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anantaru · 11 months ago

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I HATE EVERYONE BUT YOU

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — scaramouche has always been yours, yet he needs you to know that you'll always be his no matter what— even when you get all flustered while he shows you.

— ꒰ a/n ꒱ — in scaramouche we what?

— ꒰ wordcount ꒱ — 1.7k

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ns]fw, fem! reader, jealous! reader, dom scara, rough sex but very passionate, scara hates everyone but you, slightly possessive scara, spitting, cumming inside of you

"you have nothing to worry about,"

"stop thinking about it and look at me," fingers gracefully trace on your bare skin, "because i need you to realize," drawing all sorts of shapes into your searing flesh, like subtle curves into your ribs, "that you'll never get rid of me," and lines dragging across your stomach when scaramouche's hand ultimately settles on your hips.

your stomach does flips at his words, and a fresh tide of relief cuts through your initial doubts. he grins and clicks his tongue, eyes dancing with amusement when he catches your shyness, "hm? what's up with you? where's this pretty voice of yours now?" and that smile, ugh, he cannot help himself but irritate you abundantly, especially when he knows how you'd react to his words.

"shut up," you hiss, "don't do that,"

"do what?" he cocks a brow, "—that?" he breathes, boldly as his thumb rolls over your clit in slow circles. the fire in his eyes was hard to miss and when he feels your body react to his loving trace, he's more than happy to indulge in those waves of lust— most notably show you that he'll never go away.

"fuck—" you whine, "you're mean," and you find out that his thoroughly chosen words would end up adding fuel to the looming wildfire burning between you both, the two of you high on the tension and rush smoldering the air.

and scaramouche's confessions were driving you into a spiral.

"careful there," he coos, "take it slow," for him, there was no competition, and even if there was a competition, you're not in it. you're above everything. you're perfect, no one could ever set his heart ablaze like you did.

scaramouche hums, "you're stuck with me." he candidly bites down on your bottom lip, "okay?" when you nod vigorously at him, your hips leaving the bed as your back arches into his digits, your hands finding immediate comfort in his hair as you tug softly at his roots to press his lips on yours.

scaramouche was pretty when he looked at you like that, kissed you like he needed you to survive— dreamily while flushed, his cheeks seething with scarlet redness when he inhales deeply for a moment.

but he's not used to all of this, and he didn't like the fact that you could become jealous sometimes— after all, humans suffer more in imagination rather than in reality, and you have nothing to worry about, scaramouche certainly thought he made that very much clear.

but he's embarrassed, although not because of the fact that he might've gotten too close to someone who wasn't you and experienced regret, which, in fact, wasn't possible.

he simply cannot stand anybody besides you.

truth be told, he's a little annoyed that you forgot about the fact that he wasn't a big talker per se, he even actively chose his schedule so he wouldn't see a lot of people, or anyone for that matter. scaramouche never sought out to make any meaningful friendships with the people of the akademiya as well— despite the god of wisdom helplessly attempting to push him out of his comfort zone.

with that out of the way, the real reason as to why scaramouche was embarrassed was quite silly, because it's due to what your jealousy did to him— fuck, he finds it beyond attractive, yet he refuses to acknowledge that a special heat conquered his chest like that, reaching his groin until he couldn't think straight.

there's a delicate challenge in your ways of reacting when he tells you that you mustn't be jealous, and scaramouche drinks it like water— he knows you're everything he's ever wished for, like ice cream on a hot summer day, you're melting his heart.

he nuzzles into your skin to inhale your scent, leaves soft kisses on your cheekbones while holding your jaw, making you look directly at him.

does he need to show you that he's utterly addicted to you? so, do you require it like a challenge of sorts? because archons, he'll do it, easy work easy done.

to note, it's not scaramouche's fault that people want to talk to him and are curious about the new addition to the akademiya— yet he doesn't like them, it's pestering when they get too close to him as well, ask if he could talk a little more about where he was coming from because they wanted to be nice, civil but end up making him scoff with a roll of his eyes.

enjoying his own company was fine to scaramouche— and he always found himself fantasizing about you all the time, particularly about your soft laughs and candid smiles, your voice, your stories and your understanding was like a sweet melody to the wanderer, and he could indulge in it during his breaks, before he needed to finish a mission, or he could imagine it every single night before he'd fall asleep to the thought of you.

your body was rubbing against his now, sweat colliding as he removes his fingers from your cunt and wraps them around his erection, pretty dark lashes accentuating his flaring cheekbones while you loop your arms around him— parting your legs a little so he could easily slide himself in.

scaramouche gently adds pressure on your tight hole before moving his hips, but it's slow— gentle and delicate that you can feel every crevice of his length in you.

a soft moan rips from his throat as you mold around him easily, feeling him attentively as he traces the thick vein along the side of your walls as your hips twitch at the slight sting deep in your abdomen.

scaramouche was as desperate as ever to show you his love through physical attention— and the word shame didn't seem to find a place in his phraseology when he forces your gaze back under his. "open and stick your tongue out," he taps, once twice, against your lips with his thumb, "wanna taste me, right? so do it now," while keeping his throbbing dick buried inside as he purposefully moves his hips a little to make you squeal.

you cannot help the way your lips curve into a smile before you're parting your lips, applauding his efforts to claim you. it's merciless when he bundles the saliva budding in his mouth before spitting on your tongue, his crystalline eyes open to catch your tremble— how can he not indulge in this? you're nothing short of perfect, pleading for him to give you more.

"show me," he commands further, groaning deep into his chest when he looks at his saliva melting with your own and how it's dribbling from your chin, his length twitching rapidly as you try to steady your breathing at the sinful scenario you're living through.

scaramouche's hands clench at your waist as he fucks you as passionate as he can, his cock pressing against the overstimulated bud in your pussy before starting slow circles with his hips, your mouth huffing out candid i love you's amidst your moans.

inch by inch he slides into you, in and out in rapid movements, the more you take the better it felt having him rub your pleasure spots he so desperately desired to feel suck on his shaft and milk the cum out of his cock. he finds it cute when your face suddenly scrunches up if he moves faster than previous, your jaw parting in awe at how much better it felt the more he upped his tempo to batter your sore pussy.

it feels good— it always does, and if being a little jealous here and there would always result in this, than you'd gladly play your part as much as he needed it. it's almost like you don't hear yourself moaning and spell out honeyed praises, too occupied to indulge on the way scaramouche rolled along your walls and the noises of his balls colliding on your skin over and over.

"fuck— you're gonna make me cum fast," scaramouche gasps, dragging his sensitive cock through you like you're made for him, as if it just fits and he doesn't need to prep you, which he in fact, really enjoyed doing as well.

frankly, nothing tasted as good as your pussy rubbing across his mouth.

one hand leaves your hips before he gives your clit a little attention, pressing through the curtains that protected your sensitive pearl as he rubs your slick over the sensitivity, smirking devilishly when you arch your back off the mattress and begin to shake, your walls spasming while being so perfect when milking his cock, your pussy dripping with slick as he toys with your clit.

you cry out a sound between a broken sob and sharp moan of his name and that's when scaramouche knows you're close too— swift when he drags his hand from your clit to intertwine his digits with your own as he fucked you into the bed, your pussy pulsing around him as your eyes scrunch shut when you reach your high, falling slack against the bed and whining out shortly when he warms you with the weight of his body.

"fuck— shit!," his hips faster, his breath quicker, "you're fuckin mine, mine, mine," scaramouche falls apart, panting against your ear and groaning lowly, his erection pulsing while constricted by your walls as he holds his cock deeply buried in you before thrusting back and forth once, twice, three more times as he spills his load into your pussy— his warm seed setting your belly on fire by how perfect it felt to be claimed in such lewd, passionate way.

"fuck," he breathes, "gonna stay like that for a bit,"

archons, it's so sticky— borderline filthy and shameless with every intention of it being like that. your tits were still bouncing up and down from the following, last thrusts of him pumping his precious cum into your hole and making sure not a single drop gets lost midway.

after a while of collecting your breathing and turning it evenly again, you giggle out, finding his darkened hair strands as you greet him with a wet, sloppy kiss, "wanna join me for a shower later?" you mumble, eyes half-lidded as he hums softly into your lips, "mhm, or i'll decline so you'll get mad at me, right?"

"i will bite you," you threaten, shaking slightly as he pulls himself out without warning to expose his drenched cock being weaved with your slick, the filthy mixture dripping along your inner thighs,

"please do, "i'm counting on it," scaramouche ends with a wink.

#genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x you #wanderer smut #wanderer x you #genshin drabbles #genshin impact drabbles #genshin x you #genshin Impact x you

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is-this-even-relatable · 4 months ago

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Misfortune Teller

tldr: An older Danny, apprentice to Clockwork, does a lot of field work across dimensions, resetting the timeline, queuing future events, and who knows what else. Occasionally, he warns people about such upcoming possibilities, to set them on the right path. How, you might ask? Well in this case... as a wandering fortune teller.

Crack-fic (oh god, it's getting long and my logic brain won't let it remain as crack) where Danny becomes Clockwork's apprentice after getting his GED. Living his infinite afterlife to the fullest. Inspired by this tumblr post.

Working for Clockwork had been... interesting so far. At first, Danny got frustrated by how vague and cryptic Clockwork was. He'd just shunt Danny off to some ancient time with a few words, his own time medallion (Danny carried it everywhere with him now), and then pop back into the portal, leaving Danny with only the faintest idea of where to go.

Eventually, after enough time (ha!) spent around Clockwork, Danny figured out that it just basically meant that he had free reign and to do whatever he wanted. Because if he went on the wrong path, (like that one time in Pompeii when he had almost caused the volcano to explode a few years too early), Clockwork would just pop on by, say another few cryptic words, and then it'd all be fine and dandy, or as he liked to say, "All is as it should be... Now stop practicing your wail by an active volcano."

After telling Jazz about that (it was supposed to be funny, not concerning), she just sighed and shook her head, with a forlorn "think before you act, Danny!" but hey, it'd turned out fine so far, so who cares how he does what Clockwork asks him to do, as long as it gets done, right? Even if it's with a liiiiitle more mischief than strictly required.

Besides. Danny was the one who had been doing time shenanigans across millennia, not Jazz. And he thought he'd been getting pretty good at it too! He'd actually started giving himself a different made-up background for each universe he visited. Sam and Tucker were helping him keep up with the identities on a spreadsheet, so if he had to go back to one he'd already visited, he'd remember who he'd said he was supposed to be.

---

He was on a call with them one evening while haunting Jazz's apartment, doing just that, when he felt a familiar tingle in the back of his throat, as well as a heightened awareness of the seconds passing by, that always accompanied his mentor's appearance.

Sam was talking about his past stint posing as a god of death when he cut in. "Hey- sorry to interrupt, Sam- Clocky's here, guys, I gotta dip."

"Aw, come on! We hardly talked any this past week since you passed your certifications, man," Tucker complained.

Danny rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, yeah. Partly on you too though, you've been caught up outside of class, and Sam's schedule is nearly the opposite of yours."

Sam hummed in agreement despiter Tucker's scoff.

Danny missed hanging out with them as much as they had in high school, but hey, life goes on. Or at least, theirs did, to college. After finally flunking out of Casper High, he'd taken some time to get used to his responsibilities in the ghost zone, and when he had, he realized that he didn't really have much enthusiasm or timeleft for his human life.

And he didn't really want to go back home either.

But Jazz had made him tie up any loose ends before he noped-off to god knows where, which frankly, he had to thank her for. Getting his GED took a few years, but it was an accomplishment that could be attributed to Danny Fenton, no ghostliness required. Then he was able to let that tether go free.

Pulled out of his musings by a few more grumbles from Tucker, Danny said his goodbyes, promising to call the next time they were all available.

After hanging up, Danny swiveled around, anticipation already lighting up his eyes an ethereal green.

Clockwork, for his part, had been waiting patiently through Danny's lengthy goodbyes. Although he supposed that it tracked for the watcher of time to be patient. With his job, it'd be a nightmare if he wasn't.

"Phantom," Clockwork spoke, calm as always. "I have some tasks I need you to complete as my apprentice."

And Danny, always ready for adventure, didn't need him to explain any further. "Sure! When do you need me to be?"

Clockwork smiled at that. "I am fortunate you are eager. Follow me."

---

Danny popped into existence in this universe with a burst of cold air and static electricity. He found himself hovering by a clocktower above a sprawling, gothic city. Smog and light pollution obscured the stars above him, to his disappointment. He comforted himself with the fact that he'd probably have all the time he wanted to fly someplace less populated to see them later.

He started off by familiarizing himself with the city. As he flew, he followed the trail of power and met the resident city-spirit, a spooky- but kind underneath- woman draped in black lace, who told him her name was Gotham. He spoke in length with her about this universe, its heroes, and her knights. On that, she was very enthusiastic... or at least Danny thought she was, her projected emotions belaying much more than her gloomy exterior. She told him how her knights had been through a lot and would need some guidance fighting the darkness that pooled in her deepest corners, smiling with too much glee, filling lungs with fear, and terrorizing with cold hard bullets.

Danny could sense that the dangers she spoke of were growing in power, ever slowly. The longer they shadowed people's minds and hearts, an intangible thing grew that lent them more otherworldly pull than their physical forms had right to hold.

That must be what he was sent here for.

But... they were weak, pitifully so for him, infinite king as he was. And besides, he wasn't here in that sense. He was a messenger, a simple apprentice. And he could do this however he wanted.

Cue his talk with Lady Gotham, and subsequent idea to arm her knights. With what? Well, he figured knowledge would be a start. Flying high above the city invisibly, Danny noticed a sea of colors and lights by what appeared to be the city's pier. He flew down, noting that it appeared to be the setup spot for a travelling circus or carnival of some kind.

He considered what to do. One of Lady Gotham's troubles was a madman clown, right? Well maybe he'd be attracted to his ilk here... and with the danger came the knights. Maybe he could catch one of them here?

Danny was floating around at the entrance and beginning to formulate a plan when a flyer caught his eye. Looking for a mystic to read fortunes. URGENT!

Hadn't Clockwork said something about fortunes? And he hadn't made an identity in this universe yet...

A mischievous smile crept across Danny's face, splitting it in two with far too many teeth.

---

Half a city away, a man in all black, perched on the very same clocktower that Phantom had Appeared by, shivered as he felt an ominous premonition about his sanity in the near future...

Said man quickly opened his comms to check in with his many, many kids. Yet even after hearing back from each, he still felt apprehensive.

Somewhere even further, Clockwork laughed.

---

And that's how Danny found himself seated at a fortune teller's booth at a pier in Gotham, two days later, for the Tricksy Traveling Circus's grand opening.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #mine #is-this-even-relatable writes #is-this-even-relatable prompt #writing prompt #i wanna write this #prompt #prompt for me #I welcome anyone who wants to add to it #this is the first time I consider to be actually writing something #I wrote this all in one sitting just now #it WILL be continued... ideally #I am just busy and would rather post a lot of short blurbs than wait and do one long post #reposting this as its own post and removing the other as a comment on the inspo.#I was planning for this to be crack but I can't just let sleeping dogs lie #man fml my dumb brain always wants an explanation for things and can't accept “just because” which would be wayyyy easier

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cressidagrey · 2 months ago

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Stars all aligned - Chapter 1

Summary:

If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.

They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.

Warning:

Bashing of like...every IC member? I think Rhys gets the worst though, definitely disordered eating, kinda depression?, isolation

(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)

He found her deep inside the House of Wind. Far enough from the festivities of Starfall that it was startling to find her.

The second oldest Archeron Sister must have wandered off just like he had.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” Azriel asked her as he spied her sitting in a puddle of her skirts on one of the couches, staring at the empty fireplace.

“Why aren’t you?” Zahra gave back drily, not even looking up at him.

What exactly was he supposed to answer to that? Oh, I can't stomach watching your sister dance with her mate? And even if I could stomach that, Rhys's mental commentary to him about it had turned his stomach. Even when Azriel had kept away from Elain just like Rhysand had ordered him to do, ever since last year. So really...what was he supposed to answer?

“Dancing isn’t exactly my favourite activity,” Azriel finally replied. It wasn’t a lie.

"Yeah, well, mine neither," she answered with a shrug. "Not that I ever learned."

"You never learned?" he asked surprised. Nesta had learned. Elain had learned.

"Bastard, remember?" Zahra said drily. "I am lucky that I got to learn how to read and write and do basic math. I was not going to be molded into a perfect lady, because no self-respecting man would marry me anyway."

The blunt way Zahra was talking stunned Azriel momentarily. There was something harsh, something almost...bitter and resentful in her voice as she spoke.

It seemed like it didn't matter if one was born a bastard in Illyria or the Human lands. It was horrible either way.

"Your sisters will miss you," he said instead quietly. "And you'll miss the spectacle."

"I don't really care for the festivities," she said with another shrug. "I don’t like the holidays. Humans don’t have any. We… they are too busy trying to survive," Zahra corrected herself quietly. "And besides, I am only here anyway so I don't end up being an indentured servant until some of you decide that I am back in your good graces,” she gave back caustically.

He grimaced. That Zahra had vehemently disagreed about their treatment of Nesta was well known.

It had surprised him too because it was just as just as well known that Nesta seemed to not care for her half-sister on a good day. They weren't particularly close, in any way, shape or form.

Something in his chest clenched painfully. Not from the insult she threw in his direction, but from the defeated way she said it. That she thought that they would just…toss her aside like that.

She was one of them.

"We won't," he said firmly. Her eyes slowly turned toward him and there were dark shadows in those eyes. Out of all the Archeron Sisters, she was the only one with green eyes. Azriel wondered if she had inherited them from her late mother.

Zahra was only the half-sister after all. The result of her father’s dalliance with a maid. Her age put her somewhere between Nesta and Elain.

It was easy enough to pick out the differences between Nesta, Elain and Feyre and Zahra. Dark hair similar to Elain’s, but green eyes. Skin a few shades darker than any of theirs. Lips that looked like Feyre’s but a nose that looked like none of her sisters.

Zahra seemed to belong but didn’t.

And right now, these green eyes…something was wrong. Something was off with these eyes.

"You don’t know that," she said with a humourless laugh. "Do you want to lie to me too, and tell me that Rhysand has nothing to do with whatever happened between Elain and you?"

Azriel stiffened, a low sound escaping his throat. She knew. She knew.

"How did you-" he croaked hoarsely and Zahra cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Do you really think that I hadn't noticed the two of you dancing around each other for months? Or the fact that you two can barely manage to be in the same room together?" she asked dryly and Azriel averted his gaze. "There is no one as beautiful and kind as my sister," Zahra said drily. "I don't fault you for falling for her."

Azriel said nothing, the pain in his chest growing at her words. The pain...and the bitter realization that his feelings were not as well-hidden as he had thought they were.

"It doesn't matter," he said quietly. "She has a mate. She deserves better than me anyway."

"Did Rhysand tell you that too?" Zahra said drily. "You never tried to hide the fact that your mate was dying from the same, so you have that on him."

Azriel gritted his teeth, the pain in his chest becoming almost unbearable. "It doesn’t matter," he repeated firmly, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. "Elain is happy. I would do nothing to put that in danger."

"Yes, she is," Zahra agreed. "For what it's worth, I am sorry," she apologised to him, her voice honest.

Azriel swallowed, the pain in his chest lessening only to be replaced by something else. Something...much more complicated. Something like…pity.

He pitied her. This young female was so full of bitterness. He couldn’t even fault her for it either. She had been just a bastard. Even when they had first met the Archeron Sisters…Zahra had been working in the household as a maid. Half employee, half part of the family. Like their father couldn’t make up his mind what he should do with his bastard daughter.

"You don't have anything to apologise for," Azriel finally told her quietly. "Do you really not want to watch?" he asked her. "You are supposed to wish for something when you see the stars fall."

She snorted, the sound bitter. "What I want, I am never going to get," Zahra said, her voice brittle.

He took her in in more detail at that moment.

The simple green gown she wore, high necked and long sleeved...that long gown that did little to hide how thing she was. The dark brown hair, pulled into a braid, obviously trying to hide the pointed tips of her ears and failing...the way her skin, darker than all of her sisters, was nearly ashen.

They had all thought that she was doing well. That Zahra at least was adjusting well.

But she wasn't. She wasn’t doing better. She hadn't adjusted. Azriel would bet anything that all she wanted in her life was to be human again.

She hadn't adjusted. She just acted in a way that didn't bother anybody, that didn’t spell trouble for anybody. Zahra had gotten herself a job, managing the accounting at an apothecary in the city. She had gotten herself a little cottage to rent. She didn’t go out and get drunk. She didn’t use any money from Rhys or Feyre. She showed up for family dinners, staying quiet and polite.

And if she was miserable…well, then nobody cared, because she didn’t bother anybody. Azriel could understand that. The same was the case for him.

Azriel clenched his jaw, watching her quietly sitting here. The way she was trying to hide away. The dress that was more like a potato sack than anything else. The way her skin was almost...grey. That bitter voice.

The shadows were stirring and he was unable to look away from her. She looks upset, Master, they told him helpfully.

"Do you want to go home?" Azriel offered quietly. Home to her cottage? Maybe some peace and quiet would make her feel better.

Zahra shrugged, not looking at him. Not giving him an inch. That wall of bitterness and sarcasm was so firmly in place, that it was practically a solid wall between them.

“Don’t want to end like an indentured servant, remember?“ she quipped drily.

“You won’t,“ Azriel said evenly. “You had a headache. I brought you home.“

She still didn’t look at him, her hands tightly knotted into her skirts as she sat there. She was so thin, almost fragile-looking. Her skin was sickly grey. “Come on,” he said finally, walking towards her.

Zahra finally looked up at him. Those green eyes. A bitter and lonely light in them. “What are you doing?“ she muttered.

“I’m bringing you home,” he said simply, holding out his hand. “Come on, get up.“

Zahra looked at his hand, her gaze wary. “Why?“ she asked quietly.

“Because you look like you are about to keel over,” he said, more bluntly than intended.

“Gee, thanks,” she said dryly, her voice sarcastic and bitter. But she placed her hand into his own and let him pull her to her feet, even though he could feel the tension in her entire body.

Azriel wrapped his arm around her shoulders, steadying her. “Come on. Let’s get you home and into bed,” he said firmly.

He led her towards the balcony, the last few streaks of light painting the sky, and he grasped her tightly as they shout these few feet into the air until he could winnow to the cottage she rented.

It’s ugly, the shadows complained.

He had to agree with them. The cottage was an ugly little thing. Plain. Small. The type of thing that was more of a hovel in the outskirts, rather than anything else.

“Home sweet home,“ Zahra said dryly, pulling away from him and a key out of her purse.

That cottage was in serious need of some renovations when the red paint that was flaking off the door was anything to go by.

As she unlocked the door it became obvious that while she kept it clean and neat.. even that couldn’t help much. This is a hovel, the shadows hissed.

Azriel was inclined to agree. He looked around with a frown, as the shadows scuttered around the tiny cottage. “You live here?“ he couldn’t help but ask. It was a terrible hovel indeed.

Zahra shrugged as if she didn’t notice the disgust in his voice. “I couldn’t exactly afford anything else at first,” she said drily.

At least not without taking any money from Rhys and Feyre, and clearly that was nothing that Zahra wanted to do.

He was struck by how empty it all looked. There was a small kitchen space, a table with a few chairs a fireplace… And the door that led to her bedroom, he assumed.

“How long have you lived here?“ he asked carefully, taking in the bare emptiness. There were no pictures on the walls. No trinkets and little belongings anywhere. It was…lifeless. She shrugged again and kicked off her shoes, making her way towards the bedroom. “A year?“

The room was equally simple and bare. A bed, a few clothes. A little bathing chamber. That was it.

“You’ve lived here for over a year?“ Azriel repeated, his voice turning sharp as he looked at everything. There wasn’t even a mirror on the wall.

When she just shrugged again, he was done. He grabbed her arm and towed her back into the main room. “Stay,” he ordered, pointing at the table and one of the two rickety chairs.

“What are you doing?“ Zahra asked, raising both eyebrows at him. Her irritation had started to rise considerably. At least that had done something to the sickly colour of her skin.

“Making sure you eat something before you pass out on me,” Azriel muttered, turning back into the kitchen area, looking around with a frown.

There was…nothing. His shadows reported as much. She literally had a few pieces of bread and some cheese in the whole house. He was more than fuming. That was not enough that she was living in…this hovel, she was apparently also starving herself.

He pointed at the chair again. “Sit,” he ordered a little sharper than he had intended.

The glare she gave him did not surprise him. Zahra hated being ordered around. “No,” she said firmly, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I’m not hungry.“

Azriel clenched his jaw, the anger flaring. How stubborn could she be?

“You clearly haven’t eaten in days,” he said, pointing out the obvious. “You have nothing in your house to eat.”

“I have what I need,” she retorted, her own anger flaring. Azriel gritted his teeth, the urge to snap at her almost overwhelming.

“You are skin and bones,” he hissed. “There is barely enough fat on you to keep out the cold.“

“Why do you care?“ she snapped right back.

The question hit him squarely in the chest. Why did he care? Why, he asked himself for a moment. Why indeed.

He wasn’t going to lie to himself and say that it was just because she was Feyre’s sister.

Thankfully, Azriel was saved from actually having to answer, when her stomach grumbled.

Loudly. Azriel almost chuckled at the sound of her own stomach betraying just how hungry she really was. “Clearly your body disagrees with you,” he said drily.

“Shut up,” Zahra snapped, her skin flushing at the sound of her own stomach.

“I will shut up after you’ve eaten something,” Azriel said firmly, folding his arms across his chest.

Zahra gave him a glare that could strip the paint from the walls, (but then, the paint was already flaking off anyway). Still, she grudgingly sank down on the chair, her eyes avoiding his.

He turned back into the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers and found absolutely nothing. There was nothing. Not even some fruits or vegetables.

He slammed the last cupboard closed, almost causing the hinges to break, the anger flaring hotly in his chest. That stupid, stubborn, stubborn woman.

“I will personally come here every day and stuff you full until you burst,” he snapped before he could stop himself.

“Why?” she asked and he could hear the challenge in her voice. Her own anger rose to meet his own. “Why would you even bother?“

“Because you are starving yourself,” he said, spinning around to face her. “Because you are so thin, I could snap you in half with one hand. Because I’m pretty damn sure you haven’t eaten a proper meal in at least a year. That’s why.“

“Maybe I don’t deserve a proper meal,” she shot back and something inside of him snapped at the tone in her voice.

Because he knew that feeling. He knew. For just a moment he froze. They were far more similar than they should be.

It was a terrible realization. He knew what the self-hatred and bitterness was like. He understood it far better than he wanted to.

“Nobody is going to suddenly show up and care,” he told her quietly. He saw her eyes flare at the words and he knew she got the meaning behind them instantly.

She sat there, her jaw tensed. “And what do you know about it?” she snapped, her voice bitter.

“I know what it feels like to starve oneself,” he said calmly. “I know what it feels like to have not a single person notice or care.“

The words rang truer than they should. Her eyes widened for a moment, shock flashing through her.

“I know what it feels like to be the one be always at the edge of the family. I know what it feels like for everybody around me to meet their mate but not me.“

The words slipped out before he could stop them. The pain he had buried so deep, deep down flaring up. The pain and loneliness and bitter realization that would never have what everyone else had.

He realized only then how much they really had in common. How similar they were.

“I know what it feels like to be the afterthought,” he continued, unable to stop now. “I know how it feels to be shoved aside. I know how it feels to watch everyone around me find someone while I’m the one left behind.“

He took a step closer to where she was sitting, towering over her. “And I know how it feels to hate myself enough to deny myself the basic needs I actually have.“

The last words made her flinch. He was so close he could almost see the pain and guilt and bitter realization flit across her face. Her eyes were on her lap, her fingers wrapped around the edge of the table.

“I know what it feels like to feel as if I don’t deserve to eat,” he said quietly. “Because I’m not good enough. Not worthy enough. Not deserving enough.“

He knelt down in front of her, forcing her to look at him. To meet his eyes.

She tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let her. He wanted her to see. To understand that she wasn’t as alone as she thought. “I know what it feels like to punish myself by not giving myself what I actually need,” he said quietly.

Her breath hitched at the last words, her eyes widening ever so slightly. She was listening. Really listening to what he said.

“You’re not the only one who hates yourself, you know,” he said quietly. The look in her eyes shattered him. The look of realisation. Of bitter understanding. The realization that they were so much more similar than either of them had thought before.

Zahra bit her lip, the guilt flashing across her face. Her hands started trembling, ever so slightly.

“You don’t deserve to go hungry,” he said quietly, his voice firm and quiet. “You don’t deserve to starve yourself. You don’t deserve to live in this… hovel.

“The cauldron should just have killed me,” Zara said her voice brittle. “I don’t like this life.”

And didn’t that break his fucking heart?

She laughed bitterly, but there was no humour in it. “I’m not even surviving,” she said, a bitter smile on her thin lips. “I’m existing. There is a difference.“

The words hit him hard. She was right. She didn’t survive, she just existed. There was a difference and a huge one at that. “Then stop just existing,” he said quietly.

His hand was still cupping her cheek, his thumb stroking gently over her skin.

“Says the guy that just keeps moping around,” she quipped.

It was a low blow but also true. Azriel’s jaw tensed at the comment. “I don’t mope,” he bit. “I just..“

He didn’t really have a good argument in his defence at the moment.

He sighed. “We should both stop rotting away,” he said drily.

“Yeah, well, that’s easy to you to say,” Zahra said and he could hear the bitterness in her voice.

“Eat your cheese,” he responded.

She rolled her eyes and snatched away the slice of cheese off the table. “Happy now?“ she muttered.

“Delighted,” he gave back drily, as he moved towards her fireplace.

“You don’t need to do that,” Zahra said quietly. “I can do that.”

“Considering you’ve been too starved to think straight, you are going to let me do this,” Azriel cut across her calmly. “You are more than likely to burn yourself.”

“Don’t the flames bother you?” She asked him quietly. He froze.

Nobody else had ever asked him. They had just expected him to be over it by now. He had 500 years to be over it. His hands clenched.

“Yes,” he answered quietly. “They still do.” It was the honest truth. A truth he never told anyone before, least of all someone like her. The shadows curled around his shoulders and arms as if to calm him down. The flames still bothered him. They always would. “But I learnt to deal with it a long time ago,” he continued.

“That’s not fair to you,” Zahra said, her voice quiet. “You are always the one in discomfort. And nobody cares.”

Her words hit him square in the gut. It was true. It was painfully true. He was always the one being uncomfortable. Always the one on edge. It had always been expected of him to be over it by now, the pain and the hurt. The fear and the bitterness.

He finished building the fire. Using a match to light it carefully, then closing the door quickly.

“I can deal with it,” he answered quietly. “You should go to sleep,” he advised her.

“So should you,” Zahra told him just as quietly. “You look terrible.“ He knew he looked like crap. But that didn’t matter.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, brushing off her comment. Even though he knew it was a lie. Even though he knew they were both terrible at taking care of themselves.

“You are a terrible liar,” she quipped. He looked at her and was surprised to see a tiny smile on her face.

“And you’re a very stubborn, very stupid, very annoying woman,” he quipped back just as quietly.

The smile on her face broadened the tiniest bit at the comment. “I could say the same about you,” she shot back.

“Sleep,” he told her again.

And then he left that little cottage to get back to the House of Wind. He didn’t bother winnowing, instead, he shot up into the sky with one flap of his mighty wings. He wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway.

His mind was whirling as he flew back to the House of Wind. So much had happened in the last few hours and it was all still a lot to process.

He had always been good at keeping a rein on his thoughts and his emotions. But this time, he simply couldn’t.

Zahra and him, always on the outskirts of their family. Ignored and expected to get on with it.

They were so similar in so many ways. It was shocking to realize just how much they actually had in common.

The loneliness and solitude he had come to live with, she had experienced herself. The pain and the bitterness, he could recognize it on her, for he had felt it himself.

Where are you, Az? Rhys demanded at that moment mentally. Azriel would like to scratch out his eyes, but he didn’t.

I’m flying back to the House, he sent back curtly. Zahra had a headache, so I brought her home.

A headache, Rhys shot back incredulously. Azriel could almost see the look on his High Lord’s face. You really think I will buy that?

I don’t care if you believe me or not, Azriel responded icily, his temper rising already at the tone. It is the truth and I really don’t wish to have a discussion over it.

There was a pause in Rhys’ mind. Then a slight huff. You can be so unbelievably stubborn sometimes, you know that?

Azriel didn’t bother reacting to that.

Elain and Lucien are figuring things out. So keep away from her, Rhys told him sharply.

I am keeping away from her, Azriel shot back, irritation flaring. You really think I will go and ruin this for her?

I don’t know what you are up to, Rhys retorted, and Azriel knew the High Lord was irritated. But I really don’t have the time to deal with your crap right now. That’s an order.

Understood, High Lord, Azriel snarled back and he felt Rhys chuckle in his mind at the tone. I will keep away from your precious Elain, I promise.

Damn right you will, he heard Rhys mutter in his mind and the mental connection between the two of them snapped close.

Azriel snarled in irritation as he landed on his balcony and stalked into his room. It wasn’t enough that he was wrestling with his own emotions, No, he also had Rhys all up his ass about it.

And he was infuriated about the whole thing.

Nobody will suddenly show up and care, he has told Zahra. It was the truth. Nobody would care.

They only cared as long as they got what they wanted from him.

Chip away the pieces they didn’t like. Mould him into a person they could stomach.

Either it was Rhys ordering to keep away from Elain…or ordering him to behave around Mor and Emerie… and to be quite honest…Azriel was done.

It was always him that needed to bend to make everybody else comfortable. Nobody bends for him.

So many years of following orders, of keeping his mouth shut, of bottling up the anger.

Even when everyone around him was getting what they wanted. They got their happily ever after. And he was left behind. Not once did someone ever realize that he was struggling. Not once did someone notice that he needed something…anything. That he was hurting and in pain. Nobody even bothered to check on him, to ask how he was doing.

They all got what they wanted. Mor, Emerie, even Feyre. They all got the mate that they wanted. Rhys, Cassian and even Amren had Varian.

He was the one always helping everyone else. Always the one having to endure everything. Never anything for himself. No love for himself.

Orders, commands, demands…that’s all it ever was. He didn’t get a say in anything. They just expected him to be fine. And if he wasn’t…he had to push through it.

He was the tool that did whatever needed to be done. The spy that got the order to do the dirty work. The shadowsinger that just had to endure everything.

All for scraps of attention.

Azriel was done.

He was so done. With everything. With everyone. With the one-sided affection that he had given in a desperate attempt to feel…something, anything….

He needed to stop expecting to get anything from them.

Zahra did not. She seemed to have given that up a very long time ago

The cold realization that they had been doing the same to her hit him. She was also the tool they used when they needed it. She may not be a spy, but they used her just the same. Expected her to be fine.

She was alone just as much as he was.

Alone and isolated, an afterthought to their family just as much as he was.

***

It was quiet in the little cottage.

Peaceful.

Comfortable.

Sie should be happy. Or at the very least…she should be content, should she not?.

Zahra had a roof over her head. And if she wanted to…she could afford food.

Her job didn’t pay that well, but it wouldn’t leave her starving. She just wasn’t hungry. She seemingly never was.

That was a lie and she knew it. Deep down she was hungry all the time. She just refused to give in to eating. She refused to listen to her body screaming for sustenance. It didn’t matter, anyway. Nobody cared.

She didn’t care.

Something inside her had broken during her bath in that cauldron. Her humanity had burned away and with that…with that everything Zahra had ever wanted.

She didn’t crave anything anymore. Not love. Not affection. Not attention. Not food. It was all gone. All she felt was numb.

Cold, empty and numb. Like her shell had hardened and frozen over.

She had never thought it was possible to feel so damn tired without having done anything.

Zahra forced herself to get up. Forced herself to heat some water on the stove… to make tea. The cheapest tea she had been able to find at the market.

It wasn’t the best. The taste was bitter and the color was more brown than black. But it was tea and she was thirsty enough to drink it.

It wasn’t very warm and left a bitter aftertaste on the tongue. Like her life itself.

Maybe just dying would have been easier, she reflected bitterly. Was this how eternity would feel? Alone? Tucked away in this cottage?

All her sisters had been given a mating bond. They had been given another person who loved them unconditionally…that was at their side. That wanted them around. That wanted to spent time with them.

And then there was her.

She had been closest to Feyre during the years in that cottage. Nesta gave her the fault for seemingly everything htat had ever gone wrong in her life, though Zahra privately thought that for Nesta, Zahra was just the evidence of another of her father’s failings…Elain…well, Elain was more embarrassed than anything about Zahra’s very existence. But Feyre…well, Feyre hadn’t cared. And so Zahra had tried to dote on her as much as she could.

And then clearly she had been replaced in Feyre’s affections.

She didn’t fault her for that.

Feyre had made her own life. And she had every right to do that. She was busy with her mate and her son and Mor was her best friend and…there was seemingly no place for Zahra there.

Which was fine.

It was.

But if Zahra was completely honest with herself…she was unspeakably jealous of the mating bond of every single one of her sisters.

Of that promise of at least one person that would be on her side, come Hel or High Water.

Clearly, something was wrong with her that she hadn’t been given a Mating Bond.

She wasn’t worth a mate. Clearly, something was broken inside her. Otherwise, the cauldron would have given her a mate, right?

Maybe she was broken so thoroughly that nobody even wanted her.

Why would they? She was a shell of a person, a ghost of the woman she was supposed to be.

She was cold, empty and numb. Everything that nobody could possibly want.

Everyone else got a mate, love and happiness. Not her.

She had nothing.

Her hands clenched around her lukewarm cup of tea.

Some random sparks of light sparked against the mug. A gift from the cauldron. They didn’t seem to do anything but warm whatever they touched. Maybe that was that random power the cauldron had given her. Neither future or death…but…warmth. She supposed it was something.

She wasn’t quite sure what to do with it, and she had never bothered telling anybody about it.

Sometimes she allowed herself to play with them when she couldn’t sleep. They were strange and utterly useless.

It wasn’t the power of foresight or the power of a death god…no. She had the stupid power to create sparks. Useless sparks of light.

Oh well.

Complaining about her sparks wasn’t going to help her either.

So she pulled out her work and sat down to do her work as the sun came up and the day went on.

Zahra balanced the account ledgers for one of the apothecaries in Velaris. Which meant she had a whole box of receipts to sort through and put into said ledger.

One receipt at a time, one name after the other.

It kept her busy. It paid well enough. She seemed to have some kind of aptitude for it…maybe the fact that her father was a merchant had come through for once.

She worked until the late evening. Until her eyes couldn’t concentrate on the numbers anymore.Until her back and shoulders ached with pain. She stretched her shoulders back.

She wondered if she should eat something. Her cheese was gone, thanks to Azriel standing over her until she ate it…but she still had one or two slices of bread, didn’t she?

She could go food shopping…buy another bread, another chunk of cheese tomorrow.

Then Zahra heard a knock on the door.

Confusion spread through her. Who would knock on her door at that very late hour? It was after 9 pm already.

She got up, walked towards the door and opened it carefully.

It was the last person she would expected to be standing on the front porch. Azriel.

“I am making you dinner.“

Her eyes widened at that announcement. “You are what?” she asked him dumbly.

He just gave her a deadpan look and pushed past her. “I am cooking dinner because I am assuming that you haven’t eaten yet,” he told her plainly.

It was true. Zahra hadn’t eaten a proper meal in god knows how long. But why did he care?? “Why?” she blurted out. “Why do you care if I’ve eaten?”

He gave her a sharp look and pushed her towards the kitchen chair. “Sit down,” he simply ordered and she was too taken aback to protest against it.

He had brought his own ingredients. His own knives, all tucked away in a little basket that he put on her countertop. “Can you peel potatoes?” He asked her as he rummaged through it.

She could just stare at him.

“Who do you think cooked the meat Feyre hunted?” Zahra replied drily.

Azriel froze in the process of digging something out of the basket on the counter. “You can cook?” he asked her and she heard the surprise in his voice.

Zahra let out a snort. “Yes, I can cook,” she retorted. “What did you think I was doing this whole time in the cottage? Twiddling my thumbs?”

He shrugged. “Honestly, I had no idea what you were up to,” he told her truthfully. “I thought you were as useless as Elain and Nesta were at that point,” he admitted.

“Nesta did all the cleaning and hacked the wook,” Zara corrected him quietly. “Elain mended. I cooked. Feyre was the only one who hunted. And yes, we should have done more, but I did help run the household. The only one who never helped was our father.” The bitterness bled into her voice at that.

There was a long pause after her admission. Then Azriel exhaled. “I guess I shouldn’t be as surprised as I am,” he muttered. “You don’t strike me as a pampered useless damsel.”

“Thank you for that assessment, Shadowsinger,” she quipped back. “I will make sure to remember it when I need a pick-me-up.”

He put a sack of potatoes in front of her. “I take it I’m peeling potatoes,” Zahra murmured, staring at the sack that was in front of her.

“Yes,” Azriel confirmed in that no-nonsense voice of his. “While I prep the meat. I do hope you like rabbit,” he added drily.

“Oh good,” she muttered, grabbing a knife and started to peel away at the potatoes. “Did you hunt it?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, his voice neutral. Zahra bit back a snarky remark and focused on the potatoes.

They worked like that in silence. Him preparing the meat, her peeling the potatoes and the carrots.

It was odd. This whole thing was odd. Sitting and cooking with Azriel. She hadn’t even known he could cook.

And yet…it was comfortable. Like the silence wasn’t awkward and neither of them felt the need to break it. It was a comfortable domestic kind of silence. Like they had done this a thousand times before.

“How are you with spicy food?” Azriel asked her after he had taken the potatoes from her.

Zahra blinked in surprise. “I have a pretty good tolerance, why?” she asked, curious.

“All the food I can cook is Illyrian,” Azriel answered drily. “I learned from Rhys’ mother and later from my own. It’s spicy.”

“I can handle a bit of spice,” she assured him. “It should be fine.” He nodded in response.

The sound of the fire crackling in the stove and him stirring up the meat were the only sounds filling the kitchen as they continued their work.

Zahra honestly had no idea Azriel could cook. He didn’t seem like the type of male who spent time cooped up in the kitchen, making meals. It was a little surprising.

And yet, the scents of spices and rabbit were filling her kitchen right now... It smelled almost heavenly.

She hadn’t smelled something as heavenly in a long time. And her stomach growled in response to the delicious scents of food. Zahra tried to remember when she’d last eaten something actually decent, but she couldn’t think straight. The food was distracting her.

“You look half starved,” Azriel observed in a deadpanned tone and she snapped her head up only to find him looking at her.

His eyes were focused on her, a frown playing on his forehead. “When was the last time you actually ate something properly?” he asked her, his voice firm.

She averted her gaze. “I don’t know,” she muttered, looking away from him and to the pot bubbling on the stove. “Maybe a week ago?”

He was silent for a moment. “That long?” he asked her, his voice carefully neutral. She just shrugged in response to keep herself from admitting that she actually couldn’t remember exactly.

He poured hot, thick stew into a bowl for her and then put it in front of her, holding out cutlery for her to take. “Why are you doing this?” Zahra asked him weakly.

“Because I wish somehow had done it for me,” Azriel responded

That simple statement made her blink in surprise. It was not an answer she had been expecting. She bit her lip, not really sure what to say.

And then he simply said. “Eat. You look like you’d blow away at the slightest breeze.”

She should have been angered by that blunt statement, but somehow she wasn’t.

So Zahra ate.

The food tasted incredibly good. She had to admit that the Shadowsinger was talented with cooking. The food was spiced just perfectly, hot and filled with flavour.

Every bite made her realize just how incredibly hungry she was. Her stomach filled slowly and the hunger abated with every spoonful. It was like her insides started to come back to life. The numbness was slowly disappearing, replaced by an odd sort of warmth flowing through her limbs.

"Thank you," she finally said weakly.

Azriel just nodded at her, watching her eat. “Of course,” he murmured and continued with his own food.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #Azriel x Archeron!Reader #Stars all aligned

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azrielbrainrot · 1 month ago

Text

A Night To Remember

Pairing: Rhysand x F!Reader

Kinktober 2024: Virginity

Description: Rhysand takes your virginity.

Warnings: Smut, fingering, vaginal sex, virgin reader, hint of oral sex, dirty talk

Word Count: ~2,8k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Notes: Rhysand is pretty young in this, I'm not exactly sure how fae aging works but I was thinking he had left the Illyrian training camps a couple years before this and was just starting to work more in court with his dad, so he would be like 21/22 in human years. Reader is about his age, maybe a bit younger. Hope you enjoy!

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

“Rhysand,” you whimper, your brain struggling to keep up while the Night Court heir leaves open mouthed kisses all over your neck. “I need to tell you something.”

The only sign he even heard you was the delayed hum he lets out as he's switching to the other side of your throat, marking up your soft skin, pushing one of his knees between your legs, hands grabbing at your hips, both of your scents deepening and mixing deliciously.

This isn't good. You had gotten too lost in the moment, too lost in his taste and the way his strong hands felt on your body. As soon as the heir started flirting with you by the bar, you told yourself that you wouldn't miss this opportunity because of your nerves once again, but you wanted to do this right.

You call out his name again, and this time he pulls away from your neck, a bit of worry visible in his enchanting violet eyes, fighting past the haziness as he stares into yours, your hands come up to cup his cheeks, almost pulling him into you once again, hoping to get at least one more taste in case he stops like so many others have before.

“I need to tell you something,” you repeat, tongue peaking out to wet your lips.

“Do you want to stop?”

“No, that's not it,” you rush out, taking a deep breath, unable to meet his eyes as the next words tumble out of your mouth, “I'm a virgin.”

Still staring at the wall on the other side of the room, suddenly entranced by the golden pattern painted on the dark wall, you try your best to keep your heart from racing, breathing in and out slowly. You weren't sure what his exact reaction had been, apart from the way he tenses against you before relaxing once more, but old memories flooded your mind.

This wasn't the first time you had to tell someone these same words, and seeing as you were still a virgin, it was safe to say this conversation usually took a turn for the worst, whether it came as weird sympathy or cruel remarks. You didn't think Rhysand was the type to push you away simply because you were inexperienced, which was one of the reasons why you had let him take you home, still you had thought the same of every other male who came this far and they had proved you wrong rather quickly.

It had never been your intention to wait for this long, but since you had been so busy with working and studying in your younger years, the time for dating had been next to none, and by the time you realized you might have waited too long, all your peers were already in relations or at least sexually active.

“Are you sure?” His question pulls you out of your thoughts, meeting his eyes instinctively. You don't find any anger or disinterest there much to your relief, only a hint of confusion and a seriousness that hadn't been there before.

“Yes, I'm sure. I never-”

He laughs, cutting you off before you can finish. A strange feeling rises within you, humiliation starting to spread and fear making itself known once again. He leans in and pecks your lips when he notices you tensing up against him, soothing you immediately.

“I'm asking if you're sure you want me to fuck you,” he clarifies with a smirk on his face, and you relax further into him, face heating up at the mistake, “Maybe you should wait for a serious relationship or someone special.”

He meant well, you know that, but you can't help but get a bit annoyed all the same. It was because you had waited for so long that you were in this situation. Life was unpredictable and so were people, especially males, waiting around for someone special to come around could very well mean waiting for the rest of your life. Right now the fact that he wanted you as much as you wanted him and he was treating you with respect was special enough for you.

“Did you wait for someone special?”

“No,” he admits, shaking his head. “Doesn't mean you shouldn't.”

“I don't want to wait, I want you,” you say, pulling him in for a kiss, a shiver running down your spine when he simply angles his head and lets you take control, thumb rubbing slow circles over your thigh as you taste him, one hand holding the back of his neck as the other wandered down. You thought you would have to convince him, but it seems he believed you on your first try.

Rhysand pulls away right when you were about to start unbuttoning his shirt, wrapping an arm around your waist and taking a step back, winnowing you to a different room in doing so. He takes off his own shirt as you look around, unable to hide the amazement on your face at the intricate paintings and ostentatious furniture. You were so caught up in your nerves that you had almost forgotten who he was.

“We're not in my father's house if that's what you're wondering.”

You turn to look at him wide eyed, the absolute horror of getting caught by the High Lord rushing over you even though it was all in your imagination. While you were sure the rumors spreading around your home court were exaggerated, his father didn't have a particularly kind reputation even in his own court either.

“I hadn't even thought of that,” you murmur, taking his hand when he reaches for you, letting him pull you in closer with a chuckle, dropping a chaste kiss to your lips, clearly ready to end the conversation about his father. He starts walking you backwards towards the bed, watching with endearment as your eyes travel over the marks over his chest and down his shoulders, humming when you muster up the courage to reach out and trace the inked skin.

When you get to the bed, he grabs the hem of your dress, lifting it up and over your head with your help, hands falling on your waist as you kick off your shoes as well, tucking your thumbs into the band of your underwear, only hesitating for a second before pushing them down your legs and letting them fall on the floor as well, baring yourself to him completely.

Hungry eyes roam over your body, feasting on the beautiful sight in front of him, taking his time before meeting your gaze once again, your heart beating loudly in your chest at all the attention and desire you find written in the violet, goosebumps spreading over your skin as if he was actually touching you.

“I suppose I should apologize in advance,” he purred, taking a step closer to you, making you angle your neck further back to keep eye contact.

“Why?”

“Because I'm about to ruin every other male for you.”

If this was anyone else you would have probably cringed at the arrogance, but you knew the future High Lord meant every word. It was plain to see in the unbelievable amount of power rumbling under his skin, in the way he held onto you, attentive but intentional, in the raw hunger written in his eyes.

His lips were on yours before you could react, pushing you down onto the mattress gently and falling over your body, positioning himself between your legs. Strong hands caressed your breasts as he trailed kisses down your neck, going back to nibbling on the skin just as he had been doing before you interrupted him downstairs.

Fingers tangle themselves in his hair, breathy moans escaping your mouth unattended as he expertly played with your body until you were melting over the soft duvet. His hand starts traveling lower when he feels the last bit of tension leaving your body, strangely attuned to your needs even though you had just met. You spread your thighs further apart when he reaches your cunt, staring into his eyes when he pulls away from your neck in favor of watching you.

“Need to get you ready,” he whispers, coating his fingers in your wetness before circling your entrance, smirking at the way your body trembles under him.

“Please,” you whimper, hips bucking up into his fingers, desire running through your veins like you had never felt before.

Rhysand chuckles down at you, coaxing one of his fingers inside you carefully. “You don't have to beg, darling. I'll give you anything you want today,” he whispers against your lips, biting the plump flesh as needy moans escape you.

You've used your fingers to pleasure yourself before, but his were much bigger and he knew exactly how to work them in to make you see stars. Hands falling on his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as he adds another finger, scissoring them inside you slowly, stretching you out patiently, circling your clit with his thumb softly all the while.

It was no surprise that you were already getting close, walls fluttering around his fingers as he did his best to swallow your soft whimpers and sweet pleas, not giving you a chance to breathe as you fell apart beneath him, a shudder running through you as his name escaped your lips.

Rhysand whispers praises in your ear, dropping kisses all over your face and chest, only stopping when it didn't sound like your heart was trying to fight its way out through your chest and your eyes flutter open.

“Still with me?”

You nod up at him, hand cupping his cheek and bringing his lips down to meet yours once again, you don't think you'd ever tire of kissing him even if you did a million times. Rhysand hums into your mouth, sucking on your tongue playfully as he pulls away, getting up to take the rest of his clothes off.

Sitting up so you could watch him properly, your eyes follow his movements as if in a trance. You couldn't help but linger on his cock, taking in the tremble that runs through him as he strokes it once in front of you. Your own hands grip onto the duvet, wondering what he would feel like.

“You can touch me,” he purrs, half lidded eyes almost begging you to, groaning when your hand reaches for him, mimicking the movement.

Surprisingly, there were no signs of nerves as you stroked his cock, only desire and curiosity running through your veins. He seemed more than content with letting you play with him, even praising you when you did something he liked. It makes you feel bolder, having all this control over him of all people. Leaning forward, you take the head of his cock into your mouth, wanting to know what he felt like on your tongue, what he tasted like.

Rhysand lets out a particularly loud moan, not expecting you to do such a thing, looking down at you proudly, his characteristic smirk growing.

“We'll have to leave that for next time,” he starts, pushing your head away carefully, “I need to fuck you now, alright?”

“Next time?”

He hums, pushing you back against the bed, laying down over you, taking your bottom lip between his. “There's still a lot I can show you.”

“Oh.” You didn't know what to say. Never in a million years did you think you'd be in Rhysand's bed, let alone that he'd want you back. Wrapping your arms around him, you pull him as close as physically possible, shivering at the feeling of his hard muscles against your soft flesh, your breasts pressed against his chest, his cock weighing on your stomach.

He positions himself at your entrance, never breaking the kiss, relaxing your body with every stroke of his tongue against yours, every soft caress down your body. You do your best to breathe through it all, accommodating him between your thighs, trembling at the feeling of his hard cock grinding over your cunt, coating himself in your juices.

“Tell me if it hurts or if you want me to stop,” he murmurs, pecking your lips before continuing, “I promise I'll take care of you.”

It might sound silly but in that moment you could have followed him anywhere. The sincerity and care reflected in his eyes almost took your breath away, finding yourself staring into them like an anchor as he started pushing inside you, mouth opening in a silent moan at the foreign feeling.

You had been prepared to feel almost unbearable pain, remembering the stories your friends told you of their own first times and advice they've given you, but aside from an uncomfortable pinch and strange sensation, you could only feel the promise of pleasure.

“Good?” His voice was deeper, clearly affected as he held himself back from thrusting into your warm, tight cunt. You nod and kiss him, hoping it's answer enough, wrapping your legs around him, needing to feel him deeper. Rhysand keeps pushing his cock into you carefully, slowing down anytime your body tenses even a bit, until he finally settles inside you, his hips flush with the back of your thighs.

His hands travel all over your body, mouth still moving against yours, distracting you from any pain or discomfort that you might feel. Your own hands kept caressing up and down his back, feeling the hard muscles ripple under your touch, tracing the small scars you found along the way.

Holding each other so close it was almost impossible to see where one ended and the other began, you felt a fire lighting on the pit of your stomach, a needy pleasure spreading over your veins to every inch of your body, legs tightening around him.

“Rhysand-”

“Can I move?” He asks against your lips, forearm braced right next to your head as he grinds into you once experimentally, humming when you whimper into his mouth. “Want me to fuck you? Want to feel my cock stretching out your tight little cunt?”

“Please,” you breathe out, a long drawn out moan escaping you when he complies, pulling his cock out and pushing it back in, eyes never straying from yours.

He sets up a slow pace, going in impossibly deep, hitting all the spots that make you see stars, trailing wet kisses down your jaw and neck until he reaches your chest, sucking a nipple into his mouth as your head falls back against the duvet, eyes falling shut in bliss.

You almost want to curse yourself for waiting this long, for being too focused on your work to experience this, but you're also eternally grateful that you waited for him, there was no doubt in your mind that he was the perfect person for this. You feel him smirking against your chest, hips never stopping as he lets go of your nipple with a pop.

He lets you pull him into another short kiss, violet eyes staring into yours, hovering over your face, only a breath away as he keeps going, speeding up a bit, going harder as you struggled to keep eye contact, damn near purring at the way you trembled and your walls fluttered around his cock.

Time seemed to stop as you got lost in his eyes, in the pleasure he was bringing you, only noticing how close to the edge you already were when you were about to fall. A rushed warning tumbles past your lips as you descend into madness, his hips grinding into you as shivers run through your body and moans of his name echo around the room, every nerve on your body alive with pleasure.

He fucks you through your orgasm, grinding into your cunt and cooing at your fucked out expression until his hips start faltering, going in deeper as his own high reaches him, barely pulling out of you in time, stroking his cock maddeningly as rope after rope of cum falls on your stomach and chest, his own needy moans filling the room this time.

Chests rising and falling, both of you do your best to catch your breaths and fall back down to earth. Swallowing down the dryness in your throat, you open your eyes to find him mesmerized by the way his cum paints your torso, one hand pushing his sticky hair out of his forehead as a drop trickles down your breast.

A devious thought crosses your mind. Reaching down your body, you gather a bit of his cum with your finger, bringing it up to your lips as his eyes follow the movement, moaning at his taste and the hunger in his eyes, smirking at the curse that he lets out. You reach down again, wanting to repeat the action when he catches your hand, stopping you so he can do it himself, feeding you his cum on his own fingers, cursing as you clean them up happily.

“I think I'm going to keep you, darling,” he declares, eyes fixed on your mouth as you lick your lips.

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” he breathes out, leaning down to kiss you. “You're all fucking mine now.”

#rhysand x reader #rhysand smut #rhysand x you #rhysand x y/n #rhys smut #rhys x reader #acotar smut #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar kinktober

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grison-in-space · 6 months ago

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I'm genuinely sorry, I was really tired and couldn't think of the word that mad pride movements use. I'm new to all of this. I thought you would be more open to it because you've reblogged from radical leftists (anarchists and communists both) within the past couple of weeks and they're all for Veganism afaik. The argument that all brains are different but equal and should be treated the exact same is a primary aspect of mad pride from my understanding, and that speaks to me about animals just having different brains, and that they don't deserve to be exploited and killed for us just because they're different. I'm not spamming people with it, but I was inspired by an ask by a nonvegan and started asking popular bloggers why they weren't vegan to open up conversation and potentially change people's views on animals. If I've made you uncomfortable I'm sorry, though I admit I'm really confused by your standpoint. You do know that the only reason communism hasn't succeeded is because of America? Anyway, sorry again, I'm also autistic and I didn't mean to dismiss your legitimate dietary needs. Can I recommend acti-vegan's posts? While I understand that you can't go vegan, perhaps their blog will at least help you understand our points, they're much more well-written than my asks and they have plenty of legitimate science resources at hand. Thanks for listening, I'll take your advice into account. I'm not trying to not listen, it's just frustrating because so many people say they get it but they don't change, and if they truly got it they would, you know?

Okay, I get that you didn't mean to be offensive, and fuck knows I shouldn't throw stones when it comes to forgetting specific words. (This happens to me fairly frequently; it's a thing.)

The argument that all brains are different but equal and should be treated the exact same is a primary aspect of mad pride from my understanding, and that speaks to me about animals just having different brains, and that they don't deserve to be exploited and killed for us just because they're different.

So yesterday I actually wrote out and then deleted a whole paragraph to the effect of "part of my deep, deep frustration with animal rights activism hooks into my commitment to the phrase 'nothing about us without us,' because I frequently see the same kinds of emotional projection without making the effort to listen to animals on their own terms from animal rights activism groups."

The first thing I need to make clear to you is that this--veganism and animal rights activism (ARA) more generally--is not new to me. I am in my mid-thirties and I have never had a job of any kind that did not revolve around animals in some way, I've spent time in rescue spaces and vets and universities, I'm queer and I have spent most of my life in leftish progressive circles, so it's kind of hard to miss.

Essentially, you are proselytizing to me as if you were a newly baptized evangelical convinced I had never heard of Jesus, because if only I had heard and understood his holy word, I would be converted instantly to his light! It's not any less irritating when the belief system isn't explicitly a religion.

More under the cut, because this one is long.

Disclaimer one: Veganism isn't synonymous with ARA ideology, but it's deeply entangled with it, and ARA ideology drives the movement of veganism as a (theoretically non-religious) ethical decision. And I object very strongly to the framework imposed by ARA activists. When I say I am not vegan, I am saying that I have considered the ethical framework that underpins veganism as an ethics movement and I have deliberately rejected it.

The second piece of context you should know that when I talk about being a behavioral ecologist, I mean that I'm a researcher who works on animals and that my framework is rooted in trying to understand animals in their own natural ecological context, without necessarily comparing them to humans. There's a lot of ways to study animal behavior you might run into, including attempts to understand universal principles of behavior that transcend species (animal cognition) and attempts to understand how to better treat animals in human care (animal welfare). You know Temple Grandin? Temple Grandin is an ethologist (the field that gave rise to behavioral ecology, also focused on animals within their species context) who worked on animal welfare (finding ways to make slaughterhouses less stressful to livestock, among other things).

Third point: my profession also means is that I work directly with animals--in my case, currently mice--and that I do not think research with animal subjects is wrong as long as all efforts are made to ensure maximal welfare and enrichment for the animals involved. This is another major bone of contention politically between my entire field and ARA groups, and you should know that I have also spent my entire professional career under the shadow of, well, people who care strongly enough about those ideas to invade my workspace and potentially seize my animals and "free" them into a world they do not have the tools to survive in.

So there's where I am coming from. Let's get back to what you're saying. Here, I'll quote again in case you have the same crappy short-term memory I do.

Point the first: Even within humans, I don't think that all brains should be treated the exact same. Especially in a disability context! After all, what is an accommodation if not an agreement to treat someone differently because they need certain things to access a space? Accommodations by definition fly in the face of this "treating everyone the same" understanding of fairness. I think all (human) brains are equally valuable, and I think all brains are worthy of respect, but I do not think that it's wise or kind of me to assert that everyone should be treated in the same way. For one thing, I teach students. If there's one thing teaching has taught me, it's that a good teacher is constantly assessing and adjusting their instruction to meet students where they're at, identify failures of understanding, and keep the attention of the classroom.

Point the second: animals do have different brains from humans. That does not mean that animals are inferior, but it does mean that they are alien. There's a philosophy paper, Nagel, What Does It Mean to Be a Bat, that you might find illuminating on this front. Essentially, the point of the paper is that animals have their own experiences and sensory umwelts that differ profoundly enough from humans' that we cannot know what it is like to be a different species without experiencing life as one, and therefore we must be terribly careful not to project our own realities onto theirs. That is, our imagination cannot tell us what a bat values and what it experiences. That is why we have to use careful evidence to understand what an animal is thinking, without relying on our ability to identify with and comprehend that animal. I have watched ARA groups deliberately encourage people to shut their reasoning brains off and emotionally identify themselves with animals without considering within-species context for twenty years. This is a mainstream tactic. It is not an isolated event and for that reason alone I would be opposed to them.

Point the third: there is a definite tendency in lots of people to care deeply and intensely about both animals and people who are seen as "lesser" in status--children, poor people, disabled people, etc--just as long as those groups never contradict the good feelings that come from the helper's own assessment of themselves and their actions. In humans, when the "needy" point out that some forms of help are actually harmful, the backlash is often swift and vicious. This is why animals are such an appealing target of support and intervention. They can't speak back and say "in fact, you are projecting my love of this frilly pink tutu onto me, and I think it's uncomfortable and prevents me from walking." They can't say "I kind of like it better when I don't have to worry about getting hit by a car, actually?"

(By the way: this is also why it's offensive to compare disabled people to animals, because this is generally done at least in part to silence the voices of disabled people speaking for our selves and our communities. We have access to language, and we use it, thank you.)

All forms of animal welfare intervention going right back to the founding of the first RSPCA have been incredibly prone to being hijacked by classist, racist, and otherwise bigoted impulses. This is because animals offer an innocent face for defense that conveniently cannot criticize the actions taken by their champions, and they therefore provide a great excuse for actions taken against marginalized members of human society. Think about the very first campaign the RSPCA ever did, which was banning using dogs as draft animals: a use that is not inherently harmful to dogs, which many dogs actively enjoy, but also one that was specifically used by poor Londoners and which in fact immediately resulted in a great butchery of the dogs that Londoners could no longer afford to feed rather than allowing poor people and their dogs to continue working together. No one was, of course, challenging the particular uses of dogs or any other animal favored by the wealthy. This kind of thing is so, so, so common. Obviously it doesn't mean that all interventions to prioritize animal welfare are inherently bigoted, but it does mean that we have to be critical about our choice of challenges.

On top of everything, the animal rights activist movement's obsession with "exploitation" is a function of the idea that humans are sinful or otherwise Bad in how we interact with animals by definition. For example, take the chicken rescue near me that is so obsessed with the possibility that some human somewhere might benefit from an animal in their care that they implant every hen they adopt out with hormonal implants such that the hens no longer lay eggs--a function that is normally a natural byproduct of a chicken's reproductive system, fertilized or not. A mutualistic relationship involves both parties benefiting, and that is the case for an awful lot of human relationships with animals. In general, the idea that associating with animals is a thing that can only harm animals rather than being a trade between two species to enrich one another is all over these groups. It's just so myopically focused on human shame that it prevents practical interventions that might benefit everyone, and often promotes interventions that don't directly benefit animals but sure do make humans miserable. For example, this kind of thinking is why groups like PETA are absolutely awful at effectively rescuing unwanted dogs and cats: they think pets living in "bondage" with humans are an essentially sad outcome, rather than one that might be mutually enjoyed by all parties.

I'm tired and my meds haven't kicked in, so I'm not currently going to handle the communism thing except to point out that while the US absolutely did destabilize a number of leftist regimes in South America and Africa, Russia and China between them have certainly not treated their own people kindly, either (and more so their own client-nations, as with the former members of the USSR). Please do some reading about the Holodomor and Lysenko in Russia (and frankly all of the details of Stalin's regime) and the Cultural Revolution in China in particular. Khmer Rouge might be worth looking into, too. I am not saying the US's hands are clean, you understand, because they are not; they're as steeped in red as anyone else's. What I am saying is that for people living on the ground, communist revolutions have this nasty habit of turning into bloodbaths and arbitrary slaughters. Do not let your distaste for the US's bloodsoaked imperialism (which, yes, is and was bad) let you fall into the trap of becoming a tankie.

And if you don't know what a tankie is, you really, really should take some time to learn.

#animal welfare #just #don't do this #when someone says “no”#please fucking listen #there's another essay in me somewhere on the painfully obvious sublimated dynamics picked up from Christianity all over this movement #but I do actually have work to do today including that ventral pallidum post I have been poking at

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ckret2 · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter 63 of human Bill Cipher trying to debate his way out of still being the Mystery Shack's prisoner. Soos has found the stolen Journal 4 in Bill's possession and has to decide what to do about it in light of everything else he's learned about Bill lately.

[*you may notice chapter 61 is missing! This plot was done sooner, so I'll be posting chapter 61 sometime after 64. It's not chronological so you're not missing anything!]

Soos stared dumbfounded at the journal with a 4 on the cover that he'd pulled from Bill's hiding place. Ford had lost Journal 4 last fall—he'd said gnomes had stolen it. How in the world had Bill gotten it?

Soos sat in the attic window seat and flipped through it. The first few pages were Ford's journal entries—his observations of the dimensional rips they were glueing shut in Gravity Falls post-Weirdmageddon, a hand-drawn map highlighting various places around the globe he wanted to investigate, a few drawings and observations of paranormal beings he hadn't seen his first time in town, half a sketch of a gnome that ended with a jagged scribble across the page followed by a page that said "Shmebulock" over and over.

And then a page that said, in an unfamiliar handwriting of jagged, narrow gray letters: "CURSED BOOK! If your name is Mabon Mason Pines, STOP READING NOW or ENJOY YOUR HEX!"

Bill had written page after page of some weird code of gray and yellow-green dots and dashes. A few sentences in English—every one of them was a threatening message to Ford. "Everything would have been fantastic if you'd just helped me finish, Fordsy." "You'll regret not siding with me when you had the chance." "You should have known better than to let your idiot brother turn you against me." "Sixer, you're lying to yourself every time you say you never worshiped me, and you know it. You spent the first third of your life running away from the god you were raised with and the second third chasing after me. Don't waste your last third denying it. YOU'RE MINE." A small, worrying diagram of what looked like the interdimensional portal. And a sticker.

Wait, hold on.

A sticker. One of Mabel's. The rest of the page was the same as the others, the two-tone dots and dashes, except for the sticker, and an arrow drawn from one paragraph to the sticker.

A yellow smiley, its round edges filled in with black marker to make a triangle, over the words "Good job!"

Soos stared at the sticker.

####

A couple of weeks ago, Melody had texted to let Soos know that there was a mess in the upstairs bathroom, and the kids said they'd been fighting a werewolf ghost.

When Soos had gotten home the next morning, Melody had pulled him aside and quietly told him she hadn't wanted to worry him and the Stans, but she did not think it was a werewolf ghost.

When Soos saw the bathroom, he didn't think it was a werewolf ghost either.

It was a scene from a horror movie. Menacing magical sigils painted all over the walls in blood and toothpaste, Bill's zodiac painted on one mirror, the other mirror broken, glass and water all over the floor. It looked like the site of a really wet demon summoning. This contained none of the hallmarks of ghostly or werewolfish activity. Why would Bill do this?

Soos was kind of reluctant to ask Bill. Bill still sorta scared him sometimes. Sure, he looked like a lost 18-year-old, but Soos knew what teens were like in a fight. So he asked Mabel instead.

Mabel pursed her lips uncomfortably. "Ask Dipper."

So Soos asked Dipper.

Dipper winced and. "Promise you won't get mad."

Soos considered that. "Yeah, I guess that's a fair deal."

Dipper confessed that Bill got accidentally locked in the upstairs bathroom for like a whole day, because he and Mabel didn't hear him yelling. Not because they were out of the house when they shouldn't have been. They were just... somewhere else in the house. Doing something loud. For the whole day.

While Bill was trapped alone.

####

Soos had vented to Abuelita about cleaning the bathroom. Like sure, he got Bill was annoyed about being stuck, but that seemed excessive.

Abuelita had made the observation that sometimes people in profoundly bleak and oppressive situations would just... destroy whatever was around them. Like punching a hole in the wall or snapping a pencil when you were angry, but much more so. Not because they wanted their surroundings to be destroyed, but because that was the last and only thing they had power over, and they needed to feel like they were in control of something. Even if that thing was merely changing their environment from ordered to chaotic.

Bill didn't have control over very much. He probably hadn't since he died. Soos didn't know what kind of space triangle afterlife Bill had been in before he showed up as Toga Lady, but it couldn't have been great if he'd come straight back here.

Soos could remember the one time weeks ago he'd let Bill into the bathroom to shower and forgotten to come back and let him out. How Bill had screamed so all the Mystery Shack's tourists could hear; how he'd seethed in Soos's face, how he'd said he'd rather blow their collective cover and throw them all on the mercy of the town's law enforcement than remain locked in the bathroom a second longer than they'd agreed upon. Soos had thought Bill was just impatient and hotheaded.

Standing in the bathroom, looking at the material evidence of Bill's claustrophobic terror—the broken glass, the spilled blood—he wondered.

####

The same day, he had felt a breeze in the gift shop and found the trap doors to the roof left open. He'd climbed up, shut them, and in between tours he'd visited his office to check yesterday's security tapes.

He saw Wendy coming into the shack to hang out the morning before. That was fine. Soos had discovered she did that from time to time on days the shack was closed, but she wasn't doing anything bad and she hadn't brought it up yet, so Soos didn't bring it up either. Maybe she just needed a private place to hang. Teen stuff. He was just glad Wendy felt that safe at the Mystery Shack. Maybe she'd just gone up to hang out on the roof and forgot to shut the trap doors...

And then, right there on screen, Soos saw Bill letting himself into the gift shop, through the door, which he shouldn't be able to open. A chill shot up Soos's back. The door curse was their only real means of containing Bill. If he could use doors now, he was out, there was no way they could trap him without doing something crazy like locking him in the bunker and hoping he didn't kill himself.

Or could he use doors? Soos thought back to the frantic messages on the bathroom wall, written in Bill's own blood—his desperation over being unable to escape. Maybe he could use doors but not doorknobs. That was okay, maybe?

On tape, he saw Wendy run into Bill. He saw Wendy take Bill onto the roof. Out in the open air, where he could just... do whatever. But he didn't do whatever. Soos fast-forwarded the tape until Wendy and Bill came back down, and Bill simply returned to the living room.

He'd had the perfect opportunity to shove Wendy off the roof or escape. He didn't take it.

If all Bill was using his new door skills for was ducking into the gift shop and hanging out on the roof with Wendy, Soos thought maybe it would be kinda mean to take that away from him. There weren't a lot of other places Bill could go in the shack. (Soos kept seeing the blood on the bathroom wall. He kept trying to imagine what kind of helplessness would drive someone that far.) Maybe Bill needed the open air.

So Soos had put the security tape on his desk, not sure what to do about it.

####

A couple of day after that, while Soos was restocking the gift shop in between waves of tourists, he'd seen Wendy reading an oddly dull-looking booklet instead of one of her usual magazines. He tilted his head to glance at the cover. The Oregon state driving manual. "Aw dude, gonna get your learner's permit?"

"Think so," Wendy said. "Don't tell my dad."

Soos remembered Wendy groaning about her dad wrangling her into doing errands if she ever got her license. "Your secret is safe with me."

"Thanks."

"What made you change your mind? You were totally against getting a license a week ago."

"It's probably those stupid Gleeful Auto commercials that have been worming into my dreams." Wendy laughed. "I'm just waking up in the morning like, neeeed caaar."

"Oh yeah! Heh, funny coincidence, Melody says she had a dream like that too. Sometimes she gets these like, dreams about monsters watching her in bed? But one time, the monster was Bud Gleeful, whispering in her ear about a big car sale. She totally woke up laughing!"

"Ha! Annoying car commercials should be banned, man. Why do we need to be told multiple times a day to spend thousands of dollars?"

"You make a salient point."

They fell silent for a moment as Wendy read a couple more paragraphs. Then she said, "That, plus... I was talking to Goldie the other day."

Soos looked up from the t-shirt he'd been putting on a clothes hanger. "Oh. Yeah?"

"About where we wanna go when we get out of town."

"Huh." Very casually, Soos asked, "What did Goldie say?"

"He wants to go on some big vacation. Like a world cruise or something, I dunno."

"Huh." Soos wondered if that was true. He tried to imagine Bill Cipher as a tourist. Floating triangle in a Hawaiian shirt with a camera hanging from a strap and a fanny pack. What kind of places would he even visit? Soos bet he wanted to visit the pyramids. Heh. (Was that stereotyping? Maybe that was stereotyping.)

"And I told him I'm moving to Portland for college."

"Oh, hey, I didn't know you were thinking about college."

"I... actually, never told anybody else before," Wendy said. "I've been thinking about it for years, but part of me felt like it's just a fantasy? But Goldie said when he got out of high school, he did the same thing—moved to another town, made a new group of friends, all that. And... I don't know, actually talking to him out loud about it just... made it feel real, you know? So I thought, if I'm gonna move to Portland, I should probably start planning for it. Starting with how I'm getting there." She held up the driving manual.

Soos nodded slowly. "Huh. Yeah. That's a pretty mature way to look at it."

And that was what Bill was talking to Wendy about on the roof? Just... listening to a teen vent and helping her figure out her future?

And so, Soos took the security tape off his desk and put it in a drawer.

####

A few days later, Soos had heard the downstairs bathroom sink running for several minutes, assumed someone had forgotten to turn it off, and went to turn it off himself—and had caught Bill, in the dark, half undressed, washing himself in the sink.

After Soos had backed out and profusely apologized, he'd asked, "But—how come you're washing in the sink? I can let you in the upstairs bathroom if you need—"

"Worry about your own grooming habits and leave mine alone," Bill snapped. "As long as I don't smell, what do you humans care how I do it. Soap is soap and water is water."

It took Soos several days to realize he didn't think Bill had had a shower since he got locked in the bathroom. And nobody had noticed, because Bill made sure nobody noticed, because he'd been keeping himself clean in the bathroom he couldn't get locked in.

####

Dipper would go all summer without showering if he could get away with it; Stan showered like once a week and had constant old man smell; Abuelita also showered weekly and had a more refined old lady smell; Soos didn't know when Ford showered, but he'd never caught him doing it and Ford always smelled weirdly like burned hair. Soos showered almost daily during tourist season—that Mr. Mystery suit was hot—but outside that might go three days at a time. Mabel showered near daily.

From what Soos had observed, Bill was showering like, at least twice a week. He didn't know how often Bill cleaned himself in the sink in between.

That meant he was showering more often than two-thirds of the house.

Yet he was the only one in the house living under the threat of being thrown in the tub at 3 a.m. if someone decided he hadn't bathed enough for their tastes.

The reason Bill had refused to shower during his first week of imprisonment was so he could use the condition of his body as a bargaining chip—with no physical possessions in the world, his own body was the only bargaining chip he had—to try to buy a little more dignity. In return, his captors had taken more dignity away. They permitted Bill less autonomy over how to take care of his body than the household's children had.

Dipper had never gotten forced into a bathroom he couldn't let himself out of.

####

The day after the eclipse, Ford had pulled Soos aside and said quietly, "Soos, as soon as you have some time—could you repair the door to the kids' room? Before the end of the day? The latch has been broken since the tooth fairy's attack."

"Uh, sure, I can probably do that," Soos said. "How come?" The latch had been broken for a couple weeks, and the Pines hadn't been worried about it before.

"Right now, the door can swing freely with just a push," Ford said. "I think Bill's figured out how to use that to get in. Which is worrisome, since he shouldn't be able to use any doors..."

"O-oh." Soos thought about the swinging door into the gift shop. "Yeah, uh... sounds bad. Byyy the way—how'd you figure out he knows how to use the door?"

"Dipper says Bill somehow got in and out of the room last night," Ford said. "Mabel fell asleep in the living room and Bill carried her upstairs. I really don't like the thought of Bill being able to get his hands on the kids while they're asleep and defenseless."

Ford was mad at Bill for tucking a kid into bed? That was the big red flag? "No problem! I'll fix the door right after work."

The next time Soos visited his office, he took the security tape out of his drawer, rewound it, stuck it back into the tape recorder, and let that day's security camera footage overwrite and erase the evidence of Bill's visit to the gift shop.

####

And now, today, carrying Journal 4 in both hands, Soos trudged downstairs, trying to figure out what to do with it. He had to return it to Ford, obviously—but Bill and the Stans were already in the middle of a discussion that sounded a lot more like an argument. Flinging a stolen journal into the middle of the proceedings would just make it worse. Maybe he should wait until they were finished and everyone had cooled down a little—?

While Soos was upstairs, the discussion had apparently moved into the kitchen. He hovered awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs, watching.

"What do you mean, you need kitchen access," Stan was asking, "you already have kitchen access. It's never been off-limits! Even after you peed in the sink!"

"It's not kitchen access if I need to ask someone else for permission to eat anything but snacks."

"No one's making you ask for permission! You can take what you want!"

"Okay, fine. So what can I eat?" Bill gestures at the shelves. "Go on. List anything you can think of. Anything."

Stan grimaced, and glanced at Ford to see if he was willing to walk into the obvious trap first.

Ford looked at the nearby shelves. "Cereal."

"One point for Stanford Pines! Cereal! So am I supposed to eat dry cereal for every single meal, or—?"

"No, of course not."

"All right, then what else?"

"Brown meat," Stan said. "We've got plenty of brown meat. It's good for you!"

"You didn't give me can opener rights," Bill said.

"Huh."

"So no brown meat," Bill said. "No canned soup, no canned chili, no canned fruit, no canned vegetables—"

Ford cut in, "Some of the cans have pull tabs, you don't need a can opener for those."

"Terrific observation! As soon as you realized I could open those cans myself, you moved them all under the counter because you thought I'd use the sharp edges as weapons!"

"It's... possible to open cans without a can opener, I did it sometimes while roughing it in other dimensions—"

"Yeah, wearing off the metal rim with a rock, right? Lemme just go outside and grab a rock—oh wait." Bill crossed his arms.

Ford sighed, and turned to Stan to suggest something else.

Stan surveyed the available supplies, spotted the bread, and said, "You could make sandwiches!"

"With what filling?"

"Uh..." Stan kept looking.

Meats and cheeses, of course, were kept in the fridge. Along with jelly, condiments, most vegetables... tuna or spam weren't options, they were canned... "Hey, we leave out some meats that don't need refrigeration. Sausages and stuff."

"Right, right. The ones that don't need refrigeration because they're wrapped in plastic you need a knife to cut," Bill said. "Sometimes I bite the plastic open with my teeth and rip off chunks of sausage with my fingernails, that's always fun! Then you put the leftovers in the fridge, and I'm out of luck until we buy another sausage."

"You could put... peanut butter on your sandwiches?" Ford tried. "Peanut butter's nutritious."

Bill fixed him with a hard look. "For the past five weeks, every time I've gotten a meal without asking someone else to help feed me like a baby, I've had nothing but peanut butter and banana sandwiches, peanut butter and jerky sandwiches, peanut butter and raisin sandwiches, and peanut butter and potato chip sandwiches. And we're out of bananas, jerky, and raisins." He pointed at the tortillas. "Once I decided to get creative and made myself a cold peanut butter quesadilla! I can't even add spices, because guess where the breakable glass spice jars are kept?"

"Pasta," Ford tried. "We could keep the pasta out."

"Oh, wow, that'd be great! I just love pasta! But I can't open the microwave and I can't turn on the stove! How do I heat the water, Stanford?"

Ford frowned. "Hm."

"I can cook, you know—not that any of you bothered to ask! It might not suit your tastes, but it suits mine! I wouldn't need your help to eat if you didn't make me need help! I am sick to death—" his voice went thick and took on an uncharacteristic waver, "—of having to beg to... eat." He cleared his throat, squeezed his eyes shut, and rubbed his eyelids with one hand. "Sh-shouldn't even—need to eat." He clenched his jaw to keep it from trembling.

Stan and Ford exchanged a guilty look. Stan said, "You don't have to beg— I mean, we know the, uh... position you're in..."

Bill was silent for a moment as he tried to get a tough face back on. His voice came out as a rough whisper—too thick to get any louder without breaking. "I had to negotiate to get burnt eggs."

Ford winced.

Soos was dumbfounded.

When had Bill had to negotiate for food? He could all too easily understand how it might have happened—Bill was an annoying guy, sometimes they had to pull out dumb bargains to get him to do stuff. But bargaining for food should never be on that list. Meeting Bill's basic nutritional needs couldn't be dependent on whether he was annoying that day. If it was, he'd starve.

It sounded like he was starving. Right under Soos's roof. He hadn't even noticed.

He thought about the piles of junk food trash upstairs and the bag of chips Bill had hurled across the room.

Ford said, "We'll... discuss it."

"We'll figure something out," Stan said. "I mean it."

Bill nodded silently. Head down, without uncovering his eyes, he hurried out of the kitchen and toward the stairs.

He nearly bumped into Soos's chest without noticing him. Soos backed up a step, tucking Journal 4 under his arm. "Whoa, hey!"

Bill froze, head jerking up. "You." His voice was thick and his glare was watery and poisonous. "Don't you have anything better to do than eavesdrop?" He tried to elbow past Soos, smacking his leg with his umbrella. "Move."

Soos realized uneasily that Bill's face looked a little slimmer than it had when he'd arrived.

He stepped in Bill's way. "Can't go upstairs right now. Attic's being cleaned."

"I didn't ask you to clean!"

"I'm not cleaning for you, dawg. It's just gotta be cleaned."

"Fine! Whatever!" Bill veered around the staircase and stomped down the hall, muttering, "Can't decide when I eat, can't decide when I shower, why should I get to choose when my hovel's swept..."

Soos's leg hurt where Bill had smacked it. (Bill couldn't even control whether or not he cried; all he had control over was making someone else hurt.)

In the kitchen, Stan murmured, "Didn't even realize we don't keep anything decent out on the counters. They're so crowded..."

"Chip bags take up a lot of space." Ford sighed. "I assumed he'd get a serving with everyone else whenever Mrs. Ramirez cooks."

"He does, but she only does dinners. And he'll only eat it if he watched her cook it. I've seen him get lunch with Mabel, but I don't know what he does when she's not..." Stan spotted Soos on the stairs. He tiredly called, "Soos? You need something?"

"Uhhh..." Soos hid the journal behind his back. "Nope! I just thought I'd come downstairs! For no reason." He awkwardly walked up the stairs backwards, journal still tucked behind him. "And—and now I'm going up again." He stopped at the landing and scooted sideways up the next flight of stairs. "See ya."

He pressed the journal to his chest and returned to the attic.

####

When Soos and Abuelita moved into the shack, the first thing Soos had done was turn Ford's ground-floor study into a bedroom for Abuelita. Because she was a little old lady, and not quite as steady as she used to be, so Soos didn't want her constantly going up and down the stairs—because falling once, just ONCE, could send her to the hospital or worse. That was how serious it was! You don't mess around with that!

Bill tripped and fell on the stairs so often that they could use it to tell when he was awake. And nobody had thought to offer him a cane? Did anybody even ask if he was alright?

When Bill first arrived and tried to murder everyone, naturally, he came out of it pretty banged up and bruised. That was to be expected. It was self-defense. They'd gotten used to seeing Bill with scrapes on his arms and legs, rope burns around his ankles, and the angry purple-black bruises of chain links over his arms. But in all the weeks since then, Soos hadn't seen Bill bruise-free once. Bruises on his shins and arms, scrapes on his elbows and knees. Soos had seen him with a four-inch burn on his forearm. Bill had brushed it off.

In Bill's first few days in the shack, he'd resorted to peeing in the kitchen sink because nobody had bothered to give a guy who couldn't open doors a way to use the bathroom. And they were the reason he couldn't open doors in the first place!

He threw up in the living room in the middle of the night and went upstairs to sleep on couch cushions on the floor and nobody had talked about it.

He burned off all his hair and was so upset about it that he stole Soos's zodiac blanket and hid under it for half a week, and everyone but Mabel just ignored him.

In less than a month in the Mystery Shack, Bill had lost a tooth.

He had been dragged out of the house during a weird weather phenomenon while terrified out of his mind. Soos had seen Bill cowering on the ground in fear, Ford looming over him, grabbing him by the collar and snarling in rage. Bill had been pleading with everyone in hearing range not to make him go, and had come back in such a state of shock he could hardly walk.

And yet, he'd protected the whole town from getting hurt in zero gravity—and he'd brought a pet for Soos.

They'd tried to execute Bill two days later.

####

Soos sat in the window seat, flipping through the remaining filled-in pages in Journal 4. The last few pages were packed with stickers. A cat that said PURRFECT! A smiling fish that said A REEL PAL! Bill had started a little collection of pizza slice stickers for some reason. A couple of holographic rainbows, a smiling scratch-and-sniff sun. (Apparently, the sun smelled like lemons and oranges. Astronomy facts!)

Soos reached the current page. Bill was using several pieces of paper—regular printer paper and notebook paper, folded in half—like a bookmark. Soos unfolded them. A list of animals ranked by fuzziness. (Soos was satisfied that he'd been placed under the "smooth and squishy" category, but wondered whether he should be bothered by the fact that he shared the category with pigs and slugs.) A drawing of Bill riding a looping rocket ship and waving a fishbowl helmet above him. A drawing of a blue house with a couple of kids and a pig in the window. Several drawings of shape people kinda like Bill: a pink heart person labeled "Me in Flatworld," a stern-looking red stop sign wearing sunglasses labeled "Bill's parole officer," Bill dancing, the pink heart protecting Bill from some villainous-looking shapes—all clearly Mabel's art.

Several notebook pages in someone else's handwriting detailing names, addresses, and contact information, with statements Soos couldn't make sense of—as if maybe someone had been asking somebody else questions and writing down their answers. He thought the questions might be about how some people had reacted to the end of Weirdmageddon. He got the impression the people being discussed had known that Weirdmageddon was coming. He got the impression they were disappointed it hadn't happened. There were several questions at the end: How will we rendes-vouz? (Whoever was writing didn't know how to spell rendezvous, but to be fair Soos wasn't 100% sure either.) What supplies do you need? What are your interim orders?

Soos stared at the notebook papers.

He flipped back through the journal again, looking at each page more closely.

Sometimes the two-tone dot-and-dash segments had a stray human word: a few characters he recognized from his Teach Yourself Japanese workbooks, sometimes words Soos thought might be Arabic but honestly he didn't have a clue. At one point he listed half a dozen human names that Soos didn't recognize. The most common character was a stretched-out letter M (Mabel?), followed by a 6 knocked on its side (Sixer?).

The dot-and-dash segments had occasional amateurish illustrations. Sometimes they were human stick figures; sometimes the stick figures' heads had symbols off of Bill's zodiac wheel. He saw Stan's fish symbol, Gideon's star symbol, and Mabel's shooting star symbol. Ford's stick figures were the only ones with hands; Bill consistently gave them six fingers. The doodles were like particularly esoteric cave drawings; they were so bad that Soos couldn't tell what most of them were supposed to illustrate.

Except for one featuring Bill (as a triangle) and Mabel and some other inscrutable figures in a really awesome car with flames on the side, its coolness limited only by the fact that it was all in gray and yellow-green crayon. When Soos had been in high school, there had always been a couple of kids who didn't know how to draw anything except expensive cars or name-brand sports shoes, but they drew them in extreme realistic detail. Apparently, Bill was that kind of artist. Nothing but stick figures and the sickest crayon car Soos had ever seen.

It didn't do anything to dispel Soos's impression of Bill as a lost alien 18-year-old.

On one page, in sloppy lines of handwriting that meandered drunkenly up and down the paper, Bill had written, "I don't get why you won't give me a second shot. I asked you to join my gang. I serenaded you in a pyramid. I got a fantastic makeover. I offered you godhood. I showed you my dimension. I didn't torture you until I had to. I even made you a skin couch! I know how much you've always wanted a leather furniture set! I've given you everything from chicken zombification magic to jelly beans, what does it take? What am I missing?"

Soos reread Bill's other messages to Ford. All that "you'll regret not siding with me" junk wasn't threats. It was the impotent rage of a socially inept teenager who didn't understand his own creepiness had driven his friends away. It was the whiny moan of some guy going "Why doesn't she like me anymore" about an ex-girlfriend who had told him five times she didn't like him anymore because he didn't listen to her. Like that guy Wendy dated last summer. So like, a jerk, but not a terrifying world-ending monster jerk, just an annoying creep jerk. A regular jerk. A human jerk.

Soos stood, gave one last look at this journal—clearly stolen, definitely a violation of Bill's "no writing materials" restriction, completely stuffed full of mysterious messages to outsiders and some kind of weird alien code that could say anything at all and might have been super dangerous—and he slid it back into the ripped seam in the attic seat cushion where he'd found it.

He finished vacuuming up the potato chips Bill had flung across the room, thinking about how offended Bill had been that Soos had given him any food except what he'd asked for, remembering what Abuelita had said about people who destroy the things around them when they feel like that's the last and only thing they still have power over.

Enough was enough.

####

(Hope y'all enjoyed! Next week we may interrupt our regularly-scheduled programming to post a TBOB-based chapter I'm inserting early into the fic—it depends on if I get it done by next Friday. In the meantime, I'm looking forward to hearing y'all's thoughts on this chapter!)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #soos ramirez #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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desi2go · 6 months ago

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Lifting your bump

pairing: Felix x pregnant!reader

warnings: fluff

author's note: I'm half way done with the greek mythology fic! I'm hoping that I can finish it within the next week ;-)

Being pregnant was something that you wanted to be since you were young. You didn't know why but these little human beings just do something to you. Their big glossy eyes, the rosy cheeks and the bright smile always made you smitten.

And it was one of your biggest dreams to be pregnant one day. To experience motherhood on your own, watching the child you and your love created together growing up.

You knew that pregnancy wasn't easy. The morning sickness, back pain, swollen feet and so much more. But that didn't matter.

That's why you were thrilled when you discovered that you were pregnant from your boyfriend, Felix, of two years. It wasn't planned at all.

At first you couldn't even remember how on earth you could be pregnant. Since dating Felix and after a long conversation with him, you had decided that you would take the pill. You knew that it wasn't one hundred percent safe and Felix most of the time used a condom. But visiting him at the practice room turned out steamy and spicy.

And days after, you had noticed that you forgot to take the pill in the morning and you didn't use a condom.

Sure, you didn't think that you will be pregnant so early.

You wished Felix was there so that you could have told him right now.

But he was on tour and wouldn't come home for another month.

However, you didn't want to wait so long to tell him the news. You were dying to tell him. You called him the same evening, deciding to drop the news immediately. Luckily, you two already talked about having children and you both agreed that when the time was right you would try. Well, you weren't trying but it felt right to you and you knew that Lix would be over the moon.

And you were right. At first he was shocked, his mouth open in disbelief but after a few seconds, the biggest smile appeared on his face.

He jumped through his hotel room, squealed and hugged Seungmin tightly as he just wanted to check on him because of his screaming.

When he came home from tour, there was already a small bump. He cried when he saw you again and hugged you tightly, caressing over your stomach.

The months flew by and your bump grew bigger and bigger. It turned out that you weren't not carrying a baby but two. Felix told you that you glowed and you looked great pregnant. And you really loved it. Even though they decided that they wanted to be kick boxer and stomped against your rips.

Your breasts hurt, feet swollen and you couldn't even brush your teeth without the need to vomit. That was the side that you wouldn't miss.

And oh lord, your little beans weighed a ton. Back pains were terrible but you still insisted to cook for Felix so that he had a meal when he came home from the company.

You hummed along the soft melody of your favourite song, boiling some noodles. You groaned when one of the babies kicked, running your hand over your swollen belly.

The front door opens, signalling that your love was home from work. Immediately, he was behind you. Kissing your shoulder and hugged you from behind.

"Hello my love. Why are you cooking? The doctor said you should rest" he whispered into your ear, nibbling on the skin on your neck.

"I am resting. See? I'm not really moving around. So technically I'm resting" you answered and stirred the sauce.

His hands circled your waist just below your belly. He felt the kick.

"Little beans are really active today." You said.

"You promised me to be kind to your mother, sweet peas" he scolded lightly. He wrapped his arms tighter around you.

"What are you doing, love?"

He chuckled and kissed your neck. "Just relax"

Then, he lifted your bump slowly. Most of the weight was taken off of you and it was like you could finally take full breaths again. Exhausted, you sigh and slumped against him. Finally, your back pain began to vanish even it was just slightly.

He saw that on social media and Chan told him today that his wife absolutely loved it when she was pregnant.

"Oh my god, Lix. That feels great. Please stay like that" you groan and sunk further into him. He found it so adorable and he'll do everything for you whenever he can.

In that position he could even feel the babies kicking.

And he loved to see you comfortable, especially when he knew how painful this was for you and he'll definitely do it in the future more often till his little beans were born.

#stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #stray kids felix #lee felix #felix #lee yongbok #felix x y/n #skz felix

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creativepromptsforwriting · 1 year ago

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Spooktober Prompts Masterlist 2023

"They are calling us…" "Don't listen to them. Do you hear me? Don't listen to a word they promise you!"

The cameras show five people enter an elevator, but only four of them leaving it. Those four never remembered a fifth passenger.

"Aww, are you so afraid of the dark that you need me to hold your hand?" "I'm not holding your hand." "Then whose..."

At first, they believe it to be a bad joke, but when more and more graves of people who haven't died yet appear in the graveyard, they start to panic.

The camera she bought at a flea market already has photos on it. Since the people are wearing clothes from centuries ago, they believe them to be from a play. But they soon realize that those photos and events were real.

A child actress turned cult leader feels her power slipping and she needs to gain control over her following again.

When they started building the new school, they had expected to maybe find unexploded WWII bombs, but what they found instead was nothing they could have expected.

She heard footsteps behind her coming closer, but when she turned around, holding her breath, she could only see the dark and empty alley.

"Why did you choose the cemetary as our meeting place for tonight?" "Because only the dead can keep our secrets."

Going to your own funeral and see who would cry - it sounded almost fun. If it wasn’t for the fact that they could hear and see everything, but could not make a sound to stop them from closing up the grave around them.

A medium without a voice of her own, can only speak when a ghost speaks through her.

They had always felt that shadows seemed to beckon to them. But this time, when the shadows beckoned, they wore a sinister grin. (Submitted by: tumblebumblebee-63)

"I'm not haunting a filthy public bathroom, I'm a ghost with class."

A fun survival game TV show on a remote island becomes a reality when one contestant after the other turns up brutally killed. Right in front of hundreds of cameras and millions of watchful eyes.

Waking up to a child that you've never seen before, but that everyone assures you is your own that you've raised for years, is terrifying.

"Did you see that?" "Did I see what?" "That man... he touched the leaves and they immediately blackened and fell off. Please, let us go back before he sees us!" "Too late." The man in the dark cloak suddenly stood right in front of them and slowly reached out his hands to them.

What started as a fun midnight activity suddenly turned into one of them missing and the others running for their lives, trying to escape freaking zombies.

He always dreamed about being in a kdrama. He didn't imagine it to have a horror side plotline that feels way too real.

They said that when you die, you return to earth as your one true self. Why then, when he opened his eyes after being killed, were his teeth long and he hungered for blood? (Submitted by: ouilah)

She didn't think it would come to this point. She felt the cold stone of the gravestone in her back and before her the red glowing eyes of the creature crept slowly closer.

There are perks of being a ghost. Walking through walls was fun. Or haunting annoying people. But nothing was quite as nice as being able to just fade out of a conversation that you didn’t want to be a part of.

"I dare you! Come on, stop being a coward. There is no such thing as ghosts."

Someone wakes up to a text saying 'It's your lucky day!' and it turns out to be the worst day ever.

A family of vampires that lives unidentified in human communities, becomes paranoid and starts to believe all their neighbors are also supernatural creatures.

There are stories and superstitions abound about the seaside bluffs, but that's to be expected in a town of fishermen. One night, from the bluffs' direction, you hear someone singing, softly. (Submitted by: someoneoffthestreet)

Astronauts coming back to earth keep talking about hearing songs from outside the space shuttle. What they don't say, is that those songs followed them home.

Someone stared at her through the window. She had always felt safe in her own home, shutting out the scary, real world. But a window is just glass, and glass… oh it breaks so, so easily…

A plane disappears from the radar and then reappears multiple hours later at the exact same location in the middle of the ocean with no place to land and not enough fuel to just fly around for hours.

"We shouldn't enter! This place was abandoned for a reason!" "Come on, don't be a coward. We will be the only ones here!" "Okay, okay... I'll follow you. You don't have to push me!" "I... I didn't push you..."

A session of reading tea leaves ends in chaos when every single participant reveals a bad omen.

Something tells the home owner that the kids trick-or-treating in front of his house are not wearing costumes - and are not human at all.

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

#spooktober #spooky prompts #writeblr #spooktober 2023 #writing prompts #writers on tumblr #creative writing #writers #halloween

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cyberrose2001 · 17 days ago

Note

HUMAN PET AU <3

Ratchet finally comes home from working all day at the med bay, the poor medic is tired as hell and just wants to relax in the comfort of his own berth. Fortunately enough, ratchet owns an exotic pet. A human he has grown fond of. They are fully trained and even have their own collar (with the message “Please return to Ratchet if lost” written on it), they have also learned how to help Ratchet de-stress by letting him use their hole as his personal flesh light <3 His happy little human loves becoming his cum dump to help him get his frustrations out, such a helpful little pet <33

any continuity of ratchet is fine (pick ur fav!), afab but gender neutral reader please and thank you moni 🙏❤️‍🩹

A Sight For Sore Optics - Human Pet AU

IDW/MTMTE Ratchet x human! afab! gn!Reader

Hi Gem! Thank you so much for your request, I was literally foaming at the mouth ready to write this. To make this more anatomically possible, Ratchet's spike transforms to a more "safer" size. So I hope this is good please be good (I haven't finished reading mtmte yet so forgive me). Also if I have missed any tags please let me know!

Warnings: Xenophilia, Size Kink, Collaring, Oral (both receiving and giving), Masturbation, Praise Kink, Cum Dumping, Mild Dubious Consent (?)

Word Count: 2.3k

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Another day, another few thousand miles of endless space, another few sickly bots. Additionally, a few unkempt humans requiring attention due to poor conditions from their previous owners. With the new organic additions to the Lost Light at the captain's approval, Ratchet had found himself biting off more than he could chew, looking after bots and humans. Oh, how he wished he took up an organic health course or something other than primarily relying on Brainstorm's fervent research on the tiny creatures. Between juggling it all, Ratchet was unsure how much more his threadbare servos could take. Still, there was one thing the old medic was unmistakable about. He was tired.

One good thing, he must admit, is that he gets to return to you. His own human pet, a personal 'Thank you' gift on behalf of the entire crew for his selflessness and hard work, provided with you a basket with fundamental necessities. But the basket had long since been used up, and he had transformed it into a makeshift cot for you. It'll do for now, he had thought.

He was initially still trying to figure out what to think of you. Apart from very rudimentary health checkups and nutritional foods, there wasn't much that Ratchet could provide for you. There's not many enriching activities for such a tiny human like yourself. Until that is, he discovered something quite unusual that had been exhibited in almost every human adopted by the crew so far.

You have an insatiable libido.

Ratchet was unsure, if not downright nervous if other owners were to discover how incredibly beneficial humans could be. Whether or not they had already learned was an entirely different story. It wouldn't surprise Ratchet if that was the very reason why human pets were approved, though it seems shocking. It all seemed so innocent enough, adopting humans for the cuteness factor for the mechs on board. But as with most things, there's always more than just the surface level of what the optic sees. And Ratchet was already way too far below the surface.

Punching in the code for his hab suite, Ratchet waits eagerly for the door to open with twitching digits. He steps inside, tossing whatever work essentials he has on hand on the first bench he sees. He'll worry about reorganising later. Right now, he needs some pet therapy and a well-overdue overload. The dull ache behind his panels only gets stronger as his pedes carry him to his berthroom to you, curled up on his berth. It looked as if you neglected your rudimentary cot, choosing to sleep on his berth instead. The medic can't help the softened expression as he melts at the sight. Of all the things he didn't think he deserved, he never once expected it to be such an adorable little thing like you.

He lets his pedes wander over to you, like countless times before, careful and delicate. He always told himself that this 'fling' he had with you was only temporary and that it was purely for his curiosity, but he tends to find himself aching for you repeatedly. He can't help how his racing neurocircuits seem to fizzle out and calm down when he lies with you.

A roughened servo brushes over your hair to slowly stir you. It looked like you had been napping for some time now, which he believes is a good thing. Brainstorm did say that humans tend to sleep better in environments they consider comfortable. The gentle brushing causes you to stir and lift your head to greet him, though in a language yet to be deciphered. It's a pleasant greeting, and Ratchet can tell they're happy to see him. Something along the lines of 'I missed you,' he'd like to think.

"Hey, squishy. I missed you too," Ratchet smiles warmly. He brushes the hair away from your neck to reveal a collar, "You haven't ripped it off yet. Seems like you like it, hm?"

A slight, sleepy nod in confirmation, you've grasped at what he said. Ratchets' digits trail down to the collar, a small silver plate that reads 'Please Return to Ratchet If Lost - HabSuite ###" engraved in Cybertronian. Not that you tend to wander off, but more or less a just in case. Plus, he gets a thrill seeing his name attached to you. He thumbs it gently, admiring his handy work.

"I'm glad you do. It took me quite some time to make," Ratchet tugs at it softly, beckoning you to come closer. He watches you climb onto his lap, "Such tiny adornments are complex to create, 'specially with hands like mine." A servo cups your back, his thumb moving to play with your soft chest. He shivers when he hears a tiny whimper from you, and you seem eager to play with him already.

"I've had a busy day," A mechanical noise of shifting gears as his spike slides out of its housing, "I think you know what I need." It's well and truly bigger than you, much bigger than your tiny body could ever take. But the way your eyes light up in excitement assures Ratchet that you are more than pleased, already desperately taking off your quirky frame coverings. He eyes off your cute organic valve, notices how dripping wet it is, and staves off a moan.

"C'mere for a second," Ratchet scoops you into his servo to bring you closer to his face. He gets a whiff of your arousal, so earthy and addicting. The more you spread your thighs for him, the more he can smell. He brings you to his intake and licks one hearty stripe up your folds.

Oh yes, he thinks. Better than energon. Better than any high grade to ever pass his dermas, like a warm drink that soothes and revitalises his senses. It thickens on his glossa, groaning at the taste as he swirls it around your little node. He watches intently as you squeal in delight, your thighs trembling around his cheeks and how your little face contorts into one of pleasure. Well, he had always presumed it was in pleasure; you've never exactly shied away from his glossa. He hums when you feel him grinding, desperate little ruts chasing the vibrations.

Ratchet licks one last time at your slick, pulling away to observe. Oral lubricants coat your valve thickly, the sensitive area reddened from his torment. His optics wander up; your soft skin is already flushed and glistening with sweat. He wonders how close you were to overloading; it wouldn't have taken much longer if he had kept going. But his spike grows restless, throbbing against his abdominal plating, begging to be touched by much softer palms than his own.

"Do you want my spike? Hm?" Ratchet teases, "My big spike?" He knows you can't fully understand him, but he can't help but vocalise his salacious fantasy. Holding onto you carefully, he lounges back onto the berth. He bites his bottom derma and lowers you to his lap, showing you his engorged spike, "Go on then, have at it. I'll frag your little brains out soon."

With an encouraging nudge from Ratchet, you straddle the shaft. To anyone else, it looks ridiculous. A tiny human desperately attempting to wrap their arms around a spike that's two times taller than they are. But to any depraved fleshy fragger, it's a sight to behold. Ratchet once thought of snapping a picture to potentially maybe sell it to the highest bidder for those who crave the feeling of such a soft body grinding on them, for he is sure there's a market out there somewhere, probably more than half of the crew onboard. Still, the shame of it all prevents him. There's an image to uphold being the resident medic.

Besides, he'd much prefer to keep you and that curious tongue all for himself.

He feels your little licks along him, a tiny tongue wiggling through the grooves and smooth surface, reaching crevices with hidden nodes that cause his pedes to curl. Soft ruts of your hips press your soaked valve right up against him. He knows what you want. The medic brings a servo to grip around his spike with you squished between, only tight enough to keep you in place as he begins self-servicing himself. He hears you letting out a surprised gasp, then a muffled moan, feeling your grip tighten around him.

"Yeah? You like that, squishy?" Ratchet moans, moving his servo slightly faster, "I bet you-nghh do. You look so cute like that. So tiny pressed against my spike."

Only a taste of your warmth is given through your body, like the little tease you are. Ratchet feels the perspiration dripping off you, likely due to the rise of his internal temperature and the energon being solely diverted to his array. It makes for a mediocre yet acceptable lubrication. He could spike you with it alone, but Ratchet prefers to use alternate practices in the interest of your health. Primus knows how careless other Cybertronians can be with their pets.

The medic is becoming increasingly aware of his overload and yours by the looks of things, your little optics squeezed shut, and your limbs clamped tight around his girth. He consciously decides to stop before you reach it. The idea of you squirming on his spike played on his processor a bit too well. He hears your soft whine at the loss of friction, which Ratchet can't help but chuckle at.

"I know, I know. I'm so mean, aren't I? Hold on, squishy." Ratchet lets you rest against his palm while his weeping spike whirs and clunks inwards to a much more manageable size for a human. His spike may be smaller, but there's not much difference in sensation. Thank Primus for the minicon-compatability modes, "You alright?"

A small squeak from you, yes. The medic watches intently as you waste no time climbing on, guided by his careful servo. You press your little valve against the tip, hissing as it barely slips through. Ratchet digs his pedes into the berth at the intense sensation, gritting his dentae as you bottom out. The feeling is incomparable to anything else; it's uniquely organic, warm, and so, so much softer than mesh.

He then wraps his entire servo around you, effectively turning you into one perfect spike sleeve only for him. Perfectly snug inside you, his grip clenches and unclenches around your torso before gently unsheathing himself from you again.

Ratchet is always careful when he uses you in this manner, ensuring his grip isn't too tight. He pushes you back down again, and he feels you melt into his servo. He hears your little whimpers and cries for him, to go faster, he believes. He learned a long ago that he doesn't need to understand your verbal mumbles when your fleshy hips try to hastefully force yourself down onto him, only halted by his own hand. His grip ever so tightens and gives in to your desperation, or more or less his own.

"You're so good for me, squishy. Hah- Lettin' me use your little valve like a toy." Ratchet mewls, his helm lolling off to the side as his optics flick between your face and the way his spike disappears inside you, "Such a helpful little pet you are."

He feels your velvet walls clamp down on him with each and every praise he gives, your little arms draped over the top of his thumb, clinging on for dear life. Every now and then, he massages your breasts pressed up against it, eliciting more dirty moans from you. Such softness that he can't help but take advantage of.

"So- ngh- tight," Ratchet vents heavily, "Primus, you've ruined me for my own race."

He felt a twinge of shame hearing himself; it was as if he had entirely let himself go. But he knows he can no longer turn back, not when you're the best little creature to ever stumble into his life. Despite him having you wrapped around his digits, it is indeed him wrapped around yours. The relief you bring to him after every gruelling shift, after every stressful day upon this damned ship, had him truly addicted.

And with an internal affirmation of decadence and with your soft little valve clenching and pulsing around his spike, he's sent right over the edge.

"Frag yes, sweetspark!-" He glitches out, pressing you down on his thick shaft as far as your soft little body can tolerate. His energon pulses deeply and shocks his entire body with an overload, shooting gush after gush of transfluids into you. His frame lurches forward, his hips driving into the berth as he milks his throbbing spike, his servo driving it deeper into you in a lust-filled daze. Your whines and cries only spur him on more, and he doesn't stop until you're shaking like a leaf in his hold.

It takes only a few more moments for a spent Ratchet to collapse back with you still in his grip, albeit slumped against his thumb. You're panting hard, and he can only just feel your tiny heart pounding against him. You must have had your own overload by the looks of it if the bliss-filled smile on your soft lips is anything to go by. His optics linger down to your soft, distended stomach and the dripping mess that splatters across your thighs and onto his pelvic plating. Now that truly is a sight for sore optics, he thinks to himself.

Ratchet huffs, bringing his other servo to pat the top of your head, "Now there's my happy little human, huh?" He smiles warmly when he feels you leaning into his touch, "How 'bout I fill you up some more?"

If this was what it took for the old medic to de-stress and relax, then so be it. If he were to be exposed to the rest of the crew, then may he join the rest of them. In secret, for now, he will proudly declare himself a lover of organic flesh.

#transformers x reader #transformers x human reader #idw mtmte #mtmte #idw ratchet #mtmte ratchet #mtmte x reader #mtmte ratchet x reader #idw ratchet x reader #human pet au #first contact au #valveplug #cyberrosewrites

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anakinstwinklebunny · 5 months ago

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FATHERHOOD pt.1

TW: anakin being a dad; this part is shorter, prepare for sec part that is wayy longer, also I purposely haven't named the child, basing on the assumption that it could be easier to read (just feel free to name him however you want)

Being a dad was one of Anakin's favorite jobs, but also the most exhausting one. Yet, he wouldn't change it for anything in the world. He loved taking care of his little buddy, watching time slip through his fingers and witnessing his growth each day.

Despite this, there was an odd ache in his chest. It was a mix of pride and a sharp feeling of acknowledgment that his son was growing. Each new chapter brought different responsibilities, but also required letting go of those he once had, which he shockingly found missing

However, Anakin tried not to overthink it too much. Growing was a natural part of a human life, and it was something that happened all the time. He had no power to change it, and honestly, he preferred it that way. A little..just a tiny bit

His parenting methods were.. unusual to say the least. He often acted silly with his little boy, engaging in all sorts of playful activities together. In addition, Anakin pretended to understand the toddler's gibberish language, often having one-sided conversations that left others baffled. He claimed he understood his son perfectly and jokingly suggested that you should take some serious baby-talk classes.

Anakin, being a Force-sensitive individual, also didn't shy away from using his powers to entertain his son. For example, when the child would demand his attention while Anakin was relaxing on the couch, longing for the toddler's nap time to arrive so he could catch a break or spend some quality time with you, he would lift him off the ground with the use of the Force, eliciting giggles and shrieks from the child.

As time went on, you began to notice how Anakin and your son had become a dynamic duo. They shared similar facial expressions, curly locks, and identical blue eyes. Their father-son bond was truly a heartwarming sight.

Anakin had a charming habit of buying clothes that matched not just his and the boy's outfits, but also yours. This was particularly noticeable during Halloween;

You couldn't help but giggle as Anakin stepped into the kitchen. A smile spread across your face as you set your eyes on him, carrying the little boy on his hip.

Anakin was dressed as Linguini from Ratatouille, while the toddler adorably donned a Remy costume. His chubby cheeks puffed up as he clung to his father, making the sight irresistibly charming. It was, without a doubt, the cutest thing you had ever seen today

"What do you think? Pretty adorable, right?" Anakin asked, a proud smile lighting up his face.

You pointed to the little one, a playful tone in your voice. "Him? Absolutely."

Anakin feigned offense, narrowing his brows. "Hey, hey, hey... what about me? I put some serious effort into this costume, you know," he protested.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter at his expression. "You're both cute," you reassured him with a grin.

Anakin smiled, his eyes showing a hint of satisfaction at your confession. His hand gently gripped your waist, pulling you closer to him. He paused for a moment, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Just cute? Not unbelievably charming and irresistible?" he asked, feigning mock offense.

A huge smile spread across your face as you replied, "Whatever you want to hear."

Anakin chuckled, his sly smirk growing wider as his gaze moved to your lips. "Oh, I know exactly what I want to hear," he stated, a hint of arrogance in his tone. "I want to hear you say that I look insanely handsome, irresistible, and devastatingly attractive in my Linguini costume."

You raised an eyebrow, a playful retort slipping past your lips. "Someone's a bit too full of themselves," you commented, unable to hide a smile. Meanwhile, your little son wriggled in Anakin's arms, reaching out to playfully pull on his curly locks.

"Ow, Remy," Anakin winced as the small boy's tiny hand tugged at his hair. He gently pried the little limb away. "Now, c'mon," he continued, a smirk still lingering. "If you're too shy to admit the truth, then at least wear this." With that, he produced a neatly folded costume, holding it up for you to see.

"No, Ani, I have to—" you began to protest, but he swiftly cut you off, his expression firm and unrelenting.

"No buts," he asserted. "You're coming with us, sweetheart. That's final. I'm not taking no for an answer. We're going out as a family, and that includes you." He held up the costume "We need you, Colette."

You sighed in defeat, but a small smile tugged at your lips. "Fine..."

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @ysrjune @divineani @erosmutt @emmaloo21 @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt

(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

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selfloverrrrrr · 1 month ago

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Blood Play

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physical and emotional abuse, biting, size difference, Yandere Geto, vampire Geto, prince Geto, stalking, protective, jealous, obsessive, manipulative....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Y/n's POV

People were getting missing in our Kingdom. We don't know what was exactly happening. But after some days of missing. Their dead bodies were found in the middle of our kingdom's jungle. And the horrifying thing is that their dead bodies don't look like they were killed by any human. And it doesn't seem like the work of any animals either.

Because those bodies don't have any animal attacking wounds it just looks as if someone took all the blood out of their bodies. That was terrifying! All the people of our Kingdom were going everyday to the castle of king Geto for help. But nothing much was happening... those incidents kept happening.

I didn't get deep into these , just kept my own safety.... until that one day came. Yuta okkotsu. He was my friend...my childhood friend and my best friend. We were so close friends. He was the only friend I had. His house was just beside my house. Both of us lived alone.

Yuta had a great obsession with mysteries. One night he came to me and said "y/n... I'm going out to find out what is happening in our Kingdom... who's killing these people... and I'm sure I'll find out" he said. "Yuta, are you mad or something?! You are not going anywhere! What if something happened to you?!" I said.

"oh y/n don't worry! Nothing's gonna happen... I've already researched something about these..." He said. "You researched what?" I asked. "Come sit.. I'll tell you" he said and I sat beside him. "I researched about this incident by meeting those dead people's family and with some books...do you know what I found out?" He asked.

"what?" I asked. "I'm not totally sure but I think there's a vampire... who's doing these things" he said. " Vampire? You mean that mythological creature?" I asked. "Yes yes... exactly!" He replied. "But how do you know?" I asked. "Look first let me tell you about vampires" he said.

"vampires are creatures who have fangs and they sucks blood from humans or animals with their fangs. They are mostly active at night and they can't walk in the sunlight... The sunlight burns them...but they found a solution for it... there's a pendant. Not everyone but Some vampires have it... and what I read from the book it's a silver pendant which has some power to keep them protected from the sunlight... they can walk in the sunlight if they have it" yuta explained.

"Yuta that's even more dangerous! Please don't go!" I said. "Y/n please... it's the first time I'm getting a chance for an adventure... please" he said. "I know... but what if something happens to you?!" I said. "Nothing will happen... I'm gonna come back home quickly....I promise" he said. "Okay .... but you should keep your promise!" I said. "I'll " he replied and went out.

That's the last time we talked. And as I feared he went missing like the others... but nobody found his body so there's still hope he's alive. I was crying from the morning. He's the only one I had. How can I let him go? I told him not to go... but he didn't listen to me....

The next morning I decided to go to the castle with the other people who were going there to complain. I went there. The castle was so gorgeous from the inside. So many people were already there. Then the king entered and sat on the throne. That's the first time I saw him. He looks dangerously gorgeous. His every feature was so gorgeous.

"speak" he said looking at the common people in front of him. "My lord it kept happening..... help us my lord" people said. I was watching from behind. "How many times are y'all gonna complain about the same thing?" He responded. "But my lord, we all are terrified" people said. "I told you I'm doing my work for this case... don't tell me this everyday" Geto replied.

His reply made my blood boil. How dare he? We're his people... he's supposed to protect us! And he's talking like he doesn't even care... My only friend got missing.... how can he say that? "How can you just talk like that as if you don't even care?!" I said loudly. Everyone looked at me.

"hey... he's our king" one of those people said. "No I won't shut up! My friend went missing yesterday too! And our king's acting like he doesn't want to help us! My friend Yuta investigated this thing and got information that these murders could be held by a vampire! And this king can't?!" I said loudly. Everyone was silent.

I didn't even pay attention to what I just said because I was so frustrated. "What's your name, miss?" Geto asked. "Y-y/n" I replied. "Miss y/n, come here please" he said. Fuck what did I just said! Is he gonna put me in prison? I thought and went towards the throne.

I stood in front of him. I was looking at the floor and wishing not to get imprisoned. He took my hand. "What were you saying about vampires?" He asked. "M-my friend Yuta...who got missing... h-he found some evidence that those murders are done by some vampire" I replied to geto.

"vampire... I see" he responded. "What do you know about vampires?... maybe that information is gonna help me to find your friend" he said. That gave me some more hope. "I don't know too much but..." I continued and looked at him "vampires are creatures who have fangs and they sucks blood from humans or animals with their fangs. They are mostly active at night and they can't walk in the sunlight... The sunlight burns them.... Not every vampires but Some vampires have a-" I was about to complete my sentence but I paused.

My eyes widened when I saw the pendant on his neck. That was the exact same pendant Yuta explained to me. "Some vampires have a? What?" Geto asked. I gulped. He's a vampire??? So everything is happening here... he's the one who's doing it? "I-i.... I forgot... those are the only information I know about them" I replied.

He smirked looking at me. Oh no no no! Does he know? Did he understand that I know he's a vampire? I asked myself. "Do you leave alone?" He asked. "H-hmm" I replied. "I think you need safety... your friend is already missing... what if you're the next target? And beside.... you're pretty too... you can easily be the target" he whispered leaning towards me.

"you're staying here until we find your friend... guards take her to....my room" he ordered. Oh no no no! This can't be! This is bad! But I can't even say no! What if he hurts Yuta more?! Okay y/n...clam down... it'll be okay... guards will be here too! I told myself. Then those guards took me to a room.

I was in a room. The guards closed the door. I know Geto is a vampire. I'm sure he is! But what can I do? He's way more stronger than me... and the worst thing is he knows that I know he's a vampire. Fuck! He's gonna come anytime now... what am I gonna do now???

I was looking around and noticed that all the windows of that room were covered with curtains. I got an idea. I took a deep breath. Okay y/n clam down... you can do it you can do it.... just believe in yourself! It'll be just one chance... I told myself.

It was day time. The sunlight was coming in the room. I pulled all the curtains. Now the room was filled with sunlight. A few minutes passed then the door opened. And as I thought it was Prince Geto himself. He smirked and closed the door. "So?... feeling safe here?" He asked.

I gulped my nervousness and cleared my throat. "Y-yes" I replied. "Great" he said and walked towards me then sat on the bed. "Please take a seat here" he said patting on the bed. I sat down. "Now answer my question and tell me the truth... okay?" He said. I nodded.

"you know.... don't you?" He said. I cursed myself under my breath. "W-what?" I asked. "Oh come on... don't try to be innocent...we both know that you know" he said shifting towards me. I clenched the bedsheet. "Now tell the truth and maybe I'll tell you where your friend is" he said.

My heart thumped. Now he's gonna blackmail me?! "I-i know" I said. He smirked. "That's better...go on... tell me what you know?" He said and played with my hair. "T-that you are a.... vampire" I replied. His smirked widened. "Brain with a pretty face.... what else can be more attractive?" He said looking at me.

He leaned towards me. "Your friend is still alive... I'll let him be free if you agree with my one condition" he said. A relief washed over me when I heard that Yuta is alive. "What is it? Tell me " I asked. "Be mine" he said. I was almost speechless. "W-what?" I asked. He again leaned towards me. "Give me your pretty body and I'll let your friend free" he said.

Hi face was too close to mine. He looked at my lips then again in my eyes. My hand was shaking. I took a deep breath. Ok y/n it's the time do it! I told myself. And within a moment of time I snatched away his pendant from his neck. The room was already filled with sunlight. His eyes widened and his smirk vanished.

He screamed. His skin started burning. He fell on the floor. "Nooooooooooooo" he screamed. Smoke started coming from his body. He tried to move from the sunlight but it was everywhere. He punched on the floor. He looked at me. "I'm gonna burn your friend!!!!!! Give me that pendant backkkkk!!!!!!" He screamed.

I went to the door. But It was locked. I couldn't break it. "Fucking stop it!!!! I'm dying!!!" He continued screaming. I finally managed to break the lock. "P-Please stop!!!! It's hurting me!!!!" He screamed and cried. "I'll let him go... please give it back!" He almost sobbed. I knew he was lying and he wouldn't do that... I run to exit from the castle.

I couldn't find the exit. I realised the sun already went down. Then I heard a groaning sound and footsteps coming from the direction of the room I was in. It's him. I could feel it was Geto. I quickly ran to the next room and closed the door. I silently stand there.

"where's she?! Where's that bitch?!" I heard him screaming from outside. My heart was racing. And what could get worse? A flower vase fell on the floor by accident. I cursed myself. But nothing can be changed now! And before I could do anything Geto broke the door and went inside the room.

I looked at the door. He was already looking at me. In the blink of an eye he was standing in front of me. His half body was burnt. But it was healing now. "It was simple....too much simple... but no! You had to be a bitch and choose the hard way.... now let me show you the hard way" he said with grinded teeth. Then grabbed my hair and pulled me out of that room.

He dragged me inside and locked the door. He turned towards me. "Now now....you proved that you ARE a bitch" he said and threw me on the bed.He started crawling towards me."please stop" I said and tried to push myself backwards but he grabbed my leg and pulled me towards him. I gasped. He was still smirking."stop?... Where's the fun then? The fun part is about to began ~" he whispered and crashed his lips on mine.

I tried to push him away but his grip was too strong. I can't even move myself. He was kissing me too roughly. I couldn't breathe. He grabbed the hem of my dress and pulled it over my head. He looked at my naked body with lust in his eyes and didn't waste any time, crashed his mouth on my breast licking, sucking and teasing the nipple and squeezing the other one with his hand. I moaned in the sensation. I grabbed his hair and tried to stop him by pulling it but it didn't even affect him. "P-Please stopppp" I screamed but he didn't stop.

Then he looked at my pussy. He rubbed his finger on my clit and whispered " so wet. Is my slut being needy now? Doesn't she wanna help her friend now?~". Then he licked my pussy. I couldn't help but moan loudly. He smirked at my reaction. "Please let him go..." I begged him. "Do you think you still have a chance to beg me after you did that with me?!" He said and undo his pants.

He positioned himself. "P-Please don't" I said. He rubbed the tip on my clit. "Shhhh" He said with a smirk and slammed his length inside me. I screamed. He let out a groan. "F-fuck... you feel like heaven!" He moaned.

He started thrusting in and out roughly. I was through my legs with pain and begging him to stop. "You don't know...you don't know how much I wanted this....fuckkkk....it feels so good" he moaned loudly. His thrust became harder and harder.

"can your friend make you feel like this?... Can he?... " he said. He kissed my neck. He thrust more roughly. "It's hurting.... I-It's hurting too much " I sobbed.

I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly " ughhhhhh....ahhh s-so...ahhhh....so f-fucking tight " he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bite his shoulder scratched his back to control myself. With a few more thrust I came. He was still thrusting roughly. "I want blood....let me feed on you" he said.... "N-No please " I cried out. "I'll let your friend go... he's still alive" he said with a smirk and pulled out his frangs and dug them on my neck. I screamed in the pain. But he was being gentle while feeding on me. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out. My vision blurred out.

He licked my neck after he was done drinking my blood. "Sleep well... how can I let a gorgeous thing like you go...?" He whispered and kissed my neck.

Give me your requests guys...

I love when you give me your requests 💕

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too-much-tma-stuff · 3 months ago

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How Different Is It (part 18.5)

Previous | Masterpost | Next

Tim left Jason and Danny’s apartment with a tupperware of cinnamon rolls and a fresh loaf of bread after the confrontation with Danny and Jason, and shot a quick text to Dick assuring him everything was fine and Tim would share details later, and to Alfred asking about a vacation. Then he turned off his phone before they could text him back. He had had enough of emotions for today and he just wanted to go home and see Kon. To talk, and maybe spar, and try and make sense of what he had just seen.

He sped back to Titan’s tower, he could have called on Kon for a lift, and been home faster of course but he wanted to clear his head on his own. He thought it had worked, at least until he slammed the door with enough force to make himself wince. Huh, he hadn’t meant to do that, clearly he was more upset then he realized.

He winced again when he heard the woosh of air that meant the unusual noise had summoned Kon. Damn that super hearing, nothing got past him.

“Are you okay?” Kon asked, looking over Tim worriedly.

“Yes,” He snapped, before amending quickly. “No, but I’m not ready to talk about it yet. Can we just spar? I have some… stuff to work out. Only if you’re up to it?”

“Of course we can! Come on. Weapons or hand to hand?”

“Hand to hand,” Robin decided as they walked together up to the roof top sparring room. “And stay grounded please.” Sometimes Kon using some flight was a fun challenge to get up to him, today Tim would just find it frustrating.

“I’ll keep it as no-powers as I can,” Kon promised, holding up his hand in a pledge which made Tim's lips twitch up in a smile. He loved the sincerity in Kon, it was so… sweet.

“Thanks Kon,” Tim said, his shoulders already relaxing in preparation for the fight. He tolled them comfortably, his neck to, limbering up for the upcoming spar.

He avoided common areas on the way up, except for slipping into the deserted kitchen for just a moment to leave the food, most of the time sparring was a group activity with those not in the fight cheering from the sidelines, but today Robin didn't want an audience.

They reached the sparring room without anyone seeing them and Tim hopped up onto the mats, waiting for Kon to come join him. When his… partner drifted up Robin didn't wait for the usual formalities of sparring before lunging in, immediately on the offensive. Kon kept his motions to a human speed as he dodged and kicked though it was performative more than anything.

Robin jumped over the leg and kicked back, he didn't pull his punches fighting Kon and normally would think nothing of it. This time though, he hesitated which meant he missed, an event which startled them both so badly that Tim stumbled and Kon missed catching him.

“Robin… are you sure you're okay?” Kon asked worriedly but Tim ignored the question. He used the momentary distraction to push himself up and used that momentum to go on the attack again. He struck without hesitation this time and knew as usual that his knuckles would be now bruised then Kon’s skin. Kon barely responded, he grabbed Tim's arm and swung him around making him skid back before he ran forward again.

He forced himself not to hesitate even as he more deeply analyzed how this felt then he ever had before, was fully aware of the impact of his feet and fist on the flesh of the man he loved. Because despite what everyone thought he was aware of his feelings for Kon. It was just… complicated.

By the time Robin finally stood still they were both breathing heavily, and Tim felt a little bit better. He sighed and ran his hands back through his fair, nodded to Kon and then wandered off the mat, sitting down on the edge of the mat and crossed his legs. After a moment Kon came and sat down next to Tim quietly.

“So, are you ready to talk?” Kon asked after a bit of comfortable silence.

“Ya, Ya I guess so. But you have to keep it to yourself alright? I don’t want anyone else on the team to know it’s a-” He struggled for a moment to think of what to say. “A family matter.”

“Of course. I won’t tell anyone. If you don’t want to talk about it here we can go somewhere else,” Kon offered.

“No that’s alright,” Tim said, shaking his head. “We’re alone right?”

“Ya, we are,” Kon confirmed, he would hear if anyone was eavesdropping.

“Alright,” He was quiet again for a minute trying to figure out how best to say this before deciding to just spit it out. “I saw Jason hit Danny yesterday.”

“What?!” Kon spluttered, his eyes wide and confused.

“They have an agreement, because Danny is durable and heals quickly, and Jason has anger issues Jason takes his anger out on Danny. But it looks awful, Jason is so violent and Danny still bruises and bleeds.

“Nightwing and I went to try and talk about it with them, try and stage an intervention I guess? Danny was absolutely furious and made Nightwing leave immediately but he let me stay because they feel protective of me I guess. Danny explained the bit about the arrangement to me, before that I just knew that Jason hit him.

“He said that it’s no true harm, it’s a bonding thing for them even. He likened it to us sparring. He asked if knowing I can hit you as hard as I can without hurting you really helps, if it feels good to work out my frustration on you knowing I can't actually hurt you.” He sighed, combing his fingers through his hair again. “And it doesn't.

“Is that bad? I mean, he's right, it does feel good. It looks worse that Danny doesn't fight back at all but you can't fight at your full strength either when we spar so the fight you put up is performative to make me feel better more then anything, is that materially different?

“I have a feeling that if I asked you not to fight back you probably would just let me. I didn't ask earlier because I didn't want to find out, not really.”

“Ah,” Kon sounded, looking down and to the side and rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess I wouldn't, if you asked. But you're not hurting me Tim, we're sparring. It's different, it's not wrong. So I guess if that's what they're doing it's not so bad it's it?”

“That's what I think too but at the same time I don't know if that's because it's true or because it's to painful to think about my brother being an abuser and me being like him,” Tim sighed and leaned against Kon’s shoulder who hesitated and then wrapped an arm around Tim’s shoulders.

“You're a good person Rob, and so is Hood. It's okay, you're not doing anything wrong when we spar, it keeps both of us sharp and… calm, and it does help me feel closer to you,” Kon assured.

“Thanks Kon. I really, I really like you, you know?” Tim said softly.

“I really like you too Tim, and when you're ready to get past those fears of commitment you know I'm here, right?” Kon asked softly.

“Right, thank you for being patient. I think it will be soon,” Tim promised, snuggling a little closer to Kon’s side.

#dc x dp #jason todd #danny phantom #dead on main #timkon #tim drake #kon el kent #Hyena!Danny AU #multi part fic #my writing #fanfiction

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thinkwosolife23 · 1 year ago

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Protect Her, Alessia Russo

Being a police officer was an incredibly demanding job; both physically and mentally. You had seem some things that no human should ever had to see, you were made to work stupidly long hours and everyday you were putting your life on the line.

But it was your dream job. It was you ever wanted to do. From being a little girl, you always dreamed over becoming a police officer. You dreamed of making a difference in the world, to help make the world a safer place to be in. Being a woman made the process of becoming a police officer a hell of lot more difficult. People had constantly doubted your capabillity and your quality as a police officer because of your gender. So, it fuelled you all the more. And at 22, you stand as the youngest Chief Constable of the police force.

Having your dream job was amazing but nothing will ever beat the feeling of being able to go home to your dream girl. You had met Alessia at the Euros. Along with a few others, you were assigned as security for the England Women's Team throughout the Euros. You had managed to muster up the confidence to ask her out after the Euros Final and it all went from there. Up until a few months ago, you and her were over 4 hours away from each other. Her being in Manchester and you being in London. But when she signed for Arsenal you had asked her to move in with you and it had been more than a dream to live with her. You had now been together for a little over a year.

Speaking of your girl, you had just got back home after a long and grueling 12 hour shift. All you wanted was to be with your lover.

"Sweetheart, I'm back home." You shouted as you made your way into your home, taking your work boots and vest off on the way leaving them bye the front door.

"I'm upstairs, Babe. I'm just on a live." She souted back to you, causing you to run up the stairs making your way to yours and Alessias shared bedroom.

There she was, sat by her dressing table chatting away to her phone as if there was nothing else around her. You walked over to where she was sat, wrapping your hands over her shoulders before kissing her forehead. As soon as she felt your prescence , she jumped up from her seat. Standing in front of you, wrapping her arms around your neck, leaning up to place multiple pecks on your lips, not wanting to show too much PDA on her live.

You went and sat where she was sat in front of her phone before patting your lap signalling her to sit. Her arms coming around your neck whilst one of yours was wrapped possessively around her waist and the other resting on her thigh making sure she didn't slip off you.

"I've missed you." You whispered to her, as you tucked your head in the crook of her neck placing a kiss there.

"I've missed you too, but babe we're on a live." She laughed slightly, her hands came to pull your head out of her neck. You immediately falshed her an innocent smile, telling her that you didn't think you were doing anything wrong.

You and Alessia spent the next half an hour on live, talking to the fans and answering all sorts of questions, before you both said bye and ended the live.

As soon as Alessia put her phone down and ended the video, you stood up with her still in your hold. You turned around and put her on your bed before climbing over the top of her. Your hands resting either side of her head, hovering you face just inches away from hers.

"I forgot how good you looked in uniform." She said whilst grabbing your top, pulling you down so your lips met hers. The kiss messy and passionate; not being able to have each other's physical touch for the last 12 hours was really showing.

"Hmm, is that so?" You questioned, pulling your lips from hers before dipping your head into her neck going for the spot you know makes her like putty in your hands.

You were suddenly distracted from your current activities when you heard a smashing sound coming from downstairs. Alessia body just froze whilst you quickly sat up, recognising that someone else was in your house. The sound of smashing and footsteps ran through your house.

Your officer instincs soon kicked in, standing up to make your way out of your bedroom to make your way downstairs.

"Less, darling i've got to go downstairs." You whispered to her, trying to make sure that you weren't heard.

"Y/N, i'm scared." She told you, the fear she held was evident on her face, her eyes becoming red showing that she was trying not to cry.

You reached over and pulled her so she was sat on the edge of your bed, you standing inbetween her legs. You hands gently grabbed her face so she was looking up at you before telling her, "Hey, look at me. I will not let anything happen to you. I'll do anything, everything to make sure I protect you. I'll keep you safe. But sweetheart, to do that, I need to go downstairs."

"Let me come with you."

"No, Alessia. I can't risk that. I need you stay up here." You told her sternly, hoping the use of her name re-enforced your seriousness.

Her arms gripping tight around your waist, her face digging in to your stomach.

"Less. I need you stay in here, I need you to call the police for me."

"No one's gonna be calling the police!" A low, unknown voice stated but before you could turn around you felt something smash against your head, causing you to drop to the floor.

You heard Alessia gasp at what she had just seen. You managed to reach for the back of your head and when you brought your hand back round, it was covered in blood.

It took you another few minutes to again understand what was happening, the impact on your head was hard enough to make you feel dizzy and confused.

You looked over one side and Alessia was still sat on the bed, completely frozen in her spot, looking down at you. Tears streaming down her face.

You turned your hear and looked to see that whoever was in your house, was face deep routing through yours and Alessias drawers. This was your chance, your only chance.

You had to keep her safe. You had to protect Alessia.

So, you managed to muster up the energy to quickly get up and run towards him and take him down to the ground.

Then, it became a brawl. You managed keep him on the ground until another spell of dizziness hit you giving him the opportunity to take control. To which he did, kneeing your harshly in the stomach. Rolling the pair of you over, so that now he was on top: you tried to fight him off but your dazed state was clearly making you weaker.

And then you felt it.

He had put a knife straight into your stomach before pulling it out meaning that a substancial amount of blood was pouring out of your stomach.

Before anything else could happen, he was quick to get up and dash out of your house. The realisation of what he had just done was kicking in.

As soon as he left the room, Alessia came running towards you. Taking her hoodie off, putting over the bleeding mess on your stomach. You groaned at the pressure that was on your stomach, the pain was becoming unbearable. You felt Alessia pull your head onto her lap, beginning to feel her tears falling onto your face.

Your vision was becoming blurrier and sounds were muffled but you could just about make out that Alessia was on the phone.

You could feel your eyes beginning to close, the blood loss becoming too much for your body to cope with.

"Baby, NO! You need to stay awake for me. The ambulance are on the way." She said, placing a kiss on your forehead. Her voice muffled, due to her crying.

"I love you, Less." You told her, through ragged breathing and slurred words.

Alessia could hear how strained your voice was, the pain you were in was clearly showing through your voice.

"No, no. You don't need to tell me that. Baby, your okay." Her tears flowing worse now, the realisation of what you were actually trying to tell her was not what she wanted to think about.

But you didn't get the chance to reply, your body shutting down due to your pain and the amount of blood you had loss.

Alessia's crying was the only sound running through your house as she looked down to see that you had closed your eyes and your body had become a dead weight on her legs.

The ambulance and police got there minutes after that. The paramedics were quick to take you to the ambulance and rush you to the hospital. The whole journey Alessia hand never left your, right the way until they had to take to you to hospital.

Alessia sat there in the waiting room waiting for news about you. She had rang her parents who were currently in Manchester so it would take them a couple of hours to reach the hospital. So, she rang Leah who was straight down to the hospital.

"Oh, Less. I'm so sorry sweet." She told her whilst sitting next to her wrapping her into a hug.

Alessia leaning into Leah's hold, the weight of the afternoon completely taking a toll on her body. Leah couldn't tell her she weren't worried, Alessia's reaction didn't exactly bring any sort of reassurement to her. On Alessia's team, Leah and Ella were definatly the ones you were closest too. The amount of double dates Alessia had dragged you on with Ella and Joe was just insane,

Alessia were waiting another couple of hours before anything happened, it was getting closer to the time where everyone was made to leave the hospital but Alessia still had no news.

"I'm not going. Just can someone please tell me whats going on." She told one of the docters, tears flowing on her face all over again.

"Miss Russo. Y/N Y/L/N, her surgery went well, she is stable but she needs rest, which is why we have put her into a coma. I suggest you go home and get some sleep before seeing her." The doctor told Alessia, re-assuring her that things went aswell as they could.

"C'mon Less, you can stay at mine tonight and we can come back tommorow and see her, yeah." Leah said, putting her arms over Alessias shoulder leading her out of the hospital.

The next few days were a blur for Alessia. She didn't go to training but Leah had explained why she wasn't there and Jonas had contacted Alessia letting her know that everyone was thinking of you and her. Her parents and brothers had got to the hospital the next morning.

Alessia spent all day by your bedside: holding your hand, telling you her favourite memories and what she wants to do with you in the future.

4 days after your surgery, the doctors were happy with how your body was healing and took the tubes away that were helping you breath. Meaning your were breathing by yourself again.

The next day, Alessia was in the hospital as early as she could be, exactly like the other days. Making her way towards your room, sitting by your bed, taking ahold of your hand.

But today was different, she finally felt you try and squeeze her hand.

"Y/N, baby. Can you hear me?" She asked you, her voice soft so she didn't startle you.

"Less?" You groaned. Your face scrunching up as your eyes were reacting to the bright light above you.

"Yeah, i'm here. I'm right here." Her eyes beginning to water, her emotional side getting the better of her.

"Please don't cry, i'm okay."

"I was so scared, I thought I was going to lose you." She said whilst crying still, both her hands now gripping yours.

"Come here, Less." You slid over to the side of your bed so that Alessia could lay there aswell.

She carefully got up onto your bed, lifting her arm up so you could rest your head on her chest. You groaned as you lent down on her, the pain was still there in your stomach. You wrapped your arms around her waist whilst one of hers gently rubbed your back, the other pushing your hair out of your face.

"Hey, it'll take more than some scrawn to kill me off. You stuck with me, love." You told her, trying to make light of the situation.

"I'm perfectly fine with that." She told you, laughing at your way with words.

"I love you, Y/N"

"I love you too, Less. So much."

#woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x y/n #awfc #arsenal women #leah williamson #arsenal wfc #engwnt #lionesses #woso fanfics

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shadybiotics · 7 months ago

Text

R e d d e r d a y s

× pairing: venture x reader

× words: 1588

× content : afab!reader, cozy, comfort, fluff, period talk, sfw

× summary: You are on your period, not feeling well at all and thus missing from todays training. Venture noticed your absence and decided to check up on you.

[ A/N ] : I was on my period when i started writing this and needed some comfort. Also, for clarity, imagine this is a 2016 ow situation where everyone shares one base with their own rooms etc got it? cool.

You were currently at the shared Overwatch base. Todays agenda included some basic training and an annual rundown of the safety protocol during combat. These were both some of the lighter activities you had the chance to be a part of but even still, you wouldn't be able to attend as you felt like death walking.

You were on your period and you felt awful. In every way imaginable. Your skin tingled with hot and cold flashes, your insides felt funny and you weren't sure if you were going to vomit or faint first.

So you had to skip out on todays activities and stayed in your bunk instead, wrapped in your favourite blankets in your bed. And it turns out that somebody else had similar plans for today.

knock! knock! knock!

A quick succession of sturdy knocks at your door took your attention off of your phone that you've been scrolling on for the past hour or so.

"Who is it?" You tried to groan loud enough for the other person to hear with the little energy you had.

"Its Sloane! I heard you weren't coming to training today and wanted to come by and check up on you! If that's okay I mean."

So it was just Sloane, but why weren't they at training, you wondered. Not giving it much more thought than that you let them in.

The metallic door opened with a click and slid with a heavy swoosh and in entered Venture, wearing their comfiest sweater and some slacks.

"Oh, whats up with you?"

"Not feeling well" You answered shortly, still laying limp in your bed.

"I can tell that" Venture said with a soft chuckle.

"Im on my period" You said a little quieter as they walked over and carefully sat on the bed beside your legs.

"Ooooh yeah you don't look too good" That comment left their lips faster than they could think. You squinted and stared daggers in their direction the moment your brain registered what they said.

"Oops, sorry, didn't mean it like that" they said with a laugh. Venture had a quick glance around your room, mainly noticing the mess on your bedside table. An empty water bottle and a mug, some candy wrappers and a pack of pills. Painkillers, they assumed.

Embarrassment and shame shot through the layers of your discomfort when you noticed them analyzing your room. It was a mess, yes, there were clothes hanging about and a general mess on your desk as well that you didn't feel like cleaning. You swore you would get to it soon.

Venture gently rested their hand on your leg as they said in their most empathetic voice possible, "Im sorry, I cant imagine what it must feel like".

"Well, don't you... too...?" You questioned carefully.

You didn't want to prod too much, asking felt intrusive and intimate. You didn't want to step on any footing Venture felt uncomfortable with but you also couldn't deny your curiosity. It's only human to wonder.

"Oh, yeah! I do get my periods as well but they're usually not as intense... as yours. Never been actually, guess im lucky"

"Guess you are..." You replied a little gloomier while shifting deeper into your bed, wishing you had the same luxury as them.

"But why aren't you at training then?" You got up slightly, a headache warning to hit at the sudden movement, and scooted further into your bed to give them more room to sit. They followed and sat next to you.

"Honestly? I just wanted to catch up on some reading. There's this book on ancient archeology that -turns out- has some errors printed into it, and the writer shared a new edition, highlighting its previous mistakes and . . . " They went on and on but you couldn't help but zone out soon, concentrating only on the pounding in your head.

Reading. Of course the history nerd skips out on training just so they could read some more. How typical of them, you thought, smiling softly to yourself. Your head flopped onto their shoulder, your neck too lazy to support itself.

"-and i wanted to check up on you." That part caught your attention and made your stomach tense, in a pleasant way.

"Well, you did check up on me..." You whispered, still in a low mood, not feeling any better with time. Venture noticed.

"Aww come on, don't be like that!" They grabbed your sides through your shield of blankets, shaking and prodding you playfully. You only groaned at their attempts to make you feel better.

"Ughhh stop it!" You laughed. As groggy and moody as you were, that did lift your mood a bit. It was cute, you thought, how Venture would try to make you feel better despite your sour attitude.

"Come on, let me help you!" They moved to the edge of the bed, as if they were about to leave, one hand on your thigh. "I know, I'll go to the kitchen and grab you something, hm?"

"I don't have anything stored there right now..." Even though there was a cafeteria, everyone usually brought or made their own food and stored it in the shared kitchen and because of your current state you didn't meal prep anything for today.

"Eh, im sure i can find something we can borrow~" They threw you a wink and wide grin. You chuckled at their mischief. It was clear they were willing to go to great lengths to make you feel even slightly better, a blush crept up your cheeks at the thought. It was so sweet of them.

"So, any special requests?"

You thought for a moment. " Ice cream. Please. Im begging." You dramatically added. "Bring me ice cream, anything else might make me actually vomit..."

They lightly pat your thigh before sliding their hand off. "Alright, one order for ice cream! Be back soon!" they sung before hopping off the bed. They glanced your way with warm eyes before walking out the door, as if to tell you not to go anywhere while they were gone.

They didn't dare to say anything, but you looked so cute like this. You could clearly use some help or support, yet you wouldn't dare to bother anybody for it. They could think of several agents who would come running at your word if need be. It was like trying to help a stubborn sick cat, Venture thought as they left.

And so, you waited.

. . .

Your door slid open again and you saw Sloane hunched over, hurrying inside with a goofy smile, checking behind them as the door slid close. You immediately smiled upon seeing them. Their hand slid under their sweater and you watched as they clumsily pulled out a tub of ice cream that they were hiding. "Ah-cold-cold-cold!" they hissed. You laughed at the scene in front of you.

"Did anybody see you??" You questioned, still in awe.

"Psh! I hope not!" They hopped back on your bed next to you with other things in hand.

"Here is your ice cream" they wiggled their brows at you with a cheeky smile, clearly proud of the little thievery they just accomplished.

"Aaaand, since you have no other plans for today, i brought my book with me! I thought we could go over the errors together." They said excitedly as they pulled out a brand new beige book with golden rims. "It will help pass the time and keep your mind off of that uh, tornado inside you." They flashed their signature smile.

They were really sweet, just so so sweet. The care and consideration they showed for you made you feel so fuzzy inside and you couldn't stop smiling. It was an unusual feeling, but you enjoyed it. You smiled back at them.

"But before then, here, drink some tea, careful! Its hot." They handed you a hot mug of what smelled like... chamomile tea? You weren't entirely sure. "I forgot to ask which one you liked, but i heard this one is meant to soothe and relax... or something like that". They watched intently as you took a careful sip.

"Aah! Hot!" You hissed.

"Told you so" They chuckled at the funny face you made.

You put the mug aside to let it cool off a bit first. Instead, you gladly took the tub of ice cream off of Ventures hands. As you began digging in Venture scooted closer to you again and cozied up next to you in bed and you shared your blanket with them.

. . .

In between Sloanes reading, you would spoon feed them some of the ice cream. Their eyes remained glued to the pages and their voice now a little muffled with their mouth full of the cold sweets.

Sloanes warm voice and the sound of flipping pages proved to be much more relaxing than that tea. Their voice soon melted into the background and you focused on the sound of your own slow, steady breathing as your eyelids began to feel heavy. Soon your eyes fell closed. Still mindful of their presence next to you, you appreciated this moment and cozied up even closer as you shifted more of your weight onto Ventures arm. A soft blush tinted their cheeks as you let out a content sigh.

In turn, Venture lifted their arm, letting you rest on their chest instead. Their arm snaked around you, keeping you close and secure. The rumbling of their voice in their chest soon turned into a lullaby as Sloane continued their reading.

#god.#when is it my turn to be happy.#venture x reader #x reader #overwatch x reader #venture #sloane cameron #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #sfw

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