her legs tightened around him to keep him close.

“Please.” The bleated word hit his lips. “I- yes. Yes. I want it, I want you in my belly. Please do it.”

Harry snickered at her pleading, feeling his cock grow impossibly heavy inside her. She was begging for his load, to have his child. Part of him knew she was just spacey, but he decided he’d let himself imagine she truly meant it for the moment. Would hurt right?

“Asking so nicely, like a good little slut.” He purred, the same feral smile returning to his face. His hips pulled back only to snap back inside her with a guttural moan leaving his throat. “Fucking love your cunt,” He set a slow pace for himself, wanting to meld his cock into every part of her walls. “Think I could spend days inside of you and still never get enough…. And you’re squeezing me so tight, you still aren’t satisfied?”

“No, too slow.” Bunny breathed, at her wit's end. Feeling full of him wasn’t cutting it in this state, she was feigning. Her hips bucked up on her own, her back arching to lean further into him. Her bratty self wasn’t taking too well to this position. He was still going easy on her. “Don’t tease me anymore, know you want to fuck me stupid. Make me hurt. Show me how you want it.”

What she hadn’t expected, though, was the sting in her scalp as he gripped her hair and kept her face still as he filled her to the brim, stopping the thrusts.

No. No, she needed more.

“I think you forget who’s in charge here.” He snarled. “No matter how good your cunt is, I’m the one who owns it. Making demands?” He laughed through his nose. “I’ll do as I damn well please.” His cock pulled back out to the tip before slamming back in, making the bed lurch and hit the wall.

She swore she saw stars, a scream leaving her lips as he repeated it again. Deep, so fucking deep that she didn’t know what to do with herself.

“Where did my good whore go? I love that beg but-“ he gave another devastating thrust, making her pant, nails digging into his back roughly. “You turned into a brat. Lucky I need to empty my balls and you’ve got a perfect hole for it, or I’d take it away from you.”

Her grip was strong enough to break skin, nails clawing down the length of his back with primal need.

Harry groaned at the feeling, the burn adding to his arousal. He liked the pain she was inflicting upon him but needed to be closer, deeper.

Without much of a warning, he pulled out and flipped her around, slamming back into her with such force the bed frame smacked against the wall again.

“No more words, Princess? Already gone dumb on my cock?” Harry couldn’t stop his hips from pistoning in and out of her with force. The feeling of her milking him was far too good, he’d teased himself enough and it was time to give in. “Take it. Every, last, bit.” His voice grew dark, pushing himself up off of her so he could take in his view.

Beautiful supple skin ready to be marked in any way he pleased. Her ass was something he couldn’t resist. “Wanted to plug you up today, make you squirm till you begged for me to fill both of your holes.” Thwack. Harry paused to admire the trace left over on her skin. “I couldn’t wait. I knew you couldn’t either— filthy little slut. You’re dripping f’me.” He smirked, placing another heavy handed smack on the opposite cheek.

She didn’t know how good it would feel.

There had been a feeling. With how he had smacked her before, how he had held her a bit rough. She knew that she liked pain and liked to see him in a darker, dominant headspace- but she hadn’t expected to feel the stinging prickles on her cheek and have it travel down to her cunt, showing clearly now as he fucked into her. His smacks had made her moan, the garbled noise fueling him further. His fingers brushed over her hot skin gently and massaged the flesh as his cock pounded into her. A contrast to the heavy thrusts stealing her breath and the slamming of the headboard into the wall behind them.

“Fu-uck. I can’t- I….” She choked on her words as he shifted, one leg over her hip while he stayed between his thighs with the other one. Her ass was spread open with his hand, thumb pressing into her hole as she squealed and thrashed under him.

It was too much. Both her holes being filled, the jostling of her body, being tossed around with her face in the sheets, she came without permission. Screaming muffled into the fabric as her face was stained with sweat and tears, noises punched out of her as he didn’t let up.

If anything? It spurred him on.

The steady sound of the headboard smacking against the wall kept the two of them anchored in reality. They paid no mind to the slow cracking in the bed frame, instead, Harry found himself sinking deeper into a new headspace.

“Greedy girl,“ He growled lowly, his voice settling in the thick air of the room. The smell of sin was enough for him to feel high. “Can’t wait for permission?” Another smack reverberated throughout the room. “You‘ll give me another.” He demanded.

Bunny opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Unable to form a single sentence, she screamed while writhing beneath him. Everything felt fuzzy, her vision blurry, her body completely open. His words made her cunt clench, surprising herself with how much she could take. Her body was begging for more. Her head turned so she could catch her breath, attempting to stabilize herself with her grip on the sheets and mattress. It was no use.

“Knew you’d shut up.” Harry was feral. “Keep screaming, slut. This is exactly what you wanted wasn’t it?”

It was, it was exactly what the both of them wanted- and they wouldn’t be stopping.

Not until it was 3 in the morning, the bed had broken, and their muscles ached.

And a hole in the wall from the bed frame- but that would be a problem for when they woke up. So would Harry’s raised and bleeding scratch marks, the bruising on Y/N’s hips and wrists, the lack of voice she was going to have from screaming when he hit it just right- but that was tomorrow’s problem. Right now, it was time to relish in their unfiltered, unadulterated passion.

Who knew when they’d get this opportunity again?

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