#sort of. how long has the game been out. do i need to tag that

[vypridae]

the inky shadow haunts you.

[rrivlet]

hi I would really like to hear the story of you getting kicked out of a museum for being a 9/11 fan

Okay, so lets set the stage here. 9/11 happens. I'm pretty young at the time, and I don't remember shit about it.

Several years pass. I don't remember exactly how old I was, but I wasn't even 10 yet. I develop an absurd obsession with Aviation Disasters. I watch a lot of Seconds from Disaster about this, eventually learning that Human Error is my least favorite cause of incidents because nothing funny happened to the plane.

However.

I learn about 9/11 in school and my first thought is "this is fuckin rad" because there was a big aviation disaster. I love that shit. I learn that this happened because it was deliberate. I then discard this information because it's no longer necessary. Queue the start of my 9/11 Simulation Era.

I use everything. Boxes, cans, whatever is stackable. A few times, I make a cardboard airplane. My parents are none the wiser because they just think I love airplanes (which is true, but only part of it). This goes on for some time.

Now, the museum I mentioned in those tags was called the "Imaginarium" or something like that. Childrens interactive museum. Lotsa fun stuff, and my family took me there often. One of the things they have here (which is, of course, my favorite exhibit) is a flight simulator cabinet.

One day, my obaachan takes me to the Imaginarium. I take my time, perusing through all the exhibits, making the big bubble, playing with the air cannon, all that jazz. All the while, I'm SUPER excited to get to the end, where the flight sim is.

The flight sim is running some version of microsoft flight simulator and is locked on a cesna of some sort. It has fully functioning foot pedals, throttle, and flight control. I eat this shit up every time for as long as whoever is taking me will let me. You probably already know the shape of this.

The space they have you fly over is like, a small city with surrounding countryside. As luck would have it, the city has two buildings of remarkably similar height next to each other. Sure, I'm piloting a cesna and not a passenger liner, but I don't care. I'm in the moment, I'm fucking crazed out of my tiny child MIND about 9/11, and I can do ANOTHER simulation. In my head, I'm the second plane. I get close enough to the ground (having played the simulator a lot, certainly enough to be familiar with the controls), and I set course, full throttle, for the Second Tower.

As I collide (and the plane bounces around because the game doesn't do exploding planes for some reason lol), I say aloud, and very audibly, "Oh my god, they hit the second tower." Or something to that effect.

It's maybe been 5 or so years since 9/11, so while it's not 100% fresh in peoples memories, it's near the surface of a lot of people's minds. The attendant at the counter not far from where I'm sitting looks at me after I say this, makes a 100% correct read on what I'm fucking doing and what's going on, looks at my obaachan and tells her in no uncertain terms that we need to leave and that "this disrespect cannot be tolerated here."

I don't go to that museum again for many many years, and when I do finally return (for a field trip or something), the flight sim is gone.

But it's okay because I pestered a great many of my caretakers (including my foster parent at one point) with my 9/11 sims, and I'd do it again in a fuckin caffeinated heartbeat.

[loverindeepspace]

You have me // Xavier x Reader

I'm back! Xavier doesn't have enough fluffy fics so I'm here to serve you some fluff. Concept: (Pre-relationship) Tara sets you up on a blind date, Xavier gives you a reason not to go. Tags: Fluff, Sprinkle of angst, getting together, first kiss, possibly slight OOC Word Count: 1985 Masterlist

“You have to get out there! All I see you do lately is work, work and work!” Tara’s voice was on the verge of exasperation as she nagged on, “Ever heard of the work-life balance?”

“I do other things besides work! I do plenty!” You argue back halfheartedly, knowing full well that it wasn’t true. You’ve been swamped at work, wanderers seemingly more active than ever and the reports won’t finish themselves, missions after missions seem to come your way every day.

“Oh yeah? Like what? When was the last time you went out? Last time you went and did something fun? Met new people?” She may be right but you weren’t about to back down so easily.

“I hang out with you and Xavier all the time.” 

“We’re your colleagues, we don’t count… Well actually, on that note… How is it going with lover boy?” 

“Taraaaaa, please stop. Nothing is going on between us okay? We are simply mission partners and neighbours.” The grin on Tara’s face makes you want to shove her away, heat rising up your neck and flooding your cheeks. 

“Sureee sure, and you totally don’t make heart eyes at him every time he walks into the room?” And so you do shove her slightly, turning to walk away before more teasing comes your way, but she catches up to you quickly.

“Welllll, since you insist that you two totally don’t have feelings for each other, and you need a break from work… How would you feel about going on a sort-of blind date with a friend of mine? It’s Andy, if you remember him from the last group game night?” She trails off slightly, a mischievous glint still in her eyes. 

“A date? Tara, sorry but no. I don’t have time for dating, between missions and the reports I have to write, I barely have time to eat.”

“You say that, but you still make an effort to hang out with Xavier after work…” 

“That’s different, we live in the same building, it’s not like it’s out of the way…Besides, I haven’t even hung out with him in ages…”

“Come onnnn, it’s just one date, and it’s not like you have to get into a relationship with him if it doesn’t go well. Andy is a great guy, trust me! And god forbid, you might make another friend.”

She gives you her best puppy dog eyes.

Goddammit. 

A sigh leaves your lips as you smile at her in defeat, “Fine. Fineeee. One date. No harm in that right?”

With your words, Tara squeals in excitement, “Yes!! I’ll set you two up, don’t worry about a thing! I’ll send you the details later!!” 

You quickly say your goodbyes to Tara and start walking out of the building, ready to head home and get some sleep. It has been a long few weeks and your lack of rest has started to catch up to you. It was already dark outside as you left, your mind drifting off deep into your thoughts. You did feel slightly guilty about the date, your heart already belonged to another after all. 

Your relationship with Xavier was an odd one… You were neighbours, mission partners and close friends. You spent most of your time together, if not at your apartment, then at his. Movie nights, star gazing, take outs. And somewhere along the line, your feelings started to change, butterflies erupting in your stomach every time his hand grazed yours, heart fluttering when he got a bit too close, his deep blue eyes drawing you into a trance. 

For some time, you thought it might’ve been mutual. His teasing, his slight blush, the way he seemed so at ease with you. But you must’ve been wrong. He pulled away from you much more as of late, going on missions alone, your hang outs become few and far between, he seemed more distant by the day. You missed him honestly, even if he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, you wanted to still be his friend, hang out like you used to. The apartment always felt empty without his soothing presence and soft voice.

Maybe he caught on to you and your feelings and decided to let you down easy by distancing himself?

Maybe this date isn’t such a bad idea, maybe it’s time to move forward and not dwell on these feelings…

“You shouldn’t zone out so deeply when walking home.” A voice snaps you out of your thoughts, your arm swinging out in alarm ready to jab whoever snuck up on you, but was stopped in its tracks with a soft grip. You turn quickly to have a look at the person behind you.

“Xavier! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” He has the audacity to look amused as he lets go of your arm.

“I tried calling out your name but it seems you were so deep in thought you didn’t hear me,” raising his hands in surrender, he gives you an innocent look, a playful glint still shining in his eyes. A plastic bag hangs from one arm, filled with what looked like snacks.

You let out a long breath, adrenaline leaving you as you give him a joking glare, “You out for a snack run?” 

You walked side by side back to the apartment building, conversation flowing naturally, almost like he had never distanced himself at all. It was nice, cozy even, in the familiarity and ease it brings you. 

“Want to come up for a movie night? It’s… been a while since we hung out...” His voice trails off at the end, looking away almost… sheepishly? So he did notice. The avoidance was on purpose then.

But you didn’t let those thoughts take over, you meant it when you said you still wanted to be his friend, no matter how much it hurt. You smile quickly and agree.There was almost an awkwardness that sprouted in the air between the two of you as you stepped into his apartment. It was the same as the last time you were there a few weeks ago, if not slightly messier than usual.

“You set up some movies, I’ll order us some food… same as usual?” You say trying to lighten the atmosphere, as you sit on the couch, phone at the ready.

“Yeah… Sounds good.” He sits next to you, closer than he’d usually would, an observation that doesn’t go unnoticed by you, your heart skipping a beat. Fumbling with your phone, you order quickly and put it down on the coffee table in front of you as Xavier scrolls through the movies available, eventually settling on one. 

A… rom-com? 

You glance at him, confusion written on your face. That is definitely not something Xavier would usually watch, it’d normally be a sci-fi movie or the odd thriller, but a rom-com? That’s new.

Noticing your questioning gaze, he cleared his throat, “I’ve heard some great reviews about this one. Thought… I’d see what the fuss was about.” 

His eyes were fixed to the screen moments later.

His ears were red.

What’s happening?

Is- Is this-?

No. It can’t be. What did we say about giving yourself false hope?

But he’s sitting so close! And a romance movie? He’s blushing!

Stop. It’s nothing. This doesn’t mean anything.

 A chime of your phone broke the silence, the slight tension dissipating. 

Tara: All set up!! You good with tomorrow at 7pm? Andy will meet you at the Thai restaurant by work! :D 

Shit. You had forgotten about the date. You snatch your phone from the coffee table, hesitating in your reply, cheeks burning, Xavier’s laser focused gaze drifting between your phone and your face. 

“You okay? Was that Tara?” So he had seen the screen. 

“Yeah… funny story actually…” your voice is weak, “ she’s trying to set me up with her friend Andy. She… is organising a date for us…” You aren’t sure why you feel so embarrassed, it’s not like you are doing anything wrong, you and Xavier aren’t together in that way, so why do you feel like digging a hole and burying yourself in it? The redness in your cheeks deepens under the intense stare pointed your way.

“A… date?” He asks slowly, as if he’s processing the information, his face a blank canvas. You nod meekly, trying to gauge his reaction, but he gives nothing away. 

“With Tara’s friend? Someone you know?”

“Well, we haven’t really spoken properly, but he was there last time the group went out for drinks…” 

“So you’re going on a date with someone you don’t even know?” There was an edge to his voice now, his brow furrowed as stared at you. 

“Tara said he’s a great guy, and that I needed to get out there… So what’s the harm, right?” You don’t know if you’re trying to reassure yourself or him at this point. 

“If he’s so great, why didn’t he ask you out himself?”

“He doesn’t have my number?”

“Exactly. You don’t know him. You can’t know what his intentions are. This doesn’t sound safe.” He glances away, but still seems tense, jaw clenching slightly, the makings of a pout forming on his lips. You sigh slightly in response, the redness in your face starting to settle down.

“Tara’s right though, I need to get out there. All I do lately is work, missions and reports are taking over my life. I haven’t even seen you in weeks, so I gotta start somewhere right? Why not start there?” He stays silent for what seemed like hours, the movie still playing in the background but forgotten entirely. His brows remained furrowed, eyes unfocused, still turned away from you. The night crept on, tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. You kept glancing at him but not once did he look at you. 

“But why start with a date with someone you don’t even know?” Finally, he turned to you, his eyes observing you, searching for something.

“It’s not like I’ve got a line of suitors, might as well try to meet someone new right?” 

He pursed his lips in thought. 

“You have me.” 

He said it so softly, you barely caught it. 

What?

“...What?” You breathe out, eyes widening. Is he saying what I think he’s saying?

“You have me. I…” He takes a deep breath, reaching out for your hand that sits on your leg, “Don’t go on this date. I’ll take you out, if you give me this chance?” His eyes are searching your face, showing the nerves he’s working hard to hide. 

Your breath catches in your throat, “Xavier… What exactly do you mean?” Your voice is soft with disbelief, wary to let yourself hope just yet. He gives you a small smile, lifting his hand to tuck some stray hair behind your ear, keeping it there.

“I mean, I want to take you out on a date. I mean that I like you, I have feelings for you. I know I’ve been distant, I’m really sorry, I just couldn’t afford to lose you. You… You are my everything.” He is all you see, his face, his blue eyes, the light dusting of freckles, a light blush creeping onto his cheeks. This is happening right? He feels the same? 

You take that chance, the chance that these feelings are reciprocated, and you lean in. You lean in, until your lips meet his. It’s a gentle touch at first. And then he starts kissing you back, leaning in further and deepening the kiss. You feel his breath leave him as he sighs into the kiss, his hand travelling to your cheek, cradling you carefully. 

Eventually you pull away, air rushing back into your lungs.

“So, you’re not going on that date right?” He breathes out, a playful smirk playing on his lips. A laugh leaves you, as you pull him towards you again.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Tear In My Heart

Aemond never cared for tourneys, for hunts, nor for any sort of pageantry; he supposed marriage fell in that category. To be frank, he never cared for you either, but then he heard whispers about you and his brother, and then thought, maybe he somehow did.

Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon!Reader x Aegon Targaryen | 2k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has baratheon feature (dark hair), wife!reader, arranged marriage, jealousy, possessiveness, infidelity, men being men, angst, violence/hunting for sport/death, typos, etc.

A/N: mind the tags! This is part of my graduation celebration 🩷🩷🩷🩷 slayed college. Let's pretend I posted this on schedule lmao. The hotd trailers really brought me to life. Part of this fic is inspired by the 2014 french beauty and the beast film.

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @delicious-xx @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @slavyanskiyahui @thebullship @sa3losa @lxdyred

Brother.

What was he?

The word was a stone, heavy but worthless. Nothing ever came from a brother besides bluntness, brashness, and bludgeoning burdens.

No kindness befell Aemond from his brother Aegon. Likewise, Aegon long knew to expect nothing but vexation from Aemond.

Yet even the most broken of bonds are bound back under the great unifier— Death.

Never before had the brothers worked towards a common goal so fast, so easily, and all without needing to utter a word. Together, they carry their game back to their camp, equally ignoring the burn of their arms.

Aemond loathed hunting expeditions. He loathed it then, he wholeheartedly abhorred it now. He regrets forcing himself into this godforsaken trip. He should have let you go on it alone, like always.

He regrets letting his slimy older brother getting under his skin. He regrets listening to all the rumors about Aegon and you. But in his defense—

"I MAY BE BLIND IN ONE EYE," Aemond snaps, causing you to flinch. He had never raised his voice at you like this before. He despises how shocked you look, how your bright eyes accused that he was wrong. It makes him fume, "but I see clearer than most."

Aemond is further irritated when your eyes began to water.

You, who was otherwise so well-kept and pristine, were falling apart in front of him. The wayward strands of dark hair framing your face irked him. The momentary thought of his children inheriting this trait added fuel to his anger. If, that is, whatever child you'd bear was even his to begin with.

"You are whoring yourself to my bovine brother!"

Your chest heaves heavily beneath your nightgown, "you would happily believe any slander to my name."

He scoffs when tears begin to fall from your cheeks. He paces towards the bed, unbothered if the issue is left unresolved. He'd rather sleep than watch you sob. The latter left a rather bitter taste in his mouth.

"What have I been but docile and serving?"

"Serving?" Aemond turns back, one eye narrowed, "to whom? Your greed and lust?"

"TO YOU!"

Aemond slightly pulls his head back, not expecting you to scream. He watches a spirit take over you. It was similar to that of the one that sometimes causes him to stare at you from across the room.

You suck in a breath, "do you not complain about Aegon day in and day out?" You blink rapidly and point harshly, "do you not wish him away and want him out of your hair, husband?"

"Don't you twist the truth for your-"

"I played his keeper so that you wouldn't have to," you motion, "I kept him in check so that you could do your errands, help your grandfather, go on your dragon rides, and yet you say you see clearer than most?"

"I saw you," he hisses, grabbing your shoulders.

You gasp and go rigid.

"I saw you embrace him in the cloak of night, in the corner of the gardens, where you thought no one could see."

You catch betrayal in his words, but it only causes you to chuckle dryly, "had you not lurked in the darkness, you'd have known he vomited on my shoulder and nearly passed out. Perhaps you would have felt compelled to help me drag him to his chambers."

Aemond clenches his jaw. He does not believe you.

You swat his hands away. You shake your head, "you're just a man. You're bored of what you have and want what you cannot."

"Ha. You are delusional if you think I want you."

You cannot help the sound that leaves your lips. You cannot help how you slap a hand to your mouth.

In that split second, Aemond spots the hurt on your face before you walk past him to your side of the bed.

You pull the covers down, "worry not. I've long accepted you will never want me."

"Oh," he growls, grabbing your arm before you can sit down, "and is that why you turn to my brother? Or why you leap at every chance to leave?'"

You wince as you turn to him.

"Now that I think about it, why is it you're invited to hunting expeditions so often?" Aemond demands under an angered breath, "d'you seek refuge in the-"

"I RUN INTO THE FOREST!" you hiss, shoving him away. His grip left a sting on your flesh and you rub it as you continue to burstp, "I run into the forest and let my instincts take over! I let myself shift into a beast and I run wild like a deer, begging to be shot down."

Aemond expression sours at your reaction.

"I live my curse as a Baratheon woman and morph into a doe, bullied by stags and dragons alike," you shudder, tears running down your face.

"Don't you play the victim here," he rebuts, "your family offered you to mine for power."

"Then why is it that I am so powerless, husband?"

Aemond doesn't bother watching you walk away, slamming the door shut on your way out.

Aggravation spills from his mouth through screams when silence drowns him. There is an ache in his chest that intensifies. It doesn't take long for him to question why he felt so hurt when what he was is angry, angry at you.

He then finds himself imagining you throwing yourself at Aegon, weeping on his lap. He imagines Aegon brushing your dark tresses back and drying your tears. It infuriates him more.

And as he convinced himself whilst in fumes that the reason why he hated your leave was how rudely you left, parts of his nightmares where coming true.

Aegon saw you storming down the hall in nothing but a nightgown, a cloak, and tears. He was too drunk to actually ascertain if you had no shoes on, but he was partially sure that there were truly tears running down your neck.

He was shocked by how shocked you were when he grabbed you by the arms and stopped you in your tracks. He knew you to have eyes that could spot a needle in a haystack, or real jewels from fake ones ten paces away. How could you not have noticed him when he wasn't even trying to hide how he staggered down the halls on his way back to his room?

"Spooked, kitty cat?" Aegon furrows his brows.

Your skin definitely had a damp sheen to it. Your gaze upon him somehow always hurt his thorax but it was amplified now with how puffy and red your eyes were.

"Where 'r'you storming off to?" he slurs.

You push him away, but even then you managed to offer consideration, as it was clear he was one shove away from dropping. You say, "unhand me, Aegon. I have no time for you tonight."

He pouts, blinking slowly, "and here I thought we were friends now."

You laugh. Your laugh has always had the power to make his spine tingle, but it was different this time. You shake your head, "the enemy of my enemy is not my friend."

Aegon slowly releases you. He clenches his jaw and sighs, "so it's Aemond who did this."

You scoff as you break away from him, "oh, spare me."

He watches you walk away from him. He feels hurt by your coldness. How quickly Aemond reaps your warmth. He calls out, "from what?"

You stop and snap from over your shoulder, "from whatever it is you think you can do!"

He was sober now, and his throat was dry at that.

"My burden is mine. I am his wife."

"And am to be king," he whispers, taking a step forward. He watches as you heave. He's long wondered what it would feel like to hear it as you did so beneath him.

"But you are not king," you reply, stepping back to maintain the space between you, "and you have your sister wife."

"Who would deny me?" he peers his face closer to you, "even a fool would deny me nothing."

"I would," you rebut.

He freezes.

"I am prize to you," you muffle out. Your manage an even voice even as hurt baptizes your cheeks, "meat between your teeth. You and him are cut from the same cloth."

"I AM NOT MY BROTHER, " Aegon snaps.

You flinch, just as you did Aegon. You shake your head and force a smile, "of course not, your grace."

The next moment, Aegon realizes he may not have been as sober as he thought, considering how quickly you fled him and how delayed his reaction to it was.

But then again, it was probably just you and your effect on him. After all, he managed to evade the incoming attack from behind, albeit momentarily; Aemond's senses were far shaper than Aegon's.

He grabs his older brother by the collar and shoves him against the wall. "All my life, I watched you be spoon-fed your desires, yet still you covet my bride," the younger Targaryen rages.

Aegon grins in challenge. He chuckles, "as it appears, you covet your own wife from me, brother."

Without warning, the first born is hurtled to the ground. He lets out an undignified grunt after he collides with the stone. He gasps when Aemond lunges at him.

It was only at this moment, he realized his brother without his eye patch. Dare he say that the sight of the sapphire added to the madness in is functioning eye.

Aemond produces a dagger and presses it to Aegon's neck. The former seethes, "I have every right to demand satisfaction from you."

Aegon groans when the cold steel kisses his skin too tenderly.

"You wouldn't last a second against me," the prince spits with venom, "brother."

"Do it then," Aegon screws his eyes shut, "and watch your marriage crumble before your very eyes."

Aemond throws his dagger to the side and slams Aegon once, "DO NOT TRY TO TRICK ME! I saw her reel from your touch."

"Oh," he utters through pain, "just as she reels from you, I bet."

Aemond releases him with a growl and heaves while looking down at him. He paces around; Aegon props himself up on his elbows, slowly coming to a stand.

Before Aegon can goad him on any further, Aemond grabs his dagger and pushes past him.

Both of them anxiously await your return that night. Aegon falls asleep whilst waiting for word from a servant, Aemond fights sleep whilst waiting for you to return to bed.

Yes, in Aemond's defense, the rumors about you and his brother was enough reason to pick a fight. In his defense, it was his right.

And for the first time, when you received invite for that hunting expedition with your cousin, no longer did he send you off on your own. He was keen to keep you at his side at all times, especially because Aegon weaseled his way into joining.

Aemond did not know why your cousin was so against the idea of hunting a stag. He was, in fact, offended by the Baratheon's adamant decline. The lesser lord dared even imply such a beast was beyond his caliber. He wasn't surprised you sided with your him, imploring Aemond to try his hand another season. What spurred him on was how Aegon agreed with you and how you looked at him when he smiled your way.

Yet, the spite he bore for his brother was the same thing that led to cooperation with him.

That night, when you thought he was sleeping, Aemond followed you outside. When you were nowhere to be seen when he got out of your shared tent, he stormed to his brother's, sure to catch you in the act.

All he got was a startled brother, cuddling up to a pillow when he ripped his blanket off, a naked one at that.

And after a bit of arguing, Aemond saw a shadow of a deer passing outside the tent. That was how the brothers ended up in the forest. Aemond was intent to hunt that stag and Aegon was intent to watch him fail.

Again, in his defense, it was dark. In his defense, of course he wouldn't believe Aegon when he said that they were stalking a doe and not a stag.

Aemond was satisfied with his shot when he heard the beast cry out in pain. Aegon was satisfied when they found the writhing deer to be, in fact a doe.

It was common knowledge not to hunt the female of a species, yet the two debated whether or not they should let the injured animal go free or put it out of its misery. They thought they received the answer when the animal dropped in agony, but instead they received horror that would last them lifetimes upon witnessing the beast morph into a bride.

Your bare body laid before them, stomach pierced with an arrow. No traces of a doe was left, there was only pain and you. Tremors took over your body. Yolur tears flowed as steady as the blood from your gaping wound.

Aemond fell to your side, eye wide as he reached out to you. He thought a touch of your trembling flesh wake him from this nightmare, but it didn't. His mind raced, but he had a moment of clarity when he felt your blood dampen his knees.

He took off his shirt and covered you. You screamed in pain when he tried to carry you by himself, and he glared at his brother when he tried to help.

Aemond does not stop him however, thus, the brothers carried your body back to camp.

When you were laid on your shared bed, Aemond ordered Aegon to wake everyone and ready a carriage back to the city. His brother runs off to do just that.

"This will hurt," Aemond tells you, "but I must cut part of the arrow and bind your wound."

Before he can do so, you wet his face with the blood on your hand as you whine, "why do you weep for me?"

Aemond's brows furrow.

You swipe your thumb on his cheek with great difficulty. "Soon you will have the freedom you desire," you mumble, eyes slowly closing, "as will I."

The pain that courses through you when your husband breaks off part of your arrow prevents you from passing out.

As an extra precaution, Aemond taps your cheek, "keep your eyes fixed on me."

Your sad eyes open. Your tears gush down like rain.

"Is this why you're invited to hunt so often?" he cups your cheek, shaking you slightly, "does your cousin, himself, turn into a stag?"

Your reply does not come easy. You speak between your breaths, "it is a curse from my father... for hunting so many of them..."

There is commotion from outside your tent.

Aemond has the mind to grab some fabric to press on your wound. You cry out again because of this.

"Why didn't you tell me of your affliction?" he speak in panic.

Stabbing pain cuts off the laugh you meant to laugh. Your breath shortens, yet you manage a response, "would you have listened?"

He must admit, all the prayers he ever prayed were only uttered to please his mother, but as Aemond held half your body in the carriage back to King's Landing, as he watched Aegon's tears fall onto you while he held your other half, he prayed as earnestly as any pious man would. He claimed he would be better, he would even share you, if that is what it took to keep you.

And just as easily as Death unified the Targaryen brothers, she collected your soul the same night.

[steviewashere]

Steve and Eddie being teenage boys (even in their twenties, even though they technically are no longer teenagers), a list that I've been making in my head (some of them are stupid and some of them are sweet, but this is a long list, be warned):

Steve teaching Eddie how to burp the alphabet after drinking soda. He's phenomenal at it. Like...almost disgustingly so. It ends up turning into a one up competition pretty fast after that.

Eddie who knows how to drag race and takes Steve on ridiculously fast drives down empty streets at night (when Steve's had a terrible night). He steps on the gas and goes: "Weeee!!!" as they speed. (Please don't speed. It is dangerous. But for the sake of entertaining their pea brains, this is what they do.)

Eddie and Steve who have been participating in a several month long tagging game. They slap each other on the back of shoulders as hard as they possibly can before skittering off like a little goblin.

Steve and Eddie think it's soooo fucking funny to blow up condoms like balloons when they're stoned.

Steve and Eddie who get stoned and they go shop for munchies at the local grocery store, both hysterically giggling at figuring out how to be "normal" people in public. (They are failing miserably.)

Steve who makes Eddie play basketball with him sometimes. And then he purposefully tosses the ball at Eddie rather than the basket. It devolves into wresting in the grass, heads in elbows, knuckles across scalps, kicking each other in the shins.

One time, Steve falls asleep at Eddie's on the couch. And instead of being all sweet and doting, Eddie finds a marker and draws a penis on Steve's face. He gets water poured on his head the next time he falls asleep at Steve's as payback.

Steve and Eddie comforting each other through nightmares and hardships and healing injuries, both in sort of constipated, mumbled ways. Pats to the back and leaning in close to each other, resting heads on shoulders. Passing cigarettes or beers back and forth just to pass the time, not really talking. Exchanging words afterwards like, "You're a great friend," and "You're the best person I know." Because they both need that and recognize that, even outside of the petty, childish things they do to each other.

Eddie, who understands that the pool at Steve's is a sore spot, instead of prodding them to get in, he plans out a whole water balloon fight to stave off the summer heat.

Steve, who knows that music has been a source of calm for Eddie over the years, makes sure there's always a cassette that Eddie can play in case it gets too quiet.

Eddie and Steve who shit talk each other in the arcade, beating each other's high scores if only to rile the other one up.

Steve who always checks Eddie's ID before he goes into the adult only room in Family Video. Despite knowing that Eddie is definitely over the age of eighteen. Sometimes he denies Eddie entry in front of Keith just to make him pout. (He thinks it's cute.)

Eddie and Steve watching porn together, criticizing the moans the entire time because they know for sure it's fake. And on the same note of moans, Eddie who gets a call from Wayne and Steve fake moans in the background the entire time. Steve gets a call from his parents and Eddie shouts really loud in the background for Steve to pass the joint back. They just glare at each other before getting in another tag fight throughout wherever they're at.

Eddie who goes into Family Video after Steve strikes out again. Who just walks up to the counter and starts acting like one of those girls, twirling his hair and pouting his lips and blinking his eyes, making his voice high pitched. (It gets Steve to giggle instead of pout, so Eddie calls it a win.)

Eddie guzzling an entire can of Coke and then spraying it out of his nose when Steve makes him laugh too hard. Steve's never made anybody laugh that hard.

Steve and Eddie who claim it's not gay to make their boners kiss. I mean...what? Who said that?

Steve and Eddie who play-punch a little too hard when playing punch buggy on vacation.

Speaking of vacation, Steve and Eddie going to a beach over the summer. They chase each other up and down the sand. They roll off of the sand hills. Eddie buries Steve in the sand and applies sunscreen to his face as he just accepts his fate. Steve helps Eddie make a sandcastle, a secret talent of his being how structurally sound he can build one.

Steve and Eddie playing with Legos while talking shit about Family Video customers. They toss Sour Patch Kids into each other's mouths as they talk. Sometimes hitting each other in the face purposefully.

Steve and Eddie who get drunk one night and go catch a wild possum. Robin screams at them to put it back because, "No, you dinguses, that is not a cat!"

Eddie and Steve taking care of each other on bad pain days. Trying to entertain the other with stupid jokes or shitty movies or gossip.

Eddie sharing his uncle with Steve when he finds out that Mr. and Mrs. Harrington are terrible motherfuckers. Who makes sure Steve is comfortable in his home around Wayne.

Steve conspiring with Wayne to make sure that Eddie always has the best birthday parties. Because the one thing he really held onto from his King Steve years was how to throw a small get together, and how, especially, to make it extremely awesome and memorable.

Steve who gets Eddie new albums he's been eyeing for his birthday. Ones Eddie knows he'd never be able to afford on his own, always a little sullen when he looks at the price. Steve who still has access to his dad's credit card and will max it out just for Eddie to get his fill.

Eddie makes homemade things for Steve's birthday. Cards and trinkets and drawings—things Steve's old high school buddies never considered as gifts, even though they have the most impact on Steve, even though they matter the most.

Steve and Eddie who love each other, insurmountably. Despite sometimes being major buttheads to each other.

[borkunlimited]

Take Your Time, Miss Deer (Sylus x Reader) - Ch. 4

In a tailor shop tucked in the calmer side of the N109 zone is a little room where all clothes of many different designs come together under the delicate hands of an unassuming deer living in the den of all sorts of beasts and sitting on them is the dragon who wears your clothes.

Your many interactions with Skye, Mr. Sylus’ messenger or-

-Sylus is waiting for you to finally figure out he is playing his own messenger.

A Deer Hybrid! Reader x Dragon Hybrid! Sylus Fic

Tags: Sylus x Reader, Hybrid AU, Suggestive Themes, Fluff, Predator/Prey, Self-Harm

Chapter Summary: Horns. Antlers. A long tail with smooth scales. A short tail. If those are gone, then both of you are almost the same, right?

Author's Note: Some lines have references to existing media. I have been playing Disco Elysium every now and then with a dash of Reverse 1999. Still going with the main themes tackled by Beastars and BNA though but you know, I really do love certain lines from these games that I just want to put it in here as well.

Enjoy!

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

4: My Dearest, Generous

A little downpour has visited the N109 zone today.

It was close to the afternoon when you heard the soft pitter patter against the windows of your studio that is steadily increasing intensity within each passing minute and you immediately rushed to close them one by one, not wanting water to get inside and ruin the patterns and the fabrics you have prepared to sew for tomorrow.

You were about to close the last window when a small, dark figure zoomed past you, spreading droplets on the wooden floor.

It looks like your odd little crow friend has decided to take shelter here at your studio.

Daisy settled on one of the armchairs, shaking the excess rainwater that clung on its feathers, letting out an indignant caw before preening itself.

“I know. It is quite sudden,” you chuckled softly, locking the last window with your ears flicking away little beads of rainwater that clung on your fur.

Daisy seemed to also agree and it let you remove the damp good luck ribbon you have made for it. It is a little worse for wear now so maybe it is time to make a new one. 

Perhaps something more stylish? The image of your crow friend wearing a scarf made you smile. Very fitting because it is becoming colder but for now, another good luck ribbon with the color it prefers should do.

“It’s alright. I won’t throw it away,” you assured it when it hopped along with you, worried where you would put its cherished item.

Will you repair it? Mephisto thinks you can. 

If its master can repair its circuits easily then it thinks you can do the same. You seemed very capable of fixing everything after seeing you stitch together large tears on the twins’ jacket before so it also means piecing back its worn ribbon should be easy to you.

For Mephisto, it doesn’t matter if its good luck charm is slightly damaged (What do you mean it's hanging by a thread?) All the affections you have poured into that ribbon will always be there no matter how it looks and it feels rather naked now that you have removed it.

Your finger grazed against the old wood of the cabinet while you hum absentmindedly, counting the number of the rows of shelves that store everything you need to sew any of your clients’ requests.

‘Oh, dear stranger journeying to a far off land, how many days must pass till I see you again?’

Third column from the left of the cabinet. Above where you keep the little boxes of buttons of various colors, all neatly organized, and then you finally pull out the drawer to retrieve a box inside of it.

Your crow flapped up to your sewing table, watching you set the item and it hopped in excitement.

Mephisto knows this particular box. This is a box where you store all of its trinkets it gave to you (Fine, and its master’s too.)

It was one of the few belongings you brought along before you left the place you once called home with your father. 

A little gift to you when you were young by an old hybrid couple after you knitted them scarves. You never quite remember their faces anymore but even then, the memory of their gratitude lingered, the playful pinch on your cheeks when you handed them their scarves wrapped in brown paper and twine.

“Do you want me to play it?”, you asked Daisy, opening the box to reveal the various precious ores and gemstones resting together with the dried flowers your crow has brought for you.

All of it, hidden in one place, little memories preserved and forever cherished.

Mephisto let out a beep, a yes, its optics adjusting to take a recording once again of this little moment that it may or may not hold over its master’s head (Again) upon its return to the base when the rain subsides.

You nodded in approval, tying around Daisy’s old ribbon around one of the horns of the little black dragon figurine sitting inside the box then turned the key.

A soft melody began playing and both you and Daisy watched the black dragon spin among the field of red blossoms painted in the background as if it was chasing the white ribbon on its horn, a lonesome game but still fun while the two of you looked back at your reflections on the small mirror.

Mephisto pushed the top of its head under your chin, nuzzling you and you laughed softly, petting its back while you listened to the gentle lullaby.

“Quite a downpour, don’t you think?”

Your heart skipped a bit, the lullaby cut short as you immediately closed the box, pushing it near the pile of fabrics beside you. 

These impromptu guests of yours always catch you off guard. Perhaps it comes with their innate trait of being able to make their presence hidden until they choose to reveal themselves.

Or so you thought.

The door shut with a soft click, your surprise visitor making his way towards you and your eyes widened. His footsteps were quiet, almost like Skye’s and twins’ but how is it possible? How is it possible when you and the person standing across your table are certainly alike, are of-

-the same species.

You nodded slowly, and Daisy hopped between you and your visitor, silently assessing this newcomer, one of the many who had made themselves comfortable in your studio.

“Louis,” the deer hybrid said, raising his hand for you to shake which you returned, telling him your name in return but not like you need to tell him, he already knows about you anyways. Everyone who has transactions with Sylus is fully aware of who you are.

The seamstress who dresses all the wolves of this den in sheep’s clothing.

The deer fiercely guarded by the dragon kept in this hidden corner of the N109 zone.

The object of Sylus’ affections.

Or, from people who harbors deep hatred to Sylus-

Sylus’ well-seasoned meal.

“What brings you here, Mister Louis?”, you asked politely, your hands on your lap. You haven’t seen this deer before. 

Is he a new resident here in the N109 zone? 

He is well-dressed, clearly wealthy, and the cut of his clothes fit him well. 

His eyes lingered on Mephisto and he knew that this was the  little heathen made by Sylus to carry out his commands. One of his three errand runners  as people said who goes about doing his dirty work on his behalf. 

That dragon really does keep a close eye over you, doesn’t he?

It was almost concerning. A predator hybrid and prey hybrid spending too much time with each other spells trouble. Is Sylus fattening you up? A meal reserved for a special occasion?

“I heard you are Sylus’ personal tailor,” he said, walking around your studio, studying the clothes on display.

“Yes, but more like his lead tailor,” you corrected him, your eyes watching him closely. It has been so long since you have met your own kind. Is it comforting? Maybe, “He still has other tailors as well.”

“Did he come here often?”

“Oh, never.”

“Never?”

“Yes, he has yet to pay us a visit.”

His eyes narrow slightly at you. The word in the streets is that you and Sylus are seen together more often and people have claimed that he is very forward on his affections to you, how his tail wrapped around your waist, and even how he gazed at you as if when you tell him to jump, he will ask how high you want.

“He only sends his people here,” you continued but you caught the subtle hint of confusion in his gaze and then you added, “Good people.”

Good people?

A brief look of surprise crossed your visitor’s face. Did he hear that right?

You think those wolf cubs, that crow between you, and Sylus of all people are good ? 

Maybe it is true that every hybrids like you and him indeed lost their instincts when they stepped here in the N109 zone which is why your lot has to look after each other just in case, just in case that the beasts who reside here decide to remove their masks and hurt you just like how the humans did outside. 

Because you prey hybrids are just so damn pitiful.

“It didn’t cross your mind that they would hurt you?”

“Everyone who entered this room didn’t.”

“There will always be the first.”

“I trust them more over the humans,” you replied. His concern is valid, of course, and Mister Louis here isn’t the first prey hybrid who expressed his worry over you being friendly with any of your visitors.

Your father is a different case, though, who is specifically worried about Skye.

Skye, of all people.

Skye who never crossed the line when he was here. Skye who doesn’t have to stay but chose to. Skye who helps you if he doesn’t have to.

But you know their concern stems from reality. 

Humans. 

Predator hybrids. 

Prey hybrids. 

That’s how the hierarchy goes. That’s how it has always been. Your kind stood in a delicate balance, docile enough in the eyes of the humans that you are taken advantage of often and weaker than the weakest predator hybrid as long as they have fangs to nip and claws to scratch.

“We’re deers by the end of the day.”

“I know but even then, it doesn’t make much difference.”

If anything, predator or prey, you are all just animals in the eyes of humans.

Tainted blood.

“I appreciate your concern, Mister Louis,” you added politely, giving him a small smile. “But it wouldn’t be fair for us to judge them easily when they haven’t harmed any of us here so far.”

Louis studied you closely. You genuinely do believe that all of you hybrids are equal.

How naive. How idealistic.

It will take centuries or more for prey and predator hybrids to get along and another more for hybrids and humans.

But then again, your father did mention to him you would rather run towards the nearest predator hybrid when in danger than seek help from a human.

“You’re an odd deer, Miss,” he chuckled softly.

He pushed a small package towards you wrapped in old newspaper.

“But just so you know, I heard dragons play with their prey before they eat them alive.”

────────────────────

Sylus adores the subtle signs of affection every time he is visiting you.

The faint blush on your cheeks when he stepped in to observe what you were doing. How you automatically shift closer when his tail is wrapped around your waist or when you listen to his words, your ears flicking while you pay attention.

His species in particular are naturally warm yet he only grew to understand the value of another person’s warmth every time he is with you and if he only can pull you closer, it is an irrevocable fact that you will be the warmest treasure he ever had held in his hands.

Not because of the blood pumping on your veins.

But because of the peaceful grace you have with you.

The deer doesn’t need to step out of her meadow if anything. He had already stepped foot on your paradise under the sunlight that passed the trees and if he can, he doesn’t want to leave the only place that treated him with sincere kindness.

Today, Sylus has been eagerly looking forward to his visit despite the sudden downpour. 

As if a little rain would stop him from seeing his favorite deer and as usual, he is not one to be in your shop without gifts for you.

He gave your father an easy smile and the older deer simply nodded in return, a polite greeting, when the dragon hybrid passed by him.

Thirty steps from the entrance of your shop to the hallway and another set of ten from the hallway to your studio. Oh, Sylus can’t wait to see his hardworking darling and he was halfway to your studio when he stopped, his ears picking up your sweet voice from behind the closed door and well, well, what’s this?

His eyes narrowed, picking up the scent of another guest. Another deer hybrid just like you and-

-A male one.

Your voices were muffled by the walls of your studio but he would always recognize the always gentle and polite tone you used when talking to anyone.

Then, the door opened and Sylus immediately piece together the identity of the newcomer you were just talking to earlier.

He isn’t one to forget the name to the face, afterall.

A young upstart in the N109 zone trying to make a name and recently, the little birds had told him that this one is creating a small association for all prey hybrids living here, not that Sylus minds.

He caught the familiar scent of fear from the male deer hybrid but this one was able to put all of his apprehension under a nonchalant expression laced with subtle defiance.

This gaze is all too familiar to him at this point.

This visitor of yours does not like him.

“I was told you had never set foot in this shop,” the deer hybrid started, not looking away from Sylus.

Brave, perhaps there is a reason why this one managed to reel the leashes of all the predators following his orders but he has a thought that this particular hybrid will be a little nuisance.

“And what exactly have you been told?”, Sylus asked casually, studying the newcomer. A good looking one but he is aware your father wouldn’t set you up with anyone, not when the older deer had gotten the message loud and clear that he is pursuing you.

“The miss said you only send good people in this shop,” the deer hybrid answered, as if piecing together your words and Sylus’ presence, “That Sylus himself never set foot here. Not even once.”

“Is this miss lying, Sylus?” the deer hybrid continued, letting go of the door handle, “Or are you deceiving the poor girl?”

“You’re quite a detective, aren’t you?”

“I took it as my responsibility to look after people here who get too cozy with predators like you.”

“Are you implying I am going to snap and attack her one day?”

“There are too many cases of your kind that did,” the deer hybrid countered. 

These answers, these excuses. 

The same lines recited by predators who thought they could reel in their natural instincts and not harm the prey hybrids they claimed they love and adore.

“Oh really? I suppose you have a solution for that? Locking my sweetheart away just to make sure she is safe from the big bad dragon,” Sylus replied, taking a few steps forward but the deer hybrid did not seem to falter.

Sweetheart.

So the words are true. Sylus is indeed courting you in his own twisted way.

“No, my solution is not drastic,” the male retorted, walking towards him until they were shoulder to shoulder. “You still seemed a reasonable man so just a word of advice-”

“-Pursue your own kind and leave her alone.”

The newcomer walked away but Sylus can’t shake the audacity of this upstart. 

Why? 

Why do people think that he can’t love you or be loved by you just because of your differences?

If you removed your antlers and he cut his horns, both of you would have been humans and no one would bat an eye.

Sylus took a deep breath, the faint scent of rain still clung to his hair and clothes, calming him down slightly and even when the smell of your previous visitor hung about, he could still shift through all the mixed scents and pick up the aroma of cotton and wildflowers.

The scent of you.

It was more than enough to soothe him and then, he opened the door to your studio, ready to see you.

The tension that lingered on his interaction with your previous visitor breaks, in this room, in the garden of fabrics and threads where there is only the two of you, the world is a distant away. 

The ocean of chaos in his heart slowly subsides.

In this little piece of paradise, a small voice emerges. Yours .

The dearest thing he wants to hear for his remaining days.

“Skye, quite a rain we are having, don’t you think?”

If all the precious metals and minerals he had ever owned merged together, its value will not be able to measure up on the fondest smile you wear when you see him. 

Warm like the first rays of the sun after a long winter.

“Well, it certainly did not stop me, didn’t it?” he remarked, all the words the deer hybrid said to him fading in the background and your voice is the only sound he can hear.

He watched you move around your desk, coming close to him to examine him and he chuckled softly when you had to stand by your tiptoes to do so.

“Are you wet? Do you want me to get a towel for you?”, you fretted about.

“You’re so considerate,” he replied, his hands reaching out and settling on your waist to steady you, “But I’m fine, little doe.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t have really come over. You might get sick,” you pointed out, looking up to him.

You’d be surprised how far his constitution goes as a dragon but then again, he does love being doted by you.

“I’ll be fine, sweetie.”

“You could always turn down Mr. Sylus. His gifts can always wait.”

“But bringing his gifts to you is the only task I do enjoy.”

“Are you sure you don’t need anything else, Skye?”, you asked while he brushes the threads hanging on your antlers. 

There are so many things he wants to ask from you. Those kisses you give freely to the twins and Mephisto, to hold you close and take in your comforting scent, and for you to finally call him by his real name but his requests, his pleas overflow, the words lost in his tongue and only then what matters is you, you, you.

Just you.

“Just keep doing your own thing, hm?”, Sylus replied, tapping your nose playfully.

“How about you help me and Daisy then?”, you asked, and you were so quick on pulling a chair for him, setting it beside where you usually sit on your sewing table, “If you don’t mind being my second assistant for today?”

His eyes fleeted on Mephisto which is busy shifting through the pile of fabrics you have laid out on the table. His mechanical crow really does enjoy spending time with you from the looks of it and he caught the absence of that familiar white ribbon you tried around its neck. 

Had his companion managed to lose its valuable treasure already? That seemed unlikely. He had seen Mephisto snap at another crow once who tried to pull it off its neck.

“Just tell me what to do, darling deer.”

“Daisy and I are making another good luck ribbon,” you said, sitting on your chair and you patted on the chair beside you, an indication for him to do the same which he gladly did. 

Oh, is that how that little item is called? No wonder Mephisto is very attached to it.

“A good luck ribbon?”

“Yes, to keep Daisy safe.”

“Well, isn’t Daisy a lucky bird to have you, miss seamstress.”

“I’ll make one for you as well, Skye”, you smiled, and the idea of having Mr. Sylus’ bodyguard wearing a ribbon in one of his horns sounds quite appealing to you. He would very much resemble the dragon figurine inside the music box you have beside you and he will be more approachable, you are sure.

“Are you saying I need good luck, sweetheart?”, he replied but he was already shifting through the fabrics laid out in front of him together with Mephisto and he already had a color in mind.

Afterall, he had always loved the color of your eyes. Warm, welcoming, and eager. He certainly wouldn’t mind a ribbon of that hue tied around one of his horns.

Your ears drooped slightly on his response, “You don’t want one?”

Oh, he doesn’t need luck. 

Not when he already has you near him but how could he resist that cute pout on your face? This little tactic of yours, even if you are not aware of it, always works so well that he always finds himself abiding to whatever you would say.

“Don’t give me that look, Miss Deer,” he gently chided you and tapped your nose, “Of course I want one.”

Your tail wagged just slightly upon hearing his reply. It always gives you a sense of purpose when people say they like to receive gifts from you and since you are now making him one, maybe you should sew one for Mr. Sylus as well, a little token of gratitude for all the gifts.

“Do you think Mr. Sylus would want one as well?”

“I am sure he will appreciate it.”

“What color do you think he would want?”

“Red,” Sylus replied, an idea already forming in his head after you are done with this project while he fiddled at the edge of the fabric that shares the color of your eyes, “Definitely red, sweetie.”

Daisy hopped near you, dragging its chosen fabric by its beak and Sylus shifted closer to you, your shoulders touching and ready to take any instructions you would give him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of the sewing part.”

“Just say the word, miss seamstress.”

Certainly not a bad way to spend a rainy afternoon with you.

────────────────────

Sylus had always detested the horns sitting on top of his head.

Monster.

Among the thousand curses and more he has been called, the word had always carried a certain weight every time humans and hybrids alike had laid eyes upon him. 

His kind is a rarity these days, a dying breed after being hunted and culled like livestocks when the humans had deemed they are a threat.

How many times had he sawed them off? He only lost that habit when he realized that they always grow back, more pointed than ever and-

-If he can’t convince his hunters he meant no harm, then it is time to prove their fears right.

The blood drips from the blade, into his face, and then into the white tiles of the bathroom. In this world overflowing with laughter mocking him from being the last of his kind, he had decided to level the playing field and carve a utopia for himself that slowly grew, a twisted safe haven initially meant for fiends such as him.

Then, on this land of despair, a small patch of paradise had taken root. Clearly impossible but certainly, without a doubt, a miracle.

Sylus then realized having horns isn’t too bad. A grotesque reflection of your elegant antlers, a bad imitation, but one of the similarities you both share.

“I am glad you love it, Daisy,” you clapped your hands, watching your odd little bird hopped about and turn for you and Skye, showing off the little ribbon you have sewn together.

His mechanical crow is more than pleased and Sylus is already sure it is about to show it off to the twins for receiving a new gift from you. 

It has become a little competition between those three and they don’t need to know that their boss is more than aware their contest involves who gets the most kisses and pats from you.

And here he is, sitting at the bottom of the list with the lowest score even if he isn’t technically part of that game.

“Do you want me to put on yours as well, Skye?”, you asked him.

“Just try not to tie it too tight, darling deer,” he said and he bent his head slightly, enough for you to reach his horn.

There was a shiver that ran on his spine when your fingers grazed his horn while you carefully fastened the ribbon around it and he let out a small whimper. 

It was a gesture of trust but you wouldn’t know that, not when it was common for you deer hybrids to touch each other’s antlers.

But it was more than a gesture of trust.

Afterall, Sylus is more than aware that his kind only allows closed family to touch their horns and-

-Their mate.

He almost sounded pathetic in his own ears and for once, he is afraid to see the look of pity on your eyes. Here is your liar, Miss Deer, he wants to tell you but he wouldn’t deny there is a hint of fear that eventually you will realize ‘Skye’ and ‘Mr. Sylus’ are one and the same. 

Would your fond gaze turn to fear by then?

“Oh, did I put it on too tight?”, you asked when your ears picked up the sound he made.

It was not pity that he saw but a flicker of concern if you have hurt him and oh, his sweetheart, always so caring. What did he do to deserve your kindness?

Too tight? Hardly. Your touch was so gentle, so unfamiliar yet he yearned for more.

“No sweetheart, you haven’t,” he replied and then you let out a small laugh when he pinched your cheek.

“I am glad,” you nodded and you studied the bow closely placed at the base of his horn. You should put more ribbons on him because it certainly made him look less threatening. 

Maybe then, your clients wouldn’t have a heart attack if you and him had to go again to do a delivery run soon. 

“It really looks good on you, Skye. People would believe you are a nice and friendly dragon now.”

“Perhaps I should wear ribbons more often then,” he joked but your ears seemed to perk up at his comment, and he caught the anticipation in your eyes at the prospect of making him more bows.

You nodded, and he froze slightly when you rub your antlers against his horn where the ribbon is tied in approval, “That sounds great. I can’t wait to see you in them.”

How many years has it that Sylus had long for such affection? To be treated gently and not as a lesser animal? Now, all of those wishes, his yearning for love that he thought he will never have, were slowly fulfilled unknowingly by you and he closed his eyes, rubbing his horns back to you.

“And I can’t wait to try out more ribbons for you, sweetie.”

“I hope Mr. Sylus will like what I made as much as you do, Skye.”

He may have stayed longer than usual today, especially when you ask him to only leave when the rain stopped. The sound of the downpour, the soft conversation between the two of you, and the sewing machine humming filled the room and even when evening fell, he watched you still push through, making your patterns, until you accidentally dozed off mid-conversation.

Little deer always forgets she is in the company of a beast.

He gently tucked your hair behind your ear, his hand lightly grazing the fur from the base until the tip, fleeting, not enough for you to even stir and the red gemstone that adorn your hairpin twinkled for a moment, like a wink.

Sylus left Mephisto with you, who almost looked like a plushie with you curled up against his companion and he set the gift he had brought for you near your hand holding the pencil.

Perhaps this is the start of another small game. A back and forth. A gift from him in exchange for a little trinket from you this time but Sylus will have to see.

He tied the red ribbon you said to give to ‘Mr. Sylus’ upon his return around the leather strap of his watch before he left your studio.

A small smile formed in Sylus’ lips when he took one glimpse of you before leaving.

If you opened your eyes, you will see that your Mr. Sylus is already more than pleased.

────────────────────

It was such a relief to see the boss returned to the base all too pleased with himself.

Luke and Kieran never found out what actually ticked him off last time he had visited you and their little investigation never arrived on a conclusion because you just looked at them confused when they tried to ask you if you and the boss had a little misunderstanding.

“Do you think he got upset because I asked for a piece of his lemon tart?”

They decided not to press on further, not wanting to upset you (Also because you offered to share the box of macarons they stole given to them begrudgingly by that cute, feisty sheep hybrid.)

They welcomed him in the base as routine but mostly because they are excited to see their father boss once again and he is usually more forgiving with their little antics every time he sees you, their tails wagging in excitement.

(Not that they blew up something again. They have been good while he is away for once. This whole sewing hobby is really taking up their free time.)

Yet, when Sylus went past the double doors of the base, they caught a scent quite strong that clung on him.

The scent of cotton and wildflowers.

Luke and Kieran looked at each other, a flicker of understanding. Is that why the boss is happier today?

“Boss, why do you smell like Miss Deer-”, Luke was about to ask but let out a yelp when Kieran stepped on his toes yet even then, the question had already made its way into his ears.

“What are you two on about?”, he asked, a small smirk tugging on his lips. He knows these two wolf cubs had a superior sense of smell, an already inherent trait for wolf hybrids amplified by whatever the humans did to them before arriving here in the N109 zone.

That little gesture of yours where you rubbed your antlers against his horns is supposed to be an affectionate one, fairly common among deer hybrids who are known for being very friendly to those they like.

He is still wearing the little ribbons you made for him which he had not removed until now but he is more than aware you have unknowingly left your scent on him.

Not that he minds, anyways, especially when he had also left his on yours as well.

He had to give these two points for asking him bluntly unlike your father who had given him an odd look when he exited your shop but he is sure you will be able to clear everything up. 

You are not one for lying after all.

But these wolf cubs have no sense of subtlety. So nosy.

“Did you and Miss Deer had-”, Luke let out another yelp when Kieran stepped on his toes again, “Can you stop that, Kieran?”

“I am not giving you allowance for you both to sniff on my clothes,” Sylus said dryly.

The two looked at each other, their tails wagging harder. They wouldn’t dare do that knowing full enough the boss retaliates during their sparring sessions and it wasn’t their fault when their noses can smell up to miles.

“Come on, boss,” Kieran said, the two walking with him deeper into the base, “We aren’t animals.”

“Actually, it is pretty much stronger around your horns,” Luke piped and his eyes widened slightly, noticing the ribbon fastened on the base of his horn and another one in his watch.

The twins looked at each other, their eyes studying the neck scarves you have gifted them.

The boss had finally received a gift from you just like they did.

“You both are acting like animals.”

But the little scratch he gave them on the back of their pointed ears betrayed his words.

.

.

.

Little gremlins.

────────────────────

Author's Note: Yes, I borrowed Louis from Beastars. He is absolutely necessary in the world building of this story even if he will appear here just ONCE. What did Louis left at Miss Deer's table? What is Sylus' gift? These will all be revealed in due time.

Will there be a side story with the twins? Maybe, maybe. We will see how the stars will align in the coming months.

Anyways, this is so fun to write. I try to write in between my free time and sometimes I just woke up at 2am because the ideas JUST HAD TO COME AT THAT TIME.

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

[bring-forth-his-sac]

THE MAN FOR THE JOB - PART 2

Link to Part 1! (part 1 is all step up, this is the smutty part lmao)

Summary:  Negan continues his mind games as he reminds you who’s in control. But when Negan actually starts to see you, you open up in ways you never anticipated (aka this is smut lmao)

Tags: daddy kink, coercion/manipulation, alcohol consumption, p in v penetration, vaginal fingering, loss of virginity, bare minimum aftercare, Negan’s an asshole who only wants one thing

Word Count: 8k

He watches you clutch the drink. Negan made sure not to fill it up too high, mainly because he doesn’t want to be wasting liquor on a gal who hasn’t let him pet her pussy yet. But also because he wants to gauge your sober reaction first.

Then later on, if you start playing by the rules, you can have a proper drink.

But for now Negan needs to focus on figuring out how to go about this. He’s had enough wives to know most fall into two categories. Either they want to give into hedonism, only needing a push to revel in living it large as a wife. Or, if they remain stubborn, Negan has to up the guilts to remind them of the severity of not just their situation, but of their loved ones too.

Watching you sit on the sleek couch across from him, Negan scoots forward. This is his opportunity to figure out which category you fit into and he’s not going to waste it.

“Y’know, this can be mutually beneficial,” Negan pitches “I mean, most gals your age got libidos ragin' like forest fires! Might do you some good to get out those pent up feelings”.

You stay quiet, trying not to nibble on your lip. The last thing you want is for Negan to know you’re nervous. You shake your head “No”.

“No, you don’t get a raging lady boner on the daily or no, you don’t want to fuck?”.

You hate how he talks. So casual and aloof despite everything. “I don’t want to do any of that stuff,” you clarify a little too quickly. 

Negan raises an eyebrow, taking in your choice of words. “None of that stuff, huh?” He repeats thoughtfully. With a long sigh, he leans back and takes a gulp of his drink. “Just thought I’d give you the option… must’ve been hard to get some dick action when you were travelling with your dad”.

You don’t reply. 

It’s not that you don’t mind talking about sex. You’ve never skydived either but you can hold a conversation about it. The problem is talking about it with him. If he gets any suspicions that you’re a virgin, Negan will have a field day. 

“I mean, it must’ve been hard. You got all these hormones and shit just buildin' up inside ya, some willing guys no doubt but ya also got Daddy watching over you and probably making sure nobody touches his little princess” he continues, talking without a care in the world.

You hold back a scoff. As if your father, who so easily gave you to the Saviors, would care if you had sex. Things could have been much worse for you. Your father didn’t know what kind of men Negan and his Saviors were. The only reason things have worked out so well for you is… well, is thanks to Negan.

Negan keeps digging, trying to find something that’ll give him some sort of a reaction. “So, did you have boy problems or just never find the right dick?” He prods.

You don’t know what annoys you more. The constant questions or the slow realization that Negan has done more to keep you safe than your own father. 

“That’s none of your business” you retort, wanting this conversation over. 

Negan is quick to snap back, his tone fringing on being sharp “Everything is my business”. 

You huff, not bothering to hide your frustration. That only makes Negan grin. “Oh yeah, this is what I like to see” he nods his head approvingly, much to your confusion. 

Negan revels in your baffled expression before clarifying “I’m starting to see little glimmers of that potty mouth gal who read her father to shit in front of everybody”.

Your father has always said you have a way with words. Always have been able to put your foot in your mouth and talk when it’s best to keep silent. Maybe that’s why you’re finally heeding his various warnings now and trying to stay quiet.

You shrug.

“When I saw her, that lady that was cursing out her father and trying to kick and slap my men silly,” he shifts in his couch, manspreading like there’s no tomorrow “Woo! Now that lady made my balls throb! I don’t think my pants tightened that much in years— and that’s saying something when I got a handful of wives!”.

Negan stands, downing the rest of his drink in one. You tense as he sets his glass on the table and moves around to sit beside you. 

One of Negan’s arms rest along the back of the couch. You ignore it and sip your drink. Negan watches with a chuckle, his tongue wetting his bottom lip. You’re a tough one, that’s for sure. But that just makes the chase even better.

When he realizes you won’t speak again. Negan tries a new approach. “So, if you don’t want to do any stuff with me, how’s about you tell me about the stuff you’ve done with other people” he smiles, as if requesting his favorite bedtime story.

“No”.

He laughs almost goofily, not taking your answer seriously “Oh c’mon, you into anal? Like being the one in control? Into feet or whatever weird shit people were into before the world got fucked?”. Negan throws as much as he can at you, already knowing he’s successfully flustered you after mentioning anal.

“Jesus! I don’t want to talk about those things, alright?” you get defensive, making no subtle movements as you scooch away from Negan on the couch “Just because you’re a fucking jackass doesn’t mean you have to be a huge pervert too”.

You can see the change in his face this time, predicting the mood swing and the loss of the fun persona. “Stuff? Things? You sound like a fourteen year old that’s too embarrassed to say ‘dick’ in front of her parents” he butts in, criticizing you.

“Is anything ever good enough for you?” You bite back “Is this why you have six wives but still prefer a bat?”.

Bringing Lucille up between you both, he grips her tightly. She wavers in front of your face for a moment but you make sure not to flinch. “I said I liked that you didn’t take shit, that doesn’t mean you get to talk like that to me” he warns.

You want to slap Lucille away from you. You want to pour the rest of the whiskey over his head and throw the empty glass at him afterwards.

But you don’t. You can’t. Instead, all you do is settle back and shut your mouth. 

“Darlin’ I’m trying to be civil here and give you the opportunity to confide in me,” he lets out a snicker as he looks around and drops Lucille back down by his legs “I mean, ain’t this a safe space?”. 

You don’t entertain his question by looking around and inadvertently giving yourself the reminder that you’re trapped in here with him, unable to leave until he allows you to. Negan leans back, lazy and disinterested, like a petulant child bored with a toy. 

His voice drops, casual, like he’s just making small talk "So how about it, huh? Why not open up that cold little heart of yours and tell me... you a virgin or what?"

The words land heavy, landing with a bite that makes your stomach churn. He says it like it’s nothing, but to you, it feels like a punch to the gut. "Not really something I care to share," you reply, eyes narrowing just enough to show you're not afraid.

Negan's laughter slices through the tension, loud and unapologetic. “Really?" he grins, leaning in just a little too close. "I mean, It's obvious, sweetheart. I could tell the second I laid eyes on you”.

He gives you a once-over, as though he's stripping you bare. "The way you hold yourself, all stiff and closed off… yeah, you don't need to say a word. It’s written all over you”.

Your face flushes, a hot rush of embarrassment crawling up your neck. You try to centre yourself, but his words linger in the air, cutting deeper than they should. You hoped you could keep that part of you hidden but now it feels like he's pulled it into the light for everyone to see, and suddenly, it’s all you can think about. 

You swallow hard “You don’t know anything about me”.

But even as you say it, doubt creeps in. Maybe he does. 

Letting Lucille slip out of his grasp, she rests on the floor, her handle leaning against the couch. Negan spreads his thighs, manspreading once again. “C’mere,” he orders. 

Despite every cell in your body protesting, you scoot closer. 

Negan scoffs, rolling his eyes as he pats his thigh “No, come here”. He can see your body instantly react. You go back into yourself, your body stiffening. 

There’s a few beats of silence and he knows you're internally debating it but it’s taking longer than he wants. With a sigh, Negan adds “Or I can come to you… not sure if that’d be better though; with me on you”.

That’s enough to convince you to comply. Standing, you put your glass on the small table before flattening out your dress. You don’t want to flash him or have your dress ride up, accidentally offering up more skin for him to ogle at.

With a gulp, you slowly lower yourself down on to him. Thankfully, you don’t feel anything. No boner or gun in the waistband of his jeans. You hold on to the end of your dress as you sink down, awkwardly straddling him. 

Negan’s fingers lightly skim your hips, waiting to see if you’ll flinch before finally settling his hands on either side of you. He smiles up at you, flashing you an almost boyish grin. It’s weird being this close to him, looking down at him and seeing every gray facial hair, every line on his face and faded scar. You try not to let your gaze linger but where else are you supposed to look?

“See, this ain’t so bad, is it?” he asks, giving your hips a testing squeeze.

“Can I get off now?” you don’t get the full question out before he gives you a disapproving grunt. Negan doesn’t hold on to you tighter, forcing you to stay where you are. He simply gives you a look and as it would have it, that seems to be enough for you to stay.

Negan lets the look fade before changing conversation, happy for now with simply having you on his lap. “Has your dad always been a dick to you?” he changes topics, making your stomach sink. You preferred his flirting to discussing your father, and more specifically, to confirm that yes, he’s always been an asshole.

“I guess,” you reply vaguely.

He hums, taking in your answer. “I’m sorry about that,” his words take a few seconds to sink in “you don’t deserve shit like that… even if you run your mouth every now and again”.

You try not to show a reaction. 

There’s a tension in your chest that you ache to ignore. You don’t deserve it. A simple statement, really. One you know yourself, deep deep down. It hits more than you expected, even as you try to hold everything back. You shouldn’t feel comforted by that. You shouldn’t let his words even touch the raw edges of your heart. 

You’ve spent so long distancing yourself from the idea of ever needing validation from anyone, least of all someone like him. But God, the fact that someone finally sees it? It's a blow to the walls you’ve built, and you’re not sure if that’s a relief or a pain you never asked for.

You try to keep your face neutral. It’s instinct to swallow down the sudden rush of emotion, to remind yourself how much you don’t want to lean into Negan’s words. You look away quickly, hoping he can’t read what you’re trying to bury.

Negan watches you closely, as if he can see that small crack in your armor. You’re good at hiding it, sure, but Negan has a knack for seeing what others miss. 

He leans back against the couch, deciding to take on this new approach. Maybe he had it wrong before. You don’t fit into the same old categories of wanting to embrace hedonism or need some guilty encouragement like the wives before you. No, instead Negan thinks you just need to be seen.

“I know you’ve just been surviving for a long ass time now, darlin’ and hell, if you want to keep doing that, then that’s fine with me,” just when Negan is starting to draw you out, he backs off. 

You feel his grip on your hips go slack, his hands falling to the couch cushions. You would never admit it out loud but you miss the warmth almost instantly. Just when you think he’s seen a flicker of who you are, he loses interest.

Negan's sudden withdrawal leaves a palpable void between you, the space where his warmth and attention once resided now chilling in his absence. His casual dismissal, as if your presence is inconsequential, strikes a blow to your self-worth. You stay on his lap for a moment, grappling with the sting of his indifference. Is it bad that it hurts this much?

Rationally, you should feel liberated by his dismissal, perhaps even eager to leave. Yet a part of you remains tethered, unwilling to let go. Moving slowly, you don’t pull away. You don’t know what it is that makes you do it, but you go forward, resting your forehead against his shoulder. 

Negan doesn't move. He doesn’t tense nor does he soften against you. He doesn’t even speak (a rare occurrence, truly) and lets the silence stretch, thick and suffocating, while your forehead rests against his shoulder like some pathetic white flag.

Just when you think you’ll have to admit defeat and awkwardly clamber off of him, a low and smug voice reaches your ear.

“You learnin’ how to be sweet, baby?”.

You can’t tell whether he’s being mocking or not. You should move but your limbs won’t listen. Negan’s hand moves slowly to your back, not to comfort but to remind you that he’s still the one holding the reins. Fingers drag deliberately, almost thoughtfully, up your spine. 

“You behaving now cause you don’t want me to get bored of ya?” he guesses “Or do you just want a strong voice tellin’ ya you’re worth a damn? Daddy not do that enough, sweetheart?”.

Your breath catches. He chuckles, pleased with himself.

“That’s what I thought,” Negan drawls. Slowly, you pull back to see his face again. He’s got you roped in and there’s nothing you can do. 

Every word that leaves his mouth drips with arrogance, laced with that mocking affection he wields like a blade and still, you hang on them. You convince yourself that there’s a warmth in his gaze, a weight that's surprisingly not as uncomfortable as when he used to watch you in the wives parlour. 

"Don't get me wrong," Negan continues, his voice dropping low, like he’s telling you a secret, "I could go on about how much of a piece of work your old man is, and shit, that’s only after seeing the grimy fuck for a little while… but I think we both know that's not what you need right now, huh?".

Negan’s got you pegged. It’s as if you’re already laid bare for him to see. It’s like he crawled into your psyche and made himself comfortable, propped his boots up on the furniture and lit a damn cigarette. No one's ever looked at you like that, past the fire and the walls and the venom to see the soft, shivering thing you swore to hide. 

But he has. He sees it and he’s circling it like a vulture. And no matter how much you tell yourself you hate him or that you’d kill him the first chance you get, you’re letting him do this. No, not just letting. You're leaning into it. Folding into his touch like it's inevitable. Like it's easier to give in than pretend he hasn’t already sunk his claws in.

“And hey, I know I don’t exactly have the cleanest record when it comes to making people feel all warm and fuzzy inside,” he says, flashing you a grin that’s got all the cockiness you expect “But I’m good at one thing. I’m good at knowing when someone’s got potential. And damn, I just think you and me got the potential to make this shitshow a little more fun”

Your pride is screaming. Your sense of self-preservation is banging on the walls, demanding you to snap out of it—but it’s like background noise now. Distant. Dull. Because here and now, with that smug glint in his eyes, you feel something you’ve never had long enough to trust.

“Look,” Negan continues his pitch  “I get it. You don’t trust me. I wouldn’t trust me either, not after everything”. His eyes watch you closely, as if he’s waiting for some micro expression to give away your feelings “But trust me on this. Sometimes, the world’s a lot more bearable when you’ve got someone there to screw your brains out and I think– no, I know that I’m the man for the job”.

Flicking your attention down to his jacket, you carefully trace a finger along it. Negan lets you, feeling how close you are to cracking. 

“That’s a stupid reason for thinking I’m a virgin” you go back to his previous comments, ignoring his monologue.

Negan doesn’t deny it. “Stupid but true”.

You don’t know how to do this. And to do this in front of Negan feels like you’re trying to make a creme brulee in front of a chef. This isn’t your forte. You don’t take the lead. Not in your old group. Not when dealing with your father or even with Negan… up until now, that is.

In a way, you don’t see this as Negan getting what he wants. This is getting the upper hand and finally making him be the one on the back foot. 

Bringing your head down, you shut your eyes and blindly shove your lips onto his. You don’t do it to be sweet or romantic or enact your alleged wifely duties. You do it to prove and point. And Negan can feel it.

He almost sputters out a laugh and it would’ve come out if your lips were swallowing up every attempted noise his mouth makes. You feel his hands grip your hips again, sliding up to your waist but this is different than before. He gives you a small tug, not to pull you flush against him like you expected, but away.

“Easy tiger,” Negan says once he can catch a breath, letting his head fall back on the couch to assure there’s space between your faces.

Your heart sinks momentarily, a rush of panic and rejection flooding your senses. You try to conceal the disappointment that threatens to show but you can't help the quick jerk of your head towards the floor, avoiding his gaze.

A part of you feels stupid, while another part of you is silently relieved. Negan is who you assumed him to be. An asshole! Who you can’t win with whether you do as he wants or the exact opposite.

As you begin to shift awkwardly on his lap, attempting to create some distance between you, his grip tightens, holding you in place. Negan notices the hurt in your eyes, the subtle withdrawal that follows his previous words. "Hey," he murmurs, his voice soft and reassuring as his hand runs up your back in a gentle caress "I didn't mean it like that."

Fuck.

Despite yourself, you listen. “I think maybe I should take the lead on this one, hm?” he talks so softly, you almost forget about his cruelty “I mean, maybe if we were practising the silent treatment then you could lead, seeing you’re a professional in that”. 

Negan tries to get you to crack a smile. You don’t. But you don’t get off his lap either and so he sees it as a win nonetheless.

“So how’s about you let me take care of you instead of you doing… whatever it is you call that” You don’t miss the diss at your own kissing style. Yet before you can argue back or rebuff him, Negan leans in and closes the gap between you both.

His lips meet yours with a fierce hunger, one less sloppy than yours. Negan’s hands urge you closer again as his tongue forces your lips apart, delving in to claim your mouth entirely.

You wonder if this is how he kisses all of his wives. If he can turn on this passion like a light switch and make each one of them feel like they’re the special one. Your thoughts evaporate when you feel his finger. How it got there so quickly without you noticing is beyond you— surely all this kissing isn’t distracting you, is it?

It’s just a slight nudge, maybe done with his knuckle. You’re unsure considering you can’t exactly see, your short dress obstructing your view. All you can see is Negan’s arm, running alongside your thigh until it disappears under your dress. 

When he nudges again, as if to feel you through your panties, you jerk your head back. Negan is quick to reassure you, moving his hand to your thigh and gripping it firmly. “It’s alright, it’s alright,” he tells you “I said I’d take care of you, didn’t I?”.

He waits for you to answer. You nod but Negan lets out a heavy exhale. “I want words,” he clarifies “I think we’re over the silent shit now, sweetheart”.

Automatically, your head nods again but you stutter out “Y-yeah, I know you said that but—“.

“So let me take care of you,” Negan cuts you off, giving your thigh a squeeze “this is all part of it, honey and if you want to just do this today then hell, that’s fine with me. We can just focus on you”.

You don’t believe him. You don’t want to believe him and let down your guard even more than you already have. “I don’t know…” you reply hesitantly.

Negan lets out a small laugh, trying to ease you as his calloused fingers inch closer to your panty line. “Well you don’t have to look so scared, I’m not gonna stick my whole fuckin’ fist up there” he jokes, planting a small kiss by your jaw. 

It feels like your mind is tearing into two. You hate it but it feels nice. His hands, his lips, the warmth in his voice. But dammit, is this what the other wives thought? Did they give in this quickly too?

As if hearing your internal monologue, Negan says “I won’t do anything you don’t want, baby, I just wanna show you a good time”. 

You believe him. You believe the man that took you from your only living relative and has kept you like a pampered prisoner. It doesn’t make sense in your head and yet the words slip out. “Ok… yeah” you agree reluctantly.

The boyish smile you get in return feels like a reward. 

“Just a peek” he promises, tentatively pulling the fabric aside and sliding his middle finger between your lower lips. You had thought he would have given you more of a warning before sliding a finger between your folds and yet this is exactly the sort of thing you assumed Negan would do.

Your body tenses immediately, your nose taking in a sharp suck of air. Negan can feel your thighs go rigid but he doesn’t comment on it. How can he when he’s distracted by how goddamn wet you are? His finger glides with ease, testing the very wet waters. 

You try to maintain your composure, steeling yourself against the overwhelming sensation. You don't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm before he's even got a finger in you. Negan watches your determined expression, a smirk tugging at his lips as he slowly moves his finger around, gathering your wetness.

"Such a pretty little pussy..." He compliments and with no warning, begins to circle your clit. You jump from the sudden contact, leaving out a gasp as you grip his shoulder. “Shit, Negan,” you hiss with gritted teeth “You couldn’t give me a heads up?”.

He scoffs as his finger runs back through your folds. “Fine then,” he mockingly entertains your request “incoming!”.

“Wha—“ your mouth snaps shut as Negan plunges not just one, but two fingers inside of you. Your eyes snap shut for a moment, wanting no more than to focus on the digits working their way into you. 

“Goddamn it’s a tight fit for my fuckin’ fingers!” He says it like he’s amused. He slowly pushes his fingers deeper into your tight hole, moving them in and out at a slow pace.

"Poor baby, had to wait for the world to end to get laid," he teases softly, his fingers spreading you wider, preparing you for something much thicker than his digits.

You blink your heavy eyelids open to find Negan's gaze locked onto yours, his expression unreadable. There’s no smug smirk or no mocking glint in his eye. He looks... focused, almost genuine. His fingers continue to stretch you open, preparing you with single-minded determination.

It makes you realize how much you like his eyes. Your hips shift forward on their own accord, seeking more contact. The last barrier of doubt melts away as you give in to the pleasure he's building.

"Let's see if we can make this tight pussy come," he whispers, the heel of his hand rubbing against your swollen bundle of nerves. His fingers hook upwards, hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars. The pleasure builds rapidly, overwhelming your senses.

You whimper his name uncontrollably as your pussy coats his fingers with your juices, the sensation unlike anything you've ever experienced. "You're starting to feel it, ain't ya?" he says gruffly, his fingers curl and press against your g-spot, making your legs tremble.

Your inner muscles clamp down tightly around his fingers as a sudden, intense wave hits you. You cry out, your body stiffening and convulsing. You grab onto him for dear life, your nails digging into his skin as your orgasm tears through you.

As the final tremors of your orgasm ebb away, Negan slows his fingers to a stop and removes them. Not that you mind as you collapse against him, still trembling as your pussy flutters weakly. He wraps a strong arm around your waist, holding you close. “There we go, baby” he coos.

You want to stay like this forever. The warmth of your orgasm wrapping around your brain like a warm blanket and subduing you. As you instinctively shift to make yourself more comfortable, your thigh accidentally grazes against the prominent bulge tenting Negan's pants. 

You freeze momentarily, realizing with sudden clarity what your climax has done to him. He inhales sharply at the contact, his grip tightening reflexively around your waist. 

“Oh, I didn’t mean…” you trail off, unsure whether you should apologize for causing such a reaction. Negan shifts slightly, his voice low and strained as he adjusts himself. 

"Fuck, it’s ok, baby" he mutters under his breath. He nudges you off of his lap, depositing you down onto the rest of the couch. You flop down with no protest. After an orgasm like that, you feel too dazed to be moving around much.

Negan stays seated. Not crawling all over you but not standing up and walking away either. He looks over at you with a sigh. “I said I’d keep my dick in my pants, didn’t I?” His tone is rough, almost pained.

Is it weird to feel bad? He’s given you so much and yet he’s already blocked himself off from getting anything in return. “Yeah… you kinda did…” you trail off, feeling oddly awkward about confirming that. 

“And I guess you don’t want to lose it all in one day, huh?” Negan continues, knowing he has to be strategic about this “I get it, losing the V card can be a big fuck ass deal… well, it’s a fuck-pussy deal actually but y’get me”.

He earns a small laugh from you in response and Negan knows he’s on to a winning formula.

"I-I don't know," you say hesitantly, looking up at the ceiling. "Dicks are big and I know it’ll hurt no matter what… I don’t know, it’s just a lot”. He can tell you're conflicted, torn between the fear of the unknown and the primal desire to be filled.

You bite your lip, bringing your gaze back to him. Unfortunately he looks good. "I've read about it… before. But I don't know what it would feel like. Does it really hurt?" you ask blatantly.

Negan tilts his head as he thinks. Despite what people may think, he is an honest man. To a fault most of the time. But he’d hate to scare you off now, especially when you’re so close to saying yes.

He shrugs "Ain't like I'll be pounding into you. I can be gentle when I want to be. I mean, shit, shouldn’t I get a little something too?”. 

You stew on his words. As the afterglow of your orgasm slowly fades, you can still feel the wetness clinging to your panties. It's a reminder of how desperately your body craves more, urging that rationale side of your brain to say “fuck it!” and just go for it.

"I guess... we could try," you murmur softly, your voice barely audible as you gather your courage. You peek up at Negan through your lashes, trusting his word despite your shyness. "But you have to be gentle, and you have to stop if I tell you to, okay?".

"Baby, you know I'm not gonna lie to you," he says, his voice low and persuasive "It might hurt a bit at first, when I first push in... but after that? Fuck, you'll see stars. You trust me?”.

“No” you reply honestly, the admission escaping your lips amidst a flurry of giggles that betray the nervous flutter in your stomach. 

Negan doesn’t frown at the admission. Instead he grins “Guess I’ll have to give ya a reason to trust me, huh?”. You don’t answer, unable to when he moves down to you and captures your mouth in a kiss.

Without wasting a second, Negan is already yanking his jeans down, freeing his rock-hard erection. Before you can even blink, he's pressing his body against yours, letting you feel every inch of him. 

You give him a bewildered look as he kisses along your jawline, his sudden movement stealing your breath away. You mentally scold yourself for already knowing this aspect of Negan-- warnings aren't in his vocabulary, especially when he wants something.

Trying to process what’s happening, you hear him muttering some praise as he goes for your panties again. You lift your hips naturally as he tugs them off of you. You can't help but wonder if this is right, but your body seems to have its own agenda. It knows exactly what it wants, even if your mind is still playing catch-up.

Before you know it, Negan looks down at your pussy and you realize he’s already lining himself up. “Wait!” You exclaim. You try to sit up but can’t with Negan’s frame above you.

“Can’t I see it first?” You ask, knowing he'll understand your vague question. 

He lets out a low, breathy chuckle, his eyes never leaving yours. "Darlin'," he drawls, "all you need to worry about is feeling it, not seeing it”.

“But is there anything I need to do? Will I take off my dress?” You question hurriedly. 

Negan runs his tongue over his teeth as he listens, narrowing his eyes slightly at your incessant questions. “Christ, woman,” he tries to stay patient “You just gotta lay there and take it, hun”.

As if to make sure you don’t start blabbering again, Negan leans down and takes your lips in a demanding kiss. His tongue pushes its way into your mouth, silencing your remaining questions. As he kisses you, you feel something large and warm pressing against your sensitive pussy lips. You gasp into his mouth, realizing it's his tip. 

Your hands find their home on his face, cupping his stubbled cheeks as you kiss him back frantically. Negan begins moving his hips slowly, spreading your wetness along his length. The smooth head of his cock slides between your lips, making you shiver against him. 

"Fuck, you're so goddamn wet," he groans against your mouth, his praise making you blush. He begins to push inside, his thickness stretching you open. "That's it, sweetheart. Take my dick like a good girl."

All you can feel is the ache as his tip stretches you. You’ve heard it all before; how it hurts before the pleasure kicks in. With a slight grunt, you try to relax but you don’t exactly know how you’re supposed to do that. How do you relax your pussy when all it feels is pain?

Negan slowly moves his hips forward, trying to push himself further into you and yet… nothing. His dick opts to pop back out than go any further in. “Huh… you’re a tight one,” he compliments but all you feel is embarrassment. 

You can feel your eyes start to water, although you’re unsure if that’s thanks to Negan’s relentless efforts to fit or the fact that you’d rather him be balls deep inside you already. Subtly nudging your legs out wider, Negan lines himself up and tries again. He knows he made you cum earlier so he assumed this next part would be easier. Yet here you are, tight as a virgin… heh, literally.

Negan watches your face, trying to gauge your reaction as he presses into you. “You alright?” He grunts, trying to slowly ween his way in. When you don’t respond after a few moments, Negan lets out a strained huff “This ain’t the time for you to go quiet again”.

“It just hurts!” You snap more than you anticipated. A part of you was scared Negan would take it personally and reprimand you for your tone but thankfully he doesn’t. 

With a big sigh, Negan pulls out completely. You let out a grunt at the feeling and his tip pops back out, leaving your pussy sore. He stands, cock glistening and determined despite a frustrated Negan running a hand through his hair.

“What kinda cruel fuckin’ game is this,” he blabs “I get to pop a fuckin’ cherry but it just happens to be the tightest goddamn cherry ever? Talk about a blessing and a curse!”.

You sit up, tugging your dress down to cover you. “Sorry,” you mutter, looking anywhere but Negan and his… ahem, package.

He shakes his head, hand dropping back down to his side. “No, don’t apologize,” he replies, watching how you hold yourself, slowly retreating back into your shell.

“We can leave it at that, if you want,” Negan tries to hide the defeat in his voice. Here you are, the best damn gift in the world and he can’t unwrap it! “Maybe if the boys find some lube on a run we could try again,” he tugs up his pants, haphazardly shoving his dick away just for it to tent in his pants.

You watch him carefully as he slumps down beside you. Maybe this is a sign from some greater power that you shouldn’t be doing this. Not with him, anyways. Not after all he’s done. And yet, every time you look at him, that line between right and wrong starts to blur. 

There’s a voice in your head, the sensible one, telling you this isn’t a good idea. You’re supposed to be smarter than this. You’re supposed to know better. That’s what kept you alive for so long and yet you open your mouth and say “Would it help if we tried a different position?”.

Negan’s eyes immediately lock onto you. There’s a flicker in his gaze, a mix of surprise and admiration. A chuckle escapes him, but it’s different this time. It’s not the playful, sardonic laugh he’s known for, but something more appreciative, like he’s impressed. "Well, shit," he mutters, his voice deep and almost reverent "Didn’t expect that".

He stands again, wasting no time in getting his member out again. “I was about to ask if you’ve ever tried doggy,” he scoffs out a laugh as he rubs himself “but we both know the answer to that”.

A spark of excitement runs through you and before the rational side of your brain can stop you, you get into position. Sitting up on the couch, you turn your back to Negan, perching yourself over the back of the couch with your knees on the couch cushions. Arching your back, you glance behind your shoulder and ask “Like this?”.

“Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes,” you hear his voice behind you, trying not to shiver as he lifts your dress up over your ass. The couch cushions dip as Negan rests a knee besides yours, lining himself back up. 

You wait with a still breath, anticipating the stretch again. But it doesn’t come. You can feel him behind you, his body close enough to touch and yet all you feel is the heat radiating off of him.

Your body sways back, trying to feel anything. That’s when his voice meets you, low and smooth, right behind your ear. “Eager?” Negan asks.

“I just wanna see if it’ll fit” you downplay your feelings, ignoring the fluttering in your stomach. To help sooth you, Negan places gentle kisses down the side of your neck as he presses his cock into your hole.  

With a deep breath, Negan pushes forward slowly, feeling your tightness resist him. “Fuck, you're tight” he grunts as he starts to push in deeper, getting the tip fully in. You try to embrace the pain, to let him go deeper but as he slowly plunges deeper into you, you swat your arm back. 

“No, wait, just wait a second,” you close your eyes, trying to stay composed.

Negan stops immediately, his thick cock halfway inside you. “Easy there, sweetheart,” He coos , rubbing your back gently “I know it hurts. Just breathe through it and relax your muscles for me”.

That’s easier said than done. “I don’t know how,” you say loudly, hoping that’ll mask your groans of pain “I don’t know how to relax”.

Negan keeps his voice calm and steady, trying to help you through the discomfort. “Shh, it's okay. First time's always rough” he leans down, using a hand to turn your head sideways so he can capture your lips in a kiss. 

You kiss him back to distract yourself, hungrily pressing your lips against his. Negan moves his hips slowly as you kiss him, slipping his tongue into your mouth. 

Your pussy stretches, heat flooding your system until you feel something coarse. Pubic Hair. Reluctantly, you pull your mouth away from Negan and you try to look back at what’s happening.

“There you go, baby, that’s it,” Negan encourages you, slowly becoming breathless as he restrains himself. “Goddamn! All the way in, didn’t think I’d fuckin fit” he pants, giving you side a small approving rub.

You physically relax at that, knowing that this is as far as he could go. Talking you through it, Negan starts with shallow thrusts. He only moves a mere inch or two, just enough to get a feel for you without causing you too much pain. 

His deep voice rumble near your ear “You're doin' great, baby”. He reaches around to circle your clit with his thumb. Your body jerks, a small whimper escaping your lips as unexpected pleasure shoots through you.

You moan again as he hits a sweet spot inside of you. Without thinking, you arch your back and push your hips back slightly to meet his shallow thrusts. Negan watches the movement, his eyes darkening. 

Holding your hips firmly, he begins to move faster, his shallow thrusts turning into deep, powerful strokes. He pulls back and slams into you, his cock filling you completely. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the air as he starts to properly fuck you.

A loud moan escapes your lips, your body jolting with the intensity of his movements. “N-Negan!” You gasp, your body jolting with the intensity of his movements.

"Fuck yeah," he pants behind you, one hand gripping your hip while the other tangles in your hair. Each thrust causes the couch to creak. "Jesus, your pussy's squeezin' me so good..." His voice becomes ragged as your inner walls clamp down around him.

You whimper and moan as Negan pounds into you, his earlier promises to be gentle long forgotten. The initial soreness has given way to a surprising pleasure as his thick length stretches you with each deep thrust. You understand now why people find this so good, why people can be so hedonistic when it comes to sex.

His hand in your hair gives a sharp tug, forcing your head up. "Ah—fuck," you gasp, words tumbling out in broken syllables. "That's it... fuck, if only Daddy could see you now..." Negan grunts.

You whimper, shutting your eyes. Everything feels as though it’s happening at once. It’s all too much yet not enough. "Who's your Daddy, baby?" Negan urges as he tugs on your hair, refusing to let up.

“You! Negan, Negan, Negan!” You spew out the words, your whole body feeling the force of his dick. You feel like you’d say anything, admit to anything if it meant he’d stay inside of you longer. 

Negan can feel it, that he truly owns you now as you repeat his name over and over again. You hold on to the couch as your body crashes again, another orgasm wrecking havoc over you. Somewhere along the line, you replace his name with one you’ve now awarded him. “Daddy!” You cry out again, your body still spasming.

Negan can feel his own body tense at your words, his grip tightening on your hips. "Shit," he hisses, trying to pull back. He manages to withdraw just in time, hot, sticky fluid shooting out and coating the back of your thigh. 

You stay where you are, your full weight on the back of the couch. Breathing heavily, Negan puts his hand on your back to steady himself. After a few seconds, he straightens up and steps back, admiring the mess he's made on your thighs. "Well, fuck me," he mutters, shaking his head slightly.

He pulled out so fast that you barely registered the loss of his length inside you, too busy dealing with your own high. Negan watches his cum slowly start to drip down your thigh. With a low hum of approval, he leans over and plants a kiss on your shoulder. “I’ll get a towel, don’t you move” he says, his voice drifting as he walks further away. 

And so, like the obedient wife you are, you wait. You blink slowly, your mind foggy from the post-sex haze, already imagining curling up in his strong arms. It’s an oddly comforting thought and something you wouldn’t mind coming into fruition.

Kneeling behind you, Negan gently wipes your thighs clean, occasionally pressing soft kisses to your skin while doing so. The contrast between his tender touch now and the ruthless dominant way he just fucked you has your heart fluttering. "Such a good girl," he mutters against your shoulder blades, placing a small kiss there.

You wait for more. Maybe he’ll scoop you up and bring you to his bed, or settle you on his lap again. Instead, you hear his footsteps walking away. You turn your head to watch him grab his empty whiskey glass from the table and head to his array of liquor. Negan pours himself another glass, not even looking back at you.

You pivot your body, settling back onto the couch cushions. Ignoring the dull ache in your stomach, you let your gaze wander around the room. Your eyebrows knit together when the realization kicks in.

“...Where did my underwear go?”.

Negan takes a quick sip of his drink, eyebrows raising as he scans the room. “Probably under the couch if they’re not on the couch” he offers up, not bothering to check himself.

With a slight huff, you slide off the couch and on to your hands and knees, looking underneath. Because this is a dignifying thing to do right after losing your virginity. Especially when you don’t even find it down there. 

You hum as you get back up and look around. “Fuck” you huff, making a mental note of Negan’s lack of help.

“Got plenty of shit like that back in the wives rooms,” Negan waves off your concern “y’can have your pick of panties”. Making his way back to the couch he just fucked you on, he sits nonchalantly.

It feels silly. You hate to admit something like this but considering he’s already been inside of you, the words come out. “I know but… they were mine. I mean, mine mine, the ones I was wearing when I got here first”.

His face practically lights up with amusement. “Oh, so the panties are a memento?” Negan chuckles “Guess there’s a first time for everything”.

You give him a deadpan expression and his face turns pitiful “If I find ‘em later, I’ll send them your way, alright?”. You’re reluctant to agree but there’s not much else you can do now. 

“Yeah, sure” you agree, knowing there’s not much else you can do.

He stands, kissing your head. It’s not the cuddling you expected after your first time but it seems to be all you’re going to get. “Why don’t you go get cleaned up? Have a shower back at the parlour” he feigns the suggestion. You know all too well that it’s an order.

“Right… yeah, I guess” you nod, knowing there’s nothing else to say. It stings to be cast to the side. Well, what hurts more is that you knew this would be the outcome yet you went with it anyways.You knew what Negan was like entering this room. You knew how this would end and yet you savour the kiss he gives you, wishing that maybe next time, you’ll get a bit more. 

It’s the scam all of the wives must fall for. 

You wander closer to the door, almost waiting for Negan to call out to you, to tell you to wait and come back to him. He doesn’t. With a small, almost silent sigh, you turn the door handle when you hear.

“Hey, sweet thing?”

“Yeah?” you sound so hopeful, you’d cringe if Negan wasn’t looking.

He vaguely points at you, that boyish grin that made you pussy wet coming back with vengeance as he gives you a wink. “You’ll be my Tuesday fuck from here on out, alright?”.

Your hope dwindles at his words, snuffing out any lingering warmth for the man. Oh. Just another fuck. His Tuesday release, to be more exact. You nod silently, retreating back into your shell as you quietly exit the room, leaving him to his whiskey and smug grin.

Negan waits a beat, ensuring the soft pad of your footsteps have faded. Only then does he lean over the couch, groping between the cushions until he finds your discarded panties. Right where he left them.

It may be your memento but it’s his trophy. Besides, needs something to show daddy… heh, your other daddy, that you’re fully cooperating with him. He needs to know his daughter is Negan’s now. Through and through. And this is the proof of that. Giving the panties a slight sniff, Negan grins.

Goddamn. He can't wait for Tuesday.

[stayevildarling]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader - Pink Skies

A/N: I'm not exactly sure how I got this idea but it has been on my mind for ages. I miss Natasha so much 🤍 Title is inspired by the song ,,Pink skies'' by Zach Bryan.

Prompt: Natasha and you have always had a special connection. One day a mission goes severely south and the two of you are separated but somehow still find each other's love and connection in the silence.

tags/warnings: mention of blood, mention of guns, mention of violence, mention of bomb, mention of snowstorm, mention of malnourishment, mention of suicidal thoughts, lots of angst/hurt, comfort at the end

word count: 7k

translation: detka=baby

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker , @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay , @whitelotus00 , @ninaahs , @paulsonsratched , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometime , @wastdstime , @p1pecleanerwitheyes , @queen2234 , @ihartnat , @lifebyinez , @stepintomyworld , @ahsatanizgay , @blu3dimples

As you stumble into the briefing room, feeling both tired from the last few missions lately and many nights preparing for this mission, in all sorts of ways, you instantly notice the tension in the room. There is a shift, the usual pre mission buzzing replaced by something quiet, something dark and you could swear that you could hear the other's thoughts and the concern about this mission. A dim light filters through the room and you take a seat at the table, the other Avengers filtering in one by one, their faces both serious and filled with something else that you can't quite read yet. The mission was clear and it had been for weeks since Tony had mentioned it for the first time.

An old HYDRA base in a remote location in the middle of the Siberian wilderness. It had been located buried under thick ice and snow for decades but recently discovered through one of Tony's channels. And it was believed to hold critical intel, weapons that could seriously harm the outside world if it got into the wrong hands. It had taken weeks of preparation, new gear, new costumes, hours and hours of meetings, filling out reports and gathering ideas. And as you glance at the team again, you notice how much it had tired them, no mission lately having been this big in preparation alone and you notice there that the ,,something else'' in their faces must be the fact that the mission itself would be even harder.

You sit at the table, your arms crossed, listening intently as Steve outlines the plans once more. Your eyes drift across the table, scanning the others, when they reach hers. They linger on Natasha for a moment longer, too long. She is focused, her eyes sharp and calculating but you notice the subtle tension in her jaw and you knew it meant she was worried. Natasha and you had been working side by side for years now ever since Yelena dragged you out of the Red Room and into the Avengers compound, knowing your talents are too great to be wasted by a normal life. They had taken you in, Natasha under her wing and it didn't take long before you joined missions and the compound became your home, the team your family.

She gives you a small nod as she notices your lingering eyes, pulling you out of your thoughts, a silent reassurance that everything would be okay. Her expression softens for a moment before she focuses on the briefing again. And despite you needing to do the same really, your eyes linger for a moment longer, the familiarity in her green eyes, the sense of home. Now, Natasha had been your home for years, pretty closed off when she first met you but quickly noticing how alike you are, how you share the same pain, the same scars from your past. She took you under her wing, teaching you how to become an Avenger by training with you and how to become part of the Team by taking you to Pizza and Game nights and keeping you company for Tony's ridiculous parties. And the two of you had grown closer, from weekly training sessions to weekly movie nights and the two of you bickering which action film to watch. From only one of you joining the team on missions, to you both being essential for the team in different ways. From shy glances with tight jaws to lingering glances in the meeting room, fingers interloping on a dark night or shoulders touching while sitting and watching the sunset on the rooftop.

,,and that's when you come in'' Steve explains, bringing you back into reality and stopping your daydreaming about a certain redhead. ,,We need to move fast, in and out before anyone knows we are there. Y/N you will be leading the infiltration team. Natasha you will provide overwatch. The rest of us will secure the perimeter and handle extraction'' he explains, glancing around the table.

You nod, absorbing the same details you had been listening to carefully for the past few months. There isn't much time to think about anything other than the mission, but as the team begins to get ready, you feel Natasha's presence beside you. As your eyes meet hers, you take in her uniform again, her long red hair and the braids and the familiar safe green eyes locking with your own, almost completing each other.

,,Be careful out there'' she says quietly, her voice low enough that only you can hear her. Her Russian accent slips slightly and you know her well enough by now to know, there is something unsaid in her voice and behind her green orbs. ,,You too'' you reply with a smile, your tone matching her softness. ,,I'll see you when this is over'' you announce. She looks at you with something intense in her gaze, as if she wants to say more but then she just nods and you both turn to go your separate ways and into this mission.

The Quinjet hums lowly through the sky a little while later, your team already on the way, the other teams on your intercoms. You are nervous, beyond nervous as this really wasn't one of your usual missions. So far you had been fighting off the bad guys, mostly missions that would take at most a few days, some undercover ones taking longer but this was something else. With Tony's technology it doesn't take nearly as long as it should and after dozing off for a little while, you hear some ruffling and the announcement over intercoms that you are fast approaching.

Now neither of you had expected the storm and weather to hit as hard as it did. Of course, Tony had brought on some scientist and weather experts to prepare you for the conditions, making sure your gear and costumes as well as boots are made for this. Each of you had a tracker that was nearly indestructible as well as a backpack with essentials if the weather would hit as expected. But the storm was much faster and harder than anyone could have anticipated. What was supposed to be a quick in and out operation, turns into chaos within minutes. The blizzard almost swallows everything, including nearly the Quinjet and before you know it your communication lines are down and your team is getting separated.

You push forward, despite the low visibility and the freezing cold on your skin, determined to complete this mission. You almost reach the target location, despite not having a map or a way to communicate, remembering the maps from all the meetings and the large bridge you are currently trying to cross when an explosion suddenly rocks the ground beneath your feet. A landmine must have been hidden underneath the snow, the blast sending you tumbling down a ravine. The fall feels endless and the only thing you can see as you drop is darkness and snow before you fall to the floor, the snow at the bottom of wherever you are shielding you from any serious back injuries.

For a moment you simply lay there in the darkness, struggling to comprehend what just happened as the pain ripples through your body, your ears buzzing and your vision blurring from the impact. Your breathing comes in ragged gasps as you try and assess the situation, having been in predicaments plenty of times as an Avenger and long before in the Red Room. Your leg is bleeding, a deep gash from the fall that the snow hadn't prevented. A part of you knows how hopeless this truly is, your comms are shattered as well as both of your trackers and your phone certainly would have broken in the backpack.

After a moment you practically jump up, shaking some of the snow off, for now ignoring the pain in your body as you try and reach for your phone but just as you expected it shattered from either the blast or fall. You sigh as you reach for one of your torches, and you find yourself inside a tunnel, the drop too far to attempt to climb back up and so you begin walking, having tended to the wound with one of the first aid kits in your backpack for now. After hours and hours of walking, you realise it's the tunnel connected to the HYDRA base but you couldn't access it as you had none of the equipment to get inside the huge metal door. You practically slide down the door, the only light source your torch as you sit there, hoping the team that was supposed to infiltrate this part and get inside to eventually show up and take you with them.

But as the hours pass, eventually two days of staying in the same location, you know it's hopeless and that no one will show up. You decide to leave a note, having brought a notebook and pen on your mission for whatever reason you can't really remember now, telling them that you are alive and would try to find your way back to them, leaving it by the large metal door. The way out of the tunnel is harder than anything you had ever done before, endless walking, endless different ways to turn, getting lost, eventually feeling like you would never get out of there but finally after more hours of walking, you manage to make it to the end, breaking a metal bar before you slip past it and finally seeing the sky again. However, to your disappointment you are in the middle of nowhere, no way of knowing where the team had begun this mission, where you had landed initially.

All you can see is endless white, some trees and mountains to either side but no sign of any civilisation let alone any Avengers anywhere. And that's the first time you break down, knowing how truly screwed you are and that the likelihood of finding you was incredibly low at this point. The cold seems to seep into your skin and bones as you begin walking towards the trees and into the mountains, knowing you couldn't stay in the endless white forever and knowing your best chance at survival would be to do this the old fashioned way. As soon as you reach the forests, still covered in snow but much less cold and wet, you collapse onto the floor, taking the backpack off yet again and laying out your only belonging for the foreseeable future.

Inside you find, the torch and multiple batteries, your first aid kit, the notebook and pen, some water inside a large bottle, multiple protein bars and electrolyte packets as well as a foldable emergency blanket, a knife and obviously your weapons. A part of you is glad Tony decided to go this overboard as many of the Avengers had protested on carrying all of this equipment, claiming they don't need it, but you couldn't be more grateful to the old man right now insisting on you all carrying it, knowing you needed this more than ever if you want to survive. You try and remember the maps and what they said about the nearest city incase of an emergency landing on the way there or back but you remember them saying it was miles away, hence the multiple teams and Quinjets especially equipped for this type of mission.

Natasha lingers on your mind, the way her hair looked so beautiful the last time you saw her, the smile on her face and the worry. You wonder what she is thinking, if she is looking for you, if they are even back yet and know this mission failed. You know she must have watched the fall with her team and you pray that they don't assume you are dead and would look for you because you know this was nearly impossible. With the rest of the day, you decide to use one of your old Red Room methods to tell the time, using your instincts and mostly the sky to guide you, knowing if you lost track of time eventually this would catch up with you and be a great danger. And so you scramble for any dry wood that you can find, using your skills to make a fire in order to finally warm up and find some shelter, knowing the chance of wild animals was low with this weather but knowing it wasn't impossible. With the knife in your hands, you close your eyes but sleep remains a stranger at first and so you simply stare at the sky, turning different shades as the night carries on and somehow your thoughts only linger on Natasha and wanting to get back to her.

The next day, you decide to carry on walking, trying to find water and moving on. You aren't sure what is driving you forward, whether it was your will to survive, wanting to get back home to your family and team, knowing your chances of surviving this are pretty low. But you carry on, through the mountains, through the forests filled with snow, the snowstorms following you wherever you go as you keep your feet moving, despite every single bone in your body hurting and every single thought in your head telling you to just lean against one of the trees and await your faith. For the days to follow you keep pushing, especially through the night, knowing it was much safer for you to find sleep and rest during the day. And you had managed well, surviving of water and the occasional fish you managed to find on your way through the mountains and the occasional frozen pond or lake that you managed to break through with your knifes, knowing you needed the stuff in your backpack for tougher times to come.

Eventually after days of walking, trying to push the pain and the cold aside, you find shelter in a small cave, hidden from the wind and storms. It wasn't much but enough to get you rested, knowing you needed a good nights sleep to restore your energy. You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to converse heat and look out at the storm outside. The sky had turned a deep pink as the sun dipped below the horizon, and for a moment, the cold stops as you think about Natasha again, wondering if she was maybe looking at the same sky, thinking about you. A part of you wishes you would have told her, told her how your heart beats for her, how you only managed to heal the scars of your past with her by your side, how she made every ugly thought about yourself beautiful, how she healed the most broken parts of your soul and how she had lifted you up from the most darkest of times. You wish you would have told her about how much your hands and knees shake whenever you are near her, at the beginning certainly from nerves but eventually from butterflies as they would erupt in your stomach whenever you are near her.

Neither you or Natasha had been the cheesy type, the ones with big love confessions or maybe even the type for a relationship, knowing you had both dedicated your life to a greater goal. But as the sky turns dark and the cold returns, you wish you would have told her, knowing it would have never changed your fate but you wish she would have known, known that there was someone out there who loves her deeply, more than the air in their lungs, more than the blood in their body keeping their heart pumping. You would give your life for Natasha at any given moment and you hate yourself for the possibility of her never knowing how you feel, never knowing whether she may feel the same, whether the glances truly meant something, the shoulders brushing against each other, the pinky promises or the smile she had reserved for you. Despite the heartache, the thoughts of Natasha bring you comfort and you eventually manage to find sleep again, your body finally getting the rest you needed.

The next morning, the storm had mostly eased and as you walk out of the cave, backpack on your back, you know this is your chance to finally get some miles in, knowing if you walk through the large fields of nothing, skipping the mountains and hills that you may actually be able to get anywhere, knowing the possibility of getting caught in the storm was there but with no way of contacting anyone and slowly loosing your sense of time, you push forward, the thought of Natasha still lingering on your mind.

Meanwhile, Natasha storms into her room, banging the door shut on her way in. Another day of trying to find you, another day of returning to the scene where everything went wrong. Another day of searching for clues, any sign of you being alive. It had been weeks since the mission went south, weeks since you had been gone. She had replayed the moment in her mind a thousand times, watching you fall, searching for something she missed, any clue that could lead her back to you. But the snow and ice of Siberia had swallowed you and they never even managed to find the entrance to the HYDRA base where you had left your note, leaving nothing behind but silence.

She stares out the window at the compound grounds, her hands clenched into fists. The others had tried to convince her to stop this, especially Clint, knowing how much this was draining her and urging her to take a break. Telling her over and over again to let the search teams handle it but she couldn't, not with the thought of you out there, alone as it kept her awake at night. Natasha hadn't cried once since the day you vanished. She couldn't afford to, not when every ounce of her energy had to go into finding you and getting you back. But the weight of it all, the feeling like it was her fault, how she should have been with you, told you the words that lingered on her mind before you two said goodbye, suffocated her. She hadn't told anyone how much it hurt, how much she was blaming herself, how she could still hear your voice, feel your touches and how much she missed them, usually you being the one the redhead would confide in.

Natasha blinks away some tears as she looks over a small crumpled piece of paper, a note that you scribbled down during a debrief months ago, a joke about how ,,we always make it back''. It was stupid really, a throwaway comment but she holds onto it like a lifeline, hoping your words are true, hoping one day she was going to train with you again, make silly pinky promises to you and laugh with you until her belly would hurt. The ink had long faded where she had unfolded and refolded it a hundred times but the words still linger, as she traces them with her fingertips, each night before attempting to get some sleep but failing most of the nights.

,,Y/N'' she whispers as she continues staring out the window ,,Where are you?''. She doesn't expect an answer. She had been asking the same question for weeks and the silence was always the same. But in her heart she knows she will find you one day. You are out there and she knows it. She just has to keep looking.

The remainder of the day she spends looking over mission reports, watching the footage they had over and over despite the low visibility due to the storm but she couldn't stop, not yet. ,,Tasha, you gotta stop'' Clint says as he watches her in the common room, working effortlessly without taking any breaks. ,,I won't stop'' she mutters, shooting him a glance and he lets it go, knowing how much this means to her. The Black Widow carries on, spending every single day in finding you, talking to the team who got separated from you, working with Tony and the others. The lonely evenings, she would spend on the rooftop, your usual spot, watching the pink skies and thinking of you, praying for your safety.

--

The weeks had slowly turned into months and you are at the end of your strength. Every step feels like it could be your last, another snowstorm after another, your body numb to the cold at this point. Despite finding the occasional shelter here and there, often finding water due to the unlimited snow and the occasional scrap of something your body was giving up. You had no strength to keep going, to fight through mountains of snow and the occasional wild animal. You are tired and the last cave you hadn't left in days, your supply of food from the backpack long gone, as well as anything really, the batteries having run out, the pages from your notebook filled with your writing and sketches and so the only thing you had was your water bottle and yourself, the thoughts of giving up and that no one would ever find you.

The nights were the hardest, when the temperature dropped and the darkness would close in around you. But even in your exhaustion, you managed to keep your ritual, looking at the pink skies and thinking of Natasha. It had become your safety, a reminder that Natasha was waiting. Even if you didn't know for sure she was, it was the only lingering hope that you could cling on. Now, you had been so exhausted that you never noticed the snow beginning to thin lately, patches of bare earth visible between the drifts, a sign that you may finally be close to reaching the edge of wilderness. Despite your stomach hurting from starvation, your mouth dry from the lack of water, every single bone in your body hurting from the cold and the walking. But the real battle was your mind, the lingering thoughts of whether you should give up, knowing how pointless this truly was and that despite it all, they never found you, knowing how highly trained and equipped the avengers are and you couldn't shake the thought that they had abandoned you, never found you.

You knew how to make this painless, a quick sudden death within an instant, barely any pain, having learned this in your past also. And you considered it tonight, whether to finally give up and to let go. Using the back of the notebook to write a final note incase anyone would ever stumble upon this cave, despite the unlikelihood of that scenario. Tonight had tested you in ways you hadn't been tested before, not in the years of the Red Room, the killing and the abuse you had endured for years. Interrogations when your cover was blown when they beat you over and over, breaking your fingers or leaving many emotional scars. All your head keeps telling you is that you couldn't make it home, that there was no one waiting at home, how they had given up on you. Your family had given up on you. You take a shaky breath after finishing your writing, before laying down, using the backpack as a pillow, the knife in your palm before looking up.

And until now you hadn't seen it, the small hole above you, enough to give you a glimpse of the sky and to your surprise it was pink again. Now the sky hadn't been pink in a while, causing your usual bright thoughts of Natasha to vanish, replaced by darker ones, hopeless ones. But right now she's back, causing you to drop the knife as you close your eyes and think of her. You can see her in your mind, her red hair flowing freely, her smile, that specific one she had reserved for you, the smirk when you would make fun of one of the guys after a mission or a debriefing. Her usual tough hands, often rolled into fists whenever she would take someone out or was hitting the punching bag in the gym hard, this time holding your own in your daydreams, much softer and less rough. You can almost feel her and maybe it's the fact you hadn't really had a lot of water in the past few days or the lack of food but right now she is here in the cave with you, smiling at you as she lays beside you, using her soft hands to move some strands of hair from your features and wipe your tears.

Eventually the exhaustion creeps in, the knife remaining beside you, Natasha having replaced the dark thoughts as sleep washes over you. And you would never know but Natasha was staring at the same sky, once again sitting on your spot on the rooftop, hoping you are out there, hoping she was going to get to see you again. The Black Widow had struggled lately, losing her balance a little bit as she would fight Tony almost every day, blaming him for this mission, blaming Steve for the way he planned the mission, blaming your team for letting you go down the bridge alone but mostly blaming herself. She had went back to the mission site multiple times, trying to find anything but the HYDRA base was buried under the snow now, the storms that had passed burying the entrance and your note from the beginning. She hates herself for letting you go alone, for watching from above rather than being beside you. She should have pushed harder not to have you in the dangers of this mission and most of all she regrets never having told you. Told you that you are the one she can relate to due to your shared past, how she suffered the same nightmares, the same trauma and thoughts. How you are her safe haven, how she trusts you and knows you have her back.

How Natasha had been in love with you from the first moment she saw you walk inside the compound with Yelena. How she pushed the thoughts away for months until she couldn't keep her distance. How she accepted being friends as she assumed it was best but how it had killed her every second of every day and especially now. She wishes she never wasted any of it. She wishes she would have held you when watching movies together, she wishes she would have kissed you as you sat beside each other on the rooftop and most of all she wishes she would have told you before you left on this mission. How she has no idea whether you love her, the others, especially Yelena having of course mentioned it and teased the redhead about it but how she needed you to know, even if you didn't love her back.

The next morning as you wake up, your breath instantly hitches, remembering the night before and how close you had been to giving up. You pack your bags before stepping out of the cave and as soon as you do, you notice it immediately. The change of scenery, how the snow was slightly lighter, some green sticking out from underneath and then you see it, far in the distance, having to squint your eyes in order to make sure it's real. Movement in the distance. Tears pour down your cheeks as you begin running, knowing you needed to save your strength but not caring. Any possibility of movement was good and you needed to get there, knowing with how low you are running on everything, this was maybe your last chance. It takes you all day, the sky filled with darkness and stars but eventually you find the lights, a small town approaching and again you begin running after seeing the first sign of civilisation in months. You basically collapse into the village before a family approaches you, the woman instantly offering you water and food.

They offered you a phone and shelter but you didn't want to risk a single thing, knowing how these remote areas could be filled with soldiers and you aren't educated enough on what kind and so you decide to let the man drive you into the nearest city the next day. That night as you lay awake in the small barn they offered you for shelter, you look at the sky, it too late to be pink but you think of Natasha and seeing her again, this time falling asleep with a smile on your face.

The journey home had taken you longer than you could have imagined, they drove you to the nearest city before you had to take a boat in order to get to the nearest airport. Now, being an Avenger came with it's perks, not needing a passport handy necessarily and being able to use secure connections. You remembered an old friend living a couple of countries away and so you gave him a call and he agreed to send one of his jets to fly you back home. And after some more hours of endless travelling, this time with enough food, water and warmth, you finally make it home. You know you should call, let them know but a part of you simply wants to get back, fall into Natasha's arms and finally tell her about all the things you had experienced on this journey and how you only managed to come home due to her and the pink skies.

It seems like almost nothing has changed when you walk into the compound, the facial recognition still having your data saved. With ease, you walk past the empty common room, the empty gym and the briefing room, trying to find a sign of someone. Now due to your exhaustion you hadn't realised it was the middle of the night and when that thought registers you sigh, wondering where she may be. ,,JARVIS?'' you call out quietly as you make it into an elevator ,,Yes Ms Y/N?'' he asks and you ask him the question that lingers on your mind. ,,Miss Romanoff is currently on the rooftop'' he explains and your eyebrows furrow for a moment before you make your way up there, wondering what she is doing up there. It only takes a few more stairs before you find the open door and the angel you had been thinking about sitting at the edge, staring into the distance, her hair falling freely, just the way you had remembered it.

,,Natasha?'' you call out but she remains quiet and at first she ignores it as your voice had lingered on her mind for so long, often tricking her as you would appear beside her while training or with the others but she had to learn it wasn't you and simply her thoughts and aching heart. ,,Tasha?'' you try again and this time her head instantly snaps, noticing how it sounded too real to be her imagination. Her face turns from serious to shocked in an instant and she jumps to her feet quickly before she stands there, staring at you in disbelief, the same clothes from that day, despite them being ripped, the same backpack, your same beautiful face despite the bruises and cuts. The same beautiful you, despite how you look thinner, tired and pale.

,,Y/N?'' it's barely above a whisper, her voice breaking as she takes some steps towards you. You notice her hesitation and how she seems scared that this isn't real, that if she touched you you may disappear again. ,,Are you really here?'' she whispers and you look up at her, the exhaustion stretched into every line of your face, but your eyes are the same, the same sparkle. ,,Natasha'' you repeat, unable to form any words at this point.

The moment stretches for a while but before you know it, she runs up to you and you find yourself in her arms as she squeezes you tight and you remain like that as you finally collapse into her arms, having made it home. You cling to her, scared if you let go you may find this a dream and that you are still in one of those caves, that you would wake up and find the endless whites again. Sobs wreck through your body, despite you not wanting her to see any of this but you couldn't hold back.

,,I thought.. I thought we lost you'' she whispers into your hair, her voice shaking with the weight of everything unsaid. ,,I thought I'd never see you again'' she admits, her own tears lingering in her green eyes.

,,What happened?'' she asks as she pulls back, wiping your tears with her thumb. ,,A landmine I think'' you try and collect yourself again before she tilts her head as she listens to you intently. ,,Where have you been?'' she asks confused before you fill her in, on the endless white, the storms, the caves, the town after months, and using one of your contacts to get back. Her jaw drops as your words register before her eyebrows furrow. ,,You just got back?'' she asks a bit dumbfounded before you nod. ,,So you haven't seen anyone? no one knows? we need to get you to med bay'' she urges and you simply nod, too tired to argue with her and knowing you really should have done those things before.

Natasha reaches for your hand as she walks you into the elevator and into med bay, finding one of the night doctors and leaving you in their hands for a moment before waking the others. By the time they return you are in one of the beds, on fluids and pain medication as they had treated you to your injuries. Tony, Natasha, Steve, Bucky and the others stand around your bed, seeing you soundly asleep from both the exhaustion and medication as they stare at each other in disbelief. ,,She made it back'' Steve shakes his head in surprise, not able to imagine what you must have been through these past few months.

,,How is she Doc?'' Tony asks as he looks at you in concern. ,,There are signs of severe malnourishment, dehydration and a leg injury'' he begins speaking. ,,We have given her fluids, pain medications and something to get her to rest'' he explains and Natasha anxiously begins biting her lip at hearing his words. ,,She should make a full recovery but needs rest for now'' he acknowledges and the others sigh in relief. They stay with you for hours before they leave it to Natasha, knowing she was the one truly wanting to be by your side. The doctor had given her your backpack and she found the notebook inside, unsure what to do with it just yet.

She knows the first thing they would do in the morning is need to follow up on this mission and she assumes being able to find some intel and despite the doubts, Natasha begins reading. She finds your pages about how the mission had gone south, how you had walked through the roughest blizzards, how you hadn't eaten in days, before she reads her name for the first time. She reads all the pages until her eyes burn, the confessions how you had found another pink sky and how it reminded her of you and by the last page she is in tears. Seeing how you are so close to giving up and the little line you had written for her in case she ever finds you. Her head falls into her hands as she begins sobbing, tears of relief and sadness rolling down her cheeks as she couldn't be happier to have you back but couldn't be more heartbroken for what you had endured, sincerly hoping it would have been her instead.

The redhead reads over your lines over and over again, unable to believe what you had endured and knowing the strength it truly took to walk through the hell that you had walked through. She reads over the lines of the pink sky and how it reminded you of her and her heart aches and beats faster at the same time, knowing she had been the reason you carried on and found your way home. Natasha had never known what it truly felt like to be loved wholeheartedly but reading every single one of your thoughts, the raw truth behind them makes her emotional in a way that she had never been before. The redhead remains by your side, not thinking about leaving for a second, not caring remotely about the meetings, the mission or any of it, all she wants is to be near you.

It takes a good day until you are out of it, the meds wearing off slowly and she remains right there, holding your hand when you wake up shaking and gasping for breath as the nightmares of the cold wreck through your body. She gently shushes you back to sleep as she lays beside you, figuring the blankets aren't warm enough and wanting to keep you close, still worried if she so much as blinked you may disappear again. By the time you finally wake up fully, you blink a few times, the reality of having found your way home settling in fully. Natasha lays beside you as you are wrapped in her arms, smiling softly at you as your eyes meet her green ones.

,,Hey there'' she softly whispers, her eyes filled with relief and something you can't quite read. ,,How you feeling?'' she asks and you nod in contempt, not fully ready yet to talk as the moment is too precious. The two of you stay like this for a while, soaking in each other's warms before the sunrise greets you and warms your cheek. ,,You hungry?'' Natasha asks, figuring you would want a whole buffet at this point. ,,Yeah'' you whisper softly and she offers a hand to you before guiding you outside of med bay, having cleared it with the doctors as you didn't need any further treatment for now.

,,Where are we going?'' you ask a little confused, figuring she may just take you into the common room and the kitchen. ,,Let's get you cleaned up hm?'' she suggests and you nod as you realise you are outside of your room, almost having forgotten the way there. As soon as you step inside you notice how it had been kept clean, but not by any staff. There is something more personal about it, the windows open for fresh air, the vase that you would always fill with your favourite flowers filled with some fresh ones and as you glance at Natasha standing behind you, you quickly connect the dots. ,,How about you get a shower and I'll make you some food'' she suggests and you nod, before disappearing into the bathroom for a while.

You had briefly showered when making it back to civilisation but nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of a shower in your own bathroom, the warmth healing your skin and a fresh set of your own clothes. When you return a while later, Natasha is sitting by the small kitchen island, some coffee, orange juice and breakfast waiting for you and you smile, wishing this was your reality, wishing this could be the scene in front of you every morning. The two of you sit in silence as you begin eating, enjoying each other's company but the air is thick with unspoken truths and things on each other's mind.

,,You know..'' she begins as she glances at the cup of coffee in her hands. ,,You really could have called'' she sighs but a smile plastered on her face. ,,I know I should have, I'm sorry'' you apologise, seeing the concern written across her features. Silence fills the room again and before either of you can speak, you are interrupted by a knock on your door, Bucky requesting you both in the meeting room. The two of you sigh, having enjoyed the moment up until now before joining the others. The reunion is filled with emotions as you reunite with some of the others and Natasha watches silently from the other end of the room, having dreamed about these moments for so long.

,,You were right to never give up'' Clint whispers as he lingers beside her. She glances at him, giving him a brief smile before he begins speaking again. ,,Finally gonna tell her?'' he asks but before she can reply, Tony requests everyone by the large meeting table, ready to talk the details through and just exactly how this mission went south. You tell them about it all, the entrance to the HYDRA base you had found but that you expect it to be covered by the blizzard now and unable to get to, you tell them about the landmine and what had happened, talking through every single detail of your reality from the past few months. Steve and Tony are quick to plan some further steps, deciding whether to abandon the mission or try to find the base one more time and you find yourself stealing away, not wanting any part of this mission anymore and the memories haunting your mind.

Natasha watches you leave, figuring you need some quiet, wanting to give you the space instead of hovering by your side all day but when you fail to show up for dinner, she tries finding you and succeeds immediately as she finds you on the all too familiar rooftop, watching over the sky. ,,Hi there'' she greets you softly as she takes a seat beside you. ,,Hi'' you whisper, too caught up in the moment to find any more words. The two of you remain silent and there is something bittersweet about this moment, watching the pink sky together, this time side by side rather than from afar. ,,Y/N'' Natasha begins and you find your eyes meeting her own, locking almost instantly. ,,I-'' she begins but pauses, unsure how to say everything that is lingering on her mind. ,,I need to tell you something'' you interrupt her, the past few months having given you a new courage that you never seemed to have found before.

,,Every day while I was out there.. I..'' you begin but pause yourself, finding it hard to repeat the painful truth. ,,I know detka'' she interrupts you, causing your breath to hitch. ,,I have read them'' she admits, avoiding your gaze. ,,I don't know if you feel the same and I would never want to ruin what we have but I want you to know that I came home because of you'' you admit and this time her gaze snaps right back to you, unable to believe the words coming out of your mouth and that there is still a doubt within you that this wasn't mutual. ,,And if- this is silly then..'' you begin rambling, feeling unsure by her silence but before you can say another single word her lips suddenly crash onto your own, taking you by surprise, your eyes widening at first before they close, fully embracing the kiss, feeling every single emotion, every single flashback. ,,I love you detka'' she whispers after the two of you pull away and your eyes remain on her, before they find the pink sky again, your shoulders now leaning against each other before your head rests on hers. ,,I love you Nat'' you whisper.

[famousstatesmanbearroad]

DISTRACTION PART 2 (WWE CODY RHODES)

•Summary: He’s allowed you in his head, allowed you to play mind games, allowed you to make him vulnerable, causing his match against your cousin at WrestleMania 39. Months later and he finally earns another match, just for you to start the distraction all over again, dwelling on the pass

• Parings: Cody Rhodes X Samoan fem reader

Warnings - mentions of sex, praise kink, choking kink, moaning kink, fingering, grinding of some sorts (over the clothes), Dirty Talk, 18+ only (Minors DNI), (READ AT YOUR OWN RISK)

Word count: 5k

The day before the WrestleMania kickoff show was declared a pre-kickoff for everyone in WWE as Paul Levesque and Stephanie McMahon hosted their first annual pre-kickoff dinner party to celebrate the road to WrestleMania. You sat in your hotel room, applying the pieces of jewelry that you placed out to put on.

Roman asked you to accompany him to this dinner party. Though you were surprised, he even asked you. After last week with your interaction with Cody, Roman made it clear how pissed he was with you.

Cody, that man has not left your mind. You haven't seen him since, other than watching him on TV when he appeared on Monday's show.

You would be crazy if some of you thought about seeing him, but you did. You had no idea why, however.

There wasn't any point in being near the man; he wasn't completing this WrestleMania with Roman anymore. You won't have to worry about being a distraction.

But you couldn't help but think about the past. You wished you could forget what happened between the two of you.

But the way he touched you, the way you moaned for him, the way he made you feel, how could you not forget that!?

You've had sex before, but never in the way you did with Cody. You held in for so long just to focus on your plan, give in, and throw yourself at him the minute he became vulnerable. You, too, were vulnerable.

And you couldn't help but bite your lip as you thought about that night. The way he talked to you, it made you realize how much of a praise kink you have, how much you get turned on by how dirty he can speak to you, all while fucking you.

"We're on a tight schedule. Are you almost ready?" Roman asked as he exited your hotel bathroom, adjusting his tie.

You cleared your throat, looking down as you hid the flustered from your face. "Yeah, I'm ready."

You took tiny breaths before sitting up, turning to Roman as he grabbed his keys before looking at you. "How do I look?" Roman asked, adjusting his top suit. You nodded in approval. "Like you just got inducted into the hall of fame."

Roman smirks, nodding at your comment. He then got serious. "Listen, a lot of our family will be there, some we haven't spoken to in a while, that we haven't been on good terms with."

You knew who Roman was talking about, Jey. The last time you saw Jey in person was when he and Cody were undisputed tag champs. You didn't even see him at the Royal Rumble. But you miss Jey. He was someone who allowed you to express your feelings whenever you were upset. And despite how malicious Jimmy acted towards him, they were twins; they missed each other.

"Just say Jey's name, Roman; you're talking about him."

Roman sighed. "Look, I can't stop you from talking to him; that's your brother, " he said. But promise me he's not going to get into your head."

You scoffed. "How would Jey get in my head?" You asked him. Roman was quiet for a moment.

Roman knew that Jey was the number one person who stood with you when you left Bloodline. Jey thinks you deserve better than doing what Roman tells you to do. The last thing he needs is someone convincing you to do such a thing. Because despite the plans he makes, you plot, despite him telling you what to do, you're his family. He's been betrayed by his family before. He doesn't want to happen, let alone from you.

"Just remember what I said," he said. It was now your turn to remain quiet as he turned to your side, pulling his arm out for you to wrap around. You took it in silence as you walked out of your room.

-

The dinner party was elegant. Silent music played in the background as chatters filled the room. The moment you and Roman walked into the room, you were greeted by many people—a hall of framers and workers who worked alongside Paul in the headquarters. Whenever Roman enters a room, heads turn, and people from every corner greet people. All you can do is say hi and smile as people approach him.

However, you notice his smile, which he had as people greeted him, disappear as he stared into the distance. You looked in the direction he was staring at, and all two of you saw two figures, one you hoped you wouldn't see, although you knew you would.

Jey. He stood from afar with a drink in his hand, laughing at whatever joke he had told himself. His eyes drifted into your and Roman's direction, matching the same faded-off smile as Roman's. Although he was looking at you and you only. All Jey wanted, although his big brother, was his little sister. You looked beautiful, he thought. All he wanted was to talk to you, ask how things were, and tell you he's still your brother.

Then they were Cody, who you sucked the air out of the minute his eyes laid on you. You looked absolutely stunning, he thought. Your dress fits perfectly on your body. It made him frustrated with how beautiful you look. A part of him wanted to come up to you and tell you how beautiful you looked. The other part wanted to take you to one of the bathrooms and undress you out of that incredibly sexy dress.

Roman eyes narrowed at the two men. He feared Jey's words, but he also feared Cody's actions. He had no clue what was going on between you and Cody; after seeing how close he was to you a couple of days ago, it absolutely made Roman boil. Yes, Roman's is your cousin. But the two of you were more siblings than cousins. And seeing a man that he truly despises be incredibly close to you was something he never wanted to happen again. And he knew a part of it was his fault.

Roman was the one who told you to distract Cody and do whatever it takes. Now he questions what exactly happened to you. It was like he accidentally set you up as bait.

You let out a shaky sigh as you looked at Roman. "I'm going to go grab me a drink, " you said as you walked off, not allowing Roman to speak.

You knew that tonight was going to be a long night. And you knew that avoiding Cody as much as possible would probably help. But it is impossible, especially when you are in the same room.

You finally grabbed a drink, sipped it, and breathed to calm down. You looked back to see Roman conversing with Dwayne and other people you did not know their names.

From a distance, Jey was debating whether he should approach you. He wasn't sure if you would want to talk to him. But he gained the strength anyway, looking over at Cody, who watched you. "Aye uce, let me go to my sis real quick."

Cody looked at him. A hint of surprise formed in his face, but he nodded anyway. He wasn't sure how your conversation with Jey would turn out.

Jey hesitated for a moment, then walked towards you. Your back was turned as you were unaware of Jey's presence getting closer. That wasn't until you heard his voice.

"Y/N."

You turned around, seeing your brother in front of you. You glanced over at Roman, who hadn't seen you two. You then looked back at him.

You wanted nothing more than to hug your Jey and tell him how much you missed him, but you kept your distance, giving him a small smile. "Hi."

Jey smiled back. "How have you been, little sis?" he asked. He was glad you were talking to him.

"I've been better, big bro." You replied as your smile grew. "I miss you."

Hearing you say that made Jey happy. He would be lying if a small part of him thought you hated him for leaving the bloodline. If only he knew that was far from the truth. Deep down, you admire him for doing that.

"I miss you too." He said. Your eyes showed a hint of happiness hearing that from him. Your eyes then drifted to the tie that lay on his chest, causing you to suck your teeth as you placed your drink down. "I see things haven't changed." You say fixing his tie correctly. Jey couldn't help but laugh. "I've been trying to fix it; you know I hate ties."

"Well, you could have worn a bow." You tell him. Jey shakes his head. "I look ridiculous in those."

"No, you do not, Jey," you said, remaining silent momentarily. "Okay, maybe a little."

"Wow!" Jey was taken aback as he looked down at you. You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, which caused him to laugh back.

However, your eyes wander towards Roman, whose eyes are now on you two, causing you to stop laughing. Jey realizes this, looking over at Roman before looking at you. "He's controlling you, Y/N."

"Jey-"

"Y/N, he uses you. The only reason he still has you around is because you've helped keep that championship belt he got." Jey tells her. You shook your head. "That's not true." You tell him and yourself.

Jey frowns as you deny his words. You now knew what Roman meant by Jey getting in your head. Deep down, you question whether Jey was right.

However, you still deny it. "Look, I've been there for Roman through everything. He's family. And Families don't betray each other."

Jey scrunch his eyebrows together as you said that. "What's that supposed to mean?" You looked at him as you realized what you had said, seeing the effect that it had on him. "Jey- it's not like that,"

"Nah, I get it," Jey spoke, shaking his head. "I betrayed Roman. I turned my back on my own family; I decided to be selfish. It's not like Roman selfishly treated all of us like crap whenever our job isn't done."

"Jey-"

"He would have done the same if he knew about you and Cody,"

You immediately froze as you looked at your brother. Jey still had no clue what had happened between the two of you, but he knew something had happened; otherwise, Cody's reactions to what he had seen wouldn't have been how they had been.

"I don't know what you're talking about," You choked out as you looked away from Jey.

"Yes, I do," Jey said. "I don't know what it is, nor is it none of my business, but Roman is gonna find out what it is, and he's gonna be furious."

"There's nothing going on between Cody and me, okay?" You snapped at your brother out of frustration. "For once, can't you understand that Roman isn't doing any using and isn't controlling me!?"

Jey noticed your body language and tone of voice; it was your reaction to him mentioning Cody. And as much as you really wanted to talk to your brother right now, you tried to get away and calm down.

"Aye, sis? " a voice said, bringing your and Jey's attention to Jimmy, the eldest sibling.

Yours and Jimmy's relationship was different from yours and Jey's. You and Jimmy were close despite what happened with your other brothers. But you couldn't talk to him about how you were feeling occasionally. You couldn't even do that with Jey because of how distant you had gotten.

You didn't want to mean it, but you couldn't help but think that Jimmy had his head up Roman's ass so far that everything you did felt, and you did want to tell Jimmy, but you couldn't because of Roman.

"Everything's good?" Jimmy asked you as his eyes heavily narrowed at Jey. Jey and Jimmy made eye contact as Jimmy got closer to the two of you. More Jey than you.

You took a step back. "I'm fine," you said, feeling overwhelmed by what was happening. I'm going to go use the bathroom."

You didn't even give Jey a chance to react before you were off into the bathroom. He looked over in your direction, watching you walk as he sighed. All he wanted was a civil conversation with his sister.

And that couldn't happen.

-

The index finger of Cody's hand gently slipped across the rim of his glass cup as he stared down at his drink. He sat down by the bar by himself, examining his surroundings and the party that was currently going on.

A few people have approached him, making small talk, but most of the time, he was thinking.

He was thinking about a lot of things. His head was clouded. From his decision about WrestleMania to seeing you walking in, Cody knew that his time was limited from exploding.

He noticed the glances from Roman the moment he walked in. Though, Roman kept his distance. Cody wasn't stupid; he knew Roman was more cautious towards him after seeing how incredibly close he was with you. And as much as he needed to stay away from you, a part of him didn't mind pissing Roman off.

But it's you. It wasn't any random woman. He needed to stay far away from you for his sanity. You were all he could think about. It was affecting him badly.

Cody glances at you and Jey as you are in his head again. Fuck, you looked breathtaking in that dress. He knew you knew you looked good, but my god, Cody felt himself wanting to undress you with his own eyes.

He couldn't help but notice your expression—you looked overwhelmed. Your brothers were now standing in front of each other.

Cody knew everything that went down between Jimmy and Jey. The whole world knew what happened between the two. But Cody was the one who took Jey when Jey needed someone the most. And he knew you and Jey's relationship was a bit rocky, which allowed Cody to know precisely what you were feeling.

His eyes followed you as you walked into the bathroom, leaving the two brothers to themselves. His eyes stared at that door. He had a crazy debate about going into it, though it was a girl's bathroom, and he knew how stupid that would be for himself.

"Hey, Cody." Cody turned his head as he saw a figure standing in front of him, causing him to be taken aback a bit.

Dwayne was the last person Cody expected to approach him. His smile indicated that he meant no harm, allowing Cody to smile back.

"Hey, Dwayne," Cody said as Dwayne sat beside him. Dwayne grabbed the bartender's attention as he ordered a drink. Once receiving it, he looked back at Cody. "How you doing."

"Well," Cody said, forcing a small smile. "Just taking one step at a time." He said.

"Well, that's something," Dwayne said, chuckling a bit as he took a sip. Cody let one out, too, and he drank from his cup.

The conversation had already been 20 seconds, and it was already awkward. It wasn't like Cody hated Dwayne. Despite being related to someone he despised, Dwayne was one of his few role models.

But family is family. Deep down, Cody knew that Dwayne would rather defend his cousin than someone who looked up to him. That's how their whole family works.

"Listen, I just want to talk to you about WrestleMania," Dwayne started the conversation. Cody held his hand up. There's nothing really to talk about; I made my decision."

Dwayne nodded. However, the two of them knew that this was not true. Cody didn't want to talk about it, especially to the man who was facing Roman instead of him. "I just want to know if we're good," Dwayne said. "You hear the fans all over social media saying they want you, and I don't want anyone coming in the way and confusing your decision."

Cody took in what Dwayne said. Yes, in less than 24 hours, Cody has been trending all over social media. #wewantcody even took him by surprise. His entire career, he's been in the mid-card. He's never gotten this much notice.

But Dwayne's mention made Cody think a certain way. If Dwayne had only said so, his decision would have stayed the same.

"I made the decision; I can't go back on my word, can I?" Cody said, looking at Dwayne. Dwayne stared at Cody back before nodding, forming a smile on his face. "It wouldn't make sense if you did," Dwayne said. He then got up from his seat. "I'm glad you and I are on the same page."

Cody nodded, taking a sip from his drink. "Yeah, me too."

Dwayne patted Cody on the shoulder as it looked like he was going to walk off and finally end this dreadful conversation. But suddenly, Dwayne stopped and turned back to him. "Oh, there's something else,"

Dwayne took a step closer to Cody as he leaned in to whisper in his ears. "I need you to stay away from Y/N. Or there will be consequences."

Something in Cody infuriated him as he looked at Dwayne. Dwayne patted his back once again before walking off.

Dwayne walking up to Cody and him mentioning WrestleMania didn't get under his skin. But you?

Cody rubbed his temple as you were now back in your head. Roman was the person who sent you to him. And now he's being told to stay away from you.

He couldn't help but laugh. He knew a thousand times that he should stay away from you. But now, just to piss Roman and Dwayne off, and because he knew eventually that he was going to fail at staying away, it made him not want to at the moment.

Cody's eyes scanned the party, then drifted back towards the bathroom door. You haven't left the bathroom since talking to Jey. And Cody fought with his intrusive thoughts, telling him to stay where he was, but wanting to go into that bathroom so badly.

Suddenly, he stood up from his seat, adjusting his suit as his eyes wandered, ensuring no one was looking in his direction. He cautiously made his way toward the bathroom door, making sure no one was watching. Once making it to the door, his eyes looked around one more time before stepping in.

-

You walked into an empty bathroom stall, straight towards the mirror, and started steadying your breathing. Your conversation with Jey went the way you didn't want it to.

You looked at yourself in the mirror as you replayed your conversation with Jey. From Roman to Cody, all you wanted was a peaceful talk with your brother without the outside drama getting in between, but that couldn't happen.

You stayed in the bathroom for a good minute, standing as you continued to take breaths, not trying to get everything under your skin.

All you wanted to do was leave the party, go back to your hotel, and sleep away the problems in your life. However, you couldn't do that, and reality kicked in when you jumped from getting scared of the door opening.

Unfortunately, your face immediately dropped as you looked at the person who had walked in. Cody.

He stared at you, watching your expression. Followed by a click, indicating that he had locked the bathroom door, you involuntarily gulped, followed by silence. His stares imitated you for some reason. You two were known for having intense eye contact, especially when you were around him to distract him. But for some reason, he made you feel small. You can feel him undressing you with his eyes. If only you knew that was exactly what he wanted to do to you that night.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice soft, almost whispered. Cody watched how you reacted to him. This wasn't the first time he'd seen you like this. But it felt different because there wasn't any distraction, no mind games, and just you two.

Cody walked up to you. You're back leaning against the bathroom table as you look up at him. You were trying to read his facial expression, but it was more of curiosity that you could see. "Are you okay?" He asked, not answering your original question.

However, you nodded, watching Cody, then looked down at your lip. You were unaware that you were biting your lip. He had his hands in his pocket right now, but at the moment, he felt himself clenching his hands hard, desperately stopping himself from bending you over and fucking you so severely.

"You shouldn't be in here, Cody," you tell him. Once again, Cody ignored what you said and asked a question about your statement. "You ever thought about that night, Y/N?"

Your heart dropped hearing what he had said. The night the two of you had sex for the first and only time. You thought about that night a little from time to time. The thought of you touching yourself to Cody crossed your mind, causing you to turn away and have your back facing him.

Cody caught a glimpse of your facial expression before you turned. At that moment, you were probably thinking about that night, something dirty. Cody's head was screaming at him to run to that bathroom stall, forget what came out of his mouth, and never speak about it again.

However, it suddenly got hot in the bathroom as you felt him very close to you, breathing down your neck. His hands secretly hesitated before pulling themselves out of his pocket and onto your waist.

"I thought about that night too many times; it's starting to torture me," Cody whispered in your ear. Your hand grabbed onto the table, clenching on it so hard. It took everything in your power not to lean your head back.

"The thought of touching you, making you moan, you'll be such a good girl."

Cody knew that you had a praise kink; it was something that he found incredibly attractive about. He had a kink to females who had a praise kink.

And because of that, he noticed your head shifted a bit, your eyes fluttered closed, and your lips parted open. Fuck those lips. God blessed you with beautiful lips. If it wasn't your skin or your moans that turned Cody on, it was your lips.

"We can't speak about this, Cody," you spoke. Cody felt himself sighing as he laid his head on your shoulders. Not because you were right, but because he was getting hard knowing they shouldn't be doing this.

And you felt it. It poked, causing you to think nothing but yourself throbbing for him. "Fuck," you let out as you couldn't help yourself from grinding against his clothed hard-on.

Why, all of a sudden, the two of you were folding so quickly? You wondered why Cody made you so needy so quickly.

But it didn't matter because he was the same way as he gripped your waist, pulling you closer to him. He watched you through the mirror that you had forgotten was the. Those pretty faces you were making as you bit your lip, stopping yourself from moaning. God, you looked so beautiful.

Cody couldn't help but grunt, seeing how you were reacting to grinding on him. His pants were highly uncomfortable, and he wanted more to fuck you in this bathroom. But he knew he couldn't. And he wasn't, not tonight in this bathroom, at least.

He turned around, however. Your eyes shot open as you stepped so close to the man, his chest almost touching. You now notice him staring down your lips. "Let me taste them, just this once?" he spoke. You remained quiet as his large hands were placed on your chest. They slowly crept up to your neck as he wrapped them around you.

You let out a small moan, causing his grip to be tighter. "Do not moan. Otherwise, I'm going to cum on myself."

Fuck. Why did he say that? It immediately made you do the opposite as another moan slipped out unintentionally. You didn't care that the man had just walked into the women's bathroom; you wanted him badly.

And hearing you moan once again caused Cody's hard-on to joint, tightening his grip. But his grip around your neck wasn't helping him either. You were getting turned by it. Fuck, praise kink, and now a choking kink, has had he remained himself from fucking you.

Cody leans in and lightly places his lips onto yours. He just wanted to touch your lips, that's all. And you didn't stop him; once you felt his kissing, you immediately kissed him back.

The hand that was around your neck was now wrapped around the back of your neck, as his other hand was on your chest. The kiss was slow, and both of you took in how you two felt.

It wasn't until you and your actions nearly made Cody explode as he groaned in between your kisses that caused the two of you to fight with each other using your tongues.

Your hand tugged on his hair as your other hand pulled him close, and you leaned against the bathroom sink again. His hands now went straight down to your ass, squeezing it as your mouth opened while kissing him. Cody rolled his tongue, swallowing your moan.

Your mind couldn't process the fact Cody put his tongue down your mouth. It wasn't processing because of how good the kiss was. You couldn't help but push him away; however, the two of you couldn't even stare at each other, and you were both out of breath.

But Cody wasn't finished. You felt his hands slightly lifting your dress a bit before he reached the side of your underwear.

You watched him, lips slightly swollen, as his eyes darted down at your dress, pulling your underwear down till you kicked it off your ankles.

It was now in Cody's hand as he stared down at it—a black lace thong. Despite walking into the bathroom, he felt you were doing this on purpose. Oh, to see your legs spread open, having nothing but a lace thong covering your pretty clit of yours. He would have tasted you over the thong. The last time he ate you out, he had to reframe himself from making you cum so quickly. He's given head before to other females. You, the taste of your wet clit was too fucking good.

His breathing was what you notice. His chest was rising heavily as you held your thong in his hand. You bite your lip as you take it from him and shove it in his pocket to give him a souvenir. Then, with risk, a substantial fucking risk, you took his hand and placed it in between your thighs.

He didn't pull his hand back. Instead, he moved his hand upwards, allowing your legs to spread again. Your eyes fluttered shut as your hand immediately held onto Cody's hand. You could feel his fingers playing with your folds, feeling how wet you were.

Oh, my fucking gosh, Cody felt absolutely ruined. The pretty sounds coming out your mouth, the fact you were so wet for him you could hear it. He knew that after tonight, there were going to be consequences for his actions. But right now, he rather sees you cum on his fingers.

"You're so fucking dirty," Cody whispered in your ear. "You like that I'm playing with your pretty pussy in this bathroom where there are so many people out there."

Cody bit down on your ear lobe as you let out a whimper. You then looked up at him as he moaned and grew louder, trying your hardest not to have someone hear. But both you and Cody were making that difficult.

"I love it when you play with my pussy, Cody." You moaned out. "Fuck, I missed this, I missed the way you made me feel."

Cody was going feral right now. His fingers were now inside you as he felt you grinding down on them. What has he gotten himself into?

Your mouth was filthy, and you didn't care. Significantly when Cody sped his pace with his fingers, thrusting them in you faster. You threw your head back as he immediately started kissing your neck.

You can feel Cody grinding on your thigh, trying to find some release. You wanted to return the favor as your hand found his erection, cupping it.

However, you frowned as Cody pulled your hand back as he looked at you. "Not today, baby. Right now, it's about you."

You didn't argue. You couldn't argue as Cody added another finger, finger fucking your clit. You felt your orgasm coming.

All you wanted to do was moan loudly as you felt yourself about cum. But you couldn't. Despite being a party, you knew someone would hear you two.

Cody moaned, however, as you brought your lips to his ears and moaned in them. He felt your legs clenching, your clit clenching around his finger. "Ohhh, I'm close, fuck!"

Cody's finger didn't stop thrusting into you as you reached your climax, cumming on his finger. He watched as your face washed over with bliss, your knuckles turning white as you held on to the table and his shoulders. It was such a beautiful sight to see.

You felt him move his fingers out your clit and watch him look down his finger before raising it to his mouth and getting a taste of your wetness. Cody couldn't help but moan. You taste so sweet, so fucking good. It was impossible that you tasted that so fucking good

Your mouth slightly parted as you let out a small gasp, watching him do something unholy. It turned you on all over again, watching him taste you on his finger.

The two of you tried your hardest to avoid each other. After tonight, you knew it was going to be impossible now.

Last Part | Next Part

TAGGED LIST

@yolobloggers @reebs-luvs-rhodes-and-wrestling @rickastleybaby

@princessesareforsuckers

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Hello, hope you're doing alright. I have a pretty twisted one shot request concerning our amazing Shadowsinger. I was looking at the super natural dark dialogue prompts list and I feel like the #24 and #36 would fit perfectly for my request.

So basically: I was thinking about Azriel capturing the reader. She's a spy from the Spring Court and she was on a mission wandering at the border of the Night Court. When the reader wakes up, she's tied up in Azriel torture room. She also realizes how Azriel seems to be drawn to her. As she tries to find a way to make him untie her, she remembers something about Illyrians obssesion with bargains and deals. She offers to make a deal with him that the first one to make the other cum earn a favor. If she wins he spares her life, and if not he can kill her. And like as they conclude the pack, a tattoo appears on both of them and bla bla bla... and she ends up winning this challenge maybe?

Can't wait to see if you'll be willing to write this! I think it would have a lot of potential if written by you. Anyways, keep up your good work. I love your writing.

Okay, I know I said my next release would be the POM bonus bits, and then I’d be working on my other pieces, but I got this request and had immediate inspiration for it, so here it is!

Thank you to whoever sent this in! I hope I did it justice. It was very fun to write! I hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

The prompts you requested to be included in this will be written in bold.

Note: I haven’t tagged anyone in this because I desperately need to sort out my tag lists and haven’t had the chance. I’ll add them later if I get the time. Sorry!

Warnings: Smut! 18+, minors dni. NSFW. Some details of aggressive behaviour. Azriel being a sore ass LOSER.

Lust is a Losing Game — Azriel x Reader.

You can feel the caress of Night before your eyes open.

Every single court you have trespassed and traversed has its own distinct feel. The Autumn Court feels perpetually — and unsurprisingly — like a stroll through a forest, touched by brisk air and hues of oranges, yellows, reds. Your home court — Spring — has a feeling of renewed hope; like the first rays of sun after a long, harsh winter.

The Night Court is blood-drenched, rippling darkness, and the allure of scandal, of want, of lust.

Night time is for secrets and exploration. It’s for burning the bridge between who you are in the daylight and becoming something…else. It’s exciting, and it’s coaxing, and—

Cold, sharp metal prods beneath your chin. Its point is lethal. Any wrong move, and you’re bleeding.

Perhaps even more lethal is the quiet voice that commands, “Eyes open.”

Slowly, you comply — because you are both intrigued and wise. Intrigued by where you went wrong and where you ended up. Wise, because you know that cold, granite voice.

It doesn’t surprise you in the least to open your eyes and find Azriel the shadowsinger stood in front of you, his blade at your throat.

You know of him, of course — spymaster of the Night Court, a rare species of fae, far more powerful than many realise. You’ve sat across from him during terse meetings between courts and been the target of those guarded, icy stares. You’ve never heard him utter more than a few words at a time; he is spoken for by reputation, by violence and threat and battle.

But you’d know that voice anywhere.

You peer up at him through eyes blurred by some sort of power. And when your lips tilt up into a smile, a subtle tick of his jaw tells you it incenses him.

“Hello, Azriel.” You rasp.

The blade presses into your skin as he asks, “What were you doing at the border of our court?”

“Picking wildflowers. Foraging berries. Making a daisy chain. All the things a lady loves to do.”

A quiet noise sounds in his throat. “Is that what you are? A lady?”

“I’m whatever you want me to be, shadowsinger.”

His answering smile is cruel. A harsher press, and his blade nicks your throat. A drop of warm blood blooms on your skin.

Your eyes, rapidly clearing, take quick stock of your surroundings. The room is dark and damp and cold, empty save for the chair on which you sit — to which you are constrained. You can scent the blood of a thousand previous victims of the shadowsinger, and you imagine the vacancy of the space must have been more intimidating to them, somehow, than if the room were filled to the brim with torture instruments. The lack thereof tells anyone who finds themselves here that the Night Court’s spymaster does not need such things to do his work.

You try to shift in the chair, and find yourself well and truly stuck in place. Your gaze drops to your feet, where shadows act as manacles, as firm and strong and steel. Though your hands are restrained around the back of the chair, the cool touch tells you that a shadow binds them, too.

Azriel follows your gaze. A smug smile graces his mouth as he watches you try and fail to move.

“An impressive little trick.” You offer, nodding to the shadows around your ankles. “Now be a gentleman and untie me.”

“Tell me what you were doing at our border, and maybe I will.”

“Tell me your secrets and I’ll tell you mine.”

“You’re not really in the position to barter, right now, are you?”

“And yet, here I am.” You smile. “Bartering.”

He stares down at you, shrouded in shadows, in night. His aloofness has been perfected over centuries, but you somehow know where to look in order to tell — you’re getting on his nerves.

A slight angling of his head. Shifting on his feet. He drags the tip of that blade up, not pressing quite hard enough to draw more blood, but to make a twisted heat enter your veins. The blade stops at your cheek.

“I don’t know how you do things in the Spring Court.” His breath caresses your face. “But I can’t imagine it’s part of your job description to be a smartass who can’t keep her mouth shut.”

Your eyes flick down to that blade. Back up to his gaze. “I can’t imagine it’s part of yours to lust over me so tirelessly.”

The shadowsinger actually falters.

Something tells you he would never do that in front of somebody else.

His teeth grit. He bites out, “Tell me why the fuck you were at the border—”

“I’ve seen you, you know.” A satisfied smirk curls your lips. You will not give away that your arms and legs are beginning to ache. “I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me for years.”

A clatter bounces off the walls as he tosses his dagger to the floor. Can’t be one that means much to him, then. You almost laugh, but a scarred hand is gripping your chin to the point of pain. He tilts — yanks — your chin up. “Pray, tell, how do I look at you?”

“With hunger.”

“Hatred.”

“Lust.”

“Loathing.”

“Like you want to touch me.”

“I am going,” he snarls, “to wrap my hands around your throat and—”

“Fuck me?”

“Kill you.”

A mocking pout puckers your lips. “Less sexy.”

"You must be a fool," his fingers bite into your skin, "to laugh in the face of such danger."

"What danger would that be? You've handed me your threats. What are you waiting for, Azriel? Kill me."

He could easily retrieve his blade and gut you then and there. You know it. He knows it.

And yet he doesn't do it.

He clenches his jaw so hard that you hear his teeth clash. He squeezes your chin, calluses and scars grazing you. It feels...good.

But then a growl is ripping from deep within his chest, and he's tearing his hand away and pivoting on the spot. He's confident enough in the shadow bindings to turn his back to you, clearly.

You just smile. He can't do it. Can't kill you.

"I'll do you the courtesy of asking one last time." His voice is strained. "Why were you snooping around our border."

"Perhaps I was hoping you'd find me and tie me to a chair. I'm into that kind of stuff, you know. We could make this fun."

"You think this room is intended for fun?"

"I think you and I could have fun anywhere, shadowsinger."

He says nothing. You watch as he sucks in a deep breath, steels himself. By his command, a shadow dances out and retrieves his blade from the floor. His fist flexes at his side.

Perhaps you can irritate him enough that he'll either kill you or let you leave out of pure exasperation. Or turn on the tears and plead innocence, that you're just a foolish, foolish girl doing her High Lord's bidding.

Or perhaps you can have fun.

You scan your brain for what you know about this court. How you can use it to your advantage — use Azriel to your advantage. An idea knits itself in the twisted avenues of your mind.

"This court has a thing for bargains, does it not?" You watch Azriel's shoulders tense at the sound of your voice. "How about making a bargain with me?"

He chokes on a scoff. "Why would I want to make a bargain with you?"

"Because you want me."

Slowly, he turns. His eyes are narrowed, mouth pinched. He looks two seconds away from using that blade to wipe your head clean from your neck.

But then he smiles, cruelly and coldly. "How very sure of yourself you sound."

You mimic that smile. "I am." Damn right you are. "So here is my deal: you toy with that lust however you like. We tease each other. Coax reactions from each other."

"Where is the bargain in that?" No outright refusal.

"If I make you cum first, shadowsinger," your eyes fall to his breeches. You could swear you glimpse the outline of a bulge. "If I make you cum first, I get to walk out of here with my head still attached to my body. But if you make me cum first...well. You get to know why I was snooping around the Night Court border, and you can send my head back to my High Lord in a pretty little box."

He stares at you for what feels like so, so long. Head to toe, his eyes rake over you. His shadows whisper in his ears, things you don't need nor care to hear.

Because you might not have his shadows, but you are a spy, just as he is. And you know his mind is already made up.

Shadowsinger, spymaster, feared member of the infamous Night Court — but still, a male weakened by lust. Lust for you that has driven him mad for a long, long time.

Still, he tries to keep up a front. He sneers at you, "You'd so willingly barter away your life?"

You smile. Simply, prettily. "It turns me on."

Oh, he's lost to his need. There's a newer scent that has joined the present ones of cedar and night-chilled mist and bloodstains. This one is deeper, smokier. Spicier.

He points his blade at you, the tip glimmering. And the shadow binds fall away as he demands, "Undress."

Your hands fall back to your sides. "Are you saying you agree to my terms?"

"Yes. Now take. Your fucking. Clothes off."

"What way is that to talk to a lady?"

"You are no lady—" His words fall short as, with a snap of your fingers, your clothes disappear. Leave you in nothing but your undergarments. His eyes drink in the brassiere, the silky little fabric that hangs from your hips. He swallows. "And I am no gentleman."

A spy you may be — someone who throws themself into danger and risk and dirt and blood, time and time again. But you never see a reason not to wear pretty underwear while doing so. And gods, in this moment, you're very glad of that choice.

It's the same colour as the siphons that adorn the male before you. The coldness in Azriel's eyes is replaced by intense, raw heat. He takes a step towards you, but you kick out a leg.

"Your turn." You say.

He pauses. Chucks his dagger aside again.

And then his clothes are gone.

He doesn't seem the slightest bit fazed by the fact that he stands utterly naked before you. So much golden, sculpted skin on show. All over, white scars tell the stories of previous injuries. His body is a novel written over time.

That silky underwear of yours is already soaked as you take your fill of him. For a moment, you think you might stumble in your bravado. He's huge and hard and standing to attention. Utterly perfect.

But you sit up straight in the chair and plant your hands on the arms. Your legs part, and Azriel hungrily tracks the movement.

"There is only one rule." You tell him. "We don't want to make this too easy, after all."

His jaw flexes. Eyes don't stray from the growing damp patch between your thighs. "What's the rule."

"You can touch me. You can lick me. You can put your cock in my mouth and my hand and rub it against my skin. But you can't fuck me."

He starts, pupils blowing wide. "But—"

"Not today." Your lips curl up. "But if I win, and I walk out of here? Some other time, Azriel, you can fuck me."

"You are wicked."

"Do you accept my rule?"

"Yes."

You are wicked, indeed. You widen that gap between your legs until you're hooking them over the arms of the chair. Baring your silk-covered cunt to him. His eyes damn near roll into the back of his head at the sight.

"Do you think you can stand to touch me without fucking me?" You hum, your fingers dancing down to that, sweet, sweet spot. You run them over the dampness, biting your lip. "I don't think you can."

"You underestimate me." Azriel growls. "And you're going to cum first."

There is no opportunity for you to volley a response. Not as Azriel surges forward and yanks you out of the chair, his arms securing you. His firm, velvety cock presses against your stomach. His lips slide over yours in a harsh, bruising kiss.

A male of natural elegance and grace, he doesn't even falter in the kiss or his steps as he marches you back, back, until you're pressed up against a cold wall. You nip his bottom lip and reach between your bodies, wanting to feel the pulsing weight of his cock in your palm, but his hands are grabbing your wrists and holding them above your head.

"No hands." He snarls onto your lips. "Just my cock and your cunt. Whoever cums first is the loser."

You almost want to laugh. So, so easy this will be.

But then he's letting go of your hands and pinning you with a knee. And out of fucking nowhere, a slim bottle appears between his fingers. You watch, leaning against the cold surface of the wall, as he pulls the stopper out of the bottle and tilts it towards you.

Oil drips onto your chest. Rolls down your breasts, your stomach. Azriel watches with predatory focus as it floods to where he wants it — soaking your underwear.

The blue silk darkens, sticks to your skin. Showcases everything that Azriel so desperately wants, but everything he will not get — today.

And then so quickly, he's hoisting your leg at his hip. So quickly, his cock is pressing into your soaking undergarments.

He positions his length between your thighs and guides it through your clothed folds. Both of you let out an immediate gasp at the taunting sensation — that a mere bit of fabric separates you from what you both want.

"Is this how you're going to play it?" Your head falls back, teeth digging into your lower lip. "You think thrusting through my clothes is going to stop you from cumming?"

"No." He makes a small noise, slowly rolling his hips. Watches his glistening cock rubbing against the silk. "But I think I'm going to make you cum fast from it."

"And then you get to kill me."

"And then," the head of his cock nudges your clit, "I get to kill you."

The sensation is divine, you can’t deny it. A coiled, aching pleasure that sits tightly in your lower belly. Azriel hears your intake of breath, and he smiles like this will be easy for him. You’re having none of that.

You’re thankful for your refined stealth and balance as you clamp your leg tighter around him, pull him harder against you. His hands press flat against the wall either side of your head, and you both gasp as his cock rubs so torturously against you, up and down and up and down.

“Gods,” He grunts, dipping down to brush his lips against yours. “This is torture.”

You smile. “Does it feel good?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to remove my underwear? You still can’t fuck me, though.”

A suffering groan chokes out of him, and he throws his head back. Because yes, he fucking wants you to remove your underwear. Yes, he wants to feel his bare skin rubbing against your bare skin.

But gods, the temptation to slide his cock into you is going to be unbearable.

But even though he knows that, and you know that, he smiles like this is nothing. He bites out, pleasure wavering his voice, “Why not? It’ll only make you lose.”

“I think you’re giving yourself a little too much credit.” You say, and then your underwear is gone, leaving you naked and dripping with nothing to shield you.

Not expecting it so fast, Azriel’s cock slides easily through your folds — and the head nudges your entrance. Very nearly slips in. He growls and halts the roll of his hips.

“Oops.” You smirk. “Careful, shadowsinger.”

“You’re fucking insufferable.” He bites back, and then he’s kissing you.

The kiss robs you of breath and of words. All you can do is twine your arms around his neck and welcome the sensation of him fucking through your folds, your wetness his pleasure. You’re lost to the feeling of him bumping against your clit, rubbing against it. Your legs are beginning to tremble.

“I want to fuck you.” Azriel moans, dropping his head to take in the sight of his cock against your pussy, never entering, never going deeper.

“I know.” Your fingernails dig into his shoulders. “And you have wanted to for a very long time.”

“Yes.” He can’t even deny it. “Yes.”

“You think about me.”

“Yes.”

“You wonder what it’s like to be inside me.”

“Yes.”

“But not today.” Your hands stroke down his muscled arms, and you moan as he grinds his cock against your clit. “Not today.”

“Nor any other day.” His hand fists in your hair, yanking your head up. “Because I will have your head. Cum for me, lady.”

He kisses you again, and gods, you want to cum. Every single inch of you begs and trembles for it. You’re clenching around nothing, desperate to feel him inside you, fucking into you, spilling into you—

But through your pleasured haze, you remember: you will be victorious. Azriel cannot win.

And so when he’s kissing you and kissing you, moans catching in his throat and landing in your mouth, hips faltering with every thrust, you pull your lips from his and sink your teeth into his neck with a harsh bite. You’ve always imagined he’d like that.

And simultaneously, you lock him between your thighs and roll your hips torturously slow, dragging every last sensation from him.

Azriel’s cock, nestled snugly between the folds of your cunt, spasms and twitches. He slams his hands against the wall and goes still. Tries to pull back the control.

But it’s too late for that.

“Fuck!” He shouts, and then ropes of cum are spurting out of him and landing on your stomach, your breasts, your arms. Beads of it roll down his cock. He trembles hard, panting, groaning, growling.

And you suck harshly at his neck. Suck until it leaves a mark. And then pull away with a smile.

Breathing so, so heavily, Azriel’s gaze drops down to his cock like the damn thing has betrayed him. He’s wide-eyed and outraged. He’s not sure what’s just happened.

A horrid longing still aches between your legs and makes you want to continue until you’re exploding, too. But the triumph of a win is pleasure in itself.

“Well, well, well.” You glance down at the cum now coating your skin. “I do believe I was right.”

“What—” Azriel breathes, shaking out of his lust. “What kind of witchcraft was that?” He touches his neck, where you bit him. As though the answer lies there.”

You shrug. “No witchcraft, though I’m flattered you think so. You simply lost the game.”

“I. Don’t. Lose.”

“You just did.” You pat his shoulder. “There, there.”

He rips away, so fast that you almost fall. “Get the fuck away from me.”

“Gladly.” With a snap of your fingers, you’re squeaky clean and clothed once more. Azriel’s clothes return, too. “And I’ll do so with my pretty head still on my shoulders—

“Get out.”

“Because I won the game—”

“Get. Out.”

“A bargain’s a bargain, after all—”

“I will not tell you again.” His hand grabs the back of your neck, hard enough to bruise, and he marches you to the door, yanking it open. “Out.”

You’re thrown into a dim-lit hallway, your body colliding with a cold brick wall. You throw Azriel a smile over your shoulder, despite your teeth singing at the impact.

“Try not to wank over me too much!” You call, as he slams the door shut behind him. “See you around!”

It’s only once you’ve winnowed back to your own court, and you’re bathing the day from your skin, that you notice the small black band inked into your upper arm. You scrub at it until it’s red raw. It doesn’t budge.

The mark of a bargain. But you had always believed that the tattoos of bargains disappeared once the terms were fulfilled…

But if I win, and I walk out of here? Some other time, Azriel, you can fuck me…

It had all been bravado. And yet…it had unwittingly been woven into the bargain.

Some other time, Azriel, you can fuck me.

That’s the only way you’re getting that mark off your skin.

[kiwiikato]

mommy’s here // ken sato x reader

Chapter Nine

masterlist

note: so like i died.... IM SORRY EVERYONE, i have so many comments to read and respond to so i'm sorry for the disappearing. i just get so busy with my mental health and family. i don't have tumblr on my phone always, it's an on and off thing so thank you for the patience. this chapter is really choppy and maybe misspelling. sorry guys <3 :(

you sat cross legged on the floor at the hidden base under kenji's house. kenji and mina were with you as you stared at the baby kaiju who babbled and cooed at the cartoons that played for her.

you watched as kenji admired himself in the reflection of the containment unit, styling it for his public image. you couldn't help but to tag along in admiring him as well, it isn't everyday that you get to admire athletically attractive kenji sato! but it was not your everyday, for the past months it has been.

"mina, we got plenty of fish and pon de rings, right?" ken asked as he straightened out his coat. "yes ken, we're all stocked up." ken turned around, turning to the both of you. "now if she wakes up, put her show on. let her dance her little heart out to that stupid song. and if there's any trouble, you let y/n know. and if you need additional help, you ping me on this."

ken raised his arm, showing off his watch to you both. "ken, she's never been safer. have a good time." mina said reassuring him of the baby kaiju's safety. he smiled softly, turning to you as he crouched down to your level. "let me know if you need anything, okay? i'll drop everything and come back. i'll be back soon, don't worry that pretty little head of yours about this interview either, okay?"

you nodded, giving him a happy "okay!" to which he smiled back. "atta girl." his hands found your face as he pulled you in, placing a kiss on your lips and then another on your head. you blushed at his affectionate actions, still not so used to them. he smiled as he got up, walking away to the interview he had promised to ms. wakita.

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you got rid of the containment unit that held your baby kaiju in, asking for help from mina to pull up a hologram of an area covered with trees. the reason why was to show the baby how to play a game of hide and seek.

she was getting restless and persistent asking for kenji to come back. none of the videos playing were enough to satisfy her so you took it upon yourself to distract her with a new game.

you showed her you hiding behind a tree or a bush of sorts, giving her time to mimic you. it didn't take long for her to get the movement down as she copied you. "good job girl! you got this." you said cheering her on.

it was then that an idea came into your head. "mina, can you help me with a demonstration?" mina floated down towards you. "yes y/n, what would you like me to do?" she asked as she hovered in front of you.

"can you do me the favor of counting to twenty, letting me hide in that duration of time like your typical game of hide and seek. i want to show the baby kaiju how to do it so we can both play." mina nodded in her own way, flying to a tree near by.

she 'closed' her eyes as she faced the tree and waiting for your signal. "okay baby, me and mina are gonna show you hide and seek. just sit and watch, okay?" you told her as she cooed. "okay, ready mina!"

you ran as you heard mina began to count down. your feet hit the floor as you ran through the trees, looking for one in a closed area to hide you better. diving into the area, you crouched down, pulling your body to your knees to make yourself look smaller, more hidden to mina.

mina soon hit twenty, moving away from the tree and began to look for you. the baby kaiju watched, wondering where you went. her eyes followed as mina searched for you, yelling your name out to lure you out. no response came from you, showing no signs of who she considered to be her parent.

it wasn't long before she panicked, her eyes began to glaze over with tears, bringing her to cry as she yelled out for you. your body that was hidden stiffened hearing her cry, instantly jumping away from the trees that blocked you from her view.

"mina! call the hologram off!" mina instantly stopped playing, returning the big room back into its metallic silver state. you turned into your ultra form, rushing to her as you picked her up. you held her to your chest, softly rubbing her back as you rocked her side to side. her head perched at your shoulder as her small hands wrapped around your neck and shoulder.

"there there. i'm here, everything's okay." you hummed softy, trying to soothe her. "would you like me to pull out the containment unit for her?" mina floated up to you asking. "yes please, that would be nice, thank you."

the containment unit rose from the ground, opening to allow you to put the baby kaiju inside the familiar area. she grabbed the crushed car, hugging it to her body. "do you want to see daddy?" mina asked her to which she cooed. you watched as her eyes lit up, having a soft spot for kenji.

"here you go." mina pulled out videos of kenji making her happily spin around to watch them all, forget in about the incident from earlier. "how about a snack while you watch?" mina asked as a small platform with a huge fish rose to her. "oooh look at the fishy, so yummy!" you cheered as she grabbed the fish and ate it happily.

her joyful expression didn't last long, changing into one of discomfort as her stomach grumbled from the fish she ate. she burped out, a green circle of gas leaving her lips as she looked at it weirdly.

"oh my! what you're experiencing is acid reflux. symptoms include heartburn, nausea-" mina was cut off by the baby opening her mouth, a nuclear burp of sorts shooting out a laser that burned through the glass of the containment unit.

you and mina panicked, as she escaped, pushing through the hole, letting her out into the open space. the whole room set off with alarms, flashing the room with red and sirens. mina ran to the side waving her robotic arms. "look over here. look at daddy. he's right here!" a inflatable figure of kenji grew from the ground, looking slightly disturbing at the way his face was plastered on.

you stared at it confused. "where did you even get this mina?" "please do not question." you laughed slightly, returning back to the situation as the baby kaiju ran up to the inflatable and hugged 'kenji'.

"y/n, go searching for kenji. he's not answering his watch and i'm worried we won't be able to fix this situation ourselves. he's at tonkatsu tonki."

you nodded your head, quickly running out of the place, not without hearing the pop of the inflatable. you ran into kenji's garage, taking one of his other motorcycles to reach him. 'sorry ken, hope you don't mind this.' you thought to yourself as you revved the engine and drove forward.

the wind fought against your body as you sped quickly off onto the bridge, stunned at how it grew over the body of water that separated you from the city. it wasn't long before you reached the main land, driving around in a hurry to where ken would be.

you had to stop at a red light, impatiently waiting for it to turn green. your eyes widened, watching a pink object jump over the city as it landed down and chased after something. "is that-" your phone rang, quickly answering it to mina.

"y/n, the baby is in daikanyama, i was able to contact ken, he is currently heading that way." "thank you mina." you hit the gas in the motocycle when the lights turned green, quickly cutting between traffic in a rush to reach the baby kaiju.

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ken frantically drove through the roads, searching for the baby after his alarm had went off signaling him of the chaos that was happening at his house.

"ken, a disturbance has been reported in daikanyama. there seems to be a large, pink creature terrorizing the locals. i am sorry. i'm a terrible babysitter." mina told him over his helmet of his motorbike. "yes, yes you are! where is y/n?!" he yelled over to mina.

"she is currently searching the baby kaiju. i had sent her out to contact you since you had not been answering my alerts over your watch. in the short time that she was gone, the baby had escaped." he groaned, worried but glad to know that he wasn't the only one looking for her.

"ken, i have located her, she is not too far from you." "maybe i can get to her before-" he was cut off hearing the sound of the KDF drones fly over him. panic set over his as he watched them for the baby. "send the location to y/n!" he yelled out in fear.

"location has been sent, she will be there." mina responded back as ken zoomed through the colorful city. you, on the other hand, zapped into your ultra form, jumping into the sky as you flew quickly over the city. the motorbike had been set down on top of the roof of a building, trying to prevent it from being stolen.

your eyes landed on the baby kaiju who chased after some people. you recognized one of them as the reporter that ken had the interview with, as she ran with an older lady and a child in her arms. you landed roughly on the ground. you were started to see that kenji had arrived right after you.

the both of you made eye contact, focusing on the problem at hand. "hey! come on, come on." kenji yelled out to her, making the baby turn out at look at you both, jumping up at joy. "come to mommy and ...daddy." you heard as he hesitated to call himself that, not used to the idea of being a caregiver for something officially. "come here baby." you said as you crouched down, opening your arms for her to run into.

the crown around gasped, reminding you of being in public. you quickly stiffed up as kenji verbally panicked. "uh i- i mean, stop there, beast!" he posed dramatically, kneeling on one knee as he placed on hand on his hip and the other in front of him in a stop motion.

you snickered at him, until you heard the familiar rumbles. your eyes turned to see the babies eyes grow wide as she closed her mouth in a desperate motion. "no, no, no..." kenji mumbled watching as she look like she was about to barf. but she didn't, instead another laser shot out from her mouth, slamming against shields that the both of you had made in front of you to not get hurt.

the laser bounced off from your shields, knocking down a pac man statue that kenji picked up. "uh mina, we have a situation. baby just melted pack man." you got up from the kneeling position, "kenji!" you were calling out for him to turn, seeing the baby kaiju start to walk away.

leaving him in his conversation with mina, you chased after the baby. desperate to reach for her and to have her back in your arms. she bounced and jumped after people who sat in go carts, excited to catch what she thought was a toy that shined colors in the road. you fearfully moved around after her, scared of stepping on something or someone.

"hey! baby!" you yelled out for her to look back at you but instead she continued to run. you internally cussed, aggravated at the situation at hand. finally she stopped running, causing you to skid to a stop.

you looked up seeing her eyes on something. a sort of robotic machine, just like in the shape of mina floated around her. tiny coos of happiness came out from her, possibly confusing it for mina. her joy was gone as she watched it change shapes, making her turn her head to the side.

"baby, come to me, please." you took slow and quiet steps but the machine flew in front of her, right in between the both of you. "stupid KDF." you mumbled as you walked slower. the thing suddenly shot out a needle with green liquid at her leg, causing her to stumble.

you weren't that clothes, and you were still in the main street of people, so walking was becoming an issue. you watched with fear as she pulled out a street light pole, holding it up to her body as she whacked the robot towards you. you quickly caught it in your hands, squashing the machine and dropping the broken pieces of metal.

she happily jumped towards you, you went to grab at her. she was right there, in the grasp of your fingers, yet she slipped away. it felt like the world was against you. all you wanted more than ever was her in your arms.

she jumped high, highest you've ever seen as she's launched herself a metal tower. she was far from your reach again. you groaned as you ran through the street, hoping you hadn't stepped on anything.

you watched as she jumped up, climbing the tall structure. it was almost like the world held some pity for you as you saw kenji run up to her. "where's baby? there she is! come down! right now, be careful!" you watched him yell for her to return as you got closer. jumping, you were able to land next to him.

"she's not listening ultraman! she's not going to come back down. we have to go up." you said panting slightly. your hands found the bar of the tower, grabbing onto it as you climbed up in a hurry. you just wanted your baby. kenji took the hint and climbed up as well, jumping up farther, almost like a spider monkey.

a swarm of KDF jets and robots swarmed in at the both of you, surrounding the baby. you watched as they shot more of the similar needles from earlier ago, covering her back in multiple needles.

a shrill cry was heard from the baby kaiju, now slightly dangling at the attack she experienced. you quickly climbed up trying to get to her but a jet flew in front of you, trying to stop you from reaching them. kenji shot out a blast of energy, hitting al the small robots to get away from the baby kaiju.

the jet in front of you flew into your hair, shooting out a smoke bomb of sorts, blocking our your vision. you waved at the smoke, trying to get rid of it as you coughed. you heard kenji yell out. "hold on! i'm coming!" making you panic more since you couldn't see much.

you heard a cry from the baby kaiju, making you climb up in a hurry, unaware of your surroundings, just to reach her. "NO!" you heard kenji yell out, till a snap of sorts was heard. "y/n y/n, please help." you heard a voice call out to you in a soft whisper, laced with worry and panic.

"i can't see, fuck, where are you?" you called out. "climb higher, i'll be right here." you quickly climbed up till you could finally see. you stared at the baby kaiju who laid in kenji arms. "what happened??" you asked.

"she was right there - she was falling and i tried reaching but i just could barely reach and something snapped - she's hurt, fuck, she's hurt." he turned to look down at the baby while breathing heavily. "shh it's okay, you're gonna be okay, daddy's here." you went to reach out to him, to carry the baby, but before you could the jets of the KDF surrounded you.

"ultras! turn the infant over to the KDF and we will take no action against the both of you." kenji and you looked at each other. you felt your eyebrows furrow in anger at their offer while kenji growled to himself. he turned to you, giving an almost 'up' motion with his head. you knew what he meant.

the both of you blasted off into the air, flying away from the scene of the attack. "give her to me kenji, i'll make sure she's okay." kenji passed the baby kaiju to you. you held her to your body, your body wanting to protect her from any more pain.

"mina, she's hurt! prepare the base! we have to call him. call my dad." his voice sounded hurt, scared of what was to happen. you could only hold the baby closer than before, careful with her arm, as you floated to his house.

TAGLIST!

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[cripplecharacters]

I am writing a fanfic about a character known as pure vanilla cookie from a cookie run game who is implied to be visually impaired/blind. And may I ask if it is okay if I write her flower wand as a cane. While the character is still visually impaired, but using the staff as a sort of cane and removing the whole 'fixing disability trope' and i've been wondering if it okay to use the flower staff as cane?

Hello, thank you for your ask!

(Edit: this post has been corrected! Thank you so much to @askablindperson for your feedback!)

Note: I myself am not blind but I did talk with another mod about the ask. If any of our blind/visually impaired followers want to chime in feel free! Also I don't know a lot about Cookie Run lore, so sorry if i get something wrong because I'm going off of images of the character.

I think it's great to change a canonically disabled character so they experience their disability rather than getting magically cured, however looking at photos of the staff there are some things about it that would need to change, and some things you should consider.

I think the main issue with using their wand as a cane would be the flower on top. Real world canes are held at the handel with the top pointed at their stomach, and I'd imagine having a large, bulky flower on top would make it harder to handle. If the flower were to be able to move out of the way or shrink it might be easier to use.

The staff is also much taller than a white cane. Long canes are typically a bit taller than shoulder level, while Pure Vanilla Cookie's staff seems to reach well over their head. This would make it difficult to use unless it can shrink.

The bottom of the cane looks curved, similar to a bundu basher tip (although actual bundu bashers have angles instead of being completely rounded), which are ment for traveling in unpaved, natural areas. This type of tip would make sense for a character that's in nature a lot, but not for a character that lives in a well paved city. I'd recommend looking up cane tips and what they're used for depending on where Pure Vanilla Cookie lives. Cane tips also get worn after a lot of use, so unless the staff can regrow its tip it's going to need to be able to be taken off and be changed.

Another thing to consider is how recognizable it is as a white cane. Signaling blindness can be useful in situations such as a driver knowing a blind person is at the crosswalk and they might start walking before the light changes, it lets other people know to be more careful. This is also why identification canes (or id canes) exist, they're canes that don't help with navigation but instead let other people know that while they do have remaining vision they're still blind.

If you wanted to make the staff a cane you'd have to change a lot about it, or give Pure Vanilla Cookie both the staff as well as a white cane (or a guide dog/animal [if they don't have dogs in CR] or a guide).

I'd also recommend looking through our #white canes and #blindness tags, as well as blogs focused on blind characters such as blindbeta! Feel free to ask again if you have any more specific questions about portraying a blind person or tropes.

Have a lovely day!

Mod Rot

[inactiveobeymeblog]

The Brothers Cock Warming M!MC

Probably has been before but oh well. I wanted to add my own little pizazz to it. Also not a lot of male mc.

Tags: the brothers are on the receiving end, cock warming, praise kink, degradation kink, office sex, male mc/AMAB reader, teasing, and edging. Read at your own risk!!

Lucifer

This man is so hard to get away from his work

He’s practically married to it (and maybe Diavolo)

The moment you walk into his study he immediately tried to dismiss you, thinking you are one of his brothers

Boy was he ever so wrong

“Luci.” You would call out

His head immediately shoots up and he drops his pen

He would be so happy to see you he wouldn’t be able to help the corners of his lips curving upwards

You’d walk over to him and waste no time in kissing him

He’d kiss back and your plan is set in motion

Time skip to when you’re shedding his clothes off of him

If you really want him to cockwarm you, you have to get him in the mood

It’s pretty easy to do, too

Start by slowly undoing his tie and slowly unbuttoning his vest while softly kissing his nape

He’ll get impatient but he’ll also be curious

“You know, I haven’t seen you all day. I’ve missed you.”

Find any excuse to praise him

Whether if it be complimenting his looks or complimenting his behavior; it gets him riled up and ready

But what he doesn’t expect is when you both are only sitting there, cock fully sheathed inside him

He gets confused but catches on pretty quickly

He picks up his pen gets back to work

But let’s be real here

He’s not getting anything done

Not when you have the chance to screw with him in the best way possible

You’d start by wandering your hands all over his body while nipping at any reachable exposed skin

Then you’d move on to shifting slightly on purpose so you’d move inside him

You’d continue this until he gets fed up

“You’re being very annoying today.” He’d say a few minutes before he rides you completely

He’d get so lost in the feeling of you filling him up he forgets about his work for the rest of the day

He’s not going to stop riding you until you beg for mercy

Prepare to have a sore dick the next day

Mammon

Finding Mammon is easy

But if you can’t find him, just text him a “I need you. Come here now.” And it doesn’t matter where he is, he’ll be there in 2 minutes flat.

You get straight to the point

You tell him to undress while you sit in his bed, watching him obey your command

You find it endearing

So you reward him by stuffing him full with your cock

“Look at you taking me so beautifully. So perfectly. Almost as if you were meant for this.”

Praise him but lightly degrade him if you want to reward him

But if you want to punish him? Don’t say anything and watch him squirm on your unmoving length

But it’s only a matter of time before you snap and can’t handle how hard he’s clenching you

Before you knew it, Mammon was on all fours getting pounded into his own mattress

You love the noises that come from his mouth so much you have to praise him for it

“Such a good boy. Taking me with such little effort. Such a good boy for me.”

Praise him and he’s spilling on the sheets while screaming your name

It’s long last an hour before you finish inside him

You love him so much you found it in you to clean up everything (and find a healing spell of some sort bc let’s be honest here. He’s ruined.)

When you’re done with aftercare, you pull the second eldest close to your chest and fall asleep until you wake up a few hours later to do it all over again

Mammon loves it when you do that

Leviathan

Levi lost a bet against you while playing a video game

He lost and now he has to face the consequences

Sitting on your cock while he plays a game with a few online friends

Oh, and open mic, too

“I might not be at my best this time, guys.” He’d say as the round starts bc he knows you aren’t letting him off easy

He lost, remember?

For the first game you’re completely content, but the second game you get a little more teasing

You start lightly rocking your hips upward and running your hand gently up and down his waist, sometimes squeezing

Each time you do, Levi tries to compose himself by sharply inhaling and keeping his voice down

The next couple games you’re now thrusting a couple inches inside him, enjoying the way he struggles to focus and keep quiet

The next few games you’re now kissing up and down his exposed back while still pumping the same two inches inside him at the slowest pace you could manage

It was starting to make him squirm under you and letting out small breaths and quiet whimpers

You both stay like this until his friends go offline and Levi crumbles as he switches to his demon form

He’d somehow turn around with you still inside him and start bouncing away

His tail comfortably wraps itself around your leg and his hands are on your chest

Each time Levi lowers himself, you raise your hips to meet him halfway

You hit his sweet spot every time

It’s only a small amount of time before he’s gone and spills over both of your chests

You flip him around and start pounding into him

A few thrusts later and you’re stroking yourself, shooting onto his balls

You both quickly recover and clean up before you play another game with him

Levi would be distracted the entire time as he replays what happened mere moments ago in his mind

He looses again

Satan

This nerd immediately knew what you were trying to do

So he wasted no time in tying you to his bed and siting comfortably down onto your length with a book in hand

You’re still inside him when he lays back against your chest while reading the rest of his book

He could spend hours just sitting on your dick and you’d be helpless just laying there, hard, inside him for hours on end

Eventually though, he’d get bored and turn his body around to face you, book placed down beside you

“I’m going to make you feel so good you will never want to leave.”

He’d say something so hot you twitch so violently inside him he squeaks quietly

You find it cute

But your little smirk turns into an open ‘O’ when Satan brutally starts bouncing

He’s slamming himself down so hard you’re moaning with him

He wouldn’t stop there either

He’d play with your nipples, pinching and licking them whenever he wants

It’s not a shocker when you’re the one unloading inside him first

Your mind gets so clouded with lust you start to raise your hips in time with Satan’s bounces but the demon wouldn’t allow it

He’d force your hips down and get even more rough, his ass jiggling from how much force he’s using

You cum a second time before Satan cums once

Taking advantage of Satan’s brief break, you take the moment to look down at yourself

Your chest is cover with bite marks and hickeys

The same goes for your stomach, except it’s now coated with Satan’s cum

You’re hard again inside him and Satan smirks

“I’m not stopping tonight. I’m going to put you in a wheelchair by morning.”

He wasn’t wrong

You could barely feel your legs and it felt like yo were missing your pelvis completely not to mention how sore your dick was

You’d wait awhile before attempting something like that again

Satan comes up with an idea to wear cat-themed lingerie next time

He’s sure you’d get a kick out if it

He’d have a blast showing it off to you before brutally riding you all night again

He’d accidentally rip the fabric of the lingerie and get sad

He was really happy with the look of it too

Oh well

He’ll buy another piece

Asmodeus

If you thought you’d be in control, you’re sorely mistaken

Similar to Satan, he’s tying you up to his bed

But he’s not just going to cockwarm you

He’s going to edge you beyond humanly possible

He’d start by rolling his hips in a circle before rolling them up and down

Then he’d wiggle his ass a little and delightfully watch you squirm under him

He repeats this more than enough times to start getting you to beg

He hears you but ignores you

He’s too busy with rolling his hips and sucking your nipples and cupping your balls

He’d pleasure you until you feel that knot in your stomach tighten

Then he’d lift himself off your dick and sit on it until you start pouting

Then he starts the process all over again

This time he starts touching himself

He strokes himself in time with his rolling and your moans and desperate cries for more

But he ignores you and says not until he’s climaxing on your chest

And so that’s exactly what happened

He moans your name and spills on your stomach, some shooting onto your face and chest

He licks his mess up before lifting himself off your cock and crawling backwards while still making eye contact with you

Before you know it, your cock is in his mouth as you’re face fucking him stupid

Your length reaches the back of his throat and he happily accepts it

Asmo’s throat game is god-tier

He knows when to swallow around you and when to use his tongue

It’s not long before you’re spilling everything you’ve built up down Asmo’s throat

Asmo smiles and licks his lips before undoing your bindings

“Let’s do that again sometime. I enjoyed it.”

Beelzebub

If Beel is going to cockwarm you, it’s with his mouth

You’ll most likely find him in his shared bedroom (alone most of the time considering Belphie doesn’t sleep in one spot too often)

You find him there and you lean against the door, watching him finish the last of his midnight snack

You smirk to yourself and muster up the most not-sexual tone you could manage

“Still hungry? I have a snack just for you if you are.”

You’d walk over to him and sit down on the bed and he’d look at you with a confused look

He looks adorable when he does that

You lean back with one arm supporting you and use your other to lift your shirt up and all Beel could do to respond was nod with a smile

And getting on his knees in between your legs

You both have done this a handful of times before, he knows you like it and he’s happy doing it for you (he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel aroused himself)

So Beel got to work immediately

Undoing your belt (if you have one on) and unzipping your pants to pull your hardening length out through the hole

Beel grabs the base of your shaft before licking your tip

It takes all your strength not to fuck his face

Then he engulfs your entire length in one go, down his throat

Your hand immediately finds is way to his hair and your hips start to grind against his throat

You can’t help but groan when he swallows around you

The warm wetness of his mouth combined with how skilled his tongue swirls around you send heatwaves throughout your loins

You get to full mast after a couple minutes of throbbing in Beel’s throat

By now you’re panting lightly and running your hand through his orange locks

“You’re so good at this, Beel. Oh Shit. Can I?” You’d ask him and he’d hum around you, giving permission

Then, next thing you know you’re holding his head with both hands as you fuck his throat

Surprisingly, no matter how hard you go, he never chokes or coughs

He just swallows all of you

And the thought of that is what sends you over the edge and you’re unloading down his throat

You collapse on the bed behind you

Beel will patiently wait for you to recover before you sit back up again and kiss him

You cup both of his cheeks with your hands and kiss him with such fever it almost felt like a desire. A desperate need

You pull away and grin

“My turn, babe.”

Belphegor

Belphie loves to cockwarm you

It doesn’t take up too much energy and he doesn’t have to do much

You two are normally cuddling when this happens

You spoon him as you two nap on his bed, still inside him

Usually, quite surprisingly, Belphie is the one to wake up first

And being the little shit he is, he loves to mess with you

So he’ll start slowly rocking his hips back against you to wake you up

Once you are awake, you hold him closer to you

“You’re being naughty today, Belphie.”

So you start rocking your own hips against him as you reach around and cup his balls with your hand

Belphie makes little, quiet sounds as you tease him

“So full, love. We’re you having a nice dream?”

You start to whisper dirty things in his ear and he starts to moan more freely, albeit quiet

You still love to here his voice

While still cupping his balls with your hand, you use your other one to stroke him

You stroke at a painfully slow pace, making Belphie thrust himself lightly into your hand and back against your cock

You start leaving kisses on his neck and shoulder, sometimes biting

Over time, you slowly start to increase your stroking pace and thrust speed

The combined pleasure from your cock and you stroking him soon sends him into his climax, spilling onto your hand and the sheets below him

You soon quickly finish off as you pick up your pace thrusting inside him

When you pull out of him, you turn him to face you and you kiss him

“You did wonderful, love. Like always.”

You smile and kiss him again

“So did you.”

Belphie’s words made you feel butterflies in your stomach

He was so cute

It almost makes you want to smother him with kisses

Oh wait

You can

And you do

You kiss him until both of your lips are numb

“I love you, Belphie.”

“I love you, too.”

End.

A/N: Sorry if there’s any typo’s! This took me several days to make considering I didn’t have any motivation to continue working on it until now (and I don’t have the energy to revise and edit any of this). But it’s here and I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know if y’all want more or not. I’m always open for requests! I tried to keep everyone canon-accurate so I hope it is. Thanks for reading :)

[lemon-russ]

More lore for my insane porn.

Why am I doing this? Does human pet smut need a backstory? If there were a merciful god, wouldn't I be stopped? Some things are never answered. The important thing is I am having fun ✨

Mortarion x F!Reader (prequel 2? Part 3??)

Previous || Next

CW: None for this specific thing. Many for the first one. Many for the future of whatever this is.

TAGS (no one participated in the prayer circle to stop me so it continues): @sleepyfan-blog @undeaddream @scriberye @lisikk @moodymisty

“Go on, pick.”

Mortarion holds you out at arms length, pointing you at a display of items in colors you couldn’t name, so bright and varied it made your head start to swim.

“Pick?” You parrot, “pick… what? What are they?”

You hear a small huff behind you. “They’re toys. Weren’t you saying you were bored?”

It had been boring. After a week of toting you around, quizzing you on your world, crops, government systems, and various other minutia, you found out that your world did in fact have a ruler, unbeknownst to a simple farmer like yourself, and had happily agreed to join the imperium of man, as it was apparently called.

All Mortarion asked for in payment was you.

“You entertain me.” Was all he had offered as explanation.

And thus you had been stuck in his quarters for two weeks, losing your mind at the lack of work to do. You’d taken up trying to draw, but that only entertained so long. You tried to read, but you were barely literate in your own tongue, let alone what your master called “high gothic”. What use did a farmer have for reading? You’d tried to clean up, but there was barely anything in the room to tidy.

You refocus on the colorful display, reaching out to touch one of the bright objects. ”It’s really soft...” You say, picking up one of the toys. It vaguely looks like some sort of animal, furry with stylized ears, but beyond that you can’t imagine a use for the thing.

“How is it a toy?” You ask, turning to try and look at your new masters face over your shoulder.

He frowns slightly. “What were toys on your planet?”

“Wooden blocks, mostly. Or the Hoop game.” You say, then add with a fond smile, “and dolls, made of water-reeds.”

He sighs. “Well, think of these as the… reed dolls. They are stuffed animals, you’re supposed to find them pleasant.”

You look back to the unnaturally bright creature in your hands. “what color is this?”

You yelp as you are dropped to your feet, stumbling a little.

Mortarion turns you around by the shoulder, face grimacing in disbelief. “I don't enjoy being teased.” He huffs.

You frown. “What-”

“You know purple.” He snaps, but it sounds less angry and more desperate. “You cannot tell me you don't know the color purple.”

You look at the thing in your hands. If you absolutely had to answer, life or death, what color it was, you'd only be able to say not red but not blue.

You look back up to see mortarion's face more stern. “your planet was quite brown and hazy, I suppose.” He said. “I can… understand that.” For a moment you see something flicker behind his gaze, but it is gone before you can guess it.

You tilt your head in a little confusion, intending to ask what he meant, but are turned back to the display instead. Mortarion leans over you to start pointing at the soft creatures.

“Purple.” He says, pointing at the one you held. “Pink, blue, orange…”

You pout. “I know blue-” you point at the pointy eared alien toy, “That's not blue. Blue has more grey in it.”

He sighs. “No, your rivers were not blue, they were just the only thing on that forsaken dirt ball that had a slight hint of blue in it. This is blue.” he says, picking up the bright, smiling creature and handing it to you.

Suddenly, you're being hoisted again, and tucked under the massive man's arm. “you're getting those two, I have chosen for you.” he grumbles. You think you catch him grumble something about doesn't know purple under his breath.

He forces you to pick out a blanket as well, as you'd been complaining about being chilly sleeping on the floor at night. That was true, but you more mean that it is a hard, metal floor, and wanted a bed. You had asked for some straw to weave yourself a proper mattress, but only got an annoyed look in response. He tossed you a pillow to sleep atop instead.

You chose a blanket in pink. You know pink too, but this one is an almost pastel, dusty version that you've never seen in nature. It was pleasant, and didn't hurt your eyes like the other new colors. Plus, it was quilted and full of feathers. He didn’t seem to mind buying something so lavish, so you figure you may as well be comfortable.

When you're finished shopping, Mortarion opens the large satchel he'd taken you out of his room in. You frown, looking up over the toys and blankets in your arms.

“Can't I just walk in…?” You ask.

He presses his mouth to a line. “No.”

You mimic the expression. “I promise I won't try to run again…” you say, referring to the ill fated attempt you'd made to avoid going into the belly of the flying beast when he'd first taken you.

He rolls his eyes. “No. In. And be quiet. I don't want my sons to see you.”

You sigh, shuffling up to the large bag and tossing your new toys inside first. “Can't you just tell them I am some sort of field hand?”

He shakes the bag opening at you. “No. We don't have those, and I don't want them getting strange ideas. In.”

“Stranger than this…?” You mumble to yourself as you crawl into the bag, curling up and situating yourself.

He peers down at you through the opening. “Don't talk back. And there's nothing strange about having a….” He glances away and back quickly, frowning. “A personal serf.”

Your scrunch your brow. “Serf…? But I don't do anything-”

Your words are cut off as he cinches the bag closed and hoists you up, making you squeak in surprise and have to scramble to reposition yourself where you can breathe.

“I said, don't talk back.” He grumbles, setting off on a quick pace that makes you jostle and swing as he walks.

[noirsdoll]

hum..hii, im kinda shy to ask about it but huh hear me out about Daisuke non-con bestfriend!reader after she acted like a brat with him when he had a really bad day..i imagined more of an on earth/college au but if you prefer writing on a tulpar au im totally okay with it!! I just love daisuke sm and im tired of everyone writing him like a subby twink..💔 have a good day mwah :3

REAL!! death to twink!daisuke like being naive ≠ twink, naive just means he's a dumbass. I think abt how jimmy influences him in the game a lot… also a college au is so fun to think about omg this is so long

cw/tags: noncon, mentioned abuse and drugging (not by daisuke), incel!daisuke and perv!daisuke, daisuke is a porn addict, accidental creampie, college au, daisuke is jimmy-pilled, vivziepop levels of swearing LMAO

Daisuke isn’t a bad guy.

In fact, he’s the shoulder to cry on, the ray of sunshine, and the hopeless but very enthusiastic tutor. That’s his reputation on campus— the nice guy that you can come to with anything, who’s always ready and willing to strike up a conversation.

You’re his closest friend, the first person that bothered to look his way on this sprawling campus. He’s stuck to you like an unfortunate parasite and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re both inseparable.

Daisuke and you are sitting on the grass outside one of the faculty buildings during the one break you both share. He’s staring up at the partly cloudy sky, letting the cold spring air run flush against his skin.

“Did you hear what happened at the big party last night?” You ask, too eager to wait for a response before you continue, “that Jimmy guy, like, roofied some poor girl.”

He glances at you, confused. “Jimmy? Nah, he’s not like that.”

“What, you know him?”

Daisuke talks to the older years fairly often. Jimmy’s one of the cooler ones— meaning he has a motorcycle and he let Daisuke take it for a spin once. So at least the guy’s not all bad. A nine on the Daisuke Friend Scale. You’re the ten, of course.

He just shrugs. “We’ve talked once or twice, yeah. But there’s no way he— are you sure?”

Your expression falters. “Uh, yeah, he did. There’s bruises and everything.”

“Some girls like that sort of thing.” Jimmy explained it all to him— the right way to choke, how to leave bruises that stung but faded quick, not to mention to always go for girls with uncovered drinks because it showed their open body language.

You frown and change the subject, but Daisuke’s still dwelling on it. Asking Jimmy about it later proves that he’s even better at shifting gears— he just dangles his keys in front of Daisuke’s eyes and suddenly Daisuke’s more than content to stop pressing.

There’s no way you’re telling the truth. A guy like Jimmy doesn’t need to do all that to fuck a girl. She must’ve just gotten more than she bargained for. 

Sure, Daisuke’s never actually done it before, it being sex, but he’s watched more than enough porn to figure it out. Girls in porn always seem to look like they enjoy it, they moan and cream and squirt as they get their asses and faces slapped red. 

Daisuke would probably get more play if he wasn’t such a nice guy. Jimmy has that bad boy persona going for him, Daisuke just gets friendzoned. Knowingly or not, he starts to learn from Jimmy.

That’s what he’s thinking about while at this party. He’s been unable to peel himself away from all the people that want to talk to him, it’s a miracle that he breaks out of the crowd long enough to get to you. You’re hugging the wall, no one to talk to but him. You don’t make friends very easily and Daisuke’s more than willing to fill in the gaps.

You offer a smile, a half-full solo cup dangling from one hand. Daisuke has to pause when you lock eyes. That dress makes you look like sin, he has to pick up his jaw from where he dropped it. Sure you’re both just friends, but Jimmy said that girls become friends with guys because they like them— and you seem to like him enough.

His pick-up lines and plans of attack all fade away the closer he gets to you, until all that’s rattling around in his head is the thought of you. What you’re wearing under that dress, what position is your favourite— normal things to be thinking about your best friend.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asks, tugging on his collar.

Daisuke watches your shoulders settle, the anxiety sweeped away. “Thought you’d never ask,” you grin, downing the rest of the drink and taking his hand.

Instead of guiding you back to his extremely unsexy Jeep, he takes you deeper into the house, away from the mass of milling party-goers and towards an empty bedroom.

“Uh, Daisuke, where are we going?” You chuckle nervously.

He glances over at you. “Just getting some privacy.”

“Okay.” You say, not much else on your mind as you take a seat on the bed together.

You flop down against the mattress, laying sideways along the bed. You must not notice how your dress is riding up and Daisuke doesn’t have the heart to comment on it. Are you like those porn girls? Are you?

Your hand moves into his field of view as you tug your dress down and sit up. Fuck, you caught him. You lean closer, enough to pillow your cheek on his shoulder. “...Daisuke? What’s up with you? You’ve been acting weird all night.”

“Ah, I dunno. Guess I’ve just got a lot on my plate.” 

“Yeah? What are you thinking about?”

He looks at you, his eyes dragging down, down, all the way to your tits. Daisuke glances back up. “I uh, like you.”

You blink at him, the silence feels deafening. Daisuke’s brain catches up with his words and he starts to panic. Floundering, he leans in and kisses you.

Your hands brace on his chest and you make a confused noise. He just crowds you against the mattress, feeling his dick growing unbearably hard. He pulls back, blood pounding in his ears. Holy shit. He can’t believe he just did that.

You let out a shaky breath, blinking at him. “I don’t think I like you like that, Daisuke. I like us as friends, you know?”

Yeah, he knows. He was hoping something would change. His hand slides up your calf to your knee, pushing your legs apart to allow him between them. “Just once? Can we… just once?”

“What? No, Daisuke, I just said—”

“I deserve it.”

“Excuse me?” Your chest rises and falls heavier. You’re scared.

What would Jimmy say? What would he do? How does Daisuke course correct? “You’re just so beautiful. I want to touch you.” Shit, he sounds like a fucking creep.

You sit up on your elbows, moving to get up. “You’re drunk or something. Let me get you some water.”

He needs to take control of this situation. Daisuke plants his arms on either side of you, one hand lifting to cup your pussy through your underwear. You freeze, looking up at him. “I won’t hurt you. Just let me–”

“I am not letting you have shit! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You try to weasel away from him, but he still tugs your underwear down in the struggle of flailing legs.

This is his chance. He’s already fucked up the friendship, what’s the worst thing that can happen next? Your underwear has a little wet spot in the center. Maybe you do want him— you just can’t admit it.

Daisuke can’t help himself, pressing his body to yours, his hand slipping through your pussy lips as you wriggle and squirm. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispers, sliding down his pants and pressing his cock into you.

You grit your teeth. “God, Daisuke, what the fuck?” You’re crying, looking up at him with your eyes full of betrayal.

But he’s in his own world now. “You’re so pretty. So pretty. Needed to put my dick in you– fuck—,” he gasps, his hips pressing flush to yours. 

It’s so much better than how he could have ever imagined pussy ever feeling. How do those guys in porn not bust immediately? You’re wet and warm, squeezing him tight in the midst of your panic.

“Daisuke, please,” you beg, voice shaking with each thrust into you. In a different context— the one Daisuke’s imagining— it would have turned him on. You want him. You’ve always wanted him.

If he was ever listening over the course of your friendship, he’s definitely not now. He buries his face in your shoulder, moaning airy praises as he fucks into you like a dog. Shallow, abrupt thrusts as he tries and fails to get used to the stimulation.

Lucky for you, it hardly lasts more than a couple of minutes before his dick slides out of you, cum-covered. He watches the added realization wash over your face.

“Daisuke, fuck, please tell me you didn’t—” You scramble back, the creampie leaking out of you and staining the sheets. All the evidence you need of what he’s done to you.

He tries to get closer. “I’m sorry, shit, I— What can I do—?” 

“Don't come near me," you spit and Daisuke knows the friendship is well past over.

He’ll still dream about you, fuck his fist to you. You can’t stop him from doing that.

[thydungeongal]

https://www.tumblr.com/thydungeongal/769949043465093120/i-often-see-this-when-people-air-out-their

What do “dramatic, personal stakes” look like in tabletop gaming? What games center them in their mechanics and how?

Alright, so there are lots and lots of games out there that do this in very different ways, so this is going to be a very long and meandering answer.

Starting with the most "trad" example, Pendragon, the game of playing knights in Arthurian Britain that freely mixes history and myth, is for the most part a very traditional adventure game, but it also introduced the idea of Passions and Personality Traits to give mechanical heft to characterization. These are effectively measured on the same 1 to 20 scale as regular skills and attributes in the game, meaning that they can be "tested" just like skills, but they also have the potential for putting the player character into trouble. A character with the "Hates Saxons" Passion will have their hate actually manifest in play, whereas a character who is high in Lustful and low in Chaste will find themselves entangled in lots of romantic drama. Character personality will thus actually have concrete game mechanical effects. The Passions system has since been ported into more recent editions of RuneQuest and its descendants, including Mythras.

Fate is a more modern indie RPG that is less concerned with measuring out Exact Statistics and more about modeling narrative convention. Fate characters are, more so than their skills, basically defined by their Aspects, which are effectively narrative tags that define How a character should behave in a story and What sort of stuff should be happening to them. Aspects can be invoked (using Fate points, the game's main meta currency that the whole game operates on) for bonuses on actions that relate to that tag, but they can also be compelled to put the character into trouble in a way that makes sense for their Aspect, thus granting the player a Fate point if they accept the compel. Aspects are pretty much at the core of Fate and they are utilized for much more than just characterization: new temporary aspects can be created on the fly to represent things in the environment, aspects can be used to represent things in the world and the wider narrative, injuries and consequences of losing conflicts are effectively temporary aspects, and so on. This way the game is largely one where the meta resource management game ties heavily into things that matter in the fiction.

Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy (by @anim-ttrpgs) is another very trad RPG and a game that is very much a "going on an adventure" game (but the adventure is a mystery that needs to be investigated), but the game adds a bit of extra mechanical heft to characterization of make it clear that the game is about regular people investigating mysteries: the Trait system is one of the most important mechanical dials for character customization and Traits are effectively packaged options with both benefits and drawbacks, and those mechanical effects also inform characterization very heavily; Truths are unique to each investigator and are something I would compare to Fate's Aspects but much more precise and personal and less meta, giving investigators minor bonuses on actions in a scene when they are acting according to their Truth; and finally, Tiers of Fear, which are also very personal to each investigator, define how an investigator reacts to various fear stimuli that exist in the world and thus also heavily intersect with the game's Composure mechanic. All of these mechanics interact with an investigative game with a very clear intended gameplay experience to further influence characterization and add personal stakes into the narrative.

Getting back to the more avant garde, Chuubo's Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine is a game that I still struggle to wrap my head around because it's a game for smart people, but as far as I have understood: the gameplay largely revolves around player characters choosing personal goals called Arcs which are further divided into Quests; each Quest is defined as a number of experience points that must be accrued towards the quest for it to be completed, as well as specific actions that characters can do to gain bonus experience on those quests, and then you basically just. Let your characters loose on quests. The important thing is that while quests can be shared among a group (for a more traditional "Group of Heroes Going on an Adventure" narrative, which Chuubo's does also support) they are also personal (so each character will have their own personal quests they will be working towards) and asynchronous (a character may pick up multiple quests over their arc and not complete them in the same order as they started them, as some will be shorter diversions on the path towards victory). Again, this is a very broad-strokes, top-down view of how the game works, because it is a very heady game that I have yet to wrap my head around. If any Chuubo's fans notice any egregious omissions or mistakes here, please let me know.

Finally I'll finish with something a bit broader, the World of Darkness "series" of games, while not having anything quite as in-depth as personality mechanics, do all have various mechanical frameworks for tying characterization into gameplay: the Classic World of Darkness games had their Archetypes, effectively defining a broad personality archetype that the character needs to act according to in order to regain Willpower; the Chronicles of Darkness games have Vices and Virtues, with characters having one of each, once again defining how they regain Willpower; and I'm sure the newer Paradox White Wolf titles also have something to that effect as well. Basically, little carrots dangled in front of player characters to encourage characterization and acting according to a specific archetype. It's neat!