#ohh shes useless

[neodiekido]

it really steams me when people act like himiko got no development. even if you somehow missed the whole ending of chapter 3 where she finally stops repressing her feelings and sobs and swears that she'll make it out alive even though she's so lonely without angie and tenko, there's still a visible contrast between the apathetic, passively suicidal girl you first meet and later game himiko trying her best to keep going and keeping her chin up even though it's hard and scary

[itneverendshere]

BLESS HALLOWEEN - r.c (+18)

pairing: frat!rafe/ghostface!rafe x reader (uni au) warnings: no plot; smut

inspired by this audio (+18)

between midterms, a terrible class project partner, and your roommate constant need to fuck her boyfriend at any given hour of the day, you’re half asleep most days.

the only thing you should be doing is sleeping, anywhere, for hours, but instead, you let yourself get dragged to a halloween party. 

sure, you’re running on three hours of sleep and five cups of coffee, but heaven forbid you to miss a party because your roommate just had to be there. never mind that she’s been wearing her "not-so-pg sexy witch" costume since last tuesday, casting spells for her crush to notice her (like he doesn’t see half her skin every night anyway).

you look hotter than you'd like to admit. black mini dress? check. sky-high boots? check. a little lace mask that hides just enough to keep the mystery going? obviously.

you're not trying too hard, but you’re giving just enough to turn heads, with a vibe that says, “i might ruin your life, but you'll thank me for it."

you’re rocking some version of a "slutty masquerade," not that anyone could guess what that means, but it gets you a free drink within five minutes. and the best part? nobody knows it’s you.

the only downside is that you’re in his territory.

it could be anywhere, but it’s happening at his frat.

your project partner, personal headache and resident menace, rafe cameron holds court here like he’s king of the idiots.

he’s hot, you’ll give him that, guy’s all charm until it’s time to work; then he’s as useless as that cheap foundation your roommate keeps borrowing.

and now you’re here, half hoping to avoid his face entirely—his smirk that screams "’m getting credit off your hard work" and that irking attitude that makes him think he’s doing you a favor.

as if seeing him once a week in class isn’t enough of a problem. you pull your mask down a bit lower, not that he’d recognize you through the lace, but just in case.

against all odds, you’re having a good time. the drinks are good—something sugary—and you find yourself laughing, loosening up.

mid-laugh, you walk straight into someone, practically face-plant into a solid chest. you stagger back, the guy's hand catching your elbow to hold you, and you look up, only to be met with a ghostface mask.

“ohh, sorry,” he says with an amused chuckle like he's getting a kick out of startling you. "sorry, sorry—i  didn’t mean to scare you," he adds, not sounding remotely apologetic.

you raise a brow, your lips curving just slightly. “hmm, you sure? cause it kinda looks like you enjoy it."

he puts a hand up in mock innocence. “nah, i swear, completely unintentional,” 

you blink up at him, squinting against the red lighting to catch a better look at his mask. it’s honestly a little creepy up close, that ghostface grin somehow twisting a bit more under the lights and crowd. but you’re in the mood to get laid tonight.

"nice costume,” you don’t bother to hide the way your eyes stuck to every corner of his body, “scary.���

he doesn’t catch it though, leaning down, head tilting, “what?” he asks, chuckling a bit as he stands closer. “yeah, sorry—the music’s way too loud.”

rolling your eyes with a little attitude, you repeat yourself, a bit louder. “i said, your costume’s scary.”

he nods, shaking his head like he’s relieved, and rubs the back of his neck, as if this mask isn’t hiding the flush you think you see creeping up his neck. “oh, thanks. yeah, uh, you look…” his voice trails off a little, and he clears his throat, swallowing. “you look pretty, uh, scary too.”

you raise a brow, "you think so?"

he nods again, “yeah, ’m terrified of hot women, so…”

the music cuts him off this time around, his words getting lost in the heavy bass, it’s harder to know what he’s saying when you can’t read his lips. you frown, stepping closer into his space. “hmm?”

the guy practically jolts, “nothing, nothing—it’s, uh…” he stammers, then gestures at your face, his fingers brushing near your mask. “it’s a cool mask.”

you smile, amused. “thanks, ghostface. should i be, y’know, scared of you?”

 “i don’t know, that depends. should i be scared of you?”

"nop, you're cute. i like where this is going."

the guy’s mask tilts, there’s smidge of surprise in his voice. "really? so—so you’re into masks and, like, the whole psycho-killer thing?”

you shrug nonchalantly, letting your gaze drag over him slower. "only if they're hot and built like you."

there's a short pause, and you can practically feel the amused smile hidden under his mask. “oh, okay, yeah, yeah—so what is it? do you like being scared, or?”

there’s something about a guy like him—tall, broad-shouldered, who could probably break you in half without even trying. and honestly? you like that kind of shit. you’ve always wanted a guy who could cover you with his entire body, who’d tower over you in a way that was intimidating enough to make your heart pound. 

the kind that, if you begged nicely, might just be able to cut off your oxygen in bed with one hand. and here he is, looking like he could throw you around a little if you wanted him to. which you might. his hand still hovering near your waist isn’t exactly subtle either—it’s like he knows, somehow. either way, you keep your expression smooth, not giving him anything, it’s more fun that way.

you let out a giggle that’s only partly mocking. "maybe i just like danger, ghostface. or maybe i like watching people squirm."

“holy shit, that’s fucked up.”

you take a slow sip of your drink, watching his shirt cling to his chest as he takes a deep breath, every inch of that body sculpted to the fucking gods like it was made for nights like this. shit, that’s a nice body. 

you can’t help the sly smirk that pulls at your lips as you murmur, “what’s wrong with liking it rough?”

he snickers, almost breathlessly, and you know you’re getting to him. “there’s something a little wrong with you.”

yeah, there is. you almost blurt out the truth—that your panties are drenched and practically glued to your skin because of him, that he’s got you feeling hornier than you’ve felt in a long time. but you choose to let your fingers trail down his arm, slow and teasing. 

“you think so?” you faux-pout, giving him a look that’s all dark lashes and bad intentions.

he swallows, stumbling over his words. “y-yeah, i mean, there’s some things you need to… work on.”

you tilt your head, smiling in that way you know drives guys crazy, leaning in just enough to make him catch his breath. “would you like to help me?”

he stares at you, goosebumps rising along his arm where your fingers still rest, visibly caught off guard, “what does that mean?”

with a wicked grin, you reach up, wrapping your manicured hands around his neck, his breath all but halting as you pull him down until his face is level with yours. his breath hitches, and you take your time, letting your lips brush the shell of his ear, enough to make him shiver. 

“you find me upstairs,” you murmur, voice dripping with promise, “and ’m all yours. okay?”

instead of waiting for him to process it, you’re already sneaking off into the crowd, leaving him rooted. you don’t try looking back, already feeling his stare burning into you, dazed and desperate as he takes in what you just promised. you don’t second guess yourself once, you know he’s coming.

by the time he shakes himself out of his trance, you’re halfway up the stairs.

at the top, you stop, one quick peek over your shoulder to check if he’s still watching.

you push open a random door and slip into an empty room, locking eyes with yourself in the mirror. hair a little wild, eyes glinting with that mischievous glint you know all too well. you adjust your mask, the lace sitting just right over your cheekbones. you pull your dress higher, letting it ride up just a little higher, admiring the way the fabric clings to you, showing off every curve.

you turn the lights off, letting the room fall into shadows. he’ll have to work for it if he wants to find you. you can imagine the way he’ll hesitate, hand hovering over the doorknob, wondering what the hell he’s getting himself into. 

why make it easy for him?

rafe watches you leave, standing there like a fucking idiot, heart hammering in his chest as he replays what just happened. the words “find me upstairs, and i’m all yours” looping in his mind like a mantra. the confidence in your voice, the way you looked at him like you already knew he’d be following—fuck, it’s enough to make him hard just thinking about it.

he swallows, trying to be calm as he looks around, but there’s no hiding the way his breathing’s quickened, how his body is buzzing at the thought of finding you, alone, in a dark room, just waiting for him.

you’re playing with him, he tells himself, but he doesn’t care. he’s going to go after you anyway.

pushing through the crowd, he’s half-dazed, talking to himself under his breath, almost wheezing out a series of what the fucks. his grip wraps around the banister as he ascends the stairs, his fingers still itching from where you’d brushed against him. he feels completely out of his element. girls flirt with him all the time, he’s with girls all the time, sure, but this—this is different.��

he always been a sucker for a good challenge and you’d practically left him in the dust, tossing back that promise without even checking if he’d follow.

at the top, he pauses, looking down the hallway, every door holding the possibility that you might be behind it, waiting. 

rafe feels that thrill coil in his stomach, his heart pounding in anticipation. he’s like a kid on halloween night, trick-or-treating at the house he’s always been too afraid to knock on. but you dared him, so there’s no way he’s backing out now.

he starts with the first door, pushing it open only to find it empty, checking the shadows, in case you’re hiding, but nothing. he goes into the next door, finding a couple already in there, and quickly shuts it again, eyes slamming shut, ignoring their annoyed stares as he backs out.

third time’s the charm, yeah? he thinks, reaching for the next door and pulling it open. the door creaks as it swings shut behind him, his footsteps are slow, hesitant, and the scuff of his shoes against the floor makes him cringe. 

it takes him a second for his eyes to adjust to the dark, pupils dilating as he walks further inside.his breathing is loud and uneven, almost like he’d run all the way here. he stops in the middle of the room, his chest rising and falling hard, his breath painfully audible. 

his heart is doing an annoying thing, pounding, and he swears he can hear it.

did he misread you? the space is eerily quiet, he can’t help but wonder if he’s been set up, if you’re somewhere downstairs, laughing at how eagerly he followed your trail up here like a fucking dumbass.

rafe scans the room’s edges, searching, and he notices a quick movement in the corner—something. he swallows he leans forward a little, squinting to make out any familiar shape.

“you wanna play hide and seek?” he calls out, hoping he’s not making a fool out of himself, “is that it?” he’s taking gulps of air, feeling dizzy from being in the dark for so long, “you like this?”

a quiet giggle echoes from one of the corners, inviting, and he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. you’re playing this game too well, lurking just beyond his reach, and the longer he waits, the more desperate he feels.

he swallows, his mind spiraling as he steps walks around, slow and cautious, hands slightly trembling. he’s caught off guard by just how badly he wants you; the way you kept looking at him like he was the prey downstairs, has him all kinds of worked up. 

his cock stirring against his jeans is proof enough. 

“you want me to scare you or somethin’?” he provokes you, praying it’s enough to lure you out, “you think it’s smart? letting a stranger chase you into a room, with no one else around. you’re all alone with me.”

“who says you’re that dangerous?”

the second the words leave your mouth, rafe’s resolve slips. 

it’s maddening, the way you’re hiding from him, how your voice seems to come to him from every dark corner of the room. he shouldn’t have drowned two shots before following you, but the liquid courage had been tempting. 

you’re keeping him on a tight leash, making him wonder if he’s got a shot or if you’re just messing with his head. he wants to see you again, your expression—wants to read you, even if the last time he tried, he ended up with his mind in knots.

“you don’t even know my name,” he muses, taking a couple steps closer to the closet, “does that make it more fun for you? that you don’t know anything about me?”

his movements are cautious, almost reverent as if you’re something sacred and forbidden all at once. he stops, opening the doors, leaning inside as he half-whispers, “not here, huh?” no answer, just silence, but he swears he can feel you watching him, your gaze prickling his skin, almost burning, “where are you? c’mon come out, i’ll go easy on you.”

he sighs, sounding like more of a frustrated exhale. no sign of you anywhere. he shakes his head, letting out a soft laugh, more amused than annoyed. 

“be a good girl and come out.”

rafe stalks around the room with the focus of someone hunting prey, his footsteps deliberate, his hands gliding along the walls and over furniture. he reaches the small bathroom door adjacent to the room, his fingers tightening around the handle. his lips pull into a smirk as he pauses—listening. 

the room’s quiet, but then, he hears it: the faint, uneven rhythm of your breathing, a quickened inhale, almost as if his words had finally affected you. he stops dead, dropping his hand from the door and turning around with a dark gleam in his eyes. 

“wait—wait,” his voice lowers with satisfaction, with the thrill of the chase. he lets out a breathy chuckle, his eyes roving the room as he zeroes in on where you’re hiding. “i can hear you, can hear you breathing.” 

he takes a slow, taunting step, his head tilting, as though he’s relishing the way you’re fighting to stay silent, to keep control. 

“what’s the matter? you sound a little…” he trails off in a murmur, enjoying the tables turning. “...shaken up. are you scared?”

your breath slips, just enough to betray you and his lips quirk up.

“i know exactly where you are.” with lazy confidence, he walks over to the far corner where the heavy velvet curtains seem to pool against the floor, drawn closed over the tall, narrow window. 

his fingers brush the fabric, his eyes narrowing as if he can feel the warmth of you just on the other side. then, in one smooth motion, he grabs the curtain and yanks it open. 

“caught you.”

moonlight spills in, illuminating you both. in a second, you’re pressed against the wall, lips parted, cheeks flushed, and his eyes rake over you, lingering on the way your costume accentuates every curve of your body. 

he steps in close, his silhouette blocking the light as he cages you in, one hand pressing against the wall beside your head, the other landing on your waist. his gaze drops to your lips, taking time to roam the way you’re biting your lip.

you tilt your chin up, “maybe i just like trouble.” 

rafe’s grip on your waist tightens in response, a hunger that he can’t hide, while he’s memorizing the way you’re looking up at him, ready to push him just as far as he can take it.

“you’re in trouble, alrigh’,” he shakes his head, while his hand inches down, slipping lower along your body until his thumb brushes against the curve of your hip, “don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”

your fingers slide up his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath the thin fabric of his black shirt, the way his heart hammers from your touch alone.

“maybe that’s what i want,” you whisper, tipping your head up so your lips brush against his mask.

he shudders, and you let your fingers trail slowly down, tracing over the line of his collarbone. rafe swallows hard, his body thrumming with tension. his eyes dropping to your mouth once again, wishing he’d been smart enough to take the mask off, so he could kiss you. 

“you don’t know what you’re asking for,” he breathes, but the glint in his eyes says otherwise. he’s already melting under your touch, the desperation in the way he holds onto you confessing just how badly he needs it.

“you want me?” you ask, watching his pupils dilate as you lean in even closer, close enough that he can smell the fruity trace of your drink on your breath trough the mask, the lingering sweetness making him light-headed.

 jesus fucking christ where have you been all his life?

“yeah,” he mutters, voice strained, eyes half-lidded as he stares down at you, “i want you.” his hand trails up your side, down the line of your dress, stopping just at the hem. he hesitates, holding himself back for your sake, the look in his eyes begging for permission, daring you to say something, to let him go further.

you smirk, letting your fingers slip lower, grazing over the top of his waistband, “’m already so wet for you.”

a rough, almost growling sound escapes his throat as his fingers taunt around you, his control slipping at the admission. “yeah?” he grunts, letting his hand glide under the hem of your dress, his fingers inching higher, grazing along the sensitive skin of your thigh, “lets find out.”

the first brush of his fingers against your thong sends a shiver from your head to your toes, his smirk growing. he’s bold now, unapologetic as he moves them up, grazing the thin barrier of fabric between his hand and you.

your panties are ruined, drenched, and stuck to you most uncomfortably, he can tell from the way you keep pushing your hips forward, begging him to do something. 

he doesn’t think twice before using two fingers to pull the sticky fabric to the side.

“fuck,” he mutters to himself, “all this for me?”

you have to bite your lip to stop a moan from slipping out when he finally touches you properly. two of his long, thick fingers press against your entrance, sliding into you with no resistance. the feeling of your cunt clamping around him makes his cock twitch. 

he works you open, even the slightest touches have you arching your back from the wall. the need in his eyes turns ravenous with every desperate little gasp you let out. he moves slowly, deliberately, feeling the warmth of you clenching around his him, as he curls his fingers just right, 

“you’re so wet, ah, yeah—you’re gonna scream for me?”

his thumb finds your clit with ease, and he presses down, drawing gentle circles that make your knees buckle. he grins, drinking in every sound you’re trying to bite back. his thumb stays steady over your clit, circling with the perfect rhythm, applying just enough pressure to keep you breathless.

“c’me here,” his other hand moves with swift, easy dominance, capturing your wrists and pinning them above your head, holding you firmly against the wall,” you like this shit?” 

“you’re gonna fuck me with the mask on?” you grind yourself harder against him, practically delusional from the way he’s making you feel, “kinky.”

he's mesmerized by the way your breasts jolt underneath your dress with each shaky breath you take, your skin feels feverish, heat radiating off it like a furnace.

“just like you wanted,” he promises, his voice filled with satisfaction as his thumb presses down harder, coaxing a soft whimper from your lips. “go on, let me hear it—ride my hand.”

he tightens his hold on your wrists, keeping you perfectly in place, not prying his eyes away from how your brows frow with every grind. 

“fuckkkkk, do that again,” you whine when he hits a particular spot, your walls tightening around him in a way that makes him want to stop the foreplay and fuck you right away.

rafe leans forward to coo praise into your ear, “like this?” your skin is sticky with sweat—some saliva too—his. he’s never been this fucking hard in his life. he slows down on purpose, to torture you, doing anything in his power to make you beg, “ooh look at you— a fuckin mess.” he taunts.

“don’t be an asshole,” you groan, fingers itching to be set free, and grab his shoulders so you can slam down on him harder, “you gotta make me cum if you wanna fuck me.”

he runs deep circles into your clit making you press your legs together, knowing that he's getting exactly what he wants makes him chuckle into your skin. by this point as he mindlessly humps against your writhing body, he’s peeking down, taking a moment to admire the mess of slickness between your thighs.

“you want more?” you’re so caught up in the feeling that you don’t notice his hand leaving yours, wrapping it around your neck, pulling you closer to him, “answer me”

“another finger,” you spit out when he tightens his grip on your neck, the added touch having you on the brink.

rafe doesn’t even look at you, too entranced by your mess to make eye contact. he never got so lost during sex, but your pussy’s making him intoxicated to the point where his senses are dull, and the part of him that’s fully aware is his dick. 

he’s not even inside you yet, and still, he can cum just from seeing you ride his fingers. “another?”

he groans at the way one of your hands move to flex over his, watching in amusement as you try to get him to add one more finger. he mutters a low, gruff “good girl” as he slides a third finger in, pressing just deep enough to make your legs tremble, since you asked so nicely.

“think you can handle more?” rafe prods, “you’re so tight, don’t think you can take me.”

the way his fingers work, methodical and relentless, leaves you barely able to breathe, let alone answer.

“i could take t-two of you,” you tease, letting a breath out, and turning your head to face him. god you wondered if he looked good under that mask, but if he was this good in bed, who fucking cared.

“the only thing you’re taking is this fucking costume off,” he grumbles against your shiny lips, fanning like a wild animal catching the scent of its prey. he’s already tugging at the material, pulling the straps to the side before you can, nudging it aside, “look at you. gotta get my hands on you.”

rafe moves his attention to your breast and squeezes firmly, the tips of his fingers clasping down on your nipple, pressing and pulling as he chases after those sweet sounds that leave your lips.

“look at these tits, fuck” he rasps, eyes trailing over your chest and savoring every inch, his breath almost a snarl, “this’ what you wanted?”

you pressed your lips to his neck, ignoring the deep rumble in his chest as you sucked marks into his flesh, nipping him less than gently. grunting at a particularly rough bite you landed just under his adam’s apple, “i wanted your cock not your finger—"

his pitches your nipple harder making you squirm, “watch your fuckin’ mouth.”

the way you’re creaming his hand should be illegal, but this man is clearly sent from above. someone finally listened to you and gave you exactly what you needed to survive your dry spell. 

you reach down to cup him up through his jeans, “or what?”

he moans, head dropping to your shoulder, “fuck,” he mutters, his tone conveying that he’s just as distracted, watching how your puffy folds glisten with your arousal.

“hmmm, can’t hear you ghostface.”

rafe’s too entranced to put you in your place, you’ve got him eating out the palm of your hand. the sounds of your pussy sucking in his fingers are obscene, the simple act of your hand grazing cock has his knees buckling.

he can feel his heart beating miles a minute and he swears he could die right there, his hand coming down to grip the swell of your ass, kneading it firmly. you sigh contently with every slow drag of his hand, your head falling on his shoulder, nipping at his neck no doubt marking him up again.

“open your mouth.” you lift your head immediately, no smartass bullshit coming out of your lips, he chuckles breathlessly at your impatience, fingers moving from your ass to your parted hole, “suck my fingers, go on.”

it’s hard to make any coherent thought when his fingers are still inside you, dragging against your spongy walls deliciously, but your tongue automatically slips around his digits, doing your best to suck them down your throat. you’d never felt so willing to let a man bend you however he wants to, hushed curses escaping your occupied mouth, raking your nails down his arm. 

“good girl, yeahhhh, that’s it,” he grunts when you prod his skin harder, “you like diggin’ your nails into me, like it rough, huh? ‘course you do,” he stammers out when you clamp harder around him, your slick making everything slippery, “course you fucking do.”

with his fingers buried deep inside you and your lips wrapped around his other hand, rafe’s fully intoxicated, drunker than he can ever get. the sounds you make, he never wanted to taste something so bad, if it wasn’t for his stupid mask—

“take this thing off—" he grinds his hips into you, the rough fabric of his jeans pressing deliciously against your bare skin, teasing you, while his hand leaves your mouth to do nothing else but rip your panties apart.

you let out a huff, glancing down at what’s left of your underwear as he tosses it aside like nothing, already sliding his back up your thigh, “you’re paying for those.”

“whatever you want.”

you’re already occupied with his stupid belt, fingers quickly working to take the damn thing off, pawing at him to help. it’s only then he leaves your pussy unattended, settling his hold on your hips while you fumble with his jeans, unbuttoning them and snapping them open, his bulge straining against the fabric of his boxers. 

he grabs the underside of your thigh, picking your leg up and wrapping it around his waist, backing you two further into the wall, eyes gazing into yours, even though you can’t see him. why the fuck do your eyes look so familiar?

the tip of his dick kisses the skin of your pussy, the firm head bumping against your clit as he rubs himself against you, “happy?”

looking down, you watch his cock slide back and forth between your thighs, the friction making heat slowly rise in your core, warmth swarming in your chest. he’s so fucking big. you watch him, eyes half-lidded, your legs aching from the position, almost drooling from the sight alone. 

you don’t know how much longer you can let him tease you.

“so happy,” you nod, not tearing your attention from him.

“yeah?” he cocks his head to the side, brows furrowed, concentrating not to cum on the spot with the way you’re eating his cock alive just with your pretty little eyes, “you’re gonna let a stranger fuck you?”

rafe reaches down, teasingly rubbing the tip of his dick over your folds, tracing it over your clit a few times. you look up, lips curling into the most earth-shattering smirk.“i can always find someone el—"

you both groan when he slides into you with no warning, your warm walls enveloping him perfectly, sucking him in like a vice, a perfect tight fit. he pumps you so full, not waiting for any adjustment, your walls fluttering around his girth, thick tip slightly curved up from your position.

“fuck, fuck, fuckkk,” he drawls out, rolling his hips in tight circles, slowly fucking into you, dragging himself along your walls to learn what you like, “this pussy, oh—so good.”

your head falls back against the wall, sighing in pleasure. you want him to let go and beat your walls loose, especially when he looks so good doing it. you melt into him, body sagging, downright losing it with how easily he holds you up and still pounds relentlessly into you, your breathing picking up with his change of pace. 

he’s so strong.

“this good enough for ya?” he murmurs against your ear, picking on the way your body shudders, a scream for anyone outside that door to hear, “hmm? you like my voice, right here?”

“you’re gonna make me cum,” you feel yourself grip him harder, his thick cock stretching you open, dragging out moan after moan from your lips, “oh my god.”

it’s the sweetest torture, the way his pelvis smacks against your tummy with every thrust, barely even pulling out to roll back into you.

“such a fuckin’ slut, aren’t you?” he growls, “letting a stranger fuck you open—holy shit, holy shit,” he hisses, almost as if he’s in pain, when you teasingly whine your hips back into him, fluttering at the low sound he breaths right by your ear.  “shit, you’re squeezing—fuck.”

“you’re so b-big,” you wheeze at a rough thrust, hand coming down to press against his lower stomach.

“yeah? good enough for you, huh?” his hips increase in rhythm, rocking into you, his thrusts precise, beating against your g-spot with vigor, “takin’ it so good baby.”

by now you’re seeing stars in your vision from the white-hot pleasure shooting up your spine, smart mouth forgotten, “harder.”

“harder?” he’s fucking into you at such a pace you feel like he’s gonna split you in half, “don’t think you can take it.”

“please.”

it sounds too pretty coming out of your mouth. having a girl like you beg feeds his ego like nothing else. 

he buries himself so deep, his pelvis is pressed hard against the hilt of your mound, fingers coming down to pinch and roll your neglected clit between his fingers.

“fucking take it then.” rafe snaps his hips with every word, glaring into your teary eyes. 

you gasp, nodding your head frantically, too fucked out to even use your words properly when he bottoms out properly, leaving you entirely only to slam inside harder than before. you squeal, not expecting him to use his entire body strength to almost fold in half while you’re still standing.

“no one can h-hear you down here, go ahead,” your mouth runs dry as you feel his body helplessly pressing into yours, “lemme hear those pretty noises, c’mon, scream f’me.”

you’ve never moaned so loud in your life, hands coming up to tweak your nipples, him filling you to the brim, “w-where the fuck have you b-been?”

he chuckles, though it comes out strained, “right here,” he makes a point by ramming into your g-spot perfectly, “hold your leg up f’me.”

for once in your life, you do as you’re told while focusing on his clothed stomach, feeling it constrict with every deep breath he takes. 

“you look so pretty like this,” you hear him praise you, one of his hands sliding down the span of your back, coming down to wrap around your hair and forcing your head up, “could fuck you for hours.”

the tip of his dick is kissing right against your cérvix, “not stopping you.”

“yeah? that’s how good is it?” he laughs, “can’t believe stranger cock does it for you.”

you open your mouth to speak, probably to give him shit about how he wouldn’t stop teasing you, but your words run dry as you feel the familiar sensation of his fingers playing with your overstimulated clit. motherfucker.

your body tenses as he builds up the pressure, and a strangled symphony of your wails leaves your sore throat. it’s too much and not enough at the same time, the pressure of his cock as well as his fingers, he’s quite literally fucking you dumb. 

“nothin’ to say now, huh?”

the better it feels, the farther gone you’re in your mind, “s-shut the fuck up.”

if you were with someone else, it would bother you that your tits are quite literally out while he’s still dressed, besides the jeans pooling by his ankles, but that stupid black wife beater looks mouthwatering on him. 

somehow the outfit and the mask add to the allure, not knowing who’s behind it, but still letting him treat you like a rag doll. you’re bouncing down onto him, almost sniffling as your pussy’s still twitching and soaking, so close to your well-deserved orgasm.

“cum inside,” your head’s starting to sting from how bad you need to cum,“please.”

rafe swears he almost falls on his ass, “what?”

“inside,” you grit out, eyes closed in bliss, “want to feel you cum inside.”

he lets out a groan at the way you say it, “are you serious? oh fuck, what a little cock-slut.” he can’t help but let out a chuckle at your fucked-out state, lost in the chase of your own pleasure to care about how pitiful you look right now, “you’re gonna cum around me? go on,” he coos, kneading at the flesh of your thighs.

you nod, slipping out a high-pitched ‘mhm’, knowing this shit is about to hit you like a train. you arch yourself into him, whimpering lewdly and cutting small moon crescents into his shoulders with your long nails.

rafe feels like he’s lost all ability to fuck anyone else but you, growling at the filthy thoughts swimming through his mind, the urge to fill you up with his cum getting stronger as he enjoys watching you. 

a strained whimper escapes you as you lean forward to bury your head in his shoulder, groaning against the skin, “don’t stop.”

“n-never stopping, c’mon,” you swear you see stars while he’s slipping out curses and praises that you’re not even sure make sense. “holy shit, yeahh, fuck.”

he applies a little more pressure to your clit and that’s all it takes for you to be gone, your chest touching his, blinding flashes of paradise filling your vision as you leave reality, having it ripped away from you. 

your mouth is parted in the most beautiful oh shape he’s ever witnessed. tears are streaking down your eyes and he can’t help but be turned on by them.

“oh! fuck, fucking—” you squeeze your eyes shut, having no idea how you pulled the words out between continuous sobs that escape from you.

rafe feels like a fucking creep, he can’t take his eyes off you for the life of him, hips snapping animalistically into your pussy while he grunts, groans, and cries as he talks you through it, “that’sss itt, so good, so fuckin’ perfect.”

he tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. 

he’s chasing his orgasm while he watches yours; he all but whines when he releases inside of you, not slowing down in the slightest as he makes sure you take every drop. his hand comes down on your stomach forcing you back down with his python grip, feeling his bulge right there makes his eyes roll as his hand tightens on your waist. you’re still clenching and spasming as you milk him dry, “fuckin’ take it.”

his hips don’t let up, grinding into your core despite him already finishing inside of you. for another ten minutes.

five minutes later, you’re both a little hazy from the endorphin rush, still processing. once he pulls away, rafe feels a lazy grin stretching across his face, feeling more satisfied than ever. unlike the past hour, the room isn’t filled with your moans, but complete silence as you both try to breathe like normal people again, collecting yourselves, adjusting clothes, and then there’s an unspoken agreement that maybe, it’s time to see who’s behind the masks.

you fumble with the edges of the fabric, hesitating for a moment before finally pulling them off, unveiling each other’s faces.

you freeze, staring at him in disbelief.

“you gotta be fucking kiddin’ me,” you nearly burn a hole through his head, eyes narrowing with pure annoyance as you process this disaster, voice dripping with irritation, “what the fuck? rafe?”

he’s completely still, staring at you with his mouth wide open, eyes wide like he’s just seen a ghost—everything you’re hurling at him is going in and out his ears. the realization that he just spent the last hour fucking you is making him dumber. the girl he’d been thinking about, dreaming about, wanting more than he’d ever admit, even to himself.

the anger in your eyes, the annoyed way you’re crossing your arms and glaring at him—it’s so perfectly you. he’s watched you in class a hundred times, always stealing glances when you weren’t looking or cursing his ass off, catching little glimpses of your attitude that only made him want you more. 

but he’d never thought he’d get a moment like this. 

bless halloween.

“are you even listening to me?” you snap, catching his starstruck expression, waving a hand in front of his face. “hello? earth to cameron? stop looking at me like a puppy, this was a mistake.”

more than a mistake. you can’t believe you just fucked the reason why you didn’t want to come to the party in the very first place. 

and the worst part is that you’d do it again.

“i…i just…wow,” he breathes, “it’s really you.” he lets out an incredulous laugh, rubbing a hand over his jaw “can’t believe it.”

you groan, rolling your eyes and shaking your head in exasperation. “are you serious right now?

“can i eat you out?”

you blink, realizing you’ve been staring, “what?”

he takes a step closer, filling the small space between you. you swear the sound of his next words drag a whimper from your throat, “can i eat you out?”

you nearly choke to death as his hand ghost near your waist, the barest brush of contact, sending sparks dancing across your skin, “right now?”

rafe leans down to your size, eager to get on his knees and taste you.

“why not?”

well, fucking damnit.

dont go fucking strangers with ghostface masks at random parties

[cowgirlvi]

mdni. ass tribbing. sub-bottom loser vi. fem-top reader. one night stand. riding vi’s ass prone bone.

vi masterlist

word count: 1.2k

loser!vi doesn’t get much pussy (surprise, surprise), so she’s not entirely aware of the procedures that lead up to sex, and she’s especially caught off guard when you roughly shove her onto your bed, yanking her pants down her legs in one swift motion. stuck on her stomach, her underwear follows in suit, and she’s suddenly laying there with her pale ass out, while you grope the round, muscular globes with painful squeezes. you’re rough and unrelenting, like a woman possessed, leaving red imprints on her skin.

flustered and out of her depth, vi asks, ”ohh, um—should i turn over?” she sounds so dumb and unsure; cutely innocent.

”just stay still for me, sweetheart,” you say, and vi obliges like an obedient dog.

you hum, satisfied, playing with her ass like a stress ball, shoving her ass cheeks together and then spreading them apart so you can admire both her tiny holes. vi stiffens and tries to hide, one hand weakly shielding her backside—and it’s a useless attempt at maintaining what little modesty she has left, because you can still see her large, engorged clit peaking out from her pussy lips.

she should relax, just sit tight and let you take the lead, because this is what she wanted out of her friday night—for a pretty girl to play with her. vi wasn’t subtle about it either; leaning against the bar an hour ago, round ass perked in the air and straining against her black jeans, looking like a teasing whore yet being surprisingly naive.

fuck, you knew straight away that you needed to rub your pussy against her ass.

you press sweet kisses to vi’s shoulder blades, down her back, over her ass, biting and sucking marks onto each individual cheek—and it makes vi’s pussy wetter, makes something ache and throb deep within her core—but that’s about as much patience as you can muster. you’ve waited long enough, forced to make boring small talk with vi at the bar, as if you both didn’t know you were gonna take her home and use her.

you gather saliva in your mouth before letting it dribble onto vi’s backside. with slow, deliberate circles, you rub your spit into her skin. her ass is impossibly soft—plush, warm and pliant beneath your fingers—and you know she’ll make a good fuckdoll.

“fuck, look at you, babe,” you say, and vi involuntarily whimpers—a sound so small, yet undeniably raw. she’s never been treated like this before, as if she’s a delicate little thing, some sort of all-consuming beaut. but she likes it—likes the way it makes her head feel cloudy, how her ears fill with static.

you press your bare, drenched cunt to vi’s right ass cheek—skin to skin, heat to heat—and it’s all happening so fucking fast, the way you start humping against her in long, firm strokes; how your swollen clit is pressed snug against the round muscle. and, embarrassingly enough, vi’s asscheek is glossy with your spit and arousal, making you suddenly aware of just how soaked your pussy has been all this time.

vi gasps at the sensation of your wet cunt—almost feeling scandalized at the realization that this is really happening. and, admittedly, she wishes you had a mirror in here, that way she could watch the way you’re humping your pussy against her ass, using her like she doesn’t matter, as if she’s only an object to you—which is degrading and humiliating, but a sick part of herself likes it.

you’re puffing hot breaths of air against her neck, moaning all sweetly and soft, and the juxtaposition is funny, because at the same time you’re clawing your nails into vi’s shoulders, holding her still so you can fuck your pussy against her just right.

your thrusts speed up expeditiously, pressing your breasts to her back. your movements become more purposeful, more controlled, but your hips stutter when you feel vi perking her ass up—trying to press against further you, to be closer to you, offering herself up for the taking without even realizing she’s doing it. it’s almost endearing, how desperate she is for you, despite the fact that her own cunt isn’t getting any relief this way.

vi’s trembling beneath you, white knuckles gripping the sheets, and you brush your lips against the shell of her ear, murmuring, “such a good girl. letting me use you like this.”

“nghh—uh-huh, y-yes—mmm,” vi tries to speak in agreement, but embarrassingly enough, all she can do is moan.

glancing down the strong line of the back, past her intricate tattoos, you can see the way her obscene bubble butt is jiggling each time you rut against her. fuck. it makes heat bloom in your stomach, it makes you hump against her with more ferocity. and vi’s gasping beneath you, trying to suppress the tiny, desperate sounds that slip past past her lips, but you can hear them anyway, can feel them vibrating through her body.

”ahhh, mmm, uhhh—“ vi’s whimpering, gurgling around the spit pooling in her mouth, while she tries to hump her own pussy against your bedsheets. she’s crying as she does, because with this angle she’s hardly getting any relief. all she can do is lay there, pitifully on her stomach, while you use her ass to get off.

“poor—haah—poor thing,” you coo satirically. you’re stuttering over your words, falling deeper into a fuckdrunk haze, moaning more unabashedly. “you wanna, mmph, feel good too, don’t you?”

you grit your teeth, rutting against her plush rear like a stray bitch in heat. it feels so good, so intense. you’re completely disoriented and dizzy, head swimming with it—and by god, you might actually be creaming against vi’s fat, round ass—which is sexy and humiliating all at once.

“god, you’re such a sweetheart. just take it… let me, ahh, use you. then i’ll take care of your pretty pussy,” you rasp, voice thick, almost slurred.

you’re so close, you’ve never come this quickly before and your vision is going blurry, eyes crossing. in the next moment, your eyes flutter shut, pleasure mounting, a wave cresting so fast you can barely brace for it. it’s too fast, too intensely powerful.

and somehow, vi can tell you’re about to orgasm, as if you have a telepathic connection, because she tenses her ass and rolls her hips back against you—just enough to push you over that final hurdle. 

you choke on your breath, pelvis stammering against vi’s butt, and then—fuck—you’re coming, slick and messy, leaking like a sieve against her skin. you’re moaning shamelessly, hissing through clenched teeth, but you’re too far gone to care how wrecked you sound, too lost in the intoxicating heat of it all.

vi shudders at the obscene wetness coating her skin, squeezing her thighs together, and you can feel the way she’s trying to hump her cunt against the bed with newfound desperation. she’s been such a good girl this entire time, so you know you should stop, should give her what she needs, but the aftershocks keep rolling through you, and you can’t—not yet.

your movements slow, but you keep rocking against her, dragging your oversensitive, swollen clit along the curve of her ass, riding out every last tremor. vi whines quietly, shifting beneath you, until the last few graces of your orgasm die out, and you’re collapsing against her back like a felled tree, heavy and unmovable, surrendering to the weight of your orgasm.

taglist: @marvelwomenarehot0 @marieeeluvsyou @mxchi-mxxn @el-amor-que-tu-quieres @jinxvex @teddybearbutch28 @nahcala @ellieslob @ruelezz @rhian88 @lotuxzzeri @usuck @thatgrlnany @urjnxedd @prettyprincess19 @vixxxxxxxen @jinxedbambi @dreamyraincloud @just4jinx @caninecutiez @shlutmeow @frillynpinkprincess @sapphvi @fawncritter @billiegabbysyd @f3ralpuppyg1rl @grlfraudsqz

(3/22/25)

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

Would you do something with either Eddie Munson or Miguel O’Hara either one where them and the reader have Morticia & Gomez Addams vibes?? Like he’s just so in love with her he doesn’t care what anyone thinks about him just drooling over everything she does.

a/n: ohh, gomez addams... light of my life... the man who's set all the standards...

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

“Oh, cara mia,” Miguel planted himself next to you on the fainting couch, “to see you like this… I feel as if I can’t breathe… and not in a good way…” plucking your hand up in his, he pleaded, “whatever can I do to get you out of these blues? Do you want to hold a seance? Could that help?”

“No…” you sighed, woe overflowing in your tone, “the moon unfortunately won’t be full for another week…”

“Shall I fetch you a goat to sacrifice?”

“No…” you once again echoed, letting your empty gaze flutter to the window where rain hammered against the panes. 

“How about I kidnap you some useless young man, chain him down in the basement and let you torture him however you please?”

“Oh, darling…” a flicker of light returned to your gaze as you found Miguel’s stare, “I do love coping with ennui in a creative manner… could you perhaps find one named Chad?”

“I’ll scour every inch of this earth till I find one for you,” he swiftly brought the back of your palm up to his lips in a fevered kiss, “there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make you happy.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[the-fiction-witch]

Sweetling

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Benjicot Blackwood Couple - Benjicot X Reader Reader - (OC) Lady Y/n Blackwood Rating - Cute AF! Word Count - 3280

Lady Y/n Bracken stood in her gown sword at her hip, on her side of the border shivering with fear and cold, she was only the lady of house Bracken for two days given Benjicot had killed four of her older brothers, she had gone out to patrol the border in the grey rain, but it had not gone well.

Benjicot continued to stalk towards his Prey, eyes locked on Y/n's shivering figure, his sword in hand, he could taste the sweat on her skin and hear her heart pounding, "Have you nothing to say, Bracken??" he shouted, a sly smile on his lips as the air crackled with the threat of action.

"...I... I don't know what I could that won't get me stabbed," she gulped sheepishly drawing her sword but immediately dropping it, so she grabbed it from the grass and mud holding the handle with both hands, the sword shaking the tip falling where the sword was too heavy for her as she tries to defend the border

"...You, a Lady... Wielding a sword?" he asked almost amused as he came closer, the smile on his face grew as he saw her hands shaking while holding the Blade, "That Blade is too large for you, you will cut your own head off, give it to me" He outstretched his hand awaiting the sword

"h-how do I know you won't use it to attack me?”

a scoff escaped his lips as he walked closer and closer to her, "Because I'm not a dishonourable Brute like your brothers, now give the damn sword to me" He took several more steps "Before I pry it from your hands myself"

she gulped moves and offered her sword as best she could making sure he didn't step over the border

He approached, taking the sword from her hands, her trembling sent a chill down his spine, not from the chill rain the two had been standing in, but from her shaking, her fear of him "You know, you are not as bad for a Bracken as I expected, you can be quite useless" He looked her up and down as he spoke

lady Y/n stood a whole head shorter than him, she was small and innocent, a little girl never expecting to be given power as a fifth child in the family, her hair heavy her curls obvious as they were soaked, her little orange dress around her too big for her and also wet sticking to her body, her belt for the sword tied in a knot as the belt itself was too long to buckle for her, a bow and arrows on her back but upside down

He watched her, his eyes following her frame. Her dress clung to her due to the rain, almost as if showing off the small curves of her soft body, for a moment he had to swallow hard as he looked at her, the thoughts running through his mind, he could easily see she was barely even a woman, the idea of just picking her up and taking her back to his home crossed his mind, his eyes went back to her belt, the knot in it and his lips pursed in frustration "Why is your belt tied like this?" He snapped

"ohh, it's too big for me, and I couldn't find anything to make a new belt hole so I just... Tied it"

he reached down grabbing the belt "Too big for you? What in Gods name were you expecting to accomplish with a giant-ass sword that's far too heavy for you and a belt that's too big to actually hold up the damn thing" He gave the end of the belt a tug, pulling her closer to him

she let out a little yelp as he grabbed the belt forcing her against his doublet the belt undoing in his hand the sword sheath falling in the mud "it uhh it was the only sword I could find..."

He chuckled, a little snort almost as he looked down at her, his hand still holding the end of the belt, holding her against him "Let me guess, it belonged to one of your fat, useless brothers?" his eyes slowly travelled down her small frame

she shook her head "no, they all were buried with them my lord Blackwood... Blacksmith says he can't make me one till next week"

he gave a scoff, pulling on the belt again, this time it was more of a gentle pull, her hips coming closer to his "Who would be stupid enough to give you a sword anyway, you look more like a child than a warrior" he said, his eyes moving to the bow strapped to her back, hung upside down and soaking wet he gave a huff, shaking his head. She was useless, and fragile, and more of a child than a Lady "What were you thinking? Trying to defend your lands all by yourself with no proper weapon for you and a piss poor technique, you're lucky I'm the man on the other side of this border right now"

"yes my lord Blackwood" she nodded very use to being scolded by her own family but now even their mortal enemy family was scolding her

he huffed again, his eyes running across her face, taking in her features, her soft, delicate skin, the way she would look while on top of him....his mind flashed through the thoughts, but he pushed them away, now was not the time for that. "And how did you expect to be able to wield a long-swords as heavy as your brothers when you're smaller and shorter than any of your own brothers? I could pick you up with one arm"

"I... I... I don't know...."

he huffed again, bringing a hand up to her chin, gently tilting her head up so he could look into her eyes "You don't know? Don't know that you're too short and small to be a fighter? Don't know how to wear your own damn belt?"

"I... I... I'm sorry, I just wanted to help... My brother's are gone, my little brother is still only a babe I don't know what else to do" she whined starting to cry

he could see the tears as they began to fall from her eyes, the pleading look in her eyes, his hand still on her chin. With a sigh, his expression softened, his hand slowly leaving her chin and coming up to wipe the tears from her cheek, his touch gentler than when he was scolding her moments before "By the Gods what am I to do with you, you soft little thing..." he pulled her even closer, her body pressed against his chest, his hands holding her in place, a soft look coming across his face "You can't keep doing things like this, you could've been killed. You're only lucky that I'm the one on the other side of this field right now..."

"yes lord blackwood"

his hands stayed resting on her hips, a comforting hold, his eyes scanning her face "You're a little thing…”

she nodded and gulped

he chuckled, the sight of her like this sent a thrill down his spine, she was small enough to fit in his lap, small enough for him to pick her up and do anything he wanted to her...he couldn't help himself from pulling her closer against him, his hands still holding her hips "You don't really expect to lead your house do you? You would get eaten alive"

she nodded tenderly resting her cheek against his doublet feeling comfort in Benjicot as she sniffled, She had lost her father, her mother in child birth, all four brothers and now was lady of her house she didn't know what to do or how to feel so she just nuzzled with him a moment enjoying his comfort even if he was the man who killed her father, and brothers and in her mind was likely going to kill her too

he felt her nuzzle softly against his chest, the feeling of her cheek against him made his heart flutter, she really was just a scared little thing. The thought of anyone being scared of her as a leader of a house made a scoff nearly escape his lips again. He felt an ache of pity "You're a scared little thing aren’t you?" he murmurs his fingers slowly rubbing her hips, his eyes looking down at her tiny body

she nodded

he looked down at her, his hand gently taking her chin and pulling her head back up to look at him. The look on her face, the pure fear and sadness in her eyes made his heart ache "I can already see that, Sweetling" he muttered, his voice going from harsh to softer. He couldn't imagine how scared she was, all alone at the head of a powerful house… for a moment he did have sympathy as he was made lord of house blackwood so young, having lost his father and brother ironically killed by her father, he felt sympathy for her, she had lost her father, her brothers, her mother, she had no family... just like him. He saw himself in her, and looking at her, so small and scared, it sent a different sort of thought into his mind. He wanted to protect her, to hold her in his arms to keep her safe. "You're all alone aren't you? No brothers left, no parents....No one left to take care of you" he asked quietly

"I have a little brother but he's only four moons"

he gave a nod, his fingers on her hip continuing to rub gently "Four moons old...Who is caring for him if you're out here, guarding the border by yourself?"

"The Nursemaids"

he gave a scoff. "Nurse maids caring for a baby lord of a house? A bastard could walk in and claim him as their own before anyone would take notice"

she nodded unsure what to really do

he looked down at her, her eyes still watery with scared tears. He felt a twinge in his heart as he saw how helpless she really was. He would never admit it, but he almost felt protective of her, this little girl in front of him "I could help you, Sweetling...If you want."

"hum? How?"

He tilted her chin once more, his eyes locked on hers "You need a protector, something to make sure no one can ever take you or your family from you again... And I need a wife. A proper Lady in my castle to strengthen the lines of my house"

she looked up at him green eyes wide as she gulped "but - but- but- I'm a bracken. Your a blackwood. Our families have been fighting and killing eachother for... Like... Sixteen centuries"

He chuckled, a gentle smile playing at his lips, "Sweetling I know that. You think that I, more than anyone don't know the history? I know all too well what our families have done to each other... I also know that we are currently talking in the middle of a boarder you were supposed to be guarding, with you being a Lady and me being a Lord..."

she glanced and noticed he was of course over the border "ohh... Fiddle sticks"

he chuckled, his hand resting on his hip as he looked down at her. She really was too adorable, he thought, a little thing like her trying to guard a border was almost laughable "Fiddle sticks? Really darling?"

"I'm not good at swear words..."

he laughed, a real genuine laugh "I can tell. Such a prim and proper Lady, a proper little lady of House Bracken" he gave a faux gag, his hand still tightly holding her hip against his His eyes slowly traveled down her frame again, from her big doe eyes to her soaking wet dress, now clinging to her tiny figure, showing off the small curves of her body... He had to admit it to himself, she was attractive no matter how soft and small she was He shook his head, he had to get his thoughts back on track, he was supposed to be trying to convince her to marry him, not just stare at her like a hungry wolf He gave a soft scoff to himself before looking back at her "There's no one else, is there, who can provide for you like I can? No other families to offer for you."

"... I... I guess so"

he smirked, her answer of 'I guess so' was almost cute, almost as if she didn't know what to say or how to respond. He gently tugged her closer, now so that her chest was almost pressed against his front. He really did tower over her. His hand, which was resting on her chin, slowly slid down her neck, his thumb gently resting under her chin "You're so small, Sweetling...so innocent"

"I guess... It's one of the few ways I can make sure I don't get killed by a blackwood, unless you get mad at me"

he chuckled, his hand now slowly tracing the line of her jaw, his hand on her hip pulling her right up against him, so that she could feel every contour of his chest through his clothes. Her head was barely above his stomach now, forcing her to have to look up at him "Get mad at you? What could you possibly do that would anger your future husband?"

"...burn porridge?"

he cackled, a low chuckle rising from deep in his chest, the thought of this small, soft lady trying to make him porridge and burning it almost made him choke on his own laugh "Really? You think burning my porridge would get me angry? Out of all things that could make me angry, you choose burning porridge?"

"...I'm also not good at porridge"

he chuckled again, his eyes still taking her in, looking down at her small form and the way her body reacted to his touch, the slight shiver as his fingers traced her skin "And you think that making me bad porridge would upset me? What else can you not do? What other skills do you lack, my sweet Sweetling?"

"... Most of them" she nodded

his hand was still on her jaw, his thumb slowly tracing her soft skin as he looked into her eyes "Most of them? You can't even list a few? You really can't do much, can you?" He said the words in a soft tone, almost as if he found it more cute than disappointing

she nodded

he chuckled again, pulling her just a little closer against him, their bodies so close they were almost flush against each other "My Gods you are useless aren't you? Can't defend a boarder, can't cook, can't do anything... What can you do, my little sweetling?"

"... I can sew. I can embroider. I can knit... I... I... That's all."

he hummed, looking down at her soft face "Sewing, embroidering, knitting... Of course, that's all your pretty little mind can think of. Nothing that would actually be useful I assume"

"no,"

he chuckled, his other arm coming around her to wrap around her small, delicate waist, his hands holding her so tight against his chest that she almost couldn't move "You really are a simple little darling, a soft little wife meant to look pretty and have my children..."

she giggled but stopped herself when she realized that's a bad thing

he frowned when she stopped her giggle, his hand on her waist giving a soft squeeze "Why did you stop? I thought that was adorable?"

"I realized you meant it as in insult"

he gave a scoff, shaking his head "An insult? No, I didn't mean it as an insult. You are soft and delicate, made to look pretty and have my children. Not really made for much more, are you my sweet Sweetling?"

"I guess not" she agreed "are.. we really to go through with this?"

he chuckled, pulling her even tighter against his chest, his hands on her waist and jaw holding her so that she was flush against his chest. Her small body against his was almost too arousing, her curves pressing against him through her dress "Did you really think I was joking, sweetling?"

"... I don't know, this could all be a lie to kidnap me to raventree hill, and kill me" he chuckled again, a deep, amused laugh rising from his chest. He was starting to like her, she was too cute to not like. Pulling her against him a little rougher than before, he looked down at her "Why would I lie, dear? You are far more valuable alive than you are dead, a sweet little bride to strengthen my house, a pretty little pet to warm my bed and give me sons"

"and... What if I'm not good at that either?"

he chuckled, a low hum rising from his throat. She really was a sweet thing, almost too adorable to not love "How could you possibly mess that up? It would all be so simple, just laying down and giving me some heirs. A Sweetling like you can manage that much, can't you, my sweetling?"

"I'll certainly try my lord"

he smiled, his hands still holding her small frame against his chest. Her body was so delicate, he could wrap his hands around her waist completely. He smirked a low scoff rising from his chest "You'll try. It's adorable that you even think there's room to not do it. You will give me heirs, darling, you're far too soft not to"

she nodded agreeing and as soon as she did benjicot picked her up in his arms and began to carry her over the border to take her home with him to Raventree Hall

he chuckled, the feeling of her small, light body in his arms was satisfying, she really was just a Sweetling, small and soft and so, so useless. He could do whatever he wanted to her, and no one would be able to say a thing, she was now his to use and shape into a proper Lady "There we go, darling. Time to go home with your betrothed" he continued carrying her bridal-style, every step making her little body bounce a little in his arms, forcing her to wrap her arms around his neck to keep herself upright. As they left the riverland behind, he gave a deep, satisfied laugh "Off to Raventree Hall we go, sweetling. Off to be my pretty little wife"

she giggled her dress thin and soaked from the rain letting him feel every last inch of her, as she jiggled with the bounces he walks

he felt every bounce and jiggle from her body in his arms, the feeling of her body against his as she held onto his neck and her thin dress sticking to her body almost made him want to pin her on the ground right then and there and make her his right now "You really are a soft, fragile thing aren't you, my sweetling? You wouldn't last a moment on the field"

"I doubt think so" she agreed

he chuckled again, readjusting his hold on her to pull her closer against his chest, her body flush with his. The feeling of her curvy little body was so satisfying, so perfect against him "You're such an adorable thing, my Sweetling. So much more useful in a bed than on the battlefield, don't you think, sweetling?"

she nodded nuzzling his neck "hummm hubby"

he gave a deep humm as he felt her nuzzling into his neck, her little face almost adorable against the soft skin of his neck "Hubby? Is that what you're going to call me, sweetling? You are such a sweet little thing, aren't you?"

"is that okay?"

he chuckled, still walking and carrying her as he nodded "More than okay, sweetling. Sweet little thing like you, calling me hubby, how adorable. You're almost too little to be real"

[pinkaditty]

HI i love your works sm ,,, and i really love the way you write it just brings out soemtnhign in me ,,, but hear me out on leo kurosagi angst where leo keeps insulting pc and pc just took it well until he said something sensitive (maybe sth ab the way she eats? or sth abt her face etc etc) and hurt pc's feelings and he didnt feel bad when pc cried , but when he saw pc going over to sho and sho giving him dirty looks he feels remorseful but he didnt want his pride to crack so he blamed pc , and then when pc started avouding him he started mocking her but in the inside it hurt him and his pride slightly , afterwards he found out he actually has genuine feelings for pc but denies it , until he found out pc is now his bff's gf WOW i NEED him humbled 🤗🤗🤗

Pavlov's Ghoul (Leo Kurosagi x Reader x Sho Haizono; Tokyo Debunker)

hey anon this existing is UR FAULT. (ilysm ty 4 the idea) and i hope u don't mind that I added my own little twist 2 it... hehe! even if u didn't expect me 2 write anything u can't drop a fresh, juicy steak of an idea like this and expect me not 2 salivate and tear it 2 shreds via writing it out.

OMG also TYYYYYYY IM SOSO GLAD U LIKE MY WRITING YIPPEE!!!!!!!!! i hope this is up 2 ur standards anon

a/n: why does this exist? blame anon and my inner need 4 a bitchy boy 2 be humbled amen! also i feel like i've completed my tokyo debunker rite of passage... ive finally written leo angst... nirvana at last.

summary: leo gets fuckin pavloved LMAO! considered calling this "ecstasy" or something bc of the pill line but ohh my god "pavlov's ghoul" hit too hard i fear.

cw: this isn't dark imo but be warned as this is just a little bit crazy, the most insane kind of yearning ive ever written maybe. implied sexual encounters, multiple sexual innuendos, and some odd behavior. MINORS DNI AS PER USUALLLLLL!

Looking for Part 2? Click here!

Sho's kind, reasonably so. Leo knows this. Sho also has an infinite store of deeply repressed anger. Leo also knows this. It's the reason he's in Vagastrom, after all. A deep, roiling anger that seems to eat at him if he doesn't have an appropriate outlet to balance his mood. That's why he's such a good cook, why he's so good at fighting, why he's got an excellent sense of balance and rides his bike smoother than anyone else he knew. He's using these things as outlets for his anger. It's not Leo's fault that the occasional outing to trick and deceive another sexually repressed rich old man for money is something else Sho seems to derive stress relief from. And it's not Leo's fault that Sho continues to stick around with him after those jobs are done. It's never been a problem for either of them, as far as he can tell. At least, there were no problems until Little Miss Inspector showed up.

Suddenly, Sho didn't want to lie anymore. Suddenly, Sho wanted to go as far as to address you with the proper honorifics, ask for your help with setting up his food truck, and even generally spend time with you outside of that. And for what? Some trembling, scared, pathetic girl that knew nothing of the world of anomalies prior to her curse? Some girl doomed to "die" in less than one year, no less? He couldn't understand the kindness Sho showed you. It made no sense, nor any difference. You'd be dead soon, so what did it matter?

It's got to the point where he's begun to randomly put you down with petty insults and biting remarks. They usually consist of things like "Oh my god, even preschoolers know Anomalous Biological Basics! Come on Inspector, is your head screwed on right? Not even the Captain is this stupid." or "You remember your ability is useless when we need it, right? You'd be nothing more than a burden on missions if you can't even control this power. " or even "God, you're such a basic loser. Can't you find something else to do with your free time instead hang around Sho like a lovesick puppy? You're starting to look like that dog that's always around Kagami." and worse insults. He gets the occasional sidelong disapproving glance from Alan or even a slight furrowed brow from Sho, but it didn't matter to Leo. So long as he could slowly plant seeds of doubt in his fellow ghouls and put you down to satisfy his ego, even an odd look was negligible.

He couldn't even stand looking at you. The uniform they'd chosen for you was awful, didn't even highlight your curves. He hated the way you styled your hair, and always thought he could totally do it better. The way you seemed so relaxed around other ghouls pissed him off, why couldn't he be good company? He found you repulsive, unable to resist glaring at you from the corner of his eye whenever he could. He had to get rid of you somehow. He would never admit to feeling threatened by you; instead choosing to focus all that energy into believing you were simply throwing a wrench into his plans to live an easy, get-away-with-anything university life.

It's all come to a head today. Leo thinks he's had enough of seeing you at the food truck after hours, chatting it up with Sho. It's like he can't even catch this guy alone anymore. Before he knows it, he's made a beeline for the truck. His brand new shoes scuff on the brick path in his rush, and eventually begin to stain green on the grass, his brisk stride tearing through the verdant lawn. He tries not to let his anger show on his face, but it's evident in his posture and pace. He forcefully sidles himself into the conversation, leaning on the service counter next to you, not even waiting for you to finish speaking before he pipes up. "Wow, here again, huh? And here I thought a basic bitch like you would know her place! That mouth of yours must be good for something if he keeps a chatterbox like you around."

The chill settles into the air almost immediately despite his candid tone and relaxed, smug smile. He's so focused on your reaction that he hardly notices the look Sho gives him, twisted with displeasure and confusion. He watches as you visibly falter, your lopsided smile fading into a barely-there frown. He stares, unrepentant, laughing internally. This was the reaction he wanted.

He turns towards Sho and raises an eyebrow at his look. "What? She can take it." Sho's expression visibly wavers, and Leo fully expects him to back down, as he usually does. But instead, Sho turns to you and his face grows pale. Leo rolls his eyes, assuming Sho is totally overreacting, and turns to you. He stiffens at your visible tears. Okay, totally not what he expected, but come on. This was the insult that made you cry?

Leo notices Sho is at your side in record speed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and gently drawing your hunched form away, giving Leo a harsh look. Leo simply scoffs. As far as he was concerned, your reaction was pathetic. It wasn't going to stop him from having any fun.

This. Under no circumstances should this hurt. At all.

Leo had noticed you'd been avoiding him. You would slink away if he so much as entered the same room as you. You wouldn't look him in the eyes if he approached, keeping your expression impassive. Sometimes you'd just outright ignore him. It was beginning to become a bit of a nuisance. He couldn't properly mock you if you weren't there to witness it happening, or didn't give him the reaction he wanted. It was odd. When he faced these feelings head-on, it almost felt like he wanted your attention somehow, even if he didn't quite want it to feel like that. A nagging feeling told him that maybe he went too far with his latest insult. He didn't want to admit that, but something told him he did. It was in the way both you and Sho acted around him.

Sho was missing a lot of Leo's calls lately, sometimes not even bothering to call back. Leo partially understood, what with the food truck business booming and all, but he didn't appreciate being made to wait for his own best friend who's usually at his beck and call. Not to mention the flat, terse responses he would get from Sho more often than not nowadays. Leo knew Sho was miffed with him from last week's incident, but as far as Leo was concerned, things still ended in his favor. He hadn't seen you around Sho much anymore, which means he could go back to how things were. No more pesky little honor student to reign upon his days any longer! Sure, there was the biting underlying feeling that maybe he'd screwed things up, but one ride on the back of Sho's motorcycle, going wherever Leo wanted as per usual, and he was living the dream again. No way everything would change over a silly, insignificant insult.

For a short while, he begins to get bolder, openly mocking you when he does come across you. His originally surface-level remarks become rather personal, even using your eventual death as a way to tease you. From "You know, I'm surprised you haven't done anything to change up that unflattering look, considering you're dying soon. Ever considered dressing up a little? You might get some attention before you die." to "Hey, Little Miss Inspector! With the number of men you talk to around campus, I'm surprised nobody's written you off as a whore yet!", and worse, of course. He continues to get no such reaction out of you, and it frustrates him to no end. Why couldn't you just frown? Shrink away? Or even retort something just as scathing back to him? Your lack of entertainment towards his endless ridicule reduced his motivation, and slowly, it ended up dying off. Soon, he left you alone altogether, not talking to you unless necessary, mimicking your actions. In a way, some part of him hopes maybe this will be what gets your attention. Even if he can't quite admit to himself that your attention, regardless of whether it's positive or negative, is what he wants.

It's late, but Vagastrom students don't go to bed until far later. And Leo needs a favor.

His crushing lack of success in garnering any sort of attention or reaction or rise from you had driven him to a point. He didn't want to apologize to you or anything, but this new habit of you ignoring him was beginning to stoke his displeasure. In his pondering, he remembered how easily Sho captured your gaze and wondered if maybe he'd have any idea of what Leo could do to at least put an end to this stalemate.

Leo's reluctance shows in the way he drags his feet on the path to Sho's room, less than eager to confront him for his opinion on something so shamelessly trivial. Why was he wasting his time with this anyway? Surprisingly, the lack of a solid answer to that question did not stop his trek. A twinge in his chest told him he knew exactly why he was "wasting his time".

In the month it had been since he'd made you cry, the nagging feeling had only gotten harsher. His mind kept flickering back to the shock of your tears and how he'd not bothered to consider it much further. An uncomfortable guilt had made itself known starting then. He never really expected you to cry; he just wanted a mild reaction. He wanted your eyes on him, flashing with anger, just for a moment. Your ire was a saccharine pill laced with ecstasy that he'd gladly crush with his teeth to speed up his high. Maybe it'd be too much to say he got off on it, but he enjoyed the way you used to roll your eyes at any comments from him a little more than he cared to admit. Now, he wouldn't even get that. It'd be rare for you to so much as make fleeting eye contact with him, not that something as small as that would be enough for Leo. Part of him was willing to accept that maybe, he'd gone too far. Maybe. But how else was he supposed to monopolize your attention when you give that out so freely? To his best friend, even?

He didn't know it was possible to covet something so terribly. He found himself wondering why he couldn't catch your attention in the same way as the other ghouls? In his quest for the same attention you gave so freely to the kinder, softer ghouls, he found another version of your attention. It was negative, but it was attention nonetheless. Your sweet, honeyed rage seemed to fill his cravings and then some, so he continued to devour it under the guise of "chasing you away" or "putting you down" or "satisfying his ego". In truth, for whatever reason, there was a rather bothersome and persistent envious longing, a covet, for your attention. Leo wants to vomit. A part of him denies it still, pushing his needless feelings to the back of his brain. He had something to do, and he ought to focus on that. What good would mere wallowing do?

He makes it to Sho's room and almost considers turning back. He stares at the door, his expression morphing into a complicated look. He shifted his feet, his slippers sliding against the floor. It was quite clear he really did not want to do this. At all. He sighs and grumbles indignantly, putting his head in his hands in an attempt to gather some courage. This couldn't be that hard, right? Just in, ask Sho a question, get an answer, then out. The only reason this was easier said than done was just because it could potentially show Leo was capable of feeling remorse, which would make this conversation leagues harder than it needed to be. He shakes his head and straightens up, preparing to knock, when he notices something.

Sho's room was... unusually quiet. Usually, Leo almost always heard some loud music or a cooking show running in the background, but he couldn't hear anything this time. Sho couldn't possibly be asleep. As late as it was, the only person who Leo knew for a fact could stay up past him was Sho, regardless of how much sleep he had gotten. There was no chance Sho was asleep. Believe it or not, Leo doesn't like to spy on Sho. But curiosity overwhelms him. What could he possibly be doing that would render the whole room in silence?

"Haxs," he whispers, listening closely.

The first thing he hears is the cling-clanging of Alan hard at work on a car in the garage. Not the sound he was meant to be focusing on. Then he hears endless jeering and loud insults shouted, though they're all muffled like they're underground. Another pit fight? Still, not the sound he's looking for. He sifts through the sounds he hears before he settles on the one coming directly from Sho's room.

Voices. Groaning, strained voices. The sound of wet skin against wet skin. Panting. Sho's panting, specifically. He could tell by the slight nasally tone of it.

Leo felt his face gradually warm. Christ, of course it'd be this he'd be up to. Leo muffles a laugh into the collar of his pajamas, keeping his hand clamped over his mouth as his body shook with mirth. When he finally calms down, he slinks off to the corner down the hall, and hides himself there, shamelessly still listening to it. Sho's a sly dog. Leo certainly didn't expect him to be getting up to anything this soon. He leans his body against the wall, crossing his arms and drumming his fingers on his arm, waiting for Sho to finish. He smirks to himself, as though enjoying the vocal show.

...

He had to admit, whoever he was with had gorgeous moans. He'd have to ask Sho if he'd be willing to pass this girl's number. He could use a couple things to get his mind off of you.

...

Okay, he had to stop listening to this now. He lifts his stigma and holds his hands over his ears for good measure, partially trying to hide the furious red blush across his face. As pretty as that girl's moans were, he was not going to listen to his best friend's climax. No thanks. He huffs out an impatient breath as his cheeks cool down, leaning his back against the wall, leaning his head back until it hit the wall with a dull thump. Now he just had to wait it out. He knew damn well Sho would never let a girl stay over. He'd never hear the end of it from yours truly, Leo.

Leo's right. It isn't long before he hears the door to Sho's room click, and hears murmured voices travel down the hall. He smirks, rushing down the hall in the opposite way, so it doesn't look like he was listening the whole time. He listens, waiting for a cue of some sort.

"Shame you have to go, you know." Sho's voice. Laced with relief, pleasure, and a thick tiredness. Leo's skin crawled. He could practically feel the smile in Sho's voice.

"It's not so bad." The girl responded with a light and playful tone, her voice seemingly much more put together than Sho's despite all that moaning. The voice sounded oddly familiar, but Leo brushed it off. Must be someone he shares classes with. "I've got things to do anyway. But it was nice to spend some time with you, Sho." Eagh. Leo internally hopes this girl isn't the type to get easily attached.

"...Yeah. Same to you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Finally, he heard the girl's footsteps trailing down the hall, heading in his direction. Leo hurriedly pulls his phone out of his pocket, making sure the screen was bright as he flipped through the latest trends. He made a point of not looking up until he heard the footsteps nearing him.

He looks up, prepared for a simple glance, but ends up being rooted to the spot.

It was you. Of course, it was you. Who else would be taunting enough?

Despite himself, his gaze remains glued to you, his head turning as you walk past him. For a moment, Leo thinks you're just going to ignore him again. Then, suddenly, your gaze meets his in a flash, and he stiffens, almost out of fear. The way your eyebrows crease and the way your lips twitch downward almost makes him salivate. You were clearly displeased to see him. Even so, he notices you don't slow down, continuing your way down the hall, not bothering to crane your neck to look at him.

Leo remains rooted to the spot, watching your figure as you leave. His jaw hangs open slightly, his chest heaving with shocked breaths. His eyes are wide open, pools of gold reflecting your retreating form. His hand trembles as he holds his phone, the latest trends left neglected in the wake of a single mean-spirited glance from you. He feels his heart pound mercilessly in his chest, as though confirming what he'd tried so desperately to deny.

All at once, anger and arousal seem to grip him simultaneously. Anger at himself for feeling arousal from a mere negative glance from you. He couldn't possibly have craved your attention so viscerally he'd happily accept mere scraps. And yet here he was, a lap dog, watching you as you leave as though silently begging for another glance, another chance to watch your eyes burn with that familiar, delicious anger, another meal to satisfy his starved heart.

For a moment, he would have gladly followed you, and pestered you to death, just to irk you and become a willing victim of your wrath. Anything... just for that attention.

a/n: wow. no stop why am i kind of in shock at the poetic lines i kinda think i did a great job! but 4 whatever reason it's always the writing i think was total shit that does actual numbers *sob*

aghhhh in any case. no i don't have an excuse 4 this. my requests are still technically closed. i just... couldn't help myself... so consider this a freebie. regardless though if u like my writing feel free 2 fill the fuck out of my inbox idnc i love hearing from y'all.

also TUMBLR KEEPS TURNING OFF MY REBLOGS!!!! GRAH!!!!!! tumblr hates me y'all they keep catching on2 me 4 writing porn :( so please if u really wanna show appreciation and tumblr won't let u reblog, leave a comment! those make me happy :)

anyways. usual note that i adore likes, comments, and tagged reblogs!! please tell me how much you like my writing, i love to hear it and it keeps me going! until next timeeeeeeee!

EDIT: I FORGOTTT QUICK EXPLAINATION: im assuming everyone knows pavlov's dog and the whole classical conditioning theory. this story is basically that mixed with the mere-exposure effect.

neutral stimulus: mc's presence

natural response: leo's arousal/excitement

response-producing stimulus: mc's anger

mere-exposure effect: psychological effect in which a like or dislike of things is developed merely due 2 familiarity.

[rieamena]

Y/N: Hey, hey Billy, y'know what'd be fun?

Billy: Ohh! What? What?!

Y/N: Us kissing

He has to reboot lmao

bonus points if nicole and anby are there!!!

you walk up to the trio, bustling with conversation, eyes focused on billy. today was going to be the day. anby is the first one who notices you, "oh, its [name]." she points at your approaching figure and billy goes haywire. "[name]!!! uhhh uhhh..." he fills the air with useless words as he fixes his appearance (especially his hair) with the pocket mirror nicole put in front of him immediately after anby noticed you. you waved your hand in front of billy's face, who was caught in a trance by you, "hey..., hey billy! y'know what'd be fun?" he perked up, feeling all the nervousness at your close proximity leaving his body. "ohh! what? what?!" "us kissing." you shot him a wink, face dropping when you saw billy's body lean back, further, and further, until a crash was heard. "oh my god?! billy?!" "relax..., he's fine. just needs to reboot. anby, could you—" nicole stopped talking, looking at you up and down before smirking, "actually, [name], can you take billy to the rest area?" "i'm on it!"

anby and nicole sighed as they watched you struggle to carry billy's body to the rest area, he is made of metal after all.

"wow nicole, at this rate, billy might get a girlfriend before you."

"don't wish such things on me!"

----

UGHHH THEYRE SO CUTE!!!!!!

[ppixienous]

YOUR BIGGEST FAN, joe burrow

pairings ➸ onlyfans!joe burrow x roommate!reader

warnings ➸ au, sex working, mentions of twitter, light smut, joe being a bit of a perv (?), roommate!reader's nickname is angel, joe with another woman (spookyyy).

a/n ➸ pleaseeee realize and understand that this a AU (alternative universe) where joe is a OF star, this fictional work has nothing to do with how joe acts and/or does irl. so please don’t start 😭 i just thought this would be cute and fun to write (which it was !) bon appetit! let me know if you would like to be tagged on future works! (ohh and much love to @raveszn for fueling my writing juices! MUAH!)

tags ➸ @raveszn

✮ onlyfans!joe who just happened to be bored and curious one day, and wondered what it was like to have an active onlyfans. 

✮ onlyfans!joe got a rush from the attention his first video received, quickly blowing up to a trending topic on of.

✮ onlyfans!joe who never once showed his face in that (or any) video(s), but people couldn’t get enough of him. besides maybe 2 or 3 videos, he was normally by himself. his fans love how intimate his videos are, how desperate he sounds asking “can i cum?”, and how gorgeous his sweat-soaked body looked underneath the warm pink lights.

✮ onlyfans!joe who can’t help but to imagine his pretty roommate everytime he pleases himself on and off camera.  

✮ onlyfans!joe whose mind is his greatest enemy (and biggest supporter) when it came to his roommate. “good morning, joey,” angel says sweetly with a smiling painting her face. 

“good morning, angel,” his eyes lazily ran along her body. the curve of her ass going into the dip of her legs. the things he would do to have those legs wrapped around his head. the cold air surrounding the kitchen causing her nipples to poke through her already thin shirt met his eyes. 

✮ onlyfans!joe who imagined what it would be like if his tongue ran against her nipples. what it would be like when he sucked against them, his lips wrapping on top of her skin. what it would be like having her sweet moans captured on his camera. 

✮ onlyfans!joe who slipped up one night during a shoot and muttered angel’s name as one hand slid over his tip and the other occupied his mouth, his teeth biting down on his finger, so he wouldn’t wake her. 

✮ onlyfans!joe who smiled down at his phone seeing the love and praise he got from his biggest supporter, swxxtangel. there was something quite familiar and warm about this supporter. they’ve only conversed through chats and comments, though never seeing each other over the phone, joe enjoyed every little interaction he had with her. 

✮ onlyfans!joe who didn’t know his favorite supporter was the same exact person that lived 10 steps down from his door. 

weeks ago, angel tossed and turned in her bed, unable to get her usual midday nap. her mind kept replaying her memory of joe earlier in the day. fresh out the shower, damp hair clinging to the bottom of his forehead, a white linen towel hanging dangerously low off of his hips. that same towel hugging the silhouette of his dick. the more he walked, the more his towel shifted down, she felt. 

she’s scrolled on tiktok, watched mindless reality tv, attempted to do push ups (with no athletic bone in her body), even reading a toji fic on tumblr (that was useless, it just made her hornier). 

angel whined as her clit throbbed against her pink cotton panties. her fingers found a their way to twitter, an app she swore to give up for good. scrolling and scrolling, she felt like she couldn’t find any good videos. irksome moaning, painful looking sex, and just downright sloppy (and not in the good way). starting to feel like her attempts were futile, one last swipe she stumbled upon a video of a couple.

their room looks so familiar. odd…

their bodies meshed together almost perfectly, almost. the man kept his palms on the cusp of the woman’s ass as he brought her up and slowly brought her down. you could hear small noises of them kissing, him humming against her lips as her moans bounced off the walls of the room. “i feel you baby. give it all to me, cum on my dick.”

her body shook against his body as he slid his hands around her waist, holding her close, “i got you baby, i got you.” as the same time as the woman, angel came undone. her breathing uneven as she pulled her hand out of her panties, softly grazing the wet spot she left in them. the way the man spoke to and fucked the woman had angel imaging that it was her. the couple kissed once more in the video, content with what they created. angel’s eyes fluttering, she wished that it was her lips and body against his own. there was something about him…

✮ onlyfans!joe who heard angel’s soft moans from the living room. he felt like such a perv stroking his cock to it, but to him it was like music to his ears. he couldn’t help but imagine what she was doing to herself. he didn’t hear a soft buzz come from her room, so he knew it wasn’t her rose toy she kept tucked away in her bottom drawer. oh how he wished it was his fingers circling her clit instead of hers.

✮ onlyfans!joe who quickly got himself together after hearing her door slowly creak open. he didn’t get to finish before she opened her door, he was left with a hard dick that painfully poked against his sweats, a pillow on top of it and his heart beating outside of his chest. angel, with the smile that drove joe insane, walked out and decided to sit next to him, unbeknownst to what was underneath the decorative pillow. “i thought you would be taking a nap by now,” joe breathed out, the heaviness of his balls and her tight tank top leaving nothing to the imagination driving him insane.

angel shrugged and looked at him, “guess i’m not tired anymore, joey. let’s watch a movie, hmm?”

✮ onlyfans!joe who knew that one day or the other angel was going to be his.

[mellohd]

heres some practice harry sketches i took the pics with my sony cybershot im so giddy rn

so far here are my thoeries SPOILERS!!

I originally thought that harry killed his wife or something because i got spoiled a bit on the series but it turns out thats a diff guy(which i only found out after finding some really cute fanart where they were next to eachother and i was like oh)

I think Harry and his daughter were chosen by this devil worshipping cult (samael mentioned) for something. I think cheryll died maybe(the tape mentioning a child and a fever etc) and is trapped in that hell but im not sure about that.(before i was like 100% he killed his wife and burried in repressed memory and cheryll died at some point BOOM im so smart but then yea i saw that he wasn't blonde guy)

Harry keeps flipping between two worlds, one limbo type one and industrial hell with all the grates and rust. almost like flipping between living and dead world. I say dead because that nurse is 1000% dead I suspected it before i looked up a ref for harry and saw a meme about it and that spoiled she was dead. she was all like "I feel i should not leaveeeee... im so cold harry........." and then i went back in the room and she was gone SUSPICIOUS!

Im really excited to see if cheryll is actually living or not because shes REAAALLY suspicious and alsoo this place is messing with Harry's head, whenever he goes into hell hill hes all like i hear sirens there its like a dream. Like, maybe she died in the car crash or of an illness, or maybe in an accident at work(thats a stretch but the grates rust and windmills is really stumping me! also the tiny babies running around him at the school and stuff allll so interesting) OH OH OR MAYBE CHERYLL NEVER LIVED IN THE FIRST PLACE? DIED AS A BABY? thats why those freindly fetus's were doing 360s around harry??

OH or maybe cheryll died at the car crash and theyre using her soul as leverage in silent hell mode to get harry to do something? AHH SO MANY POSSIBILITIES SO EXCITED!!! I also think that harry is supposed to be the one that maybe guides everyone out of silent hill or save it or whatever. I mean thats kind of obvious with how dahlia speaks I KNOW i just find her comparing him to the hermit and thats the path he needs to follow the hermits path. the hermit, to my knowledge is associated with a lonely man who completed his journey and lends a guiding light to the poeple that are still climbing the summit, i think theres more to it than that in comparison to henry(and also the card itself can be interepreted in many ways) but i haven't thought TOOO much about it yet I just find the camparison reaallllyyyy interesting OHH OH FOLLOW THE HERMITS PATH NOT DIRECTLY CALLING HIM THE HERMIT so he needs to complete his journey to help save the others, maybe healing from trauma of some kind?(CHERYLS DEATHHHH?????)

also interesting thing i noticed when we saw her tied up on the computer screens was it looked like, at what i thought at first was a map, but looks like sigils? They line up pretty well with a sigil grid, the circles reminded me of the starter points but i think im just making useless connections(even tho there do seems to be themes relating to witchcraft & the occult?) JUST SOMETHING I NOTICED also YES I KNOW his daughter is the protaganist in another game doesnt mean that something supernatural and weird and deathy didn't happen to her smh EEEEEEEK SO EXCITED TO FINISH THE GAME!!! IM ON THE WAY TO THE LAKE RN!

[overmystars]

My first time playing Until Dawn I was 100% certain that in episode 7 Emily would stumble across Jess and the girlies would have to survive the mines together, while working through some tough feelings... ...or they'd argue so loud that they'd be found within 5 minutes! ahh, player choice!

(long) rambles on this concept below!

UGHHH JUST IMAGINE, IT COULD HAVE BEEN SO COOL!!! Okay okay so you find Jess, and ofc we can all imagine how that initial surprise would go. I named this piece "oh girl you're joking" ...so. (/silly)

The choices here intrigue me so much!! Instead of a lot of silent roaming around, this section would be very choice-heavy. Their immediate reaction to each other is "why of all people is it you I found down here". You'd get the option to either complain or question to start off with. Complaining...

Emily: God, as if my night wasn't already shitty enough! I can't believe, out of everyone, I ran into the useless whore. Jess: Ohh, you're one to talk, bitch. Y-you think you've had a shitty night? ...You've- you've got a smudge of blood on your cheek. Look at me! You're seriously complaining right now!? You petty asshole...

From here your options will be to either continue pushing and elevating things, or, with the right choices made, begin to actually talk to each other.

If you keep making them fight, eventually they'll get into a full on screaming match. Jess looks like she's about to topple over from how much energy it's taking just to stay conscious with her wounds and be this outraged. Going this route will alert Handigo to all the commotion, who'll show up early and probably definitely kill at least Jess, if not Emily too (maybe qte section there...)

If you go the other route, and aren't so completely hostile.....

Emily: Holy shit... ...What the fuck happened to you? Jess: ...

Maybe you'd have to prompt a few times, and the "silent treatment" is kinda what can prompt Emily to start accusing. I think Jess would be in much more of a quiet daze in this direction, since she isn't immediately being verbally attacked.

Your options would be "annoyed" or "uneasy" Annoyed will have Em like, snapping her fingers, waving in Jess' face, being a jerk. Uneasy will have Em gently shake Jess' shoulder.

Jess: Some kind... ...monster... Emily: God, Jess, speak up I can't- Jess: There's something- there's this- cre-creature and... it... it had me...

Naturally even if you do start off questioning and gentler, there is still plenty of opportunities to start fighting. Should they only begin arguing later, Handigo can still show up but won't immediately be on top of them. Then, of course, there will be don't moves and qtes... and a handful of opportunities to abandon Jess 🤭 however, if you make all the right choices while escaping and are fast enough, it is possible to get both girls to safety. They'll still fucking hate each other though lol

Ideally, the conversation will be kept mostly (uncomfortably) civil... enough to where they don't stop in their tracks to argue. It won't be pleasant but it isn't a dispute. They can move on together and, granted things aren't openly hostile between the two, they can start to talk. Side note but I kind of love the idea of Jess being the one to initiate this, especially if she's more reserved and quiet going this route.

Jess: ...Em? Emily: What. Jess: I um, ...Thank you for taking me with you. Emily: *scoff* Well, you might think I'm heartless, but I'm not going to leave you to die down here. Jess: I don't think you're heartless. ...Do you think- Emily: -That you're heartless. I've thought that before, yeah. Jess: I... I really do like Mike. Emily: That's just great, Jess. Are we doing this now, really? Jess: Well, I just-... Emily: What about me? Mike was my man. ...And you were, supposedly, my friend. Jess: I was your friend... Emily: You fooled me.

They've stopped walking by now, and are facing each other. From this point there are still a few choices to be made that can make the conversation escalate again. Emily can choose to get angry here, but in a heartbroken, agonized way. Choices are "accuse" and "listen" Accusing has different dialogue to before where she's yelling about betrayal and what she thought they had now that Jess has begun picking the scab.

Handigo shows up again and starts the don't move and qte section from the previous path I went over, but it's much shorter as they've walked further at this point. Emily has only one chance to abandon Jess this time, compared to the multiple instances before.

If it continues, this time with "listen", then Jess airs all her reasons out. She's sorry this happened. She misses Emily. She wasn't thinking, or she convinced herself this was what she deserved but she sees now it wasn't- I don't have any headcanons on why this happened. I'll leave it to you to fill in those blanks how you'd like :)

But yes, this raises their relationship, just a little, and they get by without ever seeing Handigo. I guess Jack finds them at the end of their section and that can continue similarly... with these choices, Emily returns to the lodge with Jess. In the best possible outcome, where the spark to rebuild what they had is there.

Let's hope they both survive the rest of the night so they can do that. It would be so horribly sad for them to go through that and then never reach any further because one or both don't survive until dawn.

Imagine Jess there when Mike and Emily start the confrontation over the bite!! Aaaaa, and depending on what you chose in the previous episode, Jess can step in to defend or just remain silent. So much comes from this! I LOVE IT!! There are so many gaps to fill in. SO much to consider with Jess present in this way. So so so good

Thanks for reading, if you did!! I had SO many thoughts while I worked on this piece, and I would absolutely love hearing anything you have to add!! I would love to answer any questions or have discussions if you're interested! dms (should be) open, and my ask box too! Give me more ideas for alternate scenarios like this to draw! 👀

[concussed-to-pieces]

Arbiter's Solstice; Part Three

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Pairing: Eventual Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: Karl was either going to spontaneously combust out of boredom, or spontaneously combust out of having to watch you working in the fields. Oh sure, he didn't have to watch you work. But he did. Sometimes. Most of the time.

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and enjoying what I do! Hopefully I'll see you soon, but if not, stay safe. 💚 Enjoy!

Tag List: @stargazerofgoldenwords @cookiethewriter @crookedmoonsaultpunk @colesterstrudel @spoopyredacted @velvet-paradox @kotall-ohh @calwitch @katreneebug @missjasmine98 @sunflowers-and-swear-words @savage-rhi @nova-ivy541 @xyaswrlldd @the-videodame @luvley-shadow @akashiiiiii @spook0 @leediavhs @wysterias-not-so-secret-diary @alldevilsmaycry @writtennotsaid @mulcivert @cedarsmokesrandoms @smallestsnarkestgirl @buttons-beads-lace @vodkafolie @theplagueworm @holydreamerpastadragon @story-chaotic-brain @ohlookapan @topgirl17 @fyufox @immajojoreference @that-thangiling @n-o-r-4 @hauntedadagium @redjahxfox 

[If you were tagged in error, please let me know and I’ll remove you!] 

Part One: Chosen

Part Two: Struggles

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains gore, mentions of death, canon-typical violence, depictions of mental and physical duress and unprotected sexual activities between two consenting adults. Stay safe!]

Karl stared aimlessly up at the smoke wafting overhead from the stubbed-out cigar in his ashtray, his fingers tapping the surface of his work bench. The bench was littered with scrap, bits and pieces he'd been attempting to make sense of all morning. 

When Donna had sent a request for all able-bodied villagers to assist with the salvaging of the fields and the planting of the autumn harvest, he had assumed you would wish to be exempted from such a tedious task. Instead, you leaped at the opportunity eagerly. Had he kept you cooped up for too long and you just needed to stretch your legs? Or was there something more sinister at work? Had Donna gotten to you with her damn spores?

Heisenberg groaned, rubbing his hand across his face.

The phone above the workbench began ringing, a dull clicking noise that Karl barely registered at first. He drew a circle with his finger, mentally trying to fit several pieces on the table in front of him together. If that goes to here, maybe I can–

Wait, the phone?  

The man bolted upright, seizing the receiver and nearly yanking the whole unit off the wall in the process. Through the buzzing hum of poorly-insulated lines came the sound of howling, snarling, and-

“Karl?”

“What the hell is happening, Donna?!” Heisenberg barked, already halfway into his coat. He could almost feel her mustering up the strength to say something through her obviously-crippling anxiety, but he stifled his pity for the woman. Something was clearly wrong. “Donna, what the fuck do you need?” He asked finally, trying to prod her to respond.

There was a choked gasp for air and then she exhaled, “the lycans won't listen.”

The lycans. Fuck. He hadn't spared a thought for them since well before he’d torn Alcina's throat out. They'd been on the same level as humans, annoying, useless. 

Heisenberg slammed the phone down into the cradle, certain he'd broken the rotary dial with the motion. It didn't matter.

He grabbed his hat, shoving it onto his head as he headed for the first of many doors to reach the outside. He'd have to muster up some kind of weapon as he went, unwilling to trust the durability of his old hammer. Worst came to worst, he could make something out of the salvaged tractor. He would be fine, it was the birds that unnerved him when he went outside but he would be fine– 

Why the hell was his heart beating so fast?!

…

You swung the heavy bucket, clobbering the creature in front of you grimly. The momentum carried you in a circle, almost toppling you, but you managed to catch yourself before you fell. 

The lycans had fallen upon the fields without warning, much fewer in number than they had been before the Lady's demise but no less ferocious for their lack of numbers. The villagers, armed with nothing but spades and rakes for turning the earth, quickly rallied and fought back. You had been returning from the well with a fresh bucket of water for the workers to drink, so you didn't even have the benefit of a long-handled tool to defend yourself!

Lycans didn't terrify you like the Soldat had. If anything, you were used to seeing creatures like lycans or Dimitrescu's Moroaică. You weren't thrilled about seeing them, but they didn't necessarily unnerve you, especially since you weren't dealing with them alone. Outside, under the cheery sunlight of midday, they weren't quite so imposing.

You brought the bottom of the water bucket down on the head of another lycan, water flying everywhere as the beast snapped and yelped in response. One of the other villagers swung his rake into the beast's ribs, scoring several deep wounds in the lycan's side. 

Where is Donna? you wondered frantically, glancing around for the unwilling leader of the village. The black-veiled woman seemed to have vanished into thin air, however. You and the rest of the laborers were evidently on your own. You set your jaw, working with the other villager to batter the downed lycan with your implements until it stopped moving. 

The brutality of the action was shocking, yet you felt nearly nothing about it. Pragmatism, maybe a new gift from your service under Karl? The Lady had always weaponized fear and anticipation in equal measure, where Lord Heisenberg was quick to make a choice and carry it out. If something was threatening you, be it Soldat or despot, end it. 

Simple.

You straightened up, wiping the sweat from your brow and squinting through the gritty dust. The fields would be ruined (well, more ruined) if this fight went on for much longer. Someone would need to be decisive to put a stop to the lycans marauding behavior.

That someone turned out to be one Lord Karl Heisenberg, the Iron Horse seeming to materialize out of the dust of the field like an apparition. The large man snapped his fingers, ancient shrapnel rising from the disturbed dirt to do his bidding. Without a word, without so much as a sound, he merely gestured with his hand and every lycan dropped. 

You were certain you weren't the only one standing there stunned by the speed of the whole endeavor, but you may have been the only one to notice how hard Karl's chest was heaving. That, combined with the way his eyes darted across the fields until they met yours and his shoulders visibly relaxed–

Gods, his eyes. You were suddenly breathless for an entirely different reason, feeling your body flush with heat as his gaze burned straight through you. To think, you had jumped at the chance to perform some labor away from Heisenberg's factory, just to give yourself the opportunity to have a little space, only to be rendered useless once more the moment his glance landed on you. So much for your noble attempt!

What was less surprising than his reaction was, unfortunately, the way he stormed across the dusty ground, the large man clearly making a beeline for you. You braced for his approach, mentally trying to remind yourself that he still had yet to be cruel to you. Sure, he could be more than a little terrifying, but that came with his demeanor! That came with just being who he was, it wasn't as though he was making a deliberate effort to be so…scary.

The man kicked a dead lycan aside, the limp body leaving a fresh furrow in the ground from the force of Karl's blow. A jagged piece of metal jutted proudly upwards from the base of the creature's neck, black ichor staining the dark hair darker still.

You swallowed hard.

“You,” Karl hissed, but…but he wasn't even looking in your direction? You cautiously glanced around, quickly spying Donna standing next to the field with Angie. “Don't you know anythin’?! You need to turn the soil first, get all the big rocks and metal out of the way before you try to plant! Imagine if one of-” There was a sickening squelching noise as a deadly sharp bit of metal pulled itself free of another lycan's head, the object rising to hover beside Karl's shoulder. “-your villagers ended up losing a hand from something like this?!” The metal shard darted through the air at Donna's head and you flinched, exhaling hard when it dropped harmlessly to the ground at her feet. “You need to think like a goddamn leader!” Heisenberg roared. “You're not some helpless stupid child, Beneviento, so act like it!”

“This reaction seems a bit overblown, Heisenberg.” That may have been the longest sentence you'd ever heard out of Lady Beneviento. Karl halted, obviously surprised as well. Donna's hands were clasped in front of her around Angie, her already-pale knuckles further whitened by the force of her grip, but her voice was steady when next she spoke. “Everyone, please take a short rest. We will return to work in half an hour.”

“Not you,” Karl growled when you attempted to slink off with the rest of the villagers. “You're staying where I can see you.” He then raised his voice to address Lady Beneviento once the villagers departed, “Why the hell did you call me? It's your damn village to manage.” The man griped, shoving his hands into his pockets as you sheepishly moved to stand beside him. 

Donna wavered, clutching at a nearby trellis for support. You stepped forward, instinctively looking around for something for her to sit down on, but Karl moved past you and took her arm. 

“Have you had anything to eat today? Drink?” He enquired gruffly, clicking his tongue when she shook her head. “Infuriating. It's hot and you're out here wrapped in black fabric. Did your gift eat your brain?”

“I am not so blessed as you.” Donna retorted dryly, gripping his arm. “It is difficult.”

“I'll go draw more water! Uh, can you…?” You held out the metal pail to Heisenberg, who flicked a hand at it and removed the fresh dents. “Thank you!”

…

“Your pet is so dutiful.” Donna remarked after Karl had settled her onto the tailgate of a nearby wagon. “They must be a great help.”

The lord gritted his teeth. “Don't call them that.” He couldn't read her expression beneath the veil, but he could certainly guess. “I'm not fucking Miranda, I don't keep these things around as pets.” 

“‘These things’,” Lady Beneviento chuckled, the noise as dry as parchment. “You still want to sound like her. Very well. Not a pet. What, then?”

He gave the frail woman an incredulous look. “None of your goddamn business, that's what. Since when do you care about my affairs? I feel like you've got much more important shit to consider.” 

“Indulge me.” 

“I'd sooner chop off my own dick,” was the man's uncouth retort. “You've got enough fires to put out, don't go sticking your nose where it doesn't belong.”

“So vulgar.” The veiled woman leaned back, Angie kicking her heels rhythmically against the tailgate as she did. “I was only curious.”

“Don't act like we're friends just because I agreed to rebuild your crap, woman. I'm not here to facilitate your entertainment. And neither are they, for that matter.” 

“Understood.” Lady Beneviento sighed, actually sounding disappointed. 

Karl bit his tongue, both literally and figuratively as he kept himself from chiding her anew on her childish behavior. “Where did the lycans come from? Which direction?” He eventually asked.

Donna indicated towards what was left of Moreau's reservoir. “It has been so dry recently. Have they run out of food?”

The large man offered no response, instead kneeling to examine one of the quickly-dissolving bodies. The creature's ribs were plainly visible, pressing against the thin, ashen skin in unhealthy juts. 

“What will I have to offer you for your continued assistance as we plow and plant?” Donna called, interrupting his amateur investigation. Karl grumbled to himself, dusting his knees off when he rose.

“Scarecrows.” He watched her head tilt upwards beneath her thick veil, the woman obviously confused. “You heard me. Build scarecrows. You do that and I'll make sure the rest of the lycans don't get your precious villagers.” Heisenberg paused, a wolfish grin creasing his face. “At least, not while they work in the fields. Deal?”

“More than fair, especially from you!” Angie chirped before Donna could answer. “Maybe you're not so bad.”

“Keep your inane observations to yourself, you little creepshow.”

…

The heavy pail banged against your leg with every step. You weren't certain how much water the Lady Beneviento could drink, but if her appetite was anything like her deceased sister's, you may need another bucket! 

Flagging down one of the other women on your way by the resting band of villagers, you requested that she bring some bread and fruit to Lady Beneviento. No doubt the sugar would help to raise her spirits somewhat. To your surprise, however, the woman quickly shook her head.

“I'm not going anywhere near that…man.” She said, her voice just loud enough for the rest of the laborers to hear. “That's Lord Heisenberg.”

You squinted at her, a little baffled. But then, you recalled you had been much the same before everything that had transpired. Her apprehension was incredibly understandable. “Oh, of course! Just bring it to me then, I can bring it to them.” 

“Are you certain? What if he…does something to you?” The woman asked fearfully.

“Don't you recognize them?” another woman scoffed from her place at the fenceline, giving you a disdainful look. “They were his handmaiden, of course they're not scared of him. They're the reason we're in this mess, if they had just-!”

“The bread and some fruit, please.” To your credit, your voice didn't shake as badly as you feared. The first woman skittered off towards one of the houses and you set the bucket on the ground to wait for her return, intent on ignoring the daggers you could feel being glared at you. The snide remarks were a bit more difficult to tune out, though.

“No wonder the lord showed up so quickly-”

“What have they been doing in that factory? Can't be anything good.”

“We're only in such a bad state because they refused to follow the orders of their betters!”

“Imagine willingly working for something like that! And with Lady Dimitrescu hardly cold in the ground-”

A covered basket was pressed into your arms, the woman giving you a sorrowful look. “Take care, little one.” She murmured softly.

“Naturally!” You replied with an air of extreme cheer, determined not to let the rest of the gossips know how their words had affected you. Hefting the bucket once more, you listed slightly to the side before adjusting to the combined weight. “Thank you for your hospitality!” 

Perfectly willing to accept my help when I'm smacking a lycan with a bucket, but bringing some provisions to their leader is a bridge too far, you groused uncharitably to yourself as you made your way back to the other edge of the field. Ridiculous. If Karl had wanted to do something bad, I doubt Lady Beneviento would be able to stop him.

You hoped the rest of the villagers would be able to observe the lord and lady interacting. Maybe they would be able to comprehend that Heisenberg wasn't…

Well, wasn't as much of a threat as they wanted to believe. You sighed heavily, then straightened back up and pasted on a smile. “Some refreshments, Lady Beneviento!” You announced upon your arrival, waiting respectfully until the woman shifted Angie aside so you could place the basket on the tailgate of the wagon. Karl took the bucket himself without a word, filling the ladle and then passing it to Donna so she could drink. In the meantime you unwrapped the basket, surprised to see a jar of pickled vegetables as well as your requested rolls and a small bowl of raspberries. 

“What will you sample first, my lady?” The way you slid back into your more formal manners felt like putting on an itchy sweater. It fit, certainly, it was your place, but that didn't make it comfortable or desirable. You hadn't realized how much more casual you were with Lord Heisenberg until this moment. 

“You're eating.” Heisenberg growled, interrupting the woman midway through shaking her head. “You'll do none of those idiots any good if you're dead. You need to be alive if you expect me to keep showing up to deter the lycans. Now eat.”

“Perhaps just a few pieces of carrot?” You bargained, using the provided fork to spear a sliced carrot from the jar of vegetables. “And this bread looks fresh! Hours old, if that. You and Miss Angie are bound to enjoy it, especially with these raspberries.”

“Ah…I suppose. Perhaps you are right.” Lady Beneviento murmured, gamely accepting the fork from you. “The carrots are very bright this year.”

“They are!” you agreed, stunned but delighted. Was this an actual conversation? 

Karl refilled the ladle, his expression unreadable as he waited for Beneviento to finish chewing the carrot. “Drink. Small bites.” He instructed her, and you heard a snort from beneath the veil.

“Such a doting brother.” 

“Do it, you ungrateful little shit.” Heisenberg snarled. “You want me to protect your sheep? Take care of yourself because after the planting is done, I'm not coming back to your flock.” His eyes wandered to you momentarily before he seemed to snap back to attention, continuing, “you've put enough people in danger today. You need to be able to handle it yourself the next time it comes to your doorstep.”

“There is no need to scold me like an unruly child, Lord Heisenberg.” 

Karl tensed up and you quickly replaced the ladle in his hand with an herbed piece of bread, knowing all too well his weakness for the soft rolls. “Please eat, my lord.” You insisted, your cheeks tingling with the effort of maintaining your pleasant smile. “I can assist Lady Beneviento, I imagine you have more important things to tend to. To er, ensure the safety of the villagers?” 

The man tore a bite out of the roll, sharp teeth easily ripping the bread apart. “Oh absolutely. You know me, I'm a real…humanitarian.” He doffed his hat lazily at the two of you, then turned on his heel and headed for the small rise of land bordering the fields.

“It is curious how familiar you are with dear Karl.” Lady Beneviento commented once she seemed to believe the man was out of earshot. You froze, panic gripping your throat. “You were his…handmaiden, correct?”

“Y-Yes, my lady.”

“How very strange.” After that, Lady Beneviento didn't say another word, the frail woman seeming, frankly, exhausted from the morning's excitement. The villagers returned to their toil soon after Karl took his position on the rise, the lord pacing back and forth aimlessly as the ground was broken and dirt was sifted. You returned to your labor as well, continuing to haul water or break apart the larger chunks of loam to be sifted, and you did your best to ignore the broadening gulf of distance between yourself, the rest of the village denizens and Lord Heisenberg.

Karl would occasionally pause in his pacing to lift whatever shrapnel was picked from the earth, the man clearly collecting it with the intent to form some new weapon. He had a relatively sizable stack by supper time, when all labor stopped in order for folk to prepare their evening meal. Wearily the group of you trudged off the field, and force of habit led your footsteps towards what was left of Castle Dimitrescu. You were only brought out of your reverie by Heisenberg's voice, nearly jumping out of your skin when he spoke up behind you, “going somewhere, sweetheart?”

“N-No, not at all!” You denied, once more out of habit, turning to face him. “I was just…I was lost in thought.” Karl nodded as though he accepted your explanation, his own brow furrowed. “What are you doing following me, anyway?!” You sputtered.

The man shrugged. “The lycans. You never know where they might come from next.” He then straightened up, lighting a cigar. He hadn't smoked the entire time he was on guard duty, you realized belatedly. Just paced, back and forth, back and forth-

“Thank you.” You blurted out before you could think it through, dissolving into a stammer when he gave you a look of confusion. Something about his eyes tied your tongue in knots, but eventually you managed to explain yourself. “Thank you f-for coming today. I know you don't really like Lady Beneviento, so I really appreciate you–”

“It's not that I don't like her,” Karl interjected, his expression darkening. “It's…it's more than that. Look, don't worry about it. We made a deal, and I'm going to honor my side of it. That's all there is to it.”

It's more than that. 

A thought came to you as Karl fell into step alongside you, of Lord Heisenberg and Lady Beneviento…you flinched, shaking your head to ward off that mental image even as your brain pragmatically reminded you well they're not actually siblings, there's no harm in it. Perhaps they had simply found solace in one another due to their unique upbringing, it didn't have to be more complex than that. It would explain a bit of the animosity Karl seemed to harbor for her, especially after his binding–

You had to keep yourself from slapping your forehead in annoyance at your own stupidity, of course that's why Karl was on less than good terms with her! From the looks of things she had been in no position to challenge the Lady Dimitrescu when it came to Heisenberg's imprisonment. Alcina had been…well, a bit of a brute, really. You couldn't imagine Donna defying her in any sense, least of all regarding someone who, in theory, was the only one who threatened Lady Dimitrescu's total dominion over the region. 

To think that your misplaced jealousy (and it was extremely misplaced, why on earth would you believe Lord Heisenberg even thought of you like that?!) had led to you immediately assuming to know the hearts and minds of two individuals who were absolutely your betters in every sense of the word. You were ashamed of yourself, feeling small and foolish in your insecurity.

You were a handmaiden, nothing more, and that was how things had to be.

…

Karl was either going to spontaneously combust out of boredom, or spontaneously combust out of having to watch you working in the fields. 

Oh sure, he didn't have to watch you work. But he did. Sometimes. 

Most of the time.

He'd rest his arm on the handle of his new hammer, rest his chin on that and just let his eyes drift where they wanted. At least you seemed oblivious to his stare, too intent on your chores to bother to remain aware of your surroundings. Good thing Karl was there to ward off anything dangerous that may have approached.

And he had absolutely had his hands full for the first few days. The lycans had tried every which way to get past him in order to attack the vulnerable villagers, but it always ended the same: dissolving bodies pushed off to the side, a few grudging thank-yous, maybe an extra bit of bread and cheese thrown his way during the communal lunch. You'd think he would get a bit more recognition; not a single villager had died yet on his watch. 

A distant yell roused him from his staring match with the area you had occupied, the man finding to his silent dismay that you had vanished while he wasn't paying attention. 

The shout had come from the direction of the well. Heisenberg straightened up and the other laborers in the field seemed to take notice, their work pausing while they watched him shift his posture. Heisenberg ignored them, one hand reaching out towards the well. He closed his eyes to aid his concentration, the range of his power dependant on his focus–

Lycans. Multiple, his attention leaping from one to the next. A filling here, a screw in the knee there, bodies lighting up with hotspots of metal that he could turn to his advantage even at this distance.

Wait. He had needed to fix you after Alcina, a screw in the knee, what if he'd left something behind–

Another scream, this time from the other end of the field. The lycans had split what few numbers they had left, attempting to pick off outliers before Karl could reach them. The man growled, irritated, then stripped two pieces of metal off his hammer and sent them spiraling across the field. He barely waited to see if they had hit their mark before he bolted towards the well.

Karl reached out again, mentally straining to find something-

There! Bullet, lodged in a ribcage. He doubted you'd ever been shot in your life, so he took the gamble and latched onto the piece of metal, slamming it upwards until it tore free of whatever body it had resided in. 

Heisenberg finally crested the hill before the square, taking in the sight beneath him momentarily before he sprinted forward. 

It wasn't you. It wasn't you. Where the hell were you?! It was some man from the village, some useless man who was doing his best to defend himself by dashing back and forth around the well. 

Heisenberg gritted his teeth and brought the hammer down on the head of one of the frail lycans, spotting another one already dead. That must have been the bullet bearer. The last lycan whirled, snarling and howling at his intrusion. Karl bared his teeth at the creature, seeing Moreau pandering and groveling to Miranda every time he looked at the piscean lord's creations. “What's the matter? Were you expecting someone else?” Heisenberg sneered, watching the beast quail in real time as it seemed to recognize him. “Donna isn't here, little mutt. But you're going to wish she was.”

…

You turned out the loaf from its pan, exhaling in relief when it held strong and didn't collapse. The crust was a little darker than you'd like, but it would be edible enough! People were always hungry at the noon meal, so you had taken it upon yourself to bake extra loaves of the herbed bread. You had the time for it, after all, since Heisenberg took care of most of the chores in his factory! All you had really needed to do was prepare the dough in advance and transport it in the morning, then briefly break away to put it in a borrowed oven so it would be fresh for the communal meal. A simple enough task.

You wiped your hands off on your apron, wrapping the loaves in a clean towel and then tucking them into a basket so you could tote them to the mishmash of tables that had been set up outdoors in the shade of the gnarled orchard. The weather had continued to hold, a blessing and a curse for the backbreaking work that needed to be accomplished, but after such a long time cooped up in Castle Dimitrescu, the sunlight was wonderful and you cherished every moment you could get. 

A commotion outside caught your attention and you headed for the door, your basket safely slung over your arm. Perhaps everyone had decided to take the break a little early? It was warmer than usual today, it would certainly make sense-

Karl was in the middle of the field, surrounded by the rest of the villagers. “-want them found now, nothing gets done until they're located!” He was shouting, gesturing down at two more lycan corpses. Your heart leaped into your throat, you hadn't even known there was an attack! Had someone gone missing in the confusion?

“Sir?” One of the men spoke up, visibly shrinking when Karl glared his way and then raising a hand to hesitantly point in your direction. Heisenberg glanced up, paused, and then began shoving his way through the crowd. 

You had a ludicrous thought for a moment of fleeing, but you dismissed it immediately. Lord Heisenberg would be on you in an instant. It would be better to just take your punishment on the chin, so to speak.

That might have been easier to accept if Karl didn't look so exceedingly angry. He had even gone a bit red in the face, the color unfamiliar compared to his usual pallor. He towered over you, the large hammer landing haft up in the dirt as he mutely reached for your shoulders. You couldn't help the shudder that ran through your body when he grabbed you, bracing yourself for some terrible beating. 

A moment passed. Then two. Your eyes welled up and you blinked rapidly at the ground. 

“Look at me.” His voice was deceptively even. You wavered uncertainly, then managed to shake your head. “Why not?”

“I am afraid.” You admitted. “I know I should be able to look at you, but you seem furious. I…I am afraid.”

“You're afraid?” Heisenberg barked that strange, coarse laugh and then embraced you. “I was terrified.” He confessed, low enough that only you would hear. “I…I couldn't find you. I thought-”

Your heart was hammering so loudly in your ears you could barely make out his words. Terrified. He had been afraid…for you? “I don't understand.” You whispered.

“I know.” Heisenberg muttered. Then, “neither do I.”

…

The fields were finally all in order three days later. Donna was hoping (perhaps futilely) to have a bumper crop of corn to carry the village through the winter. The mended tractor had sped up the process considerably, but it was still an immense undertaking to cut back the dead crops and overturn them in the fields that Beneviento did want to use. Obviously she didn't exactly have the manpower that the village had enjoyed during Lady Dimitrescu's tyrannical reign, so she had to make several hard decisions to ensure the survival of the people she did have.

Heisenberg didn't envy her. Of course, that was nothing new, but now he really didn't envy her. It was no small feat managing a village. Hell, he'd had his hands full with his Soldats, and they couldn't even talk back! He knew himself too well, knew he didn't have the patience or the restraint for it.

His eyes wandered to you at your comically oversized stove and he had to snort at himself. Maybe he did have patience and restraint, but only in very…specific scenarios. Speaking of which. “Is it done yet?” He called for the fifth time, your little laugh warming him down to his core. 

“Almost!” You answered, turning to give him a quick smile. “I'm sorry, I know you're hungry.” 

“You have no idea.” Karl muttered half to himself, watching the sway of your hips as you resumed your task. Starving. 

“Are you helping to restore the barn tomorrow? Those that can't are stuffing the scarecrows, so I'll probably be doing that. I'm not much one for lumber.”

Truthfully Karl had forgotten about that next chore. Now technically Donna hadn't asked for his help regarding that anyway, so technically he didn't have to. But the thought of you sitting alone amongst the rest of the villagers was…irritating.

He had heard what they said, he always heard what they said and they were hardly kinder now that his imprisonment had ended. If anything, much of their vitriol seemed to have found a new target in you. Where they wouldn't say anything to his face, they were more than willing to say terrible things to you. He had watched you grin and bear it, but it didn't exactly brighten his day to know that you were enduring bullshit because of him. Add to that the fact that you hadn't ever brought it up to him so that the two of you could do something about it…

It was noble, in an exasperating and unfamiliar way, that you wanted to take on his woes or even shield him from them. As if you cared about him.

You were just some silly human.

Several fresh flatbread on a cutting board landed in front of him, and you carefully placed down a trivet on the table before managing to haul over a heavy skillet full of several eggs cooked in a molten hot tomato sauce. “Please be careful, it's extremely hot,” you warned, but Karl was already midway through digging a large spoon (more of a shovel, really) into the delicious-smelling mixture. 

“Do you have time to eat?” He asked gruffly as you moved to return to the stove. “With me, I mean.”

You paused, giving him a surprised look before answering, “of course, if that is your wish.” Karl made a small motion with the spoon and you practically glowed, your smile was so brilliant. You rushed to pick up a small bowl and then you attempted to serve Karl, which the lord immediately brushed off. He instead placed a substantial amount of the tomato mixture into your bowl, topping it with one of the eggs like a garnish. 

How much did you even eat? He wasn't usually in the habit of watching you consume your meals, too busy with his work to bother. The man tore one of the flatbreads in half to share, unable to fight his smile when you shyly accepted your piece. “Enjoy.” 

…

You were hopelessly in love, despite your best intentions. Absolutely smitten, entirely entranced, mired in juvenile infatuation. You stuffed more leaves into the patchworked shirt that would eventually become the body of a scarecrow and you did your best not to let your eyes wander to where Lord Heisenberg was working on the barn. It was a futile effort, of course, but you really did try!

It wasn't exactly fair that he had abandoned his shirt hours ago, the other villagers laboring alongside him in a similar state of undress. He was just so incredibly strong, and so casual about his strength. Carrying beams of lumber with ease to shore up the collapsing roof, using his strange power to tighten otherwise unreachable bolts or to wrestle with problematic nails…you knew you ought to have been paying more attention to your own task, but you also knew you weren't the only one looking at Lord Heisenberg.

Indeed, several individuals around you who were also busying themselves cramming dried cornstalks into old pillowcases would occasionally pause, hands going still while they watched Karl do something particularly impressive. Something in your chest tightened when you noticed the amount of attention fixed on Lord Heisenberg, but Karl tilted his head at that moment and caught your gaze. The man smirked, throwing you a wink, and you frantically ducked your head to avoid further humiliation amidst the tittering laughter of your peers.

Honestly, you had shared breakfast with Lord Heisenberg, not any of these other individuals. You had been Chosen for him at first, but after everything was said and done, he had chosen you. Perhaps…perhaps it wasn't so bad to have a little pride in such things.

You dared to sneak another look and when Karl met your eyes again, you gave him a soft, fond smile before returning to your task. There was still work to be done, regardless of your own internal discourse, and certain things couldn't wait. 

…

Heisenberg sought you out at the noon meal, the man having taken note of the furtive glances you'd been shooting his way all damn morning. He had to admit, it was…flattering, but also oddly sweet. 

He posted up alongside you on the bench, a trencher of excessively-cooked fish balanced on his leg. You passed him a slice of bread with some pork drippings while apologizing for the lack of salt, but the man waved you off, gesturing down at the fish. “Help y'self,” he mumbled through his first bite, “watch f’ the li'l bones.”

“I suppose-” you began, tugging at the still-attached tail and then making a quiet noise of surprise when the spine snapped, dropping the rest of the backbone onto the plate. “Oh dear. Well, that makes it easier.” You delicately placed the tail off to the side. “The Lady only ever had us prepare red meat or poultry.” You said, half to yourself while you frowned doubtfully down at the remains of the fish. “I'm not quite…sure how to do this.”

Before he could think better of it, Karl picked up a piece of the fish and easily stripped several sections off the ribs, offering them to you wordlessly. You accepted with a grateful smile, placing your portion onto your own slice of bread and then taking a large bite. The man continued to prepare his own smaller portion, pretending not to notice the way you gulped water with every bite.

“It's a bit, er, dry.” You mumbled when Karl finally asked how you liked the fish. “I'm afraid I don't understand the appeal. Maybe some seasonings would improve the flavor?”

Karl cleared his throat, stifling a laugh. The fish was as dry as a bone; he was more impressed that it had stuck together this long instead of just evaporating outright. “You're drinking more water than the fish did.” He remarked, making you sputter. “Don't worry, it's edible. Whatever you don't want, I'll finish.” 

“I'm sorry, I don't mean to be ungrateful.” You apologized guiltily, ducking your head. 

“We'll eat good tonight.” Karl crunched a needle-like bone, feeling it pierce the side of his cheek. “Let the rabble burn their fish and gawk at their betters.” 

“Oh, you noticed.” Your voice had gone thin.

“‘Course I noticed. I'm not goddamn blind.” Heisenberg growled, “they're terrified of me but they'll stare like slack-jawed idiots as soon as I show some skin.” He turned to the side, leaning in just a little and lowering his voice. “You're the only one I want gawkin’ at me, sweetheart.” 

You stared up at him, gawking in every sense of the word. Karl could feel his smirk making a triumphant return and he dared to slip a finger beneath your chin, feeling the way your pulse beat wildly at his touch. 

“Don't get all shy on me now, sweetheart,” he teased, tapping his thumb against your lips and then pulling away once more. “We can discuss further, when we have some…privacy.”

You blinked hazily before jolting, your back going poker straight as you focused your attention pointedly on the remains of the fish. 

…

“It's not hard to notice the way you treat me.” 

Karl turned from his workbench to look at you, the lord obviously surprised by your words. Your whole body was trembling but you did your best to maintain some level of eye contact. You already knew he could sense your fear, but hopefully he wouldn't misinterpret your apprehension. 

What you truly feared was rejection, or even disposal after brief fascination. The Lady had been so changeable in her moods and while Karl hadn't displayed quite that same level of vacillation, he did have a temper which seemed to burn hot. You weren't sure if you would be able to endure being disposed of, being ignored for the rest of your days once the shine wore off. 

“You treat me differently than the rest of the villagers.” You did your best to gentle your tone. This wasn't an accusation, after all, but an observation. 

Karl stood. “You make it sound like I shouldn't!” He half-laughed, but there was no humor in his tone. “Why wouldn't I treat you differently? You're the only one worth a damn in this entire village. You're the only one who treated me like a person, it's only natural that I'd treat you right.”

“You're a lord, though.” You pointed out. “You shouldn't display favoritism.”

“Have I ever given you the impression that I care about what I should or shouldn't do?” Heisenberg asked incredulously. “I killed Alcina. You of all people can understand that's something that I technically shouldn't have done and yet here we are, sans one noble House Dimitrescu.”

You shook your head, wishing you could just get him to understand. “It's not like that, it's just that…I mean, the rest of the villagers, they…” You trailed off, frustrated. What would you even say? ‘They're being rude to me’? Oh surely, what a change in behavior. “They just treat me differently.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” You were both startled by the speed and volume of your denial, Karl snorting in apparent disbelief at the outburst. You glared at the floor, making a futile attempt at hiding from the man. 

“Then what's the problem?” He asked brusquely, one ankle tucked behind the other as he leaned against his workbench. “I'm offering even more than what I've already done, and I don't want anything more in return. I'm offering what you know you want, sweetheart.”

“You know what I want, now?” You shot back, a little irritated at how easy everything seemed to be for him.

“Of course.” Karl replied with a cocky little tilt of his head. “You want me over you, or maybe under you. Behind you? Choices, choices.” 

Your dream from the other night raged to the forefront of your mind once more and you buried your face in your hands with a frustrated little scream. “I didn't want to be like this.” You mumbled through your fingers, oblivious to how stiff Karl's posture went at your confession. “It's not my place to be like this, surely someone else-”

“No one.” The lord said curtly. “Not a soul. They can look at me all they want, but it'll be you I'm coming back to every night.” His expression softened ever so slightly. “If you'll have me, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. 

“If…if I agree to this,” you swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “If I agree to this, you have to promise me that you won't…I mean, that if you get bored of me or you grow tired of my company, you'll state it plainly. Don't lie to me to spare my feelings, just tell me outright. I couldn't bear continuing to…engage with you if you no longer found my company pleasant.”

“It won't come to that.” Karl stated firmly. “Promise me you'll do the same, though. If you decide you'd rather move on, let me know so I can send you off.” 

“I doubt it will happen!” You rushed to assure him, “but I will acquiesce, of course. Neither of us are obliged to stay if we are unhappy!”

“Good.” Heisenberg fidgeted for a moment. “Can we…” He made an odd gesture at your pallet, “discuss further?”

“What else is there to discuss?” You queried, genuinely confused. Karl rolled his eyes with a groan, scooping you up into his arms and carrying you to your pallet. “Lord Heisenberg, I-”

“Karl.” He breathed in your ear, his voice sending an entirely different shiver down your spine. “Call me Karl when we're alone.”

“O-Of course.” Lord Heisenberg looked down at you expectantly and you bit your lip, hesitant even now. “Karl.”

“Sweetheart,” he practically purred the endearment, the gentle tone of his voice and the adoration in his eyes leaving you breathless. 

“I will meet you however I can.” You offered, propping yourself up on your elbows beneath him. “I am, however, not overly experienced in these matters.”

“Do you want me inside you at some point tonight?” Karl asked bluntly, smirking when you sputtered. “Don't worry about your experience. Whatever you've had, I'll make you forget about it.” 

“Oh.” You wheezed, more than a little frazzled. “Surely it would be better for you if I knew what I was doing?”

Karl ran his tongue over his teeth in that odd, nervous gesture. “Not really. I don't want you to be self-conscious.” He murmured, pressing his lips to the side of your neck. The man began unbuttoning your shirt, shoving the fabric off to the side so he could kiss your collarbone. 

The feeling of his facial hair on your bare skin had you trembling beneath him, your hands feebly gripping his shoulders in an effort to ground yourself. Oh certainly, there had been juvenile fumblings under the stairs in the kitchen, but you had never engaged in anything so…all-encompassing. Karl seemed ready to undo you entirely, the man taking his time with every button and hook that he encountered. 

He finally untied your breast band, slipping the cloth out from beneath you with a soft rustle. “I'm going to put my mouth here,” Karl warned you, his expression serious. 

Unsure of where here was, you still nodded your head, crying out when Karl roughly laved his tongue over your right nipple. The man coaxed the bud into his mouth, humming while you bucked and squirmed under his ministrations. No one had ever-! 

His free hand sought out your other breast, fingers teasing and fondling you to stiffness as you whimpered and bit down on your knuckles in an effort to keep quiet. The man growled something against your skin and then his knee dug beneath your thigh, hooking your leg up over his own and pressing his pelvis to yours through the layers of clothing. His skin was so hot, and the way his intense eyes watched your every move as you reacted helplessly to him…it was all too much and not enough at the same time.

“Karl,” you half-sobbed, fingers fumbling at the open throat of his shirt. “Please, please Karl-”

“You don't even know what you want,” the man gently teased you, undoing the laces on your skirt and splaying the homespun weave open on either side of your hips, leaving you wholly exposed aside from your underthings. Karl shoved your legs up over his thighs, leaning his body forward to return to your breasts. As he did however, he rutted against your pelvis firmly, making you whine without intending to. You flushed hot, avoiding his eyes as he cautiously shifted his weight. “Mm, what's wrong sweetheart? You're so quiet all of a sudden,” the lord breathed, grinding his body down in an abrupt motion that startled another whine out of you. “Is this what you want, hmm?”

He didn't wait for whatever reply might have been forthcoming, the man busying himself at your breasts again. You arched your back, feeling his canines scrape your sensitive skin in a delicious tingle of sensation. “Karl-” 

“I know, sweetheart.” He whispered, slipping a hand into the band of your underwear and tugging them off, then unbuttoning the placket of his pants. “Look, look at me.” 

You managed to raise your head to stare down the length of your body at whatever he was trying to show you, your half-lidded eyes widening and the flush rising on your cheeks once more. Karl huffed out a breath, stroking his cock and pressing the heated skin against your wet cunt. You were so slippery that he ended up sliding over your entrance, the head of his cock nudging your clit with a harsh little bump that had you whimpering.

“Too much?” Karl asked through gritted teeth, forcing out a laugh when you vigorously shook your head. “Good, right? Feels good?” 

You could barely get a word out, your voice dissolving into a moan when he reached up to toy with one of your nipples again. “Yes, yes, please…” 

“Alright, I'll keep goin’.” Karl assured, using his hand to spread the lips of your cunt a little wider so he could slot himself against you more firmly. His low rumble when he rutted his cock between his hand and your cunt fanned the ache deep in your stomach, making your hips jolt up of their own accord. “Oh, easy, easy,” the man gasped, obviously startled. “I know you want more, sweetheart, but I don't want to hurt you.” He held up his hand and you realized dimly that it was trembling. “Inside, yeah?” 

You nodded wildly, propping yourself up on your elbows again in an effort to watch what he was about to do. Karl shot you a wink, making you let out a nervous giggle. The sound quickly turned into a gasp as he tapped his thumb to your clit and pressed his middle finger against your entrance, the rough pads of his digits rasping along your skin briefly. Then he breached your cunt, his finger experimentally stroking at your insides while his thumb rolled over your clit. 

“Say my name, sweetheart.” Karl instructed you softly. 

“Karl, I-” your voice cracked and broke when the man pressed his index finger into you, spreading you wider and making lewd, wet noises with your cunt. 

“I know,” he crooned, “I know sweetheart, you're already so wet for me but we need to make sure. Show me what you like.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassed. “I don't–I don't know.” You admitted softly, arching your back when he flicked over one of your nipples again. 

“Mmm, I think you do.” Karl growled, tormenting your nipple with firm strokes that he echoed on your clit, making you squirm and cry out. “How do you make yourself feel good?”

“I haven't!” you denied desperately. “I wasn't allowed, I-I–”

“No?” Karl interrupted you, raising an eyebrow. “You never found something that made you feel nice? Never took advantage of…oh, I dunno’, a certain angle, maybe a pillow?”

“Wasn't allowed.” You reiterated, practically babbling while his fingers curled and thrust into you. “Wasn't allowed wasn't allowed-”

“But did you?”

“No!” You sobbed, caught off-guard when he twisted his wrist and did–something with his fingers that made an explosion happen behind your eyes. Your whole body went tense and then a warm sensation flooded your groin, pulling a bone-deep groan out of you as you sank into the pallet once more.

“Coming so soon? Guess you were serious.” Karl sounded surprised, but also like he was talking to you from down a hallway. You whimpered instead of replying, making him laugh. 

His cock slid along your pussy again, sending a lance of heat into your belly. Your cunt was still riddled with aftershocks from whatever Karl had done to you, the man panting softly as he rolled his cock over your twitching entrance. Back and forth, back and forth, every motion inspiring that same heat to build in your stomach and causing you to moan in response. 

“Spread your legs, sweetheart.” He requested, clapping a hand to your shaking calf. “Let's get these nice and wide for me, loosen everything up so you're comfortable.” Broad palms kneaded at the insides of your thighs, the man helping to warm up the spasming muscles with careful strokes. His fingers were still wet from being inside you, leaving cool trails along your inner thigh when he moved his hand. “I…I can't promise this is going to be good at first.” Karl warned, his expression slightly pained. “We can stop now.”

“No, I want it. I–” you hesitated, still not certain of what exactly you were hoping for. “I want everything.” You finished instead, hoping you sounded firmer than you felt. “I can endure it.”

Karl chewed on his lower lip. “If it's too much, you'd better tell me.” His voice dropped into a lower, more grave register. “Understand, sweetheart?”

You swallowed hard, nodding. “Yes, Karl.”

“Good.” 

…

It still took Heisenberg a few minutes to work up the courage to start. He justified the delay by continuing to work you over with his fingers, mentally warring with himself while you sighed and panted under him. 

He could stop. He wasn't an animal. He could be careful, and you had given your word that you would tell him if it was too much. 

It would be enough. It had to be. Damn it all, if he couldn't trust himself to manage this now, he never would. Karl grimaced, tucking his fingers beneath your chin to hold your gaze. “I'm going to start.” He said quietly, “it may be uncomfortable.”

“I understand.” So brave, always so brave, staring up at him with a hazy sort of determination that sent a hot rush down his spine. 

The lord barely refrained from nervously laughing, choosing instead to spread you wide and rest the head of his cock against your entrance. He didn't move for a moment, giving you the opportunity to say no, but in a surprising twist you wrapped your fingers around your own thighs, clumsily helping him to hold you open. 

Karl slowly, slowly pressed his dick into you, the man finding himself having to adjust multiple times in order to keep the motion relatively smooth. Gods, you were so soft and warm, it was incredible. If it wasn't for the guilt he felt welling up inside him, it would be perfect. But despite your natural lubrication and warmup this was still obviously a massive undertaking, your voice cracking when you exhaled a moan of what seemed to be discomfort as he bottomed out. “Oh, Karl, oh God–” you whimpered, fingernails digging into your own thighs. “Can I–can you hold still? I need-I need a minute t-to…”

“Of course.” Karl muttered before you could finish, settling you carefully into the cradle of his hips. “Let me know when you're ready.” He rested his thumb on your clit, the digit sweeping softly back and forth while you breathed deep and adjusted to his size. “Take as long as you need, sweetheart.” He continued, hanging his head when you inadvertently clenched down on his cock. “As long as you need, I can wait.” Truthfully, being inside you at all was undoing him, but he wasn't particularly concerned about his own stamina. He doubted you'd care either. 

Speaking of which, you tilted your hips upwards slightly and Karl watched your eyes fly open, the man biting back a smirk as you all but fucked yourself onto his cock for a breath. Heisenberg pressed a hand to your chest, easing you flat once more.

“I can take it from here, sweetheart.” He murmured, “do you mind if I finish inside you? Promise it won't do anythin’ but make a mess.” The cadou, the gift from Miranda, had given many things to him, but it had also taken much away. Humanity, normalcy, the promise of a simple life with someone else…

In response your heels dug into the small of his back, sheathing him impossibly deeper into you. “Please,” you begged, your eyes teary and cheeks wet. “Need you, need all of you.”

Heisenberg snarled, fucking down into you. He tugged your legs up off his hips, bending them at the knees and forcing you wide open, vulnerable for what he knew would be an insatiable event. “Take it then, sweetheart, take what's yours.” He crooned, certain deep down that he was being at least a little mean. After all, you were giving him this precious gift, the least he could do was behave himself. Easier said than done with your nails scraping tiny crescents between his shoulder blades though, easier said than done when your mouth was right next to his ear and you were sobbing his name while he fucked the sense out of you. Maybe you didn't mind him being a little less gentle? 

Karl pulled out and rutted against you for another moment, enjoying the way your clit pulsed when he tapped it with his cock and the way your body went tense with the pressure. Evidently you were wound even tighter than he was, despite your lack of experience. You cried out when he reached up and teased one of your nipples, your back bowing in response. 

“You close again? Want to come on my cock?” Karl asked, laughing outright when you nodded desperately. “Anything for you sweetheart. Hurt a little less?”

“It's not–it doesn't hurt, you just…” your fingers tangled in the sheets as you fidgeted, obviously trying to explain what it was that you felt. “You're so deep. It's not a…not a hurt, it's more of an ache.”

“Too deep?” The man queried, already considering what he needed to adjust posture-wise to keep you comfortable.

“No, I–” Karl felt the heated flush that spread across your skin, the man patiently waiting until you admitted, “I enjoy it, Karl. It's…I like it.”

“You like me deep inside you?” Heisenberg rolled his hips, sheathing his dick once more and thrusting hard enough to knock the breath out of you for a moment. “As deep as I can get?”

“Please-” you begged, “you fill me up so well–”

“Well I'm sure as hell going to,” Karl grunted. “I want to keep doing this forever, if you're amenable.” 

“I'd like that.” You smiled tearily up at him and Karl's breath hitched, hips stuttering as he lost his battle against the urge to spill into you.

“Sweetheart-” he gasped in your ear, the thunder of his own pulse nearly drowning out your whimpering. “Fuck, sweetheart, you're everything, you're all I want, you…I love you.” 

The man froze, realizing what he'd just blurted out (and the way your body had reacted to it). You tilted your head back, panting and moaning while your soaked little cunt throbbed around him and fucking hell–

Maybe it was alright. Maybe you hadn't heard him. 

“‘Love you too-” you managed to say, your voice weak and tremulous. 

Something inside Karl snapped (snapped more?) and the man buried his face in your neck, growling swears and entreaties in equal measure as he fucked you through your climax. Your answer was to wrap your arms around his neck and beg for more, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging until his scalp ached hotly. Karl wanted to scream, he wanted to fight something, but more than even those most primal urges, he just wanted to fuck you until you forgot your own name. 

A combination of your come and his own began to sluggishly drip from your cunt onto the sheets, clearly not helped by Karl’s relentless rhythm. The man absently slid a hand beneath the small of your back to adjust you and his fingers passed over the raised area of the multiple cursive Ds branded into your flesh. Again speaking before he thought, driven entirely by base instinct and possessive rage, the lord bared his teeth and seethed, “You are mine. Nobody else gets to touch you ever again.” Not Alcina, not fucking Moreau, never again.

“I'm y-yours, I'm yours Karl…” was your stilted, hiccuping reply, not that he'd even needed (or deserved) an answer. Heisenberg felt his expression soften, felt the fight-ready tension in his shoulders unwind, and the man placed apologetic kisses along your breasts and collarbone. You were so impossibly good to him, it was evident he would be repaying you for the rest of your time together.

“I dreamed about doing this.” The confession was soft, rasping in his dry throat. “Stuck in my cell, I-I'd think about it. You were so damn nice to me, I just…” Karl hesitated, well aware of your half-lidded stare boring a hole through him. “I wasn't used to humans being kind. Hell, anyone being kind. Guess I'm a little fucked up.” ‘A little’, fuck's sake.

“I would have let you.” 

Fuck's sake.

Karl closed his eyes, resting his forehead on your collarbone and exhaling raggedly. “I wouldn't have been good to you.” He admitted. “I was still too angry, too mean. I don't…it wouldn't have gone well. Trust me, it's better this way.”

You pressed your face into his neck, inhaling deeply and pressing kisses to the sweaty skin there. “I'm sorry.”

“Not your fault, sweetheart. I was fucked up before you were born.” The man shook his head, rolling his shoulders absently. “Fucked up, stuck in the cycle of being bitter and hateful, helpless to do anything but wallow and further other people's ambitions…it really got to me.” He nudged his nose into your cheek teasingly. “And then you came along.”

“The Lady chose me for you, she said it was a great honor.” You rolled your eyes, huffing out a breath. “She didn't mention the part where I would be sacrificed at the solstice, of course.”

“Well yeah, you wouldn't have agreed to it otherwise,” Karl allowed, his smirk fading slightly. “But then you chose me. A hard road to walk, sweetheart, and I don't take it for granted. I…thank you. For–well, for everything.” 

You sniffled, burying your face in his neck once more. 

Karl hummed in contentment, continuing to fuck you at a leisurely pace. “What do you say–” he panted when you clenched down on him again, “we do something special for the winter solstice?”

You squinted up at him, your brow furrowed in confusion. Karl just pressed a kiss to your forehead and smiled his usual, self-satisfied grin.

…

“I'm not certain that I-” you paused, excusing yourself as you yawned broadly. Karl continued wrapping a patched scarf around your neck, patiently waiting for the rest of your question. “-understand what the whole point of this is, Karl.”

“Have some cider.” He insisted instead of answering you, pressing a warm, chipped mug into your hands. “It's almost time.”

You grumbled a little to yourself but obediently sipped on the mulled beverage while Karl banked the fire in the stove and put on his own coat. Several days before the winter solstice, the man had gone out and constructed a small shelter on the rise of land the Duke normally inhabited, and it was from this shelter that the two of you emerged into the frigid blue of dawn. The Duke, parked nearby in his cart as ever, offered a wave but no further commentary, for which you were immensely grateful. It was still a bit early to be cordial, nevermind carry on a full conversation.

The air was breathtakingly cold; you could feel the rush of wind whipping past your nose and biting at any exposed skin it could find. The hot cider was now a lifeline and you kept your mittened hands tightly wrapped around it, taking a more hearty sip.

“Not long now.” Karl murmured, embracing you from behind and resting his chin on the crown of your head. 

“Are you going to explain to me what the point of all of this is?” You grumbled, slouching back against him.

It was several minutes before Karl spoke again, the man seemingly content to sit in silence. “It's…I don't know, it's like the opposite of the binding ritual.” He fidgeted with your coat for a moment (well, it was one of his coats, but you'd sewed an extra thick lining into it to keep yourself warm), eventually tucking his hands into the pockets. 

You hummed, not overly certain you understood what he was getting at, but also no longer cold.

The sun slowly rose over the horizon, burning through the tall pines and setting the morning mist alight with prismatic eddies in its wake. You squinted against the brilliant beams, every inch of your body suddenly tingling. It felt a bit like waking up after a long, long sleep in an awkward position, disoriented and rumpled. Sometimes in Heisenberg's factory you could go days without seeing the outside world, so perhaps your reaction was to be expected. It was a beautiful sunrise, all things considered.

Karl sounded a little faint when he said, “I think…I think there might have been something to that old witch after all.” He shook himself bodily, as if he was a dog that had just been given an unwanted bath. “Granted, nothing she can do about me now. But it does feel sort of–mystical.” He muttered something you couldn't make out under his breath, then raised his voice again. “Shortest day, longest night, rebirth, blah blah blah. We'll have to have a huge bonfire tonight, I guess.”

“Oh?” You tilted your head back to look at him. “Why?”

“Burning away the old, in with the new.” Karl sucked in a deep breath. “I'm…I'm happy you're still here with me.” He said gruffly.

“I'm happy to be here.” You assured him, your voice soft. 

“...I haven't told Donna I'll be building a massive fire next to her shitty little village.” Heisenberg mentioned casually moments later, as though it had only just occurred to him. Judging from the incredibly smug grin on his face, however, that had been his plan from the start. 

With Karl animatedly explaining about the Wild Hunt and the connections between someone named Freyja and the winter ‘rebirth’ of the sun, the two of you set off into the woods to search for dead trees and other dry kindling, his hand in your own. His grin eventually softened into a genuine smile as he answered your questions, and you found yourself falling silent just to hear him expand upon what was clearly a favored subject to him. He had a strange light in his eyes, but not necessarily an unwelcome one. It seemed more like he was returning to life.

The arbiter that was the solstice appeared to have once more come to bear, the cycle beginning anew. You had broken the previous cycle of course, so you hadn't the faintest idea of what this new one could have in store for you, but you knew for a fact that whatever the future held, you and Lord Heisenberg would face it together. 

Karl, you thought privately, a content little smile on your face.

“Why are you starin’ at me like that?”

You started, realizing belatedly that yes, you had been staring at the large man currently giving you a sideways look. “I–you seem happy, that's all. And I'm glad that you are.”

Karl blew out a raspberry, the steam from his breath swirling into the air. “‘Course I am. You're here.” You started beaming and he groaned, rumpling your hair while teasing, “don't get any ideas, sweetheart. Just because I want to keep you around forever…”

A terrifying lord, a ferocious fighter, The Iron Horse…and lastly, your love.

[gomirocket]

this story is so so sappy. and also, contains dysphoria comfort, fear of abandonment, low key BPD symptoms, touch starvation, and "mommy" as a pet name. be warned!

ggggGOD i am so needy right now. all i want to do, all i want to do, is sit down on someone's big cock, strap, whatever, and just have them coo and dote on me while i put on a show for her. i want to be stuffed so full that when i lean back you can see the outline on my tummy.

i wanna fuck myself on her while i let out allllll the pent up touch starvation. to just cry and sob because it feels so good, and because i'm finally loved. because she loves me so much she doesn't even care about her own pleasure for a little bit. she just wants to let me be subby and cuddly and needy.

i wanna sit there and beg, fucking myself stupid, "pplesseplease let me make you fffeel good i promise i'll do a good job justt i dont wanna be useless im a good toy please im not worth it a a-"

and have her lay there shushing me, a soft smile on her face, "no, dear. this is for you. i don't need your attention right now. i want to make you feel good. i love you."

and. i'd start crying harder. "no no no!! no cause if-cause if i dddont make you feel good you're gonna leave!!! and-"

"shut. up. you wanna make me feel good so bad? you want that security? fine. if you can't accept my love when i give it to you freely, i'll just have to force it on you."

she grabs me and pulls me close, rolling over so that i'm on the bottom.

"wwwait wait wait im sorry im sorry!!! i know you love me i love you please don't be mad im sorry!! im sorry im sorry im s-"

slap

"Mommy's not mad at you. i promise im not mad. it just. frustrates me. so much, when you're like this. when you're scared, insecure. and i know it's not your fault. i know it's not your fault. but. that doesn't mean i can't get frustrated. and that doesn't mean i can't feel upset. it hurts me when you feel like you can't trust me."

"... i'm sorry. i don't know what to do with these feelings. i try and i try to dismiss them, to appease them, to ignore them, but i cant. i just can't. i'm sorry mommy."

"oh, baby, baby, baby, it's okay. look, look, cling to me. i'm right on top of you. i'm not gonna let go. you're allowed to be clingy. you're allowed to be scared, and you're allowed to soothe yourself with me. i'm never, never ever going to abandon you. i love when you're needy. i love when you feel safe enough to come to me with these feelings. you don't need to put on an act to keep me happy. you don't need to do anything special. i'm in love with you."

she starts to thrust again, pressing right up against my spot while i cling to her with all my might.

"now, Mommy's going to fuck you nice and full, okay? and you're gonna let yourself go. you don't need to put on a show for me."

her hand gently tweaks my nipple, "is that clear, my precious little bun?"

"yes- YYES! thhabk you mommy thankyoutyabkyoughuyghvbbjgv"

she's pressing rrright into my girlcock from behind and i'm so wet and her tummy is so slick from me aaand and she's not stopping and

"thaaaats it baby, that's it. let it allll out. you don't need to pretend. you don't need to put on an act. you're moaning so pretty but i know that you're still holding back. leme just-"

she starts fingering my taint like i'm a real girl. my moans start sounding more noticeably trans.

"ohhh i know how much you hate it when i do that, don't you? when i press that spot and you can't help but making those adorable fucking noises. guess what? i don't care. you're still a girl. you're still my girl. you're still mine. and you're mine to toy with, mine to touch, mine to make feel good. not the other way around. now,"

my moans get shaky, my hole clenches, my cock throbs and my body does anything it can to lower the intensity. my back arches into her, our chests press against each other, ohh fuck, i can't-

"cum for Mommy."

her tummy gets turned into a sticky mess, tears stream down my face as i press into the hug, trying desperately to ride out this orgasm and keep my sanity.

what feels like an eternity passes, my make-up is wrecked, and my hole is worse off. she collapses on top of me, both of us panting for air. she gently strokes my hair as we lay there.

"i love you honey. i love you."

"i love you too Mommy."

[honestlyanowl]

Okkk

So um yandere reader with prison Vi👀👀

I jsut think it would be really funny, like you are an enforcer who works at Stillwater and you get really protective of Vi and are really nice to her even when she does stupid shit with other prisoners. Suddenly this bratty Kiramman girl comes along and steals Vi away... can't be having that now can we?

- 💜

Ohh my god 🙏 (REQUESTS OPEN)

Content: Headcannon/blurb? - yandere, implied murder, suggestive themes,

𖹭 As an enforcer your relationship with Vi always had to be "strict"— small conversations through the cell bars were about as good as it got. 𖹭 You supposed it wasn't really a relationship, but you had a gut feeling; the way her eyelids dropped almost seductively, the subtle shift in her posture whenever you'd walk past her cell, or maybe the way she promised you meant the world to her... and that if you just let her out, she'd be all yours. 𖹭 Foolishly you declined, she'd been begging to see her sister almost her entire stay here, or at least that's what you'd been informed, she promised to love everyone here at this point, though, a selfish part of you liked to believe she meant it. 𖹭 You defended her pretty fights with other inmates, patched up her cuts, and cleaned over her bruises. 𖹭 Christ, she'd even call for you sometimes, just to talk.. it was almost endearing how close the two of you were, despite the circumstances. 𖹭 And before you could even start to rethink her offer, that... Kiramman girl took her from you, and Vi simply slipped out of your hands. 𖹭 You'd see her occasionally, whether it was wandering the streets of Zaun, or even stopping by drug stores for cheap tattoos. 𖹭 And she always had that- blue-haired bitch with her too, it was infuriating! You spent all that time building a bond, a relationship, and she just- took her? you couldn't take it, you wouldn't take it. 𖹭 Your heart ached every time you saw the two in public, it wasn't fair! All you could feel was this nagging urge to confront Caitlyn, tear her into two whilst making sure it was known who Vi belonged to. 𖹭 But you can't resist for long. 𖹭 The girl's disappearance was quickly spread, she was "Piltover's finest" after all, she couldn't just go missing... 𖹭 The money you'd be paid for "finding her" was a rather large deal, but you easily decided that keeping her securely locked up in your attic was more suiting. 𖹭 Despite Vi's initial reaction, pitifully trying to defend herself and Caitlyn, throwing those useless punches you'd practically memorized by now— you managed to convince her with the promise of seeing her sister. 𖹭 And after that she even helped clean up the blood that had slowly stained into the walls, tear off missing posters, and if you persuaded her enough... even dig a hole or two!

i hope this did the idea justice!

[rs-hawk]

merfolk with any other inhuman race pls! like, merfolk always thought they would marry a human and decides to take matters in their own hands by going to the surface, only to be captured by an orc's fishing net, or a minotaur finds them before a human does...

Ohh I love this<3 Going with a Selkie because they’re so hot and I love them

Happy Earth Day: Post Six

Marseili had always been fascinated with human culture. Despite her fears of being trapped on the land forever, there were times she couldn’t help herself but hide her seal skin and look around the land. That was what she was on her way to do that day. Swimming eagerly towards the shore. She didn’t even notice the fishing net spread out along the reef until it was too late.

She slammed into the net, tangling herself instantly. Panic started to set in as she struggled to untangle herself, but her seal flippers were useless. The idea of taking off her skin crossed her frantic mind, but the idea of dropping it and it being lost to the sea forever was too terrifying to risk- even if it meant being caught. At least a human wouldn’t destroy her skin so she had a chance to find it later.

As she was tugged up in the net, she was surprised not to see a human- but an Orc. Typically Orcs didn’t like to be on the sea, and yet there he was, tugging her closer and closer to the boat. When he saw her, still in her seal form, he grunted.

“Wee dumb thing. Didn’t wantae catch yin o' ye,” he muttered as he tugged the net up and caught sight of her.

With surprising tenderness, he untangled her from the net. Careful of her flippers and whiskers. Marseili’s heart was pounding in her chest as his rough, weathered hands gently moved against her slippery skin. Once she was free, a small smile tugged at the corner of the orc’s lips.

“Thare ye gang, wee dumb thing. Ye'r jammy ye'r cute,” he chuckled, patting her seal head before returning to the fish on the net. He picked one up, tossing it at her. “Thare yer. Noo git.”

She caught the fish easily in her mouth, but she had no intention of leaving. Instead she quickly swallowed down the fish before jumping back into the water, but she watched the orc closely. Over the next few weeks, she would follow his boat to and from the shore. Almost every day he went fishing, bringing back fresh fish to sell at the market. He had noticed her following him too, and had begun greeting her in the morning and bidding her a good night every evening.

One day, she swam into his net again so he’d have to pull him up. When he did and saw her, he laughed heartily. A deep, low rumbling laugh that made his face seem younger, softer. “Mah dumb wee thing! Whit urr ye daein'?”

Just like before, he softly untangled her from the net, his hands soft and kind against her wet skin. Also just like before, he turned to grab a fish to toss at her. However, this time instead of a seal, he saw a beautiful woman standing in front of him, sheepishly holding a seal skin against her body to give some sense of modesty.

“Weel, ah be damned,” he said lowly, his dark eyes roaming over her figure. “A selkie then, eh?”

“Yes,” Marseili said softly, biting her lower lip as she looked up at him through her long, thick lashes.

“Then why'd ye keep getting caught in mah net? ye lot ur tae smart fur that,” he asked as he walked up to her, handing her the fish still in his hand.

“Ah think ye'r cute, 'n' crakin'. Ah wanted tae blether tae ye properly,” she mumbled, a smile creeping across her face as his large hand caught her chin, tilting it up so he had to look up at him.

“Then blether, mah cute wee thing,” he said, his tusks nearly catching her cheeks as he leaned in.

Through all of this, he made no move to grab her seal skin. Made no move to grab or trap her. She knew that she didn’t want a human anymore-she wanted an orc.

Like my writing? Check out my Ko-fi and Patreon

[differentpostrebel]

Lost and Found: a Pirates Promise

Chapter 62.5 part 1: Ichiji and Pudding

A/N: I am officially back after some time away, as some may know, I needed to take some time away from writing since my grandfather had passed away. We were able to fulfill his last wish, and also take some time for myself. I won't lie, I really missed writing and I missed the little community I built from this series, and I have so many ideas, like when I tell you the ideas were flowing!! But for this chapter it's the same as I did Doflamingo, so, it'll be a bit long as we have two characters, Ichiji and Pudding as they both played a part for the whole cake arc. But for this we will go more in depth, we will see a side of pudding where we see why she was the way that she was with y/n, when she was brought to the arranged marriage with Ichiji as well as the real plan behind it all. Remember everything is connected. I'll drop this chapter in parts since this is all Ichiji and his recount as well as his POV... and then I'll do pudding, and then we hit wano! Trust me once we get to Wano... heheh

And without further ado, let the adventure begin!

Ichiji’s POV: Weeks before the arranged marriage between Sanji and Y/N

“I don’t understand why Father insists we watch this broadcast from Caesar,” I muttered, already bored.

“Lighten up, brother,” Yonji laughed, leaning back in his seat. “You never know—maybe it’ll actually help us with Germa’s next move.”

Niji chuckled as he strolled into the room with a tray of whiskey glasses, handing them out. “Father and his grand plan to conquer the North Blue again… yet he still can’t catch a clue.”

I took a sip. “Exactly.”

“Who cares!” Niji barked out a laugh, settling into his seat.

The video transponder snail flickered before displaying Caesar Clown, voice echoing through the room. “And last, but certainly not least… we have Princess Y/N.”

“Ha! A princess!” Yonji snorted.

“She’s quite the looker, isn’t she?” Caesar said, turning to his audience with an oily grin.

Just then, I watched as you—defiant and regal—spat directly at Caesar.

“Ohh, this one’s got claws,” Niji laughed in amusement.

“I can’t wait for you to die,” Caesar sneered, wiping his face.

“Careful, Caesar,” you said smoothly, a smirk playing on your lips. “My captain doesn’t take kindly to threats.”

“…Y/N,” I whispered, unable to hide the shift in my tone.

Suddenly, the video feed cut out.

“Shit! Bring it back!” I shouted, leaning forward.

“Relax,” Yonji said, though his eyes sparkled with interest—and something else. He wasn’t the only one. Niji’s gaze remained locked on the blank screen, heart-eyes practically glowing.

Hours passed.

Finally, the screen flickered back to life.

“Finally!” I exhaled sharply.

“And for all you brookers out there, get ready for the ride of your lives,” Y/N’s voice rang out, confident and wild. She floated effortlessly, sword gripped in her right hand as she clashed with that snow harpy—Monet.

“Damn, she’s strong,” Niji muttered in awe.

But then—Monet’s claws slashed deep into her side.

Y/N gasped.

“Any last words, harlot?” Monet sneered, fangs bared.

Before she could strike again, a familiar, frustrating voice cut through the chaos.

“Raaaah! Save those kids!” Sanji’s voice.

Our failure of a brother.

“Why are those marines answering to you?!” shouted one of the crewmates near Y/N—probably one of Sanji’s useless stragglers.

“Idiot! Can’t you see Y/N’s in trouble?!” the same crewmate yelled again, snapping Sanji’s attention.

Y/N clenched her left hand—flames erupted, engulfing Monet in a blaze. She staggered, bleeding but unyielding, as she made her way toward Sanji.

“Would you two quit it? I would’ve died if it wasn’t for that distraction—Sanji and those marines,” she grumbled, pressing Sanji’s extended toe against her wound like a makeshift bandage.

“Looks like our little brother’s got a thing for her,” Yonji laughed.

“Too bad,” I muttered, eyes narrowing.

Because I had already made up my mind.

She wasn’t just strong—she had fire. Drive. Worth. She wasn’t some pawn in one of Father’s pathetic alliances.

“She’s more than fit to be my wife,” I declared coldly, standing up.

Yonji and Niji turned toward me in surprise.

“It’s time I paid Father a visit,” I continued. “Sanji’s already being handed off to one of the Charlottes. What’s another wedding?”

Without another word, I turned and strode toward the door.

This time, I’d make the arrangements.

This time, I would choose.

I stormed into Father’s quarters, the heavy doors slamming shut behind me. Judge barely looked up from his glass of wine.

“And why the hell would I send one of my greatest sons to marry some pirate?” he scoffed, swirling his drink.

“She’s not just a pirate,” I replied coldly, stepping forward and tossing the wanted poster onto his desk. “She has drive, fire, a bounty that demands attention—and a title. Look at her face. Read her name.”

Judge’s eyes narrowed as he leaned in. The moment he saw the poster, the wine slipped from his lips as he spat it out in shock.

“It… it can’t be…” he muttered, staring at it like he’d seen a ghost.

“Can’t be what?” I asked, stepping closer. But Judge simply shook his head, jaw tight, dismissing the thought.

“You want a wedding, son?” he said after a tense pause, already reaching for the transponder snail. “You got it.”

I stood in silence as he dialed.

“Big Mom,” he said into the receiver, “it’s Judge. We’ll be having two weddings that day.”

“The hell you mean two weddings?!” came Linlin’s booming voice.

“I’ll send you a picture and some… details,” Judge replied cryptically. “You’ll understand why.”

He hung up and let out a low breath, eyes distant.

“Give me a few minutes alone, son,” he said finally. “In the meantime, prepare yourself. I’m sending you to some of the lesser countries to collect protection fees. Consider it a test of diplomacy before the ceremony.”

I didn’t respond, only gave him a nod before turning on my heel.

Whatever secret Father’s hiding about Y/N… I’ll find out.

But first, I had a wedding to prepare for—and a bride to claim.

A few days passed in routine: missions with Niji, skirmishes, negotiations, and silent brooding over the wedding to come. But before departing for Bro-coli Island, I returned to Father's quarters in the Germa Kingdom.

One of the maids—a persistent one, a former conquest I hardly remembered—fluttered behind me, practically tripping over herself to stay in my line of sight.

“Were you able to secure the dresses I ordered? And the accessories, wines, shoes, flowers?” I asked without turning to look at her.

“Yes—and yes,” she replied eagerly, voice too hopeful.

“Good. Be sure the reports are on my desk when I return. My fiancée will be thrilled.” The way her face fell, you’d think I’d struck her.

I checked my watch, calculating time before departure. “I still have a few minutes to kill. Maybe I’ll swing by Chocolat Town—pick up some sweets. Maybe the ring’s ready too.”

“Oh—Ichiji,” Father called from behind his desk. “Almost forgot. Your fiancée has arrived in Chocolat Town. At least that’s what one of Big Mom’s soldiers reported.”

I paused. Fiancée. Chocolat Town.

The words echoed like fate whispering in my ear.

“She is of great importance,” Father added, his voice a command now. “Don’t screw this up.”

But I was already halfway out the door, smirking.

“Excellent. I’ll grab what I need—and her ring.”

The moment my boots touched the polished cobblestone of Chocolat Town, the air changed. Sugar and syrup lingered in the wind, but the usual hustle died into whispers when they saw me. Raid suit off, I walked with purpose.

White dress shirt—tight and crisp. Black slacks—creased and sharp. Shades—on. Presence—undeniable.

Shopkeepers trembled behind counters, their fear amusing but expected. I scanned the square, searching.

And then I saw her.

Short corset white dress, frilled sleeves catching the sun like silk. White heels. A headband perfectly placed over hair that glistened with effortless strength. She wasn’t just dressed like a bride—she looked like a storm disguised in lace.

She was focused on her purse, not the path ahead. I saw the direction she was heading. The chocolate fountain.

“Of course,” I muttered, already moving.

She stumbled— —but before she could fall, I caught her by the waist.

“Careful,” I said smoothly, eyes locked on hers behind my shades. “Wouldn’t want to ruin the dress. Not before I get to see you walk down the aisle in it.”

Her eyes widened—was it recognition? Surprise? Whatever it was, the moment was ours.

"You're right; we wouldn’t want that now, would we?" she replied, laughing—a light, genuine sound that made something shift in my chest.

I chuckled as well, the sound coming more naturally than I expected.

"Well, I better be heading back to the café. Thanks for the save back there," she said, a soft smile on her lips as she turned to leave.

But I wasn’t ready to let the moment end.

“Wait!” I said, reaching out to gently grab her wrist.

She paused, brow slightly raised in surprise.

“Why don’t I take you back?” I offered, my tone lighter than usual. “That way, you don’t trip into any more chocolate.”

Y/N raised her eyebrow, the hint of amusement in her eyes dancing. She glanced at my hand on her wrist and slowly moved to free herself.

“If you want,” she said, voice teasing but calm.

And just like that, we walked side by side through Chocolat Town, the sugary air thick with tension neither of us acknowledged.

I kept stealing glances at her—at how the dress hugged her form, how the breeze caught her hair, how the sunlight seemed to chase her with every step.

The silence between us wasn’t awkward. It was… comfortable. Strange, but welcome.

“Is everything alright?” I asked, noticing how her gaze lingered on my features. A soft blush escaped her before she quickly looked away.

“Everything is just fine,” she said, her voice calm but warm—reassuring.

We finally reached the café. She paused at the entrance, turning to face me.

“Well, this is it… Oh, I almost forgot!” she said suddenly. Then, before I could react, she leaned in and pressed a light kiss to my cheek.

“Thank you for walking with me,” she said, eyes sparkling, lips curved in a small smile.

I stood there frozen, stunned into silence, watching as she disappeared back inside the café.

A slow smirk crept onto my face. “No problem… fiancée,” I murmured under my breath, touching the spot where her lips had been.

I turned on my heel and headed further into Chocolat Town, my next stop already in mind: the jeweler’s. It was time to pick up the engagement ring.

But just as I reached the storefront, my transponder snail began ringing. I sighed and answered.

“What is it, Niji?”

“Where the hell are you?!” Niji barked. “We’re supposed to be on our way to Bro-coli Island right now!”

I glanced toward the café one last time, that smirk still tugging at my lips.

“I’ll be there,” I said coolly. “Had some important business to handle first.”

“Whatever, just don’t keep me waiting, Ichiji!”

He hung up before I could reply. I slipped the snail back into my pocket and entered the shop.

The ring was ready.

And so was I.

A few days passed, and we had finally made it to Brocoli Island. The mission was swift—whatever problem they were having, Niji and I handled it without breaking a sweat. Another failed rebellion, another empty threat. We collected our payment, watched the locals tremble in gratitude or fear—it hardly mattered.

But my mind? It wasn’t here.

No, my thoughts had already drifted back to Chocolat Town. To her.

The way her dress hugged her frame, the soft curls that framed her face, that delicate smile right before she kissed my cheek… it all played over and over in my head like a loop I didn’t want to escape from.

I found myself staring into the distance as Niji kept ranting about the pathetic state of Brocoli’s defenses.

“You even listening?” he snapped.

“Not really,” I replied coolly, smirking as I adjusted my gloves. “I have better things to think about.”

Niji raised an eyebrow. “Still thinking about that pirate chick, huh? You’re whipped already.”

“Watch your mouth,” I warned, my tone dropping low. “She’s not just any woman. She’s my fiancée.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t go soft on me. We’ve got another mission after this.”

I nodded absently, already walking toward the ship. “Let’s finish up. I want to get back before the ring loses its shine.”

As we departed Brocoli Island, the wind picked up around us. I stood on the deck, one hand in my pocket, the other resting on the railing.

Soon, I thought.

Soon, she'd be mine—and no one, not even Sanji, would stand in the way of that.

Just then, my transponder snail rang.

“The wedding is in nine days. We could make it back in two,” I said, tone calm, eyes narrowed.

“What about Sanji?” I asked.

“He’s already here,” came the reply from the other end.

I smirked. “Good. Be sure to prepare my room. Make it fit for my betrothed—understand?” I said, already picturing Y/N in white, not just the dress in Chocolat Town, but the one she’d wear walking down the aisle. Mine.

“And Sanji…” I paused, savoring the thought. “I can’t wait to see him.”

“Is that a joke?!” Niji said, scoffing as I ended the call.

“I can’t wait to see that failure’s face when he realizes I’m marrying his crewmate… and his crush,” I muttered, smirking.

Niji let out a loud, mocking laugh. “That’s cold—even for you.”

“If you need me, don’t bother,” I said, brushing past him as my boots echoed across the Germa ship’s steel floors.

Once inside my quarters, I activated my raid suit’s retract mechanism. The mask dissolved, the armor retreating into the capsule, leaving me in just black joggers and a sleeveless undershirt. I looked up at the ceiling, hands behind my head, the soft hum of the ship the only sound now.

“I can already see it… her beside me, ruling beside me. Even if she resists at first, the wedding is set. And thanks to Big Mom’s intel, we have someone important to her—likely the reason she came in the first place. To cancel the marriage. To save her crewmate who happens to be a failure of a brother, which is probably why she’s with only a few members from her crew, along with her captain.”

I chuckled darkly.

“She’s walking right into the lion’s den. And when the doors close behind her, there won’t be a way out.”

We finally arrived at Whole Cake Island after the two-day voyage. Donning my raid suit once more, I met with Niji on the deck. All I wanted now was to disembark and ensure everything was prepared for Y/N.

“Still daydreaming about your little princess?” Niji teased, elbowing me with a smug grin.

“Mind your own business,” I shot back, though a smirk tugged at my lips despite myself.

Cheers from Germa soldiers erupted as we stepped onto the landing platform. Their voices rang out, echoing across the grand entrance of the kingdom.

“Welcome back, Master Ichiji!”

“Congratulations on your engagement!”

“You two are made for each other!”

Each shout fueled my pride. Their respect was a reflection of my strength, my future, my claim. Whether Y/N wanted the marriage or not—frankly, that was irrelevant now. Especially when we held someone she’d die to save.

“Master Ichiji! Master Niji! It’s been too long!” another soldier beamed.

“I still can’t believe you two ended that mess at Broccoli Island so fast!”

“Why isn’t he coming out to greet us?” Niji asked, glancing around with mild annoyance. “Where is he?”

“Knock it off,” I muttered, irritation rising. The last thing I needed was talk of him.

As we made our way into the castle, the air thickened with anticipation. Everything was falling into place.

“Hey, Father! We’re back!” I called, stepping into the massive dining hall.

“Excellent work, Ichiji. And you too, Niji,” Judge boomed from his throne, his presence as commanding as ever.

“Have the arrangements been made like I asked?” I asked, gaze sharp as it cut toward one of the handmaids.

“Yes, young master. Allow me to retrieve the documentation,” she said with a practiced curtsy, eyes fluttering far too long on mine.

“Tch,” I muttered. The sycophantic flattery grated.

“Where is he?” Niji asked again, voice louder this time.

The answer came with the echo of heels.

“Right here,” Reiju said coolly, stepping into view.

Trailing behind her was Sanji.

“Sanji!” Niji burst out. “Wow, you really didn’t die. Look at you—still breathing!”

His laugh cracked through the tension like a whip.

I said nothing. I didn’t need to. My eyes locked onto Sanji, calm, unreadable. He looked unchanged—same infuriatingly composed stare, hands in his pockets like none of this mattered.

But I could see it—the moment his eyes flicked toward me. The hint of something deeper beneath the surface.

Good, I thought. Let him watch. Let him squirm.

Because soon… he’d see the ring.

And soon… he’d realize who it was for.

“Don’t you want to congratulate Ichiji on his marriage to Princess Y/N?” Niji taunted, his voice loud and gleeful. “I mean, she is your crewmate and all…”

I chuckled, slow and deliberate, enjoying how the tension thickened like fog in the room.

Our father turned toward me, curiosity twinkling in his usually cold eyes. “Ichiji, have you had the chance to see her yet?”

“I have,” I replied, cool and composed. “Back in Chocolat Town. She was wearing a short white dress.”

I paused, watching Sanji from the corner of my eye.

“She looked… exquisite,” I added, my voice dipping to something darker. “Like an angel among mortals.”

Sanji didn’t speak, but his fists clenched at his sides. Perfect.

I leaned back, smirking. “The way it fit her… it was impossible not to imagine her walking down the aisle in it.”

Sanji’s jaw tightened, and that little flash of pain in his eyes—that was the reaction I was after. I could almost taste the victory on my tongue.

Reiju stepped forward with a forced lightness in her tone. “Have you told her yet?”

“Not yet,” I replied, feigning patience. “But I will. Soon. And it’ll be something she’ll never forget. She’ll know just how lucky she is.”

Sanji snapped.

“Why are you so obsessed with this?” he barked. “It’s not what she wants!”

The room fell silent.

My smile didn’t waver.

“She agreed to the wedding, didn’t she?” I said smoothly. “She came all this way. Maybe you should ask yourself why.”

Sanji’s breathing was heavy now, chest rising and falling. I could see it—the doubt, the fury. And I relished every second.

Because no matter what he said… the wedding was happening.

“You arrogant bastard,” Sanji snapped, stepping forward. “Like she’ll ever agree to this arranged marriage—this fake fantasy of yours!”

I didn’t flinch. His outburst only fueled my pride.

“You’ll see soon enough,” I said with a cold smirk, letting his rage bounce off me like nothing.

Time passed, and eventually, we were all seated at the long dining table. Plates clattered, wine poured, and despite the tension, our father insisted on a formal meal.

“Let’s talk about something pleasant, shall we?” Reiju said, trying to cut through the heaviness. She leaned in slightly, resting her chin on her hand. “Ichiji, let’s see the ring. I heard it’s the same one Y/N tried on back in Chocolat Town.”

With a quiet chuckle, I pulled the small velvet box from my pocket and opened it slowly. The light caught the gem just right, making it glow with a deep, blood-red gleam.

“Red ruby,” I said, letting the words linger. “Rare—just like her. With diamonds surrounding it.”

I turned the box slightly so they could all see.

“Elegant. Strong. A symbol of everything she is… and everything she’ll be as my wife.”

Sanji’s knife clattered against his plate, the sound sharp and sudden.

But I didn’t look at him.

I just smiled at the ring.

And thought of her.

“It looks beautiful,” Reiju said, her voice soft but laced with something sharper. She tilted her head, eyeing the ring before looking straight at me with a knowing smirk. “But… will she love you?”

The question hung in the air like a blade.

Sanji stiffened beside her, his jaw tightening. He didn’t need to say anything—his silence screamed louder than words.

I leaned back in my chair, not missing a beat. “Love can grow,” I said coolly, locking eyes with her. “She’ll come to see what’s best for her.”

Reiju raised a brow, unconvinced. “Or maybe she already knows… and that’s the problem.”

That earned a few glances around the table, but I didn’t falter.

“She will love me,” I said, the calm in my voice hiding the edge beneath it. “She just doesn’t know it yet.”

The glint in Sanji’s eyes darkened as he shot back, “You can’t force love, Ichiji. She deserves someone who truly cares for her.”

“Of course, and that someone is me,” I countered, relishing the challenge. “Soon, everyone will see how perfect we are together.”

Reiju sighed, sipping her wine as if she’d seen this argument a thousand times before.

Our father straightened in his seat, commanding the room with ease. The noise settled. “Enough. Let’s focus on what matters.”

He cleared his throat, folding his hands behind his back as he looked toward me and Niji. “The fall of the Bro Coli regime has sent waves across the region. With Doflamingo defeated and no longer supplying weapons, they crumbled faster than anticipated. A significant victory for Germa.”

A murmur of approval circled the table.

“And as I last recall, Ichiji,” Father continued, his voice carrying a note of intrigue, “didn’t your fiancée… face Doflamingo? Even defeated one of his top executives?”

That sparked a flicker of surprise even in Niji.

“If the rumors are true,” Father went on, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully, “then she truly is her... those rings and weapons…”

“What the hell is he on about?” I thought, my smile faltering just slightly. But I pushed the thought aside. Whatever obsession or memory he was chasing didn’t matter.

“She truly is remarkable,” I said aloud, voice steady, gaze fixed ahead. “Strong, beautiful, destined for something greater. She belongs with us.”

Sanji remained silent now, but his clenched jaw said more than his words ever could.

“She truly is remarkable,” I said aloud, voice steady, gaze fixed ahead. “Strong, beautiful, destined for something greater. She belongs with us.”

Sanji remained silent now, but his clenched jaw said more than his words ever could.

Yonji, lounging as always, took another bite of his bread, his smirk deepening. “If she's anything like she was when we first saw her during that broadcast, then I definitely should've called dibs first.”

I felt the shift in Sanji’s posture instantly, but I didn’t look his way yet.

Yonji went on, cruel amusement in his tone. “And if she's anything like what I just saw—wearing that short blue skirt and cropped tank back on that ship, showing off that body—man, I really should’ve made a move sooner."

My jaw tightened. I turned slowly toward him, tone cutting and cold. “Watch your mouth,” I warned. “She's still my fiancée, and I won’t tolerate any disrespect toward her.”

Yonji raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning like a fool. “Alright, alright. Just saying—”

“You’ve said enough,” I snapped, my voice low and deadly. The air thickened with tension.

Sanji suddenly pushed his chair back with a screech, shooting to his feet. “Wait, what broadcast?” His voice was tight, controlled, but barely.

Yonji laughed, leaning back in his chair, clearly savoring the chaos. “Oh, you didn’t know? Back at Punk Hazard, Ichiji here couldn’t keep his eyes off her when she fought that bird woman. It was a hell of a fight.” He let out a chuckle. “He was practically drooling over the screen.”

Sanji’s face contorted, veins visible along his temple. “So you’ve been watching her this whole time?” he growled, stepping forward, fists clenched. “You bastards were the damn brokers keeping tabs on her!”

Reiju stood suddenly, voice sharp. “Enough! All of you.”

But Sanji didn’t back down. “You don’t get to sit there and talk about her like that. She’s not some object to be passed around in your twisted little kingdom. She’s a person. She’s my—” He stopped himself, breathing heavily.

“She’s your what, brother?” I said calmly, rising to my feet now as well, the ring box still in hand. “Because last I checked, she’s not yours. She’s engaged to me.”

Sanji’s eyes locked onto the ring, that red ruby catching the light just so.

“This isn’t over,” he said, voice low and trembling with rage. “Not by a long shot.”

.

.

..

.

[brittle-doughie]

Hi Doughie!! Hope your having a wonderfull day/night! I just got this idea that i had to at least write out, what if (Y/n) was like Entrapta from the She-ra reboot!?

Maybe they are from one of the kingdoms that doesnt really have much technology or anything and it sorta makes them feel kinda useless (maybe theyre Cacaoian???) and theyre excitement over robots doesnt help them make and Friends that have simillar interests. So then they kinda get kidnapped by Dark Enchantress while trying to help out (and they maybe get left for dead but thats…. a little dark) and when someone (probably Caramel Arrow if theyre Cacaoian) proclaims that they are going to rescue (y/n) they sorta go „ Ohh thats nice of you!!….rescue me from what???“

Because as it turns out (y/n) has been living their Best life in that castle! Their allowed to create whatever they want,however they want and whenever they want! Its a Dream come true for them!!! (plus free Food!)

It’s going to be a chore to get this Y/N the tech they want to build all sorts of things, but it will be worth it when they make something useful for the CoD.