#i will be drawing him again he is a single celled organism

[pempempemto]

ive been thinking about @boyyardee ‘s michael afton design for like forever what the fuck are you doing to my brain chemistry this is irreversible i am biting him biting him biting him biting him biting

[starryyskies]

Lil update in case y’all care ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) 

I’m moving from my shit apartment starting the beginning of august, and my current semester ends near august 13th. My next semester starts almost 2 weeks after (classes start on the 22nd but it’s good to get it started earlier since most classes open early).

Hopefully by then I’ll be moved out, feel more organized and less stressed, and manage my time a bit better.

Classes are going well despite being super fucking stressful, I’m at the very least passing for now lol

But as for drawing, besides that one doodle I finished and coloured, I haven’t been able to do anything at all. It really disappoints me because I see all this amazing art and my fomo (fear of missing out) gets so bad lol. But I am being responsible and doing my best (╥ᆺ╥；)

Thank you guys for your support and kindness and understanding ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)

So in case you’re curious my struggles currently read below lol

So, the place I work at, my store is a corporation and we’ve been basically getting babysat by managers from other stores who are also watching their own store, getting paid a shit amount for creating and maintaining not just the scheduling for both stores, but also managing any issues that arise. So we’re on our 4th manager now, and while he’s the sweetest and fucking raddest manager of all times, he is doing the bare minimum for our store. And trust me, I do NOT blame him. To be honest, he is getting paid salary for being a manager of his own store, and it’s like 56k a year or something which isn’t bad at all. But watching a completely different store?

75. Dollars. A WEEK?! That is LITERALLY a slap in the face. That is the CEO saying a big ass fuck you to its employees. So of course he’s doing the bare minimum. Coping and pasting parts of the schedule, he never comes into our store, and while he’s attentive when it comes to issues, he’s our only source of upper management support we have.

We have workers who have worked with the company for 3+ years, 8+ years, and 20 years. They know what they’re doing, but when I am running the shift by myself, I can’t rely on my coworkers to get back to me, because they are not obligated to.

So the schedule is pretty awful sometimes. Sometimes we’re over staffed when we could’ve used the help other times, sometimes we’re severely understaffed. Like for example, today was a shit show. We had 3 people during our busiest time. (I work at a coffee shop) and so we have one person on register who also takes care of the food and packs the deliveries, and then one person on the coffee bar is not enough to handle the amount of drinks they get, so I was basically running back and forth to support both positions while also making sure my coworkers got their breaks. Icing on the cake was when we realized it was way too hot inside the cafe and learned our AC is broken AGAIN! It was 84 degrees before I left work. That is miserable running around taking care of hot drinks and food.

This is something I deal with at least 2 times a week

While also doing school work full time, having a strict deadline to follow to submit assignments (thankfully it’s all online so I can be somewhat flexible)

And on top of all of that, I’m moving in 2 weeks, school finals will be going on by then, and life has been kicking my family in the ass.

My step dad, who I’ve know since I was 6-7, he’s been that second dad to me, I think of him as a hero. He unfortunately has been diagnosed with single cell lung cancer. It had spread to his ribs and femur. While he’s still fighting and going through aggressive treatment, I’m not sure what the outcome will be. He’s putting on a strong face, so I can’t tell how serious it is.

My grandfather is also in the hospital. He’s had a heart condition that requires him to wear an AED pacemaker in his chest, and recently it was used because he had a seizure. He’s not doing too well, and who knows what will happen.

Oh! And my older sister’s wedding is IN TWO MONTHS! I’m the damn maid of honor, and I do nottttt like the attention. She’s the kinda person who likes big fancy weddings but she’s doing her best financially to make it happen, though she also was promoted to manager for her store (we work for the same company) and going through that crazy long training is surly not fun lol.

But anyway, thanks for reading my rambles. Sometimes I feel like nobody really cares but I get reminded that there are people out there who are wondering how I am. So this is for you people

(⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)₊˚⊹ ᰔ

[toyybox]

Spiderwebs #41: Magnum Opus

Masterlist

content: lab whump, needles (blood draw), immortal whumpee

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

“I’m certain that, with a few more years of research, I could discover why your body doesn’t kill it off. If I figure that out—“ She didn't finish that thought. “But there’s no guarantee. That’s only if everything goes according to plan.”

“I’m sure it will,” he said.

They were in the laboratory again. He was sitting in her office chair, as he always did, and she brought a folding chair up from the kitchen. There were peaches for breakfast. Jackie mentioned that he wanted to eat them a few days ago. He was surprised that she remembered. It snowed again the night before, and the morning was less sunny than usual. Gray clouds painted the sky instead. He wondered if it would storm.

“I should write a paper about this,” she said suddenly. “I will write a paper. These notes are practically incoherent.”

"You can’t publish it, though, can you?”

“I can’t publish it. It would be nice if I could, but I would also have to explain how I met you.”

Yes, that little detail. “What are you going to name it?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I always get someone else to come up with the titles. I suppose we’ll need to name the organism, too. You should name it.”

“I don't have any ideas."

“Neither do I. We can think of one later. I’ll start writing soon. Though, I do want to ask you a few questions first.” Hence, Heather was holding her journal and a pen. “Have you ever experienced issues with your immune system?”

“No.”

“Do you recall anything abnormal about your birth? Anything at all? Even if it seems small, tell me. We’re grasping at straws here.”

“No, it was normal.” 

She wrote these findings down. “And I assume you never experienced any sort of… I don’t know, rare event? Nothing in your life that could have caused this?”

“Not really.”

“Then I presume it’s an innate condition, ever since you were born.” She set the journal and pen down on a table. “But you can’t be the only person with this organism. The species couldn’t possibly become this far developed in a single host. There must be other immortals out there, somewhere, whether they’re aware of it or not.”

"If you're right about the parasite thing, then I guess it’s possible. Maybe we’ll find someone like that."

“I wouldn’t mind having a larger control group. By the way, I did a complete blood count…” Her tone shifted to an air of professional curiosity, and Jackie recognized that she was about to lecture him about some new discovery she found. “On the blood samples from when you were starving. I noticed average levels of red blood cells and hemoglobin, but the platelet levels were slightly higher than normal. Platelets are there to—“

“Wait, I know this one. They clot blood.”

“Exactly.” She nodded. “They create clotting. But I barely saw any white blood cells. Even in healthy samples, oddly enough. There’s more organisms in your bloodstream instead. They take the job of killing infections, like I told you. I also noticed what seemed to be eggs in your veins.”

“Really? Eggs?” Though Jackie had mostly detached himself from all these biological miracles, he still felt some discomfort at this idea.

“It’s what’s keeping you alive, so I suppose it can’t be helped. There was an excessive number of organisms, actually. They reproduce faster when the host is unhealthy. I believe that’s what gave your blood that dark, viscous quality.”

“There’s really no way to get them out?”

“If you find one, let me know.” Out of the blue, she picked her journal up again, clicked her pen open. “Actually, I wanted to ask—have you ever donated blood before?”

“No.”

“Interesting.” She wrote this down. “Your blood is O positive. I tested it earlier. You could hypothetically transfer it to about seventy percent of the population. The organism doesn’t survive in foreign organic matter, so there’s no adverse effects. It would be worthwhile to test it in a living human body, though. My blood is B negative, unfortunately, so I haven’t been able to try it out.”

“And B negative doesn’t mix with the positive types, right? That’s why you can’t test it?”

“Right.”

He remembered that much from his scarce education, if nothing else. Jackie always felt a little lost when she spoke of such concepts. What a complete blood count was, he had no idea. He didn’t want to ask her and interrupt.

“It’s honestly absurd,” she continued. “It’s such an extreme case of specialization. As far as I’ve seen, at least. I still don’t know how it would react to dehydration…”

“I would rather not,” he interrupted. “If that’s possible.”

“No, it’s alright. I understand if you’re not up for it. I…” She closed the journal, gently. “I feel like these tests are too harsh, sometimes. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, but…”

"I'm okay. It's for science."

“That’s good to hear.” Her conflicted expression was gone at once. 

And he was okay. He had been allowed everything he could ever want… well, almost everything, with some heavy restrictions, but he could settle for that. There wasn't any reason to rock the boat. It had been a peaceful few weeks, all things considered.

Heather glanced at her watch. "Would you look at that? You've been here for an hour, and you're still alive. It appears that my experiment is going very well."

Jackie was, in fact, currently hooked up to a blood bag in Heather’s laboratory. A needle inserted into his arm drained his blood through a clear, thin tube. The sight of so much of his own blood would have made him nauseous, once, but this rich scarlet was now a familiar color. It was a more sanitary method of bloodshed, at least, and relatively painless. 

So far, he had filled up about nine bags. Jackie was not a scientist, but he was fairly certain that wasn’t a normal amount of blood to extract. The bags were arranged on the table, weighed down by the gravity of all that heavy red liquid, entire pints of it sagging at the seams. Heather set about removing the tenth one.

“How many liters is that, doc?” He asked.

“About five.” She slid the needle out of his arm, before applying a band-aid over the gap left behind. “Most people would have died by now.”

He watched her unhook the bag from its thin steel stand. “What are you going to do with all that blood?”

“It’s too complicated to explain.” She forced a juice box into his hand. “Drink that. Your blood sugar must be through the floor. Are you feeling lightheaded?”

“A little.”

She forced a package of biscuits into his other hand. “Nauseous?”

“No.” He regarded the biscuits with suspicion. “I’m not hungry.”

“Keep it, at least. Eat when you feel up to it.” She placed the tenth blood bag onto the table. “You know, you don’t have much of an appetite lately.”

“I guess.” Hunger was a point of contention. But he was starting to feel thirsty, oddly enough. He stabbed the plastic straw through the juice box. 

“Yes, ever since…” She paused. But she carried on without a second thought, as if she had never mentioned it at all. “I do wonder where all this blood is coming from.”

Now that his arm wasn’t attached to the needle, he could move it freely. He shook his wrist out for a few seconds. “Hey, where’d you learn all this stuff, anyway? Harvard?”

He said it as a joke, but she replied, “Harvard? Don’t insult me like that. I studied somewhere reputable, thank you.” 

“Somewhere reputable.” He wasn’t sure what that would even entail. Nicer jars for their organ collections, maybe. “What did you get? A PhD?”

“Yes, a doctorate. Did you study anywhere?”

“Nowhere, really. I graduated high school, but I didn’t do anything after that. I just started working.” 

He had never seen his education as a priority. When the police took him in... anyway, they had him in and out of the hospital, then sent him to a couple different homes, and that didn't leave any time for him to care about school. He wanted to study language, if he could, but he didn't think that was possible anymore.

Besides, it was expensive. He could barely scrape together the cash for rent. Getting work as a waiter had been incredibly lucky, in hindsight.

“So you didn't receive further education,” she said. “I assumed as much.”

“You assumed right. I’m not that smart.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. I’ve taught you a few things.” She leaned back in her chair. “Natural talent doesn’t count for anything, you know. There’s a brilliant mind born every day that goes to waste. That’s not enough to get you anywhere. It’s about perseverance and discipline, in the end.”

And a lot of money, he thought tartly. That wasn't Heather's fault, though, and she really was good at what she did. He decided to just let her talk. She could be quite talkative, actually, once she got started.

"I can tell you’re irritated,” Heather said.

“I’m not,” he said. “Continue, please.”

“You don’t have to lie. It's obvious. You should know I appreciate your presence. Even if I don’t express it very well.”

“Yeah, you don’t.”

“I don’t. I can be… harsh. But I meant it. I just can’t say it like you do. I’m terrible at that.”

That was true, despite all her other talents.

“You're my crowning jewel,” she said. “My—my magnum opus, even. But you’re also my friend. You’re the only person I care about.” 

“I know that.”

And he couldn’t hold grudges, when she spoke that way. It was all so stilted, so artlessly sincere. For once, the words were slow and careful, purely meant for him. He had already forgotten the rest of their conversation.

She fell silent. It seemed as though she had been distracted by something.

He looked up at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you ever want to leave?” she asked.

"Do I have a choice?"

“No.” She searched his expression intently. "You don't."

He stared back with the same intensity. "Then stop asking me stupid questions."

She didn’t move away, and for a moment she was completely still. Her gaze lingered, as dark as night, burning like distant fires. Maybe that was the wrong thing to say. 

It didn’t matter. She knew he wasn’t going anywhere. Perhaps that was for the best. His circumstances had always been difficult, but he used the cards he was given the best he could. He would be happier this way. Playing his role until the bitter end.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Taglist:

@theelvishcowgirl @lthrboy @whumpy-wyrms

@yassifiedinformation @creppersfunpalooza

@vidawhump @dont-look-me-in-the-eye

[afreakingdork]

Writing Request: OC x Donnie and 👅

Let's keep this request train rolling! This time we got @grumpytheunicorn and her OC, Jun, along with Donnie getting his soul sucked out.

From now until the poll closes if you can prove to me that you voted hassan/mikey in this poll then I will write any short 100-400 word request like below or draw you a doodle of your choosing!

ᴰᶦˢᶜˡᵃᶦᵐᵉʳ: ᴵ ᵃᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶦⁿ ᵃⁿʸʷᵃʸ ᵃˢˢᵒᶜᶦᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵒʳ ᵉⁿᵈᵒʳˢᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒ��ᵖᵉᵗᶦᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᵒʳ ᶦᵗˢ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉˢᵗᵃⁿᵗˢ.

Minors DNI, we got 🍋 below:

And she was between his legs.

He knew she would be, but she was really there.

Through the fiery blush on his face from when he accepted her not so timid request, Donnie wasn't sure where the time had gone. They kissed, he was sure of that much as that unmistakable sweet taste of her still lingered on his lips, but he had no idea when his pants has come off. He was now indelicately sat with his bare thighs on the couch with the love of his life staring up at him with those huge brown eyes and a smile that transcended time and space itself with how lewd it was.

He was no stranger to her hunger, but right now she was positively starving in a way that made him fear he would be left a eunuch.

No, the moment that tongue of hers unfurled, he dropped in exact time.

That incredible appendage haunted him. Not in any negative sense, but it was the stuff of his very dreams. She was the realized version of things he hadn't known he wanted since puberty struck him down with a bondage bat. Meeting her shifted his very type and she somehow also fit the mold of his deepest desires before he even knew such a thing was possible.

Her tongue was endless feeding now and testing the airspace around his cock like a prehensile organ.

It was, to a point, and she had certainly made use of it. She used it without second thought to snap books down from shelves and he was left wondering how much of it could be used to tie him up. She could swallow him down in one gulp as he had seen her do with many a quick snacks while on the run and he'd happily run through the luxuriously soft folds of her tummy. He'd wind through and around her to sustain her with whatever nutrients she needed and, oh, she was testing his glans.

With the bulbed tip of her tongue, she swiped curious at his taste and the embarrassing leaking of pre that was already dribbling there. He usually had better faith in his ability to last, but that too was something she swept away from him. With her natural skill and talent for simply being her, she was going to make him cum fast and all he was left to do was hope it was long enough that she found enjoyment out of it.

He met her eye to check again and she was positively euphoric.

Hearts could have exploded in those dark, liquid amber orbs and he would believe it was part of her physiology. She appeared to be slurping down some ancient taste made for her buds and it just so happened to be attached to his body.

Then her tongue spun. Like the coil of a bobbin, his foot tapped the pedal as the pink membrane went round and round. It circled and tasted every crevice and crease of his ridged cock and continued to spiral still. It engulfed him, turning the purple hues into something wholly hers to devour and she shot him one last look that he could only think of as a warning show.

In a single drop of her head, she took his straight down her throat.

Even on his best days he tried to get his tongue back there, but never could.

Now she was swallow inches of him with nary a gag in sight.

She came up all drool and the dripping heat threatened him right there.

He'd spray her face full of cum so thick it would get her pregnant through osmosis alone. It would travel through her poisonous skin and deep down into her veins. The circulatory system would take his swimmers on a fast pipeline and further. They would move beyond science, unaffected by her white blood cells because this was her staked claim and by miracle it would make it to her womb and eggs.

She descended again and her tongue bounced like a spring.

It was equal and opposite some basal shredded thought begged him to understand since he seemingly kept forgetting to hear the many, many warning signs that were right in front of him.

She sucked.

She sucked so hard she might as well have been an industrial vacuum.

She sucked so hard so scooped back up some of her own tongue and must have swallowed it.

She sucked so hard, he swore he felt his balls, an internal structure with no mechanism to release, get jostled in the process.

Eunuch was right.

He wasn't going to leave this transaction with a cock.

He never thought he'd be castrated like this.

He always thought it would be for something more banal.

For never fixing his posture.

For always sneaking a few smokes.

For forgetting his hear medication when he was on a role.

No, she was simply going to suck his cock straight off his body and that would nourish her soul. It would feed that starvation she always exhibited and she would finally be at peace. He liked that for her, he thought somewhere in the clouds. She deserved that. He always thought she deserved that. He wanted nothing, but the best for her.

While he was already skirting the stratosphere, the second suck summoned his cum.

He saw it outside his body through x-ray vision without the use of his goggles.

It traveled from the shriveled raisins that were once his balls and through heavy globules up the track of his cock. It was an agonizing queue of a line moving pleasantly fast and it disappeared into her.

Those sperm had no hope of anything.

She gulped them straight down and with that third suck, he passed out.

So enlightenment was purgatory.

He had always wondered what true peace was.

It was his.

It was Jun.

Through time and space though, his soulmate reached him.

She sighed so happy like she had chugged an icy beverage on a nice day and was refreshed on a fundamental level.

"That was... amazing..." She was as jubilant as her name implied. "Think you could..." That joy seeped with dark crawling ichor. "... go again?"

Then to her horror, his new emotion of sorrow, and her terror, she realized he was no longer of this Earth and sought to save him.

She would.

He just needed a minute.

[see-arcane]

Yes Hirano's super weird with the "vampirism happens only with virgins" rule when it's decidedly not a thing in Dracula's vampirism lore. (Though not as weird as what he did to Mina, who deserves to crawl back to life and murder everyone in the whole manga for it)

True on both points.

Unfortunately, you've activated a mental trap card and now I'm about to explode into a barely-related tangent. Please stand by for hazy Hellsing spoilers to anyone who wants to look away.

The saddest thing about Hellsing is that it's one of the least headache-inducing Dracula-adjacent pieces of media I can think of.

Even with how Hirano draws Seras Victoria and That Scene with Rip Van Winkle. Even with his ~creative~ take on Vlad the Impaler. Even with what he retroactively does to Mina's remains. Even with Abraham van Helsing once again getting shoved through the No Really Honest for Real He was a Super Cool Occult Magic Man who was Definitely Solely Responsible for Taking Dracula Down!!1! filter (with Jonathan and Mina getting a whole single panel together, ooh, aah). Even with the nitpick of turning Helsing into Hellsing just because of the Edgy+ factor.

Even with all of that, I can still genuinely say I enjoy it.

First, because Alucard and company are there to kill Nazis and generally monstrous people who signed up to get superpowers to be even bigger monsters. I love seeing them get supernaturally woodchipper'd. Never disappoints.

Second, because Alucard/Dracula is--and this is vital--still a bastard. One who, via the lens of how the Hel(l)sing family did their murky magical experiments on him, got juiced up into the Mega Shounen Horror Ultrabadass version of himself...and promptly got put on a magic leash so that he could only bare his teeth at the command of his human Hel(l)sing master. And for decades, pre-Integra, he was left to wither and rot in a windowless cell. Waiting to be dusted off.

It's a unique psychological place to force the asshole into. It doesn't make him a good guy, but I'd say it makes him a better character. One who pushes the limits of how much of a monster he can be without breaking the tethers on him and his power. Even when the inevitable Count Fuckula ooh~ sexy sexypire~ glaze gets applied with his interactions with Integra, it's still shown how fucking aggravating and uninvited he is with it. How much he uses it as just another nettle. Just as he once used an admittedly classier/classic gothic predatory menace on Jonathan, Lucy, and Mina in the novel.

When the big climax comes and he gets to flex all of his bloated powers, he's reached an internal growth point where he, at the very least, takes a moment to acknowledge Integra and Seras as worthy of respect rather than just irritating or deriding them respectively.

As an aside, despite her obvious Fanservice Girl position, I do have to grudgingly give Hirano points for how he portrays Seras Victoria's position with Alucard. This is the first (and I think only!) time I've ever seen a Dracula turn some voluptuous babe and then...not make advances on her. Before or after. He turned her to save her life after shooting through her to kill the vampire at her back. If anything, this is the first time we see any form of Dracula take a non-sexual, strangely paternal approach to the assumed vampire bride of a story.

And then there's the matter of Alexander Anderson. He and the Iscariot organization are absolutely bristling with what-the-fuckery and religion-aesthetic weirdness I don't have the skill to untangle. But the set up between Anderson and Alucard at the climax by itself is an interesting thing for how it shows a kind of logical (by manga standards) extreme of Dracula looking peaceful in the novel's climax; how he died and turned to dust with serenity. He welcomed it.

Alucard/Dracula, for all his glee at being a sadistic overpowered monster, welcomes Anderson's attempt to kill him while the man is still human. He's eager to be slain by a righteous mortal hand--perhaps he always had been since that Transylvanian sunset when he was left paralyzed, but not put down. Just turned into an experiment and an attack dog for the century and change to come. And when Anderson resorts to inhumanity, to becoming a horror like him rather than remaining the human hero who rightfully slays the monster, it makes him livid. Heartbroken.

There's just a lot to pick apart with this version of Dracula that I find worth sitting through the nonsense for. He isn't watered down into a cartoon. He isn't turned into a wink-at-the-camera Casanova. He isn't ~doing it all for love~. He's still fucking Dracula. But a Dracula who's been dragged by the hair through an intriguing rock tumbler of a history and forced to play with a cast of characters that makes me want to see what happens next rather than roll my eyes at yet another cookie cutter DRACULA WAS SO AWESOME-COOL AND THE REAL ANTIHERO ALL ALONG AND ALL THE GIRLS WANTED HIM AND THE HUMAN HEROES WERE ACTUALLY ALL LAME OR SECRETLY EVIL narrative.

It's a bloodstained bullet-riddled eldritch undead fever dream.

All that and it has a Dracula who eats Nazis.

I'll take that shit and Crispin Freeman's velvet voice acting in a heartbeat over 90% of Dracula media that's been squatted out over the past 126 years.

[davidhatter]

Stray Cat || Hatfish

baenxietydad​:

`

@davidhatter​

“No, Koreans are just obsessed with English music and English means American if you’re from most of – well, at least East Asia. You kinda fell off after the World Wars in terms of influence..” Mu-yeol said, smirking a little because it was always fun to him to break the news to an English person. Even an English person he quite liked. “Well, and for once you’re not the ones who split up and are occupying my country–” awkward neo-colonial finger guns “– that’s your little American friends with all the influence in Korea. So of course we think English = Americans. Even the foreign English teachers I was friends with in Seoul were all Americans and Canadians, I didn’t know a single English person on a personal level until coming here. And eventually speaking English well meant that jobs would overlook me being a fairy and hire me, so I kept learning.”

He gave the sauce another stir, then sighed thoughtfully and turned his head to make brief eye contact with Hatter.

“No, I actually– I’m not one of those immigrants that ever dreamed of going to the West. I don’t think nearly as many of us are as, like, movies about immigrants would make you believe. The factors that push us away from home are typically stronger than the things that would pull us to somewhere else. I never wanted to leave Korea, I loved – love – Korea. Despite the legal and social challenges of being a fairy there, I was committed to the indigenous fairy rights movement. So-yeon and I were learning from more experienced activists and community organizers at the time she –”

He cut himself off and chewed on his inner cheek, debating if…oh, well, if they were friends he’d have to depress him eventually. He just wasn’t sure if he wanted to do it right now.

“Things are getting better there. They were getting better before I left. But after my son’s mother, uh, after what happened–” there, he’d phrase it that way. Hatter had two brain cells, he could probably draw conclusions from what was unsaid. “– I finally understood things weren’t changing fast enough to justify letting my son grow up there. I couldn’t fix Korea, but I could give him a fair shot at life somewhere else. So. Mhm.”

He nodded, as if to say ‘that’s that’, and smiled much too brightly for what he’d just said.

@baenxietydad​

Again, Hatter found himself vaguely uncomfortable with comments like those because, though it probably wasn’t meant to sound like this, it always seemed like Mr. Bae was saying it like Hatter was the one in the palace. Or had some role to blame for the past that had occurred. Or any role at all as far as their government went.

This discomfort came moreso from a place of self consciousness, though. It made him feel all the more stupid. So much of his life had been confined to the town, to Main Street, to the shoppe itself. Hatter stayed up to date with the basics of what was going on with the world, but nothing like Mr. Bae seemed to. Hatter’s life was so pinpoint and small in comparison, his field of vision confined to the borders of Enchantra.

As he continued to listen, hands occupied by whipping his ingredients together in the bowl, he did notice the pause. The hesitation. It had happened before, around the subject of his son’s mother and who Hatter presumed was Mr. Bae’s wife. It felt like something was being stepped around and there were a number of reasons why that could have been. None of which Hatter was going to presume.

But he also wasn’t going to outright ask either. The subject may have been heavy, so much so that Mr. Bae didn’t want to pull on it or expect Hatter to help do so. Even though he would, he didn’t want to force anyone’s hand.

“So...,” he started, unsure of where he was going. “...do you have any interest in traveling?”

[imaginativeamateur]

Hey! Congrats on 200 followers! 🎊 you totally deserve it!! I was wondering if you could do a kakashi x fem!reader with 6 in which the reader is a med ninja and are overworking! THANK YOU!!!

[Kakashi Hatake X Reader] A Medic's Greatest Fear

|200 Followers Event|

Prompt: 6 — "You’re not coming home tonight?"

Pairing: Kakashi Hatake x fem!Reader

Note: Hello, I'm back after quite a few days being so inactive :DD Thanks for your request, love. I legit spent so much time... changing the plot :DD This version is very different from the first one that I wrote lol. It's a bit angsty but ends with a fluff note, though. Hope you'll enjoy!

You have been busying yourself with operation after operation. You were not in a good mood recently after you got into a fight with Kakashi, and he then left for a mission. Time fleeted, and the next time you glanced at the clock, it was already eight in the evening. Just when you were packing up to leave the hospital at the end of your shift, a nurse rushed to your office with a bewildered expression on her face.

“Y/N-san,” she stopped to catch a breath, “there are three injured Shinobi.”

“ANBU?” You questioned, immediately dropping your tote to the desk.

“It’s… you should go see for yourself,” she stammered out. There was hesitation in her voice as she spoke, and you felt uneasiness seeping into the pit of your stomach.

You rushed to the reception and spotted a sight that you never wanted to see. Your heart throbbed as the hospital staff rolled a silver-haired onto a stretcher and pushed him into the operation unit. You lost the balance on your feet, if it was not for the nurse to help you stabilize your stance, you would have fallen onto the ground. There was only one person that you could recall having the very hair color in the whole Konoha—Kakashi Hatake.

“What happened?” Your voice was hoarse as you tumbled to the reception table.

“They were ambushed,” the staff stated with a monotone and started to register their information on the computer, “Hatake’s injuries, though, are more serious.”

“Who are on call right now?”

The woman at the desk took a glance at you, quietly signaling you to calm down before she continued to speak, “One surgeon and one assistant as for Hatake. Two Medics are tending the other three.”

Your stomach flipped, “I’m going in with them.”

You spared not even a second after you gave her a verbal note to follow their trail. You bit down on your lips hard enough to draw blood. Seeing your love edging on the thin line between life and death brought tears to your eyes. You greatly regretted the venomous words you exchanged with him before Kakashi left for his mission. You did not mean them to the slightest degree, you did not mean to tell him to stop interfering with your business, you did not mean to call him intrusive and that you hated him for being like that. The silver-haired stopped quarreling almost immediately after you lashed out and closed the door behind his back. You could clearly visualize the distress and sorrow wavering in his eyes when he left, so clearly that it stabbed you in the heart. If only you could go back to that very day…

For the whole duration of the operation, you focused every single cell of your body on the task, straining every muscle to perform meticulous work. But you did not dare to look up at his face. A cursory glance already enabled you to see how pale his skin was. The thin layer of sweat that coated his forehead shook you to the core that you had to instantly glance away. Kakashi was in pain, and you knew that better than anyone, being the person invading his system with your own chakra to heal the damaged organs. The wounds littered across his body were deep cuts, and you winced as your palms moved across his battered body.

At last, it was finally over and he was now bandaged in white cloth, sleeping soundly on the bed. Fearing that the stiff hospital bed would tire his back, you went ahead and took off your sweater and laid an extra layer for him to lie on, leaving you in your thin blouse. It was the end of autumn in Konoha and nights were cooler, but you paid no mind to the skin of your forearms prickling with goosebumps when you moved to close the window. All of your attention was now focused on the resting Shinobi, watching his chest rising and falling with every breath, his brows forming the slightest pinch in his sleep.

You drifted your gaze farther away, thinking of what to say once he would be up. Just then, you head Kakashi mumble, “You’re not coming home tonight?”

You quickly directed your eyes back to check on him, but the silver-haired was still snoring softly under the blanket—he worried about you even when he just merely got his life back from the hands of Hades. And it made you even more upset with yourself. You were totally at fault. He was only concerned about you and your health when you were working days straight without rest at the hospital. He respected your work but was more or less disagreed with how careless you were with your own wellbeing.

With great attention, you reached both hands out toward him and glided your fingers across his cheeks, blinking furiously to prevent tears from strolling down your face. You gently placed a kiss on the shallow crease between his brows as though you were trying to alleviate the pain that he was enduring, “I’m sorry, Kashi. I’m sorry.”

You laid your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as if it was an assurance that he was cradling you to bed like every night. Shuddering, you shifted closer to his body to shield yourself away from the blows that managed to seep through the crack between the door and the freezing tiles. Nights at the hospital were always cold with you drifting in and out of sleep in between calls to duty. But tonight was different when he was with you, you felt at peace.

The morning came and Kakashi was wide awake before the first rays even shone through the glass window. But he did not move a muscle, letting you splay your hands across his chest and hug him with all you might. A frown sat on his lips when he noticed the eyebags underneath your heavily closed lids. Your breathing was ragged as your lips opened and sealed several times, mouthing broken sobs of his name. Kakashi slightly shook your shoulders and you shot up from your position, eyes wide after pulling yourself out of the terrifying nightmare.

“Kakashi,” you burst out and jumped out of the wooden chair, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Kakashi!”

“I’m alright, Y/N,” he embraced you and swayed your bodies back and forth, “I’m here.”

After a while, you pulled away, timidly gazing at your hands like a child at fault, “I’m sorry for the stupid argument. I was wrong for saying such things. I promise not to overwork myself again.”

“I’m sorry too, love,” he stroked your hair, “I shouldn’t raise my voice at you. You know I love you, right? That’s why I didn’t want to see you harming yourself in the first place. It’s necessary to take a break when you’re tired. And just know that I’m always here for you.”

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

Taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu @thenightfallingstar @iam-gaaras-loveintrest @animepickle7 @rinnegankakashi @tirzamisu

[five-rivers]

Green Sky Highway

Phic Phight Phic for @deuynndoodles

.

The Fenton Ecto Cell Bettery (aka the Better Battery) was designed to draw power from not only an internal, pre-charged store of ectoplasm, but also from ambient, atmospheric ectoplasm.  This meant that it would never run out of juice so long as it was in the Ghost Zone.  The Specter Speeder was designed to travel in the Ghost Zone.  Thus, the Betteries were the perfect power source for it.  In theory.  

In practice… Well, that just wasn’t working out, and Maddie didn’t know why.  She gripped the underside of the dash and tried to push herself deeper beneath it to get a better view of the machinery.  

“Maddie?  You see anything?” asked Jack, who couldn’t fit under the dash.  He’d been inspecting as much of the engine as he could from the inside, which wasn’t much.  The Speeder wasn’t designed to be serviced while free-floating in the Ghost Zone.  

Which, now that she thought of it, was a serious oversight.  

“Everything looks fine,” said Maddie.  “Except that it doesn’t have any power.  Nothing’s lighting up, but all the connections look good. You?”

“I can’t get anything to work.  Anything.  It’s like… we’re in some kind of technological dead zone.  But that doesn’t make sense.”

Maddie pulled herself out to see Jack vigorously scratching his head and shedding dandruff everywhere.  “Ghosts do tend to disrupt technology.”

“But we fixed that.  We designed all our weapons to work with that.”

“We know there are things we don’t know,” said Maddie, “and it’s always good to find new things!  Though not pleasant to find them out like this…”  They should really test their inventions more, honestly.  

But it had been over a year of testing since they opened the portal.  They had to jump in at some point, didn’t they?  That was the whole point of the portal.  

She sighed.  “Well, we didn’t have a lot of forward momentum when the portal cut out.”  She looked out the window.  “We could see if we can get out and engage our jetpacks.”

“Uh, about that,” said Jack.  He swung open the door to the jetpack cabinet.  The empty jetpack cabinet.  “I may have forgotten to put them back after refueling them.”

“Jack…”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Maddie massaged the bridge of her nose with her mostly-clean knuckles.  This was a repeat of the handle inside the weapons vault.  At least he wasn’t pushing the blame for it back onto Danny or Jazz.  That would definitely have started a fight.  

On the other hand, there really wasn’t any guarantee the jetpacks would even still be functional, so maybe it was for the best. For certain values of best.  

She groaned.  

There was a knocking sound.  “Is that coming from the engine?” Maddie asked.  

“No…” said Jack, slowly.  “I think it came from the door…”

They both turned to stare.  Something moved outside it.  They shifted to get a better view out the window.  

Phantom was out there, tapping on the door with a ten-foot pole.  

“That little unnatural abomination,” cursed Jack under his breath.  “He’s going to scratch the paint!”

Phantom apparently saw them and waved.  “Hey!” he shouted, just loud enough to be heard through the walls of the Speeder.  “Do you guys need a lift?”

Jack and Maddie turned to each other.  

“How did he know we were here?”

“I don’t know,” said Jack.  “Do you think he followed us?”

“It wouldn’t be difficult, but I’m surprised he didn’t show up on our detectors.”

“He does seem to have the ability to drop off of them.”

“True,” said Maddie.  “So, how do we handle this?  Fenton bat?”

“I don’t know, Mads.  He might be, uh, sincere?  That time with the ectofiltrator he did help me.”

“That’s one, single, datapoint.  He’s a been a menace every other time we’ve encountered him.”

“I don’t know that we have much other choice,” said Jack, nodding towards the dead engines and the empty jetpack cabinet.

Maddie huffed out a sigh, then looked back at Phantom, who waved again.  

“Fine.  We still have to decide how to deal with him while we’re cooperating with him.  Or if he decides to show his true colors.”

“Good idea.”

.

Danny knew this had been a terrible, terrible idea the moment his parents opened the door to the Speeder armed to the teeth.  Why did they always feel the need to do that? None of the weapons, with the possible exceptions of the Fenton Bat and the Fenton Crowbar could even work here.

How his parents had, on their first jaunt into the Ghost Zone, managed to run smack into the Time Locked Lands was beyond him. They had to go to the one place in the Ghost Zone that the Speeder wouldn’t work and after coating the Speeder with some kind of anti-ghost spray that Danny absolutely refused to touch again.  Ever. Especially in ghost form.  Except with a ten-foot pole.

(If they’d left the spray off, he could have just pushed the Speeder back out of the Time Locked Lands.  But, no, they had to make everything as difficult and painful as possible.)

“I am not carrying all that,” said Danny, flatly.

(Especially because it would all turn back on once they left the Time Lost Lands, and if there wasn’t a Specter Deflector under all that, he’d eat his own belt.)

“Then we aren’t going anywhere with you!” proclaimed Maddie.  

“You’re stranded in the middle of the Ghost Zone. I don’t think you have a choice.”

“We do!”

“I could literally just fly over there and snatch you right now.  Plus, again, stranded.  Do you even have any food in there?”

“Of course we do!” said Maddie.  “We aren’t incompetent.”

Jack looked guilty.  Danny decided not to bring it up.

“Okay, but still, you’re going to run out eventually, and then you’ll still be floating in the Ghost Zone with no way to get out.  You aren’t going to get another friendly ghost coming by.”

“I’ve never seen a friendly ghost to begin with!”

“Maddie…”

“I can just leave, you know,” said Danny, planting his hands on his hips and bluffing for all he was worth.  He was not leaving his parents here to be used as hostages or who knew what else.  

Hopefully, they wouldn’t call the bluff.  They shouldn’t.  No sane, reasonable person would.  He was their only way out of this mess.  On the other hand, his parents had never been completely sane, reasonable people.  

Danny thought his odds were about fifty-fifty.  Which meant he could hope.  

Jack and Maddie had an intense, whispered conversation. This, thankfully, lead to them divesting themselves of most of their visible weaponry.  Which meant that they still had more guns on them than most professional soldiers during a firefight.  

Well, it was better than he’d expected.  But it was still too many.  

“Take the Specter Deflectors off,” he said.  “What do you think will happen if I try to carry you and you have those on.”

There was muttering.  

“Come on, come on,” said Danny, snapping his fingers. Which really shouldn’t work through his gloves but did anyway.  

Sometimes ghost nonsense was good for making lasers fly from your hands, and sometimes it was good for tiny aesthetic breaks in physics. It was a grab bag, really.  

“Alright,” said Danny.  “I’m going to fly over and pick you up.  Don’t hit me.”

Oh, jeez, he was not looking forward to carrying them all the way over to the portal.  Sure, he could bench press a school bus, but there was a difference between holding up a school bus for a minute and carrying two people who hated his guts a mile through enemy territory while flying slowly enough not to give them windburn.  

Sure, it’d probably only take a few minutes, even then, but those would be the longest few minutes in his entire life.  Not counting his actual death.  

.

Being carried by Phantom had to be the single worst experience in Jack’s entire life.  

It wasn’t the speed or the lack of control – he loved carnival rides – or the height – Jack couldn’t tell you how many buildings he’d jumped off in pursuit of ghosts – or even the fact that Phantom was a sinister specter, and ectoplasmic emanation, a putrid piece of protoplasm – he’d been carried by ghosts before, usually ones who were a lot more upfront about wanting to kill him.  

Actually, Jack didn’t know why he didn’t like it. He just didn’t.  

Maybe it was just how uncomfortable it was?  But Jack did way more uncomfortable things. Like interacting with his sister-in-law. Brr.  

Maybe it was the lurking feeling behind every interaction he ever had with Phantom that there was something he just wasn’t seeing, some hidden truth that would make everything about Phantom, every contradiction, every confusion, make sense.

Nah, that couldn’t be it.  Maddie would have figured it out by now.  That’s why they made such a great team.  He noticed the things she didn’t, and she noticed the things he didn’t.  

“You’re going the wrong way,” snapped Maddie.  

Just like that!

Wait.  That was a really bad thing.

“I’m not going the wrong way,” snapped Phantom.  “I’m avoiding Walker’s prison.  I don’t know how he didn’t catch you on your way out, but I’m not eager to be thrown in jail for a thousand years.”

“Ghosts have jail?” asked Jack surprised.  

“Depends where you are,” said Phantom.  “Walker isn’t really a sheriff, though.  There’s no government behind him and he just makes up rules randomly so he can lock up anybody he doesn’t like.”

“Like you,” observed Jack.  

“Why doesn’t it surprise me that you’re even wanted by whatever passes for the law here?”

“First, rude.  Secondly, there are realms in here that are just as organized and civilized as any country on Earth.  Just because you opened your portal into the equivalent of post-apocalyptic Detroit doesn’t mean it’s all like this.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” said Maddie.  

“I could arrange that, you know,” said Phantom, stilling.

Jack laughed nervously.  “Maybe another time?”  The ghost would do what it would do, but they didn’t need to encourage him to bring them even deeper into the Ghost Zone.  They were currently banking on Phantom’s obsession with heroics to get them home, but if they changed the equation…  Yeah, Jack didn’t want to deal with the consequences of that.  

Ghosts were like computers that ran only one program. One homicidal, destructive program.

It was like that thought experiment about an AI whose job was to maximize the number of paperclips.  It’d just keep on making more and more paperclips until nothing was left.  Which was why they had to be stopped.  

Easier said than done, as Jack and Maddie had learned.

“You don’t have to be so freaked out,” muttered Phantom. “It isn’t like I’m going to kidnap you or anything.”  He pretended to sigh.  

What was the point of that?  He had to know that Jack and Maddie wouldn’t fall for his tricks. Actually, come to think of it, he was miming breathing, too, and had been the whole time.  

Maybe that’s why Jack was so uncomfortable.  The constant undercurrent of deception.  

Hmmm… something to think on.  

“What’s that?” asked Maddie, pointing.  

“Uh,” said Phantom, who did a double take.  

Ooh, that wasn’t reassuring.  

.

Danny clenched his teeth, his parents’ reactions to him weren’t reassuring, and even less reassuring was the way Pariah’s Keep had moved from its usual creepy location and to this new creepy location. Not that there were any non-creepy locations in the Ghost Zone.  It was part of the place’s charm.  

No, really.  Some part of Danny craved the creepiness.  He was half-ghost, after all.  

(Even if his idea of creepiness was, according to his friends, sort of lame.)

But back to the main point.  The keep really, really shouldn’t be here.  And it was creeping him out.  

It should be okay to just… fly past it, though, right? Just being in its airspace in the past hadn’t done anything bad.  So, flying by with his parents in tow shouldn’t do anything either.  Right?

Danny put on more speed, just in case.  This coincided with a bunch of large ghost ravens (or were they crows?) dive bombing them and forcing him to land to defend himself and parents.  The only land around being the rim of the island that supported the keep.

He knew something like this would happen. Maybe not exactly this, but he just knew he’d be attacked and everything would devolve into nonsense, and—

Huh.  The birds weren’t attacking him, just his parents.  Oh, these were racist (mortalist?) birds.  Gross.  Trust Pariah Dark to have bigoted birds.  He called up a shield to protect his parents.  Whereupon they shot him in the back, shouting about how he betrayed them to the birds, because why not?  

Why was his life like this?

He pushed himself up off the ground.  Starbursts twinkled behind his eyes.  Neither his parents nor the crows were in sight.  The crows could have gone anywhere.  His parents on the other hand…

There was only one place they could have gone.  

Well.  At least none of the nonsentient traps would work on them, seeing as they were humans. What were the odds that they’d run into one of the sentient defenders?

Well… considering the ravens?

Yeah.  That’d be about one hundred percent.

.

“Maddie, I don’t know about this…” said Jack, examining the tall, vaulted ceiling.  

“We had to get away from Phantom.  This was the only way to go.”

“But he came here for a reason, Mads,” whispered Jack, tip-toing.

“Yeah, this is definitely a trap.  But what can we do?”

“Jack?  Maddie? This is not a place you want to wander around in! Oh, holy—” There was a loud thump.  

Maddie grabbed Jack’s hand and pulled him forward. “We have to get away from him.”

“Come on!  This is a floating island!  I’m your only way off!  Why are you like this?”

“He has a point,” said Jack.  

Maddie stopped.  “I guess he does.”

“This is literally the worst place you could have picked to run away!”  A sound like a very large door opening and closing reached their ears.  “This is Pariah Dark’s place!  Where did you even go?”

“Mads?”

“Yeah?”

“Who’s Pariah Dark?”

“I think that was the name of the ghost that sucked the town into the Ghost Zone a few months ago.”

“Please, guys!  I’m trying to help you here!  This place is ultra-dangerous!  You could accidentally – yikes! – wake up Pariah Dark.”  

“Maybe we should…”

“Yeah,” said Maddie, “maybe we should.”

“Phantom!” called Jack.  “Phantom!  We’re over—” The floor opened up underneath them and they fell into the dark.  

.

Maddie woke to a dark room, tied to a chair.  She noticed the faintly glowing ghost in front of her and jolted backwards.

The ghost wore a set of painted and engraved plate armor, a pair of lavender-white eyes glowing from behind the slats of its visor.  A knight, of sorts, Maddie supposed.  

“You…” droned the ghost in a painfully stereotypical ghostly moan.  “Enemies of the king… why have you come here?”

“Huh?”

That was Jack’s voice.  He was tied behind her, apparently.  

“We don’t have anything to say to you,” snapped Maddie.

“Uh,” said Jack.  Something twisted behind Maddie.  “Are you a friend of Phantom?”

“A friend?  A friend?”

“I’m going to take that as a no,” muttered Maddie.  

The door of the room flew off its hinges.  “Fright Knight!” shouted Phantom, pointing a glowing finger.  “Wait, you aren’t Fright Knight.  Who are you, and what do you want with my- With, uh, the Fenton ghost hunters?  Who I don’t know very well at all. Promise.”

“What,” said the ghost.  

“What,” said Maddie.  

“What,” said Jack.  

“Okay, forget everything I just said.”  He gestured at the ghost.  “Who are you?”

“My name is Paladin, my liege.”

“Okay, okay, cool, cool.  I- Wait, what?  What did you call me?”

“My liege?”

Phantom looked like he was having an existential crisis.  

“Maddie was right!” exclaimed Jack, who couldn’t see Phantom’s face.  “You did lead us into a trap!”

“What?  No?  I’ve never even met this guy before!  You are a guy, right?”

“Yes, my liege.”

“Right.  I’m going to put that on the backburner and freak out about it later.  How are you- Why are you—” Phantom shook his head.  “Why are you here in Pariah’s Keep?”

“It’s your keep.”

“Since when?”

“Say what now?” asked Jack and Maddie at once.  

“Look, this is news to me, too.  But, back to the question.  You.  The keep. Why?  I mean, you weren’t here before.”

“That is because Pariah sealed me, my liege.  When you defeated him, I was released and immediately swore fealty to the true king.  You.”

“I am so freaking out right now, but we’ll revisit that. Later.  Right now, I have to get these guys home.”

“But they have hostile intentions towards your person, my liege!”

“Everyone has hostile intentions towards me.  I’m honestly surprised you haven’t attacked me yet.”

“Ah.  My liege, perhaps you should seek the services of a priest, if all your experiences with new people are such.”

“Is that the medieval equivalent of a therapist?”

“I fear I do not know what that is.  Why do you ask?”

“Because the last time I talked to one of those, they purposefully picked at every one of my insecurities and then tried to murder my, uh.  Someone close to me.”

“An evil counselor, then,” said the knight, gravely.

“I want to agree with you, but somehow I feel like you’re talking about something completely different than the image in my head.”

“That may be true, my liege.  Doubtless, you are very wise.”

Maddie was… lost.  

Very lost.  

Even so, her prerogative was escaping.  She started twisting, trying to get to the knots around her wrists.  

“Did you, uh, pilot the castle out here?”

“Yes.  I sensed that mortal enemies of the king, that’s you—”

“I will debate that as soon as my brain stops screaming at me.”

“—had entered the Realm.”

“Right.  Yeah. Thank you.  But I can handle these guys.  And I need to get them home.  Please. I made a deal with them.”

“With these?”

“Hey!” said Jack, offended.  

“I mean, I use the term deal pretty loosely.”

“Hey!”

“But yes.  Please.  Just.  Dang.  How did you tie them up that quickly?”

“It’s a hobby.”

“Do you mind if I take the chairs?”

“They are your chairs, my liege.”

“I’m still not used to that.”

“Are you quite certain you want to take them?  And just… Let them loose?  The dungeon here is very functional.  We even have an oubliette.”

“Raincheck.  But thank you.  Really, I mean it.”  Phantom flew behind Maddie, and she protested as the chair she was in was yanked upward. “Uh… I might have gotten turned around a time or two, so if you could…”

“Of course!  The keep does seem to have sustained some damage, so we will have to take some detours.”

“Phantom!  Phantom! Put us down and untie us.”

“Nah, I think I like this better.  Your kids can untie you once I bring you back!”

“You’re going to drag us all the way through the Ghost Zone?”

“That’s the plan.”

.

The rest of the flight was surprisingly pleasant. No one attacked, and his parents were much easier to carry in the chairs.  Sure, they struggled, but the struggling was much more manageable than the wriggling from before.  

They were mad at him.  But they were always mad at him.  So.  

No loss, really.

With the utmost carefulness, Danny set them down in the middle of the lab, still tied up, and then began zapping then tossing their most troublesome inventions into the gaping maw of the portal while they screamed at him.  

Normally, he wouldn’t do this, especially after successfully rescuing his parents and hopefully raising their opinion of him, but some of those inventions were painful.  Like.  A lot painful.  And dangerous.  Also, he was doing his level best to avoid thinking about the whole ‘king’ thing.  

Which he couldn’t do forever.  

Especially since Jazz walked down the stairs, probably drawn by the screaming, to see Danny shoving half of the Ghost Catcher through the portal sans-strings.  

“Uh,” said Danny.  

“Get that ghost, Jazzy-pants!”

Danny vanished and fled upstairs.  

.

Jazz had seen many strange things in her life, but that scene was one of the weirder ones.  

It took some time to untie her parents, longer to extract herself from the ensuing rant and their attempt to salvage their equipment from Danny’s all-too-explicable rampage.  Honestly, she was surprised Danny hadn’t snapped earlier.  

She opened the door to his room.  It was empty.  She squinted. He was not just leaving her hanging like that, with no context to what happened other than their parents’ ranting.  She opened her door.  

Danny was lying on his side on the middle of her rag rug, hugging Bearbert Einstein.  

“A ghost told me I was king and that I needed a priest.”

Oh boy.  

[thewritingbasil]

First time writing and publishing something like this! I hope you enjoy!

Chrome x modern!Reader

* When you find out Chrome goes out to explore on his own and lives outside the village, you worry about who will notice if something goes wrong. Since you’re curious and also love discovering things and can’t sit still in the village for a long time, you tell Chrome about the modern-day buddy-system idea and start joining him on his expeditions.

* He’d love to take you exploring and show all the exciting things he discovered! He’s never had an exploring buddy before, and while Senkuu does appreciate what he finds, Senkuu spends more of his time creating blueprints and solving problems in the lab and using what he has available, not looking for things that will maybe be helpful in the future. That’s why he trusts Chrome and, now, you to have an eye for materials that will help the Kingdom of Science grow

* At first Chrome has a lot to teach you, like how to notice materials, where to walk, and how to keep track of time and your location especially since you need to get used to not having a cell phone.

* But eventually you become a great explorer in your own right and he has a lot of trust in you as his partner. In fact, he ends up trusting you a lot when the buddy system helps out, like when he once experienced a small cave-in or when he needed emergency first aid.

* You also find things he overlooked because you both tend to look in different directions when you’re searching.

* He loves that someone else shares his love of exploring with him. When he used to search alone, it was very isolating and he could get lost in his head while walking. Now, you remind him about food and he’s willing to take slightly greater risks when trying to reach somewhere because he’s got you as an extra pair of hands and eyes and brain.

* The combined haul is also bigger, which he gets super excited about. You both chatter to each other and compare stashes when you’re organizing what you found into different baskets at the end of the day.

* When Senku compliments you both on the materials found, Chrome proudly grins at you.

* Chrome isn’t just an explorer though, he’s a scientist which means he can’t spend all his time exploring with you. He goes to work with Senkuu while you help out elsewhere because, buddy system! You’re not going on your own.

* If you’re also working in another group like crafts or the power group, you go for a period of time without seeing him because you’re working on different projects.

* However! During your trips, you both became used to showing each other your finds and communicating when working in different sections to know how each other is doing

* He also appreciated the conversations you would bring about the modern world and about yourself, and how you were eager to learn about himself and his village. So he gets used to that routine of you being there to converse with.

* Chrome ends up talking with you during breaks about what the each of you are doing and exciting progress reports and how the materials you found are being put to use. Both of you get excited learning that something you’ve found has a cool scientific purpose/property and you invite each other to stop by and watch it in action.

* He loves seeing your eyes light up in amazement as you watch and praise his work.

* When you show him your group’s work, it’s not as science-y but he acknowledges your skill and hard work and he is also a craftsman and not too strong so whether you’re in the crafting group or power group, you still impress him. He’s not shy about praising you and gives you high fives or says “Baaaad!” This also helps him get along with other people in your group since he and they don’t usually interact.

* Obviously, Chrome would take a long time to realize that he’s fallen in love with you. He’s known Ruri for over 3 years and he still hasn’t figured it out.

* But others start noticing that he goes out of his way to get you to show off something. They’d understand if the project was finished, but when it’s a work in progress, it’s not very impressive to show. But you love it every single time because you’re curious and actually enjoy seeing everything put together little by little. Then, when the project is done, you can visualize the components and hard work that was put in to create it.

* And the villagers watch how he gets more talkative when you show interest and ask questions. He brings up inventions from the modern era that you’ve told him about so you both seem to share a mysterious language that they can’t understand. Some of them start shipping you two long before he notices anything.

* During mealtimes, you sometimes eat together. You talk about your next scavenging trip, new places in the village you haven’t explored, new projects, so many things. You both can get pretty sucked in to your conversations, forgetting the food. However you’re usually the one who finally remembers that you’re eating, and you teasingly shove food in his mouth. Your cheeky grin has blood rushing into his face and he is dazed, until he shakes himself out of it and starts to eat again.

* People are watching and nudging each other.

* Soon, Chrome becomes aware of you in a way he hasn’t before. He can’t help but smile every time you make eye contact. He craves the casual way you touch him and makes sure to be within your arms’ reach so you’re more likely to nudge him or grab him to drag him off somewhere in your excitement.

* When you first met him with Senku and Kohaku, you learned that he liked Ruri and never questioned it since. Whenever he talked about her, you could tell she was special to him. You made teasing jokes like forging a hairpin from iron and giving it to her with the line of “the burning fire in my heart for you was so hot I melted the iron with it” and he got flustered and groaned over the dumb line

* Recently, when you made those types of jokes, he felt conflicted. Part of him still got flustered but when he looked at you grinning and thinking you were oh so clever, he started to wonder why you would act like he liked Ruri when, thinking about it, he liked you...wait what?? He didn’t like you!

* Sure he thought you were cool and fun to hang out with and capable but that’s just something he admires and that’s a good friend, right?

* Right, he thought, shaking his head. You were a trusted partner, he didn’t want to kiss you or anything...

* “What?” You looked over your shoulder at him. “You got quiet over there.” You two were spending the late afternoon before dinner organizing your haul and you had just said that the location today was so beautiful Chrome should show it to Ruri once Senku cured her.

* He stared at your slightly parted lips. Did he want to kiss them? He was a man of science. When he collected rocks and plants, he’d grind, combine, set on fire, and experiment to find out how they reacted. Your mouth was kind of pretty, and yeah maybe he did want to see if kissing you was enjoyable.

* Chrome’s hands stopped working and now he was looking at you with unfocused eyes and a furrowed brow. You paused in your sorting and turned fully towards him. “You got a look on your face. Whatcha thinking about?”

* He is totally used to telling you his ideas so without hesitation, he answers before thinking, “What kissing you would feel like.” Then, he realized what he said. “Noooo! Sorry, that’s creepy right?” He zoomed backwards away from you, almost crashing into a table. How could he say that to you, you were one of his best friends!

* “Uhhh...” Chrome closed his eyes and braved himself for a rejection, ready to be kicked out of his hut for the next hour. “It’s not that creepy, I guess?” He heard you say. Were his ears working properly? He cracked an eye open to peek at you. You grinned awkwardly at him, having one side of your mouth quirked up.

* “Science inquiry, right? Question everything.”

* Maybe it was the afternoon sun or him imagining things, but your face looked a little pink. Kind of tempting. Whoa, did he really like you?

* “I need to figure something out.” He looked at you intensely.

* “Let me in on it, I wanna know.” Before, you had been avoiding eye contact out of shyness but now your eyes looked into his, drawing him closer. His footsteps seemed to be drowned out by the drums in his chest. He was getting nervous.

* He stopped a little ways in front of you. Being so close to you was almost making him lose his nerves. Kissing you? That seemed impossible.

* “Come on, Chrome.” You entwined both of your hands with his and pulled him closer until you were sharing the same air.

* You closed your eyes and patiently waited. Still with his heart beating in his ears, he looked at your long lashes, your eyebrows arched expectantly, and your flushed cheeks.

* You were getting nervous standing there and you bet your hands were all sweaty now. “Did you change your mind?” You did tend to grab him and drag him places. This was something he should be able to choose without being pressured. You started to loosen your hands, and he ripped his hands away.

* Before you could get disappointed, you felt those hands suddenly on the sides of your face and your lips met something soft.

* He was kissing you.

* Despite the sudden kiss, he knew enough to not just smash your lips together. It was much more of a firm press, one that had you craving for more even as butterflies exploded in your stomach and fire rushed over your skin. But you didn’t want to push it. You simply adjusted your lips to overlap better onto his and put your hands on his hips to hold him close.

* After a few seconds, Chrome leaned back with an entirely red face. “Baaaddddd,” he breathed. That had been enlightening. And soft. And pleasurable. Okay yeah, you weren’t just a best friend anymore. If it meant you would look at him like this, wide-eyed and giddy and hungry for more, he wanted to keep kissing you.

* Your hands squeezed his hips nervously, fingers a fluttering pressure on his flesh. “Practice for Ruri?” You asked in the small distance between your mouth and his.

* “Not Ruri,” he said distractedly. His eyes were still dazed and drinking in the tempting picture you made. “I want to kiss you.”

* And your mouth curled up into a pleased grin, looking hard to resist. So he didn’t.

[the-wereraven]

Darkest Mind AU lore tidbit #2

:)

Names: Cross Kairos - Croissant Cookie Timora Kairos - Timekeeper Cookie

  Cross jolted awake in cold sweat. She sat up and clutched her chest, trying to process her nightmare.   Looking around, Cross saw concrete walls and floors instead of trees and roads. And right across the room was another bed, with Timora sleeping on it, back turned to her.   Oh… right. Cross sighed and rubbed her eyes. We’re not on the streets anymore…   Cross laid back down, staring at the concrete ceiling. It’s been about two days since she and Timora had been taken to this place, wherever it was. She didn’t know much about the location, only that it seemed to be a base of sorts.   She could never forget that day, when the adults had appeared and captured her and her sibling.   They had reached the town that day, seeking to find information on the Children’s League, hoping to be able to get on their radar to be found and protected.   But instead they found a group of adults. They had tried to run, but Cross wasn’t fast enough and got caught.   Timora could’ve used their abilities, they could have easily helped them get away… but fate truly was against them, for Timora was instantly knocked out with a pipe. Cross had truly thought they were dead then.   Everything had happened so quickly, and the next thing Cross knew, she and Timora were here in this room. Timora thankfully woke up, though they could have been faring much better if they hadn’t felt like the world was spinning.   The door was locked, and no amount of ramming the door was going to do anything. There wasn’t even anything in the room they could’ve used, only the blankets and pillows. But it wasn’t like there were any windows they could try to escape from.   Timora had tried mind controlling the adults who came to give them food, but it was no good. The meals were given through slots in the doors, meaning the adults had no reason to carry keys to the cell. And by the time Timora could get them to find someone who did have a key, they’d be out of range.   Though what Cross hated the most was that when she and Timora were being captured, no other adults came to help. The other adults only stood and watched…   ‘A nightmare again?’   Cross turned to see that Timora had turned over on their bed, facing her now.   ‘Sorry… Did I wake you?’ Cross asked, wondering if her nightmare or thoughts were too loud for Timora.   They only shrugged, smiling a bit. ‘It’s kinda hard to ignore your worry over me.’ they said.   Both went quiet when they heard footsteps echoing outside the halls. A light passed underneath the door, and soon disappeared along with the footsteps.   When the footsteps faded, Timora got out of bed and went to Cross’ sitting on the edge as they whispered ‘Wanna talk about it?’   Cross sat up again, drawing her knees up to her chest as she sighed. ‘I dreamt…’ she muttered, ‘that we were running to town… We were panicking, I don’t know why though. All I know is that we were trying to escape someone, an adult.   ‘Then I suddenly got caught… A-and the adult pointed a gun at me, th-they threatened to shoot me, a-and-and y-you were angry. Y-you told them to let me go, you-you used your powers to get them t-to drop me… B-but they didn’t. Th-they pointed the gun a-at you instead. A-and they… they…’   Timora placed their hand on Cross’ unable to watch her continue. But they knew the answer, she was repeating over and over in her head.   They killed you.   ‘Cross,’ Timora called, ‘Cross, look at me. I’m fine, see? I’m right here with you. Nothing bad is going to happen to me, Cross.’   Cross wasn’t convinced however, and wiped away her tears. ‘But what if something does?’ she asked, ‘I- I got us in so much trouble… What if the next time I mess up, it kills you?’   ‘Nothing you do is going to get me killed,’ Timora said, ‘and not everything is your fault.’   They pat her hand. ‘I know you feel like everything that happened is your fault, but it’s not, I promise.   ‘We Psi have it hard… that is a given. Adults are always trying to hunt us down and bring us to camps or kill us, even those forsaken “clans” try to steal our stuff and leave us for dead. The odds are against us as it is, and you’re just doing your best to survive.’   ‘It’s not really my best if I keep getting caught…’   Timora sighed to themself. They truly didn’t know what to say to make Cross feel better. But they tried anyway.   ‘I think we would’ve been caught more if it wasn’t for your powers.’ they said, continuing when Cross fixed them with a look of confusion. ‘Think about it, I know the basics when it comes to tech, but I can’t replay a loop on a single camera. You, however, can play a loop on multiple. And that’s just one example.’   Cross huffed out a chuckle, ‘Well… If you put it that way…’ she muttered.   Timora smiled and patted Cross’ shoulder, ‘My powers can only take me so far, but luckily for me, your massive head is here to save me.’   ‘My head is not massive.’ Cross retorted, smacking away Timora’s hand. ‘How dare you.’ she said with a grin.   The two chuckled a little, and Timora stood from Cross’ bed. ‘Get some rest now,’ they said to her, ‘We’ll figure something out tomorrow.’   Cross nodded and laid back onto the bed, watching as Timora returned to their own bed. ‘Goodnight,’ she said.   ‘Goodnight.’

  The door was unlocked the next afternoon.   Both Cross and Timora stood up from where they stood, conversation dying. They hadn’t expected anyone to come after breakfast, yet alone to come and open the door.   The door swung open, and on the other side were about 4 adults, with two carrying scary looking guns. Cross didn’t recognize what kind it was, but it seemed much more dangerous than the pistols and shotguns that skip tracers used.   The adult with the keys stepped aside, allowing the one behind him to step forward.   Timora itched to use their powers against the adults, knowing that they were powerful enough to do so. But then they noticed the small EMP device-like object hanging from his belt. A White Noise machine.   It was not uncommon for PSFs to carry those, but skip tracers very rarely had them. So how did this man get his hands on one?   He must have noticed Timora looking at his White Noise machine, for he grinned and took it off his belt, waving it in front of the two teens. ‘A beauty, isn’t it?’ he asked. He turned the device towards him, turning the dial so that it pointed at the green bar. ‘Got quite lucky with it.’   The man lifted his thumb, as if he was going to activate the device, and Cross and Timora stiffened to brace for the horrid sound.   But instead of a sharp, painful shriek, they heard a laugh instead.   ‘Now that’s the reaction of some kids who’ve heard of this “White Noise” thing.’ the man said.   Cross scowled, but it quickly disappeared as the man looked at her and Timora more closely.   He hummed to himself, as if thinking. ‘You sure you two are Greens?’ he asked, though he seemed to specifically be talking to Timora. ‘You don’t look like a Green.’   Cross tried her best to hide her shock. Did this man know that Timora wasn’t a Green? But most importantly, did he know what colour she fell under?   Instead of answering his question, Timora frowned and asked ‘Who are you?’   ‘Ah, that’s right…’ the man muttered, clearly unhappy that he was talked back to. ‘You kids may just refer to me as Mercer. I run an organization known as Blue Star.’   ‘And what do you want with us? We’re just useless Greens…’ Timora hoped that Cross knew that they didn’t mean it when they said “useless,” but maybe if they could... convince Mercer to let them go…   Mercer chuckled, though it was strained. ‘Ah, luckily for us, we have uses for Greens like you.’   He then turned to the adults with guns and nodded to them.   Cross stepped away as one of the adults came towards her, but she hit the wall behind her and her arm was grabbed. ‘Hey! Let go!’ she shouted as she struggled, though she knew full well that no one would listen.   Timora snarled at the adult who came towards them, stepping away as well. They reached into the adult’s mind, and had been saying ‘Don’t you dare come near me.’ when suddenly the White Noise filled the room.   Both teens immediately crumpled under the noise.   Timora tried to think through the noise, tried to use their ability to make Mercer turn the machine off. But all they could hear was the sharp shriek of the White Noise.   But they saw Cross reacting worse to it. The noise must have been tuned to Greens, which made Timora fear that Mercer will suspect that something was wrong with their claims.   But Mercer hadn’t been looking, and turned off the machine before long. ‘Let’s try that again, shall we?’ he asked.   Cross felt as if she couldn’t breathe, her head hurt terribly from the White Noise, and she could barely stand when the guard who grabbed her yanked her up.   She looked to Timora, who used the wall to support themself, pretending that they had been affected badly as well. They glanced at Cross, and she heard a faint ‘Sorry’ in her head as they were yanked away by the other guard.   This time, neither Cross nor Timora fought back.   They were dragged out of their cell, and much to their dismay, they were being led in different directions.   Cross looked back just as Timora did, but while a single guard took her away, Timora had the guard, the key-holder and Mercer with them. They weren’t going to be mind controlling their way out of this, not with the White Noise machine right behind them. Not when they didn’t know where they were and where Cross would be.   It’s okay, Cross heard, We’ll be okay. I won’t disappear.   Cross almost fell as the guard yanked her forward, forcing her to walk in front of them with their gun pointed to her back.   More than ever, she hoped fate was with them.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

B2:S - Chapter 4

Much of this series will be about the differences and additions in the novel version, and how they contribute to my understanding of story canon. But there will be character appreciation, the odd theory and headcanon, and suchlike as well.

Here be Viren being villainous, Rayla, Claudia, Soren, and Callum, and tons of culture clash themey stuff

and a tw: animal death, Claudia why

Spoilers for Book Two: Sky below.

Viren's scenes in Book Two: Sky are all amazing because they're full of worldbuilding and character building details. I love to study the word choices used from his perspective. They're so tasty. Like how he forced a servant, and also Soren, to carry his messages to the rookery, so that he never had to go himself. I'm really curious why Viren is forcing a servant, whose job is literally to serve, here. He really only has to ask. Maybe he was mean about it on purpose, or maybe he picked a servant who was afraid of birds just to flex on them. Whatever the reason for the word choice, Viren doesn't seem to like servants' jobs, it seems, especially when they take him somewhere with poop on the floor. It makes it all the more ironic that he sweeps Runaan's cell clean himself, then, humbling himself before he finally figures out the mirror.

Viren's secretive, right down to his very carefully chosen words to those around him, but his true thoughts shine through even more clearly in the book than in the show. He knows he's been sneaking and hiding stuff, and he knows that some of those actions would be called treachery. Stealing the king's seal to forge royal documents is up there on the treacherous list, but it's apparently not there alone. Ah, Viren, such a villainous delight. What have you gotten up to?

The way he thinks of and treats Crow Master is ageist and classist, but certain lines also hint that Viren has spent a lot of time memorizing the finer points of proper courtesy, and he expects others to have done the same. There are many reasons someone might put forth such effort: a commoner trying to better himself to be noticed by a kind prince is a nice version. A sociopath learning to fake caring about rich people so he can blend in with them is less nice. Superconveniently, the skills a young, earnest Viren might use to feel worthy of Harrow's attention will serve him just as well when dark magic ravages his empathy and he has to lie to everyone about how dead he is inside in order to keep his position of power. Until he's not lying anymore and he straight up threatens poor Crow Master with death unless he sends illegal mail for him. There's the Viren we know and uhhhhhh

Rayla and the blue rose! It's so fun to see inside her head here. She acted swiftly in the last chapter to save herself from Claudia's sleep spell, but now that she has to lie there, that thorn really hurts! She wishes she maybe had a different plan instead of playing asleep.

I hope Rayla only calls Claudia's voice "awful" because of association. I love Claudia's raspy voice! It's so neat! Rayla immediately recognizes it as Claudia's, from the castle and identifies her as a dark mage, with a clanky-metal warrior beside her. She gets mad at Soren for apparently calling killing a sport, even though that's not what he said at all. Soren's using an unfamiliar, maybe old-fashioned term, and Rayla's taking it very literally. It's like Viren and Runaan are arguing through them. A fun little example of culture clash.

Also digging the fact that Rayla knows what sleeping breathing looks like, as opposed to awake breathing, for the purposes of faking someone out. Did she just. Perch in a tree over Runaan and Ethari as they napped after a picnic and watched them sleep, or did Runaan help her sneak around the Silvergrove to spy on sleeping elves for training purposes? Also, raise your hand if you've faked sleep breathing to fool someone. that's not just me right

Rayla's sass is a constant delight. Whenever she's up against an enemy, she is outwardly fearless and full of witty taunts and comments, and I love her so much. where could she have learned this from I also love that she can't help but flex on Soren about her technique. It seems that her attitude is part "never show fear" and part "humans are liars."

Claudia and Soren were trying to kill Rayla to save the princes from her. But Rayla was also intent on killing both of them right back. And she wasn't ever gonna tell Callum and Ez about that. Woah. First Harrow, now this. That whole "death and secrets" thing really sank in with her, didn't it? Crack voice in the back of my brain: Ethari does know Runaan stabs people, right, he does know that?

Interesting change of detail from show to book: in the show, Claudia overheats Rayla's swords with some green splattery goo from a little glass jar. In the book, uhhh. She grabs a live bird and squishes it to cast the spell. Eew. Really making a point of dark magic's inherent violence today, I see. Got it.

"Rayla, pipe down." Callum still has a ways to go on how to win friends and influence people here. Everyone's shouting, he's interrupted to save Rayla's life (or so he thinks), and when Rayla shouts that his friends tried to kill her, he tells her--and no one else--to pipe down. Followed soon by "but a 'good' elf." Ahgod. He doesn't think he's taking sides, but he's got two humans versus one elf, and he's a human himself, and his underlying biases are showing. He's 14, and he's willing to learn, though--and he really does learn and grow over time. But this version of this scene was just. So. Painfully. Awkward.

I feel like this version was part of a larger theme I'm seeing throughout the first half of the book, emphasizing that Callum comes from years of having a crush on Claudia, and it takes many scenes with Claudia and with Rayla to shift through several gears with each of them in order to facilitate the possibility of breaking with Claudia and then also of falling for Rayla, in a way that feels organic within the structure of the story being told.

Also Callum super has a type and it's Girls Who Will Commit Murder. I don't make the rules.

Rayla's defense just attacks Callum's word choice: "What do you mean, 'but a good elf'? Do you know any bad elves?" And I just. Rayla, honey. You're not in any better of a spot than Callum right now. Your mentor literally stabs people to death. You're both literally assassins. Some humans could accept most elves, but they might draw the line at assassins.

But this tiny clash in the midst of this war, this single exchange of words, is such a great microcosm, the war made personal. It's early enough in their adventure and their growth that they're still sounding a lot like their parents. And that includes Claudia! She demands to know how an elf can be good, and Callum allows that it's possible for good elves to exist, but he has to be the one to say it, not the actual elf behind him. And the actual elf behind him insists that her kind are all good, thank you very much, and implying otherwise skirts very close to "humans are liars."

It's quite a tangle, but having the main characters tangled up like this shows us that as they untangle themselves in their own personal situations, they're learning things about human and elven hearts, about relationships and family, and those things are universal truths which they can use to help them understand other people's troubles, as well as the larger issues involved in the war they're trying to stop.

Callum assessing--and then reassessing--his confidence level. It's adorable, and it serves to show that his first scrambling attempt to make peace, in which he messed up a little but at least no one died--won't be his last. He's not really sure how this is gonna go. Everything is new. But he's dedicated to peace, and he's not giving up. He did just run in between Soren and his target while Soren was holding a sword.

He keeps doing that. Standing in front of people who have their weapons raised in his direction. And he does it with a ridiculous amount of chill. Is this Sarai's influence on him? Considering that Harrow has kept his distance, maybe so! I'd love that.

This chapter ends with some fun relationship drama when Callum gets butterflies in his stomach at being around Claudia again. She tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, and he forgets all about telling her about smashing her primal stone. He instantly worries that Rayla saw her gesture, which of course she did. Callum's nervousness and Rayla's glare feel to me like they're supposed to fit into a tactical box instead of a romantic box, but I can see how it could be interpreted the other way. Callum just intervened in a fight that Rayla completely intended to end by secretly killing Claudia and Soren, so in Rayla's mind, she's probably convinced that Callum intervened to save his girlfriend's life, while he's sure that he just saved Rayla's. She's probably angry because Claudia's gesture is making her think that Callum only seemed to be trying to save Rayla when his true intention was to save Claudia all along.

Dun dun dunnnnnnn.

[harryspet]

rogue angel [3] bucky barnes

[Warnings] dark bucky barnes x reader, don’t read warnings if you don’t wanna be spoiled, daddy bucky, dd lg dynamic, ab dl dynamic, forced age regression, bondage, vibrator, overstimulation

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! 

series masterlist

In which you want to believe he cares. 

word count: 2.5k

“Where are we?”

“On a picnic blanket.”

You had to keep yourself from rolling your eyes as you took in the environment. He had to carry you for a good ten minutes before you ended up by the lake and you hadn’t taken your eyes off the view since he’d set you on the picnic blanket. The lake was surrounded by tall mountains that reflected off the blue-green water. You hadn’t seen anything like it but this was simply a backyard to Bucky. 

There was also a dock nearby with a deck boat sitting at the end. If you had a key and you could somehow make it down to the lake then you could-

Your thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of something cold touching your back, “Stay still for Daddy,” You tried your best as he began to rub sunscreen into your exposed back. You wondered how there could be snow on the mountain tops but the sun still shined down on your skin. You never felt the sun on your skin before, always locked away in the cell that they kept you in. 

You didn’t mind it then but now … 

“Can we swim in the water?”

He tapped your nose with a bit sunscreen on his finger and you insisted that you could rub it in yourself but he didn’t care to listen. 

“The water is pretty cold,” You frowned a little, “Do you like to swim, angel?”

“I don’t know,” You answered honestly. You had no idea what you liked. It wasn’t in your nature to enjoy things of that nature. 

Bucky held your face in his hands and you wish very dearly that you weren’t so close to him. The feelings he brought out you were frightening, “We’ll try swimming someday. We can try lots of things and then we’ll make a list of everything you like.”

A list? “Why does it matter?”

“Because they make you happy,” Bucky gave you an earnest look, “C’mere, I brought something for you to do.”

He moved to reach into the picnic basket and removed a couple of books as well as a fresh pack of crayons. He placed them in front of you, one was full of blank pages and the other had lots of designs. You flashed him a look of confusion as you stared at the items. 

“What am I supposed to do?”

“They’re for coloring,” Bucky grinned, “You can either draw your own pictures or color in the designs. It’s relaxing.”

Relaxing, you thought it was an interesting concept.

You had no idea what you would draw on your own so you picked the book that already had outlines in it. Bucky watched you carefully as you flipped through the pictures, none of them piquing your interest until you paused. He couldn’t see which one you had chosen but your mood seemed to shift at the sight of it. 

“Just … right on the page?” She asked after picking out a yellow crayon. Bucky didn’t expect the question or for her to care in the slightest about the coloring book, “I won’t ruin it?”

“It’s your creation, how can you ruin it?”

You could definitely ruin it, you thought, you had screwed up many times before. As your fingers traced the design of the family of giraffes, you couldn’t help but stop yourself from pressing the crayon to the paper. 

It weakened Bucky’s heart to see you nervous and it took little effort to scoop you into his lap. You struggled, unsure of his intentions at first but he grabbed a blue crayon, “Let’s do it together, princess.”

The picture was a cute family of giraffes enjoying a watering hole together. Bucky began to color inside the lines of the water and you hesitated, looking him over. One hand was on your waist and the other was around the crayon. You brushed off that feeling in your heart as you pressed the yellow crayon to the paper. 

You colored their hides yellow and their spots brown. You liked how you added the splash of color, brightening the page, but could keep things organized by staying in the lines. You hadn’t even noticed that Bucky had stopped coloring to just admire you. 

Your eyes were focused solely on the drawing and he felt you began to relax in his arms, “You’re making such a pretty picture, Y/N,” Bucky praised her, watching your nose crinkle as you tried to hide a grin, “When we get back to the house, we’ll put it on the fridge.”

You didn’t respond, only shaded in the trees with dark green. You lost track of time as you colored in every single detail on the page carefully, from the butterflies to the smiles on the giraffes’ faces. You didn’t even notice as Bucky began to slip blueberries and strawberries into your mouth. You just enjoyed the taste, caring only to make sure no juices slipped onto your artwork. 

“Why … why are they so happy?” You asked, after placing the final touches. 

“Who are they?” Bucky asked, following your fingers as you pointed to the giraffe's on the paper, “Hmm, we could make up our own story. Maybe they’re happy just because they’re together?”

You looked over the picture again and you could suddenly see the picture moving, “Maybe they’re a family … maybe these are the Mom and Dad and maybe this is their baby,” Your fingers traced over the picture as Bucky listened to you speak. He liked the sound of your voice very much, especially now that you were relaxed and your mind was racing with pure thoughts, “Maybe the baby was lost for a little while and they found him … a-and they always go to the watering hole together so the baby never gets lost again.”

You felt Bucky place a gently kiss on your shoulder and you were surprised that you didn’t flinch. Not even a little bit. “That’s a beautiful story, angel,” You only nodded, feeling a tear drip down your cheek. Your lips parted in a look of shock as he wiped the tear away with his thumb.

“I’d never lose you, Y/N.”

For a fleeting moment, you believed him. 

+

Bucky added coloring to the list of things that you would probably never admit that you liked. You had colored a few more pictures and Bucky had proudly displayed them on the fridge. Now, he was seeing if you liked Disney movies. After her dinner and bath, he had set up the projector in the living room and created a cozy space for them on the couch. 

You waited patiently in your unicorn onesie and pigtails on the pile of blankets and stuffed animals.

Out of the most interesting DVD covers, you had picked Frozen from the pile. 

“How does the snowman talk?”

“Because of Elsa’s magic.”

“Why does he like summer so much if it’ll just make him melt?”

“That doesn’t mean he can’t like summer.”

“Is magic real?”

“I’ve seen some pretty magical things in my long lifetime.”

As much as the moving shapes and fun songs intrigued you, it baffled you at the same time. This is what people did for fun? They just sat around and let movies entertain them rather than working? You guessed that Bucky had lived long enough not to have to work anymore. 

After you had gone through both of the Frozen movies, Bucky decided that it was time for you to go to bed, “Can we watch another one? Please?” You grabbed his hand which took him back for a moment, “Daddy? I want to see more magic stuff.”

If Bucky got you into that bed then he’d wrap that magnetic cuff around your leg and you’d have no chance at escape.

Bucky believed you as you were a convincing liar. He should’ve known better, remembered your Hydra training, but he couldn’t deny your doe eyes at that moment. He sat back on the couch and let your head nuzzle into his chest, his right arm holding onto you. 

You knew how to slow your breathing and heart rate down and that’s exactly what you did as you pretended to sleep on his chest, “Goodnight, princess,” He whispered, stroking your hair.  As Lilo & Stitch reached its end, you felt Bucky’s head tilt back and some light snoring ensued. 

You waited until he was deeper into his sleep, to move his arm from around you. You were as careful as you could possibly be. 

You thought you’d fall but as you put one foot in front of the other, you managed to keep your balance. You were wobbly, of course, but you were walking. You held onto the back of the couch to keep your balance as you practiced for a short moment. 

You moved as quietly you could through the house as you mentally yelled at your legs to not give out. You looked over the front door, at the three locks that were on the door, and carefully undid each one. You took at least a minute on each one, trying to make the least amount of noise as possible. 

Your plan was perfect. I’d never lose you blah blah blah. He had some ulterior motive you couldn’t quite calculate yet but you knew there had to be a reason he was pretending to care for you. Everything was perfect until an alarm blared through the house and then through the forest that surrounded the house. 

You moved as quickly as you could without tripping over yourself. Down the porch and then towards the treeline. You almost jumped out of your skin as the sound of Archer’s barks filled the air. 

You cursed because your body wasn’t listening to you, “Y/N!” He called for you and your heart sunk. You turned to see he wasn’t even chasing you. He was far too strong and you were far too slow for that. 

As your knees suddenly buckled, you fell onto the grass, “Don’t touch me!” You shouted as you felt his arms grab ahold of your waist. He lifted you and tossed you over his shoulder without a word. You screamed for help as your fist pounded at the rock he called aback. 

He carried you back into the house, the scent of the evergreens still on your nose, as the front door slammed shut. He disabled the alarm before carrying you up the stairs. You weren’t surprised when he brought you to the room but your eyes widened as he tossed you onto the bed. 

He held you down with his vibranium arm as he wrapped those magnetic cuffs around each of your wrists, “Bucky, please. Please don’t hurt me-” 

“I’d never do that, Y/N. I could never do that,” His words were soft but his tone was anything but it. You had truly made him angry and something in your heart twinged as you heart the hurt in his voice, “But you have to be punished somehow. You can’t run away from me. I take care of you and you are obedient in return. That is the only way things will work around here.”

“Bucky-”

“Call me that one more time and you’ll make things worse,” Your mouth instantly closed as you heard his words. 

Bucky leaned down to undo the buttons at the crotch of your bodysuit and you flinched as he tore away the fabric of your underwear, “W-What are you going to do?” He didn’t answer as he grabbed a device that looked sort of like a wand. It was a bright pink color and mushroomed at the top. He used a belt to strap it to your thigh as he pushed it against your folds. 

As it began to vibrate, you threw your head back as your body reacted to the shock. If you thought the emotions you were feeling were foreign, this feeling was otherworldly. It felt strange… good. Your cheeks began to heat as you saw him watching you and you guessed this was another aspect of your punishment. 

You pulled at your restraints as electricity seemed to flow through you, warming your body with pleasure, before that heat seemed to build up in your core. You felt something coming like you might wet yourself, and you winced, “Don’t run from it, angel. It won’t hurt you,” And he was right because, as you tried to relax, it ripped through you. You shook as your body lept over that cliff and you exploded in ecstasy. 

Bucky could feel himself growing harder in his briefs as he listened to you moan uncontrollably. He looked away from you for a moment, trying to call himself down as he grabbed your pacifier gag from one of the lockable drawers, “Pl-Please-” You were still crying out in pleasure as he forced it into your mouth. 

You were done, your body had reached its climax but the stimulation continued. You watched as Bucky crossed the room, taking a seat in the rocking chair across the room. His arm was bent on his knee and his hand on his chin as he watched you. You shook your head over and over, wanting him to stop it but your body was beginning to prepare you for another climax.

How many could you have? How many would Bucky force out of you?

After number two you were writhing in that small bed, running from the next orgasm. As you moved your hips, it only pressed the vibrating toy closer to your sensitive bulb. Your screams were being muffled by your gag.

Just one break. If you could have just one break you’d be okay. Right now you weren’t sure how long you could stay conscious with that scorching fire inside of you burning on. You weren’t sure what happened after number five, you were so tired that your vision was blurry. Still, you felt Bucky’s hand against your cheek as you floated away into dreamland. 

+

“It’s only been a few days, Bucky.”

“I just thought I was making good progress today.”

“You were, I’m sure you were. She didn’t just forget the connection you’re building with her. Her instincts are still telling her to run, telling her that you are the enemy but soon ... you’ll be the one she runs to.”

Bucky sighed, holding the phone closer to his ear, “I really hope so.”

“My little Rory was just like her and, after I lost Vision, I didn’t think I could take his rejection at first. But I was all he had and I showed him that I was gonna be there for him whether he hated me for it or not. You just have to be there for her.”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, “I’m just gonna be there for her, Wanda. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. You’re a great Daddy, Bucky,” He could hear her warm smile through the phone, “I can’t wait to meet your little angel. I’m sure she’s just as beautiful as you describe her.”

+

Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think! What sort of role do you hope Wanda plays in the story? Also, if you want to give me some extra support then you can buy me a coffee through the link in my bio :)

[kyuuppi]

Fruit Salad (NSFW)

Pairing: Orihara Izaya x Reader ( ♀ )

Genre: SMUT, a lot of subtle fluff cause Izaya is my husbando and I love him

⚠️WARNING⚠️ Oh boy... food play, object insertion, light dirty talk, maybe some degradation?, kitchen sex, fingering, really messy oral, light nipple play, biting, spit play, slightly insecure reader, unfortunately Izaya does not get nakey :(

WC: 4.4k 

Izaya hums to himself as he moves around the room with purpose, seeming to have already mentally planned at least ten steps ahead of each action he takes--the antithesis to your own frazzled, jerky movements as your flit between various cardboard boxes, unable to recall the contents of a single one without reading the haphazard black sharpie words etched on the sides. You feel frustration well within you as you realize you are not even halfway done with unpacking the bedroom after nearly two hours.

‘Why the hell do I have so many clothes when I wear the same three sweatshirts every week!’

Glancing over at Izaya’s side of the room you can’t help but feel envious at his few, neatly organized boxes he seems to instinctively know the contents of. All of his clothing seems to fit in a single large box, the bulk of his belongings being various computer hardware and other communication devices that he handles with care.

As per usual, he seems to have a sixth sense for knowing exactly what you’re thinking and his head lifts from the short stack of books in his hands to meet your annoyed gaze with a taunting grin.

“It’s rude to stare, y’know.”

You tear your eyes away from his form with a scoff, a self of hopelessness coming over your form when your eyes land on yet another box mockingly labelled “clothes.” Three months ago, when Izaya had suggested the two of you move in together as your lease at your previous place was coming to an end, you had been ecstatic, to say the least. In the midst of your twenties it is easy to compare yourself to others you deemed more successful and established and you were starting to feel your minimum wage job and shabby apartment complex, filled with mostly rowdy college freshmen with a few grumpy elderly cat ladies sprinkled in, was holding you back. Moving into a fancy new apartment you could never even dream of affording by yourself and with your handsome boyfriend of two years no less--now that is how succeeding in life really looks, right? You were excited to open a new chapter of your life but now, as you stand in the middle of an unfamiliar living room with at least thirty boxes scattered around and the beginnings of hunger pains settling in the pits of your stomach from skipping breakfast, you aren’t so sure.

The beginnings of your internal self-pity rants are interrupted by the familiar childish lilt of Izaya’s voice as he approaches one of the larger boxes by your side.

“My, my...it seems my favorite little human needs some help,” he teases, easily cutting through the messy layers of packing tape with one of his numerous pocket knives he seems to always have.

In the corner of your eye you recognize one of the colorful lumps that springs from the opened box as a childhood Gudetama plush you had all but forgotten you owned. It likely lived most of the past four years in the back corner of your closet, to be honest.

Izaya’s offer immediately relieves some of the pressure from your shoulders and you find yourself growing warm at his display of genuine kindness. At times like these it is difficult to imagine Izaya as the sadistic monster most of Ikebukuro makes him out to be--

“I wonder if I’ll find something naughty in one of these boxes~”

Nevermind. He is definitely a monster.

You use all of your strength to jab his arm in retaliation, your face feeling hot as you sputter out that you don’t have any “naughty” belongings, thank you very much! He only laughs manically, completely unfazed by your physical attack as he makes his way to your new shared bedroom to put your unnecessarily large collection of plushies away.

Having some of your burdens removed you feel much more clear headed and decide to get started on putting the dishes away so the two of you could at least have silverware for the takeout you’ll inevitably be ordering soon. Having spent a great deal of time in a few of Izaya’s apartments over the past few years, you already have an idea of where he keeps certain things and you try to make a conscious effort to satisfy the both of you with locations you think make the most sense. Pretty soon, the repetitive actions of putting forks in draws and plates in cupboards becomes second nature and you find yourself zoning out as you work, oblivious to Izaya’s own labors in the other room until his voice once again breaks the relative silence of the apartment.

“What’s in this box?” Izaya asks innocently as he approaches the kitchen you’re in.

You turn your head to look at what he is referring to, unsurprised to find him already peering inside the flaps of the bright pink box he had just opened. It would be more surprising to you if he hadn’t opened the box. As an information broker and a naturally curious person in general, Izaya has a habit of checking things himself rather than waiting for someone to tell him what he wants to hear. You suppose in his field he is used to people attempting to lie to protect themselves anyway but the first few months of having your boyfriend casually invading every aspect of your privacy were overwhelming, to say the least. Rather than reaching a compromise (Izaya didn’t exactly do compromises), you grew used to it and no longer felt scandalized if you saw him shamelessly scrolling through your cell phone you had just changed the pass code to or bringing up a topic you had only talked about once before with a close friend. His actions had good intentions behind them...usually.

You recognize the pink box immediately and can’t help but to smile fondly at the memory.

“Ah, my mom dropped that off when she came to visit a few weeks ago. She said it's a housewarming gift. I haven’t gotten around to opening it though,” you answer, watching as he pulls out a few items and placing them on the breakfast bar between you two.

The first few objects are what you would expect, a few overpriced scented candles and a plush blanket in your favorite color. It is one of the last few items Izaya pulls out that has your mouth falling slack with shock and his own expression morphing from confusion to pure glee. Dangled from his right hand is an atrociously bright colored pack of small, uniform circles surrounded by clear plastic squares adorning matching colored cartoon fruits drawn on each.

Condoms...fruit flavored condoms.

You silently pray the group will just open up and swallow you whole as Izaya carelessly tosses the box to the side to turn all of his attention on the pack in his hands, excitedly assessing each of the options. While of course you are no stranger to sex, Izaya had a healthy libido afterall, it was generally a small, undisclosed part of your relationship together. When the moment struck it would happen, generally very vanilla with the occasional teasing remarks or dirty talk via Izaya, but afterwards neither of you ever talked about it or brought it up. But...now that you two would be living together...would it happen more often? Your cheeks instantly heat up in mortification at where your own perverted train of thought was rapidly heading.

“Which do you think we should try first, y/n-chan?” your boyfriend casually asks, eying the bright yellow pineapple flavor.

You nearly choke on your own spit.

“Wh-wha...Izaya, we need to get back to unpacking! P-put those away already,” you stutter out, stepping forward in an attempt to grab the pack from his hands, missing when he easily side-steps you and instead grabs your arm to pull you closer to his warm body. Your brain nearly short circuits when he leans forward to your left ear, hot breath leaving goosebumps along your neck as he murmurs.

“It’s important to take breaks, y’know,” he suggests calmly, like a doctor placating a panicked patient.

It works infuriatingly well and you find your whole body feeling like gelatin as you subconsciously relax in his hold.

“You like strawberries, right, y/n-chan~?”

You nod dumbly, thoughts too scattered to even think about what he’s really asking when his soft lips are just barely brushing the tip of your ear before his teeth offer a little nip that has your whole body shuddering. You’re brought back to your senses when you feel the arms he had snaked around your waist contract and pull up, gently placing you on top of the kitchen island.

“W-wait, we should go to the bedroom.”

Izaya seems unperturbed, fiddling with something behind you as his lips leave a trail of searing kisses along your neck. He doesn’t make a move to acknowledge your suggestion until you place your hands on his shoulders and attempt to push him off of you, at which he naturally doesn’t budge a single centimeter.

“Hmm? I’m in the kitchen because I’m going to eat something--I don’t see the problem.”

Something in the pit of your stomach flutters at the implication and you can’t find it in yourself to argue further. He disconnects from your neck and takes a step back only to tug at the bottom of your top. You raise your arms obediently, the action almost instinctive at this point, and he pulls your shirt off of your body, wasting no time removing your bra immediately afterwards. You immediately shiver at the sudden cold and would have moved your arms in front of your chest in embarrassment at how the brightly lit kitchen in midday leaves you feeling more exposed than usual but Izaya moves quickly and his lips are already back on your neck before you can ever react. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed a bowl of fruits next to you that you didn’t remember being there before. You think nothing of it and let your eyes flutter closed when Izaya’s lips finally find your right nipple, sucking the nub into his hot mouth without hesitation, making your spine tingle. Your hands move up to clutch his dark locks, desperate for something to keep you grounded but the action only spurs him on further and he lets out a soft groan as he swirls his tongue around before scrapping the sensitive flesh with his teeth. You yelp when he sucks harshly, back arching away only for his hands to keep your firmly in place. He pulls back, releasing the nipple with a small pop before he moves his attention to it’s twin. You feel lightheaded with the contrast of cold air nipping at the rapidly cooling saliva on your right nipple while the left one is subjected to the blazing heat of Izaya’s mouth.

His right hand remains secured on the small of your back while the left first around to tease the nipple not in his mouth, mimicking the actions of his tongue with his fingers as he rolls the hardened bud in tight circles before pinching which his teeth nip. Your thighs rub together as you feel wetness pool in your underwear and you briefly wonder if it's possible to reach an orgasm with nipple stimulation alone.

Before you can find out firsthand, Izaya releases both of your nipples and pulls back. You can’t help the small whine that escapes your lips at the loss when both nipples now feel cold and achy. He giggles at that, the gleam in his vermillion eyes seeming dangerous.

“Don’t worry, princess, Izaya-sama will take good care of you~” he childishly promises, a stark contrast to the nimble fingers now unbuttoning your shorts before gently pushing your shoulder back until you lay flat on the marble counter. The surface is cold and hard, uncomfortable on your back, but the heat between your legs takes priority over all other discomforts. You waste no time lifting your hips so he can slide the fabric of your shorts and panties down your legs at once, all usual inhibitions seemingly lost when your head feels so fuzzy.

Izaya’s large hands firmly plant themselves on each of your knees and spread them apart slowly, like he’s opening his own personal Christmas present, until your heels are pressed into the edge of the counter. You can feel the cold air on your folds and know you must be absolutely soaked but you can’t resist chancing a glance up at Izaya’s expression.

Big mistake.

You can see the hunger in his eyes as his gaze is glued to the space between your thighs, licking his own lips in anticipation. Your core clenches at the sight and you feel more slick leaking out of your hole. His eyes follow the movement before he glances up at your flushed face and offers a knowing smirk. You think your soul just left your body.

His left hand slides down from your knee to your inner thigh, thumb resting right at the junction between your leg and pelvis right his right hand moves directly to your folds, two fingers gliding easily along the slick lips before reaching your clit, causing your whole body to jerk at the light contact.

He rubs circles around your clit through the hood until whines and soft moans are spilling your lips, his other hand teasing your folds with just his thumb. All movement stops abruptly and he pulls his hands away but before you can even mourn the loss of stimulation, his thumbs are hooked into each side of your folds and pulling your cunt open before he’s ducking his head down and swiping his tongue along the wetness. The moan that leaves your throat sounds nearly pornographic but you find it difficult to care when the tip of his wet tongue moves up to flick at your clit a few times before sliding back down and circling your small hole.

Izaya is neat and organized in all other aspects of his life but every time he eats your pussy it’s absolutely messy. Rather than lapping up your wetness he drools around his own tongue, making it ever wetter until every movement releases obscene clicks and sloshing sounds. He pulls back only a few centimeters, retracting his tongue back into his mouth for a second. You watch with morbid fascination as he collects the saliva in his mouth only to purse his lips over your pussy and let the liquid slowly drip down directly into your twitching hole. It feels dirty, it is dirty, but you can’t deny the flutter in your gut and the way your core absolutely pulses in pleasure as you audibly whimper. He keeps you spread open as his tongue delves back in, thrusting in and out of you before returning to your engorged clit. His right hand releases its hold only to push his middle finger inside of you, an easy glide with excess liquids dripping down to the counter by now. With each inwards thrust his finger curls upwards, stabbing a part of your fleshy insides that make your vision bloom until the kitchen lights above you are starbursts and everything is swimming.

The next time he pulls his middle finger out he presses his ring finger beside it and both are pressing into you, providing the slight sting of a stretch that has you keening while your cunt eagerly accepts them. His lips wrap around your clit to harshly suck as his two fingers press into that same spongy part and you’re seeing stars. You feel a familiar pressure in the pits of your belly, building bigger and bigger with each thrust of his fingers and scrape of his teeth against your clit. You’re going to cum soon.

“I-ngh--Izaya,” you whimper out, struggling to form the words you need to express your warning.

It is pointless really, Izaya is already exceptional at reading body language, even more so yours. He only hums in acknowledgement, the vibrations further stimulating your clit and making you press your hips forwards, seeking more as you draw closer and closer to the finish line. Every muscle in your body seems to contract as you feel it coming, tensing up in preparation for the impending release.

That’s when he decides to pull away.

You aren’t sure whether to cry or punch him in the face when you feel your incoming climax completely disappear, leaving your clit still throbbing and your hole empty, hopelessly clenching and unclenching around nothing. Your eyes open to give him the strongest glare you can muster only for him to not even be looking at you, instead fiddling with something you can’t see from your angle. You open your mouth, ready to curse him out until the words die in your throat as you watch him bring the fingers of high right hand that were just inside of you to his own mouth, casually licking them clean. Your heart stutters in your chest.

“Hmm...ah, this one is perfect.”

Your brows furrow in confusion as he seems to make up his mind about something. You move to sit up but he’s already back between your legs, grinning down at you as if he hadn’t just robbed you of an orgasm.

His left thumb slides back to your clit, making you shudder as a flame seems to rekindle inside of you. He wastes no time to set a fast pace rubbing your clit, quickly bringing you back close to where you were before but not quite. Then you feel something blunt pressed against your whole, much larger than any of his fingers. For a moment you think it might be his cock but you don’t recall seeing him unbuckle his pants at any point and the cool temperature is nothing like his familiar heat.

The object is circled around your hole and you notice it feels really smooth...like latex.

“Wh-what is that,” you ask nervously. The two of you haven't used toys before and you don’t recall him ever mentioning owning any.

His grin widens, seeming amused by your apprehension.

“You wanted to try strawberry, right? Well, I prefer bananas so why not both.”

You scramble to sit up and nearly have a heart attack when you see the curved yellow object wrapped in neon pink pressed against your pussy.

“Izaya, th-thats…!”

“Strawberry and banana--its like a smoothie~,” he explains proudly.

A sudden pinch on your clit has your arms faltering and makes you fall back, yelping as your back reconnects with the marble.

“Now be a good girl, yeah? I need to take care of this poor pussy.”

You choke on your own saliva as he presses the covered tip of the thick fruit into you, slowly stretching your hole open with a sharp sting.

“It’s just begging to be filled,” he croons.

You feel the stretch of each centimeter as he pushes it in but Izaya is relentless and doesn’t let up on the pressure until the tip bumps into your cervix and your muscles are spasming uncontrollably as your mouth opens in a silent scream.

“It’s...big,” you stutter out dumbly, hardly even aware you’re speaking out loud.

Izaya feigns an innocently concerned expression as his left thumb continues to rub circles into your clit.

“Ehh~? Then we’ll have to make sure we stretch you open properly ‘cause my cock is even bigger.”

You instinctively clench as you feel him pulling it out slowly, never fully removing it before he’s pushing it back in. The residual wetness from earlier makes a resounding squelch every time he pushes it back in that has your cheeks burning in shame.

With each thrust the stretch stings less and less, aided by his teasing on your clit never faltering, and instead you feel the familiar pleasure of having something thrusting inside of you, rubbing against your slick walls. The natural curve of the fruit forces the tip to hook into a spot just before your cervix then dragging along the top of your walls as it’s pulled out only to repeat the motion. That same pressure in your lower belly returns but a little stronger and you think if Izaya denies your orgasm this time you might actually die.

Izaya however, does not offer any indications that he plans to do so and instead moves his left hand from your cit to push your right thigh higher, your knee nearly touching your chest, so he has room to lean down use his tongue instead, right hand still continuing to fuck the banana into you, gradually quickening his pace until it feels punishing and its almost too much. The battering of the tip against your cervix has your body trying to pull away but Izaya’s hand keeps you firmly in place, forcing you to accept whatever he gives you.

It’s when he uses his teeth to lightly nibble on your bud while simultaneously shifting the angle of fruit that your climax rips through your body, setting every nerve ending in your body on fire and rendering your eyes useless as white blinds your vision. Your mouth is open and sounds are coming out but you yourself can’t even process what you’re saying. Izaya continues his assault with vigor, making you ride out your orgasm to its fullest before the come down has you too sensitive and using what little remains of your strength to kick him away and attempt to close your legs.

You hardly have the strength to deny him of anything on a good day, let alone after an intense orgasm, but he seems to be feeling generous enough to stop when you say it's too much. He pulls his head away from between your thighs and you try to ignore the glistening juices dripping down the corners of his mouth and smeared on his chin as he slowly removes the banana from your fluttering pussy. You feel empty again and you can literally feel your stretched hole gaping, leaving you feeling embarrassed. Izaya dips down suddenly to press a single peck to your clit. You whine softly in over-sensitivity but the unexpectedly sweet gesture makes your chest feel warm.

As you attempt to catch your breath, Izaya moves away again, removing the sticky condom from the fruit and throwing it in the trash bin before placing the equally sticky banana back on the counter next to the fruit bowl. You’re about to make a complaint when he moves back to your side, smirking at your disheveled state and picking you up, one hand behind your back and the other beneath your knees, to carry you to the bedroom.

He places you on the freshly made sheets gingerly, your body immediately sinking into the plush mattress like a puddle. He leaves the room only to return a few seconds later with a plastic bottle of water and a paper pamphlet you recognize as the menu to one of your favorite takeout restaurants. Your brows furrow in confusion as he takes a seat next to you on the bed, silently skimming through the menu, undoubtedly already knowing what both of you will order.

Despite the heaviness in your lids and bonelessness of your body, you sit up to question the man.

“Izaya?”

His eyes shift over to you in question, his expression dangerously mischievous yet unreadable as usual.

“Aren’t you...don’t you need to, like...get off?” you cringe at how awkward and undeniably unsexy your words sound and you can see the mirth in his gaze but he decides to spare you the teasing for now.

“Aww, my little human is so eager to please her god~” he lilts.

You roll your eyes in response before squealing when he pulls you into his arms, forcing you both to lie back down on the bed, entangled in his arms while he teasing blows a puff of air in your left ear just to watch you squirm as you try to get away.

“Don’t worry, y/n-chan, I’m satisfied just watching you.”

Your chest swells and your annoyed expression melts into a small smile at the implication that he cared more about your own pleasure and exhaustion than his own needs--

“I never would have thought you’d enjoy getting fucked by a fruit so much~! Next time should we try a cucumber?”

You have zero regrets when you punch him in the chest.

[sisterspooky1013]

Title: Everything

Author: SisterSpooky1013

Rating: Explicit

Words: 5030

Description: in an AU season 7, the IVF worked

Read it on AO3:

She felt sick, scanning the room for something she could throw up in if it came to that. One of the drawers was labeled “emesis bags” and she took a mental note. She couldn’t recall having thrown up a single time since her cancer went into remission, and she had the thought that this was a fact that would probably change if the procedure worked. She took a deep breath to fend off the nausea and looked around for something to distract her from the news she was waiting for. They’d drawn her blood 30 minutes prior and told her they’d call her with results, but she’d asked if she could wait, not sure she was capable of doing anything other than waiting, her stomach in knots. There was a rack of pamphlets on the wall about different tests, conditions, and procedures and she read over their titles, wondering if there’d be any she hadn’t heard of. “IUI,” “IVF,” “PCOS,” “POF,” the acronyms spoke to a world that could only be understood by the few that wished they didn’t have to be there. She noticed there wasn’t a pamphlet for “ova harvested by government evildoers (or possibly aliens) then later recovered under cryo refrigeration” and chuckled to herself at the idea. Mulder would have found that joke funny, but he wasn’t here. Not that he hadn’t asked to be, but she couldn’t stand the idea of having to get bad news in front of him. The downside was, of course, she’d have to repeat the bad news to him later, but at least she could have her own initial reaction in privacy.

Her eyes fell to a pamphlet titled “sperm donation” and she plucked it from the rack, scanning the panels that talked about how to select a donor and how to talk to a child about being donor conceived. Her selection of Mulder as her donor had been nothing like this. She’d spent weeks thinking about how to ask him, rehearsed the words over and over, considered sending them in an email, or calling him on the phone so she didn’t have to look at his shocked expression and watch him scramble for a way out. She decided that she’d insist he take some time to think about it, not accepting an immediate answer. She’d feel more confident that he came to the right conclusion if he had a day or two to consider it, and this would avoid her either worrying that his “yes” was one he’d come to regret, or wondering if his “no” would have been a “yes” if he hadn’t felt like he had to decide quickly. In the end she’d blurted it out after an evening spent spitballing about theories of alternate universes on his couch, their relaxed and comfortable banter a safe place for her, helping her feel brave. She’d been poised to walk out the door, her coat on, when she stopped and turned back to him as he rinsed dishes in the kitchen sink. Taking a breath and swallowing hard, she closed her eyes and forced the words out.

“Mulder, I need to ask you something. Something important.”

His expression was mostly concern, but there was curiosity there too. “Okay, what’s up?” He dried his hands on a dish towel and leaned against the doorframe, studying her. She wished he would have stayed at the sink, occupied. She wished he weren’t looking at her, his hooded eyes boring into her.

“Uh, well. You know that I’ve been pursuing in vitro fertilization with the ova you recovered.”

“Is something wrong? Are they not able to do the procedure?”

“No, nothing is wrong. It’s going fine. I’m to the point in the process where I have to choose a sperm donor. For the other half of the genetic material.”

“Okay.” He still had that same look on his face. He certainly wasn’t going to draw his own conclusions.

“I’ve looked at some of the donor profiles, but I’ve come to feel that I’d rather use a known donor than a stranger.”

“Okay.” There was more confusion in his face now than anything. She looked at the floor in frustration, sighing. Mulder laughed a little “I’m still waiting for the question part of this, Scully. Do you want me to help you choose?”

She laughed a little as well. “No, that’s not what I’m asking, Mulder.” She raised her eyes to look at his face. “I wanted to ask you if you’d consider being the donor.”

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but it just hung there and she recognized that it was an expression of shock.

“Please, don’t answer now, I’d like you to take some time to think about it. And it’s okay if the answer ends up being no, really. I wouldn’t have any expectation of your involvement, financial or otherwise. I just can’t think of anyone else I’d want to scramble my DNA with.”

He closed his mouth and nodded once, still not able to find the right words to say, or any words for that matter. She’d turned and left without saying anything else, leaving him stupefied in the doorway of the kitchen.

When he stopped by her apartment the next night and told her his answer was yes, she’d been so overwhelmed she nearly lost her composure and kissed him right there in her living room. She was glad when he’d left soon after delivering the news, so that she could cry tears of happiness, and relief, and grief that this was the only bit of Mulder she could potentially have the opportunity to truly love. Though she wanted so much more of him, this could be enough. That knowledge made the stakes even higher as she jabbed her thighs and buttocks with the fertility drugs that would prepare her body to become pregnant. It made it even more bittersweet when he asked after the side effects, making clear he’d done his research, and joked about the awkwardness of the donation room at the clinic, not wanting to come back out too quickly so the nurses didn’t come to any conclusions about his stamina. She wanted so much more of him, but she could accept getting to have his child as enough.

Standing to replace the pamphlet on the rack, she smoothed the front of her dress and tugged at the hem of her sweater. It was a Saturday, so she was in non-work attire; a lavender knee-length cotton dress with a scoop neck, paired with a white cardigan and white strappy heels. It was something she might wear to church with her mother, and somehow this situation felt like one she could treat with reverence and respect. She paced the room as the nausea returned, knowing that each moment brought her closer to something big. She’d decided that if the results were negative, she’d call Mulder once she got home. If they were positive, she’d stop by his apartment and tell him in person.

There were three soft taps on the door and her heart lurched as Dr. Parenti peeked his head in, a soft smile on his face. She immediately looked for signs of the results in his expression, though as a fertility doctor she also knew he was well versed in how to deliver this kind of news.

“Dana, would you like to sit down?”

That must mean it was bad, if he was suggesting she sit. She did as told and braced herself, already forming questions about her odds if she tried again; she knew she had more than one ova that had made it to blastocyst.

“Congratulations, you’re pregnant.” He had that same soft smile, his tone measured.

She heard a ringing in her ears and her heart seemed to stop momentarily.

“I’m sorry….what?”

“You’re pregnant. Your HCG levels are nice and high for 15 days post transfer. We can do an ultrasound in a few weeks and look for a heartbeat. You’re not entirely out of the woods, but so far everything looks very normal, and very healthy.”

Her slackened jaw gave way to a tentative smile, her expression incredulous.

“I’m pregnant? You’re sure?”

“Quite sure, we do this a lot here” he reassured with a chuckle.

“I…I’m a bit speechless, I’m sorry. I had prepared myself for bad news. What do I do now?”

“Just keep taking your prenatal vitamins, and your oral progesterone. We’ll have you taper off that in a couple weeks. Avoid any especially high impact activity, now isn’t the time to hit the slopes, but for the most part you can do whatever you normally do, while abstaining from alcohol, of course. Sex is perfectly fine, and healthy. You can make an appointment for three weeks out to do a transvaginal ultrasound, and if you experience any spotting or cramping, or any other symptom that concerns you, please call.”

“Okay, I will, thank you again Dr. Parenti. Thank you so much.” The initial shock was wearing off and she felt tears pooling in her eyes.

“It’s what I do. Feel free to use this room for a bit, if you need some time to absorb the good news. We’ll see you soon.”

He closed the door softly behind him and she was alone again, a pained smile etched on her face as tears ran down her cheeks. It worked. Somehow it had worked. She put her hand on her belly and imagined a tiny embryo nestled into the wall of her uterus. The cells duplicating, she and Mulder’s genes dancing together to form a little human who was half of each of them. She choked back sobs of relief and thought about picking up her cell phone to call him, but she wanted to wait. She wanted to see the look on his face as he realized what she was realizing. They were going to have a baby, the two of them, together. She would have a piece of him to keep and to love endlessly. Their child.

When she was finally able to compose herself, she walked out of the exam room and through the lobby with reddened eyes but a beaming smile. The couples in the waiting room all lifted their heads as she passed through, looking at her for a sign of hope as she had each time she was in the same seat. She met each of their eyes and gave an almost imperceptible nod. Good news. Yes. They all seemed to relax a little. Maybe it was their turn next.

She drove across town to Mulder’s apartment with the radio off and the window open, her heart bursting with the kind of hope she hadn’t experienced in years, maybe ever. For as many times as she’d wondered where she took a wrong turn in life that brought her to a point where a family of he own seemed impossible, she had never imagined how sweet it would be when it did happen. As she turned on to his street, her heart thrummed in her ears and the nauseous feeling returned. She was pretty confident this would strike him as great news, but was also a little worried that he’d react with fear or regret. Maybe he’d only agreed because he assumed it wouldn’t take. This possibility meant that by the time she was standing outside his door, hand raised to knock, she had steeled herself against disappointment if he didn’t respond happily. She was businesslike, sharing a test result with him as she had 100 times, this test just happened to affect them both more than the others did. He flung the door open before she’d finished knocking, as though he’d been waiting for her. He looked her over and took in her puffy, red eyes and solemn expression, his own face dropping in understanding. He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, pulling her to him so he could wrap her in a hug while kicking the door shut behind her. She leaned into him, pressing the side of her face to his chest and threading her arms around his waist. He smelled like home.

“It’s okay Scully, we can try again.”

The ‘we’ in his statement did not go unnoticed. She smiled against him, her nervousness giving way to excitement as she gained confidence that his response would be a happy one. She laughed a little and he pulled away from her, his hands still on her shoulders, looking at her quizzically. She smiled a dopey, twisted smile and new tears welled, blurring the image of his deepening confusion.

“It worked, Mulder.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, trying to make sense of her words, her demeanor, her concurrent tears and smile.

“It worked. I’m pregnant.”

His eyebrows, which had been knotted in confusion, leapt up in surprise as his mouth slowly opened in an expression of shock, then stretched into a wide smile. Watching him realize what she had come to know in the exam room, that they were going to have a baby, together, was even better than experiencing it herself.

“You’re pregnant? You’re going to have a baby? We’re going to have a baby? You’re sure?”

She beamed at him and nodded enthusiastically, the ‘we’ in his words again filling her heart to bursting. Maybe he did want this with her, as more than just a donor. He pulled her to him again, squeezing her tightly as he pressed his nose to her hair and rocked gently back and forth. His joy was palpable, and she found it hard to believe that minutes ago she had feared that he’d be upset. She dug her nails into the flesh of his back and let her tears of happiness wet his shirt, not feeling a shred of discomfort at what was a very uncharacteristic amount of physical contact between them. This was exactly where she was supposed to be, right here in his foyer, next to his dining room table covered with junk mail and abandoned research papers, learning that the things she wanted from life were still available to her, with the man she loved, no less.

Mulder pulled back again, this time bringing his hands up to cup her face, and she was surprised to see that his own eyes were damp as well. She wasn’t sure if his joy was for her, or himself, or both, but the love in his gaze was undeniable. She placed her hands gently on his wrists and stroked his knuckles with her thumbs, returning his look. When he leaned forward and placed a kiss on her forehead, she closed her eyes and sighed. When he placed yet another kiss on one cheek, then the other, her pulse quickened. When he placed his lips softly on hers, she felt the ache of 1,000 times she’d wanted to kiss him run down her body, exiting through her toes and spilling out on to the floor. She kissed him back, partly because she couldn’t not, and partly because she desperately needed him to know that she wanted this, that it wasn’t a mistake. He released her lips and rested his forehead against hers, moving his hands to her waist, hers finding their home at the back of his neck, gently tracing his hairline.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this happy in my entire life” he whispered to her, and she laughed with the knowledge that she had given him that, that they had created this moment together, for both of them.

“Can I kiss you again?” The question was so earnest, and so hopeful, it tore at her heart. How could he ever think the answer to that could be no?

Instead of answering him, she pushed up to her tip toes and gently pulled on his neck, bringing him to her. She tried to make it as sweet and chaste as his kiss had been, but the un-sated desire of 7 years and the heightened emotion of the moment got the better of her and she devoured his lips, tugging at them with her teeth and tasting them with her tongue. She felt his hands slide a little lower until they rested just above the swell of her ass, and the resulting throb between her legs made her wonder how early pregnancy hormones could affect her sex drive. He pulled away then, breathless with pupils the size of dinner plates, his lips swollen and moist.

“I’m sorry, is this okay? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable” he mumbled. As though she hadn’t been the one to put her tongue in his mouth. As though she hadn’t tipped her pelvis against his hungrily. He was so protective of her that he felt compelled to guard her from even himself.

“It’s more than okay, Mulder” she purred, already missing the salt of his sunflower seeds on her lips, already begging God or the universe that he should carry her to his bedroom. Full of wonder that only when his child was taking shape inside her could she find the courage to show him how she felt. Talk about putting the cart before the horse.

“Are you sure?” He asked, his eyes searching hers. She had the realization that he may have been wanting this just as much as she had. That they’d been standing together on the edge of the cliff, waiting for the other to jump first.

She met his gaze and let down every wall she had built around herself, hoping that he could see in her icy blue irises how completely she meant what she was going to say next. Hoping he could hear the hum in her body that he was responsible for. “I want you” she said, surprising herself with her own boldness. Having seen today what possibilities awaited her if she took a chance, she no longer wanted to take the safer path. If leaping off the cliff meant a baby with Mulder, maybe a life with him, she was prepared to hurl herself over the edge and accept the consequences.

His face crumpled a little, his mouth puckering with emotion. She recognized the way his chin pebbled and wondered if he was going to cry. The expression quickly passed and was replaced by a tender smile, though his eyes shone with dampness. “You’re really hitting it hard with life-changing news today” he teased.

“Go big or go home, Mulder.” She replied, leaning into him and brushing her lips lightly against his. Her calves were tired from propping her up to meet his height and it was the closest she could comfortably get.

“Will you stay a while?” He asked, ever the gentleman, not wanting to assume anything about what would happen next.

She said nothing, but nodded, and he released her, taking her hand and guiding her to sit beside him on the couch. She slipped her shoes off and kicked them underneath the coffee table, folding her legs under her her torso and gratefully sliding under the arm he extended to drape over her shoulders, nestling into his side. He took her hand and held her palm to his lips, sighing deeply, then placed their joined hands in his lap and kissed the top of her head. With her ear against his chest, she could hear the steady measure of his heart beating and felt an overwhelming sense of peace. She wasn’t naïve enough to think that this was her happy ending, but even just this moment where she had the knowledge that she was going to be a mother and Mulder returned her affection, it was enough. She knew well enough by now that she should cling to even the briefest glimpses of happiness and normalcy, because they were too often fleeting and untenable.

“How do you feel?” He asked her, and she wasn’t sure if he meant the pregnancy or the kiss, or both. Years of experience taught him that any inquiry into her state would be met with “I’m fine” 98% of the time, but he still always asked. He needed her to know that it mattered to him. She tipped her face up to look at his, no longer trying to conceal her feelings. It was incredibly freeing.

“Amazing” she answered, and she meant it. She couldn’t recall ever feeling better than she did right now.

He smiled at her, his own demeanor always being so impacted by hers, and lowered his head towards hers until their noses brushed together. “I love you” he whispered so quietly she wasn’t sure if she’d imagined it. She tucked her face back into his chest to conceal a yawn.

“Am I boring you?” He joked, and she chuckled, facing him again while she shook her head.

“I’m just suddenly exhausted” she remarked. How much had her life changed in the past couple hours? It’s was a lot to absorb.

“Wanna take a nap?!” He proposed with the same level of excitement he might normally ask “wanna go to Kentucky?!” Except this time, what he was offering actually sounded good.

“You don’t still have a water bed do you?” Her tone was skeptical, but also curious.

“Nope, I got a real mattress after the last one sprung a leak, at the insistence of my landlord.”

“In that case, sold.”

He stood and offered her his hands to help her off the couch. Without her shoes, the top of her head barely met the height of his armpits and he squeezed her to him, laughing. “Is your money on this kid being average height? Will we cancel each other out?”

“I don’t think that’s how genetics work, Mulder.” She replied, her words muffled against the fabric of his T shirt. Spitballing about whose traits their child would inherit was beyond what she ever could have hoped for. She wished she could bottle this moment up and save it forever.

He escorted her to his bedroom, never breaking contact with a hand on her arm or back. She let her sweater slide down her arms and folded it neatly before setting it on his dresser, and then lay down on her back on the bed. He took his place next to her, lying on his side with his head propped up under his arm. He tentatively reached out and placed his hand on her stomach, just above her belly button. She put her own hand on top of his and pushed it down until it was low on her pelvis and he could feel the hem of her panties underneath her dress.

“More like here” she corrected with a shy smile, very aware of the intimacy of where he was touching her.

“Guess I need to brush up on my anatomy” he said dryly, transfixed on the gentle rise and fall of her belly under his hand as she breathed. He rubbed his thumb back and forth and she stifled a gasp at the contact, apparently not well enough because he turned his head to look at her face. “You okay?” He asked, his tone tender. She nodded. “Does this bother you?” He inquired further, and she shook her head no, reaching up to touch his face so he knew she meant it.

Turning his attention back to his hand, he said “I wish you weren’t wearing a dress so I could see better.”

She laughed and his hand shook. “See what, Mulder? There’s nothing to see, not yet anyway.”

He looked at her sheepishly “I know, but it seems like bare skin is somehow closer to the real thing. I realize as I’m saying this that it doesn’t make any sense.”

“No, it doesn’t, but the things we want don’t always need to make sense.” Her voice had a faraway quality, like she was applying the logic to more than just this specific situation. “You know there’s this really cool thing dresses can do that you don’t appear to be privy to” she continued in a much more jovial tone. Pushing his hand off her, she flipped up the hem of her dress to reveal her stomach from the belly button down, including her pale pink lace panties. Mulder’s eyes went big momentarily before he tried to play it cool.

“That IS a neat trick” he marveled, forcing himself to look at her face. He tentatively put his hand back on her lower belly and her skin prickled up in goose flesh at his touch. His fingers danced over her flesh, tracing the place her uterus would be, imagining the tiny life growing there. Wordlessly, he dipped his head down and touched his lips to that place, causing her back to arch into him and her breath to catch in her throat. Mercifully, he didn’t ask if she was okay with what he was doing. She didn’t think she’d have been able to form words if he had. She felt his tongue hot and wet, darting out a trail up to her navel. She sighed, a tiny show of disappointment that he had traveled up instead of down. Bringing his face back near hers, he kissed her again, this time drawing it out, moving to her cheek and then her ear. Her neck and then her chest. She felt like she was floating.

“What do you want?” He whispered against her earlobe, grazing it with his teeth.

“Everything” she sighed. Every nerve ending in her body seemed to be on fire.

He moved over her, his elbows bracketing her rib cage and his knees just outside hers on the bed. Kissing down her throat, he made his way to the neckline of her dress, slipping his tongue just under the fabric to taste the flesh of her breasts before continuing. Shifting his weight to one arm, he pushed the hem of the dress up further, exposing her rib cage, and kissed every inch of her, giving extra attention to each scar. By the time he reached her belly button, her hands were in his hair, encouraging him on his journey. He again found the place where their baby grew, dropping kisses for each night he had prayed to a God he didn’t believe in that they would exist. His tongue flitted under the hem of her panties and her hips shifted slightly in response.

Lifting his head to look at her he asked “is this okay?” and she said “yes” with as much conviction as he had ever witnessed in her face.

“It won’t hurt the baby?” He questioned. He had to be sure. “No, it won’t hurt the baby” she replied, touched by his care almost as much as she was aroused by where this was headed.

He kissed the insides of her thighs, ran his nose along the crease of her leg, pressed it into the damp fabric of her panties and inhaled the smell of her want for him. Her hips were gyrating ever so gently, rebelling as she tried to temper her desire, resisting the overwhelming urge to beg him to fuck her immediately. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and asked “okay?,” waiting until she said yes before he pulled them down her legs, tossing them haphazardly over his shoulder. He followed the same path again, kissing her thighs, running his nose along the crease of her leg, and then concluding with a kiss to her labia. She sucked air into her lungs sharply and her fingers in his hair grasped and pulled. It may have hurt if he’d been paying any attention. If he hadn’t had more important things to attend to. Gingerly, he tried his tongue against her slick lips, tasting her wetness. God she was wet. He found her opening and lapped at it before sliding up to almost her clit. But not quite. Her head was thrown back, hiding her face from view, her back arching wildly, her fists gripping at his hair. She made tiny sounds; gasps and truncated moans. She was trying self-consciously to be quiet, something she always worried about since an ex had teased her about being loud. He explored her, pulling her lips between his, sliding his tongue through each crevice and fold, pushing it inside her until he earned a soft moan. Finally he flicked his tongue across her clit and she said “oh” in the most breathy, beautiful way that he thought he might cum in his jeans. He continued the motion, listening to her responses and increasing his pace until he felt her body tense. Gently, he slipped one finger inside her and she gasped just before he felt her muscles clamp around him, a single piercing cry escaping her lips as she began to pulse rhythmically. He continued to lick her and flex his finger softly inside, drawing out her orgasm and eliciting an “oh my god” which made him smile. He’d always wondered if she’d say that in bed. He’d always wanted to make her say it.

When the pulsing subsided, he carefully withdrew his finger and crawled back up to her. She had her eyes closed and was still breathing heavily. He pushed down the hem of her dress, feeling as though he should protect her modesty, even in light of what he’d just done. Nuzzling his face into her neck, he waited to see if she might fall asleep. After a few minutes she spoke.

“Mulder?”

“Hm.”

“I’m not sure this day could get any better.”

He laughed, and she joined him, rolling to her side so that they were face to face, her leg threading between his while her hand wrapped around his waist. He brushed her hair from her face and kissed the tip of her nose tenderly.

“Thank you” she whispered, her voice full of emotion.

“For what?”

She shrugged, her voice caught in her throat. “For everything” she rasped out.

He shook his head. “You are everything, Scully. Thank you for letting me be a part of it.”

She nestled against his chest, taking comfort in the circles he traced on her back until she drifted off to sleep.

[queenoffanfictions]

Just a Midgardian (Loki x reader)

Chapter 5 of Just a Midgardian

Summary: Loki leads you to the balcony, but will things go as planned?

AN: Tell me if you want to be tagged! You can find my work on ao3, my account of you prefer to read it there: 4ever76 (I also write for the Mandalorian with my other blog queenofspades6)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

***

Breathing was becoming harder as Loki kept running and pulling your arm. You took a minute to glance at the crowd, and saw that people were all staring at you, dumbstruck by what they were seeing. The prince had fled with the Midgardian. They couldn’t believe their ears, they were gods and goddesses, and yet, the God of Mischief chose you over his peers. You. A mortal.

Loki dragged you to the balcony, his hand still in yours. When you stopped running, you first steadied your breath, and then crossed Loki’s gaze. His ocean eyes were mesmerizing. Words weren’t needed. The silence was a language the two of you mastered perfectly. At first, you stood still, observing the God of Mischief from a distance. He was leaning on the balcony, his arms on the cold marble, and his gaze lost towards the horizon. You tried your best to memorize his features in the dark, how his head was slowly bending, and how his eyes were wandering towards the royal garden. You didn’t know why but, seeing him like this made you feel at peace. Loki looked relaxed. For the first time, he wasn’t on his guard, as he usually was around everyone. Without wasting a thought, you walked towards him and leaned on the balcony. You couldn’t see Loki’s face, though, you knew he was smirking. Loki and you were staring at the trees lit by the stars. There was something unspoken between the two of you hanging on the air, waiting for the perfect time. But would it ever come?

“Loki.”

”Y/N.” Loki said with a husky voice.

Waiting for him to face you, you slowly stroked the marble of the balcony with your fingertips. Loki watched you and took your hand in his. He kept his gaze on your pale hand and then kissed your knuckles like he had done in the ballroom not long ago.

Feeling the air getting warmer, you closed your eyes, focusing on the sensation of Loki’s soft lips on your skin. He was kissing your fingers one by one, and you suddenly whimpered. Embarrassed, you looked up and saw Loki breathing hard.

It was now obvious the two of you wanted each other but was it more than lust? Was it about pleasure? Or was it something deep? Something Loki had not felt since a long time ago.

Without realizing it, you bent lower until your nose was touching Loki’s. Your eyes were still watching his every move, and you could now feel his warm breath.

“Loki! I—”Thor shouted before discovering his brother and you about to kiss each other.

Loki pulled over quickly while you took some steps back, a bit disappointed.

“I am sincerely sorry to interrupt, but I need to speak to you, Loki.” Thor said, scratching his head, and avoiding your gaze.

“You are not interrupting anything. Do tell, Thor.”

At the God of Mischief’s words, your heart shattered in pieces. Loki had asked you to stay in Asgard for him, he had defended you against his father, he had been locked up in his old cell for you… And when you would have finally kissed, Loki said that it was nothing.

Frowning, you clenched your fists.

Clear worry on his face, Thor took a glance at you, and then at Loki.

“You can speak in front of Y/N, Thor.”

“Father knows Y/N is attending the ball.” Thor muttered solemnly.

“Obviously.”

“Are you completely aware of what it means, brother? Y/N wasn’t supposed to draw everyone’s attention because of you. I thought you were clever, Loki! You have not danced with one single woman until Y/N appears, you suddenly asks her to dance. How do you think Father will take this? This ball was a way for us to find our future wives, and you didn’t even dance with one Asgardian woman! Odin will make Y/N pay, Loki, do you understand that or are you always so stubborn and selfish?”Thor declared, his eyebrows raised, and concern written all over his face.

“It won’t change anything, Thor. Father wants to get rid of me, and these women, they don’t want me! They want wealth and fame. I would not give Odin the satisfaction of marrying such women, whether they are Asgardian or not.”Loki declared with a sharp tone.

Thor shrugged and you watched the two brothers, feeling helpless.

“Loki… I understand, but you could at least pretend. You are the God of Mischief after all, why weren’t you pretending to be the perfect host and dance with the women Father have chosen for you? It involves nothing more, you could pretend to enjoy the ball, and then Father would have been pleased.”Thor revealed, still trying to reason with his brother, even though he knew it was hopeless.

“For how long Father would have been pleased? Don’t you think I have enough of pretending? I pretended to be someone I was not my whole life, so why can’t I just be myself for once, without thinking about what people will think.”

Thor sighed and pleaded you to intervene with his eyes. You didn’t dare open your mouth. It was between Thor and Loki. Not you. Not this time.

“So who are you, Loki?”Thor questioned, a small grin appearing on his lips.

“I-I don’t know… I am trying to figure it out.”Loki whispered, now gazing at the horizon.

“You need to figure it out as soon as possible... For everyone’s sake.”

Thor muttered something to Loki. You tried to listen but you didn’t hear anything.

“Now, I let the two of you be alone. You have been warned, Loki.”

Thor glanced at you with a knowingly look, and then left.

Loki leaned again on the balcony, lost in thoughts. It was when you saw his eyebrows rising several times that you realized Loki was fighting himself and his demons. He was hurting, but like always, he was pretending to look strong, to be emotionless…

You approached him, and when he didn’t react, you pressed yourself against him, feeling the side of his armor against your dress. He finally looked up.

“Loki.”

Nothing.

“Loki. Look at me.”

Still nothing.

“Please, Loki. Please.”

Avoiding your gaze, you saw him heading towards the ballroom. He was going to let you alone again. You were the closest person Loki had, and yet, sometimes, he remained distant.

“Loki! No!”

But this time, you wouldn’t let him.

You ran to him, and without thinking twice, you stroked his chin with your hand, and then pressed your lips against his. At first, you sensed him tense under your touch, and you thought he was going to pull over, though, he put his hand on your waist and gave in to the kiss. You felt his tongue on your lips and opened your mouth further to give him access. Still kissing you, Loki caressed your back slowly and brought you closer to him. Feeling your two bodies pressed against each other, you moaned. Loki watched you with wide eyes, and smirking, he kissed your neck, and then sucked on it. You whimpered again. How many times had you imagined Loki kissing you? And now the two of you were finally giving in to your deepest desires.

“Loki...I—”You murmured.

Concerned, he plunged his eyes into yours. You took his hand quickly while Loki was stroking your neck, and then he pressed his soft lips against yours again. You smiled, knowing this time he was the one who initiated the kiss.

“What do you think the two of you are doing?”

Suddenly, you pulled apart from Loki, and to your surprise, Odin, the Allfather was standing still in front of you, hands on his hips.

“Bringing a Midgardian to Asgard, dancing with her, and now you are kissing her, Loki! That is enough! How dare you! I organized this ball to find you a suitable woman and here you are, playing with that weak mortal.”

And just like that, you knew that you would have to pay the price for kissing Loki.

How something so pleasant could be forbidden?

Tag List:

@kiara-36

[combat-wombatus]

afterglow // part ii: the fighting

Pairing: Sawamura Daichi x gn!reader

Warnings: fighting (just any generic fight scene really), blood, minor snark??

WC: 2.1k (this is a lot longer than the previous chapter hehe)

(A/N): hehehe part 2 is finally up :p (also check out the series masterlist with the updated synopsis!! quite proud of it >.<) also please ignore the bad titles,, i had an "f" alliteration theme going on and i literally killed all my brain cells trying to come up with SIX verbs that were at least somewhat relevant to the plot for the chapter titles, i'm so sorry asldkjhlfadksh

series masterlist || haikyuu masterlist || bnha masterlist || navi

read part i here!

Finally…

You stared ahead at the encampment of soldiers, bustling about merrily as if they found joy in living a life of slaughter. As if they had no blood on their hands—or worse, as if they did not care if they did.

“Houyi.” You stroked his neck. “Ready?”

He gave a snort of agreement, tossing his black mane in the air.

I was born for this, he seemed to say.

“Alright.” Digging your heels in, you leaned forward, bow in hand, arrow notched and at the ready.

“Hiya!”

You charged furiously down the hill, kicking up a storm of clay-red dust behind you. As the first soldier looked up in surprise, you aimed your arrow at the wooden post in the middle of the camp and let it fly. You were nothing if not fair, and though you despised these people with your entire being, it would never be said that you fought dirty. Surprise attacks were for the weak, and you were anything but.

Besides, you kind of wanted to see how fast you could take the camp, even with the soldiers alert and ready to fight.

Holding your bow sideways, you let loose three arrows at once, all of them hitting their marks. Three men went down with barely a whimper—an arrow to one’s kneecap will do that.

The soldiers were a mess. You weren’t even sure if they were real soldiers or simply a very large band of mercenaries—surely a real military camp would be much more organized than this. They should’ve sounded the alarm as soon as they saw you charging down the hill, not when three of their men were already down.

You took out three more men with another round of clean shots to the kneecap.

This is too easy.

They were green; young, inexperienced, and jittery—no match for a seasoned hunter.

And you were one of the very best.

You set loose arrow after arrow, hitting your target every single time. Within moments, the area in front of you was empty, save for the men curled up on the ground, groaning.

Houyi slowed down to a trot, and you casually dropped from the saddle, stepping over the fallen soldiers. A white command tent was front and center in the little military camp, no more than five hundred meters away. Slinging your bow over your shoulder crossways—it wasn’t ideal for close-range combat—you unsheathed two scimitars, preparing yourself for a scuffle.

It wasn’t your favorite type of battle—close-range battles were messy and bloody—but you hadn’t had a chance to spar with someone in a long time.

You were also craving revenge for what they had done to the broken village you passed.

Barely concealing a feral grin, you stalked towards the commander’s tent. Suddenly, the tent entrance ruffled, and a man stepped out in full armor, save for his helmet. His hair was a stiff charcoal black—it was shorn short, which was surprising for a man of his presumed station. Most men in this dynasty preferred to wear their hair long, but there was something curious about this one. Tanned olive skin revealed a life spent in the sun, and a grim, determined expression glared at you with unbridled fury.

You bared your teeth and tightened your grip on your scimitars. This was going to be fun.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He clasped his hand over a broadsword sheathed at his side, pulling it out with the signature clang of steel sliding against steel. “Who are you?”

“Vengeance,” you replied airily. The man frowned, looking confused.

One…

You smiled, the wicked grin gracing your lips matching the wicked curve of your scimitar.

Two…

Your hood flew back, revealing you in all of your glory. You didn’t mind. You were confident that none of these people—scum—would live to tell others what you looked like, anyways.

Three…

You charged.

No battle cry surged from your lips—silent hunting habits were hard to break—but as he met the first slash of your blades with the side of his broadsword, you grunted at his strength.

Not many people could withstand one of your attacks, much less both at the same time.

This was going to be fun.

Quickly sliding one of your scimitars from underneath the deadlock, you twirled it around in your hand and aimed a slice straight at his torso. He stepped to the side, twisting his own broadsword so that it knocked your other blade to the side. Instead of continuing to retreat, he slanted his body at a forward tilt, catching your right wrist with his hand while pushing your other hand aside with his sword.

You hissed in pain as he twisted your wrist, forcing you to drop your blade. Feinting with your left hand, you sliced a deep gash on his right thigh, right in between two metal plates of armor. His grip on your wrist loosened, and you were able to put some distance between the two of you.

You charged forwards again, aiming your remaining scimitar low, towards his knees. He dropped into a defensive crouch, broadsword held out low in front of him. You smiled.

Just as he was preparing to meet your blade in a clash of steel, you jumped. Leaping upwards, you stepped on his wrist—he dropped his sword with a clang—and hooked your left leg around his waist, using it to pivot on his back. Wrapping your right arm around his broad shoulder, you brought your blade up until the tip of it kissed his neck.

He gulped, the movement drawing forth a slight trickle of crimson blood.

“Why? Why did you do it?”

He eyed the blade warily. You loosened it slightly so he could talk.

“Do what?” he asked, though his attention was caught on the fine workmanship of the scimitar.

“Kill all those people.” Your little scuffle had attracted quite the crowd—understandable, since it seemed like this man was somewhat of an important figure in this camp. Still, none of his comrades—or underlings—dared interfere, seeing as you were the one with the upper hand here; you could slit his throat before one of them even took three steps forwards.

“We haven’t killed anyone…yet,” he answered, confusion laced in his tone. “I’m overseeing trainees. They aren’t ready to fight.”

Ah. That explained the incompetence of the soldiers.

“But the village…?” You frowned, brows scrunching up in confusion. There was no mistaking what you had seen.

His expression darkened. “We came too late.”

Oh.

Cautiously, you lowered your blade from his neck. Yes—it made sense. He was obviously dressed in imperial commanding gear. Why would imperial soldiers slaughter their own village?

Well, now you felt a little silly—and guilty—for attacking their encampment without having done your proper research.

The other men gingerly stepped forwards.

“General Sawamura! You’re losing a lot of blood!” A young soldier with hair the color of a bright carrot pointed out worriedly. “You should probably go to the tent…Dr. Azumane can treat you there.”

The general nodded in agreement, wincing slightly as you hopped off of his back. He walked towards the medical tent, obviously trying his best not to limp.

As he left, it became clear that the other soldiers were unsure of what they should do with you.

A man with hair the color of pewter and a cute mole under his left eye (you assumed that he was the second-in-command) led you to the general’s tent, where you awaited his arrival. Minutes later, he hobbled inside the tent, limping, but proud.

“I thought you had to get your leg treated,” you remarked, noticing the lack of bandages on his thigh, blood still dripping in rivulets down his leg and marking pools on the dusty ground. “So impatient to see me already?”

“Had to make sure you weren’t going to run away,” he answered, a defiant light sparking in his charcoal eyes. “After all, you did take down nearly twenty of my men.”

The corner of your mouth quirked up, a ghost of a smile teasing your lips. “Oh?”

Before he could respond, the entrance to the tent fluttered again, and a large man—even taller than the general—scurried in, his chestnut hair gathered at the nape of his neck. He seemed unduly nervous for someone with such a large physique.

“Ah, doctor,” the general greeted him. “Thank you for coming.”

So this was Dr. Azumane, you realized. From his bulk, you would’ve assumed that he was one of the finest soldiers here. Apparently not.

“You should’ve waited,” the doctor said, staring reproachfully at the general’s leg.

“It appears that we have a flight risk on our hands,” General Sawamura countered. “I couldn’t very well just let them go.”

You bristled. “I wouldn’t have run! And besides, your soldiers could have swarmed me in seconds if I tried!”

“Thank you for the assurance,” he quipped drily. “I will take that into consideration the next time someone barges into our camp”—he winced as the doctor tightened his bandages—“and shoots arrows into my sentries’ knees.”

Okay. Fair point.

“Well, I followed you guys from the town, so forgive me if I mistook you for the raiders that slaughtered an entire village,” you countered, though you did feel a slight twinge of guilt.

His expression darkened, a muscle in his jaw ticking at what was probably an unpleasant memory. The doctor looked up worriedly, tying off the last knot in the bandage and leaving the tent, presumably on his way to treat the other unfortunate soldiers who had stood in the face of your wrath.

“We had nothing to do with that village. Not anymore.”

“Not anymore?”

There was a storm brewing in his eyes, and you wondered if you had pried too far into events you did not yet understand.

“My father was guarding the mountain pass. They were taken unaware by the Huns,” he said, after a long silence.

Your breath constricted in your throat.

“Oh.” It came out like a whisper, the only air you could force past your lips.

“Don’t be,” he said curtly. “You weren’t there either. You couldn’t have helped.”

Settling back on the cushions, he sighed before changing the subject.

“So what are you, exactly? An outlaw? Fugitive?” He leaned closer, squinting. “A mercenary?”

Well, you supposed he could put it that way.

“Nomad,” you answered simply, not knowing exactly what you were yourself.

“Not a Hun, anyways,” the general regarded you critically. “I saw the scimitars. Huns don’t use those, and even if they did, they looked far too well-crafted. Not meant for brute force, anyways.”

You had spent many moons trading pelts and herbs to earn enough jade to purchase the twin weapons from the finest blacksmith you knew. They were custom-ordered, the grips fitted to the exact measurements of your palms—your most treasured possessions.

“Your horse is in the stable, by the way.” The general shifted his weight on the cushions in the tent. “He’s a fine horse, that one.”

You nodded in agreement. A man who didn’t appreciate horses was not worth talking to at all.

“Can I get my sword back?” you asked with as much politeness as you could muster.

He stared at you, then raised an eyebrow. “You want your sword back? In my camp? After you attacked my men? When we still don’t know where your loyalties lie?”

You gave a huff of irritation. “Well, I told you it was a mistake, wasn’t it? And my swords are rather important to me.”

“And my life is rather important to me,” he retorted.

“General, should I take their other one as well?” the gray-haired man interrupted, stepping forwards. You had almost forgotten that he was in the room—he had been silent ever since he’d brought you here. Narrowing your eyes, you laid a hand threateningly on the hilt of your scimitar. The general eyed you appraisingly, then held up a hand.

“I don’t think they’d take too kindly to that. Best leave it be for now. But you will not”—he directed a pointed glance at your hand, still clasped over the grip of your remaining scimitar—“under any circumstances, use that against my men. Or me,” he added, apparently not trusting you to not find loopholes.

“Can I still have my other one back?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“But you let me keep this one!”

“Yes, because you would’ve slit both of our throats if any of us tried to take it from you, and you know it.”

“…fine.”

And so it was on a fine sunny afternoon that you found yourself being corralled into a soldier’s tent, held on a temporary tent arrest.

Oops?

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