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#imposter syndrome when being sick is so wild#i always have it every single time#like trying to analyse my own symptoms to figure out if i'm overreacting or not#and then i go to the doctor and tell her and she's like 'oh... well.'#i slept all afternoon yesterday and slept all through the night afterwards and still feel tired today#she was quite stunned to find that out#and then i still have trouble just trusting my instincts bc i know how to listen to my body by now#aaaaah anyway#i blame my parents#ab me
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not old enough (not old enough ch.1)
pairing: leon kennedy/reader
cw: smut, age gap (reader is 18), vendetta!leon?, alcohol, semi-public sex, possibly dubcon bc both leon and reader are intoxicated
summary: you and leon meet at an unnamed bar, but you're too young to be there (because this is the US in my limited imagination). 18 may be too young for you to legally drink, but you can legally hookup with dilfs.
word count: 2k
ao3 link
You were sitting on a barstool, drinking a whiskey sour, and making conversation with a man in his mid-30s, you’d guess, who was relatively attractive minus the slur of his words and dark circles around his eyes. He looked like more of a mess than you would by the end of the night. You went out that night with a few friends, wearing minimal clothing, hoping to attract the attention of men. One friend was getting over a breakup and the other was past due on this month's rent, so none of you were opposed to older men. Forgetting younger boys and getting cash weren’t your motives that night, though, you were just being supportive, so when your friends ditched you to leave with a man you thought was too sleazy to go home with, you were stuck at the counter of the bar with a slightly-less sleazy looking man, who said his name was Leon.
You couldn’t remember how the conversation came to this, but you showed him your ID. Maybe he wanted to verify your name or see the stupid picture they took of you at the DMV, but you’d had quite a lot of alcohol in you at that point, and if you had to retell the story, this was where it all began.
You hoped he wouldn’t notice the birthdate on it, which made you a little too young to be where you were. He’s wasted, you thought, he’ll never know. But, maybe it was his former-cop instincts, which you knew nothing about yet, that led him to notice the one critical detail on your license, the one that could get you in big trouble - your birth year, which would only make you 18, not 21.
He was about to announce it, when you dragged him away from the bar. “Don’t say anything,” you tried to sound tough, as if he couldn’t kill you in one punch.
He laughed at your feeble attempts to intimidate him, and said, “I’m not just gonna let you sit here and continue to get drunk. It’s dangerous for a young woman like yourself.”
It came out more flirtatious than he’d expected or intended, but you fired back with, “Please, I don’t wanna get in trouble. What can I do to get you not to tell, Mr…” You realized you didn’t know his last name.
“Kennedy. Leon Kennedy.”
“Please, Mr. Kennedy.”
“No, I don’t want you drinking anymore.”
“I won’t, I promise.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re a liar.” Leon waved the ID he was still holding, up in the air, too high for you to get it back. You jumped up, helplessly, looking like an idiot.
“I can’t get arrested, please. I’ll lose my scholarship and I won’t have money to go to school anymore.” You started spewing off any sob story you could think of in an effort to convince him.
“Fine, but I’m calling you a cab and you’re done for the night.” Leon tossed you back your ID.
“Can I just finish this one?” You gave him your cutest pouty face.
He groaned in exasperation. “Fine. Come sit down, then. Don’t want you falling over in those heels.”
You were a bit unbalanced, but it wasn’t the drunkenness, it was the heels. At least, you hoped it was.
Upon realizing there was only one barstool left unclaimed, Leon sat you down on his lap. You turned your head and smiled at him. The face of a winner. He knew he was playing right into your hand, but you were so precious. The combination between his genuine instinct to protect you from some of the men at this bar who could hurt you and the fact that his dick was starting to get hard everytime you shifted in his lap made him decide to stay with you, despite his better judgment.
You could adjust your sitting position in such a way that your skirt would ride up, giving Leon more than a glimpse of your lace panties. It looked innocuous to the patrons around you, too. It was a sight made only for him.
Leon tried to subtly pull your skirt back into place, without staring, and inform you about the wardrobe malfunction, but you just held your hands over his, one on each hip, making it even easier for you to grind your ass into him. At this point, Leon knew you were doing this on purpose, but he couldn’t help his natural reaction of physical arousal, which you’d noticed.
“Do you wanna take this somewhere more private?” You whispered to him.
He wanted to decline, but he also felt uncomfortable being surrounded by all these drunk men at the bar while he was red in the face and rock-hard due to some teenage girl on his lap, so he said, “Okay. Where?”
You led the way to the restrooms in the back of the bar.
You were 18 years old, and here you were, in the men’s bathroom of a dive bar pressed up against the stall door, hoping the clamor around you would hide the sounds you were making. Leon knew this was wrong.
You’re way too young for him and doing it in a bar bathroom would normally be below him. He would be disgusted by the whole thing if he’d stopped drinking a few glasses ago and if your skirt wasn’t short enough for him to catch a glimpse of your pink lace thong. He was proud his dick still worked at his age and level of inebriation. The women’s room might’ve been cleaner but you weren’t going to wait in line, not because you cared about the embarrassment of walking in with a man but because you needed him immediately .
His lips crashed into yours the moment he’d locked the stall door. You had one leg up around his hip, the other high heel on the tile. You held onto him while he kissed you feverishly to keep from swaying and to stop your knees from buckling at the feeling of his lips on your neck. He was sucking on your skin, carelessly, leaving marks while a thumb, wet with saliva pushed your panties to the side to play with your clit. Older men did it better; he could find the most sensitive parts of you without assistance.
Leon’s breath was hot against your ear whispering “ shut the fuck up ” when you whimpered, feeling his fingers prod at your entrance. Your hands made their way down his body in search of his already throbbing cock. You popped the button on his jeans, yanked his zipper down and he did the rest. He wanted it fast, didn’t want you fumbling around trying to get his dick out. He found his wallet in his back pocket and pulled out a condom, ripping the wrapper with his teeth before sliding it on. Leon wasn’t trying to get anyone pregnant, let alone an 18 year old girl.
At that point, his fingers were slick with your arousal, so despite his size, he could slip into you without any pain on your end. You still felt the stretch, but it felt good to be filled.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he hissed through gritted teeth, “Wouldn’t be able to get my cock into you if you weren’t soaking wet for me”.
His crude words made you moan, cute little cries, which he covered up with his mouth pressed firmly against yours as he pounded into you. With forceful thrusts, he set an unforgiving pace, rattling the door hinges. Anyone who walked in would know exactly what was going on between the two of you.
And they did.
Whistles and cheers came from drunken men in the restroom. No one was perverted enough to try to peek through the slats or over the door to watch, but the humiliation was still there. Clearly, you were getting off on it. Leon could feel your pussy clench around him. He couldn’t care less about what other gross men in this bar thought of him, but any disrespect towards you pissed him off. When the word “whore” came out of some asshole’s mouth, Leon took one of his hands from your hip and held it up, sticking his middle finger over the stall.
He knew they were just jealous that he was getting lucky and they weren’t, but you were young and he didn’t want you to feel insecure about the whole thing. A part of him knew you’d probably regret it in the morning, and he was sure he would too, but he figured he shouldn’t add to the degradation
“Don’t listen to them,” he mumbled into your ear, “You’re a good girl.”
You blushed; the praise only made you more aroused. Leon took notice.
“You’re doin’ so good for me, yeah? Takin’ me so well.”
Your top - if you could even call it that - was still on. Leon decided it shouldn’t be, so he slid the straps down your arms, and as suspected, revealed your bare chest. Just as he thought, you couldn’t fit a bra under that tiny piece of fabric. Leon cupped your breasts, squeezing lightly, then ran his thumbs across each nipple, making you gasp. You began to buck your hips up, trying to get more than he was giving you. He was holding back for your sake. He didn’t want to ruin you more than he already had.
But even with your thighs trembling, you were begging for him “harder” , “deeper”, “faster” , and he’d give you whatever you wanted because he needed to make you come.
Each deliberate thrust hitting a particularly sensitive spot inside you was working in tandem with the hand he’d moved down to play with your clit, getting you closer and closer to your orgasm.
The rhythm of Leon’s hips became more erratic, he was teetering on the edge and running on sheer desperation. If he knew one thing it was self-control, and you had to come first, he was going to make you. Looking at your head lolling with nothing behind your eyes as he fucked you dumb was making this the most difficult mission in his life.
He didn’t have to hold back much longer, though, because with a pornographic moan, which was the only thing covering up the lewd sounds of slapping skin, you came hard. You clung to the fabric of his t-shirt while your inner walls spasmed uncontrollably.
The sight was enough to make Leon come, working through his orgasm with slow rolls of his hips, his forehead pressed up against the metal door, so you could hear a groan escape his lips followed by heavy breathing. You were practically sobbing, mascara and tears painting your face.
When Leon looked at you, taken by post-orgasm clarity, he cupped your cheeks and kissed your teary skin - something he wouldn’t normally think of doing in this situation, but you were so precious. He wished there was more he could give you.
Once you’d assured him you were okay and that the tears were from overstimulation not pain, he insisted on calling you a cab to take you home. He’d remembered that his initial intention that night was to ensure that you didn’t do anything stupid while drunk. He’d already failed that mission, but he made sure you didn’t drink and drive. He called himself a cab as well because at his age, sex made him more tired than it used to. To his surprise, standing outside the bar in the cool spring air, you hugged him goodbye. He tried his hardest to reciprocate the tenderness you were giving him.
“Goodbye, Mr. Kennedy,” you whispered before getting into the cab.
He smiled and gave you a nod, gazing at your post-sex, glowing face. One he wouldn’t get the chance to wake up next to. Taking you home would’ve been worse though, and he knew that.
The next morning, the hangover hit him with a headache and a fuckton of guilt. There wasn’t a way he could apologize to you, but he sure as hell wanted to. While brushing his teeth, spitting out the aftertaste of last night, he noticed ink on his skin, a number written in permanent marker on his forearm. He didn’t remember you doing this, but your first initial was marked next to the number to confirm his suspicions. It was you.
#leon kennedy smut#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy smut#fics#miss oranje fics
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noelashe and how humans are inherently good (bc i need to get this out of my system) (it's mostly just ashe) (long AS HELL! 1 note in 20 days!)
ahem
ashe was born in a healthy environment, with a loving and caring family he deeply loved. everything he did was for or because of them (eg he wanted to become a doctor, and the impetus for it was his sister being ill). they helped him cultivate the good inside him and were his motive to keep being good, so naturally when they were taken away from him, he lost that motivation. that's what m*tty meant when he said to ashe that now he wouldn't have any more reasons to be a doctor, just like him. unlike ashe, m*tty was raised in a troubled environment and never had as much support as ashe, so he didn't have enough chances nor reasons to cultivate his inherent good (obvs doesn't justify any creepy and evil shit he did, ew).
so with this new influence from The Bitch™ in ashe's environment, he started to change. he realized that people couldn't be trusted and became a shell of what he once was, abandoning his morals in spite of his desires. after all, you can't be good and happy at the same time- you need to choose one of the two, so now ashe continuely chooses to be evil.
however, it's not that simple. ashe does, in fact, commit horrible acts, he murders, lies, and jaywalks. he uses people to get what he wants, since he's learned that those evil acts can grant his wishes (in this case, literally), and though his morals would never let him consider any of those crimes correct, he represses them (and the guilt he feels for his own actions) to be able to keep going.
but ashe is not inherently or irredeemably evil, and he can still do good things for no other reason than genuine goodness. for example, he took care of noel when he got sick. he worried and cared so much to the point of cutting noel's food into fun shapes, and he didn't aim to earn anything with that (noel's trust, admiration etc).
when noel confronted him with this fact, stating that ashe could not be an irredeemable monster if he had been kind to him, ashe refuted it, saying that it's not because you do good things that you are a good person. that much is true, because you can do good things for your own satisfaction, not thinking about the people you're helping, only about yourself. but then noel asks ashe if all he had done for him was a lie, then, and ashe stays silent, because no, his kind acts came from the heart and didn't have with any second intention behind them.
but why? isn't ashe evil now? how could someone who was so wretched and broken by others, who knows very well how cruel humans can be and who makes an effort every single day to go down that same path because he chose his own happiness above being good, still be capable of kindness? didn't m*tty change him?
he did change him, of course- his actions did, opening ashe's eyes to the possibility of cruelty among humankind, something he had never experienced firsthand before. but ashe still has that spark of kindness inside of him- something he was born with and learned to cultivate over time. hadn't he been born with it, hadn't he been born good, would he ever be genuinely kind in his life? knowing it wouldn't get him anywhere- at least not far, because as he himself said, "kindness alone can't protect anything"?
of course ashe isn't a saint, but he's no monster either. no one is 100% good or evil- but what i think and what i'm trying to explain here is that goodness lies within us since the start, like an instinct, and evil is learned from exposition to a certain environment. of course those expositions can change how we behave, but it's different on each person- everyone, though, still has that inherent good inside of them, whether it's still being cultivated or never has been at all.
#nobody gafs but i do i gaf so much#noelashe#cant let the tag die#my beautiful gays#im obsessed with ethics help help#me rambling#A LOT
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@riderofspades
TROPE 1:
1st one is definitely has to be sharing a bed. Because they actually do. But that sort of repeated and forced contact of being really tight roommates means a lot of 'playing nice' that we don't see on camera. I have like 5 different scenarios in my head surrounding that - but all of them still have the same element of Fang Duobing being either talkative just because he has company. Or being a sleep octopus. I 100% strongly believe he moves around in bed and will latch onto whatever is nearby so that's been a big consistent point in my headcanons. But dfs' reactions are where things become varied. On one hand, I like the idea where he's accepting of it because a) he honestly doesn't mind because his ego goes to very specific places and that damn upper floor does not have walls and he's cold b) Accepts it because of peculiarities surrounding his concept of physical boundaries - like maybe he's ok with it because he used to sleep in piles with the 3 kings and wuyan cuz they were poor as shit and it got cold at night and he just sees this as being part of the same. OR maybe he's touch starved and this is a bit of stolen affection that he can privately keep for himself. OR maybe he sleeps like a log and just doesn't notice because he either trusts fdb that much or just doesn't see him as a threat at all, even subconciously. c) he doesn't accept it but can't figure out how to get fdb to stop since he's asleep. And it creates continued shenanigans until he finally gives up and lets it happen Whether this ends up in a case of aggressive "Competitive sleep" where he ends up kicked onto the floor -- that's another matter LMAO but I tend to find these sorts of accidental/harmlessly forced intimacy pretty fun. You can't stay emotionally distant from someone if you're cuddling every night.
But that leads me to TROPE 2:
Enemies to lovers - but this would be strictly from FDB's pov bc I don't believe DFS ever sees FDB as an enemy. Even early on, he was fairly careful with him (for dfs' level of care which is still rough lbr) -- and he just got more and more bro-y as time went on until he started exhibiting that care more obviously. FDB however has this whole built up mental narrative in his head where he sees himself cast as the hero, and DFS is the big evil demon guy - even to the end, he still buys into the narrative because LLH keeps so much information from him. All the things we discover about dfs is filtered through LLH's silence. FDB hears none of it. Like take the scene where dfs shows up to give llh the styx flower? And fdb says to llh - hey he's giving up his dream for you. Because as far as he knows, dfs hasn't broken through to the next level of his martial arts yet. He doesn't know that dfs was caught/almost-or-temporarily died, tortured, etc. He doesn't even know that DFS was searching for the flower for llh. The situation I like to think about are when he's finally pushed into a situation where he has to apply his natural protective instincts -- but onto dfs instead of llh. Who... is prone towards getting in over his head due to narrative-karma being shit-tier. (I have a whole meta about that I've been stewing over) But basically dfs getting into trouble is a given. lmao. The issue is his tendency to not talk about things. Fdb, unlike llh, can't read dfs' mind and requires actual verbal communication. DFS doesn't really communicate like regular people do. But honestly, that's all technicalities. I like playing with gender roles and DFS being cast as the damsel in distress or the female-narrative-role is really fantastic. So having that played out with fdb in his self-cast hero role, falls naturally into that. Especially as llh's successor.
Which then brings me to TROPE 3:
FDB as llh's successor where he inherits the house, the dog, the sparkly underwear, and the wife nemesis. I mean. The first thing FDB tries to do is get dfs to call him shifu. And later, the first thing llh does to a-fei is to get him to call him 主人. Like master, like disciple, amirite? But it's like their immediate instinct is to try to keep him. And in his letter at the end, llh was telling dfs he can go to fdb if he wants. I took that as an indirect message from llh to fdb with a giant arrow pointing at dfs saying "KEEP AN EYE ON HIM, HE'S YOUR RESPONSIBILITY NOW"
AU TROPE
Something time travel or timeloop related because I like the idea of FDB being forced to truly learn the real stories of the people and events around him and not the story-version he taught himself. He truly understands llh -- because llh was his special interest, but he drastically lacks understanding of everyone else. Which is especially interesting regarding dfs because he's painted as the main nemesis to llh? You'd think that fdb's hyperfixation would partially extend to him bc he's llh's big enemy. But that never happened. I think it's no mistake that fdb's conversation with a-fei in the zombie village uses such broad terms like "You don't have to chose evil you can be righteous" -- all meaningless words because he has zero knowledge or understanding of dfs as a real person existing in real society. He only knows of him as this storybook figure of great 'evil'. Without him even thinking too hard about what that evil could be. It's just the word 'evil' flying around in his head with no real weight. I feel like time shenanigans forcing him to address that lack of knowledge or understanding would open up some interesting story potential. Also I really like the whole gaining knowledge thing. It's one of the reasons I like thrillers and mysteries -- finding out and understanding a person is like a personal version of puzzle solving.
#di feisheng#mysterious lotus casebook#fang duobing#my royal ramblings#replies#difang#all nighter meta replies
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Anon with the mer prompt here (different person from the sizeshifter instincts one btws) (i guess you can call me ^_^)-
Hope you feel better and that you have the time and energy and right vibes for writing soon <3<3
That poor human would have their mind blown if their friend (I'm also imagining roommate) turned out to be a mer, and then doubly blown when they find out about the borrower. rip to them bc they'd prbly have to cover for all the trouble and shenanigans caused by the other two
but then imagine the borrower goes out the ocean with the mer and their nervous abt it at first for so many different reasons but they trust their friends and they go out on a boat and see the ocean and just stop. bc it's hard to properly comprehend that makes even humans feel small then they look down and see their mer friend happily swimming in the water
all of the other mers would prbly go to the boat and assume that the borrower was a human pup or something
also just curious, do you like the qsmp? there's so much potential for g/t stuff within it but almost nothing abt it
- ^_^
Hello ^_^ !!! Nice to have a name to anon :3 How are you?
Sorry to take so long to get to this but my brain has been fried the last few days being unwell. Literally still sick but I went to work today (This is probably a terrible thing since we've been busy all morning but money >)
Absolutely the humans mind would be blown. I mean this person you've been living with for how long can sprout flippers? Like what!? And then you've just had a tiny stalker watching you and living off you to survive? *Faints* (or maybe not idk that sounds funny to me lol)
But the borrower going to the ocean would be so good because first of all I don't think many borrowers actually know or realise how big the ocean actually is. Like it's huge! Unless a borrower actually learnt enough info about the ocean and how it works, I think a borrower would just imagine an ocean to be a slightly bigger lake.
So for a borrower to see this massive body of water that stretches beyond the horizon and know how dangerous it is would be a terrifying experience and I think it would take a lot of coaxing from the human friend and mer to convince them to even get close to the water considering borrowers (at least I think so) wouldn't typically know how to swim. The mer friend could change that of course but I can def imagine the borrower just clingy to their mer or human friend in the water afraid of being swept away. (I also think if giant mers appeared the borrower would just hide because-my gosh there are giants bigger than humans?!?!? *also faints*)
The giant mers would def wanna see the miniscule human but like the human friend I think would be protective of the borrower but also realise what it feels like to be the borrower and tiny mer when meeting the mers in their ginat form because it would be their first understanding of what its like to be in their position. So nerves would 1000% be there.
And then of course you have the tiny mer oblivious to how terrified their friends are, just more happy to be in the ocean with both parts of their family in the same place :3
And I know bits and pieces of the qsmp but I don't really keep up with the storyline all that much. I did for a bit (Chayanne and Tallulah my beloveds) but I think that's just more of cause I enjoy Wilburs part on the smp. But I have a close friend that often updates me about major events that happen lol. So I don't mind if you wanna ramble about it but chances are I'll be lost on plot and a majority of characters and their roles 🙃
Thanks for sharing ^_^ anon!!!! much love and have some lollipops :3
🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭
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HELLO I AM GOING TO ASK BC I NEED TO KNOW MORE ABOUT YOUR OC's
Aster:
🍪: What is something that's sentimental to you OC?
Coen:
🍰: What's something your OC counts as unforgivable?
Chiisai:
🍫: Where does your OC go to think?
Asha:
🌽: How does this OC feel about acts of affection? What's their favourite act of affection, physical or emotional?
Oooooh sister I feel so honored and happy when I see you in my askbox! 💜 You can always ask me anything about my OCs. 💜
🍪: What is something that's sentimental to Aster?
Sentimental feelings are something he tries to avoid as much as possible, cause of reasons... However Aster got two things he holds onto with deep nostalgia: His old purple bandana he's still wearing as a scarf and his worn down T-phone.
He probably would get sentimental if he would see some old faces, who knows. :>
🍰: What's something Coen counts as unforgivable?
Betraying the family. You would lose and never get his trust again, landing on his hit list. You would be dead for him.
Also he won't forgive you if you steal and eat his saved snacks. :>
🍫: Where does Chiisai go to think?
On high places. It sounds maybe a bit weird but she loves to climb and sit on top of tall buildings. No matter if it's just a mast, a rooftop or even the most aviable highest point of a tower. Even a nice high-lying crevice (her instincts kicks in with wedging herself in that :>). As long as she can stare into the distance and got her headphones on, Chiisai climbs up, up, up until she's satisfied.
🌽: How does Asha feel about acts of affection? What's their favourite act of affection, physical or emotional?
Asha loves to give and recieve physical affection like hugs, holding hands, pats or even just a small touch on the shoulder and so on. She craves a lot physical affection and have trouble to be subtle with giving it to other that could irritate some people.
Her family however is used to be squeezed to death several times on a daily basis, getting some kisses on the head or gentle headbumps while she just pass them by.
She's a master of cuddling and hugging. Chiisai always gets picked up from her so she can't escape her snuggles.
#thanks for asking <3#always here for your asks#tmnt#tmnt au#tmnt oc#tmnt oc chiisai#tmnt oc aster#tmnt oc asha#tmnt oc coen
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The Backstory Arc, Part 6 (not canon, but fun!)
Prev | Masterpost | Next
nobody said "no" to the fic about Ash getting pegged sooo...
[Three main context notes: 1) Ash sounds immature and silly in this one bc he’s just kind of a goofy guy and he’s still a little dumb at this point in the story (still an adult capable of consent, just goofy). 2) He and Uma met when he accidentally broke her sculpture and had to help her in her studio to repay it. And 3) this is sort of a very slightly alternate timeline where the two of them had more time together and, by extension, had more opportunities for sexual exploration. This is an old fic so it’s written a little differently than I’d write it now, but I still think it’s fun.]
Content: explicit sex scene, pegging, anthro-ish character, f/m pairing, slightly feral
Long post (around 3.2k words!)
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Steam rises from the large stone basin as the last of the hot water splashes in. Uma slides in the tub and pats the water to invite Ash. He grins broadly as he plods in, his ears and tail twitching with excitement and his body splattered with clay.
“You know, I found out that most cats don’t like water? Which is weird, since tigers love it!” Ash says as he sinks into the bath. Uma splashes him playfully and scoots closer.
“Well, I’m glad you like it, cause you really need a bath.” She cups a handful of water in her hand and dumps it on his head. “Next time, put down the clay slurry before you sneeze, dummy.”
Ash shakes the water off his head. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to make a mess.” He turns to show the splotch of dried clay right between his shoulder blades. “Could you help me get this clay off my back?”
“How the hell did you get clay there?!” Uma chuckles as she wets a cloth and starts scrubbing. Goosebumps pop up all down his back, and his tail twitches. Uma swears she can hear him purring. “Oh, does it feel that good, Kitty?” She giggles and leans in to nibble on his ear. He gives a quiet murmur of enjoyment before snapping out of his daze.
“U-uma!” he laughs. “I really do need to clean up. We can play after the bath!” He tries to gently push her towards the other side of the tub, but Uma stubbornly scoots closer, trapping him in the corner.
“We can do both,” she says with a cocked eyebrow and a wry smile. Taking the cloth she used before, Uma carefully wipes the clay off Ash's face. She traces over his lips to the curve of his strong jaw, revealing his stripes from beneath the mud. “There. That's a start, at least. Now I can see your pretty face, Kitty.” At her comment, his cheeks flush and he chuckles breathily.
“Come on, let me just finish washing up,” he says, with a bit less conviction than before.
“No way! After the mess you made, I don't think I can trust you to clean yourself up. Stay still, Kitty—be good.” She gives him a quick kiss on his cheek before backing up to start scrubbing the rest of his body. Ash drops his protests as Uma’s hands drag across his shoulders, his chest, his stomach. Her hands move further under the water, and he can feel the rough cloth against his thighs.
Ash tries hard to stay still, but this endeavor becomes increasingly difficult as Uma meticulously traces every inch between his legs.
“I know I didn't get any clay there,” he laughs breathlessly.
“Silly cat, you can always use a good cleaning.” A fiendish glint shines in her eyes, and Ash realizes he might be in trouble. “Actually, I have an idea. Flip over, Kitty. On your hands and knees.”
Although Ash is unsure and suspects her “idea” may end up humiliating him, he complies.
“Okay. Now what?”
Uma rubs her palm up and down his back a few times before speaking. “Relax. I want to try something. This might feel weird, but you know what to say if you want me to stop.”
Ash takes a breath, trying to relax his muscles despite his embarrassment. Even so, his tail instinctively covers him as it always does. It’ll be fine, there’s no need to worry, he reassures himself.
“I trust you,” he says as he sinks into the position, letting his bottom rise up further. Uma roughly grabs a handful of his cheek, giving it a firm squeeze.
“Good Kitty, just like that. Now let's get that tail out of the way . . . ” She pushes his tail off to the side, swatting it as it attempts to curl back around. Ash knows he's fully exposed now, but he just keeps breathing and reminding himself to trust her.
A warm trickle drips down between his cheeks as Uma wrings out the wet cloth against his skin. She tenderly traces up and down with the cloth, paying special attention to the hole he's never thought much about. Why is she spending so much time there? he wonders.
She submerges the cloth again to fill it with water, then plants her hand on one cheek, pulling it apart just a bit. The tiny, rough corner of the cloth swivels into him, and as Uma squeezes, water dribbles inside. He reflexively puckers, unsure of the sensation. She gently twists the cloth, corkscrewing in and out of his tight entrance. When she withdraws the corner, Ash feels a nagging need he can't quite put his finger on.
But he doesn't need to—Uma places her own wet finger against him, teasing the entrance.
“I’m going to push in, okay?”
“In whe—?” His question is abruptly cut short by the answer. Uma’s slender finger plunges into him, and he bucks his hips upward in response.
“U-uma! What’re you—!” He’s at a loss for words, stunned by this new and exciting sensation. His member stiffens greedily and he begins to loudly pant.
“Ooh, what a good Kitty! I didn't expect you to get worked up so fast! You can rock back on me, go ahead.” She presses deeper into him, almost the entire length of her finger now inside. Muffled squeaks sneak out from Ash, who has clamped his mouth shut to keep from groaning. He pushes back onto her finger and gently starts to rock. Why does this feel so good? This hole isn't meant for that, right? Even so, he can’t deny the electricity pulsing through him or the warmth in his face.
An unexplored part of Ash’s mind clamors to the front, and suddenly the single small finger inside of him seems inadequate. Uma can see his writhing grow more needy, so she gathers more water to wet her hand again and slips in a second finger. As before, Ash struggles to keep quiet, embarrassed at the sounds threatening to escape. She giggles at hearing this and uses her free hand to tease his thighs and exposed member. His knees buckle, and he barely maintains his balance.
“Uma,” he squeaks, his head spinning and stomach starting to swirl.
“Do you need a break, Kitty?” she teases. “Don’t worry, I have a toy for you to play with. Here, come sit on your knees.” She removes her fingers, a low groan slipping out from Ash, and steps out of the bath. As she cleans her fingers, she points to the mat. “Sit.”
Ash’s legs wobble as he goes to kneel on the mat, and his wet skin glistens in the afternoon sun. With his hair still soaked, he looks astoundingly similar to a drenched cat. Uma quickly pats herself dry with a fluffy towel and retreats to her bedroom, calling “Stay!” as she leaves.
What kind of toy could she possibly mean? Ash wonders as he waits for her to return. His nerves are still alive with energy, and his sex drips with excitement. It takes all his willpower to stay put, but he manages to wiggle back and forth just enough to stay focused.
When Uma rounds the corner back into the room, the first thing Ash sees is the protrusion several inches in front of her. Around her hips hangs a belted harness, stitched together with several strips of leather and heavy fabric. Attached to this harness is what Ash can only assume is some sort of rubbery . . . mushroom? However, as she comes closer and stops right in front of his face, he can clearly make out the familiar shape, no bigger than his own.
“Remember what I did the other day, when I put you in my mouth?” Uma asks, stroking Ash’s face with her hand. “Why don’t you try that for me? Suck on my toy, Kitty.”
His face goes red, and he darts his eyes away from hers. She picks up his chin.
“Ah-ah-ah, no looking down. Be a good boy and open wide.” She gently pinches his jaw to force his mouth open. “There we go! Now take this and get it nice and wet.”
Though he’s still embarrassed and struggling to keep his head up, he allows her to enter his mouth. For a second, he’s not quite sure what to do with it, and he tries to recall what Uma did to him. Seeing the hesitation, she just slightly thrusts her hips, letting it pass in and out of his mouth.
That same newly-found part of Ash kicks in like before, and he starts to bob his head to meet the member. He can’t quite place why, but this part of him seems to . . . enjoy sucking on the phallic toy. In fact, his embarrassment begins to fade the longer and deeper he takes it, and he nearly forgets that Uma is on the other end. The fullness in his mouth, the slippery sound, the pull of his lips across the surface—it all awakens an emptiness inside him, an ache he didn’t know he had.
Uma brushes his hair back from his face, catching a faint purring sound from behind his lips. She pulls him off, a string of spit tethered to his lip, and pats his cheek approvingly. He smiles, breathless and tipsy from the flood of emotion.
“Good job, Kitty! I’m impressed. You put your whole little heart in that, didn't you?” she teases. “How do you feel?”
Ash can barely talk; his head is swimming, and thoughts drift away as soon as they bob to the surface. He rests his cheek in Uma’s hand, still quietly panting, and looks to her with pleading eyes.
“I . . . I want more,” he begs through the faintest growl. There's something increasingly animalistic in his face, a wildness just barely contained. Uma smirks and lets go of his face, reaching over to grab the bottle of lubricant she brought with her.
“Of course, poor little Kitty. Come along.” She gestures for him to rise and follow her. He does so, leaving a splotched trail of water as she leads him to her couch. “Bend over the side, like that. Good boy.” She gives him a firm smack as he drapes over the couch, his entire backside left exposed and available.
Seeing his hips slowly squirming, Uma chuckles.
“You really like being bent over doggy-style, don’t you?” she says, kneeling behind him on the couch. He looks back at her, confused.
“You mean tiger-style, right?” His tail twitches impatiently as Uma lets out a peal of laughter.
“Of course, Kitty. Tiger-style. How silly of me!” Still snickering, she opens the bottle of lubricant and begins to wet her shaft and Ash’s tight entrance. He whimpers at the touch, unconsciously pushing back against her.
She gently grabs the back of his hair and gives it a tug. “I assume you’re ready, Big Guy?” she asks in a low murmur. He tries to nod, forgetting his head is being held, and she releases his hair to trace her hand down his spine.
“R-ready,” he pants, clutching the couch as his excitement builds.
Uma places the tip against him, barely poking into him. She lets his body pull her in, taking her time to let him adjust around her. As she enters him so agonizingly slowly, Ash attempts to stifle the groans rising in his chest. When he seems ready for more, Uma presses her hips forward, burying it deep inside of him. The effect is immediate: goosebumps rise all over his body, and his hair stands on end. He lets out a sound neither of them have ever heard from him before, somewhere between a choked sob and a primal moan. His nails dig into the cushions like daggers, and his back arches fiercely, the stripes down his spine stretching to their limit.
She is only barely dipping in and out of him, but Ash is already seeing stars, his mouth hanging open and his lip trembling. Although he’s experienced a lot of new sensations with Uma, each more scintillating than the last, the gentle thrusts of this member inside of him are beyond comparison. He feels so satisfyingly full, the empty ache finally remedied. His barely-coherent thoughts keep repeating one word: yes! Unable to contain himself, Ash begins to push back toward Uma, forcing the shaft deeper and faster into himself.
“Easy, boy,” she murmurs soothingly, massaging his backside. She is astounded at the change in his demeanor; this hulking man reduced to begging on his knees, yet the animal side of him is fighting to come out. As Ash feverishly sinks back and forth and Uma thrusts to meet him, she can hear the inhuman roar beneath his moans. Without warning, his tail furiously wraps itself around her waist, holding her closer.
For a moment, Uma is genuinely frightened of this enormous, feral man. It’s almost as if he’s in a rage; he seems completely out of control. With one wrong move, he could easily injure her. But, as he turns his head and drops even lower, Uma catches the desperate, pleading gleam in his eyes, and she remembers she has nothing to fear. She grasps his tail, unwinding it from her waist, and pins it to his back with her hand. With her other hand, she presses on his hips, holding them still as she pulls out.
His head pops back up, his mouth agape and eyes wide. “U-uma!”
“Ah-ah, Kitty. Calm yourself. You stay still; don’t be greedy. I’ll give you what I give you. Can you be a good boy for me, Kitty?” She tenderly grabs his face, kissing his forehead, then returns to position herself behind him.
He nods. “Yes! Yes, I can! Please, Uma?” His voice is quiet and breathless, intercut with small whimpers. His own member, teased from lightly grazing the soft fabric of the cushions, aches with stiffness. He can feel the tension building inside him, desperate for release.
“Good. Then stay still, like the sweet little statue you are.”
Again, Uma lubricates the toy, taking care to still insert it as slowly as she can. Ash clings to the side of the couch as if he were going to be swept away in the tide. Be still, be still, stay calm, he repeats in his head. But all his willpower begins to melt away as soon as she plunges back inside of him. It's somehow even more delicious than the first time, and he can't help but jerk his hips.
He's met with a stinging smack to his rear, followed by Uma’s soft hand soothing the pain.
“Still like a statue, Kitty. Make as much noise as you like, but stay still. Every time you move, I'm going to smack your plump little cheeks, understand? Here,” she says as she places a pillow by his head. “If you need something to bite down on.”
Ash frantically tucks the pillow beneath his chin and tries to lock down his pleading body. Waves of pleasure wash over him with each stroke, threatening to push him over the edge. He takes Uma’s advice and sinks his teeth into the pillow, letting it absorb his shuddering moans. His whole body is trembling, torn between the command to be still and the electricity surging through him. All he can do is cling to the pillow and helplessly whimper.
“Much better, Kitty,” Uma murmurs.
She rewards his obedience by speeding up and delving deeper into him. His rigid shaft is bright with arousal; it drips, creating a tiny puddle of clear liquid beneath him. Thunder rolls through his muscles as the pressure in him builds, a charge crackling in his mind. I can't take much more! He tries to speak up and tell her he’s nearly at the peak, but all that escapes is an unearthly moan. Burying his face back in the pillow, he rides the wave, desperate for the inevitable storm to rage within him.
“Oh, Kitty, you're doing so good!” She says in response to his outburst. “I know what you want, but you'll have to play by the rules. Stay still, no touching yourself. Just let me make you feel good, alright?”
Is that even possible? Can that happen without touching it at all? His body thrashes against the command, a current buzzing under his skin. He nods, knowing that if he tries to speak, he won’t be able to hold back the eager moans filling his throat.
She pulls his hips up toward her so the gentle caress of the couch no longer touches him. As her strokes grow faster and more frantic, what little self-control Ash has left withers. He bucks his hips, she slaps. He rocks back, she smacks. No amount of correction can keep his frenzied body in check for long. In fact, the repeated sting on his backside starts to become intermingled with the pleasure, enhancing it somehow.
Electricity crackles in his mind, his vision almost blurring as the thunder passes through him. With the next intoxicating stroke, lightning jolts through his shuddering body, his shoulders collapsing to the plush cushions.
“Evi—!” he starts, before shoving his open, drooling mouth onto the pillow. Where did that come from?! He wails as the crackling pleasure causes his knees to buckle and a trickle of white fluid to pool beneath him. He jerks and sputters as wave after wave crashes into him. When he’s fully spent, his body falls limp, another whimper slipping out as Uma removes the toy.
“Ash? Kitty? You okay?” She kneels down by his face, combing his damp hair out of his eyes. “I know that was kind of intense.”
His eyes wander listlessly to her face, but he finds that his vision is still blurred. He tries to rub his eyes, but his fingers come back wet. Am I crying? Why am I crying? Uma sees the panic set in and gently holds his cheek.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” she soothes. “This happens sometimes; it’s okay to cry. Are you hurt?” He takes a ragged breath and thinks for a second, then shakes his head. Words just aren’t coming to him now. “Can you move? Why don’t we lay down and rest a minute, yeah?”
She helps him to his feet, his legs wobbling and his mind still a swirling blur. He stumbles alongside her to her bed, slipping beneath the blankets as she climbs in beside him. He curls into her, resting his head on her shoulder. She wraps her arms around him and places a soft kiss on his head.
“You were so brave; I’m really proud of you,” she murmurs. “Get some rest. We can talk when you’re feeling up to it.”
His body is exhausted and a fog hangs over his head. As he lays in her arms, tears continue to flow, though he’s not sure why. What does this mean? Why did I say that? Why, when I look at her, do I just see . . . him?
Through the fog, his bleary thoughts end up where they always do: a pair of golden eyes and a sickle-shaped tail.
#the caged tiger#ash and evius#writeblr#dnd fanfiction#it feels wrong to not tag and label mature but#i worry nobody will see these#my draft for this is titled “get pegged idiot”#rublewriting
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Reader x Cassian - Hellish Prompt: Reader is an assassin/spy that was caught and azriel has spent months torturing her for information and can’t get anything out of her and cassian eventually goes to see who this assassin/spy is and the mating bond snaps and cassian beats the $hitt out of az bc of the mating bond instincts and rhys has to intervene and break up the fight (i was thinking this could switch between azriel’s POV at the start and then switch to cassian's POV)
AN- this was SO fun to make. Please more requests like this!! I love the idea of unexpected mates!
TW -blood/ blades.
Drip, drip, drip. Copper smell filled the small room. Blood leaked down the drain in the floor. You wheezed a laugh bitterly and spat on the ground at his feet. Azriel's rage simmered calmly under his dark shadows. They coiled, ready to strike. Wanting to strike. The sound of your feeble laughs was practically the only sound Azriel had gotten from you for the first week of torture. The second week was worse, even for him. Truth teller revealed nothing when he gouged into your skin from the bottom up. Truthfully, he was impressed beyond measure. But that didnt mean that he could stop the job at hand. He had to know, and wished he didnt have to do this kind of thing to get the information from you. "Listen..." He sighed, cleaning his blade. He was always nervous whenever he had a back turned to an enemy, no matter how well they were restrained. But he trusted his shadows enough to tell him if something was wrong. "If you just.. Cooperate and tell me where the Queens are, we can let you go. No trouble, just releasing you back to Rask." He tried to keep his tone neutral, but he was nearing an exhaustion point. Torture every day for two weeks had its toll not only on the victim, but the dealer as well. His shadows seemed to be growing restless too, waiting for a chance to strike. He watched your reaction from the corner of his eye. Noted the way your head hanging loosely seemed to gain a bit more strength before you spoke. "Losing your touch, Spymaster?" You revealed a row of bloody teeth to him, and grunted when the chains at your wrists stung the magic that weakly attempted to help you. Azriel could have sighed. He could have laughed and bled you dry. Have a healer come and patch you up enough to keep you alive. The idea was tempting, but he didn't like having anyone besides his brothers see him in this mode of darkness. He could have brought Rhys down to attempt to break into your mind again. After the first attempt and Rhys' reaction to being blocked, he wasn't eager for that again. So he sighed, and brought out the potions laced with Faebane. + He was convinced you weren't a normal Fae. After months of his best torture methods he was a wreck. "She just-" He tried to hide his frustration, but his brothers knew him best. Cassian smirked by the fire, warming his wings. Rhys seemed a bit more concerned, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Azriel had never been one to spend a long time on torture. Rhys saw the frustration flowing from him after every session with the stubborn Fae in the dungeon cell. "I dont know what to do anymore. She's the only one to have never broken." He ran a hand though his hair. His shadows seemed weak, exhausted like him. Rhys considered for a moment, looking between his two brothers. Cassian seemed to be enjoying Azriel's frustration. Maybe a bit too much. Rhys sipped his wine then, with a look of innocence, "Maybe we will have Cassian end it. Perhaps seeing the Lord of Death in front of her will knock something loose." Cassian's stare whipped to him, a silent plea on his face. "We should leave it to our expert Rhys-" Azriel laughed, cold and bitter. "The expert hasn't got a damn thing out of her. We either kill her or send her back to Rask with all the information she's collected about us. With nothing in return." Shame lined his features. The sense of failure to his high lord was a heavy weight to bear. "Cas...I expect you down there tomorrow afternoon. It will be her last chance." Rhys' no nonsense tone shut down Cassian's retort. His jaw locked with distaste. He hated the cramped cells below the house of wind. Hated the way going underground made his wings feel like they needed to stretch. The worst was when that stale air was laced with the rotting smell of dead mice or old blood. It made his skin crawl just thinking about it. "Come on Cas, dont you want to see the only one that's outlasted me?" Az asked with a mock grin. He couldn't give the same smile back. Turmoil spilled inside him at the thought of going so far below the mountain. + Cassian took a long time to go to bed that night. His restlessness about the next day made him wake up over and over, never having more than an hour of peace before being waken up. Azriel held up a mug of tea to him the next morning. "You look like shit." He handed his brother the mug with a small smile. Cassian glared at him, but took it anyway. He went to the balcony, his heavy wings needing to feel the fresh air. It was like taking a bath after being covered in grime. He sighed in relief, letting the late morning sun graze his body. The cold wind from Illyria was beginning to come in for the winter, and the familiar smell ignited something in him. He felt a draw, but shoved it to the back of his mind. He knew what he had to be this day. "Why the hell do we have to keep them so far down again?" Cassian complained. Around and around and around. Down deeper and deeper into the pit of the mountain that the house above was carved out of. Cassian felt like his lungs were collapsing the further they went. He tried not to let his nerves show, but he knew Az's shadows would pick up on it anyway. "Remember when you broke your arm chasing down that Attor?" Azriel could have laughed at that memory, but the story surrounding it made the experience soured. More shame on top of the guilt already there. Cassian hummed in approval, welcoming the distraction the memory brought. He tried not to focus on how each turn of the staircase got darker and darker. How the air seemed to compress around him. He locked his eyes on the scar on one of Az's wings. "And we spent a week fixing the top story of that apothecary?" He asked, keeping his voice steady. "Yes. Dont you remember how the Attor got out?" Cassian shook his head, and Azriel huffed a laugh. "I left the door open for just a second to get a new knife and..." He shook his head, part in anger and regret, part in shame. "It had escaped before I turned around. I dont know how it happened, to this day." Cassian stared at the back of the shadowmaster's head. The dark ripples around him seemed to spike. "It happens Az, you can't be perfect." "It's not perfection, its basic thought. After that we moved all enemies to the lower dungeons. No matter the threat. Rhys even put wards on the arches." He ran a hand over the walls, his fingers catching a few of the grooves that linked each spelled archway to the other. Cassian left the conversation at that. At least his brother wasn't brooding as much as before. The dim lights began to come into view, and his heart began hammering. Adrenaline singing through his veins. His polished siphons glowed, reflecting red off the dark stone ceiling. He had polished all his black armor the night before, when he couldn't sleep. Something poked, prodded at him all night. Keeping him awake. He figured he may as well make use out of it. "She's not going to talk to you unless you show..weakness first." Azriel said in a low voice. Cassian nodded, reaching the end of the stairwell with him. Cassian couldn't see the dark figure in the cell, but he felt the presence nonetheless. The dark draw that you demanded. He wondered how Azriel had dealt with that pull this whole time. The tantalizing draw to you. He shook his head, pushed the hair out of his face and nodded to Azriel. He opened the door, then began his ritual. At the start of every session he would toss a bucket of water over your body, then a bucket of salt. It made the wounds that handn't healed fully scream in pain. You jolted at the suddenness of it this time. "Good morning, shadowsinger." You ground out, voice rough with strain. Cassian watched in awe at his brother. Cassian was never one for torture. There was a reason Azriel was appointed to this position. Watching the calm cruelness of him was jarring, but Cassian kept his face straight. He stood behind you, watching the flimsy attempts to pull at the shackles holding your arms up. Lacerations dotted each arm, some light pink scars. Some were still scabbing over. A chill ran down his spine. "You have a guest today, would you like to see him?" Azriel's voice was cool, calm. Like he was speaking orders to a group of soldiers. He began slicing new lines into your arms, moving up to your neck. He had left your ears in tact, as a last resort if you refused to speak to Cassian. The pull Cassian felt was overwhelming. He walked a bit too quickly around you, plastered on a wicked smile for show, then crouched down. The smile faded when he finally saw your face. Your dripping hair was a horror on its own. Plastered to the skeletal cheekbones, and pale eyes. Those eyes were brighter than anything he'd ever seen. A field of flowers down the slope of Illyrian mountains. His world shifted, drawing the breath from him. "Mine." His mind seemed to roar with that alone, but in a thousand different variations. "Lover, friend, partner, mine mine mine. Mate. My mate." His lips quivered with the realization. With the way his heart soared, and the way he moved without realizing it. He choked a gasp, and fell forward on his knees before you. He saw the same astonishment in your reaction. Azriel dropped his sword, confusion and concern alert on his features. "Cas wh-" Before he could finish, before his shadows could detect that Cassian had even moved, his brother was on top of him. Cassian's knuckles stung with every punch. A new kind of rage flared inside him. It made his muscles yearn for violence. Made his teeth crave the flesh of those that so much as looked at you wrong. There was no mercy for Azriel, it was as if he was an enemy on the battlefield. Cassian held nothing back. You hung limply from the chains that bound you. Crunch after crunch sounded from Azriel. He eventually managed to push Cassian off of him. Then they locked together in battle again. Clashes of armor against armor were deafening. The snarls they ripped at each other were loud enough to make you cringe. Your heart squeezed at the sounds of Cassian's breath. At the scent of blood spilling. You pulled feebly at the chains, your mind roaring to protect him. Your mate. You tried to watch the battle, but the weakness in your body refused to let you turn more than a few inches. They were panting, Cassian fighting with a ferocity Azriel had never seen. His eyes flared with rage, like he was possessed. "Cas-" Azriel grunted, shoving his brother backwards. His back hit yours, pushing you down and digging those stone cuffs into your wrists. You hissed in pain. Cassian roared and lunged at his brother again, and again. The darkness that boomed outside the cell was jarring. The stone ceiling shuddered, small rocks and dirt falling from it. Cassian did not stop. He didn't hesitate, coming at Azriel with punch after punch. His fist crushed the wall behind where Az's head had been.
"Enough." The high lord's cool command was enough to make you still your weak attempts at looking at the two. Cassian's chest heaved as he tried lifting his arm to punch Az again. Pure fury in his heart was enough to make him disobey Rhysand's order.
Then Rhys' talons gripped him. Freezing his mind, stilling him. Rhys' face shifted to surprise at what he glimpsed at there. "Oh.." He breathed. Azriel panted, backing away from his brother, out of the cell. He locked the cell and wiped the blood from himself, his wings hanging limply behind him. "What- the hell." He panted, nursing his arm. Cassian's eyes locked to your small frame. How your muscles quivered, how your arms shook with the effort of holding yourself up. He felt Rhys' claws recede slowly from his mind, releasing each part of him one by one. He rushed to you. He picked up Azriel's sword and with a clean, masterful swipe, broke the enchanted stone that bound you. The weak sigh that came from you was heartbreaking. His eyes pricked with tears, and he caught you before you could fall to the floor into the puddle of dried blood. He didnt notice, or care that it was there. He sat there with you, cradled you and shook with you.
"Cassian... She's.. Cassian's mate." Rhys said slowly, astonished. He didn't take his eyes from his brother in the cell. Azriel froze in place. For a moment, the dungeon was completely still. Totally silent, as if the world waited for what was to come next.
Azriel turned on a heel and left, trudging up the stairs. Rhys dared not touch his mind. "Cassian...." He spoke, trying to get his brother's attention. He did not glance at Rhys, just curled around your body more. Protecting, nesting almost. Rhys knew the feeling too well from the weeks after he and Feyre's bond snapped into place. "We will check in tomorrow. Be safe, brother." Rhys spoke to Cassian's mind. It was nothing but an ocean of rushing thoughts. Cassian could have bared his teeth, could have tried to fight his brother through the bars of the cell. Hell, he could have probably broken through those bars with the primal strength flowing through him with the rush from the bond.
But he didn't. He stayed, his warm body pressed against yours. Those siphons glowing against your skin like a fire. He stroked your hair soothingly, his tears like rainfall on your body, through your bloodstained clothes. He didn't remember falling asleep there, but it was the most restful, peaceful night he'd ever had in his existence.
#acotar#acotar fic#reader x cassian#cassian fic#cassian#azriel mention rhys mention#cassian x reader
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Crossing lines
General Kirigan/the darkling x reader
Summary: This was requested by my friend @vvsdiamond28 who also writes and has a really good kirigan x reader story up right now! The request was basically for a fic in which the reader is out wandering at night and runs into kirigan while he’s in the banya and then they get to talking and some other stuff before he admits to only trusting the reader and giving her his real name. This gets kinda steamy bc of the request and bc the story called for it lol but it’s not full smut bc i decided that it would be better to do that as a part 2 so that i could add some jealousy tension haha
a/n i think im back?? Ive been working on requests a lot and ive really enjoyed writing regularly again. A small side note, after rewatching revenge of the sith im kinda in the mood to try writing an anakin fic 😭 pls he was my OG fictional crush,, so either send help or a request for him or something, Anyways,, back to this fic--ahh i had fun writing it but i still feel awkward writing steamier stuff so be nice!!
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Those that wander in the night, lost in uneasy thought--there’s probably a lot that can be said about them. But I can’t think of anything to be said about me. Nothing good comes from walking around a place full of powerful and tense people in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t take much effort to interpret my actions as suspicious, and yet I continue forward. I’m an idiot--just because I can’t sleep doesn’t mean I have to wander around campgrounds. My presence is barely tolerated here, I shouldn’t try backstroking in waters I can barely tread.
But still, I walk, eyes more fixated on the open night sky than anything else. The moon is as full as an overflowing glass, the stars twinkling as if desperate to compete with a light it will never be able to duplicate. I sigh, pressing my lips together. Maybe the stars and I have more in common than I thought. Normally, that would be a good thing.
Letting out a weary breath, I continue forward, away from the relative safety of the main tents. I’m still on the grounds, I’m approaching the border where the tents of higher ranking officials are. That should make me more nervous, but if anything it almost eases me slightly.
General Kirigan is not the type to be friendly, and yet our interactions have always been laced with a touch of intimacy I can’t quite explain. We’ve been alone together more and more frequently, and I think that’s how I like him best. It’s strange, but when we’re alone some of his sharpness dulls, leaving space for something I might consider humor or actual personality on anyone else. He probably speaks to many girls like that when they’re alone together--a fact I have to fight to remind myself of--but it’s the closest thing to friendship I have here. Maybe it’s foolish to hold onto that, but I can’t bring myself to release my grip on those sentiments. At least not yet, when the kind moments are still rare and fleeting and no line has been crossed.
The danger, however, comes from the prospect of not recognizing lines before they’re crossed. Even now, as I walk aimlessly in the night, pacing in hopes of exhausting my thoughts, I’m crossing lines in a much more literal way and even these are ill defined. I must be in new territory now, and even that I can only vaguely recognize because of the strangely humid scent that surrounds this area of the grounds.
I’m near the banya. I didn’t intend to wander here, but the thought of splashing water on my face is too tempting to pass up on. I move closer, finding a sense of peace in having some direction, even in a small way.
When the promise of water is only steps away, I begin to regret everything. There’s a figure in the bath. I freeze, ready to attempt to shrink away in hopes of disappearing before I’m caught. This could easily turn extremely awkward even though I technically haven’t done anything. Most people don’t bathe at this hour. Who bathes this late at night?
I keep my eyes on the individual, trying to make out who they are and how aware they are of their surroundings in the dim light. Pale skin, dark hair--unbelievably attractive torso. My eyes linger there longer than they should. I force my gaze upwards, towards their face as if that can erase my ogling. Embarrassment leaves my face burning--I’m not the ‘ogling’ type, and this person doesn’t even know I’m here. I keep my eyes on them as I step back, taking in unaware features as best I can in the dark.
I know them--I--Saints, it’s Kirigan.
Fantastic. Of course he has to be even more impossibly attractive while shirtless and wet. I turn my head upwards sharply, more desperate to not be caught than ever. I would never, ever recover from being caught. Whether he’d tease me or be angry with me, I don’t know. I also don’t know which option I’d prefer.
I step back again, my gait wider due to my urgency. Snap. The sound of both a twig and my chance of a stealthy escape being shattered. I cringe, craning my neck to the left in a desperate attempt to make it clear that I wasn’t watching him. I take another desperate step, ready to duck behind a nearby tree. Maybe he hasn’t seen me--maybe he’s distracted and assumed that some kind of rabbit or something passed by. He may not actively dislike me, but I’m not sure any semblance of favor he may have for me extends to this situation.
“Y/n.” His tone reveals nothing but his level of certainty. Ignoring him will only make me seem guilty.
I pause, keeping my gaze off of him. “Yes.” It wasn’t really a question, and yet I still answer it like one. “I was--I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d get some air, and I was walking kind of aimlessly and I ended up here and I didn’t think anyone would be here.” Why do I feel like I’m making this situation worse? “I’m sorry--I’m gonna--I’m going to go now.” This is the kind of embarrassing moment that will come back to me when I’m trying to fall asleep at night. I know it.
“You know the polite thing to do after intruding is to make eye contact.”
I don’t think my face has ever felt this warm before. At least he doesn’t sound angry, but his voice doesn’t reveal that much. I raise my gaze carefully, turning my head slowly. “I didn’t mean,” I exhale slowly, “It wasn’t my intention to intrude.”
He straightens slightly at my words, exposing more of his chest. I stay still, eyes trained on his to avoid an accidental lapse. “You could make it up to me by offering conversation.” Kirigan’s tone is deliberate, his words measured and calm. I don’t speak, feeling like I’m being presented a test I don’t understand, but most of our conversations leave me feeling like that. “Only if you’re comfortable.”
And just like that, I’m backed into a corner. A challenge. To deny him now would be to expose the effect he has on me. My chin raises a fraction of an inch as I take in that assured half-smirk. “Why wouldn’t I be comfortable?”
Kirigan arches a dark brow, assessing my response. “Then sit,” his voice has not changed, “You want air and I want company.”
I don’t think anyone that looks as good as he does shirtless has ever had trouble finding company, especially with the smooth way he speaks. Despite this, I step forward to accept his challenge without calling him out on his coyness. Each step is the crossing of another invisible line until I’m near the water’s edge. I make sure to keep my nightgown at a respectable length as I sit down.
I make a point of extending my legs towards the water while leaning back so that I can’t be easily accused of being a coward. “I feel the need to warn you that I might not make particularly interesting company.”
He angles his head to the side slightly, drawing attention to his jawline and neck. I force my stare to focus on the water. “I’ve never found you uninteresting.”
There’s something resigned in the way he says this. On instinct, I look up, taking in the slight softening of his features. The release of his usual sternness only adds to his beauty, a fact that I’m already resenting.
“You may be the only one.” It’s not meant to be a deprecating comment, but I’m not sure my partial laugh softens my bitterness. I hope it does--I’d rather his interest than the interest of my entire unit.
Kirigan shifts forward, the water moving with him. “Do you think that any coldness you’re experiencing has to do with you?”
The question has me drawing my eyebrows together. What else could it be? I shrug, “I’ve considered it.”
He nods once, eyes hardening slightly. “Do you always have trouble sleeping?”
The personalness of the question shouldn’t surprise me as much as it does. Kirigan seems to only understand boundaries when he’s the one setting them. “Not really.” A partial lie--this time I’m glad I can’t quite bring myself to look at him. “It’s not uncommon for me, but it’s not something I deal with every night.”
I risk shifting my eyeline when I hear the sound of water moving. Kirigan’s now resting an arm on the rim of the pool, wet skin dangerously close to my ankle and lower calf. “It’s not always easy,” his voice is low now, “Being alone with your thoughts.”
That’s not the kind of reply I’d expect from him. I blink twice before turning to study his expression. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him seem so tired--so weary and human and in need of something. The line between his eyebrows and the far off quality of his eyes leave me with the strong desire to give whatever it is he needs to him. The urge to reach out, to touch him in hopes of breaking him free from his odd trance leaves my stomach knotted. That line is too clear to cross so recklessly.
I need to chase away the serious atmosphere he’s created. “Is that why you bathe so late at night?” I let myself smile, “To avoid thoughts?”
“I like the peace of it.” Something akin to amusement touches his words. “And for the record, little dove,” the nickname is pointed and earns him an eyeroll, “The warm water doesn’t exactly chase away thoughts so much as encourages others.” He pauses. “You understand, considering you can barely look at me.”
This is the most embarrassing thing to have ever happened. The suggestive jilt to his words has to be intentional. Damn him. I turn my head, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I can look at you just fine.”
“And if I were a Heartrender and could hear your heartbeat your pulse would be normal?” The question is teasing, a small smile pulling at his lips.
The warmth in my face increases, spreading down my neck. Kirigan’s expression remains smug. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”
“No?” He leans forward, angling his head so close to me I can faintly feel the warmth of his breath on my lower calf. “I find myself amusing.”
At least being around him like this is getting easier. I open my mouth, ready to provide some sarcastic comment I haven’t thought out yet. My mouth clamps shut on instinct when I feel his touch on my ankle. The faint contact quickly grows, his fingers brushing up my ankle and calf, leaving drops of cool water across my skin.
“What are you doing?” That’s a--a fair question, right? I’m not sure, rational thought slipping from me more and more with each passing second.
“Nothing, really,” his reply is quick. “Nervous?”
There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. I roll my eyes, fighting against my instinctual fluster. “No,” a full lie, “You’re just getting me wet.”
“Barely.” When he’s not busy being brooding he’s not much better than an irritating child. He retracts his hand slowly, fingers grazing my skin slowly as he submerges his hand beneath the water. The loss of contact should feel like a victory. It doesn’t. “Y/n,” he shifts closer, back straightening.
There’s an odd seriousness to his demeanor that almost leaves me reeling. “Yes?”
He beckons me forward. I hesitate, but comply, letting myself shift closer to the water’s edge. Kirgan’s lips part, but no words leave him before he moves his arm, purposefully splashing water over my thighs and bottom of my nightgown. I let out an instinctively annoyed sound. “That is getting you wet.”
“Kirigan!” My tone is as menacing as I can make it, but he continues to grin. There’s such a lightness to the look I almost forget to be annoyed. Almost. “I should tell the entire Second Army how much of a child you are.”
My threat does nothing, his smile softening without fading. “They fear me too much for your stories to make a difference.” He says this flatly. “All of them except you.”
I don’t know if I’m supposed to make something of that comment. A brief moment passes in which I think his eyes come close to softening. Maybe that’s a side effect of seeing the world as you want. Wait...what do I want? Him? No, no, I can’t.
Okay, he’s objectively attractive and sometimes I think I may see more depth in him than he wants to be capable of. But that doesn’t mean I’m allowed to want anything with him. Even if he was trustworthy enough for me to be with him in any capacity...even casually, it could never happen. Nothing good could come from having relations with the highest ranked general and I doubt he’d ever want me like that. He likes to fluster people and I’m an easy target. I just accept it because being some level of entertainment to him is better than being nothing to everyone.
“I don’t think there’s much point in fear.” It feels like a fair answer. The fairest answer I can manage, anyways.
He sighs, the sound heavy. His hand stretches forward cautiously. I watch him and make no attempt to stop him from touching my lower calf. His fingers trace absentmindedly across the skin. “Of course you’d think that.”
Again, I don’t know what to make of his words. Or his actions. He couldn’t find anything wrong with me just slightly adjusting my position. It’d be a polite way to remind us both of the natural order of things. But then again, someone like him is allowed to be mad about anything. And I’m not sure I want to remind us of our place.
Actually, I’m completely sure that I want the opposite of that. But admitting that to myself is enough of a risk. I’ve already crossed thousands of tiny lines and what I want will require us to cross a thousand more.
“I’m a little surprised you’re not reminding me how foolish a notion like that can be.”
He lets out a tiny breath as he shifts even closer to me. “Maybe I’m enjoying your foolishness.”
“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or the opposite.”
The slightest hint of a smile is visible to me beneath the moon’s glow. There’s something about darkness that adds beauty to things. I wait for him to reply, but instead of speaking his hand moves further up my leg. I struggle to hide my reaction to his long fingers trailing up my skin.
He’s touched me before, sure. Tiny moments in which he’d push a strand of hair out of my face or wipe at a bit of dirt on my cheekbone. More recently, he had gripped my hip firmly to guide me through a crowd of soldiers. He had been in a hurry, stealing me from a conversation with the only member of my unit that’s been somewhat friendly to me. It wasn’t serious--he had just been rushing me because he only had a minute between meetings and apparently he had too long of a day to not take a moment to speak with me.
“Are you alright, Dovey?” Normally, the nickname and all of its variations earns him an eyeroll. But everything is a lot less humorous with his hand half up my lower leg, leaving a trail of cool water wherever he touches.
His fingers press more firmly into my skin. “Yes, I’m fine--it’s just late.”
“Hm…” Kirigan breathes before tilting his head slightly. “You’re warm.” I stay silent as his hand shifts slightly. “Perhaps too warm.”
If I’m hot that has absolutely nothing to do with fever. “I’m fine, General, I promise.”
“Come closer,” he says, “It’ll take me no time to check.”
...A little too convenient. My nightgown is still embarrassingly damp from the last time I eased tonight. “Please tell me you don’t find me that naive.”
“Naive? No.” He lifts his hand slightly. “Warm? Yes.” I still don’t trust him. “I’m not going to do anything. I promise.”
His eyes are dark and the limited lighting of the moon doesn’t offer me much in my analysis, but what I can see makes him seem genuine. “Why do I feel like that’s not the first time you’ve had to say that?” Despite my comment, I move towards him.
The back of Kirigan’s palm is pressed to my forehead for less than a second. He brushes his hand down the side of my temple, rotating his wrist so that his fingertips can touch my cheek. His hand then continues to move down my jawline and then my neck...and then finally trails down my collarbone. I bite my tongue to avoid exhaling audibly at the contact.
“Warm,” he concludes with a tsk, and yet he doesn’t withdraw his hand. “Though that could just have to do with the climate.” His thumb slips beneath the sleeve of my nightgown. “Perhaps you could benefit from joining me.”
I bite my tongue to avoid letting out a surprised, embarrassingly enthusiastic squeak. I don’t know what’s gotten into him...maybe it’s the night air and the prospect of being fully alone. I should be strong enough to break whatever spell he’s starting to place on me. But I’m not. I’m really, really not.
He pulls on the sleeve of my nightgown slightly. “I’m…”
“Unless you’re nervous?” Another damn challenge. To shy away from this would be to expose myself. He tugs on the sleeve a little more assuredly, exposing my shoulder to the humid night. “Do I make you nervous?”
His voice comes out a shallow rasp. I feel it straight in my core. “...Not more than you should.”
“More than I should?”
Ugh--too honest. I let myself get distracted. It shouldn’t be too difficult to explain what I meant. He knows he’s feared. He wants to be feared. “I’m sure we’re both aware that there are a fair amount of cautionary tales revolving around you.”
His hand falls next to my lap. Oh? I didn’t expect to miss the contact between us so much. His expression seems to have fallen slightly as well. Was it my response to his question? It felt fair and straightforward without being too blunt. “And you believe every cautionary tale you hear?”
There’s something stiff about the way he asks the question. His moodiness is making me miss his touchiness even more. At least then I didn’t have to feel like I made a mistake. Did I say something wrong? “Should I?”
“It depends on whether or not you plan on being brave.”
“I told you...I don’t see much point in fear.”
“And yet you’re still there.” A bit of humor returns to his voice. “Why is that?”
Rolling my eyes, I shift forward, letting my legs dip into the water. This is as far as I should let this go. I’ve already lost too much more control. “Better?” He’s strangely tense again, a hint of something bitter playing at the smug look he tries for. “You alright?”
“Of course you’d ask me that.” He says this with a tired sigh. “You can never make things easy.”
“I don’t understand.”
He shifts backwards slightly. I can feel the distance between us like I’d feel a pebble in my shoe. “Do you believe all the stories about me?”
Is he still bothered by that? “I didn’t mean it as literally as you’re taking it. All I meant is that people are intimidated by you, but that’s not a bad thing. It’s the way things have to be, you’re the only Shadow Summoner in existence and the army needs you to be intimidating so that they can act on your guidance.”
“The way things have to be,” he echoes, his voice strangely weighted. “There’s a specific kind of loneliness that comes with being feared by everyone.”
Oh--I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him feel defeated like that. I reach for his hand without thinking, pulling his fingers towards my lap. “I don’t--I’m not scared of you.” It’s a weak attempt to comfort him, but it’s the only one I can think of. “That probably doesn’t mean anything, but I--”
His hand turns in my lap, squeezing the exposed part of my thigh. “It means something.” Kirigan’s voice has hardened in a different way. “You’re the only person I’m certain of.”
Everything in me seems to tighten at that. At the implication of something so personal from someone so closed off. “Kirigan, you don’t have to be as alone as you feel. You talk to me all the time and you do so in a way that makes it easy to forget the cautionary tales.” His hand moves further up my thigh. I fight as I try to remember our usual dynamic. “You’re the only one that talks to me like that.”
“Have you ever considered that maybe the others refuse to take to you because of the favor I’ve shown you? The instinct to stay away from me is strong enough to extend to those around me.” Kirigan’s hand moves higher up my thigh. “To be near me is to involve solitude.”
“I don’t care.” The answer leaves me too quickly. “Being near you is worth it.”
He leans closer before resting his chin on my knee with no hesitation. “Careful, you don’t understand the line you tread.” Kirigan places his hand more firmly between my thighs. “Or perhaps you do...perhaps you know what you want to cross.”
This time I can’t help the airy sigh that leaves me. Kirigan pushes against my thigh slightly, separating my legs. I feel his breath on my inner thigh before I know what’s going on. I can’t move, I can’t think, I can’t even breathe. That inability to do anything but feel my heart pound against my chest only worsens as I feel his lips press into the inside of my thigh. His lips trail up my skin before his teeth gently sink into the top of my thigh.
“Is the line you want to cross?” He breathes the question so softly I feel like I’m being coddled. Everything in me feels too hot to think of any kind of coherent response. Kirigan uses his free hand to pull the fabric of my nightgown as high up my thighs as he can from his position below me. “Or maybe this is the line you want to cross?” Kirigan pulls me forward so suddenly I let out a tiny gasp. I’m not fully on the edge of the banya. “Or perhaps this one?” He kisses the skin of my inner thigh gently. Each time I exhale too loudly, his teeth graze my skin. He gets harsher with each passing second. “Lay down.”
My body listens to him on instinct. How is this happening? How am I this powerless to fight against something that’s so clearly wrong? The sound of water shifting causes my entire body to tense. He’s pulled himself out of the water. Kirigan moves above me instantly, water dripping from his toned chest and dark hair and onto my still damp nightgown.
Before I can speak, he’s on me completely, his lips pressing against my jaw. He kisses down my neck, his teeth grazing against my skin sporadically. He pulls away from me by tracing his tongue across my collar bone. I let out something dangerously close to a moan. “Such pretty, little sounds.”
“Kirigan--”
“The only name I want you to hear from your lips is the only name that I’ve not given myself. The only name that holds meaning to me.”
His lips graze where my skin meets the hem of my now soaked through nightgown. I’m not sure the poor lighting is offering me enough coverage now. There’s no way the thin fabric leaves much to the imagination while being this wet. He kisses up my chest and neck until his lips reach the shell of my ear.
“Aleksander.” The name is grace in the form of a breath so soft it’s more like I’m feeling the name than actually hearing it.
He presses his lips against the spot on my neck directly beneath my ear. I exhale into the contact. “Aleksander.” As I test his true name on my tongue, his teeth dig into my skin much more harshly than before.
I let out a partial squeak at the sudden shift in pace as his hands grip my waist. “Say it again. Say my name again.”
He traces his tongue gingerly over the skin he just aggravated with his teeth before I can speak. The soothing sensation is so much I can barely find my voice. “Aleksander.”
His hand bunches the bottom of my nightgown, raising the fabric to my hips. “...Say it just like that.” Kirgan’s rough hand slips between the bone of my hip and the fabric of my hip. “Like I’m the only one that knows you like this.”
“Aleksander.” I breathe as he traces invisible patterns into my skin with his lips. “Aleksander.” Each use of his name earns me extra attention--a stronger hold on my hip, a more adamant nip at the base of my neck. I feel my need for him so heavily I swear it’s leaked into my bones. “Aleksander.”
When he pulls away, I fight the urge to whine. The night is still humid, but with the absence of his touch I feel like I’m shivering. He regards me silently for a long moment before shifting his weight again. I feel my heart stall in my chest as his hand softly brushes a strand of hair out of my face. He lets his hand linger there, at the apple of my cheek. The entire world seems to stall as he leans down, his hand cupping the side of my face as his mouth inches closer to mine.
“I can feel the fluttering of your heart.”
Any poor defense dies in my throat as his lips meet mine. He gives me no time to think about what’s happening as he presses into me even harder. Kirigan holds my face as his teeth graze against my bottom lip. My mouth opens slightly in surprise, giving him the opportunity he needs to slip his tongue into my mouth. His tongue slowly brushes against mine, coaxing me into total, delirious, compliance. When he starts to pull away, I react, my hands flying forward to grab his hair. He lets me get away with tugging him towards me, prolonging the kiss as he bites my bottom lip.
One of his hands leaves my face and travels up the hands holding onto his hair. He pulls me off of him easily, pinning both of my wrists above my head with one hand. “Easy,” Kirigan warns, “You’ve been such a good girl, let’s not ruin it before we’ve started.”
A tiny sigh leaves me. I can feel the pride he takes in that as his hand trails further down my body. His fingers ghost along the hem of my underwear teasingly.
“Is someone there?” I’ve never damned the voice of a stranger more.
Panic and dread roll in my stomach. I’m going to get caught like this, with my nightgown bunched at my hips beneath the General Kirigan. An unclothed, wet, General Kirigan. “I’m bathing.”
Okay...good...Aleksander spoke. Anyone with common sense would run at the thought of invading on Kirgan’s privacy. It’s a good thing that the soldier had the sense to linger behind a thicket of bushes. “Pardon General, but there’s been a crucial development. A new strategy should be thought of as soon as possible.”
No. No. The thought of losing contact so entirely, of having a moment that should have never happened be ripped from me before it’s even really happened is overwhelming. I feel my lips pull into a pout. Kirigan’s hand adjusts on me, his thumb pressing teasingly over where I’m neediest. I bite my tongue to avoid making an inappropriate noise.
“Five minutes--I’ll be in the strategy tent in five minutes.”
“I’ll tell the others, General.”
Great. I hear the stranger disappear, his feet crushing twigs and grass as he leaves us. Aleksander’s attention returns to me quickly. Disappointment swells in my chest as I take in the solemn look that crosses his features. His hand moves to my chin quickly before pulling me into another deep kiss. It’s too short lived.
“I have to go.”
Frowning, I lift my hand to trace my fingers up his arm. It’s softer than I should allow myself to be, but it doesn’t really matter anymore. Not when this is probably never going to happen again. “Do you?” I mumble to myself, half joking.
He sighs once, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “No pouting.”
Now that whatever little bubble we were in has popped, I’m capable of normal feelings. Including shame. “I am n--”
“Easy, little dove, I’ll remember all of this when I find you again.”
This...this is going to happen again? “You’re going to find me?”
“I haven’t yet heard your voice crack on my name as I undo you.” He punctuates the promise with a kiss to my jaw. “Again.” Another kiss. “And again.” Another brush of his lips as he finally pulls away. “And again.”
My breath catches itself in my throat as he moves off of me entirely. Damn whatever change in the war that’s pulled him away from me so suddenly. I sit up as he stands. I’m not sure where to look now that he’s not in close enough proximity to cloud my thoughts. I should leave as he dresses, but I can’t quite bring myself to. It doesn’t feel safe, not when the man that interrupted us could reappear at any moment. Not when I want to hold onto his presence like this as long as possible.
He squeezes my shoulder warmly as he passes before bending down to press one more kiss next to where his hand is.
“Soon,” he promises again.
--
General taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33
#the darklling x reader#the darkling#the darkling smut#the darkling imagine#the darkling x reader msut#general kirigan#general kirigan x reader#general kirigan imagine#general kirigan x reader smut#aleksander morozova#aleksander morozova imagine#aleksander morozova x reader#grishaverse#grishaverse x reader#grishaverse x you#grishaverse imagine#grishaverse imagines#shadow and bone#shadow and bone fic#shadow and bone x reader#shadow and bone imagine#shadow and bone show#shaodow and bone netflix
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Hello?
Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Black!Reader
Word Count: 2.9k
Request: N/A
Summary: Neville and (Y/n) get high together often.
Warnings: drugs( weed lmao), swearing, making out
A/N: This was based on the specific lyric below from Hello? by Clairo ft Reji Snow. Pothead confident Neville is my favorite headcanon dfregfefe. I also felt like writing for Neville bc after reading a lot of @lxngbottom‘s fics I was DEEPLY inspired.
“Are you into me, like I'm into you?
Do you wanna do the things I wanna do with you?
You're so close, and yet so far
I wonder how you look when you're in the dark”
The Weasley siblings all found themselves in absolute bliss when their parents told them they were going on a getaway. Apparently Arthur had learned about muggle spas and thought it’d be a lovely idea to take his wife to one for a much needed vacation after many years she had been caring for her children (and sometimes their guess) without barely any breaks. The gaggle of gingers all found it to be quite a wonderful idea too, but for other reasons. Although they had varying reasons of why they were excited for their parents to leave the house, Ron’s being wanting to invite over the other ⅔ members of the Golden Trio, Ginny wanting to wear that skirt that her mum always told her was ‘just a tad too short, dear’, and lastly Fred & George wanting to try out new and exciting inventions there was that one thing that tied them all together: wanting to get blazed out of their fucking minds.
However, as quickly as that mischievous glint formed in all their eyes, their mother said something they all dreaded.
“Oh and by the way, we’re leaving Percy in charge!”
A collective groan was shared as the boy in question held a proud and cocky smirk that once again, he was the most trusted out of his siblings. However as per usual, Fred and George were not giving up that easily.
“What are we going to do?! You know Percy will rat on us!” Ron whispered yelled at the other three through gritted teeth. They all sat around the quaint little living room, distressed at what to do. Ron had already sent a text (is that what they were called? He wasn’t used to the muggle technology (Y/n) had got them all to use) to both Hermione and Harry telling them to pack their bags. He’d never live it down!
“Oh relax dear brother of mine! Me and Freddie here suspected something like this would happen so we came prepared. Right Fred?” George said with a smirk as he looked to his twin to the right of him. George nodded before pulling out an envelope.
“Exhibit A also known as ‘Blackmail dear Percival Into Leaving the House for the Summer.” he grin grew wider as he opened the envelope pulling out the photos. In the photos, Percy was shirtless during a party in the gryffindor common room. He had a half drunk bottle of fire whiskey in one hand and a blunt in his other which was held to his lips. “Wouldn’t it be a shame if dear ol’ mum and pop anonymously got pictures of their golden boy doing such awful acts?” he cooed, feigning a voice of disappointment.
“While you two idiots may not be helpful for jack shit else, leave it up to you to have a plan to get into trouble.” Ginny said rolling her eyes, a small smile forming on her face. “Well I guess that’s settled then. I’ll hit up (Y/n), Ron you hit up Nev and tell him to bring the loud. Lots of it too!”
-------------------------------------
That’s how they all ended up where they are currently. ‘Exhibit A’ was more than enough to get Percy packing his bags and leaving for a friends house after their parents had left. And of course, Hermione, Harry, (Y/n), and Neville had all shown up at the Burrow bright and as happy as ever.
Although many people dealt around Hogwarts, Neville’s weed was always the best. He grew custom strains which were infused with other magical plants that had all sorts of properties. You wanted it to taste and smell like cheesecake? Done. Something odorless that packed a mean punch? Also done. He took good care of his product and went through the precautions to make sure it was not only safe but also that he didn’t get caught. He wasn’t always an avid weed smoker though. Originally, a friend had suggested it to him to help with his anxiety which had increased over the years but eventually it became less of an anxiety reducer and more of a favorite pastime. And hell, it left him with a pretty fucking nice amount of galleons in his pocket. It was also how he had met her.
He looked up at her form as she sat across the shed, looking as radiant as ever. She was laughing at something but he didn't know what over the sound of the music. One of his favorite things about her was how beautiful the whiteness of her smile was in comparison to her rich brown skin. It drove him absolutely nuts. It had only been a few weeks since he last saw her but as usual there was something new about her appearance.
He let his eyes wander over the work of art that was (Y/n). Her hair was different, her usual shoulder length black box braids had been swapped our for a beautiful set of honey blonde faux locs that stopped at her waist. In addition to her septum, she now had a nose ring on the left side of her nose and- was that a smiley piercing? Her skin was glowing vibrantly under the different hues of gold of LED lights that corresponded with the music. His eyes shifted down to her chest. 'Hm, she finally got the other one pierced' he noted due to the fact that her crochet bikini top left only the best bits of her breast to the imagination. And then he got to his favorite part. Her legs. Her supple, plush, smooth as glass legs. This wasn’t the first time he had stared at them longer than needed. He couldn’t help it, they were so fucking thick. And, were those his shorts? She must've stolen them from him last smoke sesh. He didn't mind though, she pulled off those denim shorts well and they hugged her in all the right fucking places.
“Bloody hell Nev, what’s taking you so long to roll the joint? Are you already that gone?” Ron groaned as he threw his head back. Neville looked down at the half rolled blunt in his hands, continuing to lick and roll it skillfully.
“Shut up Ron, just hit the fucking bong and leave Neville alone. Ol’ dramatic ass.” there was that honeysuckle voice he loved. God he could listen to her talk for fucking hours. I mean he had before. Her voice was sweet in the center and rough around the edges, a thick american accent still prominent in her voice. He smiled at that, looking up at her to find her already looking at him. As he continued to roll, he licked a fat strip on the wrap before shooting her a wink.
“Thank you, petal.” he murmured quietly knowing she hadn’t heard as he looked back down at his hands finishing up. He grabbed the same lighter that he carried with him everywhere before lighting the end. As he was about to take a hit, a certain pair of gloss coated lips leaned over his shoulders taking a hit as she wrapped her arms around his upper half.
Ron groaned again in irritation. “I hate it when you get the first hit! You always leave that damn sticky shit all over the blunt.” as he glared at the girl. She giggled before crawling off the wraparound couch taking her place next to brunette ruffling his long shaggy hair. He had been growing it out recently for no particular reason (definitely not the girl to his right).
“Ron you always buggin on something, nigga shut the fuck up! That’s why when you hit the blunt you leave it wet. Ol’ soppy mouth nigga I swear to god. Share with Mione.” she retorted as she leaned into Neville’s side looking up at him. He smiled down at her before wrapping his arm around her bringing her impossibly close. They both loved each other's touch when they were high. Whenever he’d touch her in one spot, (Y/n) always felt it in another- especially between her legs. She leaned up, kissing his freckled cheek with a smile. “Hey sir, how’s my favorite doing today?” she questioned as he bent down, placing a kiss right below her ear.
“You know I’m always content when you’re next to me, flower. You don’t even have to question it.” he whispered in her ear before pulling back. She felt her face heat up as she rolled her eyes shoving him lightly. She crawled in his lap, straddling him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He instinctively moved one to her waist, stroking the smooth exposed sepia skin that was there for his enjoyment.
“You always talking some mess, Nev. Why don’t you do something bout it?” she said, motioning for him to hold the blunt up to her lips. He ignored her, looking into her eyes as he took a fat rip. He removed his hand from her waist, gripping her cheeks with it, rings digging into her skin. He leaned impossibly close as he shot gunned the smoke into her mouth. His lips hovered impossibly close to hers. ‘Finally’ she found herself thinking as she closed her eyes. However, the feeling of his soft pink lips never hit hers and she opened her eyes to find him smirking at her.
“And ruin this little game we have? Never.” He said, finally passing the blunt to her. If he had to be honest with himself, he was scared shitless. He was afraid if he actually did make that final move, jumped that final obstacle that she would be gone from his life. Sure, they made out all the time. It was normal for the two of them to get quite handsy with each other during smoke sessions but he found not even that being enough. He didn’t just wanna have his hands on her when he was high or wasted out of his fucking mind, he wanted her all the time. He wanted to sneak into each other's dorms and cuddle till wee hours of the morning. To carry her things to class for her. He wanted to live, breathe, and sleep (Y/n). But, is that what she wanted? He never knew.
She sighed softly to herself, contemplating. It was very apparent to her that Neville wanted her just as badly as he wanted her. So, why had he never jumped the gun? Did he not want more? Was he really content with this little cat and mouse game they had? He couldn’t be, she knew who he was at heart which was a romantic just as she was. She was pulled from her thoughts as she heard the familiar beat of Hello? by Clairo ft Reji Snow. She smirked at him, leaning her forehead against his as she began to grind softly on his lap.
“Are you into me? Like I’m into you. Do you wanna do the things I wanna do with you?” she sung to him softly, her (e/c) eyes meeting his hazel ones. He moved his hands up and down her body as she continued to grind her hips down on his. He let his hands travel to her ass, gripping it firmly. She leaned back slightly as she hit the blunt before returning the favor he had earlier. “You’re so close, and yet so far. I wonder how you look when you’re in the dark.” (Y/n) continued singing as kissed up his neck, nibbling at the junction of his jaw and neck. He took one of the hands from her ass, moving some of the locs that had fallen into her face. He quickly tossed the blunt out of her hand into the ashtray in the table in front of them before leaning in and kissing her with such strong intensity.
The honey blonde haired girl moaned softly, already putty in the boy’s hands. Neville always knew exactly what to do with his hands. Where to kiss, where to tug, where to bite. Anything but actually dealing with the problem between her legs. She tangled her hands into the back of his hair, matching his lip movement. As he continued holding her ass with one hand, he used his other to stroke her cheek gently. A stark contrast to the kiss they were in which was wet, rough, and fast. He trailed his tongue over her lip which she gladly accepted. Their tongues danced together lazily as sweat began to build up on both of them. She pulled away partly, a trail of spit connecting them.
“Take this dumb ass jacket off. It’s the middle of July.” She grumbled as she began to unzip it, leaving him in some muggle band shirt she had gotten him one year from the states. She leaned back in, continuing to move her hips to the beat of the song. Neville began to move his hips up to match her movements. “Oh? So you got moves now huh? Who taught you those?”
“Don’t play dumb petal, you know you did.” He responded before gripping at her neck with his ringed hand. She gasped softly, looking into his blood shot blown out eyes. The music, the lighting, his touch? It was all much too much to handle. Her senses were overloaded by pleasure, the jane in her system. He tightened his hand some, leaning in closer. “You’re driving me absolutely mad, darling. Do you know that? I’d do anything you asked me to.” the movement of her hips had stilled but he kept going. She could feel the imprint of his member through his pants. Suddenly it was the only thing (Y/n) could focus on.
“Them Ravenclaw girls weren’t lying then, huh? You packin like that Nev?” she said suddenly. She knew he had asked her something a second ago, but the weed was really starting to hit. Her brain was foggy and hazed, the only thing she could think about now was him. She took one of her manicured hands, trailing it down his shirt till she reached his crotch. She gripped it in her hands, eyes widening slightly. He chuckled softly, catching her attention.
“Don’t act so surprised. You know I used to get around quite a bit.” He said, moving so his tent was resting against her inner thigh.
“Used to?” she questioned, laying her head on his shoulder with her eyes closed. She took in his scent sighing softly. Neville always smelled like a mix of lavenders, cologne, and that loud. She knew it from anywhere, especially when she smelled it in the amortentia they brewed during potions that one time.
“Yeah I don’t really pipe girls like I used to.” He moved his hands up, embracing her close as he kissed the top of her head. “Ever since a certain pesky little American girl started making their way into my life, she’s all I could think about.” she rolled her eyes some, punching him on the arm as he began to laugh.
“Don’t fuck around like that, that shit aint even funny.” she grumbled, pouting as she crossed her arms. “I thought you had an actual answer!”
“On god that was my actual answer, (Y/n)! You asked why and I told you why. Absolutely anyone could tell I’m mad for you.” Neville said as he uncrossed her arms, holding her small delicate hands in his large ones. He intertwined their hands, her sharp acrylic nails digging into his hands slightly. “Did you know when Keaton Willis asked you to Hogsmeade, I was so mad that I wouldn’t sell to him for 3 months?!”
“But I didn’t even go with him! Me and you went together to go get ice cream, remember?”
“So?! He still fucking asked you. I’m getting heated just thinkin’ about it.” He mumbled as he looked away from her. He pulled her closer, resting his head on the top of hers. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you dating such a loser. He’s not even a good guy and he’s always fucking short with his galleons when he buys. I have to practically hound the guy for my money. Yknow what? Fuck it.” he looked up at the brown skinned girl before holding her face in both his hands. He took in her features. Her plump lips, edges laid to perfection, face ‘beat to the gods’ as she would say. “Go out with me. Be my girl, petal. I can’t bear you not being mine for another second.” he said. She pretended to ponder for a bit before she looked back at him.
“Depends, will I get free weed? I expect free weed from dating the weed man, you know.” she said with a giggle. He rolled his eyes shaking his head.
“You already get free weed! Don’t pretend you don’t.” he said loudly, catching the others’ attention.
“What? Nev that’s not fair! You always make me pay and we’re mates! What happened to bros befo-”
“Ron you finish that and you ain’t leavin this shed with an eye, I can promise you that boy.” she whipped her head around quickly, glaring at the boy. Ron quickly shut his mouth knowing first hand that her promises were never empty. He gulped slightly before nodding, turning back to Hermione who handed him the bong muttering something about how he looked like he needed it.
“But to answer your question, Nev baby, I’d love to be your girl. Nothing would bring me greater pleasure than doing so.” (Y/n) leaned forward, leaving a lip gloss print on his cheek.
“Well I’m glad you said yes because it would’ve been very awkward explaining to everyone tomorrow where that hickey on your neck came from.”
“Nev!”
#black reader#black!reader#poc reader#poc!reader#Neville Longbottom#neville x reader#neville longbottom x reader#neville longbottom x you#neville x you#harry potter imagines#harry potter imagine#Harry Potter
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omg hi i know this request sounds a bit hefty but hear me out: you’ve got y/n, and you’ve got her twin. they’re both exchange students but their school somehow messed up the application or there wasn’t enough space in one school whatever, so one of them ends up in nekoma and the other in shiratorizawa. then, they each decide to be the managers of that school’s respective teams. and then when training camp comes up, they finally meet each other again and are happy to be together but the rest of the teams are SHOOK (including their own maybe 👀👀) bc they didn’t tell their teams they had a twin. bonus points, inarizaki is there and the miya twins try to flirt w them (ships are up to you bc tbh anything sounds fun asf, idk i’ve had this idea in my head for so long IM AN ONLY CHILD I DONT EVEN HAVE A TWIN FKDKSKSKS) idk if you wanna just do headcannons go for it babes it’s a lot i know lmaooo
This is genius!! Omg, I’m not a twin either but I’m VIBING with this idea — I did headcanons because there was so muuchhh. I hope you like 💕
(T/n) = twins (first) name
>>>>—————————>
(L/n) Twins going to seperate schools and reuniting during a Shiratorizawa vs Nekoma practice match and Nationals:
• Due to unfortunate circumstances, (L/n) (T/n) had gotten into Shiratorizawa however, her twin sister (L/n) (Y/n) had to attend another school - luckily Nekoma had last minute vacancies.
• You stayed in Tokyo whilst your twin lived in the Shiratorizawa Dorms, it made seeing each other tricky but you always had video chats and since you were identical, it was easy to sneak into the dorms and stay for the weekend.
• You both loved Volleyball and had looked into your respective teams, (T/n) having the more famous one begrudgingly but being siblings... things got competitive.
“I’m going to become the manager of Shiratorizawa and I’m gonna take them to Nationals~” Was your twins cheery statement, whilst you playfully taunted her.
“Hah, more like they’ll take you, if I join Nekoma I’ll actually be useful.”
“No way - I’m a better manager than you (Y/n)!”
“Oh yeah?! Bring it on (T/n)! I’ll see you at Nationals - if you make it!” Thus, the challenge had begun.
• Nekoma and yourself had bonded, you’d heard the same about (T/n) and Shiratorizawa, it was like fate had gifted you your perfect matches in the end. Even if it meant being separated.
• It was around your second year with them that you’d heard about Karasuno, the once- upon-a-time rivals of Nekoma and how they’d organised a practice game with them over in Miyagi.
• You’d be playing other teams in the district to make it more beneficial... which is where your scheming came in.
“Hey, Tetsurō Senpai...”
“What do you want, you’re only ever so cute when you want something from me.”
“That’s not true! (Y/n)-chan is cute all of the time!” Yamamoto playfully punched his Captains shoulder, the latter reluctantly agreeing with a flush before clearing his throat and gesturing for you to continue.
“Think we could play Shiratorizawa whilst we’re over in Miyagi?”
“I’ll talk to Coach Nekomata and see what I can do, no promises though (Y/n).” Kuroo would do his best, you knew he tried for those he cared about, especially his team.
• It was no surprise then, that within 3 days you’d received a call from your twin.
“You’re coming to challenge me and my team (Y/n)?” The excitement in her voice, as well as that in yours was clear.
“You can thank Kuroo for that — you’ll finally get to meet my team!”
“And you mine! Tendō and Ushijima are incredible, I love them.” You’d spoken of respective players, shared stories and felt like you already knew part of each other’s teams despite never meeting them.
“Yes! I can’t wait - Lev isn’t coming with us, but Kenma and Yaku more than make up for it!”
“Lev is that first year you told me about right? I hope you’re ready to lose (Y/n), Goshiki is talented as hell.”
“And Nekoma is a unified machine, you’ll need a tissue to wipe away your loser tears~”
—
• Fast forward to the training trip, and the second you walk into Shiratorizawa you and your twin immediately rush over to each other, a collision of hugs, screams and excited conversation exchanged amidst the suddenly silent room.
• Tendō is the one to separate you both, guiding you to stand side by side as he leans in to inspect you both with a finger on his chin.
“Well well well, seems our Chibi-chan has a Chibi-chan 2.0~”
Ushijima doesn’t seem all that phased by the phenomenon, meanwhile Shirabu had to restrain the awed interrogation of Goshiki.
• Nekoma weren’t quite as calm, immediately Tendō hopped out of the way as Yamamoto tackled you, gawking between you and (T/n) whilst Inuoka attempted to null his yells.
“(Y/n)?! THERES TWO OF YOU?! DOUBLE THE BEAUTY!”
“Aw he’s cute, my team are never so nice to me.” (T/n) tutted, a subtle glare sent to Shiratorizawa - Satori being the one to stick his tongue out.
“Trust me, Yamamoto is the only one.” Cue your mirroring glare sent to a scheming Kuroo, whilst Nekomas Ace is still gushing over the two of you.
• The teams are moderately amused once the game starts as the main smack-talkers are you and (T/n) hollering over the court as you’d reached the Third Set at a tie. Friendships between both teams were formed due to your family relations.
• It’s not until the game is over and the Captains shake hands whilst you two hug it out with congratulatory words and playful insults that they start messing around again.
“C’mon (Y/n), we’ve gotta go~” Kuroo smugly states, purposefully slinging an arm around (T/n)s’ shoulders and guiding her out.
Before you had the chance to retaliate, Tendō gladly joined in.
“The Cat Captain is right, I’ve missed my little kitten anyway~” The redhead cheerfully gave you a high ten, intertwining your fingers in the process adding intimacy and offered a mischievous wink which you only laugh at.
• Nekoma are freaking out, that’s their manager and they’d know if you had a boyfriend, right? Yaku and Kai are quick to hold back Yamamoto with Kuroo suddenly sweeping you away from Satori since Ushijima had already reclaimed (T/n).
“That’s our kitten- ah manager.”
“And (T/n) is ours, but I look forward to seeing you at Nationals Nekoma.” The Captains bid one another farewell and you can only hope to play your twins’ team again.
—
• Shiratorizawa didn’t make it to Nationals (since Karasuno beat them) but (T/n) wanted to come and support you (bitterly). Ushijima came with her too since he’s the Captain and wanted to keep you two out of trouble. Plus he loves Volleyball.
• It’s when you’re checking the matchups do you encounter your beloved rivals, whilst Nekoma were distracted you went to scope out the area. ‘Luckily’ for you, you bumped into other competitors, the blonde ‘accidentally’ tripping.
“Woah, are you okay-“ Before you could finish, he’d interrupted all suave.
“Yeah, I just fell for ya that’s all~“
“-send me a postcard next time~”
There was a moment of silence, you impressed by the smoothness and him awed by the sheer sarcasm.
• The boy introduced himself as Miya Atsumu, Inaruzakis Setter and took note of your Nekoma jacket, asking you to watch him play if you got the chance. Especially if you become opponents.
• Bidding farewell, you found (T/n) with a bright smile upon her face, Onigiri in hand.
“The games haven’t even started and you’re eating.” Was your bemused observation, your twin scoffing with an innocent pout.
“I was hungry, and this cute player from Inarizki recommended the teriyaki Onigiri here so I brought some, wanna try?” (T/n) justified, showing the item to you.
“I met an Inarizaki player too, and I’m too nervous to eat but thanks (T/n).”
“Suit yourself, good luck and I’ll look for you later.” She rejoined Ushijima, the pair waving as you met up with Nekoma.
• It isn’t until after the first round beating Kiyokawa High School, before the Karasuno vs Inarizaki game that you’d encounter the Miyas again — or rather Atsumu approached (T/n).
“Yer scoping out the competition huh gorgeous? I don’t blame ya (L/n), ‘Samu and I are the best of the best.” The blonde proudly told (T/n), thinking you’d shed your Nekoma jacket to be inconspicuous.
“I— I don’t even know you? Wait, how do you know my name?!”
• Osamu meets the pair, and actually thinks it through, Atsumu on the other hand jumps to conclusions.
“We just saw eac-“ Hearing (T/n), Atsumu was quick to argue but Osamu kicked his calve.
“Shut it dumbass.”
“Hey, loser twin!” You called over, gaining the attention of her and the Miya Twins.
“Ah... ‘Samu there’s two of them...”
“That’s what I was gonna tell ya.”
• It must’ve been a twin instinct (twinstinct hehe) but yourself and Osamu could tell the individual differences/quirks immediately, hence how he’d figured it out so quickly. A mutual smile was shared as your respective twins continued their petty insults.
• “(T/n)! Ushijima is looking for you and I need to find Kuroo so...”
“Oh, yer boyfriends?”
“Uh - aha -no no, our Captains.” Your twin managed, flustered and embarrassed - you were glad she’d spoken because you were no better with the heat on your skin.
“Perfect, tell your Captains’ that we’re not sorry for keeping you~” Atsumu shouted as you both waved goodbye and headed back to the stands/courts.
• Nekoma won against Sarukawa Tech High, your next opponents currently battling it out on the court which you’d all raced to see - mainly for Karasuno.
But it was during the break after the first set that the twins approached the stands, well, you.
“(Y/n), ya won?” It was brave of Osamu to address you so casually but you didn’t mind.
“Of course, my team, my friends, are truly amazing. Our next opponent is either Karasuno or you.”
“You’ll be facing me- us- Inarizaki! Don’t you worry sweetheart.” It seemed whatever suaveness Atsumu once had was long gone by now.
• They played incredibly, but the entirety of Nekoma were glad of Karasunos’ victory, you’d taken a second to see the twins though.
“You were amazing, I’m grateful I got to see you both play. Looks like you won’t be facing me after all, sweetheart~”
“Yeah well- I— jus’ watch yer back next year beautiful. I’m comin’ for ya.”
“OHO! NOT ON MY WATCH PRETTY BOYS!”
“Yamamoto! Apologies for him.” Yaku forced the Mohawk to bow, Kuroo slipping an arm around your waist with a smirk. “But he’s not wrong.”
—
• You were staying with (T/n) for the weekend, utilising Shiratorizawas practice break to tell the tale of the Miyas and their flirting. The team were oddly protective over the both of you, but you hadn’t the time to question it with Goshikis inquiry.
“Okay, so if you two had children with the Miya twins respectively... would your children be identical?”
“...”
“...”
“We won’t have to find out.” If anyone else had said it you wouldn’t have believed them, but something about the certainty of Wakatoshi made you both smile.
<——————————<<<<
[ Masterlist ]
#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu headcanons#anime x reader#anime headcanons#shiratorizawa#nekoma
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I know we all positively *lost it*, hats down because, truly, what an episode:
Prof. Cerise is a big kid at heart and I respect that.
yeah, a nice legend!! ☺️☺️ (bless this child, he’s too pure)
research fellows count! (I just really love it every time their work is acknowledged)
in today’s episode of Ash’s hero complex is gonna get us killed one of these days ⬆️
you see my child’s face in these??? you see the split second decision he makes and how he is immediately determined to keep Suicune safe??? that is the resolve of a hero !! there was no greed and no premeditation, just quick-wit and a lot of heart. I’m so proud.
imagine being so in sync with your partner that they immediately know what you were trying to do, and have values so well-aligned that they’re ready to put themselves on the line so you can achieve your common goal. the stuff of soulmates, that.
I've seen you do this a handful of times this gen around, and it doesn’t get old. I love you, gods I love you. thank you for having such a big heart and being such a knucklehead. I truly adore you.
big sigh no comment they’re truly the perfect partners aren’t they. ugh. love.
bless you, Sobble, you were really gonna risk it all for your trainer, weren’t you, little one? (seriously though these two jumped to protect their trainer from a hostile force in a nanosecond, and prior to this Cinderace actually instinctually jumped to protect Suicune, talk about being in sync with your partner!! Cinderace is so good at reading the environment!! he’s a protector by nature !! and good at following its instincts, too !! proud !!)
it was all about character development so let’s also appreciate how my boy can now climb by himself !! his boyfriend wasn’t there to take his hand and pull him through but Goh is now an athletic boy as well and he did this with only a little sweat. kudos to that, too.
Ash had counted but invaluable moments in this episode. can we just take a moment to admire how he was stressed as well (balled fist and stealth pose), but still had the leadership to comfort Lucario??? this is the stuff Pokémon masters are made of, I've heard.
I'm in a lot of trouble and hiding but I still have half-the-mind to think of my better half, who is also in a lot of trouble and hiding, I really love him I hope he’s all right...
Raichu !! babygirl where have you been, good to see ya. I've also been racking my head trying to understand if Goh actually carries that big-old backpack empty on the regular? but he also magically manifested the sprays from within the backpack some moments later?? there’s a hanging pouch at the top??? I’m looking too much into it?? definitely. all in all kudos to his smart mind and his big heart.
was Goh trying to contact Ash here??? Officer Jenny?? my bet is on the former bc, well,,, of course. he sounded so worried, it must’ve been Ash. (Who has a phone for the kicks, it seems, because he never freaking picks it up...)
He literally just captured it, but is already so worried for their well-being, and you dare tell me this boy hasn’t grown?? that he doesn’t care for his Pokémon?? HÁ (also, two Pokémon in a day! kudos on a positive catch day for Goh)
my blood was boiling at watching those poachers attacking Suicune while it was already down. I'm in agreement with everyone else here who noticed how much Goh cared, how worried he was, and how his growth from chapter three until now shines in this moment.
bonus for his surprise/relief the moment he heard his friends to the rescue.
this sequence was power. also, Goh’s mantra count !! (no, but seriously, they are so impossibly well-matched for one another it’s not even funny anymore, I’m just a mess over their relationship).
“ - and don’t worry, I’ll look after Satoshi”
proud husband smile
Shoutout to lil Pikachu saluting Officer Jenny! sweet little thing, you.
IMAGE BEING SO IN SYNC WITH YOUR PARTNER THAT THEY IMMEDIATELY KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TRYING TO DO, AND HAVE VALUES SO WELL ALIGNED THAT THEY LOOK AT YOU THIS FONDLY BECAUSE THEY KNOW, THEY’VE BEEN HERE AS WEL AND THEY GET IT, AND THEY ARE SO PROUD.
the stuff of soulmates, that.
prolly gonna print this one, too. to remember how proud I am of Goh every single day.
Imagine --- well, you get it.
in case you missed it, Mr. Voiceover reminds us what really happened on this episode, Goh formed a bond with Suicune, he proved himself as a good partner/trainer, and earned Suicune’s trust. that’s what happened. he’s pure and kind and worthy of a legendary Pokémon’s trust, and he’s gonna continue growing and keep working hard towards his dream. he’s been mature and wise and big-hearted, and I love him. and that’s it.
#anipoke#pokemon journeys#goh#satoshi#SatoGou#Firstfriendshipping#journeyshipping#ep 53#I'm really just so proud of him#this episode was fantastic#Ash Ketchum#ash x gou#satoshi x goh
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Fic of Y/n sneaking around Claude (harder pre-time skip bc he has more free time) to bond with his wyvern that's still very young and during the post-time skip reunion she (dunno why I headcanon his wyvern as female) tackles reader to the ground? 🥺 Tooth-rotting fluff all around
Warnings: nothing Word Count: 779 Genre: Fluffff
WOAH TWO POSTS IN A DAY??? AMAZING. But anyways, OH MY GOD THIS REQUEST MAKES ME SO SOFT DSNHJFBASBFHJFJSKHFSBDJ. Also I totally headcanon Claude’s wyvern as female too so you’re not alone! A little rushed towards the end but oh well lol, I hope you like this Anon! ~Admin Hurricane
You peered around the corner, checking your surroundings before tip toeing your way into the stables. It was never easy sneaking around Claude, especially with how sharp he was. But as you drew close, you slowly pushed the door open. It creaked slightly, which caused you to freeze up for a moment before you slipped in. Scanning your surroundings, you sat down on the straw covered floor pulling out a fish you had just caught.
A little white snout poked out from underneath a pile of straw and you laughed softly, brushing some of it off. “There you are!” you said pulling her out. She squeaked in delight, jumping down from your arms to go after the fish. “Woah there, slow down! You might choke,” you giggled, pulling out a knife to cut the fish into smaller pieces. The little wyvern quickly wolfed down the fish, before nuzzling her snout against your hand. You sighed softly, looking outside to ensure no one had heard you, “You’re going to get me into a lot of trouble y’know? I don’t think I’m even supposed to be seeing you,” you said stroking her horns. The wyvern snorted, her yellow eyes glimmering in the darkness.
You hadn’t intended to discover the little white wyvern on purpose. You just so happened to stumble upon her one night while you were tending to your pegasus, and you had instantly fallen in love with her. Every night, before curfew, you snuck out of your room to go visit her. Initially it was rather hard to gain her trust, seeing as Claude was pretty much the only human she’d ever come in contact with. But after a little while, you’d finally managed to get her to trust you.
You sighed, carefully cutting up another fish and setting it down. You patted her head gently, before gathering up your things, “I’ll be back soon alright?” you said smiling gently. But that never happened.
Edelgard’s proclamation, the start of a war, it all seemed to happen so quickly. Too quickly. Friends turned to enemies, betrayal running rampant.
Before you knew it, five years had already passed. You pulled your scarf closer around your neck as you flew towards the monastery for the reunion. You knew everyone was probably far too busy to attend, but in your heart, you still had a glimmer of hope that they would show up. The war hadn’t been too kind to you, oftentimes finding yourself wandering from place to place trying to avoid conflict as much as you could.
As you neared the monastery, your eyes widened as you heard the sound of fighting coming from below. You directed your pegasus towards the fighting, worried it might be your friends. And true to your instincts, there they were. Without time to think, you quickly pulled out your steel bow, shooting down one enemy after another. There weren’t many left so all you had to do was clean up the few remaining stragglers. With a few shots, they were down and out for the count.
Scanning your surroundings once more to ensure that you had taken out all of the thieves, you swooped down guiding your pegasus to the ground. You hopped off before it’s hooves touched the ground, rushing forward to greet your former classmates. “You guys! He-” you were immediately cut off as a mass of white crashed into you. [I KNOW CLAUDE DOESN’T BRING HIS WHITE WYVERN TO THE REUNION AT DAWN FIGHT BUT LETS PRETEND FOR THE SAKE OF THE FIC 👀] You let out a yell of surprise before crashing to the ground. Your pegasus let out a shriek of alarm before cantering over.
You were alright, just completely caught off guard. “Hey! Don’t do that, you know it doesn’t wash out!” you laughed, trying to push away a white snout aggressively licking your face. Claude rushed over, his eyes wide with surprise as he reigned in his wyvern. “Y/N?”
“Hey Claude,” you said, standing up and wiping off the wyvern slobber. His wyvern broke free from his grasp to trot over to you rumbling softly. She nuzzled your face, her yellow eyes gleaming brightly. “Hey there, you’re so big now!” you cooed, rubbing her snout. She snorted, licking your face once more before walking back to Claude, a smug look on her face. “So uh...sorry about never telling you, but uh, I may or may not have bonded with your wyvern during our school days whenever you weren’t around.” you said chuckling sheepishly, patting your pegasus’ snout as it trotted over.
He was quiet for a moment before bursting into laughter, “You were always good with animals, I suppose I should have expected this.” He extended a hand out to you a warm smile on his face, “Welcome back my friend.”
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#golden deer#fe3h#fe3h golden deer#FEAR THE DEER#Claude von Riegan#khalid von riegan#does this even qualify as a claude x reader? tf#fire emblem#fire emblem fic#fire emblem three houses#fire emblem three houses fic#bro wyverns are actually so cute tho 😳#if you got the httyd ref in here you just won yourself a cookie#wyvern#fe3h fic#fe3h claude von riegan#fe3h claude
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on a foreign planet
gif credit: santigarcia
pairing: din djarin/the mandalorian x reader
summary: din isn’t too fond of touch, but after a particularly cold mission, he realizes just how important it might be.
warnings: uh is me being touch starved a warning bc if so oh boy
author’s note: got the cot inspiration from 1) the literal fucking cot scene-you know what i’m talking about and 2) miss birbs’ lovely fic @whirlybirbs
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from what you saw, it had been a faulty mission on tatooine. the minute he stepped off the lift of the crest and set out to look for something was the minute your gut tightened in an all too familiar feeling. you came to know it like the back of your hand-living and occasionally partaking in conversation with the mandalorian the leading cause. you learned to trust that ache and never questioned it despite many efforts to do so; desperate attempts to urge him to not leave the safety of his ship were made, and sometimes a laugh threatened to escape because of how silly you must’ve sounded. the mandalorian never listened and never would, so all you could do was prepare the emergency kit stationed within the cabinets of the cockpit.
he’d bust in whenever you’d least expect it. a weary hand clutching the side of his abdomen or a limped gait indicated he needed some form of assistance, and the responsibility was almost always yours. most of the time he never said a word, as was his usual demeanor, and just situated himself on the floor near your bed, his back leaning into the mattress. he knew you’d do it-care for him and restore his health-and now it’d be no different.
“i’ll be back before sundown,” din informed. his armor seemed to glisten more in the early morning rays than it did in the evening, an odd comparison you made when he entered the cabin. he stood proudly at the door, as he definitely should, wiping his pistol with a small rag and inspecting its crevices and compartments to ensure its performance. then he looked up.
you were sitting-cuddled, more like-in his pilot’s chair with the baby pulling on the strings of din’s blanket from the ground. short, high-pitched sounds came from him to gain attention. this isn’t yours, he wanted to say, but was stuck with the only language he knew: gibberish. “feel free to keep my blanket by the way,” the mandalorian assured, “you’ll need it for the blizzard tonight.”
“what blizzard? i thought it was just desert here,” you inquired, sitting up a bit in bewilderment. the blanket slid over your legs at the sudden motion, falling over the child still tugging at it. it covered his tiny head all the way to his tiny toes, outlining his (rather large) ears and torso. “maker,” you huffed after hearing a muffled, yet complaining coo, “what’s up with you today?” lifting the sheet with one hand, you brought the baby along with you and positioned it on top of your leg. “there. take a nap, will you?”
when you finally got the opportunity to look away, you captured a glance of din exiting the craft with his equipment in hand. you didn’t expect anything less; his attitude was meant to be cold and harsh. he didn’t have to say good-bye every time he left for a mission or tell you good morning whenever he woke up, yet you’d be lying if you said that the absence of these aspects didn’t take a toll on you. hell, a friendship would've been nice considering all the time you’ve spent with one another, but what you received would have to suffice.
it wasn’t often that you were left alone. somehow, and for some strange reason, the man who so earnestly follows his creed never lets the child or you out of his sight. it was fun at times; you bought the weekly groceries while din scavenged for an alien for its monetary value. a win-win.
“i’m gonna go in that room...” you pointed to the small door of the cot, “...and i’m gonna sleep for a while, okay?”
the child looked at you and gurgled a reply. it began pointing its ears forward as a cat would if it were content. his stubby hands, which were hard to differentiate between that or paws, reached upward to indicate his wish to be hoisted. “you wanna come with?” you asked quietly, and a set of miniature teeth that were barely there flashed in a wide grin.
the plan wasn’t to doze off for more than two hours. the siesta wasn’t meant to last through the whole evening either.
the quilt (that wasn’t rightfully yours) was too warm for you not to fall asleep. the baby cozied up in the junction of your arm and elbow with its fuzzed head against your shoulder. your legs and torso were contorted to accommodate the limited capacity of the bunk; it wasn’t the best position per se, but it did the trick.
on his way back from an assigned trade, the mandalorian’s field of vision turned foggy. a gloved hand that was possibly blue with the frost clung to his belongings in the same manner as when he’d left. to discard the items and shield himself from the falling snowflakes was what he wanted to do, but each slow, deep tread of his boots promised a closer distance to the comfort of his plane. snow developed into sleet as he neared the engine, with the droplets of water trickling down the “T” of his visor serving as a fun game of ‘which drop will reach the bottom first?’ it was childish in itself and not in the slightest bit appropriate for his current conditions.
when the sleeve of white beneath his shoes became metal, his back straightened with a few cracks (one of his perks, he liked to say). his brain was running automatically, directing his steps and turns to where he could find one fragment of peace: the cot.
he knew you were inside. the visibility his helmet equipped him with was astonishing; a single click of a button and the steps you took during his leave would be all his to analyze and detail. the same trembling hands from before reached for the latch and opened the door of the compact room. he tried to speak as clearly as he could without arousing a scare in the child or you, a free palm gently grasping and shaking your ankle.
“hey,” he whispered. “canyouwakeupplease?” it came out rushed and scrambled, his teeth chattering in between syllables.
“din’ika?” you slurred, voice heavy with sleep. “what time is-okay, why are you holding my feet?”
“needed s-something to wake y-you up,” din shivered. he took a step back, and for the first time that day, you fully saw him. there wasn’t much light in the space besides the one light coming from the cockpit but the shape of his beskar helped diminish your fatigue.
“maker, din, you’re freezing. get inside.”
he didn’t hesitate or fight your suggestion as he typically did. instead, with some trouble, he gradually squeezed himself inside the little space as you slid up the mattress. you swallowed a giggle when the top of his head hit the ceiling because, well, it’s funny.
“don’t l-laugh at me, i’m c-cold,” he said.
“i know you’re cold,” you smiled.
din made the choice to sleep on his back, while your option was to lay on your side and the baby in the middle. it wasn’t horrible. the three of you could live with it.
a few minutes followed before you felt the cold leather of his fingers encircle the tips of yours. the sensation was new; an experience that wasn’t in the script for him. he was afraid of how you’d react. is this too tight? too clammy? i’m wearing gloves, it doesn’t even matter. no wait, yes it does.
the thoughts stopped as abruptly as they came. he felt the air surrounding the room span across the skin of his wrist, and then the top of his hand. it flowed beyond that to the beginning of his fingers until his covering was completely off.
your hand was warm and it fit so perfectly in his when you melded it together. a sharp breath hitched in his throat, unaware of how to speak and how to act. in this moment, din’s instinct demanded him to turn away and be who he was presumed to be, but that was nearly absurd now with his hand wrapped in yours.
“is this okay?” you spoke softly.
he squeezed his eyes shut as if it would dissipate him from existence, trying to overlook your breath fanning into the opening of his suit. “yes. is this alright with you, too?”
“yeah. it is.”
#din djarin x reader#the mandalorian x reader#din djarin x y/n#din djarin fanfiction#the mandalorian x you#the mandalorian fanfiction#the mandalorian x y/n#the mandalorian#din djarin#star wars#star wars fanfiction#pedro pascal#all my fics w din include hand holding LMAO#it's cuz its cute#my writing!
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hi<3 okay i am finally writing the new kotss chapter, and once again here is a lil contemplative snippet of tumblr-drabble length as a preview for when i write the whole thing in a day or two!😌💜 (mostly bc i am feeling sleepy and sappy this morning about mickey’s growth and just. cannot get over it.)
hope u enjoy<3
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He fucking loved the dog, okay?
When they were first waiting in that overly-bright room in the dog rescue center (or whatever the fuck it was called) with Ian sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of him, and Mickey had seen the bundle of fur with its paws hitting the ground, a scrawny puppy with a swollen belly and a protruding ribcage— he’d immediately known he was in trouble.
First, because there was no fucking way that Ian was going to let them leave this place without it, since he practically made heart-eyes the second the puppy stumbled its way over to him— and second, because Mickey was absolutely, totally sure that he was going to fuck this up. Even reading the fucking description on the website on Ian’s phone screen, “comes from a troubled past and needs a loving home,” made something twist in his gut— because how the fuck was Mickey supposed to provide something like that?
Mickey didn’t take care of shit like this, like fragile puppies or babies or anything he could mess up— and he especially didn’t let in anything more than he could handle losing, anything soft and helpless and innocent that he couldn’t let slip between his fingers on his own accord. He’d learned that shit early, when whatever whispers and soft traces of touches on his cheeks were ripped away by the pry of Terry’s calloused hands— when one day, when he was fifteen, he and Mandy and everyone else didn’t have a mom anymore. Losing his mom, losing his family after years on the road, even losing fucking Terry those now months ago; all of that shit compounded and pressed on the walls of his ribcage in a way that Mickey himself didn’t really understand, and apparently was oozing out of him in a fucking dog shelter as he stood there frozen, in the face of a helpless frame on wobbly legs with silky grey fur.
For some reason, even though he and Ian had been talking about the dog in the abstract for days now, something about seeing the dog scared him shitless— because taking care of shit was objectively scary, and Mickey was shit out of practice with it. He’d never been good, comfortable, at holding something fragile in his hands, something that he could mess up in a second with a slip of judgement. Mickey was great at getting shit done, but with something like this— well, honestly, he wasn’t sure if he trusted himself enough, to not make those split-second choices that Terry made, the ones that left cigarette burns on his sides and snapped his jaw out of place and left him with so many aching wounds that only became more dark and cavernous through the years.
I’m gonna fuck this up.
What if he got too mad and kicked the dog, what if he fed it the wrong shit and it withered away and became more frail than it already was, what if it ran away or got hit by a car or got fucking shot by a stray bullet in a shitty neighborhood? It felt scary to choose to care about something this fragile, to sign up for the loss and the ripping ache that would follow if Mickey overreacted or fucked something up or made a slip-second misstep. In the Milkovich family, loving was a liability— a promise that someone you cared about could get pummeled and bloodied and beaten in front of you, could get handcuffed and dragged upstate for months or years in the blink of an eye. When Mickey was fifteen, scratching “FUCK LOVE” and “STAY THE FUCK OUT” signs on pieces of cardboard with Sharpies he’d stolen from the dollar store, he’d made a promise to himself to harden himself against that weakness— against that loss.
And then, of course, freckle-faced chicken-legged Ian Gallagher showed up at his doorstep anyways.
So he’d let himself love Gallagher—and eventually he’d let himself love Franny after she plopped herself in his lap one day, wearing a princess tiara talking a mile a minute about monster trucks; and he didn’t even mind hanging out with Liam once in a while on those late nights in the Gallagher house, when Ian would be working a double shift and he and Liam flopped on opposite sides of the couch, watching shitty cartoons in a comfortable silence as the glow from the TV screen flickered on their faces.
But none of that felt like a choice—all of those people, those warm bodies to love, just fell into Mickey’s lap; so it wasn’t Mickey’s fault, really, if shit hit the fan. It wasn’t like he made the choice to love them in the first place— it just happened.
But adopting a dog (or having a fucking kid, like he knew Ian wanted)— that was a choice. That was telling something, someone, that you were ready to take care of them; that you were ready to lose everything when they inevitably got taken away, that you were ready to pour all of your fucked-up bullshit into someone and hope that you weren’t the reason why they turned out screwed up. It just seemed like too much; and in the face of the tiny fucking furball that Ian was cooing over as he sat cross-legged, Mickey’s immediate impulse was to keep his distance and tether himself into the linoleum floor miles away.
But of course Ian had done that fucking thing only he had the power to do, and melted whatever iron walls Mickey had soldered into place with a gentle Mick, d’you wanna pet her?— and of course the fucking dog had to nuzzle her goddamn tiny wet nose into Mickey’s hand, and give a too-trusting lick to his palm as she rolled over onto her back, exposing her vulnerable belly even after whatever fucking dog-fight bullshit she’d been through— and immediately Mickey couldn’t couldn’t see a timeline in which they didn’t wrap this fucking mutt up in a soft towel and take her home to the dog bed in their apartment and get her healthy on gourmet fucking dog food from a monogrammed tin bowl.
So even though it drove him fucking crazy that she was so fucking skinny, and the entire first night when she’d slept curled on the bed he kept waking up and googling the best dog foods and exercise regimens and refilling her water bowl at the kitchen sink like an obsessed fucking maniac— he really couldn’t help it.
Against every instinct, he’d chosen to love when he didn’t have to— and he was starting the realize that maybe that shit wasn’t a weakness.
**
“So, I hear you guys’ve got a new mascot.”
Tommy was ambling in the front door, right on the dot of their 2 P.M. opening time, with Kermit skittishly following a few paces behind him.
Ian rolled his eyes from behind the bar when he thought Mickey wasn’t looking (fucking traitor).
“Yeah, I think the whole neighborhood knows by now. Someone’s been a little too eager with the dog photos.”
Which— fuck that. So what if he fucking posted a few pictures of Baz to the mostly-defunct Alibi Facebook page that Kev had given them the login info to, some of which featured Baz wearing Mickey’s sunglasses when they were partway through a walk? Nobody needed to know that Mickey alone was behind that shit— Ian liked taking dog photos too, even though they were never as good as Mickey’s, and mostly just featured the moments Mickey was passed out on the couch with Baz sleeping on his chest.
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Ian grinned and turned towards Mickey. “Nothin.’ Just nice to see that you’re growing into the whole dog parent thing. Though it is kind of turning into a stage mom thing.”
Mickey furrowed his brows. “Fuck you. The customers love her. It’s good for business.”
Ian held up his hands in surrender, still smirking—which just cause Mickey to shove him gently in his sternum.
“It’s not my fault Baz is the prettiest pit on the fucking Southside.”
In the corner of the bar, Baz was sitting on her cushion that they’d bought at a boujee pet store down the road, to keep downstairs at the Alibi so they could keep her other dog bed upstairs— and when Tommy and Kermit came into the room her ears immediately lifted, her tail twitching excitedly at the new faces. Tommy just gave a wary side-eyed glance to the dog pillow before plopping himself onto his usual stool, but Kermit nervously crouched beside the cushion and gave Baz’s chin a scratch.
“Ey! Paws off the princess until you drop some money on a beer, Kermit. I didn’t haul myself down to the empty bar on a Monday afternoon to watch you pet my fucking dog.”
Kermit shuffled to his usual seat beside Tommy at the end of the bar. “She’s cute. I didn’t realize pit bulls could be so scrawny.”
Baz was already filling out fast in the few days she’d been living with them; but it was true that she was still small and wiry for her age. Mickey made sure they got some sort of fresh dog food shit from the pet store that they had to keep in the refrigerator (even though Ian insisted kibble was fine, like a fucking cheapskate) to get her strength up, and he also got a bunch of fucking vitamins, like salmon oil and shit to make sure her coat was shiny—and yes, okay, maybe he also bought her a badass collar with spikes on it, and maybe he also dropped money on one of those engraved pet tags in the shape of a skull and crossbones that said “Bazooka Gallagher-Milkovich” on it with the Alibi’s address on it. He couldn’t fucking help it; they had a steady stream of cash coming in from crowded nights, they were planning on doing Ian’s karaoke shit once a month, and Mickey felt like they could afford to spend money on shit like this—like they could afford to do this right. And because of Mickey’s doting, even though Ian had started to take Baz for runs in the morning, it was no secret that she liked Mickey ever-so-slightly more than Ian; when they were laying in bed at night Baz would always hop up and curl into Mickey’s side and leave inches between her and Ian, causing a surprised chuckle to escape Mickey’s lips the first time it happened as he scratched behind her ears. Ian just stared at him, with some sappy fucking smile on his face.
“The fuck’re you looking at?”
“Nothing. Just glad we took her home.”
Mickey rolled his eyes, but felt a smile creeping onto his lips despite himself. “Yeah. Me too.”
“And I’m definitely not jealous of a dog right now.”
**
It was later in the evening and the bar was pretty empty, a standard for a Monday night— Mickey had been trying to train Baz to stay on her cushion now that she’d learned how to sit and lay down on command; much to the amusement of Tommy and Kermit, who kept fucking distracting her. If Mickey had his way, he’d train Baz to bark at Kermit whenever he said something stupid (the guy just got on his fucking nerves, what could he say)—but of course Baz had other plans once she realized Kermit was the one of the pair who would pet her, and kept nuzzling her head onto Kermit’s thigh and thumping her tail on the floor.
“I thought pit bulls were supposed to be vicious.”
“Fuck you, Kermit. That’s fucking… dog racist, or some shit.”
Kermit just meekly looked down at his half-empty beer glass, as Ian came in the front door from where he was bringing in the sandwich board from the curb, not expecting any more customers for the night. He reached down to ruffle Baz’s fur along the way.
“How’s our girl doing?”
“Pretty good. Once these assholes get out of here we can called it a night.”
Tommy scoffed at that. “Milkovich, we’re some of your most loyal customers— hell, we’re your only loyal customers. I think we deserve more than insults.”
“Oh yeah? You gonna go drink the day away somewhere else?”
Tommy faltered for a moment, and raised an eyebrow. “Touche.”
“Alright, bozos. Time to pack up. No one else is coming in tonight, we’ll see you tomorrow. Me and Ian have better shit to do.”
Tommy drained the last of his beer, placing a wad of one-dollar bills on the countertop and giving an exaggerated salute. “Until tomorrow, gentlemen.”
When they left the bar and the doors were locked, Ian’s shoulders started to shake with laughter. “Jesus. I never thought I’d be at a point in my life when I’m dependent on the consistent generosity of Tommy and Kermit, but here I am.”
“More like consistent alcoholism.”
Ian smirked, then flopped to sit on a barstool opposite the countertop from Mickey, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Are you fine taking Baz out? I’m kinda tired, wanna get a start on dinner.”
“Yeah, man. Works for me.”
They’d been living with each other in the Gallagher house for months, sure, but they were still new at doing this— at only accounting for each other’s schedules, at divvying up tasks like walking the dog and cooking dinner and doing fucking dishes rather than just coasting on someone like Debbie getting them by. Things were different now— things were settled and quiet, in a way that still made Mickey like he had to rub his eyes extra hard to clear them in the still, dark mornings in the apartment, like he wasn’t convinced this shit was real.
After dinner they sat cross-legged on their bed, watching a movie on Ian’s old beat-up laptop with Baz sitting between them and chewing on one of her toys that squeaked loudly every few seconds (this one was a stuffed animal in the shape of a police officer, because in Mickey’s own words at the pet store, “ACAB motherfucker”)— and later that night, wrapped in the smell of laundry soap on clean sheets and dog shampoo, Mickey slept easily.
Maybe this was something he could trust himself to hold on to.
#catch me laying in bed & ignoring my exams & instead writing This#ily all i hope u are having good thursdays<3#gallavich#gallavich fic#shameless#shameless fic#bazooka gallagher milkovich#ian gallagher#mickey milkovich#ian x mickey#ixm
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I got inspired by a vocaloid song I liked when I was 13. Its ok bc Azul :)
It’s demon! Azul! that is probably the most obvious au i can think of, but its okay and I do not feel bad.
Warnings: manipulation, soul stealing, nightmare mention, implied yandere
It was another restless night. You were used to it at that point, looking up at your ceiling and hoping beyond hope that you would fall asleep. And you were tired, no one could deny that. It was just the idea of seeing…
You didn’t want to think about the nightmares that you were having. They were awful. You always found you in such a terrible inky black world, felt as if your heart was being torn from your chest. It would seem your body would rather be asleep than experience that over and over. But it led to your current dilemma.
It had been three days now. You needed to sleep soon, lest you pass out during work or worse. You needed to sleep. This sick cycle had been going on for a month now, getting nightmares then staying up for ages until you passed out and had more nightmares.
You huffed as your body seemed only to get more restless, pulling you out of your bed. You went over to the window and pulled it open, hoping to get some air. You sighed as you looked up at the moon. The full moon has just passed. Maybe it was the light that was making you so restless. Once the New Moon came, you would be able to sleep with how dark the sky became. You hoped. It seemed that with the month you had been suffering, it was all just terrible hopes and wishes.
“It’s a bit late for stargazing, isn’t it?” You immediately turned to the voice that seemed to creep up out of nowhere, only to see… A man? No, this thing wasn’t a man. Although he had the features of one, there was something off about the look of his eyes. He was beautiful, fancily dressed with a good hat and a freshly pressed shirt. He wore fashionable glasses and had a rather nice coat, to the point where one may suppose that he may be a gentleman of sorts. His silver blue hair fell just past his ears, but you could see them poking out just a little. You noticed a point to them and steeled yourself. Despite his looks, he was no gentleman. You could already tell such a thing.
“I was just going to go to bed. Apologies if I had interrupted your walk.” You said, turning you back immediately and moving to your bed without closing the window. But the man only laughed, choosing to let himself lean against your windowsill and and gently lean into your room.
“You will be? That’s a shame. I had heard you haven’t been able to sleep at all. I was hoping I would have someone to talk to at this late hour.” He said. You flinched, turning your head. You were ready to snap at the being in front of you, but his expression was so gentle.
“Where did you hear that?” You asked, trying to keep your voice smooth. Who knows what would happen if you made some being at your windowsill angry? But he laughed, leaning his head against his hand.
“You know, usually you ask the name of the person you’re talking to before asking questions.” He told you, as if gently chiding a child. “But I hear most everything. Every crone will gossip about any young person they see. Especially one drifting off at their job.” He said. You pursed your lips, looking away.
“I… I’m trying my best. I’ll be able to sleep tonight, don’t you worry.” You said, moving over to the window to get ready to shoo away this mysterious stranger.
“You will? With the nightmares you’ve been having? You know, I know just the cure for those sorts of dreams.” The man told you. It was the word cure that made you pause. You wanted to question again how he knew about your nightmares, but you were sure you’d get the same answer as before. Something told you that he wasn’t all that forthcoming. And besides, you had told your coworkers and friends about it. Had he overheard you?
“You can…?” You paused and shook your head. “I’m not interested in any sort of sleep medicine you have. I don’t really have time for a sales pitch, Mr…” You really had never asked his name, had you? He only smiled.
“Azul. Please, it’s no medicine.” Azul hopped through your window as if it were nothing, moving to seat himself in your desk chair as if he owned the place. You were shocked at how absolutely comfortable he was to look around your home, to set himself comfortably. It was if he was able to go and make himself tea as well. He motioned for you to sit, and for whatever reason, you obeyed. You sat down on the edge of your bed across from him, just staring at him wide eyed.
“Have you ever considered magical intervention for this problem?” Azul asked you. You blinked. Magic…? You looked away, almost shuddering at the thought.
“We don’t have magicians and stuff like that around here. It’s looked down upon.” You responded meekly. He only scoffed at the idea.
“Well now, then there’s your problem. You’re not willing to explore ideas outside of your comfort zone.” Azul said in a bit of a harsher tone. You looked away, curling in on yourself. You were doing the best that you could, right? But, as soon as Azul saw it, he smiled. “Ah, but don’t worry. I have the solution here for you.” He told you. You blinked, looking at him before speaking again.
“And… And you really think that this will help me?” You asked. “Do you really think you’ll be able to help me sleep?” You asked. Azul gave you a lovely smile as he held a hand to his chest.
“Of course. I would never lie to you. I will be able to make you sleep, no doubt about it. You’ll just have to pay me back once you do.” You turned pale at the thought of payment, already grabbing your wallet to try and see how much you had.
“Ah, don’t bother with that. I could never accept a payment up front. After all, what if it doesn't work?” He chuckled. “Of course, it will, but I like to make sure my customers are insured.”
“W… What exactly is going to be the cost?” He was some sort of demon. You could feel it, see it even. But there was something so inexplicably beautiful about him, from those blue eyes to the mole on his chin like a drop of the most exquisite ink. It comforted you, just a little.
“Oh, nothing much. Don’t worry, I tend to like things humans usually don’t even think about. Things that rarely cross your mind.” He hummed. Well, that would be simple, right? Did he really just like trinkets and such? It might be risky, but… God, you were so tired. No other method had worked, and you knew Azul knew that. It would be fine, right? Something you rarely thought about… Well, it couldn’t be that hard.
“Fine. I accept, please. Just help me.” You said. Azul smiled, standing up as he held up his hand.
“Then it’s a deal. I’ll come back on the New Moon to check on your progress.” He told you, before taking your own hand and raising your pinky up. “Why don’t we make a nice promise? I always think young people like these sorts of things.” Ah, was Azul a lot older than you then? But he looked the same age you did. Still, as he raised your pinky, it seemed as if he wanted to make a promise with you like that. You couldn’t help but laugh as the two of you made your small pinky promise.
But, your laughter didn’t last long. The moment Azul pulled away from you, you felt an intense drowsiness fall over you as you instinctively crawled into bed. Azul looked over you with a smile, much more satisfied than the last few he’s given you. He walked to your window, ready to leave before calling out to you again. Your eyes were just barely fixed on him, your eyelids feeling oh so heavy.
“Have a pleasant evening, (Y/n).” And with that, you fell into an empty sleep.
When you woke up the next morning, you burst up, looking around. You really… Were able to get a good night’s sleep? Was all of that with Azul just a dream? You got up and saw that your window was still open, a gentle breeze blowing your curtains back. You looked around outside, but there weren’t even footprints. He really was just gone.
“Maybe it was all a dream…” You decided not to worry too much about it. After all, you slept. You felt rested. And that was enough for you.
But, that didn’t last for long. After a few days, it felt as though sleep wasn’t helping at all anymore. Although you could fall asleep now, every time you woke up, you felt just as tired as when you were awake. Your sleeps were empty, like death itself. It was definitely not as troubling as before, but still. You were still exhausted. After a week, you were in the same position you were in before. Falling asleep at work, dozing off left and right. But this time, sleep was just doing nothing for you.
On the night of the New Moon, you stayed up on purpose. If Azul didn’t show up, you had a strange dream, and if he did, you had words. Many, awful words.
But, when your clock had just struck three, there was a gentle knock on your window. You got up, unlatched the window and pursed your lips as you saw Azul. He was as handsome as ever, smiling at you with wonderful kindness. He easily pulled himself through your window.
“You’ve been able to sleep, I see. Are you enjoying it?” Azul asked. You immediately huffed.
“I can sleep, but I’m still tired all the time. It’s like my sleep doesn’t even matter.” You told him. Azul immediately laughed.
“Well, of course. You haven’t been dreaming, after all.” He told you as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. You blinked.
“What are you talking about?” You asked.
“I suppose that maybe you’re not the type of person to remember your dreams, then? Well, allow me to explain.” He already sat to take his place at your desk, sitting down and leaning back. And, like an obedient student, you were already sitting on the edge of your bed, ready to listen.
“It’s about the sleep cycle. In the most important step, where you are getting the most rest, you’re dreaming. It’s like a filler portion your brain puts in.” Azul tells you. You felt yourself getting pretty angry at that. Of course you could never trust a demon like that. They always have something to pull.
“Well, then why didn’t you give me dreams? You took away my nightmares, but you didn’t put anything there to replace it?!” You snapped. Azul tilted his head to the side as if he were a confused dog.
“You never asked. I don’t do things that people don’t ask me to do. It always seems to end up terribly.” Azul replied, as if it were the most simple thing.
“Well, now this has turned out terribly too.” You huffed. Azul sighed.
“Well, that’s the reason I take payment afterwards. After all, I can’t take payment from an unhappy customer, can I?” Azul said, standing up. He took your hand and gently pulled you up, using his free gloved hand to run along your cheek. Azul, despite everything, truly was beautiful. Perhaps that was the danger of him, or of demons in general. They were too beautiful. It was as though the tricks that they play weren’t out of malice, but out of pure foolishness on both ends. Foolishness to not assume and foolishness to believe a demon would ever not twist his words.
“How about I make you some dreams then? I’ll make you the most lovely dreams. Sweet stories and savory fantasies. Would you like such a thing? You’ll be able to dream to your heart’s content.” He told you. You should know better than to say yes to such a thing. And yet, you couldn’t help but ask.
“And… And the payment will be the same?” You asked, hoping that he would tell you that it would be awful this time, that he would scare you into refusing. But Azul only smiled.
“Of course. Like I said, I’ll never take payment from an unhappy customer.” You felt his hand rub against your back as the other held your chin. When… When did you get so close to him? It was dizzying, this whole experience. You blinked up at him, nodding slowly. Azul hummed in delight.
“Then… Shall we seal this promise with a kiss?” He asked, and you couldn’t refuse. As Azul’s lips pressed against yours, you felt your eyelids get heavy once more, whatever magic Azul had activating and starting to lull you to sleep. It was a chaste kiss, but long. It was as if Azul was savoring it, only pulling away when he was satisfied. He easily pulled you up into his arms and placed you on the bed, turning his back to you as he moved back to the window.
“Then, I’ll return on the full moon. I hope to hear about how happy you are then.” He turned to you, looking at your sleepy face once more before smiling.
“Sweet dreams, (Y/n).”
And you did have sweet dreams. That night, you dreamed of such wonders. Of houses made of sweets, of a prince to sweep you off your feet with silver glasses and a mole on his chin. It was all so wonderful that when you woke up, you wanted to go right back to sleep. You saw your open window and smiled. Finally, things would get better. About time.
And they did get better. For you, at least. Maybe not for the people around you. Because, as you slept more, the more you wanted to sleep. All you wanted to do anymore was sleep, sleep, sleep. You were rested when you were awake, sure, but your dreams were so pleasant. You were so happy being asleep. You continued dreams with your prince, to dream of love and eternal bliss. It was like a paradise you could never escape from. The only anxiety that plagued you was once again, Azul.
What was it exactly that he wanted from you? Soon, he would be coming for his payment. What was it that he wanted? You tried to think of things people didn’t think about often. Maybe cheap things? Or squirrel skin? Or maybe people didn’t think about lost fingernail clippings. But any idea that came to your mind felt stupid. You just had to wait. And the waiting was the most terrible part.
But, the full moon came. Time never slows down, and it moves extra quick for those who are always sleeping. When Azul knocked on your window, you opened it gently. You didn’t want to seem afraid, but you were just unsure of what to even give. But Azul greeted you warmly, coming through your window gently. Really, now that you think about it, he looked a lot like the prince from your dreams. How strange.
“I see you’re doing very well. That makes me really happy.” Azul told you. You did your best to smile back, nodding.
“Yeah! Of course, now I sleep a bit too much, but that’s more of my own fault than yours.” You replied, trying to keep yourself light. Azul just hummed.
“That’s good. That’s another happy customer I have under my belt then.” Azul told you. Usually, now was the time he would sit down and explain how payment would work, but he simply stood there, smiling at you. You let yourself stand in the silence as it grew awkward, before Azul finally spoke up.
“Well, as for payment… I’m sure you’re already aware, right?” He asked you. You shook your head slowly, trying to figure out what he meant.
“Actually, no. But if you tell me what it is, I’ll get it for you right away, I promise!” You told him. Azul chuckled a bit.
“Ah, but you already have it right here.” Azul told you, pulling you into his embrace. It was tighter, more possessive than you expected it to be. “After all, it’s quite hard to lose your eternal soul, at least for a human.” You went pale, starting to squirm to try and get away from Azul, but his grip was iron tight.
“W-What?! Why didn’t you tell me?! You said it would be something I don’t think about?!” You told him. Azul only laughed.
“Humans don’t think about their eternal souls often, I don’t think. If they did, they wouldn’t do foolish things so often.” Azul replied, touching your cheek gently. “As for not telling you… You never really pressed me on the matter, so I thought it was okay.” He replied. You felt your blood run cold as you turned your head away from Azul, starting to cry. He tutted you gently.
“Oh, why are you giving me such a sad expression? This is reality here. After all, you were only dreaming anyway. What’s the point in dreams if you don’t ever try to put them into action?” he told you. You weren’t listening. You only continued to cry, to cry for yourself. You can never trust a demon, no matter how beautiful they are. And you were learning that far too late.
Azul sighed as he lifted you up, placing you onto your bed. You tried to curl up, but Azul easily climbed on top of you, entwining his hands with yours and letting his nose brush up against yours.
“Don’t worry, darling. It’s not so bad to be with me. Just let yourself fall into one more dream that I’ve made for us.” Azul told you, leaning to let his lips brush gently against yours in a not quite kiss.
“Now. Fulfill your end of the bargain.” And you had no hope of saying no as Azul descended upon you in another kiss. It was rougher this time, with teeth and tongue, but it didn’t matter. All you truly felt was despair as you felt your eyes droop. You felt a sharp pain and the taste of blood as you started to fall asleep, looking up to see Azul pull away from you. The last thing you saw was a satisfied smile on Azul’s face, with blood staining his teeth.
…
Hey, have you heard? It’s about that person who fell into eternal sleep.
They say that if you go out on the full moon when the clock strikes three, you might be able to see them on the arm of a handsome man. Of course, that’s ridiculous, right? Only a fool would believe such stories. After all, at that late, everyone must be dreaming. But the man always looks so happy as he walks with them, don’t they?
They say at that time, the person sleeping starts to cry.
#azul ashengrotto#azul ashengrotto/reader#twisted wonderland/reader#twisted wonderland#twst/reader#yandere/reader#yandere x reader#My writing#mine#sfw
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