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awearywritersworld · 1 year ago

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do not leave me in this abyss, where i cannot find you

sukuna x reader summary: the higher ups succeed in kidnapping you and sukuna doesn't know if he'll get you back alive. w/c: 2.85k tags/warnings: fluff and angst. reader is kidnapped and gravely injured. depictions of blood. canon typical violence. "good girl". cursing. ft gojo. aged up!yuuji. fem!reader. not canon compliant. no use of y/n. *please mind the warnings for this chapter* a/n: and finally folks, we've reached the climax of the series. there will only be one more official chapter after this one, so i hope this lives up to expectations. this could maybe be read as a stand alone, but it's certainly better when serving as a culmination to the other chapters. i'm a little nervous posting this, so i'd love to hear your thoughts :) series masterlist // masterlist

brontë

sukuna isn't sure at first why the name is familiar, but he soon realizes that a great many of the books on your shelf are authored by women of that name, including jane eyre.

though he finds your copy of wuthering heights, written by an emily brontë, tucked away in the drawer of your nightstand, the headphones you'd asked him grab lying on top of it.

he pulls the book from its spot with care, as the cover is worn and frayed at the edges. flipping through the pages, there are quite a few quotes underlined and countless scribbles in the margins.

while you'd forced him to read jane eyre, he tucks wuthering heights under his arm of his own volition. he isn't sure if it's because you've kept this one separate from the others, or because it might give him an opportunity to know you better, or because he's positive it will make you happy, but he does it all the same.

when he steps back into the living room, he drops your headphones in your lap and takes the seat beside you, wasting no time in beginning the first chapter.

"what've you got there?" you eventually question, even though you know the answer.

he doesn't spare you a glance when he responds, "a book."

"oh, yeah? what kind of book?"

he elects to ignore you, which only serves to encourage your mischievous tone. "i thought romance novels were beneath you and your refined taste."

finally looking at you, he narrows his eyes at your childish taunt. "do you want me to read it or not?"

"of course—"

"then i suggest you be a good girl and behave yourself."

your mouth snaps shut so abruptly that your teeth click as they meet, something sukuna takes note of with a raised brow. you're thankful when he returns to reading rather than saying anything more.

so without any additional interruptions, he delves into the tragic story of heathcliff and catherine. or more precisely, the pain and destruction that follows it.

the further he reads, the better he discerns that while you seem to have a penchant for the brontë sisters, they seem to have a penchant for writing about men that are wicked and callous.

the very notion makes him chuckle.

maybe it explains why he's sitting here with your feet in his lap, while you try and fail (rather cutely) to stifle your giggles at some stupid youtube video.

"what?" you ask, taking out one of your headphones once you notice he's staring at you with a small smile.

"nothing. just enjoying the story."

the way you beam in response makes his mouth go dry.

"hah! i knew it! you're a romantic at heart."

you make a big show of pressing your hands to your chest and swooning.

"settle down there," he chides, his hand patting your thigh. "you're getting ahead of yourself."

two days later, sukuna feels that something isn't quite right. it's barely perceptible, nothing more than a minute shift in the atmosphere, but it grows more palpable as time stretches on.

yuuji's mission takes him farther from home than usual, to a little town about two hours outside of the city.

the curse he exorcises upon his arrival is much weaker than he's grown accustomed to, probably only a third or fourth grade.

yuuji doesn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary, or at least, he pretends not to. sukuna thinks that's the problem with optimists— they don't take action quickly enough, too busy wasting their time hoping for the best.

when he returns home late that afternoon only to find your apartment door slightly ajar, his hand hesitates before pushing it open.

he discovers that the living room is littered with residuals, but it's eerie how nothing else is out of place... save for you, who is no where to be found.

in a disbelieving panic, he begins checking all the rooms, not hearing sukuna's frantic voice even though it's coming from inside his own head. "she's not here... idiot, she's not here. we have to go. we have to go now."

he eventually finds a note lying on the coffee table, but even this he hardly processes— something about surrendering himself and sukuna to the higher ups at headquarters in exchange for your life.

"listen to me, brat... you're wasting time... idiot!"

"what?" he barks abruptly.

"she isn't far, a couple blocks to the east at most—"

"it doesn't matter. headquarters is to the west. that's where we need to go."

"have you failed to comprehend a single thing i've said about the higher ups?" sukuna sneers. "they'll kill us, then kill her too. she knows too much about jujutsu society. they won't let her live, and that's if she's not... if she isn't already..."

he can't get the word out.

"no... no, they wouldn't..."

"now is not the time for your blind faith in the integrity of others." sukuna tries again and again to assume control of his vessel, and while the force behind it makes yuuji's head pound, it's no use. "for fuck's sake— please, yuuji!"

it's the first time he's heard the curse occupying his body say his actual name or use the word please, and in a strange way, it seems to ground him to some degree.

itadori yuuji has always been uncannily fast, but as soon as he makes his way out onto the street, it's like his feet aren't even touching the pavement. he appears as a blur to the people he passes by and it happens so briefly that they more than likely disregard it as a trick of the light.

the ruby decorating your neck leads them right to you, a low hum of frequency that only sukuna can hear.

yuuji comes to a stop in front of an old warehouse building. there are several wooden boards nailed across the main entrance, which splinter and fall to the earth under the impact of his impatient fist.

although the people down the hall quiet themselves upon hearing the crash, he can still sense their energy. he just can't seem to pick up on yours.

maybe sukuna is wrong? maybe you're not here after all.

"no," comes sukuna's voice, cold and hard. "she's here."

he makes his way down the stretch of hallway and to an open door where he stops, both of his feet planting firmly on the ground. everything appears to be frozen as he stares at ten sorcerers who quietly stare back.

it's clear they were not expecting yuuji, but he knows the higher ups assigned so many sorcerers just in case he did somehow figure out where they brought you.

he recognizes many of their faces and even knows some of their names, their familiarity no doubt intended to discourage him from engaging them.

after a few moments, yuuji's eyes land on your figure— motionless on the floor.

he has to admit, the higher up have put together a fairly sound plan. it's just that there's one small detail they failed to account for.

a curious and constraining sensation erupts from the center of his chest, and yuuji doesn't quite understand what's happening until he registers he's no longer the one in control of his body.

the king of curses remains completely still as he studies you from afar with a slight tilt of his head, his mind refusing to believe the scene right before his eyes.

when the gravity of the situation finally settles in, a gut churning agony blossoms in his stomach and bleeds into every part of his body. every bone. every pore. every vein.

the entirety of him burns, both inside and out.

the air in the room is heavy, overburdened with hostility and raw power. it makes the sorcerers' knees buckle and they nearly collapse beneath the immense pressure.

as sukuna takes a step toward the nearest person, the edges of his vision turn white.

he moves with deadly precision, at a speed which very few people on earth could even begin to comprehend.

it's a joke how quickly it's all over.

some of them are in pieces. others have exploded into nothingness. a few are burnt to ash.

in his haste, sukuna nearly misses the final sorcerer. he's probably the youngest of them all, cowering in the corner of the room. his eyes are wide with horror and his body shakes with fear.

"p-please, spare m-me. i didn't touch her," he sputters out.

the laugh that follows is utterly humorless. "do you actually believe that makes a difference to me?"

"i told t-them not to hurt her! i swear. that's how i got this." he points to his bottom lip, busted open and swollen. "she even told me she was sorry that i got hurt... that i didn't have to defend her."

this gives sukuna pause and his jaw clenches as he considers what you would tell him right now were you conscious.

so even as every fiber of his being screams at him to end the sorcerer's miserable, pathetic life... he restrains himself and pins him to the wall instead, pressing a forearm to his throat.

"go back to the higher ups. go and tell them that if anyone lays a hand on her ever again, i will ruin them," he spits, venom lacing each word. "i'll slaughter every last one of them. i'll level their homes. i'll take everything from them. tell them this is a promise they shouldn't take lightly."

when sukuna takes a step back, the young sorcerer crumbles to the ground. "i- i- i will."

"then get out of my sight," he growls.

returning his attention to you, his demeanor shifts in every respect.

you're going to be okay. you're going to wake up. he's going to take you home and it will be like none of this ever happened.

but when he falls to your side, his knees meeting the ground so brutally that it cracks beneath his weight, his conviction falters.

your blood is spilt onto the concrete. your skin is cold. he can't tell if you're breathing. he can't feel your heartbeat.

he determines that the gash across your side deserves his attention first and his hands tremble as they move to cover it.

he puts every ounce of power he has into his reverse cursed technique, but your eyes don't flutter and your chest doesn't rise nor fall.

his palms stain crimson, and while blood has never bothered him before, the fact that it's yours forces the bile to rise from his stomach and into his throat.

and his face is wet.

why is his face wet?

why are his lips trembling?

why is his vision blurred?

he wipes at his cheeks, leaving a trail of your blood across his face in the process.

"no," he chokes out. "please, don't do this. you're fine. please, you have to be fine. please."

the king of curses begs, but he has no idea who his desperation is directed toward. maybe it's you. maybe it's the gods. maybe it's some entity that's unknowable to him.

hell, maybe it's just whoever will listen to him. there has to be someone out there, right? something.

unbeknownst to him, and poetic in sorrowful sort of a way, his next pleas are reminiscent of heathcliff's after he learns of catherine's death.

"be with me always"

"stay with me, angel. please don't go."

"take any form"

"hate me for this if you want, for being the reason you're in this mess. you can't hate me anymore than i already hate myself."

"drive me mad"

"i'll read every single stupid romance novel on your bookshelf. i promise i'll play all of your ridiculous card games."

"only do not leave me in this abyss, where i cannot find you!"

"just don't leave me here without you. i don't want to be here without you.

"oh, god! it is unutterable!"

"please," he whimpers.

"i cannot live without my life!"

"you're everything. you are everything. you can't leave me with nothing."

"i cannot live without my soul!"

"i love you," sukuna laments. "i love you."

he doesn't even comprehend the words that have been tumbling past his lips, because they're coming from a part of himself that he long believed to be dead and buried.

it's the part of him that can feel suffering and regret and loss and love.

it's the part of him that you've been painstakingly unearthing whenever you send a smile his way. whenever you curl into his side. whenever you press your lips to his.

and he's so undeserving of it each and every time. he's known that. god, has he known that.

he thinks bitterly of the night you'd walked to the park together hand in hand— when you told him the universe had sent you to knock him down a peg.

turns out you were wrong.

the universe gave you to him, but only so it could take you away too.

and it won't just knock him down a peg. it will fucking destroy him. it will completely and irrevocably destroy him.

this is what he does deserve.

how is it that you can be both his salvation and his undoing?

"i love you," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper.

it's ironic that the three words he's never once said in his entire life are the only ones he can manage in this moment.

he hears a quiet sigh escape your lips, but he knows that it's just his imagination— nothing more than the universe playing its final sick joke.

the sun is out and its rays are peeking through the window of your bedroom. sukuna thinks it's despicable.

everything should be cold and dark today.

you're lying in bed half dead and the only thing keeping sukuna's sanity intact is the shallow rise and fall of your chest.

he should go to jujutsu headquarters and deliver a slow, painful death to every single person involved in yesterday's events. then he should turn their headquarters to ash and stand there watching until the wind blows every last bit away.

but more than that, he should be by your side, so that's where he's remained.

it's been nearly a day and you still haven't woken up, so he's taken to performing reverse cursed technique on you every few hours.

yuuji had shoko come by last night and she assured him your body just needs time, but sukuna doesn't intend on taking any chances. aside from the brat, there isn't a single sorcerer he trusts.

so naturally when gojo teleports directly in the middle of your living room unannounced, sukuna moves swiftly to his feet and blocks the doorway to your room.

gojo regards him nonchalantly, hiding his surprise that yuuji is not the one to greet him. "what are you doing... out and about?"

"that's none of your concern."

"right. well, i came to check in."

"that's not necessary."

the two men watch one another carefully, before gojo eventually chuckles. "god, you actually care about her. i guess the whole soul thing should have been proof enough, but i couldn't bring myself to really believe it until now."

sukuna doesn't respond, so the other man continues. "you should know that the threat to her has been... dealt with."

"that so?" sukuna asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

"mhmmm. word of this spread to the three clans and they agreed civilians have no place in jujutsu politics if it can be helped. not to mention your little... messenger. it all caused quite the ruckus for the higher ups."

"i don't think ruckus is enough to deter them." his tone makes it clear that he feels gojo is wasting his time.

"this isn't the heian era anymore, you know. the higher ups may still be the figureheads of jujutsu society, but they have little say when all three clans concur on a matter." receiving nothing more than a blank stare, he adds, "besides, i'm rather fond of her myself, so i may or may not have made certain threats of my own."

sukuna's eye twitches. "anything else you feel compelled to share before you leave?"

"can i at least see her before i go?" gojo questions, peering over sukuna's shoulder.

"if you do not value your life, i welcome you to try."

a sly grin breaks out on gojo's face.

"eager to make good on your promise of killing me from all those years ago?" he pauses, his hand coming to rest on his chin as if he's pondering something of great importance. "as much as i'd love to see you try, we shouldn't wake our precious sleeping beauty before she's ready, so maybe another time."

with that, he disappears, leaving a very irritated sukuna in his wake.

"our," he repeats under his breath, shaking his head. "that unbearable imbecile."

when he turns on his heel, however, the malicious look is immediately wiped from his face because you're awake.

you're awake and peering at him from behind heavy lids.

"hey," you greet in a small voice.

his eyes grow impossibly soft and he sits on the bed beside you, his hand moving to caress your cheek. your skin is warm again.

"hey, angel."

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throwaway-yandere · 1 year ago

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His Version Of You [Yan!Kaveh & Yan!Veritas Ratio/Reader]

a/n: tis another solid “twas a crack idea but I made it too serious” fic. kavetham rivalry is overrated af, KaTio is the way to go /j. when you finish it, can you answer the poll at the bottom on who you would pick between these two? bless you.

unreliable synopsis: When one grieves, sometimes it is best not to be reminded of who you're grieving for. Especially not by fighting over a recreation of their heart and soul. [based on @2broschlininahotub & @meimeimeirin's request]

content warnings/tags: [light yandere vs yandere]/[implied poly!yandere/reader] fic, geniuses who can't take a W, au shenanigans, the girlies love to bicker it’s their love native language

"What were you thinking, you idiot?! Thank my reflexes that I caught the statue beforehand or else I would have to explain what a monumental mistake that is. Just use your common sense for once, will you?!"

"Please— I don't want to hear that from YOU of all people! This is MY stone. Stop acting like you actually care. You took us away from my world! You're the one who's too obsessed with researching it! It's like a damn test subject and not a companion to you!"

"That's because it is, you fucking oaf!"

"YOU'RE THE ONE GIVING ME FALSE HOPE THAT IT'S A LIVING BEING!!!"

Veritas stood with his arms crossed, eyebrows scrunched and his frown the deepest Kaveh had ever seen. The architect, absolutely baffled at his experiment partner's harsh evaluation, felt his eyes dampening. His bumping of the sculpture was pure accident, but Veritas' sharp tongue cut deep into Kaveh's pride. Even the most understanding of men would find his tone abrasive.

Getting riled up…Over a damn statue.

"Just because it's alive, doesn't mean it's a companion. And just because it is a test subject, doesn't mean you can just near-topple it as you damn please."

The arguments subsided. They exchanged long looks as they tried to figure out how the "little dispute" had come dangerously close to abusive. With his anger gradually fading, Kaveh was the one to take the first initiative. Kaveh steeled himself. The architect's shoulders dropped, and his expression softened. Jaded.

"Veritas... I'm sorry. As much as this statue… means… to me, I shouldn't have yelled at you. I-I was just upset, you're aware that I've been working all afternoon polishing the statue and I took that anger out on you. I'm sorry." Kaveh said.

"Right." Veritas closed his eyes. "Apology accepted. I understand that you're visibly distressed, but I will not tolerate low-quality work."

As Kaveh was about to get defensive, Veritas placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Which is to say, take a rest, Kaveh. Work when you can guarantee peak performance." Veritas sighed. "Rest. Pompom has already prepared your bed for you."

Kaveh cast his gaze down on the floor, wearing a feeble smile. Though their list of grievances from the past days was enough to fill two pages, Veritas is steeped in cunning. He knew exactly how to plaster Kaveh's impulse.

"Right… I'm just tired."

"Precisely. The faster the progress, the greater the chance of errors." Veritas smiled back, although looking less sincere as Kaveh's. "Take a rest, Kaveh."

With a murmur, Kaveh got up and dusted off his pants from the metamorphic rock that had been sandpapered. People aren't made to stay cooped up inside all the time. He took one last look at the project before heading out for the night, noting that while the foundation was in place, work still needed to be done before they could decide on the final look. If he could just make the hands softer-looking…

"Kaveh…" Veritas chimed, warning with his arms crossed.

"Right, right!" Kaveh laughed nervously, still slightly vexed by the reproach. "Maybe I'm getting too brave at night, I don't know why I'm boldly thinking of trying my hand at smoothening the statue again."

"I'd consider you more weak-hearted than stouthearted," Veritas dusted Kaveh's shoulders off. "And do try to keep yourself clean."

"I'm too tired to run a shower…"

Veritas sighed loudly.

The both of them had decided to leave the studio with a degree of finality. Hunched over, the kidnapped architect left to take his well-deserved slumber while the doctor decided that a warm bath would benefit him more. The night "concludes", or so Kaveh thought.

Looking back, these two are the most unlikely friends to exist, are they not? A professor slash doctor of the Intelligentsia Guild and the architect "Light of the Kshahwerar" collaborating over a glorified arts and crafts project. To truly understand this bizarreness, it is wise to look back to its beginning.

In his quest to rid the galaxy of a disease he dubbed "ignorance", Dr. Veritas Ratio sallied forth to practice his preachings. Even joined the Astral Express at some point, but it was only in this instance did he found companionship with an extremely empathetic individual.

And their first meeting was not a decent starting point.

Veritas set out on his umpteenth assignment handed out by the Express. He was sent to explore the dangerous land formations of Sumeru with the trailblazer. Every extended curve revealed pyramids and sand, and Veritas kept Stelle close by using her straps as a leash. Nevertheless, when they accidentally entered an unstable domain, his disgruntled complaints ceased. Deciding it would be best for only one to investigate further, Veritas volunteered.

There was just one discernible light path inside the mostly collapsing structure. Yet, every step he took was curiously inaudible, and when he reached the Apex, he met the sight of blonde hair.

Enter: Kaveh.

"You get what I mean right? It feels like my problems just keep piling up and up, like an impossible mountain. There's never anyone who would listen to me complain, but you…" The words that fell from the stranger's lips were sweeter than honey as he waxed poetic. "You're always here to listen. And it makes me feel so much less alone. Thank you…"

The blonde man had his cheek against a large rectangular rock, caressing it appreciatingly. His eyelids were lowered and his cheeks were puffy. Whether he cried beforehand or was merely exhausted cannot be assessed from Veritas' distance from him.

February 5, ████.

Kaveh had recently lost his lover that day. They died due to an unforeseen heart attack, which pains him more since his darling had always been healthy. Since his "delam" has passed away, he has been inconsolable. He refused to part with any possessions they left. No matter how many of their fellow archeologists begged for (Y/n)'s notes, he barked with gritted teeth that his mind would not change.

… How ironic that he used to call his lover "my heart" when the very same organ was the cause of death.

Neither wine nor friends can get a reaction out of him. The best he could do to continue living was to focus on his work and his young mentees. (Y/n) always wanted to be a teacher but couldn't because of their daytime job, so Kaveh fulfilled their dreams instead.

That includes continuing their research on the strange rock they had found in the desert.

Kaveh remained hotly bent on preserving everything they loved. Despite its unconventional and jagged appearance, the rock struck him as the most beautiful thing he had seen in a long while. Its lack of clear patterns didn't matter; it stood tall, capturing his fascination. It had ended his slump and had become an integral part of him. This hyperfixation had not gone unnoticed by Lesser Lord Kusanali, but when she visited him, she… strangely endorsed of his newfound lunacy. She knew something he did not.

Something about the rock… felt so similar to his deceased "delam".

The doctor, lacking any context for the sight before him, raised an eyebrow. His duty may be to educate others, but this was beyond help. A pell-mell of incoherent ramblings filled the room with the hither and thither of blonde hair to match. But this was the first person he encountered in Teyvat. And he was determined to get any info out of him.

"Excuse me."

The blonde man blinked repeatedly, eyes going wide at the sight of Veritas approaching.

"I'm Dr. Veri—"

"T-This isn't what it looks like!!!" The blonde freaked out. "This is– It's just! This rock, it has sentimental value and–"

"…" Veritas drawled. "Riiiight. I'm… Dr. Veritas Ratio. I'm not of this world— I believe my companions and I are what you refer to as Descenders. We wish to collect petrology info for databank purposes. May you offer assistance?"

Kaveh did not know what to say. But by instincts, he knew something was not entirely right with this man.

He'd be right. Veritas wasn't there specifically for rocks. He's just, crudely put, nosy.

"And I am supposed to blindly believe any stranger who wears such a strange getup?" Kaveh stood up and protectively hid the rock behind him. "Sorry, I kindly refuse. And I am not equipped to help either."

Veritas smirked and cracked some knuckles with his left thumb.

There was a damn good reason why Stelle was left behind. On the entrance of the gate laid an inscription that roughly translates to the words "adepti" and "tribute". His intellect in this linguistics may be rusty, but it is not incorrect.

He had an inkling that the rock this peculiar blonde was obsessing over was imbued with a sliver of ambuscade soul who took arms against the worst opponents imaginable.

A "yaksha", if you were a Liyue local.

Veritas was by no means unmindful of Kaveh's obsession. He held his tongue, assessing that to set a quarrel with an unpredictable variable would prolong his journey. There was no profit to be had in angering an unreadable man.

"Well then, if I can't take that rock within reason…"

Dr. Ratio opened his book.

…

"… Long story short, that's why this chick is all wrapped up like a present."

Through brute force, both Stelle and Veritas managed to drop both Kaveh and the rock inside the Express, to the surprise of many. They were initially sent to only survey Teyvat (which meant Veritas positively lied to Kaveh earlier). No one expected an angry Sumeru man to "visit."

"I-I am not a chick! I am a man! I'm Kaveh— an architect!!!" The self-proclaimed man wriggled around the trailblazer's yellow ropes, looking pale as he stared at the unfamiliar faces and scenery before him. "H-Hey!!! Unhand me at once!!!"

"Oh, you're not a girl? You're pretty, though."

"I should've known you would bring something peculiar on board, Dr. Ratio, I just didn't expect it to be a weird human-sized rock..." Said the red-haired lady. "But anyways, you, Sir Kaveh, have quite a remarkable sense of fashion."

"I haven't seen any guy wear earrings that big before…" The grey-haired girl said with grabby hands.

"Please don't try to yank it off him," the brown-haired man sighed and pulled her back with his cane.

Kaveh was a little taken aback by the diversity of tongues in front of him. It was clear based on their accents that they didn't quite come from the same world, yet they communicate as near-family.

"Do all Teyvat people have rocks for friends or is it just you?" A strawberry-haired young lady asked as she approached the rock, which set Kaveh in an even more panicked frenzy when she attempted to poke it.

"N-NO!!! DON'T!!!"

March flinched at his sudden scream and nearly fell had Stelle not caught her.

"Yeah, March, be respectful, you never know if that's the love of his life or something like that," said Stelle.

Kaveh's eyes widened. "You… How did you just understand me better than my friends…?"

The room went quiet. Dan Heng glanced at Veritas, who pretended not to notice him. Mentioning romance near him had always been a dangerous move. Veritas' face crumpled slightly.

There were scars in his own heart he had yet to patch up, and he needed no reminder that he was procrastinating.

Dan Heng cleared his throat.

"It's bad news to have Stelle be the only one who "gets you" if you consider yourself of sane mind." Dan Heng spoke. "But then again, you remind me of Argenti…"

"Where did you find this man, Doctor?" Welt digressed, concerned as he towered above the tied Kaveh. The older man doesn't have objections to his (kidnapped) presence. He can tell by the look on both Kaveh and Veritas' faces that neither was a man with no substance, and the latter saw to exploit the former.

Veritas only shrugged and jabbed his thumb in Stelle's general direction. "Assistant…"

"On it." Stelle saluted solemnly. "We found him in a pyramid. The doctor thought he would be a worthy individual to study if we wish to understand the culture behind one of the seven nations. Since Mister Yang told us to befriend important people–"

"Since when was kidnapping synonymous with befriending?"

"–this is Ratio's candidate."

"That is correct, and he's not just any other person. I have seen him in the Guild's Persons of Interest. He is Kaveh, the light of the Kshahrewar," Veritas claimed. "A certified scholar of the Akademiya and the face for the Darshan he was an alumnus of."

The Express quietly signaled shock over Ratio's interest in the man.

Kaveh slunk back, defeated. When there's little progress, a man naturally turns restive. Kaveh no longer had much to fear in his life. The worst had already come to pass, and the world became mere static noise. He had no hope of escaping soon, not when he saw his homeworld's true "sky". Or at least, back then, he thought it was one. The world he knew was a mere tapestry of ████…

…

"Not that there aren't enough rooms in the Express, but why bring him and the rock here?" Himeko paused to take a sip of her piping hot coffee. "Isn't it a bit, I don't know, overkill?"

"It's because that pyramid is no place to cultivate a living species, and there's no better–... lab assistant... than this man before us." Dr. Ratio looked at the man on the floor.

Dan Heng tried not to comment on how sad his tone was when Veritas referred to Kaveh as a "lab assistant". He knew what had happened to Ratio, but it was not the right time or place.

"What do you mean by living?" Himeko asked.

"That rock has adeptal power within it that we can awaken. That is, if he'd help us make his little rock come to life."

With his words, he moved the unweariable Kaveh to act complacent.

Kaveh felt as though the floor caved beneath him. An unholy mixture of disbelief, awe, and joy swirled within his already jetlagged mind. The fact of the matter was, despite being incredibly unstable, he was lucid enough to know that a miracle was possible.

"What…?"

"It's been a month since that whole debacle," Veritas muttered to himself as he flicked the wrist that held his book away from the bathtub's bubbly waters. "I suppose I was harsh to the poor man. But is that treatment not at all deserved?"

Over time, Veritas grew to like Kaveh, especially after knowing he was tutoring young aspiring architects free of charge. Still, Kaveh's strangely compliant behavior does not deviate from his first impression. His empty eyes were enough sign that Kaveh lived through emotionally draining struggles and came out with few real friends. He lost his raison d'etre, that's why he willingly threw his life in Teyvat away.

… In Kaveh's words, he only wished for a "vacation". If his prize was to go elsewhither with a satisfying result, then he's not opposed to (getting kidnapped) a new "collaboration".

The doctor can't say no to it either.

Deep down, prodigy genius Veritas couldn't deny the harsh truth: witnessing that pitiful man finding solace in an inanimate object was a stark reminder that he harbored the same "illness".

Hence, Veritas offered consistent "insults" to the brightest of Kshashrewar, and each time, Kaveh took the opportunity to improve. Veritas considered it a necessary evil. But even after surpassing those challenges, Kaveh was helpless to overcome the deep emptiness that persisted in his soul.

Kaveh never really spoke about who his previous lover was. All everyone knew was that he lovingly called them "delam"– his heart. They didn't want to bring him more pain by even asking a simple question like delam's real name.

A huge mistake later on.

"... Tch," Veritas grunted, his eyebrows furrowing sadly. The thought of his last love affairs had soured his mood.

Veritas stood from his bath, drying himself and wrapping a towel on his lower half.

… He likely won't sleep tonight.

Forgetting his agreement to continue the project tomorrow morning, he unlocked the door to the studio room Himeko lent them. He left trails of his wet footsteps. His wavy hair also remained damp, but he could not care much for it. Veritas will dress himself up later. Just a towel will suffice for now.

"Sculpting…"

Veritas laughed to himself as he took some tools off the table.

"Wasn't this your pastime and not mine—" he closed his eyes, muttering the next words with a teasingly melancholic tilt. "Assistant (L/n)?"

His grip on the chisel tightened, painting his knuckles white.

Professor (Y/n) (L/n).

The person responsible for the Council of Mundanites' existence. Their name rarely escapes his lips, treating their memory like a curse. Just exhaling the thought of them out of his system makes him nauseous. As if the air inside him gets knocked out. His eyes would flutter shut, no different from a dying man who held weakly holds on. Veritas hated this anguish. The doctor hated this vicious seemingly never-ending cycle called "grief".

"(Y/n)…" Ratio muttered. "Your face is still etched in my mind. What more do I need to eradicate these… unnecessary burdens?"

He could practically hear them laugh beside him.

Haha, please. You think about me so much that you consider me burdensome? Oh, you dork! If you loved me so much, you should've written a love letter.

"You absolute ignoramus," Veritas laughed softly. "You cannot discredit my efforts, though, can you?"

"My dearest…" He breathed out in pain once more. "My most wonderful partner. The best teaching assistant I ever had. You…"

… Never loved him back.

Dr. Veritas Ratio was no idiot. He despised any form of delusion. Throughout his life, he had been a tyrannical figure who pursued truth and not stagnant idolatry for every "patient". But when an immovable force meets an unstoppable object, would you consider him a tamed emperor?

Professor (L/n) was the first person he met who brazenly called themselves a "mundanite". A true mediocre. And they were beautiful at their very core.

Not free of sin, but free of hubris.

Molded as a genius since birth, the very foundations of (L/n)'s philosophies dismantled Ratio. (L/n) admired geniuses like Herta, but never romanticized the notion of natural-born wits. They always strived to eradicate their own "ignorance". But even when they are more knowledgeable than they let on, (L/n) never boasts. This behavior provides no benefit in an academically competitive field. Nothing confused the irrefutable prodigy like their longtime academic partner.

Geniuses— Masters— when I achieve great things, I don't want to have silly titles before my name. It's so… rigid, don't you think so, Veritas?

I wouldn't know.

Ha! Of course, you wouldn't. You've lived your entire life as one. But level with me for a second. Wouldn't life be less boring if…

He raised the chisel.

… we never stopped considering ourselves as mere beginners? Isn't there more joy to being a mundane with untapped potential than a stiff jack of all trades? C'mon, Veritas. Doesn't the idea that there's always more to explore make this vast world seem less dull?

Veritas bit his lip. Tears were threatening to spill.

February 5, ████.

It was Dr. Veritas Ratio's fault that they died that day. He thought (L/n) was capable of handling an extremely dangerous laboratory mishap. They were not. Despite his assistant's years of experience, every man is an unsuspecting fledgling in the face of death. It does not discriminate between the mediocre and the brightest.

That's absurd, (L/n). What is the point of learning if not for its mastery?

"Assistant… Let me offer this final tribute so that you can finally s-stop… haunting… me."

But they will never stop. Their last long exchange repeated in his head throughout the night. No matter how many times he hammered, the clanging sound did not drown out the voices in his head. The words mocked him, over and over, and over.

I'm sorry Veritas…

Why are you apologizing?

… I'm afraid I just don't see you that way. I'm just an ordinary person, and I doubt I could ever genuinely return the love of someone as brilliant as you. I'm afraid your affection might be akin to caring for a pet, and I can't find it in myself to figure out how to respond in kind.

… That's not true. You cannot simply decline my confession with a lukewarm excuse—

I'm afraid I'm just an ordinary college professor with no PhDs. I will have to reject your love. I'm so sorry.

But why?!

"(Y/n)… The one person I can never grasp…" Veritas muttered as he looked at the finished piece. "Here you are... Created by my own hands..."

Beautiful. Not a single doubt that it was carved in their likeness. The (Y/n) he knew was a professor who loved their teaching job, but wished they were more of an adventurer. Secretly, (Y/n) wanted to be an archeologist, and perhaps that's one of the reasons why Veritas let the mysterious rock formation inside the Express. Maybe if they continued living, they would've liked this gesture.

Ha… As if.

Veritas—

W-What aspect must I improve on? To dismiss me so impatiently— do I lack the charm? I can always learn to suit your tastes. Don't tell such a bold lie. I highly doubt that it is due to my academic performance. There's another man you've wasted your affections on, is there?!

Veritas, please…

Enough! Enough with these lies and tell me! J-Just… Just tell me, (Y/n)!

He's tired. Veritas just wanted to hold them again. He just wanted to "fix" their hair- tucking his golden hairpin to subconsciously teach their associates and students that Professor (L/n) was his. He missed the way he would hide (L/n)'s lab coat just so he could make them wear his as he left for the day. He missed secretly leaving small love confessions on their class grade spreadsheets, add/drop forms, and even their private online journals so he would read messages about how they must've caught a computer virus. He missed teasing them when they hadn't got a clue that he was unserious. He missed hearing (L/n) whine. He missed the way it made him warm.

He missed the warmth.

"Stop..."

He missed you.

"Stop this..."

And he continues to miss his (Y/n) so much.

"Please..."

It's unbearable.

There is no one else.

Yes, there is! I refuse to believe it! It's your recent lab partner, isn't it!? The man everyone has fallen for— you have taken a liking to him more than me, the person who has been with you all this time!!! You… You ungrateful!—

Veritas is so, so tired and more chipped than the rock he had worked on… Unlike the statue, he cannot tangibly pick up the pieces (L/n) that broke him in. There's only a hollow void of what could've been.

Why... Why did they have to reject him? If they hadn't rejected him, he wouldn't have coldly assigned (Y/n) to deal with the containment breach alone. He would've thought it through. He would've realized he was plagued with ignorance. He would've changed so many things that February 5th.

But that's all there was to it. Just "would have"s, not "have done"s.

Ngh–?! Why… did you... slap me…?

Veritas, maybe you should stop and look down and listen to us common-minded folks for once in your life! The simple fact is that you're just so out of reach. How can you love me, when you don't even understand me, Genius Ratio? How can you confess when you don't know what it's like to work for the knowledge you have? How can you love a "mundanite" like me?

… (Y/n)… T-That's simply untrue, and you are aware of that...

It's morning, an appropriate time to head back to his guest room.

When he was certain that he was alone, Veritas finally allowed himself to cry.

"There's no mistake that we both are- were idiots. We both failed to see that I'm a mundanite, just like you."

In contrast to his former roommate, Kaveh is an early riser. Not exactly a morning person, but a man of discipline nonetheless. Perhaps the concluded argument last night made his rise more motivating. He had no qualms with getting out of bed, heading straight to take a shower before drinking coffee with Himeko.

The morning was wordless but calm.

Whatever happened after he reentered the studio, however, was the exact opposite.

"Delam…?" Kaveh knelt with both knees down on the floor, shocked.

"Is that you…? Delam… Delam!!!"

You tilted your head.

Delam. That was the first word you've heard upon your birth or "rebirth", depending on whose narrative was at play. You first rose from your slumber much like an earth's crust would give way to a volcano. Warmth seeped from your chest and then throughout your body, filling you with life and newfound nerves. But no one was around. You had been observing the fading trail of wet footsteps, yet lacked the courage to leave the room.

Veritas was right. The rock does have life. And you have been awakened.

You looked human. You move human.

But you do not sound human.

"Delam! I-I can't believe this!"

For words fail.

「… Who are you?」

After all, since when can statues speak?

With unsteady legs, he attempted to approach your nearly nude figure. The sheet they used to keep out dust was the only cover you had. He pulled you in when he got close enough, and you wanted to squeak when he rested his nose on your shoulder. His breath tickled hot. However, his warm tears helped you to accept the melancholic reality.

"Delam! D-Delam, my sweetheart, my (Y-(Y/n)… A-Ah… Ah…"

Kaveh pulled back only to kiss your forehead. He was warm. You are not. Despite the fabrics he wore, you can feel his heat against your "skin". His heart was beating. Such an organ does not exist inside of you.

"(Y/n), my (Y/n)…" He gasped out between peppered kisses on your neck. "Mine… My heart has returned to me. Can you hear it too? It's beating again… It beats… I never thought I'd hear my heart again since you've been gone…"

His words made little sense to you, but you knew he liked your form. Kaveh's fingers traced around you, loving each inch, whether it was curved flesh or bone-like sharpness— he didn't care for he knew it was his (Y/n) (L/n).

He's so colorful. Reds, yellows, oranges, and even hints of blues and greens. It made you silently conscious about how you were a boring dull gray.

Warm, like the sun.

「… Baobei?」

"My (Y/n)… D-Delam…" Kaveh pressed his forehead against yours, your lips nearly touching.

You wiped his tears away.

Was that your name? (Y/n)…?

"Kaveh, what the hell are you doing?!"

The blonde man momentarily stopped cradling you out of shock.

This new man was all purples, blue, gold, and small taints of cyan and red. The expression he wore made you believe he might be covetous beyond mankind. There's a level of gluttonous greed in his anger that makes even the earth like yourself phased.

「… Who is he…?」

Both of them feel familiar to you, but you do not know why.

"Veritas!" Kaveh's eyes widened. "A miracle just happened— delam— they're—!"

"Put (Y/n) down this instant!!!"

Kaveh blinked.

"What… What did you say?"

"I said put them down, damn it! Who the hell are you, touching them so carelessly like they're yours?!"

Kaveh's eyebrows furrowed.

"How do you know that name?!" Kaveh yelled. "How did you know who (Y/n) is!?"

The doctor was equally confused.

Why would the ignorance-prone Kaveh know the name of his deceased love too?

Veritas has not talked about his old assistant to any breathing being for a long time. Talking felt like admitting that they were gone for good. But in this case, it produces a contrary result.

"Why the fuck wouldn't I?!"

"I don't know— maybe because you're not from Teyvat?!"

"What are you on, you imbecile?! Can you stop defiling them with your filthy hands?!" Veritas scowled and summoned his book. "Hands. Off."

The warning only made Kaveh even more possessive. He gently pushed you behind his back, glaring at him.

"No."

"Kaveh, you pestilence ridden—!!!"

"No, not until you tell me why the hell you know the name of my fiance!"

Veritas' heart sank.

… Fiance?

No… No, no way.

What's happening? How would that make sense?!

(Y/n) is his. Why should you belong to Kaveh?

"Are… are you insane?!" Veritas screamed. "I should've—"

"What?! Threw me off the Express?! I dare you!!!" Kaveh glared. "You knew you couldn't win against me alone, that's why your best bet was to knock me out— and you know it."

"Ngh."

Neither of them realized the greater reason as to why they knew the "same" person. The doctor may have jumped through various universes, but he had not done enough to notice a key factor.

There they were, claiming to love the image behind their animated statue— when they didn't know what it was they cried for.

"Just answer the question: who is (Y/n) to you?" Kaveh grumbled.

Somehow, he was far more frightening when his voice was calm and low.

The usually diplomatic architect materialized his weapon out of thin air.

"Go on. Tell me."

The doctor stiffened. There was no way Veritas was losing this argument.

It's unethical. Wholly unethical to appeal to pathos in this manner. To weave tales for his benefit.

But the end justifies the means.

Veritas flashed you a guilt-ridden expression…

Before he said the biggest lie known only to himself.

"Professor (Y/n) (L/n) is MY dead lover, and I molded the statue based on their appearance last night!" Veritas yanked a fistful of Kaveh's shirt and brought him closer. "So why are you claiming them as YOURS?!"

…

The sound of a cane hitting the floor stopped all hell from possibly breaking loose.

Welt Yang had one foot inside the room and one out the door. He wore a knowing and empathetic look. The others were behind him, looking particularly shaken up.

This screaming match was the worst the two ever had.

"Kaveh, Dr. Ratio, enough." He calmly spoke up. "I think I understand the confusion."

"Allow me to explain…"

"I'm surprised you have no comments on their flower-bespangled clothes, yet…"

"The aesthetic is... tasteful. I like the headdress."

"Of course, you like the crown of laurel…"

"However–"

"Oh Lord Kusanali, here we go…"

Upon Welt's intervention, every piece started to fit together. The explanation was a frustratingly simple but difficult truth. (Y/n) (L/n) was not just one entity in the vast universe— there are inevitable variations.

The two eventually calmed down as they heard both sides. Veritas' (Y/n), who Kaveh later refers to as an "expy" as a placeholder name, was a professor— while Kaveh's "delam" was an archeologist. Almost the same, but not a complete copy-paste.

You, however, they are unsure of. No one knows yet if you do carry (Y/n)'s soul or if you're a mere replica. Veritas is working on the hypothesis that you were an adeptal tool who aided in freeing the vigilant yaksha from a malevolent Sumeru God.

But those bits of info doesn't matter in the end. Why?

Because they both love "you" deeply.

And these intelligent men can "learn" how to share.

"Are you not tired? Perhaps it is time I take over. Only a fool would work when completely drained." Dr. Ratio then added. "Does it not fall in my skilled hands to weave such clothing for them now? Even better than mere fabric, I'm willing to handle clay and mold it around their bo—"

"Considering how many fools can also calculate and perhaps wear an asbestos mask as a quirky character trait, it is surprising that the fool in front of me thinks he can show proficiency over a tedious task." Kaveh raised an eyebrow, seething at the thought of Veritas' unfair perverted touch lingering on your body, again.

"I think you are experiencing what is known as the Dunning-Kruger effect, as Mister Yang calls it." He added.

Veritas scoffed.

They may be revered both as geniuses in their fields, but they're reduced to kindergarten-like rivals when it comes to you. Their first order of business after another truce was to provide your clothes. Fortunately, Stelle's fashion sense was more unisex than anticipated so you borrowed hers in the meantime.

While you sat on the sofa with the bubbly March 7th, the two started planning your wardrobe. Kaveh returned later on the same evening with the most… floral clothes much to Veritas' dismay.

He missed seeing his version of (Y/n) who wore classic academic styles, not— whatever this was.

"It is mere confidence; no other variable is at play. The fool in question is the artisan responsible for the expeditious sculpting of the aforementioned statue within a singular nocturnal interval. A fact that eludes your appreciation, my less-than-appreciative and unskilled interlocutor."

Kaveh momentarily had the face of a man unpracticed in speech. People often forget that he majored in STEM, not HUMSS. Though he had some essay-based minors in his first & second years, he lacked preparation for Veritas' otherworldly vocabulary. Kaveh would whet his greatsword if Veritas said something bluntly deprecating.

Still, he can't deny that it was through Veritas' handiwork that made your hands as soft as Kaveh wanted them to be. And that secretly pisses him off.

You tilted your head.

Somehow, your creators are arguing again.

"Are you threatening to rob me of the joys I have toiled nights for just to sate your shortlived desires, Veritas?" Kaveh rebuked him sternly. "I didn't know you were kind of a brat."

"I am only offering a hand. But it's clear that you are projecting onto me."

「You two–. 」

You tried to cut in, but can't utter a word…

"I'm not projecting! I know that once you prove you can make clothes, you'll kick me out of the Express, that's just the kind of man you are! Manipulative, arrogant—"

"And you're insecure. There is no more loathsome creature than a man who does not acknowledge his own hubris and repeats his mistakes."

「Master Veritas, Master Kaveh—. 」

You loathed to watch them fight for another round of meaningless squabbles. Why weren't you blessed with speech?

"Is that so? Do you seriously subscribe to that belief?"

"Why, of course."

"You should listen to better men than yourself, then."

"Oh c'mon, knock it off!!!" March cut in, giving them both a light smack with Veritas' book. "Can't you get along better? Your little darling looks upset!!!"

The two halted. She was right, you weren't comfortable. Veritas cleared his throat awkwardly while Kaveh looked down, both apologetic.

"See, Kaveh? Your persistence caused this."

"How is it MY fault?"

"I'm merely stating that the lack of options is bound to make them uneasy." Veritas deadpanned and handed you an IPC magazine he had been trying to get you to browse. "Why don't you pick to your liking? Don't worry about expenses. I have it covered."

"What?! Do you want them to wear those un-stylish clothes? Please, you just want to have them wear your brand!"

"Don't project your carnal possessiveness as my own." Veritas scoffed. But Kaveh was right. He missed seeing his (Y/n) wear his lab coat.

"Oh really?! Fine then! Let's ask (Y/n) what they really think!"

March sighed. "Guys, I think you're forgetting that you're fighting over clothes—"

But they didn't hear her. Nothing else mattered to those two except you. And you alone.

Their partner.

Their heart.

Their reason for living.

Hence, they yelled in unison.

"Who do you prefer, assistant? Him or me?!"

"Who do you prefer, delam? Him or me?!"

Taglist: @vennnnn-diagram, @meimeimeirin, @korianne, @prophecy-harmony, @shellofthewell, @sagekun,

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blingblong55 · 1 year ago

Text

My kind of love -Keegan P. Russ

Based on a request:

Just a thought : Keegan strikes me as the guy who would hold wife! reader close to him when they sleep in their bed. Or he'd carry her when he finds her asleep on the couch. ---- F!Reader, fluff/romance, established!relationship, boyfriend!keegan, cuddling ----

A/N: thanking Bon Iver and Niall Horan for this fluff🙏

It's four in the morning, Keegan comes home after nearly ten months of deployment, his duffle bag placed on the floor. Steps soft to not wake you up, after all, he is meant to surprise you with his early arrival. As he was about to go and check on the dog, who slept by the sofa, he noticed a blanket, your blanket. He approaches you, his gaze softens the second he watches his beautiful sleeping. You look so peaceful, so calm and in this moment when things for months went so wrong, this view is all he can adore.

"My love, I'm home," Keegan whispers, in his arms, he carries you to bed. They say people have a certain amount of luck and you are proof of that. Maybe out there in the cruel world, he doesn't have much luck but in this place, a warm, cosy and safe place he calls home, he knows luck is there. No one can say they are lucky because they don't have you and he does. A million men can say your name, a million more can watch you but just one gets to come home to you. One man in a sea of billions gets to kiss you, to listen to your ramble about crazy theories, to listen to you hum a tune and to love you and be loved back.

That man is him and in this precise moment, he knows why he proudly waited day and night to hide that ring in his pocket. If he wasn't a romantic, he would propose to you right here right now but he wants that moment to be magical because his precious girl deserves it. "Keegan, it's you," your voice so soft. Fuck, why must you make his heart melt like this? Why must you- damn you! Why do you love him? Why do you see what others don't and why must you make him blush just from the sound of your voice? Couldn't you be any less cruel to his weakened heart? Oh but he loves it, he loves that voice, that touch and stare, he loves the kisses and the 'Did your job go well? Are you hurt? Did you miss me?' he loves it all.

"Of course, it's me, darling," he sets you down on the bed and covers you with the sheets. "I'll be back," his lips touched your soft skin before leaving to take a short shower. You lay in bed, not being able to sleep without him anymore, you wait for him. Once he snuggles to you, you can feel his fresh skin, how his embrace wraps you with love and with care. "Did everything go to plan?" you ask as you nuzzle your face on his chest, a low chuckle escapes his lips as he brushes your hair. "It did, which is surprising," he kisses the top of your head and drapes his leg over yours.

In a warm bed, you and he lie, legs intertwined like they are the perfect match. Your back to his chest, soft breathing filling the room. As you close your eyes, he finds himself admiring your beauty from his angle. His arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you close for the rest of the night as the other arm caresses your head. His fingers brush through the hair, and slowly, they make their way to your forehead, where he slowly catches himself falling asleep.

Until morning and maybe even after being awake, he keeps you in his hold and under those warm bed sheets. "I love you to the moon and back- no, let's keep going beyond the moon," he whispers as he keeps holding you close. If only he dared to propose already and make you his missus. But only the brave wait for the exact right moment.

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mavrintarou · 2 years ago

Text

[5:32PM] Uchiha Itachi

It's his birthday tomorrow but I wanted to be early.

Warning: I'm pretty sure we can all agree that Itachi's got a breeding kink; c'mon... look at the man... he screams it. So - explicit smut; soft Itachi; maybe, obsessed Itachi? .

Itachi stared at his wife as she read her novel comfortably on the couch, the book he tagged with her to the bookstore yesterday, and she was already halfway through it.

She laid on her back, taking up the long couch. With one book in her hand, the other rests on her abdomen.

Itachi’s lips curved into a small smile as he shook his head. Lately, he had been consumed by the idea of starting a family.

Especially after witnessing Y/n’s interactions with Shisui’s newborn baby, Itachi couldn’t help but feel a deep longing to start their own family finally. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were more than prepared to embrace parenthood.

Rising from his seat, Itachi gently placed his book aside and approached Y/n, who seemed lost in thought. Taking the book from her hand, he set it beside his own. Y/n’s eyes widened in surprise as she looked at him and her book, silently questioning his unexpected gesture. “Itachi?”

“Let’s have a baby.”

“Itachi,” she raised an eyebrow, her voice filled with surprise and amusement, “are you suggesting we have a baby right now?”

He nodded, his expression serious. “Yes, precisely, let’s make a baby. Now.”

Y/n pushes herself onto her elbows, playfully narrowing her eyes at him. “Who are you, and what have you done to my husband?”

Itachi sits on the couch and rests his face against her bosom. “I’ve always desired a family,” he confessed softly, “but I never wanted to rush you into it.” He slips a hand inside her shirt, feels for her breast, and groans when she isn’t wearing a bra. He hears her breath hitched as he massages and gropes her breast. Her nipple immediately puckered, and he rubbed the nub. “I’ve been imagining how your tits will be filled with milk and how you would nurse our baby.” He nips her breast through her shirt, leaving a wet bite mark. He pushes her shirt to expose her breasts and swirls his tongue around her nipple. “And me, too.” He takes it into his mouth, suckling like how a baby would.

“’Tachi…” she breathed, “I have been ready for a long time too now but…” she looked away, blushing, “but you keep using condoms every time.”

He releases her nipple, satisfied at how swollen it’s become. He shifts to the other nipple that’s already puckered, begging for the same attention. “Looks like the both of us have wasted time because we just didn’t communicate.”

Y/n covers her mouth to prevent herself from moaning. “I want to know what it feels like to have you cum inside me.”

Itachi sat up, gently pulling Y/n upward. His eyes held a gentle intensity as he spoke, “then allow me to demonstrate it to you.”

Y/n’s breath trembled as she watched him align his cock to her pussy. It was unbelievable to think that they had never had raw sex before. Itachi was always careful, wearing a condom each time.

He teased the wet tip against her slit, rubbing himself until she groaned in frustration. Itachi chuckled softly and pushed the tip, and thrust in one hit.

The room is immediately filled with flesh slapping flesh as Itachi wastes no time; his goal is to breed his beautiful wife.

This was much smoother than he expected; he feared Y/n wouldn’t be ready for parenthood. He was prepared to talk further about starting a family. Itachi felt faintly guilty, going as far as sneaking into his wife’s phone to check on her the next time she ovulates. He was glad he did not need to resort to his final plan, tampering with the condoms.

He knew he could be perceived as obsessed with his wife. She was already his wife, but that wasn’t enough. Itachi felt he needed more, something to tie her to him.

And a baby was it.

Itachi rocked his hips, watching his cock appear and disappear. He was losing control by the second, watching how creamy his cock looked with their body fluids mixing.

His large hand grips her hips, “in a few months; these hips will bear the weight of our baby.” His eyes shift to her breasts, rotating each time he thrust hard into her. Itachi’s hands slide to grope her breasts, tweaking her rosebud nipples. “And in time, these will leak milk…”

“’Tachi…” Y/n moan, “I’m so close… hurry… I’m ready – give me your cum…”

To see Y/n speak lewdly to him, Itachi abides by his wife’s wishes.

He fastens his hips, towering over her body and pressing against her. His lips found hers, kissing her deeply.

Y/n locks her ankles around his waist, nails digging into his shoulder blades as she is brought over the edge, trembling beneath Itachi. “Itachi… ‘tachi…” she moans his name repeatedly.

All Itachi wants to hear for the rest of his life is Y/n moaning his name.

He cums seconds later, with four hard thrusts to ensure he pushes his seed as far as possible.

They both catch their breaths, and seconds later, Itachi looks down at his wife, “are you okay?”

Her lips curve, “more than okay.”

“So, how does it feel to have me cum in you?”

Y/n slaps his arm playfully at his lewd question. “… I like it,” she mutters, cheeks flushing. She bites her lower lip before combing his bangs. “But we might need to do this a few more times before we can be sure I’m pregnant.”

Itachi turned to kiss his wife’s palm, “is now too soon again?”

Her eyes widen as she feels him twitching inside her, instantly becoming hard again. She squealed, “Itachi!”

Itachi’s gaze remained fixed on the gift placed before him, his eyes lingering with curiosity and anticipation. “What is this for?”

“You’re an early birthday gift because I couldn’t wait anymore.”

A slight furrow formed on Itachi’s brows as he picked up the small box, giving it a gentle shake. “You didn’t have to give me anything; I already have you,” he remarked, untying the ribbon that held the gift together.

Y/n hummed in response, choosing to disregard his comment. She settled beside him as he finally lifted the box lid. Observing his expression closely, she watched as he looked at the tiny pair of baby’s shoes, a positive pregnancy test, and an ultrasound image of their baby.

She reached for his hand and pressed it to the flatness of her belly, “happy birthday, daddy.”

. . .

@queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

#itachi smut #itachi fluff #itachi x you #itachi x y/n #itachi x reader #uchiha itachi

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forcemeanakin · 1 year ago

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𝗙𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱 ('𝘀 𝗱𝗮𝗱) - 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟯

•WARNINGS: SMUT. Age gap !!! Infidelity kink !!! (you’ve been warned, so if you do not agree pls leave because I’ll delete any hateful comments about this) Actual cheating. Dirty talk, teasing and sex in a public space, voyeurism, praising kink, bit of degrading, handjob (m and f receiving), oral sex (f receiving). Mentions of an unhappy relationship/divorce/troubled marriage.

Pairing: dilf!Anakin Skywalker x female!reader.

Series Summary: Luke takes you home for Life’s Day. On the edge of giving up on you two, Skywalker manages to light up a fire inside of you again. Problem is… wrong Skywalker.

Part One - Part Two

Part Three Summary: How could Mr. Skywalker resist such a pretty little thing like yourself when you come into his workshop with dessert?

Word count: 4.1 K.

A/N: NOT PROOFREAD, english is my second language, so please be gentle. If there are any mistakes, pls let me know in private so I can correct them, thanks :) Also I have a serious issue between differentiating “in” and “on” situations, so bare with me lmao.

Thank you so much for the comments in my last post! Your excitement makes me want to write even more :) seriously thank you! And I'm sorry if I forgot to tag someone, pls let me know if I missed you!

“You missed dessert.”

It took Anakin a second to realize that he wasn’t delusional, that your voice wasn’t a product of his imagination.

You were here, in his workshop.

With actual pie.

“Shouldn't you be upstairs, Y/n? It 's pretty late.” Anakin spoke without disconnecting his attention from the welding happening in his project.

You delayed your response, walking towards him and placing the plate on the counter, sliding it to him. Elbows on the surface, you supported your head on your knuckles, widening your eyes in innocence in case he indulged in looking up.

“I could ask that as well.” You got closer, taking a spot at his left side to admire the precision in which he was attaching cables. “Life Day's morning is tomorrow, we should be up pretty early. We’re also going skating.”

Anakin scrunched his face like he had forgotten about it and he was not eagerly expecting the trip.

“You can’t not go, it’s our last day here.” You murmured with a velvety voice, sending goosebumps through his spine.

“I’ve seen that fucking lake enough for a lifetime. I’m sure I won’t miss much.” He stuck his tongue out, inching his head forward to appreciate his manual work better.

“You’ll miss me.”

Anakin, having everything on the line, was too careful not to slip and fall. Because of that, your grand gestures and obvious advances were deflected by him every single time. Except that one time he did indulge. That one time where you weren’t even trying and he, by his own doing, fell into temptation. Only when commands a situation, or when he thinks he is, he lets himself free fall into his instincts.

“I’ll miss you.” You added, playing with the little metal panel that seemed the right size to fit the droid part he was fixing.

“I don’t think you miss me when you have Luke’s tongue down your throat.”

He bit the words, gripping the tool with more force in between his fingers, clearly upset. You hid a playful smirk.

“That’s when I miss you the most.” You whispered, grazing his ear shell with your lips, caressing the pull-up sleeve from his shirt.

He tensed at the ministration, blinking fast to return to his previous state of concentration, “To all of this, where’s your boyfriend? Doesn’t he have a promise to fulfill?”

Honestly, it was your fault for trusting Luke’s empty words. Again. But you were enjoying Anakin’s visible jealousy.

“Luke wanted to go straight to sleep… said he was stuffed from dinner. Not a lot of energy to do anything.” You briefly whined with a voice so low, Anakin could barely hear you with the noise of the machine.

So he stopped, pushing himself back onto his chair so he could look up to you without obstacles. His chair was set just a few inches lower to work better. Anakin’s eyes followed your figure from head to toe, casually lingering on the bit of skin that showed from the slit of your attire. Just like at the dinner table, he was struggling and was unsure that he would be able to escape harmlessly this time.

“I’m kind of jealous to be honest.” You mumbled, staring at the mess of parts, walking until you were in between him and the counter. Trapped in between his spreading legs, your chest was right on his eye line and you hadn’t changed your dress. “I wish I was stuffed as well.”

Gulping harshly, Anakin built up the strength to stare at your intense gaze, basically condemning himself. Because the minute he saw the hungry spark shining from them, he knew there wasn’t a single bone in him that would deny you if you asked for him again.

His strong, yet shy hand, climbed up your leg like a moth to a flame until he was able to grasp the fat of your thigh. Feeling your softness against his palm had him on the edge of staining his pants. With a little pull from his part, it took you mere seconds to obey his silent command and sit on his lap. Anakin’s curious hand continued to brush your bare leg, rejoicing in the way your breath would accelerate when his hand went up and how you bit your lip whenever it came down.

It also didn’t help that his other arm was wrapped around your waist, thumb miming the motion of his hand, but on your hip, trapping you in his embrace. Expectant of what would be his next move, you shyly waited for whenever he would peel his eyes from your slit and reciprocate the attention, this time on your face.

On your lips.

Like he was reading your mind, Anakin’s eyes slowly moved up your curves until he met your needy orbs, noses softly grazing each other at the proximity. Breath getting out of control at the shift of energy, warmth expanding all over your skin and clit throbbing in anticipation. You deviated your eyes momentarily to sneak a peek of the deliciously rich piece of pie laying on the table and he benefited from the newly acquired angle to caress your throat with his lips.

“Just a taste?” You murmured, looking at him through your eyelashes, intentionally inching closer to brush his lips with yours.

Was he going to do it? Take the next step?

Would he dare?

Would you dare?

Surpringsily, Anakin nodded swiftly, leaning into the intoxicating pull of your mouth. “Just a taste.”

Anakin’s lips tasted so much better the second time around, it tasted like victory. And you made it a personal goal of yours to show him how grateful you were that he finally caved in. Wasting no time, in case he changed his mind, your hands found their home in Anakin’s curls, the silky feeling of them a new aphrodisiac to you and apparently to him, by the way he was growling at your clasp.

His sneaky tongue barely asked for permission when it was already intruding into your mouth, licking everything on its way. Giving up on trying to take the lead, you surrendered to his rough pace and enjoyed the delicious sensation of his warm, wet tongue against your lips. Anakin would take advantage of your dumb state and hanging mouth to suck however he pleased, smirking because the only thing your mind could process was imitate his dirty moves. Until he bit your bottom lip, making sure your brain wasn’t already melted before he could even start ruining you.

When you pulled his hair, only because he had taken the party downstairs and was violently grabbing your ass, it was like you had awakened a beast. Out of nowhere, Anakin stood up, holding you by your thighs and placing you on the surface of his tool table. His shirt’s buttons were discarded early in the makeout session, granting you the space necessary to roam your palms all over his strong pecs and firm shoulder blades. And when you tried to wrap your legs around his waist, hinting right where you wanted him, he clasped his fists around your ankles, spreading you open without breaking the liplock. He was even more aggressive with the leverage his height gave him.

“Just a taste…” He grunted again, lifting up the skirt of your dress until it was tangled enough to give him a good view of your thong. He clicked his tongue at the sight of your spicy choice of underwear. “Almost like you had planned it all along.”

Shamelessly, so outrageously shameless, you drifted your legs further apart, making him snicker.

“Well, did you?” He wandered, sliding your damped panties down your legs.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since yesterday.” You breathed out, shivering at the breeze fanning your burning core. “I’ve never wanted something so bad.” Urged eyes glued directly to Anakin’s groin.

Anakin grinned a triumphant smile. That could’ve easily been a lie, but he doubted it. He recognized a brat when he saw one. Holding your foot like it was a delicate piece of glass, Anakin set the nibbling starting point right on your ankle and followed a beeline straight to your weeping cunt. His hot breath made you shiver in anticipation, whimpering to show off your desperation in case this would reach his sensible side.

“When was the last time you had an orgasm before me, baby? Without doing it yourself?” He breathed, roaming his hands up your legs, the contact so rough and intimate at the same time.

You hated that question, it embarrassed you.

“Mmm… Uhh-” You thought out loud, mind going blank as Anakin’s smooches went higher up. “F-four months?” You hissed.

“You’ve been dating Luke for three.” He did the math in his head.

Oh.

Your face turning in shame had his eyes widening.

It would be a lie if Anakin said that he wasn’t mad at his son for dragging the Skywalker name in the mud. For keeping such a needy thing like yourself restricted from gratification. With how sexual you were, four months were an eternity. Nonetheless, Anakin was a fixer and you were his next project.

“Desperate little thing, aren’t you? This slutty pussy can’t wait to have something inside of it. Anything.” Anakin mocked you, testing your sanity as he delayed contact with your core by redirecting his foreplay into the inner side of your thighs.

“That’s not true.” You fought with a trembling voice, observing how Anakin got closer and closer to delivering exactly what you wanted. “I only want you, d-”

The forbidden word. You almost spilled it.

“-sir.” You corrected in time, catching Anakin’s mocking glint. “Only you, please.”

Anakin’s face twisted in pleasure when his finger dived inside you, giving him a warm welcome, impossibly slick. You hugged his pumping digit tightly, getting even wetter at this fascinated expression. Anakin hadn’t felt such a lubricated canal in so long, his head almost exploded at the million possibilities with such an easy pussy: His cock would slide right in, be suffocated by your clenching walls just like his finger was...

That had him dropping on his knees, starting to eat you out like he was starved. Just like you predicted. Nose deep, no hesitation to blow your slobbering cunt with abandon, moaning right on your core when he had the very first taste of your flavor. So sweet. Just like he predicted.

“Oh- oh!” You whimpered at the first clean lick he gave you, quivering like a virgin because it had been too long since someone showed you love there.

Anakin’s tongue had the knowledge and patience none of the guys your age had. Every motion was so passionately delivered, so intentional. No rush, no fast lapping to get you off quickly. Anakin knew exactly what would have you shaking with pleasure and wasn’t scared to spend his time getting to know every hidden, sticky spot. In fact, it seemed like he enjoyed taking his sweet time with his face buried in your exposed core.

It was the hottest shit you’d ever seen.

You were riled up by the precise technique with which he knew exactly how to pleasure your opening, sucking on your lips like they were the meal and not a measly pit stop. But what had you speechless, just at a loss of words, was the way he didn’t hesitate to dip his face into your heat with fervor. As he planted open mouth kisses to your slit, face fully covered by your juices, he only pulled back to spit on top of your clit and play with the liquid slob on top of your bundle of nerves.

No grimaces, no disgust faces, just utter fascination by your reactions and your pussy.

“Such a sweet thing.” Anakin whispered, flattening his tongue and lapping over your mound. “Careful, I might not let you leave.”

Please don’t. You replied inside your head.

Anakin’s sounds of approval and delight made this whole experience even more sinful. Something about the idea of him enjoying cheating on his wife touched a nerve inside of you, something so wild and dangerous: You had another woman’s man in between your legs and he was enjoying being of service to you. You arched your back at the naughty thought, something Anakin didn’t appreciate because it moved you from the angle he had specifically situated you on; he had already discovered the spot that had your toes curling.

The power rush combined with Anakin's attention to your clit had a knot forming on your abdomen. Supporting yourself on your elbows, you looked down at Anakin’s work, not wanting to miss the scenario in front of you, in case you climaxed earlier than anticipated. But what you saw only pushed you closer to said ending. Anakin was playing with your clit like a cat with a toy, giving rapid licks that had your head spinning, while staggering eager sucks onto your nub. Anakin’s lips enveloped your clit with such care, only to roughly slurped on it, only backing down until he heard you whining. Or moaning his name. Whichever came first.

“Anakin-” You bravely attempted to cry his name, unsure of his reaction.

Anakin took the opportunity to analyze your flustered image, his gaze inevitably drawn to your falling cleavage, given that he was pulling down on the fabric by shouldering your legs. He could see the top of your boobs spilling from your undergarments and he dreamed of the looks of them. How perky they would be, how firm and squeezable they must be. Fantasizing about your young tits had him rolling his hips against the wooden leg of the table.

If Anakin locking your legs around his shoulders to dig deeper into your cunt wasn’t enough to have you convulsing, his tongue breaching into you and maneuvering it like it was actually fucking you, did.

“Anakin, I’m close- Oh,” You could barely hold yourself, deciding to lean limp against the hard surface, waiting for Anakin to sweep you off your feet with an outstanding orgasm.

“That’s right, you’re gonna come on my tongue. How does that feel?” Anakin pushed, squeezing your ass and bringing your core over to him to devour. Like the certified slut you were, you rocked your hips against his face, relishing on the massage his nose inflicted on your most sensitive part. “Fucking your boyfriend’s dad face. This has to be a world record.”

Anakin stared at you over your mound, drinking the heavenly sight of your face contorting in ecstasy by his doing. Such a pretty, young thing, so slick and wet… coming undone by his tongue. And his tongue only.

“Such a slut… my slut.” He degraded you with darkened eyes, amazed at how those words only had you trembling harder. “Only wanting to come on my tongue, by my cock. Isn’t that right?”

You nodded, taking the little spaces he gave you in between words to fight off the pending peak; you didn’t want this to be over. You needed more from him, you needed everything.

“Y-yes!” You closed your eyes, preparing yourself for the familiar wave of satisfaction.

“Yes, what?” Anakin teased.

Would you dare?

“Yes, daddy!” You screamed when your climax toppled you over.

Anakin had the minimal kindness of not rubbing your choice of words on your face as you came over his fingers, dripping not only on his hand, but his table. This climax in particular had you weak; the aftershocks prolonged for more than you were used to and legs trembled as if you had just worked out. It could have been because you hadn’t had one in so long, or maybe because of his skillful tongue. Probably a combination of both. But truth be told, it was the best orgasm of your life.

Even with dizzy eyes you could spot the bulge twitching inside his fitted pants. He had promised you just a little taste, but it was so unfair to leave him like that. Right?

Right?

Boosting yourself up, you directed your hand straight to his waistband, actively searching to fish his cock.

“What are you doing?” Anakin questioned but did little to no effort to stop your wandering touch.

You didn’t give an answer, instead lips pouted with a fixed stare, you let your actions speak for you. After unbuckling his belt, you loosened his pants, being faced with the opportunity of a lifetime. Anakin sucked his breath in when he saw your nails dipping under the elastic of his underwear, shaky exhales at the expectation of contact. You were unaware of it, you wouldn’t even believe it, but it had been a while for him too. Besides his own hand, he hadn’t known the touch of someone else in so long and Padmé didn’t even do the trick by now.

So when Anakin saw your widened eyes as you scope up his erection from its confinements, he felt the same rush he used to savor with other conquests whenever Padmé and he were on a on-and-off break. But this was better, so much more electric. Your surprised gasp at his big cock elevated his ego to new highs. It just confirmed what he already knew: that you’ve dealing with stupid boys, when you deserved a real man.

And Anakin was exactly that.

His eagerness pushed you to envelope your hand around his shaft with more confidence, your fingers struggling to meet around it because of the delicious girth. Anakin let go as soon as he felt you tugging his length, crumbling on your shoulder, barely supporting himself on the edge of the table at each side of your hips. Being the big man he was, you didn’t expect Anakin to be so vocal during sex, but fuck were you wrong. Whimpers started to spill from his lips, landing right on your ear. It was the most exquisite sound you’ve heard.

It was just so hot to have him completely surrender to you, to the will of your hand. Gladly, you pumped harder and faster, expecting to hear more of his inviting sounds. Having the upper hand encouraged you to try and lead the situation, turning his head by his chin with two fingers, sucking in his bottom lip as a first move before properly kissing him. Jacking him off while he still had his pants on, had you squeezing your thighs, the sight turning on a switch for you.

He followed your initiative and dipped his very own fingers to take care of you again. He would do it as many times as you needed, just for his own amusement. Closing his eyes, he sighed in content when his digits were fully installed inside of your warm walls.

“That’s it, that’s the stuff.” He smiled into the words, making you cry even louder at the intrusion. He couldn’t stop praising you, he was too fascinated by you. “Always so wet for me. Fuck, yes. So wet and slick, ready to let me in. I adore this young pussy.”

You sobbed at the last words he pronounced, Anakin cracking a wicked grin. He was mesmerized by how unfiltered and vulgar your dark side turned out to be. Finally a worthy opponent.

Anakin and you worked on each other until you were both grazing the edge: sloppily kissing, moaning on each other's mouths and exchanging the same air by just how close you were. The scene replicated the rush and eagerness of a young couple who couldn’t keep their hands off each other’s pants. It was so intimate, yet distant at the same time.

Because he wasn’t technically fucking you his conscience weighted a bit less. Using that logic, Anakin found comfort that, as long as you two kept your shenanigans at hand stuff, there was no reason why he should be called a cheater. It was two people exchanging favors.

It was him shaking you off his system.

“A-Anakin, you make me feel so good. Please.” You squealed when he circled around your clit with his thumb as his thick fingers worked in and out of you.

“Next time you touch yourself, you’ll think of these fingers, you’ll think of me.” Anakin grunted, flicking your nub without care. He relished on the little scream you let out.

Anakin felt the exciting clench when he inserted his third finger in, your contorted face tattling you anyway. That was good news, because he was close too. It was hard for him not to when you were looking like sin itself with your dress discarded at waist level, cheeks flushed and mouth hung open, begging to be fucked by his tongue.

Anakin wanted to grip you, rip you apart, crush you under the weight of his desire. He needed to have all of you in order to move on, so the next half of his life was spent dreaming about the feeling of you, as an alternative of a lifetime simply wandering. And as much as he wanted to extend this moment forever, your constant spasms were threat enough to let him know release was right around the corner.

Gushing on him again, you felt your body going limp. Smiling to the ceiling, you thought about how Anakin had ended your miserable drought with two winning orgasms. It was so intense, you were actually ashamed of how many unholy sounds you squealed but it didn’t make sense why a simple hand job would feel so good.

Flipping onto your stomach at the speed light, Anakin needily pulled up the bottom of the dress until your ass was bare and exposed for him to fondle as he pleased, panting frantically. You didn’t even felt ashamed when he split you open; you offered yourself to him even more and he fucking loved it.

He fucking loved how shameless you were, how excited for his attention you got. A breath of fresh air, that was you.

But right when Anakin was about to give into his darkest desires, right about to cross the line between wrong and utterly wrong, gripping the edges of the table while trembling as his cock sat an inch away from your entrance…

Just one little push and he would taste heaven.

Just one little thrust and he would know glory in the purest form.

The debate raged inside of him, a bead of sweat falling from his temple. He was only torn away from his mental debate when your impatient orbs peep from over your shoulder.

“Please.” You whined, shaking your ass to entice him. “P-please do it, daddy. I’m begging, I really am.”

Knees weak, Anakin was about to cave.

Just one swing of his hips. Just one tiny buck-

Another whine came out of you, but a disappointing one, this time provoked by Anakin jacking himself off until he was covering your heart-shaped cheeks with the viscous liquid you desperately wanted to swallow. Holding your jaw so you would make eye contact with him, Anakin put two cum-covered fingers in front of you, almost spurting a second time when your eyes rolled at the back of your head at the taste. His jizz was as good as dessert, for fuck’s sake.

But things come to an end.

“This can’t ever be known.” Anakin finally picked himself up from behind you, buttoning his pants as he shook his head, clearing his throat. It felt like he was talking to himself, “This- uhm, this never happened. Never happened...”

“But it did. And I liked it.” Not fixing your dress so he would be greeted by your perky nipples, you turned to face him. “In fact, I loved it. I kinda want more.” You tilted your head, eyeing his groin without a filter. “Don’t you want more, daddy?” You had found a weak link and Anakin was making absolutely no effort to hide the effects of the word on him.

Of course he wanted more. He wanted everything. Especially when you were staring at him with those eyes, and that hair, and those tits- God, those firm, perky tits were getting to him.

The phone he had installed for inner communication inside the house rang. It was Padmé calling him to sleep, the noise from his workshop disturbing her dreams. A nerve-wracking feeling took over you as soon as the phone call ended, you evidently awaiting for his next statement.

He would either stay or leave. As simply as that.

In or out?

When Anakin took one bite of the pie as he fixed his eyes on you, you smirked as a mirror of his own smile.

taglist : @darthgloris @ingrid69ers @shulipp @bookishnights03 @anakinswh0re419 @fuckmyskywalker@dxviiin @bby-imasociopath @adoringanakin @d0llfacehgwts@daddyissuesbabygirl

let me know if you wanna be tagged in the upcoming parts!

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somerandomdudelmao · 1 year ago

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Hi Cass! First off I love all your stuff, huge inspiration ❤️💜💙🧡

You mentioned that you have to work fast because you’re in the animation industry then in the tags said you have ADHD. I’m a animation student struggling with my ADHD so I was wondering if it would be ok to ask how you handle staying focused and being motivated? Cognitive dissonance hits hard sometimes 🙃

Hm. The thing is, I work in the animation industry, but I'm not an animator. I'm a storyboard artist. It's very different.

When I was going into this whole thing, I was thinking a little bit about becoming an animator. Because let's be honest, the final product coming out of the hands of animators looks a lot cooler than a rough and crude storyboard. But I also realized very quickly that being an animator is literally the worst thing for my brain. It requires attention, perseverance, precision, and worst of all, it takes time. I tried to do one animation and realized I had none of those things. My brain was turning the whole process into torture.

So I started looking at other options and turned my attention to storyboarding. Because storyboarding is pretty much the opposite of animation when it comes to the creative process.

Drawing has to be fast and rough, you constantly have to come up with something new (and an adhd brain loves novelty~) And most importantly, angles, composition shots and characters are constantly changing.

I don't get stuck for two hours drawing the same face 500 times with careful precision. I play out whole scenes with lots of action and different emotions going on. It's entertaining.

And because some stages of the work can be done very sloppily, it makes it easier for me to overcome my paralysis and take it on.

I'm not going to say this will work for everyone. But for me personally? I think I've found the perfect job for my adhd brain haha

Of course, some amount of struggle is still present, but I'm stuck in a country where it's almost impossible to get adhd medication, so I've just accepted it~

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bakedbakermom · 4 months ago

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@onlineproblems asked me this while workshopping some fic and I don't want to go to the grocery store so I'm gonna procrastinate by answering!

So to understand where I'm coming from, we first have to go back to the pilot.

When Scully goes down to the basement office for the first time, she introduces herself as Dana Scully, and the next words out of Mulder's mouth are, "Who'd you piss off to get stuck with this detail, Scully?" The way he says it is so fascinating to me. The emphasis. The hint of teasing. The deliberate dismissal of her first name, as if he's certain she's not going to stick around long enough for him to care, and moreover that he doesn't WANT her to stick around, doesn't WANT to care. He's all alone in the basement, the FBI's most unwanted, and he likes it that way (or at least he thinks he does).

In that scene, "Scully" itself becomes a nickname. Like she's his annoying little sister (🥺) tagging long on his adventures but she's NOT welcome.

Little does he know that Dana Scully is not just a little sister, but the THIRD child, and therefore has taken Little Sistering to a professional level. She gives it right back to him without missing a beat, sassing and challenging and not flinching away from his questions or his graphic (for 90s TV) slideshow. She teases him right back every step of the way, countering his "Scully" with her own "Mulder" in precisely the voice you know she used to use when Bill was being a little shit about "no girls allowed."

Thus "Mulder," too, becomes a nickname. Like he's her jerk older brother trying to exclude her from his Very Serious Work, but he doesn't know what a tenacious little pomeranian she is and she won't let him get away with it.

From then on, that's what they are to each other. Scully and Mulder. Mulder and Scully. A team, but not always on the same side. A pair, but able to split toward their own purposes. A unit of two individuals.

I came across this post this morning, about how they are CONSTANTLY saying each other's names. Like, every other line of dialogue, if not more. I swear Mulder starts and ends his sentences with "Scully" sometimes. It really is A LOT.

But also, when they do this, it's so incredibly intimate. They assign so many different meanings to their names with just the tiniest lilt and tremor and shift in cadence. (This is a testament to both GA and DD's acting skills, that they can pack whole paragraphs of emotion into just two syllables.) They say it with fear, with fascination, with tenderness and curiosity and challenge and anger and frustration and humor and disbelief. As prayer and plea and profanity. With promise and passion. And eventually, with love. So much love.

They say "Scully" and "Mulder" the same way I call my husband "honey." It's not just a name. It's who they ARE to each other. Their names are just a shorthand. An anchor. A question and an answer in one. She's his Scully. He's her Mulder.

It's not the syllables that matter. It's the feeling behind them.

Which brings me to pet names. When I write MSR, I tend to leave the pet-naming to Mulder for the most part, because he seems like a pet-namey kind of guy. And Scully, who has never struck me as a pet-namey kind of gal, lets him get away with it because he calls her "baby" the exact same way he calls her "Scully," and he calls her "Scully" the exact same way he calls her "baby." They have spent so much time calling each other by nicknames that aren't nicknames, that the actual sounds coming out don't matter anywhere near as much as the emotion inside them. He could call her "sasquatch" or "football" and she'd know exactly what he meant. (HC that she gets some Chewbaca-inspired lingerie at some point, and he calls her a sexy little sasquatch, and she's stunned by how turned on she gets.)

Scully only uses pet-names sparingly, in times of great emotion or overwhelm. He told her once (just once) that he doesn't like being called Fox, and so "Mulder" is her baseline name for him in nearly all circumstances. She'll call him "honey" when he kisses her neck just so, or "baby" when he's hurt and needs comfort, but the truth is he loves hearing every last shade of "Mulder" from her lips. Every possible way she could ever say his name, he hoards those syllables like a dragon hoards gems. He's never loved the sound of his own name, except when she's the one who says it. When she does use a pet-name, on those rare occasions, it resonates with him in a very deep way. Sparkling diamond "sweethearts" amid the troves of emerald and ruby "Mulder"s. A glowing opal "honey," slow and sweet as a sigh. "Baby" like a sapphire, like her eyes when she kisses him as if he's the only other person in the world.

If they ever did marry--even if it's just them in their unremarkable kitchen with a pair of second-hand rings and nothing but stale cereal as witness--their vows would be simple. Four syllables, evenly divided.

#wow i had a lot of feelings about this didn't i #hot damn #txf #msr #headcanon #pet names #txf meta

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fushiglow · 2 months ago

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A little notice about my fics!

The top/bottom wars aren't as prevalent here on Tumblr (thank god) but I'm going to share this heads up for any fixed dynamic friends here too — just in case!

My nearest and dearest already know why, but I recently removed t/b tags from my works on AO3. I'm aware this is an act of war to some, but I'm tired of seeing people talk shit about me and I figure if I make my stance clear in the tags, no one can complain.

This will come as a surprise to some people, but I truly don't care if this limits my reach. In fact, that's precisely why I've done it. Just because I choose to share my work, doesn't mean anyone is entitled to it. I've never tried to attract readers who choose works based primarily on t/b dynamic.

I write for myself first and foremost, and removing the tags to curate my own experience as an author writing vast amounts for this fandom for free is my right. Anyone who doesn't agree with that probably shouldn't be reading my work in the first place. We are artists, not service providers!

Despite what some people think, I'm truly not out to shit all over fandom etiquette. I'm always kind and courteous to people, even when they don't afford me the same respect. Except for my beloved friends for whom I'll always go the extra mile, I don't owe anything to anyone in this fandom.

That said, I'm genuinely sorry if this choice alienates some of my mutuals. I hope you understand I'm not trying to jumpscare anyone with a "nasty" surprise, and I'm happy to share the sexy intel with people I trust. I really hope you're still interested in my writing, but no hard feelings if not 🫶

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #satosugu #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo satoru #geto suguru #sugusato #stsg #sgst #五夏 #夏五 #goge #gego #glo's writing #fushiglow

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xxsycamore · 4 months ago

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BAD LIAR

╰┈➤ You love Harrison, but he gets on your nerves sometimes. You know you can't lie to him, but you can still get back at him in other ways...

Harrison Gray/f!Reader • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Jealousy; Make-up Sex; Couple Arguments; Rough Kissing; Vaginal Sex; Riding; Dirty Talk; Swearing; Rough Sex; Creampie • wordcount: 2,405 • masterlist

Visions of Temptation 2024/KINKTOBER DAY 5: Make-up Sex

"I told you already. Even if I didn't have my curse, I'd still see right through you. Because you're simply that bad of a liar."

The tiny gasp you let out only makes Harrison that much more amused. You feel the blood boiling in your veins, not even caring anymore if you're overreacting or not.

"I swear, this has nothing to do with you, Harry. I too like to drink strawberry milk sometimes, okay? It's as simple as that! I wanted to drink some so I got myself some. It was my strawberry milk. It wasn't strawberry milk I left for you because I'm too shy to tell you I got you a gift! Jeez!"

"I told you it's fine. I know how shy you can be when it comes to expressing your feelings…"

He pauses to take a sip - the last sip, precisely - of the glass before setting it down where you can see it.

The audacity.

"…So now that you saw me enjoying your gift, we can close the topic if you want to. No need to get so worked up over it… though I'd admit, it's a good look on you."

You watch the empty glass in disbelief.

"…It's sexy, even."

And in the next second, you simply storm out of the room.

***

Later that night, you enter the castle with your cheeks hurting from the big grin you’ve been sporting for quite some time now. With a spring in your step, you walk into the foyer while still linking arms with Liam.

You caught a carriage ride back home together after you ran into him, as your late afternoon going out happened to coincide with him finishing his rehearsal at Scala. Spending some time with him was definitely better than sulking by yourself while browsing the marketplace, seeing how quickly and effortlessly he cheered you up with his bright and bubbly persona. You're not sure if he asked out of politeness or if he picked up the signs of you having a bad day that easily - great, not only are you a bad liar but it seems like you can't hide your feelings at all now - but it wasn't long before you were telling Liam all about your lovers' quarrel earlier that day.

Liam's initial reaction was to smile. Just a smile, not a mocking laugh that reminds you of a certain someone's relentless teasing. Then he made sure to comfort you about it, saying he understands why you're upset with Harry. He's a good friend of his, after all, he knew exactly what you're talking about.

Liam's magenta eyes lighted up for a second, like an imaginary pair of cat ears tingling in attention on the top of his head, with a new smile blooming on his face. A mischievous one this time. He told you he has a plan.

"We're hooooome!" Liam announces out loud, making sure the figure sitting with its back to the door is able to hear it. Of course, both you and Liam know who this is, but you pretend you don't.

"Oh, Harry, it's you!"

Turning to face you while still holding onto the book he's been reading while waiting for your arrival, you and Liam make sure he sees your linked arms just for a bit longer before you let go of each other. You approach first, resting your arms on the backrest of the sofa where Harrison is sitting and gushing about the fun time you had with Liam.

"…And then he looked down and saw he was still wearing those funny-looking medieval shoes from the rehearsal!"

"I can't believe you had to point them out to me… In my defense, Tom is absolutely working me to the bone these days! He's so excited for this new play we're putting on!"

"Who wouldn't be? When you told me about the plot of it, it got me all excited too! Can't believe I haven't seen this play before… I definitely have to come see it. Hey, Harry, you're coming too, aren't you?"

Between the animated gesturing of you and Liam, Harrison remains quiet and mostly still. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, tilting his head for a second as if he's been distracted until you spoke his name.

"Hm? Oh, sure. I'll be there."

"Yaaay!" You clap your hands, before turning your attention to Liam again, as he apologizes for having to leave the two of you so soon. He doesn't forget to say that he's going out early in the morning and probably won't be back till the end of the day. And you don't forget to show how much you're going to miss him, giving him a nice goodbye hug. Right in front of Harrison's eyes.

Once he's gone, you let out a sigh, but don't hurry to move your attention to Harry just yet, even as you walk past him on the sofa. This, however, leaves you wide open, as a pair of arms wraps around your waist in a flash, pulling you right into the lap of the cunning fox.

"Eeek! What's gotten into you, Harry?"

Up this close, reading Harrison's gaze is not hard, even while he's doing the same to you. It's rare to see him so unlike himself, but if there's one thing you know for sure, it's that this is the face of a man being jealous. You need no special abilities to tell this much.

"Nothing much. What's gotten into you? You seem to be in high spirits."

You scrunch your nose at him, opening your mouth to bite back… but you select your words carefully so as not to be caught telling a lie, answering the question with a question.

"Can't I be?"

"'Dunno. It's not the face of someone whose treat was stolen earlier."

It's tempting to break the intense eye contact with a roll of your eyes, but you hold back, even if his words provoke you to do just that.

"Oh, that? I got over it already! I'm not childishly stingy about getting my treats stolen, like a certain someone."

Ouch, that must have hurt. You worry about going too far, but you can't deny the amusement of getting back at him. Especially when you can bask in the results of your earlier performance being written across his face. Maybe your place is in Scala, after all.

His teal eyes shimmer with an unfamiliar light in them, and trying to figure it out makes you feel dizzy. In the next moment, it ceases mattering altogether, because both of you go in for a kiss at the same time.

It begins slowly despite the dramatic pause that preceded it, neither of you wanting to give in first. You let Harrison in your mouth, just to ambush him; wrapping your tongue around his, you turn the kiss into something rougher, and he doesn't back down to you in the slightest. The mass of frenzied energy inside you manifests in clinging to his arms, to his shoulders, tugging at his hair, at his clothing; you maintain your iron grip even as you notice you're disheveling his shirt at this point.

He is the first to withdraw, and despite looking slightly out of breath, he's still staring at you with the same look in his eyes, almost as if he's mad at you. Good, the feeling is mutual.

"Bedroom. Now."

Thank god he said it already.

Once you find yourself in private with Harrison, you know you will not hold back, and neither will he. It's a surprise that a mindful hand still reaches for the light switch, though it's hardly important for either of you right now. With the way you're set on your goal, bodies knowing the way, you hardly need to be able to use your vision at all.

"You're the worst. I'm so mad at you."

"No, you aren't."

Ignoring his words, you relish in the feeling of the naked torso you drag your fingernails down, once that shirt is finally gone. But you're after his belt next, even if Harrison's own hands are on the way.

He's got your skirt removed already, trying to distract you with a kiss while he removes your blouse next, but you refuse to lift your arms up - not until you claim the next article of clothing on him. He breaks the kiss and clicks his tongue, fed up and impatient. Not unlike you.

He easily finds your wrists and grabs them, backing you to the bed and pushing you down until your body hits the fluffy duvet. From there on, his plan seems to be holding your wrists in one hand above your head while he attempts to lift the hem of your blouse again with the other, but it proves hard with you squirming underneath him. You can't stop looking at the expression he makes, and you remember to use your strongest weapon, your tongue.

"You're pretty worked up, aren't you, Harry? Could it be that you really got jealous…?"

He'd never confess to it straight up, so you can at least have your fun teasing him for a little longer.

"I didn’t."

"Liar."

The growing need to kiss his puckering lower lip is what makes you give up on the undressing war, letting the piece of clothing be taken off of you and discarded somewhere on the floor, joining the pile that's already there. Harrison keeps the kiss short because there's still more he can take off of you.

"Yeah, that's what I am."

That's it? No "at least I know when to stop", anything? You lift your head up to catch him moving down on you and tugging at your underwear using his teeth, and the sight makes you forget about your grudge for a split second. Damn it, you want him so bad.

You know once he gets between your legs you'd be screaming with pleasure no matter how stubborn you are. But at least you want to be the one calling the shots while your anger still fuels your boldness. It takes a little bit of effort and a little bit of tongue down Harrison's throat, but at last, you manage to push him down the bed and turn the tables on him.

Once you're on top, you drag down his pants in a rush together with his underwear, letting his erection spring out in your awaiting hands. You rub the blunt head onto your drenched entrance, teasing him one last time before you gradually sink down on him. Though it lacks the usual gentleness Harry treats you with, always mindful of his own size, and the result has you cursing him.

"F-Fuck you…"

"Yeah, it seems like you're trying to do that."

His big hands snake their way up your waist, already there to support you, and a part of you wants to smack them away and show him how well you can ride him without his aid. But you don't, despite yourself and despite the provoking words that his dirty mouth keeps on spilling.

You don't know what's to blame here, but the pleasure of becoming one with him grows tenfold under these circumstances. You need to keep going like you need air. Like it's the only way to channel the emotions rushing inside you right now. The only pause you're willing to take is to unclasp your bra and throw it down at Harrison.

He catches it, bringing it down to his lips for a second while flashing you another dirty look, before it ceases being of interest to him and he throws it away.

"You're- Haaah- You're seriously bad at this. Aren't you going to say something in defense?"

"I'm more interested in fucking you right now."

Your walls clench as you hear this, your body being way more honest than the words coming out of your mouth tonight, but it's hardly a surprise between the two of you.

"Since when did that become your priority? I thought you were having more fun teasing me?"

"Since yesterday. Remember when I commented on how sexy the look on your face is?"

The pace of your hips falters. Thinking about Harrison desiring you like this is, admittedly, hot, but it's his honesty that messes with your head here. As much as he uses his lies to his advantage, it seems like he can use honesty in just as dangerous ways.

Another lowering of your guard, and another chance for him to flip the two of you around.

Now that he's back on top, Harrison hooks your legs on the folds of his arms and it's your only sign to brace yourself for what's to come.

"Come on, say it. Say that you want me to fuck you. Or lie if you wish, I'm not stopping you."

You have to give up clutching your jaw the second Harrison starts pounding inside you in earnest, but the fear of him stopping is what makes you really say the words.

"Fuck me… Fuck me, please! More! Don't stop!"

"As you wish."

Unlike how talkative both you and Harrison have been so far, the following minutes are filled with nothing but moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin. When he leans over you, caging your body completely in his arms, you can't resist wrapping your own arms securely around his shoulders, afraid of him playing tricks on you again. Even if you know he won't. You need this so badly, and so does he.

"Harry… Harry, tell me you love me…! Ngnnhh-I'm gonna-!"

"I love you. I love you so much."

"I love you too-Ahhhh-!"

Hot-white takes over your vision as Harrison's pace shatters, his thrusts deepening just as you reach your peak, milking him for everything he has. He keeps rutting inside you while he cums, his heavy pants muffled into the crook of your neck as he leaves open-mouthed kisses against your feverish skin. You hold him so tightly even after the strong climax relaxes its grip on you, as if wanting him to sink into your ribcage and completely become one with you.

The kiss the two of you share once you can find your breath again, or maybe even before that, is a sweet one, but the aftertaste of it promises another round of this. It seems like there are still some things you have to settle with Harrison.

Liam when he came up with the idea: Oh they're fucking fucking tonight!

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @kimi00twin @g-kleran @thesirenwashere @devonares @galaxyprison @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @natimiles @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @groovylita Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikemen villains harrison #ikevil harrison #harrison gray #ikemen villains harrison gray #ikemen harrison #ikemen villains fanfic #ikevil fanfic #ikemen series #ikeseries #otome #otome games #kinktober 2024 #visions of temptation 2024 #kinktober #visions of temptation

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httpvomitello · 28 days ago

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aah, haiii!! i saw ur reqs was open for tmnt mutant mayhem (MY GOODNESS ITS SO HARD FINDING OTHER MUTANT MAYHEM WRITERS IN THE TAG WHEN ITS DEAD) so i thought i might request!! :)

could i req a few drabbles n hcs of mikey with a female kpop (doesnt have to be kpop specifically) idol reader?? like yk the basic stuff, globally popular and well liked model?? it’s alr if you cant do it!!

have fun, take care of yourself and drink and eat and rest!!

Hello my beautiful person! So, I'm not writing for TMNT anymore(on hiatus for a while). But! I know how hard it is to find something from a fandom that's practically gone, so I decided to accept your request. Hope you like it ~ ♡♡♡♡

DON'T FORGET TO DRINK PLENTY OF WATER AND EAT TOO! I'm serious, I'll be keeping an eye on each and every one of you...

Fanboy Mikey *⁠.⁠✧

tmnt mm mikey x f!idol

Mikey is your #1 fan.

Like, he was a fan before you two even met. Posters on his wall, saved dance covers on his phone, and an embarrassing number of your songs on his playlist. The moment he found out you were real and actually into him? Mind blown.

He brags about you ALL THE TIME. You’re a global superstar, and he is so in love with you. His brothers get tired of hearing, “Did you see what Y/N posted today? Bro, she’s so talented,” at least five times a day.

Super supportive boyfriend vibes.

Whether it’s sending you good luck texts before a performance or watching every live stream you do (even if it’s at 3 AM), he’s always cheering you on.

Fanboy over you even in private.

You could literally be eating cereal in his hoodie, hair a mess, and he’d still be like, “Omg, my girlfriend is so stunning. The world doesn’t deserve her.”

Learns your choreography.

He already dances, so if you’re a performer, expect him to master your choreo just to show off. If you ever do a TikTok dance trend together? It will break the internet.

Lowkey insecure sometimes.

Like, you’re famous famous. Paparazzi, fans screaming your name, sold-out stadiums—the whole thing. He worries that maybe he’s not good enough, but you always reassure him with forehead kisses and cuddles.

Loves it when you sing to him.

No matter what, if you hum a song while lying on his chest, he’s melting. Absolute puddle.

Tries to go incognito at your concerts.

He wears the biggest hoodie and sunglasses combo and still gets recognized. Your fans think it’s adorable how supportive he is.

Secretly loves it when you style him.

He’s got his own fashion sense, sure, but if you ever put him in a cute outfit or match with him? He’s posing for the ‘gram immediately.

Paparazzi Problems

Mikey wasn’t used to this. The flashing cameras, the crowd of people calling your name, the chaos of it all. He squeezed your hand a little tighter as you smiled and waved at the fans gathered outside the restaurant.

“You okay?” you murmured, tilting your head to check on him.

Mikey blinked, suddenly realizing he’d been staring. “Oh, yeah! Totally! Just, uh… wow. This is normal for you?”

You chuckled, tugging him a little closer as security guided you both to the car. “Pretty much.”

Once inside, away from the noise, he let out a dramatic exhale. “Babe, I love you, but man, I dunno how you do that every day.”

Sometimes he even forgets that because he is a mutant turtle, he also ends up attracting a lot of attention.

You giggled, reaching over to ruffle his hoodie-covered curls. “That’s why I like being with you. You make me feel normal.”

Mikey’s heart did a little flip. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Now, let’s go home and watch cartoons.”

Mikey beamed. “Best. Girlfriend. *Ever.*”

TikTok Shenanigans

“Mikey, keep your arms still—”

“I’m trying! But this move is impossible, babe.”

You sighed dramatically, stepping back and crossing your arms. “You literally learned a triple backflip off a skyscraper, and you can’t do a simple eight count?”

Mikey pouted. “That was different! This is, like… so precise. I don’t wanna mess it up.”

You softened, reaching for his hands. “You’re not gonna mess up. Just follow me, okay?”

He nodded, cheeks dusted pink. “Okay.”

By the time you finally nailed the routine and posted the video, the internet was losing it.

@fanaccount: MICHELANGELO LEARNED THE WHOLE CHOREO FOR HIS GIRLFRIEND I CAN’T—

@anotherfanofYN: They’re literally the cutest couple ever wtf

@iloveYN: The way he looks at her omg, we lost him to love y’all

Mikey, reading the comments “Babe… am I a boyfriend goal now?”

You smirked. “You always have been.”

#reader #x reader #y/n #tmnt #tmnt x reader #f!reader #tmnt mutant mayhem raph #tmnt mutant mayhem mikey #tmnt mutant mayhem leo #tmnt mutant mayhem #tmnt mutant mayhem donnie #tmnt x you

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claudemblems · 11 months ago

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Cat's Out of the Bag | Moriarty the Patriot

Summary: It looks like you've been rudely interrupted mid kiss with your (secret) lover. Suffice to say the situation is quite awkward...

Content: SFW. Sherlock being Sherlock. Jokes about some characters reading too much into the situation but there is no mature content going on. Please don't tag this as anything but SFW!

Characters: Sherlock, Louis, John

Notes: Let me kiss them on the foreheads please 🥺

Sherlock Holmes

Well, this is certainly surprising. Mycroft didn't suspect that his routine "wellness check" (code for his surprise paintball gun fights) would end up with him walking on his brother sharing kisses with a lady

(He was sure he told him to beware of women once...)

And really, in the living room of the flat for anyone to walk in on! It was as if Sherlock would show no shame in being caught (true)

But...Mycroft didn't remember any woman catching his little brother's eye. It seems that this was a well-kept secret indeed

"Sherly, if you are going to show your affections to a woman, there are appropriate places to do so. Out in the middle of the sitting room with the door unlocked is not one of them."

"What do you want?" Sherlock hissed, running a hand through his messy hair. "Why do you always have to show up at the most inopportune times?!"

"Because I care for you, Sherly," Mycroft answered with a smile. Then his gaze drifted over to you, your cheeks growing pink. "My apologies for not properly introducing myself. You may call me Mycroft. I am Sherly’s elder brother."

"No one asked, now get out," Sherlock huffed, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. "You've spoiled the mood."

"Why didn't you inform me that you had a lover? You'll be needing all the advice I can spare if this relationship is to be maintained. Besides, do you even know basic biology?" Mycroft sighed, shaking his head. "You have a terrible habit of only absorbing information that interests you. It's to be assumed that you have no inclination of the topic of se–"

"All right, that's enough!" Sherlock exclaimed, leaping out of his seat and pushing his brother towards the door. "Please, my dear, darling older brother, do not come back without an invitation. Bye!"

And before Mycroft could formulate a witty response, the door was promptly shut in his face, locked with a key for good measure.

"...Sherlock?"

"Don't mind him. He's always this irritating." Sherlock huffed, returning to his spot beside you on the sofa. "I'm sorry if his visit resulted in embarrassment for you. Now you can imagine what I have to go through on a regular basis."

"Pesky older brothers," you laughed. "I suppose it's fortunate I don't have one of my own."

"Truly. If you did, I have a feeling that they'd be grilling me on my reasons for courting you. I don't need any more sibling drama than I have now."

"Well, at least he's gone now, right?"

"And hopefully he won't be back for a long while."

"I'm guessing his display just now is the reason you didn't tell him that we're together?"

"Precisely. Now, I'm afraid we'll have to be careful about him barging in again. He can be quite stubborn in that regard."

"It'll be alright," you said, placing your hand atop Sherlock's. "At least now we know what to expect."

"Well, next time he can 'expect' the nearest object being tossed at his head."

Even Sherlock gets so embarrassed you thought, smiling when you noticed the red tips of his ears.

“You’re blushing,” you said, unable to resist the urge to tease him. It wasn’t often Sherlock got so flustered, after all.

“I am not.”

“You do realize that you scratch the back of your neck when you’re lying, right?”

Sherlock tsked, playfully rolling his eyes before pulling you into his arms. “You’ve picked up on too many of my tactics. You’ll pay for this!” Your laughter echoed throughout the flat as Sherlock tickled you mercilessly until you confessed to your ‘crime’.

However, a few kisses of recompense bribed your way out of a guilty sentence. Maybe that favoritism made Sherlock guilty, too, but he wasn’t opposed to the two of you being partners in crime.

Louis Moriarty

Well, well, well. Who knew sweet and innocent Louis would be caught with lipstick stains on his face?

Moran knew he shouldn't be so delighted at the sight in front of him, but it was almost like...he was seeing a little brother become a man

Besides, Moran didn't count on any of the brothers having a secret relationship. To say this was a surprise was an understatement. Perhaps the others would like to know…

"Sorry, Louis. Was I interrupting something?" Sebastian asked, unable to hide his toothy grin.

"Just what on earth are you doing entering the room without knocking?!!" Louis' glasses weren't enough to hide the blush creeping on his face which grew more and more noticeable by the minute.

"Didn't think you'd be so busy," Moran replied, wriggling an eyebrow. "The evidence of the crime is all over you."

"There was nothing indecent going on here!" Louis his face in his hands, internally plotting a million ways to get rid of Moran without arousing suspicion.

"You shouldn't have to say so if that were the case."

"Moran!!!"

"Okay you two, calm down, all right?" you sighed, trying to salvage the last bit of decency between you and Louis. "If Moran came in here, he probably needs something from us. What can we help you with?”

"Well, I was just dropping by to say that the last mission we discussed is still on. William's already moving forward with the plan. However, if you also need me to get the manor empty for a while, let me know. I can pull a few strings."

"Whenever you speak with William again,” you said through gritted teeth, “can you ask him to teach me how to get away with murder?"

"Oh, that's quite a specific request. Care to elaborate?"

"I'll elaborate when I put you six feet below the ground, Sebastian."

Moran put his hands up in the air in surrender, though the grin never left his face. "I was just joking around. Besides, if Louis gets this embarrassed just kissing you, there's no way he'd be able to–"

Moran jumped as a knife whizzed past him and embedded itself into the wall.

"If you get so caught off guard just by running your mouth, there's no way you'd be prepared for a surprise attack by an enemy."

"Aaand would you look at that, it's half past tea time! Better go help the others with the details of the plan."

You didn't think you'd ever seen Moran run out of a room so quickly.

"Louis, please don't threaten him. I know he's an idiot sometimes but..."

"Nevermind him. Shall we continue where we left off?"

You blinked, taken aback by Louis' sudden boldness. "O-Oh. You...want another kiss?"

Louis' lips turned upwards in a wicked grin. "Put them where your lipstick will be visible. I want Moran to remember how he barely escaped this situation with his life."

John Watson

Oh, uh…huh. Sherlock didn’t think twice about bursting into his dear friend’s room to excitedly inform him of the success of his new experiment and ended up…well…seeing John mid kiss with a woman he’d never met before

He couldn’t help but stare slack-jawed, completely oblivious to the mortified expressions of his companion and “friend”

But Sherlock had seen far stranger things, so he was able to quickly regain his composure and snap back to his usual self

“John, you should have told me you were going to have a lady friend over! I would have made sure to stay out of the flat for a while.”

“N-No,” John stammered, his tanned face flushing, “I wouldn’t make you leave so that…I…”

“It’s quite all right to want some privacy! Kissing someone is a very intimate affair after all, and I’m not about to ruin my dear Watson’s chances at romance!”

“I–”

“So, whaddya think of John?” Sherlock asked you with a wink. “He’s quite the catch, isn’t he?”

“Sherlock! I thought you just said you were going to give us some privacy…”

“Oh, I agree,” you replied, leaving John and Sherlock wide-eyed at your honest confession. “To be honest, I didn’t expect John to be so…good at his craft.” You winked back at Sherlock, the two of you exchanging smiles. It seems you were already well on your way to gaining the detective’s approval.

“[Name]!” John cried, burying his face in your shoulder. “Don’t start teasing me, too.”

“But you’re so cute when your face turns all red~” you laughed, lifting up his chin with a finger. “Besides, I can tell you like the fact that I take the lead in this relationship.”

Poor John was going to end up as red as a tomato if you and Sherlock kept on like this.

“Well, I’ll be going now. I’ll return in a couple of hours–got some detective work to do and all. Enjoy your kissing. Goodbye!”

As soon as the door clicked shut, John breathed out a ragged sigh. “I was not expecting all this attention today.”

“Shy are we?”

“Please, I don’t know how much more my poor heart can take.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around John’s neck. “I’m sorry. You’re just so cute when you’re like this.”

John pouted his lips, pulling you in closer by your waist. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be saying that.”

“Then say it.”

John’s eyes flickered down to your lips and back to your eyes, silently asking for your permission. You answered his question with a nod and smile, and soon enough, his lips were back on yours, bringing you to a state of unending bliss, whispering sweet nothings reserved just for you.

“Yes,” he said against your lips, unable to hide his smile, “you are quite adorable, darling.”

#guess who's back (for now) :3 #moriarty the patriot #moriarty the patriot x reader #sherlock holmes x reader #louis moriarty x reader #john watson x reader

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