#just barely got this one out in time! day 2 and 3 are already marked as being from 3 & 4 days ago... whoops | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

charmedimsure · 1 month ago

Note

Hello! Can I order a Dae Ho one-shot? about the reader who comes to the game pregnant and meets Dae Ho there and they have some kind of connection and he tells her that when they get out of there he would like to be with her and the baby.

thank you and happy new year <3

*slams bell* ORDER UP! (im sorry that was so cringey)

THE THREE OF US || kang dae-ho

pairing: Kang Dae-ho x f!reader

summary: Trying to make it out of the games with both you and your baby's lives, you meet a man who is determined to help.

word count: 6.3k (i did not expect it to be this long thats what she said)

warnings: pregnancy, guns, death, blood, squid game stuff

A/N: i love jun-hee, but the reader replaces her in this fic. reader has no connection to myung-gi (333). if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3

Part 2: After the Games

The second game is about to start, and time is running out for you to find a team. You've approached a few groups, but have been turned away by all of them. Turns out most groups don't want women on their team.

Out of the corner of your eye you spot the man who had won these games before, along with the man who beat up those other players the day before. Figuring you might as well take a shot, you approach them.

Just as you get to them, a handsome man comes running over, pulling a player along behind him. "Sir! I got someone! He'll definitely risk his life to win."

The man he brought salutes the others. "Victory at all costs!"

The shorter man in the group, player 390, smiles and salutes back. "Hey, were you in the Marines?"

"Class 946, sir!"

Player 390 laughs. "Boy, with three ex-Marines, we'll be invincible." He turns to players 001 and 456. "What do you think? I like him."

Great, you think to yourself. Now they get to pick between an ex-Marine and a woman who can barely stand for more than 20 minutes at a time. Still though, this is a good team, and you'll be damned if you don't at least try.

"Excuse me," you say, getting the group's attention. "Please let me join your team."

Player 390 speaks up. "Sorry, we've already got five people."

Fuck it. Time to pull out the big guns.

"Please help me," you plead, leaning back a bit and putting your hand up to your swollen belly. "I'm pregnant."

All five men grow silent as they look down to your stomach.

"Time for team selection is up."

You can feel the stares of your new team on you as the second game is announced. You just look forward, trying to listen to voice.

"The game you will be playing is Six-Legged Pentathlon. You will start with your legs tied together. Each player will take turns playing a mini-game at every ten-meter mark, and if you win, the team can move on to the next one. Here are the mini games. Number one, Ddakji. Number two, Flying Stone. Number three, Gong-gi. Number four, Spinning Top. Number five, Jegi. Your goal is to win all the mini-games and cross the finish line in five minutes. Please decide players for each mini-game."

Player 390 turns to his friend. "It's good that we got a woman." He turns to you. "You can play Gong-gi, right?"

You give him a sorry look as you shake your head.

His smile falters. "Don't girls play Gong-gi anymore?"

You look down at the sand. "I've played it, but I was never good at it."

You can see the disappointment on his face as he nods.

Player 388 takes a deep breath as he turns toward 390. "Actually, I can play Gong-gi."

390 gives him a confused look. "You? And ex-Marine?"

You give 390 a weird look. Is it really that hard to believe that a military man has played a kid's game before?

388 gets embarrassed. "I grew up with four older sisters. I used to play it with them from time to time."

You smile, thinking it's sweet that he used to play games with his sisters.

390 claps him on the back. "That's right. There's nothing a Marine can't do."

Player 456 leans forward to look at all of you. "Everyone else, what game are you confident playing?"

You take a deep breath. Jegi was the game you were best at growing up, but you don't think you'll be able to play it in your condition. You lean forward as well. "I can play Ddakji. At the subway station I flipped the guy's on my first try."

390 nods. "Okay. Miss 222, you can play Ddakji. I'll play Flying Stone. I was a pitcher for my baseball team. I'm good at throwing."

As 456 and 001 decide who will play Jegi and who will play Spinning Top, 388 turns to you.

"Did you really beat him on the first try? It took me at least eight."

You breathe out a laugh and give him a small smile. "Yeah. I probably could have paid off my debt if he had let us keep playing." Your smile falters as you rest your hand on your swollen stomach. "It would have been safer for the baby."

388 frowns sympathetically and scoots a bit towards you. "We will get out of here. And after that, we will go home. You and your baby will be safe."

Although you don't completely believe him, you still give him a smile and thank him for his kind words.

You feel movement in your stomach and let out a small yelp at the unexpected feeling, looking down towards your hand.

"Are you alright? What happened?" 388 asks, concern clear on his face.

With a smile, you lift your head to look at him and the others who have directed their attention to you. "I felt the baby kick."

Player 388 breaks out into a smile as he looks to your belly, seemingly fascinated by what is happening inside of you.

Player 001 lets out a loud laugh. "The baby wants to play Jegi."

You let out a chuckle as the men laugh. You made a good choice asking these players for help.

"All right guys, bring your hands together," 390 says, sticking his hand out in front of him. "All together now."

You need to scoot over a bit, but you put your hand on the pile on top of 388's, who gives you a shy smile.

"On three, we go, 'Victory at all costs.' One, two, three..."

"Victory at all costs!"

The walls open and forklifts are brought in holding boxes with pink bows on top. You watch as the bodies of both teams are separated from each other and placed into each box. One team had made it past the fourth mini-game, while the other had only just finished the second. Both teams were executed.

The bodies are eventually cleared out, but the blood remains on the track. The second team lines up and you recognize the sweet old lady who had given you her egg this morning, as well as her son. Shit, you really hope they make it.

The gun fires and they're off. The first girl, player 095, looks so nervous I'm worried she won't be able to throw the Ddakji. Her first three attempts fail, and she looks as though she won't be able to continue. Player 120 whispers something to her and she nods. She picks up the Ddakji, turns in over in her hand, and smacks it to the floor. Success.

The group celebrates as they move on, and you make a mental note of that little trick for when it's your turn.

Next is player 007, the son. He throws the stone and misses. Instead of panicking like the past groups, they quickly grab the stone and move backwards to the line, saving lots of time. As 007 is preparing to throw the stone again, his mother whispers something to him. A look of anger washes over his face.

"That asshole ruined my fucking life!"

A perfect hit. The entire crowd cheers as they advance to the next mini-game. You smile to yourself. They can do this.

Next is the mother playing Gong-gi. She drops her first two tries. You're guessing it must be at least a few decades since she last played.

"Old hag! What are you doi-"

Player 120 puts her hand over player 044's mouth to shut her up.

You watch as 007 speaks to his mother. With a new look of determination in her eyes, she blasts through Gong-gi until she needs to make the final catch. You and player 388 sit on your heels to get a better look. Her son speaks to her again, and face turns to one of rage.

"Rotten bitch!"

All five pieces end up in her hand.

"She did it!" Player 390 says, getting to his feet, 388 following after him. You try to get up but fall back as you lose your balance. Player 388 notices and holds your arms to help you up, keeping a hand on your back to keep you steady as you stand to watch the next game.

044 fumbles the top as she's wrapping it, but quickly retrieves it and tries again. She fumbles a few more times before stopping. Her team freaks out as she stands there mumbling to herself.

A gasp rings out through the crowd as 120 slaps 044 twice, picking up the fallen top and pointing it threateningly at 044's eye.

"Oh shit," you say under your breath.

Player 044 wipes away the blood streaming from her nose and tries again the wrap the string around the top. She gets it on her first throw and the crowd screams in joy as they move to the next one. Everyone is standing now to watch, chanting along to each step.

Player 120 is handed the Jegi and requests that everyone turns around. Not wanting to mess them up, everyone turns without hesitation. The room is silent besides the sound of the Jegi hitting 120's shoes.

Once. Twice. Three times. Four times. Five times.

It's done! They did it!

The rooms bursts into screams as the team crosses the finish line at the last second. You turn and hug 388 in pure joy as he jumps up and down. He quickly pulls away so he doesn't do anything to harm the baby, but keeps his arm around you as he celebrates with 390.

The teams keep going, with everyone celebrating the wins and wincing at the gunfire until it is finally your turn.

As you walk to the starting position, a hand gently grabs your wrist and you turn to see player 388. "Make sure to be careful. Take it easy and don't strain yourself."

You nod with a small smile and thank him, taking your spot in the outer ring of the small track. You take deep breaths as the harnesses are secured around your ankles.

"It's a little sad that we have no audience, isn't it?" 390 says, worry in his voice. He nudges 388. "Hey, are you scared?"

"No sir!" 388 yells, making you jump a bit as you were not expecting it. "It's quiet and easier to focus without anyone watching."

390 looks towards the other team. "Hey guys! We'll see you again at the finish line! Victory at all costs!"

The other team yells back their thanks and support before the pistol is fired and you're off.

When you approach the first mini-game, you take the blue tile and turn it over in your hand to match 095's. Throwing it hard at the floor, you yell in delight as the red tile flips over.

You move on to the next game, holding your stomach as you walk.

As 390 takes the stone, 388 yells out "Let's get this done the first time! I believe in you!"

"When I played baseball, my pitches might have been slow, but I had excellent ball control." You watch as the stones collide and yell out in victory as you move to the next one.

388 takes the Gong-gi pieces and you all crouch down.

390 faces him. "Dae-ho, stay calm. Even if you mess up..."

Player 388, or Dae-ho, puts his finger over his mouth to shush him before facing the board, rolling his wrist a few times and dropping the pieces. As quickly as he can, Dae-ho flawlessly gets through the game and catches all five pieces. You and your team members look at each other in awe of what you just watched. It seems that even Dae-ho can't believe he did it.

He lets out a scream as the guard confirms that he passed.

"That was amazing!" Player 390 yells. "Dae-ho, my boy!"

As you move to the fourth mini game, Player 390 looks down at you. "You're expecting, so be careful."

You nod but try to keep your pace, leaning on the small green table once you get to where you need to be.

As player 001 wraps the string around the top, Dae-ho bounces excitedly. "We might get through everything on the first attempt!"

Player 001 throws the top and it falls lazily to the floor as you all frown.

"It's okay, we have enough time," 456 says. "Let's go pick it up. Ready, go."

You all move forward together to grab the top. "No fun passing everything without a hitch," 390 says.

"That's right," 388 confirms. "You can't grow without failure, right?"

You guess he's right, but it would've been nice to pass everything easily. At least you still have three minutes left.

001 grabs the top and you move back to your spots. On his next throw you watch helplessly as the top flies behind your group. You would have laughed in any other situation.

Player 001 apologizes and you move back to grab the top, with 001 taking his sweet time to pick it up. To save time, he tries wrapping it as you walk forward again, but he breaks out of the arm link in frustration. This time he throws it as soon as it is wrapped. It doesn't spin, but at least it lands directly in front of him so you don't have to move again.

Player 456 picks up the top as 001 sighs in frustration. "What the hell is wrong with me?" He screams and you gasp when he starts slapping himself and calling himself an idiot.

456 takes his arms to stop him. "Try to remember the times when you had fun playing this."

001 nods and takes the top and string again. You take the time to look at the clock and feel a wave of worry wash over you when you see that you have less than a minute left. This time, 001 throws the top with his left hand and it spins perfectly on its axle.

You yell in joy as you quickly links arms again and move to the last game. Player 390 checks on you again as you move, and you just wave him off. The stress can't be good for the baby, but it's definitely not as bad as a bullet.

456 grabs the jegi and moves the pink soldier out of the way. He throws it up.

One hit. Two hits. Three hits. Four hits...

You watch in horror as the jegi flies in front of 456. Quickly, 001 kicks his foot out, making you all almost fall as the jegi lands on top of 456's left foot.

"Pass."

You all yell out victoriously and quickly move, crossing the finish line with a second to spare.

As you're all hugging each other, you flinch at the sounds of gunshots coming from the other side of the room. The other team didn't make it.

The main room is oddly quiet as you walk in. As happy as everyone was to see people pass while watching the games, they don't seem to be very happy about it now. Player 390 next to you waves at someone, and you look in the direction to see the woman and her son.

"That sweet old lady," he says with a smile. "I miss my mom."

You smile at the lady and bow your head to her as she gives you a big smile and two thumbs up.

As you sit down to rest and wait for the pink soldiers, 001 speaks up. "I'm sorry about earlier, everyone."

"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have made the last kick," 456 says and you nod.

001 looks at you. "Player 222, are you feeling alright?"

You nod. "Yes. Thank you all for letting me be on your team."

Dae-ho smiles shyly and nods.

"She smashed that ddakji and flipped it on her first try, that was impressive," 390 says, making you smile at the praise. "She did great, even while carrying a baby. We were lucky she joined our team."

Dae-ho nods. "What about your Flying Stone play? You hit it with one shot! With an underhand pitch at that! Bam!" You let out a small laugh as he reenacts 390's throw. "You were like Kim Byung-hyun."

"And you?" 390 says. "Was Gong-gi the only game you ever played?" He quickly moves his hand around to imitate Dae-ho. "I could barely see your hand. It was like a martial arts movie."

Dae-ho laughs. "I'm the only son for two generations. My mom only let me play at home with my sisters."

"And yet they let their precious son join the Marines?" 390 questions.

Dae-ho hesitates. "My father's idea, he wanted me to be more of a man. He fought in the Vietnam War, you see."

"He sounds like a great man," 390 says and Dae-ho nods. "Was he a Marine, too?"

You can see the discomfort on Dae-ho's face and he quickly excuses himself from answering the question, instead standing up to face everyone. "Listen. Perhaps we should learn each other's names. I still don't know your names, gentlemen." He smiles a bit more when he looks to you. "Or your's, Miss. I'll start. I'm Kang Dae-ho. 'Dae' means 'big', 'ho' means 'tiger'."

"'Big tiger.' Cool name," 390 says. "My name is Park Jung-bae. 'Righteous' and 'twice'. My parents wanted me to be twice as righteous."

You go next, stating your name for the group. "I don't know what it means, though."

001 says your name, getting your attention. "When you get out of here, go see a doctor right away. You've been under a lot of stress. You need to get yourself checked out."

You nod. "Okay."

"I'm Oh Young-il," 001 says. He points out how it sounds like his number and the group laughs at the coincidence. Young-il turns to 456. "Oh, Gi-hun, what's your last name?"

"My name is Seong Gi-hun," Gi-hun says.

"'Seong' literally means 'last name'," Young-il laughs aloud by himself.

A loud buzz is heard and the guards enter the room. After revealing the results of the game and announcing the next vote, your team turns to each other.

You look down at the red X on your track suit, and look up to see the blue 'O' on Dae-ho's. He sees your gaze and frowns down at his patch.

"I'm telling you, we'll get out this time," he says to the team, though he is mainly looking at you. He looks down at his patch again and curses under his breath. "A Marine should think strategically and know when to retreat." He puts a hand on Jung-bae's shoulder. "Isn't that right, brother?"

"Yeah, you're right," Jung-bae says weakly. "Marines aren't invincible. We should get out." Despite saying this, the look on his face and the nervousness in his tone contradict his words.

"We have to end the games here," Gi-hun says. He turns to look at you. "I will help you guys when we get out. Please trust me and support this vote."

You smile and nod in thanks.

"Guys, all huddle up again," Dae-ho smiles as he sticks out his hand.

"Victory at all costs."

You frown as the buzzer goes off one last time. There had been some... complications during the voting. This lead to the final vote being 116 for X and 139 for O. Standing next to Dae-ho, you don't miss the look of betrayal on his face as he looks over to Jung-bae with the blue patch on his chest.

Dae-ho lets out a loud sigh as you eat your bread. "Brother! Brother Jung-bae!"

You can see Jung-bae tense up from his spot behind the beds.

With a sigh, Dae-ho stands up and approaches the man. "Hey, just come back here."

"No, I'm good here," you hear Jung-bae answer. You roll your eyes.

"Oh, come on." Dae-ho grabs Jung-bae and drags him to face the group.

He stops and stares at you all before speaking. "I'm sorry. I borrowed some emergency cash, and the creditors are harassing my ex-wife and kid. If I play one more game, I think I'll be able to settle my debt."

"Jung-bae," Young-il addresses the man sadly. "You of all people shouldn't have done it. It's not twice as righteous." He sighs before continuing. "But, looking at the results, even if you had voted against, we would still have been outvoted."

Jung-bae jumps at this. "Right? It's not entirely my fault."

"Alright," Dae-ho steps up. "To be honest, I understand why you did it. The money isn't enough for me either, so when I went up to vote, I did think about playing one more game."

Jung-bae hugs the man. "You did?"

Dae-ho pushes him away. "I said I get it."

The shorter man turns back to the group. "Thank you for understanding. But I voted in favor partly because I feel confident. We did so well as a team, didn't we? If we stick together one more time, I'm sure we'll be fine." He turns to you. "I'll make sure we survive the next game-"

"'The next game'?" Gi-hun cuts him off. "In the next game, we might have to kill each other."

There is silence before Young-il speaks up. "Gi-hun, that's a bit much. There's nothing we can do now, so let's try to stay positive. We should eat, pull ourselves together, and try our best again." He picks up his milk and hands it to you. "Here, you can have mine too. Hang in there until the next game."

You shake your head. "No, that's okay."

"Take it. I don't drink plain milk."

You thank him as you take the milk.

Jung-bae takes the bread out of his pocket. "Have my bread, too. I don't deserve to eat."

You smile as you take it. You have been feeling hungry and one piece of bread would definitely not be enough for you, so you're grateful for the men around you.

"I'll take your milk then," Dae-ho says to Jung-bae.

Before you can stop yourself, a loud laugh escapes from your mouth. The others smile before laughing along as well. You look over to Dae-ho to see a blush covering his face as he smiles.

"Pass it to me."

The guys hand each other mattresses as they move them to under the beds. You had been put in charge of collecting blankets and pillows so you wouldn't strain yourself.

"Is this really necessary?" Jung-bae asks. "I don't like sleeping under there."

"Once the lights go out, somebody might attack us," Gi-hun says as he pushes another mattress under a bed frame.

"What?" Dae-ho asks. "Who?"

"The prize money still goes up if we kill each other. It's part of the game they designed."

"Gi-hun, I think you're overreacting here," Young-il says. "Even if that were true, people wouldn't do that."

Gi-hun turns to face him. "In the previous games, dozens of people killed each other at night. Right here. You have no idea how people can change in this place."

Young-il apologizes and you hand the blankets in your arms to Jung-bae.

"We need to take turns keeping watch after lights-out," Gi-hun says. "I'll take the first, you should decide the order for the rest."

The order decided was that Jung-bae would take over after Gi-hun, then Dae-ho, then Young-il would be last. You tried to volunteer to keep watch but they immediately shot you down, saying you needed the rest more than them.

After a trip to the bathroom with players 149 and 120, whose names you still did not know, you come back to find Dae-ho keeping watch. You try to quickly wipe the tear stains from your cheeks as you walk back to the makeshift shelter. You give a quick nod to Dae-ho before trying to move past him, but he calls out your name, making you stop and turn to look at him.

He looks up at you with concern. "Are you okay?"

You put on a smile and nod. "Yes, I'm fine." As you try to walk away you feel his hand gently grab your wrist to stop you.

"No you're not," he says. You sigh, upset that you've been caught. He moves to the side to give you space and you sit next to him, figuring you're not gonna get out of this. "What happened? Was it the baby?"

You shake your head, feeling tears start to well up again. "It's everything." You put your head in your hands. "I never should have played Ddakji with that guy, I never should have called the number, I should have just stayed at home and prepared for the baby."

Dae-ho gently rubs your back as you cry into your sleeves. Even though you really only just met, he feels connected to you. Maybe it's just because you survived the second game together, but he cares for you and doesn't want anything bad to happen to you. He was stunned when you had walked up to the group before the game and asked to join, immediately regretting picking anyone besides the beautiful stranger that was standing in front of him.

"What about your husband?" Dae-ho asks. "Does he know that you're here?"

You shake your head. "I don't have a husband. I don't even have a boyfriend. It's just me and the baby." You turn to look at him and although he's too kind to ask you how you got knocked up, you can see the question all over his face. "My ex-boyfriend is the reason I got into so much debt. He made a lot of bad investments and when he ran out of his own money, he started using mine. When I told him I was pregnant, he freaked out and left. Didn't even say anything, his stuff was just all gone one day."

Dae-ho feels himself getting angry at this. If he found out a man had done this with one of his sisters, he would do something to him that would probably land him in prison. It takes two people to make a baby. Just because the mother is the one that carries it doesn't mean that the father isn't responsible for the child.

"He's a fucking coward," Dae-ho says, making you snort a small laugh. "And he's an idiot to leave you."

"It's for the best, though," you say. "He wasn't a good boyfriend, I knew that even while we were dating. But he was my first love, and we all do stupid things the first time we're in love." Dae-ho nods, watching as you bring your hand to rest on your stomach. "I only wish that my child would have a father in their life."

"They will have an amazing mother, though," he says, making you smile.

"I hope so," you rub your swollen belly. "Hey, Dae-ho, can I ask you something?"

Dae-ho nods, looking at you with intrigue.

"Earlier you told Jung-bae that you had thought about voting to stay. Why didn't you?" You ask.

The man takes a deep breath. "Honestly, I thought of you. You and your baby. When you told us that you're pregnant, it really hit me that I'm not the only person in here, that there are other lives at risk. If you died, it wouldn't just be the end of your life. Your baby doesn't deserve that. You don't deserve that."

You can't help the smile that blooms on your face at his words, as well as the small blush. "Thank you for thinking of me. You're a very sweet person, Kang Dae-ho." You watch as he gives you a shy smile, a light dusting of pink on his face. "What about you? Do you have a girlfriend waiting for you back home?"

He shakes his head. "No, just me." You give him an incredulous look and he chuckles. "Dating wasn't easy while in the Marines, and I guess I just never found anyone that interested me enough after."

You let out a small laugh. "Sounds like you have high standards."

He chuckles. "I'm just waiting to find the one. They say that when you know, you know."

"That's going to be one very lucky girl," you say, watching as the blush on his face deepens. "I hope you find her soon."

"I can't explain why, but I feel like I will." He smiles down at you with a look that makes your heart skip a beat. After a few moments he takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry I've kept you up for so long, you should get some sleep. You'll likely need your energy for tomorrow's game."

You nod, standing up. "You're right, I've been up too long." You start to move towards your mattress, but stop. "It was nice talking to you, Dae-ho."

He smiles at you. "Goodnight."

You smile back. "Goodnight."

For the rest of his watch, Dae-ho sneaks peaks at your sleeping form, a warm feeling running through him when he thinks about your words.

You awake to the feeling of someone shaking you. Groggily opening your eyes, you see Dae-ho leaning over you.

"The next game is starting soon, we need to get up," he says.

You hear the classical music that has played before every game and nod, allowing him to help you get out of bed. "Nothing to start the day off like a sadistic game and fearing for your life, huh?"

Dae-ho lets out a chuckle as you make your way to the doors. He walks behind you on the stairs to make sure you don't fall, and stands right by your side as the curtains are opened to reveal the game room.

"Welcome to your third game. The game you will be playing is Mingle. All players, please step onto the center platform. When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, and you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds."

"Oh, this game?" Jung-bae says. "We used to play something similar on school trips. We formed groups by hugging."

"I played it too," you say. "But we would hold hands instead."

Together you set up a strategy. If the number is five, you'll all go together. If it's more than five, you'll grab however many people we need. If it's smaller than five, you'll break off into groups. When your strategy is done, you put your hands in the center.

"Victory at all costs."

"Let the game begin."

The platform jerks as it starts rotating, and you almost lose your balance, but Dae-ho is there to grab you and steady you on your feet.

"Ten."

Everyone starts looking around like mad as they try to find ten players.

Gi-hun looks to a player behind him. "How many are you?"

"Four," the woman replies. You recognize her as one of the women who came to the bathroom with you last night.

"That makes us nine!" Jung-bae says.

A man from another group comes running over. "Are you five? We need five!"

Before any of you can answer, another player yells back. "We have five people! Come with us!"

The two groups go running off towards a door.

"We have to hurry!" Gi-hun says.

"There's no time, Gi-hun!" Young-il tells him.

"We need one more!" the tall woman yells. She spots someone by herself near the center of the platform and grabs her. "We have ten!"

"Room 44! Green door! Hurry!" Young-il yells, already running off in the direction of the door.

You run as fast as you can towards the door as Young-il holds it open for everyone to get inside. You feel Dae-ho's hand on the small of your back the entire way to the room. Before you get the chance to even think, the clock runs out, and the lock clicks on the door.

Screams and gunshots can be heard from behind the door, the sad fate of those who didn't make it in time.

Dae-ho turns to you, putting his hands on your shoulders. "How are you feeling? Is everything okay?"

"A bit out of breath, but I'm okay," you say, and he nods. Taking the chance to look around the room, you see that the other five is the first group that passed the pentathlon the day before.

"You're alive thanks to me!" Player 044 yells out, making you jump. She looks over everyone before stopping on you and stepping closer, making you take a step back. Dae-ho holds you close to him as the woman looks down at your stomach. She then looks up at Dae-ho and gives him a knowing smirk before leaving to speak to Gi-hun.

You look up at Dae-ho, who is still holding you to his chest. He watches the woman walk away before look down at you, your faces so close that your noses are only a few inches apart.

Once the bodies are removed from the playing area, you're let out of the room and make your way back to the center platform. The next round is four people to a room, and Young-il goes off on his own to find three more as the rest of you run to a room with a purple door.

Once you're let out, Dae-ho and Jung-bae yell for Young-il before a voice calling Gi-hun's name grabs your attention. You look over with relief to see Young-il jogging up to your group.

"I knew you were going to be okay!" Jung-bae smiles as he pulls Young-il in for a hug. "I knew it. You're not just anybody."

"I was worried," Gi-hun says. "I'm glad you made it."

Young-il smiles. "I'm a likable guy, so I'm good at games like this." He turns to you. "Are you feeling alright?"

You nod with a smile. "Yes, I'm alright. I'm glad you're back."

Young-il gives you a smile, but his face turns serious. "Wait a minute," Young-il says, "if the next number is six, we won't need anyone else, will we?"

"Why not?" Dae-ho asks.

After a moment, Jung-bae laughs. "Oh, in her tummy?"

Dae-ho lets out a loud laugh. "Right, that makes six."

You smile as they joke around, looking down to your swollen belly.

The next round is three, so you, Dae-ho, and Jung-bae run to a room with an orange door. With every round, you can feel yourself growing more and more tired, and your feet are begging for relief from so much standing and moving.

Once you get out of the green room with Dae-ho and players 120, 095, 007, and 149 (you make a mental note to ask for their names once you're back in the main room), you feel exhausted. As you step onto the platform, Dae-ho grabs your arm to support you.

"Now, the final round will begin."

The platform begins to rotate and you lean on Dae-ho to keep yourself upright.

"What do you think it'll be this time?" Jung-bae leans forward to ask Gi-hun.

"Two," Young-il answers, getting our attention.

"Why?"

"There are 126 people left, and there are 50 rooms. So there won't be enough rooms for everyone, only 100."

"Are you alright?" Dae-ho asks you, concern on his face.

You shake your head. "I don't think I can run anymore."

The platform stops and the lighting dims.

"Two."

Before you can tell what's happening, you are lifted off the ground. You hold on tightly to Dae-ho as he sprints to the nearest door with you in his arms. Once inside, he places you on the ground and moves toward the door, pushing his weight against it to keep anyone else from getting in and pushing you out.

You keep your gaze on the man. He saved your life. He saved your baby's life. Without hesitation. Hell, he even voted to leave for you yesterday. This man who only came into your life a day ago has shown you more unwavering loyalty than anyone else has before.

Then the realization dawns on you: you don't want to do this without him. You don't want anything to happen to him. You want to protect him, just as he is protecting you. Not just in the games, but always.

The lock on the door clicks into place and screams are heard from the other side of the door. Once the screams finish, Dae-ho kneels beside you.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

You shake your head, still in awe of the man in front of you. You examine his face and a surge of confidence rushes through you.

"Can I do something really stupid?"

Dae-ho gives you a confused look. "What?"

You grab his zip-up and pull him to you, planting your lips against his. You feel him stiffen and worry that you've made a terrible mistake, but before you can pull away, you feel one of his hands slide into your hair as the other moves to cup your cheek.

For a perfect moment, you're not in this crazy place. There's no debt, there's no death, there's no fear. There's just you and Dae-ho.

You pull away first but Dae-ho chases your lips, giving you a peck before resting his forehead against yours as you both try to catch your breath.

"I promise you that I am going to get us out of here," he whispers to you. You feel his hand move down to your stomach. "The three of us. If you'll let me."

You gasp at his words, tears forming in your eyes as you nod. This time, you believe him. Dae-ho pulls you in for another kiss and you smile against his mouth, feeling him smile as well.

The sound of the door unlocking gains your attention and Dae-ho pulls away. Voices can be heard beyond the door.

Dae-ho stands up and holds out his hands for you to take, helping you to your feet. He wipes the stray tears from your cheeks and plants a kiss on your forehead before lacing your fingers together and leading you out of the room.

Dae-ho tags: @whatthefuckeryfuckityfuck

Lmk if you want to be added to the Dae-ho taglist!

#dae ho #squid game x reader #daeho #dae-ho #kang dae ho #dae ho x reader #kang daeho x reader #kang daeho #player 388 #x reader #squid game fanfic #squid game 2 spoilers #squid game 2 #squid game

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7seas-of-ryy · 7 months ago

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I Need You | Part 1

Author’s Note: I want this to be multiple parts because I have a storyline that would feel crammed if I did it in one part! Not sure exactly how long I'll make it! Angst AND fluff!!

Summary: You've been in love with Azriel for as long as you can remember but it seems he always wants what he can't have. You want him to be happy with Elain but what will it cost you?

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Nightmares, let me know if I need to add any others :)

You were running as fast as you could and it wasn't fast enough. The creature was catching up to you and the second it got you, you knew you'd be gone forever. Sweat poured down your body, fear was coursing through you as you heard the monster start to... laugh behind you? It was truly enjoying the chase. Suddenly shadows started to appear, starting at your ankles then wrapping around your body until they were covering you entirely.

Azriel. He was here to save you and the relief you felt was sweet. You knew the shadows would protect you. Until, as quickly as they appeared, they began to fade away. What? No, this can't be happening. You're cover is entirely gone and the creature jumps at you. You struggle against it and scream for the shadowsinger but its no use. It sinks it's teeth right into your neck and right as you're about to die...

You jolt awake. Immediately grabbing for your neck to make sure there are no marks and convince your brain there was no actual monster.

The immediate dread of putting on a smile for the rest of the day hit you. Everyone in the IC had their own problems and nightmares, you didn't need to burden any of them with your own.

So, you got yourself ready for the day, put on a happy face, and headed down for breakfast. Only Cassian, Feyre, and Rhys were down and eating already.

"Good morning sunshine" Cass spoke with a mouth full of food.

You smiled at him and sat down with a cup of coffee, not in the mood to fill your stomach after that horrible dream.

"How did you sleep?" Feyre asked, her kind eyes watching you

"Good" You forced out and Feyre's eyebrows rose at the clipped word. Rhys and Cass were now watching you as well.

"Uh I was thinking of going out today, maybe try out the new bakery that opened up." You said quickly, hoping they wouldn't notice you trying to change the subject.

"Oh! Azriel was just telling us he wanted to try it out! He'll definitely want to go with you!" Feyre spoke

As if speaking his name had summoned him, he walked in with Elain at his side.

"Did I hear my name?" The shadowsinger asked

"Our dear friend here was just telling us she was going to try that new bakery today and we knew you wanted to as well." Cass said while throwing an arm around you with a big smirk

Azriel's eyes lit up ever so slightly. "Ah yes, I did want to try that. I'm afraid I'll be busy for a while. Would you like to go tonight instead?"

You nodded your head with a shy smile, "Yes that would be nice. I'll meet you there"

He tilted his head in acknowledgment at you and went back to his conversation with Elain.

You had been crushing on Azriel for so long, maybe too long. For a while you'd hoped he felt the same, but it seemed his attention was always elsewhere. He's been too busy with Elain all the time so you barely got to hang out with him anymore. To say you were excited to finally get some time with him was an understatement.

You went up to your room, packed your bag for the day and left for the city. Even though you had a rough start, maybe today would be a good day... Maybe.

#azriel #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel angst #inner circle

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missqhughes · 5 months ago

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MORE THAN FRIENDS | L. HUGHES43

-> luke hughes x fem! reader

-> contains: angst (resolved), kissing, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of sex and sexual acts, fluff, use of y/n, lowercase intended

-> IN WHICH: all the alcohol has wore off, and y/n finds herself naked in her best friends bed. things take a turn for the worst when luke starts to hint regret towards what they did the night before; but what does that mean for their friendship?

-> part 2 to get comfortable! i’m sorry i can’t just write pure angst i’ll make myself too sad. but dw it’s gonna be so juicy. also if ur missing someone goooooood fucking luck reading this w dry eyes 🫥alsoloveitasmuchasidothankyouhappyreadingggg!

*fic is not proofread

18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT

the all too well known pounding headache was the first thing y/n woke up to; oh, and also being completely naked in luke’s bed.

her eyes made their best attempt to adjust to the sunlight that poured into his bedroom. she turned over to her side, and there was luke sleeping peacefully, the blanket dangerously low on his waist, revealing hickies littered all over his v-line and stomach.

with a heavy breath, she checks down her own body; chest abused with hickies, trailing all the way down to her inner thighs. a quick look over to her backside reveals a red, unmistakable hand mark on her ass.

there was no denying that she had sex with luke last night.

y/n feels the bed shifting, a groan coming from the boy next to her.

“oh, you’re already up,”

his voice is horse, a combination of his drowsy state and losing it the night before. y/n turns around to face him, lifting up the comforter to cover her chest, any attempt to conceal her bare body to his now sober eyes.

“yeah, i just woke up literally a minute ago,” she says, a small smile to accompany. his eyes scan over her body, taking in all of it, eyes fluttering in an almost of a surprise of what he had done with it.

“do you… do you remember anything of what we did last night?”

y/n started to recount everything of the night before, how she felt with he was thrusting deep into her, his teeth sinking into her skin. how he looked with his head thrown back when she was on her knees in front of him. how he kissed up and down her back, not daring to let go.

“yeah… yeah i do.” she said, mouth twitching into a smile, anything to cure the tension. luke said nothing.

and there it was.

silence.

silen-

“i think you should go.” his words were a lot colder and harsher than he intended, but he sat up, refusing eye contact with her.

“you know to like… shower and eat and whatnot.”

nice save, she thought.

“no yeah, you’re right, i’m gonna change then be out of here,” she said, collecting her scattered clothing all over the floor. y/n changed into her short pink dress from the night before, ready for the walk-to-the-uber of shame that was ready to greet her.

while she changed, luke also got himself into a pair of boxers. y/n glanced over to him for a second, the image of him in his boxers, tired eyes and his body left with evidence of sex on it being burned into her brain.

“i’ll see you later yeah?” y/n said, opening the door and expecting luke’s usual response of “always,”

he purse his lips before responding, “bye.”

his words weren’t cold, or harsh, but disconnected.

disconnected from her.

y/n looked back at him, and he was already facing away. she wanted to say something, but didn’t let herself. instead she turned around and left.

——————————————————————————

it had been days since luke had spoken to y/n.

a million and one thoughts were racing in her head, each causing more anxiety than the last. they would come up at random times, like a jumpscare any time she let her thoughts travel to luke.

cooking dinner,

did he think it was bad?

studying,

did he regret what they did?

laying in bed, at approximately 3:46am,

did she ruin their friendship?

enough was enough. she needed answers, and she needed them now.

she knew he had practice this day, so in about 20 minutes, y/n found herself stomping into the yost ice arena, on the prowl to find luke. practice had just ended, and she shoved past the other guys and ignored the looks of confusion they gave her each other.

she ripped open the locker room door to a surpised luke, jersey off, but still in gear. his mouth opened, but y/n wasn’t going to let him get the opportunity to speak before her.

��where the hell do you get off on not speaking to me? huh? is it because we fucked? is that it?”

y/n pointed her finger at him accusingly, her face contorted into a look of disgust, but also sadness, and confusion. she was on the guard, but deep down scared shitless of what he was going to say.

luke sighed heavily, facing away from her and shuffling with the things in his section, “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

y/n scoffed, “bullshit and you know it. what is it? tell me the truth luke warren. so what, we fucked okay? is that really the only reason you don’t speak to me of all people for days?”

he still had his back away from her, but his with his head dipped down, arms on his side. “it was a mistake. we shouldn’t have done it.”

she felt tears welling up in her eyes, cheeks flushed hot with anger and embarrassment.

“i’m so glad you think that luke,” she paused, making the best effort she could to control the shakyness in her voice, or how her throat burned in an attempt to get the words out. “if this is how you’re going to act after what happened, don’t speak to me now, or ever.”

it stung like hell to say, but she meant it. having enough with the situation, not being able to bear how much it hurt for him to be in her presence, she turned around and walked to the exit.

she didn’t look back. not like last time. but luke did. his body faced her as she slammed the door shut, only catching the last bit of her clothing and hair, her scent lingering where she was standing. his eyes were tinted red from tears, breath caught in his throat from regret with what he said, and even worse, what he didn’t say.

——————————————————————————

weeks had passed since they last spoke.

y/n was a mess. she refused to go out, turning her nose up at even the thought of drinking. her body ached when her mind wandered to luke; what he was doing, how he was doing, if he was thinking of her.

it hurt like hell.

and there she sat, curled up in the shower, recounting the memories her and luke shared. how they were always the first to wish happy birthday to each other. sharing their first middle school class together. sitting by the firepit, talking for hours at the lake house. crying in each others arms when they both got accepted to their shared dream school. graduation. a picture her parents took of them hugging outside their freshman year dorm building. how they held each other when no one else would understand, how they would still laugh their asses off even when no one would understand the joke but them.

oh, how he understood her. how fiercely they cared for one another, how he was always there, how she loved him, how it was always him. if it was one person she could choose, over and over again, it was luke.

but he was gone. just like that.

y/n had been in there for so long her fingers were wrinkled, and the water had turned a numbing coolness. she forced herself to get out, thanking to god that none of her roommates were home, knowing how pissed they’d be about her water usage.

she changed into sweatpants first, then begrudgingly putting on one of luke’s sweatshirts, a dark blue crewneck that read “michigan hockey” across it. y/n knew it would hurt to wear it, but she wanted any bit of luke left she could have.

about 10 minutes had passed, y/n was combing through her slightly damp hair, when she heard a knock at the door.

she went up to answer it, thinking one of her roommates was back and had just forgotten their key.

instead, y/n was met with a clearly unwell luke. his eyes were dark from lack of sleep, lips resting in a frown, all resting on a somber face to top it all off.

she felt like she was hallucinating. that she was in a dream, that her body was going to twitch and bring her back down to earth, back to reality. back to sitting down combing her hair, luke nowhere in sight.

they said nothing but everything at the same time. their expressions exactly matched, but still not quite knowing what the other was thinking.

“luke,” she breathed out, his name in the air barely above a whisper. y/n’s eyes fluttered, the emotions coming in like they never did before.

“can i come in, please?” his voice cracked, his expression pleading her to come in more than his words did.

she nodded, moving out of the way so he could step in. she sat over to walk on the couch, adding a pillow to her lap, hoping luke wasn’t able to see her body shaking and riddled with anxiety at his presence. but also comfort, and hope.

“why are you here luke?” y/n asked, demanding to know why he randomly showed up, after weeks of silence between them.

he ran his hands through his curls, biting his lip harshly before delivering his answer, “i need to be honest, i needed to tell the truth to you.”

“i thought you did that when we talked in the locker room,” she hissed, “all of that sounded pretty truthful to me.”

she didn’t want to rude, but how could he say that after practically punching her in the gut that day?

“no, you don’t understand,” he kneeled down to her level, unable to control the shaky hands that he brought up to hold his head in.

“then help me understand luke,” y/n voice was much softer this time, chest throbbing with pain seeing luke in more distress than she has ever seen him in.

“i was scared,” he said in a short breath, teardrops painting his cheeks, “i was scared after what we did because i thought it meant nothing to you, that we were just drunk. that you would tell me that you regret what we did, but i didn’t. not once.”

her gaze bounced between his hazel eyes, shocked at the news he was telling her. his face didn’t relax once, as he continued his truth, “i’m so in love with you y/n. i’m so scared you don’t feel the same way. i care about you, i need you, i feel so fucking…so fucking lost when you’re not there. nothing has felt the same.”

“i should’ve told you the truth, and i’m sorry.” his voice cracked again, and now luke was in full on sobs.

y/n could say nothing yet, still in shock, now again feeling like she was hallucinating. she opened her arms, and luke sat down on the couch with her and came crashing in.

he buried his face in the crook of her neck, arms tightly wrapped around her, terrified that if he let go she would be gone again. he cried into her, taking in her scent, her warm skin, her gentle touch, all of which he missed dearly.

“i love you, luke. i love you, i should’ve said it sooner,” y/n felt the pain that had accumulated for weeks begin to disappear in minutes with luke, the only ailment to her sickness. he sighed, pressing his forehead to hers with closed eyes.

“we both should’ve said it sooner, i’m so sorry y/n. i cant let you go. not now, not ever,” he held her tighter than ever, shifting his head to plant a soft kiss on her forhead.

she cupped his face in her hands, seeing him look at her with so much love made her stomach flutter.

“you have me luke, always.”

that’s when he kissed her. it was night and day between the first time their lips met. the first was new, lustful, wavering in its stability. this time, it was familiar, warm and feeling like they both could go on like this forever. their lips moved in perfect harmony, y/n crawling atop luke’s lap to bring herself as close to him as she possibly could.

they just barely pulled away, desperately needing to catch their breaths.

“now you’re never getting rid of me lu,” she giggled,

“wouldn’t even dream of it,” luke said, laying her down on the couch in her fit of giggles, peppering sweet kisses all over her face.

——————————————————————————

xoxo, kaia

#luke hughes #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes smut #luke hughes x reader #lh43 #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey #new jersey devils #nj devils #umich hockey #umich boys #luke hughes fanfic #nhl #luke hughes x you

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helenofsparta2 · 7 months ago

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Percy, Nico, and Jason should have fallen into Tartarus together, while Annabeth should have remained with the rest of the Seven in House of Hades. Please hear me out.

For one, this way Tartarus would have been much more intimidating. At least in my opinion, it has pretty much lost this aspect, especially after Sun and Star. Tartarus is the prison of the titans, a place so scary and so dangerous, that only the best of the best can make it through. Homer described it as being as far beneath Hades as heaven is above earth. Overcoming it should be the ultimate challenge.

Yes, Annabeth is smart, incredibly so, but, I feel like, because Rick wanted her to be useful in Tartarus, he used a lot of cheap tricks in her POVs to get her and Percy over obstacles, which seem a bit too simple to really work against beings like Nyx. This took the heaviness away from them being down there and felt at times even anticlimactic. Don’t get me wrong, again, because I know this is a sensitive subject, Annabeth is smart, has a strong resolve and is great at hand to hand combat, but that’s it. And, in my opinion, that should not be enough to overcome Tartarus. If it would have taken a child of each of the big three working together to only barely make it out, it would have definitely reinforced that status, and also the gods’ belief that such children can become too powerful.

Secondly, Percy not letting go of Nico’s hand, would have done wonders for the development of their relationship and for each character’s individual arc.

Imagine, Nico dangling from the edge, instead of Annabeth. Nico, who had only days prior pretended like he didn’t know Percy, who is so full of self-hatred, he thinks the entirety of camp half-blood hates him, who is already weakened by being imprisoned in the jar, and who is scared out of his mind by the idea of being alone in Tartarus again.

Imagine Nico staring up at Percy, clasping his hand, while Percy looks up at Annabeth, the love of his life, whom he had been separated from for months. Imagine Nico being convinced, that Percy is going to let Nico fall down to stay by her side.

But Percy refuses to let go.

He refuses to let go, even after Nico tells him he should do it, and decides instead to fall together with him into the worst place on earth, just so Nico doesn’t have to endure it alone again. It would have further reinforced Percy’s self-inflicted role as Nico’s protector which he already had in the original five books and his fatal flaw of loyalty. To Nico, it would have given him a worse inner conflict about having a crush on him, which could have been revolved while they were travelling together. The confession scene would have been much more impactful and healthier, if it would have come from Nico himself, and if he and Percy would have had a more in depth talk about it.

And if Jason would have flown after them in a moment of desperation, it would have reinforced the sense of loyalty and protectiveness that he had already shown when he had saved Piper at the grand canyon. The scene with Polybotes could have also taken place in Tartarus instead, and him and Percy working together, and putting all of their differences aside would have been a much more interesting dynamic than the stupid, out of character, rivalry bit they’ve got going on in Mark of Athena.

And, to be honest, just having Nico, Percy and Jason go all out, would probably be one of the coolest scenes in the entire Riordan verse.

All the while, Annabeth could have really cemented her role as a leader. I love her character, but to say that she has more leadership capabilities than Percy is laughable to me after reading the original five Percy Jackson books. These books are, after all, about Percy’s hero’s journey from an inexperienced kid to a smart, powerful and wise hero and the leader of camp half blood. Annabeth, in comparison, shows relatively little of that. (Obviously this makes sense, considering that the books are from Percy’s POV and revolve around him, but the complete switch-up to saying that Annabeth is the natural choice as leader of the seven just felt a bit out of the blue to me in Mark of Athena)

Her leading the rest, in a moment of such a tragedy and remaining strong would have really reinforced the strong resolve that she had already shown in holding the sky in titan’s curse and in remaining steadfast despite all the horrible things that happened to her with her father’s rejection and luke’s betrayal. Annabeth’s relationship to Piper, Leo, Hazel and Frank, which is painfully underdeveloped in the books, could have also been given some much needed attention. Like, I can’t remember a single scene where she and Hazel, or she and Leo really talk to one another, which is a shame, because they could have had really interesting dynamics with one another.

It also would have also been a powerful statement about Percy’s and Annabeth’s relationship, if they, while separated, still believed in each other and trusted that the other person would get the job done.

Without powerhouses like Jason and Percy on board of the Argo II, Hazel and Frank could have really shone as individual fighters. Hazel is probably the second, or third most powerful demigod in the entire franchise, but barely gets any attention, and for a guy, who is apparently so powerful his life had to be tied to a stick, Frank seems, outside of one or two scenes, also pretty underwhelming.

Without Jason, Piper’s and Leo’s friendship could have also gotten some more attention, and generally the reunion scene at the end of House of Hades could have been much more impactful with these character dynamics. I mean, Hazel, and Nico being reunited, Jason, leo and Piper, and Percy and Annabeth, and Percy, Hazel and Frank.

One of the biggest problems, I have with Heroes of Olympus is the extreme focus on romantic relationships. Having some couples be separated from each other like this, would have also solved this and given the only couple still together, Frank and Hazel, more room to develop.

#rick riordan #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #annabeth chase #nico di angelo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo hoo #house of hades #pjo #the seven pjo

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ctheathy · 1 year ago

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hi omg would you be able to do a smut nine x reader hcs??? i love how u tend to make the reader dominant, i'd love if in these hcs nine is suchhh a sub but tries to deny it and act dominant when really he so isn't... by smut it can range from heavy making out/suggestive to full on smut idm, whatever u can think of :3 (if ur gonna do full on nsfw can nine eat out the reader pls pls (afab reader)) tysmmm !!!!

Nine NSFW Headcanons

Nine x Reader

Suggestive+NSFW Headcanons

Short Concept

Author's note: pfft- Nine would be making sounds that haven’t even been discovered by science yet

Nine/Reader [Romantic]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

Both reader+character are of legal age or aged-up for obvious reasons in this post!

These are smut headcanons, read at own risk. dom!Reader+sub!Nine • Partly !Female!Reader • 1/2 eating his darling out [Fem!reader] • Breast foreplay • Marking • Biting/nipping • Drooling/Salivating • 2/2 making out session [Gender-neutral!reader] • Gagging • You basically shove your tongue down his throat

- ½ Nine eating you out

I honestly just enjoy the idea that Nine is already quick to get hormonal and in the mood. But he gets in heat especially quick when you get a little too whiny and pouty. I just imagine you whimpering for one single time and his whole body would tense up, pressing his legs together and biting away at him bottom lip to the point it almost splits. Trying to keep himself from getting ...hard from something as simple as a subtle mewl. He is so weak towards you, your emotions and the way that you feel to the point any sense of self control can go out of the window. When you're showing signs of being turned on and when he can quite literally smell your arousal, he's gonna have to fight tooth and nail to not get aroused himself.

This is certainly not something that would have too much of an improbability of happening. As you see, the thing about Nine is that he can already be quite lustful in general due to his bottled up frustrations. Now add on several years of isolation from other creatures and you have a boy who hasn't satisfied his primal urges and inner desires for literal ages. But you can make all his anger, frustration and self-hatred turn into a desperate need and craving for you. You could enjoy taking away any sort of dignity and prideful nature that he has left when the intimacy gets to that point, before giving some of it back through your praise after the ordeal. You'd absolutely know him and his vulnerable spots good enough for you to really set him off, because at the end of the day, you'd always have him begging for more.

You could start off a bit simpler before allowing him to eat you out like that, but still feed into his uncontrollable horniness for you. You can begin with giving Nine the opportunity to touch your chest with his mouth, something despite with his shy embarrassment and hesitance, it being something he just couldn't say no to. You could just sit there and lean back all smugly, while Nine's on his paws and knees infront of you, shivering and head hanging down as he shakily reaches out to one of your breasts, fighting his dripping arousal from staring at your bare and exposed chest alone.

But that's a point of no return ...and to take it to the next level. After that heck of a fest Nine had with drooling all over your boobies, he'd definitely be more open and quick to agree to foreplay that includes him pleasing you in some manner, because ultimately, it really pleases him as well. Not only because your body shape and appearance triggers something inside of him, but because you trust him with your body. And that's how you two got to oral fixation, something Nine would want to think about it for a little while. I mean. HIS mouth?? DOWN there??? Though he would be lying if he wasn't intrigued by the idea. The way you excitedly spoke about it in detail got him excited too... And so, he would cave within under a week at max. Even with his denial, he would absolutely be the most eager in the ENTIRE world for that little taste of your bottom half and he would absolutely make sure that he wouldn’t let you down and leave you unsatisfied under any circumstance

And as soon as he gets one of the tips in his mouth, he could start to feel himself melt. It's just the softest and most squishy flesh he's ever felt in his life. His mouth would start watering the longer your breast is inside of him, and his saliva would slowly begin to seep all over your skin. He'd have his self-control at first, but it wouldn't take long before he'd needily start licking his drool over every inch of your chest as if trying to mark it. He'd be all over you and goes completely feral as soon as he feels your nipple hardening against his moist tongue, as he'd let out a soft moan while feeling that change in texture. Nine's tongue would just swirling around your chest, with his body shivering and trembling with every lick and swirl. He’d glance up at you with those pleading puppy-dog eyes for approval while you just look down at him with such a cheeky grin.

Nine would absolutely be reaching for your fluids like it’s a bottle of fresh water in the middle of the Sahara, he’s never wanted to try anything more in his whole life than he wants to have your sweet nectar right now. He would become so desperate and overstimulated that every second he’s away from it would seem like an eternity... and he'd just want the volcano to erupt in his mouth. If you could easily control yourself and just not let your climax happen. No matter if it's for the sake of teasing him or just having the self-control, this would only drive Nine further into going berserk. His entire existence would become centered around having that release in him one day, tasting you like you're the last meal on Mobius.

Nine would desperately try to keep his calm and pretend that he wouldn’t absolutely go crazy if he actually had a taste. He’d absolutely be in a huge need for more of you and it’d be such a spectacle. His face all red with him basically panting over you. And as soon as he'd even start, Nine wouldn’t be able to focus on any single thing at all. His senses would be completely overwhelmed from everything that’s going on because he’s not used to this kind of stuff at all. Even as he's the one eating you out, his own junk cannot help but keep pulsing as he continues doing it. He'd get a bit impatient and would really want more attention to be brought to his privates, so he might just start touching himself in the duration of the moment... which would definitely make him more vocal, even with his tongue in your folds. You could look down with amusement as he plays with himself, all while his needy moans begin echoing through the entrance of your body.

But Nine always seems to remain on high alert on what's happening to you physically. If you just so happened to let out any grunts or moaning noises, those sounds would go straight to in-between his legs. Any noise that indicates that you're enjoying yourself would definitely keep him going... Even if you're just breathing funnily, he'd get an adrenaline boost that motivates him to become more sensual with the movements of his tongue, getting more desperate to make sure to never fail you in this matter.

Though if you were the type to start squirming all over the place with his mouth still on you. Or if you were to rock your hips back and forth into his tongue, that's when he would just crumble and lose it. You'd just be using his tongue to make yourself feel good, something that turns him on so much more than he'd ever believe it would. His body would be going haywire and he would start gently biting and nipping on your most sensitive nerves to try and get even more of your juices, his tongue would be doing absolutely everything that it possibly could because he’s never been this aroused in his entire life. It would be a scenario that he will absolutely never get over and which he'd be utterly desperate to experience once again.

- Making out sessions

The thing about all of this that's the most exciting is just how absolutely convinced Nine is in his disliking towards being so vulnerable and in a submissive position, and yet he would be so incredibly needy for more. Even if there are moments where he doesn't enjoy being under your command, he would be begging you to continue, begging you to kiss him deeper, to go further than he's ever been, all for you. He must feel intimidated by how submissive he is around you, he must feel intimidated by how vulnerable you makes him feel, but he just can't stop, just can't stop wanting more of you and your sweet tongue.

The kisses that you give Nine is certainly something that manages to keep his on his toes. Though your pecks are as innocent and sloppy as it can be, every very time your mouth is on his, you manage to take control and shatter his mind little by little through the heat of the moment. You're always so teasing... pulling out and taking it back as soon as Nine is shown enjoying himself, keeping him so needy and so utterly horny for more while you feed him these little crumbs. As soon as you're slowly pressing your tongue to the back of his throat, you should purposely roll up your tongue as it's sliding down the back of his mouth. You'd have Nine gag at times with ease while his eyes keep rolling back with just how overstimulated he's getting. And with how teasing and playful you're being through the kiss, there's no way he'd be capable of keeping in his loud, pleading moans. He'd love the sensations so much but would feel so shameful for enjoying it as much as he does.

But at that point he would 100% be loudly begging for you. Crying out for more and more, for you to keep using your tongue on him because his brain is too overwhelmed with the intense pleasure he’s receiving to even really think about anything else other than how amazing it feels. I can picture him crying and sobbing, maybe even begging with you to take him to your room. He would become obsessed with that tongue of yours if you just kept it going for long enough.

He would have no choice in the matter, you would absolutely force him to look you right in the eyes as his vision blurred and his whole body trembled in a way he never thought possible. It would be so intense he'd think he was having a seizure. He would still find a way to keep trying to lock his eyes on yours to contain some sense of dominance, but his head would just be going back and forth, his tongue desperately reaching for yours whenever you pull back, needy to taste you again with his eyes rolling back and trying his absolute hardest to not explode. He couldn’t last much longer at that point, his body eager to betray him and his mouth and tongue would be yours further upon that point.

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤

The poor bastard would look like he’s being electrocuted, the moment he’d try to maintain eye contact he’d just go cross eyed. He’d be completely and utterly broken at this point. As soon as you release him and let go, he’d be a puddle on the ground with his mouth wide open and eyes rolled, just mumbling absolute nonsense while you gaze down at him. A lovestruck, heart-filled look in his eyes as soon as he manages to get back to Earth Mobius. I’d be genuinely surprised if he could even recognize his own name at that point because he’s just been reduced to a drooling puppy who wants to satisfy you.

Something you'll have to make sure he keeps doing with his bratty bottom energy

#sonic x reader #sonic the hedgehog x reader #tails x reader #sonic the hedgehog #miles nine prower #sonic prime nine #tails nine #nine tails #nine the fox #nine x reader #sonic smut #nine sonic prime #nine smut #tails smut #sonic prime nine x reader #sonic prime x reader #nine x reader smut

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ravenslvt · 11 months ago

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why does your best friend’s brother have to be so hot??

☆ suna rintarou x fem!reader (pt.2) ☆

cw: smut! shower sex, pet names, porn with feelings, oral m receiving, rough sex, tension.

pt.1 link pt.3 link pt.4 link

“hellooo? earth to ami?” you wave your hand in front of your friend’s face. she was laser focused on her switch, music blasting in her headphones as she plays the new zelda game. she gives you one glance “yeah?” she says, pausing the game and taking off one headphone.

“i’m gonna shower. where do you keep the towels?”

“hallway closet. if not, ask rintarou” she puts her earphone back in, zoning back into her game. you sigh, walking out of her room and into the hall. she took her video games seriously. you open the cabinet, eyes squinting for a towel to use. oh great, of course the best ones were on the top row. you huff.

“what’cha doin?” a low voice rumbles from behind you. you keep yourself from practically jumping out of your skin. “jesus, rintarou. stop sneaking up on me like that!” you smack his arm playfully. he just smiles. he loved your reactions to him.

he was shirtless, skin glistening in fresh sweat. it was clear he just got done with a workout. your eyes wander down his chest.

“where’s ami?” he asks, his voice a little quieter than usual. your eyes draw back to his, raising your brows. “playing games in her room… why?” you cross your arms over your chest, looking up at the taller man. he just reaches over you to grab a towel you were looking for. he smelled like a mix of his cologne and sweat, it was dizzying.

“i wanted the pink one…” you pout as he hands you the white towel. he shrugs, taking it for himself. “i’ll take this one then.” he grabs you the pink towel you wanted, a smile growing on your face. “and what do you mean by that?” you hug the fluffy towel to your chest, your eyes raking over his handsome features.

it had been three days since you and him had your moment in the kitchen. the marks on both of you almost completley faded by now. the only thing left of that night was the lingering memory of his touch.

he grabs your hand, leading you into the big hallway bathroom, shutting the door and locking it. you carefully place the pink towel down on the spacious counter, but rintarou had other ideas.

“c’mere” he grabs you by the waist, slamming his mouth into yours, leaning you against the sink. the bathroom echoed with your small noises of enjoyment.

“always so loud” he reluctantly pulls away, making you pout. he quickly turns on the shower to cover your noise. in a flash, his mouth is back on yours. your hands go to his bare chest, pressing against his hard muscles. he smiled at this.

the hot steam of the shower slowly filled the room, reminding you of what you even came in here to do. his hands reach for your top, you help him peel it off over your head. your own nervous hands reach at his workout shorts, pushing them down his hips to leave him in his boxers. fuck, he was hard already.

“don’t wanna make a mess again, c’mon.” you clench at the memory of him fucking you on the counter downstairs just a few nights ago. once you’re both stripped completely, he makes sure your towels are close to the shower as he steps into the hot pouring water. your arms cover your chest when you follow him in, a bit self conscious. he holds your elbow to help you get under the sprinkling water.

the water poured over his head, his hair slicked to his face. you admired how good he looked with the droplets falling down his face to his neck to his chest, all the way down to his hard cock and the trimmed brown hair surrounding it.

he held your face in his hands, studying you. it made your face flush.

“you’re so pretty” his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, dragging it down before letting it go.

“you’re prettier” you reply, looking up at him blissfully. he just chuckles.

“not a chance” he leans in for another kiss, this time a little more slow and heartfelt. it made your insides feel hot when his hands move down your body. you gasp softly as his hands palm your ass, bringing you closer to him. he slowly grinded his arousal into your thigh, making you whine. you just wanted him inside already.

he groans when you take his hard cock in your hand, gently rubbing your thumb up and down the slit before stroking him, making him hiss.

“can i? please rin.” you give him pleading eyes, begging to let you suck him off in the shower. he groans.

“i don’t wanna hurt your pretty knees, baby.” his large hands comfortably rub your hips. you just roll your eyes.

“i don’t care. just want it in my mouth.” you give him a peck on his lips, then his neck, then his chest. going all the way down to the base of his cock. you lower yourself on your knees, ignoring the sting of the hard floor against your sensitive skin.

you give his head small kitten licks, focusing on the tip where you know he was most sensitive. you slowly take him into your mouth, bobbing your head back and forth before taking him almost all the way in. he was just so big! your eyes watered when he hit the back of your mouth, using your small hand to wrap around the rest that wouldn’t fit.

“fuckk.” the back of his head hits the shower wall with a small thump, but he was more caught up in the pleasure of your mouth sucking him off. his hands grip your hair, making you moan around him. he curses at the vibration of your throat around him. you notice, softly humming to keep the rumble around him.

he had to hold himself back from grabbing your face and fucking your mouth, not wanting to hurt you. his hips stuttered as your mouth moved up and down his shaft, trying to copy what you've seen in videos.

your free hand reached down, rubbing your clit. you couldn’t help it, the view of him losing himself in your mouth was just too much for you to handle. you’d imagined this so many times, the taste of him. everything. you hollow your cheeks, trying to get him as deep as you could without choking.

“s-stop or i’m g-gonna cum, fuck!” he practically whines, his eyes on you. you were so wet just from his sounds. you just take him deeper, ignoring the burning ache in your jaw. you could taste the saltiness of his precum on your tongue, your fingers moving in rhythm on your clit.

it takes all of his willpower, but he pulls you off of him, groaning at the string of spit and precum dripping from your mouth. you frown. he just runs his hand through your wet hair, panting.

“i wanna finish with you, baby. i’ll let you taste me properly another time, yeah?” you nod as he pulls you back up on your feet, holding you so you don’t fall from your shakey knees.

he kisses you again. god, he could do this forever. his cock was still hard, red and raging from all the stimulation. it practically twitched at the thought of being inside you again when it brushes against your wet thigh.

he grabs your hips, slamming you against the cold shower wall with pure hunger on his mind. the sight of you touching yourself while sucking him off making him almost cum at the thought. he was utterly obsessed with you.

he starts to kiss down your jaw to your neck, starting to suck small marks into your skin.

“no marks!” you scold him. he just pouts, nuzzling his head into your neck. he understood why, but he just wished he could let everyone know you were his, though he’d never admit it.

he hesitently pulls back, hiking your leg to wrap around his hip. fuck. he couldn’t tell if you were more wet from the actual water from the shower or from his touch. it was mostly from him.

he lines himself up with your hole, his tip poking at your entrance. “you ready?” he asks, rubbing his cock between your folds, making you mewl.

“yes, please just put it- fuck!” you practically scream as he sinks himself into your needy pussy, holding back a loud groan himself. you felt even better than before. or maybe he just missed your cunt so much.

“shh. you’re almost louder than the shower…” he rasped out, holding onto your hips for dear life. he started moving, setting a mouth watering pace. the way his tip brushes your g spot with every deep thrust makes your head loll back onto the shower tile.

you couldn’t tell if it was the steam from the hot shower, or the way he was pounding into you that was making you so hazy. probably both.

you couldn’t control the little whimpers and moans coming from your mouth, thankful that the shower was loud enough to cover up your small sounds.

suddenly, there was a knock at the door and a call of your name.

“what is taking you so long?! i need to shower too girl!” ami yells from outside the door. your eyes widen, rintarou immediately covering his own mouth with his hand. he was still balls deep inside of you, trusts slowing down, but not stopping.

“s-sorry! just had to wait for the water to heat up!” you shout back, she just groans.

“whatever, i’ll just use the other shower.” you could hear her voice receding down the hall. you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding in.

“we really need to find better places to fuck.” he comments, his pace quickening again.

“you’re the one who- f-fuck- dragged me in here.” you pant, your tits bouncing at the way he fucked you against the cool tile.

“don’t act like you didn’t want this. pussys practically sucking me in.” he adds.

“fuck” he mumbles, looking down at where you two met. the way you could see the buldge of his cock through your belly everytime he entered you. he placed his hand over it.

he lowers his mouth to your tits, taking one in his mouth, gently biting and sucking, making you moan. he switches between them until he’s satisfied, making you squeeze around him.

“so fucking hot.” he growls, holding onto your leg to bring it higher so he can fuck you even deeper. he was close, his cock pulsing inside of you.

“m’ cuming!” you cried out, holding onto his shoulders for support, nails digging into his skin. you rut your hips to meet his own thrusts in absolute bliss, vision getting blurry with tears as you clench around him, his dick fitting so perfectly inside of you, making you feel so fucking good.

“right there with you, baby. w-where can i-“ he starts, his pace stuttering. his brows were furrowed in concentration.

“inside rinn, please please please!” you begged, locking your leg around his hip to bring him deeper. he moans, his hot seed filling you to the fucking brim. your eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of his cock pumping cum inside of you.

he kisses you through your orgasms, swallowing all your moans along with his own. you pull away, dizzy with lust, panting heavily.

he pulls his cock out of you with a groan, the mixes of your release dripping down and washing away almost instantly in the water.

he kisses your cheek, soothing you. “let’s wash up, pretty girl.”

a/n: i’m so overwhelmed with all the support on this series!! i already have plans for the next part with a little more plot since this one was mostly smut! i do plan on basically every chapter having smut so don't worry y'all <3

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miyacults · 1 year ago

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red, blue and yellow lights.

( ft. satoru gojo. )

It’s hard to tell you a cold, numb no. How does Suguru has it in him to ever deny you anything and make you behave? Satoru doesn’t have that much power over you. Yet. It’s the other way around entirely. Usually, you have Satoru wrapped around your dainty fingers… but this time isn’t usual at all.

> part 2.

wc: 4k (unedited im soreeey)

cw: fem reader (afab). only gojo action here but poly satosugu is super implied. +18, explicit content. smut. minors do not interact. slight age gap, reader is younger than both of them but not much and is not stated at all. daddy kink and daddy dynamic so be careful!!! rough sex/rough satoru. manhandling. slight hints at dacryphilia. slight chocking. marking (one hickey). unprotected sex, p in v sex. little mention of blood. that should be all! enjoy <3

It was raining the first day it happened—sky practically crying at the sight of you three, already sinking down in the problems to come for such a reckless call. Satoru and Suguru are the strongest ones, so they know better and they pride themselves with this fact. They’re smarter than the rest, both devastatingly attractive, even more so than anyone could ever imagine and…simply superior. But the first time they didn’t knew better.

Or they didn’t care to.

The second time shouldn’t have occurred. They should’ve weighed into the idea of not stumbling upon the same rock again—but they did it nonetheless. How couldn’t they? When the rock herself got the touch of angels, the voice of the gods and a face made in heaven. Anyone in their right mind would have done the same.

And so the third and the fourth come, and suddenly they stop counting how many more times have they been opening the gates of hell for you three to freely wander—toying with the risk of losing it all, as sorcerers always do. Stumbling upon a path of no recovery, stranding themselves into a new kind of addiction capable of surpassing that of what power and glory and the god-like status they hold has been pumping their veins for a while now.

Satoru likes to share everything with Suguru. And Suguru likes to share everything with Satoru. Where one goes, the other follows. If Satoru likes it sweet, then Suguru deals with the bitterness, and if Suguru wants it that way, Satoru will pave it himself without a second thought. They’ve been complementing each other for so long, it was only natural for this to happen.

For you, to happen.

But even them have their own ways of becoming addicted to you.

“Please,” you’re saying—sobbing, actually, clenched teeth chirping, violent tremors ripping inside your chest, glimmering tears staining dainty features—and Satoru already feels the weight of guilt swallowing him whole. Tense lips press each other firmly in a straight line, azure eyes shutting together as lithe fingers ghost the overly sensitive skin of his neck. “Please, ‘Toru—”

“No.”

He needs you to shut up, fast.

The name—his name—is hanging dangerously at the tip of your tongue, too close to being spilled out loud, too close to make an even bigger mess than the one he’s already sitting himself on.

“I’ll be good, I promise,” you’re murmuring now against his sealed lips, small cries leaving your mouth, basically straddling his lap as you desperately try to adjust yourself over the growing bulge in his pants—bare, tight little cunt fluttering at the small friction. “I’ll behave, please, just let me ride your cock for a little while, please.”

“Oh, sweets,” Satoru heaves an exasperated sigh through a low, nervous chuckle, hands running through snowy hair crystal clear gaze finally fixing on you. “You’re gonna be the death of me one of these days, you know that? Suguru told me you were being a brat lately and I didn’t listen to him,”

He’s trying to play it off as best he can, sure, but this is adding up to his temper. His cock throbs painfully inside his trousers. He’s not even sure what time it is—maybe three, four in the morning? He doesn’t know. It’s quite hard to keep the track of time when you’re here to distract him of all the things he should be doing instead, when the blue cotton laced panties—the ones he gifted you like two weeks ago—that are supposed to be covering your greedy, insatiable pussy, are now stuffed in the pocket of his expensive, Tom Ford shirt.

It’s nearly impossible to focus when you’re rolling your hips, humping your needy clit and damping his pants with your juices, causing an unbearable explosion in his stomach, cock hard and full of precum you should be licking off of him.

You should be the one cleaning the mess, not him.

Satoru swallows dry, hands falling in a thump over the armchairs of the couch you’re both sitting at. It takes nearly all of his inhuman strength to keep them there, to not let them travel to the hem of your hiked up oversized shirt—Suguru’s shirt, if he recalls correctly—and place them over the heated flesh of your bare ass. It takes everything in him not to squeeze it, knead it, slap it until the skin is red and tender—an unique piece of art only he can make.

“Is that a yes?” You question eagerly, lashes fluttering and eyes sparkling in awe.

“No, baby.”

It’s hard to tell you a cold, numb no. How does ever Suguru has it in him to deny you anything? How does he ever gets you to behave, to make you an obedient good girl? Suguru had you perfectly trained, bunch of rules memorized and practically burned into the tissues of your brain you could recite them in your sleep.

That didn’t stop Satoru from spoiling you rotten, so much it’s a difficult task to fuck the brat out of you every time you spend a few hours alone with him (as Suguru likes to say)—but even if baby gets whatever she asks for during her time with the white-haired man, when she is back with Suguru what Daddy says goes, instantly.

Because you’re just too perfect for them. The apple of their eyes, their pretty baby, perfection in all senses. It makes it easy for you to be awfully good, to sit prettily in Satoru’s lap all the time, spreading kisses all over his face as his enamoured sapphire eyes don’t leave yours—to sleep almost every night attached to Suguru’s chest as if he’s the incarnation of the oxygen you need to breathe.

But even with all of that—Satoru doesn’t have the same power over you, at least not yet. You have Satoru wrapped around your dainty fingers, manicured nails scratching him in what could be a tantrum. He’s incapable of dealing with you all alone, unable to resist your charms, he fails and falls for you hard. You make him sick, you push him off his highs with a mere, chaste kiss, you leave him hopeless to find a cure—pretty, colored sweets popping inside his mouth all tasting of you.

You’re the most powerful drug he has yet to fully taste, a completely new disease that infects his body, mind and soul, so corrosive it sets him on fire and turn his bones into ashes.

“But ‘T—,” you begin, and he has to cut you off immediately, preventing his name to touch your parted lips.

The name is the key—his name in your saccharine sweet tongue is what will lock him away in the gates of the hell you’ve helped create yourself.

“No,” he chastises now rather severely, unnaturally serious for someone like him, hoarse voice sticking at his dry throat. He glances at you firmly as he feels too sober to maintain his posture, hands still refusing to touch you and lips moving away from yours by an inch. “Did you forget how grounded you are, silly baby?” He scoffs, sardonic grin breaking his rather angelic features and turning him into something darker.

You frown.

“I haven’t done anything wrong,”

“You did,”

“I did not”

“Oh, but you are,” Satoru’s tone falls an octave, and suddenly you shiver. You’ve heard about it a couple of times in the past—Suguru has mentioned how, from time to time, those heavenly features of him darken, but to you, that sounds so out of character. ‘Toru is bubbly and jolly and he likes to teased and he even has sweets for dinner with you. To you, that can’t be fully true, right?

His tense muscles relax a little, just a little, as his gaze is dangerously fixed on you. Salty tears wither in your lashes and your cheeks, swollen lips now pouting at him for his harsh accusation and his cold tone. “‘Cause you’ve been naughty, baby, haven’t you?” He insists.

Something definitely shifts, but you notice it. It goes from his flaming eyes to the icy touch, to the calm breathing—previously heavy—, to the devious smirk that tugs at the corner of his lips.

And you think about what it has been.

Usually, Satoru would have fallen by now. Usually, he would have been already caging you between the couch and his body, pounding into you and brushing your cervix with the head of his thick cock, slapping at your ass, pinching your tits and biting your lips until they’re swollen and bruised. Usually, he would have been chanting about how good you feel, how insane you drive him, how weak he is to you.

Usually, by this time, things would’ve been getting to an end. Suguru would have entered the living room of the big house they both own, would have probably lifted you like a ragdoll out of Satoru’s lap and would have scolded you for your little tricks, for seeking such a lewd activity when you’ve been recovering from the flu, for coaxing the Strongest into your desires. Usually, Satoru would have been scolded too by his best friend, and you would have cried his name while being carried into the bed where you most definitely would have got lectured for your little shenanigans.

But this isn’t usual at all.

“N-No,” you murmur, bleary-eyed gaze blinking at Satoru.

“You sure?”

You don’t know. Are you? Are you really sure you haven’t been naughty? You shouldn’t be chided for anything by Satoru, right? Because Suguru’s been in a really good mood lately, he even peppered you with kisses before bed, tugged you in with his favorite blanket before laying by your side, and before that he made you dinner and watched an episode of the show you’re currently catching on with you while eating together.

“Are—,” you begin, and for some reason you stumble on your words, unsure about how to proceed. Being talked to like that by Satoru was so strange, he never chastised, about anything, ever. All of a sudden you don’t feel so bold anymore, you’re not quite certain you’ll get away with yours this time—and suddenly, Satoru’s touch doesn’t feel warm, his arms no longer being your favorite, cozy shelter, transforming into something icy, devious, darker. “A–Are you mad at me, babe?”

“Oh yeah, babe,” He repeats slowly, slender fingers finding your thighs, adjusting his grasp on you for the first time, hands pressing your skin with a little bit more of force than needed. “You call me babe a lot, don’t you, pretty girl?”

You blink at him, head lolling to the side briefly. Little mewl of surprise scaping your lips due to how strong he’s gripping your thighs—pads digging the flesh and all.

“You don’t like it?”

“No, no, I do. Trust me, I do,”

“You want me to call you something else?”

He finds it amusing. The way your features crinkle in confusion, genuinely concerned for what he’s saying. It’s nice, he thinks, since he’s usually the one that’s dotting on you all the time—while you dot on your Daddy all the time.

“What is it that you call Suguru, sweetheart?” He asks almost conversationally, nose caressing your cheek delicately.

“Uh–huh,” you try to shift on his lap, backing a little from him, but Satoru catches you almost instantly—pushing your face against his torso forcefully. “He’s my Daddy,” you end up answering, voice a little muffled by his cashmere shirt.

And he yanks you up without notice, and you whine at the sudden movement.

“Mean” you scoff, the base of your hair being found by his ivory fingers. He catches the strands between them and tugs a little. “So mean!”

“Oh, I’m mean, I’m super mean,” he agrees with a devilish smile spreading from the tip of his lips to his full face. “But you know what you are? An ungrateful brat. And do you know what happens to spoiled, rude and ungrateful brats? They get punished by their daddies,”

You open your mouth to respond, but you don’t get a chance to as he lifts both of you up from the couch and pushes you over the marble counter of the kitchen, whole body against the cold, solid surface. The action alone knocks a little cry from your chest, glistening tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. And he coos at the sight, he mocks you, looks and talks to you in such a patronizing way you’re complaining about how he can’t scold you, that he’s not Suguru.

“You’re not my D—,”

“Go on, finish that sentence, I dare you,” he warns, azure eyes going completely dark as he hovers over you, steady hands ripping you off of Suguru’s shirt. “I’ll make sure you’re not able to sit straight for a month,”

This time, you’re the one that swallows dry.

And, oh, the way your heart pounds violently inside your rip cage. The way your cunt throbs at the mere image of Satoru stripping himself off his clothes and his dreamy blue eyes don’t move an inch from you, the way your tummy flutters and heat descends all over your now naked body in awe—eagerly expecting his touch, awaiting for him, wanting him to take his way and completely obliterate you.

It’s exciting to push the boundaries a little, test the limits of what’s known and jump into the void. It’s dangerous—with Satoru, it’s unbelievably deadly—, but it sends sparks through your veins. It makes your heart roll, makes you want him even more than before.

You sniff, remnants of tears drying your heated cheeks and little squeals still rumbling through your throat.

“Aw, made our sweet princess cry,” Satoru coos at you, freeing his cock out of his trousers—and it’s worth drooling for, in all honesty, with his rosy pink shade and his angry blushed tip, with his irregularly large violet-like veins adorning both sides, and specially with the dim precum that shines beautifully under the kitchen lights.

He gives it a few pumps, and you can’t help but make grabby hands at him—whiny pout morphing your lips as the sobs return, but this time far from covering up the pain, tears now cracking neediness.

“I want you,” you hiccup as he gets closer, grabbing his shoulders as he positions himself over you.

And you feel him, ghosting the tip of his throbbing cock at your little hole, cold digits caressing your breasts—thumbs rolling your nipples and stealing a soft moan from your lips that Satoru catches quickly with his mouth, merging the two of you in a harsh kiss.

“Mhm,” he’s saying and you yelp, teeth biting at your swell and it’s rough, salty, streaks of crimson with a taste of iron coating him. “Now you want me? But I don’t think you deserve it at all,”

“‘Toru—,”

One slap, straight to your thigh.

“That’s not my name, is it?”

You’ve never felt this kind of exciting fire with him before. It had never been so…primal, so needy, so desperate, entire body jolting in anticipation and tummy in knots out of anticipation. It makes your heart vibrate rapidly behind the ribs, mouth practically watering at the sight of him spiraling in such a state because of you.

“You’re not gonna say it?” He insists, tongue catching your nipple. It’s cold and it sends shivers down your spine, provoking delicious shrieks that resonate in his ears and make his blood run faster. He drives the tip of his cock from the entrance, collecting all your juices and directing it to your puffy clit, all to start circling around the bud—one, two, three, four and more times in a nonstop motion.

It’s has you on edge, really. Body trembling and mind going hazy—all the previous lazy dry humping finally getting to your nerves, pussy clenching the air and hot breath colliding viciously against the lanky man.

“Please,” you beg, quivering under his touch. “Please, ‘Toru, I need you,”

“Not my name, sweet thing,” he sighs in a disappointed tone and, for a moment, you think he actually sounds sorry to prolongue this. But you know he isn’t. Not even close, not even a little bit. “Use the right word and maybe I’ll consider letting you cum tonight,”

The word is there, truth be told, dancing curiously at the insides of your mouth, gagging you up and completely searing his whole name.

It’ll just take a little push to make it go out.

“I—I,”

“Say it,” his hand runs to your neck, fingers wrapping around it and mouth printing an obscure mark to your chin—sucking violently at the skin, a combination of gritted teeth and bloodied lips.

He doesn’t stop the movements of his cock on your clit for a second, and you know he’s starting to get too sensitive himself—cracked groans rumbling from his chest, sloppy hips rolling and nearly slipping inside of your cunt once and for all. Your blood rushes to your ears, eyes shutting close as a new sobs rip through parted lips and delicated nails scratch the skin of his broad shoulders. Heat builds in your belly and you know you’re close—so close to cumming around nothing, merely by the fast friction of his throbbing cock over your clit.

And he notices it at the same you do, so he pulls out and flips you over the marble counter before you can reflect on what he’s doing.

“N–No! Sator—,”

“How empty is that pretty little head of yours, uh?” Condescending. His voice his painfully condescending, and so is his touch, so are his hands smacking your ass as the side of your face hits the counter. “You’re not cumming until you say the word,”

It’s a simple word, four letters that you have to spill, wrap your skilled tongue around it and push it through your swollen lips and into his ears. That is all you have to do. So you do.

“Daddy!” You finally yelp, vocal chords shaking the word out like a quake. It’s pathetic, even, how five simple letters merge into cries, becoming an incoherent mess that all can do is say it repeatedly. Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy. The name buries deeply in his ears and finds a home in the roots of his heart, forcing an explosion of something he can’t quite describe onto his veins. It reduces him to ashes, it revolves everything in his mind and suddenly—suddenly he’s back in control, suddenly he’s not a wandering dog anymore begging go you, suddenly he doesn’t turn into pieces for you to pick up.

Still, you drive him insane. Still, he’s weak to you. But you’re no longer in control and that fuels him like nothing will ever do.

And all your babbling keeps you from catching on his moves until he’s already sinking in your cunt roughly. You sob at the intrusion, pain exploding in your stomach and ache consuming you by the burning stretch.

“S-So good, baby, my baby is so good,” is all he grunts out, pressing his forehead into the back of your head.

He fucks you raw, more than he has ever done before. He fucks you so hard your limbs go numb and the only thing that stays clearly in your mind is that he’s also your Daddy now. He thrusts his hips into yours intensely, so much he basically has you bouncing the marble, and you scream so much it wouldn’t be a surprise if Suguru runs out of the room to make sure no one is slaughtering you, their sweet little princess.

It doesn’t take much after that for you to let go, with body and cervix bruised by his hands and cock, cumming within minutes of hips thrusting into your tiny hole. And he fucks you full of his cum, too. Too many times for you to properly remember the exact number, too much that you feel it dripping from your cunt, all over your thighs and into the counter—marble stained with the sticky substance. And he doesn’t stop at that, either, not until your face, your breasts, your belly and both your holes are so full of his cum you’re close to drooling it, too.

.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀♡⠀⠀⠀.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀♡⠀⠀⠀.

“You left a whole damn hickey on her face, dude,” Suguru’s snickering and he sounds so grumpy as he checks out your sleeping figure curled around his torso, sulky eyes finding the ones of his best friend to recrminate not so silently. “I’m not even that sure is a hickey. That looks like a goddamn punch straight to the jaw,” He then glances down at Satoru, who leans against the wall of the living room, eyebrows raised and lips chopping mindlessly around a cigarette. “Did you punched my baby?”

“Shut up,” Satoru snorts, crystal eyes rolling in annoyance. “Aren’t ya seeing that smile on her face? She’s sleeping like a baby, thanks to me. And she finally has some respect for me, so, we both win,”

“Pretty sure she had things to do early today,” Suguru mumbles, one hand holding the cigarette and the other mindlessly caressing your back above the shirt—Satoru’s shirt now—that covers your frame. “And in the afternoon, too. Guess we gotta let her sleep,”

“Agree,” Satoru walks to both of you, a shit eating grin flashing his features. “Let her rest and gain some energy. She’ll need it to give a warm morning to her favorite Daddy,”

And Suguru has something to say about that—because he’s sure his the favorite Daddy. But now Satoru thinks the same, too.

821 notes · View notes

blackenedsnow · 3 months ago

Note

Love your writing so bad like I wanna rq this cause It's so fun seeing how you write for every dude even the postal movie dude he is my cutiepie i swear /real

How would the dudes react being showered with kisses by their s/o then realizing they are covered in lipstick marks? cause these boys need sum kisses

the dudes being showered in kisses by their s/o ; headcanons

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Postal (1) Dude x Reader, Postal (2) Dude x Reader, Postal (3) Dude x Reader, Postal (4) Dude x Reader, Postal (BD) Dude x Reader, Postal (Movie) Dude x Reader

NOTE: I had so much fun writing these, and I’m thrilled you enjoy my take on each Dude! Enjoy!!

P1 DUDE

It’s the first time in a long while that he actually stops to live in the moment.

As your kisses cover his face, he’s initially tense, unsure of how to respond.

He stands rigid, clearly unused to affection of any kind.

But as you press more kisses to his cheek, forehead, and nose, he can’t help but soften a little.

When he finally pulls back and realizes he’s covered in lipstick marks, he’s… dumbfounded.

He stares at himself in the mirror, almost as if he can’t believe someone would willingly mark him with so much love.

“You… really like me, huh?”

he mumbles, almost as if he’s talking to himself.

You can tell he’s trying to process the warmth, the affection, and the idea that someone cares this much about him.

P2 DUDE

He’s already smirking as you start covering his face in lipstick marks, raising an eyebrow as if to say, Oh, really?

But he lets you keep going, his grin only growing as he playfully rolls his eyes and leans into each kiss, clearly enjoying the attention.

When he finally pulls back and checks himself out in the mirror, he laughs, reaching up to touch one of the lipstick marks on his jaw.

“Well, look at me—real killer, aren’t I?”

he jokes, half-proud and half-amused at the evidence of your affection.

“Guess I’m just too damn irresistible, huh?”

he says, throwing an arm around you with a smirk.

But there’s a genuine warmth to him underneath the teasing, and he’ll find little ways to keep the affection going, maybe pulling you in for a surprise kiss or making playful remarks all day.

P3 DUDE

He laughs when you start showering him with kisses, clearly flustered but trying to play it off.

“Whoa there, sweetheart, didn’t know you were this eager!”

When he realizes he’s covered in lipstick marks, he’s totally stunned.

He blinks a few times, then looks at you with a huge grin.

“Oh, hell yeah. Look at me, covered in love.”

He’s definitely the type to wear it with pride.

He might even show off to random strangers, pointing to a lipstick mark on his neck.

“See that? That’s from my babe. Lucky, huh?”

P4 DUDE

He raises an eyebrow when you start showering him in kisses, giving a dry chuckle.

“What’s this? Trying to leave me lookin’ like a clown?”

But when he sees the lipstick marks, there’s a faint blush on his cheeks.

He looks at himself, then back at you, a small smile breaking through his usual deadpan expression.

“Alright, I admit it… you got me.”

He keeps grumbling about it, but you can tell he’s secretly pleased.

He doesn’t wipe a single mark off, and later, he catches his reflection and lets out a quiet, affectionate sigh.

“Guess even a guy like me can get lucky.”

He gives you a playful nudge, muttering something about how he’ll get you back for all the ‘paint,’ but his smile says otherwise.

BD DUDE

He’s half-asleep, eyes barely open, lying in bed when you start covering his face with kisses, one after the other.

At first, he doesn’t even register it, thinking maybe he’s dreaming.

But the more you kiss him, the more he starts to mumble and groan, shifting just enough to get a better feel of your touch.

His reaction is hazy at first, a mumbled,

“Mmph… ‘s nice…”

as he melts under the attention, a sleepy smile crossing his face.

As he slowly blinks awake, he touches his cheek and feels the smudge of lipstick, finally noticing all the marks.

When he realizes you’ve covered him in kisses, he raises an eyebrow with a lopsided smirk, rubbing his jaw like he’s trying to remember how he got so lucky.

“Hey,… how come you’re givin’ me all this,?”

he mutters, still half-asleep but looking at you with appreciation in his eyes.

He’ll go right back to lying there, patting the spot next to him, only half-caring about all the marks.

“C’mon, don’t stop… feels pretty damn nice.”

He doesn’t care if he ends up a mess of lipstick smudges and soft bites because all that matters to him is that you’re the one who put them there.

He even playfully pulls you in closer to keep the kisses going, mumbling how he totally doesn’t mind being your canvas if it means waking up to more mornings like this.

MOVIE DUDE

He’s surprised, his eyes going wide as he registers your kisses peppering every part of his face.

His first reaction is a surprised laugh, not used to being shown so much affection so freely.

The sweetness catches him off-guard in the best way.

When he finally pulls back, he looks at you with that boyish grin, touching his cheek and noticing all the lipstick marks you left behind.

He’s more amused than anything, his hands still holding your face as he shakes his head a little.

“Wow, I’m like... a work of art here. You sure you’re not just tryin’ to show me off?”

he teases, touching the marks on his cheeks and forehead with a growing grin.

He lightly traces the ones on his neck, feeling a warm rush but enjoying it.

“Not that I mind...hah”

He’s gentle, practically glowing with happiness as he pulls you close again.

He’s not embarrassed about walking around with all the marks on his face—if anything, he takes it as a proud badge of honor, evidence of how loved he feels.

#postal dude #postal #postal dude x reader #postal 1 #postal 2 #postal 3 #postal 4 #postal brain damaged #postal movie #x reader #ask #request #fanfic #headcanons

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orelicia · 23 days ago

Note

Hiee!!:D

I just read your post about the characters' periods and I love it so much!! I've already shared to most of my friends!!! Please make more!!😭/nopressure

"You get periods?!" By MC <3 (pt. 2)

Xeijun's Letters: Thank you so much for the love on the first, This is second one with the younger brothers line..

|| Pt. 1 || Pt. 2 ||

Warnings: cannibalism, eating raw meat, mentions of blood and vomiting, poisonous plants, flowers, etc. Almost fem! coded reader? Because I'm fem...so. A bit OCC due to hormonal imbalance in our bois. This is a continuation, a bit different than @/tsukii0002's posts. Go check them out, pls. They're so good! I couldn't add the dancing part though in Asmode's scenario, SORRY! T^T

Satan

Taking the step down from the shop's raised platform, you place the antiseptic cream in the polythene plastic bag, before handing it to Lucifer.

Lucifer was seriously considering his life-choices all the time during this time of the month when Satan's on his period...But he adores his brothers, so who's he to judge??

Okay, maybe a little bit of a judge, BUT COME ON! It's raw meat! With the blood and all...

He deserves to judge a little, but rather not face a smack from your end, so he kept quiet while you two walked home. Satan stayed home from RAD, the others had half days, only you and Lucifer had full..so sad.

"And how long does it last?" he asks, feeling a bit ashamed that he doesn't know it so well, but then again when does Satan ever allow him close enough? But you also seemingly don't know,

"Just comes and goes.."

You and Lucifer sighed in unison, but perked when you heard a scream rip through some road and cross-section alleyway with a familiar green glow..Making you both run, Lucifer ahead of you, as he turned the corner, slipping almost as Lucifer's leather shoes squeaked, before stopping to face..

Satan holding a guy by his throat, against the wall, his tail lashing out, barbed beyond belief, dusty and slightly messy feathers ruffling out from his neck, the scleras of his eyes gone inky black, his fangs baring against the guy with his claws ready to slash him, before Lucifer grabbed him and you used your pact

"Avatar of wrath, STAY!"

You loudly proclaimed, Satan kept thrashing in Lucifer's grip, before freezing in position, giving enough time for the guy to escape, muttering a quick "I owe you my life" before hurrying down the streets, running away.

Satan growled, his claws trying to remove the pact mark's affects to slash whoever was holding him back, as Lucifer held tightly, breathing heavily, "Shhh, Satan...! Stop it this instant" he hissed, his muscular gently holding Satan by his shoulders and Lucifer's one hand was on Satan's head.

Lucifer subconsciously rubbed his thumb across the spam of the area..

you wouldn't mention it before you died, but Satan seemingly melted a bit hearing Lucifer's voice, but you know Satan'd rather DIE than admit that.

You gently pushed back his hair, the pact mark on the right side of your abdomen, right under your arm glowing green gently, as he finally made eye contact with you and smiled brightly, like a child, but then he realized his "prey" got away, so now he just seemed sad and annoyed, while you made Lucifer let him go.

You pact mark stopped glowing, as the pact mark's affected subsided as Satan pushed Lucifer off and clung to you tightly, smiling contently as Lucifer rolled his eyes, ushering you two home. With Satan trying to attempting to cannibalize anyone in the way home, if not you and Lucifer stopped him each time.

By the time you got home, Lucifer had aged 70 years, it seemed, leaving to run back to his room, so you also ushered Satan to his room, promising you'd be there since he was growling at Lucifer, trying to hurt him for being too close to you, poor thing was angry for no reason due to his hormones.

But since Lucifer basically ran away like Levi during a social event, Satan gently kissed you and snuggled his head against you walking off his to room before you went to the kitchen to plate the raw meat and keep the antiseptic somewhere in your pocket as you changed and ushered back.

You walked back to Satan's room, you placed the plate somewhere, pressing your nose, as you saw him scratching his sheets away almost as he pouted.

You gently ruffled his hair, pulling off a feather or two from his back as he shuddered, annoyed at his "nest" which wasn't working, as you fixed it gently for him, piling things, so it's a little deeper. Satan seemed happy enough as he settled as you handed him the plate of the raw meat, giving him the assumption you "hunted" for him, and hopefully, it won't end up with him vomiting over you after over-eating raw meat again.

Satan just seemed happy, his teeth now almost an inch longer and making it harder to close his mouth if not for him chewing on his tail for a comfort like a baby sucks on it's thumb.

You sighed, letting him eat while you plucked off the feathers on his back and neck, or pulled them apart because they were stuck, while admiring Satan's horns, which had gotten an bioluminescent glow which was between sage and sea foam green, just adorable!

Every time you touched it, it glowed in the darkness since Satan refused to turn on the light. Having his eyes already hurt from light, his pupils were so round, almost covering the colour of his irises, he kept his room dark, refuse to let anyone come in, ESPECIALLY his brothers or others, or anyone other than you, basically.

He was of-course fidgety, refusing to actually let you touch him at times or get close, like right now every few minutes, he tensed up,

"I'm fine, 'Tan.." you whispered, hugging his back and kissing his cheek while he tensed, but wiping the blood off your lips, as to not gag at the smell, while he ate and sometimes offered you the raw meat, his tail still sharp and sometimes got irritated by the mattress stuck on it.

You took chance to remove the extra scales from it too, which was rather satisfying, you had to admit..

As he extended his hand with a piece of some part of whatever animal he was eating, "No, thanks, darling" you smiled, or so simply put it in your mouth without chewing or anything before removing it and placing it back to his plate when he wasn't looking, poor thing.

After eating and getting him forcefully cleaned up, yo gently let him lean against you, his body warm and almost borderline burning and feverish, until he finally got assured you're be careful and wouldn't be hurt, as he laid against and his body seemed to cool within seconds, like ice.

His tail tightened around your thigh, a bit scratchy and a cut or two, but you hid it, assuring him you were okay as he snuggled against you, purring loud like a motorboard,

As you felt him smuggle a little piece of raw meat against your mouth as you grumbled, "SATAN!" as he smiled, only kissing you.

Asmodeus

Asmodeus had his feet tapping on the floor, so long...his wings, neon fuschia now as he filed his nails, but somehow only making them sharper as he worriedly pacd the floor, hoping you were coming home.

Asmo was covered in a blanket and fever high due to his periods, so he was tired and even more panicked,

Were you late?! Were you hurt...DID YOU FIND SOMEONE ELSE PRETTIER THAN HIM?!

Nononono...He couldn't lose you, you were...everything.The best experience, the best warmth..the best love, he couldn't bear to think of you with anyone. NO. You were his and he was YOURS.

He'll make sure of it, he knew..As Asmo stood up, wearing a jacket on as he pulled open the door, just in time to see you, holding a large bag with masks, gloves and glasses, like you had gone mining as he felt himself melt,

"You're home!" Asmo said brightly, as you remove your mask and goggles and he immediately pulled you into a kiss, making you place the bag somewhere on the side.

As Asmo pulled away, removing his jacket, he snuggled his face against yours, not even wearing makeup today, so you knew he was over the moon or something to see you, seeing as he never did that.

In his demon, Asmo's wings fluttered gently, brushing against you as you both sat on the bed, while he polished his horns gently, his wings and hors covered in velvety coating and translucent, letting you barely see the clear-pinkish mechanisms of the beehive like structure of his horns or diamond shaped structure of his wings.

You helped him gently polish, though he was skittish, "Ah-No...Thank you" he whispered gently, a blush coating his cheeks a he bashfully let you do it, ever so often pulling away to snuggle deeper, until he was asking you do it constantly,

"Over there, yes-! Thank you"

Asmo smiled, his wings flapping in delight.

You pulled away, letting him relax as you ran to get the bag, and run back to him, kissing his cheek as you get into his nest, handing him the bg as you pulled your mask tighter and your goggles tight too, as he giggled,

"Oh?~ What's this?" he asked, smilin, "Open it!" you said excitedly, hoping he'd like it. Asmo gently tore it, using his finger nails, to find a himself a supply of poisonous plants, fruits, flowers, raw meat, bottles of bodily fluids like blood or some animals and even mushrooms that he liked.

It had nightshade roots, arsenic shrimp blood, sulphur mushrooms, Momonin flowers, Henbane, Foxglove stuff like that...As his smile widened after every item he found,

And god, he was falling more in love as he smiled brightly to you, "Oh my Diavolo...THANK YOU!" he smiled, hugging you tightly and kissing your masked cheeks as you smiled,

"it's nothing.", "it's everything!!" he said brightly.

You pulled the bag towards you, as he smiled and possibly chewed on a little nightshade root, enjoying himself. As oyu pulled a neon bright glowing flower, his room's light were dimmed, seeing as he also couldn't handle light in his eyes.

The flower glowed bright pink with red spots and orange strips, the air around it was softly bubbling and boiling, giving off the smell of burnt plastic mixed with blood and quite possibly like sulphur, god forbid how much you had to beg Barbatos to find you one of these for Asmo.

Asmo felt himself bright ten times more, his white scleras going black as he hugged you so tightly, you felt like you were gonna pop, seeing as he couldn't kiss you because of the things you were wearing, he squeezed you in a hug.

Otherwise you'd be ravaged right here and right now.

He held the flower close to him, as you gently pinned it behind his ear, Asmo was taking the chance to gossip with you, he got even cattier on his periods, it seemed, who knew it was possible?

As you and Asmo spoke, his hands were travelling everywhere as he gently pressed himself against you. Asmo's fingers running through his hair gently, as he snuggled.

Rubbing his inner wrists against your neck as Asmo cupped your face, placing a kiss or two on top of your head as he spoke, rubbing his cheek against yours otherwise.

Finishing his third nightshade root and second vial of blood, his manicured fingers gently stroked your hair, before trying to pull off your mask as you held his wrist,

"I-I wanna kiss you..though!" he said, pouting as you saw his black scleraed eyes glow and get glassy and watery, "My love, Asmo..you just had three nightshade roots.., ", "So?" he whispered, almost crying.

You sighed, holding him closer as you shook your head placing the flowers right behind you two in a vase, "I love you, but I'd also like to live as well" you said, reminding him that you were human as he paused,

"...Oh.."

As he scratched his face gently smiling sheepishly remembering you would die if not for the mask, the goggled and heavy earcovers too.

As he sniffed softly, his nose burning as he realized what was happening, "Oh god...they smell too harsh" he whispered, almost feeling bad that you worked hard and he couldn't keep flowers in his rooms..

You worked so hard to get these things and he couldn't keep them because his nose would burn and eventually bleed and he didn't even want that and you felt even more guilty for forgetting that details..

You gently reached towards the items, placing them back in the bag,

"Let me enchant them-", "No! It's fine..You did so much already, this is just my bad luck.." he huffed stopped you gently, as you shook your head, cupping his cheek and taking the flower,

"you want to keep these flowers and these things in your room, you get to keep them." you said smiling, cupping his cheek and rubbing your thumb across the spam of the area, "I don't care if I'm tired, you're my priority right now!" you said brightly

You gently held the flower behind his ear and gently worked to enchant it, though it was hard, "But-..." he paused, feeling his face warm, feverish as it always was during his period, he felt like crying,

"It'll be less trouble to just remove them.."

"but YOU want them HERE."

you said simply, enchanting it and putting it behind his ear, pinning it to his hair again as he smiled softly, while you continued to enchant every single item to have no smell..

He was glad somebody atleast loved him like this..What he wouldn't give to have it all to himself all the time?

Beelzebub

You huffed as you walked out of the house to the garden, to Beelzebub's nest. Beel's nest was dug out in the garden, underground LITERALLY.. At first his nests weren't in the house, in his and Belphie's room, but now it in his middle of his period, he shifted to gallery in garden.

You gently knocked on the little metal door, the brothers got installed for Beel, as asoft clicking chitter came out, as Beel pushed the panel, looking into your eyes and smiled, as you smiled back. His skin had gotten a bit transparent now, so sometimes you could see the bones and skeleton if light faced him directly, so he looked somehow hotter..

You gently crawled into the hole, and slid into it, landing on a little pillow as Beel stayed flying gently above the ground to help you settle as you smiled, showing him the bag of snacks you got specifically for him..

As he sat down beside you, crawling, his fly-esque wings fluttering to produce a softer, buzzing sound, not the annoying one, and it shined with coloured of orange-red and with extremely complex patterns..

His horns iridescent and glowing soft red every time peeks of light hit him, the gallery was built like a bunker, but light still came in from outside..

As you shifted, you felt a little lump under you, you shifted only to find-...Luke! You almost screamed if not for Beel shushing you, softly letting out clicking and buzzes as if to say don't wake up the boy! while you huffed, quickly handing a text to Lucifer as you made Beel wake Luke and put him outside.

Poor Luke was scrambling like a puppy, scared but you calmed and assured him he was fine, Beel did get reprimanded, but he ignored Lucifer like it didn not matter which shocked Lucifer as you apologized on Beel's behalf to Lucifer.

"Beel...You need to apologize" you said to him, giggling as he buzzed as if to No, I won't! as he looked away, huffing.

Beel continued to brush his wings gently with his large hands, so delicate and soft it was mesmerizing, but occasionally he got too rough on no occasion, so now you were adamant on watching over him and his grooming, even helping him out..

"Gentle..Your wings are super delicate at the side" you told, it was like Beel didn't know how his wings were at times.

You placed the large bag of snacks you got on the side, looks like the two month's worth of food he accumulated before his period was finished already, but THANK DIAVOLO his appetite decreased, did not mean he wasn't eating insane amounts...just less nowadays.

Beel softly buzzed, reading the packet of "grape chips" and opening it as you closed your nose, disgusted by the flavour choice.. as Beel extended them to you, feeding you, till you were almost bursting..That's just how it was to you, as you denied it weetly,

"they're for you, sugar" you said, smiling.

Beel let out a sad chitter and you knew you couldn't deny him, so you took a few in your hands and ate them..not too bad, just a weird taste, it was neutral, really.. as Beel happily clicked, watching you lovingly eat..it filled his hunger when he saw you eat, honestly.

After almost bursting open by food, Beel chose to sleep...first he wanted to sleep upside down with you, but after a little debating with the little critter, he finally agreed to sleep in the corner.

Beel's head on your collar bones near your throat, while you hummed to let out soft vibrations to comfort him while your fingers ran through his hair and his wings gently, while he softly let out clicks to tell you about his day as you hummed in acknowledgment.

As you kept humming your favourite song to comfort with the vibrations of your throat since he was leaning against your throat basically, as time passed in silence when Beel's chest filled with slight worry and sadness, wondering if his brothers and Luke were okay..

Did they need food? Did they eat? Did they do their homework? Was Lucifer okay? Was Mammon wasting money safely? Where Satan and Belphegor doing anarchy safely? Every question about his brothers...

As he let out soft worried humans nd chitters, was if debating between standing up and laying against you, so it was like heavy weight lifted off and on top of you every few seconds.

"Beel, sugar...Beel, baby! You okay?" you asked, snapping him out of it as he chittered panicked, as if he was late to some event or forget something important, but you knew him well enough by now, as you sighed, pulling him against you, though he resisted a bit, but laid against you,

"Beel...Your brothers and Luke are fine. Mammon is safely gambling, Belphie and Satan are also committing anarchy safely too!" you said quelling a few thoughts before he piped up, letting out a buzz, before you stopped him,

"Yes, they ate. I just had lunch with them before I came here. Don't worry... Lucifer is with them… and the others will take care of Lucifer for you..."

you smiled, stroking his cheek gently with your nails of your right hand which was hold his face and the pinky finger of you left hand strokes his nose-bridge to silence him,

"And...I'll care for you..." you asurred and smiled, hugging Beel close.

Belphegor

"FUCK!" You annoyed kicked a blanket, looking around to find your shirt to get to RAD this morning, only in your bottoms and pants, you stood there, searching for your teal shirt, grumbling..

You huffed, walking out, just topless, only to see Lucifer also there, searching for his jacket, before he made eye contact and covered his eyes, "Why are you shirtless? This is inappropriate, ou know?" he said, making you scoff

"As if I don't know that! I can't find it!", "I can't find my coat either" he said, grumbling as he continued to look around his room, while you huffed, running around to the brothers to see everyone had a shirt, jacket, blanket or plushie or something missing..

"Ay, hand my Ruri-chan blanket and plushies back, STUPID MAMMON!" Levi yelled, tackling a shirtless Mammon who punched back,

"I don' have it, ya stupi' Otaku!" Mammon yelled back, as you groaned, walking upstairs, to the the twin's room to see if Beel or Belphie had it. You found Beel, and lifted Belphie's blanket iple to nt find making Beel panic,

"BELPHIE!" he said panicked, as you assured him that Belphie's probably fine and let him go to go to the attic to find Belphie, hoping he'd know something about this.

You found Belphie, alright...In a blanket fort with 5 of Levi's ruri-chan blanket, one of Lucifer's custom silk and fur blanket, Asmo's expensive shirts, and everyone's RAD shirts and jackets..

As you grumbled, shaking Belphie, who was sleeping under a patch of sunlight since it was one of those days where sunlight came out, it was increased by Belphie using a spell, s he lazily laid there.

"Belphie, get up!" you grumbled, gently shaking him as he woke up, his shirt riding to show his chest with fluff on it, all spotted with dark blue and white like his hair, and his tail was also spotted now; dark blue and white as well.

Belphie grumbled as he woke up, but smiled, not caring how mad you looked, as he held your hand bringing it to his lips to kis your knuckles as you tried not to smile at this spoiled brat, as he laid it on his head while you scratched his head,

"You're using RAD shirts, you know? We have classes to attend, Belphie" you told him as he rolled his eyes,

"so what?"

he said, smirking...the audacity of this brat...

All while he showed his round eyes like a little calf, while you scoffed. He must've really wanted you to smack him, as he rubbed his neck and wrapped his arms your RAD shirt, which laid crumpled beside his bed..As he huffed,

"Come onn, pat my head and tummy, you're so warm" he huffed in a voice high-pitched than, spoiled brat, as you gently rubbed his tummy, as he smiled.

You felt better he wasn't annoyed at everything that moved now, like he was a few days ago, having no sleep meant Belphie was so irritated, he almost hit Beel too gently, but he stopped and apologized wholeheartedly to beel..Only beel, not even you.

Belphie gently yawned, and held your wrist, pulling you with barely any energy but so much strength, you almost swung over, as you laid on top of him, huffing..You were LATE TO RAD and this is what he wants to do?! And not only that, you were burning..god he ran too warm during his periods...

He gently kissed your cheek, trailing them down to your collar bones, gently licking and biting, but not anything sexual..just because, and you could smell a rather unique smell as you groaned, you knew the brother would bitch on end about Belphie's smell on you now.

"What? Don't like it?"

he asked, smiling and eyes bright as Belphie gently tapped in rhythm on the back of your thighs and continued to kiss your cheeks or nose and neck, it might have been his mating moment,

but you couldn't care less, not right now atleast..Lucifer was gonna bake you and feed you two to Beel if he learnt this is what you two were doing..

You gently got off of him, making him grumble, as you huffed, trying to search for you and the brother's shirts, promising him, he can take your spare ones. But you seemed to have offended him, as he simply turned over and rolled his eyes..

You grumbled under your breath, working around until you heard small sniffles and turned to him, glaring at you, but teary and crying into his pillows as you sighed.

You gently put your arms under his arms and gently pulled him up and into your arms,

"Now..Why are you crying?"

you asked softly, as Belphie hiccuped, which almost made you awe if not for his tears.

"Tell me honestly, do you even love me?!" he demanded, pouting, "Yes!" you sighed, "but you rejected me?!" he said, bewildered and upset as you sighed, gently kissing him as he hummed back,

"I'm sorry okay? I love you, but I'd rather not be today's dinner if Lucifer finds us doing this.."

you whispered as he came to realization and nodded, kissing you a few more times, rubbing himself on you for good measures, so his brother REALLY smell him on you.

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just-some-random-blogger · 9 months ago

Text

Edge Of Ever After | 4

Part 1 2 3 4 5

Sandor runs his fingers down my spine and sighs, "everything I ever touch goes to shit." He grabs my hip and pulls me close. I turn to him and nestle my face into his chest. He traps me in his arms, "but you... you turn my shit into gold."

Sandor Clegane x Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, smut (piv, cunnilingus), mentions of pregnancy/fertility issues, sunshine x grump, enemies to lovers (to enemies ? HAHA), slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, horrible communication, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: cross posted on ao3

I wake up with laboured breath, with a severe tightness in my stomach. I grunt and shift, realizing promptly Sandor's arm was squeezing me.

"Sandor," I groggily yelp, yanking his arm off me.

Thankfully, his arm gives and I manage to roll away. I catch my breath and whimper, making a disgruntled face at my husband.

In the name of the seven gods, the man was still asleep, as though he did not make an attempt on my life unwittingly. I huff and push myself up on my elbows, "Sandor."

I nudge him with my knee.

He sighs peacefully in his sleep.

I huff and brush his hair. I caress the side of his face which was free from burn marks and shake my head, "you vicious pup. How am I to sleep now?"

I turn to the window, seeing how the sun was barely shining and decide it was worth it to try and go back to sleep.

Alas, I could not and eventually just got out of bed. I decide to tidy up and change, giving us a headstart for the day.

I struggle to get myself ready, especially in doing the ties of my dress and styling my hair. After deciding I looked decent enough, I pondered what to do with the sopping wet clothes we had from the night before. I gather them from the floor, wrapping them in towels, as they were still dripping wet, and head downstairs.

When I reach the main room where we had eaten dinner, I gawk at how large it looks without it overflowing with people.

"Can I help ya?" a low and slightly annoyed voice asks.

I turn and make a soft sound of surprise at the sight of the hulking man before me. I smile at him, "good morn to you. Yes. If you could, that would be lovely."

He raises his thin brows as I shuffle with the clothes in my hands.

"If it is possible, I would like to have my clothes washed. They have gotten terribly-"

He grabs the clothes from me.

"-oh... wet from last night..."

He inspects the clothes pulling them apart one by one, the hanging them on his large arm.

"I- UH-" I freeze when he picks out my shift and small clothes. I begin to fidget but he doesn't bat an eye. He does raise his brows when he sees Sandor's clothes.

He holds it up then looks at me, "this yours, lil lady?"

"My husband's."

He measures the shirt against him, "he's almost as big as me."

I blink at his observation.

He huffs and tilts his head, "it's gonna cost ya. Work don't come for free."

I nod quickly, "and I can pay," I pull out some coin, "I would also like some food for us."

He takes the coin from me, "it's not gonna be ready til a lil later."

I nod again, "I understand. I can wait."

He stares at me for a moment. He tilts his head the other side, "what's your name then, lady?"

I tell him my name and then he laughs.

"Clegane? Like the Mountain?"

I am married to his brother, Sandor."

"Mmm," he walks off, "must be nice being Lord Clegane."

I step back as he exits through the front door. And as if on cue, Trysha comes in, "ooh, pleasant morning, dear lady. I see you've met my other son."

Oh. I smile at her.

"Did he give you a hard time? What did you need?"

"Some laundry services and break fast. I've already paid for it."

Trysha smiles, "well, don't you worry, milady. I'll go find Donnie and see to your laundry. Riley will cook you and your lord food first thing."

"Oh, thank you, Trysha," I smile back.

She nods at me, "it's my pleasure, milady."

I step forward and fidget with my fingers, "if I may, how many children do you have?"

She grins, "I have five sons, each as big as the other. The first is Wencel, then Donnie, Riley, Graham, and Ian."

"I see. And I assume their father was quite large as well."

"Aye," she wiggles her brows, "if you know what I mean."

My lips part yet I say nothing.

She giggles and shakes her head, "why, how improper of me to jest with a lady."

I chuckle nervously, feeling my face warm slightly.

"Ah," she sighs, "Riley is the spitting image of his da, from face to the frame. He gets his ruggedness from me though. My Hugh wouldn't hurt a fly... and that would be why he got killed."

I frown at his words, "my deepest sympathies for your loss."

She waves a hand, "it's been ages. It was a hard day but you learn to live with it." With that, she smiles and says she'll tell Riley to start making my food.

I walk towards the open door and hum at the sight of the muddy floor. I debate if I should get my boots dirty, but figure, it'll get dirty anyway once we leave, so might as well. Mud could be washed off.

I pick up my skirt and tread carefully out of the place. I wander towards the stables and remember that Riley mentioned our horses were moved somewhere else.

I spot a man by the beasts. I lock eyes with him and smile, "good morrow! Are you the stable keeper?"

He stares back at me, face contorting slowly.

As I walk closer, I realize just how large he is, appearing opposite, only because he was dwarfed by the horses around him. I then wonder if he was one of Trysha's other sons.

"Who's askin'?"

I manage to step on a drier patch of dirt and explain to him who I was. I tell him I was only concerned for the well-being of my steeds, since they got terribly wet in the storm last night.

"Ahhhh," he says with some form of realization, "you're the lady Riley spoke about."

I hum, "if the lady was one he saved from a gang of brutish men, then, indeed, tis I."

The pets one of the horses' snouts and tilts his head, wordlessly walking off after.

I furrow my brows and clutch my skirt tightly, "do you expect me to follow?"

The man stops and turns back to me when he realizes I don't.

"You answered none of my questions and did not even say where you are leading me off."

He raises a brow a me, "clearly, I'm leading you to your horses."

"Well, it was not clear to me because you did not say so," I shake my head, "I do not even know your name. Why would I follow you?"

He purses his lips and crosses is arms, "and telling you my name will make a difference?"

"Of course."

He stares at me for a moment then chuckles dryly., "Graham."

"Brilliant," I smile at the confirmation of his identity, "lead the way, then, Graham."

Graham leads me off to a wood shed that had enough vacancy to house my two horses. They recognize me and chuff. I smile and offer each my attention and touch their faces.

"Hello, hello," a voice calls from the side.

A man walks towards Graham. He is red in the face and sweaty as he carries a large log on one shoulder.

"Hello there. Good morn," I offer in between combing my horse's mane with my fingers.

He drops the log on the ground. He huffs and tilts his head when he looks at Graham. Graham shrugs, then they both turn back to me.

"Need some help, lady?"

"Mmm?" I turn back to him, "no, I just wanted to check on my horses."

"Traveling with a bodyguard?"

"I'm travelling with my husband," I reply as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I look between the two, and in this moment, realize they looked awfully similar, "you wouldn't happen to be named Wencel, would you?"

The man curls his lips up as the other laughs, "nay, lady! I'm Ian."

Graham slaps the man's arm in laughter.

Ian shoves him away, "I look nothing like that ugly shite."

"Who you calling ugly, orge?" a deep voice speaks above the sound of galloping hooves.

A man leading a donkey with a caravan walks towards us. He does not stop and eyes me as he walks past. He nods his head at me and I offer the same regard. I watch as he leads the horse to what was probably a back entrance to the inn.

"MY ASS IS PRETTIER THAN YOU!" Ian calls out.

"At least my ass is done with my morning chores."

Graham laughs harder.

If it was not painfully obvious before, it was now. These men were brothers, Trysha's sons. Though they were big burly men, the sight of them made me feel warm. They reminded me of my own brothers, how I used to be with them. It make me imagine what it would be like had they not died, and even how they would be once I had a son of my own.

I press my lips into a line and feel myself fel sick. I give my horses on last pet before going back inside the inn.

When I get back inside, I am faced with Riley, who perks up when he sees me.

"Oh, h-hello... I wanted you to know I've started cooking, but I didn't know what you wanted... so I was gonna ask."

"Oh," I bring myself to smile, "I'm alright with anything. I normally eat whatever my servants prepare, which is porridge, or eggs."

Riley hums, "alright. I'll be done soon. Take a seat."

I don't have an opportunity to ask if I could bring the food upstairs, so I merely just sit down and wait.

The moment I do, Graham and Ian walk in. They walk towards me and look at each other before turning back to me, "if our conversation offended you, we apologize," Graham says.

"Aye," Ian nods, "if you want to go back to the horses again-"

I shake my head, "no." I take in a breath, "I left because I was finished. My apologies for leaving without a word."

"Nay, it's alright," Ian waves his hands.

"Aye, aye," Graham nods.

"Out of the way," Riley says, shoving his brothers to the side. As the two shuffle away, Riley places a bunch of plates before me. Porridge, eggs, sausage, bread, jam, and fruit laid on a tray before me.

"Oh my, thank you-- this is a lot."

"Aye, seven fucking hells," Graham mutters, "can you finish all that?"

"I can help!" Ian blurts.

"Fuck off," Riley hisses.

"Actually," I shake my head, "my husband won't be awake until early afternoon, so please," I motion, "help yourselves."

Ian sits down across from me without much thought. He sighs as he eats the fruits, "fuck I haven't eaten yet."

"Lying bastard," Graham grabs the strawberry in his brothers fingers, "you ate my ham."

Just as Riley looks like he's about to tell his brothers off, I cut him off by offering him to eat with us.

Riley looks at me in shock for a moment. The next moment, he walks off and comes back with more food.

The next thing I know, all five brothers and their mother break their fast with me. Whatever unpleasant idea that tried to fester in my head was warded off by their familial bickering. It make my heart feel a little Les lonely to be in this moment with them, even though I was a merely spectator.

At some point, they ask my about myself and I tell them about Lucy, about my pups, about Sandor's strawberry garden.

"Aww, I'm glad to know your husband adores you," Trysha says.

One of the men grumbles.

Ian says through a mouthful, "if you ever comes to it, we can set you free."

I stare at him with confusion, "pardon?"

"Kill'im," Donnie says.

"Donnie!" their mother scolds, "that's not what he meant."

"That's exactly what he meant."

"Ian!" Trysha slaps her youngest on the arm.

"Aye," Wencel agrees.

"Wencel!" she scolds. She sighs where I chuckle. I shake my head, "I am flattered, but you needn't worry. My husband takes care of me."

Trysha nods, "and we can tell. My boys are just untrusting of men because of how I've been treated after their father died."

I offer her a solemn look and take her hand.

She waves me off and rubs my hand, "it's alright, milady."

Just then, I hear my name get called. I turn and see Sandor, frozen at the end of the staircase. I smile and wave at him.

I stand and walk up to him. I haul him to my seat and sit beside him. He looks at the faces around the table.

"Here," I push some porridge towards him, "it's still a bit warm."

"I'll go get you some more food, lady," Riley says, gathering some of the empty plates, standing up, and walking off.

"I'll go help," Wencel stands next, cleaning off what remained on the table.

"I have to finish chopping wood," Ian says.

Graham leaves without a word.

Donnie stares at Sandor. Sandor stares back at him.

Trysha smiles, placing a hand on my husband's shoulder. He turns to her as she says, "my sons and I were keeping your lady company, milord. She is a darling. I'm glad to know how much you care for her."

Sandor turns to me. I smile and shrug.

With that, Trysha stands and nudges Donnie. The man follows and he clears his throat. He nods before walking off with his mother.

Sandor glares at him until he disappears. He turns back to me, "by all the gods old and new. What the fuck was that, woman?"

I wave my arms, "I ate with the inn keeper and her sons."

He groans and leans towards me. He wraps his arms around me and I whimper when he bites my neck.

"I won't share you," he mutters against my skin, rather unprompted.

I am tickled by the feel of his beard and pull away, "Sandor-"

"Don't leave the room before I wake ever again."

"San-"

"I'm not playing," he straightens up, "this isn't a game, girl."

I press my lips into a line.

Riley comes back with some food for Sandor. The two of them stare hotly at the other before Riley walks of. The Hound huffs as he begins to eat everything he gets his paws.

"What are you doing?"

"Putting my armor on, what does it look like I'm doing?"

I walk up next to him as he puts on his top. I knit my brows and place my hands on his arms to stop him, "we cannot leave yet."

"And why the fuck not?" he snaps, "don't tell me you want to hang around those smelly oafs."

I raise my brows at him, "you're one to judge a smelly oaf."

Sandor stills.

I release his arms.

We stare at each other.

I blink as I look up at him.

"Damn."

I bite my lip and break into a giggle.

Sandor sighs and shakes his head.

I yelp when he bends down and grabs me, throwing me over his shoulder. I shriek, "Sandor! My belly! Your armor hurts!"

Sandor dumps me on the bed and shakes his head again, "dirty game for a dirty girl," he removes his armor, "this what you wanted? To rid me of all my clothes? To bathe with me?"

He chucks his armor onto the floor dramatically.

I cannot help my laugh. I get on my knees and crawl towards him, "I wasn't playing a dirty game, dirty boy."

Sandor groans and places his large hand beneath my jaw, the rest of his palm sprawls on my neck.

I giggle and hand my hands on his wrist, "I had our clothes washed. We couldn't possibly leave them."

He rolls his eyes.

I scoff in offence, "do not roll your eyes at me.*"

He tilts my head back; his fingers snake into the roots of my hair, "do not play games with me then."

"I'm not-" I push him off and get on my feet, "-playing games with you!"

I impose upon him. I cross my arms and look down at him from where I stood on the edge of the bed, "why can't you take me seriously?"

Sandor looks up at me. His lips part and his breath hitches.

I await his response but he gives me none. He gawks at me instead. I knit my brows deeper, "well? Suddenly you're at a loss for words."

He gulps. He strokes his beard, "you're right... I should take my clothes off..."

I pull my head back, "wh-" I cut myself off as I watch him undress.

Sandor rids himself of his shirt and drops it on the floor. He eyes me up and down, "now you."

I am at a loss for words. He wraps his arms around my legs and sinks his face into my side. I place my hands on his shoulders and watch him as he inhales deeply. I cannot help but chuckle, "Sandor."

He looks up at me. I raise my brows at him. He rubs his face on my clothes.

"And here you had yourself believing I was the bitch in heat."

Sandor perks at the thought then bursts into a belly laugh, deep and rich and lovely.

I give a gleeful giggle in response. It realize now that this was a rather rare occurrence. I caress the side of his face, the scarred side. His laughter does not cease. He does not flinch.

My breath hitches when he leans back into my stomach. He sighs, "can you blame me? You smell so good."

I bite my lip and comb my fingers though his hair, "you have to help me out of my dress if you want me naked."

Sandor pulls back and gawks, rather taken aback.

I jump down the bed. I look up at him, then turn around. He wastes no time in undoing my dress. He was a bit too hasty about it, which elicits a giggle from me.

I tut, "husband. Do I look like I'm running away anytime soon?"

Sandor pushes my hair aside and licks a stripe on my neck, causing me to whimper. He nips the area then peppers it with kisses, "you make me feel like a starved dog."

I gasp when he pulls my dress off, along with the rest of my clothing. He wraps his arms around me and continues to kiss my shoulder.

He breaks away only to rid himself of his pants. I turn to watch and bite my lip at the sight of his half-hardened member. He cups my cheeks then he kisses me. I wrap my arms around him, moaning when I feel him press against me.

We end up on the bed, with Sandor squishing me beneath him. I mewl and make room for him between my thighs.

Sandor kisses my neck. My breath catches when he bites me harder than normal.

"Puppy," I whine.

The Hound groans and pulls away from my neck to roughly kiss my lips. I yelp when I feel him grind his hips into mine.

"Stop calling me that, girl," he mutters under a hot breath. He pulls away to give me a grumpy look.

I feel my belly flip. I chew my lip, bat my lashes, then kiss his chin, "but you are my puppy."

Sandor nudges my face with his own and nips at my jaw, "you should know that pups don't listen to anything but themselves."

I give and airy chuckle. He slowly moves down on me.

" 'M hungry."

"W-we just ate."

He kisses down my belly, "like the taste of pretty squirrels."

I grip on the sheets when he pushes my thighs up.

My mouth makes noises before my brain can tell it to do otherwise. My belly tightens and my breath catches as he kisses my womanhood. I whimper when he laps my folds through labored breaths. He hooks his arms around my thighs and pulls them apart when I begin to squeeze his face a bit too much.

"Sandor," I whine, looking down at him. I tangle my fingers into his hair and pull at his roots. I let out an erratic sound, "w-w-- mmm-- fuck- wait-"

Sandor does not hear me, or more accurately, ignores me and sucks on my sensitive nub. He goes on by licking firm circles and strokes on my weeping cunny.

We had done this only a few times, and each time, it was a mind breaking. Perhaps a little too much so.

My back arches as I feel myself come close to the edge. I squeal, "Sandor! Wai-" my voice breaks into a moan when he prods his tongue into my entrance to lick up my wetness. The lapping only intensifies, and I tense up even more.

I throw my head back and close my eyes, "S-Sandor, please."

He huffs and hums against my flesh.

With a cry, I come on his tongue and grind my hips against him. I feel him chuckle which just pushes me more over edge. I can feel him drink up all the wetness that comes from my pleasure.

He only stops when my legs begin to twist and shake in overstimulation.

My husband licks and kisses my thighs. The scratch of his beard was somehow comforting against my skin. He emerges between my legs but keeps himself between them as he lies atop me.

I instinctively wrap my arms around him as I catch my breath.

The wetness on his beard keeps the tingle in my belly. He rests his face on my shoulder, "delicious."

I feel myself blush, "Sandor."

"What? You like it when I kiss you there," he says a matter-of-factly, "you finish so quick when I use my tongue."

I scowl, "... that's the point... I shouldn't be doing that."

He lifts his head and raises a brow, "who says?"

"... I saith. You apologize everytime you finish quickly, I-"

"Fucking hell, woman," he sighs and rests his head back down, "that's not the same. I can't peak 10 times. But you can, and I'd love to make you one day."

My heart drops, "t-that's too much."

Sandor kisses my breast, "mmm, I got you to peak 3 times in one night before... what's seven more?"

I gasp at the idea.

He rubs my side and chuckles, "all the gods, old and new, I jest, my lovely wife."

I sigh in relief.

"...although half-hearted. I'd love to make you spill all over my face a thousand times."

"Sandor!" I swat his arm.

He laughs and tightens his arm around me, "you're too innocent to know men kill for this. I'm lucky to have such a dutiful bride."

I brush his hair and shift beneath him into a slightly more comfortable position. He immediately takes this as a sign of discomfort and pushes himself off.

"No!"

"I know," he hushes, "I'm here, love," he rolls over and brings me along with him.

I yelp and adjust once I'm on top him. He chuckles and squeezes me against him before allowing me to laze on top him.

I feel his hardened length on my thigh and gasp at it, "Sandor-"

"Nevermind it. I'll fuck you soon enough."

I chew my lips. This was why I did not want to come so fast. I want him to be pleasured too. I take a breath and decide to straddle his lap. I'm still overstimulated, evident by my shivers. The way Sandor moans and grabs my hips makes me want to power through it though.

He hisses my name out and evens his breathing, "are you trying to test me?"

I mumble weakly, "you can... stay inside..."

He cusses loudly.

"... then I'll move when I'm ready."

He screws his eyes shut and roughly squeezes my thighs, "you want to kill me. You want to fucking kill me, don't you?"

I bite my lip, "n-no, honey... but you know..."

I push him into my pulsing core and make him howl. In slight panic of his loud noise, I cover his mouth. He stares at me, dumb with lust, and pants.

I pull my hands away. I release a breath, "Trysha's sons offered to kill you."

A sliver of sobriety overcomes him.

"If you were cruel... they said they'd help me get free."

The Hound growls and sits up. I whine when I feel him rock his hips slightly, "am I cruel?"

He rubs my sides and kisses me. I make a sound when I taste myself on his lips. He clutches my body tightly. He presses a kiss on my ear, "maybe I should make you come on my cock 4 times."

I moan, "n-no, that's- that's too much."

I whimper when he begins to thrust into me.

"Sandor-"

"We'll see about that."

Sandor pushes me back and lifts one of my legs. He then proceeds to fuck me to prove a point; it brings tears to my eyes, literally. It was a mix of pain and pleasure that grew less and less painful and more and more pleasurable.

When I feel myself get close again, the idea of coming more than this exhausts me. I dig my fingers into his shoulders and beg, "please, please, come inside me. Please finish in me. Please, please-"

"You want my seed so bad, do ya?"

I nod frantically.

"You want me to come, or do you want my come?"

"B-both-- fuck--"

We both peak a few thrusts later. My mind goes numb as heat ripples through me. My shaking body follows after and soon I'm thrashing for respite.

Sandor pushes my thighs up to my sides and rests atop me. He kisses my cheek and licks my sweat.

I call out his name.

He calls out mine.

He kisses my cheek again, "you take me so well."

My eyes water, but out of exhaustion, if anything, "clearly, not well enough, my lord."

Sandor holds his breath.

I feel myself grow a little too hot, "Sandor... I'm too hot. Can you roll off?'

He pushes himself up on his arm and looks down at me, "I didn't mean it like that."

I raise my brows at his response and shake my head, "I'm not upset, darling. I genuinely am," I shimmy away from him, "burning up."

Sandor watches as I pull away.

I whimper as I feel my womanhood throb as some slick trickles out of me. I rest on my side and cross my legs. Sandor looks at me, rolling on his back. He reaches out for my hand and rubs it.

My expression softens, "I'm not upset."

He doesn't respond.

I clutch his hand in both of mine.

"Do you know the rumors of House Inglewood?"

I knit my brows, "no. I do not divulge in gossip, Sandor."

"Didn't think you did, but I know for a fact your blabbermouth wench does."

"Sandor," I say sternly, "stop calling Lucy names."

He tilts his head, "funny. I meant Cressida."

I raise a brow at him, "no, you didn't."

"Mmm," he chuckles, "no, I didn't."

I roll my eyes at him.

He scoots closer and laughs, "well, rumor goes the lord and lady of the house were unhappily arranged and could not conceive an heir... until Lord Inglewood's cousin made a visit."

I make a face, "I don't follow."

"Lord Inglewood has yellow hair, his cousin, red. The boy that was born to Lady Inglewood was a fucking ginger."

I raise my brows. I cannot help but feel sympathy for the lady, knowing how most ladies are treated, "people assume Lady Inglewood had an affair with her husband's cousin because of her son's red hair? They're cousins. They both could have yellow or red haired children."

"His cousin is not his blood relative."

I purse my lips.

"They became cousins when Lord Inglewood's uncle married into a house with a widowed lady."

I make a face and shake my head, "how do you know this? Don't tell me you listened to the maids in the Keep speculate."

"Against my will. They yap about like they're on either sides of a field."

I chuckle the sigh, "I sense you didn't simply want to share this rumor with me."

Sandor brings my hand up to his face, "they think it a wives' tale, but I've heard my fair share of yapping to know it's true. Men can be barren."

I tilt my head at his response.

"What are you going to do if the reason why you can't have a child is me?"

My lips part.

He turns his gaze to my hand. He rubs my knuckles.

My breath catches in my throat. My voice is low, "I... I don't believe it is."

"That's not what I asked, pretty squirrel," he mutters. He turns to me, "would you take another man?"

I am baffled by his question.

"If I was the problem, would you find someone else to father your child?"

I rip my hand out of his and sit up. I wait for him to say something, to retract his accusatory remark, but he doesn't. "You think so little of me," my eyes water, "I thought we were past this?"

Sandor sits up and raises a hand, "recall once when you told me to take another woman. I'm only asking if you would want the same for yourself."

"YOU DID NOT WANT ME!" I blurt and jump off of bed, "I told you to find another because YOU DID NOT want me!"

The Hound looks at me, as though he was wounded. He whispers, "I have always wanted you."

I scoff and begin to dress myself, "I did not know that."

Tears stream down my face as I put on my clothes. I turn from him as he stands and walks up to me. I pull away when he reaches out. He calls out my name cautiously.

"Do not touch me, brute," I hiss as I tighten the ties on my dress with much effort. I feel like I'm suffocating as I secure my clothing.

"You said it yourself," he speaks, dejected, "people remember names, not blood... I will safeguard any child that you b-"

"SILENCE!" I snap and heave. I place my hands on my stomach. I pant through my tears. I feel ill. I feel sorely loathsome.

He stares at me. He looks scared. I feel like retching. In fact, I feel like my morning meal wishes to find its way out through my throat.

The Hound approaches me when my breathing gets too irregular.

I sharply pull away and grab his clothes, throwing it at him in anger. He catches it. I cry, "does my love and affection ring so untrue in your ears that you insult me in the most egregious of ways?"

He can no longer keep his gaze upon me. He looks away and puts on his trousers.

"Do you even truly care for me?"

His head turns. He walks over to me, but I pull away still. The Hound is hurt. His eyes water, "you're the only thing I care about... you know this. Everything else is fuck all."

"Then why would you wish me away?!" I whine, "why would you want me to give myself up to a man I do not love to sate my want for a child?" I cover my mouth as I feel bile rise up my throat.

He calls my name.

"I know you don't care for my sense of duty, but -" gag "- do not mangle my discernment for the sake of dissuading me."

"That's not what I'm doing," Sandor speaks pleadingly, "I only wanted to-"

I feel too sick to listen to him. In the heat of the moment, I find myself running towards the window and hurling out of it. I vomit so much it comes out of my nose. I stare at the disaster that descended on the ground below. I retch at the sight.

I feel him rush over to me. I feel him rub my back.

"Fucking hells. What-"

"I told you not to touch me!" I hiss under my breath and elbow him weakly.

I wipe my mouth as he reels back. I glare at him even though my tears were burning down my cheeks. He looks frantic.

"If you do not believe in my curse, if you do not believe in my journey, if you do not believe in my love, do not twist it into mine own disbelief," I grunt and walk off.

The Hound watches as I begin to pack our things.

"You're right. We should not waste time on frivolity. The sooner we finish this damned trip, the sooner this torment can end for the both of us." I look over my shoulder, "that is, if you still wish to safeguard a woman who may have to bear someone else's child," I scoff coldly.

He does not respond.

I turn and raise my hands questioningly.

"You-" his voice breaks, "-have me til the end, my lady."

I turn away and continue packing.

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the-universal-sun · 3 months ago

Note

On what age range does Stan regress? And also what type of agree gear does be use? Just politely asking as a fren :3

Yes! Thank you friend for the ask! There’s going to be more coming this way because I’ll have entirely too much time on my hands in the next few days! So please enjoy this too!

Can you guys tell what book I apparently really like?

I don’t think there’s a solid age he regresses down to, like consistently, I think it’s around the 2-5 mark, unless something happens or he’s feeling extremely distressed, then he regresses down younger. Which, in that case, means he HAS to have someone take care of him. Which is probably going to be Ford, he’s the only one he can really trust to care for him in the way he needs when he feels that young.

As for gear, it depends.

If Fiddleford is his caregiver (and even though this would be in the early 80s we are going to be anachronistic. This is fiction we can take liberties) then he’s getting at least one pacifier. Fidds probably made it for Stan so he doesn’t mess up his teeth even more, and he probably made it to have a cute little nickname spelled out. I like to think Fidds uses food/southern nicknames for Stanley when regressed, so think something like “Pumpkin” or “Junebug”. He does have his “Poindexter” plush that he’s had since he was 19, but Fidds does win him a really big Duck plush when the fair comes to Gravity Falls. He has some sippy cups because he has a tendency to tilt the cup all the way up and pour his drink all down his face and clothes. He really only has some footie pajamas for when it gets to be winter up there. It’s not easy to come by someone who will custom make clothes in gravity falls, especially nothing like the kind of clothes Stan wants. So he mostly settles for some softer clothing with fun designs and patterns. Nothing vibrant that’ll hurt his eyes. Sweats and grandma sweaters mostly. Fidds makes sure he has a lot of paper and coloring books with as many crayons and markers as he wants. He loves to color and draw. He also has some blocks, a lite brite for when the lights needs to be off so his eyes can rest, play doh, and fighting robots to name a few. He has a few story books that Fidds will read to him. Fidds wants to spoil him, but he knows that he can’t buy Stan everything he wants to, so he does what he can (for now…)

If Ford is his caregiver (we’re doing Grunkle Ford for now) then he is going to do his best to spoil Stan with all he wants as much as possible. From buying stuff online (the internet is marvelous!) to making/inventing it. Ford’s got Stan enough pacifiers stashed around the ship and later shack to have a different one every day. He’s getting Stan sippy cups of all kinds of patterns and designs. it’s easier than cups for him if he’s got dentures since he likes to take those out. He’s got one bottle for the times he’s feeling extra small. He’s got some nice and warm footie pajamas for when they’re in the Arctic, and some lighter ones for more general use-sometimes his brother just needs a lazy day where he can wear what’s basically pajamas. Those kinds of footies are going to be the kind that are animal themed with the ears and tails-Ford thinks they’re so cute. He’s also got some nautical themes pajama sets for the summers spent in Gravity Falls. That’s not even accounting for all the soft handmade sweaters Stan’s got from Mabel that he wears-his favorite having dinos on it-and the soft pants and shorts he feels more comfortable wearing now that his secrets out in the open. I’ve already mentioned Poindexter, that’s a staple for any kind of regressed Stanley, and I mentioned in a few posts Shanklin 2, the stuffed Opposum Ford gets Stan after finding out he’s barely got any Little stuff. He will give Stan all the toys he had back in Jersey and all the toys he’s ever wanted. Legos, blocks, slinkies, playdoh, etch n sketches, fighting robots, hard to break tea sets, coloring books, fancy crayons (This is art, it deserves the best!), anything Stan looks twice at really. He goes a bit overboard, but he’s just trying to make up for all the years he’s missed out on. Also Goodnight Moon, can’t forget that book. That’s Stan’s favorite out of the multitude of books Ford reads to him.

Now if it’s just Stan regressing by himself? He only allows himself the bare minimum. He has Poindexter, an old onesie he allowed himself to buy a few years beforehand, and old and worn pacifier, some crayons, coloring books, blank paper, Ford’s old coat that he likes to wrap around himself when he misses him, a sippy cup, and Goodnight Moon. He feels guilty letting himself indulge. He feels ashamed to be acting like that, a child, to be needing his paci and sippy cup, even in the privacy of his own home, even though he can’t help it. So without anyone there to tell him it’s okay, he doesn’t allow himself to indulge or to spoil himself like he is when he’s being taken care of.

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stormblessed95 · 6 months ago

Note

Hey I have a genuine question for you as a jikook supporter, now that I watched the first eps of are you sure?

I love jikook and I've been a supporter for soo many years now. Never doubted their - for me - obvious romantic relationship.

No one seems to talk about it after watching the first eps of are you sure?, but what do you think about the very beginning of the show, where jikook talk about the fact that they haven't called each other during their solos? That fact really confuses me bc it would kinda invalidate our beliefs that they're in a romantic relationship?

Many many months ago, I some people were believing that they took a break from their relationship or smth. That never sounded plausible for me, until now tbh.

What do you think? Did you see someone talk about that part already? I'm really curious.

Hi! I'm 13 minutes into watching the episode right now. Lmao so I JUST watched the very beginning of the show. Are you talking about when they met up for dinner right after Jimin got there before JKs GMA performance the next day?

Jimin says "it's been a while since I last saw you."

Unless something comes up later about phone calls.... That's not what was said. I will come back to this though if a no phone calls comment comes up past the 13 min mark. Lol but...

Jikook were commenting "I miss you" on weverse to each other after meeting up together with all the members for dinner 2 days prior. And were talking about missing each other and asking Jimin to come over or vice versa on lives right after their trip. So clearly "awhile" for Jikook is not actually a long time. Lol plus during their solo schedules, which were not at the same time, we gotta remember. But they were booked solid and BUSY. They were both recording their albums, practicing choreo, and filming YEARS worth of content in just a few months. They just legitimately barely had time to sleep much less hang out. They were focusing on getting ready to leave and getting all their projects taken care of.

And yet, they still made time to travel together for 3 different weekends because spending that time together was clearly SO IMPORTANT to them

#jikook #kookmin #jungji #minkook #jikook are you sure #jikook travel show

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taleeater · 10 months ago

Text

Fragile Part 6

😈😈😈

(This chapter got too long- I had to cut it short,,,, :]]] Enjoy!)

Generation: Bayverse TMNT

Tmnt x Reader Fanfic

Pronouns: Gender Neutral (except ‘dudette’, 'miss', and ‘princess’)

Warnings: injury, blood, electrocution, graphic depictions of torture, not proof read

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Today you were spending time with Donnie while he worked in front of his monitors. You liked it there much better than in his lab. He had a map of the city up with little marks indicating spots where the Foot had been spotted. But that wasn’t what he was working on right now.

No, you and Donnie were doing much more important things at the moment.

Like playing the new update in Stardew Valley.

“Fishing mods are cheating.”

You gawked at him in mock offense. “But you can’t pause in a multiplayer farm, there’s no time to play the fishing mini game!!”

“That’s why it’s more of a challenge!” He stuck his tongue out while he clicked his mouse rapidly to fight off a slime in the mines.

You pouted, adjusting the laptop in your lap. “I don’t need my cozy farming sim to be challenging…”

Donnie did not miss the cute grin that graced your face after, his heart fluttering in his chest.

These past few days you found yourself smiling more and more easily. Whether it was Mikey getting covered in flour while you baked cookies together, or Raph teaching you how to purl stitch, or Leo showing you how to wield a sword. You were enjoying spending more personal time with the turtles as you got to know them better.

Your toes curled where you were perched in the chair beside Donnie, glancing up at the map again. Your eyes always drawn to the blinking red dot marking the location of the lab you escaped only weeks before. The police had raided it and found it empty, which only increased your unease as to where Dr Stockman might be hiding. It already felt like a lifetime ago, that night when the turtles first found you.

You owed them your life.

“Hey (y/n), you almost ready for afternoon training?” Leo came over, snapping you out of your thoughts. Leo leaned against the back on Donnie’s chair, earning a dismissive swat from his younger brother.

“We’ll stop after we finish up this day, Leo.” Donnie said not even taking his eyes off the screen. You giggled and got back to fishing on the beach.

You were two hours into your training session with Leo.

“Okay, good. Now when you kick, focus on your balance. Stay firmly planted and your leg should have more power.” Leo coached you.

Master Splinter was supervising while sipping his tea. It had barely been 5 days since your mutant abilities had manifested. But you were already making astounding progress in unlocking its potential. Leonardo had played a big part in the process, being the one who had helped you work through your fears of using your mutant reflexes, so the abilities came more easily to you when training. He trained with you every day, while Master Splinter provided guidance. Everyone was doing their best to support you through all the changes.

Casey suddenly jogged in through the entrance of the lair.

“Guys! Just got word, the Foot are planning to rob a warehouse full of high tech weapons tonight. We gotta go intercept it.” He said waving around his cellphone.

“What? Where? Their communication frequency has been quiet since they moved those chemicals to the old Sacks building!” Donnie spun around in his chair to face Casey, you and Leo walking into the living room with Raph and Mikey close behind.

“Queens. Our contact in the Foot Clan leaked the info to us just half an hour ago.”

“Huh, that’s strange. That’s all the way on the other side of town. Aside from Sacks Tower, they’ve only really been active around the East Village and ChinaTown this past week. Maybe they changed their frequency again to throw us off track.” Donnie was quickly typing up info on his keyboard.

“Well, regardless, we better go check it out.” Leo sighed. He wanted to keep training with you, but it would have to wait.

“Heck yeah! I’m bringin’ the steak-out snacks. Who wants Doritos?” Mikey grabbed his ratty old Jansport backpack and started shoving cans of Orange Crush into it.

“(Y/n), you stay here and keep an eye on Donnie’s computer. The Foot might try to communicate about their raid tonight. Donnie’s program will intercept it. April will be here in about an hour, so just tell her if anything suspicious comes up.” Leo asked you.

“Right!” You said standing to attention and giving a military salute with a silly little grin on your face.

It made Leo’s heart melt in his chest and his expression turned soft.

“Just, stay safe, okay?” He patted you on the head then headed for the exit.

As the rest of the boys filed out of the lair, they each stopped by you. Mikey getting a high five, you quickly cleaned Donnie’s glasses for him, and Raph, always last, ducked down for a quick hug when his brothers weren’t looking. Casey rushed ahead of them.

Master Splinter waved goodbye to his sons next to you. Once the boys had left, he informed you he was going to go meditate, and to come find him if you needed anything.

About 45 minutes later, you were casually watching YouTube videos on Donnie’s computer when a flashing red light appeared on the screen. It was indicating that Donnie’s program was intercepting a message from the Foot’s closed communication server. A message popped up on the screen, and you gasped.

“We have captured the turtles. Continue with the plan.”

Then a video feed loaded up on the main screen.

Your blood ran cold.

It looked like the feed from a security camera, depicting Leo, Mikey, and Donnie all locked in glass cages, restrained with thin tubes of red connected to their arms. They looked weak, they looked bad.

“What….? No… No, not this… please no…!”

Where was Raphael? He was nowhere to be seen. How did they get captured so fast…? They had barely been gone an hour!

Your mind was racing. You recognized those machines. Dr Stockman used them to take blood samples from Bebop and Rocksteady. If that was the case, there was no time to lose.

You made up your mind.

You snuck past the dojo and muttered a quick apology to Master Splinter. You knew Master Splinter wouldn’t let you go, so you kept quiet. Then you grabbed the handheld GPS device Donnie left on his work table. You entered the location on the map where the message was sent from.

The old Sacks Tower.

Time to move.

April arrived at the lair much later than expected. She and Casey had just finished speaking to the commissioner about police activities being leaked to the Foot. When they entered the living room, they were confused to only see Master Splinter waiting for them. The old rat was pacing and anxiously stroking his beard.

“Splinter? Where’s (y/n)?” April asked, confused.

Splinter shook his head.

“You don’t know where they are?” April became concerned, walking further into the lair.

“It appears, that our greatest fears have been realized.” His expression deeply troubled. Before April could ask, she noticed what Splinter was looking at.

Playing in a loop on Donatello’s monitor was old CCTV footage from when the turtles had been captured 10 years ago by Shredder and Mr Sacks. April breathed a sigh of relief, immediately recognizing the scene.

“Splinter, the turtles are safe. I spoke to Leo on the phone only 10 minutes ago. They’re staking out a warehouse in Queens. This is old footage.”

Splinter’s eyes widened and looked back to the screen. His expression turned contemplative.

“If that is so, then perhaps Miss (y/n) has made the same mistake.” He spoke gravely.

April had a look of shock. She quickly pulled out her phone and speed dialed Leo’s number.

Leo thankfully answered quickly. “Hey April, anything new?”

“Leo, is (y/n) with you?”

Leo paused a long moment and sent a look over to his brothers, getting their attention. “No…. Aren’t they at the lair?” All of his brother's eyes were suddenly on him. Leo turned the phone on speaker.

“No!! They’re gone. And there’s a video playing on Donnie’s computer. It’s a recording of you Mikey and Donnie locked up at Sacks’ estate from over 10 years ago… I think this is what (y/n) saw before they left.”

“They left?” Leo felt his heart drop into his stomach. “To go where, Sacks’ estate?” His brothers immediately started packing up their stakeout equipment to leave.

“No I don’t think so, the sender’s location was tracked, it’s still on the screen. It says it was sent from Sack Tower in Times Square.”

Donnie came over and joined in the call, typing furiously at the keyboard on his wrist. “Sacks Tower. That’s where they were spotted smuggling those stolen chemicals into the other day…! From my notifications, it appears that the message was sent through an older Foot Clan communication frequency approximately 43 minutes ago.”

“Donnie, how long will it take (y/n) to get to Sacks Tower.”

“From my calculations, if (y/n) left the lair heading to the Sacks building about 40 minutes ago, going by subway, they should arrive in about uhhh, approximately 8 minutes.”

“And how long will it take us to get there.” Raph asked.

“From where we are now, if we manage to hitch a ride on the next nonstop train to Times Square…… about 1 and a half hours.”

“Shit!”

Raph cursed loudly and turned away frustrated, and Mikey put his hands on his head. Donnie was typing away at the keypad on his arm, trying to find any kind of faster route and muttering about how stupid he was for not making you a shellcell.

“We don’t have a minute to waste. Let’s move out.”

That’s all they needed to hear. Everyone sprung into action and booked it for the closest subway station manhole cover.

“April, we are headed to Sacks Tower as fast as we can. And get ahold of the police commissioner again. Whoever gave us the information to come to this warehouse tonight was intentionally planted with misinformation. There was no sign of the Foot at the warehouse. …..It was most likely a diversion.”

“Right. I’ll get back to you soon.”

Leo hung up the phone and jumped off the apartment building and dove down towards the street’s manhole cover.

Leo grit his teeth.

“Hold on (y/n).”

The halls of the building were eerily empty. This place made your skin crawl. The laboratory felt all too similar to the one you had been trapped in before. But this one had clearly been abandoned for a long time. Broken glass, graffiti, turned over chairs, scattered paper. But strangely the power was still on. You didn’t dare try to use the elevator in fear of giving away your position. But you were confused as to why you had yet to see any guards. This is where the message was sent from, the turtles had to be here, right?

You climbed the steps to another floor, but paused as you creaked open the door exiting the stairwell. This floor felt like a world apart from the previous ones. It was clean.

And the lights were on.

You kept low, and hyper vigilant. Steadying your breathing like Leo had taught you, you crept into the sterile white hallway. There were glass windows along the hall looking into different labs. One held chemistry equipment, another held big bulky medical equipment that clicked and beeped. Finally, the last room at the end of the hall, a room with no windows. You had a sinking feeling in your gut, but still you crept towards the door. Slowly and quietly you pulled open the heavy door, and revealed a large lit room with a high ceiling, and there you saw it.

“Guys….!”

There along the back wall were 4 glass boxes with 3 of the turtles strung up and being drained of blood. You had found them! Seeing no one else in the room, you rushed in.

“I’m going to get you out of here, just you wait!” You went to the first machine in front of Donnie and reached out to touch the screen-

Your hand passed right through.

“What…?” You tried to touch it again but there was nothing there.

The hologram distorted, and then the turtles disappeared. You gasped.

It was a trap.

You turned around to book it towards the exit, but the door was opening again. Bebop and Rocksteady squeezed through the small door one at a time, and blocked your exit. Then over an intercom you heard the familiar laugh that sent a shiver down your spine.

Stockman chuckled darkly. “Just how I planned it! Like catching a fly with honey. So predictable!”

You backed up slowly as Bebop and Rocksteady approached you.

“Did you miss us, little kitty?” Rocksteady sneered.

The intercom buzzed as Stockman spoke again. “Bebop, Rocksteady, keep them occupied until I arrive. I will be there momentarily. And let’s not have a repeat of last time, please!” There was a clicking sound and the intercom went quiet.

Bebop chuckled. “Hell yeah! It’s been so long since we last played! Let’s make the most of it.”

“That’s right! And we gotta pay you back for all the trouble you caused us! We missed you so much after you left. You wanna go first Beebs?”

“My man!” Bebop smiled at Rocksteady and clasped his hand, they both laughed.

You tried your best to steady your breathing like Leo taught you. Your hands were trembling. But you needed a way out. Bebop and Rocksteady were not fast, if you timed it right, maybe you can get past them to the door.

Bebop approached you. You stayed still and waited. Then when he got close enough, you ran right towards him, surprising Bebop. He reached out to grab you but you slid right between his legs, then jumped up behind him and tried to run past Rocksteady before he could react. He was still too close to you and managed to grab you from behind, but you were ready for him. Just like in training, you reached up and grabbed him around his neck, and taking a deep breath, you threw all your strength forward and down and managed to flip Rocksteady onto his back- stunning him. You quickly jumped over him and ran for the door, slamming into it fast and wretched the handle to pull it open.

Locked. (Warning for graphic depictions of torture ahead.)

“No…!” You felt a bruising grip close around your arm, and you were torn away from the door. “NO!!” You cried out as you were thrown hard onto the floor between the two oversized mutants.

“See? Now that’s your problem. You gotta go makin’ our job harder than it needs to be!” Bebop complained.

Rocksteady was picking himself back up, rubbing the back of his head tenderly. “Don’t let them get to ya Beebs, we’ll sort them out quick before Stockman gets here.” Bebop then reached into his pocket and pulled out an all too familiar black taser.

Rocksteady took the taser and chuckled. “Little kitty needs a check-up!”

You tried to get up and run, but Rocksteady stomped down hard on your left arm. There was a sickening snap and you screamed, writhing in pain. You were pinned.

“Tsk, tsk. You know what happens when kitty gets naughty!” The taser was flicked on, all you could do was close your eyes before a strong surge of electricity was shot into your ribcage and throughout your body. You convulsed as the shocks seized you, your shoulder getting dislocated from the spasms, then collapsed back on the floor.

“Just like good ol’ times!” Rocksteady passed the taser to Bebop.

Rocksteady laughed and removed his foot from your arm, then Bebop tased you in the ribs again. You yelped and rolled onto your stomach, tucking your very broken arm underneath you and tried to crawl away.

“Hey, where ya goin? We’re just getting STARTED!” Rocksteady punctuated his sentence by kicking you in the stomach hard enough to throw you across the room. You hit the ground and your body rolled another few feet until you stopped on your side and curled in on yourself, the air knocked out of your lungs.

Bebop took his time strolling over to you, and grabbed you by the hair to lift you up. You coughed and gasped for air, grabbing at his hand and tried to pry his fingers off of his grip.

“Think you can just up and leave whenever you want, do ya?” He growled in your ear, then dropped you down haphazardly to the floor. You were on your knees, buckled forward and holding your left shoulder, when suddenly Bebop’s foot stomped down on your right ankle and you heard a loud crunch.

You shrieked.

Exhausted and riddled with unbearable pain, you crippled to the floor. It took everything you had just to pull breath.

“Alright, I’m back! How is our lovely patient doing?” Came the cheerful sing-song voice of Dr Stockman entering the room through the locked door, Karai tailing behind him.

“Hey boss! Uhhh, we were just warming them up for ya! See? They can’t run away no more.” Bebop nudged your side with his foot, knocking you onto your side so Stockman could see the pain riddled on your face. You were barely conscious by this point.

“Excellent! Bring them to me.” Stockman ordered.

Bebop picked you up by your good arm and carried you over to where Dr Stockman was walking to in the back of the room. Karai stepped in Bebop’s way for a moment, taking in your beaten appearance, and back-handed your face hard for good measure, leaving a shiny bruise and angry red gash across your cheek. That woke you up a bit.

Just enough to retaliate.

You took a deep breath and tore your arm out of Bebop’s grasp and punched Karai in the stomach, hard enough to throw her into a large display screen next to where Stockman was standing. Stockman squawked in surprise. She rolled onto the floor, and pushed herself up onto her side. Spitting a bit of blood onto the ground and wiping away at her lip.

You tried to stand on your good leg but you were too weak and collapsed back to the floor. Bebop and Rocksteady grabbed you by each of your arms and brought you in front of Stockman.

He was looking at you in awe, and reached out tentatively to swipe at the blood on your cheek. He rushed over to his desk, jumping a bit in excitement. He put a drop of your blood onto a slide, and observed it under his microscope.

“Ha…! HA HA…! YES!!” Stockman shouted in excitement and did a little dance. Bebop and Rocksteady exchanged a confused look and Karai stood up and walked over to Stockman, eyeing you angrily and rolling her shoulder.

“What does this mean?” She questioned him.

“It means that the mutation was a SUCCESS!!! Those stupid turtles must have triggered it somehow. And now we can finally proceed with the plan!!!” He grabbed something off his desk and skipped over to the stairs leading up to the circular titanium base in the middle of the room. “Bring them here!!” He called over, waving his hand to Bebop and Rocksteady.

They dragged you over to Stockman, and were deposited on the round podium that sat under a large glass tube. Stockman started to pull down long rubber tubes from above, and attached large thick needles to the ends. You tried once again to crawl away with your good arm, as Bebop and Rocksteady retreated.

But Stockman approached you from behind. In a quick jab, he stabbed the two needled tubes deep into your back. You grunted and groaned in pain, but could do nothing, collapsing on the podium. Beaten, bruised, and bleeding.

When Dr Stockman was finished, he descended the stairs and rushed over to his computer, giggling excitedly he typed in a command and the glass tube descended over you until it clicked into place at the sturdy titanium base. Locking you inside.

“They’ll be placed in suspended animation. Once the tank is completely filled with the preservation fluid, they’ll become nothing more than a convenient blood bag, supplying an endless supply of mutagen for our mutant army.” Stockman rubbed his hands together evilly.

“And what about the turtles?” Karai asked.

“It is already too late for them to stop us. Even if they manage to get through your guards, they will be unable to free them from this tank. Once I start the filtration process, I will delete the programmed command to empty or release the containment cylinder. They won’t be able to free them without my help!” Stockman typed away quickly at his computer.

One of the tubes connected to your back began to pull blood from your body, leading up through a small opening in the top of the cylinder then down into a canister at the base. Then from the second tube, a white milky substance full of liquid nutrients began to filter through and down into your body. It did nothing to numb the pain you felt as you laid there in a state of half consciousness.

Suddenly, the loud banging of gunshots could be heard somewhere outside the door.

“We’re not ready yet! Hold them back!” Stockman ordered Bebop and Rocksteady, who positioned themselves between Stockman and the door.

The door suddenly blew wide open, and the four turtles rushed into the room, angry and weapons at the ready.

“Where’s (y/n).”

Part 7

@itsberrydreemurstuff @thecreat0r64 @eli-chris @kurlyfrasier @autisticnutcase @drenix004 @donniesgirlie @cherryp-op @foggyturtleknightangel @blackrockshooter780 @l-n-g-t @peachesdabunny @silverwatergalaxy @willy-the-witch @caeliasaida @veri-varily @xnorthstar3x

If anyone else wants to be tagged for the next update, let me know in the comments! :]

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durrtydawg · 1 month ago

Text

The Sadir Inheritance

{Sam Drake x F!Reader} Chapter 9 | 'Scotty's Archival Finds'

i would like him to put his [redacted] in my [redacted]

masterlist ✨

Other chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Things had to ramp up sooner or later.

Word count: 5.3k-ish x

Sam wakes with a start, unsure at first what’s roused him until the faint sound of someone jumping into the pool outside filters through the window. His body feels stiff, his head heavy, and for a moment, he wonders why he didn’t wake up in his own bed. Then he glances down.

She’s still asleep, curled into his side, her head resting on his shoulder. Her hand - scrunched, and clinging to the edge of his vest - holds him in place as much as her weight does. He tries not to move too much, to keep the moment intact, but his chest tightens, his breathing shallow.

He looks at her for a moment. There’s a faint crease across her cheek, probably from her bracelet, and a strand of hair sticks awkwardly to her lip - but somehow that makes it worse. The imperfection.

This feels weird, doesn’t it? Inappropriate? He shifts slightly, testing how much freedom he has without waking her. Not much. But he doesn’t mind, really. That’s the problem.

His eyes drift down to her hand, resting against his chest. There’s a faint smudge of green ink near her knuckles, and it takes him a second to place it: the chewed-up pen she insists on using, despite all evidence that it’s a disaster waiting to happen. A soft huff escapes him, barely audible.

Without thinking, his fingers twitch, almost moving toward the mark, as if to brush it away or trace it. He stops himself just in time. What the hell is he doing?

A series of horrendously loud knocks distracts Sam instantly. He jolts upright, violently shunting her off of him, the ledger sliding off his lap and hitting the floor with a muted thud. His brain scrambles to catch up, heart already pounding like a starter pistol’s gone off.

“What happened?” she blurts, sitting up next to him. Her hair’s a mess, sticking out at odd angles, and the crease on her cheek is more pronounced now that the light hits it. There’s something faintly dazed in her expression, and for some reason, it guts him in a way he can’t explain. It’s stupidly endearing.

He twists, grabbing his phone off the nightstand, screen lighting up as if on cue. “Ah, shit.”

“Scott?” she whispers, scrambling for her own phone that’s gotten lost somewhere in the sheets.

Sure enough, there it is - missed calls. Plural. He glances sideways at her screen. Same thing. “Guy’s persistent,” he mutters, rubbing his neck. God, they were out for almost three hours.

The knock comes again, harder this time. The kind that practically demands the door be ripped off its hinges. They both look at the door, then at each other.

“Hang on,” she calls groggily after a tut, already pushing herself upright.

Sam scrubs a hand over his face, groaning as the last remnants of sleep vanish. His eyes drop to the ledger, now sprawled open on the floor, pages creased. Three hours. He checks the time on his phone. They’d burned three hours chasing connections that still didn’t quite fit, only to end up here. He should be grateful. This is probably the longest consecutive string of hours he’s spent knocked out in… decades, perhaps.

She stumbles toward the door, running a hand through her hair, tugging at the hem of her shorts. Sam doesn’t mean to look, but his eyes catch anyway - her messy hair, the sleep-soft slump of her shoulders, the way the late afternoon light frames her.

She glances back at him, one eyebrow raised, and her lips curve into something faintly teasing. “You gonna get up too, or are you planning to sit there all day?”

Sam snorts, leaning back into the headboard. “Nah, you’ve got it covered, sweetheart. You’re very intimidating for someone half-asleep.”

The laugh she lets out is soft and fleeting, but it punches straight through him. He clenches his jaw, forcing himself to look away, to shove the feeling back down where it belongs.

Jesus.

He takes a swig from his water bottle, hoping the cold will wake him up properly, or at least distract him. It doesn’t work. Not entirely. There’s something about seeing her like this - unguarded, maybe - that lodges itself somewhere rather uncomfortably.

She opens the door. The moment’s gone, perhaps not a second too soon.

Scott. Rejoice! Sam watches him barrel in like he owns the place, flushed and wild-eyed, sweat slicking his brow.

“Finally,” he snaps, brushing past her without so much as a hello, leaving her frowning and slightly startled. “Christ almighty, you have no idea the hoops I just jumped through to get back here, then Sam wouldn’t answer his-” He freezes, his eyes flicking between them as he clocks she’s not alone.

She glances back at him as he gets off of the bed, her expression tight - a little coy, perhaps - before pushing the door shut. Right. Focus.

Sam’s leaning casually against the bathroom door now, arms crossed, looking just disheveled enough to give the younger man ideas. He can see the flicker of something in Scott’s expression - perhaps accusatory - but it’s gone almost as quickly as it comes.

Sam raises a brow, lips twitching. “Somethin’ happen?”

“Yeah, something happened,” Scott bites, pacing the room like a caged animal. “I was followed.”

The words drop like a brick. Sam straightens, all the humour draining from his face. He flicks a glance at her. Eyes wide, the sleepiness gone in an instant.

“Followed? Like… chased?” she echoes, stepping toward Scott. “By who?”

“I don’t know!” Scott rakes a hand through his hair, his movements jerky - the most unhinged Sam’s ever seen him. “It wasn’t some… high speed chase or anything, but he was definitely following me. Tall guy. Caucasian, I think. Dark clothes. Baseball cap. Real generic, Joe Goldberg type shit - but he was on me from the archive all the way to the rental. I had to ditch the car and take a cab just to make sure I lost him.”

Sam exhales through his nose, jaw tightening despite his desire to question who on earth Joe Goldberg is. “That’s the second one.”

Scott stops mid-pace, blinking. “Second?”

Sam nods slowly, his brows drawn stiffly together. “That guy I was speakin’ to this morning? Same deal - blending in, but not really. Too interested in what we were doing. Loitering around too many times for it to be a coincidence, you know? Balcony out there, then back in Petra, and at the cafe earlier.”

“Same guy?” she asks, glancing between them.

“Doubt it,” Sam mutters, scratching his chin. “Why tail Scott but leave me alone?”

She folds her arms, frowning. “So what? We’ve got two people watching us all of a sudden?”

Scott shrugs, helpless and visibly rattled. "Maybe? Or… maybe this has nothing to do with us. Could just be bad luck, right? Wrong place, wrong time." His eyes snap to Sam, brows pinched, practically begging for reassurance.

Sam blinks, straightening his posture on instinct. He feels the corners of his mouth twitch - amused despite himself. Scott looking to him for answers? Now that’s rich.

His jaw tightens as he leans casually against the desk, tapping a finger against the edge. Stay cool. Don’t gloat. But God, is this… a little satisfying. The guy who always has the answers, cracking just a little. Sam has to bite his lip just to hide the faint smirk pulling at them.

He glances sideways, just enough to catch her in his peripheral. Is she noticing this? Impressed, maybe?

But then the smugness dulls, replaced by a quiet unease coiling low in his gut. Panic, faint but - yep - most certainly present. Wrong place, wrong time? Yeah, right. This feels like a storm brewing.

“Makes no sense,” he mutters. “Nobody knows about the inheritance, not really. And even if they did, it’s hardly like we’ve been broadcasting our every move. So how the hell do they know to follow us?”

Scott’s pacing again, practically wearing a trench into the carpet. “Maybe they’re just covering their bases. Long game. We don’t even know what we’re looking for, so how can they?”

Sam grits his teeth, his thoughts racing. He doesn’t like this - not the timing, not the fact that they’ve potentially been spotted, and definitely not the creeping paranoia tightening in his chest. If they were dealing with professionals, it’d only be a matter of time before someone made a move.

“Doesn’t track,” he mutters, barely realising he’s spoken aloud.

“What doesn’t?” she presses, her voice sharper now.

“All of it,” he says, gesturing vaguely. “Whoever these people are, they’re not amateurs. And yet, here we are. No threats. No demands. Just... watchers. What are they waiting for?”

The room falls quiet. Sam doesn’t have the answers and the air feels thick.

Scott sighs, dragging a hand down his face. “Well… whatever’s going on, at least we’ve got nothing worth stealing yet.” His tone’s laced with frustration, but there’s a sideways glance - like he’s still trying to convince himself they’re still fine.

Sam stiffens, the words hitting him wrong. Nothing worth stealing. Whoops. His sight flicks over to where she’s sat herself on the edge of the bed, catching her eyes. It’s brief. Just enough time for a little flash of recognition passing between them. They’re very much on the same page. Whatever he’s feeling - guilt, maybe - it must’ve flashed across his face, because Scott’s suddenly on it like a hawk.

“Wait a second,” Scott says slowly, his head tilting, eyes narrowing like he’s just spotted a tell in a poker game. Fitting. “What was that? You two just did a thing. Don’t tell me you’re holding out on me.”

He leans forward slightly, pacing like he’s warming up for an argument. Sam straightens but doesn’t respond right away, letting them mull in the silence. She shifts uneasily, and there’s this flicker of hesitation before she moves, almost like she’s asking him permission. It’s subtle - a glance, nothing more - but he clocks it anyway.

Gets another weird kick out of it, too.

She bends to grab the ledger off the floor, the movement snapping him out of his head. Straightens up and holds it out toward Scott, her grip tight.

“Found this,” she says, voice reluctant.

Scott takes the book without a word, his expression unreadable as he flips through the pages, flopping himself onto the chair by the vanity. Sam watches his eyes dart across the handwriting - scrawled notes, messy numbers, dates - and catches her biting her thumb again.

Scott’s hand drags across his forehead as the cogs turn.

“It’s a gambling log,” she says, voice softer this time, like the words might be weaselled out by the wrong ears if spoken too loudly. Scott exhales sharply, closing the ledger and leaning back in the chair.

"Where’d you get it?" Scott’s eyes shift up to Sam, eyes narrowed.

He shakes his head, jerking a thumb toward her. "I didn’t. It was her."

Scott’s eyebrows lift. "Oh. Where’d you find it? Market?"

Her shoulders stiffen, and she crosses her arms, already bracing for what’s coming. "I… found it in Umm ar-Rasas the other night."

Scott freezes mid-breath, incredulous. "Hang on - two days ago? And neither of you thought to tell me?!"

Sam shrugs. "Hey, she only just showed me, too."

Scott exhales sharply, his tone dropping. "Shit. Why’d you hide it?"

She huffs, rubbing at her face, the weariness of the past few days etched into her movements. "I was going to show you - both of you - as soon as I found something concrete."

Sam clocks the quick flick of Scott’s eyes toward him, and he shrugs again, palms up. Not my circus, not my monkeys.

Scott leans forward slightly, his voice laced with a mix of exasperation and something just shy of condescension. "What, is an old book you found in the middle of nowhere, still intact, not concrete enough for you, darl’?"

Her arms tighten across her chest. "Oh, for-“ She rolls her eyes, a sarcastic laugh practically dripping out of her mouth. "Another instalment of What Would Saint Scott Do? Lucky us."

Sam presses his lips together, hiding a smirk. It’s kind of funny, seeing her give as good as she gets, but he knows where this is heading.

Scott’s jaw tightens, his face darkening. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

She doesn’t even flinch. "You’ve got opinions about everything, don’t you? Like you’ve never kept anything back for a second."

And there it is. Sam straightens up slightly, bracing for impact. He’d seen enough spats in his life to know when one was about to hit full throttle.

Scott’s voice sharpens, cutting through the room like a blade. "Don’t be ridiculous. If it were me, I’d’ve been eager to share. This isn’t just your damn treasure hunt, you know."

She raises her eyebrows, letting out a sharp laugh. "Oh, is that right? Well, since we’re in a sharing mood-“ Her eyes lock onto him, the shift in tone catching Sam off guard. "Why don’t you tell me why you had my wrist gripped so tight after I passed out the other day, huh?"

Scott blinks, caught mid-step. This buys Sam’s attention almost instantly. "What the hell are you on about?" he asks, glancing between her and Sam.

She leans forward slightly, jabbing a finger in his direction. "You heard me. When I woke up, your hand was clamped around me like a vice. Bruise has only just gone. Care to explain that?"

He swallows, his jaw working like he’s chewing through words he can’t quite spit out.

Sam watches with intrigue as Scott exhales sharply, throwing his hands up. "Seriously? You smack your head on the ground, conk yourself out, and bleed all over the place, and now you’re pissed I was checking your bloody pulse? Next time, I’ll just leave you there, shall I?"

Sam sighs, stepping forward before this thing spirals any further. "All right, enough. Both of you. I’m too tired for this shit."

The room falls quiet, Scott backing off first, though his expression stays hard. "I’m sorry. I’m on edge. Getting followed through alleyways doesn’t exactly leave you in a good mood."

She exhales through her nose, still tense, but her voice softens slightly. "Fine." Then, as if on autopilot, she adds, "Sorry for snapping."

Sam watches her for a second longer, his gut twisting uncomfortably. The way she’d brought up Scott holding her wrist - she’d been sitting on that one for a while. And Scott… well, he wasn’t sure if that defensiveness was guilt or chase-fuelled exasperation. Either way, it’s kinda nice to see him rattled for a change.

"Right," Sam says finally, a clap cutting the awkward air in two. "Now that we’re all friends again, Scott - why don’t we get you up to speed, huh?”

“I’m all ears.” He says with a tight smile, like he’s trying to pretend the last minute didn’t happen.

She nods at Sam, walking over to Scott, reopening the book, chewing at her lip. She clears her throat.

“Emaan was hosting games in the crypt. Right where Sam found those cards.”

“Mhm,” he hums, thumbing the fragile pages.

Sam crosses his arms, his voice cutting in. “And the stakes weren’t just cash.”

Scott’s head snaps up, his grip tightening on the book. “What kind of stakes?”

“Things of value,” she replies, her arms crossing over her chest again as she leans back against the wall. “Huge sums of money, land… Some of it I can’t even make out. Toward the end, it gets messy. A page or two ripped out, even.”

Scott’s face hardens, his thumb brushing over the spine like he’s trying to squeeze answers out of the damn thing. “You think this is what they’re after? Those guys? This... book?”

Sam shrugs one shoulder, but there’s a knot in his gut that won’t loosen. “It’s a start,” he says, his tone flat. “If they know about it, they’re already ahead of us. But it’s not exactly a big bag full’a gold, is it?”

His words settle over the room all foggy. Sam glances at her again - arms hugging herself now, gaze fixed on Scott. She’s tense. He can feel it, even across the room.

“So,” he says, voice low, measured. “Not worth stealing, huh?”

Sam doesn’t answer. Doesn’t need to. The tension in his shoulders speaks loud enough. Instead, he watches Scott stare at the book like it might open a black hole right there in the room.

“Looks like we’ve got more to worry about than we thought.” Scott mutters.

Sam flicks back to her, and for a split second, their unease mirrors each other’s. The same question’s tugging at all three of them: What the hell kind of game are they playing? And more importantly - who else is holding the damn cards?

They’ve been sitting stagnant for too long - they need something good, and soon.

“Does any of this match up with what you found?” He asks, folding his arms over his chest, squeezing a little anxiously at his bicep.

Scott slumps back in his chair, looking like everything that’s transpired today has finally pinned him down. “I think so.” He rubs his temples, a heavy sigh dragging out of him. "Hey, look, why don’t we step out? Go over all this somewhere a little more relaxed. I could use a stiff drink and a proper meal.” He looks between the two of them with a hopeful smile.

Sam raises an eyebrow but keeps his tone casual. “You think that, given the fact you’ve just been chased down several miles, playing detective in public is a good idea?”

Scott shrugs, “You said your guy was loitering around here, too right?”

Sam sighs. Then nods. Fair play.

“Right, and she’s got cabin fever, so-”

“She is fine,” Sam has to bite back a smirk as she cuts Scott off, leaving him putting up his palms in mock defence. “But if a stiff drink is involved, count me in.”

Scott’s already pushing out of his chair. The boy’s restless. “There’s a decent spot just a block over. Quiet. Give me ten to shower, then I’ll meet you out front.”

After a quick nod, he up and leaves.

Sam stays leant against the wall, fingers tapping against his forearm as his eyes flick over to the ledger Scott's dumped on the dressing table. Then to her. And her damn thumbnail back between her teeth yet again.

The room feels like it’s been doused in a cocktail of sweaty, stale tension. He frowns.

“You all right?”

She startles, blinking up at him like he’s yanked her out of a deep spiral. “How could I not be?” Her smile flickers to life, quick and bright, and his stomach twists because it’s very much false. “Got my knight in shining Hawaiian shirt here, haven’t I?”

It’s almost convincing - the quip, the smile - but something about her feels… dulled, still. Her usual fire is there, just buried under too much. She’s good at hiding it, sure. Just not from him.

He doesn’t push. There’s been enough drama for one afternoon.

Sam huffs a laugh, shaking his head as he adjusts his collar. “Yeah, screams 'chivalrous', doesn't it?” He smirks, trying to sell the joke, but inside, her words cloy enough to make eye contact a slight challenge.

Instead, he stands, stretching out his back and forcing a grin onto his face. But his mind’s already racing. If Scott’s holding something back - and Sam’s gut says he is - then maybe a drink or two will crack him open.

If there really are people hot on their trail, they don’t have the luxury of patience, and he hopes that whatever information Scott was able to dig up is enough of a catalyst for this old book to mean something.

“Gonna head back next door,” he says after a beat. “Wake myself up.”

She nods, dragging herself off the edge of the bed. “Yeah. I’ve got ‘sleep mouth’.”

Sam’s lips twitch - of course she’d call it that. He watches as she rubs her eyes and heads to the bathroom, muttering about toothpaste. His eyes hold for a second too long, clocking the tenseness of her shoulders.

He can't let her worry any more than she has to.

Before he leaves, he pauses in the doorway. “Hey,” he says, waiting until she glances up. His eyes narrow as if to hold her attention tight. “We’re good.”

His tone is steady, grounded, and for a moment, he sees the shadow of a real smile flicker back to life. She nods. That’ll have to do for now.

The restaurant is dimly lit. Rustic. Traditional, with the type of charm that, if it were back in London, would’ve made it an influencer hotspot - a sharp contrast to the sterile monotony of your hotel room.

You slide into a rounded booth, the soft hum of conversation and clinking glasses filling the space, making you feel oddly at ease. Sam scoots in beside you, his knee brushing yours as he adjusts the collar again. It’s an absentminded gesture, but regardless, it sends a warm prickle up your spine. You remind yourself that you must get your shit together.

Scott takes the opposite side, already scanning the drink menu as if it’s a new lead. His fingers drum lightly against the table’s edge, restless, like his mind’s running three steps ahead.

He leans back, gesturing toward the waiter. He asks for something in Arabic - smooth and confident as usual - then turns to you with a faint smile. “Are you good with whiskey?”

You nod, managing a small smile back. It feels stiff, the earlier spat between the two of you still clinging.

Sam chuckles, breaking the awkwardness. “Didn’t peg you for a whiskey guy.”

Scott smirks, leaning back against the booth. “Necessary when you’ve had a day like today. Think we all have a few anxieties to drown out, ey?” He raises a brow at you. The words sound friendly, but there’s an edge to them - a pointedness that makes your stomach twist. So he's still not over it - picking at the scab. Fine.

The drinks arrive quickly, the waiter setting down three glasses. Scott takes a long sip, exhaling sharply as he sets his glass down with a thunk.

“I won’t keep you in suspense any longer. Let’s get to it. Scotty's archival finds.”

“Lay it on us.” Sam leans forward, resting his forearms on the table, hands clasped together.

You nod, clutching your glass, the cool condensation a welcome distraction against your fingertips.

Scott pulls a notebook from his bag, flipping it open. “So, so far we’ve got,” he starts, glancing at you, then over your shoulder to Sam before returning to his notes, “Emaan’s letter. Gambling. Winning or losing big - potentially losing the entire inheritance. Yes?”

You exchange a look with Sam, who shrugs and nods. “Sounds about right,” he says, leaning back against the booth, dragging his glass with him.

"And our ongoing questions include…" he peruses his notes again, "One: what actually is the Sadir Inheritance,"

“Mhm.” You hum, taking a sip. It's vile. People drink this for fun? Masochists.

You make an odd hiss-cough hybrid sound that draws a snort out of Sam, who takes it upon himself to pull you back by the shoulder to give himself the pleasure of seeing your screwed up face.

Scott continues speaking as you silently slide your glass over to Sam, grimacing as he pours your share into his own glass. You mouth a 'disgusting' at him, to which he responds by jabbing his elbow into your arm.

"and two: seeing as Petra was a bust, where can we find it?”

You wish away the aftertaste and focus. Nods all round.

“Well, I’ve got potential routes to explore for the latter right…” Scott fans his notes out in front of the three of you. “...Here. Emaan's connection to British aristocrats and… a lady called Layla.”

The name hits you like a slap to the back of the head. Your breath hitches, a dull thrumming beginning at the base of your skull. Again. Brilliant. Could we not?

Suffice to say, the returning feeling is both concerning and really starting to piss you off.

Scott notices your reaction and pauses, brow furrowing. “You okay?”

You nod quickly, waving it off even as the tightness lingers in your chest. “Yeah. Sorry, just… go on. Layla.” Your mouth feels tight when you say the name - the dreadful sensation you get right as your body is preparing to throw up.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Sam frowning, his eyes sharp and searching. You pretend not to notice, forcing your attention onto Scott’s notes.

“Layla Bashar was Emaan’s… partner? Girlfriend? Lover, whatever you want to call it.” Scott leans forward, his voice dropping like he’s letting you both in on a secret. “They couldn’t marry. Lower class, a scandal waiting to happen, etcetera, etcetera, so they kept it a secret.”

The waiter returns, setting down a plate of warm flatbread between the three of you. You barely glance at him when you nod in thanks, your thoughts snagged on Scott’s revelation. Without thinking, you grab a piece, tearing off a corner and chewing rapidly.

Sam’s frown deepens, scepticism etched deeply. “So you think she got her hands on it?”

Scott shrugs, his expression oddly nonchalant. “Well, she died, so-”

“She died?” you cut in sharply, leaning forward with your mouth half full, hand curling round the nape of your neck to subtly attempt to massage the persistent ache away. “So is that a yes or a no?”

Scott lifts a hand to temper your interruption. That action alone makes you grit your teeth. “She died in childbirth. About twenty-two years or so before Emaan’s death. So… no.”

Sam straightens, his brow furrowed. “Woah, hold on. Childbirth? Emaan had a kid with her?”

Your pulse spikes as you snort in disbelief, fingertips digging into your scalp as you wave the bread around. “He - he didn’t have any kids. Nothing came up in our research. He was the last of the Sadir bloodline.”

“It’s… blurry, sure. No record explicitly says it was his, but-” Scott pauses, flipping a page in his notebook. “-illegitimate children sometimes went undocumented. That’s what the archivist said, anyway. And given that they were supposedly childhood sweethearts… it’d make sense for it to be his.”

“Fuck!” You take another, rather feral bite. “How on earth are we supposed to follow up on that, then?”

Sam blinks, still processing, grimacing as he flicks off a bit of bread you’ve accidentally spat on his forearm. “Did the kid survive?”

Scott shakes his head. “Like I said, Sam, undocumented. Don't even know its gender.”

Blood rushes to your head, drowning out whatever choice expletives Sam mutters. Bite, chew, swallow. Your thoughts fragment, melting into a bubbling cauldron of stress. Sam and Scott’s voices fade into the background, your focus narrowing to the notebook on the table and the tidal wave of implications battering your brain as you go for another flatbread. Bite, chew, have a crisis, swallow.

“Okay, so - Christ, you animal, save some for us-” Sam mutters with a smirk, swiping the basket toward himself and grabbing a piece before turning back to Scott. “-you said something about the British… somethin’ or other. Is that gonna help us out?”

You snap out of it, narrowing your eyes at Sam. With deliberate precision, you reach across the table, pluck the bread from his hand, and take an exaggerated bite, crumbs tumbling onto your t-shirt.

“Really mature,” he deadpans, leaning back and folding his arms. Then, quick as a flash, he ducks forward, snatching the bread right out of your hand and biting it, his eyes daring you to try him. Cute.

Scott, entirely unfazed, leans casually over your shoulder to snag a piece too, flashing a grin. “Stress eating’s contagious - anyway, yes,” he says, waving his half-eaten bread for emphasis. “British aristocrats. They were…” He glances back to his notes, chewing. “Funding parts of the Hejaz railway's construction, alongside donors from Transjordanian high society. This included Emaan, surprise surprise. Started out as contractual stuff, then evolved into more friendly meet-ups, which included…” He trails off, raising his eyebrows meaningfully and gesturing for one of you to finish his sentence.

Sam leans back, exhaling. “Private poker games, by any chance?”

Scott points at him, snapping his fingers. “Bingo.”

Your pulse quickens, the conversation suddenly feeling like it’s moving faster than your brain can keep up. You grip the edge of the table, the wood pressing into your palms as your thoughts churn.

Oof.

Even thinking that name is making your head spin.

You don’t dare say his name out loud. Keep your elbows and sudden minor aneurysms off the table, please.

But Sam’s head snaps toward you, his knee knocking into yours under the table again. The touch is fleeting, but it sends a jolt through you, steadying the swirl of thoughts in your head, just for a few glorious seconds. He’s reading into you, and you know immediately he’s already made the same connection.

“William Campbell.”

The name hits like someone’s struck a gong right beside your ears, and the sharp pain behind your eyes flares into something molten. You force yourself to nod, your throat tightening as you push the feeling down.

You nod, your throat working as you force the uneasy feeling down along with your last mouthful of bread. “Makes sense. Name’s… British enough, and the timing tracks. If he was gambling big then-”

The pressure in your temple spikes, your breath hitching for just a second. You press your tongue against your teeth, willing yourself not to wince. Not here.

“-whatever he won could’ve driven Emaan to madness.” Scott cuts in, though you’re grateful for the quick removal of attention from you. His fingers drum against the table, a rhythmic counterpoint to the chaos in your head. You tune in to it as best you can. “Thus, inheritance. No?”

“So, what now? We’re suggesting that he either lost it all to Campbell in one of these backroom poker games, or passed it down to this mystery child?” Your voice wavers despite your effort to keep it steady.

“Both are possibilities,” Scott says, watching you closely. “If William was as ambitious as his investments in that ledger suggest, he wouldn’t have just walked away after winning himself a few bucks.”

You feel horrendous. And now Scott’s looking at you, waiting for a response.

Sam taps a finger on the table as he chews on his lip in thought. “Campbell’s a name we can dig into now. The kid? That’s a needle in a haystack. Undocumented - Dead? Lived after Emaan? Decades removed from anything solid. Feels like a waste of time that we might not have the luxury of any more.”

Scott nods reluctantly. His eyes stay locked on you, and for a second, you wonder if he’s caught the way you’re gripping the table or the faint tremor in your hands. The thrum at your temples fucking kills, and you feel like chucking up every crumb of the bread you’ve wolfed down.

“So, Campbell first. But if anything about that kid pops up - anything - we follow it. Agreed?”

Scott nods again, finally turning back to Sam, more sure this time. “Agreed.”

It takes you a beat too long to respond, and when you do, your voice comes out thin. You’re too focused on the dull tingling in the bridge of your nose. “Mm. Agreed.”

You shift in your seat, slipping your napkin up to your face with what you hope passes as casual nonchalance.

It’s fine. Just a headache. Just stress. Just another imminent nosebleed and pounding headache in the midst of another very Sadir-heavy conversation.

Scott leans back, satisfied, flipping his notebook shut with a snap, exchanging it for the menu. Sam reaches for his glass, his movements on edge, and slightly distracted.

Neither of them notices the blood staining your napkin as you pull it away a little.

You press it harder against your nose and swallow the creeping dread signalling that something’s very, very off with you. And now, this whole bloody thing has become three times more convoluted.

look, when i said slow burn i meant slow.

#uncharted #sam drake #samuel drake #sam drake x reader #samuel drake x reader #tsi

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