#vessel x sleep sort of

[soul-has-left-the-chat]

vess headcanon cause y not

cut off for sensitive topics

Vessel is actively dying. The only reason he's currently breathing, walking and smiling is all because of Sleep. He's heavily dependent on Her, so much that his life, quite literally, depends on Her. Prior to becoming a vessel of Her legion, he perished in a fit of deep despair and was contacted by Sleep through his subconscious, hence how he was "revived" and taken over by Her influence. He lies he met Her through his dreams but it's actually through the serenity of death. He can't defy her, and he can't die anymore to escape Her control even if he wanted to. He's, essentially, a walking corpse. She's his trust fund for, literally, life. One move wrong and he loses everything. Including his ability to walk the overworld. He's immortal, yes, but not forever. Sleep is keeping him "alive". She is the only thing keeping him that way.

im evil ik teehee :3

Also the only reason he's staying alive and breathing is for his friends and the other vessels. They are too much value to him. He doesn't want to see them sad from his permanent absence.

[marrowlyavoideddisaster]

Chapter 12 posted!

Chapter Summary and Work Summary below the cut!

Chapter Summary

In this chapter a bunch of the weird details that happen when dozens of people who are all trapped in one body try to design one normal apartment to live in are discovered by Spamton, who doesn't know what you, the reader character is (eldritch hivemind). All the furniture looks brand new, the kitchen is almost empty of food. All the sketch books and art supplies are untouched. The stylistic choices being made seem to flip and change every two feet. Those kitchen counters are weirdly tall.

Work Summary

A typical bringing Spamton home and taking care of him, but with a twist! In a dizzyingly bad mockery of a group project, a non-specific number of fans have been dropped into one body with many powers yet the teamwork skills of a twitch chat attempting to backseat game a dnd session. And the anxiety levels of a chihuahua that's been accidentally stepped on a few too many times. How will you and the others fare in charming Spamton into moving into the flat you made just for him? How familiar does a stranger really act? Will you ever fully agree on anything else?

[peachesofteal]

Cool Girl

Ghoap x female reader / 18+ / masterlist / warning: cancer

“Wait… I’m sorry, I… I think I misheard you…”

The doctor gives you a very kind, but very practiced smile and pats your hand gently. “It’s a brain tumor.”

Oh god. Oh my god. You’re going to throw up. White hot fear rockets up your spine, spreading through every nerve, vessel, piece of tissue like a crack of lightning, obliterating everything in its path.

A tumor. A brain tumor.

“Okay… uh,” you don’t know where to begin. What kind of questions do you ask? What happens next? “Do I… get surgery or something? What… what do I do?” She nods, pointing to something on the tablet screen, scans of your brain lit up like a fucking Christmas tree.

She’s explaining something to you, something you don’t really understand, but you vaguely catch the end of it. “-to try to shrink it. The chemo will hopefully do that for us, and we can move to next steps.” Chemo. Chemo?

“Oh.”

“I know this is a lot to take in, but we’re going to do everything we can.” Everything we can?

She sends you home with a stack of papers, pamphlets, and more appointments than you could possibly remember.

Your empty apartment suddenly feels more sad, more morose than it ever has before, and for the hundredth time today, you think of Simon and Johnny.

Pathetically, you want to call them.

Maybe Simon would let Johnny come over. Maybe he’d let Johnny hold you.

Maybe Simon would even want to hold you too. You snort. Unlikely.

Instead of someone to lay with, be with, you slip fitfully into a restless sleep, buried in a pile of pillows.

Your days turn into Russian roulette.

You meet your oncologist, you start chemo. You take medical leave from work, considering you can’t do anything except go back and forth between appointments, and try not to think about the monster that’s living in your head, sucking you dry. Mornings roll into nights, and you become some sort of zombie, dragging your feet around the building, unable to eat, unable to sleep.

You can sometimes stomach soup though. Soup of all kinds, chicken noodle, ramen, tomato, you name it. It takes two weeks for you to get through your mostly broth diet before you’re forced out into the world to buy some more.

The grocery store is a nightmare. The lights are too bright, the people are too loud, and it’s freezing, even though most people are in shorts and short sleeves.

You’re bundled up. It’s a little ridiculous.

You take your time in the soup aisle with your basket, glancing over your options, trying to push down your nausea and figure out what you might feel like eating later. It’s a daunting task, considering what you threw up before you left the flat.

You fill your basket with as much as you think you might need, ignoring the throbbing in your head as much as possible, and round the corner to the frozen section, looking for some ice cream. Something sweet doesn’t sound so bad, you think. Maybe some mint chocolate, or cookies and cream.

You stand in front of the frosted doors, debating your options, oblivious to the world.

Oblivious until you hear someone calling your name.

When you turn your head, there’s a flash of a mohawk from the corner of your eye, and then Johnny is standing in front of you with his jaw dropped.

“Oh. Hi.”

“Hi?” He bleats. “Hi? Bonnie, ye… ye look-“

“Like shit?” You finish for him, unimpressed, and he shakes his head.

“No. Sick. Are ye alright?” Truly, you want to lie. Throw yourself at his feet and beg him to come home with you, cuddle you, help you.

You can’t though. You know you can’t.

Johnny’s heart doesn’t belong to you. Neither does Simon’s.

“Oh, yeah I’m fine. Just tired.” His eyes narrow, your own heart bleeds. “Swear.” He shakes his head.

“Ye’re lying.” You’re about to tell him to mind his business, to tell him you’re not his business anymore, when his eyes go incredibly soft, and he steps closer. “If this is about what happened-“

“I don’t… I can’t do this.” You move away, backwards. “I just wanted to get some ice cream. I don’t want to do this with you.” You cast a mournful look at the freezers behind him, and then turn away, a barely there goodbye whispered over your shoulder.

[narumi-gens]

boundaries gojo satoru x f!reader

post-breakup!gojo who can't quite follow through on the breaking up. he's as present in your life after he ended things as he was when you were still dating.

he still blows up your phone at all hours with nothing important. he insists on holding your hand when you walk side-by-side. he still uses your apartment key, which you never had the heart to ask for him to return. you've ended up in more than one heated makeout session with him, although you have managed to keep them from progressing past him feeling up your tits over your bra.

and when you end up in the hospital after a mission, he shows up before even shoko can get there. you sigh when his towering form appears in the doorway of the room you've been given.

"looks worse than it is," you say and despite the way you slur your words due to the painkillers, it's true.

your concussion, while serious, isn't something that wouldn't heal on its own. your broken ribs managed to avoid puncturing any organs. even the burst blood vessel in your left eye that's colored the white of your eye a ghastly red is only really a surface-level injury.

but for once, the man who never shuts up stays silent as he pulls a chair close and sits at your bedside. he reaches for your hand but pauses when you wince at the pressure on the two fingers that are fractured and wrapped in a splint. instead, he settles for loosely holding onto your wrist.

"shoko's gonna fix it all anyways," you tell him through a yawn, your eyelids feeling heavy. "'sides, you shouldn't even be here. boundaries, satoru. 'member?"

it's a word that you've tossed in his face so many times since the breakup that it's lost all meaning. and it doesn't help that you've never managed to say it with any sort of real weight. instead, it usually comes out on the end of a resigned sigh.

you can feel his gaze on you even through his dumb sunglasses. normally, even post-breakup, you would reach out and pull them down his nose to meet those cursed eyes of his and make some joke. but with your brain working at a diminished capacity and your arm hooked up to an IV full of the best painkillers japan's doctors have to offer, all you can do is slowly blink at him in return.

"it's always boundaries this, boundaries that with you," he finally retorts with a shake of his head, but offers nothing else.

"'f you didn't want boundaries then you shouldn't've ended things, y'big dummy," you mumble, and no longer able to keep your eyes open, you finally let them close.

"I told you. I don't have room in my life for anyone else – i.e., you," he replies bluntly and you can feel the fit of giggles that you want to burst into, but all you can manage is a soft huff of laughter.

"liar," you say with a sleepy smile stretching across your lips. "can't even be honest when I'm strung out on painkillers. psh. lame."

it takes monumental effort, but you manage to crack open an eye so that you can see him sporting his own cheeky grin.

silence settles over you both and you feel yourself slowly beginning to fall into the blackness as your breathing slows. the soothing sensation of gojo's thumb rubbing circles on the skin of your wrist only aids in pushing you closer and closer to sleep.

"you were considered a suitable match." even on the edge of consciousness, the disgust in his tone at those two words reaches you. "I couldn't let them get what they wanted."

you let out a quiet hum in acknowledgment and wish you had enough strength to open your eyes, curious to see if he's surprised you weren't fully asleep yet.

"still letting 'em control you, hm? s'good we broke up. want someone who's only tied down by me," you mumble.

"baby, if you want to tie me down, all you had to do was say so," he jokingly responds, unsurprisingly choosing to sidestep the gravity of your words, no matter how slurred they were.

"boundaries, 'toru..." you trail off as you finally succumb to sleep.

[jolapeno]

take you to the hilltop, and tell you you're pretty

francisco morales x f!reader | my frankie masterlist

summary: you book a guided hike tour for one when on your trip, not at all expecting your guide to be so damn hot.

warnings: just fluff. hike guide!frankie. flirting. questionable preparation for a hike from you. wordcount: 2.8k an: written for @secretelephanttattoo's secret springs from the spin-that-wheel. i know nothing about nature or hiking, so, Vans would also be what i would wear.

You swear it should be illegal to be up at this time.

The alarm rudely yanks you from dreamy sleep, dragging you out of warm bedsheets and onto the cold wooden hotel floor before you groggily find yourself under lukewarm water that washes away the last remnants of sleep. Stepping out of the steam somewhat more awake and fresh than you’d anticipated.

The walk to meet him, though, is still a struggle.

Your overfilled water bottle sloshing around in your bag, likely flattening your store-bought sandwiches into pancakes as you turn from the cobbled street to the gravel parking lot, finding him—the guide from the photo on the website.

He’s waiting, leaning casually resting against the side of his truck, the dried mud flakes, dirt and dust, all standing out like badges of past expeditions.

Francisco, you hum to yourself. The name given to you on the email confirmation, along with the instructions and directions of where to meet.

Damn, he is cute. Cuter than the website has him looking—broader too.

You can’t help but smile when you approach, kicking at a stone, wincing from it and the bright morning light.

“Morning,” he calls out.

Squinting your eyes, you spot him lifting his aviators before he’s frowning, head tilting forward as though zooming—

“No.”

Snorting, you continue walking to him. “Good morning and nice to meet you too.”

“You can’t wear those.”

“Say it with more disgust why don’t you.”

Shaking his head, he scoffs again. “Where are your hiking boots?”

“Oh, those? They’re back at the hotel. Thought I’d wear these instead, make a blood vessel pop in your neck.”

“Do you know how far this hike is?”

Sliding your phone from your pocket, swiping up as the email illuminates, you smirk. “No. Because when you claim a hike guide voucher, it says all information related to your hike will be sent to you twenty-four hours ahead of your hike by your guide.”

His muttered curse proves he recalls as much. Removing his sunglasses, threading an arm through the collar of his t-shirt.

“You can’t do this walk in Vans.”

“Well, it’s all I have...”

Kicking off from his position, he shakes his head, opening the trunk of his truck, making more noises and emitting harsh sighs, before he’s holding a pair of boots and a small flask.

“Take them off.”

“Please.”

“Please.”

You narrow your eyes but comply, toeing off your shoe before pressing the back of the opposite, until you’re slipping out of one and he drops down to a crouched position as he hands you the flask. No words, no gesture, just a silent command as your hand snakes around the handle.

For his brutish movements with the flask, he’s surprisingly careful, cautious, with your feet. More than you’d have expected. Meticulous, easing, taking your ankle gently and sliding it into the boot, the breeze blowing his curls—showcasing the slithers of silver that wraps inside the blends of browns.

“How’d you know my size?”

Snorting, Francisco looks up as he laces you, as he pulls on each and makes you almost jolt. “The paperwork you filled out.”

It’s your turn to remember.

Shame floods your cheeks, not knowing where to look to look before you stare at the ground. Choosing to take in the little pellets of dirt that make up more dirt, rather than linger on the way his hair curls around his ears—how one needs tucking more behind.

Swallowing, you shake your head. Focusing instead on the flask warming your hand, trying to fill the void of quiet with any sort of comment back, but they’re all lost on your tongue, vanished from the back of your throat before hearing him. All low-voiced, almost gruff—speaking into your laces—about how they keep backups, just in case, bad weather, losses—

“People lose their boots?”

Snorting, he looks up and somehow, unknowingly, you forget how to fucking breathe. Wearing the evidence of it too. Almost parading that you’re so single that a mere five-minute interaction has you almost ready to declare this a date only for him to then fuck with your emotions even more by smiling.

The soft kind that spreads into his eyes and makes them warmer—make his eyes more doe-eyed, round, all warm brown with flecks of caramel.

“Be surprised on some of these walks.”

Now, he’s tapping your booted foot, moving to the other, and you’re just watching. Ogling, admiring. Your tongue thickens in your head as you curse the gift voucher, as you both love and loathe that you’re ridiculously single because you’re out of practice.

“Ready?”

Nodding, you pull yourself from your thoughts, offering him the flask.

“It’s for you.”

“Oh.”

Picking up his bag from close to his tyre, he shoots you a smile. “It’s an early one. Thought you might appreciate the extra helping hand.”

Then he shrugs. As though the act is nothing, almost meaningless.

“Come on,” he says, snapping the clasp on his bag over his chest—somehow making himself appear even more broad than you know it is.

You have to admit, the view is pretty—and you don’t just mean him.

The landscape is breathtaking, a thing you almost admit when the two of you come to a stop to eat. But, then you find him staring, watching, as though seeing it through your eyes is a thing he both craves and needs.

Somehow, even with how good the hike has been, you don’t wish to relent that just yet. Don’t wish to let him know he was right, that your earlier grumbling about nature just not being for you had very much vanished now you could appreciate it like this.

Francisco, or Frankie, is funny.

Sometimes not always obviously, more in a dry way that takes you a second before a scoff merges with a breath when you try to keep up with him. Drips and drops of him slipping out as you purge him for information, weaving and needling him until he cracks open and spills everything.

It passes the time, the sun rising in increments through the trees before the two of you come to the clearing you’re paused at.

“Shit.”

“What?”

Shaking your head, you zip up your bag, tears pricking at your eyes as you stare off at the rolling hills.

“You not eating?”

“No,” you say, “Not hungry.”

Clearing his throat, sighing. “Water bottle leaked?”

“How’d you fucking know?”

He laughs and it echoes. Vibrating out of him as you stare at him almost dumbfounded, his shoulder pressing more intently against yours as his hand clutches his chest, head thrown back, eyes crinkled shut as the laugh begins to tickle one from you too.

It’s loud—his laugh. But not in a way that’s annoying or too much. But one that you could bet on recognising from a room away, maybe even over the water and clearing if it was as quiet as it is now. Your eyes flick over him, taking in the wiry hair around his jaw, and the curls that wrap around his ears.

“Alright, alright,” you prod, his laugh dying, throwing a fake roll of your eyes when you feel him watching.

“You’d be surprised how many have the same thing happen.” His hand vanishes, digging into his bag before he retrieves more foil-wrapped food coming out with it. “Here.”

“You always share your food with those you take on a hike?”

Elbowing you lightly, your fingers unfolding the foil as you grin. “No.”

Smirking, gaze flicking over him. “Are you making an exception in nature?”

His eyes glint, the corner of his lips rising into his cheek. “Don’t tell the trees.”

Before you take a bite, hovering it close to your lips, you look at him, finding him already watching you from the corner of his eye.

“Your secret is safe with me, Frankie.”

“You owe me.”

Is he flirting? You wonder, adding a snort. “Oh well, you let me know how I can repay you.”

You don’t miss the low way he shyly mutters that he will, or how it seems to make you press your thighs together on instinct.

On the descent, you learn more about him under trees that cast shadows and through wildflowers of pastel shades.

Frankie used to be a pilot. He’d needed a fresh start, a new beginning, found one here as a tour guide. He likes dry nuts but not in baked goods and he prefers his coffee dark, more often without milk.

You notice, some of the things he spills fall from him with jagged edges, as though much of it has been a well-kept secret. A thing he’s kept close to his chest, somehow crumbling under your earlier questions to now openly just sharing.

When the two of you come to another pause, you almost gloat at it—go to ask him if he’s usually this talkative, or if you’re special. But the words fade, dissolve, right on your tongue when you learn what it feels like to have his chest pressed to your back. When you discover how broad he is, solid. How he’s ridiculously warm as he points over your shoulder to a clearing, as the other hand rests on your waist for stability, giving some indication and story about what is so important about where you’re stood.

But you can’t hear him.

Too busy, too focused on how good he smells for saying you’ve been hiking for hours—and how inappropriate this might be if he’s just doing his job.

Because there’s a distinct musk scent that’s sliding into your nose, all but woven itself in woodiness, an earthy almost peppery scent that seems to smother over any scents of nature.

“—it’s one of the prettier spots on the trail. So, thought you might like it.”

You’re prettier, you think.

Sighing with your thoughts until you hear him cough, clearing his throat.

It isn’t an intention to turn to face him, to find yourself up close, but you do. Eyes fixed on his, chest pressing to his chest as you take a nervous swallow.

“Did I…”

“Say that out loud?”

“Shit.”

“Hey, it’s fine,” he reassures, hand scratching at the back of his head.

Something thrums, a second pulse beating between your thighs when he drags the tip of his tongue across his lower lip.

“I did mean it—that you’re prettier.”

And fuck, even his shyness is endearing on him. Rosy pink spread out across his cheeks, even over the bridge of his nose. A mumbled thanks leaving his lips as he continued to linger on your face, not turning away, not giving any signs that you’d overstepped too much.

“Anyway, what’s your favourite spot on the trail, Frankie?”

His mouth opens, words set to spill, but they’re swallowed, hidden. Figurative walls come down before he blinks and looks around, weighing his options as he takes another glance at the watch on his wrist—the practical one. The one you assume could get wet, could hit against a rock and even be set on fire and would still work.

“I can show you?”

“If… you want to?”

He cocks his head, slides his jaw. “I’ve got nowhere else to be today, do you?”

With a smile, you shake your head and you swear his eyes smile, even before his eyes do.

It turns out Frankie’s favourite place on the trail is a little coffee truck with table and chairs overlooking a cliff edge with greenery, crystal waters and what you suspect is a rocky bit of beach.

“This isn’t a usual spot on the trail, is it?”

Blowing on his cup, he shakes his head, lips sliding perfectly into his cheek.

“I’m going to start thinking I’m special, Frankie.”

He shrugs, placing his coffee down on the wooden table before tracing his thumb over his lower lip. “Your voucher has expired now.”

“Oh, so this means I have to amble back by myself or?”

Shaking his head, leaning his forearm on the table, fingers inching closer to yours. “No. It means I can say that maybe you are. Special, that is.”

Heat floods your cheek, kisses the tips of your ears, as you whisper an oh. Your heart thumping a little, quickening in your chest, staring at him as you try to take a measured breath—to think of something, anything, to say—

“Anyway,” he says, and you wonder if it’s a nod to your earlier slip-up, “You think you’d do another? Hike, I mean?”

Taking a sip from your drink, scrunching your nose at how warm it is—the steam tickling your lip. “Maybe. Not sure they’d be as informative as you.”

“Yes, I think many wouldn’t be able to go, trees, water, don’t slip and watch out for boulders.”

Smiling, you shake your head. “You did have to hold my hand when we walked over that edge, not sure another guide would do so with as much patience.”

His eyes glisten, stare momentarily dropped before it’s back on you with the warmth of a thousand suns. “Couldn’t let you fall.”

“Because it’s bad for your rep?”

He takes a sip of his coffee as he smirks.

You take the moment to blow on yours, inhaling the scent of it, somehow finding it’s not able—even with how strong it is—to know the scent of him from your nose. Not even as the tip almost touches the steaming liquid.

“Hey, you think you’d be okay to walk with that?”

Squinting, hand coming up over your brows so you can see him as the sun peers from around the trees. “I think I can manage. Or, I’ll try not to force you to grab my waist to keep me steady again, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

It’s his turn to snort before he slides his sunglasses from his nose, offering them out to you.

“Frankie, you don’t have—”

“If you burn yourself by slipping on a rock, I’m liable.”

Taking them, placing them on your nose and pushing them up, you stare at him through them—finding him smirking, taking another sip.

“I thought my voucher had expired.”

He says nothing, just shoots you a smirk.

You’d never admit it, but you’re disappointed the journey from his spot to his truck is short. The coffee in your cup is now just mere dregs, his own gone before the two of you had even begun your descent back, and his sunglasses are tucked into the collar of his tee again.

Lingering, hovering, you watch as he removes his bag—having unclipped it from over his chest—placing it down as he fusses for his keys before his truck beeps and he’s back in the trunk.

“So, do I give you your five-star review here or do I wait for the email?”

He laughs from inside the vehicle, the tinted glass hiding whether he’s grinning or if he’s shaking his head as you undo both laces and slide your foot from one boot as he emerges, placing your shoes back on the ground close to you.

“Seriously,” you continue, motioning to return the boots and put your familiar ones back on, “I had a nice time.”

“Told you nature wasn’t all that bad.”

Snorting, you hand him the boots back, trying not to react when you feel the current in your fingers when he brushes yours. Trying not to show that your heart skips a beat when you flick your gaze up and find his already on you.

“Hey. So… I don’t usually do this.”

Pulling your hand back, you slide it around your bag strap, shifting on the spot—feet happily wiggling back in your Vans—as you blank your face, smear innocence over it. “A line so many people say.”

His lips curl, teeth biting as he takes a breath. “Do you think I could see you again? Not on a voucher.”

Smiling, letting it open out as your lips part. “Can it be inside?” Shrugging, he nods. “Then, yeah. I’d like that.”

“Good. Cool.”

“Oh, just so you know, Frankie. I leave in six days.”

His brows lift, creasing his forehead as you watch him swallow. “Oh, right.”

“So, what I mean by that is, if you want to see me again, maybe… it can be tonight?”

Your stomach knots. Nervousness barrages in your veins as you try to keep your eyes up, your back straight—ignoring the way your pulse now pounds in your chest, in your throat, in your ears.

Because you don’t do this either.

Tightening your grip on your bag, taking even breaths as he slowly, but surely, beams.

“I know a place.”

“Inside, right?”

Rolling his eyes, smirking—the sign of a dimple threatening to show. “Not exactly, but it’s a bistro.”

Stepping forward, all caution thrown to the wind, you press a kiss to his cheek—soft, gentle, almost a blink and you’ll miss it. “I think I can do that.”

Pink smothers his cheeks, his hand almost rising to touch where you’d kissed before he drops his hand and flexes it. “Do you… you think I could pick you up from your hotel?”

Nodding, and swallowing, you smile. “Okay.”

[tunastime]

do androids dream of electric sheep?

I am nothing if not a vessel for self-indulgent docsuma, especially @shepscapades's dbhc self-indulgent docsuma. sometimes you fall asleep in the lab, and sometimes your friend feels compelled to make sure you're okay <3

(3964 words)

Doc sometimes slips into daydream.

It’s not unlike him. He’d been doing it for some time now, some fix halfway between awake and Sleep Mode. Not quite his mind palace, but still wedged into predictive processes, still trying to work to replay memories. In quiet moments, more often than not, he finds that it’s easier to slip away, to tuck himself into his work, drafting, or building, or walking thoughtful circles and let the mechanical parts of his mind slip away into calculation.

In those same dreams, he tries to calculate the probability of events with what he has, blocking out the movements of who he knows best, who he may be able to pinpoint. He works in quiet as his mind runs in the background, wondering how conversations may go, how actions could be perceived. He maps what might happen if someone got hurt, or if someone needed help, or if someone fell asleep in the lab. Someone. Just anyone. He tells himself it could be anyone, but he would be lying if he didn’t know who.

It was hard, right—it felt wrong if he didn’t. Something he was designed to do, put to waste because it felt silly to imagine waking his lab partner, his friend, making sure he was alright, helping him. Was it wrong to want to be helpful? Was it wrong to want anything? It feels—it’s silly. Want was such a human word. He’s not sure he can really want at all. The paper in front of him is getting fuzzy around the edges, though, as he forces himself back into his true waking mode, and focuses on the task in front of him, now a line of text in his eyesight.

Doc leans hard on his hand, cupped around the side of his jaw as he studies the plans in front of him. He’s long since set them to memory, easily recalled with the summon of command, but he works out the fine details of the draft in front of him, still unsatisfied with his new creation. He works quietly, mentally mapping the lists of supplies he might need, the time it may take. If he were to concentrate the slightest bit more on the display in the corner of his vision, he might note how late it had gotten. Without any windows down here, the night sky can’t leak in, which means Doc doesn’t know it’s gotten dark until Xisuma starts to yawn or he manages to peek outside. 

He sets his pad down, eyes skimming the surface. Right, and where was X, anyway? The space, ever growing, up, down, sideways, that he used as his lab had gone still and quiet some time ago. Enough for Doc to take note of. Enough to be a little odd, he would assume, even for him, and the behaviors he knows well from Xisuma. Xisuma didn’t just wander off without a word—he was much too narrative for that. Doc sits up, hand falling to the table. 

“X?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows. The room stays quiet, aside from the hum of recirculating air and electronics. Doc taps his hand against the table—it was some sort of tic he’d picked up from Ren, a sign of his impatience. He couldn’t shake the habit of mimicking it while he was thinking.

Okay, right. Last time he saw X. He gathers up the recall of the path Xisuma would’ve taken from his side, checking over his work at Doc’s request, and around the lab itself, looping back to a series of benches to work on. Leaning from his spot, he tries to pinpoint the peek of green helmet or shoulder piece. He finds neither in the direct line of sight, though, and slowly, bracing his prosthetic arm on the table, Doc stands. 

It’s a gentle quiet that fills the room, nice and easy and soft to step through as Doc makes his way around the space. Despite having another work bench quite close, Xisuma had a habit of leaving his stuff about, flitting between projects as he saw fit. It was interesting, sometimes, to watch him move around the room—not that Doc had done any of that. He seemed to bounce from point to point, sometimes staying still for hours, unmoving, lost in work. It was in those hours that Doc found himself watching, just for a moment, studying the shallow curve of his nose and the way his hair fell into his face from behind his helmet. 

His office is here, too. Though it’s no different than any other working space in terms of equipment, the space itself is fully outfitted, lined with tools and a large work table, his computer, a desk with a chair. Through the glass, he can see the shape of Xisuma at his desk, likely too caught up in whatever he had been working on to notice Doc’s concern. Doc pauses as he slides open the door, standing in the doorway, announcing himself to the cluttered room.

“Xisuma,” Doc starts. “I know it’s late, if you want to head home, I’m sure I can finish…”

Xisuma is slumped over on  his desk as Doc enters. There’s a brief moment, no more than a second, where Doc’s mind spins a scenario hard and fast, the crumpled shape of Xisuma over his desk. But he can see the slow rise and fall of his shoulders. He registers the slow, steady heartbeat in Xisuma’s chest, and his shoulders sag with relief. He stands in the doorway for a moment. Xisuma looks small, head pillowed on his arms. He’s still running a series of code on the console next to him, which illuminates the back of his head in pale lines of data. His hair falls half loose across his shoulder, like he’d forgotten to finish tying it away from his face, and the slow, deep breaths make it seem like he’d been sleeping here a lot longer than Doc realized. He’s without his helmet, too, which sits beside him on the desk, discarded.

Long enough to get a sore neck and complain about his upper back hurting. Long enough to worry that he might not be getting enough oxygen. Doc sets his shoulders. There’s something in his chest that feels like it skips—regulator, pump, or otherwise. They work in tandem to produce whatever fluttery feeling invades the space where his ribs should be. He presses the heel of his synthetic hand against the depression of his chest, rolling his wrist. The feeling fades for a moment, shuddering through his wrists like it might rest there. He was never going to get used to it, was he?

He steps into the lab proper, sticking his hands into his pockets. He picks his way around the room, trying to walk quietly around it. Xisuma stays asleep, shoulders rising and falling in that even tempo. Doc crouches beside him—Xisuma is properly slumped, back curved forward as he rests. What little Doc can see of his face is soft with sleep, eyelids fluttering just so. When X doesn’t move, he rests his palm over the curve of his shoulder, gentle and slow. He tries not to focus on the fact that so much of his face is exposed to him, aside from just his eyes and the bridge of his nose. He’s seen him before, briefly, every so often, but it was so different watching him now, calm and comfortable. Doc forces himself to focus.

“Xisuma,” he says, voice dipping low and quiet. He runs his hand over the part of his shoulderblade he can reach. He pats the high of his back. “Xisuma, hey…”

X takes a long breath in, making a squeaky sort of sound high in his chest. Doc feels him hum out from under his hand.

“Doc,” he says, voice rumbling in his chest. It was a tired sort of rumble, just on the edge of being rough with sleep, just enough to bring that feeling back to Doc’s internal components, like thirium was sludging too quick too warm through him. He huffs a little breath, a sound caught in his throat.

“You fell asleep at your desk, X,” Doc says, not able to weasel the amusement out of his voice. He runs his hand over his back again, just to see Xisuma’s eyes open tiredly, and shut again. It was so unlike the version of him that he knew in his mind, seeing him savor the brief contact, even from Doc. Especially from Doc. Xisuma was always the one reaching out for him, repairing or correcting or studying. All with purpose. There was no lingering touch between them. And though this had its purpose too, Doc lingered, feeling Xisuma breathe under his hand. 

“Sorry,” X mumbles, finally moving to lift his head, to open his eyes. Doc’s hand slides away as X sits up, over his back and back to Doc’s side. Xisuma blinks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the heel of his hands. A frown comes between his eyes as he tries to focus the world around him a little clearer. Like it were mimicking the score across his cheek and nose, there’s a fine indent pressed into his cheek. Doc smiles at him, scrunching his nose in a way he’s seen X do a hundred times. 

Xisuma jolts, half reaching for the helmet beside him. If Doc were to really look, he might see the pink-red flush over his cheeks and ears.

“Sorry—I didn’t…”

There he lingers, halfway to reaching. Doc looks away from him, purposefully averting his eyes.

“I don’t mind,” he says. “You have to be comfortable too.”

Xisuma hums, smiling a little, hanging his head as he leaves his hand on the table.

“Hah,” he says, ears still pink. “Right. Sorry, sorry, Doc. Didn’t mean to worry you.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “I didn’t know where you had gone off to, so I figured I would come make sure you were okay.”

X nods. Doc watches him twist around, hearing the faint give and pop as his spine adjusts to sitting upright. 

“‘M alright,” he says. Then he laughs a bit—the sound is airy and half in his chest, enough to shake his shoulders but more of a wheeze than anything else. Everything fit so well to the timbre of Xisuma’s voice, it seemed, be it the way he moved about, or the way he laughed, or the way his shoulder sloped or face was shaped. Not that Doc had been looking. Regardless, Xisuma sighs, and smiles back at him.

“Just embarrassed is all,” he manages. “Thanks, Doc. I appreciate you.”

X leans back in his chair. Doc watches him resettle and hum to himself as he gets comfortable against the plush backing. Doc makes a clipped sound, reaches out and moves away again, halfway between shaking him awake and letting him sleep.

“X,” he says. “Would it not be more comfortable if you were sleeping in your spare room?”

Xisuma frowns. 

“Would be,” he says, eyes still closed, mumbling. “It just gets awfully cold in there. ‘N if I’m perfectly comfortable in here, why not stay tha’way?”

It’s almost amusing, the trickle of stubbornness that leaks into the tired slur of Xisuma’s voice. It’s almost endearing. He watches X fold his arms over his chest, armor only partly discarded, watches his face wrinkle as he notices and tries to rearrange himself. Doc smiles, something that he simply can’t help—it feels so right, considering how ridiculous this is. He considers his options and weighs the success rates, the action taking a fraction of a second in time, though the scene plays out in his head in full.

“Because you’ll hurt your back,” Doc says plainly. X frowns, clearly mulling it over. There—that’s one that Doc knows, that face, where X slips into thought and worries the inside of his cheek and works his jaw. Doc raises his eyebrows, as if to question him without saying anything, without Xisuma even looking at him.

“Mhh,” Xisuma huffs. He pulls his knees up. Somehow, he manages to fit himself into his desk chair, curling his tall body over his knees and leaning sideways into the back. Doc hums, makes the approximation of the sound he knows.

“Xisuma,” he says. “I’m not going to let you sleep in that chair, you know. You are being stubborn.”

“M‘kay, okay…” Xisuma wheezes, finally uncurling himself.

It takes him a second. Watching Xisuma stretch and blink awake is like watching him come to life. He stretches up and around, face pulling as he likely unsuccessfully shakes the tension from the line of his spine. As he twists, he freezes, face scrunching all at once as he winces, hand shooting up to cup his neck.

“Ow. Jeez.”

He can see it tight in his shoulders and neck, even as X deflates, looking up at him blearily, still slightly slumped in his chair. His eyes shut again. 

“Xisuma…” Doc says, mouth twisting.

X sighs.

“‘M fine, Doc,” he manages to murmur out. “Just’a sore neck. Mm’exhausted.”

“Sounds like you need a real bed, mm?” Doc replies, setting his hands on his hips. Xisuma peeks at him, one eye opening, and shutting again.

He sees the fraction of a smile lift the corners of X’s mouth.

“Sure, sure…”

Doc looks over Xisuma’s face. With his eyes shut, face softening, hair tumbling over one shoulder, he looks comfortable. It’s as if someone took a brush to his features and smoothed out any hard edge—either that, or the static has leaked back into Doc’s vision. He feels a chug in his chest and his joints as he locks up.

X hasn’t moved. Doc reaches out, tapping his knee. Xisuma huffs, clearly startled from the half-sleep he’d drifted back into.

“Too tired t’stand,” he manages. Doc makes a questioning noise.

“I think you can make it,”

There’s a beat of silence. Xisuma cracks an eye open again, shuts it, furrowing his eyebrows. Doc watches him curiously, mind running through the list of possible scenarios. He’s made it part way when Xisuma says:

“‘M using you t’stand, then.”

And he makes a little, amused heh, before he says:

“That’s fine.”

There’s something he means to say alongside that, but as soon as X’s very warm, very human hand makes contact with the fabric of his lab coat and the cool synthetic of his arm, he loses focus. He should be used to this—the amount of times X has performed his routine maintenance, sweeping his hands over the replaced shoulder joint to check for seams, or made sure the regulator functioned, or backed up personal data, fingers skimming the shallow port at the back of his neck. He should be, but that contact alone sends a prickling-warm jolt up his arm. It feels foreign to let the touch linger. But Xisuma lingers regardless, hand flat against the space where Doc’s left ribs should be. He’s gone from holding, to simply sitting there, arm bent at the elbow, held weakly up. 

“Mrghh…” he complains. Doc taps his elbow, trying to jolt him back awake.

“C’mon, X, you can get up.”

X shakes his head slowly, his hand finding the inner curve of his prosthetic arm, squeezing just once, like he’s remembering it’s there. Then, X leans into him, all at once, slumping into his chest. Doc lets out a wouf in surprise. He holds still, aside from the simulated breath in his chest. After a moment, Xisuma makes a small, tired sound, almost like a laugh.

“Houfh,” he mumbles. “I, mm, don’t…don’t think ‘m gonna make it, Doc.”

“Mhm…” Doc chides. 

Xisuma laughs again, lying still for a moment, voice still heavy with sleep. There’s a moment where he shifts, and there’s a small, painful noise that he makes.

“Ow, mrrgh—ow, okay—” he gripes. Doc’s synthetic hand finds the curve of his shoulder, patting gently.

“Oh, X—just…stay still, mhm?”

“Mm,” Xisuma says tiredly, “Alright.”

As much as he wants to move him, X is still wearing that damn armor.

Doc lets him lean into his chest as he tries to weasel off the bits of armor left over. It’s a struggle, keeping X comfortable and trying not to pull him around awkwardly, while trying to remove his chestplate with one hand. Once the armor pulls away, he resettles him, slowly scoops one hand under his legs. Something about this, about the way Xisuma leaned heavy into him, felt so painfully human he feels it curl up between the wires connecting his regulator to his side fans.

“Ready?” he says, mostly to the top of Xisuma’s head.

“Mmh…” X murmurs.

He hefts him into his arms, settling him against his chest. When Xisuma sighs, it’s profound and heavy and he tucks his face into Doc’s coat. Doc can feel the remnant of heartbeat from where his arm rests behind his back, thudding away behind his ribs. His breathing stays even, though shallow. One of Xisuma’s hands clasps over the back of his neck, keeping him still.

It’s a careful walk to Xisuma’s spare room. Doc is careful not to bump anything, measuring the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he walks. He drifts back to sleep, though, through the lab, through Doc shutting the lights off. He’ll have to come back through to power down their various computers, but for now, the dull white-blue glow illuminates the room. He carries him into the halls and through and to his room. It’s smaller than the room in his base by a sizable margin—just enough for the essentials. X stirs as Doc pauses to flip on the lamp, the light warm and yellow briefly illuminating the room. This can’t be a daydream, now, with the way X sighs and wriggles himself free as Doc pulls back the quilts and lets him down. He sits down with him, and the warm shape that Xisuma makes curls toward him, just a fraction, as he pulls the blankets over him. 

Part of Doc knows that Xisuma won’t remember him carrying him to bed, or making sure he was warm, or keeping the light on so he wasn’t disoriented when he woke. Xisuma sighs, sinking into the pillows, expression relaxed and content. Doc hums.

“That’s better, yeah?” Doc says. He reaches out, instinct, want, desire, something, hammering away in his chest, as he brushes hair from X’s face, tucking it behind his ear. He brushes through the hair close to the base of his neck, across his cheek with his synthetic thumb. His dark hair is fine and soft and it must be a daydream—or it isn’t and he was right, because there have been moments like this in his head. Wondering if Xisuma would let himself succumb to soft comforts. He’s spent his own share of time lying next to him, ignoring the way Xisuma curls up next to him, pretending he himself didn’t move closer when Xisuma lies still. It was this dance that Doc didn’t understand, that he wasn’t sure if he was overthinking. Or overstepping. But Xisuma shifts, pressing his cheek to Doc’s synthetic palm, and Doc suppresses a shudder. It sparks something that could’ve been painful right up his arm and through his chest, bright and warm and staticky. 

Doc hums, smiling to himself. Something like a dull thrum knocks in that space of his pump, pushing itself a little further, a little harder. It was sweet. X trusts him, not only to see him without his armor, but to help him to bed, to help him sleep. But Doc lifts his hand away, feeling that ache, the nervous shudder through his system.

X makes a sound, then, something small, eyes fluttering as Doc pulls away. Doc pauses.

“Mhh,” X manages. Doc swallows—he shouldn’t have to. That’s not something he should have to do, or be able to do, but the action just feels appropriate. It goes right along with sighing and laughing, and as he does it, Xisuma says:

“Thanks,” in a small, soft voice, and, muffled, and slightly slurred with sleep: “Didn’t have’ta stop.”

“You’re supposed to be sleeping, Xisuma,” Doc says. He can feel his temperature tick up several notches, no doubt a blue flush coming to the high of his cheeks, the bridge of his nose. He laughs, just a bit. “Did I wake you up?”

X sighs, stretching as he does.

“No,” he manages. “No, y’didn’t…”

“Oh,” Doc says. “Were you awake this whole time?”

Xisuma nods slowly. Ah. Ah. Doc dismisses a temperature notification.

“A little.”

“Mm,” Doc hums. “Silly Xisuma.”

Xisuma laughs. The sound is high and a little fuzzy and a bit caught in his throat. His bright eyes blink up at him and shut again as a smile settles on his face. 

“Doc?” he asks. 

“Mhm?”

Xisuma yawns, smothering it with the back of his hand, just barely. He tucks that hand close to his chest, curling up further still under his thick comforter. 

“Could you…could’you do tha’again? The…” Xisuma lifts his hand, miming a brushing motion as he does. Another temperature warning, higher than the last, blips into Doc’s field of vision. It’s immediately dismissed, but he pulls in a breath, quiet, trying to turn it into a soft laugh.

“I can do that,” Doc says gently. Gingerly, he brushes his fingers through X’s hair, sliding back against his head. He combs through, lifting his hand to go back to his forehead, back to cradle his skull. X’s eyes fall closed again.

Doc can tell the moment that Xisuma truly slips into sleep. He lingers in his space, tracing out the base of his skull with his thumb, taking in the sensation of warmth and contact and stimulation, fingers flickering white up to his wrist. He wishes biting down on his tongue would do anything. He wishes that the hollow of his chest didn’t hold a weight that no diagnostic could fix. He felt too awkward and stilted and not nearly gentle enough. But as Xisuma stays asleep, he draws his hand away. He mumbles his good nights as he stands slowly, shutting out the light and wandering from the room. 

He makes his way back into the lab. He replays the memory of Xisuma’s small smile, the fine line of his scar as he’d pressed his face into the pillow, the way he’d relaxed against Doc’s touch. He replays the memory, again, and again. It has to be a daydream. Has to be. There’s no other logical explanation to all of that.

Maybe that would explain the ache in his chest, far too human to be his own.

Doc goes back to work. He sits down at the lab table, spreading his arms as he braces against the white tabletop. He furrows his eyebrows. Something doesn’t feel right, too warm or out of place. He feels gross. Not gross bad, maybe, gross different? Broken? Not broken, maybe. Weird. Wrong. Out of place. It doesn’t make any sense. Or it has, and he’s refusing the obvious answer. Xisuma didn’t ask for any reason. Xisuma asked because he was tired, and tired people do silly things, and silly people are a handful, and Xisuma is a handful—a lovely one. Doc shuts his eyes. His chest hurts. It’s an awful hurt, actually, less painful than it is just weird. He thinks for a moment he might be better off if he left, maybe the weight of whatever lingered in his memory would be better off if he were to take a break from standing in the same spaces. 

He sends Xisuma a message. From his office, he hears his com ping.

Docm77 whispered to you… Xisuma I’m stepping out, sleep well :-)

[ronwestbreeze]

you're gonna go far | 9

pairing: jake sully x neytiri x tsu'tey x fem!human! reader summary: a scientist arrives on pandora (unwillingly) a year after the exile of the rda. now she must deal with the likes of a clan leader, a great warrior, and a thanator rider. word count: 6.3k warnings: mentions of suicide (not explicit!)

read on AO3

Tsu’tey remembered when he first came back from death.

It was like clawing out of the ground and feeling as though there was dirt filling his lungs. He remembered Arvok hugging him and crying into his shoulder when he found him awake. He remembered his father sitting nearby and quietly thanking the Great Mother for this second chance, for this mercy, even though they didn’t deserve it. He remembered his mother calling him a gift and that Eywa favored him, that he was the true and chosen Olo’eyktan to the People. Like he was some type of god that Eywa created herself.

He remembered feeling so horrible that his mother didn’t even see him as her son anymore. But a god of sorts. An idol to look to.

Someone so perfect that no one, not even a demon or the daughter of a “simple” Tsahik deserved his attention or praise.

The People celebrated once they learned that Tsu’tey had survived the battle, even when all the odds were against him. In a way, they looked to him as some sort of god too. Not to the extent that Artsut did but idolized him, nonetheless. Tsu’tey remembered feeling frozen as if he were turned to stone, hardened into an empty vessel.

He didn’t feel like himself. He just felt exhausted.

All. The. Time.

And no matter what he did, that exhaustion or feeling of wanting to sleep for a long, long time, never left him. He was just stuck in this state where he was both living but half buried in the ground.

It wasn’t until Tsu’tey confessed to what he was feeling to Jake who then put everything he felt into words that he could not—still couldn’t—quite understand.

“It’s a common thing we humans feel,” Jake explained once when it was just the two of them in the middle of the night.

Sitting in a tree, watching a lively celebration far below. That world seemed so far away at the time. And it was then that Tsu’tey felt like the god his mother praised him to be. Disconnected from the world that he so cherished but watched over them with a protective heart.

“That exhaustion, truthfully, that probably won’t ever go away. This depression can wear us down until all we want to do is sleep without worrying about waking up. Living doesn’t feel the same anymore. Almost like it’s a burden to both you and everyone around you. And then comes the exhaustion.”

Tsu’tey stared at Jake, both thoughtfully and to memorize every detail of the dreamwalker’s face. “Have you felt this?” It was the predictable question at the time. He seemed to know exactly what Tsu’tey felt, so much so, that it sounded as if he lived through—still went through this experience.

Humans were as peculiar as they were dangerous. They hid their feelings. They didn’t allow themselves the freedom to feel as if someone or something was holding them back. They were often birds trapped in a steel cage when the way out was right in front of their face.

That was a certain observation one would notice if they paid close attention. Tsu’tey paid Jake a lot of attention. Memorized his micro-expressions. Noted the way he hid behind an impenetrable wall with a single window he only allowed certain people to look through.

It’s what Tsu’tey imagined loving Jake would be like. Finding ways to climb over that wall to embrace that lonely soul on the other side.

Which was why he was keenly aware of the fact that Jake never answered his question. But instead said, “Many people don’t always have someone to keep them above the surface. That is why most end up drowning forever until they fall asleep. It’s okay to feel these things, even if they’re hard to acknowledge. And if you need to talk, I’m always here. I’m too human not to help you, even if you don’t approve of me.”

While Jake’s words were somewhat flowery and cautious in delivery, there was Neytiri, who grounded him with her very blunt words.

“You are not a god. You are Tsu’tey.”

She did not see him as a god. And he was grateful for that.

Perhaps that was why he so easily fell for her after the war. Or, rather accepted his feelings after forcing them back because of his guilt with Sylwanin.

You did not see him as a god.

And he was relieved by that.

Yet that relief would soon be buried beneath the horror of something else he saw whenever looking at you.

It was himself.

Half alive. And half buried in the ground.

And Tsu’tey had this strong urge to start digging at the ground with his bare fingers. Until his nails were filled with dirt. Until his clean skin was dirtied. Until they bled.

He owed you that much.

“That demon did this!” His mother, Artsut hissed while she knelt next to Arvok’s sleeping body in some form of protection. She stared up at him, pleading, desperate, and angry. “Will you let that creature run free like you did before? Look what that thing’s done! She’s hurt your blood! Be Olo’eyktan and exact punishment on the ones that hurt your family!”

“Reeds didn’t do this.” His mate, Jake protested calmly—as calmly as he could when it came to Artsut. His arms were wrapped around him so tightly his muscles twitched whenever he moved, tail lashing behind him as he continued. “Arvok had already explained what happened. The Tipani warriors were going for Hell’s Gate. Arvok had tried to stop them, they got pissed and injured him—”

“And who’s fault is that?!” Artsut snapped viciously, eerily resembling that of a palulukan. “If that demon hadn’t landed here none of this would be happening!” She turned her fiery gaze onto Tsu’tey, her pleading becoming more adamant as she spoke. “You must kill it! This is your doing, you never should’ve let it live! And now our clan is in danger because of that creature—”

Jake scoffed, his tail swinging now, “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

Artsut hissed at him, “You do not deserve to speak, demon! I should have connived my son to kill you the first day you came to us—”

“Enough!” Tsu’tey hissed as he stalked forward and grabbed his mother by the arm.

“Tsu’tey—” She tried protesting only to be interrupted by his hiss.

“Be quiet, mother.” He led her out of his shared hut and went outside.

Once they were further away from the entrance, he let her arm go.

“My son—”

“No, mother.” Tsu’tey didn’t want to hear any excuses or laments that would make him feel awful for putting her in her place. “I’ve warned you and you’ve gone too far many times now. You are my mother, I do not wish to remove you from my children’s lives—”

She gasped and grabbed his wrist, “Do not be so cruel to your mother! You would prevent me from seeing my own grandchildren?!”

“You do not even accept the one son that I have!” Tsu’tey snapped but stopped when her eyes widened. He did not wish to shout. He did not wish for any more division. But she wasn’t making it any easier on him. So he continued slowly, “Jakesully is my mate. Neytiri is my mate. I will not allow you to keep disrespecting them. They are a part of my life, they make me happy. Shouldn’t that be what you wish for your own son? Do you not want me to be happy?”

Artsut scoffed in disbelief as if what he was saying were unbelievable, “Of course, I do. I wish for nothing but eternal happiness for my one and only boy—”

“I am not your only child.” He said gently, his heart falling. “Your son nearly died—”

“I know this! Do you think I do not know?!” Her eyes became glassy, her grip on his wrist tightening. “But know this, son. I do want your happiness. That is what any mother wants for her children.”

Tsu’tey watched her with a frown. He wished, he really wished he could believe her. Maybe a part of him did—wanted to. But he couldn’t help this unease in him whenever she was around him and his mates. He’d always feel her disapproval. No matter what flowery words she’d say, she would not change her opinion of Neytiri, Jake, Neteyam, and even their unborn little one.

But today he would not push any further. Today he was simply too tired.

“You should return to your home.” He told her and pulled his wrist free from her grasp. “Arvok will stay with us tonight—”

“Tsu’tey—”

“It is closer to the Tsahik’s where she can come and go freely to check on him.” He turned his back to her as the next words spilled out of his mouth like blood. “I do not want you near during that time. Or for a while. Not until I say you can come.”

There was a beat. And then there was sniffling. Tsu’tey refused to look at her. “You are abandoning your mother! You would do this to your own mother, who carried you for so long—” Tsu’tey ignored her words and ignored the pang in his chest as he forced himself to walk away. “It is that demon that has done this to us! They keep destroying everything we hold dear! If you will not kill it then I will—”

At that, Tsu’tey whirled around and stalked toward her as he spoke warningly, “You should be thanking Eywa that your son isn’t dead! You should be thanking our Great Mother that the demon had brought Arvok back instead of leaving him for dead! You should be thanking her that the arrow did not hit him but the demon instead! And yet here you are, plotting to kill Eywa’s favored!”

At this, Artsut scoffed, “Eywa would not favor a stain on her beautiful creation—”

“As Olo’eyktan I order you to stay away from the de…” He winced, not wanting to sound as venomous as his mother did. “—from the dreamwalker. I will carry out the will of Eywa as I intend to do. As this clan is intended to do. And because of that, she is under my protection now. She has saved my brother—your son.  She has earned this right. You will leave her alone.”

“And what if I don’t?!” Artsut shouted as Tsu’tey turned his back away from her and began stalking back to his hut. “Will you punish your own mother?! Will you kill me?! Tsu’tey? Tsu’tey, answer me! Do not turn your back on me! Tsu’tey—”

Her cries continued to ring in his ears, making him tremble.

He did not feel like a god.

He just felt like a failure.

Failure of a son.

Failure of a mate.

Failure of a leader.

He did not return to his hut.

You were lost. That was fine.

To be honest, you weren’t even focusing enough to go where you wanted. Frankly, you weren’t even sure how to get to your mother’s burial from here. All you did was wander around until you were far enough from the clan, until all you were surrounded by was forest until your legs gave out to the point where you couldn’t walk anymore.

There was a large leaf nearby, big enough for you to duck under it and sink to the ground as it covered your head from the rain. There was still a bit of daylight out, so you had more than enough time to stay there. Because getting back up was going to be difficult.

And you weren’t even sure if you wanted to keep going.

Your mother’s songcord was dangling from your hands now as silent tears spilled down your cheeks. You cried. And cried. And cried. And cried. And cried. Until you were hallowed. Until you weren’t sure if there was anything left of you at this point.

God, you hadn’t cried in so long.

You were dead. Your real body was dead. That wasn’t even your choice either. You had been poisoned, you died, and now you were in a new body.

None of it had been your choice. You didn’t want this. If you had the choice—if it were really up to you—you would’ve let the poison kill you. Anything was better than living in this hell where everything just seemed to be against you.

No matter what you did to make your situation better, something always came along and tackled you back to the ground, pushing you further and further until you began sinking again.

Death could’ve ended all of that.

But even that choice was taken out of your hands.

You could’ve done it now.

You could’ve gone back to Hell’s Gate, grabbed your knife, and…

And—and—and—

For a moment, your mind was quiet as you stared at your mother’s songcord. As you stared at the bone that ended the string.

You were a coward.

Something rustled a few feet away from you. Your body froze and considered the sounds around you. The rustling continued, drawing a little too close for your comfort.

With that, you ducked from under the leaf and moved away from the sounds.

Because even if you somewhat wanted to die, you sure as hell knew it wouldn’t be at the hands of a palulukan.

No. You were just a coward.

Dying took bravery. And you didn’t feel too brave at the moment.

All you could do was stagger forward until you found something to latch onto. To take you away from this until you felt brave enough.

Until then, you kept wandering through the forest. Letting rain pour onto your already wet and somewhat matted hair.

You tugged at one of the locks and hummed to yourself. You should do your hair.

At that, you kept going until eventually you found a waterfall. By then the rain had finally let up, the air was cool, and the smell of rain stayed with you despite the downpour disappearing.

It would’ve been calming if you allowed it to be.

The area itself was beautiful even in this dreary weather. You found a rock just a few feet away from the mainland and jumped onto it. Sitting down with your legs crossed, you leaned over the edge a bit, staring back at your reflection in the water.

Well, you supposed you looked as horrible as you felt. Your hair was one of the main things contributing to that. The braid that Neytiri made was still intact but the rest of your hair was just a wild mess. It was beginning to mat together and form dreads.

So, not particularly happy with the look and wanting a good enough reason to distract your hands and mind, you began doing your hair.

Diving into the waters wasn’t a good idea considering your healing injuries. Instead, you ducked your head into the waters. It was nice. Feeling the cool water against your skin, waking you up slightly. You would’ve stayed like this for a while and you did, considering you could hold your breath for a while.

The tension in your muscles relaxed and right when you were feeling yourself being pulled to sleep, something yanked on your queue, bringing your head out of the water and causing you to fall onto your back.

“Ow!”

“Skxawng!” You looked up only to regret it when you found Tsu’tey scowling down at you.  “What do you think you are doing?!”

You rolled your eyes and tugged your queue out of his grasp, “Obviously I came to drown myself. Congrats, you just saved the inconvenience.” Tsu’tey frowned, looking incredibly serious. You looked up at him and sighed, “I’m kidding. Do you guys not make depressing jokes now and then? Or is that only a human thing?”

He didn’t respond and you weren’t exactly waiting for one. Instead, you turned away from him and began parting your hair. You didn’t have a comb so running your hands through your thick curls was the best you could do for now. The best you could do at this point was take two strands and begin twisting them.

Tsu’tey appeared next to you, looming and watching you do your hair with a huff, “You’re doing that wrong.”

You glared, “I know how to do my own hair thank you.”

He didn’t move and you ignored him as you kept going with your hair. That was until you felt longer fingers wrap around yours and remove it from your hair.

“Hey—”

You felt his hands in your hair. Instantly, you went to yank yourself away from him only to stop when you felt his fingers move. It wasn’t rough or harsh, it was actually rather careful and precise. Any other day you would’ve shoved him away and told him to never touch your hair again but seeing as his braids were pretty neat and concise, you reconsidered.

Hell, maybe you’ve lost it. You were seriously letting Tsu’tey—the man who hated you the most—do your hair.

Maybe when you died you somehow went into a whole other universe. Yeah, that had to be it.

He was mumbling under his breath in Na’vi. You caught some words here and there like “humans” and “useless” a few times. But other than that his voice had been too quiet and quick for you to understand or at least translate some of the things he was saying.

Eventually, his hands disappeared from your hair. “There.” You watched as he stepped away from you to grab a bow from the ground, stretching his fingers, his face turned away from you so that you couldn’t see his expression.

You felt your hair to find some of it braided while the rest would’ve been left to mat together again. You tugged on it thoughtfully, perhaps you could let them turn into locs. It would be easier anyway. A lot more manageable considering you often forget to do your hair these days.

Next to you, Tsu’tey had also grabbed an arrow and approached the edge of the rock, pointing his bow down at a group of fish floating around the rock the both of you were on. You halfheartedly watched as the arrow flew into the water seconds later and hit one of the fish.

Absentmindedly you tugged on another braid as he went into the water to grab the arrow, “The Tsahik is looking for you.” He took the arrow from the water and yanked the fish off the tip. “She says you should not be up right now but resting. She is very upset at your disappearance.”

You didn’t respond. Tsu’tey looked back at you expectantly and you frowned, “So you came looking for me?”

A part of you was half-joking and half-annoyed when asking the question. You just wanted to be alone for a while. And dealing with Tsu’tey was the last thing you wanted right now.

“Yes,” Tsu’tey responded easily as he threw the dead fish to the spot next to you. You cringed away from it as he drew back another arrow. “And by the time I am done here, you will be coming with me to be checked by her.” You glared at the ground. A beat went by. “I will not take no for an answer. Your wounds are still healing—”

“Can we just, can we wait for a while?” You dropped your hands from your hair and into the waters. “I just—I need a place to breathe, okay? Back there, it’s just too suffocating. And I really don’t want to fight today. I’m too tired, so please…”

You didn’t look at him. But you did hear the arrow release and hit the water. Another beat went by. The waters slushed as he moved, “So you came here. For peace.”

It wasn’t a question but more of a statement like he understood it.

And reluctantly, you nodded in response.

For a while, you were quiet. Both of you. Tsu’tey grabbed the arrow and tossed the fish onto the rock. The water filled the silence, bringing you a sense of comfort in this long silence. You didn’t feel obligated to speak and Tsu’tey didn’t bother to conversate either. A big difference between him and Jake who would probably be talking your ear off with stupid jokes and infuriating jabs.

Not that it wouldn’t help a bit.

But right now, all you felt was exhaustion. Even Tsu’tey allowed himself to appear somewhat tired, at least from what you saw whenever his face was turned in your direction.

 “I thank you.”

You looked at him then, his back was still turned to you as he continued, “For saving my brother. Arvok. The arrow, he could have died if you hadn’t taken it for him. You—”

“Anyone would’ve done it.” You shrugged off, not wanting this type of attention. Especially not from him. What you did may have been somewhat heroic but you sure as hell didn’t feel that way. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“But I will.” Tsu’tey drew his arrow back again. The arrow flew again and hit another fish. “Even when I treated you horribly. You still saved him.”

You frowned and shook your head. His thanks for some reason made you feel worse. You didn’t know why but you wanted it to stop. “Like I said, anyone would’ve done it if they were in my position.”

“Hmph.” Tsu’tey tossed the third fish onto the rock and jumped back onto the rock with you. He grabbed the three fishes by the tail and nodded toward the forest, “Come, we should head back—”

“No.”

You heard him sigh, “Dreamwalker—”

“I can’t go back right now.” You blurted out, your hands clenching into fists as you glared down at your reflection. “I just can’t, okay? I can’t go back and face the pitiful looks Norm will send me. I can’t go back to Neytiri telling me that Eywa saved me or gave some fucking second chance that I had no say in. I can’t go back to hear Jake apologize over and over and over again until I go fucking crazy! I just can’t!”

You buried your face into your hands, not wanting to look at him, not wanting to face the world. All you felt, all you wanted to do was just crawl into a hole and hope that everyone left you alone. You hoped that you could lie down and become stone. You hoped you could become the tragedy that was amid the beautiful Pandora.

You hoped—You hoped—You hoped—

Something within your body told you that you were crying but no tears came.

Half alive and half buried.

Until they bled.

Something heavy landed on top of your head. It took you a moment for you to realize it was a hand—Tsu’tey’s hand. You dropped your hands from your face and frowned, reluctantly looking up at him to find him staring back at you.

God, these people were straightforward when it came to expressing themselves. Even Tsu’tey, who you considered the hardest to read out of the three.

“It is sad.” Tsu’tey squatted down next to you, his hand gently ruffling your hair. Your ears twitched, “I am sorry.”

You were taken aback, to say the least. Never in a million years could you imagine Tsu’tey out of all people, comforting you. Frankly, you never thought he felt anything toward you to enact such a strange reaction from him. And yet you didn’t move. Too afraid that if you flinched then he would take his hand away.

A part of you felt awful that he had to do this. And a part of you…

“You don’t have to do this.” You mumbled.

He huffed, “I do what I want. And I choose to be here. You saved my brother.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to comfort me.” This unyielding guilt was overwhelming, You almost wanted to shove his hand away. “I feel like I’m using you.”

“Then use me.”

You shook your head again, his hand remained firm, “You’re impossible—as usual.”

“Hmph.”

The both of you stayed like this for a while longer. It was getting dark. Creatures would start coming out soon. Perhaps you should stop being so stubborn and move already.

Tsu’tey didn’t say anything though. He was rather still and quiet. You looked over, for a moment wondering if he was asleep.

Only you found his yellow gaze staring at something intensely. Frowning, you followed his gaze.

Floating toward the both of you was an atokirina. Huh, you hadn’t seen one of these in a while. And even now they were still as pretty as you remembered them. Last time there were multiple, but this time it was one.

You stood and Tsu’tey followed seconds after.

Even for this, you remained still. As if moving would somehow scare it off. Tsu’tey must’ve had the same thought, standing as still as a statue next to you as the atokirina floated over your heads. The pure creature hovered over Tsu’tey’s forehead for a bit until it came over to you, tickling your nose.

Tsu’tey watched you and the atokirina in astonishment. It floated between the two of you for a moment before finally floating away.

You watched it in for a moment longer before your arm began to throb. Tsu’tey noticed you rolling your arm back uncomfortably and finally snapped out of his trance, “Is your arm bothering you?”

“A little.” You admitted reluctantly.

With a nod, he grabbed the fish and then the bow as he gestured toward the forest, “Come. We should return now. Mo’at is waiting.”

This time you did not protest. You glanced back toward the direction the atokirina disappeared before finally following after Tsu’tey.

When you got to Mo’at’s hut, she was already scowling at you. And surprisingly it was rather scary. So much so, that you unconsciously shrunk behind Tsu’tey so you wouldn’t feel any of her wrath. Jake and Neytiri were there as well, for what you did not know, but they appeared to have been waiting for yours and Tsu’tey’s return.

“Well, now we know you are well enough to foolishly run off.” Mo’at huffed as she pointed toward the spot on the floor. “Sit.”

Without waiting for you to respond, Mo’at dragged you to the spot and sat you down on the floor. Tsu’tey remained near the entrance and watched you silently. He hadn’t said anything ever since you started your walk back to their base. You wondered if he was at all bothered about seeing the atokirina. Or if it was on his mind at all.

While Mo’at wiped the dried mush from your arm, Neytiri squatted down next to you, “How are you feeling?”

“I died.” You said dryly. “Other than that, I’m swell.”

Jake sighed from his spot closest to Tsu’tey and the entrance, “Well, her snark’s intact. You sure she’s not back to normal?” You rolled your eyes, Neytiri rubbed your back while glaring at Jake.

“We saw an atokirina,” Tsu’tey spoke for the first time since you left the waterfall. “It came to the demon and I…” He said the rest of his explanation in Na’vi. You frowned, looking at Jake and Neytiri to gauge what exactly he was saying. You watched Neytiri’s ears twitch as her eyes brightened. Then there was Jake who looked completely serious, tail swinging behind him. Mo’at gave nothing away as she added more mush to your arm. You held back a scoff, irritated that you were the only one who couldn’t understand a single word.

“Another sign from Eywa,” Mo’at spoke in English. She looked at you almost knowingly as she continued. “This dreamwalker is here for a reason. Maybe for the same reason, Jakesully had come to us. Or something completely different. Perhaps this is her way of choosing a fourth for you.”

Neytiri perked up instantly, her hand squeezing your good shoulder gently. Jake’s head was bowed, hiding his expression. And Tsu’tey just frowned. And you felt your entire face grow hot. Suddenly you were rather aware of everything around you. If you had been standing, you would’ve fainted.

“Or maybe it’s something else?” You offered, trying to move the conversation forward instead of enduring this awkward and uncomfortable silence.

Mo’at watched all four of your expressions and huffed, “Come. We will just ask the Great Mother ourselves—”

“No, we don’t have to.” Jake stood straighter, tail lashing behind him.

Neytiri stood and sent him a look, “Ma’ Jake—”

But he shook his head, “I’m not doing it. I’m not taking her as a mate. That’s not fair and you know it—”

“And if it is in Eywa’s will?” Mo’at challenged, raising an invisible brow. “What then, Jakesully?”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” You added, already growing irritated by this conversation.

“Yeah, you’re right. You do have a say in this. But I’m gonna make this easy for you.” Jake nodded steely. “We’re fine as three. There is no room for another—especially her.”

“Fuck you!” You snapped, shooting to your feet. “Who the hell do you think you are—”

“Hey, I’m on your side here!” Jake argued. You failed to see the surprised reaction from your outburst, you failed to see the way he raised his hand as if easing you like you were a dangerous animal about to pounce—no you saw that actually. And it only pissed you off even more. “Do you want me to lie and welcome you into my family with open arms just like that? Or do you want the honest truth, Reeds? You value that, right?”

You let out a humorless laugh, skin boiling in anger now, “You really are full of shit, you know that, Sully? So you think it’s okay to just discard me then? As if I don’t have any fucking feelings? Am I just an emotionless body to you, Jake? Am I not supposed to be offended? ‘Especially her’? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“That’s enough—” Neytiri started only to be stopped by Mo’at who watched the two of you keenly. Even Tsu’tey didn’t even speak up. He didn’t snap at you nor did he stop Jake. He just watched on in grim silence that neither you nor Jake bothered to notice.

“I’m doing this for you—I’m not sayin’ this just to be an asshole, Reeds!”

“Could’ve fooled me.” You snickered mockingly. Honestly, you had no idea why you were so angry. You were just tired. Tired of him. Tired of this. Tired of all this bullshit. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, Sully, you’re not exactly prize material either, so there. Why don’t you just say that instead of hiding it behind some horse shit—”

“Jesus Christ.” He muttered in disbelief. Jake looked to the sky, struggling to respond. Struggling to string the words together.

But it shouldn’t have been that hard. “You’re right, I do value truth, Sully. So be fucking honest and just spit it out. Enough of the trying to protect me bullshit—I’ve heard enough of it and I don’t need any more of it. Say what you want, don’t hide now. It’s easy when it comes to me, right?”

You were just angry. So, so angry. You weren’t even sure if this anger deserved to be directed at him. If this anger was even about this conversation. You weren’t even sure why you were fighting so fiercely.

Jake scoffed, “And you think you make being around you easy? You don’t think maybe there’s a reason I blow up at you? You don’t think maybe it’s because you can be a huge asshole sometimes?”

“Oh yeah, this mate shit is going to work out perfectly.” You snorted.

“I can’t mate with someone I don’t love,” Jake spoke more bluntly toward Mo’at, Neytiri, and Tsu’tey. “I don’t know how much more honest I have to be about this. I can’t love someone like her. How can I? Not even a fucking miracle could ever get me to, and that’s the truth. You happy now? Is that what you want to hear?”

The tent was silent by then. Neytiri, in the corner of your eye, had her tail lashing behind her. Tsu’tey, who stood further back behind Jake held an unreadable expression instead of his usual severity but offered nothing. Mo’at just waited with her keen eyes on all four of you. She then sighed and shook her head, mumbling something in Na’vi.

You wished you weren’t so affected by his words. “Fine. Don’t love me, Jake.” You wished your heart didn’t sink to the pits of your stomach. You wished your heart wouldn’t take this much hut. You didn’t even want him. You didn’t even want a mate.

But you were unknowable. Unlovable.

You’ve always known this. So it shouldn’t have hurt so much for someone to tell you this straight to your face.

“Earn that shit.” You muttered, schooling your face into your usual impassive mask despite your achy eyes. Now you looked to Mo’at who was watching you in particular, “Is that all, Tsahik?”

You failed to see Jake’s shoulders fall and his ears lower, “Reeds—”

Mo’at spoke over him, “I want you back here in two days. Your wound is not fully healed yet.” She then looked at Tsu’tey, her eyes seeming to want something from him, “Is there a problem with that, Olo’eyktan?”

At this, Tsu’tey shook his head stiffly, “No. You are Tsahik. You must continue your work.”

“Mmph.” Mo’at huffed in what appeared to be disappointment. “Then you may leave, dreamwalker.”

You nodded and stalked toward the entrance. Neytiri tried reaching for you but you had been too quick for her grasp to catch, “Ma ‘tanhi…”

Jake avoided your gaze as you passed him, “I’ll see you later, Neytiri.” You stepped out of the hut, not bothering to look back.

After jumping down a few branches and landing on the ground, you found that two warriors were waiting for you on pa’li. One of the warriors guided a pa’li toward you, which you got on without much difficulty.

And without looking back, the pa’li began to move. You were cold. And tired.

Half alive and half buried in the ground.

“I will make sure my warriors return her safely to the human base,” Tsu’tey spoke stiffly as he ducked out of the hut. Jake watched him go, uneasy about what his mate could’ve been thinking at the moment. It was the most difficult when Tsu’tey was like this. He was hard to read and wouldn’t let up until he confessed to what he was feeling. So, all Jake had to do was wait until then.

But right now, he did know one thing.

Fuck.

He’d gone too far.

Neytiri had watched you go just a few feet from the entrance of the hut and by the time you were long gone she stalked back inside. Jake flinched when her glare stabbed him through his thin skin when it came to her fury, “Why did you do that? Why were you so cruel? Why are you trying to push her away?”

His ears flattened again, “Tiyawn—”

“No!” She shook her head and backed away from his reach. “You humans and hiding your true feelings. I know you, Jake. I know what you said wasn’t true and yet you chose to hurt her anyway. Why? Why do this?”

Jake frowned, his body tensing, “How do you know this isn’t how I feel—”

“Baah!” Neytiri hissed, smacking his shoulder. “Even if what you said was true, you did not need to be cruel! You do not need to hurt her! Do you even care?!”

“Of course I do!” Jake argued. He wasn’t heartless. Of course, he saw how his words affected—continued to affect you.

God, why did you always react that way when it was him? Why did his heart always feel heavy whenever it came to yelling at you these days? You weren’t like this with Tsu’tey, you always fired back. Why was it different with him? “What I said was true. I am doing this for her! I’m trying to protect her—”

“From what?” Neytiri hissed as if the words he was saying were false. “No more excuses, Ma’ Jake, what is it that you are so afraid of?!”

How did she do it? How did she fiercely protect you like this without a care in the world? How did she fiercely care about you without being frightened of the consequences? “You weren’t there when Artsut threatened her life.” At this Neytiri faltered, her ears lowering slightly but Jake continued before she could interrupt her again, “She’s already being pulled into this mess with the clans. What happens if Artsut, a woman with great influence within this clan, comes for her? What happens when we take another human mate that she doesn’t approve of? What then? It’ll be our fault that Reeds becomes ruined. It’ll be our fault for not being careful—”

“That is not for us to decide,” Neytiri told him bluntly but her face softened—only a bit. “Your heart comes from a good place but your words are misguided.” She gingerly grew closer to him until her hand could reach the curve of his cheek as she gently caressed it. “Make this right. Enough of this fighting. Can’t you see she’s tired?”

Mo’at, who had been crushing some herbs in a bowl, did not refute her daughter’s wise words.

Jake was outnumbered. But he was also tired too.

You came back to Hell’s Gate to find a white sheet over your former body, right in the middle of a nearly empty room.

Cry. Just cry. Cry.

Instead, you stayed in that silent room. You did not look away from the body.

Half alive and half buried in the ground.

All you needed was a tombstone.

boom! chapter 9! this one chapter i was definitely nervous to write because we see jake and reeds at, in my opinion, their worst in their slowly developing relationship and a peek at the beginning of tsu'tey and reeds' future relationship.

hope you enjoyed it! chapter 10 should be coming soon!

(i'm not adding any more people anymore!)

taglist: @doggyteam2028 @bigbootahjudy @innercreationflower @n7cje @celi-xxmoon @readerofallthingss @sillyblues @saturnhas82moons @1mawh0re @aprosiacperson @loserwithnofriends @garfieldsladybird @slutforsmut4ever @lik0

[danveration]

I have a Alastor × fem!reader request. Imma be real with you, I own an Alastor stuffie and for the longest time I wondered, 'What if it morphed into the actual Alastor while I cuddled it?". I know, odd but I think it could possibly be a cute idea? (in the verse Hazbin is still a show, this fic takes place irl)

OH MT GOSH I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCHHH!!! i’ve got to get me an Alastor stuffie too.. If only this would happen irl 💔❤️❤️ i hope this is what you wanted/had in mind :’)

Parings: Alastor x fem!reader

Summary: You have a Alastor stuffie and you cuddle it. And it…. turns into the real Alastor?!?!

You have a favourite character from the show Hazbin Hotel, by favourite, you mean FAVOURITE. His name is Alastor, the radio demon. You’ve had a stuffie of him for the longest time, it’s always brought you comfort and it felt good to have a sort of physical version of him. Plus, it’s so cute:)

You’re currently sitting in bed, when you grab your Alastor stuffed animal and hug it. Shockingly, you feel it sort of vibrating. You look down at it and see that there’s shadowy smoke coming from it. You gasp and let go of it.

You’re wondering what on earth is going on, when something that you would’ve NEVER thought to happen, it morphed into THE Alastor from the show.

You think you’re dreaming so you do what everyone does, pinch yourself.

“Shit.” You mumble. Definitely not sleeping, that hurt like a bitch.

You look to your side and you see him laying there, looking confused, but smiling.

He looks around and his eyes land on you.

You’re sitting there in shock, unable to say anything.

Alastor hasn’t ever had this happen to him before, where he unwillingly got teleported. He usually just teleports using his shadow magic. He’s very puzzled on what happened.

As he looks to see you, you’re most obviously alive, and human. He doesn’t know anyone in hell that looks like you, and he knows almost everyone. Is he.. back on earth?

You two are just staring at each other in equal confusion.

He looks over you and sees a “Hazbin Hotel” poster on the wall and raises his brow in confusion even more.

“Who might you be?” He asks.

Your brain is short-circuiting but you manage to stumble out you name. “I-I’m Y/n.”

“I see.. now do you have any idea what I’m doing here?” He asks you.

“No, I don’t.” You shake your head. “I was just cuddling my stuffie of y-“ You stop yourself and refrain from telling him exactly who the stuffie was resembling.

“..Of something. And you just.. appeared!” You say.

“Hm. Now that’s quite the mystery then, isn’t it?” He says. “Well, it’s lovely to meet you then, Y/n. Though the circumstances are quite outlandish. The name is-“

“Alastor.” You whisper out, still in a state of:“wowmyfavoritecharacterfromatvshowjustappearedinmybed.”

Alastor tilts his head and says with confusion in his voice, “Precisely..”

He moves to get up off your bed and stand up, looking around your room. He notices a picture of him on your dresser and he looks back at you with a raised brow.

“Um.. I can explain-“ You start. “You’re not.. real. Well, you’re real because you’re here right now but- You.. You’re not real in this world. Um.. You-“ You ramble on and he stops you.

“I understand.” He says with a smile.

“You.. understand?”

“Ah, yes! I am the radio demon after all. I must be aware that other universes exist. It seems something happened and I was quite literally spawned here.” He explains. “Usually I’ve only heard this happening if it was a vessel of the person, like.. let’s say.. a statue. But it seems there’s no statue of myself in this room?” He laughs.

This makes some sense now. The stuffie must apply to these rules.

“Oh um. I think I know what happened..” You say.

He stares at you, eyes narrowing. “Well?”

“So um.. I have a stuffied animal of you.” You say in a low tone, your cheeks reddening.

“What was that, dear?” He asks.

“I have a stuffie of you..” You say.

“A..” He starts. “A stuffie? Of me? Now why would you have that?” He laughs.

“I.. for comfort?” You answer, hoping he isn’t too weirded out.

“Comfort? Well that’s a delightful!” He says in amused tone.

“Yeah um.. you’re basically a fictional character in this world.” You say.

“A fictional character?” He asks.

“Mhm.” You answer.

“I see..” He looks as if he’s trying to piece together everything. “Well, my dear! I’m not quite sure on what exactly is going on. But I assume it’s only momentary. Maybe a glitch in the system or something.” He laughs.

“Y-you..” It’s finally setting in that Alastor is in your room.

“I?” He asks with a smile.

“I LOVE YOU.” You blurt out suddenly without thinking.

Alastor jumps a bit at that and steps backwards, his eyes wide.

“S-sorry. I just.. I cant believe you’re here.” You say. “How did this even… THE Alastor is in my room.. He.. Oh my god..” You mumble on to yourself.

Alastor is a clever man, he knows that you must be a “fan” of his. He notices that he obviously doesn’t exist in your world. Though he finds your reaction quite adorable. Especially that you have a stuffie of him? You’re idolizing him? Out of all people? He’s charmed.

“Dear.. You alright there?” He asks you.

You look back up at him and smile.

“Very very alright, yes.” You answer.

———————————————————————

Suddenly, you bolt awake. It was just a dream..?

You sigh and shift on your side, still holding your Alastor stuffie. If only dreams were real.

As you fall asleep, you don’t notice but the stuffie begins to vibrate…

[365granitegirlx]

⋆˚₊ show me what you are ⋆˚₊

enemies with benefits vessel x f!reader

summary: you despise your friend of a friend vessel, and he despises you. but you quickly learn you have more in common that you ever thought.

7.4k words

tags, head's up, etc: SMUT, soft sub!vessel, soft domme!reader, lots of antagonizing one another, enemies to lovers, established enemies, casual arrangement, making out, idiots in lust, sexting, masturbation (m + f), praise, dirty talk, pet names (puppy, mommy), cockwarming, cowgirl, pronebone, squirting

a/n: I'm nervous about this one. I've been working on this before I started feeling depressed and I just want it out on the world. Also, in the (paraphrased) words of @rat-that-writes "he could never hate me. I'm too hot."

You’re minding your business at a cafe when he comes in. You lock eyes like you normally do when you happen upon each other. Blank, dead eyes. Face so flat it’s not even a scowl. Sighs. Vessel. A friend of a friend of a roommate of a friend. And a thorn in your side. Ok yes he’s very smart…and witty…and talented…but it doesn’t make him any less arrogant and annoying to be around. You two run in the same circles but that doesn’t mean you hang out. You just exist, for better or for worse, in the same space. No one could understand why you and him didn’t get along. You two weren’t so similar that it was grating, but you also weren’t so different that you were unable to find common ground. But there was something in the way of you two connecting. Of feeling anything other than hate. 

You look back down at your book until you hear the chair across from you scrap across the floor and someone slump into it. 

“I need you.”

You take a deep breath and pinch the bridge of your nose. You look up at Vessel and notice he’s staring at you expectantly. 

“Say something,” he says somewhere between a plea and a demand. 

“What are you talking about…you ‘need’ me?”

He looks down. “Uhm, well, you see…”

“Ves…spit it out.” You’re trying to keep your voice down as more people come into the cafe. Why couldn’t you have had this conversation at the party you both attended the night before? 

“I…fuck. I have…needs and…”

“Oh Jesus Christ.” You roll your eyes and crack your neck. “It’s 10 am…”

“No, let me…finish. God. I…have needs and I don’t really…want to look far. To get them met. Do you understand? Uhm…I..”

Is he asking for…?

“Use your words.”

He doubles back a little and licks his lips. Why do his eyes look watery? “Yeah. Yeah I'll use my words. Uhm. I was wondering if you’d be interested in exploring something sort of…loose with me. No strings.”

You laugh out loud from shock. “Is this a sick joke?”

Oh his little heart breaks when you laugh. You can see it. His sweet face drops. “No…no oh my god. I would never joke about this. Look. Hear me out. I…hun I am desperate. I need to just…” he puts his hand to his forehead… “I need the companionship…and the release…but I don’t have it in me to look for a relationship. Not right now and perhaps never.”

This is the first time you’ve seen him vulnerable and quite frankly you could get used to it. There was something about his voice that was different. Calm. Normal. Sincere. But you still feel that pull towards aggression. Instigation. “And someone you actively despise and harrass is your top pick for a fuck buddy?”

“I know we argue a lot!” he barks back. You shift uncomfortably as a couple at a nearby table glare at you both. Vessel clears his throat and lowers his voice. “We don’t get along. And what I’m asking for is a bit much…maybe we just…pretend for a bit? Every once in a while?” He gulps and shakes his head. “I’m genuinely pathetic, I’m…I’m so sorry. I’m being a fucking knob.”

You cross your arms and consider what he’s saying. “So you’re asking to have some kind of…situationship with me…without ever trying to be nice to me first?”

He wipes his hand down his face and groans. “I…fuck it. Yeah I am. I am here groveling and asking you to sleep with me every so often so that maybe I don’t do my own head in. And, also, I just thought maybe…since you’re…pent up and shitty like me. Maybe you’d like to have some fun every once in a while? It would be mutually beneficial. Our mouths would be busy, eyes closed. Maybe we wouldn’t even know it was the other.”

You scoff. “What is that supposed to mean? Pent up…” you straighten in your seat. But you knew exactly what he meant. You were high strung a lot, and Vessel made an excellent target for your frustrations. How could two shit stirrers find any kind of solace with each other? But…you didn’t have any other prospects banging down the door (or you). You put your hands up in surrender. “Ok. Ok. I’ll bite. Yeah…fun would be nice…”

“Right…yeah, yeah. Because I get the impression it’s been a minute for you and…”

“Dude, come on!” You interrupt. 

“Look,” he shakes his head and looks away, “you’re a nice girl when you want to be. And maybe if this arrangement is with you…someone I don’t really see often or whatever…” he finally looks you in the eyes.

~

That next Friday you’re in his flat for the first time. You sit on the couch awkwardly as he brings you some water and plops beside you. Ves bites the inside of his cheek. No one has really made any moves but first times are always awkward right? No matter what was going to happen tonight, it would be a first of some sort. The first time you’re nice to each other. The first time you really touch each other. “You look pretty.” He says sheepishly. 

You look down at your baggy band tee and short yoga shorts. “Don’t lie to me.”

“My god just take the compliment. We’re here just trying to have a good time and…”

“Ok ok. Thank you…Ves…that’s sweet of you to say.”

He turns a bit more towards you, searching your face. His eyes trace your body head to toe as he tries to stifle a small smile. This was his idea and yet he still doesn’t want to show you how much he likes looking at you. Being around your pretty self. You suddenly start to feel nervous as he scoots closer to you. He curls his long legs up underneath him and gently touches your arm. You study his fingers like they’re some harmless little bugs before bringing your gaze back up to his face. He’s not ugly. No. You just never think about his looks because he’s so annoying to you. But here you both are, looking at each other in quiet fascination. Your breath hitches.

“Why me, Ves?”

“Why not you?” Vessel rolls his eyes and moves a little closer and puts his hand out tentatively near your thigh. You gulp, pulling his hand to rest on your smooth skin. His hand rubs gentle strokes against you and his breath deepens. “You feel so good. God.”

“Yeah?”

He bites his lip and looks at you so dreamily. You chuckle. The world stops for what feels like the hundredth time since you’ve gotten here. You feel your head spin a little as he looks at you with what you want to call “desire,” but how could you two ever feel anything other than disdain? Vessel clears his throat slightly. “You can back out…before everything changes…”

“Everything’s changed already, Ves.”

His hand moves up your thigh and squeezes, kneading your soft flesh. He hums contently when you move closer, nearly on his lap. You were wrong when you said everything had already changed. It actually changed the moment you two instinctively moved closer. Not a kiss, but a hug. At first it was tense. Like siblings being told to hug it out. But soon the awkwardness wasn’t the most distracting thing. It was how he felt to you. Sure he was lanky and toned, but he had a softness. A gentleness in how his arms pulled you close and enveloped you. It made you feel like the tiniest thing. And you could tell he enjoyed it and wanted to relax. As he loosened up, he held you closer. He breathed you in. You swear you could fall asleep until he drags cheek and nose up your neck…it reminded you of an animal scenting something. Or maybe he wanted your essence on him. He starts to speak in a barely there whisper and then clears his throat.

“May I, please, start kissing you?”

You gulp. The hug alone aroused you, and the thought of kissing him made you feel completely brainless. “Yeah,” you whisper thickly. 

Vessel places small, gentle kisses in the crook of your neck, taking his time and breathing deeply between each peck. His lips are naturally pouty and feel so soft on your skin. He lets his lower lip drag up to your jaw before placing a delicate kiss right by your earlobe. You would say you don’t know what to do with your hands but they move on instinct. One gently squeezes his waist as the other traces lazy patterns on the back of his neck. 

“I love how your nails feel on me,” he whispers. He sounds like a different person. He’s actually lost in you…and you would know because you’re lost in him. You let your hand drift up to his hairline where you begin to scratch his scalp. His head falls back; his eyes closed and lips slightly parted. You chuckle softly and move both hands to his hair. Eventually you’re in his lap but you’re hesitantly to really relax. “I’ve got you. Have a seat, love.”

You start to feel nervous and the nasty voice in your head that says you’re not worthy and perfect for this kind of situation gets louder. “Is it because I’m easy? Do you think I’m easy?” You blurt out. So many times you’ve been taken advantage of and it wouldn’t even surprise you if this was one of those times where you were in the right place and desperate. 

Vessel’s eyes open, and he looks at you completely lost. He leans forward and helps you cross your legs around his waist. “You… darling…are one of the most difficult people I’ve ever encountered. It must really mean something if you’re here…in my flat…nestled on my lap. And I’m grateful. Thank you.” He begins kissing your neck again but with more fervor this time. More need. Your back arches as his kisses become wetter and his hands knead your plush thighs and ass. It’s no use. You give in to instinct and gently move his face to yours but you both stop. Your noses touch but the realization starts to set in. As quickly as you came together, you’re pulling apart.

“This isn’t the move, is it?” You ask, getting off his lap and smoothing your hair back.

Vessel inhales and rubs his face, groaning. “No. It was a mistake. Besides, you gave me that look.”

“What look?!”

“Oh don’t play dumb. You know the look. The one where you watch me flounder when you could help me.”

You scoff and stand up. “Wow you’re catching on. That’s how I always look at you.” You start to walk towards the door when you turn back to him. He hasn’t left his seat on the couch and doesn’t seem to care to do so. You’re not quite sure what you’re feeling. Arousal, but also annoyance at how quickly the mood changed. Certainly it was Vessel that ruined it, right? You feel that familiar stirring. To project. To rile him up and tear him down. 

He stares back at you. “You’re as pathetic as me. Don’t forget that. You wanted this too. You probably still do.”

Him being both right and cruel about it ignites a white hot rage inside you. You want to scream at him

ask what you did to deserve this from him. To ask him why he makes himself so easy to hate. But instead, you leave. 

...

A week later you’ve kept your weird interaction with Vessel in the back of your head but until then, you couldn’t give two dicks. It was the weekend. And it wasn’t like you to be at a bar like this. Metalheads. The hottest, tiniest goth girlfriends you’d ever seen. You felt out of place but your friends said “noooo we should go! It’s something different to do.” So you put on little black dress and Dr Martens and said “fuck it.” And you were glad you did because a new environment also meant new guys…and to your surprise you actually got some positive attention. 

You found yourself chatting with a guy at the bar as you waited for your drink. He was friendly and handsome enough; you had the ugly thought that maybe he was one of those metalheads who had never actually spoken to a girl, but that was quickly forgotten when you started a thoughtful conversation about a series you both like. And it wasn’t one of those conversations where a nerdy guy dominates and info dumps and corrects you like a jackass. It’s just…enjoyable. He finally starts warming up to you a little and lets his hand graze yours, laughing at your reaction when a sludgier song comes on. You bite your lip and giggle a little, flirting with him saying, “maybe I need someone to help me appreciate metal a little more.” Your hands briefly touch again, and he leans a little closer…letting his free hand lightly touch your waist. You play coy and back up a little. It looks like he’s about to get his phone out before his eyes trail up and behind you. You’re wondering what he’s looking at until you feel a looming presence and a wide hand rub against your back and shoulder.

“There you are, gorgeous. I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

Your jaw clenches into a tight, fake smile. That accent. You look up at your uninvited guest.

“Hello, Ves. I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.”

The cute guy you were talking to looks confused and maybe a little sad. Fuck! You facepalm and groan as Vessel waves to him nonchalantly. “Heya…alright, mate?” His voice is dripping in sarcasm. 

Your brain scrambles. “He just means I’d been up here for so long I forgot about the friend group” you say trying to save face. “Not just him. Definitely not.” Vessel squeezes your hip in feigned affection which makes the guy tsk, roll his eyes, and walk away. “Wait, I’m serious,” but he’s already gone. You scoff, ready to pummel Vessel who was easily a head taller than you and more than capable of overpowering you if you tried. You actually liked that guy and thought something was there.

“What the fuck was that?” You ask, eyes shooting daggers into Ves. 

He snorts and shrugs. This is no big deal to him. “That guy was a loser.”

“So?! What do you care?”

“Oh come now, babes. You would have annoyed that bastard to death…he could have never kept up with you.” That shit eating grin. God you could just slap it right off of him. You know that he would leave you alone if you just…didn’t respond. Ignored him. But something kept telling you to egg him on. To react.

“You’re such a dick,” you say, rolling your eyes and walking away. You make it halfway across the bar when he grabs your arm. 

“HEY! I came over to talk to you. Don’t walk away from me.”

“Wow, and how inviting you seem right now! Sabotaging my night and grabbing me. Is this the only way you can get girls near you?”

His brows knit together and he stands closer to you…so much so you’re looking straight up. “Sabotage? Did you like him that much? If you really, really wanted to go home with him tonight then why are you here with me? Also…” he leans down to whisper, “I didn’t have to do much pulling and prodding to get to you mine last week.”

“What the fuck do you want” you sneer. But you find yourself wanting to stay put. The warmth radiating from his tall form. His cologne. The intensity of his gaze. Your attempt at a makeout session last week suddenly replayed in your head very loudly. You snap back to reality when Vessel huffs with a terse laugh and looks away. 

“I hate to say it but…I wanted to ask you something. Ask you…for something…again.” You search his face for understanding. He can’t even look you in the eye but you can tell he’s humiliated. Tail-between-the-legs humiliated. Little-boy-caught-by-mommy humiliated. The pause is heavy. The ambient noise in the bar fades away when he looks at you. He tries to find words but they aren’t coming. “Fuck. Never…never mind, it's stupid. Have a nice night” He lets go of your arm and storms away. 

You’re left there with your jaw on the floor. Usually this tall arrogant nerd wouldn’t shut up giving you a hard time. Now he’s running away. Without thinking, you follow him outside the bar and call out. 

“Ves, what the hell was that?” You hate to say it but you actually feel concerned. Like you have to finally put down your senseless grudge and actually talk to him. “Are you ok?” 

He looks out down the street. It’s a busy Friday night. Folks bar hopping, getting Ubers, whatever people who like each other do downtown, but it feels like it’s just you two. Your eyes bore into him, and he finally looks down at you. Blankly, but at least he’s looking at you. “I know how we can make the…‘situation’ work. 

“Oh? Other than bothering someone else?”

“Do you know what? This is your problem. You’re mouthy and always antagonizing to try to keep some hold over me…and I want all of it. I need you to keep being that way with me. Please.” His voice has dropped to a gravely murmur as his hands shake in clenched fists at his side. 

You two stare at each other for a moment too long. It’s uncomfortably intimate. You’re having a conversation without speaking and it eats at you. You should not want this. Not again. Not him. “What do you mean?”

He fidgets. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Are you kidding? You’re really going to stand here and ask me for something again without defining any terms? Without playing your part in whatever this sick little thing is?”

“If it’s so sick then why are you blushing? You blushed like that when I kissed your neck in my flat. You’re like me. Come on.”

You cock an eyebrow, realizing slowly what he means. “You like this…don’t you? Being put in your place?”

“You haven’t actually done it yet, but…if you did…we’d all feel better. Even if for a brief moment. An hour. An evening. Just…please,” he takes on that same pleading…groveling tone again. He means it. “I can’t…for lack of a better word and I know it’s stupid but…I can’t ‘show up’ and turn my brain off if we’re…equals or something.. So please…where do I belong? Tell me.”

The idea that this…dummy who antagonizes you wants to submit to you breaks your brain. But wait. 

“How did you even know to ask me about this, hm? Did you ask around…maybe even try to snoop on my socials?” Your voice isn’t harsh, but it isn’t gentle. Strict. Probing. 

The way he looks down and rubs the back of his neck, which suddenly looks biteable, is adorable. He gulps. “I uhm…I’m sorry…but I..”

You bite your lip and chuckle as he shifts from one foot to another. A couple walks past and gives you both a once over, which makes you stand closer to him. If he wants to feel claimed, you can try. Being in his personal space where everyone can see.

“I uhm…I heard you talking not too long ago…about…” he lowers his voice “about subby guys and…well..”

“Wooooow….so… been eavesdropping, eh, bub?”

He opens his mouth and only a little whimper comes out. “I’m so sorry.” He keeps looking down, but you reach up and guide his chin so he looks at you. 

“What a resourceful boy…” you say in a sticky sweet voice. “You were just dying to find something out to the point that you decided to sneak around? Was it fun? Little puppy sniffing around for clues…hm?”

Oh the blush that covers his face. The way his eyes sparkle. You know exactly when he overheard you wax poetic about submissive men to your friends at that party…because you knew he was there. You wanted him to hear…because you had your suspicions too. “Answer my question. Dig up your bones for me…did you have fun with your little secret mission?” 

He breaths shakily and bites his lip. Finally he nods…and gives you a big cheeky grin. “Yes ma’am.”

“Eh don’t call me ‘ma’am.’ Makes me sound old.”

“Oh sorry sorry uhhh I don’t mean to…”

“Ves…my goodness…it’s ok. You didn’t know.” You chuckle softly and feel like you’re looking at him for the first time. “Don’t be hard on yourself. And that’s my first order for you.” 

His back straightens a little and his pouty lips curl into a shy smile. “I can do that.”

“Good boy.” You can see his pupils dilate…his breath catch…his heart swell. Oh to be your good boy even though you despise him. 

Something inside you has snapped. Suddenly this insane “mutually beneficial” arrangement excites you. Having casual sex with someone you don’t like in the name of “some fun” was ok, but seeing now that he was naturally submissive made your head spin. This you could work with. 

“I will take a crumb. Honestly. Anything you’ll give me…even if this is the last time we talk about it and it falls through again…”

You put your hand up to stop him. “Stop that.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He winces when the word leaves his mouth. 

You smirk and brush his hair back a bit. Your nails lightly scratching his forehead. He wants to purr. To roll his eyes back and feel your nails all over him. 

“Look at you,” you whisper, letting your nails trail over his cheek. “Such a big baby. Aren’t you?”

“Let me take you home…please. Please…”

“No. Hmm. No, I don't think so. Not tonight.” 

He pouts a little bit but nods. “Yeah…yeah ok.”

“Mhm…be patient for me. Can you do that?”

He nods and bites his lip. You can tell he’s excited. “When we’re not like…playing or whatever…you don’t have to treat me any differently. It can be our secret. As we were, yeah?”

You take your time with this. You two rarely see each other as it is and like hell you’d mess with him in front of others. So things develop over texting and the occasional late night phone call…but usually texting. Talking on the phone leads to tone policing. Arguments. It’s best to just keep things borderline anonymous. 

Ves: are you too busy for me?

It was 10 pm. You were drinking wine in your underwear watching Scream. Technically, yes, you were busy. But you knew why he was texting and maybe it would be fun to indulge. 

You: I guess not. What do you need?

The response is instant. He was waiting for you.

Ves: nothing really. 

Ves: just wondering about you 

You: what about me?

Ves: what you’re doing. what you’re wearing. if I’ll ever actually get to be your good boy. feels like you want me at arms length all the time. Is that part of the fun for you?

What seemed like a fun flirty conversation has now turned somewhat emotional. You sigh, desperate to get things back on track. As you try to formulate a response, you get…oh.

The video’s thumbnail is dark, but you open it anyways. You hear blankets rustling and music being turned down as it becomes clear what he’s sent you. He’s laying on his back in bed; the blanket is pushed down to right below his belly button. You’ve never seen him shirtless…and now that’s all you want to see. Yeah he works out but he looks soft. Kissable. You can imagine how fun it would be to kiss down his neck to his tummy, telling him how pretty he is…making him feel small and fuckable. He starts talking…you can tell he’s nervous.

“Maybe this is too needy…too pathetic…I don’t know” he strokes his free hand mindlessly up and down his stomach, “but you like this. Maybe you want me to act out. Just tell me…please… Do you want me like this? Desperate…completely stupid…” As his voice trails off, he moves his hand down to his blanket-covered waist and palms…

“Oh shit,” you whisper as the outline of his cock comes into view and he speaks again. 

“I want you to want this…please…can I be needy for you?” The video ends just as he lets out a soft, breathy whimper. 

You compose yourself…or try to…and respond. 

You: look at you. Are you comfy in that big bed?

Again, the response is instant. 

Ves: yeah but I’m lonelllyyyyy. 

You: just pretend it’s me, sweetheart.

Ten minutes pass. Wait. Why are you sad he didn’t respond? Why do you care? Why…*ding ding*

Ves: ok, I did it. did I do good?🥺

Another text. A picture. What. A. Sight.

His hand concealed his now flaccid cock… but fully on show was his cum covered tummy. You choke back a moan and grasp your blankets. At this point you’ve forgotten who you’re texting and quite frankly you don’t care. 

You: such a good boy 🐶 you’re a hot mess, aren’t you? 

Crickets. Fucking. Crickets. You don’t hear from him for three days. You keep telling yourself it’s ok and not worth thinking about because you hate each other. It’s just mindless fun. Nothing personal. But then…it dawns on you. You’re technically in charge. 

You: come over  Ves: why? You: why do you think? be here at 8. don’t be a brat  Ves: 🧎‍♂️🐶 see you at 8

Right on the dot, he’s there. You’re hoping this doesn’t end the way it did last time. Necking in his lap before you came to your senses. But the energy is different. He stands close to and studies your face.

“What should I call you? When we’re…you know?”

“What feels natural? Other than ma’am…” you chuckle. Aw. An inside joke. 

He bites his lip and blushes. Why is he doing sweater paws with his hoodie? Such a slut. 

“I can think of one but…” he stammers, “not quite brave enough yet to use it.”

“That’s ok.” Your hands drift up to his chest, where you start to play with drawstrings of his hoodie. “Let me get you some water…do you need a snack before we get started?” 

He considers for a bit but shakes his head. “I can wait until you’re done with me”

You suppress a whimper. He’s in his subspace for you. Get it together. Also, easily entertained much? 

All he said implied was that he’d need sustenance after whatever you do to him because you’ll use him for all he’s worth. Very normal! Not worth whimpering over! “Let me show you my bedroom.” 

You gently pull let the hoodie’s drawstrings bounce as you let go of them. When you step inside your room he chuckles a little.

“Squishmallows eh?”

You give him a playful sneer, although any other time you would have laid into him. “Better get comfy with them if you want to do this.”

He’s already on the bed, shoes kicked off. He grabs one that looks like a shark and holds it to his chest. “Genuinely…your bedroom is really cozy. Thanks for having me over.” He says this as if it was any other conversation, but then he licks his lips a little. “I’m just going to lay here until you need or want me to do something. Is that ok?”

Well. You’re already straddling him before he can finish. “What have you been doing the past three days…hm?”

“I uh…” he stammers and looks up at you with watery puppy eyes. “Working. But…there were some things I didn’t do…”

“Yeah like talk to me.”

“Tsk. Stop. Just because we’re doing this doesn’t mean I’ve become a complete nympho. Honestly.” He rolls his eyes and looks away. “I was going to text you tomorrow anyways. I haven’t touched myself since that night we texted…haven’t…” he shifts under your weight and you feel a slight throb.

“Oh…is three days a long time for you? Hmm?”

He chuckles a little and squeezes the shark. “It’s…” he snorts when he laughs and hides his face. You move his hands and he chuckles a little more. What a beautiful sound. You realize you could recognize it anywhere and be better for it. “Yeah yeah yeah. It's been a long time for me. It’s usually everyday. Twice.”

“You gave up…six orgasms…for me? Of your own free will?”

“I wanted to do eight, gorgeous. I really did. But you texted and…”

“Well who said you were cumming tonight?”

He takes a deep breath and his eyes roll back a little. “My mistake.”

“No no no.” You lean down and kiss his forehead. “You did the right thing. Saving yourself up for me.” Your kisses trail down to his jaw. Fuck his soft and smooth. You gently nip at his earlobe and chuckle softly as he whines with pleasure. “You know what you are?”

“Hmm?” He lets out hazily. 

“A good boy. A good puppy. Coming when called. Obeying.” Your nose trails against his and you think for a second that this will be a repeat. You two will snap out of it. But he squirms again and pouts.

“I can be so good…please…”

“I’m not even doing anything to you yet…”

He groans as you slide off him and start palming his crotch. 

“Do you know how many times I got off thinking about that video you sent me?”

His cock bobs against your touch as he groans pathetically. “N-no…no idea. It wasn’t much…” 

You start to stroke him. Oh he’s needed this. His hips buck up into hand as he white knuckles the stuffed shark. Mumbled pleas fall from his pretty lips as you ask him what he’s hiding in his sweats. Your fingers slide under his waistband. His moans are whiny and whimpering. 

“Such a puppy.”

You slide his sweats and underwear slowly…just enough to free his cock. You gasp aloud. “Oh my goodness…Ves…look at you. Look. HEY.” You snap a bit to get his attention. His head is lolling back and you haven’t even touched his uncovered cock yet. “I said to look.”

He looks down and groans again as your manicured hands stroke him. You bite your lip and think about how exquisite it’ll feel inside you. The shark squishmallow is put to the side, and he comes up on his elbows. “Mmm..mm…your hands are so pretty. S’soft. Fuuuuck.” Your strokes are gentle and steady. His hips buck to control the pace but you gently flick his tummy. 

“Good boys don’t take.”

He pouts and settles into your bed. He seems to be enjoying himself. His legs twitching, his moans coming more often than not. But you wanted to play. You wanted his brain off. For now he was yours. You stop stroking. “Ves. Look at me.”

He whimpers when you stop and raises his head. The whimper turns into a strangled sob as the long string of spit from your lips coats the head. Your slow, teasing, wet strokes make his face contort like he’s sobbing. “Fffffff….uuuuCK! M-m-mmmm…mommy please.” You freeze and look up at him. 

“What was that?”

His face is all panic. “Oh my god oh my god no I’m sorry. It just slipped out…I’ll…fuck…no I’m so sorry.”

You lean forward and shut him up with a tender kiss on the lips. You allow his hands to trail over your ass and breasts, letting his touch linger a bit too long over your nipples. When you pull away, he’s blushing like crazy with hazy, dreamy eyes. “You’re such a good boy,” you whisper.

“T-thank you…mommy.” 

You slip out of your clothes and relish in his gaze. For the first time you don’t feel like he’s here to be your biggest critic…and you don’t need to mouth off to him. He looks at you with a dopey little grin. “Are you going to use me?”

You chuckle softly as you straddle him again. “You could say that. Make you my little boy toy. Would you like that?”

His whimpering keeps him from answering, probably because you’re teasing the head of his cock with your already wet pussy. “God…please use me. Please…it’s what I’m good for…I’ll make you so happy mommy I promise…please!!”

You blush and forget yourself for a bit when he brings one of his hands to his face. He looks adorable. He needs to be held. He needs kisses. “Give me a hand, puppy. Hold yourself still.”

He reaches down and holds his cock as you slide down. He hisses in pleasure and whines as you moan from the stretch. You grasp his chest as his cock disappears into your pretty pussy, your head thrown back and mouth wide open. Vessel’s breath is coming hard and fast as he touches you. He’s bottomed out inside you and he doesn’t dare move. You haven’t told him to. He needs to be good. The past three days won’t have been worth it if he fucks this up. 

You reach back and pat his thigh. “Bend your legs, puppy.”

“Yeah…yeah ok…” he groans out as he obeys. One hand holds his waist while the other trails under his hoodie. He whimpers and bites his lip as you toy with his nipple. 

“Lift your hoodie.” He lifts it only to expose his stomach but stops there. You tsk and pull it up so his chest is uncovered…mmm. “Look at my pretty boy…” you whisper as you kiss across his chest. You take in the warmth and natural scent of his skin…how he tastes under your little licks across his nipples…the texture of his skin between your teeth. A delicious chain reaction occurs when his cock throbs hard against you after leaving teeth marks on one of his pecs. “You’re being so good. I didn’t even have to tell you what to do.”

He looks at you hazily. You’ve only been cockwarming him, and he’s already empty headed. He nods dumbly but then yelps when your pussy clenched around him. 

“Tell me what you thought about that night…when you made the video.”

He gulps and holds you close to his chest. His cock is buried in your tight pussy but he doesn’t dare move.

“I..heh…I thought about being your seat. Your human mattress.”

You kiss and suck on his neck, admiring the red marks already decorating him. “Oh? You like being squished?”

“I thought about something like this. But you’re…you’re fucking me. You lay on my dead weight and then…” his cock throbs inside you and he whimpers.

“Shh I know,” you kiss his temple and nuzzle his face gently. “It feels so fucking good, huh? You like being under me like this?”

“Mhmmm…so safe…mm soft…fuck!” He holds on to you like he did with the shark plushie, his fingers pressing into your flesh desperately. He grits his teeth as he throbs inside you and whines. “Y-y-you’re so…tight. What the fuuuuuck.”

All this time you’ve been covering his face with kisses, grabbing his chin every time he tried to hide from your affection. His heels dig into your bed as he tries to keep himself from squirming and fucking you.

“Can you be still? Hm?”

“Ye…yeah. Yeah sorry…you just…aahhhh fuck…”

“Use your words, Vessy.” 

His eyes roll back and his back arches slightly. “Don’t call me that…makes me feel little…”

“I do have you pinned down…don’t I? You’re the one squirming.”

His eyes are glassy as he pouts. “Are you enjoying this? I…I…don’t feel like you are…”

You consider this for a second. 

“I don’t want to keep going if you’re not…” His eyes are desperate. “You need this too…fuck…please tell me you need this. You want this right? Please I’ll make you feel so good…if you just bounce on it a little. Please please…I’ll be such a good boy. You can lay on me and…and…I’ll just be a toy. I can take it…let me show you.” 

You don’t even realize you’ve started fucking him. Your hips roll gently, and he lets out an almost pained moan. His hips meet yours and your eyes roll back.

“Fuck…puppy…” your head and vision go a bit fuzzy as he bucks into you and…oh dear.

“Shit shit shit…I’m…I’m sorry…I’m cumming…baby…baby…” he bites his lip and looks up for reassurance as his hands mash you down further on his cock. He hates that he came so fast, it’s clear, but fuck it feels good. 

“It’s ok…cum for me…” you whisper. 

He lays back and catches his breath. You don’t move…his spent cock still trembling in your pussy. He whimpers pathetically.

“What’s wrong?” You ask. He’s clearly not just coming off his high. 

“Fuck I just….” He closes his eyes. “That’s so embarrassing. We barely did anything and I just…came like a fucking virgin. Go ahead.” He covers his eyes with his arm, “make fun of me. Tell me how pathetic I am.” Wow. He already wants to go back to normal.

“No. I don’t think I will.” 

You’re still on top of him. Cockwarming him. You gently move his arm and look at him softly. His lips twitch. Not to kiss you, but to try and smile. 

“You feel nice on me,” he whispers. “I really like your body. Even…even before we started this. Thought you were pretty.”

You chuckle a little and rest your chin in your hand. “Not sure why.”

He rolls his eyes. “Do you know why I hate you?”

You shake your head and let out a little laugh. 

“It’s because you’ve made me realize I don’t have to be miserable. That I could be someone to someone else. But that requires…change. Taking care of my…stupid self. Being better. I can’t have you. You don’t want me as I am. Honestly. I’m a wreck. It’s better for you to hate me and only see me as a plaything.”

His hands trace lazy patterns on your back. How strange it is to have this conversation while he’s inside…but that doesn’t bother you as much as his confession does. 

“Vessel. Jesus. I…Ves…I can’t stand you because you’ve never been nice to me. And now you’re saying it’s because you like me too much, yet not enough to get over yourself?”

He winces and sniffs. “It would be easier, getting over myself, rather than trying to not feel something for you.”

You move his face so he’s looking at you again. “Do you want to leave,” you ask. “You don’t have to stay longer than you want.”

Ves cups your face and tries to steady his breathing. “No. No, I don't want to leave. I want to stay and pretend I’m not me for just a little while. Is that ok?” You stare at each other…your breathing syncs…your eyes search other’s face. He strokes your face and purrs softly as his cock begins to stiffen again. Each time it throbs, you whimper, which in turn makes him chuckle softly. His hand slides down to your ass. “I need you. You’re the only one I want to…be with like this.”

“You don’t want this with someone you love.”

His eyes bore through you. He huffs and bites his lip, leaving an indention you swear would break skin. “May I please…may I please fuck you again? Properly. The way you deserve.”

You gasp softly and nod. “Would you like to be on top, puppy?”

His inhale is shuddering and sharp as he nods dumbly. You slide off him and lay beside him on your stomach. Ves seems confused.

“A-a-are you sure? From behind?”

You nod and beckon him closer. He slides off his sweats but you tell him to keep the hoodie on. “How hard are you for me?”

Leaning against you between your legs, he lightly taps his cock on your ass. It’s heavy and feels warm against your curves. He kneads your plush ass and whines a little. “So lucky…I am such..a…lucky…fucking…boy….fuuucckkkk.” He presses into your gushy pussy with a long, pathetic moan. You press against him, and his grip on your hips becomes shaky. “GOD you’re so hot….fuuccckkkkkk.”

You chuckle and moan as he thrusts gently…just trying to create some friction without completely losing his mind. He leans down and you feel the draw strings of his hood tickle your back. You reach behind you.

“What is it?”

“Come here, puppy,” you whisper softly. When he does you’re able to grab the drawstrings…anything to keep him in place. Leash him. Your fingers grip the collar of his hoodie now, and he collapses into you. “You going to be good? Stay right here for me, hm?”

He can’t even speak…he just lets out whimpers and moans that sound like sobs. You can only gasp with each thrust as he blubbers about it feeling “so..so..so..fucking good.” He whines into your shoulder as you pull him closer but the hoodie. “Please…let me…let me touch…please…”

“Mhm…” you let out weakly as he ruts into you. His hand trails down and under you towards your clit. You buck back into him as his nimble fingers find your clit. Cumming on your tummy never came easy, but with an eager lover, you think now it could happen. No matter who’s fingers it was rubbing your puffy clit between his fingers. 

“Mm…baby…baby let me bad. Please I know…i know…i know… I’m good boy but please let me bad…”

You grip your pillow and groan as your pussy quakes around his long cock. He takes this and your slutty, high pitched moan as consent. He takes your wrists in one hand and grips them roughly. You would be concerned about bruises if you weren’t seeing stars from the way his cock’s head rubs against your g-spot. He lets out something like a growl as he fucks you faster and harder. You’re mashed into the bed and cumming for the second time as he grabs you tight and bites your shoulder. You yelp and moan pathetically.

“Ves you’re so bad….you’re so…fucking naughty….” You’re cumming again as you lift your ass like you want him to mount you even deeper. He takes a break just to feel your orgasm squeeze him and to catch his breath. You let go of his hoodie, and he quickly rips it off. A sharp spank lands on your ass…he hisses with pleasure as he watches the skin of your ass cheek pinken before he lands another on you. 

“May…may I roll you over…please” he asks as he pulls out of you and rolls you over. It’s almost adorable how he toes the line between the asshole you know and a precious submissive boy. He spreads your legs, putting one up against his chest as he presses his cock back into you. One hand grasps your tummy and the other holds your ankle for leverage. “You’ve ruined me…” he moans as your name falls from his lips. Over. And over. And…over. He nibbles and kisses your ankle as he presses hard on your squishy lower tummy. His gasps come hard as it’s quite clear he’s reaching his limit.

“Ves…you’re gonna make me…fuck…I’m…”

“That’s it. Please…I want to see it…I need it…you’re so …ffffucking gorgeous….” he grabs you harder and rams into you with a powerful groan, his eyes wild as he exhales and bites his lip. “You’re…you’re going to cum…so….FUCKING hard on me…you won’t be able to cum again without thinking about me…Fffffuuuhhh”

His face contorts as his second orgasm ripples through his entire body. The thrusts become short, hurried bumps against your pussy as your back arches. You begin to rub your clit in rough, hurried circles as he fucks his cum hard into you. His eyes are misty as he mumbles about what a pretty angel you are…how good you’re taking his dick when…oh god…

A few moments later, he’s pulled out of you, looking down at the mess you made. You had never…ever squirted. And this…well…Vessel did that. You had no energy to hate. To be mean. Everything was different now. “I…wow…”

“Ever done that before?”

You lay back and catch your breath, wiping your watering eyes, shaking your head. “No…so…thanks I guess.”

He rubs your thighs and chuckles. “You’re amazing. Do you know that?”

You smile up at him and chuckle.

“Christ, what?”

“You’ve ruined it.”

“Oh…fuck off..ruined what?” He laughs and runs his fingers through his hair.

“My plans to die alone and hate you forever…thanks a lot.”

“Likewise, sweetheart.”

[psuedosugu]

2am ★

suguru geto x reader

synopsis: your friend (?) comes into your room at 2 in the morning because he can’t sleep.

notes: hes so precious i just wanna kiss him ahhhhhh

the glowing numbers on your alarm clock read 2:00 am. the sky outside your semi-open window shows pitch black while the curtain covering it occasionally flutters due to the wind.

you lie in your bed, still and unable to sleep due to the thoughts running through your head plus your efforts to suppress them.

these days, your mind seems to always wonder back to the star plasma vessel mission, to riko herself.

riko amanai. a young girl, no older than 13. she didn’t deserve to die. you can still remember the sound of the gun hitting her, the sound of her now-still body hitting the ground, and her cold lifeless gaze. what could you have done differently to save her?

moping about it was doing you no good, though, so you decided that you would stop thinking about it all together, which was easier said than done.

you stared up at the ceiling, trying to think of something, anything else. counting sheep was turning out futile. sleep. sleep. you just wanted sleep. it felt like you hadn’t slept in months.

the familiar click! of your doorknob turning snapped you awake. you almost never lock your room, but only one person would come in here so late at night.

“nnh…suguru.” you sat up to look at him.

“did i wake you up? i’m sorry.” he asks sheepishly. his dark hair is outside of its usual bun, cascading onto his shoulders and part-way down his back. his eye bags are obvious, he must be just as tired as you are.

“i can leave if you wa-“ he starts but you interrupt him. “you didn’t wake me up! i- i couldn’t sleep either and even if i wasn’t awake, you’re always free to come in here.”

he had already stayed the night in your dorm a handful of times so him still being nervous about it was confusing, but cute nonetheless.

“you’re too kind to me,” he says, a smile adorning his face. that smile. that stupid smile.

admittedly, when your mind wasn’t occupied with dead girls toppling onto concrete floors, it was usually filled with him.

you scooted over and patted on the space next to you. as you started to sink back into the warm sheets, he made his way beside you, sliding into the covers.

“how’d your mission tod- yesterday go?” you ask, turning your head to look at him. he’s gorgeous, so gorgeous, you think.

“mmh, about as good as it could’ve gone.” he sighs.

sometimes, you feel like he’s the only person who will ever truly understand. he was there, right next to you when it all went down. maybe that’s why the two of you are so close now, a trauma bond of some sort.

the two of you lay together, only a few inches in between. that space was slowly shrinking as you gradually shifted closer every time you stole a glance at him. it felt taboo, these feelings that you were having for him. you weren’t supposed to feel this way. not about him.

unaware to you, suguru had been having similar thoughts. as much as he’d try to deny them because you would never ever like him back, he thought, they always sprang back up. he was tired of having to hide them.

to him, you were the sun itself, the center of his galaxy. he was so lucky, he thought, that you let him in your space so often, that he was able to breathe in your presence.

your shoulders were now side by side, touching, and he didn’t say a thing. suguru’s comforting presence had your eyes drooping.

your mind started to wonder to what it would be like to sleep next to him every night, maybe in a house the two of you would own instead of these dorms. you knew were getting ahead of yourself with your white-picket-fence fantasies, but you were too tired to care.

half asleep and absentminded, you snuggled closer to him, burrowing your face into the crook of his neck and slipping an arm around him. maybe you were feeling bold. maybe you were too tired to fully comprehend what you were doing.

suguru froze, his heart threatening to thump out of his chest. he was sure you could feel it against you. could you feel it? could you feel his emotions for you? did you know? he wanted you to know. he wanted to spill his hear out, to kiss you like there was no tomorrow, to have you.

he needed this. he needed you.

“[name]?” he murmured. you let out a faint hum in response, teetering between the border of awake and asleep.

“look,” he braced himself. he didn’t know what would come out of this, if your friendship would survive. he didn’t want to lose you, the only one who, he thought, truly cared, but he couldn’t live like this.

“..I’ve been having these feelings….these feelings about you. i..I’m really glad we’re friends, but every time you talk to me i just don’t know. i don’t know if i want just this. i want more. i want us to at least try having more. i know its sudden but its how i feel.”

he waited in anticipation for your response, staring at the ceiling. a few moments passed and he called your name. “[name]?” he asked, “..please say something.” a few more moments passed and he heard a soft snore. he looked down and sure enough you were knocked out, your chest rising and falling.

he smiled, moving a piece of your hair out of your face. had you heard any of what he said? would you even remember? probably not, he thought. oh well. there’s always tomorrow.

his eyes started to droop too, and he slipped into unconsciousness to thoughts of you, you, you.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Offerings

a/n I would say don’t ask cause my brain works on its own accord. Thanks to @twilighttowayvision for listening to me yap and making me write this. 🤍✨🫧🤝🏻🙂‍↕️

summary: this is loosely based on worship. Our oc is a back vocalist for ST and her and the boys aren’t afraid to get handsy on stage. The problem however is that she catches an eye of another band. So when Noah from bad omen wants her to be the guest act in one of his shows emotions run high. Jealousy bubbles. Pretty white jaws get bloody.

warning: sexual tension, sexual behavior implications, brat goodness.

Sleep token boys x reader

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The pre-show prep had been slow today. Mostly because you had enough time to get most of the stuff up and running in the couple of days that you’ve spent here. Meaning that there had been no running around, no packed sound checking, and no feeling of needing to be at four places at one time. So you had made yourself comfortable on one of the backstage sofas. Scrolling through different group chats you had going on with the whole sleep token crew. 

That’s when you came across the endless links Espera had sent you. “Tell me that you’ve seen this,"  the message read, followed by heaps of emoji that made no sense. You frowned slightly, clicking on the first link. And it’s not what you expected. A moment of confusion turned into shock before a grin spread onto your face. You quickly sat up, pressing on another link. A video after video played on and on until you were biting your lip.

“What are you smiling at?”, the sound of a iii’s voice nearly made you drop your phone.“Nothing,"  you answered a tad bit too enthusiastically, instantly making your bandmate narrow his eyes at you. “Yeah, right. You look like a Christmas tree,"  iv he huffed, pulling a towel from over his head as he dried his curls. You could lie. You couldn’t if you were being realistic. Their bullshit radar was too good for that. A half-truth might do the trick. Might… “Girls sent over this video,"  you shrugged, glancing back at your phone and trying really hard not to let your cheeks flame. 

“Oh, no… another thirst trap of us,"  ii grinned as he too stepped into the room, reaching for the beverage fridge. “You don’t need to drool over us via screen, baby girl," iii he cackled, wiggling his eyebrows. Striking one pose after another. He flexed his muscles as if he was indeed attending a competition of sorts. You couldn’t help but cackle at him.

“Got the real deal in blood and flesh right in front of you, darling," iv plopped down on the sofa, next to you, leaning in suggestively. You pushed back at his chest. “Not self-obsessed one bit," he simply shrugged, that shit-eating grin shining bright. “Give me that."  You didn’t even notice ii coming to your other side before your phone was in his hands, fingers flying over the numbers on your lock screen. “Hey, no."  You moved to stand up, but iv wrapped his arms around your middle, bringing you back down. This time onto his lap. Arms snacking over your middle. “You all suck,"  you growled, knowing full well that they were going to be met with.

“Yeah, if I could, I would steal the Siren," the voice on the screen filled the room and you don’t have to know it all to notice the way the three of them instantly looked at one another. Piecing together everything that had been happening. “Have you seen her? Her vocals would fit into most of our songs."  A light groan left IV's lips as Noah’s voice continued to bleed into the background. iii’s arms were crossed over his chest. There was no gleam of amusement in his eyes. It’s ii who seemed delighted with this. But not in a you-go-girl kind of way. Oh no, he knew what shitstorm this was going to cause. And to help with your matters, Vessel and Esperas casually stroll backstage as well. 

“We’re working on getting her on our side; I’d die a happy man if she brought her worshiping to our stage."  That was enough to make Vess halt. “What the fuck was that?”, he huffed, walking towards ii, glancing at the phone in his hands. “Bullshit, that’s what that was," iii said, shaking his head, leaning back against the wall in frustration. "Oh, come on,"  the girls laughed in unison, “a boy has a crush." Your eyes grew big as you shook your head with a hiss, “Girls.”

“Has a crush, my ass!", iv practically growled, hands tightening on your thighs, but you were quick to peel his hands off you. “Now who’s being hypocritical?" You stood up, narrowing your eyes at him. He was annoying when he wanted to be. You knew that first hand “What is that supposed to mean?” Iv is quick to jump up too. You knew he was harmless, but his quick movement still made you step back slightly. “You go off to play with Oli, and no one says a peep about it,"  you wheezed through gritted teeth. “That is different," ii cut in, and you couldn’t help but gape at him. Of course, his shit-stirring ass would side with them. “Last time I checked, he can also grab iv dick, no NDA about that?"  you said, crossing your arms over your chest. Just made the mistake of glancing at iv, who was practically red with anger now, “You fucking...", but he didn’t get to finish the sentence before iii draped an arm around his shoulder, turning him around. “Cool off,"  he muttered, tapping a hand on iv’s chest. 

“Breather. Outside. Now”, Vessel pointed towards the door. And as much as you hated the pre-concert arguments, you didn’t want to drop this now. “Bark while you’re at it,"  you raised both middle fingers at iv, but the sight was short-lived as Vess stepped in front of you, gripping your jaw and pulling your face to meet his. "Y/n,"  it was barely a whisper, but the tone shift said it all. “We’ll talk about this after."  You want to fight back, but instead, you just nodded. Pushing past him to go get ready. Simply out of spite moving to quickly typed out a message to Bad Omen’s Instagram account. The likelihood of them seeing it, however, was low. Right…?

The concert ended up being only mid. The tension that usually had everyone grinding against one another. Pushing the possible limits had turned into a cold war. In moments like this, iv pride was bigger than him. You knew he wouldn’t blow off before the show started, so it wasn’t that much of a surprise that he pretty much avoided you like the plague. Leaving you at the mercy of iii and Vessel for the most part. So it was Vess who had you press against his chest until the black paint was smudging all over your back. Hand on your throat as he sang the lyrics of the songs straight into your bloodstream. Even the kiss that iii leaned in for felt off, so you didn’t push him. Didn’t push any of them. Not when your attempts of luring them out of their pissy mood was cut with a cold shoulder. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t frustrated about it. 

"Here," warmth spreads through your body as a familiar scent filled your senses. You welcomed it on most days, but today it only made your frown deepen. So with a shrug of the hand, you pushed the leather jacket off. “Don’t be a brat; you’ll catch a cold," iii grunted, forcefully wrapping you up in iv’s jacket. 

“Who knew you would be the one mending the bridges", you hissed out, taking another drag from your cigarette. iii tapped at his lips, and you quickly held the same cigarette out for him, letting him take a couple of drags in. “He’s pissed because he cares," iii said after blowing out the smoke. “We both know that he’s fiercely protective over people he lets in close." And you knew that. Knew that from all the tines his steal mask would slip. And you would be left with nothing but a needy man. One that’s constantly leaning into you or falling asleep on your shoulder. “You remember him after people started talking shit about Vess dancing”, iii pointed out, “He yapped about it for the rest of the night. I throw punches, iv talks, that’s his weapon”.

“You are all acting as if I’m about to sell my body on the highway," you huffed, shaking your head in frustration. “We found you first," iii nearly sang, snatching the cigarette from between your fingers. “Oh Jesus, it’s that fucking male ego,"  you growled, wrapping the iv’s jacket tighter around your body. iii extended one of his arms out. You didn’t need to be told twice, as you buried your face in his chest. “You are a whole package,"  he muttered under his breath, pressing his lips to the top of his head. “We don’t want you jumping ships." You pulled back slightly. “I’m not leaving you; it’s one concert from what I understood,"  you whispered, knowing full well that if they said no, you wouldn’t go. After all, they were your people. And the last thing you wanted was for them to feel as if you were replacing them in some way. “One too many, baby,"  he let out a sigh, “One too fucking many”, killing the cigarette with his foot before pulling you back into the warmth of the back room. 

The topic of those videos was dropped without bringing it up ever again. They don’t bring it up, so you did just the same. Until one night, your phone pings, and you couldn’t help the grin that spreads over your face. “Tell me that I can see your cute face tonight”, it read. Making you fall back onto your bed, as you silently screamed into your screen. You keep it to yourself this time. The least ears heard about the less hearts would break, but even as you were getting ready to leave, you knew that there was no way you could leave the apartment you all rented out without the boys noticing you walking down the stairs, and from the sound coming from lower floor, they were in the living room. In conclusion right by the staircase. But what was bitting another bullet after all?

"Okay, style icon," iii whistled as the sound of your heels made them all turn your way. You shot him a smile, “You like?" Twistling,  you gave them all a look at your head-to-toe black outfit, only a baby pink mini dress bringing contrast to the whole outfit. “Are you sure you girls don’t want us tagging along?”, Vessel asked, tilting his beer bottle your way. And here you were. Screwed all over. You had forgotten about girls going out tonight. Well, you were going out with them until you got that message, and then your brain blanked. “She’s not going with the girls," iv muttered, his jaw clenched as his eyes looked you up and down. Not the gentle kind of look. Oh, no. He was eating you with his gaze. Burning through your skin. Seeing into part of you, you didn’t want him to. Sending a shiver down your spine. “IV is right, I’m not."  You held your head up; you owned them nothing. Well, not fully true, but still. You were your own person. “Tell me that it’s not what I think it is," ii chuckled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Wipe that grin off your face," you grunted.

Silence fell over the room. ii kept his eyes on you challenging you to break first. But when you didn’t back away he leaned forward. Both inked palms firmly placed on the table. “Careful, or you’ll be whipping something else off your face and legs,"  he said, leaning forward. His blunt answer and forwardness took you off-hand because to get through the impenetrable wall of calmness that ii had built was impossible. It had been impossible. “Not yours to paint tonight,"  you shot them a smile, reaching for the bottle iii was holding before downing the last remaining liquid. “But I’ll send Noah your hellos,"  you smiled at them right as the sound of a car signaling outside of the window echoed, “Don’t wait up, boys." You waved them off over your shoulder. Feeling your heart hammer against your ribcage. The dizziness clouding your eyes. But you couldn’t turn back now. You couldn’t go there now when you knew they were boiling. This was good. This would give them time. Right…?

[soul-has-left-the-chat]

Lmao 💀 I tried a lil something

Also made thumbnail sketches for fun today

As the text says, disregard

Wtf am I on today 😨

Will private later cause ya

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Part III

Welcome to part 3!! It makes me so happy to see all of you enjoying this, I'm so excited to keep writing and sharing with you guys!!! However, I'm going to be putting a content warning on this chapter, everything will be clearly laid out in the warning! Other than that we get some sweet II and III, so enjoy! Again, thank you so much for reading, if you'd like to be added to the tag list don't hesitate to let me know!

WARNINGS: Content warning for a scene with an aggressive man. Some guy is trying to pick up reader, he's gross, he gets mad when reader turns him down, attempted grabbing but nothing actually happens, aggressive language. Brief description of a hand wound and care of said wound. I think that's everything, if I missed any please let me know!

Part II - Part IV

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

Thank you as always to @spookyghostjelly for beta reading, ily ❤️❤️❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your fingers drummed nervously across the countertop, your face starting to hurt from forcing your rehearsed smile. You felt beads of sweat starting to gather at your temples, your skin growing itchy as one of the droplets slowly trailed its way down your skin. The man at the counter leaned in a little too close to you, his breath smelled of cheap cigarette smoke and stale beer, making it difficult for you not to gag. “Come on, just one date.” His gaze pierced into you, hungry and unwelcoming. You shifted your weight in between your feet, eyes darting away from him as you attempted to plan your escape.

“I’m sorry, I’m not interested.” You crack a nervous, apologetic look. His eyebrows narrowed, his whole expression changing in a way that lets you know you hadn't given him an answer he would accept. You nearly jumped out of your skin as the bell chimed above the door. Your gaze snapped over to the entrance to find Vessel, II, and a third man you didn’t recognize slipping inside. II started in your direction, only for Vessel to grab him by the arm and tug him towards the back.

“I promise I’m a nice guy.” He smiles at you with yellowing teeth, despite how friendly he tried to seem, his gaze still locked into you maliciously.

“Ves, I have the case of drinks you asked for!” You call to the back of the store, hoping to catch his attention to signal your state of distress. Before you had a chance to see him react the man snapped his fingers in your face.

“Excuse me, I believe we were having a conversation babe.” Out of the corner of your eye you see the mystery man Vessel brought with him stiffen, his head turning slightly in your direction as he straightens up. “I see you’re exactly like all the other stupid whores in this town, always distracted by guys with muscles.” He sneers, leaning in even closer. "Well I deserve a chance too. I don't deserve to be tossed aside like trash." His voice cracked as he spoke, you noticed his body started to shake as he grew more unpredictable and upset with every passing second. "Now, I've been patient… I'm going to ask you one last time before you and I have a fucking problem, do I make myself clear?"

"I've already answered you. I suggest you see yourself out before I call the cops." The man suddenly screams in frustration, making you jump. You attempted to back away from him, trying to put some distance between the two of you, only for him to try and grab you. As he swiped at you a hand grabbed the man’s wrist, pinning him in place. You watched as he expertly put the man's wrist in some sort of hold causing the man to cry out in pain, almost falling flat on his face as he tried to scramble away.

“Just walk forward and it won’t hurt.” Your savior barks out a command, ushering the man out of the store. II approaches the counter, grabbing the man’s bags and throwing them out the door after him. You watch as the unknown man grabs the attacker by his jacket and throws him to the ground, rolling him off the curb, his cans rattling to the ground behind him. The second the situation was handled II’s eye’s immediately found yours, long strides bringing him next to you impossibly fast.

“Are you okay?” He asks you softly, his large hands engulfing your much smaller trembling ones as he allows you a moment to process that you were once again safe. You nod as you let out a shaky breath. II pushes some stray hair out of your face, giving you a quick once over to inspect for any injuries. He lets out a soft hum of approval as he sees nothing physically wrong.

“I’m just a little shaken up, that’s all.” You gave his hands a gentle squeeze, trying your best to resist the urge to crumble into a mess of panicked tears under his gentle gaze.

“III, is he gone?” Vessel calls over to the other man.

“Yeah he tore out of here pretty quick.”

"I'm sorry I didn't step in sooner." Vessel offers you an apologetic smile.

"It's alright, I'm sorry you had to get involved. But thank you, all of you, for doing something. I didn't expect him to fly off the handle like that." Vessel places a comforting hand on your shoulder, II did one final check to make sure you were alright before stepping away.

The third man slowly approaches the counter, being cautious . He takes your hand firmly in his. "(Y/N)?" You nod in response. "III, nice to meet you, sorry it couldn't be under better circumstances." He smiles in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Thank you for that." His thumb trails over your knuckles as he studies your face for a moment.

"Of course, I can't stand seeing disgusting pigs like that trying to force themselves on women." You feel II's warm hand come to rest in your shoulder.

"Are you going to be okay here by yourself?" He asks.

"Yeah I should be alright, I probably won't get that much sleep, but I'll be fine." You try to reassure him. You found yourself looking around the empty lot nervously as they drove away, expecting the man from earlier to be standing somewhere outside. You sprinted upstairs, slamming your door shut behind you, triple checking that you had locked up tight. You collapsed on your couch with a sigh, turning on your TV to distract yourself. You found yourself sucked into mindless television, your nerves slowly withering away as you let yourself forget about the day's events. You quickly muted the TV at the sound of something tapping against your window. Your pulse immediately began to race as you realized that there was someone outside. You grabbed your phone, dialing emergency services so you were ready. Cautiously you approach the window, keeping yourself out of sight as you look outside. Your body immediately relaxed at the sight of a familiar figure. You were met with the sight of II throwing small rocks at your window to get your attention. You tug at the stuck frame, pushing it up with a groan as it scrapes into place. "What are you doing here?" He drops the small pile of pebbles he was holding, dusting off his hands.

"I didn't feel right leaving you alone after today." He calls back. He shoves his hands in his pockets, his overall demeanor somewhat nervous as you wait for him to continue. "If it's alright with you, I figured some company might help." He shrugs slightly. You blush at his offer, slowly nodding in response

"I'd like that." He straightens up with confidence at your response. "Stairs are around back, I'll let you in." You hurried over to the door, stopping to look in a mirror to fuss over anything that was out of place. You took a deep, steadying breath as you opened up the door. II was just jogging up the stairs as you stepped out into the cool night air. He paused on the landing, the two of you trying to figure out what to say as you awkwardly rocked back and forth on your heels. You didn't know why you felt so nervous. Granted, you had only known II for a couple weeks at this point, but he had always been so kind towards you, if anything you looked forward to seeing him come into the shop day in and day out. "Come on, it's cold." You pull your sweater tightly around you to try and block out the wind, a shiver running through your whole body at the sudden drop in temperature. "Let's go inside, I'll make you some tea." II stands awkwardly in the entryway, almost as if he was waiting for instructions on what to do next. "Make yourself at home." You prompt. He clumsily pulls off his boots, tucking them neatly into the corner. You hummed softly as you worked on starting the kettle, watching as II acquainted himself with your living space. He walked around with his hands behind his back, carefully leaning in to look at pictures or other various items that seemed to pique his interest. You lean over his shoulder to see what he was looking at, your soft chuckle caused him to jump slightly as he suddenly realized how close you had gotten. He motions to the picture, silently asking if he could pick it up. You nodded enthusiastically.

"Which one's you?" He asks, settling close to your side so you could look at the photo together. Your eyes scanned over the group until they landed on the image of you letting out a boisterous laugh just as the photo was taken. You pointed, II studied the picture for a moment before glancing up at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a smile. "You look so pretty." You can't help but blush at the direct compliment. "Where was this?"

"It was taken at the Fall Festival in town, actually." He sets the picture neatly back in place. You found yourself getting lost in his eyes before you jumped slightly at the sound of the kettle singing. "I'll be right back." You grab two mugs, handing one to II as you both nestle into the couch.

"I like your apartment, it's nice." He remarks cheerfully.

"It's not much, but it's home." You respond with a smile. He turns away from you, lifting up his mask just enough to sip at his tea. "Thank you for coming to see me…" you trail off, running your finger around the edge of your mug. "I feel a lot safer with you around."

"I'm glad," he replies softly, fidgeting with his sleeve. "I want to become someone you trust," you both look up simultaneously, your eyes meeting his. "I won't let anything hurt you if I can help it." You smile, your eyes scanning over the contours of his face beneath his mask. You wanted to reach out and take his hand, feeling an overwhelming need to be close to him.

"I really appreciate you coming to check up on me, II." He shifts slightly, bringing himself slightly closer to you.

"Anytime." He breathes out a laugh. "I just… I had to make sure you were alright. When we walked into the store earlier, and I saw that guy harassing you, I don't know what came over me but I just saw red. If Vessel hadn't grabbed me I honestly don't know what I would have done to him." He tentatively reached out, you met him halfway, allowing your hand to rest in his. "Then, when we left, you still looked so scared. I don't know, maybe I'm just being overprotective." He chuckles. You found yourself absentmindedly fidgeting with his fingers as he held your hand, slowly circling your thumb around his own.

"I honestly was still really anxious when you showed up." You admit, a bit embarrassed. "Having you here with me is really nice."

He leans in a bit closer to you in order to whisper, "I'll stay as long as you need." He shoots you a playful wink, making you giggle. The two of you sat talking late into the night. Any worries from the day's previous events are the furthest thing from your mind as II helped to lull you into a state of comfort you weren't sure if you had ever experienced before. You looked over at the clock, you groaned as you realized you'd have to be up for work in a few hours. "I'll take that as my cue to leave." He chuckles. He stands, stretching his arms high above his head with a pleased sigh.

He haphazardly shoves on his boots as you trail behind him to the door. "I guess I'll see you at the store." Despite how hard you tried it was impossible to mask the disappointment in your voice. The truth was you didn't want him to leave. In the fleeting hours you had spent with him this evening you felt like you had finally started to meet the real II. Despite how friendly he always was towards you, there was still something about him that was so guarded. You were hoping that given enough time you would become someone he could trust as well.

"Maybe we could do this again sometime?" He shoves his hands in his pockets, his eyes trailing to the floor as he asked.

"I would love to… I had a great time." You smile at him. You found yourself subconsciously shuffling closer to him.

"I did too." You reach out for the door handle, catching the smell of II's sweet cologne. You look up at him, intense blue eyes already studying you. You swallowed thickly as you froze, you really didn't want him to leave. His gaze drops to your lips for a fraction of a second before he clears his throat, snapping both of you from your trance-like state. You pull the door open, stepping out with him into the cold fall night. "Be safe, yeah?"

You nod, "you too." You stood on the landing as he headed down the stairs. "Goodnight II." He pauses at the bottom.

"Goodnight (Y/N)." He bows his head slightly before heading around the building. You didn't get much sleep the remainder of that night. No matter how much you tossed and turned you couldn't get the thought of II out of your head. His bright blue eyes, soft voice, your whole night with him kept replaying in your mind like a dream. Luckily, your next day at work was uneventful, the most exciting part of your shift was cleaning bright red food dye off the floor from a kid who dropped their slushy. You clicked off your open sign, propping the door open to start bringing in your stock for the evening. You got to work lugging the crates of produce inside as you waited for your helpers to show up.

"Fuck's sake Charlie, could you have loaded this thing up anymore?" You grumble to no one as you struggled with a particularly heavy crate. You yelped as your foot got caught on a pallet, the handle of the crate splintering apart in your palm as you slammed it and your full body weight to the ground. You winced as you opened your hands. One of them was relatively unscathed, a few minor scrapes from the skin dragging across the pavement. Your other hand, however, wasn't so lucky. A long gash spread across your entire palm, small chips of the bright blue plastic barely visible against the deep red pool. You jumped as someone rushed around the side of the building.

"Are you alright?" It was III, his eyes wide with worry as he rushed to your side. "Can I look?" You gingerly hold your hand out to him, your fingers shaking as the adrenaline starts to wear off. He clicks his tongue, "you gotta be careful doll, can't have our best girl getting hurt now, can we?" He smiles as his eyes meet yours. He helps you up, careful not to bump your injured hand, before leading you inside. "You sit here," his hands land on your waist as he lifts you to sit on the counter. "Where's your first aid kit?"

"Just outside of the bathroom in the back. III, I promise I'm alright-" he waves you off before you have a chance to finish your statement.

"I know you can handle yourself, but you're hurt." He calls back to you as he retrieves what he needs. He makes his way back up to the counter, waiting with an outstretched hand for you to present the wound for him. "I was always taught," he continues in a tone barely above a whisper, "that if you're hurt you should probably let someone else help."

"I guess you're right," he looks up at you through his lashes. Striking blue eyes cause you to blush under their intense gaze. "But, regardless, thank you." He gently takes the wrist of your good hand, bringing it over to his arm.

"This isn't going to feel good," he states bluntly, "squeeze as hard as you want. You nod, your fingers instantly digging into his arm as he cleans off the cut with disinfectant. He was quick but meticulous with his work, making sure the bandage was securely fastened before cleaning up after himself. "There you go doll, good as new." His eyes crinkle as he smiles. "But, I will be taking care of the lifting today." He says in a playful tone. He helps you down off the counter, allowing you to stick by his side in order to help him figure out where everything went. You sat next to him on the floor, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from laughing so hard. There was a knock on the door, both of you instinctually turning in the sound's direction. III peers above the shelf before fully standing up. "I'll get it." You hear Vessel and II's familiar voices as he opens the door.

"Where is she?" II asks.

"She's over there, she had a bit of an accident earlier so-" before III had a chance to finish explaining II hurried around the shelf to assess the damage himself.

"What happened?" His eyes wide as he knelt down next to you. "It wasn't that asshole again, was it?" You can't help but laugh slightly at his concerned tone.

"I fell and cut my hand on a crate." You explain holding up your bandaged palm. He sighs in relief, his shoulders noticeably relaxing.

"You gotta be careful, dove." He gently pats the top of your head. He stands, offering his hand to help you up. "Come on, IV really wants to meet you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List: @spookyghostjelly @herripinkle @thepoisonedchalice @saturnhas82moons @wingsofeternitysstuff @creamwhxre @itsyagirl-snowflake @themultiverseofmars @mustluvecho @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @jumpcauseimfroggy (I think that's everyone if I missed you or you'd like to be added please let me know!)

[dewracle]

Masterlist

AO3 - X/Twitter

: ̗̀➛ HEAD-CANON - GROUP

❥ “Crying Finds”   ➛ The boys find you crying ❥ “Your Bed Is Mine”   ➛ S/O in the ST boys bed ❥ “Makeout”   ➛ A make-out HC ❥ “Charcoal”   ➛ Helping them remove their paints ❥ “PurrToken”    ➛ Non-human vessels - purr type    ➛ The boys purring for reader ❥ “Kiss”   ➛ Kissing type HC ❥ “Tails”   ➛ Non-human vessels - tail type ❥ “Dom? Sub? Switch?” [NSFW]   ➛ Their bedroom dynamic hc ❥ “Nicknames”   ➛ The type of names they’d call their S/O ❥ “Burned”   ➛ Their reactions to reader getting burned ❥ “I Made You Cry?”   ➛ The boys reaction to reader crying because of them ❥ “Downtime Music”   ➛ HC for the music they listen to in their free time ❥ “Healed Scars”   ➛ The vessels find reader’s self-harm scars ❥ “Blowjobs and Teasing” [NSFW]   ➛ Sexual HC/Blurbs ❥ “You Threaten What’s Mine?”   ➛ The ST boys’ reaction to reader being threatened ❥ “Chokehold: Breedings” [NSFW]   ➛ Being bred by the vessels : ̗̀➛ FICS - LONG WRITES ❥ CONTEND WITH ME - [NSFW] - AO3 ➛ "Blood and Flowers" ➛ Chapter 1 ➛ "Take From Me" ➛ Chapter 2 ❥ "The Debt That I Owe" [NSFW]   ➛ IV lets Vessel fuck his girlfriend ❥ UNFORGIVEN ➛ Sorted Through Slots [NSFW]

: ̗̀➛ POLYVESSELS

❥ “Pinning”    ➛ Vessel x III ❥ "Ignore Me" [NSFW]   ➛ Vessel x III ❥ "Keep Drumming" [NSFW]   ➛ Vessel x II ❥ "Nothing Lasts Forever" [DEAD DOVE]   ➛ IV's Rejection

: ̗̀➛ VESSEL

❥ “Vessel’s Self Doubt”   ➛ Blurb of his self hate ❥ “Somnophilia” [NSFW]   ➛ Waking up and being woken up  ❥ “Flustered” [NSFW]   ➛ Flustered Vessel wanting reader ❥ “Comfort Showers”   ➛ Comforting the vessel ❥ “Beginning”   ➛ HC - Random talk of Vessel ❥ "Vessel's ABC's" [NSFW]   ➛ NSFW ABC for Vessel ❥ "Welcome Me In" [NSFW] ➛ Deepthroat Request

: ̗̀➛ II

❥ "He’s being eaten by a snake” [CRACK]   ➛ Crack talk about ‘foreskin’ II ❥ “Drool on it” [NSFW]   ➛ Sub! II x Dom! GN! Reader ❥ ”Little Late Now” [NSFW]   ➛ Teasing and then jerking off the drummer ❥ “Trans II” [NSFW]   ➛ Trans II headcanons ❥ "II's ABC's" [NSFW]   ➛ NSFW ABC for II

: ̗̀➛ III

❥ “Daddy” [NSFW]   ➛ Imagine of daddy kink III ❥ "III's ABC's" [NSFW]   ➛ NSFW ABC for III

: ̗̀➛ IV

❥ "Cuddles”   ➛ Cuddle hc w/ OC and IV ❥ "IV's ABC's" [NSFW]   ➛ NSFW ABC for IV ❥ "Animals" [NSFW]   ➛ IV using you for his pleasure

: ̗̀➛ OTHER WORKS

❥“Forgotten Forest” ➛ The Death of Vessel - AE Lore ➛ The Savor - AE LORE [NSFW] ❥ “Unofficial Sleep Token Headcanon/Lore” ➛ The beginning of the AE universe, basic info ❥ “Rituals and Bones” [NSFW] ➛ OC! Vessel X GN! Reader

[telleroftime]

"Vessel" doesn't seem like a word to me anymore... anyways Sukuna is very OOC me thinks, but happy comfort means everything to me ,,,

Warnings: Mentions of the general effects of depression; implied eating disorder, insomnia, self deprecating thoughts, self sabotage. (Nothing caused by Sukuna)

Sukuna x Vessel!Reader where, for one reason or another, you are forced to consume some of his fingers. Maybe it was a dare your friends threw at you or maybe it was an order from the the Jujutsu higher ups. Either way, you consume them. Of course, Sukuna thinks you're going to be an easy person to take over and control. A measly human? You're not that strong and yet your soul is just a little too hard to overpower.

Sukuna x Vessel!Reader where he tries to sabotage you. One way or another, he wishes to weaken you. He will take over your body... or so he thinks. He tries to mess with your sleep but you already had it pretty bad. He tries to mess with your eating but you already weren't doing too great. Nothing works because you were already sabotaging yourself before Sukuna came into the picture.

Sukuna x Vessel!Reader where your soul still isn't giving in and he cannot afford to switch vessels. No one had caught his eye as worthy enough and with the fact that he can't even force control onto you, he has no way of switching anyway. So now he has to desperately try and keep you functioning. At least long enough for a solid plan to form.

Sukuna x Vessel!Reader where he forces you to eat and drink and sleep because he'd be damned if your body gives out on him. He'll try and tease you into it, but when he notices that doesn't work he'd come up with some sort of excuse. He's not a liar, he's never been a liar, and yet he's barking out a "I need to eat too" like he's a desperately starved dog. "Let me have a taste," "cook me something," "there's two of us so eat it." It's so demeaning for him to have to say that, but you will live for his sake.

Sukuna x Vessel!Reader where he originally made your dreams a living hell, suffering is his forte after all, but now he feels your body weaken. He can feel your hazy mind, your sluggish movement, your tired eyes. He doesn't like it. He'll stop the nightmares if it means you won't break.

"Oi, wretch, sleep if you're so tired. I ain't dragging this body to bed for you." // "You'll just torment me so what's the point?" // "Would you rather I tuck you in? Sleep."

Sukuna x Vessel!Reader where he's been watching you long enough he ends up picking up when your thoughts end up bothering you. He hates it. The way you just stop and freeze? He finds it such a troublesome 'weakness' and so incredibly dull. Your misery isn't caused by him and he has to watch it regardless? He nags you so much that you have no time to think of anything negative.

Sukuna x Vessel!Reader where he keeps on using the excuse of needing an adequate host. "I have no use for someone so weak, so eat/drink/breathe to not disappoint me". In reality, he has started to fret over you. He's worried, especially as the only place he can truly look you eye to eyes is when he personally drags you into his soul. Where you see him through a reflection of yourself.

Sukuna x Vessel!Reader where he finally finds a different body. Someone far more befitting his needs. Someone far more adequate to house his soul. Not you. It happens right at the moment that you let him in too. Where the eventual banter you two share is far better than the memory of his terror. You know you shouldn't, but have grown to like his company. Which is what allows him to finally take over your body and switch.

Sukuna x Vessel!Reader where the King of Curses has taken a liking to you and comes back to stay, at least for a little while.

Sukuna x Vessel!Reader where your head feels suddenly so... empty. He's gone and you know it and everything is just so quiet. Unbearably so. You probably would have gone back on your bad habits too if it weren't for him. Your soul was alone, yes, but he didn't leave. He came back, like a dog to its owner.

Sukuna x Vessel!Reader where he's so much firmer now. It was one thing having his voice in your head but now you see him in front of you, a body other than yours. His gaze is firm and intense as if even beyond your mind he can still hear your thoughts. Bringing you food, tossing you things. Indifferent in everything but his actions.

[dy6nsty]

Can I request sleep token x reader with a reader who is accident prone? Today alone i have slid on ice, smacked my head off a shelf, and stabbed myself with a comb.

══════════════════════

I LOVE THIS PROMPT. YES, YES YOU CAN‼️I also hope you’re doing good after all that..

Sleep Token x GN! reader who has a tendency to get injured

Relationship— Romantic

══════════════════════

Vessel:

Suddenly has eyes in the back of his head. Knows you’re picking something up. “Put it down.”

Leaves you alone for a couple of minutes and comes back to chaos. Chaos in this scenario was you breaking something.

Blueprints things in his head to figure out if there’s anything that could possibly put you out of trouble.

Was considering getting you one of those child leashes so he can keep a better eye on you.

Follows you around sometimes to make sure you don’t injure yourself or break something. Watching you bump into 70% of things you come across.

Puts rubber counter protectors on surfaces with sharp or hard corners, just so you won’t bang into them on accident.

If you can’t walk in a straight line (I can’t do it either don’t worry guys! 😊)— he’ll help you get around. “Left- right! RIGHT!”

His worst enemy is winter and spring. We have icy grounds than slippery grass. But is also your frenemy.

Is now stalked up with bandaids, glue, tape and other necessities he might need for the future with you. Which is probably a lot.

If you come to him with an injury he’ll let out a long sigh before asking what happened. Let’s you ramble on about how you’ve gotten hurt now while he fixes you up.

═════════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════════

II:

Call him the gigglesaurus at this point. Will watch you stumble than fall and start cackling before realizing he’s not supposed to laugh..

Likes the chaos it can bring! But he still gets a mini panic attack when he realizes you’ve disappeared from you once were: beside him.

Learned how to treat wounds, bruises, and stuff because of how often it started happening. Also learned how to fix mirrors!

Wants to know all of the dumb or serious stories you have. He’s all for it.

Likes to keep an arm around your waist to ensure you won’t get into any inconvenience.

Tries to help you with tasks you might accidentally fuck up. Reaching for things, organizing glasses, cleaning, or even will escort you around areas so you don’t trip over your own feet!

Counts up how many bruises or any marks you have at the end of the day. If he notices a new one he’ll ask what happened. If it happened in a dumb way he just stifles a laugh.

Watches you from afar sometimes to make sure nothings happen so far. If he does see you get hurt he’ll rush over to see what’s happened, again.

Feels like he’s on a news channel at this point. Honestly wonders if you have some sort of curse to how often he’s found you in these exact scenes.

Does not trust you holding glass, plastic, porcelain, or metal objects. He’ll hold them with you but he’s not wanting you to break any of those by falling over, or maybe even dropping them on yourself.

═════════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════════

III:

Stays serious about it but once saw you run into a door and almost lost his shit. Wanted to laugh so hard.

Keeps bandaids, a small thing of bandage wrap + tape, and tissue in his pockets. It’s become a habit.

Carries you around areas that have many things cluttered on the ground so nothing will end up broken.

Trusts you enough to look away and not keep an eye on you 24/7 but still has a physical reflex whenever he hears a crash, bang, or a small sound of something colliding.

Often times will try to fix any messed you might’ve caused. Hiding any evidence that something had happened.

Kisses any minor injuries you get. “It hurts? Want me to kiss it so it feels better?”

Deals with your injuries or things you might’ve smashed, asks how it was caused so he can prevent them from happening further on.

Moves things around if he’s noticed it’s a common occurrence for you to bump into it with the object in the room / it’s placement.

Will take over / help you with certain scenarios if it becomes a problem to where you always end up hurt afterwards.

Warms you about things he sees coming your way: “Wall, you’re gonna walk into it.”, “There’s a plate of glasses, don’t walk into it.”

═════════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════════

IV:

Feels like superman sometimes when it comes to you. Steadies things in your hand if he notices you’re unbalanced.

Will also laugh at you. Unless you’re bleeding. He’ll run over to make sure everything’s all right.

Stocks up on ice packs and replaceable items for ones you might knock over later on.

Makes sure you won’t knock into anyone while your walking, or into anything.

Starts following you around when he can to make sure that you’re not getting into any trouble.

Also an enemy with winter. Especially if you want to try any winter sports. You can try but he might mentally face palm if you get ran over by a kid in a sled.

Starts requesting for plastic cups instead of glass. He can’t risk fancy glasses being broken any longer.

He gets into trouble in his own way, but he swears he’s more safe than you.

Picks you up and carrie’s you away when he senses that something just might happen. Spidey senses over here!!!

He can’t walk in a straight line so your both screwed. Your bumping into each other like you have sea legs.

═════════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════════

i’m sorry if this turned out a little bad! i’m currently on the verge of sleep but rlly wanted to finish this! ^^