#until eventually he managed to escape

[softquietsteadylove]

Can you write a story which thena and gil a childhood best friend but one day gil got kidnapped and everyone assume his dead but not thena her family even sent her to a mental institution to make her better, Year after year past she still can't accept gil is gone, then one day Gil appear in front of her out of nowhere and was like "Sorry to keep you waiting"

"Hi, I'm Gil."

She could always remember him being like that--so warm and open and inviting. She had met him as just a little boy, her age, maybe a year older. And when kids are young like that, one year can be a huge difference to overcome, but young Gil had come right up to her, a gap between his front teeth and the biggest smile she had ever seen.

"Wanna be friends?"

The would become the very best of friends. Always together, always doing something, or nothing, so long as they didn't have to be apart for it. He would play anything with her, even if it was a game 'for girls', or 'babies', like her brother would say it was. Gil would collect butterflies with her, or help her learn to braid hair, or set up elaborate tea parties. They did everything together.

Even as they got older, and even as they gained other friends, nothing came between them. Ikaris still always insisted it was dumb that Gil liked playing with his baby sister more than him, but neither of them cared. And Sersi and Makkari never minded Gil playing with them.

Not even starting school divided them. They weren't exactly in the same class, but recess and lunch were their little moments of reprieve. Gil would share the snacks and lunch he got as a growing boy, and Thena would happily trade away the parts of her lunch she didn't like but knew Gil enjoyed. Everything else could wait, whether it was school, or their own circles of friends.

They were barely 11 years old when Gil went missing.

"Hi sweetie," she could remember a police officer kneeling down in front of her. "Do you remember the last time you saw your friend?"

"Lunch," she had answered, feeling completely numb. She had already assumed something was wrong when Gil was nowhere to be found when it was time to walk home together. "We always have lunch together."

"And do you always walk home the same way?"

There were plenty of questions like that. Thena could remember Gil's family and hers mulling around their home, police officers walking in and out all evening. Gil was missing--just vanished in the few minutes no one from the school had eyes on him and before she rounded the corner from her classroom at the back of the building to join him.

If she had been with him just a minute earlier, it could have saved him.

Everyone told her not to think that way, of course. She was put in counselling, but her determination that Gil was still out there somewhere was 'something to keep an eye on'. The word 'obsessed' was tossed around plenty as well, but Thena had more important things to worry about: Gil.

Makkari and Sersi were worried too, but their support exceeded their concerns. They supported her when she said she wanted to go into criminal psychology. They supported her obsession with true crime and morbid and macabre curiosities. Even if they were worried, they understood why she was possessed by the idea of understanding what would make a person do something like that. And more importantly, learning about what would happen during, and then after the abduction.

For all those calling it a sick obsession, it served her well. It drove her like nothing else. She excelled, advanced quickly and aggressively in all she did. Who cared what the reason was? At least she was doing something, unlike everyone who had inevitably given up on him.

The officers who had hounded her with questions?--gone. The judge who deemed the case cold?--nothing. Her own family--Gil's own family! Ikaris believed it too, but every time he tried to tell her to give up for her own well being they just got into a huge, violent fight over it. So he stopped trying to convince her.

Once she had enough knowledge to begin her own investigation, then it was a bridge too far. The worry could no longer wait, and everyone decided that she needed help. Sersi and Makkari pleaded her case, but her parents deemed her mentally unfit. Even Ikaris stood by as she was hauled away into the back of a van, kicking and screaming for all of the neighbours to whisper about.

Let them watch, she figured. It was a good opportunity for her to remind them that they had failed an 11 year old boy because of their blind eyes.

"Go on."

Thena lifts her eyes and then looks back down at her lap. They ask her this every year, around the time Gil disappeared. There are plenty of other routine appointments through the year, but they only bring up Gil and her past at this certain time.

If she just admits that there's no way he's still alive, and that her obsession is a coping mechanism, then she gets to go home.

"He's alive," she claims outright, nailing another stake in her coffin. Her eyes are clear as she looks at the psychiatrist who then scribbles something in her notes. Thena narrows her eyes at her, "I know he is."

"Tell me more about Gil," the psych asks of her, switching tactics instead of locking horns with her. Not that it gets anyone anywhere.

Thena sighs. She has nothing better to do, staring out the window of the office and at the leaves changing. "Gil was...the best."

"Gil was sweet. He was sweet in a way boys usually aren't, especially so young. But he liked playing quiet games or drawing or playing house more than he did roughhousing. Other kids called him names for it, of course, but he didn't care."

She smiles.

"We would play house, and he would braid my hair and wave me off to work," she laughs at the memory of how they thought the world worked back then. "I would come home and he would have a beautiful pretend meal set out for us. He would put on whatever music we could find and ask me to dance for our anniversary."

"That sounds very sweet."

Thena glares at the woman for interrupting her blissful trip down memory lane. But she continues. "Gil was always sweet. Even when we got older, started school, he never stopped spending time with me even though I was a girl, or I was younger than him. He would defend me from older children and I would defend him from just about anyone else."

"He wanted to be a chef," Thena says, and her throat tightens and she chokes on her air. Because he would have become such a brilliant chef, and he would have that smile he always had, and she doesn't even know what he looks like now.

"It sounds like you two loved each other very much."

Thena doesn't bother answering that. No one understands, anyway. Everyone likes to think of their friendship as this precious thing of the past, like they were such angelic things. Everyone acts as if her memories of Gil are all she has left of him.

"Thena," the therapist shifts in her seat as she tries to breach more dangerous territory. "I know how much you love Gil. Can you tell me how this time of year makes you feel?"

Not this bullshit. Thena resists the urge to roll her eyes, looking out the window again. The leaves are changing, and it makes her think of the leaf Gil saved for her the morning he disappeared. He gave it to her before school, claiming he'd never seen a leaf the colour of her hair before.

She still has it. It's one of her few possessions, pressed into an old and worn copy of Robert Frost work. She sighs, "Gil liked poetry."

The therapist resigns herself to being ignored.

"He liked making things rhyme, rudimentary literary devices, jokes and brain teasers," Thena smiles again, now just speaking aloud to herself. "I told him he could be a poet. He said it wouldn't pay well, and then how would we do things like pay mortgages and have two cars?"

"He really thought of everything."

He did. Gil was very forward thinking as a child. He always considered every possible angle of something, despite looking more like a kid who would act first and think later.

All the more reason to believe that he wouldn't have just wandered off with someone, or that he would have found a way to escape if he did get plucked off the street somehow.

"Thena-"

"I believe that's our time," she cuts the therapist off, standing and beginning to walk out the door on her own. She's been here long enough that they aren't quite as strict with her.

"Indeed," the psych stands as well, at least giving her the respect of sending her off properly. "I'll see you next week."

"Can't wait," Thena mutters as she heads for the common area. Sometimes she wonders if prison would be better than this place. At least prisoners are allowed to keep things in their cells.

It'll be winter soon, and she'll think about Gil, wonder if he has to endure winters in some terrible little cellar. Or maybe he did manage to get away, because he was always clever. Maybe he managed to find a new life for himself somewhere.

After a trauma like that, maybe his mentality was so affected he wouldn't be her Gil anymore anyway. A morbid thought, but she didn't study psychology for some delusion that he could be completely unaffected by it all.

She has been in this mental institution for years now, too. Her parents don't want anything to do with her, and she could be released if they weren't funnelling money in to keep her here. All they want is to hear that she's forgotten about Gil completely.

Well, it's never going to happen, so her parents can go to hell.

Thena arrives in the common area, devoid of anyone else this close to meal time. The food is awful anyway. She would rather starve and think about Gil's cookies he would make every winter.

She leans on the windowsill, looking out at the trees. "These woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep."

"And miles to go before I sleep."

She doesn't turn to look at who's joining her. She doesn't much care, and she doesn't recognise the voice, although it is familiar.

"And miles to go before I sleep."

It is familiar. It's soft, and gentle, deeper than she imagined it. Soft steps come closer to her.

"And be one traveller, long I stood," it continues until it's right behind her, "and looked down one as far I could."

"To where it bent in the undergrowth," Thena finishes and frowns. She knows why she knows this poem, and plenty of others from the same volume. But it's rare to find someone else who does.

"Your hair's so long, now."

She stares at the window as gentle hands run through her hair, mindful not to hurt her as they start to wind the locks together. Her throat tightens and she chokes on her air, "y-you still remember how to braid?"

He just chuckles, and it's when she hears the hint of his laughter that she realises this is real. She hasn't finally succumbed to this hell around her and lost it.

She turns. Her hair is half braided down her back, but Gilgamesh is standing there, still just a year older than her, but looking completely unlike he once did. But it's definitely Gil. "You're here."

"It's our anniversary," he smiles at her like when they were children, playing house in her backyard. He holds his hands out, "sorry to keep you waiting."

[t4tstarvingdog]

had the craziest nightmare today. hit every nightmare genre and added a new one just for me

[a-story-teller]

Had another dream story idea and it's BAD out here y'all. My subconscious said "you don't go for sad old white men yaoi? Well here's one and you have to care about it so much. Good luck"

[kachulein]

I guess my dream is quite long and detailed... I reached all 30 tags so I'll finish it off below the cut:

(Also TW: violence/murder for both the tags and below the cut)

He addressed me as Kitty or Kitten and basically treated and talked to me as if I was a cat and he had no bigger joys in life than to "play" with me now.

Me cowering in the corner was even more ironic now because the dynamic man versus cat was kind of established that way

At this point my brain was going into overdrive - how was I supposed to get out of this alive? The only chance I had was to catch him by surprise, sneak around him and escape through the door, so that's what I tried when I felt as if the right moment had come

I quickly got up and dashed around him, he turned in surprise but managed to hold on to me and drag me back before I had been able to fully exit the room

Now I was pressed up against his side and he was making even more snide and disgusting/creepy/predatory comments, really enjoying the thought of me as a human "kitty cat" and anticipating the moment in which he could take my last breath away

He started strangling me with his hands, I'm not sure if he also injured me with a weapon, I only remember how my neck was very bloody afterwards - especially on one side, so he might've injured me there with a knife

But at that point, that wasn't important to me as I was gasping for air and trying my best to make my struggle be heard and scream in some way, shape, or form

I think it was successful as I heard someone running up the stairs while I started getting dizzier with every second, my system screaming for oxygen while I was struggling against his hold

Suddenly, though, the door slammed open and it revealed my cousin standing there, a furious spark of anger in his eyes

He didn't hesitate one bit when he flung himself at the guy, tore him away from me and fell on the bed right next to us with him

Then I only saw him hovering over the guy, taking out a knife and stabbing and slitting his throat, blood splattering out and covering the sheets as the guy's body went limp

It was finally over, I had survived, and my cousin had saved me

When the police arrived we were like "y'all couldn't have come here a bit sooner??"

I met the woman/girlfriend again, she was taken away in handcuffs, looking saddened

As she passed by me she told me she really loved him even though she never liked what he'd done to other people (not just those he murdered, but also the mistreatment of others, etc.)

I asked her if he had been abusive towards her, too, but she told me that he had always been the most amazing and sweetest guy to her and she never had to fear he'd do anything bad to her

I was glad to hear that, I told her that I was sorry it had to end like this and we parted ways on kinda good terms, so to say ???

When I got home I finally had a chance to examine my condition and potential injuries (apparently I wasn't brought to a doctor or hospital?)

My neck definitely had marks on it and you could tell someone had tried to strangle me to death, and then I also found the blood stain on the left side of my neck

But I couldn't recall a moment in which I was injured there, so I thought that I hadn't noticed it while I was almost killed :'))

and then I woke up-

Reblog and put in the tags a dream you had that seems like you're making it up when describing it but it's something you genuinely dreamed.

[sukunasweetheart]

<the butterfly perched upon you>

slice of lifey vibes with trueform sukuna! youre like a servant-turned-girlfriend to him and dont mind me making it the clumsy girl trope sorry... lots of falling over and making a fool of yourself oops- mostly lighthearted, eventual romance, fluffy, very minor/implied smut. mentions of cannibalism, murder.

the warning of ooc sukuna goes without saying <3 hope u enjoy nonetheless <3

dividers by @/saradika, @/firefly-graphics and @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more

word count; 8.1k

how can someone be this useless?

its not uncommon that you trip over your own feet. the food you try to make always ends up charred and inedible. and anything that wounds up in your hands seem to either break or get misshapen. seriously, uraume considers you an eyesore.

very much like a stressed mother in law, they try to whip you up into shape to best please lord sukuna, but you can't do a thing right. goodness gracious.

there are only a handful of servants here at the lord's estate, mainly due to how he dislikes crowds and has a low tolerance for people in general, and will only accept a few for maintenance of his abode only. and yet, an awfully incapable and bumbling girl like you finds yourself at such a place. uraume wouldn't be surprised if lord sukuna lopped your head off one day, if he managed to catch sight of your silly mistakes.

the servants have very minimal contact with the lord. he's often out tormenting whomever challenges him on the battlefield, and even when he's home, none of you are brave enough to be loitering about in areas where he's currently present. uraume is the only one who usually speaks with him directly.

today, you've been reluctantly given the job of wiping down the floorboards of the engawa before the courtyard. you quite like this, because it's nice and sunny outside, and so you'll get to admire the butterflies while you work.

theres a pretty little pond with koi fish here as well, and you've been permitted to feed them some vegetable and seafood scraps, so you'll be doing that afterwards.

you've run up and down against the wooden flooring a couple of times with a rag, and soon enough, you get catch eye of a bright blue butterfly that flutters around the garden. you stand on the edge of the engawa, absorbed with the view. it's not everyday that you get to be here, after all. allegedly, this is lord sukuna's favourite spot to lounge about when he's home.

you get so distracted that you don't notice the intimidating presence behind you, even though he's a man whose aura bleeds all over the place, wherever he may be. sukuna looms over you and is silent as he ponders taking your head for annoying him by standing about in front of him like an airhead with an incredibly lacking sense of survival.

no, he shouldn't. he'd get more annoyed if your blood spilled over the floorboards, and he'd have to wait until the stench of your blood flees the area. however, before he can say a word of 'get lost', you manage to notice the shadow of the figure behind you.

you turn around and see him close up for the first time. a strange noise escapes your throat. you get so startled, your feet loses its balance, and you go backwards off the edge of the engawa. the dirty rag is thrown up in the air in a frenzy by accident as you try not to fall over.

thud! you're on your back on the garden floor. making haste, you frantically get into the position you were taught to get into by uraume, if you ever happened to come across lord sukuna by any chance. you kneel and lower your head until your forehead hits the ground.

and with such nice comedic timing, the dirty rag you'd thrown into the air falls directly onto the back of your head. you shut your eyes tightly and bite your lip in sheer embarrassment. you then realise that your humiliation is not what's really important right now. you might lose your life here.

perhaps you should apologise? are you even allowed to speak to him? what would you be apologising for, anyway? for breathing in the same direction as him? for not noticing him right away?

when uraume runs into the scene, what they witness is rather... unique. the useless servant girl on her knees and with a dirty rag on her head, trembling frantically. and lord sukuna, who seems to be viewing her with what seems to be mild amusement, and not annoyance.

"sukuna-sama... i apologise for any tardiness displayed by the servant. i didn't realise you would be coming here as soon as you came back."

usually, he enjoys a full meal before going out to the courtyard.

amongst your frantic thoughts, you almost tear up at the sound of that familiar voice. uraume-san! can they save you? i mean, sure, they only care about lord sukuna and him only, but surely they wouldn't want your blood to taint this perfect courtyard, right? especially when it's his favourite view!

"we shall accept any form of punishment you see fit for us."

we!? who's we?! you internally sob.

"it's fine."

a deeper voice responds. it's the first thing he's said since you noticed him.

"you can take her away. i'm going to stay here a while."

you hear the large man sit himself down.

"you. stand up and head back to your quarters."

you get up as quickly as you went down. the rag drops to the floor and you have to bend down to pick it up again with speed. you bow deeply again before following uraume out of the area. you can finally breathe again.

"consider yourself lucky. it seems sukuna-sama is in a pleasant mood today."

you later get scolded by uraume after you tearfully explained how you managed to get dirt all over your back and ended up with rag over your head.

meanwhile back in the courtyard, sukuna replays that scene of you in his head--of you turning around with eyes as wide as saucepans, something about you left an impression on him, and its not just because of way you made an absolute fool of yourself.

later, he comments to uraume about how you seemed a little different than the usual ones they pick to have as servants.

"shall i get rid of her? servants can always be replaced if you desire it, sukuna-sama."

"no, leave her. i was only curious."

uraume is left a little stunned. curious? over a mere servant girl? they are in no place to judge, but goodness, it's a rare thing for lord sukuna to be curious about somebody.

uraume has absolutely no qualms of disposing a person if they end up being no use to the lord. however, they never step out of line and act upon their own judgements alone. if there is someone who has piqued his interest, then uraume shall make sure that nothing interferes with their master's source of entertainment.

it's been a while again since you last saw lord sukuna. and you're quite thankful for it, after that humiliating first impression you gave him.

the days have been somewhat peaceful, with only the occasional grumbling from uraume, upset by your helplessness in preparing and cooking food, as usual. after multiple cuts and burns, they decided that you were not to come even a metre into the kitchen area.

that's fine by you, anyway. cleaning and sweeping while you hum your silly tunes is what you prefer.

night arrives with the moon hanging up brightly, like it always does. you think it's going to be another uneventful closure to the evening, but uraume soon appears at the servant's quarters, looking for you. they look a little uneasy. the very few other female servants whisper amongst themselves.

"sukuna-sama has requested for you. come with me."

oh...

you feeling like crying.

there is nothing that you can do. 'requested' so they may say, but everyone knows rejection means possible death. so you follow uraume outside.

walking with them in the corridor, every step feels like it's bringing you closer to disaster.

"uraume-san... what exactly is sukuna-sama requesting me for...?" you ask cautiously.

"i'm unaware know the details myself. but he's in the middle of a bath. perhaps there's a splatter of blood he can't reach on his back."

yes, but why has he chosen me out of all people?!

but you know better than to question such orders. your hands become clammy with sweat.

you reach the bath area too quickly for your liking, and uraume ushers you inside without further concern for your wellbeing. their only concern is hoping that you don't do anything to displease the lord.

lord sukuna sometimes has a tendency to act upon his own whims, but even uraume was surprised when he suddenly asked for the servant girl he met in the courtyard...

the warmth of the misty steam inside caresses your face gently and also makes your kimono stick to you uncomfortably... making you sweat even more.

lord sukuna is sitting in his oversized, wooden bathtub wordlessly, his back turned to you. splashes of crimson against his skin, just as uraume had said. you take a quiet, deep breath.

kneeling before him as per protocol, you bow your head, despite the floors being soggy with water.

"sukuna-sama. how may i assist you this evening?"

the eyes on the side of his distorted face dart down to look at you.

"it's fairly obvious, isn't it? wash the blood away."

"right away."

you stand up straight, and it was apparently too fast for your poor blood pressure, getting you dizzy momentarily. foolishly so, you still decide to take a few steps with haste on the wet, slippery floor. with a loud yelp, you slip and land on your bottom. you want to scream.

"i-i apologise..." you say tearfully, getting back up.

"...not a dull moment with you, as i figured." he uses a tone of mockery.

there's a hint of a chuckle in his voice, and you're only glad he's amused rather than annoyed at your stupidity. your backside hurts again. it hasn't even been that long since the bruises stopped hurting from the last time you fell over!

you grab a cloth to start scrubbing the man down, holding back your tears. the metallic scent is prominent, and your mind begins to wander about exactly whose blood you were currently wiping away into the bathwater. you try not to think about it too much.

it's not new information that lord sukuna kills mercilessly, and even feasts on humans should he feel like it. you've seen the types of "ingredients" uraume has used in the kitchen at times, and the blood that paints the bottom of the sink. these were all things you needed to get used to seeing and knowing as a servant at this estate.

you keep your face stern as you clean him down delicately, thoroughly. the damp, warm cloth runs along the muscles on his back, neck and shoulders. you squeeze out the blood and dip it back in clean water, before wiping again. he has a delightfully toned body, with many tattoos. and more muscles than you could ever count. you take note of the neck tattoos that resemble the lines on a butterfly's wings. it draws you in, but you have to make sure you don't get too distracted.

you notice there's some blood on his hand as well. you move towards it and clean it down, gentle in the way you go over each finger. you're holding hands with him inevitably as you have to lift it up, and this makes you realise how large this man is. your hand seems almost like a child's in comparison to his. there's something rather exhilarating, yet also terrifying about this size difference.

the hairs on the back of your head rise, for some reason. you notice how his big red eyes are boring into you from the edge of your vision. you feign ignorance and focus on cleaning.

time passes in haste as you finish wiping down the last spot of visible blood from the lord's body.

"all the blood has been cleaned away, sukuna-sama," you tell him.

"is that so?" he asks, looking down at his own body. "but there's a spot left over here," he objects, pointing to the side of his neck, vaguely.

"i- i'm sorry, i must have missed that area. i shall clean it immediately-"

you crane your neck to look towards where he was pointing, your face getting closer to his. the place he mentioned is clean. no blood in sight. you meet his eyes. his lips curl upwards, seemingly pleased.

"finally, you look this way," he says, capturing your gaze.

you freeze on the spot, face heating up.

"your... your neck seems clean... sukuna-sama," you respond quietly, unable to think of anything else to say.

"i was only teasing. was it not apparent?" he smirks at you, and you feel that your heart may burst any second now. from either fear or excitement. or both.

"pardon me. i should have noticed sooner," you say, moving your face away from his.

"...i digress. where's the fun in that? just remain gullible for me."

he flicks your forehead, making you whisper 'ouch!' under your breath.

"understood?"

"yes, my lord."

without further conversation, he stands up to his full height, the water droplets racing down against his skin. you hurriedly grab some towels for him... doing your best to avoid looking at his... ahem. when you hand over the towels, your eyes are shut tight. sukuna gives a deep chuckle.

"silly girl."

since the bath, lord sukuna has developed a tendency to call you over during unpredictable moments, and for unpredictable errands. then, he disappears again for a while. and merely moments before you get too comfortable without his presence around you, he returns to repeat it all over again.

recently, he's taken towards looking for you himself, rather than asking uraume about your whereabouts. it scares the other servants when he barges into their spaces, but he pays them little mind.

this afternoon, he finds you sweeping down the leaves away at the front of the estate, humming to your heart's content.

"i come to check what's making all that noisy ruckus... only to find out that it's you."

your whole body goes stiff at the voice, and you reflexively try to get on your knees, but he stops you.

"keep your head up," he commands you.

"your face is worth gazing at, after all," he adds, albeit under his breath.

the compliment doesn't even register into your head as you immediately stand back up, broom in hand. you thank him for the pardon.

"are you done with the sweeping, yet?" sukuna suddenly asks, looking around with his arms crossed. well-- one pair of them, at least.

"not yet, sukuna-sama. but only a little bit to go," you respond with honesty.

"come to my chambers with a plate of fruits and a knife with you, once you're done. don't take too long."

after that, he promptly takes his leave without further explanation. you stand still for a moment, as you always do. every interaction you have with him leaves you in a bit of a daze. often, you wonder if he's a part of your daydreams.

you shake your head and continue to sweep, silently, this time around. don't take too long, he had ordered.

after you're done with that, you make your way into the kitchen on your tiptoes. you wonder if uraume would believe you, if you were to tell them that you're entering upon sukuna's own request.

but once you make your appearance to the entrance of the kitchen, uraume is already there, ready with a tray with a plate of assorted fruits on it. and a knife sitting next to the plate. the sight of the sharp utensil makes you feel nervous, somewhat.

you take the tray without a word, and head towards the lord's chambers.

three sharp knocks.

"sukuna-sama. i've come with the items you sought for. may i come in?"

"you may."

you slide the door open, and sukuna is there, waiting on the tatami mat while holding a kiseru in his hand. once you enter, he sets it aside after one more puff.

"put it here," he points towards the empty space in front of him.

you place the tray down where he gestured towards, and then sit yourself in front of him. there's a moment of silence as you flicker your gaze from looking at him, to the fruit before you.

"well? what are you waiting for? prepare it for me."

oh, no. you had prayed with every ounce in your body, that he wouldn't request for such a thing, but of course it didn't work. now, you have to display your terrible cutting skills to the very head of this estate.

hands trembling, you reach out for the knife and pick up a peach from the plate. you make a cut towards the seed in the middle. then, you cut diagonally to get one slice out. sukuna opens up his hand, waiting for you to place it in the middle of his palm. you do so, and the piece looks so pathetically tiny that you almost feel ashamed.

"faster," he demands, with a small smile on his face.

you swallow thickly, and try to speed up your cutting. the pieces get more and more jagged and unsightly. but sukuna doesn't display any signs of anger or annoyance.

"such poor knife skills. no wonder uraume left you to do the cleaning only. is that really the best you can do?" he taunts you, laughing through his nose.

"i'm afraid so... i apologise for my lack of skills, sukuna-sama," you confess, trying not to make your lower lip wobble from the anxiety and dejection. did he bring you here just to mock the way you cut fruits?! your brows furrow in determination and you try harder.

after the peaches, you grab a persimmon. they're trickier to prepare, since you have to carefully peel the skin off them as well. you purse your lips.

things go somewhat smoothly at first, but then you start to slip up again. it's slippery, and the blade of the knife slices through your thumb.

"ah-" a small noise leaves your lips and you watch as a drop of your blood runs down your palm. sukuna matches your gaze and narrows his eyes at the same scene.

"such a helpless, troublesome woman."

he grabs your wrist and slowly brings your thumb to his mouth. your eyes widen, and you're speechless as you watch him run his tongue up the trail of your blood and then suck on the small incision on your thumb.

you're like a steaming kettle, with the way your blood rushes through your veins, temperature rising with how flustered you are. sukuna looks at you with your finger still in his mouth.

"su-sukuna-sama... you needn't do such a thing-"

a shiver runs down your spine when you feel his tongue swirl around your wound. he then releases it from his mouth, with a smirk, still holding onto your wrist.

you retract your hand suddenly, due to an indescribable feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. you then begin to fear that snatching your hand away like that might've offended him.

"my apologies, sukuna-sama! if you will excuse me-!"

you stand up and run, and he lets you scurry away, with the same sweet, arrogant grin on his face. down the hallway, he hears you trip over yourself before exiting. it makes him chuckle.

you're a fun way to pass time, when he's not slaughtering millions on the battlefield.

back in your own quarters, you lean yourself against a wall and pant, being out of breath. what had just happened? he... he licked the wound on your finger. and that did something to you. your insides feel all squirmy.

you look down at your thumb, only to realise that the cut has mysteriously disappeared.

after running away from sukuna abruptly like that, you had expected to uraume to chase you up and drag you to him, where you'd be executed for fleeing. but it never happens.

in fact, you haven't seen him again for a while. however this time around, his absence does nothing to keep you relaxed, as you're always on your toes, not knowing when he'd next make an appearance before you. you wonder what he will do to you next, when he does come back sooner or later.

before you can drown in those concerns of yours, uraume sends you outside to hang some laundry out in the sun. some white sheets, freshly washed. you struggle a bit, to carry the large bucket of sheets out to the yard.

the laundry line is a bit high, so you need to grab a small stool as well to successfully get the sheets over it. the wind is gentle, and the sunlight pours endlessly from the skies. truly a perfect day to dry the laundry outside.

the sheets are large, so you find it difficult to squeeze the moisture out by yourself, but you suppose they will eventually dry anyway, thanks to the nice weather. you smile as the cool breeze runs through you, making you feel pleasant.

from afar, sukuna observes this scenic view of you, surrounded by the pure white of the swaying sheets around you, smiling as the wind jostles your hair slightly and the sun accentuates your features rather beautifully.

he walks towards your light.

you're busy trying to hang another sheet on the second line this time. you wish the stool was a tad bit taller. this is rather challenging. even standing on top of it, you need to get on your tippy toes to reach properly. and it doesn't help that the water-weight makes the cloth heavier...

a large hand brushes aside the sheet that covers you from view, startling you. you nearly topple over, but a pair of strong arms catch you, keeping you standing upright.

"how ridiculous. don't you get tired of doing that every time?" he sighs. his second pair of arms are crossed, while the first pair hold you so warmly.

"i'm sorry..." you mumble, staring at him with wide eyes. it's like he appeared out of your thoughts. could this perhaps be a daydream of yours? he fixes your stance so that you can stand on the stool properly again. despite your height boost from this stool, sukuna is still a bit taller than you.

"it feels strange, having you meet me eye-to-eye like this..." sukuna comments, while staring down at you curiously.

and it does feel strange, being almost at his height. how close you feel to him now. maybe this offends him.

"i shall get down immediately," you tell him respectfully, trying to get off the stool. his arms come around again to keep you still.

"ack-!"

"tch. don't overreact. i didn't mean it that way," sukuna mutters, tutting at you.

you stand stiffly with your hands by your sides as he inspects you, anxious yet also excited to find out what his intentions are this time around. every touch he lands on you makes you skin jump, in an intoxicating way.

you focus your vision particularly on the odd looking side of his face. it looks like it has a strange texture. would it still be skin? you want to try and touch it. and... his extra eyes look cute. you gasp at yourself for having such disrespectful thoughts about him. all four of his eyes then focus on your face, as if to notice your gaze, and you feel as though your heart may leap out of your throat. there's a part of sukuna that makes you question whether he can read your mind or not.

"you're curious about this face of mine, are you?" he asks, while smiling.

your jaw hangs open in shock, and you don't know whether to tell him that he's correct or to apologise for your insolence.

"what a strange expression you're making," he chuckles, "so easy to read."

it's not that he can read minds, it's only because you're openly letting yourself known to him, whether you're aware of it or not. transparent, like a perfectly pristine and delicate glass cup. shall he leave his fingerprints on you? shall he leave some cracks in that fragile vessel of yours?

his hands come off your body, and you have to concentrate to keep your balance on the stool, no longer being able to rely on his hold to stand still.

"continue with your duties. i shall call for you later," sukuna states sternly, looking off at the sheets that still wave gently in the wind.

"you didn't squeeze out enough water. it's dripping," he points out the soaking wet ends of the sheets.

you practically jump off of the stool and get to work. in the meantime, the lord has disappeared again. you look into the distance to catch a glimpse of him if you can, but he's nowhere to be seen.

and he never got around to clarifying about what happened to his face. perhaps that's a clear sign to mean that he's not interested in talking about his past.

upon finishing the laundry in completion, you make your way to the kitchen, due to the time being close to serving the lord's evening meal.

the other servants and uraume included, are running around to prepare his dinner to perfection, as usual. for the most part, you're left with nothing to do at these times since none of them trust you with handling the food.

lord sukuna did say he was going to call for you later. you wonder if you'll be able to help bathe him again. or if this time, he'll make you do something different. you're plagued with such daydreams as the servants bustle about behind you.

by the time the busy period finalises, the moon hangs high up amongst the stars, and the darkness of night consumes all. and yet, he still hasn't requested for you at all. you suppose when he said he'd call for you later, he perhaps meant tomorrow or the day after. you never know with the lord. trying to navigate him is like trying to look through the murky depths of the ocean at night.

right when you were about to return to your quarters with everyone else, uraume suddenly approaches you.

"sukuna-sama wishes to see you. make your way to the courtyard now."

your stomach starts stirring once again.

the courtyard is beautiful, even at night. sukuna sits in the now moonlit area, drinking from a sake cup in a languid manner.

it takes courage to speak up behind him.

"did you wish to see me, my lord?"

sukuna turns slightly to the side to look at you, before facing the front again.

"...come. pour me another glass, will you?"

"certainly."

as you pour him more of the crystal clear wine, you have to stay vigilant in order to not accidentally splash any of the expensive liquid outside of the cup from your shaky hands.

tonight, the lord's gaze rests not on you, but on the moon above. you watch along with him. there is nothing but silence in the first few moments you have with him together.

"the moon is beautiful tonight," he finally says, while taking another sip of his sake.

is it normal for one to be envious of the moon? even so, thanks to the moon, you are able to see him bathed in its light, making him look almost ethereal.

"yes it is, sukuna-sama," you agree with him.

there's another momentary silence between the two of you, before you bring up a sudden question.

"...do you enjoy watching the moon often?"

"not often, but at times. it would get boring if i did it everyday."

like almost everything else in life.

"i see. that is most understandable."

the chirping of crickets is audible within the garden, and you pour him another glass of his sake after he finishes his previous cup.

you look up at the black canvas of a sky, littered with specks of white all across it. it's easy to get lost in the sight. and much more comfortable than looking at something like the sun, which could burn the delicate areas of your eyes. you begin to get immersed in the view, and your previous train of thoughts ebb away.

you don't notice the way sukuna has stopped gazing at the sky. he's watching you, instead.

"you must know by now... that i favour you more than the other servants," sukuna brings up carefully.

you stop staring up, and turn around slowly to blink at the man.

"...is- is that true, my lord?" you ask, wondering if he really means that. you don't want to get ahead of yourself.

his brows furrow. how dim-witted can you be?

"perhaps actions will speak better than words."

that phrase alone makes your heart feel like it could leap out of your throat.

"sit closer to me."

you swallow dryly, and shuffle closer to the larger man. he sets his cup down beside him, and brings you even closer to him. his hand holding your waist. sitting with him, hip to hip.

sukuna begins to lean his face down closer to yours. your hands grab your own kimono in tight fists, questioning the reality of this scene, feeling skittish yet also giddy, all at the same time.

"don't run away, this time. i won't allow it."

the way his breath ghosts over the skin of your face, how close his voice is to your ears, sends goosebumps all the way down to your legs. is he going to kiss you? can you handle that?

his lips reach yours, and the softness of them is unreal. this must be a dream. he tastes of the rice wine was sipping on before, and he's doused in the same moonlight as you are, and he's now kissing you. a mere servant.

your ears pound with your own heartbeat, and your hands grip onto your kimono so tightly that it's bound to leave wrinkles behind. they shake slightly. sukuna's large hand comes over one of them, and grabs your wrist delicately.

"relax", he's telling you.

and so, you share your first kiss with him, under the moonlight.

quite a bit of time has passed since that day.

you could say that nothing much has changed - you still have your duties as a servant, and the lord still leaves his home vacant for periods of time.

however, on days when he has returned...

you gently sway your legs that hang off the edge of the engawa, on the very same courtyard as that fateful night. sukuna lays his head on your lap, eyes closed and completely at rest, both sets of his arms relaxed as the breaths he takes are slow.

your hand is unable to stray far from the soft bed of his hair, fingers combing through the peach-coloured strands, nails raking against his scalp with the right amount of strength, the way he loves. he gives the occasional purr when you go over his favourite spots.

it's odd, when merely a few weeks ago, you had trouble initiating these harmless touches without explicitly asking for permission beforehand.

"sukuna-sama, may i touch your hair?"

"would it be alright if i could hold your hand, sukuna-sama?"

"may i press a kiss against your cheek, my lord?"

you giggle to yourself as you remember his response to your endless series of questions and requests.

"tch... quit asking me about every little thing. just do it. i'll let you know if i don't like it."

and from then on, you've been bravely placing your hands on him whenever you wanted. and he hasn't been displeased by you, as of yet.

you freely caress the side of his face that you would describe as... unique. you're always curious about the nature of it, even now. but you don't invasively ask questions. you wonder if you'll ever feel brave enough to, one day.

his larger eyes open up narrowly in an abrupt manner, and they squint at you. it makes you nervous, in the way that heart fluttering way. you never get used to the feeling of being under his intense gaze.

red, with ringed irises. you've started to enjoy this colour more ever since you started to meet his eyes more often. you stare back at him but, oh- he's closed them up again.

your hand continues to softly caress him.

sukuna remains mellow, not really falling asleep, but also not in a state of full alertness. your lap serves as a great pillow.

this continues, until suddenly your touches become slower and more distracted. and he can tell your attention has been divided to something else.

the dismayed lord cracks open one eye to check what might have served as a distraction to you.

a butterfly...?

your eyes follow the pretty blue creature, landing on the flora of the garden, in it's carefree nature. a small smile blooms on your face and your hand's movements dwindle, which should displease him. he could cleave the thing into little bits, and let its remains scatter the lush garden.

but, he doesn't. sukuna lets you indulge in these small moments of joy, simply because he's gotten rather softhearted. he doesn't enjoy seeing you get upset at him. though he has control over you as your lord, his hand can't extend all the way to your heart and mind.

(and may the world burst into flames if you ever end up disliking him.)

he recalls... you were also staring at a butterfly the day he first met you, weren't you? so distracted that you didn't notice his presence. he doesn't understand your affection for such a fragile creature.

but...he supposes that he's the same.

what came over him, that he wound up caring for a silly woman like you?

as if to reaffirm your concept of being 'silly', you suddenly give a small sneeze, facing away from the front. his head gets jostled in your lap, which makes him frown and sigh.

"my apologies, sukuna-sama... perhaps it was due to the pollen from the garden..." you give your excuse sheepishly.

well, no matter. he'll keep you with him for as long as he desires. perhaps he can use your butterfly-infatuation to his advantage.

not long after, once the sun dips over the horizon and the area becomes a little chilly, sukuna decides he wants to take a bath before the day comes to an end. and you'll be coming along, of course.

...by now, you've been with him in the bath area at least a dozen times before.

nevertheless, you never seem to get used to seeing him in his naked glory.

sukuna is sitting in his tub, and you're running a warm, wet cloth over his shoulders, scrubbing lazily. he was already quite clean enough today, in your opinion.

a feeling of deja vu hits when your gaze falls onto the tattoo on the back of his neck. you remember having such a thought before. though it's not the strongest resemblance, you see it regardless.

without much resistance, you give in to the desire, and bring your lips to the area to give him a small kiss. it takes him by slight surprise.

"the tattoo on your neck resembles the lines on a butterfly's wings, sukuna-sama. it looks elegant, and wonderful," you tell him.

...he is not displeased with that comparison, strangely enough.

"is that so? no wonder i've felt your stare on it multiple times before," sukuna responds.

you never realised that he'd caught onto that. were you always staring that prominently? you continue wiping him down with the warm cloth, feeling a bit shy all of a sudden.

sukuna thinks for a moment.

"how about you join me in here, tonight?" he asks, out of the blue.

"p-pardon?!"

"quit acting so timid. go on, get yourself cleaned. i'm waiting."

you feel your face heat up at the thought of being... naked with him. anxiousness starts running through your body. you wonder if he really means it, or if he's trying to fluster you again. your lack of action causes him to raise an eyebrow.

"what, you don't want to?"

"no, no! i do, my lord! i'm just... a bit taken aback."

you spring into action. heart pounding as you shed your clothes. he doesn't turn his head or peek at you from where he sits, but your eyes dart to him to check anyways. you clean and rinse yourself adequately, with shaky hands.

"shall i lend a hand in scrubbing your back?" sukuna suddenly calls out. there is sarcasm in his tone.

"that wouldn't be necessary, my lord... i can do it myself..." you respond bashfully.

you only pray that you don't slip over on the way to the tub.

when you do eventually finish up, you walk carefully towards him. walking past where he sits, you reach the other side of the tub. you avoid his eyes as you enter at a slow pace, arms making an effort to cover your breasts. you're finally seated in the same tub as him. the water is steaming, and it's quite deep. still, you hang on to the edge and keep yourself a little distanced from sukuna.

"aw come on. it was mere moments ago that you kissed the back of my neck. so shy all of a sudden?"

"that- that was a different situation, sukuna-sama..."

"the only difference now is that we're both nude," he shrugs.

"nevermind that...the water looks a little deep for you," he says, almost mockingly so- "come. i'll let you on my lap."

you cannot tell whether he is only teasing, or if he actually wants you on his lap.

"quickly- don't run my patience thin."

you make your way towards him without further hesitation.

sitting on his lap, you find that he's oddly comfortable. an arm of his loops around your waist, holding you tight against him, as if to prevent you from running away.

the lord takes your hand and caresses it between his thick fingers. your back leans against his bare chest and abs as you relax yourself more. you wonder if the mouth on his stomach doesn't feel uncomfortable when you sit against it like this.

sukuna's extra arms begin to get more and more handsy with you. you feel his large palms on your breasts, squeezing the flesh gently. not that you find it unpleasant, but it makes you feel all squirmy and restless and hot. when he touches your chest like that, you can't help but turn your head slightly to give him a needy look. it makes him lean down and kiss you warmly.

his tongue explores your mouth in a thorough manner, encouraging a growing heat inside of you. you start gripping his hand harder, though you doubt he feels a thing from it.

when lord sukuna kisses you, you can't tell whether time is passing too quickly, or too slowly. you lose the ability to think of anything else, other than his soft lips and his rough tongue. and you believe that he's aware of this fact himself. why else could he be smiling against your lips like he is right now?

you don't know how long you'd kissed him for in that bathtub. but by the time you stepped out of it, your hands were wrinkly from the prolonged moisture.

and you came out with... feelings of unsatisfaction. rather than getting a little further than kissing, sukuna had stopped abruptly and told you with a smirk that he was ready to get back to his chambers now.

upon getting dressed again, you linger awkwardly around the man, wanting more but not knowing how to inform him of it. the lord looks at you keenly.

"well? aren't you going back to your chambers?" he asks with a sly undertone.

"...i would like to escort you to your room... my lord," you tell him, averting his gaze.

"oh? i don't recall needing an escort, when my room's right around the corner. but if you insist." you can't see what kind of expression he's wearing right now, but you imagine he's smiling at you teasingly. like he always does.

you trail behind him as he walks over to his chambers.

for sure, it doesn't take long until he reaches his room. sukuna slides open the door and makes his way to his large futon in the middle of the tatami floor. he makes himself comfortable, and lays on his side while you watch him from outside his room.

"you're still here. well? are you planning on tucking me into bed next?" he asks with his usual mockery, chuckling through his nose.

you frown cutely, feeling a deep sense of unfairness in the pit of your stomach.

"i was just about to leave, sukuna-sama," you respond a bit haughtily, getting bold with him.

"is that so. then run along," he ushers you, following that with a big yawn. your frown gets deeper.

you begin to slowly close his door, but then stop when it's only cracked open slightly. you brace yourself for the request you are about to make.

"sukuna-sama... could i sleep beside you, tonight?" you ask meekly.

his lips curl up similarly to that of a cheshire cat. finally, you're getting honest with him. he loves the feeling of having you run about in the palm of his hand.

"i thought you said you were going to leave?"

"please...?" you muster your best puppy eyes.

the lord smirks again, and eventually beckons you in with his index finger. you perk up, and step into his room with excitement, running into his futon like a dog, tail wagging from the happiness of being with its owner.

"you're like a silly mutt. foolish, but cute. i like the way you beg for my affection."

you're not sure on how to feel about being compared to a mutt, but you suppose it's not the worst comparison in the world.

"woof," you say quietly, shuffling closer to him. he laughs deeply at you. from your tight embrace with him, you feel the vibrations from his chuckling against his chest.

...there's always something hot or warm about sukuna.

his whole presence feels like a roaring fire at times, burning with his strength and charisma - the flames and temperature threatening to scald anyone around him.

but,

right here, when you're in his arms, the fire becomes tame. still an unrelenting and strong flame, but something more controlled and comfortable to be around.

you close your eyes with a smile, satisfied with this outcome.

"oi. i don't recall saying you could sleep yet."

that makes your eyes bolt open with confusion. sukuna furrows his brows and grabs your face, squishing your cheeks together.

"you're in my futon, and all you can think about is sleeping? i don't know how to feel about that."

"oh... was there something else you wanted from me, sukuna-sama?"

he looks further displeased by your question and suddenly grabs both your wrists, pinning them above your head. you gasp, surprised by his sudden shift in mood.

"we should continue with where we left off, shouldn't we?"

another hand comes up to hold your neck gently for a moment, before he slides it down slowly to your chest, the warmth from his palm trailing with it, reaching your clothed breasts, making your head spin with arousal.

"were you not anticipating something like this? when you asked to stay the night beside me."

he leans down and presses his lips against the space just below your ear, making you shudder. he likes this reaction, and continues kissing down your neck.

"s-sukuna-sama..."

"what a lewd tone you're using with my name. i hope you're prepared for the consequences of that."

he overtakes your senses with another searing hot kiss. hands clawing away at your kimono. teasing touches to your chest. his flames are threatening to envelop you, producing yet another unique kind of heat.

but you've never welcomed anything else more in your life. you'd gladly burn to ashes if it means being so close to your lord, your light.

...it's safe to say that you woke up the next morning with more bruises and bite marks than the number of fingers you have on your hands. and the lord lays beside your exhausted frame, aimlessly curling a lock of your hair around his finger with a satisfied grin on his face.

during one quiet afternoon, uraume beckons you towards them.

"i've been ordered to dress you lavishly. come with me."

you follow them without question, wondering what the sudden occasion could be. lord sukuna has left for the battlefield once again, so he's been missing for a couple of days. is he due to come back this evening?

such hopes fill your mind.

you stand awkwardly as uraume fits a rather elegant and expensive, but beautiful looking kimono onto you. it feels odd. you could even say you feel a bit guilty; in what world would someone dress a servant so extravagantly? nonetheless, you accept the treatment with silence. you get lost in your own daydreams, while uraume prepares you for whatever's been arranged for you.

by the end of it all, they angle you to face the mirror properly, their hands placed on your shoulders.

"it's complete. feel free to take a look at yourself."

you turn your face to one side, and then the other, all while keeping your eyes on the mirror. you look... stunning.

"th-thank you..." you tell uraume, quite speechless.

"please withhold that gratitude for lord sukuna. he was the one that arranged for this, after all."

you're then told to wait at the courtyard, for the lord's return. tingles of excitement run through your veins, and reaches the tips of your fingers, at having your hopes confirmed. he's due to return tonight.

quite a bit of time passes. yet, no signs of him coming back yet. you swing your legs back and forth languidly over the engawa, looking up at the sky aimlessly. though you shouldn't be doing such a thing when you've been fitted with a lovely kimono, there's no one around to scold or stop you from your usual habits.

you sigh, wondering when he'll be back. your eyes wander around the garden, this time. under the moonlight, there's a singular butterfly that flutters about, appearing in good timing as if to help cure your boredom.

you step out onto the grass and approach it, lending out a finger towards it to see if it decides to land on your hand. it takes a bit of effort, but after some gentle movements and patience, it eventually stops to linger on your index finger for a while. it allows you to admire every ridge, and all the patterns on the wings in better detail. you wonder whether you'll ever get another opportunity to observe a butterfly so closely again in the future.

a few footsteps resound behind you, getting you startled. when your body moves slightly from the scare, the butterfly flees and seemingly disappears out of sight.

yet, right now, you have no room to feel disappointed by a mere butterfly.

sukuna is smirking at you from a distance, looking very pleased with the way you're dressed for him. he steps down and walks into the garden as well, approaching you languidly, one arm concealed under the sleeve of his kimono.

"welcome back, sukuna-sama. i've been awaiting for your return," you greet him, smiling.

"were you now? missed me that bad?" he asks, reaching out to caress your cheek.

"yes, my lord. i missed you so much. not a day goes by where i don't think about you."

"why, how sweet...perhaps you deserve a reward for your honesty."

"a reward...?" your eyes grow wide and you start getting embarrassingly overjoyed at the idea of a reward given to you by the lord himself.

"so eager. you seem like you're truly getting committed to playing the role of a mutt."

you try to change your expression in haste, but you end up looking more bashful than anything. sukuna laughs at another one of your strange expressions.

"i'm only teasing."

he then pulls his arm out of his sleeve, revealing something you never thought you'd see in his hands.

a hairpin... specifically, one with a large blue butterfly on it. embedded with pretty jewels, and shaped to perfection. it would've been something difficult to obtain. for someone who's always busy creating chaos, when would he have had the time to find such a thing amongst everything else?

"i thought you would enjoy having something like this. do you like it?"

"oh... like would be an understatement, sukuna-sama. i adore it. is it really for me?"

"who else could have it? don't ask foolish questions."

it could only ever belong to you.

he places the pin into your hair, graceful and elegant with his hands. it makes you feel overjoyed. heat rises to your cheeks and they hurt from how much you're smiling.

"not bad at all. it was worth obtaining."

your hand rises to where the hairpin is, and you touch it gently, letting your fingertips feel the texture of the pin and it's butterfly pattern.

"am i... am i pretty, my lord?" you ask sheepishly, looking up at him with your doe eyes.

he's smiling at you rather gently, his eyes mirroring your reflection within them as he gazes down at you in silence. his lack of a verbal response almost makes you nervous, however.

sukuna reaches out to hold your hand, and pulls you closer towards him. he's glad that nobody else is around, for he's certain they would've also felt so drawn to you, like he is right now.

he palms your cheek again, before letting his thumb brush over your lips delicately.

you never sever your gaze from him, continuing to await his reply.

"... you're beautiful,"

he finally relents.

sukuna then presses his lips against yours, underneath the moon's blessing. once again, and forevermore.

fin.

Masterlist

[sugoroo]

GOOD COP, BAD COP!

ʚɞ summary: you get arrested and are determined not to reveal a single piece of information about your associates. that is, until the two officers interrogating you start employing... unique tactics to get you to talk.

warnings: fem!reader x choso kamo & toji fushiguro, police officer!au, fingering, oral (f receiving), spitting, praise kink, voyeurism, leg humping, power play, 18+ minors dni.

wc: 7.0k

it was a simple job — or atleast, it was supposed to be.

it began with the same simple plan as any other low stakes bank heist.

get in, get the money, get out.

but unfortunately, this time, someone in your little group decided to snitch - alerting the authorities of the exact location and time of the job before it even began.

so while you were in the middle of stuffing wad after wad of cash into a duffle bag, the last thing you were expecting was for a bunch of police officers to come barging into the bank, guns raised and badges being waved.

well shit.

silently cursing whichever person from your group that informed them, you made a break for it, darting towards the back entrance with the duffle bag clumsily slung across your shoulder.

but you didn't make it far.

the rest of your group managed to escape the bank in time, piling into the awaiting getaway car, but of course, you had to get stopped by a large hand wrapping around your wrist. you desperately tried to tug it free, but their grip was firm; almost frighteningly so.

"shit. guys, wait for—!" you attempted to yell, but the sound of the engine revving as the car dashed away interrupted the sentence, almost as if it was mocking you.

"looks like your little friends left you behind, doll." a low voice you assume belongs to the hand around your wrist rumbles from behind you, the amusement in his tone clearly at your expense.

"fuck you." you spit out, still stubbornly trying to tug your arm from his iron grip even though it's abundantly clear that it's a fruitless endeavour.

"ah ah," the voice chides, yanking a pair of handcuffs from his pocket with his other hand and effortlessly clicking them in place over your wrist, then doing the same with the other, despite your relentless struggling. "an attitude like that won't get you anywhere now."

with your movements now severely restricted by the harsh metal of the cuffs, you have no choice but to comply as the police officer manhandles you, roughly spinning you around until you come face to face with him.

unsurprisingly, the man's cocky expression fits his voice. his lips, which have a noticeable scar running down the side, are pulled up into a smug smirk as he looks down at you, and some messy strands of black hair are falling into his eyes.

"got nothin' else to say?" he snorts, his smirk only widening when he notices the way your features contort into a scowl — clearly fighting the urge to snap back at him again. "yeah, that's what i thought."

it takes every ounce of willpower you have not to list off every single curse word you know as the officer practically drags you through the bank, carelessly shoving you into the back of his squad car.

so much for a simple job.

so that's how you manage to find yourself slumped against an uncomfortable plastic chair in an interrogation room at the local police station, handcuffed to a desk.

it feels like it's been hours since the arrest, but there's no way of telling how much time has actually passed in this frustratingly empty room since there isn't even a clock to decorate the plain white walls.

when you'd first been left in here, you'd been angry.

angry at whichever member of your group decided to snitch on the operation, angry at your accomplices for leaving you there in the bank (although you probably would've done the same if the roles were reversed) and angry at the irritatingly smug officer who arrested you.

but eventually, that anger started to slowly but surely fade away —instead replaced by an overwhelmingly painful sense of boredom as you sat here with nothing to do.

you resorted to counting the tiles on the ceiling above you in a last ditch attempt at keeping yourself atleast somewhat amused. what number were you up to again? oh, right. eighty two... eighty three—

"hey, hey! s-sorry i'm so late." a voice hurriedly announces as the person it belongs to clumsily stumbles into the room, rambling about something to do with a coffee machine malfunction as he slides into the seat opposite yours.

slowly casting your eyes down from the ceiling to take in the police officer now sat in front of you, you're relieved to realize that it's not the same one from earlier. no - the difference between them is almost comical.

this one has dark tresses of hair pulled up into two messy pigtails, a small tattoo inked across the bridge of his nose, and his pale hands are shaking on the table where they rest. he seems nervous — almost as if he's the one about to be interrogated and not you.

"u-uh, yeah, as i was saying..." the man continues after a few moments of squirming under your gaze, pushing a mug across the table. "i thought i'd get you some coffee to help you feel more at ease. but the settings on that pesky machine are so complicated! i-i'm new here, by the way."

"i gathered." you murmur with a small, bemused smile pulling at your lips in spite of the situation you find yourself in. you then glance down at the mug, raising an eyebrow — it's not like you can pick it up and bring it to your mouth with your hands cuffed to the desk.

"o-oh, shit. i didn't think of that," the officer curses under his breath, grasping the mug in two trembling hands and thrusting it towards you. the movement jostles the liquid slightly, causing some of it to drip onto the table. "here."

you lean forward to reach the outstretched mug, taking a small sip of the warm liquid and resisting the urge to wince at the overwhelmingly bitter taste; this guy really wasn't joking about not being able to use he coffee machine properly.

"thanks." you push out with a somewhat strained smile, not wanting to appear ungrateful for the kind gesture. he nods quickly, seemingly pleased by your manners, placing the mug back down on the desk and pulling some files from his bag.

"so..." he begins, fanning the various folders across the desk and squinting down at them, as if trying to make sense of what's in front of him. "oh, wait! i forgot to introduce myself. i'm officer kamo — but you can call me choso, i-if you want, that is."

"right. well, it's nice to meet you, choso." you respond carefully, silently observing the way the apples of his cheeks flush a subtle shade of pink at the sound of his name leaving your lips. interesting.

"y-you too, um..." choso stammers awkwardly, glancing down and reading your name aloud from one of the files. "so, it says here you were the only suspect apprehended from the group who attempted to rob a local bank earlier today. is that correct?"

"it is." you mutter, pushing at the bed of one of your nails as some of the anger from earlier surfaces again. why did it have to be you who got caught? you should be at home rolling around in a heap of cash right about now, not sitting in a sterile interrogation room answering questions.

"i see," he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck in a clear sign of discomfort as he takes note of the sudden defensiveness in your demeanour. "well, um, i was just wondering— i mean, i have to ask you... is there any information you can give us regarding your accomplices?"

your head snaps up at this, a flicker of uncertainty alighting in your chest. obviously, you were anticipating this question - but hearing it said out loud is an entirely different feeling.

the small part of you that still burns with anger wants to spill everything, get your fellow group members roped into the same predicament as you as payback for them abandoning you at the bank. but the other, more rational part of you, knows that nothing good can come of snitching on them. it would only serve to get you in even more trouble; just not with the law.

"no. i'm sorry, but i don't have anything to tell you." you lie through your teeth, toying with the edge of the metal handcuffs where they're digging into your wrist.

"a-are you sure about that?" choso prompts, seeming slightly unconvinced. he's trying to catch your eye, tilting his head towards you. "names, addresses, vehicle numberplates... anything?"

you subtly clench your jaw, shaking your head from side to side. as strong as the urge is to supply him with the information he wants, deep down you know it would only make things worse for you in the long run.

choso huffs out a small breath of air, fidgeting in his seat as he tries to remember his interrogation training. he may be new to this — but he's not oblivious. he can tell you're not being truthful, and although he understands the reasons behind that, he needs this intel if he wants to hand over a satisfactory report to his boss at the end of the day.

"if you're worried about the consequences of confessing, we can always put you into witness protection." he tries, his voice soft and earnest. it's clear he's not putting on an act, he does mean what he says. but that does nothing to change your mind.

"i don't have anything to tell you." you repeat without hesitation, your blank expression betraying nothing of your inner turmoil. you have to keep silently reminding yourself — it's not worth the risk to snitch.

"alright." choso sighs in response, wringing his hands atop the table as he seemingly tries to think of another approach to get you to talk. he has a feeling none of the other methods from his basic training are going to work with you. "um... how about i offer you something in return for your cooperation?"

"like what?" you mutter cautiously, fully intending on rejecting whatever it is he has to suggest.

"well, let's see," he hums thoughtfully, glancing back down at the files before returning his gaze to you. "how about a shorter sentence? i think we can do that."

this makes you pause — if only for a moment. a shorter sentence does sound tempting, but you can't let the idea weaken your resolve. after all, once you got out, there would be hell to pay for snitching. "less jail time isn't going to change the fact that i don't have anything to tell you."

choso's shoulders visibly sag with disappointment at your continued refusal to give up any information; he really thought that suggestion would have swayed you. "o-okay. so how about something else then?"

now that catches your curiosity.

because what else could he possibly offer you aside from a reduced sentence? that was usually the absolute best bargaining chip police officers were allowed to utilize in interrogations — you'd seen enough tv shows to know that.

he perks up when he notices the subtle signs of increased interest in your demeanour, leaning forward in his seat with clear eagerness. "okay! you're curious, that's good. s-so... what i'm suggesting is... um..."

you raise an eyebrow at his sudden hesitation, noting the way his eyes dart away from yours and his already pinkened cheeks flush further. "what you're suggesting is...?" you prompt.

"that... um... i—" choso tries again, anxiously digging his nails into his palm. he can't believe he's actually going to say something like this out loud, but he needs to get this information if he wants to make good progress at his new job. "i s-service you."

what?

you have to hold back a choked sound somewhere between a snort and a gasp at his words, your eyebrows raising so high they almost disappear above your hairline.

hearing this timid-looking, blushing rookie police officer say something so... suggestive was definitely not the way you expected this interrogation to go.

it was like the start of some cheap porno.

"are you serious?" is all you can manage to mutter, leaning forward in your seat slightly to get a better look at his expression, searching for any signs that he's just playing with you; maybe trying to get you to lower your guard so that you're more likely to spill intel.

"...yes," comes choso's meek reply, his voice so soft and quiet it's hardly audible, despite the lack of any other sounds in the room. he looks like he's about to die of embarrassment, his flush spreading down his neck and disappearing below the neckline of his uniform.

"i don't see how that's supposed to get me to supply you with information that i don't have." you huff bluntly, keeping up the act as best you can; but you can't deny there's a small part of you that's curious as to what he would actually do if you were to agree to the proposition.

he finally meets your gaze again at this, the look in his eyes telling you point-blank that he knows you're holding back the truth from him. and he knows that you know he knows.

it's a stalemate.

"h-how about..." he mumbles after a long stretch of silence, rolling a dark strand of his hair between his fingers nervously. "how about i just try something? you don't have to agree to anything yet. i-i just want to try."

again, choso manages to capture your curiosity.

he's now basically offering to please you for nothing in return — although he's obviously hoping he'll be able to get some information out of you eventually, maybe during or after this 'service'.

you wish you could say you weren't tempted by his offer. but as a criminal, most of the people you associate with are disgusting lowlifes who you wouldn't even dream of letting in your bed.

needless to say, it's been a long while since another person brought you pleasure.

"so if, hypothetically, i was to say yes, i wouldn't have to actually agree to anything yet?" you repeat cautiously, your demeanour still guarded. you can't afford to let him get the upper hand here, no matter what happens.

"y-yes," choso nods in response, seeming slightly pleased by the fact you haven't outright rejected his suggestion or threatened to report him to one of his superiors. "hypothetically." he adds, for good measure.

another few moments of silence pass where you mentally weigh up your options. you come to the conclusion that it couldn't hurt to go along with his little proposition for now, as long as you make sure you keep your guard up throughout. right?

"okay." you hum, leaning back in your chair and observing the police officer before you. he seems to be trying to hold back his excitement at having won you over, but then you can see the exact moment it dawns on him what it is he's actually signed himself up for.

choso swallows thickly, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he stands up from his chair, legs visibly trembling in his dark uniform trousers as he awkwardly shuffles closer to your side of the desk.

you open your mouth to speak, but whatever you were about to say instantly leaves your mind when he sinks to his knees before you, effortlessly moving your chair to the side so that he's positioned directly between your legs.

"i know you said that you're new and all," you mutter with slight amusement as you watch him look up at you with those wide eyes from where he's knelt on the floor. "but i'm pretty sure most police officers don't do this for suspects."

"i-i know that," he huffs sheepishly in response, the tips of his ears reddening to match the shade of his face. "but i couldn't think of any other ways to get you to talk."

"who said i'm going to talk?" you murmur, enjoying the way his bottom lip juts out into a little involuntary pout in response to your words. "i didn't actually agree to say anything, remember?"

choso doesn't reply this time, seeming to have come to terms with the fact that he can't convince you with his words alone; this situation clearly requires him to use his actions.

the problem is, he's never actually performed said actions on a woman before. sure, he's watched his fair share of porn — but he knows that doesn't compare to the real thing.

he's just going to have to wing it.

he brings a shaky hand up to one of your legs, slowly trailing his fingers up the skin there. it's soft to the touch; much softer than he expected. he had this stereotypical notion imbedded in his head that a criminal's skin would be rough and hardened - but not yours, clearly.

choso can feel your eyes on him the entire time his digits travel up the length of your leg, can tell that you're curious about exactly what he's going to do as his so-called service to you.

he couldn't tell you even if you asked — he's just going to make it up as he goes along and hope he does atleast something right that might get you to spill some information while you're lost in the throes of pleasure.

eventually, his fingers reach the hem of your skirt, and he pauses for a moment to look up at you, as if asking for silent permission. you nod with a small jerk of your head, so he steels himself before continuing.

he lifts up the material of your skirt slightly, taking a quick peek underneath to see what he was to work with. and oh, he almost forgets that he's supposed to be the one holding the power in this situation when he catches a glimpse of your covered cunt.

your panties aren't anything special — since you obviously weren't expecting to end up in this position today. but choso couldn't care less, his closed mouth filling up with salvia as he stares at the small wet patch forming on the front of the fabric.

you can't help but huff out a small laugh, the sound halfway between bemusement and slight embarrassment as the police officer before you just kneels and stares between your legs, the silence in the room so thick you could hear a pin drop.

"trying to make me uncomfortable by staring isn't going to make me tell you anything, you know." you mutter with eyes narrowed in suspicion, causing his head to dart up in surprise.

"w-what? oh... um, sorry. i didn't mean to stare." he rasps hurriedly, forcibly shaking himself out of his daze. he knows you're right; he's not going to get anywhere by just kneeling here completely motionless like a statue.

he needs to get to work.

choso starts by brushing a gentle, barely-there kiss against your inner thigh, his lips soft as they press against your skin. it feels a little too intimate for what is supposed to be an interrogation tactic, but right now, he can't bring himself to care.

you feel a small shiver ripple down your spine as he leaves a trail of sweet kisses up to the apex of your thighs, his head disappearing underneath your skirt with just the tips of his dark pigtails peeking out.

this entire situation is so overwhelmingly surreal — just hours ago you were being arrested, and now you're in an interrogation room with a pretty rookie police officer inches away from making contact your clothed core.

what a strange turn of events.

your sink your teeth into your lower lip once you feel his breath fan across your panties, attempting to hide any sounds that threaten to escape. you have to make sure not to let on how much you're enjoying this - have to make sure you don't lower your guard and accidentally let any information spill.

choso presses a chaste kiss to your covered mound, and it's all you can do to hold back a little gasp at the action. he's just so sickeningly gentle with you; like he's handling his lover and not a criminal under arrest for robbing a bank.

a soft rumble, almost a groan, comes from under your skirt, the sound vibrating against your skin as it leaves his lips. you can't see his face, but if you could, you'd see how drunk he is on you already — just from the miniscule taste of you he's gotten through your panties.

"h-hah," he breathes quietly, mostly to himself, flicking his tongue out gently against the now-dampened fabric to get a better taste. "i never thought a criminal would taste so sweet."

fuck.

those simple words shoot straight down to your cunt, causing a small gush of arousal to trickle out into your underwear. you're sure he can feel it against his tongue, and you wince. it's going to be more difficult than anticipated to keep your composure if he's gonna keep saying things like that.

choso gasps slightly, the sound quickly morphing into a satisfied hum when your syrupy slick seeps through the fabric and onto his awaiting tongue. despite never having done this before, he's sure no one else could possibly hold a candle to how delicious you taste.

he's in trouble.

at this rate, he's going to be the one falling apart first instead of you; he can already feel himself growing hard in his slacks, pushing against the restricting material.

gently pulling your soiled panties to the side, he swipes his tongue through your glistening folds, gathering more of your juices on his tastebuds. he's not sure what else to do to please you, all he knows is that he wants more and more of that sweet sap.

choso is so lost in 'interrogating' you with his mouth, and you're so lost in trying not to forget about the consequences of snitching and just tell him everything you know, that neither of you notice when the door creaks open.

"well, well, well... i assign you to your first solo interrogation—" an irritatingly familiar voice grunts out, the sound of the door clicking shut sealing him in the room with you. "and where do i find you? with your tongue on the suspect's cunt, kamo."

it's him. the way-too-smug officer with the scar on his lip who arrested you back at the bank, who fastened the handcuffs so tight the harsh metal dug into the skin of your wrists. who simply laughed mockingly at your struggles to break free. him.

choso breaks free from between your legs so fast he probably gets whiplash, his eyes wide and cheeks flushed a deep shade of red as he peeks out from under your skirt. he resembles a deer frozen in headlights.

"oho, don't go stoppin' on my account." the other officer chuckles deeply, sauntering closer and grasping one of choso's messy pigtails. he uses the grip to push him back under your skirt, forcibly pressing his face against your needy flesh.

choso whines, a pathetic, drawn out sound, feeling conflicted. he's unsure if he's supposed to stop or continue; unsure if his boss's words are meant as sarcasm or not. is this some sort of test from his superior? he doesn't want to risk losing his job, not when he worked so hard to get here.

"c-captain fushiguro... i'm sorry. but i-i don't understand." he mumbles shakily, his meek voice vibrating directly against your core.

"tch. thought i told you before to j's call me toji, didn't i?" the smug officer — toji, apparently— huffs in irritation, practically ignoring your presence entirely as he shoves choso's face right into your pulsing heat. "now get back to fuckin' work. that's an order, rookie."

unable to resist the authoritative tone of his voice, choso's tongue peeks back out from between his lips and swipes through your sopping folds again, his mind quickly going pleasantly blank a second time from your sweet saccharine taste.

toji's eyes then meet yours for the first time since he stepped into the interrogation room, seemingly seeing effortlessly past your careful blank expression. he smirks, in the same annoyingly smug way as he had when he arrested you.

he knows that while his subordinate may be trying his best, the small amount of stimulation from the inexperienced man isn't anywhere near enough to properly please you.

and if they want their stubborn little suspect to break, you need to be more than properly pleased.

"y'er not gonna get her to reveal any damn information like that, kid." toji grunts in a mix of amusement and annoyance, tugging choso back by his pigtail and causing him to whimper pathetically. "d'ya even know where her clit is?"

"c-clit?" he repeats timidly, glancing between your pretty pussy and his boss's unimpressed face, as if unsure which to give his full attention.

"yes, clit. jesus, what are they teachin' you youngsters these days?" toji mutters disapprovingly, snaking his free hand underneath your skirt to point directly at your puffy little bud without much trouble. "should be right... there."

you can't stop the sharp gasp that escapes your lips when he pushes down on your sensitive clit like a button, snapping your head to the side to send a sharp glare in his direction.

"aww, look at that," he coos mockingly, removing his finger as quickly as he had placed it there and returning your scowl with his trademark smug grin. "little lady still has 'er attitude, i see."

"fuck you." you hiss out, not appreciating where this is going. the sweet rookie officer servicing you was one thing, but the infuriating one who arrested you joining in? now that's an entirely different situation.

"ah ah, doll," toji hums, waving the finger he just had pressed against your clit in front of your thoroughly irritated face. "'m not here for that, unfortunately. just thought i'd give kamo here a little... helping hand, 's all."

"well i don't want your helping hand." you scoff in response, but despite your desperate struggling against the handcuffs that still have you chained to the desk, you can't do anything to slap his hand away when it returns between your legs.

he ignores your protesting movements completely, angling his face down to glance at choso, who is watching his superior's pudgy finger rubbing teasingly slow circles on your clit with rapt attention, seemingly tuning out the bickering between the two of you.

"y'see now, rookie?

choso nods a little too enthusiastically, and the moment toji removes his finger, his tongue is back on your cunt. but this time, it's circling messily around your little bud, his movements sloppy and uncoordinated.

a small moan escapes your lips unwarranted, and you instantly snap your eyes shut in embarrassment — it's becoming increasingly harder to keep your priorities straight with these two extremely attractive police officers attempting to wreck your resolve.

"yeahhh, she likes that," toji leers mockingly, rubbing his fat thumb against the edge of your thigh just to work you up even further. "dontcha, pretty?"

"shut... up." you push out through clenched teeth, fighting not to lose yourself in the sensations they're providing you with. you have to stay strong. you won't become a snitch.

he only snorts in response, pulling his thumb back and giving you a brief moment of relief before swiftly slapping a hand against your folds, the obscene wet squelching sound echoing throughout the room. "don't tell me what to do, girl."

"t-toji," choso whines, pulling his tongue from your clit and glancing down at your twitching flesh from the slap, which he starts peppering with gentle kisses in an attempt to soften the blow. "that was mean."

"oh, that was mean, was it?" he scoffs, rolling his eyes and giving the other man's pigtail a sharp tug as punishment for his words. "what would've been mean is if i fired your scrawny ass the second i got in here for fraternizing with a suspect. but i didn't, did i?"

"n-no... you didn't." choso murmurs meekly in response, his eyes wide and pleading at the prospect of losing his job. he quickly attaches his mouth back to where toji showed him your clit is, suckling gently in an attempt to please both you and his stern boss.

"now thaaat's more like it," toji croons lowly, his voice rich and gruff as he pats the top of choso's hair like he's a well-trained dog. "good boy."

a quiet mewl spills from his busy mouth in response to the praise, his hips weakly bucking against your leg as he tries desperately not to let himself fall apart without getting the information they need from you first.

toji notices, because of course he does, and he wraps a hand around your chin and forces you to look down at the pathetic display below you. "look at him, pretty. y'got him humping your leg like a damn bitch in heat. pussy must be sweet as candy."

"i-it is— shit, it is." comes choso's slurred mumble, popping his mouth from your clit with an lewd pop! before delving his tongue back between your sweetened folds. he may be inexperienced, but he's a quick learner.

"'s that right?" he chuckles, tilting his head to the side. he's speaking to his subordinate, but his eyes never leave yours. it makes you shudder involuntarily, his smirk stretching wider when he takes note of your reactions to him. "lemme get a lil' taste for myself then, kid."

choso obediently moves to the side to make room for toji, but when he doesn't join him on his knees, he looks up with an adorably puzzled expression across his features.

his boss moves his hand from the other man's pigtail down to grasp his chin, roughly pulling him up into a bruising kiss before he can even think of uttering a single protest.

choso whimpers helplessly into the kiss, not bothering to fight back at all as toji sucks lewdly on his tongue, stealing your sweetened juices straight from his subordinate's mouth.

he smacks his scarred lips once he pulls back, humming in satisfaction as his eyes return to you. "rookie's right; that's one ripe cunt y'got there. too bad it's wasted on a damn criminal."

his words make a mixture of arousal and annoyance flare up in the pit of your stomach, another small trickle of wetness gushing out of your core to pool on the plastic chair beneath you as you glare up at him.

"you're deluded if you think i'm telling you anything when you talk to me like that." you spit out, the look on your face one of pure disdain, despite your situation.

"oh, dollface," toji chuckles deeply, ignoring the squirming choso beside him and leaning down so his face is level with yours. "you're not gonna tell us just anythin'. you're gonna tell us everything."

before you can scoff right in his face, choso has been shoved back between your legs by his hair yet again, the feeling of his sweet, warm mouth sucking on your clit making your eyes almost cross in your head.

taking your distracted state as an opportunity to rile you up even further, toji shoves a pudgy thumb between your lips, pressing it right to the back of your throat so you can't even think of talking back anymore.

your resolve is hanging by a very, very thin thread.

despite how much you despise toji, you instinctively start to suckle on his thick digit, too blissed out from choso's sloppy ministrations to bother with how shameless you must look right now.

"mhmm, that's a good girl," he coos mockingly, swirling his thumb around inside your mouth. as composed as he seems, the feeling of your warm, soft little lips around his digit is making him extremely hard in his slacks. "knew y'had some obedience in ya somewhere."

choso mewls again when he feels your spongy walls fluttering around his tongue when he slides it inside your needy hole, assuming that must mean you're close to the edge; close to spilling the information they need.

instinctively, he speeds up his movements, fucking you on his tongue in such a lewd yet somehow gentle way as he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you from squirming on the chair.

but suddenly, just when you can feel the coil of an impending orgasm building up in the depths of your stomach, all the stimulation is gone.

toji's thumb leaves your mouth with a wet pop!, and choso gets yanked away from your core with his mouth open and drooling like a dog.

"what the fuck?" you pant out breathlessly, your eyes half-lidded as you glance between them quizzically. choso looks just as confused as you, wriggling against toji's grip on his hair in a fruitless attempt to get back to your sweet pussy.

"what? y'thought we were g'nna let ya cum that easily?" toji chuckles richly, a wide grin stretching across his scarred lips as he easily restrains a rabid choso with one strong hand. "nah, girl. y'gotta tell us what we wanna know first."

shit.

you should've known this would happen. to begin with, you were sure you could manage to keep yourself together if it was just choso servicing you. but now, with your body writhing and desperate for release and it was just toji standing in your way to stop you from getting it?

you were surely about to break.

"what's the matter?" toji croons, his voice dripping with mock concern as he thumbs at your lower lip with his free hand. "lost y'er attitude, pretty?"

you could just stay quiet. refuse to talk — get sent to a jailcell with your panties soiled and your cunt still throbbing with need.

or, you could tell them what they wanted to know. spill the beans on your shitty team members who had abandoned you and were probably rolling around in heaps of cash right now at your hideout without a care in the world. and in return, get your first proper orgasm in a long, long time.

you already know which option you're going to choose.

your voice quiet, you mutter the numberplate of the getaway car your group had used to escape the bank. it's all they need to find your associates; a little tracking using the police system and they can easily decipher the exact location of the vehicle.

toji grins, reaching up to give your head a condescending little pat as a reward while he releases his grip on choso with the other hand, causing his subordinate to dive face first back into your needy pussy.

a shameless moan escapes from deep in your throat, your hips weakly grinding up into choso's face as he feasts on you like it's the last meal of his life. you can feel him smiling happily against you, clearly pleased his method of interrogation worked out in the end, even if he did need his boss's help.

you end up hurling into an overwhelming orgasm when toji spits down onto your cunt, the salvia being swiftly lapped up by choso's eager tongue without a moments hesitation.

your entire body convulses against the plastic chair, the handcuffs digging into your wrists as you writhe and squirm, shameless mewls and cries escaping your lips as you attempt to come down from your high.

you can't even remember the last time you came that hard.

"aww, y'didn't even make 'er squirt, kamo," toji huffs in overexaggerated disappointment, causing the other man's swollen lips to form into a confused little pout. "dontcha think she deserves a proper reward for givin' us the information we were after?"

"squirt? how do i make her do that?"

"tch. damn clueless rookie," he huffs, shoving choso away from between your legs and sinking to his own knees before you. "let me show ya."

suddenly, the consequences of snitching don't seem so important anymore.

© 2024 SUGOROO. please don't copy or translate any of my works without my explicit permission. all rights are reserved to me.

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

[ellecdc]

New to Nesting

alpha!Remus Lupin x omega!bestfriend reader who nests for the very first time [2.2k words]

p2 to this post but can be read as a standalone

Prompt: Nesting-character A is building their first nest and is a bit overwhelmed and confused - their nest ends up being a bit...unconventional. Character B is still incredibly proud of course.

Remus had spent the majority of his life fighting against The Wolf, his lycanthropy, his nature; he resisted the deeper urges and instincts that threatened to take over at any given moment.

So when his best friend presented as an omega, prompting him to present as an alpha, he was once again ready to fight his instincts, his nature.

Sirius told him all he knew about alpha’s - the Black’s being a line of alpha’s until Sirius presented as a beta were the only examples of alpha’s he could go off of - and it’s understandable why Remus was so wary of giving into his nature, even if it meant getting to keep you.

He had no desire to give into the animalistic urge to claim you, to have you belong to him, to be subservient to him.

So you can imagine that it came as a huge surprise (and relief) for him to realise that being your alpha was not claiming you, it was not you belonging to him, and it was not you being subservient to him.

It was caring for you, valuing you, protecting you, and it was devoting himself body and soul to you.

So, you know, nothing had really changed since the two of you started dating. What he had already felt for you just became instinctual for him.

Being your alpha meant taking care of you, and so he did.

Though he admittedly didn’t feel like he was doing a very good job of it at the moment; mostly because you were pacing around the flat chewing your thumb - which was likely very close to bleeding at this point - and mumbling incoherently to yourself as you picked up and put back various items and then squirrelling back to the room before washing, rinsing, and repeating.

He’d asked you what you were up to a few times, to which you quickly waved him off. He’d asked if he could help you at all to which you quickly declined.

He was pretending to read when you came wandering back into the room, still muttering, still chewing on your thumb, still lovely and beautiful and his and fuck he loved you.

And it was because he loved you that when you ended up standing over him giving him your best doe eyes and asking if you could have the blanket he currently had over his lap, he simply pulled it off his lap and handed it to you instead of pointing out the fact that there was a free throw blanket folded nicely over the couch across the room.

He was rewarded for his sacrifice by way of a sweet kiss, though, so he wasn’t too bothered.

While you were back in the room - doing whatever you’d been doing - he summoned the other throw blanket over and continued in his reading.

But eventually he realised he couldn’t find his bookmark, so he stood and shook his (new) blanket out and put it aside before checking the cushions of the sofa to no avail.

He knew you had come back into the room, but you still managed to startle him when he turned to find you standing right behind him with his throw blanket held tentatively in your grasp.

“What are you doing, dovey?”

“Can I take this?” You asked in way of answering; tone soft and eyes large.

Remus began to speak but his words died on his tongue; he didn’t want to say no to you, but you’d also already taken one of the blankets from the living room. Were you cold? Were you getting sick? Should he light a fire? Should he call St. Mungos?

He didn’t know where to start, so all that managed to escape his lips was “do you know where my bookmark went?”

You wrung the blanket between your hands as you avoided eye contact with him. “I borrowed it.” You admitted in a whisper.

“Oh…okay…” Remus started slowly. “But…what will I use for my book?”

That had, apparently, been the wrong thing to say when your eyes welled with tears and you looked at him in devastation.

“I- I’m sorry.” You nearly sobbed, and Remus was quickly shaking his head.

“No! No no, it’s okay dovey, it’s alright. I’ll use a receipt.” And to punctuate that decision, he pulled a wad of receipts out of his trouser pocket to show you.

That, apparently, was a mistake too as you eyed them in interest. Thankfully he was able to convince you to let him keep one of them before you squirrelled away with the rest.

And then it hit him.

He ran to the kitchen to check the calendar on the wall that the two of you used to track each of your cycles as well as the moon - you were coming into heat.

And though he was accustomed to your heats by this point; this behaviour was very new.

You were nesting.

For the very first time, at that.

Remus felt his chest swell with pride and love, though tried to keep both at bay as he carefully tiptoed down the hall towards your shared bedroom.

He could hear a record - one of his favourites - playing quietly in the background before he made it to the doorway.

Both blankets you had stolen from Remus were hanging over the two side railings of your four poster bed frame - closing in the bed with only an opening at the foot of it not unlike a den.

You seemed to have tucked Remus’ receipts and bookmark in between two pillows, and he could spot a few of his jumpers, his towel from his shower this morning, the throw pillows from the couch he usually used as back support, a hair brush, a few socks, and… a fork?

“Baby.” He breathed out, causing you to turn on the spot and bring your thumb back up to your teeth. “What are you up to?”

You let out a pained breath from your nose as your eyes welled up again. “I don’t know.” You whispered.

“Are you making a nest?” He cooed, and you let out a wet sound.

“It’s bad.”

He found he couldn’t take it anymore and pried your thumb from between your teeth, pressing a kiss to the raw skin you’d been mauling all afternoon. “It’s not bad, dove.”

“It’s terrible.” You continued as you eyed the nest sceptically.

“Stop.”

“I’m terrible at this.”

Remus took you by the shoulders and turned you towards him and forced you to make eye contact with him. “It is not terrible, and you, my love, are certainly not terrible either.”

“I’m not good at it.” You whimpered then, tears finally falling down your cheeks that Remus was quick to catch with his thumb.

“You’re perfect at everything you do.”

You let out a sound halfway between a groan and a sob. “You have to say that.”

“Dovey, it’s your first nest; it’s wonderful.” He pressed, and fought back a chuckle when he could feel you stop your foot petulantly.

“Why don’t you try it out, hm? Maybe that’ll feel better? Do you want to take a shower and get into some comfies to give it a try?” He murmured into your hair, relishing in the way you melted into his side as you considered the prospect.

“Would you come, too?” You asked shyly.

Remus pulled back only far enough to look you in the eyes.

“In the shower? Or-”

“My…nest.” You corrected, though you all but sneered the end of the sentence as if nest was a dirty word.

“I’d love to, baby. Go shower, yeah? I’ll put a jumper in the dryer for you.” He directed with a gentle pat at your hip, but you shook your head and tugged at the jumper Remus was currently wearing.

“I want this one?” You whispered in the form of a question, and Remus should have expected it.

“Done, it’s yours. I’ll wait for you, okay?”

And Remus felt a little guilty, but he figured you didn’t need to know that the second you were out the room, he ran to grab his camera and take pictures of your nest, your very first nest; one you built here, with him, for him and you with things of his you deemed worthy and fuck he was going to simply combust with the amount of fondness he felt coursing through his veins for you.

True to his word, he was standing exactly where you’d left him (if you ignored the fact that he ran to grab his camera, took multiple pictures of your nest, ran to hide the evidence of his picture taking and returned only moments before he heard the water shut off) when you exited the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

He quickly divulged himself of his jumper and held it open for you to put your head through the neck hole, allowing him to pull it over the rest of your body as you let the towel fall to the ground.

“Do you want this one too, dove?” He asked you quietly as he picked up your used towel, referring to the fact that you had his towel in your nest already.

You seemed to consider it as you lifted one end of it, bringing it to your nose to sniff before releasing it with a shake of your head.

Remus bit back a beaming smile as he pressed a kiss to your head and carried it to the hamper.

When he came back, you were kneeling in the middle of the bed with your thumb between your damned teeth again, and a protective sort of possessiveness surged through him at the sight.

“It’s not right.” You murmured sadly.

“What’s not right about it?” He asked gently, reaching over for your hand and huffing when you gave him the one not currently being assaulted by your mouth.

“I don’t know…”

“May I come in?” And you startled as you looked over at him in awe.

“Yes.” You said almost excitedly, moving over to give him room.

He tried to pay mind to where you had seemed to place things, not wanting to shift or disrupt the nest you had made as he crawled in. “Where do you want me?”

You seemed to think on that before ultimately pointing to his side of the bed where he laid back tentatively.

“You look uncomfortable.” You said worriedly as you watched him lay rigidly on his side.

He offered you what he hoped was a smile though he was sure was mostly a grimace. “I don’t want to ruin it.”

You scoffed as you nudged him at his shoulder so he would relax. “It’s already ruined.”

“Dovey.”

“It’s terrible, you can’t ruin it.”

“It’s not terrible and I can ruin it.”

“Stop arguing with me.”

“You stop arguing with me.” He countered, and he relished in the small giggle that escaped your lips as you moved to lay beside him.

“I…I think it’s better now.” You said tentatively, eyes still darting around the bed as though you were trying to make sure.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…I think it was just missing you.”

Remus let out a pitiful sound at that and pulled you into his chest. “Fuck you’re so sweet, I love you.”

You sucked in a deep - and apparently well needed - breath as you melted into his side, pressing your nose to a point in his neck signalling Remus to grab your wrist and bring it to the other side of his neck to scent.

“I’m proud of you- don’t argue with me.” He murmured, cutting you off before you even had a chance to utter one word of contradiction.

“Thank you, Rem.” You opted instead, still hiding your face in the junction of his neck he didn’t deign remove you from.

The two of you sat in contented silence for a while before Remus broke it.

“I think we could do without the fork next time, though.” He admitted as he shifted his hip when he realised that’s what had been poking him in the back.

You nearly ripped yourself from Remus’ neck to grab the fork and toss it across the room, smiling to yourself as you considered your nest again.

“Okay…okay, I- I think this is better. This is better.” You decided, speaking more to yourself than you were to him; he was happy to listen anyway.

Remus smiled as pushed a lock of hair behind your ear. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

You smiled down at him; ethereal and warm and bright and his and fuck he loved you so much.

“I love you so much.” You whispered, drawing a line down his nose with a gentle finger before pausing at his chin, apparently having read his mind.

“I love you too, my sweet girl.”

And Remus was so glad that he didn’t have to fight the instinct to pull you into his chest and breathe you in; to love you, protect you, to devote himself to you, body and soul.

[faux-ecrivain]

Yan Idol

(Third official post)

Yan idol who used to be your best friend, the two of you used to be so close, but then he was recruited into stardom and suddenly he spent less, and less time with you.

Yan idol who changes his entire personality, appearance and habits (on request of his manager), until you can’t recognize him. 

Yan idol who pushes you away in favor of his famous peers, he reschedules your hangouts and brushes you off.

Yan idol’s popularity grows and so does his ego, at first you two have simple arguments. (he didn’t do his half of the chores, he didn’t pick you up from work, those sort of things) Then he starts to berate you, insisting that he was never truly your friend and only hung out with you because of pity. 

Yan idol who regrets those words the moment he says them, trying to repair your friendship with faux apologies. But it doesn’t work, you kick him out of your house, you tell him that you never want to hear from him again. 

He relents, saying it doesn’t matter as he storms out of your house, and tries to avoid his luggage as you throw it onto the yard. The two of you have a shouting match, then he’s ushered away by his manager (who had heard of the commotion via paparazzi).

When he’s safely hidden away in the car tears begin to fall and the guilt he feels fully sets in, the days pass and he tries to reconnect with you. But you reject his calls, you blocked his number and you won’t answer any letter he sends you.

Eventually his manager has had enough and tells Yan Idol that he needs to move on, that if he doesn’t start to focus on his career then he’ll be let go.

Yan idol who relents, giving in to his manager’s demands and trying to forget you. (It’s difficult, everywhere he looks he’s reminded of you.)

Yan idol who, after many months have passed, has somewhat successfully put you out of his mind. (He’s made different friends, friends within his tax bracket)

However this all changes when he sees you at a meet and greet, you’ve come with some friends, you don’t seem happy to be here. But you’re here and everything he ever felt for you comes rushing back.

He smiles (brighter than he ever has) when you and your friends approach his booth, when you and your friends are standing in front of him and you look at him. It’s almost like you recognize him, but then you look away. (Why did you look away? Don’t you recognize him? Don’t you want to be with him again?)

He tries to get your attention, but you tell him you don’t want his autograph, that you’re only here for your friends. (You definitely recognize him, you just don’t want to admit it. He thinks you’re just scared, you’re worried that he’s still upset. But he isn’t, he just wants you back, that’s all.)

Yan idol who makes the impromptu decision to invite you and your friends over (to the manager’s chagrin). 

Yan idol who incapacitates your friends and then kidnaps you.

Yan idol who’s overjoyed to have you back in his arms, he holds you close and ignores your pleas of freedom. 

Yan idol who continues performing as though nothing changed (somehow he managed to avoid being charged for the incapacitation of your friends, and the police are encourage to ignore any reports of you missing)

Yan idol who continues to gain popularity with every concert he puts on, then when it’s over he comes home to you, and acts as though the two of you were married. (Despite how much you struggle and fight)

Yan idol who’s blissfully ignorant of your anger and frustration, who interprets your actions and attempts to escape as a way of expressing your betrayal towards him.

Yan idol who promises that he’ll never leave you again, that he’ll always be here for you.

(Not my best work, but not my worst work. Either way, enjoy this short fanfic and feel free to comment.)

[bumblebeem]

Transformers One (mostly Bumblebee) things I can't stop thinking about.

During the film's opening when Orion Pax falls into a room and onto a table full of energon, he bundles a load of it into his arms and is eating as much as he can until he drops it all and has to keep fleeing.

He's starving. The miners are being underfed as well as overworked.

Additionally, we see Bumblebee has three rations on his person when he offers one up to wake Alpha Trion. This might suggest he's keeping these rations for when he'll need them rather than being able to comfortably feed himself. For the miners it's a scarce resource they have to be careful with, and yet the transformers on the higher levels are enjoying it in abundance.

Bumblebee urging D-16 to "stay down" during Sentinel's attack.

This is an interesting line - if it was a nothing line meant to reflect compassion/empathy, he could have urged Sentinel to stop, or implored the 'bots next to him to take notice and do something. There were other ways to demonstrate "Bumblebee is kind and doesn't want his friend to get hurt."

But he doesn't look to authority or anyone else around him for help on D-16's behalf.

He instead instructs D-16 on how to behave to get the abuse to stop.

Which suggests to me this is learned behaviour, and he's giving advice based on previous experience. He's learned that taking the punishment and letting it happen gets the perpetrator to eventually stop, but resisting and fighting against them keeps it going.

That he was reassigned continually right down into sub-level 50 would tell me he's had more than his fair share of annoying a bigger 'bot enough to get himself knocked around once or twice. And very likely, nobody witnessing the abuse helped him, and/or the authority in the room was the one perpetrating the abuse anyway, so of course they weren't going to step in and help.

The only way out for him has always been to just take it :( So he assumes this will be the quickest/least painful way out for D-16, too.

Bumblebee is as much of a nerd as Orion is.

He knows about the High Guard (and is very excited to recite what he knows about them), he recognises the Primes as soon as they come across them in the cave, he watches the broadcast Orion locates inside Steve's head with interest... It's very subtly done, but I think this is the main shared trait between Orion and Bee. I wish we had seen more of Bumblebee trying to talk to Orion about this shared interest, but I get the main relationship they wanted to portray was that between Orion and D-16 (and really enjoyed that regardless!)

Bumblebee knows how to leave sub-level 50, yet he still goes back to his post, and doesn't appear to be using this escape-time to socialise with anyone else on the other floors he can access since he is so very clearly starved of social contact.

I'm not crying, okay, I'm just imagining this poor little guy sitting out of view watching the other cogless 'bots come and go, knowing he could get into more trouble and be even more isolated if he announces his presence and gets himself caught.

Also his "limited access" to the waste management area, and that thing he says about the main one in charge there preferring that he stays on task and really not liking any distractions... Ugh.

Bumblebee is purposely isolated in that room and there's apparently enough of a deterrent to keep him in it that he is forced to make imaginary friends out of trash to talk to instead.

I'm gonna go insane with grief and rage.

[trinkerichi]

The Amazing Toybox Circus!

A storybook - Part 1

Once upon a time, there was a very old toy shop.

An unremarkable sort of place with very few visitors. The shelves were lined with antique curiosities which had collected dust over the years.

Among these, atop a colorful wooden toy chest, was a simple kaleidoscope. It was inscribed with a strange design of teeth and eyes, and a poem about a magical circus.

...

Now, one might imagine the type of person would walk into such a place. Perhaps someone who has worked far too hard. Someone who feels unsatisfied with the tedium of every day life, and who longs for an escape into the fantastical world of imagination that playthings can inspire. This sort of person might look through a kaleidoscope and dream, just for a moment, of a new life filled with bright color, of fun and adventure.

This was the sort of person who suddenly woke up on the floor, surrounded by darkness and extremely confused.

Feeling dizzy and thoughts hazy, she righted herself and began to wander. A soft jingling noise followed her with every step, though she paid it no mind. There were more pressing issues at the moment.

She strained her mind trying to remember how she could have possibly ended up here. She clearly remembered entering a toy shop, but her thoughts beyond this were blank besides a vivid image of swirling colors. Red and blue spirals. All she knew at the moment was that she felt terribly afraid, and very very small.

Timidly, she called out-

"HELLO, MY NEWEST SUPERSTAR!"

An enormous wooden ventriloquist dummy suddenly burst from the shadows. His painted eyes gleamed, one blue, one green. His wooden teeth chattered as he loomed overhead. He pulled a white balloon on a string, which sported an equally large toothy grin.

The sight was positively terrifying.

"Welcome to the amazing toybox circus!"

"The ... the toybox what?" She squeaked in response.

"Why, the toybox circus of course! You're sure to have a grand time, my dear! " She was suddenly lifted up to meet his unsettling wooden gaze.

"My name is Caine! I'm your ringmaster," he continued at an unnecessarily loud volume.

"My dear, you've entered a wonderful world of whimsy and adventure, where anything can happen! Soon you'll meet your new friends and we shall put on a show!"

He spun her around before setting her down on the floor again.

The girl was speechless. Be part of a circus? Led by a talking puppet? Surely this was all a strange dream!

"I'm sorry, sir," she eventually said, somehow managing to speak politely considering the circumstances. "But I really must be getting home! If you'd kindly show me the way-"

"Oh but you simply must stay for the performance, my dear! I've prepared all sorts of activities that are sure to delight! Oh the audience will love you! You shall be the star attraction!"

The puppet was very insistent. At a loss, the girl considered her options were either to continue wandering the darkness or to trust this "ringmaster". Now she was an intelligent young lady, but she was also a curious sort. After all, curiosity was what brought her here in the first place, and curiosity compelled her to see what would happen next...

So despite better judgement, she finally said -

Hesitant but hopeful. Perhaps this would be interesting? At the very least, she could play along until finding a way out of this strange place, out of the toyshop and back home. Or until she woke up, as this was likely a dream after all.

"At any rate, this may be fun," she hoped out loud.

Something cackled from atop a large shelf. The silhouette was that of a rabbit, but with a wide yellow grin.

"Heh HEH! You'll soon see, little clown," he said, before hopping out of sight.

What an odd place this was...

----part 2 coming soon!

[a-b-riddle]

Not me imagining medic reader who acts weird around Ghost.

At first everyone thinks that you’re just weirded out. 6’4 wall of a man in a skull mask. His eyes covered in black makeup and eyes such a deep brown they’re almost black. Anyone in their right mind would be on edge.

But then as time progresses it doesn’t stop. You don’t ease up no matter how many times you’ve been around Ghost. Eventually the 141 begins to suspect something much more sinister.

Theories of knowing something about Ghost you shouldn’t. Are you working for Makarov and worried? Your eyes never leave him anytime he enters a room. Your voice wavering anytime he asks you a question. You’re not like that with the others. You’re hiding something. And they know it.

Johnny is the one you’ve gotten closest to in the 141. The one who wants to believe you’re not a traitor. You’re Birdie for Christ’s sake. Their bird, as they call you. You couldn’t be betraying them. He’s able to convince the guys to let him get you drunk. See if you slip up.

It’s a quiet night on base. Johnny had manage to get flavored vodka imported. Enticing you to come have a drink in his barracks.

And boy, do you.

You get too tipsy to notice how off Johnny seems. How his voice is softer, more alluring. You also down notice the phone face down on the table, serving as a live walkie-talkie between him and the others listening in Price’s office.

Johnny and you bullshit around. Talking about F1 racing, the need for more help in the medbay and even what your plans are when you get back home.

Eventually, he can’t take it anymore. He needs to know.

“What’s your deal with the Simon?” He finally asks. His question grants you pause, almost instantly sobering you up. Johnny sees it in your eyes. His heart breaking because he begins to believe he was wrong.

“Hen,” his hand grabs yours, when you don’t say anything. “I know something is going on.” You try and pull away but he doesn’t let go.

“Have-” you begin, trying to figure out how to tell him. Johnny is your friend. He wouldn’t care. But you fail to come up with the words. “Fuck.”

“Please.” He begs. “You know you can tell me.” You wait. Contemplating if you should tell him. But then it could mean losing any respect you had earned with them.

“You can’t judge me.” You made him promise, tears beginning to well in your eyes.

“I won’t.” He promises, offering a squeeze of reassurance. He knew that the moment you confessed to whatever it was you were hiding, the team would be in there. He knew what would happen to you. And although there were no romantic feelings he held toward you, he still cared.

You took a deep breath.

“It’s the mask.” You confessed. “It’s hot.” Now it was Johnny’s turn to pause.

The mask?

“What?” He asked in disbelief, pulling his hand off of yours. “What do you mean it’s hot?” “You’re worried that he’s sweating underneath it.”

“I want to fuck him.” It felt like a weight lifted the moment your confession of lust escaped your lips.

Johnny sat there, knowing his Captain, fellow Sergeant and, most importantly, his Lieutenant were listening on the other end of the phone.

“Simon.” he clarified. “Ye want to fuck Simon.”

“I mean if he keeps the mask on.” You shrug, looking at his bewildered expression. “It’s a kink, Johnny. Some people like feet or being led around on a dog leash.” You down the rest of the sweetened liquor, cringing as the last sip makes your stomach flip. “Men in masks do it for me. It’s a thing now. Lots of women like it.”

He doesn’t say anything. The room filled with uncomfortable silence until he breaks out in laughter.

“If you say anything, I will murder you and we both know I can make it look like an accident.” You threaten.

“Feckin’ hell.” He sighs, wiping tears from his eyes. “This isn’t how I expected the conversation to go.”

“Well,” you say standing, needing a moment to get your bearings. “It’s also over. I’m calling it a night.”

“I’ll walk ye back to yer room.” He says standing.

“No need.” You wave off. “I’m good.”

He knows you’re right. But now guilt eats away at him for even thinking you were a traitor. So he lets you go, listening to the sound of your footsteps fading as you walk down the empty corridor.

Several minutes later the others join him in his barracks. None of them saying something until, Johnny looks at Simon.

“Looks like the little Bird has a thing for you, Lt.”

Simon rolls his eyes.

Thankful that his mask is hiding his shit eating grin.

[nottsangel]

— artrick and camgirl!reader ੈ♡˳

moodboard

it began as just a quick way to make some extra money during college and nothing more than that. you were a bit apprehensive at first, aware of the risks and consequences of someone finding you, but eventually, you started to find joy in it, especially because you received a lot of attention— even more than the other girls on the same website. people, who where mostly older men, started to like you, and money began to pour in like never before. but no matter what, you had to keep it a secret from everyone.

yet, patrick who scours the whole internet for porn that matches his specific taste, managed to unexpectedly find you while you were live. he almost couldn’t believe his eyes— his best friend, with her legs spread wide as she touched herself and loud moans escaped her mouth. and god, the way you moaned sounded so angelic, with your pretty, soft lips parted in ecstasy. he simply had no other choice— he had to tell art.

“i swear to god patrick, i don’t wanna see those golden shower porn videos again.” “just, trust me, you’re gonna wanna see this.” patrick insisted as he opened his laptop. he glanced at the time. 10 pm. that was usually when you came online on thursdays, because yes, patrick had already watched you so many days in a row, he memorised your streaming schedule. “who are these girls?” art questioned with a raised brow, puzzled as to why patrick would show him random camgirls, until he noticed he noticed you— fully naked while you held a vibrator against your swollen clit, causing his eyes to widen as he leaned closer to the laptop screen. “holy… fuck.” “yup. i know.”

and that’s how it all began. now, every day right before you would come online, patrick and art would sit impatiently next to each other on the bed, eagerly waiting for you to go live. “you think she’ll use that pink dildo again?” art asked patrick with clammy hands resting on his knees. “god, i hope so. that one’s my favourite.” and when you finally appeared on screen, a smirk spread simultaneously across both boys’ faces as they stared mesmerised at the screen, quickly adjusting their positions as their pants grew uncomfortably tight.

it was somewhat odd— it almost felt like video calling with you, as if you were touching yourself just for them, until they were hit with the harsh reality of the comments and countless men thirsting over you. the wave of comments flooding in during your streams, especially when you would interact with them, evoked a complex mix of emotions in patrick and art. they were consumed by jealousy— they wanted you for themselves, and they hated the fact that others could see what they saw. “jesus, these men are fucking desperate.” art exclaimed while reading the quick-paced comments with an unamused face. patrick shook his head in disapproval as he let out a chuckle. “i bet they’re all jerking off while watching her, fucking creeps.”

and ultimately… they found themselves becoming what they once criticised the most, as they’re now shoulder to shoulder in art’s stanford dorm room, hands tightly wrapped around their throbbing erections as they pumped it quickly. “this, uhm… this isn’t weird, right?” art questioned, his breaths coming in quick pants as your moans echoed through the shitty speakers of his cheap laptop. “no, no… i mean, we’re looking at her, right? nothing weird about that.” patrick reassured art as his eyes stayed fixed on your movements, and art nodded in agreement.

and even now, as they masturbated not only on their own to you but together, while watching you strip and bring yourself to your orgasms over and over again, they still hung out with you as usual. you noticed a change in their behaviour though— you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, but they seemed more, nervous around you. you brushed it off quickly though, thinking it was just you. but little did you know they were indeed nervous to be around you now, as their eyes scanned every inch of your body covered in clothing, knowing that they had seen all of it— all of you, naked.

“do you… do you think we should tell her? that we know?” patrick asked art as they were once again, sitting in art’s dorm room, their hands lazily pumping their cocks. soft fucks and oh my gods slipped from your lips and resonated through the room along with the buzzing sound of your rose toy, which was the usual on fridays. “i mean, yeah, we should, eventually. maybe… uhm, next week… or something.” “yeah, yeah. next week.”

ੈ♡˳

🏷️ tags: @maizweig @swamp-box @oceandriveab @starkeysprincess @unhingedbanks @imawhoreforu @mcugirl @skylerwhitwyo @maybankswifey @hearts-4-kai @takaosin @imbabycowboy @badesire @parkerloves @diorrfairy @jizzlle

[obbystars]

Drown in the Deep

Synopsis: Drown your sorrows away into the deep dark ocean where it can’t be found. Feel its cold embrace and let the water in. Maybe then, you’ll see him again when you no longer feel anything.

CONTENT WARNING: The reader very much intends to die/get themself killed, detailing how they’d love to drown in the abyss.

Notes: Sebastian Solace x GN!Reader / Spoilers for Sebastian’s backstory / Possibly OOC / Established relationship, can be interpreted as either married or not but they are living together / Angst (Hurt w/ eventual comfort) / Death + blood (not the reader despite the synopsis and content warning) / Not really a happy ending honestly

(This is VERY self-indulgent I love hate Sebastian. Also a bit of experimentation and playing around with his character. I’m not so good on romance stuff, so I hope what’s here is to your liking. Also rewrote some parts A LOT due to idea change/read up on lore and realized things didn’t add up here. I think I’ve got most of it covered though. Anyway I love how a few runs of playing Pressure for the first time, I died to A-60 HAHAAAAA kill me.)

Credits: Dividers by @cafekitsune

A chance to be freed from your criminal record, and a reward worth to last for a very, very long time. As they always say, “High risk, high reward,” and the risks were certainly high. You could very much die. It was a chance anyone crazy enough would take.

But you didn’t sign up for this for the reward. You didn’t care about it in the slightest. To you, this would be an easy way out. An escape from this dreadful life fate had decided for you. So here you are, sitting in a submarine with three others in silence. There’s no telling on how deep you’re going, they never bothered to tell you how exactly far it was nor the possible dangers you’ll be facing. You’ll welcome anything if it means you won’t wake up again.

Still, you wondered why things went the way it did. Everything was fine until your partner was framed for a murder he didn’t commit. Nine murders, to be exact. You were there for the trial. You saw and heard everything. You kept your cool throughout all of it. You were hoping, praying to whatever god is out there to show them he was innocent. None of it mattered in the end.

After the trial, you went straight home, not even bothering to listen to your family who was also there. By the time you entered your shared home and locked the door behind you, you stood in silence for a while. You didn’t know what you were feeling at that very moment. You felt hot tears beginning to swell up, and your vision beginning to blur. Your legs eventually give out and you fell to your knees. You muffled your sobs with your hand as you curled up on the floor.

You couldn’t get yourself to calm down for a while. You don’t even know how long you were laying there once you feel your tears dry up and the sound of your heart beating rapidly leaves your ears. You don’t know what to do.

He was imprisoned and sentenced for execution for the nine murders you know he didn’t cause, but that didn’t matter. You weren’t there when it supposedly happened. You couldn’t prove anything. You were powerless to do anything.

Many early mornings were spent struggling to even leave the house, let alone the bed itself if you even managed to drag yourself to bed. You were too exhausted to even try for most. When you did manage to begin your day, you quickly became aware that everything is so much more irritating. People talking to you, certain noises you hear, how your food tastes… You just wanted to go back home and waste away.

As for majority of your nights, they have been spent just curled up in bed and crying until you eventually exhausted yourself. Gripping anything that resembled or had traces left of him and holding it close, hoping just the mere fleeting scent of him lulls you to sleep. Feeling the cold and empty space beside you and being reminded he’s gone, as if the reminders from your family weren’t already enough.

You know your family has been trying to contact you, sometimes even coming to the house, but you’ve ignored them every time. You don’t want to see them. You don’t want to talk, to hear, or to even think about them. You just wanted to be left alone.

A few years had gone by since then but you didn’t feel any better than before. You weren’t sure if you felt worse. Maybe it was because you felt numb nowadays.

Before you knew it, you soon find yourself behind bars. What you did, you don’t know. If you really did it, you didn’t care. You don’t know how long your sentence is, but you don’t care. You don’t know if whatever you did caused any deaths, but you don’t care. You don’t care anymore. You just wanted to drown in your despair, and this… “job offer” seemed promising. Retrieve a crystal deep inside a facility hidden in the deepest parts of the ocean.

To be so deep underwater to where the sun does not shine, to drift endlessly as water fills your lungs and it becomes so unbearably cold. To where you can’t feel anything anymore, not your body nor your emotions. To just feel the cold water and see nothing but darkness as the water pulls your body to wherever it so desires. Perhaps your remains could become the next meal for whatever lurks in the ocean’s abyss. Your body would never be found. You’d be gone without a trace.

So you signed up, knowing they don’t expect you to return. You don’t either. You don’t plan on getting that crystal, and you don’t plan on returning alive.

The shotgun shell directed at your neck on the diving gear given to you seemed promising as well.

If there is an afterlife, maybe you can see him again there. That sounded nice. You just wish you weren’t sent down with three other people. You never thought it’d be so hard to die in a place where risks of death were incredibly high. Perhaps it was because they wanted to use each other to get the reward for themselves, so they kept each other alive as long as possible. Covering each other’s eyes when the shark was outside the window, turning off another’s flashlight when an odd black figure appeared in the dark, saving each other from the creature inside the lockers… They weren’t going to let such easy bait be killed so easily, not this early.

Still, you strayed close behind as they often checked if you were still there. You kept your head low, until you heard another pair of footsteps from behind you.

Strange… The other three are already in front of you… And they’re just looking through drawers for anything useful.

The footsteps are getting louder and faster. You turned around just in time to see a strangely humanoid, armless figure running at you. It yelped the moment you locked eyes on it, immediately turning tail and running away.

“What the hell was that?!” One of the other expendables exclaimed.

Both of you walked back into the previous room to see where it possibly came from. There was a hole in the wall, shaped exactly like the creature they just saw.

“So they’re really in the walls, huh…” they then lightly punch your shoulder, “Hey, good job. I didn’t even hear it until it made that weird sound before it ran off,”

You say nothing.

“Come on, let’s keep going,”

You looked at them as they rejoined the others then back at the hole. You wished you didn’t turn around.

After a few more doors, the lights suddenly flickered. The one closest to you grabbed you and had you hide in a locker. Maybe they picked up on what you’ve been trying to do. You did willingly look into the eyes of the shark just outside the window, and they had to cover your eyes and drag you along with them. You also opened a locker that was already occupied by a strange creature coated in black and, what you assumed were, purple eyes. You hoped they’d leave you behind to be devoured by it, but you were pulled out and was patched up as best as they could do it. The damage wasn’t too severe, but still. There just had to be a spare medical kit in the room.

Maybe you weren’t being so discreet about it.

There were only three lockers in the room you were currently in and none in the room prior. They pressed on to the next door ahead. You were about to open your locker to step out into the path of the oncoming creature, but it zipped by you in an instant. It was much faster than what you’ve been dealing with.

You hear the others leave their locker followed with a quick flash of the flash beacon. You slowly step out of your locker and follow them into the next room to meet up with the other person. The one in front of you pulled out their flashlight, but ended up tripping over something. You stopped walking as they shine their light over what made them trip.

It was the one who ran ahead to find a spare locker. There was no blood or any signs of injury, but they weren’t moving and their eyes were still wide open. The other two tried to get them to respond, even shaking them, but they remained unresponsive. It was almost like they were just left an empty shell.

You restrain yourself from speaking as you would’ve called them an idiot for giving up a hiding spot in favor to make sure their bait stayed alive for a little longer, only to get killed in the process. Only 27 doors have been opened. Surely not all of you can survive much longer.

By the 35th door, one of them had used a code breacher to open a door without the keycard. Once the door slid open, a large creature with a smiling grey mask was seen on the other side of the door. Before they could react, it lunged towards them and instantly killed them on the spot before retracting their hand as it gets caught in the door while it was sliding shut. The blood splattered all over the floor and even reached you and the other expendable beside you.

By the 47th door, the lights flickered as you searched through a room off to the side. You can hear what you can describe as a distorted chorus faintly echoing down the hall, and soon a loud scream followed with multiple banging against a locker. The noise stopped as you walked to the door leading back to the path you’re supposed to take and you only see the aftermath. A fresh pool of blood and a destroyed locker. There was no body. The creature responsible is no where to be found.

You were alone now. Finally.

You kept your head low as you continued on, not bothering to search through the drawers for anything. Your body is starting to ache at this point. You opened the 50th door leading into a dimly lit corridor.

“Need to stock up?”

You looked up as you see the vent’s cover fall over. You turned around, then back towards the vent. You can see the next door ahead that requires a keycard, but you can’t find it from out here. You didn’t have a code breacher either as the others you were previously with had used them up.

“Come on, I won’t bite,” the strangely familiar voice beckons.

Had he not spoken twice, you would’ve thought you were hallucinating. Or maybe you are right now. A sort of “false hope,” so to speak. Not to mention how you can just barely recognize the voice. You’re having a hard time processing it after everything.

With no where else to turn, you walk to the vent and slowly crawl through. The room was dark, but lit up as you made it to the other side. You managed to get a good look at him, not exactly expecting some sort of fish-human hybrid.

“Ah, there you-” you see how his smile quickly disappears and his eyes widened once he sees you.

You only stare at him, tilting your head slightly to the side. He looked like he had just seen a ghost which wouldn’t be so far off considering what you had to witness for the past 49 doors, but why was he looking at you like that? He cautiously lowered himself down, close enough to your height but still far enough for some space.

You instinctively, though slightly, moved away as his hand moved closer to your face. That was until he finally spoke.

“[Name]..?”

You stepped back upon hearing your name leave his mouth. You narrow your eyes at him, “How do you…?”

Then it finally registered in your head. You’re not just hearing things, that voice was his.

Your eyes widened, now feeling his cold hand against your cheek, “S-Sebastian?“

“Yes…! Yes!” He nods, smiling widely, “It’s me!”

You couldn’t hold back your tears at all. The moment he confirmed it was really him was what finally broke down your walls. The last time you had cried this much was when he was to be executed. You had to hold onto his hand to keep yourself standing. He seemed to sense that as his third limb pulled you closer to him and held you in a tight embrace. You buried your face into his shoulder and sobbed until his grip on you got a bit too tight.

“W-Wait, Sebastian-!” You cried, “Let go!”

He gasps, immediately pulling away. You winced as you gently rubbed your arm. You looked up at Sebastian again and smiled.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you’re still alive. I have so many questions. Can I-?”

Sebastian stops you there, “Hang on. Before I get to answering your questions, I have one tiny question for you,” he suddenly towers over you as he yells, “How the hell did you get here?! And why the hell did you sign up for this?! Didn’t they tell you the risks? That you could very much die?”

You jumped at his sudden change in tone and almost fell back. His tail had went to cover the opening of the vent in case you ultimately decided to make a run for it. What do you even tell him? That you signed up just to die? No other reason. How could you tell him that?

“I-I… Well, yes, they did. I just- It’s because…” you don’t know what to say.

“Tell me the truth,” he demands. You swear you heard a hiss in his voice, “Of all people, why did you have to end up here?”

“I signed up for this because…” you paused, “Specifically because I wanted to die. I knew what I was getting myself into, Sebastian. They didn’t tell me anything specific,”

“Of course those idiots didn’t…” He scoffed, “They don’t expect you or the others to return,”

“I never planned to. I couldn’t care less about this so called crystal they told me I was supposed to retrieve,” you looked away, “Honestly, I don’t even remember what I did to end up here… Maybe I did something that killed a few people, or maybe I was framed like you,”

Sebastian calmed down a little and had moved back as you spoke. He repositions himself so that his back was against the wall and his tail would nudge you towards him.

“You said you signed up with the intention to die here,” he then says, “Why?”

You sit beside him as his tail slightly curls around you, “You were sent for execution and confirmed to be dead. I just couldn’t live with the fact that I couldn’t see you,”

His looks at your bloodied clothes and noticed bandages through some of the holes in your uniform. He points to it, “Are those..?”

“It’s from this weird black tentacle creature in a locker. It’s nothing too serious, if that’s what you’re wondering,”

He muttered a name you didn’t quite catch and he quickly moves on, “And the blood?”

You shake your head, “It’s not mine,”

He lets out a sigh of relief at that. It was finally your turn to ask questions.

“Sebastian, how did you survive?”

“Was picked up by Urbanshade before I was supposed executed. Guess they decided it’d be better if I was officially declared dead,”

“And you became this during that time?”

“You could say that. It’s, uh… It’s a long story,”

He doesn’t want to discuss it and you knew that was the case. So, you didn’t question it further. You have a good feeling you may have an idea now that you noticed a document on the table. Whatever was in there might have the answers to most of your questions, but you’re not sure if you even want to read it if he lets you. The mere thought of what could be mentioned in there makes you sick.

There’s still one other that you desperately want an answer for.

“We’re… not leaving this place, are we?” You questioned, not looking at him, “At least, I’m probably not thanks to this diving gear… One shotgun shell pointed directly at my neck, and if I even try to take it off, tamper with it, or leave this place,”

You stopped there. Both of you knew. Sebastian didn’t say anything for a moment, “I can get both of us out of here. I just need more time,”

More time. How much more time before your body can no longer keep going? You want to believe him, you really do, but you really might actually die here.

How ironic. You came here because you wanted to die. You watched the others die before your very eyes without much of a reaction. All of a sudden, you feel your stomach drop.

You’re afraid to die.

[stevestark]

Eddie survives the Upside Down by sheer force of Steve Harrington's will. He, Robin, and Nancy come upon Dustin sobbing over Eddie's very alarmingly still body, and Steve doesn't even hesitate to heave Eddie over his shoulder and carry him to the gate. He refuses to think about whether or not Eddie is dead and this is pointless — he'll be damned if he doesn't try everything. They manage to get Eddie through and escape themselves before the earth starts ripping itself open, and Steve carefully lays Eddie on the bed in the RV, tearing down the road at an ungodly speed, driving straight for the hospital.

He's so singularly focused on not letting Eddie die that he doesn't remember about Erica, Lucas, and Max until he watches in horror as a gurney carrying Max comes flying through the doors of the emergency room, Lucas and Erica running behind it. The nurses stop the Sinclairs from following her through to the surgical wing, and Steve hurriedly vacates his seat, pulling the two kids into a hug, apologies pouring from his lips. Eventually, he stops babbling, and everyone takes a seat, Steve wincing as he does so.

The bites on his sides still smart, but he can — and will — wait to get seen himself until he hears something about Eddie. When they'd shown up, Steve carrying Eddie bridal style and screaming for help, everyone around them had thought Eddie was dead; after getting him on a gurney, a nurse yelled at everyone to shut up as she pressed a stethoscope to Eddie's chest, and the next thing Steve knew, Eddie was being wheeled away from them to surgery. Dustin had fallen to his knees, appearing to be praying to anything listening, and Steve nearly joined him. Somehow, Eddie was still alive. Steve refused to be seen until he knew that was still the case.

Hours pass before they're allowed in to see Eddie; when they are, it's somehow more horrifying than the moment Steve had found him cradled in Dustin's lap. Eddie is still motionless, but now he's paler, there's what looks like a hundred wires coming out of his body, and a tube is breathing for him. Steve hazily registers the doctors explaining that the blood loss was significant, as were the wounds littering Eddie's body, and that it's going to be a waiting game to see what happens next. He startles when he hears the gentle comment that if Eddie doesn't wake within a week, it's unlikely he ever will; Steve refuses to even consider that as a possibility.

Nancy manages to talk Steve into getting his own bites cleaned and stitched, which turns into taking him home for a shower and a change of clothes; they're still driving the stolen RV, and when Steve pulls back into the hospital parking lot, he hesitates before climbing out. Eddie's denim vest is still sitting on the sofa, bloodstained and ripped all over. Steve digs through the cabinets of the RV until he finds a sewing kit, and brings the vest inside with him.

He carefully washes out as much of the blood as he can in the bathroom sink, and plops into a chair at Eddie's bedside, pulling out red thread and a needle from the sewing kit. Nancy, Robin, and Dustin all exchange looks before simply sitting in silence, watching Steve carefully begin to repair every tear in the fabric.

Eventually, Nancy gets a hold of Wayne Munson, who enters the room, sees Steve hard at work on his project, and doesn't say a word — he just pulls a chair up next to Steve's, claps him on the shoulder, and reaches out to pat Eddie's leg through the hospital blankets. Neither Steve nor Wayne leave their spots other than to use the bathroom, and nobody tries to make them.

Three days into Eddie's hospital stay, the door opens, and Eleven, Jonathan, Will, Mike, and someone Steve doesn't recognize enter the room. Steve looks up, unblinking and on the verge of unseeing, before turning his attention back to the vest; two small hands reach out and cover his, and it's only then that he registers who's standing in front of him. Eleven is looking at him sadly, and hesitates only briefly before she leans forward to hug him.

He grips her tightly, and takes a shaky breath before holding a hand out toward the Byers brothers and Mike, and sooner than anyone can blink, there's a massive huddle of arms enveloping Steve. For the first time since leaving the Upside Down, Steve lets himself cry; nobody comments at it, nobody even acknowledges it — other than Eleven, who gently wipes his face with her sleeves when they finally separate.

More chairs are dragged into the room, and suddenly Eddie is the most popular patient in the hospital — tied with Max, of course, as the group takes shifts between the two rooms. Steve and Wayne are the only permanent fixtures in Eddie's room, just as Lucas and Erica are the only permanent residents with Max.

Steve finishes patching the tears in the vest, but Eddie hasn't woken up yet, so his fingers itch to keep going. He pulls out a spool of white thread, and outlines the jagged stitches he made before, carefully working his way over the entire vest once more. When he finishes that, he grabs black thread, and repeats the process.

He's in a sort of trance as he stitches away, conversations happening around him but sounding like they're miles away. It's not until someone physically stops his hands moving again that he realizes the words are being directed towards him; confused, he looks up and jolts so strongly he nearly tips his chair backwards. The person who stopped him working this time is Jim Hopper, and for the first time since the doctor gave them the stupid timeline, Steve feels hope. If Hopper can come back, Eddie can too. Eddie can too.

On day 6 of Eddie's coma, Steve speaks for the first time, tired eyes looking at Eleven beseechingly. "Can you... will you see if he's still in there?"

Eleven takes the bandana Wayne passes her and ties it over her eyes, one hand gripping Eddie's, the other intertwined with Steve's. She focuses on the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the wheezing of the oxygen pump, the sounds allowing her to drift into the in-between. She finds Eddie curled in a ball, hands clutching his sides, tears silently streaming down his face.

As she did with Steve, she gently reaches out and wipes his face clean, and waits for him to acknowledge her; he eventually looks up at her and his eyebrows furrow. "Who are you?" he asks, voice scratchy with disuse.

"Eleven," she says, holding out her hand to you.

"Henderson's friend?"

Eleven nods. "Come. Time to leave here. They're waiting for you."

She pulls Eddie to his feet and starts walking forward, focusing her hearing until she can isolate Steve's breathing pattern under the din of the hospital machinery. Her eyes fly open under the bandana, and she rips it off, turning to look at Eddie expectantly. For a moment, there's nothing and then —

Eddie starts choking on the breathing tube, Wayne starts yelling for a doctor, Steve breaks down in fresh tears, and the kids are cheering.

It's hours of examinations later that Steve is finally able to return to his seat at Eddie's side, everyone, Wayne included, giving him a minute alone with Eddie. When he enters, he notices Eddie is holding the vest, tracing his fingers over Steve's haphazard stitching.

Sheepishly, Steve raises a hand to rub the back of his neck. "Sorry," he mumbles. "I did the best I could."

The stitches zigzag across all the places the fabric had been slashed, both by demobat talons and sharp bushes in the Upside Down forest, and Steve's work has it looking like branches of lightning working their way across the vest. Eddie shakes his head and looks up at Steve, eyes wide and shining. "You fixed it."

Steve shrugs and Eddie shakes his head again. "Harrington.... Steve. You... you fixed it. For me."

Steve inches forward in his seat, and reaches out to grab one of Eddie's hands. "I dunno, I kinda think I fucked it up. But I could tell when you threw it at me that this was something that was important to you. I didn't let that place take you away, why would I let it take your things?"

Eddie laughs, head thrown back against his pillows, hand squeezing the absolute life out of Steve's. When he finally settles, he looks at Steve bashfully, head dipped down just enough that he's looking up at him through his eyelashes. "Talk about a declaration of unambiguous true love," he whispers.

Steve doesn't seem surprised or put off by Eddie's assessment; in fact, all he does is beam at him before lifting Eddie's hand to his face, pressing a featherlight kiss to his bruised knuckles.

"Take me out on a date first, Munson. Then we can start throwing words like love around."

As the room fills with the sound of Eddie and Steve's laughter, the rest of the group filters back in, including Lucas pushing a wheelchair-bound Max; Steve looks around at all of them and sighs around a soft smile.

They won.

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Ok, I don't really post here, but there's a Merlin AU idea that's been rattling around in my skull like it's a pinball machine and I need to get it out, so here we go:

Imagine an AU where Balinor doesn't die and banishes Kilgarrah before sneaking away so Uther doesn't catch him and can't put his newfound son in danger. Of course, both he and Merlin are heartbroken about having to be separated again after just finding each other, but they work out a way to keep in touch and occasionally meet in secret.

And this is all well and good, and everything in the show just kinda proceeds as normal up until about season 4, where we have the knights of the round table well-established in Camelot.

It'd make sense that after a few years of travelling around with Kilgarrah, Balinor would be pretty well-known and well-feared throughout all the five kingdoms as "that dragonlord who escaped the purge and now travels around on the back of a giant dragon", and people all over Albion are kinda terrified of the guy.

Rumors say that he never smiles, that he can kill a man in a split second without even utterring a spell, and can decimate kingdoms with the dragon under his total command. That makes for a formidable figure!

And then one day, Balinor is trying to sneak into Camelot to visit his son (he heard Merlin got hit by a dorocha and wants to make sure he's ok!), and the knights see him and freak out because holy shit that's one of the deadliest guys in Albion!

They're in a tense standoff, with Balinor threatening to call down the dragon on them if they don't let him through. The knights are all ready to give their lives to at least buy the people in the castle time to evacuate, when suddenly Merlin and Arthur make it to the standoff. Arthur immediately starts strategizing with his knights on how they're going to negociate with the sorcerer in an attempt to make sure that they aren't all slaughtered.

Meanwhile, Merlin just laughs and pushes through the rows of knights blocking Balinor's path to the castle. The knights, being very fond of Merlin and not wanting to see their kind little friend be brutally murdered by one of the most terrifying men in exsistence, are trying to grab Merlin and pull him back to safety or shouting at him to get back, but Merlin manages to avoid them as he walks up to Balinor.

For a horrifying moment, the knights and Arthur think that Merlin is about to sacrifice himself for them, but Merlin breaks into a huge grin, yells "Dad!", and runs right into Balinor's arms.

(Merlin and Balinor reason that now that Arthur's king, they might as well start easing him into some of Merlin's less shocking secrets)

And even more shockingly to the knights, Balinor hugs him back, asking Merlin all about how he's been doing, how are his studies under Gaius, etc etc.

And all of the knights just bluescreen. Because the math isn't mathing on this one. Hunith + Balinor = MERLIN?! Does not compute.

They're all pondering how could someone as joyful, friendly, and kind as Merlin be the spawn of a terrifying man like Balinor?? They just cannot comprehend it. The manservant who they all know and love came from this sorcerer who's name is synonymous with the threat of death and destruction??

They're all jolted back to reality however when Balinor asks Merlin if he wants to come back to Balinor's newly-renovated stronghold in the mountains (that's only accessable by riding a dragon) to learn more about one day becoming a dragonlord. And suddenly, the knight understand why Balinor's here. He wants to kidnap Merlin from them and twist him into a terrifying sorcerer to carry on Balinor's legacy!

It all basically dissolves into a long game of high-stakes tug-of-war between Balinor and the knights + Arthur, and Merlin's just enjoying spending time with his father and his friends.

Balinor will just casually crash one of their quests while riding Kilgarrah and "kidnap" Merlin while the knights fight to keep Merlin with them.

Balinor eventually gives Merlin Aithusa so he can get practice raising dragons, and the knights see it as some evil scheme to make Merlin betray Camelot and attack it from within, but damn it Merlin's already adopted the damn thing so now they're stuck with a baby dragon.

IDK if I'd ever write a fic about it since I'm pretty busy writing another fic rn, but I thought that it was a funny idea to throw out there!

PS: if anyone wants to read my current project, where I'm giving Sir Leon more anxiety with each chapter after a kinda-botched magic reveal on Merlin's part (and Merlin may or may not be an eldritch god), feel free to check it out here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54027337/chapters/136771564

Thank you all for sticking with my incoherent rambling! :D I hope you have a great day/night!

Also, please let me know if you guys wants to hear more of the ideas that pinball around in my head!

[youryanderedaddy]

tw: gn reader, non - con, kidnapping (hinted)

He's awfully gentle - and perhaps that's what you hate about him the most. The way your tears reduce him to a shell of a man, the way he holds you tenderly, like glass about to shatter from the wind. The way he looks at you - like you're the only person in his small grey world that's made of moving, breathing flesh and fragile breakable bones and splash of incoherent colour all over your cheeks. The way his irises move with feral speed when the ring on your sharp, barking laugh fills the stuffy mold - infested air with life, and his heart all but throbs out of his chest when you push him away.

He holds you at night through the nightmares and the screams, refusing to let go as you fight with all your might to break free, but it's pointless. He knows you - he's studied you, every creek and curve, every dream and fright, every single thing that makes your being tick and purr and surrender. He speaks your language, despite your best efforts to remain hidden, to remain a mystery, he's managed to slice through the protective shield of your psyche, of your most intimate fears, and he's made himself at home in your arms.

It's odd - perverse even, you realize in rare moments of rationale, how used you are now to waking up with his warmth inside of you, nested neatly between your folds; whispering soft little nothings in your flushed ear. Keeping you at the realm between sweet dreams and bitter reality, making you question every fluttering touch, every butterfly kiss against your throat. You're not sure what's real anymore, hot, throbbing pressure pulsating in the middle of your core, the honey nectar dripping down your thighs, back arching in a pleasure - fueled spasm so erratic you're left breathless. Overwhelmed by ecstasy, followed by guilt - ridden shame in a ruthless cycle you have no hope of escaping anymore.

To think it used to be different all those months ago when he first took you in. You would scratch and bite, kicking at will - acting as crazy as possible in hopes he'd find you too difficult to keep. But alas, his gaze never hardened, lips mouthing words of adoration in respond to your countless insults.

"I hate you. I fucking hate you, y-you - you maniac!" You'd hiss through clenched teeth, sweat forming under your brows as your whole body stiffened before his naked figure hovering over you, strong muscled arms keeping you close to his chest in an awkward mockery of a hug.

"Shh, I know you're scared, my love." He'd caress your hair softly, running his fingers through your wet messy locks, cooing as if you're a cornered animal. "I know you're frightened, but I am not going to hurt you, precious. I love you more than you could possibly imagine. You don't know how long I've dreamt of embracing you." He'd press hot, feverish kisses down your collarbone, stroking your numb fingers until you eventually unclenched your fists. "Just like that, you're doing so good for me, angel, so fucking beatiful for me, just lay back and let me show how much I adore you."

You'd relax your hips slowly, keeping your eyes fixed to the ceiling - yielding to the inevitable, yet making a last pitiful attempt to hide the growing heat between your legs.

"You're so perfect, angel." He'd say, slowly undressing you. "I need to feel you against me. I hope you can forgive me one day - but here, before you, I am just a man. Without you my life would lose all meaning, I can't let you go. Forgive me. Love me, please."

And somehow deep within your heart, you wonder if you truly can.