shubhamsingh112211

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

the game i downloaded today had blueprints to make a robot so obviously i prioritised that

bUT IT TURNS OUT THE LITTLE GUY COLLECTS LOOT AND TIDIES UP RESOURCES AFTER ME AND PUTS THEM AWAY IN STORAGE AND HE DOESN'T ALWAYS PUT THEM IN THE RIGHT CHEST BUT HE DOES EVERYTHING WITH HEART

I'M ALREADY CRYING AT THIS POINT BUT IT GETS WORSE BECAUSE HIS NAME IS ANTONIO. HE CAME WITH THE NAME. WHEN I BUILT HIM. ANTONIO.

i'm on the floor sobbing

[zooone]

" OH, SATORU ?! "

in which ?! - gojo doesnt show up to an extremely important meeting, and you find him passed out on his desk. poor guy.

words ?! - 2.2k

warnings and content ?! - swearing, teacher!reader, gojo is pathetic, reader hates gojo in the beginning but she takes care of him after 🙂‍↕️

an ?! - someone said gojo wants to be a sugar baby cuz he just wants to be taken care of for once and i went insane. also requests r open so plz send some!!

masterlist ?!

satoru gojo,

satoru fucking gojo,

of course he wouldn't show up to the meeting that she was pestering him about for days. of course he wouldn't show up to the meeting that she stressed was probably the most important hour or two of his life. of course he would leave the seat next to her empty and completely embarrass her.

she made it extremely clear to him, even going so far as to make sure he didn't have any missions in that time slot. but even with the the reminders and the sticky notes she left on his desk, he still somehow managed to be a no-show.

"satoru, don't forget about the meeting in two days!"

"i'll be there, don't worry" a fucking lie now, "you gotta stop worrying so much."

her immediate thought was that he assumed the meeting was below him. that the almighty satoru gojo was just far too important for mandatory meetings. she was seething in her chair thinking of all the excuses satoru gojo could possibly make, and how she could argue about each and every one of them. throughout the meeting, she scribbled a few into her notebook, fingertips turning to a near white as she gripped her pen with such hatred.

and as she lurched herself through the door, bag nearly falling off her shoulders, she would stomp down the hallway. her fists clenched and her shoulders to her earlobes.

as she spotted his classroom, she noticed that his classroom's lights were still on. and a million other thoughts fueled her angered mind, making her eyebrows clench. he skipped on a crucial meeting just to hang out in his classroom?

clicks and clacks of her heels echoed throughout, and she hoped satoru could hear it as a warning.

satoru gojo, however, could not hear it,

as he was face down against his desk, drool dripping onto the wood. his blindfold was halfway off, making for a nice barrier between the hard desk and his forehead. a pen laid between his fingers, along with the papers under him.

"satoru! you're-" she yelled, before stumbling back a bit and covering her mouth. she gazed her eyes upon his sleeping figure (half surprised that he was a being who was able to sleep), and she sighed softly. "satoru?"

more clicks of her heels as she walked in front of his desk, examining the full scene. he was in the middle of lesson planning, his messy chicken scratch all over a spare piece of paper. he was practically the only one who could understand his notes. but he preferred it that way. it felt more personal.

although his snowy hair covered his face, she could see the tips of his ears as they were a slight reddish tone. and as if on instinct, she sighed out a soft, "oh satoru."

her eyebrows furrowed even more now, however not due to anger but due to pity. she frowned, looking around the room. crumpled up balls of paper scattered around the classroom, of course accompanied by unsharpened pencils and erasers with poked holes in them.

on satoru's desk was a small schedule or to-do list, and it looked like he had to report a million different missions. he's been on so many lately with the recent influx of curses, and it didn't register in her head how tiring it must've been. after all, satoru came to work everyday with a smile on his face and a joke on his lips. he was always so happy. this was a completely different side of him. it made her frown.

she decided she would help, starting with picking up miscellaneous items from the ground. her heels had been removed at this point in order to keep the noise to a minimum.

but the plan was ruined,

the moment she got up from practically crawling on the floor, her head clashed with a nearby desk. it caused a loud thud to echo around the classroom, followed by her faint "ouch."

"hey!" and satoru sprung his head up, blindfold covering one eye and spit running down his chin. his voice was raw and raspy. it had a sort of weak undertone. but weak and gojo couldn't possibly be in the same sentence. "hey - put - putit down - i got- it-"

he was delirious.

"satoru - oh - go back to sleep -" she spoke, voice adjacent to that of a mother. it had the tenderness yet urgency that reminded satoru of his youth.

"y- y'can't tell me what to do!" his mouth barely opened as he laid back in his chair with his head thrown back. a soft groan escaped his dry lips.

"satoru-" she got up, one hand holding the painful sting on her head, the other reaching out for the man in front of her. "gosh, you're burning up, satoru -"

"no - no 'm not - im fine -" he tried to swat her hand away with a weak gesture, but ultimately it failed. his eyelids felt like they were too heavy, even for the strongest sorcerer of the modern day. "'m not sick-"

"you are," the corners of her mouth bent downwards. "i think you're overworking yourself."

his ivory lashes fluttered open slightly, squinting at the sudden light that met his cerulean eyes. "no- 'm just fine -"

"how much sleep have you been getting?" now she really sounded like a mom.

"ten hours!" satoru whined, trying to put his blindfold back on. "heheh. just kiddin'."

"satoru-"

"free hours. maybe. sorta." even his chuckle was raspy. a good chug of water would feel like heaven to him. "six eyes 're tellin' me you're worried. i - i told'ya ta stop worrying-"

even through a delirious fever and a couple hours of sleep, he was the one trying to put the spotlight on her. it made a sinking feeling in her stomach, one that made her bottom lip stick out.

"three hours is not good, satoru. especially with your technique and all -"

"i've got rct-" he whined, his arm resting over his blindfolded eyes. his pen was still in his hand, and a mere twitch would cause it to hit the floor. "im not in highschool anymore, 's okay - im- the strongest-"

she didn't want to argue back at an incoherent satoru, so she just continued to pick up items from the ground. but satoru, even with his blindfold and arm over his eyes, noticed her doing so.

"h-hey - hey, stop-" he pouted, a small cough following. "don't do that-"

"im just trying to help you, satoru." she gently spoke, like she was hushing a child. there was dust and gunk all over her fingertips. he definitely hadn't cleaned up in a while.

satoru nervously chuckled, using weak and shaky hands to unbutton his uniform. "heh, is it hot in here or 're you just happy to - see me?"

"that's- not how it goes," she scrunched her eyebrows at him, watching as he struggled to fiddle with his buttons. "let me help you."

she expected him go start whining and arguing again, but he didn't. without words, he let her slowly take care of the buttons of his uniform. the silence could be pierced with one of the dull pencils on the ground. his body heat radiated onto her fingertips, making her palms slightly sweaty.

by now, his blindfold was loose and falling off his face, and she could catch a glimpse of his feverish grin through her peripherals. thankfully, he had a thin tank top on underneath his uniform.

her touch stayed gentle as she removed the sleeves, her nails grazing upon his biceps. his laugh was small and whimpery. "hey, that tickles."

"s-sorry," she stammered, gulping down a bit of her saliva. his arms were hard as a rock, even when he was relaxed, and it didn't help that his skin was burning hot. literally, and figuratively. she noticed some faint, almost translucent hairs on his arm.

"'s okay. its nice." he rasped, his head tilting slightly. "you're nice."

"thank you. i just want to help you." and his uniform top was finally off. he let out a groan as the colder air stung his searing skin, and she noticed his abs clenching underneath his thin tank top. "better now?"

"mhm," he responded, his delirious smirk turned into a toothy grin. "y'might get sick if - if you stay 'round me."

"that's okay." she let out a shallow breath. her top priority was him at the moment, so she wasn't thinking about the busy days ahead of her. "don't you have a spare room here?"

"the floor above." he wiped his lidded eyes, an idle pout still on his lips. she couldn't believe that the same man who always had color on his face and a honeyed voice was here now like this. she felt like she should've seen the signs coming. "i shouldn't sleep i have - i have to lesson plan -"

"you're going to sleep, satoru." she said sternly, yet with a soft edge to her tone. "c'mon, get up."

"ugh, don't t-tell me what ta do-" he groaned, but he still stood up. his tall figure wobbled as he felt his blood rush. his joints fell weak, like he wasn't supposed to be even standing up. he collapsed against her, body weight and heat pressing up against her.

she was strong, there was no denying how she fought during missions, but him falling onto her caught her off guard. he sandwiched her between himself and the chalkboard, exerting a yelp from her throat.

"woah, i got you -" she grunted, pushing him upright. "i got you, satoru."

"'m tired." was all he could muster from his lips. "so tired."

"i know, i know, its okay." she whispered. he was more straightened out now, but he still leaned slightly towards her. she put his arm around her shoulder to help him walk adequately. "we're gonna take you to your room, okay?"

he hummed a response, eyes drooping again. his feet were practically dragging behind them, but she was able to guide him properly through the hallway.

"careful, we're turning," she would warn everytime there was an abrupt shift in the hallway. and he would just groan softly to show that he was still alive.

by now, she was sweating. the exertion of his warm skin rubbing up against hers made such a friction, not to mention the fact that she was basically carrying the taller man. but it felt good. it felt right.

once they reached his room, she fumbled around his pockets to get his keys. he groaned low in his chest, almost sounding like a purrr, as he felt her touch through his pants.

she recognized the layout to be similar to the student dorms, and she was able to locate his bedroom easily. of course, not without examining his place. the walls were surprisingly bare for his colorful personality. the big fake plant in the corner was the only noticeable thing about the whole living room. however, it was too dim to see.

she set him down onto his bed (and of course, his sheets were blue) and laid his soft blanket on top of him. he looked like he went back to sleep within two seconds, but as she was halfway through his doorway, he heard him and his blanket stir.

“stay,” he whispered over the decently loud ac. but she could still hear the desperation in his voice.

“oh,” she turned around, seeing his blue eyes barely open from underneath snowy lashes. “i was gonna go back to your classroom to clean up more-”

“stay, please.”

she let out a shallow sigh through downturned lips. she stared at the strongest sorcerer as he scooted over in his bed, allowing her room to lay. her heart stung a little bit at the sight, the dryness in her throat just adding to the sensations she felt.

“i have spare clothes you can borrow,” he frowned, lazily gesturing to his large closet. “they’re comfy.”

it was clear he was trying to use anything to convince her to stay, despite him being worried about her health. even if it was selfishly, he just wanted her near.

a small smile laid on his chapped lips when she went into his closet, picking out a t-shirt of his and going into the bathroom. through the white door, he could hear her softly humming to herself, and it felt like a lullaby to his reddened ears.

his gaze softened when he saw her, despite the piercing bathroom light. she just looked so beautiful. he knew that, of course, he’s known ever since they first met. but when she had her hair up in a bun and his shirt draped over her shoulders, she looked like a goddess. he would’ve said so even without his feverish state. she was just so perfect to him.

she walked over to the other side of his bed, flopping herself down. she didn’t realize how much her muscles ached until her body met the soft mattress. all of their surroundings smelled like him, a minty sort of scent flooding her nose. he was about to doze off again, back flattened against his sheets, but she scooted over and hugged him. the blanket plus his body heat was enough to make her start sweating again, but she still wiggled up against him. her fingers were idly tracing shapes on his chest while she continued to hum.

“thank you,” he whispered, voice crackling so much she nearly missed his words. he snaked his large hand to her back, pulling her impossibly close. it felt so intimate that small tears began to prod behind his eyelids.

“you’re welcome, satoru.” she responded, her tone still gentle. “goodnight.”

8.9.24

masterlist ?!

[shamera]

An Oar Upon the Water (MLC ficlet)

Fandom: Mysterious Lotus Casebook Character/Pairing(s): Di Feisheng / Li Lianhua / Fang Duobing Rating: PG Warning: none? fluff! DreamWidth link

"There are some people who leave impressions not so lasting as the imprint of an oar upon the water." -Kate Chopin

Despite his reputation, Li Lianhua didn’t always work as a physician for money.

Of course he didn’t, not when he saw sick children lining the streets or parents offering what little they had if only someone would help— and he could help. Perhaps it was unwise to use his Yangzhouman in those cases, but he once tried to make the world a better place and it turned out to be a habit hard to break.

For the poorer families, he often got cases of vegetables (he would accept seeds for payment as well) or whatever homemade kits of items they could afford to give away. Once, a young girl gifted him with a tiny wood carving for helping her injured brother.

“It’s my favourite,” she lisped in a mock-whisper, holding it up for him with both hands. She was missing at least two of her front teeth, and had her hair barely contained in a childish bun on the side of her head. “Brother made it for me.”

Li Lianhua had knelt before her to keep her at eye level, a little tired but not overly so from his session. “You should keep it, then. It must be worth more than anything in the world.”

She brightened at his acknowledgement, all but thrusting the little wood piece at his chest. “It is! But you have it, okay? Brother can make a new one for me now.”

And thus Li Lianhua ended up with various knick-knacks in Lotus Tower that he just couldn’t bear to throw away.

—

After the cumulation of everything, Li Lianhua returned to Lotus Tower filled with trepidation. With nothing else to do (he had practically been ordered under house arrest! He was rarely left alone, and even when he was, Hulijing barked loudly every time he walked outside the door!), he found himself organising boxes and drawers in an attempt to keep busy.

By the time Fang Duobing came back, slouching a little from exhaustion from dealing with angry officials who could hardly believe the results (and arrests) from a case, he found Li Lianhua in the middle of a chaotic mess on the ground, piles of random trinkets thrown atop the table and chairs and floor.

“What are you doing?” The younger man asked, mentally despairing at the idea of cleaning all that up in order to make room for dinner. He crept close, toeing the mess warily.

It was Hulijing, sprawled across Li Lianhua’s lap for a nap, who twitched an ear and acknowledged Fang Duobing’s presence first, opening a single eye and then huffing a breath before going back to her nap.

Li Lianhua, on the other hand, took a long moment before he looked up from his inventory, ink dotting the edge of his sleeves as he examined several wooden objects before picking up the wet brush that was resting a little too close to his clothes and writing something down on paper. He looked up only after he was finished.

“Xiaobao,” he acknowledged warmly. “How did it go?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Fang Duobing replied, raising his chin proudly. He leaned over a large stack of books on the table. “What are you doing?”

“Organising.” Li Lianhua responded absentmindedly, and then paused. He gestured Fang Duobing forward with a hand. “Come here.”

It took him a moment to carefully step over the mess, and then lean down as Li Lianhua gestured him closer again, waiting as the man took one of the small wooden pieces and pressed it against the nearly empty plate of ink set on the side of the floor. Then Li Lianhua grabbed him by the hand and pressed the wooden bit against his skin.

“Good job on the last case.” Li Lianhua told him, and then lifted the wooden piece, making a pleased noise at what it revealed.

Fang Duobing lifted his hand, at first bothered by the ink stain and then amused as he saw the six petal flower impression left on his skin. “Thanks. What’s this?”

“I couldn’t figure out the shape of it.” Li Lianhua told him, setting the wooden stamp back down on the ground.

Fang Duobing gave only a moment’s dubious glance at the paper next to Li Lianhua, and then decided to ignore the small lie. He was coming to realise how Li Lianhua would speak, truth and lies mixed together in the grand scheme of things at all times, and this was one of those moments where he was deflecting with a small lie, one that was far too easy to pick out. It had taken him months originally to realise: Li Lianhua was actually a pretty bad liar.

“Is that a seal?” Fang Duobing asked, lifting his hand to better examine the shape. The petals were roughly carved, and the ink was slightly blotchy, bleeding a bit onto his skin already. It was cute, the size no bigger than a fingernail. “Did you make it?”

Li Lianhua shook his head absentmindedly. “Given to me, I think.”

Fang Duobing made a considering noise, and thought about Li Lianhua pressing the stamp against his skin to tell him he did a good job. “I’ll get you a better one. Something lotus-shaped. And cinnabar ink.”

“What use would I have for that?” Li Lianhua asked. He was already examining something else in the pile next to him, head turned away. “I have no official documents to sign.”

Fang Duobing gave a considering hum as he examined the flower on his hand, and smiled. “I’ll get you one, anyway.”

—

Wuyan paused in his daily report as Di Feisheng turned his head slightly to read the document next to him with the same apparent disinterest as usual.

“Ahh.” He blinked as his leader’s gaze turned toward him at the uncharacteristic hesitation. “Apologies, Director. You have, ahh—”

Di Feisheng was dressed impeccably as always, deep violet robes underneath a thick patterned black overrobe held tightly together by black leather wrist guards and belt, both sewn with silver edging. Everything was put together well, perfectly groomed, and his hair was in its familiar crown, yet—

Wuyan pointed to his own cheek and said, “You seem to have something here.”

The ‘something’ was barely more than a smudge of ink, but one that formed the shape of a six petaled flower, only the slightest bit smeared.

Surprisingly, the Jinyuan Alliance leader smiled slightly. “Yes.”

Wuyan cleared his throat, and decided not to comment on it further. Considering Di Feisheng had come back for the reports directly from Lotus Tower, very little was going to actually surprise Wuyan at this point.

He’d just have to ensure no one else commented on it later.

—

When Di Feisheng made his way back to Lotus Tower just after the sun set, the floor was cleared of clutter once more, everything orderly and tidy and wiped clean. The fire under the kettle was lit, the flame small but bright and warm in the autumn evening. There were several pots bubbling happily, emitting smells of herbs and medicine that stung his nose slightly.

Li Lianhua was seated next to the pots, hunched over slightly and mending a rip in some dark green robes, rattan fan set down next to him.

“Where’s the brat?” Di Feisheng asked in lieu of a greeting, seating himself next to Li Lianhua.

“Xiaobao took Hulijing down to the stream,” Li Lianhua responded, not bothering to look up from his task. “And since you have your hands free, you can help me fan the pots.”

Di Feisheng thought of refusing for only a moment (mostly to see Li Lianhua's reaction) but then took up the fan, keeping his movements slow enough to feed the flames but not fast enough to agitate. He watched as Li Lianhua carefully mended the rip with a dark thread, and then finally tied off the end with a clumsy double knot before snipping the excess and smoothing out the fabric triumphantly.

“That should do it,” Li Lianhua said. “Before I put this away, did you have— A’Fei.”

Di Feisheng raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement, still fanning.

Li Lianhua raised a sleeve to hide his smile. “You didn’t wipe it off? I thought you were angry at Fang Xiaobao for that. Should I—?”

“Leave it.” Di Feisheng said, halting Li Lianhua’s movement toward a rag. “It’s fine.”

“Did anyone else see it?”

Of course they did. Di Feisheng hadn’t exactly hidden from his meetings. None other than Wuyan dared to comment on the flower mark on his face.

“I should have hidden it,” Li Lianhua continued, tone amused.

“Where did you put it, then?”

Li Lianhua indicated toward the dresser by the door, close enough they could reach it without getting up. “I covered the ink earlier.”

Di Feisheng leaned over, reaching across over Li Lianhua’s warm back to grab the little wooden stamp, and then took a moment’s deliberation before grabbing the ink plate as well, pulling it back toward the table. Li Lianhua was watching him with a quirked smile, heading tilted as if questioning what he was doing.

He put the fan down and uncovered the ink plate to dip the stamp in, and then reached toward Li Lianhua even as the man leaned away with a huff of amusement.

“Oh no,” Li Lianhua said. “You don’t get to turn this around on me! I wasn’t the one who left that on your face!”

“Why not?” Di Feisheng asked, taking it as a challenge as he moved to keep the man within reach. “Fang Duobing has this mark too, doesn’t he?”

“He’s probably washed it off by now— A’Fei!”

Di Feisheng darted to reach around the mended robe Li Lianhua was using as a makeshift shield, and feinted in one direction only to push into the other man's personal space, leaving him no room to retreat if he didn’t want to get up from the chair, until Li Lianhua laughed from the sheer absurdity of it and Di Feisheng managed to slip a hand to cup the bottom of his head and gently press the stamp between his brows.

Li Lianhua's smile softened, “A huadian? Really?”

Di Feisheng found himself smiling in return. “It suits.”

Outside, the sounds of paws running on the road reached their ears moments before they heard Fang Duobing call out, “I’m back! We got a lot of fish in the traps— should we smoke it overnight?”

Li Lianhua gave Di Feisheng an amused, challenging look as the latter let him go and pulled back just as the door opened to let both Fang Duobing and Hulijing inside from the cold.

“Lao Di!” Fang Duobing greeted cheerfully. He was carrying a stick laden with fish tied to the end, arm bracers missing and his sleeves rolled up slightly to expose his forearms. “When did you get back?”

Then he took in the scene and stopped in his tracks, laughing at the two men with flower stamps on their faces sitting on the same bench.

Di Feisheng was gracious enough to let the young man laugh for several long moments before he handed the wooden stamp to Li Lianhua and commented casually, “I’ll hold him down.”

Li Lianhua accepted the object graciously, also taking the entire ink plate as Di Feisheng stood up. “Alright.”

“Wait, wait, wait! You’re not serious, are you? Wait!”

Li Lianhua smiled and made sure to press the stamp down extra hard in the ink.

[numbur1goobah]

[TW: GORE]

I'm literally scaring myself just looking at them..

Anyway, I got the random idea to do this out of nowhere, soo.. if this was a horror game I would shit my pants, here is my rough idea so far:

[Horrorbots]:

(It would probably be multiplayer but doesn't have to be played with other people, the main story: probably some teens breaking into private property, jumping over fencing and getting in, it being restricted and prohibited after multiple people went missing with no evidence left behind, leaving the town to cower in fear and just leave the wooded area alone as a whole)

It would probably be a fairly open map, still not sure exactly what your tasks would be, but I'm sure I'll come up with things with friends or you guys could suggest ideas and stuff idek

Megatron = [LORD]:

He is blind and he can't see anything, he is huge and powerful and relies on only sound, so you wouldn't be able to sprint around him or make too much sound or you are literally chop liver. Weakness is deafening sounds, it will hurt his audio receptors and momentarily make him unable to hear anything

Optimus = [PRIME]:

The leader of the operation, he is able to warn the other bots through comm link, and send them after you. He is pretty fucking fast and twinky, probably climbs the fucking trees and watches you above so make sure you aren't always watching the ground.. Weakness is flashing your flashlight in his face multiple times, bro has epilepsy leave the old man alone

Bumblebee = [HIVE]:

HIVE can't run for shit, their leg is fucked up and they limp around with eery ass static screeching and groaning that messes with your head making your vision blurry and shit, he would have a mechanic similar to the endos in Fnaf security breach, where you have to look at him and don't face away. He probably hides under things and crawls more than walking. Weakness is literally just staring at him too long, and he will run away in shame, he is self conscious don't be rude

Sooo yeah.. that took unnecessarily longer than expected but I like the concept, and would probably watch people play this all day.. I definitely have to think more about mechanics that would be in it.. like more on the story, items you can pick up, and things you can do.. I'll also add more characters, but I prefer if people suggest them, because I'm not adding every single goddamn Transformer... (Preferably G1 based, maybe with some exceptions)

[freya-duke]

A Killing Melody

—————————————————————

A soft song was heard in the depths of the woods, it was heard each and every night, it was light and soft, as if the song that was sung was a lullaby. The woods are never to be entered as long as that soft song goes on, everyone always says, “No matter how sweet the melody, it’s deadly, it’s a killing melody and you are never permitted to enter these woods.”. No one can understand why or how such a sweet song can have such a tragic end. No one but some dumb teens, some dumb teens that seem to not know that actions always have a consequence. ————————————————————————————————————

“You guys I really don’t think we should- What about the warning, I don’t think we should honestly…”

“You’re being a wuss, now shut up and either follow us or stay, we don't need you complaining about how quiet we should be or where we should step. If you are so worried about what your “precious mommy” would say then stay behind.”

“Ash- stop being rude-”

“Oh shut up Richie- I wouldn’t be so rude if he wasn't such a “Mama’s boy” all the fucking time.��

By this time Ash had hopped over the small wooden fence that covered the woods, Richie hopping the fence, following behind. Richie looked back towards Ellijah, expecting to see him walking away or gone, but he wasn't walking away nor did he leave, Ellijah had hopped the fence to follow the other two boys and he was next to Ash.

A loud smack rang throughout the forest, Ellijah had hit Ash. His face was red with the imprint of a hand, he looked stunned that Ellijah had the guts, the courage, to actually hit him. Richie didn’t know how to react, just standing there in disbelief that Ellijah, the same Ellijah that was just complaining about going in the forest, the same Ellijah that never stood up for himself, had hit Ash.

“Don’t you dare call me that, I am not a “mama's boy”, and don't you even think about saying anything else about my mother, no “precious mommy” or shit like that you hear me”

Ellijah’s voice deepened, his voice laced with anger, his face darkened. Mumbling something under his breath we walked away from the two boys, reaching and hopping the fence once more, disappearing into the dark, leaving the two alone.

“What a dick, let's go Richie, find out where that shitty melody is coming from.”

Richie just nodded his head, following after Ash, leading the two deeper into the forest.

Half an hour later, the two boys were deep into the forest, far away from the small wooden fence that should have held them back yet didn't. Huffing the boys sat down under a big looming tree, taking a break from their walk.

“When is that dumb fucking melody gonna start, its been 30 minutes already and that shit hasn’t been sung once.”

“Maybe it just needs more ti-”

Stopping mid sentence, Richie and Ash looked at one another, the song had started. It was odd to them hearing it, something that they were only able to hear from a distance seemed so close now. The two looked at each other, gasping in awe, rising from their resting spot the boys looked around trying to find the direction the melody came from yet it seemed to come from all around.

The wind had picked up tremendously, tearing off the leaves from branches and bushes that were planted in the forest ground. The wind was gushing, switching from left to right, leaving the boys to shut their eyes to keep dirt from getting in.

After a couple minutes of the wind blowing and gushing it soon died down, leaving the boys stunned by the sudden wind.

“The FUCK was that”

“How should I know! I’m just as confused as you are Ash”

“Confused my ass, fuck this shit. I ain’t getting caught up in some freaky fucking storm.”

“Hold up dude! Our shit we can’t just leave it-”

“Fuck that, grab it if you want but im out”

Ash started walking away, not looking back, just looking forward.

“Ash wait- please”

“I told you, come with me now or grab the shit and get left behi-”

Looking back toward Richie who was grabbing the items that had been dropped, Ash saw a blinding light behind him. He stopped in his tracks, gasping as he shielded his eyes from the blinding light.

“There’s some sort of fucking light behind you richie, be careful”

“What are you even talking about- it’s almost pitch black out here-”

Screaming, Richie was pulled back,,pulled into the white light, pulled into the tree, everything being dropped and scattered.

“ RICHIE! RICHIE WHERE THE HELL DID YOU GO”

Ash ran towards the tree, kicking and hitting it, he screamed and screamed, yelling to whatever took his friend to give him back. His knuckles were bruised and bloody at this point, his feet were aching, his head pounding. He then just stopped, tears streaming down his face, wiping his face with his bloodied hands, he fell to the ground.

“Richie… I'm sorry man. I’m sorry I dragged you out here with me, I should have listened to him..”

‘SNAP’

Quickly turning, he looked behind him, yet seeing nothing.

“Is someone there? Richie is that you-”

“He’s dead Ash. You killed him. I warned you, I told you it was dangerous coming out here. But did you listen? No- because you NEVER FUCKING LISTEN”

“You? What are you doing here- What do you mean he’s dead- he can't be.. Wait- how did you find me? I thought you left. Why are you here Ellijah..?”

Ellijah looked at Ash, walking towards him a twisted smile came across his face. Ash started scooting back, trying to escape the boy yet to no avail soon hitting the tree with his back. Looking up to Ellijah, he covered his head with his arms, waiting to be striked yet it never happened.

The wind started blowing harshly once more, that white light returned, lighting brighter than before. The song also had started once more, Ash was confused, he looked in every direction yet couldn't see anything, he went into sensory overload, he couldn’t see anything but white, he couldn’t hear anything but that song and couldn’t feel anything but the dirt that was underneath him.

Minutes after it all had stopped, Ash opened his eyes and stood up. He saw Ellijah and a tall woman in white standing next to him. They looked like each other, same hair, same eyes, same face.

Looking at Ellijah, Ash’s face turned white, his mind wandered back to the beginning, back to the fence.

‘Flashback’

‘Mumbling something under his breath we walked away from the two boys, reaching and hopping the fence once more, disappearing into the dark, leaving the two alone.’

“I warned you Ash and you didn't listen and you know what, maybe you're right Ash, maybe I am a ‘Mama’s boy’.

The song started once more, but this time Ash was able to see where it was coming from. It was coming from the women in white. Everything went pitch black, and the only thing that was heard was the screams of Ash, who had been pulled back into the tree.

The melody had then continued, soon not being sung by one person but now by two…

[loousir]

[Naga] Snake Bites

Naga Male x Bold (& kinda dense) Artist Male Reader

Syerca

Setting: Mostly a Naga's cave deep into a forest.

Warnings: Soft lime at the end (marking/mate), bad (was the first oneshot in the original book), slight mention of naga attacking reader

Masterlist

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

The fall breeze blew gently, tossing some fallen leaves around some worn shoes. The man who wore said shoes brushed away the strands of hair that had fallen into his face. He stared out into the woods, eyes following a gorgeous path until it disappeared.

"Hope you don't plan on goin' out there, " An older resident said. They were at the edge of a small cabin town. Some houses we're newer than others but that didn't seem to bother anyone. The houses were decently spaced and it was pretty active for being where most elders come to retire.

The man shrugged at the other's comment and adjusted the large hiking bag on his shoulders. "You shouldn't. Most don't make it back." The other male rolled his eyes and looked back to the elder. "I'm well aware of what lurks out there." He turned away from the other and set out on the path.

The path almost instantly secluded anyone who walked it from the chaotic world around it. He examined the terrain and all it had to offer, collecting some things along the way. His side bag was full of odd rocks and a book that had some pressed foliage, now had ones he hadn't collected before.

The walk was peaceful. Birds chirping as the wind rustled the leaves. The path was mostly covered but the leaves caused rays of light to shine through, giving him inspiration. He eventually found a spot to rest and decided to paint the path he was walking. Once his bag was set down, he pulled out a roll of canvas and laid it as flat as he could.

There were some paints and brushes in a holder in the middle of the roll and he smiled softly as he picked them up. He opened the bag and pulled out what he thought he needed as well as a small jar that held water to clean the brushes.

Close to 30 minutes had passed when he got a slight chill down his spine. He paused his painting and looked around. His eyes only saw the woods so he somewhat hesitantly went back to painting. After another 40-ish minutes passed, he finished his first of few paintings.

Luckily, the breeze dried his paints quicker than he had anticipated. He very carefully added a few layers of a sealant he had and let it dry. The same chill from earlier came around again but it was a bit more intense. He looked around as he finished cleaning and putting things away, noticing something in the distance.

Whatever he was looking at disappeared and he sighed as the now dry canvas was gently rolled and placed back onto the bag. He stood up, stretched, and continued his mostly peaceful walk, forgetting what he had seen earlier.

Some hours had passed, his periodic breaks allowing him to gain inspiration for future paintings. It was just after noon when he decided to make his own path. He pulled out a book and wrote directions so he could find his way back. In the process of creating his own path, he stumbled upon one of the most stunning places he'd ever seen.

It was a small, oasis-like area that had a magical feel to it. He stopped what he was doing and found the perfect spot to paint the scene in front of him.

While he painted, some birds had visited him and even a small snake had managed to befriend him and his paints. The snake had coiled gently around his wrist while he worked which made him smile.

The man had sat and painted the space for another 2 hours, finishing at around 2 o'clock. His (e/c) eyes looked up to the sky and he sighed, sealing his now finished work before packing everything away.

The snake was still on his wrist, not even bothering to leave so he just dealt with it. He continued on his own path for another hour. It was still fairly bright when he found himself at the entrance of a cave.

The small snake uncoiled itself and slid into a pocket on his cloak. The cave went deeper but he was cool with not going into it since he was going to leave soon anyway.

He stayed at the entrance and found a nice area to sit and relax, maybe get another painting done of what the cave looked like. It was gorgeous after all, nature framed the entrance perfectly, leaving some vines to hang down, moss covers rocks and small fungi scattered every so often.

He decided on just relaxing as he set his stuff down and leaned against a wall.

Soon enough, he had dozed off into his dreamland.

------

I ssswear I'll kill that woman...

Ssshe won't leave me alone...

The large, gorgeous albino Naga slithered through the leaves, carefully making his way to his home. He had noticed some newer prints, clearly from something with two legs, but he didn't pay too much mind to them.

He reached the cave and sighed as he entered. Bright blue eyes scanned the area and his heart sank to his stomach when he saw a (tall/short/avg) man with (h/l) (h/c) hair leaning against the wall.

Pleassse dear godsss tell me he iss alive...

He quickly made his way to the motionless body, not noticing said body's items not too far away.

If ssshe killed another human to try to pleasse me... I ssswear...

As he was lost in thought, the other stirred thanks to his intense staring and slightly heavy breathing. The human yawned and stretched his back slightly as he looked up to the Naga with a slightly annoyed expression.

"Is there something you need?"

The Naga jumped slightly and stared down at him with shock but also joy, happy he wasn't dead.

"I apologize... I wasss afraid you had passsed..."

The Naga paused for a moment while the other rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

"Wait... You aren't... Afraid of me?"

The (h/c) shook his head and looked up to him again. "If you don't mind, I would like to take my leave." He said placing his hands on the ground in preparation to stand. The Naga stood speechless, staring at the smaller human sitting in front of him.

"Can you move please?"

With a nod and small apology, the Naga moved away from the male who carefully stood and stretched his limbs.

The white and yellow snake watched as the other took out a small pocket watch, that the small snake from earlier was now holding on to, and checked the time. "When the hell did I get so late..." The man mumbled to himself. The time read 8:11 and judging by the lack of light it was night time. He slipped the watch and snake back onto his pocket.

"Well, I better get going." He said grabbing his bag and putting over his shoulder. The Naga still stood, watching as the male walked to the mouth of the cave.

"W-wait!"

He looked back to see that the other had slithered closer and held a worried look on his face. "P-please don't leave! Y-you can't!"

"Oh yeah, and whys that?"

"I would rather not find sssuch a beautiful man ssslaughtered on my cave-step in the morning..."

Said beautiful man turned to look at him, slightly shocked at the statement.

"Pleassse just ssstay with me till the morning and I'll essscort you back to the village..." He looked frantic and genuinely seemed like he cared.

With a sigh, the other looked to the pleading blue eyes and said, "I don't bunk with strangers. I'll be fine." He turned and walked out of the cave, leaving the Naga shocked and frozen.

"Wait! I'm ssserious! Pleassse!" He followed after the human and froze once again when he saw him pinned by the she-devil herself. His bag had been tossed to the side, most of the contents falling out. She had him wrapped in her tail and smiled as he struggled to get free.

His shy demeanor had dissipated rather quickly. The small snake had gotten out of the other's pocket and hid in the nearly empty bag.

He suddenly lunged towards the woman he hated so much. She clearly hadn't noticed him before then and threw the human off to the side, his body slamming into a tree. The two of them fought as the one tossed aside slowly passed out, struggling to stay awake.

------

Soft hands gently rubbed his back as he awoke again. His (e/c) eyes looked around the best the could but they didn't see much other than a wall. His whole body was sore but those hands were working wonders. The room was warm and whatever he was laying on was extremely comfortable. He closed his eyes and let out a pleased groan.

The hands froze and pulled away quickly, making him turn his head the other way. A set of bright blue eyes were staring with surprise that the male was awake. "H-hello there..." The human smirked and slowly blinked, "Hey sexy, why'd ya stop?"

The blonde blushed and looked away. "I dessspissse that remedy ssso much..." He mumbled as his hands carefully went back to massaging. "Mmm... I'm soooo tired... Will you cuddle with me?"

"No... Just go back to sssleep human..."

"Mm... Oh-kay."

------

A soft warm light lit the room, if you could really call it a room. A rather noisy yawn resonated from a still fairly sore male. He carefully stretched and sat up, almost instantly laying back down.

"Fuuck me..."

His hand fell from what he now knows as a large hammock. Soft locks brushed against his fingers and without thinking he gently combed them, enjoying the soft and cool feeling on his slightly rough hands. The owner of said locks leaned into the hand, clearly not realizing whose hand it was.

The two enjoyed each other for a moment before the blonde realized the situation. He pulled away and sat up, looking at the still sleepy human in his bed. "Are you feeling better? Do you need anything?" He asked leaning in slightly.

"Something to drink, and maybe a name?" The Naga nodded and got a cup of water first. He sat up in the hammock carefully and crossed his legs slightly. Looking around, the room was neat yet cluttered with various items. He spot his stuff and cautiously, yet somewhat reluctantly, left the hammock to inspect them.

He sat on the large plush rug and rummaged through his own things, glad to see that everything he had was still there. Other than his canvas. He panicked slightly and looked around, immediately regretting the sudden movement.

Laying back, he closed his eyes and sighed. Mr. Naga came back and looked at the other on the ground. He hovered over him slightly till he opened his eyes. "Here, it'sss fresh ssspring water."

"Thank you." He said carefully sitting up and drinking what he was given.

"My name is Sssyerca." The other nodded. "(Y/n). Do you happen to know where my canvas is at Sssyerca?" He asked mimicking the way the other said it. Syerca blushed and nodded, moving over to a small table to grab it. (Y/n) stood up carefully from the floor and followed him to said table.

There was a large couch, clearly made for the naga, that (Y/n) sat on. Syerca sat next to him, and (Y/n) leaned on him, closing his eyes as he took in the snakes, surprising, warmth. Said snake blushed and looked down to the (h/c). He gently took the cup from (Y/n)'s hand and set it on the table.

"I hope you don't mind that I may have looked at your paintingsss..." (Y/n) shrugged and looked up to Syerca, one eye pressed against his side. "Are they ok? Physically?"

"Ah, yesss! They're fine. And quite beautiful if I might sssay..." Syerca said with a soft tone. (Y/n) smiled and looked down to the rolled canvas. He stood up and Syerca watched as he stood on the opposite side of the table. "Lie on the couch and get comfortable. Let me grab something real quick." He said walking over to his bag and rummaging around for a moment.

Syerca hesitantly did as the painter asked and made himself comfortable on the couch. (Y/n) found all of the supplies he needed and set them on the floor next to the table before sitting on his knees. "May I make a request?" He asked looking up to Syerca. The Naga nodded as he watched (Y/n) unroll the canvas. "Look cute and don't move till I say you can." Syerca blushed and adjusted slightly so that he was looking at the other.

(Y/n) started to put blobs of color onto the canvas. Syerca watched as the soft yellows and whites turned into his tail, then tans to his chest, and so on till it had gotten to his head, his face still not painted.

It had been close to 2 hours by that point but neither had seemed to notice the time go by due to being entranced by the painting. "Syerca. Could you look at me? Don't look at the painting." (Y/n) said, starting at the other's eyes. He blushed softly and looked into (Y/n)'s (e/c) eyes.

Syerca took this opportunity to examine the human closely. His (e/c) eyes we're soft yet focused, while his (h/style) (h/c) hair moved slightly with his gentle head movements. He blushed and bit his lip slightly as he looked at his lips. They were a soft pink color and we're parted slightly as he worked, the occasional blep happening due to his focus.

Many minutes had passed before (Y/n) looked up and said. "Alright. You can move again." Syerca snapped out of his trance and looked down to the canvas. (Y/n) cleaned up as Syerca turned the canvas to look at properly. His eyes shined as he looked at it closer. "The amount of detail iss amazing..." (Y/n) looked up and smiled. "You can have it if you want it. I'll put it on a frame and sign it if you do." He said with a small laugh.

Syerca looked up as his eyes widened slightly. "Really? That would be lovely..." (Y/n) nodded and said, "I'll have to head back to my home though. If you'd be willing to come with me I could do it today." He went to get his pocket watch to check the time when he heard Syerca get off the couch. (Y/n) though nothing of it but tensed when he was hugged from behind.

He turned his head slightly to look at Syerca who buried his face into the crook of (Y/n)'s neck. "Uh... What are you doing that for?" The other stayed silent for a moment before responding. "I know thisss is extremely sssudden... But... Would you be willing to become my mate?"

"... What would be in it for me?" (Y/n) asked looking to Syerca who pulled away. "Protection from any other Naga, free-range of my territory... It will finally let me rid thisss world of that vile woman that attacked you..." He said mumbling the last part. His eyes looked to (Y/n)'s (e/c) eyes and the other said,

"So you wanna be my boyfriend?"

Syerca was quiet before he broke out in laughter, his eyes closing as he did. "Yesss... I-if that'sss what humansss call... Call matesss." (Y/n) looked up and shrugged. "Ok. I'm single anyway." Syerca smiled and hugged him, gently pressing their foreheads together. "Would it be ok for me to mark you?" He asked quietly, looking into (Y/n)'s eyes.

"I-I don't know what that entails but um... Sure..." (Y/n) gently wrapped his arms around Syerca's bare torso. He gently rubbed the others back. It was smooth but the occasional line like bump came up, telling there was a scar there. Syerca leaned down to (Y/n)'s neck and placed soft kisses under his jaw. (Y/n) gasped and shivered, slightly tightening his grip on the male, not expecting what he did.

Syerca continued to kiss before mumbling, "Sssorry... But thisss might hurt..." (Y/n) was about to speak up but Syerca bit down on his neck, his canines sinking in. (Y/n) gasped and let out a small moan of pain as he hugged him. Syerca pulled away slightly and licked the spot where he bit. It left a tingling sensation behind and (Y/n) felt a bit weak after.

"Are you ok..? The mark will tell that your claimed... My ssscent will remain and only be picked up by other naga..." He gently brushed (Y/n)'s hair back. "I wish you told me that's what you were going to do..." Syerca looked away and sighed, "I didn't think you would allow me if I told you."

(Y/n) looked up to him and moved his hands from the others back to his cheeks. He gently rubbed them with his thumbs. Syerca smiled and (Y/n) smiled too. His thumbs gently rubbed over Syerca's lips, they were thin but still nice. Syerca smiled more and stuck his tongue out, showing it's slit. "I don't know what's in that... Saliva of yours but it made me feel pretty good."

Syerca moved (Y/n)'s hands from his face and interlocked their fingers. "Also what's with you and making me feel good?" He asked, resting his face on Syercas chest. "I apologize... But... Thank you for letting me... M-mark you." (Y/n) pulled away and looked up to the others eyes. "Let's get to know each other before we call it official though." Syerca nodded and rested his forehead against (Y/n)'s.

"I'll take you back to your village a little later. For now, let'sss get to know each other... Like you sssuggested..."

----

3066

Definitely not my fav but hey

[trashyswitch]

Exchanging Favors

Roman is welled up with artists block, while Logan is filled with touch-starvation. So, they look to the other for help.

I AM! BACK, BABY! I'm finally getting the excitement out of writing again! WOO! Let's goooo! Hope you all enjoy my story!

Roman was sitting in his room, holding a pencil in his right hand and holding down a paper with his left hand. He was trying to come up with something to draw, write, or generally come up with. But…He just…couldn’t. Nothing was inspiring him to write or draw. He kept placing the pencil onto the paper…and removing it. The lead would touch the paper…and would be removed. He just didn’t know how to spontaneously come up with something creative. It was like telling a double amputee to walk on prosthetic legs. It just can’t be done without some time and practice.

Roman soon threw his pencil across the room, crumpled up the paper and threw it as hard as he could against the wall. But paper being paper, it only lightly bounced off the wall and floated to the ground. This wasn’t satisfying enough. He needed more! MORE!

Roman picked up his desk, carried it out of his room and threw the desk as hard as he could out the door. Roman stared at the desk as it crashed into pieces out on the lawn. He huffed and puffed as the pieces of his desk crumpled into a scattered pile of wood on the front lawn. He stared at the wooden desk for a little longer, before turning around to head back to his room.

“Strange seeing you here.” A face in front of Roman had said.

Roman jumped a good 5 feet into the air and held his chest as he huffed even more, staring at the person in front of him with fear. “You scared me!”

The person who happened to have glasses, removed them and cleaned the lens with his shirt. “I apologize for giving you a fright, Roman.” The person told him.

Roman was finally able to register who this was. The glasses, tie and collared t-shirt gave it away.

“It’s…okay, Logan.” Roman replied.

Logan titled his head as he saw a big pile of brown on the lawn. “Mind if I ask why there is a broken desk out on the front lawn?” Logan asked.

Roman’s anger began to subside from both the previous satisfaction of throwing the desk, and now Logan’s soft voice.

“Well…that was my fault.” Roman explained.

“Ah…I see. Might I ask what you did?” Logan asked.

Roman sighed as he looked down and started playing with his own 10 fingers. “I threw the- I got angry at the desk because I couldn’t draw or write anything good.” Roman explained.

Logan nodded. “I see. While I would like to say that experiencing a creativity block is not your fault…I would also like to say that your creative block is not the desk’s fault either.” Logan explained.

Roman held his arm as he nodded. “I know…But I felt a strong urge to throw something! I was angry!” Roman explained.

“But does throwing and breaking something solve your creative block?” Logan asked.

Roman huffed and crossed his arms as he looked down with an angry look. “...No.” He spat out.

“Hm…I am sensing your anger now.” Logan mentioned. “Perhaps I could help you get over your anger- handle it, if you will.” Logan offered.

Roman looked up at Logan with a softened expression. “Would you?” Roman asked.

Logan smiled proudly and snapped his fingers. Suddenly, the room changed into a full concrete room, with sledgehammers, weapons and broken items sprawled about. Furthermore, Roman and Logan were in white suits with safety glasses on their eyes and red headphones on their heads.

Roman smiled as he immediately recognized what this was and specifically, what this room was inspired by:

“I suppose you’ve seen the internet series Unus Annus?” Logan asked. “Um- YES!” Roman replied, before repeating the ‘Unus Annus’ theme chant at the beginning of every video.

Logan couldn’t help but smile as Roman did the chant. “I am giving you a room to break all the items you want to. Most weapons are at your disposal. The only items that we discarded from this room were guns.” Logan explained.

Roman looked completely hyped up and ready to break all the things. “Can I break things now? Now?! NOW?!” Roman asked.

Logan let out a chuckle. “Yes, you may break away.” Logan replied.

“YESS!” Roman cheered as he grabbed the metal baseball bat first. “HULK SMASH!” Roman shouted as he swung at a nearby computer monitor. The computer monitor’s glass front broke, and the rest of the tv screen went flying into the concrete wall.

Roman started completely destroying as much of the items as he could. The printer was in ruin, the glass table was shattered into bits, the plates were yeeted against the wall, and the baseball bat was split in half. There was even a golf club with a big hole in one side. It was pretty funny.

Roman soon rested his body on a yoga mat and huffed loudly. He was exhausted.

“Feeling better now?” Logan asked.

Roman was still huffing and puffing, so he gave him a nod in response.

Logan smiled a little. “Alright. Would you like to go back?” Logan asked.

Roman nodded again. “Sure.” Roman replied.

And with a snap of the hand, they were back home in Roman’s room. Roman immediately laid himself onto his own bed and smiled. He felt so much better after destroying things in that concrete room. But there was still something that Roman wanted to do:

“Hey Logan,” Roman called.

Logan looked at Roman. “Yes?”

Roman sat up. “I want to do something to thank you for helping me.” Roman explained.

Logan blinked in surprise. “But…you don’t have to, if you don’t want to.” Logan told him.

Roman got up onto his feet. “I want to!” Roman declared, showing excitement.

Logan smiled a little and started to blush a little. “Well…” Logan thought for a moment. “There is something I wouldn’t mind us doing.” Logan admitted.

Roman turned his head so his right ear would get most of the sound.

Logan cleared his throat awkwardly. “There…is a type of play…that I haven’t really experienced before.” Logan admitted.

Roman gasped and held his own cheeks with his hands. “Really?! Tell me, tell me, tell me!” Roman begged.

Logan sighed. “I think it’s better if I show you.” Logan replied.

Roman smiled and waited for him to show him.

Logan walked up to Roman with his hands rubbing together nervously. He knelt down beside Roman and started gently squeezing Roman’s side. Roman’s reaction was immediate: He started giggling and falling to the side to stop the hand from tickling.

“HEhehehey! Hehehehehehe! Ihihihit tihihihicklehes!” Roman giggled, rolling onto his back as he struggled to get away from the evil hand.

Logan bit his lip with a smile. “That’s what I was trying to convey…” Logan admitted before letting go of Roman.

Roman went limp for only a little bit, and looked at Logan. “So…Yohou wanna be tickled?” Roman asked.

Logan blushed a little harder at the question. He looked down with a small, embarrassed smile on his face. “Yeah…” Logan replied.

Roman giggled as he got up onto his knees, and scooted himself closer to Logan. “Why, I’d love to be your tickle monster!” Roman declared.

Beyond all odds, Logan’s cheeks grew even more red than before. But amidst the blushing, Logan opened his arms and allowed him to strike.

Taking some inspiration from Logan himself, Roman started by squeezing both of Logan’s sides. Logan immediately widened his eyes and grew a wobbly, cute little smile onto his face. “Ohoho bohohoy- Hahahahahaha! Ihit’s soooo weihihird!” Logan told him as he laughed.

Roman giggled at this. “I know, right?! It’s the weirdest feeling!” Roman replied. “It makes you all giddy and happy too!” Roman added.

Logan reached down and grabbed Roman’s wrists as he doubled over with laughter. “HAHAhahahaha! AAAHAhahaha!” Logan lifted his body up, let go of Roman’s wrists and placed his inner fists onto his own chin. “EEEEEHEHEHE!” Logan laughed and giggled, shaking his head wildly.

“Wow! All this from some squeezes on the side? How cute!” Roman teased.

Logan’s blush, by some weird miracle, started darkening into a more scarlet purple color. “IHIHI’M NOHOHOT CUHUHUTE!” Logan yelled back.

“Awww, denying it too? How predictable! And cute at the same time!” Roman teased further.

Logan dropped his hands down and leaned back into Roman’s chest. “IHIHI CAHAHAHAN’T!” Logan laughed. “Can’t what, Logan? What can’t you do?” Roman asked. “HAHANDLE IHIHIT!” Logan replied. “Oooooh, you can’t HAND-le it?” Roman asked as he showed Logan one of his hands. “Get it? Because I’m tickling you with my HANDS?” Roman added. Logan verbally groaned at the terrible pun, and whined as well. “Thahahat wahahas awwwfuhuhul.” Logan complained.

“Sorry to hear it didn’t TICKLE your fancy.” Roman teased. Logan fell to one side and covered his face with his own hands. “Stahahahap!” Logan ordered through his hands. “Naaah…How about I tickle this tummy wummy of yours? How does that sound?” Roman asked, wiggling his fingers at him.

Logan uncovered his eyes for just a second…then squeaked and covered them up again. How DARE Roman be so good at this! AAAH!

Roman brought his hands up to Logan’s belly and started squeezing and skittering his fingers all over it. Logan wheezed and rocked his body left and right as he giggled happily.

“Wow! Is someone enjoying this?” Roman asked.

Logan uncovered one of his eyes with his fingers and looked down slightly before nodding.

Roman paused, clapped his hands and cheered. “Yay! I’m so happy you’re enjoying this!” Roman declared.

Logan just giggled more and shook his head. “Cohohome ohohon, Rohoman…Cahahan’t you just tickle me without saying anything?” Logan asked.

Roman blinked in surprise. “Really? Okay. I can do that.” Roman replied.

Roman started tickling his belly and belly button with both of his fingers while keeping his mouth shut. The only thing he was showing Logan was a cute little smile.

Logan giggled and laughed through the whole thing. The only thing filling the room was Logan’s laughter and Roman’s slight finger brushes as he tickled. Logan’s cheeks and ears were visibly red through the whole thing, and his eyes were closed with a toothy smile showing on his face as he laughed through his teeth.

Roman eventually piped up. “Do you need a break?” Roman asked.

Logan shook his head. “Nohohoho, Ihihi’m fihihihine.” Logan replied. Roman’s smile grew brighter as he kept on going. “Well, I’m getting a little bit bored of the belly, so I think I’m gonna move somewhere else.” Roman decided.

Logan nodded and let him.

Roman moved to Logan’s hips and started gently squeezing them. Logan bursted out laughing almost immediately, and threw his head back as another fit of laughter left his mouth. He was wiggling and flopping around too. It was pretty funny to look at.

“IHIHIHIT’S SOHOHOHO BAHAHAD! WHYHYHY THEHEHERE?!” Logan asked.

“Because it’s a really good ticklish spot! One of my favorite tickle spots, to be completely honest.” Roman added.

Logan just kept on laughing wholeheartedly from Roman’s skilled fingers. Roman spent a little while longer tickling Logan with not much else to say to him. Eventually, Roman stopped tickling Logan and gave him some water and a cold wash cloth to cool Logan down. Logan took them thankfully and gave Roman a big, sweaty hug.

A little anger management for a little physical affection. Favors can go a long way.

[beigehearts]

Multiple requests are fine! Requests are unlimited. 

This is a cool idea so hell yeah

Yandere Adult Trio finding you after a few years after escape CW: physical abuse, mentions of kidnapping, blood, needles

Hisoka

This is rather nice actually. A quiet life in the middle of nowhere where no one questions you. It’s somewhat of a farming community you live in. You work at a farmers market, selling fresh fruits and vegetables to the same people every day. Everyone here recognizes you under your fake identity, and treats you as part of the community. As if you didn’t randomly appear one day. As if you aren’t in hiding. 

It’s been about three years you would say. Three years since you escaped... him. You dyed your hair, wore colored contacts and completely changed your clothing look. You moved countries, learned a new language, and completely dropped your entire identity and life. It was the only way you could escape him. How you escaped him remains a mystery to you too. He was always attentive but- you escaped that last time. Slipped through his fingers. 

Mr. Grady, the oldest farmer in town hobbles over to your stand and smiles with his big loose mouth. He only has a few teeth but you don’t need many when you blend all of your food anyway.

“Oh hello Charlie. How are you today?” He asks with his frail old man voice.

You smile back and begin bagging up the usual for him. “Very good Mr. Grady. How are you?” 

Your conversations are never short but it’s almost become a highlight of your day to hear the old man ramble. “Oh you know. The sheep dog are sick, so I tried rounding those cows up with my cat. He practically got trampled!” He throws his arms up as if it’s unbelievable. You somewhat listen as he continues. “... moral of the story is, cats are unreliable and only have two lives.” 

As you hand the paper bag over the counter the old man stops to think for a moment. “I saw someone new up by the shops today, he was a real character. Quite tall too.” 

You nod and get the change for the money he hands you, “Oh really? Did you talk to him?”

“He wasn’t much interested in me. Though he didn’t seem like a normal traveler. He was much too eccentric for that.” He offers one last toothless smile, “Don’t work too late. It’s time for the foxbears to come out of hibernation soon.” 

Before you can further question him, he hobbles off pretty quickly for an old man. Of course you’re overreacting but someone eccentric and tall randomly coming to town? No it couldn’t be. It’s been over three years since then. And he wouldn’t go this far for you would he? 

After closing up the shop you grab the keys to your car and head for the ‘parking lot’. It’s a field with white lines spray painted on the grass with a single light to illuminate the whole place. You hop into your car and are just glad to finally go home after a long day. It was rather slow but that’s because it was a tuesday. It is very busy on friday-monday. You start your car, and turn on the air, you plug your phone in and relax some into your seat.

You adjust your rear view mirror and scream when you do. You just barely catch the reflection of someone in the back of your car. He’s sitting in the back seat watching you closely. You decide against turning around to face him.

“Hello y/n. Or is it Charlie?” He asks calmly, as if it were a casual conversation.

You clear your throat and try to control your shaking. “What are you doing here Hisoka?” 

He ignores your question completely. “You really know how to choose a nice town. Quiet, friendly, off the grid.”

“I suppose.” Your hands grip on the steering wheel tightens. “How did you find me?”

“Oh, well, it was quite hard really. You did a good job. But once I found the first person who helped you change your identity, it was just a matter of going down the chain.”

You’d rather not think about what happened to those people. “And what are you doing here?” You repeat your question.

“Well there’s only one thing I’m here for of course.” He leans back in the seat, just barely having enough room for his legs. “I’ve come to bring you home.” 

“I don’t want to. It’s nice here.” You state as if you have an option. 

He leans forward this time, and cranes his head around the drivers seat to whisper in your ear, “It’s really not up to you pet.”

Before you can even react, there’s a rope around your neck, and he’s pulling you hard against your seat. You claw at the rope and gasp for air. You try to turn some but the rope burn hurts too much. You manage to get your fingers under the rope around your neck, and throw yourself forward.

His head smacks the back of your seat but your head smacks the wheel, honking the horn. There’s no doubt that you’re bleeding. You throw the rope over your head and jump out of the car, and run. But he’s much faster.

He jumps out of the car and before you know it, he grabs the back of your shirt, pulling you to him. He holds you against himself with his arms, leaving no room for escape. But you have one more trick up your sleeve. You throw your head back as hard you can and headbutt his face. There’s a loud crack that you can only assume is his nose. 

He groans and his nails dig into your skin through your clothes. “You really got feisty while I was away.” His nails begin to pierce your skin, ripping through the cloth of your shirt. “But it’s no matter, it only turns me on more.”

Illumi

To say you’re on the run is an understatement. You’re practically sprinting away even all these years later. You know that if you stop for even a few days that he would find you. You spend no more than three days at a time in the same place. You’ve travelled half of the world by now- and quite honestly it has been somewhat nice. Not just the freedom from the suffocating grasp of your captor Illumi, but being able to see the world. You would never have done this if not for the situation you were in. Maybe things happen for a reason.

It feels like forever since you’ve been travelling. But the reality is that it’s only been two years. Two long years of not stopping. You have a new name and often go days without eating. It’s not easy getting money when you aren’t in the same area for long. 

It was late night when you escaped from him. He never let his guard down so you just had to go for it. He wasn’t expecting you to make a mad dash out of the manor, and hide out in the woods for a few days. Slowly but surely you managed to get out of the mountain prison, leaving through the small door next to the office. The man working at the entrance was sipping tea and reading the newspaper when you left much too busy to pay attention to you. You’re more than sure he was punished for missing you leaving. But sometimes you wonder if he chose to ignore you on purpose, and let you escape. 

It’s a beautiful morning. You slept on a few blankets and a sweatshirt as a pillow on the ground of a cave. It was hard to get any sleep at first but you managed to get used to the back pain. The sun is shining through the canopy, streams of light illuminating the cave. The grass outside of the cave is wet with dew droplets. It’s only slightly humid but the breeze with the warm weather is heavenly. It’s not every day you get good weather like this. 

You sit up and stretch your arms in the air, yawning tiredly. Your usual morning routine was to get a fire started, and put the tiny kettle above it. In your small backpack you have a few essential items. Coffee being one of them. You get out your tin can after jimmying a fire and filling the kettle with water from a nearby stream. You drop some instant coffee grounds in the kettle and bask in the aroma of coffee. 

You pour yourself a cup and put some powdered milk packets and splenda in the cup, stirring it with a stick that looked relatively... clean. But you had a feeling that today was the day. You weren’t sure why this morning you knew he would find you. But you did. Almost on cue, you hear footsteps approach behind you.

You bring the tin cup to your lips, taking a long sip of the hot coffee. 

“So this is where you’ve been.” You don’t even flinch at his words. You knew this was inevitable. 

The coffee burns your tongue. “Yes, I must have stayed here for a day too long. Don’t you agree Illumi?”

“Yes. It was quite stupid.” There’s a silence between the two of you. You continue sitting on the ground with your back facing him. “Are you ready to leave?” He asks as if he’s picking you up from and elementary sleep over. 

“May I finish my coffee first?” 

“I suppose.” Though he doesn’t move from his spot, his gaze staying firm on your back.

Luckily you haven’t spent all this time just running, but training. In self defense to be specific.

Quickly you jump up and turn around, you move your arm to throw the coffee on him in hopes of burning him. He grabs your wrist, but the coffee does land on his forearm. You bring your leg up to kick him in the side but he grabs it right as you make contact. The only hit you actually manage to land is when you throw a punch with your free hand at his throat. If it were anyone else they would be stunned for at least a few seconds. But this wasn’t anyone. He shows no sign of flinching. 

“Are you ready now?” He asks.

You allow your body to relax and he lets go of your limbs. “Go ahead, put a needle in me.”

He doesn’t argue with your point, pressing a needle to your chest and the last thing you hear is “Don’t fight it.”

Chrollo

The very thought that all of these people by his side had no qualms about you being kidnapped makes you sick. All of them had many chances to set you free and yet they stayed loyal to your captor, as if this were normal and okay. So many people witnessing this unhealthy obsession and not even muttering a word about it. Honestly you find it more ridiculous than you do sad. How did he have all these people under his thumb? Was he really just that powerful? 

Wherever he went, you went. One day he had what they called, ‘a mission.” You had caught a cargo train out west and jumped on, as stowaways. It’s not as if anyone checked each boxcar. All of you had fallen asleep in the small space of the boxcar. The train was at full speed, with no sign of stopping anytime soon. Cargo trains were much faster than you anticipated. Once you were sure everyone was asleep, you stood up casually as if you were just stretching. In case someone woke up. Which they did. Nobunaga peeled his eyes open and examined you. But he was too slow, you leaped out of the car before anyone could grab you. You went tumbling through a field after hitting your head very hard against the ground. It wasn’t the perfect escape but it was an escape.

After that you found a nearby farm, and while it was still night you stole a horse from a barn. You rode for many miles, until days later you found a very busy city. Somehow you managed to make a life for yourself, becoming a low grade secretary. 

Today was a slow day, your employer did not have many clients today. You checked in on your boss to see if she needed anything but she waved you away. You decided to play solitaire on the computer, a perfectly valid way to waste time. 

The phone rings and you pick it up while still keeping one hand on the mouse to play solitaire. 

“Hello this is the Seedling Lawyer’s Office. How may I help you?” You stick the phone between your ear and shoulder, playing solitaire. 

There’s a chuckle from the other side of the phone. “So it is you.”

Your blood runs cold, and the only thing that your head is telling you is ‘run’. “I’m not sure who this is, could you please state your name and purpose for calling?” Playing dumb seems like the only decision right now. 

“My darling, there’s no need for the semantics. I’m coming to pick you up right now.” Perfectly on cue, the sliding doors of the building open and you drop the phone, standing up abruptly. 

His eyes show affection and kindness, but there’s a glimmer of... rage. You look around but no one is in the waiting room and you know the cameras are fake for security. This is a cheap layer’s business after all. 

“There’s no need for the semantics Chrollo.” You try to say mockingly but it comes out more as fearful and unsure.

His smile drops and he begins walking towards your desk. “Do you understand the consequences of your actions y/n?” He scoffs kicks the heavy desk to the side as if it weighed nothing. “I missed you of course.” 

“Ah well, maybe I needed a break.” It comes out as a question. 

He corners you against the wall and places a rough hand on your cheek. “Oh darling, oh my sweet darling.” His smile reappears, as sweet as it always has been. “I’m going to kill your entire family.” His hand grips the side of your face roughly and he tilts your head back. 

“You really are something. I would never hurt you, you know.” He places a gentle kiss against your cheek despite his tight grip on the side of your head. “But that doesn’t mean there aren’t consequences for what you’ve done.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat and grab his wrist. “Well you’re hurting me right now.” 

Immediately he drops his hand and sighs. “I would never hurt you intentionally, or if not necessary.” He grabs your throat, holding it so tightly you wonder if you’ll ever be able to talk again. He’s crushing your air ways and vocal cords. You claw at his wrist but its useless. “Disciplining you does not count as hurting you.” He leans forward, and if you could yelp you would.

He bites your cheek, definitely leaving a mark. After drawing blood, he licks it up. Your vision is going dark but you’re simply not strong enough to fight back. “Do you understand darling?”

[detroitbecomeyandere]

Yandere hunter Nine,Hank, and maaabey that fbi agent who I forget his name ( that sniper dude )

With a get reader who try to get away from them from their obsession

Hunter Hank x werewolf reader

Hank is one of the oldest hunters in his guild and with age comes experience

And with that experience comes the higher priority cases, such as a werewolf causing havoc in small villages in the country side

Entire herds of live stock killed in one night

So the townsfolk chipped in what little coin they had to hire a hunter and here he was

Hiding under the cover of trees he waits

It's nearly six am by the time you arrive and you are hungry

Wasting no time you start to tear the throats out of every sheep in the field

In your blood lust you completely miss the scent of the hunter as he lines the sites of his rifle up to your chest and fires

You react to the sound of the hammer and turn at the last moment causing the silver bullet to go through your calf

Howling in pain the wolf hybrid bolts into the woods and Hank is on your trail

The sun starts to peak over the horizon and Hank knows he'll lose you if you make it back to the village before then so he picks up his pace

He lines up his rifle again and fires again, another howl rips from you as you are sent crashing to the ground

By the time Hank stands over you the transformation has already begun, your bones crack and snap painfully as the hair covering your body falls off in patches and your sharp teeth and claws dull and receded

Hank takes advantage of your incapacitated state and reloads his gun, taking aim and waiting for your true form to be revealed

Once the transformation is complete Hank notices the silver chains burning your wrists and the tears in your eyes as you look over your shoulder at him

He expected you to use your innocent looks to catch him off guard, but instead you lower yourself down and beg for him to end you

Through sobs you explain about your curse and how you tried everything to stop yourself when the full moon came but nothing worked and you were too cowardly to take your own life

Without thought Hank throws his cloak over you and when you question his actions the butt of his gun meets the back of your head sending you to the ground

Hank would get no money out of this hunt, but he may have just gotten something better

Hunter Cyrus x vampire reader

Cyrus had been hunting you for years, he ran into you shortly after you had been turned and trying to control your hunger on alley rats

He tried to end you then but out of dumb luck you had managed to escape him

Since then it had been a game of cat and mouse, you did everything in your power to stay under the radar, fed on the drunks at night, never killing and never staying in one place for long

But he always managed to find you, track you down at the worst possible moments only to taunt you with silver and crosses

You couldn't be sure of it but you suspected the dark haired man did this for more of a personal reason than a professional

The hunger in his eyes when he looked at you rivaled that of any other vampire you had met

Eventually you had been able to evade the man for years, taking an apprenticeship under a much older and wiser vampire and you lived in comfort and happiness for the first time in your newly damned life

One evening your master sent you out to pick up some books he had reserved when the scent hit you like a ton of bricks

The hunter was near, quickly you pulled your hood up and made your way back home, your master would just have to understand

Fear sat in your stomach the whole way as the smell of your predator never left, at some points even growing stronger before it faded slightly

Vampires flying was just a myth but at the rate you were running you may have as well been doing so

When you finally come crashing into your master's home you expected some comfort to be had in his presence, he was nearly four times your age and perhaps one of the oldest vampires in existence

But instead of that comfort there was panic, the hunter's smell was the strongest here and your master was nowhere in site

Fighting the thoughts telling you to flee you search out your companion wanting for him to be alright

But once you reach your shared room all hope flees you as you are greeted to the bloody mess that was once your friend

Tears overflow your eyes as you feel a presence behind you and before you can even raise your hand a silver chain is wrapped around your throat

Your skin burns and bubbles where the metal meets your flesh and you are powerless to stop the man from pushing you into a wall

You feel him press his nose into your hair and inhale as he presses his lower half into your body

He has you now, and he is never letting go of his little mouse

Hunter Allen x fae reader

It was uncommon for a hunter to be commissioned to hunt a fae, but Allen wasn't complaining

The coin was good and by all means it should be easier than any other hunt he's done

Supposedly this fae had been a bit more mischievous than the average, placing fairy rings in front of doors, taking down entire stone fences only to stack them into a tower and even at one point all the hens in the village started quacking like ducks

While Allen found it entertaining he couldn't turn down the easy money

You were easy enough to lure out, he left some crystals, silver and gold chains and moonstones in a sea shell under the moonlight and once midnight hit you were there, fluttering about the new found shiny objects

You seemed completely unconcerned about how these mystery items came to be as you started to form the chains and stones into a mask shift crown

When you go to admire your new accessories in the nearby pond Allen ambushes you by throwing salt at your feet

While you are distracted by the salt he lassos your with an iron rope and pulls you to your knees

Immediately Allen is struck by your otherworldly beauty, your silky smooth hair that falls in all the right places, your pointed ears that twitch cutely whenever the rope shift on your body

He'd heard tales that the mischievous fae were all ugly green monsters with shark teeth and sickly yellow eyes that stared into your soul

In his distraction he misses the shock on your face change into determination, you ram your head into his stomach and take advantage of his breathlessness and throw yourself into the pond next to you

Still doubled over Allen watches as the dark waters turn bright and then dark again, your form disappearing in the process

After righting himself Allen makes a decision, townsfolk be damned, he was gonna have you all to himself

[miraeluc]

you don’t return from a mission

prompt: “diluc starts to worry when you’ve been gone on a simple mission for more than two days so he decides to look for you himself”

pairing: diluc x gender-neutral! reader

word count: 1,1k

warnings: mention of broken bone?? reader is hurt (not too bad), it’s just cute tbh

genre: angst, fluff

he was worried sick.

it was unlike you to stay overtime on missions - you did your work and left, avoiding unwanted commissions from strangers

after 1 day he wasn’t too worried, maybe you got carried away

after 2 days he was already starting to worry, maybe you went somewhere more far away and are camping there?

you were supposed to go to springvale though

that’s not that far.

after 3 days he was getting physically ill from all the overthinking - he thought every single possibility of what state you may be in right now

he hopes you’re just camping somewhere

he decided he couldn’t wait anymore and decided to go out and look for you himself 

the next morning he awoke at 5am

he couldn’t sleep any longer so he got a backpack with emergency items such as a first aid kit and went on his (not so) merry way

he walked through windrise

just to make sure you weren’t there

sadly you were nowhere to be found 

he sighed and kept walking - now on the way to springvale 

he didn’t want to admit if but he was so terrified of losing you 

you were the first person able to break down his walls in years

the thought of you potentially being in great danger made him automatically increase speed

he walked through the small village

“hey, brook. have you seen y/n around?”

“master diluc? y/n? they came by few hours ago to cook some food! looked pretty... disheveled. they said they were on their way to clear some hilichurl camps.”

diluc cursed under his breath

“did you see what direction they went?”

“took off in dawn winery’ direction-” 

“ok. thanks.” he cut her off

he immediately started walking again, now getting more worried after brook described your appearance as ,,disheveled,, 

when he arrived at dawn winery there was no one outside

that was weird

there’s usually always someone out there

where is everyone????

he obviously tried to go in 

the doors were locked

that’s double-weird 

double-weird until he very clearly heard you grunt in pain in the distance, atleast

what was dangerous enough to make dawn winery shut closed without asking him first?

he didn’t have enough time to ponder over it because he was already sprinting towards the source of sounds coming from you 

his eyes widened and he faltered for a second as soon as he saw you, on the ground in the middle of three cryo abyss mages

he was, for the first time, relieved to be noticed by enemies - the three now floating towards him

he felt his anger picking up when he glanced at you, lying on the ground motionless

so, ya know what he did?

he released intense flames - knocking his opponents shields off, letting his phoenix finish them off 

he sprinted towards you, dropping to his knees and pulling you to rest your head on his lap 

“y/n, hang on for me, alright? don’t close your eyes”

his voice was shaking 

“d-diluc- i can’t-” 

was the only thing you managed to cough out, entrusting him to keep you safe, unable to keep fighting to stay awake, enduring that pain

you woke up to the sound of wood crackling beside you, residing into the warmth it radiated

curse those cryo abyss mages 

you slowly peeled your eyes open, flinching at the sight of barbara and diluc hovering above you 

where were you?

is this.. dawn winery??

what’s barbara doing here,,

you don’t know and you don’t care because you feel yourself getting engulfed by diluc’s arms 

“god, you scared me so much..”

he won’t mention that he cried in front of barbara because he was so worried

that would feed your ego a little too much 

“i’m sorry.. are they gone? i just wanted to defeat them before returning home..”

“they’re long gone..”

he sighed and pulled away from the hug, glancing at barbara who was waiting for your little moment to end before she could speak 

“how did that even happen? you can take down three abyss mages easily!”

“I had cleared three hilichurl camps already and I was weakened - those took me by surprise as I was making my way back”

“you need to be careful next time - i healed you to the best of my abilities, but damage that only time can heal has been left behind. you have a broken rib and you were shivering the entire time while you were out! we warmed you up as best as we could and you should be fine now, but i wouldn’t be surprised if you do catch a cold the next few days..”

she then paused and looked at diluc

“you need to take care of y/n until they get bett-”

“you don’t even need to tell me. i won’t leave y/n out of my sight for now.”

she nodded and stood up

“very well. then, i’ll leave back to mondstadt, i still have work to do.”

without another word she left, which made diluc’s attention go back to you 

he reached his hand out to caress your cheek

“i nearly got sick myself when you didnt return home after 3 days”

you broke out in a little giggle, stopping when your rib started immensely hurting but you then spoke

“oh diluc.. you know i usually take longer because i get carried away.. nonetheless, i’m very thankful that you came to my aid, no one else would have..”

“it makes me want to fire all my employees - they were all ju-”

you cut him off, pulling him down towards you to kiss his lips 

“i’m glad they did, i got to see you fight~”

he scoffed, a smile spreading onto his lips

“seriously? that’s what you’re happy about?”

“well you looked very hot..” you trailed off

he attacked your face with tiny kisses after-

you best believe he didn’t let you out of sight the following weeks

he mostly made you stay in bed

always bringing you tea and left to fetch medicine for you in case of need

he even waited in front of the bathroom door when you needed to use the bathroom 

he even helped you shower 

you don’t express it verbally, but you’re really thankful to have him

no one except him supports and protects you as much as he does

he could literally kill someone for you

(spoiler: he already did.)

he’s your little meanie

did i mention that taking care of you also meant lots and lots of cuddles?

he always says it’s ‘so i can warm you up’

...

you know it’s because deep down he’s still very worried about your well-being

even after you’ve returned to good condition he hesitates to let you go on commissions 

he usually accompanies you, just to make sure

you don’t mind 

going on adventures alone can get boring - so having him by your side makes it all better :)

additional notes: hey there! there’s my second drabble. (truth is, i actually dislike this one lol). to be honest, i got so happy at the positive feedback towards my kaeya drabble, so i’m sorry it took me a while to write another one and it came out short too :( - i was having a little struggle with some writers block lol. nonetheless i hope you enjoyed this!!

[gaiuswrites]

Thread the Needle | Yoga!Din

Pairing: Modern!Din x Yoga Instructor!Reader

Rating: Explicit (minors, goodbye)

Word count: 3.5k~

Warnings/tags: Yoga!Din (yes, he gets his own warning), hurt/comfort, language, smut, good ol' fashioned cunnilingus, piv

Notes: ✨ HI FRIENDS ✨ Yoga!Din rides again. This idea has been stewing (pun intended, you'll get it later) in my dumb brain for a while now and I've finally decided to write it. Technically, this takes place a little farther into the future (perhaps when the pair is more of an item, and less of a fuckbuddy fling, but thorough plot? We don’t know her). Anyways, enjoy! Cheers x

He doesn’t mean to be dramatic, but it’s the most agonizing sixty minutes of his goddamn life.

He’s seated on his mat, legs folded into a fucking pretzel—lotus pose, a calm voice inside his head corrects—and he’s steaming.

She isn’t here.

He is—Din, for all his faults, showed the fuck up to class but she didn’t, and in her place there’s some smelly old bat, this woman’s wrinkly ass – sits bones – plunked down at the front of the studio— occupying her spot, where she should be.

His eyes stalk the movements of this other woman as she putters around the studio—the godawful stench of something earthy wafting behind her— and it looks wrong. It feels wrong; like a violation somehow—of the space.

Of their space.

“The light in me recognizes the light in you,” they all utter in unison like a fucking hippie cult, and he books it out of there, swiping his mat up with an aggressive slap and rolling it under his arm.

“Hey,” he calls out, pacing towards the front desk. The receptionist— Riley? Kylie? Din can never remember—glances up from her phone, bright eyed.

Poor thing.

“Who the fuck is that?” He jabs his thumb over his shoulder towards the studio, the gaggle of ladies trickling out of it already gossiping and clucking away. Din doesn’t mean to sound accusatory; he doesn’t mean to be this intense. It’s not this girl’s fault, he knows that— but she’s in proximity and she’s shit out of luck.

“M’sorry?” she sputters, blinking up at him.

Breathe, that same voice coos—he can feel the tickle of it behind his ear.

“Our usual Wednesday instructor,” Din begins again, clipped. “Where is she?”

“Oh," she shrugs, "she called in sick.”

With a furrowed brow he pitches forward, craning over the desk. “Is she okay?”

The girl— Miley? —all but flinches back from him, a quizzical expression wormed onto her. “Uhm, yeah she has the flu—nasty one, too, but she’ll probably be back by ne-"

Din doesn’t linger long enough for her to finish. He’s wheeled around, striding from the building, the tinny chime of the bell ringing out as the door creaks closed behind him. The women exchange waggling glances in his wake, tittering in mouthwatering delight—more juicy fodder for their post-yoga soiree.

///

He doesn’t remember driving there. He made a quick stop to the grocery store— their grocery store, now— to pick up what he needed and before he knows it, he’s at her front door, bringing his fist down upon it in hard raps.

He hears movement—can sense it there, can practically imagine it: her lithe body tip toeing over— no, she’s got the flu, maybe it’s more of a shuffle—and peeking through the peephole. There’s a weighty pause and then—

The slow, dubious clicks of unbolting locks, the turning of a handle, the yawn of the wood as it opens.

Her voice is made small with disbelief and exhaustion. “Din?”

“Can I come in?”

She cracks the door ajar, standing in the frame of it now, a thick blue comforter slung over an arm, and she can’t quite mask the stupefied look etched onto her face.

He’s never done this. She’s never done this. He’s been to her place twice—three times, if he counts them fucking in the car in her driveway—and he’s certainly never showed up unannounced.

“Uhm, I-”

“Great.”

Din pushes past her, plastic bag swinging heavy at his side.

“W-What?”

She’s left gaping, mouth and eyes opened incredulously, ogling the way he struts through her entryway, before finally having the wherewithal to close the door. “Hey, what are you-”

“You need to keep your fluids up,” he says roughly—as if it’s obvious—making a beeline towards the kitchen.

She follows after him, bunching the throw snuggly around her shoulders. “Din,” she utters feebly, “I really don’t think you should be here right now.”

He doesn’t respond.

“Please, I don’t wanna get you sick."

He thunks the bag onto the granite countertop, producing two cans.

She doesn’t know why she bothers, it’s not like he’s listening to her anyways. If she’s learned anything about Din Djarin, it’s that he’s nothing if not stubborn—impossibly immovable. He’s tossed his jacket off, slinging it over the island, a determined glint in his eye as he prowls around the kitchen, opening cupboards at random.

“Seriously, I don’t want you catching this. I feel like shit… Oh my god, I look like shit,” she groans in realization, burying her head in the blanket, hermitting herself away.

“You look fine,” he replies gruffly, delving through the drawers in search of a can opener.

Frumpy sweats and a baggy t-shirt with some faded logo on it that’s absolutely hanging off her. Hair tossed up and sloppy, coiled into a loose bun, errant pieces rebelling every which way. A little pale, maybe. Tired eyes. Messy.

Beautiful, he meant. She looks fucking irritatingly beautiful.

Din continues to rifle through her cabinets and he exhales in frustration, “Jesus, where do you keep your pans?”

“Bottom right,” she points begrudgingly.

He grunts, finding one big enough and sets it down on the stove.

She can’t stop fussing over him; making comments here and there, asking if he wants anything, needs anything—water, kombucha, tea, a beer, a snack—if she can help in any way possible—and it nearly sends him over the damn edge.

“Would you quit it and just let me take care of you?” he grits out, and her mouth clamps shut with a pop.

She’s quiet after that, picking anxiously at a thread poking out from the blanket she wears like a shawl—observing as he empties the cans into a large pot, lights the gas stove, and brings it to a boil. She gives him space, stationing herself by the kitchen table, leaning a hip into one of the four chairs there.

Honestly she does try to keep to herself; she tries to accept what Din is doing for her, but she can’t help it. As soon as she sees him ladling the soup into one of her favorite cups—it looks so tiny in his grasp— and bringing it over to her like a goddamn patron saint, she breaks.

“You really didn’t have to do all this.”

“Yeah well, you need to get healthy so you can take your class back from that fucking fossil.”

“Din,” she admonishes.

“Baby,” he gives her a pointed look and she gnaws at the inside of her cheek, a blush blotting her clavicle. “She fucking smells. Now sit your pretty little ass down-”

“But-”

He presses a hand to her shoulder, forcing her to sink into the chair with a soft oomf, and places the bowl in front of her. “Don’t fight me on this. Drink the fucking soup.”

She huffs, glancing down, and then back up to Din.

“Progresso?”

He grunts.

She blows at the steam rising from the hot liquid. “Chicken noodle?”

Din crosses his arms over his chest and plops back onto the island.

“Classic,” she praises, mumbling into it.

She loathes to admit it, but the first sip tastes like heaven. It soothes her raw vocal chords, worn hoarse from nights of coughing, and seeps deep to warm her cold bones.

Din remains mute through the whole affair, staring owlishly as she spoons it down, slurp for slurp, until he’s satisfied she’s finished. When she does, she arches an eye brow at him— mouth pressing into a thin line. Happy now?

He tips his head and pads over to her.

“Wait, no you don’t have to-" He swipes it from the table, the spoon clanking against the ceramic rim. Din moves to the sink and she groans.

“Just leave it,” she whines, but he ignores her—stubborn stubborn stubborn— he’s already got soap on the sponge and the water running. Again, she huffs and rises to her feet, hem of the blanket trailing behind her.

“Thank you,” she gives in a hushed tone.

It’s so strange— being taken care of in her own place. She doesn’t know what to do, where to go. It’s ill-fitting, foreign, and she can only hover there, buzzing like a pesky insect beside him.

He’s wiping the dish off with a towel when he chances a peek back at her, practically stuttering when he does.

She’s swaddled in that fucking quilt, awkward and impossibly sincere and precious just standing there—watching him play house in her home. A brush of color has sprung up on her cheeks—more light in her eyes, too—and Din, try as he might, can’t pry himself off her.

She’s sick—she’s sick and gorgeous and he wants her. He wants her to feel better, he wants to fuck her, he wants to hold her. He’s overcome with it.

He swallows.

Fuck.

He abandons the bowl and rag in the drying rack and turns to her, her eyes widening, glassy and bloodshot, as he tucks a stray hair behind her ear— knuckles trailing down her jaw.

“Din…”

Her tongue skips over her lip—mocking him—damp and full and begging to be taken by his own, and her breath catches as he drags a thumb across that plump flesh, enrapt with the way her mouth parts so effortlessly for him—so fucking supple. Din’s gut twists and his blood thickens in his veins—the air between them rippling with something velvet and carnal.

He takes a step towards her. Her throat bobs.

“You’re gonna get sick,” she pouts in protest, rutting her palm into his chest, but there’s no fight in it. The blanket slips from her shoulders, hitting the ground with a dulled splat.

“Din,” she tries again, “I don’t want you to-"

He leans in, cradling her cheek, murmurs fanning over her face. “I’ll risk it.”

And he dissolves the gap, sealing her mouth with his in a tender kiss. It’s almost chaste at first, how they rove tentative and unhurried over each other—an innocent exploration— all until his tongue darts out to touch along her lip and she whimpers into him, letting Din dip into the dark cavern of her mouth. She tastes warm, like comfort and broth and rainy days, and he sighs as she brings her hands up to weave into his hair.

Neither of them fight for dominance like this—their tangle of soft sounds is perfectly balanced— Hatha; effort and ease, breath and body. He pushes, she relents—she surges forward, Din bends. They dance like this, slow as tar, until she catches his bottom lip between her teeth and tugs.

It’s like a switch has been flipped.

He seethes, inhaling sharply as his hands slide possessive and greedy down her body, grabbing fistfuls of her waist hidden under all the oversized layers, and crushing her into him. She’s making these airy noises, panting and urgent and fuck if it doesn’t tear him apart—viscerally, from the inside out.

Din walks her backwards, step for choreographed step, foxtrotting until she bumps into the kitchen table. He breaks away from the kiss to reach past her, frantically pushing away the unopened mail and receipts and loose change, the jingling of her keys cutting through the wanton quiet as they clang onto the tile, and he hitches her up to sit there with one fell swoop.

“I wanna make you feel good,” he husks, inbetween the bites he’s searing onto her neck. “Please, just lie back for me sweet girl.”

“Din, I-“

He silences her with a nibble to her ear, coaxing a breathy yelp out of her. “Lie back, baby.”

It doesn’t take much convincing after that. She acquiesces, Din’s wide palm splayed on her breasts, guiding her to recline back onto the table. He makes speedy work of her sweatpants, yanking them down her legs and flinging them off to land in a crumpled heap.

He sinks to his knees, pulling the cradle of her hips to the edge of the table before parting her thighs. The gloss of her cunt, wet and glistening for him, makes his hardening cock jump up to his stomach, and she twitches as soon as the cool air brushes against her.

“Fuck me,” he groans, whispering into her heat like he’s pained, like the sight alone is torturing him—like it’s slowly but surely ending his fucking life.

Din breathes her in with a sigh, that summer fruit tang— the scent of her aching and pulsing for him— and he starts tracing up and down her inner thigh with his tongue and teeth, nibbling along the path there until he’s at her apex. He’s dimpling her pliant skin with his calloused fingertips, strong hands wrapped under her knees, keeping them splayed as he kisses along her outer lips, nipping at her hip bones, teasing everywhere but where she needs him most.

It’s devastating—debilitating—and she’s shaking now. Every muscle, every fiber of her, convulsing with anticipation—with the promise of being dissected, of being torn apart and stitched back together again. She’s already got a hand covering her mouth, muffling the sobs he’s drawing out as he toys with her— playing her like a fucking fiddle.

Din’s eyes flit up to find her like this, brow pinched tight and cries stifled, and he chuckles— he fucking laughs— heady and ambered into her legs.

“You doin’ alright up there, teach?”

“F-Fuck you,” she hisses out with a weak whine.

God, she’s fucking perfect.

“You need something, sweetheart?” He smirks— she can feel the shape of it against her thigh, the way his stubble grates along her skin— and she can only mewl, speechless. Pathetic.

“Yeah, I know what you need...” Din hums, before finally - finally - taking mercy on her.

With one single drag, he tongues a broad stripe up her slit.

The noise that rips through her sounds like she’s being strangled— it gets caught in her throat like a trapped animal in hot car— a desperate little thing clawing to get out. Her nails scrape against the wood, leaving nicks in the chestnut lacquer. Immediately, she cants up to him, searching for his mouth hungrily and Din all but obliges as he clasps onto her hips, keeping her still while he fucks into her.

He’s carving her out— hollowing her; burying himself in her folds, nosing against her mound. He laps her up in kitten licks, delving the muscle of his tongue in and out of her, leaving her weak and gasping. Din laves up and down and side to side in clever little swivels, before he reaches her clit and sucks.

Her fist shoots from her mouth to grip his wavy locks, grinding shamelessly against his face.

“O-Oh my god, Din - fuck - Din. Oh fuck oh fuck-"

He loves it when she gets like this; that serene and tranquil exterior— the one that can quell a studio full of strangers into a haze with only the sound of her voice, that voice he can’t get out of his fucking head, the one that got them into this mess in the first place— shattered, mutilated beyond recognition and all she has left is her need— her wild, unbridled need.

Her need for his tongue, for his fingers, for his dick. Din Din Din, she only wants him— only needs him.

He slips a finger into her, easing past his knuckle in one movement, and her chin tips back, crown of her head digging into the table, hair mussing against the wood grain.

Her nipples have pebbled through her shirt, her pretty feet arched and contorted, and she’s heaving - writhing - like this above him.

He adds another digit, pumping in and out, the squelch of her pussy sounding lewd and obscene and fucking divine as he grazes her clit with his teeth, pulling at it.

“Fuck-” she rasps, legs quivering on their own accord— instinct and reflex demanding she tremble— and Din moans into her sex, feeling her walls constrict around his fingers, and he curls them up as he thrusts, hitting against that spongy patch insider her that makes her vision go white.

“Din, I- I’m—"

She can’t manage the rest. Instead of words, she cries— high pitched and wounded, as if she’s barely making it out alive. Her legs clamp around his head, bracing him there, and she cums— she loses it for him— her slick coating his nose, his lips, the hair speckled around his chin. She soaks him, and it leaves Din rocking his hips and humping the fucking air— as randy as a teenager, ravenous for anything, even if it’s just the friction of his pants drawn tight around his erection.

He takes her through her orgasm, lapping at her softly until she’s warbling—a slew of nonsense babbling out of her— and he leans back on his heels to admire his work, eyes singeing into her cunt made puffy and swollen pink, fluttering at the loss of him.

He plants one final kiss to the cleft of her pussy before shifting his weight back up to his feet, slotting himself between her.

Fuck, he isn’t as young as he once was— he feels his age in the ache of his knees. All the yoga in the world can’t erase his scar tissue, can’t undo time.

But he thinks maybe—if he’ll let himself—that she makes him feel younger. Lighter.

He squeezes her calf and begins to move away when she whimpers, bolting upright to palm greedily at the bulge pressing painfully against its constraint, her fingers fidgeting with his zipper and Din— in an uncharacteristic show of strength and self restraint— gingerly clasps onto her wrists, holding her still.

“Hey,” he murmurs, and her eyes snap up to meet his. “This isn’t about me.”

“No, but-”

“You don’t- we don’t have to-"

“Din,” she pants, grabbing onto the waist of his jeans and pressing her center into him, smearing herself along the denim there, her pearled clit catching on the rough fabric. Her eyes have gone jet-black with desire, obsidian lust burning through them. “Din, fuck me. Please fuck me, plea-“

Shit.

He’s never moved so fast in his goddamn life, unbuttoning his jeans in a flash, untucking himself— throbbing, leaking already—from his briefs. He gives himself two rough jerks, his blunt tip prodding at her entrance, before pushing into her with a gasp.

Fuck, she’s warm— not just warm, she’s hot. She’s molten, and she’s milking him for all he’s worth, gripping around him, fucking strangling his cock with how wet she is—how tight. God, she’s a fucking dream—a nightmare too, undoubtedly.

“Fuck baby - shit - you’re—hnng-” He groans—can’t even form a real sentence—all of his blood has rushed out of his brain and straight to the juncture where their bodies meet.

His eyes flutter deliriously at the feeling of her stretching around him like this and for a passing, fleeting moment, he considers the fact that he should be gentle with her— that she’s not feeling well, that she’s probably sore with body chills and God knows what else and that she should rest—

But once her knees are split apart and legs spread long— so fucking flexible, fuck she’s killing him— his well-met concern all but abandons him.

He fucks her hard— so hard she falls back, that unforgiving surface bruising into her spine. He probably hurts her a little—just how he likes, just how she loves.

Din plows into her, digging into the meat of her thighs, slamming into the pussy that takes him so fucking well, the pussy that feels like it’s made for him— like she’s made for him— and the table shudders with each roll of his hips, scraping it inch by inch along the tile, knocking against the chairs with loud, clattering bangs.

“W-Wait— wait wait wait-“ she pants, hands scampering up to his arms.

He slows his thrusts until he’s stilled inside of her, worry creasing around his eyes. “W-What? Are you okay—what’s wrong?”

“T-The table," she whines, “it’s from fucking IKEA. I built this piece of shit myself— there’s no way it’s gonna stay standing with you fucking me into it like this.”

Din barks out a laugh, throaty and genuine, and for the second time today, he comes to the conclusion that she’s perfect.

“Bedroom?” she nods down the hall.

“Bedroom,” he growls before scooping her up, lifting her off the table, her legs scrambling to hook around his waist, forearms bracing around the broad plain of his shoulders.

“Din!” she squeals in surprise, “I can walk, you know.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles, giving her a bounce and a light slap to her ass. “You’re sick.”

///

“Onions,” he mutters, leaden eyelids nestled shut.

He didn’t mean to stay over this long—well past sunset, later than he’s ever allowed himself—but how could he be expected to leave? After she came on his cock - twice - and he had filled her up until his cum was gushing from her, extricating himself out of this exact position of woven, spent limbs and sweat stained sheets sounded criminal.

“What?” She cranes groggily up at him.

“The sub. She smelled like onions. And patchouli.”

“Hey,” she tuts in mock offense, “Brenda is nice.”

“Good for Brenda. Doesn’t make her smell any better.”

“God, you are so rude,” she laughs, shaking her head as she nuzzles into Din’s side, lips curving into a sleepy grin against his chest—right above the aching thump of his caged heart.

Taglist (I apologize if I missed anyone!):

@radiowallet @pedros-mustache @djarinsbeskar @chasingdreamers @greatcircle79 @iamskyereads @imnotinlove-thisisnotyoursong @fan-of-encouragement @read-and-rec @helmet-comes-off @keeper0fthestars @hellabaybee @ourmotherofyearning @krissology

[2jaeh]

Bibliophile | Xiaojun x Reader

Genre: fluff, smut

Word count: 2,3k

Warnings: mature themes

Author: SIN

Two literature master students decide to make their steamy romance troupe debates a reality.

——————————————————————————

Your heels clicked against the marble floors as you ran over to the university library, hoping the evening rain wouldn’t worsen when you crossed the open courtyard.

Most of the students were either heading back to their dorm rooms or messing around in the common areas, while the only thing that rang in your head was to not be late for your part-time job at the restricted section of the library.

At first you had no damn clue why they needed someone to work there, especially since some of the books were even restricted to lecturers. But thanks to your century old university and their obsession with keeping their sacred books in pristine condition, all they needed was a literature masters student to help out from time to time.

You entered the library and greeted the woman at the front desk before she buzzed you in through to the door that led upstairs to the restricted area.

You quickly jogged up the stares and swung open the door only to be greeted by the only other person working around here, Xiao Dejun.

“You’re late again” his lips curled into a smile as he pushed up his gold framed glasses and inspected a dust covered book.

“Yeah the rain was just-“

“Crazy ?” Dejun peered up and pursed his lips, knowing that every excuse you had always ended in the same word.

“Yeah crazy” you half chuckled and removed your burgundy coat, making your way over to sign in the shift card.

All you knew about Dejun was that he finished his masters and was offered a lecture position at the university but decided to take up this job instead. He was very reserved and once told you that he craved the utter peacefulness of the restricted area, where he was usually either on his own or with you.

“I’m halfway on my thesis now” you said casually as you started fixing the binding of a physics book from the 70s.

“Oh?” Dejun raised his eyebrow and pulled out a chair next to you to tend to his own book repair, “I’m sure you’re glad it’s almost over right?”

You squinted your eyes and sighed, burying your head in your hands as that familiar migraine began to set in. “I’m....stuck” you groaned and peered up at Dejun, “I decided to dissect the romance genre of literature and honestly most of it is hot garbage.”

Dejun let out a laugh and you admired how his dark eyebrows knitted together, making his face look quite animated.

“What books have you studied if you don’t mind me asking ?” Dejun asked, his curious eyes met with yours as he shifted closer in his chair.

“Everything from Shakespeare to Nicolas Sparks, I just hate them all” you pouted and slumped back in your chair, moving the half bound book aside,

“Don’t get me wrong, I chose romance because I love it you know ? I just don’t think that those ‘classics’ do it any justice.”

Dejun nodded at your words and shrugged, “I agree with you, not a fan of that forbidden romance and rich girl poor man stuff either.”

“Right ?” Your eyes lit up and Dejun grinned at your passionate attitude. He’d always found you cute. Every so often he had the chance to work with you on a shift we’re always his best days. He’d listen to you rant about your professors, the music you hated on the radio, or the fact that someone stole your favourite parking spot.

“So....” Dejun folded his arms, “how would you change it ?”

“Change it?” You quirked a brow.

“What’s your perfect romance troupe ?” Dejun smiled softly and his soft brown eyes drew you in and made you feel warm, safe.

“Well for starters I think intimacy should come first and then the characters learn how to love each other as they develop their relationship” you explained, getting up from your chair and began pacing the small room,

“I don’t mind the cliche of they grab the same book or vinyl, I just prefer that instead of 7 chapters of them thinking about that moment they just take the leap right there.”

Dejun pondered on your words for a bit and also got to his feet, leaning against the table as he watched you pace back and forth.

“Would it work for people who somewhat knew each other before hand though ? A friend ? A colleague ?” Dejun quizzed and you nodded quickly,

“Yeah if there’s no prior feelings or hookups then why not ?”

“I guess we can’t test it then since we like each other huh ?” Dejun smirked returning to his seat innocently as you stopped abruptly and quickly tried to process what he had just said.

“I....we...don’t like each other ?” You stammered while ignoring the fact that your heart was racing against your chest.

Dejun chuckled as he carefully inspected one of the pages of his book, “the funny part is that you’re practically experiencing your ideal romance troupe and contradicting yourself by not owning up to the fact that we do in fact...like each other.”

Your mind was racing on every evening that you’ve spent with Dejun up until today. First day it’s true you both did a double take on each other and you found him extremely attractive. Day seven the two of you reached for the only hard cover copy left of Pride and Prejudice and spent the whole night critiquing the book until you lost track of time. Day seventeen you were packing books on the top shelf and as you descended down the steel steps you lost your balance and fell right into his arms.

You were literally living a goddamn romance troupe without even knowing it.

“By your words y/n, we need to skip a few steps now shouldn’t we ?” Dejuns eyes were still on his book, but he knew damn well that your eyes were on him.

“You’re right Dejun” you finally said and folded your arms across your chest.

Dejun turned his head to face you and narrowed his eyes, “I’m supposed to be the one making the move ? What happened to a change of scenery ? Uh women empowerment?”

You grabbed his hand and headed to the back of the room where the roof slightly slanted and the window panels were covered with water droplets as the night sky drew in. You neatened your blue plaid skirt and leaned against the old wood of a work station desk. Dejun cocked his head as you bit down on your lip, not knowing how to proceed to the next step.

“Why here ?” Dejun raised an eyebrow, removing his glasses and tucked them in the top pocket of his white buttoned down.

“I don’t know the setting is....pretty, also when we first met you were sitting at this desk reading the last book a literature master student would be reading” you stifled a laughter.

“Hey Harry Potter is my childhood” Dejun groaned, cutely rolling his eyes, something he did quite often and you would pester him to the point of seeing that reaction.

“Dejun,” you placed your hand on his cheek and his attention was focused on you, those soft brown eyes bore into yours as he took a step closer.

You felt the butterflies in your stomach as he softly wrapped his hand around the small of your back and placed the other on the back of your head. You finally leaned in and he did the same meeting your lips, for the first time and sighed. The kiss was soft, the two you just melted in the instant connection, basking in the feeling before continuing to deepen the kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer until your bodies were pressed against each other, fitting each other’s silhouettes perfectly. Dejun slipped his hands down to your thighs and picked you up and placed you on the desk, not breaking the kiss as he slipped in between your legs.

“I’m afraid I’m going to want more than this” you sighed into the kiss, unable to remove your hands from his toned body as you felt the closeness of him between your legs making you feel aroused.

“Come back to my place” Dejun whispered as he began attacking your neck with kisses and played with the hem of your skirt.

You can’t remember if you said yes or just nodded but you were now in Dejuns car on his way to his place. You enjoyed the passionate kiss he shared with you at the stop street and the occasional squeeze of your thigh when he would make turn into a new road.

The rain had begun pelting down and thankfully you were already pulling into his apartment lot before it became really hazy. Dejun turned to his backseat and realized he had left his umbrella back at the library and sighed,

“Running hand in hand in the pouring rain troupe ?” He held out his hand and you chuckled, “always been on my bucket list anyway.”

The two of you ran for about half a minute in the pouring rain but it was enough to completely drench you from your head down to your shoes. Dejun quickly punched in the code of his door and pulled you inside, already covering you in kisses as his blonde hair stuck to his forehead.

It was one item of clothing after another as the trail of clothes led down to his bedroom, where he had you in just your lacy nude coloured two piece set while he was slowly ridding himself of his pants.

You fell into his bed as you watched him slowly pull his leather belt from its hoops and his black slacks finally fell to the ground,

“You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met you know that ?” Dejun groaned as his eyes scanned over your body and he hovered over you.

“I could say the same about you Xiao Dejun” you mused and pulled him in for another hot passionate kiss. His warm body settled on yours and you wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting him closer even though it wasn’t even possible at this point.

Dejun unclipped your bra and moved his lips down to your breasts, squeezing one in his hand while licking and nipping at the other. You arched your back wanting more but also not wanting to rush him.

“Really want this to last much longer but I’m at my wits end right now” you moaned and Dejun chuckled as he peppered kisses all the way back up to your mouth.

“We have tonight, tomorrow, the next day and the day after that” he smirked against your lips before tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.

Distracted by the stinging sensation from your lip you shivered at Dejuns icy fingers that was now hooked in the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down.

He watched as you squirmed beneath him. Watched how your eyes closed and how you sucked in your bottom lip, awaiting his next move.

You mewled when you felt the cool air hit your arousal and Dejun rubbed slow circles on your clit before pushing two fingers inside you, making you moan his name for the first time that night.

His fingers moved slowly but roughly while his lips softly pecked your hips, abdomen and the very top of your mound.

He was so gentle with you but his movements were still dominating, the mixture was absolutely intoxicating. You pulled him up missing the taste of his lips and before pressing his mouth on yours he caressed your cheek,

“Let me know if it’s too much okay?” He whispered against your lips and you nodded not knowing what you were in for.

Dejun locked your arms above your head and used his free hand to remove his boxers before entering you, already finding a rhythm to his thrusts. You threw your head back and moaned his name yet again as he slammed in and out of you, his grunts and your whimpers filling the bedroom.

His hand stayed locked on your wrists as he used his other hand to knead your breast, giving you multiple sensations at once. You almost hated the fact that you were close to your peak and it hadn’t been more than five minutes of him inside you.

“God I really don’t wanna cum right now” you whined as he still pounded mercilessly inside you.

“Good thing I’m not gonna let you” Dejun murmured and just as you thought your orgasm had reached, he pulled out of you and rolled onto his back,

“Get on top.”

You listened to his instructions but before sitting back on his member you gave him a few pumps, finally able to see him squirm under your touch this time round. Dejun gave you a small smack on your butt, and you finally abided to his request and sat on top of him, the new position already bringing you back to where you started.

Dejun sat up to meet your thrusts as you rode him, and you found your hand tangled in his messy locks as the two of you practically screwed the hell out of each other. The kiss this time was filled with lust, filled with lip biting and exchanging of saliva as you felt your orgasm fast approaching and noticed Dejun’s pace was slowing down too,

“cum for me baby” Dejun mused as he used the last of energy to give you a few hard thrusts until you finally came undone and he followed quickly after.

It took about two minutes of trying to catch your breath before you finally rolled on the bed next to him and wiped the beads of sweat from your forehead.

“Yeah this...this was definitely missing in some of those novels” you turned to Dejun who had a smile spread across his face.

He pulled the covers over your bodies and pressed his lips to your forehead and cheek,

“Should we write our own novel then ?”

“Yeah, yeah we should” you smiled, closing your eyes feeling at peace as his warmness enveloped you.

[wing-ed-thing]

Retail Therapy (Kakuzu x Reader)

Synopsis: Deidara has a new partner for a combined effort with the Zombie Combo. However, something about you has Kakuzu heated.

Word Count: 2,123

Tags/Warnings: Violence, Threat of Violence, Probably Language, Gender Neutral Reader

Notes: Kakuzu content is probably some of the best stuff I’ve ever written. Right now I’m watching a video on fried milk. Ever hear of such a thing? Fascinating.

Kakuzu didn’t like being paired up with Hidan, let alone joint missions where he’d have to deal with even more people. Not to say that Kakuzu hated people, because he did, but he never thought that he’d hate anyone more than he absolutely hated you. He hadn’t even met you yet, but he knew at his very core that you would quickly become the bane of his entire existence.

“Shopping?” Kakuzu asked slowly, the word forming on his lips as if he had an aversion to even speaking it. Deidara leaned back on the large bounder that he settled on and stretched his arms up above his head. The blond nodded with a short groan before his hands came to rest behind his head.

“Yep,” he answered, “And for hours too, so I’d get comfortable.” Hidan plopped down on a patch of dirt below, his back and scythe against the side of the rock. Kakuzu glared down at his partner causing Hidan to shrug. To Hidan, if Deidara thought that the three of them would be waiting a while, he would take his word and make himself comfortable. Kakuzu’s attention turned back to Deidara.

“Hours? What possibly could someone be purchasing that takes them hours?” Hidan gazed up from his spot, head tilted back against the surface behind him.

“And we only came like five minutes late too. Who takes off like that?” Kakuzu almost nodded in agreement, but knowing his partner, Hidan would take any excuse to complain. Deidara shrugged, basking in the warmth of the sun and stayed lounging even as a rustling came from the woods. Hidan’s hand immediately reached up to grip the handle of his weapon and Kakuzu took a defensive stance. Deidara’s eyes remained closed.

“Oh hello, boys! I didn’t know you were here!” You sauntered out of the trees, bags hanging from both arms. They were pushed tightly in a line, every other patch of your skin strained by the handles of a different shopping bag. Even in your altered Akatsuki cloak, Kakuzu took a look at you and immediately decided that you were decorated far too ornately and that he’d like to kill you when he had the chance. You were objectively beautiful, but if Kakuzu had his way, Deidara would have to be assigned another partner soon. “You haven’t been waiting for too long, have you?”

“You shouldn’t have left us waiting at all,” Kakuzu glowered, although not any more than usual. Either you didn’t hear him or you ignored him as you walked up to your partner. You plucked a package from one of your more reachable bags.

“I got you something, Dei-dei!” You threw it up to Deidara weakly but he managed to catch it. He opened the small, folded, paper bag. Deidara glanced down at you with a nod of his head and a fold of his lips. He took the neat band in his hand while you looked at him expectantly. “Aren’t they nice? Hair ties. Silk from a small village in the Land of Water.” Deidara held them up to the sun.

“That’s some great quality you found. Thanks.” Your partner glanced down at you again. “Must’ve been one hell of a fight assuming that you got a good price for it.” Kakuzu looked on at your exchange, increasingly beginning to lose his temper.

“Believe me, I did. And I found a ton of other great finds too. I gotta show you—”

“Enough,” Kakuzu growled and you finally turned your attention his way. Hidan had since passed out against the boulder that Deidara sat on. “You’re wasting all our time. The sooner we start, the sooner we can part ways.” You gave Kakuzu a once over with your nose wrinkled in disgust.

“Well someone’s grumpy,” you mused. You rolled your eyes and pointed your nose upward. Huffing, you threw your shopping bags into the air and as they fell, you swiftly unfurled a scroll. Your new items disappeared one by one. You rolled the paper back up, scowling as you slipped the scroll into one of many slots that you wore strapped to your clothing. The pockets ran down the small of you back and you latched the bundle of paper in place with a flip of your nimble fingers. Kakuzu frowned back, tentatively wondering if all the scrolls you carried contained the same amount of shopping bags. You approached him with crossed arms. “Okay then, tough guy. Let’s get started.”

You sat down and summoned a map of the next village. It laid out in front of you and placed your hands on your knees in challenge. Kakuzu sat down on the other side of the map, eyes boring into you. You didn’t budge. And as you began to speak, it was hard to focus, at least for Deidara. Though he supposed he’s seen you this fired up before.

“It would be easier if we lure the jinchūriki outside of the village,” you said, gesturing to the small, unnamed village on the map. It wasn’t large, but just big enough to serve as a maze for your prize. At least you knew the woods better and a jinchūriki was bound to stand out among the trees.

“I can get up some traps,” Deidara added and you nodded.

“Back them into a corner and cage them into a small space—” You nodded again— “We can use some explosives around the area… maybe here?” You pointed to a section of the map outside of the village. You looked up at Deidara. “You’d be our last line of defense when the jinchūriki tries to run.” Deidara smirked and puffed out his chest.

“Leave it to me!”

“We’ll need someone to drive the jinchūriki out of the village,” Kakuzu cut in, not particularly liking how you dominated the strategizing. “I’ll go with Hidan.” While Kakuzu thought that he would stop at nothing to get away from the Jashinist, this had to be a regrettable first. Hidan napped a few feet away.

You raised an eyebrow and scoffed, “You and Hidan? Psh… might as well have Deidara set off fireworks in the sky that spell out ‘single, hot jinchūriki in your a—”

“I can do that!” Deidara cut in before immediately backing down at Kakuzu’s pointed glare, not that he’d show it. You locked eyes with Kakuzu, taking his fiery stare off of your partner.

“I’ll go. You’re too conspicuous and, really, have you seen Hidan? You two would be spotted a mile away.” Kakuzu almost snarled.

“And you wouldn’t?” You let out a short, bitter laugh. Your left arm supported your weight as your knees touched together on the right side of your body. Kakuzu scowled at your blatant lounging. Everything about you challenged him and he hated you for it. Your lids narrowed in a smug smile.

“I’m not the one—” who’s fuckin’ jacked — “ with big-ass black stitches across my whole body.”

“And four faces on his back…” Hidan called out, still half asleep. You turned back to Kakuzu.

“And four faces on his back,” you repeated, much to Kakuzu’s vexation. The sass in your blinks was lost on the older shinobi. He stood, causing you to stand too. Deidara took a hint and retreated. Kakuzu crossed his arms over his chest and he planted his feet on the ground about the same width apart as his broad shoulders. He pointed two fingers at you harshly.

“And you’re—” Gorgeous. — “a brat. I should just kill you right here.” You stood your ground, daring to slap Kakuzu’s hand out of your face.

“As much as I’d like to see you try, tough guy, I’d actually like to do some quality work and get the hell away from you as quickly as I can.” Kakuzu huffed, gritting his teeth underneath his mask.

“Nice to hear that we’re on the same page.”

And with neither of your partners wanting to deal with either of you pissed off, you and Kakuzu were paired together.

***

Deciding that your cloaks were too noticeable, you sealed yours away. Kakuzu kept his draped across his arm, distrust of you evident. You walked down the road together under the late afternoon, waiting for nightfall. You hoped that striking at night would give you not only the surprise advantage, but also minimize the number of clueless civilians that would no doubt wander in your way. But as soon as your eyes fell onto the market, Kakuzu quickly began to wonder if his stubbornness landed him with an even larger headache. But his usual, standoffish demeanor remained the same. Kakuzu’s eyes drifted to their corners as he scowled down at you.

“No.” That was all he said, as if you would actually listen to him and not immediately march in the direction of the market. He reluctantly followed, every reach to hold you back by your robes falling just a bit short each time. By the time you were stopped, too many people surrounded the two of you for him to pull you away without drawing attention. Normally, attention from others wasn’t anything that Kakuzu would be concerned with, but your two teams had their orders and Kakuzu would be damned if he had to spend anymore time with you.

You stood in front of a booth with your hand on your chin. Kakuzu stood next to you, following your gaze to a simple, but sturdy-looking sword. You gingerly picked it up, carefully studying it’s craftsmanship. The man behind the booth leaned over his table, motioning to the piece of merchandise in your hands.

“Ah, you have a good eye, mercenary.” You glanced up at him.

“Land of Earth? Lots of excellent craftsmanship comes from there, I’m not surprised.” You ran your thumb across the dull of the blade. “Antique too, but still hardy.” The merchant nodded pointing to a few spots across the weapon.

“Could get you out of a bind too. Reliable smithing comes from Tsuchi no Kuni.” Kakuzu looked on at the show in front of him. In stark contrast to earlier, you seemed poised and he found you knowledgeable. You appeared calm and competent enough to handle yourself and for a second, Kakuzu became lost in your analysis.

You stepped back, turning the sword around in your hand to feel out the balance. The blade whipped around your body with ease. The seller softly applauded your embellished practice. Kakuzu almost rolled his eyes, but took some comfort in the fact that you were looking to purchase something of quality and not just anything at the very least. You looked down at the weapon with a nod or two before asking the dreaded question.

“So what’s your price?” The merchant didn’t hesitate.

“A hundred thousand ryō.” Kakuzu almost left right there, but a dominant part of him wanted to know what you were going to do. His hands grasped his biceps, his cloak still hanging from his forearm. Kakuzu watched you closely. You shook your head.

“You’re going to give it to me for twenty-five thousand.” The merchant gaped at the outrageous price you named. He sputtered a few times.

“That price is far too low for this quality. You must be joking if you think I’d sell this fine piece of equipment for practically nothing.”

You did name a ridiculous price. Not even Kakuzu could see getting what you wanted for that price without a fair bit of violence and intimidation. But you ripped into that merchant. You ripped into this poor seller like nothing Kakuzu had ever seen before. He didn’t even know if he could call it bartering, but whatever it was, it was likely one of the most skillful things that Kakuzu had ever seen.

He folded his lips under his mask. You didn’t yell. Kakuzu didn’t even find your appearance intimidating in the slightest, yet every point and number the merchant brought up, you countered. And by the end of the intense conversation, if Kakuzu didn’t know any better and had less of a spine, he’d likely be handing the sword over too. The man had long since started sweating, tugging at his collar. If Kakuzu didn’t see it with his own eyes, he wouldn’t have believed it as you handed over exactly twenty-five thousand ryō. He almost overlooked the complete waste of money as he still stood stunned, though not outwardly showing any such emotion.

You nestled the sword by your hip and the seller let out a breath of relief by the time you walked away. Kakuzu followed wordlessly next to you as you strutted off in triumph.

Perhaps he misjudged you. He stared, not noticing as he did so.

Yes, you were going to save the organization a fortune.

Notes: “oH mY gOd KaKuzU sAiD hE wAs GoNna KiLl rEader! wHy wOuLd yOu wRiTe sOmEtHiNg sO tOxIc???”... They’re criminal terrorists, Susan.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed and otherwise supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

[bloodycassian]

LEATHERBOUND PART 2 - Reader x Cassian

The bell at the front didn't ring when he stepped inside. The oddity of it made him stop in his tracks. That, and the pile of books you crouched over.  "What happened?" He gasped, taking in the small shop. There was broken glass inside, but the front window was already replaced. The shards cast a delicate shimmer over the entire inside. The mud caked onto the back wall where your desk sat reeked. "Are you okay?" Concern was painted plainly across his features. Rage roiled inside his gut at the thought of anyone who would do you harm. What if you had been inside when it happened?  He couldnt bare to think of it. Couldn't tempt himself to imagine what he would do to whoever did it. He would have showed them why the Lord of Bloodshed was named as such. His rage ceased when he saw the strain your wings showed as you tried to push one of the stacks of books back up. He rushed to your side and helped you push it up, only a few smaller novels fell out.  You waved him off, trying to ignore the way his concern made you downright giddy. "Some kids... It happens every now and again." You sighed, picking up the runaways from the floor. You were grateful your collection hadn't been damaged. Thankfully the spells had worked and warded against them actually entering the shop.  Cassian stooped to help you pick up the few that had fallen, then you noticed his boots. "Shoes!" You squeaked. He swore under his breath and kicked them off at the front, returning to help you. His muscle was a great help in re organizing. You got the piles straight this time, and without hurting yourself. You also didn't need a ladder to get the stacks all to the same height. "Anything else?" He asked, placing the final pile atop the last row.  "Ahh.." You glanced above the door where the bell no longer was. "If you could find me a new bell... I dont know what happened to the old one." The bell had been in the shop since it was your grandmothers. It did hold sentimental value, but nothing that would kill to be gone. It was on its final days anyway you told yourself.  "Any preference what kind?" He asked, flipping through a novel about Wyverns. He smiled a bit and set it back where it had been. The glass on the floor reflected rainbows all over the small rooms, it painted your skin with them. He tried not to stare at the beauty there. "One that works." You smiled. "I'm going to owe you that gold piece back for helping me."  "Dont worry about it. You can help me in return." You led him to your usual spot at the counter. He leaned against it casually, in a way that made him look at peace in your nook. Your heart squeezed at the thought of him being so at ease in your space. "We're looking for an old tome. Something that you would definitely recognize." He dragged a finger across the tabletop, along a long carved initial of some Illyrian child long ago. You hummed, thinking about the few tomes you'd encountered on your travels before settling in Illyria as a book merchant. "What year?" You asked, hoping to help in some way. Even if it was to steer him a different direction. You wanted to help him find whatever he needed.  "Unknown... it may be made from stone." He said, his voice quieting. You stilled at the words. The oldest stone tomes were the ones that meant no good was coming. The book of breathings had been one of them. You could feel the color drain from your face. He nodded, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.  "It's important. If you know anything... please let me know." He gave you a grim smile and patted the desk. "And I expect that cake next time I come over too." He tapped the wood counter and gave you a quick goodbye. "If you need anything let me know!" He called halfway out the door.  You wished you could. You wished you did have some way to 'let him know'. you sulked in the back room for the rest of the day.  === "Where's my cake?" "It's been two weeks, I gave it to the shop next door." You scolded, putting the silvers from the last customer into your box. "It was going bad." You reasoned when he pouted at you. "Well was it good at least?" He pulled a blue and brown leather clad book from a shelf, observing it.  "I dont know, I didn't try it." You admitted, stepping back from the wall to see your newest decoration. A nice wooden clock that you had repaired.  He looked at you with an appalled expression.  "Despite you not making good on our deal, I made good on mine. Your bell, as requested." He presented the small bronze bell with a hook to you. You grinned, taking it from him and testing it. He watched your eyes light up at the sound. It wasn't just a bell. It was a chime. It rang out different sounds from each angle it hit. "Cass-" He stopped you, ready for your protests.  "You cant make me return it. I threw the box in the Sidra and they wont take it back without it." He was smug about it. And he didn't feel bad about making you take the gift either. His hope soared when you gave him a glare, but dinged the bell again.  "Well... you need to install it." You nodded to the empty hook above the door. He smiled wildly and got to work. If he was honest with himself, any reason to be around you more was welcome. Even if it was as simple as replacing a bell. Hell if he could read a book to you that'd be a dream for him.  He was addicted. He had to admit it to himself. But he didn't have the willpower to quit you. It was a strange feeling. He normally had resentment ever visiting Illyria, but lately it had been nothing but joy at the prospect seeing you. You went to the back room, weaving around stacks upon stacks of books. There had been more incoming lately, due to a temple in Summer court being destroyed. The books salvageable were sent all over Prythian, and somehow most ended up with you. The bell chimed, loud and musical. It would take a few weeks to get used to it. It filled you with a joy that sparked. "That sounds great!" You called, bringing over a book that you had set aside for him. It was one of the older ones in the collection, and one of the worst smelling. You wanted to show him in part just to see his reaction to the smell. It had been at the bottom of one of the stacks that had gotten knocked over when the window was broken. "The Ancient ones? Are you making an age joke at me?" He gave you a mock glare, but flicked open the book. You closed it sharply, giving him a look he didn't understand.  "If I was it would be an insult to myself as well. It's the only book I could find that even mentioned what you're after." You flicked the small bookmark you had indicated the page with. Your eyes locked on to his, marveling for a second at the deep hazel there. "You should look at it, later." Your eyes darted behind him where someone approached your door. Your heart dropped. Behind the woman stood a group of Illyrians across the way, pointing at the shop and making large gestures. "I'll be seeing you." You dismissed Cassian, holding open the door for the familiar old woman with shriveled wings. She gave him a nod and kicked her small slippers off with ease. The males across the way turned back into their own conversation when Cassian appeared at the doorway. His eyebrows knit together at your rushing him, but he saw himself out. The bell dinged behind him when he left. The coldness of the wind did nothing to ease the worry he felt for your reaction. Did you not want to be seen with him? Was he supposed to be keeping your meetings a secret? He glanced back to the large storefront window, where you showed the female a section of novels on the far wall. You didn't glance back.  The market bustled with life, several vendors calling out deals and different items they offered. A group of loud males spat at the snow slicked ground as he passed. He ignored the rumble of rage in his stomach, continuing on to the edge of a cliffpoint off the back of a shop.  He took off with a yearning deep inside the pit of his stomach.

[starlightrows]

3 — The Pariah

The Queen of Tatooine Masterlist

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Pairing: Boba Fett x reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Non graphic violence, fire, hypothermia

Summary: Tempers rage in your small town, you are blamed for the less than savory change in patronage

Eventually the storm blew itself out, and your steady flow of patrons returned to eat, drink, stay the night, and move on. As autumn turned to winter, the storms and rain became more frequent, and began getting colder. Frost settled over the ground each night and melted by mid day.

A few weeks after Boba Fett had left your inn, on a chilly morning, you noticed a shift in the townspeople’s attitude towards you. Instead of quiet resentment or unspoken distaste, now they glared at you in the market. You were just trying to pick up some things you needed. More flour, a replacement pitcher for the one you knocked off the bar and broke, soap, and sewing needles. Many of the vendors would not speak to you, one of them wouldn’t even let you look at her wares. Confused and offended you tried to ask what you had done to have service refused, she met your gaze

“Your business is turning our town into a trading post for criminals and mercenaries” she spits “you can buy your soap somewhere else”

“I don’t choose who comes through this town” you point out

“Doesn’t matter, you let them stay” she snaps the box of cut soaps shut and gives you a look, trying to intimidate you into leaving

When you turn around, many of the other vendors at the market, and citizens of your town have gathered around the soap stall. Their voices rise up from their whispers to angry shouts and accusations.

People begin blaming you for their loss of profit, their stolen property… then the accusations get more and more fanatical. The storm that knocked over a large tree and damaged someone’s speeder, another man’s daughter running away to the next town for a boy, the town children’s new interest in playing “bounty hunters and thieves”.

You back away, try to leave the market and get back to the inn. But the crowd follows you, calling out horrible names and slurs. You pick up the pace and try to block them out, but the faster you go— the faster they get.

You’re running now, running to get away from the mob that seems to be growing with each house or business you pass. You’re almost there, if you can just get to the door. The head of the mob catches you by the fabric of your shirt and yanks you back. To your horror, the rest of the mob surges forward and breaks down your door.

Several men shove you and kick you to the ground every time you try to get up. You beg them to stop, to let you go, to make the rest of the townspeople stop what they’re doing.

You can hear them inside. Smashing your glasses, using rocks to shatter the windows, flipping the tables, ransacking the kitchen, probably stealing your money and your food.

Then there’s smoke rising from the back window. Someone must have knocked coals out of the hearth. People come pouring out of the inn, disappearing back into the town and surrounding woods carrying armfuls of your stuff and coughing as black smoke billows out of your home.

The men who had been keeping you down scattered off with the rest of the crowd. You got up on your knees as the flames overtook the inn… your business… your home… burning before your eyes, and you were powerless to stop it.

The sky darkens as ugly grey clouds mask the sun. You drag yourself away to the edge of the forest just in time for the rain to begin falling. Luckily the rainfall helps to beat back the red hot tongues of fire that have engulfed your home.

You sit for hours, half waiting for the mob to return and continue beating you with sticks. But there is only you, the rain, the ruins of your inn and the smoke that begins to rise into the sky. Rain comes and goes, and the sun begins to set behind mountains. The fire seems to have gone out. You know it’s dangerous to try to poke around in the wreckage, but you have no choice.

You haul yourself up, shivering on unsteady legs and step over what used to be the front wall. Blackened wood, melted and misshapen silverware, the hearth and chimney still stand. The entire upstairs has collapsed. It’s jarring to see burnt bed frames with charred mattresses covered in ash. There’s nothing left. What little you had that actually belonged to you was gone or burned beyond saving.

Night is falling and you’ll freeze if you don’t figure out some way to get warm or have shelter. You’ll figure out what to do tomorrow if you live to see the dawn. You continue to pick through the rubble until you find something you might be able to use. The wash basin you kept in the back and used to bathe and do your laundry. It’s made of metal and miraculously intact.

Dragging it away is more effort than you expected, it’s always been an awkward item to move around. But nevertheless you drag it away from the wreckage, just inside the treeline. Using two sturdy y-frame tree branches you prop it up against the wind, and set about making a small fire to stay warm.

Thank the Maker, it didn't rain again that night. And the fire reflected back against the bottom of the tub and kept you warm all night. At first light you’re up, putting out your campfire and picking through the rubble again to find anything that could be useful. You don’t find much… just an old hunting knife your father had left to you and an iron cup.

You decide your best course of action is to walk the 45 miles to the next settlement and either seek justice for what’s happened to you… or disappear and not make any trouble. The trek to get there will take three or four days, and that’s if you make good time. Might as well get a head start.

————

Word traveled quickly about what had happened. Many mercenaries, bounty hunters and their quarries alike arrive in town to stay at the inn and find that it’s been burned to the ground and the innkeeper has been driven out of town.

The desired effect of reducing criminal activity and foot traffic through the area does occur. But not before they’ve pillaged, vandalized and reaped havoc upon the entire settlement.

The one person in the criminal underworld who seems to miss out on this information is Boba Fett. He returns to your settlement to find the entire town struggling to pick up the pieces of their lives. Your inn is nothing more than a scorch mark on the ground it once sat on with a blackened brick hearth in the center.

His heart aches and his mind turns to dark thoughts of what could have happened to you, and who was responsible for it. He storms back into the settlement, and finds the nearest groveling peasant. It just so happens it was one of the men that kicked you down while your home burned.

“What happened here?” Boba demands. The man cowers from him and doesn’t answer. “I asked you a question. What happened?”

“It was the innkeeper” the man says hastily “She let all the criminals and mercenaries in the galaxy stay under her roof… and they ransacked the town”

He doesn’t buy it… something here doesn’t add up “I don’t believe you” growled pointing a blaster at the man “Either convince me, or tell me the truth”

“No no it’s true I swear! We drove her out of town hoping the crime in our settlement would stop”

Boba nods and lowers his blaster “Thank you”

The man looks relieved for a brief moment before he sees Boba raising his blaster again. Boba dispatches him quickly without so much as a word.

We drove her out of town, the man had said. He had no remorse for what happened. No concern for you, your livelihood they had uprooted. Boba was disgusted by it.

Boba returned to the ruins of your home and began to search for any signs of you, and where you might have gone. It doesn’t take him long to find the remnants of your smaller camp fire and the metal tub you used for shelter. A good sign that you were thinking on your feet and likely survived the fire.

He thought about you, put himself in your shoes and went through what must have been going through your mind. Where to go? What to do? Obviously remaining here would not be an option. So what’s the next step? Finding somewhere safer to go.

He knows of two other settlements in this region of your planet. One is 45 miles northeast and the other 62 miles southwest. Both are long trips to take on foot with no supplies. But if you were thinking strategically you would have chosen the 45 mile hike. There’s water sources in that direction and it’s a shorter distance. So that’s the direction he takes off.

————

It’s been three days and you’re not making good time as you hoped you would. No food and cold weather makes your movements slow. You’ve been drinking water but you can only trick your stomach for so long. Plus you’re traveling in the forest just within eye sight of the road because you don’t want to be seen by other travelers. The last thing you need is another angry mob.

Your head hurts and your stomach is bloated from drinking so much water, but you’re so hungry and exhausted from walking. You sit beside a tree near the stream you’ve been following up higher into the mountains.

You wonder what the new settlement will be like. You wonder what you will do there given that you have no money and nothing to trade. You wonder if they would help you take your money and land back if you explained what happened to you. Or would they too cast you out and leave you to fend for yourself. Winter is well on its way. If they don’t help you, you’ll be dead in a matter of weeks. If not from hunger, then exposure to the cold.

These are dark and scary thoughts. Normally you would push such thoughts away and busy yourself with work, but that’s not an option now. You have nothing but time, and your mind races with all the things you’ve lost.

You’ll never get married or have children. You’ll never get to expand your garden. You’ll never start the projects you’ve always dreamed of doing. Making your own clothes. Learning to paint. Writing stories. None of it. All your hopes and dreams will fade with you into the icy cold winds that will take you.

You have to try your inner voice urges you, you have to try to make it

That thought propels you forward. You force yourself to get up and keep walking towards the next settlement. You have to pause every 50 yards or so to rest against a tree, but you don’t let yourself sit back down. You have to keep going.

Meanwhile Boba takes a speeder and begins tracking you. He can tell you’re slowing down. Good because he’ll catch you soon, but bad because that definitely means you’re getting weaker. Suddenly he can see you on the tracking system in his helmet. He can see how slowly you’re moving. He gets off the speeder and goes on foot to catch up with you.

Switching off the tracking system he follows you from a distance for a moment or two. He calls out your name as gently as he can. You whip around and stumble sideways clinging to a tree to hold you up right. There is fear in your eyes. Usually when he’s hunting a bounty that is a mark of satisfaction for him, to strike fear and command respect. But you are not a bounty. He calls out your name again and removes his helmet and hopes you’ll recognize him.

He’s too far away and your vision is too blurry. In your sleep and food deprived mind he’s one of the people that burned down your inn and beat you on the ground. But you’ve poured all of your remaining energy into pushing forward, and have nothing left to put up a fight. You lean against your tree and stare blankly at the figure that you’ve decided is definitely here to kill you.

Boba approaches you slowly with his hands raised to show you he’s not going to hurt you. His face becomes more and more clear to you as he gets closer. You search your mind for the name that goes with his face you recognize. It’s not until he’s right in front of you, catching you by the arms as your knees buckle under you, that you find the name you’re searching for.

“Boba?” Your voice is small and weak, you barely recognize it “You came back?”

He takes you into his arms and pats your back “Of course I came back”

Tag List: @cannedsoupsucks @otterly-fey @paige6768 @littledragonlady

[asagao-4]

I hope you all enjoy this story I wrote on this prompt, I don't recall proof reading it if you have any advice of suggestions I will happily except them.

The prompt I was given: You are blind folded and being led through some woods. Describe what you can hear, smell and taste.

The wind is cold around me, the sound of trees rustling in the wind surrounding me along with some bird chirping and the occasional claw of crows. The smell of pine fills my nose, it's cool but not cold and dry. The ground solid underneath my feet, dirt, gravel, moss, Which is it? There's a clear sound of crunch in my step but it's also flat plain every few steps. We've been walking for a while now for at least fifteen or more minutes.

"Ian, where are we going?" I asked.

"You'll see Samuel" he responded to me as he crept behind me putting both his hands firmly on my shoulders edging me forward at a faster pace than before.

His grip is tight. It kinda hurts, but why would he take me out here? It's sunset and I've never been here before or even heard him mention it before. It's eerily odd because he always talks about all the places he's been to and this doesn't sit right with me. Kim did say that he was off from the start and that she heard he had some odd hobbies, maybe going to the woods to get some fresh air was one of them. After all he loved to draw, he's always sketching landscapes and places he's been to or seen. That would explain why he brought a backpack of his own with him and told me to grab some things of my own including a notebook and sketchbook. He was taking me to draw, right? I can hear the stuff in his bag move around every few steps. Pencils, paper, his thermas, and some unknown items. I can't quite tell what he has on him entirely, but I mostly can hear the rattle of pencils and paper rubbing together with some unknown clanking there. There's the sound of the water in his themas splashing.

We kept the same pace for what felt like forever how much time had gone by all I know is that it was quite a bit and it was getting excessive. The path seems to be fading, aren't we gonna stop somewhere? He didn't say anything about this place before did he? His right hand leaves my shoulder, then there's a click. I recognize it's his pocket compass. I've always wondered why he had it all the time he dodged it every time I'd ask about it or his watch. The wind picked back up for a minute, causing my hair to sway more than usual. it didn't make it any better that he proceeded to go even faster taking a sudden sharp left turn. Twigs snapped under my feet and brush surrounded them too, like I was stepping in a bush. Did we leave the path, what's happening? By now the few birds from earlier are now completely silent.

"Did we le-" I started

"Have I told you about how much I love mushrooms Samuel" he introjected. He doesn't normally do that, but things have had a few changes since we've been engaged. He's been more comfortable with me.

"Yes, you have a lot of times, dear" I responded.

Now that I think about it he has mentioned he likes to look at the mushrooms in the woods and this must be one of the places he's talked about before.

"Why did we leave the path?" I asked him.

I felt him lean over my shoulder and to my ear, it wasn't hard for him considering the height difference between us after I was merely five foot and he was five foot ten I think. He let out a warm breath causing me to shiver slightly, which made him chuckle lightly. After all it was a thing we would do to each other as a childish joke when the other least expected it.

"I have a special area out here I've been working on for a while now in fact I lived out here before I moved states to live in the city, I'd thought you'd want to see it. I've even made a cottage." He softly spoke into my ear sending a shiver down my spine. He never mentioned this before though he never did like talking about the past he'd always say the past is in the past and we should live in the here and now instead of dwelling of past events. After all it's called the present for a reason. I like that way of thinking about life, since ours lives are short we might as well try to enjoy them.

The brush around my feet began to get thicker as we continued through the forest the smell started to change to a little more like vinilla. The smell of pine fading and the brush seemed to thin a lot the ore we continued. I can hear a either a stream or river in the distance too. It happened quicker than I thought it would and stopped my train of thought instantaneously.

" Almost there, do you smell the oak trees, the vinilla. It's odd how similar the smell is to vinilla but it's nice. Don't you think so?" He said said head still next to my ear. Why does he feel the need to whisper, no one else is anywhere close to us, and this close distance is starting to bother me more and more. He's breathing down my neck, he could just hold my hand and lead me along instead, why is he doing this. This whole trip he's been acting more and more strange, it's starting to scare me. After all I took vacation time off work to come here with him, that it wherever this is.also yeah sure he's been acting weird,but I wouldn't tell him that in fear of hurting his feelings now he'd might just turn back and if miss a crucial memory with him. We've been walking for such a long time my feet are starting to hurt it must be completely dark by now anyways why would I want to turn back now. It's creeping me out that's why, what if something comes at us, but if we turn back it might end up being worse.

"Hey Ian," I begin

"Yes?"

"Aren't you scared that something might try and attack us?" I proceeded to ask voice almost trembling, "also can't I take the blind fold off now it's dark anyways" I state.

He took a breath sighing then continued with, "No I'm not scared of that happening because we're just about there and we can sleep in the cottage too. Also I can't have you take the blind fold off yet because the reason I waited till night to bring you here is because the surprise can only be seen properly in the dark so just wait patiently dear, for a few more minutes. Please." Finishing he finally moved away from my ear which took a bit of the anxiety away not that I'm worried about him, he's the sweetest man I've ever met.

"Hmm, m'kay then" I hummed in response

It was quiet for a while only the rattle of the things in his bag and the brush snapping or moving when we'd step. This time instead of reaching for something in his pocket he lightly picked up my hair, some of the thin brown strands falling back down.

"Your hair is really nice and pretty. It's soft and smooth to the touch, you take care of it so well. Such a nice gorgeous brown, so long too." He said

I can't blame him though he's complained about his a lot but still refuses to let me help him fix or change it. It's still soft and it's fluffy because of the slight curls. After a while of thinking and walking along I had either zoned out or got lost in thought because the brush was gone and he'd stopped me and looped around in front of me, taking my hand gently and leading me forward once more. His hand is slightly roughed up but it's soft and gentle. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, he stopped. Letting my hand go he reached behind my head he slowly untied the blindfold and held it. I open my eyes to a dark abyss. How did he manage to navigate like this?

"You can turn around now" he said

Turning around it's not so dark anymore there's mushrooms that cover the trees and a log pile illuminated the space with a bright green hue. The cabin lay ahead the door frames with mushrooms along with what looked like to be the original wood frame that the mushrooms grew on. It was an oak wood frame with mushrooms carved into it that contrasts with the logs that lead off. The cabin was covered in mushroom, lycan, moss, vines, some berry bushes, and what looked like hydrangea bushes. We're in a clearing in the woods completely surrounded by nature, the moon covered by the very few clouds there were. Though still shining enough to make the creek and lake shimmer in all of it's glory. Overall this place is beautiful. Who knew this was even out here. Words can't quite describe this place I'm speechless.

Ian let out a amused chuckle, "I'm guessing you like it judging by your silence"

"Yeah" I replied with a heavy exhale

I had turned around to look at him, he's smiling a soft, gentle, genuine smile. It's been a while since he had a genuine smile at home due to the overwhelming amount of work there is. I was getting worried about nothing earlier. He was just excited to show me this.

It's been a few hours now and we're laying down in bed, but why does something still feel off. I know there isn't anything wrong with this place there couldn't be. I shouldn't ponder these things I just need to sleep. Yeah, sleep, just sleep all I need is to sle-.

There's a lot of shuffling, " did you lose your phone or something, I told you to stop falling asleep with it every night," I said with a sigh.

Speaking of sleep, when and how did I fall asleep earlier, oh well I must have been more tired than I thought. After all, we were walking until I thought my feet were going to fall off. In fact they still hurt. I'm usually used to being on my feet but I've been too exhausted lately. The shuffling is still happening, " Ian let me help you look for- '' I cut off my sentence right away. He was sitting there looking at me. It's creepy and freaking me out but before I can even think about getting out of bed or away from the situation he spoke.

" Samuel I have a question" he stated

"Yeah?" I answered still shaking

He was blunt and straight to his point, " Would you die for me?"

"What? I mean yes, yes I love you dearly Ian." I panicked though it's not a lie if it came down to it I would.

He chuckled and grinning ear to ear his head tilted to the side, " oh that's great, I finally found someone" his tone almost sinister

I'm officially scared now," how is that great, found someone what does that mean, you're scaring me Ian why are we really how far out are we?" My words were fast and frightened , trembling, " who are you and what did you do to my fiance Ian, this isn't you I know it isn't." I don't want to believe that this is really him, my fiance . It can't be, I refuse to believe it.

"Don't worry it's me, everything is fine, but I have another question," he continued, getting even closer than before.

"What's the question?" I quickly answered panicked, what's the plan? What should I do? He's not gonna do anything. Is this all a joke, right?

" Will you commit a double suicide with me" he asked me tone with glee, I'm stuck why would he ask that I'm too shocked to answer what are you even menat to say to a question like that, "that's all I want. Someone that cares enough to die with me to join me in the afterlife. I don't want to be alone. Plus what if there is none I don't want to leave the one I love behind" he had started to elaborate.

" Ian, what drove you to this?" I asked, instantly regretting it.

"My husband, well my dead husband. He killed himself years ago. He wanted me to find someone that truly loved or cared about me, someone I deserved he didn't want to burden me anymore. How could I disrespect his wishes and go against them? Someone's life is something you can't get back once it's gone. Leave your life in someone else's hands isn't always the best but here and now I'll gladly die with you if you agree." He was on a rant though he gladly cut himself off," so what'll it be Samuel?"

It's a life or death situation isn't it if I say yes he won't really go through with it will he, but if I say no what will happen then, "n-no" I stuttered out what was that I didn't mean to oh no what's going to happen now. His face was quickly clouded with anger, betrayed, disappointed.

"Another no, how many will it take."

"Another no, Ian. Were there others,where are the others?" Now I have no idea where we are. It's pitch dark outside, at least 5 miles into an unknown forest. My phone is dead and even if it was working there's no service out here.

"In that case, how do you feel about becoming mushroom food?" He asked turning to grab something from the nightstand," if you don't struggle this won't be as painful."

" Ian please stop, no, you're not thinking straight right now why don't we go to bed and talk things through in the morning. Wait painful, you're not gonna kill me are you?" I'm scared he's joking this is all just some messed up joke Ian isn't a murderer, but even still I fall off the bed onto the wood floor from backing away.

There's another sound he's grabbing something from the floor. There's footsteps, my footsteps are loud and fast. Before I had an idea of what I was doing I was running out of the cabin bare foot. What now?

"Samuel" I heard Ian coo from inside the cabin. I could hear the grin in his voice followed by some chuckles.

Where do I go? It's dark. Where did we come from? I'm panicking. The tears have started, am I going to die here tonight on a trip with my fiance not to be found. I'm frozen in place. I could hear the sound of a metal bat dragging on the ground going over all the bits of gravel and grass.

"Ia-" as I turned trying to talk to him I was struck by the horrid sound that filled my ears.

The pain I felt in my head only came once I hit the ground, both cold and warm. All I feel is a horrible unbearable pain, I can't think of anything, I can't speak even if I wanted to. More movement I think I'm being dragged somewhere, thrown too.

"Goodbye Samuel, I was really hoping I wouldn't have to do this."

I think he had said something but I couldn't comprehend anything. I'm starting to lose consciousness, probably because of the blood I've lost. At least the pain will go away. My eyes fall shut, it's completely dark and the pain is still very much there, not that it means anything now.