#This looks cool but took longer than I would have liked h

[exaflux]

More colouring test stuff, mainly for toxin and smoke and other vapoury kinda stuff this time.

Does it count as body horror if he's pulling at his mask when that mask looks like a face?

✨Spooky✨

What is bro actually doing tho

[seresinhangmanjake]

The Harkonnen's Claim

Feyd-Rautha x Atreides!Reader

Summary: Your brother, Paul, took you from Feyd in a vulnerable moment, and if he wants the woman he loves back, he will have to give your brother something in return.

Notes/Warnings: this is part 2 of 2. Ignore canon ages in the timeline. I don’t know what they are, but everyone young is in their twenties, cool? Cool. Dune inaccuracies. Mention of pregnancy (present) and miscarriage (past). Jessica and Paul kind of (very much) suck. Feyd’s a soft boy for our reader. Smutty-ish (18+) and fluffy stuff, tidbit of angst. I'm sure there are spelling mistakes. I read it twenty times, but you know how it is. I think that’s it.

Words: 3300

Feyd Masterlist Part 1

You can’t see him—your eyelids are too heavy—but he’s shouting. Cursing. With each of his grunts glass shatters and metal clangs against the walls. Feminine voices are shrieking in sync with the rageful sounds coming from your lover and his actions. He is scaring them. He shouldn’t be scaring them. It isn’t their fault. 

“Get out!” he yells. 

More shrieks. Multiple pairs of feet rapidly shuffle about. The door slams and then Feyd is sitting beside you on the bed, one hand brushing your hair back from your forehead, the other rubbing up and down your forearm and pulling it onto his lap. 

“My love…” he says, “It’s ok. You’re ok.”

You swallow hard and peel open your eyelids to see his face hovering above you. A sigh leaves his lips when his eyes connect with yours.

“They were only here to help,” you mutter. 

Feyd bites down hard, sharpening the line of his jaw. He has much to say, you know, but he struggles to release his frustration in any manner other than shouting or fighting in the arena. Right now, he can’t do either.

“They did nothing to help,” he softly snaps. 

But he’s wrong. The women he brought in to examine you did exactly as they were told. It’s just that their conclusion upon taking a look at you was not what he, nor you, expected to hear. 

“Considering the excessive bleeding, she seems to have—” the woman paused; you could hear the tremble in her voice “—lost the baby, my Na-Baron. I’m very sorry.”

Neither of you has spoken about heirs or lineage or combining the genetics of Great Houses. You hadn’t even known of your pregnancy until you heard them tell Feyd that you are no longer carrying the child, and yet, you feel a tremendous loss. You instantly wonder what that child would have been. A boy? A girl? Would they have been a warrior like their father? Or more level-headed like their mother? Maybe a combination of both—that would probably be best for everyone.

“We’ll try again when you feel better,” Feyd tells you, leaning down and pressing his forehead into yours. 

Slowly closing your eyes, you reach a hand up to rest on the back of his neck, your thumb caressing between his ear and the curve of his jaw. “Feyd, we weren’t trying to begin with.”

“Does that mean we shouldn’t?” he asks. “You are meant to be the mother of my heir.”

You sigh. “Feyd–”

“You are,” he demands, but you can detect his hidden plea. “You will be.” 

—

They are scared of him—your son—or, at least, she is. 

With your ear pressed against the door, you can hear them in the halls. Mother and son arguing over your value. 

“Get rid of them, Paul, while you still can,” Lady Jessica implores him. “It’s in our best interest. You have no idea the kind of man she will raise that baby to be.”

But Paul has embraced his new role. There’s no hesitation in how he speaks to her anymore. His words are firm, but well-chosen. He truly was born to be a leader, just not the leader the Universe agreed on.  

“The boy will one day be the Baron, and by then, he will have grown stronger than most, his father included,” Paul confirms. “But we only benefit from having that on our side. From Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen’s need for my sister, an alliance will be formed that could last decades, maybe centuries. But if you harm her, he will come at us in a way his House never has before. And if he finds out you also took his child from him then he’ll spend the rest of his life hunting you, me, Alia…Chani…your future grandchildren—he won’t stop.”

Paul sighs. You can picture him running his hand through his curly locks. He’s done that ever since he was a child. From the moment his little hand could reach above his head, his fingers would be playing with that hair. His mother scolded him wherever he did it in front of the other families of great Houses. ‘Makes you appear anxious,’ she would say, and no son of hers was permitted to come off as anything but respectable in front of their equals. She knew of the man he would one day become. But her nagging didn’t help him in the end. 

“Paul, listen to m–”

“QUIET,” he commands in the Voice that seems to ripple through the halls. “You act as if I won that duel without effort. As if I could do it again in my sleep. But not only did he survive what should have killed him, he almost killed me,” he reminds her. “So do not let your hatred for my sister lead us down a vulnerable path.”

You pull your ear away from the door. How strange that you always knew she hated you and yet never heard it from anyone’s lips until now. You can’t say it hurts, but it does affirm that the only thing keeping you alive is the one thing you didn’t want to be: Feyd’s weakness. He’s saving you even though you’re out of reach. You and the baby he put inside of you. 

You run your hand over your clothed stomach. There’s no physical evidence of your pregnancy, but now that you know he’s there you can feel him…somehow. You feel his strength. You feel his grit. You feel what Lady Jessica fears, and you love it. You hope she lives in fear for many years, always keeping one eye on the half-Harkonnen child that her son commanded her to spare. 

The doorknob twists and you quickly back away as Paul steps into your bedroom. His brows pinch when he sees how you’re standing in the middle of the room. You’re not resting, you’re not admiring the scenery outside your window, there’s no book in your hand—you look suspicious. You can practically hear his thoughts. What were you doing, sister? 

“It’s time to go,” he tells you, stepping closer. You don’t have a chance to reply before the command “SLEEP” weaves into your brain. Your eyes close. Your body goes limp into your brother’s arms. Your mind shuts down. You’re gone. 

—

It’s bright. The inside of your eyelids are glowing the same orange shade as the flower your father traditionally gifted you on your birthday. It’s brighter than Caladan and Arrakis. A brightness you know only comes from Giedi Prime’s midday sun. 

You're moving but not by your own feet. Your eyelids flutter to adjust to your surroundings, and when they open, you find yourself tucked against a chest. An Atreides soldier, once your father’s, now sworn to serve your brother. 

“Put me down,” you mumble, but he doesn’t. “Put me down!”

“Put her down if she wants to be put down,” Paul says. “She won’t go anywhere. This is exactly where she wants to be.”

You’re set on your feet, but the soldier’s hand wraps around your bicep as the group comes to a halt. You do a quick glance around. Sixteen soldiers, suitably armed and shields activated. More on the ship likely, ready to attack if necessary. One Bene Gesserit bitch. One intended emperor with the skin of your brother. And you, anxiously awaiting him.

“Atreides!”

Feyd steps out of the Harkonnen fortress alone. He walks down the lengthy walkway alone. He has a blade at his hip, a shield, but no soldiers. You know they are somewhere, though, hiding, waiting for his call if needed.

As the distance between you lessens, tears attempt to blur your vision, but you blink them away. Your legs quiver, and you would collapse to your knees if not for the vice grip on your arm. He’s alive. He’s so beautifully alive. He’s broad, and strong, and he’s stomping toward your brother like a predator honing in on its prey. You didn't know for sure what he would look like after near death, and the last two weeks gave your mind the will to run wild, but he's perfect. Like it never happened.

“Paul, you must reconsider,” Lady Jessica whispers from behind him. “We do not need him.”

“I decide who and what we need,” he says. “My sister, my negotiations.”

She tips her head and steps back into place before shooting you a glare that you refuse to acknowledge.

Feyd is closing in, but his next step is deemed too close for Paul. Weapons are drawn. A blade presses into your neck. Feyd pauses. 

“Give me what's mine, Atreides!” he snaps. 

He’s seething and makes no attempt to hide it as he paces along the invisible line your brother has drawn. His brow is low, a shadow over the blue eyes piercing through Paul’s head. He hasn’t looked at you, but you know he won’t. Not directly. He already knows what your brother has over him and there’s no need to remind him by giving in to the internal panic he’s fighting. 

“Yours?” Paul returns. “She’s not yours yet, Harkonnen, so it would be wise of you to cooperate.”

Feyd practically growls, pale lips splitting to reveal black teeth as Paul gestures for you to stand beside him. The soldier shoves you forward and you turn to smack at his wrist. 

“I know how to walk,” you grumble. “Bastard.”

Paul clasps his hands behind his back. “You want her; that is understandable. She wants to be with you, too. You should have seen how she fell apart when she thought you were dead,” your brother taunts. His tongue clicks to make a tsking sound.

Feyd’s fingers twitch at his side, itching to grab the hilt of his knife. You know a layer of red bleeds across his vision. His thoughts are a jumble of demands bouncing around his skull. Kill. Maim. Destroy. Take what’s yours. But he can’t. And, excluding his uncle, Feyd hasn’t ever faced a situation where he can’t do as he pleases with whatever stands in front of him.

“Do not push him too far, Paul,” you mutter in warning. “He's not alone, either.”

Your brother ignores you, voice raising as he says, “And your son? You would like to have him as well, yes?”

The pacing stops. Feyd’s lips softly part. His eyes widen ever so slightly and he finally looks at you. When you lightly nod, his jaw clenches. 

Paul doesn’t miss the silent communication. “So,” he says, lifting his chin a half-inch, “are we calm now?”

Feyd inhales a deep breath and huffs it out through his nose. He does it again and again, chest puffing out then deflating like an animal desperate to strike. ‘Calm’ isn't exactly how you would describe him—good, you expect nothing less—but he’s not displaying the same heightened level of fury.

“What do you want, Atreides?” Feyd grunts.

“Loyalty,” Paul doesn’t hesitate to answer. “You are my cousin. You love my half-sister and the two of you will share a child, assuming you can behave yourself. Family should inherently be loyal to family, I believe. That’s a fair place to start.”

“To start?” Feyd spits. “Do not play with me, cousin. Tell me all that you want from me now.”

Paul’s lips curve in a slight smile. The same modest smile he used when greeting guests of your father’s. You have your own version of that smile. They are smiles capable of hiding secrets. Like the smiles you would give Lady Jessica in front of your father, and the smile Paul gave Princess Irulan when he formally claimed her hand days after the duel.

However, there are no secrets behind the smile this time. He knows exactly what he wants from your lover and takes pleasure in revealing the totality of it.

“This war is just beginning,” Paul tells Feyd. “The other Houses reject my leadership. You will not. You will make a public declaration that the Harkonnens will fight for me, alongside the Fremen,” he says. “If you refuse to fulfill this, I will return with every fighter I have. My sister will be our primary target and you will fail to protect her…again.”

The disrespect lingers in the air. To force a Harkonnen to kneel to an Atreides is a power Feyd once told you only you possess. But it appears Paul has forced an unexpected exception.

“There's nothing for you to debate, I imagine,” Paul says. “Not when it comes to the woman you love and your child.”

Paul gives a winning smirk at your lover’s silence—Feyd’s glare is answer enough. 

With a hand firmly on the center of your back, your brother guides you forward. “Go on,” he instructs. “There's no reason to keep him waiting.”

You turn your head back to Paul, expecting a trick, but when he nods in encouragement you rush over to Feyd in a light jog so as not to get tangled up in the skirts you can’t wait to tear off your body. A pale hand reaches out for you and curls around your waist when you’re close enough to be pulled against his chest. A kiss lands on your hairline before his forehead falls to rest on yours. 

“You're not hurt?” he asks. 

“I'm fine,” you promise him. 

“This will never have to become complex, Harkonnen,” Paul calls from his side. Your heads raise to look at him. “Your House now fights for mine. If loyalty is upheld, personal lines will not be crossed. In other words, your child and woman are safe from me as long as my empress, concubine, and children are safe from you.”

Feyd’s Adam’s apple bobs harshly with his hard swallow; another practice in tamping down his rage.

“I’m glad we can all walk away from this satisfied,” Paul continues, grinning ear to ear. “Except for my mother, of course. Were she given her way, my sister would be cut open on the floor and her womb ripped out of her. She doesn’t believe a Harkonnen can exercise restraint and respect agreements. I’m sure you’ll prove her wrong.”

Your dress tightens at your waist from Feyd’s fingers fisting into the material. “Keep your head,” you gently whisper. “Let him go.”

“You have three days to officially announce your allegiance,” Paul tells the two of you before turning to his ship. He enters first, followed by his mother who gives you a final look of disapproval, and then, two-by-two, his soldiers. Not until they’re a speck in the sky does Feyd place a hand on your cheek, guide your face to his, and seal his lips to yours. 

—

He intends to burn the dress to ash in the built-in incinerator that the Harkonnens consider a fireplace. Before now, you haven’t seen it demonstrate its purpose. Feyd refused. “We do not need that,” he would tell you, somewhat offended when you would request a bit more warmth in the middle of the night while he was next to you. He’d strip himself of any clothing he might’ve been wearing and tuck you into his side. “See? You’re fine now.”

Tonight, however, he’s quick to turn the thing on and let it heat up as he takes his knife to the back of your gown, slicing through the buttons that trace along your spine until the material slips off your body. He helps you out of the ring of destroyed fabric at your feet before wadding it into a ball and tossing it into the flames. 

Feyd hums, satisfied, then piece by piece the armor falls from his form until he’s bare with his body to yours, his lips sucking and nibbling, fingers kneading and exploring, cock easing in and out of your core. You cry as he bites into your neck, and soak in the moment for what it is compared to what it could have been had he not survived. How alone you would be. How distraught over what would become of you.

But he did survive. He’s here. You have him. His lips and teeth and touch and cock and heart—all yours. You have the warmth of his breath that brushes your face and neck and shoulders. You have his groans and moans; the perfect sounds he makes when he first enters you and when he cums. Everything you thought you’d lost is wrapped tightly in your arms. Safe. Protected.

He finishes inside of you twice, and as he begs for one more, the ache between your thighs tempts you to remind him he already got you pregnant. But when you study the tenderness in his eyes, your desire refreshes, the pain washes away, and you can’t get enough. You take until he can no longer give—when all he has the energy for is holding and kissing. 

Feyd leans over you in the bed, your legs intertwined under the sheets and his hand at the back of your head as his mouth moves with yours. 

“W-Wait,” you say between kisses. He hums against your lips and when you tilt your head back, he makes a noise of protest before joining them again. “I-I’m ser-ious.”

With his brow pinched, he pulls back to stare into your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth as you search for a delicate way to question the effectiveness of his new authority. “Feyd, what’s going to happen? What will everyone think?” you ask. “Your people? Your soldiers?”

“That’s what bothers you right now while in this bed with me?” You nod. He sighs. “I observed my uncle in his time as Baron. I’m capable of explaining these changes in a manner that will have them think nothing of it. Should an outlier take issue, they will face the known consequences. The rest will do as I command,” he says, emphasizing his words with another kiss. “Just as they will do as you command and as our son will one day command.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be silly. No one on Giedi Prime will listen to me,” you tell him. “My voice doesn’t mean anything to them.”

“They'll respect the voice of their Baroness.” 

Your brows raise. “Your wife?”

Feyd smirks and dips his head into the curve of your neck to lick and suck at sensitive skin. “Do you have objections, my love?”

It would be a lie to say you haven’t imagined being Feyd’s wife. It didn’t occupy your every thought, but it crossed your mind. Like when he would pluck out the eyes of the men who leered at you or remove the tongues of those who scoffed when you spoke. Or when you would watch him sleep and his face was unable to maintain the hard, stony stare that he brought back with him after dealing with his uncle. He’d be serene, the epitome of peace, and it was so lovely that sometimes you couldn’t help yourself. You would kiss his puffy lips until he woke to reciprocate, which led to him spreading your legs wide and stuffing his hard column of flesh between your folds. His ability to be gentle in his cruel world was how you knew he would be a good husband—to you, anyway. You have no idea the fate of his marriage were there a different bride.

His tongue runs over the bite mark and you gasp. “N-No.”

Lips trail along your jawline as his hand slides from the base of your neck between the valley of your breasts to settle on your stomach. 

“He'll be strong,” Feyd says, looking at you. “Our boy.”

You chuckle. “Stronger than you, I heard.”

Feyd swallows, then nods in acceptance. “Good. He’ll need to be,” he says, thumb stroking just above your navel. “The only Atreides my son will answer to is his mother.”

A/N: i'd be open to doing future fics for them if anyone is interested. you can send in requests if you want, no pressure. I have a different feyd fic in the works atm as well

@unicoreads @haehwasworld @moonsoulk @lothiriel9 @landlockedmermaid77 @vintageroses10 @mamawiggers1980 @mrsjobarnes @aoi-targaryen @buckysteveloki-me @pao-prazz @skel-skell @barnes70stark @pekusofixus @vanilla88 @niragiswhore @benwishaw

[lilpotatjj]

Cait and Sam watching their own wedding night episode? Yes aaand no. We all know what these two lovebirds did...like come on who wouldn't? I escalated a wee bit. That's one of my longest Oneshots (almost 5000 words) and I'm gonna continue this with a hugh story about them. Living the forbidden lie in all his cuteness.

Warning: starts with super fluffy and lovely cuteness and turns into a soft 18+ hot mess. Sam beeing Sam and Cait beeing most of the time Cait with slightly cute shyness

(Credits to the Gif owners)

♡Chap.1-Directing their own happy hour♡

A crazy year is over. Filming has long since been completed and the premiere of the first season is over. Several interviews have been held and the first episodes are already on TV. It's September, cool and unpleasantly rainy in LA this year and the day before the premiere of the seventh episode. It's called 'The Wedding Night'.

Cait was out and about, drenched after a conversation with one of the co-producers. It was up in the air whether there would be a second season, but the prospects looked good. She didn't think to bring an umbrella. Why in LA, where it is usually quite warm, even in September.

She ran to her car, the newspaper just over her head for protection, and got in. 'Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ... What the hell is wrong with this weather?' she cursed and was completely soaked. She quickly switched on the engine and turned up the heating. As she drove off, her mobile phone suddenly rang in its holder on the dashboard of the car. 'Hey Sam,' she said simply and focussed on the road.

'Have you been bathing?' he asked wryly, obviously making himself comfortable.

'Very funny...the weather in LA almost reminds me of home,' she was finding it difficult to speak. She was shaking a little and had trouble concentrating. 'I'll call you later if it's unfavourable?' he asked and she said no, perhaps a little too quickly. 'Ah ok' he paused for a moment. 'Tell me what's going on, I'll be fine' she said with chattering teeth and he had to smile, sitting up straight again and looking thoughtful. 'What do you think about travelling to my place and I'll tell you what's going on when you've warmed up at my place?' he asked sincerely without any ulterior motives.

Her cheeks flushed, which wasn't just because she was cold. 'All right, I'm on my way. The same hotel as always?' she asked and he replied with a quick "Yes". The rain didn't stop, on the contrary, it even got heavier. She parked the car in one of the parkingslots in front of the hotel and dashed inside as quickly as she could. Once inside, she asked at reception for the surname Heughan. The servant nodded conspicuously. 'Ah yes, Mr Heughan, he had informed me. He's in room 0410,' he said and with a very friendly smile, he pointed down one of the corridors. Cait thanked him and walked towards his room. Once there, she knocked on his door without thinking. He opened it for her and looked her up and down briefly before she simply entered his hotel room. He looked after her, slightly amused, and went into the bathroom.

When he came out again, he found her standing by the radiator, shivering slightly. He went to her and put a towel over her shoulders. She looked at him gratefully and unconsciously smiled far too sweetly. 'Thank you,' she said quietly and his eyes stayed on hers for longer than he wanted. The reason why he grabbed her towel and started playfully rubbing her hair dry. 'You should bring an umbrella next time,' he said with amusement. 'It wasn't raining when I was out' she gave him an annoyed look as he then went to the wardrobe to lend her some of his own clothes.

'Here' He held the clothes out to her wordlessly and she took them hesitantly. 'It's not going to stop raining that quickly for now. You can spend the night if you want. I'll sleep on the couch,' he said as he looked out of the window. She gave him a look of disbelief. 'Oh come on, we slept anywhere on set where there was space and time. You can sleep in the bed with me' she said dryly without thinking about it and Sam turned to her with his typical look, eyebrow raised slightly, he nodded.

She was right. Time on set was often pretty tough. Sometimes there was no time to sleep and filming often lasted well over 24 hours. Sometimes one of the props or simply a bench was a comfortable place to sleep for a short break. But now they are no longer on set, there is no one around to watch them.

'What did you want to talk about?' she asked curiously as she came out of the bathroom, dressed in one of his big hoodies. She almost sank into it and yet it looked great on her. 'Right, exactly... I wanted to ask you if you'd like to watch tomorrow's episode of Outlander with me' he said and she looked at him curiously. 'What episode was it again?' she asked, rubbing her face tiredly. 'The seventh episode,' he said, unconsciously tense. 'oh ok' came from her, benignly ignorant. 'What's the name of the episode, I'm just too tired to remember which one the last one left off at,' she said, pouring herself a sip of the wine on the table.

'The Wedding Night...' She choked and coughed for a moment. Now it dawned on her. It was that episode. She remembered all the scenes on set too well.

'Are you ok?' he asked without making any facial expressions. 'Yes... I'm sorry,' she apologised and put her glass down again for safety reasons. 'But we're going to need more wine,' she said with amusement and her grin was almost unpleasant. The mood was strange. He scrutinised her carefully while she just stared at the wine, motionless and thoughtful.

She looked slowly at him, his gaze still fixed on her. You would have thought he was burning every corner of her face. It made her nervous, but not in an unpleasant way. She felt the heat in her cheeks and stood up abruptly. 'I think I've spilt...I'll be right back' she disappeared into the bathroom in a flash. She was aware of what was happening, or so she thought, but she was still unsure. He was and is her co-partner. What would the media say, Starz or everyone involved in the big picture? She didn't realise she was breathing faster.

'Cait, are you all right?' he asked anxiously from behind the door. 'Y..yes...I'll be right back.' She splashed water on her face and then came out again. 'And you're sure we should sleep in the same bed?' he asked with raised eyebrows, almost admonishingly. 'That's fine, it's ok,' she said dryly and gave him a cheeky look. She stood in front of him. He was so tall that she always had to look up at him. 'But only if you change too...I doubt you want to sleep in those jeans...you already hated them on set' she looked at him challengingly and tugged at his collar. He enjoyed her closeness. It was clear that he had had feelings for her for some time. It was impossible not to, given the sight of her and her wonderful character. But whether she would ever be serious about him was an open question. He doesn't push her, gives her room to manoeuvre and is patient. Like a crocodile patiently waiting to snatch its prey.

He gave her a charming smile and went to his wardrobe, took out more comfortable clothes and looked at her briefly. She sat down on the couch and unconsciously inspected him as he disappeared into the bathroom. He didn't miss her gaze and when he came out again, he saw her sitting on the couch with her head resting on her hand. She grinned at him. 'Do you want to watch something or are you too tired and want to go to sleep?' he asked solidly, closing the curtains. He turned round and noticed that she already had jumped into bed. She snuggled into the big duvet. He laughed briefly and shook his head playfully. 'well...I take it you've had a full day today...want to talk?' he came round and lay down in bed too. They both looked at each other, snuggled together under a blanket, she was quiet for a moment and had to look at him. It's a completely different feeling alone without people from the set. Far away from all the other trailers, other people or cameras. There was no one here. The thought of it made her heart beat gently faster and she almost forgot to speak, let alone breathe, at the sight of him.

'Yeah...I had a call today and two other annoying appointments before that. I've been travelling all day...then there's the rain...I'm honestly glad to be with you right now' the last words came out of her innocently and unusually meekly. She is usually the type of person who says what she thinks, with consideration for the feelings of others. But it's easier with him. She can be whatever she wants, let herself go with him. He listened to her quietly and attentively.

'Sam... what is it between us?' She looked him in the eye and tried to understand the moment. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face with a wave of his hand, ignoring his own pounding heart. 'We're just lying here talking,' he replied briefly in a low voice. Jesus, can't he stop being cute for once? Struggling to concentrate from his voice and the sight of him, Cait swallowed with difficulty, unable to find an answer.

It was so quiet. Neither of them said anything. Her breathing was much faster and without thinking she snuggled up to him, hiding her face in his chest to hide her burning cheeks. She could hear his heart beating softly and realised that it was also much faster. Sam took her carefully in his arms and decided to remain silent for the time being, to savour the moment. He could smell her hair and buried his face in it a little, kissing it and noticed her smile. He did the same and had to smile. As always, no one needs to say anything to understand.

The sun's warm rays tickled Cait's cheeks and she moved slowly. A large, warm body lay close to her. You really don't need a heater when you're lying next to this 1.92m tall man. She grinned happily as she realised who it was. He was still asleep. She took this moment to observe his sleeping form. He looked so content and balanced, still holding her tightly in his arms.

His calm breathing was soothing, like a lullaby. It was nothing new, sleeping with him, hearing his breathing, feeling him against her, his embrace and yet this time it was completely different. She felt a tingling in her stomach at the mere thought of wanting to touch him. It made her nervous and she suddenly looked away from him only to look back at him again. Her gaze kept switching between his lips and the air she was trying to stare into. No Cait...you better not. Once you start, it will end badly... she thought to herself and thought back to their time on set. They often kissed away from the camera. Out of spontaneous situations to practise, of course...right? The heat rose in her face again. She tried to control her thoughts, but her heart was making it damn hard. She didn't even realise that she had come closer to him, her face close to his, her breathing as if she were climbing a mountain that was out of reach. However, with an unmistakable sound in her voice, she freed herself from his grip in a flash and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Without realising it, she was sweating. She clutched her forehead and tried to get her breathing under control. Damn Balfe, a little more self-control! Her thoughts were waging a war she was in danger of losing. He opened one eye and watched her actions. She flinched slightly as he began to stretch and looked slightly to the side in his direction. He couldn't help but grin self-consciously. She was so cute. He didn't know her to be that shy or insecure. On set, they could both let Jamie and Claire hang out, kiss or touch each other however they wanted. Nobody would have thought it was anything serious, at least that's what they both thought.

She stood up abruptly and looked nervously at him. 'I'm going to freshen up,' she said briefly and Sam let himself fall into his pillow with a smile. He wanted the time to last. To savour this precious moment, just with her...just with Cait.

He made breakfast and the rest of the day was relaxed. Except for a few little things Sam had to do this time, the day was uneventful. Cait spent the time in his room and fell asleep on his couch once again. She was far too tired from the last few days, not to mention the previous night. Snuggled up with one of Sam's woollen blankets, she slept peacefully. The blanket smelled wonderfully of him and transported her to dreamland far too quickly. When the Scotsman returned later that day, he saw her curled up on the couch. Still asleep. He put the key away and took off his shoes to go to her. With quiet steps, he stood next to her and looked at her without a word. She looked so innocent. He often did, watching her sleep. Her soft purring when she slept. Her soft smile when he always secretly snuggled up to her, just to be close to her unnoticed. He loved it.

Sam simply stood still for another moment and looked down at her thoughtfully, bent down and got very close to her face. He could feel her breath on him. The corner of his mouth twitched impatiently and he gave her a delicate kiss on her soft lips. His heart did what it wanted and almost ran away from him, but he didn't care. The kiss was short and so gentle that Cait didn't wake up, at least that's what he thought and realised he was wrong. The ball of blanket and the supposed Mrs Fraser inside it moved gently. She opened her eyes just a crack to somehow recognise what in God's name was happening. Sam was already scurrying about, unpacking a few things he'd been shopping for. There were a few bottles of wine and something to nibble on.

She sat up in a daze, her hair in a wild mess and yawned tiredly. 'What time is it?' she asked with a husky voice. 'It's already 7 pm. How long have you been asleep?' He brought two bottles of wine to the table and two glasses. 'Too long... Well, I don't think I'll fall asleep that quickly watching TV,' she said with amusement and ran her hands through her hair to fix it a little. 'Are you hungry?' he asked, unpacking a bag at the same time. It was Asian Food. 'Yes,' she replied curtly and watched the Scotsman without realising it. Her gaze was dreamy, as if she was looking at the jackpot she had won. He came over to her and set her something to eat. She had to smile. Of course he knew exactly what her favourite food was. 'Thank you,' she said and they both ate some of the food.

'Do you remember filming the episode?' he asked when he had finished eating.

'Yes, quite a lot. I'm curious how it was edited. Some days were so long and tiring,' she took a breath and looked at him. 'It was sometimes very difficult to stay relaxed and yet... You made it easy for me to shoot the more difficult scenes,' he said with a smile and looked at her in detail. She couldn't avoid his gaze and was caught up in it. She quickly picked up her wine glass and took a good sip.

Cait laughed softly as she remembered. 'Did you remember the scene when Claire said "go to bed"? God, how many times we replayed that just because our producer never liked the look in your eyes and then I said "to fuck" off camera, or so I thought? Your look afterwards was exactly what they wanted to see and it was recorded,' she laughed and took another sip. Sam did the same and poured the red wine down his throat. 'How could I forget?' his voice sounded ironic with an amused undertone. 'At least it wasn't too cold when we were naked for what felt like 24 hours,' he said and poured more wine.

She looked silently into her wine glass after his words, then raised her eyes and literally stared at him. He's like an accident... you don't want to look but you can't help but stare at him with curiosity and anticipation. Too mesmerised by his gaze, she once again couldn't get a word out. He could throw a bone now and she would run after it like a dog. He raised an eyebrow questioningly. 'The episode is about to start,' he breathed so quietly that she had to think for a moment whether she had heard him correctly.

Sam came closer to her, looked deep into her eyes and was tired of seeing her like this. She was literally begging to be touched. The Scotsman didn't hesitate a second longer and kissed her gently yet firmly. Cait was briefly surprised and yet she accepted the kiss without hesitation. As if they had kissed hundreds of times before, he brought her to him by taking her face in his hand. He stroked her cheek tenderly and was the first to break the kiss. Cait just looked at him. She could have sworn her heart was stuck one floor below. He smiled at her and she did the same, returning his smile with a blissful grin. He took the remote control without another word.

The atmosphere was strangely relaxed, but you could just feel the crackle. He switched on the TV and the episode started. She looked over at him expectantly, so he couldn't help but lean over and grab her, cuddling her right next to him against his chest. Cait took a contented breath and drank more of the wine as she savoured his closeness and warmth.

They both made comments here and there and had to laugh and shake their heads when Rupert and Angus burst in. 'I remember one of them fell badly once,' Sam laughed and they both grinned. Then came the scene where Claire asks Jamie to bed. Both the Scot and the Irishwoman watched the scene tensely and had to smile again and again. 'How many times we had to repeat that...but you did a good job,' she said contentedly to distract them from what was actually happening. Jamie grabbed Claire's breast. 'Christ, how many times you made me laugh, Cait...you kept making jokes about my breasts,' Sam said with amusement and Cait turned bright red. 'Well I was nervous as hell...we had to take our clothes off...I was afraid I'd ruin your view of naked women' she said sheepishly and he took her chin and forced her to look at him.

'my god Cait...how can you say that...' he whispered more and she looked at him nervously and slightly guiltily. Before she could say anything, Sam beat her to it. 'Your body is beautiful.' She stared at him and their gazes parted as the scene came where Jamie plopped on top of her and penetrated her. The situation couldn't have been stranger. It was weird for both of them to see each other like this. It looked a thousand times hotter on the screen than when they were both shooting that scene over and over again.

Sam grinned at Claire's sweet words when she said she gets crushed by Jamie. He noticed Cait's tension, she squeezed her legs tightly together and banished all her thoughts to the farthest corner of her brain cells. To no avail. Sam looked down at her and took the wine glass from her hand. How much had they actually had now? Both bottles of wine were empty.

Cait looked at him questioningly, but she knew the answer. Sam slowly stroked her legs and hesitantly approached her face. Her breathing increased, her lower lip quivering in response to his touch. She closed the gap and kissed him. But this time more demanding and with far less restraint. Gripped by what was on the television, Cait pressed herself closer to him and without thinking about it, she sat on his lap. He gasped briefly under the stormy kisses only to continue on her neck. She let out a sigh. A soft, pleasurable sound that he knew all too well. It had almost always driven him crazy when they gave their all during filming and he wasn't allowed to have her completely. Shooting a scene is one thing. Shooting naked is something else, but constantly filming wild sex scenes in the nude with such a beautiful woman is simply torture. With her playful but otherwise confident character, he would have liked to show how much he really liked her. He constantly had to touch her. On her breasts, her body and getting closer to areas with his face that made him want to seriously give up control of himself.

Meanwhile, no matter what was on the television, she only had eyes for her Scotsman. She looked at him dreamily, losing herself in his gaze. Everything about him is so attractive. His hair, which she now clung to in order not to lose her mind. His upper body, his beard and God damn his face, with his ice-cold blue eyes that almost robbed her of her will. She unconsciously moved onto his lap when she realised that he was already more than ready for action. Now she smirked cheekily at him, causing him to bite his lower lip. 'You little beast....now you're showing your true colours,' he said almost choking and his gaze didn't leave hers for a second. Somehow they knew it, but it was different here too. He took off her hoodie and just looked at her for a moment. As if he couldn't believe what he saw, he grabbed her breasts as if he wanted to make sure they were the same as usual. He kissed one of them gently and played around with the other.

She leant her head back with pleasure and let him do his thing. 'Sam....' she breathed and looked at him, slightly dazed. 'You too....' she whispered excitedly and took off his shirt too. She looked at him with red cheeks. It didn't matter whether it was the alcohol or Sam's fault. No matter who she drank from, she would be intoxicated by both. She touched him on the shoulder and ran her fingers down his neck to the area below his belly button, from which a few hairs flashed out. Sam's eyes were fixed on Cait with an expression as if she were made of glyphs and he was trying to decipher them.

She grabbed his belt with her hand and tried to open it, but this turned out to be difficult when sitting. He grabbed her ass and literally threw her on the couch, took off his pants only to stand completely naked in front of her. Her gaze was discreetly surprised and looked at his best piece. She was not prepared for that now. They always wore protection on set, which didn't help much when Sam had a hard-on, but it covered everything. She swallowed and for a second a shy shadow could be seen in her eyes. "We want to stay fair, my dear," he pointed to her pants and came closer to her playfully. She looked at him nervously and had to smile to cover up her nervousness.

"Do you want to continue?" he asked as a precaution and in answer she nodded and looked at him with a cheeky, innocent face. He grinned confidently and helped her undress. There she was, completely exposed with a red glow on her cheeks. They had both played through this position so many times before, but this one moment now belonged to the two of them alone.

He grabbed her by the hand to pull her up to him. Cait stood directly in front of him and looked him in the eye anything but uncertainly. She literally felt his heartbeat, as if the two were synchronously forming a unit. She took his hands and intertwined her fingers in his. "Caitriona you are so beautiful" proudly sounded in his voice and she smiled happily at him. "Just you and me" she whispered lovingly, looked at him longingly and Sam couldn't ask any more questions, because she had just answered them.

He kissed her, longing and greedy, clawed at her ass to lift her up and faltered briefly. There was no cut, nothing that interrupted them despite the swaying and could stop the lust of both. He let himself fall back a little on the couch, with her on his lap, without even thinking about breaking the kiss.

Now nothing went according to the script. He was the director of this scene and decided how to proceed in accordance with his Irish beauty. She enjoyed every touch, every second and breathed heavier as he caressed her breasts. Cait became more impatient and looked at him almost begging. He grabbed her ass again to lift her and positioned her so that Sam could penetrate her without any problems. He smiled... She was more than ready. A groan on her part indicated that the tackle would continue as he was into her completely. The Hugh Scot didn't want to slow down, not to be careful that something unexpected happened.

Cait moved and he adjusted to her. This time he couldn't help but moan quietly. She rested her forehead on his and continued moving. Regardless of the hotel neighbors, neither of them cared how loud they were.

He had to smile at the sight of her. She moaned subtly differently than when they were filming. It sounded the same as always, but there was a hint of honesty in the sound of her lovely voice. The sound that makes his bones tremble and underlines the pleasure he is really giving her. Flowing through the alcohol and the rush of adrenaline that they both experience and that made them both sweat, he felt how aroused she already was. He concentrated on her to give her the moment of happiness, but had great difficulty enduring it, especially with her moaning. She really deeply enjoying it.

'Sam...' damn it, he tried so hard not to lose control, but moaning his name like that almost pushed him over the edge. He gasped heavily and bit her shoulder. Finally, she felt a wave rushing deep inside her and completely flooding her. She moaned louder and let him feel how much he loved her without ever having said it.

'Sassenach!' He gasped at the same time as her and let himself fall completely as he came inside her, clawing a little too hard at her round ass. She sank exhausted onto his shoulder and gasped for air. Completely out of breath, both of them tried to understand the situation they were in.

'Everything ok...Mo Chridhe?' He hesitated at first, but he had to say it. He loved her and had no doubt that this would ever change. She was too perfect, her temperament, her way of dealing with him and her laugh. God, how much he loved her laugh. The Scotsman lovingly wrapped the wool blanket around her and let her get some air, but it was starting to make him nervous because she was still hiding into his chest. 'Is everything ok, Cait?' he asked nervously. She turned her head so that her face was directed towards the crook of his neck and he could feel her breath. He got goosebumps.

'I love you...' she whispered softly to him. Three words that could throw him off balance and almost made his heart stop. A smile twitched across his lips. 'I love you too... Sassenach...' he said lovingly and playfully and felt her smile. 'What do we tell the producers?" she asked, quite worried. 'Nothing at first. It will be difficult to hide it... at least partially. Maybe they'll let us do it and accept the unspoken facts. Filming should be easier for both of us,' he tried to explain and stroked her back. Suddenly he looked at her with a Jamie expression, as if he had traveled through time in just a second. 'Could you now...' he paused briefly.

'What?' now she looked at him confused. 'I mean we didn't use protection...' he got nervous and the Irish woman had to giggle. 'No...that's out of the question, don't worry' she said. He smiled in relief. 'We missed half the episode,' he said and she snuggled up next to him. 'It doesn't matter...we'll watch it again then" she said with a cheeky undertone and he kissed her extensively.

[kira-fluff]

I saw the “Sleeping with no pants on” headcanon and was wondering if you could do a pretty setter squad containing Atsumu, Kageyama and Akaashi please- ☁️

sleeping with no pants on | fem!reader x haikyuu!! [pt. 5]

a/n: i was not expecting everyone to be so obsessed with this prompt but I am LIVING for it. I love you guys so much 🩷 p.s. my lovely, atsumu is actually in pt. 1, but I'm going to switch for twinnie osamu, okay? 💕 also I'm so sorry i was gone for so long. busy busy busy working 3 jobs with college. forgive me if I'm a bit rusty. tw: sorta spicy idk

pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4

osamu miya "hey, 'samu, 'samu." "hm." he replied in a grunt. "'m tired." the two of you had stayed up the entire night trying out new recipes that osamu had thought of when he was supposed to be paying attention in class. so, now here you were at midnight, sprawled out on the couch, exhausted. "'n go 't sleep." "don' wanna drive home." "'n stay." you murmured an acknowledgement, then began slipping off your pants. osamu immediately sobered from his tiredness. "wait, the hell are ya doin'?!" "'m goin' to bed, obviously." "ya can't just take yer pants off with a man in the house!" you let out a little scoff, "oh, get over it." but osamu's mind was already racing. he tried to act cool on the outside, but you were just in your fucking panties and acting like it was no big deal? why were you always so clueless around him??? did you really not see him as romantic material??? osamu couldn't help but stare at the round shape of your ass even as your long shirt covered you. he had scarcely time to begin devouring the sight of your legs when you cleared your throat. "are you.....staring... at me?" he cleared his throat and looked away. "...s-sorry.." you leaned in close, just below his ear. "ya know... if you really wanted it that badly, you could've said something.." you smirked, taking a blanket and covering up your lower half with a conceited smirk, walking away. "h-hey wait! the fuck did ya mean by that?!" he trailed behind eagerly. the rest of the night? well... "just friends" was no longer in either of your vocabulary anymore.

kageyama tobio you friends, after all, nothing more. and you didn't want to make it weird. weirder than it already felt having hidden feelings for your best friend. it getting late after a particularly long study session which involved you trying to drill basic math facts into a brain that only understood volleyball. it was a hopeless endeavor, but you took him getting anything above a "50" as a win. so, you continued to attempt to help him improve his grades. you supposed "attempt" wasn't necessarily the right word, as his scores were generally improving, but sometimes you found yourself wondering if there was really a point to it all after you spent the whole lesson trying to help him relearn everything he misunderstood in the lesson from that day. so here you were, exhausted, with your head down on your table at home, tobio sitting across from you. "hey, kageyama, let's just call it a night." he paused for a moment, then spoke. "....do you want to sleep with me?" if you had any liquid in your mouth, you're certain you would've had a comical spit take. "ah, um, WHAT?" you sputtered, trying to make sense out of what he said. he didn't mean it that way, did he? no, of course not. "it's... late." yep. just offering a place to stay. "it is. but there are still trains. i can take a late one." "just get in my bed." your eyebrows raised. "hey, tobio, a normal person would misunderstand what you just said..." he ignored you. "just sleep with me." your face took on a reddish hue the more times he said it... and he just didn't get it? why was he messing with your heart like this!?!? "um... there are different ways to say that. like... 'want to spend the night?'" "then, spend the night." "why are you being so pushy?" "because i like you." as a friend. yeah. we've been over this. "ok, ok, you've convinced me with the power of friendship. but I'm sleeping on the couch." "no." "yes." "no. my bed has enough room." "not for me!!" you laughed nervously. does this guy even have hormones? like, what the fuck? "....I'm going to go shower. I'll see you in my bedroom." does this guy not understand the meaning of no? still, you found yourself begrudgingly trudging over to his bed, especially after you saw his couch was made with the comfort of a burlap sack. I mean, if he offered, might as well take advantage right? what could go wrong? spoiler: everything goes wrong. you thought he was fast asleep. so, in the stealth of 1000 ninjas, you slid off your sweatpants for the sake of comfort. it wasn't weird, right? oh well. you were tired and damn did he like his room hot. you jumped when you felt him arms wrap around you. then, he stiffened. "...are you not wearing any pants?" "um... maybe..." he sighed. "are you trying to seduce me?" "n-no it's just more comfortable!" he turned you around so you were facing him. "well, whatever you're trying to do, it's working. I don't think I'm going to be able to sleep." "wait, is it because I'm making you uncomfortable?" he went silent for a moment. ".... you could say that." "I'll... just put them back on then. sorry. it's just that your room is really hot and-" "can I kiss you?" you blinked in disbelief. "can you what?" "kiss you" he answered without a beat. you spluttered some more as he slowly leaned it, asking for permission, silently this time. you nodded and closed your eyes. sparks flew as his lips moved against your own and you finally understood what he'd meant when he said "I like you". kageyama tobio was head over heels in love with you, and you hadn't a clue. until now. the two of you broke apart. "...can we... do that again?" he asked brazenly. you leaned forward again in reply.

akaashi keiji akaashi would rather die than confess to you the things he woke up at night fantasizing about. you'd likely be especially mortified if you discovered that one of your most embarrassing mishaps was on a frequent replay in akaashi's brain when he fell asleep. he was supposed to be a gentleman, not some gross pervert that looked at one of his best friends like... that. but since it was all in his dreams, it was impossible to "turn off" no matter how many times he tried to think about something else before he went to sleep. and so, let's recall The Incident shall we? he had come to your house late at night and knocked at the door, fully expecting to see you up and awake as it was the early evening. to his surprise, however, you answered the door groggily, eyes still bleary from exhaustion and sleep. the way you looked would be forever ingrained in his mind. you were blinking back the remnants of sleep, wearing one of his shirts. it hung low on you, but not low enough to cover your supple legs and the white panties that peeked out below the hem line of his shirt. you hadn't noticed yet, either. "... what d' ya need...?" you asked tiredly, rubbing your eye. akaashi swallowed harshly, his brain turned into complete mush. "uhh.. uhh...." goddamnit, MOVE YOUR EYES BACK UP TO HER FACE. were her legs always that long? STOP. when he still hadn't answered, you followed his gaze down to your lower half. he still remembers the succession of events as follows: you blushed, stammered, and then slammed the door in his face. you didn't talk to him for a week. after, you finally awkwardly explained that you sleep without your pants on and that you didn't realize you hadn't put anything on when you answered the door because you were so tired. it sucked that you ignored him. and even that you explained yourself. because all it did was bring those... memories... right back to the forefront of his mind. whenever he saw you in the hall and you'd flush and look away, he was immediately brought back to the sight of your bare legs. when you stumbled through your explanation, his mind reeled back to those white panties. and he hated it. what kind of friend looks at their friend that way? but he knew in his heart that what he was feeling for you was beyond sexual attraction when, in his dreams, you smiled at him. and told him you loved him. and so, what if he dreamt a little longer? hopefully you'd forgive him. and maybe someday he could tell you how you made him feel...

[satorusugurugurl]

Heyyy👋 can you write reader catching modern au! Sukuna masturbating🫣 and she helps him out

Come Home

Summary: With his brothers at school and a day off work, Sukuna is alone in bed when his thoughts trail off to you. There's only one reasonable thing to do.

Pairning: Modern AU! Sukuna x FAB! Reader

Word Count:1,657

Warning: Masturbatons, oral sex, horny sexy sex.

A/N: Yes! Y’all know how I love self-pleasure!! Woot Woot!

“Lunch?”

“Check!”

“Phone?”

“Check!”

“Gym clothes?”

“Double check!”

“Awesome, cool,” Sukuna shoved his younger brother towards the door. “Go on, get the fuck out.”

Choso and Yuuji glanced at each other before looking at their older brother. He was in a poor piss mood. He had been all week. The two brothers shared a glance before Sukuna narrowed his eyes at them. It was probably because you were on a week-long girls’ trip. And while he would never admit it, his brothers knew how much you meant to him.

“What?” He asked, running a hand over his face.

“Nothing! Have a great day!”

As soon as they were no longer visible, Sukuna slammed the door shut. He'd been so annoyed every little thing ticked him off. Work, his brothers, everything! He'd been blowing his top, more on edge than usual.

If you had been here, you would have been able to ease his stress. You could talk him down from any edge. From the way your hands massaging his shoulders, working the tension out. By the way, you took over whenever the boys would give him a hard time. He hated to admit it, but you made him a better person. And what was even worse was that he liked it. Damn, fuck, he like the person he was becoming because of you.

You, all of you. Sukuna groaned, shutting his eyes tight as you invaded his mind. You soft Y/H/C, how your eyes lit up, how your smile could melt him. Everything about you was perfect in his eyes. Your voice, the way you smelled, the sound of your voice.

“Sukuna!” The joy in your voice when you came over.

The firm but gentle “Sukuna.” You whisper in his ear when he starts to lose his temper with his brothers.

“S-Sukuna~!” The way you would moan his name when he was balls deep inside your perfect pussy.

With a frustrated sigh, he peered down at the tent in his sweats. How was it you could be hundreds of miles away and still make his cock hard? Damnit, he had it bad for you, and he had a raging boner.

“Fuck it. I have nothing better to do.”

Padded across the floor, Sukuna plopped down in bed, his hand slowly reaching into his sweats. Sukuna grabbed his cock, causing a sharp hiss to pass through his clenched teeth. The velvety skin was hot, throbbing under both his touch and the thoughts of you. It always amazed him just how fucking hard he got whenever you were involved. Either participating in the fun or when you were just at the forefront of his mind.

Which was constant anymore, yet you were nowhere to be found to help with the predicament he currently found himself in. You were probably sippin’ on mimosas or some girl shit. When Sukuna would much rather have you sucking on his cock.

”Fuck.” Spitting into his hand, Sukuna wrapped his fingers around his cock. Imagining it as your hand, which barely fits around his girth length. “Suck it.” He rolled his head back, resting it against the pillows as he imagined images of you. Crawling up the bed on your hands and knees. “That’s right, mhmm fuck you look so fucking sexy.” You were naked, tits bare, lacey underwear hugging your hips as you kissed up his thighs.

He squeezed his shaft before slowly dragging his hand up and down. His spit lubricated the soft skin of his cock, but it wasn’t nearly enough, not enough to even begin to mimic your mouth. You were always so messy, gagging up and down, taking him as deep as you could until pretty tears stained your cheeks. Even if he told you not to push yourself, that you neednt worry about him, you gave it one hundred and fuckin’ fifty percent. So, one could only imagine his disappointment that his hand felt nothing like your tight, wet mouth.

The way your pretty lips kiss swollen wrapped around the tip, your tongue teasing his slit in slow, calculated licks. He knew you liked it. You loved sucking his cock. You hummed around him as you tasted his pre-cum, making your tongue move harder against his tip. Eventually, though, you grew tired of the pre-cum and wanted the real thing. So you would gag, bob your head, hollow your cheeks, doing everything and anything in your power to get him to cum in your mouth.

You were such a whore for his cock.

”That’s it, suck it, suck it, my fucking beautiful girl.” In his fantasy, you hummed, sucking faster as his hand tried and failed to imitate you. “Come on, baby, you can take it.” His brain was screaming at his hand to do what he was seeing in his head, but it was to no avail. Despite his hand being a cheap knockoff, it would get the job done. Just not in the way he wanted.

“Fuck, Y/N, come home soon.”

As Sukuna continued thrusting his cock into his fist, you opened the door to his apartment. You were giddy, kicking your shoes off, searching for your handsome boyfriend. You had told him you were coming back on Thursday, which was a lie. A lie you were proud of! You knew he had the rest of the week off, so you took it upon yourself to take the week off yourself. This way, you could make up for your time away from him.

When you couldn't find Sukuna anywhere in the kitchen or living room, you grinned mischievously. Knowing him, he fell asleep after sending his little brothers off to school. That meant you could wake him up in the naughtiest way before getting your guts rearranged. Tip-toeing to his room, you tilted your head to the side as his groans and curses could be heard from his room.

When you peeked inside to see what he was doing, your breath caught in your throat. Sukuna was flushed. A light sweat had begun to bead over his toned muscles while he fucked his hand. His face was contorted with frustration as his hand moved up and down faster. Your poor baby was so close, but he couldn't get past the edge. His thick, girthy, perfect cock throbbed red with anger while it cried beads of pre-cum.

“Y/N, fuck Y/N, don't stop, so close.” Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you fought back a pleased giggle. Poor Sukuna, he must be missing you so badly. Jerking his cock off like a horny teenager. Desperate for release, for a mediocre orgasm.

Well, it was his lucky day. Because you, you were going to suck his would out. Using his shut eyes and heavy breathing to your advantage, you stepped inside his room. You made sure to hold your breath as you approached the edge of the bed. From up close, you could see the pained expression on his face. Poor thing, his cock must be so hard it hurts. What kind of girlfriend would you be if you just allowed him to suffer like this?

Bending over, you kitten licked the slit of his leaking cock. Sukuna’s cock throbbed hard before his body seized up as he pulled his hand away. “What the fu — oooh fuck.” You wasted no time, getting on the bed, body hunched over as you took the tip of his monstrous cock in your mouth. “Fuck, holy, Y/N?!” His disbelief melted into a gravely moan.

Seeing as your mouth was full, you hummed, looking up into his eyes. “Mhmm~” you attempted to wrap your hand around him, slowly stroking him in time with your sucking.

“Oh, fuck feels so good!” Sukuna wrapped his hand in your hair, tugging at the Y/H/C locks.”That’s it, just like fuckin’ that!” He shoved your head down, making you take his cock down your throat. The sudden action had you gagging as tears blurred your vision. “So pretty, fuck you're so fucking pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock.”

His praises had you sucking him down deeper. More tears streamed down your cheeks as you ran your tongue down the vein on the underside of his cock. Sukuna gasped, thrusting his hips up and into your mouth. Looking at him with blurry eyes, you gagged harder as he fucked your throat like he was fucking your tight pussy.

“Fuck, fuck, gonna cum, I’m gonna fuckin’ cum.” having him hold your head in place as he ducked your face was so arousing in the most intimate ways. You loved making him feel good. You got off on this. “Take it,” he gritted, “take it, suck it, fuckin’ fuck! Y/N!!” he threw his head back, back arching off the bed as ropes of cum filled your mouth. It was thick, hot, and slightly bitter.

You were determined not to waste a drop, so you swallowed and sucked, repeating the process until Sukuna pulled you off his softening dick. His chest heaving, cheeks flushed, the man looked like he ran a marathon. Seeing him in a state like this had you smirking as he gently caressed your head.

“Oh my fuck, I was not expecting this.”

“Mmm, surprise, I came home to spend time with you.”

Sukuna slowly pushed himself up on his elbows. “Good,” he grabbed you by the waist, easily lifting you, positioning you to straddle his neck. “No, why don't you take a seat here.” His middle and forefinger tapped at his lips. “And tell me all about your trip.” you ripped your underwear off, tossing them across the room, before holding your dress up in your hands.

“Well, you’ll never guess what Minami did.”

“Fuckin’ hate that bitch, tell me everything.” He muttered into your pussy as you gasped out in pleasure. Yeah, he felt a million times better now that you were back, right where you belonged.

[writeroutoftime]

pawns in your game (part 2/2)

part one

pairing: cassian x reader

summary: upon waking up, cassian and the rest of the inner circle are relieved, but it seems there are still some wounds that need healing.

warnings: none, but some conversations that need to happen in ACOTAR canon lol

words: 1.6k

a/n: thank you for all the support and love for part one! sorry for the wait on the second (and final) part, I just had so much trouble! the conversation between you, cass, rhys, and feyre was written like 3 different times lol. anyway, now that it is finished, please enjoy and I'd love to hear what you think! have a fabulous day! '

(also, if you have any other requests for our acotar men, please send them my way!)

oOoOo

Two days passed since Rhys and Cass had their conversation. Neither male spoken to the other since, and word had spread through the rest of the Inner Court over what had occurred. Cass, however, couldn't find it himself to care as he continued to keep vigil over your bedside, only sleeping when he could no longer force his eyes open through the weight that threatened to drag them down.

Suddenly, body feeling as though it weighed a thousand tons, you opened your eyes, groaning at the soft sunlight that streamed into the room. The sheets beneath you felt scratchier than normal beneath your body, and it took a moment to realize you were in the med wing.

You felt a heavy weight in your left hand, and carefully, you shifted your gaze to see Cassian gripped it tightly. His back and wings were hunched over as he slept in what seemed to be the most uncomfortable position imaginable. Although you were hesitant to wake him, you needed water and to know what had happened, so you shook your hand to wake your mate up.

In response, Cass shot straight up, his siphons pulsed a warning red as if he thought you and he were in some kind of danger. But once his mind and body had more than a moment to react his hazel eyes found yours and widened to the size of saucers.

"You're up!" he shouted, tears lining his eyes. Without thinking, Cass leaned forward and engulfed your body in his, and you didn't miss the way his body shook slightly in relief.

"I'm here, I'm okay." you whispered, running your fingers through his tangled hair. "H-how long have I been out?" you whispered, voice scratchy and rough.

"Nearly a week." Cass explained, pulling away and hurrying to grab a glass of water from the bedside table. "Here, drink."

The cool relief of water slipped down your throat, and you already felt better. Sore, you tried to stretch your body out to the best of your ability while trying to recall everything that occurred after leaving the Spring Court manor. "What happened?"

Cass barely held back a growl at the thought. "While you and Rhysand were in the Spring Court, there was an armed guard looking to shoot him with an arrow. But you, being the selfless female you are," Cass chided. "jumped in front of him and were shot with an especially strong dose of poison."

Silence rested between you both, and you could feel the waves of grief that poured down from Cassian's side of the bond. You could only imagine what he must have felt like the past week. If the roles had been reversed, you would have been a mess, tearing apart anything and anyone that got in the way of your wrath.

"I-I think I remember jumping in front of Rhys. He killed the Spring Court solider right away and didn't know what to do. Somehow, he managed to winnow us both back here, and that's all I remember." you admitted.

"That damn bargain." Cass said, growling this time. "We could do the same thing, and then how fucked would the Night Court be."

There was an anger that pulsed from Cass which went deeper than just being worried about his mate. Slowly, you shifted from your spot and moved to sit up against your pillows. "Cass," you began slowly. "what else happened while I was asleep?"

Cassian did not look the least bit guilty as he looked you straight in the eyes. "I told Rhysand off. I told him how I felt about his precious bargain that allows him and Feyre to stay protected while the rest of us suffer the consequences."

An odd feeling washed over you at Cassian's words. On one hand, you can't believe that Cass spoke those words to his brother - to his High Lord. On the other hand, you always felt a small pang of pride that Cassian stood his ground, and yours by extension. But you knew neither of those feelings fixed the larger issue at hand.

"Cass," you started, before he interrupted you.

"I'm not sorry for what I said. It's something we've all been thinking since before Nyx's birth, but, apparently, I was the only one who had the balls to actually say something.

Your teeth caught against your lips, trying, and failing, to hold back a laugh at your mate's words. "I did not protect Rhys because of his and Feyre's bargain, nor because of my oath to him as High Lord." you began carefully. "I did it because he is my friend, and I know he would do the same for me." you confessed.

Cassian was disgruntled at the suggestion. Opening his mouth, most likely to spew more insults against Rhys, you beat him to the punch.

"But," you continued. "I also feel as though sometimes it is overbearing to have to be even more responsible for Rhys and Feyre's survival, especially now that Nyx is involved. I think we need to talk to them." you admitted, motioning for Cassian to rest against you so you could lean your head against his solid shoulder.

The two of you laid there for quite some time before there was a tentative knock at the door. Your High Lord and Lady stuck their heads in, trying to read Cassian's mood. However, Feyre's eyes widened when she noticed your eyes open, and body propped up in bed. A wide smile overtook her face, and she abandoned her mate to rush to your side. 

"You're awake!" she cried, grasping her free hand in yours and squeezing tightly.

Rhys continued to stand by the door, wary of Cass' razor-sharp gaze that seemed to pierce through to his soul. Only the tiniest bit of his guilt alleviated seeing you up after so long. "How are you feeling?" 

"Still sore, but doing alright." you admitted, shrugging your shoulders as though you had merely scrapped a knee.

There was an awkward silence that descended upon the room, and none of you knew how to fix it. Cass pulled you even closer to his side and threaded his hand in yours. Meanwhile, Feyre and Rhys shared a private conversation, silently debating who should be the first to broach the elephant in the room.

"I think we need to talk." you finally began. 

At the same time, Rhys blurted out. "I'm so sorry that this happened, y/n." 

You both stared at one another, really taking the other in. Rhys noted the bandage wrapped around the shoulder where the arrow had met its target. He noticed the way your eyes would flinch in pain whenever you pulled at your muscles wrong and the look of fatigue that overtook your features. From your perspective, it was impossible to miss the dark shadows under Rhys' eyes and the guilt that remained present in his eyes and across his face. 

"I don't blame you for what happened. I hope you know that, Rhysand." you said, squeezing your mate's hand, as you stared straight into Rhys' violet eyes. 

"But I should have been paying more attention to our surroundings. After everything that's happened with Spring, I don't know why I wasn't already expecting something like this to occur. That arrow was meant for me, y/n, and you saved my life." he said, eyes flickering to Feyre for a brief moment, his meaning clear. Rhys cleared his throat, trying not to sound as choked up. "I don't believe it's been said, and you deserve so much more than this, but thank you." 

The words were simple, yet heartfelt all the same. You didn't need to be a daemati to know that Rhys meant every word he spoke. Feyre nodded her head in agreement, sending a message of thanks and gratitude your way. Your heart warmed at the gesture, but a look towards Cassian told you he still was unimpressed. 

"You are my friend, no thanks necessary. Though it is appreciated nonetheless." you smiled. "But," you continued, letting the word hang in the air. "I know little of what happened before I woke up, and it feels like we need to talk about that too." 

The male holding your hand at least had the decency to shift uncomfortably at the thought. Though, he still did not start up any conversation, instead, feeling justified in the words he said to defend his mate - the love of his life. 

Feyre must have been filled in on the details of Rys' and Cass' conversation because a haunted look morphed across her features. "We never meant for our bargain to become a burden on our family." she whispered, staring down at her tattooed hands.  

Cass scoffed at the statement, and you smacked your hand against his chest and narrowed your eyes in his direction. "What?" he protested. "I thought we wanted to have an honest conversation here?" 

"Cass is right." Rhys spoke. "I don't think we every really had a discussion about what this bargain means for us as a family. So," he paused, glancing at Feyre who nodded. "we want to hear how you feel about everything that has gone down." 

"I think it was a fucking stupid idea." Cass spoke up, not caring how it sounded. 

"Harsh, but fair, I suppose." Rhys said with a stilted laugh, trying to ease the tension. 

"I think what Cass is trying to say," you began. "is that, of course, we know what our oath to you as our High Lord and Lady means. But, when you told us about the other bargain, it felt as though the weight of the world fell on our shoulders." 

Feyre reached out to grasp Rhys' hand for support. "Cassian is right, it was stupid on our part. We weren't even thinking when we made that vow." 

"What would you have done, Cassian?" Rhys added, trying to appeal to his brother.

A part of your heart ached at Feyre's words. Turning your head, you gave Cassian a soft gaze and sent a wave of love and adoration down the bond. He and you both knew there wasn't anything the other wouldn't do for you. It could have just as easily been you and he with the death bargain hanging over your shoulders. 

"Love may not always make sense, but that doesn't make it stupid. It's not like Cass and I wouldn't have done the same thing in a moment of high emotions." you admitted. "Though, our deaths don't necessarily lead to the Night Court being thrown into chaos." 

Rhys and Feyre both looked ashamed at the statement. "That is a conversation Rhys and I have had many times. And something we've been planning to share with you all. Soon." she promised, nodding solemnly.

You and Cass both nodded at the sentiment. It was a relief to know all this worrying had not been one-sided all these months. However, Feyre's words did not - nor could not - suddenly fix everything. There was still an acknowledgement of their actions that had yet to be addressed. An acknowledgement of the fear you and the rest of the Inner Circle had felt since and all the sacrifices which had been made.

"Feyre and I see the effort you and Cass have put into keeping us safe, I hope you know that." Rhys offered. "I can't say for certain what will continue to come of this situation, but Feyre and I promise to keep looking for a solution and to make sure you, and the rest of our family, feel heard. I'm sorry it's taken until tragedy struck for us to have this talk." he finished, baring the guilt and fear that had been marring his soul for the past week to you and his brother.

Cass looked his brother in the eyes, holding the stare for a few moments. Your breath stopped as you braced yourself for another blow out, but through your squinted eyes you noticed the way the tension had dissipated from Cass' body ever so slightly.

"It doesn't fix everything," Cass started, and all three of you in the room tensed, waiting for another raging display of anger. "but it's a start." he relented.

The two Illyrians locked eyes, and Cass tightened his grip on you as he and Rhys had a silent conversation. The two knew there would be much more talking and healing that needed to happen first, but eventually you were sure things would turn out all right.

After all, it was a start.

oOoOo

a/n: there it is, part 2! like I said, I was really nervous about posting this, and I hope it lives up to everyone's expectations!

tagging: @captainsophiestark, @eerievixen, @kylaisra, @tele86, @starsinyourseyes, @lisanna2000, @highladyivy

[tenpointsforq]

Amnesia fic! Either Q or James (even if I’d love to read one featuring Q not remembering his relationship with JB).

A/N: Why do you give me the tools with which to destroy you?

—

The man formerly known as Q woke in a large, otherwise empty bed. Pale light washed across the linens, creating peaks and valleys where the fabric eddied around his knees and hips. He blinked, and tried to remember where he was. The room was a rich midnight blue. Wooden blinds covered the windows. A dark wooden armoire stood guard in the corner of the room. None of the furniture looked familiar. 

He scanned his body. There was no headache, no nausea. He was wearing flannel pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt whose decal was so faded he couldn’t make it out in the dim light. As far as he could tell he wasn’t hungover, and he likely hadn’t passed out at a paramour’s home. That still didn’t explain where the fuck he was. 

He scrubbed a thin-fingered hand through his hair, and was surprised to find long tufts of curls. He’d always kept his hair a little longer than his mother would have liked, when she were still alive. But even this length seemed excessive. He couldn’t remember how long his hair was supposed to be. He couldn’t remember the night before. The day before. The week before. A swell of fear rose in his chest. It was hard to catch his breath. He sat up, and noticed that the spot in the bed next to him was warm, though vacant.

The wooden floor was chilly underfoot as he stumbled across the room to the window. He opened the blinds, hoping that he could at least figure out where in London he was by the view. When he was instead greeted by grassy hills speckled with dark boulders that dipped down to a churning sea, the fear in his chest twisted to panic. His breath was ragged in his chest, scraping against his ribcage as it clawed through his body. The corners of his vision darkened. 

There was a quiet knock at the door. 

The man formerly known as Q knelt on the floor. He pressed his head to the cool, wide wooden planks and watched the fugue of his breath cast a pale moss across the shiny surface. 

The door opened. A man walked in- average height, muscular, close cropped hair and the bluest eyes that could possibly exist. He had a small tray in his hands, with two steaming mugs and a pile of toast. 

“You’re up earlier than usual,” the visitor said. 

“Where am I?”  

“Roonah Point- in Western Ireland.” The visitor took a few steps into the room and set the tray down on a small table in the corner. “I’m afraid I have bad news for you, but maybe the tea will ease things a little. Would you like to come up off the floor?” 

The visitor’s voice was confident, almost cocksure. After careful deliberation the man formerly known as Q rose to his feet and walked over to the table. 

“Am I dying?” He asked. 

The visitor cocked his head to one side. “Why would you think that?”

“You said you had bad news. It was the first thing I thought of.” 

“You’re not dying. At least- not any sooner than you should be.”

“Then what’s the bad news? And where am I? And who the fuck are you?”

Maybe I’m dreaming, he thought to himself. But somehow, he doubted it. 

“Here-” the visitor held out a mug. It had a large, black Q emblazoned on the side, with a small number ten just beneath it. He wondered what it meant. Regardless, the tea inside the mug was delicious. Perfectly steeped earl gray with a touch of cream, just how he liked it. 

“I’m afraid that while you are not dying, you are ill, in a manner of speaking.” The visitor said. “You were in an accident a little over a year ago- you healed fine, mostly. But there was some significant damage to your memory. You struggle to convert short term memories into long term memories, and a good chunk of time from before the accident seems to be missing as well. Your loved ones hired out this house here, and I’m here to care for you, to keep you comfortable. My name is James.” 

“My loved ones?” 

“Yes. Do you remember your family?” James asked. His eyes tightened, and he took a long pull from his mug. 

“My parents are dead. I have a sister but we’re on bad terms.” 

“That’s right,” James said. “Although you’re on better terms now, so to speak. Celine visits twice a year. She’ll be back in a month.” 

“But I’m not going to remember that by the time she gets here, am I?” Q asked. His mind was racing through the implications of what James had explained to him. 

“No, likely not,” said James. 

“Am I going to remember this conversation?” Q took another pull from the mug, then selected a triangle of toast to nibble on. 

“For a little while, but it’ll fade,” James said. 

“How many times have we had this conversation?” The man formerly known as Q asked. 

“I’ve stopped keeping count,” said James with a smirk. “But there are worse conversations to have over breakfast.” 

They drank their tea, and then James suggested they go for a walk. 

“You like to watch the ocean on blustery days,” James said. He drained the rest of his mug. There was a ring on the man’s finger. Silver, with some kind of etching that was difficult to read from a distance. 

“You’re married,” The man formerly known as Q said. 

“I am. Going on three years, now,” James replied. 

“But you live here?” 

“Most of the time. I lease a flat in London, too. Sometimes I go back for holidays or to do some contract work for an old job.” 

“Your partner doesn’t mind? Where is he?”

James smiled. “He doesn’t mind much. He knows that this is important to me. Or at least, I hope they do. He’s not far, either. I see him most days.” 

“What’s his name?” 

“Drink your tea. We have a walk to go on. Waves to watch.” 

James showed him where his clothes were kept and gestured to a pair of well-worn boots in the corner of the room. Then he took the tea tray and left. The man formerly known as Q changed into jeans and a thick wool sweater. He tugged the boots on over his socks. He looked out the window. Gray clouds were moving at a furious pace across the sky. Birds twisted and dove through the air. He felt unmoored. Confused. He tucked those feelings deeper inside himself and made his way out of the bedroom and down a narrow hallway lined with artwork he mostly didn’t recognize, but some he  strangely did. 

The hall opened to a living room with panelled walls painted in a deep hunter green. The room was dominated by a fireplace and a large leather sofa, with built in bookshelves lining the far wall. There were pictures and knick knacks propped on surfaces around the room. Some were his- he recognized a photo of him and his college roommate at graduation. There was a figurine of the Eiffel Tower that he’d gotten on a trip as a child. Other items seemed to be bits and bobs collected from far flung places. James returned to the room while he was examining a porcelain figurine of a tabby cat. 

“From Japan,” was all that James said. Then he crossed the room and pulled open a small door. He pulled out two coats, and held out an olive green one.  

“What’s my name?” The man formerly known as Q asked. His mouth was dry. He was afraid to ask, and he wasn’t sure why. For some reason, it terrified him to think that this man knew the answer to that question. Like there was a danger just out of his field of vision. 

“You tell me,” James said. “If you want.” 

“Thomas.” 

“That’s right,” James said with a tight nod. 

“That’s not the name I go by, though,” Thomas said, and the briefest of smiles flashed across James’ face. 

“It’s not. You’re right.” James said. 

“What do you call me?” 

“I call you Q, some of the time,” James said with a smile. 

Thomas decided that he liked that more, and something inside him shifted to make room for this other version of himself. Whomever he was that brought such a smile to this strange, caring man’s lips. He tucked Thomas away, and took on the mantle of Q. It felt more comfortable. More him. 

James opened the door and a blast of cold air filled the room. Q pulled on the offered coat and zipped it to his chin. He followed James out the door, and then moved to stand beside him. Together they walked down a muddy path worn into the hillside. Q thought he saw the remnants of boot prints in the dirt. Traces of a traveler from the day before, perhaps. He wondered if they were his own. The treads didn’t match the tracks that James was leaving in the mud beside him. 

They made their way to the edge of a rocky cliff. Dozens of feet below, the sea churned in on itself in a tangled mass of waves. James was right. Q enjoyed watching the waves immensely as they beat against the rocky shore. Wind whipped through his hair and stung his cheeks. James moved to stand on his other side, the bulk of his body shielding Q from the worst of the wind. Q glanced down, and saw that James was worrying at the ring on his left hand. Q squeezed his own fingers, frigid from the cold. 

“There are gloves in your pocket,” James said. Q reached inside, and found soft, knit gloves. He slid them on. 

“Thank you,” Q said. 

“I’d try to get you to wear a hat, too, but you don’t like how it squashes your curls,” James said. “I gave up on that a few months ago.” 

“How long have we been here?” Q asked. 

“Sixteen months, give or take. It’s hard to track the time,” James replied, and Q could tell that there was a lot that the man wasn’t saying. 

“Almost half the time you’ve been married,’ Q observed. 

“Almost,” Bond nodded placidly. 

“And do we do this every day? You come and explain to me that I am an invalid, permanently unmoored from time, and then make me tea and we go for a walk?” 

“Just about,” Bond said. “Sometimes I make us a proper breakfast first. Sometimes you’re a bit angrier when I explain things. Rightly so, of course. Then there are days that you remember a little bit more.” 

“I remember more?” Q asked. 

“Just a little. I think sometimes you have dreams that help bridge the gap. You wake up and remember who I am, at least. You remember more about your life around the time of the accident. It’s not much more, usually, but it’s enough to make those days different.” 

Q glanced away from the waves and back towards the little cottage where they’d ventured from. He could see a small gray car in the driveway. There was a shed off to the side of the house and a substantial wood pile, though he couldn’t see any nearby trees. 

“And do I ever remember that we’re married?” Q asked. James stiffened next to him. 

“No. You never remember that,” the man replied after a long moment. 

The sadness in James’ voice made Q want to reach over and take his hand. He shoved his hands in his pockets instead. 

“You must hate me a great deal for that,” Q said quietly. 

“Never,” James said. And he turned towards Q, and laid a hand on Q’s shoulder. His blue eyes blazed despite the dull gray day around them. “I don’t hate you. I hate the situation sometimes. I mourn the time we lost, and I grieve the memories we were promised. But I could never hate you. I’m grateful you’re alive and here and I can stand beside you still, in whatever capacity you’ll have me.” 

“Thank you,” Q said. And there were a million more complicated thoughts and emotions roiling inside of him. He had the sense that some days, he might roll up his sleeves and sort through them. But today, he wanted only to exist in this comfortable pocket of a life that James had provided for them. He wanted to drink tea and watch the sea and learn more about the man that stood beside him, through sickness and health. 

Q reached out and took James’ hand. He held it tightly. He hoped he would hold it tomorrow, too.

[roseglass-writings]

NSFW - First time with Elliott

Elliott x Fem!reader

Warnings: smut, fingering, vaginal penetration, fluff, unprotected sex, aftercare

Not proofread, so if there are any mistakes let me know!

Requested by @birdgirl98

Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy it :) It went on for a bit longer than I anticipated, but I hope it makes up for how long it took to write it, haha xx

Word count: 3,478

I rest my head on the wall of my home behind me, watching idly over my ducks swimming around in the pond. Checking my watch for the time for what feels to be the 50th time within the past few minutes. My eyes dart towards between the three paths leading up to my farm, my leg bouncing due to my nervousness, waiting for Elliott to come over.

After waiting a few more minutes, I finally see him walking up the farm from Cindersap Forest, with his ginger hair glowing in the late afternoon sun. I watch, a smile slowly forming on my face as I admire him gracefully walking towards me. He admires the summer spangles and sunflowers as he goes past, before looking up and noticing me.

"Hello, my dear! Apologies for being late, I got caught up in my reading. The farm looks glorious, which is not a surprise with how much hard work you put into it. " He greets, climbing the stairs onto the front porch and stands in front of me, before leaning down and softly kissing me.

When we pull apart, I blush before patting the seat beside me. "It is alright, I was wondering if we could talk about something." I look back towards the ducks, while interlocking our hands.

"Of course we can mon amour. Is everything alright? You have seemed to be in deep thought these past few weeks. Whatever it is, if there is anything I can do to help hun, all you have to do is ask." Elliot says, sitting down and kissing the back of my hand, gently rubbing his thumb along my wrist.

"I know - and it is nothing bad, I promise. I just..." I trail off slightly, feeling the heat rise on my cheeks, "I have been thinking about us being more physically intimate."

I feel Elliott freeze for a second, before continuing to rub his thumb over my wrist. I turn to face him, noticing his face has reddened and he is staring at me in surprise.

"We don't have to rush into anything, I want us both to be comfortable if we ever come to that point in our relationship, but I do believe that I am ready," I state, squeezing his hand and smiling softly, feeling reassured by his own reaction.

He smiles back, before gently putting his hand on my cheek and leaning closer. "While I have not been with someone intimately before, I can safely assure you my dear that I would like nothing more than to share my first time with you. How far is it you would like to go?"

I lean into his hand, grateful Elliott is so good at communication. "I would like to see how we go mostly, but I think I am ready to have sex."

Elliott nods attentively, before standing up and lightly tugging on our joined hands. "Why don't we take this inside, my angel. While we do not have to do anything today, I would rather not have anyone come over for something and interrupt our conversation."

I nod in understanding, knowing that Jas, Vincent and Leo in particular like to visit frequently to see the animals. We walk into my home, pausing to take off our shoes, before Elliot leads the way to the sofa and guiding me into his lap. The cool summer breeze from the window contrasting the heat I felt from his lap. He wraps one of his arms around my waist, and places his other hand back onto my cheek.

"How do you want to go about this my dear? I do not want to make you uncomfortable at any point, or as though you must carry on for my sake," Elliott asks staring at me intently.

I smile at him, grateful for his concern. "I know, love. I promise you, if I am uncomfortable even just by our position I will tell you. I know I am not as good with words as you, but I do believe I have gotten good at communicating," I tease.

Elliott chuckles softly, "Indeed you have, mon amour. I just do not want you to feel pressured in any way."

I kiss him softly on his lips, the overwhelming love I feel for him causing me to feel as though my heart will burst out of my chest. "What about you? Are you okay with having sex? I don't want you to feel pressured either, especially not just because I am ready for this step in our relationship."

Elliott smiles back at me, squeezing my waist fondly, "I can assure you my dear, I will tell you if I become uncomfortable or wish to stop."

I grin, before leaning back in and kissing him. Our mouths move together, as he tightens his grip on my waist. I wrap one of my arms around his shoulders, using my other hand to brush through his hair.

I feel his warmth breath against my skin as we pull apart, before going back towards my mouth as though we were two magnets. I tug on the collar of his jacket, pulling it down his shoulders, with him helping to remove it while keeping me close. Once the jacket is removes, I fling it over the back of the sofa, uncaring about if it ends up on the floor.

I feel Elliott's hands untuck my shirt and begin to brush against my bare waist, "Is it this okay, hun?" He asks, pulling away slightly. I admire the redness of his cheeks and at how swollen his lips had become.

"Yeah, it is alright," I respond, smiling and quickly pulling him back into our kiss. I feel his soft hands press against my skin, causing me to shiver. I drag my hands down Elliott's back, feeling the thin cotton of his shirt, glad that the warm weather caused him to skip is usual necktie and waistcoat.

He moves his hands to the bottom of my shirt, now fully untucked from my trousers, and lifts it off me. I blush, feeling his eyes soak in the sight, before I focus on undoing the buttons of his shirt. Once done, he quickly helps me remove it and pulls me back in.

"Wait," I say pulling away, causing him to immediately look at me in concern, "let's move this to my bedroom. The sofa is new, and sheets are much easier to clean," I joke with a slight chuckle. Elliott laughs lightly in response as we both quickly head to my bed.

When we get in the bedroom, I immediately sit on the bed and pull off my socks, and then move further up the bed. Elliott follows me, climbing onto my lap and pulling me back in for a kiss.

I intertwine my fingers into his hair once more, holding him close to me. I feel his hands move down from my jaw, slowly tracing along my body before coming to my bra clasp.

"Is it alright for me to remove it?" He asks, pulling away, panting. I nod, staring at his beautiful face, wondering how I got so lucky to be with someone so incredible.

I feel him remove my bra, pulling it down my arms, before chucking it on the floor. I watch as he drinks in the sight of my breasts.

"You are even more stunning than I could have ever imagined, my dear," he whispers, looking back up at me. I flush, an bashful smile immediately breaking out on my face, feeling entrapped in his unwavering gaze.

"Been imagining me undressed a lot have you?" I tease, watching as he chuckles, his smile making my heart feel as though it was going to pound out of my chest.

"More than I will ever admit," he confesses, "may I touch you?"

I nod, grabbing a hold of his left hand and bringing it to my collarbone. I watch as he goes back to paying attention to my chest, his hands slowly moving across my skin. His right hand moves up my stomach, as though he was trying to map out every part of my body in detail.

Finally reaching my chest, he lightly caresses the skin, rubbing his thumb over my nipple, watching how it tightens at his attention. He slowly puts more pressure into his grasps, beginning to knead the my breasts, causing my to feel flashes of arousal make their way down my body. I let out a light moan, my head falling back as I focus on the pleasure and how Elliott's hands feel on my body.

Looking up at my reaction, Elliott leans down and takes my nipple into his mouth, sucking lightly. I let out another moan as the increase in pleasure, and at how good the warmth and wetness of his mouth feels. I feel wetness building from my cunt, the feeling of his tongue teasingly swiping at my hardened nipple increasing my want for him. Loving how I am responding to his actions, Elliott uses his hand to play with my other breast, teasingly rubbing and lightly pinching and pulling at my nipple.

My hand tightens on his hair, the increase in pleasure causing my to slightly begin to rock my hips, feeling myself becoming more slick and desperate for him. I look down at Elliott, catching his intense stare, before he switches his position onto my other breast, and continuing to pinch and pull on the breast that was just in his mouth.

My hips continue to rock with desperation, my pussy becoming more wet, craving for more. With my own movement, I feel Elliot's cock harden and twitch on my lap, his own hips beginning to move.

Eventually, after what feels like hours of blissful pleasure and teasing, he pulls away from my breast. I watch, noticing his red, puffy lips having a thin trail of saliva attached to my nipple, which has reddened and hardened under his constant attention.

"More please," I say, pulling my hands away to undo my belt. Elliott quickly follows, helping me tug down my trousers and undoes he own belt to follow along.

I lay down, dragging him with me, trailing kisses along his neck, sucking and nipping lightly at the skin, causing him to moan. I feel his hand drift along my thigh, getting closer to my underwear.

"Is it okay for me to go further?" he asks, stopping just below the thin material, that at this point is sticking to my skin with how soaked it has become.

"Yes, please Elliot," I moan into his neck. Without anymore hesitation he rubs his fingers against my covered cunt, beginning to make himself familiar with it.

"Heavens mon amour, you are soaking wet. All this just for me?" he states, running his fingers along my slit. I feel the tip of his fingers slightly brush against my clit and moan, my hips chasing after his touch.

Seeing my desperation, Elliot pulls my underwear down, finally seeing my completely bare.

"Oh you are so stunning my dear, I cannot find the words to describe your beauty. I feel as though Yoba has blessed me for allowed me to ever see such a sight, let alone allowing me to be the one to bring you such pleasure," Elliot rambles, his eyes soaking in the sight of me splayed out below him.

I spread my legs further, his words and intense gaze only arousing me more. With my movement, he quickly snaps his attention back to my cunt. He leans down slightly to get a better look, using his fingers to pull my cunt lips apart, allowing him to see just how drenched I have become.

"This especially is a sight that can never be beaten. Your pussy is so soaking wet for me, hun," he runs his index finger along my cunt, watching as my hole twitches from his touch, noticing my moan when he brushes against my clit. He rubs his finger on my clit gently, applying a bit more pressure, gazing up at me as though I was the most beautiful thing on earth.

The pleasure erupts through my body, my nerves feeling as though they are being electrified. I moan, gripping tightly onto his shoulders as he plays with the swollen bundle of nerves.

"May I use my fingers to stretch you out my dear?" He asks in a husky voice, causing me to nod eagerly.

"Please, Elliott, it feels so good," I whimper, knowing he likes hearing how I am feeling.

As he slides one of his long fingers inside of me I inhale sharply, feeling him sliding in with ease. I hear him let out a moan, as he slowly drags his finger back out of my cunt, before pushing it back in.

"Oh fuck," he groans, unable to pay attention to anything else around him, "your so wet I just glide straight in. It is so warm, and tight, you are just pulling me in," he begins to speed up the movement of his finger, feeling along my walls and familiarising himself with the tight, wet space. After a few more times, he slides in another one of his fingers. The slight stretch adding to your pleasure, as he watches instantly at how soaked his fingers become with your slick.

I watch how entranced Elliott seems, his eyes darting between focusing on my cunt and on how my breasts rise and fall with my shaky breaths, broken up with moans. Looking further down, I notice the dark patch on his boxers where his precum has been leaking, his cock aching and twitching in anticipation, begging him for more, but being ignored by Elliott's desire to pleasure me.

I sit up slowly, bringing Elliot's attention back to me, causing him to pause his actions, "y/n? Are you okay? Do you want to stop?" he asks, ready to stop within an instant.

"I am more than okay," I say, kissing him softly before pulling away again, "just needed to change my position. I was wondering as well, if I could touch you as well?"

Elliott smiles at me, "Of course my love," before slowly removing his hand and quickly removing his boxers. I stare, noticing the length of his cock, leaking precum. Moving myself closer, allowing Elliott to sit between my legs, I reach out and wrap my hands around his shaft.

He lets out a light moan, letting his head fall onto my shoulder, while I slowly drag my hand up and down, swiping at the tip of his cock, using his precum to help move my hand quicker.

"So good, you are doing so good mon amour," Elliott rambles, kissing and sucking lightly at my neck. He moves his hand back to my cunt, pressing his fingers against my entrance once more, stretching them out in a scissor motion, causing pleasure to spread throughout my body.

Once feeling as though I am no longer as tight, Elliott adds a third finger, stretching me further than before. I moaned, with the fullness causing my cunt to tighten around his fingers.

I feel Elliott breathing heavily onto my neck, sucking lightly over my pulse point, breaking away to murmur sweet things to me, his cock throbbing in my grasp, his precum smeared all over my hand. That and the feeling of his fingers dragging against my slick walls, his thumb rubbing lightly on my clit bringing me closer to cumming.

"Elliott, I am so close," I murmur, moans and gasps uncontrollably tumbling from my lips.

"Cum for me hun, cum for me," he responds, pulling way from my neck and gazing at my face. I feel the pleasure building up, before releasing. My nerves feeling as though they are on fire, my lips tingling at the intensity.

Slowly coming to a stop, Elliott removes his fingers from me, quickly grabbing my cheeks and pulling me in for a kiss.

"Yoba, you are so beautiful, I could watch you cumming for eternity, fuck it was so hot," he murmured between kisses. I giggle slightly, feeling myself flush.

After a little longer, I pull away from Elliot, "Are you willing to go further?" I ask softly.

"Are you sure? That looked like a fairly intense orgasm," he responds.

"Yeah, I want to, if you are happy to," I state smiling at him. He nods, pulling me back close to him, kissing me gently, moving me back to laying on the bed.

Leaning down above me, he guides his weeping, throbbing cock to my glistening pussy. Pushing between my folds, my cunt wraps tightly around his cock as it buries itself deep inside of me. Elliott and I both moan at the feeling, the heat and tightness causing Elliott to pause, already feeling as though he was about to cum.

"Fuck you feel so tight around my cock, shit you feel so good mon amour, fuck," Elliot rambles, "you gorgeous pussy feels so good."

I groan, digging my fingers into his shoulder blades, wrapping my legs around his waist and entwining my fingers into his hair. I feel his balls resting against my ass, his cock deep inside me, filling me completely. I suck on his neck, creating hickeys, the heat from our bodies overwhelming.

"Can I start moving?" Elliott murmurs, his eyes shut tightly.

"Please," I respond, tightening my legs around his hips, kissing his jawline.

Slowly, he begins to pull his hips back, before pushing back in. The walls of my cunt pull him in tightly, desperate for his cock, filling me completely.

"Fuck, your pussy is just swallowing me in. You are so tight," he murmurs, picking up speed. I moan uncontrollably, the pleasure increasing once more, lighting my nerves alight as he pounds into me soaking wet cunt.

Noticing how wet I am once more becoming, Elliott moves his head further down, playing with my breasts once more, pinching, pulling and sucking on my nipples.

The mixture of the attention on my breasts with his cock pounding into me causing pressure to build up once more, my second orgasm creeping closer.

"I'm so close," I moan out, "cum in me."

At that Elliott groans, nodding his head, unwilling to pull away, picking up the pace as he gets lost in the feeling of my cunt.

"Fuck, cum for me my dear, cum around my cock," Elliott murmurs, reaching down and rubbing my clit. The overwhelming pleasure washes over me as I cum, my cunt tightening around his cock, triggering his orgasm. Elliott groans at the feeling, burying himself deep inside of me, his cum filling me up.

We lay in one another's embrace, intertwined as we come down from the intense pleasure we shared.

"Are you okay? Was everything okay for you?" I ask, tilting my head slightly in his direction.

Elliott lifts his head slightly towards me, "It was incredible y/n, you were incredible. What about you, are you alright?"

I nodded, smiling gently at him, running my hand through his hair, pushing it back, "it was incredible," I reply chuckling.

Slowly, Elliott pulls out of me, causing us both to groan. "We best go and clean ourselves up, do you want me to run a bath or would you like a shower?" He asks, holding out a hand for me.

"A bath," I respond, taking his hand, "but first I need to nip to the loo. I will be right out," I state before heading to the bathroom to clean myself up and pee.

Once I finish, I turn on the bath taps before opening the bathroom door, only to find that Elliott had stripped the bed. Hearing the bathroom door open, he walks back into the bedroom and over to me, "I just put the sheets in the laundry machine. I'll put fresh ones on after our bath."

I smile warmly, feeling my as though my heart was swelling up with love for him. Once the bath was ran, we both slide in, me leaning back against his chest.

"Are you sure you are okay? I wasn't too rough on you?" Elliott asks softly, his arms wrapped around me gently.

I smile, tilting my head up at him, "I am okay. My legs are a bit sore from the position we were in, and I think I will most likely be a little sore tomorrow, but I am okay. You were perfect. What about you?"

Elliott smiles, kissing the top of my head, "I am okay. I am honoured that you trusted me enough to be able to share this amazing afternoon with you so intimately."

I blush, before raising up slightly and kissing him softly, "I love you," I state before falling back onto his chest.

"And I love you mon amour, more than I can ever put into words."

[ur-mousey]

Time Moves ~

-Yand!True Form! Sukuna Ryomen x Disciple! F!Reader-

Part two

summary Sukuna demands attention from his out of breath disciple for leaving him alone. 2.2k warning mature, smut, possessive themes, mentions of bondage/imprisonment, pussy-eating, dub-con.

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A god lay in wait. His legs spread out. His head rested on the palm of his hand, staring down at his angry red-tipped cock, which pulsed for the cruel mouth of his beloved disciple. He dug his elbow further into his thigh to resist pounding his shaft into the nearest cunt. Animal or women. His other three arms found purchase elsewhere among cool cobblestones to distract from the heat in his chest.

These trips of hers get longer and longer, he thought to himself.

With other disciples, he didn't care for their comings and goings. His little pet, however, he needed to hold her down by a leash. Maybe it's because she's the only one at his side.

Sukuna Ryomen, the God of Curses, was the first to cultivate spite, revenge, and war among the human race. But, he was needed more whenever your hands were held in a prayer nowadays. He was aware that the village below held wavering faith -they hardly believed at all. Trades such as merchants and high-end seamstresses gain riches far faster than that of a war mongrel. And it is true that as a God of War, he has been weakened due to this time of peace. 

It disgusted him to no end. The smoke below was no longer a symbol of families' homes ravished by flames or hunkered-down soldiers in a state of panic while children died tortuously around them. However, it meant that a family feast on a bounty of saccharine pastries baked in the oven.

Years ago, you had begged to venture through the festival roads. One month drew into the next, and each day was the same ordeal to both parties contempt.

Sukukna denied you the pleasure whereas you gave. On your knees, you would whisper his name like the temptress who trained you long ago. You handed out kitten licks and hollowed mouth sucks, coaxing his pre-cum to splash your tongue. Then you would offer your ass in preparation for his impending orgasm. Until one day, he surrendered to your devilish demands.

Once a year, he had promised to allow you to venture away from the shrine to partake in the New Year festivities. However, this god could lie. He broke that promise quicker than he did you.

The first year, you left and returned with a basket filled past the brim with mundane sweets. Most of which you had forgotten existed: red bean buns, daifuku, and a plethora more that Sukuna had cared little for. He had scolded you for the lack of satiating meat in your haul. "I desired other things. Why not accompany me next year? There were all sorts of skewers," You whispered into his ear with a playful bite.

"If only I could go without lifting a leg," Sukuna waved off.

That time, you sank to your knees, looking up at him. "My God, is there a way I could convince you by next year? I offer you the first pick of the desserts."

So he took his favorite one. Your first year out of his sight bared its weight on your thighs. He discarded the bought goods across the floor. You had been gone merely three hours. However, Sukuna could not lift his head from your heat. Your saltiness kept his tongue pushed deep into her sopping hole.

Your feeble arms pushed against Sukuna, who has strapped you down at your waist. He knew that you were crying profusely. He wanted you to break down more upon his tongue. 

Your nails drew blood from his shoulder blades as he held your legs wide. You had struggled to kick out at his thighs. Now, they twitched at the bite of his teeth on your clit. Sukuna would have chuckled at the pleas you made to unlock your neck. But, the collar that secured you to the floor fit you so snug. You were his perfect pet. 

He sucked in between your flesh, tasting you over and over again to never forget that you were perfectly made for his sinful desires. 

He overreacted. Ten days were spent in his personal heaven. And Sukuna couldn't tell if she enjoyed it herself.

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Your salvation is at the top of the mountain where your God resides. At least, that's what you had told yourself at the base of those stone steps.

When you were staring up into the endless sky. When you could feel the trees wave and the birds sing blessings upon your journey. Now, all within your heart was the sound of ringing, the pumping of blood which aided in the spasm of your muscles. How much longer?

You thought you hated making the trip down in fear of toppling over, but it was the climb up that made you appreciate the respite of the poor village. It felt more humane talking to the workers below than doing endless cardio.

But days like these were rare. The villagers do not recognize you anymore, nor do you recognize them. Every day spent in the village are new faces and you are just a humble stranger. You doubt that whatever family you had left out there would know it is you.

Time moves differently on the mountain. 

Your body felt like it would fall apart at the seams. Your bag was filled to the brim with food: savory meats, dried jerky, and sweets galore. You looked at the upcoming archway that marked the journey as being a third over with. The pillars hold familiarity fore this was as far as your God allowed you to step off of the immediate property. You can see the works of your crafted talisman plastered on every vertical surface. It’s maddening. Black ink smeared upon crimson parchment. Sukuna had glared at your work but he shrugged and let you be. That was long ago when humans gathered for his harem. You were the only left.

You knew that your God lied to you. Yearly visits to the mortal world easily showed you that more time has gone by. Today, a girl named Yumi worked at your favorite stall selling pastry goods. But the year before, it was the newly wedded Hiragashi couple. You remembered the young wife brimming with light, belly round and ready to pop. And you remembered how the husband begged his wife to sit while he handled the bustling night market. When you asked about the two, Yumi sighed, "They are my parents."

Hiragashi Yumi was that baby yet to be born, now she stood before you in her twenties. Her parents are significantly older when you're not.

Time moves differently on the mountain.

What were you to do? Your God wouldn't want to hear any of your plight. You doubt that this is a matter he would allow you to fight for.

He'd taunt you. He'd ask if it even matters when at the end of the day, you got to take the excursion. But, it terrifies you that you cannot tell the difference between a year and twenty.

You had to let it go. 

You had taken the moment to set down your bag. The pillar felt like stone against your forehead. It was obviously made out of stone and the realization slammed into your pounding head. It's hard and grainy like time. You realized there were no memories before you laid eyes on your God. You try to calm your breath. Did you even have a family or a childhood? When did life begin for you? Will your life ever end or will it be determined by your God?

Vines coiled up the stone pillar, its leaves brushed against your flushed cheeks. You watched them grow each day. Water droplets slid from them to you, on you cheek. A cause from the earlier drizzle, you presume. It made you wonder if it was safe to cry. After speaking to Yumi, you admitted that you wanted nothing more than the comfort of home. Despite knowing better, there is nothing for you outside of the arms of your God.

"Pet, why the long face." Your body went rigid and you shot your head up the path. The moon shows half its face to the world. And like the moon, your God sat encased primarily in shadows. His eyes showed bright vermillion. 

"My God, why have you come this far from the shrine?" You panted through the coils in your chest. You quickly gathered yourself to the best of your abilities. First, you start by kicking off your hard-to-walk-in sandals. Then you shimmed your hair from its tight bun, allowing the terraces to flow. The black rose pin that held the style together, you placed behind your ear. Lastly, you make work of the kimono. You had pestered your God to help tuck and tie to perfection. Now, it’s folded fabric that you set on top of your traveling pack. 

You stood straight to be beheld. "Here, I bare myself to you." You do not own undergarments, you don't remember a time in which you would have. You bowed till you were sure that your whole body felt flatted into the mountain's steps. "My God."

"Come," Your God beckoned. "Drop the God." 

"Yes Sukuna," You huffed out. "Shall I bring you any food or dessert? The night market was more lively than the last! I could hardly handle the long lines. And I thought we would have more fun watching the fireworks from within the courtyard."

"Quit yapping and come. I couldn't care less for mortal foods."

You make your ascent up the remaining steps separating you two. "Aw, I guess that I'm the only mortal food you'll eat." You let out a giggle through the racing questions. "I hope that you know that you are getting my stuff from below, it has been quite tedious for this mortal to make it this far."

Sukuna looked up into your eyes. You have made it in between his parted legs. You swayed there for a little bit before assuming your kneeling position. Your finger grazed Sukuna's hair before using his shoulder to brace your knees when hitting the slab below. Back straight. Bum placed directly over heel. And, your hands cling to each elbow behind your back in a straight line. "Bold to order me around."

"It was a suggestion."

"A hell of one." Sukuna placed his finger under your lips "Your chin should be lifted. Do you need a reminder? And where should your eyes be?"

"Retraining won’t be necessary." You lifted your chest higher to prove the point as you focused on Sukuna's manhood. His white robe left little to the imagination especially since he never ties it properly. His tattoos frame his sculpted abs and draw the eyes to his glorious v-line. And it's only if you don't do a double take of the smirking mouth protruding from the middle of his stomach. You are used to it and you have been more than aquatinted to how perverted it makes you feel. 

"The long face, pet?" Your nickname was held off long enough to feel somewhat like an afterthought or an attack on your ego.

You sighed, "At the market... This girl I met was twenty, but when I met her last year, she wasn't born yet. I had talked to her parents."

You dared look up into Sukuna's four eyes, searching from one to the other which all stared back at you. "Oh pet, are you mad?"

"Should I be?"

"Why no, pet," Sukuna whispered. He bowed his head to rest his forehead against yours, coated in a film of sweat. "I could make you forget the thoughts running in your dumb head. You are a pet that only needs to know of her master." He scraped a finger behind your ear, taking the black rose pin and with his other hand, he swept your hair back to his liking. "But, if you are mad, I will allow you to pierce me with this. Hold out your hand."

You did as told. Now the metallic warmth of the pin weighed heavy on your conscious. "I don't wish to hurt you. And if I do this, you'll punish me."

"I lied. Pierce me for all I care. You are mad like me.” His blazed eyes hunger for the fear in yours “Your punishment will be a light one."

You shook your head, "No! No no no. I want to let this go! Let's enjoy the food and the fireworks. Please!" Before you could yank your arm away, your God gripped tight enough to bruise. With full awareness, you watched as Sukuna used your hand to shove the pin repeatedly into his chest.

At first, the skin doesn't break. Your hand throbbed from the forced handle you had to take. Your arms ached all over as you tried pulling away from the slashing. Screaming felt foreign but not unheard of coming from your throat. Moments like theses caused your mind to wonder. Were those cries even yours or someone else's? A spectator could be in the woods regarding the nakedness of your skin.

They could be the one screaming. The spectator has front-row seats to view the enormous stomach mouth gulp down blood. Or they were the one fighting, not you, to get away from Your God.

"Su-uuh kuna! Wh- why, why! Why are you doing this!?" You bellowed through gritted teeth, smacking against his chest. 

"What did I even do wrong?" You felt the crash of your lungs. You felt the heaviness of your knees losing balance on the pavement which caused you to smack into Sukuna's right thigh. Your face felt hot. "I can't be mad! I don't have the right!" You shook your head, whipping hair everywhere. Snot ran down to your lips as you kept screaming. "I don't care if you lied! Why should I! I'm nothing more than a pet who would be nothing without their god!"

Sukuna squeezed your hand as he pushed the sharp pin in one last time before ripping your arms away. You fell backwards. catching yourself on the step below you. Your main find at last year's market, the black rose pin, looked dimmed when coated in blood. It stuck out of your God's chest where it rises and falls to the normal beat of his lungs. Whatever compelled you to buy the article of jewelry made you gag into your hands.

"Pet, I hate these excursions of yours. You know that."

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Thank you for reading! Request rules are here! Follow my ig = lil.thoughts.xo!

Happy New Years

[acerathia]

delirium || Aventurine

Summary:

Aventurine has been good to you, so good, your past comes back to haunt you. And he's the only one who can truly relieve you.

Wordcount: 2.6k

Read on AO3

Pairing:

Aventurine / Mermaid!Reader

Tags/CW:

Minors DNI! pwp, monsterfucking, reader is in heat, reader has both kinds of genitalia, anal (Aven receiving), handjob, cunnilingus, piv, making out, they're in the water, unedited, unbeta'd...i have no idea what i was doing o7

Note:

sequel to 'equilibrium'. i got immensely h word so i wrote this, first time to ever do so, i have no idea how it is and i'm too ashamed to ask someone to beta it. i just need to get it out LMAO

In the past, time would have been something viscous, something cloggy and stiff. Every day the same spiel. Every day you would wake up in your tank and be greeted by the endless stares of your aficionados. And all you could do was wait and wait and wait. Wait for something you don’t even know the existence of.

But that has changed. It changed the moment Aventurine took you in. At first, it changed for the worse, if someone cares about space, and you would be lying if you said that staying in a bathtub hadn’t bothered you. Yet, you’ve never felt more free than in that tiny room, surrounded by nothing but darkness. For the first time since you’ve been in captivity, you felt alone. No stares, no hands, no commands. Just you and the water.

And then, the moment where the realization set in: you’re no longer a slave, no longer in the hand of someone keen on owning you. That moment was when you both ended up embracing, his words hot against your cool skin. But also, when he started building more space for you to move. He made it possible for you to stay fluid, your stagnation something of the past.

Yet, due to the way you have been living, enough food, spacious living conditions, something else of the past has returned to you. Something you had entirely forgotten until the morning you woke up, feeling the heat crawl up your skin and the cold shaking your bones. The lethargy plaguing your body leads you to the decision to simply stop moving, staying in your tank until this temporary condition wears itself out.

Of course, your absence has to be noticed eventually, so it comes to no surprise when there’s a knock at the door of your so-called room. With sluggish movements you change into a shallow tank, allowing you to stay seated while your torso is out of the water. Once you’re situated, you let out a call to allow him in.

The door creaks open and Aventurine enters, wearing some loungewear, hair still mussed, as he had yet to prepare himself to leave for work. Your eyes jump from his face, his smooth skin and eyes akin to jewelry, plush lips, often puckered in some kind of smirk, to his collarbones, framed by the open buttons of his top, teasing you about more. And you feel the heat surge once more, and with it comes the shame. How could you look at him and feel like that, feel the need to dig your teeth into his flawless, soft skin, to devour him.

You avoid making eye contact, you avoid looking at him altogether, as you wouldn’t know if you would keep leering at him like you just did, and even worse, if he would notice the way your eyes darken with each glimpse of him.

He steps closer, his footfall light and silent, yet in your current disposition, everything about him suddenly feels more intense, and you can’t help but notice every single movement and noise. So, his breath against your skin feels much more sensual than it should’ve been when he leans closer to you. And you close your eyes, your eyebrows furrowed as you try and squash down the sudden urge to simply drag him into the water.

“Oh my, you look flushed. Let’s hope you’re not sick,” he murmurs with his usual soft tone, the one Aventurine only uses to calm you down, to persuade you.

But this time, his way of speaking, low, something to ease you out of your skin, has a completely different outcome than usual. His voice sneaks down the back of your neck, touches your ribs and heats your insides. And all you can do is suppress a groan. One that slips between your gritted teeth the moment he touches your face with the tips of his fingers, his warmth fueling yours, soft skin against the wet, cold, for once not covered by the usual cool gloves. Normally you would have cherished that small touch, maybe even leaned in for more, but today, today you crave more. You want him to plunge his fingers inside you, to touch you in ways that matter.

You can’t help the barely audible pants as you try to work through your inner turmoil, until he removes his hand from your skin, leaving a hot patch slowly cooling down. Yet, that seeping coldness doesn’t help you, rather it reveals to you how much you crave the heat of another.

Your mind is fixated on the loss of his touch to even notice his absence. Your haze thins the moment the door clicks open once again as Aventurine enters the room again. This time he does not touch you, does not approach you. He keeps his distance, his face twisted in thought, his eyebrows pulled together, his soft lips jutting out, and you wonder how it would feel to have them against your own, how they would feel against your skin, and you immediately have to look away, yet the thought never vanishes.

“It seems like I have caused this problem, so it seems right for me to fix it, don’t you think so?” his voice sounds again, reverberating against your bones, and you’re unable to answer, but your reaction to him seems to be enough.

Once again getting closer, his breath brushes over your lips, your neck, and you shiver and pant, finally looking at him as he gets as close as the tank allows him to. He’s within your reach. So close, yet not close enough. With a quick motion, one born out of desperation and desire, you whip out your hand to grab him by the collar and pull him into the water.

He barely manages to catch himself, his hands holding the edge of the tank while the rest of him lays heavy on top of you. His face is barely any distance away from yours, and your eyes wander over his features, watching as the droplets of water make his skin shimmer, as they halo his eyes, sparkling, akin to a pearl in the deep sea.

Your gaze drops, gliding over his neck, his shoulders, collarbones, and you notice the way it has made his clothes see-through, his tensing muscles on display. And when you feel his hand on your cheek, you look up again, slightly nuzzling into his warm, soft skin.

He simply looks at you, and at some point, his attention, the way Aventurine seems to be able to read you so effortlessly, becomes too much for you to bear. You grow impatient, tilting your head into his hand. Then, you bite into his palm, hard enough for you to relieve your need, yet careful enough to avoid wounding, hurting him. And instead of looking up, you let your tongue lick at the sharp bite marks, softening the ache with the slight pressure.

When you look up again, you notice how his face has a slight tint, a red flush spreading over his cheeks, ears, neck. With that sight, your desire for more grows, and you begin to push him against the wall of the tank, positioning yourself above him, your tail between his legs.

You lean closer to him, not daring to kiss him, yet, you let your lips wander over his neck, down his shoulder, until you stop at his collarbones. And you can’t help but bite down, leaving another mark, and another. Your hands rest on top of his thighs, and you let them run closer and closer, until they arrive at his waistband, all too aware of where to avoid touching him.

Yet, you don’t dare to plunge your hands deeper, rather, you take his hand in yours, guiding him to your lower body. His fingers touch your slit, and you whimper, but you don’t allow him to dwell on it, rather, you let his hand rest on another part of your body, one that has grown and squeezed out due to your lust.

His touch electrifies you, and you suppress the urge to press closer to him while avoiding direct eye contact.

“Weird?” you croak out with the heaviness of your tongue, the language still foreign in your mouth, and the shame and desire only made the words raspier, heavier.

But instead of answering, his fingers curl around the tentacle like limb, eliciting a moan out of you. Moving his hand across your length at a slow pace, his pads touch as much surface as possible, mapping you out. And you bury your face into his neck while pressing yourself deeper into his hand. The increasing heat floods through you with each stroke, pooling in your belly, and the moment he presses the tip with slightly more pressure, it overflows out of you.

Despite this high, there’s still some edge, one you need to get rid of, yet you want to take care of him first. Now, you dare to let your hand slip underneath his waistband, pushing it down, until he’s revealed before you.

His thighs are flushed, and he’s slowly swelling underneath your gaze. The mere sight of him heats your veins once again and you grab his legs by the diamond-shaped space underneath his knees, pushing him up, and yourself against him at the same time.

Cocking your head in question, you ask him if it’s alright, and all you get is a pant and a nod. The moment you do, your fingers glide across his length, and you feel him shivering underneath you. You slowly begin to move your hand, your palm putting soft pressure against the underside. While you hold a steady pace, you begin to insert yourself bit by bit, taking your time to stretch him around you.

The shivering turned into him bucking his hips against yours, seeking more contact, more friction on both fronts, his low moans flowing against your skin, fueling your own need. And you oblige, moving your own body closer to his, sloppy, uncontrolled thrusts, only led by your own desire and his movements. Your fingers taking up the pace, thumb caressing his thumb. You grunt as your body begins to tense, and the moment he reaches his climax, sputtering against your hand, your torso, you fall over the edge too, simply at the mere sight of him panting and flushed underneath you.

You let your forehead rest against his, and in the spur of the moment, you press your lips against his. Pulling away, both still panting, you don’t know who started it once again, but tongue meets tongue, as he presses you against the wall, the water sloshing over the edge, sucking and biting, teeth and spit and tongue and lips.

His hands travel, caressing your shoulders, the small of your back, squeezing your hips before dipping even lower. Fingers carefully touching your scales, a warm trail and a pulling sensation with each catch, before they finally find what they have been looking for.

A thumb presses against your slit, pushing against your swollen nub. The mere touch of him makes you clamp around nothing, and you’re suddenly glad your body is still submerged under water, or else Aventurine would have noticed how affected you are by his touch.

Lips and tongue and teeth meet the soft skin of your neck, and you shiver when he nibbles at your jugular while slowly moving his thumb against you. And you whimper, pushing yourself into his hand, hips bucking, as your hands grab his shoulders. With each circle, he spreads you apart some more, until he inserts the tip of his finger into you, filling the emptiness inside of you. Yet, it’s not enough. You begin to grind against his hand, desperate for some more friction, more movements, more of him.

And he complies with your not so silent pleas. He pushes his finger deeper into you, finding that one spot with a simple move of his finger. His pace is slow, torturously so, yet he keeps pumping into you at the same speed, no matter how much you whimper and babble. He keeps it, even when adding another finger, reaching deep into you, touching you exactly where you need him, and you squeeze around his digits, chasing your high by his doing.

After your muscles release all the tension, Aventurine pulls his fingers out of you, only to bring them to his mouth, tongue flicking out and gliding over his wet digits. You should feel embarrassed at this display, yet all you feel is more want.

Aventurine simply smirks at you, as he notices the way your gaze stays on his shimmering mouth. His hands grab your waist, hefting you up and onto the edge of the tank, exposing what has been saved and covered underneath the reflections of the water. And before you could even try to escape his clutches, he presses his open mouth against you and plunges his tongue between your folds. All you could do was to grab his hair and throw your head back in pleasure, your moans reverberating against the walls.

He licks and sucks at your clit, until you feel the wetness seep out of you. The moment he notices your reaction to his touch, he dips the tip of his tongue into you, teasing you, opening you a little more. His thumb has found your swollen nub once again, pushing and pressing with each thrust of his tongue into your depths.

Your body wants to move closer to him, seeking more contact, but his hold on you is firm, and all you could do is pull his hair, his shoulders, seeking anything to relieve the tension growing inside of you with each lick of his. Until your insides release at once, squirting all over his face. But your climax does not deter him, as his tongue continues to work you, cleaning you up slowly and meticulously.

That leads to you only aching for more. So, the moment his hands guide you back into the water, you grab his length once again, this time, leading him to your empty hole, weeping, waiting to be filled by him.

And Aventurine is perceptive, he does not need any more indication before he pushes himself into you, bit by bit, patiently stretching you out until you can take all of him. Your moans meet his, and his tongue plays with yours, mapping out your molars.

He mutters your name before he begins to move, each stroke controlled, thrusting into you at his own pace, yet with such force, you think you might feel him in your throat as well. His hand finds your slit again, rubbing against it in circles, as Aventurine lets his other hand stroke your torso, caressing your collarbones and your nipples. He pinches the sensitive skin there, and you press yourself closer to him, whimpering his name and begging for more in your native tongue.

It’s as if Aventurine understands you, because he begins to pick up the pace, pushing you against the wall, his control slipping with each time he plunges into you. His tip hits your soft spots, catching and kissing, until you cannot hold yourself anymore, releasing all over him, your walls squeezing around him as you tense, and as you dig your teeth into his shoulder with a cry of his name.

All these sensations seem to affect him more than anticipated, because he soon follows, his warm spend filling your insides with a growl of your own name.

He stays inside of you, slumping against you. His head rests against your shoulder and his lips kiss your skin. You envelop him in your embrace, leaning impossibly closer to him, the rush in your veins gone, leaving only the heat of his skin to warm you once again.

“Well, that should have been more than enough, don’t you think so?” he murmurs with a smile tainting his words, and all Aventurine receives is a throaty giggle and a kiss against his temple.

After everything, Aventurine is the only one who can bring balance to your life, and you would not have it otherwise.

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

Games in the library 18+ MDNI

Aemond x reader (Tutor/gamer au) Fluffish and also smuttish

Tags: smut, library fucking, public sex and nerdy gamer references.

Cool devider credits: saradika

🔷Summary: Your GPA is tanking and you need help. Luckily there is the grumpy antisocial Aemond to help you out.

🔷Author's note: Based on tutor aus but I made my own spin on it.

🔷Wordcount :7324

🔷Warnings: Au universe, smut, desk fucking, p in v, dom/sub, reader x aemond, fluff, gamer references, cozy gamer gf and shoot-em-up bf (found something else? Let me know)

There have been quite a few storms lately, causing more rain and making the world a little gloomy. You don’t mind, however. You have always been a fan of rain. Unlike today, where it’s an extra reminder how much you rather spent inside, cooped up with a good game with a warm cup of hot chocolate, not running around your campus with your bag above your head, as if life depends on it.

You are relieved when you make it inside, in the beautiful library that was built long before you began this study. You notice a silver-haired boy with a missing eye sitting in the corner of the room, with his math books in front of him, impatiently glaring around, unaware you are already there. “Hi!” you enthusiastically say, placing your Starbucks coffee cup and handbag on the table in the big messy library you just entered. It’s a saturday so most students would not want to be found death here at this time. 

You have a reason to be here, sadly. You are failing math, falling behind more and more on the subject. So your professor, Borros assigned you a very unwillingly tutor, Aemond Targaryen. He sighed when Borros suggested he should tutor you, even going as far to say that there is no use in tutoring someone who does not want to learn. There is truth in that, but the issue is not that you don’t want to learn. It’s something else.

Aemond glares at your cup before standing up and checking the time on his expensive smartwatch. “Why are you late?” Great. You were afraid of not getting here in time, seems like your Starbucks trip took a little longer than you had planned out.

You take out your phone. You are exactly 5 minutes late. There was a big line in front of Starbucks. And you forget you had tutoring today, to begin with. “I—uhm—forgot the time.” You lie.

He looks at your Starbucks cup accusingly. If it had feelings, the cup would feel attacked, perhaps even insulted, before it would hop off the large wooden table and into a nearby trashcan, ending itself. You would gladly follow it in the rabbit hole trashcan.  “I’m sacrificing my free Saturday for you. The least you could do is get here on time.” There is always a bit of a gruff, Gringe-like edge to his voice as if someone just stole his presents and he is pissed.

You huff. He acts so high and mighty, and yet you know there is nothing personal about this. He does not help you because he is some godly angel. He helps you to get points. This is not a charity project for him, or a social project this is cold selfishness and part of his plan to become the best student of your class, likely a step 4 in his 10 plan step to world domination.

You smile sweetly when adjusting your ponytail. “You aren’t sacrificing anything. You get points and the chance to become Borros’s TA.’’ You tell him, dangling his reward in front of him as if it’s a carrot, just in case he thought about bailing.

He dreams of that position for some reason, though you can’t for the love of the gods figure out why. Perhaps for status, power, future learning references or just to get close to Borros? Your teacher  had hinted that if he could somehow get you to improve your grades, there might be a chance he would become his teacher's assistant. That was enough to sway Aemond into teaching you.

Aemond briefly pushes his gold-rimmed glasses back on his nose, smirking at you.  You feel a little nervous under his gaze. “Correct. That means that I decide how this lesson will proceed.’’ 

His cryptic description makes your mind wander back to the familiar gutter you have come to know so well. You  make a mental note to stop reading dark romance books with tutors for a while. 

You ignore him. That makes him eager to get your attention back. “No calls, no texts—for the next hour, you are at my mercy.” Sweet gods.

His soft pink lips briefly smack before breaking into a grin that sends shivers down your spine. You are thankful for the small bolero that covers your dress.

Aemond is a huge nerd. Kinda cute, but he doesn’t know how innuendos work. And he is certainly not aiming his innuendos at you. 

“Okay. So, you’re like good at math, right?’’ you ask, a little insecure. You are worried he might not actually teach you anything at all, though he is smart, his hands almost always scorching through the air as though Borros is personally offending him with his questions. He reads advanced math books whenever you and your girlfriends hang out in the library, shooting glares whenever you are too loud, giggling or gossiping.

He seems insulted that you think so lowly of him.”’I’m the best in our class.” You never really kept eye on who is the best of the class, and you do not really ever cared. Who cares, as long as you keep up your GPA it is all fine.

But you are not dumb, you need to keep him as your friend for now. At least your ally. Your accomplice? You don’t know. You think you would be all the way at the bottom. ‘’Impressive.’’ You say, but you can’t bother to meet his eye before taking a sip of your very delicious pumpkin spice late.

His head tilts slightly when he narrows his eyes suspiciously, reading you as a open book. He huffs. “I can tell you don’t give a damn. Take out your notebooks, study books and whatever else you might need. It is time we start.” Whatever else you might need? You feel dread and anxiety fill your chest as you become aware of your thoughts traveling already far away from the lesson.

He brought an adorable little digital clock, that he puts on the table gently, before turning it on, exactly 120 minutes. He really does not want to be here a second longer than he has to be.

You faithfully take out your notebooks decorated with Sanrio stickers, Pokémon stickers and panda stickers, as well as your textbook, and your collection of Hello Kitty gel pens. You put it all out for him to see, flicking the textbook open in front of you. 

Aemond stands up, briefly looking over your handwriting in your notebook. He wets his lips before speaking. “Good girl.”

You roll your eyes.

He gets up from the chair across the table, walking to the empty seat next to you. He sits down, glancing at some of your previous sums, together with little drabbles and doodles. “So—what do you have problems with?” 

You can feel the warmth of his body and smell the fabric softener he uses on his clothes. He probably does his own laundry. 

This will be a long hour. You sigh, before summing it up. “Addition and subtraction, analog time, multiplication and division…’’ And you forget dozens of other things.

Anything and everything that involves numbers. You have been that way since a kid, throwing tantrums whenever you were forced to do math or make a puzzle. Your brain blacks out whenever you are forced to make a sum, and after a while your brain is just completely fried.

He wrinkles his nose, thinking. “So, everything?’’ he summarizes dryly. 

You nod. “Yep.”

His good eye slightly widens. “I can do this,” he mutters, to himself more than to you. He taps on an empty page of your notebook with his fingers.

‘’Write down ‘twenty-five plus eighty-seven’.”

You obey, faithfully writing the sum down in your notebook with your favorite Hello Kitty glitter pens. 

Aemond looks at the pen with a sigh, bending over your notebook to see what you wrote down. His brows furrow. 

You try your best to focus on his voice and his words rather than the fact that he sits so close to you and smells like fresh strawberries.

‘’Alright. Next, write down ‘one hundred and fifty-nine plus ninety-four’.” Again, you write it down as best as you can, in a reasonably readable handwriting. You hear him curse under his breath, exhaling.

“Five hundred and thirty-two plus six hundred and fifty-six..” 

You write a bit faster, messing up a few of the numbers in the process. You are glad you are starting with the addition sums, as they come the easiest to you.  

“Lastly, three hundred and fifty-five plus four hundred and sixty-six.’’ He looks at your sums. With one glance at his face, you can tell you’ve already fucked it up. “I said ‘one hundred and ninety-five’, but you’ve written down ‘one hundred and fifty-nine’. I said ‘six hundred-and-sixty-five’, but you wrote down ‘six hundred and fifty-six’.” 

Great. He must think you are doing it on purpose. Embarrassed, you quickly scratch out the numbers you wrote down before sighing, cursing yourself for thinking this was going to solve anything.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” he wonders. “Do you even want my help?” The nerve of this man. 

“What do you think?” you snap, placing the cap back on your Hello Kitty gel pens. “You think you’re my first tutor? You think you’re the first who’s tried to help me? I’ve done all of this before, but none of it matters. Nothing will stick anyway.” 

Your voice becomes squeaky. You blink rapidly to avoid ruining your mascara. He must think you are so stupid. You are. So, so stupid.

Aemond looks over your work again, sighing and rubbing his face. “No,” he murmurs quietly. “You turn them around. Some of the numbers.” 

That has been an issue since you were introduced to numbers. That and the bigger they get, the bigger the chance you mess it up.

“No shit,” you huff, searching your handbag for your tissues. You find them buried under your perfume bottle and use them to wipe at your eyes. 

His feet move under the table, briefly touching yours.

“Don’t get mean. Just making an observation.’’ He scratches behind his ear. “What do you mean, ‘nothing  will stick’?” 

Great. He will piss himself with laughter when he hears this.

You’d rather not tell him, or anyone, really. It is embarrassing. You are a twenty-two-year-old girl who can’t divide the simplest numbers and, without a digital clock, you’d get nowhere on time. You wouldn’t even know the time. People can and have taken advantage of that just to bully you. “It’s complicated,” you say.

His usual gruff voice softens. “Alright. So, tell me.”

What is the harm? you wonder. Who is he even going to tell?

“I’ve got a non-verbal learning disorder,” you mumble. There. He knows.

“What?” he asks, a little too loud for your liking. Even if he had whispered, it would have been too loud. There is no one here, yet you are worried somehow someone heard.

You growl back, “Non-verbal learning disorder. NLD.” 

It is a little less common than dyslexia—a lot less common, actually. You have heard that dyscalculia and NLD is a very common combination. That might be the reason you are so horrible at math. Part of your brain just refuses to understand it, which frustrates you, which makes you upset, and all that means you’d very much rather not do math at all. 

Aemond becomes very quiet before admitting something you never thought you’d hear. “I’ve never heard of that.” 

Where could he have, though? He is very clearly a math expert, not a learning disorder expert. 

You look at your polished pink nails with gold glitter.

“Hm. Not surprised. You are perfect after all, aren’t you?” you ask.

He becomes grumpy and unbearable, as you become mad and perhaps jealous that he is so perfectly fine and normal, and boring. “Fine. Don’t tell me.” 

Aemond takes out his phone. You thought they were ‘forbidden’. Didn’t he say so earlier? You glare, insulted. You have a social life, after all, and the world suddenly seems far more beautiful than it had been before you began your suffering here. 

“So, are you telling me you don’t know how late it is now?” He shoves a Wikipedia page in your face. He looked it up.

You take out your phone. “Of course I do. It’s fifteen-thirty.” 

You don’t say the correct time. You say ‘fifteen-thirty’. Fifteen thirty. Not half over past something, am or pm bullshit. You say it how it is. It’s fifteen-thirty.

Aemond draws a clock in your notebook. You quite like the way he uses your Hello Kitty gel pen for it. “And in analog time, that would be?” He wonders, his voice trailing off when his one remaining good eye glances at you.

You shake your head as he draws two hands on the clock, and multiple numbers. “Oh, no one cares about those lame old clocks,” you smoothly lie, and it is part of the truth. 

No one uses those old lame clocks anymore. Everyone and their mother has a cellphone. Why bother reading a clock if you have a cellphone? And in your case—why bother reading a language your brain seems to not understand anyway?

Aemond sighs, reading you easily. He scratches the clock out. “You can’t read them, can you?” He asks after he has scratched them out. You can either deny it or lie about it but why waste energy and time?

This man is too observant. 

“I know that the big one up means ‘twelve’,” you say with a little smile, very proud that one thing did decided to stick.

You can see it on his face—it’s becoming more and more clear that you don’t need a tutor. You need a miracle.  

He blurts out a question. “How did you even leave high school?” he asks. You don’t think he meant to hurt you, but he still does.

“How did you lose your eye?” you ask, lashing out.

Aemond sits up a little straighter. “That’s quite a personal question—” 

You smile back, still furious and hiding your displeasure by ripping your nails.  “Exactly.” you groan.

“Fine,” he mutters. “I’m sorry. I’m impressed, if anything.’’

Fake sympathy. Yeah. 

This is a waste of time, you didn’t learn years ago, why would you learn it now? Why did you even came here to begin with? A little voice reminds you of just why you came over. “You don’t need to lie to me. I know I’m stupid,” you mutter when playing with your bracelet. 

Aemond grabs your wrist, letting go almost the second his skin touches yours. “You’re not stupid. I know you can be very clever and an absolute pain in the ass when you want to be.” He grins. “Just… not with numbers.” He closes your notebook.

“Really?”

You know you are clever on other fronts. It’s just difficult to believe you aren’t stupid when you see how advanced your peers and friends are and you still struggle over middle school math.

He nods. “Yeah. I remember for a while in History and Language that you were a threat to my position as best student.’’ 

You’d liked History for a while, it’s true. You were good at it—that is, until you got a social life and it became an afterthought. What might have happened if you had stayed on that path?

You don’t understand why he wants to be the best. “I mean, you are already first in math, aren’t you?” 

He should not push for perfection as much as he does.

He shrugs. “I don’t care. I have to be the best in everything.” It sounds empty. You might not be the only one with problems.

You try telling him what you think. “That’s a little… unhealthy.”

He snaps at you, suddenly scowling. “Well, I don’t have a rich daddy to pay my way into school.” 

Ah. That is his issue with you. He thinks you’re a rich little girl that has a daddy that pays for everything.

You stare at your pink nails, briefly ripping at them before speaking. “I don’t either. Mine died when I was two. I have a stepfather, but he’s too busy fucking my mom and arranging vacations to Dorne for the two of them to bother with me.’’

Aemond’s chest sinks a little, regret written across his face. “I’m sorry.” 

He sounds sincere. And, just like that, you realize your math session has turned into a therapy session. 

You laugh despite your sadness. “Look at me, trauma-dumping all over you. Sorry.” 

You open your notebook at the same moment that Aemond grabs your fingers.

“I think you’ve earned a break.” He awkwardly lets go of you again.

That’s fast. “We haven’t solved a single sum,” you say. “I mean, we can solve one. I think this one is doable…” 

You look at your crossed-out sums. Oh, yeah. That happened. 

His silver-haired head nods up and down, but he does not answer at first, staring at your nails. “Perhaps not. But we have discovered why you have issues with this. Go take a break. That’s an order.”

He cheekily smirks at you, causing butterflies to flutter in your stomach. Perhaps not butterflies—perhaps just straight-up lust. You want to pull this guy in by his sweater and give him a good tumble.

You lick your lips. ‘’Yeah? What will you do if I don’t, sir?’’

He leans in a little closer, his eye flickering to your ruler lying untouched on the table. “Let’s just say… you wouldn’t like to find out.’’

Aemond takes a bottle of water from his bag and a sandwich while you grab a hot chocolate from the machine in the library and a freshly baked muffin from your bag. 

You eat your muffin and then take out your Nintendo Switch bag, starting the device up for a brief moment of relaxation. You play Animal Crossing for a few minutes, forgetting the world around you as you’re sucked into your peaceful little island.

Aemond is very silent as well, staring mostly at you.

“I’ve got one too.” You are sucked out of your island and back into reality. 

‘’Huh?’’ He nods to the switch.

He means a Switch. You didn’t think he would be into games. You think he would be too busy studying, really.

“What game are you playing?” he asks, tilting his head, coming a little closer so he can see for himself, almost touching your skin in the process as he clumsily bumps into you. ‘’Sorry.’’ He murmurs.

“A very intense one,” you comment as a compilation happens on your screen. You want to restore your island from desertcore to cottagecore and right now, one of your villagers has decided to be a menace. 

On Aemond’s lips grows an almost dreamy smile as he stares at you playing on your Switch. “Oh—like Xenoblades? Zelda? Hades?” 

You’ve heard of all three, but haven’t played them. They are not games you think you would like. They sound difficult, full of combat, full of puzzles and full of realisation that you are stupid. So you stay far, far away from them.

“Animal Crossing!” You turn your Switch so he can see your former desert island as you turn it back into a cute aesthetic-worthy village. 

He tries to blink, but he only has one eye so it looks a little awkward. “That is your definition of ‘intense’?” 

It can be. It can be so intense you rage-quit. Some of these animals have no manners—you’ve certainly bullied a fair few off your island. 

“You try terraforming your island when a lazy villager sits in the way!” You point with your finger to the panda cub that sits in the way, right where you want to plant a bush. “That’s Chester, and right now he’s making my life hell—” 

The panda, or Chester, enjoys a sandwich while smiling at your avatar, unaware of the misery he is 

causing.

“That panda is?” Aemond asks, confused. “The panda is the issue? Can’t you tell him to move?” 

That would be so helpful. But, unfortunately, no—that is not an option. 

You nod, turning your Switch back to you. “He just won’t leave. I can hit him with a net, but he would hate me,” you mutter. “Pushing him is useless. He’s, like, glued to this spot.”

Aemond smiles to himself. “Perhaps he is saying we should return to studying.” Chester would say that, the menace. He has not given you his photo either, the bear knows too much.

“He says to me that I can have five more minutes,” you say, smiling and blinking your eyes innocently. 

He sighs deeply, exhaling before putting his arm under his head, watching you terraform around your island. “Cute.” He sits up straight, blushing and quickly pointing to your Switch, decorated with stickers from Stardew Valley. “I meant, uh, the stickers.” He quickly mutters, and you can’t hide your own smile.

The stickers are cute, but you can’t help but wonder if he wasn’t talking about something else. “Thanks, they’re from Stardew Valley.” 

“I heard that game—” Whatever Aemond would say next would forever be a mystery. He is rudely interrupted by your fan dumping all over him, telling him the plot, the main features, and your personal opinion of the game in the world-wide record of 4 minutes as you ramble. “You’re kinda supposed to help this town flourish by bringing crops you grow, artisan stuff, to this community center. You can also romance and have children and have a pet. There is like magic too, but I wish it was more fleshed out-’’ You shut up quickly. You put your switch down.

He nods, but you can tell you are losing his interest. 

“You can slay monsters, too,” you blurt out. “And you have different swords, weapons and stuff. Sorry. I kinda ramble.”

“I like it. It’s cute when you ramble.’’ Damn it. You feel your cheeks redden. Aemond watches the rain outside, before asking another question about Stardew Valley. ‘’Can I kill my spouse?” he asks as a follow up. 

You know the modding community is very active, but they are like about dogs and cat breeds, about teleportation hacks and making portraits better. Not about you know, full-blown murder. “No…”

He frowns as if that surprises him. “Is there warfare? Can I take other people’s farms? Is there a princess for me to save?” No, no, and no.

You understand you two play different games.

“No, not really. It does have multiplayer, though.”

Aemond’s scoffing little smirk returns but it does not meet his hurt and very glossy eye. “I’m kinda a loner.” He laughs but there is a hidden sadness there. A sadness you relate too all too well.

“I am, too,” you say. 

“You have dozens of friends.”  You can still have friends and be alone.

He refers to the girls that you hang out with. Are they friends? You don’t hang out aside from the weekend. You can’t call them, if something has happened to you, and they definitely don’t know you game or have NLD. 

“Yes,” you say, “but…none of them game, I guess? Like, in that way, I’m alone. And I don’t make friends easily. Not everyone likes the games I play. Some wouldn’t even call it gaming. So, what kind of games do you like to play?”

He suddenly becomes interested in his very well cared for nails, and you know you hit a weak spot.

“Crusader Kings II, Zelda, Hades, Xenoblades and shooters.” He tells you. ‘’Mostly single-players.’’

You don’t know Crusader kings, but judging by the name, you do not have a cute farm at day and a run a witchy cozy coven at night. “The bloody ones.”

He snaps his head to you, smirking a bit.

‘’Zelda is not bloody.’’ Before he looks at your hair and your lipstick. ‘’I think you actually like it, if you gave it a chance.’’ He says. ‘’I mean, there is dozens of npcs to talk to, a wonderful open world, and ingredients to forage and outfits to collect and to find. In a way, it is Stardew Valley but without the Valley.’’

He definitely heard about Stardew Valley before. ‘’You know a lot about Stardew.’’

He nods. ‘’My sister, Helaena, she plays it a lot. I wouldn’t know how to play it, however.’’ He confesses, slightly tilting his hands. ‘’It’s beyond me how you get anything done with a time limit and a stamina bar.’’

You smile, and you never thought you would in his company. ‘’Describe the story. Of that Zelda game.’’ 

He needs some time to think before telling you the main story. ‘’You see, with an adventure game that’s…that would defeat the purpose of playing. So: You are a hero, named Link. After 100 years, you awake in a shrine, and you hear a voice, and you need to save the kingdom and the princess.’’ It sounds very …male-written and male-aimed. You aren’t sure Zelda is for you.

You have another problem with it too.

‘’That sounds horrible. Imagine waking up from your nap, and suddenly you got to save the world.’’

At first he is confused but the moment he knows you are joking, he laughs, a very delightful sweet and welcoming sound. ‘’It starts very locked, but there’s so much you can do in the game, in my honest opinion it's one of their best entries in the series. There’s cooking, horses-’’ Horses? There are horses? And cooking? ‘’There is combat, but you learn quickly, at least I did. The monsters are actually clever, and in the beginning, its best to avoid them until you get decent weapons.’’ You aren’t sure. Combat? The monsters in the skull cave of Stardew Valley regularly kick your ass.  ‘’There are puzzles too-’’ That is where you draw the line. No puzzles.

‘’Hell no. I hate puzzles.’’ You did as a kid, and still as an adult you can’t figure out how some people enjoy putting together these images, made up of 1,000 pieces and when they finish it, they destroy it too. Like what is the point? And it does not help you can never figure out where to start.

‘’I know.’’ That catches you off guard. Aemond does not pressure you into it. He simply accepts it.  ‘’But they are fun. We can solve most problems in multiple ways. You can’t fuck this up, if you are scared of that. Even if you die, you can restart as many times as you like. And no one is going to call you stupid for it.’’ He promises you, when leaning in a little closer, touching your face gently.

‘’Not even you?’’ You ask, for confirmation, not sure why you care but you hate for him to laugh at you for doing something very rookie. 

He shakes his head.  ‘’No. It took me a lot of time to get the hang of it too, if you must know.’’ So he is not as perfect as he pretends to be. ‘’I already told you: I don’t think you are stupid.’’

You lean in a little closer to him, staring at his soft pink lips. You make your voice as dry as possible. ‘’What if I call ‘’Link’’ ‘’Zelda?’’ You ask him with a cheeky grin. Nothing annoys Zelda fans more than that.

He grins back, but has faith in you. ‘’I know you won’t.’’ That is true. You know that the Princess is called ‘’Zelda’’ but the person you play as is called ‘’Link.’’ To confuse the two would be like calling JojaMart Pierre’s general store.  

‘’But what if I do?’’ You ask, getting a little cheeky. ‘’Hm? Sir?’’ You ask, pushing his buttons a little more as you grin. 

He needs to make an effort to hide his smirk, quietly muttering when eyeing the stickers on your switch. ‘’Don’t push me, we are alone after all, and I’m very bored.’’ He murmurs, sending a shiver down your spine when his voice gets that rough edgy little dark edge.

‘’Are you …Interested?’’ You ask, surprised.

He lifts his head, a bit insulted. ‘’You think I would not avoid you like the plague if I wasn’t?’’

All this time you thought he hated you, but he had a crush on you. ‘’I thought you hated me! That I annoyed you!’ 

He blushes, quickly cleaning his glasses for some reason. ‘’No, I just don’t like it when I can’t control my feelings. Like I become very different around you.’’ You noticed. He puts walls around himself.

‘’You become a little angry bird or a Goomba.’’ You know for sure he knows what a Goomba is, and you know it as well. They are the adorable little creatures from Mario games that try to murder Mario and look grumpy.

He chuckles, mortified by your description.

‘’Please, no, gods, not a Goomba.’’ 

You do find the courage to tell him your final thoughts, before flipping your notebook again, picking up where you left with the sums. ‘’If it helps, you are kinda cute too, Aemond.’’ You tell him, and you mean it. ‘’Not that I’m into Goombas, but..Yeah. You’re cute.’’ You tell him.

He nods, absently before he becomes serious again. ‘’Did you ever try motivational tutor lessons?’’ Motivational what?

‘’What uhm do you mean?’’ You ask, a little lost.

He shrugs, smiling. ‘’Well, people are more likely to succeed if there is a reward for them in it.’’ You notice him biting down at his lips, avoiding your eyes.

‘’And uhm, what would my reward be?’’ You ask your body to betray you within mere seconds as you think of how he will reward you. You, on the couch on top of him when fucking him-

He grins, when slowly touching your legs, going to the space between your legs, to where your dress ends. ‘’Whatever you like,’’ he purrs softly in your ear. ‘’ A cup of coffee, a donut…’’

You nod, a little disappointed and curse your dirty mind. That man is a saint for trying with you. Aemond reaches out to grab something close to your textbook and your eyes follow his fingers. ‘’People are likely to succeed more if they are disciplined too.’’ He is just teasing you, you tell your very dirty minded mind.

You know he will make you stand in the corner or perhaps take your phone away. ‘’And what would my punishment be?’’ You ask, dryly when you copy the sums from the textbook.

Aemond sighs. ‘’I won’t do anything you don’t consent to, that is the first lesson.’’ You were taking a sip of your cold coffee and nearly spat it out, all over your textbook as your cheeks burned with interest.

‘’But if you are into a little motivation, I guess I can show you another use for this pretty ruler.’’ He mutters, tapping with the ruler against the palm of his hand. You notice he has excellent self-control. This will be fun.

Yet you are surprised, that the red sweater glass-wearing sniveling little best of the class into BDSM. ‘’You’re into Kink?’’ You ask, your voice is a bit strangled.

‘’That’s not an answer, little brat.’’ 

He totally is. Gods, just your luck, stuck with Aemond Targaryen who is secretly into brat taming. Whatever sums you wanted to make, will certainly get fucked up now.

‘’Do you expect me to really learn better?’’ You hope he understands that your brain is just not a regular brain. It won’t magically solve things now that you are motivated. 

Aemond shakes his head. ‘’I kinda don’t. But it’s alright, love. I won’t get upset with you. Not really, at least.’’ He tells you with a grin. ‘’But I won’t lay a finger on you until I get your consent.’’ Such a gentleman. 

‘’Fine, you’re free to touch me.’’

On his lips, grows a dangerous smirk as he grins, before sitting next to you. ‘’What is the square root of 48?’’ He puts his left hand on your knee and slowly makes his way to your thigh…

Fuck. ‘’Uhm, 4.’’ You blurt out. It is a gamble but you don’t care.

Aemond chuckles before tsking as a disapproving teacher, before grinning and telling you the correct answer. ‘’That would be 6.’’ You growl, a little angry you didn’t know it. But he softly murmurs in your ear, when his hands go over your body. ‘’Take off your coat.’’ He tells you coldy. 

You let out a little squeak. He grins, adding softly. ‘’Again, if you want to, of course.’’

‘’I want you to strip too.’’ You tell him after you have taken your coat off. 

He chuckles, thinking you can’t defeat him. That you don’t know his weakness. But he told you, earlier today without him realizing so.  ‘’You can ask me questions but I know a lot more about math-’’

You interrupt him, smiling.

‘’What year did the Titanic sink?’’

Aemond gawks at you, before thinking deeply. It is a random event that did kill people, but it had no major consequences. ‘’1910?’’ He guesses. You grin. 

‘’1912, take off your shoes.’’ You tell him.

‘’Fuck.’’ he murmurs, but obeys. ‘’If I go with the train at 9:20, and the train takes half an hour-'’ No way you will get that one, so you take your dress off, zipping your zipper down and exposing your black bra and matching knickers. Aemond’s breath catches slightly, exhaling when his pupils enlarge.‘’Good girl.’’ That is enough to worsen your arousal and to harden your nippels. Aemond watches as it happens, a pleased contemptuous smile on his lips. 

‘’Tell me, little Brat. Darwin’s father has four children, Red, orange, yellow and-’’ It is a pattern question. A clear question. Red orange yellow are colors represented in the rainbow. ‘’Green?’’ The moment you said it, you repeat the question silently before growling.

‘’No! "It's Darwin!” You grow out.

He chuckles. ‘’You can keep your pretty knickers and bra on. I want you to sit on my lap.’’ You sit down on his lap, making sure to rub him a tiny bit in the process, to make him wild. He groans in your ear when forcing your ass down. ‘’Such a naughty little brat. And so wet for me too.’’ He murmurs in your ear when his fingers smoothly slide in your knickers, before toying with your folds, touching before inspecting your wetness. You twist on his lap, trying to force the finger to move deeper, harder, and rougher. Aemond pulls you tightly to his chest to avoid you moving at all.

You enjoy his control more than you should. ‘’Fuck…’’ You quietly mutter. He muses happily to himself as you squirm and twist on his lap. 

‘’So tense, are we shy, little brat?’’ He is toying with you, torturing you.

‘’Aemond, please.’’ You beg, helplessly as he begins to fuck your body with his fingers, and you happily fuck his hands, clenching yourself whenever you are allowed. 

You need to find release soon, and he knows it very well judging by his smirk. ‘’I’m afraid I won't listen to that name. You will call me Sir or you will refrain from speaking at all.’’ He says, and your fucked up little brain enjoys it too much.

That is so hot. He has an authority kink. ‘’Fuck!’’

He grins, as he takes a stance behind you.

‘’I’m afraid I can’t allow such crass words.’’

Oh shit. You feel your heart race and your stomach flutter with lust and butterflies and your curious mind wanders. ‘’Aemond…’’ He grabs you briefly by the throat, but he does not make it hurtful. He raises a brow. 

You look at your shoes.

‘’I meant, Sir…’’ Your face is pressed down against the wood of the table, before Aemond growls.

‘’Nothing will save you now, little brat. You are all mine.’’

He grabs the ruler and your cheeks are spanked first with his fingers before he moves on to the iron ruler, hitting your cheeks with precision but hard enough for you to like it. You squirm on the desk, certain you leave a trail of wetness as Aemond uses the ruler on both your ass cheeks, finding a torturous rhythm. And yet you like it. You want it to happen again, you want to brat. ‘’Fuck,’’ you cry out as three of his fingers enter your pussy. His left hand is feeling you up, when his right continues to punish you for your sins. ‘’Sir, sir please!’ You moan.

‘’Are you sorry?’’ He asks, between fucking you on the desk with his hand and spanking you. You nod, furiously. He sighs, letting go of you and his fingers leave your spent wet cunt. ‘’Good. Don’t be naughty again or I will punish you again.’’ He warns you. You want to brat. And you want to brat so hard that he will punish you with his cock this time. 

You bring your own fingers to your entrance but before that you can shove them in, Aemond has grabbed your wrist, painfully twisting it. ‘’Seems like someone can’t behave herself.’’ You nod, furiously as if you regret it deeply. Aemond sighs. ‘’Pull my pants down for me.’’ He tells you, and you inwardly cheer. You get to work, unbuttoning his jeans for him and pulling them down first, before staring at his boxers which barely hide his erected cock. 

You pull his boxers down too, freeing his cock as the red swollen tip is pushed in your face, with clear precum on the edge. ‘’Get on the desk.’’ He tells you. ‘’Bent over it, the way I know you want to.’’ You know what he means very well, and you obey, bending over the desk so he could take you on it.

He sighs before grabbing one of your hands and wrapping your fingers around his cock. ‘’Make me go wild, and I’ll fuck your little needy pussy.’’ You obey, your back turned to him as you try to please him with your fingers rubbing his head and his balls. 

You are bended, and Aemond opens your legs roughly and sharply, before going inside of you with his cock, filling you all the way with his length as you silently whisper. Aemond starts to trust and you become lightheaded and carried away on your pleasure. He fits so well. ‘’Sir,’’ you weakly mutter as he fucks you on the table, your book and hello kitty gel pens still present. Aemond grunts as an animal before grabbing the ruler, smacking your cunt this time, causing you to cry out in pleasure. ‘’Sir!’’ You repeat your own cry, before slamming your hips against his own, begging him to finish you. ‘’Please!’’ 

‘’Such a needy cunny. I’m going to come inside of you, little Princess. You are going to tell all your little whore friends about this, that you got fucked by a man in the library, used as a glorified slave. You will tell them how red and throbbing your little pussy was, and you will not tell anyone it was me. Is that understood, or do you need me to fucking explain it another way?’’ You understand, but you would love another explanation because it sounds so dirty.

‘’Another way. I’m pretty stupid.’’

He glares as if he disagrees with that.

‘’Very well.’’

Aemond grabs you by your hips again, fucking you.

‘’’N-no, Aemond, I have a party tonight-’’ You tell him, begging him to be a bit gentle.

He groans. ‘’I don’t care. Fuck your parties.’’

He did not get invited.

‘’Nhn!’’ You cry out as his cock cruelly fucks you, not giving a damn about your warnings.

Aemond’s lips briefly kiss your sweaty forehead. 

‘’Delicious, such a good cunny.’’ He murmurs, rubbing your cunt until blood sticks to his fingers. You need a little push. Just one tiny push. ‘’And now, you will come for me, my slut. When I tell you, you will come all over my cock, soaking me.’’ You nod, bracing yourself.

Aemond fucks you harder and faster and it becomes difficult to hold your orgasm in. You need to release it, you need to find a release fast. ‘’Sir, please.’’ You beg, helpless. He grins, spanking your needy pussy.

‘’I know, but try to show some self-respect, my little brat.’’ 

You wordlessly wail. He sighs, before impaling you thoroughly and resting his hands on your hips. He whispers in your ear. ‘’Come.’’ You obey, freed from a prisoner and let go when you two fuck each other roughly, your muscles hurting from the rough fucking on the desk. And finally, you come all over his cock, just as he promised you would. He takes you two more times after that, bringing you close to two other orgasms, before denying those two. You are taken without warning and lose your control, coming all over him, earning you a spanking and a rough fucking before he comes inside of you as well, with a lot of curse words and grunts. 

‘’Fuck, Y/N.’’ He murmurs, in your ear. You put your underwear and bra back on. The timer ends, revealing that two whole hours have passed. Aemond dresses himself quickly too, looking at your messy hair and glassy eyes. 

You become aware of the feelings and the urge to run far away from them. ‘’I have to go.’’ You tell him.

Aemond stops you, gently and you know he has become himself again, dropping the dom-act.

‘’No. You seem to know some things about Kink, but after playing with my ladies, I give them aftercare. You deserve a bagel, or a donut, or fuck it, another Starbucks if you want. If we were at my place, I’d prepare a bath for you or give you a message.’’ He rambles on. ‘’Let me buy you something nice for your lunch, and at least walk you home.’’ He asks, no, begs. Your face melts at his sweet manners. 

You put your stuff in your back, as Aemond zips up your dress for you, careful to avoid your hairs. He has done this before. You wonder how many times and with who. ‘’She is judging us.’’ He suddenly whispers, nodding to your hello kitty gel pen. 

After two hours he has become just as mad as you have. ‘’She knows too much, I might drown her into my Starbucks later.’’ You tell him.

He does not approve of that idea.

‘’That would be sad and torture.’’

‘’Fine, I’ll just…put her in my pencil case.’’ You do as you promise him, putting the gel pens in your pencil case.

‘’That’s it, good girl.’’

He winks before following you to Starbucks.

‘’Hey, uhm Aemond?”’ You ask after you are waiting for your order. Aemond looks around a little amazed. He has never been here before, calling it a capitalistic hell. 

‘’Yeah?’’ his hands nervously play with his rings. He can be so adorably shy.

‘’What are you doing tonight?’’ You wonder, hoping you don’t regret this. As in, he does not say no.

‘’Not much, I might actually play Zelda. Why?’’ He wonders.

‘’Want to come to this party with me?’’ You blurt out with a smile.

a/nthank you for reading let me know what you think. there might be a part 2 but i havent decided yet.

The eh creatures above the a/n are goombas.

[strawurberries]

Oh my god! Berry I had an idea and I had to come running to you with it cause I thought you'd enjoy it too (and cause your writings awesome) but,

A Soulmate AU where you can hear the other person's thoughts?

With Vash, Wolfwood and nai please! (Separate obviously cause I honestly think having all three as soulmates would just be too much xD)

Whether headcannons or a little scenario thingy I leave up to you 😁

Hope you have an awesome day! - 🍰anon

Soulmate Head cannons

Summary: Head cannons with little drabbles about Soulmates <3

Authors Note: I'm sorry this took so long! Finals are finally over so I can focus on writing :) I hope you all enjoy!! Also I wouldn't mind having all three as soul mates. . . but ya know 😂

Warnings: Self-hate, mild sexual themes, angst, cursing, mentions of religion and murder.

Vash didn’t know what an ocean looked like—deep, painfully blue, and so cooling yet full of dangers unimaginable—but he assumed it had to be something similar to the sight before him: sand dunes rose and fell like the chest of some great giant, tumbling across the horizon without thought or remorse. Compared to the vastness of sand before him, he was nothing but a speck of dust—smaller than the grains of sand that covered this desolate, prison-like planet. Part of him was comforted by that fact, knowing that in the grand scheme of things he would be nothing but a passing memory—no one out there to judge him, hurt him, or even see him. Yet he also hated the loneliness of it all. Looking out and seeing no life but himself, it only served to remind him what he was. 

Vash the Stampede:

“Shit!”

He paused, feet sinking into the dry sand below. A semi-cool wind hit the back of his neck. “Hello?” his voice echoed out into the world around—hello. . . hello. . . . . hello. Nothing responded and he adjusted the strap over his shoulder. He must really be losing it now. He had suffered from heat stroke before, had experienced delusions, and been near deaths’ door due to the pounding suns above, so, unfortunately, he knew what might be happening.

He stood still for a moment, longer. . . nothing. Okay, perhaps this was a one time delusion and he’ll be fine.

“How the hell am I going to get out of this alive?!”

He whirled around, looking for any sign of life—the person of whom the disembodied voice belonged to. After a moment he confirmed his suspicions. There was no one around. He groaned and covered his face, thinking to himself: “the heat must be getting to me. . .”

“What?”

He blinked, “What?”

“Who are you?”

“Who are you?” he yelled out into the vastness of the desert. No one responded. “What the hell?”

“Great! I’m getting shot at and I’m hallucinating!”

“What is happening right now?!”

“You tell me! You’re the voice in my head!”

“No, you’re the one in my head!”

The first time you two met—and by that, I mean: the first time you two heard each other—was a mess. You were busy running for your life, and he was wandering through the emptiness of a sandy sea. Both of you, due to different reasons, thought you were going insane. You thought the adrenaline of the situation finally made you snap, and that this run-in with danger took the last bit of your sanity. Vash, on the other hand, swore the heat was out to kill him again and he ignored you for the most part—no use in talking to a delusion. It was only after you both reached safety and had a night's rest, that you both came to realize this was something more than hallucinations.

“Uh. . . so. . . are you real?” Vash thought to himself as he washed his face in the sink, the morning sun starting to make the hotel room feel like an oven.

“Of course I am! . . . are you?”

From then on you two talked a lot, and bonded immensely considering the other’s deepest, darkest and most intimate parts are on display. 

Vash tried desperately to keep the fact that he’s a plant and an outlaw a secret, but simply thinking about how he wanted to not think about it, made him think about it. And, therefore, you heard it all within the first five minutes of knowing him.

“You’re Vash the Stampede! The humanoid typhoon?!”

“Uh. . . no?” He thought about how stupid of a lie that is.

“I can hear your thoughts, Vash! You can’t lie!”

“Aw man I forgot!”

Really, Vash was terrified at first. Having someone able to hear his thoughts? It meant his act, his silly persona, was useless. He was laid bare in front of a person he didn’t know, had never seen, and wasn’t even sure if they were 100% real. No matter what lie he constructed, the truth would be sitting somewhere in his thoughts; easy to access, and even easier to talk about considering there was no way to ignore each other.

“Vash?”

He didn’t want to talk today. A mother had been killed, he had been shot in the shoulder, and ran out of town faster than he had ever known was possible. Sitting by himself in a crude rock formation, miles from any town with the moons shining down on him with pity. He wanted to be alone—to wallow, and think, and cry, and grieve for what was lost and what could never be.

“Vash, I know you're throwing a pity party right now.”

He wiped some tears from his eyes, watching the stars. 

“Vash, Vash, Vash, Vash, Vash, Vash—come on! I know you're hurting, but it wasn’t your fault. Nothing is. The whole space ship thing? Not your fault. Your brother? He’s his own person, you can’t control his actions—his decisions aren’t on you. The deaths? Inevitable, Vash. Everyone dies someday.”

“But they died because I was there!” He hated showing this side—the pain, the anger, the grief. He didn’t deserve to feel this way. His life, the wandering and suffering, was his punishment for failing to save the people he loved. He didn’t deserve comfort.

“When I finally meet you, I’m going to slap you upside the head before giving you the biggest hug you’ve ever felt.”

He blinked. “Eh?”.

After the rocky start, the weird emotional trauma bonding, and the insecurities—Vash fell hard. Having someone who could peer into his very soul? It, despite feeling so terrifying at first, made him feel so understood and. . . safe. This person has seen the very worst of him, the bottom of the barrel, and yet they chose to keep on talking to him. And, of course, normally Vash would take those emotions to the grave. He doesn’t deserve love. Whoever loves him, whoever he loves, will end up dead. But those thoughts, quite literally, are destroyed the moment they are given tangible sound. 

“I love you too, so I need you to stop thinking that I shouldn’t. Even if you keep running away—” despite the fact that he so desperately wants to meet you he’s terrified you’ll get hurt, and runs away the moment you're in a hundred mile vicinity—“I’ll still love you. And one day I’ll find you Vash. I promise that.”

He sobbed for about an hour straight after that.

He really does want to meet you, it’s the truth, but he needs to confront his fears before he can enjoy your love without guilt. 

Wolfwood:

Wolfwood couldn’t fall asleep. The lull of the bus hadn’t hit him yet, the rocking and groaning metal not a lullaby but a shrieking reminder of how far away from civilization he is. Usually he’d be passed out by now, cigarette limply hanging between his lips, but he had opted to twiddle with it between his fingers. The smoke curled around his palm, lazily rising up into the musty air of the bus. No matter how long he closed his eyes for, how many sheep he counted, or how he positioned himself, he couldn’t reach the comforting arms of sleep. Eventually he gave up, annoyed that everyone else on the bus—excluding the driver himself, thank god—had managed to peacefully drift away into their dreams.

“I’m tired. . .”

He blinked and chuckled quietly, “you and me sister.” He turned away from the window, taking a small drag of his cigarette as he turned to see who had spoken. A lady across the aisle looked at him, tilting her head. He gave a small wave and she turned away quickly. 

“Rude,” he thought for a moment before sighing. Maybe he should try to go to sleep again.

“Hello?”

He blinked and looked around. Surely someone must be sleep-talking. Right? “Wish I could be sleeping,” he looked around once more, eyes lingering on the lady across the aisle who was now starting to doze off. “This sucks.”

“Okay, I’m hallucinating now. God damn it. I knew that I shouldn’t have eaten that sandwich.”

He turned around, looking behind him, and then back to the front where the bus driver was humming a song to himself. “What. . .?” Pure confusion was all he felt. Earlier he had spent several hours in the sun, but the heat couldn’t have gotten to him this bad. . . right? Right?

“Oh God, please make this food poisoning death quick. I’m not into pain.”

Sleep deprivation must really be getting to him. This is going to be a long ride.

Chaos. Absolute chaos. 

Part of Wolfwood thought for a moment he might be getting possessed—he tossed that idea aside quickly but he did consider it for a moment before shaking his head. The other option, he thought, would have to be that the stress of trying to find the Humanoid Typhoon finally caught up to him, and he’s in the middle of a psychotic break. But he remembered hearing that you can’t be aware that you’re in psychosis so. . . where does that leave him?

“Has God really forsaken me this time?” he grumbled, stumbling off the bus and waiting for someone to toss the Punisher down to him.

“I hope not!” came the voice again, “I already have bad luck. If god hates me then I’m really a goner.”

Both of you came to the conclusion fairly quickly that there was no demon or god involved, nor were either of you dying or having a breakdown. Wolfwood, unlike Vash, accepted the situation a lot faster. He was confused and apprehensive at first, after all, no one likes showcases their true, intimate selfs—but he got over it fairly quickly. If this was what fate had given him, he would accept it. After all, it didn’t seem to be too horrible. What’s the matter with appreciating the good things in life?

When he gets bored he’d just stare off into space and annoy you—doesn’t matter what you're doing, or what he’s supposed to be doing. He’ll call your name over and over and over, or start preaching until you tell him to shut up. Sometimes, though, he will start talking about the dirtiest, strangest things you’ve ever heard of until your interest is piqued or until he can hear a reaction from you. Either way, no matter what method he chooses, you’ll eventually be talking to him.

“Here’s another quote, ‘Give your burdens to the lord. And he will take care of you. He will not permit the godly to slip and fall. Psalm 55:22’. You know, personally, I’ve always thought that bible verse—”

“Please shut up. I will literally kill you.”

“I’d like to see you try, Doll.”

His favorite pastime is annoying you, making you flustered, or straight up saying the most out of pocket shit you can ever imagine. And, the funny thing is, you always know what he’s trying to do yet he still manages to get a reaction. It doesn’t matter if he spends several minutes brainstorming before saying what he wants, and it doesn’t matter if you try and prepare yourself, he is a master at being a cocky, loveable bastard.

He does hate when you manage to get him to talk deeper about himself, when you bring in the comfort and philosophical talk. Deep down he knows this life isn’t something he wants to partake in, he doesn’t want to go down the path that has been chosen for him, but what other option does he have? 

“You don’t have to kill.”

“How am I supposed to survive if I don’t? This world is built on blood, and one person trying to make it better isn’t going to do shit.”

“Well, I actually think it’s two people trying to make it better. Can’t say I’ve ever killed anyone.”

He was slightly salty when he got that response. 

He didn’t fall first here, but he most certainly fell harder. His heart is a little petrified, and he often lets people in, but only deep enough to where they feel accepted yet can’t glance at anything too important. It’s like if he invited you over to his home, showed you the kitchen and living room, but kept every other door locked and closed. Yet you had the key and essentially broke every lock in one go. He still doesn’t know if he hates or loves it.

He also desperately wants to meet you but, like Vash, he’s terrified you’d get hurt. But his love and desire outweigh his nervousness and, besides, he’ll protect you with everything he has. If he must die for you, so be it. So, the moment he is sure of himself he asks where you are. And, of course, you knew this was coming, and he knew you knew, and you knew he knew you knew. Make sense?

“Do you want to meet in person?” he thought about how much he wanted to see them, feel them, hear them with his ears not with. . . his mind? He wasn’t really sure how this whole thing worked.

“Of course! How could I deny you when you’re practically begging?!”

“Begging? You haven’t seen me beg yet. . . and now that I think about it, I haven’t seen you beg either. That must be a pretty sight, huh?”

Bastard. He’s a bastard.

Million Knives:

Knives were pissed. No matter how loud he played the piano, or how many plants he surrounded himself with, he could not get that annoying little song out of his head. A solemn, lonesome hum that echoed through his mind like nothing he had ever heard—and it infuriated him beyond anything he had ever known. At first he had assumed it was the sound of the pipes, the mechanical building breathing with man-made life, but once he found himself in the desert, alone, he knew that wasn’t the case. It crossed his mind for a moment, a moment, that he might be having some mental issues but he quickly tossed that idea out the window. He could never have any problems like that, never. 

He brushed his fingers along the piano keys, thinking of problems past and future, thinking of what is to come and how he should deal with it all. His own thoughts, he noticed, almost drowned out the humming; that was, until, a voice blew through his troubled mind. 

“Woah, you’re a plant?”

He whirled around, ready to mame and kill whoever had managed to infiltrate his base. . . but no one was there. “Come on out now!” he seethed, “and I’ll make your death painless.”

No response but the clacking of gears and the hiss of steam.

“Audacious human,” he spit out in his mind, already thinking of different ways to kill whoever dared to address him. He began to stalk the room, eyes snapping from one corner to the next. “They can’t hide long. I’ll find them.”

“Why are you so violent? Geez. . . well, I mean I guess it makes sense but don’t you get tired of being angry all the time?” The voice trailed off and began humming that infuriating tune. A vague thought that wasn’t his came to the forefront of his mind, wondering if it was worth eating the stale bread or if he should—wait no, not him because this isn’t his thoughts—they should wait until they get paid tomorrow to eat.

He ignored the mundane thoughts and confronted the voice in his head, “you’re the one who’s been singing that idiotic song?!”

“Wow, you’re rude too. Who would’ve guessed?”

The conversation devolved very quickly after that.

To be honest, you’d be found very, very quickly. Unlike Vash, Knives won’t avoid you; and unlike Wolfwood, he won’t wait until the time is right—he’ll rush off into the desert and hunt you down in less than a week. Finding a stranger is surprisingly easy when you have infinite access to their thoughts. At first he was angry and only wanted to find you so he could cut your head off, but soon—despite his hatred for admitting this—he found you interesting.

“I’m coming to kill you, and you’re not worried at all?”

“I’ll die someday, and besides, I think I’m starting to charm you.”

“I will rip you apart.”

“Sounds sexy.”

You infuriate him on so many levels he doesn’t even know where to start. 

Actually, he does know where to start. You peer into his mind and learn everything about him and oh my god that pisses him off because now a human—a mere human!—knows everything about him: his trauma, his fears, his past, his brother. And he has now way to stop you from learning about him. Out of pure spite, though, he tries his best to learn nothing about you. . . but that plan fails quickly.

“I’m going to kill myself!” you cry out in your mind, rage edging at the tone of your words.

“Please don’t, it’ll take the joy out of me torturing you.” 

“I’m already being tortured! My boss sucks! Ugh! I’m going to kill him!”

He has a tiny, second-long urge to say he’ll kill the man for you before he literally gags with disgust. He had never been so glad someone was distracted because if you had focused on his intentions in that moment you would have teased him until he showed up on your doorstep and killed you. 

Over the course of the couple days he spent tracking you, he unwillingly came to be invested in your life and found a small amount of joy when he debated with you. 

“Humanity sucks, yes, but we can be good!”

“It doesn’t matter if you can or can’t. What matters is what you’ve done, and what you’re doing. Your potential means nothing when compared to the damage you’ve done.”

“. . . damn it why are you smart. Also, I didn’t do anything! I was just born!”

“That’s a sin in itself.”

“Okay, well, gotta call you out on that one. Being born is not a sin, also, what are you? A preacher? Jesus Christ!”

“Don’t use his name in vain.”

“What?”

After he gets over his initial repulsion and hatred he finds the look into human life interesting. You’re pitiful, weak, and disgusting yet you still push on. Why? Why? Why?

“Why not?’

“It’s useless.”

“So?”

“So. . .?”

“I got you, the great Knives, tongue tied? Wow, I can die happily now.”

Overall, it takes a while for him to fall for you. At first it’s purely rage, and then it’s curiosity, and then. . . maybe he’d call it interest. He wouldn’t fall first and he wouldn't fall that hard, but he’d still appreciate you in some capacity. 

[the-witch-of-one-piece]

Love Is A Four Letter Word: Taiju Shiba x Fem Reader WC: 4.2k TW: Angst, Arguing, Break-up, Stalkerish on Taiju's part, Hidden Pregnancy, Complications, Praying A/N: I got too invested in this one but I liked it! I had to look up a prayer because I didn't know any Christian prayers. I hope you enjoy!!! MINOR DNI 18+

“If you’re going to leave don’t think about coming back.”  Taiju's venomous words hit you deeply. The vein bulged from his forehead as he looked at you.

“I won’t” Your bag was already over your shoulder wiping your eyes as the tears escaped crashing down on your cheeks. “I can’t keep doing this with you. As many times as I tried to prove to myself how much I love you, it’s never enough for you..." you didn't know what to say or do anymore when he got into these moments it was too much to handle. "It’s best to end everything right now because at this rate I-.” you couldn't even finish what you were saying you looked at your hand removing the promise ring he gave you on your first anniversary. Placing it on the table near the door. You grabbed the handle to the door, a shaky breath escaping from your lips. You couldn't look back as your feet got closer to your car. it finally began to settle in when you began to drive off from the home you shared with him. Moments ago the heated argument turned sour.

Taiju watched the door close; he didn’t think you would leave this time. The sudden realization of something warm trickling down his fingers was his own blood, seeing the open wound on his knuckles. He started to look around to see broken glass fragments on the floor, the hole in the wall. An incident that was so small turned into something big. Things flew around when he couldn’t control himself. He hated himself; the only thing in his life that gave him some type of meaning was gone. With his own pride, he couldn't go after you.

Memories of the good times hitting him all at once from seeing your smiling face in the morning, to the way you laughed, or the way your fingers combed through his hair when his head was resting on your lap. Thinking you would be back in a few days when you both cooled off from the argument. The days had passed he hasn’t heard from you. Failed attempts over the phone you were serious this time. 5 years of being together from the time you both were in your teens now at the age of 21 splitting up.

Looking at the phone number that kept populating You couldn't hear his voice because you knew you would break down and go crawling back to him. Declining the call, you opened his contact scrolling down and pressing the block number. Staying at your friend’s home for the next few days as you were already looking for a place. “You’re really serious this time.” She spoke standing at the entrance of the doorway to the room.

“I can’t do it anymore…. Him acting like such a rabid beast where he can’t control himself. Too many close calls not anymore.”

“ I'm assuming your not going to even tell him at all?”

“It’s for the best… if he knew he would have me in the home all day and if he ever got mad where it’s taken to the max. I couldn’t forgive myself.” Looking that the small sonogram photo. It was going to be a surprise that night when you found out, letting him know you were going out for a few hours. It took longer than expected at the doctor's office than to grab some items at the store. The first thing he began to assume was you were with someone else.

Your friends felt her phone vibrate. Looking at the caller ID “It’s Taiju…. What do you want me to say?”

“Don’t tell him I’m here… just say I’m somewhere else.”

“You know he might show up here…” letting out a sigh she answered the phone “Hey Taiju...no she is not here” rolling her eyes, you could hear him on the phone speaking. “when I see her, I can tell her to call you, but you know I cannot force her to call you…" he spoke to her and must have said something to irk her nerve "Let me make it clear she is my friend an- “she looked at her phone “he just hung up on me… Look he might come over right now…He knows you’re here....Look my parents are out of their home for a few weeks why don't I have you go over there until you find a place? ”

The familiar home you were constantly at growing up. Countless sleepovers you endured in this home. Living like a carefree happy teenager now you hear as an adult avoiding your lover you knew since high school. ‘It still looks the same.’ you said placing your items down in the room she used to sleep.  

~~~~~~~~~

“If you're lying to me about her being here I will-” Taiju said before getting cut off.

“Or what Taiju? I told you she is not here. If she was here I wouldn’t have let you in.” your friend spoke in an annoyed tone. “She needs a break, Taiju let her be.” “Listen if you hear from her let me know, just tell her I want to talk to her?” Taiju was hoping to see you here. 

“I will let her know.”  Your friend opened the door to the hallway. Taiju knew you were there evidently you left a few items around that he knew were yours. He was wondering if she was really going to tell you to call him. He was becoming a bit annoyed at himself for how he was acting about wanting to speak to you. ‘If she wants to talk to me she knows how to find me.’ he said to himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Six months had passed since he tried to reach out to you. When you found out about your pregnancy you were 2 months along. Now being 8 months pregnant you were close to the finish line. The apartment you were renting was a few miles away from your old childhood home. The countless nights of working just to get the items ready for the baby's arrival. You were looking at your computer, your eyes hurting as you spent hours working on the damn computer. The only good thing was you got to work from home. Turning off the computer you were finally done with the report. Your hands rest on the table as your palms rubbed your tired eyes. You felt the baby kick. “I know mommy needs to get some sleep.” your hand resting on your belly. Getting up you dragged yourself into your bedroom. Laying in the bed. You grew so accustomed to sleeping on the left side that you still favored your left side of the bed. 

Nights like this when it's late at night when you missed him the most. The soft words whispered in the night. The way his arms wrap around you making you feel safe. You couldn’t deny you missed the sex.  Then you began to think about if you stood with him. Would he have been happy? Would he have been ready to be a father? Would he love his child? The more you thought about it the more you felt emotional. Picking up your phone you just needed to hear his voice just once, maybe even try to tell him you were expecting a baby with him. You ended up changing your number in this time frame but are still not comfortable calling him on the new number. Placing your phone number in private you contemplated before hitting the call button. 

Taiju was just at the grand opening of one of his restaurants when he felt his phone vibrate. He was in his office grabbing an item when he saw a private number. “Hello?” when he answered the phone. You covered your mouth just the sound of his voice made your eyes welt up you couldn’t even talk. Taiju pauses for a moment hearing the faintest sniffle “____?”

He sat on his chair, his elbows resting on the desk. His voice was calmer knowing if he were to get upset you would just hang up “Come on babe.. I know it's you… Can you just say something?” 

‘I’m sorry I left… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I’m pregnant and it's your baby… I'm sorry I ignored you for all these months, and I’m sorry for calling all of a sudden like this…’ you thought to yourself those words couldn't come out of your mouth all you could say was.  “Taiju…. I’m sorry.” you brought the phone away from your ear “______ wait can we just.” as he was speaking you hung up the phone. Tauji looked at his phone, seeing the call disconnected. Just this call was giving him a sign that you didn’t give up on him or what you both had. He lit a cigarette looked at his phone as he took a puff then exhaled, he knew one person would know where you were at. It may be a bit stalkerish but he wanted to talk to you. The friend you went to in the beginning. 

A few days past you and your friend were having a seat in your living room. “Why would you call him?” she sighed. “You said you were done with him.” 

“It's hard to explain okay. I was with him for 5 years, he was there and protected me from a broken family. All the memories I have with him I just couldn’t forget them. I honestly tried so hard to but I can’t forget him.”

“I was there too, I know it was a screwed-up house hold for you… If you gave him that bit of hope you need to tell him. It was fine when you weren’t speaking to him but now this is a whole new ballpark. He is going to end up eventually finding out… you are due right around the corner. You don’t think he might see you out while you're pushing a stroller around?” 

“I get it okay… I just have a lot of stuff on my plate. “ you took a deep breath feeling a braxton hicks contraction. 

“You okay?” she asked, walking up to you.

“It's just the braxton contraction… I need to lie down for a moment.” She helped you to the couch. 

She could see the exhausted expression on your face. “Get some rest _______. I know you wanna keep going but it's not good for you and the baby… I need to head out right now. I wanted to drop by and see you… Call me if you need me to come right away.” She exited the apartment and began to make her way to the car. In his car, he saw her coming out of an apartment complex and driving off. Lighting a cigarette in his car, looking at the complex it was right here all along. He didn’t want to go there right after her. He waited for a few hours.

The night came along and you were settling down, you were just out the bath drying your hair when hearing the door knock. You weren’t expecting visitors at all, “who is it?” you called out

“It's me.” The familiar voice spoke. You froze for a moment and he found you quickly…. “_____ come on, open the door please?” 

Taking a deep breath, your hand opened the door. Slightly opening the door, Taiju was in  a suit standing there. “Tai what are you doing here?” asking him. “I want to talk… That's all.” He looked down at you only seeing your face. You were hesitant for a moment before opening the door. Taiju walked into the apartment, looking around the apartment. It was just simple, you just had everything you needed.  Closing the door you were hesitant to turn around to show him the secret you have kept from him.

“Taiju…. I can’t turn around until you promise me something…” taking a deep breath “you need to control yourself.. Can you do that for me?” asking him. 

“Yea…” 

The moment turning around each second felt like an eternity. When you were finally facing him. He's catching your swollen belly. Taiju continuously looked at your swollen belly then back at you. “This is why you wanted me calm…” he kept it together and did not go off as he promised to you moments ago. “Well I need a fucken explanation now.” Taiju brows furrowed at you. 

“I’m 8 months pregnant…”

“No shit I know that. But whose baby is it?” he asked, his eyes focused on yours.

“Of course, you would say something like that. Taiju the baby I’m carrying is yours. But will you even trust my word? You never seemed to trust me at all, always assuming things… If you don’t believe me, we can have the baby tested when they are born just to prove it.” you felt your hormones taking over more. You were angry by his words and for him to assume something like that.

He was holding his tongue back more than he wanted too but now you were carrying his child he couldn’t act like an animal. “Were you even planning on telling me or just continuing like I never existed in your life?”  you could hear the anger in his voice bubbling more as he talked. 

“After the baby was born. To be honest with you, I was scared about having the baby and telling you… After the fight and the mess I couldn’t put myself or the baby in danger. So I left…” “You think I would harm you or my unborn child if you told me you were pregnant? Do you really think I’m that much of a monster?”  placing his hands in his pocket.

Taiju began to remember the moment when he first told you he was going to always protect you. He saw your corrupted family and he was the one who saved you from them. All the pain and suffering you endured he didn’t want to ever put you through that again but there were times his own insecurities took over. He would overthink things along with hearing compliments from people on how pretty his girlfriend was or just talking to other people as you were making conversations. It fucked with him he just never wanted to lose you but he did. You could see he was thinking long and hard about everything he has done in his life. Almost consuming his own thoughts. “Can I ask you something then? if I told you I was pregnant what would you have done?” 

“Married you.” 

“Taiju marriage is not-.” 

Quickly cutting you off knowing you were going to assume something that wasn’t what he was thinking of “You don’t get it… No matter if you were pregnant or not I was still planning on asking you to marry me. You were the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. The person I wanted a family with… The goddamn person that gave my life any meaning in it. That day you left I thought you were coming back. I want to fix us so the next step in our relationship was to tie the knot but you never came back. The calls that went to voicemail then finally blocked. I just decided to stop until you called me a few days ago… finding out you're carrying my child right now.”

“It’s a lot. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” you rubbed your face letting a shallow breath out. 

“I would have been there with you the whole entire way to help you out instead of you busting your ass off like you have been doing.” he noticed the discoloration under your eyes from the lack of sleep. At this point he couldn’t even be mad; he was more concerned about you. “Come on, sit down.” 

You didn’t even disagree with him at this time you followed what he said. Sitting on the couch you laid back. You closed your eyes for a moment. Walking to the kitchen he brought you a glass of water. “Thank you…” you held it in your hand taking a small sip. It was weighing in on you now. Feeling the baby move around a bit more. Resting your hand on your swollen belly. 

He wanted to know more about his baby, at this point he was going to be a new father soon. “When is the baby due?” he asked.

“ July 20th a few days before your birthday…” taking a deep breath feeling another contraction. 

Raising his brow at you “what's going on?” he asked. 

“ I get braxton hicks contractions. They just have been more active lately.” 

“What caused them?” with very little knowledge on this subject  he didn’t know what they were. “A lot of things,, the doctor is aware she told me to make sure i rest, stay hydrated and do calming activities.”

It was no brainer he saw you were more stressed than usual. Taking a seat next to you, his hands resting on his knees as he looked over at your swollen belly. Where your hand was resting he could see the slight movement from the baby moving. He missed everything in this pregnancy, seeing the growth of his baby, being cheated out of going to the appointments, wanting to know the sex of the baby, prepping for the baby's arrival, his family knowing late as well.  “And you're doing the opposite…” he shook his head.

You noticed him still looking at your stomach. He wasn’t sure if he was able to touch you or you would tell him not to. “The baby is moving, do you want me to feel?”

His hand reached over, placing it where your hand was previously at. The sudden movements against his hand. A life he created with you he could feel with the palm of his hand. He knew he wanted to make this work with you. That small amount of hope still twinkled in his mind. He knew you like the back of his hand. You still loved him no matter what happened. This moment right now he began to think of what he needed to do. July 20th was in a couple of weeks.  “_____…. You don’t need to worry about anything anymore. The baby will have what they all need. I want you to come back. Things will change, I promise you that. Just come home,”

“Tai I have to thi—“ the sharp pain hitting your lower pelvis sitting up trying to catch your breath.  

“What happened.” He asked more alert seeing how you eyes closed tightly. 

“It’s just another brax con—“ you groaned and knocked the wind out of you. This was way stronger than any contraction you were feeling.  

Taiju knew this wasn't  right seeing the distress looked in your face. Scooping you in his arms he carried you to the car. The first thing he did was to take you to the hospital.  The small trickle of something between your thighs “no no no .” You began to freak out more. “ it’s too early. Tai, it's too early.” Feeling the contraction coming again stronger.

“______ you need to relax.” He was trying to rush as quickly as possible to the hospital.  “Breath” he didn't know what else to say just breath.

Taiju parked the car. He rushed to get you out seeing how your bottoms were wet. The staff at the hospital quickly got you into the room after hearing the man who was carrying you in his arm shouting for help threatening the staff that if they didn’t get you in a room quickly he was going to raise hell. Hook you up to the monitor and they began to monitor the baby’s heart rate. They notified your doctor about you being admitted for early labor. While waiting for her to arrive the on-call doctor performed the exam. “ right now the contractions you feel were true labor contractions and since your water broke while in the car. Looking at your chart it was recommended to take it easy your last trimester.” 

“She hasn’t.” Taiju spoke looking at you then back at the doctor.

“Being 35 weeks and going into labor there’s a chance the baby can come out fine but then there’s a chance of health risk as well. We can only hope for the best right now. Checking your cervix right now you are about 6cm dilated. It could take up to a few more hours as well before giving birth. We are going to check on you in about an hour.” She said she walked out of the room.

You felt another contraction coming in strong. This was your fault you kept thinking. If I would have just taken it easy I wouldn’t be in this bed. Covering your eyes feeling emotionally overwhelmed. I could have prevented this all. 

He was right next to you. The only thing he could do at this time is try and calm you down. At this time he sounded like a broke record “_____” he responded he removed his hands from your face he could see the tears falling. With both his thumbs wiping them away. “I want you to stop blaming yourself… this is going to cause stress to you and our baby.” He said “ I’m not going to leave your side.”

Sniffling you nodded. The only matter of seconds you could feel his lips pressing against his forehead.  It seemed to be the only thing to help relax you for a bit. You needed him here you couldn't do this yourself.

The countless hours of the pain of labor, you didn’t expect Taiju to be this calm. He was the one to try and calm you down. “I can't do this.” You cried out in pain. 

“I need one more push.”  The doctor spoke. At this point you wanted to tell the doctor off but knowing it would just be the hormones talking. 

Throwing your head back on the pillow. Your head turned to Taiju. “_____ one more push. The baby is almost out.” Brushed the strand away from your face. You nodded at him.

The final push the baby was brought into this world. she was brought into the world but anticipating the cries it was silent. You couldn't hear anything.

“Tai” trying to catch your breath, your vision was a bit blurry “she is not crying. Why isn’t she crying?”  You were trying to be coherent as much as possible. 

Taiju watched the nurses come in one by one as they brought the incubator in trying to clean her up. “What’s happening?”

“Her lungs haven’t fully developed, we need to help her breath.” One of the nurses spoke calmly seeing that this situation was becoming critical. 

Taiju only took his eyes off of you for a second when speaking to the nurses. “Tai..” you called out you felt your vision became more tunneled. 

Turning around he walked closer to the bed. His hand cupping your cheeks “_______….______” he couldn’t get a response, your eyes were lowered.  “ You need to stay up. _______ you got to stay up.” He was freaking out. Hearing the monitor going off for you,  more of the nurses came in everything was  happening so fast “______! What’s going on what’s happening.” He was asking in a louder tone. 

“Sir, we need you to calm down.” The nurses spoke

That was the last thing you heard before you blacked out. Taiju felt himself becoming more impatient as it took security along with some of the doctors to explain what was happening. He didn't want to be kicked out of the hospital. All he could do was wait, people haven’t heard from him. Any call he didn’t pick up. 

Hours had passed before you woke up. Your body is completely sore. Your eyelids felt swollen, “your up.”

Turning your head to the side “how is the baby?” Asking him.

“She is being monitored right now… you passed out a few moments after your blood pressure dropped extremely low.” Taiju closed his eyes for that moment. He felt fear he had flashbacks of his mother passing away in the hospital and a fear that he could have been taken away along with his daughter. “I thought I lost you both at that moment… I prayed to god to keep you both here with me. I don’t ever want to lose you both.”  The blank expression on his face spoke to you.

~~~~~~ 

When you were still passed out the nurses had you stable. They offered to show him where his daughter was. Walking into the NICU he saw multiple babies with different issues going on. When his eyes laid on his daughter he saw how tiny she was  he couldn’t pry his eyes away. She was hooked to so many wires as he watched her tiny chest rise up and down.  He fell in love instantly.  The small little opening where his hands was able to fit his child’s skin was so fragile. He felt the need to pray for her strength. “God, please give my baby all that is required for a good way of life and for a good way of living. Please let this child bring joy and pride to me and my family. I will give all that is needed to this child. And help me to do my best to guard and protect my baby for her lifetime. Amen” 

~~~~~~

You could see the hurt in his face without him even speaking about it. Him being here the whole entire time worried about you and the baby showed he was serious about wanting to fix things... “ you won’t lose us…. I promise. Tai.”  you hand rested on top of his. He just needed to hear those words. His head resting in the bed, your fingers combing through his hair.   

The baby spent two weeks in the hospital until she was cleared to come home. It was all last minute but he managed to turn one of his rooms into the nursery creating a sea theme. 

Taiju constantly cradled his daughter in his arms, soothing her fussiness she began to doze off. He didn’t mind the crying as the doctors encouraged it to help develop her lungs to become stronger. “Is she okay?” Walking into the dimly lit room of the nursery.  You both didn't get much sleep. When you could see how much he loved his daughter.

“She is fine.” Taiju finger caressing her supple cheek. Making your way towards him. He held his daughter with one hand and his other, placing it on your lower back. Kissing your temple. “She is going to have visitors this week.  More people want to meet her.”

“She is already loved by many.” Softly speaking “let’s have her rest we can held back to bed.” 

Taiju gently kissed his child’s forehead, placing her on the crib. Entering the room where you both were, you were back in the position before the baby woke up. His hands wrapped around you. Your head resting on his upper arm. He looked down at you. Noticing the ring that you left with him was back on your finger. “I love you _____ .”

"I love you too tai.” Your hands resting on his cheek leaning in pressing your lips against his. You snuggled into him close once more before your eyes close.

@satanlovesusall666

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[anichibicore]

Starsong

Summary:

"Hey, Shads?" Shadow couldn't help the sigh that easily slipped out of him. "Yes?" "Do the stars look different here than they do on the ARK?" In which a race turns into some much needed comfort, which then turns into stargazing, and so on.

Read on AO3

note: i'm not copying the word vomit of a note i put on this on ao3 but just know this got very far away from me about halfway through. i don't usually post my writing here, but i'm way too proud of this one to not share everywhere. so. here. also i was not aware just copy-pasting the whole thing from ao3 kept the formatting which thank god for that. i didn't wanna go through doing it again

Shadow stood off to the side, resting against the large tree near the party table, just close enough for Rouge to not assume he was plotting to sneak off. He promised he would stay, after all. Despite the day he's had, he didn't want to go back on it. His back still ached, the feeling of the wings he no longer had lingering like a phantom limb. He's sure he looked like a complete mess, but if he did, everyone was kind enough not to point it out.

Sonic popped into his vision then, an obnoxiously cheeky grin on his face as he leaned next to him. Shadow did his best to not look too annoyed at the proximity. Sonic laughed a bit and inched away a tad, and it was all he needed to know he didn't do a great job at that. "Glad to see you made it, Shads."

Shadow hummed his response. "Rouge told me to come, so I did."

"Well, either way, it's cool you showed." Another grunt in response. Sonic shifted from one foot to the other. "Did you, uh... want cake or anything?"

"Not hungry." He answered curtly.

Sonic nudged him lightly with his elbow, huffing a laugh. "Are you still mad I beat you earlier?"

"No." Shadow had almost forgotten about that, in fact. Too much had happened today. He was sure he was forgetting more. All he could think of was Maria and the professor. A nagging part of him wanted to be back in that white space. To be locked back in that one moment of time forever. He knew it was a selfish wish. That didn't change how much he still wanted it.

"Hey, are you good? You seem grumpier than usual."

"None of your business." Shadow snapped a bit more forcefully than intended.

"Alright, alright, I won't push it." Sonic laughed, putting his hands up in surrender. "Y'know, everyone else here has a present for me, so perhaps~...?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself." He spared a glance to Sonic smirking at him and sighed. "...You get a race. Wherever you want."

"Oh, you know me too well." As Shadow started walking away, Sonic zipped in front of him and bowed slightly, holding out a hand. "May I have this race, then?"

Despite himself, Shadow smiled. "I suppose so."

"Race from here to Seaside Hill?" Sonic asked as he jabbed a thumb behind himself.

"I said wherever you want."

"Well what are we waiting for? Let's get our race on! Hey, Tails! We need a referee!"

Within just a few minutes, Tails had a flag ready as Sonic and Shadow took their positions. Sonic grinned at him as Tails ran over the rules, and Shadow rolled his eyes and focused as the fox began the countdown. The second the signal was given, he took off, the sounds of the party vanishing within seconds and replaced with the wind blowing past him. A glance next to him showed Sonic easily staying neck and neck with him, the only thing that wasn't a blur as he ran. Sonic caught his gaze and laughed before speeding up ever so slightly. The sun was half below the horizon by then and they were still a fair distance from their goal. It soon left and the stars started to dot the sky in it's place.

Shadow caught a glimpse of a familiar flower and started to slow, taking in the sight of the hill he'd been standing atop just last night. The ARK was bright in the sky, almost like a second moon, like a beacon for his eyes to fixate on. The tree at the top he'd destroyed was exactly as it had been when he left, the trunk snapped almost completely, hanging on by a few pieces of bark, crushing the flowers it had fallen on. Shadow climbed up the hill slowly, careful to not disturb the flowers that hadn't been crushed or ruined from his outburst. He sat down once he reached the top, his eyes locked on the ARK. For just that moment, it was just him, the breeze, and his thoughts.

His emotions were still muddled, even though their little race had, admittedly, helped ease his aching. Somehow, getting competitive with Sonic like this had that effect on him. Shadow couldn't properly name most of his feelings no matter how hard he tried. A part of him felt oddly at peace — relaxed, even. Like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Another yearned for that timeless void again, for his father and sister. The feeling tore into him, made him want to run right back to a place he could no longer reach. The last one burned strongly, fiercely, and viciously, no matter how hard he tried to snuff it out. It was the only one he could clearly name, the kind of rage only a monster would feel. Those parts of him were at war in his head and it was starting to get too overwhelming for him to stand. It practically sapped whatever energy he had.

"..adow? Shads? I wasn't going that fast, was I? Shadow?" Sonic's voice grew louder in the distance. He likely only then realized he'd lost Shadow entirely. The wind rushed past him as Sonic zipped up to him, stopping just off to the side of his vision. He bent at the waist into his line of sight, concern plain as day on his face. "Hey, you sure you're cool? You look... real tired, Shads." Shadow didn't have the energy to answer. He simply pulled his knees up to his chest and shrugged his shoulders, staring past Sonic and up to the sky. Sonic backed up and followed his gaze, making a small sound when he saw the space colony so clearly present in the night sky. "Ah. One of those days, huh?" He offered Shadow what he assumed was meant to be a comforting smile, but it simply came off as forced to him. Shadow tore his gaze away from there and it landed on a flower right next to his feet, swaying gently in the breeze.

The grass rustled as Sonic sat next to him, one of his quills bumping his own when Sonic turned just enough. No matter how hard he tried, Shadow just couldn't shake that day's events from his head. Facing Black Doom again after he'd destroyed him so long ago, the powers he forced on him, trying to make him what he wasn't... His back still had those phantom pains from the wings sprouting from them, tearing through his flesh to reach the surface.

Almost like he read his mind, Sonic spoke again. "Geez, Shads. The fur on your back's all messed up. It's not like you to leave it all screwed up like this. What the heck happened?"

"It's none of your business, Sonic." He couldn't will any venom into his voice. He was too physically and mentally drained for it.

"You sound about as tired as you look. If you don't wanna talk about it, that's fine, but I just wanna know. Did something happen back in there? Just a yes or no is cool."

His back felt raw. Shadow was almost certain he would have scars from his wings — wings that weren't his, wings that were forced on him by a monster. The unparalleled power of the Black Arms blood coarsing through his veins, the way it burned like a fire under his skin, yet made him feel so complete... It scared him. Scared and disgusted him, a reminder of how much of him was wrong. And... seeing Maria and the professor again... seeing his family again, hearing them tell him they love him, that they're proud of him, and him knowing he was fated to let them both down... He wanted to be back with them. To feel whole again. Leaving them behind when he had a chance to save them hurt far more than any physical pain he'd endured in there. The hole that had been left behind by their passings felt so much bigger than it had before. The next breath he took trembled as it reached his lungs. The sting in his eyes told him he wouldn't be able to hide it any longer. "Yes."

Sonic quietly scooched closer and tossed an arm around his shoulders, squeezing him just a bit. "It's okay, Shads. I've gotcha." Shadow bit his lip hard, but it still did nothing to stop the broken sob that managed to force its way out of him. He buried his face in his knees as much as he could. He wasn't sure if the tears he was crying were the result of grief, frustration, relief, or a mix of the three, but it didn't really matter now. They were there either way, letting them out was the only way they'd stop.

It didn't take long for the tears to stop, and he brushed off the arm around him as soon as they did. A part of him was annoyed that the attempt at comfort actually worked. "I'm going to let that slide just this once."

"Take it that means you feel better now?"

"I... suppose so."

Sonic shot him a smug grin as he asked in an equally smug tone, "And did I help with that?"

Shadow couldn't exactly deny it, but his pride refused to let him admit it straight to his face. "Shut up, idiot."

"I'm taking that as a yes."

"You say a word about any of this and I will ensure you don't live to see another birthday."

Sonic put his hands up in defense, but it was clear he didn't take his threat seriously. "Relax, Shads. I won't tell a soul." He reassured with a laugh.

Shadow huffed and went back to observing the ARK. It still felt a little strange, looking up at his home from the place he used to marvel at with Maria. The hole in his heart ached more than usual when he recalled all those times the two would sit in the observatory and simply stare. He even remembered a few times the professor had come in, waking the two up when he found them passed out on the floor, surrounded in every pillow and blanket they could find in the colony. Eventually he'd start coming to join them when he had a break from his work. Those ones with the professor were memories he only recently got back, and part of him wasn't sure if they were always there, or if they were new ones formed after his encounter with his family in the white space. He liked to think it was the latter, that it was the professor's way of giving him more fond memories to look back on once they were long gone. His mouth moved without him thinking too hard about it. "I saw Maria and the professor again."

"Back in that weird time pocket thing?"

"Yes. It was... nice." He only then realized there was a smile tugging on his face, but he didn't bother trying to hide it. Yet it wobbled when he carried on. "I... didn't want to leave. I would've stayed there forever if I could."

"Shads..."

"I know it would've been selfish, but... I just wanted a little more time with them."

"Hey, even if it was only for a little, you got to see 'em again. Plus, you've got 'em up here," Sonic tapped his own head, "so, even if they're gone, you can still see 'em whenever you want in there. Right?"

"Your way of thinking is as simple as always, I see." Shadow remarked. Sonic gave him an indignant "hey!" in response, and Shadow laughed before letting his eyes drift to the stars. "But, I suppose you aren't entirely wrong."

"Hey, I'll take it. Glad to hear your day wasn't completely awful, too." After a minute, Sonic cleared his throat, getting his attention again. He looked oddly hesitant when bringing up his next topic. "But, I'm guessing that's not all that happened in there. Judging from... well..." Green eyes flicked from his face to his back for just a moment, almost too quick for him to catch. "So, uh... Mind if I ask?"

His mood quickly soured again. He knew the topic wouldn't slip by so easily. Sonic was way too nosy when it came to him. "What makes you think I'll answer?"

When Sonic defended himself again, it was a little more panicked than his joking version of the motion earlier. "Hey, it doesn't hurt to ask! Sides, you're kinda worrying me here, Shads. And you know I'm not a worrying kinda guy"

"Yes, I'm aware. You're awful at hiding it." Shadow sighed loudly. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to tell him. "I ran into Black Doom in there as well."

Sonic's eyes narrowed, his mouth twisting to a frown as he huffed and crossed his arms. "Take it that went about as well as his last attempt at father-son bonding time did." Shadow leveled a glare at him for the phrasing, and Sonic chuckled nervously. "Sorry. Continue."

The spots from which those wings had torn their way out from his flesh itched like salt was tossed into them. None of the other powers that were awakened by Doom's influence were anywhere near as agonizing. They still all made him feel sick, the reminders of just what kind of blood he had in his veins, the alien feeling of completeness that terrified and disgusted him. It made him want to tear into his veins and let it all pour out, as if letting himself bleed dry would remove the cursed part of his blood, let him claim some semblance of normalcy in his existence. But the worst thing was the anger. He knew Black Doom was coaxing it out of him, bringing out the raw anger that he'd only truly known those first few days after being freed from stasis. That didn't mean it hadn't worked. He could feel it bubbling up again just thinking about how easily he'd been controlled like that. How Black Doom might've gotten what he wanted if Maria hadn't been there to snap him out of it.

"Shadow?"

He'd torn a clump of grass out of the dirt without realizing, crushing one of the few flowers that had survived the blast that felled the tree behind them in the palm of his hand. Its petals were wrinkled and damaged, and he gingerly placed it in roughly the same spot he'd callously pulled it from as if it would undo the damage. Just thinking about the situation seemed to rile him up all over again. He had the feeling that fact wouldn't change any time soon. It wasn't something he could easily put into words, not with how tired he still felt. Sonic didn't need to know the extent of it, anyways. So, he opted with, "It doesn't matter now. He's gone for good. We should never have to worry about him again."

Sonic thankfully seemed to pick up the hint, letting the topic drop without comment. "I'll take your word for it. But, if he somehow comes crawling back to Earth again, I'll help you kick his butt. That alien creep won't see us coming. Right, Shads?" Sonic tapped his arm with his fist, wearing a confident smile when Shadow looked.

Shadow eyed his fist. "I can take care of him myself, you know."

"Yeah, but it'd be better with a partner, right? Besides, I can't just let you have all the fun."

He couldn't help the small huff of a laugh that rose up as he tapped his own fist to Sonic's still hovering next to him. "Fine, you win."

"Cool. Anything else you wanna get off your chest while we're here?"

"Not particularly."

"Want me to play a song, then? I could pro'bly go yoink my guitar from the house in, like, two minutes tops."

"I'd like some peace and quiet for a minute, Sonic."

"Uh... Sure."

Shadow laid down in the grass, letting his eyes slip shut for just a few moments. Sonic must've copied the motion, the grass to his right rustling with the other's movements. He didn't realize just how tired he really was. Not until Sonic's voice roused him from sleep clawing at his conscious. "Hey, Shads?"

Shadow couldn't help the sigh that easily slipped out of him. "Yes?"

"Do the stars look different here than they do on the ARK?"

Shadow looked to the other, seeing him stare straight up at the sky. He did the same, the moon starting to inch its way into their vision, signifying the passing time. The stars weren't as prominent in the sky as they were when looking at them from space. It felt like there was less of them, actually. It made sense. They used to view them while dwelling among them, so they had stars to see for hundreds of thousands of miles and nothing in the way. "A little. They're not as bright here. And there's less."

"Yeah, that sounds about right." The conversation lulled to a comfortable silence for a while before Sonic piped up again. "Y'know, Tails used to be obsessed with space."

Now that was news to him. "Really?"

"Yup. Well, 'used to' implies he's not anymore. I found this old, banged up telescope way back when we were kids. Thing didn't even work since the lens was cracked. Kid took it and fixed it up and would stay up late just staring up at the stars with it. Heck, he's the one that chose where our house would be since the Mystic Ruins escapes most of the light pollution of the city."

"And he's still like that?"

"Not quite as much, but yeah. You'd think it'd lose its luster for him since we've been up there, like, what? Ten times by now? But he's still as passionate as ever. I wouldn't be surprised if I woke up one day and saw he managed to scrape together a fully functional rocket with a bunch of scrap metal and literal junk."

Shadow could picture it already. Sonic stepping out to see Tails had a whole ship, launchpad and everything, built overnight in the front yard. "I don't think I'd be surprised either, frankly."

Sonic laughed. "I used to get him a bunch of books about space for his birthday. Kid probably has enough to fill a whole shelf by now. He'd blast through them all faster than it'd take me to run across the the continent and then ramble about all the stuff in them for hours. I admit a lot of it kinda flew right over my head, but one thing always stuck with me, and I haven't really thought about it till now." Sonic's tone shifted and it got Shadow's attention. It wasn't quite serious, but it wasn't his usual laid-back tone, either. Ruminating was the word he decided to settle on, as strange as it sounded for applying to the blue blur. His expression matched the tone when Shadow looked, and he was stretching out one palm to the sky. "Most of the stars up there aren't really around anymore. But, they're still just as bright as when they were when they existed, and we still look up at them and admire their light. Talking to you made me think about it a little more just now."

"How, exactly?"

Sonic's hand dropped back to join the other on his stomach as he met the other's gaze with a confused expression, like he expected Shadow to just understand and was surprised he didn't. "Well, think about it." He turned back to the stars. "Even when we're gone, there'll still be people that remember us and look up to us. It's even possible people will remember us millions of years after that. We'll keep shining on in their memories. We're a lot like those stars, in a way."

Shadow allowed his gaze to wander back to the sky, landing on the ARK as it did. The stars around it seemed brighter in that moment, two particularly vivid ones right next to each other that he couldn't tear his eyes from. All at once, he understood. "You're right."

"I am? I-I mean, course I am!"

"It's weird hearing myself say that, too." Shadow laughed. "When did you become such a deep thinker?"

Sonic huffed in mock offense. "I've always been a deep thinker, for your information!"

"Sure, sure."

Silence came again for just a brief moment. "Hey, Shadow?"

"Yes?"

"I think I retract cashing in that birthday race now. I think we've both had enough excitement for one day, anyhow."

"Unfortunately, I'm not accepting refunds." Sonic shot up with a cry of "what?!" as Shadow laughed and stood up. "I'm kidding. Consider it refunded."

"I can never tell when you're joking, man." Sonic replied as he followed suit, standing and stretching his back. "I know we did a lotta stargazing already, but me and the gang were doing a little camp-out by the house tonight if you want in. Y'know, just chill out under the stars and stuff."

"And you're inviting me because...?"

"Shads, you cried on me and let me gush about my little bro's space obsession for, like, half an hour. I get the feeling you don't wanna pull out the loner act tonight."

Shadow felt himself grimace at how easily Sonic had nailed that on the head. The offer was tempting, but... the part of himself still raging inside, calling him a monster, reminding him of his blood, forced itself into the forefront of his thoughts. "I'm not sure they'd want me there."

"Oh, c'mon, Shads! They like you! They were worried about you as much as I was. The only reason none of them tried to talk to you was 'cause they weren't sure if you even wanted to talk."

"I don't want to intrude." The words left him easily, even though he himself didn't really mean them.

Sonic wagged a finger at him with a stern frown, almost like he was scolding a child. "Nuh-uh-uh, I'm not letting you play that card. As the birthday guy, I declare that you aren't intruding unless I say you are. And you aren't, since I'm inviting you. If you really don't wanna join, you can just tell me, bud. I ain't gonna be mad."

Shadow desperately, almost instinctively, wanted to come up with another excuse to uninvite himself. But Maria's voice, an echo of "you deserve to be happy," rang in his head, cutting through his self-deprecating thoughts, and he gave up trying to argue. "Alright. I can go."

Sonic looked surprised, and Shadow suspected the other was expecting a "no" to the offer. "You sure?"

"I'm sure."

The blue blur stared him down for a moment before a smile popped back on his face. "Glad to hear it. You wanna walk, or are you up for a run?"

Shadow started making his way back down the hill to the beaten path, looking to Sonic over his shoulder. "I thought you wanted to save the race for another time?"

Sonic followed him, stretching one arm across his chest as he walked. "I did." He hopped a few steps in front of him and spun around, walking backwards with his hands behind his head. "I just don't wanna ditch ya. The place isn't that far from here. It's, like, a ten minute walk. Or a one minute run, if you prefer."

Shadow couldn't help the grin on his face, keeping his tone light as he said, "You're being rather polite today, aren't you? Are you sure I'm the one that needs help and not you?"

Sonic stuck his tongue out at him. "Sorry for caring." There was no real annoyance in his voice, and he sprung back pretty quick. "Seriously, though. You set the pace. You know I can keep up."

Shadow's grin shifted to a small smile, one he didn't bother to fight. "Alright. Lead the way."

Sonic's smile somehow got wider as he spun on his heel and continued his stride. "Come along then, we're losing starlight out here!"

Shadow followed along with a chuckle from the back of his throat. He still didn't quite feel like himself, but he felt better. It'd be a lie to say Sonic didn't help with that. "Sonic?"

The blue blur stopped mid stride and looked over his shoulder. "Yeah?"

Shadow thought for a moment, considering his options, before closing the short distance and pulling the other into a tight, awkward hug, feeling him tense up. "Thank you."

Sonic, to his credit, only hesitated for two seconds instead of twelve like Shadow thought he would before he returned the hug, seemingly making a point to avoid his back out of consideration. "First you cry on me, now you're a hugger? Who are you and what have you done with Shadow?" He teased, and Shadow couldn't help but laugh. "Seriously, though. Anytime, Shads. Anytime."

Shadow pulled himself away, and Sonic gave him a pat on the shoulder before letting go. An idea came to him then and he quickly readied himself to take off. Sonic tilted his head to the side as he stared at him, as if the extra forty-five degrees would help him figure out what was happening. A sly grin came to him as he plainly stated, "Race you there."

He didn't wait for Sonic to answer before skating away, hearing his confused and frantic yelling getting quieter by the second before the other caught up. "That's gotta be cheating, right? This shouldn't count as my birthday race! You better not count this!" He wildly gestured as he yelled.

Shadow grinned at him as he looked from the corner of his eye. "If you beat me, I might consider it."

"Wha-Shads, you-I-!" Sonic sputtered like an old car engine, stopping and starting his protests again and again before shaking his head and speeding up. "Fine! You're on! I hope you like the taste of dust, 'cause you're about to eat mine!"

Sonic easily pulled ahead, and Shadow sped up to match. They went back and forth like this for a while, and ended up doing loops around the area a few times until they ultimately sped up the steep hill next to the workshop. Sonic ended up tripping on one of the steps and losing, and Shadow ultimately decided this didn't count as Sonic's one free race as he helped him up. He couldn't read the others' faces as well as he could Sonic's, but they seemed glad to see him, and he felt a little relieved by that.

The five of them ended up staying up late into the night, Sonic zipping in and out of the house to grab more and more things, including seemingly every guitar he owned for an impromptu lesson. Knuckles almost snapped the neck of one trying to copy Sonic's hand placement and immediately tapped out after, the rest of the group following suit when they were done, and it ended up turning into Sonic playing whatever came to mind and the rest of them singing along around the campfire. Amy had brought her fortune cards and read their fortunes, teasing Knuckles mercilessly when his apparently claimed he had a crush that he neither confirmed or denied, but the fact his muzzle turned almost as red as the rest of him told them everything. Tails pulled out blankets and sleeping bags, tossing one over his brother's head and laughing when the hedgehog started chasing him with it primed and ready to snatch him up.

They ended up using the bags to make a giant mat on the ground, and Shadow marveled at how bright the sky was here, the stars varied in brightness and the band of their galaxy stretching across the night sky. However, his eyes still found their way to the ARK, easily finding those two brilliant stars near it. He tuned out the group's chatter, feeling sleep begin to lap at his consciousness in waves, eventually dragging him to one of the most peaceful sleeps he'd had in years.

That night, Shadow dreamed of looking up at the night sky in the flower field with his family.

[pocket-watcher]

I saw you were doing requests and I was thinking of a scenario with covert hypnosis but the reader catches on quickly and does their best to resist/escape. I want to fight for my will against the inevitable. If not tho that's cool :)

Hi anon! Here’s something just for all you who love a good struggle…

“Excuse me, do you have a moment?”

The crowded sidewalk didn’t leave much room for you to figure out who had called out, until someone approached you with a clipboard.

You registered they were petitioning or raising money or something and your social anxiety took over.

“Sorry, I’m in a rush.” You said, avoiding eye contact.

“This will only take a second.” They added, as they always do, but you faltered as you noticed no one had signed whatever sheet they had.

And it was three on a Saturday. The heat bore down from the afternoon sun.

Pity.

So, reluctantly, you turned to them, nodding for them to continue.

A surprised smile was on their face.

“R-right. I’m going to read you a passage of a book, and by the end of it could you answer some questions?”

“Okay.”

“Great!” They flipped over their paper and began reading in a much lower tone than they’d previously been speaking in.

“The cave was dark. Deep. Never-ending. She stared and stared but could never find the bottom, no matter how far she looked. But that wouldn’t stop her. She wanted to. Needed to look deeper…”

The slow, winding tone of their voice clued you in. How the voices began to fade away from the busy street around you.

You shook yourself.

Ah.

So that was the game, hmm?

You fiddled with your nails to show your disinterest. How unfazed you were.

Ignoring the growing warmth within you.

They continued.

“She unknowingly was walking into a nest. A creature was watching, waiting. Calling to its prey. She felt compelled to continue. Walking in an almost dream.”

“Are you done yet?” You said, batting your eyelids innocently. They felt heavier, but nothing to worry about.

They licked their teeth and put on a false smile.

“I guess you really are in a hurry, aren’t you? Don’t worry. It’ll be over soon…”

They found their place on the page once more.

“How long had the creature been trapped in that cage with no one to gaze upon its mesmerising features? 10 years? No, 9. 8? 7…” they paused, looking up at you.

Feeling slightly fuzzy from the counting, you picked this moment to start walking away.

Better luck next time.

“H-hey! Wait up!”

Your movements were clumsier than usual, but freedom was just a few steps away if you could lose them…

They followed you through the weaving crowd, still reading to you.

“She was helpless. Walking in circles. Resistance was futile. Her feet felt like lead. The floor of the cave grew muddy. Sticky. Weighing her movements down. She was slowing. Her mind. Her thoughts, slowing.”

You ignored them, pushing through, mumbling half apologies to those you moved past.

They felt faster than you. Lighter than you.

Get out of my head, you thought.

“That’s it, the creature cooed to her. Stay with me. Go on. Give up your fight and stay here forever. Listen to my words. Let them seep into your mind.”

You half faltered, turning and seeing them smile at you.

“N-no. No she didn’t. She made it out of the cave…” you said looking deep into their eyes.

You couldn’t see the sun. You were no longer outside. You were in the deepest, darkest, cave.

The creature stared back from the darkness and spoke.

“Perhaps. But, even if she did, would she ever really stop thinking about what she could’ve had with the creature…?”

You dropped.

[becauseimswagman1]

Tama freader smut??

Tama Tonga x reader (pt. 1)

A/N: Hehehe first wwe request!! and ask to be on the tag list because this will be in two parts. No smut in this part, I got too invested in the plot.

Warnings: Shit talking.

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

Being new to the Smackdown roster wasn’t that big of a change since you’ve been on it before… as a manager for some D-list mid-wrestler who’s no longer on the company. 

When that dipshit left, you were unsure of your future with the company. The former CEO of WWE had assured you that you’d issued another superstar to manage, but that’s not what you wanted. You wanted to wrestle, but he never thought you had the “right image” (whatever that is). 

Before you could plead your case, he was booted from the company and Triple H took over. 

Once he took over, he had visions for everybody, including you. He had a meeting with you and asked if you wanted to wrestle full-time. He was the reason the former CEO signed you, but his power didn’t go beyond that. Since you never stopped training, he suggested that you go to NXT to rebrand and create a new name for yourself. To be known as more than a manager. You never signed a contract faster! Wrestling is your passion!

For three years, you worked your ass off in NXT, then got called back up to the main roster. It felt good to be back. You were ready to face anyone. Although, for six months the boss man had you facing mid-card wrestlers and you were winning. A couple of losses here and there, but winning nonetheless. 

You loved it, sure, but you wanted more. You wanted a title shot! So, you scheduled a meeting. 

It went great for the most part. You didn’t have a title shot, but something interesting happened. You are being added to the Bloodline… Solo’s Bloodline. Personally, your Tribal Chief is Roman Reigns, but a job is a job. Bossman said the fans would “eat you up” being a voice of reason and shit-talking them at the same time. He thinks you’ll be a great fit. 

—----------------------------------------------

Going up to the three intimidating men was kind of nerve-wracking, You say three cause you already know Solo from NXT and he was actually a chill guy. People just got under his skin easily.

You walk into the gym they worked out at, lowkey looking a little lost. Tanga Loa approached you first, curious about who you are, “Wassup, are you the new edition to the Bloodline?”

“Yeah, I’m- “ 

“We know who you are. Solo talked you up big.” Tama Tonga walked up, interrupting you, “Personally, I don’t get it, but we’ll see how you do.”

“Tama, don’t be so rude,” Solo said, joining Tama and Tanga.

You smirked and shook your head, “Nah. it’s cool. I know to earn my place here and… “ you turned to Tama, “I know I’ll put you on your ass real easy so don’t be so quick to talk all that shit.”

Solo full belly laughed, “Glad you haven’t lost that attitude. You’ll fit right in.”

You adjusted your gym bag on your shoulder, “So, uh, where’s Jacob?”

“Handling business.” and he left it at that. You knew not to ask questions about that stuff. 

“Follow me,” Solo walked to the mats in the gym, “We’re gonna run a few drills to see if you can keep up with us.”

—-------------------------------------

Three hours later, you were exhausted, but you were not letting Tama know that. 

You two started a little competition. You were whooping his ass and he was VERY pissed about it. 

“Come on Tama~ don’t be sad you getting that ass beat by a girl!” 

Tama stomped around, he didn’t like that you were talking shit. You had a counter for almost every last one of his moves. He rarely got the drop on you. But when he finally did, boyyyyy did he live it up!

“Hahahaha! That’s what you get tryna play with the big dogs! Just stick to being a manager and stop tryna hang with the professionals.”

The professionals? Okay.

You got back up from the mat, “Okay, let’s have a real match then.”

Tama just stared at you… with lust?

“Yeah. A real fucking match then we’ll really see who the big dog is.”

Tama and Tanga looked to Solo, eager for a response. 

He shrugged, “Tanga, you’ll be the ref. Let’s get it.”

—-----------------------------------

After a shit ton of cheap shots on Tama’s side, you won. And of course, Tanga and Solo overlooked those, but you beat him. 

Solo chuckled, “You gotta hand it to her Tama, she handled yo ass. Give her the props she rightfully earned.”

You held your hand out to him to shake, but he smacked it away, then rolled his eyes, “I ain’t giving her shit.”

“Don’t be like that Tama. I just wanted some friendly competition and that’s what I got.”

The big baby just walked, more like stormed, all the way out of the gym. 

“Did I hurt his feelings?” you asked Solo.

He shook his head, “Nah, he just a little shocked somebody bested him. He’ll get over it soon.” then he walked over to you and held his hand out for you to shake, “Welcome to the Bloodline.”

You shook his hand, “Thank you.”

“No, thank you. You’ll certainly be the wildcard next to Jacob.”

You dropped his hand and grabbed your water bottle, “I appreciate that, seriously.”

“Take a break while Tanga and I go check on him.”

“You got it, Solo.”

He raised his eyebrow at you. Oh… “My bad. You got it, Tribal Chief.”

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

(Part 2 here)

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