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kingkatsuki · 1 year ago

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— heatwave

I’m suffering through the heatwave over here, and Bakugou is the only thing that could make it better or worse.

Warnings: 18+, not proofread, Bakugou is your roommate, sweaty sex, dirty talk, spanking, creampie.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 3.8k.

“It’s too damn hot,” Bakugou growled as he lay the back of his head against the couch. Even the soft, worn fabric was uncomfortable against his back. Retaining more heat than necessary paired with his body temperature it had sweat pooling against his skin.

Life as an up and coming Pro-Hero had been rough. With long shifts, terrible hours and little pay he was stuck in this dingy, stuffy apartment. Waiting for the day he’d add an extra figure onto his paycheck to have enough to move out. Things like air conditioning were a lavish luxury that he couldn’t afford right now, so it meant suffering through the torridness with a small ice pack he’d grabbed from the freezer.

The only bonus was having a roommate like you.

Originally Bakugou had been adverse to living under the same roof as someone, unable to trust anyone living in close quarters with him. There was an entire cacophony of issues that could arise from picking the wrong person— from being kept up all night, the mess they could leave behind to having friends or hookups in his shared space.

But you had been a godsend, understanding of his unsocial work schedule and his house rules. You could even argue that you were a better roommate than he was, with his friends delighting in showing up unannounced and causing a mess in his apartment. Something that you were always so understanding of when you’d join them for movie nights or dinner.

You were a blessing. Or now that he thought about it, perhaps it was a curse. Now forced to watch you practically saunter around in the shortest short shorts known to man in a feeble attempt to try and deal with the extreme temperatures. Your top half not much better, the stringy vest top you wore— without a bra no less— exposed your midriff and the cute stiffened peaks of your nipples. Not that he was looking, and even if he was what did you expect him to do.

Rubbing sweat from his upper lip as he spreads his legs wide on the couch as you made your way into the kitchen, his crimson eyes roaming your figure as the shorts hugged the swell of your ass perfectly. Dipping in between the cheeks as he imagined pulling them apart to see what was hidden between them, the material dangerously close to revealing it to him anyway—

You were doing absolutely nothing to help quell the heat oozing through his body. In fact, Bakugou was certain you were making it worse. His cock jumping at the sight of you, pulsing beneath his shorts as his Adam’s apple bobbed. Praying that this sudden heatwave would cease and he could stop being tortured by the sight of you like this every damn day, it was bad enough when he’d catch peeks of you in a towel coming from the bathroom towards your bedroom, or forgotten panties left strewn around. But this? This was unbearable.

“I can’t deal with this heat,” The whiny tone to your voice had Bakugou silencing a growl deep in his chest, watching you hold the back of your hand to your forehead dramatically, “I wanna sit in the freezer.”

“Don’t you dare.” Bakugou knew from experience the heat alone would be enough to shut down the entire machine, and you both definitely didn’t have enough money to replace it if it did.

And that freezer was the only thing satiating the heat so far. Shoving his melting ice pack against his chest, the contents quickly changing form to liquid as he tried to make the most of it before it would have to go back inside the freezer.

“Let me feel,” You came around the couch to stand in front of him, his eyes set in a heavy glare as he tried to weigh up whether it was worth letting you feel how cold the pack was.

It was bad enough having you so scantily clad in such short proximity to him right now, certain he could now smell the saccharine of your perfume as you pulled the top of your vest down, exposing the swell of your breasts as you presented your sternum to him.

Bakugou pushes the pack to your chest and immediately regrets it when the sound you let out is downright sinful. You have to know what you’re doing to him, the way your lips curl into a delicious looking pout and your eyes roll to the back of your skull.

“Oh god, that feels so fucking good.” You moaned, eyes clenched shut to focus on the cool chill that slowly washed over your chest.

His cock jumps in his shorts as he tries to shift his hips to avoid you from noticing the now very evident bulge, the throb pounding through his veins as he feels a different kind of heat beginning to take over.

He should stop here, take his ice pack back and tell you to go and sit in front of your mini desk fan again. Get you out of the room and as far away as possible and save this for another day, a day when you’re both not delirious from the intense heat.

But his depraved thoughts have already consumed him, the thought of your plush body pressed against his while he slides his throbbing cock inside you now at the forefront of his mind as he presses the pack lower. Watching as you arch your back towards it, welcoming the cool chill as you lean forward to splay your sweaty palms against his thick thighs.

And whether he’s delirious from the heat, or it’s the desperate look in your eyes he doesn’t know. All he knows is he’s kissing you fiercely, the ice pack drops forgotten between your bodies in favour of grabbing your hips.

“Fuck,” You kiss him back, words swallowed by his chapped lips as you feel the bulge between his thighs press snug against your crotch.

Your hands reach up to card through messy blond spikes as your nails graze his damp scalp, your tongue swiped against his as he palms your ass. Calloused fingertips disappear beneath the flimsy fabric as he squeezes the fat of it, tugging you down against his hardness as he pulls more sultry sounds from your throat.

“It’s too hot for this, Katsuki.” You whine, breaking the kiss as you gasp for air in the humid room.

At this chance Bakugou’s lips venture lower, peppering kisses along your jawline towards your collarbones until he reaches the hem of your vest. Tugging the fabric down to reveal your round breasts, his tongue pokes out to wet his lips at the marvellous sight.

His nighttime fantasies can’t compare to the sight in front of him, crimson eyes shamelessly ogle your skin to commit the sight to memory as he leans forward.

“Shut up,” He rasps back gruffly while mouthing your breast.

You’re right, it’s entirely too hot for any kind of strenuous activity, especially when he’s sweating so much it already feels like he’s run a marathon. But the way your soft body feels pressed against his is too much to pass up. Especially when this is what he’s been dreaming about ever since he moved in with you, fisting his cock too. It’s too much to leave it to chance that he may get this opportunity again later. Bakugou’s always been a greedy man, and he wants to have you now.

“Fuck,” You cry out when his teeth graze your nipple, pushing your crotch against his with more urgency.

Certain you’ve leaked through the flimsy fabric, desire surges through you dense and fast. A stark contrast to your lethargic movements as you grind yourself down on his lap pathetically.

“Katsuki,” You whine.

His strong hands are doing all the work as he moves you how he pleases. Strong palms pick you up by the meat of your ass to drop you back down on his length. Grinding your puffy clit against his pelvis with each motion as he has you crying out in pleasure.

“Fuck, Katsu. S’too hot—”

You weren’t sure whether it was the humid air permeating the room or the way that Bakugou was looking at you with smouldering eyes that had your body aflame. Muggy, vapid air filling your lungs as clammy hands stroked along his bare torso. Mapping out a course of newly discovered territory as you let your thumbs brush against his pebbled nipples, his chest vibrating against your touch with more sultry groans.

“I know you are, sweetheart.” He hummed, his fingers brushing the crotch of your shorts, “Let me make you feel good.”

“Oh,” You gasped when you felt the calloused pads stroke your labia, involuntarily leaning forward to give him more space as Bakugou began to spread you apart for him. Fingers gliding through your messy folds, dragging your essence along your slit until he found your puffy clit.

The contact had you jolting forward, nails grazing his chest as he focused his attention on it. Circling it tentatively with the pad of his finger as you began to rock your hips back against him, uncaring about how debauched you looked as you began to seek your own pleasure.

“Yeah?” He rasped, and the gravelly husk did nothing but increase the desperation inside you, “You like that?”

“Fuck, please—“ You buried your head in the curve of his neck, your lips pressed against the slick skin as you tasted the saltiness of his sweat on your tongue.

“Please what, sweetheart,” He cooed.

“Please—“ You gasped when you felt his thumb press against your empty hole. He knew exactly what you wanted, he was toying with you.

“Tell me what you want.”

“Your fingers.” You were shameless, your hips grinding back against him as Bakugou finally took mercy on you and pushed his thumb into your sloppy entrance. The slightest penetration enough to drag a deep moan from your throat as he kept his focus against your clit, leaning his head back against the couch to try and see the blissful expression on your face as he worked you with precision.

“Got no damn idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this,” He husked against your ear, lips soft against the shell as you clenched around him in response, “Always walkin’ round in those fuckin’ short shorts got me wanting to bend you over every surface in this house.”

“Oh fuck,” You mewled, already feeling yourself teetering on the edge of your climax as he kept his pace constant against your clit, his thumb positioned to press against your spongy wall as his other hand tightened its grip on your ass. Spreading you open, as you found your bliss, “Katsuki.”

“That’s it, good girl.” He hummed, feeling your walls pulse around his digit as he kept his pace. Working you through your release as he pressed sloppy, wet kisses to your temple.

You’d lost count of the amount of times you’d wished the same, coming into the kitchen to see him still in full hero gear after work. Dirt and grime covering his body as his mask was pulled up over his forehead to show his blackened eyes, bending over to grab the carton of juice from the fridge as he held it up to his lips to chug it. Watching his Adam’s apple bob as the liquid flowed, giving you the perfect view of him as you tried to busy yourself to hide the fact you were blatantly staring.

Or the moments where he’d come out of the bathroom with a towel slung low on his hips to shout at you for using the taps in the kitchen while he was showering. The cheap apartment had one flow of hot water and it shut off that luxury whenever it was used elsewhere. The cold water catching him off guard as he glared at you, water droplets drooling down his perfect skin and making him look more like an ancient god or deity than your roommate.

“So why didn’t you?” You asked when you’d come down from your high.

“Huh?” Bakugou’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Why didn’t you tell me how you felt before.”

“I like livin’ with you,” He shrugged, “Didn’t wanna jeopardise that.”

“You wouldn’t have,” You smiled, pulling yourself back from his neck to meet his gaze, “I like you too.”

“That mean I can finally eat this pretty little pussy?” He groaned, shuffling his hips, “Been thinkin’ about it since the day I met you.”

“Later, please—” You pawed at the hard bulge between his thigh, his pre staining the fabric as you pressed against the tip.

“Fuck,” He grunted, shamelessly bringing his fingers to his lips to get a taste of you. His tongue sweeping against his digits to clean them of your slick, “Gonna take you over every damn surface in this house, princess.”

Your fingers curled into the hem of his shorts, Bakugou lifting his hips off the couch to help you drag them down just enough to free his heady cock— the sight of it better than you’d ever imagined in those nightly fantasies.

He was thick and long, bulging veins that forked along the length of him only made him seem that much more intimidating as his balls sat heavy at the base. Neatly trimmed blond hairs decorated his pelvis as they created a pretty trail along his abdomen, unable to resist running your hand along it as his stomach folded at the touch. A sharp hiss sucked sharp through his teeth as you wrapped your hand around him at the base, holding him steady so you could see the tip. The head a swollen pink as pre continued to bead at the slit, drooling down towards his frenulum as you moved to settle between his thighs. Wanting a taste of him yourself as you swiped your thumb over the leaky tip of his cock.

“Oi, I thought you said later,” He teased, rough hands steady on your hips to stop you from moving.

“Please,” You whined pathetically, “Wanna taste you.”

You brought your thumb to your lips as your tongue swiped at the surface, tasting him on your tongue as your lashes fluttered. Crimson eyes focused on your movements as his cock twitched in appreciation, tempted to let you do whatever you pleased. But he’d been waiting far too long for this moment, and there was no way he could wait any longer.

“You little minx,” He groaned as you sucked your thumb, “I promise later.” He groaned, tugging at your shorts, “Do you like these?”

“Yeah, they’re— what the fuck, Katsuki?”

You gasped when you heard the sharp sound of ripping fabric, “I said I liked them.”

“Sorry,” You could tell from the smug grin on his face that he was anything but as he positioned you above his leaky cock, “I gotta have you now.”

You held onto his shoulders as he wrapped a large fist around his cock, dragging the tip through your slick as he felt it catch against your tight entrance. His other hand on your hip slowly dropping you down onto his length as you felt the pleasurable ache of him stretching you open ebb through your pelvis.

“I got you, sweetheart,” He groaned, watching his cock slowly disappear inside you as he felt your warm walls wrap snugly around him, “Gonna take such good care of you.”

You felt hot, the heat radiating from your sex sweltering and yet you didn’t want to let go. The thick girth of his cock filled you perfectly as you felt him pressed against every ridge and groove of your cunt like he was made for you.

Your lips move together languidly, tasting the saltiness from his upper lip as you move together in tandem. Wet and sloppy while his tongue strokes yours, desperation evident by the way you try to deepen the kiss. As though you’re trying to melt into him, to feel him devour you whole.

“Oh, shit.” You choke back a cry when you feel the tip of his cock hit a spot deep inside you, certain you’ve never had something quite so big before.

You struggle to lift yourself up with your legs spread wide over his thick thighs as you grind yourself against his lap. Your clit catching against the trimmed hairs at his base as you roll your hips with desire, your chest pressed taut to his as you start a lazy pace. The scorching heat inside the apartment makes it difficult to breathe as you writhe in his lap, his warm breath fans against your skin almost feels cooler than the thick air clouding the room.

“Kats. It’s too hot.” You whine pathetically, your pace clumsy and sluggish as the desire inside you burns hot and heavy.

“You started this.” He retorts cockily with a smug smirk on his face.

“I did not.” You pout, “This is your fault.”

“Stop whinin’” He reaches back to bring his palm down on your ass in a rough smack, the sweatiness of his quirk has his skin tacking to you as it increases the sensation, clinging to your skin as you gasp in surprise. A painful pleasure courses through your veins as the skin prickles beneath his touch, your pliant walls clamping down around his girth in retaliation.

Without hesitating he reaches his large palms back to cup a cheek in each hand, lifting you up languidly as he marvels the glossy sheen your slick leaves on his cock.

“You just sit there and look pretty, let me do the work.” He spread is thighs wider, giving himself more air as he shifted your weight. Picking you up and dropping you down on his length as he listened to the pretty sounds that spilled from you like a siren, drawing him in and capturing his heart as you pulsed around him.

“Why couldn’t you have got an ice quirk?”

Clammy hands paw at his shoulders as Bakugou repeats the motion, skin tacking to skin as he bounces you on his cock. The kinetic energy builds heat swiftly and harsh as you feel the stickiness against your skin. Your wetness seeps out against his pelvis and matts the hair at his base, catching your clit with each drop of your hips.

“Shut the fuck up,” He scoffed, “You won’t be sayin’ that come winter.”

The thought of having his warm body to warm you during those cold winter months, still being with him then— had you clenching around him.

“Oh yeah? You like the sound of that?” He grinned, “Can feel this pussy clenchin’ around me.”

“Fuck, Katsuki.” The heat was becoming unbearable, radiating from your core as it burned molten lava. The coil inside you dangerously close to snapping as you danced on the crux of your release, gasping for air as he changed tact. Holding your hips tight under sweaty palms as he planted his feet flat on the ground, pistoning his hips up into your pliant sex, “There— oh, god. Right there—”

“That’s it,” He rasped, watching your tits bounce with each rapid thrust, “Fuckin’ beautiful.”

“‘m gonna cum,” You choked out between moans, feeling the curved tip of his cock drag against the spongy spot inside you with each thrust, “Oh shit—”

“Cum for me,” He growled, “Cum all over my cock.”

The tips of Bakugou’s thumbs pressed against your pelvis, tightening his grip as it only increased the pressure. Sweat trickling down your temples as he sent you vaulting over the edge into euphoria.

“Good girl,” He grunted, feeling your walls clamp down around his cock as you willed him to come with you, trying to milk him of his seed.

The pleasure was unlike anything you’d felt before, mind-numbingly intense as you cried out a jumbled mess of his name. Your nails digging crescent moons into his skin as he hissed beneath you, shamelessly searching for his own end as the heat radiated from your body. Sliding against each other from the sweat that now trickled down your skin, leaving a glossy sheen against you both as he used you for his own pleasure.

“I’m gonna cum,” Bakugou grunted, moving to lift you off his cock before you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, unbothered about the stifling heat in the room as you kept him tight against you.

“Cum inside me, Katsuki.” You gasped a he choked back a grunt, your words all it took to meet his own end.

His guttural moans are sinful, erotic as you cling to him with fervour. Committing the sensation to memory as though it’s the last time you’ll have him like this, as if the heat has him in this delirious state. And maybe it does—

You never thought Bakugou could look so pretty like this, completely vulnerable as he exposes his most intimate self to you. Thick, white spurts of cum spurt from his tip as he empties his balls inside you.

“Fuck, baby.” He breathes hot and heavy as you feel his chest rise and fall against yours.

Bodies slumped together on the couch as you feel the dampness of skin against skin, your vest that now sits useless around your waist is soaked and warm as the fabric clings to your body.

“I’m so sticky,” You whine childishly, making no attempt to move as Bakugou’s fingers trace absent-minded patterns along your exposed back.

“How the fuck dya think I feel?” He rasps, “My ass is stuck to the couch.”

“Eww,” You tease, running your nose along his collarbone as you take in the musky scent of him, “We’ll have to get another couch.”

He catches you by surprise as he presses the forgotten ice pack to the back of your neck, although it’s mostly melted it’s a stark contrast to your sweltering body as you flinch in surprise. Your cunt clenches around him at the sensation as Bakugou grunts from the attention.

“Oh shit, don’t do that sweetheart—“ He hisses, wrapping an arm around your back to hold you tight against him, “You’ll make me hard again.”

Something that you’re not sure you’d mind, even though your body is screaming out for a different kind of relief now. Desperate to cool your temperature down as you scrunch your nose in irritation.

“I feel so gross.” You complain as he gives your ass another playful spank as you barely move from the impact, your bodies stuck together with a mixture of heat and sweat.

“Got no one to blame but yourself, princess,” He groans, “I was just mindin’ my business until you came over in those little shorts.”

“You weren’t complaining when you were balls deep.” You moved your head back to glare at him.

“My balls feel like they’re on fire now,” He scoffs, leaning forward to peck your pouty lips, “Cold shower?” He asks, although he’s already decided he’s showering with you— he’s taking every moment he can with you now.

#Bakugou x reader #Bakugou smut #katsuki bakugou x reader #Katsuki bakugou smut

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youngtacoes · 6 months ago

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Strangers, no more

Cooper Howard aka The Ghoul x f!reader

Author's note: this is a long one !! i've had this scenario in my head for a long ass time and i just had to get it out on paper. cooper isn't as cruel in this one, sorry if that's not your thing, but he can be soft sometimes too! fyi: reader is 18+ and everything is consensual! If you're only here for the smut you can skip toward the end.

Word count: 6,8k

Summary: Cooper is a bounty hunter struggling for caps and you need to be transported safely across the wasteland in "good condition", luckily it pays well. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: 18+ Mentions of r*pe, impregnation & torture, religious cult, angst, virgin!reader, losing virginity, graphic smut

It was getting bad, really damn bad. Days of good-for-nothing bounty jobs, vial after vial, cough attack after cough attack. He needed the caps desperately if he was to keep himself from turning feral anytime soon. He’d been taking small jobs here and there, just enough to keep himself at bay for a few days, but he knew he couldn’t keep going at this rate for much longer. He needed a bigger job, a bigger cash prize, a bigger bounty, but every time he stopped by the wall of people with prizes attached to them, he found himself disappointed in how low the numbers were. That is until he notices a fresh face staring back at him, hidden behind newer posters, large letters displayed across. "BIG JOB", and this one has an even larger number attached.

He steps forward, pushing the other posts away and rips the new face off the wall to study the number closer. Yup, he read it right.

Five thousand caps.

"Well, I’ll be damned," he muttered.

A young girl, maybe in her 20s. She looks well put together, innocent, and has a sincere smile on her face. For the first time in a very, very long time, he found himself wondering what her story was and why she was worth so damn much, but he didn’t like to dwell on it for too long. A job is a job, and this was going to be worth every damn cap.

On the poster, it states that she was to get picked up at the coordinates provided and to keep her in "good condition". Well, shit, that might just be the hardest part. The ghoul had never been one to take care of his captives, and most often he preferred if the poster stated "good dead or alive". This was definitely going to be different, and if it wasn’t for the "good condition" detail, he’d almost think it was too good to be true. Perhaps even think it was a trap.

It’s midnight, and you’re seated by your desk with a pen in hand, drawing carefully and concentrated on making art on this dirty sheet of old newspaper, but it was good enough for you. You drew flowers and insects from an old pre-war book about nature and their hidden treasures. You were always fascinated by the pre-war times, and though you will never know what it was truly like, you liked to imagine who you would’ve been back in those times.

It’s your way of forgetting about the current state of your life and the predicament you found yourself in. You were born in the wasteland, to a mother who did her best to protect you, but in the end, she had been brutally murdered by a group of raiders who attacked your farm, and you were taken captive by them at the age of 9. You spent a few horrid days with them before your current group found you and bought your freedom from them.

To be fair, you’ve been treated quite well by this group, and you thought you had a family in them at one point. That was until a few months ago when they decided you needed to be isolated from the rest for reasons you still didn’t quite understand. The leader of the group, Margot, had carefully selected you for a special assignment, and made sure to tell you the isolation was for your own good. Apparently you needed special treatment before a long journey to a sacred place called Halfway that was waiting for your arrival.

Your fellow peers would come and visit you to show their excitement, though you didn’t quite understand it, it must be something good with all the positive buzz that’s surrounding you. So your head got filled with all sorts of scenarios and dreams of where you were going and what luxuries you were to experience on this assignment. Though you had your doubts that it was all just a coverup for something else, you didn’t have any reason not to trust your group. They had been nothing but kind to you as long as you’d been there.

You’re startled out of your thoughts by heavy knocks on your locked door and a command shouted from behind.

"Lights out!"

You sigh at the command. "Yes madam!"

You don't bother packing up your drawing supplies, you'll be continuing with it tomorrow anyway, and the day after, probably. You find your bed and blow out the nearby candles.

Every night you can't help but wonder when your assignment and journey would begin. You had all sorts of feelings and questions about it, but every time you tried talking to Margot, she would give you answers that didn’t really answer anything at all, so you gave up on trying to figure it out a long time ago.

The next morning you’re awaken rudely by the guards coming into your room and practically dragging you out of bed in your dazed state.

"Wha- HEY-" you try to muster what’s going on, but before even getting a word out, you’re on your feet and Margot stands before you with her hands on her back.

"Morning lucky one. It’s time, the day we have waited long for is finally here," She's so serious in her delivery, it almost frightens you.

It’s happening.

"We’ve hired someone to transport you safely across the wasteland for your assigment, they’re here and won’t be kept waiting. Get ready in 5 and say your goodbyes, quickly."

Suddenly it feels like it’s all happening too fast, and a slight panic rise inside you. Margot must've notices your panicked stare, cause her features soften, and she steps closer to you.

"You’ve come so far, and I’m so proud of you,» She smiles at you with encouragement, "This is your moment, and I know you will succeed and make us all proud."

Her words give you enough to calm down before the panic escalated. And you give her a nod that you indeed got this. You can do this. You’ve done hard things before, this shouldn’t be any different.

"Yes madam," you say smiling back at her. She flashes you one last smile and a wink before turning and walking back out.

Outside you find everyone from your group waiting in the corridors. They smile at you, some coming to greet you, give you kisses on the cheek as you’re led out of the main building by the guards. It’s all a bit much, but this must be pretty big deal. Margot waits for you by the gate to your commune, but she's not alone. A dark figure stands just outside, looking impatient.

You’re filled with scepticism as you walk up them, but you have to put your trust in her. She notices you and takes a hold of your hands with a smile.

"You will do great," And the wave of panic that had a hold of you before, washes off of you completely. You nod confidently now, and you start believing that this is actually gonna be totally fine.

You feel the dark figure moving closer to you, his hat covering his face just enough to keep him anonymous for the time being. He still looks terrifying, but you have to trust this man is here only to protect you on your journey to Halfway, and that he will do his best to do so.

Margot shoots the man one last look, "Good condition," the man still doesn’t show his face, but he nods.

"Yes ma’am. Let’s go princess," You realize he’s talking to you, and you’re startled by the nickname at first, but you decide not to fuzz, at least not yet. He’s already started walking away, so you find yourself running up behind him, waving back to your leader for the last time, only she doesn’t wave back, she doesn’t even flash a smile. She stares back at you with a stern look as the gates to the commune come to a close.

It doesn’t give you the best feeling, but perhaps she was feelings sad you were leaving and didn’t want to show any emotions. Either way, you try to push the sight out of your mind, doing your best to follow the stranger. He doesn’t say a word for a long time, and you find that maybe it’s best we keep to ourselves for the time being, but as an hour or so go by, you find yourself a little curious.

You clear your throat, "Excuse me, sir?"

He doesn’t reply, but shoots a quick look over his shoulder to indicate that he’s listening.

"How long do you think we’ll be walking for?"

Given that Margot had given you absolutely no information about this journey, you figured it was worth a shot to ask your new strange companion.

"Couple’a days, if we don’t get sidetracked," His voice ragged, western, serious.

"Oh," not really sure if you dared asking for further details. You’d prefer to keep it peaceful for as long as possible, but you find the courage to ask anyway.

"Sidetracked by what?"

You hear him sigh, "Unnecessary bullshit."

‘Whatever that means’ you think to yourself. He doesn’t seem like the talkative type, but after months of isolation you find yourself rather desperate for someone to talk to, and if you are to spend days with this man, you figure it’s worth a shot trying to get to know him for whatever time you have to spend together.

"I see.. I’ll be on the lookout for that I suppose."

You can barely believe your ears when you hear a chuckle coming from the stranger in front of you.

After that positive feedback, you find yourself braver.

"I didn’t catch your name?"

His posture changes after the question left your mouth.

"I didn’t give to ya,"

"Well, I’m Y/N, but everyone calls me Lucky. It’s a bit of a recent nickname though. You see, I just spend 6 months in completely isolation-"

You get cut off abruptly when you find yourself crashing into the strangers back, realizing he's come to an complete halt. He turns around, his figure towering slightly over you. His hat is no longer doing it’s job to cover his face, and utter horror washes over you as it's fully visable in the golden hour light.

"Listen sweetheart, I’m here to do this goddamn job. I don’t wanna hear your whole life story, and you sure as hell won’t be hearing mine. How about we keep our histories to ourselves and try to get this over with as quickly as fucking possible. That sound good to you?"

Your eyes aren’t able to leave his face. His sunken eyes, skin looking like it's been melted by the sun, an obvious nose missing. A ghoul, a ghoul is transporting you. You’ve not met a ghoul before, and those you’ve heard stories of have been grotesque. Fair enough they had been feral, but who’s to say this one won’t turn?

You get the gist of what he’s saying, and simply nod in agreement, not wanting to make this trip any more uncomfortable than it already is.

His eyes bore into your own, and he’s a lot closer than you’d prefer. For a second you think his eyes dart down to your lips before he turns around to keep walking, but that would be crazy, and very disturbing.

Nightfall comes fast, and you’re finding yourself worried for where you’ll be sleeping for the night. You really don’t wanna ask the ghoul, but your steps are getting shorter and slower, and you think the Ghoul have noticed cause he starts walking off track and leads you to a broken down abandoned house off the road.

"Stay here," he says before entering the house, gun up, ready to shoot. You do as he says and wait patiently for him to clear the coast. It doesn’t take long before you hear squealing and two shots being fired. You’re not sure whether to go in or run, but it doesn't matter anyway cause you freeze up completely in these situations. All you can do is hope that the ghoul knows what he's doing.

He comes back to the door a few minutes later, gesturing for you to come in, you’re hesitant, but you do. It's not like you have much of a choice anyway, "What was the shooting about?"

In his left hand he holds a dead radroach, and you find yourself wondering why he’s holding it. That's so fucking gross.

"You should be grateful. I got us some lunch the road," he says, flashing you a smirk. It's almost like he knew you’d be repulsed by it.

"Uhm, y’know what? I think I’m good, for the time being." You try to be nice, but you feel like you might not have a say in the matter. This might be the only food you get for a while.

"Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll make a fire and we’ll put it on the grill."

You want to roll your eyes and complain, but you force yourself to give him a smile and if anything, show some appreciation. He did in fact just catch you a meal.

You’re able to swallow some of the grilled radroach, but after the fresh foods you had grown accustomed to from your commune, you found this hard to stomach.

Nightfall has fallen completely now, and you’ve done your best to make a comfortable sleeping spot by the fire. The ghoul sits nearby keeping watch, and you find yourself very curious of his past and who he is, or who he used to be. Thinking back to his speech earlier about keeping your histories to yourselves reminds you not to ask, but he didn’t say anyting about asking about where you were going.

"What do you know about Halfway?" You watch him closely for any hints he migth give away, "Is it as grand as everyone makes it out to be?" You lay on your side, arm resting under your head.

He doesn’t look at you, eyes fixated on the fire. "How about you get some rest, alright?" he avoids your question. How annoying.

You turn to lay on your back with a puff of annoyance. «Nobody wants to tell me anything,"

"Maybe there's a reason for that."

You turn to look at him, his eyes still not meeting yours. "What is that supposed to mean?" By the sound of it, nothing good.

"Look it's not my job to inform you of shit, and if your leader wanted you to know, trust me darling, she would've told ya."

His eyes flicker up to look directly at yours this time, and it catches you off guard. Not knowing what else to say, you decide to turn to your side, away from him. This whole thing is giving you a really bad feeling.

You’re back on track the next day. Your legs sore from the day before. Having been in isolation for 6 months will do that to you, you guessed, but you'll manage.

The ghoul hasn't said a word yet today, and though you didn't exactly get the answers you were looking for last night, you refused to give up completely.

"What did Margot mean when she said good condition?"

He doesn’t answer, of course he doesn’t. You sigh,

"Look, I don’t mean to be annoying. Truly, I’d just like to know what is waiting for me. That’s all, and I really don't see the harm in that." Still nothing.

"Hey! It’s not kind to ignore someone when they're talking to y-" The ghoul quickly turns, a rope firm in his hands. Where did that come from? He grabs your hands, tying them together before you’re able to protest.

"Hey- what’re you doing!?" You look at him in disbelief, anger and panic all in one.

"Trust me, it’s for your own good," You laugh at that, yeah right. Before you’re able to mock him, he takes out a piece of cloth and wraps it around your head, specially over your mouth, and it's keeping you from saying what's on your mind. For a second you’re actually fearing for your life.

"Listen, gorgeous. We’re about to pass through some dangerous territory, and the people in these parts would do a lot to get their hands on a pretty litte thing like yourself. You follow my lead and keep your mouth shut, can you do that for me?"

You look for any lies in his eyes, but you genuinely believe him. It’s not like you can argue against him anyway, but you put your trust in him and give a nod in response.

You walk for a short while longer before you actually start seeing other people on your path. They seem rough around the edges. Hostile, but not aggressive, yet anyway. You walk past a few who seem to be intrigued, but not interested enough to take their chance at battle with the ghoul. That is until a few of them start gathering in front of you. Four men stand before your path, making it impossible to keep walking without confrontation.

"Gentlemen, how do you do?" The ghoul seems to do his best to keep it friendly, not wanting to create an unnecessary conflict with precious cargo at risk.

"What’ve you got for us ghoul?" As you observe, you can tell some of them are clearly on heavy combat inhancing chems, might be a harder fight if it comes down to it.

"Delivery, to Halfway. Can’t lose this one I’m afraid." He says it so confidently, completely standing his ground, but still keeping it non threatening. The men seem intrigued, and even exchange laughs between themselves. You wonder what they find so funny.

"That religious sacrifice place? What a lucky girl,"

"Seems like she’s up for a hell of a good time,"

"Fellas, if you don’t mind, we’re on a bit of a tight schedule," The ghoul tries to interrupt their 'friendly' chatter, but to no avail.

"They only take virgins up there don’t they? That’s like their whole point?" One of the guys ask the other three.

"Yeah, it’s some crazy religious cult. They torture them and impragnate them for like 10 years or something, or at least that’s what I’ve heard."

You freeze at their words. That can’t be it. That’s not what’s been told to you. They’re joking, making it up to scare you. It’s not true.

"Crazy rich though, you must be getting a lot of caps for this huh?" Suddenly their tone is not so friendly anymore, but the ghoul doesn’t budge. He keeps his hand on his holstered gun, the other holding the rope that binds your hands.

"Lucky for you, we’re not looking to take her off your hands. This time anyway," They laugh once more, patting the ghoul on his shoulder before walking off, letting you pass. He pulls on the rope to shake you out of your frozen state, and you jolst forward, trying to keep up with him. But you're disassociating, not paying a single mind to anything around you. You're too much in your head about what was just said, and you'd like to say you didn't believe a single word, but for some reason you do.

You keep walking in silence, time becomes irrelevant when you're all up in your head. You don’t notice the radstorm closing in, nor the rain that has already started pouring. If anything is in your favor, it's that you pass by a town with an abandoned pre-war hotel that offer a room for 100 caps a night. For whatever reason, the ghoul decides to do that for you. You don’t ask questions, you don't care to.

Soaked, shivering and your legs just barely keeping you up anymore, the ghoul places you down on the couch in the room given to you. You let him guide you, and for once, you're glad he doesn't have much to say. He lowers himself down in front of you and starts taking off the disgusting saliva soaked cloth from your mouth.

You wipe your mouth your hand, "Thank you."

He keeps his mouth shut and starts working on untying the rope from your hands. You watch him crouched before you, he's being gentle when removing the knots. A horrifying reminder of what you won't be experiencing at Halfway, if the men from earlier was telling the truth that is. This thought is what breaks you, and the tears start trickling down your tired face. There's no point holding it back anymore.

He's looking at you, so clearly trying to hide the concern on his face as he stands up and walks to the door.

"I’ll head down to the square to look for some food,"

Whatever.

Your silence is making him uncomfortable, so he leaves. You stay seated, replaying the words spoken between the men from earlier, over and over in your head.

Everyone you knew had made Halfway seem like such an amazing place. That you were lucky to be going, you were chosen. The thought makes you want to throw up.

You don’t register that the ghoul is back, fresh mutfruits placed in front of you on the coffee table, and though you are starving, you can’t bring yourself to even eat one.

"Eat," he says sternly. You just shake your head.

"M’not hungry," you sniffle, drying your tears with the palm of your hand.

"It’s not nice to lie, sweetheart. You haven’t had anything to eat since the damn radroach. Eat," He's trying to act concerned, but you don't believe it for a second. You scoff and look up to meet his eyes, and he’s looking right back at you, an annoyed expression on his face. You can’t believe this guy.

"Why do you care if I eat or not? Let me be," You're so tired, and all you want is to sleep. Gradually rising from the couch, you head towards the bed.

"Please," his plead makes you stop in your tracks.

"Please eat, you're really gonna need the strength," he seems desperate, almost.

You turn around to see him standing motionless by the coffee table, clearly attempting to compose himself.

"No," you're stern in your reply.

He's growing increasingly annoyed, angry even, because he knows he can't force you or harm you in any way.

"Whatever good condition means, I’m sure they'll be pleased as long as I’m alive, right?" Your voice gradually getting louder. "Being that their plan is to torture me for 10 years and all, they must have lots of stimpacks around to keep me alive enough to birth their whole next generation of psychos, don't you think?" Tears start falling.

"Don’t make me beg again," His eyes are shut, as if he's trying to block out your words, as if they affect him somehow. what a fucking joke.

"You’re so afraid you won’t get your paycheck. Well fuck you, and fuck the caps they’re paying you for this," you say it with so much pain and hatred, and you’re sure you’ll regret it later but you don’t have an inch of fuck to give at the moment.

Suddenly you see his angry features fall, and he catches himself in a cough. It's grotesque, and it seems to be getting worse with each one. He looks at you with disrepair, and you can tell he's struggling to catch his breath. You don't know what to do, but you're getting scared for him now. It looks horrifying, but before you're able to come to his aid, he scurries out the room.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. What just happened? A part of you wanted to run after him to make sure he was okay, but at the same time you wouldn't mind too much if he left and never came back. Shaking, you decide to tuck yourself into the left side of the bed. Trying not to think about how dirty it is, you curl yourself into a ball and cry out every last drop.

You’re never able to fall asleep, the tears just keep coming. You thought about running away, but knowing that the ghoul was getting paid a lot for this job, he would likely find you again in no time. What would be the point?

Your sobs are suddenly interrupted by the door opening, and you quiet yourself down to listen closely to every sound. The sound of the ghouls boots scraping the floor as he makes his way to the couch, his coat and gear getting thrown down on it. You decide to pretend that you’re already asleep as you hear him make his way to the bed. Feeling it dip slightly as he lay down in it.

But your cover is blown when you sniffle from the snot in your nose. You damn yourself as a sigh from the stranger fills the room, and you start feeling embarrassed about the way you treated him earlier. It’s not him you should be angry at, if anything it’s Margot and your group. The ghoul is just doing his job, to collect a price which he must need desperately, you can’t really blame him. He owes you nothing.

"Cooper," his raspy voice turned soft for a second.

"What?"

"My name is Cooper, some call me Coop. Whichever rolls of your tongue the best."

You feel awful now, "I’m sorry," Wiping away the tears and the snot to the best of your ability.

"For what sweetheart?" He sounds like he already knows what you’re apologising for, but decides to ask anyway for his own amusement.

"For cursing you out, it’s not your fault, and I shouldn’t blame you," You say, already feeling better for apologizing.

You both stay silent for a while, only sniffles from your nose filling the room. It’s embarrassing, you feel like such a child.

"C’mere darling," He says it in such a soft way. You can barely believe your ears. Looking over your shoulders you see him looking at you, only the dim light of a burning candle nearby to light your surroundings. He’s on his back, gesturing with his hand for you to lay in the crook of his arm. You contemplate it for a second, but it doesn’t take much convincing if you’re being honest. You’d take any form of comfort to make you forget this whole thing, even for just a night.

You turn around, inching closer under the sheets, finding a comfortble spot in the crook of his neck, your head resting on his arm. You’ve never been this close to someone except your mom when you were younger. It’s scary in a way, being this vulnerable and intimate with someone you barely know.

Your breaths are shallow, thoughts racing through your mind and it’s making your heart is beat so fast. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, his body doesn’t give anything away.

You lay like this for a while, just a few dry sniffles and breaths heard between you. You recognize the closeness of him.

But you want to get even closer. You want him wrapped around you and have him absorb your whole being. It may come from having learned that you have extreme trauma waiting for you, and you can’t help but want to experience something good and genuine before that.

Your breaths become heavier, deeper, and you feel yourself wanting something; wanting him. This could go terribly wrong, but what exactly do you have to lose? Fuck it. You push away the what if's and inch your face closer to Cooper’s neck, your hands find themselves carefully making their way to his chest. He doesn’t react, and from what you can tell, he doesn't seem to mind.

You see his breathing stop, and you’re feeling brave. So you test the waters, gently sliding your hand up to his chest, letting them glide across his shirt. While your lips carefully grace the rough skin on his neck. You hear him puff out the air he’s been holding in while curiously letting letting you wander, but he doesn’t seem to resist.

When he doesn’t stop you, it’s easy to find the courage to keep going. Your hand wanders further down his chest, stomach, but he catches your hand right before it reaches the hem of his pants.

"What do you think you’re doin'?" He doesn't sound disappointed, more so curious. You feel a bit embarrassed, but you stand your ground, like you've already stated, you’ve got nothing to lose.

"Please Coop," just a whisper in his ear, "Please show me what it’s meant to feel like", a plea, practically begging.

He can’t help but let out a low growl, obviously turned on by the thought. "I’m meant to deliver you as a virgin, sweetheart."

You want to cry again, a sob brewing deep in your throat. "Please, they won’t know- They won’t find out," Your lips find his neck again, leaving trails of kisses up to his jawline, tongue swirling along the rough surface. You never thought you would find yourself in this position 2 days ago, but here you were, begging for a bounty hunter, a ghoul, to take your virginity.

Lucky for you, he seems to be out of fucks to give and lets go of your hand after only a few seconds of thinking it over. You don’t hesitate to let your free hand go under his shirt to feel his skin. It’s so textured, but you don’t mind. You’ve never touched anyone this way before, there wasn't much to compare it to.

Your hand travel lower until it finds a buldge. Being that this is your first time being intimate with somone, you’re startled by the unfamiliarity of it at first. But it doesn't take you long to realize that you were the reason for his cock hardening, and that turned you on more than anything.

Cooper, who's been laying still for some time now, has clearly been contemplating if he should stop this whole ordeal or not. He wants to touch you so bad, show you how good he can make you feel. Have you shaking with pleasure because of him, but he seems to let you be in control for the time being. You didn't mind, and it gave you some reassurance that this wouldn't be rushed, nor that he would force you to do something you didn't want to.

Your hands are shaking at this point as you try to unbotton his pants, and Cooper can't help but to give you a hand in your already broken state. You’re eager, and waste no time removing your own.

"Get over here darlin'," he says with that gentle voice again, gesturing for you to straddle his hips. His length is exposed now, and you feel yourself getting nervous with anticipation. You find it hard to believe that he's gonna fit inside you, it seems impossible.

Yet, you gain the confidence to sit up and make your way across his lap. You're not sure where to sit specifically, but you want to study him further and therefore straddle his thighs. His cock in view in front of you, laid across his stomach, stiff and drooling. Cooper doesn't say anything, but he watches you carefully, wondering what your next move will be. You don't pay attention to him for now.

You do however find yourself curious, and grab the length in front of you. It's warm, and you circle a thumb across the top where it's drooling a clear liquid. You hear him hum under you, an approval of the gesture you just performed. Butterflies take over your stomach, and you feel throbbing in your lower area. You want his cock so desperately inside you now, just to hear those sounds from him again.

"Sit up for me'," the gruffness of his voice draws your attention to him. You obliged without hesitation, "Scoot closer," and you do, of course you do.

He stretches a hand down between your thigs and you're on your knees straddling his hips. Rough fingers run between your folds and they run smoothly.

"Well fuck me, you really want this huh?" He's teasing you now. You nod frantically.

"Use your words sweetheart," He inserts a finger in your untouched hole. You gulp at the sensation, "Yes- yes I do-".

He hums again, moving the finger inside you, bending and stroking. It feels strange, but not painful. "I know you do honey, but I need to make sure you can handle me first, alright?"

You nod frantically, you knew already that you were prepared to do anything he wanted. "Yes, sir,"

Without warning he adds another finger, and it's starting to sting a little. You try to control your breathing as he starts moving them in and out of you, "I know it hurts baby, but it's only for a lil while. You trust me, don't you?"

You nod again, "Yes- Fuck!" He was getting agressive with it now, but he's hitting a spot you didn't know existed and it's sending you to other dimensions in your mind. Your eyes are rolling back while his fingers work hard between your thighs. It's unlike anything you've felt before.

"There we go.. You're gonna be so good for me aren't you, princess?" His words barely register as you find yourself gripping his arm and holding on for dare life to not lose your balance.

"Mhm- y- yes," and before you knew it, his hand is removed from between your folds and you're left heaving for your breath and trying to focus your vision again.

"I think you know what to do, darlin'," You need him badly now, even more now that you know what pleasures are waiting.

You place yourself over his cock, and Cooper watches in patiently as he puts his hands on your thighs, stroking them gently.

You grab his length and place it under your opening, ready to lower yourself on him. "Slow now," he warns as you as his tip meets your entrance, before letting it slip in just an inch. You both hiss, him with pleasure, you with pain.

"That’s it, doll," He keeps his eyes on you as you wince in pain. Taking deep breaths as your hole adjusts itself to his full size, but you’re feeling impatient and start pushing yourself even further despite the burning sensation. You figure it’s better to get it over with as fast as possible so you can actually start enjoying this.

Cooper hums, "Patience sweetheart," you lock eyes with him, and he genuinely seems to care. He lets you have complete control over this, not pushing any limits, and it makes you feel even more aroused, being in charge; seeing his eyes roll back with edged pleasure, yet doing nothing to force his way in.

You feel comfortable enough to start moving now, and you do your best not to squeal when you feel it burn and sting. Finally your skin touch, your ass gracing his thighs, and though it’s still stinging a bit, you can feel his whole length inside you, and it drives you mad.

"Just like that, princess," You hear his soft grunts below, and it reminds you to start moving. Slowly easing yourself off him, just to lower back down again, trying to find the right pace and angle for it to hit the right spot. It doesn't take long before you feel Cooper bucking his hips just ever so slightly to help you out, and he does. He knew exactly how to thurst his cock to give you the extreme pleasure you were searching for.

"More- please," you moan, your hands find his chest to lean on. Nails digging into his already ragged skin.

"God, you feel so fuckin' good around me, darling," His hips buck into you again, pulling himself almost all the way out before slamming himself back inside you. It's rough, and his hands have found your ass to grab to help move you to his rhythm. You're dazed, eyes barely open from sheer pleasure radiating deep inside you. It's making your breath hitched, and your moans spurt out in cries.

"My- fuckn'- god-" you struggle to draw a proper breath, your vision is blurred and rolled back, barely open.

He’s grunting with pleasure beneath you, seeing you completely lost to the way his cock fills your tight cunt, the next time rougher than last. You both sense that you're getting closer to an edge, and that’s when you realize how lightheaded you are, probably from the lack of food you’ve had today, and Coop notices how your figure slowly droops with exhaustion.

"Woah easy darling-" You feel him sit up under you, and without much effort he sits up and holds you tight to his chest, flipping you over on your back in a swift motion.

You would act surprised, but you’re too lightheaded and close to a climax that you don’t react at all. You feel his head in the crook of your neck, breathing heavy and groaning into your ear as he pushes himself deep and steady inside you. Your moans are soft, almost silent, barely there, not enough energy to show him how good he’s making you feel. But you think he gets it, if anything he can see it in how your eyes roll back, how flushed your cheeks are, and feel how your walls are squeezing tightly around him.

"You gonna be a good girl and finish all over my cock, princess?" You feel a hand reach under your chin, placed firmy on your throat, a tight squeeze is applied as you feel his hot breath on your cheek. Sloppy kisses, and a traveling tongue, licking off all your sweat and tears. Having him so near and in control of your breathing makes you feel unbelievably hot. He could kill you right now, right at your high, and you wouldn't mind at all.

"I think I'm- Coop I'm gonna-," you’re whisper in his ear, and it only fuels him more.

He lifts your leg higher, hooking it over his free arm as he goes even deeper. "Show me how fuckin' good I make you feel, sweetheart,"

And with that you think you’re about to pass out, but instead you’re hit with the intense feeling of something combursting inside you. Your head slams back, and your hands reach up to grab the headboard of the bed, your knuckles turning white from the grip. You're dazed, exhausted, feeling the lingering pleasure from your orgasm still present inside your throbbing cunt. Cooper helps you ride out the orgasm in a slower pace while coming up close to his own.

"There you go doll, it's all right," His hand leaves your throat and he unhooks your leg to find your waist, placing them on each side. He's leaning back on his knees as he pumps himself into you, softly, slowly. Soft groans leaves his lips in heavy and hitched breaths as he gets closer.

Seeing you so beautifully dishevelled and limp beneath him, he starts guiding your exhausted body with his hands, pulling you onto his cock, using it to finish himself off. You allow him, cause you enjoy watching him his chest rise with every breath he takes. His eyes rolling back with pleasure from feeling your walls pulsate with each thrust, and with one last squeeze from you, he reaches his own climax.

His hands are grabbing your waist so tightly you can feel the bruises forming already, but all you can focus on is his heaving chest, and his exposed throat as his head is thrown back. Soft grunts and curses filling the room, and you imagine his eyes closed with painfully pleasurable bliss, all caused by you.

He rides out his own orgasm and tries to settle his breathing before he lifts himself off you. He doesn't look at you, but climbs tiredly out of the bed to readjust his clothing. You’re so sleepy, greasy, smelly, but you don't care. You're high, and happy.

You watch him at the edge of the bed, and you utter a soft 'Thank you', just to let him know you're grateful for risking the success of the job. You were meant to be delivered as a virgin after all.

You hear him chuckle from the foot of the bed, you guessed he’d never gotten a ‘thank you for fucking me’ from anybody before, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

"Close your eyes and get some sleep, alright?" Hell, he doesn’t need to tell you twice.

"I think that’s a good idea," You’re not really sure if the words ever left your mouth, being that you’re practically half asleep already. But you do notice the bed dipping slightly next to you, and how you’re gently being pushed on your side. Followed by something warm pressed up against your back, and gentle kisses being placed along your exposed neck.

What tomorrow brings doesn't matter in this moment.

Part 2?

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout #fallout reader #fallout fanfic #cooper howard x female reader #cooper howard fanfiction #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #fallout the ghoul #cooper howard smut #the ghoul smut #fallout smut

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adore-laur · 6 days ago

Text

DADRRY BLURB

what the hell, sure. welcome back dadrry!

——

It's the usual time of night when Harry prepares his mind and body for a healthy eight hours of undisturbed sleep. And by undisturbed, that doesn't include being woken up by either of his daughters. It's not so much an interruption as it is a natural part of being a father. These days, he's a master at curing midnight wakings from nightmares, sugar rushes, sicknesses, and those fussy sleep regression phases.

Secretly, he loves the challenge and reward of it all. There's nothing better than calming a baby's cry or tiring out a toddler's hyperactive brain. Even when he does it while half-asleep, the feeling of being needed by his children is unparalleled.

After putting the kids to bed, Harry has a set of rules for himself: take a scorching hot shower, drink a mug of chamomile tea, and put away his phone and laptop. It creates an inner warmth that relaxes him from top to bottom. After expeditious kitchen shifts followed by hands-on parenting, the last thing he wants is eyestrain and an aching pulse at his temples.

He'll often read a mystery or historical fiction novel to guide his thoughts away from work. It's a simple pleasure to get lost in the pages, lit only by the bedside lamp as his eyelids grow heavy. He'll bookmark whatever page is the culprit of his sleepiness and save it for tomorrow. No printed words are worth a crick in his neck. Afterward, you'll eventually join him, and he'll spend his last minutes of consciousness with his skin pressed against you, breathing in your familiar scent.

Tonight's routine goes a little differently, courteous of you. Harry manages to take a shower, adding a dose of meditation toward the end, and is blowdrying his hair when you peek your head past the bedroom doorway. Your gaze searches for him, roving over the empty bed and open closet until it lands on him standing in the connected bathroom. He shuts the dryer off, sensing you have something of importance to tell him. You're dressed in pajamas already, the matching silk two-piece hugging your curves and providing him with glimpses of skin he was deprived of all day. Lord knows the thin material draped over your bare breasts will be the cause of greedy, wandering hands under the covers later. He nearly groans just thinking about it.

Blinking himself out of that lovely fantasy, Harry lifts his eyes back up to your face. "Hi, baby," he says, setting the dryer down and fluffing his unruly hair in the mirror. There is something so intimate about seeing his and your reflection right before bedtime, in the low light after a long day. The domestic simpleness of living together, sharing a space, and coming home to each other is a delight he always revels in.

"Hey," you say, smiling and leaning against the doorjamb. "I'll wait until you're done."

Still staring at you in the mirror, Harry grips the sink's edge and hangs his head dramatically. "Why must you torture me with those pajamas?"

You roll your eyes. "Oh, please. You sleep nearly naked every night."

He finds you in the mirror again, his eyes heavy with lust. "And does it torture you?"

"I'll never tell," you reply, although a pretty blush stains your cheeks—a clear giveaway.

He smirks and says, "Give me a second. I'll be right there." He turns his attention back to his hair, but not before catching a brief flash of you practically skipping to the bed. With a warm feeling caressing his heart, he digs through the vanity drawer and finishes his routine, which consists of a spritz of sea salt spray in his curls, two swipes of Old Spice deodorant on his armpits, and a layer of maple-flavored lip balm that you'll probably—most definitely—kiss off within the next hour.

Flicking the light off, Harry makes his way to where you're sitting on the bed with a taped cardboard box in front of your tucked knees. It's only the size of half a shoebox. He sits and rests his back against the upholstered headboard, waiting for you to speak.

"Did you order a package from somewhere?" you ask, pushing the box toward him.

Harry frowns, his eyes narrowing as he tries to recall purchasing anything online recently. "I don't believe so. Why, did you?"

"No. It was on the front porch." You shrug, also confused by the mysterious box. "Must have just gotten delivered."

"Huh," he says. There's no return address, just a To: Harry Styles, and it leaves him stumped. Is it from a neighbor? A secret admirer? A stalker who is currently watching him through the window and waiting for him to open it?

New fear unlocked: a box with unknown origins.

Tearing his suspicious eyes away from the window—where thankfully no one lurks—he picks the box up and shakes it cautiously. Something inside shuffles, sounding like a solid object cushioned by something softer. Good grief, did he order something nonsensical while somnolent?

"I'm scared," Harry says bluntly.

You take the box and flip it all around like there could be a message hidden somewhere. Grinning, you say, "This is exciting. I love surprises."

"Then you should open it."

"Let's open it together," you suggest, crawling into his lap. With your back against his chest, Harry rubs his tired eyes and silently agrees. Sleep will only come harder if that unopened box sits menacingly throughout the night.

You seem unfazed by this random occurrence, but that's just how you are. The woman he married embraces the unpredictability of life and coaxes the curious nature he thought he grew out of as an adult. Now, staring at the harmless box, Harry follows your lead and digs his fingers into the topmost slit covered with flimsy tape. The cardboard gives way, and he opens the flaps slowly as if a wild animal might leap out.

He notices you aren't looking at the box's contents. Your eyes are trained on him, the eager expression you previously wore now softened.

"What's in there?" you ask, your thumb stroking the intrinsic lines and curves of his palm.

Harry looks from you to the box several times, not understanding the shift in mood. You nod, encouraging him to reveal the secret. He discovers a white fleece blanket, small enough in size for his brain to fire a synapse that he can't quite comprehend just yet.

"A blanket," he says with utter confusion. "Who would send me this?" When you quirk your lips to the side, he takes a shot in the dark. "Is this from you?"

"I don't know. Let's see the blanket." Your voice has gotten hushed.

Harry carefully takes it out, the material soft and lush. Again, he realizes it's small, not large enough to cover a full-grown person. Not even a child.

At that moment, during those few seconds where Harry's brain connects the dots, is when he shakes the blanket out and reads the embroidered words Baby Styles #3. He freezes, staring at the cursive letters stitched delicately into... a baby blanket. As he tries to process everything, you set a pregnancy test in his loose grasp, the lightweight plastic heavy with significance. His body jolts with awareness as he frantically holds it under the lamp, his hands beginning to shake. The two lines are as clear as day. Not faint. Not just a possibility. Positive.

It isn't a complete surprise. There were serious, sit-down conversations about growing the family one more time. Questions of, Are we ready for another one? and When's the right time? were answered with mutual confidence. Then it was just a matter of trying, though not as stringently as the last two times. If it was meant to be, it would happen. There was no rush. There's beauty in taking things slow and not relying on hope alone. It requires patience, maybe even a little fate, and now Harry fully understands that good things come to those who wait.

"I'm pregnant," you whisper in his ear, not able to contain the joyous laugh that punctuates your statement.

Harry falls back on the bed and stares at the ceiling with blurred vision. "This is real, right? You're not pranking me?"

You straddle his bare torso, beaming at him like an angel. "I tricked you with the box. But this—" you grab the test and vulnerably hold it in your palms—"is real. We have an appointment in two weeks."

Harry sits up quickly, anchors himself to your waist, and pulls you back down on the mattress with him. You giggle, limbs tangled and breathless with excitement. "Fuck," he says, kissing every inch of your neck. "I've been dreaming of this." He brushes your hair back with gentle fingers. "Another baby."

"Could be twins or triplets. You never know."

"Wouldn't that be something," he muses, not even mildly frightened of that inconceivable thought.

Happy tears drip from your lashes. "I'm sure it won't feel real until, well, you know..."

Yeah, he knows. He had the privilege of watching you bloom twice. Each time was slightly different, with varying symptoms and measurements. What remained the same was your radiant beauty that somehow became even more pronounced as the pregnancies progressed. It was remarkable to witness. He couldn't believe you were able to create life so gracefully.

You take Harry's hand and place it on your lower stomach. There's no physical proof since it's far too early, yet he knows it will sneak up on him, and before long, he'll be cradling a crying baby in his arms. For the third time.

"Can we keep this a secret?" Harry asks quietly. "At least until you have a cute bump that can't be ignored anymore."

"Can you keep it a secret?" you tease. The last two pregnancies were revealed to family and friends, both times spoiled by him. Apparently, he was making it obvious by the way he touched you and the "hints" he wasn't aware he was dropping. The first time, during a summer get-together with your side of the family, he honestly doesn't remember holding your cousin's baby girl and cheekily saying "I'm preparing." The backyard went eerily silent until you shouted the news to save his ass from fumbling through some half-baked explanation. The second time, during Christmas dinner, he really doesn't remember his hand drifting so evidently to your bump that you hid under a loose sweater. He may have been tipsy, so when his mother pulled him into the hallway and gave him a knowing look, he couldn't help but nod bashfully to confirm her motherly intuition.

"I'll be good, I promise," Harry says, making a show of locking lips and throwing away the key.

You cup his cheeks and attach your mouth to his. He melts into your sweet, tender kiss that he can't live without. "It doesn't matter to me. But I definitely want to get past the first trimester in case..." Your voice trails off, and Harry nods to show he understands the unspoken prospect.

"I guess I'm just already feeling protective," he murmurs, his hand traveling down your thigh. "Want you and this secret all to myself."

"You're a greedy, greedy man," you say, shifting your hips.

He groans. "It's these damn pajamas."

"Oh, you have nine months of torture ahead. You know why?"

"Why, sweetheart?"

You sigh theatrically. "Because there will come a time when these pajamas won't fit anymore. And poor me will be in the third trimester in the late summer, which means it'll be too hot to wear anything to bed."

Harry's jaw hangs open, filthy fantasies flashing through his mind at warp speed. "Yeah? Well fuck, I better take advantage of the precious time I have left with them." He snaps the waistband of your shorts.

You laugh loudly, the sound filling the room like it was always meant to, and Harry takes it as an invitation to dive under the silk.

——

#harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles au #dad!harry #dadrry #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #adore-laur #don’t ask how this happened #because i don't know

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wandasaura · 9 months ago

Text

END UP DREAMING INSTEAD OF SLEEPING

summary — you can’t hate her with your eyes closed, so falling asleep against her chest definitely can’t be held against you… right?

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, domestic fluff w/ the cutest lawyer!wives and their bratty baby. this entire thing is just straight fluff, you horndogs need a timeout

authors note — here’s a little blurb for you, it was originally requested on ao3 !! it’s not much, just some wholesome fluff with our favorite ‘enemies’

you are in love universe

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff

Natasha was properly exhausted, and the redness in her eyes spoke to that fact. Her sluggish footsteps carried her toward the front door at a snail's pace, and dragging her suitcase up the driveway had never felt like such a difficult task. Beneath the blanket of nightfall, the lawyer questioned if potential theft was worth leaving the luggage abandoned beside Wanda’s car in favor of walking into the house empty-handed, but had persisted with her motions when she decided she’d rather not have to go through the process of ordering yet another set of suitcases. Nobody would ever know how she came to have such misfortune with checking bags at the airport, but the running list of lost luggage was long and quite funny to people who weren’t her.

Being away for two weeks had felt like torture, and she was more then glad to be back in the space she created with her wife. Seeing your car in the driveway parked behind hers had been an additional bonus. Wanda had relayed very minimal information regarding the events that had led to you spending your nights and days off in Westview, which meant that whatever happened would certainly piss her off, but despite the knowledge of something upsetting you while she was away, it was comforting to know that both of her girls were waiting for her return in the same space.

Natasha struggled to find her keys when she finally made it to the front door, and with greuling efforts she had only barely managed to get the lock to turn on her first try when she’d finally located her keyring in the second smallest pocket of her crossbody bag. The entryway was dark, much like the rest of the house, but the softest glow of light came from a lamp in the living room that hadn’t been turned off. Wanda was meticulous about turning everything off before she went to bed, and if she ever had the slightest inquisition about having forgotten, she made rounds through the house to assure nothing had been overseen on her first pass. Leaving the suitcase beside the door, Natasha followed the kiss of light that projected shadows against the wall.

Even though the light was dim, one they used sparingly when a good book captured their attention and the length of sunlight was minimal, the silhouettes of two bodies were easily identifiable. Wanda sat curled up against the arm of the couch, her legs folded beneath her body with her chin propped up against the palm of her hand. You were burrowed into her side, your face pressed into her neck and hiding from the peaks of light that tried to stir you awake. Natasha felt her heart skip at the sight of you so content with one another, knowing that something must have gone right to lead to this tender moment.

“Natalia?” Wanda shifted at the echo of footsteps that hadn’t lingered through the house in fourteen days, her lips pulling into a sleep-riddled grin when she made out the distinct appearance of her wife dressed in comfortable black loungewear.

Natasha laughed softly at the expression on her wifes face, stepping close enough to lay a kiss against the crown of her head. “Privet dorogaya.”

“She wanted to wait for you. Poor thing was out within the first twenty minutes.” Wanda looked down at you, smiling at the easy way about your features when they weren’t riddled with stress and sadness. Classes had taken their toll on you, but as you fell into a dream that Wanda could only hope was good, there was an undeniable youth to your features. “I missed you.” She pulled Natasha down to her lips, humming in bliss when the recently returned lawyer returned the embrace.

“Missed you too. I almost killed Tony on the third day.” Natasha deflated against Wanda, and the Sokovian only laughed softly, knowing that fact was more than accurate. It was honestly surprising he hadn’t done something to tick off the Russian earlier. “I’m gonna take a shower. Meet me in bed?”

“I’ll be waiting, Mrs. Maximoff.” Wanda winked, watching Natasha retreat up the stairs, and minutes later the telltale sound of the shower running filled the house that had existed in near complete silence since the day she left. Wanda didn’t move from the couch, wanting to spend a few more minutes with you at her side before the peace was interrupted. When you stirred, trying to find a more comfortable position and ultimately failing, you groaned in annoyance. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

“No. Goodnight.” You pressed your face into Wanda’s neck, covering the side of your face with your palm as even the close contact couldn’t completely coat you in craved for darkness.

Wanda laughed at your attempt to find sleep, but she didn’t allow you to succeed. She sat up straight, subsequently causing your body to twist at an awkward angle that would only be soothed if you shifted position too. You sighed, rubbing sleep from your eyes, deciding that it wasn’t going to be coming over you again for at least another handful of minutes.

“Is Natty home?” You perked up, hearing the shower running upstairs.

Wanda smirked at your delayed realization, nodding her head in the direction of the stairs. “Mmhm. Come on, she came in a couple minutes ago.”

You followed the Sokovian up the stairs, pointedly ignoring the embarrassment that settled across your cheeks when you sleepily stumbled into the wall after miscalculating the distance to the door of their bedroom. You flopped against the bed the second you were close enough, claiming your rightful position in the middle of the blankets.

“Getting comfy now, are we?” Wanda laughed at your eagerness to settle into her bed, but she hadn’t expected the night to unfold any differently, though your impromptu cuddle session on the couch had not been a wrench she’d expected to see thrown into those plans.

You didn’t cuddle back into her chest when she laid down in the bed beside you, but you didn’t shuffle away from her either. Your legs touched beneath the heavy white blanket that was pulled up over your shoulders, an eager smile on your lips as you heard the shower water turn off and Natasha mumbling beneath her breath as she fumbled through drawers and cabinets.

“Two weeks away and she’s forgotten where she put her hairbrush.” Wanda rolled her eyes, but there was no trace of annoyance in her features as she watched the door with the same amount of excitement as you.

When Natasha did reappear, dressed in a different set of loungewear and with her red waves cascading down her back in a dampened state, you wiggled closer to Wanda and patted the open space beside you. Little words were spoken, but nothing needed to be said when your bright smile spoke a million inexpressible feelings. Happy to be home, Natasha took full advantage of having both you and Wanda with her. She pulled you flush against her back, restraining your movement, but you had missed her heavy arm being thrown around your waist as you slept so you didn’t protest. Her fingers twisted into Wanda’s like they’d never truly belong anywhere else, and with full darkness surrounding the room, you fell back to sleep.

“I love you.” Natasha whispered to Wanda, stroking the woman’s knuckles with the calloused pad of her thumb.

“I love you too, moya lyubov’.”

#wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #dom!natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #dom!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fluff #wandanat #wandanat x reader #dom!wandanat x reader #wandanat fluff #series: you are in love #minors dni ৎ୭

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allfortheslay25 · 5 months ago

Note

Pls loredump Abt ur new all for the war au

THE MOMENT I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR!!!

everyone keep up it’s a doozy☝️

TW: mentions of abuse, torture, human trafficking, assault, murder, and lots of violence ⚠️

Some facts to keep in mind: Based on a draft for a novel I am working on, despite Milo being in this AU it is not 100% based on the Milo fic and has some changes to adhere to my novel, this novel is fantasy with light magic aspects and more godly mythology aspects (so not everyone can do magic cuz it’s more like witchcraft or godly blessings/curses), Neil is sort of intersex (or at least a version of it in this fantasy world) This also isn’t the full story, I left some stuff out because I don’t think I can get through every microscopic detail

The war started when Palmetto country was harassed for the last time. The Moriyamas had sent another army to pass through, use their resources, and bully their citizens. So Palmetto decided enough was enough and declared war. It was Kayleigh Day that accepted and decided to fight back (otherwise the Moriyamas would have closed their boarders and just ignored Palmetto)

David Wymack was in charge of the Palmetto army and fought a long and hard battle against Kayleigh and the Moriyamas defenses. Eventually, they’d met in person and become frenemies. Kayleigh was pregnant with Kevin and after many interactions and conversations with Wymack, decided the war wasn’t worth it. She didn’t want Kevin to grow up surrounded by meaningless bloodshed.

The Moriyamas did not stand for her decision. She started this, she has to end it. They tasked Tetsuji, her closest friend and family, to kill her. Tetsuji did so and raised Kevin as one of his own (alongside Riko) Kevin was told his mother was assassinated by the other side and her war is now his.

So Kevin trained hard, studied war and battle strategy, and worked to finish what his mother started.

Along his journey to becoming the ‘hero’ the Moriyama empire needed, he trained alongside Riko who he considered a brother, and was given two friends; Nathaniel, a young boy belonging to a war driven family aka the House of Slaughter who were well known battle strategists, and later Jean, a teen belonging to a wealthy family aka the House of Pride who were known to own lots of ships and traveling resources.

Nathaniel was always promised to Tetsuji’s unit since his birth. Riko let Kevin have him so Kevin could make a warrior out of him. And, after all, what’s Kevin’s is Riko’s and what’s Riko’s is always Riko’s.

Jean was betrothed to Kevin when he’d completed his first mission. Kevin assumed it’s what Jean wanted since the Moreau family has always been stuck up about letting other families marry into theirs. Their children are picky and if Jean was his fiancé, it had to mean Jean chose him. But Kevin was oblivious to how little Jean mattered to his family.

Nathaniel grew up with Kevin as a brother figure and a mentor. They trained and studied together and snuck away with Riko and Jean to get into childish shenanigans. But every weekend, Nathaniel would need to go home for Wesninski family training where they’d torture him. It was meant to train Nathaniel in interrogation, both how to survive one and how to conduct one. On his first day back, the Moriyamas would hurt him so that he wouldn’t forget to fear them too. Kevin was just as obvious to this and assumed Nathaniel was just very weak and prone to injury.

Eventually, when Nathaniel was 13, he and Kevin got into a fight about how distracted Nathaniel had been these days. He’d kept sneaking off to hang out with some secret friends of his or to follow Riko around. Kevin assumed Nathaniel was purposely getting sloppy and tore into him. Nathaniel had definitely been getting away with those other soldiers, content to let them treat him to food and (appropriate)entertainment in the town. It was an escape from Kevin’s pressure on him and Riko’s abuse behind closed doors (which is why Nathaniel was often following him around)

Kevin said some things he didn’t mean and told Nathaniel to be at the training grounds for night practice or else. Nathaniel left to hang out with the soldiers so he could vent about Kevin’s attitude. He meant to show up for night practice but the soldiers had held him hostage and assaulted him until morning.

Nathaniel had Wesninski training the next day and was gone for two days and an extra day with the Moriyamas abuse. Before he could attempt to go to Kevin, Riko had locked him in his room as punishment for not seeing Riko before he left. When he was finally let out before the next week started, Kevin had to be fuming.

Nathaniel went to Kevin to explain or make up for his absence but running into Riko reminded him that even if he reported it, the soldiers wouldn’t even get a slap on the wrist. Nathaniel was property and if Riko didn’t care that they’d touched him, neither would any other Moriyama. So he showed up to the training grounds to lie about his whereabouts and it set Kevin off.

Kevin laid into him about his sloppiness and hit Nathaniel where it hurts. Kevin decided he had enough and Nathaniel wasn’t cut out to be a soldier so he quit as his mentor. Nathaniel of course had argued back and twisted the knife (metaphorical) into Kevin as a final word. They got into a bit of a tussle in which Kevin slice Nathaniel across the face as the final ‘we’re done’. Nathaniel left the castle grounds for some space and hid away for a week when he’d realized something was wrong. He was pregnant.

Knowing what the Moriyamas would do to him and how they would have decided to use this to their advantage, Nathaniel decided to leave the country. He changed his name and disguised himself (with the help of his mother) so he could go to Palmetto. Renee, a solider who helps people escape from the war and settle down into Palmetto, picked Neil out of the crowd instantly. They had to test him since being pregnant allows extra comforts and resources and many people try to fool them for it every day.

Neil was kept under constant watch by Andrew, a fellow soldier and friend of Renee’s. They talked every day, Neil never giving up any information and doing his best to take scraps of info about the war from Andrew. Eventually, Neil was far along enough for a doctor, Abby, to examine him and prove he was with child. The information wasn’t a blessing to Neil and only made him more bitter and hostile towards the Foxes (soldiers of palmetto tasked with guarding the farms that those with pregnancies stay at) Neil was allowed privacy but that was a favor from Andrew after Neil gave him a truth.

Neil had planned to use the comforts provided for pregnant ppl until Milo was born and he could just give him up and move on with his life. Andrew knew and because no one asked, he never told any of the other Foxes. Andrew would give Neil reports about the ongoing war, they’d play their truths game, and ofc Andrew would just do his duties as a guard.

When Milo was born, Neil decided to keep him, afraid to end up alone in this new country. While recovering, Neil could not stand the Foxes reckless and messy teamwork during battles and provided them with better plans and instructions while in bed rest. Dan was eager to let him since his plans worked and made sense. When Neil recovered, he enlisted and Dan took him under her wing to train him to replace her.

Word got out about this new strategist of there’s and how ruthless he was. Kevin had not been out on the field (he’s one of few people allowed to switch back and forth between battlefield fighting and hq strategy) but Riko had.

Riko one day stormed back into hq to rant about Nathaniel being the new strategist. Kevin didn’t believe it and didn’t think it was a funny joke since everyone had assumed Nathaniel was dead. Kevin instantly geared up to meet them on the battlefield and fought him, using Nathaniel’s old habits to get him on his back and unmask him. Kevin was relieved to find him alive but confused as to why he was fighting for palmetto.

Neil kicked Kevin’s ass and told him to go back home, deciding to retreat for now. Kevin followed his lead in his state of shock. A week later, he received a note from Nathaniel to meet him by a certain lake they used to hang around as kids. There, he explained that he was no longer Nathaniel and he would not be coming back to the Moriyamas. They argued, Kevin begged for him to come back, he told him that the Moriyamas killed Mary for hiding him and her last words were that Nathaniel died, Nathaniel did not mention his assault or his son but threw his abuse in Kevin’s face before they calmed down and talked about nothing. Sunrise came around and Neil left.

Kevin had hopes of convincing Neil back and confided in Jean about his struggles. He told Riko to forgive Neil and naively hoped they could all just go back to normal.

Flash forward to Tetsuji having a mission for Kevin. Kevin, eager to prove himself, agreed to kill an enemies son. Tetsuji tells him to slow down before explaining that it’s a baby and not only is it a child, it is Nathaniel’s one and only son. Kevin begs and tries to convince Tetsuji to see another way, that Milo won’t be a threat, that they can’t do this to family. Tetsuji reminds him that Nathaniel is a traitor and no longer family and that if he cannot complete this mission, someone else (possibly Riko) will. Tetsuji does this to Kevin because he wants to ensure that Kevin is a Moriyama and just like when Tetsuji was ordered to kill a sister (Kayleigh) Kevin must kill a nephew (Milo)

Kevin suits up and heads to the farm where Milo lives, sneaking in with the help of the Moriyamas and a token Neil had given him in case Kevin ever wanted to escape to Palmetto (it was a coin with a fox on it that he’d flash towards any guards at the boarders, and they’d let him in) At the farm, Kevin loses his resolve because of how much Milo just looks like Neil. Kevin had first met Neil when he was three years old at a Wesninski banquet, that’s when Riko had gifted Kevin with the honor of training him. Neil moved in with them when he was eight years old, and started his physical training at 10. Kevin couldn’t fathom killing Milo when all he saw was Neil’s infant face at that banquet.

Kevin instead kidnapped Milo and taken him back to the Moriyamas castle where he begged Riko to convince Tetsuji to let them keep him. Riko had agreed instantly with ulterior motives to raise his own Wesnisnki weapon. They tutored Milo in battle strategy and while Kevin was away on the battlefield, Riko would hurt Milo.

Neil had gone to torturing the Moriyamas ppl to find information about Milo’s possible whereabouts. It had gotten bad enough that the Moriyamas were willing to just toss him back to Neil or even kill him to get rid of the evidence. Riko had a dumbass plan to send an infants mutilated body back to Neil with a threat. Kevin actually believed it to be Milo and had a mental breakdown about the loss until Riko revealed it was all a trick. Kevin began to realize how much of a monster Riko actually was.

Meanwhile, Neil stopped torturing the Moriyamas citizens and instead just started burning down their villages. At first, it seemed like a ridiculous act of grief and the Moriyamas opened their kingdoms city borders for the homeless to reside in temporarily. Once all of their ppl were in one place, Neil broke into the castle and gathered all the Moriyamas to make them beg for mercy.

Kevin was the only one to beg for forgiveness and accept any punishments Neil had to offer. Kevin hadn’t known where Riko hid Milo at the time and didn’t know if he should admit that Milo was in fact alive (after all, Kevin didn’t even have proof) when the Moriyamas made halfassed apologies for Neil’s loss, he told Kevin that he was an idiot and needed to stop treating Neil like a child. Then Neil set the entire city on fire as his men slaughtered as many women and children as they could. Kevin was forced to watch from a window and listen to the people’s screams as the city burned and bled. It was the first time Kevin saw Neil as a monster.

Neil then castrated the Moriyamas, killing Kengo and Ichirou and taking Tetsuji’s hands. Kevin was the only person unscathed because Neil knew how Kevin has the worst case of survivors guilt. Riko was the only person who escaped, hiding away until the next day when the fires died.

Tetsuji was meant to make Riko king now. He first ordered Kevin to kill Milo as a last act of vengeance and fear that Neil would discover the truth. Riko taunted him about it and went to sleep like a baby for his coronation the next day. Kevin almost did kill Milo before deciding to instead kill Riko in his sleep. Kevin took Milo and returned him to Neil’s men.

On his long journey to palmetto (now that the city is burned and the borders are back up Kevin must take the long way) Jean’s spirit follows him, talking to Kevin as he begins to believe he is going insane. He didn’t want to believe Jean was dead but it was the only answer. Tetsuji and his advisors slaughtered Jean for killing Riko. They didn’t bother investigating and brutally murdered him. Kevin eventually is able to return Milo and wanders between the borders, unable to return home or go to palmetto.

Neil later forgives Kevin (after a very long few years) and helps him connect with Wymack. While Kevin talks to Neil about his plans, he avoids the war and Neil never tells him that Tetsuji hung himself and the throne now belongs to Kevin. The war is coming to a close and Kevin needs to let it end before he can claim his title. Except, while Kevin is helping a few ppl escape to Palmetto, Milo (who is a teenager by now) tries to kill him, driving Kevin farther from both kingdoms. It’s why he never gets the news about the end of the war or Neil and Andrew’s brutal deaths.

Injured and weakened, Kevin tries to help as many people as he can as they all make way to palmetto. Crossing the river, Kevin is too injured from Milo’s attack to fight the ripples, causing Kevin to fall and bust his head open on a rock. Kevin drowns until he finally bleeds out.

As for Neil and Andrew, they were still on the war front the day the news of the end came. Neil was asked to help some villagers nearby their camp. He was tricked and captured and the villagers burned him alive for a day and a half. Nearing the second day, Andrew received word about Neil’s kidnapping. He was leaving their tent when he’d had a heart attack and died. Andrew was purposely poisoned so he wouldn’t avenge Neil’s death.

The only survivor of this story was Milo, who had trained himself for his parents war, who was tortured just to end it, who was kidnapped and separated from Neil, who didn’t even get to fight in it. Milo lived to tell their tale and was forced to face it alone.

The end.

#aftg #all for the game #art #doodles #fanart #neil josten #andrew minyard #oc #milo josten #all for the war #miloverse #Kevin day #the Moriyamas #jean moreau #riko moriyama

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rosazoldyckk · 2 years ago

Text

-Yandere Killua Zoldyck X Reader-

⚠️warning⚠️ mentions of obsessive thinking, stalking, and clinginess (none of this is intense though, but it’s still worth putting a TW just in case)

Fandom: Hunter X Hunter. Characters: Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecs

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Ever since you had become friends with Killua and Gon during the hunter exam, you had found yourself constantly being touched by Killua in some way, shape, or form. Whether he was playing with your hair, taking your hand in his, or hugging you tightly, Killua seemed to always need your touch. So then, it was no surprise to you that the very moment you exited the heavens arena match, Killua rushed over to you and gently grabbed your hand to get your attention, pulling you to his side.

As soon as he felt you pressed up against his, he felt your steady breaths and your soft skin against his, Killua breathed a silent sigh of relief. Not being the most 'enthusiastic' fighter, being a Zoldyck was already torture enough for him, but it was made even worse by the fact he was forced to be separated so far away from you. He couldn't talk to you, couldn't touch you, couldn't even daydream about you without Gon snapping him out of his thoughts. Somehow though, he had gotten through his thoughts of worry, and now he was more than ready to make up for lost time.

"Man I'm really hungry," he told you, his voice

barely above a whisper, but just loud enough for you to hear, giving your shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

"I'm definitely ready to eat something right about now".

"Me too, that fight sure did take my energy out" you laughed. "I'm just gonna head to the bathroom with Gon first, so I'll meet you down there."

"Okay, " Killua pouted, not wanting to let you go. He had only just gotten you back into his arms, why should he have to give you up to Gon? His eyes watching you closely, Killua hid as he waited for you and Gon to leave the bathrooms to get a little way ahead of him before making his move and following you. What kind of boyfriend would he be, after all, if he just left you all alone?

That reasoning, so wrapped up in his love for you, guided Killua all the way to the men and women’s bathroom, where he hid behind a large plant pot. Fingers twitching slightly from withdrawal of you, Killua instinctively stalked you and Gon as you both exited the bathrooms in sync. If he couldn't have you in his touch at the moment, he could at least still have the sound of your angelic voice in his ear.

"So, "Gon said as you two began walking to the food court, "you and Killua, huh?"

"What do you mean?" you asked back.

"You guys are so really cute together! Are you two dating or something?"

At his question, Killua beamed, his smile positively electric. As much as he loved touching you for its own sake, for the sheer joy and comfort it brought him, he was just as pleased with the other benefits. Namely, that of having people realize that you were taken, that you were off-limits.

"Oh," you answered with a slight chuckle. "We're not dating, Killua and I are just friends." Freezing at your response, the first thing that Killua felt was sheer confusion. He simply had no idea why you would lie about the love you and he shared. Did he do something wrong? Did he upset you somehow? Did he misunderstand something?

No, Killua told himself, that couldn't be it. You loved him, he just knew it. You must.. you must just be shy! Too worried to express your true feelings!! Yes, that was it, Killua realized in relief.

You were just so timid, you didn't know how to tell people about something so close to your heart. Well, that was okay, Killua thought. He would just have to make up for it then, would have to keep you in his arms at every opportunity, showing everyone that he was the only one who had your love.

#hunter x hunter x reader #hxh x reader #hxh x y/n #hunter x hunter x y/n #yandere #hunter x hunter #hxh fanfic #yandere x darling #hxh zoldyck #killua zoldyck #gon and killua #killua x you #yandere killua #killua x reader #gon freecss #killua x y/n #tw obsession #tw stalking

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jennifer-jeong · 7 months ago

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Okay so first, I really love your LnD fics (patiently waiting for more of your amazing works) 🥹🫶 and hear me out...

Reader who is reincarnated as a Fae being and has been alive since. But the thing is, her wings had been clipped off (with the use of silver chains, meaning she's vulnerable against silver) for a century and is in Linkon city since she feels that part of her (her wings) are somewhere hidden in the city (Think of Maleficent live action ig where her wings were taken from her) and meets the guys and so on :)

HI ANON THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR ASK AND YOUR KIND WORDS FJDSKLAFJSDL;A I APPRECIATE IT SM!! TY FOR INTERACTING!! I’m so glad to hear you like my fics and I promise more are on the way hehehe please do request me again if you have more ideas!!

I hope I did your prompt justice! I definitely did think a lot about maleficent when writing this hehehehe

Fluff + Angst | LADS x Fae!Reader Angel

CONTENT Angst to fluff, gender neutral reader, mentions of violence, blood, trauma, torture, healing alongside them, mutual pining between you and the boys, happy and open ended endings! ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

Your wings were a pretty and pearly milky white. Your wings resembled those of high flying birds. They were thick enough to allow gliding and also strong enough to give you lots of control in the air. They were iridescent in the sun and carried you high in the bright sky. The air was thin but more refreshing up there. You played with clouds and soared through the endless blue. It was freedom. It made you feel alive, warm.

It was your gift, but unfortunately, it was on someone else’s wishlist.

You’d never been a spiteful being, nor had you ever hurt a fly. But when silver chains ripped your flesh and tore your muscle to take your wings, severing your very soul from your body. When they destroyed your forest, your home, your family, your heart. You swore to make them suffer.

You were powerful and hunting these fools down was nothing difficult for you. The problem was hunting without your wings, your best weapon.

The lack of mobility and being forced to fight on the ground made it so that you could maim the weak ones, but you could never reach the ones who profited off the suffering of you and your people.

Linkon city is where they were. You knew this. You could feel your wings there. You also knew that you’d need to hide, figure out who did what and how to get your damn wings back. It would take time, but time was all you had as a fae. You’d do whatever it took to make them pay.

It’d take years, but it was worth it.

2 years later and you’ve already made moves to apprehend (and torture) a few key figures, always leaving them in front of the police station when you were done. You still had so much good in you and it always prevented you from killing. But it made you seethe that they were filthy fucking rich from what they stole from your homeland. They sold your resources and displayed your bodies, your wings, like they were trophies. Life was still cold and depressing for you but you did manage to make some friends in Linkon. They’d even help you with your mission. You only trusted them with the information because they had similar goals.

XAVIER

Xavier was a local policeman you had met a few decades into your plot when you were hired to help with the case. He was coincidentally also investigating illegal hunters and black markets selling goods stolen from other civilizations such as yours. It was a big ring of crime and he was determined to end the atrocities that were being committed in it. Meeting you was just extra motivation on top of his already relentless drive for justice. You became investigative partners since you were both capable in combat and often investigated the same people anyways.

Xavier was kind, gentle, quiet, and stronger than he let on. He always worked without expectation of reward and you appreciated that. You just wanted justice and he wanted the same. It helped that he didn’t seek publicity because it would’ve made your life harder since you were probably wanted as a vigilante from before. Xavier taught you his philosophies and you realized you’d been consumed by your desire for revenge, unable to enjoy life outside of it. You admired him for his morals, so you learned from him, and it made you two grow closer. He was more than happy to help, it was so rewarding to see you slowly become your bubbly self that he guesses you lost a long time ago.

He had his suspicions that you might be fae. The man was smart but he played his cards carefully, he always held them close. He acted aloof with you and pretended to not constantly stare at the back of your shirt, trying to see if you had imprints of missing wings on your shoulder blades. He also figured that your motivation for wanting to crack these cases came from somewhere. If he also managed to figure out that you’d been behind some of the previous mysterious arrests, he’d turn a blind eye. He knew your actions weren’t crimes. He felt glad that you got them back for what they did to you and your people.

After a few years of planned raids and dozens of arrests, one of the recovered items from the warehouse was a beautiful pair of wings. Still buzzing with magic, craving to feel the wind again. You felt them when they were being transported to the police HQ. The surge of energy that continued to approach you made you hold your breath and bounce your leg out of pure anxiety. Xavier put a hand on your shoulder to try to calm you down. He’d already figured out what was going on just by looking at you. You didn’t need to say a word. It was something that slowly came naturally since you two spent so much time together. You smiled and he smiled warmly back. You were in the middle of panicking because Xavier was still touching you when you were presented with your missing soul, your wings. You requested to view the “evidence” privately with Xavier and wasted no time in feeling your delicate wings with your fingertips again.

Xavier stood behind you, his right hand found its way to your upper back. He finally traced the outlines of your cut wings. It made you gasp at first, but you trusted him. As he continued to feel them, you shivered. They were scars, they were more sensitive. He stepped to your side and you turned to partially face him, his hand sliding off of you. You looked into his eyes and your longstanding feelings for Xavier were making their presence known by heating up your face, flushing your cheeks. You swore you saw a slight tinge of red on the tips of his ears too. He spoke to you in his familiar voice that you loved so much. He decided to tease you slightly.

“I think I always knew that you’d have wings, you were too perfect to not be an angel.”

ZAYNE

Zayne was a surgeon you’d met one day when he treated your wounds since you collapsed outside the hospital. He discovered the scars where your wings used to sit on your back. You were high off the morphine when he checked your back for more injuries so you barely even realized.

He questioned you but not in the way you expected. You thought he wouldn’t know what they were or try to take advantage of you. But instead he asked what you knew about the hunters that took your wings. He already knew exactly what happened to you just by looking. He was involved in cracking down on research related to Fae and Lemurians since there were people trying to fuse their genetics with these races to gain their beneficial traits such as immortality.

He knew some things you didn’t know and vice versa. You both began working on this together, investigating research facilities, interrogating suspects, and fighting only when needed. You were unstoppable and the law didn’t plan to ask you to let up. You both hand delivered them collectors and shadowy figures that had hid from the police for so long. When you fought, Zayne could both heal and attack from afar while you rushed them head on. You were unafraid because you believed in your partner, your trust in Zayne only grew as the years went on.

Early on, Zayne encouraged you to let go of the spite, the revenge. You knew he was right when he said that they did not benefit you in this. He saw the rage in you and could see that it was hurting you, mentally and physically. You listened, you knew better. You stopped the relentless tortures and instead, let the collectors rot in jail, but not before you got in a few good punches. Zayne watched you slowly come out of your shell again, actually taking the time to enjoy the little things in life instead of being hyper focused on revenge. He’d be lying if he said you weren’t one of the most rewarding patients he’d ever had.

Working with your partner was definitely quite the rollercoaster. He was always so professional and mature but would also randomly tease you as if you were kids, albeit with a fully deadpan expression. Zayne was reserved and often came off as cold but he made you so warm. You knew he was an extremely compassionate and kind person under his exterior and you admired him for it. Zayne also adored you in the same way. You had gone through so much pain and suffering but you still smiled and shined like the sun.

Over time you adapted to live without your wings but after one specific raid on a collector’s mansion, you knew exactly what the collector’s prized possession was because it belonged to you. You could feel your wings. They still surged with energy and upon seeing them when you went to do follow up investigation, you immediately called to them. They flew towards you and you inspected them, almost not believing the scene in front of you. Zayne stayed close ready to support you, especially if you were to fuse with your wings again, he knew it’d be hard to keep them hidden and it’d just bring up so much previous trauma.

You turned to face him slowly, leaving your wings behind you. You hesitated. Not letting your wings fuse with you yet. Zayne looked into your eyes, trying to comfort you with his presence. After a few seconds, Zayne held out his hand, you took it. His skin was cold but somehow it made yours burn, the heat spreading through your body as your face warmed up. He spoke quietly to you, telling you to take your time. You closed your eyes and took deep breaths, your thumb slowly caressing the back of Zayne's hand as he did the same back.

Zayne had always been good at comforting you with his words, maybe it just came naturally since he was a doctor. Regardless, you knew it was exactly what you needed right now. You didn’t know what you’d do after you got your wings back. Would you go home? Would you continue this mission with Zayne? Would having your wings make it harder? Would it make it easier? You confided in Zayne as you spoke your thoughts out loud. Once you were done, you were overwhelmed and he could tell. He started his reply with a sentence that filled you with warmth, hope, and a little bit of giddiness. He speaks, teasing you a bit at the end, his face flushing.

“It doesn’t matter what you are or if you have the wings or not, you’re beautiful and you should follow your heart… especially if it’s here.”

RAFAYEL

Rafayel was a painter “looking for art or inspiration” that you met at an underground event where illegal goods were being sold, but you quickly figured out it was a front. Rafayel was a Lemurian, you sensed it immediately since you weren’t human. As a fae you had the ability to sense certain things, and so did Rafayel. Upon meeting each other at an art exhibition, you quickly exchanged information and agreed to meet up again the next day. You almost simultaneously revealed that you were both after the hunters that destroyed your homes when you finally got to chat alone.

The two of you start to frequent more underground events, both of you being well connected and hiding your true intentions very well. You use the events to gather information and then put your plans into action when your targets are alone. It worked amazingly well, you were both extremely skilled and efficient at what you did. It slowly chipped away at this network that shamelessly destroyed your beautiful homes.

Rafayel was a bit of a loose cannon. The man was so sweet and bashful one second and deadly serious the next. He was so gentle with you but didn’t hesitate when there was business that needed to be done. He could easily switch it on and off too. You were just glad you were on his side of this war.

Both you and Rafayel were out for revenge but something about your partnership changed you two. You both slowly helped each other heal, confiding your worries and traumas in each other. You were still both ruthless when it came to apprehending the people who did you wrong but the tortures stopped and the warmth returned outside of the violence. You two actually started to make good memories and live life instead of just trying to survive. You’d often watch the sunset over the ocean together, it was peaceful and you’d chat about anything and everything.

Eventually, after dozens of raids and missions, Rafayel finds weapons that used to belong to his family at the same time you find your wings again. You kept quiet until the mission was done, knowing you could feel your wings but not wanting to startle Rafayel. You looked at the weapons with him, you put your hand on his back to show your support for him. His eyes stayed glued on the knives and his face was a painful melancholic expression. You rubbed circles into his upper back with your thumb, hoping it could ease some of the pain caused by resurfacing memories.

After ensuring that the weapons would be sent to his personal studio, he continues to explore the mansion with you, following you while you find your wings. You communicated to him about your wings and he knew this would be tough for you too but you were both glad you had each other in this moment.

When you saw your wings in a display case at the end of one of the hallways, you bit back tears. It was a lot to take in. You passed millions of dollars worth of paintings to reach the most priceless thing in this whole building. Rafayel lags slightly behind you, wanting to give you a moment. You turn to face him, telling him that you don’t know if you want the wings back or not. Would they make you complete again? They can’t bring anyone back, can’t take away the pain. You couldn’t hide them like Rafayel could hide his true form, would it be a nuisance?

Rafayel makes his way towards you as you ramble, clearly distressed. He quickly envelopes you in a hug, letting you cry lightly into his chest, a painting of Lucifer on the wall next to you. You stay like that for a while. When he finally pulls back, he cups your face with his hands. You were his fallen angel, he wasn’t always great with his words but he truly spoke from the heart when comforting you like this.

“You never needed these wings to be complete, you’re ethereal with or without them. You’ll always be my angel, no matter what.”

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

#love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #l&ds x reader #xavier x reader #xavier fluff #xavier angst #zayne x reader #zayne fluff #zayne angst #rafayel x reader #rafayel fluff #rafayel angst #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace angst #lads fluff #l&ds fluff #j's silly ramblings #j's asks

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yukittywrites · 5 months ago

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You'll Love it When I Give it To You

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙

warnings: dom reader and sub yuta, nipple piercings, nipple play, coming untouched, dry humping, some light degradation

word count: 2.2k Read the full story (6.28k) here!

a/n: did i forget tumblr existed? who knows? (the answer is definitely yes) anyways, thanks for being patient. reader is gender neutral, no mentions of your genitals/race/majorly identifying features. it is implied that you and 127 are very close/you're in 127 (read how you will) but it's not really plot necessary! reader in the original story is actually mark...so you're a little mark coded but im sure you're fine with that ;))

It was only natural. Yuta had always been in love with piercings and tattoos.

Of course he'd gotten tattoos once he was permitted to. A 127 chain around his bicep, a butterfly on his hip, and finallly, a feather on his pelvis, trailing low enough that no one who saw him decent would be able to see the full thing.

Then, he'd gotten piercings as well. His ears had been pierced for ages, but he'd gotten a bunch of new holes added throughout time, until he had a near absurd amount. The last one he got, a navel piercing.

The navel piercing was painful, but worth it, especially for the reactions he got for it, and it was only the next step in his gradual transformation to his emo/v-kei/rockstar aesthetic that he'd been steadily building over time.

Nipple Piercings

They were hot, easy to show off, the company didn't care about them and the fans would love them.

So he was quick to run to the tattoo and body piercing parlor and have them shove some black studs straight through his nipples.

And he had to keep them mostly untouched (aside from a shirt or a jacket rubbing against them) for ages, but finally, the sensitivity wore off.

That was when the torture began.

It was so easy to tease him about them, because his nipples were suddenly very sensitive where they had not been before, and the members were quick to use this to their advantage, tweaking them to get a rise out of him, humiliate him, knock him down a peg, make him do something—truthfully, they used them for so many things that Yuta wasn't even sure he could recall all of them.

But, of all people, the person who didn't bother him with nipple torment was you. And, by all account, you had the most reason to.

Yuta believed that you had just seen the amount of absolute hell that he'd endured (with hell being a rather dramatic term, he really didn't hate it) and you'd decided to take mercy on him.

But, as it seemed, you were simply waiting for the right time to strike.

Doyoung, his other main victim of teasing, was probably the only other person who had a justified reason to tweak his nipples so much, had definitely gotten his fair share already, and you definitely deserved it too, because Yuta just loved to tease you in a different way.

He lived for the rise he could get out of you with overly suggestive comments, revelling in how you would turn red and sputter whenever flirted with.

A suggestive comment here, a lip bite or wink there, a gesture that was far too dirty to be entirely innocent (like that one time he got white yogurt on his hand and made eye contact with you as he licked it all off his hand in the dirtiest way possible.), all of them would leave you a mess, choking on sputtered protests in mashed up Korean and your native language.

And all he'd do was smile brightly, then slip away to do nonsense, leaving you before you could even recover.

So, anyway. Yuta thought you were a benevolent saint who ignored what everyone else was doing.

Yuta was (unsurprisingly) wrong, and just like how it happened with Doyoung, he probably earned it.

Yuta starts it.

“Dude, that’s literally massive.” You say. You're referring to the size of the package that Johnny just walked past the doorway with, because the box really was huge.

But of course, Yuta couldn’t pass up an opportunity to tease you a little bit. “Yeah? I’m sure I could think of a lot of things that are massive, Y/n.”

It’s not his best work, but it gets the point across, and you flush beet red. Yuta snickers.

This is your time. You blink at him for a second or two, and Yuta can see the gears turning in your head. It’s almost like you're buffering, and Yuta opens up his mouth to make another retort, but you seem to understand his idea at the same time because you move from the chair you're sitting on to climb on top of him.

And not in the same way that the others had done, no. You shove his chest into the back of the chair and settles your body on top of it in a way that is practically obscene.

Yuta, for once, is speechless. His lips part in sheer shock, and you can't help but grin. “A lot of things, huh?” You question, your voice mantaining a teasing lilt, blended with something that Yuta’s never heard from you before.

“Yep. Why? Do you want to know what they might be?” Yuta replies, despite internally screaming, because YOU are sitting on his lap, pressing him into the chair, looking down at him, and he thinks he might lose his mind.

“You’re so cocky, Yuta.” You say, your hands move from the arms of the chair.

“And what reason would I have not to be?”

“Hmm…” You fake contemplate, “This.”

Then, your hands connect with Yuta’s nipples, both of them at once, and the sensation is different.

It’s not like how it was when everyone else touched him—this is closer to how it felt when he touched them himself, and his body spasms.

You seem to take this as the same sort of spasming that would occur whenever the others would touch him, so you do it again, and Yuta writhes, lips pressing into a thin line.

“Most people don’t react this way when someone does this.” You tell him, stating the obvious.

“Well, n-no shit!” He hisses. His voice is too pitchy to bite back his real reaction, and he stutters a little.

You laugh, evidently amused by the reaction that you're getting. When you rubs them again, Yuta releases some noise that’s in between a whine and a gasp, a little too suggestive to be purely a gasp of shock.

However, Mark’s favourite past time is to make suspicious noises, so they're not that uncommon, and so you must not even realise that Yuta is not joking.

You take your hand and pinch his fucking nipple through his shirt, and despite the buffer of fabric between the two of you, it is game over for Yuta because his back arches. One hand shoots out to grab at your waist for stability, and the noise that leaves his throat is clearly one of arousal.

You still instantly, and Yuta panics, because this is really fucking weird. You are touching his nipples and sitting on his lap, and Yuta is holding onto your waist, skin flushed.

He gets ready to apologise—to say sorry because he’s really weird for getting off on this right now, especially when he was fine while everyone else touched him—but you shift your weight slightly.

Oh. Oh no. He’s hard. Like, rock hard. He hadn’t realised it because he was more focused on trying not to reveal to you what he was thinking, but now that you have moved, he can feel it.

And you can too.

Your lips curl up into a smile again, though Yuta can see something else swimming in your eyes.

“Is that a lightstick in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?” you question, leaning in (and down) to be a little bit closer to him.

Your hair covers his eyes when you do.

Yuta swallows, “Y-Y/n, I didn’t—uhm.” His Korean fails him for the first time in a while, and he closes his lips again.

“I thought they were sensitive, but I didn’t know they were sensitive like that.” You tease, and Yuta wonders if, for a moment, you've switched personalities, because usually he’s the one teasing you, and it’s never this intense either—

“Uh. They aren’t—well, they weren’t before. Not when the others touched them.” Yuta replies, and now you really smile.

“So you are happy to see me.”

Yuta doesn’t know how to reply, but again, he opens his mouth, and you rolls a nipple at the same time, and his brain short circuits.

“Oh.” He moans, his eyes slipping closed for a moment. When they peel back open, you're staring at him in fascination.

“You really like this.”

“I—” But you're right, because he does, and he likes you too. “Yeah. It’s the piercings. They make it so…it’s so sensitive.”

You hum, slipping your hand up under Yuta’s shirt, touching his waist where his belly button piercing is, then you pause and takes your hand out.

“Can I…” It’s hesitant, because if you pull off Yuta’s shirt, then you two have to acknowledge what’s happening.

Yuta nods quickly, and you decide that is a talk for later, as you slide his shirt right off, pulling it off his body.

Yuta’s piercings catch in the light: the stone on his belly button, the metal barbells on his nipples, the chain dangling from them (which totally wasn’t so he could pull it later).

“I still can’t believe the company let you get these…” You whisper

“Don’t talk about the company right now." Yuta replies. "We all know what they think.”

“They’re so pretty too.” You say, thumbing at his left, and Yuta’s fingers twitch.

“Thanks,” he replies, his eyes almost falling shut again.

Your fingers twitch towards a barbell, obviously wanting to touch it.

“You can—you can touch them; pull them.”

“Pull it? But, dude, doesn’t it hurt?”

“Of course it hurts, but it’s a good hurt.”

You laugh, “Good hurt? I didn't know you were into that.”

You do grab the end of the piece between your fingernails, regardless, and pull it softly.

Yuta’s arm stops working, and it falls off your waist limply. “Mmmh~ Fuck.”

“Oh my god. I can’t believe we’re doing this.” You says, a little frantic. You pull again Yuta’s hips buck up. They brush against your inner thigh, and Yuta moans again.

“You can pull harder—please. As hard as you want, Y-Y/n, it’ll feel good.” Yuta says, near desperate.

“Slut.” You whisper, and it jars Yuta, but the moment he processes it, he whimpers.

You can't help but pull at his barbell fervently.

“Oh, god!” Yuta cries out, his head lolling back and his hips rolling against your thigh.

Your thighs are muscled and firm against his cock as he grinds against it, and you don't move it.

“You like this? Grinding against my thigh and begging me to make you hurt?” You question.

You're a little baby dom, Yuta can tell—into being condescending and a little bit of pain but not quite secure in it—and somehow it’s still just as hot.

“Y-Yeah. So good, it’s so good. Fuck, Y/N!” Yuta moans, his tone pitching into something whiny and desperate.

You laugh, “I always thought you were a dom top, Yuta. It turns out that you really just want to feel good. You’ll beg for it, won’t you? You’d beg for me to make you feel that pain?”

“Yes, yes, I’d beg if you made me! Please, please. Do you want me to? I really want it—”

“Aw, Yuta. I won’t make you beg for me.” You tease, pushing your thigh closer to Yuta’s cock for him to grind against even harder.

“Thank you!” Yuta gasps, his head lolling back again, as he takes advantage of your benevolence.

You giggls, leaning close to him and pressing a kiss to his neck, trailing down to his chest. The position looks uncomfortable, pretzel-like, as you bend your head in a weird way to do so. Yuta would mention it if his brain wasn’t actively draining from his head.

You kiss his pec, then, in one fluid movement, suck a nipple into your mouth and suck.

“Nngh! Fuck, Y-Y/n~” He practically wails, his chest arching into your hold, begging for any pleasure, then spasming away, causing you to lose contact.

“Come on, Yuta. I thought you wanted it?” You sneer.

“I do! I do—”

“Then stop moving and take it.” You tell him before grabbing his waist and putting your lips back on Yuta’s nipples.

“Oh god.”

Yuta has never been more horny in life, pleasure bursting behind his eyelids as you tongue at his nipples and pull on his piercing with your teeth.

Your leg is digging into his crotch, and somehow, even that feels great.

His hips spasm rapidly, and a garbled whine strains from his throat.

“I’m gonna—Y/n, I’ll cum—oh fuck!” He cries out.

You giggle against his nipple, and that’s it for him.

Stuttered mash ups of Japanese cries of him cumming spill from his lips as he cries out, ”Iku! Y/n, Y/n, iku~ I’m c-c—”

Yuta’s head falls back, and his eyes roll until only the whites are present. His body stills entirely, his mouth open in a silent moan.

You let him bask in the feeling before pulling away.

“I can’t believe that we did that.” You whisper quietly.

Yuta laughs, breathless. “Yeah, me either. That was crazy, but I don’t think we’re done yet.”

“Wh—oh!” You cry out, as you're spun around.

It's going to be a long night.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙

Again: read the full story here!

#smut #sub!idol #sub!kpop #yuta smut #dom!reader #nct 127 smut #nakamoto yuta #nct smut #nct drabbles #sub yuta #nct yuta #nct #yuta drabble #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader

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toptophat · 1 month ago

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2.6 thoughts!!!!

Spoilers for anyone who hasn't finished it yet!

It was a freaking blast, a rollercoaster of emotions, I honestly thought that Mr Reca, with how cuckoo he was in the trailer, was gonna be the antagonist, turns out he's a quirky memokeeper (who may still have his motives but for now he was definitely an ally) I guess, much like the galaxy rangers, there is no uniform, because I honestly thought they all would have some resemblance to Black Swan, but I can't wait to see more memokeepers, as well as more galaxy rangers

Speaking of galaxy rangers, ok!! Rappa and Boothill were the real protagonists here!!!! Poor trailblazer became a side character to these two champions and I love it!!! I've already made it clear that I adored Rappa from the moment her drip marketing dropped, I initially found her strange way of referring to everything as ninja stuff hilarious and quirky, I thought "are all galaxy rangers gonna talk funny?" But that was my first impression, now I wanna [forking] cry!!! I was already skeptical of this "Master Kucha" from the way he spoke! I didn't know that he was basically like the only parental figure she had, she's one of Dr Primitive's (Evil Ninja Osaru) test subjects in a hidden lab (Ninja capital) having to undergo harmful tests and torture (Ninja trials) this, coupled with the fact that her only source of free time and entertainment has been a ninja manga, she may have developed some sort of mental/ identity disorder, she's been living in a fabricated reality and no one can help her because they don't see the full picture, even her backstory has been distorted by her own retelling making her some sort of unreliable narrator in her own story. Dr Primitive is truly a despicable monster, torturing people and distorting an innocent girl's mind. There's a bright side to this tragedy though! That innocent girl is now our Rappa, and although her mind has been messed with, she still became a righteous galaxy ranger, kindhearted, unmatched skill, hellbent on hunting down the cruel doctor and she definitely lives up to that title too!!! So I'm rooting for her!!! And the moment we got to fight alongside her at the end after hearing "No Dazzle No Break" was gorgeous (can't wait to finish building her so she can continue to show them the way of the ninja!)

Once I finish reading her character story, I'll make a further analysis

Speaking of which, I'm actually gonna make 2!! One for both of our stars of the show, Rappa and Boothill, two people who had to revisit their past, and come to terms with their present and future, living up to the ways of The Hunt! I already deeply respect these two, the more I get of them, the more I can't help but respect them more!!! And I'm definitely excited to get more of them!! Galaxy rangers are the best!!

Boothill's up first because obviously I've already read his backstory so his POV was like an added 5 course meal!!! But I do wanna talk about his best moments (aside from the obvious highlight that blew me away) Firstly, we got more of Boothill the identity stealer (First Pom Pom now March 7th???) Actual Robinhill moments??? (I'm more of a GunsNRoses person now but it's still really cute) The way he was so relieved that he could "fake swear" again instead of the banana cussing was hilarious, Star Rail don't do this to my man, at least give him the "Ninja slang" treatment, let him swear 😭😭 And Boothill owned the dancefloor in the DJ Robin cutscene!!! We have a rapping ninja and a dancing cowboy, could this get any better!!! And obviously, there's the Lore!!!! Which was actually insane !!! I literally wanted to avoid spoilers in order to experience it blindly and it was worth it!!!! I wanted to [fudging] cry, it was so well done!! Andrew Russell and Kendell Byrd knocked it out of the park with their scenes!!! I freaking love Boothill and Rappa so much 😭😭😭 they're both life my dude!!!

This is just what I needed!!!

#hsr 2.6 #boothill #hsr boothill #boothill honkai star rail #boothill is life my dude #rappa #hsr rappa #rappa honkai star rail #rappa is life my dude #galaxy rangers are life my dude #hsr #honkai star rail #spoilers for 2.6 #hsr spoilers

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callsign-rogueone · 6 months ago

Text

not alone - r.g.

Ridoc Gamlyn x reader part three of Ridoc and Sweetheart’s story. words: 1.8k 🏷: Iron Flame spoilers in a vague sense, reader experiencing the joys of RSC, implications of torture but it’s not shown, mild panic attack / anxiety spiral / self-deprecating thoughts, bring tissues maybe, “happy” ending, Ridoc (and Sawyer) to the rescue! I am so stuck on the first-date scene that I just skipped it for now but it will happen eventually, I promise!!

This has to be a dream. It feels like something out of an adventure novel — waking up in a literal dungeon, chained to the wall.

“Rhith?”

You wait a few seconds, but she doesn’t respond. Oh, gods, what if she… no, she’s okay. She has to be okay, because you’re okay. Maybe she’s asleep or off hunting or something.

But she’s never not responded to you before. She’s always replied, always been there to assuage your worries and remind you that it’ll be okay, just breathe.

Breathe. Deep breaths, think about the butterflies… You look up, seeing no trace of them, no flutter of blue wings in the dim mage light of the room that you can’t seem to brighten, either.

You try it again, picturing them more clearly, thinking about the patterns on their wings and the colors… Nothing.

Something is definitely wrong.

Why can’t you make a simple illusion? Is your signet broken? Is that why you’re down here? Is this some kind of reconditioning? A punishment? Or are you here to be executed for being defective?

“Rhith?” you try again, still working to steady your breathing, but every second that passes without a response only tightens the knot around your heart.

There’s no use. She’s not going to respond, because she’s given up on you, finally realized she’d chosen poorly, that you aren’t fit to be a rider after all, and decided to do away with you before the next Threshing, where she could choose a better rider, one who doesn’t need constant reassurance and hand-holding like a child.

The door swings open, a uniformed infantry officer stepping inside, here to decide your fate. He’s fully armed, a short blade in his hand, ready to carve into your skin or to pierce your heart, put you out of your misery — to thin the herd, to separate the wheat from the chaff.

“I’m sorry,” you plead, as if that will change her mind. “I’m so sorry, I promise I’ll try harder, I’ll prove to you that I can handle it, just please don’t give up on me, don’t leave me here to die, please…”

He scoffs at you. “Crying already? This is going to be easier than I thought.”

You can’t dry your tears with your hands tied behind your back, so you settle for blinking them away and willing them to stop — you need to be strong if you want to get out of this room alive and see your brother and sister and the rest of your family again.

Family. That’s it — to convince them you’re worth it, you need to be someone else, someone who is worth it, like your brothers.

You’re going to get through this. You’re going to endure whatever they put you through like Garrick would, and do it all with a straight face like Xaden, and be brave like Liam and smart like Brennan, and then Rhith will take you back, and everything will be okay again; you just need to stay strong.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Ridoc can’t find you at breakfast— you aren’t sitting with Bodhi and Imogen and the other marked ones like you always do. Maybe you’re sleeping in, he decides. The thought is a small comfort to him, but he can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.

He hadn’t seen you all weekend, but that much is normal — he’d spent Saturday afternoon with his friends at the tavern in town, and you aren’t the going-out type; you’d rather curl up with a book to distract yourself from the rest of the world and it’s cruelty.

You hadn’t answered your door when he’d come to extend you the invitation, but he’d just assumed you were elsewhere. And your relationship is new, anyway, new enough that the word relationship probably isn’t the best to describe what the two of you have — you’ve been on two dates. You aren’t going to be spending every hour of your spare time together.

But you aren’t at morning formation either, and as he settles into his usual seat at Battle Brief, you’re still nowhere to be found. There’s no denying it now; this isn’t a series of coincidences, this is a pattern, and something is definitely wrong.

Second squad seems to all realize what’s happening at once.

“I’m sure she’s okay,” Sawyer tries, but Ridoc seems unconvinced, bouncing his leg under the table nervously. His eyes snap toward the door as it creaks open, one person walking through.

You make it up to the back of the lecture hall, settling into the open chair beside Ridoc, your usual spot these days.

Everyone’s eyes widen at the cuts and bruises across your arms and face, knowing there’s likely even more covered by your clothes.

“Are you okay?” Violet asks in a whisper, knowing it’s a stupid question, but wanting to say something anyway.

You nod, chewing your lip. “I’m fine, but I can’t feel Rhith. I don’t know what happened.”

You’ve been trying all morning, had tried all night when they’d finally left you to sleep… you haven’t heard anything from her in two full days, but the infantry officer had let you go free, so you must have passed whatever test they’d given you, decided you were worthy of being a rider after all.

Guilt flickers in Ridoc’s chest - he should have told you, given you some kind of warning. “They did the same thing to us last week. It was something in the water. It’ll wear off soon, I promise.” He holds a hand out, a small icicle forming in his palm that he wraps in a piece of soft fabric. “Here.”

You take it from him, holding it to the killer bruise forming on your jaw from where the officer’s fist had nearly broken it. “Thank you.”

You’re exhausted. You’d barely had enough time to shower before class started, and you’re pretty sure you’re concussed; it’s hard to think, and everything is too bright in here, too loud…

You turn your gaze back to the professor, but don’t take any notes, don’t make any move to take a pen and paper from your bag, letting your eyes fall shut as Devera continues her analysis. It goes in one ear, out the other, but you know none of it is true anyway, or if it is, it’s only half the story.

The ice is starting to melt against the warmth of your skin, dripping down your wrist. He takes it back, letting it disappear into thin air and pocketing the wet handkerchief silently, resting an arm on the back of your chair and pressing a soft kiss to your bruised temple.

You blink awake at the sound of everyone getting up to leave — you must have gotten almost an hour of sleep. It’s taken some of the edge off, but your entire body still aches as you rise from your seat.

“Aotrom says she’s on the flight field,” Ridoc says, shouldering your bag before you can protest. “Do you wanna go see her?”

You just nod in response, your jaw still aching too much to speak. You make the walk up in silence, your heart clenching when you see Rhith standing there, waiting for you.

The comforting voice is finally back in your head. “Hello, sweet one.”

“Hi,” you say aloud, voice wavering.

She lowers her head to you, letting you stroke a hand over the dark green scales of her nose. “I would never want to replace you, sweet one. You are just as strong and just as valuable as your brothers, and I chose you for a reason.”

You realize that she’d heard it all, your desperate pleas for her to spare your life, the promises that you’d be better, thinking she’d abandoned you…

“I’m sorry for thinking that, I just… my signet stopped working, and I couldn’t hear you…” you’re going to cry just thinking about it. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she soothes. “Try it again.”

You take a breath and close your eyes, picturing a butterfly. When you open them, you can see one floating through the gentle afternoon breeze. You add another, just to be sure that it wasn’t a fluke, and another… three of them now, content to flutter around in front of you.

Ridoc is still watching you, silent. The look of relief on your face breaks his heart.

He realizes that by separating you from Rhith, they’d taken away your only friend in that room. He’d had Rhiannon and Violet and Sawyer by his side the whole time, but you’d been entirely alone; no marked ones, nobody from your squad — you’re the only second-year left. They’d taken your best coping mechanism as well, your ability to self-soothe with your gentle projections.

Rhith looks up at Ridoc, who stands a respectful distance away, your bookbag slung over his shoulder. “She says thank you,” you relay for her, “for taking care of me.”

Ridoc smiles. “Always, sweetheart. Now let's get you to the healers, hm?”

He holds out a hand, and you hesitate a moment before you take it, intertwining your fingers loosely. His skin is warm against yours, soft, gentle, safe. When you make it down the hill and across the bridge to the infirmary, you almost don’t want to let go.

You stay as close to Ridoc as you can for the rest of the day. He treats you incredibly carefully, even after you’ve been mended back to normal, the cuts healed and bruises faded completely.

You’re grateful to wake up in your own bed the next morning, silently getting ready for the day and falling into your place at morning formation.

“Atken,” Dain calls, gesturing for you to come see him. “You’re being transferred.”

What? Why? Your heart races, but you follow him silently, stopping in front of a different squad, in Fourth Wing.

“I think you already know most of your squadmates,” he prompts.

You take a good look at them — nearly all of your friends; Imogen and Sloane and Violet, and now Ridoc and his friends too. You might cry. “Thank you,” you say quietly.

“Don’t thank me, thank those two. They made quite the argument for transferring you.” He nods toward Ridoc and Sawyer — they both smile at you, Ridoc grinning from ear to ear, Sawyer looking rather bashful.

“So you won’t have to be alone anymore,” Ridoc answers before you can ask.

You fall into the formation beside him, reaching over to hook your pinky around his in a tiny show of appreciation. “Thank you.”

He smiles at you, warm and bright, keeping your fingers interlocked through the morning roll and announcements.

Maybe your second year won’t be so bad anymore.

#ridoc and sweetheart #ridoc gamlyn x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #mine #ridoc gamlyn

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