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witch-hazels-musings · 2 years

Text

days of sorrow

warning: angst - no comfort (reader death*) | one curse word (F)

includes: Albedo (eleazar sickness - mentions of wheelchair, losing the ability to walk, think, function), Diluc (illness undefined), Thoma (illness - cancer)

character x gn reader | anthology

request (reader is sick and doesn’t go out with grace (these are rough yall)) & collaboration - @versadies Farewell Love event -- “what’s wrong with me?” | this broke me

Albedo

relationships, connections, these were not what he imagined he’d have in his life - sure, there were a select few that would always be there but to find himself so eager to spend time with you, to learn more about you, to fall in this ‘so called love,’ it was all so new

“Master Albedo,” one of the attendants interrupted him and his research. He glanced up to greet them and an unfamiliar face standing at side, “This is y/n, the biologist from Sumeru.” They ushered you forward, Albedo noticed the curiosity in you as you scanned your surroundings. Your hand extended toward him, a formal greeting, but your bright eyes and wonderful smile were given to the room.

Chuckling, you finally turned to look at him as your hand curled around his in a friendly hand-shake, “You have such an astonishing research facility Chief Alchemist. I hope you don’t mind, but I did a little research on your work during my travels. You’re work is fascinating and, well, I’m honored to work alongside you.”

Albedo sensed the connection the moment you touched him, the second he saw the purity in your eyes, the curiosity he knew so well. Kindred spirits finding each other; sharing in their joy. “Well,” he spoke, clearing his throat, “I do hope you learn as much as you are willing to teach -”

“Absolutely, Chief Alchemist,” you replied with a small bow of your head.

“Please, Albedo is fine.”

You laughed, a nervous one or an apologetic one, he wasn’t sure, but he liked the sound of it nevertheless, “Of course,” you released his hand and made your way to an empty work station, the one next to his, “so, shall we get started, Albedo?”

as a being unlike anything else in this world, Albedo knew his physiology would set him apart from the normal ailments, terminal illnesses, and death that plagued others

it never occurred to him to concern himself over his health, and it never occurred to him he’d suddenly become consumed by the subject

Albedo made his way down the hall to his office. It was a slow morning, not many students made their way to the lab so the halls were quiet, unobtrusive to his thoughts. He carried two cups of tea in his left hand, the steam from the hot liquid filled his nose and though he couldn’t see you, the thought of you ran through his mind.

The office door was slightly ajar, inside he found you standing next to the chalkboard writing a few notes here and there. Every once in a while you shook your arm as if something was bothering you.

“How’s it going?” Albedo asked as he placed the cups on the desk behind you. Without missing a beat, he picked one up and offered it to you. The cup touched your arm so you twisted to accept it; Albedo couldn’t help but notice how much your hand trembled, struggled to hold the cups weight.

Has it already gotten this bad?

“My calculations seem to be off but I’ve ran this, like, ten times already and I don’t know what’s wrong,” you let out an exasperated sigh before taking a sip of the tea. A gentle smile pulled at your lips and a soft hum told him you liked it, “This is a great pick-me-up.” You were still holding the chalk in your hand when you pulled it up to surround the mug in your palms. Sip after sip you continued to smile as you gazed at the problem on the chalkboard.

“Perhaps its not something within the equation,” Albedo moved to grab another chalk, but before he approached the board, he returned to retrieve your notebook. “Ah, I see.” He moved to erase a few numbers you’d written on the side. As soon as he finished, you exclaimed at his revelation.

“OH! Of course, how stupid of me.” Quickly, you placed the cup down and began to correct the numbers in your formula. As you did, Albedo noticed the black marking on your arm, and based on his internal measurements, it was spreading.

Albedo prided himself on knowing so much -- how frustrating was it when the knowledge he sought provided nothing but pitiful apologies

some genius he turned out to be

You lost the ability to walk weeks ago. It was surprising how difficult it was to make your way around Mondstadt in a wheelchair so you were confined to the grounds of the Knights Headquarters. Luckily for you, there was enough commotion on a good day to keep you entertained, and your research kept you plenty busy. That was when your focus wasn’t poor, or your mind wasn’t fuzzy and disconnected.

It was frustrating trying to work when your mind refused to cooperate. Irritation was a new reoccurring emotion for you but you tried to push through. You refused to let this sickness take more from you, even though it had already taken your legs and was slowly taking your arms.

You weren’t sure what was going on with your body, but Albedo assured you he was working on a cure - and you trusted him, right? The only problem was you wanted to help him, wanted to know more, understand why your body was failing you, why the black, scale-like rashes kept spreading and taking everything with it. You wanted to put your faith in him but you were scared and he wasn’t telling you anything.

A few days after you were confined to a wheelchair, Albedo disappeared behind closed doors. You were slowly losing yourself, you didn’t need to lose him too.

Disturbing him wasn’t something you wanted to do, but you were desperate. Desperate for answers, for comfort, to see his face once again, to hear him -- before it was all too late, you wanted to know him once more.

“A-Albedo?” You called out in the dim light of his office, the fingers you curled around the wheels grew weaker with every grip, every push, but you refused to give up. It strained your voice to speak louder, your chest stung as you called to him again, but seeing him hunched over a table, books spread, tossed aside as if they were no longer useful to him. Scattered notes and torn hopes laying everywhere they fell while he poured himself into a solution, a reason that would never reveal itself to him. It was clear he needed you just as much as you needed him.

“Albedo ...” you spoke and he turned to see you. Eyes lost, shrouded in dark circles and red skin, graphite touching his cheeks as if he’d fallen asleep on his notes again. He saw you and the color he didn’t have faded from his face, “... what’s wrong with me?” You asked, but he couldn’t answer you.

death, it’s only the beginning - what a load of crap

Albedo rarely left your side after that night. The night where the moon was hidden by the clouds and his discovery yielded nothing. In the hours you slept, he snuck away to the study to search more, test again, find a solution but failure after failure he found himself spent. In the few hours you seemed to see grasp your surroundings he would talk to you, read to you, and share with you discoveries as they occurred, but mostly he would hold your hand and become fixated on it’s changing color.

“... be..o,” you whispered as best you could. It seemed the disease was finally taking the last bit of your will with it. “... on’t wanna go ...”

Albedo moved toward you, his body barely resting on the edge of the chair as he leaned to wipe the tears from your cheeks. Lately, they didn’t seem to stop falling. He began to speak but, in all the pitiful sounds you could muster, you cut him off.

“nnng ... non done ... on’t wanna ...” In your head you were screaming, with every fiber of your being you were screaming to communicate to him but the words refused to come out. “I ... lob .. you ... wanna ...”

Albedo -- I don’t want this to happen -- I don’t want to lose myself and forget you -- please don’t let me forget you too -- why is this happening to me --

“Don’t give up” Albedo replied as he pressed his forehead to yours, “I believe there is an answer to this. I will find it. I will find it,” he repeated while you tried to tell him every little thing that ran through your veins.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Let me stay ...

A few days later you slipped into a coma until, ultimately, you slipped away from him completely.

He watched as the light that entered his lab faded in cognition and function. He witnessed your determination to fight against the sickness that cared little for your own willpower, all the while he was helpless to stop it.

It took him weeks to enter the spaces you once occupied. He feared he’d hear your voice calling out to him, or hear your laughter in the sunlight. He dreaded feeling you over his shoulder only to turn around and find you out of his reach. He’d watched people pass, but this was unlike any parting he ever had to make.

Albedo slumped into his desk chair, his absentminded hands drifted over the places he could remember you in. The sound of you working on the chalkboard, the rustle of paper and pen, the soft muttering as you read, the opening and closing of drawers as you moved around his items to make room for your own. He pulled open the top left drawer and laughed at how he could never find anything without you and that’s when he saw a letter. On the surface was his name written in your handwriting.

Desperate, terrified, he lingered over it until he could bear it no longer. Albedo wept as he soaked in the words you were never able to tell him:

Albedo,

I wanted to thank you. From the moment we met, you were the person who was meant to be my partner in life. I’ve learned so much from you that I wish I had the time to pay it back tenfold. You pushed me, challenged me, encouraged me and helped me. I can’t ask for more but [words are smudged and unreadable]

I know we were distracted from the research I originally came to assist you with, so I’ve written out a few notes that I think will aid you since, well, I am no longer there to do so myself.

Truthfully, I didn’t want to go. No one ever wants to die, especially when they have someone like you by their side, but even though I am no longer with you, please don’t blame yourself. I never did.

I [the words are blurred by tear stains] answers are out there, if anyone can find them, you can. Save the next person for me, okay? Oh, but, don’t forget [word is smudged] your life ... live your life, Albedo.

I will always love you, Chief Alchemist

y/n

Diluc

he never imagined in his life he’d fall for someone, so while he worried and contemplated the truth of his feelings, he dreaded the thought of his darkness rubbing off on you - how could have have ever known that no amount of saving, spending, fighting, would ever keep you in his arms

He found himself distracted by you every day. It didn’t matter what you did, where you went, or how you carried yourself - to him you were always the best sight in the world to see. Today was like any other, perfect from dawn to dusk until, suddenly, every nightmarish fear came crashing through his heart like a monster destroys a home.

You were busy by the grape vines, your face showed no signs of discomfort but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. When the two of you woke up, seemed you moved slower than normal and, every once in awhile, you winced for no reason. You passed it off as nothing, a gentle pat on his arm to let him know you were okay, a soft smile and a reassuring kiss against his scared skin. You said you were okay; he trusted you.

Diluc was busy talking to several of his employees when his eyes caught you fanning yourself and gripping onto the side of a cart; he was asked a question so he neglected the gnawing thoughts building in his chest.

A business conversation, a sentence half-made as his whole world came crashing down when the sound of someone desperately called your name. He was gone in an instant and pushed his way to you, bending knee holding you steady, hand cupping your face, blood going cold at the oddness of your skin. “I’m - I’m alright.” You panted, eyes heavy, focus distorted.

“Call the doctor. Now.” Diluc lifted you in his arms. He could hear you try to reassure him everything was fine but he couldn’t make it out over the scolding, reprimanding thoughts that whispered: he had failed you.

no one could have known, no one could have foreseen the outcome - but everyone could feel the suffering spilling from the bedroom

Maids glanced at the closed door as they went about their work, attendants reached for the knob or tried to spy the words inside only to be shooed away by Adelinde

when the doctor finally left and word spread of your fate, the once colorful winery slipped into grey

“Don’t push yourself.” Adelinde reminded you as she reached for your hand. Everything hurt. Your muscles ached, your head throbbed, the mere action of stepping out of the bathtub made you want to throw up. It wouldn’t have mattered much, you barely eat anything anyway. “Let me help.”

“I can do it myself -- ah!” You pushed her away only to stumble into the bathroom countertop. Your hands slipped on the marble surface, elbow crashing against it. That would surely leave a bruise.

“Y/N!”

“I said - I’m - I’m f-fine!” The tears began to fall and you crumpled to the floor while Adelinde surrounded you in the softest towels she could find and patiently waited for you to find your footing. “... wha-what’s wrong with me, Adelinde?” you trembled while she hushed your tears.

you were getting worse - every treatment ended up making you sicker, every idea was wasted, every hope shattered into despair

you just wanted to give up, but he never did

“Diluc.” You whispered against his hand. It was impossible for you to get up anymore. Walking was excruciating, bending your limps, your joints sent waves of discomfort through you. Your days were drawing to a close but, as if to buy you a little bit more time, Diluc confined you to the bed and spent every waking moment with you. “Hey, sleepy.” You called out to him but he didn’t answer. He was exhausted, you were exhausted, but there was a looming fear that if you closed your eyes you’d never see him again.

Trembling, you stretched your hand toward his face. It felt like your bones were shattering in your arms but you braved the pain for him. In the last few months you’d only ever seen him with a contorted, serious, hidden expression as if he were trying to stay strong. If only you had that resolve too, but you were terrified. Terrified of losing him, terrified of what was to come ... terrified of ... dying.

You missed those days when he courted you. Missed the days where he smiled in the shadow of the world, just so you could see him. Missed how he laughed and lifted you high, or held you close knowing you wouldn’t break in his arms. You missed the life that should have been yours, and you were furious it wouldn’t be.

“Please, please Barbados - give me more time.” Pulling his hand to your lips, you placed a wet kiss to them before turning into your pillow and crying until sleep forcibly took you.

the winery shut down - no more orders, no more wine, no more anything. Angels Share had turned into a place of prayer even though it seemed sacrilegious to beckon to the gods in a place where most people desired to get away from them

Diluc barely held himself together but he braved every day for you - but on this day - the day he lost you ...

“There’s no more time.” The doctor whispered to the broken man by the door. A heavy hand rested on his shoulder but it provided no comfort to his crumbling heart. “It’s best you ... say your goodbyes.” Diluc looked at the physician sharply as if his words offended him, but the quiet intruder only closed their eyes before slipping down the hall.

“D-Diluc.” You cried out and he, on shaking legs, made his way to your side.

“I’m here.” He replied, or at least he hoped he did. He wasn’t sure how to speak much these days.

“It hurts.” He knelt beside you, hands reaching for your own as his head fell onto the sheets that held your scent. “I think - I think ... Diluc ..” Your throat clenched and the tears began to fall. No matter what he did to brush them away, nothing mattered. “I don’t want to ... I can’t leave you.”

“It’s going to be alright,” He lied, unsure what else to say and hoping, maybe, if he believed in it strong enough it would come true. “You won’t.” He brushed your hair from your face, his fingers stroked your skin as he leaned in to kiss you.

“I’m scared.”

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, neither are you.” Your lips trembled, your watering eyes blocked out the world so you closed them. Diluc desperately wished you’d keep them open. Let him see, let him see you for as long as he could.

please don’t leave - please don’t leave - please don’t leave me too

You tried to speak but your breathing became erratic so he pressed his hand to your chest, softly guiding you with his words and his actions to ease your breathing, to calm you down but you couldn't. You could feel it, you knew it was time - and you were furious. Whining, crying, you reached for him neck and held on with all the strength you had left. “I don’t want to - I love --”

What does it feel like to hold onto your heart only to feel it slip away? It’s nothing anyone can ever explain but, for Diluc Ragnvindr, it’s a curse he can never escape.

You trembled, tightened your grip, tried to say his name in the voice he loved so much. He didn’t let you go until he realized you weren’t there anymore.

“Y/N?” Diluc lifted his head, eyes searching yours for a reply. For the first time in so long time he gazed at the relaxed, peaceful expression on your face. Deep down in his heart he knew what it meant. No longer were you suffering, no longer did you hold fear in your heart, no longer would you be hungry or thirsty ... no longer ...

He brushed away your final tears but couldn’t stop himself from slipping into the tortured blackness of his broken heart as he collapsed onto your chest and when he found he could no longer hear your once comforting heartbeat he screamed.

You were gone and he begged the world to take him with you.

Thoma

to look at the world and see all it’s capabilities, this trait showed it’s face the day after he washed up on shore. There was nothing holding him back anymore as he braved the world ahead and, much to his surprise, he caught your eye and felt like the luckiest man in the world - so why was this happening, he had never broken his promises before -- what went wrong

Thoma spotted you wandering through the harbor. He’d seen you plenty of times but, for some reason, he felt drawn to you as you passed by vendor after vendor, hands clasped around a small money pouch, a careful eye on all the items for sale. It appeared like you were searching for something but unable to find it.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for a small hairpin, maybe about this long, that isn’t too extravagant. Do you sell anything like that?” The vendor thought for a moment before shaking his head. You did the same before waving a friendly goodbye.

“... Ah - Um, excuse me,” Thoma interjected, catching you slightly off guard. You seemed unsteady, your eyes scanning your surroundings before you took a deep breath. “Sorry, did I startle you?”

“No, I’m alright. Can I help you?”

“Oh, yes, haha,” Thoma rubbed the back of his head before finishing, “Please don’t think it’s rude, but I overheard you are looking for a hairpin?”

“Mmm, for a friend, yes.” Squinting your eyes, you looked at him curiously.

“I believe I know a place, plus, it’ll be far cheaper than anything you’d find in the harbor.” He leaned in to keep his voice low enough to not be heard by anyone other than the two of you, “The vendors here are known for charging unreasonable prices.”

“... I see.” You were hesitant, that was apparent, so Thoma did his best to reassure you.

“I’m sorry, I guess it would be rather odd to just follow someone. I’ll write directions for you and you can go with someone you trust.” He searched his bag for something to write with but you cut him off.

“I try not to live my life through fear, but if you murder me, I will haunt you forever.”

Thoma burst into laughter and threw up his hands, “I promise I won’t.”

“A-Alright, but ... I walk a little slow.”

“No worries, I’ve got time.” He instinctually offered you his hand but, after finding that was strange, not only by the awkward silence in the air, but also by your expression, he pulled it back and gestured in the direction of the shop.

spending time with you was fun, exciting, and he grew attached to you quickly -- but

he could tell there was a secret you were keeping from him. it wasn’t his place to pry - but he couldn’t help but notice how winded you became, how tired you were, how some days the color in your face would shift to hues he’d never seen before ... or the bruises that weren’t there the day before, no seemed to appear at random

You coughed and the feeling rattled your lungs. Secretly you hoped this would only last a minute, but it was turning into one of your fits at the worst possible time.

The tea-cup rattled as you nearly dropped it on the table so you could grip your clothes and cover your mouth with your other hand. It hurt, it hurt so much. It felt like knives were climbing their way up your esophagus. Your back tensed, bones cracked, your neck grew tight and it was becoming hard to breathe, but you couldn’t stop coughing.

Thoma rushed to your side - when did he even make it back into the room - and did his best to help. He’d seen you collapse before, seen you sick, but you hoped your dear friend would never have to see you lost in a fit like this. It was scary to you, how horrifying would it be to an outsider.

“T-Th-ma -” You croaked through violent coughs and gasps for air. His hand moved to your narrowed view and you grasped it until the fit subsided.

“Breathe slow, steady,” he repeated until your coughs transitioned into shaky breaths; he poured a glass of water for you. “Can you drink?” You nodded and took small sips of the refreshing liquid. It felt good against your burning throat but you tried not to drink too much to set it off again.

“S-Sorry,” you mumbled, voice cracking and breaking between sips of water.

“Don’t be sorry. D-Does that happen often?”

You nodded, “Sometimes, but it’s getting worse ...” Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew what it meant but refused to accept it. Perhaps if you denied the truth long enough, you could spent more days with your friend and the man you --

“Let me get you a blanket, your shivering.” Thoma left your side and that’s when you realized the red reflecting in the glass wasn’t from his jacket.

it sucked, it was unfair - you wanted to blame him, wanted to push him away but you couldn’t find the strength to do it

all your life you had kept yourself safe from the reality that weighed you down, “you aren’t meant to live in this world, y/n, so don’t - no matter what - get attached to it”

The cool breeze felt refreshing on your heated skin. It wasn’t great for you to be out with a fever, but your body was always warm now. It’s goal was to fight the illness raging inside of you but it was failing, you were failing, and your time was running short.

All you wanted was to be alone. All you wanted was to be by Thoma’s side. All you wanted was more fucking time but you weren’t going to get any of that. How was it that in a world full of visions that could burn, consume, reshape, and heal, not a single one of them could make you better.

You were furious years ago, but now you were bitter.

A familiar voice called out to you but you hated its sound because it reminded you of all the things you’d never be able to do. It painted pictures in your mind that you’d never be able to see. The voice brought you life didn’t understand that you were nothing but death to it.

“y/n?”

“Leave, Thoma.”

“I brought you your favorite. Why don’t we go inside where it’s warm and eat it together.”

“I don’t want to. Please, just go.” Your voice broke, you wrapped the thin blanket around your body as if to protect you from the cold truth.

“You should eat. It’ll make you stronger.”

“Stronger, right.”

“Come on,” The dish he made came into view as he rested it on the railing but as soon as you felt him touch you, you backed away, stumbling on your weak legs.

“No. J-Just go, please.” The tears were threating to fall but when you looked at the pain on his face their threat became reality. “... what is wrong with me?” you covered your eyes, the emotions in your chest made you cough and your mind dizzy.

“You’re just sick, why don’t we rest.”

“NO!” You screamed, catching him off-guard, his hands hovering just above your elbows, ready to catch you. “Thoma, I’m dying. Don’t you get that!? I don’t know how much longer I have and I don’t know why you’re here. What? Do you want to watch me waste away? I can barely eat, I can barely walk, I can barely keep myself from falling fo --” you stopped yourself by clasping your hand over your mouth. When you felt composed, you turned to walk away from him, “leave Thoma, go live your life.”

“My life is right here.”

The sincerity in his voice forced a sob through your tight throat, another cough followed shortly as you collapsed toward the railing. Thoma rushed to the other side to offer his support and though his touch electrified your very being, it also broke your heart.

“This is the one thing I didn’t want ...” you cried, body trembling as you reached and held onto his arm for dear life. He waited, he always waited, “... I didn’t want to do this. I kept to myself because being with people was too hard. Allowing myself to get close meant I’d have to say goodbye ... Thoma, I wish I’d never met you ... then I .. I,” you held onto him tighter and looked into his eyes, “I wouldn’t have fallen in love just to lose it ...” With no more strength left, your knees gave way but Thoma caught you, he always caught you.

“I’ve got you. I’m here,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around you. His fingers brushed your hair as he spoke, “You won’t lose it. You won’t -” he reassured, pleaded, hoped, but as he held you while you sobbed, both of you knew it was the only lie Thoma would ever tell.

it only got worse - you stopped eating, barely drank. you were confined to the bed but slept more often than you were awake. it was painful to breathe and you were exhausted all the time until one day -- when everything finally eased

You felt something cold against your lips, your eyes fluttered open to see what it was but you could hardly make anything out. It was too bright so you close them again and listened to the sounds in the room.

“Hey there,” Thoma’s voice greeted you so you turned toward it. “Try to sleep some more, it’s still early.” He sounded so close but so far away. There was a strangeness in his tone you couldn’t place.

“mmm,” shaky as your hand was, you managed to lift it enough for him to grab it. The sensation of his warmth spread up your arm and reached your heart as if that was his very goal in life. “... love ...”

Thoma’s lips connected to your fingers and though he tried to hide it, you could hear the strain in his voice as he answered you, “I love you, too. Try to ... sleep, okay?” You squeezed his hand and he returned the gesture while you drifted back to sleep.

Thoma was the one who saw you when no-one else did. He was the one who helped you through so many difficulties when you swore it would all fall on your shoulders alone. He burst into your life like a dog welcoming you home; you swore to never get attached, but Thoma made that impossible.

He was the one who held you when you couldn’t stop shaking, he was the one who made sure you could eat, even if it required the most intense preparation. When others couldn’t be there, he was at your side and, in the final days, he held your hand until all life from it faded away.

Thoma saw you live and he watched the way you died.

As he laid the flowers on your grave, he let his hand rest against your name just to feel close to you one last time, “You said you weren’t meant for this world, but you were meant for mine ...” he stumbled over the final words as he spoke, “you were mine.”

what is a memory - something you can’t touch

what is love - something you can’t hold onto

what is life - empty, without you

---

tag list: (broken tags)

@star-gods @mercurysmaiden @dourpeep @clemmywrites @handswritteeen @musekala @mooshymello @glazelilyy @twokissesforamelia @smol-knife @aoirohi @mguerra11 @lucy-roo @ryekoo @nonniechan @tempehlust @zenith-impact @plumpkie @jaggedsi @salty-salty @onlyhereforinteractivestories @liebestraumss @jaemjenjam @softlybeloved @anatthesavage @mkazuyuh @excitedlysuffering @yujiia @cytomegalia @nua-fromliyue @yoshikuno @anonymousficreader @cyphermagic @akira-kiryu @lenioxoxo @justfandomlover @duskdawn052 @emeixho @yanfei-main771 @musical-gravity @1-800-beidou @makinouri @my-dear-wendy @alatuszc @dearest-ei @x-madeline-x @jahnvi-d @blushingskywalker @cherryflushz @lucy-roo @sufzku @uchihaeirin @kazuhasupremacyy @scaracock @starserene @bloodreaper08 @disoriented-fish @straymoon96 @x-zho @kartoffelgrace @sunny-star021 @3slicedbananas @noctua-koi

#genshin impact #genshin impact X reader #genshin impact musings #genshin impact fiction #genshin impact headcanons #tw reader death #cw reader death #albedo x reader #diluc x reader #thoma x reader #albedo angst #diluc angst #thoma angst #farewell-love #THIS FUCKED ME UP #I SOBBBBBBBBED WITH THIS BS #I HOPE YOU ARE HAPPY T>T>T>T>T>T>>TT>

653 notes · View notes

catcze · 3 years

Note

bestie i need your thoughts on xiao/zhongli/tohma/childe/whoever with a cock piercing because uh-

the sheer possibilities. the amount of things they could do-

catte i am on my knees please.

horny hours with 🍙

yeah yknow what, on second thought, imma give u an imagine:

-------

Imagine Tohma holding your legs up and apart in a mating press, sitting back on his heels as he appreciates the mess he's made out of you. His tongue pokes out to wet his lip, and he lets his hips slide forwards again, letting the cool metal of his piercing roll over your overstimulated clit.

He can't help the amused chuckle at your keen, your legs shaking from just how long he's been teasing you.

And when he finally gives in and slowly pushes himself into you- oh heavens-

You cum right there on the spot, eyes rolling back as his cock, piercing and all, punches deep into your aching cunt, rubbing against all of the rights spots within you.

------

Imagine Xiao absolutely reveling in the power he has over you, rolling his hips against yours every so often just to stir up your insides and keep you sensitive and on the edge for him. He knows the piercing feels good against your walls, knows that it catches over your g-spot with every thrust. Imagine him tsking at you every time you beg to cum, saying things like, "be a good girl and wait for my command."

-----

Imagine Zhongli being quite stunned at your reaction but quickly growing to love the way you mewl and beg for him. You're trembling and you seem as though you might pass out but your pretty lips and glassy eyes keep begging him for more, more, more.

And who is he to deny you as he unloads himself within you over and over and over again, kissing your tears away as you babble about his piercing and cry about how good it feels.

-----

Imagine licking around Kazuha's piercing, grinning as his knees go weak and tears well up in his pretty crimson eyes.

Imagine running your finger along the metal and probing where it meets the skin, humming on his cock as he all but wails for you to let him cum.

-------

lkasdfjas sorry this was long and super not well written cuz im runnin outta time but hey!

brainrot with attractive genshin men

🍙:)

(love ya!)

NSFW!! 18+ ONLY !!

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

!!⠀Feat : Thoma, Xiao, Zhongli, Kazuha x GN! Reader

!!⠀## : Smut. Smut smut smut smut

!!⠀CWs : Implied belly bulge (Thoma), Dacryphilia, Orgasm denial (?) (Xiao), Zhongli and Kazuha’s don’t really have anything i need to tag aksjdsa, Rough sex (ish) for all of them <33

YOO Cock piercings are getting the spotlight recently I see 👀 not complaining tho akjssa

BABE PLS you really got me breathless and biting my lip when I read all that, damn 😩💦 Love u too babe <33

I've got so many thoughts but not enough time sO here are my quick thoughts off the top of my head about these fine men with their dicks pierced <33

Thoma would probs be sensitive the first time he thrusts into you, like, gasping about how tight you feel on his cock and how good you are. As the night progresses tho, he’d become more accustomed to the sensitivity in this dick. Whenever he thrusts into you deep and hard enough for you to definitely feel the metal in his cock, he’d ask you in a low, low purr, “Do you feel that, baby? Good? Mm, yeah, let’s see if I can feel it too,” before he pushes down on your stomach hard enough to make you see stars. Side note, go down on this man and kiss his piercing when you do. He might cum on the spot.

Xiao, I think, would probably rate how well he was fucking you depending on how long it takes to make you cry for him. He’s delighted though when he has you crying so soon on his pierced cock–– it’s a new record in his book. But just because you’ve started crying and babbling from the pleasure doesn’t mean that Xiao is satisfied. Instead, he shifts your hips and hitches your legs up at the perfect angle for his piercing to rub against the part inside you that has you trembling and crying even harder for him. He’d shush you when you whine that you need to cum, please please please, with a forceful thrust and a ‘Not yet,’ that immediately has you stilling.

I agree that Zhongli would probably be the most entranced by your reaction to the piercing in his cock. His eyes would never stray from your face as he slides his cock into you. From the way your brows furrow and your eyes roll when the piercing in his cock reaches the deepest parts of you to the way your mouth drops open in a gasp, the sweetest, “Zhongli, thank you thank you thank you–– Cum inside, please,”–– he watching you through all of it, pressing his cock even deeper so you can make even more noises, so he can pleasure you even further. He’ll do it for the entire night if he has to–– whatever it takes to keep you drunk off the metal in his cock and moaning his name.

Kazuha would have the tightest hold on your hips when his cock enters you. The sensation of your walls around him and his dick piercing is enough to stutter his breaths. While he works to seat himself fully inside you, the noises he makes are divine. Raspy “A-ah,”s and groans of your name–– even the occasional swear muttered under his breath. It’s something so rare of him to outwardly swear like that that it has you tightening around him like a vice grip making the ronin’s hands shake even more and his flush to deepen. He swears–– he’s not even fully inside you yet but he already wants to cum.

#Catcze.Lingerie 💦#Thoma smut #Xiao smut #Zhongli smut #Kazuha smut #Genshin smut #🍙 anon #Cw GN reader #Catte’s Works 🦩

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saturnscribe · 3 years

Text

But First, Dessert

Harvey x Reader; established relationship. 18+ minors DNI

A/N: This is an ao3 mirror. I won’t be linking it, I’d like to keep the two accounts separate. I don’t have any warnings, I had just meant to write a fluffy drabble where SDV Harvey... has dessert before dinner.

The doctors’ usual steady fingers trembled slightly as they played over the fabric of your underwear. He’d seemed so confident up until now, surprisingly so. The way he pushed you into the room with a searing kiss, how he tore at your blouse, nearly popping a button off it. Harvey’s mouth was hot as it trailed down your chest, leaving the occasional mark you wish he’d make darker. His hands were hungry as they slid into your bra, down your sides. He was quick to pull your pants off, thrown into some corner of the room. But now, with you clad in your panties, he seemed unsure.

“What’s wrong,” you push yourself off the bed, weight resting on your elbows. Your question seems to snap him out of his thoughts, and Harvey looks up with a heated stare.

“Nothing,” he licks his lips and hooks his thumbs into the cotton material of your underwear. The shake in his hands slowly ebb. You shift your weight to help him work the last bit of fabric off your hips and down your legs. As it reaches past your knees’ he tears it off and throws it behind his shoulder, lost to the rest of the room. Not losing momentum, Harvey hooks his hands behind your knees, pulls them apart and pushes them up, up, up to where it’s parallel with your head. There’s little to no strain, you’ve always taken pride in your flexibility. But this was new.

Without thinking, you clasp your knees together. You’ve never been so exposed, and it comes as a shock. For once, you feel heat bloom in your face and work its way down your chest.

“H-Harvey!” A hand darts to cover your sex. You’re not sure what’s gotten into him. You trust him, but you’re confused and exposed. Confusion and anxiety swim between your ribs, but you make no move to break his hold. While Harvey’s grip is firm, you know he’d let you escape if you wanted. There seems to be a moment where he expects you to push him away, but after a beat the doctor smiles at you and moves to press a kiss into your thigh.

Your hips buck and thighs press tightly together. The spot is sensitive, just under your knee. Some unknown feeling swirls in your chest. It’s a mix of too many things and you can’t put a word to it until Harvey presses his lips onto your skin again. It’s lower this time, and your breath hitches in your throat. You look down at him, and you nearly jump as he meets your gaze. 0 You fist the blankets beneath you as you suck in another breath between your teeth.

The doctor frees a hand, and you keep your leg in held place. He moves to take his glasses off, but stops to take you in. There’s a sheen of sweat over your exposed skin. Your hand still covers yourself, but the way you hold yourself open, just as he left you, does something to him. There’s a hard look in his eyes you’ve never seen before and you feel yourself twitch. It’s definitely something you’ll have to explore at a later date. This whole thing was something new to explore. Harvey has come at you with an energy like this before, lustful in a way you wouldn’t have expected. But this was different; there seemed to be something new sparking between you.

“Thank you,” he hums, returning to you without his glasses. His hand returns to the soft patch below your knee. Harvey thumb rubs a small circle into your knee in a show of appreciation, followed by a nip into the underside of your thigh, taking note of the way you twitch beneath him. He presses a gentle kiss to the same spot, and begins to work his way down with another, and another. Harvey revels in the way you shake and gasp in his hold and eagerly skips few inches down your open thighs to press a final kiss to your knuckles. It wasn’t hard to guess where he was working towards, but the gravity of it still knocks the breath out of your lungs. He doesn’t ask permission with his words, but the slow and gentle kisses he presses to your knuckles is question enough. Your fingers twitch with a moments’ hesitation before falling away.

He sighs hard in relief, eyes dropping from yours to the wet heat between your legs. Harvey takes a moment, almost admiring. The intensity of his stare eats at you. You were never comfortable enough to really explore yourself past your fingers and the occasional toy, and you wished he’d move a bit faster. It was uncomfortable having him watch you so closely, but before you could show your discomfort, Harvey leans in. His tongue is thick and wet, the heat of his mouth searing. He licks you from your entrance to your clit, a groan falling between you as he passes the exposed nub. Harvey moves closer, throwing your legs over his shoulders in a fluid motion. His free hand holds your hips tight, feeling and trying to restrain the buck of your hips at the action. You pant hard, squirming in his grip. He repeats the action slow and purposeful, trying to read your reactions.

It’s hard to think as he laps at you, taking note of every hitched breath and moan. Harvey always watched you carefully and worked hard to make you happy, but in this moment, it was paying off in ways you could have never imagined. The way he pressed you into the bed was maddening, you wanted to move into him, to get more friction, to guide his mouth to where you needed him the most. But he took his time with you, perhaps reveled in the fact he was solely in charge of your desire. His tongue works in circles and slow drags, enjoying the way your legs tense around him.

Your moan echoes through the cabin when he sucks at your exposed clit. Over the last few minutes, all you received were teasing passes, along or against the nub, or the faintest pressure against your opening. All teases, until now, where he feasts like a starved man. Your hands fly into his hair, finally giving into your desire and tugging him closer. A growl forces itself between your sex and up the expanse of you, a desperate moan meeting the sound in return. Harveys' tongue works you in broken rhythm, but his eagerness makes up for any inexperience. You throb, and clench around nothing, before giving his hair an experimental tug. Another sound pours from him, and he presses your hips further into the bed.

Your head knocks back with a loud whine, head pressing further into the mattress as he moves from your sensitive clit to press his tongue against your entrance. He pries you open slowly, moving in a rhythm meant to tear you apart. You had expected him to move as quickly as he had done before, but Harvey takes his time with the push and pull of his tongue and lips, working you open wet and sloppy.

Your fingers curl tightly into his hair as you begin to break. It was a wonder how you managed to last this long, never having someone’s mouth on you before. He was a bit clumsy, but he more than made up for it. Harvey was eager and paid close attention to you for so long, and it felt so good, but this was something else entirely. He fucks you on his tongue, spurred on by the way you squirm against him. Your fingers tug on auburn strands as pleasure twists in your gut. You need more and you don’t know how to ask for it. You’re not even sure if you can ask for it. His actions pull you apart, and your thoughts are hazy. He’s doing so much for you and you’re not sure you should ask. You didn’t want him to think what he was doing wasn’t enough, and there was no way you could really express yourself in this state.

He moans into you again, slowly pulling out of your heat. His tongue finds itself on your clit again, body convulsing with sensitivity.

“Please,” you whine, the sound thick and desperate. You fix yourself on the word and repeat it again and again, begging without real direction.

Harvey moves a hand from your hip and glides it down across your thigh. Your stomach flips as he pets the inside of your thigh. You’re suddenly aware of how damp the space is between your upper thighs is, and you move to cover your face out of embarrassment. Your boyfriend allows the action with a dark chuckle and moves his hand slowly between your legs.

“You’re so wet,” he purrs, fingers teasing your folds. “All this for me? Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. You make the most beautiful sounds. I can tell you’re loving it.” He nips the inside of your thigh, and you cry out again. You’re hips shake, but you press yourself closer to his face now that you have the room to do so.

“Patient, love.” Deft fingers dig into your hips and a shaky breath leaves you. There’s a lot to explore outside of tonight, you decide.

Kisses are pressed into the soft skin of your thigh, and he works up to the place you need him most. Harvey’s fingers begin to part your lips. He works slowly, taking time in building the moment up.

“Let me take care of you,” he whispers between your legs, fingers finally sliding in. There’s a slight burn in the stretch of his two fingers, but you’re more than ready for them. Your moan breaks off as the heat of his mouth returns to you. He’s true to his word, as he gives you exactly what you were asking for. The push of his fingers is almost enough to get you off, but you do your best to keep together. The doctor had quite a way with you, and you knew there would be a reward for waiting.

He doesn’t make you wait long. Harvey’s mouth continues, spurred on by the way you cry and thrash about, all because of his mouth and fingers. The hand at your waist no longer holds you down but wraps around the fingers of your free hand. The other lays in his hair, pushing his head to wherever you need him most. He lets you guide him as he moves his fingers, looking for that sweet spot against your inner wall. He knows he’s found it when you sob, clenching tightly around his fingers.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” You cry as his fingers work purposefully against the spot deep inside you. Your resolve crumbles quickly, and you rock in tandem with his ministrations. This is what you’ve needed. He knew how to find that spot with ease. It might come from his profession, or previous partners but that didn’t matter. The only thing that did was his precision, eagerness, and ability to absolutely drive you wild when he found that spot.

Sounds pour from you unrestrained. Each thrust of his finger, every curl of his tongue, brings you closer to the edge. Your body strings tight, legs tensing at Harvey’s shoulders, your hand gripping tightly at his hair. Your voice pitches higher, hips pressing firmer into him. He notices the signs and doubles in his efforts. Fingers moving rough into you, mimicking the pace he’d set if he was fucking you properly.

It doesn’t take long after that for your orgasm to rush over you. It hits harder than you expect, your body arching sharply off the bed with a broken cry. You’re faintly aware of Harvey holding you tight with both hands, pressing your hips flushed against him as he works you through your orgasm. His tongue continues, hungry to milk you of your release. A second wave washes over you, a sob escaping your parted lips. You tremble against him, the only thing keeping you upright is his hold. Half your body is slumped into the damp mattress, your grip still tight in his hair. It takes a moment, but with your free hand you manage to pat his forearm in a silent request for no more.

Harvey pulls off you with a gasp, the sound lost in your breathless pants. You continue to tremble, sensitive in all the best ways and still halfway on some other plane. He takes notice and can’t hold back a smile, knowing he was able to bring you to this point. The man slides up your body, presses a wet kiss to your cheek and pulls you into a gentle embrace. He then pushes the hair out of your face and peppers kisses to the newly exposed skin, wanting to shower you in affection.

“Are you doing alright?” He asks softly, hands roaming your body. Harvey always made sure to stay by you until you calmed, post orgasm. He’d clean you if the opportunity arose. Made sure you were hydrated and loved. It was another thing about him that made you feel so lucky, this night aside. You nod in assurance, words still escaping you.

He pets and kisses you as you slowly come down. In the beginning, you had assured him all the attention wasn’t necessary, but you’ve grown to appreciate it. It was a welcome routine. When Harvey was sure you were with him, he offers you a slow kiss, and leaves the shared space of your bed. He wasn’t gone long and returns with a glass of water. He offers to help you sit upright, but you turn it down. You lift yourself upright with wobbling arms, your strength having left with the force of your orgasm. Harvey stands in front you as you drink your water, and when you sit it down, he’s on you again.

During your kiss, you feel a heavy weight against your thigh, and you know there’s business left unfinished. But when your fingers brush against the side of his length, Harvey chuckles and pulls his hips away.

“Not now, love. I wanted to take care of you. Don’t mind it, it has a mind of its own.”

You whine into the kiss, finding it unfair. Taking care of him wasn’t a chore, and Harvey knew it. He knew how much you loved to drop to your knees and service him. Loved the weight of him on your tongue, the feel of him pushing into the tight channel of your throat. The thought of it alone was getting you excited.

“Are you sure?” You ask, fingers brushing along the outside of his thigh.

“Yes.” His laugh is hearty, and it fills you. You love him so much, every little thing about him. His giving nature, how unselfish and loyal he was. You loved each shared cup of coffee, intimate look, and hold. It might be early, but you had plans to visit a certain merchant the next rainy season.

“Now that we’ve had dessert, let me get started on dinner for you.” Harvey kisses you deeply, taking your breath away.

#sdv x reader #stardew valley #sdv harvey x reader #sdv harvey #sdv harvey x reader smut #stardew valley x reader #ao3 mirror #i want to keep the two accounts separated #sdv x y/n #stardew valley x y/n #harvey x y/n #sdv harvey x y/n #sdv smut #stardew valley smut #these tags... im blushing #saturnscribes

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littlesniggy · 3 years

Note

Hey could i request an Ace x female!reader scenario where she is Whitebeard’s biological daughter and the “little sister” of the crew. And she gets pregnant by Ace but nobody knows about it because they kept their relationship secret. So while the crew are eating lunch, the reader suddenly stands up and announces her pregnancy without giving Ace a warning (he already knew about it but didnt expect her s/o to say it outloud) So he just sits there all nervous while the crew is interrogating the reader about who is the father so they can kill him . Also i imagine whitebeard just choking on his beer for the shocking news lol.Srry if its too especific, change wtv u want about it.

Hello! Thank you for requesting! I hope I wrote everything to your liking. I probably went a little too much into Whitebeard's reaction but oh well...Please enjoy!

Pairing: Ace x female! reader

Crew's and Whitebeard's reaction to reader announcing her pregnancy

Word count: 1.2k

“I’m pregnant, Ace.” He thought those words had caught him completely off guard. Your slightly trembling voice, your insecure tone, your harried eyes, darting from him to the wall behind him and back to him again; and he couldn’t say a word. Thinking about it now, he felt bad about his reaction but he was simply stunned. The first thing that had come to his mind was: How?

Of course, Ace knew how babies were made but didn’t you to use contraception? Sure, there was always a risk when having sex but Ace would’ve never thought he’d come into such a precarious situation.

The lack of speech had you think it was a bad idea; you should’ve never told him in the first place and just gotten rid of it. But you didn’t want to. You’ve already made up your mind that you would get the baby, if Ace wanted to or not. You wouldn’t even push him to be part of its life if he didn’t want to.

Ace noticed you becoming more insecure by the second and snapped back from his thoughts. “Hey, hey. Why that face?” he asked, trying to smile encouraging even though he felt insecure himself. “That’s great. It just came so…suddenly, y’know?” he said honestly, putting a hand on your cheek, stroking it your skin lightly.

“I know. I’m sorry to just tell you like this. But better now than never. I was shocked myself.” You admitted, leaning into his touch. A huge burden was being lifted from your shoulders and you were glad that Ace accepted it like this. Now came the difficult part though – how should you tell your father, Whitebeard?

Ace nearly choked when you announced your pregnancy to the crew out of nowhere. He stared at you wide eyed, face an unhealthy red. Did you catch him off guard back then? Absolutely. Did he think you could manage that again? Absolutely not. Was this announcement to your friends and family even worse? Holy shit, yes! Why didn’t you give him a heads up, an early warning? Anything, really!

All eyes were on you, a small smile on your lips. Marco was the first one to clear his throat. “W-what did you say?” he tried to get affirmation that he just misheard but you didn’t do him this favor. “I said, I’m pregnant.” You repeated yourself as if nothing was wrong with this statement.

Ace looked over the faces of his friends, some were shocked, some were angry, and some just had a blank expression. He didn’t want to look over to Whitebeard but he just had to take a quick look.

The old man was sitting at the head-side of the table, with a huge bottle of booze in his hand and completely frozen in place. Ace wasn’t sure if he even was still alive. Maybe the old man had a heart attack? Not too uncommon for people his age.

And suddenly, there was a lot of commotion on the table. Everyone was talking over each other, asking you questions over questions without waiting for an answer.

“Who did this to you?” “Did you get hurt?” “Tell us the name of this bastard!” “We will hunt him down, cut his dick off and present it to the sea monsters as some kind of offering!”

Every pair of eyes looked at the person who just said the last suggestion in confusion. “What?” Marco asked, bewildered from this comment. “I-I was just thinking…never mind.” The man said and sat back down, drinking his beer in silence. The pairs of eyes were shortly after back on you, everyone expecting an answer.

“Whoever this bastard is should run far, far away.” The deep voice of your father sounded from the far end. Apparently, no heart attack. Ace thought to himself. You looked at Whitebeard with a small smile on your lips, shaking your head.

“And why should he?” you wanted to know, intending on making Ace sweat a little more for the time being. It was kind of your revenge for him being silent for so long when you told him. It was petty, you knew but in your eyes you got a free pass. After all, you were going to go through a lot of pain in the end.

“Because once I get him into my hands I will personally crush this man with all I’ve got. So I hope he’s already on the run.” Whitebeard was mad. Not, because you were pregnant but because someone dared to touch his beloved daughter. Ace swallowed hard and looked over to you with a slightly pleading look on his face.

“So, you would crush your second division commander? That would be a shame. You’d loose one of your best men.” Silence. Aces’ eyes were wide open and his face said it all. How can she say this so nonchalantly?! Is she out of her mind?! Every single pair of eyes were now on him, disbelief written all over them. You could hear a pin drop; nobody dared to speak up.

“So, you’re the one who touched my precious daughter, Ace?” Whitebeard slowly got up from his seat, his heavy footsteps rumbling through the boat. “W-well….I-I can explain, pops.” Ace also got up from his place, slowly backing away with a shaky smile on his face, hands held up in defense.

“Really? Let me hear your excuse, then.” Whitebeard was standing in front of him, and it was the first time Ace felt intimidated by his captain. But before he could say anything you came between them, taking Aces’ hand and holding it tightly.

“We’ve been dating for quite some time now. We just thought it’d be better if nobody knew.” You said, looking up at your father.

Whispering could be heard from the rest of the crew at this revelation. Whitebeard raised an eyebrow. “For quite some time, huh? Why didn’t you tell me, Y/n? I’m your father.” Did he sound hurt? Or were you just mistaking? Either way, you felt guilty. “We just thought it’d be best for the crew if nobody knew. We didn’t want to cause disturbances on the ship.”

Whitebeard stayed silent for a moment, then looked behind you to Ace who immediately tensed up. “If you do anything and hurt my daughter or my grandchild in any way I will make my words from earlier come true. I can always get a new second division commander.” There was a small smile on his lips as he turned back to return to his seat.

You turned around to Ace and gave him a quick peck on his cheek. “Why are you so tense? Everything went great!” you said innocently, pulling him back to the table where the rest of the crew was waiting to ask you two more questions. Before you two sat down, this time next to each other, Ace whispered into your ear. “Someone’s getting punished later on, Y/n. You almost gave the old man a heart attack, y’know?” he chuckled but was silenced by you almost immediately. “Just cause you’ll become a father doesn’t mean you have to call yourself ‘old man’.” Knowing full well he meant Whitebeard.

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stargazingthenightaway · 3 years

Text

See Something You Like? Part 3

Pairing: Rebels Rex x Reader

Word Count: 4.4K

Warning: NSFW 18+ Sexual tension, yearning, dirty thoughts, praise kink, size kink, Dom!Rex, slight predator/prey vibes

A/N: What. The. Fuck! This turned into a monster chapter! Buckle up people things are starting to heat up! Let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list.

Those words ring in your ears as you stare at Rex, his gold eyes pinning you in place, grip still gentle on your chin. He’s standing so close that you can feel the heat from his body, ghosting over you skin. You’re surprised that you chest is not touching his already, and it probably would be if you could remember how to breathe. He’d taken it away the moment his thumb started to caress along your jaw, adding trails of heat with each pass, branding your skin with his touch.

You know you can easily break out of his hold, but you don’t know if you’ll be able to have this, have him, all to yourself again, so you keep still, enjoying the sensation of his touch on your face. The calluses on his hand feel warm, made from years spent fighting and honing his skills to perfection. Skills he expertly used to outmaneuver and put you in a place under his power, his control and secretly that idea excites you. Rex is the one calling the shots, and you wonder if that was his intent all along. You break from Rex’s gaze, turning your head to survey the results from the match.

The targets are at a standstill, waiting for the simulation to be reset for the next person. At the centre of each is a perfectly placed shot, the edges marked with blaster residue and lightly smoking. The wispy tendrils curl into the air, taunting you as a reminder that your meagre shots were no match for Rex’s precision.

Beaten. Destroyed. Absolutely annihilated.

That’s how you’d describe your side of the outcome of this farce of a challenge. All in the hopes of preventing your wanton thoughts from being spoken aloud. Using an imaginary wager to try and play your emotions off. A false bet now made true. It must have been childs play for Rex to see through your flimsy ruse, and use that to his advantage. Going against someone like Rex, who has years more experience than you, hoping to win? What a fool’s wish. Now, you’re at his mercy.

There’s pressure on your chin as Rex turns your face back towards him, relaxed in his perusal of your form. “Now, what to do with you?” He leans back, placing his hands on his hips and giving you a very slow once over, admiring the view in front of him. There’s a steady beating against your ribs, the same beat that causes Rex’s eyes to linger at the pulse point at your throat, before finally lifting them to your face “So many possibilities.”

You watch his lips say one thing but hear his voice say another, and it makes you want. Oh, does it make you want, so many things. Things that you would only tell the most depraved part of yourself, before locking it up and throwing away the key. Things that make you toss and turn and cry for release. Things that you want to give to Rex, just so he can call you his good girl. Sadly, those thoughts are only fantasy, no matter how much Rex may flirt with you, or that you may burn for his touch, that’s all your thoughts will be. Fantasy. Bringing yourself back to reality is harder than you’d like it to be, but you do it anyway, shoving the words out of your mouth with a shaky smile on your face.

“We could always narrow those possibilities down to a couple.” You think for a moment before you have an idea. It might not be what you want, but you’ll still get to be near Rex for the foreseeable future. “What about this, I could finish your reports for a certain amount of time or polish your armour.”

Rex tilts his head like he’s contemplating the idea, reaching for his chin. You can hear the slight scratch of his beard as he moves his hand over the whiskers. It sends a delightful shudder through you as you imagine the beard burn he’d leave behind after spending some time between your thighs, a constant reminder of what he’d done every time you go to move. The throb between your legs continues to grow, fully on board with that idea. Curse your weak self-control!

Rex shakes his head and your heart droops. “Heh, while that sounds like a good idea, that’s something I’d give one of the shinies to do. Keep them occupied and out of my way. But you?” He suddenly leans forward, making sure there was no space between the two of you. “I’d rather keep you in my sights.” He shakes his head again, a lazy grin curving on his lips, “no I have something different in mind for you mesh'la.”

Mesmerized, you wait for him to continue, and as the silence grows you realize he’s waiting for you to ask, make you voice the question out loud. Ask him what he wants. With you.

There’s calm expectancy in his gaze as you finally voice the question you both need to hear to move on from this emotional limbo.

“What do you want?”

Rex is eyeing you like a nexu thats caught its prey as he braces his forearms by your head, caging you in, before leaning his head next to your ear, whispering those words that make your stomach clench with need.

“I want you.”

Any response you had shuts down in surprise. Someone could barge in at this very moment, crying out that the Empire was gone and you wouldn’t care. The world around you ceases to exist, focused only on the man in front of you. Of all the things Rex could ask for, never would you have imagined he’d want you, and to state it so boldly makes your knees weak. I want you. His words echo in your head I want you. I want you. I want YOU. Your mind is in a whirlwind as you try to collect your thoughts, unsure of how to move, if you can move, your body with this revelation.

As you drift in stunned silence, Rex takes in your appearance and is enchanted by what he sees. From your bright, wide eyes locked on him, to your rosy cheeks that have made a lovely flush down your chest. Stars it’s a sight, and your mouth. Parted in a slight ‘o’ from surprise, your lips are just begging to be kissed. All plush and perfect, tempting Rex to take a nibble, take a taste. He wonders what sounds he can get you to make just for him. Soon. Yes, he very much likes what he sees and wonders just how debauched you’ll look after he’s thoroughly taken you apart, ruined you for anyone else so that he will be the only one who can satisfy your cravings.

His cock twitches in his pants, thinking of how you hastened to obey his command to get into the shooting position, the ‘sir’ that fell from your lips sending a burning need through his veins to hear you say it again as he spread you wide, licking up your juices. As you were bouncing on his cock, begging him to go faster. Taking you from behind as you wanted more, please sir, more! All these enticing possibilities at his fingertips, and who was he to squander such an opportunity.

Turning his head towards you, he breathes you in, noticing how you shiver beneath him, already reacting to his presence. Rex can see your dazed expression, thoughts somewhere else, and decides he wants your attention back on him where it belongs.

“Your mind’s straying again mesh’la.” He says, lips lingering by your cheek. “Time to come back to me.”

Instead of a jolt to awareness, your awakening is more like a haze slowly lifting, Rex’s voice leading you back to the present. His voice is like that first cup of caf in the morning, dark, warm and knows how to get you going. His beard tickles your skin as you answer. “It does seem to do that.” You chuckle weakly, “It’s becoming a bad habit.” A bad habit that brings him close enough for you to ride his thigh you think to yourself.

“Hmm, then I’ll just have to be the one to break you of it before it becomes a problem.” One of Rex’s hands move from the wall and finds a new home on you hip, slowly dragging the fabric of your shirt up, exposing the sensitive skin beneath. He doesn’t bother to hide his glee when he hears the quiet squeak you utter, smirk forming on his lips that he knows you can feel.

“This bad habit of yours only seems to happen when I’m around. Am I really that bad that you’d need to think of something else?”

How could he think that! You blurt out an answer in your haste to reassure him that there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. “No! No, it’s not somethi-”

His smirk turns predatory and you realize you’ve walked into a trap.

“Ah, then someone.” The hand at your hip flexes “Do I make you wish someone else was here? Is that who your minds goes to?”

Rex’s voice deepens to a growl, challenging the idea that there could be someone other than him to have your attention, your affection. He can’t help the possessive feeling that claws at his chest that screams Mine! when he sees you, wanting to place you on his lap for all the base to see that you are his, not some jumped up pilot who can’t tell the difference between their dick and a gear stick.

He sounds jealous you think to yourself and Maker does that thought get you wet. As if he has anything to worry about.

Rex continues, his voice causing trembles to ripple through your body, that you know he can feel. “There was that pilot who was talking with you the other day…”

“It’s not him.” You don’t even hesitate to give your answer, wanting to dispel that idea before it ruins anything.

His hand relaxes, thumbs lazily circling on your skin. The feeling causes your eyes to flutter and lean into him “Then it is someone. Who is it then that has you so enraptured cyare?”

The growl has turned into a soothing rumble, helping you ease even further into his touch. The patterns Rex has been drawing slowly changing course, moving from your hip up to your waist, making his way up your torso. You keen when his fingers graze the underside of your breast, not going any further, just teasing you with his touch. Back and forth, back and forth. There is no way that he doesn’t know what his touch is doing to you, that your panties are coated in your juices, that you’re ready to just say ‘fuck it’ and drop to your knees to suck his dick. Anything to get him to stop pawing your and do something.

As if he senses your turmoil, Rex turns his head so that he’s facing you, so close that his lips ghost over yours. "Who consumes your thoughts to the point of forgetfulness?”

Maybe it’s your turn to surprise him and turn the tables in your favour. With a lazy smile you place your hands on his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath and look up at him with your best tooka eyes.

“Don’t you know Sir? It’s you.”

You’ve barely finished uttering those words before Rex pushes his body against yours, until there is no space between the two of you. The hand not on your side whips behind your head, gripping your hair and pulling your head back so your neck is bared. Your hands flutter by your sides, unsure of where to put them as you stare wide-eyed up at him

“Say that again” he growls.

You swallow hard and his eyes track your throat’s movement before looking back up. “It’s you.”

He shakes his head “You’re missing something there cyare”

Oh. You grin wickedly, so that’s how it’s going to be. “It’s you, Sir.”

The growl that comes from his chest makes the deepest part of you clench in need, and you want to hear that sound again as he’s over you, fucking you into his bunk. Your hips start to grind up against Rex when he suddenly pins them against the wall with his own, stopping your ministrations. You whine in frustration and he nips your jaw in retaliation.

“Tell me right now if this is not something you want cyare, and I’ll stop.”

Why would you want him to stop you think to yourself, when you finally get to have him exactly how you’ve dreamed. You voice your thoughts out loud “I thought our bet was you could do anything to me, anywhere you wanted?” Dread sinks low in your belly, does he not really want this and is using you as an out?

He quickly puts that fear to rest. “Only with your consent. I won’t take anything that is not given freely or willingly. So I’ll ask again, is this something you want?”

A flush warms your chest and it’s not from the arousal Rex inspires in you. This perfect being in front of you would stop everything at once, no matter how excited he may feel, if you said you were uncomfortable. This is what sets him apart from everyone else. While they may taketaketake without any thought to you, he puts your comfort as his priority, giving you the chance to say no and respect it.

You want to give Rex everything he deserves, which is why there is no hesitation when you reply. “I want this. I want you.”

Rex looks at you, searching for something that would indicate that you aren’t telling him the truth and finds only honesty. He’s suddenly surging forward, lips devouring yours in a bruising kiss. Stars, you just submit to him, opening your mouth with a whimper so that he can taste you. He savours the feeling of your tongue against his, warm and wet, with the sweet tang of the muja fruit you’d had earlier in the mess hall. He had watched you, unnoticed, taking each juicy bite in contentment, licking away the droplets that clung to your lip. You’d been a vision and he’d had to leave before he snuck in a taste of his own. He didn’t want to scare you off with a meagre kiss in the mess hall before he could claim you properly.

This kiss though, with all the burning touches and wanton looks, all the buildup between the two of you has led to this moment being taken out on your mouth. There’s no finesse, no gentle touch, just pure want. Rex alternates between kissing you senseless and nipping your lips, revelling in the sounds that come out of your mouth.

He uses the grip on your hair to angle your head into a deeper kiss, and it sends a rush of desire through you, knowing that he’s the one controlling your pleasure.

Rex starts kissing down your neck, paying particular attention to a spot just under your jaw and the moan you give him lets him know exactly how much you enjoy it. You’ve grasped his shirt between your hands, needing something to hold on to as he traces your neck with his tongue, while your hips have started grinding up against him, legs spread wide to fit around his hips, but it’s still not enough.

Rex can see you struggle and decides to show you a little mercy. He slots one of his thighs between your legs, barely pressing against your core, looking down at your flushed form. “Come on mesh’la, ride my thigh.” You don’t need another invitation and start rubbing against him, undulating your hips as close as you can. Rex goes back to marking up your throat, nipping the place where your neck and shoulder meet.

While he’s content to let you find the friction you need, you realize something is wrong. Rex had ordered you to ride his thigh, but had kept it just far away that you’d only get a whisper of a touch against your core. You whimper in impatience and try to pull him closer, but he won’t budge. “Rex,” you implore him “in order to ride your thigh I need something to ride!” He bites down on your shoulder and you cry out in surprise.

“Don’t be a brat” he growls

You whine, high and desperate, hoping that Rex will understand what you need and give it to you. You’ve already been so good for him, why can’t he see that.

By the dark chuckle exhaled upon your skin he does, though he doesn’t speed up his ministrations, in fact he slows down. The pleasure you feel starts to trickle away and you feel like crying you’re so frustrated. You’d do anything at this point just to get off.

“Such a needy girl” he tsks "but doesn’t know how to ask nicely”

Ask. He wants you to ask him to let you cum on his thigh. Ask that he press closer so he can feel how wet he’s made you. The thought makes you dizzy with want.

“Rex, I need to cum on your thigh.”

“Still being a brat.” He makes a mock disappointed sound and moves his leg away. Nonono! This is the opposite of what you wanted. He continues before you can object, “Good girls don’t make demands, they ask nicely.”

Force take you now. Your panties are so wet it’s like the oceans of Kamino, you don’t think you’ll be able to salvage them after this. Biting your lip, you can feel how swollen it’s become after Rex’s kisses and you can only image how dark they’ve become, evidence of his desire for you. Your neck is covered with his marks and you wonder where else he could put that talented mouth to use. That thought spurs you on. “Please sir, please let me ride your thigh, I need to cum so bad.”

He hums, “No.”

You make a sound of distress, “But I asked nicely! Please Sir! Don’t leave me like this!” You sob out, heart clenching.

The hand that had been tracing patterns on your side reaches up and cradles the side of your face. You nuzzle into his palm, pleas falling from your lips in hopes to sway him, saying how you want to be his good girl, that only he can make you cum, pleasepleaseplease!

Rex waits until you’ve finished “No, you won’t cum on my thigh. You’re going to cum with my fingers stuffed deep in that pretty pussy of yours.” He kisses you until your whimpering in his arms “Understood?”

Kark it all! Rex was being a kriffing tease and you doubt he’d let up anytime soon

You nod eagerly “Yes! Please Sir! I want to cum on your fingers, please!”

He chuckles, “There’s my good girl” before sliding his hand down the front of your pants. His fingers are thick as they push your panties to the side and slide through your folds, collecting the slick gathered there. He pulls his fingers out and you can see your juices glistening on the first two digits, already dripping down.

“Already so wet for me mesh’la.” Rex says in awe, “and I’ve barely even touched you.” Swiftly he moves his hand back down to your core and before you know it, his first finger is already knuckle deep inside you. Your eyes roll back as you moan and Rex curses. “Kriff cyar’ika, I just slid right in.”

He slowly pulls his finger out before pushing back in, keeping his eyes on your face, looking for any twitch of discomfort, but all you feel is satisfaction. Finally, you’re getting exactly what you need.

Rex has removed the hand from your hair and braced his arm back on the wall above your head, giving him better leverage to fuck you with his hand. You start to pant as you feel your pleasure building up again, a slow burn that consumes you from the inside out.

When Rex adds a second finger you can feel a delicious burn as he stretches you out, picking up speed as he steadily thrusts his fingers, the room filling up with the mixed sounds of your moans and wet sounds of your arousal. Rex pumps his fingers faster, desperate to hear more “Keep making those beautiful noises cyar’ika! Show me how much you want me!” “I always want you, only you” you whine out, hips rolling with each thrust “I didn’t think that you’d want me.”

Rex drinks in your look of ecstasy, how he’s the one causing you to lose your inhibitions. “I want you, I have for a while. Didn’t think you’d felt the same until we sparred, when I had you under me, seeing those big eyes staring back, full of want.” He twists his fingers and finds that spot that makes you arch your back, pressing your chest against him, hands scrabbling for purchase on his shoulders. Your mouth drops open in a silent moan. “Knew then I’d give you everything I could just to keep those pretty little eyes on me.”

Your eyes snap back to his face, tears starting to blur your vision. Maker, you were so close! If Rex continued talking like he was, you’d be over the edge in no time, you’re already teetering with how close you are.

He continues as if he can’t hear your gasps and moans. “What would’ve happened” he murmurs, “if we hadn’t been interrupted. Would you have let me taste you cyare, spread those pretty legs nice and wide for me? I’m not a small man, it would be a tight fit, but you’d make it work, wouldn’t you?” He rolls his hips so you know exactly how big he is elsewhere, the motion pressing his fingers in deeper.

“I like that you’re big.” Stars, was that voice yours?

Rex makes a pleased noise. “What sounds would you have made for me, as I tasted you? Would you have let me fuck you on the mat, where anyone could have walked in? Let everyone hear how easily my cock would slide in, how wet I made you, that I was the only one who could make you feel that good.” He adds a third finger and you howl, uncaring if anyone hears you, too consumed with Rex and how he was playing your body like a fine-tuned blaster.

By now you’ve drenched his hand, all the way down to his wrist, soaking his fingerless gloves. You bet if he took his hand away he’d be dripping onto the floor. The squelching sounds fill the room as Rex thrusts even faster, and he groans low in your ear. There is a moment of gleeful satisfaction that you’re not the only one affected, before a hard thrust sends another gush of slick over his hand.

He curses again “Kriff, I could take you here right now and you’d let me. Soaking my dick, getting me all nice and wet while I fuck you against the wall.”

By now you’re a babbling mess, the only words you’re able to say are please!, and more!, and yes Sir! The coil in your belly is wound tight, ready to snap. Knees trembling, you clench down hard on his fingers, looking for that last little bit to carry you over the edge. Through the haze you can hear a chirping noise but don’t pay it any attention, too focused on how full you feel, Rex’s fingers filling you up.

Unfortunately, Rex does pay attention to the chirping noise, as it’s coming from the vambrace on the hand currently three-knuckles deep within you. An in-coming message.

“Just ignore it!” You plead with him, feeling too strung out to think logically.

Rex just shakes his head “You know I can’t do that mesh’la.” He sounds gruff as he answers, so you know he’s as unhappy as you about the interruption.

You burrow your wail of despair against his chest, muffling your sounds so he can answer his com. From the sounds of it, it seems like he’s needed to give an in-person debrief on the latest training session with the new recruits.

Oh all the times for command to call, and it would have to be when Rex is knuckle deep inside you and your orgasm is about to take you to hyperspace. All for an update about the shinies! Can’t they just read his report like everyone else! Kriff! The sound of the com is deafening and Rex pulls himself away, though he does so very slowly.

He starts making himself look presentable, smoothing out his shirt and arranging himself so his hard on is not so noticeable. You stare at him, wide-eyed, and you must be too finger-fucked frustrated because you blurt out “You’re going to leave me here? Without letting me cum?”

“Yes.” He turns a stern look towards you “and you’re not going to touch yourself when you get back to your bunk.”

Your jaw drops in shock and Rex smirks at you “I told you that you’d cum on my fingers, and that’s what I’m going to do after my meeting. So no getting yourself off.”

You know you’re pouting, but you can’t help it. “And then what? You come back, get me to cum, and then leave? I thought-”

Rex cuts you off “Thought what mesh’la?”

You look away, feeling embarrassed. “I thought that I was your good girl” you whisper.

A fond look crosses over Rex’s face “Oh cyar’ika, you are my good girl.” He steps closer, causing you to raise your eyes back to his face, “and because you’re my good girl you’re not going to touch yourself until I can take care of you.” He presses his forehead against yours, letting you see the sincerity in his eyes. “ Believe me cyare, once with you will never be enough.”

With that he steps back, keeping eye contact with you. With a mischievous look, Rex brings his hand that is covered in your slick up to his mouth, and sucks on the first two digits. His groan of satisfaction gets your legs trembling and your core clenching all over again.You continue to watch him as he cleans up the evidence of your arousal until nothing remains. Nothing except a damp glove.

When he’s finished he takes his fingers out with a slick pop, a feral smile on his face. His parting words lingering well after he’s gone.

“I’m only just getting started.”

To be continued.

Tag list: @samrubio @justanotherstarwarswhore @bvcketfvcker @grumpymuffinmama @justanothersadperson93 @fat-zygerrian

#I forgot the tags #slksdjfslkjs #Too excited to post this monster #First fic #Yay me #Getting some spicy times 👀#Rex getting reader all 💦#Captain Rex #Rex #Oldman Rex #Rebel!Rex #Rex x reader #Rebel Rex x reader

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lightsinthedistancee · 3 years

Text

Under the Cover of War: FO!Poe Dameron x Resistance!Reader

Pairing: FO!Poe Dameron x Resistance!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: “‘Let’s go,’ he murmurs. ‘Let’s run.’ His gaze is fixed on you, begging for this. He needs you—he needs you to be there for him so that he has a place in the galaxy, a place he would never have otherwise. ‘Please.’”

Following the destruction of the Hosnian System, a promise and a dire decision are made by you and Poe.

Warnings: Language

“Why?”

The single word is clipped, volatile, dangerously soft in nature. It’s a question, a plead, an accusation, all at once. It seems to scream in the silence, to imply a million other queries that Poe doesn’t want to answer.

He simply remains quiet as he stares at your back turned to him. You sit on the edge of the bed, breath shaking, refusing to even look at him.

He inhales, blinking rapidly. “Sweetheart—“

“Why?” This time, it’s a scream. The sound is ragged, painful, your voice cracking. It makes him flinch, makes him draw into himself.

The loud cry echoes, disintegrates as the seconds pass.

He wishes he could transport himself back to five minutes ago, before either of your holos had rung. Before the First Order had reported a victory to him, before the Resistance had reported a devastating, unfathomable loss to you.

He wants to return to when he’d laid beside you, running his fingers down your sides, when the memory of pressing you into the sheets was still fresh in his mind.

But somehow he knows that whatever the two of you have will never return in any way.

“How could you?” you whisper, the shock of five of the galaxy’s most populous planets being obliterated in mere minutes still in the process of shattering you to pieces.

Poe wants to shrink into the air, disappear in moments. He knows you’re crying, that you can’t handle it. He’d be lying if he said he himself was handling it at all.

“I…I don’t know what happened.” He stares at the sheets, tears running down his own face. He can’t imagine it. The deaths of tens of trillions. Their screams, the pain they must have felt in the blinding light of imminent death.

Your hands tighten into fists as you shake. Your form is locked in tension, perhaps about to abruptly turn around and strike him, perhaps about to break and collapse into a distraught pile of bone and flesh. “You’re a liar.”

The words are akin to a strike itself. He near hisses, unstable in his new knowledge. “Why the fuck would they tell me? I’m not even a colonel.” His volume rises, swirling in the atmosphere, ready to completely burst free. “I didn’t have a damn thing to do with it—“

“But you certainly have something to do with those who ordered it!” You finally turn to him. You’re livid. Eyes red with tears, lips in a tight line, a glare that threatens to break him.

And your statement is not something he can deny. He deflates, silent. He can feel your eyes on him expectantly, but nothing comes.

When enough time passes, you stand from the bed, grabbing your things from the bedside table. As your fingers delicately wrap around the blaster you regularly carry around, he briefly thinks that perhaps you’re about to turn around and shoot him.

But you don’t, and something new finds home beside your anger: a heartbreaking sense of disappointment.

It’s on instinct when his hand shoots out, grasping your arm. “No, wait…please. Don’t go,” he says quietly.

You’re all he has. There’s nothing more to say other than that. Life in the Order is a cold one, always has been. While he may not agree with the side you’ve chosen, you’re the sole warmth in his life, the sole radiant light.

You jerk in his grip, but he tightens it, eyes unashamedly pleading with you, begging you to not leave him.

Even in the place you always meet him, buried beneath layers of rock, surrounded by passages of clandestine activity necessary in your illicitness, his meetings with you never fail to be the only times he’s truly happy.

“Please…,” he pleads once more, thumb running over your knuckles.

A debate takes place on your features, and he can read you better than he can anyone else. He’s the person you’d let into your heart, the person you’d revealed every personal secret to. He’s the one who’d whispered ‘I love you’ one fateful night, the one to whom you’d whispered it back. He’s the one that had challenged your blind loyalty to any ideology, the one to whom you’d done the same.

He can see all those things viciously, ruthlessly grappling with the horrifying events that had just transpired: bodies being ripped to shreds, building being reduced to dust, life being annihilated in fire.

And in an act of emotional obscurity, the two opponents are shockingly close.

It’s evident which wins out when you limply fall back to the bed, body slumping to lie down, eyes tiredly closed.

“Then tell me why,” you whisper, barely audible.

“Why what?”

“I want to know why you joined the people who did…this.”

And at that simple request, he feels his walls rise. Even if they’d fallen long ago when he was around you, they’d never truly disappeared.

“I thought we don’t talk about stuff like that,” says Poe quietly.

“Well, I changed my fucking mind.”

He gazes around the room, reminded of the sole thing that prevents full, unconditional commitment to the other. The space they are in is a brutal reminder of the fact, for it presents itself in sets of two, an embodiment of duality.

Two blasters on top of the bedside table. One polished and new, the other dull and thoroughly used.

Two sets of boots clumsily scattered by the door. One shiny, lacking a single scuff mark, one that’s appearance suggests it’s been passed through several owners.

Two jackets. One with the hexagonal, sixteen-rayed symbol of the First Order, one with the starbird of the Resistance.

It’s a glaringly horrid representation of the two of you, never destined to be the same.

“Did your tongue also vanish along with the five planets?”

He slowly comes back to the present with your words, forcing away his disconnect.

It’s not something he can afford right now. Maintaining his privacy, hiding the events of his past, concealing the cause of his motives—he can’t afford any of that if he wants you.

And somehow, all he does want is you. You, you, you—to the point that he wonders if it’s unhealthy, if it’s even real and true, but that’s something he refuses to consider in the moment.

Even though you’d seen some of the darkness through him, he is certain that your loyalty to light is stronger, if only marginally, and that means he has to tell. He has to reveal.

“My mother,” he simply says, gaze unfocused. “She was a rebel pilot. She died.”

The slight stirring of your body freezes. He’d never talked of his family’s loyalties; he’d always given the impression that they’d passively existed in the deluge of light and dark that had overtaken the galaxy.

“She’s why I joined.” He flinches at the memory, grimacing at the pain he’d felt as a boy. “She died because of rebellion recklessness. Because of belief in blind hope.”

The anger—it’s simmering once more, bubbling higher, inching further and further to the edge of his chest.

And he can tell yours is too. Your fingers grip at the sheets as your eyes narrow. “Reckless…blind…hope?” He’s questioning your belief, accusing it of something dangerously irrational, and you yearn to lash back on instinct, to defend the beliefs you’d lived your life by—even as your own doubts of it conceal themselves in the background.

He laughs bitterly, his voice rising again. “Don’t kid yourself. That’s what the New Republic lived off of, and it was a fucking mess.”

You tense up, practically shrieking your next words, wholly, viciously attacking him back. “Who are you to say that—“

“There were people revolting in the streets!” he yells, his voice perhaps even louder than yours had been. “There were people in the Outer Rim starving! It was chaos—“

“And the First Order is what? Orderly?”

“They’re better than you and your—“

And he falls silent all of a sudden. He stops himself.

He knows where this is going. It’d happened and been resolved before, but he has a sneaking suspicion that that won’t be the case if the two of you continue down this road.

“Fuck,” he groans under his breath, his back slumped as he rubs his face with his hands.

“Me and my what?” you ask quietly.

He just shakes his head.

You fall back to your laying down position, head burying in the sheets, trying to block everything out. He’s right. He’s entirely right. The flaw in the Light, the flaw in the Republic, but you can’t bring yourself to denounce the loyalty you’d inherited.

He sniffles, hiding his tears behind his hands, and his figure—he knows it’s one of pure pain. As good as he’d gotten at hiding his emotions, they always seem to show themselves in your presence, no matter how hard he tries to defeat them, and it’s undeniable that you feel them to the fullest.

“You say ‘mama’ in your sleep sometimes,” you whisper all of a sudden.

At the revelation, he goes still. It’s an unsettling thought…that perhaps you’d known of his weakness long before he’d willingly showed you, long before he thought you deserved to know.

That maybe you’d heard the words of him crying out for his mother before you’d even known the slightest deeply-personal thing about him, when you’d only known the feeling of him inside you and the feeling of his lips on yours and the weight of his body as he slept beside yours.

His reluctance to look at you only increases tenfold when the shame floods in. The shame of a lifetime at this point—of weakness regarding his family, of putting blaster bolts in people who didn’t deserve them, of not being able to let go of his past, something he’d been striving for his whole life.

It all externally devolves into a mere fit of subtle trembles.

“Poe?” Your tone is soft now, gentle. You’re on your knees, sitting up, a single hand on the side of his face joining the space between the two of you. A certain mixture of concern and inquisitiveness finds home in your eyes, and for a second, he thinks your expression reflects one of a person staring at a beaten-down, once-aggressive animal.

“I regret it—joining the Order,” he simply says, voice cracking. The gas, plasma, fire, flesh, and bone of the destroyed system fill his imagination. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“Only if you mean it.” There’s still no sympathy to your voice, but there’s a softer edge to it, the kind that’s always existed but disappears in every fight.

“I do.” He leans back into the pillows, forearm over his eyes. It feels as if this has been going on for far too long, for he’s exhausted.

Your hand finds its way into his curls, tracing from his hairline to the base of his neck. It’s hauntingly reminiscent of what he’d felt so passionately and tenderly before the conflict had even begun.

“All darkness dies in the light,” you whisper.

It’s an ambiguous statement to many, but he automatically knows what you’re asking of him—you want his darkness to die in your light.

And while part of him begs and yearns to submit to your wish, something about your words perturbs him—the words unsaid. His darkness…the one he’d held for so long, you don’t want it to disappear, you don’t want it to transform, no, you want it to die. You want him to kill it.

“I can’t,” he says softly, fingers fumbling with the sheets, almost hoping to blindly find you.

“The Light Side’ll—“

“I’m done with the fucking sides,” he interjects, his words lined with a sharp edge. A puff of air leaves his lips as he desperately wishes for calm, one with at least some semblance of permanence. He finally looks at you, eyes now completely devoid of any anger or menace they’d held before, just the sadness of someone who’d made one too many wrong choices. “It’s just pain either way, isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” you admit, a brief expression of hesitance crossing your face. “But you have to choose.” The hesitance turns to anguish, a revelation in its most subtle form. “There’s more pain if you don’t, and perhaps…perhaps that’s why I chose my side.”

He props himself up on his forearms at the mere implication—the implication that your unwavering loyalty to the light is not so unwavering, that you’d gone head in like he had with his loyalty and was now beginning to doubt things.

“Some don’t choose—“

“And they suffer for it,” you interrupt, finishing his statement with your own thoughts. It’s something you’ve seen your whole life: those who don’t choose being made to do so—often in violence.

He laces his fingers with yours, delicately wrapping each of your digits around his palm.“We’ve suffered our entire lives, darling,” he muses. “Born into a galaxy at war, a brief respite, and then yet another one…just suffering, suffering, suffering…within us, around us…what’s a little more?”

The whole room seems to freeze as you peer at him, part curiosity, part doubt, part disbelief. “What are you suggesting?”

“I think you know,” he says softly. The warmth staring back at you is undeniably something you would die for.

“Say it.” Your whisper is said with the deepest conviction, awaiting the words that would cement your decision, perhaps a decision you won’t know until you hear the offer leave his lips.

“Let’s go,” he murmurs. “Let’s run.” His gaze is fixed on you, begging for this. He needs you—he needs you to be there for him so that he has a place in the galaxy, a place he would never have otherwise. “Please.”

Your breath shakes, just barely, contemplating, debating. There’s an inevitable weight to war, the kind that crushes people to pieces, and the temptation to run from such a force—it feels right. It feels right to be free, to live safer, to be with whom you want. “There’ll be sacrifices to make.”

“There’ll be sacrifices either way,” he insists, and you’re certain he’s right. “Darling….” His words fade off, and he surges forward, gently locking his lips with yours. It’s tender and pleading, the ultimate question asked once again through touch.

“Poe….” The way you say his name is filled with something decisive, something deliberate. The seconds pass. He waits. “Let’s go.”

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Taglist (for everything): @dark-academics-and-florals @theultimateslashgirl @princessxkenobi @djjarins @jitterbugs927 @whovianayesha | Taglist (for Poe): @synical-paradox @paper-n-ashes @spider-starry | This fic: @silkandribbons (i believed you expressed interest once; hope you don’t mind!) @spicemaidenfic (this just seems like your jam tbh)

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negasonicimagines · 3 years

Text

Revelation; Part Two (NSFW)

All the warnings and details you'll need are in part one. Enjoy!

As soon as they return to the mansion, Yukio and Ellie immediately go to their room. Wade gets up from where he was sitting on the floor, slowly stepping aside. The girls rush in to comfort you but a wall of scent leaves them dizzy with pheromones.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so glad you’re here,” you weep. The scent of your slick seems more intense, but maybe you’re just more aware of how turned on you are. The girls strip off their super-suits, joining you on the bed.

You practically tackle Ellie, burying your face in her neck.

“Mm, even better than I imagined…” you moan, starting to roll your hips so your soaking cunt can get the friction it needs on her thigh. Ellie carefully pushes you off of her, and you recline in the position you were before.

“Easy, sharpshooter. What the fuck happened? How are you in heat?”

“S-suppressants, not antidepressants, fake father, Wade,” you slur, explaining as best as you can.

“Wade,” Ellie and Yukio realize in unison.

“So, right now, you’re having not only your first heat, but a heat after years of taking suppressants,” Ellie fills in the blanks, and both she and Yukio look horrified.

“Mhm,” you confirm, “Need you. Both of you.”

“Of course, baby,” Yukio accepts, looking over you. Neither of them have seen you this stripped down before.

“Wait,” Ellie stops her, and you. “How do we know you actually want this? You’ve been really uncomfortable with the idea of sex until now, what if it’s just the heat? You literally said you don’t want to have sex today, like, two hours ago.”

“You don’t trust me?” You question, looking absolutely devastated.

“Y/N,” Ellie groans. “Of course I trust you, I just don’t want to hurt you. I love you. We love you.”

“It hurts. Please love me, Alpha,” you beg.

“Look at her, Ellie. She needs us,” Yukio adds.

“Fine. But we start out slow. Very slow. And if I get even a whiff of doubt or discomfort, we stop. Understand?”

“I need…” you whimper, clutching at your stomach as it continues to twist in pain.

“What is it, baby?” Yukio asks.

“I don’t know,” you sob, burying your face in your hands and squeezing your thighs together. “Just need it so bad, please.”

Both girls quickly shed their underwear, like the urgency of the situation is finally hitting them.

“So, the roses I smelled earlier…” Ellie trails off, feeling even worse. Not only is it not some other omega, it’s your heightened state of emotion, a sign of how much you want her and Yukio both.

Yukio gasps.

“Oh, Ellie, we can finally…” Yukio trails off.

“You’re gonna have to give a little more detail than that, Yukes. We’ve been looking forward to a lot of different things.”

Yukio whispers in Ellie’s ear, and the girl turns red before nodding.

“What are you gonna do to me?” you wonder.

“Well, if you want, we could both use our mouths on you at the same time,” Ellie reveals.

“Please,” you try to convince them to give you what you need. “Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely…” Yukio teases, like it’s not taking all her strength not to knot you right where you lay, propped wide open for the taking. It’d be so easy, and she could even try to have you to herself all week, and even though it’s probably impossible, you might have a baby. Oh, they’d be just the cutest, the perfect combination of her and you. What if you had twins? Or triplets? She’d never be able to tell them no once they flashed her your signature puppy eyes.

“Yukio,” Ellie snarls. “You’re panting. And drooling. She’s mine, too, remember?”

“Trust me, I remember,” Yukio snaps back.

“Alphas,” you whimper, and it’s like a switch flips. Their tongues battle for dominion over your most sensitive place, and your hips roll forward, desperate for more.

Ellie eventually concedes, giving your inner thigh some special attention that makes you squirm while Yukio devours you. The completely new sensations cause a tension to build in your stomach that you’ve only heard of.

“Oh my gosh, Ellie, Yuki- Ah! Ellie, Yuki- Ah! Ellie, Yuki- Oh, oh, oh!” you moan, embarrassed at how quickly you come undone.

“Oh, wow,” Ellie says. Yukio continues to lick up, well, everything, making the aftershock even more intense. “I- I didn’t realize you’d be that sensitive.”

“Never, ever, um, even by myself, ‘cause I never had any interest, because suppressants, so…”

“So, Yukio got to give you your first… Ever,” Ellie clarifies.

“U- Um,” you stutter, feeling a bit guilty for not making that clearer.

“You’re so adorable...” Yukio sounds almost reverent, and you taste yourself on her lips when they meet yours. You moan into the kiss, face burning under Ellie’s gaze and Yukio’s touch.

Ellie’s gaze turns into a glare as the kiss draws on, and soon that glare is joined by a growl that makes you gush. You pull back from the kiss, panting.

Yukio growls back, and your arousal intensifies even further, distracting the girls from their beginning turf war. You can’t help but wonder how many hickies you’re going to get in the next week.

“You really are an omega,” Ellie taunts.

“You like it when we growl?” Yukio adds.

They look like they’re ready to tear you to shreds in the best way.

“I guess it’s your turn,” Yukio remarks, sitting down next to you. “It’s still her first time, even if it won’t be the first time she-“

“Shut up,” Ellie snarls before going in for the kill, using her tongue to make you squirm and moan. She holds your hips down and your legs thrash around her, making you look the part of prey even more.

“Calm down,” Yukio suggests to you, stroking your hair. “It’s not like it’s ever gonna stop.”

“Oh fuck,” you whine, bucking your hips despite Ellie’s grip on them.

“That’s a good girl, fuck her face,” Yukio praises, taking one of your hands and putting it on Ellie’s head, holding the other. “She really likes having her hair pulled,” Yukio whispers in your ear. You get chills, but you do as she says.

Ellie groans into you, and at this point you really are fucking her face, your other hand having found its way into her hair.

“Oh my gosh, fuck, Daddy, I’m gonna cum,” you whine before unraveling again, hips still rolling like your life depends on it.

“Fucking called it.” Ellie grins proudly. “And she called me it. I think I win.”

“Oh, whichever way you slice it, I’m the one that ate our brave little be- omega first and made her fucking weep slick, so… Whatever small victories you can find, I suppose,” Yukio giggles.

“Yeah, but I’ll be the one to fuck her first,” Ellie counters.

“You really think so? I think it depends on who can get a condom on faster,” Yukio retorts.

“You trust me to pull out, don’t you, omega?” Ellie wonders, winking at Yukio.

“O-Of course. I mean, with the suppressants, even if you didn’t, it’s a one in a billion chance,” you remind her.

“Can I use my fingers to help you get ready?” Ellie asks.

“Uh-huh,” you agree, nodding as she slides one in, pumping, followed by another. Your breathing gets heavy again as she hits that divine spot over and over.

“Imagine my fucking cock hitting right there,” she breathes to you.

“Don’t wanna imagine, wanna feel it,” you plead. She adds a third finger. “S-so full, alpha…”

Yukio hands trail along your body carefully, as if you’re a priceless artifact she’s trying to appraise. She seems okay with letting Ellie have this, despite the fight she put up before. It’s probably the best compromise, you all know, because your first orgasm is something Yukio has that Ellie can never, now.

“Is this still okay?” Ellie wonders as she slips her fingers out of you, sliding them into Yukio’s mouth. The girl moans, cleaning them off eagerly.

“Yes, I promise,” you agree, and Ellie positions herself, unintentionally teasing your entrance. “Ellie, please.”

Her hips snap forward, but she’s careful not to push her rather swollen knot in. It throbs every time it presses against your entrance, where every nerve in her body is begging her to shove it in.

The two of you sync up so quickly it’s almost romantic, you meet her thrusts perfectly and her cock does feel amazing when it pushes up against that spot deep inside. She’s practically got you folded in half as you whine and whimper and moan.

You instinctively start to rub your clit, but Yukio pulls your hands up and away.

“You’ve had your turn, let us have ours,” she tells you rather calmly.

“B-but it’s too good, I need…” you weep.

“Oh- Oh f-“ A strangled noise catches in Ellie’s throat and you feel her cum spurt into you as she hastily pulls out. “Uh- Oh. Oh, wow.”

Yukio moves around you to get a look at whatever Ellie’s blushing over.

“You should be ashamed,” Yukio teases, playfully popping Ellie’s shoulder. “Giving our innocent little omega a creampie her first time. She looks really cute with you dripping out of her, though. Almost good enough to eat. Almost.”

Yukio pulls out her own member, and you watch her stroke herself, Ellie mouthing at her neck between their passionate kisses. Her strokes speed up gradually until ribbons of her orgasm splatter right onto where you’re starting to feel neglected, with a soft little moan from her that makes you throb even more.

“Fuck, it’s so pretty. Sit up, Y/N, look,” Ellie encourages. Her cum has mostly flowed out of you and onto the sheets, while Yukio’s paints you. Speaking of Yukio, she trails a finger up your tarnished slit, sliding it into your mouth. You taste the salty sweetness of all your juices combined and give a pleased hum, almost not wanting to let her finger go.

“Hmm… Now it looks good enough to eat,” Yukio confirms. “Wanna try to share again?”

“Absolutely,” Ellie agrees. The two girls lick up the mixture of their cum and your arousal as you tremble, squeaking and whining more than you actually moan, too sensitive to do much of anything other than lie there and take whatever they want to give.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip and your toes curl as you’re finally allowed release once more, but they don’t stop, despite your shaking.

“A-Alphas, what are you… What… I… Oh, oh, please,” you weakly implore them, so far gone that you’re not even sure if you’re asking them to stop or keep going.

After another orgasm, they come back up to check on you.

“So- So much,” you say, in response to “Are you okay?”

“So, I’m gonna go with water break time,” Ellie chuckles, opening up a bottle before opening your mouth with her hand. You let her help you drink.

“Good girl,” she praises, and you blush as Yukio stares you down.

“You should have a bath, too,” she suggests. “We can all take it together.” The jacuzzi sounds great for your aching muscles.

“Can you walk?” Ellie asks. She wasn’t particularly rough with you, but considering nothing that big’s ever been up there before…

You nod, already starting to feel normal, or, well, at least at what’s probably the baseline of this whole heat thing. You get up from the bed and immediately collapse into a heap on the ground, knees having turned to actual jelly at some point over the past hour.

The girls can’t help but snicker before helping you back into bed.

“I’ll go draw the bath. Your cuddle time got cut off earlier,” Yukio remembers.

“You’re doing amazing,” Ellie praises you once more, fingers running through your hair and stroking your face. “Such a good girl. Such a good omega. My omega.”

“My alpha,” you whisper back, before burying your nose in her neck. Ellie tightens her embrace.

“Thank you for letting us take care of you like this. You’re being so brave, sharpshooter, I- I know you were really nervous. I want you to know, y’know, as happy as I am you’re an omega— And that’s really, really happy, by the way. —I’d be just as happy right now if you were a beta. I love you. We love you, and we’re so grateful you trusted us with this.”

“Thank you. You smell good and I love you,” you tell her, not able to articulate much beyond that.

“You too,” she chuckles.

Yukio emerges from the bathroom, and Ellie helps you hobble over, both girls giggling and giddy at your stumbling.

“So, we’re probably gonna have to take another week off, huh?” Yukio notes, trying to sound sympathetic, but both girls can’t help their proud grins at how they’ve already fucked you to pieces and they’ve barely even started. This week is gonna be great, and so will the next, blissful and full of aftercare.

“Mhm,” you whimper. The girls help you into the bath, stripping off their remaining undergarments before joining you.

The warm water is such a comfort that your eyes involuntarily slip shut. Its embrace soothes your sore muscles, and your breathing slows. Yukio starts carefully scrubbing your arm with a lathered up loofah, holding your wrist like it’s the most fragile, priceless thing in the world.

“Hm?” You open your eyes, but Ellie slides your eyelids down with two fingers, stroking your cheek after.

“Shh… Just let us take care of you, okay? You’re always protecting us, keeping the den tidy, and you took us so well… Just relax, now.”

You do as you’re told and relax.

Ellie joins in washing you while Yukio hums softly.

“You’re so fucking pretty…” Ellie murmurs, the soft washcloth she’s using drifting down from your sensitive neck to your far more sensitive chest. You give a shallow, shaky sigh as each girl cleanses a breast, chills spreading throughout your body. Your heart flutters when Ellie’s washcloth meets your inner thigh under the water.

Yukio’s hand rests against your stomach, more specifically, your uterus.

“Yukes…” you sigh.

“I know,” she says quietly. “I was just thinking.”

It’s a bittersweet moment, but Yukio ends it before the bitter overcomes the sweet by gently washing your stomach with the loofah she was holding before. The girls switch positions and you whine needily. Your infertility can be discussed later, when tensions aren’t quite so high.

“Oh, sweetpea, are we doing something wrong?” Yukio questions teasingly.

“N- No,” you admit, brows furrowing. “I just- I-“

You’re already too blissed out to string together a coherent sentence, but you need more.

“Yeah, we can do that,” Ellie understands. You keep your eyes closed as fingers slip up and down your slit, leaning into the touch. The steam of the bath blends yours and your alphas’ scents, clouding your perception of where each girl is. You try to get a peek, but Ellie quickly, gently reminds you: “Eyes closed.”

Your chest is slowly, sensually massaged, the palms of whichever girl is doing so rubbing up against your nipples perfectly.

The alpha who was teasing you below the water before now slides her fingers inside you, making you gasp softly.

“Hmm… Good omega,” Yukio murmurs, closer to your ear than you thought she was, before nipping at it. You yelp in surprise, but the sensation has you feeling even tinglier. You lean towards Yukio, wanting to obey their limitation of your sight, but needing the comfort of knowing where each of them is. You cling to her arm, she’s now only massaging one breast and using the other hand to stroke your face.

The fingers inside you, which you’ve determined by process of elimination are Ellie’s, curl into that spot, hard, and you moan before you can quiet yourself.

“I think someone’s starting to feel ignored…” Yukio jeers, and you hear an indignant “Hmph!” from Ellie. “How about this?”

Yukio pries you off of her, and you hear movement in the water. Soon after, she pulls your back to her chest, allowing you to recline. The feeling of the alpha’s skin against yours is heavenly. She starts to massage your chest again, and Ellie resumes her activities as well, now from in between your legs.

“This is perfect,” Ellie agrees. “You are. Both of you.”

“Thank you,” you and Yukio both sigh.

You start to get restless as the girls continue to stimulate you, letting out little whimpers that sound more like impatience than pleasure.

“What is it, love?” Yukio wonders, so close to your ear again. You shudder before answering.

“Want, um… Um… Y-you… You know.”

“To cum?” Ellie asks.

“Y-yeah, but…” You rock against Yukio’s hardness, which is pressed against your back.

“Ngh, oh, okay, yeah,” Yukio agrees. “Lean back.”

You lean back, moving up and bracing yourself against the rim of the jacuzzi before sliding down onto Yukio’s dick, eyes rolling back as you’re filled by an alpha once more.

“W-wait, with this position, we could…” Ellie trails off, and you can sense Yukio’s smirk.

“I know.”

“W- What is it?”

“Well, uh, if you’re okay with it, Yukio and I could try to fit inside you at the same time,” Ellie suggests.

“That sounds nice, but…”

“But?”

“First time having Yukio,” you quietly say.

“Oh… Okay, babe, that makes sense. Maybe later?”

You nod eagerly, and Yukio starts to move a little, hooking her hands under your knees to maintain more control over you.

“E- Ellie.”

Yukio growls.

“N- No, I just… Ellie, could you rub my-“ You’re cut off by a moan that’s a mix of pleasure and pain as Yukio thrusts harder, resenting the lack of attention. “A- Alpha, I’m yours. I’m yours.”

“I- I know, sorry. Such a good omega,” Yukio quickly apologizes, sprinkling kisses all over your neck and shoulders as she takes it down a notch. Ellie summons the courage to touch you despite Yukio’s possessive burst, and you’re on cloud nine once again. “You feel so good.”

Eyes still closed, you’re caught off guard when Ellie kisses you, but you respond quickly, tangling your fingers in her hair and moaning into her mouth.

“Love you,” Ellie whispers against your lips before kissing you some more.

“El, go faster, I think she’s close,” Yukio tells your shared lover, and she obeys. Your moans rise in pitch and volume but due to your position there’s not much you can do other than take what you’re given.

“Yukio, Yukio, Yukio,” you whine in sync with her thrusts, squirming in an attempt to meet both Yukio’s motions and Ellie’s hand.

You don’t last much longer, and the way you tighten around Yukio causes her to finish as well, burying her face in your neck and groaning; likely resenting the fact that she can’t bury her teeth there, not yet.

“Well, so much for gentle aftercare,” Ellie chuckles, stroking your cheek, which honestly feels as sensitive as the rest of you.

“S-sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

Ellie helps you off of Yukio, and you nuzzle into her, embracing her.

“You two are the best alphas ever,” you mumble, eyes growing heavy again.

“We’re the only alphas you’ve had,” Ellie skeptically responds. You whimper at the perceived rejection. “Oh, but thank you. You’re sweet.”

“More than just sweet,” Yukio argues, pulling the plug on the jacuzzi. Ellie holds you as the tub drains, so you don’t get too cold, while Yukio hunts down some towels and your robes. Pink satin for her, black flannel for Ellie, and a plush F/C one is yours.

The girls assist you as you get out of the tub, wrapping you in your robe and helping you to bed before equipping theirs.

Being bundled between them is enough to keep the worst of your heat pains at bay.

“Can I open my eyes now?” You wonder, and the girls chuckle endearingly.

“Yes, Y/N,” Ellie permits, but it seems as though you could’ve done so or at least asked much sooner, based on her tone. “I said yes.”

Your eyes stay closed, so heavy that you don’t even wanna bother yet.

“Babe, stay awake. We need to talk,” Ellie insists.

“About what?” Yukio asks curiously.

“The, uh.. The thing Wade stopped her from doing.”

“Jus’ thinking about it,” you correct.

“And the Supreme Court is ‘just thinking’ about overturning Roe v. Wade. It’s still a fucking problem,” Ellie argues.

You shake your head.

“I have real medicine now, I’ll be fine.”

“You still hid it from us,” Yukio says softly, tearfully. “We- We failed you. You didn’t feel like you could tell us, your alphas.”

“Being my alphas is what made me not want to tell you. Because you can’t- Because- Because I knew it would be torture for you both if I had a problem you couldn’t fix; a need you couldn’t provide. I just wanted to protect you.”

“Sharpshooter…” Ellie looks heartbroken, and the devastation that both girls reek of makes you want to lock yourself away (or worse) so that you’ll never hurt them again.

“I’m- I’m sorry. I never meant for you to find out.”

“That’s not the problem here,” Ellie disagrees.

“Isn’t it? If you two never found out, you wouldn’t be unhappy about anything right now. I ruined this.”

“No,” Yukio snarls, wrapping her arms tighter around you, as if they can protect you from yourself. “You’re good. We… I told you, we were the ones who made you feel like it wasn’t safe to be honest with us. We’re proving you right the longer we talk about this before you’re ready to. Don’t you agree, Ellie?”

Ellie nods, seeming to finally understand.

“Can you at least promise that if there’s any other time you feel like you did then, you’ll talk to someone you trust, even if it’s not us?” Ellie requests.

“I can do that,” you concede.

“Thank you,” both girls reply, and Ellie moves a little closer, maneuvering her arms so that she’s embracing both you and Yukio, who’s spooning you.

Between the drowsy scent of petrichor, the nostalgic scent of a campfire, and your own relaxing lavender aroma, the three of you are finally soothed, and able to rest before continuing to contend with your first heat.

The next week is nothing short of an absolute fuckfest. Sure, you all take breaks for food, water, showers, et cetera. But, on what should be the final night of your heat, something causes you to stir.

The absolute need that came with your heat had waned over the week, but now it seems to be back with full force. You squirm in your half-sleep, trying to ignore it, but sense that your girls are already awake.

“Baby,” one of your alphas whispers. You’re draped across them both, all of you naked and entangled. You’re not even sure where you end and they begin right now, let alone which is which.

“Can we touch you?”

“Mhm,” you agree sleepily.

Their hands wander comfortingly, making it easier for the sandman to lure you back into his arms, but one of the alphas is bold enough to slip her fingers inside of you, sliding them right back out for some reason.

“Wow…”

“That is… A lot of slick.”

Oh.

You whine, spreading your legs for whichever one of them will touch you, it really doesn’t matter. You’re guided into one of their laps, whoever it is feels huge with no prep.

“Please just knot me so we can sleep, s’not like I can get pregnant anyways,” you request.

“Mmkay, sharpshooter, if that’s what you want.” So, it’s Ellie fucking you. That’s nice. Hers is a little shorter than Yukio’s, but she’s thicker. You fidget around, adjusting to her girth before finding that perfect angle and just bouncing.

“You look so pretty riding our alpha like that,” Yukio quietly praises, making you shiver. She plays with your nipples, hardened in the cool night air, while she touches herself. You resent your current position for limiting your sight of the other alpha, but you wouldn’t trade Ellie’s embrace for anything. “Touch that clit for us, won’t you? Cum all over her cock. Maybe you’ll even squirt again. That angle is normally what does it for you, isn’t it?”

“Oh, Daddy,” you sigh, obeying.

“No, baby, Ellie’s your daddy. I’m your mommy.”

“M-Mommy,” you whimper, continuing to squeak and moan for your two lovers as you clench harder and harder around Ellie, sinking your teeth into her scent gland as you three finish, nails digging into her already scratched-up back. When you relax, Ellie pushes her knot in. “S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to without asking,” you apologize, pulling away with a mouth full of blood that both girls are just dying to taste.

“No, babe, you know I wanted you to do that.” Ellie kisses your lips, cleaning them. “Don’t worry. Can you bite Yukio, too?”

“Of course! But, um, how am I gonna get to her?”

“Don’t worry, I can wait,” Yukio reassures you both.

“But- But you’re mine, too,” you insist. “I’m yours, remember?”

“Baby, of course I remember. Maybe- Maybe I could just bite you for now, and then you can bite me and Ellie can bite you in the morning? That way everyone has a turn.”

“When are you two gonna bite each other?”

“We can do that in the morning, too,” Yukio explains. In her drowsiness, she’d forgotten that part. “Are you ready?”

“Y-Yes, Alpha,” you stutter, because while you’re ready, you’re still nervous. Yukio picks a spot with her teeth, gently pressing, as if to ask you and Ellie, ‘Right here?’

You nod.

“That’s good, Yukes,” Ellie agrees, and the other girl sinks her teeth in deep.

You moan in pleasurable pain, and Ellie’s hands grab at your hips, feeling you flutter around her.

“Fuck,” she snarls, tensing up with you until Yukio’s no longer clamped down on your neck. The pink-haired girl licks up the blood, and you start to writhe, turned on all over again.

“One more time?” you request meekly, like Ellie’s dick isn’t literally locked inside of you.

“Of course,” Ellie consents, needing it just as much as you do.

Despite your now-limited range of motion, you carefully gyrate your hips. Yukio presses against you from behind, embracing you but also letting a hand slip down, fingers rubbing circles on your clit.

“That’s it, ride that knot like a good little omega,” Yukio taunts you, and you can feel her touching herself again.

“Your good little omega,” you moan.

“Ours indeed,” Ellie reminds you both, fucking up into you as you continue. Your breathing deepens and you clutch Ellie’s shoulders tighter, burying your face in the crook of her neck once more. “Close, sharpshooter?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, the three of you entangled once again as Yukio strokes her cock and your clit, the heat radiating off of all of you intensifying your scents. “So close, wanna cum so bad,” you beg.

“Come on, baby, you can do it,” Yukio encourages. “Cum all over her.”

You whine as Yukio’s strokes become quicker for the both of you. Feeling the hand she��s using to get herself off brush against you turns you on even more, just knowing she’s getting off on this makes it even better. You can feel Ellie pulse inside you as her breathing also becomes labored.

“Cum with me, omega, please,” Yukio murmurs against the back of your neck, and you shudder, finally finishing. “Good girl… Good omega… Good girl…” Yukio sighs praise as she comes undone as well, Ellie’s orgasm falling somewhere in between yours and Yukio’s.

Ellie reclines with you on top of her, with Yukio nestled between her arm and her body. Both alphas embrace you, and the three of you finally fall back asleep.

#a/b/o #yukisonic #yukisonic x reader #yukio x reader #ellie phimister x reader #negasonic teenage lesbian #negasonic teenage warhead x reader #yukio imagine #yukisonic imagine #negasonic teenage warhead imagine #ellie phimister imagine #poly x reader #poly imagine #wlw x reader #wlw imagine #omega!reader

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egotheplanet · 4 years

Text

Betrothed (Gladiator!Eren Jaeger x Princess!Reader)

{Part 1 of my Mystical Realm AU Masterlist}

Summary: Eren Jaeger is a gladiator with the stage name ‘Titan’ who wins your hand and defends your honor in a match against the rival kingdom of your land.

Word Count: 3k

TW: Blood, Violence, Arranged Marriage, Fainting, Creepy Step-Father, Lots of Commas

The screams of the crowd are deafening as you approach the Royal-Access-Only entrance of the arena. Your step-father, ruler of the Kingdom of Chandovich, sent a request through his most trusted advisor. All he explained to Sir Rivaille, was to escort you to the match. No amount of questions you proposed to the knight would reveal any new information, since he only knew as much as you did.

He’s never once done this before. The king and queen are both well aware how much you hate the brutality of it all. You squint at the bright light of the end of the hallway and you ponder why he wants you there now. The only thing you know for certain is that his favorite gladiator is fighting on the kingdoms behalf today.

Eren Jaeger.

An undefeated beast of a man going for his 60th consecutive win. The match today is against the rivaling kingdoms champion, the Beast as he is aptly called. Your father always places a delicious incentive for the winner and is known for keeping his word.

Your mind swirls with wonder and your stomach sinks with anxiety while you think about what he promised today and what it has to do with you being there. As you enter the royal box seat, the view of adoring fans and your fathers back enters your view. The clanging of metal swords against shields assaults your ear drums. The seats are on the floor level and this close to the stage, you can see the sweat rolling off the fighters’ bodies.

The Titan, Erens well earned stage name, beats his iron against the mans shield repeatedly without wavering. His opponent, who is many times his size, is kneeling and clearly struggling albeit refusing to give up. Your kings of opposing lands stand at the same time since the match is about to end. The already roaring crowd is lively, people in the stands holding signs and throwing food and flowers into the ring in support of their respective fighter. Children can be seen on their parents shoulders in efforts for better views.

You finally walk to his side and the crowd goes wild at the sight of you. Your crown digs into your finely plaited hair, adding to your growing headache which spawned from the loud atmosphere, as you bow ever so slightly to show respect for the king. The Titan throws one final blow, slicing the challenger from his neck to his rib cage. Effectively chopping off his arm. The man falls to his knees before the rest of his body hits the ground; bleeding out though you refuse to look and see. The crowd goes berserk and Eren drops his blood soaked sword to the ground with a clatter. His chest heaves as he attempts to catch his breath. Sweat drips from his forehead down his neck and finally onto his chest. His hair, wildly unkempt and freely falling, sticks to his face. Blood covers most parts of his body.

He takes no time reveling his victory before he kneels on one knee. His forearm rests atop of it, his long brown hair covering his face as he bows his head to your father as a sign of acknowledgment.

Your father looks down at you proudly with an almost undetectable hint of an apologetic gaze. Your brow quirks in question and you part your lips to inquire as to why he looked this way, but his voice booms over the theater to make an announcement— cutting you off before you began.

“Never in my years as King of Chandovich have I seen a greater gladiator in this theater. And never once have I seen such an important match end so quickly.” The crowd is dim to hear the speech and you can hear your heart hammer against your rib cage. “Our appropriately named Titan fought well against his opponent from Vestotua. Perhaps the promise of such a grand prize gave him more of a reason to win, hm?” The crowd cheers and you frown, perplexed as to why your father brought you out here to see the end of a match.

And the allusion of your presence being such a prize.

“Well I’m proud our homeland remains victorious in this prestigious arena. And beyond pleased to announce that Mr. Jaeger has not only won his freedom.. But a title! Congratulations, Titan, your fighting years are over and your years being a member of the royal court begin today!” He claps and nods down at the man.

The onlookers cheer for the story of a commoner becoming something better. Stories of this caliber always benefit commoner-castle relations for years.

Jaegers jaw visibly clenches in disdain and he stands, the crowd audibly hushes as he grabs his sword, pointing it toward the king. They erupt in gasps and some throw a few boo’s.

Knights Rivaille and Kirschtein grip the hilts of their swords in preparation to defend the crown.

“That’s not all I was promised. Make good on your word, King.” The Titans voice is venomous and your father smirks slightly at the audacity.

“Dear boy, where do you think the title comes from? How low of me do you think that I would not keep my solemn word? The princess is all yours! Do forgive the lack of a bow atop your gift.” The crowd laughs loudly and the knights beside you tense with unease.

Your jaw slacks and your chest heaves as you look at your father in shock. The jewels and fine fabrics covering you feel heavier than cement blocks.

“What? I—“ Your voice is panicked and soft as disbelief coats your throat.

He pats you on the back, pushing you forward to the edge of the viewing box. The fighter steps ahead and bends ever so slightly so he’s eye to eye with you.

His chest continues to heave and his nostrils flare, sending hot air onto your face. He smells of blood, booze, sweat and of the barn animals he sleeps beside at night. Teal irises glare deeply into your e/c ones until you look away, too frightened to speak or move. His rough, blood covered hands reach over the edge to grasp yours.. tenderly? Hard calluses gently bore into the soft flesh of your freshly manicured hands. You wouldn’t expect such a light touch from such a brutish man with a reputation as his.

“...Good. I’ll collect my things and be back for her later.” He breathes out, the hot air again hitting your cheek from the proximity. He turns and strides away, warm hands finally leaving yours. You find yourself growing instantly cold without him before you. You clasp your hands together in front of you to savor the warmth.

The king chuckles deeply and slaps your backside hard causing you to flinch and whimper slightly. Just a small portion of the ‘affection’ your step-father gives you.

“Your things? Not to worry, boy! We have plenty of hay and pigs at the castle.” At the word ‘pigs’, he snatches your arm and flails it in the air.

The crowd roars in laughter and the gladiator halts his steps, visibly trembling in anger before continuing to walk to the fighters exit. He doesn’t look back or respond to the taunt.

You frown deeply and tears burn the bottom of your eye-line. Your heart and stomach ache because you’re being given away to a monster. Because your father views you as nothing more than a cheap gift for heathens. Because the man you’re going to marry is a murderer.

Because... he’s being as poorly treated by your king as you are. That thought sneaks it’s way in and you shake it away with a tremble.

Because he is probably going to treat you worse than you could ever imagine.

The scent of blood evaporating in the midday sun hits your nose harshly. Your head swirls and the sunlight dims impossibly dark. An unexpected eclipse? No..

Your hands and feet grow freezing cold and the breath expels quickly from your chest in one large wheeze. In all but an instant, you feel yourself falling backwards uncontrollably. But that’s all you feel before you completely lose consciousness.

The crowd gasps and the knight protecting your father leaps forward, catching you in his arms. Your only friend in the castle, Sir Kirschtein, furrows his brow in worry as he lifts you up bridal style. Preventing any serious injury to your body, he hugs you close to his armored chest.

The king rolls his eyes and sighs, hands in the air while he shrugs before slapping them down at his sides.

“Women are such frail creatures, aren’t they?” The crowd murmurs worriedly about their beloved princess. The kings eyes narrow as he yells; “I said, women are such frail creatures, aren’t they!!” the crowd pauses for a beat before erupting into forced laughter.

Jean clenches his teeth and begins walking out, his grip on you tight and protective.

The king taps his shoulder and he turns ever so slightly.

“Majesty?” Jean looks down into his eyes, almost begging him to try something. The knight stands a good few inches taller than the monarch.

“Ahem.. Yes, well. Take her to bed and ensure the handmaidens have gathered all her necessary things for her new home in the countryside. Ensure her meeting with the beast goes well or I’m sure I will get an earful from the lady Queen.” He rubs his temples in annoyance at the thought.

The knight nods instead of speaking, worried his tongue will be shaper than he intends. As much as he wants to defend your sacred honor, his head is on the line and he cannot protect you from beyond the grave.

When you awaken, you’re in your room. The sheer canopy of your bed filters the light from the windows smoothly. Your head rushes with blood and your eyes feel as if they could roll out of your skull. Jean is sitting in an elegant chair to your left, holding your hand very gently.

“How are you feeling, highness?” His voice is very soft so as not to hurt your head further but the worry trickles through his words feverishly.

Your face flushes in embarrassment as you attempt to sit up. You make it without too many problems, sitting back against the headboard and goose down pillows. Your hand rubs the back of your head where the source of the throbbing is coming from.

“Out of it.. Please tell me I dreamt all of that or I may begin to weep.” Your voice softly trembles as you recall the earlier events.

Jean looks sorrowful as he lowers his gaze.

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N. There was nothing I could do.”

You bite your lip, closing your eyes in defeat and nod once.

You’ve been trained your entire life to become a good and fair maiden. Good enough to be handed off in some sort of deal later on in life as a shining and glorious gift. You’ve grown up knowing you’d become a political tool sooner or later.

You’d just hoped it would’ve been later. Much, much later. To a prince or someone stately at least!

“I never thought I’d be handed off to some.. some monster. I thought the least the king could offer me after a life of subjection was a choice in when I get offered up. But now I’m being forced into the life of a common street dog.” You put your face in your hands as the tears finally spill over.

A deep voice calls to you from the shadowy end of your room.

“So which is it, princess? Am I a monster or a street dog?” Eren leans against your dresser; his arms crossed against his chest, eyes glaring into your silhouette.

You gasp and look up, seeing the outline of him grow larger and hearing his heavy footsteps as he walks to the end of your bed.

Jean growls, clenching the hilt of the sword on his hip. “That’s close enough, Titan.”

Eren stops immediately and sighs.

“I’m sorry, princess.”

Both you and the knight look at each other before resetting your eyes to the commonly unruly man.

As the light encompasses him through your sheer curtains, you see he’s been cleaned and redressed. The deep chocolate colored hair is tied back with a small braid running into the messy bun. His shirt is a fluffy cuffed cotton with buttons trailing down the front. His pants are black, long and high waisted, accentuating his body’s firm frame. However, the teal eyes from arena remain the same.

“What was that you said?” You whisper, not trusting your ears fully.

“I’m sorry you’re being given away like this. Forced into a marriage with me, I mean. I honestly didn’t want to fight for you at all.” Jean scoffs at this.

“Bastard.” He murmurs.

“I only wanted freedom.”

Your eyes widen as you recognize the feeling.

You listen religiously as he begins to explain the predicament he was placed in.

“The king promised me before the match that if I won against our rival land, I’d be free. He never mentioned anything about winning your hand. Until..” He trails off and looks to Jean.

“Until the opposing King of Vestotua said that wasn’t a good enough prize for a fight of this magnitude...” The good knight finishes for him.

You look beside you to your most trusted ally, hand gently gripping his forearm as it rests atop your red and gold stitched duvet.

“King Gnowles said the only prize worthy enough would be your hand, princess.” He looks up apologetically. “If they won, you had to marry their fighter to prove how submissive our kingdom is when it comes to Vestotua making commands. But if we won, you belong to our gladiator to make things even.” Jean says through clenched teeth. His hand digs into your comforter in a death grip, probably envisioning the kings throat.

Eren walks around your square shaped bed to sit beside you. Your body leans toward him as the bed dips in his favor. A hand reaches out slowly to take place on your shoulder but hesitates when you flinch away. He places the warm appendage on your shoulder after giving you a moment to prepare.

“This isn’t what I wanted. I tried to opt out, please believe me. But the king said you’d automatically go to them if I forfeit. I definitely mulled over forfeiting anyway, but their challenger started..” he shakes his head and puts his lips together in disgust. “Saying things... What he would do to you once you were his. Once you ‘belonged to him’.” He quickly stands again and the contact is lost between you both.

Your heart flips.

Whether from his recount or the feeling of his hands on you, you’re unsure.

He walks to your window which overlooks the seaside and slams his palms on the windowsill.

He growls as he stares out at the free rolling waves.

“I decided then that I would fight for you. We’re all born free. From the day we are born, we are free. It doesn’t matter how strong those who deny us that freedom are. A clerk, a knight, hell, even a king. A human being cannot belong to anyone! I’m willing to protect your freedom no matter what. You think I’d let some disgusting rat own and defile you? Not on your life!” He whips around to face you at the last line, his right hand clenched into a fist to prove his virtue. His voice is raised and posture straight as he proudly exclaims what he believes in.

For some reason.. you feel... content.

He genuinely wants you to be safe. And free. That’s more than ever could’ve be said about your step father. Even your own mother agreed to this, so you’re told. The only person in the entire castle who thinks of you as an autonomous-breathing person is Sir Kirschtein.

Up until now that is.. the man you’re betrothed to is willing to offer you your independence with his life. Your heart flips again as his eyes lock with yours.

“I-I...” you stutter and stare up at him in awe.

He feels his cheeks flush when he notices the stars in your eyes. He averts his gaze, turning around in an attempt to remain valiant.

“Look.. We do have to get married and you do have to come live with me in a house provided by the kingdom. It’s on private land over the hills. B-But that’s the only thing you have no choice in! I vow to never make you do anything you don’t want to do. I’ll take care of the land and the livestock so you can have your own life. I’ll stay out of your way as much as possible. I’ll build whatever you want and obtain whatever you like. Just..” he makes a noise sounding like a hesitant scratch in the back of his esophagus. “Just promise you won’t call me a monster or a street dog again.” He looks back up at you with pain in his eyes.

You can tell from his previous speech about freedom that he’s had a rough life. After all he’s willing to do for you, after all he’s already done, the least you can do is honor this wish.

“As you desire.” You speak softly and angelically as your body tries to stand.

“H-Hey you should be resting!” Jean tries to grab you before you get up but you move too quickly.

Your feet are wobbly, sure, but you confidently walk and stand in front of your future husband. You turn him around to face you by placing your hands on his shoulders. You smile warmly up at him.

“We can make this work, Eren Jaeger. I truly believe we can.” You reach forward and grab his hands in the same gentle manner he did at the theater.

This time it’s his turn to flush all shades of pink as he looks down into your eyes. “I’m going to do my best to make you as happy as you’re making me by freeing me from this castle.” You squeeze his hands comfortingly and your eyes begin to water from joy, the smile never faltering from your cheeks.

Perhaps you’re better suited to a life on the seaside with The Titan than you are to a life as a confined princess.

With a wedding planned for the morning, the two of you cannot wait to find out.

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ffangirlingsince2001 · 4 years

Text

Eyes on the Glass

Kinktober: Day 6, Mirrors

Loki x Reader

A fight between lust and self-deprecation ensues, all with the help of Loki’s room a mirrors.

Warnings: SMUT, fingering, a little choking, angst, self-deprecation, fluff

If there was one thing you knew about Loki it was that he liked mirrors. His bedroom was like a funhouse. Instead of paintings, ornate mirrors he would never admit he had bought from a mortal thrift store cover every inch of his walls. He collected shards and laid them across his windowsills until the room looked like a kaleidoscope. Even at night the reflective glass collected the stars and threw them across the room.

One day you had asked him why. He claimed it was because it reminded him f the long hallways and glamorous tea rooms he had grown up in, but you still believed it was just because he liked to look at himself. Not that you could blame him, someone so beautiful shouldn’t be denied the right to reflect across so many surfaces.

It was a completely different story for you. Before you had even met Loki and his mirrors you could barely stand to look it one. From the moment your reflection was staring back at you, you couldn’t help but notice the flaws clustered across your face. Old acne scars and cheeks that turned red too easily were only the tip of the iceberg. Some days you even went as far as unscrewing the light bulbs in your bathroom, just so you could go about your day in peace.

And now you were living amongst the prettiest people in America, it just wasn’t fair.

Loki had been the target of your affection for months. Once you were able to get over the nasty little thought of what he had done to New York and he started treating you like an actual human being, it was impossible to stop your torrent of feelings for the god. So, stuck in a state of pining and self-deprecation. It didn’t help that the woman that flocked to his side were the utter opposite of you. Slender where you were muscular, smooth where you were rough, and graceful where you were awkward.

You thought you knew pain, but it seemed that nothing compared to the sound of Loki leading a new girl to his bedroom night after night. You wanted to move your room, there were plenty of others but the only thing worse than listening to Loki’s conquests was the idea that he would know you were hurt. He was your friend, and moving would not only ruin your friendship, but you were sure it would only make you more miserable.

And so, with all your pining and misery you were spending yet another evening home alone with only a glass of wine and another trashy romantic drama for company. You used to like time spent alone, but now it seemed like that was all your time.

Beneath the layers of sadness and mundanity it was no surprise that when a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts you jumped about a mile high.

“Loki,” you gasped with a laugh, clutching your heart with a trembling hand, “I didn’t realize you were home.” Quickly you gave him a once over, taking in the casual clothes he had chosen for the evening, nothing like the black suits he normally chose when he went hunting.

“I decided to spend the night with you if that’s alright?” he said and your heart nearly jumped through your ribs as you tried to remain calm enough to give him an answer.

“Of course, I’d love nothing more,” you replied, folding your feet beneath you, offering him a spot on the loveseat. He smiled and accepted. You tried not to notice the feeling of the couch shifting as he sat or the way he patted your leg in the most ‘let’s just be friends’ way possible. “Do you want some wine?” He nodded and you jumped off the couch, racing towards the kitchen for an extra wine glass; thankful for the excuse to catch your breath and slow the heartbeat you know he could hear.

You returned to the couch and sat on the opposite end, practically cuddling with the armrest.

“Y/N, come, sit closer,” he instructed and nervously you moved closer. He smiled and pulled you close, wrapping an arm around you and tugging your feet over his lap. After a few moments you relaxed and reveled in what was happening. You gave yourself a subtle pinch, just to check if it was a dream but nothing had ever seemed realer.

Eventually the movie drew to a close and the two of you were absolutely trashed over the expensive dessert wine you had snuck from Tony’s special stash. He had managed to pull you into his lap, and you were both laughing about nothing. You met the man’s eyes and suddenly silence engulfed the room. You tried to turn away, but something stopped you, something soft and sweet, something that couldn’t possibly be his lips pressed against yours. It couldn’t possibly be that sort of something, and yet it was.

Kissing Loki was better than you had ever imagined. The way his hands held you and the way he seemed to murmur confessions against your lips sent your heart into a whirlwind. You’re not exactly sure how it all happened after that. One second you were straddling him, hips rolling forward as he ravished your mouth and the next, he was carrying you to his bedroom, legs still wrapped around his waist. It wasn’t until he tossed you on the bed that you seemed to sober up.

Those cursed mirrors were everywhere, and they were all staring at you, with deep, hateful eyes. In a panic, you shoved him away, gasping for air.

“What, what is it?” he asked but you were to busy staring. What on god’s earth were you doing here? Scurrying out of bed you made a break for the door.

“How could I be so stupid. If I wanted to be a fool there are easier ways to do it,” you muttered to yourself, throwing open the door. Your room was so close your fingers were brushing the doorknob when a pair of strong arms pulled you back.

“Y/N, what have I done?” he asked, but shame kept you silent. You just wanted to close your eyes and forget you had ever seen such a sight. “Y/N, please.” God, he was pleading now. He sounded like you were causing him pain, like he wanted to look at you.

“I can’t, not with the mirrors,” you whispered, watching his face with dismay. He raised an eyebrow before his face was filled with an angry understanding.

“Y/N, do you not believe you are beautiful?”

“You’re drunk,” you choked out with an angry laugh, but he shook his head.

“Mortal wine does nothing to me, and even if it did, I have never been more sober. Now, I asked you a question. Do you not believe you are beautiful?”

“Not compared to the other woman that you sleep with.”

“They are nothing compared to you.” Now you really were laughing, and he was frowning. When it seemed that it was not all a cruel joke your laughter subsided, and shock took over. Was he blind? Was he even speaking to you? “Come, let me show you what my mirrors are really for.”

Lamely you allowed him to take your hand and lead you into the dreaded room. He positioned you in front of the largest of the mirrors and after a few moments, told you to watch. You shakily pulled your eyes away from the golden frame you had been so ardently studying and locked eyes with his reflection. As you stared the shock of his confession only grew stronger. You were certainly nothing to look at, especially in nothing but a long sleep shirt and ponytail.

If only you had dressed up for such an event.

He pulled the hair tie from your hair and allowed the messy locks to fall around your shoulders. He pulled your gaze away from the mirror for a moment, only to kiss you, and then your eyes returned, just as his hands found the hemline of your shirt. As he lifted it over your thighs you squeezed your eyes shut, not daring to look at the haggish sight that would send him running for the hills.

“Open your eyes,” he demanded as the fabric hit the floor. You shook your head and a soft hand wrapped around your throat, thumb brushing against your chin with impatience. Hesitantly, ever so hesitantly, you obeyed.

The moment you saw yourself in the mirror was not a magical one, in fact, you were impressed you didn’t run from the room that very second. The only thing that was different was Loki, who was staring at your with eyes that screamed lust. With his hands wrapped around you, cupping your chest it seemed he was unable to pull his eyes away. The hand that enveloped your chest drifted down your stomach and two fingers dipped into your dripping core.

It was a strange sight, to watch your body react to something so wonderful. Your muscles tensed, goosebumps sprang up along your skin, and it was all there for your viewing pleasure. You were able to see the very moment his fingers entered you and the way your lips parted as a moan drifted off your tongue. The mirror caught everything, every droplet of sweat, every quiver, every deep breath. You tried to look away, but he always returned your eyes to the reflective glass, whispering words that you could barely hear over the sound of your won ecstasy. When your legs began to shake he turned you around and returned you to the bed, a sweaty, whiny mess.

“On your hands and knees,” he demanded, and you did so, angling your body just enough to avoid any reflection. He seemed to catch onto your plan quickly and yanked your hips to side, returning your gaze to the mirror where he had tortured you moments before. His hard member touched the achy folds of your center and you let out an explicit moan, backing your hips against his length. He grabbed your hips and slid into your entrance, stretching you all along the way. “If you take your eyes off that mirror I will stop until I am satisfied they have returned. Do you understand?” You nodded and then it began. With grace and dignity he thrust inside of you, his hand drifting to your hair and tugging, as if to remind you where your eyes belonged.

It was truly a sight to behold. He was like a king in his courtroom, staring down at you with desire. Even stranger so, you looked… incredible. With every thrust your body responded deliciously, muscles straining, eyes widening, lips parting. Your hair brushed against your cheeks like that of an angel being taken by something unholy. It seemed you too couldn’t take your eyes off the sinful sight in front of you. It was your own personal erotica.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growled and for the first time that night you believed him.

Your legs were shaking again, trembling at the force of his repeated attacks. You were so close you could feel it in your chest, twisting and aching to explode, and with one final thrust you both did so, riding through the high until you were exhausted. Ina heap of sweat and ecstasy you collapsed, pulling Loki’s lips to yours. His kiss was soft and sweet once again, no sign of the previous domination remained.

“Do you believe me, my love?” he asked, and your heart fluttered as you nodded. He smiled, as if this had been his plan all along. With a final conscious breath you closed your eyes, the last thought that crossed your mind was, of course this had been his plan along, he was the Trickster God after all.

#loki #loki x reader #loki x reader angst #loki x reader smut #loki x reader fluff #marvel #avengers #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #kinktober #mirrors #loki angst #loki fluff #loki smut

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theclockworkmonk · 3 years

Text

Out of the Mouths of Babes — Ch 6

AO3 | FFN

Previous chapter on Tumblr

Written for Hinny Ficfest 2021

Prompt: “Uncle Ron said something about Harry knocking Ginny up, but I don’t know what he means,” Teddy said.

Special thanks to @deadwoodpecker for beta reading this chapter

********

It was Molly’s turn to catch Arthur as he swayed on his feet and nearly fainted into her lap.

Hermione’s trembling hands were clapped firmly over her mouth, her eyes bulging to the size of saucers and darting around the room, unsure of who to start questioning, lecturing, or comforting first.

Ron was standing comfortably looking very pleased with himself, taking his turn to give Hermione his best “I told you so” look.

Fleur was silently beaming.

George’s face was turning red and his lips were pressed together so tightly they were turning white, he was trying so hard to keep his flippant comments to himself.

Percy had an intense, focused look on his face like he was trying to solve a maths problem or get a joke.

Bill and Charlie were glaring at Harry with a renewed quiet venom that was more intimidating than the unrestrained threats of a few minutes earlier.

But Harry wasn’t even close to caring, because his brain was too busy with listing to him all of the reasons why he was a terrible person and how he had ruined Ginny’s life and how he had no business being responsible for a tiny helpless human. With the deathly silence of the kitchen, he could perfectly hear his pulse pounding in his ears.

Ginny was still just staring at the blue potion with a completely blank expression. Finally, she was the one who broke the silence.

“...Huh.”

That sound was like a dam breaking, and the entire family erupted into a new flood of noise, all shouting over each other.

“Okay, okay, nobody panic!” Hermione shrieked, flapping her hands and clearly panicking, “We can handle this, I’ll help Ginny make a plan! I’ll start a baby binder!”

Molly darted across the kitchen and tackled her still-stunned daughter into a crushing hug.

“Remember Ginny dear, this is a good thing and we’re all happy for you, even though I’m so sorry I failed you as a mother,” she cried.

“By that she means you both are always accepted by this family and we’ll help any way we can,” said Arthur seriously.

“Yes, feel free to floo over if you ever start feeling sick, dear,” wept Molly, clasping onto Ginny’s hands for dear life, “and I know you starve yourself for your team, but you need to eat whatever you have a craving for as soon as you crave it, even if those trainers don’t like it. I’ll be happy to cook it for you. In fact, I’ll just start coming over every day to make sure you have everything.”

Behind her, Fleur was silently fist-pumping in victory at the new target for Molly Weasley’s doting.

“Not that anybody cares,” said Ron pointedly, staring up at the ceiling with his arms crossed, “But I’m still waiting for my apology.”

That was enough to shake Ginny out of her trance and she actually chuckled. “Ronald, it’s going to take a lot more than the immediate vindication of the wanker things you say for that to happen.”

Bill and Charlie’s faces had turned a shade of purple that reminded Harry entirely too much of Uncle Vernon.

“The rising star junior Auror can’t handle rudimentary contraception magic?” Charlie growled through clenched teeth.

Harry gulped loudly enough to be heard over the cacophony. “No! This potion batch is just a dud, we’re always safe!”

Ginny gasped and grabbed Harry by the sleeve. She pulled him close and whispered, as if there were a chance everyone wouldn’t hear. “Wait, Harry, you did remember to do the Charm...erm….that time, right?” She glanced sideways at Ron and Hermione. “That time...you know...at that thing? That thing three weeks ago?”

Harry’s insides felt like they had been frozen. Apparently the look on his face betrayed him, because Ginny looked to be going through the same revelation as him.

“I….I thought you had,” he mumbled weakly.

Ginny winced and closed her eyes. “Noooooooo,” she moaned, “Harry, we established this, the one who initiates it needs to do the Charm!”

“Exactly!” said Harry, “You were the one who grabbed me and dragged me to the bathroom!”

“Only because you hadn’t taken your hand off my thigh the entire bloody dinner!” said Ginny frantically, “What was I supposed to do, just keep eating cake?”

��Wait!” said Ron loudly, and Harry and Ginny froze like trapped rabbits.

Ron glared back and forth between the two of them, the gears in his head working. “Dinner? Cake? Three weeks?”

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” Hermione seethed dangerously. “Seriously? At our engagement party!?”

Harry shrank away from her like a child caught in the sweets jar. “Er….would you believe that we got caught up in the romance of the moment? You know, because you two are so in love, it’s inspiring?”

“Exactly!” said Ginny, “Really, you should take this as a compliment.”

Ron had his hands over his ears and his eyes clenched shut. “Welp. I can never use that bathroom again. We have to move flats. Better yet, let’s just burn down the building.”

“So what is the Harpies’ maternity plan?” Percy asked studiously, as if this were simply a bureaucratic issue, “how soon do you plan on going on leave? Assuming, of course, you...you know….intend to go through with it”

Tense silence fell, as the misunderstanding that caused all this chaos was suddenly relevant again. Every face was looking toward Harry and Ginny with baited breath.

Ginny swallowed and cleared her throat.

“That,” she said forcefully, crossing her arms, “is none of your business. None of this is any of your business. So if you’ll excuse us, the only people whose opinions matter right now will discuss this alone.”

Without waiting for a retort, Ginny grabbed Harry by the hand and led him up the stairs. After they entered Ginny’s old bedroom and Harry closed the door behind him, she paced back and forth several times before turning to face him.

“Did you put a ward on the door?” she asked.

“And several more on our way up the stairs,” answered Harry. “We should have a while before an Extendable Ear sneaks in here.”

“Good. Very good. Cool. Coolcoolcoolcoolcool.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over them, both hesitant to look the other in the eye. Harry wanted to hug her and start reassuring her, but he also didn’t want this conversation to start, because he wasn’t sure if he was strong enough to hear what he suspected Ginny would say.

Even though he was completely panicking and sure he would find a way to spectacularly mess up raising a child, there was no doubt in his mind about at least trying his best at it. But he knew how dedicated Ginny was to her career, and how difficult this could be for her. He was sure what she was going to say, but he wasn’t sure he could withstand hearing it.

Ginny was chewing her lip, but finally broke the silence. “Look, Harry….this is a lot to take in. Neither of us planned on this happening so soon, obviously. I understand if you want to focus on your job—”

“What?” Harry couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re a professional athlete who has another human growing inside you, and it’s my job we need to worry about?”

Ginny shrugged. “Well, I could keep playing for the next few months. The team healers put a ward around your abdomen for bludgers. I would have to take a break eventually, but I’m on contract now, so I’m secured in my roster spot while on maternity leave, and they always give players a chance to earn their starting spot back.”

“Oh,” said Harry, surprised. “Well that’s….that’s good. I thought it would be more cutthroat.”

“Well, the Harpies’ whole brand is having the very best female players in Britain,” said Ginny proudly, “and having a reputation for the best maternity plan in the league makes them pretty attractive to all their prospects. It’s hard to build a core team if you permanently lose a player every time someone gets pregnant.

“So…” she said assertively, looking him in the eye. “I feel like...we can do this. I want to keep this baby. But ultimately I feel like it’s both of our decisions. I’ll understand no matter how you feel. So….what are you thinking?”

Harry felt like he was in a tug of war, between exploding from happiness or imploding from terrifying nerves. Dementors, dragons, Death Eaters, nothing was as scary as this, but he also didn’t have to think about his answer, even for a second.

His hand drifted into his pocket and he toyed with what was inside. This wasn’t how he imagined doing this, but she asked him what he was thinking, and this night had already flipped all their plans upside-down, what was a bit more?

Harry focused on Ginny’s brown eyes, still earnestly waiting for his answer, and he found the courage he always found there.

“Here’s what I’m thinking,” he said bracingly.

He dropped down to one knee.

Ginny made a high-pitched squeak and her eyes widened in shock. Harry smiled at himself, pleased that he could still catch her completely off-guard.

“I wasn’t planning on doing this soon. I was afraid you would think I was being pushy. Was going to wait a few years. Or maybe a few months. Okay, I was probably close to cracking already. And in the meantime, it still felt good to have this on me, as a good luck charm I suppose.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small black box he had bought weeks earlier.

“Harry….” Ginny whispered, her eyes welling with tears.

“Ginny,” Harry answered. He opened the box to reveal the ring. “Will you mar—guh!”

He was cut off by a crazed redhead tackling him to the ground, grabbing his face and kissing him hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Harry’s head was spinning, but he reluctantly pushed her back.

“Gin — Gin!” he grunted between kisses. Finally, Ginny pulled back, frowning at him.

“There’s kind of a part you forgot?” Harry said pointedly, raising his eyebrows.

Ginny looked lost for a moment, then rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah. Yes. Obviously yes, you idiot.”

She kissed him again, and he lost track of time. Eventually, his back started to get sore on the wood floor, and he pushed himself up and pulled them both to their feet.

“We can finish our own celebration later,” said Harry, smiling so wide his face was sore, “but we should probably put your family’s worries to rest. And I can’t wait to show the world your hand with this on it.” He slid the ring onto her finger, and Ginny bounced on her feet like she was eleven years old again, practicing signing the name “Ginny Potter” in a diary.

Then, her smile slipped and she groaned loudly. “Ugh, this will make my mum even more of a nightmare now. I thought she was bad in the lead-up to Bill’s wedding, she’ll be even worse since she has to be the mother to both of us.”

“Well, Bill’s wedding was nice, wasn’t it?” said Harry diplomatically.

“I mean, I guess,” Ginny shrugged, “but not nearly nice enough to be worth all the hassle. The months of my mother stressing over everything and making sure I know my part. And I was just a bridesmaid! Being the center of attention of a hundred people while wearing a cumbersome dress might be Fleur’s dream, but it sounds like the worst day of my life.”

She wrapped her arms around Harry’s waist and pulled him close. “I just care if I’m the center of your attention.”

Harry smiled even wider. “Well don’t worry, you could be wearing a burlap sack and I still won’t be able to take my eyes off you.”

“So you don’t mind backing me up when Mum breaks out the bridal magazines?” Ginny asked pleadingly. “I was never one of those girls that fantasize about an extravagant wedding; in fact, the smaller the better. We’ve never really talked about it, but I know you, so I assume you would be okay with that?”

Harry laughed loudly. “Are you kidding? Yes, absolutely. You know I’m not exactly a social butterfly. As far as I’m concerned, we could jusy floo over to the Ministry and take care of it right now.”

They both erupted into a fresh round of laughter, holding each other and clutching their sides at how funny and ridiculous the idea was.

Then, their eyes met, and their laughter faltered, growing more and more quiet until tense silence descended on the room. Their smiles dropped, and their suddenly serious eyes held a wordless conversation.

Finally, both their mouths crept back up into wide smiles, this time being full of mischief.

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hitory--chan · 3 years

Text

Day 5: Queen of the Garden

(Ranked T)

Title: In my withered roses you lay resting

Around the forest there were always legends of all kinds, about fantastic creatures and horrifying monsters beyond human imagination, about nymphs, fairies, werewolves and giant snakes that would devastate the entire town in a few minutes if they wanted to; they were just legends, stories to amaze or scare whoever would listen to them, hypnotizing the virgin ear that listened to them with their magnetism, leading their victim to demand more, driving them mad in the search to satisfy that need.

But there was one in particular, the biggest, the most fantastic, the most sublime and the most terrifying no one ever dared to tell, the one whose existence was only known to the oldest of the town who defended tooth and nail its veracity, but nevertheless only tell each other, remembering and crying the intense agony that each word conveyed.

The legend of Hinata, the queen of the garden in the heart of the forest, and Sasuke, the infamous king who without any army was able to penetrate the invulnerable barriers that protected the queen.

The king who never returned.

“My King!” One of her courtesans shouted. "Please, I beg you to reconsider!"

He ignored her, tightening the draws of his armor as the guards placed the shoulder pads and handed him his helmet, which he took.

It was still dark, the moonlight hanging over the entire sleeping kingdom as he prepared to leave.

"My lord, he turned, now listening to his first officer, Kakashi, who was speaking to him "Are you sure this is a good idea? Going into the forest alone?"

"It's not something I didn't do before, Kakashi, you should know" he replied without much interest as he grasped the reins of Onyx, the majestic black horse that had accompanied him for years.

"I understand, but it's not the same, your majesty, it never got beyond the Stone River" the man said, his voice so slow and dull as if it was something he was trained to say, but Sasuke knew him better than many as to know that there was concern hidden behind those dead tones “It is a great risk to take to find a woman that we do not even know exists”

"People are dying Kakashi, of hunger, of disease ..." He inclined his head a little towards his first officer, not enough to really see him “If that woman, that… witch exists, it will be our chance to solve all the evils that afflict us, if I find her, then I save my people”

“And if you do not find her, my lord?”

“Then we will have to take more drastic actions, actions that I don't think we're ready for right now, Kakashi”

The silence that followed told Sasuke that the man knew what he was referring to.

They had recently fought a war against a rival kingdom that wanted to take over all his lands. They attacked in the middle of the night, cowardly seeking to have the tactical advantage darkness gave them without expecting the surprise that they were ready to fight back with much more violence than would be expected of a small kingdom that barely prospered in comparison to others. Many lives were lost on both sides, but his army had kept the slightest advantage over the invaders and captured the main officers of the intruders, executing him right on the battlefield as he had ordered them to do, closing any openings to negotiation the rival might propose.

They rose above them and conquered, drove the remaining invaders from their lands and proclaimed their victory, but they had not come out without casualties, as happened in any other war.

Their crops were burned and their women desecrated. Bodies of infants who had adventured out of their hiding spots now laying among the corpses of their fathers and men who sacrificed their lives in the name of the king's sovereignty, waiting to be buried or burned while their mothers, wives, and brothers mourned their losses.

Soon after came the diseases, plagues so violent that even the best physicians in the kingdom had succumbed to permanent contact with the infected and were now lying in beds, signaling with weak voices to proceed to their charges.

The only hope was the woman who dwelt in the depths of the forest, a queen in her own right, the oracle told him, whose miraculous fingers brought life to everything she touched. A witch, servant of the devil, counterattacked the priest, who would only bring bliss before plunging them further into misery.

A queen, a witch, Sasuke didn't care, he only wanted her hands to heal his people, determined to cut them off if necessary to save the few that were left.

Then Sasuke mounted his horse and reached out his hand, taking the sword that Kakashi had prepared for him and fastening it to his waist strap, where it would remain with him throughout his journey.

"Itachi will be in charge while I'm gone" he decreed, looking at his court, who looked at him in surprise and disbelief.

“My king, my lord!” The woman spoke again “His majesty is very ill for this task, I fear that his condition is too delicate to carry the role, your highness!”

“My brother already ruled once in a worse state than the one he currently is in while waiting for me to grow up to cede the throne, he certainly can do it a bit more while I'm gone”

“But sir…!”

"In case his condition worsens ..." he interrupted, with a tone of voice as icy as the look he gave the woman "in case he´s not an act to continue, then Kakashi will make all the decisions in my absence and my brother's disability”

Several indignant murmurs were heard from the other members of the court, annoyed by the possibility of a military man would rule them, but with the same look he gave the insolent woman, he quieted them all.

"Kakashi" he called and the man walked with him towards the limits of the kingdom that served as the border of the forest, trotting slowly as his first officer followed him with great ease "I trust you to keep everyone safe, especially my brother” he said, stopping his steed and staring at the man.

"My king's orders are my perpetual la," Kakashi recited, quoting the motto of imperial strength as he brought his right hand to his heart and bowed to him.

Sasuke nodded, but before starting his horse again, he spoke for the last time.

- And Kakashi ... execute her

Kakashi bowed again and Sasuke pulled the reins of his horse to start running, going into the forest when the first rays of dawn hit the ground, and knowing his order would be carried out without hesitation.

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

Inside the forest the thick trees hid any trace of the sun, giving the illusion that it was still night even though Sasuke knew it must be after eight.

Still he didn't back down, mentally reciting the directions the oracle had given him to find the mysterious woman.

“Once crossed the river of stone, the road will split for you, one more dangerous the other, competing for the new prey that appears before them. Be guided by the horrendous noises that make the bones of the strongest of men tremble, by the trail of perdition from which your eyes will not be able to turn away, from the putrid stench of those who defied the sanctity of the earth who stepped on impure feet.

Along the way you will find death's favorite resting place. Do not drink or eat the natural delicacies that will be shown for you, instead you must use your senses, facing the great beast that will attack from the shadows.

If the combat is satisfactory, then the beast will show its respects by leading you to its queen, otherwise, there will be the place of your last rest"

Naturally, oracles liked to be cryptic with their words to the point of making them indecipherable, but the more than a century old woman who had served three generations of her family had put those fanfare behind her, preferring to be as clear as possible in her revelations than risk a bad future for the kingdom because of misunderstandings out of her tongue.

Upon reaching the Stone River, he took a moment to observe the waters peacefully.

That river had been named this way not only because of the rock formation that simulated a natural bridge in the center of that great pool, just covering its surface with a thin layer of water that made it extremely slippery, but also because of the rock at its bottom, arranged in the shape of spikes so sharp that even the slightest fall on them could cause fatal injuries to the unfortunate victim.

He allowed Onyx to drink some of the water before venturing across the stone bridge.

His horse, fearless just like his owner, also had some afraid. On rare occasions he’d tried to cross that path through the waters with the equine, but his partner had acquired a phobia at that particular step when, being very young, he slipped on the stone and it was almost impossible for him to get back on his feet, almost falling to the bottom of the river when with desperate movements he slid to one side before finally reaching the bank of the river and climbing, being completely exhausted on the grass, all under the frightened gaze of his owner who had remained on dry land while his horse struggled.

He remembers that, after that, he had remained with Onyx there for longer than he ever was in that place, being found by the royal guard and brought to the castle only to remain expectant all night at the possibility of having to sacrifice the animal.

Now, Onyx was a majestic and imposing stallion with more history than half his stablemates, but from time to time he would turn back into a fearful foal when they were near that place.

However, while he normally wouldn't push him any further than he considered Onyx could take, this time around he couldn't afford to be understandable to his horse or to be left without a mount for the rest of the way.

“Come on boy!” He encouraged him, shaking the reins several times and smiling as Onyx, refusing at first, approached the rock and put his front legs on it, whinnying loudly as he took small terrified steps.

Even in the slippery material, the new horseshoes he had had his horse put on were being especially helpful in preventing the equine's legs from slipping over the rock even when Onyx's steps were somewhat shaky, leading the horse to gain a little confidence with every step until he was finally on the other side.

“Well done, Onyx!” He congratulated the horse, patting and stroking his neck before pulling out an apple, which he happily accepted.

He wasted no time and continued with the journey, reaching the place where the road divided in three.

At first glance they did not seem dangerous at all, leading him to wonder if the oracle had been wrong with her interpretation or if he had deviated from the correct path himself, but the sudden sound of something sliding on the ground caught his attention and put his whole body on guard again, waiting for any sign of attack.

Instead what he received was the cawing of birds, crows, he recognized, noises of something sliding and the screeching of bats that flew directly to his face at that moment, causing Onyx to panic and stand up on his two hind legs, almost making Sasuke to fall.

When he regained his balance and Onyx was back on all fours, Sasuke looked at the central path, remembering what the oracle had said and thinking that this should be the way to go, so he made the horse move forward, despite the reluctance of the animal.

The putrid stench started only a few minutes on the road before dead animals began to appear on the road, being replaced only a few meters later by human corpses in various states of putrefaction, from skeletons to bodies that should barely have been there for a few days. , and even recognized the uniform worn by the third-rank guards in his kingdom, only stuffed with bones, each corpse wrapped by vines and other local weeds.

He was forced to breathe as little as possible when the stench became impossible to bear, coming to vomit in the section where everything was strongest, without having the opportunity to breathe until the road began to clear of so much death, showing to his sight a great stone plateau clothed with climbing vines and rosebuds.

He got off his horse and gave him another snack, tying the reins to the tree farthest from the ferns and other plants full of fruit that he knew they shouldn't eat.

Slowly and carefully he approached the great structure, gazing at it in fascination. Up close, he noticed the spines that protruded around the roses of different sizes that decorated the plateau, which, he noticed, were deceptively sharp, cutting him at the simple touch and spilling a thick drop of blood that bathed the thorn that caused his wound.

The sudden tremor in his spine appeared as the slight trembling of the earth beneath his feet, accompanied by the sound of something sliding - something that must have been big and heavy, from the way it sounded - and then deafening silence was present. .

“Onyx!” He shouted, turning around when he heard the horse whinny and stop suddenly, expecting to meet the animal where he had left it, however in its place he found another type of animal, giant and with shiny black scales, which were only cut with the three red lines of scales on the tip of its tail, raised in the air with a swaying motion.

The gigantic snake kept its eyes fixed on his, hissing and showing off his forked white tongue.

Eyes wider than they had ever been in his life, he diverted them just a little to the rest of the great reptile's body, almost growling in pain at the bulge protruding from where, he guessed, was the stomach of the immense snake, sure it was the product of his horse swallowing.

Feeling the flame of fury ignite and grow in him, he grasped the hilt of his sword in a slow motion and drew it lightly, as the serpent rose a little higher above him.

With one swift movement he pulled it out completely as the snake lunged at him, barely being fast enough to avoid its jaws, but not fast enough to dodge its tail, which slammed it against a tree and left it stamped there until he nailed the sword almost halfway.

Even his powerful armor hadn't been enough to shield him from that blow, catching his breath cut short by the pressure of the limb that had held him captive, but he had no time to think about that as he tried to get away from the great perimeter that covered the snake.

The injured tail slammed into the ground next to him, causing him to stumble from the din it caused.

The reptile's head also collided with the ground a few feet from his back and then glided at high speed towards him, using its nose to push him up when he collided with him and sent him flying into the air as the snake rose again, now with its jaws open.

But Sasuke was able to hold on to the tip of the animal's nose and avoid being swallowed as he had done with his horse by resting his feet against the bottom of the snake's mouth and giving a little jump before it closed it, being helped by the impulse that the same reptile gave him before the abrupt movement it made while trying to make him fall.

Sasuke stayed on the snake's skull and held onto its scales as best he could before stabbing his sword - which he had clung to as much as he could during the attack - into one of the animal's eyes, which let out a shrill and strange sound before, to Sasuke's immense amazement, it made a 180 ° turn and threw himself hard against the floor, taking him with and crashing him on the flat surface, a blow so violent that it caused him to lose his helmet, his mobility and his strength.

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

Only seconds before he lost consciousness he saw the towering snake - now one-eyed - rise above him before launching itself with his jaws open just as Sasuke's eyes finally gave up.

When he woke up, the first thing he noticed was the immense throbbing pain in his head that only got worse when he tried to open his eyes, being hit by the brightest sunlight that forced him to close them again.

Where had so much light come from?

After a while, and when he was sure he could resist it, he opened his eyes again.

It took him a long time to regain the clarity of his sight, but once everything was clear he was astonished at what he saw.

In front of him a large colorful space, green above all, stood proud in all that light. Huge trees were here and there, casting great shadows, covered with fruit in great quantity.

A few meters from him was a lake with crystal clear waters, reflecting everything that was shown from above.

It was only when a slight movement behind him caught his attention that he realized he had been leaning against something cold, and when he turned around he felt as if his entire being had left his body when he found himself face to face with the giant eye yellowish that he recognized instantly.

He backed away quickly, grunting in pain as his muscles protested at his sudden movements, but instead of stopping to ease them, he fought them and reached for his sword at her waist, surprised not to find it.

The snake stared at him for a few seconds before lazily deflecting its head toward the center of the thread that had turned its body.

—You must not fear, it will not hurt you

He turned quickly and looked around, searching for the soft voice that he had said those words.

"Onyx" he breathed out, seeing the mate he had thought he lost, now lying on the grass, asleep on the other side of the lake.

Naturally those words were not said by the animal, but by the other person next to it, who was gently stroking the mane of his horse.

Their eyes met and he forgot how to breathe, incredulous of the moons that were his pupils, beautiful, and that without a doubt were looking directly at him.

The woman stood up and he could see her completely: snowy skin, long dark hair that swayed with every step she took. Her body was covered in leaves, branches and flowers that clung to her like a second layer. The upper part of her was covered by vines up to the middle of her breasts, being enough to cover the most. The lower part was a skirt, much less rigid than the upper one as it was made entirely of green leaves in different sizes, stopping only a few inches above her knees.

A long vine rested in the center of her abdomen, joining the two pieces as one.

She was barefoot and her hair was decorated with the most elaborate flower crown he had ever seen in his life.

As he passed by the lake, he stopped, crouching in the direction of the water, taking from the ground a large leaf of a plant that he did not recognize - and which he had not realized was lying there - and wrapped it gently until it formed a bowl that she plunged into the water until filled it, rising again and resuming its way towards him, now with the makeshift pot that spilled tiny drops from its bottom.

When she finally got to him, he saw her more clearly: thin and natural pink lips, a small and upturned nose, perfectly shaped eyebrows and long eyelashes that only marveled her appearance even more, also highlighting the lack of the slightest freckle on her face.

She offered him the bowl but he did not take it at first, still fascinated and hypnotized by the beauty of the woman in front of him until she pushed it to his chest, forcing him to hold it as she took one by one his hands between her smallest and drew them to the sides of the blade, releasing it when she made sure his grip was firm.

She, with one of her index fingers, touched the surface of the water three times in different parts, and when her hand lowered three different flowers grew in the water: a lotus, a calla and a water lily, which immediately disintegrated and mixed with the liquid, giving it a color that ranged from pink to purple.

"Take it" she said, looking into his eyes "it will help you heal."

He didn't know why, but he obeyed her and took the entire tonic in one gulp, grimacing when the bitter taste of it touched his tongue and she slid down her throat.

She smirked and turned around, walking back to where Onyx was now awake, looking at them wearily.

"It's you" was the first thing that came out of his mouth, looking at her completely uncovered back as she walked away from him “The witch”.

Her walking stopped and she turned around again, looking at him now with a frown, offended.

“That's very rude!. I am not a witch" she protested "My name is Hinata Hyuga, and I am the queen of this garden" she said proudly, turning to resume her march as if her statement was enough to deny his word.

But he would not be fooled; he had witnessed for himself what she had done in the water she had given him to drink.

He looked around him and his sight fell on his sword and armor, arranged neatly on the grass near the giant serpent's tail.

Slowly and careful not to be heard he approached his things and took the sword at the same time that with difficulty he took three steps back as the snake's tail moved to hit the ground and then returned to its original position.

It took a bit of trouble, but he was able to raise his sword and hold it with both hands, directing the tip in the direction in which that woman - that witch - was, now again sitting on the grass, stroking the back of his horse, looking at him unimpressed.

"Witch, you will come with me" he demanded "Everything will be easier if you do not resist, you will get a decent treatment: you will sleep in the softest bed, you will wear the finest clothes ... otherwise, if you resist, you ... you ..." He stopped for a moment, not for lack of words, but from shortness of breath —If… if you resist… the dungeon… the smallest and dirtiest dungeon will be…

"You’re hurting them" she interrupted, and he didn't understand.

The witch looked down and he followed her eyes, stopping at the sword that was now stuck in the middle of a small group of flowers.

When had he lowered his sword?

“What did you do to me?” He growled, aware of the progressive loss of strength to which he was subjected.

"It's the medicine" said the witch, calmly "for your body to heal, it must first rest”

And as if that were a command, his body fell apart, causing him to fall to the floor on a tall grass bed that he could swear was not there a moment ago.

- Witch! ... You will pay...

Unconsciousness welcomed him.

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

When he woke up there was still sunlight, quite clear, so he thought that maybe he had only slept a few seconds, but the environment felt different from before and he could hear the distinctive galloping and neighing of Onyx, going here and there as his footsteps slightly covered the happy laugh of the female.

He could not move his body freely, only just his fingers, and mentally he cursed himself for having taken that concoction that this evil woman had given him, clearly using her sorcery to weaken him.

“Your body still needs rest” he could have shuddered at the sudden voice if it weren't for the fact that he was paralyzed, shortly afterwards the witch's face appeared in his visual range, tilted from above so he could see her “you´ve been very hurt by your confrontation with Munda, your injuries will take a little longer to heal”

He grunted, annoyed.

“Why have you risked your life to get here, mortal?” She asked him, now in a more serious tone.

Then and once again without really knowing why, he began to tell her about his kingdom, about the moments of wealth and prosperity before the war struck, about the deaths and the lack of food that besieged them, making their situation worse. He told her about his brother and his mysterious bedridden illness, about the sudden barrenness of his lands, and how he had preferred to make this trip alone rather than take away much-needed protection in case they tried again to invade them during his absence.

In her face there was no sorrow, annoyance or joy for their misfortunes, instead it was pure curiosity what he could see while he finished explaining the reason why he was looking for her.

"Okay, I'll go with you" she answered with conviction.

He, who had gradually regained mobility to the point where he could now sit up and the waves of heat attacked him insistently, looked at her in surprise, unable to avoid questioning her decision.

"I'll go with you" she confirmed again "However, the starting path is more dangerous than the one you traveled to get here, so you will have to make a full recovery first" She stood up and looked at him “I cannot be away for long, this place depends on me, so I will help your people and leave immediately, it is my only condition”

He watched her, almost denying immediately that he could leave that easily, but he was quick enough to bite his tongue before speaking.

"Okay, then we have a deal" he agreed.

She nodded pleased and stood up, walking away from him and up a tiny hill where she began to press with her fingers the closed buds and the withered flowers that surrounded her, opening and coming back to life with the simple touch of her.

Despite having accepted, in his mind they only danced ways of how he would interrupt her departure, it would be very foolish of him to let her go that easy, a person with her abilities, whether witch or not, was unique, one in a million , and no self-respecting kingdom would let her go that easily.

He could try to convince her by showing her everything that she obviously didn't have in her "garden", the wonders of modernity, and if that couldn't convince her, well, he had dungeons at his disposal that he could trick her into or even without them, but surely he would not lose those abilities from his hands.

Satisfied with that plan, he began to touch the back of both of his hands, searching and removing the splinters that he did not know how he has nailed himself.

Even though Hinata's tonics were helping him recover faster than he normally would, it felt like it was actually taking forever.

There, the days and nights seemed to last longer than normal, as if the clock had 36 hours instead of 24.

Each remedy that Hinata gave her were different and she healed something different, like the one she used to make his bruises disappear, which were a combination of wild flowers and citrus fruits that melted in the water as soon as she created them and released. Those bruises that would normally take a week or more to fade, she had done it in almost three days.

The problem is that she could only give him a tonic for one thing at a time, along with the first one that she had given him so his body relaxes and rests.

Now he was drinking one that she claimed would help with his internal ailments, and he guessed she was referring to the bruised bones that barely allowed her to walk or breathe. This was particularly bitter and she had to take it several times a day, which was a mini torture considering that these wounds would take even longer to heal.

He was washing his armor when he heard her scream.

“No! Go away, you can't be here!”

His skin prickled when she heard it. Had someone entered that place? An ally or an enemy? The great snake that was supposed to be the only one that could make someone else reach that place, Munda, hadn't moved from the rock it had spread on the day before, almost looking dead if it weren't for the hiss it left escape from time to time, maybe someone had found a way to enter without facing the great reptile?

“No! Get away!”

Wasting no time he dropped the piece of armor he was washing into the water and instead grabbed his sword, gripping it tightly and ran - or rather, he limped quickly - looking beyond the trees and bushes until he saw her midnight hair, covered with small flowers of various colors, and he went quickly towards her, who kept her fists clenched and her arms stiff down, slapping the floor with one foot while she kept yelling at whoever was there to leave.

But as he got closer to her, he still couldn't see anyone else; maybe it was some invisible person? It would not be unreasonable to think about that.

Finally, when he got to her side, he saw whoever caused her annoyance.

"This… creature…" she began, making an exasperated gesture with her hand at the wild boar that nonchalantly ate the blackberries from the orchard it raided "This annoying creature won't go away!" I've tried everything but it keeps coming back”

He looked at her in disbelief.

“So much fuss over a wild boar?”

“Is this the name of this demon spawn?” She asked him, looking at him intensely "Do you know him?"

"It's a wild boar, there are hundreds of them in the forest" he said more calmly, dismissing the accusation of her previous question.

“Hundreds?!” She gasped in disbelief.

"Calm down, just ... get rid of him."

“I´ve tried it! But this ... boar keeps coming back”

He let out an exasperated sigh, thinking of suggesting of making her pet snake eat the animal, but dismissed the idea as he thought the reptile was pretty useless when it don´t came to attacking and killing unsuspecting humans and their horses near the plateau of stone.

Since he first woke up he had only seen it move a few inches and change position, so another idea occurred to him.

“Can you hold it?” He asked him “with your ivy?”

She looked at him curiously and suspiciously, but instead of answering vocally, she raised a hand and made a few short movements with her fingers before clenching her fist, catching the animal that began to screech in panic.

He approached it, and with a certain movement, cut off it head.

When he heard her loud gasp he looked back and there she was, her brows furrowed, her eyes staked and both of her hands covering her mouth.

He looked back at the now dead animal, grabbed it head and raised it before asking.

“Do you know fire?”

Sasuke sat on a rock while at the same time bringing the now cooked boar meat to his mouth, biting off a large chunk and tearing it from the rest so he could eat it.

Sitting on another rock on the other side of the bonfire he had made, Hinata found herself with her arms crossed and her brow furrowed, looking at him with such intensity as if she wanted to make his head explode with just her powerful gaze.

She was upset with him, that was clear. Since he had killed the animal and cut its meat into smaller portions so he could stick them into branches and put them on the fire to cook.

The turning point, however, was when he gathered branches and leaves and started the fire that he had surrounded with rocks of different sizes as a barrier so that the fire did not spread.

Apparently, she could forgive him for killing an animal even if she was clearly against it, but lighting wood and using leaves as a burning material was where she drew the line, practically declaring enmity at the prolonged silence she had maintained.

It was funny to tell the truth, even if preparing that meat and the dressing he had bathed it with to give it a little more flavor had been torture for his sprained wrist, it was worth it if I could see her normally relaxed and smiling face distorted with annoyance and disappointment, her lower lip sticking out childishly.

Furthermore, and despite the wide variety of fruits she had been feeding him - more delicious than he had ever eaten - he had really missed the taste of meat on his palate.

“Hey!” He called her even though it wasn't necessary, since she hadn't taken her gaze from him for a second. "Try a little" he said, spreading some meat even though he was too far for her to reach.

That scandalized her.

“I will not do it!” She vigorously refused, looking quite offended by his proposal “I'm not a savage!”

"Me neither" he said, shrugging even though he wanted to burst in laughs at her expression.

“You are eating a living being”

“You eat the children of your plants, but I don't judge you for doing that”

The expression on her face finally overcame him, making him laugh.

With difficulty and care, he rose to his feet and walked around the fire, sitting next to her and extending with his good hand the piece of meat he himself had previously been eating.

"Try a little" he repeated, but she pursed her lips and turned her face away, refusing.

“No, I do not like”

"You can't say you don't like it if you haven't tried it yet" he told her, repeating the words his mother had repeated so much to the fussy eight-year-old he was.

But she kept refusing, so he took another approach they used to use with him when he was especially difficult to feed: negotiation.

"How about this" he began “If you try a little of this, I promise I won't complain and take all your strange meds even if they taste like hell itself, you don't have to like it, just try a little”

She looked at him scrutinizingly, apparently looking for some kind of dishonesty, but he just brought his injured wrist to the center of his abdomen, in a well-camouflaged dirty little manipulative move, which he knew was working when she looked at his wrist and then again to in his eyes.

“Just a little?” He nodded "And will you take the medicine without complaining?" He affirmed again.

Hinata closed her eyes and took a deep breath before letting it out again in the form of a long sigh.

She opened her eyes again, now with a look of determination and nodded.

He smiled and brought the meat to her mouth.

“W-wait!” she yelled, holding his wrist.

He was really having a hard time not laugh again.

Without letting go his wrist, she barely opened her mouth and bit into some of the meat, chewing it and stopping after swallowing it.

He looked at her expectantly, watching as she frowned again and sudden tears began to fall from her eyes.

Was it really that bad?

He began to feel guilty for forcing her to do so, but he was surprised when she now took a bigger bite, taking the meat from his hand to grab it herself, saying between sobs

"It's good!" she sniffed and cried harder as she ate more of it.

________________________

That night he woke up because of the pain that attacked his healthy wrist, grunting and looking for the reason for that, and when he looked at it, he was surprised and out of breath to see how a bracelet of branches wrapped him, which would not be a problem if it was not for the fact that they seemed to come straight out of his skin.

________________________

Another few days passed and he had kept thinking a lot about his situation.

Due to his suspicions, he decided to do an experiment.

For a few days he stayed especially close to her, touching her skin with his fingertips in the most subtle way he could, leading him to offer help during the moments when she did her self-imposed tasks that were not really necessary - there was not much to entertain herself with, he supposed — and despite confusion at his sudden need to help, she agreed and directed him what to do, frustrating him when any of those tasks kept him away from her.

But at the end of the day he touched her enough without going overboard - tapping her shoulder to get her attention or patted it awkwardly as he congratulated her with a "good job" - and then he walked away from her and went to the makeshift cot she had created for him, leaving her more confused than at first.

The first night he waited awake for something to happen, for the branches to start coming out or for his skin to turn green, he wasn't entirely sure what could happen, but he waited.

And he received nothing.

He repeated the experiment several more times and nothing happened, so he thought maybe it was a side effect of the last potion she had given him to drink? It would make sense that his body is no longer producing more vegetation by changing the type of medicine she was giving him, and it would also make sense that she did not know that effect as something out of the ordinary, since her own body seemed to produce by itself the plants that dressed her.

Then he forgot the topic, classifying it as a one-time occurrence.

Until he wasn't.

That morning, when he no longer had any kind of ailment and was beginning to feel he was finally regaining his strength, he had helped Munda - who, he learned, was really peaceful when he was not protecting the entrance to that garden - to get rid of the little debris that had stuck to him after his last shedding of skin.

"Good work," Hinata said, patting him on the shoulder as best she could since he was significantly taller than her “Munda's shedding of skin is usually a disaster because it is more resistant than normal, so I always have a hard time cleaning it when it's in season” she revealed, now with her hand fixed on his shoulder “you are very good at that”

He accepted her congratulations with a small hint of pride on her chest.

They passed the day with normally, and at night, while taking a bath in the lake, a sudden pain attacked his shoulder.

When he tried to move his shoulder in circles, he couldn´t, the pain and stiffness prevented him from the slightest movement, then he brought his other hand over said shoulder to try to massage himself, but when he felt his fingers prick, He stopped.

Surprised, he looked at his shoulder and couldn't believe what he saw: it was covered in thorns right where Hinata had touched it.

The fire of anger ignited in him and spread like forest fire, was that it? Her hands? Were her hands causing his body to produce leaves and thorns as if it were a simple plant? Although, now that he thought about it, he had been a fool not to realize it before, after all, she was nothing more than a witch whose hands could grow trees and flowers out of nowhere.

He had been fooled. He had let his guard down and this witch was turning him into another plant in her garden.

Who many more had she done this to?

He looked at the surrounding trees for the hint that any of them were once a man, but he had done his job so well that there was not the slightest trace of a previous humanity in them.

Angry, he left the lake and put on his pants, not caring they were dirty and dusty from the activities he had done that day. He dressed in his armor and took the sword with him, searching for Hinata and finding her, as always, in the center of the small flower-covered hill that surrounded her.

His quick and heavy steps caught his attention, turning and smiling at him when she saw him approaching, but that expression quickly changed when he entered, stepping carelessly on the flowers that she loved so much.

"Sasuk ..!"

"In two days we will leave," he interrupted, placing the sword under her chin and applying enough pressure so the tip dug lightly into her neck, hurting her “I have already lost a lot of valuable time with your stupid games, as of today, I command”

He turned around without giving her the opportunity to speak and went to the farthest part of that garden, where he found what seemed to be the oldest tree of all, the most leafy, where he sat down and pressed his back against it, crossing his arms with his sword still in his hand, quickly creating in his mind all the logistics of what he would do next.

______________________

The desperate neighing of Onyx woke him up.

He hadn't realized when he had fallen asleep, but it seems as if the apocalypse had taken place once he closed his eyes.

He blinked, trying to clear the blurry view of him until everything was terrifyingly sharp.

In front of him, Onyx kept crying, rising on his hind legs and then dropping the front legs in heavy blows, kicking up the dust with each fall.

It was daytime, he could tell, but the whole environment was so bleak that his brain had a hard time understanding it.

He looked around him, all the space that had previously been green and colorful had turned to the darkest gray he had ever seen. The trees shed their leaves at an impressive speed, the same ones that were now on the ground, surrounding him.

He tried to take one, but the blades were so brittle they broke with the simple touch.

"Onix, take it easy" But the horse ignored him; instead, he whinnied louder as if urging him to stop and then ran, leaving him behind.

He walked carefully, looking everywhere: the bushes were dry but still held some of their fruits, of which he took one and put it in his mouth only to spit it out instantly, disgusted by the horrible taste of the previously delicious blackberry had taken. As he walked, a foul stench began to fill his nostrils, aggravating the closer he got to the lake, until he realized that was where it came from. The waters, previously clean and clear, were now as black and thick as tar.

What was happening?

It didn't take long for him to find the cause.

Still on the small hill was Hinata, motionless and with her head bowed, the flowers around her were wilted. Munda surrounded the hill, making a great circle with its whole body, as trying to be a wall of protection for her owner.

The great snake gave him a warning hiss, glaring at him, now with both of its healthy eyes, as if it was challenging him to come closer.

Even with the threat of the reptile, he did, he knew how protective he was, but he had learned that in here Munda was more like a puppy playing at being brave than the gigantic and terrifying snake really was.

Already within the circle of protection of him everything was more horrible, here the flowers were not withered, and instead they seemed burned. Hinata's body remained immobile, not even seemed to breathe, and when he surrounded her and was face to face with her, he was surprised by the horrible state that in just a few hours she had gotten.

Her skin was as gray as the rest of the earth, her previously pink lips were now dangerously close to black, almost all the flowers in her hair and crown had lost their petals and the ones that remained would fall at any moment. Her eyes were open and she kept them that way, without blinking, and the only sign that told him there was still life in her was the trail of tears that fell without stopping.

He crouched in front of her and called out, but he didn't get the slightest bit of recognition from her.

He grabbed her face and winced at the ease of movement he had from her, even if her body seemed stiffer than could be possible.

Then the dark green trail that fell from her throat to her abdomen caught his eye, and he felt as if he had been hit with the strongest metal as he remembered what he had done.

Was this his fault?

"Hinata," he called her, lifting her face so he could look into her eyes, which seemed to be empty. "Hinata, I'm sorry."

But his attempts were in vain because she did not respond or make the slightest movement that indicated she would do it at some point.

Desperation began to fill him and he didn't know what to do, stroking her face and trying to wipe the tears away, but they kept falling and instead, sliding over and around his thumbs, mocking his unsuccessful attempts to stop them.

Then, in a moment of utter despair he did something he had only thought would happen in his dreams, and kissed her.

His lips froze over the cold, chapped of hers, and all ambient sound that he had previously not actively noticed disappeared. He made no move, just stood with his lips joined, praying inside his mind for a reaction, until her lips trembled.

One sob left them, then two, until it was totally a symphony of wailing.

He hugged her and pressed her to his chest, quietly apologizing to her and preferring to hear her cry than remain in the deathly silence of moments ago.

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

Recovery was slower than he could have imagined. While it took less than one night to produce the disaster, fixing it was a matter of a long time.

She avoided talking to him and he couldn't blame her, not after all that he´d caused.

She was just getting back to her normal color and at the same time so did her garden, slowly returning to the green it was when he had arrived.

He hadn't given her a reason for his action in the first place, and he didn't think he'd do it sometime soon - never, if he could.

He just helped her silently, discovering that when he kissed her, she recovered a little more.

So he kept doing it, morning, afternoon and evening, until the pink on her cheeks appeared and the flowers in her hair began to bloom.

That, however, came at a price, and it didn't take long for him to realize that the mere touch was more powerful than that of her fingers.

It first reflected on his nails, which turned brown and their textures became like that of a tree trunk. Then on his chest, where leaves and thorns came out again.

It was a much faster process than he had thought.

"I think we can leave tomorrow" were the first words she spoke to him after days of silence, smiling shyly at him, speaking in a low voice.

He nodded as best she could, his neck stiff from the changes taking place in him.

That day his feet stuck to the ground, and pulling them off felt as if he had lost a limb.

"Sasuke" Hinata called him the next morning, worried about what she was seeing. "Since when has this been happening?"

He looked at her, but he didn't answer.

He was still lying on his grass cot, trapped by the ivy that had tightly encircled his arms, torso, and legs to keep him in place.

"Wait." The desperation in Hinata's voice was palpable, but he could barely recognize anything.

With her hands, Hinata touched the plants on top of him, but was surprised to see that instead of obeying her and disappearing, they seemed to tighten around Sasuke.

She looked at her hands without understanding what was happening and tried again, her eyes clouding over as she obtained the same result as the first time.

The tears left her eyes and the sobs soon appeared the more she tried and failed, becoming more energetic and miserable with every second more.

"Hinata," he called out, barely a hoarse whisper as he felt a new plant grow from his stomach and slide its roots through his esophagus, slowly exiting his mouth "There is no time for me…”

“Do not!" She shouted shakily" Don't say that!”

“S. Save them ... my people ...” he said, barely breathing.

"I-I will, but-but first ..." A sob interrupted her "you first..."

Sasuke wanted to deny, but he had neither the strength nor the mobility to do so.

"There ... there is ... no time for ... me" he repeated.

“Sasuke”

“Please”

Without finding the words to answer him, she just nodded.

Sasuke smiled and looked at her, grateful as a single tear slid down the side of his face as more roots came out of his mouth.

"Thank you" he said, his voice cracking, closing his eyes, "I lo ..."

But he couldn't finish his sentence, losing the last breath he had and finally letting the roots slide out of his mouth and dig into the ground beneath him.

A heartrending scream came from Hinata's mouth, the loss, for the first time in hundreds of years, completely ripping her apart.

She cried over his body, feeling a pain much worse than that of a few days ago completely invade her, feeling again how she was fainting rapidly.

But she still had one last promise to keep.

Unwilling to leave him, Hinata placed both hands on the ground and gathered all of her strength, screaming as she transferred her power beyond the forest, filling all around with the life that he had come looking for.

The earth shook and great thorny walls rose above all of her garden, joining in the center without closing completely, and leaving a small gap through which the sunlight entered.

Exhausted, she walked to where Sasuke's body lay covered in roots and she dropped down beside him, placing a hand on his chest, slowly closing her eyes and melting into him.

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

From the highest tower of the Uchiha castle, the cries of the courtesans invaded the room of King Itachi, whose body was covered by a white sheet as his court surrounded him.

"You did it, my king," Kakashi whispered, watching from the window as the kingdom began to fill with the vivid green of the growing plants and the colorful buds of flowers and fruit that followed them, though his attention was really fixed on the large bud that it had formed in the farthest part of the forest.

While, at the gates of the kingdom, Onyx the steed without his king arrived.

@sasuhinamonth

#sasuhina month #sasuhinamonth2021 #day 5 #sasuhina #queen of the garden #theres a spanish vertion #but im not publishing it here #too long

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heli0s-writes · 4 years

Text

bright whites*

A/N: For Crybaby Anon :’) I’m not sure if I filled this request correctly!! But here is some angsty tender smut anyway. Nomad Steve/Reader again because hmmm. Listen to: Kishi Bashi - Bright Whites

~1k words. Please stop reading if you are not 18+

brooklyn after dark masterlist

It goes to his head.

The blue wall. The yellow lamp. Somber shades of orange and grey-green where they touch like a muddy watercolor bloom. Splayed under paper-thin covers, your crown dipping off the edge of the bed, throat laboring with every gulp of air. A stormy midday nap where neither party quite gets any sleep at all.

Kisses to your collar, your breasts, he slides the sheet down with his nose, savors new warmth of exposed skin—your belly, your hip, your softness. Hands find each other, one of his on the flesh of your waist.

Steve’s dizzy on it. Selfish for it. A love he never imagined he’d have—a love he’d stopped yearning for long ago. But here you are, beneath his body, and he’ll never stop feeling star-struck at the sight.

“Baby,” he sighs, kissing-- kissing, kissing-- can’t stop his lips from roaming, can’t stop his tongue from tasting. Left, then right, back over again. Drowsy meandering paths, curving and bending, pleased when you arch into his mouth, forever wanting more.

Steve buries his face between your legs, smothers praises between your thighs.

A featherlight graze and you whimper—chest rising and falling, body humming, eyes glazed over. He does it again—a little longer, a little harder, pressing in, up, where he knows to. He kisses you there like he’s kissing your mouth—tilting his head barely, slotting over the seam. He’s dedicated, takes his time, treasures every shudder, every flavor.

“Can’t get enough of you,” he says, “Gotta keep you all to myself.”

He wants everything from you. He loves everything about you. Your eyes. Your smile. Your light and loyalty. How you wrap yourself around him and all his obstinate virtue, how you don’t mind that it’s taken you to dimly lit places beneath rainclouds. Under itchy blankets in temporary homes.

A tug, fingers still locked tight, and you tell him where you need him.

Steve’s beard is damp when he comes up, bits of wetness shiny on his cheek and chin, but you press your lips to his all the same. He guides himself in, reveling in your warmth and the way you whine—airy and delicate, memorizes your face turned up-side down and blissed out.

He matches the pattern of the rain. Tepid, at first, barely falling into your body, savoring the slow drag and the sparks rolling to the tips of his fingers and toes. But he’s greedy for it—all those pretty sounds you make—how you suck in and cry out when he takes you to the edge and lets you go careening into the stars.

So he moves faster, hips slamming into yours, releasing your hand to support your head, bracing himself above you.

“I want you looking at me,” he says, “Let me see you, sweetheart.”

So you do, blinking through the darkness and find him like a beacon, as he always has been, as he always will be. His long hair falls to one side, ashy fair, suspended and rocking along.

“’S that good? Like this?”

“Steve—” Choked out punches of sound, pitch rising and falling as your face twists, sweat collecting on your brow.

“That’s it, baby.”

“Steve—"

On the precipice of an incoming storm, thunder rolling outside the bed, above the building, and rising, too, in Steve’s belly, he works into your body, heavy-lidded and transfixed on your beautiful face. Deeper until you’re shaking, pulling your legs up over his shoulders, getting him closer, closer, closer.

His toes curl.

You shatter under a splinter of lightning. It bursts across your skin—a bright halo of purple—before it’s gone, chased by the explosion of swollen clouds.

Gasping, you turn your face toward his forearm, but he nudges you back, getting a better grip on you. And the way you look—struggling to see straight, half-sobbing his name now, helplessly writhing beneath him for more contact, for another summit to fall from—god, all the stars could align and he wouldn’t give a single fuck about anything other than this.

Another crash and the earth trembles. Your open mouth is panting for more. He takes this image—collects it inside his heart. Another. Bright whites like camera flashes and he clings on to this one, too.

He kisses your open mouth, kisses your throat, feels it twisting in his hollowed chest, that covetous guilt.

A pretty smile just for him to see and he drinks it up with dazed and devout eyes.

“I’m yours, Steve,” you say, like reading his mind, “Just yours.”

It’s torrential. Spiraling wind and water hitting the windows like gunfire, splattering like shrapnel. He curls around you beneath the blanket—newsprint flimsy—and he hates it, god he hates it. You go quiet but he hears the swallow in your throat. Smells the ache in the air through must and mildew.

“It’s just a little bit of bad weather,” he says, shifting his weight, “It’ll pass.”

You hum a strangled sound of agreeance. His strong girl—won’t let him see you cry-- won’t let him have another thing to burden himself with when all he has are burdens now. When the world is howling outside, astray and gone off its axis from the sun and made an enemy of him, writing him on the wrong side of history but you know the truth.

You rest your forehead against his chin, knuckles trailing through his beard—that necessary disguise you’ve come to love because it’s his, because it’s him. You rearrange suddenly, take a deep breath, and shuffle until you’ve switched places and he’s the one resting on your chest.

He tries to look up, but you turn him away.

“Hey,” Steve says, finding your hand, “Doesn’t matter what happens—outside, tomorrow, with anybody,” he grips your fingers tight. Grips you even tighter. “It’s you and me. Just you and me.” Because he’s selfish. Because he took you from a perfectly domestic life, in a safe and warm home with sturdy walls and cotton blankets, from sugary sunshine and brought you here. Some sad destiny stripped naked to its very skeleton, and who knows when either of you will really live again.

“Just a bit of bad weather,” he says again, cheek on your breast.

“I don’t mind it,” you reply, the sound vibrating through your skin.

He gets to look this time, his brow crinkling a little from this angle, corners of his lips lost in the furs of his beard. You kiss his eyes, his lashes, tell him you love him, and Steve could weep.

You stroke his blonde head, turning golden hairs in gentle spirals, and he listens to the beating of your heart like rainfall on a roof.

#steve rogers x reader #nomad steve rogers #nomad steve x reader #fanfiction #marvel #reader insert #smut

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peachyqueenly · 3 years

Text

The Night of Witches

Rated: T

White Lily Cookie goes to The Night of Witches seeking answers... but this time, she is not alone. Will this affect how Fortuna writes the story?

Link to it on AO3 (if you prefer to read it there): https://archiveofourown.org/works/31830856

//Quick note before we start!!

Firstly, I'd like to thank my friends Lou and Cas (if either of you are reading this, mwah mwah thank you for your help besties!!) for helping me proofread!!! Yall are the best and your suggestions definitely helped bring this work to life <3.

Secondly, feel free not to click this link until you either a. reach the part where they appear or b. finish the entire story, but here is a link to the design for an OC (or alt design, if you will) that appears here. I find having a visual reference helps me, so: https://twitter.com/PeachyQueenly/status/1399134036359106567?s=20.

Finally, just in case, a fair warning that there is an injury (someone loses a finger) and a death in here. I don't think I wrote it too graphically, but pay heed to the T rating.

Such a solemn place...

White Lily had told him it was just an evening trip. Nothing specific, just that she had some business to attend to outside the soaring peaks and sweet valleys of the Vanilla Kingdom. She told him not to worry himself to the point of crumbling... and at first, he felt bad for not believing her mournful eyes.

But now? He was glad to have trusted his judgement rather than her words... for once.

The smell of burnt dough and... batter? Like the lingering smell of the occasional Cake Hound attack. That was the first thing that registered in Pure Vanilla’s senses as he got lost in his friend’s frantic mumblings. Then, he noticed how dark and dreary this place was compared to the sunshine that blessed their home. Even in the deep shrubbery that was White Lily’s personal residence, the faint traces of sunlight could be seen in the sprawling vegetation was in no doubt comforting to one such as her.

Here, however? Nothing but darkness and a foreboding sense that something was... off. As if this was a place no mere Cookie was meant to be.

“The Night of Witches...”

The Night of Witches? He recalled hearing about that back in the two’s school days. Though, no Cookie was able to learn much beyond its name. Something about it being too dangerous for them. Or those who devoted themselves to its research leaving one day— like Lily did after her crime, only to never return. Sentencing their knowledge to secrecy forevermore.

That would all change tonight.

Pure Vanilla had situated himself not far from the display of desserts Lily herself hid behind. That’s when he saw... them.

Even more towering than those grand displays were three figures; cloaked in dark robes and large hats not so different from what the practicing wizards he helped train wore. Yet, their hats lacked the crispy charm their waffle cone attire had. Those jagged edges bringing with it an air of uneasiness—unlike the soft breezes that passed through his kingdom’s canyons.

“...AND WOULD YOU LOOK AT THESE! THEY LOOK AMAZING!”

… huh?

“PHEW! I BAKED A TON OF COOKIES!”

Cookies? Were these the celestials that blessed them with life—

“HERE, TRY ONE! YOU’RE GONNA LOVE IT!”

The crack that reverberated through the air could only be matched by one from all those years ago— that glass-shattering sound which marked his last day as a student of the Blueberry Yogurt Academy. Pure Vanilla never imagined there would be a sound more frightening and life changing than that.

… and yet, that crunch of a Cookie—one of their own—being bitten into. It was enough to turn even one as pure and sweet as he into a trembling mess. One hand covering his mouth as to contain the emotions that threatened to spill out as tears and screams.

White Lily, meanwhile, had never been able to maintain her composure well. Even back when she committed her original sin, the immediate regret and despair she felt was evident in her cries. And her inability to escape the doomed school without the help of her dearest friend. So, it came as no surprise that this revelation sent her into a spiral of mutterings, shaking, and... resolve? No, that last one was surprising. Her insistence that Cookies she hardly knew must escape was a sign of just how much stronger their endeavors with the other three had made her.

All her courage was met with were eerie smiles and silence, however. Perhaps these Cookies had already met their fate... doomed to become the next generation of tragedies.

How cruel... how defeating, Vanilla thought. No one deserved this.

“I...”

“--AAAAAH!”

Pure Vanilla’s eyes shot open as he watched the one dearest to him back away in despair, only to then fall backwards. Off the table edge she was so precariously situated upon. From his view, he had little idea what awaited her... but he was not about to let her find out.

He was not about to let her be subjected to more suffering than she already had.

The beholder always on his person could only glare and roll its eye as Vanilla threw it aside and dashed forward. Jumping into action—literally. He pushed himself forward with the swiftness of the wind, and his hand soon met with her own bandaged one.

He pulled Lily back over the table... throwing himself into the maul of the beast in her stead.

Pure Vanilla could only smile as gravity took hold of him. Smile as he always did... even as the rising heat threatened to crumble him before his body even touched that sickly-looking dough below. Regret could come later. For now, relief came out as a few stray tears and a soft whisper, "Thank you, gods—”

…

White Lily only sat there, wide eyed and shaking as she tried to process what on Earthbread just happened. The soft plop of Vanilla’s poor body made her feel the five four stages of grief in just ten seconds. Denial: there was no way this was happening. Anger: why did this have to happen; why did they have to continue to suffer? Bargaining: please, let the hands of time turn back and reverse this. Depression: this was all her fault.

Acceptance was the logical next step, but it was far too early for such a thing.

Her mouth opened and closed as wordless breaths came from trembling lips. Until, finally, she tried uttering one thing, “Vanilla—”

“WHOSE COOKIE IS THAT?”

Lily quickly covered her mouth, both to stifle her frightened voice and hold back the bile she felt bubbling up. Quickly, she took cover behind a stray plate covered in desserts. Such a sight didn’t do much for the sick feeling in her gut, but at least it offered her cover from the stares of those witches and ever-smiling Cookies.

“LOOK, IT FELL INTO THE ULTIMATE DOUGH!”

Fell? Into the Ultimate Dough? She had little to no idea what this Ultimate Dough was, or what it meant for Pure Vanilla. However, that was perhaps more terrifying than at least knowing her friend’s fate.

“”T’IS ALRIGHT! LET’S JUST BAKE IT AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS!”

… Huh?

“YEAH, LET’S BAKE IT!”

No... please—

“LET’S SEE WHAT FORTUNA HAS IN STORE!”

Thick streams of syrup ran down White Lily’s face. She wanted to scream for this all to cease so badly, and she probably would have if she could. This couldn’t be happening. This endless night... their endless suffering had to end eventually, right? From their mad dash into the night following the destruction she caused, to this night they were taught was beyond sacred...

Her endless mistakes couldn’t continue to doom them both, right!?

She could only sit and watch as those cruel hands of theirs began to knead the dough. How each tool so effortlessly and callously did its job: the flattening done by the rolling pin... the cutting of the dough with a tool she remembered gliding her hand across all those years ago. How cold and hollow such metal had been...

Was Pure Vanilla feeling all of this? All the, no doubt, painful experiences such cruel gods wrought?

White Lily became consumed by thoughts such as these. It was all so gut-wrenching to watch, and yet she couldn’t pull her gaze away. It was all so disturbingly mesmerizing.

Soon, many bodies laid across baking sheets normally used as parchment by Cookies. Could one of them be the friend she’d go to hell and back to save? She almost hoped none of them were. As the unfortunate fate of these Cookies was not lost on her.

How could it be? Such a loud crunch left a stain no amount of scrubbing and scratching could rub off.

All those poor, unfortunate souls were then moved over to the oven almost every Cookie escaped from. Perhaps what were once thought as gods had finally grew tired of their endless torture and torment... for now, at least. Soon, they’d move from simply trying their handiwork to...

No, Lily couldn’t bear to remember what The Night of Witches meant for the Cookies who fell victim to it. To witness to it all again.

She needed to get out of here. Fast.

Trembling, White Lily began forcing her old, tired limbs to move. Her staff acting as a cane to support the weight of both her body, which felt on the verge of crumbling, and her new sins. Someone needed to get out of here. Someone needed to tell this story.

Pure Vanilla’s sacrifice couldn’t be for nothing.

… That was when a wave of doom washed over her. This feeling... this... scent. She knew it well. The smell of molasses and pomegranates: Black Magic unique to the priestesshood they visited as young wizards. How... could the witches have gotten a hold of such magic?

And, more importantly, why did magic familiar to her fill Lily with such fear?

She was given no time to theorize. Rather than the sound of breaking glass or crunching of their fragile bodies, the clanking sound of metal vibrated throughout the room. Catching the attention of anyone conscious to it: including the witches and White Lily. The oven doors... they were slammed wide open through no fault of the ones using them. Whatever the answer was to her previous inquires, it was coming. Soon. She could feel it.

A whisper fell from her lips, “What—”

“Ha... HA.... AH HA HA HA HA HA!”

If her magenta irises could widen any more, they did so as that howl echoed around her. A familiar yet twisted laugh. One that was far too sickeningly sweet to mean good fortune.

It can’t be—

“Haaa... who could have known?” relief and a newfound truth came from the reborn Cookie’s lips. A truth as clear as the finest sugar crystals. “Who could have known it was so simple!! All the world’s problems... they all have one simple answer!!”

Another clang of metal reverberated as it slammed the fork-turned-staff against the oven. The loud noise awakening the thing on its aforementioned staff—revealing a burning cyan iris. Such an intense stare could serve as a declaration of its own, but the staff’s commander still offered its own words to those there to bear witness, “Witches... Cookies... truly, none of them have the right, nor should be given the privilege, to define our fate.”

This can’t be real.

“Reborn in a new body... and with a new name. Yes, you lot may call me Black Molasses Cookie—the one true god of this world.”

Pure Vanilla?, White Lily thought: dumbfounded and speechless.

The Witches, meanwhile, gave Black Molasses not a second of respite. Or rather, one Witch didn’t. That one fool amongst them lunged forward in an attempt to grab what was meant to be a tasty treat to them. No doubt to crush and then... eat him. He was just a Cookie, after all. What harm could he truly cause?

“Ha... foolish—”

Two eyes opened and glared at those who should terrify all Cookies: one a familiar cyan to the trembling wallflower, and the other a red that burned a hole straight through her very soul. “As I just said...” he declared “Only I get to define our fates!!”

Seeming to know what its master wanted, a soft glow emanated from the staff before a beam was fired straight towards the Witch. That which wiped one of her elongated fingers clean off. Not a drop spilled from the cauterized wound, but the smell of burning... something made Lily feel even sicker than she already did.

Meanwhile, Black Molasses laughed as his first victim wailed in agony, “HA HA!! That’s what—” his incoming tirade was interrupted when those wails and screams of the Witches turned into a mad dash, “Awww, leaving so soon? Don’t forget—you left your cakes in the oven!!”

Everything happened so fast. Cake beasts arose at the slam of his staff— awakened by its call. Their feral growls and gnawing were not directed at Cookiekind this time, however. Instead, they chased after the fleeing Witches. Bearing their fangs until they found something to sink their fangs into.

White Lily could only stare in horror at what it was.

Pained and agonized screams left the Witch who, just moments ago, had the misfortunate of losing a finger. If only all she lost tonight was that finger. Now, the beasts’ crunching fangs tore at what was left of her withering body and corrupted soul. Until not a single wail was left. And all that filled the air was a metallic scent and the howling of beasts all too pleased with their work.

“Remember this night well, everyone!!! As, tonight, I have shown the world why I am to be the one who divines and rules above all!!”

The Cakes howled louder at such a declaration.

No. No, this couldn’t be... this wasn’t her dearest friend—

“Waah...”

Finally, a much more pleasant sound registered in White Lily’s senses. A child’s voice. How had she not noticed someone so young was but a few steps away from her. Were they cowering there the entire time? Alone? Regardless, she wouldn’t let them be alone for any longer. “Young one, Do you... we need to...” A surprised gasp came as, upon closer inspection, she noticed, “Your arm—!!”

“My, my~ and what do we have here?”

There was no time for her to push the issue. Quickly, White Lily assumed a defensive position in front of the young Cookie. Or... as defensive of a pose she could assume.

Her gaze betrayed her. For the agony and fear behind her eyes served to show just how despaired she truly was. Just how much she looked at Black Molasses and knew one thing: this was all her fault. Whatever happened next could’ve been prevented if it weren’t for her twisted, curious mind. White Lily had no right to convince him otherwise, and yet she persisted, “Vanilla, I—”

“Ah, you still see that old fool in me, do you now?” not a single ounce of respect was given to what Black Molasses considered a mere fragment of his past, “Tell me, dearest Lillia.” he jeered, “You saw the same thing we all saw. You, me, and even that child... yet you look on at my divine judgement in fear. Why?”

“I...”

He sighed. “Perhaps you consider my methods too cruel? Too beneath Cookies meant to help others?” with every word used to poke at her resolve, he took a step closer to both Lily and the child she kept guard over—blue flames rising and dancing from the back of his gown, “And what of you, young one? What do you think of this night Cookies are told is blessed and holy?”

“Leave them out of--”

“Black... Molasses Cookie...?”

“There, there. I hear you, child.” with a flick of his staff, White Lily was hoisted into the air and thrown to the side like a toy who had long outlived its value. A helpless yelp punctuated the thud that followed. Black Molasses didn’t seem to mind, though. Instead, his focus shifted towards the kid, “You who lost your arm— no doubt to those infernal Witches— understands the need for the world to be rebuilt, yes?”

The child nodded, “Hm... I guess... yes.”

“Then follow me.” A gentle smile accompanied his invitation. “I can not only provide that which you need, but I can also show you a better world. One built in my image... I need but your name and devotion.”

“... Red... Velvet Cookie.” the young one responded. The simple act of sharing his name serving as an allegiance to this new Cookie’s vision.

“I see, Red Velvet...” Black Molasses mused as his hand met with the velvet-soft locks of Red Velvet’s hair. Then, his attention turned back towards Lily, “And as for you~”

The previous impact had left White Lily rather shaken and dazed, on the border of consciousness and unconsciousness. Really, it was surprising she wasn’t out like a light by now. What with the exhaustion that came with tonight’s events and the thud she had experienced earlier.

“Still awake, are we?” a crooked smile, and then Black Molasses held her chin in his hand. Directing what little of an attention span she had left towards him. Only him, “Consider my mercy, in spite of your waywardness, a blessing.” he leaned in close, crooning into her ear “I have great plans regarding you. For now, have sweet dreams... then, warn the world of my name.”

Black Molasses then let Lily’s head drop back down before turning his back to her. Leading Red Velvet away from his disciple with some remaining doubts and back towards the oven. They had a great deal of baking to do, after all. Plenty of baking... especially of one particular soul who deserved the ultimate payback.

“... not that any such warning will stop me, of course.”

And with that, White Lily slipped into unconsciousness. That sickeningly sweet laughter lingering in the air as she hoped this was all just one bad dream...

//Hello!! Peach (Katie) here!!!! I'd like to thank you for reading my work-- it means a lot to me that anyone would be willing to check out my writing. Trying to figure out both White Lily's internal conflicts, and how Black Molasses would differ from Dark Enchantress, was a lot of fun. I definitely want to revisit this AU both in writing and drawing over time!!

If you would be interested in anything else I do (as I'm primarily an illustrator), check me out on Twitter @peachyqueenly, A03 @Peach_KT, and instagram @peach_kt. Thank you so much again, and I look forward to bringing everyone my next creation.

Quick credit to Cookie Run Kingdom for some of the lines-- as some were remained unchanged or slightly edited to fit the scene.

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #white lily cookie #pure vanilla cookie #cookie run oc #black molasses cookie #red velvet cookie

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