#and then you wake up! it's over! you're fine! it's fine!

[malfoyscoffee]

message in a bottle ౨ৎ theodore nott

pairing theodore nott x fem!slytherin!reader genre fluff | 1.8k words | friends/fwb to lovers warnings mentions of drinking alcohol, use of y/n song "message in a bottle" — red (taylor's version), taylor swift

YOU WOKE UP IN THEODORE NOTT'S BED, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains of his dorm room. His room was a comfortable mess, with books and clothes scattered around, and the faint scent of cologne lingering in the air.

You sat up stretching, feeling the warmth of the blanket cocooned around you, and glanced at Theodore, who was still half-asleep beside you.

"Y/n, come on, stay a bit longer," Theo mumbled, his voice husky with sleep as he reached out to pull you back into the warmth of the bed. His eyes, heavy with sleep, pleaded with you to stay.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "I can't, Theo. It's Sunday so I need to complete my Transfiguration paper."

He groaned, rubbing his eyes as he sat up, his messy hair adding to his disheveled charm. "You always leave early in the morning. Can't you take one day off and cuddle?"

Your heart fluttered at the thought of spending the day wrapped in Theo's arms, but you knew you couldn't afford to slack off. "I wish I could," you replied, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and standing up. "But if I don't finish this paper, McGonagall will have my head."

Theo smirked, watching you as you searched for your shoes amidst the clutter of his room. "You know, most people would kill for an excuse to stay in bed longer. Especially with me."

You rolled your eyes playfully, finally finding your shoes and slipping them on. "Nice try, Nott."

He sighed dramatically, leaning back against his pillows, the morning sunlight casting a golden glow on his features. "Fine. But you're going to Draco's dorm to hang out later, right?"

You smiled, grabbing your robe and heading towards the door. "Of course. I'll see you later, Theo. Try not to miss me too much."

He laughed, throwing a pillow in your direction as you left his room. The cool air of the dungeon corridors greeted you as you made your way back to your own dorm, a contented smile lingering on your lips.

Later that night, all of your friends decided to drink, but after running out of alcohol, you and Mattheo offered to go get some more. Thankfully, the Weasley twins owed you a favor, and they had some leftover liquor from the last Gryffindor party.

Although both of you were tipsy, making the entire journey humorous, you were sober enough to navigate the dark corridors.

"Matt, stop, you're going to wake up the entire floor!" you shushed Mattheo’s laughter as you walked up the stairs to the dorms.

“All right, all right,” Mattheo whispered back, his voice still carrying a hint of amusement. He was holding the crate full of bottles, which were making noises with every lousy step.

As you approached Draco’s dorm, you slowed your steps, Mattheo following suit. The low murmur of voices from inside caught your attention.

“What do you think they're talking about?” you whispered to Mattheo.

Mattheo's eyes gleamed mischievously. “Let's find out.”

You nodded, turning Draco's door knob quietly to open the door. When the door had a small crack, you both inched closer to the hole, trying to listen in without being noticed.

“So, when are you confessing to Y/n?” Blaise's voice rang out, breaking the quietude of the hallway.

“I’m tired of listening to how you're going to ask her out, then never have the guts to actually do it,” Blaise continued, his tone laced with amusement.

The mention of your name made you hold your breath and you felt Mattheo tense from beside you. In your best friend's head, you weren't supposed to find out this way.

“I agree with Blaise,” Lorenzo chimed in. “Just go on and ask her out already.”

Then came Pansy's voice, her tone teasing. “I can't believe you've fallen for your friends with benefits.”

Theodore Nott likes you?

"I heard Diggory is planning on asking her out this week. If you're serious about her, you should make a move before him."

Theodore sat in silence at Draco's comment, the gears in your head turning like clockwork.

You stole a glance at Mattheo, the new information soaking in. He smirked at your clueless face before he stood up straightening his back and had you do the same.

“We’re back with more bottles! Who’s ready to drink more?” Mattheo walked inside the dorm to set the crate down.

You felt yourself sobering up as you stood by the door, still taken back at the new information. Eventually, you stepped in, closing the door behind you, the open spot next to Theodore reserved for you.

When you sat in your old seat, Theodore’s arm snaked around your waist, placing his head on your shoulder. He placed his hand on your thigh, joining in the new topic that your friends were discussing.

The night continued as if nothing had changed, but the knowledge of Theodore's feelings weighed heavily on your mind.

You laughed along with your friends and enjoyed the drinks but you couldn't help calculate to all of Theodore’s touch, as it felt more meaningful.

The next day, you woke up with a knot of nerves in your stomach. You had Potions class with Mattheo, and you were determined to ask him for confirmation about Theodore. You’d had a crush on Theo for years, and the uncertainty was driving you crazy.

As you walked to the dungeons, you noticed the familiar hustle and bustle of students making their way to class. The cool air and the stone walls of Hogwarts offered little comfort as you navigated through the corridors, your thoughts consumed by the conversation from last night.

When you entered the classroom, you spotted Mattheo setting up your workstation. He glanced up and offered you a small smile, but you could tell that he sensed something was bothering you.

Professor Snape swept into the room, his presence commanding attention. "Today, you will be brewing Veritaserum," he announced, his voice cutting through the quiet chatter of the students.

After a brief reminder of when the potion was due, the classroom erupted into activity as students gathered ingredients and prepared their cauldrons.

You and Mattheo worked side by side, but your mind was elsewhere, the events from last night playing on a loop in your head.

About halfway through the class, as you waited for a potion to simmer, the room filled with the low hum of conversations. Seizing the opportunity, you turned to Mattheo, the anticipation of the previous night's revelations still weighing heavily on your mind.

"Matt," you began quietly, your voice barely above a whisper, the words feeling heavy on your tongue. You glanced around to make sure no one else was listening, the tension palpable in the air.

"What's up, Y/n?" Mattheo replied, his voice barely audible over the gentle bubbling of the cauldrons. He looked at you expectantly, his eyes filled with curiosity.

"Last night, when we overheard the conversation in Draco's dorm... about Theo," you said, the words tumbling out in a rush, the weight of the revelation pressing down on you.

Mattheo's face softened, a knowing look in his eyes as he nodded in understanding. "Yeah, it's true. Theo's fancied you for a while now. You weren’t supposed to find out that way, he’s been wanting to confess. He just hasn't had the guts to say anything."

You sighed in relief and frustration, the words hanging in the air like a heavy fog. "I really like him too, but I don't know what to do. I feel like I'm just waiting for him to make a move but it’ll take forever."

Mattheo smiled sympathetically, his expression filled with understanding. "Sometimes, you just have to be patient. Theo will come around. He's just... not good at expressing his feelings."

His words offered some comfort and you forced yourself to focus on the potion in front of you, but your mind was still consumed by thoughts of Theodore.

After classes finished, you were sitting by the Black Lake, enjoying the warm weather and the rare moment of peace. The sky was clear, and the gentle breeze made the day perfect for a relaxing break.

You noticed Cedric Diggory standing nearby, looking like he wanted to approach you. He caught your eye and walked over with a friendly smile.

"Hey, Y/n," he greeted, standing beside you. "I've been meaning to ask you something." You smiled back, though your mind instantly recalled Draco's words the other night

"What's up, Cedric?"

"Well," Cedric began, rubbing the back of his neck, "I was wondering if you'd like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?"

From a distance, Theodore saw you talking to Cedric. His heart sank as he saw Cedric leaning in, seemingly asking you something important.

He couldn't hear the conversation, but he could see the serious expressions on both of your faces. Panic surged through him as he rushed over, hoping it wasn’t too late.

Theodore left Pansy and Draco's side, their faces confused at his sudden departure. It was when they saw that you were with Cedric, that the two smirked with knowing looks.

As Theodore got closer, Cedric smiled at you one last time before walking away, leaving you alone. Theodore reached you just as Cedric was disappearing from view.

"Y/n," Theo said, slightly out of breath, "Can I talk to you for a second?" You looked up at him, your heart skipping a beat.

"Of course, Theo." He took a deep breath, gathering his courage. "I saw you talking to Cedric, and I don't know if I'm too late but I need to tell you something. I’ve fancied you for a long time, and I’ve been too scared to say anything. I know we're already seeing each other for other reasons, but I fell for you hard."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, causing Theo to look at you in confusion.

"What's so funny?" You shook your head, a smile playing on your lips.

"Theo, I overheard everything last night. I know that you like me. And just now, when Cedric asked me out, I told him I fancied someone else."

Theodore’s eyes widened in surprise. "You did? Who?" You took a step closer, your eyes meeting his with a warmth that made his heart race.

"It’s you, Theo. I’ve been waiting for you to finally ask me out." A look of relief and joy spread across Theodore’s face.

"Really? You like me?" You nodded, smiling up at him.

"Yes, really." He let out a breath he seemed to have been holding.

"So, how about we make this the start of something new? No more friends with benefits, but an actual relationship?" You squeezed his hands, feeling the warmth and sincerity in his words.

"I’d like that very much." As you both sat down by the lake, hand in hand, you realized that the waiting was over.

Your message has been received.

[morallyinept]

Home - A Joel Miller One Shot

Summary: Joel returns home to you.

Pairing: Post Outbreak Joel Miller x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader, except that reader has hair and is prone to freckling in the sun. These are very small details briefly mentioned.)

Word Count: 1.6k

Scoville Smut Rating: None, it's fluff. You're safe.

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Warnings/Triggers: Nothing too heavy. Some angst and longing.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: I've had some terrible writer's block recently and the new season 2 Joel reveal has inspired me this evening. Thanks, Joel! 🥰

MAIN MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

The swing hangs at one end of the rickety porch, a timeless piece that has seen many seasons and heard many secrets in your time here in the Jackson commune.

Crafted from sturdy oak, it’s varnished and smooth in places when you run your fingers over the armrests that curve gracefully at each end.

You remember his own fingers gliding over the wood as he sanded it, splintered and calloused, and yet strangely soft in the middle of his large palms when you’d rubbed cooling aloe salve into them after, whilst he'd planted a line of tantalising kisses on your shoulder and remarked on how freckled you’d gotten in the sun that afternoon.

You don't remember much else after that as his kisses had engulfed you wholly.

The thoughts cause splinters in your stomach lining and you squeeze your eyes shut, willing them not to creep into the jagged fissures of your hollowed bones. But it’s futile. The memories of him are everywhere you look.

Your gaze drifts to the haphazard wooden flower boxes, overflowing with vibrant blooms and herbs.

It was Joel who had planted them, his hands deftly tending to each delicate stem, leaf and petal as if they were his own children.

You can picture him kneeling beside the boxes, soil dusted over his denim clad thighs, his brow furrowed in concentration as he carefully watered each plant.

You think about the bed you climb into each night, noting the void in the space beside you where Joel's warmth and his presence once lingered. You can almost see the imprint of his broad body on the mattress, the indentation where he'd slept night after night with you curled into his body, leg resting over his hip.

You can still feel the heat from him as you'd wake in the night to find him practically draped over you.

The seat on the swing is wide and deep, designed for comfort and for sharing, for cuddling together on warm, balmy nights under the fraying, knitted blanket with wonky stitch lines.

You still hold it up to your nose, inhaling the last ebbs of his scent that haven’t been blown out the fibres fully by the breeze. But it’s fading fast and you’re worried that one day it’ll be gone forever, just like he is.

Strung along the railing and woven through the latticework, tiny lights glimmer around you like a thousand stars brought down to earth on glittery strings. Each delicate bulb emits a soft, warm glow, creating a cascade of golden light that flickers gently with the whispers of the night.

The cushions you’re sitting against, plump and inviting, have seen their share of tears. You’ve clung to them during sleepless nights, seeking the comfort they no longer fully provide. The smaller pillows, in warm tones of orange and gold, have been hugged so close to your chest as if they can somehow bridge the chasm of his absence.

The muted hues on the porch that echo the colours of the forest surrounding your home beyond the fences, mirror your fading hope, each day a little dimmer than the last.

You tell yourself that perhaps tonight will be the night, that he’ll emerge from the shadows like an ethereal spectre back to you, but you know, somewhere in your heart that’s been broken beyond full repair, that it’s wishful thinking. A dream with its shiny ribboned tether drifting so close, yet so far out of your reach.

You’ve often found yourself on the empty porch, night upon night, your heart heavy with the belief that he’ll return. Waiting... always waiting.

They've stopped coming now, stopped checking in on you. Stopped bringing baked goods, like they do when someone passes away. Leaving you to wilt and exist in your own bubble of enduring sadness and melancholy.

They said you should move on, like it's an easy thing to do. And a small part of you thinks that perhaps you should at least try. It's been too long.

You’d heard the rumours, whispers in the commune, of the men and women who never make it back, of the dangers that swallow them whole out there - even the strongest aren’t immune.

Joel, like many in the commune, had volunteered for supply runs, journeys that had become increasingly dangerous. The surrounding areas fraught with peril - raiders, infected, treacherous terrain, and unpredictable weather. Every time someone leaves for a run, there’s no guarantee they'll return.

You knew this. You knew the risk. So did Joel. The supply runs are a lifeline for the community, but they come with a heavy cost. Each departure is shadowed by uncertainty, each return a fleeting relief.

When Joel didn’t come back from his last run, the fear that had always lingered at the edge of your mind about him embarking on them, consumed you whole.

You knew the risks he faced, had heard the stories of those who never made it back from his own weary lips of close calls, and had seen the grief in the eyes of others in the commune who had lost their loved ones.

You were one of them now.

The days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and the silence grew louder. Every creak of the porch, every rustle of leaves heightened your anxiety, making your heart race with the hope that it might be him, only to be crushed by the realisation that it wasn’t.

It never was.

Your nights were spent waiting on the porch swing that Joel built for you both to spend balmy nights in the summer drinking tangy lemonade and being cuddled up in his strong arms.

And he isn’t here doing that with you anymore and you��re not sure if you’ll ever be able to move on, or accept it.

You try to hold onto the minute flicker of hope that remains, but it’s fading fast, leaving you with nothing but the hollow ache of loss and the fear of what the future might hold without him.

Each day without word, each night without his voice, has chipped away at your hope leaving you empty and lost.

Tonight is no different; and when you find yourself dozing into the late night on the swing in a routine you can't seem to break, the cool breeze stirring you awake, you resolve to go to bed and spend another night alone reaching out longingly to his side of the mattress, wondering where he is.

You stand to go inside, shaking off the blanket, and a flicker of movement catches your eye through the shadows and startles you.

You freeze, your breath catching in your throat when you hear your name called softly.

You visibly pinch yourself, the sharp pain registering that you’re not dreaming.

There he is, standing where he used to stand, the same but different. His silhouette is a familiar yet foreign sight, the longer hair and the weary lines on his face telling stories of the time and trials he’s endured out there.

Your heart pounds as a flood of emotions surge through you - disbelief, hope, anger, relief.

Your hands are trembling. Your heart is hammering so loudly now that you can't hear yourself think or even call out his name on a broken chord. Your legs barely support your weight, and for a moment you feel time stop completely, it's drag heavy agaisnt your skin.

Joel stands at the edge of the porch, the soft glow of the fairy lights casting a gentle light on his familiar face. His hair, longer and wilder than when he left, brushes against the top of his shoulders in swept back curls, seeming more grey and dishevelled.

The breeze seems to whisper through it as if sharing foreboding secrets from his time away. He looks different, weathered and sunken in his stature. And you're harshly reminded that it’s been over a year since he’d walked away from this home, from you.

"You're back," you whisper, your voice breaking as tears stream down your cheeks.

He steps tentatively up on the porch, a low groaning creak rumbles out from under his boot.

You resolve crumbles, and you rush to him, throwing your arms around his neck.

He holds you tightly, his own tears mingling with yours.

The pain of the past year, the nights you cried yourself to sleep, the days filled with endless worry, all dissolve in the warmth of his tight embrace, and your heartbeats meld together as one under the gloaming lights around you.

Your fingers grip into the rough material of his jacket, and you inhale deep. He smells earthy, like the fragrance of fresh rain on dry earth. It carries with it the essence of the forest, of pine needles and damp soil, mingling with the crispness of skeletal autumn leaves.

"I thought you were dead," you sob into his shoulder, the words releasing a year's worth of grief and longing.

"I know," he murmurs, his voice choked with guilt. "I never stopped tryin’ to get back to ya."

His words carry the warmth of the Southern sun, the gentle drawl of his accent wrapping around the ruggedness of his tincture giving it a raw, unfiltered quality. It’s a voice that speaks of home and belonging, of wide-open spaces and endless horizons. Of survival and repentance.

It’s a reminder that he’s real, that he’s here, standing before you, alive and well. And yet strangely frail; wounded deeply by the experience of the outside world.

And as you reach out to him, your fingers brushing against his roughened cheek peppered with his greying beard, you know in that moment that Joel is truly home.

“What happened to you, are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened out there?” You fire off clumsily, your voice shaky and breathless until Joel simply looks at you with those molten, sad brown eyes and you finally breathe.

"I'm okay, I ain’t hurt," he replies softly, his voice thick with emotion. His eyes never leave yours.

“I thought I'd lost you,” your voice is nothing more than a croaked whimper. “You’re really here?” You question dreamily, sinking back into his arms.

"M'here."

As you stand together on the porch, bathed in the gentle glow of the fairy lights, you finally feel a sense of peace wash over you.

And almost as if he can sense your bewilderment, your fear and frustration - your relief - Joel runs his hand through your hair, caressing your skull and cradles you closer into his chest. Alleviating your fears and confirming the unwavering truth presented to you, that he is in fact here. He’s home.

"M’home, darlin’."

Joel Miller has come back home to you.

Thank so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this little story. If you did, I'd really appreciate a re-blog so others can enjoy it too. Thankies! 🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST

[sinning-23]

Hot Tatted Uncle Pt.3 (Uncle!Sukuna x Teacher!Auntie!Reader)

Alright yall pt.3 also the FINALEEEE lmao I hope you guys enjoyed this lmao and uhhh thank you for the love n support!

This part is a bit longer than the other ones so I hope yall enjoy ll I got a lil crazy wit this. Just for reference this part is NSFW so uhh minors get tf gone lmao.

Warninga: Obviously nsfw, fingering, p in v, slight choking/biting? Very faint, mild overstim, bathroom sex lol, saliva as lube?, try to be quiet trope?

ENJOY!~

Part 2 here

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He's got his hands busy with the flesh of your thighs, kneading them as your mouths work against one another in unison. He groans the feeling of you seated against his clothed length enough to drive him crazy. Sukuna'd be lying if he said he didn't love how you'd whine at his slight upward thrust, your thighs clenching a bit.

The true task at hand here was to not wake Yuji who was sleeping rather soundly in his room. However, that was becoming increasingly difficult. Sukuna insists on lifting you up a bit just so he can roll his hips into yours, desperate enough to have you both basically dry-humping on the couch.

Your nightshirt keeps slipping down your shoulder so he takes it as a sign to press kisses there, your head lolling back and he skilfully captures the back of your head, his canines scraping against your pulse, his breath hot against the flesh there.

"W-Wait shouldn't we-" You begin, feeling a bit guilty about being intimate on someone else's furniture.

"Nuh-uh, you tryna find excuses now ain't you? Don't wanna mess up my brother's nice couch?" He grins, successfully forcing your eye contact.

"I just don't wanna be rude." You admit, whimpering again when he grinds up into you, vocalizing a groan in response himself.

"That's fine. I got a better idea." He admits, not only standing but easily hoisting you up long with him, his bulge pressed deliciously against your clothed cunt.

"What? Where?" You're clinging to him, your ankles wrapped around his waist as he keeps a firm grip on your backside.

You're traveling a bit down the hall now and he takes a swift turn to the bathroom you'd used earlier.

"I know it's not ideal, and if I had it my way I'd take you to my place right the fuck now." He explains, setting you against the countertop before hiking up your shirt.

"But I know you don't care." He huffs, lifting your boobs with each of his hands, squishing and teasing them, his mouth already latched to one as he covered the space in large, deep-colored bruises.

"I know you don't care that much about being rude as to keep from having his pussy fucked either." He growls, using his free hand to cup it, this thumb touching just over where your clit should be, only held back by your pajama pants and the sheer fabric of your panties.

"F-Fuck. Okay, okay, you're right." You whine, twitching when he applies more pressure.

"Atta girl." He grunts, pulling your pants down along with his, a hiss leaving his mouth when you trace your hand down his chest.

He takes your wrist, guiding it further, your body practically vibrating when he let's you touch it over the fabric of his boxers.

"Uh huh, you feel that?" He moans, Your manicured nails raking over his shaft, the feeling of it twitching in your hand making you gasp.

He cant help but give a quiet, 'fuck' as if rests in your hand.

" I-Its big. I don't know how I'm... Jesus." You whisper, swallowing in anticipation.

"Imma make sure you can handle it mamas, promise." He encourages, letting you dip below the waistband and actually feel it. He whines, bucking into your hands warmth at the feeling.

Fuck it's thick... You can feel a couple of the veins that run along the sides and soon you're able to pull it out of his boxers, truly getting a chance to admire it. God damn it, it's pretty too?! It was easily 7 inches, a nice curve upward with a slightly pink hue at the tip. And apparently, his hair color was natural cause the curtains matched the drapes.

"You gonna stop staring at it and- Oh fuck." He growls, his head lolling back when you start moving up and down, squeezing just enough at the tip to make him thrust into your touch.

"And what? C'mon Ryo, what happened to all that shit you were taking a second ago?" Your voice, newfound confidence, and pure unbridled lust flowed through each syllable.

"F-Fuck, here I thought you'd be shy about this." He huffs, looking down at how your hand held him so nicely, your lips parted, tongue out to let saliva drip down as you sloppily stroke his cock.

"Oh, you're nasty." He encourages, gripping the counter for dear life at this point.

The sounds is so wet, salive mixing with precum as you continue to keep up the pace, multitasking as your mouth works hickeys to his neck.

"See cause now I gotta-" Sukuna begins, his hand quick at your throat as he captures your lips, moving your hands to the side so he can access you.

His free hand works to pull your panties to the side and he easily slips two fingers past your folds, a slippery squelch sounding as a result.

"S-Shit-" You whine, the thickness of his middle and ring finger alone stretching you deliciously.

"What happened Miss Y/n? Huh?" He teases, curling his fingers upward, using the hand that was once around your neck to lift your face and force eye contact.

"Huh?" He asks again, his thumb moving circles around your clit as he continues to move his fingers in and out, the pace making you rock your hips in seek of more.

"I d-dont, I can't, fuck Ryo." You whimper, clutching his bicep as he gives that menacing grin again, pressing kisses to your jawline, occasionally sucking just to liter you with more hickeys.

"Yes, you can. Answer me, c'mon mamas I know you can. Or does it feel too good?" He asks, only getting a gasp in response when he proceeded to do the same thing you did moments prior. Warm saliva travels from his pierced tongue, down to your already sopping wet cunt.

"Hm? I'm making you feel good baby?" Oh he was definitely fucking with you now, knowing good as well at this rate you'd be cumming all over his fingers if he kept this shit up. All you could do was nod, resting your head against his tatted shoulder as he chuckles darkly.

"Gonna cum already? I can feel you squeezing." He notes, not stopping however. And sure enough you do, biting down on his shoulder to muffle the sound of your orgasm, stomach spasming as he slows down, smiling against your neck.

"Y-You suck." You huff, still coming down from your high, opening your legs a bit to look down at the mess you'd made on his fingers when he removed them. The sudden emptiness makes you suck in a breath.

"Oh yea?" He laugh, soon becoming hyperfocuses on how close he was to your entrance.

There's a silence for a moment like neither of you wants to be the one to ask for more in fear of coming off as greedy or desperate.

"Are you, done?" he asks, almost unsure, his hands gripping your hips now, dick twitching at the fact that he's so so close.

"No, you?" You laugh, scooting forward just enough that his tip is touching your slick folds.

"Fuck no...Can I?" He asks, and with a nod of your head, he pushes in, a hiss befalling both of you.

You pull in him further, your legs wrapping around his waist to do so. He swears, watching how you'd taken all of him with no issue.

"Shhhhit you feel good." He compliments, pausing when he hears you hiccup.

"Mhm."You respond quickly, adjusting to being so full all at once, tears pricking the corner of your eyes,

"Shit, let's just- just wait a second. Damn, what did you think was gonna happen?" He chuckles, kissing the tears away, massaging the back of your neck with his free hand.

When he said a second he meant that shit, because right after he trusted ever so slightly, slow, soft, calculated, letting your pussy memorize the curve and every vein. The pace was set, soon increasing bit by bit the more you moaned, feeding into his ego. If the sounds before weren't absolutely filthy, these were, every time he pulled out resounding in a wet-sounding "shhlick". You both swear.

"Feel good? I can fuck you a lil harder now?" He asks, both answers being yes.

And as soon as it is, he helps you reposition, the mirrors now in front of you instead of behind. Your nightshirt is half off, the rest of it now bunched up near your upper back as he massages the fat of your ass, squeezing with hiss before landing a firm smack that makes you yelp. He only laughs, massaging it before pulling all the way out.

"R-Ryo wait I'm gonna be too lou-"

Too late, he bottoms out, your mouth opening as you're too late to cover the moan he'd just ripped from your throat.

"Holy shit, nah you gotta keep making noise for me, lemme know how good I'm making you feel." He growls each time his pelvis meets your ass you moan.

All you can do is lean against the bathroom sink and take each unrelenting stroke. He’s got your hair in a fist, your neck craned upwards to look at yourself in the mirror. God you don’t remember looking this pretty when you’re being fucked. Then again it had been a while-

“Look at you,” He chuckles, throwing his head back when your squeeze him.

You manage to let your face all against your forewarn to try and muffle your koans. It proved to be useless and he slams back into you again, a raged, “Fuck!” Sounding from the male behind you.

“Close, fuck don’t stop Ryo.” You hum, rolling your hips against his and he follows your pace, although it doesn’t last long when his hips begin to stutter.

“S-Shit, do that again baby, doing so good for me.” He praises, waiting until you fall apart to pull out, only then spilling onto the curve of your back.

Your legs wobble, a feeling of euphoria befalls you as you seem to somewhat blackout, vision blurring. It's messy, you're practically dripping down your thighs and all he can do is watch in awe at how fucking gorgeous you look like this.

He’s massaging you now, a soft apology falling from his kiss bruised lips as he wipes his mess away, planting kisses against your shoulder. The sweetness is nice, but he quickly reminds you that he’s a fucking goofball when he smacks your ass with a laugh,

“You okay mamas? You can stand up?” He asks, helping you stand up a bit with that stupid glaring on his face, knowing that he definitely did his big one after you fail to keep yourself up.

——8:36am————-

You’d forced yourself to wake up a little earlier, Ryomens' grip on you not softening after you'd fallen asleep together on the couch. He insisted you wear his shirt after your nightshirt had been stretched out from the night’s escapades.

So here you were in an oversized beater and your night shorts (which he had to help you put back on cause you were so fucked out)

On the stove were some pancakes you managed to make before Yuji woke, his plate already set along with Sukuna’s.

The light pitter patter of feet alerts you that the culprit you’d just thought of is awake and he reached up as far as his little hand could grasp to tug on your shirt.

“Uncle Sukuna said to ask Auntie Y/n if I can have some pant cake.” Yuji repeats, your eyes snapping to Sukuna’s frame on the couch.

Of course his eyes were closed, a smirk playing over his stupid gorgeous face.

All you go is laugh, scooping up the boy to put him in his high chair.

“Of course you can have some pancakes sweetie.” You hum, pushing him in and feeding his pancakes with a bit of syrup.

“Make sure you tell your TeaTea thank you.” Sukuna grumbles, peaking at you with a smile.

Yuji only does at he’s told, giving you the biggest brightest smile as you process the fact that this man has Yuji calling you Auntie already. You’d be sure to ask about that later.

“Thank you Auntie Y/N” Yuji shouts.

————————————————————-

Authors Note: HEY YALLLLL I tried to end this like kinda cutely? Lmao thank you so much again for all the love and support on the last two parts I wasn’t thinking this would BLOW UP like how it did lmao!

As always my inbox is always open so! If you have any ideas you wanna se written or anything feel free to leave me a message!

Anyway I hope you all enjoyed!

Taglist: @manikosii @ya-boi-v @tergyri @ninacutebee16 @kriegsumire-blog @peachhiz @khaotic-luca @samisfunky @minaloq @teupaidecalcinhasblog @gurutoru @snail-squasher @molita111 @rowrowrowyourboat13 @acidrefiux @ryomensgirll @artistesimp @s-l-u-t @isaacdaknight @sterzin @fushipurro @bakuhoes-bxtch @itsinherited @call-memissbrightside @thedondiva45 @wr4inn @theobsidianempress @sad-darksoul @moonjellyfishie @sukioyakio @mageeko @spindyl @skunabby @rixo-19 @the-haitani-baton @eliyuu @urfav-cupidon @h0nz06 @lem-hhn

[jji-lee]

how about something like their s/o loving their mustache look and don't want them to shave?

sorry that this is so late, and that i made it kinda long!!! i added the other part you mentioned too! i spent hours looking at dreamies mustache pics, hope you enjoy! ☺

❥ mark’s facial hair grew back quite quickly, but mark was quicker, shaving off any stubble that made an appearance. but with the recent comeback, having to wake up early and rush to practice and coming home only to eat and sleep, simply wearing a mask outdoors would have to suffice. after a busy couple of weeks you had been dying to see your boyfriend, inviting him over to spend the night. when you finally heard the jingling of the keys you sprung out of bed to greet your boyfriend. as the door opened and you got a look at mark, a dark shadow cast over his lip and light stubble adorned his chin and jawline. you stepped back for a second to admire this new look. mark laughed awkwardly, covering his face, “dude stop staringgg, i didn’t have time to shave i wanted to see you so i just rushed over” you grabbed his hand pulling him towards the couch, “no no no, i’ve just never seen you like this, you look really good markie, you should grow it out more often” you reached up to touch his mustache, smiling at the new feeling. mark was blushing like crazy, maybe some stubble wasn't so bad after all.

❥ renjun almost never grew facial hair, it took months for even the tiniest amount of hair to pop up. so when you went in for a kiss and instead were greeted by an itchy upper lip, you knew you couldn't leave renjun alone about it. you grabbed his face, using your thumbs to run over the tiny stubble that had appeared on renjun's upper lip. "um, babe is this some new tiktok trend you saw, what's going on with you" he pulled your hands off him looking at you with concerned eyes. "junnie you have a mustache! a real actual mustache is growing right now!" he slapped his hand over his mouth, clearly embarrassed by this new revelation. "you're a liar let me go see" he rushed to the vanity gasping when he noticed small hairs beginning to grow. "where's the razor i need this gone right now!" you giggled at your boyfriend's reaction rushing to stop him from removing his hair, "wait no no, i never get to see you like this, leave it, just for today!" renjun let out a sigh knowing he couldn't say no to you, "fine, but i'll make you so sick of my mustache that you'll never want me hairy again" he pressed his upper lip to your cheek rubbing harshly, causing you to push him away "not so nice now, right baby"

❥ jeno was always handsome, but right now how you were seeing him, no makeup, wet hair, towel around his hips, and a slight stubble growing on his upper lip and chin, jeno was godly. "hello? earth to y/n? you're acting like you've never seen me naked" naked? that was the least of your concerns right now, jeno with facial hair was a rare sight only on a night like now, straight after practice and too tired to shave, could you see him like this. jeno gently sat on the bed next to you, reaching out to hold your chin, using it to make you face him, "hey sweet girl, are you ignoring me?" you blinked a couple times still processing the sight in front of you, now much closer, "sorry, sorry, i just, i don't get to see you like this often" you blushed looking away from him. jeno still confused by your reaction, "shirtless? baby we've been dating for years, did my muscles get bigger?" he chuckled at his own comment slightly flexing his biceps. you slapped his arm laughing at his silly movements, "no jen, your mustache, you look so handsome like this." now it was jeno's turn to blush, eyes growing wide at the realization that your focus was on his stubble. he reached up to cover his face, "sorry i need to get new batteries for my razor" you pulled his hands away from his face leaning towards him to plant a kiss on his chin stubble, "don't worry about it, you look really good like this puppy."

❥ haechan hated that his facial hair grew back so quickly. he'd shave at night and the next morning a shadow would be cast over his lip and on his chin, hair already growing back. but what he hated more was how you avoided him when he did have facial hair. what he didn't know is that you loved seeing haechan with facial hair. haechan had been busy, his razor laying cold and alone on the bathroom counter, his mustache and chin hair dark and prominent. as he joined you in bed, pulling you by your waist to face him, you tried you best to not ogle at your boyfriend's facial hair, looking anywhere but his face. he noticed you avoidant gaze, reaching up to force you to look at him, "do you really dislike my mustache that much, you can't even look at me baby?" heat began to rise to your face, finally fully looking at your beautiful boyfriend, "wha-what, of course not! i- i actually think i like it a little too much" your hand reached up hesitantly to brush against his chin hair. haechan was more than pleased with your response, leaning into your touch, "oh my baby, why didn't you just say so, had me nervous thinking you hated my hair," "no! i could never hate your facial hair, it's, it's actually a really good look on you" he smiled wide, an idea popping into his head, "well, i will definitely be throwing my razor away" he leaned his face closer to you rubbing his prickly chin against your neck, laughing when you tried pushing him away, "hyuck please, that tickles!"

❥ jaemin could not believe what he was seeing. he had been going through your phone trying to find an image of lucy, luke, and luna to send it to himself when he stumbled upon a photo of himself. actually, not a photo, a whole folder titled, 'nana no shave,' he had to give it to you, it was clever, but the countless pics of him with stubble was not just shocking, but concerning. jaemin had no idea that you had liked his stubble so much, let alone have a collection of pictures of it. he decided to put your love for his mustache to the test, letting it grow out for a week. he had been relaxing on the couch watching a drama you had recommended when from the corner of his eye he sees you quickly holding your phone up ready to take a picture, but he was quicker reaching across the couch to snatch your phone from you, "aha, i finally caught you, you were taking pics of my stubble weren't you!" he pointed his finger at you, you sat there shocked that you had been discovered, not knowing that jaemin had caught on to your hidden obsession, you weren't ashamed though, "yeah, and what if i was, what are you gonna do about it jaem?" his shoulders sagged his lips forming a pout, "huh, well i guess nothing" his shoulders perked up again, a smirk on his lips "but stop taking hidden pictures of me! next time just ask me princess, i'll give you all of my mustache pics"

❥ chenle loved to annoy you with his stubble. Every opportunity he got to rub his prickly cheek against yours he would take it. you would always push him away, pretending that you were annoyed by his actions, when in reality you loved to see chenle with his stubble. today was no different. chenle was on week two of no shaving, stubble having grown significantly. you were laying in bed scrolling through your phone when you felt the bed sink next to you, your very hyper boyfriend ready to interrupt you relaxation, "hi lele, is there anything i can help you with?" all you heard was, "nope" before your phone was snatched from your hands and your boyfriend was hovering over you grinning widely, "like my mustache baby?" he wiggled his eyebrows at you struggling to hold back his giggles. you reached up to rub your fingers against his stubble, gently pulling at the hair, "actually, yes i do like your little mustache, makes you look handsome," chenle froze for a second shocked by your sudden confession and then a frown formed on his face, "no fair, if you like it how am i supposed to annoy you now!" he leaned down to rub his cheeks against yours causing you to squirm under his hold. you giggled at him trying to push him away. He sat up, straddling you, "see you're enjoying this, i need a new plan now!"

❥ jisung would not be caught dead with stubble in front of you. the relationship was relatively fresh, he had confessed in june and by august you two were going steady. now it was the start of november and jisung still didn't feel ready to let you see his facial hair grow out, yes it was normal but what if you hated it? that's why when you came up to him asking him to participate in 'no hair november' proudly showing him your week build up of armpit hair, he was hesitant. but god you looked so pretty like this, bushy brows and prickly legs, so what could be the harm in growing some hair himself? it took 4 days for jisung's stubble to finally appear. when he looked in the mirror and saw the light shadow on his chin he was nervous to go and show you, but you beat him to it, his phone rang loudly, your contact name, 'my star💫' shining on him screen. when he picked up your smiling face appeared on the screen, "ji baby look at how much my hairs grown!" you pointed the camera at you legs showing off how the stubble has turned into soft leg hair. jisung smiled warmly at your happiness forgetting that his face was on screen, "oh my goodness sungie look at that stubble!" he quickly moved the camera, only showing his forehead on the screen, "ahh stop it, it's embarrassing" he heard you giggle, "you look so good sung, and it's for a good cause, show it off!" you saw the the camera slowly pan out, his full face coming into view, a shy smile on his face, you were definitely going to start hiding his razor from him.

[makkir0ll]

heyy! Can you write a prompt 48 for Kageyama? I don't know why but that prompt just looks like it' meant for him. Hope you're having a good day!

Ps: that daichi fic was so cute😭😭😭

thank you!! i'm glad you liked the daichi fic it's one of my favs. also i got extremely carried away with this bc i love this man, i hope you enjoy.

200 milestone event!

kageyama + 48 ("this is humiliating"/ "there's nothing humiliating about needing help every once in a while, my love")

kageyama had a routine.

every morning he woke up at exatly 5:45 on the dot, not a second later, or earlier. he would lay in bed for five minutes before getting up to brush his teeth for two minutes, then changing and going out the door for his morning run.

regardless of the weather, kageyama always had to have his run. whether it be pouring rain, snowing, or even the hottest day of the year. even when you stayed over at his house you would wake up to a note on the table with the words written "out for a run, be back soon. love you" scribbled in his messy handwriting that you've grown accustomed to reading.

this past week especially it had been pouring rain all morning, and you would've hoped that when your boyfriend went on his morning runs he would atleast put a rain jacket on.

that wasn't the case.

which is how you end up here, on the edge of his bed where your olympian boyfriend who can't remember to put on a rain jacket is buried under several throw blankets along with a hoodie. you can't see his face but you see some of his hair peeking out from under the covers. your hand reaches for it, gently stroking your fingers through his silky locks and he leans into your touch.

"come on tobio, sit up i need to check your temperature." you plead, thermometer in hand as you continue to play with his hair. with a groan, he sits up. you reach behind him to adjust the pillows so he can sit up comfortably. you look at him and his cheeks are flushed from hiding under his covers and his hair is a mess. he looks tired and your heart aches to see your boyfriend like this.

"i'm not sick." he lies, crossing his arms as a pout appears on his face. he hated this feeling, he hated when people looked down on him. he wasn't sick he was perfectly fine.

"sure tobio, you're literally shivering under five blankets" you state, you can feel his body tremble near you. "open your mouth" you say, your hand that held the thermometer going closer to his face. with furrowed brows he opens his mouth and lets you place the tip of the thermometer inside. he closes it tight to make sure to not let any cold air get in. your hand reaches for his under the cover, interlocking your fingers as your thumb rubs comforting strokes above his as you patiently wait for the thermometer to beep. the back of your other hand goes to his forehead and down to his throat to see how hot he was and he was burning up.

when you hear the thermometer beep you take it out of his mouth, inspecting the temperature and your eyes go wide. 39.1 celcius (102.38 fahrenheit). "holy shit" you say under your breath.

"how much is it?" he asks, trying to lean over and get a glimpse of the numbers on the device.

"39.1" you say, getting up to go to the kitchen and he reaches out for you, grabbing onto your t-shirt to hold you back. you chuckle at his actions, he seemed to be a bit clingier than normal.

"where are you going?" he asks, grip on your shirt getting tighter, not wanting to let you go. your hand goes over his, attempting to loosen his grip which you succeeded to do.

"i'm just going to the kitchen, i'm not going anywhere don't worry." you say softly walking out of the room to come back with a bowl of ice water, a clean washcloth, medicine, and an clementine.

you sit back down on the bed, putting the items you brought in on his bedside table. you take the washcloth and dip it in the cold water and wring out the excess before folding it into a rectangle and placing it on his forehead. his breath hitches at the feeling of the cold cloth but he sighs and relaxes at the cool sensation, sinking into his pillows.

"have you eaten anything?" you ask, reaching out for his hand again and you take notice of how his eyes are starting to close. he nods his head no, to which you reach over to the clementine you brought in and he whines at your actions.

"what's the matter?" you ask, trying to stiffle your laughs.

"'m not hungry." he says pouting.

"you need to eat something before i give you the medicine." you try to reason with him. he gives it a moment of thought before deciding that he needs to get better sooner rather than later.

you reach over to grab the clementine, peeling it gently to make sure you don't let any of the juices leak out and get all over your hands and his bed. your put the peel on the table, making a mental note to pick them up when you go back to the kitchen. you grabbed an clementine because you knew he wouldn't be that hungry but he had to eat something, you weren't going to give him medication on an empty stomach. also the citrus will make him feel less gross, the sweet juice making him feel better. you grab a piece of the fruit and bring it to his mouth. with his cheeks flushed red, shy due to your caring actions, he takes the fruit into his mouth. you continue these steps and once he finishes the fruit you take the washcloth from his forehead to resoak it and place it back. his body temperature was starting to cool down slightly.

you go back to the nightstand, opening up the medicine and reading the instructions before popping out a pill and handing it to him with a glass of water. he pops the pill in his mouth before swiftly taking a sip of water and handing it back to you.

you start to clean up the clementine peels when you hear your pouty boyfriend mumble something, you turn to him with a quirked brow. "you need anything tobio?" he shakes his head no, and you continue your actions before you hear him say,

"this is humilaiting." he says, a little bit louder and sinking in deeper into the covers, almost as an attempt to hide away from you. you know tobio, he likes to do things by himself, and he doesn't like the feeling of being weak, unable to do anything as simple as take care of himself when he's sick.

kageyama took pride in being the one to take care of you. to help you put on a new necklace because the clasp was hard to grip with your new nails. to clean the kitchen when you made him a nice home cooked meal after coming back home from an away game. to push your feet back under the covers before he left the house to go on his morning run, not without giving your forehead a kiss of course. to be the one to pay the rent in the apartment the two of you now share, to be able to take care of the bills. it filled his chest with pride. and not being able to take care of himself with such a simple task as remembering to put on a rain jacket, well he felt sort of shameful.

with a soft smile gracing you features, you lean over him and cup his cheek. you move the wet washcloth a little bit off his forehead to present some of his skin to you as you press a kiss to his now cool forehead, some water droplets sticking to your lips. his hands come to your hips and rub soft circles, sort of as a silent plea to not let go.

"there's nothing humiliating about needing help every once in a while, my love," you say, pressing another kiss this time to his cheek. the term of endearment turning his ears a bright shade of red as you adjusted the washcloth to cover his whole forehead again. "now, why don't you sleep okay? i'll be right back" you tell him, getting up to throw away the clementine peels.

as kageyama dozes off, he feels your body lay down next to his, tucking him in better into the layers of blankets on top of him. he realizes that maybe it's okay to be taken care of, especially when its you.

[danikamariewrites]

Soooo, I hope that this is alright to request. I can't really pick between a ship for this b/c I love them and how you write them so much. So, if you don't mind, could you write about the reactions of Feysand, Rowaelin, and Nessian + Azriel (...Nesriel?? IDK) to reader getting poisoned by an enemy (reader lives, but is left feeling very, very weak and ill)?? If you just want to do one or two that's fine... I was just curious to see how some of them might react :).

Cured By You headcanons

Feysand x reader, Rowaelin x reader, & Nezriel x reader

A/n: I would not be able to pick between them in general and I love these ships and so happy you do too anon

Warnings: poison, over bearing mates

Feysand

It happened while visiting the court of nightmares

You felt like an idiot, you always check your drinks or have Azriel’s shadows check

When you wake up 2 days later you were more embarrassed than anything. Especially passing out in the middle of the Court of Nightmares, like what a rookie move

Cassian and Azriel jump into action as Rhys scoops you to his chest. Feyre unleashes her claws, practically growling in Kier's direction. Rhys grabs her and winnows the three of you home to an awaiting Madja

thankfully you healed quickly. whoever poisned you clearly didn't get their dosage right

you still feel weak and get tired easily during the day for a few weeks

the first thing you see is Rhys and Feyre casually chatting. you watch them for a bit before reaching for Feyre's hand that's casually draped on the bed

they jump at your movement and are overjoyed that you're finally awake

if you thought they were doting and overly fussy about you when you have the sniffles, think again. these two are unbearable!

Rhys carries you everywhere. it was a struggle to convince them to let you out of bed so this was the compromise

the poison had weakend you to the point where lifting your arms was a chore. Feyre had decided to feed you even though most of the time you gave her an I'm-going-to-kill-you look

you considered yourself lucky though. to have mates that take care of you is a blessing

Rowaelin

Furious doesn’t even begin to describe how Rowan and Aelin felt

everything was fine, dinner was going great. this new alliance with a kingdom bordering Wendlyn seemed promising

until you polished off your wine. you turned pale and Rowan immediately scented that something was wrong with you

you passed out, collapsing from your chair. the dining room fell into chaos as soon as Fenrys sniffed your glass and announced you'd been poisoned

the guests were ushered out and taken to another room to be interrogated while Rowan rushes you to your shared bedroom, Yrene following and ready to draw the poison from your system

you woke up two days later with Fleetfoot watching over you, her golden head laying on your stomach. her big brown eyes staring at you. petting Fleetfoot behind the ears she shakes your hand off after having her fill. leaping off the bed the large golden beast sits by the door and begins to howl as loud as she possibly can

the queen and king coming running, almsot breaking down the door

Fleetfoot wags her tail at the sight of Aelin, running back over to sit next to the bed as your mates approach

the pair throw themselves down next to you, squishing you between them carefully. "We were so worried, oh gods." Aelin breathes out as Rowan repeatedly kisses your face

(like Feysand) the two of them don't let you lift a finger. Rowan never gets to do this for Aelin so he babies you to the max

from helping you walk and work out the muscels in your body to feeding and bathing you he does everything for you

Aelin spoild you with attention and treats. you two spend all her free time snuggled up in bed eating junk food

Nesriel

they each have a very different (yet extreme and justified) reaction

Azriel starts threatening people with Nesta, who lets her power rumble through the room, flames cupped in her hands

Cassian is getting you the hell out of there and to Madja

Cass doesn't let go of you for a single second while the healers pulls the poison from your body. he presses kisses to your temple and whispers sweet nothings as you writhe in pain from the poison being extracted

while you sleep for a week they hover over you, watching over you like hawkes

Azriel sleeps sitting up in a chair next to the bed while Nesta sleeps next to you, playing with your hair so you feel soothed in your unconcious state

when you wake up you're startled to find Cassian curled up at the end of the bed like a dog, Azriel in a chair, and Nesta next to you

Az's shadows go haywire next to his ears, alerting him to your conciousness. the shadows rush to alert Cass and Nes who perk up immediately

Nesta sits up, holding your face in her hands, "oh thank gods, you're ok." she coos on the verge of tears

even though you're weak you force your arm to move so you can hold her wrist. "I'm ok," you whisper

you all thought Cassian would be the more doting/crazy one but it turns out to be Nesta

she freaks out every time Az or Cass move you, worried about your comfort levels or if you're in pain. she yells at them if you even wince, "Careful! you're hurting her!" they always give her the same exasperated look as you giggle

when they find out who poisoned you Cassian tells you and stays with you. meanwhile Az lets Nesta tag along to the interrogation

he even let Nesta participate and she did not hold back. making this guy feel the worst pain he has ever endured

[petew21-blog]

Swap your face

I woke up to the sound of a masculine voice above me

"It's good to see you're awake, Mr. Robinson. I'm Dr. Brown. How are you feeling?"

I opened my eyes. Confused by the sudden abundance of bright light. Then I noticed a handsome man in a white doctor's coat.

"What happened?" I asked with a wheezy voice from the dry throat.

"You got into a car crash and have been in this hospital for a few days. All your vitals are stable. What do you remember?"

"I'm not sure to be honest. I remember walking through the school corridor with my friend Archie. Then he told me he would get me home. And then I remember waking up here. Nothing between that."

"Your friend got out of the car crash unharmed and has been visiting you every afternoon. Checking on you. He will be very glad to see you awake."

"Can you... water... please" my throat was hurting from all the sudden talking and now coughing and choking.

It seemed to surprise the doctor. He started nervously looking for something to drink and finally noticed a kettle with tea and a glass. I must have scared him pretty hard cause while he ran to give me the glass he spilled it all on himself. He murmured something and then got me a newly filled glass. He then took of his wet and stained coat.

"Sorry for that. Don't know what got into me. How is your throat? Feeling better?"

I calmed him by speaking up, but he still checked my throat and used his stethoscope. This was the closest to such a hot man touching me I have ever experienced. What a manly face. Such a beautiful beard.

"All looks good. Now, I am leaving for vacation tomorrow and my shift is about to end now. I'll hand over your care to some other doctor, but I promise you they'll take great care of you."

He then rushed out of the room. What I noticed after a while was his coat lying on the chair. Hmmm. Maybe I could try it on, just for fun.

I got out of bed. Took the coat and took it with me to the bathroom. I put it on while looking at myself in the mirror and imagined me looking like him. His wavy hair. Big manly nose. Scratchy beard.

And then. Something started happening. A tingling feeling, turned into a sudden pain and then warmth all over my body. I tried to understand what just happened. But in the blink of an eye my vision change from my reflection to something undistinguishable and then into Dr. Brown.

I stood there mesmerized. And the reflection of Dr. Brown was shocked just the same. My left hand waved and so did his. I opened my mouth and he did the same. I tried to say hello ending up with "Hel.." coming out as a manly sound of the voice of my doctor leaving just a few minutes ago.

Then I took in the dact that I shapeshifted into my doctor. "Holy shit. I'm a doctor now! No. I am a sexy doctor."

No tíme to spare. I turned on the water of the bath in my bathroom. As the water kept filling the bath, I took of the robe. Looked in the mirror again. Nothing changed. With a big smile on my face, I went into the bath. Forgetting that I was full clothed.

"This is so fucking gooood. I am a man. Not a teenager anymore. My new dick was so throbing hard. I held it over my boxers and kept touching and squeezing everything that got in the way of my hand. I just enjoyed the warmth of the water over my manly body.

"Are you ok doctor?" a nurse came in with a surprised look on her face

"What? Ah. Eh. Oh yeah. Everything is fine. I just had to... Do you need me for something right now?" I tried not to explain what I just did to not get myself and Dr. Brown in trouble. Too late I guess

"Ok... well, where the patient from this room is? And then I need you to hand over the paperwork to Dr. Manfeld before you leave for holiday. Also. Your pager, phone and wallet have been found in the intern locker room. "

"Yeah. The... uh... patient woke up and has a visit from his friend. I checked him and his vitals were fine so I told him to take a short walk. I'll give you everything needed you mentioned. And Thank you"

The nurse looked at me strangely and then left.

I got out of the bath. Dried myself a went straight to the locker room. Found clothes wuth the name tag Dr. Brown. Yeah, these clothes fit much nicer than before. I took the belongings and put them in my pants. I stood in front of the mirror a started making goofy faces at myself. "I'm the sexiest doctor with a big cock! I'm gonna cum so hard" I said to my reflection. What made this moment kinda unpleasant was the fact that I didn't notice a bunch pf interns changing behind me.

"Are you feeling ok Dr.?" asked me the hot, tall, shirtless one. Man I have to make them scared of me. I'm their boss after all.

"What are you looking at? Have you finished everything you were supposed to? Or is standing around here and watching me more beneficial?"

They just ran away in fear. Man this is fun. Maybe I could take some of the bigger guys clothes with me just to try if the power still works on other clothes. I put his shir from the locker in my bag and left.

While walking out of the hospital the phone rang. "Yeah, Da.... Brown speaking"

"Dr. You won't believe what happened. We found the patient and he was wandering around and claiming to be you. We got him sedated and in bed. Maybe there will be more neurological damage than you thought? Sorry for the assumption. I'll let the other doctor know. Enjoy your vacation"

"What. The. Fuck. So, not only I shifted into Dr. Brown. He shifted into me as well? So I can basically swap bodies by wearing a piece of clothing with someone? Man. That's brilliant"

I took off my shirt, enjyoing such the view of my chest and proceeded to walk through the alley heading to Archie. He's gonna be mind blown

1 hour later I was standing in Archie's room. Explaining everything. He didn't believe at first, but after saying some stuff only I knew, he believed. I let him touch my new chest, which helped a bit to calm him down.

"That's really cool, bro. So he has your body now in the hospital and you're here in his body. Wow. What do you think that caused it?"

"Don't know and don't really care as long as the power works."

"So you're gonna swap with other people now? How does it work then? Does Dr. Brown turn back into himself or does he change back and your own body will swap with the next person you swap with?"

"Well, how about we find out?"

I took off his shirt he was wearing, smiled and put it on.

A moment of waiting. Then the same feeling as before came and suddenly I was a bit shorter, paler and weaker. In front of me was sitting Dr. Brown with a huge smile on his face.

"Holy shit dude. We can swap bodies with anybody. But you just lost your dream body to me. Don't you want it back?"

"Nah. I wanna explore it from a different point of view now. Besides. I already got a body in mind I can get."

[nyoomiin]

roommates: epilogue.

your new roommate is... odd, and recently, so are your dreams. still, despite the secrecy, the mystery, and his ice cold exterior, you have the feeling you'd waltz right into love with him. (maybe you already have before.)

pairing. scaramouche x gn!reader

tags. no warnings, slice of life, fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, reincarnation au, post irminsul erasure

prev. masterlist.

You wake up in your bed, draped with Kunikuzushi's cape. You do not remember falling asleep. Stretching, you wince at the ache in your back and neck, the soreness in your thighs. Apparently, hiking up an entire cliff had not simply been one long dream.

A whole night has already come and gone, with the sun peeking out of the horizon and into a new day. Slinging the cape over a shoulder, you wonder if he is home. 

He is. 

He has even bought breakfast. It smells particularly delectable, all spread out across the dining table, and you realise he has gotten your usual order right. It makes you feel something rather warm inside.

 “You bought breakfast,” you say, grinning. You plop yourself onto a chair. “I'm touched.”

He picks his cape off your shoulder, clicking his tongue. “Don't be. It was your mora I used.”

“Same thing.” You swat his words away with a wave of your hand. “Come sit and eat with me. You bought too much.”

You both know he doesn't need to eat, nor does he like doing so. At your wide eyed look, he rolls his eyes, humouring you anyway.

There's something different about him today, you think, glancing him up and down. He meets your gaze, raising a fine brow in return. You wink back cheekily, and he turns his nose up at you haughtily.

Ah. 

He looks lighter. Less tense, less guarded. That usual air of wary indifference about him has dissipated somewhat, leaving behind a fragile sort of familiarity. Perhaps it has something to do with that night two days ago.

He had looked perfect that night, with moonlight glittering on his hair and stars reflected in his eyes. Though, you muse to yourself, Kunikuzushi has always looked the best in the sunlight.

It was true. Be it bathed in radiance and daylight, or shuttered with sunrays through the leaves, he has always, always looked like an angel. You suppose he might not see himself the same way, but you know in your heart it is true.

“Are you done staring?”

Your gaze snaps right back up to him. He scowls, arms folded, and when your eyes meet, he glances away. 

You shrug, a smile creeping up your face. “For now.”

Secretly, you think you may never get tired of staring at him.

“So like, what do you do now?” you ask, swallowing down a mouthful of food. “Helping the Dendro Archon can't be all that you do.”

Looking incredibly put off, he huffs. “Unfortunately, it seems being ordered around by that god is all I'm good for now. At this rate, I wouldn't be surprised if I got enrolled into the Akademiya to make up for the stupidity of those Vahumana scholars.”

“Don't be like that,” you chide. You know of how impossibly hard Akademiya scholars worked, your mind wandering to Kaveh for a brief moment. He doesn't deign to reply to that.

Honestly, it sounds as if the Dendro Archon was trying to rehabilitate Kunikuzushi into society or something. Forcing him to live with a roommate, having him run her errands, and now even attending the Akademiya? He must know it too. There is no way he does not.

Vahumana suits him, in an odd, roundabout way. Not to mention, he'd look great in the Akademiya's uniform. You cock your head to the side. “Why not? Becoming a scholar is great.”

“What use do I have for mortal schooling? If anything, I am more learned than all of those scholars combined.”

“Sure, you're brilliant,” you snark. He preens at the praise, sarcastic or not. Archons, he's ridiculous. “But you should consider it anyway. Maybe you'll like it.”

“I doubt so,” he tells you stubbornly. Then, he shrugs. “But since you begged so nicely, it seems I have no choice.”

Oh, how you want to hit him.

You glance up at him, glancing away just as quickly. Your plate squeaks as you drag your fork across it, and you wince, setting it down. Kunikuzushi lets out a breath through gritted teeth, scowling. “Spit it out already, you fool. Haven't you kept me waiting long enough?”

You look up at him, surprised. Something had been lingering at the back of your mind ever since you woke up, but you aren't quite sure how he'd react if you brought it up. It must show on your face. 

That thought shows on your face too. He scoffs, but this time, he looks a tad too pleased. “As if it would take a genius to read you. Now, out with it already.”

Wrinkling your nose, you glance away, humming. You suppose you'd never find out if you never asked. 

“Well, what happens now?” You gesture between the both of you, then at the world outside the door. You can't bear to meet his eyes, your words uncertain and low. “Between us? I really don't know how else to put it. Are we still friends? Are we not? Were we — were we even friends at all? I mean, it's been so long and so much has changed…”

Friends, you say, because even though there was a time you were almost lovers, that time had been too fleeting to count.

A thunderous silence settles.

One breath, then two.

“You think too highly of yourself,” he says loftily. “You're just as predictable and insufferable as you were centuries ago.”

Your head snaps up, and despite the nonchalance in his words, there's a certain sort of intensity in his gaze. 

“So, we are? Friends?”

He smirks, crossing his arms, leaning against his chair. He looks down at you slightly, all haughty, but it's as if a wall has crumbled away. “I suppose you've earned that right.”

You beam. He's ridiculous. On a whim, you stick out a hand.

Sunlight hits his face just right, and Archons, you can't help but feel he looks simply divine. He takes your hand at your insistence. It’s cool to the touch. He smiles a small, soft smile. It's warm. 

No secrets, and no lies. No past, but an infinite future. 

It's perfect. 

“Well then! Nice to meet you, Kunikuzushi. I'm so glad we can finally be friends.”

fin.

bonus scene, years later.

“‘We're just friends’,” you mimic him, reminiscent of a time long past.

He scowls, face turned away from you. Grumbling under his breath, he shoots you a dark look. “I despise you.”

“And here I thought you looove me?” you tease, placing a hand over your heart as if wounded. You sling an arm around his own before he decides to fly off and ditch you in the middle of the city, and he doesn't even stumble at the sudden move now. You're getting predictable. Hmph. You'd come up with something later. “Who's the one who was all like, and I quote, ‘Then and even now, you —’”

He slaps a hand over your mouth, flushing pink at the tips of his ears. He swears it was but ‘a moment of weakness’. He does that a lot.

You pry his hand off your face, interlocking your fingers. He doesn't push you away. Instead, he leans in a tad bit, till your shoulders brush and your steps start to sync.

Smirking slightly, you look down at him, as haughty as he always does. “Whatever you say, darling.”

taglist.

@franaby @dragontammerz @ainnofinway @sketcheeee @briluvspnk @bunniicantsleep @featuredtofu @tragedy-of-commons @parkjayssi @xiaosantenna @idontevenknow129 @bfajax @mostlymoth @thenyxsky @kiyiiaarchived @skyvella @theautisticduck @someonealreadyhadmynickname @wanderersumbrella @im-just-here-for-the-coffee

[annamcdonalds67]

𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐒︱𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗𝐓𝐖𝐎˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗

𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡ ˚

"BERNARD!" nic yelled, coming into matts room with chris behind him.

"wake up, you stupid fuck!" Nic said jumping on his bed shaking him awake.

"nic, leave me alone, im way too tired for this shit" matt said his voice muffled by the pillow over his head.

"I have to tell you something really important!" nic said.

"it can wait." matt said.

"no it can't. cause when you know, you're gonna freak out!" chris said, making his presence known.

"yes it can!" matt exclaimed before going back to sleep.

"Its about Isla." nic said.

"Ok, I'm up, what's going on?"

"She noticed us." chris said, jumping on the bed as well waiting.

"what?" Matt said, not believing him.

"she made a video about us." Nic said to which matt looked at him blankly expecting a "its a prank!" yell from either of them.

"Nic you did not just wake me up to play this prank on me, it's not funny."

"I'm serious, look!" Nic said handing matt his phone.

matt looked at the phone, Isla's voice booming through, his eyes wide as he focused on the voice coming out of her mouth. He stayed there in shock, the phone slipping out of his hand, his body in shock as he sat there freezed.

"Matt? Matty? You okay?" nic asked, waving his hands in front of matts face

"maybe we should give him a moment?" nic suggested and chris and nic walked out of matts

⚫⚪

⚪⚫

nicolas.sturniolo: congratulations ItsIslaCollins you have successfully broken matthew.sturniolo

User1: poor matt

User2: what does matt even see in her?

User3: we all knew this was gonna happen someday ➢christopher.sturniolo: unfortunately yes

matthew.sturniolo: I'm not okay

ItsIslaCollins: I'm sorry I didn't mean to! ➢matthew.sturniolo: NO ➢matthew.sturniolo: NO

➢matthew.Sturniolo: NO ➢matthew.Sturniolo: NO ➢matthew.Sturniolo: NO ➢matthew.Sturniolo: NO ➢matthew.Sturniolo: NO ➢matthew.Sturniolo: NO ➢matthew.Sturniolo: NO ➢matthew.Sturniolo: NO ➢matthew.Sturniolo: NO ➢matthew.Sturniolo: NO ➢matthew.Sturniolo: NO ➢matthew.Sturniolo: NO ➢matthew.Sturniolo: NO ➢matthew.Sturniolo: NO

➢matthew.Sturniolo: NO

Nicolas.Sturniolo: He's malfunctioning ➢ColeSprouse: put him in rice

ItsIslaCollins:

matt? You okay? Im sorry I didnt mean to break you

matthew.Sturniolo:

no no no no no

ItsIslaCollins:

I'll give you some time to calm down I'll be back

matthew.Sturniolo:

wait don't go lets start again hi I'm matthew

ItsIslaCollins:

Hi I'm Isla

matthew.Sturniolo:

I know

ItsIslaCollins:

I'm sorry for breaking you Do you want some rice?

matthew.Sturniolo:

no that's alright I think I'll be fine

ItsIslaCollins:

If you say so

matthew.Sturniolo:

i dont know if you can tell but im freaking out right now!

ItsIslaCollins:

why, I should be the one doing that!

matthew.Sturniolo:

Um i don't know probably because the most prettiest girl on this planet is talking to me

ItsIslaCollins:

please, you're only saying that because we're talking

matthew.Sturniolo

you dont believe me? just look at my previous posts wait dont NEVER MIND PLEASE DONT ISLAAAAA NO

seen

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⚪⚪⚪⚫⚪

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Liked by: pepsienthusiast, redbullisbetterthanrootbear, larray and 850,000 other

rootbearisbetter: look at her smile!!!

pepsienthusiast: bro stop being obsessed

redbullisbetterthanrootbear: shes mine ➢rootbearisbetter: i dont know about buddy boy

User1: shes an icon, shes a legend ➢rootbearisbetter: and she is the moment

User2: isnt she the model from the onlyfans? ➢User3: wrong person buddy

larray: she is stunninggggggg ➢rootbearisbetter: I KNOWWWW

@mattybstqrn @cindylcuwho @larnieboox88 @sturnrc @watercolorskyy @bepositiveforachange @whicked-hazlatwhore @patscorner @joemamaaa42069

If you aren't tagged above, it's probably because you may have set up your account to not be tagged by accounts that don't follow you back/you don't follow

[zukosdualdao]

and if you feel like night is falling, i wanna be the one you're calling

zutara month, day 12: kiss at midnight, @zutaramonth

summary: around midnight, katara realizes zuko has disappeared from his own post-coronation celebration and goes looking for him in the palace gardens.

other notes: yes it's another secret relationship fic god bless <3 it's still very New though, and this fic might be better titled Zutara Having The Relationship Talk. as it stands, the title are lyrics from someone to you by banners.

"What are you doing out here?" Katara asks as she finishes traversing the path to the palace gardens where Zuko stands. Between his thumb and the forefinger of his right hand, he is holding a pale pink petal. After months of seeing him in his casual dayrobes, finely made and threaded with traces of gold but looser, more casual, and worn over time due to their travels and battles, it's strange to see him in his Fire Lord regalia, especially with his hair pulled back into a top knot. She's gotten used to not just looking, but placing her hands against the soft, worn fabric of his shirts as they kiss in stolen moments, and to constantly pushing that wild hair out from his eyes before glancing around to see if anyone caught the too-intimate gesture.

It's not a bad look on him—nothing would be—but it is taking some getting used to.

"It's cold, you know." It is, surprisingly—colder than she thought it could in the heart of the Fire Nation, but then, it's nearing the end of the summer, and it's nearly midnight at that. It's strange for Zuko to be out here, too. "Are you alright?"

It's almost strange to look at him as it is strange to be wearing the clothes she's in, formal dress robes in the cut and style of the Fire Nation, yet in a grey-blue shade that reminds of her father's old whetstone.

Somewhere inside, her father and her brother and her friends are still laughing and eating and celebrating in the wake of Zuko's coronation. Soon, there will be much different trials to bear—Katara's dreamt bout the end of this war for as long as she could dream, but now more than ever, she knows that just because Ozai's been defeated, that doesn't mean the aftermath will be easy.

Katara wonders if that's what's on Zuko's mind.

She wonders a lot of things. Like how this... thing between them will work, now that the war's won. If it will at all.

"I just needed space for a minute," Zuko says, turning to her, lip half-quirked. "All of the... people, and everything, it was just a lot. Everything's fine."

"I can go," Katara offers, feeling sympathetic. She's not as introverted by nature as he seems to be, doesn't get as overwhelmed, but she definitely has moments when she just needs to be by herself. She doesn't want to leave, but she will if he asks it of her.

Zuko's smile grows, and he shakes his head. "That's not—I don't need space from you," he promises.

Brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, Katara laughs a little. "I don't count?"

"No," he says bluntly, looking her straight in the eyes as he does. "I always want you around."

Katara's breath catches. He has this charming, ridiculous, earnest way of saying things that always manages to catch her off-guard. And like a dam that breaks, Katara is taking one long stride after another to reach him. When she does, he drops his hand from where it had been holding the flower and places it on the small of her waist, gasping as she kisses him with urgency, rubbing small circles against the fabric of her dress with his thumb.

Katara pulls back, remembering he's still injured when he makes a small wounded noise—there are bandages underneath those fine robes he now wears—"Are you alright? Did I hurt you?" Her hands hover by his sides as she scans his body up and down.

"I'm fine," he insists, eyes sparkling. "Come back?"

Katara huffs but relents for a moment, placing another gentle kiss against his lips. The touch warms her up from the inside out.

"We really need to figure out what we're going to tell the others," Zuko says after a moment. "About us, I mean."

It's going to be an awkward conversation for more reasons than one: Toph will gloat and make constant jokes, Sokka will be happy only after he's been ridiculously overprotective (which Suki, probably her most reliable ally in this, will point out to him), she has no idea what her father will say, and Aang...

She knows he'll be hurt. That might be better as a private conversation.

Still, despite herself, Katara lights up a little. He's thinking about this long-term. "There's an 'us' to tell them about?"

Zuko exhales something that's almost a laugh and leans forward to gentle a hand against her cheek. She blinks up at him.

"There's an 'us' for me," he promises, his eyes shining with affection, "if there's an 'us' for you."

Katara has to kiss him again, then. It would go against the laws of nature not to, she's pretty sure.

They can figure out the rest of it later.

[auncyen]

what I meant to write: mIrabelle as the one looping having a crying breakdown in the equivalent of act 3 because I thought of it a few days ago and it's been stuck in my head (Panic! at the Dinner Table).

What actually got written: can you imagine how terrible it'd be for another looper to start suspecting Siffrin did something WELL

-

Siffrin has been suspicious for several days.

(Odile might say 'days' is inaccurate, but it's close enough, you think! You start in early afternoon on one day and then, when everything goes well, see Euphrasie in late afternoon of the next day, so it's around a day--sometimes over...many times under. Also, calling them days feels...better. Maybe it's a 'cycle' or 'loop' for everyone else caught up in this, with them always being reset to the same places, the same lines until you start changing things, but you are moving through time. You're Changing.)

(You're changing, aren't you?)

(For the better?)

--Siffrin has been suspicious for several of your days. They still act like their friendly self--they've even gifted you a flower sometimes! (You suppose other times you might have been too abrupt in waking them up. And sometimes you haven't woken them up at all, because you realize they'll come to the Clocktower anyway. They all will, it's where you're staying. You couldn't come up with anything more creative than a sleepover?) But...something's off.

You first realized something was strange about Siffrin--well, a lot of things are strange about Siffrin. You're more worried about his memory than ever now. Whenever you go into that secret room for the stash of tonics, Siffrin starts talking about a time he ran away from home, only to suddenly stop and look confused. You've tried encouraging him to continue by reminding him of everything he said up to that point (Isabeau applauded your thorough recitation with the most lightheartedness he could muster while still looking Siffrin over with his own concern), but it doesn't jog anything. You've tried guiding Siffrin to tell the story a different way with questions, but it seems like he loses the thread even faster that way. Lately you've just...cut him off from telling the story by laughing as soon as he brings it up and mentioning how mad his parents must have been when he returned. Siffrin still looks confused and lost for a terrible moment when you say that, but then he grins and agrees, and surely he's agreeing because that's what actually happened, isn't it? He said he was playing a prank. He played a silly prank for an hour or two, and then he went home, and probably he got a scolding for it but everything was fine.

...You still. Would like to avoid that room in the future. To not see that scared, lost look on Siffrin. Maybe you're strong enough now that you don't need the tonics?

But, but, you need to focus. Siffrin's memory problems are strange and worrying, and you really wished they'd said sooner how bad it is instead of letting you all tease them about it, but what's suspicious is their connection to the King.

You're not entirely sure what it is. When you go to the King, he always singles Siffrin out. "Bright One...do you remember?"

Obviously, with the already-mentioned memory problems, the answer is No. You've tried asking Siffrin if they know the King in any way, but of course he says no? Even if they knew each other once, Siffrin could have forgotten him the same way he can't remember what happened when he went out on the ocean in a boat to prank his parents? You imagined a tragically doomed romance between a villain and a hero with partial amnesia from an injury earned in one of their past scuffles (why is Siffrin's memory that bad???) for all of ten seconds before you realized that if Siffrin could forget the King, he'll surely forget boring, stagnant Mirabelle as soon as he leaves. After that you were too depressed to imagine anything between Siffrin and the King, which was probably for the better. Especially considering...

One time, the King singled out Siffrin in a different way. A terrible way. The first loop--the first day after you defeated the King and got to see Euphrasie for a glimpse of happiness before being sent back--you'd lost your temper a bit. You'd pushed everyone to go through the House faster than any time before, brought back to your senses at the end of the second floor by Odile dryly commenting on her tired feet while giving a pointed look at Bonnie, who was obviously getting worn out. You'd apologized over and over, and chewed your nails off at the second snack break to let them take all the time they needed to recover their energy, and went through the third floor without saying anything to rush Siffrin. You'd kept your temper in check until you saw the King again, and then you'd accused him of being a cheat, an unchanged loser who couldn't accept defeat, and he'd let your venting wash over him with a calm indifference ("I do not know what you speak of, Housemaiden") until you told him exactly what you were speaking of--the time that kept turning back, again and again, the days the loops the returns--

His face is mostly obscured by his long hair, but you could tell by the way his head turned that he'd directed his attention to Siffrin, and you knew it was with a glare by the cold fury in his voice. "What have you done, Bright One. The Universe's will is with me."

And then

the king struck

and Siffrin--

You don't speak to the King anymore. You don't let him talk either. You're pretty sure he told you everything you'd want to know from him. He can use Time Craft, but he isn't the one holding you in these endless days. He thinks Siffrin can use Time Craft, which sounds ridiculous, but since then you've talked with the Change God (you'd wanted reassurance you'd wanted a sign your statue was the only one unbroken in the whole House and you touched its face in reverence and the Change God spoke to you) and they'd told you three things:

you're their favorite!

they're put out by Dormont being stagnant and unchanging, but they're excited to see how exactly you change (maybe being their favorite isn't good. Your favorite characters go through some awful things, after all)

Siffrin isn't not responsible for this???

So it makes sense that Siffrin had a hand in this somehow! After a few more days which let you reach Euphrasie, you realized the time reset at the end only happens while Euphrasie is talking to Siffrin! That's suspicious! And, and, you've tried preventing it by keeping Euphrasie from talking to Siffrin, but she is so insistent she'd like to talk to them, and everyone starts looking at you strangely the more you protest, and you just...can't stop it.

You can't stop Siffrin from ruining things.

You hate that you're even suspicious of him, but he won't admit to using Time Craft when you ask, and surely even with his terrible memory, he'd remember that? He doesn't forget everything! But if he's lying, then...

Then you don't know what that means.

You don't know what to do.

--

...What Siffrin did: show Mirabelle how to wish and be an islander recognized by other islanders and not particularly liked by the Change God

[thatonesillywizard]

A very random thing, but i tried to write something for the @kuro-is-doodlin 's "Still alive" isat au! Just thoughts on what would happen next based on recent drawings, most likely not canon for the au

CW for malnourishment and spoilers for the game under the cut

(You're.. Not sure what happened to Sif.)

(Yesterday, they seemed just fine! He made a lot of puns and you laughed at them wholeheartedly and you all were gonna beat the king tomorrow! But...)

(He looks.. very ill, not to mention how he collapsed to the ground when they tried to approach Mira.. It was scary.)

(It still is, now, that they're laying on the bed with Bonnie beside them, crying.)

(He mentioned a diary. He said not to wake him to ask questions but..)

(The paper smells of iron. And the looping thing.. It doesn't explain much, like why he's so hungry, but it does explain why he was so light when you picked them up to carry them over to the Clocktower..)

(You should probably ask Bonnie to make him something to eat. Anything but snacks that they were gonna prepare for everyone, tomorrow..)

(But how can you and your party get through the house, if they look like they gonna pass out at any moment? It'd be wrong to leave them here at the Clocktower alone, too..)

(You have an idea, but you feel like he'd be against it. He never really liked touch, after all, and if you'll try to carry him inside the house, you wouldn't be able to fight against the sadnesses alongside Mira and Odile.. And you're not certain if you should teach Bonnie how to fight, since they're still a kid and the whole adventure as is is already extremely dangerous.)

(Maybe you should discuss this with Mira and Odile, first. While Sif rests, anyway..)

[houserautha]

These Destined Ends

Part Fifteen

Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: description of injuries/wounds, blood, reader and Feyd go through some shit, I take Dune lore/canon and reality into my own hands

A/N: well you don’t know me, but I know you/and I’ve got a message to give to you

Waves crash on the shore of Caladan.

The silhouette approaches you from the east, cowl billowing in the breeze off the sea. At first you think it must be your father but the figure is much too young, though bearing striking resemblance to Leto. He stops a few feet from you, dressed in a stillsuit. You search his face — handsome, angular, familiar to you in a way that you can't quite explain. Dark curls hang over blue-on-blue eyes that speak of plenty of time on Arrakis.

His mouth is moving, talking to you, but you can't understand anything he's saying. You try to get closer but every step you take he seems to take two backwards, just barely out of reach.

"Who are you?" You plead with him.

The boy regards you carefully. In a flash of movement he's upon you, and it's then that you can finally hear him, yelling —

"Wake up."

When you rouse, your fingers clench reflexively, sand slipping through them. But it is not the familiar sand of Caladan where you had been. No, this sand is coarse and fine and burns you where it comes in contact with your skin. Your mouth is dry, sand gritting between your teeth, mingling with the copper taste of blood. The discomfort becomes too much to bear and you do your best to draw yourself into a sitting position.

Instantly you feel faint, your mind swimming with pain and confusion. There's a deep rumbling beneath you. It takes only a moment for you to gather enough of your senses to determine its cause — you'd seen it before, felt it. Leto took you out on a thopter before and you rescued men from becoming sandworm food.

The horrible image of the worm's massive jaws closing in on the harvest machine flashes through your mind. Panic seizes you, followed by a flood of memories.

The dinner party. The thopter crash.

Feyd.

You scramble, feet trying to find purchase in the sand. Blood thoroughly wets the ground. It drips over your brow. A head injury, then, which explains the excess of blood and your muddled movements. Your body screams out in protest as you wheel in a circle, searching desperately for your husband. The last memory you had was him throwing himself over you as the thopter plummeted into the desert.

If you were still alive, it couldn't have been very long ago. The rumbling under your feet grows more intense, louder, and in the distance you can hear the shifting of sand over the high-pitched whine in your ears. You don't have much time.

A dozen yards from you, you spot the mangled body of the thopter. Was Feyd trapped beneath it? Falling and sliding, you clamor over to the crash site and begin sifting through the rubble. One side of the thopter is engulfed in flames and you're forced to stay away from it. "Feyd! Feyd!"

You've about given up hope when you notice a slender white hand poking out from the wrecked machine. Feyd lays beneath a fallen beam of metal, face even paler than usual and blood dribbling from his nose. "You're-You're alive," he breathes.

You open your mouth to reply but find your throat too dry to form words. Tears spring to your eyes. Desperately you push on the beam but the best you can do is shift it slightly, provoking a moan of pain from Feyd. His lids flutter.

"Go," he orders you weakly.

You vehemently shake your head. I'm not leaving you. Not again.

Blood spurts from your fingers as you claw at the metal, nails ripping from their beds. You're frenzied in your movements, the rumbling turning into a dull groaning sound. The crash invited the sandworm to your location, and you had to free Feyd before it came upon you both.

You scan your surroundings. Plucking a piece of warped metal from the wreckage, you slide it under the bar trapping Feyd and push with all of your might — like a fulcrum, one side of the bar lifts ever so slightly. Triumph surges through you but is quickly dashed. Feyd's torso is ripped from under one breast across his stomach and to the hip on the other side, a ghastly wound that's bubbling with ink-colored blood. There's no way he can move on his own.

You send a silent apology to Feyd as you're forced to lower the bar back down. The ringing in your ears has intensified but you can make out the word "Go" from his lips. Sweat coats your face, beneath your dress. You have to find someway to drag Feyd out of the wreckage while simultaneously lifting the bar that's fallen across him. Every second ticks by accompanied by the rattling of the incoming worm.

Using more strength than you should have, you heave a large portion of metal onto the end of your makeshift lever. It lifts again, but you know you have a limited amount of time before the weight of the beam sends it crashing back down.

You forgo any rationality as you grab Feyd's ankles and begin to drag him out, his face morphing into one of immense pain. His limp weight is even more difficult to pull than when he's conscious. Teeth gritting, muscles straining, you manage to yank him mostly free before the bar falls down — crunching on top of his arm.

Feyd howls out in pain.

Guilt fills you but you force it down, working to reset the lever so that you might finally free him. His black blood stains the sand as you slide your hands under his arms and begin to pull him back from the wreckage, summoning all of your strength in order to do so. There's no distance that seems far enough away from the crash, but you don't know how much further you can go.

The blood from the gash on your head drips onto Feyd's face. Exhaustion wears on you.

Then, without warning, the ground begins to give under you and Feyd slips from your grasp. You clamor to catch hold of him — snatching him by his maimed hand. A renewed burst of strength guides you into yanking him up and over the receding sand and several feet away. Shock paralyzes you as you watch the ginormous jaws of the worm open up and swallow the thopter whole, the entirety of the desert that you had only just seconds ago been occupying.

Ripples of aftershock course through the ground. You don't know if you can manage to pull Feyd any further. Does one worm inspire others to follow it?

The thought nags at you as your mind slips again into a state of unconsciousness, darkness enveloping your vision.

When you wake again, you find your body badly baked from the duel Arrakis suns. Every inch of your skin is red, inflamed, skin peeling in some places. Pain spirals through you.

You want to cry but the lack of water in your system has sufficiently dried you out. Your entire body, inside and out, feels like sandpaper.

Feyd lays next to you where you had dragged him, seemingly unconscious. Blood surrounds him. The sight of it seizes you with horror and you shakily lift a hand to test his pulse. It's faint, but it's there, as fragile as a hummingbird.

You know it's stupid to remove any clothing, but you can't think of any other option. The skin beneath your dress protests against the glare of the sun. How long had you been unconscious? How many days had passed? You lay out your tattered dress, adorn only in your sheer shift, and battle your rising nausea to roll Feyd onto it.

It's not easy to move him in your weakened state and it takes several attempts, but finally you deposit him beneath a sandy dune, offering a modicum of shade. It's a welcome reprieve from the suns, though the heat oppresses you from all sides. Thoroughly fatigued, you collapse onto the sand beside Feyd and nestle into his side.

His heart pounds softly beneath your ear.

Had it truly only been a short while ago that you were in the palace?

Trembling, you wipe sweat from your brow and press your fingers to Feyd's cracked, sunburnt lips and then your own.

At least, you think, if you die, you will die with him by your side.

It's impossible to discern reality from dreams. You vaguely remember fending off curious lizards and something resembling a small mouse. Giant birds sense you and Feyd's deteriorating health and circle, waiting to feast.

At one point a tanned, bearded face swims before your eyes, joined by several other similar looking faces. You think you remember them arguing and pointing fingers before finally lifting you onto a stretcher-type apparatus.

"Get...Feyd..." you mumble.

The third time you wake, your mind is much more clear. The blisters across your skin have settled somewhat and your throat no longer feels seared by the sun. You blink. Above your head is smooth rock, the air decidedly wet and damp. A foul odor pervades your nose.

"She's awake!" A feminine voices startles you, drawing your attention sideways. The room appears to be carved out of the rock, rounded and only a few feet in length. There's an opening in the cave that serves as a door, which promptly spits out a Fremen woman.

"Lady Y/N," she says, eyes bright. "Can you hear me?"

How did she know your name?

You test your voice, finding that it is usable, if not lilting and croaking. "Where is he? Where is Feyd-Rautha?"

The Fremen woman at your bedside frowns slightly. She takes your hand. "How do you feel?"

Your body stiffens and you jerk upright. Somewhere in the depths of your mind, saturated by years of etiquette lessons, you're aware that you must look deranged, wild. But you don't care. You grab the woman's shoulders.

"Where is Feyd? Where is he? Tell me he's alive."

The woman fends off your hands and pushes you back down onto the bed. "Lady Y/N, you must rest. You risk opening your stitches."

"Where is Feyd? Is he alive? I must see him this instance," you chatter, reeling with desperation. The woman is able to keep you seated in your weakened state, though you exert all of your strength into combating her.

"ENOUGH. LEAVE US."

The Voice pierces the space. The Fremen woman immediately releases you and disappears from your vision. A shadow drapes over you as a tall, slender figure swathed in chains and orange fabric arrives at your bedside. Now you really doubt your sanity — word-like runes are imprinted on her face, her skin pale despite the blue color of her eyes.

Eyes that you have seen before.

"Mother?" You weakly say. Perhaps this was just another dream, like the boy who greatly resembled your father. The heat had split open your skull like an egg and spilled out your mind like a runny yolk.

"Hello, Y/N." The woman removes her hood, revealing a cap of burnished hair. "I know you have a lot of questions. But you must lay down."

"You're alive? But —"

Jessica sits down beside you, a phantom, as regal and elegant as ever. "Yes. And so is Feyd-Rautha, thanks to you. He's very fragile."

"Can I see him?"

Her mouth quirks like she's torn between displeasure at this request and amusement. "We have him in a coma in order for his body to heal."

"We?"

"The Fremen," Jessica says with a wistful smile. "They found you and Stilgar recognized me in you. Otherwise they would've taken your water and disposed of Feyd-Rautha. It took quite a bit of convincing on my part for them to take him."

Your head pounds. "I-I don't understand. I thought Rabban killed everyone? How are you alive? Is Father alive?"

"No," Jessica says softly. There’s a trace of sadness beneath the surface of her cool demeanor. "I managed to escape. Bene Gesserits, as you know, as revered to the Fremen so my status was the only thing that kept me alive. As does yours as the mother of the Lisan al-Gaib."

A wave of numbness washes over you. "He...survived?"

"Ah, so you’re aware."

You close your eyes, throat bobbing. You don't know if you feel grateful or not. "Of course I am. I felt it there, that spark of life."

The one that Feyd placed in your womb. Even now, even as you had fought to ignore it before, you feel it nestled in your uterine lining, impossible to ignore. Your baby.

"It is a boy."

"I know," you tell her fiercely.

You might not be a Bene Gesserit but you already know the child better than you know yourself. Nausea rolls over you, though not from your tiny son. You had half of the hope that the crash would've snuffed out the life inside you. As much as your heart longs for him to thrive, you grieve over his burdened existence.

You can feel Jessica examining you closely, even though you keep your eyes shut as if doing so would block out the world. "It's still early," you say, though there's no doubt in your mind that your mother already knows.

"Yes."

"What happens next?"

In way of reply, Jessica presents you a small cup of water and a slate of what looks like dried meat. Spice dominates any other flavor but you gulp both down greedily, not realizing how hungry you actually were.

"Rest now," Jessica says, rising to her feet. Her hand goes to your abdomen. "You must heal for the sake of your son."

Disgust rears its head, ugly and twisted. You are just barely over a month pregnant and already your health is only for the sake of the baby, not yourself. Finally you have become the vessel that everyone has been waiting for. You blink back tears as your mother departs and, to your reluctance, slide back into a restless slumber.

Your healing is quick, most of it spent feigning sleep as several Fremen come to pray at your bedside. You practice walking on your blistered feet and gaining strength, all while coming to terms with your new life.

Jessica was alive and well. Your father was not. She had become something called a Sayyadina and held considerable sway over the Fremen. You did your best to acclimate to life in the sietch and the stares of the Fremen — both in reverence to you and in distrust.

All you cared about was seeing Feyd, however, but they refused you entrance to the room where they kept him. It outraged you when you discovered he was considered a prisoner, but Jessica addressed the matter calmly.

"He's a Harkonnen," she had reminded you, "their sworn enemy. You must speak to them to alleviate their fears."

And so you find yourself before the sietch, Fremen gathered below you. You waver slightly. They still gaze at you with obvious suspicion, despite whatever lies Jessica had been plying them with. They were right to be distrustful of you, though, a fact that you can not deny. The scar Rabban had inflicted upon them was not easy to be healed. Still, worry wears at the edges of your mind as Jessica indicates for you to start.

“I will not waste breath introducing myself to you,” you begin, “you know who I am and I understand your caution, your weariness of me and my husband. We were exiled by the Baron after an attempt on his life.”

A murmur rises at this, and even Jessica looks at you strangely. You hadn’t told her everything yet.

You forge ahead, “We may be Harkonnen in name but we seek vengeance against them, much as I suspect you do. Although we wear the face of your enemies I implore you to think of us as allies — we have the same wish to defeat the Harkonnens, the Emperor and his vindictive rule.” You pause to let your words sink in. Trying to gauge the reactions of the Fremen is almost impossible with their stoic nature, but you think that they might be more tolerant.

Jessica signals to you with her hands to keep going, a thorn of annoyance in your side. She coached you for the next part of your speech and you do not agree with it. But you are desperate to keep Feyd alive, and you, so you will spread the lies of the Bene Gesserits.

“I cannot express in words how grateful I am for your generosity and kindness in taking us in after the crash —” as you were trained by your mother, your hand flutters up to your lower abdomen, “—in my womb I carry the Messiah, the one destined to bring life back to Arrakis, and by keeping me safe you have also preserved the health of the Lisan al-Gaib.”

This time the mourners are much louder, almost protesting, and the crowd shifts. “It’s true? You are pregnant with the prophesied child?”

The man who comes forward looks familiar to you. You suspect he was one of the Fremen who found you in the desert. The way the others look to him makes you believe that he is some sort of representative, a leader. You regard him with as much conviction as you can muster.

“I am. The one the Bene Gesserits have promised to deliver Arrakis from its perpetual drought. My child, the child sired by Feyd-Rautha — as it was prophesied — will bring life back to Dune.”

Dune. The word carries an important weight to these people, the name for the planet from long ago. Jessica had told you to mention it, and clearly it had the effect that she wanted.

“The Holy Mother,” the man replies, tremulous. He drops to his knees. “Lisan al-Gaib!”

“Get up, Stilgar,” a feminine voice hisses. A woman parts from the crowd next, gazing at you with burning defiance. “How do we know this is true? That any of this is true?”

“You have good reason to doubt anything I say, Chani.”

Her expression twitches slightly but she does not reveal any other emotion. Jessica warned you that she might rebel against you — and now can use her predictable suspension against her.

“It means nothing that you know my name,” she challenges you. “We’re supposed to expect an unborn child to save us?”

You summon the same regality your mother imparts upon others, lifting your chin slightly. “I met your father, Kynes, and he spoke to me of his own plans to rebuild Arrakis. He was a great man. As you know, my father, too, was stolen from me by the Emperor and his puppet, the Baron.” You let your upper lip curl back in a sneer at this, then settle your features in determination. “Until my son grows to fulfill the prophecy, my husband and I will strive to join you in battle against our shared enemies.”

You had met Kynes, but he had not shared his plans with you, that was another imbedded lie told to you by Jessica. This, again, seemed to have the desired effect with the gathered crowd. The man, Stilgar, still gazes up at you with unabashed devotion and respect. Chani’s mouth screws up in anger but she does not grace you with a reply, choosing instead to slip back into the crowd.

Opening your mouth to continue, to sway the ones not entirely convinced by your facade, you promptly shut it at the interruption of a guttural yell that makes your stomach twist. Feyd.

The show was over. You all but jump from your elevated position, frantic. “That’s Feyd. Where is he? He’s in pain. Bring me to him.”

You’re ordering anyone you come in contact with, begging them to take you. He yells again and this time you take off, behest to your mother, who tries to chase after you. You follow the sounds of his yells as they turn from pain into fury, scrambling through the unfamiliar layout of the sietch. Sweat stands out on your brow from the concentrated effort of it all but finally you find him in a room similar to the one you had been in.

Several things stand out to you all at once, a dizzying kaleidoscope of information — Feyd stands in the center of the room, shirtless, a large bandage wrapped around his middle that’s blossoming with blood. He is more gaunt than you have ever seen him, cheekbones standing out in his face; his dark eyes possess an unholy anger.

That you recognize, and it relieves you slightly.

Feyd advances on one of the Fremen in the room. “Where is she? Where is my wife?”

The collateral damage of his tantrum is evident around the room: the bed knocked aside, what you assume to be medical equipment overturned. To their credit, the Fremen healers hold their own against him, regarding him brazenly.

“Feyd,” you breathe out, stepping into the room. It would not promote good relations between you and the Fremen if they attack one another.

His gaze dart to you and it’s as if a wire has been severed. His shoulders relax instantly, the anger leaving him as quickly as a candle being blown out by an invisible force. Feyd crosses the room in only a few strides before embracing you tightly, burying his face in your hair.

“I thought you dead,” he rasps.

Your heart clenches. “I wouldn’t leave you even in death,” you whisper fervently to him. “Nothing can keep me from you.”

Feyd withdraws slightly, searching your face as you might suddenly disappear, committing it all to memory. “Are you alright?” His fingers ghost over the wound on your forehead.

“I am,” you say. “Feyd, I have to tell you —”

“The prisoner, er,” the healer falters after a pointed glare from you, “the patient needs to lie back down. He was about to receive his dose of medicine when he woke from his coma. And his movement has reopened his wound.”

Feyd snarls at this. “I’m fine.”

“Listen to them,” you instruct him. The bandage around his middle has become saturated with blood. For his sake, you guide Feyd back to the bed. His gaze remains firmly on you as the Fremen work to change his bandage and disinfect the wound.

“Drink,” the Fremen say.

Your eyes widen slightly as he’s handed a vial of liquid. “What is that?”

“It is a small dosage of sandworm bile,” one of the healers says distractedly, “the Sayyadina said that it was necessary for him to survive. To balance out the poison in his system and to sustain his life.”

“The only thing worse than the taste are the…dreams it gives me,” Feyd says. His brows furrow. “That’s what woke me.”

“Dreams?” You sit down on the edge of the bed with him.

Feyd considers replying then but thinks better of it, glaring at the healers. “Leave me to be with my wife. You are done here.”

You want to reprimand him for treating the healers as such but they oblige anyway. He waits until they’re gone before he says, unbelievably fragile, “I dreamt of many things. Unspeakable things.”

“Like what?” You lace your fingers in his.

Pain spasms on his face. “I do not wish to impart them upon you.” All you have to do is read his expression to know that he’s imploring you not to press, so you don’t despite your concerns. “What did you wish to tell me, jewel?”

Panic flashes through you as quick and efficient as a knife between your ribs. It’s clear that Feyd still needs time to rest and recover, and if you tell him of the pregnancy then he would do exactly the opposite. You allow a small smile to grace your mouth instead, and ease him gently back down. “Just that I’m relieved you’re okay.”

Tags:

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[fadingplaidlibrary]

oh i am EATING THESE UP. PLATE AND TABLE TOO. do you have any harvey hcs surrounding farmer? like how he is with crushes

omg hiiii beloved anon, i'm so glad you're having fun!! just for you my darling, here are some harvey x farmer headcanons <3

a doctor in love

harvey has a reputation as a polite, levelheaded sort of guy. he's very professional, generally calm and collected, and known for his reassuring bedside manner

then he meets the new farmer

you know how they say doctors make the worst patients? no amount of medical training could make this man recognize the symptoms of a crush in himself

our precious, deeply oblivious doctor doesn't realize he has feelings for the farmer for a long time. not when he insists on personally delivering them a handwritten birthday card (with a reminder to schedule an annual checkup). not when he catches himself painting one of his model planes in the farmer's favorite colors. not when he wakes up from an unexpected nap at his desk after a very unusual dream...

every time he runs into the farmer he chokes on his words, and ends up defaulting to some variation of "remember to take care of yourself" no matter how many times he rehearses a normal conversation in his head or in the mirror

naturally, maru is the first to notice that he's scheduled a house call for the new farmer. in-home care is not entirely unheard of in his small local practice, but since when does harvey bring so many extra first aid kits with him on a house call? and wait -- is he wearing cologne?

the first time the farmer passes out in the mines and gets carried to the clinic, harvey struggles to swallow down the panic long enough to stabilize them and send them home. after that, he insists on giving the farmer an emergency pager to carry with them on their mining expeditions

harvey lives a simple life both by choice and by necessity, but he is absolutely a man of refined tastes. he enjoys a nice bottle of aged fruit wine, a perfectly brewed cup of coffee, or a drizzle of truffle oil garnishing his simple meals. it's not long before the farmer becomes his preferred source for all of the very best and freshest fine foods

our good doctor is very careful about maintaining appropriate boundaries with his patients. so when the farmer reassures him that they're still under the care of their primary physicians back in zuzu city (and therefore technically not his patient), harvey secretly breathes a sigh of relief -- and immediately blushes bright pink

harvey was always the shy type in his dating life, but once the farmer makes the first move, our sweet boy falls completely head over heels. i'm talking matching friendship bracelets, a picture of you tucked into his lab coat, boxes of junimo-patterned bandages snuck into your backpack, all of it

the locals couldn't have predicted that their polite, gentlemanly local doctor would become such a swooning hopeless romantic, but it's certainly one of the more amusing improvements the new farmer has made to their little town

maru does wish he'd stop writing "300mg of kissies" into the farmer's chart, though

[pushingboi]

The mid afternoon sunlight filters through the window of our bedroom. I keep my eyes shut as I awaken, drinking up every last second of our siesta while I can.

You wake up as I stir, and watch through sleepy half-lidded eyes as I roll over my gravid belly to lay on my back and stretch, taking a deep breath and sighing contentedly.

I kick the blankets down the bed and curiously peel my shirt back over my bump. Inside I feel the lively baby squirm and kick, roiling about as if getting more frustrated about their own inability to stretch out. You reach out and snuggle into me, placing a hand on my belly, and I meet you with a sweet kiss.

I smile and place my hands beside yours, immersing myself in feeling the life roiling inside my womb, nestled safe and warm within my belly.

The baby chills out and stills for a moment, and just then my womb tweaks obviously, startling you awake. "Oh shit, was that a contraction?" You ask.

"Noooo..? Maybe..?" I play puzzled. "Maybe it's just Braxton-hicks?"

I can't fool you and we both know it. You jump up worriedly. "How long have you been having them? Did they just start? How strong are they? That one felt pretty strong.. Are you going into labour? Or already in labour? Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Okay, calm down, calm down." I reassure. "If you want an answer you have to give me a chance to respond." I sigh.

"I've been having contractions for a few hours. They're getting stronger but I don't know how close I am. I'm still fine. They hurt, like, a lot. But not bad enough that I can't nap, right?"

"Shit; we've gotta get you to the hospital!"

"Fuck no. We talked about this already, love, and you don't get to decide to change your mind. No way in hell I'm going to a hospital. I don't need some stranger tying me up and prodding me while I'm trying to have your baby; you can do that just as well yourself, can't you?" I tease.

-

The evening sun shines in through the window of our bedroom. A cool breeze flows through the open screen and over my bare skin, the pleasant sensation a welcome distraction from the pain.

You rub my lower back tenderly as you watch over my labour. I've long since shed my shirt and pants, rejecting the hot and restricting fabric to let the rays of sun bathe my pale skin.

I arch my back as a contraction strikes. I lean into you breathlessly, and let out a very long groan as the ache tears through my body. Halfway though I pant to catch my breath, and then groan again. The contractions are getting longer, and harder, and faster, as they begin to fall into a rhythm, the percussive march that heralds forth the birth.

"Fuck.." I pant. "Fuck, it's so much. I can't.."

You run your fingers through my long hair as you soothe me gently. "You're doing fine. You're almost through this part, and soon you'll be pushing out my baby." I smile a little. You continue teasing. "Yeah? You like the sound of that, don't you? There's only one thing you love more than being this heavy and swollen with my babies; and that's getting to birth them out."

I tremble a little, for some motley reason of anticipation, pain, excitement and exhaustion. Just as the thought crosses my mind that I'm due for another contraction, it rolls in like a slow, long tide, enveloping my senses in the intensity of the pressure and- "Ah! Ah, oh god, oh fuck..! It's coming! Th-the baby's coming!"

I pinch my eyes shut and try not to howl with the brilliant pain. You move beside me and go to feel for my dilation. To your surprise, you meet the head already eagerly descending into my birth canal, waters intact.

"You're right, love, it's time for you to give birth. Are you ready to push?"

"Nnnnoo I'm not! It's- oh god, it's- nnn.. yes! Yes, yes, I'm puuuushinng..!"

"Good boy! Come on, the contraction's still coming. Push!"

It doesn't take much convincing. The urge overtakes me and I bear down, holding my breath and channeling the pressure downwards through my abdomen.

I break and take but a second to breathe before continuing. My face scrunches and my belly tenses, all hands on deck as I toil.

I gasp for air, winded from the effort. "Breathe, breathe, love. Take your time, your body knows what to do."

I lay back and stare at the ceiling, slowing my breathing, and rest, as the contraction has subsided, taking with it the excitement and urge to push. "I hope it's not to big.. I hope it's not stuck.."

"What? I thought you liked it that way. Makes it more interesting, doesn't it?" You wink.

I want so badly to be upset with you, I want so badly not to find that funny, but try as I might to deny it I feel the humour lift some weight from my body and something like a smile tease at the corner of my mouth.

"Is it crowning yet?" I ask.

"You can feel for yourself if you want. But no, not yet. You've still got a ways to go so conserve your strength."

I nod. I lay still for a few more moments and gather my strength. Just as the contraction begins I haul myself upwards into a kneeling position.

I take a few deep breaths and lean forward. "Get ready and push, love!" I steady myself. "Push!"

As I push I feel the difference with the change of position. Gravity starts to do its share, and while it doesn't do much for opening my pelvis, I can feel the movement nonetheless.

I feel the rhythm, finally, as it starts to set in. I rock back and forth and breathe and push, losing myself in the cycle - breathe, rock, push. Breathe, rock, push. Breathe, rock, push. Breathe, rock, push.

The head inches downwards, boring its way through my flesh. As it comes closer and closer to the sensitive opening it feels different, more. It really feels like the erupting force threatens to split me open. I barely notice that as I've pushed I've leaned forward slowly until it's easier to make myself comfortable on all fours.

It's here, watching me strain and sweat, that you realize just how helpless you are. You shuffle around me to get a better look.

I grasp at the sheets, the bed, at my belly, at you, desperate and writhing beneath the intensity. I pant and pant and puuuush, puuuush, PUUSH!

My pussy begins to part as the head encroaches upon it. The intact sac glistens as it appears between my legs. Face into the bed my moans are muffled. You rub my back and comfort me in vain; it's all up to me now to give birth to your baby.

With the next contraction my body tenses. My legs tremble, my breath wavers and I sob through the pain. The sobs curl into a determined wail as i bear down, pressure rippling through my belly and hips. The head continues to squeeze through, stretching into sight bit by bit.

"Here it comes, love. I can see it. Don't stop pushing."

I obey, choking my breath through another contraction. I heave, and push, the head moving so slowly towards the world, gripped firmly within my birth canal.

The contraction lulls, and so does my urge to push, and I'm left with nothing but the awareness of the huge baby's position in my pelvis, filling the space between my hips like nothing I've ever felt. I rock my hips side to side, forward and back, savouring the sweet stretch and the bitter pain threatening to tear down my consciousness.

You look on with pride and.. oh such lust. You can't deny how much it turns you on to see me like this, bent over and stretched open before you, labouring and toiling while I give birth to your baby. The waistband of your pants is all there is between you and ecstasy but you resist thre urge to touch yourself.

The rhythm returns and I whine as I lean into the contraction.

"C'mon baby, push it out for me. Push it out!"

"NNnnnggghh.. I'm... pushing... as hard as I can.."

The head begins to crown, my bulging slit parting around it. As I release the pressure and catch my breath it retreats back inside. "Hah.. hah.. ha.. aaa-hhhhhnnnnnnnnngh...!"

I bear down with all my strength, working through the stinging crown. The supple skin of my cunt grows thin and tight as it clings to the slowly protruding head of our baby.

"It's co-ming! Oh fuck, it's coming out!" I cry.

You've got a pretty sweet view while I push for you. My ass in the air, bearing down while your new baby squeezes into view between my legs.

I sink down into the bed and scream into the pillow, the unquenchable burning of the crown battling the insurgent urge to push. My poor tight, engorged little pussy bulges all around the head.

"It's stretching me open… Oh my god, the head.."

I breathe and pant in desperation, the intensity refusing to quell. All I can think and feel is the baby trying to stretch through my abused opening. "It's burning. It's burning. It's so hard.. I can't.. I have to.. I.."

"You're doing so good babe. Feel my baby stretch open the hole I fucked it into. Breathe and let it open you up."

"I have to push so bad. I have to push this baby out.." I start bearing down again one push at a time. "Fuck, it's so hard! I'm trying so hard to give birth but it won't- GAAAAH!" Suddenly the sac breaks inside me, and a little gush of amniotic fluid trickles forth, but the big head stops the rest of the flow like a stuck cork. "AGHHHHHHHHHHH!" The new change in pressure shifts the baby and my vagina finally starts to span around the bulge. "That's it, babe! Push, pushhh, puuuuush!"

"Nnnngghhh... p.. puuuuuuuush...." I groan. I lean my hips back and shift my knees, opening up for the baby to come out. "puuuuuuuuush...!"

"puush... puuuuush...." I keep narrating myself. The head starts to crown fully, stretching all the way. "I'm giving birth to it.. the head is almost out of me.."

"One big push! Cmon, birth it!"

I hold my breath and force everything into one big push. "Ghhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaa-aaaah-AHHHHHHH! Ahhh ohhhhh, the head..! ahhhh..... ahhhhh..."

All at once the head shears out between my legs, accompanied by a cascade of fluid which gushes onto the bed below me, carrying the head to dangle out of my birth canal.

"Oh my god, it's coming! My baby is- nnnnhh puuuuuuuushh... puuuush..." The urgency is still there, it's not out yet as I feel the whole body stretch my vagina. "I'm fucking pushing..."

The body slides through ever so slowly, from the shoulders all the way to the hips, in one long push, and then suddenly, finally, the legs slip all the way out from inside me and the gurgling baby falls onto the bed between my legs.

"There's my baby, you did it babe! You did such a good job giving birth to it!"

[lianaloverr]

She

stalker!Sam Golbach x fem!reader

summary: You finally got the man of your dreams...

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Warnings:Just a tiny bit of smut so MDNI

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Word count: 1k

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“one, two, your the girl that i want..”

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“It’s always the same.”

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you come home from work exhausted, looking forward to taking a really long shower and sleeping all day until you go to work.

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You just moved to a new town, and everything is weird, even your dad. He's upset because of your going out partying and having boys over. But it's normal it's not like he caught you all doing anything wrong... At least, not anything he knows of.

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This guy caught your attention he is with a small group of three including him, probably friends.But you're already scheming to get into their pants.

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One of the guys is already talking to you, being all friendly with you, even though you can tell he's just looking for a one-night stand. That's fine by you though, because your attention is already on someone else and that is..

Sam Golbach

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“C’mere, baby don’t hide” the guy keeps saying, moving your hands from your face, but all you can manage to say are ugly moans and sobs. How you wish it were Sam instead making you have orgasm. You later discover the name if the guy who has you in a weird position and is all up on your guts is Colby he and Sam are best friends. How disappointing they must have some sort of bro code.

“It’s too muchhh I can’tt” you keep repeating, urging him to finish faster, but he won’t budge.He keep thrusting even harder and its making you exhausted.

Thats how your days go when you spend time with Colby.

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On this spectacular night, you and Colby are so close, the heat between you is so bad that you guys are a sweating mess. As you straddle him, he kisses down your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Suddenly, he flips you over and reaches for something. A gun. Confusion sets in as he stands, grabbing his phone.

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“Why did you do that?” you ask, puzzled.

“Someone was at the window… didn’t you see?” he snaps back, his tone unexpectedly harsh.

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“There’s no one there, come back to bed,” you say, irritation creeping in. Why won’t he just relax? There’s clearly no one outside. You ponder this as he dials 911.

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“Fine, I’ll check the window since you’re so anxious,” you roll your eyes, rising to inspect you look out.Your eyes widen. “M-my dad is outside!” you whisper scream in shock.

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He stares at you, equally surprised. “What?!” he exclaims, as you hurriedly push him into the closet. “Quick, hide… and don’t make a sound,” you instruct urgently.

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As you hear your dad come in, you decide to be the responsible daughter that you are and greet him in the living room. He looks stressed, so you try to lighten the mood. “Rough day, huh? How was work?” you ask, hoping to cheer him up.

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“Leave me alone, y/n. Go to sleep; you have a long day tomorrow,” he grumbles, clearly not in the mood for conversation.

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Rolling your eyes dramatically, you mutter under your breath, “Well, excuse me for trying to be a supportive daughter.” You storm to your room, feeling unappreciated.

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You walk back to your room and collapse onto your bed, immediately drifting off into a deep sleep. At some point in the night, you’re jolted awake by the sensation of something touching you. Groggy and half-asleep, you shift slightly, but in your drowsy state, you dismiss it as a dream and quickly drift back into slumber.

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The next morning, you wake up feeling oddly unsettled, unable to shake the feeling that something was off during the night. You replay the events in your mind, trying to make sense of the sensation you felt. Could it have been a dream, or was there something or someone in your room?

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As you wake up, the eerie feeling from the night before lingers. You notice that some of your panties are missing, and your blood runs cold when you see the message scrawled on your mirror "MEET AT LAKE." Fear grips you, and you shudder at the thought of someone invading your space.

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The idea of going to the lake is out of the question; it feels like walking into a trap, a scene from a horror movie where the victim meets their demise. You try to shake off the fear, but the sense of being watched follows you like a shadow. The violation of your privacy leaves you unsettled, unsure of who could be behind such a sinister act.

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You finally get the chance to talk to sam you guys make plans on going to a cafe. As the two of you sit in the cafe, the conversation takes a serious turn. “Sam,” you begin, hesitating slightly, “I need to tell you something. I’ve been feeling really scared lately.” Sam looks at you, concern flickering in his eyes. “What’s going on?” he asks gently.

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You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I feel like someone’s been following me, watching me. It’s like I’m never alone, even when I should be.” You glance around nervously, as if expecting someone to be listening in.

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Sam reaches out and places a reassuring hand on yours. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this,” he says sincerely. “Have you talked to anyone else about this?”

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You shake your head. “No, you’re the first person I’ve told. I just… I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’m being paranoid, but at the same time, I can’t shake this feeling.”

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Sam listens attentively, his expression thoughtful. “It’s not paranoia if you’re genuinely feeling scared,” he says softly. “I’m here for you, okay? We’ll figure this out together.” His words offer you a sense of comfort and relief, knowing that you have someone by your side who understands and cares but you can’t help to wonder if..

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If he’s the stalker.

Heyy guysss! I hope you liked part 1 of “She”. Let me know if you want part 2!

Thanks to @gloryaiis for this writing!

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