#now to disappear in a puff of smoke until next time

[bearambles]

Okok little request if ur up for it. Just Hamzah x reader (gn if mentioned) where they have a smoke sesh together in his new apartment but reader gets too comfortable and accidentally falls asleep on Hamzah with the cats.

Just pure fluff lmaoo I just can't get the thought out of my head I need to grip his shirt like a child he just looks so comfy :')

Also idc what format it can be headcanon or a small fic, whatever u feel!!

close to you 🎀 (hamzah)

words: 1.1k

warnings: use of weed, making out, fluff, established relationship

note: hi lovelies!! im so sorry for the lack of posts recently - im on vacation and ive had no time or motivation. on the ride home though, im gonna try to catch up to requests!! and im thinking abt writing smut again 🤭

“do you wanna smoke?”

hamzahs head turns from looking at the ceiling to looking at you. he looks almost nervous, his eyes darting across your face like he did the first time he kissed you. you smile at the thought and sit up on his bed.

he’d invited you over to see his new apartment (finally). you’d ended up in his room playing with his new cats, blue and red, who seemed to take a liking to you. blue sits in your lap now, and you scratch behind her ears as you speak.

“like, a blunt?”

he stays laying down, red lying on his chest. he pets her and laughs softly.

“nah, i have a pen. but it’s the same idea.”

he raises an eyebrow, “you have smoked before, right?”

you blush, your face heating up. you look down to the kitty in your lap, and bring both legs up so they’re crossed.

“duh. just like. once or twice in high school, though. and…” you trail off.

“and?” he asks, picking up red in his arms and sitting up next to you.

“i don’t think i did it right. like, i didn’t really feel anything.” you admit

“oh okay. that’s okay. i mean like- if you don’t wanna-“

“no, i do.” you say quickly, “i just - like you’ll have to teach me i guess. that sounds stupid. but the first time was like, a bong and i totally didn’t inhale shit.”

he laughs, and the sound makes you crack a smile, even after embarrassing yourself. he’s wearing his camo hoodie, and his curls are just the perfect amount of messy. one falls into his eyes and he blushes it away with his palm.

“that’s okay, i can show you. though, i don’t know how great a teacher i’ll be.”

he places red in your lap next to blue and gets up from the bed, going to dig through his drawers for his pen. you watch the way he moves, the way his sweatshirt rides up and shows a bit of his back. the way his pants fit. you look away when you catch yourself being a creep.

he finds it and goes to sit in front of you this time, near the end of the bed. he’s closer now, his legs matching yours in a sort of lazy criss-cross. he observes the device in his hands for a second before bringing it to his lips and inhaling.

when he releases the smoke, he tilts his head up and you stare at his neck. the smoke leaves his lips slowly and quickly disappears. he looks back to you and holds it out for you to take.

“it’s gonna die soon so we can just finish it today.” he says as you grab the pen from his hand, “unless you like, go crazy after a few hits.”

you roll your eyes and look at the pen in your hand, before lifting it to your mouth. you look to him for confirmation and he nods, so you deeply inhale like you saw him do.

“okay, now inhale again, and you’ll feel it in the back of your throat.”

you do as he says and feel it - it sort of burns. after a moment you puff out your cheeks and then release the smoke, slow at first. that is until you cough, and the rest comes out.

he laughs and takes the pen from your hand.

“you okay?”

you nod, but keep coughing for a moment. sitting up, you reach your hand out again, wiggling your fingers to ask for the pen back. he raises an eyebrow at you.

“you want it again already.” you nod. “alright, but be careful, for real. don’t do too much just to impress me.”

you give him a look.

“i’m not, i swear. just, lemme try again okay?”

he hands you the pen and you take another hit, this one burning less. you feel it in your head, and you smile as you let out the smoke into his face. he waves his hand to get it away, but he’s laughing.

“thatta girl, hey, you feel good?”

“i feel great.” you say, going in to kiss him. he kisses back and leans forward, wrapping his hands around your waist. you uncross your legs and sit up on your knees.

his mouth is soft and you moan into it as he moves his hands down to the back of your legs, lifting you onto his waist. from there he moves back so he’s up against the bedframe with you in his lap.

it’s like that for the next hour - slow kisses and the pen passed between you two. neither of you suggest anything more despite your closeness (and hamzahs obvious hard-on). there’s a soft sort of feel to the moment.

“i wanna try something.” he says eventually, taking the device from your fingers and moving it to his mouth.

you look at him with curiosity and lean back slightly to watch. he pushes the smoke around in his mouth a bit before taking your face in both of his hands and pulling you close. you open your mouth to kiss him, but he stays just an inch away, and while your lips are parted, blows the smoke into your open mouth.

inhaling it, you smile against his mouth and properly kiss him. you can feel his grin forming too. he deepens the kiss and his hold on your waist tightens.

when he pulls away, his eyes dance across your face and his mouth rests in a lazy smile.

“what?” you ask, regarding his staring problem

“just so…so fuckin pretty.”

you bite your lip to hide your grin and shake your head. your hair is a mess after all that’s happened and your makeup is smeared. still, hamzah seems mesmerized.

you bury your head in his neck for him to hold you. his hoodie smells like the smoke and a bit of his cologne. you breathe in and out repeatedly, smelling him. he smells so good, so safe.

slowly you slump down to lay on his chest. on instinct, his hand reaches to play with your hair, pushing it out of your face.

it’s funny, hamzah never seemed handsy before this. you never considered him someone who likes physical touch - not with friends or even family, mostly. but with you it’s different. he didn’t expect it either, but as soon as he felt your soft skin on his, he never wanted it any other way.

the motion of him stroking your hair makes you sleepy and eventually your eyes drift closed. you sleep for hours - if you had any actual plans for the day you would wake up stressed and anxious. instead, you wake up and see his head above yours, resting against his pillow.

he’s fallen asleep too.

-

i hope you enjoyed! requests are open! >_<

[michelle-is-writing]

Comfort, Kurt Wagner

Word Count: 1k~

Disclaimers: nightmares, Kurt speaks with a German accent like he does in the movies.

One thing I have learned about Kurt is that he is a very touchy person. He's not touchy as in moody, no, he's touchy as in he constantly wants to be touching me. There's nothing wrong with it, but it does scare me sometimes when I feel his tail wrap around my leg out of no where or when he randomly teleports behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. He's good at unintentionally scaring me, but unfortunately, he also gets scared when I get scared at the same time.

Tonight is a good example of this. Usually, I sleep soundlessly without something disrupting me. However, for some reason, I woke up in the middle of the night for seemingly no reason until a puff of blue smoke with a man in it appeared in front of me suddenly. Of course, like usual, I screamed in surprise, causing Kurt to accidentally teleport again and land on the floor a few feet away with a thud.

"Kurt!" I scold him, turning on the lamp beside my bed. Turning back toward him, I watch as he quickly stands up with a small stumble. Looking over at me, he smiles. How could this boy still be happy when he nearly hurt himself mere moments ago?

"Hi, lovely," Kurt greets me, walking closer to the bed. His pajamas are wrinkled beyond measure and his hair is pointing in every direction possible. "Have you slept vell?"

Glancing toward the clock, my eyes widen. "It's four am, Kurt," I point out, looking back at him to see his eyes cast away from mine as his smile disappears into thin air. "What are you doing up at this time?"

"I-I know it's early," Kurt admits, his voice low and fragile. Rubbing his arm nervously, Kurt continues pointing his yellow eyes away from me and onto the hardwood floor of my room. "I just had a bad dream, and I knew I-I could come to you," he adds, making me stare at him with concern.

"What'd you have a bad dream about, love?" I ask Kurt, watching him shake his head with his eyes now closed. He’s never one to come running after a dream, so I know something has to be bothering him. Kurt is quiet, yes, but when he comes to me seeking comfort, he's usually open to talking to me. This time seems to be different.

"Kurt," I address him, watching his eyes flash back to me in the moonlight. I hold my arms out toward him, giving him a small smile and nod as I know exactly what he wants. "Come on."

As soon as the last words leave my lips, Kurt immediately pulls back my (f/c) comforter and crawls in, curling up within my arms like a cat. Nuzzled close to my chest, his entire body hides underneath the covers while his hands play with the ends of my sweater, his tail having a mind of its own as it wraps around my leg. "I vould prefer it if ve shared a room together like Scott and Jean," He shyly confesses, causing me to smile.

"If that's something you want, I don't see why we can't have it," I tell him, watching as he quickly pokes his head out from underneath the covers.

"Is zhat truly something you vould like, dove?" Kurt asks, staring up at me with questioning eyes.

Once again, I smile before moving his dark away from his face. "I would love it, Kurt," I admit, too tired to even feel embarrassed at my confession. "Now, are you going to tell me what your nightmare was?"

In response to my question, Kurt looks away before gently lying his head on the pillow next to mine, a soft sigh falling from his lips. "You vere attacked in your room," he states, "a-and I teleported as fast as I could to get in here, but I couldn't help you in time and I couldn't... I couldn't save you," He shamefully admits, making me hold him closer to me. Kurt's voice gives away his distress, and it pains me to hear it.

"I can't bear to lose you, (Y/n)," He adds on, one of his blue hands rising from underneath the covers to wipe away a fallen tear. However, before he can, I gently swipe my hand against his cheek, making a tiny smile spread across his lips. "I've been zhinking about us moving into zhe same room for a vhile now, but I didn't know if you vould vant zhat too," in my arms, he lightly shrugs. "I vant to be able to protect you vhenever I can, and I guess my vorries got zhe best of me tonight."

Leaning down, I place a kiss to Kurt's forehead before nuzzling my nose against his. "My room is big enough for us both - we can start moving your stuff in the morning?" I suggest, gaining an even bigger smile from Kurt as he leans forward to kiss me.

"That sounds vonderful, dove!" He almost shouts, causing me to laugh as I gently place my hand over his mouth to lower his voice. Noticing his sudden burst of excitement, Kurt grows a little embarrassed, but continues on. "You mean you vouldn't have a problem vith me living vith you?"

I shake my head at his question, still smiling. "Of course not, baby," I assure him before turning on my other side to press my back against his chest. Kurt quickly takes the chance to move his arms around my waist and hold me close, his tail moving to wrap around my stomach at the same time. "Now, go back to sleep. May I remind you that you woke me up at four in the morning?"

"Of course, mein liebling," Kurt murmurs, leaning over and kissing my cheek. Even after he removes his lips from my skin, I still see him leaning above me as he gazes down at me with a soft, almost peaceful expression. "Please, do go to sleep, and I will be here when you awake."

With his words, I close my eyes and fall into slumber shortly afterward, but not before smiling to myself as the thought of falling asleep like this every night brings happy butterflies to my stomach. I'm in the arms of the man I love who holds me close to him with no intent on letting me go - what more can anybody ask for?

[musings-ofthe-unamused]

CoD Headcanons: Back From a Mission Gone Wrong

A/N: Hello friends! So sorry for not posting in a while. Will try to post some hcs and fics more often!

Please check out my 200 follower giveaway if you want a chance to win a customized fic!!

Ghost:

He's so pissed

At first, he doesn't say a thing 

But finally he explodes

Yelling, getting up close

He won't back down until he's got it all out

And once he does, he just walks away to cool down

"You're fucking insane! You're a trained soldier, not some war hero in a movie!" 

"LT, it was just-"

His voice raised even higher until he was shouting. "No excuses! It was fucking reckless and you know it!"

"What, and you don't get to-"

"Shut the fuck up! This isn't a fucking game! I'm so sick of you trying to pull these stunts. You wanna be punished for insubordination? This is the third fucking time you haven't listened to me! And I'm so fucking sick of it!"

You felt your face growing hot. Everyone stared at the two of you as Ghost continued to yell at you. It felt so unfair. You were just doing what you thought was right. But now he was acting like you have never done a single thing right. With a thick swallow, you lowered your head. You couldn't say a thing. He eventually stopped. And once he did, he walked away, leaving you to face the stares of everyone else.

Soap:

Absolutely in shambles

He was so scared that you were gonna die 

He's dealt with this before, but not in a way like this

Soap has never been so terrified

So as soon as he sees you, he clings onto you

Soap's arms were wrapped securely around you. Normally, you wouldn't mind the affection. But now that your arm was in a sling and you were trying to eat lunch, this was more of a nuisance. You groaned, trying to shake off your clingy boyfriend. He didn't budge. It's been only one day since you came back, but he's acting like you'd disappear in a puff of smoke.

"Soap, I need to eat."

He shook his head. "Five more minutes."

"Are you not embarrassed? We're literally in the cafeteria and everyone is staring." You tried pushing him off once again. No luck. 

"I don't care. I almost lost you, so I'm never letting you go again."

Gaz:

He tries to make it seem like he was calm

He knows your strengths and how you manage to pull through

But Gaz can't help but let out a sigh of relief when he sees you in the infirmary

Gaz would sit down next to you and flash you a smile

Crack a joke about how you're immortal

"Well, well, well. You made it back. How unlucky." Gaz sat next to you on the cot. 

You snorted and rolled your eyes. "Wow. I love your concern for me."

"I can't be concerned." He reached out, grabbing your hand. "I know you'll always come back to me."

"Of course I will."

Price:

A mix of anger and concern

The type to be super silent 

That's when you know you've fucked up

Lecture in his office

Will hug you after

The office was silent except for the ticking of his clock. You watched as Price sat back in his seat, smoking a cigar. Your uninjured hand tapped nervously against your thigh. He had just spent the past twenty minutes lecturing you on being more careful and vigilant on missions. But now was the scary part. The silence.

"Captain, I'm really sorry." You finally managed to speak. "I thought I was in the clear. They just came out of nowhere, and I-"

Your words were interrupted as he suddenly got up from his desk. He stalked over to you and leaned down. He hugged you tightly. Cigar smoke curled around the both of you like a second embrace. Your body relaxed.

"Captain…"

"Don't ever do that again."

"Yes, sir."

Alejandro:

He's there when you arrive on base

Immediately looks you over to make sure you're okay

Will mutter under his breath at how reckless you are

But praises you for getting out of there alive

Alejandro was staring at you with his arms crossed as you limped off the aircraft. You could already see the gears turning in his mind, deciding if he should scold you or immediately send you to the infirmary. When you finally stood in front of him, he lifted your chin with his fingers.

"Look at you. How reckless." He mumbled under his breath. His eyes traveled over your face.

"Sorry."

"I know. But you did good, getting out of there alive. I'm proud of you."

König:

The type of anxious guy that has to be doing something

He knows your hurt when you come back, but he isn't there to see you

Instead, he's in the gym, working out

You actually have to find him 

When he sees you, he just kinda breaks down a bit

König wasn't waiting for you when you got back from the mission. You wanted nothing more than to collapse in his arms and complain about how everything went wrong. And yet, he was nowhere to be found. You searched practically the whole base before finding him in the gym, lifting weights.

"I'm back." You said, walking closer to him.

His back was facing you. "I know."

"Can you look at me?"

He turned around. You could just see his shoulders deflate as he looked at your injured body. You sighed and walked up to him. He buried you in a tight hug, his cheek resting on your head. He squeezed you as tightly as possibly. You felt almost bad for messing up on the mission and worrying him.

Keegan:

Calls you idiotic, but brave

Has a bright smile on his face

Can't believe you got out of there alive

Tells you to not do that shit again

Keegan's hands slowly ran down your arms as he looked over you. His eyes were shining with pride. You had just come stumbling out of the Humvee, dizzy and disoriented. After throwing off your helmet, you stare up at Keegan.

"I didn't die!"

"No, you didn't. You're so stupid."

"But brave, right?"

"Right."

Graves:

Will make fun of you

Never thought you would fuck up a mission that badly

Will be incredibly annoying about it

Doesn't even offer to help you?!

Bitch

Graves couldn't stop laughing. He was doubled over, his hand clutching his stomach. You stood in front of him, battered and bruised. A glare was on your face as you waited for him to finish. Of course he wasn't concerned. He was an asshole, why would he be?

"I can't believe you fucked up so badly!"

"Graves…"

"You crashed into a ditch!"

"Graves, I am bleeding profusely! Shut up and help me!"

[immortalmrwavell]

Sam’s Choice - The Blue Box

(Original story posted November 22nd 2021) This story has been Updated!

Make sure to read ➡️ The Prologue ⬅️ first!

Sam’s gaze darted between the three boxes. Weirdly this felt like one of the biggest choices of his life. Simply picking a box. And yet it probably was since his life could take a very different turn depending on which box he chooses .

It took some time for him to finally come to a decision. Wavell was surprisingly patient though, sitting back in an armchair as he watched Sam struggle. But eventually after taking a long deep breath, he grabbed one of the three boxes. “This one.” he said as held up none other than the *blue* box.

“Alrighty then. Blue it is.” Looking satisfied, Wavell snapped his finger with a glow once more causing the remaining two boxes to vanish in a puff of smoke. “Now. Usually I tend to stick around for the next part… but I think I’ll give you some privacy for this. Besides, I can always use my *magic crystal ball* to rewatch what's about to happen.” Wavell laughed, waving his hands about.

Despite that, Sam couldn’t tell if Wavell was being serious about that or not. He only gulped as Wavell returned to his ghostly form before disappearing through the walls of the hotel. Finally leaving Sam alone with the blue box.

He sat back down on the bed, resting the box on his lap before gently gripping the underside of the lid. There was a pounding sensation in his chest that felt like a mix of both excitement and anxiety as he slowly but surely pulled off the lid.

He had to be honest, what he found inside wasn’t what he was expecting. Sitting in the box was a very large pair of white Nike trainers. They were definitely used judging by the scuff marks and flecks of dirt but they weren’t old either. And to go with each trainer, both seemed to have a white gym sock stuffed inside them..

Immediately Sam could tell they’d been very recently worn. The dirt on the trainers seemed fresh but the main tell was the powerful smell. The moment he opened the lid, Sam could already smell the sweaty stench emanating from the trainers and burning into his nose. Most would be repulsed and yet somehow he found himself drawn to it?…

He tugged one of the gym socks free from the trainers. It was dirty and drenched in sweat. Whoever had been wearing them must’ve been working hard. The smell was so strong and pungent that Sam just couldn’t help himself. Slowly but surely brought the sock up to his nose. His heart started beating faster until finally he pressed the damp sock against his nose. It was intoxicating. Hypnotic even. So much so that he began to lose himself in it. Nose buried deep into the fabric of the sweaty gym sock for god knows how long before he finally came back to his senses with a huge boner. It was then that it hit him. Soon enough he’d be the owner of that manly smell.

There was only one thing left to do.

Sam pulled off his own socks and set them to one side. Then proceeding to take the gym sock he’d just been sniffing feverishly and pulling it over his left foot. It hung a tad bit loose but that was expected since the man who owned the socks seemingly had pretty massive feet. He didn’t want to waste anymore time though as he pulled out the second sock, making sure to give it a long deep sniff before tugging that one over his right foot as well. After which Sam couldn’t help wiggling his toes a little, relishing in the dampness of the socks.

Now that he had the socks on however, it was as though a powerful urge put on the huge trainers overtook Sam’s mind. Naturally couldn’t stop himself from giving the trainers a quick sniff first though. Of course they smelt incredibly pungent and just as intoxicating as the socks. If not more! The way the sweaty masculine aroma they embodied permeated his sense felt like a spell of pure desire was overtaking him. He needed the smell so badly! Butas much as Sam wanted to shove his nose inside the trainers and sniff them for hours on end, he wanted to transform and make the scent his own even more.

He took the left trainer first, bringing it down sliding his foot inside with ease. The trainers were so many sizes larger than his feet that he didn’t even have to undo the laces. Sam wasted no time in pulling on the right trainer to match. Afterwards he stood up from the bed and looked down at his new footwear. He couldn’t help but feel at least a little silly with how oversized the trainers were on him, leaving so much free space. He wriggled his toes inside, allowing a pleasurable shiver to run up his spine as he began to feel musky sweat from the socks blending once again with stench that’d been etched into the inside of the trainers. His cock pulsing excitedly as his own feet absorbed the sweaty smell.

And then finally it started.

A tornado of magic began to surge and spin around Sam, blurring his vision of the hotel room. Before he had time to panic or do anything however, he doubled over in discomfort and rising tension as the most bizarre sensation overtook his body. Sam squeezed his eyes shut as the feeling flooded every nerve. He could feel something changing within him. His body was transforming itself dramatically but he could hardly open his eyes to see what was happening. A confusing mixture of pain and pleasure took over as everything about his appearance changed in order to transform him into a perfect visage of the man that once wore those big smelly trainers. Even his clothes seemed to change!

After what felt like an eternity, the transformation began slow as it reached completion. The whirlwind of magical energy started to dissipate just as Sam opened his eyes. Immediately he could tell he was no longer in the hotel. As the magic vanished completely, Sam could see that he was now in a small room that looked sort of like a messy office.

Looking around he quickly noticed two computer desks but immediately he could tell this wasn’t an ordinary office simply due to how the room was also filled with sports gear. There were bags full of footballs and rugby balls lying around along with an air pump for if any of them went flat. A bunch of mismatched trainers and football cleats lying near the door alongside a box that had ‘spare kit’ written on it. Boxes full of rackets of baseball bats along with the matching balls to go along with them. The walls were covered in all sorts of gym and sports related posters and awards. There was even a shelf with a couple trophies on it. He also didn’t fail to notice the underlying post workout stench mixed with men’s deodorant filling the room. If Sam didn’t know any better he’d say he was in a coach’s office. Suddenly the trainers he was wearing made complete sense.

Speaking of Sam suddenly realised something. The trainers no longer felt loose. In fact his feet now felt as though they fit snugly inside them. Filling out the damp interior of the huge scruffy trainers perfectly as if his feet had been molded to them. That wasn’t all however. As Sam looked down at himself he was quick to see that not only was he now wearing a new short sleeved t-shirt and shorts but also that his entire damn body had changed! He’d felt it happening but seeing it with his bare eyes was mind boggling!

The first thing Sam focused on was his chest… he actually had pecs!? Granted they weren’t enormous like the bodybuilders you see online. They were modest and built naturally from a life of sport and activity. He couldn’t help grabbing at them through the blue shirt he now found himself wearing, kneading them with a curious lust before eventually moving his hands down his torso.

Sam lifted up his shift a little, allowing one hand to rub a hand across the light fuzz that now adorned his stomach. Fuzz that no doubt led up towards and covered his chest judging by what he’d felt moments ago. Manly body hair, yet another thing he didn’t have before.

At this point his heart rate began to accelerate and the reality of the situation began to settle in. Any small doubts he may have had before were squashed. This was real. Immediately his gaze slithered even further down his body and towards his crotch. He remembered that changing as well as he transformed. He didn’t even need to see it. He could already tell simply by the heavier weight between his legs that it was longer and fatter with a huge pair of nuts to match. He was both anxious and excited to whip it out and see what his new cock looked like. Yet, just as he was about to pull back the waistband on his new gym shorts, Sam caught sight of his legs.

“Holy fuuuuuuuuckk.” Sam blurted out as he saw how thick and powerful his legs looked, simultaneously surprising himself with how deep and manly his voice sounded. “Woah… my voice… I sound like a real fuckin man.” Sam mumbled to himself in wonder as he rubbed his throat, quickly taking note of his new thick and full beard as he did. Prompting him to then run his hands up towards his face and over his new scruffy beard and rough masculine features. All feeling completely foreign to him yet so right at the same time.

Turning his attention back to his legs, Sam couldn’t help but marvel at how huge his calves looked. They were shaped like thick diamonds and would probably be just as hard if he flexed them. Not to mention his juicy thighs too. Sam found himself tugging up his new shorts a little to get a better look at them as well and before long found himself bending down just so he could run his hands over them. Admiring his new quads, hams and calves while also relishing in the layer of manly body hair that coated them too. He couldn’t help squeezing and groping his calves for a moment as well just as he had with his pecs.

While he was down there he couldn’t help glancing at his trainers as well. Being bent down like this meant he could already smell them faintly. The very trainers that made all this possible. He couldn’t help wriggling his feet slightly, delighting in his large they felt now as those damp sweaty gym socks and trainers hugged his feet perfectly. *His* gym socks and trainers.

As his hands glided slowly back up his legs, he couldn’t help but let them wander to his backside. After feeling up his legs, he was desperate to know what he was working with back there as well. Thankfully he was more than satisfied as his hands grasped at two incredibly well sculpted globes of thick muscle filling out the back of his shorts. “Oh godddd…” He moaned in a deep baritone. “I get a fat cock *and* a fat ass??” He groaned while squeezing and kneading his fat bubbly ass cheeks some more. “I *definitely* made the right choice.” He added with a dumb grin.

At last though, once Sam was finally able to stop groping his own ass, his attention finally returned to the now very evident bulge in his shorts. It’d been difficult to ignore while he felt his legs and ass. His new thick cock had swelled up to its full rock hard size in all the excitement Sam was feeling and now it was straining painfully against his shorts in the form of a huge tent. At last Sam gave in, tugging on the waistband for both his shorts and boxer briefs before pulling them down just enough for his cock to spring out aggressively.

The way it bucked and pulsed caused Sam’s mouth to hang agape for a moment. It was as though he was mesmerised by the mere sight of his new thick cock, eyes fixated on it as though it were a hypnotic pendulum. Before long he found himself gripping it tightly, relishing in its girth. Then, just as he’d begun to pump his cock an intense sensation shot through his groin and up towards his brain. Suddenly a voice began ringing through his head. Wavell’s voice.

“Shoot and release your former self. Absorb this identity and become the man you were always meant to be. Shoot and release. Shoot and release!” Those words continued to echo through Sam’s mind. Forcing him to jerk faster and faster. He was hardly in control of himself. He just needed to jerk off! He needed to shoot and release!

The sensation was almost beyond pleasure. It felt so good that Sam couldn’t hold on any longer as he felt his cock and balls tense. After that all Sam could do was let out a long deep manly roar that filled the small office as he uncontrollably shot huge rope after rope of thick creamy man seed onto the desk in front of him. Letting go of who he was before and allowing everything to finally slot into place.

As his dick continued pulsing while still dripping with cum, Sam was suddenly hit with a wave of new memories belonging to the man who’s identity he’d now stolen. His new name now was Jonathan Richards, or Jon for short, and his assumption from earlier turned out to be correct. He was indeed a coach, a high school coach at that. He gained memories about all his new colleagues, family members, friends, students and his new self of course.

It was in the flurry of memories that Sam also realised that Jon was a straight man! He even had a wife! For a moment he was worried that he’d have to live out the rest of his life as a straight man as he could feel all of Jon’s personality traits beginning to weld themselves into his mind. But thankfully he remained as gay as ever. He should’ve known a guy like Wavell would never let that happen. Perfect. From now on this juicy dick would only be fucking juicy man butt’s. Speaking off he’d need to get his own virgin bubble ass fucked as well! It was far too thick and perfect to go to waste.

That’s when Sam suddenly remembered about the fate of the real Jon. His soul should still be trapped inside his own trainers! Sam looked down at huge trainers clinging to his feet with a wide grin. He took a seat at one of the desks before untying his laces and pulling off one of the two trainers, delighted to see his now massive foot slide out of it. The moment his foot was free, clad in one of the same sweaty gym socks he’d been sniffing feverishly back at the hotel, the air around him filled with that pungent musk he loved so much. And now it belonged to him!

Sam brought the trainer up to eye level and smirked cockily. “Thanks for this hot fucking body Jon. I’m gonna love every moment of your life from now on. Don’t worry though, I’ll be sure to wear you as often as possible so you get to watch me do it. Watch as I blend in with your colleges. Watch as I effortlessly coach your students. Watch as I leave your wife after she walks in on me fucking another dude. Hopefully while I’m getting this fat hairy ass plowed into.” He gave the possessed shoe a sinister grin.

Just then without warning, Sam stuck his nose inside the trainer and gave it a long deep sniff before pulling back with a gasp. “Damn these huge feet have stunk you up real nice havent they? Better get used to it.” He taunted while stretching his feet inside to the other shoe which he assumed Jon was also inhabiting. “I’m sure it won’t be hard to find some guys who are gonna love huffing my musky scent out of you though.” He laughed in an almost evil tone before reaching down and stuffing his foot back inside the trainer.

With that Sam checked the time. It wouldn’t be long now before the other two coaches come back from their lessons. That in mind he quickly got to work cleaning up the sticky mess he’d made all over what now happened to be his desk. But after that he couldn’t wait to start blending in as the new Jon from now on.

Meanwhile the real Jon was helpless. He couldn’t do a thing as he’d be forced to smell his own sweaty foot musk almost everyday while watching this imposter live out his life! He hoped that someone would notice. That someone would see that this doppelgänger wearing him wasn’t *actually* him. Hopefully someone would be able to fix this! But as days passed it became clear that nobody could tell the difference.

Over time Jon’s will would start to weaken as he was forced to sniff his imposter's musk and absorb his sweat constantly. The very sweat and musk that was once his. Now being used against him as it broke down his resolve to the point where he started to wonder if this man that’d taken over his life really was the real Jon after all. Maybe he really was just a dumb pair of smelly trainers that was supposed to serve his master. Who was he to have any real thoughts of his own? His only purpose was to be a good pair of trainers.

It wouldn’t be long before he’d witness the new Jon starting to hook up with other men he’d met online and even one or two of his male colleagues. Fucking them with his huge cock and then acting all slutty and showing off his fat bubble ass whenever he wanted them to breed his hole. It should’ve been torture. But the soul that inhabited the trainers had accepted his new role now given in completely to his former musk. He wasn’t Jon anymore. Jon was his master. He no longer cared about his body or how the new Jon was completely and utterly gay. He did however love it when his master got some horny guy to start shoving their nose inside him.

———

“Well, it seems like he was more than satisfied with that body.” Wavell muttered to himself when he eventually checked in on Sam. Or rather Jon as he preferred to be called now. He’d given it some time and was glad to see just how well things seemed to be going for the former psychic medium.

At it turned out, he walked in on Jon getting his fat gym coach ass fucked by a huge burly bear of a man. Despite Jon’s large stature, this bearish brute still seemed to dwarf him in size as he pinned Jon down and drilled into his hole. From what Wavell could tell, this man was another teacher at the school Jon worked at. He skimmed through the bear’s memories and apparently he’d been craving Jon’s ass for years now but had held off since Jon was straight. Only now that wasn’t the case anymore and his dream was coming true at last by finally having the chance to slam into that hot hairy bubble butt on Jon’s.

Wavell then turned his gaze to the pair of trainers sitting across the room. Perfectly positioned so that they could see the entire scene unfold. How very cheeky of Jon.

It was then that the door to the bedroom burst open and in came Jon’s wife! At first her expression was furious, probably having assumed Jon was sleeping with another woman. But her expression quickly turned to shock as she saw another massive man on top of her husband, slamming down into him.

Wavell couldn’t help but chuckle at the drama of it all as the wife ran out of the bedroom as fast as her legs would take her. Likely being too shocked to even process what she’d seen. Meanwhile Jon told the bear to keep going and that he’d deal with his wife after his ass had been stuffed with cum.

After that the warlock was free to sit back and relax as the two men got back into the rhythm. All the while he couldn’t help but wonder how Jon was going to handle the situation with his wife and whether he was going to stick with his bearish colleague after this or find some other dudes to fuck. He was definitely going to stick around for awhile to see how all this unfolded.

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Hi! For the kink thing you're doing - could we please please get a Billy Russo competency + overstim kink (or competency and praise, whichever pairing you prefer). In my mind the reader gets *ideas* when Billy is building something (bc those damn IKEA dressers are difficult) or maybe she goes to Anvil one day and sees him doing like training with recruits or something? Anyway, sorry for the ramble and thank you in advance!

I am!

Masterlist

In the Sniper's Nest

Contains: Consent and kink negotiation, hand kink (you get an extra one), competency kink, fingering, overestimation, P in V, fluff.

1.5K words

You check out the new instalment at Anvil, a sniper's nest that Billy seems to love.

Despite his ear protection, he still heard you ascending the steps of the sniper's nest. It was Anvil's newest toy, the tall structure standing out above the skyline of the flat warehouse. He pulled aside his ear muff and pulled the earplug free, pushing himself up from his position lying on the table in the middle of the room to rush over to greet you. "Hi."

You tapped your own ear muff with a smile. "What?"

He pulled them off your head and placed them around your neck as you yanked the earplugs out. "These are a good look for you."

You chuckled. "Yes, that gun is very loud."

He smiled and leaned down to kiss you, his hand soft on your cheek as you leaned against him. He pulled away, brushing your hair from your face as he looked down at you lovingly. "Now what are you doing here?"

You sighed. "I missed you, you've been busy and we've been missing our lunch dates." You furrowed your brow. "Why are you in your suit?" Normally during training, he wore his grey fatigues.

He sighed. "I just got done showing our client our new space. They were very impressed."

You took the chance to look around the small room. It was set up like an embedded sniper outpost, the walls covered in large charts about wind speed and bullet type, even though it was furnished like a dining room in a dilapidated apartment. The only things that really stood out were the new couch in one corner and the shelves of binoculars and PEE along one wall. "It looks even better than the photos." It really felt like you were in enemy territory.

He took your hand and led you to the table, gesturing to his rifle with a smile. "You wanna watch?"

You nodded, and he walked around the table to the shelves, picking up a pair of safety glasses and a set of binoculars. He placed the binoculars on the table and pulled you close, sliding the safety glasses over your face before booping your nose as you held back your giggles. "You're being silly, Billy."

He bent his head and kissed you again before helping you climb onto the table and settling next to you. His shoulder was back bracing the riffle as you looked through the lens, and the shot shook the room while smoke billowed from the barrel. You didn't see anything until he tapped your shoulder and pointed to one of the trees at the very edge of the property. Another look clarified what he was shooting at as another shot rang out, and a left was blown clear of its branch.

It happened like that each time, the green leaves disappearing in a puff as the boom of the gun jerked the table until he ran out of bullets. When he finally placed the weapon on the ground, you still found yourself unable to look away from the sight, he hadn't missed a shot the whole time. He ran his hand all the way up your back, finally breaking your attention away from the tree. You removed everything from your head and turned backwards to face them. "That was very impressive."

He was smiling, his ego clearly boosted by the look of amazement on your face. "I gotta go back to the armoury and clean my rifle. You wanna come?"

You nodded. "Of course I do."

The trip was short, only down the stairs and through a door before you were standing in an expansive space loaded with guns. He made his way to the large table with you following close behind and began to dissemble the weapon, taking it apart piece by piece before cleaning each part with care, his face a mask of concentration as the burnt gun powdered turned into shiny metal.

"You see something you like?" He looked so smug.

You most definitely did, each movement of his slender fingers was precise and controlled more like a dance than a tedious process he could do with his eyes closed and one hand tied behind his back. "Yes, many things, would you like me to list them?"

If you thought he was smug before, that was nothing compared to how he was now. "Nah, I think I have a pretty good idea."

The gun was put away in his personal spot, and he washed his hands in the slop skin as you watched on, swaggering up to you and lifting you onto the table when he was done. "You need something from be gorgeous girl?"

You nodded. "Many things."

He settled between your spread legs, his fingertips playing with the hem of your jeans as he gazed into your eyes. "Are my fingers one of them?"

It was hard to concentrate on anything when he was touching you, but you knew if you didn't answer, nothing would happen. "Yes, I would like that very much."

He smirked and popped open your jeans, slowly undoing the zip if only to toy with you before his fingers met your core. "You got something you need to tell me about, because there's no way my poor landscaping and the smell of gun oil has got you this wet."

He wasn't pulling any punches, there was no tease or slow build, he was doing exactly what he needed to bring you right to the edge before your brain could catch up. "You're very good at things…" You took a deep breath to gather yourself as heat spread out from where his fingers were on you. "And I like that you're good at things."

The feeling of his fingers leaving your skin shocked you into action and you tugged at his clothes while he tugged at yours, and before long, you were both naked with your clothes in little piles around you. "You know what else I'm good at?"

You knew exactly what answer he was looking for by the way his thumb was rubbing at the inside of your thigh. "Yes, yes I do."

He smiled and returned to touching you with the same insistence as before. It didn't take long for the pressure to build in your core, and he knew it. His beard scratched your skin as his lips worried at your neck, and he smiled into your skin as you clenched around nothing. He didn't stop there, his long fingers filling you before the aftershocks could fade.

Everything was so steady and practised, the fingertips on your G-spot, his lips on yours, each move intentional and purposeful until you were once again cresting the hill into bliss. He was unrelenting, pushing and pushing and pushing until one orgasm faded into another and space reduced to just the two of you in the empty Anvil warehouse.

"Please, Billy, I can't take it anymore." That was only half a lie, you could have told him no if you needed to.

He chuckled warmly, pulling his hand away and sucking his fingers into his mouth with a groan before speaking. "So you don't want me inside you?"

His tone held just a hint of mischief, and you nipped his shoulder as he chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes."

You nodded. "Yes please."

His forehead fell against yours as he slid inside you, taking a careful pace as you leaned your weight into him. He wrapped his arms around your body, controlling the pace as you wove one hand into his hair and held the table with the other. As his speed picked up, he pulled back to watch your blissed out face, grunting like an animal with every thrust as he took in the sight of your screwed tight eyes and heaving chest. "Billy..I."

He kissed you softly, whispering against your lips as his fingers made their way to your clit. "I know, gorgeous, I can feel it. How about you be a good girl and cum for me again."

You were powerless to resist his request, not when he said it so sweetly and as you were swept into the undertow of it, his teeth sunk into your lower lip as he followed you.

You stayed together for a breath before he finally stepped back, smirking as you twitched. "Sorry."

You huffed. "No you're not."

He kissed the corner of your mouth with a smile. "You're right about that."

He reached down for your clothes, dressing you piece by piece before dressing himself. Your eyes went wide, and he paused, looking at you intently as if he could decipher your worry. "Umm, is Jerry watching the cameras?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "I made sure they were turned off when we walked in here."

You fained offence and shoved his shoulder playfully. "You ass, you planned this from the start."

He nodded and kissed you again. "Yep. You can't be mad, you love me."

You sighed. "I do but I'm expecting you to make it up to me, I can't have you scheming all the time."

The look of lust on his face told you what he was thinking. "Oh, don't worry, I will."

Fin

@thegirlwhowritesfics

[weniswastelandwenis]

Companions React To Sole Announcing Her Pregnancy

Cait:

She was neither happy, nor sad for Sole. She offhandedly told her “Congratulations on the wee one” when they swapped out guard shifts. Months upon months passed, and finally little Shaun 2 was born.

Cait’s heroine business was getting lean in the resource department, so she snuck into Sole’s house when she was sleeping, slipping through the back window. She shuffled quietly through the kitchen, checking closet to closet, until finally, jackpot. Baby powder. “Finally, I’ll be able to turn a profit!”

 The next day Sole asked around if anyone had seen her missing baby powder. She was within the vicinity of cait’s house, and passed by an unsafe looking individual that swapped items with cait. ‘Can’t judge a book by it’s cover!’ Sole thought, a smile on her face.

Cait spotted her and attempted to shut her front door, but Sole got her boot in it first. “Heyyy Cait! I was just asking around, did you happen to see a bottle of baby powder anywhere? Mine just abruptly went missing.” Cait’s gaze shifted to her desk, then back to Sole, then to the desk. “Uhh, no, why’r you asking me that? What would I need baby powder for? I don’t like what you’re implyin’. Get out me house!” And with that, she shoved Sole out the front door and slammed it in her face.

From that point on, whenever Sole would miraculously find another bottle of baby powder, it would strangely disappear in the night. Cait’s front yard had a mile-long line of drifters and ne-er do wells on it at all times, and Shaun turned to dust due to improper infant care.

Codsworth: 

He knows this is his own doing. Codsworth realizes with a heavy heart that he now has another set of lives to worry about and protect in the wasteland. He’d already lost sole once, and ever since his heart had turned to stone.

Codsworth goes to the local chapel and prays for forgiveness for what he was about to do. He’d never forgiven Sole for dying and for leaving him behind in the blast. Codsworth tells sole he’s going out to buy diapers for the little toaster, and all he leaves behind is a pack of cigarettes and a puff of smoke. Between a wave of hookers a booze, Codsworth is never seen again. 

Curie: 

She cooed that a young human child, Sole’s child, would be joining them all shortly. She had always loved babies, and Dr. Collins and her frequently tested on them to find ways for humanity to survive the irradiated wasteland in the future.

One day, Sole and some of her companions had to leave and help one of the settlements. Curie was entrusted to watch the baby, to which she agreed to do with extreme fervor. “The little one will be safe with me Mademoizelle.” Sole tossed the toddler like a football and Curie went long. “So long!” Curie almost squealed.

Immediately she took the baby to her test chambers which she had been secretly building in a shack, not too far from Sanctuary. The child was given many different experimental vaccines and medicines, which didn’t do much of anything. Curie started losing hope. Then, something happened.

The baby started growing. And growing. It bust out of the flimsy tin shack they were both in. Then it kept growing to the size of a skyscraper. Curie began crying happy tears, and fell to her knees. “Humanity finally has a chance to survive! Mr Collins, we did it!”

Danse: 

Was excited he would have the opportunity to brainwash another unwilling victim over to the brotherhood. “It’s time to stay with Uncle Danse, Shaun Jr. Be good!” Sole said on the way out of the house, off to her go-go dancing. The baby and Danse locked eyes. “Let’s begin.”

For non-stop 13 hours, Shaun Jr was to perform Brotherhood drills, which were demanding on his baby body. Danse custom-built him a tiny power armor suit. The pair of them traveled the wasteland, going door to door and handing out pamphlets about the danger of ghouls and feminism.

Sole finally arrived home, and the baby she left was not the baby now in front of her. His brow was furrowed. His fist, clenched. He had been indoctrinated. Sole wept.

Deacon:

Deacon has always felt insecure and unsure of his place in soles life. When he hears she is with child deacon is overjoyed at first, he cant wait to have a baby around to put tiny sunglasses on and teach to spy. But deacon soon realizes that if the baby is born, then deacon will be replaced as the bald man in soles life and sole wont have time for deacon anymore.

Deacon spends hours and hours waxing and polishing his bald head so that it would stand out as the most bulbous and waxed head in the world- even better than the new born babies. Sadly, deacon doesn’t realize that sole loves him for more than his bald head and deacon spends so much time waxing and polishing his head that he neglects his friendship with sole.

Sole runs away and gets attacked by a deathclaw as Deacon stares in the mirror, transfixed by the glow of his own bald head. 

Hancock: 

In the midst of all the cheers and laughter, Hancock is silent. He is seen tugging at the collar of his mayoral shirt, and sweating ghoul bullets. Weeks pass, and Sole finds he is being distant and avoiding her.

Finally, she confronts him as he’s taking a leak on an irradiated tree, making him stop mid-piss. “Ok, it’s time to end this!” She screamed. Hancock zipped up his jorts hastily and turned around, attempting to look charismatic and casual but failing. Sole could tell in his inky, black eyes that something was bothering him, deeply. He sighed.

“You’re right. You don’t deserve this, Sole. It’s just that… What if your baby… Looks like me?” A ghoul tear fell from his empty, soulless eye and dropped, joining his piss on the ground.

Soul walked over to him, and put a friendly hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm his quiet, shaky breaths. “Hancock… No matter what my baby looks like, I’d love them. Just like I love you.” Then she smirked. “Besides, it’s Strong’s baby.”

MacCready: 

Maccready knows an opportunity when he sees it. Caps are his main priority, and when the going is tough he’s willing to get down in the dirt and be a street rat like every other wastelander.

That night after throwing Sole a party to celebrate her pregnancy (and wearing a sinister smile the whole time) Maccready changes into an outfit of all black and sneaks out in the dead of night. He makes contact with Jeanie May, and hands her a certain contract… Sole and the baby are sold for fifty caps and Maccready has a few free rounds of beer. 

Valentine:

After Sole essentially saved the commonwealth and beat the Institute threat, business had been slow. Upon hearing that Sole was with child, the lighbulb attached to his robo-head went off. 10 months pass and Sole had a perfectly healthy baby boy, whom she oddly named Shaun. For many days and many nights, the other companions would give Sole gifts and attention, leaving the old detective to collect rust in his office. He tented his metal fingers. “It’s time.”

(1 day later, 16:00) A flurry of footsteps is heard outside, and Nick wore a wry smile. Bells jingled as the door slammed open. Sole looked beside herself, in an unkempt state, and more manic than he’d ever seen her. “It’s Shaun! Nick… He’s-He’s gone!” She clenched his desk and let out a massive, eight wheeler, tractor trailer-size fart. “I can’t do this again Nick, I just can’t!!!” 

“Calm down Sole, it’s going to be alright. Thanks to my handy-dandy detective skills, we’re gonna get your boy back. For real this time.” That seemed to ease her anxiety, just a tad.

For many days and many nights they made fliers, and Nick’s business was more popular than ever before. He was able to afford an irradiated limousine, yacht, and robo-wife. Life was good. He finally decided he had acquired enough material goods, at least for now, to be satisfied.

Making sure no one was following him, he walked behind one of the houses in Sanctuary to the hidden bunker no one knew existed. Inside was baby shaun. The thought of her child not being lost after all, and right under Sole’s nose made him chuckle darkly with glee. That bitch.

Picking him up disgustedly, he began walking to the square of sanctuary only for a blur of color to appear in his peripheral vision. His orbs weren’t as strong as they used to be, and when he recognized what it was, it was too late. A deathclaw swallowed Shaun whole, burped, and walked away. 

Piper:

She knows there's a story here, there just has to be. Piper frets long hours of the night in front of her evil magic mirror, plotting a way to get publik occurrences on the world map.

Through extensive research and bribing Piper finds out that Sole has a serious disease from being cryogenically frozen and she will die soon. Piper waits until the baby turns 18 to announce in a tell all article that the baby has blood poisoning from their mothers cryogenic freezing.

She had been studying the effects on a human from birth ever since the baby was born, and now her research has made her millions of caps. She also adds that soles child has two days left to live and sips her wine from her pimp chalice with a smirk. 

Preston:

Preston decides to raise this baby just like he was raised, to protect and serve the minutemen. He tries to raise the baby with the best values he can, but soon shaun starts to act out. First its a stolen candy bar, then it’s vandalism. Preston has a good talk with them every time and he tries to reinstall those values, but shaun never listens.

One day shaun acts out again by leaving the kitchen door opened with the air conditioner on, and preston makes them go outside and count the flowers. 

Strong: 

Smashed the baby, killing it instantly.

X6: 

Sees this baby as an opportunity for the institute, which is quickly failing with no leader. He tracks down Edward Deegan, and forces him to hand over the mystery serum, which he reverse engineers into an aging serum.

One quiet night, he sneaks into Sole’s house and babynaps her child. “Welcome back, Father. My creator.” He says in a quiet prayer before injecting the child. It happens in a flash; where once there was a baby, there now was an old man.

The issue was, he still had the mind of a baby. X6 strangely did not consider this before carrying out this plan, and picked up old-man baby Shawn and set him back in his crib. Back to the drawing board, he thought.

[shinehyuk]

ENHYPEN reaction to S/O fainting because of "training"

‣ Genre : yandere, requested

tw/cw : abuse, violence, obsession, extremely toxic relationships, very heavy themes, sadistic tendencies etc., please do not read if sensitive/uncomfortable! i do NOT support the behavior shown in this work!

Jungwon :

— He'll feel really bad for pushing you way past your limits, which only resulted in you blacking out; sure, you had to get a reminder of your place, but seeing your passed out, weak body only fills him with a sense of guilt

— All the anger that built up inside him before disappeared like a puff of smoke, the male only now caring about making you rest up and be as comfortable as you can possibly be. However, don't think that you'll be treated like a royalty when you wake up; it'll take some time to earn his forgiveness after your little disobedience from before

— “I'm only letting you off this once, so be grateful. Don't get used to it, love.”

Heeseung :

— He'll be annoyed at first, waiting until you woke up to continue the training. Did you really think that you can fool him with your little blacking out? He's almost sure that you did it only to try to get out of the punishment

— Depending on his mood and how severe your actions were for you to need a "training", he'll either have pity on you and let you go or he'll "train" you until he feels like it's enough to get through your thick head.

— “Oh, you're tired, now? Should've thought about that before trying to leave me, darling. Those are only the consequences of your own actions.”

Jay :

— If you think that little silly act of yours is enough to make him forgive and forget all about your punishment, you're dead wrong, and he's more than happy to prove it to you

— He'll only wait for you to stop your stupid act to continue the punishment; the only way that he can ensure that you will never disobey him again is tough, intense "training", whether you like it or not. As for him, seeing you face the consequences of your behavior is quite satisfying

— “Did you really fucking expect to fool me with that idiotic play? Dream on, love; I know too much about you to actually believe that kind of bullshit.”

Jake :

— He'll instantly stop whatever he was doing to take care of you; right now, instead of your unfinished training, you're his top priority. The punishment can wait a little while

— The male will handle you with care, blaming himself for overexerting you. The original plan was quite simple; he was only supposed to only remind you of the established rules and your place right by his side, but he got too carried away by his emotions and ended up hurting you

— “I'm sorry, love.. But this is exactly why you can't disobey me, okay? The next time, I won't be so kind to you.”

Sunghoon :

— He'll scoff, more than slightly irritated that your little training session was forced to come to an end so abruptly; however, if he feels like it, he'll take care of you out of pity

— Once you wake up, he expects you to be grateful, thanking him from his mercy. But the next time, don't think that he'll be so very sweet to let you rest up again. No, the training will be twice worse than before; and he won't let you go so easily

— “Thank you? Is that all you have to say? Tsk, you're even more ungrateful than I thought.”

Sunoo :

— He'll be terrified, tears sliding down his face as he realizes just how much he has overexerted you; will you ever be able to forgive him for what he has done? He'll be filled with immense guilt, blaming himself until you wake up

— He'll be scared to even touch you or be in the same room as you, scared that by doing that he'll only somehow manage to hurt you again. He'll be skittish around you for a long time until he can fully trust himself again

— “I-I'm so sorry, my love! I really didn't mean to hurt you.. Please, don't hate me, I love you so much..”

Ni-Ki :

— All the anger that he was feeling before completely left his body after he saw you fall, the male's hands shaking as he gently picks you up, cursing at himself for overworking you so much

— He'll sit by your bed and wait until you wake up, giving you a glass of water and some food to regain your energy when you awaken, pretending to be irritated as to hide his care for you

— “..Are you really this stupid? You should've asked for a break if you were feeling this bad.. Sigh.. You're really impossible, stupid.”

thank you for requesting! i hope you liked it <3

‣ Taglist : @annoyingbitch83 @atiny-chocolate-chip @lmaoskz @sunoo-bby  @heemingyu @nikipedia07 @effulgentfireflies

[seabirdtxt]

.Irminsul Push/Pull

You, the Creator, experience your first day with the world's weirdest roommates. [< prev] [Blog tag] [next >]

Notes: SAGAU, reader is the Creator but no cult shenanigans. mild swearing. very gentle puppet bullying, it's probably the cain instinct or smth. all relationships are currently platonic!

WC. 1.8k

----- ⚘ -----

You’re not super sure what you thought telepathic communication was going to feel like, probably assuming you would hear the voice of the other person saying their message out loud in your head.

In reality, it ends up being more like receiving a text message. In all caps. In your head.

GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE.

You sit up in your bed with a frown when the message suddenly crosses your mind. You check outside the mansion’s window, deeming it to be relatively early in the morning. Curious, you slide out from under the covers and shuffle your way downstairs.

Your curiosity quickly turns to irritation as you hear the sound of tools being thrown and voices arguing coming from the direction of Kabukimono’s room, the only currently inhabited room on the ground floor. 

You slowly push open the unlatched door and quickly duck to avoid a flying object—what is that? a pair of tongs?—that was aimed somewhere in the vicinity of your head. 

“- told you you can’t cook on the forge!” Kabukimono shouts, whiny and furiously stomping around, tossing loose tools around the room. Scaramouche is standing a little ways away from him, holding a bowl of ingredients with a bored look on his face.

“It’s a heat source, isn’t it?” The Balladeer asks, rolling his eyes. “If I can light it on fire, it can cook things.”

“No you can’t! I have to keep it way too hot to cook things,” Kabukimono scolds him, brandishing a metal poker in his direction. “And if you get food crumbs and oil in it, it might affect the quality of the metal! I won’t let you use it, and that’s final!”

“What else am I supposed to use, then?” Scaramouche growls, gesturing widely. “It’s not like this genius Creator of yours, in their boundless wisdom, made a kitchen.”

Whoops. Your eyes scan the room, surveying the damage, until your gaze lands on a terrified Cuppy hiding under a coat rack behind you, close to the door.

“Hey, buddy,” you whisper, inching closer to him. “D’you think you can turn one of the ground floor rooms into a kitchen really quick?”

The little teacup spirit nods frantically and disappears in a puff of smoke, presumably to fulfill your request as fast as possible. 

You look around the room again and spot Wanderer hovering above the other two, one leg crossed over the other in a pose hilariously similar to Ei when she’d been meditating in the Plane of Euthymia. You wave to catch his attention, and he looks over at you with a wry expression before zooming over to where you are.

“About time you got here,” he snarks, landing delicately beside you. “These idiots have been going at it for about twenty minutes now.” 

“I just asked Cuppy to make one of the rooms a kitchen,” you tell him. “I totally forgot about that, I don’t usually make a kitchen inside the Traveler’s teapot, so…”

“Yeah, you use the outdoor one, right?” 

You nod, having briefly forgotten that Wanderer had seen your layout of the Traveler’s realm before. As you’re musing on this, Wanderer darts forward and smacks the underside of Scaramouche’s bowl, causing it to escape the Balladeer’s grasp and sending ingredients flying in all directions, much to Kabukimono’s displeasure. 

“What the- why would you do that?!” Kabukimono wails, his argument interrupted. “Look at this mess! Niwa would have a heart attack if he saw this!” 

“Half of this garbage is yours,” Scaramouche points out, expression thunderous as he picks up one of the smaller prongs on the ground and uses it to take a swing at Wanderer, who takes to the air and floats out of reach with a smirk. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” Wanderer says with a shrug. “I was just getting so sick of hearing you guys whining like babies for no reason.” 

“Okay, and you needed to waste perfectly good ingredients, why?” Scaramouche snaps, bending to pick up his now empty bowl and waving it at Wanderer threateningly, visibly restraining himself from flying off the handle.

“Because it’s not like you were gonna actually use them,” Wanderer snaps back. “I am you, and I know for a fact that you can barely make cup noodles if someone else did the preparation for you.” 

Scaramouche quickly turns red in the face as Kabukimono laughs at him, so you step in before another argument can break out.

“Guys, come on, I think Cuppy finished making a kitchen,” you say placatingly, hands outstretched and palms up. The three puppets look at you with varying levels of skepticism. 

You lead the way out of the trashed room, picking one of the other doors at random and hoping that it’s the one Cuppy chose. Mentally keeping your fingers crossed, you turn the knob and open the door, and freeze in the doorway, prompting at least two of the puppets to peer over your shoulder at the scene inside.

Cuppy did, indeed, choose this room. It’s one of the Mondstat-themed bedrooms, and what the teacup spirit did was put a single stove in the middle of the room and replace the bookshelves with jars and cupboards. Everything else about the decor, including the bed, carpet, and wardrobe, is the exact same.

Wanderer can’t seem to help himself about this, either, and bursts out laughing. 

“You call this a kitchen?” Scaramouche asks, pointing at the lonely stove sitting beside the Mond-style bed frame. 

“I think he did a great job,” you try, covering your mouth with one hand to hide your amused grin. Thankfully, it seems Cuppy made his escape as soon as he renovated, because he’s nowhere to be seen. 

“I don’t get it,” Kabukimono says, and you can feel him pushing someone (Scaramouche) behind you to see the rest of the room, to the person’s (Scaramouche’s) protests. “What’s so funny? A good stove and a well-stocked pantry is more than okay.” 

“And,” you interject through your repressed giggles, eager to defend your little teacup spirit. “Having a bed nearby just means you can lay back and relax while you wait for your food to cook!” 

“Are you serious right now? It’s just a stove in the middle of a bedroom!” Scaramouche protests, pushing you aside and stomping into the room. He points at the stove, and then at the carpet it’s sitting on. “This cannot be safe, right? This breaks all kinds of safety regulations.” 

“We’ll just move it aside, it’s fine,” you say, hoping to diffuse the situation. 

“It’s understandable,” Kabukimono agrees. “It’s not like he’s seen a proper kitchen before, right?”

Even Wanderer stops laughing as the three of you stare owlishly at Kabukimono, who shuffles nervously under the attention.

“What?” Kabukimono asks defensively. 

“I actually hadn’t thought of that,” you mutter, hands on your hips as you survey the room with new consideration. “He is pretty small, and who knows if he ventured outside of the realm before…” 

The other two remain silent, seemingly contemplating Kabukimono’s words but not voicing their opinions on it.

IS IT BAD THAT I FEEL BAD FOR LAUGHING?

You hide your flinch well, the sudden message scaring you out of your own thoughts. You steal a glance at Wanderer out of the corner of your eye, where he’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He doesn’t look you in the eye, instead pretending to be very interested with the shelf of ingredients near him.

‘I think that's just normal’ you think, hoping he somehow receives your thoughts as well. ‘I didn’t think of it either, so we’re all kinda wrong…’

While you’re distracted, Scaramouche has already started lighting the stove, having kicked aside the offending carpet, and browses the shelves for ingredients. He knocks on a few of the jars with a frown.

“... These are all empty.” He finally evaluates. 

“Yeah, that tracks, I don’t actually own anything yet,” you nod. “Everything I’ve ever collected is probably still with the Traveler.”

“Presumably they’d be willing to part with some of their stash,” Wanderer adds sarcastically. “I don’t think they really need several thousand of each ingredient they own.” 

“I mean, you never know, right?” You chuckle nervously, thinking of all the bag space your farming must have taken up. How does the Traveler’s inventory work outside of a game-mechanic perspective? You suppose you’re going to find out soon enough. 

“If you’re going out to get stuff, I’m coming with you,” Scaramouche declares, crossing his arms as if daring you to refuse his company. “No way am I staying in here with these guys.” 

You shrug, and Wanderer doesn’t protest either. “Yeah, that’s fine with me. I’ll head out now so we have time to sort and put everything away before lunch.” 

“Bold of you to assume we’re going to get anything done before lunch,” Wanderer mutters, herding Kabukimono out of the ‘kitchen’, promising the other puppet to help him clean up the mess in his room. 

“Are you ready to head out?” You ask Scaramouche, ignoring the jibe. You hold out your hand, which the Balladeer reluctantly takes, and you will yourselves out of the teapot realm.

You materialize in one of the alcoves of the Sanctuary of Surasthana, briefly disoriented by the change in location until you see Nahida and Aranyani sitting on the central dais, seemingly having a quiet conversation. Nahida spots you first, waving cheerfully at you both.

“Your Grace! Balladeer! Apologies for relocating you, but we decided that the chamber of Irminsul should remain uninhabited for now,” she explains, hands clasped together. “After all, it’s too easy to stumble and damage one of the branches of information, and I would hate for any of you to blame yourselves if that kind of accident were to happen.” 

“That’s fair, thanks for doing that for us!” you smile at her thoughtfulness. Still holding Scaramouche’s hand, you lead the two of you down to the central part of the chamber. “Do you know where the Traveler is? We wanted to ask if they could spare some of the materials I had collected from before I came here.” 

“Yes, we saw the Traveler earlier, but they went to fetch some people that Nahida recommended,” Aranyani says, picking up Nahida under her arms and putting the small god in her lap. Nahida doesn’t react, still smiling as Aranyani begins to play with her hair.

“Recommended for what?” Scaramouche asks before you get the chance to. You elbow him subtly, a warning to watch his tone. 

“To help us figure out how and why you’ve descended to Teyvat, Your Grace!” Nahida claps her hands together. “It will be good to know in case you need to go back home, or if you wish to return here from your world!”

You nod, grateful at the prospect of having that option. “Who did you call in for this?”

Aranyani cheerfully answers this for you: “The General Mahamatra, and a scholar named Alhaitham!” 

You share a quick look with Scaramouche.

“The linguistics guy, and the cop…?” You ask, with a slight wince.

“I don’t think you’re figuring this one out anytime soon.”

[snnrinc]

Codename: ROOK

Now completed on AO3!

Ch. 1 /11- Outside Contractual Obligations [AO3 Portal]

— PAIRING : Dabi/Touya Todoroki x F!Reader x Hawks/Keigo Takami

— WARNINGS : NSFW (Not in this chapter), Noir AU, No Quirk AU, Porn With Plot, Sexual Tension, Threesome - F/M/M, Drugs Blood and Violence, Crime Scenes, Organized Crime, Murder, Eventual Smut, Cunnilingus, Double Penetration, Masturbation, Analingus, Mildly Dub-Con, Not Canon Compliant, AFAB reader, She/her pronouns for reader

— SUMMARY : Being a police officer in a city where crime runs high and respect is non existent has got to be one of the shittiest jobs you've ever had. But it pays the bills. However, once you and detective Keigo Takami are assigned a case that deals with the murder of a prolific law enforcer and the subsequent chain of disappearances happening all over Musutafu, you realise that having your bills up to date is most definitely not worth all the danger you're up against. Especially when that danger is named Dabi, one of the most sought after criminals that you've been trying to catch red handed for years. Nonetheless, this is your only opportunity to make your job finally mean something, so you and Keigo decide to go undercover right in the jaws of peril, its razor sharp teeth waiting to bite into your neck like a guillotine. But you won't back out now, will you, officer? Good luck on the job, codename Rook.

— NOTES : This was supposed to be a smutty one shot I have no idea what the fuck happened. It's been gathering dust in my Docs for over a year and yet this is the only chapter I have 💀 I left notes for myself saying "don't go overboard with the plot because the point is for them to FUCK" and now here we are. It definitely worked. For sure... Still hope you enjoy!

“A big-name agent of ours went missing a few months ago. No trace of his whereabouts until a couple weeks ago, when his body was found in the dumpster behind a hole-in-the-wall restaurant. Well, parts of it anyway.”

The man in front of you took a final puff from his dying cigarette and promptly extinguished it in the ashtray in front of him, right next to a bowl of sweets with generic labels. He exhaled the smoke in billows and it vanished in the air, lingering with a pungent smell of tobacco and an awful chocolate flavouring. Your nose scrunched up slightly and you resisted the urge to cough.

“We have no evidence left at the crime scene and the body being chopped up makes it near impossible to determine the murder weapon,” he continued. “We have some of our best agents dealing with the autopsy and the case as a whole, but no clear suspects so far.”

“This seems like highly classified information. So why are you telling me this?”

You closed the file you were handed and placed it back on the desk, eyes shifting to detective Enji Todoroki sitting across from you, watching the way his eyebrows dropped down just a little in an expression that seemed to almost be judging your intelligence.

Really, you felt like you should be the one judging here.

To say you were confused would be an understatement. When you were called into Enji's office, you had assumed you did something wrong on the job, since most people in your workplace seemed to overlook you even when it came to small tasks. Sometimes you felt that if you wouldn't turn up to work one day, no one would notice. Usually, you didn't mind — being invisible meant you could do your work in peace without being bothered by unnecessary small talk or the occasional office drama that you sometimes overheard in the break room. You were just an officer, one of the lowest ranks in the force, so the only time you expected any attention was when something went wrong.

When Enji personally came to look for you before you went on patrol for your shift you felt your stomach drop. Yes, the job sucked a good majority of the time, since you noticed you were often not taken seriously by your colleagues, sometimes probably even considered a liability when dealing with more violent cases. But like any other person roaming the earth, you still had rent to pay and food to buy if you wanted to continue existing, and working for the Public Safety Commission ensured you did just that and still had some money left for your more frivolous wants. Straightening your back, you followed Enji to his office, every bad scenario playing in your mind only getting worse when, as soon as you sat down, he dropped a file containing the case details on the desk in front of you, pushing it forward in a silent prompt for you to read it.

And now here you were, bombarded with information about a murder you were pretty sure you were not qualified to deal with, at least judging by your contractual obligations. You had half a mind to ask if you'd be getting paid more if you worked on the case, but you bit your tongue from the overwhelming feeling of uneasiness creeping up your spine.

“Of course, I don't expect you to understand things so quickly.” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his comment. “But surely you've gathered by now that you have been assigned as an assistant to this case.”

“That much is obvious,” you couldn't help but retort. “The question is still why?”

“I was meant to be assigned to this case, but the crime rate has spiked in recent months. I have bigger issues to deal with, so the Commission decided that we need someone that can slip under the radar.”

Ah, so they just needed some cannon fodder. Part of you thought you should've expected as much from the Commission.

“I still think I'm terribly underqualified to be working on this case.”

Enji leaned back into his chair, tapping one of his armrests with his index finger. “So do I, but you'll be working under detective Takami.” He heaved a sigh and allowed a sarcastic undertone to lace his voice, “Who should've been here to give you a quick overview of the case progression so far, but who are we to count on his punctuality?”

Wait a second, working under who?

You blinked and did a double take at him, replaying his words in your mind as if trying to dissect their meaning. This was fantastic in the worst possible way. Not only did you practically have a murder case of a prominent agent dropped into your inexperienced and unsuspecting arms, you were now the right hand of the second best detective of the Commission, Keigo Takami.

If only you had these kinds of odds bestowed upon you if you played the lottery, surely you'd have won enough to ditch this job.

You thought back to what Enji had just revealed to you and couldn't shake the feeling that there was a different reason why they would ask an officer to help with this case, other than just “slipping under the radar”. With one of the best detectives taking over, you figured the Commission wouldn't be stupid enough to allow someone like you to get in the way of the investigation.

As the questions multiplied in your mind, your tongue was tied, unable to figure out a way to put your doubts into words, especially since you knew Enji would do nothing to soothe them.

There was a knock on the door breaking your train of thought, before it opened to reveal detective Takami, an easygoing smile etched on his lips, his gloved hands buried inside the pockets of his shearling jacket, with only one coming up to push his aviator sunglasses that were resting on the bridge of his nose to the top of his head.

“Sorry I missed the introductions,” he said, “but I'm sure we weren't called here just to chat.”

“At last you grace us with your presence, detective. A little while longer and our officer here would've taken over the case in your stead.”

You whipped your head towards Enji, almost ready to ask him if he was serious, before you looked back at Keigo to see him meet your gaze.

“I'm Keigo Takami, it's a pleasure to meet you.” He gave you a charming smile and extended his hand for you to shake. You grasped it firmly and introduced yourself. “So, were you one of the first responders at the scene?”

“Actually,” Enji interjected, “the officer is unfamiliar with the case at the moment, save for the basic details.”

“Oh?” Keigo frowned in confusion.

“As of today, this is your new assistant in this case.”

Keigo blinked a few times, then shook his head and huffed a laugh. “I'm sorry. What? An officer? Not that I mean to doubt your judgement or anything, but isn't this case a little too sensitive for an officer to deal with?” He turned towards you. “No offence.”

“None taken, I'm a little confused myself.”

Enji sighed and massaged his temple with one hand before he leaned forward. “You see, your role in this case will be a little more... 'hands-on' than usual. I mentioned we don't have any concrete suspects, but we do have an idea of the organisation that might be responsible for the murder, which is why we need to employ your help for the investigation.”

“I don't see how this is anything new,” Keigo said. “We've been investigating the League for a while, they operate in this area. Tying them to this murder would be the most obvious first step.”

“The League?” you interfered.

Enji raised an eyebrow at you. “Are you familiar with them?”

“Uh, yeah.” Your eyes shifted between the two men watching you. “They've made a name for themselves amongst the police officers. We've been trying to catch a few of them in the act but they always slip away.”

“Unsurprising for the police force,“ Enji scoffed and you frowned. “Let's hope we won't have the same disappointing results in this case. We have no time to waste on pathetic failures.”

Keigo looked at you from the corner of his eye and noticed the way your shoulders tensed up. He leaned over and dug his hand into the bowl of sweets on the desk, effectively catching both of your attentions. With a fistful of candy, he resumed his questions for Enji who was dishing out your responsibilities.

“So is this about the NOMU Program?”

Enji's eyes narrowed. “How do you know about that program? It's classified information, even for you.”

Keigo shrugged and shoved some more candy into his mouth. “If it is about that, I'd argue that's even more reason why we shouldn't drag an officer into this.”

“Sorry,” you interjected. “What is the NOMU Program?”

“Don't concern yourself with things outside of your duties,” Enji snapped.

“Come now, let's be courteous with our colleague,” Keigo said with a light-hearted tone before turning to you. “It's a codename used by the League. We figured it stands for Network of Metahumanoid Units. A fancy name that's probably got to do with their attempts at reanimating corpses.”

Fuck, so now you were dealing with zombies? Sure, technology as a whole was impressive, but it was nowhere near sophisticated enough to bring someone back from the dead. As far as you knew, every attempt to reverse death was futile. So then why would someone bother?

Enji noticed the confusion in your eyes and spoke before you could ask any questions. "They're planning to use them as weapons. Keigo called them corpses because essentially that's what they are: on the brink of brain death.”

“The only reason why they don't collapse is because the League is pumping them full of a drug called Trigger that boosts their baser powers,” Keigo continued, earning an annoyed glare from Enji at how readily he presented the classified information to you. “We've only had a few attacks reported so far, and we weren't sure what exactly we were dealing with, so we had our top agents deployed to deal with them. Which is why the police weren't mobilised.”

“Sounds like a pretty important omission to me,” you countered with a frown. “So is this what we're dealing with here? Drugged up zombies?”

“We're still unsure,” Keigo answered. “If this victim was supposed to be part of the NOMU Program, then we wouldn't have a body cut up into pieces on our hands. Maybe they're trying to send a message.”

“That's where you two come in," Enji announced. "This time, you will not be dealing with any forensic analysis, suspect interrogation or evidence collection. Instead, you two will act as our eyes and ears and infiltrate the League.”

An insurmountable amount of pressure crashed over you and clenched your muscles in a vice grip, to the point where you almost felt as if it would crack your bones at any moment. You tried to control your expression in an attempt to stop your shock from washing over your face, but surely the vein that started throbbing painfully in your temple was enough proof.

“Hold on.” You raised your hand again to signal for Enji to slow down. “You mean to tell me you called me here to act as your spy?”

Enji scowled. “I don't like it either. They shouldn't send a rookie in for such a big case. I should've been the lead, but it wasn't my decision to make, so I suggest you suck it up and do your job.”

Your voice was exasperated, “There are so many ways that this could go wrong if you send me out there! I'd just hold detective Takami back!”

“I have to agree,” Keigo said. “It's best if I work on my own as usual.”

“Well you see, Takami, things are not so easy in this line of work,” Enji snarled, then produced two folders from his briefcase and stood up, handing them to you and Keigo. “Commission's orders and instructions. Read them thoroughly. Good luck with the mission detective, officer.”

And with that, he stepped out of the room and you felt as if all oxygen made an exit along with him, your heart pounding in your chest so hard you could almost hear it through the grave silence that fell over the room as you read the instructions:

“Officer,

As of today you will refer to yourself as Rook and to your mission partner as Hawks. Forget your real name. Return your weapons, badge, uniform and any other equipment that may be in your possession at the reception of the PCS HQ.

While infiltrated do not contact anyone outside including family members, friends, acquaintances and other PSC employees except for your partner.

You will not have any accolades attached to your name. Your achievements will not be disclosed by the PSC if you succeed. You will receive no posthumous awards if you die. This is your duty to fight for the people. Failure to comply could result in dismissal, sanctions and/or prosecution.

Destroy this document after reading.”

This job was so not worth it.

You watched the grainy screen of the tube TV perched in a corner of the office intently, listening to the news broadcasted somberly by the anchor along with your colleagues. Keigo was by your side, expertly twirling a pen in his fingers, but his focus was zeroed in on the screen, his nose and mouth buried in the raised collar of his jacket.

After the discovery of the body of the Commission's agent, the disappearances around Musutafu increased by a concerning margin. What was worse was that not all of them were agents, some were simply civilians that seemingly had powerful or useful builts and abilities, like the person whose face was now on the screen, their name, last known location and clothes they were last seen wearing listed underneath the picture.

You crossed your arms over your chest and frowned. If this was what you were dealing with, even with your training and experience you were unsure how you'd survive as a double agent. You had no special skill, no upper-hand tactic and you couldn't rely on Keigo—Hawks—for fear that you'd hold him back and compromise the mission.

With how they had you bring back anything that would suggest you'd ever had any contact with the Commission, it really seemed as if they were trying to erase any trace of your existence. This job was all you had, all you ever worked for since you were just a bright-eyed trainee at the police academy, ready to take on any danger coming your way if it meant you could save someone else from it.

How naïve.

Maybe you should've just given up when you were still a child, still able to choose a path that would fit you and your capabilities more. The society in which you lived was unforgiving to weak people, so you had to adapt. But women were not always respected in the police force, and those who were got there because of their network rather than their own abilities more often than not. Not to mention that a police officer's chances of advancing without having someone behind them were close to none.

In other words, there was no way out for you. But at least you weren't exactly the perfect catch for whatever the League was planning, by the looks of things.

From the fog of your worries, you felt Hawks tap your shoulder to catch your attention. His collar was now pushed down neatly and you could see the serious way in which his lips were pursed. He gestured with his head for you to follow him and you complied with a nod.

You reached his office, after stopping by your desk to collect the last bits and pieces you had left laying around, and sat down in front of his desk, one hand worriedly rubbing your chin as you looked out the window. His eyes never left you as he sat down and leaned back in his chair, the pen he was playing with earlier still in his hands. He watched carefully as your brows turned downward in a frown that casted a shadow of concern over your eyes, before he put the pen down on the desk, the sound making you turn to look at him.

“I know you're worried,” he started, “but I want you to know I won't let anything happen to you.”

You let your hands fall into your lap. “Please, don't worry about me. I don't want to be a drawback in this mission.”

“You won't be,” he said, but noticed you were unconvinced when the corner of your lip lifted in what was supposed to be a polite smile, but didn't quite reach your eyes. “You graduated as the top eighth trainee in the police academy, surpassing like, what, 22 of your classmates? That's pretty impressive.” You stared at him in a mix of confusion and surprise and he shrugged nonchalantly. “I've read your file. You've got a lot of potential, officer.”

You smiled and nodded as thanks. In the past, this kind of compliment would've left you feeling all warm and fuzzy on the inside, feeding into your pride and fuelling your determination to get even better. But now, the comment felt like tossing a coin down an endless pit, nowhere near enough to fill the hollow space in your chest and, despite its value, ultimately useless. When did your outlook on your job get so sour?

Maybe it was when you were put up for disciplinary action after attempting to stop one of your fellow officers from brutalising a murder suspect. Or maybe when you had one case shut down because the culprit was the daughter of an acclaimed attorney that somehow found the perfect team of lawyers to render the evidence null. Or maybe it was simply after you had graduated from the academy and were thrown out into the real world. Any way, perhaps this was the universe's way of making up for all the times it fucked up. By giving you a new opportunity.

You picked up the pen from Hawks's desk and fiddled with it. “Officer, huh? I thought my new name was Rook.”

Hawks chuckled. “They're really terrible at picking codenames, huh? Sounds like we're just two bird enthusiasts with no imagination.”

You chuckled at his comment and after a moment you bent down to rummage through the box in which you had collected your remaining possessions from your desk, pulling out a document. You opened it, quickly finding the file in which you and Hawks took notes about your action plan.

“So,” you started, scrolling through the notes, “you were saying you already have a way to get inside the League?”

Hawks leaned forward on his elbows to get a better look at the notes. “Well, yes and no. Enji didn't tell you this, but remember how I said we've been investigating the League for a while? Well, I've been in contact with one of the members. I managed to get close enough for him to think I'll soon defect and join them.”

“So you've been planning to go undercover for a while now?”

“It's the only way I could squeeze any information out of them. They seem pretty loyal to their cause, so getting one of them to become an informant for the PSC was highly unlikely.”

You nodded in thought. “So who's your contact?”

“A guy named Dabi.”

Your blood ran cold and your eyes shot up to Hawks. You knew that name too well. Not only was he notoriously known among the law enforcement as one of the most dangerous members of the League, but he was the person responsible for numerous counts of arson in your area, courtesy of his pyromaniacal tendencies. You'd been trying to find a way to get closer to catching him for years. Each time, he slipped out of your hands, your attempts always too late or too little.

You knew what Dabi was capable of, and without the comfort of a self defence weapon and protective equipment by your side, you feared you'd be turned to ash before you even tried to get any information out of the League.

You stared through Hawks for a few seconds. His eyes searched your expression as he frowned in confusion at your sudden change. You noticed that and blinked a few times, clearing your throat.

“So this contact is our ticket inside, but how do I get him to trust me? I think I'd be found out before I even get to talk to him.”

“No need to worry, I'll send him your way somehow. You then offer to be their informant. We'll have to act separately to avoid raising suspicion, so if we cross paths, try acting like you don't know me personally.”

You nodded in acknowledgement then remained quiet for a second before frowning in thought.

“I don't understand. If you already have an in, then why would the Commission send me to help?”

Hawks sighed. “You heard what the Commission said, you'll be the bait.” He leaned back in his chair. “The League is reluctant to let me join because I'm a well-known detective. They know who I am and what I do, but they don't know you. If you manage to convince them you're also just a crooked law enforcer, that would be the last step we need to finally get inside.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

Hawks regarded you thoughtfully, tilting his head and looking you up and down. His scrutinising eyes seemed to glow as the final rays of dusk poured through the blinds of his office window. Before he even spoke, you knew that his idea would not be to your liking.

“Say, how comfortable are you with flirting?”

[moraygrotto]

sequel to this!!!

explicitly ÑŚFŴ; vil jacks it to neige burping uwu

~💜~

Once the film comes out, Vil will not be able to bear it. Neige swallows someone—swallows Vil—in this film, in some travesty of cannibalism just shy of grotesque. And then, to regurgitate Vil, Neige—

Neige—

Vil can barely think it.

Vil is alone, feeding a DVD into his laptop, applying a clinically measured pressure to its shiny curve until it disappears into the slot. This is a different film. This one is innocent.

This older film, Vil tells himself, has always been innocent, even as the scene selection menu hits his eyes and ears, more familiar than the feeling of unzipping trousers.

His hands find the scene automatically. He knows how many increments he may skip ahead, not to get too close; the lead-up is vital, like fertilizer upon the soil of—

A young Neige adorns the screen, even younger than twenty—Vil was younger when he first saw this clip, when it first lodged itself into his mind, playing nonstop behind his eyelids long after the screen went dark. He is old enough now to name the way it made him feel, still makes him feel.

Neige engages in a saccharine, snappy exchange with another character in the fantasy, a potion maker.

They're discussing potions.

With fluid grace, then, like it's nothing, like what's about to happen is nothing, the potion maker yanks Neige's jaw open, tips a phial over his mouth, and lets fall two glittering drops.

Neige gives a comically large gulp. It's good genre acting; Vil recognizes that Neige is objectively his superior in comedic skill.

The next few seconds of the clip flow like electricity through water; Neige's eyes bulge, his lips part, and he belches, a petite puff of glittering smoke bursting from his mouth.

It's terrible CGI. Vil could recognize this much as an adolescent, was perplexed that despite the poor quality, this scene had always fascinated him, allured him, caught his heart as if it were a masterpiece of cinema.

Vil's breaths come shuddering. Now, he is old enough to understand.

Vil's fingers skip back the familiar number of seconds. Vil's fingers unzip his trousers.

He's half hard already, and Neige's lips look so plush between the potion maker's fingers, squeezed plump and open, only to be force-fed the seed of that—

Belch.

A satisfying prickle rushes through Vil's body; it's the first time he's touched himself to this tape, to any tape of a belch, but he values his sexual health too much to hold back now, doesn't want to forbid himself any fleeting rush of arousal.

It is not an easy effort. Shame clouds his mind the way it always has when he finds himself stuck to this clip, desperate for just one more replay, over and over.

But he is adept at touching himself. He has even touched himself to the thought of Neige before, has deliberately worked himself up over those very lips. He hates how much better this feels.

Burp. Burp. Belch.

It's such a good-sounding burp. Neige's round eyes pair well with it.

Burp. Burp. Over and over he plays it.

How would it feel to belch up a picturesque little cloud of glitter? How would he feel, if Neige expelled that into his face?

It feels too good. This all feels too damn good. His body begins to tremble as he approaches climax, so quickly, so overwhelmingly good.

He is about to cum to a video of Neige LeBlanche belching. It's vile, but he cannot, will not stop.

Neige cannot burp like that in real life. The sound effect was dubbed in. During the conversation, before the belch has even happened this repeat, Vil comes, spurting up weakly into his palm.

His insides churn.

Neige cannot burp well in real life, and Vil is infuriated; some childish part of him blames Neige for taking away any satisfying ending Vil might have had, blames Neige for ever having burped in his life.

The belch happens, and the dialogue continues on, like nothing momentous had happened at all, and Vil flops down atop his bed, hormones seething through his body.

Vil hates himself most of all, he is sure of it. Sweat adheres the sheets to the back of his neck.

A few moments' measured breathing later, he feels less sick. He'll have to cum again; Vil Schoenheit will not leave himself half-spent, half-full like this.

He thinks of Neige.

He thinks of beautiful models burping.

He is soft as silk, still sensitive from his last orgasm, but not needy of himself, no part of him yearns to be stroked... yet.

Vil has never done what he is about to do.

Opening a private browser tab is something he has done countless times before, and he is surprised to find that, fingers to keys, typing the words into the search bar is no more difficult.

The first rush of offense only hits him when he gets exactly what he searched for.

Neige LeBlanche Burp Compilation. It's so simple, so horrid.

Vil adjusts his headphones. They are warm from the body heat of his ears. He opens the link.

Blessedly, all the video therein appears to be taken after Neige is legally an adult. The fact both reassures and sickens him. Almost everyone who opened this video did so for the same reason.

The burps are all terrible. They're all utter trash, little stifled sounds amidst interview answers, half-audible gurgles at the back of Neige's throat, and Vil is watching them, terrifically frustrated; just like with his movie clip, he is unable to stop; the almost rhythmic flow of pitiful belch after pitiful belch sinks Vil into a state near hypnosis.

Some of Neige's belches are better than others. Vil likes when his chest or tummy does a little hiccuping motion alongside the sound. Once, Neige's lips squirm in a way that goes straight to Vil's hips.

The compilation ends too quickly. Vil actually growls, and hits replay.

Rrrp. Mggph. Mmm. Ggnp.

Vil is hard again. One of the better burps catches Vil by surprise; he had appreciated it the first watchthrough, but it sounds even better the second time; it's so clear next to its brethren, rumbling through Neige's soft body with despicable, sonorous grace. Arousal prickles through Vil as he mentally picks out the belches he likes the most, still yearning fiercely for a fantastical version of this video where each is both big and true. Neige's lips squirm again.

Thousands of individual people have liked this video. Thousands of people have done what Vil is doing now. The idea that Vil has higher standards than them is a comfort; he knows if he came to these pathetic sounds, he would still be unsatisfied, be disgusted with both Neige and himself.

He replays the video.

Only... Vil has something these people do not. A few weeks ago, Neige belched a real, strong belch right into Vil's face.

It had sounded so fucking beautiful.

Perhaps Vil is jealous. He can barely think. All Neige's little sounds from this video form a backdrop to Vil's memory, and Vil feels perfect.

Neige's eyelashes blink as he burps. Neige presses a pale hand to his mouth as he burps. Neige had expelled a soda-scented monstrosity of a belch right at Vil, and Neige's lips press together when he burps.

Vil's dick is getting sore, he's moving so hard. He feels like an animal, bent only on self-satisfaction. If Neige were to ask to marry him, in this moment he would say yes.

Neige's lips squirm when he burps. Vil comes.

Every drop of satisfaction Vil can milk from himself, he takes, as is his habit. It's difficult, letting himself feel good when it is Neige LeBlanche belching that drove him to the brink, but Vil is nothing if not determined.

After the last drops leave him, his brain conjures up an image of curling naked around Neige's warm, soft-skinned body, and this makes Vil recoil in disgust.

Finally finished, he assesses the session while he wipes the heavy palmful of cum out of his hand. He feels marvelously good, right now. It's got to be healthy, circulating one's bodily fluids so thoroughly like this. He ought to replicate this experience next time. He ought to encourage Neige to burp more.

The same thought had struck him that evening, the evening he approached Vil's trailer with a belly full of cola.

Neige had drunk so, so much cola.

It would be bordering on inhumane to manufacture a scenario where he would need to drink that much again, to drink more than that, to bloat himself even fuller with gas. Vil would not let himself be inhumane.

The video had ended long ago. He looks back at the screen. If he told Neige he wanted to hear... wanted...

Neige would surely oblige. Vil's cock twitches weakly. Vil would never make such a request, least of all of Neige. He copies the link to the video, opens his secure messaging app, and sends it to himself.

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

Once upon a time in a tavern

@sofasoap @eenochian and @nrdmssgs are bleeding this out of me, so blame them (thank you)

Fantasy AU masterlist / First

In any other town, a tiefling, an elf and a goat sitting at an inn together maybe would have raised some eyebrows.

But in Tharbad, the population was so diverse that one could cross paths with a halfling, a genasi, or a lizardfolk, and not bat an eye.

Once, that very inn had been the foundation of a tiny village on the coast, at a crossroad of the three main roads in the continent that grew until it became a bustling commerce stronghold and one of the most important ports.

The local temples thrived with the crowds of travelers that spent the night while on route to some other place and donated great sums for their safe travels. Local commerce and artisan workshops thrived as well, because there was always someone needing something repaired or made from scratch.

Ruled by a council of nobles and rich merchants, the city was staunchly independent, denying loyalty to any of the Kingdoms around. Said Kingdoms didn’t want any of their rivals to own such a rich city, and thus, Tharbad lived comfortably in a precarious balance.

Loved by everyone, desired by all.

‘‘What do you have to do in this place to get served?’’ Calliara grumbled, leaning back in her chair, with Sebastian on her lap. She was still eyeing up and down the furry creature suspiciously as the kid slept peacefully. That very morning when they woke up in the hay cart, the kid that had been brown the previous day, now had big white splotches on its fur.

And to top it off, when she asked Ol’kha about it, the tiefling had shrugged and said she didn’t see any difference.

‘‘Just being patient’’ Ol’kha smiled, filling her smoking pipe parsimoniusly. ‘‘It’s slow at this hour, and surely the kitchen is busy’’

As if summoned, a bubbly redhead half-elf appeared from the kitchen with a full tray, gliding with grace among the tables, placing meals or drinks and avoiding the grabby hands of some of the patrons. A tall, burly man that seemed to have some orc blood in him stood guard next to the bar counter, eyeing everything, and promptly marched over there to knock some sense into some heads.

‘‘I’m so sorry, serah. Your order will be out shortly, messeres’’ The tavern maid apologized to the tables that were still waiting, and stopped right in front of the tiefling and the elf. ‘‘My ladies, I apologize for the delay, the cook had some problems in the kitchen and needed my help’’

‘‘It’s fine, no need to apologize for being busy’’ Ol’kha waved a hand to disperse the smoke from her pipe. ‘‘When you have time, I’ll have mead, thank you’’

‘‘Same’’ Calliara muttered, looking around while rubbing a finger absently between Sebastian’s little horns. The furry creature’s fluffy tail wiggled happily. ‘‘And something to eat’’

‘‘We have a delicious fowl stew that is almost done, cheese and bread today’’ The bubbly maid smiled widely, ignoring two men that were seated at a nearby table with empty plates and that were whistling at her. ‘‘I’ll bring your drinks shortly, and then your food. Will your little friend want anything?’’

Calliara looked at Ol’kha, raising an eyebrow, and the tiefling shrugged.

‘‘Just water’’

‘‘Right away! If you need to call me, my name is Florrie!’’ The maid practically pranced back to the kitchen.

Calliara leaned back in her chair again, studying the room methodically. Exits, where the stairs were, the windows, what tables were occupied and what tables were free. There was an empty table, big enough for several people, right next to the small stage where a willowy human with chesnut hair was quietly tuning her lute.

‘‘Cozy’’

Ol’kha snorted when she heard the pleased grunt coming from her new friend, and took another puff of her pipe, chuckling.

‘‘Not used to taverns?’’

Two tankards, full to the brim with delicious looking mead were placed on the table along with a bowl with water, and the busy maid disappeared once again.

‘‘Not used to not being gawked at’’ Calliara shrugged, with a sheepish smile, seemingly relaxed with the small kid curled on her lap. She grabbed one of the tankards and brought it to her lips, to taste the golden liquid.

‘‘Gawked at why? It’s not like there aren’t more elves around’’ The tiefling tilted her head in the direction of a noble elven woman, elegant and ethereal, sitting at a table close to the stage and that was now conversing with the minstrel. Next to her, a really tall elven man was trying very hard to look busy with a book, but the red ears betrayed him each time he tried not to look at the pretty human. ‘‘See? There are two there, the lady that owns the alchemy shop and…’’

Her trained eyes noticed something before her rational mind did, and she looked back at Calliara, only to find an understanding smile.

‘‘You noticed’’

Ol’kha frowned, looking at the elven folk again, and back to the one sitting next to her.

‘‘Your ears aren’t as long’’

‘‘But they look the part don’t they’’ Calliara sighed, still smiling. ‘‘Well, I promised I’d tell you at a decent inn. Guess this is as decent as we’ll get’’

The tiefling leaned forward until she rested her elbows on the table, and her chin on her hands, with the pipe in her mouth. The elf, or not so elf, rolled her eyes.

‘‘Well, you know, when a father and a mother love each other very much…’’

‘‘Calliara!’’ Ol’kha nudged her companion’s side repeteadly with the tip of her tail, and Calliara tried to push it away without moving the sleeping goat on her lap.

‘‘Ugh, alright, alright…’’ Sighing again, she left the tankard on the table. ‘‘I’m… mostly elf’’

‘‘What do you mean, mostly’’

‘‘I was raised by humans, up in the North, among the tribes, but my mother was… is a half elf. My grandmother was an elven healer that decided to settle with the tribes, and married my grandfather… Oh, you woke up, little rascal’’

Calliara lifted Sebastian from her lap and set him on the table so he could drink from the water bowl, trying to avoid the wiggling tail on her face. Ol’kha moved dutifully both of their tankards so the kid wouldn’t kick them off the table in his excitement.

‘‘Ok but that would make you a quarter elf… unless your father wasn’t from the tribes?’’

‘‘My father was another traveling elven healer that decided to stay for a couple of seasons. Seems some of them are really fond of saving the savages’’ The elf snorted, dragging her chair on the floor so she could escape the wiggling tail. ‘‘At the end of the first summer since he arrived, poof, there I was. So that makes me, hum… mostly elf. Three parts elf and one part human’’

‘‘And were you born an elf or a little cub?’’ Ol’kha chuckled, making her friend roll her eyes with a smile while they tasted their mead.

‘‘I didn’t change into a wolf until I was almost five, after I got so angry I couldn’t see straight. But don’t ask me why, I don’t remember’’ Calliara shrugged. ‘‘By then my parents had decided to leave the tribes as errand healers, following armies to battle or going to lands ravaged by disease and famine’’

‘‘And they left you with your grandparents?’’ The tiefling raised her eyebrows when her friend nodded, and huffed a muffled laugh. ‘‘A mostly elf living among humans… and your elven grandmother, I hope’’

‘‘She passed shortly after my mother left. I guess from a broken heart’’ Calliara left the empty tankard on the table, and passed Sebastian’s water bowl to Ol’kha when Florrie appeared with their meal. Two fragrant, steaming bowls with a delicious looking fowl stew, that smelled heavenly, especially after being on the road for so long.

‘‘I guess it wasn’t easy’’ The tiefling mentioned, tasting the stew and keeping Sebastian on her lap so he wouldn’t get his hooves inside the bowl.

‘‘I was born there, but I was an outsider. And the second my grandfather died, I was very kindly made aware that I was unwelcome to keep living among them’’

‘‘Bastards’’

‘‘I don’t blame them. I’m not human. I’m not elf. I didn’t owe the tribes any allegiance once my bloodkin had passed away. I can change at will into a wild animal, that I keep under control most of the time. I’m a wild card’’ Calliara shrugged, taking a moment to chew what she had in her mouth. Still gliding among the tables, serving drinks or collecting empty dishes, Florrie appeared from behind the counter to refill their tankards with more mead, before disappearing again with a bubbly laugh.

‘‘Ok, so the wolf thing…’’ Ol’kha made a vague gesture with her hand, pointing at her. ‘‘You said you started being able to change at five’’

‘‘Correct’’

‘‘So… is it a spell? … A curse?’’

‘‘No idea. It’s useful to travel big distances, and my senses are very sharp even when I’m not in wolf form. But if I change too fast, too many times, or for a long time, it gets harder and harder to change back’’ Calliara shrugged, focused on her food, which was almost finished by then while Ol’kha still had half of it. ‘‘My grandfather said my father could do it too, but I don’t remember it’’

‘‘So… what are you?’’ The tiefling smiled, scratching Sebastian’s belly to keep him happy, while the furry creature drooled on her shoulder, asleep again.

Calliara let out a genuine laugh, shaking her head.

‘‘Complicated’’

‘‘You don’t say’’ Ol’kha laughed as well. ‘‘I guess you told me yours, I’ll have to tell you mine’’

‘‘That’s be nice…’’ Calliara stopped talking seconds before the main door opened, looking in that direction. If it wasn’t impossible, Ol’kha would have sworn that her friend’s pointy ears had perked up. ‘‘Ol’kha, that is a…’’

‘‘That is a what?’’ The tiefling turned her head to look at the door too, and smiled. ‘‘Oh, yes. That’s a dragon’’

Calliara stared with wide eyes at the imposing frame of what seemed like a big, muscled man, with short unruly brown hair and muttonchops, enter the tavern as if it was his home. Once he trespassed the treshold, big, green, dragonlike wings stretched wide for a moment before folding again at his back, while a long, muscular tail with green scales moved sinously. He waved a big hand, more like a paw with his sharp, dark claws, at the barmaid and the man guarding the bar counter, before heading for the big empty table next to the stage,

Next to him, a young looking half elf, with beautiful dark skin and dark eyes that glimmered with intelligence and wisdom in spite of his young appearance. Those eyes lit up when looking in their direction, and he raised a hand, gesture that Ol’kha reciprocated with a smile. He was chatting with a human just as tall as him but slightly bulkier, with a long braided mohawk and mischievous blue eyes, and infectious smile. His features looked similar to those of the minstrel.

‘‘Ol’kha, that’s a dragon’’ Calliara’s voice was low, almost reverent. The wolf inside her was shaking, howling at her to flee.

‘‘Oh, yes, isn’t he majestic? That’s… Price, or that’s the name he uses. Nobody knows his real name, of course.’’ The tiefling smiled, admiring the dragon’s wings, whose scales glittered lightly with the light of the candles. ‘‘And the half elf with him is my friend Gaz’’

Calliara nodded slowly. It was well known that one’s birthname was the key to the ownership or your soul and will, especially in the case of sentient mytical beasts with the ability to speak like dragons or sphynxes, in the case of demons or in the case of magical users like wizards and sorcerers.

‘‘I don’t know who’s the human but I think that’s Freya’s brother…’’ Ol’kha continued explaining, and laughed when Calliara looked back at her quizzically. ‘‘The minstrel. Her name is Freya, she’s quite notorious here in Tharbad and along the coast.’’

The mostly-elf-but-not was about to say something else when the main door opened again, to reveal another man, who was so tall that he had to duck to cross the treshold. He seemed to be just a tad taller than Price was, but just as broad or more, or maybe it was just the impression his dark clothes gave. His face was covered with a skull mask, and his heavy steps echoed in the suddenly silent room while he headed for the same table as Price and the other two.

‘‘And that’s… I don’t know who that is’’

‘‘People call him Ghost’’ Florrie appeared from nowhere again, holding a tray full of empty tankars and bowls, still with her wide smile. ‘‘Nobody knows who he is or where he comes from. It is said that Price made a deal with a demon to keep him as his bodyguard’’

‘‘Why would a dragon need a bodyguard?’’ Calliara looked up at the maid, who shrugged without losing her smile.

‘‘I’ve heard tons of stories. That he is a construct. That he is a demon, shackled to Price’s will. That he is a deserter from another Kingdom’’ Sighing, Florrie shrugged once again. ‘‘All I know is that Price appeared with him on his back four years ago, and nursed him back from the death. Since then, he is his shadow’’

Calliara and Ol’kha looked at each other while the maid left for the kitchen, and then looked back again at the group while they shook hands with each other, sitting down. The dragon in human form roared with laughter at something that the human with the mohawk said, while Ol’kha’s friend seemed trying not to laugh as well.

Ghost sat down with his back to the wall, able to look at everything and control where everyone was, and calmly took his skull mask off to place it on the table. Dark brown eyes swept all over the room, until they stopped at the table where a pretty tiefling with dark hair and elegant horns was sitting next to an elf with hair so fair that it looked almost white under the light of the candles.

‘‘Oh’’ Calliara muttered, and Ol’kha looked at her.

‘‘What?’’

The elf seemingly didn’t hear her, while she stared right back at Price’s shadow. Ghost’s scarred face seemeed to soften for a second, or maybe it was just an illusion thanks to the candles, and he looked away. Calliara averted her gaze too, and grabbed her tankard to pretend she wasn’t flustered.

‘‘Are you… blushing?’’

‘‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’’

Ol’kha laughed incredulously, and was about to tease her friend further when the main door opened for the third time.

This time, two men crossed the treshold, talking among themselves while they walked towards the big table by the stage too.

A tall, muscular man with a skintone that suggested there was drow blood in him. In what amounth, it wasn’t clear.

And a big, enormous, burly half orc with a wide smile that showed his lower tusks, golden chains dangling from his neck and over his open shirt, and that greeted Price with a thunderous laugh and a slap on the back that would have thrown to the floor a weaker man.

The men at the table shuffled their chairs to make space for the newcomers, except Ghost, who didn’t move an inch from where he was, listening to something that Gaz was telling him.

The half orc looked around the room as he sat down beside Price, without losing the dashing smile, and that smile widened when his dark eyes fell on the tiefling.

Ol’kha sank in her chair, and Calliara looked at her, surprised.

‘‘Crap’’

[justfrozenthings]

Pairing: Anna/Kristoff Rating: G Summary: Kristoff didn't know what he expected in college, but it certainly didn't include falling for a beautiful redhead in his biology class. Now, working with her on a group project there may be a chance for their relationship to grow past friendship. There's just one problem…Hans Westergaard.

Notes: I finally updated this and changed the fic title because eventually, I saw it did not make sense lol.

“Hey man,” Sven greeted from the couch of the nearly wall-to-wall living room. Kristoff had been surprised to discover that he had been placed in one of the university’s apartment-style dormitories; albeit a bit small and out of date it was nowhere near as run down as his standard college dorm from last year. “How were classes?” Sven lit a cigarette and pointed the packet towards Kristoff, offering him one. “Want one one?” He asked before taking a puff.

“You know you’re not supposed to be smoking those in here. You’re going to get in trouble.” Kristoff leaned his bag against the kitchen counter.

Sven gave a flick of his hand, “Eh. They haven’t caught me yet. By the way, there’s beer in the fridge, if you want any you’re welcome to it. Though it seems you already made a stop on your way here.” He smirked knowingly, pointedly looking at the coffee cup Kristoff still held in his hand. “I wonder who that could have been?”

Sven was well aware of Kristoff’s feelings for Anna, picking up on them rather quickly, though it didn’t take a genius to see it.

“Shut up Sven,” Kristoff grumbled, moving to grab something from his bag. “We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, friends don’t draw hearts next to your name.”

Kristoff looked down at his name that had been scrawled rather fancifully - as if a lot of thought and love went into making it perfect - across the cup with a small heart next to it. He never gave it much thought before, I mean it’s not like anyone could blame him really; before Anna he never had friends, just kept to himself and went about his day annoyed with everyone who wasn’t his family. So, if he didn’t have the desperation to make friends, why would he even bother to learn anything about romantic relationships or flirting?

Being new to this whole thing, he just assumed it was Anna being her friendly bubbly self, the way she had always been.

“I’m telling you, man. The girl is into you. And I know you’re into her, so why not just go ahead and ask her out? You deserve to be happy dude,” Sven enlightened, taking a swig of his beer, his now half-lighted cigarette resting between his index and middle finger.

A grin broke out across Kristoff’s face. “Thanks, man. Seriously though, it’s amazing you haven’t set the fire alarm off yet smoking one of those,” he noted, grabbing a cold one from the fridge and making his way over to the couch to join Sven.

Sven’s smile disappeared and for a second Kristoff worried that he might’ve upset him until his eyes gave him a sincere look and he spoke up again.

“Soooo,” he drawled in a somewhat drunken manner. “Speaking of Anna, don’t you start that one history project with her tomorrow. Seems like an awfully convenient time to ask her out?”

Kristoff joined him on the couch, grunting a little at the less-than-comfortable impact of the worn cushion as springs screeched a sound that only comes with age. “First of all, it’s Biology. If you’d actually listen to anything I ever had to say you would know that. And second, we’re working with Hans, who being the asshat he is, who will try and make this project miserable for me and I don't want my attitude from that to be taken out on Anna. She doesn’t deserve that.”

“Well…” Sven sighed, getting up from the couch and patting Kristoff’s knee. “You do what you believe is best, but the clock is ticking, and someone who is as wonderful as you make Anna out to be isn’t going to stay single forever.” He padded over to the hallway before continuing his word of advice. “All I am saying is that you might want to jump on the train before it pulls out of the station.” Then he stretched and disappeared into the hallway before Kristoff heard the click of his bedroom door closing.

Sven was right. A girl like Anna was bound to catch someone’s eye at some point. Hell, it only took a matter of weeks before she had him tied around her little finger.

He had to do something. And soon.

[bigball-thefrog]

The Mighty Sand Dragon And The Maiden: Crocodile X Reader pt2

______________________________

Pt1

Just a short one for this week I'll post a longer one next week and the third part of this will be longer.

Warnings and Tags:

None

______________________________

Reader POV

It had been six months since I last spoke to the dragon and I finally think I'm ready to defeat him. Once again I made my journey through the desert fighting more monsters and more puzzles which seemed easier this time thanks to my training.

I eventually get the cave and set down my things and called out to the dragon and waited with a smug look. There was silence until the dragon let out a deep growl that caused the ground to shake, soon the large purple dragon emerged from his cave bringing more sand, "Who dares awaken the might Sand Drago-... Oh it's you again. The little maiden that wishes to change her fate and defeat me?~ I thought after the last fight you would have run home crying and given into your fate~" The dragon said tauntingly as he let out his deep laugh. "No, I would never accept that fate! I make my own decisions and iecide my own destiny!" The dragon chuckled again, "Well then fair maiden don't expect me to be easy on you this time.~" The dragon was surrounded by sand again, signaling he was transforming into his human form. When the sand disappeared and he, now in his human form walked towards me with a large grin on his face, "Well then maiden, show me what you've got~" he said tauntingly

I sighed as I raised my sword, ready to attack I ran at him and he raised his hand to keep me away again, this time I ducked and slashed my sword, cutting off his hand. I finally got close to him and smirked, finally one swift move and my fate will change and I'll no longer be the helpless maiden everyone says I'll be. I raised my sword and stabbed it right through his stomach, "Looks like the might Sand Dragon isn't so mighty now-... HUH!!??" I looked where I stabbed and there was no blood just.... Sand? He laughed at me as he grabbed the sword and pulled it out, still no blood and just sand. The wound quickly closed and the sand disappeared, "How? How on earth is that possible!" I yelled in frustration, the dragon chuckled again as he lit up a cigar, "Did you really think that I was called the Sand Dragon because I lived in a dessert? You silly girl, I am the Sand Dragon because I am the sand that makes up the dessert, all this land is an extension of me." I quickly became frustrated at his words and grabbed my sword again and just started swinging it around while mumbling my frustrations.

Crocodile POV

I watched as the maiden swung around her sword in the air frustrated, it was entertaining to watch. I let out one last puff of smoke before walking over to the maiden, I was about to speak when the maiden saw me and just yelled and started slashing me with their sword, I let them since it doesn't effect me anyway and let them take their frustration out, after a few minutes it became annoying so I grabbed them by the face and lifted them up to my eye level, " Listen, maiden I am going to give you one last chance to go train and learn how to defeat me, if you do not defeat me the next time we meet I will change your destiny by killing you before you can get rescued, got it?" I said as I squeezed their cheeks, they barely managed to nod their head yes and I felt myself relax a little. I took a deep inhale from the cigar between my lips and looked at the maiden, if it wasn't for them being so stubborn on trying to kill me, I might have found them cute. I blew a cloud of smoke in their face before dropping them. They quickly got up and grabbed their things, leaving in silence with their head low this time. I let out a sigh of frustration and went back inside my cave.

This maiden is something, frustrating? Yes. Attractive? Maybe... But I'll see if the maiden does come back again and will defeat me next time. Maybe I won't kill her next time, maybe I'll just keep her in my collection.......

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Sorry for the short one this week couldn't think of much to add for this chapter but the next chapter will be longer.

Kelly🐸

[dilatorywriting]

Reaper!Rook brainrot anon here - I'm back for a little extra >0<

(edit, as I polish this off: I think this turned out longer than the original agddjdkk I'm sorry ;v; I don't really have any fic intention behind any of this. Just pure, unfiltered brainrot that I wanted to share)

One of the things that keeps sticking in my head is how Reaper!Rook (a literal death entity/incarnation) helps you do domestic things, because he thinks it's charming and fun. But Rook is very very not normal and the dissonance it creates is something to behold.

Like for example, Rook knows, down to the approximate 10g how much flour you have left. He's also just generally memorized the exact contents of your pantry even though he's only been in there on a handful of occasions, and for a couple minutes at a time, at that. And once you explain certain recipes to him, he's able to calculate how much more you need of a certain ingredient at what seems to be a moments notice. The villagers (Ace, in particular) find this deeply unsettling, but you fail to see the problem, really. If Rook can remember your entire pantry, then that means you just have to bring him with you when you go to the market, and no longer have to keep track of a grocery list. Where is the downside, Ace? Where is it??

The villagers are watching this, watching Rook, walk behind you, with a 20 kg flour bag on one shoulder, as you smile and chat away together, with a sort of horrified fascination. This Rook and the Rook that brings dead bodies to their doorsteps at 3am does not quite compute. Until they stare a little too long and oop now Rook's looking them right in the eye and there's that supernatural, bone rattling chill deep in their spine and scenes from their life are flashing before their eyes and okay it's time to look away now-

Rook also lives with you now. From the moment you decided to "lie" to your family and Duchess Rosehearts about marrying him, Rook moved in. He was there, actually, when you read the 'proposal' letter, and when he'd asked you what you intended to do about it, it's a pity you didn't look over at him when you'd replied "I suppose I'll just tell them I'm marrying you. " If you had, you'd have seen a moment of genuine, near innocent, surprise flit over his face. It was gone the next moment, and as you'd watched your response letter disappear in a puff of magic smoke, he'd started one of his long soliloquies about the beauty of human nature and how he supposes this means he gets to study it up close now, since he should move in with you if this was to be made believable. And honestly, you couldn't really find it in you to argue with him. You did just rope him into this without really asking him and besides, it's not like you minded Rook's company.

The only thing that does take a little getting used to, is that you now apparently also sell murder at your little bakery. Rook had never had an address before, at least not one that anyone knew. He just showed up when it suited him. But now? Now that word got around that he was here (with you, his fiance, rumor had it) you occasionally got the odd, shuffling merchant who wandered in, eyes darting all over the place, with a single letter for Rook gripped in their fist. Fortunately, none of this seems to bring you any trouble. Either directly or indirectly because of Rook. No-one is going to bother your bakery; either because they dont dare to or because Rook makes it so they literally can't.

Someone from the Rosehearts family does, eventually, come down to your little bakery to ah, verify, your claim. It's Riddle, because of course Duchess Rosehearts wouldn't do something like this herself. Riddle is the more interested in your strawberry tarts than, literally anything else in the vicinity, but when he sees Rook pop out of the backroom you're immediately privy to the way his eyes widen and his face goes pale. The face of one of his servants, Cater, is the more entertaining spectacle, however, and you can't quite explain why you feel so satisfied viewing it. You send them home with tarts, nearly smirking to yourself.

There's serveral people, actually, who try to get you alone and explain that this marriage business may not be the best idea. It's amusing how they walk around saying Rook's name, and even more amusing that these are also the exact same people who'd consistently comment on your lacking marriage status before all of this. Each new person just further convinces you that you should absolutely definitely marry Rook, actually. You'd never really asked Rook to elaborate on if he had any Reaper friends (he'd just winked at you, when you'd asked if there were more like him, once), but you really hope he does so that you can invite them all to the wedding and have them sit next to these people, and you'd get to watch them all squirm in their seats. You don't really dwell on it too long though, because the thought of actually going through with it, the thought of marrying Rook, makes your heart race. You're not sure why - maybe constantly pushing down your feelings ever since you were little really was bad for you after all.

(And yeah! I don't really have anything else beyond... all of this. Just, a largely unbothered, apathetic, MC who ends up going full protective-partner-mode over Reaper!Rook, who scares everyone, but is also very charmingly odd and endering. And just. Rook.)

Holy hell in a hand basket this is so beyond glorious it’s melted my brain to goo. And aaaah of course I’m curled up in bed rn with such bad brain fog from cold meds that I can hardly write out my name legibly, let alone a story. But this is so, so amazing I want to eat it. I want to write an ethereal, reaper, Rook and I’m going to be thinking about this for days oh my goodness. I want to write all this so bad aaaaahhhhqlfbwofbeb maybe after a nap I’ll be a bit more coherent and can attempt because this is AMAZING and deserves Full Focus Brain

[loveneversleepss]

Chan as both tsundere/yandere

warnings: contains cursing, manipulation, stalking, obsession, mentions of killing & abuse, licking & biting, nicknames, angst, smoking, switch povs, smut, unprotected sex, hair pulling, squirting, creampie, Chan x female reader, reader is secretly a yandere.

I've always felt like I was alone. That there was no one like me. I thought no one understood.

I would do anything for someone to be able to relate to me, just someone to hear me. To see me. To want me as much as I want them. For my presence to be as important to them as they are to me.

Until there was you...

Fuck this job. Same shit everyday. Same basic ass people who have nothing better to do with their lives. All hiding behind a mask while they are all secretly hating their lives. So predictable. I know what their story is just by looking at them. God just one more hour until i get out of this hellhole.

"You got a light?"

I turn my head to a girl standing next to me. A cigarette in her mouth. I nod my head, taking my lighter out of my pocket. I light her cigarette as her eyes look up into mine. She inhales and blows the smoke away from me. "Knew you were a smoker."

She smirks and leans against the wall. I turn my focus to looking at the ground, I can feel her eyes on me. She takes another inhale and continues staring at me. "What's your name?" I look at her, a small upward smile laid on her lips. I ignore her and take my phone out.

"Chan?" I quickly changed my gaze to her. "Do you know me?" She walks towards me, she tilts her head to the side. "So you speak." She smirks again at me. "Nah, the name tag gave it away." I look down at my work shirt, my metal name tag glistening in the sunlight. She blows out another puff and then throws it on the floor. Using her shoe to put it out. My gaze going down to it.

I notice she's wearing black heels with red bottoms. Rich girl? Can’t be, the way she talks is too casual. Her clothes are simple, casual but elegant. A black skirt with a baggy silky top. Like a business woman? Her makeup slightly messy, like she had been crying a bit. Like a broken hearted teen? Her hair half up-half down, perfectly messy. Like if she was going to kick someone’s ass? At a glance she may seem like a normal person, but there’s something about her.

Who are you? Why can’t i figure you out? What makes you so different from the rest? Easy. You acknowledge my existence. You make the effort to figure me out. You’re interested in me. Which makes me wonder, are you who I’ve been waiting for?

“Woah. Are you checking me out?” My gaze quickly snaps up to her. “Sorry what?” I say confused. She crosses her arms and raises her eyebrow. “So staring intently across my body isn’t checking me out?” I shake my head no, “I wasn’t.” She nods her head, although it seems she doesn’t believe me.

“You are interesting.” She giggles a bit, turning her body to leave. “See you around, Chan.” She waves her hand bye as I watch her disappear around the corner. Now you, are worth my time.

~

It’s been a couple days since I last saw her. I didn’t even get to ask for her name. All proof of her that she actually exists is just my lighter. It remains untouched from when I used it for her. When I think back on her, her presence. The smell of cherries and smoke illuminating around me. Her glossy lips and perfect eyes, smudged eyeliner just a bit. The confidence plastered on her body language. And yet, I don’t know who you are. What kind of person she is. That’s what I like about you. The unpredictability of you.

I could drown in you. I would go to the ends of the earth for you. Even if I could just have you fue a second. My life would be fulfilled. You are all I want. All I need.

“Excuse me, do you work here?” I know this voice. I turn around to my eyes meeting with hers. Those eyes. A smile gleaming on her lips. My breath is taken away. “Is that a yes orrr?” I nod my head. I can’t bring myself to form words, even though I really want to. She lets out a light laugh, she leans on the table dividing us lightly. “What do you recommend? I’ve never been here before.”

Right. This boring little coffee shop which I call a job. Or a hellhole.

"Well what do you prefer? Sweet, savory, or strong drinks?"

She flashes a big smile to me. "Surprise me." She slid me some money on the table. I grab it and I hand her the change. Our fingers lightly graze past each other. She feels soft. She turns and leaves to sit at a table. I go to make her order.

Once i finish, i turn around to bring it to her. She's reading a book. 'Fruits basket.' She has her pen in her mouth, chewing on the end. Lips curve up into a smile, her eyes twinkling as they move as she reads. Her leg crossed over the other, bouncing up and down happily. Her eyes flicker up to me, curious. She puts her book down, "Is that for me?"

I walk over and place it in front of her. She immediately grabs it and brings it up to lips. Taking a big sip and her eyes twinkled up at me. "Perfect." She sits back in her chair. Our eyes make eye contact for a couple seconds. I look away looking at her book again.

"You want to be seen. You want to be wanted. You want someone to understand you."

My eyes shoot to look at her again. "What did you just say?" She nods her head towards the book. “Kyo. The main character. Thats what he needed. What he longed for the most.” She stands up and gathers her stuff. “You remind me of him, you know?” She lightly touches my hair. My hearts beating fast now. Once again, I smell her cherry aura but this time there’s no smoke smell. She smiles and walks away, out the cafe. My body not moving as I feel shocked.

Shit. I forget to ask her name again. Crap. I sigh and look at the table she was sitting at. Then noticing a piece of paper. I walk towards it and pick it up.

Thanks for the drink. It’s my favorite. -y/n(First and last).

….

Y/n. So that’s your name. It suits you. It’s the only thing that really matches you. You’re hard to figure out. But now a name, I can find out.

Luckily thanks to new advances on the internet. Finding a girl like you would be easy. Immediately you pop up. Not much to your social media. The occasional selfies and pics with friends. Just exactly who are you?

What is it about you that is so fascinating? That has me hooked?

Now scrolling through your following to discover you follow a publishing company. To find that you wrote a book. Sold many in fact. A writer. That's who you are.

That's why you were so keen to read your book. How you're so free to flow with anyone. Connecting to everyone you meet with just a look. How you were so easy to read me.

But you don't just connect to anyone. I'm different. You like me. You will be mine. Just you wait.

~

I was crossing the street when I noticed you standing in front of me. Is this fate? How could we meet like this without even trying?

I decided I should follow you.. Just to make sure you're safe. That no one hurts you.

A little while later, we arrived at your apartment. You live on the top floor. It has a balcony which you like to read on. Drink coffee in the mornings and watch the people pass by.

But most importantly, you like people to watch. To watch your stupid hookups. Those men who can never treat you like I can. Who always leave you unsatisfied. Which after they leave you have to pleasure yourself.

Once you're mine, you'll never have to do that. I promise you that.

~

One night, I was watching as yet another guy came onto you. But this time you pushed him off. He was angry. He began to try to grab you. You are pushing him off with all your strength. He then slaps you which brings you to the floor. He seems to apologize but you get back up. Managing you to kick him out of your place as you shut the door in his face.

I will make sure he will never hurt you again. That will be the last thing he will ever do. I slide out the knife from my pocket as I follow this man home..

~

One night, you've left. To a friends house or whatever. But you've left your window open. Through the side of your building, there's a fence that grows up to your balcony. Perfect to crawl into at night. I take the chance to explore.

To really figure you out and how you live. I crawled in successfully. To find your life portrayed everywhere. Your bed. Clothes. Which I couldn't help but sneak a pair of one of your panties. It smells like you.

You've left papers scattered on your coffee table. Which I couldn't help but take a peek at. To find that you're writing another book. But this character sounds too familiar. It's about me.

How dirty you are, y/n. You've written fantasies about me. How you wish my hands were on your body. My lips on yours. How every guy you encounter in your bed, you wished I was there.

Your wish will soon be answered my love.

~

"Come on let's gooo." My little sister Hannah begs me. I glare at her. "Just why should I?"

"Because it'll be a chance for you to leave the house. Plus there will be many girls there." She is slowly getting on my nerves. I don't want any girls. No one besides you. You are the only girl for me.

"Please?" She gets on her knees and shoots me puppy dog eyes. "Fine." She gets up and squeals. "Omgggg thank youu." She hugs me and runs to her room to get ready.

Guess I'll have to get ready now.

~

As soon as we get to the party, Hannah ditches me. Hope she doesn't get herself in trouble. I walk over to what seems to be drinks. A mysterious punch, hope it won't make me pass out. Then, a girl taps my shoulder.

"Hey. wanna dance?" This girl says slurring her words. "Not interested." She attempts to grab my arm but I pull away before she does. "Get lost." She makes a poutty face and runs away looking like she's gonna cry. I roll my eyes and take a sip of the drink. I spit it back in the cup from how strong it is.

"Strong, huh." I look up to meet your eyes. It's you.

~Thanks to the glorious internet, earlier you posted about a party. This party. I knew i couldn't miss this opportunity. The opportunity to see you. ~

"Pretty intense scene earlier. The girl doesn't know how to keep her hands to herself." I watch as you take a sip from your drink. "You saw that?" I say as I rub the back of my neck.

"Was about to come throw hands with her if she didn't take her hands off you." I tilt my head to the side. "What's it to you. I'm a grown man. I could do whatever I want with other girls."

She smirks at me. "Really? Well I'm a grown woman with needs. And my needs tell me that I want you." She comes closer to me, putting her hands around my neck. Our lips inches away. "Would you like that, pretty boy?" Her thumb rubs across my bottom lip.

My heart starts to race in my chest, so much that I think it'll pop out soon. She moves my head to the side to whisper in my ear. "I've been watching you, watching me. Mr. Stalker." She licks my earlobe teasingly.

My body freezes. Does she know? How did she figure it out easily? She backs away and laughs. "Jeez. calm down, Chan. I was only kidding." My name sounds so perfect coming out of your mouth.

I try to laugh it off, trying my best not to seem scared or awkward. You smile at me and look around. "Wanna get out of here?"

~

A part of me feels bad for leaving Hannah there but I called my mom to pick her up.

y/n is more important than her right now. And she invited me to her house. Which we are currently standing in front of.

"Home sweet home." She says as she unlocks and opens her front door. She closes the door behind us as she sits on her couch. She looks over at me and pats down the spot next to her. Motioning for me to sit next to her.

"Want a drink?" I nod my head as she gets up to go to the kitchen. "Oh Chan, can you get me a towel from my bathroom?" She yells from the kitchen as I hear clutter. "Yeah, sure." I say and walk down the hallway to her bathroom. I pick u a towel she has laying there.

Until.. the realization hits. She never told me where the bathroom was. I look at myself in the mirror. My eyes are wide as I see myself breathing hard. I walk slowly back toe the living room.

She's sitting on the chair facing me with a cigarette in her mouth.

"Caught you."

~~

From the first day you saw him. A tall, fit dude minding his business. You knew who exactly he was. Took you no time to figure him out. A smoker? Let's find out.

Your first meet. It revealed that he would be interested in you after. but he'll need a little push at times. Which you'll gladly do.

You planned everything perfectly. Making sure your social media was up to date. So he'll know exactly who you are and what you do. But keeping it a secret that you know he watches you.

The first time you noticed was when you were walking home. You had originally planned to follow him, but when you saw him. You couldn't pass up the opportunity to have him follow you. To know where you live.

Now that he knows where you live, you can't help but tease him a little. Fucking men in front of the window knowing he's watching. Leaving the window open for him to crawl inside. Which you pretended to leave and watched him from afar. Watched him crawl inside your house and get to know what it's like from inside.

You had made sure to write those stories about him so he could read them. So that he knows how badly you want him as he wants you.

But not everything was planned. Certainly you getting slapped by that lowlife wasn't planned. But you knew Chan was watching. You knew that he would take care of it. Which he did once you found out that lowlife went missing. My protector.

You knew he was going to be at that party if you were going. You made sure of it by posting it. When you finally saw him again. Your heart was going to burst out of your chest. That dirty girl had no right to put her hands on him. you wanted to rip her head off. But he handled it.

you couldn't help but tease him a bit. Him freezing on the spot was entertaining to watch. Your plan was going perfectly. Now you invited him to your house, which will be the ultimate test.

Which he made the mistake of going to your bathroom, which you knew that you never told him about.

~~

She smirks at me. Holy shit. She knew.

"My sweet Chan." She puts out her cigarette in the cup of wine. She walks close to me. She places her hands on my cheeks.

"we were made for each other Chan." Her eyes shine into mine. A thousand stars in her eyes. "You protected me. You ended that lowlife for me. I love you for that.. Do you love me Chan?"

“There’s not a thing in world, that I wouldn’t do for you.” She smiles big at me. "I love you y/n."

"good." She leans in, our lips finally connecting at last. My arms wrapping around her waist. Our tongues colliding and mixing our tastes together. She's so addicting. She wraps her legs around me.

I take her to the bedroom and lay her down. Not breaking the kiss in the slightest. She breaks free one of her hands to palm me through my pants. I groan in her mouth.

"I need you so bad Chan." She mumbles against my lips. Lord have mercy. This woman will be the death of me. ~

You feel him get hard under your hand. His breaths become harsh as he attempts to keep kissing you. You unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants as you sneak your hand into his boxers. Feeling his warm length as you rub him up and down.

He whimpers out. “Fuck y/n.” His eyes roll back as you continue stroking him. “Tell me how good it feels.” His head drops to your neck. “It’s feels so good y/n. Please don’t stop.” He whimpers out again. You take the opportunity to flip him on his back.

He watches you pull down his boxers and pants down. You lean over and kiss him again as you stroke him. His muffled whimpers and groans are starting to get you woozy. Making you feel butterflies in your crotch area. “Fuck Chan I can’t anymore.”

He looks at you confused as you move your body directly above his length. Little does he not know that you choose not to wear any underwear under your skirt. Letting easy access for you to sink into him. Without warning you sink down on him. Your head falls back as your mouth falls open.

He lets out a loud groan as he fills you up. “Fuck fuck fuck y/n!” You don’t care. You start to ride him letting your pleasure take over. Your clit lightly gliding against him as your legs start to tremble lightly. He fills you up so good and you can’t get enough. He places his hands on your waist to help you grind. His moans are heavenly.

This whole situation is everything you wished for. He is everything you wished for. He rips off your shirt as you continue grinding on him. You immediately grab his hands and place them on your tits. Craving his touch. He gladly obeys and pulls you bra down to tease your nipples. You let out a high pitched moan as he pinched them.

A noise like that has never left your mouth before. You start to slow your pace down as you start to get tired. He notices and switches you around. Now he’s on top and your on your knees. He succeeds in rubbing off your skirt. Leaving you only in your bra now. He pushes your head down on the bed as he starts to pound into you. The pleasure starts to get to much and you try to move away from him.

Earning a small smack on your ass from him. “Uh uh you started this. Take it.” He grabs a fistful of your hair and tugs on it. Moans and whimpers are all that is leaving your mouth. Your legs start to tremble as you can feel your high coming.

“Chan.. don’t stop please.” There was no way he was gonna stop. Seeing your legs tremble because of him was making him feel like god. Providing you pleasure none of those other guys could. Your pussy on his cock was heaven to him.

You feel the knot in your tummy get tighter and tighter. Finally seeing the end as you start to lose control of your body. One more thrust from him and it was over. You feel your liquids shoot out of you and your body goes numb. You slowly come down as you feel him about to reach his high too.

You grab onto his hand and look back at him. “Cum inside me Chan.” You shoot your iconic eyes at him as he keeps the eye contact. His mouth opens wide as you feel him shoot his load inside you. He pulls out slowly and watches his cub drip out of your pussy.

“Holy shit.” You laugh at his comment. He kisses the side of your cheek as he gets up. He grabs a towel and cleans you off. You pull him on top of you and kiss him. “Now you can’t leave.” You tell him.

He looks at you as he caresses your cheek.

“I will never leave you.”

~

I had always thought that there was no one like me. That no one understood me. Until you, you were exactly like me..

Taglist: @kitakirasstuff @jdopes-recorder @midsoulz @queenmea604 @hyunsungbased @moasworld

a/n: hiii everyoneee. I hope you all enjoyed reading the first fic to this new series. I will start to write the new fic today and should upload it soon . mwah bye now!

[fioreofthemarch]

Finding Her - Chapter 13

Link makes notes, takes photos and keeps time on his quest across Hyrule, in the hopes of finding Zelda and staying sane until he does. [ Previous | Next | First | AO3 ]

Log date: 17:30. 7th month, 27th day 10AC. Location: Gerudo Desert Gateway  Weather: Hot, low humidity 

Started the week at Outskirts Stables. Picked up a few errands here and there — the Stable Trotters have lost their flutist (flautist? flutee?), one of the stablehands wanted to catch a stalhorse so for his own good I said I’d do it, and Penn, of course, had a new lead. 

We interviewed Nell, one of the Zonai researchers, who said he’d been asked by a stranger to help her find her friend. Something felt off he said. I’ve known Nell a while, since before the Calamity ended — he’s one of Zelda’s more sensible researchers, and hard to fool. Believed him right away. 

I had a hunch, and came up with a plan. Fetched a bucket of water from the stable and went in search of the woman, with Penn in tow. Found her shading under a large tree, mumbling something about her friend being lost and in danger. 

Step one: take the bucket, and upend it over the woman. Her shriek made me doubt this, but only for a moment. As she and Penn were demanding to know what was going on, I prepared step two: a Topaz Rod, recently won from a wizzrobe in Hyrule Ridge. The woman’s eyes went wide. ‘What are you doing?’ 

I said that she must recognise me, and know my name, and have heard of what I had done to Yiga like her. I held the electric rod towards her soaked clothes and assured her that I had no wish to hurt anyone, but that I knew what I was capable of, now. And that neither of us should want to find out what that was. 

The woman disappeared in a puff of smoke and in her place — a Yiga in full gear. ‘Kohga will hear of this’, they said, and then they were gone. Do I feel bad? Not sure. A little fear can go a long way, and avoid a lot of bloodshed. Still, Penn’s been nervous around me ever since. 

From Outskirts Stable, we hiked to Gerudo Canyon. Penn decided to join, having heard of further rumours of Zelda’s whereabouts. It was tough going over rocky and sometimes flooded terrain, but it wasn’t all bad: we rescued three lost travellers, and helped unblock the well at the Gerudo Canyon stables. 

I do feel bad about that. It was only after we opened the well (standard issue monster infestation) that I remembered it was Zelda who ordered it closed in the first place. We promised to come back and clear it out, but never did. Thankfully the owner didn’t seem to remember me. Or maybe, he was too polite to complain.

A photograph of the now defunct Gerudo Canyon Stables, its furniture and wears packed into large boxes. Penn is sitting atop some of them, scribbling notes for his next article.  

Caption: I hope they stay, after all. 

---

Warning: Detecting high levels of particulate matter, Purah Pad geographic sensors offline. 

Please keep the Purah Pad ports, buttons and casings free of sand, dust or other abrasives. The Purah Pad’s patented level surface visual-tactile interface is not scratch resistant, at this time.

---

Log date: 12:15. 7th month, 28th day 104AC Location: Kara Kara Bazaar, Gerudo Desert  Weather: Sandstorm. Visibility ten metres. 

Made it to Kara Kara Bazaar. Instinct says turn back. Don’t like ignoring it, when so far it’s kept me alive. 

Not far from Gerudo Canyon the trouble facing Gerudo presented itself — a sandstorm, and a big one. Can’t even tell where it ends, except that it hasn’t reached Kara Kara. If it were just a storm, I’d wait to let it pass – eat a few hydromelons, snooze by the oasis…

But it’s not just a storm. 

I’d just purchased a Gerudo headband to stay cool when I heard two Hylians arguing: You go find him! No, you go! Their buddy was missing in the storm, so I offered to help. They said he’d run off after gibdo attacked the bazaar. Gibdo? They didn’t know how to explain, their only advice being don’t get grabbed. Easy enough. I headed out and met with an ocean of scratchy brown air. Nothing but sand and cactuses and shrubs until… something moved. 

Just one at first, then more, and then they were everywhere. Shambling, creaking things with long mandibles and beady eyes. I hit one with an arrow, and then a sword, and it didn’t flinch. Then it had its hands on me, jaws clicking and oozing, inches from my face. I froze up, but instinct kicked in and I shook free, running fast as I could and stumbling over sand until suddenly it gave way and I was falling — down, down, down. 

The good news is I found Ponthos, the missing Hylian. He’d gotten stuck in a cave below a sinkhole. We made it back to Kara Kara without running into another one of those things, and his buddies were so happy they gave me an orb. Which isn’t rupees, but surely someone is in the market for… orb. 

The bad news is Gerudo Town is at the centre of the storm, I think. And the only way to reach them (and help them) is to make my way there on foot. 

A photograph of Gerudo Desert and the blanket of raging sand that covers it. A Zonai creation - a sled with a fan and steering stick attached - is poised ready to go just outside the edge of the storm. 

Caption: Maybe I don’t have to go on foot, exactly.

---

Log date: 05:35. 7th month, 29th day 104AC Location: Underground Shelter, Gerudo Town  Weather: Sandstorm. Visibility five metres.  

Arrived in Gerudo Town, found it abandoned. Snooped around until I found Riju’s diary (why do people always leave them open and so easy to read…)

She wrote of the sudden appearance of the sandstorm, the hasty evacuation of everyone into an underground shelter, and her wish to do something to help, going off to the North Ruins to train. 

We kept close contact with Chief Riju, over the years. She and Zelda had a lot in common. They were two sides of the same coin in a way; Zelda led through analysis, weighing options, evaluating outcomes, where Riju led through action, trial and error, and gathering feedback. They relied on each other a lot, and together they made it work. 

So no surprise to find Riju taking a hands on approach. She’d been working on a lightning power and just needed arrows to help her guide her focus. I was happy to oblige. When she heard that Zelda was still missing, she paused a moment, and looked back to the storm: ‘Let’s sort this mess out first, Link’.

Mess is an understatement. The gibdo marched on Kara Kara first, and then Gerudo Town. We figured out fast enough that they’re weak to electricity, it practically blows them up. Fire burns them and water turns them to mud, so plenty of options. But there’s also plenty of them, and their nests take a beating before they go down. Worse, some of them fly. Others are fast. We only survived the attacks thanks to Captain Teake’s soldiers and Lieutenant Padda’s cannons, as well as Riju’s lightning. She challenged me to a contest before each fight: whoever downed the most gibdo got the wildberry tart she’d been saving. But we both stopped counting after fifty, so we split the reward.

Now I’m here, in the underground shelter. Suppose they don’t mind a voe around so long as he saved the town. Riju hasn’t slept – she’s working on a lead about the source of the sandstorm. Will help her soon. For now, in the mood for breakfast, and keen to try the fried voltfruit they make here… 

A photograph of the painted mural in the Gerudo underground shelter, a determined Riju standing before it. She is deep in thought, a hand to her chin. There is no hint of fatigue on her features. 

Caption: Never seen a Gerudo back down from a challenge.  

---

Log date: 17:45. 7th month, 29th day 104AC Location: The Mural’s Myth (Lightning Temple), Gerudo Desert  Weather: Sandstorm. Visibility less than one metre. 

Injured. Typing with right hand. Left in bad shape. 

Made it to Lightning Temple. Three pillars in the desert, three lights, metal conduit in the middle. Hit it with Riju’s lightning. “Zelda” was there, but gone soon after. Big stone temple rose from the sand. Mural’s Myth? Probably not what it was called. 

Big bug guarding it. BIG bug – the Gibdo Queen. Not fun. Never any fun. Gotta be source of the storm. 

We chased her off, Riju’s lightning very helpful. But I got bit, left hand. A gibdo jumped me, sunk in its teeth. Hurts bad. Bandaged it up, fairy tonic didn’t do much. Poison? Hand’s burning. 

Going on anyway. Can’t leave Riju alone, can’t let Gibdo Queen escape. Hurts hurts hurts. Riju seems scared, but trying not to show it. Gotta show her we can still do this – that she can still do this. 

A photograph of the outside of the Lightning Temple, the ancient stone pyramid emerging from the sand. The photo is a little blurry, taken with unsteady hands. 

Caption: Stay alive. Just stay alive.  

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Log date: 10:20. 7th month, 31st day 104AC Location: Gerudo Down Weather: Clear. Hot. 

Where to begin. I, Chief Riju, of Gerudo Town, am making this account, in the season of the Sun, on the tenth day of the fifth Heroine. I believe the equivalent Hylian date is attached to this log, so I will not transcribe it. 

I am pleased to report that all is well in Gerudo Town. By the Heroine’s and the Goddess’ blessing, Link is still with us. We have seen his illness before, many times. The lizalfos of Gerudo Desert often use poison as defence, but a concoction of voltfruit and electric saffina is a powerful salve, and it worked quickly to heal Link’s infected hand. His injuries there still pain him, so I have offered to keep up the task of maintaining this extensive photojournal, for the time being. 

We had just arrived at the Lightning Temple the day before last, to confront the Queen Gibdo. It was there that Link was injured, but he insisted we continue, and that I lead the way. “Your power opened this place, and your power destroyed the gibdos. I’m just a conduit.” 

And so we went on – through winding hallways, treacherous traps, and puzzling chambers, up and up through the huge pyramid structure until we at last reached the roof, and the den of that foul beast. 

She was magnificent, in her own terrible way: six segmented legs with snatching talons, a fluttering scruff from which her shrieks shook the air, and grotesque hairy wings that bent and warped in impossible ways. She, like all monarchs, was fiercely protective of her subjects — and to the death.  

Link’s strength had been waning our entire climb, and there were beads of sweat on his face that I knew were not from the desert heat. By the time we felled the Queen Gibdo – in a desperate and chaotic fight – he could barely stand. When I shook his hand to pass on my Vow, as was my sacred duty as the Sage of Lightning, I could feel him shaking. 

I admit, I don’t know what I would have done, if he hadn’t made it. I have lived with so much doubt for so long – am I doing what is right? Am I worthy of being Chief? Link’s confidence in me erased these doubts, and his perseverance was what won the day, I believe. 

After he’d recovered, needing only a day to come back from the brink of death, Link proposed a new way to hone my abilities. “The leader of the Yiga Clan is hiding in the Depths below Hyrule. I’d like your help to root him out.” I wish I could capture the look on Buliara’s face when he suggested it! But she could hardly say no — I am a Sage now, after all. 

Ah, I have never seen such a fearsome and beautiful place as the Depths. Its deadly terrain, fierce monsters and hidden treasure spoke of a land of hardship and discovery, qualities close to the hearts of the Gerudo. No wonder then that our dark reflection, the Yiga, have flourished there. Once we found them at the Abandoned Gerudo Mine, however, it was fast work to dispatch them. They had funny little Zonai contraptions that flew through the air, with which they may have been able to outrun my blades – but nothing can outrun lightning. 

Link held back, confident in my abilities. I thought it a failure when I reported to him that Master Kohga had escaped, but he was not disappointed. “The Yiga and I have unfinished business,” he said. “Hopefully next time I see them, I’ll be ready.” I assured him that he would defeat the Yiga, but he said that was not what worried him. I sensed a darkness in his voice then — the rage of a warrior scorned that the Gerudo know well — and I understood that he had restrained himself from the Yiga for their benefit, not his. 

With our immediate troubles past us, I must now do my part to find the Princess. We saw her likeness near the Temple, but I, like Link, do not believe it was really her. I know Zelda too well: in a crisis, the first thing she ever wants to do is talk. The several hundred letters we have exchanged through the years can attest to that. She would never keep away from us, unless something was very wrong. 

Zelda is out there, somewhere. I know it. It’s not where we look, but how. 

A photograph of Link relaxing on a cushioned sofa in a sunny courtyard in Gerudo Town. His left hand is wrapped in a thick bandage, while in his right he holds a sunset coloured drink garnished with wedges of fruit, in a tall glass with a thin stem and a wide brim. It’s an ice cool reward for a well-earned thirst. 

Caption: Very few women in Gerudo history have known what it’s like to have a brother, and I am one of them (he let me have a sip, when Buliara wasn’t looking).  

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Incoming transmission… Message medallion activated. 

Answer transmission?

… …

Answer transmission?

… …

Answer—

LNK: Hello? 

JSH: Goddess be praised! Link, where are you?

LNK: Gerudo Town. Why?

JSH: No time to explain. You have to come back to Lookout Landing. Did you find the Lighting Sage? I’ve sent word for the others but—

LNK: Josha. What’s going on? 

JSH: You have to come back, as fast as you can. It’s urgent, really urgent. 

LNK: Why, Josha?. It’s not a short trip.

JSH: We— We found Zelda! She’s at Hyrule Castle and it’s really her, Link, I swear it. 

LNK: Zel…what? How?!

JSH: Dr. Purah spotted her through the telescope. It’s like the Princess is calling out to us. Link, please hurry! 

[A pause, and a sigh]

LNK: Alright, but tell everyone to be ready for a fight.

JSH: W-what? It’s the Princess! 

LNK: Just tell them to be ready. I’ll be there soon. 

Connection terminated.