#and like. i don't know that rise would have taken things the direction i would have wanted to see them go or handled everything perfectly

[bambiraptorx]

What is your opinion on the mystical magenta goat man? (Draxum)

Good dad? Deserved more screentime/emotional moments with the bois? (they gave us like 2 moments like that in the finale, and I'm sad that it's all we got)

owo

Ooh, I have so many thoughts about Draxum. Buckle up.

First of all, it's worst mentioning that when I started watching Rise, I knew ahead of time that he would get a redemption arc. (Reading the wiki and watching clips/analysis videos is what got me interested in the show, after all.) So admittedly, my view of how his redemption arc went was a little skewed just because I knew from the start that it would happen.

Personally, I wish more of it had been actually shown in the show. We get about ten seconds of him helpless in an alley then a hard cut to him in his apartment being bullied by Mikey, and I would love to see how that series of events played out. Also, his arc from mortal enemy to somewhat trusted by the turtles happened in one eleven minute episode, and I would have loved to see that tension be played with a little more. I do understand that the show was cut short, though, and I'm pretty happy with what we did get.

*looks at all my fics* honestly, I think part of the reason that they're all more or less about Draxum spending time with the turtles one way or another is because that dynamic was so underdeveloped and several things went unaddressed in order to give the show a decently cohesive finale.

For example, the roof incident. Leo is clearly very bitter about it and clearly mistrusts Draxum because of it, but the show just didn't have the opportunity to address it. Another issue that had to go unresolved was Draxum's relationship to Cassandra, because she seriously looked up to/trusted him in their episode together but he more or less threw her under the bus.

Not to mention all the little things that canon hints at but doesn't show. Like, somehow Donnie has Draxum's phone number, meaning they had at least one conversation off screen. How did that happen? Do they hang out or something? And really, the whole story of how Mikey got Draxum to move into an apartment and let him come over is so unexplored, at least within the show.

And speaking of things that canon doesn't show, I find Draxum's position among yokai to be absolutely fascinating, especially given that the only yokai he deals with in the show itself are antagonists to him (Big Mama, the Council of Heads, the cops) aside from the gargoyles.

There's a pretty big hole there about how he interacted with the rest of the Hidden CIty-- did he have friends? DId people know about his research and mutations? What did people think about him? And obviously the narrative doesn't address this because the story is about the turtles, not him. But still.

And why did he choose to create mutants in the first place? Its fascinating that the prophecy that motivates him is never actually shown in the show itself, just referenced. Why was mutating humans the best option to him? Did he try other things? When exactly did the Council tell him not to create warriors?

The timeline is pretty fuzzy, and frankly Draxum's motives aren't actually all that clear. That's probably why there's so many different interpretations of why he's doing what he's doing (and what, exactly, he's actually doing) throughout the fandom-- canon doesn't address it super deeply.

So yeah, his relationships with the turtles are really fun to think about and mess around with, but the gaps in the narrative (not a perfect phrase but the general idea) around him are fascinating to explore in their own right. And whether canon would have explored him more or not, I think its fun so I'm gonna do it lol. I have built so much lore about this man (almost none of which has showed up in my stories) because he's fun.

And he is genuinely a fun character, whether pre or post redemption. He's dramatic, he's arrogant, he makes bad quips (seriously, he has a line about "how very NOT NICE to see you" at one point, and that's how my sister used to talk before she figured out how to actually be sarcastic). He, the big bad of season one, ends up as a lunch lady at one point, which is frankly absurd and absolutely in tone for the kind of show that Rise is. He's a powerhouse at times and completely out of his element at others.

And once he's no longer actively fighting the turtles most of his screen time, there's a goofiness to the nature of his character, a powerful alchemist/warrior trying to live a normal life (mostly because a thirteen year old will yell at him otherwise) and not even trying that hard. Season 2 especially does a lot of fun things with his character, and I only wish that they're been able to do more.

TLDR: Draxum is probably my favorite character, and also I want to hit him with the hammer of 'forced to deal with teenagers'.

[slytherinslut0]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Twenty Five-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

Tags: 18+, Dirty Talk, Threats of Violence, Jealousy, Toxic Behaviours, Possessive Behaviours, Mentions of GunPoint (enchanted gun but still), Italian, Flirty!Theodore!Nott, Angst, Sexual Tension.

FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

"I don't know about this, Em..."

Giggles danced through the air, originating from your blonde companion, currently immersed in a thorough investigation of your shared closet. Her voice, laced with amusement, murmured something indecipherable, the words muffled by the solidity of the wooden door. A long sigh escaped your lips, a potent release of pure exasperation.

"This is crazy," you muttered to yourself. "Nott is going to need an entire bloody medical team when he catches sight of me..."

The enchanting red dress, a gem sourced from a privy boutique in Hogsmeade under Mattheo's explicit direction, molded itself to every contour as you confronted your reflection in the mirror. As your eyes traversed the fabric's journey, or rather, the lack thereof--there was no escaping the undeniable truth; the dress was exquisitely tight, sparing no nuance of your silhouette to the imagination.

"Doubt he'll even get the chance..." Emily replied, finally reemerging from the closet, "lover boy will likely claim his head the moment he fixes his gaze on you for too long."

Emily's cheeky response added a layer of playful anticipation to the charged atmosphere, earning an exaggerated eye roll from you in response as you fought hard to suppress your smirk.

When you'd embarked on the hunt for the ideal dress, you had brought Emily along for her valuable opinion. As your gaze fell upon this specific piece, uncertainty gripped you, convinced it might be a touch excessive. Yet, Emily staunchly opposed that notion. Her unwavering belief in its perfection became a contagion, subjecting you to prolonged minutes of relentless persuasion. Gradually, her infectious enthusiasm chipped away at your resistance until, inevitably, you succumbed--reluctantly handing over Mattheo's gifted galleons.

"And do I truly wish to burden my conscience with the death of the schools most popular Italian playboy? And not to mention Riddle's certain Azkaban sentence...all but a couple months from graduation?" you deadpanned, fingers instinctively rising to massage your temples in an attempt to alleviate the burgeoning headache. "Maybe I should just borrow something from your-"

"Absolutely not," Emily interjected, her voice cutting through your proposal with firm decisiveness. She approached you, a sparkle in her eyes, and added, "you look perfect. Trust me on this."

Meeting your eyes in the mirror, Emily's irises shimmered with a warm reassurance. She adjusted her flowy emerald green dress, a garment she had acquired at Tom's request--they were going to the masquerade together, though the status of their relationship still remained uncertain.

Emily, ever the advocate of going with the flow, a concept apparently foreign to Tom, said she wasn't in any rush to make things official, understanding that perhaps it would look a tad bit odd for him to start dating her after he'd just paraded you around to all of his friends, merely less than a few weeks go.

And as a result of this, you and Emily had a long, in depth heart-to-heart conversation where you made sure to unravel any lingering issues--the liberating honesty and the comfort of having someone in your corner again felt tangible. Although initially perturbed by the extended secrecy, Emily eventually grasped the rationale behind your discretion, acknowledging the protective measures taken for yourself and your desired career.

The depth of your longstanding friendship played a pivotal role in fostering this understanding, and you'd never been more thankful to have such a wonderful, supportive friend in your life.

"What do you think Michael will do when he spots you wearing traitor colours?" you teased, an impish grin playing on your lips as you watched Emily fix her long blonde hair, adjusting herself in the reflection.

"I reckon he'll be rather unamused," she snorted, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "But he'll be in for a real surprise when he sees you cozying up with Theodore Nott, the traitor extraordinaire."

"Cozying up with Theodore?" you retorted with a smirk, feigning innocence. "Absolutely not, I just recently cleared my conscience, I intend on keeping it that way."

"I wouldn't underestimate the Italian playboy; word on the street is he can be quite insistent..." Emily spun back around to face you, a cheeky smile playing on her lips. "My suggestion is that you tell him about Mattheo before he unwittingly finds himself sharing a bed with Berkshire."

Your expression sank, and a twist formed in your stomach. "Oh, gods, Emily, I need to change," you exclaimed, spinning around and making a beeline for the closet. "Surely there's a garbage bag or your grandmas old moo-moo hidden in here that I could wear instead, right?"

Emily's sudden snort echoed through the room, reverberating far louder than you'd expected. With swift precision, she wielded her wand, slamming the closet door shut before you could reach it.

"Come on, it's going to be fun," she teased, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. "Give those cocky Slytherin boys an experience they've never had before. Making them squirm is a rare opportunity--after all, they're not used to being denied anything."

You hesitated, a reluctant smile crawling across your face at her words as you silently considered the prospect. Mattheo had always made it abundantly clear that girls were typically within arm's reach for him, and he could have anyone he desired. The idea of driving him to the brink tonight, knowing he couldn't do a thing about it after explicitly instructing Theodore to ask you, ignited a rebellious spark within you.

"Alright, but this better not turn into a disaster," you responded, your internal thoughts dancing between uncertainty and a subtle thrill. "If the mafia comes after me because I smacked their most prized possession, I'm blaming you."

"You look fucking hot. Own it," she encouraged, a playful smile dancing on her lips. Turning her attention to the door, a sudden realization struck her. "I've got to run. Promised Michael I'd help him with his bloody tie--but don't forget to check the mail. Something arrived for you earlier."

With a swift goodbye, she whisked away, grabbing her matching emerald green eye mask, leaving you to contemplate the mysterious package. Not one to dawdle, you approached the table by the door, spotting a small brown box with your name inscribed on it.

With eager anticipation, you unwrapped the package, unveiling a stunningly bejeweled red mask. A note accompanied the alluring accessory, bearing the cryptic message:

"Something about me, I fucking hate the colour yellow."

A smirk played on your lips as you extracted the exquisite gift from its velvet cradle. The crimson mask lay in your hands, a stunning creation adorned with gemstones that caught and reflected the light with each subtle movement. Blush flooded your cheeks as you approached the mirror, slipping the mask on. Turning your head in every direction, you marveled at the way it enhanced your features, making you feel like a mysterious enchantress.

The beauty of the mask was beyond words, and even though the logical part of you knew it had to be from Mattheo, the sheer magnificence of the gift made it feel almost surreal.

After what felt like an eternity lost in the mirror, admiring the stunning mask, the realization hit that you needed to meet Theodore. He'd mentioned waiting for you at the entrance to your common room, so as swiftly as possible, you adjusted your dress, attempting to cover up your chest, and gracefully slipped out of your room, navigating the familiar halls with a sense of purpose.

The chilled corridor welcomed you as you emerged, and after a brief moment of searching, there, like an awakening spell, you spotted Theo--and your stomach nearly leapt into your chest at the sight of him.

"Holy shit, Nott...are you...are you actually wearing enemy colors?" Your jaw dropped as you beheld Theodore in a Ravenclaw blue suit, a sight you'd never expected in a million years. "Hold still, I need to take a bloody picture of this."

Theo's arrogant response came with a sly smirk, his dark eyes tracing hungrily over your figure. He stood before you in a pristine suit, accompanied by matching vest, and a crisp white dress shirt underneath. The ensemble was adorned with exquisite gold links and buttons, showcasing his impeccable taste. His confident demeanour suggested that he indeed cleaned up more than nicely, and this was only a slight indication of his professionalism.

"Sure, have your laughs," he quipped, an arrogant smirk playing on his lips. His eyes moved deliberately, scanning the curves of your figure. "Enjoy the view while it lasts, little bird. This suit's debut is a one-time thing—I might just set it ablaze once the night is over."

"Well you certainly know how to make a girl feel special, don't you?..." you teased, grin stretching past your ears as you took another step closer. "How honoured I am to accompany you in this suits first and only outing."

"Your wit is far too sharp for a Ravenclaw," Theo huffed in amusement, his stormy eyes glistening behind his dark blue mask. "You look properly fucking flaming by the way...do pardon my French."

You snorted, gracefully taking his arm as he offered it, intertwining yours around his. "French? I was under the impression you were Italian, Signor Nott."

"You speak it?" Theo raised an intrigued eyebrow, briefly glancing down at you as the two of you strolled towards the ballroom.

"Partially," you replied, a playful glint in your eye, your attention split between the conversation and the challenge of navigating gracefully in your black heels. Each step resonated with a confident clack on the school floors. "I dabble in a multitude of tongues...a side effect of an inquisitive mind."

"Is that so?" he said, pure intrigue in his tone. "Talk to me in Italian then,"

"Are you serious?" You snorted, far louder than you'd intended, waiting for him to say he was joking. He simply looked down at you, eyes locked on yours behind the mysterious mask.

"Absolutely serious," Theo chuckled, the breathy tones dancing in the air, a subtle spark of challenge in his eyes. "A little ball of knowledge, huh? Prove it."

A warm flush crept up your cheeks as you stifled your laughter. Theo had a charm of his own, a natural way of drawing people in much like Mattheo, although the troublemaking wizard had a slightly more breathtaking allure with those dark, intoxicating eyes and that unruly mop of chocolate curls. It wasn't a shortcoming on Theo's part--it was simply the irreplaceable magnetism that Mattheo possessed, but you couldn't deny the way Nott was making you feel.

"Alright, you want me to put my money where my mouth is, I respect that." You teased, clearing your throat as you pondered an Italian phrase that might leave an impression. After a brief moment of contemplation, it dawned on you. "Non c'è rosa senza spine."

(There is no rose without thorns.)

"Buona scelta," he replied with a smirk, his tone holding an air of both appreciation and subtle challenge. "Sei più astuta di quanto pensassi."

(Good choice; you’re more clever than I thought.)

"You underestimate me, Nott," you chuckled, a surge of pride coursing through you. "Consider that your first mistake."

"You know, the more I get to know you, the larger my desire to figure you out becomes,” he said, dropping his tone into a husky whisper as the two of you turned a corner. "You are...intriguing."

It was at this moment, as the two of you entered into the bustling main hall, that you were extremely thankful this event was a masquerade. The mask provided a welcome veil of anonymity, shielding you from the prying gazes that threatened to make you uneasy. It seemed you were blending seamlessly into Theo's arm, a part of the enigmatic allure rather than a subject of scrutiny.

"You couldn't figure me out in a million years," you retorted, a sharp edge to your tone, the corners of your lips subtly playing with a hint of a smirk. "Better men have tried."

Theo, as expected, didn't like that response. "Don't tempt me, little bird...I will make it my life's mission."

You rolled your eyes, chewing on your cheek. "You're far too sure of yourself, Theodore."

"Look at that, Bella...you're already using my first name," he quipped, smirking. "I'm making progress without even trying."

You fought the urge to smack him, your eyes narrowing in a playful challenge. "To know me, Signor Nott, I'll put you through hell...just ask Riddle, he can certainly attest."

"Mm, thats precisely the thing, little bird..." he said, his smirk holding a touch of intrigue. "Riddle's a closed book when it comes to you. Doesn't spill a damn thing, makes me wonder what secrets the two of you are hiding.”

"Quite a conspiracy, I'd say," you chuckled, relishing the light banter between you two as the distant sounds of music and laughter from the ballroom grew louder. With a nod and a playful smile, you gestured toward the entrance. "Shall we?"

Theo nodded, a playful glint in his eyes, as he released your arm and extended a hand to the small of your back, ushering you forward. "After you, milady"

Upon crossing the threshold into the ballroom, a breathtaking scene unfolded before your eyes. The room was adorned with vibrant spring decorations, an enchanting celebration marking the approaching end of the term. The fragrance of fresh flowers wafted through the air, and the soft glow of enchanted lanterns bathed the room in a warm, golden radiance. Hogwarts students from all years, dressed in their finest attire, wore a dazzling array of masks, each one a unique work of art.

As your eyes darted around the room, the search for familiar faces led you to a moment of anticipation. The diversity of masks, ranging from intricate designs to whimsical shapes, made it challenging to discern familiar faces.

Finally, your gaze landed on the only man you'd ever go out of your way to search for, his distinctive chocolate curls drawing your attention like a magnet amidst the sea of masked enchantment. The mere fucking sight of him, cloaked in newfound sophistication, sent a thrilling pulse through your veins, awakening sensations in your body that you were unprepared to face.

He stood there, like a fucking silhouette of elegance, adorned entirely in black--black mask, black suit pants, a sleek black dress shirt, and a finely tailored black suit vest. The only splash of colour adorned him in the form of a satin red tie, perfectly mirroring the shade of your dress. The entirety of your being froze in place, your throat resembling a parched desert, the sole reminder to keep moving coming from the steady pressure of Theo's hand on your back, coaxing you forward through the enchanting crowd.

As the two of you veered closer to them, the tension in your body was almost painful. Truth be told, it wasn't the singular presence of Mattheo that set your heart racing like a high-performance sports car on race day--oh, no, the true accelerant was his fucking date. The very girl from the washroom, the one you had directed him to accompany, and the vibrant colour of her long, flowing dress:

Yellow.

"Riddle, Malfoy," Theo uttered, initiating a firm handshake with each of his Slytherin comrades as they exchanged greetings. "Parkinson, Lanalock."

"Nott," Parkinson remarked, a smile gracing her features. "Never expected to see you in blue. You could easily pass for a Ravenclaw, you know."

Theo's response carried a touch of cunning arrogance, sneaking you a glance. "A choice made with utmost consideration, you might say."

In the midst of the social dance, your gaze and Mattheo's remained locked, an unbroken connection that felt more like a silent conversation than a mere exchange of glances. The unspoken tension between you two hung thick, and in that charged moment, it was uncertain if either of you had even blinked. Your heart pounded not only in your throat but also seemingly echoed in another, more intimate part of you as well.

Mattheo had never looked more fucking captivating, and the longing for him intensified by the millions--that merciless irresistible force effortlessly working to pull you closer.

Just as the tension threatened to become all-encompassing, Professor Dumbledore's voice reverberated over the lively chatter, his warm tone weaving through the air.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the enchanting Spring Masquerade. I hope the magic of the night unfolds to your desires. Now, if you would kindly make your way to the dance floor, we are about to commence the first slow dance of the evening. So, let the celebration begin."

The resonance of Dumbledore's voice snapped you from Mattheo's visual captivity, prompting a few deliberate blinks and an expelled breath laden with tension. Theo, with a gentle glance, took your hand, guiding the group to choose spots on the dance floor directly adjacent to one another. It required every fiber of your being not to steal a glance at Mattheo, aware that the mere sight of him holding another girl would induce a wave of nausea within you.

Your attention became an exclusive affair with Theo. As he placed his hands on your hips, his grip was tender, a sensation entirely distinct from anything you'd experienced with Mattheo. A sharp intake of breath accompanied the elevation of your arms, led your palms to find a gentle perch on Theo's shoulders. In the depths of his stormy blue eyes, you unintentionally delved, oblivious to the intensity of the eye contact you established--you were so lost in your own thoughts that a bomb could go off in this very room, and you were certain you wouldn't even flinch.

Then, Theo's voice broke the silence. "Little bird, are you alright?"

"Oh, yes," you blinked, your voice escaping your throat in a cracked whisper, as though each word were a struggle for breath. "And you?"

"More than," he quipped, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

Your watchful eyes tracked the journey of his gaze, starting from your eyes, sliding leisurely to your lips, lingering provocatively before venturing lower, dipping over your chest with a seductive grace before sinuously slithering back up. The subtle intimacy of the visual exploration ignited a warmth within you, and you glimpsed his lips, recalling Emily's advice from your dorm. Make these men squirm.

"Glad to hear it," you mused, a playful edge to your tone, your fingers tightening their grip on his shoulders as he delicately drew you closer. "Wouldn't want the Italian playboy to be anything other than alright."

His grip tightened perceptibly, the sensation almost tangible as if his nails could breach the delicate fabric of your dress. The room plunged into a soft dimness, signaling the beginning of the slow dance. The shift in atmosphere was unexpected, enough to make you jump slightly. For a fleeting moment, you locked eyes with Mattheo, finding his gaze fixed on you, his hands scarcely making contact with his date.

Hastily looking away, Theo's voice reached your ear, dangerously close, "Italian playboy, hmm? Is that what they're calling me these days?"

"Don't act like you weren't already aware," you chuckled softly, the resonance carrying a hint of mischief. "Though, I must say, the rumors might be onto something."

Theo smirked, his voice a low murmur tinged with arrogance. "Well, uccellino, despite the rumors, I assure you I am a proper gentleman..."

A sharp intake of breath caught in your throat as his nails dug deeper into the fabric of your dress, compelling you closer as the two of you gracefully swayed to the music.

"How gentle you are, indeed," you mumbled, chewing your lip as you met his gaze, the two of you dangerously close together.

Theo's gaze deepened, his lean frame bending down as his lips brushed against your ear. "I may be a gentleman, Bella," he murmured, the words a seductive whisper. "...but if you keep looking at me like that--with those big eyes, biting on your goddamn lip...we might just be fucking on the nearest surface I find."

Oh, no. This was bad. Your response stammered out before you could even think to stop it, panic flickering in your eyes.

"I-I, excuse me," you stuttered, hastily breaking away from the dance just as the song was nearing its end. The abrupt departure carried a mix of flustered embarrassment and a desperate need to collect yourself.

Seeking refuge, you maneuvered toward the drink table nestled in the far corner of the room. The dim light and distant chatter provided a momentary escape as you began to slam back drinks, attempting to drown the intensity of the encounter with Theo.

As the remnants of a calm facade settled within, a subtle shift in the atmosphere stirred your senses. A tingling awareness compelled you to glance over your shoulder, only to find yourself ensnared in the dark, intoxicating depths of Mattheo's eyes. A strange yet undeniable wave of relief washed over you, despite the fact that he stood looming directly behind, adopting the guise of casualness while pretending to grab a drink.

"Mattheo," you breathed his name, the syllables escaping your lips like a breathless sin, a recognition of the forbidden allure that surrounded him. "What are you doing?"

Mattheo's breath, a tantalizing whisper, brushed against the nape of your neck, setting your nerves ablaze. "I can't stand the way he's touching you, Raven...I can't even stand the way he's fucking looking at you..."

Your lungs seemed to stall. "This was your idea, Matty..."

"I'm well aware," he hissed, the energy radiating from him palpable in the charged air. "Fuck, you look so fucking sexy...you are so goddamn beautiful, you know that?"

"I'm not sure I do..." your heart melted, a subtle heat pulsating through your thighs. "I think I need you to tell me again."

"You are so, so fucking beautiful..." he muttered, his voice a deep husk, strained with lust as it left his throat. "You are the most captivating girl in this entire fucking room...I can't stop staring at you...I can't stop needing you..." you gasped as his hand grazed over your ass, subtly, but a feeling you'd never miss. "What do you think you're fucking doing to me, hm?"

You nibbled on your bottom lip, the flush of blood coloring your face. "At this moment...nowhere bloody close to enough."

Mattheo's voice, saturated with desire, responded, "You're absolutely right, princess...and I can't wait to have you all to myself, as soon as this dumb fucking dance is over."

A soft hum escaped you as your lids fluttered, reveling in the warmth of Mattheo's body behind you. "Unless Nott gets to me first..."

As though a switch had been flipped, Mattheo's hand seized your wrist with a subtle yet undeniable warning, a silent caution against uttering anything remotely similar again.

"Don't even joke about that, Raven," he growled, the intensity in his voice cutting through the air. "I swear to Salazar himself, what I did to Berkshire will pale in comparison to what I'll do to Nott."

"So jealous, Matty..." you purred, smirking as he slowly released your wrist. You couldn't deny that his possessive tendencies did something to you, however fucking insane they were. "So angry..."

"You like that, don't you?...dirty little slut..." you could practically hear the smirk on his perfect fucking lips, your entire body vibrating with need. "Keep tempting me, princess...I'll bend you over this table, fuck you in front of the whole fucking school...I'll point my gun at Notts fucking head and make him watch, on his knees in front of you as I fuck you stupid...how does that sound for jealous, hm?"

Breath eluded you, the sheer intensity threatening your consciousness. "Godric, help you..."

"Sorry, Raven, but the only help from above that I believe in is a sniper on a rooftop..." Mattheo's voice, a deep, honeyed drawl, slipped from his lips. "And just so you're aware, I know eighty different ways to kill a man--and I can make an easy seventy nine of them look like a bloody accident...understand?"

"Fuck..." your mind struggled to form coherent thoughts. It had been days since his last touch, and the way he spoke now made you crave him more than the very air you breathed. "I don't think I do...I think I need you to tell me again..."

"I've never been a jealous man, Raven..." Mattheo's gaze swept the surroundings, ensuring no lingering gazes were watching. Satisfied, he shifted slightly, his lips now at your other ear. "I've never envied someone for what they have or who they're with, and yet, I'm damn jealous of every asshole you smile at, everyone you openly converse with...I've never fucking wanted something that I couldn't have, a girl I couldn't get...so this, all of this...is fucking maddening."

Your lungs seemed to stall, a momentary freeze as if he'd submerged you into the heart of a raging inferno. A surge of warmth flooded through every fiber of your being, an intoxicating heat.

"I need you," your voice murmured, the words dripping with a desperate longing. "I need you in every fucking way imaginable..."

"Mm," Mattheo hummed, the warmth of his touch tracing the curve of your hip. "Such a delightfully dirty mouth for a princess..."

Feigning innocence, you lifted your gaze to meet his, a coy smile gracing your lips. "Perhaps...but even princesses have their secret pleasures, don't they, Matty?"

For a moment--a fleeting, beautiful fucking moment--your eyes locked, and it was in that secret realm, where slight smirks played on each of your lips, and the tension was fucking so thick that you could hardly breathe--where you both knew you've found what the whole fucking world was still carelessly searching for.

And it was there, that you knew--no man, no job, no fucking career could ever make you feel as happy and needed and treasured as Mattheo Riddle did. In his own, crazy, fucked up way.

Mattheo blinked. "Meet me in the washroom in forty minutes.”

—————————

Chapter 26->

[silent-stories]

𝐀 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader

Summary: when Astarion wakes up, you are still with him. And this is something new for him.

When Astarion opened his eyes, the first rays of the sun of a new day were softly touching his face, filtering through the tent where he had spent the night.

Instinctively he raised a hand with long, thin fingers to cover his eyes struck by the sudden light, then thought better of it.

He didn't want to spend another moment the way he'd spent the last two hundred of his life: hiding from the light, running away from it.

The sun was rising in the distance, coloring the camp in many shades of yellow and orange in a sight that Astarion had gone years without being able to admire like that.

He dropped his hand to his pillow, not yet getting up and let the rays kiss his pale skin like they hadn't in too long a time.

He had almost forgotten what it felt like, it was unsusual for him but it immediately made him feel a warm feeling that he would have liked to get used to.

When the light moved, he sat down with an almost disappointed expression on his face.

“You look like one of those cats that chases warm spots as the sun moves.”

His head snapped in the direction of your voice and he only realized then that you were still in his tent sitting a few steps away from him with a book in your hands.

That was another thing he wasn't remotely used to and it almost scared him every time you did it. Finding you still there in the morning, knowing that what you wanted wasn't just what happened between you two at night but also in daylight - in every meaning - was new and frightening for him, even if he wasn’t going to admit it so easily.

It wasn't the first time in the morning that he found you in his tent; usually we were still curled up next to his body, with your head on his chest or worse, with his head on your chest and his arms around you as if he didn't want to let you go either.

The thing that blew his mind this time, was not your sarcastic comment that he would usually have at least thirty ways to respond to, but was the fact that what you were wearing didn't belong to you.

You grinned. “Have I offended you so much that you have nothing to say?”

You closed the book you were reading and looked at him with a smirk. Astarion suppressed the urge to reach out and kiss you in a second.

"Maybe I don't want anything to do with thieves. I see that what you're wearing belongs to someone else, my dear."

You looked at the white shirt you had put on as if it were the first time you had seen it and you hadn't taken it from Astarion's tent.

“I couldn't find my stuff” You shrugged “your shirt was the first thing I found.”

Astarion stared at the way his clothes looked on you and found himself thinking that it was a scene he wanted to witness again and again, a scene more beautiful than the rising sun he hadn't seen for two centuries.

You stood up slowly, stretching. You probably hadn't been awake that long either.

He didn't know that you had seen the way the sun passed through his white hair, brightening the messy locks with a silver light that made you want to run your fingers through them for the rest of the day that had just begun. That when he was still asleep you wanted to sit next to him and make his sun-kissed lips meet yours.

“I suggest you find another shirt” You pointed at his bare chest with your finger, “I'm going to keep this one for a while. It smells like you.”

With those last words you left the tent with a light smile on your lips, leaving Astarion speechless once again.

He found himself thinking that feeling the sun on his skin wasn't the only nice, warm feeling he'd felt lately.

[ameliathornromance]

“Okay – I know what this looks like.” Your Orc Boyfriend held his hand out to you, defensively. His face was stained with soot, along with one or two of his fellow cooks, both shooting glares into the back of his head. “But I promise you, it was for a good cause.”

From behind himself, he pulled out a charred and burned mound of… something. Raising your eyebrow, you looked between him and the plate. You weren’t trying to be rude, really, but… for your life, you could not recognise what was on the plate in front of you.

Your Orc looked hopefully at you, but at your confused expression, he let out a sigh. His shoulders slumped, his head hung. “I knew your birthday was coming up.” He said, “and I was able to sort your presents. But then you started going on about cake… so I tried to make one and…”

Cake, to you, was one of the best things in the world. The problem was, every time you had tried to purchase a cake from a village or town since joining the Orc camp, it was always taken from you at the last moment. Sold out at the last moment in a bakery or - when you did finally get a hold of one - was knocked from your hands by accident from a clumsy Orc.

You felt it was wrong to just invade the Orc’s supplies and cooking stations to make your own, so you resigned yourself to a cakeless existence.

Your Orc Boyfriend, who had never had anything but meat for food, was intrigued by the pastry. “So, it’s like a sweet bread?” He asked you once you finished explaining the concept to him.

“I…” you hummed in thought, “I guess so? They’re easy to make, pretty much anyone can do it.” You sighed, “I wish I could have it for my birthday.” It was only two weeks away by this point, the thought of having such a costly present made your mouth water.

“Why specifically your birthday?” Your Orc asked, curiously.

“It’s a human tradition,” you explained. “You get presents too, but cake is more of a luxury for the common folk.”

After that conversation, you found your Orc evasive.

You knew his routine like the back of your hand; Every morning, he would get up at early dawn and then go out hunting. A couple hours later, he would return with game and crash for a nap in the afternoon. Then, he would rise for dinner and then stay up late to sharpen his weapons.

But for some reason, he would forgo his nap, extending his time out of the camp. The first time he did it, you assumed he was just trying to make sure he got all the game in the area and when you asked the others, they confirmed your suspicions.

You tried not to take much notice of it after that. Although the absence of your Orc began to worry you slightly. Was there someone who was forcing him to leave the camp? If he had been given extra work, he would have told you about it… Right?

Your worries continued until the morning of your birthday. A boom shuddered through the camp ground, causing you to jump up from your bed. Rushing out, fully prepared to defend the camp in case of an attack, only to find the rest of the camp roaring with laughter, their attention directed to the food tent.

Pushing your way through the Orcs, you found yourself standing at the entrance of the tent, Orc Boyfriend covered in soot and holding a smoking, charred lump on a plate.

You knew your Orc was not the best in the kitchen. This was why he was given hunting duties over being in the kitchen with the other Orcs… But you had no idea that it was this bad.

“We don't even know how you blew up the kitchen.” One of the Chef Orcs grunted. The crowd eventually dispersed and the Orcs returned back to their duties.

And so, those were the events that led up to this moment.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to make you happy.” Your Orc looked away from you, eyes downcast to the ground.

Your heart stung at his hurt expression. He really had tried, hadn’t he? Even if it had ended in a disaster. He really wanted to give you that cake huh?

Walking up to him, taking out a handkerchief, you wiped his face free of soot. He still didn’t look at you, as though he were ashamed by what had happened. Cupping his cheeks, you force him to look at you. “Thank you for trying.” You kissed his nose. “It’s the thought that counts.” And with that, you pecked him on the lips. “But, maybe I should be the one to do the kitchen work from now on.”

At that, a small smile overtook your Orc’s frown. “Yeah. That’s probably for the best.” And with that, the two of you made your way back to your tent and opened your gifts.

[sleeplesssmoll]

I think Vertin might be a tactile person.

Here are examples taken from the voice lines and context clues.  This isn't an all conclusive list of touchy interactions, just what I could find. Someone stop her before she gets hurt. Update: I'm going to keep adding on as we find more interactions together because this is really fun.

Sotheby (hat and hair): Stop it! You can't just touch an adult's head! (She is 13. Vertin probably sees her as a baby and pat her head).

Bette (hands): Ha ha ... They might be a little rough. To tightly grab the eave does require abundant practice. (assuming Vertin is holding her hand. Don’t ask me how we got here.)

Rabies (clothing and torso): Straws ... be hugged. Rabies ... feels it. (she hugged him 🥹)

A Knight (hat and hair): One step further, and you will be in close contact with Someone's nose... As long as you can hit Someone's head. (how close is Vertin standing to the AK? Or maybe she was looking for an invisible head to pat.)

Mesmer Jr (Hands) :Compared to the incurable anxiety, these wounds are minor. Oh, watch your distance. (smh Vertin not everyone likes being touched.)

Melania (hat and hair): "Well done. Please keep on." ...Aren't you going to say that? (more headpats but Melania needs vocal praise too.)

Lilya

Clothing and torso:  Feel awesome? Now it's my turn to pet you. (...what is Vertin petting? This is clothing and torso but I'm lost.)

Hat and hair: You should be grateful that I am too lazy to move now. Or you should know that the first-class pilot’s got a first-glass head-butt, too. (Vertin taking advantage of the moment to give headpats. I'm telling you, its a THING)

Leilani (Hands): Shaka brah! Ooh! Do you want a handshake or a high-five, my friend? I'm fine with either! (She’s so wholesome)

Cristallo 

hat and hair: Are you patting my head? The doctor says, this is a reward for good children. Have I done something right? 

Hands and sleeves: Would you like to hold my hands? I could be with you anytime. (Cristallo is weak and frail. The nurses say she could be blown away by a gust of wind. Despite this she says she’ll be with Vertin anytime. To me it reads as Vertin being worried Cristallo will disappear too. Cristallo notices so she offers to hold hands and says she will always be here as a way to comfort her.)

Darley Clatter

Hat and Hair:  Oh ... I can't deny you are really good at patting.

Clothing and Torso: Take a look at my beautiful muscles! I don't need to explain how fabulous I am. Hey, watch out! Rub me in the direction my mane grows.

Bonus Intimacy : Adorable? Ahh? You don't even have a taste! (Vertin pets him and calls him adorable. Darley, don’t let the girlies know. They might end your noble bloodline.)

Pavia (Hat and Hair): Wanna know how many holes I've made on others' heads? No? Then stop it. (What possessed her to give Pavia headpats?)

Dikke (hat and hair): Thou art overstepping my boundaries, arcanist. (I’m guessing Vertin is at it again with the headpats. Dikke smiles when she says this so she isn’t offended. If anything, she seems amused. )

Eternity (hands and sleeves): Go on, try holding it, and feel its temperature rising in your hand… Easy, sweetheart… take it easy, heh heh… (more hand holding but Vertin wasn’t prepared this time)

An-an Lee (hands and sleeves): What? You want a palm reading? (Vertin, why are you like this? Are you randomly touching people's hands?)

Regulus (hands and sleeves): What do you want? I don't have any spare scratch. (I'm sure she knows you're broke since she's your boss. Vertin's just being Vertin at this point.)

Vertin leads Regulus by the hand into her Suitcase in the prologue

Blonney (hands): Interesting! It's been a while since I last met someone who would start with holding hands.

She also holds Blonney's hand as she calms her down during the green lake event.

I feel like I should have picked up on this sooner. Gift-giving, hand holding, and headpats. This is the Timekeeper way.

[rougecreator1]

Hi I’ve been thinking about this request for poly!plastics for a while now. So basically everyone knows that Regina gets angry and when she does people just don’t part ways with her. However, y/n is worse especially when she doesn’t get her full sleep which she didn’t get bc Gretchen and Karen were up and loud. (Y/n would never fault them bc she just loves them so much and their quirks). So throughout the school day, everyone has been getting on Y/n nerves like making comments about her girls etc. at lunch time, cady decided to make a “joke” about Karen being dumb, Regina being a bitch, etc and Y/n just explodes. Maybe heavy make out sess or smut after to calm Y/n down.

Slow Boil

|| Poly!plastics x fem!reader

(I myself am poly)

|| Warnings: swearing, reader almost punches Cady, reader has an attitude, little make out session at the end but nothing overly detailed or anything

|| Summary: reader doesn't get enough sleep, the next day people get on her nerves and it pushes her to a boiling point where she snaps at Cady for insulting her girls.

Requests open!

~~~

To say you were exhausted would be an understatement. You barely got any sleep the night before with Gretchen and Karen being up all night giggling and gossiping. How Regina slept through them... you didn't know, but God you were envious of her sleeping abilities. Though you would never blame or get mad at Gretchen and Karen. You would however be frustrated at yourself for not falling asleep sooner.

The day seemed to drag on. As if seconds were really minutes and minutes were hours. Classes taking too long to complete. In Health & Fitness you just gave up and fell asleep, head rested on your desk with one arm folded around it and other stretched out in front of you. Cady glanced at you and raised an eyebrow.

The bell woke you from your sleep and you groaned, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. At least it was lunch. You'd get to see your girlfriends.

"Sleeping beauty rises." Mr. Carr comments, getting a few laughs from some kids in the back. You roll your eyes at him.

"I bet you thought that was clever. Do everyone a favour and keep your damn puns to yourself." Mr. Carr seemed taken aback by your attitude, usually you didn't have one. You were known for being kind and laid back. Not snappy and agitated. For that reason, he decides to let it go. Not without giving you a small warning lecture first. It certainly didn't make your mood any better.

You left the class, a sharp (sleep filled) glare glossing over your eyes as you walk through the halls. Some conversations catching your attention, people seemed to be talking about your girlfriends a lot lately. The things they were saying weren't always positive and that just did nothing to improve your mood. One voice in particular catches your attention. Cady.

You snapped your head in her direction, seeing her chatting with those art freaks Janis and Damien.

"Honestly, Karen's gotta be the dumbest person I've ever met. When I went to Regina's house Regina told Karen she would help her with her eyebrows and Karen asked if she could still have two." Cady talked, Damien and Janis laughed. You could feel your blood boiling," Speaking of Regina, don't even get me started on her. She is such a bi-"

"The next word out of your mouth better fucking be "bi icon" or I swear to every God that's listening..!" You yelled, taking a step towards Cady who froze in place. Damien and Janis exchanged a look.

"Y-Y/N, I didn't think-" You cut Cady off.

"Clearly! What the hell, Cady?! They've been nothing but nice- well, to your face- and this how you repay them?" You were livid. The news about you fighting with Cady quickly spread throughout the school, eventually reaching your girlfriends who sprang into action. Hoping to stop things before it escalated.

Regina got there first and put herself between you and Cady right as you had been about to strike. You pause the moment you see Regina and your arm falls to your side. Gretchen and Karen link their arms around yours and keep you back while Regina sighs.

"Baby, take a breath for me." Regina says, you ignore her and look at Cady. She snaps her fingers in your face," Don't look at her. Look at me."

You listen. Reluctantly.

"Breathe." Regina urges, hand resting on your shoulder. When that doesn't work she grabs you by your wrist and pulls you to the bathroom, Gretchen and Karen quickly following behind.

Once there, they all turn and face you.

"What was all that about?" Gretchen asks.

"Cady was being a total bitch." You mutter, arms folded across your chest.

"You mean like Cady Heron?" Karen looks confused.

"No, KD Mac and Cheese." You snap, then realize who you just snapped at. Regina narrows her eyes at you. Karen frowned and you relaxed your shoulders.

"I'm sorry... I just- didn't get any sleep last night and my patience has been pushed to the edge today because of it..." You admit in a mumble, hand covering your face as you tilted your head down. You felt bad.

Gretchen took a step towards you and wrapped her arms around your shoulders, pulling you into her side as she moves her hand away from your face. Giving you a deep, soft kiss that you immediately melt into. Hands resting gently around Gretchen to pull her closer. You could feel as your body finally relaxed. Whatever anger you had being washed away.

She broke the kiss and rested her hand to your cheek," Better?"

"I could maybe use a couple more kisses..." You smile sheepishly, looking over at Regina and Karen. Your girlfriends laugh softly and the tension in the room seems to fade.

[wecanbe-heroes]

Astarion x reader, gn!tav

Requested by a member of the bg3 discord I am in. Tav uses disguise self to show Astarion his reflection. 1.1k words. Short and teasingly sweet.

“Damn this blasted thing!” You hear glass shatter and lean up out of your bedroll, glancing in the direction of the sound. A pale figure stands outside his tent, a broken mirror at his feet. The other people in your camp side eye him before going back to their business, but you rise to your feet.

“What’s going on over here?” You ask gently as you approach, careful to avoid any glass on the ground.

Astarion whirls around to face you, a brief look of anger then shock. “Hello, darling.” His face is a mask of cool now, his lips poised in his signature smirk. “Silly me just dropped my mirror.” He bent to pick it up and a couple extra pieces of glass clatter to the dirt.

“I thought vampires couldn’t see their reflection?” You already know the answer, but ask anyway. This earns a sigh and Astarion looks at the mirror.

“Yes, this is true. A part of me keeps checking though.” He twirls it in his hands for a moment before placing it back on the stool by his tent. “If this wretched tadpole can make me walk in the sun again, I thought it might let me see myself again.” There is a yearning in his voice and you realize it has been over 200 years since the elf has seen his reflection.

“So you’ve never had a portrait made or anything?” You tilt your head slightly to the left.

“Ha! As if Cazador would allow that.” He scoffs and waves a hand. “No, I have no memory before being turned. All I know is what people have told me. White hair, vampire red eyes. Beauty to rival a god.” His smirk widens and he winks at you. You can’t help the faint flush that rises to your cheeks at his flirtations. While perhaps exaggerated, he is quite beautiful.

“I wish I could paint a portrait of you, Astarion. You deserve to see yourself truly.” You sigh. Artistic talent never found its way to you, your hands not built for the finer arts.

“That is quite alright my sweet.” His eyes soften for a moment. Unknownst to you, he is taken aback by your offer. No one has ever cared enough about his vanity, his desire to know how he appears to others, to offer to paint him. He jerks back as you suddenly gasp and clap your hands together.

“I can do something better than a portrait!” How could you forget? You run back to your bags, rummaging through them. You picked up a scroll a few days ago that might be just what you need. Finally, you find the scroll you are looking for. 

"What have you got there?" Astarion's voice holds a hint of wary, trust still hard for him. You give him a smirk and unfurl the scroll.

"It's been awhile since I've cast this spell so I'm studying it." You crack your knuckles and neck, studying the spell. It's not something you keep prepared and you're glad you picked this up in the abandoned house you went through earlier. Astarion steps back and you wave him forward. "Don't worry, it's not a spell for you. It's for me." You reassure him and stand to your full height. You study his features for awhile, long enough he begins to look uncomfortable under your scrutiny. You want to get this right, show him an as exact replica as you can.

"Alright here we go." You give yourself a shake and then begin casting. Magic sparks from your fingers as you wave them around your body. Tingles and light shocks spread across your skin as it changes. The spell is quick and basically painless, more of an itch as it adds an illusion over your body. Your camp clothes disappear, replaced by Astarion's leather pants and ruffled shirt. It's a bit weird, seeing the illusion take over but still feeling your normal look. Within a couple seconds, you are now standing eye to eye with the vampire. His eyes are wide, mouth slightly agape. You have never seen him flustered like this. "Well, what do you think?" You hold your arms out, pale skin gleaming the same as his. You don't feel the elongated canines in your mouth, but you know they are there when his eyes flicker to your mouth when you speak, giving him a smirk mirroring his own.

"My my, I am as handsome as I thought." His jokes armor against his own sensitivity. In truth, his hands are shaking and eyes keep jumping to different parts of you. You give him a slow turn to get the full view. Then you step forward, close enough your boots are nearly touching his. "Those eyes, my eyes. So red." He sneers at the sight. You wonder what color they were before he was turned. A shade of hazel or brown would be staggering, though he likely had a shade of blue as most high elves have. The red is piercing is he studies your face, his face. Drinking you in to burn forever in his memory. You reach up to his face, fingers ghosting the skin. Not touching him, but longing to. 

"I'm not sure if I got the laugh lines right." You say breathlessly, trying to ease the sudden tension. Astarion scoffs and rolls his eyes, you ignore the slight glisten in them to save his pride.

"I am an immortal being, I do not have laugh lines!" He moves away from you, smoothing the creases around his mouth. As you give a soft chuckle, the spell begins to fade. That itching tingle spreads across your body once more and then you are back to normal you.

"I'm sorry I couldn't give you more. Maybe we can commision a portrait once we get to the city?" You suggest, though you're not sure if your team will make it to Baldur's Gate let alone have time for such a thing. 

"No apologies, darling. You have given me enough." He gets far off look on his face before he takes your hand in his, a rare display of affection. "Thank you." He presses a kiss to the back of your hand before he retreats back into his tent. You stand there for a moment in awe before picking up the broken mirror and the glass pieces. A quick mending cantrip and it looks brand new. You place it on the stool outside his tent before going back to your bedroll. The spot on your hand that he kissed phantomly burns as you fall to sleep, dreaming of soft red eyes. 

[rukkiya]

take it back

(al haitham x reader, zhongli x reader (separate). they take off their wedding bands during an argument)

al haitham ｡･ﾟﾟ･

“Drop it, this doesn’t concern you.” He states flatly, not even glancing your way.

“Doesn’t concern me?! What’re you saying? All I’m asking is if you’ve gotten any rest! Since you’ve become Grand Sage I haven’t even seen you home for who knows how long!” You follow behind him as he walks away.

“Stop it.” He exhales, his lack of sleep and the stress was piling up, even for someone as tame and collected as Al Haitham this was getting to be a bit much for him.

“If you need a break take one! Not for anyone else but yourself Haitham come on! Please look at yourself, you're going to wear yourself out in no time!” You plead, voice slightly rising at his dismissive attitude. His legs come to a halt making you stop a few feet behind.

“Get off my case already, you’re being a bother.” His hands move faster than his brain registers, his fingers ghosting over his ring finger without another thought.

“I’m not the one that needs to look in the mirror, have you taken a good look at yourself?” He spits out turning hot on his heels, eyes narrowing at you.

You only gulp, feeling whiplash by his words and sudden outburst. You hadn’t expected him to act like this. You know how drained he really is and try to shove what he just said to the side but the look in his eyes made you think otherwise.

“This job was appointed to me specifically so it’s my duty to uphold it to the best of my ability. My job is of more importance than you’ll ever be anyways. With your lack of knowledge of course I don’t expect you to understand. I suggest you leave if you truly can’t handle it.” The ring he took off slipped from his fingertips as he threw it your direction making time freeze for you both as he did so.

He truly has no logical explanation as to why he did such a thing, can’t wrap his own mind around what he’s said or done until he sees your expression drop from angry to sad in seconds.

His ring finger now felt oddly cold without the silver band hugging it. The sound of the ring hitting the floor was way too loud in the now dead quiet house.

Your voice was no longer ringing in his ears, the only thing he heard now was his heart rapidly beating in his chest, what has he done?

You stand there letting it sink in. You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt again but taking his ring off and throwing it at your face was something else entirely. Your angry expression was nowhere seen as you felt your heart drop along with the ring he carelessly tossed your way.

You couldn't bring yourself to move from where you stood, nor did he. Seeing how this was his reaction to you getting on his case about taking better care of himself it shows how truly annoyed he’s grown of you. How much of a bother you’ve become. Exactly what you were afraid of what would happen.

“Y/n I-“

The things he just said ring loud in your ears as you hesitantly step forward not hearing him call you just now.

You bring your hand to your ring finger, slipping off the matching one you wore. Now both rings were in your hand making Al Haitham’s eyes widen.

What has he done?

He moves forward. Long legs striding up to you in seconds. He couldn’t stand it. The sight of your ring finger bare or his own, he needed to say something! Anything!

“No, don't do that. Please.” He pleads, warm hands reaching for your smaller ones only to see yours retract from his making his breath hitch. What has he done?

The two delicate rings now in your palm, both of your hearts and vows in the palm of your hands. Seeing him take it off without a second thought made you rethink what he told you the day you got married. Was your caring really enough to drive him mad, to want to push you away this much?

Al Haitham was never one to act out on emotion, always calm and collected, cool headed, but seeing him react in such a way made you realize just how much of you he truly couldn’t take anymore. He wouldn’t have reacted that way if you weren’t so goddamn overbearing.

You hesitate but extend your arm out, hand hovering over his.

His own reach out in an instant but he regrets doing so the second you place both rings on his palm now. The weight of his actions dawned on him and the logical solutions he’s always so good at coming up with were nowhere useful at the moment.

His usually unamused face was now painted with worry as fear struck him in his gut.

“I understand, I’m sorry. It was out of line of me to say that.” You clear your throat. It’s all you can say, but what else were you supposed to say? You were embarrassed, ashamed. You annoyed him so much to the point he didn’t think twice about taking off his wedding band. Only having it thrown at your face was more than enough to signal that he's grown far from annoyed with your presence.

“Wait, no don't do this. Y/N it’s not-“

“You’re right, your job is of much more importance. I’ll take my leave.” You move away from him as he reaches out again. You wanted to get out of there, not wanting to stand in the same room as him for another second, it was too much right now. You both clearly needed to clear your minds. Though even after you both do, how will things be afterwards?

zhongli ･ﾟﾟ･｡

The once fearless god now residing in Liyue harbor, taking it a day at a time. He’s learned to take things a day at a time and enjoy what he has while he has it. In the past he was shown just how quickly things can be taken away if taken for granted.

He was skeptical of letting anyone get too close as he's seen far too many of his loved ones pass on before his eyes, knowing just how fragile and weak mortals truly are. You however were selfless, always putting others safety before our own and he couldn't stand it. Though he had already fallen for you long before and you both vowed to love each other till death do you part he promised himself that he'd take care of your reckless self for as long as he can to keep you with him for as long as celestia would allow.

Tough, when your expedition team came back with you on a stretcher the sad reality was thrown in his face again, but he bit his tongue knowing just how stubborn you can be about protecting others.

Your injuries were not major but enough to leave you bedridden for a few days. Deep cuts and bruising littler your skin from you carelessly throwing yourself in front of falling debris to protect one of your expedition buddies. Zhongli can't help but let his mind wander to darker places every time you get hurt. He can't help but think of the worst, always fearing he'd lose you for good everytime you leave.

“Come on, it really isn't so bad! I'm serious, I’m all better, see!” You give him your best smile, outstretching your arms to show him your now smaller bruises.

He looks away from your arms, jaw clenching as he remembers how badly it was when you first arrived. Your legs looked even worse yet you weren’t even complaining about the pain he knew you definitely felt.

“The doctor said you’re not to leave until another two weeks. You should still be bedridden so please stop talking about such things and get some proper rest.” His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose as he tells you this for the hundredth time. He understands your love for being out and helping others but he can’t understand why you’d want to risk getting more hurt than you already are.

“Enough resting for me, I've been here for too long already. I can be doing something right now instead of wasting my time sitting here doing nothing!” You try to reason. You were going mad as more days passed by. You felt good enough to go out again, sitting in bed all day wasn't going to ease your racing mind anyways. Going out always helps take your mind off yourself and focus on more important matters.Giving others a helping hand instead of letting your mind think too much. Having Zhongli stay home a few days helped but you felt like a bother for having him take care of you for so long already.

His pointer finger and thumb fidget with the wedding band on his ring finger to distract himself from losing his composure in front of you. It was the only thing he could do other than bite his tongue and going off on you, telling you your selfish and foolish to even bring it up ‘getting back out there’ this early but you weren’t letting up, you kept bringing it up over and over and flashes of your beaten body were flashing though his mind until he spiraled thinking the worst.

“Listen, from now on I'll be more careful.” you sigh, feeling bad seeing his eyebrows crease knowing it's stressing him out.

“But you have to understand, if I get hurt I'll be ok. I just can't let others get hurt in front of me. If I can prevent that then at any cost I will.” You explain, seeing his shoulders tense up.

A loud scraping sound cut you off as the chair he was sitting on was pushed back in an instant.

“How careless could you be? Can't you see that I was worried sick yet you say such things? Have you any idea how much this affects me too!? I can't stand seeing you beaten and bruised yet you are all the time!” his voice gets higher as he talks, you didn't dare speak, having never heard his voice go any higher than how he normally speaks.

“I'm not doing it on purpose. Love, I don't mean to cause you distress its just-”

The band on his finger snapped, two halves falling onto the floor as you tried to tell him once again how it wasn't a big deal. But he couldn't take it. “I've heard enough of your excuses, if you truly feel as if your life means nothing then i'll see it the same way from now on too.” He sighs and you feel your throat go dry.

“I'm not making excuses, I don't see it like that. Zhongli, I don't want you to leave me- its- it's just that I-” you stutter as he kneels down to the broken pieces on the floor. You've done it now, your carelessness always gets you into trouble one way or another. You didn't mean it like that, to say you didn't care about his feelings of concerns but you just didn't phrase it right.

Of course you care, you think of him everytime you leave and pray you'll be back to see him another day. Having him leave you scared you like no other, you didn't want to be alone. So hearing him say that right now set a familiar feeling in your chest, you were going to be left all alone once again.

“Zhongli, listen please. I want you to stay! I want to stay with you and have us grow old together. I don't want to get injured badly and put stress or worry on you nor do I wish for an early death upon myself. I just want to help others, and be with you! I know I'm reckless but you've known that since we've met. I'm sorry, I know I'm a headache to be around but I can't stand seeing others hurt. If I can prevent that I will. But I need you here, I need you by my side. I can't stand being alone.” You explain, throwing your heavy legs over the side of your bed as he placed the broken ring by your bedside table.

“Yes, I've known that since before I married you Y/n but you're right, I guess you've become too much even for me to handle now.” He places the ring beside you and you stand up on wobbly legs.

Almost falling over he gives you a hand and steadies you. Seeing you already on the brink of tears hurt him physically but he needed a breather, to clear his mind.

“Please no, dont leave me alone” You whisper, hands slightly tightening around his forearm to keep him from moving.

He has to hold himself back from wrapping his arms around you, saying he'd stay but he can't continue to watch you hurt yourself. Insead he offers you his comforting smile and nods his head. “In due time i'll be back, but until then you need to realize just how important your life is before anything else my love.” He whispers, placing a featherlite kiss on top of your head before turning around. You grip him a bit more but he slowly pulls back. You don't fight it though. If he truly couldn't stand this anymore you didn't blame him, so you let him go without uttering another word.

He doesn't let himself turn around because he knows he won't leave if he sees your crying. You don't stop him either, not wanting to hold him back and cause him more distress than you already have. He hears you crying by the time he closes the door behind him and he promises himself he'd come back. You may not want him by the time, you may resent him for doing this but he'd still love you and care no matter what because as much worry and pain you gave him from your selflessness he wouldnt replace you for anyone else nor take back the time hes spent with you.

______________

authors note: hello hehehe :3 MY LOVES THANK YOU ALL SM FOR 1,000-PLEASE!!!! (｡´ ‿｀♡) I had planned to post another oneshot but I ended up writing this one while writing the other one lol ( that one will be up soon!) but it’s my first time writing for zhongli! ive had this idea sitting in my mind for months GOSH FINALLY I WRITE IT!!but had a hard time deciding who to write it for lol so I chose these two handsome men! this is my second multi post again ( idk if I should even call it that it’s only two lol) it’s not edited so apologies for any errors but besides that, I do hope you all enjoy, remember to drink water and take care ok! ^~^<333

[bored-storyteller]

Ok this is totally self-indulgent that's off the canon, but I wrote that and now you can find it here. It is related to this and the continuation of this. Of course you are free to ignore it.

Sally Face, Sal Fisher x Reader

The sun in the night

"It's me."

If you hadn't noticed how much his fingers were shaking, now you surely heard it in his voice.

"It's really me." Sal insists, because he doesn't know what else to do.

You are there, in front of him, illuminated only by a cold artificial light, the road is empty except for you two, and you hold three large sunflowers in your arms.

"Don’t be afraid." He keeps telling you, because that's what he expected to find in you: amazement, fear, disbelief.

Yet he sees none of this in your gaze, or maybe he does, but not in the sense that he - people - would expect.

You are motionless in front of him, he almost thinks that you are not breathing, and perhaps he fears more than you the consequences of his reckless gesture, of having sought you out.

"I ... I'm back ... if you can say so ..."

Oh, how much he would like to ask you not to cry. But what right does he have? And why are you crying? For him, or for the wounds he inflicted on you? How much he wished things had been different between you two, a trip to the underworld is not enough to start all over again.

Your tears are silent, they slide down your cheeks, on your expressionless lips. And you're looking at him like you're waiting, waiting to see him disappear, maybe.

"Please ..." he finally begs, in a whisper. Sal knows he cannot expect anything, but he feels cold, cold and lonely in being so distant from you. He felt your pain, he felt it inside of him, and he would pay any cost - more than he has already done - to hold you in his arms.

Now, a word would be enough for him, just one, even a sigh.

But you don't speak, you just stand there looking at him, with wet eyes and clenched teeth.

And then, as if you were a dream, he sees you reach out to him; extend your arm in the direction of him. He doesn't hesitate in his moves, he hardly thinks when he approaches you.

Your palm is now on his chest, he holds it gently over his heart, his living heart beating in his ribcage.

"I'm here ... it's me ..." he repeats again, like a broken record, without daring to look up at you.

Even just your passive touch is a refreshment to him. At least you are there, at least you are in front of him, at least you know that he really is there.

And there would be so many things he would like - no, he should – to tell you, but like a raging river in a too small crack he can't get anything out. Everything is too important and nothing is enough. He has the distinct feeling that one wrong word can make you go away, forever, and a thousand deaths won't be enough to bring you back to him.

But he has to tell you something, he has to talk to you, he can't drop everything out of cowardice, he can't.

"I love you."

They are not his words, they are yours. The first words you say to him after his return, the first time he hears your voice.

Ba-bum.

His heart is heavy and light at the same time, it sinks into his bowels and rises until it becomes tears in his eyes.

He looks at you now, his lips parted so he can breathe under the mask. And you cry with all the emotions painted on your face as your hand squeezes against his ribs.

And if you have managed to stop the world, it is still you with a sweet whisper to recall everything, again.

"Believe me ..." you beg him. It is a desperate prayer full of all the pain you have felt. “Believe me please, I love you. I've never stopped doing it and I won't be able to stop, please ... "

And he believes that you could continue forever, in that frightened plea. You don't ask him to reciprocate, but to believe you, because he didn't.

"I know it." He interrupts "God, I know ... I know and ..." And he's so sorry he didn't believe you. How many times he would have taken back this words, while he was thinking of you, while he perceived in his own soul your suffering, your remorse for not having been able to make him understand it in time, for not having made him feel loved enough.

He would like to tell you all this, he would like to tell you that he was wrong to trust himself more than you.

But your hand on his chest is now gripping his sweatshirt in a feeble attempt to hold him, as if he could disappear at any moment, and who guarantees otherwise?

He has already left you.

And you're not even expecting him to really stay, you just want him to know that you love him, and you love him with a sweet, tender, strong love that goes beyond even death itself.

"And I love you too." And it is the only important thing he has to say to you now, when he sees you collapse under the weight of an excruciating sadness that you have endured without perspective.

"Sal ..." His name in your cry sounds like the lament of a puppy left alone, and you finally come back to your home. You are against him, in his arms, your wet face hides against his neck, his blue hair softly covers your head.

And he holds you tight, he finally protects you, feels you real, in flesh and blood.

"I have so many things to tell you ... to explain and ..."

"I don't want to know ..." you whisper, never leaving your shelter "I don't want to know how you did it, or why ... if it's a dream, I don't want to know. Just stay with me. "

He understands, and he accepts it.

Your head is resting on his shoulder like when you were sitting together by the lake years ago. Your hand looks for his, and caresses it, like the last time you met, and like the first time you met, the sunflowers shine among you.

[bloomries]

SAY YOU LOVE ME

﹙ ✿ ﹚── includes  : lucifer (obey me).

﹙ ✿ ﹚── synopsis  : after simeon helps you realize why lucifer seems to be picking on you, you confront him about it.

﹙ ✿ ﹚── warnings  : 2nd person pov. gn! reader. probably ooc Lucifer, but oh well, I enjoy thinking of him being a flustered mess. enemies-to-lovers (?).

Was there anything more awful than getting caught in Lucifer's lectures? Well, perhaps being nearly eaten alive by a demon but that hadn't happened in quite some time, so Lucifer's lectures were definitely rising in irritation factors.

You weren't even sure why you were being lectured, if you were being honest. You hadn't gotten into any fights, nor helped Mammon with any schemes, nor were you failing any classes. So why? And these little afternoon meetings were beginning to grow more frequent. You sigh, shifting in your seat as you boredly stared at the ground— a speckle of dust has taken your attention off of the deep lull of Lucifer's voice.

"And- Ahem," Lucifer coughed into his fist, and when you glanced up to meet his eyes, he was glaring at you, a frown etched into his features. "Are you even paying attention? Shall I start from the top?" His arms are crossed over his chest, his stare growing more intense.

"No, I was listening. You're mad 'cause... something... I did...?" Lucifer blinks at you, before his face morphs into one of pure fury.

"Ha, I'm starting to think perhaps you like spending time with me. I'll take it from the very top." He spits out, before, like he promised, he begins his rant— lecture— from the start. And once again, he becomes so patient in berating you that he doesn't even notice you've begun to space out again.

Seriously, he needed to sweep his floors.

After three lengthy hours, which really isn't that bad compared to previous scolding, you leave his room. Mammon is waiting right outside, wearing a smug grin. Seems he's proud to not be the only one being chastised by the eldest.

"So, what'd ya get in trouble for?" You shrug, Mammon walking side by side with you as you make your way back to your room.

"Who knows, probably didn't do the dishes right, or wore my uniform slightly wrong, or- or something dumb like that..." You grumble, because even during the bits you were paying attention, it just sounded like Lucifer talking in circles about 'not getting in trouble' and 'being a model student' or something along those lines. Just talking to hear his own voice.

Thankfully you didn't get in trouble the next day, nor the next, sadly the third day was much different. You had been on your best behavior, simply chatting happily with Simeon on your way home, when Lucifer tsked upon seeing you two.

"See me in my office when you get home." Is all he said, a small sneer directed towards you— or was it Simeon?— as he passed by you both.

"Hm, he seems more... frustrated than usual." Simeon comments, before offering you a sheepish smile. "Sorry, it seems I got you in trouble." You wave your hand dismissively, glowering.

"It's not your fault. Honestly, Lucifer has been super strict with me lately- It's like I'm not even allowed to talk to others, it's starting to get annoying." You complain, and Simeon eyes you before chuckling.

"Ah, is that so?" He hums, looking up at the Devildom sky. "Sounds like he's jealous?" Your neck nearly breaks from how quickly you whip around to look at Simeon. He's got a twinkle in his eye.

"Jealous? Ha, that would imply he likes me! Don't make such crazy accusations, Simeon."

"Is it that crazy to believe? Lucifer's always been a bit possessive with the things he likes." Simeon informs you, "You're charming in your own way, and I've noticed the change in Lucifer whenever you're around. But maybe I'm just imagining it, who knows?" The conversation between you two dies out as your mind begins to think a million thoughts per second.

Did... Did Lucifer like you? Did he actually, possibly have a crush on you? Thinking back on it, he did usually only lecture you after finding you with others, and (although it could just be a trick of the light) were his cheeks always a warm shade of pink?

Many thoughts ran through your mind, to the point you barely even registered when Simeon branched off from you to return to his own destination. So lost in thought, you only take notice you're at the House of Lamentation when you realize the door is locked and you need to take out your keys.

Sighing upon entering the house, you glance up the steps. To Lucifer's office you go.

The same old routine begins, Lucifer offering you take a seat, him rounding his desk with that disgruntled expression, leaning against his desk and his eyes raking over your figure before he dives into all the problems you 'caused.'

You rest your chin in the palm of your hand, thinking back on what Simeons said (in reality, it didn't really leave your mind from the moment he said it).

"Hey, do you like me?"

Your words brought Lucifer to a sudden silence. Without his voice, you look up to see him staring at you in disbelief before he clears his throat, acting as if he hadn't been shocked— with how quickly his expression changed you would've believed him if he said you were seeing things.

"I don't dislike you." You quirk a brow, leaning forward in your chair.

"No, like... hmm, should I say, do you love me?" You coo the word 'love,' and watch as his ears turn a deep shade of red despite the neutral face he struggles to keep. He can't seem to find the words to respond, just staring at the ground, trying to grasp the situation (he thought he was hiding it well).

"No way, you do!" Your amusement doesn't help, "Wait- Were these lectures just so you could spend time with me?" You lean back in your seat, thinking. "Wow, sadistic." You chide.

"You're being childish." He scolds, brows furrowed in annoyance.

"Say it." Lucifer meets your fiery gaze, and a lump forms in his throat. "C'mon, Luci, say it. Say you love me." His brow twitches, his eyes shifting away from yours.

"No." He grumbles, but you scoff, standing up and walking over to him.

"I think you owe me for how many hours you wasted with your bullshit." You point into his chest, glaring at him. "All the times I could've gone out having fun, I was stuck in this room listening to you scold me for who knows what. I think you owe it too me to admit your feelings."

Lucifer scowls, "Why do you insist so much?"

"Because," You begin, taking his chin between your thumb and pointer and turning his head to face you, your faced both incredibly close. Lucifer's cheeks grow warmer at your bold actions. "I want to hear it from that pretty mouth of yours."

Lucifer's breath hitches when your eyes fall to his lips. He knew you were bold, but were you going to kiss him? He secretly hoped so- alas, you waited, and he knew you wouldn't do a thing until he confessed. Curse you.

"I... I like you." He grumbles out breathily, "Are you happy now?" Uncharacteristically, Lucifer stinks of desperation. Never in his life had he groveled pathetically before, but if you were to ask him to get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness, he would seriously consider it.

"Not yet," He can feel your hot breath against his skin, and he wants nothing more than to kiss you, but refrains. You pull away, placing your hands on his chest. "Take me on a date. Then maybe, perhaps I'll think of considering forgiving you for all my wasted time." You slip away, despite his attempt to grab your wrist, you slink your way to the door.

"Ah, and one more thing before I go," You say, leaning back in. Lucifer is already sinking into his chair, hiding half his face. He grunts in response, and you continue. "Jealousy doesn't suit you, Lucifer. Show some pride in your emotions, yeah?" All he can do is chuckle weakly, and nod along. Yes, he'll make sure to not hide his affections again, lest he wish to relive this embarrassing moment.

﹙ ✿ ﹚thank you for reading. have a wonderful day, darling!

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Personal Time

Steven Grant X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info

Personal Time Series Masterlist

Summary: You're helping Steven to find his reading glasses when you accidently find his personal toys instead.

A/N: Okay, so I have sat on this for a while. I wrote it while I was a little out of it late last year with a fever, and, erm, yes. Here it is. I obviously have a think about people saying 'please' (we don't have time to unpack that) and amazingly the fucking actually takes place on a bed for once. (We definitely dont' have time to unpack that - literally just realised earlier that so much smut I write happens on a settee?)

Warnings: Oh, haha, where do I start? Anal fingering, anal sex with a dildo, dry humping, reader thinking about wishing they had a dick so they could fuck Steven with it, pegging (sort of, it's with a dildo and not a strap), swearing - so much swearing, Steven has a praise kink, kinda sub!Steven? typos I am sure, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning.

Word Count: 3071

________________________________

You hadn’t meant to go snooping. You really hadn’t. 

Steven had asked you to look through the drawers. He had misplaced his reading glasses and was frantically scouring the flat for them, or his spare pair - whichever he found first. 

That was when you asked if you could help and he had directed you to the large chest of drawers near his bed. Hoping his spare pair was in there ‘somewhere’. 

You searched the top drawer first, with no success. It was only on the third one from the bottom that you found something. But obviously not what Steven had intended on you finding. 

There was a battered shoe box jammed in on the left hand side and you had innocently taken the lid off, hoping for a glasses case. Instead you found a collection of items that were of a more… personal nature. 

You paused, the lid in your hands, your eyes trained on the objects inside, your lips pressed together in surprise. Your mind had short circled just a little bit. Were these Steven’s? Did he know that they were in there? 

Maybe you should just put the lid back on and pretend you hadn’t seen anything. That would be the best thing, wouldn’t it? The sensible thing. 

It wasn’t like you and Steven hadn’t had sex, and you didn’t have a problem with him (or Marc or Jake) owning toys and using them. It just seemed a bit… impolite. It wasn’t like he had shown them to you himself. After all, he might not want-

“I found them love, they were…” Steven’s voice made you visibly jump. 

You spun around too quickly to face him, heat rising to your face. The shoe box lid still clutched in your hands. 

Maybe he didn’t realise, maybe you could-

He swallowed, his throat bobbed as he made an audible gulping noise that could have been almost comedic if you didn’t feel like a rogue sniper taking you out at that very moment would be the best thing in the world. 

He was obviously looking at your hands. “I-”

“I didn’t mean to,” you blurted out, rushing the words so that they blurred together. “I’m sorry, not that there’s anything wrong with it, I mean, I didn’t see anything, I just thought your glasses… could… be…” You slowed as Steven gave you a lopsided smile. 

He ran a hand through his hair, “yeah, erm, just a couple of things in there, really. For, you know, some alone time.” There was a little flush in his cheeks and running up his neck.

“So they’re yours?” You spoke before you could actually think about what you were saying. 

“Oh, er, yep,” he smiled a little nervously, the thought of pinning ownership on Marc or Jake hadn’t crossed his mind. “All mine.” 

You nodded, chewing at your bottom lip for a second. Steven shifted his stance ever so slightly, the smallest action. But it was something you recognised, and you were suddenly very sure that the heat in his face wasn’t from embarrassment. 

“Do Marc and Jake ever use them?” 

He shook his head quickly. His breathing had gotten a little faster. 

“But you use them on yourself?” You lowered your voice ever so slightly, taking a step towards him. 

He nodded, his fingers fiddling with his shirt sleeves. 

You took another step so that you were nearly touching. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, see how wide his pupils had grown. “Do you like using them on yourself?” 

He swallowed again, his voice barely a whisper. “Yes.”

“Would you show me?” You brushed your lips over his jaw, feather light in your touch.

Steven breathed in sharply. He was watching you intently, mesmerised by your movements as you began to slowly slide your hand up his chest. 

“Would you show me how you use them?” You blinked heavily at him and he groaned, grabbing hold of your face and pulling you into a searing kiss. All teeth and tongue as he moaned into you, whimpering as you nipped at his bottom lip and trying to chase your mouth when you moved away.

You didn’t have to ask again.

“Yes, yes, please, I’ll show you.” He sounded wrecked already, his heart beating so fast as he kissed your mouth again hurriedly before trailing down to your neck to run his teeth over your pulse point. 

You let out a little surprised gasp and wrapped your arms around his broad shoulder, holding him against you. 

“Are you sure?” 

He moaned an affirmative into your neck as he sucked at your skin. 

“I don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to.” You managed to say through a moan. 

Steven glared at you, kissing you roughly before taking your hand and pressing it against his trousers. 

He was painfully hard and aching. His cock twitching under your touch as you palmed his erection. 

“Fuck,” you muttered, breathing heavily. Heat began to pool between your legs. 

“Want you to see love,” he murmured against your ear as you stroked him through his trousers. “Want you to watch me.” 

You nodded furiously and managed to drag yourself away from him. 

He whined a little as you stepped back, lamenting your closeness. 

Quickly you grabbed the shoe box, throwing the lid haphazardly into the still open drawer, and pushed it into his open hands. 

You took a few steps backwards, leaning against the chest of drawers and watched Steven intently. 

“I want you to do it as if I wasn’t here.” 

Steven moaned quietly as he bit his lower lip, his eyes were hooded and dark. He nodded once before he put the box on the bed and pulled off his clothes, leaving them as a pile on the floor before climbing back onto the bed completely bare. 

You let out a shuddered breath. You’d seen him naked before but you’d never grow tired of it. The slight flush to his skin, the way he curled his toes against the mattress, his hard cock smearing precome over his stomach. 

He pushed himself further onto the bed until he was laying on his back with his head on the pillows, his dark hair fanning out around him. 

He breathed heavily for a moment, trying to settle the spark of excitement that was running through his limbs. He hadn’t thought you watching him would arouse him so much. 

With a practised ease, he fished the bottle of lube out of the box and flicked it open one handedly as he planted his feet firmly on the bed and spread his legs. If he was honest, it was a little wider than he usually did, his movements a little slower and more precise, trying his best to put on a bit of a show. 

A small pinch of panic worried his chest, what if you didn’t like this. He glanced over to you and relief flooded over him instantly. His dick twitched. You were watching him with rapt attention, your chest rising and falling as you tried your best to control yourself. 

He kept his gaze on you as he coated two fingers with the cool liquid and slowly sunk them into himself. 

Steven moaned loudly, and truthfully a little louder than he would have if he was alone, at the sensation. The stretch. 

You groaned as he entered himself, rubbing your legs together to try to ease the growing ache. 

Steven moved his fingers slowly in and out of himself, thrusting his hips up ever so slightly when he sunk them in as far as he could reach. It was never quite far enough, no matter how hard he tried he was never able to hit that special spot inside with just his own fingers. 

It still felt good though. He moaned again, whimpering as he sisscored his fore and index fingers and felt his body try to resist. The tension boiling along his skin and adding to the pleasure building in his belly. 

He threw his head back, forcing his fingers as wide as they could go as he picked up the pase and fucked himself mercilessly.

You let out a whispered “fuck.” Wetness soaking your underwear, you couldn’t help yourself as you slid your hand underneath your clothes and ran your finger over your clit, circling it in time to Steven’s movements.

Your little moans and whimpers went straight to his cock, how eager you were to watch him, how much you wanted to, it was all too much. The tension in the base of his cock was building far quicker than it normally did. He couldn’t wait any longer. 

Slowly he pulled his fingers out of himself with a wet pop, and, with his other hand, grabbed his purple dildo from the box. It was thick and realistically shaped with a sucker on the bottom to presumably attach it to the floor or walls. 

The sudden thought of Steven sticking it against the tiles in his shower and harshly fucking himself against it as hot water ran along his back filled your mind.

He took another sneaky glance at you and you caught his eye, biting your lip as he squeezed another generous amount of lube over the length of it. 

He couldn’t help but watch your hand as you touched yourself, lost in the movements. 

“I usually,” he swallowed, his mouth dry. “I usually just sit on it and wank myself off.” 

You bit down hard on your lip as you moaned, the image of Steven sitting up in bed rocking back ever so slightly on the dildo so that it ground into him as he worked on his weeping cock was too much. 

“But,” he paused for a second, “maybe, only if you want, you could-”

“Yes,” you blurted out, pulling your shirt over your head as you rushed towards him. You flung your clothes off hastily until you were as bare as he was and then joined him on the bed, kneeling by his side. 

Steven looked up at you with lust filled eyes, as he drank in every inch of your naked body. 

“Maybe you could,” he bit his lip, his voice low, “put it in me?” 

You wined, rubbing your legs together again to ease the ache and nodded. 

He handed you the dildo and you took the end, holding it still as Steven poured and spread more lube over it. 

God, it was thick. Your mouth went dry, how did he even fit all this in himself? The thought was meant to be a concern and guilt settled in your stomach as you felt a fresh wetness against your thighs. 

Would you really like that? To fill him up so much that he didn’t even remember his own name? To fuck him so hard that he was screaming yours? The flutter of your walls answered the question for you. 

He nodded and you moved between his legs.

“Will you tell me if I do it wrong?” 

Steven smiled. “You won’t. But I’ll tell you, don’t worry love.” He reached out to you and you gave him your free hand, he lent up a little to press a kiss against your knuckles. 

Carefully, you moved the tip of the dildo against him. Some of the lube from his earlier actions was slowly leaking out and you had to practically bite your tongue in two to stop yourself from groaning. 

WIth your free hand you cupped his balls, massaging them gently in languid strokes. 

“Oh fuck,” Steven threw his head back again, aching his spine ever so slightly. 

“Okay?” You asked teasingly as you lightly pressed the tip of the dildo against him.

“Hmmm, uh hummm, more than okay, more than, please love, ah-” he cut himself off with a low rumbling moan as you leisurely eased it inside of him. 

Your movements languid as he swallowed more and more, the dildo splitting him open. His thighs tensed, shaking with the press of it, his insides clenching against the silicon and how you wished you could feel it. Feel how tight he was and how hard he squeezed. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, ah love, so good, so good, please, more, I need it.” He was blabbering, not even fully registering what he was saying. 

You continued to rub his balls as you pushed further in. “You’re such a good boy Steven, so good taking all of this.” 

“I am, I am,” his eyes were screwed up tight, his hands fisting the bed sheets in an effort to control himself and not come straight away. The fact that it was you doing this to him, controlling the speed and pressure, forcing him to take it made him drown in pleasure. 

“So good.” You purred, unable to choose on whether to watch his achingly beautiful face as he moaned, his weeping cock jump as you pushed further in, or his greedy hole taking everything you gave. 

“Your good boy, fuck,” he groaned especially loudly as you filled him completely. The silicon balls at the base hitting against his skin. 

“My good boy.” You whispered as you were unable to resist pressing on the suction bottom, ever so slightly changing the angle. 

“Shiiit!” Steven bucked upwards, his body seizing like he had been electrocuted as molten pleasure ran up his spine. 

You flinched your hand away, worried for a second that you had hurt him. 

“Again, again, oh please, that was the right spot, please,” he rambled, all his words running together. 

You pushed against the bottom of the dildo again, not letting up on the pressure this time as you wiggled it a little from side to side. 

Steven moaned so loudly you were sure half of London heard him. Rocking into your movements with a frenzied vigour. A constant string of expletives and nonsense words falling out of his lips. 

“Tell me I’m good,” he managed to stammer out between gasps, sweat beading on his forehead and sticking his hair to his skin. 

You leant closer to him, keeping up your pressured movement on the dildo. “You’re good Steven, so good. Letting me fuck you like this, letting me fill you up. Taking it all for me.”

“All for you.” He gasped again as you continued to hit his prostate. He moaned your name loudly, and then wined, “I need you to fuck me.” 

It took you a second for your brain to catch up with his words, to focus on anything but his face as he moaned. 

A second too long for Steven’s liking. 

He sat up, grabbing hold of your hips and pulled you towards him until your clit was pressed firmly against the base of the dildo inside of him. He groaned loudly at the pressure as you gasped at the sudden sensation, before he fell back onto the mattress. 

He bucked his hips, rubbing the base perfectly against you. “Please, fuck me.” His voice was completely wrecked, his eyes pleading and it was as if your body simply took over. 

You grabbed hold of his thighs pulling them over your hips and pushed your pubic bone against the dildo’s base, rutting against him. 

Steven gasped, rocking upwards to meet your movements as he started to become truly lost in the sensations. 

You rubbed against him relentlessly, hard and fast. Your clit grinding against the base, catching deliciously against the edge with every roll and thrust. It was like it was your dick inside of him, like you could almost feel him twitch and squeeze against you as you moved like you were possessed. 

Pleasure was building so quickly in your stomach, wetness leaking out from your pussy and coating your thighs. Your legs burned from the position, but it just was too good to change. Every rub against your clit bringing you closer, and closer to the edge.

Steven’s eyes suddenly shot open, “oh fuck, love, I’m going to-” his moan cut himself off as he came suddenly, spirting hot, thick come all over his stomach and chest. 

You growled and thrusted harder, fucking him through his orgasm for all you were worth. Wanting to fuck every single drop out of him. 

He rolled his hips back at you, his head thrown back exposing his neck and your orgasm hits you hard. It punches the air out of your lungs and for a second you can’t see anything, can’t feel anything except for the pleasure overwhelming your senses. 

Your hips slow and stop as you nearly fall forward on top of him, managing to catch yourself at the last second. 

Steven is watching you, his expression dreamlike as he breathes heavily. 

You kiss him roughly, forcing your tongue into his mouth until he is moaning against you, pulling at your shoulders for more. 

He kisses you back with equal energy, working his tongue against yours as if he could make you come again just from a kiss. 

You finally pull away to breathe, your legs are jelly like, shaking as you move to the side and grab some tissue from the box on the bedside table. 

Steven smiles at you as you turn back and carefully wipe up most of the cum from his skin. You’ll both have to shower, that was for certain. But that could wait for a minute. 

“Do you want me to take it out?” You ask, surprised at the exhaustion in your voice.

Steven shakes his head. “Not yet, but can you hug me please?” He asks a little shyly, as if you both haven’t just come so hard that you saw stars. 

You quickly fall into his embrace, wrapping your arms around him and kissing all over his face until he laughs. 

“Was that,” he swallows a little, not looking at you as anxiety creeps in. “Was that okay?” 

“Steven,” you touch his cheek, urging him to move to look at you before you kiss him lightly. “More than okay, fucking amazing.” 

He grins. “Okay, good, aces.” 

You chuckle, laying your head down to rest against his shoulder. 

There is silence for a moment as you both hold each other, sweat cooling on your bodies. 

“Maybe we could get you a strap on?” He asks, with such genuine sincerity. 

You laugh again and nod eagerly. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” he squeezes you tight and mumbles into your forehead. “I would too.” 

____________________________________

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[sky-kiss]

Drink

A/n: I got nothing. I don't know. This is nothing. This is like. Minor lactation kink and some conversation lol. Everything is going under the cut. Here. Have his smug face as my penance.

R/D!Urge: Drink

“Your son was not hungry.” 

There’s an archness to her tone that causes Raphael to lift his head. The duchess lingers near the edge of his vision, a conspicuous distance kept between them. Vanity has kept her from his bed and out of his company; he does not miss the excess fabric draped across her form, designed to hide the extra weight and the heaviness of her breasts. 

The body did not feel like her own, she’d admitted once, head held high. Daring him to argue, perhaps hoping he might. He had no interest in the conversation one way or another.

“This is of interest to me?” 

Joi frowns, gaze dropping. He will not say she is diminished, but there is somehow…a shift---in her bearing, in her essence. She was much the same in the months following their daughter’s birth. Discomforted and robbed of her self-possession, hormones and exhaustion forming some wretched amalgamation. He sees the ragged seams of her fraying control, places where he might hook his fingers and pull. And worse, he thinks she could not muster the energy to stop him. She hugs his stolen robe more tightly about herself. “Please, Raphael. For once, no games.” 

“No games, no whimsy…how tiresome.” He leans back in his seat, folding his hands over his stomach. “Come.” 

The duchess crosses to him, and it occurs to him again how little he likes her like this---this dour little thing. She settles across his lap, wincing as she adjusts herself. The boy…the prince, he amends, had not come into the world as delicately as his sister. It’d taken days to clear the stench of blood from the boudoir. 

His sorceress leans her head against his chin, grumbling and drawing his arms around her. Raphael plucks at the robe’s tie. “Why have you come, pet?” 

She huffs, “Am I no longer welcome in your boudoir, my duke?” 

“You seemed happy enough to keep your own company.” 

Joi pinched the back of his hand. “Your son, your heir, needed me.” 

“The princess is my heir. The boy…” 

“Raphael.” Her tone is softer than he expects, not the righteous fury he hopes to elicit. Too tired, no games, no sport. “Please.” She leads his hand to her breast, heat radiating from the milk-swollen flesh. He pushes the robe apart. The nipple is badly chafed, reddened, and oversensitive. “As I said…your son would not drink.” 

“Haarlep would leap at the chance to relieve you.” 

“Haarlep,” his duchess purrs, fingers stroking back through his hair, scraping across his scalp. “Is no king. My body bore princes and princesses…should it nourish him?”

The devil chuckles, lifting her from his lap and onto his desk. “Oh, wicked thing. A fair point.”

She winces when he spreads her legs. He shifts to his human form in a fit of deference, holding her knees tight to his side. Raphael acts with uncharacteristic care, bowing her back. The devil presses a kiss to her sternum, cupping her right breast to relieve the pressure before suckling.

Her hand moves to the back of his neck, holding him in place. Joi’s sigh borders on rapturous relief rather than pleasure. He finds himself cataloging these noises, each one fascinating: a scrape of teeth and she hisses; more direct pressure and she’ll squeeze her legs around him. It’s best to press the flat of his tongue to her skin, open-mouthed and indirect, and then she makes such pretty noises. So sweet. 

He presses his hand between her shoulder blades, exaggerating the bow of her back. He sucks a bruise into the rise of her breast before shifting his attention to the left, repeating the process. She’s slackened in his arms, relaxing into his touch now that the worst of her discomfort has passed. 

Raphael swallows, pulling back to admire his work. He wipes a stray bead of milk with his thumb, bringing it to his lips to lick it clean. His duchess shivers, staring at him with wide, hungry eyes, mouth still partially slack. 

He kisses her, letting her taste herself on his tongue, slow and languid. 

And when all is said and done, Joi presses him back into his seat. His duchess sinks to her knees with neither comment nor complaint, only a delicious look of self-satisfaction, hunger she longs to satiate. 

Far be it from him to deny her. 

[vllergy]

painkillers

vesen request, 2.1 k, cold fic ty to @scatter-snz for this elite prompt i hope this is what u had in mind!!! jin-young is a cop (he has the kink because of who i am as a person) vesen is a big tall hot alien assassin aliens and humans are working together but it's still pretty new and things are awkward jin and vesen 100% fall in love with each other eventually that's basically all you need to know

It's Jin's first day being back after a record two days off. In his six years on the force, he can't remember the last time he took actual sick leave. To be fair, he doesn't get sick that often and when he does, he's aways been the type to grin and bear it. Part upbringing, part police conditioning. If you're not dead, you're fit to serve. Or at least that's the way it always has been. The Kheelen changed that. Human officers aren't spread thin these days due to the partnering initiative. So his cases that would have once fallen to the wayside in his absence now fall to his partner, Vesen. And he's expected to trust that his taciturn, ill-mannered Kheelen counterpart can handle that shit on his own when Jin is otherwise indisposed.

For the most part, Jin does. Vesen may be an ass, but he's a competent investigator. Unfortunately, he and Jin's methods when it comes to gathering information are still wildly disparate. Something he knew, but didn't truly understand the consequences of until now as he sits across their latest subject in the interrogation room.

In the two days Jin took to nurse the cold from hell, it seems Vesen has taken it upon himself to put the fear of God into this man.

The man is visibly sweating. His eyes are only focused on Jin, though every so often they twitch Vesen's direction only to snap back as if his very image is a chemical burn. His cuffed hands tremble on the steel surface of the table and he picks at his cuticles the longer they sit there. Jin doesn't blame him, necessarily. Vesen is, objectively, terrifying. Even just sitting like this you can tell he's the apex predator in the room. He's so much bigger than both Jin and the other man--he overpowers the chair and the room itself, looking comically oversized for the entire thing. Jin thinks all the Kheelen look a little silly in the human precinct, actually. Crunching themselves into tiny desks, massive hands cupping small coffee mugs, ducking under doorways--it'd be laughable if they weren't all sure the Kheelen would crush their skulls for even a giggle about it. Jin sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Intimidating is usually an advantage in an interrogation, but whatever Vesen's done to this guy over the past two days has pushed it over the line. He's not just intimidated, he's shitting his pants. There's no way they're getting through to him now. And frankly? Jin is too tired to rectify the situation. He's still not feeling great. His head is fuzzy and dulled, his painkillers are wearing off, and part of him knows he should be back in bed. But he's legitimately worried Vesen will frighten this man to death if he leaves him alone with him for any longer, and that's a bad look for everyone. Sniffing softly, Jin blinks and tries another tactic. "We want to help you, Anish."

Vesen scoffs at this, and Jin just barely manages not to roll his eyes. "But you have to give us something to work with," he continues.

Anish shivers and shakes his head, "It doesn't matter! You know it doesn't! These bastards are taking over and they're just pretending to play nice until they don't have to anymore." Oh boy, here we go. Vesen's hackles rise, just as Jin expects. The alien leans forward, a muscle in his jaw jumping. Artificial light flickers over his lilac skin and makes his dark hair shine like ink. "You dare insinuiate my people are not here out of good faith?" he hisses, sharp canines flashing, "When you are accused of aiding in a terrorist attack against them?" Jin reaches out for his arm. Down, boy. His fingers drift over steel muscle beneath Vesen's uniform as he tries to tug him back into his seat. He's about to say something to try and reign him in when he realizes with sudden horror that he's about to sneeze instead. "Hhh?" He quickly turns away, angling himself away from the table and steepling his hands over his nose and mouth. His eyebrows crash together as an embarrassingly sharp breath snags in his lungs before-- "chhSH’iew!!"

And it's never just one. "CHshISHh’iu!"

Two is actually pretty good for him, especially with this fucking cold. He gives a tentative sniffle before raising his head and clearing his throat. The tickle abates for the moment, but he can feel it buzzing dully in the back of his sinuses, tickling in the corners of his eyes. Ordinarily, he wouldn't care. Sneezing in public isn't his favorite thing, given how he feels about the activity in general, but he's never been good at stifling so it's not something that can be avoided. But sneezing in front of Vesen is a new hell in and of itself. Without even looking, he can feel the intensity of his partner's gaze on him and it makes heat begin to crawl up his throat. Fucking hell. "Excuse me," he says with a soft sniff and clears his throat again.

At the very least, he's dispelled the tension. "Arguing about who started what or whose intentions are genuine isn't going to get us anywhere. So let's not even get into that," he says, sending Vesen a warning glance. Vesen, he suddenly notes, is staring directly at his nose. For some reason that revelation sets off a nuclear detonation in Jin's lower belly and all the blood in his body rushes south. Self-consciously, Jin rubs at his nostrils and tries to think about anything else. But that only aggravates the dormant tickle, and he has to press his tongue to the roof of his mouth to curb the impulse. "Fine," Vesen hisses, turning his eyes back to Anish, "Then let us stick to the facts." Anish gulps. Jin strokes a finger down the datapad in front of him, bringing up a few files. They could pin Anish with his money transfer trail. Or his text messages. He and Vesen haven't which way they were going to do this--they hardly ever agree anyway--but he shifts the pad closer to his partner so that he can look too. "The facts are, you are a coward, Anish," Vesen suddenly purrs, "And you will not survive a week in prison if I put you there." Jin could strangle him. He does roll his eyes this time and looks toward the ceiling, as if asking some higher power for the strength not to. "What my partner means is that you nee--" The bright lights overhead tease the last bit of the tickle out at the most inopportune time. The fuzzy, static feeling inside his head snaps like someone struck a bolt of lightning into the middle of his face. He whips to the side, his elbow in front of him and his hand braced on his opposite shoulder. "Hh--excuse meehh'IIsHH!"

He mists the inside of his elbow, shakes his head softly and then gears up for another. His breath stumbles, eyelashes fluttering. "Are you going to continue sneezing?" Vesen deadpans. "Hhhuh?" Jin blinks blearily, his cheeks going red as he tries--unsuccessfully--to pinch off the next one, "nnTTchSHH'iu!"

"Madrax. What is that inane human saying? Bless you, Jin-young."

Vesen stands as Jin pulls a crumpled tissue from his pocket and tends to his nose. In the next second, he feels his collar being tugged and himself yanked up from his chair. Feet stumbling under him, he struggles to get his balance for a moment until Vesen's large hand steadies him at the small of his back. Vesen's low voice simmers with what sounds distinctly like a threat, "We will return, Anish. Make yourself comfortable."

Then, before Jin knows what's happening, he's being guided out of the interrogation room and back into the hall. The door shuts and Vesen's hand retreats from his back. In a moment, the alien is towering before him, arms crossed over his broad chest and staring down imperiously at him. "Jin-young," he says disapprovingly. Jin blows his nose softly and retrieves another crumpled tissue. "Vesen."

"You are still ill." "I'm on the tail end of it."

"I do not wish to work with you when you are not well."

Jin scoffs, dabbing at his red nostrils, "I thought the Kheelen didn't get sick. I'm pretty sure you can't catch this."

"It is not my well-being I am concerned for."

Jin's eyebrows shoot skyward. Vesen, concerned for someone besides himself? No fucking way. He might have said as much if his nostrils didn't suddenly swell double. He crushes the tissue to his nose and mouth to muffle a tired sneeze.

"hdj'SHMMf!!"

"Bless you."

Jin blinked and gasped, "Hh'chhmpf!"

"Bless you."

Jin adjusts the tissue to try and find a dry spot, missing the next sneeze entirely and directing it to the floor. "You don't have to say it every ti-hiime--hhCH'ISSH'iu!"

"And why not? Bless you. You said it is something humans say when another sneezes. You are sneezing, are you not?"

Jin blushes darkly as he attends to his nose. Does Vesen have any idea what he was doing to him? Clearly not, or else he'd be raking him over the fucking coals for it. But somehow him being oblivious is making it so much worse. "Look who's suddenly so concerned over human-Kheelen relations," Jin gripes hoarsely, trying desperately to deflect. Anything to stop talking about him sneezing and Vesen blessing him. He'd rather be waterboarded. "You should go home, Jin-young." "And leave you to eat our sole witness alive? I don't think so." Vesen bristled, "You doubt my abilities."

"If we were torturing the guy? Not for a second. But we're trying to get him to talk to us, Ves." "Ah yes, and sneezing at him incessantly is doing the job just as well. Perhaps there is some merit to that," Vesen leans forward, grinning, "You look so unspeakably pathetic that he might take pity on you and finally tell us the truth."

Jin tosses his sodden tissues in the nearby wastebin and scrubs at his face.

"Fuck you," he groans, "Can we just go back and get this over with?"

"No, you are going home."

Vesen grabs his upper arm, his grip like a vice. Jin never really forgets how strong the Kheelen are, but every so often a brazen display hubles him completely. Vesen steers him effortlessly back down the hall without any hope of him struggling against him. "Wait, Vesen, c'mon--" He struggles anyway, just on principle. But a moment later he yanks on his grip unintentionally as he wrenches away from him with another ill-timed sneeze. "Hh'CHISSihuh!" He nearly bends double on that one and Vesen abruptly pulls him to a stop. The alien holds fast to his arm as if he can sense that Jin is going to lose his balance if he's not tethered to anything. "hah'hhCHHishh! iSSCchuh!" His ears begin to ring. Distantly, he's aware of Vesen's other hand bracing against his shoulder. That second point of contact sets his blood on fire. Before he can think too hard about that, another sneeze tickles the inside of his sinuses and he attempts to smother it with his free hand, "PpshhiSHHch!"

"Bless you," Vesen sighs as Jin straightens back up wearily, "Are you finished?"

"Yes," Jin lies and then shakes his head rapidly, turning away and pinching his nose between his thumb and forefinger, "NnghsSHH'iu!"

Vesen taps his shoulder. It almost feels...sympathetic?

"Go home, Jin-young. I will wait until you are well again to interrogate our witness."

Jin sniffles and glances up with watering eyes. "W-wait, really?" It's an unexpected gesture of charity from Vesen who has been historically uncharitable all the time he's known him. He narrows his glassy eyes, skeptical. Or at least, he tries to look skeptical despite the fact that his heart is in his throat because Vesen is still holding onto him and just watched him sneeze his head off with rapt, disgustingly erotic attention. "What's the catch?" "There is no catch. Just go before I lose my patience," Vesen said.

Jin knows better than to argue with that. Vesen is someone who loses his patience extraordinarily quickly, and it's never pretty. If he's giving him an out, Jin might as well take it.

Sniffling, Jin nods and gives him a tiny salute, "Thanks, Ves."

Vesen finally lets go of him. He grunts in response, gives him one last unreadable glance, and then turns on his heel. Before Jin can say anything else, his impossibly tall figure disappears back down the hall towards the interrogation room.

Jin isn't totally sure, but he thinks Vesen might not be such a bad guy after all.

That, and he's suddenly unreasonably horny.

[bts5sosempire]

the tyrant (v)

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sukuna ryomen x reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4,150

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: old time period, mention of arranged marriage, polygamous marriages, slow-burn yandere, power imbalances, peer pressure, gaslighting, mention of manipulation, dark content, slight-NSFW (tw: non-con), MDI, Dickuna, please read at your own discretion

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: "you were the apple of Sukuna's eyes, the one who brought him solace and everything. The only thing you were incapable of was giving him a child, an heir he wished to spoil like he did to you."

𝐚/𝐧: holy crap, I've been bugging and got writer's block from this for the longest time. But it is done at last; been trying to angle where I should go from here. Since I barely wrote any nsfw or anything remotely related to that, I hope this doesn't get flagged cuz I would deadass scream. Btw, thank you to those that waited for so long when I went into my MIA mode 🥲❤️. Likes, comments, and reblogs are helpful too, and have a nice day lovelies! 🥳 (pls lemme know in the "comment" section below for tagging.)

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

After the incident, you told Sukuna that he wouldn't stifle you. As for Suguru's situation, you couldn't make an explicit assumption; for all you know, it was a warning to you both. Suguru is your faraway dream, and you were his too. Another part you know is that killing Suguru would be like child's play, but it wouldn't look good on Sukuna unless he starts undermining Suguru with hidden intentions. You don't wish for Suguru to be harmed in any way; even the thought of it sends your heart lurching in heartache.

You shift under your seat as the cold air bites your face. It was early in the morning when Sukuna had taken you out for a morning hunt. Everything was set up the previous day before. Sukuna had even invited a handful of Lords to hunt with him, to form connections. He also thought it would be good for you as you have locked yourself away in your room for days after the banquet; he thinks it's childish whenever you would do that to avoid his confronting nature. You could care less about what he feels at this point.

Fiddling with your bangle inside the muff, you twist and turn the familiar jeweled gift. Then there's your Aunt; the pressure from her was also getting to you. Selfish is the best word to describe her; a bitter feeling of resentment starts to form within your chest as you have come to accept the view you have of her. Your Aunt Setsuko and Sukuna aren't that much of a discrepancy; both set out to use people as they see fit in their agenda.

Your attention was brought back when the sound of horses' hooves and men urging their steed to go faster descended from the hills. A jackal was running rapidly, with hounds chasing after their tail. An arrow whizz past and almost hits the animal as it sidesteps to the side to avoid it. Sukuna was leading, riding the red steed that dashes across the dewy and chilly plain. Sukuna raises the bow with steady arms and hands, his uncanny eyes trained on the animal before releasing the string. The arrow hits the jackal as it staggers forward, rolling a few times against the ground as the hounds pounce to keep it dead and still.

Everyone congratulates Sukuna for being keen eyes as they all slow their horses down to an ambling pace. Servants quickly swept the hounds aside and picked up the now-dead animal, and hurried off to deal with it. Sukuna basked in the attention he was given, accepting them before brushing off the other minor and major lords. He pulls the rein of the horse in your tent's direction.

Rising from your seat, two maids appeared to assist you by holding your forearms as you carefully stepped off the heated coal pots placed underneath your feet to keep them warm. Seiin, the firey steed notice you and picks up its speed to hurry on over. The horse was a gift for your congratulatory wedding from your clan. Seiin was only one of the few red steeds born and raised on your farm; considering it's a scarce breed, Seiin was above average from a normal war horse. They were a total upgrade. It could outpace any horse for hours, and its stamina was limitless since it brought Sukuna's never-ending winning of conquering lands and people alike. You almost forgot that each clan member ran a different course for bribery. Your father used to run a ranch for breeding war horses (now it falls to you). Once your wedding with Sukuna happened, your Aunt deliberately solidified the pact and decided to trade the horses for power without consulting with you first.

When Seiin was near enough, Sukuna hopped off the horse. Seiin snorted as it impatiently wanted you to pet its snout and brush its dark red hair. You pull out a hand from the muff and caress a pointer to the length of Seiin's nose; they nuzzle their face closer. The equine sure is spoiled. You don't remember them being this double in size and height.

"Took a long time to get this steed to obey me," Sukuna starts, and you only pay attention to him for a fraction with your eyes before flicking them away to the horse again. The story of how Sukuna gets Seiin was funny; it almost made you think that the War Demon couldn't tame a beast. Seiin was probably secretly a mule in disguise; they hated any rider or person who attempted to claim them; they're more familiar with you out of everyone. When Seiin was presented to Sukuna, it was on sight for the horse to run him over and stomp its hooves on the ground to scare off Sukuna. It was futile since Sukuna was a person who loved challenges, and Seiin happened to present them to him.

All it took was a lot of being tied to the pole, brushed, fed, and given lots of freedom to stretch its legs daily, which spoiled the horse. Then it got its owner's temper, too; Seiin was Sukuna's pride.

"You have been in your room for a few weeks; what's so crucial that you have forbidden me? Is Suguru that important?" You slightly glare, "Also, that brat took longer to leave than usual." You could tell that Sukuna was trying to get a rise out of you, a bait for you to take. If you have taken it, it will bring endless hours to get him off your back. He moves fast with assumptions, and it's scarily accurate, too, with how he gathered information.

Turning away from Sukuna, you pat Seiin a few times, then return to your tent.

The reason why you have spent more time in your room is for a reason; you can't rely on anyone anymore. Not your Aunt Setsuko, who seems ready to abandon you if your final strike occurs, and you have to admit, the advantage of having Sukuna's affection starts to wear you thin. The harem is relentless in trying to remove you, and if that happens, then you're easily disposable. But they couldn't do that. It was known multiple times if you were gone, then the deal with both families would fall through, and trade would also cease to exist.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Yumi asks warily as you settle on wearing a man's clothes. You use the excuse of doing your charity work to go out for something you've been planning to do.

"If I don't do it now, when will I ever will? I didn't use all that time in my room reading and teaching me about politics and finances." Telling Yumi she couldn't argue back, not when concern always seems to paint her face these days. "Stall as long as you can," you order, adjusting the male hakama; you try to give off the air and posture of a man. "I'll try to be back before sundown."

Sliding the door open, Yuichi was outside; arms crossed as he awaited you.

You nudge with your head for him to follow you. When you both were outside the small rented compound you use for charity work, Yuichi cast you aside glance, "You told me to scout the area and ask for any willing participants if they're going to give up their property to you, and I found a few."

"You work fast," you inquire with a small smile, and Yuichi huffs his chest, proud of his work. "No spear today?" Yuichi never goes anywhere without his weapon, and today is a rare day.

"No need to for today, and I wanted to ask why you need an inn out of all places." The young man scratches his head behind you, "I mean, with your wealth and power, you could easily build or buy a better one."

You chuckle a bit, "My father used to tell me something interesting when I was a child, and today, I decided to put it to the test," looking at Yuichi, who peers down at you with curious eyes. "Are you familiar with how business people work?" Yuichi turned away, even more confused, as he wasn't well-versed or educated in an area that wasn't his expertise. "You know how when a robber or criminal is going to rob you, they always announce it and hold a weapon against you?" The man nodded, "But when it comes to business people, they'll steal it right before you without saying many things, even if you do or don't realize."

Yuichi: "So you're saying you're going to steal?"

You: "Do you consider being persuasive with words stealing?"

Yuichi: "I mean, it is under the pretense, so kind of, I guess?"

You laugh, "I'm going to make them give it to me; if not, I can always gamble it."

Yuichi did a double take, "You're scary when you want to be." The man didn't expect this from you, but he felt you change a little. Yuichi often spends time with you helping those who are in need, and seeing you taking charge of something for real is uncalled.

The both of you walk a bit further until you've reached a run-down inn. Seeing the worn-out sign of the inn's name hanging up at the entrance tells you how long it was in business. Stepping inside the inn, you could see the wooden beams and pillars were also worn out. There were chips here and there, and even the tables and chairs were old.

"Hello? Anyone?" Yuichi calls out into the empty room before someone emerges from the back. You assume it was the owner. They're in their mid-fifties when you could spot specks of grey in their dark hair and fine lines marring their tan face. The owner's eyes speak of years of hardship in this world. "You remember when I said I would bring a friend, right?"

"Go away; the place is not for sale." The owner motioned his arms to shoo you and Yuichi away.

"Business is not good, I'm assuming?" You question the owner while your eyes still trace around and find no soul or customer in the room.

"It is doing good, just that you're in the way." The owner bites back. He grabs a nearby broom and kicks your foot out of the way with it, and sweeps the front and entrance.

Yuichi leans over to you and whispers in your ear while his eyes linger on the old man, "How about we just go look at the other ones?"

Clicking your tongue, you brush him off, "Sir," you turn around to meet the older man with a smile and try to present an air of friendliness. "How about a game?" You're just going straight for the jugular at this point; no need to play coy, yet, with a stubborn man.

"Game? I don't have time for that," refusing you, you held your smile.

"Well, if you win, I won't bother you again, and it would be a shame if this place were to shut down. I could tell a lot of history and time were poured into this place. Not many know how to run an inn, let alone for more than several generations." Your words seem to catch their ears as you swipe a finger across a table, seeing grey coating your fingertip. "Also heard that if you fail to pay this month's rent, you'll be evicted." Innocently smiling, you could see the older man fuming, "Competition is sure rough around these parts, isn't it?"

Old man: "Who are you?"

You: "A buyer. A renter, of course."

"You know a lot more than you let on," The man-trained eyes pierced your own; he couldn't read your orbs. "Then I'll entertain you as long as you're out of my hair."

Conversing with the man, you and he repeatedly placed the black-and-white pieces of smooth small stones on the board until it was nearly filled. Yuichi, who was watching from the side with his eyes zoning onto the Go board, then it flicked back and forth in between you and the older man.

"Ah! I give up! Name your price," the owner fickled out and grabbed a nearby heated pot, and poured himself a drink. He was trying to calm that irregular heart of his that could lead to a potential heart attack.

You trace the board and see how the majority of your white pieces were constantly surrounding and consuming his black pieces. The man was already defeated ten different times, but you just prolonged it. You must thank Sukuna for teaching you (not like you're ever going to) if he wasn't pestering you when he had nothing else to do. The game Go was introduced to Sukuna by the Chinese who came to do trading, and Sukuna, who has a penchant for mind-stimulating things, didn't hesitate to take it. The man didn't regret it; if not, he put all his war tactics and strategies onto that board when playing against the Chinese traders and conquering them as if it was a real battle.

"I won't directly buy the place; if renting would suffice you. You would still be the owner, but co-owner, at least." The man was about to speak up, but you raised a hand, saying you're not done. "I'm looking into putting interest and investing," standing up from your seat, you examine many things in the room. "But to do that, we need to start working from the bottom and up. We are not going to get rid of everything, but we could still keep the rustic feeling this place have. This place needs major improvement."

After going over things with them, you could tell that they were much more relaxed, not by a lot, although.

"I won't always be able to come and check up on this place; I'll be sending-" patting Yuichi's chest with a few hits; he didn't expect that, "-this guy in my stead along with a letter of instructions of how to keep this place afloat. I'll also desire a report from you too, sir."

"Taiju. Taiju Mori." Finally introduced himself, and you nodded in acknowledgment.

"As your employer, Seijuro Hajime, it's nice meeting you," telling him your alias, you headed off with Yuichi.

Once you're at a distance, Yuichi stops in front of you. "Now I'm your messenger?" He asks in disbelief when pointing at himself, as he can't believe all the roles you're giving him. "You know I am-"

Cutting Yuichi off, you told him, "You're being paid for your hard work with free lodging at the inn, also with the all-you-can-eat-and-drink too."

Yuichi: "Sold."

You laugh, and that shuts him up quickly. Before you can enjoy your outing more, the shadow becomes longer and darker, with the night coming faster along the chilly winds. The burnt orange sky is cast above the horizon with the setting sun. Patrol guards were roaming out in the streets now to switch their routines. "We have to hurry back." Around this time is when Sukuna usually sends guards from the castle to escort you back home too.

Sukuna has just come back from one of his concubine's rooms. For they have just successfully given birth to his child, he was there to name them. Roaming the hall, he noticed that your quarter was quiet when he came across, "Has Lady (Name) not home yet?" The surrounding servants and guards shook their heads rapidly, indicating a 'no' as they were afraid to look him in the eyes.

It wasn't until you came into view the retainers finally let out a sigh of relief. "My Lady!" They shout in unison, one after another. You try not to let your discomfort and hostility show when you spot Sukuna, and the man notices how your eyes seem to harden. He smiles at that.

"You came back later than usual (Name)," Sukuna then waved a hand, "you all are dismissed; I wish to be alone with my wife." All the servants nodded once and single-file out of your quarter to idle on another job or chore, waiting for them. Yumi was the last one to leave. "I've missed you ever since you left me this morning at the hunting ground," he proclaimed, taking long strides to reach you, and you steel yourself when Sukuna suddenly wrapped his arms around you. "Be a dear and entertain me tonight, would you?"

Ripping yourself from his hold, your eyes quiver with rage. "I'm not your womb breeder nor your cunt warmer," sneering at him, Sukuna let out a breathy laugh.

"I thought you had lost your fire for a moment," he moves a hand to caress your face you slap it away harshly.

You: "Don't touch me."

Sukuna's displeasure was partially showing, and before you could react any further, he held both sides of your face, "I've been very patient with you." Rapid as lightning, he brought his lips onto yours, and your eyes widened in surprise. You are tugging and trying to pull yourself away from him, but he grips your face even tighter than before. The taste of lingering sweet and bitter alcohol from Sukuna's tongue attaches to your tongue too. Both yours and his feet were awkwardly dancing around to find proper footing as you swerved and hit a wall. Sukuna takes the leisure of your gasping moment, the need for air to implore more of your cavern as he trails one hand down your face, then it once again snakes around your waist.

Pulling you close as possible, he grips the obi sash. "I'm not going to take a no from you," he spoke in between the kisses, and he hoisted you by the waist and quickly took you to your room with you protesting and screaming obscenities at him.

Your people rounded the corner, popping their heads to see just in time for the outer layer of Sukuna's hakama floating through the air before it was cut off by your door slamming shut and echoing in the hallways. They had never seen Sukuna act like this before; for all they knew, it was always being sweet towards you, but seeing how rambunctious their master was made everyone's mouths open in disbelief.

Meanwhile...

Around the same time, it was time for the evening lunch for everyone. With your and Sukuna's empty seat, Eisha asks a nearby manservant, "Where is the Lord and Lady (Name)?"

The manservant was hesitant to say anything as they opened their mouth a few times before uttering a sentence. "T-The Lord and Lady (Name) won't be dining tonight." Eisha raised her brow, and the man inch closer until he was whispering to her what was going on, and Eisha balled her fists. Fits of jealousy and anger slowly drown her. Masking her face with a look of understanding, she dismisses him, and they quickly wait on the sideline.

"Everyone, it seems like we will be dining without Lord Sukuna and Lady (Name)." A murmur of slight groans and agitation filled the air. Eisha picked up her pair of chopsticks, and the rest followed suit.

Back to you...after a few hours

Sukuna pinned you beneath him; his callous hand had both your wrists bound above your head while one tightly gripped your sweltering hip. Your face was flushed, and your chest was heaving out of breath, but you were stubborn in not making any noises. Sukuna, although successfully tearing one or two or more out of you. You were quick to shut up by biting your lips until you felt they were bleeding.

Sweat trickled down his body and dropped onto yours as he felt another one coming close, and so did yours; Sukuna lost track of time when the sun disappeared, and the full moon rose high in the night sky.

Rutting into you like you both were the only ones in the world, Sukuna tried to prolong the upcoming orgasm as long as possible, but it was inevitable. The fire in your belly was about to erupt again, and you knew. Trying to squirm away, Sukuna grunts out for you to stay still as he tries to chase after his high and make yours come along with his when he starts to pace himself faster.

You hate it when he keeps brushing your sensitive spot, abusing it to no end, and your sanity waning each time. So you turn your head to the side to hide. He already attained it with his fingers to prepare you, and now he is plowing you like an open field in different ways.

Sukuna suddenly stutters his hip forward to meet yours, and you yelp when your thighs tense up and enclose his well-defined waistline. He lets out a throaty and breathy groan when finally filling you up again with your walls gripping his shaft.

Letting go of your wrists, Sukuna stilled for a moment before getting off you and seeing how soiled the futon was from the love-making. You had your eyes close; brows pinched together. Whether it was from trying to regain yourself or you being angry for letting this happen, Sukuna saw how your emotions were all over the place—the aftermath of all.

He combed a hand through his slick, drenched hair; the scent of two body that was once conjoined still permeates through the atmosphere. "Grab me and Lady (Name) some refreshments," Sukuna demands, many feet shifting outside the screen door; after a rendezvous, he feels an appetite for his pipe too.

"Get out," you speak up, voice rather tired.

"Not until you're properly taken care of," Sukuna threw your nagujaban on top of you before grabbing and wearing his own.

"My Lord," a muffled voice was heard outside, and Sukuna went to slide the door a fraction. He grabs the refreshments and uses his frame to block out any onlookers before closing the door with a snap shut.

You viciously avoided Sukuna to prevent yourself from doing something stupid like wringing his neck or poisoning his food. To keep yourself busy, you had often gone out more and kept tabs on the inn as it made progress on attracting more customers and former locals.

You were thinking about improving the inn more until an ingratiating voice appeared behind you.

"Ah, I thought it was Concubine Sei, but it's only you, Lady (Name)," you turn around to meet the lavender eyes of Concubine Sena, who is holding a newborn in her arms with a sardonic grin. She hushes the squirming child and pats its bottom. "Don't know why Lord Sukuna kept you around when you can't produce him an heir. I'm starting to think that you're a barren woman."

You only chide with a side smirk. Out of all the concubines who would talk back to you is Concubine Sena. "I'm glad you finally developed awareness or critical thinking; tell me something I don't know." That wipe off the smirk from his face quickly. "I was almost worried for a second if you're going to be like me, childless too, but fate had decided to bestow you a second child."

Sena: "What are you inquiring about? Are you cursing my child? Lord Sukuna would hear from me about you cursing my son!"

Sniggering at her with a laugh, you brought up a hand to hide the laughter before continuing, "I wasn't going to stoop this low, but I'll say it since I'm feeling petty and far from my acting like a (Surname) clanswoman," taking a step closer to her until she feels threatened, Sena held her son tightly and close to her chest. "Hope that your child here lives passed three moons, unlike your first one, don't want history to repeat itself since your Hanamiya women are reputable for bad luck."

"How dare you!" Sena seeth out, "Servants! Held down this woman and slapped her foul mouth!" A few made advances, but you cut it short.

"Touch me and see what happens when Lord Sukuna finds out." They all stumble in their steps and refuse to take another out of fear, "I may not share the same affections he has for me, but I am very much favor unlike you." Then your face changes instantly, cold and calculating. "How long have you been wanting him but still haven't got it? We both arrived and married Sukuna at the same time at the tender age of eighteen, and his eyes are always on me." Feigning a sad expression, you place a hand on your chest, depicting a wound over your heart. "How sad you'll always come second to me."

Sometimes you don't like using Sukuna's name aimlessly like this, but it's worth it to make them or anyone like Sena back off.

After all, you have elsewhere to be and time better spent on.

••••

Taglist: @sukunasobject @lilliansstuff @lucyrocks86 @ladywolf44005 @watyousayin @sandronebabyy @pinkrose1422 @skepticalleo @please-help-therapy-needed @whatsonthemirror @krispsprite @loser-alert @saturnknows @samidrc @littlemochi @akigoat @mxghostbee @rose4958 @shadowywizardarcade @huicitawrites @baji-keisukes-wife @choso-wifey @jovialeggsbailiffsoul @sanderaen @peonnnny @tiredlattes @waytomanyhusbands @whatamidoing89 @utena-akashiya @outrofenty @welcometodemonschoolfan @im-a-killer-queen

[williaml0ver]

FIRST KISSES WITH GANJI MAYBE?!?!?

☆ <3 Kisses with Ganji Gupta ☆ <3

[🖇️] word count: 1089

[🖇️] warnings: g/n reader, angst to comfort, fluff, touch starved Ganji, kith kith

[🖇️] author's note: i can't believe i posted two fics in a span of two days hello?? Anyways thank you so much for this lovely request pookie, i'm sorry for this being shorter than my usual lenght for posts :( i would steal a horse for you if you told me to 🫂 GANJI NATION RISE. I love this boy so much omg....

☆ ☆ ☆

-Ganji particularly strikes me as the type of a lover who may struggle with showing affection through physical touch at first. But when he becomes used to it, realizes he likes it? He'd be obsessed!

-At first, his way of proving his love is simply being there for you. Listening to your thoughts, confessions and rants, making sure you're aware your opinion matters to him. You matter to him.

-He'd overall prefer for his love to know that they have a trustworthy, capable of protecting man you could always lean on when in need.

-For Ganji, this looks like a perfect stance to take. You will feel safe, loved and comforted, yes?

-This in fact, does can lead to a missunderstanding, especially if you're really fond of physical touch in your relationship. But what you cannot do is blame Ganji. He was a boy raised in solitude, someone who was taken advantage of and mistreated. Love is still a fairly foreign thing for him.

-Something shifts deep inside the batter when you two become a thing, he just doesn't know what exactly yet. He's new to this... feeling, he isn't sure what is he supposed to provide for you.

-Even if you don't resemble a person who finds happiness in taking the lead, you should direct him a little. Just be honest and voice your needs. He may have troubles with opening up to you - he doesn't want you to worry, but he will open up if you reassure him that you want to be a safe space for your boyfriend.

-Don't get it wrong, if you hugged him in his or your room, he would act awkward but wouldn't push you away.

-The direct affection is rather one sided at the start. Ganji accepts, but does not initiate at all.

-But near someone? He wouldn't push you away either, but he'd show clear signs of discomfort. He's not ready for public displays of affection just yet. He wants to be treated seriously by other survivors, in fact, he does enjoy how some avoid him and fear him.

-You have to get to know him before.

-When it comes to touching, start slowly. Don't demand things too fast. Let Ganji adaptate in slow, little steps. He'd feel mostly overwhelmed if you decide to let out all your love inside you all at once.

-All those small things, like you insisting on gentle hand holding, hair petting, make Ganji's senses wake up from deep slumber. He wants to protect you, but he also begins to want to experience the feeling of safeness.

-He suddenly starts waiting for your small touches. After matches, he mindlessly comes to you and desires to be held, comforted. He doesn't know why. It just feels right, feels good.

-It does make him feel better and more open to closeness.

-One thing about Ganji, he struggles with expressing his cravings. He feels like he doesn't deserve anything. It really is a miracle you even wanted to treat such a monster as a lover.

-Step by step, you start being more intimate with him. He'd let you lay on him, grounding him when sleeping today.

-He wishes for more and more from you, but Ganji is afraid of it. What if you'll be dissapointed and think he's weak? The thought of you leaving terrifies his poor heart.

-At some point, to your surprise, he just breaks down. He's crying, hardly breathing and whimpering. All he ever wanted was to be loved.

-Please, wipe his tears away, comfort him, touch him. Ganji needs it more than ever.

-Not putting much thought into it, you kiss the batter on his lips. It activates something in both of you. Yes, you've exchanged touches before, but this one feels so deeply personal. It makes your relationship, Ganji feel... complete.

-Everything he ever defended, protected, fought for... that one moment made the pain worth it all.

-That one kiss resulted in a big explosion of Ganji's wild passion towards your person. He is now allowed to shower you with something he longed to do ever since you met, but had to bottle it up.

-Ganji takes kisses very seriously. He'd feel honoured if his lover wanted to do it.

-No one ever made him feel so flustered.

-He was so passionate. You were the one to kiss him, but he quickly took control of the kiss. He's never done that before, but you felt otherwise. You've stayed this way for the next hour.

-You felt like you gave him the kiss of life. His eyes brightened up, his smile is wide, you felt like it's all Ganji's world and you're just living in it.

-Each kiss from him feels like it's his last meal on earth ever.

-He felt like a completely new person that day. You two were already very close, but his sudden burst of affection made your love go over to the roof. No, the stars above.

-Not long after, he starts treating you back with light caresses on your soft skin. Ganji doesn't even hide the fact that he is touch starved.

-He discovers he prefers showing you his devotion through touch, rather than doing it verbally.

-Make sure you kiss him goodnight and also for good luck in his matches <3

-You discovered it's easier to convince him with giving small kisses.

"Look, love, I could take you somewhere else, i'm not really a fan of cinema, you know?"

*kith kith noises*

"Oh... I... I mean, of course, I'd love to go."

-He's got a poker face for sure. It's sometimes hard for you to read him, imagine how difficult it has to be to other survivors...

-You noticed his face is actually very responsive during kissing time.

-You keep teasing him about blushing. He denies it all the time.

-You woke up from a nap? A kiss on your forehead. He heroically carried the entire match? Proud kisses on his mouth. Mind you, he's obssesed.

-He'd appreciate every kiss you offer. His personal favourite place to kiss you is on your cheeks, meanwhile you love to pamper his cleavage with kisses.

-Make sure to kiss his scars!!! Ganji is exceptionally insecure about them. Feeling your mouth on those little atrocities makes him feel loved for who he is, not for the scary persona he tries to become near people.

-Speaking of people, he surprisingly becomes very possesive. He doesn't mind PDA, in fact, he wants everyone to know that you're taken by the batter - Ganji Gupta.

☆ ☆ ☆

Take a look at this shrek plushie i've digged up in a thrift store lately... okay it's 2am goodnight guys

[crying-fantasies]

Rejection

"You have them on?"

"I do, I swear I have them, I just need to get this off-"

"Look me in the optics when you say that, you won't touch anything if your little freaky organic servos-!"

"I do, I do! Just, please, stop moving like that!", pleas are laced with desperation and righteous fury, one he wants to shred from your little mouth, but there is this tremor on his open armor that goes from helm to pedes when your little fingers wrapped in synthetic gloves roam on his bare protoform to take out shattered bullets, the sensation is ripping him apart between launching you out of the window and away from him or just stay still as Sideswipe looks at you both while grinning like a complete fragger or, worse, stay still and shut up before Ratchet finally snaps that wrench on his servo against his helm.

Mech, please no is what his new conscience pleads too and so he has to follow, be stiff and feel how your fingers move, shaking, finally being fast and sharp when Ratchet says your name like a stern mentor and pulling sharp fragments with the help of a little steel gadget.

He can't think of it, being totally honest it would be more like he isn't the one thinking of it but his brother, who looks with barely contained interest how you work, it's embarrassing how Sideswipe doesn't even try to cover the interest he has for you over Sunstreaker's open arm and moving like a new medic and is also dragging him in feeling the same, it's worse than his brother, since he can feel your absurd weight over him like a constant pang on the back of his processor, it's degrading, since Ratchet seem to know what is going on and can only look more tired than he already is and Sunstreaker's situation is getting worse because the last he needs is to have Ratchet asking what is going on!

But for Sideswipe things were getting back to normal, somehow.

"Hey there, Sunny! Here comes our team's best player!", Sideswipe has taken to hold you as if you were some kind of small animal or a stuffed one before letting you rest next to Sunstreaker, who frowned at you with all the fury on his massive body before directing it to his brother.

"Sides, I swear-"

"No, no, doc's order", he put you nearer to the yellow bot with a grin so wide, you wanted to throw your shoe to him, Ratchet isn't anywhere in sight but his mere name is the only thing keeping the brothers from destroying each other, "you shouldn't move, so our favorite human is here to help you rise to health again".

"Which piece of scrap metal said that?", When he gets better he will rip their arms from their frames.

"I don't know, everyone?", and obviously Sideswipe gets to ridicule him even more while pushing you nearer to his side.

You wanted to hide and escape, Sunstreaker wanted to punch his brother in the face.

But repetition makes everything fall to some routine, you're ready with your backpack full of books, homework and your reliable laptop when Sideswipe comes to pick you up and back to Sunstreaker resting body, the fear has lessened but is still very much alive, for now your best choice to avoid touching him directly is using blankets, but Sunstreaker is a high-end bot and your wallet is still bleeding from purchasing an obnoxious yellow cashmere blanket and another one of vicuna, which is made from an animal in verge of extinction just to know how expensive that one was too, that has taken most of your savings only to please him, he didn't even say thanks, just looked at it once before giving his approval with a nod, he didn't even talk or looked at you, always treating you like a nuisance he tolerated to please Sideswipe.

Before you should've looked at Sideswipe for help, but he beamed when you dragged the expensive and eye hurting piece of fabric on a big and equally eye-catching expensive bag and presented you with it to his brother and even into a zipper bag.

They were both in this, or more like Sideswipe was dragging Sunstreaker in the whole mess, like when you first meet them, and that was hell; at least the vicuna one was nice, just what you need to roll into in order to escape from any stress around.

Just like having someone, not bot, calling out your name in the Ark.

Most of the time you're next to Sideswipe, Sunstreaker too in recent days, and while it is understandable to say you should be more familiar with the other humans there has never been a real occasion to get to know them better since they apparently know one another way before your arrival.

So imagine the surprise when Hunter starts to make little conversation with you, starts to eat with you and even gives you sandwiches from who knows where because he is under extreme care after what happened the last time and totally banned from being out of the Ark like Jimmy and Verity, and everything is new because you're interacting with humans near your age range, you really are and that part of your brain which is a sociable creature is producing chemical happiness only by being in a group that recognizes your existence after so long.

It's good, fantastic, really, and you tell Sideswipe so after stopping him from picking you up one day to stay more time with the others.

You still ask to yourself if some word was rude or... Not exactly sure how to explain why he looked so down, nor why you tell Hunter no in the end and go back to Sides who is absentmindedly on his habsuit but almost jumps out of his oversized bed to greet you before asking for a favor.

Far from their shared habsuit, Sunstreaker is doing something that makes one of the most stupid but important things he has been getting ready for, moving as he can while most of his wounds are now repaired, his pride damaged beyond repair when he feels the movement on the door, there isn't much to expect when he already knows who it is, the human, well, no longer only human, Hunter, is standing just there, a bag full of the supposed essentials on his shoulder, Sunstreaker can't say anything, can't scoff at his organic nature's features that need aid of such mundane things nor can he make a joke about it.

Because he is very much headless with Hunter walking to him, is the middle of the night cycle and no one knows what they are going to do, the deal they have done.

Sunstreaker can't and will not leave his head to human supposed scientists to play with, Hunter wants to stop hearing him and, even if he denies it both ways, he feels bad for the mech.

"It was about time", Sunstreaker gets down the medbay berth room as fast and coordinate as he can in his state, is little more easy when he uses the bond to look through Hunter's eyes, guiding him in some way even if he is going to deny it later.

Hunter, already familiar with his attitude, can only sigh and get near to the mech's pedes, "sorry, I tried to say goodbye to some of the guys", well, he at least did to most of them, Jimmy and Verity seem to have catched onto something rare happening and maybe he didn't have to do it, seems that Sunstreaker hasn't even talked with his own twin about this, as for you, he only got to say bye hurriedly because you were fast to go with Sideswipe.

The thoughts pop up and it's normal, but he is already feeling the slow movement of Sunstreaker's body, if he had his head on, it would have been the same as if the guy was about to stomp on him, "If you're gonna court Side's pet do it when we get back, better to check that one out fast" he is talking alone, again, while moving around the room and expecting the next movement of the human.

Hunter's voice is sincere, like always, it's strange, because their voices are starting to sound the same and is reaching the point of it to be unnerving, to both of them, "You get that I wasn't the one initiating it or that I can't exactly stop it, right?", The mere idea makes him remember some of the most crazy and high daze induced alien movies he has ever seen on his life, of course most alien movies don't even make full sense of reason, but now that the he is a part of the real deal-

"What does that mean?" His tone is dangerous in everyway, but Hunter has learned to round those up and return back with a response, long gone are the days in where he cowardly shut his mouth against Sunstreaker.

"Means what it means, dude", he changes, his body does now, and he has a new view when Sunstreaker links them both, looking whole again in one of the windows that reflects them, Sunstreaker loves himself more than anything, but Hunter can't stop the disgusted expression in the glass and looks back at him.

"Means what you can tolerate now, I guess", there is just so much they can take from one another, or how much they can tolerate, being Hunter the holder of the almost never ending peace if it's needed, keeping Sunstreaker down, or at least to listen, is hard as it is, so imagine his surprise to the internal notifications popping in front of him when he notices you are also there, the body almost jumping backwards in order to stop any collision, looking like you just saw a ghost, a nightmare, and they don't need to ask about it.

You just saw Hunter became Sunstreaker's helm, but you can't let that show, there is only one certainty, this bot is Sunstreaker, maybe, he is looking at you with hardly covered disgust as always, but Hunter knows best and he can see every alert of their shared HUD telling him to avoid confrontation after a second passing notification gave the protocol of auto preservation to knock you out int that moment.

No matter how much Sunstreaker denies it or how much this seem surreal for Hunter, the mech cares for you, way too much.

"Sides-", you change your words, looking around, the yellow blanket that Sunstreaker likes so much on the zipper bag as always and it makes him stop on his steps, "Sideswipe told me to have a sleepover with you".

Of course the little fragger did, it doesn't seem out of sense, "Listen to me, human, I-".

"No, you listen to me", well, that's new, all this time you have cowered away, kept your mouth tightly shut and you head low everytime he said something, apparently now you're growing some courage, Sunstreaker isn't sure if he hates it or if he likes it he likes it, he likes it a lot, "Whatever is happening I don't really want to know, but", it seems like what you want to say is being held back by some kind of restraint, but you force it out when Sunstreaker is about to leave, "but please think of Sideswipe", your voice is a mere whisper, not even Red Alert would have heard it, to that much all the courage in your body sums up at it seems, and while Hunter feels bad for you Sunstreaker doesn't show the same sympathy.

"This doesn't have anything to do with Sides or you", his resolution is final, even when Hunter tries to negotiate the situation, but it's wasted time, you aren't even near the alert bottom, there is no way you can say to anybot that he is out of the medical bay or on his way to who knows where.

Still, the fire ignited on you doesn't stop, it keeps growing, "That spark isn't only yours", he is having enough of this, you acting all though, exventing, tired, and practically leaving you to whisper like a mad thing alone in your own chatting, "it's also Sideswipe's, he may say he is good alone but he needs you, you need him-", he makes a sound with his vents, like a scoff, and while Hunter can't believe Sunstreaker is really going to leave you there, embarrassed, in the verge of tears, the raise in volume do get their attention, both stop dead on their way when you really had enough, "you weren't here!", as if your daring didn't know any limits now you did shout, and Sunstreaker is almost sure at least one bot may have heard you, while he looks at the still empty corridors, "you weren't here, you didn't see him almost going into whatever equivalent you have of alien depression! You weren't here and now you must be because Sideswipe-!"

"This doesn't have anything to do with Sideswipe, this is my thing, my business and my personal matters so give me a break and go back to whatever cave you came from", he hissed back, low but the threatening of his words is still there, it doesn't stop you, there is a crazy tint on your eyes while you point a finger at him.

"You, you, you, it's always about you!", now you're full on screaming, almost shrieking, a limit being finally broken, "I don't care about you!", Hunter has to shut up before saying anything, because your words seem to have been a low blow, hate permeating all your words, "I never cared for you, I care for my friends! I care for Sides! And you are the fucking shit that comes along with him, I don't care what you do or if you go die, I would be happy if you did it alone but I don't want to lose Sides because of you!", as if your words didn't stung enough you throw the blanket to the floor and it makes the expression of the mech to darken even more by an strange feeling, "leave Hunter behind, leave your spark behind!"

For a moment it seems like Sunstreaker is trying to reach out to you, maybe to kill you by your bravery, you would expect something like that from him, either way the autobots are coming, you made as much noise as possible and your throat is raw by it, but if they can stop whatever madness he is trying to do then so be it, but, far from touching you he goes for the blanket, the stupid, obnoxious blanket.

A vain mech, even when you're insulting him, the almost hurt expression he has doesn't even matter to you now.

There is no much to expect, you can already hear the autobots come and so he does, looking at you in a way that makes you shudder, scared of him, Sunstreaker doesn't have time for this and changes to alt mode.

You don't know nothing, he want to tell you, he really does, shout it to your face, but he really can't think of it when someone else is hearing his thoughts.

There is deafening silence, partially, only the sound of his tires can be heard and is all he wants to hear, he can also see- sense what he is feeling, and Hunter feels bad for him.

"Sunstreaker-"

"Don't-", his voice is hard, low yet powerful in a way he hadn't heard so far, "don't you dare say anything, I don't need it".

He says so, and Hunter prefers to not say a word about it, don't even mentionthe now shredded yellow blanket by his transformation seams on his back seat.