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florencemtrash · 8 months ago

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The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Eighteen

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Nothing super specific, but things get pretty dark (at least in my opinion). Mentions of torture.

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Azriel grabbed Rhys by the front of his jacket, hands shaking horribly despite all his efforts to stop. It had started this morning, when another disastrous attempt to talk to Andrian had left Azriel with his mind in shambles, knife pressed against his own throat. It had been going on for weeks now. Someway, somehow, Andrian would find a way to break through Azriel’s defenses and force him to relieve his worst memories. Sometimes he dreamt of his burning hands. Mostly he thought of you, and the day he’d nearly killed you.

“Tell me you didn’t,” Azriel growled desperately. “Tell me!”

It was too easy for him to pick out when his brother was speaking with Feyre, and something about the way Rhysand had been looking at him— like he was a fraction of a second away from splintering into a million pieces — told Azriel enough about who had been sent for. You were the only one who could calm him. The only one who could do what he and Rhys had failed to do.

Violet eyes shone from a perfectly handsome face. A face he knew too well. A face that he wanted to punch right now.

“I’m afraid I can’t, brother,” Rhysand responded gravely.

Azriel slammed his fist against the wall instead, taking out a chunk of granite that spit grey dust into the air. He swore beneath his breath, pacing the hallway and trying to steady his racing heart. He’d never wanted you to see this place. He’d never even wanted you to step foot on the island above, its rolling peaks a stark contrast to the tunnels below where Azriel conducted his business. Business that stained his hands a thousand shades of red.

“You’ve been working yourself ragged, Az, and Andrian still hasn’t said anything. Not to you. Not to me. We need to know all we can about Koschei. Vassa’s on the brink of madness. Henna’s dead. I can’t even get past Andrian’s mental wards. What the fuck are we meant to do?”

“So you thought to go behind my back and bring Y/n into this?! She’s not something for you to use, Rhys.”

“She’s already in this mess.” Rhys reminded him, as he often did. His eyes softened as he looked to the locked door at the end of the hall with its small, rectangular window. Bars breaking up the lamplight glowing from within. “And you know she’d agree this is the best course of action. She’ll be able to do it.”

Azriel’s hands shook. “Give me another week and I’ll get us the information we need. Tell Feyre to turn around. Don’t bring Y/n here.” Don’t let her see this part of me.

“The boy doesn’t have another week. He doesn’t even have a day.”

The shaking traveled throughout Azriel’s entire body. His eyes darkened and he began the process of hiding his heart away within the void that curled inside of him. That wicked beast that was always on the verge of swallowing him whole.

Feyre winnowed you both to the outskirts of the northern territories and you went from sweating in your fur-lined leathers to shivering in the knee deep snow. The Illyrian Mountains rose behind you like predatorial rows of shark teeth and the endless sea stretched in front, slate grey and empty except for lonely ripples of sea foam. Through the frosty haze you could make out a smattering of islands, each with their own tooth-like tips capped with snow and ice. Feyre looked at you, her eyes leaning more towards blue now that she’d tapped into the Winter Court’s power to stave off the cold.

The Warren was protected by wards that made winnowing impossible, so you let Feyre scoop you up in her powerful arms, wings growing from her back like unfurling shadows before the ground dropped away from her feet and she took off into the sky.

You clung to her shoulders, eyes slamming shut so you wouldn’t have to look down at the churning black waters and the rocks they crashed against. If you were to fall now, you could only hope you drown before the waves ripped your body to pieces against the rocks like meat torn between a pair of canines.

You stayed frozen and tight as a coil until the rush of wind stopped and you no longer felt your stomach creeping up into your throat. You could have dropped to your knees and kissed the ground if you weren’t sure your lips would freeze there. You did shove your hands into the gritty sand though, breathing slowly through your nose until you finally had the strength to stand.

Feyre led you down the long stretch of beach, waves whistling in the wind — a haunting, beautiful melody, like a woman crying.

Azriel had discovered The Warren centuries ago. After a particularly brutal brawl that had left him with a broken arm and cracked ribs, he’d taken to the skies, desperate to escape the hard packed floors and burning scent of sex mixed with alcohol that seemed to invade every corner of the Windhaven barracks. He’d been fighting over a woman, a woman that had been dragged into the rowdy common room trembling with the telltale sign of a whisky haze over her burnt umber eyes, dress ripped and muddy.

Did it even matter that he’d brought her back untouched to that leaning house with its wooden slabs frosted over and the chimney coughing up black smoke like a diseased lung? Azriel had wondered as he flew without a destination in mind. And when he’d finally collapsed on the island, frozen ground beneath his hands and knees and spitting out blood from his cut up gums, his shadows had tugged him towards the gaping mouth of The Warren, urging him to explore a darkness that was his and his alone. It had been his escape. A safe place in the world that had so few. But when Rhysand became High Lord and he the Spymaster, Azriel hadn’t hesitated to give up The Warren in the service of the Night Court, adding it to the long list of sacrifices he made so that he might actually start to feel like he deserved his place with his family.

You stilled in front of The Warren’s entrance, black walls glittering and damp from sea spray. Jagged, cracked bone rocks hovered overhead like axes ready to fall, jutting out of a cliffside and curling over the beach in the shape of a hunched back or an unhinged jaw. Wind whistled from within like asthma — high-pitched and keening.

“This is where you keep all your prisoners.” You weren’t asking a question, merely stating a fact.

Feyre had had little time for explanations back at the House. She’d focused on defending your body against the frigid cold to come, her mind split between you and Rhysand as he worried over Azriel from miles away.

“Not all of them. Only the ones Azriel finds useful.”

“The ones he plans to torture for information.”

From somewhere deep within the earth you swore you heard the clanging of chains, a growl, and a desperate groan that had the hair on your neck rising.

Feyre’s usual warmth was gone, replaced by something with more tact and less care. “This isn’t a place for the faint of heart, Y/n. And neither is Azriel. He’s tried to hide this from you, but it’s as much a part of him as anything else and if you care for him as much as I believe you do, you’re going to need to get used to this.”

There was the faintest flicker of doubt in your heart. “Andrian… he’s just a boy… you haven’t—Az hasn’t—”

“No,” Feyre said quickly. Horrified. “Azriel found him weeks ago trying to slip back into Day Court. We brought him here because it’s the most heavily warded place in Prythian and because the world needs to be protected from him as much as he needs to be protected from the world.” She grabbed your hands. They felt cold as ice. “Y/n. I swear to you, we haven’t hurt that boy. We won’t hurt him.”

“I know. I just… I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.” Already you felt sick to your stomach just for asking. Azriel was many things — dangerous, cruel to those he felt were deserving of it, maybe even murderous at times — but he was still Az… and you weren’t afraid. Not even as you let Feyre lead you into The Warren, and you were swallowed whole.

The mouth of the cave quickly narrowed into a tunnel before turning at a severe angle and twisting like a corkscrew downward. If it weren’t for you and Feyre’s glowing bodies, you might have missed one of The Warren’s slick steps and tumbled down forever.

You passed by two offshoots, each branching out into their own secret tunnels that whispered and echoed and smelled faintly of blood. Coppery and sour.

One of the rooms you walked through smelled like metal and limestone. The rust-colored ground and drain in the center of the floor told you all you needed to know about its purpose and before you could stop yourself, before you could even think about whether this was truly a good idea, you found yourself pressing a hand against one of the chains hanging from the ceiling.

If Feyre was right and this was truly a part of Azriel — something horrible that needed to come with all of the good that he was — then you wanted to know. You felt that you had some right to know, and if it was the power the Mother had granted you, then you would use it when you saw fit.

Feyre froze when your power flooded the room without warning, feeling the energy and fury radiating off your skin without even turning to look at you. You kept the memories a safe distance away, but drank in the knowledge of every horrible hand that had hung from that ceiling like you were reading a list of names from a book. You read their crimes. You read every drop of blood that Azriel had spilled on the ground.

“Y/n?” Feyre asked tentatively, fearfully, when you blinked and released the chain.

She had every hope the bond would snap in place for you soon and that you’d help end Azriel’s centuries of loneliness. That you might be the one to finally show him he was deserving of kindness. But to love Azriel as he was, with all his rough edges and the pain he could inflict as much as he carried… it was not for the faint of heart.

“I understand why Azriel wanted to hide this place from me. This part of him,” you said quietly and to no one in particular. Not even to Feyre. “But he shouldn’t have.” Your eyes turned harder than stone. “They deserved it. Each and every one of them.”

Feyre stood, shocked into silence, and it wasn’t until you gripped her arm and nudged her into the next room that she found she was able to walk again.

You passed by more hallways and more rooms, some disturbingly clean and empty, others with chains hanging from the ceiling or littered on the floor. But the strangest part was, you could smell Azriel within these cramped walls, and that alone made you quicken your steps.

You chased that familiar scent, walking confidently through the dark and passing Feyre until you were spit out in a long, neat tunnel with one metal door at the end. Tendrils of shadow flickered from around the corner.

“Azriel?”

Your heart pounded in your chest when you saw him leaning against the wall, hands folded behind his back. Rhys’s eyes flickered to you, then to his mate as she followed closely behind. Azriel stiffened, his eyes locked and heavy. Shadows tugged at his eyes and accentuated the sharpness of his cheeks. He looked like he hadn’t slept since the day he left you… which wasn’t so far from the truth. Because the whole time he’d been here, he’d been thinking of you, and the ways you might hate him for what he did and the sick corners of his soul. For—

You sailed into his arms, wrapping yourself around his torso and pressing your face into the hollow of his neck. Part of your mind chastised you, calling you silly and desperate as it reminded you it had only been ten days since you’d last seen him. But you didn’t care. It felt far longer than that. Too long.

You needed this almost as much as he did.

You disappeared behind his wings, cocooned safely in membranous folds and shadows that kissed your skin. Azriel himself buried his face in your hair, feeling some of his worst worries dissipate. You hadn’t run away. You hadn’t been so disgusted as to leave just yet.

“Y/n,” he murmured your name before kissing your temple. “Gods, I missed you.”

“I would hope so.” You murmured into the curve of his jaw, “I might be a boring bookworm but I’m better company than this place.”

Azriel winced. “You have no idea.”

You missed the pointed look that Rhys and Feyre threw your way, but Azriel didn’t. He was tall enough to see over your head as Feyre pointed to the door at the end of the hallway, eyes glistening. They had come here for a purpose, and the sooner it was over with, the sooner they could all go home.

Azriel’s arms tightened around you. “I didn’t want you to come here. I didn’t want… I didn’t want you to see the things I do.”

“I know.” You traced the curve of his jaw, thumb smoothing over his cheek. “But I’m not afraid, Azriel.”

His eyes flickered from fear to relief to love, like one of those picture books you had to flip through to see the scene play out.

“You’re not?”

You shook your head no. Then you kissed him on the lips and whispered the words for him and him alone. “I trust you. You’re the most terrifying thing here anyway, and you’re mine.”

Yours.

Azriel quitel liked the sound of that.

Even here in the dungeons burrowed beneath empty frozen lands, Azriel found it within him to hope. Horrid creatures might be hidden elsewhere, creeping like slugs under the earth that he’d have to crush beneath his boot or tear treasured secrets from, but for now you were still by his side. For now you were still his and he would always be yours.

You looped your arm through his and moved towards that door at the end of the hallway, steeling yourself for what you already knew was behind it.

The light from the barred window flashed warm and cool then warm again. Light warped and pranced. The scent of rot hung in the air, humid and choking. You touched the door handle, feeling the magic fall away like it recognized you and opened up into a makeshift, but quaint bedroom. There were no windows here for there was nothing to see below ground, but some of Feyre’s landscape paintings hung on the wall. Faelights bloomed overhead, throwing light and heat on a child’s bed with green sheets, a table, and a bookcase overflowing with an assortment of puzzles and novels and toys. You felt your blood turn cold. They’d once belonged to Nyx before being repurposed for the little boy trembling on the floor.

You stared at him in horror.

The little boy who’d been so violently bright that morning in the marketplace was dull. Although he was wearing fresh clothes, his skin had turned a stone gray, black marks dotting his once silken, silver skin like a disease. He was aware of his condition, weeping on the plush rug cut in the shape of a flower as he batted at his arms, willing them to turn healthy again.

“No no no no no no,” he sobbed. He grabbed at his pillowy hair in frustration and tugged. A cloud of fragile strands came away and he cried harder, trying to stick them back to his scalp.

Rhysand’s face was broken and pale. He tried not to look at Andrian. He was too young. Reminded him too much of his own son.

“You were right.” Rhysand’s voice was hollow, laced with a pain that grabbed your throat and squeezed. “Koschei did kill him. He’s been dead this whole time.”

“NO!” Andrian screamed. “HE DIDN’T! HE PROTECTED ME!”

Fat tears rolled out of filmy eyes, dusty and brown as pond water. Rage filled him with new energy and he tried to attack your mind as he’d already done with Azriel. But there was something altogether different about your magic, something flexible that morphed and rearranged your mental walls until it felt like he was trying to attack himself.

He gave up when your walls didn’t fall, and chose the physical route instead. You recoiled as he took a swipe, bony arms reaching out in an awkward lunge. But his legs were too weak and crumpled beneath him. He looked like a fish laid out to rot on a summer day — bloated and slick.

“Koschei brought him back to life for his powers—”

“HE LOVES ME! PAPA LOVES ME!”

“To use as he saw fit when the time was right.”

“But he can’t survive being separated for so long from Koschei’s power, can he?”

Just like Vassa. Left on their own without their maker they couldn’t handle the curses that had been placed on them. They’d bend until they broke… unless they found another way…

“The killings,” You murmured as the pieces slowly fell into place, “He killed those Librarians and the tailor and the florist…” You didn’t want to be right about this. You prayed to the Mother that you were wrong.

But Azriel read the thoughts in your eyes and nodded. Feyre could only stand still and Rhysand couldn’t do more than speak out in that dead voice of his.

Andrian had killed those fae, not just to send a message, but because that was the price for going against nature, for being brought back from the dead. Power demanded balance. To stay alive, Andrian had needed others to take his place. Those Librarians and the Velarians hadn’t been murdered. They’d been sacrificed.

What Koschei had done to this boy — what he’d turned him into — made you want to crawl into a dark corner and stay there forever.

Andrian’s sobs died out. A crack of lightning followed by unnerving silence that had Azriel’s blood freezing in his veins. Andrian wasn’t much older than he’d been when he’d first been tossed into that dark cellar. When his brothers had set his hands aflame.

“He loves me,” he declared, as if saying it would make it true. He stayed curled up in a ball on the floor, rocking back and forth on his heels. “He stayed when Henna left me. He wasn’t afraid of me like the others. He took care of me.”

But Koschei hadn’t taken care of him. He’d taught Andrian to love him. To worship him, because that’s what he craved above all else. He’d helped the boy control his powers and had allowed him to live so he could send him off to die when it was most convenient. You’d thought Henna was Koschei’s perfect soldier, but you were wrong. Andrian was. He’d been broken and molded into something that should never have existed. He’d been sent to Prythian after his sister’s death to take her place. A boy who would have no choice but to return to the lake or die trying.

And he was dying. You could see it clear as day. Two teeth clinked onto the floor and Andrian’s hands flew up to his mouth. He whimpered, eyes locking on you like you might be able to fix this.

You wanted to beg Rhys and Feyre to do something, to fix him, but it was a useless endeavor. They wouldn’t have brought you here if they could just reach into Andrian’s mind and end it all peacefully. Andrian was too powerful for that. But you could use another way.

You approached him like a wild, injured animal, grimacing when he tried to run at you only for his ankle to twist and then snap. He fell to the floor in a pathetic sprawl.

“Hey there, little feather.”

Andrian paused at that familiar nickname, watery eyes looking up. You said it just like Henna had once upon a time. The same inflection in a differently pitched voice. His lips trembled.

“She left me.”

You shook your head before kneeling on the ground in front of him. He smelled of death. It clung to his linen shirt and trousers. It clung to the few strands of hair still woven into his scalp, skin so thin you could make out his skull.

“She didn’t leave you, Andrian.” You poured your voice out over him, as soothing as you could make it, forcing the tears down. “She thought you’d died and that you’d stayed dead. She had a little ceremony for you out near the willow tree and buried your favorite toy beneath it with a handful of water lilies. Do you remember it? The little wooden doll you dressed up like a soldier with the red cap and the silver shoes?”

He clamped his hands over his ears, shaking his head while his weak neck teetered dangerously atop his shoulders.

“Andrian—” You pulled his hands away and in a bold, dangerous move brought them to your temple and slowly lowered your mental wards. You didn’t give him free reign, but rather guided him through snippets of memories you’d taken from Henna before her death. They all revolved around him. Before, and even after Koschei had poisoned their minds, Andrian had remained her true priority.

The boy’s eyes flashed from anger to confusion then, finally, to despair.

“She didn’t leave you.”

Andrian waited a few moments that had your heart seizing, then rushed into your arms, tightening them like a vice around your shoulders and burying his face in your hair. You held your breath, but tightened your grip. You weren’t his sister, but you were the closest thing he had.

Slowly, like sand falling through an hourglass, you felt his arms weaken and fall from your shoulders. He stared at you, wide and terrified as his hand snapped off at the wrist and fell to your side in a grey heap.

“Make it stop. Please make it stop.”

You smoothed back his hair, shoving down the tears that threatened to fall. His eyes were white now and unseeing. “It’s ok, little feather. It’s ok.”

“I don’t—” Even his voice was crumbling apart. Raspy and broken like cracked glass. He had little time left. The fight in him gone. “I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go to that dark place. Please don’t make me go.”

Azriel had been watching the entire time, trying not to picture the little boy with dark hair, weak wings, and bandaged hands. He went so, so still.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok. It’s going to be ok.” You promised. You forced your trembling lips into a smile.

He took in a rasping breath. “Will you go with me this time, Henna? Please.”

You gritted your teeth, brows furrowed in an effort to stay here instead of turning and sprinting back to the surface.

“I will. That’s why I came” You brushed his hair away from his forehead, saying nothing when the wispy white strands were torn away from his scalp like silk… just like the memories of Koschei’s lake you plucked from his mind without him knowing. You swallowed the pain of what you knew was coming. “I won’t let you be alone.”

He went quiet after that. Maybe his voice had deteriorated beyond saving, maybe he finally felt at peace. All you knew is that you needed to keep brushing his hair and holding onto his hand when he laid down and placed his head in your lap. He was like a little windup doll that had run out of string. He kept breathing until he finally stopped.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

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Author's Note:

So... this was a rather sad one, bit of a tonal shift if you ask me, but I wanted to wrap up the stuff with Henna and Andrian before we continue on to other things.

BUT, you have to appreciate when Y/n walks into what's effectively a torture chamber and goes "yeah, nope, still in love with Azriel." It's just one of those things that gets brushed under the rug but like... this guy's WHOLE JOB is inflicting pain upon people.... and you know what, it's a fantasy book, so who the hell cares. We stan Y/n being supportive of Azriel's career lol

#the shadowsinger and the inkbird #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader slowburn #azriel shadowsinger

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little-diable · 1 year ago

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Lies, nothing but lies - Dean Winchester (smut)

This is pure filth really, but at least there's a little bit of plot as well (not much tho lol). Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean and the reader have been friends since childhood, the reason why neither of them ever addressed their crush on the other. When a hunt gone wrong forces her confession out of the reader, Dean finds himself drawing back. But there was no escaping, all thanks to some strange, powdery substance.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected piv, sex pollen, choking, sloppy oral (m), slight breeding kink, friends to lovers, a small rejection though happy end, typical SPN setting

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (2.7k words)

A gasp rippled through (y/n) as she opened her eyes, slowly adjusting to the darkness that surrounded her, wondering where she was. She tried to move around, though without any luck, bound to the chair as if she was a sacrifice that would find its end in Death’s cold arms any moment now.

“Fuck, Dean? Sammy?” She whispered the names of her hunting partners, hoping that they were close. But she was met with nothing but silence, a silence so thick, (y/n) feared she may never speak another word again. Her eyes fluttered close as she tried to remember what had happened, it took her a few seconds till the memories found their way back to her like the tide rolling back in.

She had stayed behind in the motel, needing to catch up on some sleep as the brothers went out to speak to a few neighhours, hoping that somebody had seen or heard something. It had taken them hours to figure out new details, convinced that this was the sloppy work of a werewolf, but yet (y/n) had been stupid, leaving the motel after a few minutes of trying to fall asleep though miserably failing. She should have waited for them, should have trusted the funny feeling in her gut, but it had been too late the second darkness had swallowed her whole, trapping her.

Once again (y/n) tried to shuffle around, trying to reach the pocketknife she always carried around with her. Heavy breaths left her, eyes squeezed shut to try and collect all her strength, freezing as she heard the sound of heavy steps echoing through the air. Fuck, she’d have to be quick, she’d have to collect all her strength, trying to fight her way out of this mess.

Her heart longed for Dean, knowing that he’d fight side by side with her, sticking to the woman that had been around for years. They were one, one team, one heart, one soul, though without ever addressing the palpable tension between them.

“(Y/n)? Sweetheart?” The sound of an all too familiar voice ripped her out of the wave of sadness threatening to pull her under. “Fuck, of course she’s not here. I’ll kill that motherfucker with my own two hands.”

“Dean! I’m here! Sammy!” Her vocal chords ached from the strength she used to call out to the two brothers, hoping that they’d hear her. (Y/n) kept calling, listening to the sound of their steps, seemingly moving closer with every passing second.

“(Y/n)?” Sam’s voice rang in her ears, forcing a relieved gasp out of her. A cry left her, luring the two closer till they finally reached her. Dean cupped her cheek as he crouched in front of her, holding her close, letting Sam cut her free. She tumbled into Dean’s arms, inhaling the comforting scent she’d always felt recognise no matter how long they’d be apart. “Shh, we’ve got you, my brave girl, you’re okay.”

……

“Don’t look away, I’m not done yet.” Dean’s soft words filled the small motel bathroom, hands cupping her cheeks as he cleaned her scratches. She had her legs wrapped around his middle, keeping him close, not yet ready to part from him.

Her heart raced at the mere thought of ever missing a moment like this with Dean. Her life had no meaning without Dean in it, needing him to guide her, the one her heart needed to survive.

“Dean?” A hum left him, allowing her to keep on talking. Dean was oblivious to the racing of her heart, not picking up on the sounds the strong muscle created as it skipped beats. Her nervousness flushed through her veins, body forcing her to keep on moving, searching his closeness like she should have done years ago already. “Thank you, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Her gaze flickered between his eyes and his plush lips, momentarily distracted by the freckles she kept counting like sand collected in a glass, trying to keep memories bottled in to never forget them. His breaths got quicker, accelerating with every passing moments.

“I can’t, sweetheart.” His words made her breath hitch in her chest, staring at him with wide eyes for a few seconds before she slowly nodded her head, murmuring a soft “Of course.” (Y/n) gave Dean a small push, needing to get some distance between him and herself before he could notice the tears welling up in her eyes.

His hand found her wrist, stopping (y/n) from stumbling out of the bathroom. The sight of Dean was slightly blurred by her tears, making her feel even more pathetic as his sad smile grew clearer. Dean studied her for a few seconds, slowly letting go of her. “I wish I could, but I can’t risk our friendship, not when it’s the only good thing I can have all too myself.”

“It’s alright, Dean. I uhm, I’ll try to get some sleep in.” He watched her leave the bathroom with trembling fingers, wrapping her arms around herself. She didn’t pick up on the tears welling up in his forest green eyes, didn’t hear the silent curses leaving him nor the sound of his hands angrily meeting the cold surface of the counter she had been sitting on.

(Y/n) didn’t pick up on anything, but the quiet sobs clawing through her, making her heart clench in her chest.

……

“Careful!” Dean’s arms found it’s way around her waist before (y/n) could stumble over the step, eyes meeting his to communicate a quiet “Thank you”. The tension between the two had something uncomfortable to it, not yet over the conversation they’ve shared in the small bathroom days ago. Dean couldn’t help but wonder if he should have given in, ending up in a situation by far more pleasing than whatever this was, while (y/n) still cursed her exhausted self for acting like she had never done before and probably never will again.

“I’ll check out the rooms upstairs.” She had moved up the stairs before Dean could say another thing, moving through the unfamiliar house. Another case was keeping them on their toes, wondering who they were dealing with, but the things they now stumbled upon in their very house screamed “witch”, making them more uncomfortable than they’d ever admit.

(Y/n) combed through the empty rooms, opening boxes, shelves, whatever she could find. Before she could leave the upstairs area, moving back down to the man she tried to avoid like the plague, her eyes caught on a golden, small box. She moved closer, not hearing the sound of Dean’s heavy boots meeting the wooden steps, luring him closer.

“What’s that?” His voice made her jump, box crashing to the ground before she could catch it. A powdery substance now littered the ground, forcing curses out of (y/n) as she crouched down to push the substance back into the box. Dean wordlessly started helping her, eyes not daring to meet her angry ones. “I didn’t find anything, maybe we should try and see if we can find something online about the weird drawings we saw.”

“Alright, let’s go.” (Y/n) followed Dean outside, ignoring the heat simmering inside of her, threatening to take over her system. No words were spoken between the two as Dean started driving back, wiping away the drops of sweat pooling on his forehead, making him wonder why he was suddenly feeling all this hot.

“Dean?” His name left her, a sound torn between a cry and a moan, leaving his eyes to snap towards her. She was struggling just as much as he was, forcing him to tighten his grip on the steering wheel. “Fuck, I’m so hot. Open the windows, please.”

“It’s fucking freezing outside, sweetheart.” Both pondered over his words a few seconds, clinging to the quietness filling the Impala. “It was that fucking powder, shit, Sammy told me about this a while ago.”

“What is it? Will it kill us?” Her voice trembled, hands snapping into action to undo the first buttons of the jacket she was wearing, close to ripping her shirt open. Dean’s hand found her thigh, fingers dipping into her skin, forcing her to stop moving.

“They’re called sex pollen, you have to fuck them out of your system, otherwise they’ll kill you.” A groan left Dean, mind creating vivid pictures of (y/n)'s naked frame pressed against his, how she’d mewl his name, begging him to fuck her harder. Dean had imagined this for countless times, fucking his hand to the thought of her naked frame, imagines he clung to, very well knowing that he’d never touch her, not daring to ruin his oldest and closest friendship. Lies, nothing but lies.

“What? You’re joking! That can’t be true, what should we do?” A whimper left (y/n) as Dean’s hand started moving up her thigh, slowly, since his mind was trying to fight his body’s urges. Baby came to a halt in front of the motel, forcing the two into the room they shared. Dean couldn’t help but thank whoever was listening that Sam hadn’t joined them on this hunt, staying in the bunker for the time being.

“I don’t know about you, sweetheart, but I’ve got something to take care of.” She looked at him with big eyes for a few seconds, well aware of the way his hardening cock pressed against the tight fabric of his trousers, forming an uncomfortable bulge. No words left her as (y/n) leaped at him, lips finding his as her mind was silenced by the pollen taking over the last bits of her system, guiding her every movement.

Dean welcomed the kiss with a moan clawing through him, hands finding their way to her jeans, undoing the button with quick movements, set on undressing her. Both parted from one another to rip their clothes off their bodies, only left in their underwear, a sight that left them both breathless, fingers aching to feel one another.

“I need your cock, anything, please Dean, it burns so much.” Her body was aching for his touch, wanting to feel him buried inside of her, desires fuelled by the pollen that worked like a drug on her system. Dean pushed her down on the bed, ripping her panties down her legs as she worked on her bra, a sight Dean didn’t allow himself to get lost in, needing to work quickly. His cock was twitching, leaking precum, laced with a desire so strong, he feared he’d pass out any moment now.

With his hand wrapped around his cock, Dean pushed the tip through her slit, coating himself with her arousal before he pushed into her. Both moaned in unison, eyes rolling back to give room to the darkness swapping through their systems. Dean fucked her without any mercy holding him back, hand finding its way to her throat, pinning her down as his other hand clung to the bedframe.

It felt as if both had been needing to feel this for months, perhaps even years, a longing that had been nothing more than a daydream they’d try to escape from, at least till this very moment. Their bodies fit together perfectly, moving in sync as they tried to stop the heat that kept on flushing through them.

Both were too far gone to speak, unable to produce anything but moans and groans, sinful words that rippled through them. Her orgasm moved closer quickly, flushing through her before she could stop her body from giving in, but Dean didn’t stop moving, not nearly as done as she was.

Her body kept calling out to his, the heat still thumped through her veins, almost as strong as it had been before her first orgasm of the night. Their eyes met, hers hazy and confused, Dean’s twinkling with joy, excitement, and the pride he wasn’t able to swallow down. Even though he couldn’t guide his body, having to trust his instincts, he couldn’t deny that he loved seeing her like this, moaning for him, fucked out within a few moments.

“I need to fill you up, want to fuck you full with my cum.” His words forced another moan out of her, body not satisfied just yet. Their hearts kept jumping, her arm found its way around his neck, pulling Dean in for another kiss. They were a mess of tangled limbs, tongues, and digits, a mess so perfect, they never wanted to free themselves from it.

Dean kept staring down on her as his hand disappeared between their bodies, rubbing her already overstimulated pulsing bundle of nerves with a smirk tugging on his lips. Her moans were everything but quiet, loud enough to ring in his ears like a cry of help in the quiet night would.

“Cum inside of me Dean, please, I want it, want it so badly.” Her words were slurred, giving Dean the last push he needed to tumble over the edge, cum painting her walls white as a heavy groan left him. Slow thrusts kept pushing his cock into her heat, cock still hard and twitching, needing to chase another high before they’d feel somewhat satisfied.

Without another warning Dean pulled out of her, flipping them around so that (y/n) had her face buried in the pillows, heavily groaning as he pushed back into her from behind. Their moans grew louder once again, dripping with pleasure and lust, an insatiable hunger they couldn’t still, all thanks to the pollen drugging their system.

“I should have fucked you sooner, fuck, I won’t ever let you go again, sweetheart, you belong to me, just like your body does.” Dean spoke his words with his jaw clenched and his teeth pressed together, still rushing along the waves of pleasure that made them tremble. (Y/n) could only groan, sobbing his name with squeezed together eyes, fingers digging into the fabric of the pillow.

Her walls kept fluttering around his cock, ready to give in again, shaking fingers finding their way to her aching clit. Within seconds she was pushed over the edge again, finally letting go of the heat that had forced her to keep on going, allowing her body to somewhat relax.

Dean stared down on her for a few seconds, hips still snapping against her behind before he pulled out of her, groaning a throaty “I need your mouth, sweetheart”. With tired though excited eyes staring up at Dean, (y/n) shuffled around, allowing him to abuse her mouth, forcing his cock deep down her throat.

She gagged for him, instantly making a mess with saliva dripping from her lips and chin. (Y/n) clung to him, corners of her mouth burning within moments, and yet she couldn’t help but moan for more, eyes rolling back into her head with every rough thrust. Her moans vibrated on his skin, forcing Dean to keep on going, adding to the speed of his thrusts to push himself over the edge again.

He came with a heavy groan, curses rolling off his tongue as he filled her cheeks. His hand found her hair, tilting her head back, watching tears run down her cheeks.

“Fuck, are you okay, sweetheart?” A tired hum left (y/n), finding comfort against his chest, pulled closer with his hands holding onto her waist. His hand ran up and down her spine, forcing goosebumps to rise on her skin, not wanting to break out of this state just yet. “Listen, sweetheart, about what I’ve said-"

“It’s okay, Dean, you don’t have to explain yourself.” She slowly pulled back, at least she tried to, though without any luck. Dean kept holding her close, lips finding hers before she could speak another word.

“I was stupid, just scared to ruin our friendship. But I can’t let you again, if you still want me.”

#Dean Winchester smut #Dean Winchester imagine #Dean Winchester x reader

1K notes · View notes

rollinouttahere-writes · 1 year ago

Text

Lucky Break Chapter 4

Yandere Straw Hats x Fem!Reader

5.8k words

Beginning / Previous / Next

The longest chapter yet, but at least this arc is finally wrapped up!

Just as you thought, you could hear them before you could see them.

“Sounds like they’ve got this covered. I don’t know what you’ve got planned, but I need to go get something that belongs to me. Bye!” Nami slapped you on the shoulder and then diverted from the path you were following.

“Wait, I don’t have anything planned! What am I supposed to do about any of this?!” You called out after her, but she paid you no mind, the woman was on a mission. The light jog you were doing trickled down into a standstill.

What were you supposed to do?

There isn’t exactly a guide for this, and even if there was, you can’t remember having read it.

There was yelling and the sound of weapons clashing no more than a block away from you. Wait- That’s it! Weapons! You need a weapon! You can’t just charge into battle and help your new companions empty handed.

But where would you find one? Well, this town is something of a war zone, maybe there’s a weapon lying around? You would settle for even just a kitchen knife at this point. Literally anything to give you some semblance of protection.

Hoping that Luffy and Zoro will be okay until you can help, you scurry down an alleyway. “Come on, come on, give me something,” you mutter under your breath. Your eyes dart around wildly, scanning the surrounding area. There are some stray bricks and broken planks of wood from the buildings being destroyed. That could work potentially, but you decide to look around a little longer.

A structure catches your eye ahead of you. Scaffolding next to a house that hadn’t been finished yet. A relieved grin spreads across your face. Construction tools! You could use a saw or a hammer or something like that!

There were some crates and tool boxes lying on the ground, all open. The boxes have what appear to be blueprints and building materials. The toolboxes are damn near empty. Some nails and screws litter the bottom of it, plus a couple of tools that won’t help you like a tape measure.

“Shit!” You kicked the nearest toolbox in anger. What were you supposed to do? Bare knuckle box some armed super-powered pirates? Feeling crushed and frustrated, you drop down into a squat and put your head between your hands, pulling on your hair.

This was so stupid and unfair. You can’t even remember your own name, and now the only people willing to help you are having to fight on their own while injured and you’re helpless to do anything. Why are you even here? For what purpose? What happened to get you to this point?

A rush of air, followed by a clanging noise right in front of you startled you. The shock made you fall onto your ass, scared that you were under attack. A quick once over of the alley revealed that you were still alone. What was that?

Then, a piece of paper flits to the ground just ahead of you. It lands on a coiled piece of metal that you don’t remember being there before. Is that what made the noise? Hesitantly, you reach out to grab the paper. There’s something written on it.

“Lucky”

What an interesting event

Losing your memories was not my intent

To aid in your journey

Please take this urumi

“A”

Next to the letter “A”, was an ink stamp. One you recognized. You fished out the necklace from under your shirt, and sure enough, the stamp matched it. A jolly roger with a wand clenched between its teeth.

Where did you get this necklace from initially, and how did “A” know about your new nickname? How did they know where you were? You look up at the rooftops, but see nothing and no one. You hadn’t heard anyone approach either. It’s like these things just appeared out of thin air.

Much like you did according to Luffy.

A loud explosion rang out and shook the ground. Oh right! You’re supposed to be in a battle! You clamber onto your feet and pick up the so-called urumi by what you believe to be a handle while stuffing the note into your satchel. If you’re being completely honest with yourself, you have no idea what an urumi is supposed to be. You assume it’s a weapon, but why would a weapon be so… limp?

The “blade”, if you can call it that, unraveled and drooped to the ground. It was like some bizarre love child of a whip and a sword. How was something like this supposed to help you? Is it even sharp? Gingerly, you stroke the edges of the blade.

“Ow! Okay, yeah, that’s sharp,” just lightly touching in was enough to draw a couple drops of blood. You bring the finger to your mouth, feeling a little dumb now for managing to cut yourself within seconds of getting your hands on this thing. You have no idea how to use any weapon, much less one so unique.

Experimentally, you hold it out and flick the blade away from you. It cuts through the air and cleanly slices through a leg of the scaffolding like a hot knife through butter. The structure shifts slightly, but remains standing.

You can’t help but eye the weapon warily, this thing seems extremely dangerous. Great for dealing with enemies, bad for you if you aren’t careful and don’t know what you’re doing. Which you don’t.

It would be good to go and help your companions now that you’re armed but you want to get a better feel for this thing before charging into battle. Swaying it back and forth is helping to get a better feel for the weight of it, but the method in which you could safely wield it is still beyond you.

“There she is! The liar that tricked and made a fool of us!”

You were so focused that you hadn’t even heard the small band of enemies approaching. Their clothes were torched and skin burned, and they looked furious. With swords raised, they ran right at you, bloodlust in their eyes.

A shriek emitted from your throat, and your arm flailed as you panicked. The urumi’s blade struck the scaffolding again, effortlessly going through several legs before wedging itself into the brick wall. The structure pitched forward and groaned. Your attackers looked up just in time to see the whole thing come down on them. All of them were pinned under the weight of it plus the supplies that had been piled on. Some of the people were knocked out by the falling material, while one was left awake.

He was trapped, but could move his head just enough to scowl at you. “I bet you think you’re really clever! Well you won’t get away with this, Captain Buggy never loses! It’s only a matter of time before he takes your head for this trickery!” Venom dripped from every word, his loathing so tangible that you think you could cut it.

“Not really, I’ve just,” you yanked on the urumi, trying to dislodge it, “got a lot of dumb luck it seems.” And some magical note and weapon giver, but that’s hardly something to bring up in casual conversation. Damn, that thing was really in there. You readjust your grip and pull again. There’s a creak, and then it breaks free. It came loose so suddenly that it made you stumble as the blade flung around you, narrowly missing that one guy’s head.

The man screamed, pulling his head back into the rubble like a turtle retreating into its shell, “Are you trying to kill me?!”

“Weren’t you trying to kill me?!” The double standards up in here were insane. They could gang up on you, but you almost accidentally hit him and now you’re the bad guy? Ridiculous. He fell silent and didn’t answer, “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must get going.”

Realistically, you don’t think it’s a good idea to be slinging this thing around, especially near Luffy or Zoro, but it was comforting to at least have something now. You examine the urumi closely, contemplating the best way to carry it. There’s a loop on the handle, and you get an idea.

Carefully, you wind it around your waist and feed it into the loop. Sure enough, it fits together snugly, and now it looks like you have a strange belt on. Alright, you’re feeling a little bit better now, hell you even stopped a few attackers (albeit accidentally).

Now it’s time to actually join the fight.

Well… Maybe you’ll assess the situation first. You just needed to figure out how to do so without being caught unprepared. Getting onto a rooftop could work. The house in front of you had a pretty low roof, climbing onto it shouldn’t be too hard.

You kick a crate close and hop on. It takes some effort, sure, but you’re able to pull yourself up. The shingles dig into you through the clothes, but it’s hardly the worst thing you’ve been through today. Finally, you can see what’s going on. It looks like there are only four people involved in this fight. There’s Luffy and Zoro, of course. Buggy is also there, seemingly unharmed from the cannon fire earlier. You suppose that isn’t too surprising considering his weird powers. Then there’s also some guy on a unicycle because, sure, why not?

Zoro and the unicyclist are fighting each other. Zoro is fighting hard, but it’s clear even from your perch that he’s struggling to fight with his injury. Luffy is too preoccupied with Buggy to be able to help him, and you’re positive that you would just hurt him more if you were to charge in with your unwieldy weapon of not-choice.

What else was there to do? You’re scanning the area for ideas, seeing lots of rubble and injured pirates strewn about. One of which being Richie, who was currently licking his wounds.

Hang on, you might know what to do now.

A hand digs around in your pants pocket and pulls out the laser pointer you put in there earlier. You don’t know what the range on this bad boy is, but hopefully it’s going to be strong enough for what you’ve got planned.

Pointing it in the direction of the white lion, you click it on. Lucky for you, it reaches, and a red dot is just ahead of Richie. He doesn’t seem to have noticed it, so you wiggle it around. His head snaps up, and you rejoice on the inside.

He reaches a paw out to it, but you move it away. At first, he’s startled, but then he’s up on his feet and in pursuit. You keep moving it away from him, zipping it around to keep him interested. If you could get him a little closer, you should be able to help Zoro. You doubt that unicycle boy is going to be able to fight well if there’s a lion on top of him.

You risk a glance over to them, only to notice something else. Buggy is using his powers for a sneak attack! Shit! Change of plans, you need to throw him off instead!

Hastily, you move the dot onto his back and pray that Richie goes for it. The lion sees it and pauses, but then he crouches and creeps closer. Yes! Just a little bit more! Come on, Richie! His tail flicks wildly, and he then pounces.

Buggy hits the ground with an indignant shriek. He’s kicking and screaming, “Mohji! Get your damn lion under control!”

You did it! You helped! Taking another look at Zoro, you see him land a finishing blow to the unicyclist. This is going much better than you would have thought! With that guy out of the way, everyone can focus on taking down Buggy.

Luffy was first to take this opportunity. Buggy had barely gotten back onto his feet after being pounced on by Richie, only to get punched by the rubber captain. The blow sent him tumbling head over heels away from him. Luffy wasn’t about to let up and continued the assault, but Buggy was able to get onto his feet and scramble out of the way of the next blow.

They engaged in a back and forth, each using their unique powers to try and get one over on the other. You tried to use your laser pointer again, but Mohji had Richie’s full attention while he was scolding him for attacking the captain. Well there goes that idea. At least you got it to work once.

You army crawl backwards so you can climb down from the roof, but stop when you notice something red flying right at you.

Oh shit, that’s Luffy!

There isn’t even enough time to brace for impact before the human wrecking ball crashes into the building and brings everything down on top of him, you included. You yelp and fall directly on top of him, disoriented but otherwise fine.

Luffy, entirely unbothered by the whole affair, helps you get up off of him, “Oh hey, Lucky! I was wondering when you were going to get here!” He stood and pulled you with him while readjusting his hat.

“Sorry, I just needed to pick up something first,” your hand drifted down to your new weapon, still getting used to even having one. The presence of one feels so foreign that you can’t imagine you ever carried one in the past.

He waved off your apology, “Don’t worry, it’s basically over already! I’ll finish this here and now!” Luffy bounced out of the crumbled building and got ready to do just that.

“Excuse you! Don’t underestimate me! And why are you talking to my crewmate?!”

What? No. How could this guy still think you’re still on the same team? That’s not possible. He saw you run to Luffy’s aid with the key you stole from him. Maybe that cannonball did hit him after all and knocked his common sense right out.

“Huh? Lucky is your crewmate?” Luffy’s head tilted to the side, genuine confusion on his face.

Several of Buggy’s pirates piped up, “She obviously tricked you, Captain!”

“No one can trick me! Be nice to our newest member!” Buggy whirled around and actually started scolding them. Is he stupid? What is happening?

“I’m not in your crew! I lied to you so I could try and save him,” you clarified while pointing at Luffy, amazed that this even needed to be said. Luffy immediately accepted this explanation, nodding and winding up to take a swing at Buggy.

“Lucky, please! I know we got off on the wrong foot but-” Buggy’s pleas were interrupted by Luffy resuming the fight.

Carefully, you work on stepping out of the collapsed building, still a little baffled by that exchange. Whatever, no use in overthinking it. There are more important things at hand.

The sound of something heavy being dragged across the ground caught your attention, it was Nami toting a couple of massive bags behind her. She met your gaze and motioned you over, “Oh, good timing. Help me move these!”

What? No please? Whatever, this is another thing not worth worrying about in the moment. You catch up with her quickly and take one of the bags. The second you do, you stumble. My god this thing is heavy! You do your best to pull it along, “What did you put in here? It weighs a ton!”

“It’s all of that clown’s treasure!” Nami answers happily, eyes sparkling.

“Why do you need all of this? What would you even do with it?” You’re huffing from the exertion of hauling your bag.

“That’s my business, thank you very much,” she said dismissively. Well then, you guess that’s the end of that conversation.

“Hey! I see you! How dare you steal from me!” Buggy screeched. A hand holding several throwing knives was flying right at the both of you. Nami screamed, but refused to let go of “her” treasure. Your hand hovered over the urumi, but you hesitated. You really don’t think you possess the skill to slice his hand out of the air.

Fortunately, you don’t have to try, because Luffy’s own hand rockets towards Buggy’s and snatches it out of the air before he can make contact. Your shoulder slump in relief, good thing he’s so on top of this!

Luffy’s victory doesn't last long, another hand comes up from behind and steals his straw hat. You would think that he would just be happy that he wasn’t stabbed, but no. He looks enraged. You haven’t known him long, but the anger on his face feels wrong.

“Give that back! That’s my treasure!” His voice was so authoritative that you didn’t even question how something as simple as a hat could be considered treasure. Whatever reason he has, it must be a good one if he’s that mad about it.

Buggy begins on some tirade about the previous owner of the hat. Some dude named Shanks? Weird name. Well, to be fair, a lot of the people you’ve met have had strange names.

You don’t get to listen in on this long, Nami taps you on the shoulder and indicates for you to follow her. You barely take a step before she tacks on, “Bring the treasure!”

After the oh so precious treasure is dragged into the nearest alley, she starts rifling through some boxes. Since she doesn’t appear to be planning on explaining herself, you pipe up, “So… Are we looking for something in particular?”

Nami doesn’t look up from her search, “We need something to stop that guy from coming after us or else I’ll never be able to leave with my treasure.” The explanation was simple and to the point. You pitch in and start looking, too. A net would probably work, but what were the odds of some nets just so happening to be here?

“This’ll work!” Nami springs up and tosses a bundle your way. You catch it, and it’s a coiled up length of rope. You nod, this is a nice alternative to your net idea. She strolls to the entrance of the alley and pokes her head out, “Next time this circus freak splits apart, you and me will tie up the pieces. Got it?”

“Got it,” you conceded. Sounds doable, especially if Luffy is keeping him busy. Sure enough, Buggy splits into a bunch of parts in hopes of confusing his opponent, but you’re not about to let him succeed.

You and Nami spring into action, grabbing airborne limbs and wrapping the ropes around them as tightly as you can. They’re wriggling wildly, and it is admittedly disturbing to be holding disembodied arms and legs, but you don’t give up. Unfortunately, both hands and feet evade you as well as Nami. You can only hope that the two of you were able to apprehend enough parts to make a difference.

Buggy attempts to put himself back together again, and the writhing piles of limbs try to fly back to him, but Nami acts swiftly and throws both into a box and seals it shut. The box rattles, but the body parts are unable to escape. The both of you smile triumphantly.

“What happened?! Where’s the rest of me?!”

You look over to him, and immediately snort out a laugh. Which then escalates into hysteric laughing. Nami looks at you questioningly, before seeing it too and joining in with her own laughter.

Buggy the clown, the fearsome pirate that’s been talking mad shit since you met, was now nothing but a head with hands and feet. Absolutely nothing else.

Even Luffy was laughing, a pleasant sight after his previous expression. Buggy was still trying to act tough despite the situation, but Luffy was having none of that. He took a couple of steps back, then ran at the incomplete clown and kicked him. He didn’t just go sailing down the street, no, he went clear into the sky and vanished.

“Team Rocket blasting off again,” you mumbled. Then your face scrunched up. Where did that come from?

“Did you say something, Lucky?” Nami asked.

“N-No, that was nothing. I’m just glad that’s over with.”

“You and me both, I hate having to deal with pirates,” she agreed.

The sound of flip flops slapping against the ground was your only warning before being pulled into a group hug. You and Nami were squished against each other and unable to move when Luffy’s arms coiled around you both. He cheered and hopped up and down enthusiastically, “We did it, good thinking guys! We already make such a great crew!”

“I am not part of your crew,” Nami wheezed.

Luffy stopped, loosening his grip a little but not enough for either of you to escape, “Huh? But you said you’d be my navigator.”

“All that I agreed to was a temporary alliance, that’s it,” she clarified while trying desperately to get out of his clutches.

“Are you still gonna sail with us out of here?”

“Sure?”

“Okay, that’s good!” Luffy was content with the answer, however unpromising it may be.

“Where’s Zoro? I haven’t seen him in a while,” you were craning your neck around to try and spot him. Now that you thought about it, you haven’t seen him since his fight with the unicyclist. Was he okay? Did he succumb to his wounds after the fight?

Mercifully, Luffy let go and pointed to where he was, “He’s over there, he said he needed to sleep some more after fighting.”

“What, right in the street?” You asked, thinking for sure that you’re misunderstanding. Obnoxious snores cut through the now silent air, and you realize that you understood perfectly. There he is. Out cold in the middle of the street like it’s the comfiest mattress he’s ever experienced. You know what? You’re not even surprised now that you’re looking at him. This checks out for him.

“Hey, guys, I think we should leave,” Nami threw out, handing the treasure bag you had been hauling to Luffy.

“Why?”

“There’s a mob and they look mad.”

A mob?! Sure enough, rounding the corner of the almost leveled street you were on was a massive angry mob of people. They’ve got torches and pitchforks and everything. They aren’t dressed like the pirates, you think these are the missing townspeople! That’s fine then, you guys just defeated the clown that had been terrorizing them. By all accounts, they should be happy with you. Right?

“Mayor Boodle! What happened to you?!” One of them cried out and ran to him. Oh wow, you hadn’t even noticed him being there. The mayor was currently sprawled out on the street. Unlike Zoro, he did not appear to be sleeping peacefully. If the knot on his head was anything to go off of, it looks like someone knocked him the hell out.

Damage control, you need to do some damage control! And quick!

“Oh him? I punched him,” Luffy interjected, looking rather proud of himself.

“You what?!” You and the townsfolk yelled all at once. Good lord, does Luffy just enjoy concussing people?! Should you be more suspicious about what happened to you?

“Hey! That girl stole my clothes! And paired it with a hideous coat!” An absolutely furious woman in the crowd pointed at you. Oh come on! How many people are going to call you out for wearing their clothes today?!

Luffy laughed, amused and unbothered, “Let’s go!” He reached for and yanked Zoro to his side and motioned for you to support his other side, and the second you picked him up you were running.

“Don’t let them escape!”

The mob surged after you all and were hot on your heels. You’re not sure that you’ll be able to lose them at this rate.

Luffy took a hard right, leading all four of you down an alley. In the middle of it was a dog. Wait, not just any dog, that’s Chouchou! The dog he helped. You leapt over him, and the second the crowd approached, he switched from quiet guarding to aggressive barking.

Despite their numbers, this did make the people hesitate, buying you enough time to get ahead. Luffy called out a ‘thank you’ to the dog over his shoulder, much to the bewilderment of the crowd.

The docks were just ahead, you were almost home free!

Nami leapt into her own boat, not wasting a second, and began to set sail. Luffy all but threw you and Zoro into yours. Both of you landed with a thud and Zoro groaned, opening his eyes groggily. He looks around lazily, “Where are we?”

“Back on our boat, we got chased out by an angry mob,” you explained, gently shifting him off of you.

“Why?”

“Because Luffy attacked the mayor,” you shot the assailant in question a dry look, not that he was paying attention.

“He did that to save him, why are they mad about it?” Zoro yawned and tried to make himself more comfortable. You didn’t even know how to respond to that. How do you save someone by punching them?

“Hey, you ruffians!”

Everyone looked to shore and saw the mayor standing there. Well he sure made a quick recovery since you last saw him two minutes ago! You waited anxiously to hear what would be said next. Would he curse you all? He probably doesn’t even know how the final battle went.

“Thank you!”

He’s… thanking you guys?

Luffy laughed boisterously and waved, “You’re welcome, old man!”

“Wait! Luffy, where is the bag you were carrying?” Nami interrupted the moment, looking around frantically. “Did you forget it?!”

“No, I left it behind for them. They need it more than I do!” Luffy smiled innocently and pointed to where it was left on the docks. The locals were already investigating the bag to see what it was.

Luffy, a pirate, abandoned treasure because he thought the people who chased him out of town needed it more? What kind of a pirate would do something like that? What kind of a person would do something like that? The answer was obvious, you suppose.

A good one.

You looked over at him again, only to see Nami actively trying to drown him.

“Nami, no!”

—

It took some time to ease the tensions between Nami and Luffy after the whole treasure incident. Time, and Zoro keeping them separated. Fortunately, Nami did eventually relent and agreed through clenched teeth that maybe the townsfolk did need the money.

Luffy had no problems to reconcile on his side, he had somehow already forgiven the attempted murder by the time Zoro pulled him above water.

Nami had set course for some nearby islands with the goal of acquiring a better ship as per Luffy’s request, and after that it didn’t take long for night to come. Nami offered to stay awake to make sure you didn’t go somewhere you weren’t supposed to, which was nice of her.

Getting some sleep sounded nice. At least, it sounded nice in theory. The small boat that you, Luffy, and Zoro were all crammed into didn’t offer much room for stretching out or having personal space. That, and Luffy had chosen to sleep by sprawling across you and Zoro in lieu of a bed. He wasn’t particularly heavy, but he wouldn’t stop moving.

You doubt you had slept for more than a couple of hours before being awoken by Luffy biting your arm, murmuring about meat in his sleep. You awoke with a start and roughly shoved him off of you on instinct. He barely even reacted and simply latched onto Zoro in your absence. Better him than you.

Sleep was unlikely to come to you again tonight. You carefully scoot yourself away from the two, with plans of stargazing until morning. The action didn’t rouse either of them, but it got someone else’s attention.

“Who’s awake?” Nami called out.

“I am, Luffy bit me,” you answered back.

She snickered, humored by your suffering. “Come over here and keep me company,” she yawned, “I’m getting tired.”

Chatting with Nami doesn’t sound like a bad way to pass the time, so you agree and shakily get to your feet. The two boats are tied together to keep them from drifting apart, so the distance isn’t far, but the instability of being at sea made it feel much more challenging than it should be.

Rather than help you by keeping the boat steady or even just offering a hand, Nami merely watched you struggle and didn’t even attempt to hide how funny she found this. Luckily, you were able to get over onto her boat without going overboard.

“You’ve got some great sea legs under you, huh?” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

You stumbled over to where she was seated and plopped down next to her, “I hope you know that I’m staying over here now, I’m not doing that again.”

That got a chuckle out of her, “That’s fine, I told you to come keep me company anyways.” The conversation lulled and you glanced over at her. She was focused on mending Luffy’s hat, carefully stitching the holes that had been put in it during his fight with Buggy. You hadn’t even known it had gotten damaged until you saw him fiddling with it after the little disagreement with Nami. It was surprising to see her offer to repair it considering how mad she had been only minutes prior, but Luffy agreed to let her anyway.

“So, I’ve gotta ask: How did you end up with those two?” Nami broke the silence, “You don’t really seem like the type to be a pirate.”

“That’s… It’s a funny story, I guess? A short one, too,” you started. “According to Luffy and Zoro, I fell out of the sky, almost drowned, and when Luffy was pulling me over to their boat I hit my head,” you pointed to the bandages on your head for emphasis. Nami had stopped working on the hat and was instead gawking at you.

“I woke up a little while later, and couldn’t remember a damn thing. Not how I got there, what happened, or even who I was. Luffy got the idea into his head to try and help me remember everything, so now I’m traveling with them for the time being,” you finished the explanation. The whole situation was insane, but it felt good to talk about it a little bit.

“What? When did this happen, how long have you even been with them?”

“Since yesterday. I had only woken up a couple of hours before we got to that island back there,” saying that made you realize how much had happened in such a short period of time. It hasn’t even been 24 hours yet.

Nami was visibly horrified by your story. She spared a glance to the other boat, then lowered her voice and spoke to you in a hushed but urgent tone, “How do you know they’re telling the truth?! For all you know, they took you hostage and are hoping to ransom you!”

This was a good point, you had considered the possibility of foul play already, but you couldn’t fully commit to the idea of it. They didn’t seem like bad people to you. Unhinged, yes, but not evil by any means. You mulled over your next words for a minute, “I’ve thought about that, but I think they’re being honest. I mean really, I don’t think Luffy can even lie.” You laughed a little upon remembering the chaos he caused by telling the townspeople about what happened with Mayor Boodle, “Besides, if they were so concerned with getting money from a ransom, why would Luffy have left behind a giant bag of gold? That seems pretty counterintuitive to me.”

Nami still looked unsure, but not as freaked out as she had been. She shot another look at the other boat, a highly suspicious one, but ultimately sighed and went back to working on the hat. “I don’t like that story at all, but I’ll let it go for now,” she muttered.

You fell into another bout of silence. There wasn’t exactly a whole lot to do out here, so you settled for watching her put the finishing touches on the hat. After the last stitch, she pulled the string taut and tied the knot. She cut it and held the straw hat up to her lantern to admire her handiwork. It looked great, she had done an excellent job repairing it.

“I’m guessing Lucky isn’t your real name then?” Once again, she had been the one to speak first.

“It’s not. Since I couldn’t remember it, Luffy came up with the nickname. He decided that I was “lucky” because he rescued me, so that’s how he chose the name.”

Nami scoffed, “I don’t know that I would call you “lucky” for that, but whatever.” She put the hat aside, and glanced at you briefly before choosing to look up at the stars instead. Her fingers drum against the wood of the ship anxiously for a moment, “Um… If you need to get away from them just let me know. I can drop you off at another island. Those idiots can’t navigate so they definitely won’t be able to find you.”

“Thank you, but that’s okay. I think I’ll stick with them for a while yet,” you answered honestly. They were some strange people, but you couldn’t deny that you found yourself liking them already.

“Suit yourself,” she said. Her disdain for the situation was palpable, but she seemed willing to drop it for now.

The only sounds now were the waves splashing against the boats and the wood creaking with each hit. It felt so quiet, unusually so, as if you weren’t used to it. The place you were before all this must have been very noisy if this makes you feel uneasy.

But, this was a good opportunity to think over what happened today. Well, yesterday. Falling out of the sky was weird enough, having basically nothing from before this happened was weirder, but the weirdest thing of all was the note and weapon that seemingly manifested out of nowhere.

What was that? Who left it, and how did they know about your amnesia? If they knew you, why wouldn’t they come and collect you? What is there to gain from throwing a weapon at you and leaving you be?

You have so many questions and zero answers, but there is one question that stands out against all the others.

Who is “A”?

#one piece #yandere one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #lucky break #monkey d luffy #luffy #roronoa zoro #cat burglar nami #one piece nami #nami #buggy the clown #luffy x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #nami x reader

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mustainegf · 2 months ago

Note

idea: dave has a crush on reader, but reader is kinda skittish and lowkey scared of him bc of his reputation as the big scary frontman of megadeth, so he tries to show reader that he's not a bad guy, lol (i hope i explained this properly)

Awww dude Dave is SUCH A SWEETHEART

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 ¹⁹⁹³

There was creativity in the air the minute I walked in, humming along with the electrical wires. It was like going into some kind of beast's lair. And right at its heart, Dave Mustaine.

I knew Dave for a while, at least I liked to think so. We met through mutual friends, had shared some laughs. But the truth was, I didn't know him, not the way the world did. To me, he was just Dave, a man with a reputation that preceded him, a reputation that quite frankly terrified me just a little bit.

The stories told of him painted a picture in my mind of, ferocity, anger, impatience. And while I was drawn to him, mesmerized even, I couldn't help that I was getting too close to something dangerous.

So when he asked me to join him in the studio, I actually hesitated. But his voice was gentle, and before I knew it, the words were tumbling out in agreement off my mouth.

Now, here I was, standing in the middle of a darkened studio, feeling out of place, and unsure of what to do with myself. Dave stood across the room, adjusting his guitar to his back while he looked different here, he was meant to be here.

Scattered along the room was a few producers, as well as the other guys, David, Nick, and Marty. I fidgeted from one foot to another, not sure if I should say something or just fade into silence.

Then, Dave turned around, flashing me a small, hesitant smile. "Hey, I was starting to think you wouldn’t come," he said in a softer than normal almost…gentle tone of voice.

"Yeah… well I’m here," I said, my voice coming out softer than I really meant. When silence fell, I had to fight the urge not to bolt out of the room. But before I could do anything brash, Dave strode over the room, thrusting a pair of headphones at me.

"Here," he said, "I want you to hear something."

I took the headphones from him, careful not to touch his fingers. There was an uncomfortable meld of stress as well as warmth between us.

I carefully put on the headphones, and he hit a button on the console. Instantly, my ears filled with guitar. It was a new track they were working on, and it was…beautiful. Heavy, yes, but there was a melody in it that never failed to accompany a Megadeth song.

I glanced over at him, and he was staring straight at me, like my reaction meant more to him than anything else in the world. "It's really good, Dave," I smiled, and I meant it. His face relaxed, and he almost looked relieved.

“You think so?" he asked, and for the first time sounded uncertain of himself, which came as a rather big surprise coming from someone like him. I nodded, and he smiled again, his freckled cheeks crinkling slightly.

“It’s called A Tout Le Monde.”

Through the day Dave continued to surprise me. He was reserved around me, almost… shy. It was like he knew I was nervous and had been trying to put me at my ease in whatever way he could.

He asked me what I thought of the music, he was genuinely interested in my opinions, and whenever he spoke, it was a quiet voice, never once raising it, even when the band started arguing over some riff or another.

Whenever he had to leave the room, he'd give me this reassuring look, like, "I'll be right back, okay?”

At one point, on a break, he turned to me and asked me if I wanted tea. Not coffee, tea. I don't know why, but that made me smile. He was just sweet in this unexpected way, a very shocking change to his reputation.

He got it for me himself and brought it to me carefully so as not to spill a single drop. I could feel his eyes on me as I took a sip.

“Good?" he asked nervously.

"It's perfect," I said, giving him a sweet nod.

The longer I sat, the less concerned I was about the terrifying ‘idea’ of Mustaine. He glances at me throughout the day, and the guys could very much tell.

As night came quickly, the band began to pack up. Dave stayed around me, and I felt like he wanted to say something. There was something in the air, that made me want to punch myself to see if maybe it would stop.

"Are you doing anything next week?" he suddenly asked, a little too casual, trying to play it cool but failing.

"I don't think so, why?" I returned, my heart starting to quiver.

"Well, uh," he started off, scratching the back of his neck in a boyish way, "the American Music Awards are next week, and I was wondering if you'd want to go with me… As my date."

My heart basically melted, he was so cute. His cheeks were pink and his hazel eyes flicked between my face and the carpet.

He is a man who can snarl to the world and earn a crowds respect, and here he is, nervous and blushing while waiting for my answer.

I paused, not because I didn't want to go, but this was a side of Dave I hadn't expected. Dave Mustaine was asking me out, and my heart softened at his gentleness.

"I'd love to," I said finally, the biggest smile spreading over my lips.

"Great," he said, beaming wide. "I promise, it’ll be a good time."

“I know it will be.”

#mustainegf #fanfic #fanfiction #reqs open #request #metallica #megadeth imagines #megadeth x reader #megadeth fanfiction #megadeth #dave mustaine fluff #dave mustaine x you #dave mustaine x reader #dave mustaine fic #dave mustaine imagines #dave mustaine fanfiction #dave mustaine

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tw1l1te · 9 months ago

Text

The Final Promise₊˚✩⊹

Chapter 2

Linked Universe x reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, soft and domestic, suggestive themes

Authors note: I was too excited to not post this lmao :3c

Time seemed to stop, and you didn’t mean by the Old Man.

Time literally seemed to halt. You stared at Rusl, trying to find any signs of lying or amusement in his eyes, as if this was some joke. A cruel, twisted joke.

“W-what?” you asked, the only word you could muster. You could feel your fingers shake on the table. You didn’t want to believe what Rusl said, or did you? You weren’t sure.

You weren’t sure if you’d accepted the fact on whether or not you were coming home ever again, but you didn’t think it would happen now, or so soon. Maybe Hylia wanted to see how your head would react. A twisted game for her, like it always is.

“Are you sure that’s what she said? Maybe she meant something else-"I know what she said. I may be old, but I saw what she wrote clear as day. There’s another mirror.”

Before anyone could say anything else, you stormed out of the cottage, the door squeaking on it hinges as you storm out.

“Y/n! Wait!!” Hyrule yells after you.

Before you could stop yourself to calm down, you break into a spring, heading straight towards the forest. You needed to run. Run. RUN.

This couldn’t be happening. You researched and combed through Hyrule Castle’s archives to find any sliver of hope that you’d be able to come home. Even if it said it was impossible, you never found anything to begin with. You had no answers.

You don't know when you stopped running, you panted as you sat up against a tree, silent tears running down your cheeks and down your neck. Breathing was so difficult, you began hiccuping and hyperventilating, gripping onto your hair for any kind of grounding back into reality. That’s when you felt something wet on your forehead.

Looking up, you were relieved for it to just be Wolfie, or Twilight.

“Twilight you shouldn’t have followed me.” you whispered into his fur.

Twilight turned back into his Hylian form, your face still in his pelt.

“I needed to make sure you were okay. Can’t leave you alone, especially in Faron Woods. Who knows what’s still out here,” he murmured into your hair, combing through your sweaty locks. He kissed the top of your forehead, hesitating before pulling back.

“It’s gonna be okay, Y/n. I promise. We’ll be with you, every step of the way, ok? We’re gonna find you a way to go home. Whether it be this lead or if we find something else.”

You sighed. Twilight was always the more outwardly calm person in the chain, alongside Time and Warriors.

“Twilight that’s the thing… I’m not even sure if I want to go home. It’s probably been years back home, hell I don’t even know if I have my apartment or my friends or… But its not like I don’t want you, y’know? I’ve been dreaming of going home since I first came here, I’d been up for nights at a time just researching in the underground library archives. I-I don’t know what to do or think, Twi.” you rambled, voice breaking at the end, letting more tears slip out.

“Although I don’t know exactly what you’re feelin’, I’m here for you, whatever it is that happens. We’re all here for you.”

He takes a breath.

“Speaking of the others, we should head back to the village, the others are probably worried sick about you.”

You nodded without a word, getting up and making back to Ordon Village together, Twilight wrapping his pelt around your shoulders. It smelled like him, you thought.

Twilight never gives anyone his pelt, its the one thing he sees as his. So why’d he give it to you? He has no idea. Instinct, he thinks. It’s cold, you needed it more than him. He looks down at you, your pink cheeks and wet lashes making you look more fragile and doll-like. Your cute nose sniffing every few seconds, breathing in the cold air. Your ears were so small, littered with at least 3 or 4 piercings, one of which was a triforce.

Twilight smiles slightly. He always liked the little pieces of “memorabilia” you had of them. It was incredibly strange and unsettling when they first found out, but he sees it more as like your belonging to them admiration of them.

Twilight’s train of thought stopped for a moment.

Where the hell did that thought come from?

Before he could ruminate on his psyche, he’s shaken out of his thoughts by Wind yelling “Oh thank fucking Hylia!”

You came back into Twilight’s treehouse, heading toward the bathroom to take a warm bath. You noticed that the tub was already filled, hot steam coming off the surface of the water. You’d have to thank whoever drew you the bath.

Stripping your clothes, you set them in a pile near the door. You step into the tub, wincing slightly at the hot water making contact with your skin. It was a bit too hot for you, but you knew the water will cool off fast enough, so you powered through it.

You sighed. This was nice. Even with the chaotic stream of thoughts coursing through your head, the bath seemed to dull it, even for just a moment. You grab your hair and start combing through it, no doubt getting knots from running through the woods earlier. You look at the necklace Four made for you a few months ago. It was to commemorate a year being with the Chain, which in retrospect should’ve made you sad, but it made you extremely happy and grateful for everyone in the group

You knew it was much easier to come across rarer metals and jewels here than back home, but you were still just as in shock when you realized what it was made of. You remember sobbing from joy when you received it, as you never held something so expensive and meaningful in your entire life.

The necklace was made of metal sourced from Death Mountain but you had no clue what the gem in the triangle shaped cavity was. It looked like emerald, but the boys said it wasn’t that, and that they won't tell you. They were so petty at times.

You were startled out of your thoughts when there was a knock at the door.

“I brought you some fresh clothes, Dove.” Ah Sky, honestly you were a little relieved it wasn’t Legend or Wars, knowing they’d say something snarky or suggestive.

“Come in Sky.”

You could hear the cogs turning in his head for a moment before he entered, red in the face. You almost laughed at what you were seeing.

Sky turned his head away from you and covered his eyes, just to spare you some dignity.

“I-uh gave you one of my older shirts since you don’t have any other clean ones and its thicker, so it’ll help keep you warm and it has-”

“Sky, for the love of god you’re making this more awkward than it has to be. You’re sweet for being so thoughtful, but we’re both adults Pumpkin.” you mused, chuckling a bit.

Sky finally made eye contact with you, but still avoided your eyes for the most part.

“Right. Um, well, I’ll just leave these on the chair then.”

Sky then stared at you. Not in a creepy way, just in admiration and awe. Luckily, the rest of your body was hidden under the bubbles of the soap in the water, so its not like he could see anything anyway.

He then walked up to you and sat down outside of the tub, still gazing at you.

“I was so worried about you earlier, Songbird. Are you alright now?” he asked, worry crossing his face.

You sighed. Ever the most thoughtful. Bringing your hands from under the water, you cup his cheeks looking right into his eyes.

“Don’t worry so much about me, Sky. I’m fine now. Twilight calmed me down a bit, but you know how shocking such information can be. I just need a bit to process, y’know? I’ll be fine though.”

You gave him a small smile, trying to read the thoughts behind his eyes. He just kept looking at you. You swear he looked at your lips a few times. Biting his lip, he asked “Can I wash your hair for you? No offense at all, I just wanted to offer because you never know when the next time we’ll get to be clean again.”

You nodded with a smile, sitting back against the porcelain tub, handing Sky the glass bottle of soap. As soon as he lathered his hands, he started massaging your scalp, a feeling you’ve missed so much.

“Fuck, Sky, that feels so good.” you said, not realizing the tone or implication you said it in.

Sky’s breath hitched, but you didn’t catch it, too busy on the sensations on your scalp.

“Yeah?” he whispered, looking at your bare shoulders that were littered with scars from your journey with them, wishing he could wash them away. He felt his ears get hot from your soft sounds, happy that you felt so comfortable and wishing you’d make those sounds more often domestic with him.

Suddenly the movement stops. Opening your eyes, you turn your head over your shoulder, almost jumping at how close his face is. Your gaze flickered to his lips, almost as if it was instinct.

“Sky… I-” “I’ll let you finish up.” And with that, he left, softly shutting the door behind him.

What the HELL is he thinking???

Sky gripped his hair, walking down the hallway, panting slightly.

He was so… close to you. He could smell the soap on your skin. He could see the different colors in your eyes. He felt strange. He knew he liked you… and not just as companions or friends… he wanted more. He felt happier, lighter since you came around. He genuinely laughed for the first time in ages.

It seemed like there was a spark of sorts between the two of you, but he didn’t want to assume or jump into anything… yet, at least. He needed a minute to calm down.

#yandere linked universe x reader #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #linked universe au #link x reader

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marlynnofmany · 5 months ago

Text

Rainy Day Eggs

The last delivery our ship made was to a dry planet with too much wind. I’d say it was nice to be somewhere with moisture in the air again, but this was a lot of rain. And while I can appreciate the scent of petrichor and the sound of raindrops on the roof as much as the next Earthling, our current setup was a smidge inconvenient.

Paint asked, “Are you sure we don’t want to use the cargo bay instead?” She peeked past my elbow through the personnel door. “I feel like a wet floor there is less of a slipping hazard.”

“Maybe, but the awning doesn’t fit,” I told her, pointing up at the portable thing that came with this spaceport’s landing pad. It was made for single-person entrances, a hovering pink rectangle tethered to the ground with some kind of localized tractor beam. It stuck to the ship nicely, and hadn’t let so much as a drop sneak past to drip down my shirt, but it wouldn’t have fit over the cargo bay entrance.

“I thought we were going to use one of the bigger landing pads,” Paint said, surprise on her lizardy face as she looked out at the spaceport. “I know our ship is on the small side, but this spot looks tiny!”

“It is,” I said. “That douchnozzle over there sniped our spot.” I pointed at the sporty red single-person cruiser that was currently hogging a courier space. I’d heard Wio swear from the cockpit when she had to adjust our approach because the jerk zipped in front of us. I’d seen the nice big awning crumple down to fit his jerkmobile. After we’d landed in a spot almost too small for us, I’d seen him stroll away with fancy clothes and a force field umbrella, and he hadn’t come back yet.

He was a human, too. Not that I was bitter about any of that.

Paint huffed. “How rude! Well at least we have the comfort of knowing that the kind of person to do that is likely to make their own life harder every day.”

“You’re right on that count,” I agreed. “I can just imagine how much his food gets spit in when he eats at restaurants.”

This concept was a new one as far as Paint was concerned, and we spent the next few minutes before our client arrived talking about unsanitary food sabotage. (She wasn’t a fan. Can’t say I blame her.)

The birdlike cargo of the day was making quiet cooing noises from its cage as the client approached: a slender Frillian who’d come prepared with a bubble-shielded hover cart. I greeted him and handled the electronic payment while Paint gave the cargo one last look over. The coos turned to anxious warbles.

I wanted to call them chickens, and I’m still not convinced that I’m far off, but while their speckled feathers reminded me of the Aracaunas I’d had as a kid, these guys had scaly jaws instead of beaks. Feathery little velociraptors, all puffed up into anxious feather-orbs and looking ready to bite.

I was grateful for both the cage and the awning.

“Here you go,” I said, passing over the cage with extreme care. It barely fit through the door. Luckily the dino-chickens were light, even when they flapped and hissed. The client got them onto the cart with practiced ease. I tried not to show how relieved I was. That cage going sideways to smash open on the rainy ground would have been disastrous.

“Oh wait!” Paint said from behind me. “What about the eggs?”

“Right, I forgot about those,” I said, turning to grab the bowl she held out, which I’d set in the hallway next to the cage. Three speckled eggs rolled merrily as I held it out to the client. “Do you want these? They laid them on the way here, though they don’t seem interested in caring for them.”

He was busy strapping the cage down. “No thanks! They’re not fertilized. Just toss ‘em in your bio-recycler or whatever. Have a great day!” A fresh wave of rain pounded down between us.

“All right, thank you!” I waved goodbye and stepped back inside the ship, closing the hatch. With the rain shut out, the silence felt loud.

“I’ll mop up the water,” Paint volunteered. She pointed at where a spray of raindrops had managed to blow in on the wind. “Watch your step.”

“Thanks.” I held the bowl of rolling eggs in one hand, and the payment tablet in the other. I stepped carefully.

“And make sure you sanitize that bowl!”

“Oh, I will,” I said. “But before I just throw these away, I think it’s time for a rousing game of ‘who thinks these are food?’”

Paint regarded me with a mix of skepticism and disgust. “Really?”

I grinned at her. “Don’t worry, I’ll have Eggskin scan them first.”

“You do that!”

Still grinning, I put away the tablet and did that. Eggskin was in the medical bay, which was next to the kitchen, which was convenient, because Eggskin was in charge of both. They were the most knowledgeable cook/medic I’d ever met.

They didn’t make any fun expressions when I handed over the bowl, not so much as lifting a scaly browridge. They just set to scanning and analyzing like the professional lizardy alien they were.

(I still haven’t told them that the color of their scales reminds me of boogers, and I don’t ever plan to.)

The machine dinged. Eggskin tapped a few buttons, cross-referencing something on the intelligent species database.

“You can’t eat these,” they declared.

“What? Why not?” I was honestly shocked. Humanity’s omnivorous nature had made me used to being the one who could eat everybody’s food.

“There is a significant level of a toxin that would cause vomiting and worse,” Eggskin informed me. “Looks like your people call it tremetol.”

That made a memory ding. “Wait, like the kind from white snakeroot? The kind cows eat, and gives people milk sickness?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Eggskin said drily. “In my personal opinion, all milk is likely to cause sickness, but you’re welcome to your mammal tendencies. Just don’t eat these.”

“Aw, man,” I said. “Is it poisonous to everybody?”

“Let me check.” Eggskin brought up another species. “Looks like Mesmers aren’t affected.”

A voice from the doorway asked, “By what?” and I realized the quiet clicking noises had been Zhee’s feet. His big bug eyes peered in with some very nosy curiosity for someone without a nose.

I said, “By a toxin in the eggs that our animal cargo laid.”

Zhee tilted his head. “Good to know that something I don’t plan to touch will not harm me.”

Eggskin said, “The conversation was about eating them.”

“Ew.” He tilted his head at a more extreme angle and raised his pincher arms as if in defense. “Why?”

I sighed. “Apparently they’re poisonous to some of us.”

“Oh no,” Zhee deadpanned. “What a loss.”

Eggskin asked, “Want me to dispose of them?”

“I guess so,” I said. “Looks like all they’re good for is egging houses. Or spaceships.” I paused to think. “I wonder if they’d do the same kind of damage to the exterior that they do to car paint. It’d get washed away by the rain today anyway.”

“Spaceships like a certain red piece of excrement?” Zhee angled his long body sideways to let someone pass. “The captain would likely deem that unwise.”

I opened my mouth to answer, but Captain Sunlight beat me to it.

“Unwise is one word for it,” she said as she stepped into view and paused instead of passing. Her scaly yellow face wore a scowl. “But that’s the same egghole who nearly sideswiped Kamm’s ship last week; I just checked. Now, we’re about to take off, but if the door happens to open and close before we do, I will be conveniently looking the other way.” She made eye contact, then strolled off toward the cockpit.

Zhee and Eggskin looked at me. I looked at them. Then I grabbed the bowl of eggs and legged it toward the hatch.

As the crewmember with the best throwing arm, and the same species as the egghole in question, it was only fitting that I deliver the karma.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

#my writing #The Token Human #humans are weird #haso #hfy #eiad #humans are space orcs #writeblr #writblr

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thoughtsfromlayla · 29 days ago

Text

26 Ways of Taking You: L for Lactation

Summary: Pregnant with his child and in pain, Morpheus helps release some stress.

Notes: ~ 1.7k words, here it be upon ye thine unholy smut for thoust second week of thy Kinktober

Warnings/Tags: MDNI - 18+, heavily pregnant reader, nipple play, Morpheus drinks breast milk from the tits, fingering, orgasm denial, oral fem receiving, it's giving mommy issues

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

K for Kleptomaniac ⇆ M for Muzzle

“How are you today, beloved?” Morpheus breaks your silence in the spacious room.

“Everything is horrible, Morpheus,” you whine, your body starfishing over the large and cooling bed.

Your lover merely chuckles as he comes closer, the bed shifting under his weight as Morpheus sits by your side. His hand gently covers your round and growing stomach, a sight he will never tire of. Morpheus caresses the pregnant belly, even leaning his cheek to the skin to get as close as possible to the growing child.

“You did this to me, you and your stupid dick,” you groan in annoyance, pushing him away with the back of your toe in defeat.

You push yourself into a sitting position, your head hits the headboard with a soft thud, and your entire body pulses with subtle pain. You’re hot and cold at the same time, irritable to say the least, and craving dirt for some reason or another.

“I want dirt,” you voice your thoughts aloud with another defeated sigh.

“To consume?” Morpheus asks as he watches you close your eyes with a frown digging into your forehead.

“Get me dirt,” you demand, your hand shooing at the air.

“I am not allowing you to consume soil of all substances.”

“Then do something about this,” you growl out, your patience growing thin.

You gesture towards your general body, how the summer heat makes even the thin nightgown you wear sticks to your skin. The baby kicks you in your ribs and you groan out a whine, the little bastard is already as much of a pain in your ass as your husband.

Well, that’s wrong to say. You love your husband, adore him, really. But why is his child so… fucking huge? You felt like a recently hatched baby dragon, stomping and huffing everywhere you went. Morpheus would say you were always hungry (for dirt is a new one, however) and that there were several times when he touched you and the Dream Lord swore you would start breathing fire down on him.

“As you wish, dear wife,” Morpheus concedes, crawling slowly back over to you until he hovers just over you. “Hm, now this position is familiar.”

“It’s how this happened in the first place,” you say with a sharp breath out of your nose. Your swollen belly brushes against his navel even though he is holding himself up.

Morpheus only smiles softly. Even when you’re at your worst, he can never find it in him to get angry at you. Not when you look so perfect like this, breast and belly swollen with what is his, your body taking his seed so beautifully as you grow his child.

“Where does it hurt, love?” He asks instead when he pulls himself out of his thoughts. His hand caresses the side of your stomach and it seems like the baby could feel its father’s touch, relaxing inside your womb.

“Everywhere,” you repeat, sighing and relaxing with the child. “My breasts are sore.”

“They are beautiful and swelling with milk,” Morpheus whispers reverently as he comes ever closer.

“I know why,” you groan out again, your annoyance spiking. “I just wish they weren’t.”

“Shall I relieve the pressure?” Morpheus chuckles, a deep rumbling sound in the back of his throat, like thunder along the horizon. “Shall I have you beg for it?”

“Morpheus, I will kick you in the goddamn balls and you will never, never get—”

“Yes, yes, beloved,” Morpheus concedes, he knows you will do it, too.

Morpheus doesn’t wait another moment, his hands pulling at the thin material that makes your nightgown. His fingers are cold against your heating skin, cooling the over sensitive swell of your breast. Your nipples perk against the cold feeling, a soft sigh leaving your lips at the touch. His larger hands cup your breast, his fingers moving to massage the tissue. The gasps you give him, the way you melt into his touch, it brings a smile onto his face. Morpheus would do anything to get you to make those sounds again.

He works on the other breast, continuing his ministrations as his eyes never leave yours. Being mindful of your belly, he leans in, taking your lips in his in a soft but meaningful kiss. Morpheus can taste the indulgences you had last, some honey figs and jam, sweet and soft against his own tongue as he dives deeper.

“Morpheus,” you murmur against his lips, licking his bottom one as you try to chase him.

Your husband merely shushes you, pulling himself back down to your breasts. They no longer hurt, thankfully, the fluid movements of his hands working out just as he planned. Morpheus did not plan however, the way your milk started to leak out of your nipples, the whitish-yellow substance of colostrum dewing on your breast.

Morpheus could smell it, the sweetness of your milk leaving you and his teeth ached with the undeniable want of something sweet on his tongue. You could feel his soft breath over the sensitive and perk nipple, your hand coming up to rake through his unruly hair.

You’re about to ask him what he was thinking, why he is frozen, hovering a mere inch from your chest. Before you can, his lips latch around your nipple and your mouth drops open in a silent moan, your head tilting back to the headboard again. Morpheus groans, the vibration shooting through the sensitive bud as he drinks from you.

His tongue laps at the nipple, sucking, licking, as he demanded your body to give him more. The sweet taste of your breast milk to coat his tongue. It is so warm, so sweet, so perfectly made by you and your body in response to the child that he gave you.

Morpheus could feel himself harden at the mere prospect, but he needed more. “Sweetness,” he whispers as his lips cross over the valley of your breasts to take the other into his mouth. His fingers trail down the sides of your swollen stomach, taking a moment to swipe across the bottom of it, to feel his child kick against his palm, before continuing to the dripping cunt between your legs.

“Give me more, beloved,” Morpheus demands gently, his fingers pushing aside the fabric of your underwear, bunching the fabric of your nightgown above your thighs.

Morpheus didn’t want to push you too far, but he is indeed greedy for something more. His fingers probe at your entrance, until he sinks one inside. The gasps that he managed to elicit from your mouth is everything he needs. He pumps his finger softly, matching a rhythm to how he suckled on your breasts.

“Just like that, Morpheus,” you whine into nothing, your fingers gripping at his hair, the other hand over his as he keeps himself from laying on your stomach. Gods, it felt so good. “More… I need more.”

Morpheus answers your pleas with another digit, pulling and pushing it back in a tantalizing slow pace. But it is perfect, so perfect against your over sensitive body. His thumb comes into play, circling tight circles around your engorged clit and your hips buck into his palm. His fingers press upwards, pushing into the sensitive spot that has you turning into putty in his expert, lithe, fingers.

“Do you want to come for me?” Morpheus asks lowly, softly kissing his love across your large chest.

“Yes, yes!” You chant with a whimper just as Morpheus presses the flat of his tongue over a nipple.

“I wish to taste it,” he comments, and just as he knows you’re about to orgasm, just when you have reached the very edge of undeniable pleasure, he pulls his fingers away.

“What is wrong with you,” you growl out, your breath panting and ragged as you watch him lick the glistening slickness that he had drawn from your body.

“Patience,” Morpheus almost scolds you, but it held no real malice. “I will give you what you want, you must be patient.”

You watch Morpheus with lidded eyes as he licks his fingers clean. He hums in thought, letting the taste of your arousal mix with the thickness of the milk that still lingered on his tongue. Morpheus never had to eat, he could never die from hunger or thirst, but now, after tasting this meal for the king of kings, he can’t deny himself any longer.

Morpheus settles between your legs, wasting no time to press his tongue to your cunt, lapping at the arousal and leaving no drop behind. If your milk is sweet, then this is a tooth aching cavity with no cure. He could find himself stuck here, forever, suckling, licking, loving the taste of you on his tongue.

“Morpheus…” you gasp out, your nails digging into the bedsheet beneath you. Your damn belly prevents you from reaching out to his hair.

“Mhm…” he hums thickly, sticking his tongue into your weeping cunt. He loved the way you said his name, all needy and desperate—a mere mirror to how he felt now for you as well.

Morpheus’ hands hold onto your thighs, steadying the way it trembles around his head. His tongue pursues, keeping a steady rhythm at your clit and before you could ask him, he inserts his fingers back in.

“Oh, God,” you moan out, your eyes fluttering close. Your body starts to tense, the creeping feeling of your orgasm rising slowly like a simmer comes to a boil. Blink and you’ll miss it.

“No, beloved,” Morpheus corrects you between your legs.

“Right…” you breathe out in a chuckle, how could you forget? “Morpheus, Oneiros, Dream of the… Endless.”

“Much better,” he praises, his tongue still going for he knows your climax will come soon and he craves to taste it against his tongue.

“Prince of Stories, Lord of the Dreaming,” you continue, his titles coming to your mind like a ramble. “Dearest husband.”

Morpheus hums in content, his fingers digging into your thighs as you softly scream out his name again, this time your orgasm crashing over your body. It coats his entire chin as he pulls you impossibly close, the sinful sound of him drinking from you is the only sound in the room besides your hazy panting.

“Divine sweetness,” he groans against your thighs, wiping away the remnants against the soft skin. He leaves a few soft kisses against the skin, thanking you for his meal.

Can't believe this fic happened because I learned that human breast milk is sweeter than cow's milk and now you know that.

♡ Yours, Layla

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

K for Kleptomaniac ⇆ M for Muzzle

#the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #the sandman fanfic #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream x reader #sandman x reader #the sandman x reader #dream of the endless x reader smut #morpheus x reader smut #26 ways of taking you #kinktober #kinktober 2024

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erinkeifer · 1 year ago

Text

ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕞𝕪 𝕔𝕠𝕕𝕖 - ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕀𝕍

[Anakin Skywalker x Padawan!Fem Reader]

Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 Not My Code Masterlist

Summary: When Anakin was away on missions, all you could do was miss him and work at the temple. Now, on the eve of your knighting ceremony, Anakin returned, very exhausted, but you didn't hesitate to comfort him in a very special way.

Author note: I'm doing my best to make each part readable on its own, without knowledge of the previous ones, so no worries! If you don't want to catch up on the storyline, you can treat it as a one-shot!

Word Count: 4,2k

Though you won't admit it to anyone, you feel that as the ceremony approaches, your self-assurance is growing. The past few weeks have been difficult to endure - Anakin barely returned to the temple, and when he did, it was at night when you had no chance to see him. A few times, you communicated through comlinks, but he was never alone, so you waited very patiently.

However, contact with Anakin wasn't the only thing you lacked patience for during this time. Yesterday marked two weeks since you should have had your period, and if you hadn't gotten it today, your first meeting with Anakin after the separation would have been rather stressful.

Stepping out of the bathroom, a weight lifted off your heart - relieved of one worry, you walked to your wardrobe and chose one of your outfits that you had recently purchased.

In your spare time this week, you allowed yourself to spend a few credits in Coruscant, and since you had gazed at the luxurious boutique next to Luthen's antique shop, you decided to splurge a bit. You had always admired Mon Mothma's fashion, and when you discreetly observed her leaving that very shop during one of your missions, you took it as a true mark of quality.

One of your choices was a beautiful jumpsuit in a dark, iridescent purple, snug with a long, flowing overlay that embraced your shoulders, waist, and gently flared down, creating a gown-like effect. The bottom of it could be fastened, but today, you decided to leave it unfastened, revealing your legs adorned in the shimmering material and high, comfortable heeled shoes.

Leaving your quarters, you made sure your makeup looked flawless and ran your fingers through your unruly, long waves that majestically cascaded down your shoulders like a curtain.

The stretch of the corridor you were walking along, leaving your room, seemed empty, but just around the corner, you heard a familiar noise that piqued your curiosity.

"Hey there? Buddy?" you muttered under your breath, taking a few more steps forward before leaning out from behind a nearby pillar.

"Don't tell me you've been waiting here the whole time!" You smiled, placing your hands on your hips, catching your favorite droid hiding behind the wall. R2-D2 let out a series of chaotic beeps.

"I know, I know, I didn't hear you at all from behind the door." Thank goodness. At least you know Anakin's talk about soundproof rooms wasn't just hot air."

"Did you distribute everything? Didn't miss anyone?" you asked, to which R2 responded with affirmative beeps.

"Good job, my friend. You've earned my gratitude." You patted the droid on the head, and he beeped triumphantly.

With R2's response, you continued forward, walking at a calm pace toward the landing platform where Anakin and the crew would soon arrive. Your heart raced at the thought of reuniting with your master after weeks of waiting, but you tried to suppress any tension within you enough not to arouse any suspicions.

Riding the elevator with the friendly droid, you ascended one floor, and just a few seconds after entering another corridor, you heard familiar footsteps and voices.

"I think we all need a day off." you heard Rex say as he walked in the middle between Obi-Wan and Skywalker.

"Tell that to Master Yoda." Obi-Wan replied jokingly, and the three men laughed, but their eyes quickly landed on you as you walked slowly in their direction.

"Gentlemen." you nodded in greeting and smiled slightly, noticing a certain kind of surprise on their faces.

"Good morning, Ma'am. You're blooming!" Rex greeted, admiringly looking at you, and Anakin glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

"I have to agree with the Captain's words." Obi-Wan replied with a smile, which you immediately reciprocated.

"Thank you, General, thank you, Captain. It's a pleasure to finally see you. You too, Master." you said, standing tall, with your hands clasped behind your back, and your gaze finally landed on Anakin's eyes. Skywalker nodded, smiling at the corners of his mouth.

"Did you all receive invitations to tomorrow's ceremony? R2-D2 did his best to reach everyone." you asked with a smile, exchanging glances with the three of them.

"We all received them, and of course, we'll be there as a matter of duty. Thank you very much." Obi-Wan replied proudly, to which the rest of them smiled and nodded in agreement.

"I'm glad to hear that. I've heard rumors that your mission today was a success." you replied, wanting to show interest in what was happening around the temple.

"Absolutely. We're just heading to report with the Captain, and then, hopefully, it's time for some well-deserved rest." Kenobi answered, smiling warmly at Rex.

"And rightfully so. I've planned a very long day for tomorrow. Carry on with your duties, I won't keep you." you said, returning Kenobi's smile.

"General Skywalker, I assume that's all for today. We're leaving you with the Padawan." Rex replied before moving with Obi-Wan to the briefing room.

"Yes, I believe so. Give your report and head for some rest." Anakin responded, speaking for the first time during the conversation, and your gaze shifted toward him.

"Just don't kill each other." Kenobi quipped, turning in your direction as he and Captain Rex walked in the opposite direction of the corridor.

"We'll try." you sarcastically retorted, watching both men disappear from your sight.

"Hello, Master." you said to Skywalker when his friendly droid was the only one accompanying you.

"Hey." he responded with a warm tone, initially locking eyes with you, but after a moment, he looked you up and down.

You pretended not to notice his gaze, and though it was challenging to restrain a mischievous smile, you maintained a neutral expression. Anakin knelt down and glanced at his droid, almost as if checking to ensure that no harm had befallen him under your care.

"Missed him, did you?" you said, smiling at the sight of the Master and his faithful assistant.

"Thanks for looking after him." Anakin said, directing his gaze at you and then back at R2.

"It was a pleasure, as always. Besides, he performed quite well." you replied, still smiling.

"Was that so, R2? Did she do well too?" Anakin asked the droid, who beeped chaotically in response.

"All night? Seriously?" Skywalker retorted with feigned annoyance in his voice, turning his gaze to you and raising his eyebrows in surprise. Oh, shut up, you little troublemaker.

"Ooh, he came back in the night after distributing the invitations, and I was already asleep and didn't hear him through the door." you replied, narrowing your eyes at the droid who got you into this, to which Anakin smiled and stood up slowly.

"I'll punish her for that, I promise." he said, patting the droid on the head and pointing in the direction you both slowly started walking.

'I'll hold you to that promise.' you thought in your head as you walked alongside your two companions.

"Anyway, Master, I have two pieces of news: good and bad – which one do you want first?" you replied after a few silent steps, to which Anakin instantly sighed.

"Well, let's get the bad news out of the way first." he replied, turning his attention to you.

"So – it's not time for rest just yet. Yoda has planned a meeting with the younglings, and they're probably waiting for you already." Anakin sighed again and rolled his eyes.

"And the good news?"

"That's the last thing for today – unless the Separatists decide to change our plans – we're off duty for the rest of the day." You smiled, and Anakin's facial expression became slightly more optimistic.

"If you want, I can take R2 for a while, and you can deal with the younglings." you asked with a mischievous smile, subconsciously trying to avoid the tasks you didn't particularly enjoy.

"Oh no, not this time. You're coming with me. It's not just my show." Anakin immediately replied, knowing how much you would like to get out of it.

"Ouch." you muttered under your breath, and the expression on your face dropped.

"No sighing. Get it together, Padawan." Anakin smiled at the corners of his mouth and gave you a motivational nudge on the shoulder.

...................................................................................................................

Perhaps it was supposed to be your joint 'show,' but Anakin certainly struggled more with it. After the training and a long series of presenting new techniques along with answering the kids' questions, the group thanked both of you, and it was time for a well-deserved rest.

"I don't know about you, but I feel like I've been through the wringer." Anakin said, closing the training room door behind you.

Before leaving, you managed to tidy up, collect the props that had been brought from another location, and basically, all that was left was to return them to where they were taken from and head to your respective quarters.

"A bit better, but only a bit. After all, I wasn't the one on a mission today." you smiled, watching Anakin turn the key.

"Uh, right. This way." Skywalker directed, and you headed towards the storage room for training props.

The setting sun tinted the sky with a purple hue, and the temple was beautifully illuminated at this time, feeding your gaze with a beautiful view until you descended to the covered rooms one floor below, where the storage room awaited you. Soon, you emptied your hands there.

"I guess that's it." Anakin said, shaking off his hands and leaning against the wall in the dark room.

"I guess so." you replied, shrugging. Finally, you left the dingy room and closed the door behind you, heading in opposite directions.

"You should go and rest, and I... Well, I guess the first thing is to wash this off me." you said, turning away from Anakin, standing with your back to him. Your hands were dirty from the dust, and even your face had some unwanted spots that you gained inadvertently by touching it.

"Not just you." Anakin replied, pointing to the muddy traces on his clothes and skin.

"On me?" he added after a moment, and you didn't fully understand what he meant by that.

"What do you mean?" you asked.

"We can go to my place. Your quarters are on the other side of the Temple, mine's practically around the corner." Anakin clarified, and a green light lit up in your mind. You absolutely didn't want to finish this day alone, and truth be told, you were secretly hoping for it.

"Lead the way." you smiled, and without adding anything else, you headed towards Anakin's quarters, accompanied by R2, who was still with you.

Well, Anakin wasn't lying at all – his quarters were less than a minute away from the storage room, and as soon as you reached the door, you felt a certain kind of tension within you.

You remembered this place; you had been here for a moment when, a few years ago, at Kenobi's command, you had to find Anakin due to a sudden call from the crew. You recalled how much Skywalker didn't want you here – and what stuck in your memory the most was the sight of a woman, none other than Padmé Amidala. That day, you learned about their relationship, but that's already history.

"Come on in, feel free." Anakin's voice snapped you out of the flood of memories, and in the blink of an eye, you returned to reality. With slow steps, you entered the room, and behind you came your Master's friendly droid – well, at least it attempted to enter.

"R2, do me a favor, buddy." Skywalker said to the droid, who directed its indicators toward him as if it started to listen attentively.

"Stay outside and keep an eye in case someone unwanted would be lurking around, okay?" Anakin requested, to which the droid beeped in agreement and retreated behind the door.

"Thanks." he smiled and slowly closed the quarters' door.

Wait, didn't Anakin mention once that on his stretch of the corridor, nobody really hangs around because there's no reason to? Hm, anyway...

His quarters weren't just ordinary quarters. You stood in a spacious, beautifully, albeit somewhat dimly, decorated apartment with a kitchen, living room, bathroom, and a terrace – the latter particularly catching your attention.

The beautifully situated terrace revealed the best view of the cityscape, and in its secluded corner, there was a bar and a large jacuzzi, ingeniously incorporated into the robust structure of the building. On the other side of the terrace, you could see the balconies of guest apartments, which at the moment exuded emptiness.

Well... It's impressive.

"Today's a bit too cold for that." Anakin spoke from behind you as he saw you looking at the outdoor jacuzzi.

"But I can invite you in here." he added after a moment, gesturing for you to follow him, and headed to the bathroom. It was much more spacious than yours – besides the shower, there was also a bathtub, and frankly, you didn't know what you'd prefer for today.

Once both of you were inside, Anakin closed the door behind you and without hesitation began to remove his robes.

"Shit." he muttered under his breath, and you quickly noticed that his issue was with the fabric stuck to a wound, which, when pulled off, caused quite some discomfort.

"Let me..." you reached for his robes to do it more gently and as painlessly as possible.

"Well, at least somewhat lighter than last time..." you remarked, revealing rather fresh, though less extensive, wounds on his chest. It was worse when it came to bruises – you weren't surprised he felt like he'd been through the wringer.

"Have you checked this in the Med Bay? Something might be fractured..." you asked, looking with concern at the purplish marks on Skywalker's body.

"Nah, nothing major. Thanks." he replied, taking back his robes from you and tossing them into the laundry basket.

You weren't sure whether to start undressing yourself; you were sore too, though not for the same reasons as Anakin, and frankly, you didn't know how to tell him that today, there wouldn't be anything 'interesting' happening.

Skywalker, on the other hand, didn't hesitate to remove his pants and boxers, then took two towels from the hanger, tossing one in your direction.

"Won't you join?" he asked, stepping into the shower cabin. Finally, you tore your eyes away from the mirror where you examined your slightly stained face, and had to admit it to yourself again – his body was intimidating.

Your heart raced faster, and though you didn't know what to say, you took off the upper part of your jumpsuit, standing in front of Anakin in just tight pants. Skywalker scanned your bare chest, and before – as usual – you instinctively began to cover yourself, he pulled you into the – still dry – shower cabin.

"Still got that same tic, sunshine?" he whispered, standing very close, his face near yours, taking your waist in a strong grip.

"You have no idea what you did to me in this... outfit." he continued, bringing his face to your ear.

"But you know what's wrong?" he murmured, gently tilting your chin in his direction with a slight movement of his hand.

"That I haven't ripped the rest of your clothes off yet."

At that moment, you felt your back forcefully collide with the wall, and you let out a slight hiss, not even noticing when Anakin's hands reached for the zipper of your pants.

"Anakin, please, wait..." Although Skywalker's hands trembled with desire, your dramatic tone halted his further movements, and his eyes landed on yours.

"I... I can't." you said with a hint of disappointment in your voice.

"Why?"

"You know... I'm bleeding." you blushed, trying to gently withdraw Anakin's hands from your zipper.

"Darling, you know I really don't have a prob..." he started, but you quickly interrupted him,

"I know, but... Somehow I can't. And it hurts a bit too much..." you replied, and only after a moment did you process in your mind the term Anakin used to address you – 'Darling'... You felt like melting for a moment.

"I can leave your underwear on if that's okay with you, but just be here with me, okay?" he suggested.

"I mean... You can take everything off; I'm protected... We just won't..."

"Okay, sure..." he replied, and following your words, he slid your pants and underwear off.

When all the clothes were lying on the floor, Anakin closed the shower cabin's door and gently let the water flow. In the first moments, he didn't move, just watched. He watched as your body became increasingly wet and shimmered with water droplets falling onto it.

You made the first move, gently embracing him at the waist and nestling into the wet strands of hair falling on his shoulders. Soon, however, you felt as if some demon had awakened in Skywalker – his strong arms gripped you around the waist and turned you towards the wall, so you collided with it with your breasts, while Anakin pressed his body against yours from behind.

"You have no idea... Damn... You have no idea how you would fight for survival on this wall if I could fuck you right now." he muttered into your ear with a hoarse, needy voice, colliding with your body and simultaneously pressing you against the wall.

"You'd have worse bruises than mine, you know that???" You responded only with soft moans, feeling how his words ignited you from within. Suddenly, he turned your body back to face him.

"Kiss me." he whispered, and you didn't hesitate, just pressed your wet lips against his. The kiss lingered; when you ran out of breath, you pulled away for a second, so he could slip his tongue back into your mouth after a while.

Moment by moment, it became increasingly sloppy, and your hands wandered chaotically over each other's bodies. Soon, you parted your lips from each other—only a thin thread of your saliva separated them.

You looked at him and saw how painfully hard he was; you gently touched his lower abdomen when he didn't take his eyes off you.

"How can I take care of you?" you whispered, returning your gaze to your Master, who took a moment to think.

"Kneel."

One word was enough for you to start feeling like your heart was about to leap out of your chest. Without breaking eye contact with Anakin, you complied with his request and slowly bent down on your knees, ultimately kneeling before him on the wet shower floor.

He smiled at the corners of his mouth as his hand caressed your face, and his fingers traced a ticklish path across your cheeks. Finally, one of his fingers began to wander over your lips, eventually stopping and gently parting them.

"Open your mouth."

Obediently, you did as your master commanded, and although you expected something different, Anakin inserted two fingers into your mouth. Without taking his eyes off you, he slid them in as deep as possible, as if testing you.

He watched attentively every one of your grimaces, and the longer he looked, the more painful his desire became. When he 'prepared' your lips and felt he was on the edge, he withdrew his fingers from your mouth and pivoted his body closer, almost touching his length to your face.

"Do it for me." he whispered, and you swallowed saliva, wanting to please him in the best possible way but also fearing you wouldn't handle his massive size. To start, you wanted to assist yourself with your hands—placing them at the base—but he gently set them aside.

"For now, just your mouth, please." he muttered, and you nodded, placing your hands on his hips, trying not to squeeze too tightly around the bruised areas.

Finally, you took a deep breath and enveloped the tip of his erection with your lips, suctioning and teasing it lightly with your tongue. Anakin hissed softly, feeling the touch of your lips on his throbbing, sensitive point, while you gradually tried to test your boundaries.

You pressed your lips against his shaft and began maneuvering them with a sliding motion, so far unable to reach even halfway. Anakin's quiet moans were music to your ears, motivating you to maintain your pace—a pace he thought he had already outlined in his wicked plan.

Soon, you felt his trembling but strong fingers grabbing your hair, first with his mechanical hand, then adding the other, initially without applying pressure.

The sound of his deep, increasingly rapid breaths, the gentle stream of water, and the wet sound of your lips sliding along his length filled your ears—enough to make you feel ecstatic, but at the same time, you felt a blockage. You were afraid of choking, afraid of embarrassing yourself, and he knew it all along, piercing you not only with his gaze but also with his mind.

"D-do you remember what I said when we were heading to training?" he muttered above you, and you released him from your mouth for a moment to look at him questioningly.

"Do you mean..." you began to wonder, but he didn't let you.

"I promised to punish you." Hearing his words, you could simultaneously see something beastly awakening in him, and his dilated pupils buried in you widened.

"Take it." he growled, and you repositioned your mouth as before, continuing what you hadn't finished. Suddenly, you felt the pressure of his hands on your head, and your mouth filled even more.

Your eyes narrowed more and more, and your lips grew numb as his wicked smile spread across his face. Taking one of his hands off your head, he patted your cheek when you involuntarily crossed over half of his length, and tears welled up in your eyes. You thought you could somehow adjust your throat to him, but all that remained for you was to accept your fate when suddenly he began to fulfill what he desired so much. He thrust straight into your throat.

For a moment, it felt like you were falling apart, and when he did it a second time, the tears accumulated in your eyes instantly splashed onto your cheeks.

"Oh my... Fuck!" Anakin almost shouted, feeling how hopelessly you clenched onto him.

You were so overwhelmed by the intense sensation that it belatedly occurred to you that you were practically choking. Impulsively, you pulled away from Anakin, somehow overpowering the grip of his hands, but he still wasn't as strong as he planned.

"Don't even think..." he growled, thrusting again into your mouth, but before this—fortunately—you managed to quickly take a deep breath.

"Keep going... Just a bit more... -Fuck... A little more." he muttered, breathing heavily and trembling with excitement, watching you take his thrusts painfully.

You whimpered, choking on his length, and he fucked your face until your lips reached the very base. As he felt your trembling hands digging into his bruised hips, his loud moans mixed with growls, punishing you for it, pressing you against him so hard that he didn't even consider that you might vomit at any moment.

"I'm... Oh fuck... Oh f-fuck." Anakin began to choke on his own voice as he felt his orgasm approaching, and his back forcefully hit the shower wall as he tried to maintain balance.

His hands were numb as he climaxed, so when he didn't press you so hard anymore, you helped yourself with your hands, jerking him with great force until you finally felt his warm cum filling your mouth. His own throat muffled the screams he could have let out—he groaned and panted above you with clenched eyes until he emptied himself completely. When he finished, he grabbed the wall next to him to gain any balance.

You slumped hopelessly onto the wet shower floor, trying to catch your breath. Your makeup was smeared, and mascara ran down your face in numerous teary streaks. Both of you were detached from the galaxy at that moment—you had no strength for anything, not even to simply leave the shower. After a few minutes of regaining your breath, Anakin slowly turned off the water tap, and the only sound that reached his ears at that moment was your—still quite rapid—breathing.

When he felt less numb, he opened the shower door and, smoothing your back beforehand, carried you out of the cabin. You calmed down, feeling his pulsating chest so closely, and without saying anything—without even having the strength—you simply waited for the next scenario.

Exiting the bathroom, he immediately guided you towards the spacious bed that awaited just around the corner, and the next thing you felt was the touch of a soft mattress.

After gently placing you on the bed, Anakin handed you a blanket, which he eventually decided to spread himself. Before lying down, he sat beside you, smiling at the corners of his mouth at the sight of your exhausted face.

"Now it's time to rest."

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gwouinaelle · 6 months ago

Text

Drawing inspired by the fic of @aliesafenlock "Her Heart is Fit for Home"!!

I love this fic so much and who doesn't need a bit of Susan!Danny in their life? And here's a close up because I'm kinda proud of their expressions:

The snippet that got me:

“Do you dance, Mrs. Danvers?”

Her reverie broken, the housekeeper scoffed at the unexpected question. “Who would want to dance with a withered-up old woman like me?”

“First of all, you are neither old nor withered,” Mrs. de Winter countered. “And secondly, I would! Very much,” she added with a smile.

“Madam.” Mrs. Danvers was taken aback. “Surely you’ve got better things to do with your time.”

“If my memory serves, I did not get to dance at the ball,” the young woman pointed out reasonably, “so you owe me at least one dance, Mrs. Danvers.”

I can't be seriously considering this, the housekeeper thought as she prepared a polite refusal, but her voice caught in her throat as she took in Mrs. de Winter looking at her expectantly. Her eyes were sparkling with hope, her hand extended in a silent invitation, and Mrs. Danvers felt her resolve evaporate. Suddenly, she couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing Mrs. de Winter today as she had done in the past.

“All right then,” she allowed softly. “Perhaps just this once.”

Mrs. Danvers took the young woman’s outstretched hand with some trepidation, expecting it to feel awkward and ungainly. She became acutely aware of how comfortably their bodies fit together as her free hand rested on Mrs. de Winter’s waist. Mrs. Danvers led instinctively and was relieved to find she still knew her way around a slow dance. Her initial reluctance gave way to a quiet joy as she watched her companion’s eyes gleam with delight. With every step they held each other a little closer, and the housekeeper began feeling light-headed.

The record wound down and their movements slowed, then finally stopped. They stood quietly in a gentle embrace, neither of them willing to break the spell and lose their closeness. In the silence, the air between them became charged with expectation. Mrs. de Winter lifted her eyes to study her companion’s face, finding it transformed from its rigid, severe beauty to looking achingly vulnerable. The young woman was suddenly overcome with a wave of affection so intense, she had to reach out and place her palm against Mrs. Danvers’ cheek.

#mrs danvers #rebecca das musical #danvich #rebecca daphne du maurier #susan rigvava dumas #i'm very proud of this #first time i've done a complete background

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historia-vitae-magistras · 11 months ago

Note

41. “Sleep. I’ll keep you safe.”

This one hurts so good

Unedited fic is unedited. Set in 1918, at the end of the war when Matt is trying to limp his way through the absolute slog of shit that was the proto-blitzkrieg of the last months of the war. Alfred is trying to pretend he's not avoiding trench duty at the Meuse–Argonne because of the trauma of the American Civil War. I was inspired by my Canadian great-grandfather coming home with American buttons on his coat instead of British or Canadian maple leaves that I inherited and made into earrings, lol.

October, 1918

“Give me a hand, Mattie, fuck.” Alfred cursed all the way up as the tailgate of the troop truck dropped. He was stuck on the single cobblestone that managed to give any traction under the three inches of mud. But it may as well have been concrete, for all he could leverage himself out. In the silvery light of the following truck waiting for its turn to round the corner of the checkpoint, Matt was only a hunched-over figure and a pair of gloved hands that grasped him by the wrists and managed to swing him free. His pack landed with a thud ten seconds before he did, and he was pulled roughly to his feet, and his ass finally found a bench. Almost instantly, the cold wood bit through his layers. Matt had disappeared down the benches and into the dark shelter of the canvas cover.

A‌ soldier, looking beat to shit, offered him a light, and he handed out cigarettes, bribing his way into goodwill. They were all lightly dusted in snow, and sleet battered collars turned up even as it got dryer.

“You’re under Lieutenant Williams, yeah? Where’d he get too?”

Weary soldiers nodded up under the cover.

“Mattie!” Alfred handed his cigarette to another man and cupped two hands over his mouth to shout over the engines. “What’re you avoiding me for? Get your sorry ass down here before I‌ start telling embarrassing stories about you.”‌

No response, no movement. Soldiers looked confused.

“Well, kiddo, guess I’m just going to have to start telling folks about—”

“Just what the fuck is so important—”‌ Matt appeared, just like that, steadying himself on the shoulder of one of his men. They glanced up, a little protective, a little annoyed. Alfred didn’t register it. Matt was a trembling pillar, his face a bright, sharp point above his uniform like a flame over a candle dyed dark with soot.

“You look like shit.”‌ Alfred raised a hand to grab Mattie’s shoulder and he slapped the hand away with a dark expression. The message was clear. He was a leader here, an officer of the ‌British army, not Alfred’s baby brother. Another word and Alfred would be tossed off the back of the truck to enforce the silence.

"Don't use me as a distraction to get out of combat." Matt snapped and disappeared back under the canvas, and Alfred let him. At least it was warmer there. He wasn't avoiding anything.

Soldiers stared at him, and he felt sweaty despite the fall air. He wasn't avoiding anything. Just because he'd had six planes shot out from under him in as many weeks and the thought of another stint in a trench made him want to die didn't mean he didn't care. He offered up cigarettes with a smile, bribing his own Americans up with him.

“Headed up to the line anyways,” He made small talk with the soldiers around him, as popular for his cigarette supply as he was for the chocolate constantly in his coat pockets. Some of them were Americans, volunteering before the US joined the war. Boys from New York, Wisconsin, and other places had easily slid across the border without needing real paperwork. The convoy slid north on the icy roads, following the advance to leapfrog ahead of the infantry currently on the front line and pushing forward to relieve the men presently fighting their way back into Belgium. He dozed between them, one of them. He didn't much like his own under a British flag, but it felt... Solid somehow, that it was with Matt. At least it wasn't the sour old fart. He was thinking about Christmas when he was startled awake.

He awoke to coughing. Everyone had a bit of one, the rough soldier’s coughs that everyone had at some point. But this was horrible, and it was constant, drawing into someone’s lungs. And he recognized it. Alfred was instantly on his feet, weaving through the legs of sleepy men. He flung open a canvas flap and took the lantern swinging on the canvas, support in hand.

Matt was sitting, barely supported between two soldiers, his helmet off, the pale of before replaced with a violent flush, mouth open to breathe, trying to suck in air. His chin was tucked into his chest, and the coughing had not stopped.

“You don’t look so good, sir.” One of the sergeants said. Matt looked up.

“Just cold.” He said, trying to smile. “Everyone’s just cold. We’ll get moving and warm up, eh?”

The laugh he forced just turned into more coughing. Alfred stood there, lantern in hand. The soldiers around Matt looked protective, staring at him like he was an enemy they needed to hide their vulnerable commander from. Then, one sidled up to him. A boy from Wisconsin with a crop of ruddy curls. He pat Alfred on the arm and knew instantly he was a mechanic’s son from Green Bay, nestled right against Canada’s belly on the Great Lakes.

“We took the edge of a gas shell last week, and he’s been coughing like that since. Won’t listen to anyone and get a rest because there’s a shortage of officers.”

“Christ’s sake,” Alfred muttered. He sidled between bodies and inserted himself between his brother and one sergeant. He popped Matt’s helmet on and got close. The professional kind of close, resisting the urge to cradle Matt like he had their entire lives.

“There’s a casualty clearing half a mile up the road. Get fed, get dry, get some sober sack time, and I’ll make sure I get you in a goddamn staff car and back up the line before they’re assaulting anything, all right?‌ Hand to God, I‌ will get you back up here if you get some fucking rest.”

Matt was still, sweating now and fading to pale. He was shaking. And then he nodded.

“Hallelujah, you stupid bastard.” Alfred muttered.

He got Matt down the end of the truck as it jolted along, hands under his brother’s arms. His coat flapped open, and Alfred batted it away from him, annoyed.

“Button your fucking coat before you get pneumonia.”‌

A deep, curdled-chest cough was his response.

“Can’t.” Matt gasped. “Got caught on a bit of wire while we were digging funk holes, tugged right off.”

Alfred sighed.

“Okay, you poor dumb fuck. Give it here.”

Matt looked confused, and Alfred resisted the urge to feel his forehead. Instead, he shrugged his great coat off.

“Swap me.” He said. Matt just stared. Alfred huffed.

“You’re freezing.”

“I’m used to it.” He said and crossed his arms over his unfastened coat. “I‌ was fucking born cold, I’ll die cold, and there’s not fuck all anyone can do about it in between.”

“Except give you a decent fucking coat you melodramatic shit.” Alfred was this close to smacking upside the head. He felt guilty for even having the thought as Matt exploded into coughing again. He dipped forward, collapsing into the bench at the far end of the truck bed, and Alfred gripped him by the waist, suddenly frightened he’d vomit or tumble over the tailgate and into the mud-churned roads. He pulled him back and took the opportunity to pull his coat off and wrap him in the better American one. Matt glared the entire time, but words were constricted by the endless wheezing when he went to speak. Alfred shoved his arms into the coat sleeves and buttoned it up, the American eagles shining in the lantern light. Matt glared daggers for a split second before he dragged in an inhale so violent he gagged. Every other soldier in the truck looked away. Alfred's chest hurt just listening.

At the next crossroads, American Red Cross nurses half-staffed the Casualty Clearing Station, and Alfred gave their commander his best, crooked, beaming smile and a wink. They gave him one of the visitor’s huts with a stove, a corrugated roof and two cots with clean sheets. Matt could barely stay on his feet. The mud sucked at his boots, and Alfred hauled him along. He considered picking Matt up entirely but wasn’t fully convinced the brass knuckles he’d mailed Matt years back had been lost somewhere along the way and wouldn’t end up embedded in his kidneys. At least not the way Matt was glaring.

He deposited Matt on a bed, dumped water from the pitcher and wash basin into a tin pot resting on the stove and cranked the stove as high as he could. It’d been almost 200 years since he’d needed someone to boil water and strange herbal plants and shove him and all the steam it could produce under a blanket.

Matt immediately listed to the side like a poorly loaded plane.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Alfred hadn’t even sat down yet. “Don’t be stubborn. Just breathe some fucking steam until you don’t sound like you’re about to die.”

“Sorry,” Came a very faint croak.

He frowned and peeked under the wool blanket. Matt had collapsed onto his side, and his eyes were squeezed shut, breathing too shallow to make him cough, but it still didn’t sound like he was getting enough of it.

“Hey.” Alfred pushed what was left of Matt’s damp curls off his forehead. He looked so strange with hair this short. It’d been shorn when Francis gave him up, and the look on him still made him look just as abandoned, even fully grown and in British green. The thought was as gone as quickly as it came.

“You are burning.” Alfred pressed a hand to his forehead. Matt’s eyes hadn’t opened. He made a gentle sound of acknowledgment but didn’t speak, like it didn’t surprise him.

“Have you had the flu yet?”‌

“No.”

“Is this—?”‌

“No.” He said. “This just… happens sometimes. I‌ didn’t take the pills because I just— wanted some sleep.”

Still wearing Matt’s coat, Alfred stuck his hand in the pocket. Unmarked bottles of pills. He only recognized the contents of one of the bottles as aspirin.

“Do I‌ want to know what’s in these?”

“No.”

“Can I ask where you got them?”

“Zee, Uncle Alasdair, Dad.”

“Let me guess, none of them knew who else was giving you what. God I am going to ban everything when we get home. Temperance is just the begin—”

Alfred was feeling uncharacteristically like a responsible older brother, ready to give Matt a whole hellfire and brimstone Baptist lecture for a moment before Matt spoke.

“I’m just glad you’re here.” He found his brother looking up at him, gratitude as evident on his face as misery.

The heavy eyes and distinctly sick flush belied an expression Alfred didn't see often. It came fast on the heels of father's anger or Matt's fear dissolving. Grateful, instantly secure and safe usually snuggled up in Alfred's side, burrowed there against his own madness or the household's hostility. He blinked and Alfred felt horrible as he teared up and then exhaled, pushing away the emotion.

But there was still something small to him. “I miss you more when I’m this pathetic. I feel better.”

"I know." Alfred pushed sweaty hair off his feverish face and gave him a tap on the chin. "Get some sleep kiddo, you know I'll keep you safe."

#the ask box || probis pateo #my writing || cacoethes scribendi #hws canada #hws america

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aihoshiino · 5 months ago

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chapter 152 thoughts

Chapters Since The 143 Kiss Happened And Went Entirely Unacknowledged And Unaddressed Count: 9

Aqua Hoshigan Status: White??!???!?!?

WELL DAMN. OKAY. LET'S FUCKING GO I GUESS.

With the End Of The Play… miniarc? interlude? wrapping up, Oshi no Ko officially confirms we're in endgame territory and slams down on the gas to barrel full speed towards its conclusion. This chapter was definitely a mixed bag, but I didn't dislike it and I SURE CAN'T SAY IT WAS BORING AT LEAST………….. It reframes a lot of things that lead up to it - I suppose that makes 'recontextualization' the keywork for this chapter, then.

The return to the volume 1 interviews in this chapter were kind of a surprise LOL. Given that the anime trimmed all but Ai's, I kind of took that as an implicit confirmaton that they weren't really that important so it's a bit of a jumpscare to see Gotanda (& Aqua's) revisited here. That said, revisiting them here is more about clueing the viewer that we're caught up chronologically with those flashforwards and thus that everything from this point on is officially uncharted territory, so I still do think cutting them from episode 1 was the right call to make. I don't think it causes any plotholes or incongruities since these interviews are really kind of incidental in the grand scheme of things… also let's be real I don't think any of us are expecting the anime to get that far into the story, even if I would give my left leg to see the anime team work their magic on chapter 137………………………….

That said, it's pretty fucking rich for Gotanda to try and talk big about the movie not being fictional when we heard from the horse's mouth that Abiko and Yoriko just fucking made up the dynamics of one of the most central and pivotal relationships in it out of thin air lol. Not only that, but like…

15 Year Lie is a movie with a pretty clear narrative. This by itself is natrual and expected. Narrative is the shape in which the human brain most readily accepts information but to create a narrative about something is to fictionalise it. Even when it's a narrative about real events - because narratives are, themselves, fiction. They have cleanly defined beginnings and ends, arcs and the promise of neatly packaged payoff and catharsis that is impossible to achieve in reality. To create a narrative about Ai's life in any form, let alone in a movie made for mass general audience consumption, unavoidably necessitates reducing her to a fictional character to observe rather than a fellow human to understand.

Which is… you know, horrifying! Fucked up and ghoulish! It's exploition of Ai in death just as she was exploited in life and I really wish the Movie Arc had actually focused on that uncomfortable undercurrent. This was, after all, supposed to be a movie about Ai.

BUT ANYWAY, CAST SCREENING OF THE MOVIE… we get some detail about reactions to the content but even as characters are literally talking about the movie and Ruby's extremely important role in it they just conveniently avoid discussing the content of it. But surely with all those important scenes that were set up and with the public release of the movie and Kamiki's side of the story to tell, we'll get some more details, right??? [audible copium huff]

Akane's tearful reaction is interesting, though. They're specifically singled out as not being to do with the content of the movie and her expression is a bit ambiguous - you could read is as resigned or relieved just as easily. I think she has clearly recognized something about Aqua's revenge in the movie which prompts that reaction but who even knows what's going on with akane at this point lol. sure not akasaka.

The girls all ragging on Ruby's acting was also kind of… like, yeah, remember when Ruby not being a good enough actress to carry a whole movie was kind of a huge issue??? The fact that this is resolved by everyone saying "yeah it was bad but idk aqua made it good somehow" was kind of silly lol.

I do really like Melt stepping in to stick up for Ruby, though - because yeah, of course hearing that would probably bring up some bad memories for Melt…! I also like that he doesn't try to shallowly flatter her or butter her up - he's frank about where she still needs to improve but hones in on the part that really matters. He really is a good kid.

That said, him sticking up for Ruby and her glomming onto him and calling him 'Master' (ししょ/師匠, shishou, as in the master of a craft addressed by their disciple, in Japanese) does kind of highlight that the MLRB mentorship that got set up in 144… went nowhere??? We can assume by Ruby's response to him here that it happened offscreen but it really does feel like a total waste of time to have spent what was effectively an entire chapter on setting up a new character dynamic that just didn't happen. Like… really, in hindsight, what was even the point of that chapter other than to establish that Melt… was also here??? I guess we still have the final arc for that to resolve into something but.

It just kind of sucks because I think a MLRB friendship could be really fun! I think they have the potential for a good dynamic and there's some really interesting parallels between them both that are ripe for farming. At this point, it's probably way too late for us to expect anything to come of it, so I can only daydream……..

tho it is really funny to me that at this point, since 143, ruby has had more meaningful on panel interactions with melt than she has aqua. What Did They Mean By This.

Gotanda and Kaburagi's talk that followed also left me with pretty mixed feelings. As expansion on/closure for Kaburagi (and Gotanda to an extent), I think this was fine… there's just a few little details that bother me, I guess.

On the one hand, I really like Gotanda's frank admission that there's no way to know whether the movie really captured the 'real' Ai. This is another thing I've talked about over and over during the Movie Arc but nobody making this movie is really in a position to be making that call - the only person who really could is Ai and… well, she's not here anymore to advocate for herself. Seeing Gotanda acknowledge that does scratch some of what was left unitched by this thread but…

Eugh. I don't know. Something about this movie, which is about Ai's life, Ai's tragedy, Ai's final push to be shown to the world as she was and to potentially be accepted being made to be about Gotanda's regrets just feels kind of icky to me. Maybe it just feels especially bad because it feels like 15 Year Lie has become more about every other character involved than her. I'm sure people are sick of me complaining about it, but it really does feel like Ai as a figure of emotional importance to this story is getting increasingly downplayed and dismissed and…… just feels bad, I guess!!!!

Kaburagi's side of this conversation is a lot more engaging, at least. This does tragically represent the end of my Secret Villain Kaburagi Theory and I feel decidedly mixed on the story choosing to frame him so sympathetically… but on the other hand, I do like how this implication of guilt and sense of responsibility reframes basically all his prior actions in the manga. It seems to confirm that he clocked Aqua (and thus by extension, Ruby) as being Ai's child right from the start and explains why he was willing to go so far in pushing their careers along at little benefit to himself - it was out of atonement to Ai.

that panel of young kaburagi and baby ai having lunch together. fuck, man. the fact that she took the burger out of the wrapper like she does in viewpoint b………….. babygirl i loev u so muuuuchchchchchchhchchchchsjsjsskasklsndkdkd

and……………………….. now it's time for aqua's interview. Jesus Christ.

I like the recontextualization of Aqua's interview here and the way we see This Mysterious Interviewer gradually pick apart his responses. I especially got SUCH a thrill out of his 'I won't love anyone' schtick being called out as the bullshit it is - one of my first really meaty OnK metas was of Aqua's interview segment specifically and I zeroed in on this sentiment specifically as being a lie that Aqua was trying to project and seeing the text back that up makes me a very happy Claire

But more importantly though… what Aqua has to say after that makes me particularly excited.

First of all, let's get it out of the way: KAMIKI JUMPSCARE!!!!!!!!! It seems implicit that he was the one doing all the interviews which is very fucking funny considering his presence in the movie itself, but I'm not entirely sure it changes or adds much other than giving Aqua the opportunity to death note speech his ass.

What is fascinating to me about this talk is what it implies about Aqua. Every time we've seen his revenge play come up before this, the very strong implication is that Aqua intends to die at the end of it, either by Kamiki's hand or his own. But here, face to face with the man he's dedicated his entire life to ruining, Aqua doesn't just state his intent to get revenge but his intention to reclaim his future by doing so. We've gotten some pushes towards this since 150 but this is the clearest declaration of his intent to finally seize hold of this second chance and fucking live it that we've gotten out of Aqua… honestly, ever!

And accordingly, we see Aqua return to his white hoshigans here. I don't necessarily know if I want to call this slam dunk confirmed but this WAS really exciting to see given how it falls in line with my interpretation of "white hoshigan = hope = future" and "black hoshigan = despair = futurelessness". Everybody has been spending the last few chapters basically begging Aqua not to throw away his future and hurt the people he loves just to chase his revenge and it does seem like they're starting to get through to him.

Is this development kind of rushed? Honestly, yeah! I would've loved to see this explored more from properly inside Aqua's POV and it feels especially abrupt given how hard he got ignored all during the post-123 section of the Movie Arc. But at this point, it just feels so fucking good to see Aqua say out loud that he wants to have a future, that he wants to finally move forward and live that I can't bring myself to care. I just want him to finally be happy!!!

that said how fucking funny is it that the closest thing aqua has gotten to therapy in years is from his estranged father, a serial killer

break next week…!

#oshi no ko #oshi no posting #onk spoilers #chapter reviews

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sapphire-writes · 2 years ago

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Sapphire Dreams ~ Aemond x Reader

request: reader is having interesting dreams🥵, she about to go crazy because she never gets to see the man she’s dreaming of, so the night she about to see him all she sees is blue, sapphire blue. Then she gets to meet Aemond and it happens exactly as one of her dreams. Magic ! lol word count: 0.8k warnings: nsfw, fingering, spicy themes note: i loved this request omg hope you enjoy it! 💎 you can read more of my work here 💚

You have been having interesting dreams as of late, to say the very least.

Dreams that leave you gasping when you wake, as though you had been drowning in a sapphire sea.

Dreams that leave your body flushed, and your thighs wet with arousal.

Always the same.

Always a mysterious man, cornering you in an empty corridor. You never see his face, the torches do not allow it. The only memory you have of him is his hands, the feeling of his hair between your fingers, and the impression of his lips on your neck.

“There you are,” he murmurs, “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Who are you?” you always whisper as he turns you around, pressing your back into him with one large hand splayed across your stomach.

“A monster,” he always growls in your ear, before biting down.

You feel a delicious sense of terror, as though you are being thrown from a horse. The feeling should cause panic, but it only heightens your arousal.

“What is your name?” you beg, as his hand finds its way under your skirts.

You can feel his fingers pressing into you, stretching you open. It feels so real, you can feel them curling into you, pressing into a sweet spot in a way your own fingers never seem to. You can feel his thumb circling that special button at the apex of your thighs, causing your legs to tremble. You gasp, throwing your head back onto his shoulder.

“The Stranger,” he whispers.

That’s what it feels like. A sweet, torturous, death.

You never find your release, always waking right before he can claim that from you.

You try to relieve yourself of such shameful thoughts as you ready yourself for the night’s feast. You are to be presented at court that evening, along with several other eligible young maidens.

The dress your lady’s maid lays out for you is a startling blue, deep as the sapphire isle of Tarth. You stroke the smooth fabric, feeling your stomach curl with nerves.

The sky matches your dress as you enter the wheelhouse on its way to the Red Keep. You consider this a good omen from the gods, but a shiver rolls down your spine.

You peer out of the window of the wheelhouse as you make it through the front gates, and hear dragonsong from overhead. You have never seen a dragon before, and watch as a blue she-dragon flies overhead, toward the dragon pit. Her scales shimmer like sapphires in the fading light of the evening sun.

It is Dreamfyre then, the dragon of Princess Helaena.

Curious, another sign.

It seems to be a theme of the night, as the feast begins. Ladies in blue. Gowns of sapphire, cerulean, azure, and cobalt fill the great hall creating waves. Your head is spinning.

Everything is blue.

Your head spins, and you need some air.

You race from the great hall, desperate for some reprieve. You find yourself in a dark corridor, eyes squinting as the flames for the torches have turned to embers.

“Seven hells,” you whisper, turning to head back the way you came.

A figure blocks your path.

“There you are,” he murmurs, “I’ve been looking for you.”

The man walks forward. You cannot see his face, cannot make out his features though something on his face catches the light briefly.

He comes before you, placing his hands on your waist.

“Who are you?” you whisper as he turns you around, pressing your back into him with one large hand splayed across your stomach.

“A monster,” he always growls in your ear, before biting down.

Your heart beats frantically. It is him.

“What is your name?” you beg, as his hand begins to find its way under your skirts.

You are trembling against him, as his lips find your neck. Your lashes flutter at his touch. It feels so real, are you dreaming now? Did you fall somewhere and hit your head?

You can feel his fingers pressing into you, stretching you open. They press into your sweet spot, you can hear how wet you are from fear, from desire. You gasp, throwing your head back into his shoulder.

“The Stranger,” he whispers.

He curls his fingers within you, again and again, stroking your inner walls and kissing your neck. You press into him, arching your back and feeling his hardness pressing into your bottom.

“Please,” you whimper, “please.”

He hums against your neck, you can feel his lips curling into a smile.

“I’ve dreamt of this,” he murmurs.

Your eyes snap open, and your cunt clenches around his fingers as he continues his strokes.

“My sapphire lady,” he whispers, “I knew it was you, as soon as you left the hall.”

You’re so close, he is playing your body like an instrument.

“I always wake before the end,” he says, nipping your neck, “not this time, cum my lady. Your prince demands it.”

Your prince.

You suddenly realize who holds you, who has been haunting your dreams, as your orgasm crashes over you.

You should have known.

Sapphire blue.

Aemond Targaryen unsheathes his fingers from your warm heat, turning you to face him. Your eyes have adjusted to the darkness and you can just make out his sharp features before he crashes his lips to yours.

“You’re mine now,” he growls, kissing you once more.

HOTD taglist: @bluevxnus, @thattargboy, @xlilacfrostx, @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @marvelescvpe, @geminithrone, @deltamoon666, @i-killed-ramsey, @tempt-ress, @eddiemadmunson, @zillahvathek, @hangmanscoming, @jojoesq, @f4ll-for-you, @rwdkarla, @nik2blog, @cc13723things, @filipiniamultifandom, @watercolorskyy

(bold means I could not tag)

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lizard-shifter-noms · 7 months ago

Text

Still Subject to Change Chapter 9 (NEW)

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Hello everyone! i decided to repost arc 1 of SSTC

(the chapters were way too long and had a bunch of typos but hopefully this will make reading easier)

this Story contains Vore, Dont like dont read.

if there are still any grammatical errors i'm sorry.

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Seeing the forest come closer I was actually relieved to finally be out of here and looked over my shoulder to see that the tower really was built to keep big Monsters in there with its thick walls and embedded spikes.

I shuddered and hoped I would never see this thing again, so turning back I instead focused on the treeline and not stepping on anyone.

Yep, still weird to think about that I could end someone's life with a single misstep and I tried not to think about it, and instead just drag my feet over the ground so that if someone were to be there they'd get toppled over and not squished under me.

Reaching the Forest's edge I assumed that they would let us go now, but it seemed we were still too close to their Kingdom so we had to walk into the forest even further.

I didn't dare speak out of fear that they would shoot me, but Robin seemed to have no such concerns.

“When are we there? I want to talk to Donovan, also where's Arthur?”

I tensed at his last Question accidentally squishing Arthur a tiny bit making him move more than before and I hurried to hold my breath and cut off his air supply, however that worked.

He stopped moving after a few seconds but this sure had been a scare, if he had woken up and someone noticed it we would have been fucked.

I still felt incredibly guilty but it couldn't be helped, I just hoped he'd understand.

I almost missed the guy's answer as I was busy holding my breath and my attention was focused more… inwards.

“Oh you can talk to your big friend later ALLLLLL you want as for this Arthur guy? He's been taken care of don't worry”

I did Not like the condescending tone the Guard had used but I couldn't really do anything about it which frustrated me even more.

At least Rikaad was able to step between them and shot a death glare at the offending guard who actually backed up a bit.

We continued walking in silence, safe for the Guards communicating amongst themselves.

I could feel Arthur lying limply against my insides, only moving occasionally and sending a thrill up my nervous system whenever he made a bigger movement.

I tried to Ignore it but since he was literally inside me that was near impossible, and I couldn't help but worry about the feeling.

What if that's what the Bracelet made me do? What if one day it urged me to eat someone for real?

Shoving these thoughts down I instead focused on the road so I wouldn't trip, and I could see that the tower was a bit further away now.

I really hoped they would just let us be already but it seemed that we were still too close to the Kingdom for their comfort.

At this point we had already passed the spot where I got shot at and were led even deeper into the woods towards the mountain.

Coming to a bigger clearing they ushered Robin and Rikaad to be in the center and threw both of them a bag, probably their own stuff judging by the clunking sound of metal.

The Guards still surrounded me, but I wanted them to go away already so I could talk to Robin and try to find a spot where I could let Arthur out so Rikaad wouldn't see it.

Arthur himself was still peacefully asleep, courtesy of a low oxygen environment and had thankfully not woken up during all of this.

But I did dread the part where he would, I didn't know how he would react and it scared me.

I also had to fight to keep my hand from settling over the warm lump in my core so as to not give away anything to the Guards.

The Guards walked around me to stand at the treeline of the small clearing, I didn't move as I really didn't want to step on someone.

Suddenly a Horse came up with an ironclad knight on its back.

The rider removed the helmet and i could see that it was the king, nobody else i knew had such a monobrow.

Did he follow us? I immediately became worried, Would he tell the others that I ate Arthur? I hoped not.

The guards all stood in a line next to him with their crossbows loaded.

I had a bad feeling about this and I was proven right as the king suddenly had a wicked grin on his face.

“SOLDIER! AIM! SHOOT THE BEAST! I WILL NOT TOLERATE SUCH A MONSTER NEAR MY KINGDOM!”

Aa all the Guards suddenly aimed their crossbows at me.

I didn't even wait to see what they would do and Instead turned to run in the opposite direction, snatching up Robin and Rikaad as I did so and getting the hell away from there as fast as I could.

Ignoring Rikaads surprised shout i just ran towards the mountains to bring as much distance between us and Maringand as possible making sure to not drop either of them.

Feeling Arthur start to move again I held my breath once more hoping that he'd fall back asleep even with all the movement.

It took longer than before and sprinting while not breathing made my lungs burn but after about three minutes he was still again.

I really hoped none of the others had noticed him squirming but glancing down while running showed that Rikaad was focused on the way we came, probably looking for any pursuers and Robin was just Clinging to my fingers.

I ran until I could no more, occasionally holding my breath to prevent Arthur from waking up.

I didn't really know how long I had been running but as I looked back I could not see the tower anymore and it was well after midday.

I sank to my knees gently letting Robin and Rikaad to the ground while I panted, my lungs burned from running and holding my breath and I did my best to calm down as fast as possible.

I did not want Arthur to wake up now from all this, not now at least.

I was still trying to figure out how to handle this and having him wake up now would be extremely awkward.

Rikaad seemed to stand Guard and looked in the direction we came from.

“We should continue after you rested, then we can figure out what happened to Arthur and how to get him back”

Ah fuck i really needed to make a plan.

Looking at Robin instead to make sure he was alright too and I didn't grab him too harshly I saw him staring at me, or more specifically my middle.

While I sat there I had unconsciously put a hand over my Pouch where Arthur lay and I yanked it back, looking at Robin and putting a finger over my lips to tell him to never say a word about it.

He nodded but still tilted his head at me with curious look in his eyes, i would tell him later what had happened, when I got the chance to do that without Rikaad listening in.

Being hunched over like this made the weight in my core just a lot more prominent as Arthur was lying on what was previously the front wall.

Getting up again and holding my breath anew even if I still felt like I needed more time to rest.

And feeling Arthur slide around in my pouch when I was hunched over was a bit weird.

I wanted to go as far away as possible as fast as possible from that place so I forced myself to continue on.

“Alright let's go i want to never go near that hellhole again we can worry about Arthur when i'm sure i wont get shot again”

I slowly stood up and went to walk even more towards the mountain.

I was glad that riding on horseback through the woods was not a good idea, otherwise we'd have to worry about that too right now.

Holding my breath again I went in the direction of the mountains in a straight line, not like there were any roads here anyway.

Robin scrambled after me and Rikaad started to walk faster too to keep up.

“It is going to be dark soon we should look for a campsite if possible”

At Rikaads words i looked around, it was indeed getting darker, How long had i been running?

No matter right now I needed to get Arthur out without the others or at least Rikaad noticing and I still didn't have a plan on how to do that.

So we ended up setting up a temporary camp near a river, still far enough to not be able to see said river but close enough to get water, and I felt extremely awkward the entire time.

I had their Friend within me for fucks sake! And the only one that didn't know was Rikaad at this point.

It didn't help that I had to fight with myself to keep my hands from straying to settle onto my middle.

If Rikaad did notice my odd behavior he didn't say anything about it luckily.

I kept frequently holding my breath to make sure Artur did not wake up and hoped to God that this wouldn't give him brain damage from the low oxygen he had been exposed to for some time now.

The Dark came as soon as we managed to light a fire, The crackling sounds provided a soothing white noise and I finally got an idea as I saw in the glinting light how dirty my legs had become.

And not just my legs, everything about me was dusty and on some spots downright caked in dried or fresh mud.

So I stood up and on the other two confused looks told them what I was going to do.

“I'm going to wash myself in the river, stay here i don't want any of you seeing me without clothing”

Robin looked a bit confused at first but then nodded, motioning a thumbs up, he'd been weirdly quiet since the capture.

I would talk to him later to make sure he was alright but for now I had other things to deal with.

Rikaad just made a dismissive hand motion and instead focused on the fire so I left to go a good bit downstream, away from where they could hear or see me.

I went a good bit further than that to make sure that even if it got loud they wouldn't notice, which took about five minutes to walk.

I had stopped holding my breath while walking and I could feel Arthur start to move again as I took deep breaths to supply him with fresh air.

The movements were confused at first, then a curious hand prodded my insides before he went still again, not unconscious, more like a stiff weight that held itself and it seemed like he was terrified of moving.

I even heard him say.

“Oh fuck”

I finally allowed myself to put a hand on my abdomen and poked at him, receiving a surprised noise in response.

“Arthur? Are you okay?”

He shifted confusedly for a second before answering.

“What? You ate me, why would you ask that?”

He seemed still a bit groggy so I would do one thing after the other for now.

“I didn't really eat you, but can you tell me if you're okay?”

I was a bit worried over the fact that I had essentially kept him in a low air environment and hoped I didn't damage his brain or something.

“What do you mean by that? And uh… well i Feel fine? wait-”

He started shifting a lot and I had to bite back a pleased hum at the feeling of having my insides rubbed, I didn't want to scare him after all.

“What the FUCK! Donovan, what the hell is going on?!”

He suddenly was a lot more energetic, seemingly having figured out that he'd been in there for some time now and was still okay.

So best to finally explain this…chaos.

“First off you're fine! And you will stay fine! You're not in my stomach okay?”

“Where the hell am I then? You fucking ate me!”

Well there was the anger, but now I knew that beneath that anger was fear, so I would try my best to reassure him.

“You are in my pouch not my stomach, basically i have some of my organs doubled but not all of them work so you're fine and nothing will happen to you in there”

He seemed to freeze at my words, likely trying to comprehend what I just told him.

Then I felt an indignant kick against my insides.

“WHY THE FUCK DIDN’T YOU TELL ME THIS SOONER!”

Now he really was angry instead of afraid and I sighed.

“I literally couldn't! Not with that Monobrow guy listening in! He would have killed us both!

Besides You said it yourself that you couldn't act to save your life! I'm sorry that I had to do this but it's better than death isn't it?”

He seemed to calm down at my words, probably realizing that I was right.

“So wait, are we still in the tower or why are you suddenly talking to me? And how did you manage to keep me asleep during all of this???”

At least those two questions were easy to answer but I hoped he wouldn't get angry again at hearing that I had deprived him of air.

“We are not in the tower anymore, i got us as far away as possible when we got out, as for keeping you asleep well uh- I just held my breath so you'd get less air?”

He didn't kick or punch me, instead he just flopped backwards against the walls of my pouch.

“You know what, okay why not? Are at least Robin and Rikaad okay? Wait, do they know I'm in here?”

I decided to try and answer the questions in the order I heard them.

“The others are okay, they are at out camp a bit away and no the don't know where you are, at least Rikaad doesn't, and i'd appreciate it if you'd never tell them about this, i'm not keen on getting stabbed by Rikaad to be honest”

He shifted again a bit and I had to suppress another delighted hum.

“So if we are away from the tower can you let me out? No offense but i don't like this and i never want to repeat it”

Walking a bit into the stream after chucking my shoes onto a boulder to keep them dry while he talked I could understand that he didn't want to do this ever again, so as long as he promised to not tell anyone I'd let him out as soon as possible.

“Of course I'll let you out just give me a sec, also can you promise me to never tell Rikaad about this? I'll help you come up with a believable cover story if you want”

Coming up with something would probably be difficult as he admitted to being a bad actor, so something simple would have to do.

Feeling him move again to sit up I walked even deeper into the widest part of the river, but the water still didn't go over my entire legs so I just stood there in the calves deep water listening for his answer.

“Yeah sure, i even swear on God to not tell Rikaad unless you tell me to, now get me out of here”

“Alright… try to go limp… i'm going to get you out now”

I felt a squirm of confirmation as I pressed in with my hand, and tensed up as I forced my body to throw up the form in my pouch.

Feeling something travel the wrong way up your esophagus wasn't by any means pleasant but I was used to it by now from the years of hiding valuables in there.

It wasn't long until I felt the cursing form of Arthur reenter my mouth and I plucked him out with two fingers, dangling him over the river in the pale moonlight.

“Fucking hell! How long was I in there? And set me down already! I hate this!”

I couldn't really set him down right now as I stood in the middle of the river and he would get swept away by the cool water that flowed around my legs so I instead cupped him in my hands.

He was a lot less slimy than I thought he'd be but still needed a wash to get rid of the bit of slime that did cling to him.

“One second, unless you want me to dump you in the river, also how are you? Are you okay?”

I walked back towards the riverbank so I could set him down.

“I've seen better days to be honest, and i'm sorry for what my uncle did to you guys”

Setting him down slowly onto the rocky dirt covered shore I went to wring out the hem of my shirt that had gotten wet when I bent over to get Arthur out before what he said registered in my brain.

“That Was Your Uncle??? What? Wait a sec, if that guy is your uncle then-”

He interrupted me before I could say another word.

“Yes my dad was the King, but frankly i didn't really know him aside from when i had to stand at his side during some stupid events, and no i'm not sad that he's dead i never cared about being some stupid royalty, at least i wasn't inbred like some of my other relatives”

He seemed to shudder at the last bit and not entirely from the cold.

“I thought Winton had told you who i am, ah fuck, how about you don't tell anyone about my royalty status and i keep quiet about the pouch thing okay?”

This did seem like a good deal but one thing confused me.

“Deal! Though, Who the fuck is Winton? Is that the monobrow guy? Don't tell me That ugly fuck is your uncle”

He flopped over into the mud of the riverbank groaning.

“Yes he is, i like to pretend that he's not though, i hate him”

That was completely understandable, I had only been around that guy for about a day and I already despised him as much as physically possible, and Arthur had to live with that for who knew how long.

Though now we needed to come up with a reason as to why Arthur wasn't kept captive anymore.

“So, any idea for a cover story? You know Maringand better than me”

He flopped onto his back in the dirt sighing.

“I'll just tell them i escaped through the sewers, as disgusting as it is it's believable enough and they probably won't ask for details”

That sounded good enough, I knew I wouldn't ask how someone crawled through a sewer, or at least not expect them to answer it.

“So can we go back now? I want to actually see Robin and Rikaad again”

That would be nice, but suddenly coming back with Arthur might be a bit suspicious, there was no way he would have kept up with us, especially since he had way shorter legs than I did and I had done an Adrenaline fueled sprint away from Maringand.

“Not a good idea, you suddenly turning up this fast is going to raise questions so maybe not today, ehh Night i mean”

It would be even better if he backtracked a bit so when Rikaad would usher us back to get him we'd ‘meet’ him on the way.

“Maybe even backtrack a bit? Rikaad is going to go back to get you anyway so if you go back a bit we meet you there and it's more believable”

He slowly sat up, now having mud stuck to the back of his shirt and put a hand over his face.

“Yeah that is a plan, not one im looking forward to but im not going to admit that i was eaten and didn't even do anything to stop you, that's just awkward and kinda embarrassing”

At least he shared my view on that point, so I went to sit next to him in the mud.

I would wash that anyway so I wasn't concerned with getting it even dirtier.

“Well you better get moving then, you have to go downstream and a bit to the right”

I pointed to where he had to go and he slowly stood up and started walking, even if his legs seemed to be moving a bit weirdly, they probably fell asleep in the time he didn't use them.

I was right in my guess as Arthur actually did comment on it.

“Dude my legs are wonky, how long was I in there? no wait don't answer I don't wanna know that, see you and the others tomorrow?”

The last part went an octave higher and I could clearly see that he was worried but did not want to show it.

Instead he started to walk through the woods and I hoped that I hadn't just made a mistake, After all, the woods were still dangerous and now he was unarmed.

I REALLY hoped I hadn't made an irreversible error but he was already out of sight so I went back to striding into the river, planning to finally get all the dirt out of my shirt and pants.

The cool water felt Pleasant against my sore legs and while I just let the stream wash away the mud on my pants I took my shirt off and swirled it in the water a few times to get everything out.

Dragging the now heavier shirt out of the water i wrung it out a few times before realizing that if i put it on again i'd likely get a cold or something, So the shirt had to stay off until it was dried.

Ah Fuck.

That ment i had to go back to the camp shirtless and try to dry it against the comparatively small fire we had.

I hoped no one would take offense to the fact that my top half was naked, but knowing Robin he'd more likely ask about my scars than complain about me missing my shirt.

Standing on the riverbank I wrung out my pants as best as I could while wearing them and slipped my shoes back on as I started to walk back, trying all the while to wring out my shirt as best as I could so it would dry faster.

I returned to a happily flickering fire and saw Rikaad inspecting Robin's face, apparently checking for bruises.

I realized with a pang that I might be too big to see small injuries, at least Rikaad was here to assess them.

Upon hearing me come back two heads simultaneously looked at me but Rikaad went back to checking Robin over who grinned at me.

Something was wrong with his teeth but I couldn't figure out what, I was too far away and probably too big too.

I sat next to the fire and put my shirt as close as I dared, I didn't want it catching on fire after all, then gave a worried look over to Robin.

“Are you alright? You've been weirdly quiet since we left Maringand”

He motioned for me to get closer and I bent down to be more at eye level for him.

He showed off his teeth and I finally saw what was wrong, The tooth behind his left canine had a small piece missing making his canine appear far more pronounced, like a fang.

No wonder he's been so quiet that must have been painful.

“How did that happen? Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

He shook his head, making his messy ginger hair bounce around his skull.

“I'm fine, one of the Maringand Guards told me to shut up and hit my teeth, but that aside where did your shirt go??”

I was glad he seemed to be okay and gestured vaguely to the shirt lying next to the fire.

“I'm letting it dry before putting it back on, not keen on catching a cold out here”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Rikaad nodding.

“A good idea, though we should rest soon i will take first watch”

He did have a point in that, we really should sleep soon and i could put my shirt back on tomorrow as embarrassing as them seeing my scars was i wouldn't risk a sickness right now.

“Is that where your kidney is missing?”

I flinched a bit at the question, it seemed Robin had come closer as I stared into the Flames of the campfire and was looking at the pale line of scar tissue at my side.

“Yeah it is, i'm glad i punched that guy when i did or had have killed me for sure”

He seemed to stare at it a bit longer before his gaze became that glazed over look again for half a minute.

He snapped out of it and shook his head.

“You have any more scars? You don't have to tell me though!”

Well I did have a few more but most of them were from mundane stuff like falling off a tree or climbing into small spaces, though there was a long thin line across my back doing shoulder to shoulder that I received from a blade.

PREVIOUS / NEXT / OVERSIGHT

#sstc #lizards writing #vore story #giant/tiny #soft vore #extreme cuddling #g/t story #g/t vore #v0re #sfw vore #Barmea #Maringand #magic #nsx vore

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missbabyjay · 1 year ago

Text

New Era - Alex Turner x Reader

You and Al have an intimate moment shaving his head for the TBHC tour 🧡

Fluff!

a/n: OKAY SO!

First of all, I haven't written fanfic since March, and this is the first piece I've written about Alex. I am so nervous to post this lol, but I low-key thinks its really cute. Secondly, it doesn’t necessarily follow the true story about him shaving his head because I'm pretty sure he did it on tour? Not too sure. This is also a shoutout to all the pretty bitches who love TBHC (& the car). They’re such beautiful albums and I can’t understand suddenly ditching a band because they’re changing and evolving! To each their own but you can’t deny they are masterpieces ✨

But enjoy this made up moment I constructed in my delusional head trying to fall asleep a few nights ago :) p.s i am NOT a great writer lol but I do have pieces for Pedro Pascal on my blog as well.

Warnings (?): mid writing 😭😂, tons of fluff, idk if you'd consider it angst but reader is a tad grumpy, insecure AND confident Al?, tbhc era, buzz cut Al!, alcohol, oh & some cheesy British slang cuz why tf not

You exhausted a big sigh as you pulled up to your house. The rain was incessant; refusing to give up as it continued pelting down, creating a symphony of noise on your vehicle. “Fuckin’ rain,” you mumbled under your breath as you prepared for the journey to your front door. You mentally crossed your fingers in anticipation, hoping Alex noticed the text you had sent earlier about leaving the door unlocked.

“3…2…1,” you counted to yourself as you quickly pushed the driver's door open and made a dash towards the front door of yours and Alex's house. To your benefit, Alex must have seen the text as the large door swung open with one turn of the cold, metal knob.

You let out another sigh of relief as you sat on the cushiony soft ottoman in the front entry of the house. You pondered for a minute as you let the warm air wash over your body, relieving you from the cold and damp world outside. Today wasn’t your day, to say the least, you were knackered. Work was a mess; your boss continually nagged at you over the smallest things and nearly every one of your coworkers were in a sour mood. You faulted the weather outside as no one was ever in a good mood with weather like this, but your fuse was short and you were thankful to be back in the comfort of your own home.

After debriefing the day with your own thoughts, you removed your shoes and made your way into the house. The cool tile of the kitchen floor eased your sore feet as you reached for a bottle of your favourite wine and poured yourself a generous glass. Your brows furrowed as you took your first sip; typically you’d have heard from Alex at this point, but you were yet to hear his silky soft voice greeting you.

Alex’s mind raced back and forth as he sat in front of the washroom mirror. His fingers fondled the set of hair clippers before placing them on the counter. He knew what he was about to do would entail more attention and more criticism, but he hoped it would help the fans realise that the monkeys were entering a new era and that to be quite frank, they would continue to change and evolve no matter the criticism.

He checked the time on his phone, the illuminating screen read 5:42. “Fuck,” Alex cursed to himself. He knew you’d be arriving from work shortly and he was uncertain of your reaction to his somewhat spontaneous decision. Of course your opinion mattered to him, but Alex knew deep down that this change was necessary, at least to himself. “Alright mate, just go for it,” he muttered to himself before reaching for the clippers.

Unbeknownst to Alex, you had been home for the last few minutes, going about your own business. With one last deep breath Alex pressed the power button and the hair clippers came alive. “Al?” Your soft voice met Alex’s eardrums. He quickly brought the clippers closer to his hair as both his heart rate and breathing increased in speed. “In here, darlin’.”

You ventured towards the shared bedroom, noticing a sliver of warm light peeking through the ensuite bathroom door as you entered the contrastingly dark room. “Al?” you called out softly, not wanting to disturb his privacy. “In here, darlin’,” his rich voice echoed back to you from the washroom. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself - you had been craving Alex’s comforting presence all day. He was always the cure to a shite day.

But when you reached the door and gently pushed it open you were met with an unexpected sight. Alex was propped up in front of the large mirror on a barstool from your kitchen, hair clippers in hand, seconds from shaving away his long brown locks. “Bloody hell Alex! Have you gone crazy? What are you doing?” Your reaction came out much harsher than intended but you most definitely weren’t expecting to come home to Alex attempting to shave his hair off.

Alex’s hand came to a still, nearly inches before meeting his hair. His big brown eyes stared at you through the reflection of the mirror and for a few moments the only sound that filled the room was the low buzz of the hair clippers. “I-,” Alex paused for a second, looking down at the hair clippers as his hand rested them on the counter. He internally cursed himself, wishing he went about this at an earlier time. “With all the stress over the new album I just thought, ‘why not have a new look too?’, everyones already chatterin’ about…” he trails off with a shrug, a light pink tint washing over his cheeks.

You huffed, setting down your glass of wine before your arms came to wrap around Alex. Your head found solace in the crook of his neck and your eyes met his gaze in the mirror. You gave him a small smile, “Oh Al, I know this has been an odd time for you, but are you sure you want to do this right before the tour starts?” You placed a gentle kiss on the ridge of his jaw, the light stubble tickling your chapped lips. He returned a sheepish smile, “I do, love.”

You removed yourself from his shoulder, “Alright then mister, hand the clippers over.” A childish grin replaced the shy smirk on his face as he realised the intentions of your words. He fixed his posture and straightened out his back, proceeding to run his hands through his precious locks one more memorable time. “Have at it, darlin’.”

You tousled Alex’s hair a few times before beginning to drag the clippers through his strands. You watched his face soften as his eyes gently closed and he began to embrace the affectionate moment. “I love you,” he said, just above a whisper as his locks began to fall over his shoulders onto the floor. “I love you too Al, I’m sorry for how I reacted… today was just one of those days,” you responded with an equally quiet tone and yet another exhausted sigh. You questioned how many times you could sigh in just one day, making you let out a quiet laugh to yourself. “Is that so?” Alex chuckled as he slowly opened his eyes and met your mirroring stare with a cheeky smile.

The two of you continued to sit in an intimate silence as you finished the job, Alex’s hand reached backwards to keep a compassionate hold on your leg during the close proximity. You clicked the power button on the clippers and set them down on the counter, delicately placing your hands on Alex’s shoulders to give him a supportive squeeze as he revelled in the moment. His one hand raised, brushing over the short and stubbled hair that now resided on his head.

“It’s quite alright, isn’t it?” his baritone voice ringed through the small space as a smile grew on his face. “Ya know what?” you started before pausing as you squeezed yourself in between Al and the vanity, bringing both your hands to cup his face as you stood in front of him. “It sure is, sweetheart,” your voice squeaked as you quickly closed the space between the two of you with a passionate kiss, enveloping him in a tight and loving embrace.

His soft lips were like medicine, as if he could kiss away all the stress and pain. “I am so proud of you. You always do what you feel is best no matter the criticism and that’s really respectable, Al.” His smile beamed, the confidence now radiating off of him the same way the sun radiates a warm comforting glow on a summer day. “I have a good feelin’ about this tour, love. Once the fans hear this album live I think they will truly fall in love with it, just as much as I’ve fallen in love with you,” he says as he lovingly looks at you. You giggled, “Absolutely, Al. You cheeky bugger.”

#Alex Turner #alex turner fanfic #alex turner fanfiction #alex turner x you #alex turner x reader #alex turner fluff #tbhc era #tbhc Alex turner #arctic monkeys fanfic #arctic monkeys fanfiction #buzzcut Alex turner #tranquility base hotel and casino

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