#not that i have an established ranking but if i did he would be way up there. poor guy
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ranking types of hugs he'd be comfortable with another guy giving his gf! a gojo satoru fic/drabble
cw: gojo x reader, established relationship, fluff LOLLL, gojo being a pathetic loser for his gf, use of baby, babe, reader referred to as gf and wears makeup, gojo being jealous, crack, based off this (instagram link)
"Ranking types of hugs I'd be comfortable with another guy giving my girlfriend." Satoru squints at the scene, reading out the caption on the TikTok as he watches the guy on the screen, long ass spider legs laid out on the couch while waiting for you to get ready. Curiously, he clicks on the filter without fully watching the video and starts filming to generate the different types of hugs.
"A back hug." The curious smile on his face slowly fades away as a grimace takes place as he gains the thousand yard stare. "Nine. Okay, not at a good start so far—"
He groans, face scrunching in pain as he exhales out at what he sees on the screen: slow dance hug. Then, he imagines you, a man's hand on your waist and you smiling just like those stupid fucking drawings at someone who's not him—"Ten. Oh my fucking god."
Clutching the lower half of his face, he looks concentrated as he waits for the shuffler to give him some less painful option, groaning in pain once again, looking back at the scene, and then groaning again. "One armed hug," he strains out, blindly reaching for the lowest number he could rank it as.
The filter shuffles yet again, and he's almost in tears, groaning immediately on instinct but then doubling back at his screen. "Polite hug." He contemplates it. "Okay, a two, not so bad, not so—"
A pause. "A classic hug." He stares at the screen like it just betrayed him, until he decides it's not so bad. Reluctantly, he ranks it at three.
Then, he waits for the filter to give him another painful vision, and it delivers. "A slow catcher hug—oh my godddd." Satoru is shaking his head, eyes teary as he groans loudly at the though of you jumping up to another man, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him in for a hug. If someone was listening to him, it would seem like he was dying with the way he was covering his mouth, shaking his head, and exclaiming "what the fuck"'s as he stared at his phone screen in sheer shock.
Unfortunately for you, you were within earshot, blending in your blush and doing finishing touches as you heard Satoru's shrieks coming in from the living room. He seemed to be on the edge of tears, and worriedly, you set down your brush and rushed to where his sobs were coming from.
And there he was: in fetal position, phone on the floor as he shook his head as if in shock. "Baby," you hurried to him, grabbing his face so you could figure out what was making him so distressed.
He didn't seem to be injured as he meets your eyes, upset. "I can't do this bruh," he laments while turning to be on his back and rubbing his eyes. You just look at him confused.
"Do what?"
He turns, and pauses. Scans you in your champagne dress for the fancy place he was taking you and the way you did your makeup so sultry. It's just for him, but after the events of that Tiktok—that's now stopped filming—all he feels is petty jealousy because other guys can see you like this.
Out of nowhere, he declares, "I can fight."
You blink. "What?"
"I can fight," he repeats, nodding emphatically as if trying to convince himself. Then, after a beat: "Why do I have such a pretty girlfriend?" He groans again, throwing his arm over his eyes. "Baby, why do you look so good right now?"
While he does this, you inspect him for any signs of injuries or things that could've caused him this much distress. Finding none and used to his theatrics, you sigh and pat his cheek. "I’m going to finish getting ready," you say, deciding he’s not in mortal peril after all.
As you return to your vanity, Satoru calls after you, still sulking. "Just so you know, I ranked the polite hug at two. Because I love you. And I can fight."
"Good to know, Satoru."
a/n lowk spiderman!gojo coded. i love writing fluff i would lowk want to write this for nanami i feel like he would slowly grow more and more jealous LMAOAO
#divider by cafekitsune#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo fluff#gojo satoru x you#jjk fluff#gojo satoru#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff#aashi writes#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo fluff#jjk x y/n#gojo x y/n
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finished AC Origins! I liked it a lot, Bayek might be one of my favorite protags
#not that i have an established ranking but if i did he would be way up there. poor guy#it's a big game. i didn't really bother with the (formal) sidequests but MSQ; clearing up the maps; and upgrading the equipment takes a min#don't know how i feel about the extra RPG elements with substats on weapons and such. and i wish the armor system was like in AC2#(for example) where you have different Sets and can mix and match. give me Fashion's Creed#also my gripes about it ''not feeling like an AC game'' were fully due to the controls. switched them up and never felt the friction again#this isn't an Origins-only problem but i miss having the hidden blade as a selectable weapon. let me do OHKO counterattacks#i also felt for layla. must suck to realize that for all the ''promise'' they say you show you barely even count as a pawn#a visionary just as disposable as any other poor fool#although i liked the 2nd DLC i felt that the facial animations were off? like the eyes were too static#and the memory corridors were scaled back for both DLCs. though i will admit the sinai templar ones did creep me out#i kept bayek's beard for my whole playthrough so when i look at renders and screenies and promos he looks peeled#darktalks#onto odyssey now
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“The Captain’s beloved…wait, what?!”
Capitano x Gender Neutral Reader one shot
Work count: 2.2k
Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship
Rating: General Audiences
Trigger Warnings: none
Summary: The fatui discover that their Captain does, in fact, have a life outside of work and gossip between the ranks ensues. (Cue silly fatui shenanigans)
Ao3 Link
Capitano, the Fatui’s first lord and harbinger, contrary to popular belief, was respected and admired by his platoons rather than feared. There was a widespread misunderstanding both in and outside the organization that the Captain was a harsh and dangerous leader due to his mysterious nature. However, the people who worked under him knew better as they had grown to admire him the more they interacted with him.
He held himself with pride and treated his soldiers the same way he wanted to be treated: with respect and dignity. And in return, they learned the depths of this man’s strategic genius and strength. His strength was unmatched in combat and led his people well with good decision making and training. They could only hope to be as good as him in his various fields of expertise.
He was strict, and quick to discipline unruly fatuus, yes, but that did not stop others under his command from admiring him. And to emphasize this even more, it was clear that his fellow harbingers and even the Tsarista respected him, whether their goals and morals aligned with his or not. However, this made the people around him curious about aspects related to him outside of his work and title. He was a revered public figure and people were naturally curious about his personal life.
This is where you came in. You, his one and only beloved, the only person who held his whole heart in your hands. Not many people knew of this, but the Captain was a gentle man at his core, and you had somehow managed to uncover all of his being and see him fully as himself, without his title, without his strength. You knew this man inside and out, just as he had come to know you. It was a mutual love, one which even he did not know he was capable of feeling, and that made him all the more enamored with you.
This, however, people did not know. So you can imagine the surprise on their faces when you, an ordinary civilian, came to the Zapalyarny Palace and asked for directions to the Captain’s office. The clerk at the desk looked at you blankly, as if she were staring at an anomaly. This prompted you to try and explain yourself.
“..I’m here to drop off his lunch. So, if you don’t mind..?” You asked.
No response. The blank stare continued.
You already knew that you looked out of place in this grand palace with no Fatui uniform or mask on. But you were determined to make sure your beloved got his lunch, which you had specifically decided to make for him that day as a special treat for how hard he had been working while preparing for a business trip to Natlan.
“Excuse me..?” You said a little louder this time. That seemed to snap her back to reality.
“You cannot enter this place, only authorized personnel are allowed inside. If you’d like to meet our lord, please book your appointment accordingly.” She replied on autopilot, as if she’d rehearsed the same sentence multiple times.
“I’m sorry, I know you have your duties, but I’m here just to drop off his lunch. You can check with him yourself if you’d like..”
“He’s busy at the moment, please leave your package here and we will deliver it to him.” She replied. It seemed like you were being studied like a suspicious person who was attempting to sneak in.
Fair enough.. you thought. I was hoping I would get to spend a few minutes with him and see how he was holding up at work but that can wait till he’s home. And she’s not wrong, I did drop by without notice, so it makes sense for them to be suspicious.
Fatui soldiers passing by had also been glancing at the ongoing conversation at the front desk, eyeing the lunch box wrapped in patterned cloth in your hands with raised eyebrows. You decided to leave the food there, getting one last word in before leaving.
“If you could, please make sure it reaches him soon. It’s his favorite meal and I would prefer it didn’t go cold before he ate it.”
And then everyone watched as your ordinary self left, unaware of the number of eyes on you.
…
A pyroslinger skirmisher stationed near the entrance asked dumbfoundedly, “Did..did they just say that was the Captain’s favorite meal? Our lord harbinger?”
A cryogunner skirmisher who had also watched the whole thing go down as he clocked in asked another question right after, in the same state of confusion as the previous fatuus. “..Has anyone seen them around before? They don’t look like someone who would be seen standing next to Lord Capitano.”
And as the just as confused clerk left the scene towards his office with your goods in hand, excited chatter filled the halls.
Chaos would be the right word for it. You had left chaos in your wake with a simple visit to his workplace.
…
That night, as you and Capitano settled in to relax in your shared home after a long day of work, you asked him how his lunch was.
“It was delicious, my love.” He replied, gently caressing your face with his hands while looking down at you through his mask. “It felt like a treat to have your home cooked meal at work. You didn’t have to, but thank you. It made my day.”
You smiled and took his hands in yours as you nuzzled into his touch. “I’m glad you liked it. I was going to give it to you myself but I couldn’t enter the place.”
“You should visit more often. I’ll let the security personnel know to let you enter so you can come and go as you like.” He paused, clearing his throat. “..Seeing you in the middle of a long day would bring me relief.”
You felt slightly flushed at his straightforward choice of words. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you being so..open with me. But I like it, of course. I would like that as long as I’m not disturbing you at work.”
Capitano chuckled. It was like the angels decided to bless you today, really. “I will always make time for you, my love. Just as you do for me.”
You beamed. “Okay, okay, let’s get some sleep now, Mr. Loverman. We still have work tomorrow in case you’re forgetting.”
A kiss on the forehead and the rustling of sheets was all you heard before you were whisked away to dreamland.
…
Unbeknownst to you and Capitano, however, word about you spread like wildfire across the next few days between the excited fatui soldiers. Some from even the different departments under the other harbingers might’ve heard. The person who looked like a civilian, dropping lunch packed in pretty cloth for their Lord did not go unnoticed.
This was the only time someone unrelated to work had been seen asking for their Captain and questions about your relation to him were on the tip of everyone’s tongue during break times.
Two fatuus gossiped as they watched the Captain spar in training with his fellow soldiers, admiration evident in their eyes.
“Someone dropped off lunch for him? I thought he would be too busy having meals with high rankers from across Teyvat.”
And after a short pause the other replied, “Dude, hold on, does he even eat? I thought he was superhuman or something.”
“I know you’re dumb, but I didn’t know you were that dumb, my guy.”
“Hey! Just saying… anyway, are we even sure the people weren’t hallucinating when they saw the person drop lunch off for him?”
“I heard it was his favorite meal, freshly cooked, apparently. Who knows, man? Maybe it was a fan or something. Our lord does have a pretty big following, y’know.” The fatuus stated proudly.
Their lively chatter continued until they were called back into training.
…
A few days later, as soon as you found the time, you decided to visit Capitano at work with yet another home cooked meal. You wanted to make most of your time with him before he traveled to Natlan and having meals together would be a good way to wind down a little.
You entered the palace yet again, determined to meet him this time. It should be fine, right? He did say he would inform them..
And as you had hoped so, he did, in fact, inform them. As soon as the same clerk from before saw you, it seemed like her eyes were bulging out of her sockets. All you had to do was reach the desk and she confirmed your name and led you to the training grounds, where he was currently working. It seemed like some sort of training session was in the works, with all kinds of combat taking place between the soldiers in the distance.
Before you could ask her if you were even allowed to enter this place, she bowed and hurried back in the direction of the front desk. The strange behavior didn’t go unnoticed by you but now you had to find your way to Capitano across the opposite side of the field. Since you were here at last, why not just see things through?
The middle of the field was the most densely occupied with various people fighting in different groups, while what you recognised as skirmishers were practicing their aim at dummy targets on the right side. The soldiers were hard at work even in the harsh everlasting winter of Snezhnaya. The left side of the field, however, seemed less crowded compared to the rest as people seemed to be setting up their gear or resting. Your Captain, opposite to you across the field, was busy conversing with a group of soldiers who seemed to be listening to him attentively.
You decided your best option was to take the left side. It would be easier to walk through the calm atmosphere over there.
As you made your way through the crowd, people started to notice you. They were pretty intimidating with their weapons and muscled bodies at display so you decided to be extra careful to not bump into anyone and quickly made your way across, and as you got closer, Capitano’s voice became clear.
“The heat in Natlan will be unbearable. You will be stationed in the wild all day, so make sure you have the appropriate supplies to get you through the day. It is of the utmost importance that...what, what is it? Why are you all staring at me like that?”
The group’s attention shifted from him to you, as you stood behind him and tapped his shoulder.
“Capitano, do you have a moment..?” You asked as he turned around, his armor clinking from the movement.
“Oh, my love!” He exclaimed in a soft voice. “What brings you here? Hold on, let's get you back inside. You’ll catch a cold here.”
The group (and everyone nearby) watched in complete awe as his demeanor from before completely switched from authoritative to somewhat… joyfull? Was Lord Capitano being affectionate?
“I brought you lunch, but I can leave it in your office if you’re busy right now.” You said hurriedly, not wanting to keep him busy.
“No, that won’t do, my love.” He took the package from you and placed his hand on your back. “Eat with me inside.”
He then turned back to the group, who jolted straight up at his sudden change. “Finish the supply preparations once you’re done training. All of you are dismissed.”
“Y-yes, my lord!” They replied in unison and bowed. And yet again, they watched in awe as he guided you back inside the palace, ever so gently, one hand on your back and the other carrying a box wrapped up in a floral patterned cloth. A stark contrast to his all black and blue outfit.
…
As soon as both of you were out of sight, chaos erupted yet again, more loudly this time, with multiple voices talking over the other.
“”My love?” Did he just call them “my love?” Did I hear that right?!”
“What was that? What did we just witness?”
“That was so romantic, holy shit! Was that the same person we take orders from everyday? What the hell?!”
“DID THE LORD HARBINGER JUST… GET VISITED BY THEIR SPOUSE?”
“I thought that ring on his finger was for fashion…”
And that is how they found out that their beloved Captain, who seemed to have no soul outside of his work, was a married man with a loving spouse.
This proceeded to be the hottest gossip in the Fatui for the rest of the month, until they discover more about you from another future visit.
…
BONUS:
Sitting in the privacy of his office, you enjoyed your meal together.
“..You seem to work with very strange people, Capitano.” You said to him.
“Do I? How so?” He asked before you fed him a bite.
“Hm.. actually, nevermind. It would be even stranger if they weren’t strange, considering they work with you.” You chuckled.
You enjoyed your time together and went back home, leaving your beloved in confusion from your conversation, and the sight of you fondly feeding him for him to think about for the rest of the day.
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#my writing#genshin fanfic#fatui capitano#capitano#capitano x reader#capitano x you#fatui harbingers#genshin impact fatui#fatui x reader#fluff#genshin harbingers#genshin fluff
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the warrior of light as a game-breaking force of violence
there's a moment, relatively early in dawntrail, that establishes succinctly how out of place the warrior of light (as the savior of eorzea and main character of four successive final fantasy game plots) is in what is essentially the story of fresh new final fantasy protagonist wuk lamat. and it sets up quite nicely how the framework of fantasy video game conflict pulls the warrior of light forever towards violence as the expansion goes on.
spoilers through 7.0 follow
consider wuk lamat's kidnapping and rescue. bakool ja ja holds his blade to wuk lamat's throat, taunting you. his lackeys line up against your party in neat little ranks suspiciously reminiscent of a classic final fantasy encounter screen.
and it simply does not matter to the warrior of light. you stride right through their combat setup because you are beyond that by now. the warrior of light has absolutely no respect for the "we are about to do ATB combat" lineup. the camera even jumps the line for you in one continuous rotating shot, crossing the axis of action as though to emphasize through the disruption of visual convention how far outside the game's boundaries you are.
this is how far you are above the problems of dawntrail's first half. you cannot even be bound by the normal rules of cinematography and video game combat. everyone else here lined up for a good old-fashioned scrap and the warrior of light said haha nope actually. i'm going to stroll through here like a god of war astride this tiny battlefield. your henchmen cannot even raise a hand to me. i don't even have to engage in violence directly anymore. my mere presence is enough.
in fact, not only can bakool ja ja's henchmen not raise a hand to you, he's not even worthy of your direct intervention. he kidnaps wuk lamat and steals her keystones and frees valigarmanda and kidnaps hunmu rruk and none of it warrants the warrior of light so much as raising a finger. he's wuk lamat's recurring villain, that's not your problem. you're just here to take in the scenery.
zoraal ja spends his whole life aspiring to be thought of as his father's equal and a worthy successor to the dawnservant as the "resilient son." all it takes for gulool ja ja to acknowledge you as a warrior on his level is like a five minute sparring match. the acknowledgement from gulool ja ja that zoraal ja hungered for his whole life and would eventually go full cyborg supervillain to get via regicide is something the warrior of light receives casually in a throwaway line after their level 93 solo duty on the way to more important plot conversations.
it really seems for a second, in the first half of dawntrail, like you are strong enough and the problems simple enough for this to be a clean and easy adventure. bakool ja ja? power of friendship'd. mamook? successfully reintegrated, no worries about the crimes against humanity. rite of succession? handily won. nothing can stop you. even duty finder queue times have been conquered: you can do all your duties with trusts now.
all of which only makes it better when the second half has sphene ask you and wuk lamat directly: could your strength have been enough to save alexandria? could you have found a different way?
i know some people get very annoyed we don't intervene in the gulool ja ja fight. now personally i think if you see arthur and mordred squaring up it's rude to intervene, but beyond that, it simply wouldn't have mattered. by the time zoraal ja's forces arrived in tuliyollal, alexandria and tural were already on a collision course and doomed to conflict. your hands alone could never have averted this conflict. sphene was always bound to do what she did—and certainly a gulool ja ja without his reason would not be any more inclined to peace than wuk lamat and koana were.
there's a great little moment just before living memory where estinien, champion at reading the room, is like "okay so if thancred and i stay here that frees up you up, aibou, to do what you do best and save the world and have epic fights. woo!!!" and immediately afterwards you basically have to apologize to alisaie because part of the sort of unspoken premise of this whole trip in the first place was that you were, finally, not going to plunge into mortal peril to save the world. you were finally going to take it easy. you were finally done with that. and she has to sort of ruefully be like nah it's fine bro. i was trying to get you to take it easy and not do insane risky world-saving violence. but y'know these things (interdimensional invasions) happen.
by the time you reach the very last trial, all pretense that the warrior of light could have ever been beyond these problems has vanished. you were, very emphatically, not strong enough to hold onto all that was dear without sacrifice. gulool ja ja and otis and cahciua died. yyasulani was irreversibly changed, physically colonized and culturally decimated by another dimension. you systematically shut down each part of living memory, and all its friendly, charming, loving ghosts, with your own hands. with your own clicks.
not even the vaunted strength of the warrior of light is enough to overcome sphene's inexorable logic of conflict. and so, in the end, she plucks you out of the crowd and says, explicitly for reasons of your strength, that you are going to have to do a boss fight now. you are going to have to kill her and you are going to have to do it in a proper 8-on-1 trial, and she forces you to affirmatively state that you understand you're going to kill her.
did you think you were above it all? did you think you could get away from here with your weapon undrawn, with your hands clean? that for you and you alone the logic of conflict comes undone? wrong. wrong. wrong.
your strength cannot redeem you, says sphene. your friends cannot make these sacrifices for you. if you would play the hero then you must play the hero. no half-measures.
back to the duty finder with ye.
#ffxiv#dawntrail spoilers#dawntrail#sphene alexandros xiv#sphene#wuk lamat#estinien varlineau#warrior of light ffxiv#meta: durai report#developing a framework for understanding the wol where all the mandatory video game violence is sort of a noblesse oblige for being the pc#you want to just magically find whatever you need whenever you need it? you want to be literally a master of whatever craft you please?#you want to have the echo? you better work (be the weapon of light) bitch
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ᴛʜᴇ ʏᴀᴘᴘᴇʀ & ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴇʀ
a/n: I'm back! with a gift for my bsf, and my hyperfixation with TF is back full swing :D
tags: fluff, established relationship, robot/human, brief spoilers but nothing major
synopsis: You sit on Sentinels shoulder as he talks about his day.
on ao3!
wanna support me or commison a fic? check out kofi!
You like listening to Sentinel speak, finding his voice rather soothing and almost therapeutic. Most people—cybertrionians—didn't, esspically the ones who have been working for him over the decades. You can easily see the annoyance prevalent on their faces, but they never dared to voice it.
He knows this all too well and simply doesn't care. With his ego and self-confidence, he never lets it bother him. Although, he seems to talk even more when he's around you.
He doesn't talk at you like he does others. He actually talks to you, actively including you in his conversations that he'd normally have for himself.
Just as he is now, in the privacy of your shared habsuite. He sits at his desk, typing away on boring data pads as he talks about his day. You relax on his shoulder, leaning against his vents and enjoying the breeze that warms your cold skin.
"Those two miners- by primus were they something. I never thought I'd see those cogless bots actually try to be... different." Sentinel says, and sarcastic chuckle emits from his voice box.
You nod, flipping a page in your book. It was one of the many that you brought with you on your spaceship when you crashed and landed on Cybertrion.
"Is that a good or bad thing?" You ask as look up from your book and stare at the side of his helm. The gold of his audials still shone under the dim lighting.
He huffed, his vents pushing out a hot breeze of air. "Not necessarily. It did make the race more enjoyable and boosted the work ethic of the other minors, but they broke rank, so they will be dealt with."
A frown tugs at your lips. You didn't like the way he delved out punishments. Finding them too much for even the littlest things.
"They won't mysteriously disappear, right?"
Sentinel turns his head to you, and the striking blue of his optics locks with your eyes. You tense slightly, the stare was intense, and unnerving. You can't read him when he's like this. The unpredictability puts you on edge.
"Nuh uh, they'll just be going to one of the sublevels. Don't worry, you're pretty little head about it, 'kay?" He reassures you and grins, leaning forward to press a light kiss to your lips, the best he could anyway since his face obviously drawfs yours.
His engine rumbles—sounding like a cats purr—, and he pulls back, eyes analyzing your now smiling face. Sentinel raises a servo and his digit through your hair, pushing it back and away from your face. He would touch your hair for days if he could. Its softness brings him a great sense of peace.
Sentinel will probably never admit it, but he likes it when he's with you. With you, he can relax, forgetting about the Quintessons and everything else on Cybertron he has to deal with.
He likes the quietness being with you brings, the comfortable presence you have, of someone who actually wants to be around him and indulge him in a real conversation.
Enjoying the hair stroking, you let your eyes fall shut, leaning back into his digit. The stroke of it is soothing, reminding you of your family back home.
Now he's your family, and you both are content with that.
#transformers one#tf1#tf one#tf one 2024#x reader#robot x human#sentinel prime#sentinel prime x reader#sentinel x reader#tf one x reader#transformers x reader#tf1 x reader#transformers one x reader
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Thinking about how canon it is that Logan's cptsd and truama is so bad that his brain quite literally just DIPS sometimes like in days of future past when he blinks out and Charles is the one who calms him down.
How he grabs charles up and growls at him that he dosn't know who he is, where he is, or how he got here. He sees one of his best friends in the future and screams "What the fuck is that!?"
Charles and Hank just look at him like bruh weve been over this already. He says "Ill handle this," while looking at Logan when talking to Hank, then tells Hank to go stop Erik.
Logan recognizes this as Charles having authority over this big blue beast of a man, somewhat submitting to his word, litsening that he is infact 'Logan' and that he's spent the last couple of days with them (establishing that they are friends not foe) and then- in the most pathetic way ever- Lies to him. Tells him he's on "really bad acid"
Logan is still very spooked but just gives a little nod.
This is the quickest I've seen ANYONE gain his trust when in states like this other than Jean and Kurt, who was stupid enough to bear hug the feral woods man charging at him with his claws out.
Kurt is one of the few people without telepathy (even though Charles sacrificed his for his legs) who can get to Logan very quickly with minimal damage.
And I feel like... Wade might be just as stupid. He's so stupid that Logan would growl at him, shove a fist full of knives right through him, and Wade would just stand there like "ouch. Anyway- what's got you all riled up, peanut?"
So he'd do it again. And again. Annndd again.
When he finally does think Wade is dead, he just gasps and sits back up. "Look if this is about what I did with your toothbrush-"
Logan could decapitate him, and still he would just chase after his head like, "Aaw not cool man, do you know how much it hurts to put this thing back on? 3 days of neck pain, that's what."
It would both freak logan out and confuse him enough to become grounded, that shock factor of "what the fuck just happened???" enough to regulate his heart.
Logan would stare at him, baffled, watching as he sits there and tries to reattach his head. He'd look at his bloody claws, look at the mess on the floor, blink a few times, and honestly might start batting at his head with pure curiousity.
"Oh my god, you're such a cat."
How was he talking still? Maybe he was sleeping. Yeah, that's it. He was dreaming. This was a dream.
The only real issue he would have is keeping Logan inside the apartment until he calmed enough to realize that this wasn't a dream- this is real- you just decapitated your room mate.
Because god knows that once you set a feral wolverine free? You won't find him again until he wants to be found, which can be weeks, months, years even.
He needs that soft authority. The type that's built on mutual trust and respect. The type where he has the ability to leave and return at his own will. The moment you try to pin him down, tell him that you have higher authority due to some made-up rank, that's when you lose him. Logan subconsiously has an animalistic based sense of authority and hierarchy.
Charles had "control" over this blue beasty creature, and to Logan, that means he's head hancho in that moment. It makes Logan recognize that there's a reason, too, seeing as Beast could easily destroy such a scrawny pathethic looking man, right? It's only natural for his systems to lay out like this. Having constantly battled for "dominance" with Victor also plays a part.
Despite being in the military for so long, hearing someone is captain does not add up in his head unless they deserve to be captain through strength or size. It's why while Wade (who technically is stronger than him) dosn't show agression to "prove" his status, Logan realizes that his claws being usless plays a big part.
It's like when you go to fight a battle in a video game only to realize that your fire powers do absolutely no damage on the fire based enemy, if anything, fueling it by giving it more fire.
A "aw shit sorry fam my bad" type of submission such as wolves do. While usually related, juvenile males will still try to prove dominance with the top male only for the top male to quickly remind them why they are boss in which case the juvenile wolf will be like "Damn sorry- My bad original gangster I was just being silly"
Logan also needs a reason to stay. Charles telling him that logan has stayed with them makes Logan believe he should stay with him longer.
He needs that beacon. And right now?
That talking head that he's pushing around on the floor is pretty entertaining.
"...how are you talking?"
"Oof look wolvie I love you're embrassing your true self but let's not open that can of worms The comics are contradicting, and by rights, I shouldn't be able to control my limbs anymore, but I can. Now- be a big, strong kitty cat and give me back to that handsome man over there, will ya?"
His body is just casually sitting there with his arms out, wanting his head back.
".... i'm so fucking high."
"I wish. If you were high on catnip you wouldn't have sliced me to bits."
"Heh... you're funny."
"Aawww!! Really?"
".... what happens if I punt your head out the window?"
"Woah woaH WOAH PEANUT LETS NOT GO THAT FAR! SAFEWORD!! I NEED THE SAFEWORD!"
But alas. He fogot the safeword.
This has been your PSA that safewords are important. Be safe, kiddos.
#charles xavier#hank mccoy#kurt wagner#nightcrawler#beast#days of future past#x men#xmen#professor x#deadpool and wolverine#poolverine#logan howlett#deadpool#wade wilson#deadpool 3#wolverine#wolverine comics#deadpool comics#consent is key#safe word#temporary amnesia#panic induced amnesia#living with cptsd#complex ptsd#panic attack#character analysis#spoilers#long ahh post
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No commentator on 7 October last year - myself included - would have predicted that the war would still be being fought with the utmost ferocity a year on. No one would have predicted a year ago that Israel would be fighting for longer than it did when it established its state in 1948. All wars Israel has fought since have been brief shows of absolute strength. [...]
Under Netanyahu’s right-wing government, the lives of the hostages were secondary to the aim of smashing Hamas. Had the hostages returned, Netanyahu could now be facing a long term in prison. But he has demonstrably failed to smash Hamas, hence the speed with which he has started a new war with Lebanon and Hezbollah. [...] Hamas re-emerges wherever Israeli troops are not. Plain clothes police officers emerge to settle disputes within a matter of hours.
At first, Israel tried to wipe out Hamas’s leadership. It has killed the first and second ranks of officials running the government, most of them in a massacre outside al-Shifa hospital.
But an insight into what is actually going on in Gaza was offered by Israel's latest announcement that it had killed three senior Hamas officials - Rawhi Mushtaha, the head of government and de facto prime minister; Sameh al-Siraj, who held the security portfolio on Hamas’s political bureau; and Sami Oudeh, commander of Hamas’s General Security Mechanism. The air strike happened three months ago, and no one had noticed their absence. This is because Hamas continued to function regardless of which leaders were alive or dead. [...]
Israel’s terror only begets more terror. The destruction of West Beirut in 1982 inspired Osama bin Laden’s attack on the Twin Towers in 2001. [...]
On 6 October, the Palestinian national cause was dead, if not buried. After more than 30 years of Oslo accords, Gaza was totally isolated. Its siege was permanent, and no one cared. Netanyahu claimed victory, in September 2023 waving a map at the UN in which the West Bank did not exist. There was only one item on the regional agenda and that was Saudi Arabia’s impending normalisation with Israel. [...]
Today, Hamas has changed the course of events, because the peaceful path to a viable Palestinian state was blocked. All talk of a peace process was a Potemkin-size mirage. Oslo not only failed to deliver a Palestinian state. It created the conditions for the Israeli state to expand and thrive as never before in the West Bank and Jerusalem. [...]
Regionally, the axis of resistance, which for much of the period since the Arab Spring, was a rhetorical device, has become a functioning military alliance. [...]
Palestine has returned to its rightful place, which is to occupy the key role in determining the stability of the region.
Israel’s brutal response to 7 October has reversed decades of Israeli and US efforts to convince Arabs that Palestine could no longer have a veto on Israeli-Arab relations. Today that veto is stronger than ever before. [...]
Of the two strategies, Sinwar’s seems to be working. Whether he lives or dies, that agenda already has an unstoppable momentum of its own. [...]
This war has stripped Israel of its liberal Zionist image, the image of the new kid on the block trying to defend itself in a “tough neighbourhood”. This has been replaced by the image of a regional ogre, a genocidal state, with no moral compass, using terror to survive. Such a state cannot live in peace with its neighbours. It crushes and dominates to survive.
Netanyahu’s war is short-term and tactical. Sinwar’s war is long-term. It is to make Israel realise it can never keep the lands it has occupied if it wants peace.
Netanyahu’s war is a year old and can only continue in the same way it started by meting out the same devastation to south Lebanon that Gaza received. It has no reverse gear. Sinwar’s war has only just started.
How Netanyahu stole defeat from the jaws of victory: Netanyahu's brutal response to 7 October has undone decades of increasingly successful efforts by Israel and the US to convince Arab governments to abandon the Palestinian national cause.
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could you do spencer x fem!reader where he proposes in the middle of chasing an unsub?
Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader Trope: Established relationship; Fluff! Just fluff! w.c: 1.2k A/N: slowly finishing up on the remaining requests on my inbox. It’s taking me quite some time as I’m a mood writer so there’s days where I’m purely focused on my ideas then theres days where i’m motivated to finish the requests and theres days where i have no will to write a single word at all. Found myself rambling and immensly enjoying where the idea was going so hopefully this lives up to your expectation, no matter how late or unedited this is. Enjoy! Main masterlist
Curveball. // Spencer Reid
This wasn’t how Spencer planned it. Not at all.
By nature, he was a stickler to rules and organization. Having created a mind map on the trajectory of his life from the very first time he realized how different he was from the rest. Graduate early in high school, check. Get multiple BA and PhD degrees, multiple checks. Join the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico, big check. Everything was planned out. No matter how big or small.
Or at least it was, up until you strolled into the bullpen with your sensible heeled boots, crisp button downs, and tailor fitted slacks. A new recruit directly slotted by David Rossi, just like how Jason Gideon pulled rank to get him in the BAU. The stark difference was you weren’t as green as he was back then, fresh from the academy. With your credentials considered one of the best and with beaming approval from the BAU’s co-founder, David Rossi, and former member, Katie Cole of CACU, you were an immediate shoe in for the position—joining the team’s dynamic quite effortlessly and with ease.
Meeting you and falling helplessly in love with you by the end of your 6-month stay in the team was never written in Spencer’s books. He never thought once that he would find, as cliche as it sounded, a forever companion beyond the platonic relationships built within the team. He, in all of his intellect, also never thought you’d end up viewing him the same way but you did. He was so glad you did. Any disruption it caused to his mind map was a change he wholeheartedly welcomed as long as he got to come home with you wrapped in his arms.
But at the following moments, Spencer was re-considering his standpoint on the thrown curveballs that come his way all from being devotedly enamored with you.
“Spencer Reid!” you stomped your foot on the carpeted floor of the shared hotel room to gain his attention. “Did you suggest to Hotch that I be on geographical profile duty with you rather than being out with my usual partner Morgan?”
“What? No—no! Why would you think that, princess?”
With your arms crossed on your chest, hip cocked to one side, and analytical eyes cataloguing his every fidget, he knew his lie was done for.
You scoffed. “Oh I don’t know, besides from the fact you can’t look me in the eye, what else is there?” You took a minute to pause for dramatization. “Oh I know, is it because I bear a striking resemblance to all the victims? Or is it because of what happened during the last case?”
He scrunched his nose, giving himself away. “You got shot without me there, of course I got worried! What if—what if you weren’t wearing your kevlar vest or what if the unsub aimed higher, making sure to land a critical hit?” His form slumped down on the bed. “I can’t bear the thought of you in danger while I’m not around to protect you.”
“Spence, our job comes with a risk and I’m good at my job—”
“I know you are. I’ve seen you in target practice and tackle unsubs bigger than you but it also comes with the boyfriend territory that I worry whenever you’re away.”
You sighed, sitting beside him and taking his hand into yours. The difference in size was a sharp reminder on how petite and delicate you are in Spencer’s eyes. “And I get that too when we’re on duty and apart but you know what gets me by?” He shook his head, doe eyes peering into yours with such adoration. “Trust. I trust you to always come back to me, safe. In turn, I need you to trust me to do my job and take extra pre-caution with every decision I do in the field. Can you do that for me, sweet boy?”
He slowly nodded his head. “I—I can do that.”
“Next time, let’s also communicate any small or big concerns, okay Spence? I’d rather not feel lost and confused the next time a problem arises.”
“As long as you promise the same to me.”
You smiled before nodding your head in return. “Of course.”
He leaned in. Kissing those pouty lips that had been calling for him like a siren ever since the disagreement ensued.
———
“Alright,” Hotch’s no-nonsense voice called everyone’s attention. “The group of unsubs are currently holding two civilian hostages inside this very building. Morgan, Y/N, and Prentiss, you take the left entrance. Reid and Rossi, you’re with me at the right entrance.” Numerous affirmatives were echoed. “They’re armed and have proven themselves capable of killing. Vests tight and keep vigilant.”
Footsteps dispersed for preparation but before you could escape from Spencer’s line of sight, he pulled you close, adjusting your vest and making sure it was strapped tight around your chest.
“Be careful out there.”
A small smile graced your face before quickly disappearing from the thick tension all around the vicinity. “Always am. You too.”
“I mean it, princess. I need you back in one piece so I can marry you.”
You sucked in a breath. “W-what?”
“This wasn’t how I planned it but—” Hotch’s voice interrupted his ramblings. Reid. He turned and nodded once before returning his gaze back to your gobsmacked face. “—you did say to communicate right away so I love you and I want to marry you—” he squeezed your clammy hand into his. “—will you say yes?”
Reid. Another commanding voice coming from the unit chief.
Spencer smiled then before beginning his steps back to his position. It felt exhilarating to finally be the one throwing the curveball at you, no wonder you found joy in it—no matter how unconscious you were doing it. “I’ll hear your answer after, okay?”
“Oh, we’re so talking about this later.” you narrowed your eyes in return, taking steps to your opposite position. “Yes, Reid. See you later.”
Spencer looked down at his muddied sneakers, eyes gleaming from mirth and soul flying high unbound before taking a deep breath, schooling everything away and focusing all of him to catching these group of unsubs.
Maybe it wasn’t so bad not having everything go according to plan. After all, didn’t they usually say that the best things usually come when he’d least expect it? And you were the perfect definition of that phrase. His own beautiful disruptor and he wouldn’t have you in any other way.
Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#pau’s request inbox 💌#spencer reid fluff
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“POLKA DOTS AND MOONBEAMS”
steve rogers x male reader.
𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅 & 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓—headcanon [ 4.1k ] 〳 part one
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒—male reader 〳 domestic!au 〳 mid-century!era 〳 'roommates' 〳established relationship 〳 secret husband!steve 〳 mentions of period-homophobia 〳 brief quarreling 〳 sexual content: top!steve, bottom!reader, love-making, breeding, milking, praising, verbal, dirty talk, body worshiping, guidance.
𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑.
Secret Husband!Steve Rogers who coasted the city and was on a mission to find the best spaghetti and meatballs with you.
‣ "Verdict?"
‣ Steve's gaze looked right past the fork held before your lips, watching your mouth and expression twist and turn like the spaghetti noodles around the fork prongs prior.
‣ "It's good... not great. The sauce isn't as thick as I'd like for it to be... but it tastes fresh? Basil leaves adds a nice balance to the acidity... but the meatballs are a little overcooked. What do you think, Steve? I'm too picky, aren't I?"
‣ It was written all over your face. Satisfied, but not impressed.
‣ Unlike the last restaurant where you two had the misfortune of eating bloated pasta noodles and watery red sauce, this place was edible and especially generous with their serving.
‣ Decent, if Steve had the chance of writing a one-worded review for the paper.
‣ "You're not picky, just particular, but I agree. Red sauce is good—Padrino's still better. Meatballs are pretty tough, aren't they... but I do like the flavor of them. You can tell they used a fattier mixture compared to the rest. A lot of garlic too, which makes up for the lack of it in the sauce..."
‣ "Not as good as Mama's?"
‣ "The moment we find a spaghetti that's as good as your mother's, is the day we find a way to squeeze water from stone, (M/N)."
‣ "Don't mention that to her. I don't need her ego to be any more inflated than it already has been."
‣ Dates like these were never boring.
‣ No matter how many times Steve had watched your face wrench in disdain or light up in surprise, he always found it a joy to watch you participate in this arbitrary—now routinely—idea of critiquing spaghetti and meatballs so earnestly.
‣ To be fair, it wasn't like you two had a slew of options to make dates seem... more like dates.
‣ In fact, there shouldn't have been any options offered on the table in the first place.
‣ Any intimations that you and Steve were on a date would've been subject to a location change.
‣ Most likely, a candle-lit dinner in a jail-cell, dined over cold hard concrete, and Steve was sure the spaghetti and meatballs served there was going to clutch last place in his ranking.
‣ Though, Steve was hopeful that the romance would still be alive and well had it ever come to that point.
‣ You had a thing for restaurants with a gimmick.
‣ "Seven out of ten sounds about right?"
‣ "What about dessert? We can't leave without getting the tiramisu, Steve."
‣ "Since when did we factor in desserts for the scoring?"
‣ "What—since we started. Don't tell me you've been only ranking the spaghetti and meatballs... it's all about the experience, the... the je ne sais quoi—heard that on the radio once!"
‣ "The je ne sais quoi—this is why I wanted you to be the one logging everything down, (M/N)!"
‣ It took more of a toll on him than it did on you.
‣ Well, if it did, then you did a stunning job at maintaining your usual optimism.
‣ Whenever you two were out in public, Steve felt hammered by this distance pushing him apart.
‣ It was a conscious effort on both ends—a natural one that pertained to the business of being in a homosexual relationship
‣ Or just being a homosexual, period.
‣ Steve understood it. He abode it. And he hated it.
‣ Often, when the conversation between you and him would come to a slow, Steve would look right past your shoulder, right at the lucky couple who were in his sight-line—a gentleman with an impressive mustache and his lady—and simply stare.
‣ His thoughts wandered.
‣ The gentleman was unabashed in his public flirtations with the woman.
‣ Massaging her hands, tending to the aches in her knuckles with firm, but appeasing presses.
‣ The smell of his cigar was pervasive, but the lady didn't seem to mind. It seemed like she thought it was rather charming when he blew a smoke towards her face.
‣ One hand would run up her arms in several strokes, rough callous grinding down her goosebumps, and the man would compliment how soft and supple her skin was.
‣ The lady would bat her eyelashes, giggle at the man's public display of affection whilst also maintaining some sense of courtesy to halt his advances when a pair of curious eyes were enough to render her cheeks scarlet—like the lipstick she had worn for the evening.
‣ Steve hated this restraint. This lack of freedom that forced him to talk to you as if you were his co-worker.
‣ To look at you as if he had no affection for you whatsoever when that was further from the truth.
‣ To touch you as if you were an infection that could cost him his life, and him to yours.
‣ That wasn't completely off from what society thought of people like you and Steve, was it.
‣ "It's not nice to stare, Steve... quit it."
‣ "If I can't even look at my own lov—you, what else am I supposed to do?"
‣ "Steve—come on, not now. You know how it is. It's hard, I know. But... we can't just be cooped up in our pad and wear out its virtues. It's nice to go out every once in a while, even if—it has to be like this."
‣ "It's just not—fair. Maybe—maybe we can do something. It doesn't feel right if we're doing nothing about those bar raids too. They're increasing, you know? Becoming more violent and—"
‣ "Hush. People are staring to look."
‣ "Why do you seem completely fine with this? Hiding ourselves—"
‣ "Look, I don't like it as much as you do. Hell, it's killing me on the inside that I can't even smile at you like how it would naturally come. But I'm okay with hiding—because it's for my safety, and most importantly, for yours. I don't ask for much, but I've envisioned the near end of my life to be fulfilled and labored with no regrets. With a house where I can harvest my own apples from my own tree. With a lazy pup that knows better than to eat through my laces. All of that would be possible because I hid—no—because I endured. And I would heavily prefer it if you would join me in that life. Call me a coward, spineless, or selfish, but I don't want it to be our last, Steve. It's terrifying—to know that any day I could lose you to violence and persecution, myself included. So, please—just hold it out for longer—that's all I ask of you."
‣ Most of all, Steve hated that he was envious.
‣ He wished he could be the one wiping sauce stain off your lips.
‣ He wished that he could hold your hand over the table and stroke the ring on your finger that you could've kept on.
‣ He wished that he could stop the tears from welling in your eyes like he often did back at home.
‣ He wished that he could tell you that he loved you, either with a mouthful of meatballs or none at all, because in the end—it would've felt better than communicating those three words with three taps of his foot to your shin.
‣ You nearly reached over for his hand to calm him down, but pulled your back straight upon the fright of a passing waiter and opted for the cipher that was could only be cracked between you and Steve.
‣ Three gentle kicks to his shin, once more to his other leg, and Steve sighed for pardon, returning the cipher gently to your own shin.
‣ He wished he could openly compliment how handsome his husband looked tonight, ramble how grateful he was to have you in his life, or complain about how you kicked him a little too hard, but that was all well and fine because it meant that you were still present.
‣ Freedom—All of it, the positives and negatives, without the looming threat of a policeman pummeling you and Steve with a nightstick afterwards—because that was normal.
‣ Because that was life.
‣ A life that will pay in the long run.
‣ "Check, please."
𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐃𝐄.
Secret Husband!Steve Rogers who ambled the misty street of Brooklyn Heights with you, the night dew giving everything a hazy look as you and Steve passed through moist air, side-by-side.
‣ "I was brash tonight, Steve. I apologize."
‣ "No, no... you were right. If anything, I was being a fat head. I was out-of-line. I'm sorry."
‣ "You were right too, you know. It's not fair. It's not that I don't want to do anything about it, I really do. I just—it can't be the two of us tackling something bigger than us. Everyone is petrified, Steve."
‣ "I know... but if we somehow all come together in some kind of union, then maybe—we can call for a difference. Show them that enough is enough. Show them that fear is no longer something they can instill in us."
‣ "Like a rebellion or something?"
‣ "Well, if it has to come to that, then so be it."
‣ "You know a guy, don't you..."
‣ "I know a guy."
‣ "Is it Bucky?"
‣ "What—how'd you know?"
‣ "Steve, you only know one guy."
Secret Husband!Steve Rogers who was detoured into a dark alleyway between business building blocks. There was the droning sound sound of night, the low and humming resonant as the city had fallen asleep, all but two guests.
‣ "(M/N), what are we—"
‣ "All that quarreling made me forget to tell you how dashing you looked tonight. You know I especially like your hair combed back like that, Steve-o."
‣ He didn't need much of a hint as to what you were getting at.
‣ Squeezing in between a narrow passageway that would luckily only admit two bodies at a time, you and Steve were obscured from any wandering eyes.
‣ From judgement of the world.
‣ "Steve, you ought-ta listen to me more. Blue polka dots look darling on you."
‣ "If I recall correctly, you were the one who wanted me to wear a pink tie, darling."
‣ "Pink would've made me sauced my pants..."
‣ "You. Are. So. Vulgar."
‣ Shadows cast over his squashed body against yours, the moonlight only lighting the parts that mattered the most right now.
‣ The laughter that left your mouth after each peck Steve would grace you with.
‣ The lips that had him feeling withdrawal symptoms after an unbearable few hours of watching you lick sauce off your lips.
‣ The hand that tug Steve closer by his tie.
‣ The eyes that drew Steve in closer, until the tip of his nose touched yours.
‣ "Have I told you how much I love my cologne on you, darling?"
‣ "Have I told you how much I prefer your cologne rubbing off on me, as opposed to me spraying it on directly?"
‣ Slowly, breathing, pacifying; Steve's invisible stubble made your mouth twitch with a scratch, one of your many quirks he found himself silently obsessing over.
‣ And that was enough to push him over the edge, and finally kiss you like he'd wanted to since the evening had started.
‣ It was slow, almost careful like Steve was afraid of breaking you.
‣ Steve wasn't expecting this self-restraint from you. He wasn't expecting your hands on his jaw, tenderly massaging at either sides to keep your hands preoccupied while he slid his tongue alongside yours.
‣ He wasn't expecting to hear his own pulse because you were so stubborn in maintaining this control—you refused to summon urgency by vaulting your moans into the back of your throat.
‣ But Steve knew you more than he knew himself. He knew how you liked your eggs in the morning. He knew the perfect temperature for your bath. He knew you from the mole on your back, to the stance when you were impatient.
‣ He knew that if he led one of your hands right here—feeling the cusp of his growing bulge—that you'd give Steve what he wanted, and fall completely apart.
‣ And Steve knew that—by the eager palm of your hand, shoving into his unbuckled pants and groping—he was right.
‣ "Steve—just fuck me right here, yeah? I can't take it anymore."
‣ "Honey, we don't have any slick..."
‣ "Then give it to me raw. Use your spit. The rain. I don't care, I need you—"
‣ Your lips were warm and soft when Steve kissed you from rambling into the void again. His hands were against your stomach and chest, and your moans sent shivers down his spine.
‣ "Christ—turn around."
‣ Against the brick wall, teeth sinking into your forearm, you took Steve in without any regrets. Cold sweat breaking over your skin like evening dew collecting on window sills.
‣ "O-oh, fuck—slowly, Steve—"
‣ You could feel Steve's heart beat against your back, pushing further into you, huffing into your neck.
‣ "I love you."
‣ "I love you."
‣ From then on, you and Steve lived without any regrets.
𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍.
Secret Husband!Steve Rogers who relished every inch of your body; with his eyes, with his mouth, with his hands, with his body, with his being—until you found yourself transported wholly to all different kinds of sensations, and he'd repeat to discover new ones for you.
‣ "You're good at this, you know."
‣ "Humor me?"
‣ Steve was mouthing at your inner thigh, one hand stroking your leaking cock, and the other pumping his Vaseline-slicked fingers into you.
‣ He looked up from his eyelashes, teasing your sack with a lick.
‣ Another lick, because he liked being distracted by your body arching off the bed, crinkling the sheets in the process.
‣ "Good at loving me. You know what I want, what I need—just like that. Putting another finger into me without asking of me if you can. Twisting—fuck—turning me out, all based on how my body responds to you."
‣ "Well, it's not difficult to gauge what you need. Your nails dig into the sheets when it's too much. Your fingers and toes curl when the pleasure's coming in. Your hips roll—when you need more, or a new fix. I'm no magician you're making me out to be, (M/N).
‣ "You notice all of that? That's embarrassing... and here I thought I was being alluring..."
‣ Steve layered his thick cock in slick, capping the tin and tossing it to the bedside counter after.
‣ He teased your prepped rim, observing how the ring of muscle would catch a string of his pre-cum and latch onto it with a clench.
‣ At the sound of your moan, at the sight of you toying with your nipples, at the torn decision between preening—you knew that he liked the sight of you biting your lips—and ceasing his taunts.
‣ Steve's cock veins pulsed, his cock pleading for him to fill that delicious hole before him, otherwise it would live in agony for as long as it could leak.
‣ "I do, and it's not embarrassing. I love how you—mm—like that. I love how you immediately wrap your arms and legs around me when I finally push my cock inside of you.
‣ "Oh, Steve—"
‣ "I love how you call my name, just like that. Say it again."
‣ "Steve..!"
‣ He pressed his forehead against yours and groaned with you. His hips racketed off your ass in a slow, but increasing rhythm.
‣ You held onto him, hands over his neck, anchoring him close until the only way you could have your fix of air was through Steve's lips.
‣ Steve's mind was empty, except for the thought of your hot tongue roaming into his mouth and the swelling grasp your walls had around his loving cock.
‣ "Like that... I love how I can decipher every meaning behind the way you call out to me."
‣ "Fill me up so well, Steve—baby. Can feel you deep inside of me. Ruining me with your cock. Your balls slapping against me, God—Steve!"
‣ Your moans tasted delicious on his tongue. If they were seeds, they'd bloom colorful hybrids of fruits because your love for him couldn't be defined by one singular hue.
‣ You were an array of colors—a prism conjured by the way Steve loved you.
‣ Red, because you were gritting your teeth as Steve had you taking him balls-deep, filling you up to the brim, and stretching you to the shape of his pistoning cock.
‣ "Fuck me harder, Steve—"
‣ "You're taking me so well, darling..."
‣ "When have I not?"
‣ Orange, because Steve rendered you speechless except for a few gasps, with his cock grazing your prostate and his hand over your cock, stroking while kissing at your neck.
‣ "O-oh, fuck—oh, fuck!"
‣ Yellow, because you were on top, straddling Steve's lap and yielding to the nearing high that you both had been gauging.
‣ You took your sweet time to make love to Steve with your body. Hands braced on his chest, combing your fingers through the light hairs, deeply rocking back and forth on his cock after a couple of lighthearted bounces.
‣ You marveled over his well-built body, following the contours of his muscles with one hand while silently admiring his broad chest, perky nipples, and wide shoulders with your tongue.
‣ The smell of aftershave on him was infectious when you came up for a brief kiss. You kissed at his lips, then his chin, licking at the short blades of stubble before pulling away to preen again.
‣ Your back straightened and you spread your thighs apart for Steve to get a good look at how hard he was making you.
‣ Your cock throbbed, swollen a pronounced shade at the tip, bouncing to the rhythm of your hips, all while you devoted your mouth and tongue to Steve's thick fingers, suckling and laving your tongue over every digit, every vein, every knuckle—thanking him for opening you up so well with the slick of your saliva.
‣ Steve was absolutely keen on watching you worship him with one hand tucked behind his head, the other stroking your cock when he would finish appraising your body with a couple of fond strokes.
‣ "God, look at you. You're so beautiful. I could do this all day, watching you ride every vein on my cock..."
‣ Green, because you built up enough energy to reverse your straddle and take the lead for once. You wanted Steve to see all parts of your body, especially the asset that had been drawing out those glorious moans deep from his gut.
‣ You knew it was a pretty sight that would teeter Steve closer to the edge.
‣ Sweat ran over the plump mounds of your ass as you were propped up on your forearms, slamming down onto his thick cock.
‣ Skin rippled when your ass repeatedly hit his groin, and then prickled, when Steve grabbed a handful of your sweaty flesh out of pure enchantment before swatting it as a stimulus to your slowing hips.
‣ "How's the view?"
‣ "Stunning..."
‣ Blue, because your body was covered in shivers from the way Steve had captured you into his arms and pummeled icicles into you from behind.
‣ Kneeling upright, Steve had embraced you tightly, supporting your core with a flat palm while simultaneously engaging his, thrusting into you.
‣ His hand was around your throat to feel every vibration that would squeeze from your throat and then pour into his mouth like a saucer of milk as he swallowed your sweet moans.
‣ Like Steve's cock, his other hand was equally uncompromising. He squeezed into the pulsating veins of your cock, stroked your shaft, and teased your glans with a thumb.
‣ When you sank back into the dip of his hips, Steve would propel you forward with a strong thrust, forcing you to fuck his closed fist in midst as he held you from ever retreating back on all fours.
‣ He loved that dazed look on your face. Wide-eyed like a deer in headlights. Flushed like how you were abashed by his compliments to your novice cooking, yet only a hundred times worse.
‣ He also loved the way he had fucked you into being inarticulate, muttering a slurry of words—warnings of you coming soon, Steve would later learn after turning his ears up.
‣ "Steve, stop, stop—I'm going to c-come—seriously—"
‣ "Come for me, (M/N). I want to see you stain the bed. Want to see you come because of me. Only me. Want you to drench my fist and—Christ, there we go..."
‣ Violet, because you were red, and Steve was blue.
‣ You spilled heavily over his fist, shooting large, thick ropes of cum over the bed sheets. The sound of the cum splatters making your cheeks run hotter than the warmth drawing out of you.
‣ Each spurt shot further and further the harder Steve pounded into you and milked your orgasm with unrelenting strokes to your shaft.
‣ His thighs slapped into yours, resonating the bedroom with a sharp thunder that was sure to wake up the tenants.
‣ His cock punctuated deep into your guts, hard and sweet against your prostate.
‣ You cried out as Steve battered your insides with his cock, with his undying love for you. Biting into your shoulder to contain his groans, but Steve had enough of this restraint, of constantly holding himself back.
‣ He growled behind your ear, filtering out the resentment society had instilled in his body as he let his grunts loose, replacing that bitter feeling with the antithesis of knowing that he wanted to live life to the fullest.
‣ With a house that grew oranges alongside your apples.
‣ Steve thrusted harder.
‣ With an indifferent cat that couldn't care less about your torn shoelaces.
‣ Your moans hitched at the sharp snap of his hips, his cock digging somehow deeper into your guts when he pushed you lower into his groin.
‣ With a fulfilling life that was lived without regret.
‣ Steve felt himself come undone upon the last thrust. Every fiber of his muscle unraveling like pointe shoes after intense wear.
‣ He held you tight as he shuddered against your, his pulse anchored and soothed by the palm of your head on his cheek, stroking him affectionately.
‣ Silken white, he spilled his hot seed deep inside of you, weakly propagating the warmth from the outer rim of your raw, swollen hole, then to the deep depth of your walls and prostate, milking himself until he was jelly in the legs, until you were creamed, from inside and out, with his thick cock.
‣ You and Steve shared one more kiss, another breath, heaving and panting like you two had never kissed before, before his stance eventually gave out and made him collapse over your body.
‣ "Think—I might bump the restaurant earlier up a few spots, (M/N)..."
‣ "Why's that?"
‣ "Must've put some kind of aphrodisiac in that spaghetti... I'm deeply spent."
‣ "I disagree. It must've been that couple! I told you it was all about the experience—that je ne sais quoi that I've been talking—"
‣ "You really aren't going to stop saying that, are you?"
‣ "Shouldn't have fixed my radio if you knew you were going to be disappointed, Steve."
‣ "That's where you're wrong. If you think anything about you is disappointing to me, then I'm not being a great husband, am I?"
‣ "Well, look at you being all sappy tonight."
‣ "Too much?"
‣ "Never too much. I'm far too gone to ever think otherwise, Steve-o."
‣ "Me too, darling. Me too."
nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x male reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers headcanon#steve rogers fic#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers fanfic#nou.fics#x male reader#male reader insert#male reader#steve rogers smut#steve rogers#captain america
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Relationships in The Terror (2018) I think would have been fun to see explored onscreen if they'd had more than 10 episodes:
Gibson & Jopson (You and the coworker at your customer service job who is objectively annoying but also the only other gay person on staff, so I guess you're friends now)
Bridgens & Goodsir (I know you're not a proper doctor but I see that you are trying and you are full of so so so much love and care and we are the same in that way)
Peglar & Hickey (Hickey sees this friendly doe-eyed gayboy and assumes he'll be an easy mark, Peglar gently informs him that his husband is over on Erebus and he's not interested in mutiny, thank you very much)
Bridgens & Fitzjames (Fun fact: a steward can also be a father figure if your abandonment issues are bad enough!)
Jopson & Little (Joplittle girlies I am trying to understand your culture but this is one of the most Men Standing Beside Each Other ships I have ever seen)
Hickey & Darlington (I just want one scene where it's established that Hickey is kinda shit at his job and his boss hates him)
Fitzjames & Le Vesconte (I know they technically interact but c'mon I need more Dundy in my life)
Gibson & Hodgson (Okay this one I'm actually insane about. Hodgson who likes to think of himself as chill and friendly with the lower ranks vs Billy who wants this guy to shut up so he can do his job. Someone on Discord compared it to when customer service jobs make you wear a name tag - customers try to be friendly and address you by name, but it just feels jarring and a bit violating because of the inherent power differential. And then when their dynamic is swapped, when Billy is the Lieutenant to Hickey's Captain and Hodgson is a decorative piece of meat? Bro. And, like, Hodson ate the flesh of this man who had made his bed and shaved his face for the past 3 years. Did that affect him differently than if it had been a random AB? I'm losing my mind over here.)
Armitage & Tozer (he wants that Marine cock sooooooo bad god bless)
#the terror#the terror amc#billy gibson#thomas jopson#john bridgens#henry peglar#harry goodsir#cornelius hickey#james fitzjames#dundy le vesconte#george hodgson#tommy armitage#solomon tozer#armitozer
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Shadows And Sanctuary ~ LMH
⤜ WORD COUNT: 4.6K
⤜ PAIRING: Mafia!Minho x Fem!Reader
⤜GENRE: established relationships, anxiety, overprotective minho, sweet, cute, afraid to lose her WARNING: mentions of violence toward reader (not inflicted by minho!)
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - July 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
The late-night air was thick as you left work, your part of the city seemed to be experiencing one of the hottest summers known to man and leaving work in the middle of the night didn't even cool you down. The air was thick and hot, making it almost unbearable to breathe in and you almost regret turning your boyfriend's suggestion of taking you out for the week to get to a cooler climate. Your exhaustion from your shift weighed down on you as you headed through the streets toward your car trying to keep your thoughts on your nice long weekend with Minho.
You couldn't wait for it to just be the two of you locked up in his house just cuddling all weekend long. Not that anyone would ever believe that one of the highest-ranking mafia members in the city was as soft as he was but with you? Minho was practically a kitten in your hands rather than the jaguar he had to be out in the streets. You stared down into your bag as you searched through it to find your keys, something you should have done before you got outside. Minho was always telling you to make sure you had everything ready before you got to the car since you never really knew who was walking the streets late at night.
It was a miracle Minho even let you work as it was, he was always telling you how dangerous it was but you sometimes refused to listen to him. Assuming you were safe since the relationship between the two of you was mostly hidden behind closed doors. The only people who knew the two of you were a couple were a close group of his men and one person from work who had caught him waiting for you one night.
"Excuse me, Miss Yln?" Your head shot up from your bag and you glanced around you, turning to the source of the voice to see a man standing there. He had piercing blue eyes and an unsettlingly calm demeanour about him. He was dressed in a tailored suit and had a scar running down the left side of his cheek, setting alarm bells ringing inside of your mind.
"Yes?" You did your best to keep your voice steady with a hint of confidence behind it. The man took a step closer, his eyes never leaving you as he smiled at you, but it did nothing to ease the uneasy feeling you had growing in the pit of your stomach.
"My name is Rhysand Kovac, I believe you might know my name." Your heart pounded in your chest. Minho had mentioned Rhysand a bunch of times, always tense conversations and moments of dread whenever he was brought up and you could feel your stomach sinking. What was he even doing here? Your relationship was a secret, for this reason, you didn't want to risk anybody finding you.
"I have," You managed to say, taking a small step back away from him. Rhysand smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes but you bumped into a man's chest as you stared up to see a bald man staring down at you leaving you completely trapped.
"That saves us a bunch of time then," He chuckles deeply as he looks at you, his hands shoved into his pockets as you stare at him, wishing you'd taken Minho's offer on having a guard with you.
"You see, your boyfriend has left me in a bit of a predicament. He's been causing trouble for me and my associates and I need to get his attention and send a message." Your mouth went dry as you shook your head trying to think of a way to get out of this.
"I'm just a nurse, okay? I don't know anything about anybody's business." You lied but Rhysands expression hardened as he closed the distance between you and him within two strides, his hand gripping onto your arm with such force you knew it was going to bruise.
"I believe you dear, but it's not about what you know." He grumbles at you, his face turning red with anger, his grip tightening so much you are beginning to lose feeling in your arm.
"It's about what you mean to him," He says through gritted teeth, his eyes burning into yours as you whimper at him,
"Please...Please, let me go. I haven't done anything to you," You cried out, doing your best to stay as calm as possible but it was practically impossible now he was holding you in his grip. Rhysand took a deep breath as he leaned in closer, nuzzling his head in your neck.
"You're right, you haven't. But Minho has, and you?" A devilish smirk takes over his face as he stares down at you. He'd been planning this for weeks, watching you, making sure you had no guards at any point and making sure to get your shift schedule from the hospital.
"You're going to make sure he understands the consequences of his actions," Your mind screamed for you to fight, to kick, scream, bite, punch, anything but you couldn't move, completely frozen in place with his grip on your unyielding as you let out a small whimper of discomfort.
"What do you want from me?!" You asked, your voice trembling and it didn't go unnoticed by Rhysand who was smirking and letting out a deep chuckle.
"I need you to give Minho a message," He said, his tone cold and final as he stared down at you,
"If he doesn't comply with my demands, you'll be the one to pay the price," The hand that wasn't gripping you reached up and he cupped your face in his hand, running his thumb over your skin.
"And believe me, I always make good on my threats." With that, he let you go, stepping back as his eyes bored into yours and you felt your stomach churning.
"Now, run and tell him, I'm always watching kitten." The nickname Minho used for you tasted like acid coming from him and you fumbled to unlock your car, slamming and locking the door.
Your hands were shaking so badly you could hardly get the keys into the ignition before you sped off, glancing in the mirror to see Rhysand still standing there, his eyes still on you as he watched you drive off with a calculating expression on his face.
Tears blurred your vision as you navigated the streets, your mind a whirlwind of fear and worry, you knew the way to Minho's like the back of your hand and you didn't care how many traffic laws you broke in order to get there in a hurry.
Minho was practically yawning during the meeting he was having, surrounded by some of his men as they discussed strategies for territorial disputes. To be completely honest, Minho was mostly drowning it all out, looking forward to when you'd eventually come back and meet with him so he could unwind at the weekend.
Never in a million years would he have thought he'd find someone like you, someone who he wanted to take time off work for and spend hours with, forgetting everything around him.
"Changbin you need to tighten security on the east side. The shipments next week are due and I don't want any mishaps like the last time," He grumbled, his voice commanding. As he was about to say something else the door to his office burst open, slamming against the wall and knocking a painting from it. Guns all aimed in your direction as you stared at Minho, tears running down your face.
"Minho!" you cried out, your voice breaking. Minho shot to his feet, the chair knocking over in the process, he'd never seen you so distraught before.
"Yn?" His voice was mixed with concern and shock as he saw you. You'd never burst into his office before, you'd never even walked into the home unannounced.
"If you don't put your guns away I will personally shoot all of you!" He boomed before the men filed their guns away and he moved around the table, bringing you into his arms.
All of Minho's men watched you in stunned silence as you crashed into his arms, your head hiding in his arms.
"He-He was there, he threatened me," you managed to stumble the words out through your sobs but Minho held your body close to his,
"Who, Yn? Who threatened you?" He did his best to keep his voice soft with you, not wanting to scare you anymore than you clearly were. His men all watched closely as they waited for you to answer, some of them ready to jump into action the second a name was uttered from your lips. Minho slowly tilted your chin to look at him, his eyes searching yours as you let fresh tears spill down your cheeks.
"Rhysand." You whispered, your voice trembling almost as though you were scared to speak his name into the universe.
"Rhysand Kovac. He waited...outside the hospital and he said-" You sighed a little as you willed yourself not to cry, to at least get the words out before you broke down again.
"If you don't comply with his demands...it'll be me that pays the price," The room went deathly quiet, the only that could be heard were the men getting ready to kill on their boss's command.
"Did he hurt you?" Minho's voice remained eerily calm and you looked at your arm,
"He hurt my arm...Minho, I'm scared," There was a little shame in your voice as you admitted it and Minho took a deep breath, his mind racing on where to even begin with it. Over his shoulder his men were assembled, their expressions ranging from concern to barely concealed anger.
"Say the word, boss," Changbin told him, holding his gun in his hand and Minho bit his cheek. As badly as he wanted to retaliate he knew he needed to think with a clear mind.
"Meetings over, get out." He bit out harshly, his men filing out of the room throwing you a worried glance as they walked past you.
Once they were gone, Minho led you over to the sofa inside of the room and sat down beside you, bringing you into his arms again as you began to cry against his chest.
"Shh, it's okay." His whispers, kissing the top of your head as he gently rubs his arms up and down your back,
"I'm not going to let anything happen to you," He promised as you clung to him, your body trembling as you stared at the wall.
"He knew me...He knew my name, where to find me...What are we gonna do?" You whispered as you finally pulled back from his embrace, your eyes finding his as he closed his eyes for a second. His mind was flooded with thoughts, everything he wanted to do. The image of Rhysands cold, calculating eyes burned into his memory.
"I'll take care of it." his voice was steady despite his anger and you watched him closely. You'd never wanted to know what his plans were, since staying out of it was always better but this time you wanted to know what he planned.
"I promise, I won't let anything happen to you," He presses a kiss to your head as you cuddle into him. The fear of losing you twisted like a knife in his cut, he wasn't going to let Rhysand win.
"From now on, you're never alone. I'll have my best men watching you, protecting you. And I'll deal with that scumbag, I'll make sure he regrets ever even thinking of touching you." You nodded your head, your trust in him unwavering,
"Okay...Just be careful," you begged as he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours softly.
"I promise." He whispered, holding your hand as you cuddled closer to him, your mind returning to that dark place where you saw Rhysand but Minho's was already coming up with a way to destroy him.
It had almost been a week since your run-in with Rhys and it was safe to say you were starting to feel exhausted from looking over your shoulder. Every moment you expected him to come for you, to break through your armed guards and do something but nothing ever happened.
You sat in the window of the hospital break room and stared down at the city. Ever since the encounter Minho had insisted on showing protection, assigning ten of his men to be with you at all times. It felt suffocating at times, everywhere you turned there were guards, outside your apartment, following you to work, even outside the hospital during your shifts. You knew Minho meant well but the constant presence of his men was a dreadful reminder as to why they were there. Sighing a little you began to make your way to go and see some of your patients, the guards following you closely.
"Can you get Minho here? Please," You begged as you stared down at one of his men, his eyes cold as he stared back at you, reaching for his phone and calling his boss instantly.
Minho made his way to the hospital, determined to see you after you'd practically begged his men to get him there. As he entered your office, he was met with a concerned look from you Patients were asking you to be taken off their cases and you were almost down to none.
“Min, this is too much,” you said softly, running your hands over your face.
“I can’t breathe with all these men around me all the time. I know you’re trying to keep me safe, but…” Minho crossed the room and took your hands in his, he knew it was probably too much but he couldn't breathe if it meant leaving you unprotected. The thought of something happening to you was clouding his mind and he couldn't focus on anything. Every night he went to sleep his mind was filled with nightmares about something happening to you.
“Baby, I can’t lose you,” he said, his voice filled with a desperation that mirrored his nightmares, images of you killed in a million different ways flashed in his mind.
“I keep seeing you in danger, and it’s driving me insane. I just want to make sure you’re safe.” You'd heard about his nightmares, you'd been there when he had them but it didn't make it easier for you. You squeezed his hands, your eyes softening.
“I know, Min. I know you’re scared. But this isn’t the way. We need to find a balance. I can’t live in fear, and neither can you.” Minho nodded, taking a deep breath as he tried to steady his thoughts. There had to be a space between 10 men watching you that he could use.
“You’re right. I just… I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.” His face scrunched together and you reached up and cupped his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. While you were terrified of Rhysand you couldn't live every day around so many men, you needed some space.
“We’ll figure it out together,” You said firmly, your eyes filled with promise as you watched him closely.
“But you have to trust that we can get through this. You can’t protect me from everything, babe. And that’s okay.” He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if to ward off the lingering fears from his nightmare.
“I love you, Yn,” he whispered into your hair, his arms tightening around you.
“I’ll find a way to make this right. I promise.” His men had been searching for Rhysand ever since the night he'd grabbed you but it was like he'd gone off the radar and disappeared completely.
"I'll find him and end this." He promises, his words said with such confidence you truly believe him.
The hospital was unusually quiet that night as you walked through the halls that night, you'd picked up extra shifts needing the money and you were starting to wish you hadn't. You moved through the dimly lit corridors, your footsteps echoing softly on the polished floors. Most of the patients were asleep, and the usual hustle and bustle had settled into an eerie calm. Despite the quiet, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over you.
You made your way to the nurses' station, where a couple of your colleagues were finishing up paperwork as they glanced up at you. They exchanged tired smiles and small talk, but your mind was elsewhere, replaying the events of the past few days. Minho had reluctantly scaled back the number of guards at the hospital, allowing you some semblance of normalcy, but tonight you felt their absence acutely. You only had the one guard now who had gone out to go and get you something to eat, leaving you alone and unprotected.
"Yn, can you check on Mr Thompson in Room 312? He requested some water," one of the nurses asked as you tiredly nodded your head, trying to shake the uneasy feeling from you. The hospital was supposed to the a safe space, it wasn't as though Rhysand could walk right through the door.
"Sure, no problem," You whispered your reply forcing a smile as you picked up a water pitcher and a cup. You walked down the hallway, the lights flickering slightly as you passed not easing the feeling you had in the pit of your stomach. When you reached Room 312, you knocked gently before pushing the door open. The room was dimly lit, and for a moment, it seemed empty, the curtain was pulled around the bed inside of the room.
"Mr. Thompson?" You called out softly, stepping further inside frowning when you had no response. The door clicked shut behind you, and you spun around to find herself face-to-face with Rhysand. He stood by the door, his eyes cold and calculating, a sinister smile playing on his lips.
"Good evening, Yn," Rhysand said, his voice smooth and menacing. Your heart raced, fear gripping you as you instinctively stepped back, the water pitcher slipping from your hands and shattering on the floor, splashing up your legs and cutting your skin a little.
"What are you doing here?" You demanded, your voice trembling as you looked at him, fumbling behind you for the nurse's button. Rhysand merely smirked at you and took a step forward, his presence dominating the small room.
"I came to deliver a message," he said calmly.
"Minho seems to have misunderstood my previous warning. I thought a more personal touch might be necessary." Your mind raced, trying to think of a way out. You glanced towards the emergency call button on the wall, but Rhysand noticed and shook his head, tutting at you.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said, his smile widening. "You see, I can be quite persuasive."
"What do you want?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady, you knew it wouldn't be long until your guard came back to find you missing and you prayed he'd find you quickly.
"I want Minho to understand that he cannot defy me without consequences," He replied, his tone darkening. "And you, my dear, are the perfect leverage." He reached his hand out, running his hand over your cheek and smirking down at you. You felt a wave of anger hit you.
"Minho will never give in to you," You said defiantly, your eyes burning into his. "You’re wasting your time."
"Call him," He says through gritted teeth, reaching for the knife in his pocket as he holds it up to your neck, way past the point of playing nice with you.
"I SAID CALL HIM!" He screamed, you flinched reaching for your phone in your pocket. Your hands shook as you dialled Minho's number, your stomach sinking as you felt the cold blade of the knife on your throat. It rang once, twice, and then his voice came through, filled with concern.
"Yn? Are you okay?" He asked, sensing your distress immediately.
"Minho, he's here. Rhysand is here and he's holding-," You were cut off by the cold knife,
"A knife to her pretty little throat, I suggest you get down here before I cut her into tiny little pieces, Minho." Was all Rhysand said before smashing your phone onto the wall, your eyes meeting Rhysands as you felt tears slipping from your eyes?
The hospital corridors were eerily silent as Minho hurried through them, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and anger, God it felt like it had taken him years to get here. Your frantic phone call still echoed in his mind, replaying in his mind over and over again.
As he neared the room where you had been. Panic surged through him, but he forced himself to stay focused. He moved quickly, silently, towards the room.
The door was slightly ajar, and through the crack, he could see Rhysand standing inside, holding you against the wall with a knife to your throat. Your eyes were wide with terror, your breaths coming out in nothing but shallow gasps, Minho felt his stomach churn at the thought of you completely unprotected in there.
“Every time you try to leave, I’ll make sure you regret it,” Rhysand snarled, pressing the blade closer to your skin but not quite breaking it yet. Minho felt a cold fury rise within him. He couldn’t let this happen. He had to act quickly, decisively. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open with a swift kick, his gun drawn and aimed at Rhysand who tightened his hold on you.
“Let her go, Rhysand,” Minho ordered, his voice deadly calm as he stared over at you both, his eyes flicking over at you to make sure you were okay. Rhysand glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing as he saw Minho.
“Ah, Minho!” he said with a twisted smile, your stomach twisting as you glanced to see your boyfriend holding the gun.
“Just in time. I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show up.”
“Step away from her,” Minho growled, taking a step forward.
“Now.” Rhysand grip on the knife tightened, and he pressed it harder against your throat, making you wince and let out a small whimper, pleading with Minho to help you.
“One more step, and she dies,” he warned. “Do you really want to test me?” He growled out. Minho's eyes flicked to yours, filled with fear and pleading with him. He had to be careful, and precise.
“You won’t get out of here alive if you hurt her,” He said, his voice low and threatening, if he killed you Minho would torture him, painfully, dragging it on for weeks.
“Think about it, Rhysand. There’s no escape for you.” Rhysand only laughed a cold, bitter sound.
“You think I care about escape? This is about making you suffer. Watching you lose the one thing you care about.” He said as he traced the knife over your face, a small cut forming on the left side of your cheek as he smirked. Minho's hand tightened around his gun.
“Yn, close your eyes,” he said softly. your eyes widened as you realised what he was going to do, you had complete faith in him but it didn't stop you from being scared. Slowly you closed your eyes, your body trembling.
In one swift motion, Minho fired his gun. The shot echoed loudly in the small room making your head pulse and your heart beat rapidly. Rhysand staggered back, a look of shock on his face as he dropped the knife, you heard the clatter and kicked it away from you, turning to see Rhysand. He clutched his chest where the bullet had hit, blood spreading rapidly across his shirt. The nurse inside of you wanted to reach out but you remembered what he'd done to you and Minho. Minho rushed forward, catching you as you stumbled away from Rhysand. He held you tightly, his heart pounding with relief.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s over.” He whispered, cradling you closer to him. Rhysand fell to the floor, gasping for breath. His eyes met Minho's one last time, filled with hatred and disbelief.
“You…you’ll never be safe,” he choked out before the light faded from his eyes. Minho didn’t even spare him another glance. All his attention was on you, as you shook in his arms.
“Are you okay?!" He panicked, running his fingers over the small cut on your cheek, you leant into his touch and whimpered,
"I was so scared, Minho. I thought... I thought he was going to—" You couldn't get the words out as bile rushed to your throat, Minho wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest.
"Shh, it's over," He murmured, stroking her back softly, his heart racing.
"He can’t hurt you anymore. I promise you’re safe now." He held you close to him, feeling the tension slowly drain from your body as you cried against him. The fear that had gripped him since Rhysand's first threat began to fade, replaced by a fierce determination to protect you at all costs. There was no chance he was going to let anything happen to you ever again.
Minho guided you out of the room, keeping you close as they made their way through the hospital. His men were already moving through the building, ensuring there were no more threats but you couldn't take your eyes off Minho.
As you reached the entrance, he turned to his most trusted lieutenant, Changbin.
“Get Yn home, and make sure she’s safe,” he ordered. “I have some things to wrap up here.” He glanced back at the hospital and Changbin nodded but you hadn't moved yet. Your arm was still wrapped with Minho's
“Min, please be careful,” You said softly, almost too scared to be away from him again but he nodded his head, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead,.
“I will be,” He promised. “I’ll see you at home.” He whispered before Chagnbin led you back to the car.
A Year Later*
The early morning sun filtered through the curtains, making you stir and whimper a little in your sleep, your eyes fluttering open to the sound of birds chirping outside the window. For a moment, you simply lay there, savouring the peace and quiet. It had been a long journey to reach this point. But a gentle kiss on your forehead made you smile. You turned to see Minho lying beside you,
"Good morning," he murmured, his voice soft and tender, as you cuddled into his chest.
"Good morning," you replied, your heart swelling with happiness.
"Do you have to go into the office today?" You asked, snuggling closer to him not wanting him to leave you alone again. Minho chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your cheek,
"Not today. Today, I'm all yours." Your smile widened. The two of you had both worked hard to carve out moments like these, moments of normalcy and peace. You'd quit working at the hospital after the incident and mostly stayed at home, patching up any of his men who needed some help with wounds.
"I was thinking," Minho said, his tone becoming more serious. "Maybe it's time we took that trip we’ve been talking about. Just the two of us. Somewhere far away from all of this." He gestured around his room and your eyes widened a little
"Where were you thinking?" You ask, cuddling into him as you both begin to dream of your holiday destination, just enjoying the calm of being together.
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#skz#skz x reader#skz imagine#skz imagines#stray kids#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagines#lee minho#minho#minho x reader#minho imagine#minho imagines#lee know#lee know x reader#lee know imagine#lee know imagines#lee minho x reader#lee minho imagine#lee minho imagines
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Academic Rivals! Viktor x Reader
Academy Student!Viktor x gn!Reader
Here's my take on this idea that has been rumbling around my brain especially with all the new viktor fics ( yall are doing the lords work)
not proof read + a lot longer than I thought it would be, sorry lmao
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You were the Academy's top student known to be the top of the class with the highest scores always exceeding expectations.
Your creative thinking and problem solving is what normally got you the spotlight of attention within academia.
Naturally after spending your first two years of the Academy eating up the attention and receiving offers from multiple elite members of society, industry and government certainly made your resume/reputation an intimidating one.
Your peers knew you to be competitive and ambitious wanting to be the one to set the curve; extensive research projects, etc.
This did however make you a poor teammate with your passionate ideas that one of them could dream of keeping up with you. Plus you would steal the leadership role from them to implement the changes you'd want.
You had gotten used to pattern created for you with a bright future ahead.
Even if you were getting kind of bored of knowing that your worst idea would still allow you to keep your rank.
Then all the sudden a new student joins the Academy
It didn't bother you much until you started seeing a drop in your scores and ranking thus creating a rivalry with this mysterious student.
It was not until you and Viktor shared a class that you realized who your academic opponent was
Thus starting a new chapter of your academic career with renewed passion upon knowing there was finally someone that could equal you in skill.
Fighting for everything within the academic realm that was available
Now neither of you had ever officially been introduced or carried a proper conversation instead replacing regular communication with pointed looks of smugness or confidence.
You would have angry fits in private realizing the margin that you had lost to Viktor
Long days and nights spent gaining a potential advantage over your rival.
Your friends would point out how you would almost pop a vein just describing the way that he would "usurp the first place on an exam all because of a technicality"
Honestly when you would get really into it you were sure that you hated this guy: coming out of nowhere with no prior history and just takes over everything you have worked hard to establish.
Who does he think he is????
Now all your professors, namely Himerdinger paid close attention to this rivalry. It's entertaining watching your top 2 students hash it out and creating things they would not have without this push.
Himerdinger seeing how honed in your other skills were decided to create a project for the class specifically targeting you both.
A partnered project
One that could not change neither the topic, the partner or the day that it was to be presented; everything set in stone.
" Learning the skills needed in a lab is one thing but the most important and impactful discoveries have always been those created through teamwork." Himerdinger would share one fateful day as he put up the paper listing the groups.
It did not even cross your mind that you would have been paired with Viktor and after looking at the poster turned around a looked at him.
Viktor was still sitting in his front row seat in the lecture room patiently waiting for the crowd to dissipate before getting up to look at the paper.
He continued to wrap up whatever notes he had taken as you step up to him.
"We are assigned partners for this project." you say very matter a factly.
Viktor looks up to you with a small smile," Well then, we should set up times to work on the project together. What times work best for you?"
You were taken aback by his nonchalance.
Did he really not care that he was partnered with you? Did he not see you as significant enough to mention the obvious tension? Did he not even see you as a rival but a regular student below him???
After a short pause you share what time you are normally at the library.
As you share the details he finished packing up his stuff.
Looking back up to with another slightly bigger smile (what is his game???) " I'll see you then. Tomorrow at table four."
With that he leans on his cane and leaves you in the quiet empty classroom to deliberate your next moves.
That night you started working on the project creating multiple schemes, ideas, and conceptual ideas that could be used for the project put forth.
You went to bed hoping to finally force him to recognize you as the rival that you were as he seemed so dismissive before.
You showed up to the library at the arranged time to see Viktor sitting peacefully at a study table thumbing through multiple volumes seemingly looking for a specific piece of information.
"Good Morning." you started as you walked up to him.
Without even looking up he returns the same early day greeting and places yet another volume aside and opening a new one.
Raising an eyebrow that the attitude you place your things on the other side of the table.
"I was thinking last night about this project and had written down some ideas that I believe that we should pick from as our approach." you open the discussion with no changed behavior from your supposed teammate.
You continue, " I have already taken the liberty to research them, for your convenience, and have supplied preliminary data for each one. Honestly any of these would resolve the problem raised by our projects prompt with their main difference being how creative you wanted to get with it."
Viktor has created yet another pile of abandoned books that didn't meet his mysterious criteria all the while not regarding you properly.
Your felt your self becoming more warmer as you felt the irritation pool into the oil pit of anger you have created surrounding him.
"It's considered polite to respond or at the very least acknowledge when someone is talking to you. Or are you so focused on your book hunt you aren't ever looking at the person you are supposed to be completing this project with."
Viktor sighs putting the book currently in his possession down and looks up to you.
"It was not my intention to be rude I am just looking for a specific volume that has a unique perspective on the concept we learned a week ago but the title is slipping my mind."
Sighing you sit down and observe the collection of books created on the table.
"I'm going to go on a limb here and assume that you only really remember that the color of the book was dark blue?"
Viktor chuckled," Observant and yes I am."
"Well you aren't going to find it in the library considering there is only one copy of it. That author's take was considered almost heretic."
"Ah, so you are familiar with the book I am referencing?"
"It would be strange if I didn't considering that I brought it with me to our meeting. I checked it out a week ago because it piqued my interest and also happened to align with this assignment."
You hold it out over the table as Viktor sighs again running a hand through his hair.
The meeting ended up going on for longer than expected.
You were surprised to find that he has a similar perspective to yours and understood your vision from the multiple proposals that you had created.
Further analysis showed some minor flaws that would otherwise be overlooked by other people; but neither of you too were not going to settle for anything less than perfection.
The more that the two of you poured over ideas, equations, concepts, and plans until you came up with a path that pleased you both with only one variable that needing some testing.
Viktor offered to go his smaller private study that he had already set up a similar experiment (he was also trying ideas out the night before)
Walking side by side down the hallways was a strange feeling.
Not because you were walking slower that your default rushed walking pace but because this person that you had, honestly, really hated and rationalized that was cheating somehow....wasn't.
You hated to admit it as you continued to listen to his rambling on of the missing component that they needed to figure out.
(Shit...he is actually just naturally brilliant)
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part 1 | part 2 >
#arcane viktor#viktor arcane#arcane x reader#viktor x reader#viktor x gn!reader#viktor fluff#arcane imagines#arcane league of legends#viktor lol#viktor drabble
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Hello! You commented on my post about my dream request so here it goes...
Pro Hero! Dynamite is dating Underground Pro Hero! Y/N. He doesn't know she's a hero, doesn’t even know she has a quirk. She has a "job" where she can travel a lot; a model for Mitsuki & Masura (they know, because parent instincts). Anyway, YN gets sent on a lot of missions with Pro Hero! Deku since he's one of the few who likes working with everybody. Dynamite sees how close they are and is seething, and end ups turning it into a huge fight.
(i woke up at this point but pls make it comfort if you can)
thank you in advance!!🫶🏾🫶🏾
A/N: Idk if this is what you wanted but I loved this prompt so much!! Big thanks to @zanarkandskylines for beta reading and editing this I owe you so much 😭 Here's my masterlist!
Warning(s): f!reader, Katsuki and reader are dating. and they live together, reader is an underground pro hero with a pre-established quirk, mentions of blood, Katsuki thinks reader is cheating on him with Deku, angst to fluff, characters might be a little ooc, mentions of passing out, reader cries a lot, Katsuki does too, Katsuki almost kicks reader out, cursing, Katsuki calls reader princess.
Pairing: Pro Hero! Bakugou Katsuki x Underground Pro Hero! Reader
•─────•°•❀•°•──── ɢᴏᴏᴅɴɪɢʜᴛ ────•°•☁︎•°•────•
Shit.
Pain flares up in your abdomen as you try not to think about the blood gushing out of your side, as the taste of iron lines your taste buds, making you want to vomit.
You were on a mission with your close friend and pro hero, Deku, who you consider a friend till the end after endless mission assignments together. Your quirk, Rays, allowed you to control the lighting of any setting you were in- even if it were bright outside, you could plunge anything within a 100-mile radius into complete darkness if you chose to do. Along with that, you could illuminate anything within the same distance in the middle of the night. Your eyes would change colors while your quirk was active, growing lighter and darker with the lighting around you- a feature that allowed you to be hired as a model for Jiyū, a clothing company owned by renowned clothing designers, Mitsuki and Masaru Bakugou. They joked that that lighting always favored you during photoshoots, capturing your eyes in such an alluring way that it was almost like you were the one who made the clothing look exceptional. They’d often drop hints that you would, in fact, be a perfect fit for their hotheaded son. You’d laugh at their insistence, waving off their jokes. They never would guess the reason behind your choice of career path, especially as a secret pro hero.
You were an underground Pro Hero by the name of Sola – specializing in espionage and stealth, a major asset to Pro Hero Deku as you balanced his brute force with elegance and mobility. You loved your job, not ever having to need to be prominent on the Hero charts and found your reward through the knowledge that you were helping others. It was silly, you thought, to sneak around with a secret identity like all the books you read, unlike the Pro Heroes you knew that basked in attention. And even though you didn’t need people fawning over you 24/7, you still had one issue with all the secrecy.
That being your boyfriend, Katsuki Bakugou.
You loved him with your entire heart, and more, as he did you. The both of you got together a few months after the explosive blonde had graduated from UA, your relationship blowing up the tabloids with a bang as he climbed the hero rankings.
You trusted him with your life, and he trusted you with his heart, and yet you couldn’t tell him about your job as an underground pro hero.
This was one of the reasons why.
You hid behind a pillar in the abandoned warehouse you had caught a drug network alongside Pro Hero Deku. The both of you were tracking the pricks for months, coming home late every night with a new excuse to tell Katsuki. You knew it would burden him with worry, choosing to keep your secret hero identity just that - a secret, even from Katsuki. He couldn't worry about you when he had his own job as a Pro Hero to worry about.
Not to mention he wasn’t exactly on the best terms with the greenette you worked with constantly.
The fight ensued, you heard Deku’s grunts and the cracks of bones, no doubt his One for All in usage. You manipulated the light around him, effectively blinding your opponents while giving your partner the advantage of sight.
You were losing blood at a rapid pace, head becoming fuzzy as your body slumps to the floor, giving into the exhaustion from overuse of your quirk.
The last thing you heard before the world turned black was Deku’s triumphant call for you, reporting that all the villains were restrained.
When you woke up, you were in Izuku’s apartment, head hazy and your temples throbbed like they were being stabbed repeatedly by blunt needles.
You got up without a word, thanking Izuku for his hospitality before leaving to go home, brushing off his concerns and walking out his front door.
Anxiety gnawed at you on the taxi ride home, subconsciously fiddling with your shirt to make sure your bandages weren’t visible, and praying to whatever deity was watching over you that Katsuki wouldn’t notice.
You reached your apartment complex, taking a deep breath and settling for a somewhat content look, before inserting your keys into the lock and opening the door, basking in the familiar warmth of your shared home.
Spotting Katsuki at the kitchen stove, you creep up to him and wrap your arms around his waist, to which he stiffens, but you don’t think much of it as you tighten your arms around him.
“I’m home!” You sing, smushing your cheek against him but he says nothing.
Worry works its way through your mind, wondering why he wasn’t responding, until his gruff voice snaps you back into focus.
“Where were you.” he says, phrasing it like a statement, not a question.
Your heart drops into the pit of your stomach- does he know? Did Izuku tell him?
Wh-what?” A nervous laugh escapes you. Had you been caught? “I told you, I was in the US -”
“Cut the bullshit.” he snaps, and you let go of him – you can physically feel your heart snap in two. “Where. were. you."
“I...” you trail off, the words caught in your throat, willing the tears that threatened to spill not to fall.
You both stand there, wordless, staring at his eyes, full of pain.
“You never even loved me, did you?” he says, voice cracking full of emotion, your eyes widening.
“Katsuki no- I" You try to explain, but he cuts you off, the pounding in your head returning with the new rush of emotions.
“Just stop. Please. Leave and never come back.” He spits out, tears finally dripping down his face. “Go fucking be happy with shitty Deku because obviously he’s a better fucking boyfriend than me.”
He thought you were cheating on him. Those late nights coming home, prolonged trips without explanation- god you were so stupid.
You rush towards him, mind racing as you try to explain, try to fix things. You couldn’t lose him, you couldn’t- it would destroy you in ways unimaginable.
And yet, he pushed you away forcefully, making you cry out in pain as he contacts your wound in your side.
He almost stops breathing when he sees the blood, your blood, on his hands.
You panic, and he grabs you by the shoulders, lifting your shirt up to reveal the bandage wrapped around your torso that the blood managed to seep through.
“Kats-”
“Who fucking hurt you.” he growls, low and feral- all resentment from the previous conversation melting away with the realization that you weren’t with Deku – or at least in the way he thought.
“I’m an Underground Pro Hero.” You whisper, a desperate attempt to mask your feelings as you curl into yourself. You can’t risk looking up at Katsuki and seeing his reaction.
“You what- fuck, you have a quirk?!” He looks at you, eyes wide.
You nod hesitantly, his vermilion stare meeting your own, attempting to assess what else you could be hiding from him.
“I wasn’t allowed to tell you- the Commision wouldn’t let me, I wanted to tell you so bad Katsuki, but I knew you had so much on your plate, and I didn’t want to bother you, and-” you break down, Katsuki cutting you off as he encircles you in his arms, consoling you silently, letting your distraught form melt into his embrace.
Heaving sobs turned into choking cries, which dwindled into sniffles that lead to silence. You’d drifted off, cried yourself into a sleepy daze while he carefully cradled you in the kitchen. His own guilt ate away at him- he understood your situation, the Commission was as unsympathetic to a hero’s situation as the League was to anything. But it still hurt, that stupid Deku knew about your status as a Pro Hero before he did. He shook his head, dispersing his feelings. He hated himself for his words, for assuming the worst and thinking you were capable of doing something so low. Running his fingertips over your bandages gingerly, a pang of worry struck through him. He wiped the tears off his face, and then yours, lifting your sleeping form and headed for your bedroom.
Right now, he needed to take care of you.
Changing you out of your clothes, he settles you into one of your favorite worn out shirts of his, tucking you into bed before getting ready to sleep himself.
He joins you in bed, heaving a shaky breath after everything, wrapping his arms around you, one hand placed on the back of your head and the other on the small of your back, holding you against his chest like you were made of porcelain - too scared to let you go, but scared of breaking you, too.
“Goodnight, princess.”
#―✧˖° 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖍𝖆𝖘 𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖕𝖔𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖉 ♛ °˖✧―#katsuki bakugou x reader#bnha bakugou#bakugou katsuki#bakugo#bakugo fluff#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugo x you#bakugo x reader#bakugou fluff#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugou x you#katsuki bakugo x reader#mha bakugo x reader#mha bakugou#bakugou drabble#katsuki x reader#bnha bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo mha#katsuki bakugou#katsuki bakugo#bakugo x y/n#katsuki bakugou x you#katsuki x you#katsuki x y/n#katsuki bakugo fluff#⋆。‧˚ʚ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖑𝖔𝖚𝖉 𝖆𝖗𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖘 ɞ˚‧。⋆
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BSD! Men x Reader Children?
Pairings: Chuuya, Poe, Jouno, Tetchou, Fyodor x reader
Female reader
Established relationships
Warnings: smut, clique scenario? Some religious themes (when it comes to Fyodor), not proofread
Overall word count: 2,989
Minors DNI
《~☆¤☆~》
Chuuya
Word count: 836
Chuuya hadn’t let his view on children clear to anyone, even you were unaware of his feelings about children.
At first, he didn’t see himself having them when he first started dating you.
When you and Chuuya started dating, he was content on keeping it just the two of you until the end of time.
He’d seen some of the lower-ranking members of the mafia bring their children in, as they couldn’t get someone to look after the young one.
After a year or two of you both being in a relationship, he started to imagine himself with you having his children.
He imagined him watching those mind-numbing cartoons with bright colours and over-exaggerated, ear bleeding voice acting.
Chuuya knew that you would love to have a child in your life, you would love it even more if you had one with him. You didn’t care on how you and him would have a child, whether it be through you both having sex, hiring a surrogate, or adoption.
You were beyond ecstatic when Chuuya told you he wanted to have a family with you
Scenario
Chuuya never had an interest in children, he didn’t see how a small human could be so fulfilling before he met you. It wasn’t on his mind when he was single. He did get along with the children that was left in the break room while their parents worked, they always had questions for him when it came to the mafia or his work. Chuuya made sure to keep everything PG for the young ones, most of them were at 12-years or under. He kept the most gruesome areas of his line of work out of the question.
“Don’t choose it has a profession.” Chuuya would always tell them. He was aware on how hypocritical it was for him to say, but at the end of the day, the mafia was the last resort. He did explain his ability to them when one of them asked
Then, he met you a year or two ago, and he wouldn’t trade that that time for the world. He loved you with all his heart. You had brought up the discussion of children he always told you that he was unsure.
Yeah, he got along with the children that was in the break room at work, but he wasn’t sure if he could handle one of his own.
He would never have guessed that the daily conversations he would have with the children would turn to him wanting one of his own, a part of him adored the way the children were curious, and innocent.
He looked at you and could imagine your swollen belly with his child inside it. He fantasied on how a child with you would be like. It even snuck into his dreams which he woke up from with a flustered face.
He was on his motorcycle heading back to the penthouse he shared with you, again the thought of a child entered and exited his mind as he paid attention to the empty streets, illuminated by the streetlights. it was that time of the night were most wouldn’t be outside.
Parking his bike, he walked into the penthouse and could smell the curry that were cooking. It was one of the perks he adored about you, although he’d rather coming home to your sleeping face and cook for himself, or maybe order a takeout for himself.
He walked into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind as you were on the stove, his hand slowly made their way to your stomach, caressing it softly and placed light kisses on your shoulder.
“What’s on your mind Chuuya?” You asked as you looked over at him
“I want a baby, Y/n. I want one with you.” Chuuya whispered causing you to blush before a large smile came across your face, you quickly lowered the heat just so you could turn around to kiss your lover.
“When?” You asked once you pulled your lips away from him.
“Preferably as soon as possible.” Chuuya responded, his hands only remained on your stomach. He could feel your heart and your body swell with love, happiness and excitement. “Let’s eat first.” Was everything you said before turning around again and turned the heat back up to continue dinner.
Hours after, Chuuya had you pinned on the bed, thrusting his cock in and out of you, your moans only fuelled his desire to continue. “Baby...” Chuuya moaned out as he kept going at his quick pace. “You’d be such a good mother.” he then muttered out as he let his own release come again.
You to stayed there for a small while, both in pure bliss.
“One more round... Please just one more round.” Chuuya begged in a whisper as his cock slowly moved in and out of your aching pussy
He wanted to make sure that he had defiantly fucked a baby into you before the both of you fell asleep.
Poe
Word count: 313
Poe already has a child. Karl.
He has expressed that he does not want (human) children, so have you.
You both have Karl, and whatever furry creature you bring into your shared home and that’s all you two needed.
Scenario
Poe was working on his new mystery novel for his rival, Ranpo while you fed Karl blueberries, which he took happily.
You looked up at your loving boyfriend for a moment before smiling a little. “We still have something to talk about Poe.” You said, petting Karl. Poe looked up at you “And what is that Dearest?” Poe asked as he now averting his attention to you.
“Children, Poe. We should discuss...” Poe cure you off before you could finish
“We have Karl. Why would we have the need for children?” Poe asked as he continued to stare at you, “So, no kids?” You asked your lover.
“Yes.” Poe answered.
You let out a sigh of relief, in all honesty, you didn’t want children of your own. You found them to be insufferable, with all the screaming they do, and crying they do. Not to mention the mess they make. It just wasn’t something you were interested in having.
“Well, if it helps, I’m not interested in having children.” You said with a smile as you went back to feed Karl blueberries.
“You're going to spoil him like that.” Poe said as he continued writing his novel.
“Oh, please... As if you wouldn’t spoil Karl yourself.” You said as Karl now climbed on your shoulder. “After all he’s just the cutest racoon alive.” You then cooed as Karl purred affectionately.
Poe smiled at you two. Karl was truly like his and your baby and you and Poe, are Karls parents. That’s all you needed.
You two didn’t want human children, but you two would be perfectly content with any animals you would adopt.
Jouno
Word count: 836
Jouno, much like Chuuya, wouldn’t originally want a child.
He would find the amount of noise they make overstimulating to his sensitive ears. Jouno wouldn’t believe he’d make a good father, he is aware that he is not a good person.
Jouno found out that you wanted children at how he heard how your heartbeat quickened whenever you seen families.
However, he was still unsure on children until he saved one.
Saving a child changed his view on him as a potential father.
The night after he saved that child he immediately after.
Scenario
Juono liked children, he wouldn’t want to bring them harm, but he couldn’t see himself having them, he doesn’t think he would be a good father due to his past as being a former member in a criminal organisation.
Lately he had been noticing how his wife, you, heart rate had been increasing whenever you had been seeing how parents and their children. He could only imagine what was going through your head whenever it did.
Jouno would come home and kiss you tenderly on the forehead as you slept at night, he would always be so gentle to you whenever he came home from a long, hard day, and found you asleep on their shared bed, you in one of his shirt because his scent lulled you to sleep, something he always teased you about.
Deep down, Jouno knew you wanted children soon, you just had never said anything because you knew Jouno would rather have a quiet life with you, you also knew that Jouno believed he wouldn’t be the best fit to be a dad, with his criminal past and due to how long he is away each day, sometimes never coming home for weeks, sometimes months at a time.
The turning point for Jouno was when he saved a child from a burning building, Tetchou was carrying three people at a time and was still running quickly while Teruko chased the arsonist that caused this fire.
The crackling of the fire made it difficult for Jouno to hear people's heartbeat, thankfully he heard the cries of a young child. Jouno was quick to run to the child's location, due the fire he was unable to activate his ability.
Jouno picked up the child and began to run as if his own life depended on it, he felt the child cling onto Jouno’s shirt, as burning timber fell in front of the exit.
Jouno felt his own heartbeat quicken, but he had to keep his composure, “This is bad, if I don’t get out of here then...” Jouno’s thoughts tracked out to you. Jouno turned his body around. Tetchou soon came running to where Jouno currently stood, carrying two people on his shoulders, Jouno could hear his breath hitched.
“Tetchou, make yourself useful and lend me your eyes.” Jouno said as he turned to his colleague, Tetchou had been working with Jouno for long enough to know what he means, but he hadn’t seen Jouno like that before. Was it because Jouno couldn’t use his ability? That he might not be able to go back to you? Tetchou couldn’t find out the answer.
“Uh... There’s a window.” Tetchou mentioned as he knocked on the ashy glass before continuing. “But we’re 3 floors high. I don’t think that...” Tetchou was silenced in shock as saw Jouno jumping out of the window, away from the fire, he could now activate his ability to get him and the child down safely.
Placing the child down he went to the fire engines to get a trampoline for Tetchou and the people he was carrying.
After things had calmed down, Jouno heard a very familiar heartbeat approaching “Darling? Why are you here?” Jouno asked before he felt you wrap your arms around him, he felt that you were shaking.
“Darling? Were you scared for me?” Jouno asked as he wrapped his arms around you, returning your hug in his own comforting embrace. “I thought I would’ve...” You didn’t finish your sentence as Jouno pushed your head into his chest “Shut up you fool and listen to my heartbeat. I am fine.” Juno said in a quiet voice.
He stayed as you calmed down, not particularly caring if the press acknowledged it. He heard footsteps approach him. “I had a strange thought when I was in there though, and that though is slowly turning into a feeling...” Jouno whispered as he stroked his hand through your hair for another second before his hand found your cheek and brought it up so you could face him.
“My next once in a blue moon break is in the next 3 months, why don’t we...” Jouno leaned down to whisper in your ear. “... Try to start a family together.” Jouno chuckled as he heard your heartbeat quicken and your face redden with the heat rushing to it.
For the first time, he was excited to have a child, start a family with his one and only love.
Tetchou
Word Count: 526
Tetchou would love to have children, why wouldn’t he?
He believes that a child with you would make his life with you more perfect than it already was.
He would be so happy the day he came home after a mission that took a few months to find you pregnant with his child.
Scenario
Tetchou remembers the moans that came from your mouth the night before he left for his mission. You two had been trying for a child each night he could with you. It wasn’t often he could have a night alone with you like this.
And he wanted to make you feel special before he had to leave you for long time.
You were the only thing on his mind each night he slept, awaiting the day the mission was completed and could return to you. His beloved wife.
That day came, after a dreaded 5 months, Tetchou could finally return to you. His love for justice was strong, but his love for you was even stronger. You made him feel more than just a soldier. You helped him feel human.
He went back to the shared apartment he had with you. He ran into the apartment and his eyes widened when he saw you being visibly pregnant. “Tetchou... Are you alright?” You asked as she placed her drink on the counter and got up from her couch to walk over to him.
“Tetchou?” You said with a smile before you saw tears falling from his eyes.
Tetchou pulled you into a tight hug, crying happily into your shoulder. It was rare to see Tetchou in such a state, but he couldn’t control himself in this current moment, you were carrying his child, he couldn’t ask for more.
Tetchou kissed your face so many times, before he guided you to the couch, getting you to sit down with him. He was hesitant at first to your bump, he looked at you as if asking if it was okay to touch it.
You only chuckle and place his hand on your stomach for him. he seemed amazed by it, his hands were so gentle as he grazed your stomach, touching it like it was glass.
Tetchou’s eyes were still filled with tears as he looked down at your stomach, he found it hard to believe that his very own was growing inside of you.
“I swear on my life, I will protect you and protect our future child. And if I fail, i will own sword and tear out my own guts.” Tetchou swore with the most serious voice you had ever heard.
“Oh Tetchou, I love you, truly, but I’d prefer to have you alive2 You said with a laugh as you ran your hand through his hair. Tetchou only looked at you with absolute wonder and love in his eyes as another few tears fall. He gives you a smile, a smile that only you saw.
“Then I swear to protect you and our child.” Tetchou whispered as he leaned in to kiss you.
As if his life wasn’t perfect enough already, now, he a child of his own on the way.
Fyodor
Word Count: 422
Fyodor is under the firm belief of having children after marriage, he sees it has the way god would intend it to be.
When you first approached him about children he just said “When we are married”
Scenario
You were laying in the shared bed you and Fyodor had with an icy hand wrapped around as he read one of his books to you, speaking in Russian as you laid your head on his chest.
“Fyodor... What do you feel about having children one day?” You asked him suddenly, causing him to stop reading out loud to you, he gave a chuckle and looked down at you “When we are wedded lyubov moya.” He simply said as he continued to read to you feeling your eyes droop before you fall asleep.
Fyodor chuckled as he went off the bed before tucking you in and giving you a light kiss on your forehead, and walked out so he could continue his work. It was routine for the two of you when you wanted to you to sleep, Fyodor’s voice always helped you go to sleep.
Fyodor sat in his chair in front of his many monitors and sat there for a moment “Children....” He mumbled with a smile.
“My dear... I promise you, once I have perfected this world, I will marry you, and give you the child you desire.” He whispered before he got to proper work.
He had to finish erasing you from any official documents, to keep hidden, to keep you safe from his enemies. And anyone that could take you away from him.
He thought of you, and the future child they would have together, he was already imagining on what his child would look like, how many they would have. Maybe 2 or 3, and what they would be like once they were adults
Of course, they would be little geniuses like him, his genes are strong, he’d also imagine them having black hair, and 1 or 2 would have your eyes the other/s having his eyes, or 1 or 2 having his eyes and the other one having yours.
He thought of everything about them. Maybe he’d have to marry you sooner than he planned, for him to have the children his mind is conjuring up.
“Oh, lyubov moya. How I love you.” He said as he looked at a picture of you. “You are my angel, and I swear, you and our children will make my world more perfect than the one i am currently making.”
#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bsdfan#bungo stay dogs#bsd x you#fyodor dostoevsky#fyodor dostoyevsky x reader#fyodor x you#fyodor x reader#fyodor dostoyevsky bsd#bsd fyodor#bungou stray dogs fyodor#tetchou suehiro x reader#tetchou x reader#bsd tetchou#tecchou smut#tecchou x reader#bsd tecchou#tecchou suehiro#jouno x y/n#jouno x reader#jouno x you#jouno saigiku#bsd jouno#bsd chuuya#chuuya x reader#bungou stray dogs chuuya#chuuya x you#chuuya nakahara
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Redeemed
Fandom: Call of Duty Pairing: König x Female reader Summary: While helping your boyfriend do a little spring cleaning, you come across his old gear. You've seen him wear it in pictures but to have him put it on for you… Length: Medium/Long Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY, strong language, explicit content, established relationship, kinda' sorta' roleplay even though is himself, degradation, name calling, fingering, pussy slapping, edging, p in v (unprotected, wrap it up!), creampie, oral (f & m receiving), detailed smut. ENJOY!!!
beg me for it (bitte mich darum) my love (meine liebe) my honey bee (meine honigbiene)
"What about this one?" You call out, shifting a rather large cardboard box away from the dusty window. You sneezed for the tenth time. Helping your boyfriend clean out his attic before the fall came. You'd gone through old clothes, holey jackets, boxes of books, notepads dated from before you two had started seeing one another.
"Nein. That is just some old paperwork, put it over there by the others." König answered, tearing open a box of his own at the opposite side of the attic. It wasn't a big space, it did not accommodate his size at all as he was crouched down in a squat. His ass looked great, you thought as he was none the wiser of your ogling.
You moved another box and saw a big, beige duffel bag high on a shelf. It called out to you.
TAKE ME DOWN! TAKE ME DOWN!
"What's this?" You mumbled, mostly to yourself as you reached up on your tip toes, hands reaching out for the thick black straps.
"What's what, meine honigbiene?"
"Whatever it is it's fuckin' heavy! Ow!" The bag came down, hard against your chest making you topple over into yet another cloud of dust. Like clouds of it making the air up here a little thicker than need be.
"Be careful, my dear." König said, spinning on his feet. He coughed and you heard him walk over to you. He wasn't a gentle stepping giant by any means. "Oh liebe don't look in there-"
You unzipped the bag just as he reached you, his hands on top of yours to stop you but it was too late. You saw a helmet that resembled a spider, there was another mask that looked similar to Simon's, along with an array of secured weapons and flares. "This is your old gear."
"Ja." König hummed behind you, pulling out a foreign piece of material to you, completely nostalgic for the man. You'd seen it in pictures around his home but to see these key pieces of his past self was something different. Vulnerable. König mused over a pack of unopened flares, a few ammunition magazines. "I haven't put on the mask in so long… there was a time, believe it or not that I never took it off. Only to wash it of course but, this was my face. This was König."
"Will you put it on for me?" An intrusive thought popped in your head like champagne bubbles. You bit your lip before your brain could short circuit that you would ask such a thing. You knew he was an operator, high ranking, cultured and experienced. He'd mention some things in passing that were a bit on the grim and dark side. He'd dealt with the trauma and guilt, what he had to do to survive, to make it out and up rank. To be praised for his hard work and dedication.
"The mask? Certainly not. That version of me is over, I couldn't begin to tell you what that man has done, who I'd become if I were to put this thing back on. 's not for your pretty little eyes, honigbiene."
"Bitte? Just once. For me."
"Oh no, don't start with talking my language to get what you want."
König held your face with the other hand, shoving his mask back into the duffel, he kissed your head. "And don't pout, you're face will remain that way."
….
You heard him before you saw him. Sure he wore boots, custom Doc Marten's to be exact, so hearing him clunk around wasn't out of the ordinary but- he sounded heavy. The sounds of his outfit, the light SWISH of his standard issue pants got closer, he was getting closer.
You covered your face with your hands. You had to. It felt like instinct. Once König was in the living room with you, the air felt different. Your skin felt hot even though a chill went down your spine once he stopped walking. You heard his gloves creak. He cleared his throat and tapped his foot.
The only coherent thought once your eyes adjusted to the sight before you, was a gentle "Oh."
Your lover was… fucking massive. The way his shoulders rounded, he stood a little taller, a little prouder. That glitter in his blue eyes let you in on the smirk that laid hidden behind his black and red streaked mask. Especially with his hands behind his back, standing at attention.
Helmet, vest, forearm plates, shin guards, enough cargo pockets to put damn near anything but the kitchen fucking sink.
"Do like what you see, my dear? Your legs are practically falling open for me."
He wasn't lying.
Sat on the couch, your legs moved apart at the sight of him covered head to toe in tactical gear.
"What do you think?" König asked, rocking in place. His waist looked good enough to eat. The urge to bite him all over was overwhelming and you'd be lying if you told yourself this wasn't a major turn on, or that you were in fact getting excited. The damage, the chaos, the bloodshed he'd left behind while wearing his tactical gear made you itchy.
"It's different. I mean, I've seen pictures of you in your gear but. Woah. It makes you look… bigger." You spoke with your hands as he nodded slowly.
König moved one of his hands from behind his back, made a fist then motioned for you to come towards him. You did so on shaky legs and tiny feet. He towered over you on a usual day, he's a behemoth of a man and yet when you looked up and up at him, you couldn't help but feel like a bug. An insect about to be squashed.
"You wanted to see me in my uniform," König softly spoke, putting his gloved middle finger under your chin and gave it a light tap. "Here I am. Up close and personal."
You licked your lips. "What did you do in it?"
"Everything. Fight. Kill. Fuck."
Your eyes darkened. You weren't a jealous person and obviously he'd had a life before you much like you did yourself. But to hear him speak so clearly, so thorough, clinical even about the adventures he'd had in this attire had you weak.
"Will you fuck me in it?"
König snorted, his mask puffing out a little with his breath. "You're quite serious?"
You nodded.
"Then I am afraid mein liebe… it wouldn't be me that fucked you if that's what you're looking for."
You furrowed your eyebrows until his words started to make sense, stringing and looping together to make loose ends meet.
Of course you would be fucking your lover but… with him dressed in his old gear, old habits would die fucking hard. He'd be König, your König. But if you wanted him like this… you would be fucking KorTac's colonel.
….
König grabbed you by the waist and pushed you up against the wall behind him, grabbing both of your hands in just one of his, the rubber pads of his gloves marking up your skin. You gasped. He chuckled and dug around in one of those cargo pockets on the front of his vest, without breaking eye contact he pulled out a pair of zip tie handcuffs.
They dug into your flesh, pinching just enough to air on the uncomfortable side, in front of you before König pushed himself up against your back, mentioning that if you were to refer to him as anything other than sir or colonel you were to be sorely punished. Spanked within reason. Broken with trust. Fingered without mercy in any hole of his choosing. You clenched around nothing.
You felt the foreign pockets of his vest dug into your shoulders, he circled his hips against your rear with a low hum that vibrated through you.
"You've got yourself a safeword, have you?"
"Mhmmm. Pocket knife."
"Good girl." König praised in your ear, grunting when he slipped his hand between your thighs, clicking his teeth when you wiggled back against him. "Spoke too soon, apparently. You're radiating heat, honigbiene. Are you wet? Should I inspect?"
"Bitte."
König snarled and grabbed your leggings and yanked them down to your ankles, he moaned when he realized you weren't wearing anything else underneath. He moved his hand to the front of your face.
"Take it off."
"How?"
"Bite down."
You whined and took his glove between your teeth, he pulled his hand out and cupped your sex. You writhed in his hold. His hand was so hot and so big and it felt so damn good between your legs.
"Wet already? What a little horny thing you are, my dear. You like this don't you? Pinned down, held in place, vulnerable in the best way possible. "Give in to me, biene. Give in to your colonel."
You yelped when his fingers, testing your leaky entrance for awhile, coating the pads and finally breached your hole, splitting your folds apart to get to the softest, spongiest, spot inside you.
"Well well…" König pressed his face to the back of your head. "What have we here? Is this turning you on, biene? The way your sweet little pussy keeps sucking in my finger is giving me the answer your voice cannot."
"Please!"
"Please what, my dear?" He asked, making his palm flat, your clit throbbed and ached to be touched, the friction of it hitting once more as he fingered you deeper, his thick thumb tapping the hood of it gently which each thrust.
Suspended between bliss and absolute torture, your body betraying you by twisting and rocking back and forth, pushing yourself back against his ministrations with your hands splayed on the wall in front of you.
"I need more."
"More what?"
"More of you. Inside me, König."
He tsked and removed his hand completely, making you hang your head in shame.
"Failure so soon, pet? Gonna' have to work on that," his heavy presence and warmth left you too suddenly, he peeled himself off your back and turned you around once more, eyeing your lower half. "You can be obedient, can't you honigbiene? Desperate to be a good girl for me. Show me your dedication."
König thudded his big boots over to the couch, plopping down with too much weight the whole scooted back at least an inch, legs splayed out wide, hands on his thighs. His still gloved one patted an inner thigh.
It proved to be difficult to shimmy over to him with your leggings around your ankles, stuck to your crew socks. You were careful not to slip on the silky material. It felt hamulating to shuffle over like that but also the way you needed to keep your knees together, your thighs together, rubbed your sex deliciously.
Once in front of him, he rubbed the warm skin of your outer thighs, then between them spreading your legs apart until the fabric of your legging tugged and pulled at your feet.
When his gloved hand slapped against your cunt you jumped. "Bad girl. What two names we're you given to address me?"
You whined, locking your fingers together, desperately wanting to close your legs. You were already a pulsating mess but this… oh this was something else.
"Tell me!"
"Sir." You jumped.
"And?"
"Colonel."
"Good job, biene. And what do you just call me?"
"Kön--König."
Another slap to your center made you shut your eyes and bite your lip.
"Did I not promise punishment if you did not behave."
"I forgot!" You whined and twitched when he switched hands, teasing your entrance once more, just pressing, not intruding, just letting you know he could pierce through you. " 'm sorry, sir. I won't forget again."
"Hmph. We'll see about that."
König is a very calculated man, knew how to draw you i like a moth to a light source. He grabbed you, pushing you down to the couch with a bounce and grabbed at your legs, kneeling down in front of you. He pulled off his vest to reveal the tightest looking thermal shirt, it made his muscles look huge, he could choke you out in seconds with how they moved. And that made you wet and weak to the manhandling of your body. His hands pulled at the back of your knees, just your lower back on the cushion now and he hooked your legs over his massive shoulders.
"Show me your pussy, baby. Go on, open her on up for me now." With your bound hands and aching sex, the way his eyes fixated as you spread your legs.
"Good job, pretty. So wet. I think I just saw her clench, are we needy biene?"
"Yes sir! I am I am so fucking needy for you."
"Good." König moaned as he lifted up the hem of his mask, licked his fingers and spread your folds before diving in to worship you.
….
He had you where he wanted you, tettering on the edge of the couch cushions, lost in pleasure as König ate you out, tongue fucked your cunt, spat on your asshole until you screamed for mercy. Grabbing at his hair. The hot and cold juxtaposition from his tongue ring brought your orgasm closer and closer.
"Colonel bitte, I can't… I can't take much more." You sobbed and bucked your hips up into his face, he chuckled darkly, smacking his lips and moaning as you felt the bridge and tip of his nose bump up against your clit.
"You're gonna' take a lot more once you cum," König groaned, rubbing all of his fingers, rather quickly over your pussy, making you feral. "Oh biene, can you hear that? You're fucking pussy is juicing up just right, you're gonna' cum aren't you, princess? Cum all over my fingers or my face, you've redeemed yourself so far."
"I um I--"
"Keep them open now. Come on pretty thing, I am giving you an option and if you don't use your words I'll just-"
"I'm so close, please!" You whine, tilting your head just right to watch in awe and bliss how fast you were losing control, your legs jerked against the sides of his head.
"That's not what I asked, sweetie."
"Fingers! Please colonel, fuck. Fing-ger fuck me, make me cum please." You sounded pathetic but it was just too much, his mouth, his fingers, his words and sprinkles of praise lit you up like the Fourth of Fucking July.
He quickly switched tactics, as he usually did to keep you on your toes. On edge for what he'd planned for you two next. But this complete dominance, his control, left you dizzy.
Instead of curling his two fingers deep into your core, hollowing you out to make room for his thick cock, he turned his wrist, palm down as he rocked them into that way. Magnificent.
You squirmed and squealed and shouted out profanities in English and a few you'd learned from your lover, like you were speaking in tongues.
Almost there, almost there, almosttherealmosttherealmostthere…
Then-- there was nothing.
No fingers, no mouth, no tongue!
You opened your eyes to see König standing above you, taking off his belt, unzipping his pants.
"I was so close."
"I know," he tilted his head and took his cock out. You clenched around nothing, licking your lips when he moved the mask just out of the way for him to spit on his own dick. You loved watching him do that. The first time you two had sex, he spat on it while staring at you, a smirk on his handsome and scarred face. It was hot then and even hotter every time after.
His boots pounded against the floor, jerking himself off as he got closer, slapping his cock against your pussy, your arousal making the stickiest noises to fill his living room.
"Colonel!"
"What a needy little slut. Just a little bit foreplay and you're a fucking mess, look at you. You think you deserve to cum, have you earned it?"
"You said I, you said I was gonna' be redeemed." Tears filled your eyes as he slapped your inner thighs, one after the other. He then dragged his nails down your heated flesh.
"Changed my mind, now sit up and open your fucking mouth." König helped you by placing his hard and cold shin guards against your knees and helped to push up. "Lift up your shirt too."
With the way your hands were bound, thumb to thumb in a praying motion, proved to be a little too difficult and König was getting impatient. So he grunted and grabbed your shirt, yanked it up, your tits spilling out from your bra and on a whim, it seemed, he just hooked it around the back of your head. On perverse display.
"That's much better. You look like a fuck toy, is that what you are, baby? Just a hole to fill, keep my fat cock safe and warm. No teeth. Stick out your tongue." König barked at you. Cursing something in German soon after you obliged, followed orders.
He plopped his cock against your tongue, you could faintly taste yourself on it, mixed with the beads of pre-cum. Delicious. You moaned around his length, his hand on the back of your skull, which he could easily squeeze and crush it in an instant, and had you bobbing, and gagging and drooling over it.
König made the dirtiest sound, low in his throat as he face fucked you, every time you pleaded with your eyes for a little release he'd slap your cunt again. Over and over until it was sore. Your clit aching and throbbing for some attention, your pussy reacting to his purposeful ministrations to make you as messy and sticky as possible.
Your König did not treat you this way, at all. In fact he made love you almost every night, claiming feeling you there, on him, in you felt safe. Comfortable. You were home. So this filthy pace, his thumb pressing down on your clit, that twisted look in his eyes as he watched you slobber all over him, down your neck and over your chest was a sign of delight.
"What a good little throat slut you're being honig, just delightful! You suck me down like you were made for it, were sweetheart, were you made to suck this cock so well?" He chuckled and finally pulled off when you nodded dumbly.
"Good girl, now then," he sighed and took a step back, a heavy string of saliva connected your swollen lips to the crown of his cock. "Do you prefer to look at me while I take you, or do you prefer to be hollowed out on your hands and knees?"
"Both." Came out of your mouth like you'd had one too many, trying to catch your breath.
"Both? You are greedy. Come here now! Hold still." He grabbed your hands and lifted you to your feet like it was nothing, and held them up above your head, your wrists screaming. "Keep them there."
He tore off the other glove and pulled down the cups of your bra, uncaring that your spit would be all over his palms as he kneaded your breasts, thumbed over your nipples.
"Oh colonel, please sir, that feels really good. Keep going."
"Sounds like it, you are so… breathy." You could hear the smile in his voice, his voice low and swirled with lust. "I love these tits so much, I just…"
He was on his knees faster than you could blink, for a man of his stature he's quite swift. He lifted his mask once more and mouthed of your breasts, groaning and growling and holding you close under the ribs, pulling at you to get further into his mouth. "I love you."
"Th-thank you sir. I love you too." You tried to remain calm but this fucking behemoth was working you over and for fucks sake would he fuck you already. You could another flood of desire and wetness slip through your folds as he licked and sucked. That damn tongue ring was worth the investment.
He pulled off your left nipple with a light pop and got back up to his feet and spun you around, you fell over on to the couch the long way, scrambling with your hands to push yourself up and into position, only to have your lover mold you to his liking. Whacking your thigh and hoisting up your hips against his groin.
"Now pretty thing… say that again for me, say it back to König."
"Oh fuck."
You did eventually find your voice after being rocked back and forth, his cock slipping in between your legs, gathering more and more of your arousal, the head of his cock bumping into your clit on purpose. He pushed into you slow for the first inch, feeling your walls spasm made him pause for a moment before you gave the go ahead with a pat to knee underneath you. He split you open, humming at the sounds coming from you, wiggling and trying to fit him all the way in at this angle. He pulled all the way out, spread your cheeks and spat once more before easing his way back in. Only to do it again and again, moaning how perfect you looked all gaped and wanting.
He fucked you hard and fast after that, the cushions feeling scratchy against your sensitive skin, your heated and exposed chest and stomach. The jangle of his belt knocking against your hip, the crotch of his pants getting soaked with your juices. He's never been this harsh before!
"Can't say anything, can you biene? Good. You don't need to fuckin' talk, just give and take. Feels so good."
"You always f-feel good, sir."
"Good answer!" was followed by a hard spank as he pounded into you even more before stopping all together to circle his hips and rub against that spongy bit that made you holler.
"Sir! Can I cum now? Bitte, I've been so good. Please?" You gasped into the cushions, your face wet with drool from all your whining and moaning. Your shoulder pushed deeper into it.
"Ja, ja! Cum on my cock, honigbiene. Cum for König."
You instantly came.
And came some more.
He couldn't wait for you to face him, see him in all his glory. So he gripped your shoulder, fisted your shirt for extra leverage and rolled you onto your back. He flicked one of your nipples harshly, enjoying the reaction and sunk back into your cunt.
Unrelenting as König massaged you from the inside out, letting you push and pull him back in like the tide. You arched and damn near fell off the couch but he caught you, cradling your hips, slipping off your socks and leggings, chucking them to the ground his his vest.
"Keep holding yourself open for me, honig. You're doing such a good job, what a good girl you turned out to be tonight hmmm?" König said while spitting on and stroking his cock again above you.
"Please sir, I'm begging you to fill me. I need to be stretched out." You cried, keeping your legs open was tedious at this point but necessary to get what you wanted.
"Bitte mich darum."
The wheels of your brain started to reel, you knew the words separately so… oh.
"I need it, colonel. I need you so badly, inside me sir, bitte bitte."
"Wanna' cum together, pretty girl. Show me that face."
He grunted when saw you smile and reach for him, wrapping your arms around his neck, drawing him in.
"Do one thing for me honig, grab my cock, that's it," König moaned around your fist, feeling your juices on your palm as he shifted. "Can you guide me in, show me the way?"
You rubbed the head of him between your lips.
"That's it."
You helped him glide back home, in and out, safe within the confines of your pussy. His neck rolled under your hands and you moved up your pelvis. He sunk in deeper.
"Good girl now," he gulped, framing your head with his forearms, his chest lowering down to yours. "Fuck yourself with it."
"What?"
"You heard me. Fuck yourself with my cock, like you do with one of your toys."
In. Out. In. Out.
Just that simple action had you open mouthed and pouting at how good he felt. You already came hard once, another explosion was nearly the horizon the more you fit him in, the more fuller you felt. You used him as a fuck toy, crying out his title's, holding onto his mask.
"Kiss me."
König flipped the mask up enough to comply, he tasted salty and sweating. He fucked his tongue into your mouth to the rhythm of you fucking yourself. He grunted you name against your lips. You sucked on his tongue.
"I'm going to cum if you keep that up, honig."
"I want you to. I need you to. Cum inside me."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. You wanted me to beg for it so I am- oh fuck yeah. That's it."
"You fuck…"
You hurried your wrist, looking up at König, with his eyes trained on yours, thrusting into your hand to finish together.
….
König collapsed on top of you, panting and out of breathe and hot. Both in appearance and body heat. That black thermal of his came off at the lightning speed after he came. He hugged you tightly, resting his face in the crook of your neck as you stroke his back. Full, sated and complete.
"I did not hurt you, right? I was a little--"
"You were perfect," you breathed and kissed the top of his forehead, tracing the scars on his shoulder. "Can I ask you one thing, though?"
"Anything, honig." König said and looked at you with curious eyes.
"Can we do that again?" Tagging: @goblinmodetweeker @poohkie90 @satakingslime @wrenwrites @mochimycat @bowsforsienna
#könig x reader#konig x reader#konig x you#könig#konig cod#konig smut#konig imagine#konig fic#konig fanfiction#cod imagine
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IRON FLAME SPOILERS theories & shit
okay violet’s second signet!! ry confirmed that it did manifest in this book… theories I’ve seen:
andarna’s linked to the gods, meaning her capabilities and violet’s signet defy established norms.
communicating with or resurrecting the dead. stems from her conversation with liam, though ry did say in an interview that liam was, in fact, just a hallucination. others theorize that even if that were the case, maybe sawyer was truly beyond saving had violet not intervened.
soul mender/something to do with healing venin. from the emphasis on “balance”; violet can both destroy and save the venin.
amplifier for other signets. mira’s shield, rhi pulling the dagger through a wall, dain seeing specific memories…
foresight. seeing the future; the way andarna was sure they would bond before she even hatched
time travel. linked to andarna’s power to stop time as a feathertail, the idea is that violet will ultimately go back and influence characters in the past
truth-sayer. “The only signet more terrifying than an inntinnsic is a truth-sayer.” Violet has an incessant need for the truth, and Xaden says he will always answer honestly so long as she asks the right questions.
more theories!! bc i need to consolidate these somewhere:
naolin turned venin and is still alive (poor brennan & tairn); it’s never says explicitly that he dies, just that saving Brennan “cost him everything”— much like Lyra’s words when talking about sharing the knowledge and protection of the wards
xaden’s mom turned venin and is still alive
violet’s dad turned venin before Violet was born/conceived
if resurrection/communicating with the dead is gonna come into play, burning a person’s belongings severs any potential connection/makes it impossible
either Violet and Xaden have been having the same nightmares and were both targets or one of them is seeing the other’s dreams
“recovered correspondence” could simply mean that it was recovered from a destroyed location, or that it was for a time believed to be lost… i’m more worried about the seemingly static ranks…
#i’ll add if i remember more/someone tells me more that i like#bc oml#iron flame#fourth wing#andarna#violet sorrengail#xaden riorson#rebecca yarros#books#reading#iron flame spoilers#the empyrean#theories
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