♡ A/NOTE. of course!! you didn't specify a gender for the reader, so I did my best to keep it gender neutral 🫡 (yes, I know the headers are all mlw... but I can't find anything else) And I'm sorry Ifa's was so short 😔
♡ ORORON
♡ He's a virgin. People haven't really ever wanted to do anything with him — with a soul like that, who would? He doesn't blame anyone. And every time someone outside his tribe has tried, he's never... been good enough with people to do anything.
♡ He has no idea what he's doing. He freezes up, and you'll have to guide him. Kiss his neck, or slide your hand down to his waistband, or guide his hand to your chest and he will combust. His face is so red and he doesn't even breathe. Is this really okay? Are you okay? With this? With him? He's unsure, but he's very eager. It's undeniable how much he wants to do this, even if he's a little hesitant the first couple of times.
♡ He'll need a bunch of reassurance. Which, he does have a praise kink. Say he's making you feel good, how pretty he is, how good he's being. And also, a degradation kink. Fuck, the moan he lets out if you call him anything dirty? A bitch, slut, whore? He's staring at you in shock, and then borderline begging you to say it again. He doesn't want to be called dumb or anything — but mean words he's down for. Call him your good, used whore and he might actually just cum on the spot.
♡ He has a pretty average libido, but he's really sweet and will always prioritize spending time with you above sex, no matter how much he likes it. He also doesn't mind using his hand, if you have a lower libido. And he also absolutely has the stamina to keep up if you're active.
♡ He cums quickly. Like, embarrassingly quickly, but he can go multiple rounds. And he cums a lot. Like, kind of overwhelmingly much. You'll both be covered by the time you're done. If you can keep going longer than him, he will shyly ask if you're okay with letting him go down on you.
♡ Not into anything mean. Anything that's painful, or things like dacryphilia turn him off. Most of it is a very clear hard no. But bondage.
♡ Get him a collar. Get a chain attached to it. Pull him around like he has nothing to do other than be between your legs. Bind his arms together when you ride him, so he can't touch, and yank on the chain when he gets too whiny to make him shut up. It's a crazy turn on.
♡ The only thing that gets him going more is you being bondaged. Especially your legs. It might take him some time to ask — but fuck does he like it. He's nearly cuming at the sight of it alone. Having your legs tied up, apart, so he can see the way they jerk and shake when instinct kicks in. When you try to close your legs and can't? He's moaning like a cheap slut at the sight. Presses into you slowly just so he can see the way your legs shift and flinch.
♡ He is loud. He moans and whimpers and has absolutely no shame in letting you know how good he feels. He's not vocal. I mean, he can barely make out words. Just failed attempts at your name as he desperately ruts into you, moaning loud, tears in his eyes... You can try making him beg, but he won't be able to make out any words.
♡ "Fu– ah! Ah! Ple– ah- se!" before he lets out the filthiest moan. It's a good thing he lives alone, somewhere away from everyone else. If he had any, his neighbors would hate him. His dick is pretty big too, so you're probably not much better.
♡ He's not the best at aftercare. He can barely make himself get up, honestly, his legs are shaky too. But he'll make do and just grab one of his shirts to clean you up enough before laying down and cuddling you. But he does absolutely but all his attention on you, listening to you if you wanna talk or just brushing his fingers over your skin gently if you go to sleep. And he will make you breakfast the next morning.
♡ KINICH
♡ Kinich isn't loud, exactly, but he is noisy. He doesn't make loud noises, but they are frequent. Sometimes he'll bite his lips with a groan, trying to keep quiet, and he'll run a hand through his sweaty hair while he's on top of you, dick twitching, and it is the hottest sight you'll ever see.
♡ He can go insanely long before ever cumming. Quickies do not work with him. The shortest it's ever taken him to cum has been an hour, and that's pretty quick for him. But if you're really horny and in a hurry, he'll happily use his hands for you. Which, he is great at using his hands. He's strong and flexible with his fingers, and can make you cum insanely fast just using his hands.
♡ He is not willing to do oral. He doesn't have an issue receiving, exactly, but he will not go down on someone and he's feels selfish if someone goes down on him. He doesn't like the taste, and just doesn't like it. If you really want to go down on him, he will make it very clear that he'll happily return the favor in other ways. Oh, and never-mind, you can do quickies!
♡ You'll be the first person to have given him a blow job and he can not handle it. He's never cum so fast before. If you look up at him with his dick still in your mouth you'll get to see the sexiest flush across his cheeks before he throws his head back because he can not handle the sight. Suck on just the head of his cock and he gets loud. The moan he'll release will surprise him, too.
♡ He does have a proper degration kink. Tell him he's no good anywhere but as your personal sex toy. Tell him he's worthless, useless, can't even fuck you right. He's a bit of a masochist, honestly. Tug meanly at his hair until it hurts, flip him over and ride him as you wrap your hands around his throat. He can't even breathe right and he's moaning like crazy.
♡ He wants you to slap him. He doesn't mind you hitting his ass, if that's what you want, but he mostly wants you to slap him across the face. If he's on top of you, fucking you, and he slows down for just a moment, only for you to slap him across the face? You'll be able to feel how hard his dick twitches.
♡ He doesn't like praise. Of course, he'll praise you as much as you want him to — he doesn't want you to return the favor, though. It's not like it's a hard no or anyway, it just makes him feel weird. It's a turn off for him.
♡ He has a daddy kink and a mommy kink. He doesn't want you to call him them, he wants to call you it. Whichever you prefer, he's moaning it like crazy even if he's top of you, desperately grinding his dick inside you.
♡ He wants you to treat him rough, even if he's on top. Hit him, call him names, leave the bedroom after having your fill without letting him cum.... He doesn't care. It's crazy hot. But the way he treats you is the exact opposite. He'll fuck you as hard as you want him to, and he certainly has the strength for it, but he's still very sweet.
♡ He makes sure he isn't gripping you tight enough to bruise you and that his nails aren't at the risk of piercing your skin. He'll wrap whichever hand you don't have pulling at his hair with his own, kissing sweetly at the inside of the wrist. He'll make sure he's consistently checking in to see that you're still entirely into everything happening, too.
♡ He's also very sweet with aftercare. Makes sure he cleans you up, even if you're too tired to shower, and will use a cloth with warm water to wipe you up — and before he even dreams of laying back down to cuddle you he'll make sure you drink some water. He'll get anything else you ask of him, too.
♡ IFA
♡ Ifa is pretty dominant in nature, especially in bed. It's just the role he falls into naturally, and his hands will find your hips and pull you onto his lap without much thinking. While being on top is what he defaults to, he's definitely open to bottoming/being pegged if it's something you want to try.
♡ He loves oral. And he likes giving more than he does receiving. He could spend hours between your legs, and he loves the way your legs try to press against each other when you feel too good. And if you wrap them around his head? He's gone — moaning like a bitch in heat as he hastily pushes his pants down far enough to get a grip on his leaking cock, desperately jerking up and down.
♡ He's also huge on quickies of all sorts. Both of you getting it on during the fifteen minutes he has to wait? Absolutely! You want him to get his mouth on you ten minutes before you're off? Consider it done. There's just something that gets him so hot about the idea of quickies... He almost likes it more than proper sex.
♡ His favorite position is cowgirl. Absolutely loves seeing you on top of him, it's so sexy. He loves giving you the illusion of being on top only to hold you still so he can rut up into you. Likes being able to reach up and flick at your nipples, or grab you by the back of the neck so he can tug you down to suck on your bottom lip.
♡ Huge kisser. Any position where he can't kiss you makes him pouty. Being able to press his tongue against yours, bite at your lips... God, how can he live without that? He's open to whatever position you want to try, but he does make his preference of being able to kiss you clear.
♡ Loves handjobs. He'd rather have that than a blow job, honestly, because he gets to kiss you. Having your hand lazily tug on his dick, at the same time as he gets to press his mouth against yours? Heaven on earth, right there.
♡ He's really into edging you. He loves making you moan out for him to stop teasing. Gives it to you just the way you like it before pulling back right when you're about to fall off that edge. Getting to see you whine about it? Teary eyes after he's refused your organs for the fourth time?
♡ Ain't nothing sexier than that to him. Well, maybe if he gets to see you ride him in nothing but his hat...
♡ CAPITANO
♡ He does not take random lovers. If you've gotten this far with him, it's because he cherishes you deeply and the way he fucks you reflects that. He's crazy strong, and he's overall just a big guy, so he knows he risks hurting you. He's so careful with the way he pushes into you, leaving just the tip inside you for a while to have you adjust... Holding you still by the hips when you try to squirm, shushing you and telling you to be good.
♡ He loves it when you mark him up. Drag your nails down his back, or bite at him, or suck hickeys into his skin. No one will see anyway, so you can go wild. He loves seeing them, and feeling the slight ache of it that reminds him of his time with you.
♡ He has a pretty low libido, so most of the time you're likely to be the person initiating but he outperforms you in terms of stamina by far. He'll have you cumming twice before even considering letting himself cum, and he's capable of going multiple rounds. You can't keep up.
♡ He loves cockwarming. He doesn't except it, but the feeling of you around him is nice — and he loves seeing you squirm as you try to have him move. He doesn't budge. He's plenty capable of ensuing you can't move, either. All it takes is him grabbing your hips and holding you still. He's flexible and strong and very capable of manhandling you into whatever position you want to be in.
♡ Can hold you in the air as he fucks you for hours. You won't hear him complain, shake or so much as slow down at all. The pure physical strength this man has is insane. Could probably hold you up with just one arm the entire time too, honestly, I doubt he even needs both.
♡ He's naturally on the slower side. Capitano prefers fucking you slow and deep, making sure you feel him, all of him. Of course, if you prefer rougher sex he can do that for you. But the entire time he will be making sure you know how much he appreciates you. He'll be rubbing his hands up and down your sides, and he'll be mouthing at your neck and stomach the entire time. The entire time he will be mumbling about how good you make him feel, and how lovely you look beneath him like this.
♡ He doesn't necessarily have too many kinks that drive him crazy, but he's very open to trying just about anything you want. He's very much a service top. Anything that makes you feel good? He's in.
♡ He might hesitate on anything that hurts you, but if you want to use him as your outlet he doesn't mind.
♡ Temperature play is probably his biggest kink. Using his cryo abilities to freeze his dick while he's grinding inside of you? Just to hear you whimper? He's letting out the hottest groaning ever. And things like wax play get him going too, and he might honest to god use wax to spell his name across your torso. He already loves marking you up in any way you'll let him, what's one more?
♡ Return the favor and write your own name across his chest, and his hand flies to grip the base of his cock just to stop himself from cumming. Anything that marks him as yours, he's into.
synopsis : you were assigned to guard the fatui’s best. you knew the bounds of your relationship was strictly professional, but when your conversation one night becomes personal, those lines begin to blur.
❥- pairings : the captain (capitano) x fem!reader
❥- a/n : this post is for my criminal event ! i decided to do the captain, because well, he fits the bill in some aspect. i hope you guys enjoy and feedback + reblogs are appreciated :).
content warnings : nsfw [18+], fem!reader, minors + ageless + blank blogs dni, fatui!reader, spoilers to the 5.0 archon quest, power dynamic, mentions of crime, porn w plot, age gap, finger sucking, use of pet names (baby , darling , my love), some fluff, possessive!capitano, fingering, dirty talk, creampie, biting, outside sex, rough sex, choking, nipple sucking, corruption kink, dacryphilia.
The moon’s bright rays cast themselves over the meadows and mountains over the nation of Natlan. The beautiful plethora of colors that were painted on the various rock walls were shown brightly due to this light. It was a very calm evening in the nation of war. The air was warm with a bit of humidity clinging along with it, but despite the weather, you still had to keep your main focus alive and that was the duty of protecting the fatui’s number one.
Your introduction to the powerful organization wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary. You found yourself seeking out solace within because of your disdain for the heavenly principles that cursed Teyvat. Like many of the fellow members, you believed that the cryo archon had the right approach when it came to dealing with them, so you joined her in the fight to gain every gnosis that belonged to the six other archons. Along with your passion, your abilities were another piece of the puzzle that led you into obtaining the position you had today, and that was becoming somewhat of a guard to one of the harbingers.
The Captain.
Not many members were lucky enough to interact with the harbingers themselves. A lot of them were never seen outside of Snezchnaya or in the public eye at all. However, when the Captain was made aware of the crisis that was occurring in a nation he protected all those years ago, he wasted no time making his way there to understand the pyro archon’s approach to the impending disaster that threatened Natlan. Since you were tasked with being by him, you were immediately told to tag along with him. You hadn’t ever gone to Natlan before, but you wished you had a lot sooner. The land of pyro was full of so much color and life. There was a happiness that bubbled in your stomach when your eyes scanned over the beautiful horizons that were buzzing with different animals or people who were happily playing with their saurian pals. You knew being a part of the fatui meant being a cold hearted individual who, on the outside, had to assert their dominance over others, but there was still a side of you that enjoyed the good things about Teyvat.
While you did bask in the beauty of Natlan, you knew you still had a job to do.
Being around the Captain for as long as you had, you had to learn to become accustomed to his reserved nature. He often didn’t speak to you for long periods of time, and he always kept any personal details to himself. You knew that was understandable, especially given his ranking in the fatui. He was one of the most feared men in all of Teyvat. Some of the other fatui members would shake in their shorts at the mere thought of his name being uttered. You were intimidated by him at times. He was strong. There was a reason he was number one, but you still had many questions about him as a person.
The fire before you crackled every few seconds. There were a few embers that snapped into the atmosphere and disappeared as quickly as they developed. You were stationed out in a campsite that wasn’t too far from the stadium that you were planning to invade the next morning with the Captain. The man sat across from you. He was as quiet as he typically was. If you had to be honest, you disliked awkward silence more than anything. You were a talkative person with the right people, but with him? You were afraid to make too much noise with your feet. He had kicked some serious ass in front of you before, and you did not want to become a human popsicle because of him. You simply followed his orders, no questions asked. He could be mysterious at times. He was a man who was always somehow several steps ahead of everybody else and you learned over the months you’ve worked alongside him that he was very clever. You often yearned to know more about him. All you had was baseless rumors made up by random people.
Tiredness began to creep onto your body a lot quicker than you had anticipated. You forgot that you had spent several days travelling through different areas to get to Natlan. This was one of the first times you had gotten the chance to sleep in a few days. You’re trained to not get lazy or tired, but this was the one time you were about to give in to those ideals.
“Getting exhausted already, hm?”
Your hazy thoughts were interrupted when the Captain’s voice rang in your ears. It always managed to catch you off guard because of how deep it was. There was also so much silence around you both, so it was unexpected to hear him speak so suddenly. “Heh..” you laughed, softly. “You caught me, Captain, my apologies.”
The man before you shook his head, dismissing your apology. “No need, we’ve been travelling for days. I can’t expect you to be wide awake while we’re in front of a fire..” he said. “If you need to rest, don’t worry. I can keep an eye on our camp, and I doubt anyone passing by will attempt to start a fight this late.”
There was a sudden spike in your heart rate at his words. You found it quite surprising that the Captain himself was showing leniency towards you. You were used to him being quite strict at times with the other fatui members who traveled alongside him with you, so this sudden shift made you wonder why he was being so.. Nice? It seemed out of character, and curiosity began to reign in your mind. Could this be a test? The harbingers were a group of individuals who were unpredictable in all forms. He could easily be testing you, so if you did fall asleep, he could scold you for letting your guard down and making him have to protect you. It was your job to save his life in any scenario, after all.
Your eyes flickered from the man to the fire that was still burning. Although you had been around him several times, his presence alone did make you nervous. “No, it’s alright. I have to make sure you don’t get hurt.. Especially with the abyss lurking around here. I can stay up!” you smiled, nervously.
For a moment, the Captain didn’t speak, making that anxious feeling return all over again. Was he going to get angry? Were you supposed to go to sleep? It could’ve been an order hidden in his words. Silence was the most deafening thing to exist.
“I know what you’re thinking, (Y/N), you don’t have to push yourself for my odds.” he broke that silence that was killing you. “As much as I appreciate it, your wellbeing is important. You can’t fight properly if your body is at its limit.”
You swallowed thickly at his words. It was almost like he was somewhat worried about you? It sounded unrealistic. The fatui are known for their selfish motives, so why would the number one member show any ounce of care in his guard? “N-No! It’s quite alright, sir, really! I can handle it.” you tried to sound reassuring, but he could see through your facade like glass.
He shifted in his seat, making you freeze up again. You really disliked how you could never properly understand what he was thinking or what he was planning to do next. You also couldn’t read his emotions because of the mask that hid his features. He never took it off once, and even during combat it remained on his head. “Alright.. If you insist, but if you’re planning on staying awake, then I am too. I would rather not waste the night sitting in silence, so let’s talk.” he said, bluntly.
You stared at him like he said something psychotic. He wanted to talk? What was there to discuss? You honestly didn’t know much about one another besides the basics when it came to your ranking among the fatui, and his obvious spot in the harbingers. You also never took the Captain to be somebody who liked small talk. He kept his words often short and straight to the point, so that’s why it made it all the more difficult when it came to conversing with him in an unprofessional manner. “Sure.. um, forgive me, but I’m not exactly sure what we should talk about..” you could feel your palms becoming clammy from how nervous you were.
He suddenly chuckled, leaving you speechless because you didn’t think he was capable of sharing a laugh with you, let alone a smile. “You’re quite chatty, I’m a little surprised, but that’s just fine..” he paused, shifting his gaze onto you. “Tell me.. Why did someone like you decide to become a part of the fatui?”
You didn’t think he would ask such a personal question right off the bat. He usually could care less about those who were beneath him, but nonetheless, he was a bold man. He had no problem asking uncomfortable questions whenever he wanted. You weren’t sure how to respond. There were so many reasons. “Hm, well, I want the best for Teyvat! I think it’s an unfair world and there should be something done to those who harmed others in a negative manner.” you explained, crossing your legs together. “I dunno.. I just want to see change. Even if it’s something small, it’s the thought and effort that matters most.”
The Captain seemed somewhat unfazed by what you told him, but beneath his mask he was actually impressed by your words. He had heard many people discuss their reasonings and motives for joining such an organization. Some were ridiculous, like suggesting they enjoyed the power they had over others, or that they were able to use delusions to obtain what they wanted. Others had selfish desires for money or the thrills, but you seemed to be somebody who had passion. You didn’t care for the power or the other bullshit that came with being in the fatui. All you wanted was for others to be okay. He admired that, truthfully. He also struggled to process it at the same time. He found it somewhat hard to believe. He had been surrounded by self centered values and desires for so long that he almost forgot that there were people like you still out there. There was still good existing in this cruel universe.
“Hm, I see. You seem to be quite the driven person, and I respect you for that.” he replied. “I think you’ll end up somewhere great in life, and maybe you’ll have the opportunity to experience true peace in this life.”
His words brought comfort to you like a warm blanket being wrapped around you on a cold morning. You were glad to hear he felt optimistic about the future, but his praises made you feel even better, Earning the respect of the Captain wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. You’d have to destroy him in battle to get him to bat an eye at you, so it came as a big shock to hear he respected you. Despite that, you appreciated it. “Thank you, sir. It means a lot to me.. And I hope someday that there will be peace too.” you smiled.
The Captain then stood up, shaking off the large jacket that rested on his broad shoulders. You watched him place it onto the grass that was just a couple inches away from him. He then sat down once again, facing you.
You never saw much of his body. It was always hidden by his clothes and he hardly ever removed it unless he was by himself. Snezchnaya was also frequently cold, so it was understandable that he wore it all of the time since he spent a majority of his time in the land of cryo. However, through the fabric of his shirt, you could see his muscles that outlined through it. There was a side of your brain that was screaming for you to look away, but your eyes couldn’t move away from how nice he looked. You knew he had been through many fights and training throughout the years, but seeing it this close was making your body heat up. You had seen plenty of muscular men in your life, but this was different. He was also your boss, technically. It was wrong to think of him in such a manner. You could possibly face many punishments if your wild thoughts were able to surface to reality.
He seemed to catch on to your staring, because he turned his head in your direction. You couldn’t physically see it, but you could feel his eyes watching you. “Something the matter? I only took off my coat because the fire was making me feel warm.” he explained, raising a brow underneath his mask.
Immediately, you felt embarrassed that he had caught you. You weren’t doing it to be rude or anything, but now you just seemed like a fool in the eyes of your superior. You hoped he didn’t think of you negatively now. It was honestly quite easy to get on the Captain’s bad side these days. “N-No! I’ve never seen you without your jacket, that’s all. My apologies, sir, I shouldn’t-”
“You were just curious, nothing wrong with that.” he interrupted. “And, please, drop the formalities. Call me Capitano, you’ve earned that.”
Your eyes practically bulged out of their sockets from how wide they had become. You were probably the most professional person to ever walk the earth. You didn’t think you would ever have the chance to use the Captain’s other name. It was a rare occasion. You didn’t think any of the other harbingers muttered it either, so what made you so special? All you did was work beside him and protect his life. It was as simple as it sounded, but nonetheless, you weren’t going to protest.
You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the burning sensation that had appeared on your cheeks from his words. “R-Right! I’m sorry, sir- I mean, Capitano! I will use your name instead!” you stumbled over your words like a kid. “I’m not used to this kind of formality..”
The Captain nodded his head. He could understand from your perspective that a sudden change of professionalism could make you feel somewhat uneasy. He never gave out his real name on purpose. He’d much rather be known as the Captain, because, really, who deserved to know anything else about him? It wasn’t like he was an everyday citizen. “I understand, but you will get used to it. There’s no need to feel rushed or embarrassed, (Y/N).” he said. “I actually want to know more about you, because I hardly have any knowledge of your personal life. Don’t feel obligated to tell me anything, but I figured that’s how we could pass the time.”
You weren’t sure how you were supposed to react to his request. This man had to be sick or something because this was the first time he had ever asked to know things about you. Neither of you were friends and your relationship was simple enough. Then again, he was trying to pass the time, so he probably could care less about the little stories you had from childhood. You figured it’d be fine. “Sure! I can tell you anything.” you smiled.
The next hour was full of you talking and the Captain mostly listening.
You shared many stories from your childhood. You talked about your parents and how you missed the meals they would cook for you, or the memories you had of watching the snowfall for the first time in your hometown. To an outsider, you seemed like one of those older people who were telling stories to the children, but to the Captain, you were so much more than that. There were so many interesting things he learned about you within those sixty minutes. You disliked a lot of tart foods, your favorite drink was the fonta that came from Fontaine, and you had a habit of drooling in your sleep from time to time. They were so basic, but he genuinely enjoyed hearing you talk. Your voice was soft and not overwhelming. It’s one of the reasons why he liked having you around him. Unlike some, you were tolerable to be around. Some people talked too much or annoyed him to no end, but you? He could never get tired of you, and that scared him.
He struggled internally at the thought of you. He thought it was fine for a while. He only saw you as one of his subordinates who had to maintain his safety, but slowly that started to change. The Captain didn’t know how to approach these dizzying feelings that were developing for you. He felt comfortable. Like, he didn’t have to put on a brave facade and hide who he truly was when he was in your presence. He wished he could protect you from this world that had become so cruel.
“(Y/N), do you mind if I were to show you something?” he asked, abruptly.
You blinked for a moment, pausing in your words. You had no idea what he was going to do, but you did trust him. “No, what is it?” you inquired, nodding your head to the side like a dog that was curious.
The Captain seemed to hesitate for a moment. He wondered if doing this was going to be a good idea, but he believed that doing so would establish some sort of trust between the two of you. He took a deep breath, then moved to take the mask that had been covering his face for several years.
At that moment, your heart ceased in its movements. You had never seen the Captain’s identity before in the few months that you had been working under him. The mask he wore was a constant symbol of who he was and the unknown often scared many people, but you weren’t afraid of him in the slightest. His face was far from anything like the rumors people had made up about him. His eyes were the color of ice, piercing and bold. His skin was somewhat tan with several scars that were etched onto multiple places on his face. He had somewhat of a mature face, showing his age was evident to what you had originally assumed. He was so handsome and cunning. It made your body feel weak from the mere sight of his features.
Your silence made him somewhat uneasy. He wondered if revealing his face was a good idea. Were you disgusted? Scared? He couldn’t read your emotions on your face, and it was eating him alive.
“My apologies I-”
“No, don’t apologize! Really!” you cut him off, taking him off guard. “I.. I think you look.. Lovely.”
His face completely dropped the moment your words slipped past your tongue. Nobody had ever said such a thing to him before. All of the people he had interacted with had described him as a terrifying person. He was somebody that was a part of an organization that committed crimes on a daily basis. How could someone as beautiful as you say he was lovely? There was so much beauty in the horrible world you both existed in, and he was one of the dark corners that you wouldn’t look at. “You think I’m.. lovely?” he questioned, sounding serious and taken back at the same time.
Oddly enough, you didn’t feel weird about saying it at all. It was almost like there was a sense of comfort that had built itself around the two of you as you talked with each other. “Yes! I admire you, a lot. That will never change.” you replied in a joyous tone.
A burst of warmth suddenly enveloped his stomach. He wasn’t sure what this feeling was or why it was happening. The Captain was becoming even more confused over his emotions. He hadn’t felt something like this before, especially towards you. He didn’t want to admit it, but he actually liked what he was feeling. He wanted to experiment and see if you could stir even more out of the ordinary emotions inside him. You had complete control over him. The Captain couldn’t believe that, for the first time in decades, another woman had captivated him.
He was stunned when you randomly stood up without warning and joined the empty space beside him. The Captain looked at you with somewhat wide eyes. It was an expression you had never seen written on his face before. It made you giggle. “There’s no need to be stiff.. I just wanted you to know that you shouldn’t hide your beauty all of the time. At the very least, you don’t ever have to fear doing it around me.” you made eye contact with him, making his tummy do flips once again.
He remained unmoved for a brief moment, then he made his move.
The Captain suddenly smashed his lips onto yours. His hands tossed away the mask that he had been holding to place them on your waist that he had been dying to touch for several months now. He was shocked to feel that you were kissing him back. After a few seconds, reality hit him like a wave, and he quickly realized what he was actually doing. He pulled away and was quick to feel flustered from his actions. “I am deeply sorry.. I shouldn’t have done such a thing without your-” he was instantly cut off the second you kissed him again, pushing your body on top of his.
“I want this..” you whispered, settling yourself onto his lap.
He wasted no time and pulled you against him. He had often fantasized about what it would be like to have you just like this. Your bodies touching one another, his lips on yours, your hands touching his long tresses of hair. You were a fucking dream. The Captain himself often wondered why someone as beautiful as you were alone in this world. There was so much to like about you. You were too good for a life in the fatui. You should’ve been in your hometown, fighting for your people. It sounded selfish of him, but he thought about taking you away from all of this. Keeping you safe from danger and living a quiet life.
It would be perfect.
The Captain’s hands moved to squeeze the plush of your hips. He swallowed the soft moan that had escaped your lips as a result of his contact on your skin. You sounded just as erotic as he imagined. There wasn’t a single flaw about you.
Your exchanges then started to grow more intense. His tongue dove itself into your mouth, exploring every inch of it. You could feel his painfully hard boner as you ground yourself against him. Each time your clothed cunt brushed on it, the Captain grunted or made some type of noise that was turning you on. There was so much built up chemistry between you both and you couldn’t see yourself pulling away. He was addictive and dangerous. This could get you terminated or into trouble with other members of the fatui. However, you found it hard to show any care at the moment.
There was a brief pause. The Captain pulled away to press his forehead against yours, panting heavily from the lengthy makeout you just had. His pupils were blown with lust and there was a look in his eye that you had never seen before. It made this sudden thrill shoot up your spine at the thought of what was going to happen next. “Before we continue.. I want to warn you that I’m no longer going to hold back. If you wish to withdraw consent at any time, that’s alright, but I’m not going to be easy on you..” he stated, seduction dripping in his voice.
Excitement coursed through your veins at the images being created in your head from his words. You truly wanted to know what the Captain was capable of in terms of intimacy, so you weren’t about to let the moment waste. “That’s fine..” you replied. “I like it rough.. Especially if you’re going to be the one to wreck me in the end..”
That was all it took for him.
The man before you then pushed you onto the ground, hovering over you in the process. His eyes studied the different areas of your body. He couldn’t stop himself anymore. The Captain then pulled your top down, revealing your breasts that were so fucking cute. Your nipples perked as the air blew against them, making you shiver from the exposed contact. He tore your top in half so your upper half was now completely on display for him. His cock practically throbbed at the thought of what your cunt must have looked like, but this was already enough for him to lose it.
He immediately attacked your neck, kissing and nibbling at the most sensitive areas of your skin. He could care less if someone were to see the marks he left on you. He thought it would be cute to watch you try and cover them up.
Once your neck had multiple bites, he quickly moved to your chest. You whined the second his tongue made contact with your nipple. He swirled his tongue around it, making that familiar butterfly feeling appear in your belly once again. His other hand went to play with your other breast, squeezing and using his fingers to massage your other nipple. He could feel how warm your body had become from his gestures. You were so turned on. He had done so little to you.
Your eyes connected with his icy ones. You were a complete mess like this. All you wanted was for him to do more to you. “C-Captain, please, more! Ah!” you moaned out when his teeth scraped around your sensitive nipple.
He removed his mouth from your boob with a ‘pop’ sound. He couldn’t help but smirk at your desire for more pleasure. He didn’t think someone like you could be so erotic. There were so many things he wanted to do to you. The Captain wanted to push you to your limits and break you so all you could think about was him fucking your brains out. “Patience, darling. Let me show you how someone is supposed to make you feel..” he whispered, dragging the pads of his fingers towards your pants.
It didn’t take long for him to yank your pants off, exposing your panties. His cock twitched when he noticed the large damp spot on your underwear. You had practically soaked through them. He took his thumb and pressed your clit, making you jolt at the electricity he sent along your body. You were practically screaming inside your head for him to do something to you. You hadn’t experienced a feeling like this before with anyone else. Sure, you’ve slept with random men you met while traveling, but they were nothing like him.
Maybe it was the taboo of it all. You were his subordinate. You weren’t supposed to be doing something like this with a man who was in a much higher position than you. Who knows what kind of punishment or reaction might come from this getting out. He’s too powerful, so you doubted that he would lose his position in the harbingers, but that turned you on even more. The idea that you weren’t supposed to be doing this. Yet, you showed no signs of caring. It was like he had casted a spell on you and there was no way you’d be able to escape it. Not when he had that hungry look in his eye.
The Captain pulled your panties down your thighs and eventually tossed them away somewhere else. He almost came on the spot from your sticky pussy that was dripping with arousal. He craved nothing more than to have you around him. He took one of his fingers and dragged it along your cunt, making you cry out briefly from the pleasure. He gathered some of your slick and stuck his finger into his mouth, savoring the taste of your sweetness on his tongue. You were just as delicious as you appeared. He then pushed one of his digits into your hole, earning a moan from your lips. You felt so tight around his finger. He knew he had to prep you beforehand, but he wasn’t so sure if you’d be able to take him.
You gripped your breasts as he fingered you at a slow pace. It felt so good. He was taking his time and he was making sure you were enjoying yourself. He had so much knowledge on those spots inside you that made your stomach twist with excitement. “Right there, yes, right there..” you whimpered, looking at him with desperation in your hues.
He grinned at the little responses he was getting from you. You were so damn cute. He wondered what else he could do, but it seemed like what he was doing was enough for you. “Yeah? Talk to me, baby, I wanna hear you.” he started circling your clit, sending double the pleasure along your body.
You were practically humping his hand, coating it with your juices in the process. You couldn’t control the various moans and whines that kept coming from your mouth. You were slowly becoming lost in the bliss, and he fucking loved it. “Please, sir, more! I want you inside me!” you cried.
His eyes grew wide. Who knew you could be such a dirty girl? This surprised him, but nonetheless, who was he to deny you of your pleasure? You had been so obedient to him over the months. It was the right thing to do. “As you wish, darling.” he replied, removing his fingers from your aching cunt.
You shuddered when you heard his belt being unbuckled. You sat up slightly to gain a view of his cock that was fully erect. It was roughly around seven inches with a lot of girth that made you wonder how you were supposed to take it all. The tip was already leaking lots of precum. You could feel this euphoria going throughout your body. He probably had so much pent up stress that he had been waiting to take out on somebody, and that was you.
The man then took your thighs in his hands, pushing them apart so he had full access to your pretty pussy. His breath hitched when his tip made contact with your clit. It had been far too long for him. “I’m not going to hold back..” he whispered. “I want to make you an absolute slut for my cock, got it?”
You nodded, taking your fingers and spreading your lips apart. He took that as his sign to continue. He then pushed his cock into your cunt, making you gasp with pleasure as well as some pain from the stretch.
As soon as he entered you, the Captain let out the sexiest groan you had ever heard. Your walls were hugging his cock so nicely. He continued to push forward, so he was now completely bottomed out inside of you. He looked below at the sight before him. Your pussy was wrapped around his cock like a vice. The sensation of your warm cunt inviting him in was like ecstasy to him. He mentally complained to himself for not taking you much sooner. Now, he wasn’t going to let that moment slip through his fingers. There was so much he wanted to do, and the night was still young.
The air was practically knocked out of your lungs the second he started moving. You felt so full. You were surprised that he was able to make himself fit, but you had assumed that was what the foreplay was for.
It didn’t take him long to increase his thrusts. Once he noticed your desperate eyes silently begging him for more, he took that as his sign to let go. The Captain couldn’t stop drinking in the sight of your gorgeous body. Your pussy squelched and cried whenever he moved, your pretty tits bounced, and that sweet voice of yours continued calling his name like it was a prayer. That self restraint he had was quickly dwindling, but you seemed to not care. If anything, you wanted him to destroy you.
He used his hands to take hold of your thighs, gripping them firmly. You pinched your nipples to feel some extra stimulation while he fucked you. Due to the humidity of Natlan, the both of you were already becoming quite overheated. You could see the sweat glistening on the Captain’s body. It outlined his well defined muscles and the scars that were scattered over his skin. “Captain! Please, don’t stop..” you whined. “Feels so good..”
His right hand went to cup your cheek. He used his thumb to press onto your puffy lips, placing it into your mouth. You obediently sucked on his thumb, swirling your tongue around it. Fuck, you were so fucking dirty. He didn’t need to ask for a single thing. “You’re such a good girl. You drive me crazy..” he then removed his thumb, moving it to your swollen clit. “Don’t you worry about a single thing, okay? The Captain will take care of you, darling.”
You let out a cry when he began playing with your clit. The pleasure he had been giving you was now becoming overwhelming. His dick was practically breaking you apart. The tip abused that button inside you that made stars appear in your vision. He knew exactly what to do to make you fall apart in his hands.
There was this sudden protectiveness that creeped up on the Captain. Looking down at you, he could feel that urge to want to save you from a place like this. This world and the organization you were both involved in was terrifying and cruel. The idea of possibly losing you to somebody else made anger course through his body. He knew it sounded selfish. It was likely that your ideals differentiated from each other, but he didn’t care. He wanted to keep you safe. That idea of living a quiet life with one another sounded wonderful. For the first time in so long, he could actually imagine such a life with somebody else that didn’t seem temporary.
His thrusts suddenly slowed to a more tender pace. You looked at him with curious eyes, wondering where the sudden shift came from. “I’m gonna keep you safe..” he grunted. “Do you understand me..? I’m gonna make sure your beautiful heart is never broken again.. You won’t have to live in fear with me beside you.”
Your cheeks felt hot at his words. It almost sounded like the Captain was confessing to you at that very second. You weren’t sure what to say or how to react. It honestly made you feel some sort of comfort. Someone like him being able to take care of you without having to worry about the enemies that could potentially harm you. His words sounded sincere. It made your heart leap out of your chest. “R-Really..? You want that?” you blinked, placing your hands onto his broad shoulders. “Please don’t lie to me, Capitano..”
He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours. The lengthy strands of his hair drooped over the sides of his head. The expression on his features was serious. You could feel his eyes studying you. “I could never lie to you. Not when you’ve done so much for me.. I crave nothing more than to be with you, and only you. I will devote my entire life to keeping you alive..” he replied. “The choice is yours, my dear.”
You said nothing. Instead of using your words, you kissed him. This time, your kisses felt passionate and loving, unlike the ones you shared prior. These were real. You couldn’t find any deception in his tongue and the way he spoke.
He read your mind and resumed with those harsh ruts. He swallowed down any noises that you made and smirked to himself at the way you struggled to kiss him back whenever his tip kissed your g-spot. He decided to go deeper and angle his hips a different way. He was practically fucking up into you, and you were loving it. The kiss you were sharing was now broken apart because you couldn’t control what was coming from your throat. He thought it was cute to see you in such a state. It was almost like you had forgotten the two of you were both outside.
“Capitano! Fuck, yes! P-Please, ruin me..” you begged. “I’m so close.. Ah! Please, please! I need you”
He gritted his teeth at your words. He noticed that your walls were becoming much tighter than they were before, implying that your orgasm was just ahead of you. Your desperation turned him on. He wasn’t about to make you wait.
The Captain grabbed your hips. He had you practically bouncing on his cock from the force at which he was pulling you towards him. Your belly was tightening up with the erratic thrusts he was unleashing on your body. You could feel that climax inching closer. It was making you lose control, and all you could think about was his cock completely ripping you apart. You wanted him to be the only one who made you cum. He was the only man alive who was capable of making you feel such euphoria.
Those were the exact thoughts the Captain wanted you to have.
With one final thrust, your orgasm completely crashed over you. Your pussy clamped around his cock, leaving a sticky creamy white ring to circle around the base. Your thighs were trembling and you could feel tears developing on your lash line from how amazing your climax felt on your body. “Ahhh.. oh my god.” you cried, panting heavily from how intense it was.
The Captain pushed your thighs towards you so your knees were now nearing your chest from the way he had you bent. Your hazy eyes grew wide when you realized that his thrusts weren’t ceasing, and he was continuing that rough pace against your cunt. “I’m not done yet..” he said. “This pussy is gonna be dripping when I’m done..”
It didn’t take long for him to drag another orgasm out of you. The overstimulation was sending waves of pleasure all along your tired body, but you didn’t want it to stop. Your pussy was aching and spasming around his dick, drawing the Captain closer to his own high. Those disgusting thoughts of him filling you to the brim with his cum were clouding his mind heavily. It was all he could think about.
He grabbed onto your throat, firmly gripping it so he could properly fuck you. He could feel his cock twitching and that familiar feeling of an orgasm hurtling towards him with every rut of his hips. He practically growled the moment his balls tightened, finally releasing his cum into your cunt. Warm thick spurts of his seed leaked into your womb, making you shiver from the warmth spreading across your lower abdomen.
He removed his hand from around your throat, remaining inside of you so none of his cum would slip out of your hole. His fingers brushed along your cheek. Your face was so gorgeous to him. Your eyes were glassy and there was a lazy smile resting on your lips. “Like what you see..?” you questioned, giggling slightly from his stare.
The Captain came to your level and pecked your lips. He couldn’t hide his smile when being so close to you. “Absolutely..” he replied.
Warnings: gn!reader, ghost!reader, no set age but you’re younger than the Cap, otherwise it’s all pretty much fluff
A.N: sorry these are a bit short! I simply saw the captain comforting kitty and immediately latched on to him. Enjoy!
•
To everyone besides you and Kitty, the Captain was a stiff, precise, and stoic man who wouldn’t know what fun was even if it bit him in the ass. Him and Fanny share a similar dry humor due to their similar ages but even then Fanny knows how to let lose from time to time while the Captain struggles with the idea.
The Captain is easy on Kitty, treating her as the young girl she died as. While he treats you similarly, he doesn’t treat you as a naïve youth. He treats you like the others; he doesn’t laugh at your jokes for the most part and he is always happy to prove you wrong.
He is definitely kinder to you, however. The tension always eases from his shoulders when he hears your laughter. The man makes sure to let you know when the various clubs were meeting and what Alison was going to put on the television that night. He likes to look after you like that, it was like keeping you updated and organized and on schedule was a love language to him.
Very over protective of you as well. He doesn’t care if you aren’t attracted to any of the men or women (but especially men) of the house, he glares at them if they ever get too close. He knows of all their faults and how they’re basically all walking red flags. None of them would ever be good enough for you so please don’t fall in love with anyone or you’ll give the old man another fatal heart attack.
“Take a step back from them, Julian. It’s improper.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, Cap, I’m just teaching them how to play chess!”
“With your trousers off?”
“It’s not my bloody fault I died with my pants off!”
The Captain always calls you by your first name but will absolutely use your full government name when he’s cross or disappointed with you. He can’t stay mad at you for too long though, he’ll give you a long lecture and as long as you apologize and give puppy dog eyes, you’re off the hook.
Will love to rant about you about the war and other military history facts. Have fun watching all the war documentaries, he will quiz you on what you learned immediately after the documentary ends.
The Captain will also ask if you want to join him on his walks to “secure the perimeter of the estate.” You don’t really know what you’re looking for but it’s nice to get out and stretch your undead legs nonetheless. This also includes looking at the birds that inhabit the countryside. Another thing to expect a quiz on after the fact. If you call a robin a sparrow he will give you the silent treatment.
“If you tell me the key differences between ravens and crows I’ll let you choose the film for me tonight.”
“Any film I want?”
“If it’s one of those ‘rom-coms’ Kitty loves so much I’ll revoke the offer.”
He’s actually really good at soothing you. Has no problem showing you and Kitty his softer side when need be. No matter what you’re upset with his shoulder is always there for you to cry on. The Captain is more of a person that offers solutions rather than emotional comfort, but maybe in a decade or so he’ll be good at that part too. The Captain confides in you as well, but it takes a lot of effort and you only get bits and pieces here and there. But he does like knowing he can tell you things as well.
You once called him dad sarcastically and he had a total brain malfunction for the rest of the day. Whether that’s a good or bad thing, it’s hard to tell, but you do it anyway because it’s funny to watch the man short circuit.
Father figure Captain would die for you if he could but is happily content with being able to defend your honor.
Okay so the poll results were for an OC captain, though it was close enough that I still hesitate to name him in the canon of the fic.
I’m also going to be taking my time fleshing out his character because it’s been a while since I made an OC. So please be patient while I add tidbits here and there to build his character.
Content: safe/sane/consensual sex, descriptions of scars, mentions of past torture
Nikto beats you and Nova twice out of three rounds — but that’s no surprise. The man moves like a machine. Even against two opponents he controls the battlefield like a chess master. Neither you nor Nova take it to heart, especially since he always gives you both advice at the end, helping you to improve.
He’s a great partner, a great teammate; you’re sure to show him your appreciation after sparring with a kiss to his nose-plate. His hands spasm on yours as he helps you unwind your wraps, gloved thumb sweeping over your bare palm.
“You did good today,” he says, voice rough and accent thick. He must be pissed about earlier still, when Ghost and Soap threw your matches with them.
“So did you,” you reply, squeezing his hand in return.
“Stay with me tonight?” He asks.
You damn near melt. Nikto has an open invitation to your room, but his is a sacred place, only for him unless otherwise specified. That he’s asking you to come to his tonight…
“Absolutely,” you reply, squeezing his hand. “I just need to see the captain first. Okay?”
He grunts in understanding, eyes flicking to the door the 141 left through earlier. He mutters something in Russian — some insult about goats and mothers you think.
“Yeah, exactly,” you reply, voice dropping with simmering irritation.
A good spar with him and Nova has helped ground you a bit, but it hasn’t helped the anger. You don’t spar any of your team with anger; they don’t deserve.
Luckily, you and your captain worked something out a while ago when you’re feeling a bit… aggressive.
“Cap?” You call, still holding Nikto’s hand. “Could I stop by for a nightcap later?”
His eyes flash, a sinful twist to the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, babygirl. I’ll leave the door unlocked.”
Over his shoulder, you see Nova arch her eyebrows and Keegan grin wicked into his water bottle. Gossip fiends.
“Showers. Now,” the cap says, slapping them both on the ass. “Double time. I need to have a word with Price still.”
—
Long after the sun has gone down, you’re standing outside your captain’s door. Take a breath. Remind yourself of your mantra. He wants you, always will, and he’s going to take care of you.
Then loosen your shoulders, unboxing all the frustration and aggression you set aside earlier. Feel it burn through you, make your hands twitch in and out of fists.
One more inhale, and then you shove the door open.
“There you are,” he rumbles. “C’mere.”
You flash your teeth, “No.”
He tilts head back and forth, cracking his neck. “Alright then.”
There’s no real fight. You’re not looking to get away or actually hurt him. And he’s not looking to actually make you submit. That’s not the point of this game.
He strides across the room and shoves you back, pins your shoulder to the wall. You grip at his forearm, nails scraping, and squirming as the hot, hard length of his body squishes you flat.
“Settle,” he orders.
“Fuck you,” you snarl back, nipping his lip.
He growls, tangling a hand in your hair and tipping your head back. Leaves a searing trail of kisses down your throat, bites a bruise into your collarbone. You wriggle and fuss all the while, safely held still and supported by his hands and body.
“Brat,” he rasps in your ear.
“I’m not,” you snap.
“Oh, yes you are, babygirl,” he replies, a mean smirk on his flushed face. “But that’s alright, I like you bad.”
He pulls you from the wall, bullies you onto the bed. You try to grab at him, get him under you. He doesn’t indulge like he normally would. Pins you on your back so that you can keep fighting, yanking at your wrists in his firm grip, pushing your hips up to grind into his as if trying to flip you both.
He slots his hips between your thighs, positions just his knees under your ass so that your back is arched, shoulders on the mattress. Limits your mobility, but that doesn’t stop you from kicking at air, making half-angry, half-desperate noises in the back of your throat.
“Gonna say please like a good girl?” He teases.
“No,” you hiss back.
He has the audacity to chuckle, which just riles you up more. (It’s supposed to). You curse as he works a hand beneath your shirt, palms at your bare breasts and pinches your nipples until they ache. You gasp like a pornstar, surprised and turned on.
“Pretty noise,” he coos. “Do it again.”
When he twists, you mewl, face immediately burning up as you renew your “efforts” to get away. All it does is make the treatment rougher than if you just laid still and took it, but that’s what you want, what feels good. A little edge to the pleasure as adrenaline and energy electrify you from head to toe.
He grinds against you, cotton of your loose shorts sticking against your soaked cunt. Christ you were turned on before you even barged in. Now you’re fucking throbbing for it.
“Gimme,” you grit out, rocking against him. Gears successfully shifted from physically taking control to just ordering him around.
“Give you what, brat?” He goads, slapping your pussy. The thin fabric muffles the sting, but it sends a white-hot ache through you that makes your eyes roll. “My cock? You think you deserve it?”
Another slap. You cry out, notice the sly look on his face when he notices that you’ve soaked through your shorts.
“Yes,” you reply, all confidence and reckless arrogance.
He yanks his underwear down to mid thigh, thick cock springing up to smack lewdly against his toned stomach. Precum smears over the pale scars there, sticks in the trail of groomed hair there.
“Yeah?” He growls. “Alright then.”
He yanks the crotch of your shorts aside (you hear stitches pop) and then he’s plunging into you. It’s too much all at once and you cry as much, knees squeezing around his tattooed ribs.
“Fuck.” His voice is shredded, so rough and low you feel it more than hear it. He lets your wrists go to grip at your ass, grinding deeper. Can feel the fat head of his cock bullying at your cervix, his favorite passtime while you adjust to the thick base of him.
“How does that feel, babygirl?” He murmurs in your ear. “You needed daddy’s cock, huh? Needed it to set you right again?”
You whimper out a curse at him, gripping at his biceps. He croons mockingly, thumb slipping between your bodies to press at your clit. Not rubbing or grinding, but just pressing. Just the right amount to make you sweat and pant, start trying to squirm to get any friction at all.
He lets you — could stop you if he wanted, or pull away entirely — but he likes winding you up like this. Likes seeing all that vicious energy turned to seeking pleasure from him.
“Fucking move,” you try to snarl, but your voice breaks midway through and comes out more pleading than you’d like.
“What was that, babydoll? Are you talking to me?” He teases, rolling his hips.
Your mouth falls open, a moan ripping from your chest, deep and needy.
“Daddy, move,” you cry, voice going up in pitch.
“There’s my brat.”
He pushes one of your knees up against your chest and slams into you. You scream and he doesn’t even try to cover your mouth, whispering filth as he tilts your hips for the best angle with his other hand. Fucks into you deep and rough, grinning at the obscenely wet noises every time he plunges into you.
Can practically feel him fucking your cervix open to get just that little bit deeper. Licks his lips when he sees the little bump in your stomach. You give as good as you get, squeezing down tight, bouncing to meet him, nails scoring lines down his back and shoulders.
“Gonna ask daddy to make you cum?” He goads.
“Earn it,” you reply.
He laughs and pulls out, flips you onto your stomach while you’re still dizzy with emptiness. Hikes your hips up and sinks into you like coming home. Your knees almost give out but that’s fine by him, he’s plenty strong enough to hold you up all on his own, using you like a noisy little toy for his own benefit.
“Fuuuuck,” you whine, feeling overwhelmed, pleasured tears gathering in your eyes. Then, in a whisper, “Daddy…”
“Feel like being good yet?” He asks. A large, rough hand circles that back of your neck and pins you face down to the mattress.
“N-no,” you whine, fight gone out of you now that you’re getting exactly what you want.
Fuck it feels so, so good. Every inch bullying you wide open and loose, so wet you’re dripping down your own thighs, wetting his ball as they slap against you. You feel split open and pinned, unable to do anything but take it, tortured stupid on ecstasy. He licks a stripe up your back before pressing you down prone, ankles locked around yours to keep you open and accessible.
“S’alright, doll, don’t need to be good to be mine.”
He’s barely pulling out halfway before ramming home now. You can barely get a breath in, the weight of him pressing whatever resistance was left right out of you.
“Daddy, daddy,” you sob. “Fuck, I wan’ it.”
“Want it, huh?”
“Mhmm,” you moan, pressing your face into your arms. Cant your hips just that little bit to get him abusing that bundle of nerves.
“Oh, right there, huh?” He coos. “Did daddy find your little sweet spot?”
A series of short, ruthless thrusts right there, making incoherent, desperate noises fall from your mouth. Before you realize it, he’s wedged a hand beneath your hips and has two fingers toying with your poor, neglected clit.
“‘M gonna… f-fuck, fuck,” you whine, writhing (or at least trying to) against him. Not sure if you’re trying to urge him on or get away. Doesn’t matter, he’s in charge, has been since the beginning. “Daddy, I wanna…”
“Whenever you want, babygirl,” he replies, voice going all warm and gooey. Your chest hitches. “Squeeze around me nice and tight. Let me feel you cum on my cock.”
Didn’t realize that was what you needed, but you fucking scream as you clench down around him, stars bursting behind your closed eyes. He fucks you through it, tapping against your g-spot again and again until you dissolve into a weak, wet whimpers.
“Daddyyyy,” you whine.
And that sets him off, flooding you with heat. He loses control for a second as his hips jerk, pounding brutally into your oversensitive, swollen pussy. Makes a few tears finally slip down, soaking into the sheets along with your drool. The sound of him groaning as he cums makes you spasm around him again, a little aftershock that milks the last of his release.
“That’s it, easy,” he groans, brushing kisses over your trembling shoulders. “Easy, doll.”
He lies over you for a few minutes, letting you feel him there. Right there with you. Breathing and recovering, holding you through the endorphin rush. When you squirm a bit, he eases off you, cock slipping out. You shiver at the feeling of his cum trickling out of you, glassy eyes fluttering.
“C’mere,” he soothes, tugging you in. Lying on his side, he hitches one of your thighs up over his hip, tucks your arms between your chests and rests his stubbly chin on your temple. You splay your fingers over his peck, over the bold, dark symbol for SpecGru. Feel his heart settling back into rhythm and sigh, snuggling in.
The hormone drop is a monster on your emotions, often leaves you shivery and lonely, a little sick in your own body. First time you did this with him ended in tears, expecting him to get up and leave. He didn’t, never has, but you both learned that as much physical contact as possible in the aftermath eases the comedown away from a total crash.
“You did so well, babygirl,” he whispers, leaving kisses everywhere he can reach without dislodging you. “Such a good girl. Even if you think you’re being bad.”
You flush, hide your face against his neck. He chuckles, honeybalm on your soul. Can feel his hand start to move, then pause as he remembers that you can’t handle that stimulation right after sex. So he just squeezes, slow and gentle, helps get you back in your body.
“I still want you,” he assures, echoing your mantra back at you. “Always will. You’re mine.”
You outline a heart shape onto his forearm, not quite able to speak yet. He recognize the feeling though and gently guides your face up to place a slow, gentle kiss to your lips.
“Love you, too, babygirl. Ready to clean up?”
You nod. He eases you up, lets you cling onto his hand as he walks you to the en suite. Fills you a glass of cool water to sip on while he gets the shower running. Turns his back while you use the restroom and wash your hands, then guides you into the hot water.
You lean into him, near boneless, as he washes you, calloused palms with soap instead of a cloth. Then sits still, hands on your hips, while you return the favor. This part is one of the most important for you, getting to freely return touch.
(Simon hardly ever let you touch, especially in the aftermath. Sure, you could scratch and grip at him during sex, but during foreplay it was all part of his dom persona that you couldn’t just touch at will. And afterwards… well. It’s not like he didn’t do aftercare. He did! But the almost formulaic warm cloth wipe down, glass of water, doze for a bit before he left was not… not ideal. Not like this.)
Your captain hums, eyes half-lidded but trained on you, while you smooth your palms over the firms planes of his muscles. Fingers tracing over tattoos and scars. Squishing and patting at the healthy layer of tissue over his stomach and thighs. Lets you nuzzle and kiss his soft cock, even though it makes his fingers twitch with oversensitivity.
Squeezes when you lace fingers together to stretch his arm out, inspecting the lines your nails carved into him.
“M’okay, baby,” he says before you can ask. “Feels good.”
You similarly assure him over the bruises on your wrists and hips, smiling and leaning up to kiss his jaw.
When the shower is over, he dries you off, playfully ruffling your hair just to kiss the pout off your lips. He dresses you in one of his shirts and a spare pair of your own joggers, found in his duffel.
You sit with him for a while longer still, enjoying how he lets himself relax once he knows you’re taken care of. He lies with his head on your chest, your fingers fluffing his hair, while the two of you watch an episode of some stupid show Keegan got the rest of the team into.
Only when it’s over does he ask if you’re ready to go to Nikto’s. If you wanted to stay, you could. Nikto would understand. But you’re looking forward to a night with your quiet Russian while the other three have a little movie night.
At the door, you kiss your captain goodnight. Hug and kiss Keegan and Nova as you pass them in the hall headed to his room. Nova makes a point of kissing one of the bruises on your wrist, while Keegan whispers that he loves you.
You pad to the first door in the hall, where Nikto has stationed himself as the team guard dog. You tap gently at the door, a pre-determined pattern to let him know who it is.
The door cracks open, one startling blue eye peering from the darkness.
“Evening, Nik,” you coo.
A hand reaches out and gently yanks you inside. And then next thing you know, you’re wrapped up in thick arms devoid of any usual covering. You feel smothered, in a good way.
“Love,” he rasps in Russian into your hair.
You hum in return. Place your palms flat on his abdomen. The muscles clench, you pause as you realize his abs, impressive as they are, feel too defined. He needs water. Taking mental note, you draw your hands carefully around, feeling the raised bumps of wicked scars. Make sure he can track exactly where and how you’re touching until your arms are wrapped around him in a return hug.
“Smell good,” he murmurs.
“Yeah?” You giggle. “Showered just for you.”
He snorts, then scoops you up. You make a delighted noise, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carries you across the room. Of course his navigation is impeccable, even in pitch black. He lays you down on the bed, but before he can crawl up with you, you place a hand on his shoulder.
“You’re dehydrated.”
He makes an annoyed noise, sounds like he’s about to protest. You shush him with a quick peck to his chest.
“Get a glass please? I could use some water myself.”
Which has him instantly moving. You politely turn away as the bathroom light flicks on, the water runs. Can hear him chug two entire glasses before he fills it one final time. The light turns off again. The bed dips as he returns, presses the cool edge gently to your cheek.
“Thank you,” you murmur, sipping about a quarter of it to appease him before he sets aside for you on a bedside table.
And then he gets what he really wants, stripping you down and tucking you in like a nesting bird. Practically on top of you while you’re still reeling from how much skin you can feel. Even during intimacy, he tends to stay clothed or mostly clothed. But right now all you can feel is a pair of underwear against your bare ass. Everywhere else it’s miles of warm skin, uncovered muscle and texture of scars.
“This is nice,” you coo. “Can I kiss you?”
“Yes.”
You wiggle around until you’re chest to chest. Start with his hands. Kiss each smooth fingertip, prints flayed off. Then his palms, the divots from nails driving through. Flip them over to kiss his scarred knuckles, smile at the way he twitches, flexing them outward like he’s trying not to close his hand.
“Okay?” You ask.
“Yes.”
You kiss his wrists, his forearms, to his collarbone. You’ve peeked a blue-black tattoo there before. Stars and the start of something that might be religious. Spend a little extra time there, tongue peeking out. He shifts; you take it as a sign of discomfort and move on.
“Here next,” he says when you dip to go to his chest.
He guides your face up his neck, where you press long (but chaste) kisses until you bump his jaw. And realize that’s all skin too.
“Oh,” you breathe. “Can I…?”
“Yes.”
You feather your lips along his fresh-shaved jaw, the nicked scars on his chin. Then up, ignoring the wicked scar along his cheek. Breathe against his temple, feeling dizzy with the trust he’s showing you.
“I love you,” you whisper, continuing along to his nose, twice broken and poorly set each time. A line over one nostril where a piercing was ripped out. He makes a noise in his throat, think he might be having trouble speaking again. Don’t mind.
He lets you get down to his mouth, where a particularly twisted scar warps part of his upper lip away from his teeth. You think that if you saw it in the light, his canine would be visible. His lower lip is uneven too, like a misaligned seam.
You don’t pay any special attention to any of it, focused more on reacquainting yourself with how your mouth fits with his. He doesn’t lead, doesn’t rush or pull or press. But there’s tension all along his body, everywhere you touch. You don’t ask for more than a chaste kiss, and when you pull away, you tilt your forehead gently against his.
How do you think yandere Anderson, Walter, Captain, alucard, and enrico would react to a reader that is just unfazed by everything, just completely be chill about being locked up in there basement/room. They're just like "at least I don't have to pay tax anymore".
Thanks Anon, this one was low key fun to do!
Request: Yep!
Warnings: None really
Characters: Alucard, Anderson,Walter, Enrico, The Captain,
Alucard
“You’re telling me you don’t want to leave?”
He’s shocked, amused is a better word really. After learning that not only are Vampires real, there at least two entire organizations tasked with killed rampant ones, and he’s turned you into one himself, your only question is: So I live here for free? He actually starts laughing when he realises you really just don’t care that he’s kidnapped you.
“Do you realise how hard it is to find a man who will take care of you? I’ll take the free, if questionable, housing and lack of silverware!”
Father Anderson
“Well that saves me a wee bit of trouble, thank you lass!”
He is absolutely delighted that you want to stay with him. He dislikes being rough with his little love so being able to have you so compliant is perfect for him. He gets concerned with his happy you are to stay in a single room all day so because you are so well behaved, he takes you out for walks and to play with the children.
“I like being in my room, I don’t have responsibilities and I get to play with kids all day, why would I want to leave?”
Walter C. Dornez
“Very good Butterfly, I won’t have to clean up after all.”
He’s a bit weary, you’d be fine living with a butler who takes care of an estate housing a dangerous vampire? Because you don’t want to deal with being an adult? To him it’s odd, absurd almost. Over time he believes that you simply don’t care about the circumstances anymore and will happily move you from the dungeons of the estate to his quarters. He even gets Integra to give you a job as a means to help around, he doesn’t want you getting *too* lazy after all. Some responsibility is good responsibility in his eyes.
“Walter, you take care of me and I get gourmet meals for almost every meal…why would I leave?”
Enrico Maxwell
“Really? Well in that case how about I take you shopping?”
Enrico is absolutely delighted by this, and in eyes this is exactly how you should have reacted so he’s more than thankful for your easy cooperation. He’s quick to take you out having full confidence that you’ll stay by his side and you do. He introduces you to Father Anderson and brings you to his ‘visits’ with Integra who is surprisingly amicable despite what he says (only for your sake). He tries to keep you away from the grand scheme of things, however should you find out he’s shocked to know that you prefer to stay with him (not that you ever had a choice).
“I get pampered and protect from monsters, why would I leave?”
The Captain
“You..want to stay?”
He is…very confused. However, if you’re nice to him he’ll be nice to you and he’s got no problem relaxing with you when he isn’t doing anything. Being a werewolf, he’s very comfortable with cuddling you and you almost forget what he is and the kind of life he leads because of how well he tends to separate things. Aside from being a murderer of sorts, he’s an exemplary man and you couldn’t be happier. There isn’t a whole lot of talking, but there is a whole lot of cuddling.
A/N: guys pls tell me the exact names if you request sth, there's so many of those men and I don't wanna accidentally leave out those you want🙈
gn! Reader I no warnings
Anderson - Words of Affirmation
Being the well read man that he is - plus the fact that too much physical intimacy makes him uncomfortable - he prefers showing his love through words, both written or voiced.
Since he's away on missions more often than not, he'll remind you of his undying love in other ways. You'd spend hours on the phone talking about everything from trivialities to deep conversations.
He's pretty repressed and secretive about his inner world, but always has a quote from the bible or any other literature ready to put his feelings into words.
Letters are his favourite way of showing how he feels about you. It just comes easier to him than in person. They're very poetic, and even when he's not abroad he tends to leave some for you to find.
Alucard - Quality Time
Compared to his own, your life is just so painfully short that he wants to savor every single second of it. Mostly it's not even about doing something special, just simply being together.
The relationship will progress very fast due to the same reason. For him there's no way you shouldn't be living with him as soon as things get serious. Will accomodate to your mortal needs as good as he can, of course.
He's the kind of man that would always be present, even if away on missions he'd still have a familiar nearby for your protection (and simply to feel close to you).
Your humanity is way too precious for him to take away for his selfish desire of having you forever, but he'll eternally be grateful for the brief time with you and the impact it made on his life.
The Captain - Physical Touch
What this man can't tell you through words he'll express in other ways - and damn he's addicted.
Always has a need to be close to you, and as soon as you're in range he needs to feel you somehow: A hand on the small of your back, his chin atop of your head, his fingers intertwined with yours. No matter what you're doing or who might see, he doesn't really care. Most of the time it's subconscious either way.
He's surprisingly innocent and careful with his touch, as if you're a porcellain doll that might break under his strenght. Adores things like brushing your hair or simply tracing the lines of your face when you sleep.
On the other hand your touch is so balmy to him that this man will practically melt under your fingertips. Every second he cannot feel it is sweet torture.
Walter - Acts of Service
Do I even have to explain? It's literally what he was made to do. Hard to outgrow things you're used to ever since childhood.
There's nothing he cannot do - and if there is, he's willing to learn. Over time he'll know all of your likes/dislikes, habits, etc. by heart and through sheer observation alone. He is also very eager to help you achieve your goals through any means necessary.
He's a man with love for detail, putting in effort even in the smallest daily gestures. With him even the most trivial day will make you feel like royalty, and he is very mindful to support you in any way he can.
Sadly he tends to overextend himself in an anxious endeavour, so you really need to remind this man that he is loved and appreciated even without being 'useful'.
Maxwell - Receiving Gifts
The whole 'affection' thing is new territory for this sociopath, and he has absolutely no idea how to approach it. So he goes about it the way he always does to cover up for what he lacks - overcompensating!
Deep down he's a very insecure man that feels he needs to prove being worthy of your affection, but he also simply thinks you deserve nothing less.
His gifts will always be very personal and thoughtful, trying to show you just how much he cares without actually having to say it. He also loves planning special dates for the two of you to make the most out of the little free time he can spend with you.
Ironically he is very humble when it comes to receiving any kind of affection from your side. He's not used to anything but crumbs, and needs a while until he learns allowing someone to love him properly.
summary : With winter comes mischief, and when the day starts with snow, a snowball fight is bound to happen
contains : just wintery shenanigans hehe ; multi characters! ; implied relationship/friendship ; fluff ; gn!reader, this drabble is written in second person
word count : 317
A soft blanket of white covered the city before you. If not for the biting cold that gnawed at your cheeks and nose, you might have wondered if it was only a dream. The falling flakes melt over your warm face and cling to your clothes in a momentary hug, then fade away into droplets, like a fleeting vision; a kiss of winter...
Amidst the snowy world, you hear people shuffling through the snow just as you were. The city bustled as usual with everyone going about their day, but you pause. To your eyes, one figure stands out amongst the hustle, and you recognise them immediately with an involuntary smile.
Your feet move, boots crushing the fallen snow that covered your path.
"Aren't you cold?" Is your first greeting; scolding, yet softened by the warmth in your tone. They were always one to brush off that same chill that crept up your fingers numbingly. Perhaps the cold didn't bother them, or perhaps they simply forgot to grab a warmer jacket.
They open their mouth and you know it's to brush off your concern; you don't let them speak.
It's a quick movement— your hand moves to brush the snow gathered over your jacketed shoulder, the flaky white dusting onto them in frozen confetti.
You hear a huff and their breath condenses into a soft cloud before it disappears. What were they feeling: amusement at your audacity? Exasperation at your exuberant mischief? Or perhaps both?
Then— swifter than you were— they cup some of the innocent slow off the ground, and have their vengeance; and you— you receive a face full of a snowball that slides over your skin, your body warmth melting it to droplets. Your face glistens with your unceremonious defeat.
"Hey—!" You exclaim, also bending to grab a fistful of snow, and you did not intend to live this down silently. "You started this!”
summary. oh, to the gods, and to be reborn again from your rib.
notes. “nvuy do the corpse bride capitano fic” said about three people so i did it. is this actually corpse bride? no. do i care? also no. my halloween present that only certified freaks are allowed to read. capitano is geniunely not mentioned by his name or his status, so LOWKEY. you could read this as any male lead you want, i guess. but uh… it’s capitano. well. it’s supposed to be.
warnings. mentions of death. mentions of decay (but the khaenri’ah version of decay). capitano is literally a dead man walking. tangents about god and love. standard nvuy fic where everyone is miserable. angst if you squint.
“You used to love me for me, but I don’t even know what I am anymore.”
There’s a small huff of laughter as you bring your knees to your chest. You wonder how he would react to you after all these years. You surely look different, and rot has set its teeth into your skin, and it morphs into his least favourite colour.
You wonder briefly, if he would even remember you, was he to ever return. How childish.
You pick up a lone stick in the soil next to you and poke at the withered and abandoned white and yellow orchards surrounding the stone.
His grave sits idly, silent.
“I lost myself the day you died,” you admit. Your throat constricts for a moment and you struggle to breathe. “I had no idea what to do.” You lean against the tree stump, as you always do. “I still don’t.”
His name is etched from many many centuries ago. Not by you, no. You hadn’t even attended the funeral, and to this day, you regretted it. Regret was a terrible ache that never quelled nor strayed too far from your heart.
The flowers were dead now. You’d laid them here almost a hundred years ago. You hadn’t expected them to live, but the petals were now an ashy black, and the edges that used to be soft and rubbery were now crumbling like paper against your fingers. The petals fell to small pieces.
The land was withering. Of course, the flowers would rot as well.
“You’d hate what your home has become,” you tell him. “We’re all rotting. And it all hurts.” You grimace next, but almost playfully. “Everything is blue. You hate blue. You used to tell me it upset you.” You look down at your forearm, and the withering aches upon your skin. “Even I’m turning blue.” It’s more so black than it is blue, but whatever colour it may be, it scars and will never leave. It is your fate, as it is your people’s.
The forest is quiet.
His body was buried amongst his favourite orchard field, but those flowers are long gone now, and all that remains is the black and blue prickly grass that you sit in, and a stone with his name left in it. He is somewhere below the ground, his body long decayed and faded and given life to the soil that once grew the most beautiful greenery you’d ever seen.
Not even that remained.
“If you were alive, you’d… y’know…” You tilt your head. “You’d rot, too. And for that, I’m grateful you died with glory.” You stare out into the dead fields. “Though, I can’t help but be selfish. I think it would hurt less if you were here.”
And there it is.
You hum soundly. “Yeah… you made everything hurt less.”
There’s a ring in your palm. It’s small, just large enough to slot nicely around the swell of your fourth finger, but the rot has dug into your flesh just enough that it doesn’t fit anymore. Not the way it used to.
It’s beautiful, however. Silver with white and blue diamonds. He bestowed it to you one night, though it was significantly after his proposal. The proposal itself was… special. Not in a bad way — but in his way. He had been missing for several days after his army had been struck with an ambush. Only a few men had initially returned to seek refuge and aid from the city.
It was only two months later, after the city had mourned the soldiers’ losses, that they had returned. Bloodied, battered, beaten, but they had returned.
He’d spotted you that day when he’d ventured out alone to visit his favourite field of flowers. You were sitting amidst the orchards, because this was where he’d usually be.
And by your wishes, he returned.
“It’s you,” you heard him whisper.
You’d never heard a more beautiful sound.
You turned quickly and dropped the flower from your hands. The colour almost drained from your face before a newfound pleasantry blossomed across your cheeks. You smiled, and it’s the first time you’ve done so in months. “You’re alive.”
You took a hesitant step forward, as if unsure if his body would crumble to dust the moment you touched him.
You sobbed pathetically. You held his face, or what remained of it. “You’re here. I thought you–”
“I am here.”
You think it silly now, believing he was dead over and over again. Every time he departed he’d come after the expected arrival date, and even then you used to panic and flourish and do everything but accept he was really gone this time.
And now.
Now that he is gone, it only took you three-hundred and ninety-four years to accept it. The rest of those you were busy returning to his grave and retelling your day as if he was alive and listening.
The few people that were left on this side of the city pitied you. Even the grand old Mage had whispered that you’d better off leaving the dead to sleep soundly before he’d left for Snezhnaya. There was nothing you could have done to prevent this, or what occurred afterward.
You had asked the Mage, once, if necromancy was truly a thing possible.
“I am sure, even if it was, living dead is worse than living alive,” he had told you one day. “The past is finished.”
“Is it selfish to think this way?”
He looked down at you, and there was pity in his glance. “Very.” You eyed the ring still captured around your finger. “But, love is selfish. To want one person for yourself. It is indulgent.”
“I suppose,” you whispered. “But possession is beautiful.”
And it had been beautiful.
Just you and him.
It was hard to adapt. Still is, really. You forget him for days at a time, and then you remember, and then you return. You stop and stare at walls. You glance to where he would be standing if he was around; next to you, at the dinner table, on his side of the bed. You never truly made the bed your very own. It was his, once.
Just as your heart was — you weren’t able to develop the courage to move onwards with your life, so you were trapped within purgatory; swindled in a void of pure blue, like his eyes.
Because isn’t being someone’s everything so special?
Especially someone like him.
Someone so brave, and courteous, and gentle.
You never deserved that, really. So it makes sense why he disappeared just as quickly as he appeared in your life. Unfairness.
You look down at the ring again.
“You would be mine?” he asked one day, laying beside you in the field. “If I asked?”
You stared up at the sky. “I already am.”
That pulled a small puff of laughter from him, and he sat up. You followed shortly, facing him. “I have a ring. And a proposition.”
Oh. You looked down on what he was offering you.
“It is your burden to oblige, and it is your choice.” You couldn’t see his face clearly through his armour, but there was a flash of that awful treacherous blue he hated so much. “But, if you’ll have me, I will have you. In this life, you and I will be as one, and never apart again.”
“That is a bold claim to make,” you told him. “There is no guarantee you will not die soon.”
“To which I rephrase: even when I am gone and you still walk these plains, you will be mine, and I will be yours, and my love for you will blossom through the soil and bloom the flowers that you love so much.”
You laugh gently. Such a stupid man.
You want to crush the ring until it welds flat and unwearable.
Marriage is a privilege to the blessed, and you’re far from it. You receive no watchful eye from the Gods; they don’t care. They killed everyone you ever knew, and loved, and shared this miserable life with.
The jewel squeaks in its confines as you squeeze.
Such a stupid ring.
You breathe in shakily. Stupid, stupid fantasy. Stupid games. Stupid delusions and useless pining and all of this heartache was for nothing and–
How hard do you have to believe in love to love the same person for an eternity? How hard do you have to imagine a world where everything is perfect when what is foretold to be eternal dies with the soul and the flowers in the rot?
How long do man and Gods have to continue fighting each other before they realise it is futile? Gods are not kind, man even less so.
Beautiful rot and ruin.
That’s the world.
The crows that sing in the trees screech their awful song to mock you.
So, you drop the ring. You abandon it right where he had abandoned you in the soil. The silver rolls along the stone until it comes to a stop on the cracks.
And it sits.
You consider picking it back up.
You don’t.
Instead, you stand and turn to leave.
Fate is fickle, however.
If you had picked the ring back up, perhaps none of this would’ve happened.
The breeze hits hard behind you and it sends chills down your spine.
You glance up.
The crows are making awful noises again, and you grimace. Though the spindly trees are ugly, you find there’s nothing uglier than the sound of those birds.
He rather liked them.
You step away.
Something sharp scratches against your ankle and then twists, and you scream.
It’s a branch of some sort, and it moves and wriggles like a worm when you free your foot from its grasp. It twitches as if it has not moved in years, as if the bones inside of it were finally coming to life.
It retreats into the soil beside his grave.
Then, nothing.
Nothing moves.
The crows still and quiet, and you feel as though you can’t find the energy or courage to breathe. Your ankle is covered in soil and scratches, and you’re sure from how weak it stands when you try to apply weight to it that it’s twisted at best and completely sprained at worst.
The soil does not stir.
Until it does.
A hand pops a hole through the ground, and it is as still as the branch was, twitching and writhing and feeling through the open air for leverage.
A hand. A hand like yours—covered in rot and ruin, purple and blue, and the phalanges are swollen with wither and time.
You step back and bite your tongue. A wrist reveals itself next, consistent with blue and bruise, and it reaches until the bloodied terrible fingers squeeze the soil and begin to pull. The hand claws and claws and digs itself from the ground, fingernails dirtied and brown.
You want to scream.
Nobody would hear you all the way out here.
An elbow. It climbs and climbs, revealing more rot and decay. It writhes as if in pain, and you don’t doubt it so.
You swallow hard.
A shoulder. Sides of the neck reveal itself through the soil, caked in mud and wear and tear. It’s other arm tears free from the ground.
And then a face.
A face unidentifiable and ruined. Sullied with rot and bruise and wear and fade and filth. Two horrific blue lights of sort cast through the pain and the shadow that shrouds its face, and it only prompts you to step back even further.
To that, the creature leans forward as best it can to try and grab your ankle. It’s waist is stuck in the soil, and it tries to pull itself out, despite how weak it is.
“It’s you…” the creature whispers.
You can’t move. You don’t even blink. Your breathing only comes out in short pathetic bursts.
You’re not sure what it is, but rot has completely disfigured it beyond recognition. It’s sickening to look at. It’s worse than anything you could ever comprehend, and you imagine one day that you will appear the same.
It manages to free itself from the confines of the soil, though it cannot stand. It hasn’t done so in centuries, nd the feeling of moving limbs are foreign to it, being entrapped below the ground for so long.
It tries again to reach for you. It’s fingers brush just shy of your foot.
You swallow hard. “Who…” You feel as though you already know the answer.
There’s a single eye that you barely recognise. Deep blue like violet satin robes. Darker than the dead blue spruce. Darker than the sky, and lighter than the depths of the ocean where the sun could not reach.
You know him.
You bite your tongue.
Waves of black hair as deep as shadows drown you on both sides until the world has swallowed the two of you whole.
“I’m yours,” he reminds. “Correct?” He raises the ring you let go of.
It is him.
You fall to your knees in front of him despite the fear and nausea churning in your stomach. He almost leaps on top of you, but settles in front, hands reaching forward to rest on your legs. He has not felt the warmth of another person, or anything, for five-hundred years, and he only simply freezes at the feeling.
You furrow your brows and try to control your breathing. You try to push him off to sit up, but he does not budge.
“You kept my ring.”
Your fingers curl around what remains of his shoulders and he takes your hand.
“It is you,” you whisper. “How’re you–”
His old uniform he was buried in is caked in soil, and it’s covered you, as well. He does not bring himself off of the floor, but he leans back just enough to allow you to sit up. You feel you can’t turn to run just yet, and you’re not sure if you want to.
You can’t steady your breathing.
He cannot move his legs properly, and so while you freeze, he uses your corpse as leverage to climb further up and rest upon your shoulder. He is heavy, as heavy as a corpse is, but you find comfort in the weight, somewhere.
“You look so different,” he comments. Rotten fingers come forth to graze the same textured remainders of true flesh across your cheek. “What has this world done to you?”
“You died,” you say. His lips rest against your cheek and he hums. “I…”
“I abandoned you.”
“I grieved over you for five centuries,” you quickly finish. “You were alive this entire time in the ground?”
“I don’t know,” he answers. “I don’t think so. I feel as though time hasn’t moved at all. But it has.” He looks around, your face still in his hands. “This is the field.”
You nod briskly.
“Everything’s dead,” he comments.
“It has been,” you reply. “For years.” You look elsewhere. “Everyone’s dead.”
He holds you tight. “I left you in a world like this.” His hair is matted and disgusting, but you reach up and rest a hand on his crown. Guilt presses into his chest like a weight, and he wills himself to ignore it, despite how heavy it is.
He is a corpse. A corpse. Like you. Like everyone that remains in this place.
And he scares you.
Despite how tight he holds you, you fear him. You feel for a moment you are hallucinating; this can’t be real. Your husband cannot spring from the soil and restate his love. Not like this.
True death was incurable, and he had died many moons before the war in battle. He had sacrificed himself for victory and peace, only for it to end when the Archons set forth and destroyed your home. You still remember them, even if most of them were dead now. That Barbatos and Rex Lapis remained, despite everything, and you wanted them both dead in return. Dead and buried and never to return in the soil.
“This isn’t real,” you whisper.
“It is.”
“No,” you try. “You died. You cannot reverse death.”
“It is not reversed. I am still dead.” He wants to kiss you, but the fleeting warmth of your skin as you try to pull away and the soil and filth that rests upon his face shies you away with a flinch. “I can be yours again.” His fingers grace over the rot along your face.
“It doesn’t make sense.”
“I proposed that I would never part from you, and you I, even after death.” He holds the ring close to your face before he takes your hand. He rests it against your knuckles, perhaps admiring how the silver still shimmers against your skin. “It was a vow.”
A vow, he says. Your face scrunches up in frustration. “I never married you.”
“Marriage or not, the ring was a promise of my word, and you kept it all these years.”
He takes your fingers gently before he parts them and slots the ring where it belongs. It nestles gently close to your knuckle and you swallow. Your finger felt strange without the piece, and wearing it again after only minutes satiated that discomfort.
His face is… nothing you remember.
His eyes are barely the same as they were before, and you turn away when he draws close again with a shaky breath.
“Are you afraid of me?” He’d asked you that many years ago, many times.
Even now, you feel the same. “Should I be?” You look out towards the dead fields, and you feel something cold bump against your cheek.
His nose squishes against your skin when he kisses you close to your ear. “No.”
It is only then through a gentle whisper and his lips do you muster the courage to look at him. He is so different.
But, he’s still yours.
“Are you the same man you were five-hundred years ago?” you ask him.
He leans in as close as he can and his nose brushes against yours. His fingers lock tight around your hand and he squeezes; the silver ring imprints on your finger.
