#BLINK TWICE IF YOU ARE HACKED

[nkogneatho]

🎄🎄MERRY CHRISTMAS BITCHES🎄🎄!! Now that it’s finally DICKmas 👅💦Santa’s about to slide 🎅🏾😉 down your hot 🔥 hot 🔥chimney tonight. So lick 💦💋those juicy candy canes and drink up that creamy eggnog🍼, it’s about to get wet down at Santa’s workshop🍆🍆! Don’t forgot to slide down that XXXtra 🎅🏾🎅🏾 big North Pole, and make sure your 🍪 cookie 🍪is yummy enough for Santa to eat👄! 👀 But are you bad enough to handle Santa’s giant juicy 8=candy👊🏼COCK=D💦?? Send this to 🔟 of your baddest bitch elves💁🏼💁🏾 If you get 5️⃣ back, youre on the naughty list this year🍆💦! If you get 🔟 back you better be ready for Santa’s hot ♨️CUMlate☕️💦😭 If you get 2️⃣0️⃣ back you’ve got the most bitchin 🍬peppermint 🍬pussy in the North Pole! ❄️⛄ Hope you get to blow 🌬 lots of XXXmas 🎄dick, and that you get lots of XXXmas 🎄CUMMIES 💝💝 HAVE A SLUTTY 💦🍆👅DICKMAS YOU HOE HOE HOE!!! 🎅🏾🎅🏿🎅🏽🎅🏼

MAI WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS??😭

[poorsadorphanposting]

I didn't know she could DO that...

[fairsweetlonging]

truth serum / system reveal au where shen qingqiu gets hit with an uncloaking spell that reveals the system in the reflection of his eyes every time it pops up.

during one of his missions, in the treasure hoard of some dragon-like creature, he finds a golden, oval shaped hand mirror, its gaudy style more victorian based than anything (airplane you hack!), that doesn't seem to do anything when he looks into it. but when he does, it reveals the system's screen in his eyes.

he doesn't notice this, of course, because he can't see it, and the system, surprisingly, stays quiet.

the peak lords think he's cursed.

maybe mu qingfang is the first to notice, during the mandatory post mission check-up, when shen qingqiu is scrolling through his most recently accumulated points and mu qingfang can see the strange vividly-blue lines reflected in his pupils. it's gone when shen qingqiu blinks, like it was nothing but a trick of the light.

it comes out when yue qingyuan is visiting and, just as he's done laying out the plans for a new mission, shen qingqiu's eyes glaze over and a bright blue box takes over the whole of his iris. shen qingqiu goes quiet; the thing in his eyes moves, shifts, pulses for a second, like static worms crawling all over his pupils. then he blinks, and it's gone, and shen qingqiu accepts the mission that yue qingyuan was almost sure he would decline.

maybe there is an intervention, when the peak lords corner shen qingqiu at qian cao peak and try to figure out what's wrong, subjecting him to all kinds of treatments and curse-finding spells that turn up empty, they can't find anything.

of course, the silencing threat is still very much up and running. at first shen qingqiu was kind of confused by the whole ordeal, but when the peak lords start describing a "strange blue box", he realizes, with sickening suddenty, that they're describing the system. and he can't say anything.

this only makes everything worse, because their fellow peak lord now keeps evading every question and acts like he doesn't understand. liu qingge points right at his face and asks, "that blue box, what is it?" and shen qingqiu laughs nervously and starts talking about how bright the weather is and surely it's the sky and nothing to worry about!

even worse, during the intervention the system thought it was a good idea to start talking to him, so now even the peak lords who hadn't seen it and who might have been persuaded by light tricks and reflections, get a first row view that no, that definitely isn't a trick of the light.

they try to do the whole thing of "are you in danger, blink twice" but shen qingqiu can't even do that because it's still a direct admittance!

maybe eventually he starts saying vague confirmations that don't actually confirm anything, like "this master hears what you're saying", or maybe he goes with a classic "this master can neither confirm nor deny that." but the system starts warning him for that too and eventually he stops saying anything, which worries the others more.

luckily mu qingfang catches on that every time they ask a direct question about the box or shen qingqiu says anything vaguely confirming, it appears. it doesn't appear when they ask about curses or demons, so it must not see that as a threat.

for a little extra angst: maybe the peak lords keep pressuring him for answers, and at some point shen qingqiu gets fed up and snaps out something like, "why don't you understand that i'm not allowed to answer that!" the system counts this as a direct admittance, threatening it's existence. so it punishes. shen qingqiu has a qi deviation so bad it lasts two weeks and takes two people every day to cleanse his meridians. the system doesn't appear in that time. it doesn't appear for a long while after that, either. the peak lords stop asking, mainly because shen qingqiu will instantly leave the room if they do. they don't stop searching for a cure, though.

shang qinghua returns from a business trip and catches on the second someone mentions a blue box and forced silencing.

[lcriedlastnight]

Can you write something with Oscar based on this post

https://www.tumblr.com/girlonabreak/744982039484366848/may-i-offer-you-something-water-food-my

i’ll try my best anon! thank you very much for your request, i hope you like it!

tw: fem!reader, swears, lmk if you want anything added.

w/c: 2.3k

oscar was a little nervous to have you over. the relationship was fairly fresh and this would be the first time you would be at his place. he’d spent the week prior cleaning every single nook and cranny he could find, then going on tiktok and finding out how to clean the ones he didn’t even know existed. not that you would be inspecting the space behind his fridge for it’s cleanliness.

three days before, when he’d gone shopping, he texted you asking if you liked this specific brand of chocolate and if you would like some for when you stayed over at the weekend.

oscar had gotten more blankets, pillows and even got you a new teddy bear, scared that you would forget the one you couldn’t sleep without. he was determined that you were having a good nights sleep with him. you had slept together before, but not properly. those had only been you falling asleep during a film after a date or oscar coming over to yours the day after the race weekend and feeling so jet lagged he fell asleep on your couch two minutes after you started carding your fingers through his hair.

you had always made him feel so welcome at yours so he was desperate to make you feel the same. even though this was a bit different than those times he was at yours.

oscar pottered around fixing things that didn’t really need fixing at all. he triple checked the fridge incase all the food inside had gone missing. then he checked his bank account to make sure he still had his money and he hadn’t been hacked, just incase you wanted to order in or even go to the shops.

a soft knock at his door shoves oscar out of his thoughts, he runs to the door to answer. you were on the other side, weekend bag in hand. you had little to no makeup on and your hair was thrown up not too messily. oscar then thought about if you would want to shower and how he only had manly products. how could he forget to buy you shower stuff?

“osc?” you ask as you stand in the doorway. oscar blinks once, twice, then is scrambling to take your bag off you.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry. i don’t know where i was there. you look gorgeous. come in.” he says as he spins around and stands to the side to let you walk inside first.

you slowly walk inside and the first thing you notice is the amount of candles he has lit. it give the living room the most homely feel.

“your place is lovely, osc. it’s so cozy.” you tell him turning around from looking at the kitchen to face him. oscar grins at your words.

“thank you, pretty. you want me to put your bag in the room?” oscar asks, feeling a lot less high strung now that you were actually here in front of him. that usually did help calm him down.

you nod. oscar tries his best not to leave you standing all by yourself in the living room for too long. he basically sprints to his room and back. a blink and you didn’t even know he was gone, type of situation.

you’re not standing in the living room when he comes back thought. you’re sitting on the couch. you look like you belong there. it sends a wave of affection to oscar’s heart.

“you want to watch a film?” you ask him from the couch. you already had the remote in your hands.

“‘course, what kind are you feeling?” oscar asks, heading to the cupboard in the hallway to get the massive blanket he’d bought at the shops a few days earlier.

“dunno.” is your reply. oscar can tell you have a film in mind but you may be a little embarrassed to ask to watch it. as he comes to sit down beside you, he throws the blanket over the top of you and it almost suffocates you. instead of commenting on it you just get comfy. oscar rakes his brain for previous conversations about films to find the one you could watch everyday and not get tired of. as he remembers he snatches the remote off of you to bring it up. you don’t say anything but you watch on skeptically.

“this one seem okay? i’ve never seen it before but i heard you like it.” oscar says, a cocky smirk on his face as he sees the look on yours after you realise the film. you grin.

“yeah i supposed we could stick this one on and give it a go.” you pretend like you couldn’t quote the dialogue in your sleep. oscar pressed play on the film and instantly feels the need to be touching you. you had chosen to sit in the corner of oscar’s L shaped couch, an incredibly you thing to do, oscar thought. but because of where you decided to sit oscar was unsure how to go about touching you. he gives up trying to think of ways to get you in his lap.

“come sit in my lap.”

you turn your head from the tv, the opening credits rolling in the screen. “okay.” you reply, shuffling to follow his request.

it ended up that oscar was laying in the corner of the couch and faced the tv. you were sitting to his side with your legs slung over his, shoulders brushing against each other with every breathe. oscar holds one of your hands underneath the massive blanket, the other traces his name on your ankle - just above your socks.

a quarter of the way through, you shuffled around to get comfortable again, your head ended up resting on his bicep as you had moved down a little more. oscar had to hold back the coo that threatened to escape him as he felt your check squash up against his skin. oscar throws his focus back on the tv, as hard as it is he wants to know the film you love so much.

at the end of the first act, oscar moves his attention back to you, he wonders if you’re hungry but are just too scared to ask. or if you were waiting on him to offer you something. were you tired and just wanted to move to bed right now? it wasn’t that late surely. what if you actually did want to go for that shower right now? would he have enough time to go buy some flowery shampoo and body wash so you wouldn’t end up smelling like him?

“can i get you anything to eat?” oscar asks, thumb rubbing over your ankle bone. he wonders if this is the ankle you broke when you were five, or if it was the other one.

“are you hungry?” you ask oscar, head turning to look up at him. the aussie almost melts at your expression. “i am if you are.” you say to him.

this confuses oscar but he decides that eating wouldn’t hurt. he doesn’t care if you don’t eat it all.

“you want to order in or just make something here?” he asks again. it makes him feel bad making you choose but he wants to make sure you’re completely comfortable with him tonight. the time when he can just know what you want and do it for you was right around the corner and he couldn’t wait for it.

“order in.” you say after a few moments of silence. “don’t want to move from here until bed.” you explain. although oscar didn’t think you needed to explain, he thought it was cute. he thought the same thing anyway, not having felt this content in months.

“fine by me. i’ll order it and it should be here soon.”

your film finishes and you and oscar finish the food. you talk a little at the end of the film, asking him about how lando and zak were doing and how strong the car was. don’t get oscar wrong, as much as he loved his job and the fact that you took so much interest in what he did, he just wanted a day where he could sit with you and hypothesise whether or not spider-man was too young to be spidering across the city. instead of telling you this he changed the topic, comfortably so you don’t notice.

“it’s getting late. are you getting tired, pretty?” he asks. he can see the way your shoulders are a little more slumped as you sit in front of him, the film behind you having ended and instead playing a trailer for some unrelated tv series. you nod to answer his question. “a little, yeah.”

“c’mon then. bedtime for us.” oscar says picking you up by your waist and flinging you over his shoulder. he carries you to the bathroom where he sits you on the counter. you are laughing all the way there. oscar’s already thinking about which ring would suit you more. he goes in the cabinet underneath the sink and grabs a pack of two toothbrushes. one pink, one blue. it’s so domestic, oscar nearly burst when he seen them in the shops and thought of giving the pink one to you.

“i know you brought a bag full of stuff and you probably have a toothbrush with you but i thought you could keep this one here and i could maybe clear out a drawer for you in my bedroom for you to keep things here so you don’t have to go back and forth for clothes.” oscar rambles as he puts toothpaste on both brushes and hands yours to you. it’s like oscar keeps forgetting that this is the first time you’re sleeping over, mind already thinking about the next time, and the next and the next.

oscar shoves his brush in his mouth to stop his mouth. you laugh at him. “i would like that. thank you osc.” you say before copying him and brushing your teeth. oscar watches like you were doing something really interesting, his eyes darting over your face. tonight he learns another new thing about you, you’re a really messy brusher. toothpaste slipping down your chin as you brush. he has to hold back the laugh that longs to escape him, not wanting to cover you in more toothpaste than you already have all over you.

oscar spits into the sink then quickly rinses his mouth with mouthwash, then spitting that out too. you follow his actions, hopping down from the counter to spit into the sink, standing in front of oscar. before you can rinse your mouth out with mouthwash though, oscar turns your face to his with a gentle hand.

“you got a little something..” you smile at his words. oscar belonged in a romcom for sure. the boy’s thumb coming out to brush away the leftover toothpaste on your chin. you smile at him in thanks but your smile falls as he wipes it on the shoulder of your t-shirt.

“oscar! why would you do that! what’s wrong with you!?” you squeal. oscar laughs hard, his head thrown back in joy. you’re not really mad, the smile on your face hard to miss. it’s hard to be angry at the boy in front of you who literally looks like the human version of the sun.

once you’ve finished in the bathroom - oscar yapping away as you take your makeup off and done your skincare at the sink - he pulls you to his bed.

“you want to change in here or do you want me to go to the bathroom?” oscar asks, throwing you the t-shirt he’s just washed (and maybe sprayed with his cologne before you came over). you catch it before hesitating with your answer. oscar answers for you.

“why don’t you get changed in the bathroom and i can get a big reveal, seeing you with my t-shirt on?” oscar asks, giddy at his own idea. you nod, if only just to please him, although you do like his idea, thinking it’s cute he wants that.

you’re quick to get changed, your hair taken out of the ponytail to hand down, it will probably get in your face tonight. you hurry out the bathroom to find oscar sitting on top of the bed in his own pyjamas. oscar’s eyes light up at the sight of you.

“jesus christ, pretty girl. you’re going to kill me.” he says standing up, arms outstretched like he would die if he didn’t touch you in the next ten seconds. you happily fall into his embrace. face against his chest. oscar’s nose in your hair.

“you smell like you and me.” oscar smiles as he pull away from the hug and pulls you into bed instead. you laugh at his discovery. “as long as i smell good.” you tell him.

after a quick okay fight over who was getting what side of the bed, you are both cuddled up to each other. it most definitely won’t stay like this all night because what oscar doesn’t know yet is you move a lot in your sleep. he’ll find that out in the morning, but for now he’s happy to have you right where he wants you. oscar is big spoon as his arms are wrapped around you, big hands under your top and on your warm, soft skin. leg over your hip, keeping you trapped under him, not that you would ever complain about that.

the teddy bear oscar had gotten you incase you forgot yours was laying at the bottom of the bed, while you clutch yours to your chest. one of your hands ghosting over oscar’s on your stomach.

the tv is on, playing some sitcom you’d asked for. oscar never usually sleeps with the tv on but for you? he would sleep on a bed of nails if it made you comfortable.

“g’night, pretty baby.” oscar mumbles into your hair, not bothering that it was in his face. you mumble something of the sort back, he knew you were basically asleep. ‘this is my future.’ oscar thought to himself before he fell asleep.

[bruisedboys]

can I request eddie and shy!reader with reader’s first kiss?! I imagine he’d be so gentle with her!

I want him to be my first kiss so bad!! waiting for him to be real so he can kiss me tbh

summary: eddie gives shy!you your first kiss

shy!fem!reader 0.9k words

Eddie thinks you look really pretty.

He’d tell you so but he’s already told you twice tonight, and he’s pretty sure if he says it again you’ll burst into flames on the spot. You’re quite shy — it’s endearing and very adorable but it also means Eddie has to be more careful of what he says and does. He wouldn’t want to scare you off.

He watches you pore over a book, sitting cross-legged on his bed. He badly wants to tell you how lovely you look. In a t-shirt that’s too big for you and a pair of sweatpants. Your hair all messy pretty and tucked behind your ears. He holds his tongue, turning back to the old band tee he’s hacking the sleeves off on his bedroom floor.

“Eddie?”

Your voice breaks the comfortable silence you and Eddie had been sitting in. Eddie puts down his scissors and looks up. He likes the way you’ve said his name, like he’s the only person ever. He’s sure he sounds similar when he says your name. He smiles at you.

“Yeah?”

You shuffle forwards on his bed, sliding to the edge until your legs dangle off. Eddie’s struck, yet again, by how beautiful you are. It takes all the breath out of his chest.

“Um.” You pause then, and get this nervous look on your face. Eddie knows it well. You’re often nervous around him.

He sits up straighter. By the looks of it you’re wanting to tell him something. Or ask him something. “Yeah, honey?”

Your eyes flick to Eddie and then back to your hands where they’re twisted in your lap. Eddie sees the tap tap tap of your foot, the wringing of your hands. He shuffles forward on the floor and gets a hand on your knee, fingers curling around the bottom of your thigh.

“What is it?” He asks softly.

When you answer your staring at your lap, determined to avoid Eddie’s eyes.

“Well … I just. I was reading that part in The Princess Bride, the bit about the five kisses? And I just wondering …” You reach up and scrub the back of your neck awkwardly. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?”

Eddie balks. He was not expecting that. It’s a big question — for you to ask and for Eddie to answer. He has his own reasons. The biggest one being he’s afraid to scare you off, to mess up maybe the best thing in his life right now. Not only that, but he knows how tentative you are about relationship stuff. It’s all new to you.

The silence stretches too long. Eddie rushes to break it before you think he’s gone and backed out on you.

“Oh.” He says, more flustered than he’s ever been with you. Normally you’re the flustered one. He’s realising now how hard it is being on the receiving end. “Well, um. I … I guess—“

“Do you not want to?” You ask quietly, interrupting Eddie’s rambling.

Eddie stops short. “What?” He stares up at you. He can hardly believe you think that. Of course he wants to kiss you — he’d kind of thought you wouldn’t want him to. “No. No, sweetheart, that’s not it. I just. Well, I just wanted to wait until you were ready … “ He pauses, catches the look on your face, like you’re waiting for something to happen. “Are you ready?”

You bite your lip. Not for the first time, Eddie wonders what it would be like to kiss your lips. You nod very slowly.

“I think so,” you say. You’re staring at his mouth now.

Eddie nods so quick he almost snaps his neck. He hardly cares.

“Okay,” he says earnestly. He scrambles to his feet and then moves to stand in front of you, your knees pressing into his legs.

You blink up at him. Eddie can’t resist taking your face in his hands. Your skin is hot to touch. He imagines his face would feel the same.

“You’re really pretty,” he says despite himself. Even though he’d promised not to tell you again until at least tomorrow.

“Eddie,” you chide softly.

Eddie just grins. “Are you sure you want to?” He asks you, struggling to hear himself over the thump of his heart in his ears. He very much wants to give you a Princess Bride worthy kiss right now.

You nod around his hands. “I’m sure,” you say.

Eddie leans in then. His hands on your face, pulling you gently towards him. His eyelids fluttering shut. It feels different but it feels right. He’s about half a second away from kissing you when you say,

“Wait.”

Eddie opens his eyes. You’re so close he could count your eyelashes.

“What?” He whispers back.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” you say. Your breath fans over Eddie’s mouth, your lips ghosting over his. It takes all his might not to kiss you right then and there. “I don’t know how,” you admit.

“That’s okay,” Eddie tells you. It is okay. And he’s maybe a lot more honoured than he should be that he’s gonna be your first kiss. “You’ll learn.”

“You’ll teach me?”

Eddie looks at you and thinks yeah, he’ll teach you. He’ll do literally anything you could ever ask of him. “Of course, angel.”

“Okay,” you say. You smile and Eddie thinks if he doesn’t kiss you now he might pass out.

He kisses you. He doesn’t pass out but he comes pretty close.

-

[heartfullofleeches]

[Request] Reader caring for a sick Remmy [Dollmaker Yan Oc]

Warnings: None.

Words: 1.1k

-

“Remmy isn't home right now…. Please come back later.”

Could this day get any worse?... Weeks, months even, building up the courage to ask you to hang out with him. It wasn't like he asked you out on a date or anything, not yet anyway. He still needed to test the water a little longer, make sure the signals he had picked up from you weren't figments of his imagination. All that time, all those embarrassing hours spent in front of the mirror practicing what to say given any outcome - flushed down the drain in one night. 

Remmy could hardly open his eyes the morning you were intended to meet. You didn't even recognize him over the phone at first. In his heightened state of delirium from the fever racking his weary mind, he hoped the same would happen as you continuously rang his doorbell - demanding in the softest voice you could manage for him to open up.

As if he could be that lucky….

“And where, pray tell, would someone hacking up a lung over the phonean hour ago be right besides the hospital? It's not that far away. I can head over right now and check.” 

….

“Open this door right now, Remiel. You're not going to flake on me twice today.”

Did you have to phrase it like that? Kicking a sick person while he could barely stand was cruel - even if you did come to check up on him. 

“O…okay…. Remmy is- I'm going to unlock the door, just…give me a minute to clean up my room. I have some stuff out I really don't want anyone to see…”

The muffled shuffling of plastic splices between the click of the lock as Remmy unlocks the front door. 

“60.”

“Crap.” 

Hobbling away from the front door, Remmy clings to the hallway walls as he makes a break for his bedroom. The straight path twists and bends as his stress levels skyrocket from the very real fear of you finding out what he had stored. There wasn't enough time for him to hide everything. His top priority were the worst offenders - items he couldn't excuse as being a result of his relatively harmless hobby. Doll clothing fashioned after clothes you'd yet to wear for the public eye. Others you never owned and probably would never wear, unless they were for a partner or to make yourself feel good. Pictures of you hung up on his walls. So much to bury in such little time. 

“They can't see that…That one either. God, they'd kill me if they saw-”

“Saw what?” 

A hoarse yelp claws its way out of Remmy's aching throat. Standing in his doorway, you balance two separate bags in your arms - awaiting his response. Remmy hurriedly pulls the corners of his blankets over the space beneath his bed. 

“I…threw up a bit ago. Guess I'm feeling worse than I thought when we spoke over the phone.” 

In the blink of an eye you're by his side. Remmy flinches as you press the back of your palm against his forehead.

“Oh, Rem….” Concern oozes from your words as you set your bags down, taking hold of his arm. You're burning up. Come on. Let's get you back in bed.”

“You don't have to go through all this for me, Y/n. Really, I'm-” His sentence falls short as you scoop him off the floor, sitting him up on his bed. Were you always this strong - or had he always been this easy to carry? In that moment, Remmy felt just like one of his dolls. His head spins at the very thought. You take the opportunity to gently ease him down against the mattress, rolling the discarded sheets up to his waist. You pick up the plastic bags, setting them on the small table in the center of his room as you rummage through them.

“Got some chicken soup from this dinner down the street. If you can't keep anything down, maybe the broth will be a good place to state. Oh!- picked up some ginger ale too. That might help with your stomach too. Cough drops, cough medicine…. Do you prefer liquid or pills?” 

Remmy turns his head away from you as he coughs into his fist. “...whichever…whichever you brought is fine.”

“Well,I actually bought both, but I can just return the other on my way home later. I'll go grab you a cup real quick.”

Heading for the door, Remmy’s meek voice calls out to you - barely about a whisper. “Y/n?”

Hand on the doorframe, you gaze over your shoulder at him. “What's up? Need something else while I'm in the kitchen?”

“No…” Remmy shakes his head, the pressure of a headache hammering at his skull. “Agh… Remmy… I just wanted to thank you…for this. You really didn't have to come over…” 

A smirk tugs at the corners of your lips. “Don't think I did this for nothing. Gotta make sure you're well enough for our date next weekend. The park is nice and all, but that's where we always go. I expect to be taken somewhere else for our first date.”

“Date?” He couldn't have heard you right. But, you said it - twice. You disappear down the hall before he can properly question you. Was this all a dream? The conjurings of his ill mind as the sickness took hold? This felt better than anything he could imagine- Your hushed voice as you reenter the room confirms it. You wiggle your arm behind his head, helping him sit back up just enough to place the cup to his lips without him choking while swallowing. A part of him wished this was a dream. One that he'd never wake up from if he had the choice. Another dream come true was waiting for him once he got better.

“Remmy?...Rem?”

Soda spills onto your hand as the weight of his head crashes upon your shoulder. Did he…. fall asleep? Just like that? You hadn't even given him his medicine yet. At least the sleep will be good for him. You should probably go put everything else you brought up to pass the time until he wakes up. 

“Mmm…”

Remmy’s face scrunches in discomfort as you part from his side, lowering his head onto the pillows as you stand. Your foot touches something soft beneath his bed. You reach a hand underneath - completely forgetting about his earlier warnings as your fingers wrap around the squishy item. A doll with instantly identifying features stares back up at you as you drag it from its prison. Funny - you don't remember wearing this shirt around Remmy. You only bought it a few days ago. You planned to wear it today before he told you the bad news.

Shrugging, you raise Remmy's arm - tucking the doll against his chest. His face melts into that of peaceful bliss, body curling around the doll as his other hand strokes its face as if on auto-pilot. You press a kiss to his forehead - shutting off the lights in his room as you depart for a second time.

[arctrooper69]

As Iron Sharpens Iron

"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17

Chapter 14:

Previous // Next

Warnings: Canon violence

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

The trip back to your small shuttle seemed to take twice as long.

“... yeah the shuttle’s still there…”

The subtle echo of voices and gear drifted across the rocky terrain and you froze. For a moment it disappeared and you’d almost convinced yourself that once again this moon was playing tricks on you.

A haggard, hacking cough sounded from around the corner where piles of slag leaned and stacked over each other creating some sort of natural shelter beside the mouth of yet another cavernous mineshaft.

You dove behind a large boulder. Kriff. Cid had said the planet was uninhabited.

Is someone else after the jewels too?

Cid hadn't mentioned that either. You were going to have a serious talk with her when you got back.

If I even make it back in one piece. You rubbed your aching shoulder. From the way this mission was going, you weren't sure just how intact you'd be.

This place is a death trap. At least I have the jewels. Hard part’s over.

The roving light of a headlamp flickered against the rocks before blinking out.

“Karabast!” came a growling curse, “Those kriffing rocks better be worth as much as you say they are, woman!”

“Relax, Nakan.” a female voice snapped, sounding exasperated. “You’ll get your money.”

Two other voices squabled further away.

“Enj! Rico! Get your asses over here!” the female shouted. She sounded human, or at least humanoid.

Crawling slowly, you peered through the cracks of the boulder, to get a better look.

A human woman paced the ground and a large Nikto crouched a few feet from the edge of a mineshaft beneath the craggy overhang of shale. Nakan, the woman had called him.

The ones she’d called Enj and Rico were Weequay - male and female. The female spat on the ground. “We’re wasting our time out here, Boss. There’s nothing here.”

“There will be!” The human crossed her arms, “You just have to trust me!”

The male Weequay said something that you couldn’t quite hear and she nodded. The Nikto got to his feet and followed the others as they continued to search for a different mine.

The voices faded off into the distance, but you waited a little longer before coming out of hiding.

Dust floated through the air, forcing itself deep into your lungs and you choked. Eyes watering, you instinctively reached, pulling the fabric of your shirt to cover your mouth and nose.

Even the air is getting worse. It burnt your lungs. Almost there.

A brief flash of alarmed confusion was the only warning before you found yourself violently acquainted with the ground once again, head forced into the dirt and arms wrenched painfully behind your back, drawing a pained squeal as air was forced from your lungs.

“Hey, boss! Look what I found!” Scaled hands dragged you to your feet, maintaining the iron grip that trapped your arms painfully behind you.

“Get off, asshole!” You spit dirt from your mouth, throwing your shoulders forward to try and yank yourself free.

A sudden click and your jaw snapped shut. The hot dedlanite barrel of a blaster burned into the skin of your forehead. Muscles stiffened as the woman from before brought the blaster down your face, resting it just below your chin, forcing it up so that she could see your face.

“Just when I thought my luck had run out!” she chuckled, “You look like shit and you know what that tells me?”

You glared.

She continued anyway, “That tells me that you’ve been spelunking around here. You find any shiny rocks?”

Any fear left in your worn out mind hardened to a spiteful anger.

Get your own shiny rocks, bitch. These are mine.

Despite the dryness of the air or how your lips cracked and screamed for relief, you spat. “Kriff off!”

Pain exploded from your cheekbone, radiating down your neck as she whipped the blaster without warning.

She slowly wiped the spit from her cheek. “Fine. We’ll do this your way then.”

She turned to one of the Weequays. “Search her. Take what you want then get rid of her.”

The Nikto merely grunted as you kicked your foot back, struggling to gain some semblance of control as he pulled already screaming shoulders ever tighter, binding your hands behind your back.

Nausea flooded passages already inhabited with the adrenaline fueled struggle. It made you dizzy.

A hand jerked the pouch from your belt, renewing the fight to aching muscles. You threw back your head, connecting with the face of the Weequay who’d stolen the stones from your belt. He cursed, dropping the stones, hands flying instinctively to his broken nose.

You reached desperately for the bag of jewels, fingers just barely brushing the fabric.

If I can’t have them, then you definitely can’t.

Another tremor rattled the ground and you watched with numb satisfaction as the small bag tumbled from the ledge into the abyss below.

The woman slammed your head into the ground once more and your vision went white.

“Go in there and get those damn stones!” she snapped over her shoulder, “I’ll take care of her myself!”

The ground began to rumble. A larger quake this time. Stones and dust were violently tossed into the air.

“Shit, just go! Get out!”

Everything was silent then, so slow that it felt as if you were floating - propelled from the edge not by a boot, but by a gentle wind.

***

The Marauder lay so peaceful after that mission.

The memory came to you suddenly as if you’d slipped into a dream, mind desperately grasping to cushion a cruel reality as you tumbled down into the dark.

Omega and Wrecker were laughing because a stray piece of Mantell Mix had landed directly in Tech’s unruly curls and stayed there unmoving. Tech had moved on into the cockpit, yet still that sticky sweet stayed put. It was only when Hunter could no longer keep the grin from his lips nor the laughter from his eyes, that he’d noticed.

That’s the part that played like a holofilm over and over again. The subtly raised eyebrow at Omega’s joyfully hidden giggles. That spark of laughter in eyes that had been serious for too long. The muscles that rippled along his neck and jaw as he held back laughter that soon broke loose and the way he breathed so easily again - momentarily free from the weight of an ever changing galaxy. He was happy.

Oh, what you would do to give him that once more.

I’m sorry, Hunter.

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

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[somber-sapphic]

hi it was me who sent in the request it was a emily x reader and the prompt was i am not sick i think , it was the reader who is sick thank you 🫶

A Call For Rest

〖Summary: After an exhausting week Emily convinces you to go home and rest.〗

〖Word Count: 900〗

〖Pairing: Emily x sick R〗

〖Notes: I'm so glad that reached you! And so so sorry about my accidental deletion, I truly don't know what happened there. I sincerely hope this makes up for it <3〗

“Hey love,” Emily murmured, appearing in the doorway as if she’d teleported there. You hadn’t heard her walk up, though you couldn't hear much through your clogged ears. You set your pen down and wiped your nose on your sleeve, too tired to care about how gross it was. The world was sort of hazy, your mind cloudy. 

Writing up case reports was probably not the best idea considering your current mental state but you remembered enough to feel confident that you could go over notes with JJ to get the full story. 

The media liaison would likely be okay if you just dropped the papers on her desk, she had already checked in on you twice and tried to force you to take some medicine. When you refused she’d settled for leaving a cup of tea on your desk. You drank a little bit but forgot and let it get cold, cold tea wasn’t appetizing. 

“Hi Em.” You croaked, the words grating across your throat. Swallowing was already painful enough but talking seemed impossible. Emily walked into your office and leaned against the side of your desk, looking down at the papers that you were scribbling on. She frowned at the illegible writing, trying to make out even the simplest words. You typically had great penmanship, rivaling even Hotch’s, but this was bad.

“Is it safe to assume you aren’t feeling very well?” She put a hand on your shoulder and squeezed gently, concerned that she could feel the heat through your shit. It was a light shirt, but still, she shouldn’t be able to feel your fever through a layer of fabric. 

“I’m fine, just tired. Long week.” You were trying to use as few words as possible while still speaking somewhat normally but with the way your voice sounded, it didn’t matter. Nothing could save you from the reality that you weren’t going to win this fight. The last thing you wanted to do was leave work unfinished to pile up, but Emily didn't look like she was letting you get away that easily.

“Hmm, long weeks don’t usually make me sound like I gargled knives for fun. And you feel pretty warm. And your nose is running.” If she kept listing off things you were doomed. You wiped your nose on your sleeve again and sniffled, not removing your eyes from the papers. It was getting harder and harder to focus, everything was so blurry, and your head felt so groggy. 

“I‘m not sick.” You protested, swiping a hand across your eyes in a useless attempt to clear your vision. You refused to accept that you were just lightheaded and no amount of blinking or rubbing your eyes could fix that. Emily sighed and laid her palm on your forehead, making a face at what she felt. 

“I think your fever would beg to differ. You aren’t getting much done here anyway. I can’t read any of that.” She gestured to your sloppily written paperwork, not bothering to sugarcoat it. She’d had enough experience trying to reason with you that she knew you responded better to directness than to dancing around a subject.

You frowned down at your desk and coughed into your fist, your lungs protesting the extra effort they were being forced to use. Emily put a steadying hand on your back, providing support as you choked on whatever your body decided it needed to hack up. 

 When you were finally finished you looked up at her to find dark brown eyes staring back, filled with concern. 

 “Please, you need to rest. You’re so pale, you look like a ghost. I don’t want you to pass out here.” She caressed your cheek, leaving her palm there as an extra show of her love for you. She wasn’t always the best at offering comfort, she had trouble figuring out how to, but this she could handle. There was an easy fix to being sick and she was more than willing to take care of you through it. 

 “What about-” 

 “I’ll take care of it. Let Emily take you home, I’ve seen corpses that look more alive than you.” JJ’s voice startled you, making you jump a little in your seat. God everyone was just popping up out of nowhere, maybe you were worse off than you thought. Emily smiled at the media liaison and wrapped an arm around your shoulders in a loose hug. 

 “Come on love. Let’s go home. I’ll help you walk.” 

 “I don’t need help walking.” You protested as she lifted you from your chair, proving that you not only needed help walking but you couldn't stand on your own. After taking a few wobbly steps under the concerned gaze of JJ, Emily picked you up deciding that it would be the easiest way to get you to the car in a timely manner. 

 You whined but settled into her arms, relieved by the warmth of her touch. She was warm and soft and strong enough to carry you easily. You pressed your face into the crook of her neck and closed your eyes to protect against the harsh light of the bullpen. 

 “Feel better hun,” JJ said softly, squeezing your arm on your way out. You tried to nod but your head was too heavy. You were practically asleep by the time Emily reached the parking lot, but you didn’t mind. Though you would never admit it you were eternally glad that Emily had shown up when she did, any longer and you were confident you would’ve fallen asleep at your desk. 

[inazuman]

tools of destiny

☁  blade x f!reader s.mut, honkai: star rail ☁  reader is afab. yandere, dubcon, kidnapping, blade calls reader some derogatory language but there's praise too, bondage (belt), whipping, breeding, oral sex (f receiving), cumplay, stockholm syndrome ☁  A/N: basically it's yandere dubcon kidnapper blade with reader who tries to fight back only to give in to the pleasure. also cherubimbunny gave me this fic idea hehe ily mwah ☁ 6k words ☁ @trailblazernet

Blade’s loyalty to the Stellaron Hunters, to Destiny’s Slave, knows no bounds.

Let me out! Please!

He follows every order with little question, giving Elio his complete faith.

I-I haven’t done anything bad, I swear!

He abandoned his body to become a weapon. He has murdered, deceived, and taken from others in the name of destiny.

Where am I? Where are you taking me?

His actions with you are no exception.

“Please. Please let me go. What do you want from me?!”

You speak as soon as you hear the door open, your blindfold seeped with tears that streak down your cheeks. The person says nothing, and the door clicks close. Heavy footsteps track towards you, warm hands untying the cloth from around your head even as you try to shuffle back on the floor, their expensive-smelling cologne filling the air.

You blink once, twice, looking around you. You’re in a… a bedroom? Your breath is taken by the luxury surrounding you, a full king size bed on high stilts sits right behind you.

You stare at the man that captured you, and he can’t help but stare back at your eyes, the way they’re full of anger and hurt.

“What did you bring me here for? I haven’t done anything wrong, haven’t hurt anyone. Why am I here?”

He simply observes you, the way you move from demure to strong to pitiful, as if one of those will finally grant you an answer from him.

After a beat of silence, two, he finally speaks.

“I won’t lie to you. You are a prisoner here.” He keeps his head tilted down, but you swear you think he almost looks pleased witha slight smile on his face. “But we mean you no discomfort, for the most part. If you choose, you can live comfortably. We will take care of you, feed you well, give you anything you’d like to keep you entertained. You may even want to join our side. Or,” he shifts his weight off the wall, taking one step forward, and you immediately feel fear enrapture you, like the walls are closing in around you. You shuffle back, retreating until your shoulders hit the footboard of the bed.

Like a hunted rabbit, he can’t help but think. Something about a scared, pretty girl has him running his thumb against his jaw, though there’d be time for that later.

“Or,” he continues, “you can make this difficult. You can try to escape, but you won’t be able to. And I will tie you up, break your legs, whatever is necessary to ensure the arrival of the destiny that Elio chooses.”

“Destiny?! What destiny could I be involved in?”

With a flick of his wrist, his sword materializes in his hand. You immediately regret your tone. The bed shifts behind you as you press your back against it, but faster than you can blink, the edge of the sword slices against your ties from the side. You roll your wrists free, the chafing evident on your skin.

He doesn’t care to answer, pressing a button on the wall, door sliding open, but he hesitates. He turns his jaw back to you, as if lost in thought and eyeing you up all at once.

“A destiny greater than both you and I,” the words are voiced carefully, like a prophecy, but the moment is gone in an instant. “Rest up, girl. Know that even if you make it off this floor, there is nowhere to run. We are in the Stellaron Hunters’ headquarters, in the middle of space.”

He leaves swiftly, and you make a note of the way two different locks sound as the door shuts – one mechanical, one electronic.

You look around to find that the man is correct. There is a table with a screen that acts as both a vanity and a computer, expertly hacked so that you can play games and watch shows, but can’t communicate with the outside world. The bathroom is just as hauntingly beautiful, with both a bathtub and a shower, even the sink counter is littered with various, unopened products.

All the added ways that they’ve evidently made the bedroom as comfortable as possible have ironically made the situation all the more fearful. How long do they plan to keep you here? What do they need from you? What does your comfort matter to them? 

But you’re exhausted. You only manage to shower and brush your teeth before crashing on the bed.

-

It’s unfortunate that it’s Blade’s job to care about your comfortability, but in Elio’s words, ‘the less resistance she has to you, the better’.

He takes the painstaking, daily task of bringing you your three meals at set times, leaving them on your desk like some kind of butler or room service (that’s his limit. Someone else can take them out when you’re done). All so you can get used to him, his presence, grow some sort of sick attachment to him.

Stockholm syndrome is what Kafka called it.

“Human emotions are fickle, you see,” Kafka trails her hand over his shoulder, playing the little game she plays to keep someone entranced on her. But Blade has seen it far too many times to have any reaction. “They aren’t… something that can be mapped with 100% guarantee in destiny’s path. Though, her acceptance and willingness in this situation isn’t necessary, it would make things easier.”

He waves the explanation off, retiring to his room to handle the second part of his job with you. The dreams.

He plants them in your mind with his abilities as mere suggestions. His hand grazing over your thighs, between them, up your body, to your breasts… His breath hot against your skin, his hard member pressed up against you…

You jolt awake from them, covered in cold sweat.  

It’s all in preparation for the day Kafka tells you the truth of your arrival.

-

“You are to create a powerful warrior, the heir of Destiny.”

Kafka says it so gently during your weekly meeting that you step back, shocked and enraged all at once.

“Excuse me?” you almost spit the words at her. “How dare you-”

“Ah, ah.” She taps the gun strapped to her side once. “We’ve been real nice to you, sweetheart. I’d hate to see things get messy between us, wouldn’t you?”

You shut up immediately, realizing the situation. You’ve been brought here and treated well, not because they care, or because they even like you, but for this purpose alone.

“You get it now, don’t you?” she whispers in your ear, playing with your hair, both intimate and threatening all at once. “There are things we can do to make you more… placid in the situation. But something consensual would make it more pleasant for the both of you. We’ve even added some items in your bathroom, so that you can feel nice and fresh before and after. What do you say, hm? You wanna play with some new things?”

-

You take the week Kafka gives you to prepare. But what you prepare is not just your body or your looks. The nail files you were given have been sharpened steadily, forks and knives from your meals tucked under different parts of your mattress and pillows. Any attempt to search up how to prevent a pregnancy or anything even related to it gives a blank page. Whoever is their tech person is damn good.

On the day of, Kafka raps her knuckles three times over your door. You know it’s her, because Blade never knocks. Her eyes rack up and down your body, an eyebrow arched.

“Blade will be here any minute. Are you not going to get dressed?”

She doesn’t wait for your answer, moving straight towards your closet with some girl best friend mentality instead of your captor. You play with the hem of your pajama shirt, your fingers jittering against the fabric as she hums quietly, hangars clicking against each other with every nervous second, only stopping with a satisfied mhmm!

“Here you go, sweetheart.” She pulls out a raunchy, wine red lingerie set with a matching sheer gown, almost like the colors on Blade’s usual outfit.

“It doesn’t really matter what I wear, does it?”

You shouldn’t question her, shouldn’t comment, but the overthinking runs through your mind so heavily that words full or resentment spew out before you can stop yourself. What happens after you’ve had the baby? Is that it? Is your purpose finished? 

Kafka smiles sweetly at you. “Of course it matters. You and Blade are Destiny’s match. In some cultures, a pre-organized match is how all marriages are made. As long as you cooperate, this could be a pleasurable experience! I’ve heard Blade’s quite talented in bed.” She acts like the conversation is nothing, holding the lingerie up to your body to see if the color matches your skin tone.

As long as you cooperate.

“A-After…”

Kafka laughs, so sweetly you might even feel like you were friends. “Oh, darling! As long as everything goes smoothly, there are no plans to get rid of you just yet. Does that help that pretty little head of yours?” She taps your forehead before pressing the hangars against your hands, gently pushing you towards the bathroom.

“Good luck, darling! I just know you look beautiful.”

-

Despite your preparations, nothing prepares you for Blade’s presence.

His heavy boots strike the floor with every step into your room before he sits at the foot of your bed to remove them with a thump, like he belongs here. He’s closer than he’s ever been to you since the day he grabbed you, so much so that you can smell his aftershave.

When he glances at you past his fringe, you tuck the blanket closer over you. It’s cute, he thinks. Even after seeing him day after day, you’re still the scared bunny he captured. He chuckles low in his throat. He approaches you like a predator seeking its prey, his arms stretched out. As if the open gesture makes him any less dangerous, as if you feel any less hunted. He wants to tell you that there’s nothing to be scared of, but you’d both know he’s lying.

“I can make this good for you,” he opts for instead, kneeling over you on the bed. You can’t help but notice how he towers over you, how tight his clothing fits over his body. He watches carefully at the way your fingers twitch in response.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Why don’t you show me what’s under that blanket?” He carefully brings himself over, tugging the blanket between your hands, right in front of your chest. You let him, the duvet falling away, his eyes instantly marveling over your figure.

He wolf-whistles low, the sheer gown doing nothing to hide the pretty lingerie that hugs your body underneath.

“You got all prettied up for me, doll?” He wants to touch you, wants to tear it off of you like he was promised he’d be able to, but a glint of something holds him back. Because when he looks right into your eyes –

They burn with aggression. Even behind the fear and the innocence, he can feel the way you’re just about to fight or flight.

“Why don’t you let me in, doll? Let me touch you, okay?” He removes his shirt as he talks, unbuttoning it and sliding it off to reveal strong muscle and scarred tissue, your eyes wide at his figure.

You’re hesitant, not even sure why he’s asking, but you nod anyways. He starts with placing his hand on your calf, moving it up to your knee, reminding you of the dreams you’ve had night after night of him exactly like this, the touch both light and electric. He runs his other hand over your jaw, thumb over your cheek, even as you flinch slightly away.

“’m gonna kiss you,” the warning is a courtesy. He needs to speed things up, pressing a kiss to your forehead to test the waters, before pressing another one to your lips.

It’s soft, at first, his lips pillowy against your own. He deepens it, resting the back of your head onto the pillow, pressing your body into the mattress. His tongue swipes behind your teeth.

You wait, like a bird about to swoop down. Let your legs wrap around his torso, bringing him close, a soft groan escapes him from your initiative, eagerly seeking you back as his hands work their way up your thighs.

And then you strike, your heartbeat sharp in your chest, reaching behind you to grab a sharp nail file and hauling it towards his neck-

You hear it clatter to the ground before you can even process, wrist pinned to the mattress, squeezed borderline painfully between his thumb and forefinger. He acts like it’s nothing, continues wrapping his tongue around yours like you hadn’t just attempted to murder him. The only gesture he even recognizes what you did is the slight smile you feel against your lips as he pulls you in for another kiss.

So you fight, you aim between his legs as you kick and thrash, only for his other hand to wrap a hand around both your ankles clasped together. With both his hands occupied, you grab at the inside of one of your pillows to stab a fork into his side, but he’s faster, always faster, using his calf to pin your legs down as he slams your other wrist down on either side of you. His hands cover over yours like a lover, he comes right up against your ear to whisper –

“Tsk, tsk. Bad girl.”

The nail files you sharpened, the forks and knives you kept from your meals. All of it becomes futile, useless, against Blade. Every attempt you make to even scrape him between kisses are effectively knocked away, as if they never happened. He presses your hips down heavier into the bed.

“My, my. Someone’s been naughty when preparing for my arrival, haven’t you?”

“H-How can you go through with this?!” You spew out in frustration at his unfazed manner. “You kidnap, murder, manipulate others just for the sake of destiny? Some abstract cause that you don’t even see the full picture of?”

He laughs, but there’s no humor behind it, grabbing at your neck and squeezing, your hands flying down to his wrists immediately to resist.

“Maybe I enjoy it. Hm? You ever thought about that? Sure, if you’ve lived as long as I have, the killing starts to feel more like a chore. But taking a scared little girl and forcing her into bed with me? Well,” he growls in your ear, “maybe I get off on it.”

He releases you, letting you cough and taking in big gulps of air. He licks a stripe up your neck and over your lips, lets his teeth nibble against your jawline as he grips the back of your neck and manoeuvres your robe off to reveal your stomach, large hands splaying over the expanse of exposed skin.

“Besides, that’s not a nice way to treat someone doing you a favor, is it?” He grips you by the jaw, forcing you to look straight into his glowing eyes.

“I could just cum inside of you and be done with this,” he speaks through gritted teeth, his gaze following down the line of your body and back up. “So, you get one more chance to be good. No more tryna kill me, you’re just gonna lie back and let me take care of you. Answer me back, doll.”

You nod as much as you can with your cheeks mushed by his fingers.

“No more misbehavior. I’m being nice, darlin’. You get that? I’m preparing you.” He presses the length of his body against yours, your eyes widening as you feel his large member pressing against the seam of his pants, right against your core.

He smirks at your reaction. “Yeah. You get it now, don’t you, baby?” His teeth scrape against your earlobe as his breath ghosts over your ear. “If I made you take me without preparing you, you wouldn’t walk for days.”

You want to roll your eyes, to quip back, to tell him to fuck off, but then he’s stripping you of your bra, his mouth closing over your nipple, long fingers trailing over your thighs and towards your clothed core.

And all you can think, is that it’s better than the dreams you’ve had of him.

He knows exactly what he’s doing. How he licks at the underside of your breast, leaving bite marks at your cleavage, sucking at your nipples. How he teases his fingertips over your clothed core until the fabric sticks to you, nail trailing around your clit, thumb flitting just over and under the edge of your panties.

The way you can’t help but arch your back into him is telling at best and pathetic at worst.

“Already weak for me?” he chuckles darkly, pulling down your panties with a low whistle at the mess you’ve made.

“Has it been a while, princess?” he kisses your hip, lets his tongue trail over just so you can imagine what it’d be like to have his mouth on you. He knows how long they’ve kept you here under close watch, and yet he has the nerve to comment on it.

But he’s right, and you realize just how right he is when he drags his fingertips through your folds.

And it’s in this hazy, lust-filled moment that you figure if you’re going to be bred like an animal in this room to create the heir of destiny, you might as well get something out of it, willingly receive the pleasure you’re given, especially as his breath catches over your core, his nose digging into your inner thigh.

He watches as your shoulders go lax and your thighs tense. “Mm, that’s right, baby. You just relax and let me take care of you, hmm?” He laps at your inner thigh, coating it with saliva like he’s claiming you, you might think you find it almost disgusting if he didn’t match it with a long lick right at your core, from your entrance all the way up your clit.

Your response is immediate, your nails digging into the bedsheets below you as he chuckles, his hair and fringe tickling your thighs as he wraps his arms around each of your legs, holding you steady as he trails his tongue in a zig-zag motion over your core. He teases you every time, getting slower before he laps over your clit and then starting again from the bottom, until your bottom lip wobbles and your hips buck into his face, unable to contain how badly you want his tongue.

When you look down and make eye contact with him, you see his crazed eyes darkened. You almost feel scared to ask, scared to make requests when his tongue purposefully caves into your core.

He chuckles as he watches you weigh the options in your fogged mind, whether your desperation is worth risking the sight of him materializing his cracked sword. He teases you again, teeth grazing against the edge of your folds, circling wide around your bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, spiralling towards the centre only to purposefully avoid it again. Your chest rises, heartbeat loud in your chest, unable to contain the whine that escapes you.

“I-,” you try despite your fear, only for the words to be choked in your throat as he laps another circle around your clit.

“Got something to say, little one?” You can feel his lips moving over your core as he speaks, tonguing your entrance.

“W-Wanna- please-”

“Mm, can’t decide if I like you better when you’re begging or when you’re trying to kill me.”

 Oh, so he’s got jokes. You almost want to smack him as he laughs, but he interrupts you.

“Beg for it more.”

He slides a finger into you, so much longer and thicker than your own, as you babble something that sounds like “please, Blade, please, please”. He finally grazes his tongue over your clit once, twice, your back arching as he takes the opportunity to slide another finger into you.

“You gonna beg the same way for my cock, darling?” He crooks his fingers towards himself to press against your spongy walls, your wetness leaking down and coating his hand. “Answer me when I ask a question, doll. Don’t make me tell you again.”

“Yes, fuck, Blade- gonna- gonna beg for your cock, ah, please, I wanna-” he decides that’s as good as it gets, bringing your clit between his lips and suckling over. Your hands grip the sheets so hard your knuckles turn white, your hips bucking into his face uncontrollably as the pleasure builds.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby. Go ahead and cum for me,” his words are muffled against your heat, his shoulders keeping your thighs open even as they twitch and squeeze around him. He laps at your clit between suckles, fingers hitting your g-spot with every slide in, and you cum hard over his face and around his fingers. Your slick coats his tongue, your walls shaking with each wave, mouth open in a silent scream, mind fogged and empty except for the feel of him and the warm muscle of his tongue as he works you through it. It feels endless as your clit trembles in his mouth, your heartbeat loud and your breath harsh.

You come down with your chest still heaving, his tongue slowing down over you until you instinctively try to move away from him because of the sensitivity. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, a satisfied grin over his face.

“Told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I? Now,” he kneels back onto the bed, expanse of his chest visible, spreading your legs wide to fit his body between them. “We came to an agreement earlier, didn’t we? What did we say you’d do?”

“B-Beg for your cock…” you whisper it softly, demure even though he just had you thrashing over his face.

“Mhmm. So tell me, darling, what do you want?”

“W-Want you… want your cock-”

“More.”

“I- Blade,” you whine, “I want your cock inside of me. Is- is that what you-”

“Yeah, baby. I want you wet and sticky between your legs, begging for my cock despite the circumstances. That’s exactly what I want.”

He watches you, you let him watch you, as he unbuckles his belt with a click, letting it fall to the floor somewhere. You watch as his eyes skate down your form, his chest puffed and breathing deep, his pants pulling down to reveal more of his muscled torso and Adonis belt.

He’s stunning, you’re sure anyone would think so, there’s a small, self-sacrificial part of you that thinks you might even be lucky that in these unfortunate circumstances, such a beautiful man is the one taking you. But in his mind, nothing beats the way your eyes widen as his underwear falls to the floor to reveal his cock, both thick and long, the mushroom tip enlarged. You’re not sure if it’s fear or arousal that seeps into your veins as you back yourself up on the bed with your elbows, only for him to grab you by your thighs and drag you back towards him.

“Ah, ah. Where do you think you’re running, hm?” He pulls your legs up so his large hands can wrap around the back of each of your thighs, pushing your knees wide open and towards your chest.

Only when his hair tickles your ear, his breath ghosting over your neck, do you begin to reach under the mattress and towards the headboard. There’s a voice in the back of your mind that tells you it’s futile, that it’s a bad idea. He had been so nice to you, hadn’t he? Is this self-survival, or self-destruction?

You can almost pretend it’s in ecstasy, in anticipation of having his cock inside of you, as you draw a knife out and whisk it towards him.

The slap of his palm against your wrist happens so fast you don’t even process it until you hear him tsk, his fingers squeezing you so tightly until your hand opens up, metal clanging onto the floor as you let out a sob.

“And I had been so nice to you.” His voice drops an octave, a condescending, disappointed look is on his face as he stands back up, the kind that makes you want to bite back at him. The words never make it out, your mouth dry as he moves faster than you can blink to pick up his belt, the loud whip of it slapping against his palm making you flinch.

It’s in this moment that you remember what they called him, what Kafka called him. The greatest weapon destiny has ever forged.

“Blade, wait-” You try to use what little empathy he might’ve had for you before you had gone and done what you did, but it’s no use.

He laughs sadistically. “Wait?” He slaps the belt against the back of your thigh, your hands not moving in time to protect yourself, instead you wince as your fingertips tap against the now-welted skin.

“I did everything right, didn’t I? Talked to you, brought you your meals, ate you out until you came over my mouth.” Another whip rings out in the room against the back of your other thigh, making you yelp in agony.

“And yet, how do you repay me, hm?” He climbs over you, lightning fast, one hand gripping your chin and cheeks, mushing them, forcing you to look at him.

“Stupid girl,” he spits the words in your face. “You should’ve been grateful that I had been so kind.”

He whips you a third time over your core as you cry out, his face uncaring as tears start to drip down your cheeks. He grabs both of your wrists with one hand, looping his belt around them and between the intricate woodwork of the headboard, pulling until the leather is tight and clasping it together.

“I’ll tell you what, girl,” his hand wraps around your neck, not clasping down but the threat is there all the same, his thumb caressing over. “It was a good effort you made, I’ll give you that. But I could detect your micromovements of aggression from a mile away.” He squeezes your neck a little harder, listening to you gasp and choke under him. “You could never have won against me.”

After weeks of being patient, he finally, finally, gets to sink his cock into you. He jerks in his own hand at the thought, the blunt tip pressing against your entrance, surprised to find you even more slick than before. His hands resume where they were before, grabbing where your skin has turned raw from his abuse.

“Now, you’re gonna lie there all pretty and pliant like you’re meant to, and I’m gonna do my job. And you’re gonna thank me for fucking you slow, even though you don’t deserve it, because I wanna take in every inch of this pussy like I was promised.”

He bullies the first inch his cock into you with a satisfied smile, watches with greedy, perverted eyes as your slick already starts to coat and drip down his cock. He feels the way the ring of muscle restricts as he slides the second inch in.

“So fucking tight,” he groans. Your walls clamp down around him, almost like they’re stopping him from pushing in anymore, but he forces himself in anyways. You try to push him off with your legs, try to tell him that you’re “so full, so much,” but all he does is huff with a smile.

He feels his tip hit against your cervix, his balls slapping against your ass, and lets out a satisfied sigh. You think he’s done until his arms tense again, pressing in deeper again, an extra few centimetres shifting into you, even as you cry and sob that it’s too much and too big, until you swear your cervix opens up a little just for him to fill that space.

He’s so thick and hard inside you that you feel like you can’t breathe, the pressure so high inside of you that can’t even properly squeeze your walls around him. The feeling is suffocating, your wrists straining against his belt.

“Got you all prepped and ready for me, pretty thing,” he pulls out of you almost entirely, your cunt already feeling empty, before slamming back in hard. Your whole body jolts against the bed, he fills every part inside of you, the tip of his member pushing against your cervix again, making you see stars behind your eyelids.

“Now you’re gonna take me like you’re meant to, like you’re made to.” He pounds into you over and over again, your hands flat against the headboard as it shakes with each thrust. “And I’m gonna cum inside you, doll, just like I promised. And we’re gonna do this night after night, until your pussy moulds into the shape of my cock.”

He groans, pressing your knees down with his heavy body weight, until you’re almost chest-to-chest, his head draped beside yours. “Gonna cum deep inside of you, load after load, until you’re filled to the brim. Never gonna use my own hands again when this sweet cunt is just down the hall. My personal fucking cocksleeve.” Your mind goes blank with every thrust that hits deep inside of you, whines and moans leaving you, your breath catching with every kiss the tip makes with your cervix.

“You’re gonna go to sleep every night with my cum inside of you, wake up every morning to it still sticky between your thighs.” You swear he’s gone insane. When you turn to look at him, his eyes are wild, almost feral and destructive. But he’s watching his cock slide in and out of you, the frothy ring that forms at the base of his cock, the sight of it making some animalistic urge inside of him come out to scream to him that you’re his.

“You take me so well, doll. Shh, yes, baby, I know it feels good.” He doesn’t care anymore. The whole heir of destiny shit is at the back of his mind compared to the way your pussy feels squeezing around him.

“But y’know, baby,” he hisses through his teeth, “You cumming isn’t particularly necessary.” The whine that you elicit at hearing that makes him smile, you’re so adorable that he kisses your cheek. “Maybe that’ll be your punishment, hm? If ya really wanna cum, you’re gonna have to beg me for it.”

You pull on your restraints uselessly. “Please, Blade, please make me cum. I wanna cum, fuck, you’re so big.”

It’s clear to Blade that you’re not in your right mind by the way your eyes are glazed over, body limp aside from the way your thighs tighten around him, whimpering pleads and apologies and his name.

“Got nothing but cock in your brain, don’t ‘cha? Just a hole, made to be bred. That what you are? A pretty girl made for me to cum inside?”

You pant yes into his ear, you don’t know anything except how much you need him. Need for him to touch you, to let you cum, to fuck you.

“Say it then, my pretty girl. Say you want my cum.”

Your words feel foreign in your own ears the minute they come out of your mouth, you can’t believe for a minute what you’re saying but you decide you don’t care either.

“W-Want your cum, Blade.”

Your voice is meek, soft in comparison to the slap of skin as he fucks you harder, deeper. Nothing makes Blade happier than breaking a pretty girl to beg for his cum.

“Mm, good girl. You can be good after all, can’t you?” He brings his hand down between your legs, brushing over where you’re both connected to right at the base, picking up the slick that still continues to drip down your crack. He brings it up to your clit, grazes it with his thumb, and your reaction is instant, whining so loudly it borders on a scream. You swear you see stars at the feeling of your clit and cervix being stimulated all at once, again and again until you start to clench down hard and uncontrollably around him.

“Shit, fuck, baby, you gotta let me in-” Blade forces his cock into you despite it, hips snapping against yours. You’re so far gone, uncaring of the way your body thrashes against his, mind empty except for the way his cock fills you up over and over again.

“Yeah, fuck yeah. You gonna cum, baby? Ah, fuck. You’re gonna take my cum, take it all when I cum deep inside of you. Go ahead, pretty, go on and come for me.”

You don’t know if he’s somehow brainwashed you but his words are like a command that your body instinctively knows to follow, your thighs tightening, head falling back, your walls squeezing his cock impossibly tighter until your body jerks and you’re cumming. Your hands grip on your restraints tight, back arching and heartbeat loud in your chest and ears as he works you through it, his fingers never ceasing over your clit. You feel the way Blade’s tempo starts to falter, the beautiful groan he makes as he thrusts as deep as he can go once, twice, and then his warm seed spills inside of you, coating your walls and womb white, filling you up.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, baby.” He overstimulates you both, fucking his cock in one more time with a hiss and another thrum of his thumb over your clit that has you trying to reel back just a little from him, even in your tired state, your walls still shaking with aftershocks.

He pulls out of you incredibly slowly, as if he’s careful to leave all of his fluids inside of you. He plugs your whole with his thumb as soon as he pulls out, but it only stops the inevitable from happening for a few seconds before his cum starts to spill out past it.

“You- you came so much,” you’re not sure if you exclaim it in wonder or horror, realizing what you had both just done.

He smirks. “Yeah, baby. And you’re gonna keep it inside of you for me, mmkay?” He plays with the cum that drips out of your hole, coating his fingers with it before pushing it back inside of you.

“This pussy’s mine now.” 

-

The aftercare is a blur in your almost passed-out state. Blade picks up your lace panties and rides them back up your legs for you, to “keep his cum inside of you” and then says something about getting a plug. He makes you drink water, bringing a glass with a straw to you. The last thing you remember is him undoing your wrists of his belt before falling asleep.

As he lies next to you, Blade’s own voice echoes through his mind. Just a hole, made to be bred.

He knows you’ll likely take it as something he said in the moment. Well, it doesn’t really matter how you take it. But he realizes, it’s the first time he’s ever lied to you.

As cruel as Blade is, he believes in honesty. Maybe that’s the cruellest part about him.

But even as he lies next to your passed-out figure in bed, applying tincture to your wrists with such gentleness he’d never reveal to you in your waking state… He can feel the power that surges through you.

He presses his palm just under where your diaphragm would be, where the power is the strongest. Even in its unawakened state, even to Blade himself who is only half-awakened, remembering just parts of his past lives, even he can feel it. The way the power courses in waves, pulsing inside of you like a second heartbeat.

--

A/N: it’s a miracle this fic didn’t have a daddy kink in it but the next blade fic i write definitely will LMAOO

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Already Gone || MV1 {6}

Pairing: Max Verstappen x spy!fem!reader Summary: The brief moment of quiet comes to an end when Ferrari go on the attack for retribution. Warnings: 18+ only, oral, smut, violence WC: 2.7k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven

You had fired the warning shot and there was nothing to be done but wait and see how Ferrari would respond to their stocks plummeting.

With no races for the next two weeks you had too much spare time that it left you itching to do something, anything. After years of living life on a whim, moving from place to place faster than Max with his DRS, all this time at home was taking some getting used to.

The house was tidy, the laundry was done, you even started to log into the dark web to see if there were any jobs waiting before realising that it wasn’t your job anymore. You were part of a small team that worked under the very loose term of security but reported directly to Christian. With Ferrari scrambling for sponsors to finance their team, it had been relatively quiet for you in recent weeks.

After pottering around in the kitchen you decided it was five o’clock somewhere in the world and broke out the blender. Armed with two cocktails, and nothing left to keep you busy while Max streamed, you made your way upstairs and decided to watch his race with the rest of the Redline team.

You saw his smile grow in the small box in the corner of his screen when he spotted you pass through the doorway behind him and he risked crashing as he steered with one hand so the other could pull you onto his lap.

“I wondered when you would get bored,” he commented as he continued leading the race. 

“It seemed the perfect excuse for some day drinking,” you said as you held his glass up to his lips so he could take a sip as he steered.

“Oh fuck, that’s strong,” he said with a cough before taking another drink anyway.

The chat box started to go crazy with the amount of comments coming through and you scanned over them until one caught your eye and you snorted a laugh.

user1: Max, I hacked your computer and have your sex tape. Pay me €1m or I’ll release it.

“No one can get past my firewalls, but nice try!” you said before you leant towards the camera and childishly poked your tongue out. 

“Babe, babe,” Max called as he shifted around trying to see the screen before his car crashed and he threw his hands in the air, nearly sending the drinks flying. “Ah, come on." His head dropped to your shoulder with a groan before he placed a quick kiss in the same spot. "Gianni says thanks.”

user2: Uh-oh! Someone’s in trouble now. user3: Y/N coming and ruining it for the rest of us.

“I was just giving the other guys a chance to win,” you said for the chat before turning to Max and kissing his cheek, “so your friends will still want to play with you.”

user4: such a mommy thing to say user5: Did everyone else miss the fact Y/N just confirmed they made a sex tape!

Since Max no longer needed his arms to drive, they curled around your waist as he read the comments with you, answering some questions along the way. 

“No, we haven't…well, not on purpose,” he said as he saw the last comment. “I forget how many security cameras she has set up around the house and there’s always new ones, so it just happens.”

user3: Sounds like Y/N is keeping Max in prison. Blink twice if you need help.

His laugh teased your skin as he rested his chin on your shoulder and unplugged his headphones so you could hear Gianni and Diogo teasing him.

“Alright,” he cut them off with a roll of his eyes when they took things too far as always happened. “That's enough internet for one day, I’m going to go and get drunk with my lovely warden.”

“That’s sarcasm, for those about to call the police,” you pointed out as you held his bored face up to the camera. “I know it’s hard to tell with this stoic, handsome face.”

Max chuckled as he closed the platform and you shifted on his lap to get more comfortable. “Are there any videos?”

“Oh, without a doubt,” you confirmed after finishing your drink while you thought of all the places in the house you had gotten carried away with each other. “I haven’t actually checked though, but now I just might. Maybe I can make a video for when you’re away.”

“For you or for me?” he asked as his hands ran up your thighs slowly.

“I might share with you if you ask me nicely.”

The sim chair went sliding back before Max stood up with you in his arms and he navigated the hall to cage you beneath him on the bed. You could taste the gin on his tongue before he trailed his lips down your neck and across your collarbone.

“Is this you asking?”

He hummed his answer against your skin and his fingers popped the button on your jeans. “Nicely.”

“You certainly know how to get your way,” you praised, lifting your hips so he could drag them down your legs before you sat up just long enough to pull your shirt off.

“I learned from the best,” he teased with a wink before he tugged your body to the edge of the bed and fell to his knees between your spread legs. His breath was warm on your thighs and the short hairs that shadowed his cheeks left you writhing before his lips even made contact.

“Maxxxxx,” you whined as he kissed everywhere except where you needed it most.

“Yes?”

You pushed yourself up on your elbows so you could see the smirk on his lips. “This is not my definition of ‘nicely’.”

“Patience, liefje.”

“Patience was never my strongest virtue,” you warned before you used a move that was meant for close combat and ended with Max on his back on the carpet and you straddling his chest. “I want you.”

“I can see that,” he chuckled as his hands gripped your thighs and pulled you higher up his body, lining your centre with his lips. “Impatient little minx.”

You moaned as his tongue finally found your sweet spot after all the teasing and your hips rolled as you buried your hands in his hair and rode his face.

You had never had a lover like him, one that was more focused on your pleasure than his own. One orgasm wasn’t enough, he wanted you weak and overstimulated, your arousal running down his chin as he held your hips tightly so you couldn’t escape his tongue.

Your body was more than wet enough to take him when he kicked his shorts away and you sunk down his hard length. But your cunt was tight from the orgasms and the air left your lungs as he filled you so deeply it was almost to the point of pain.

“Need a moment?” he asked as his thumb reached between your legs and found your clit.

You did but, as he said, you were impatient and planted your palms on his chest as you slowly started to ease yourself up and down his cock. The sounds of your breathing changed as pleasure began to build and Max grinned as he gripped your hips knowing you were ready for more. He shifted beneath you, his knees bending so he could have the leverage he needed before he slammed up into you.

You cried his name out as your bodies slapped together and his strong hands bounced you in time to his thrusts. Every stroke dragged him along your walls that fluttered around him and you swore in ecstasy as his head hit your cervix.

Sweat beaded on your forehead, your legs trembled uncontrollably and you could barely open your eyes when his hold finally eased. There was no way you were going to be able to make it to the bed as you rolled off his body and collapsed to the carpet beside him

You were just about to open your mouth and ask him to drag the bedsheet down to the floor when your smartwatch lit up on your wrist. The alert was for the silent alarm that had been triggered on the perimeter of the property and all the oxytocin and dopamine released thanks to Max was replaced with adrenaline. Strength flooded back to you as you rose to your feet and grabbed a white shirt of Max’s that was close by.

“Lock the door behind me,” you ordered Max with a whisper as he noticed the change instantly. “And call Christian.”

“What’s going on?” he asked, pulling his shorts up as he made his way to the door too.

“Someone’s in the house.” You grabbed his shoulder as he went to step out of the room and pushed him aside. “Do not leave the room until I’m back. This is my job.”

“You’re my girlfriend, I’m not going to let you go alone.”

“Right now I’m your security,” you hissed quietly as you watched the camera feed in the small device, “and I will knock you out if it means keeping you safe.”

He held his palms up and took a step back into the room until you nodded in satisfaction. “Be safe.”

The worry in his tone brought a small smile to your face. “Always.” The door clicked shut behind you before the lock slid into place and the smile faded. It was time to go hunting.

You swiped across the device on your arm, flipping through all the cameras to determine there were three men in the house. They were still on the ground floor and making their way around each corner with the ease of a group that was used to working together.

Pulling Max’s shirt over your body, you wished you had time to at least put on a pair of panties. That was the last thought you spared before gripping the handrail of the stairs and shutting out everything but the task ahead of you. These men would not make it to the stairs, they would not make it to your bedroom, they would not make it to Max.

You timed it perfectly.

The billowing shirt caught the air as you leapt over the handrail and crashed feet first onto the man who had stepped into your path. He was lucky he didn’t look up because Max would have probably killed him for what be would have seen. Instead your heel connected with his head and he was a crumpled heap on the floor before you had even got back on your feet.

“She’s in here! You, find Verstappen and break his fucking hands.”

You dropped your hips low as you spun to face the voice behind you, tucking your head behind your forearms as a fist tried to kiss your cheek. The blow glanced off your arm but the crunch on knuckles on plastic rendered your smartwatch broken.

“Dick,” you growled as you lost the camera feed, and the position of the third asshole who had broken into your home. Angered even more so, you took the offensive and attacked.

The man was well trained as he dipped and dodged your 1-2 combo but he wasn’t expecting the furious headbutt you threw when he stepped in for a body shot. Light exploded behind your eyes as the man stumbled back with a groan before he stabilised himself with the wall.

“You’re a scrapper, aren’t you?” he laughed as he wiped the blood from his forehead before it ran into his eyes.

“Raised in the streets, sweetcheeks,” you smirked. If it wasn’t for the gin and adrenaline your head would probably be aching beyond belief but you couldn’t feel it just yet. “Who hired you?”

“I’m not going to tell you.”

“Worth a try,” you said with a shrug. “At least I know there’s no reason to leave any of you conscious.”

This time when the man attacked you didn’t try to stop him, you let him shove his weight into you and took him with you to the floor. Your knees caught his gut and when the momentum shifted, you pushed up with all your strength and sent him barreling into the solid oak front door. The wood cracked under the hit it took and you waited a moment to see if the man would rise.

A sound of annoyance rumbled from your throat as he tried to crawl on his knees and you shook your head. “You have one hard head, sweetcheeks.”

“Fuck. You,” he spat back, using the door handle to pull himself up.

“No, thanks,” you swung your knee up and knocked the air out of him, satisfied he wouldn’t be trying to get up again when he slumped to the floor. “I have taste.”

A shadow crossed the floor from the other end of the hall and you spun around to see the last assailant darting from the kitchen to the living room. Aiming to cut him off, you took the other archway into the large room and found him armed with a very expensive vase.

“We weren’t interrupting something, were we?” he asked as he eyed up the length of skin showing beneath Max’s shirt and you pulled the material back into place as you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Lucky for you we had just finished. If not, your friends would be dead.”

The vase was a gift from Max’s mother no less, and the man threw it at your head. You were torn between trying to catch it and self preservation but self preservation won as you slid out of the trajectory and it shattered across the living room floor. Shards went flying and Achilles hissed as he shot off the couch with the fright.

That’s when you saw red.

A sound akin to a warcry erupted from you as you ran and tackled the man around the waist, shoving your shoulder into his ribs as you both went down.

“You.” Your fist splattered blood across the carpet as it broke his nose. “Scared.” The skin on your knuckles split with a hard punch to the man’s side. “My.” Your nose wrinkled at the sound of his ribs cracking. “Cat!” You fell back on your heels panting as the man struggled to breathe.

The rapid thumping of feet running down the stairs had you rushing back to your feet thinking there was a fourth intruder but it was Max who skidded around the corner.

“You’re meant to wait for me,” you said as the fight left you exhausted and you swayed on your feet.

His arms were there to catch you and he scooped you off your feet and he kissed your sweaty forehead. “I heard you scream.”

“They scared Achilles,” you said with a wince at the touch and he pulled back, his eyes widening as he saw the swelling of the bruise beginning.

“You’re hurt.” The living room gave way to the kitchen and Max placed you on the countertop as he grabbed the first aid kit from under the bench.

“I might have a headache.”

“Stop being so tough,” he warned as he cracked the rapid ice pack open and placed it to your head. “Brett’s on his way, so is Christian.”

You bit your lip as he wiped your knuckles with disinfectant and the alcohol burned the cuts before he gently wrapped them with gauze.

“Does this mean we have to move?” he asked as he stepped between your legs and took over holding the ice pack in place. It was almost hard to imagine that on the other side of the wall there were three men unconscious when he stood in such an intimate position.

Your head snapped back to look him in the eyes. “No, this is my home. I’ll be damned if I let anyone take that away from me again.”

He swallowed before nodding in agreement. “Okay, then teach me to fight.”

Your eyebrows shot up your forehead and you winced as it sparked fresh pain. “What?”

“This is our home. I’m not going to let you defend it alone, again.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips as the doorbell rang and Brett called out. “This is my fight too.”

“Your fight with Ferrari is out on the track.”

“Not anymore.”

Click here for chapter seven.

Tagging: @octaviareina @omgsuperstarg @mvclff1 @alwaysclassyeagle @icantcomeupwithamusicalname-blog @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky @vita-di-moda @formulas-bitch @untitled1279

[instarsandcrime]

Returning the Favor (3/4)

Thank you for waiting!!!

Whoof, here we go! I love Hu//sker//Du//st, so admittedly this was much easier to write. ^ ^" Regardless, now we've got Caretaker!Angel Dust and the reason Sick!Husk exists in the first place. Thank you very much for reading this far, and I hope you enjoy!

---

“--sk?”

The black, unconscious void began to flicker and fade.

“Husk?” A familiar voice called again.

An endless dream finally cleared, nothingness making way for rose-colored eyes and adorable freckles that decorated them like stars.

Damn Cher, Husk thought distantly, you could make the sappiest love poems outta the most heartless bastards. Y’know that?

Angel Dust blinked his long eyelashes before stifling a bubble of laughter– his partner’s face burning when he realized that yes, his caretaker could in fact hear him. The skin under his icy fur trembled. Angel Dust leaned in to embrace him–

“HUP’TSCCHHHUHH!”

–and pulled back when a strong, throat-shredding sneeze echoed against the walls. Husk's ears pressed flat between a wince of pain, red cheeks somehow turning redder. “Ghhh– ow. S’rry Legs, wassn't s'posed to be that loud– hhhuh!”

Another shaky hitch, and Angel pressed a thin finger just under his nose. “Easy tiger. Don't break all those ribs at once.”

It twitched once. Twice. And finally the cat demon slumped with relief, sinking back into the cushions when the tickle subsided for the moment.

"What--"

"Fell asleep on the couch again. Try not to talk too much, okay?" The other interrupted, feeling the back of his head.

For once, Husk didn't fight it.

A click of the tongue, and thin brows knotted in sympathy. "Shit, that's bad. Maybe I should carry you up--"

"No! Khff Kff--!" Husk shot upright, the shock striking a match, scraping against his throat. Hacking coughs bubbled to the surface, tears lining the edges of his eyes as his lungs nearly rattled. Hunched over, the ringing in his eardrums began to fade– replaced by small, comforting words. Well-manicured fingers moved to his head, gently raking through his fur, and he couldn’t help the delighted shiver that ran down his spine.

"Please, Husky? For me?"

Damnit. 

Slowly but surely he raised his arms, looking everywhere but the ever-widening grin that hovered over him. “I wasn’t lyin’ when I said you make me sappy as fuck. You– snff! You know that, right?”

“It’s a good thing I came along then. I like you better when yer not scowlin’ like a grumpy old man twenty-four seven.” Angel Dust winked.

Something small but ugly twisted in Husk’s chest.

He elected to ignore it, trying to avoid Angel’s doting look as he got on one knee, cradled in a bridal carry as they ascended the staircase. The world blended in colors that seared his eyes and pricked at his skull, and he nuzzled his way into the crook of Angel's neck to shut out the world. Gasping when a tickle surfaced and before he could stop it–

“HP’SHHH! HUP’SCHHHUH! Huhhh..!” Fuck, fuck, fuck that went right down his back! The sickly demon tightened his hold and pinched his nose– to no avail. “HN’CHXT! HUH’CHNXT’hhhuhhh…hhHH-!”

“Hey, hey, don’t hold that shit in. Let it out for me, okay?” Angel Dust cooed, “Y'know how many fluids I've been covered in before? Trust me, this is on the bottom three grossest shit.”

“Hnn…! HUT’SHHH’HUH! HUP’SCHHHH’huh! Hhhhuhhh…hhgh…ugh…sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Husk felt his body laid carefully on the mattress. He only needed to mourn the cold for just a moment before peachy fur and lanky limbs intertwined with his. Two around his waist, two around his chest, two massaging his temples to chase off the pain.

"How long've you been like this? You shoulda called. I coulda ditched work." Angel Dust offered.

At that Husk hummed out a hoarse note, tail flicking restlessly. "'S fine. Had help."

"Good. This whole damn project woulda been for nothin' if ya hadn't been cared for."

"'M supposed to help." He whined. Actually whined. Fuck, this stupid bug was getting to him.

"Yeah? I don't see nothin' like that in yer contract."

Another twist of his insides.

"Well maybe it should be." Husk growled, wings bristling. "For the past two days it's been nothin' but eyes on me. Fuck, Alastor sneaked in when I was asleep!"

"What?" Angel Dust marveled, "And that’s a bad thing? Yer bein' pampered for once in yer life!"

No.

"You deserve the same treatment as everyone else. Y’know that, right?"

Stop!

"Christ Husk, it's like you're allergic to help--"

"Well maybe I'd be worth a damn if everyone focused on their own damn problems and left me alone!"

Angel sat there, wide-eyed as Husk bolted upright.

“Do you know how fuckin’ ridiculous this shit is?! Charlie’s losin’ sleep because the hotel’s– snff! fuckin’ packed with new souls she can’t keep track of! Vaggie’s overworking herself because she feels like she has some goddamn obligation to lay her life on the line! Lucifer’s tryin’ to pretend everything is fine but he’s too fuckin’ stuffed with pride to even begin unpacking the shit he went through before The Fall!”

“Husk–”

“And you! You’re the worst of it! How long’s it been since you’ve been back here? Three days? Do you– sndff! Ugh, fuck– do you know how long I waited at that goddamn bar for you to come back? I waited until I literally got worried sick!” 

The air was so tense it could be cut with a knife. Still, as the heavy panting slowed, the bartender’s heartbeat quickened. Shit. Shit shit shit! Bile rose in his throat. He could feel the rims of his eyes grow wet and fuck, what was he thinking! What the fuck is wrong with him! Goddamnit, he was such a fuckin' mess! He was surrounded by such good people and all he did was hurt them. He denied their help– goddamnit they were just trying to help he doesn't deserve to be here he'sjustlikeVa--

"Husk!" A voice raised, and Husk suddenly gasped out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He surfaced from a storm he didn't remember drowning in. Slit pupils widened as he was met with someone he still didn't deserve. Smiling fondly like none of that ever happened.

"Breathe." Angel Dust said softly.

"Ange, I-- kff! I-- kfff kFF! I didn't--"

"Shhhh. Breathe." 

Husk opened his mouth to argue. And with a rattling inhale his shoulders untensed. An exhale, and his jaw unclenched. The tears that threatened to spill streamed down his cheeks in rivulets, and he choked back a sob.

"I...h-huh! HUP'SHHH! Snff! I didn't-- hUH–! HUT'SHHH! K'SHOOO! I didn't mean t...to...! HAT'SHHHUH!"

Fucking embarrassing. He startled when something soft pressed against his nose.

"Blow." He shot Angel Dust a glare, but it only came off soft, red-rimmed eyes and wet cheeks that clumped his fur. A disgusting gurgle, and the ailing patient slumped into the sheets, exhausted from every angle.

"Husk, baby, it's okay. Yer sick, you've got a fever, and it's makin' you miserable. Of course yer gonna be grumpy, I’d think you were nuts if you weren’t!"

"Give it a rest. I'm bein' a dick and I hurt you, that's all there is to it." Husk muttered. Blinking in surprise as two palms cradled his cheeks, met face to face with a gaze that pierced right through him. Carefully a third hand reached out, taking his wrist and guiding his paw to a pink-furred stomach.

"Did ya hurt me here?" Anthony asked gently.

"N...no." The demon dared not to move.

Then carefully the other moved up to his neck, completely unflinching. Face pinched in determination. "How 'bout here?"

"No. But-!"

"Here?" The spider demon moved to his cheek, resting it in a heart-shaped paw pad.

"N-no..."

"Here?" His claws met Angel's fluffy hair.

"No."

"How 'bout here?" The porn star moved to his breast, giggling at the unimpressed look that stared back.

"Kid."

The joke was abandoned when Angel Dust inched it gently to the right. A heart beat thumped calmly between his claws.

"And here?" Angel Dust whispered.

Husk swallowed hard, trying not to let fresh tears well up again. His ears wilted, and that’s all the signal needed to be guided into Angel Dust's lap, eyelids drooping heavily. Letting lithe fingers massage his aching muscles.

"D'ya really think I wouldn't say somethin'?" 

"Hm?"

"If I was hurt by you?"

"Mmm...snfff! Y'would."

"Good boy.” Angel Dust hummed, resting his chin on his partner’s head. “You should really get some rest."

"Nah. I've been restin' for two days..." He yawned, fangs poking out. "missed you."

"I ain't goin' nowhere, Babydoll." Angel tipped his chin upwards to give his other half a peck on the forehead, and Husk sleepily rubbed his head just under the chin with a raspy purr. "Sleep. For me?"

Husk sighed. The peace and quiet draped over them like a blanket, warm and comfortable– torn clean in half at a building itch.

“HEP’SHHHH’HUH! ET’CHHHH’HUH! ETCHHH’HOOO! Guhh– HET’SHHHH’HHUH! Ughhh.”

“...After we get ya some meds. Salud.”

[moriitis]

hihi :3 I already saw someone request this on another blog but I wanted to see it in your style, toby with reader who has very long hair? like I mean to the ankles long. especially if it's really thick and poofy, would he help her brush it or braid it? anyways I love your writing!! <3

holy shit I love this??! thank you so much!! hope this satisfies !

TW; vomiting.

Now naturally this all depends on the scenario, are you his helpless victim? A lover? Obviously it'll be fun if we kicked things off with a little horror.

Oh, the idea of long hair, the way it trailed behind you as you ran carelessly through the halls of your empty apartment, it sent shivers of pleasure down his spine.

How careless, how stupid, he thought as he trailed behind you, hungry eyes focused on the way your hair flicked and lashed out.

It took him nothing to take one lunge and reach out, his gloves fingers wrapping around your hair and taking a fistful of it. It was a quick yank, a yank hard enough to send you falling to your back.

There was an urge, an urge to remove his glove, to caress your face, to feel your hair between his fingers.. there was that hungry urge to hack away at it, to cut it off and leave you in a state of dismay.

He stepped over you, his body looming over your own. He'd never met someone with such long hair before, frankly, there was too much of it. He pondered, how the fuck could someone care for such a thing?

His eyes were hungry as he brought the ends of your hair closer up to his face.

With a finger, he slipped it up and over his mask before promptly slipping it off his face, revealing the hideous scar on the side of his cheek.

Then he pressed your hair against his nostrils, sucking in a deep breath.

He shuddered.

Then chuckled a little.

"L- L-" the letter trailed on his tongue as his neck twitched, causing his face to turn and scrunch up briefly. "Long hair like that w-.. will get you k-" he ticked. "Killed."

A shit eating grin appeared across his features.

In one swift move, he had one knee resting just next to your head. His hands removed themselves, untangling from your hair before moving now to your skull.

He took another fistful and forced you up with the aid of your hair.

Your eyes met, faces inches apart. He was quivering, his breath shaky, the eagerness and excitement attacking his body all at once.

He sighed.

"Took you a l-.." it was like he struggled with the letter 'L', he twitched his head again. "Long time to grow that out, such a f--ffuckin' waste." Then without much care, his hand guided your head to the side of the wall and your vision went black.

Oh, long hair? It wasn't what he expected when he first laid his eyes on you, a blush scattering across his face. He was thankful for his mask, making sure to push it up further in an attempt to drown out his excitement.

Beautiful, long hair on an already beautiful person? Was he dreaming?

Toby blinked once and then twice, shit, were you talking to him?

"Y-Your h-.." Fuck, don't mess this up now! "Your hair is so.. long." Was he being blunt?

He felt compelled to touch it.

Toby couldn't force himself and kept his hands to himself but as weeks turned to months and the ever growing love that was blossoming between the two of you was getting bigger and bigger, he felt more comfortable with the physical touches.

It took awhile before he suddenly blurted out.

"So, obviously I-.. I-- I'm your boyfriend, right? So- So, like.. I can tou-.. touch you, r-right?"

Boundaries were important, he wanted to be careful and tread carefully.

"H-How the ff-fuck do you c-.." twitch. "Control your hair?"

He was naturally curious. The life of a guy and their hair was not much of a drag. Brush it out and wash it once every three two weeks.

So when you two found time alone, when he felt physical, craving the touch, or when he found himself lost in his thoughts, his hands would find themselves entangled in your hair.

He never knew how relaxing it was to brush such long hair, how your hair reacted to the brush. It was like fucking magic.

So when you suggested the idea that he could braid it, he was dumbfounded.

What the fuck is a braid. Like the kinda shit he feels compelled to do with some rope? You can do that to hair?

He scoffed.

"Braid, psh, yep, know how to do that."

Motherfucker just ends up twirling your hair round and round.

He was a flustered fuck when you laughed at his attempt, his brows furrowed as he tried to explain himself.

So when you showed him how to do it, it took a couple attempts.

First attempt, he lost the hair band and became very focused on finding it.

Second attempt, he accidentally let go and it unravelled in his face.

The third attempt he was getting somewhere though, it was starting to look like what you showed him but nothing as perfect as you had it.

Then there were the times where you were uncontrollably sick, heaving into the toilet bowl as he held your hair and caressed it.

He used the trick you taught him and tied it into a braid while you were throwing up.

Was so proud of himself.

Toby, being the lover he is, refused that you bath yourself while this sick, so he had to help you wash your hair.

Jesus it was a nightmare.

He complained the whole time.

"There's t-t- too much hair?!"

sorry if this sucks, i hope its okay ;,)

requests are open!!

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Blessed Heir of the Abyss (Abyssal Prince Childe x Reader) Part 5

Synopsis: After centuries of conflict, Teyvat and the Abyss are attempting to make peace with one another. To solidify new alliances and let go of past grudges, the Abyssal Prince Tartaglia will choose a spouse from the people above to rule over the Abyss with him.

That spouse happens to be you, an ordinary, Visionless citizen of Liyue.

Chapter Four: Of Stone and Scales

Previous | Next

Warnings: Descriptions of illness and pain, allusions to crying and fevers, coughing, SLOW BURN

~ * ~ “What a conundrum this is…” Through the haze and smoke of your fever comes a gentle press against your forehead, the touch of soft and delicate hands ghosting over your skin like a butterfly’s wings. They’re cold- too cold, at first, and you flinch away- but the chill turns soothing against the heat of your sickness, and you let out an instinctive sigh of relief as the neverending pain recedes, even just slightly. The same careful touch holds the back of your head and lifts it upwards, prompting you to sip from a small ceramic bowl. You comply without a thought, barely tasting the sharp bitterness of the liquid as it slides down your throat, and those wonderfully gentle hands settle your head back down onto a plush pillow before pulling away. Your brow furrows as panic rises in your chest, wanting desperately to reach for and take hold of this singular moment of comfort, to bask in its sunshine forever. Please, stay. “Honestly, what were they thinking, bringing a mortal from Teyvat to the Abyss? The elemental whiplash…” A steady voice cuts through your distress like a knife, and the knot in your stomach unravels. Just barely you can place the sound of footsteps on wood, delicate clinks of glass and pottery, and dried leaves being crushed together. “…It’s enough to make an Adeptus seriously ill, much less a human.” In the sludge of your consciousness you open your mouth to speak, only to fail and let out a few awful, wracking coughs. Fail… yes. That’s all you seem to do now. The murmurings pause, soft taps of shoes growing a bit louder, and a cool hand rests on your arm, now speaking directly to you, “Rest, my friend… you’ll need your strength.” They squeeze your arm; once, twice, and what little vision you have fades as you drift down into a murky ocean of silence. A child laughs, her swing creaking, and a tiny green flower blooms from your fingertips. Everything blurs together as you return to nothingness. It’s the light that you sense first, shining through your closed eyes and filling the void with colors. You groan, shifting and pulling the covers over your ears in an earnest attempt to snatch a few more minutes of sleep, the bed cushioning your sore, aching joints. But the light merely shines brighter, birds twittering and giggling at your plight, and with a hiss of annoyance you relent to their joyous whims. Your eyes crack open and stare into the morning Harbor sun. With a gasp you fling yourself into a sitting position, only to double over as you cough and hack, tears springing to your eyes from the force, breath coming out as sharp wheezes. “Ah, you’re awake- Oh dear.” Someone hurries into the room to sit beside you, pressing a hand to your back and rubbing it up and down. “Let it out, my friend, you’ll feel much better afterwards.”

You take the advice in stride, coughing and coughing until your head spins and your shoulders shake and you’re absolutely sure that you’re going to faint- but you don’t, and slowly the coughs fade away until you can breathe, gratefully inhaling a lungful of air. “There… how do you feel?” You turn and blink in surprise for what seems like the hundredth time this week, gaze landing on a familiar, green-haired figure. “D… Dr. Baizhu?” His snakeish eyes shine with delight, golden and amber and fire-colored, “Ah, you remember me! Good, that means your mental faculties are intact, at the very least.” “How couldn’t I?” You let out a laugh, hoarse but happy. “You’re the best pharmacist in Liyue! Zhongli talks about you all the time- he always recommends your herbal remedies if I have a sore throat.” Baizhu chuckles quietly, “He does, does he? Well, I certainly won’t disagree with him on that.” The jewels hanging from his glasses glimmer, and you have to stifle the urge to reach out and bat at them like a cat. There’s a squeaky yawn from a table across the room, and Baizhu glances towards the sound with a smile, “Ah, Changsheng.” He walks to the table, picking up a scaly white bundle in his arms. “I don’t think you two have met. This is Changsheng, my treasured companion- Changsheng, say hello to our guest.” The sleepy little snake raises her head, and you give her a small, hesitant wave. “Ah,” You jump slightly at her voice, her tongue flicking towards your hand. “This one is sick, aren’t they?” Baizhu nods, eyes darkening, “Yes, they are.” He sits beside you again, Changsheng slithering up to his shoulders and peering at you curiously. “Your mind seems to be undamaged, but…” he sighs. “…I am uncertain about the rest of you.” You stiffen, fingers weakly curling into your blanket, “Dr. Baizhu… What exactly happened to me? Why am I in Liyue? And why-” You’re abruptly cut off by a cough, and Baizhu hurriedly pats your back. 

“The short story is that the energy and atmosphere of the Abyss caused you to fall ill,” he explains carefully. “Mortals of Teyvat and the Abyss do not mix- it’s an entirely foreign land to us, and the sudden change between above and below was too much for your body.” Baizhu’s expression turns grim, “The stress of your particular situation also did nothing to help.” “Oh,” You swallow thickly, your throat like sandpaper, then straighten your back with some effort. “What’s the cure, doctor?” “Rest, mostly. Preferably somewhere familiar and nonthreatening.” Baizhu smiles, a small pair of fangs peeking over his lips. “And please, call me Baizhu.” He sighs, quietly, “You’re quite lucky that you were only down there for a few days, my dear. Give it a week, and I likely wouldn’t have been able to save you.” You glance up curiously, “That reminds me, er- how did I get back to Liyue, exactly? Did someone have to drag my unconscious body up here?” “Ah, well-” “Your Highness!” The door bursts open, and Enjou ducks his head to float into the room. “Are you alright?! I apologize for not coming to your aid sooner, I fell asleep.” “Enjou?!” Your mouth hangs open in shock, then you burst into laughter that quickly devolves into coughing. “You- ahem- you brought me here?” “That he did.” Baizhu nods, holding you as you hack out a lung. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting to see an Abyss Lector at my door, especially not at 1 AM.” “I am sorry about that.” Enjou bows his head. “It was an urgent matter, doctor.” “My dear sir, there’s no need to apologize! I’m very glad you got here when you did.” Enjou nods, hovering beside Baizhu, a bit awkward and out of place. He’s still wearing his glasses, you notice, and take a few quick glances between the Lector and the pharmacist. They almost mirror each other, in a way, with their glasses and elegance and worry for you.

“So, when do you think I can take them back to the Abyss?” Enjou breaks the silence after a few moments, and Changsheng lets out a low hiss. Baizhu clicks his tongue and shakes his head, gently stroking Changsheng’s scales, “Not for a while, I’m afraid. This whole situation is, frankly, a mess.” He gives Enjou a stern look over the top of his glasses. “They will need at least a couple of weeks to recuperate, and no less.” The Lector nods silently, his warm glow filling the room, “I will… see what I can do. The others of the Court are not going to like this.” “Enjou,” your voice is soft and scratchy. “I don’t want to die.” His tear-shaped eyes gleam kindly, and he delicately pats your shoulder with his claws, “You won’t, I’ll make sure of it. I’ll talk to the other members of the Court- they might be old fools, but they’re not entirely unreasonable.” You scoff, rolling your eyes, “I’ll agree with the old fool part.” Suddenly there’s a few quick knocks on the pharmacy door, and Baizhu tilts his head over his shoulder, “Ah, I might know who that is…” His quiet footsteps trail away, leaving you and Enjou in the bright, sunlit room, and you stare at the beams of light filtering through the windows. You’ve forgotten how beautiful it is, to see the dust float in the sun, casting patterns onto the floor, the comfort of being home warming your aching bones. The room smells of sweet flowers and bitter herbs and mint, and your eyes slide shut as you inhale, just barely able to catch the scent of rain and lilies from outside, splashes of bright colors dancing and swirling about. Familiarity washes over you, and you smile. “I should apologize for earlier,” Enjou’s voice pulls you out of your daydream, and you look up at him curiously. “I called you “Your Highness” in my panic over your state. I am sorry.” The Lector bows to you deeply as he speaks, somehow making himself seem smaller despite being twice your height. “Oh, it’s okay! To be honest, I was too busy choking to notice.” You smile tiredly. “Thank you… thank you for remembering, though. And for bringing me here. And for being nice to me.” Your thoughts spill from your mouth, one by one, a swift current rushing down a river.

“But of course! It is my honor to assist you, truly.” Enjou’s aura flares a bit brighter at your words. “And if it is of any help, I also apologize for my colleagues’ behavior so far. Including the Prince’s.” His voice lowers to a hiss. “He despises this as much as you do, but that is no excuse to treat you so poorly.” You feel your cheeks grow warm- warmer than they already are- and quickly cast your gaze to the blanket, thoughts tangled and muddled together, “Thanks, Enjou.” is all you can mumble, the thought of Tartaglia sending a fresh stab of fear and anger into your heart, your fists tightening around the fabric of your covers. “My dear,” Baizhu calls from the hallway, poking his head in with a satisfied smile, and the harsh fire in your chest dies down to an ember. “You have visitors.” As soon as he speaks a brown and crimson blur rushes towards you, dashing past Enjou and leaping onto your bed, “YOU NINCOMPOOP!!!” Hu Tao throws her familiar arms around you, already bawling her eyes out. “The first time I let you go somewhere without me and you almost end up dead! I may be a funeral parlor director, but your funeral isn't one I want to plan anytime soon!” Her grip tightens as she sobs into your shoulder, signature hat tumbling to the ground. “I didn’t exactly plan it!” You gasp through her stifling squeezes. “It just sort of… happened.” Your own hug feels weak and frail in comparison to hers, even more so than usual, and Hu Tao slaps her hands onto your shoulders, shaking you back and forth. “That is no excuse! Swear to me that you won’t die! Promise! Pinkie promise!” “Okay, okay! I promise!” Your head spins as she abruptly stops shaking you to look you right in the eyes, her fiery pupils filled with flowers and tears. “Good! And you better keep that promise, or else I won’t have anyone to sample my cooking or watch me destroy Xingqiu in poetry!” Hu Tao grins at you, but her eyes are dead serious, and you gulp nervously and nod. “And YOU!” Her head snaps towards Enjou. “You’re one of those creeps that took my best friend away! Why, I ought to lock you in a coffin and-” “Hu Tao!” You grab her arm, half coughing and half giggling. “He’s a friend, too, I swear!”

“Really?” She observes Enjou up and down, from the tips of his crown-like horns to his feet hovering off the ground. “Hmph, if you say so… but I’m keeping an eye on you!” Enjou raises his hands helplessly as she glares, glancing from you to Hu Tao and back again pleadingly, and you muffle a snicker. “She’s not the only one,” A deep, smooth voice emits from the doorway and you perk up, a wide smile spreading across your face as you meet Zhongli’s gaze, his presence casting a blanket of calm serenity over the room. “I will also be watching you closely, Lector.” Enjou straightens his back and bows, “Ah, hello Mor-” “Zhongli. Just Zhongli.” The man in question strides over, sitting in a chair by your bedside, long legs elegantly crossed. “I’m glad to see you are alright, little one,” Zhongli murmurs. “Well, mostly alright.” “It’s nice to see you too, Zhongli,” you whisper, and his gloved hands brush over yours to hold them firmly, heavy and comforting like the stones of Liyue Harbor. The corners of his lips are just barely turned up, but his draconic eyes glitter with warmth- for a moment, he almost appears tearful, but it quickly settles into pride and relief. “Gah, quit hogging, old man!” Hu Tao quickly latches onto your other arm, plopping her chin onto your shoulder with a pout. “You’ll have plenty of time to catch up with them while I’m busy helping our clients!” “He will?” You crane your head towards Hu Tao, blinking in confusion. “Of course, silly-billy! Baizhu says that you have to stay and recover for at least a few weeks- right, doc?” She glances up as the bespectacled pharmacist moves to stand beside Zhongli, and both he and Changsheng nod. “It’d be best for your health, my dear.” “Oh,” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, feeling lighter than air. “That’s good, then.” Like the flick of a switch you fall back into a familiar routine, Hu Tao launching into a detailed play-by-play of what you missed while you were withering away in the Abyss, including her rap battle with Xingqiu and Captain Beidou taking everyone out for a joyride on the Alcor- not that it was very joyful without you, she insists. You bite your tongue to stifle a laugh when she goes off on a tangent about how Yanfei dropped her enormous law book on her foot when she received news of your departure- “Nothing broke, but it sure felt like something did!”- and Zhongli lets out a low chuckle at the funeral parlor director’s antics, a hand on your back in case you start coughing again. At some point Enjou tilts his head and excuses himself, bowing once to you and once more to the rest of the room before floating away like crackling fire.

Hu Tao sticks her tongue out as he leaves, and you flick her on the forehead, movements still clumsy from sickness. “Oh, and you have to come to Wuwang Hill with me and Chongyun! I’ve heard that there are some departed souls still hanging around, so I want to-” “Director,” Zhongli’s calming voice breaks through her chatter. “It may be best to wait until they’re feeling a little bit better.” You nod sheepishly, “Sorry, Hu Tao. I don’t think I could make it to the Harbor entrance right now, much less Wuwang Hill.” “Aww.” Hu Tao looks sulky, tugging at the ends of her long pigtails. “But the city’s sooo boring! I’m sure we can work something out-” “Excuse me.” Enjou hurries back into the room, and Hu Tao puffs out her cheeks, annoyed at being interrupted again. “I know this is most likely a bad time, but…” The Lector hesitates, and you frown in concern. “But what, Enjou?” He sighs and meets your gaze, reluctant and apologetic, “His Highness is here. He wishes to speak with his spouse.”

[thepenultimateword]

Old Bones Part 7

| Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six |

Surprise, Vampire has a name now. It was feeling weird having one character named and the other not.

CW: Blood, death mention

Floryn took a long drag from their canteen, the spiced rabbit's blood settling thick and warm in the hollow of their stomach. Lav had insisted on preparing a fresh pot before they headed out into the snow, and while they'd argued against it at the time, Floryn was glad to have something to combat the chill.

They curled their toes in their boots, ignoring the blend of soreness and numbness that riddled their muscles. The violent thunk thunk thunk of their heart against their ribcage was harder to pretend away. They'd lived in this wood their entire life. First in Bellwatch, a village hacked into the south edge where the earth was fertile, like a scar in the tree line. The walls backed against the Wildern, the land untamed and unwanted, and the watchmen stood eternally atop the stone, watching the endless long grass and shadowed hills for danger. A simple place for a simple life. Until that vampire climbed the wall and killed them.

Then they'd ran. No sooner had they dragged themself from the grave, and they were skirting past the drawn and burned-out body of their sire and disappearing into the dark wood.

The larger, more populated Bellbreak had no walls. No guards at the border. It sat in the middle of a glen, untouched by the Wildern's claws. Floryn simply slipped into the crowd and disappeared. But now...well this was all different. Bellbreak had been a well-acquainted idea. The world beyond on the other hand was a deep, dark unknown.

Floryn readjusted the strap of their bag as it dug into their shoulder. "Can I come up there yet?"

"Just a couple miles more," Lav replied from several strides ahead. They had insisted on scouting a few feet ahead, kicking snow over any rice piles, or walking broad arcs around iron traps.

"You've been saying that for last ten. I'm getting tired of looking at the back of your head."

Floryn wasn't entirely convinced that that wasn't part of Lav's goal. Despite the positive ending to trauma of the last several hours, they hadn't faced them head-on more than maybe twice.

"Besides you haven't come across anything in two hours, and I don't think the townsfolk would've come this far anyway, so..." Floryn darted up to Lav's side. Lav grunted mildly, a sound of mixed disapproval and assent. Floryn snuck a peak up at Lav's new face, the square jaw clenched tight and russet brows furrowed.

"I didn't expect to get out this far so fast," Floryn said idly. "I guess you don't tire out so quickly when you're dead."

"Mm."

"I didn't notice before because I've always been running. No time to think. But it's nice going at our own pace, huh?"

"Mm."

Floryn pursed their lips, kicking a spray of snow into the air in front of them. The snow crystals settled back down against the drifts as if it never happened, the only evidence being a pit of powder that had floated back against Floryn's knees. They sighed quietly, and their gaze flicked to Lav's hand, swinging at their side. Large. Calloused. Flushed from the cold.

Floryn dug the point of their fang into their bottom lip, worrying it a moment so the underside filled with bland blood. It was still strange seeing the roughened digits in place of their old slender fingers. The more they looked the more their stomach churned, but that might've been the fault of what they were thinking about doing.

Slowly, slowly, their fingers outstretched, a hand length away, a finger, half a finger. Their knuckles bumped into the meaty palm, pinky twining around Lav's little finger.

Lav reeled back as if bit, jerking their hand against their breast and whirling on Floryn with wide, startled eyes.

Floryn blinked in dumb shock, a lukewarm blush rising to their cheeks. For a moment their throat squeezed too tight to get out a word, but eventually, they managed a choked, "Sorry."

Lav's face contorted into even harsher panic.

"No!" They thrust out their hands in front of them. "You didn't do anything wrong! I wasn't...I'm not..." Their fists clenched. "I'm feeling strange. New body. You knowing. I don't...I don't think it's a good idea to get too close. At least not so soon."

"Oh." Floryn wet their already-closing wound. "Right. Of course."

"It has nothing to do with you," Lav said, forcing their avoidant eyes up for a full second. Something dark briefly swam through the yellow pools. A lie.

"No, yeah, I know that." Floryn turned brusquely forward. "I just thought maybe you wanted...after everything...but I shouldn't have assumed."

"It's okay."

"Mm." Floryn pinned their lips together. Stupid. So stupid. Lav never said they wanted anything other than companionship. The reading, the care, the protection. You could do all of that for a friend. In any case, after everything they'd gone through that night, flirtation was probably the last thing on their mind, and Floryn had selfishly pushed it. Even more selfish was the fact that they were still scared of the new body. Maybe they'd thought acting close would help them accept it faster, help them focus on the parts of Lav they still clearly saw inside. But it could've just as easily made the situation worse.

"There's an inn a half mile from here," Lav said, breaking the quiet.

"A town?"

"No. The nearest settlement is Mudfield. About half a day away still. This a roadside inn. A business that relies on the patronage of lots of travelers who would rather not camp. Good for us since the sun is about to come up."

Floryn looked up through the gaps in the foliage. The long red fingers of dawn streaked the sky; they clutched their cloak a little closer.

"Let's go a little faster," Lav said, voice calm and smooth.

Floryn nodded.

It wasn’t long before the Inn came into view. It was larger than the cabin but not quite as large as what they’d always imagined in books. The thatching looked like birds had been tugging at it, loose twigs and straw sticky out at odd angles, and as they stepped up onto the porch the wood sagged and groaned under their feet.

A mixture pine needles, ale, and smoke floated on the air as they eased the door open. The room was filled with filled with barstools and tables, but they all sat empty. The best sign of life was a smear of something sticky on the bar counter.

“Oi! Trevon!”

Floryn turned toward the back of a room. A chestnut haired woman in a red apron swept at the floor under the tables like the world depended on it.

A low grumble quickly drew their attention back to the bar where was a broad, mustached man was stepping out of the back room.

“Early guests, eh?” He rubbed his hand down his eyes and into his mustache. “What can I do for yous?”

Floryn took a little step closer, opened their mouth, and…

Nothing came out.

They almost choked on the empty air. A hot feeling shooting from head to toes, liquifying the bones in their legs, and clenching their insides into a thousand tiny knots. The innkeeper narrowed his eyes. Did Floryn look like they were about to faint or did he know?

Suddenly Lav’s hand was on their shoulder, casually pushing them behind so they could step right up to the bar.

“Excuse the early hour,” they said, as honey smooth as the day they’d met. “Usually we wouldn’t impose at such an inopportune hour, but we’ve been traveling all night and hoped we could trouble you for a couple of rooms.”

The innkeeper stared at Lav for a moment, as if sensing the wrongness in him. But eventually he waved his hand flippantly. “We’re up this early every day. Got to get ahead of the tenants, eh?” He propped his elbows on the counter with a large yawn. “I only got one room. 15 coppers by the night. Will that do?”

“Perfect,” Lav said. They rustled in their deep coat pocket, producing a handful of small copper coins. Where they got the money after years in seclusion, Floryn didn't know. Maybe scoured off all the dead bodies and robbed graves.

The innkeeper scraped the coins into their hand and disappeared into the back. He returned a few moments later with a little silver key. "Room 8. Anything else?" he said, sliding it across the counter. "I can have Marri whip you up a hot breakfast."

From the glare Marri shot across the room, Floryn wouldn't have accepted the offer even if they could eat.

"Very gracious of you," Lav said. "But after a full night of traveling, the room is quite enough. Just up the stairs is it?"

"Even numbers on the right," the innkeeper confirmed.

"Very good." Lav's hand landed on the middle of Floryn's back, guiding them to the narrow staircase. The steps creaked and when they reached the hall it took some squinting to make out the half-rubbed numbers chalked on the doors.

Lav's hand slid away to unlock the door, leaving the spot on Floryn's spine tingling and empty.

Lav crossed the room in a few quick strides, yanking the curtains closed on the pool of sun spreading across the floor.

"If you're cold I'll light a--" They cut off mid-turn, only then noticing what Floryn had noticed immediately. Maybe they should be flattered Lav's first thought had been to keep them out of the sun, but the delayed reaction was somehow even worse than realizing their predicament simultaneously.

The single bed sat in the middle of the room, ropes hanging a little too loosely so that the straw mattress just brushed the floor. The bed hangings had also seen better days, motheaten and sustained from cream to light yellow--though to be fair, bed hangings in general were an unexpected luxury for this place. At the very least, the bed was full-sized; they wouldn't be pressed back to back.

Floryn shivered inappropriately at the mental image before brusquely shoving it away. A quick glance around the room revealed no other furnishings but a nightstand with a half-melted candle on one side of the bed and a chair and table, set with a pitcher and washbasin, on the other.

Lav cleared their throat uncomfortably. "I suppose the number of beds to a room was never specified."

"Well," Floryn said, trying to sound unbothered. "A bed is a bed." They slid their bag to the floor and plopped down on one end. "Can't complain there."

Lav nodded. "It's been a long night. You should rest." They dropped their own pack, quickly sifting out a blanket roll and spreading it out on the floor.

"We should rest," Floryn corrected. "Don't act as if you haven't had a long night too." They patted the space beside them.

"I'll be just fine by the hearth."

"I don't mind sharing."

"It's too much."

"For who?" Floryn said. "You never had a problem dozing off on the sofa. It's basically the same thing."

"It's different. And this body, what I am, all of it..."

"So? I can judge my discomfort myself, thank you. I'm fine." They met Lav's gaze head-on. "Unless I make you uncomfortable. In which case, we should flip a coin for the bed."

Lav clenched their teeth, rotating their jaw a couple times as their yellow eyes flicked from Floryn's face to the empty side of the bed, to the door. "You are so stubborn," they finally said, crossing the room and kicking off their shoes before sliding beneath the bedcovers. The mattress sank deeper towards the floor, but Floryn closed the bed hangings and crawled underneath the covers without comment. Despite their shoddy material, the hangings did make a cozy space. Even better because they blocked out any light that might have passed through the window curtains. The only downside was it made the bed feel narrower. A small but significant gap kept their and Lav's shoulders just short of brushing.

"You know you're making my gallant attempts at consideration very difficult," Lav said.

Floryn rolled toward them. "What do you mean?"

Lav matched Floryn's movement by turning onto their side, eyes glowing catlike in the shadows. "You do make me uncomfortable."

"Oh."

"Not because I don't like being near you," Lav said. "Because I don't deserve to be. I'm wearing the body of your attacker, I constantly make you afraid, and I'm a monster."

Floryn raised their hand to their cheek, eliciting a small shock. "Honey, you've never met a real monster."

Lav scoffed but didn't move away. "What am I then?"

They stroked a crooked finger down the ghoul's cheekbone "Yes, you're a monster in the traditional sense. So am I." Their other hand pressed to Lav's chest, the faux warmth of their skin soaking into their chilly fingertips. "But not in in here. Not where it counts. You don't have to be a ghoul or a vampire to be monstrous inside." The ragged rhythm of their heart beat into Floryn's palm, steadily picking up speed. "Maybe you have met monsters--the townspeople who sacrificed you, the people who chased you away from a normal life, my hunters--but don't think for one second you’re one of them."

Warm tears pricked Floryn's thumb, and suddenly, a pair of muscled arms wrapped around them. The air fled their lungs all at once and refused to be drawn back in.

"I care about you, Flor," Lav mumured into their neck. "My dear. My darling. My love."

"I love--" Floryn caught themselves, violently clearing their throat and bowing their face into Lav's curls. "I care about you too."

This ghoul was going to be the death of them. What did they mean saying "I care" and "My love" in the same breath? Their heart had already been stopped by an undead once, they didn't need a second demonstration.

Against their better wishes, they slid out of the embrace first.

"We should sleep. We need to put more distance between us and BellBreak before we can really relax."

"Rest," Lav murmured. "I can stay up if you're worried."

"Don't get noble. I worry about you too you know." They flopped the other direction. "If I wake up in a few hours and find out you didn't sleep, I'm going to be mad."

Lav chuckled. "Understood."

The covers rustled as they settled down deeper into the bed. The warmth of their presence tickled Floryn's back even from across the gap, but strangely, they weren't quite so anxious now. Perhaps they were simply to tired to worry anymore because sleep hit hard and fast. Seconds after closing their eyes they were engulfed in dark, dreamless sleep--a gift after so much nightmare fuel had been tossed their way today.

When Floryn woke next, the gap no longer existed.

Master Taglist:

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[mylifeisfruk4ever]

How Difficult Can It Be?

Chapter 1

“You should be at the Planet now.”

“Hello to you too, Bruce,” Superman said, gliding next to him. Bruce had slipped into the cave as soon as Dick left for school, to find out who had taken the photos at the gala and what connection he had with Vicky. 

He had called Lucius to tell him that he would be late for the meeting, but the man had told him not to worry and that everything was under control.

He would like to think more about his civilian life, but by now Bruce was obsessed. How could this have happened?

He was always so careful, how could someone have missed him? He had to find out.

He was so focused on the computer that he barely listened to Superman say, “…so now Lois is going to cover for me with Perry. That's how I got there first.”

“Mhm,” he grunted, nodding. There were several photographers at the party, but the photo was not of any of them. It certainly wasn't made by a cell phone or by someone trying their hand at it amateurally, so...

Superman's voice came to him calmly but decisively, "What have you decided to do?"

He blinked, once, twice, “What?”

The other man shook his head, but smiled good-naturedly at him (it should be illegal to smile like that, as if your face wouldn't hurt afterwards), “For the article and the photo, Bruce.”

“I'm looking for the author of the photo,” he said, pointing to the computer. Vicky won't like that someone hacked into her email again, but maybe it will teach her not to put Clark on the front page without thinking about the consequences.

“And the article? Because Lois is willing to interview you to get a denial, and she's sure she'll be taken more seriously and..."

“It won't be necessary,” he reassured him, putting his hand at his side. He had just felt a slight twinge. How painful it was to be hugged by Dick first and pretend he wasn't hurting like a dog. But he certainly couldn't make the boy go away without a hug first: he would think he had done something wrong and he would be sad, and Bruce didn't want to make him cry.

"Oh?" Superman raised an eyebrow. “Is your PR already dealing with this? Lois will be disappointed.”

"Neither. There will be no denials.”

“Huh?”

Bruce turned to him, "I want to introduce you to Dick..."

“Um…yes, actually it was time…”

“…as my boyfriend.”

Superman was silent. It was a very long and very embarrassing moment (at least for one of the people present), then he decided to ask, "You want me to do what?!"

"Introduce your as my boyfriend to Dick," Bruce said simply, as if he wasn't asking his best friend to pretend to be having a relationship. “It doesn't even have to last that long. We will tell him that things didn't work out but that we intend to remain friends, that way you can come to the Manor without arousing suspicion.”

“Yes, I'm going to need more context here and…Bruce, please look at me while we talk.”

The human took a deep breath, and turned his chair towards Superman. He was in very poor condition, he hadn't shaved and had hair sticking out everywhere. His t-shirt was loose, revealing a large portion of his shoulder, and his gym pants left part of his stomach exposed.  But Superman looked at him and felt like he had been punched in the stomach by Metallo. 

"Well?" Bruce said impatiently. “What do you want to know?”

“How about you tell me why the hell I should pretend to be your boyfriend to your adopted son?” Superman asked, his mouth feeling very dry and strangely itchy again.

And Bruce, master tactician, did it with a single sentence, "This way I don't have to tell him I'm Batman."

Silence again. Then, as if shaken out of his torpor, Superman blurted out a sincere and heartfelt, “Bruce…what the hell?!”

[nonbinaryaubrey]

(emetophobia tw. uhh and just general omori stuff ig.)

--

--

(You normally have.. pleasant dreams you think.) (Well you. hardly remember most of them. and they make your heart ache and your head burn. but deep down in your heart you know that there was something nice there.)

(Tonight was not one of those dreams.) (You're greeted by yelling. A dark room. Warmth under your fingers.) (You look down. Your hands are covering someone's (your friend your friend a brother) eye. Blood covering the side of his face. Your hands. The floor.)

(You blink. You are somewhere else. Your eyes sting.) (The room is bright. A light buzzing fills your ears.) (You are looking at that same person, who just moments before had blood spilling from his eye. The eye is covered now, neatly.) (He opens his mouth. and speaks. Somewhere in the back of your mind you think of this as odd, for him.) (None of the words make it to your ears, covered up by loud ringing. And yet you still.. feel. something.) (You can feel tears filling your eyes. You feel confused. You feel angry and sad and you feel hurt.) (You hear others talking around you, more ringing fills your ears as the room around you blurs and you see vague, flashes of things.) (You remember crying you remember yelling you remember feeling hollow you remember being loved and-)

(You're somewhere else again. You know youve only been here once before. Twice now.) (A grave. The name on it is illegible.) (Your mind is still buzzing, your eyes still sting.) (You open your mouth and you-

-Wake up, and promptly throw up onto the grass in front of you.) (A hand hesitantly touches your back as you hack up whatever was in your stomach) (The warmth, the weird static-y feeling of it. It comforts you vaguely.) (You wheeze a little as you sit up) "S-Sorry Loop… hhhah. Bad dream I think." (You look over at them, theyre normally so hard to read but..you can see the concern in their eyes this time.) "Are… you sure that's all, shooting star?" (You nod.) "Probably." (You don't even remember it now. It.. it was probably nothing.) (It had to be.)