#but right now it's like there's mountains of tasks that need to be done and just looking at them is exhausting

[psi-groovin]

There simply isn't enough time in a 2-day weekend to get everything done, man

[drgnflyteabox]

mdni - the 141 find a cozy place to stay during an op (that's definitely all that happens). implied fat!reader

(dubcon, poly, gangbang, anal, price is in charge of everyone<3)

So blizzards can happen in the blink of an eye on high, isolated mountains, right?

And the 141 have done missions in rural places, snowy places, mountainous places, right?

And there are tons of tiny little isolated towns, all over the world, built around these mountains for one reason or another - coal mining, logging, etc.

Now imagine the 141 on a mission, somewhere cold, somewhere isolated, a place that feels like the edge of the world. Desolate.

Now imagine the 141 seeing, in the near distance, a winking pale orange light. It's a good enough place as any to approach - it isn't safe to be caught in this blizzard, anyhow. Even with their gear, the safehouse is still an hour away and the snowfall seems historic...

Now imagine you're sitting in your family home, all alone, going a little crazy with cabin fever. Your woodstove is burning hot, but you're still cuddled up in knits and a thermal underneath. You're making stew for dinner with root vegetables from the basement cellar, it's bubbling and softening for you while you crochet, trying to keep your mind off the monumental shoveling task you'll have to deal with tomorrow

Until there's a knock on the door.

"Hello ma'am, I'm just wondering if me and my friends here could rest until it's safe to continue our hike?" (I love the way gaz says ma'am)

Hike? Nobody hikes up here - you've only ever seen a couple tourists in your life, thrill seeking ice climbers who came and went.

And they certainly weren't dressed in snow camo, hiding guns behind their backs.

But you were raised right, and the man at the door has kind eyes - he's handsome, too, but you'd never say it out loud. Gaz pushes the door further in when you tentatively open it, and in comes barreling three more massive men, their boots stomping and leaving a mess.

Soap smells the stew on the stove and beelines for it, lifting his helmet to inhale deeply.

Ghost sweeps the room like it might be hiding an enemy somewhere- even though it's one room total, the stove in the middle, separating the kitchen and your bed.

Price approaches you all apologetic, apologizing for "these ruffians", holding his camo helmet to his gut like it's formalwear. "Apologies, sweetheart, we weren't expecting the weather to turn on us."

You aren't quite sure how you end up sitting on prices lap, naked except for your socks, while he squeezes your stomach and grunts in your ear not to be shy when putting your weight on him. His other hand is cupped over your pussy, murming thank yous for feeding his men.

They're eating your stew, stripped out of gear, cocks tented in their white cargos.

"We're a gaggle of lucky boys, eh?" Soap says. "Nice, cozy, soft girl. Warm cabin. A man could get used to this."

You wind up pressed down on your mattress, hands held behind you by one man while another fucks you hard, spurred on by price behind them. At first, it's johnny, whining high in his throat while price guides his hips and gaz holds your arms by your head. "Need to thank her proper, boy." The obvious authority in prices voice makes your pussy clench around him, and he shakes over you, trying hard not to come too early.

Gaz reaches down from where he's holding your arms, pinching your clit until you buck against Johnny and squirt around him.

Then it's gaz, who lifts your legs and squeezes your big thighs, locking eyes with ghost. He's steady, only breaking composure when Simon praises him. "Thats a lad. Good, just like that, Kyle." He's the first to ever make you come from penetration alone, hips moving in a way that makes your abdomen tighten and tighten and tighten until you reach the longest orgasm of your life, nearly crying with how intense it feels.

Price ends up flipping you over - nudging you up on your hands and knees, the bed creaking with the combined weight of he and his lieutenant taking their places in front and behind you.

Simon slips his cock in your mouth, staring down at you through the balaclava. You can barely make out a thick scar, one that looks like it might go through his whole face. You lose focus when price pushes his fingers in your ass, though, and you squeal.

There's no where to run except further down simons cock, though, where you gag, spit running all down your chest onto the bed.

"Shh, sh," Price rubs your flank like you're a spooked animal. He squeezes the ample flesh of your asscheek appreciatively. "Jus wanna give your poor pussy a break, aye? I reckon she's tired,"

He pushes into you impatiently and it burns a little, but he soothes it with a palm over your soft, sore cunt. Rubs a thumb over your clit slowly, jostling you back and forth over simons cock.

You come once more before the night is over, tears finally running down your cheeks, mixing with your saliva, with simons come. It's a painful orgasm, wrenched from you - but that makes it all the sweeter.

They wipe you down and spoon feed you more stew, after, to recover your energy :') price has the boys tidy their boot tracks and put away leftovers while he and Simon hold you from both sides. They can barely fit with you on your bed, but tucked in like this - on top of your furs, naked as the day you were born, praised for your soft body and "What a good girl you are, babydoll."

Sigh

I'm sure this idea has probably been written but I was listening to this and couldn't stop imagining it lmfao

[cxrrodedcoffin]

Close to You - Spencer Reid

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: Spencer is needy and Reader has a work deadline to meet, so they try something new as a compromise.

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: me writing another cockwarming fic? it’s more likely than you’d think ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (no mommy kink this time cuz this feels more mild as far as the sub/dom dynamic goes, maybe next time!)

TW: sub!spencer, softdom!reader, cockwarming, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, creampie, afab reader

Rating: R/18+ (oops all smut)

——

The blue light of your computer screen was starting to make your eyes hurt, the hours of completed paperwork in your rearview feeling like nothing compared to the digital mountain of remaining work for your proposal you still had to complete by the deadline your boss had given you. Working from home certainly had its perks, but right now the only thing you could think of was how much more focused you’d be if you were still in an office.

“How’s work going?” Spencer’s voice broke your train of thought as he turned the corner into your home office.

“It’s fine, I still have a lot to get done.” You sighed, continuing to type away on your keyboard.

“You know, I was reading an article the other day about studies being conducted that explore the long term effects the extended work hours work-from-home jobs require have on the average adult, it went pretty in-depth on how psychologists suspect the lack of separation between work and the home environment can negatively affect the way we prioritize professional work with personal tasks and quality time.” You could tell your boy-wonder was using his vast knowledge to pick an article with a topic that was a bit too on the nose to beat around the bush of his point, but you didn’t know why.

“That’s very interesting Spencer, but why bring that up when you know I can’t stop working?” You questioned, calling his bluff.

“We haven’t had sex in 2 weeks.” He mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear. You knew that, and it was driving you crazy just as much as it was him, but this project was major and if you wanted to get the promotion you had been working so hard to get, you had to set your personal needs aside for a bit.

“I’ll make it up to you once I finish this, I promise.” You weren’t lying, your accidental celibacy had stretched your imagination to some very interesting places, and you couldn’t wait to try those new things with him, but it had to wait, no matter how touch-starved you felt.

“I want you.” He almost whined, taking a couple steps further into your peripheral vision.

“Spencer, you know I need to get this project completed before my deadline tomorrow, I don’t have time for this.”

“But I need…help.” His words were drawn out, his hushed tone piquing your interest. You pushed your chair out, craning your neck to make eye contact with him before his gaze dipped lower and yours followed. The fabric of his pajama pants was pulled taut over his bulge, his fidgeting hands barely restricting your view despite his attempt to hide the evidence of his arousal behind them.

“Oh baby, that must hurt, huh?” You sighed, giving him a sympathetic look before turning back to your work.

“It does, I need you.” He pleaded, coming up behind you to rest his hands on your shoulders.

“You need to take care of it yourself.” Your statement came out more blunt than you intended and a hint of guilt started to pang in your chest, the stress of this deadline was starting to get to you and you didn’t mean to take it out on him.

“I’m sorry to bother you, I know you’re busy, but I already tried and I just made it worse, you feel so much better than my hand does.” He over-explained, continuing to plead his case as his fingers started kneading the sore muscles atop your shoulders.

You mulled over your options, the concept of his admittedly impressive cock filling your neglected cunt sounding all-too appealing in the moment. You knew you couldn’t take the time to fuck him right now, after no sex for two weeks your carnal urges would absolutely take over and you’d wind up ignoring your work for the rest of the night, to the detriment of your employment status. You were about to send him away when an idea popped into your head, something that could be a good compromise to both of your predicaments if done correctly.

“Drop your pants.” You bluntly stated, beginning to stand from your chair. He followed your instruction, a bit confused but too excited to question, always eager to please you. You also stripped from the waist down, ignoring the growing slick between your thighs.

“Sit down.” Came your next instruction, your eyes fixed on his erection, his head blushed pink and dripping with precum. When he was situated you climbed back onto the chair with him, positioning your knees on the suede fabric on either side of his thighs, hips hovering over his member. You reached down, fingers wrapping around his length as you positioned his head at your dripping entrance, reveling in the first sexual contact the two of you had experienced in far too long.

You slowly sank down, your warm walls engulfing his throbbing cock until you were seated fully on his lap, the fullness giving you a sense of satisfaction. Spencer’s breathy sighs and white-knuckled grip on the arms of the chair told you he was enjoying this just as much as you were, but you knew he would want more any second. You on the other hand were always better at controlling your desires, even just this level of intimacy enough to satiate you for the moment.

You relaxed into him, back pressed to his chest as you began your work once again, ignoring the dull ache in your core.

“A-are you going to move?” Spencer’s desperate voice broke the silence after a few minutes of you typing away at your computer.

“No. This is all I have time to give you right now. If you’re a good boy and stay still for me, I’ll let you do whatever you want tonight.” You were curious to see how well he’d do with this. Even though Spencer prided himself on being the smartest in the room at any given time, he wasn’t very good at controlling his urges and it amused you how his composure could disappear if he was desperate enough, particularly around you.

“Okay.” He breathed, seeing the muscles in his arms relax and the grip he held on the chair loosen out of the corner of your eye.

You continued your work, busting your ass to complete your project as quickly as possible. Every once and awhile you’d flex your kegel muscles, your walls contracting around his cock to keep him as hard as possible, teasing him to see how hard you could push his patience.

You grew closer to your last tasks, the end finally in sight when you felt him start to shift under you, hips attempting to thrust up into you. You anchored your hips, holding him down to not break your focus. He let out the most pathetic whine you’d ever heard, running his hand through his hair out of frustration.

“If you move again, you won’t cum tonight. I’m almost done, do not distract me again.” You told him sternly, rocking your hips back one time as an incentive.

“Understood.” He groaned, thighs relaxing beneath you.

You wrapped up the last paragraph of your proposal, satisfied with the work you had done. You could feel Spencer tense when you closed out of the last application and shut off the computer, screen darkening and leaving the two of you bathed in the golden glow of sunset in an otherwise dark room. Instead of finishing him there, you rose off of him, leaving him groaning in desperation.

His cock was covered in your slick, veins throbbing and head almost purple from how desperate he was to cum. You started walking out of the room, finger motioning for him to follow you and he almost tripped over the chair, trailing in your shadow. You found the bedroom, stripping out of your remaining clothing while contemplating what position you wanted him in. Your thighs were starting to burn from sitting in the position you had held for so long, so you opted for good old-fashioned missionary. You laid down on the bed, thighs spread as Spencer pulled off his shirt and waited for your instruction.

“Come here.” The words had barely left your lips and Spencer was already on the end of the bed, crawling up to you like an animal on the prowl.

“Do you want to fuck me, Spencer?” You asked, drawing out his torture just a little while longer.

“Yes please, need to feel your perfect cunt again.” He begged, looking down at you with his big brown eyes.

“Go ahead, but don’t cum until I say so.” You instructed, your hand finding the nape of his neck, tugging lightly on his hair. He moaned, positioning himself at your entrance before thrusting fully into you, his gaze locked on the way your breasts bounced with each desperate thrust into your warm cunt.

His pace remained steady, pounding into you, your pleasure slowly building but not quite hitting the spot you needed him to. You wrapped your legs around his hips, angling your hips up ever so slightly and you couldn’t help but cry out, his cock finally hitting the soft spot inside of you that you’d been craving. He dropped his head into your shoulder, bringing his hand to your pussy to rub firm swipes over your clit, clearly desperately trying to make you cum so he could.

“So close, I don’t know how much longer I can last.” He panted, hips faltering slightly.

“It’s okay baby, don’t stop.” You moaned, too close to care about being firm with him anymore after how good he’d been for you today.

His thrusts became increasingly desperate, driving into you at a pace that had you seeing stars, the combined pressure on your clit sending you over the edge in a blur of white hot ecstasy.

“Spencer!” You cried out, nails digging into his back as you rode out your orgasm, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts.

His moans grew louder, hips stuttering and you could tell he was almost there, but something was holding him back.

“Cum inside me.”

Your request was all he needed to hear, not having to worry about pulling out anymore allowing all of his focus to finally come undone, hot ropes of cum filling your aching cunt. He pulled out of you, collapsing beside you with his head on your chest, long legs almost dangling off the side of the bed. You laid there spent, gently running your fingers through his hair until you both caught your breath.

“Thank you.” He spoke, lifting his head to look you in the eye.

“There's no need to thank me Spence, I’m sorry I’ve been so busy. You were right about overworking, I’ll try to delegate a bit more.” You sighed.

“I just don’t want you to overwork yourself, you deserve to enjoy yourself more often.” He leaned up to pull you into a kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist as you finally got a moment to relax for the first time in weeks.

——

Tag List: @pleasantwitchgarden @lover-of-books-and-tea

DM me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my general or spencer reid taglist :)

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 Losing Game

♡ featuring: ajax x f!reader

♡ summary: simmering feelings boil over as you're confronted by the man you hate the most; tartaglia, your boss. wc: 3.1k+

♡ cw/tw: afab, degradation, humiliation, creampie, squirting, light choking, sadism, throat-fucking, cum play, fingering, overstimulation, brat taming, mind break, pet names (doll, baby)

notes: hiii, the positive response from the last one motivated me to get this done just in time for Fontaine. kinda long this time so sorry abt that. ajax my beloved <3 art by sonomi_rap5 on twitter comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Working for the fatui wasn’t easy in the slightest, especially when you aren’t on harbinger status. You were sent on long, grueling tasks only to be met with loose interpretations of gratitude and sometimes silence from the higher-ups, in which most wouldn’t even glance in your direction. Pleasant beginnings became a sour afterthought, and your perception of the fatui changed drastically. Your grievances, however, weren’t helped by your quick-witted snappy attitude and competitiveness; Presumably why you ended up under the division of Tartaglia. You assumed a binding contract from the capricious redhead wouldn’t mean much, but that was quickly proven false.  

You'd rather climb every mountain in Snezhnaya than spend a minute talking to that airhead. He was instructed to keep a watchful eye on you during missions despite the competence you demonstrated. It was insulting. Anything he did you could do better. It’d been proven multiple times from the petty challenges you created. How much water you could drink, how long you can stay up. You won every time. How could you not hate him? His feigned ignorance and careless flirtations were enough to drive you mad. “Please, call me Ajax” he’d say, winking. The simpering smile he gave you after every comeback shot daggers in your pride. What made you particularly furious was the incessant drum of your heart whenever he was near you. The warm autumn morning that was his hair. The cool still waves his eyes sent to your core. You couldn’t fall for him, or else he’d have one up on you. You had to be stronger than that. You quelled your stress in a tattered journal gifted years ago. 

“Hey, comrade!” His bubbly tone makes knots in your stomach, and you choose to stay silent. You’re hoping this mission will go without a hitch, as long as he doesn’t get in your way. Ajax lets out a teasing whistle. 

“Yeesh, tough crowd.” As you’re collecting the items needed for the deal, he rocks back and forth on his heels directly in front of you, absent-mindedly watching. 

You whip your head to face him, “You can’t see I’m doing something right now?” 

“Oh, I see what you’re doing. But this isn’t entertaining.” 

“Unlike you, your majesty, I have no choice but to be perfect. I apologize if that’s not exciting enough for you.” You retort with sarcastic curtsy.  

“Haha! You’re always a pleasure to be around, (Y/N). My faithful, kind-hearted companion.” he said with a taunting wink. You're beyond flustered, haphazardly stuffing the remains in your bag and lugging it over your shoulder. 

“Let's go.” You say lazily. He follows closely, arms crossed behind his head. “Calling me like a dog, how romantic.” 

“If you don’t want to be called like a dog stop acting like one.” 

“You could at least give me a treat if I'm gonna be your dog.” He looks at you, making his best impression of puppy-eyes. You bite back a few choice words, and glare at him instead. He isn’t fazed by this and flashes a beguiling smile that makes your ears warm. Glancing at the weight you’re shouldering, he comments, “You sure you don’t need any help with that?” 

“No. The last person I need help from is you.” 

You and Ajax regroup in an alleyway deep in Fontaine’s bustling city. You are assigned to retrieve a rare gem for one of Pantalone’s elaborate schemes, and you quickly prepare yourself for this interaction. Ajax studies you, leaning against one of the walls. 

“Can’t you be a little nicer to your superior? If it wasn’t for me, you’d be in a lot of trouble half the time. You’re welcome.” You scoff. “I don’t know why you’re here in the first place, I have no problem doing this on my own.” 

“I’m sure. Don’t mind me, Ms. Independent.” A sly smirk crawled up his face. “Fucking asshole” you mumble under your breath. “I didn’t catch that. Can you repeat it?” 

“I said you’re a fucking asshole.” After a few moments of silence, Ajax grips his chest in feigned agony. “Ouch. I’m gutted!” 

Just as you're about to leave, he snatches your wrist, now only mere inches away from your face. His hand gently brushes away the strays of hair on your forehead. “There you go, doll. Gotta be perfect for your debut.” A whirlwind of emotions strangles your ability to think clearly, you pull your wrist away and start speed walking, attempting to gather yourself before you get to the jewelry store. 

You enter the empty store and are immediately confronted by the jeweler. 

“Good afternoon, ma’am. Do you have an appointment?” You proclaim your business and appointment under a fake identity, posturing yourself as wealthy. “May I see identification please.” Of course, you say. As you’re looking through your purse you notice something: there’s no identification here. Surely you weren’t that negligent over something so simple. You rummaged through the other compartments, trying to stay calm in front of an increasingly concerned jeweler. But it’s not there. How is this possible. Your nerves are heightened and the anxiety of failing the mission starts to creep in. “I made an appointment with Lottie; she’ll be able to provide reference. I believe I left my passport at home.” The jeweler seems slightly disappointed. “Unfortunately, ma’am, I am not allowed to present any gems without identification.” Your heart beats faster. “Well, sir, I’m very busy and I’m afraid this is my only chance to close on this item. You wouldn’t want to push away a well-paying customer.” 

“I have no choice in the matter. If you have no proof of identification, I must ask you to leave.” Should I take it by force? You thought, thinking about the next possible option. As you’re about to handle the rest physically, the door swings open. Ajax comes up to you, placing his arm around your waist.  

“My love, were you able to get the gem we were discussing?” You’re annoyed, but you improvise and look at him as if he’s the love of your life. “Not yet, dear.” Suddenly, he places a plush kiss on your lips. You’re stunned and speechless, filled with anger and wanting. 

The jeweler interjects. “And are you the husband? Would you happen to have any identification.” 

“Yes, sir.” Ajax pulls out a passport and fake birth certificate unbeknownst to you and begins to close the deal. The rest of the meeting you sit speechless. 

“Thank you for your patronage.” are the last words you hear as you leave the store, Ajax guiding you with his hand. You’re silent the whole way back to your room. 

You turn your bag upside down and begin looking for the mismatched documents. All while Ajax stares at you expectingly. You ignore his presence.  

“So... how about a ‘you’re welcome?’” 

“For what.” 

He lets out a mocking laugh. “For what? I don’t know, maybe saving your ass back there? You froze, and you were unprepared, Ms. Independent.”  

“I wouldn’t have forgotten it if it wasn’t for the obnoxious bullshit you did this morning.” 

“That’s dishonest, I wasn’t even talking!” he pretends to be hurt. “Admit that you need me.” 

“Fuck off.” 

“No.” His light-hearted inflection vexes you and makes it hard for you to focus as you read through the mountains of pages in your folder. 

While your head is down, Ajax comes across the tattered notebook just peeking out from under the bed. Storing the months—no years—of feelings you had regarding the fatui. Regarding him. Some time passes and you finally raise your head, met with the horrifying reveal of him skimming through the journal, mischief coating the deep void in his eyes. You spring up and reach for the book but he’s faster, grabbing your arms and pinning them above your head. 

“This is really good stuff... really good.” You shout profanities over and over, anything to get his attention away from the book. But he continues to read as if you’re not there. When he’s done reading, he lets you go, and you instantly try to swing at him. Before you can land a hit, he grabs you by the throat and stares into your soul, almost as if he’s trying to swallow your being. 

“You’ve been acting like a little fucking brat all over a crush? Not very big girl of you.” 

“I know you think you’re beyond charming, but I promise you don’t have that effect on me.” 

“Really? Let’s play a game then.” He knew you’d accept just to beat him at anything. 

“If you don’t cum by the end of this journal, I’ll apologize for everything. I’ll do whatever you want. But if I win-” he steps closer to you, “You have to do everything I say.” 

You almost burst out laughing. Such an easy challenge, how hard could it be? 

You're panting, trying your hardest to focus on the words that seemed to melt off the page. Your back lays comfortably against his chest, with his legs keeping yours spread. 

“Next page, baby.” 

“Don’t call me that.” Your words are lenient and breathy. Your underwear is still on, but Ajax’s fingers are covered in your slick, playing with the erect nub just enough to make you fuzzy. “You look like you’re tapping out.” 

“This? This is nothing” You respond meekly, continuing the reading.  

“I can’t help but have fe-elings for himph.”  

“There’s some nice things about me in here, why aren’t you always like this?” He says, circling and dipping into your gushy folds, smearing the glossy mess all over your vulva. You try so hard to read the letters, squirming from his touch. The sensation pulsing from your clit to your brain made you incoherent; the more you move, the more he moves. The contents of the journal are humiliating, detailing your romantic and sexual attraction towards Ajax, and your attempts to stifle these feelings. He was getting a kick out of seeing your flustered face stammer over his appearance. He plays with the precum glazing his fingers, widening them to watch the trail it left. Only two more pages left. 

“I-I-” You couldn’t get through the first sentence on the last page. Your thighs are trembling, and your pussy began to twitch. “Uh, s-shit. Ajax, wai-.” He trails his fingers over your clit spelling his name, then pushes two inside, fighting back an amused grin. “You’re almost done” Teasing in your ear. You bite back the moans threatening to escape; at the very least you couldn’t give him that satisfaction. He watches you fall apart, shaking more aggressively before your body gives in and you cum on his fingers.  

“Uh oh, that’s unfortunate.” You try your best to catch your breath, but he rides out your orgasm, making you subconsciously grind yourself into his palm. Then you’re struck with the reality of losing. He licks his fingers clean, eyes rolling back from the taste. “So fucking good, does being a bitch make you taste better?” You were too embarrassed from the loss to retort. “You won.” 

“I did.” He lifts you off the bed and onto the floor, your legs still recovering. He hikes your shirt up, trailing kisses up your stomach until he gets to your nipples. He flicks and sucks one while kneading the other one, occasionally biting the slightly bruising flesh. “Not gonna moan for me, huh baby?” 

“Not in the slightest.” You rasped. He smiles and blows cool air on your tits, sending a rippling feeling down your back. “That’s okay, you’ll give in.” 

Ajax unbuttons his pants, and they drop in front of you. Unsheathing his thick throbbing length, drooling with desire. His balls are full and heavy, and as you look up at him his eyes are clouded with lust. The pretty freckles that dotted his arms and chest are much more visible now, and so are his battle scars. He breathed in deep, "take care of this for me, yeah?” You wanted to say no and say fuck this; but there was another side that wanted him desperately, that needed this.  

You force your jaw open to accommodate his size and push yourself halfway on his girth, feeling his cockhead hit the back of your throat. Once you feel like you got it in, you slobber all over his cock, dampening his balls and begin to bob your head. You stroke with one hand and massage his sack with the other, leading to a breathy whimper from him. “Ah fuck, feels good. Suck it slow, slut.” You begin to move faster while cupping his balls, obscene noises leaving your sopping mouth. You have tears running down your sweating face trying to keep up with the vigorous movement of your tongue. You feel him throb a few times, his moans and grunting getting progressively louder.  

“Need more” is all he says, putting one of his legs on the bed and grabbing both sides of your head. Before you can register what’s happening. Ajax pushes your head onto his cock until your nose reaches his pubes. He lets out a breathy sigh and starts throat fucking you with an animalistic grip. The gagging and spit noises echo off the walls, along with his continuous whimpering. You wanted to hate him, but your blood was buzzing, and your panties were drenched. “Shut up and take it” followed by broken fuck’s and yes’s. He threw his head back, hair slicked and torso gleaming with sweat, “look at me.” You reluctantly look up, addicted to his passionate expression. “I want you looking at me when I cum.” You grip his thighs, and he twitches a few times before spurting white, thick cum down your throat. He pulls out slightly to drag his semen over your lips and then taps it on your face, holding you in place.  

“What are you doing? Clean me up.” he husked. You clean him up without complaint and lick your lips, forced to maintain eye contact with him the entire way.  

In one swoop, Ajax picks you up and throws you on the bed, eager to get your underwear off. “You proved your point, stop being an ass" you slurred out. The room was intoxicating, all you could smell and feel was him. He takes your panties off, spreading your pussy to watch the slippery puddle dribble down your thighs. He shoves your panties in your mouth, “Fucking liar, I know you like it. Can’t taste how wet you are?” He aligns himself with your aching hole, keeping your arch steady with you bent over. Shoving his cock in, moaning from the feeling of your body perfectly molding for him. Ajax starts moving at a rapid pace quickly, his big slender hands tightly gripping your ass. The sound of wet sticky skin slapping together and the squelching from your core made you shudder. It was all too much; you have been teetering on an orgasm since you went down on him, and the way his balls thump your clit make you quiver.  

“Whiny brat. Just needed to be fucked good to shut up, yeah?” he groaned through his words. Tears were coming down your eyes now, you can’t tell if he’s edging you by accident or on purpose. But right now, you’d do anything. He turns your head to face him, gazing at your tear-stricken face. “Aww, you cryin’ for me?” He stops to kiss and lick your tears, delighted by your tenderness. Taking the panties out your mouth, he brings your body flush with his and continues to pump inside with you looking at him.  

“So sweet all of a sudden, where’d that attitude go?” The morals you had for moaning went missing and mewls and soft whimpers began to leave you. “Let it out, baby.” You’re suddenly babbling please’s begging for him to let you have it. “Pathetic, can’t even get off on your own. You need me that bad?” You nod repeatedly, dangerously close to your release. He had a dark look in his eyes and a sinful smirk. “Yeah? Okay, you’ve been so good.” He reaches down and starts to rub your clit ceaselessly, kissing your cheek. Your whimpers become loud shaky moans and he finally lets you have it, shockwaves going through your body as you’re dissolved into pleasure. You pulsate through the explosion, jello-brain and boneless as your cum leaks down his thighs. Just as he pulls out and flips you over. You’re dizzy and drunk off him, legs shaking indefinitely from the intensity. Then he puts it back in. “You can take one more, yeah baby?” Your overstimulated and violent shaking wasn’t enough for him to stop. He wanted you ruined. He keeps going, grabbing your face to kiss you deeply, tongues intertwining with each other. He feeds you deep strokes, tip prodding your spot every time and watching as your tits bounce. You throw your head back, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. You have no thoughts, only his name rings in your head. You can feel the coil inside you winding up, pleasure beyond the searing pain of your swollen pussy. He looks down at you and smiles.  

“Look at me." You can’t hear anything at this point, not even the sound of your own voice. So, it’s a pleasant surprise when your voice carries his name, “Ajax, Ajax”, chanting as if he’s your god. “Fuck. Gonna cum. Let it out. baby” he says grinning. You’re clamping him so tight and throbbing until you ultimately shatter with him, releasing a stream of squirt onto him and the sheets. He bucks into you, letting out thick spurts, panting heavily as he watches you in disarray. You instinctively hold on to his arms, trembling uncontrollably as you try to search for breath and ride it out. You’re completely hysterical and sobbing from the emotion it ripped into you. You were in shambles and Ajax couldn’t help but smile out of happiness for what he caused. “I’m so sorry.” you say repeatedly, eyes shut and lined with tears. He got closer to wrap you in his arms, and you cling to him for stability. “It’s okay, I’m here for you.” 

You didn’t want to talk about it when you woke up. You were hoping he’d be gone, and therefore wouldn’t have to deal with the humiliation. But there he was, watching you sleep just as the sun rose. His ginger hair danced with golden flecks of light, and he looked at you like you were the only person on Teyvat. 

“Creep.” 

  “Good morning to you too, baby~.” 

[theminecraftbee]

Etho and Grian are back at base, hysterically laughing over their achievement. Cleo sits inside, staring, as the two of them talk about getting a wither and a warden to fight, and tries to figure out what she feels about it.

In some ways it's not their fault. Task made them do it and all that. Plus--

Well, it's not like she and Etho are losing hearts anytime soon. They've both done a damn good job keeping themselves from dying. A benefit, Cleo thinks, of deciding to team with Etho this time. Between the two of them, they'll largely only do chaos they can recover from. Maybe this is their game. Maybe this time, Cleo manages to stick with someone until the very end. It looks like it. It looks like...

Grian, of course, is the confounding factor.

She wasn't going to turn him away. He needed allies. They needed someone a bit better at actually doing damage than herself or Etho. It's mutually beneficial. And, besides, he's weirdly lovable, in an inherently kind of dangerous way. A little like loving a bobcat someone had accidentally raised as a pet cat until it got a bit too big and stinky and murdery for them. Like, yeah, he shouldn't be domesticated and he's not, really, in any sense of the word, but it's a bit sad to watch him try to survive on his own now, right?

Hah. Maybe that's what Scar managed to do to him. Would explain a lot, really.

Anyway, he's her bobcat now, which is the problem.

See the thing is: Cleo understands Etho. It's why finally deciding to be partners for once felt... right. They're similar flavors of people. Scared, mostly. Survivors, but not in the 'will stab anyone' way that like, Martyn is. Loyal, although Cleo has no delusions that Etho is as loyal as she. And scared. Has she already said that? Scared. It's important to the kinds of things she and Etho are. Like... mountain lions, maybe. Mountain lions that have been around just enough people to know how dangerous they are. Like that.

God, she's only doing cat metaphors. Bdubs really is turning them all into furries.

Anyway, the point is, Grian isn't scared.

And that... terrifies her.

That's scarier than anything else. Because, see, Cleo wants to survive. But more than that, she wants her partners to survive. And she and Etho, the two of them are doing well. Better than most people. They're green and they have so many hearts.

But Grian? Grian's yellow and not afraid and goading Etho into not being afraid too. It's not their fault, exactly, Cleo thinks. They both had hard tasks. They didn't have a choice, Cleo thinks.

But. But.

She doesn't know what to do, if Etho gets convinced the humans down the mountain aren't scary. She doesn't know what to do if he gets too close. She doesn't know what to do if he gets hurt.

Because she--she doesn't think she can learn to stop being scared, anymore.

But she also doesn't know how many times her heart can stand to lose someone.

Did you know--wild cats are social? They have a reputation for being loners, but mountain lions, they're social. They don't do well being alone. They don't actually hunt solely alone. That's the important bit here. They seem independent, sure, but actually...

Anyway. This is Bdubs's fault. For making her a furry, apparently.

She watches Grian and Etho scheme together and sits back and breathes and tells herself that Etho isn't going to stop being afraid anytime soon. That if push came to shove, he, at least, would retreat back, and that maybe the two of them could convince Grian to retreat too. Safe from hunters. Safe from red.

Maybe safe from hurting each other, too.

(She's not so sure about that part.)

[genderless-naper]

love that makes you sick

trafalgar law x gf!reader, established relationship

lowercase intended !

fluff, sfw, word count: 2.1k

an argument leaves law looking for you out in a blizzard where he might catch a cold

the white cast the snow left on the new found island made it one of the prettiest islands you’ve seen. the submarine was docked at the shore. everyone was busying themselves with tasks such as restocking inventory, buying food, cleaning up, and so on. everyone had to finish chores before they can explore the town and island, as per captains usual orders.

you were busy with your usual task of taking count of medical supplies. you were organizing the pill drawer when law walks into the room. you greeted him with a smile which he looked past on. you noticed the tattooed figured man was looking more tense than usual. this raised a concern for you, “is everything okay baby? you look more than usually stressed.”

he looks at you and holds his hand out, “i need the inventory sheet. you did the counts wrong last time.” this was the first he’s told you of this problem, “i did the counts wrong? no im sure didn’t. if they were wrong then why didn’t you say anything about it last time..?”

law takes the sheet, and response as he skims through what you’ve written down, “i didn’t notice i was out of gauze until shaichi decided it was a good idea to see how fast he can hit a knife between his fingers” law rubs his temples as he remembers the predicament.

you shook your head, “i’m certain i did them right! its not my fault the crew members decide to test their luck with playing with knives” you responded with a bit of attitude as you rolled you eyes. law tried his best to stay neutral. he picked up the job he decided you were unable to do. you wouldn’t sit around and be blatantly told you didnt know how to do something you’ve always been tasked with doing. you grab the sheet back and continue from where you left off.

you can feel his gaze piercing you as you try your best to hold your composure.

“y/n-ya i can do them myself. just give them to me.” he says in a more stern tone. you shook your head, “i refused to believe i messed up!”

“im not going to go back and forth with y-“

you interrupt law by shushing him. he looked at you in disbelief. he wasn’t expecting you to literally shush him like he was a child. in no world would law believe that he, as a captain, would be shushed at by his subordinate.

to ease the tension in the air you try talking about the new island. you asked questions to which you received no response. after your fourth question you were fed up with his lack of responses and turned back towards him.

this time he had a look of anger he tried (and failed) to hide. he passively made a remark, “maybe if you werent so hardheaded and actually listened sometimes i wouldnt have so many issues in the medical room.”

you were taken aback from his sudden statement, but refused to let him have the upper hand in the conversation, “maybe if you weren’t so prideful and actually communicated what you needed instead of expecting me to read your mind you wouldn’t be fussing so hard right now!”

law raised a brow. it wasnt unlike you to fire back remarks. he’d seen it with the crew members when you’d all have disagreements, but he’d never expected them to be aimed at him. with his irritation growing by the second he took back the sheet, “go help someone else. i need to be the one who does the jobs in the medical room so i can know theyre done correctly.”

you scoff, “done correctly?? fine then! im leaving and exploring at the island. have fun being cooped up by yourself!” you pushed past your boyfriend, and exited the room without looking back at him.

you put on your winter gear knowing it would be a little chilly out, and headed out to explore the unknown. you walked through the town and into the meadow. snow capped mountains and sheets of paper white snow with blades of grass peaking through were visible to the eye. you noticed snowflakes scatter the sky and they fell. soon after though there seemed to be an influx of snowflakes falling. the wind’s gusts were picking up as well. you admired the scenery unaware of a possible snow storm heading your way.

on the submarine law was busying himself with your tasks. he didn’t know what came over him when he spoke with you. maybe it was the built up stress, maybe it was having to police the crew mates from fighting, or maybe he was just cranky because he missed being with you. nonetheless he still pushed you away. he figured it was at least good for you to get a break. he made mental note to apologize to you once you were back.

he continued through the tasks while making minimal progress. with every mistake he made he remembered how he’d seen you do them routinely since you joined his crew. truth be told you probably did it better than him, but thats something he would never admit out loud. he decided to take a break and go out to see if the crew had finished their tasks.

some were still working on their chores, and some were no where to be seen. law knew it had been a while since you left so he asked the crew if you had come back yet. ikkaku shook her head and penguin replied, “y/n went left a few hours ago. wouldn’t speak to us. she seemed kinda mad i guess?”

at that moment shachi runs into the room, “did you guys seen the snow outside?! its like a blizzard! its so cool!”

law was taken aback, “a blizzard?? are you sure y/n is still out there? you didn’t see her come back at all?” worry slowly creeped up the captains chest. the thought of you being out in the snow storm alone tortured him. he didn’t want to think about the possibility of you getting sick or hurt.

shachi shook his head, “i couldn’t see anyone out there captain” the concern was too much for the tattooed man to handle anymore. he made sure alert the crew to be on watch for your arrival. he headed out into the snow fall with urgency. he only made one mistake: he left without any proper clothing or gear to protect him against the harsh weather. the only thought on his mind was to find you and make sure you were safe. being cold was the least of his worries.

he hastily traveled through town in search of you. he called out your name and looked everywhere. he was left standing in front a cafe with lights on and smoke escaping its chimney. a man on the inside saw law standing in the snow fall. he opened the door and called out for him, “what are you doing out in this storm?! get in here before it carries you away!”

law ignored the man and continued to look around in search of you. the man yelled out urging him to once again take cover inside the building. the tattooed man looks at the building once more just to find a glimpse of you through the window sitting at a table.

relief flooded him like a wave. he just couldn’t contain himself. he decided to shambles his way into the cafe. you jump at his sudden appearance, “oh baby you scared me! what are you doing out in the snow? uh.. why aren’t you wearing a jacket..?”

your boyfriend looked as cold as a brick of ice. he hadn’t notice the dangerous cold outside until he was hit with heat from the cafe that hugged him like a heated blanket. you urged him to sit down, and put your jacket over his shoulders. you put your gloves on him and placed your hot cocoa in front of him, “law you look like a mess..”

you ruffled snow off his hat and examined his face which was a shade of pink due to the harsh cold. especially the tips of his ears and nose. he held your hands tight in fear that you’d slip away from him again. he spoke so quiet that barely you could hear, “i’m really sorry y/n. i’m just glad you’re okay. i don’t know what i would have done with myself if you got hurt out there. i shouldn’t have made you leave like that…”

you squeezed his hands with a sigh, “i’m okay darling. you’re the one thats not okay. you’re bound catch a cold. it was so reckless of you to leave the submarine like it was 90 degrees. look, your nose is already running!”

you grabbed a napkin and quickly wiped your poor boyfriends nose. you couldn’t help but feel bad for his current state.

he pulled you onto his lap and hugged you tight. your body felt like a heater against his ice cold state. he buried his face into your neck for the added warmth. he stayed like this until the snow storm blew down.

you both made your way back to the polar tang. once inside law immediately pulls you towards your shared bedroom. the whole way back to the submarine he was a coughing sneezing mess. it wasn’t surprising to see he got a cold.

you urged your sick boyfriend into bed but he refused to without you. you huffed, “look who’s the hardheaded one that doesn’t listen now” you huffed as you referenced the original conversation that started this whole mess.

your boyfriend shook his head and held your hand, “i want you to be in bed with me at least..” he stared at the ground to avoid eye contact. his pink tipped ears poking through his black ruffled hair. it was unlike him to be so straightforward when talking to you about what he wanted. maybe the recent events gave him a change of heart.

nonetheless you guided him into bed and pulled the blanket up to cover him, “let me bring you some tea, okay baby? ill be right back” you tell him and you stroke his hair. the tattooed man looks away from embarrassment and tries to put on his cool act again, “i’m fine y/n. go help the others with chores”

you giggled at his attempt to recover his stoic facade, “my chore now is to take care of my idiot boyfriend who doesn’t think when stepping out into snow storms”

you lean down and press a soft kiss onto his lips. its the kind of kiss that leaves law yearning for more. it was the kind of kiss that could comfort the sickest person. your soft lips pressing against his repeats in his mind as you leave to bring him tea and medicine. you spend the rest of the night taking care of him and then being dragged back into bed to cuddle with him. you lost track of how many tissues you’d have to use for your sick boyfriend, but theres nothing you’d rather do than be the one to take care of him especially when he’s the one to take care for you.

not once does he loosen his arms which are wrapped around you. he refuses to let you slip away from him again. it was a mistake he would never do twice. he just avoided eye contact. you smiled at how vulnerable your boyfriend was able to be with you today. how his walls were as low as you’ve ever seen them be. you couldn’t help but feel so lucky to be loved by this man knowing no other person will experience law the way you get to experience him at that moment.

“hey baby..?” you spoke softly to him. he hums as he looks at you with a slightly tired expression. you cup his cheeks and lean in for another kiss; this time more passionate and deeper than before. law has a slight grip on your hips as he eases into your kiss. he never wants it to end. he pulls you closer, and as you try to separate from the kiss he just continues on by kissing down your jaw and to your neck. you giggle at his loving demeanor and stroke his hair. he nuzzles his head into your neck, and secures you to him to make sure you wont be able to slip away in the night. your warmth like sweet nectar to him.

[vhaos-chaotic-writing]

D-16 Megatron (TFO) x Cybertronian!Reader Pt. 2

Someone asked if there was going to be a part 2 of this and the answer is hell yeah. ヽ(✿ﾟ▽ﾟ)ノ Gender Neutral Cybertronian Reader!

Also, importante message in general - please do not spam my askbox. I've already recieved, in a row 5 asks/requests from a same user. It is kind of annoying, feels like you are pressuring me to do more than I already do and that doesn't sit me well. So, user who is doing this, do not keep doing it or I'll block you. Thanks.

WARNING: Spoilers from the movie (Transformers One 2024). Angst and more angst. Forbidden love scenario.

Days have been... good. To say at least.

Being guided by Optimus Prime, Elita One and Bumblebee's to fight against the Quintessons. Meanwhile, Iacon and Cybertrone was slowly picking up its true, beautiful colors and life seemed brighter for everyone after finally getting their T-cogs and feel complete.

... then, why do you feel.. empty?

It was stupid - you have now your T-cog, of course! And yet...

You try to not think about it too much - you decide to keep yourself focused on your tasks, helping others, and so on. But whenever the night arrives and you are alone in your berth...

"Primus, please... if you are out there - keep D-16 safe and sound. Please." You pray, holding your servos against your chestplate.

With the pass of the days you started to accept the fact that D-16 was no longer there, but it was Megatron who had now his face.

Things were getting better, but also tense at the same time, as from time to time, if they haven't done it on that day Megatron was vanished from Iacon, bots who started to think like him left Iacon by choice to look after the leader they wanted.

You remained on the Autobot's side - your spark longed for the mech you used to love, but you knew he was no longer the sweet, kind D-16 you used to know.

But - you wanted to see him. You needed to see him. Even if it was dangerous or that you might not live another day to tell - you needed to see him.

And little did you know how much Megatron silently suffered to himself as he couldn't forget you. And he, too, wished to see you again. His spark would cry too, wishing to see once again the same cybertronian that he fell in love years ago.

Alas - if something happens then it meant it was what Primus wanted to happen...

You were tasked to go out with a group of autobots to swap places with another group who stayed on the surface in other to keep track on any kind of Quintesson activity... or Decepticon, too.

"Arcee, in position" - "Prowl in position, too!" - "Me too - I mean, Blurr too!"

"(Y/N) in position as well." You add, followed by another one of your teammates through the audio connection. 1 solar cycle to be out there and keep an optic on everything until the next team arrives to swap places with yours. Thankfuly, for the past days, any type of Quintesson activity was nearly none - Primus bless Optimus, Elita and Bumblebee - but all of you wanted to be sure, just in case.

You were relatively far away from your team, moving between tall mountain alike structures, your right servo transformed in your (weapon of choice).

The sound of a heavey step made you quickly turn around, aiming your weapon with a serious expression - to quickly change into one of surprise.

Megatron stares at you and slowly start walking towards you. And you remain frozen in place, slowly lowering your weapon - until the sound of the audial connection being activated. Megatron freezes in place.

"Arcee to (Y/N) - I lost for a moment your location, everything okay?"

Megatron keeps his optics locked with yours, thinking you were going to give out his presence... You press the small audial device on your helm to answer. "(Y/N) to Arcee - affirmative. The structures are doing that glitch - but all fine."

After turning off the audial connection, Megatron runs to you as you open wide your arms, your weapon transforming back into your arm. And the big mech hugs you close, as you hug him back. In silence, you hold each other, his faceplate hidding against your helm as you do as well against his chestplate.

"... I missed you." You whisper, scolding at yourself for saying that - feeling weak. But how could you not say those words when you have been longing for him?

"I've missed you, too." Megatron confesses, moving to gently press his forehelm against yours, closing his red optics as you close your own. "I thought I was never going to see you again."

"... Why did you do it?" You ask, spark hurting.

Megatron looks at you with softened optics, knowing what were you talking about - killing Sentinel Prime in a brutal way when he was already defeated, wanting to destroy Iacon, making a promise to become the sole true leader that was going to guide everyone and whoever stood on his way was going to be offlined. "I did it for our people, for us - Optimus was not going to make Sentinel suffer the consequences he deserved after all the torture he made us go through, (Y/N)..."

You should be angry - Primus, you should be yelling at him and fighting for his violent ways, for not understanding what he was doing was the same thing Sentinel was doing. Alas, all you do is let your optics fill with energon and cry softly as Megatron holds you close.

"I wanted to know you more! I - I wanted to be your friend! Fall in love with you - become your Conjux!" You confess, crying that life you wished for the moment you two met. "I wanted to become yours and you become mine!"

The Decepticon leader tries to not to cry, forcing himself to remain strong. Megatron blamed himself because... how could he give you those things you were wishing between the two of you now that he was the enemy? And he knew he couldn't ask you to follow him, to join the Decepticons - even when he wanted to take you with him, he wasn't going to take away your freedom, not after having that being taken away by the false Prime since everyone's birth.

"I love you." Megatron suddenly confesses, holding your helm with his servos, your optics once again finding each others. "The moment I saw you in that busy day - I knew you were the one who I wanted to bond with, become his Conjux and have our sparks meet the other. I love you, (Y/N) - and... I'm so sorry for having ruin our future."

Your spark fluttered and felt warm, whole. Complete.

Holding his helm back, you kissed him. And he kissed you back.

And that same night you two became the Conjux Endura of the other. And while it hurt you to leave him, and for him to leave you to go back to your respective places - your spark still felt complete.

Whenever you are alone, you place a servo on your chestplate, where your spark rests, and feel. I love you.

And, in silence, you feel his I love you, back.

In silence, you await for the day you get to be back in Megatron's arms. And hope, and pray to Primus, for the war to end and be by his side, one way or another.

I'm not sobbing you are sobbing. /(ㄒoㄒ)/~~ Vhaos out!

[goddessesofeverything]

Your Song Fills the Empty Cracks in My Bones

Skully J. Graves x GN!Reader/Yuu

Yeah...The New Guy got to me...

If you'd prefer to read it on AO3, it's there too :3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/59525989

Halloween Town was alight with fright and mischief as its denizens eagerly buzzed around preparing for their cherished holiday. As the town’s band prepared a jaunty tune to liven up the spirit, they paused seeing a certain newcomer swiftly make their way right toward them. A jittery gait to his step, they watched him as he halted just a couple feet away. 

“Esteemed musicians of Halloween Town!” Skully J. Graves greeted with a bow. He pushed his glasses back up his nose as he rose. “So sorry to trouble you in the middle of your work, but might I inquire if you happened to spot one of the lovely dears that accompanied me pass by this way?”

The musicians looked to each other, not quite sure how to answer. 

“Ah, pardon me. I meant the one usually accompanied by the small cat.”

“Ohh…” the musicians nodded in understanding then. “Your little friend went that way,” the saxophonist jabbed a thumb to the direction of the town’s entrance gate. 

“Thank you!” They curiously watch as Skully bowed again, before speeding away to the gate. Through his glove, he lightly bit his nail as he waited for the gatekeeper to let him out of town. The musicians commenced their performance after he left. 

“To think of just walking out at such a critical time,” Skully muttered. “What could they possibly be doing…!”

Skully overheard his traveling companions mention that their “Ramshackle Prefect” was nowhere to be found after completing some of their given tasks. There’s still so much to be done, though! They couldn’t just simply up and flit away when Halloween was only days away. He made it his own mission to find the Prefect and hurry them straight back. I mean, it also wouldn’t do to wander off alone, of course. 

As he made it to the graveyard by Spiral Mountain, Skully began to hear something odd carried through the wind. At first, he thought he somehow heard the musicians back in town. But, no. It sounded like someone singing. 

Lala…lalaa…lalalalala…

Was it the screaming pumpkins? As he got closer to the mountain, the bespectacled boy realized someone was standing at its peak. What were they doing…

Ah. He could hear it more clearly now. The figure on the mountain was singing. He did not hear any lyrics. The tune carried vocally—melodic and haunting. 

He could see now. The Prefect was alone, vocalizing next to the moon. 

Perfect. Now he just needed to call to them, and bring them back to town. Yet, as Skully tried to make his way to do so, something itched at him. Something was against him doing it. He watched the Prefect be completely absorbed in their own world. Their voice carried out in a soft vibrato, and produced a sweet, yet melancholic tune. It was quite beautiful. 

…It couldn’t hurt to let the Prefect finish. 

Skully didn’t consider how awkward he must look watching from below. He couldn’t really care. Not when he was enraptured by this impromptu performance. 

The Prefect’s silhouette was captured so enchantingly under the moonlight. Like a shadow on the moon taking the form of a lone, dark ghoul. Lamenting its sorrows to the piercing night. It only added to their loveliness. All the while, their voice carried through the graveyard, sharing its woes to the beyond. Skully, though, was the only one with the honor of being a living, breathing soul among them. Captured by all the Prefect gave them. 

Yet, it was over before it even began. With a final note, the Prefect had already ended their song. Skully sighed in bliss as the proverbial curtains drew to a close. But, that felt much too fast! Perhaps he could request another…

Both Skully and the Prefect were snapped out of their trance with the familiar bark of a certain ghost dog. 

Adrenaline kicked into Skully, and he dove behind a gravestone large enough to hide his tall figure. Zero whooshed past him, barking for the Prefect’s attention as he floated up the mountain. 

“Hello, Zero!” the Prefect cheerfully greeted the ghost dog. Skully peeked from behind the grave to continue watching the two. Zero was enthusiastically nuzzling into their affectionate pats. “What brings you here?”

“Bark bark!” Zero gestured his head toward the town. 

“Oh, are people looking for me?”

“Bark!” Zero nudged at the Prefect. 

“Okay, okay, boy!” They spared one last glance to the moon, before a small sigh escaped them. “Guess I gotta go back now…?” 

The Spiral Mountain unfurled itself so that the Prefect could walk down. With a kind smile, they thanked the animated mountain, and quickly made their way down the mountain. Skully shied away into the shadow of the gravestone, watching on as the Prefect followed Zero back to town. 

As the duo trotted away, Skully let out the breath he subconsciously held onto. Leaning back against the gravestone, he grasped at his chest, feeling his heart flutter in a flurry of emotions. 

Could it be…

He just emulated his beloved idol! To be captivated by the sweet, solemn music as the one who’s captured your heart serenaded you atop the Spiral Mountain…It’s just like the stories said! Skully could feel his face warm in elated joy. His hands made their way to cover his cheeks, and he lightly bounced in place like a giddy school girl. Truly, his lovely dear was a blessing—inadvertently granting him a chance at recreating such an iconic moment in his own story. Does that mean he was the esteemed Sally to the Prefect’s Pumpkin King? Or was it the other way around?

Doesn’t matter!

Rejuvenated by his self-affirmations, Skully readjusted his glasses and suit, and began a cheerful gait back to town himself. Plucking a dark rose from a lone bush on the way. He had to thank that sweet, lovely dear for the performance of a lifetime, after all. One he so gladly was a part of, whether they knew it or not. 

It must’ve simply been meant to be. 

[saintslewis]

❝ 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 - 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒 ❞

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!reader

summary: when he comes back from arguably most demanding races of the season, he truly wants to be cuddled up with his girlfriend especially when they haven't seen each other in two weeks.

warnings: established relationship!, mild smut (18+ MDNI), cussing. the usual. typos.

wc: 2.6k

requested: yes | no ~ this lovely request right here!

saint team radio: i wanna scream, this was supposed to be out in SEPTEMBER!!! but now it’s here 🤭. lil one shot before releasing “Break my Soul” and i hope you guys enjoy this one. plus i’m getting used to writing smut now 😧 anyways bye! love ya!

taglist: @non-stop-imagines @lorarri @thisismeracing @httpsserene @mauvecherie-writes @yeea-nah @queenshikongo3 @cherry2stems @planetmimi @alika-4466 @arshiyuh (lmk if you wanna be tagged!)

pls like, comment and reblog! 🫶🏽 (i’m watching you 🤨)

-

"I know what you are." You gasped as you watched Bella confront Edward in the forest. The morning sun was shining its rays through the large windows and sliding doors of the large house. The couch was slowly sinking you into it, the packet of cookies from your favourite bakery nestled next to your comfortable figure.

Understandably, it was quite early in the morning, 9 am to be precise, to be watching Twilight and munching on cookies but to be fair, Roscoe had woken you up for early morning snuggles. Deciding to check the time on your phone, you became distracted by your wallpaper of Lewis with you next to him with the green mountains of Bali right behind you both, flowers behind your ear to celebrate your birthday.

You truly missed him a lot, these past two weeks felt as if they dragged on and on the longer you waited to see him. Only being able to see him on your phone screen and tv, his fashion becoming a staple for you to follow almost every week. When his face appeared on screen for a post race interview, you would find yourself admiring him and completely closing off to whatever he was saying into the mics. Even seeing his car drive around gave you butterflies, just hearing his name would make you stop in your tracks every single time.

Lewis' face quickly invaded your mind, no longer focusing on the movie before you. Although you had tried to distract yourself with giving yourself tasks to do along with completing some work you probably missed, doing those things were just always better with your boyfriend around. Physically being on each other's space was something you needed desperately, a true connection when realising that you both had the love language of physical touch.

During these two week, you would resist the urge to touch yourself in thought of Lewis, deeming him to be the only one who could find your sweet spots so much better than you could. Embarrassingly enough, you had resorted to watching fan edits of him just for you to feel something. All you did was like a single video on your feed then you fell into the rabbit hole of his fans being extremely talented and feeling the way you felt but you would sleep better knowing that you had him all to yourself at the end of the day.

Snapping you out of your daily daydream about your boyfriend, your phone buzzed with a notification from the front gate of the house to say that a car has entered the driveway and you immediately jumped up in excitement, alerting Roscoe. "Come on boy, Dads is home." You smiled to the energetic dog who was eagerly waiting for you to put your slides on.

Opening the front door wide enough, Roscoe ran right past you to greet Lewis as the man was taking his luggage out of the trunk, giving his affection to his dog before standing up straight (with a bit of caution) to look at you standing just a few feet away. He studied you from head to toe, the Nike pro shorts were barely visible underneath the +44 sweater that you helped design. Your braids were fresh, nails done and from what he saw, a small but new tattoo on your hand and he swore his stomach flipped at the sight of you.

"Hey baby!" You expressed as you threw your arms around his neck, his head buried itself into your neck and your scent filled up his nostrils. "Hi." The tired voice vibrated through your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His large hands were resting on your lower back moving ever so slowly, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. Moving your heads back, you gave him a sweet peck as he looked into your eyes afterwards. Studying his face a little, his eyes were a little droopy and his face wasn't as bright as you saw it on facetime hours ago. Letting go of the hug, you moved to help him with his suitcases but noticed that he seemed to walk a little funny as he walked into the house.

Finding him in the kitchen drinking a glass of water, you chose to lean back into the counter next to him. "Knowing you, I can tell you didn't eat so how about you go shower and i'll make breakfast?"  You suggested and all the man could do was smile and lean in to kiss you, tasting your strawberry chapstick before going upstairs with his hand on his back.

-

A hearty breakfast and him talking about how the race went in terms of strategy then a few discussions of random stuff, you both opted for chilling on the couch to catch up on a bit of TV. Lunch was ordered and you two spent the afternoon just being in each other's presence. You then decided to showcase the clothes you had bought during the two weeks he had been gone, each dress and skirt getting shorter than the last with his exhaustion preventing him from wanting to take you right then and there.

Changing back into the original outfit you had on, he quickly changed into his gym wear to work out in the home gym he had built in before you had moved in. "Will you be okay to workout, Lew?" You asked, filling the glass with small heart shaped ice cubes, ironically matching the tennis bracelet you were wearing. "I'm fine sweetie, I promise." He muttered as his eyes trailed down to your chest, the +44 sweater long gone as the day became hotter. "Eyes up here, babe." You giggled as he didn't even seem to hear you say anything.

"What?" He snapped out of it, making you laugh a little harder. "Go do your workout stuff, you dork. When you come back, we can do some skin care." You smiled as he held your hips with his grip tightened. "I can think of something else-"

"Lewis, I'm gonna bite you. Go." You narrowed your eyes at the man who walked away giggling as if he heard the funniest joke.

Nighttime was slowly approaching and dinner was already prepared, finding pesto really easy to make. Lewis was still in the home gym, your phone buzzing with instagram telling you that he posted on his story. Clicking on it, you saw how your boyfriend took a full body mirror picture with his shirt completely off and he looked a bit breathless. The lights glistened on his abs and tattoos, accentuating his tan even more. The v line was showing as his shorts sat quite low on his waist and you were left speechless, gripping the blanket so much that you could barely feel your hand anymore. Rubbing your thighs together, you tried to relax your thoughts by reminding yourself that he still has what seemed like an injury on his back.

But to be fair, nothing could stop him, not even an injury.

You tried distracting yourself from the instagram story by playing some music and doing some online shopping. Hearing his heavy footsteps enter the room, his sweaty self looked at you with a look you knew all too well but you decided to not do the deed tonight because you thought he needed to be well rested for this.

"You gonna go shower?" You stopped what you were doing and faced him with crossed arm with a little smile on your face. He came a bit closer and you backed up. "Lew, get away. You're sweaty." Your cheeks started to hurt from the smiling and all he did was open his arms as he came closer to you. "Lewis, I'm so serious. Babe wai-" You didn't even finish your sentence before you bolted, heading up to your shared bedroom and he chased after you with both your giggles filling the air.

"Baby, stop moving. I can't put on the under eye mask." You pouted, holding the cold cucumber scented applicator in your hand. "It's just cold." He muttered, holding the back of your legs as you stood between his legs. "C'mon gramps, it'll take like 5 minutes then you'll forget it's there." Knowing how he'd react to the nickname, you received the nastiest side eye you've gotten from him. Doubling down in laughter, you held onto the bathroom sink counter for dear life as you continued to laugh with him.

As the laughter died down, you fixed your braids into a bun and put your hand out for him to give up his hair tie that he has had on the whole day. "I like your earrings, love. When'd you get them?" He asked, now standing behind you as you made eye contact in the mirror. His eyes still had the same look as when he came out of the gym. "Remember that one bracelet you brought back from Milan last month? They opened a store in Central london so I think it was Thursday." You nodded as you told him, removing both your under eye masks to then fully wash and moisturise your faces.

Lewis opted to watch you complete your routine as you did like to take your time with it, the scented candles creating the perfect atmosphere. His left hand came around your waist, his other hand holding onto your hip and his head dropping into your neck with small butterfly-like kisses peppering your skin. You stopped everything you were doing to feel exactly what Lewis was doing to you, his large hands lowering down your body with each kiss.

"Lew, baby. You need to rest." You whispered, unable to speak from his soft kisses. "Missed you so much, just wanna feel you.” He whined into your neck. As he picked up his head to kiss even further, you already turned your head to look at him, your face filled with worry.

“Can you not make that face?” You slightly jutted your lip out, his face sending a completely different message. “Is it working?”

“No.” You tried your best to hide the smile from your face, your boyfriend’s face dropping at the answer. Backing away from his embrace, you walked into the bedroom, fully aware that he was following right after you.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, you watched as Lewis stood in front of you then locked eyes with you. “Love, can I at least eat you out?” His whiny voice sounded out and you were fully taken by surprise. You had yet to experience this side of him in the bedroom but if it meant hearing that voice all over again, you were all in.

Not even waiting for your words, the man dropped down onto his knees, holding your thighs as balance as he maintained the eye contact with you. “Please, please baby. I’ll be so good, I promise. Won’t tease you, I’m starving. Just wanna taste you.” He rambles, his eyes slightly closed as his voice drops the closer his face gets to your thighs.

You couldn’t believe what was actually happening, so much so that it took you a few seconds to even think of a response. His chocolate eyes looked up at you with such anticipation, eagerly waiting for you to say something, anything. All you could do was nod and within seconds, he began kissing up your thighs, silently thanking the universe for bringing the two of you together.

Between her slight panting, you remembered that his back was in pain from earlier in the day, giving you an idea. “Lew.” You called out, his head rising to stare at you once more. “Lie on your back, don’t need you to hurt it more than it already is.” You said, slowly guiding him to stand up with you then push him down onto the bed by his chest. He huffed out a slight chuckle at your eagerness.

Once the clothes were off, you crawled up to straddle him but catching him by surprise, your lower body was closer to his face than he thought. Your legs were on each side of his head, your dripping core was hovering right above his mouth, he could’ve sworn he was in heaven. Gently holding onto his braids, you lowered yourself slightly yet not fully sitting, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to breathe.

“Y/n baby. Sit on my face, please.” Lewis groaned from underneath you, his breath hitting your core making you slightly shiver. His large hands creeped up onto your ass, bringing you down onto his face with a grip. Once you had gotten used to him devouring you like a touch starved man, you eventually found your rhythm and began moving in perfect harmony with his tongue, slightly pulling his braids when you felt the all too familiar knot into your stomach .

Your orgasm ripped through you, your moans bouncing off the walls of your shared bedroom. When wanting to lift yourself off of him, he continued to lick and suck on your sensitive clit, overstimulating you quite a bit. Your moans grew into whimpers and that’s when Lewis knew that you were beginning to feel tired, your body slightly shaking from the intense sensation of your release.

Now having a bit more energy, you actually lifted yourself up from his mouth and wanted to go down on him as you craved to have something that would give him the same sensation that he gave you. Before you could even reach his hard on, he held onto one of your hands. Kissing your palm, he spoke up. “Can you please just fuck me? I need to feel you around me, sweetie.” Lewis asked, the same look from before wooing you so easily.

You continued making your way down on him until he suddenly flipped the both of you. “Lew! Warn a girl next time!” You wanted to roll your eyes at him but he just smiled and leaned down to give you a breathtaking kiss, feeling butterflies in your stomach once more.

“I’ve got you, baby. Just let me make you feel good.” He smirked, holding your legs to go around his waist. Once entering you, it truly felt like this should go on forever, have this night replay in your mind like a broken record. His hips snapping against yours would bring you back to reality, seeing stars once the familiar knot returned to taunt you. With the way he was pounding into you, you would’ve never thought he had back pain the whole time.

You screamed upon your 4th release, your body flopping against the sheets as you tried to catch your breath. Lewis emerged from the bathroom with a warm and slightly wet towel to gently wipe your pussy, you sucked in a breath as your sensitive clit felt the material against you.

Once fully done with aftercare for you and himself, you looked up at the man as you layed on your front to look at him laying next to you. “I truly love you, Y/n. Couldn’t thank the stars enough for you.” He expressed, the look in his eyes sending a deeper message into your soul.

“I love you so much, Lewis.” You responded and you could feel the love radiating off of each other.

This was love and you could forever drown in this feeling with Lewis right by your side.

[kiwi-on-ice]

HEYY, love your posts on tt. So I got something really specific I'm looking for. Lately here I've been absolutely head over heels for Cassidy's look in volume 4 of the New Blood comics.

Could you write a fem!reader x Cassidy scenario where they go on vacation at a little cabin in the mountains during the winter (reader's idea), Cassidy shares the coat and a kiss with the reader when he notices they're a little tool cold and then brings them inside to "warm them up" 🤭 (established relationship+ tons of flirting)

Cole Cassidy x fem!reader

Summary: After pleading with Cole for a long-awaited vacation, your ill advised outfit choice means your boyfriend is tasked with warming you up.

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: 18+ smut, pretty vanilla for my usual writing lmao, no use of y/n, pussy eating, loads of petnames, also loads of ass grabbing, creampie

Notes: Hope you like it anon! Also i'm not American so typing out the word 'vacation' is kinda weird for me aha.

“Y’know, maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.”

Came the smooth voice of your boyfriend as you got out of the rental car, glancing around with a big grin painted on his features. The dark wood cabin you'd rented for a week looks striking against the crisp white blanket of snow resting on the woodland and mountaintops. Crunching footsteps reach your ears as he comes up to your side and wraps his arm around your waist, letting you relax into his side like a puzzle piece slotting into place.

You’d begged Cole to have a break for months; after Overwatch joined back together he’d been all around the world recruiting new agents, and you couldn’t be prouder of your lover for dedicating himself to protecting the world. However, you’d seen first hand how this workload has affected him, the dark circles under his eyes that seem to get deeper and deeper, the frown lines that seemed to be permanently etched into his face. Reminding him that he doesn’t need to handle the weight of the world alone, you’d suggested a vacation but was met by a dismissive tone. How he couldn’t just leave everyone, there was so much work to be done, what if null sector attacked again? What if the new recruits need his help?

Despite his resistance, you felt the adoration for him increase tenfold at his worrying; gone were the days of the lone gunslinger, caring about himself only. You can see now the positive change in him, although it doesn’t alter the fact he’d been overworking herself for months. So you kept bring it up, suggesting different places until one finally caught his eye. And here you are now, the crisp winter air chilling you as you cuddle up to him, your breath visible in the winter air. Cole however seems eager to look round, grabbing your hand and taking you up to the front of the cabin, his eyes peaking in to the windows.

“Look at this beauty.” He marvels, walking around the sides of the building without a care; no doubt his fur lined coat keeping him warm against the chill in the air but you unfortunately aren’t so lucky. You regret not bundling up, bundling up like he told you, now clinging your arms around yourself to preserve some heat as Cole analyses the cabin.

“Don’t suppose the lake will be good enough for fishin’, still I bet we’ll find some things to do. Maybe that railway we passed, assumin’ they’ve cleared the snow.” He speaks, unaware of you currently freezing to death behind him as he heads to the car to grab your things. Hurriedly you follow him, and just before he pops the trunk, he glances at you.

“Cold, pumpkin?” he asks teasingly with a chuckle, causing you to scoff softly and deflect.

“No, I’m fine. Just a little chilly.” You lie, your breath visible as you speak. Humming, he smirks and steps closer.

“Is that right? Well I’m cold, maybe I’ll take that flimsy jacket off ya’ if you don’t need it-“ he says, reaching for your jacket and causing you to react and slap his hand away.

“Don’t you dare.” You snap quickly, causing a throaty laugh to escape him.

“I knew it, why you refuse to listen t’me is beyond my comprehension angel, so damn stubborn.” He playfully reprimands you. He’d told you to grab a coat, but you didn’t think it would be this cold, so you blew him off. He instead looks down at you, wrapping his strong hands around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest. “Lemme warm you up, hm?”

Despite the temperature, you feel heat rise to your cheeks at his flirtatious, before you giggle softly. “Such a flirt.” You mumble.

“For warmin’ up my girl?” he says lowly, tickling your ear with his warm breath. “You wound me, thinkin’ so lowly of me.”

You’re really giggling now, as he undoes his coat and throws it over the both of you. This causes you to huddle further into his broad chest, feeling the heat of his body as he presses you against himself. You sigh happily, your cheek smushed against his chest and your mind clearing. Feeling his fingertips stroke up the expanse of your back makes you happy you both have taken the time to rest here.

His hands wander down to your lower back, before grabbing a handful of your ass and pulling you impossibly close, causing you to let out a squeak.

“Cole!” you say with a huff, to which he smirks into your hairline.

“What? Can you blame me? Those jeans should be criminal sugar.”

He punctuates his words with another squeeze of your ass, kneading the flesh and causing you to squirm against him. You slap his arm lightly, pretending to be annoyed but he can see right through you. He chuckles at your antics, feeling you up gently and humming in satisfaction at the way your body feels against his touch. Often he wonders what he did to be lucky enough to get a girl like you, so caring and kind to him...but also goddamn just his type. The way your ass feels in his rough hands, the way your voice sounds as you gasp or tease him, you're just perfect for the gunslinger. He hums as if in thought, before leaning in to your ear.

“Y’know…if you’re still cold, I could always help warm you up.” He whispers, letting the insinuation run up your spine like electricity. Your cheeks warm as you nod slowly, causing him to pick you up with a grunt. “What’s the magic word?”

“Please?” you say with another huff, holding on to him as he takes you inside. You giggle at the way you both look, with him carrying you bridal style into the cabin; almost like newlyweds. You both look around inside, the cabin beautifully rustic in its interior decor. The living area is open plan, with a large comfortable looking sofa facing a baroque fireplace. Kicking his boots off, he feels the fur rug under his feet as he makes his way to the sofa, plopping you down onto it and grinning down at you.

“Why don’t I light the fireplace, then we can really warm up.” He states as moves to mess with the fireplace, figuring out how to light it. Deciding to be a tease, you quickly take your top off, removing your bra and throwing them both on the floor unceremoniously. You debate taking your jeans off, but decide to keep them on after Cole's earlier teasing words, lounging back on the comfy fabric as your boyfriend curses under his breath at the task.

“Damn you, stupid th-“ he stops when the fireplace is lit, grinning in satisfaction. “There we are sugar, nice and warm.”

He turns, and his eyes widen as he takes in your current form. You swear you hear his breathing pattern change as he takes in the sudden sight. Cheeks flushed, he stares for a moment, just drinking in the image of you.

“Goddamn sweetness, look at you.” He praises, the grin still on his face as well as the flushed colour. “Such a little tease hm?”

Rising from his knees, he walks over to you leisurely. His gaze doesn’t even hide that it’s firmly set on your tits, before he leans over you.

“Like what you see?” You tease up at him.

“You know I do.” He murmurs, gently tracing down your neck. “Mighty fine sight you are.”

You go to sit up, before he pushes you back down softly and straddles you. His callous fingers trace over your waist, moving up and groping your tits.

“Thought you were cold.” He challenges, as you arch your back up to his touch.

“I am…you’re helping.” You can’t help but say, gasping softly as he pinches your nipples gently.

“That right? Guess I’ll continue.”

He massages your tits firmly, leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss. Relaxing against him, you let him take control of the kiss as his tongue runs along your bottom lip.

“Don’t want my girl freezin' on the vacation she pestered me for.” He whispers against your lips, punctuating his words with another squeeze of your tender nipples. Your hips buck instinctively at his attention, causing his hips to pin you down on the sofa. Lips trail from your mouth to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses in their wake before he starts to bite gently, giving you a hickey.

“So sweet…” he mumbles, admiring the mark he left. It always give him a rush, marking you. Seeing the way your skin bares a reminder of the love and desire he holds for you. He kisses down to your collarbones, then downwards further before reaching your chest. With a grin he licks at your nipple and blows cool air on it, reveling as you squirm.

“Cole…” you whine, causing him to chuckle and shush you. He takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. Lavishing your breast with his attention, he then moves to give the other one the same treatment, sucking softly before gently nibbling to cause that delightful gasp from you.

Your fingers thread into his hair, tugging a little as he kisses down your navel to the hem of your jeans. Licking the skin just above the denim, he shifts upwards with a soft grunt before unbuttoning your jeans.

"You sure you want these off?" He asks with a cocky grin on his face, "Don't want you catchin' more of a chill."

You nod, pushing your hips up to allow him to slip the clothing down your legs. "Need you.."

He laughs a little, callous fingertips contrasting with the smooth skin of your thighs. "My girl's always needy f'me."

Using his metal hand to rip your underwear, he takes a moment to appreciate your naked form in all its glory. You can't help but notice lately he's been...for lack of a better word admiring you more and more. The look in his eyes is something new, a new sort of excitement and contentment that never fails to steal the breath from your lungs.

Small kisses work their way up your legs, before he's eye level with your dripping cunt, beard scratching lightly at your inner thighs. "Can I?"

With your permission, he lets out a soft groan before licking a stripe up your pussy. He laps at you gently at first, savouring the taste as you gently run your gingers through his brown locks. Moving his tongue in rhythmic motions, trying to draw out every last breath and moan from your parted lips. He flicks his tongue against your clit, grinning at the higher pitched noise that escaped as he digs his fingers into your thighs. But the need for you takes over, so he dives in to his meal.

"Always taste so good...all mine." he mutters against your heat, almost like he's saying it to himself as he makes out with your cunt happily. Eyes closed, hair a mess, your thighs lightly squeezing his head; Cole Cassidy is sure he's in heaven.

As you start to rock your hips into his mouth, he lets you, laying his tongue flat and letting you take your pleasure from him. His hands gently squeeze your thighs, moaning softly at your juices on his tongue. He starts to move his head, shaking it from side to side slightly to ensure he tastes every inch. The grip you have in his hair gets tighter, the pleasure causing your thighs to start to shake.

As you look down, you notice your boyfriend's hips rocking into the soft fabric of the sofa. Cole's desperation was intense, the sweet taste of your cunt never failing to get him hard and almost leaking in his briefs as he tongue-fucks you to his hearts content. Small grunts surge from his lips, travelling through your pussy and causing you to get closer and closer to the edge.

"Nearly there..." you warn him, and you're met with a soft growl as he double down on his efforts. His tongue dances along your folds before focusing on your clit, flicking and sucking. With that final push, you cum loudly like you know he loves, as he determinedly licks up all that you give him. He pulls away a little, his beard drenched with your juices as he catches his breath.

As he glances at you, sweaty and breathing heavily, his eyes are drawn to the way your nipples have hardened. "Oh look at that darlin', you still cold? Well we can't have that..."

With surprising strength he yanks you in his arms and settles you on the fur rug in front of the fireplace on your hands and knees. Immediately you sink slightly into position, arching your back a little as he hurriedly undoes his belt.

"So good for me ain't ya? Such a sweet girl...my sweet girl." he almost rambles as he rids himself of his clothing, before pressing against you so you can feel his excitement on the back of your thigh. Gently peppering kisses to the back of your neck, he smiles against your skin as you make a content sound. "Gonna fuck ya till you're nice and warm."

With that declaration, he slowly pushes inside with a grunt. "God you're always so tight..." he gets out with a stunted breath, his hands immediately gripping your hips to keep you still. He savours the sweet sensation, before slowly pumping his hips.

The slow movements mixed with the crackling of the fire make for a divine experience, your eyes fluttering closed as you allow yourself to be present in the moment. Sighing, you feel his fingers draw small circles on the meat of your hips and love handles.

"So fuckin' good...can I go faster baby?" he asks, which results in a resounding yes from you. With your permission he starts to thrust faster, groaning at the feeling of your cunt taking him in so willingly. You keen as your back arches, never getting tired of your boyfriend railing you.

He can never resist in this position grabbing a handful of your ass, squeezing as he pulls you back into his thrusts. Moaning, he brings his hand up to give you a firm spank, causing you to jump and whine.

"H-hey..." you fake complain, although Cole didn't miss the soft whine of pleasure that escaped you.

"Awe, did that hurt pumpkin?" he coos in a teasing tone. He ends his sentence with a rough thrust, causing your breath to catch as he smirks. "Oops, guess that hurt too. And this."

He reaches round and grabs at your tits, his chest against your back almost as he pummels your g spot with shallow thrusts. Watching your reactions, he can't help but feel a rush at every noise that spills from your throat. The way your ass ripples with every snap of his hips has his dick throbbing inside of you, but after a while, he pulls out and grunts, smacking your ass.

"On the sofa again, I ain't a spring chicken no more you know? M'knees can't take it." he chuckles softly, as you giggle at his slight self-deprecation. He helps you up, before guiding you back to the sofa. Laying down, he gets comfortable as you get on top and sink yourself back on his cock. "Yeah sugar...you know this is my favourite."

"Because you don't have to do any work?" you tease with a giggle, causing him to huff and thrust upwards.

"No, ain't nothing wrong with wantin' to see my goddess of a girl bouncin' on me." he defends himself with a lazy grin, his hands stroking your thighs as you move yourself up and down. You can't help but giggle at his praise as you look down at him, his chest rising and falling rapidly with every movement you make.

Gripping his shoulders for support, you lift yourself and slam back down over and over, watching as his eyes almost glaze over in hazy satisfaction. He feels his cowboy hat slip, and with another smirk grabs it and puts it on top of your head.

"That's it baby, you my cowgirl huh? Gonna ride me?" he teases, although his pupils blow wide as he sees how stunning you look completely naked with his hat. You nod, using one hand to stabilise yourself while the other keeps the hat firmly on your head as you ride him. In that moment, Cole wishes he could take a picture and look at it every single time he's apart from you; truly you're a goddess in his eyes.

With his hips twitching, he can't help but thrust up into you, gripping your hips like you were gonna disappear if he let go. With a whimper, you feel your second orgasm of the evening build up inside you as you move.

"Cole..." you begin, but he knows your body like he knows his way around a revolver.

"I know sugar I know, gonna cum for me ain't ya?" he encourages, his hips really moving up into you now as he watches your face contort with pleasure. One hand slipping down to play with your clit, you move desperately, chasing your orgasm.

"That's it, take what you need." your boyfriend grunts out, and you do, using his cock to get yourself to the edge. You cum with a cry of his name, causing the breath to be almost punched out of his lungs at how beautiful you look. He starts to pound up into your cunt, groaning.

"Yeah that's it, just a little longer angel. Just a bit more...gonna make me...fuck...cum inside that pretty pussy."

You let him use you, and it isn't long before he makes good on his word and fills you up, moaning deeply in satisfaction. You collapse on his chest as he holds you close, running his hands up and down your sides as your breathing syncs up with each-other. He grips your hips to lift you off his cock, and you whine as the cool air hits your cunt as his release spills slowly out of you, most likely making a mess of both your boyfriend and the sofa. A bit of you almost pities the next people who stay here, knowing they'll have to sit on a sofa with Cole's cum stains on it, but your pleasure outweighs the potential guilt. After a few minutes of bliss, Cole pipes up.

"So...you suitably warmed up?" he grins, and it widens when he hears your soft laugh.

"Yeah i'm warm...maybe a little too warm."

"You're just never happy, are you?" he laments sarcastically, chucking as you lightly slap him on the arm. You snuggle into him, feeling him hold you close and tight. "M'happy you suggested this baby, gonna be a relaxin' few days here with you."

Smiling happily, you nod softly. This is all you wanted, for him to rest like he deserves. "Yeah...a nice break."

"A nice break." he repeats, before kissing you on the temple. "Just don't go out with that flimsy jacket on, y'hear me? Unless you just want me to drag your pretty ass back inside and fuck you till you're all nice and warm again."

[skele-bunny]

Anything Swissalps please!!

Rubs my grimey little hands together

(obligatory tag for @hypnoneghoul !)

Mountain doesn't really like the caterpillars and worms on his plants in the room, but knows they're very much needed. He's started to get used to them more bc Swiss names them and it's kinda their thing.

"Martin is fuckin' chowing down on this vera right now..."

"I thought Martin eats the peonies?"

"No that's his twin brother Jake."

"Oh.."

Speaking of the plants!!! Swiss is VERY accustomed to them. His stand in Mountain when they aren't there. Always super reactive and love Swiss so so so much. They love holding him, helping him with tasks in the room, and just making sure he's okay. Swiss used them for... Self pleasuring reasons and literally only a minute in before Mountain stumbled in with the biggest hard on ever. He then learned that day that, yes, Mountain can feel and know everything the vines are doing/receiving.

Mountain who courts Swiss with wreaths and bones, flowers delicately picked and meaningful, and even down to foraging for him. Swiss who doesn't know how to court besides quintessence, but it just doesn't feel right. So he does what he does best!! Makes a song for Mountain!! It's kinda an air/water thing, but it's so specifically him that it doesn't really need an elemental label.

I'm sharing part of my hibernation Mountain propaganda and y'all are dealing with it. Mountain is GONE during the winter and Swiss is his hibernation mate even tho he doesn't really sleep like Mounty does. Lottt of grooming, breeding, and feeding as Mountain is running purely on instincts and can't really form coherent thoughts outside of those instincts. He just knows "my mate needs to eat." "my mate doesn't smell like me and I need to fix that internally and externally." Swiss doesn't mind it as he's still able to get up and move around, sometimes leave the room for quick trips to the kitchen and back. Swiss usually curls up on Mountain's torso and he's held sooo tenderly by this big furry beast. He LOVES it.

Mountain wears glasses but he loses them a LOT. Swiss always has an extra pair on him just in case which has come in handy multiple times. Swiss always demands them back once Mountain is done using them. "I'm not letting you lose the only backup pair you have, dork."

Big boy is embarrassed about wanting to be topped, but ohhh Swiss knows. He knows. Loves putting Mountain in the most submissive positions like doggy, missionary, or a mating press, but fuck does Mountain love it. He loves feeling smaller for once, loves watching his yin on top of him just whispering the most embarrassing things you could ever think of.

I've talked about Mistress Judas a few times, Swiss' bdsm persona, but... With Mountain? Ohh at her feet for anything she says. She makes him feel stupid. Weak. Lower. Small. It's what he wants and needs, and she's more than happy to provide. Big on breath play, boot play, and her whip. Best aftercare in the world, and Mountain wouldn't have it any different as he's massaged and given such tender kisses, words, and affections.

Mountain who sees Swiss as his art form—as art itself. As yin and yang. As everything right in the world. Something something, he's so dumb in love he can't think and just writes all of his love frustration on paper and hands it to Swiss who keeps them safe in a folder he reads through a lot.

Something something they're so in love it's sickening.

[queenshelby]

Our Little Secret (Part 22)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity

Monday came around quickly and, at around 6 o'clock, just after you had gotten home from university, Cillian arrived at your doorstep, ready to tackle the cot assembly head-on.

After greeting him with a warm hug, you led him upstairs to Baby Mara's nursery, your heart pounding with anxiety. You wanted to create the perfect space for your little girl, but you were afraid that your efforts would fall short.

"Have you done anything with this yet?" Cillian queried, glancing around the room. He appeared hesitant, his gaze darting nervously towards the mountain of the opened up flat-packed boxes piled high on the floor.

"I haven't touched any of these. I promise," you chuckled, your cheeks reddening slightly as you handed him the instruction manual.

"Fuck, these things are confusing, aren't they?" Cillian muttered under his breath, his brow furrowing in concentration as he scrutinized the instruction manual and placed some of the boards on to the floor as indicated.

"What? Are you saying that you can't figure out a simple set of instructions?" you teased, a spark of amusement dancing in your eyes while you watched Cillian trying hard to assemble the bottom part of the cot. 

"Hey, I'm trying here," Cillian protested, his eyes flashing defensively. "This stuff is more complicated than it seems," he argued, squinting at the diagrams intently.

"How many fucking panels are there supposed to be anyway?" he cursed, his frustration escalating.

"I don't know, but let's start building," you proposed eagerly, eager to bring your vision to life. "Are you sure you can handle this?" you joked, your laughter filling the room.

"Of course, I've got this," Cillian asserted confidently, his gaze sweeping over the myriad of components scattered across the floor. "I've assembled far more complex things before," he boasted, his voice thick with bravado.

"Now where is that silver L-shaped thing?" Cillian groaned, running his hands through his hair impatiently. "I swear, this is like finding a needle in a haystack!" he grumbled, tossing aside a handful of bolts and screws in frustration.

Your eyes widened as you watched him throw pieces haphazardly onto the floor, a nervous laugh escaping your lips. 

"You mean the Allen key?" you questioned, arching an eyebrow at Cillian in feigned confusion.

"Yeah, the screwdriver thing they include in those packs, Cillian clarified, scanning the pile of parts on the floor in search of the elusive tool.

"It's called an Allen key" you laughed, watching him scramble through the mess before, finally, finding what he was looking for.

"Right," Cillian echoed, attempting to regain composure. He turned his attention back to the instructions, scrutinizing the diagram carefully. "I believe we need to attach Panel B to Panel G," he suggested, pointing at the paper.

"Or maybe it's the other way around?" he murmured, squinting at the illustration doubtfully.

"Oh, dear," you stifled a giggle, noticing the perplexed expression on Cillian's face. "This is harder than it looks, right?" you teased, nudging him playfully.

"You're absolutely right," Cillian grunted, struggling to fit the panels together. "These damn pieces just don't seem to want to cooperate," he grumbled, his frustration mounting.

The atmosphere in the room crackled with palpable tension, and you found yourself biting your lip to suppress a laugh.

"Here, let me help," you offered, moving closer to Cillian. Your skin brushed against his, igniting a spark of desire that both of you desperately tried to ignore.

"You should probably rest Y/N," Cillian breathed, his gaze locked on your perfectly round baby belly. 

"I am fine. I am pregnant, not sick," you chuckled, guiding Cillian's hands to the correct panel.

"Alright, but just take it easy. I will do the lifting, okay?" he replied, focusing intently on the task at hand. 

"Sure," you acquiesced, offering a lopsided grin. You leaned back against the wall, observing Cillian's focused expression as he meticulously fitted the parts together. The scent of sawdust and wood varnish wafted through the air, mingling with the lingering remnants of your floral perfume.

Suddenly, Cillian halted mid-assembly, his gaze fixated on a loose bolt that stubbornly resisted his attempts to secure it.

"You know what?" he said aloud, his knuckles whitening as he squeezed the errant bolt tighter.  "This cot," he muttered under his breath, "is a complete pain in the ass."

You suppressed a giggle, your eyes sparkling with amusement as you inspected the incomplete structure before you. Despite the seemingly endless complications, something about the chaotic mess of wooden planks and metal bolts stirred feelings within you that you couldn't quite comprehend. A feeling of warmth spread through your chest at the sight of Cillian's frustration, and you couldn't help but feel drawn to the connection that formed between the two of you as you tackled the assembly together.

You soon gathered him a glass of wine while getting a soda for yourself, hoping that it would help him relax, and he gladly accepted it, sipping it as he sat down to continue working on the cot.

You admired his determination, even as the clock ticked onward, and as he labored tirelessly on the project, you began to sense the strain on his face.

"Would you like to take a break and have something to eat?" you asked him, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure he was under. "I will heat up some pasta,” you added, a hint of excitement creeping into your voice. 

"That sounds lovely," Cillian replied, placing the partially completed frame of the bed on the ground and setting his tools aside. "I'm starving," he admitted, stretching his aching muscles.

"Come on, let's go downstairs," you urged, leading him down the staircase just as a lightening bolt struck outside, startling you and causing you to almost trip down the stairs.

"Shit, careful Y/N" Cillian said, instinctively wrapping his arms around you protectively. His embrace felt strong and safe, like a protective shield enveloping you.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern as he examined your face closely.

"Yes, I am fine," you reassured him, your pulse racing at the speed of a thousand horses. "It just surprised me. That's all," you lied, smiling faintly.

"You are still scared of thunder and lightning, aren't you?" Cillian asked, knowing that this was one of the few phobias you had after having spent some time in a hurricane affected area in the US. 

"A little, maybe," you admitted, smiling sheepishly. "It's silly, really," you added, peeking up at him through your lashes just as you heard another loud rumbling. 

"Fuck," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

"Can we just sit here for a moment?" you pleaded, clutching his arm tightly.

"Of course," Cillian assured you, his voice thick with concern. With gentle care, he guided you to the couch, ensuring that you were comfortable. "Do you want some water?" he offered, checking in on you.

"Maybe later," you murmured, your gaze fixed on the storm raging outside. Thunderclaps rattled the windows, causing you to shudder involuntarily.

Cillian noticed your fear and hesitated to release you from his embrace, knowing that it was futile to argue with you right now, and just as there was some more lightening, the Livingroom turned black.

"What happened?" you gasped, gripping Cillian's shirt tightly. 

"I would say that the power is gone" Cillian explained before looking out of the window and realizing that the surrounding houses had no power either.

"Oh, fucking perfect," you muttered, your voice laced with annoyance as the storm continued to rage outside.

"It's alright Y/N," Cillian said reassuringly while reaching for his phone and turning on the flashlight. "Do you have some candles and matches? Or a torch perhaps?" he asked, his voice softening as he attempted to ease your panic. He moved toward the fireplace, illuminating the dark space with his cell phone as he searched for any signs of a lighter.

"Top right, next to the wood stand," you instructed, your voice barely audible as you stared out into the stormy night.

"Got it," Cillian confirmed, locating the box containing matches, striking one to life before lighting several candles.

As the room gradually filled with warm, flickering light, you sighed deeply, your heartbeat gradually slowing down.

"You know, every time there's a storm, I expect someone to show up out of nowhere and save me," you mused, smiling wistfully.

"Save you from what?" Cillian asked, raising an eyebrow as he joined you on the couch.

The scent of burning wax filled the air, and the shadows danced around the candlelit room, creating an intimate atmosphere.

"From the storm," you clarified, glancing out the window as the storm raged on. Lightning flashes illuminated the room intermittently, casting stark shadows on the walls. The wind howled, causing the trees outside to sway wildly.

"Well, I don't think that you actually need saving but, if there is a storm again, call me and I will come over, alright?" Cillian said, his words reflecting the genuine affection he held for you.

"Alright, deal," you agreed, resting your head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around you. The room filled with a comforting silence, except for the occasional crackle of the dying fire.

As the storm raged on outside, you and Cillian settled deeper into your embrace, savoring the peaceful moments shared in the dim candlelight.

"Should I make us some sandwiches?" Cillian spoke up, breaking the silence. "It's better than cold pasta, I guess?" Cillian chuckled while waiting for your answer. 

"Yes, please," you nodded, your stomach protesting at the mere mention of food. The thought of a hot sandwich sounded heavenly right now, and you couldn't wait to dig in.

"I'll just grab some plates," Cillian smiled, rising from the couch to retrieve two plates from the kitchen cabinet. He returned shortly thereafter, handing you a plate stacked high with freshly prepared sandwiches.

"Thanks," you murmured gratefully, biting into the cheese and crispy bread while Cillian checked his phone, seeing how long this storm was going to last and when power was meant to be restored. 

"The power is not meant to come back on until the morning, apparently," Cillian announced, his brows furrowed with concern.

"What?" you gasped, staring wide-eyed at the darkened living room. 

"Relax, Y/N," Cillian soothed, squeezing your hand reassuringly. "Everything is going to be fine," he murmured, his gaze never leaving yours.

You nibbled distractedly on your sandwich, your thoughts spiralling into worry. You hated being trapped in the dark, especially during a storm. However, Cillian's comforting presence calmed your nerves somewhat, allowing you to breathe easier.

"Do you, uhm," you began to say, pausing to gather your thoughts. "Think you could stay here tonight?" you ventured cautiously, your voice wavering slightly.

"I know it's a lot to ask, considering our circumstances, but I honestly feel safer with you here," you confessed, your gaze darting nervously between Cillian and the storm outside.

Cillian paused, his mouth full of sandwich, and swallowed deliberately before responding. "Amanda is meant to be coming over to my house at nine, but yeah, I mean, sure," Cillian stammered, a slight flush spreading across his cheeks.

He looked down at your hand, still nestled in his, before meeting your gaze again. "I will stay here," he confirmed, his voice softer than before. "But we probably shouldn't stay in the same bed, so I will have the couch, okay?" Cillian said, his voice tinged with uncertainty. He rose from the couch, carrying his plate to the table before returning to you with a determined look in his eyes.

"Thank you," you responded, a flicker of relief washing over you. The idea of spending the night alone in the dark, amidst the chaos of the storm, seemed unbearable. Having Cillian there, even if he slept on the couch, provided a sense of comfort and safety that you sorely needed.

As you finished your dinner, the storm intensified, the wind howling relentlessly, battering the windows. Your fears swirled, like the tumultuous clouds outside, threatening to engulf you but Cillian did his best to keep your mind preoccupied and suggested playing a game of cards.

He retrieved a deck from somewhere in the house and the two of you huddled on the couch, using the scant light from the candles to guide your hands. The soft whispers of shuffling cards echoed in the otherwise silent room, punctuated by fits of giggles between hands.

You played several games until around ten o'clock that night, by which point Cillian had ignored more than five calls from Amanda after cancelling their date and, just as the storm calmed down a bit, you decided to call it a night. 

After getting changed into your PJs and saying goodnight to Cillian who, by that point, had gotten himself comfortable on the lounge, you crawled into bed, feeling exhausted and afraid.

You were laying there awake, listening to the rhythmic patter of rain hitting the garden below. Each clap of thunder caused your body to tense, and the sporadic flashes of lightning served as reminders of the danger lurking beyond the windows.

It was as though nature itself conspired with your inner turmoil, amplifying the torrent of emotions coursing through your veins and, just as another bolt of lightening struck nearby, you jumped out of bed. 

The sudden jolt of adrenaline propelled you to seek solace in Cillian's company, and you hurriedly grabbed your robe before fleeing the confines of your bedroom. Your bare feet padded softly against the cold hardwood floors, and the scent of damp earth filled the air.

You knew that it was a reckless decision, and the consequences could prove disastrous if Amanda found out, but it was almost like you couldn't help yourself. 

"Cillian," you called out softly, your voice echoing eerily in the dimly lit living room. "I really can't get to sleep," you confessed, your voice trembling slightly. "Could you just lie down with me for a little while?" you requested, swallowing nervously.

Silence enveloped the room, and you feared that Cillian might refuse your request, or worse, question your motives. Your heart pounded in your chest, and beads of sweat trickled down your temples. You waited for what seemed like an eternity, your breathing shallow and rapid.

"I suppose why not," Cillian finally replied, his voice muffled by the distance between you. "I mean, it's not that we haven't shared a bed before," he added, his tone shifting uncomfortably. "So, I guess it wouldn't hurt to just keep you company for a while," he agreed cautiously, his reluctance noticeable.

You heaved a sigh of relief, your body relaxing visibly as you allowed yourself to lean against the couch. "Thank you," you whispered, your gaze locking onto Cillian's tired eyes.

With trepidation, you followed him back to your bedroom, navigating the darkness cautiously.

Once inside, Cillian closed the door behind you, shutting out the storm's chaos, before climbing into bed, wearing only a t-shirt and a pair of black Calvin Klein briefs.

You followed suit, slipping your robe off, leaving you in a singlet and shorts, and crawling beneath the covers, careful not to touch Cillian too closely for fear of provoking unwanted desires.

For a few minutes, nothing was spoken between you, the only sound being the distant thunder and the rhythmic patter of rain against the window pane. 

"I am sorry. I feel like an idiot," you then eventually said, breaking the silence between you. 

"Don't be silly," Cillian whispered soothingly while turning towards you. "Everyone has fears, even big boys like me," he joked, a ghost of a smile tracing across his lips. 

"Big boys like you huh?" you giggled before asking what his fears were, the answer to which surprised you. 

"Being alone," Cillian admitted, his voice barely audible. "When I was younger, I had this uncle who really never settled down with anyone. He was on his own when he passed away of old age and I figured that, never being able to experience love in such a deep and meaningful way must suck," Cillian confessed, a trace of sadness clouding his features.

"And I don't want to end up like that, Y/N," he revealed, his voice heavy with emotion. "I don't like being alone," he admitted. 

"Do you think Amanda is the one for you? The one to grow old with?" you questioned, your voice softening. "Do you think she is the one for you?" you repeated, a hint of curiosity dancing in your eyes.

Cillian hesitated and ran his fingers through his short hair, a troubled expression clouding his features. "To be honest, I don't," he confessed, his voice cracking slightly. "I mean, I like her, but I am also not completely satisfied with our relationship," he admitted, his gaze flitting apprehensively between you and the window.

"Well, only you can figure out what you want but, if it is not her, then why waste your time?" you asked before, suddenly, gasping for air as Baby Mara gave you a kick.

"What's wrong?" Cillian asked, sitting upright abruptly.

"Oh, nothing," you waved dismissively, trying to hide the fact that your baby girl had kicked you. It was amazing, yet terrifying, to witness the physical manifestation of your child growing inside your womb.

"It's just that I think our daughter might become a kickboxing champion," you chuckled, rubbing your swollen belly tenderly beneath the blanket. 

"Is she still moving around?" Cillian asked, his gaze drifting towards your covered abdomen as he laid back down beside you. Your laughter bubbled forth, and you felt the familiar sensation of a small foot kicking against your palm.

"Yeah," you marveled, gently stroking your protruding belly. "And it feels really weird" you added, smiling appreciatively. "Would you like to feel her kick?" you asked Cillian, extending your hand underneath the blanket, inviting him to join you in the intimate experience.

His eyes widened slightly, and he hesitated for a moment before reaching for your hand. His fingers intertwined with yours, and he placed his palm beneath your singlet, right against your tummy, pressing lightly.

"Can you feel her?" you asked tentatively as his fingers grazed your belly lightly, a puzzled expression clouding his features in the dark.

"No, I don't think -" he started to reply, his brow furrowing in concentration. "Wait," he suddenly interjected. "Yes, she definitely just kicked," he affirmed, his voice brimming with wonder.

His fingertips lingered on your stomach, tracing gentle patterns as he adjusted to the unexpected sensation and, soon, you rolled on to your side, facing away from him and thereby giving his hand better access to your round baby belly. 

"She will kick me all night, you watch," you laughed softly, squirming against the soft cotton sheets. The smell of damp earth still clung to the air, a tangible reminder of the tempest raging outside.

"She is going to be a force of nature, I just know it," Cillian hummed, his fingers brushing against your sensitive skin, sending ripples of pleasure coursing through your veins.

"Probably, but, right now, I think she is simply excited," you speculated, the corners of your mouth curling upwards in a soft smile. "I think she enjoys your touch," you noted, observing Cillian's reaction carefully while he traced gentle circles on your tummy, his fingers dancing along your skin.

"It's surreal, isn't it?" Cillian commented, his voice hushed. "Feeling a tiny human moving around inside you," he added, his finger continuing to caress your abdomen. "I can't believe we actually made this miracle," he murmured, shaking his head.

"Well, neither can I," you laughed softly, snuggling back, closer against his chest and, much to your surprise, Cillian's hand remained firmly on your stomach, the pads of his fingers pressing lightly against your skin while he traced slow, deliberate circles.

His attention was solely focused on the movements beneath your skin and, occasionally, he would pause to examine your reactions, seeking confirmation that the sensations he experienced were indeed real while you lay there, nestled against him, feeling his warmth seeping into your body while the storm raged on outside.

"Cillian," you murmured softly after a while, your voice barely audible. "I think I am falling asleep," you confessed, your eyelids fluttering as you fought to remain awake.

"It's okay," Cillian whispered reassuringly, his grip tightening on your hand. "Just rest. You both need it,” he affirmed, his voice soft and tender. " I will be right here," he promised, his breath warming your neck as he inhaled the floral scent of your hair, reminding him of the many nights you had shared in the past.

"Goodnight, Y/N," he whispered, his voice soft and tender.

"Goodnight, Cillian," you murmured, your eyelids fluttering shut as sleep claimed you but, unfortunately for you, you were woken up at around 3 o'clock in the morning by a sharp pain in your stomach. 

You groaned, rolling onto your side and clutching your abdomen as the discomfort radiated outward.

"Cillian," you cried out softly, your voice trembling slightly. "Something is wrong," you whimpered, your breathing becoming increasingly laboured.

"My stomach," you groaned, clutching your abdomen tightly as the pain subsided. "I feel like I am having a contraction," you whimpered, the realization sinking in.

Cillian shot up immediately, throwing the blankets aside and rushing to the other side of the bed. 

"It's a contraction," you confirmed, your voice quivering with fear. "But it is too early for that," you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes.

"Y/N, we need to get you to the hospital," Cillian declared, his voice firm despite the obvious concern etched across his face.

"Where are your car keys?" Cillian asked, his voice strained under the weight of the situation while he helped you stand up and guided you down the stairs. 

To be continued...

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

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[itsabouttimex2]

I think we need something wholesome: so uh anything LSO MK related cuz I found comfort in him

Comfort Food

(Made to pair with Let’s Start Over!MK)

The kitchen always smells so nice when MK is at the stove. The air is scented with spices and herbs, drifting through the house. The whole place feels cozy, even though it’s snowing pretty hard outside.

Most of the mountain monkeys have herded inside to weather the storm, lounging on your bed and toying around with your clothes.

“Clover,” your mentor calls, using a nickname born of your status as the fourth owner of the Ruyi Jingu Bang. “You want extra peppercorns?”

You nod, slow and noncommittal- there’s more important things on your mind right now, after all.

Lying beside a few of your happy little white-furred friends is, of all things… a tail. Yours, specifically. It had only grown in a short while ago, so there was still a sort of unease around using or even seeing the simian appendage… but the mountain monkeys were eager to “help” by grooming it to neatness by MK’s request.

MK turns to check on you and smiles, slowly relaxing his tense shoulders. He always calms down when he you’re safe and content, tucked in nearby and within eyesight.

Unlike the monkeys, who had found your tail amicable from the start, your mentor was a more… complicated case, to say the least. At first he had been shocked by his child student sprouting a brand new appendage, especially since nothing of the sort had ever happened to him.

But he had quickly gotten over that initial shock, which made him more than aware of how you feel. He glances over his shoulder at you again, before returning to the stove.

Are you questioning yourself the way he questioned himself?

“Almost done, bud!”

He’s spent a lot of time trying to keep your spirits up about the change.

The hero takes up a small bowl of finely ground peppercorn and stirs the powder into the boiling pot, then turns the heat up a little higher.

As he does, a monkey hops up onto the counter to try and swipe a pepper, only to be “swatted” away by a wooden spoon. Really, all MK does is lightly tap the monkey’s head with a gentle wrist flick, prompting a pouty chitter.

“Y/N, try getting him to come over to you- with only your tail.” A little task that would, hopefully, distract you.

“Monkie Knight, I’m not sure-“

“Ah ah ah! Just give it a shot, bud! A flick or two won’t hurt you or anybody else, right?”

Please do something that takes your mind off the worries that he knows are racing in your mind even in this moment of comfort.

With a nod, you slowly lift the still clumsy appendage, trying to beckon the gluttonous little furball back to the couch with the rest of his troop.

The little simian doesn’t move, instead cocking his head with confusion. He doesn’t know what you’re trying to do. The monkey looks at you and then MK, then back at you again, chittering.

MK is trying not to smile, covering his mouth as he watches. “Come on- use it like you would your hands. Try and coax him over there. You’re not just supposed to be “good” with monkeys- you are a monkey, kiddo.”

Like him. Gods, there’s finally another like him.

Sitting up to give a more spirited attempt, you jerk your tail around to insistently point at the monkey, then the spot beside you on the couch.

MK snorts, struggling hard to hold back an uncommonly heard rumble of laughter.

Do you know just how happy you make your dad mentor?

The monkey looks at you, then the spot… and suddenly, it clicks. He finally begins to move towards you, hopping up onto the couch. The monkey finally comes to understand your intent. With an “Ee-EE!” of excitement, the monkey scampers across the floor and jumps up onto the couch, immediately nuzzling his head against your cheek in affection.

“Oh, oh! He… he actually listened to me,” you call in happiness, your tail flicking about wildly and erratically. “Monkie Knight, look at him!”

A proud smile blooms across MK’a, clearly amused as hell. He leans over to watch the playful scene unfold, giving the pot one final stir before taking it off the oven.

“See? You’ve got a good handle on it. You’re a natural, bud.” The other monkeys notice their friend has gotten cuddles, and start chittering and clamoring to get your attention as well. They want to be loved, too.

Maybe those desperate feelings were a reflection of their caretaker’s own.

You work to pull as many of the little critters into your arms and tail as possible, excitedly scooping them up with little grace- sure enough, the monkeys are overjoyed with your efforts and you quickly have hold a heap of chattering and writhing fur. They’re crawling over each other to dote on you, some of them even climbing up your shoulders to get to your hair.

MK makes a short trek from the cozy kitchen and into the cozier living room, holding a steaming bowl of jajangmyeon in one hand, and a pair of smooth wooden chopsticks in the other.

Most of the monkeys hop off your body as your mentor sets the bowl and chopsticks on the table in front of you.

“Here, eat up. But be careful- I don’t want black bean sauce on your clothes.” He says, already imagining the stain it would leave. He doesn’t want to have to deal with the headache that clearing it would take. “Don’t burn your tongue, either. And don’t eat too fast.”

There’s an annoyed twinkle in your eyes at his fatherly fussing, looking at your mentor from the corner of your eyes while breaking the chopsticks cleanly.

“I’ll be fine- dad.”

You joke now- but MK is sure that he’ll hear you say that for real eventually.

One of his hands drifts to your head, mussing the hair with a large and scarred palm. For a moment there’s only the sound of your munching and his breathing, you focused on the noodles and him focused on the parental fantasy of taking complete control of your safety and welfare, of having you entirely rely on him.

It would take a while, but…

It’s the sort of thing he’s willing to wait for.

[fragmented-king]

-_Vay-Cay_-

Stolas

Naturally, Stolas was the one who came to you with the idea.

He was going through your belongings one day, totally not trying to find and steal one of your soft nice smelling hoodies.

While looking around he found an old letter depicting a snowy mountain, humans skiing down its white slopes with "Winter 2002" written in the corner.

He flipped it around to find a note written by non other then, you.

"I just went skiing with some friends. It was nice, until someone messed up and slammed into me... Now my ankle is sprained... WORTH IT! I got to drink some bomb ass hot cocoa."

Stolas knew about snow, of course. But he never had the chance to experience it for himself, and he wouldn’t let this opportunity slip by.

He carefully puts it back in the envelope before continuing to look around. Next time he sees you he'll have to bring it up.

He finally finds what he came for a few seconds later. Quickly grabbing the hoodie from your bed then sprints out of your room making sure to clear any evidence he was ever there as he leaves.

Later that day he started planning a vacation for you two. Somewhere quiet, somewhere cold, somewhere snowy.

~~~~~

You're sitting on one of the many fancy couches in the palace when Stolas walks in a slight sense of worry emanating from him.

"Ahh there you are. I looked everywhere, I started to get worried after I searched your room and didn't find you or a text... I need to speak with you about something, may I sit?"

You nod and gesture to the spot next to you. He happily takes said spot and gets comfy before turning back to you.

"Dear, I've been wondering. Would you... Like to go on a vacation... With me? Everything is already planned. Transportation, protection, and food of course. All I need from you is a simple yes or no."

You sit there in silence thinking it over while he waits for your answer, he's staring a little bit.

After a moment going over it in you're head you agree, a vacation sounds nice. Even if all you do all day is laze about and receive love from a certain owl it wouldn't hurt.

~~~~~

You step through the portal, the chilly frost bitten air wasting no time trying to freeze you to your core, it fails however because of the twenty something layers Stolas made you wear.

You'll admit it's keeping you warm, but it also makes it hard to see... And walk...

You clumsily follow the owl through the snow covered mountainside eventually coming up to a grand looking cabin.

You turn to Stolas wondering if this is the place only to find him beaming at you, guess it is.

Once inside you take your time getting all the layers off while Stolas brews some hot cocoa.

By the time you're comfortable the sun starts going down. You're about to head to bed before Stolas stops you, asking you to join him for a bit.

You sit down with Stolas on two surprisingly comfortable wooden chairs, sipping hot cocoa and watching the sunset through a large wooden framed window, the high altitude of the mountain making the view more special.

It's cold and blue outside, but warm and orange inside. This really is a nice vacation. You should thank him when you're back home.

~~~~~

Stella

Convincing this avian royal to think of, non the less talk about the possibility of a ‘vacation’, is not an easy task.

It took you weeks of prying, prodding, and sometimes even begging to get Stella to consider it.

As right as it feels to congratulate yourself for getting her to consider it, only half your work is done. You still need to get her to go.

Once you finally convince her though, she goes from acting like she would never enjoy a vacation in a million years to acting like she waited forever for this.

The whiplash from her attitude's complete 180 might as well have broke your neck.

Sunscreen! Stella cannot emphasize this enough.

Your puny, spongy, soft human body will not be tainted by Earth's sun rays. And it's definitely is not just her trying to justify her rubbing your bare back, or down your sides.

She's 100% doesn't have ulterior motives, at all, why would you even say that?!

Though… If you did get sunburned, then she’d still get to rub that Aloe Vera all over you… Hmm…..

No! Your skin is far too pristine to be burned and roasted like that, no matter how tempting it is.

~~~~~

You arrive at the door to Stella's room, barely even knocking on it before it was swung open an ecstatic Stella greeting you from her well furbished room.

"There you are! I've been waiting for ages!"

She had a light blue sundress on. It hugged her curves well and you'd be lying to said you didn't stare a bit. All of that topped off with the largest wide brimmed sunhat you’ve ever seen.

You open your mouth to complement her appearance but are cut off by her dumping three giant, incredibly heavy bags in your arms.

"Let's get going, you wouldn't want to be late for our hotel reservation, now would you? And I've heard wonderful things about their wine."

Before you could so much as get a word in edgewise she starts dragging you off towards portal, all while you're struggling to get used to the weight of the bags.

While you walk she starts talking your ear off listing off all the activities she's planned for you two.

You nearly scoff at that. She's talking like she's the one who organized all of this. It's not like you spent multiple weeks planning and convincing her.

After a moment more struggling with the bags you catch up and step through the portal after her.

You're instantly hit in the face with a waft of heat, sun, and fresh ocean air. Despite the initial shock it's a nice change from the palace that you're oh so used to.

She gestures for you to follow then speed walks off towards the hotel leaving you with her bags, again. You're already tired, and you haven’t even gone to the beach yet.

~~~~~

After the workout that was getting Stella's luggage up to the room you and her finally relax on the beach together.

Not a single other person in sight. You turn to her calm but still a little confused.

"Where is everyone, an island like this should have tons of staff... Wait... Did you rent out this entire island?!"

She, not surprisingly laughed at that.

"Of course I did. I may be the prettiest girl you'll ever see but I'm still a demon. And, I thought that some alone time would be nice. No guards or servants. Just you, and me."

Mid sentence she interlocked her hand with yours while progressively getting closer. You lean forward for a kiss but feel a finger on your lips instead.

"You should know by now that you have to earn that darling. This is our first day here and you expect me to just give you whatever you want right off the bat. This may be a vacation, but that does not mean you get whatever you want instantly."

You frown and look away, it was such a romantic moment before she went and said all that. But, you're willing to work for it. You wouldn't be here sitting with her if you weren't.

~~~~~

Octavia

Good luck getting her to relax. She definitely needs it though, as this owl is stressed. I mean, she's got a lot of worries and she's a teenager, so you've got your work cut out for you.

That being said however, she's easily tricked into relaxing if you say the vacation is for you not her, and it wouldn't be the same without her there. That'll make her change her mind real quick.

Then once there, when she least expects it, you strike. Then before she knows it, she's feeling relaxed. Or at the very least a little better then before.

My professional opinion is to take her somewhere that is completely new to her, like nothing she's seen before if possible.

It'll help her forget her troubles easier. I recommend somewhere quiet with tons of greenery. And animals,

And stick around her, she wants consistency, and reliability. That mixed in with tons of quality time.

Just keep close to her if you can, try to make her have a good time, and most of all try and make it new to her.

Time away from the normal and melancholy is what she needs most.

~~~~~

You walk up to Octavia's door and knock. Nothing. You knock again. Also nothing.

You invite yourself in and see her laying on her bed staring at the ceiling, never a good sign.

You walk over and sit on the bed watching her snap out of it when the bed dips. She turns to look at you not moving much.

"Hey, you doing ok?"

She half sighs half groans then flips over to face you better.

"I'm fine."

You frown at that, 'I'm fine' is not a 'I'm actually ok' kind of answer.

"Rough day?"

"Just my parents, again... UGH WHY CAN'T THEY JUST BE NORMAL! Or at least not make their problems mine."

She flops back onto her back, going back to staring at the ceiling her expression shifting constantly as her mind works through her inner turmoil.

"Alright well. Were going on a vacation tomorrow so please remember to pack."

She groans again and flips over this time facing away from you.

"Do I have to... I mean I've told you a hundred times, I don't need a vacation... I just wanna stay home..."

You frown, again. You just gotta convince her to go. You can do that...

"It isn't for you. I want a vacation. And I want you to come, cause it wouldn't be the same without you."

You two sit in silence for a few moments before she groans extra loud. You're about to ask if she's alright before she suddenly gets up and walks into her closet.

You hear things being moved around and assume she's packing. So you'll leave her be, you've have to pack too anyways.

Before you leave you walk up to the doorframe of the closet, peak your head in just so she can see it.

"I love you."

You hear her mumble something along the lines of 'luv you too' before you turn to leave.

~~~~~

You quickly step out of the limo going around to Octavia's side to open the door for her. She quickly gets out before you can.

You know she doesn't like you doing that, but you're just trying to be courteous. Like usual.

Non the less you walk over and take her hand leading her into the medium to large house with a giant glass dome connected to one end.

"I thought you'd enjoy this place. It's a house built in the early 1900's. It has a giant greenhouse with hundreds if not thousands of plant types in it. Perfect place for a week away from home, I think."

You two go inside while some servants unload your things. You start showing her around, just little interesting things you learned from the homes owner.

You walk around for a while most stuff she doesn't react to, but have one more trick left. You pull out a small, old, metal whistle and blow into it. A moment later the dog of the house come padding in.

He's a large old golden retriever named Spike, who's lived here for years. You met him a few days ago to make sure he was friendly. He was, and you know Octavia's going to love him.

You watch her expression change from overall boredom to confusion then finally to a small smile when Spike walks up to her and rests his head against her side.

She look at him for a moment, then up to you clearly a little confused. You smile at her then walk over and start scratching behind his ear.

"His favorites spots are behind the ears, base of his tail, and his toe beans. Just be careful not to tickle him, he doesn't like that."

She cautiously crouches down and starts lightly scratching him behind an ear. You make sure nothing goes wrong then take a step back letting her enjoy some doggo time.

Yeah. She definitely needed this.

~~~~~

Started by Erratic-Sanguine, Finished by @jester089

Cheers Luv, we both appreciate it.

[separatist-apologist]

You Painted Me Golden

Did you know that while your mate was warming Amarantha’s bed, most of our people were locked beneath that mountain?

Did you know that while he had his head between her legs, most of us were fighting to keep our families from becoming the nightly entertainment?

SUMMARY: Eris Vanserra never wanted a mate, never wanted a wife. When a chance meeting in Day Court alters the course of his life, Eris will be forced to acknowledge both. But a new threat is looming, and an old foe has come back to Prythian.

And it will take more than luck for Eris Vanserra to keep himself and his family safe when he's dragged beneath the sacred mountain

Read on AO3

Fifty years.

Fifty fucking years trapped under that once sacred mountain, hoping and wishing and praying Tamlin would be able to break the curse. All he had to do was convince one stupid, sniffling human to love him. A task any one of them could have done with both hands tied behind their backs. Could he not be charming? Clever? 

Had he tried at all? 

Amarantha swanned through the court that evening, draped in glittering black jewels that sparkled beneath the twinkling fae lights overhead. Tamlin stood impossibly still, cheek a little bruised though fading with each blink of the eye. His clothes were worn, his hair limp. Standing before the other six courts, Tamlin was a defeated male.

He’d been their only hope. 

Eris wanted to kill him. 

He wasn’t the only one. Standing beside him, Beron Vanserra radiated hatred, though anyone looking at his face might see nothing but faint amusement. They’d played their parts—all six High Lords had put their own masks on, had danced and drank and bowed to Amarantha’s whims, all under the hopes Tamlin would succeed. 

“Did you try?” Amarantha asked, voicing the question echoing through the room. Even Rhysand looked as though he were in a dark mood, those typically taunting eyes of his more storm cloud than anything. Had he, too, banked on escaping? Had he been counting the minutes, too? Their eyes met and Eris, pissed and wanting to hurt the High Lord where it hurted, dropped his mental defenses for only a moment.

Where is Morrigan, Rhys?

Rhys’ eyes widened, his body going taut like a bowstring. Eris slammed them back up just as he felt the kernel of Rhys’s power batter against his mind with brutal force. Eris turned his eyes back to Amarantha, watching those long, blood red nails of her scrape beneath Tamlins chin.

“This has been such a little game between us,” she crooned, that voice dripping like syrup. 

Was it wrong to be relieved Tamlin, at least, would take her attention off the rest of them. How long before she just killed them? Eris felt desperation claw at his chest. They’d put off all talks of escape, but now…

What was left? Better to die on their feet than slaughtered like animals. Right? 

Eris didn’t dare look to his left where his mate stood, her face ashen with fear. He couldn’t protect her anymore. If Amarantha decided to make her dance until she dropped dead, he’d simply have to clap and laugh with the rest of them. He wanted to pull her against him, bury his face in her hair, and promise he had some grand plan to get them out.

Beron would kill him if he tried. 

Maybe it was worth it. He knew if he brought the idea to Arina she’d say yes—she’d tell him to leave his family behind and escape with her like so many others had done when Amarantha first arrived on their shores. He had once thought them all cowards, too afraid to fight.

Now he thought they’d been smart—they’d seen the writing on the wall. 

“It’s done,” Tamlin said, eyes pinned on Lucien’s brother. The mask was still over his face, a gold eye where his russet one had once been. Eris hadn’t seen him in fifty years, either. He didn’t need the whispered order from his father to know they weren’t to speak with Lucien…and still his eyes strayed to Helion against his will. The newly crowned High Lord simply looked bored, goblet hanging from two fingers with lazy arrogance. Oh, how he’d taken to the power. And now the only heir to his throne stood twenty feet away, blissfully unaware of his indiscretion given form. 

His mother, though, looked as if it was taking everything in her to keep from going to her youngest son. Eris simply couldn’t hate her for it—not then, anyway. Maybe he would later when the rest of his emotions settled and there was room to feel resentment, too. She’d always put Lucien first, just like she’d always risk everything for Helion. She simply could not help herself, even when it killed her. 

Eris didn’t know if he’d ever loved anyone as much as his mother loved Lucien and Helion. It was well trodden territory to wonder why she didn’t love him that way—why he was the acceptable collateral damage. Was it his face? Did he look too much like Beron, which made him too hard to look at? Eris had once examined his features in a mirror and had found too much of his father staring back. 

Beside him, Arina bumped into him with her shoulder, reading his mind. She looked up through dark lashes, reminding him that at least he had her. He thought he would have shattered into a thousand pieces had she not been with him, that his mask would have fallen away years before leaving nothing but a hollow husk in its wake. 

The throne room melted away, leaving nothing but soft, swaying grass and falling leaves in their wake. He could almost pretend they were home again, could see it so clearly every time he looked at her. She blinked and the onyx stone returned, forcing Eris to stand in his reality.

Tamlin had failed.

They were all doomed.

It’s done. 

They didn’t have to stand in watch—they did because there was nothing else left to do. Every amusement had been done a million times before. Some filtered to their usual places, dropping into chairs to drink themselves into oblivion, even though Amarantha had ordered they celebrate this night. She’d be planning a wedding by the end of the month and Eris wanted to claw his eyes out.

What was her endgame goal? Surely it couldn’t be this. The once terrible, feared general reduced to little more than a babysitter? There had to be more than just this. Eris didn’t believe for a second she wasn’t just as bored as they were. She seemed like she was having fun, circling Tamlin like a vulture over a corpse. Tamlin didn’t put up a fight at all, eyes glassy as though he’d retreated somewhere private in his mind. He was a coward who had likely quit well before that moment, and Eris hated him for it.

He turned, making his way back to the table his family sat at, grateful Arina immediately turned to come with him. She caught his pinky, letting him half drag her to that wide chair before yanking her into his lap. It was supposed to look possessive, though over the years they’d learned it was simply the easiest way to talk without anyone catching on.

“I can’t believe it’s over,” she murmured, turning her head as though she might kiss him. She wouldn’t—not in here. 

“He was never meant to be a High Lord and it shows,” Eris hissed in response. That was a rumor he’d heard from his father when Lucien had joined Tamlins court. Eris had once dismissed it at the time, but now he was inclined to agree with Beron.

“What now?” she asked him, betraying her fear for only a moment. It seemed strange to remember she’d once been engaged to Helion—that had they never met, she’d be across that wide room with Helion himself, a stranger to Eris. Now she seemed Autumn born, cunning and clever and every inch a princess of his court. It was unusual to see her mask slip—perhaps she did it purposefully to let him see how afraid she was.

Eris reached for her fingers, brushing a kiss along her knuckles. “We bide our time and wait. For now.”

Amarantha had what she wanted—Eris had no doubt she’d get Tamlin into her bed, too. Perhaps there, Tamlin would wield the little influence he had to free them all. Already, Amarantha was making him pretty promises in front of them all. Rhysand still watched from the shadows, eyes narrowed as he took it all in. If Eris didn’t hate him, too, he might have asked what the High Lord of Night made of it all.

Perhaps he was simply jealous he’d been replaced. 

“For how long?”

“Not here.”

Arina pressed her lips together before reclining back, fingers tapping alongside the thrumming beat of the music. He couldn’t join in, couldn’t make himself seem as easy going and unbothered as she did. She’d join the revelry, dancing with his brothers and drinking herself silly, cheeks flushed and eyes bright as she did so.

And Eris retreated into himself, moody and angry with no outlet to release any of it. He spent too many nights taking it out on her body, fucking her into sleepless oblivion in an attempt to relieve himself of his feelings. It worked in the short-term—Eris always started his day too exhausted to be anything but quiet, but eventually it all came roaring back like burning flame. Sometimes he felt like a forest fire and nothing could put him out.

He was going to destroy them both someday.

Arina’s fingers moved from the arm of the chair to his thigh, just high enough to recapture his interest. Eris had long stopped wondering if it would always be like this—if he’d always be so obsessed, if he’d always want her. The answer was an unequivocal yes. What he felt bordered on obsession, and sometimes he’d catch himself staring at her the way he’d often seen his own father watch his mother.

The impulse was there, though—to lock her up where no one could see her, to keep her all to himself. He told himself it was simply their circumstances that made him feel that way, but deep down, Eris wasn’t so sure. He could see himself confining her to his bedchamber once they returned, guarding her jealously the way a dragon might guard treasure. 

He didn’t want other males to look at her.

Amarantha made a whole show of crowning Tamlin in spiky onyx adorned in blood red rubies before seating him beside her, declaring him her consort. Eris hoped that night, when Amarantha dragged him to her bed, that he staked her through the heart. Judging by the stone with which Tamlin imitated, though, Eris doubted he’d try.

All he’d ever had to do was try.

It was a miserable evening. No one could pretend amusement and it was lucky Amarantha was too distracted trying to tempt Tamlin into her bed with all kinds of lurid promises. Arina listened, ears sharp, as Eris tried to contain his fury. Power, position, riches— things that could save them all if Tamlin would merely accept.

He swore, were it him in Tamlin’s shoes, he’d have done it. Gritted his teeth and swallowed his revulsion, but he would have. For even a fraction more of his magic back? Eris would have gotten on his knees and done whatever she asked.

Tamlin said nothing at all.

Eris nearly dragged Arina back to their designated space, not bothering to look at his younger brother at all. Not that Lucien looked at him, either. He’d be forever complicit in Jesminda’s death as far as Lucien was concerned. Nevermind that he owed his life to Eris—it had been Eris who’d warned Tamlin, after all. Lucien didn’t know and he never would. It had bothered Eris, once upon a time, when Lucien turned up his nose the first time they’d crossed paths. I did everything for you!

Now he felt nothing at all. If Eris allowed himself to feel, the dam would crack and water would come flooding in. He left Arina to change for bed, pretending he wanted to talk to his father and brothers. 

Eris didn’t— he just wanted her to be asleep by the time he came in. 

Eris dropped to a dust coated sofa gracelessly, watching as Beron paced the room. “Nothing changes,” Beron said, face purple with rage. “We will continue on as we’ve been.” No one dared to say a word. The air was so tense, Beron so irate that it was simply a game of pick-up-sticks to decide which of them would be on the receiving end of his wrath.

One of them would sacrifice themselves to spare their mother. Glancing toward his brothers, their faces dripping with dread, he decided it might as well be him.

Why not? 

“For how long?” Eris heard himself ask, voice dripping with disdain. “Shall we die down here?”

Beron spun, eyes locking on his eldest son. Heat crawled up Eris’s throat, choking the words from his lungs. He’d been on the receiving end of this punishment before and though it wasn’t as brutal as it would have been had Beron been at the height of his power, it was still enough to burn the tender flesh of his mouth and throat.

Against his will, he reached for his neck, coughing violently as he attempted to suck in a breath. “I don’t remember asking you, boy,” Beron hissed, pushing that flame deeper into Eris’s gut until he felt the blood bubble in his veins. He would have preferred a beating—that would have been better than this slow, miserable death.

Beron wouldn’t kill him, though. The heat extinguished, leaving Eris with the taste of blood dripping into his mouth and a sweat soaked body prone on the cold, stone floor. Through the roaring in his ears, he could hear his father continue speaking, ignoring Eris laying there trembling at his feet. 

At some point the voices stopped and Eris slipped out of consciousness, back to the forest he’d grown up in. The air was cool and sweet—like vanilla. He could feel the air caress his face before rain droplets penetrated the heavy, multi-colored canopy overhead.

“Eris,” the trees chanted, their voices a soft, sweet lullaby. “Come back to me, Eris.”

Eris’s body healed that evening, just like it always did. He woke in a tub of cool water, Arina asleep on the floor beside him, hair floating beside him.

Come back to me, Eris. 

He couldn’t even wish he was dead. Not when she was still alive. Not when he knew she wouldn’t follow him. Eris had no capacity for hope anymore.

Arina carried it all in his stead.

ARINA:

There was a human standing in the throne room. Arina was certain she was hallucinating from all the wine she’d been drinking lately. It was the only way to cope with their circumstances. Eris was merely a shell of himself, going through the motions without any interest in being alive. She didn’t know what he clung to anymore—it certainly wasn’t her. She’d tried, those first few days. Arina made her jokes, she stripped him naked, she danced, she laughed and Eris merely watched. He did whatever she wanted, but his soul was locked away somewhere she couldn’t reach.

Whatever had happened between him and Beron was a mystery to her, even now.

But the human—she was real. Skinny, with eyes a tad too big for her face and sharp cheekbones. Her golden brown hair was braided down her back and she’d equipped herself with a bow and a dagger, both of which would be taken from her before she was killed.

Eris leaned forward in his chair, eyes sharpening. 

“I’ve come to claim the one I love,” the human woman announced, eyes looking at Tamlin.

The room sucked in a collective breath. For days, Amarantha had tortured a human woman now pinned up on the  throne room wall, forcing them all to watch the girl swear she’d never seen Tamlin while Rhysand swore that was the human he’d seen in the manor. 

Arina had thought him a gutless coward for it, but now…had he been protecting someone? Even Amarantha seemed taken aback, stunned that this secret had been kept from her. Arina, already standing, looked around the room at the potential players on the new chessboard laid before them. Rhysand stood like a black knight, hands jammed in his pockets and an expression a little too innocent to be real. 

On the other end, Tamlin—the golden king, clenched his jaw and declared he’d never seen that woman in his life, a lie if Arina had ever heard it. Amarantha sat as queen on the same side Rhysand was on, though she seemed more undefended than she’d ever been. She’d been caught unawares and that gave the human the upperhand.

All seven High Lords were suddenly put back into play and they knew it. Arina saw Beron Vanserra inching closer to the front of the gathered crowd, his eyes cunning and clear. Helion, at the far back, clasped his hands behind his back with a look of contemplation she’d seen many times before. Thesan and Tarquin, both separated, watched impassively though their courtiers had begun to form a ring around them.

Kallias, too, returned to his table, every inch the bored nobleman save for the icy in his pale blue eyes. The wheels were turning, now. Everything hinged on what Amarantha decided to do next. If she was smart, she’d kill the woman immediately and use it as leverage over the endlessly silent Tamlin. 

But Amarantha had never once revealed herself to be smart. Only cruel. And as the woman spoke, it became clear to Arina that Amarantha saw this as a moment to finally teach Tamlin a lesson. 

Arina hadn’t prayed since Eris had arrived in her life. Everything seemed so unfair, so stacked against her that there was no point in asking the Mother to intervene. But right then, Arina begged.

Please spare this human. 

She wasn’t the only one who did so. Across the room, she swore she felt a hundred identical prayers whisper upward to the heavens. If Amarantha spared her, they had a fighting chance, something they could rally around. She was nothing, truly—so fragile it was almost laughable, her heart fluttering up against her pale, translucent skin.

But she was hope. 

Arina was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice Eris come to stand beside her until the smell of him slammed into her. Looking up at her husband, her mate, she saw something like life crawl back into those amber eyes of his. His mind was turning itself over with the possibilities of what might happen next.

Fifty years of nothing…and now this. 

She reached between them for his pinky, afraid if she took his hand he’d withdraw again. Eris didn’t react at all, eyes pinned on that human as Amarantha proposed her deal. It was a foolish bargain she almost certainly couldn’t win—solve the riddle, or play in three trials in three months, all of Amarantha’s choosing.

The alternative, of course, was death.

If she won—and she almost certainly wouldn’t—was freedom for the Spring Court. They only needed to free one High Lord to free them all. Whatever magic Amarantha commanded must be weak, if she had any at all. In the fifty years they’d been locked beneath that mountain, Arina had never seen a whispering of it. 

Solve the riddle and free Tamlin right then and there—no strings attached.

Compete in the trials and free them after. There was a trick they were all familiar with, one that no one would abide by should the human win. The mood in the room had shifted, was sharper, crueler— excited. Everyone wanted to exact their pound of flesh for the horrors inflicted upon them and the people they loved. 

The human couldn’t guess the answer to the riddle, and when the room laughed, there was no amusement behind it. No genuine mirth. They laughed because Amarantha demanded it—laughed because she was so stupid, so convinced of her own invincibility, she couldn’t tell every single person in that room had just silently vowed to do everything within their power to see that human survive no matter the costs. 

She looked tired. Defeated. Whatever she’d seen in Tamlin, he was not the same male under the mountain and she was too focused on trying to get him to admit he knew her rather than focus on what was important. She hadn’t come to save any of them but Tamlin and hadn’t asked to be their unwitting savior.

But as Amarantha had the attor beat the girl into unconscious sleep, she was their savior. Something to rally around. She was dragged away, leaving Amarantha to laugh.

“Oh, Tamlin,” she crooned, leaning over the arm of her onyx throne so her breasts spilled from her dress. “What were you doing all those years? Surely not… that slip of a thing?”

Tamlin said nothing. 

Eris reached between his body and Arina’s, lacing their fingers together before bringing her hand to his lips.

“The answer was love,” he whispered, brushing a kiss against her knuckles. Arina’s body ignited with heat better suppressed before everyone around them was gagging. 

“No one is to tell the human the answers,” Amarantha ordered, using the stolen power of the High Lord to bind them all.  “If you try, I promise you will not like what happens.”

So they couldn’t tell her the answer. They weren’t forbidden from helping her. Everyone in the room had caught this error except Amarantha, who wore her anxiety all over her expression. So Tamlin had managed to convince a human to fall in love with him and his silence had a purpose. She’d thought him easily broken, convinced to take her as a lover with the right combination of words.

But if his heart belonged to another, well…

Arina turned to Eris, heart thudding. Are you awake again? She didn’t dare ask. 

“Father will say we need to wait this out,” he whispered, guessing her thoughts before she was able to voice them. “But I’m tired of waiting.”

“What would you have me do?” Arina breathed in response, though she knew. Eris would want to know what the other courts were planning—none of whom would think to include them. They’d spent five decades play acting that they were enjoying themselves. And Beron would sell his co-conspirators out to save himself. Everyone knew that. 

“You know.”

Arina hadn’t talked in Helion in years . She didn’t dare—not with Beron watching them all so closely, and with the Lady of Autumn still sneaking around to see him. Beron wouldn’t kill his wife, but he would kill Eris’s. If she had to choose, it was an easy one—she’d always choose Eris. Even if it meant lying to an old friend. 

Arina pressed a swift kiss to his cheek, the wheels turning in her mind. She’d need to be careful—Helion wasn’t stupid. He’d know what she wanted, just as he’d know Eris had sent her. Arina needed to lean into his assumptions and instead convince him that he could trust the pair of them.

Eris glanced at her again, something dark crowding his gaze. She didn’t ask, instead making her way toward the long table laden with food. Every time she saw the spread, she knew it was their people who’d toiled to make it. She’d heard rumors of cells crammed to the brim with the lower fae, though she’d never seen it. 

But some, surely, were still outside Prythian made to work. Her people. However trapped she was had nothing on what was going on with them. They hadn’t tried hard enough to free anyone. She was certain it wasn’t just her court wallowing in self-pity. Least of all, the High Lord of Night. As Arina approached, she saw him down his goblet of wine quickly, red forming at the corners of his mouth as he struggled to get all the liquid down quickly. 

He’d poured another before she reached him.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you felt guilty,” she hissed.

“Good think you know better,” he replied, rounding on her so quickly that drops of wine splattered against his inky jacket. She might have believed him had she not been married to a rather clever liar. She knew that haunted fog creeping into his eyes. 

“She should have killed the human,” Arina heard herself say as she poured her wine, not bothering to look at Rhys at all. She didn’t need to. His black mood spilled out of him like shadow, seeping from the cracks he couldn’t keep patched. “Maybe Amarantha will pin her body up on the wall, too.”

There was nothing to gain by provoking Rhysand besides her own death. And when she dared to look at him, she saw he desperately wanted to end her life. 

“I didn’t realize you’d become so blood thirsty.”

Arina shrugged. “What’s the point of giving her hope when we all know how this ends.”

Rhysand took a step toward her. From the corner of her eye, Arina saw Eris pivot, watching the pair of them without moving. 

I don’t need your help, she thought, tugging gently on their shared bond. 

“And how does it end?” Rhysand murmured, daring her to say another word. It was stupid to provoke him—if he killed her, Amarantha was likely to reward him. Eris couldn’t stop him even if he could get close enough to put himself between the pair of them.

��How does it end, lordling?” she heard herself whisper. “You knew that wasn’t the same human from Spring.”

All at once his features shifted, rearranging themselves into boredom. “They all look the same to me.”

He tried to turn, but she grabbed his arm, stopping him. Rhysand looked down, a cruel smile curling over his face. “I can appreciate the interest, lady, but I’m not interested. As fun as it might be to show you how a real male—”

“Oh, gods,” she interrupted, pulling her hand away from him. “We’re even Rhysand. You know something about me, and I know something about you.”

“You know nothing—”

Arina interrupted him once again. “I know you were supposed to be in Spring for Calanmai. And I know you were watching Tamlin. You must have seen her face at least twice.”

“As I said. They all look the same to me.”

Arina glanced at the decaying corpse of the other human. “I don’t think you forget a face like that.”

Arina turned, heart racing in her chest. Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods. She’d turned her brain off to talk to him, but as she walked back to Eris, her good sense came flooding back to her. Rhysand was terrifying and she’d just called him a liar. Worse, she’d betrayed that she didn’t care for Amarantha. He could saunter right up to their High Lady and tell her everything. He didn’t owe Arina anything. No one would believe her if she claimed he, too, was conspiring. 

Rhysand poured himself a third goblet of wine, downing it before he stalked off, a trail of shadow following in his wake. He didn’t look at her as he vanished from the room, off to do whatever males like him did in their free time. Sulk, most likely.

But he wouldn’t rat her out. 

“What was that about?” Eris breathed, pulling her close when she was in grabbing distance. 

“Just doing what you asked,” she replied with what she hoped was a pretty smile. Amarantha may be distracted with her court, but the rest of the people were not. Eris wouldn’t have been the only person watching—wondering. 

“We can’t trust someone like that,” Eris informed her, gripping her elbow to lead her from the Throne Room. His father was already gone, leaving his brothers behind. As they left, Arina caught sight of Tanewen shamelessly flirting with one of the new Spring courtiers wearing a pretty, jeweled bird mask. 

It was probably the only court he hadn’t fucked by then. 

Inside their corner of the mountain, Arina could hear Beron berating a silent Amera from behind closed doors. 

“...hear that you even looked at him, you will not leave this mountain—”

She didn’t want to listen to it. She’d heard it all before. They all knew Beron was never going to kill her, just as they all knew his wife would never love him the way he wanted. Only Beron seemed to think otherwise. 

Eris, too, ignored it. He’d been ignoring his mother a lot lately. How many beatings was he supposed to take on her behalf? At least his brothers sometimes put themselves on the line to spare Eris, too—it was a reciprocal relationship, though Eris tended to take the most. Arina resented her, perhaps unfairly. Her life wasn’t of her own design—but she owed her children something, at least. 

Locked in their bedroom, Arina turned, excited to start plotting with Eris once again. It had been so long that she’d forgotten what it was like to listen to him talk. Eris reached for her, eyes gleaming and oh. 

She didn’t protest when his mouth collided against her own, teeth clashing violently. For months it had been her coming on to him. Her unbuttoning his jacket, her falling to her knees until his eyes closed and he left her fully. She’d wondered, on occasion, where he went. Did he dream of someone else? 

If she didn’t touch him, he didn’t reciprocate and for a moment, it felt good to be held in his arms again. Her relief was beginning to crack, letting her anger and resentment fill in the gaps. Hands flat on his chest, Arina shoved a little just as his teeth sank against her bottom lip.

Blood flooded her mouth as they pulled apart. Eris wiped it from his lower lip with his thumb, eyes wild with warning. He wasn’t taking no for an answer tonight, which only made her want to punish him more. 

“You left me,” she hissed, holding his gaze.

He tried to prowl forward and dismiss her, but Arina darted around the bed. 

Eris watched, head cocked like a predator. He was enjoying her resistance, the utter bastard. 

“Come here,” he growled, but when he tried to step around the bed to snatch her, Arina leapt up on the mattress. There really was no good place for her to go and he knew it. Eris snarled, spinning on his heel to catch her around the waist and drag her to the floor. With her face buried in his shoulder, Arina’s scream was muffled, though loud enough anyone nearby would have heard it. “Why are you mad now?”

“You left me,” she repeated, twisting in his lap to look at him. She wanted to hit him, to scream at him, to vent all her fear and rage out on him until he felt as badly as she did. “I’ve been here the whole time but you…”

Eris exhaled a breath, some of the animal winking out of his expression. “I’m sorry,” he told her, his grip changing. Stretching out his legs, Eris nestled her between his thighs, arms pinning her back to his chest before he rested his chin atop her head. “I don’t want to die down here.”

Arina felt his fear grip her throat as though he’d wrapped his hands around her and squeezed. 

“There’s no way out,” he added, before kissing the top of her head. “And now…”

“Now she’s distracted,” Arina murmured. 

“How much do you know about the first war?” Eris asked, his voice still low—intimate. The erection he sported, once pressed roughly against her spine, was softening as he spoke. Arina was grateful for it. All she wanted was to hear him talk to her again.

She shrugged. “I was a scholar, remember?”

She felt him smile into her hair. “Of course. Then you remember the whole business with her sister? Falling in love with the human Jurian only to be butchered in the end? Amarantha never thought much of humans to start with—they’re only good for slave labor, even now. But when Jurian killed Clythia…it was personal. She’s still wearing his eye, has bound his soul to that ring and she’ll torment him forever for his audacity to think he was ever better than her.”

Eris took a breath. “Now a human has declared her undying love for Tamlin and Amarantha has to be thinking of her sister. She’ll drag this out to prove this woman is no better than Jurian. All we have going for us is for the next month, she’ll be distracted.”

“You don’t think she can win?” Arina asked, thinking of that thin woman with the big, blue eyes. 

Eris snorted. “I’m sure whatever Amarantha is devising for her will obliterate her in moments. 

“So we have a month?”

“Maybe more if she gets help, which I’m sure she will. Everyone will be working on a loophole to tell her the answer to the riddle. We don’t need to the help the human, though. We only need to help ourselves.”

“How?”

“What magic does Amarantha command?” Eris murmured as though he were genuinely answering. “Beyond our own.”

“None.” When he kissed the top of her head, Arina felt like the teacher's best student all over again. Only, back in school, she’d never wanted to undress any of her instructors with her teeth. 

“Exactly,” he breathed, adjusting his hold to pull her tighter. “We won’t be the only ones conspiring to kill her.”

“And your father won—”

“Fuck him,” Eris murmured under his breath, lethally soft. Twisting her neck, Arina looked up at him. 

“Are you…are you sure?”

“Eight hundred years is enough,” he told her, voice so soft it could have been a dream. “And if we’re very, very careful…we can have both.”

“You know that I’m with you, right? Until the very end,” she swore. “Just don’t shut me out. Not again, not ever.”

“I swear,” he promised, swallowing hard. “I swear.”

[valiantartwritingweasel]

Infatuation ❦

The slowest slowburn that ever burned. (If you can even call this a romance)

When “reaction time of a turtle” and “I say three words a day” meet and they start to admire the other in odd ways you also have to squint to see it

Side note: English isn’t my first language and I’ve never written anything this long before

I know there’s a gazillion ways to portray Dottore but in this he’s pretty calm (and odd) 

Gender neutral casual brainrot <3

TW: It’s boring and unreasonably long (almost 7k words man) and I lost the plot like three times

❦

The trip had been way longer than you had expected. You figured: ‘Hey just a few days’ but no, it had been weeks by now and to top it all off you were in a wildly different climate than what you were used to. The warm heavy air stood in stark contrast to the cool clear air back home. And of course there was the stark difference between your usual chillouts at the facility that stood in contrast to the overgrown jungle you were traversing right now. 

You had been given a mission. The Doctor had given you the simple task of retrieving something that you could only describe as a “metal thingy”. Said thingy was now sitting neatly in your pocket as you stomped your way back through the dense forest. You wouldn’t call yourself angry. But you wouldn’t consider yourself calm either. Definitely agitated enough to mutter various disagreements to yourself. Laughable of him to call this task “simple”. 

If his definition of “simple” was it, to have you follow some dusted old map that showed just enough trees and mountains to somewhat navigate the way to some old dusty ruins, only for you to then fight your way into said ruins, to be then met by various doors with fifehundredsixtyseven puzzle mechanisms to solve, to be then met by more enemies, then yea sure, it was simple indeed. 

The whole thing was so hard to overcome that you had even wondered whether or not you were even supposed to come back alive or if he had just used an excuse to send you off to death for the heck of it. Fair guess maybe if you thought about the way your coworkers whispered about the man and his crazy ideas but you did find the metal thingy and it was too strictly guarded for you to take it as something as simple as “send that one to death for fun”. Again. Nothing about this had been simple.

There was nothing you could do about this now though. The job was done and, even though you needed four days for the task instead of two as he had asked of you, you were on your way back to the Port. The probability that someone had watched you during the task was incredibly high too, now that you thought about it. Running was not really an option. Not that you really considered it anyway. Sure, the facility was strange and the vibes felt off sometimes but you kind of faulted your coworkers for you to think that way. They always spun the weirdest stories, similar to teenagers who had just found out that graveyards exist.

You shook the thoughts out of your head and straightened your back to look ahead of yourself. Figuring out how to get back was more important than those tales.

❦

Not only had you reached the Port with no further difficulties, as luck would have it the doctor hadn’t been there ever since you left. If luck chose to stay, then you had a good chance of Dottore not finding out about you exceeding the time limit at all! Not that you necessarily believed every rumor you had heard but that didn't mean that you had to test them yourself.

Instead of worrying about it, you spent your time at the Port in relaxation, leisurely strolling through the streets and eating some local delicacies. You had to admit that Sumeru had started to grow on you. If you ignored the insects and the crushing heat, it had some really pretty plants and buildings. 

You also found a talent in befriending strangers and deeming them your new day-travel companions. You had spent the day doing just that and were just in the process of waving your new short-term friend goodbye as he sailed away from the Port and back to his nation. When you could barely make out his blue hair amidst the waves, you figured you could end your day as well. You turned around, only to be met by a person standing right behind you. “Oh” you coughed embarrassed as you glimpsed at their face. It was Dottore, just inches away from you. “You’re back” you choked out in surprise before you bowed your head a little. “Do you have it?” was his one simple question. “Yeah. Yes, it’s in my room”. A sharp “Get it” was all you needed. He was intimidating indeed. With another nod you took a step around him and hurried off to the house that you stayed at. He caught you so off guard that you had found it hard to focus on any other thoughts except the mission now. You were in and out of your room in mere seconds and were already running back to the docks with great speed.

Upon return you couldn’t spot his figure among the docks so you beelined for his ship instead. The scrap was sitting neatly in your hands and you were careful not to drop it.

You walked on board and wasted no time to enter his little office. He was sitting behind his desk, his hands neatly held beneath his chin. For a second you thought about the way he looked a little out of place in all the wood works around him but you shook your head and wasted no further thought on it. You walked towards him and held out your hands to place the thing on his table. “Here it is.” you eyed him with a hint of curiosity. Why was that thing so important to him? He reached out and took the thing into his hand to eye it before he mumbled “It’s a core”. His tone was…condescending. You could tell that he wasn’t impressed by the fact that you did absolutely nothing to understand what it was for in the first place. You coughed up a little air to cover up the embarrassment creeping up on you and nodded. He continued, “Did you run into trouble?”. His head shifted, indicating that he was, probably?, looking at you. “Well” you started, scratching your head, unsure whether or not you should lie about how much you had actually struggled “some here and there. It was pretty guarded.” He simply nodded before he shifted his attention back to the core at hand. “Dismissed.” You did a small courtly bow before turning to leave his office. You took a deep breath as soon as the door closed behind you. That went…okay. Not as bad as you thought it might. You exhaled the air and shook your head. 

❦

The past few days had been a blur but the one thing that caught your attention was the way your superior had been switching his demeanor every now and then. He went from being calculated and calm to giggly and a little crazed. It was so weird. The shift was never dramatic but it was enough to make a grown man uncomfortable. And you weren’t the only one who noticed. Sometimes you could hear the soldiers whispering, always wondering and fantasizing about the reason for his behavioral change. Though, they spun the regular odd stories that sounded almost fanatical, so you paid them not much mind. 

You were walking around the Docks when you caught a glimpse of the Doctor on his little boat. As if he had sensed your presence his mask matched your gaze and he waved you over immediately. If your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you, he was smiling the smile that graced his features every now and then. An odd grin did he have. You sighed but made a point to not let it show on your expression before you walked towards the bridge. You had stepped foot on it and taken a solid two steps on deck before the boat started to move. Instinctively your hands took hold of the railing. Huh. It seemed like you were done around here. You looked towards the Docks as the ship slowly brought distance between itself and the port. The last thing you saw was a woman dressed in white and a thing floating next to her as they watched you sail away. 

❦

The journey had been pretty boring. It was just you, some fatui soldiers and Dottore and no one was doing much for morale. You could’ve sworn that you once read something about pirates and how they always made sure to include entertainment on long journeys to ensure the mental well being of their crew. Well, this boat had no such policy. No one ever said a word and if they did then only in murmurs. Some of the soldiers just seemed on edge by the Doctor's presence, others just seemed uninterested. You were just bored. 

It took a few days of being on the boat before you finally managed to convince a few soldiers to play cards with you. The day had been nice, the waves played in calm rythms and while the sun was out it wasn’t grilling you alive. Multiple soldiers had moved to the deck and were actually starting to enjoy themselves. You sat among them, in the midst of three soldiers, playing a round of OOH. The rules were pretty simple. You had to slap cards on the table and if you threw the right one you had to yell OOH. You had trouble remembering who came up with that. The soldier next to you had just slapped his cards on the table and was about to let out a glorious “OOH” when Dottore passed your table. As if on command, all four of you kept still with held breath as he passed by. Not only was it unusual to see the man outside of his quarters, it was also obvious that something wasn’t right. He was emanating a weird aura and it almost looked like he was vibrating. It was so odd..Everyone could tell that something was off. And suddenly, as if someone had struck him, the blue haired man crumbled into pieces adorned by dust.

It felt like everything stood still. Everyone's eyes were focused on the spot the man had been standing in. For a minute not even the waves uttered a word. Then chaos broke out and spread like a wildfire. Every third soldier on deck started yelling and accusing the other of treason. All you could do was stare at the crumbled pieces lying on the floor. What was going on? Did he just evaporate- The only thing that finally pulled you out of your shock was a chair that launched past your head. As if awoken by a splash of cold water you shot up from your seat and ducked away into your cabin while you tried to not get into the punchline of a soldier. You figured someone should stop and calm them down but you also figured that it wasn’t going to be you, so instead you locked your door and sat down on your bed. Blurring out the sound of the fight was easy but figuring out what event had just taken place was a hard one. To you it did look like he…died? And an even bigger question, if he had died, what was the cause of death?

❦

The rest of the trip had been awfully awkward and uncomfortable. Even more so than it had been before. After all, your superior had just disintegrated into thin air, leaving the rest of you without a leader. Of course the soldiers manned up, the fight hadn’t gone on for too long but the tension had been on edge ever since.

After the incident the tales about the Doctor had only grown even more ambiguous and fanatical in spirit. Some soldiers uttered rumors about a hitman, others blamed the gods, a fraction wondered if he simply had a stroke and a really small percentage told verses about his life potion juice running out. You paid no mind to them but did in fact wonder along with many: Who would have to pay for the sin of Dottore vanishing? Returning to his facility and having to say that you lost the second Harbinger sounded awfully insane.

So imagine how surprised you and your fellows had been when the man who welcomed you back at the facility docks had been none other than Dottore himself. He stood there in all of his glory, waiting for everyone to see him before he turned around and went back inside. He didn’t take the time to answer questions and everyone was ordered back to work. So all you could do was return to work, everyone feeling dumbfounded and exhausted. All of that ruckus for nothing.

❦

Days went by quite uneventful. The only thing of note you found out was the fact that it had been a known fact, and not a crazy tale, that the Doctor could, in fact, multiplicate himself. You also learned that he had apparently given those segment things up, so to say, which resulted in his copies “passing away”. No one of the attending boat crew had to die for their sins that day. 

You had just thrown on your clothes, ready to face another hard day of making sure everyone was staying hydrated, when you were called into Dottores’ office. You wondered, like any other time it happened, why would he? But you shrugged it off, nodded to the informant and proceeded to make your way to the Doctor’s office (HA). 

You knocked on the door. A low “come in” came in response. You opened the door, stepped inside and made sure to close the door before you walked fully into the room. Your eyes landed on the man sitting at his desk. He had one foot placed on his knee and his head placed on his hand while he held something in his free hand. 

“Sit” It was a clear order that you followed by taking a seat on the free chair on the opposing side. With less distance between you, you could see that he was holding the core that you had retrieved for him weeks ago. “It’s useless” he said before he slammed the thing on the table. He slid it over to you harshly enough for it to make a nasty squeaking noise. He retracted his hand from the object and leaned back into his chair. 

You had your hands in your lap and went stiff in your seat, staring at the core. Were you supposed to give an answer to that? You directed your gaze towards Dottore who was looking at you as if he was waiting for something. You choked down a little spit and answered “Why?”. Clearly you lacked in the thoughtful response department. He let out a sigh “It’s not powered. It doesn’t turn on. It’s useless”. You blinked at him and tried to shoot an apologetic smile “My bad. Is there something I can do to help with that?”. You weren’t sure if you read him right but he seemed to be somewhat satisfied with your answer. Or at the very least it looked like he accepted it as a valid one.

“Nothing you could do right now. I will call for you if that changes.” You nodded but he continued without wasting much time “Get me a coffee”. Taken off guard you let out a surprised “What?”. It took you a long second to remember your place and added “What kind?”. His short lived answer was “Just coffee.” before he waved you out.

You stood up so fast that you almost knocked your knee into the table. But you caught yourself and hurried out of his office and into the kitchen. The whole process of the art of coffee making went past you like a wind. You were used to the task but not to the receiver. Why were you suddenly on coffee duty for the Doctor? It was so odd. Him having an assistant like that had been rare. It was also odd that you had never seen the man as much as you had ever before over the course of the past few weeks. If you had to guess you’d say you’d have seen him like twice a year before that, and that for multiple years. Now you had even seen him die. Well, technically. You took a long exhausted breath while you rubbed your hand on your forehead. It was all so much, especially considering that being Dottores direct assistant probably carried much more weight and consequences with it than just being his subordinate's subordinate. With another deep breath you tried to ground yourself. The thought of having to spend less time with the fanatical workers around you didn’t seem all that bad at least. You took the cup of “just coffee” from the stove and made your way back, careful not to spill any.

He took the coffee without another word, only dismissing you with a wave of his hand. 

❦

Ever since that day you had been in and out of Dottores office on a regular basis. At first it was delivering coffee, then it was messages and then it turned into you running medical files from one room to another and sorting through various of his documents. You could say that the job sounded important but most of the things you sorted through looked quite boring. Of course you never looked past page one but still, most of the headlines and titles sounded like they were about various diseases and financials, so really really really boring. 

You had just put a ton of medical files into chronological order (the Doctor seemed so tidy and clean, why was it such a mess?) when you heard footsteps approaching. By the way they sounded, you could guess that it was the man himself walking into the room. You had memorized the pattern of his footsteps so well, you guessed right almost all the time. Prepared for the interaction you turned around and greeted the man with a bow of your head. He nodded in return and motioned for you to come with him. Then he turned around and walked out of the room. You, of course, followed suit, by now being used to following his silent orders without question. 

You walked with him all the way back to his office, only to be met inside by the man you had mentally deemed the most annoying man you had ever had the displeasure of meeting. Pantalone, the absolute chaotic man of unreasonably high expectations of the world and an unreasonably high drive to start yapping about it. You suppressed an eye roll at the way he greeted you with his fake little smile and his fake little wave and instead greeted him with a fake little smile and a fake little wave of your own. You figured both of you were aware that you detested each other. Dottore paid no mind to the interaction and placed himself behind his desk. He did not sit down but instead stood behind his chair. Pantalone made no move to sit down himself and stood across on the other side of the table, not even glancing at the chair placed before him. You crossed your arms and stood off to the sides. You would've been annoyed at their stupid nonverbal petty fight over who’s cooler, if you hadn’t been wondering about why you were even here in the first place. Sure, Dottore had wild ideas and weird tasks for you but their importance was never as high as listening in on two harbingers. 

The man grinned a half crazed grin towards Pantolini and said “Let’s talk business”. And thus the most boring two hours of your life had begun.

Not only did you not understand more than half of the things the two men mentioned and argued about, you had also started to feel your heel painfully pushing into your leg. No matter what, you would never ever get used to standing around for such a long amount of time, especially not when that time was filled with awkward silence on your side and a strong yearning to step outside the room. Dottore had just been muttering down some reasoning when Pantalone cut him off. “This is not a risk worth taking. Think it through some more and then call for me again. As of now, I am not on board.” With those words he turned, gave you a courtesy fakey smile and sauntered out of the room. You watched him close the door with distaste. You did not stare for long as a sigh caught your ear and a loud metal clunking on wood directed your attention back to the Doctor. Your eyes wandered to his face and…you were looking at Dottores face. You were looking at Dottores' face. Yₒᵤ wₑᵣₑ ₗₒₒₖᵢₙg ₐₜ Dₒₜₜₒᵣₑₛ' fₐcₑ. You could not help but let a gasp leave your lips. It took much out of you to close your mouth in an orderly fashion. His eyes met yours. Much too enamored with his eyes and the burning red color of them, you failed to recognize the irritated expression on his features. He was staring daggers into your soul. 

You came back to your senses by rapidly blinking the embarrassment off your face. 

“He’s insufferable,” he muttered. You nodded in agreement. You didn’t listen enough to know what had bothered him about the man this time but you did overall agree with the statement. “Greedy, greedy, greedy man” he continued to mumble as he slid his mask to the side of the table before he sat down on his chair “Coffee”. You nodded again and hurried off into the kitchen. You were used to getting orders in short sentences now. He knew you knew what he meant seventy percent of the time and he knew that you actually had the courage to ask if you didn’t. Sure, he didn’t hold you to the standards of a genius but he held you to the standard of being honest and.. pretty normal. Which he found had always been hard to find, being the man that he was. 

❦

Days had passed and you were seeing less and less of your coworkers. In turn you had spent much more time at the side of Dottore. You were still in your position of being his assistant. Nothing bad had happened to you ever since, contrary to some peoples’ belief, and you were even starting to have some sort of conversations with the blue haired man. It wasn’t all too much compared to general standards but in Dottores’ standards it was quite a lot. Though it was almost never a conversational exchange. Sometimes he just asked you a question that you had time to think about for the entire day and other times you made the mistake of asking him about one little thing he may take interest in only for him to go on a tangent about said thing for hours. He gave you access to so much knowledge and you disregarded half of it. Not that you didn’t care at all. You just couldn’t remember most of the things he said. You would've had to have some sort of degree in math and science to follow most of his monologues. But you liked listening to him. He had a unique voice and you enjoyed the sound of it. 

He himself loved to talk about his interests, especially when talking about them made him seem like a smart man. Which it did. Most of the time. Sometimes, when you tried to listen and understand what he was getting at, he sounded so smart and eloquent one second, only for him to throw in some wild theories the next second, all while using the vocabulary of a madman. He was either serious or he enjoyed confusing you on purpose. Neither would surprise you. 

You had also learned that, while yes the man seemed somewhat put together, he was indeed a little crazy as people had said. Both intentionally and subconsciously. Most of the time he tried to gaslight you into thinking he was normal but sometimes he couldn’t hide his little grin that reached his eyes in a crazy light whenever he thought a bit too hard about surpassing the gods. Which, oh right, you also found was a fair factor for you to deem him as at least unhinged in spirit. You sometimes thought back to the tales the people had spun about him and while you could see now why they had gained such popularity through the facility, you did not deem them to be fair assumptions about Dottore. He was odd and fairly annoying at times but not creepy. You respected him, of course, but sometimes you felt like you were a rich prince's butler, not the subordinate of a “mad and creepy” genius. 

All of these thoughts and more were rushing through your head while you were once again watching Dottore fly around his lab. He was yapping about some nectar (or something?) while he played around with some chemicals. Or as he would call it, “conducted experimental research”. You were just off to the side, watching him swirl around while listening to his voice. Nothing else occupied your mind. Just you, Dottore and your thoughts in one room. 

Dottore on the other hand, had sensed that you had been absent minded for a while. After he had started to talk about the process of mashing up cashews into soup, he knew with certainty that you weren’t paying attention to his words anymore. Yet your eyes were fixed on him. He still had your attention and that pleased him enough to keep yapping about whatever came to his mind. 

❦

There was one day you remembered vividly. It could’ve easily been a boring day, easy to be forgotten and mushed in memory with all the other days. But the universe and all the stars that resided over you did not like that idea.

You had brought Dottore his seventh cup of coffee that day. A small voice in your head reminded you that more than five cups a day would be too much caffeine for one person but the last time you voiced those thoughts in the Doctors’ presence, he broke a pen. So you figured you wouldn’t do that again. The man had been on edge the entire day, brooding over something he disagreed with. You guessed that it had something to do with Panini but decided not to inquire about it further. You had never been on the receiving end of Dottores’ anger and you liked it to stay that way. His eyes were fixed on his desk and yours were fixed on his. He had stopped wearing his mask around you more frequently. Only when he needed you to focus on something else than his eyes did he put it on. And it worked. 

Now he was bare faced and you were busy watching him, sitting on the chair in front of his desk and letting time pass by with great calm when he muttered “What’s the craziest thing you would do?”. So it was one of those days. You were distracted and answered with half of your mind intact. “You.” The questions he asked were always phrased somewhat simple minded but you liked to think about your answₑᵣₛ… Everything in your body stood still for a moment. Even your heart acted still, waiting for you to process your answer. The more the realization came through, the more your eyes widened. “ᵒʰ” the sound that left your lips was barely audible. You looked at Dottore and your eyes met his. He certainly looked pleased with your answer, the anger that had distorted his features before had resided. He looked… well definitely not as offended as you think he could potentially have been. 

Initially he figured you’d come up with an interesting answer based on creativity, one that could help him take his mind off of things, not the quick unthoughtful one he had received. He could’ve argued that he didn’t like to be called crazy. But then again, who was he to argue now that you had helped him change the topics that had been plaquing mind?

❦

The grin that had plastered itself on Dottores’ features after your simple minded answer followed you into your dreams longer than just one night. The image of it sat deep in your mind and left you to wonder. It didn’t make him look cheerful nor did it make him look intimidating. The first adjective you would plaster on it would’ve been “desirable” but you felt odd just thinking the thought. You shook your head and stared at the ceiling. The only sound that hollowed through the room was an odd whirring noise that could be heard throughout most parts of the building. There was no clock in sight but you didn’t need one to know that you had been lying half awake throughout most of the night again. Which Dottore had been entirely at fault of. His grin was one thing but the man had assigned you to a new room as well. It was closer to his office and further away from the bustle of the facility. He successfully kept you away from the loud bustling of the other workers. In order to keep you focused or whatever. But you needed more time to get accustomed to the lack of voices that had always trailed past your door well past midnight, creating an unwelcome but familiar soundwave to fall asleep to. Without the ruckus outside everything had suddenly been too silent, making way for more room in your head which it could now fill with annoyingly loud thoughts that pestered you through the night. You groaned and pulled your pillow over your face after yet another mental image of that stupid harbinger. “How annoying” you muttered into your pillow before you rolled around to try and find a better sleeping position. 

❦

While you had spent your time going through countless sleepless nights, it seemed that Dottore had not been affected at all. You hadn’t really been counting on him losing his shit over your previous comment but it was still a humbling experience to see him so overly calm and collected, no matter how deep of a look he took into your eyes. 

Honestly, nothing had changed at all. Except for your eye bags of course but you had only yourself to blame for that. Neither your job nor Dottores’ attitude had changed. 

Not until you had entered his lab one day, not without invitation of course, only to see him assemble something that looked like a…marionette? You figured that’s what it had been based on his older clones. You never knew the difference before the incident on the boat but since then you had once caught a glimpse of one singular unfinished clone lying around the lab. You hadn’t taken a closer look at it but the vague image of it still resided in your memory and it fit the image of the half assembled doll you had laid your eyes on that day. The Doctor, who had been standing next to the marionette, waved you over. Once you came close, he immediately put you to work, shoving various body parts and limbs into your arms before informing you about all the places you needed to attach them to.

While you had hardly been able to keep up with his instructions, you didn’t fail to notice that the doll did not look much like Dottore. Of course, it had no head but still you were sure it carried little to no resemblance. No, the doll did not resemble Dottore at all, you just couldn’t figure out who it it looked like instead. It seemed awfully familiar but you couldn’t put your finger on who exactly it reminded you of. 

Nontheless you focused on your work, assembling the limbs with great caution.

Not once did you question his intentions. Any and all information you received, he had laid out on his own accord. And while yes, some might argue that that came from a lack of intelligence on your end, he felt like it came from a place of trust instead. You did not question his intentions because they did not seem a threat to you. All they were to you was just another task, another part of being his assistant. 

He used to think he’d appreciate it if you had a more curious nature but after some time had passed the little curiosity you exhibited had been more than enough for him. You only asked questions when you were curious, never just to fill the silence. Sure, it had been disappointing to see you not take interest in his creations at all but he enjoyed knowing that you didn’t care. He enjoyed the authenticity. He had craved it ever since he was young, ever since people had started lying to him. But you never did. You never lied. 

❦

More time had passed, although you had no way of telling how much time it had been exactly. You had quickly lost count of the days and never cared enough to ask. You had not seen any coworkers at all ever since you moved rooms but you honestly could barely care less. The last time you had crossed paths with one, it was a woman, one of those fanatics, she had whispered warnings to you. Warnings about the Doctor and his weird habits. You had half a mind to agree with her that, yes, the man had the oddest habits indeed, but you had mentally clocked out once she had started to mention his unstoppable desire to peel off the first layers of fat his victims carried under their skin as, according to her, that was what had granted him immortality. After that revelation you figured that you did not care if you would never come across any of your coworkers ever again. You understood why they were thrown off by their superior. Of course you did, you had spent most of your time with him by now, he was odd for sure.  But you would never get used to their spooky tales about his person. Safe to say, you would gladly live without them. 

The more you grew accustomed to your new life, the more satisfaction he experienced. He enjoyed watching you settle into your new life and he enjoyed your willingness to solve whatever problem he threw your way. Of course he would have to be careful not to overstep the line of using your talents to his advantage but weirdly enough he didn’t feel the need to do so. Your presence made him feel pleased enough as it was. To his surprise, he found that he did not want to jinx that. He liked having you close, without having to use an ounce of force for once. 

You stayed out of your own will and he found peace in that. 

❦

It had been months since he had recruited you into his close vicinity and he hadn’t regretted it once. He found that you were reliable, smart and talented with your hands. One time, it had been a few days ago, he had watched, mask placed on his features, as you carefully knitted another marionettes' limbs together. He found the way you moved your delicate fingers satisfying to watch. When you were done with your stitches he had carefully taken your hand in his own and moved it closer to his face as he inspected it. “Close enough”. He didn’t mean to say it out loud but he figured it didn’t matter. One look at you let him know that you were so distracted by his action, you clearly did not care about anything beyond that. He gave a sly grin as an answer to your awestruck expression. Then he placed a delicate kiss on your fingers before letting go of your hand. He proceeded to not waste more time on more unnecessary gestures and focused on inspecting the marionette instead. You had done excellent work on the limbs, much as he had expected. “Wait in my office” he mumbled the order absent mindedly while he was gazing down at the doll. He watched you leave through the corner of his eyes. Then, when you had finally closed the door of his lab, he picked up the marionette and carried it to a closet that he had kept locked for no one but him to see.

He opened it and placed the marionette next to the other few that had been in there. He hadn’t perfected any of them yet but he knew he was getting closer. Of course, the goal had initially been for him to reach higher levels of humanity but after he had lost all his process he felt inclined to be bored at the thought of doing it all over again with the exact same recipe to follow. But replicating someone else, well you, now that sounded interesting. Analyzing you had been a fun activity for him over the past weeks. You had many good qualities, good morals and a cute face. Which personally he did not care for but it did cross his mind once, so he figured that would be a popular opinion among others as well. Overall he felt that your presence, may it be through more individuals, would not cause as much terror as his own always had. 

He closed the closet and locked it tight. Then he took off his mask and stepped towards the door to his office. He had already found out so much about the way you answered and thought about things, yet he felt inclined to find out even more. 

You had been standing in his office for a minute or two. It bored you but recently you had found that most things did. After the minutes had passed the door opened and the Doctor came walking in, carrying a sense of purpose in his steps. The door closed easily behind him as he disregarded his mask on a nearby shelf, only for him to step towards you. You didn’t have much time to formulate any coherent thoughts or figure out a reaction to anything, as he had simply waltzed over, cupped your face in his hands and proceeded to place a calculated kiss on your lips. 

Ever since that day, all the barriers of distance that may have stood between you two before were gone. Instead you had only spent more time at his side now and he had welcomed that change with a multitude of questions to ask you. Of course, sometimes he still digressed into monologues of his own, but he had found a liking in listening to your thought out answers and views as well. It surprised you but you didn’t mind. The only struggle you found with that had been the lack of stories you had in mind whenever you thought to answer with something from your life. Most of the stories you knew were about him after all and even those you barely remembered.

He seemed pleased with you either way though, so you figured it didn't really matter. 

And with that, unbeknownst to you, he had found the perfect subject for his studies. You on the other hand had found solace in your work and his presence now, never wasting a thought on anything that didn't have anything to do with your new routine. 

❦ - le fin

I’m thinking their voicelines about each other would be among the lines of like

You about him:

“The Doctor? Oh *ahem*, yes I would consider him a trustworthy companion. Don’t give other peoples’ comments about him much thought. He’s pretty normal, all things considered. I would know, I’ve worked with him for a while now. Anyway, I should take my leave now. Good luck. What?.. Oh no, i can't stay, I'm really busy. I'm sorry. See you”

Him about you:

“Yes, they have been much help to me over the past few years….What? You want to see them? They're busy, try again another time… A message?....No, you can’t take them with you. Find someone else to do your work for you. Now leave.”