#an overwhelming amount of hands sounds fun until you have to draw them

[ohvun]

D E V I L C H I L D >:D

I just think it'd be cool if her demonia fleur was a lil more grotesque yk?

Got super inspired seeing this post by rly cool @wigglesdtuff about a year ago and finally finished it!!:D

I ended up using a picture of a figurine to get the wings to work better bc I was s t r u g g e l i n g ;-;

#an overwhelming amount of hands sounds fun until you have to draw them #i get why they didnt go near this routw #but still it wouldve been cool! #man i love nico robin #oh thw head is a reference to the fallen angel painting! thought it was cool:) #one piece #nico robin #robin one piece #my art #speedpaint #infinite painter #more art will be coming bc i decided i wouldnt post anything before finishing this #and then it was q wip for over a year #sooooo #theres some stuff #if i dint forget ofc #did i forget part of her hair in the final sketch fase? yes #but we dont talk about that #shhhhhhhhh #thank you trains for helping me finally finish this xd

[buckybarnesdiaries]

wakanda

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Steve gives you Bucky's dog tags for a reason.

word count: 2.4k (lol, sorry)

warnings/tags: none. bucky being a cutie.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

“Welcome to Wakanda, agent (Y/N)”.

A second after you crossed their airspace, you were courteously greeted. The views from your ship were indescribable. Peace invaded you just at the sight of the open fields and the warm colors of autumn. You could get used to that place too. To live in calm, work hand-to-hand with Shuri, and have time to spend it with Bucky. The reason why you were flying there. Removing your right hand from the control and grabbing in a fist the dog tags hanging on your chest, you took a deep breath while closing your eyes before getting ready to land. T’Challa was waiting for you at the entry of his kingdom, accompanied by his excited little sister and some of his guards.

Pressing a sequence of buttons above your head, to pull the control back, the ship went down slowly folding its wings. As you landed and turned off the engineers, you freed yourself from the seatbelt and the huge headphones to step out. Shuri received you with a friendly hug, breaking protocol and being just Shuri. You built a strong relationship since you met a year ago, when you brought Bucky to that beautiful and magical place, to let him recover. To let him rest.

“Your highness”. You uttered to T’Challa crossing your forearms in the traditional salutation of Wakanda.

“Agent (Y/N)”. He corresponded walking closer. “The white wolf asked me to let you know he wouldn’t want to be… bothered with visits today”.

You couldn’t help but frown. The last time you saw him was around three months ago. You usually interchanged letters from week to week, being one of the fewer persons he trusted in. And it wasn’t just a question of trust. Steve told you about his feelings, his shyness, and insecurities, his fears. What Bucky didn’t know, again, it wasn’t a question of trust from you either. That’s why the Captain gave you the dog tags, after more than thirteen years under custody. You wanted to see him, to know if he was happy there as he wrote you in his letters one million times.

“He doesn’t wear his arm here”. Shuri clarified, taking a position close to his brother.

By the look on their faces, you were aware of two things. One, they noticed too that something was growing between Bucky and you, and that it wasn’t a simple friendship. Two, they weren’t going to stop you. Oh, quite the opposite. They’d bring you to him on a golden platter and a big red bow on your head. The king beckoned a hand to urge you to follow him to the inside of the building and use one of their ships to fly above the place to the white wolf’s location.

You were nervous. You didn’t sleep more than a couple of hours last night thinking about him and how he’d react to having back his tags since the forties. Your eyes were focused throughout the window on your left, watching different citizens taking care of animals and plantations, children running from one side to another, playing and having fun. Oblivious to the horror of New York, where you resided. One of the cities in the world with the highest rates of street violence. Serial killers or simply killers, rapists, kidnappers, drug dealers (...). It was a minefield and Wakanda seemed and felt like Heaven.

“Did you think about the offer?” Shuri nudged you to push you back to reality, turning your head towards her.

“Since you dropped it to me”.

“So?”

“I…” You needed to put away your gaze again, focusing on the blue opened sky in front of them. “I want… to consult him first if you don’t mind”.

“Of course, (Y/N)”.

“I don’t want to put his world upside down, now that he’s not the…” You couldn’t finish the sentence. You couldn’t pronounce that detestable nickname and the pain beneath it.

Shuri nodded in silence, not needing your explanations. She knew how you felt. She understood you. The talk didn’t continue, stretching your right hand on your lap to calm your nerves and make you comfortable with the situation. The flight didn’t last longer than five or ten minutes, losing the track of time deep in your thoughts. The pilot indicated to you through the headphones that you were about to land, glancing at a complex of small houses in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees and wilderness.

You were the last one jumping outside with your hand grabbing the tags on your chest, trying to find the encouragement there to follow T’Challa’s hand pointing at a man working with goats and collecting hay for them. Licking your lips and assenting with your chin, you guided your steps towards him. Slowly. As if you wanted to turn around at some point. But you knew it was too late when he was the one turning at the sound of your heavy boots cracking the grass under them.

Bucky didn’t look annoyed for your visit, nor the lack of attention to his petition. Although there was something in his pale blue orbs you weren’t able to decipher, until he bowed down his head unconsciously to his left shoulder covered by a dark fabric matching his eyes. You had to do your best to not roll yours, shortening the distance setting you apart. You had been dreaming about that encounter since the last time you were there before Shuri accessed the darkest place of his mind and cleaned it from any trail of HYDRA. Now, he was free. And he looked in good condition as the bags under his eyes had disappeared and his hair was almost tied with a bun. His cheeks seemed a little more chubby and you just wanted to pinch them. But it’d be weird and out of place. For the time being.

Bit by bit, a sweet smile widened in your lips, curving them as Bucky stared at you again when he was conscious that you didn’t care. With or without a metal arm, your feelings were exactly the same. You couldn’t admire him more than you were admiring him at this point. You couldn’t love him more than you loved him already. And God was a witness of how many times you practiced to confess to him and tell him that the only thing you wanted in life was to be by his side. Bring happiness to his days, bring him peace and harmony.

“I'm sorry…” “I brought you…”

You two spoke at the same time, breaking in a soft giggle that jumped your hearts in complete sync.

“You first”. He let you, waving his hand.

“I… brought you something”. You susurrated, loosening the grip around the metal hanging on your chest to take off the necklace.

You noticed the way his eyes widened in surprise and confusion. Why did you have them? Who gave them to you? Why now? Bucky gulped watching you stretching the dog tags between your fingers towards him. He didn’t know what to do, taking a second before he was able to react. He couldn’t remember when was the last time he saw them, and the amount of memories they gave him overwhelmed his whole brain.

In slow motion narrowing his eyes, Bucky held the chain with two fingers to hang the necklace from it. You thought he was about to wear them, but he destabilized you as he directed his hands to above your head, to place them where they were an instant before. You didn’t understand. Didn’t he want them back?

“I want you to keep it”.

“But…”

“I want you to have something mine”. Bucky recognized with a shy smile decorating his lips. “Those tags and my arm are the only things I have from my past. And… I won’t give you my arm…”

“Well, I bet it’d look good hanging from my neck”. You jocked tilting your head.

In his gift, you found the encouragement you needed to talk about T’Challa’s job offer. It wasn’t as if you were proposing to him, in the end, you were just friends even if it felt quite the opposite. You licked your upper lip, kissing your teeth after it, earning more than his attention.

“Shuri said, uh… I could come here, work with her. We’d do great things together, not only for Wakanda but for the world”.

Bucky’s gesture didn’t change a single inch, focused on the nervousness you were trying to hide from him and reading the reasons beneath.

“So T’Challa offered me to stay here”.

“Permanently?”

“Yeah… Permanently”. You assented pressing your lips, breathing through your nostrils.

“Did you accept?”

“Not yet. Not until talking to you about”.

He nodded then a couple of times, turning to the goats behind him coming closer. “Got to finish some stuff… Maybe we can talk later about it unless you have to leave”.

“No, no. I, uh… asked for the day off. Banner didn’t need me at the lab today”.

“Okay, good”.

While the king was showing you the new level for research and investigations, Bucky took the advantage to go and find Shuri without your knowledge. He found her in the surroundings of the main building, working on your ship as you said it made some kind of random noise that put you out of your nerve during the flight.

“I need my arm”.

The princess squatted close to the left wing, turned at him without standing up. Pulling her sunglasses to the top of his head, she raised an eyebrow.

“For what”.

“You know for what”. He clicked his tongue, placing his hand on his left shoulder.

“No, I don’t”. She lied while cleaning the grass and oil in her expert fingers.

“I need to have two arms”.

“You’ve been working the last months with one arm only. Why do you need it now?”

“C’mon… Argh…” Bucky rubbed his face with boredom. “I want to hug her, okay? Can you just… give me back my damn arm?”

“Not enough reasons, you can hug her using your right”.

“I want to have two hands when I kiss her”. He finally confessed in a hiss, provoking a triumphant smile growing on Shuri’s lips.

“If you lie to me, if you don’t kiss her, Sergeant Barnes… I’ll code it to punch your face”.

“Wait…” Bucky wrinkled his nose drawing a horrified gesture on his face, as he turned his blue eyes towards his left shoulder. “Can you… do that?”

“Try me”.

No, of course she couldn’t, but he didn’t know. Which were a good push for him to not go against her and her petition.

“C’mon. I’ll set it up and help you to put it on”.

Your eyes were traveling from one picture to another. He put some of them around his small house and it looked better now. More like a home. A place to stay. And for a second you felt a twinge straight in your heart when you noticed one photograph of the two of you, close to his bed. It was after your first mission together. Steve insisted on taking it, after noticing the sparkles between you. But you didn’t know he brought it to Wakanda with him, as your copy is on your nightstand too. And you used to fall asleep every night looking at it.

The curtain being moved and some steps in pulled you out from your thoughts, turning to find Bucky staring in silence at you. Your orbs landed on the metal arm. It was different too since the last time you saw it, with golden strips forming between the silver ones. You couldn’t help but sigh.

“You didn’t need to…”

“Yes, I did. I did need it”. He interrupted you, breathing through his parted lips and his heart about to fly off from his chest.

“Why?”

“Because, otherwise, I couldn’t do this”.

You were about to ask what he was referring to, watching him breaking the distance between the two of you in three fast strides. You closed your eyes at the moment his hands held your neck and Bucky slammed his lips on yours. The kiss, the contrast of cold and warmth on your skin, the everlasting longing for it to happen… All of this caused you to gasp, tangling the tunic at the height of his chest in your fists, not wanting him to take a step back. Your mouths fit perfectly without looking for it, made for each other, as he secured his fingers on the back of your neck. And you felt your knees weak when he pecked your lips one more time, before caressing your nose with his, not being able to open your eyes. Neither of you.

“I don’t have the right… to ask for anything”. He babbled. His insecurities coming afloat even if you hadn’t pushed him away. “But… I want you to stay here. With me. I… I don’t have much to offer you, but I promise to make you happy”.

At this point, your eyes were filled with tears, strongly closing your eyelids to not let them fall. You swallowed a sob, moving your hands from his chest to his middle back, embracing him tighter as you could.

“You’ve been making me happy since we met, Bucky”.

He chuckled breathless, intuiting he was too at the edge of his crying because of that affirmation.

“Every Tuesday, I wait at the stairs of my apartment for the mail, for your letters. I’ve… read them so many times I can recite them… by heart. Every word you've written to me”.

“I will continue writing them for you, even if you stay with me”.

Your voices were low, barely audible out of his place. Like secrets. Bucky kissed you again, bending enough to raise you by the back of your thighs and urge you to surround his waist with your legs. The dog tags on your chest clicked against the other, as you moved your arms to his shoulders and neck, and you were unable to stop kissing him. You two could die right now and not be bothered because you were finally together, and that was all you deserved in life.

“Tell me you will stay… please”. His beg brushed your lips, still pecking them between syllable and syllable.

“I will…” You replied without hesitating as you could, eager to correspond to every gesture from him. “I will stay with you”.

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it and/or reblog it.

tag list: @mystic-232 @homesicam @theresnoplatypus @i-love-scott-mccall @slutfornat @thewilloesapphire @goldielocks2004 @whatrambles @the-mystery-spot @multiyfandomgirl40 @purrrrfect @gemini0410 @nikkixostan @spidergirla5 @amethyst-butterfliess @mariska0610 @wanniiieeee @fanofalltheficsx @goldielocks2004 @spideysimpossiblegirl @nocturnalherb16 @jointhehunt67 @the-witty-pen-name @valenquei @golden-hoax @hunter-of-baker-street @missusstark

@mayans-sauce @peoniarose @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @skits90s @littlekittymeow @tenderclio @greeneyedblondie44 @phoenixhalliwell

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader

[bestiesenpai]

and there was only one bed! - Sukuna

Wow who would have guessed my first curse!Sukuna fic would be this? Not me lol so sorry if it sucks! Femme reader, everyone is aged up 18+

TW: dubcon, somnophilia, overstimulation, one (1) use of the word daddy, squirting

You and Yuji were great friends. Ever since he came to the school you were joined at the hip. Bugging Fushiguro, getting into crazy schemes with Inumaki and Panda - there was always something the two of you could get into together. Being so close throughout the years, it was only natural that the two of you would go on missions together as well as you got older. Spending a few days away from the school was all fun and games, and the added luxury of having your own private hotel rooms didn’t hurt either.

And the fun didn’t stop after you graduated, with Gojo still being in charge of booking your accommodations even though you’d been out of school for a while.

“Oh, so there’s only one bed this time…” Yuji mumbled as the two of you walked into the Airbnb that Gojo had booked for you. The house was nice enough, a quaint one bedroom on the edge of the city you were to be working in in the morning.

Through the open bedroom door you could see that there was indeed only one bed.

“I’ll sleep on the couch.” Yuji announced with a slight sigh under his breath.

“We’re here for three days, no way will that be comfortable.”

“Well I won’t let you sleep on the couch.”

“We can just share the bed then.” Taking his suitcase from him, you dragged it and your own towards the bedroom.

“No, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” Getting a hand on his luggage before you got too far, Yuji stared at you with narrowed eyes.

“Yuji, we’re best friends, it’ll be fine.” Swatting his hand away, you shuffled a little bit closer to the door. “We can put the couch pillows between us, plus look!” Getting into the room, you gestured towards the massive mattress. “This thing is huge anyway, we’ll have plenty of space to spread out!”

“Well…” Worrying his lip, Yuji looked between you and the bed. “Alright, but you have to tell me if you get uncomfortable.”

“Please, it’ll be fine.” You waved off his concern. There really was no reason to be nervous about anything; Yuji was a respectable guy and you knew he slept deeply anyway. The only real concern you had was if he would violently toss and turn like Fushiguro said he did.

Hours later and the sun was down, you and Yuji had both showered and were now climbing into bed. There was a good wall of pillows from the couch between you two, and Yuji had insisted over and over that you tell him if you weren’t comfortable.

“Goodnight bestie.” You giggled childishly, turning your back to him and closing your eyes.

“Night.” Yuji giggled as well and the two of you got quiet, taking slow and even breaths until you fell into a rhythm and went to sleep.

A few hours later, the feeling of hot breath on the back of your neck and something molding to your body from behind had just slightly roused you from sleep. Something was poking the spot right below your ear, forcibly quiet breathing just barely audible at the edge of your mind.

The sweat collecting on your skin from the heat of what you presumed to be Yuji’s body attempting to smother you in his sleep was beginning to drown you, and you threw the blanket off your chest to gain some reprieve.

Settling down again, you didn’t feel the hand creeping up your sleeping shirt and grabbing a handful of your breast. Deft fingers rolled your nipple as another hand slid across your hips and pulled you flush against another body.

Pushing past the band of your bottoms, the hand pushed your thighs apart slightly and dipped between your folds, slowly rubbing your clit. The pleasure was beginning to reach you and your unconscious body reacted in kind, rolling your hips against the friction and eager to get more.

What woke you up, however, wasn’t the slick gathering between your legs, it was the body beginning to crush you from behind.

“Yuji...roll over…” You slurred sleepily, attempting to push away the heavy arm that lay across your body. A deep, shuddering breath sounds in your ear, but the arm didn’t move. “Yuji, you’re crushin’ me.”

“Sorry baby.” A voice much deeper than Yuji’s replied, and a kiss was placed on the back of your neck as the pressure was released.

“S’okay.” Yawning softly, you were about to let sleep overtake you once again, and then the squeezing fingers on your breast got a little tighter, and laughter resonated behind you.

“Such an easy little thing, aren’t you?”

“Huh?” Rolled onto your back, you opened your eyes in time to be face to face with Sukuna. Your mouth opened to scream, but instead of a piercing cry, you began to choke; Sukuna had shoved two fingers into your mouth.

“Quiet now, don’t want to wake the neighbors.” Even in the low light of the bedroom, you could tell it was him. The voice, sharp nails attached to the fingers in your mouth and the overwhelming amount of cursed energy were enough.

Your clothes were ripped off in an instant, leaving you completely bare before him. Withdrawing his now wet fingers, Sukuna brought them down to your cunt, using the added lubrication from your saliva to push into you.

The stretch made you hiss between your teeth, the slight burning sensation that came with nearly completely edging out the pleasure you’d just been feeling a few moments ago. Sukuna sunk his fingers in halfway before withdrawing and beginning a languid stroke.

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t wake up.” He chuckled, using his other hand to go back to your breast.

“Stop!” Grabbing his wrist, you tried to pull it off but it was no use.

“Aw c’mon baby, don’t act that way! You were enjoying it a minute ago!” To punctuate his statement, Sukuna brought his thumb up to your clit and smirked when you jumped, your walls clenching around his fingers. “See, this pretty pussy seems to be enjoying it.”

“Sukuna let me go!” Your feeble cry was music to his ears and Sukuna nearly moaned at the sound. He could see the frantic desperation on your face mixing with the arousal that had seeped into your mind.

“But if I do then you won’t get to cum! And that wouldn’t be very nice, would it?” Letting go of your chest, he smacked his hand onto the pillow beneath your head and leaned over you. He kissed you before you could answer, his hand coming to wrap around the back of your head.

Shoving his tongue into your mouth, Sukuna overrode any thought you had in your brain. He was domineering, forcing your lips to stay locked with his as his tongue explored every inch of your mouth.

His other hand refused to lay idly and all it took was a few flicks of his wrist and a firm thumb pressed on your clit to get you to start whimpering into his mouth. Your knees knocked together at Sukuna’s sides, hands gripping his shoulders as he finger fucked you.

Sucking your tongue into his mouth, Sukuna pulled away slowly, thin strings of saliva connecting you two together before breaking off and dropping onto your chest. Sukuna kept his face close to yours, close enough that the breaths from your exasperated moans warmed his face.

“S-Sukuna stop-” You whined as you came, moaning pitifully as your cunt spasmed around his fingers.

“After that, I don’t think I can stop now.” Pulling his fingers out, Sukuna used two to rub your clit in tight circles, hurtling you into overstimulation and making tears prick at your lashes. Your knees pressed even harder into him as your thighs tried to squeeze together to get him to stop.

“It- it hurts- Sukuna!” Tossing your head back, another orgasm was forcibly brought forward. This one was edged with pain, and embarrassment slowly trickled in as your cunt clenched around nothing and you found yourself wishing his fingers were inside you again.

Smoothing his hands on your inner thighs, Sukuna smirked down at your spent form. Just watching your chest heave as you calmed down had his ego boosted. Reaching a hand down to fist his cock, he let out a shaky breath as a bead of precum dripped out and onto your skin.

“I’ve been waitin’ for this.” He mumbled, pushing your legs further apart so he could get closer.

“Wait, it won’t fit!” You didn’t know the size of Yuji’s cock, but you could tell it had been made much bigger by Sukuna’s appearance. Pushing your hands onto his chest, you couldn’t keep Sukuna at bay for very long.

“Don’t worry baby, daddy will make it fit.” The tip of Sukunas cock pushed into you as he spoke, the bulbous head already much thicker than his fingers. Your nails dug into his chest the further he went, nearly drawing blood as he slowly bottomed out.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Sukuna smirked, holding himself still to not only allow you to get used to the stretch but to bask in the moment as well. Forcing air through your lungs, it was a struggle to try and get used to the feeling of almost being split in half.

Sukuna clamped his hands on your hips as he slowly dragged his cock halfway out. Snapping forward, the light slap of skin against skin began to build in the room, muffled only by the light gasps leaving your mouth.

“S’too much!” You whined, screwing your eyes closed and shaking your head a little. “Too big, Sukuna- please-” Laughing under his breath, Sukuna pressed his fingers on your clit again, circling in time with his thrusts.

“You’re so whiny, baby, I bet you’ve never taken a cock this big before.” With every swipe of his thumb, he could feel you tighten up around him and the drag of his cock against your walls got easier.

Letting go of your hip, Sukuna slid his hand down your leg, hooking it under your knee and pushing it up toward your chest. The added angle allowed him to get deeper, practically hitting your cervix every time he pushed in.

You let out a loud, girlish squeal at the change and your hands scrambled to push against his lower stomach. The new position felt too good, immediately assaulting your senses with a toe curling pleasure.

“Sukuna, no!” The tips of your fingers pushed at him, stopping him a little short of completing a full thrust. Scoffing and rolling his eyes, Sukuna grabbed both your wrists in his hand, forcing your arms straight and keeping your hands away from him.

“Quit your whining, you can take it.” Pushing your knee down even further, Sukuna dug his knees into the mattress and slapped his hips against yours, ignoring any further squeals or whimpers.

Giving your wrists a bruising squeeze, he let go to grab your other leg and hike it up as well. He wouldn’t be stopped by the hands pushing against him, begging him to slow down or to change positions again.

“I’m gonna- Sukuna-” Your orgasm was building quickly, getting rid of any rational thought as pleasure shot up your spine and had nearly all the muscles in your body tightening up. You were so close to cumming, but there was another feeling behind it as well. “Sukuna stop, I’m gonna- pee!”

“Ha, you nasty girl. Go right ahead then.” Putting all his focus into his hips, Sukuna pounded into you, making sure you felt every inch of his cock. He nearly had you bent in half, his upper body leaning dangerously close to yours.

Whatever cries you had left were reduced to mindless babbles, overwhelmed tears threatening to fall as you came again. There was the rush of an orgasm coursing through you, making your cunt spasm and milk Sukuna for all he was worth.

But there was another feeling, one much more wet than you anticipated. With every forward thrust of Sukuna’s hips, a gush of liquid was forced out, coating everything within reach.

“Dirty girl, squirtin’ all over me like this.” Letting your knees fall back down to your sides, Sukuna pulled his cock out and stared down at his body, dripping with your release. “Even made a mess of the bed.” Sitting up on your elbow, you could see the dark stain forming on the bedsheets and feel the moisture begin to seep into your skin.

“M’not...not dirty.” Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, about as heavy as your head and you fall back down onto the bed, vaguely aware of some stray tears that have fallen onto your face.

“Yes you are.” Sukuna immediately counters, a sick smile on his face as he pushes his cock back inside you, a low whine emanating from the back of your throat at the stretch to your sensitive walls. “You’re my dirty girl, and we’re gonna have a fun three days together.”

#tw: dubcon #tw: somnophilia #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen scenarios

[hollandsmoose]

kiss me more

A/N: Kinda thought a lot about "Kiss Me More" by Doja Cat and SZA a lot when writing this. So here you go, my lads, here's 1.6k of basically just pure blowjob smut!

—————

The movie playing on the TV in Tom’s room is long forgotten, his lips on yours far more important right now. It had barely been on for ten minutes before his hand was up your shirt, his mouth on yours, and you were pinned underneath him. But, to be honest, it's what you expected to happen.

Freshly returned from filming in another country, Tom has barely let you leave his side. He's always been clingy after reuniting with you, but, this time, it's on a whole new level. You can hardly complain, though - not with the amount of times he's made you cum in the last week.

Sadly, all of that had to come to a temporary end. Your period made its arrival, and while you knew it was going to happen, it bummed you out nonetheless. So when Tom's hand glides down your front, toying with the waistband of your sweatpants, you're forced to pull away from his kiss.

"Tom…" you pant, breathless, and he gives you a somewhat worried look. "I'm on my period, remember?"

"Oh, shit, yeah," he says, exhaling rather deeply, and even though he tries to hide it, his disappointment is still clear. "I'll keep my hands to myself, then." He shifts a little when moving his hand up to rest beside your head, and as he does, you get to feel just how disappointed he is. His bulge, hard and firm, presses into your thigh, and it gives you an idea.

You may not really be able to get off right now, but that doesn't mean Tom can't. When he leans down to kiss you again, you gladly accept it. Your hand travels down to where his cock is straining against his sweats, palming him through the soft fabric, and you can't help but giggle when Tom helplessly moans into your mouth.

He breaks the kiss, his eyebrows raised. "What are you playing at, darling?"

You grin at him, offering a small shrug. "I just wanna make you feel good, Tommy," You emphasize your words by rubbing his bulge again, and he whines, unable to stop himself from grinding into the palm of your hand.

"But what about you?"

"It doesn't have to be about me," you say, placing a soft peck on his chin. "You've been loving on me all week. Let me love on you a little," He's just about to protest, but then you put your finger over his lips, shutting him up. "Let me make you feel good. Please?"

He hesitates for a moment, but then he nods and presses a kiss to the tip of your finger. You giggle, your heart fluttering, and Tom smiles at the sound of your laugh. After that, he rolls off you and lands on the mattress, the springs squeaking slightly at the movement.

You crawl down the bed and climb off it until you're kneeling on the floor at the foot end. You gently tug on his legs, and he gets the hint, shuffling down the length of the bed. Tom sits up, inhaling sharply at the sight of you on your knees for him, and enthusiastically helps you peel off his sweatpants and boxers. His cock springs up once it's freed from its confinement, hard and already leaking precum from the tip. You're just about to reach out to touch him when he interrupts.

"Wait!" Tom speaks out, and you halt instantly. "Can you… can you take your shirt off?" You snort at his request. You'd actually been worried about him for a second there. Nevertheless, you pull your T-shirt over your head, rolling your eyes at the way he ogles your chest, now only covered by a bra. “That’s my girl.”

With a smile, you finally touch him. You spread the precum over his tip, and Tom sucks in a breath, his thighs clenching and his cock twitching. Teasing him is always fun. He lets out a strangled whimper when you withdraw your hand and spit in the palm of it, well aware of what's going to happen now. His hands grip the edge of the mattress as you finally grasp his length, and you quite enjoy the groan that escapes him.

You start with slow strokes, warming him up gently, and the way he bites his lip to hold back a moan has your pussy clenching around nothing. Fuck, he looks good. You watch Tom intently as he reacts to your touch, and it makes you giggle when you see just how quickly he gets worked up, his cheeks pink and his breath labored. You've always had that effect on Tom, but, to be fair, he's always had the same effect on you too. Even his mere touch is enough to send you into overdrive.

When he releases that telltale, drawn-out whine you know so well, you remove your hand from him. He's getting close, and this isn’t the way you want him to cum. And just when Tom’s about to complain, you lean in further and place a little kiss on his tip, and the words die on his lips.

You begin by just giving him a few kitten licks, but it's enough to make him gasp your name, and you suspect that this really won't take long at all. You rest your hands on his thick thighs, caressing the firm muscles softly. In all honesty, you've lost count of just how many times you've fallen apart on his thighs.

Feeling yourself get distracted, you try and shake off your thoughts so you can get back to business. Back on track, you make your tongue travel up from the base of him, and his cock twitches delightfully when you swirl the tip of your tongue around the head. You're teasing Tom again at this point, and it is a bit unfair, to be honest, but it's fun to watch how desperate he gets. Maybe, if the situation was different, he'd scold you for teasing him like this and leave your ass bruised and sore as punishment, but the ball seems to be in your court today.

"Please, darling," he begs, impatient and needy. "Please just… do something."

"You're gonna have to be more specific than that, Tommy," you say with a voice you barely recognize. It's low and seductive, but it makes you feel quite powerful. "Tell me what you want."

He exhales shakily. "I want… I want your mouth on me… on my cock. Please, love?"

You shrug rather smugly. "Well, since you asked so nicely…"

And then you finally give him what he wants. With a deep breath, you take Tom in your mouth. His reaction is instant, his thighs jerking slightly under your touch, and your name falls from his lips in a moan. Your hand wraps around the base of his cock and moves in sync with your mouth, knowing that that's just how he likes it. You go slow and steady; you don't want Tom to topple over the edge just yet.

His hands are still gripping the mattress, his knuckles white, and you know he's trying his hardest not to buck into your mouth. Tom never wants to hurt you - at least, never without your consent. And while you do let him fuck your mouth from time to time, it's not what you want today.

But, as a treat, you pull away from him for a second, inhaling deeply before you wrap your lips around him again and take him as far as you can. When the tip of his cock touches the back of your throat, he practically shouts out a string of profanities, and it's so loud that you're sure the others in the house must've heard. It doesn't matter much to you right now, though. Let them hear.

You're fighting off your gag reflex, trying to breathe through your nose, and tears are forming in your eyes, but Tom looks so pretty that you don't give up just yet. So you keep your head where it is until he, rather unwillingly, pulls you up himself.

He's completely breathless, needing a few seconds before he can even speak. "Babe, I'm… I'm close," You can't help but smile when you hear just how affected he is.

You appreciate Tom's warning, returning to your previous tactic, your lips around the head of him and your hand jerking the base. His one hand lets go of the mattress and caresses your cheek instead, and when you look up to make eye contact, Tom's staring at you with such a wonderful mixture of lust and love that it makes both your pussy and your heart melt a little.

He gasps in that special way you've picked up on by now, and you know what's about to happen. Drawing back a little, you rest the tip of his cock on the tip of your tongue, and, with one last jerk of your hand, he finally gets to cum.

Tom curses uncontrollably as he paints your tongue white, his hand now holding your jaw in place. His head is leant back, his eyes screwed shut, and his mouth is half-open. He looks absolutely beautiful.

You watch him as he slowly comes down from his high, his eyes blinking open and finding your face immediately. And Tom watches you as you swallow his cum and put on a little show for him, licking your lips for any leftovers.

"Fucking hell," he says, completely overwhelmed, and falls back against the bed, and you laugh, satisfied with your work. You crawl onto the bed as well, settling on top of him. "You're gonna be the death of me, darling."

—————

taglist: @spideycents @linanilssonfurberg @to-the-road @hallecarey1 @harryhollandsgirlfriend

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #tom holland x reader #thomas stanley holland #this was not proof-read by anything other than grammarly lmao #so sorry if it's a bit shit

[slashbitch2]

The Very Nosy Neighbour

this fic was 100% inspired by this one here , but I mean it practically wrote itself I couldn't resist

NSFW

You can't remember much past waking up in an unfamiliar room- though 'room' is really a sugarcoated description, as in reality it qualifies more as some kind of cavern. You're sitting in a chair, ankles and wrists bound by an indistinguishable material. Whatever the binds are made of feels strong, so any attempts to struggle against it are futile. Yet, in spite of what really should be an extremely stressful situation, you find yourself completely relaxed. You briefly wonder whether you've been drugged, but with every sense feeling fully operational, that theory is soon dismissed.

Instead of choosing a more logical response to the circumstances you've found yourself in, you decided to focus more on your surroundings: not to form any resemblance of an escape plan, but simply out of curiosity. Although, the investigation is equally as ineffective. You're unable to name anything around you except for stone walls, strange (glowing?) vines and weird symbols carved above a few archways. Everything beyond that is either entirely lost to you, or shrouded in darkness.

With little else to do, you start to think back on the events that led you there, trying to glean any useful information from the blurry memories. The clearest image, therefore the most recent, is the smirking face of a woman, Agnes you realise. Though the malicious glint in her eyes doesn't quite match your perception of the nosy neighbour. But where is she now? Is she also in danger? You may not have known Agnes for very long, but are reluctant to let any harm come to her regardless.

With a clearer head, you consider calling for help, but a small voice at the back of your subconscious warns you against this. And the voice sounds smart, so you elect to listen to it. But what should you do instead? Where did this voice come from? And most importantly, should you trust it? Luckily, you aren't given much time to overthink the decision.

While trying to tune into this voice, footsteps echo in the distance, gradually drawing nearer. You hold your breath as the sound suddenly stops, leaving your eyes scanning the vicinity for any movement. The unpleasant reality dawns on you all too quickly: the footsteps were approaching from behind you.

“Well, well, well.” Someone says playfully, then snorts as they start walking closer. "Sorry to be a total cliché. I couldn't resist." It's Agnes. She narrows her eyes and smirks, folding her arms as she examines your constrained form. Subjected to her scrutiny, you find yourself swallowing, but your throat is too dry. Other small discomforts also become noticeable; your cramped limbs, aching back and the bruises on your hands. Well at least you put up a fight. The more rational part of you, however, realises that your hands are no longer bound. You stare down at them, flexing each finger as if checking they were all still fully functional.

Something suddenly knocks into your head and you grimace. Left reeling from the impact, you realise that you're slightly nauseated. Though not enough to stop you from reaching out to grasp the floating cup of water. The fact that the glass is suspended in mid-air doesn't go unnoticed, rather ignored, since there's too much happening simultaneously to comprehend any of it in sufficient detail. You swirl the liquid round, hesitant to drink, unwilling to trust your captor's apparent mercy.

"Drink up, dear." Agnes drags a chair forward, which seems to have just appeared out of thin air. She sits backwards on it, legs spread and arms resting on the back casually. "That's all you're getting until we're done here." The tone of her voice is both threatening and teasing. You're reluctant to admit it's quite a turn on.

One glance up at her prying expression and you relent, downing the chilled water way too quickly. Though you aren't given a chance to mourn your impatience, as with an effortless wave of her hand, Agnes refills the glass. While you sip at the water, she refuses to tear her eyes away from you for even a second. It's slightly disconcerting.

“Now," She claps her hands, startling you. "I assume you know why you’re here?”

“Not really.” You confess, unable to pinpoint why anyone would go to so much effort to kidnap you, especially Agnes, who up to this point had been an eccentric yet kind neighbour.

She sighs, more for show than anything else, and rubs at her temple. "Come on Y/N, let's not play dumb now."

Embarrassingly, a heat begins to pool deep in your gut, but you quickly dismiss the unwarranted lust. "I don't know what you mean."

"Oh really?" She quirks an eyebrow, sitting upright. "You really have no idea?" The inquiry is ridiculing, and you can see that your naivety is starting to annoy her.

All you can do is shake your head and pray the sincerity is reflected in your eyes.

"Okay." She slams her hands down on her thighs. "I guess we'll have to go about this the hard way then, toots." A sharp gesture and your hands are bound before you once again.

By the time you're looking up, she's striding toward you with purpose, which does nothing to ease the building heat between your legs. Her hands clasp on the armrests either side, essentially trapping you, not like escape would've been possible without the extra precaution. Up close you finally recognize this isn't Agnes- in fact it never has been. There's a feral yet wise appearance to her, the facade of nosy neighbour dissolved in an instance to be replaced by a deranged, frighteningly powerful woman (or witch, you're undecided).

Despite your better judgement, you're unable to stop yourself from asking. "Who are you?" Your voice barely breaches a whisper, but she's standing close enough that nothing less intimate is required.

She looks mildly impressed, the corner of her mouth twitching almost indiscernibly. "Agatha Harkness." She extends a hand, smirking upon realisation that you're a little too tied up at the minute to reciprocate. "Lovely to meet you."

You swallow again, finding your throat to be a little less dry. "Likewise." Then decide to take another risk. "So what do you want from me?"

“Wanda's true identity.” She replies so quickly that you almost miss it, looking at you with an eagerly expectant expression.

Agatha's question confuses you further. “I don’t know what you mean.” Although your answer is honest, something at the back of your mind hisses lies.

"There's no need to lie here." Her patient humour had disappeared. "Trust me, no one will hear you, so drop the act."

For some unbeknown reason, her accusation angers you. "I'm not putting on an act, I don't know why I'm here or what you want from me." The bravery dissipates all of a sudden as you remember that you're not exactly in the position to command such authority. "Please, stop this."

Agatha purses her lips, stands up and turns away from you. She calmly moves forwards a few paces, and in the short amount of time you manage to convince yourself that she's given up. Until in a completely unprovoked move, she swings her hands to the left, sending her chair crashing into the wall in frustration. Whether this is part of her interrogation performance or not, it works. Your heart starts racing, and confusingly, the awkward heat between your legs pulses.

She runs a hand through her hair, still facing away from you. "Don't make this any harder harder than it needs to be." You can practically hear her grinding her teeth, but don't doubt that she was getting some enjoyment out of the situation.

"I can tell you that Wanda is my sister and only real family, that I moved to Westview with her and that I couldn't live without her." You start listing off some basic facts, desperate to prove to Agatha that nothing is hidden. That you're normal.

"What about your brother?" She swivels round, clicking her fingers as she tries to recall something. "Pietro!" She exclaims.

"Pietro..." You falter. Why does the name sound so familiar? The nausea worsens. You shake off the feeling. "Never heard of him."

“Liar.” In one swift movement, Agatha is right by your ear. The feeling of her lips brushing against your skin causes you to close your eyes. The close proximity was becoming overwhelming, and your body had chosen to react in a rather unfortunate way. Admittedly, you'd always had a thing for Agnes, but Agatha was on a whole other level. You dreaded to open your eyes, worried that she'd noticed your current state. Instead, you internally begged for mercy.

“Don't go all shy on me now.” She pushes your shoulder into the chair, compelling you to open your eyes. "If you don't want to talk, I have other methods." Her hand raises, a purple flow emanating from the tips of her fingers. It crackles and sparks, as if the power was barely contained, yet as she shifts closer to brush the hair out of your face, you don't flinch. One finger remained touching your forehead, then traced down to your jaw, and finally along to grasp your chin.

While the vaguely sinister movement terrified you, it also forced you hold your breath and grip onto the armrests for dear life. Why you'd decided this was hot was beyond you considering the many connotations of her words, yet your thighs pressed tighter together as she drew closer. You attempted to turn your head to the side, longing for distraction, but her hold on you kept your head still.

"This won't be much fun for you, dear." She sighed in mock pity, her breath hot against your skin... Which just tipped you over the edge. As hard as you tried to stifle the noise, a broken moan escaped your lips. You'd definitely hit a low point here. Too ashamed to face your apparent arousal, you screwed your eyes shut. Although, at Agatha's silence, you relented and opened them barely a minute later.

To your relief, or perhaps dismay, the woman was grinning like a maniac. Her eyes flickered down to your parted lips as she chewed on her own. Then carefully, as if she were testing the waters, her fingers began to rub against your jaw, and upwards to your mouth. Your breath deceives you by hitching as her thumb slips between your lips, stroking your tongue. At the contact, you can't help but arch into the touch. Agatha chuckles.

"I take it back." She murmurs, removing her hand. "This will be fun." Although the intimidation factor prevails, there's a certain desire mirrored in Agatha's expression which cancels out any remaining common sense. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, and even if you wanted to, there was little you could do to stop her. So, you give into your yearning, sighing as she climbs to sit on your lap. Immediately, her hand switches to gripping the back of your neck as she slams her mouth onto yours. You willingly indulge by opening further, allowing her tongue to slide between your lips. Her other hand lowers to grab at your chest, like she were trying to tug herself impossibly closer.

Without removing her lips, the hand massaging your chest shifts to your thigh. She still keeps her lips firmly pressed to yours, and with the lack of oxygen, you can feel yourself growing lightheaded. It almost feels like a challenge, one which you're determined to succeed at. Though when she eventually does break away, her hand suddenly slips between your thighs, and your breath is stolen from you once more. Wasting no time, she massages you through your clothes, dragging out an inevitable whine. The touch is both too much, and not enough. But judging by her malevolent smirk, that was exactly her intention.

Even though you were currently incapable of producing any reasonable thought, you still noticed that Agatha wasn't entirely unaffected. Her breathing was laboured, hips occasionally jerking against your thigh and eyes struggling to stay open. The influence you were having on her only encouraged you to moan louder, craving to see her equally dishevelled. Your plan seemed to momentarily fail as her hand retreated. But you'd certainly earned her attention.

She licks her lips, then abruptly changes her expression to look disturbingly like that of Agnes. "You wouldn't leave me out of the fun now, would you dear?" Her voice is high pitched as she basically sings her words. Although the question must've been rhetorical as doesn't await a response, instead you find your hands unbound, flung behind your back and bound together all in a matter of seconds. Then, she shifted her position, yanking your bodies closer so that your crotches were pressed together. She grunts, heaving forward to rest against you for a moment and regain her composure. And finally, without warning, starts to grind your hips together.

It doesn't take long for her movement to become more frantic, accompanied by her hair spilling onto her face. She remains impressively quiet, however, or perhaps you were just comparably loud. With the little pride you have left, you decide to take matters into your own hands, and start meeting each thrust with equal vigour. Miraculously, it works. She throws her head back with a remarkably loud moan, proceeded by change in strategy as she starts almost bouncing on top of you, hips losing their rhythm, pleasure overwhelming her. Startled by her lack of self-control, the heat in your stomach begins building exponentially fast. Your eyes slam shut.

A hand grasps onto your face. “Look at me!” She growls, then emphasises her demand by rolling her hips torturously slowly. The movement ceases. She leans her forehead against yours, staring directly into your eyes. “Come with me.” To your surprise, there's an audible plea in her voice.

At a loss for words, you nod. The pleasure had been building for so long that you knew it'd only take a few more grinds to push you over the edge. With your confirmation, Agatha resumes her thrusting, though soon succumbs, throwing her head back and uttering an exceptionally loud, high-pitched moan. She arches her back, pressing herself so far into you that the pleasure peaks. You groan, lurching backwards in a moment of pure bliss. All you can feel is Agatha, all you can think about is Agatha. Coming down from the high, you sigh and collapse forward to bury your face in the crook of her neck.

She tenses slightly at the contact, but soon relaxes into the strange embrace. You gently press your lips against her skin and feel her shiver, confirming your suspicion that it'd been a while since Agatha had received such affection. Motivated by a new, more innocent desire, you continue to pepper light kisses across her throat and behind her ear, simply enjoying the unexpectedly intimate moment.

Agatha finally breaks the silence, leaning away from your touch to look down at you curiously. "Wanda really has you under her mind control too, huh?"

Although still stuck in a post-coital haze, you muster enough brainpower to consider her words. "Mind control?"

"Oh, right." She smirks, a slight sadness perceptible in her eyes. "Forgot to mention." Before you can say anything, she swings one leg to the side, stiffly sliding off your lap and clasping her hands together. "You might want to reconsider where your loyalties lie, dear." She glances at you, then ambles to the opposite side of the room. "That's one fucked up family situation right there." Her voice teasingly calls out.

You feel yourself flush, strangely offended by her comment, and annoyed by her vagueness. "Like you can talk." Your response is a total shot in the dark, but must've hit a nerve since she slowly turns back to you, a suspicious expression upon her face. "Just a guess." You add, unwilling to know the details of whatever sensitive topic you'd just touched upon. Agatha easily shrugs it off, leaving behind a stifling silence. Eventually, it's a mixture of your own boredom and concern that prompts you to end the lull in conversation. "Are you still planning on interrogating me about something I know nothing about?"

"Oh, no I read your mind." She waves a dismissive hand over her shoulder. "Got all I needed."

Again, you're left suffocating in the confusion her ambiguity provokes, with nothing else to ask except. "How...?"

The inquiry must've been exactly what Agatha wanted to hear as she immediately dropped what she was doing to turn around and lean on the wall, arms folded in a casually smug pose. "Sex leaves you vulnerable." She smirked. "All I did was take advantage of the opportunity- but I'll spare you the boring details." With a flourish of her hand and a flash of purple, the binds holding your ankles and wrists disappeared. "You can go now. First door on the left."

Without sparing you another glance, she busied herself with some witchy task, allowing you to see yourself out. Massaging your wrists, you stood slowly, watching her expectantly. Surely she wouldn't just let you leave? Yet as you sauntered over to the door she'd directed you to, she made no move to stop you. "Bye then?"

Agatha looked up at you and winked. "See you around, neighbour."

#agatha harkness x reader #agnes x reader #agatha harkness

[getheeheed]

I finished the stupid Neloth fic, @otvlanga come get your man, fellow rat wizard enjoyer. It's an x reader, and I used they/them for the character. I don't write often, so popping out almost two thousand words seems like a lot to me lol, and it's definitely a little sloppy. I had fun writing it tho and at the end of the day that's all that matters to me. Not Safe For Work stuff under cut, if I'm missing any warnings let me know and I'll add them as soon as I can.

Warnings: nsfw, voyeurism (slight), kind of graphic anal sex

All he wanted was a damn bath. Everyone seemed extremely adamant on getting on his nerves today, more so than usual, so what better idea to help him relax than a nice, hot bath, right? Wrong. You see, Neloth had forgotten one small detail, and it went by the name of [name]. And that little detail was currently occupying his bathtub, not even paying any mind to the fact that someone had entered the room. So there he was, standing in his bath robes, staring at the Dovahkiin, naked as the day they were born, going about washing themself, and the poor elf just couldn't look away. He knew, deep down, that it was wrong, that he should've immediately turned and walked in the opposite direction, but at that moment he didn't really care. Instead, he settled on closing the door behind him, and, as quietly as he could, lower himself to sit on a stool, eyes still fixed on the figure before him.

They seemed truly relaxed, something Neloth had never known them to be, as they dragged the sponge along their arms, carefully going over any new scratches or cuts and coating them in a thin sheet of soapy bubbles, slowly scrubbing the dirt and grime away. It was kind of fascinating, really, watching them twist and turn, trying to reach every spot on their back, but they got it eventually. Going from their back to the front of their torso, he felt a bit disappointed when they moved the sponge down, where the bathtub blocked his vision. So he settled, instead, for how the light reflected off their damp chest, until they lifted a leg up, making all the harder to access areas available for both their sponge and his eyes. He was enchanted, leaning forward to rest his chin on his knuckles, from the way their hand was moving up and down and up and down their calf, and then onto the next leg, repeating the movements. They then put the sponge down and took a cup in their hand, filling it with water and rinsing themselves, putting it down when they were done and getting up.

They reached for a small towel, drying their hair and face with it, then throwing it around their shoulders, and finally stepped out of the bathtub, dripping water on the floor. Neloth now had a view of, well, everything. The multiple scars adorning the Dovahkiin's body, their muscles flexing and contracting as they moved to grab a bigger towel to dry themselves off, starting with their arms, then moving down to their legs. The elf followed the movements, trained eyes making note of every single detail on their torso, moving down to where a dragon's jaws had left quite the scar on their abdomen, and right below that lay their- "Neloth?" The elf froze, quickly shooting up. Both stood there, dumbfounded for a second, one person left with a slightly open mouth, the other clutching a towel just above their knees.

"I…. I don't have an excuse." "No, you don't," [name] said plainly, lifting the towel to wrap it around their torso, taking note that Neloth's gaze still lingered downward for a bit, before turning to look up, "An explanation, maybe?". Neloth thought for a second, opening his mouth to speak, then immediately closing it, shaking his head and frowning. "No, I can't seem to find one," he said, still searching his mind for a crumb of reason behind his actions, when the other person took a step towards him, "What are you doing?" "I should be asking you that, you're the one that was watching me at my most vulnerable, and then offered no explanation whatsoever."

They were pushing, adding to the ever so growing tension between them. It had been there since the start, but now it was most unbearable. Neloth was (both literally and metaphorically) against a wall, he had to break sooner or later. "I- well- I don't-" Their bodies were inches apart. "I mean, if you had asked, I would have let you join." Silence. Did they push too far? Had they crossed the line? Their mind almost didn't register the hands grabbing at their hips, the small distance between their bodies closed, mouth pressing, no, more like crashing on theirs. The tension finally broke, and they kissed back with all they had, one hand coming to rest on his nape, the other sliding in his robes and up along his back, pulling him as close as possible.

He was sloppy in his movements, having not touched another person this way in over a century can do that to someone, but his enthusiasm and teasing hands made up for it. Well, not really. The teasing was maddening, the way his hands massaged up and down their sides, the small bites on their lips as they kissed, it drove them insane, so they retaliated by moving a hand to rest on his ass and placing their lips to his neck, nipping and sucking until they found the spot that made him moan. His hand immediately shot up to stifle the sound, but it was already out, and the Dragonborn pulled away to look at him with a smug expression. "I usually hate it when you're loud, but, I don't think I mind this". He glared daggers at them before shifting them so that their back was against the door, yanking their towel off in the process, and going on to give them the same treatment, with a few additions.

While his mouth was busy with their neck, his hands went down to hoist their legs up to his waist, grinding his hips on theirs. They threw their head back, hitting the door, a long moan drawn from their throat as they moved their hips with his, throwing their hands to his chest to claw at his robes. "Gods… Neloth, please…" they breathed out and he suddenly stopped, snapping out of his trance when he realized they were still in the bathroom, "Not here, come on".

Neloth practically dragged them to his room as fast as he could, lest someone else lay eyes upon his Dragonborn. As soon as the door closed, he crashed his mouth on theirs again, hands roaming their naked frame, slowly moving them towards the bed. Their hands worked fast, undoing his robes and helping him shrug them off, revealing his toned body as well as his already hardened cock, then pulling him down with them on the mattress. "[Name]... what did you do?" he managed to ask through kisses, "What do you mean?" "I haven't been able to finish a single project in the past three months, all because of you," he kissed the corner of their mouth, "every time I try to focus you creep into my thoughts," he moved to their jaw, "when someone mentions you my breath seems to hitch," he nipped their neck, "you must've slipped something in my tea when I wasn't looking or cast a hex or- I don't know, what did you do you little-" "Neloth." He turned to look at them, "What." "Shut the fuck up." And with that, they took his face in their palms and slipped their tongue in his mouth, soliciting a deep groan from the elf.

His hand shot out to the side, scrambling to open a drawer on his nightstand and retrieving a vial containing a questionable liquid, as well as a towel. "What's that?" "Lubricant," he replied, pulling the cork off and pouring some in his palm, "turn around, on your knees. Oh, and put this under you, will you?" he handed them the towel and they complied, confused, if a bit curious to see what would happen next. Once they were in place, he set the vial down, rubbing his hands together and gently massaging their ass, thumb brushing over their hole, making them gasp. "Take a deep breath," he said before slowly pushing a middle finger in, drawing out a long moan from the [race] and getting them to arch their back. "So needy, we've barely even started," it was his turn to be smug and they didn't even get to reply before he started moving the finger inside them, grazing their insides and adding another one, now scissoring them open. The whole time they were gasping and writhing under his grasp, trying to keep quiet in fear of being found out, and he added a third and final digit, slowly preparing them for what was to come before removing everything, making them whine at the loss.

"Sweet gods, Neloth, please…" the Dovahkiin groaned out, desperation quite evident in their voice, "Would it kill you to be a bit more patient?" Neloth questioned, taking the vial in his hand again and pouring out a generous amount, slicking his cock and positioning himself over the [race]. He placed his tip at their entrance, making them shudder, before pushing it in with an exhale, pausing to get a better hold of their hips before pushing himself in entirely, drawing out long moans from the both of them. Neloth gave them a few seconds to adjust to the feeling, and let the pain recede a bit, before he started slowly moving in and out, grinding his hips against their ass, cock never moving entirely out yet always pushing in to the hilt.

The Dragonborn groaned and writhed under him, a bit overwhelmed from the sensation, but they certainly weren't complaining, and as Neloth picked up the pace a little more they were gasping and moaning out in pleasure. Soon he had them screaming out his name, his hips snapping forward to thrust inside them deeper and harder, and it wasn't long until they came. Neloth himself wasn't that far behind, with one final thrust he released inside them with a loud moan, thick cum coating their insides, some spilling out and on the towel as he pulled himself out. When he was finished, he procured a smaller towel from the nightstand, cleaning himself and the Dragonborn best he could and putting the dirtied towels away, and laid down, pulling them with him in his arms, their back against his chest. They were both panting and covered in sweat, his skin was pleasantly warm against theirs, they noted. He also seemed softer, more relaxed than they knew him to be. Turning around in his arms, they wrapped theirs around his torso and placed their forehead against his chest. He pulled the covers over them and held them closer, kissing the top of their head. It was strange, coming from him, but they didn't mind, it was a nice change.

"We should probably have showered before crawling under the bed," they remarked, closing their eyes, "Probably. But I'm tired". "That's new," they replied, "Oh, shut up." And with that, they slept. When morning came, Varona was very puzzled as to why Neloth hadn't yelled for her yet, until she found the Telvanni in his bed, the Dragonborn in his arms, dead asleep for the first time in years. She let them be, making sure to warn Talvas not to enter the room, before setting off to make some canis root tea for when the elf awoke.

#my stupid writing #skyrim x reader #neloth x reader #dunmer #neloth #telvanni #tesblr #tes #skyrim

[ditch-witches]

asa butterfield x reader

request: wasn’t requested, but we wrote this in march and decided to post. we’re opening our inbox to other actors and characters, so feel free to send us a request :)

warnings: mentions of sex (slight), crude language, a family gathering

word count: ~2000

Your grandmother threw open her front door, hair in curlers to match her fuzzy pink slippers. Her face brightened at the sight of you, yet once her eyes fell to Asa it was like you were last year's ham. She nearly hooted in excitement before throwing her arms around him and dragging him inside, Asa’s face furrowing as he looked back at you. You smirked slightly, hanging your jacket on the already full coat tree by the door and kicking off your shoes before meandering through her gigantic house in search of your boyfriend. There were various cousins sprawled out around her living room and hanging out of the archway to the kitchen while watching whatever sport was on TV. 

You furrowed your brows at the group and half of them pointed down the hallway where a round of hollering and an old crackly radio was sounding off. You nodded and moved in the direction they sent you, turning a few corners before going through the sliding glass door in the back, spotting Asa being shown off to several of your uncles from different generations and your older cousins by your small grandmother. You sighed, coming out from behind them and capturing the attention of the group who greeted you with smiles and a few pinches on the arm. The stereotypical conversation questions were thrown around briefly: How is school? How’s the job? Are you hungry? 

Some of the guys were talking to Asa and shaking his hand a ridiculous amount until you finally had enough. “Oma, maybe you should go get ready?” You suggested, finally taking hold of Asa’s arm to pull him from her grasp. She inhaled sharply as if forgetting she was walking around in a housecoat while her guests continued to fill her house. You were sure Asa would already be overwhelmed, him being whisked off was not what you had expected, but he remained smiling, talking to whoever started conversations with him. You couldn’t really believe it but Asa was prospering. 

Before you knew it, the two of you were sat beside each other at a long table of most of your cousins, separate from the massive group of adults, passing food amongst yourself and talking over the polka music that seemed to always be playing from the radio in the living room. You leaned over to Asa as he passed you a basket of rolls. “Are you all right?” You whispered, passing the food again. 

He smiled at you slightly, his icy blue eyes seemingly lighting up even more. “Never better. Relax, okay?” He mumbled, sending you a wink. You hadn’t realized how tensed up you were as you dropped your shoulders at his words. If you weren’t surrounded by family members, you would have kissed him. The meal went on without ripples, listening to how people were doing in school and sitting through several of the members of the family closer to your age tell embarrassing stories about yourself to Asa like it had happened last week, not when you were three and still wearing Garanimals. 

“You’re Asa, right?” One of your middle school aged cousins asked from across the table. She put her chin in her hand, her makeup more intricate than you ever could master. He shook his head hesitantly. “You’re probably so good you don’t use protection. Am I right?” Her almost seductive glance and question made you choke on your water and Asa’s mouth dropped open a bit as the man beside her cackled heavily. 

“Oh, my God,” you breathed. “You can’t say that,” you hissed and she shrugged. 

Her eyes trailed him from across the table. “I don’t hear a ‘no’.” 

You groaned, telling Asa to ignore her through gritted teeth. “You should always use protection,” he answered instead, attempting to hold back his own laugh as you kicked him under the table, sending the man next to her into even greater fits of laughter. 

“Are you staying at oma’s tonight?” Another asked, thankfully one that hadn’t heard the previous topic. 

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, debating if it was too late to get a hotel. “No, I haven’t drawn a card yet…” You mumbled, trying not to alert Asa beside you. 

Your actions were for nothing as he piped up. “What is drawing a card?” 

At his question, several of the cousins attempted to answer at once, urging you to let him be the one to draw this time and you shook your head. “My grandmother has a deck of cards that have locations written on them and whenever there’s a family gathering, you draw a card to figure out where you’re staying. It’s because my dad’s generation all fought over who was staying with Uncle Mike,” you answered, closer to his ear to combat the several voices. “But we should just get a hotel room-” 

“That’s breaking the rules and you know it!” Another cousin yelled, pointing his fork at you. 

You shook your head. “You’re a grown ass man and you still want a shot at staying with Uncle Mike?” You almost snapped, making him shrug. 

“You’re just pissed because you never get it!” He snapped back. 

You shook your head almost dramatically. “What if I didn’t want to stay with Uncle Mike?” 

“Liar!” 

“I like staying with oma!” 

He sent you a sarcastic smile as if to call your bullshit. “Fine then, we’re taking bets on who has to sleep in the tent.” 

You had almost forgotten Asa was there until he piped up. “I have ten on you then,” he quipped and your heart slightly fluttered at him as your cousin pointed to him, leaning over the table aggressively to shake Asa’s hand as the other cousins began saying it was other people. One got up to grab an old pad of paper to take down the bets and you pinched the bridge of your nose between your index finger and thumb. Asa was loving every minute of this. 

After dinner, half of your great uncles were passed out on the couch and your grandmother was shuffling her beat up deck of cards, long past the date it should have been retired. Your heart began to beat slightly, the adrenaline rushing through you as you thought about the bets that were made and the possibility of having to sleep outdoors. You sat on the couch, watching closely as the deck was brought around, shuffled and fanned out for each of the kids. Meanwhile Asa leaned his elbows on his knees, playing Cat’s Cradle with one of your younger cousins. Your leg rested against his as you focused on the cards, maybe it wasn’t the chance that you would have to sleep in a beat up old tent, but rather the rush of competition. So far, most of the spaces in the upper level of your grandma’s house had been taken as well as the spots in your cousin’s. Uncle Mike’s had yet to be completely claimed and the tent still hung in the air. 

The deck came towards you, your grandmother swooping down slightly for the cousin that was entranced by the string game. She drew a card: the top bunk of one of many stacked beds at Uncle Mike’s. Her older brother cheered, knowing that you now had an even bigger chance of getting the tent. The deck was offered to Asa, your grandmother raising an eyebrow. “No, I don’t trust him,” you quickly stated, ignoring his sarcastically hurt expression. The deck was turned to you. “I love you, but you have some of the worst luck.” Your mind raced at what was left and then you realized that Asa would be sleeping with you. Then you prayed to whatever higher being could help you to not give you an upper floor. “We have a lot riding on this,” you muttered as she fanned the cards for you. You drew your card, quickly turning it over and snapping it around towards your cousins who all groaned at the fluent, swirling writing your grandma was known for. 

“Are you kidding!” 

“How?” 

“Fuck! I could have bought a ton of M&M’s with that money.” 

Your grandma whipped around to the last cousin to speak, yanking on his ear quickly and hissing, “Halt deinen Mund!” He put his hands up in defense looking at her with wide eyes and you smirked. 

“Yeah, Halt deinen Mund,” you mocked and she snapped her fingers at you, making you close your mouth quickly before she moved on. You all broke out into a fit of giggles silently, relieved that no one had the tent yet. The one who made the bet with Asa was who you hoped would get it, in all honesty. You finally let out a breath, relaxing completely. 

You snuggled into your seat, crossing your legs and throwing an arm around the section of the back of the couch where Asa was sitting. He leaned back, tucking under your arm slightly, raising an eyebrow in your direction. “And where did we get?” 

You handed him the card. “Oma’s back basement room. There’s a waterbed, but other than that, it’s a win.” 

He chuckled, flipping the card between his long fingers. “That could be fun,” he whispered slightly and you pushed his face away with your hand as he laughed. As the party died down enough that people were heading to their designated spots or out back to set piles of leaves on fire, you and Asa grabbed your bags and headed through the maze of a house to your room for the night and possibly the next. It really depended on how much Asa could actually take of your family. 

Your room was just off the retro bar that was always used around the winter holidays. You thanked whoever was looking out for you up above as you threw your bags down on one of the dated couches and peaked into the newly renovated bathroom. “So, how are you feeling?” You asked, putting your hands on your hips as he slipped his sweater over his head and readjusting his t-shirt. 

“I’m exhausted,” he stated, biting back a wide grin before plopping down into the middle of the bed, it sloshed around under his movements and he giggled slightly before laying back. You perked an eyebrow. “I’m ready. Fuck me on a waterbed,” he jeered, smirking up at you. 

He tucked his arms beneath his head, and you sent him a tilted expression. “You are so strange.”

#asa butterfield #asa butterfield x reader #asa butterfield imagine #asa butterfield fluff #sex education #otis milburn #otis milburn x reader #miss peregrines home for peculiar children #jake portman #jake portman x reader

[opheliasbrokenmind]

lucky - will graham

that’s what i do when i have an important upcoming exam because i have no self-discipline... well someone’s gotta do what they gotta do, right? i hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing and please please let me know what you think!! i got the idea from a fight i had with my sister recently -yeah i use shitty things that happened to me in my stories-

feel free to send me an ask for will, his character is so fun, and also painful, to write. GIF CREDITS TO THE OWNER, it’s an amazing one 

The cold breeze caused you to shiver as you walked to the house, it seemed like it was in the middle of the nowhere, as it was somewhere special only you knew. A shelter for me to hide from the real world, you thought and smiled with the idea, Will would smile if he heard that, looking at the many dogs of him. The clock on your phone showed it was 4.30 am and the lights weren’t on to your luck, meaning Will was asleep. You cheered for him, it wasn’t common for Will to get a good sleep. 

Before reaching for the keys in your coat’s pocket, you tried to open the door and as usual, the door wasn’t locked. You stepped inside, trying to be quiet as much as possible and left the small suitcase on the ground, turning to hang your coat. You weren’t ready to face reality yet, you just wanted to crush on the couch with the dogs on the ground and sleep until your boyfriend get up. 

‘Thought you were going to be in Nevada for the weekend.’ Will’s voice came from the kitchen and you froze, he sounded tired. ‘I was.’ You said quietly, walking to the kitchen, you were desperate to see him. ‘What happened?’ He asked calmly but you ignored the question, stepping closer to get a hug. Will welcomed you into his warm arms, he always did. He could feel your body relaxing in his embrace, you felt safe, you were home now.

‘Nothing, I just thought one evening is enough.’ You let out the lie, you both knew it wasn’t the truth but if you didn’t want to talk about it, Will would never push you. ‘Are you hungry or anything? I made some pasta for dinner.’ He asked softly as you stood in the dark, he sat on the counter while you rested your head on his shoulder, ‘You couldn’t sleep?’ You already knew the answer. ‘The new case is bothering me lately, and I’ve missed you.’

‘You could ask me to stay.’ Will knew he could do that and he knew you would cancel the trip without a blink, just to stay with him. But you haven’t seen your family for a while and he thought it was your right to go away to Nevada for a few days. ‘Yes, but they are your family, y/n.’ With that, you pulled away and smiled, ‘Oh, if you only knew... It was simply a disaster, Will. After dinner I was back at the airport.’

‘I... I can’t believe I thought it would be good, you know? I know my sister would be mad but I accepted to go anyway, I even thought she’d be nice. We sat for dinner, then my dad raised his glass, congratulating me for finishing my thesis. She said I had to make a show all the time, so dad will be on my side. That she’ll never have a second child, it’s such a shame she wanted me in the first place.’ Will stood silent, your words made him sad, he wasn’t there to have your back. 

‘Then I just said the facts, that it’s nonsense the talk about a second child when she had none. She screamed at me, shouting she wants to get married and have children, she hates still living with mom and dad. She went to her room and you know what, mom said I was rude and she was right. That’s why I didn’t invite you, I know you’d be nice to them and all, but I just didn’t want you to witness the fiasco.’

‘I wasn’t mad you didn’t invite me, y/n. I mean, I don’t like meeting new people obviously but well, they are your parents so I’d like to think I’ll meet them at some point. What they did is wrong and you don’t deserve to be treated like this, they may be your family but that doesn’t give them the right to hurt you.’ He spoke calmly, although he was angry at your older sister, still wishing he was by your side back there.

You sighed and held his hands, guiding him to the bedroom, you wanted him to get some sleep before the morning and his work came to overwhelm him. ‘I know I can’t understand her but I can imagine how’s she feeling. She failed at some things in life and here I am, achieving things she refused to work for. I don’t think it’s my mistake, or my parents’. They gave her every opportunity, Will.’

‘I remember, when I was six or seven they almost begged her to choose a university, they were ready to pay any amount and she said she wasn’t interested, that studying was too boring. She refused every offer and worked in a few jobs, quitted quickly, spent most of the days outside, almost got engaged twice and now I bet she’s regretting her choices. It must be hard, being almost forty and still living with your parents.’

You explained simply as he took his place on the bed, watching you take off your clothes, folding them neatly. Then you reached for one of his t-shirts, with the white one you reminded him of an angel in the dark. ‘You’re right but she’s not your burden, you have every right to be happy for yourself and you should be, you are kind, successful and caring.’ Will said quietly and patted the bed, ‘Come here.’ You obeyed eagerly, loving the feeling of being close to him. 

‘Dad asked about you by the way, he’s quite excited for the genius I’m sleeping with, you know?’ He chuckled softly with your words, ‘The genius, huh? I’d go with a different wording.’ You felt your smile fading away, exactly getting what he meant. A freak, he’d call himself after having another seizure. ‘You are not how you see yourself Will, believe me, and I already know he will like you because you’re the best thing that happened to me, ever.’

He sighed, your voice was sweet yet what you said was bitter, his insecurities attacking him just like the shadows of his nightmares. You were honest as always and he stopped for a moment, nobody has ever said the things you told him, he never thought he could be this important to a person without any intentions.

Then he felt your arm resting on his chest, drawing small, soothing circles. You felt he was thinking so you just waited until he was back with you, ‘Stop criticizing yourself, please.’ You reached to left a kiss on his cheek but he turned his face so you met with his lips, your lips brushing slightly as you smiled, finally connecting your lips. The kisses you shared always made you feel safe, you knew everything would be alright. 

Your fingers found his curls and you pulled a little, just so he gave you the access to his mouth, letting you take over the control. As if you were kissing for the first time, your blood rushed with adrenaline. Once you broke the kiss, he embraced you with his strong, long arms. ‘This feels real and I know it is real. You keep me sane, y/n, just you. I... I don’t where I’d be now without you.’ 

‘And you keep me going when I feel like I can’t do things anymore.’ You replied, tracing his biceps with your fingers. Will was relaxed now, he knew he was safe with you, even the dogs seemed to be calmer when you were around. ‘I know,’ he whispered, ‘and I love you.’ Then he kissed you goodnight and closed his eyes, knowing you’d be wide awake until you were sure he was asleep. At that moment, he felt like the luckiest man in the world. Little did he know that was the same feeling you had at that moment.

#dsknbdjfbsd my biggest dream is to sleep with william graham himself #not only sleeping obivously... #just choke him with my love #will graham #will graham x reader #will graham fic #hugh dancy #hannibal nbc #hannibal lecter

[le0watch]

A Flower for Your Thoughts

The night is still young, the palace filled to the brim with young women hoping to catch the prince’s attention. Each young lady has her own dress, and the colors range from white to black, and the sizes from large and puffy to thin and flat.

They’re all so loud and persistent, and hardly give Prince Langa the space he desires. He doesn't even want to be here- it was a decision made by his mother and chamberlain back in their Kingdom of Snow. His mother was beginning to get worried that he was too lonely, and his chamberlain had suggested that they come here to try and find him a suitor. Because then, with a wife, Prince Langa wouldn't be lonely again.

And while Langa would love for a wife, this feels too forced, and not natural. The women here only care that he's a prince, and for the enormous amount of wealth and fame that comes with marrying him. None of them actually care for him… just his title.

He sighs heavily, sitting on the edge of a fountain somewhere in the large palace garden. He's been here a while- no one has been able to find and annoy him as of yet, and the sound of the trickling water was soothing compared to the yelling and calling of the women in the castle. He rests his chin in the palm of his hand, the loneliness he'd come to know so well back him settling in his gut.

“It's the same here…” he mutters quietly, staring at the cracks in the ground and the ants crawling through the grass.

Suddenly, someone flops down beside him on the fountain’s edge, her dress a brilliant blue that spills around her legs and feet. It splays out across the edge of the fountain, some of it brushing through the water beneath them. He flinches, ready for yet another suitor to try and woo him for his wealth.

“Where is everybody?” the girl says, and Langa is struck by how cute she sounds. He hasn't looked at her yet- afraid if he does, it’ll break the spell and she’ll start fawning over him. He feels her eyes on the back of his head a moment later, staring at him. “Did you get lost?”

A reflection of light catches his eye, and glances down at the ground eyes widening as they land upon a gorgeous pair of glass heels. He's never seen glass slippers, or shoes for that matter, but they go wonderfully with her dress.

“Pretty…” he mutters, before he realizes what he's doing.

“Huh?” the girl says, taken by surprise.

“Your shoes. I've never seen any made of glass before,” he explains, and finally works up the courage to look at the girl’s face. He nearly gasps, because she's even prettier than the shoes or dress she is wearing.

Her bright red hair is pulled into two braids that trail behind her shoulders, the rest of it a mess of curls on the top of her head. Her eyes are a gorgeous honey amber color, and they sparkle even in the dark of the night. Freckles pepper her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, and before he realizes what he's doing, he's looking at her lips, a soft, plump pink.

He has to tear his gaze from her lips as they turn upwards into a bright grin. So bright, Langa momentarily believes her to be the sun, and that morning had come early. Her beautiful blue dress contrasts prettily with her red hair and eyes, sparkling gently beneath the stars.

“Oh, you meant the shoes,” she says sheepishly, chuckling lightly. What a beautiful sound. He almost wants to take back what he'd said, and tell her that no, he'd actually meant that she was pretty.

“Yeah,” he responds instead, because his brain is slow and sluggish as always. This doesn't phase the girl, however, but makes her tilt her head to the side with a crooked grin.

“How long are you gonna stare?” she asks, making Langa jump out of his skin. Oh, great. She’d caught him staring at her like a buffoon- very unprincely indeed. But she instead exclaims, “Let's dance!”

That takes Langa by surprise. She was being so bold- she's not even asking him, she's just saying it like it would be the natural thing for them to do. “With me?” he asks, quite stupidly. Who else was there for her to ask? He blames his short circuiting brain on her and how pretty she is.

“Is anyone else here?” she says pointedly, her grin only widening. She sounds excited, and she grabs his hand, hopping to her feet and pulling him along with her.

He lets out a noise of surprise as he stumbles to his feet after her, surprised by her straight forwardness. Wasn’t he supposed to ask her to dance, if at all? Yet, he doesn't pull his hand away, nor does he say anything negative in response.

Once they're both standing, the girl waits patiently for him to get ready, bouncing on the balls of her feet. When he rests one of his hands in her hand and the other on her waist, her face flushes a pretty red, and she sheepishly chuckles.

“I uh- I’ve never actually danced before,” she tells him shyly, and he blinks down at her. She’s shorter than he is- but not by too much. Her head reaches just above his chest, and is peering up at him through her pretty red lashes. “So uh- could you teach me?”

Langa’s cheeks grow warm at her shy but excited demeanor, and for a moment, all he could do was stare at her pretty face. She flushes, and squirms a little under his gaze.

“I'm sorry- I shouldn't have asked if I didn't know how-” she begins to apologize, slowly pulling away from Langa.

But the prince quickly catches her, keeping her close. He smiles down at her warmly- the first time he's smiled in years since his father died- and gently guides her hands to their proper places, one on his shoulder and the other lightly gripped in his. His body buzzes from their intertwined fingers to his toes, a warm happiness settling in his gut.

He hasn't felt so infatuated in a long time- or ever, for that matter. But somehow, this adorable redhead had caught his attention. Maybe it was from how she treated him like an equal, or maybe it was due to her sunny disposition. Anyway, Langa feels as if his heart is going to burst from his chest at any second.

He's never felt in love before, nor has he ever experienced a crush. These are new sensations and emotions he's experiencing, but he's highly enjoying them.

“Your hands go here,” he explains, meeting her amber gaze. Her eyes seem to glow, like a pair of stars in the night sky above them. “And I will lead. Just follow my steps, and you'll catch on pretty quick.”

“Oh- okay!” she exclaims with one of her bright grins. He nearly melts under its warmth, but begins the most basic of waltzes, as to not overwhelm her for her first time. He listens to the faint music playing from the distant castle, taking the first few steps. She stumbles for a moment, and trips over his feet, but he steadies her each time. She flushes and apologizes sheepishly when she steps on his feet, but he reassures her with a small smile.

“Wow, you're a good teacher.” She sounds whimsical, and it makes him smile again.

“You're learning it on your own,” Langa points out. “I'm just guiding you through it.”

“Guess you're right about that!” she exclaims with another bright grin. He loves when he smiles and grins; she smiles with her whole face, eyes scrunching at the edges, the tips of her lips stretching to both of her ears. “Now, who might you be, anyways. I've been dancing with a stranger this entire time.”

“Wait, you don't know?” he asks in surprise, his eyebrows shooting into his hairline. Everyone who’s come to the ball is merely there to meet him and hopefully get him to pick them as his wife. Does she really not know- or is she just acting?

But no, in the short amount of time Langa has known this mystery girl, he knows for a fact that she wasn't acting, somehow. The genuinity shining in her eyes coupled with her curious smile proves that to him.

“Should I?” she asks, a teasing edge to her voice. She draws in a sharp breath of surprise when Langa twists her outwards, before pulling her back close to himself again. He smiles down at her, and she smiles back up at him, holding tightly to his hand. Her hand seems to fit almost perfectly in his.

“I suppose not, if you don’t,” he replies. She doesn't have to know right away, right? That would probably break whatever magical spell has set over them, and turn her from a fun young maiden to one just as desperate for his wealth as everyone else. “But you may call me Snow. That's what my mother calls me. And your name?”

The girl hesitates, her dress fluttering around her legs when Langa twirls her, holding his arm high to allow her room. When she’s pulled back in and they fall back into step, she finally says, “That isn’t too important.” Her smile dropped while she said this, making Langa’s heart plummet into his stomach. Oh no, he had upset her. Or, she just feels as if she is inadequate beside him. He has to remedy this instantly.

He opens his mouth to do just that, but the girl beats him by saying, “Why don't you tell me more about yourself, hm? Like why you're outside all alone.” She smirks up at him, her previous negativity disappearing in an instant. She's masking. Langa’s familiar with masking. He was basically raised to always have a princely mask over his face. He doesn't like her masking one bit. But he also knows he can't force someone to stop.

“Needed to get some fresh air,” Langa replies honestly. “It was much too crowded and loud inside, so I stepped out for a moment.”

The girl doesn’t respond until he's finished spinning her through the air, gaining a beautiful burst of laughter from her. Once she’s on the ground again, her laughter tapers off, but a smile remains on her face.

“And what are you doing here, hm?” she asks, and Langa's mind instantly begins rushing for an answer. “I thought only the maidens of the land were invited to the ball, not the men.” She’s teasing him, fluttering her pretty lashes at him.

He swallows heavily, butterflies in his stomach. This girl has to have magic, how else could he be feeling so much because of her all at once?

“That is true,” he says, wetting his lips nervously as he dips her low. She gasps before giggling, latching onto his arm to keep herself from falling. Even though he would never drop her. He doesn't want to tell her he's the prince, yet. Soon, but not now. Just a while longer as another random guy at the palace. He is enjoying it. “I work here. In the palace, I mean. I'm… an apprentice!”

Her eyes widen and she grins up at him, her flowing dress brushing against his knees. The blue of her dress contrasts amazingly with her bright red hair, and he thinks the color suits her.

“Snow the apprentice,” she says. Langa likes the way she says his nickname. Or maybe he just likes her voice. Maybe a bit of both. “I like it.”

Langa lets out a breath of laughter, and dips her for the final time in their waltz. They break apart, and he bows while she courtesies low to the ground. Her dress is like a halo around her, and she looks much like an angel on earth.

Once they've both straightened back up, Langa glances towards the palace, biting his lower lip. He’s sure that he is not yet missed- he could show her around the garden. Maybe even give her that flower… yes!

He holds up a hand in offering, and asks, “May I show you around the garden?”

She hesitates only a moment before she takes his hand, dipping her head shyly. He smiles, and she smiles back at him. He leads her through the garden, pointing out the plants he knows the names of.

“Those are my favorite flowers,” he says, pointing to a patch of blue flowers. “They’re called forget-me-nots. The story behind them just makes them all the more special.”

The mystery girl looks down at them, before releasing his hand to crouch in front of them. She picks one of the many buds, before turning back to him. A light flush colors her freckled cheeks as she stands on her tiptoes to slip the stem of the flower behind Langa’s ear. His breath catches in his throat at her close she is- her breath mingling with his, and he can see each time her pretty lashes flutter, and the way her lips hanging slightly open.

Once satisfied, she draws back, looks over her work, and then grins brightly. “It matches your hair!” she exclaims, and he's taken by her all over again. She retakes his hand, and he has to draw in a deep breath before he can speak again.

“Th- thank you very much,” he says, clearing his throat. He's sure he's blushing. His face is hot enough. He then tugs on her hand, “Now I want to show you something.”

“Haven’t you been showing me the garden?” she teases, but follows after him obediently.

He doesn't answer her, looking this way and that for the flowers he has in mind. Finally, he spots them: red hibiscus flowers. He tugs her along quickly, and she lets out a surprised laugh, stumbling a moment to be able to keep up with him. Once he's reached them, he gestures for her to sit down. She raises an eyebrow at him, but does so anyways, her dress pooling out around her on the grassy ground.

“Hope this doesn't ruin my dress,” she mutters, more to herself than Langa. He hums in response, but focuses on the task at hand. His father had taught him how to do this as a gift for his mother when he was younger, and they constantly did it for her when Mother’s Day rolled around.

He gathers a hand full of the brilliant red flowers before he steps to stand behind her, dropping onto his knees to reach her hair. He sets the fistful of flowers on the ground beside himself, and takes his gloves off. He then combs his bare fingers through her puffy hair, eyes widening at how soft it is beneath his fingertips. She stiffens at first, before relaxing as he gently cards his fingers through her hair.

Langa begins to part bits of hair into two sections, throwing the right side over her shoulder. She stays silent as he works, and when he looks at her freckled face, he finds her eyes lightly closed as she soaks in his soft touches.

He smiles softly at her relaxed expression, before beginning the braiding process. Each time he loops one large strand of hair over the other, he weaves a flower or two between them. He continues this until he's finished the first braid, smiling at his work. He guides the large braid over her left shoulder, and then quickly picks another handful of hibiscuses.

As he focuses on the right braid, the pretty girl in front of him hums softly. “Didn’t think you knew your way around a woman’s hair,” she says softly, lightly tracing the braid with her finger. “This is beautiful.”

“Just as you are,” Langa says before he could think it through. He hears her take in a sharp breath of air out of surprise, looking at him through the corner of her eye over her shoulder. He smiles at her with a wink, and her face turns a deep red similar to the flowers weaved into her hair. “My father taught me, so I could do this sort of thing for my mother. She's always loved it when I do it, so I thought you would as well.”

“I think I do,” she whispers, running her finger along one of the flower’s petals. Langa watches her for a moment, getting caught in how gorgeous she is just looking at the flowers in her own hair. Then, he shakes himself inwardly and gets back to work, weaving more and more flowers into the second braid.

When he's finished, he guides the second braid over her right shoulder. She traces this one as well, before turning to face him, grinning brightly at him, blinding him all over again. “Thank you very much, Mister Snow!” she exclaims, and grabs one of his hands. Their fingers weave together, and he looks at their interlocked hands with wonder.

“And thank you for letting me do it, fair maiden,” he answers courteously. She giggles at him, and he slowly brings her hand up to his mouth, pressing his lips against the back of her hand. Her breath catches, her face flushing an even deeper red. Man, red really is her color. “I've had such a wonderful time with you- please, I must know your name.”

She wets her lips nervously, her amber eyes sparkling with anxiety. He lowers her hand, and begins to lightly trace her knuckles with his thumb. She watches this for a few seconds, before drawing in a deep breath. She steels herself, before meeting his eyes.

“Okay, I’ll tell you,” she says, and he unconsciously scoots closer to her, his knees brushing through the grass. He stops at the edge of her dress, not wanting to drag his knees across the well sewn stitching or fluffy layers. She leans in close, like she's about to tell him a secret, and he leans towards her without noticing, holding his breath with anticipation. “My name is-”

She cuts herself off when the loud bong of the nearby clock tower sounds, her eyes going wide, grip on his hand tightening. He stares at her questioningly, still waiting for her to say her name, only for her to suddenly be pulling away, pushing to her feet while brushing the front of her dress off.

“I have to go,” she says, taking Langa by complete surprise. His mouth falls open as she begins to quickly walk back they way they’d come, dress swaying around her wildly. Her expression is one of regret, but she doesn't stop going, turning back for one moment to tell him, “It was a fun night. Thank you very much.” She does a small curtesy before taking off in a full on sprint.

Langa almost can't do anything at first. All he could do was stare where she'd just been, his hand, now empty, held out uselessly in front of himself. The grass where she'd been sitting has an indention in it from the grass laying across it.

Then, he snaps out of it, and scrambles to his feet, taking off after her. “Wait!” he calls after her. His heart is hammering in his chest- they were having such a good time, why did she have to suddenly leave? The ball isn't even over for another two hours. They had plenty of time, and he wanted to get to know her more. “Wait! Where are you going?”

“I'm sorry!” she calls back, disappearing around a corner. Langa runs as fast as his legs could take him, and finds her already halfway down the steps of the palace. Her dress flares out behind her in a mess of blue, brushing across the tops of the steps.

At one point, Langa’s heart stops when she seems to stumble and nearly trip over one of the steps. He hardly even notices the large amount of noise growing behind him; everyone inside must have taken notice of his plight.

But the girl catches herself, pauses to look back, and then takes off again. Langa stops at the spot she had- spotting one of her beautiful glass slippers. His eyes widen and he crouches down to pick it up.

Bad idea.

Because the girl manages to get into her carriage and the carriage takes off as soon as the door is closed. His heart plummets and even though he knows it's in vain, he still gives chase after the carriage as it pulls away.

“Wait!!” he shouts after the receding carriage, to no avail. He glances around for his horse, but is stopped when his mom appears beside him, panting.

“Who was that?” she asks breathlessly. Langa’s mind buzzes; no no! He doesn't have time to talk! He has to get his horse and get to her before he loses her! But his mom catches his wrist before he could run, stopping him in his tracks. “Snow!”

He snaps out of his daze, and looks down at her desperately. Kojiro suddenly appears beside his mother, looking between them with confusion. “She- I- She's the one, Mom! And she hasn't even told me her name!” he manages to exclaim.

His mother’s eyes widen, and she looks at Kojiro, who seems to understand her look. He peels away from them towards the palace guard, hopping onto his horse.

“Calm down, sweetie,” she tells him soothingly. He's trembling, he realizes. He doesn't want to lose this mystery girl and her pretty face and kind personality and the things she makes him feel. He’d just met her and started smiling again! “Kojiro and the guards will go and bring her back, alright? Just wait right here. They'll be back soon.”

Langa wets his lips, biting his lower lip anxiously. He tightly grips the glass slipper she’d left behind, the only connection he has back to her.

His mystery princess.

#sk8 #sk8 the infinity #snowgear #reki kyan #renga #langa hasegawa #cindereki #my writing #my drabbles #long post

[bestiesenpai]

Inamorata - Sukuna

You have no idea how much I like this idea lol ya know the meme ‘i got a boyfriend, yeah he kills people he’s crazy’ this is exactly what went through my head with this. Femme reader, I went for a...Sukuna is his own person and not attached to Itadori kind of thing? Like just a stand-alone demon. I had probably way too much fun writing this and would be down to write more for this concept

Content warnings: killing/murder/homicide choose your preferred noun, a little yandere?, size difference and Sukuna is in his four armed form, uhmm there’s a knife(main use to cut open readers palm in the beginning) and also licking blood from said wound, violence/gore at the end

Apparently there was a demon on the loose. From what you’d read on online forums and heard through the whispers of older people on the train, there was a foreboding presence terrorizing the city, preying on the weak and helpless and hoping to take over the world.

There were blurry photos and horrible sketches of what the creature supposedly looked like and the form it took, but none of them seemed to match up. The tattoos on the face and body were always off, the amount of muscle and the stature of the creature were all different depending on who you went to.

Which is why you decided, against all better judgement, to go looking for him. All the stories you’d heard about the demon, the kind of creature it was centuries ago in its prime, had intrigued you. With the mystique and terror surrounding this demon, you’d be a fool not to try and get a peek for yourself.

At first you’d tried a summoning circle, clearing a large space in your bedroom and drawing intricate patterns on the floor in hopes of his arrival. That method quickly turned futile as no demon ever came - but now you probably had a few ghosts watching you sleep at night.

The second method was to try and make a pact with the devil himself, slicing open your palm and dripping blood onto the pages of old scriptures. Attempting to sell your soul had worked even less than the first method and all you had to show for it was a bandage around your hand for two weeks.

“I’ll definitely see him now.” You mumbled to yourself, walking straight to where the demon was seen most: the red light district. Walking past bright neon signs and nearly naked women in shop windows, you took a peek into every alleyway you came across.

“Hey pretty lady, what’re you looking for?” A rough, scratchy voice sounded behind you as you walked past the umpteenth alleyway of the night.

“What do you think?” Not looking over your shoulder, you kept walking. The voice, while sounding absolutely disgusting, didn’t belong to a demon and therefore not worth your time.

“I think you’re looking for trouble.” Curling his fingers around your arm, the man you were trying to ignore snatched you back, making you stumble and fall into his chest. The nasty scent of body odor and cigarettes was wafting off the man, making you worry that his stench would cling to you for days.

“Not the kind you’re talking about.” Pushing away from him, you furiously wiped off your clothes. Looking this man in the face irritated you, he was wasting his time and you knew exactly what his intentions were.

“Don’t play so hard to get!” Forcing a less than charming smile on his face, the man made the move to grab you again.

“Don’t touch me!” Slapping his hands away, you took generous steps back from him. “You’re getting in the way of my search.”

“Search?” Quirking a brow at you, the man took a moment to think before his brows rose in surprise. “You’re looking for Sukuna, aren’t you?”

“That’s his name?” You’d never heard his name before, only seeing some people refer to him as a four armed creature from hell.

“Yup, and I’ve seen him a couple times.” Crossing his arms over his chest, the man smirked triumphantly. “You could say he and I have a kind of friendly relationship.”

“Do you now?” Your eyes trailed up from the man to the dark alleyway behind him where two glowing red eyes emerged.

“Oh yeah, Sukuna’s a great guy! Even offered to give me a position in his little army.” The more he spoke the brighter the eyes got and the fuzzy outline of a gigantic body was starting to take shape.

“His little army?” Slowly taking steps back as the figure came forward, you barely had time to react before the man was snatched up by two giant hands and yanked backwards. Lifting him into the air, it wasn’t long before a mouth with gleaming sharp teeth opened up and swallowed him whole.

As the eyes drew their attention back to you, a nervous laugh left your chest that you couldn’t force to stop. Every step you took back was now accompanied by a step forward from the creature until it fully left the alleyway and you saw exactly what you were dealing with.

Right in front of you, in full form and glory, was the demon you’d been searching for. The scrawling black tattoos along his entire body, the four arms, pink hair, second set of eyes and his impossibly muscular physique - all of it was exactly like you’d been hoping for.

“Hello, pretty little thing.” His voice boomed despite being relatively quiet, a slight echo to the deep timbre. It was almost melodic in a way, somehow soothing your racing heart just slightly.

“S-sukuna?” You squeaked out, back meeting the brick wall of a building.

“That would be me.” Chuckling as he stopped a few feet from you, Sukuna crossed his secondary arms and looked down upon you. The sheer height and width of his body easily dwarfed yours, your head only barely reaching his ribcage.

Your eyes couldn’t stay in one place as you looked at Sukuna. There was too much to take in and you could feel yourself quickly becoming overwhelmed trying to commit every detail to memory.

“You’re…” Licking your lips nervously, you could only meet his eyes for a moment before settling on the mark on his forehead. “You’re wearing womens clothes.” Tied around his waist and hanging off his legs was indeed a womens kimono, a surprising pristine white shade.

“That’s what you decide to say at our first meeting?” An echoing laugh bellowed from him and Sukuna shook his head, running one hand through his hair.

“I-I’m sorry it’s just...they never mentioned it online.” It felt a little silly to be explaining yourself to him when at any moment Sukuna could eat you like he did that man and you would have no way of stopping him.

“Little thing, I have a question for you.” Fixing you with a suddenly sharp stare, Sukuna lowered his brow and bent down, placing two arms above your head and two at your side, trapping you in against the wall with no possible outs.

“Yes?” Pinching your eyes closed, you held your breath as you waited for the inevitable bite of his teeth around.

“Are you scared?” Sukuna whispered, his breath fanning out over the top of your head.

“Yes.” It would be a lie to say no and you had nothing to lose by telling the truth. Sukuna’s eyes bore into you, the weight of his stare physically making your back bow.

“What did you think of me eating that man just now? Was that terrifying for you?”

“No.” Sukuna took a pause at your answer and although you couldn’t see it, his brow furrowed for a fraction of a second.

“What did you feel then? Surely you must have thought it was horrible.”

“N-not really.” Slowly cracking one eye open, you looked up at Sukuna, almost breaking your neck from having to stare directly above you. “I was actually quite happy you did that. He was getting on my nerves.”

The barking laugh that left Sukuna’s mouth made you flinch and throw your hands in the air. It was so loud it seemed to vibrate your entire body and a few windows on the building behind you shook from the force.

“You’re telling me you liked me killing that guy?” Grabbing you by the collar of your shirt, Sukuna held you up in the air, eye level to him. You nodded, pitifully kicking your legs out to try and get back to solid ground. “Aren’t you a messed up little thing?” Still laughing, Sukuna took a proper once over of your body. “Pretty, but messed up.”

“P-please let me go!” You whimpered, hands desperately clutching Sukuna’s to try and not fall out of your clothes and onto the ground.

“What’s wrong? Don’t like how I hold you?” Shaking you for good effect, Sukuna smirked wildly at your scared little squeaks. “Tell me your name.”

“It’s (Y/N)!” Shouting into the air, you felt relief flood into you as Sukuna finally lowered you back to the ground and his hands released you.

“(Y/N)?” Sounding it out on his tongue, Sukuna shrugged to himself. “I like ‘little thing’ better.”

“I’m only little compared to you.” Fixing your clothes, you tried to regain your breath and stop your body from shaking so violently.

“So, what’s a creature like you doing out so late at night here? It’s not safe for a human like you to roam around these parts.”

“I was looking for you.”

“Me? You were looking for me?” Sukuna snorted, waving his hand dismissively at you. “A human like you looking for me? I’ve really seen it all.”

“It’s true!” Pulling out your phone, you quickly showed him all the data you’d compiled on him. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, Sukuna! I did a summoning circle, I’ve looked in hundreds of online forums - I even tried to make a deal with the devil!” Showing him the mark that was still healing on your palm, the fear that was in your body was slowly trickling out and being replaced with- hope? Excitement? It was hard to say, but as Sukuna grasped your hand between two fingers and looked at your palm, it would be wrong to say it was a negative emotion you felt.

“You really did all that for me?” His voice was much softer now but it still sounded like he was mocking you. Smoothing the pad of one finger across your palm, he felt the ridges of your palm and the wound.

“I did. I find you really fascinating and I- I just wanted to learn more about you.” You faltered when he looked at you, a fierce heat overtaking your cheeks at admitting out loud that you’d been looking for a demon because you found him interesting.

“Are you perhaps interested in me?” A smirk tugged one side of Sukuna’s lip up and he chuckled when your expression only grew more flustered. “Oh little thing, you’re more messed up than I thought.”

“Will you tell me more about yourself? Please?” The words tumbled out of your mouth desperately as you let Sukuna stretch out your arm and grasp your hand more firmly. He didn’t answer you or even acknowledge that you’d spoken, instead grazing the tip of one long sharp nail along the line of the cut.

“I find myself liking you more and more, why is that?” Sukuna’s tone sounded like he was addressing himself as he spoke aloud, turning your hand every which way as he kept scraping his nail against your palm. “Were you my lover in the past, back when I reigned as the ruler of this whole land?”

Racking your brain to try and remember any information on Sukuna potentially having a lover, you were ripped back to reality when Sukuna dug his nail into your skin, reopening the cut and making blood flow freely.

“Ow!” You couldn’t yank your arm out of his grasp and you watched in mild horror as Sukuna lowered himself to your hand, letting his tongue hang out of his mouth and drag across your skin. His tongue quickly became coated in dark red blood, his saliva starting to mingle with your blood.

“You taste so familiar, you must have been mine.” Lapping up your blood now, Sukuna didn’t stop until he could tell you were starting to get weak from blood loss. The lower half of his face was now covered in red, smeared across his skin like paint.

“Sukuna, that’s gross.” The mumble slipped from your delirious mind, making him laugh as he waved a hand over the cut and made it go away. Slipping your hand from his grasp it was like there had never been a mark there in the first place.

“A human telling me what’s gross?” Licking his face clean, Sukuna grinned down at you. The longer he looked at you the longer memories of a past you returned to his mind. The irresistible draw he felt to come to you tonight had been the same one that called to him centuries ago, making you the center of his otherwise cruel and empty world.

Placing two hands on the wall behind you, Sukuna leaned over you once more, this time grasping your chin and turning your face up to him. The saliva that had mixed with your blood had also given you new memories of the past as well, and as you looked at Sukuna you remembered all the things the two of you had done together.

“So, my pet, what shall we do first?”

Sukuna ended up carrying you home, having you tucked inside his kimono as he leaped on rooftops across the city. Opening your bedroom window, Sukuna shoved his body through, having to make himself slightly smaller to fit inside the house.

“Are you uh, hungry?” Standing awkwardly in the middle of your bedroom as Sukuna sat on your bed, you weren’t quite sure what to do now.

“I could eat.” Laying fully back on your bed, it creaked and groaned as Sukuna rested his weight on it. The thought of offering to take him to the kitchen came and went quickly in your head; just getting him into your room was a hard enough task.

Fixing him and yourself a quick meal, as soon as you were done eating Sukuna picked you up and rested you on his abdomen. Even after shrinking himself down your legs were still stretched as wide as possible in hopes of wrapping around his waist.

“As the memories of you return, I realize how much I’ve missed you, my pretty little thing.” Petting down your back, Sukuna looked at you fondly. Propped up on two of his arms, he could stare directly at your tiny body sitting atop him.

“What kind of memories do you have?” So far, the only thing you could seem to recall were memories of a more sexual nature. One’s of you and Sukuna wrapped up in each other's arms, both of his cocks stuffed inside you as you begged to cum.

“I remember giving you the world, whatever you wanted was yours for the taking.” The look in Sukunas eyes was surprisingly soft and you could feel the love coming out from him.

“Whatever I wanted?” Repeating the words, your mouth hung open slightly at all the possible things you could get.

“The world may exist to serve me, but I exist to serve you.” Fully sitting up, Sukuna held you against him as he leaned down, lips grazing your forehead. “What do you want, (Y/N)? I can get you anything in the world, I can do anything in the world.”

“Kill for me.” The whisper that left your lips was almost too quiet for even yourself to hear. But Sukuna nodded, having heard you perfectly. Your words made his body thrum with excitement and his nerves were on edge.

“Kill for you?” He repeated, kissing you on the forehead. The fingers that held you closely dug into your sides and if Sukuna wasn’t careful he could crush you completely.

“You love me, don’t you?” There was just the slightest hint of worry in your voice. What if you were overestimating your power over Sukuna? He could say no or even kill you himself.

“You have no idea what the things my love for you will do.”

Although it pained him to do so, Sukuna left you once the sun began to rise. He had other things to attend to, temples that worshipped him as a god to visit. Promising to see you once dusk began to settle over the sky, Sukuna leapt from your window and into the horizon.

“You came back.” Even though he swore up and down he’d come back, it still shocked you to see him back on your bed once it hit a certain time of night.

“Of course I did.” Sukuna almost seemed hurt you would question him. Holding out a hand, as soon as you grasped one of his fingers he pulled you to him and nestled your body into his side. “Did you do what I asked?”

“The list is in my pocket.” Before leaving, Sukuna had told you to make a list of all the people you wanted him to kill for you. The list had started out short, just a few people that had hurt you that you couldn’t let go of, and then it grew to others, politicians and corrupt people in the media.

“Quite impressive, little thing.” Reading over the list, Sukuna stood up. “Shall we go then?”

“Go whe-” As Sukuna threw open your bedroom window you were met with a strong gust of wind. “Sukuna, where are we going?” You asked him over the wind in your ears. Putting his upper arms into the sleeves of his kimono, he made sure you were nestled safely inside.

“We’re going to take care of the first person on your list.” Wrapping an arm around you, Sukuna jumped out of the window. Though this wasn’t your first time in this position, you hadn’t been fully cognizant when Sukuna took you home last night. Now, with a head clear and no lack of blood to distract you, you could see the lights of the city clearly as they whipped past you.

“It’s beautiful.” Carefully leaning forward, you gazed at the downtown area with all the flashing lights and swerving cars.

“If you say so.” Patting your hip, Sukuna pulled you back, resting your weight fully on his arm and clothes. He wouldn’t admit it, and despite knowing he would catch you in a millisecond, Sukuna didn’t want you to fall out and fall to the ground.

Coming upon the first persons house, he settled you on the ground outside. You were in a tightly knit residential area standing directly under a streetlight, with rows of houses that all looked similar. In a flash, Sukuna had broken into the house and grabbed the person you were after.

“This them?” With a tight grip on their ankle, Sukuna shook them side to side.

“Mhmm.” You didn’t need to look to know he’d gotten the right person, just the feeling you had around them was enough to confirm it.

“W-what’s going on here?!” They screamed, blood pooling in their head the longer they hung upside down.

“Don’t speak.” Sukuna barked, shaking them once again. “You don’t speak to her, or at all.” The person screamed again, a high pitched sound that quickly got shut off as Sukuna swung their body and smacked them against the ground. “I thought I told you to be quiet.”

For a moment you thought they’d died from how hard Sukuna hit them against the ground, but a small whimper and breathless gasps sounded from where their face was crushed against the pavement.

“Do you know why I’m here?” You whispered, standing over their motionless body. Rolling over onto their back, they shook their head and started to stammer. “If you can’t answer my question I don’t want you to make a sound.” Pressing your foot onto their throat, you flinched when their hands came up to try and claw you away.

“Don’t touch her.” Instantly pinning their arms down, Sukuna glowered. “How would you like me to do it?”

“Let me think.” Staring down into their glassy eyes, a million options went through your mind. Sukuna’s power was limitless, there was nothing he couldn’t do. If you asked him to throw their body into outer space, he would do it in a heartbeat. “Rip them limb from limb. You can eat them if you’d like.”

“As you wish.” A sick grin curled Sukuna’s lip and he drug their body across the ground until they were directly underneath him.

“(Y/N) wait! W-wait please!” Their shrill cries fell on deaf ears, and the sound of the first limb being torn off their body was something you could get used to. “Oh- oh my god, my leg!”

“God I wish you’d shut up.” You kept your eyes on the person's face, refusing to look at where blood squirted generously from their now missing extremity.

“Allow me.” With the swipe of one claw Sukuna gouged out their throat. Hot, bright red blood spilled out onto the pavement, pooling and almost making it to where you stood. Throwing one leg into his mouth, Sukuna used a non-bloody hand to lift you up and place you onto a brick wall.

“Thank you.” Giving him a gentle smile, you now had a front row seat to Sukuna ripping apart this person's body and slowly devouring them. There was a mess of blood coating Sukuna’s skin, far more blood than when he had drunk yours.

As you watched Sukuna eat this person, a sense of satisfaction washed over you. It felt good to get justice in your own way for how this person wronged you. After being told to let it go, try and move and let time heal the wound, you could finally get closure the way you wanted.

“All done?” You asked once the last piece of their body was consumed. Standing up to his full height, Sukuna still looked down at you. The blood on his skin began to sizzle off, evaporating into the air and leaving the pungent smile of iron behind.

“Have I made you happy?” He responded, cupping your face and lightly squishing your cheeks. Smiling proudly, a warm flush washed over your face the longer you and Sukuna looked at each other.

“Yes, very.” Nuzzling into his palm and kissing it, you let out a breathless laugh as Sukuna did the same.

“I’m happy to please you.” Kissing you on the top of the head, Sukuna pulled out the list and crossed out the first name. “Shall we go to the others now?”

#tw: violence #tw: blood #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen imagines

[dismuch47]

ADVANCED SETTINGS (Part 4)

And finished. Free... I’m FINALLY free! To write small drabbles that don’t consume like longer ones! Lots of fun had on this, though. Haven’t dabbled in smut for a long time. I enjoy it’s challenge, but I wouldn’t say I prefer it. I can never write smut just for smut’s sake. There always have to be a challenge and/or lead-up... and that can be exhausting... or I put all the love and effort into that and feel spent before the sexy bit and I’m just... stuck. Ah well. My personal writing hang-ups...

Advanced Settings: Wanda and Vision find there is more to iron out in making their relationship “work”. Rated Explicit. No little eyes please. 

There was a new humor to the hotel room, a lightness, compared to the tensity which the two occupants had previously tiptoed around. Now, however, it was rather hard for the two to keep their hands from one another. Wanda finally broke away first, taking charge, insisting on breakfast to “fuel up,” and then disappeared into the bathroom for a considerable amount of time. Vision was rolling in the squeaky food cart when she re-emerged. The noisey wheels halted as he admired the view.

She had brushed out her hair and it hung in soft, billowy auburn waves. Her face had been renewed with a brisk cleansing, and just a hint of concealer and gloss to give her skin a glow that Vision could see even without them. She had reclaimed the hotel bathrobe, but it was open and sagged around her shoulders as she posed in the doorframe…revealing a black bra and panty set that showcased her toned and ample feminine assets. It wasn’t frilly, but it was most affective in it’s function.

“Costume change.” Wanda said, feeling pretty damned delicious… and pretty satisfied that her synthezoid boyfriend couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her. She stalked towards him, playfully twirling the robe belt in her hand. If only she had some black pumps to complete the seductive ensemble… Wanda picked up an apple, cleared her throat to continue the conversation that had been conducted through the closed door. “To answer your previous question, no. I didn’t know that would happen like that. That we could connect and you feel MY physical sensations. The mindstone was the conduit…I just…pushed my will alittle harder.” She winced a little, biting her lower lip. “Maybe I should have asked first.”

“It was indeed perplexing, in the beginning.” Vision retorted, closing the gap between them. “But I am considerably appreciative that you did so. I am ever in awe of your capabilities and strength…” He reached to embrace her, lowering his face to hers for another consuming kiss… but she brought the apple to her lips quicker and sauntered away from his grasp. He blinked, but gave a small grin as she circled the cart, pretending to be more interested with its contents.

“Eating.” She took a juicy bite of the fruit, making approving noises.

“Wanda…”  

Was the synthezoid actually getting… a little impatient? That was new and thrilling to Wanda. “Then I don’t suppose you would mind us exploring that connection for more of your… sensory education? For science, of course.”

“Naturally.”

“Naturally.” She returned his sly grin. “Maybe explain your hypothesis again.” He opened his mouth to answer. “While you remove your clothing.” She tilted her head at him. “And slowly. No phasing.” She sank her teeth in for another crisp bite.

This was certainly a new side of Wanda. She was exponentially more excited for the possibility of Vision’s capacity to participate in pleasure from their intimacies. Though it be through atypical means. He started with the top button of his blue dress shirt, single handed. “Our connection, via the mind stone, grants me access to feel your body’s organic sensory design, emotionally… and physically. First hand.” His shirt fell away from his chest, sliding down his maroon and vibranium striated arms. This was clearly a show for Wanda’s benefit, but it did give him validation to see her touch her skin and flap her hair to cool her perspiring neck. She faltered in the action as she saw his hands migrate down his stomach to his belt. “I believe that by observing your mental perspective and carnal responses, I may be able to calibrate and script my own genuine… outputs.” He unzipped the front of his pants. “Learning physical intuition, rather than imitation. Would that please you, Wanda?”

She was nodding mindlessly, until she came to herself again. “Y-yes. Yes. It would.” She put her apple down. “How about you?”

He cocked his head at her. “I believe I have already expressed my compliance to this experiment.”

“Vis I know, I just…” Wanda sighed and went to him, taking his hands from his clothing and sitting him down on the edge of the bed. She dropped the seduction act. “I just remember my first time. And I know this technically isn’t your first time, outwardly, but there’s just so much…” In a flurry of vague hand gestures, she lost her train of thought with all she was trying to help him understand. Rather badly. She let out another sigh. “There’s vulnerability and a lack of control… which can be liberating…but also kinda scary at first. I just don’t want you to be overwhelmed and not tell me. Because you want me to be happy.”

Vision brushed some of her hair back behind her ear in a comforting motion. Touched at her concern, recalling the complete feeling of her love he had been engulfed in not 50 minutes prior. “I am… eager… to endeavor this with you, Wanda. Nothing makes me feel more human than testing the capabilities of this synthetic form.” He met her eyes. “But you will have to accept that such enthusiasm is over-shadowed by my desire to please you. It’s become a bit of cornerstone in me, actually.” His soft smile was cautious, as he tried to read her expression. “Is… is that alright?”

She smiled back and held his strong chin. “Yes.” She gave him a peck on his cheek. “I know the feeling.” She rose to her feet, shedding the plush robe completely and tossing it to a nearby winged-back chair. “But I think I’d still feel better if you at least had… I don’t know… a safe word? In case you need a moment.”

The synthezoid arched a brow at her insistence. Vision was familiar with the concept of a “safe word”… usually attributed to more aggressive erotic acts. With costumes and props to aid in stimulation. It was data he had once sifted through briefly out of curiosity, but ultimately pushed aside with disinterest. A safe word was usually a common, non-sexual noun with possible sentimental significance. He looked down at his hands in his lap for a moment.

“How about… Paprika?” he offered.

Wanda failed at suppressing a dimpled grin. “Okay. ‘Paprika’ it is. Use it if you need to.” She saw that his unfastened pants were still on. “Now take those off.”

He grimaced at the reminder, but obeyed. “I understand there is a pace to sensuality… and I am more than content to comply… but as we both know that this is leading to coitus, should we not perhaps just-“

Wanda’s index finger pressed to the mind stone, surging her essence into him, drawing him into herself. Her heart a steady but enthralling rhythm, pumping heat to her centers… just by looking at him. Vision saw through her eyes, that roved over his body and how it delighted her. The curves and dips of his thick neck and shoulders, the swell of his pectorals, down the ridges of his abdominals, the dip of his shallow navel, and though his green briefs  still denied her access to his groin, Vision’s sculpted thighs more than atoned for the censorship. His body was perfectly compiled for her pleasure, not just battle.

She lustfully schemed where she would kiss, cup, bite, suck, grind and ride to elicit pleasure noises from him. She became wet just thinking about hearing him articulate his ecstasy for the first time… the anticipation of it all such delectable torture…

Vision gave a soft gasp as Wanda withdrew her touch from the gem. He had to catch himself from falling back into the bed, but then slowly lowered himself to his elbows, reeling from the contact.

Wanda drank in the sight of his body stretched out like an offering, thighs parted wider than they had been before. She scrunched her nose, noticing his breathless response to the connection. “Sorry, Vis. I… I should probably warn you before I do that.”

The synthezoid observed his own heaving body, incredulous at it’s power over Wanda’s mind. Of course he had known she could be visually aroused by him, but knowing was quite different from feeling it. His blood pulsed with his excited core, while trillions of laced circuitry signaled to recreate the stimulation that his mind had just learned. It became a state without reprieve, though it needed it. The wanting.

“Vision?”

He glanced up at Wanda speechless, his enlightened eyes tracing her pleasing, creamy curves and swells… feeling increasing wanting, or was it hunger, for them to be at the mercy of his tireless administrations. Mesmerized with the idea of her climaxing as she was with him. Vision’s gaze rested on Wanda’s thighs, knowing their throb and heat… and feeling it in his own.

She looked down at him splayed out on the bed, not responding to her call. “Paprika?” She asked.

Vision’s eyes slowly blinked and met hers, posture no longer a startled reaction… but an invitation.

“Not even close.” He murmured.

Wanda smirked at his lusty retort, whether he realized it sounded so or not, and crawled into a straddle position across his lap. She finally rewarded him with a kiss, lowering her head down to his, her hair a russet curtain around their faces. He knew and could authentically reciprocate this part. Very well. His head tilted to the side as their lips opened to each other, giving and taking. Wanda made soft noises, pleased with the new-found urgency of his lips and tongue. Vision reached up to bury his maroon digits in her silky hair, pulling her down with him as he reclined back into the mattress.

“I’m… I’m gonna…” Wanda breathed between kisses. She slid her hand back up towards the mind stone. Vision gave a nod to acknowledge her warning, but his head still fell back with the sheer force of their fusing. His, HER, lips were swollen with use…a fascinatingly tiring and addicting state. He responded with more use of that moist, delicate flesh, only to hear himself softly moan with her.

More. She wanted more. And he wanted more.

Wanda tossed her head back, exposing access to her neck as the synthezoid meticulously worked his way down from her jawline. He found the hollow dip of her clavicle, giving an experimental lick. A pleasurable shudder made its way down Wanda’s spine, and she cradled Vision’s head as she felt him inhale sharply, experiencing the response for himself.

Graceful hands skimmed up her back and around to the ample front, under the swell of breast. Vision’s thumbs gently circled the soft flesh, until he discovered the arousal he was eliciting in her. Wanda licked her lips and pursed them firm to keep from making more undignified noises… but as the circles widened with urgency and eschewed her bra away from the mounds…

“Vision….” Wanda pleaded. The heaving of his chest raised her up and down visibly. She propped herself up with her free hand, for stability, but gave a flick of her wrist before placing it on the bed. Scarlet energy aggressively unhooked the back of her bra.

“Thank you, darling…” Vision breathed, seizing the offending braw and tossing it away from them, before latching boldly to a breast. Wanda gasped, swearing she could hear him do the same against her taunt skin. A couple of times, her hand nearly lost it’s placement on the stone upon Vision’s head, but he didn’t waver in his enthusiasm.

She hummed her rapture, toes curling. Everything felt like new. For the first time. To have her lover finally able to feel the joy that he gave her every time they came together. She gasped when he sat up abruptly, fearing that it was all too overwhelming and reprieve was needed… but was instantly relieved to feel his hand roving down her tight stomach.

Vision’s investigation of Wanda’s neurological feedback led him to further questions that had no answers, at least not that words or data could supply. Very frustrating for the logical being, yet the curiosity of bodily excitement far out-weighted any perplexity that would prevent him from continuing exploration. He bent forward, lingering between the smooth valley of Wanda’s chest, as she arched her back. He felt her spine stretch and arch back, appreciating not only her flexibility… but the conundrum of being in a vulnerable and compromising position, completely at one’s mercy. The tenderness and trust an aphrodisiac.

The butterflies in Wanda’s stomach, fluttering downward felt like they were his own. Vision chased them with one hand while the other steadied, and kneaded, at a pert flank. The motion encouraged an involuntary buck and rhythm from her hips. One that the synthezoid felt in his being as well. She needed release. Immediately VIsion’s assuring touch was at her moist entrance for service. His thighs twitched to feel the complete gridlock of nerves flaring up with pleasure at the firm contact to her womanhood. He let out a gasp with her.

Wanda suddenly straightened, colliding back into him, forcing his head up to look at her. Their connection severed.

“No… not like that. Not for your first time…” Wanda insisted, flushed and light-headed. She kissed his nose, and down to his lips, wet and consuming. She pushed him back into the bedding. She ran her hands down his neck, following his reflective patterning, and over the pectoral muscles of his chest.

Vision’s breath hitched as she lingered there, stroking, circling, and pinching at the maroon surface exposed beneath the vibranium plating. True that he didn’t have the responsive peaks that his girlfriend had, but their exploring had challenged his body to interpret the sensitivity and to replicate. It wasn’t exactly the same as a human’s organic response, but it was originally and genuinely his. He sighed, a leg flexing in response to his processor’s messaging as Wanda nipped at the area. It swarmed coding within him… and then faded to a docile buzzing as her contact left him.

He realized he must have been lost in his processing, as Wanda was now smiling down at him, expression of serene wonderment upon her face. She reached down and placed a hand on his cheek, thumb caressing his parted lips. Vision gently grasped her wrist, turning out her palm so he could kiss the tender flesh. Those hands… that could make a being like him feel so alive. With soul.

Loved.

Wanda grinned assuredly, slipping her hand from his grasp. Down her hands caressed over angled abdominals, relishing the rise and fall of his stomach, down to the defined V that was still partially concealed by his green briefs. As if a mind-reader himself, Vision phased through the obstructive material. The human arched her brow and began shedding her last bit of clothing too… though much more ungracefully.

“Yeah, I can’t do that…” she grunted. She grimaced… then giggled into his chest as she freed herself from the panties, eventually holding them in the air victoriously, then tossing them to the floor.

Vision chuckled down at her silly smile as he brushed her disheveled hair from her face. But the playful curve of her smile faded, overcome with desire. She kissed him again, nearly missing his lips in her haste. He readied himself, a process that even Wanda couldn’t exactly help him fully experience… lacking the precise equipment herself… but that was no matter. Her urgency spurred on his own into a frenzy. She lined herself up with him, up on her knees, hand spread against his chest.

“Vis…”

“Yes. I understand.” He didn’t fully. On the cusp of understanding, really… but it seemed the right thing to say. “I want you too, Wanda.” Completely true.

This seemed to quell Wanda’s hesitancy, as she reached up once more to the golden infinity stone embedded in her lover’s forehead. Vision arched, unprepared for the intensity as Wanda lowered herself upon him. She moaned loudly, the feel of his fullness within her long overdue. She rolled her hips, forward, and back, and forward even further before receding back, like a sensual ocean tide. Vision’s hands grasped at her waist, at first just to hold on to something, but they eventually slid closer to her pelvis to oblige the erotic friction. He pushed up when she moved forward, giving her the stretch and fullnesss she craved, and down to collide into her swollen apex as she rocked back.

But she nearly lost it when she heard Vision emit a hesitant rumble, soft and throaty. One that usually came out when contemplating intellectual disputes and his conclusions were challenged… but then it bled into a wanton groan. It came again…

This was much more than pleasant buzzing and mysterious sensations to be explored leisurely. These were profound currents that the synthezoid was trying to wade through, and he feared being completely swept away. He clutched at Wanda’s hand upon his chest, desperate for her navigation. He saw the familiarity and comfort of her glowing shores but was alarmed by the utter digital cosmos within himself, meteors darting in brilliant, angular patterns. They seared their way down his body, not painfully. The opposite of pain, but still rather unnerving. Or rather... unknown.

Vision’s other hand shot above him to seize the top of the headboard, only vaguely aware that he had begun to levitate from the mattress. Between Wanda’s blindingly rapid pace, their energies mightily infused, and Vision’s system trying to prevent from overloading… both failed to notice.

Wanda was close, trying her best to keep her hand glued to the stone, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. She tried to slow, tried to savor for Vision’s sake, but the spasms seized her fiercely. Which Vision’s inter-workings had the impossible task to comprehend. Brilliantly burning surges quivered along their angular paths… only to deviate free, melding into each other and trickling down… hot… liquid gold.

The synthezoid convulsed with pleasure, his grunt tinged with digital glitch. Wanda’s awareness came back to her as she heard a splintering crack.

And then the world fell beneath them.

Or rather they dropped from five feet in the air, back onto the bed. Which of course broke in two under Vision’s dense weight.

Wanda squeaked with the impact, and covered her mouth in shock. She shot a glance up to her boyfriend, who looked just as startled as she did… only he was holding a bit of headboard that he had broken off before the plunge.  

“Oh dear…” he breathed. “Uh…’paprika?’”

***

Despite Vision’s unconsolable guilt of the property damage he had done, feeling that he had broken the hotel’s trust and rooming agreements, Wanda was able to remedy the furniture rather promptly. Her hands glowed red, collecting every piece and splinter, restoring the bed-frame back to it’s former, structural integrity. It took a few minutes of coaxing to convince the synthezoid that it could hold him without collapsing, but now he laid upon it, sheet wrapped around around his waist. Wanda was picking at the now cold breakfast foods, clad in the robe… which she was seriously considering stealing.

“She said…what?” Vision rolled to his side, propping his head up with his hand to regard Wanda. “Well that is…”

“I know. I was upset for you.” Wanda seethed, feeling her former upset from the previous day’s tasteless conversation. She stabbed at the muffin on her plate. “It was so… so…”

“Fascinating, actually.” Vision interjected. He regarded her reaction. “Well, at least I was contemplated amongst my team at all. Not favorably, I’ll grant you… but at least I was enough apart of the tribe, if you will, to be appraised for my humanity…or lack of. I find that oddly comforting.”

Wanda shook her head. “You’re too good for your own good, Vis.”

He cocked his head at her. “Well… they are off crammed in some shack, contemplating my sexual capacity while I’m here making love to the most exquisite woman on the planet, breaking beds.” Vision grinned slyly. “It’s hard to wallow with such margins in my favor, Wanda.”

The woman smiled deeply, dropping the wounded muffin completely. “Is it me, or are you more audacious than before?”

Vision rumbled in his throat. “Mmmm… audacious. I love it when you speak deliciously so…” He adjusted himself to a kneeling position while Wanda crawled towards him. “You know, darling, I think my system is finished with its recalibrating.”

“Oh?” Wanda slipped her arms around his broad shoulders.

“Settings adjusted. Scripts fine-tuned…”

“Hmmmm…” She brought her face teasingly close to his.

“I think a second go would prove to be… rather enjoyable. And less destructive, of course.”

“Of course.” She mimicked, before planting her lips against his.

They took their time, with hands entwined, gentle kisses and tender smiles. Glittering, scarlet waves below skies of emerald nebulas and golden comets. Only a thin veil of skin and vibranium keeping the soulmates from melding into each other completely.

#scarletvision #wandavision #wanda maximoff #vision #advanced settings #fanfiction #FOR THE FANDOM #ready to move on from this #there was going to be more #I just got burnt out #hopefully that didn't come through in the pacing #I wanted to include wanda seeing Vision the way he sees her #dinner and a picture by a bridge #more vaguely described sexy timez #and then a goodbye at the trainstation #but NO #I'M DONE #MOVING ON #I just love these soulmates SO MUCH

[yukimoji]

Memory ( Platonic Sakonji Urokodaki x Young!Reader, Ft. Sabito )

[ Can i request urokodaki x orphan y/n? Urodoki became a doting grandpa 🤣Would it be fun? ]

(a/n: this takes place before Urokodaki adopted Giyuu and Tanjiro! Sabito and reader is around 5-6 years old. This starts of as a scenario, but it transitions into a headcanon form midway, I hope ya’ll dont mind (⌒_⌒;) 

 Sorry for the huge delay, thanks for requesting and i hope ya’ll enjoy reading! (*^‿^*) ) 

Total words: 2300+ words

Genre: Starts out Angsty, but becomes Fluff midway.  

No manga spoilers

Warnings: Urokodaki is kinda ooc if u squint enough, but it’s doting Grandpa Urokodaki so OuO;;;

--

It was a snowy day; the village was heavily covered with mountains of snow ranging from the rooftops to the stony ground. To everybody else, it was a day when kids could run wild and have fun in the winter season. Some might have made snowmen, others have made snow angels, and a few have gone as far as starting intense snowball fights.

For other children; yes. It was a perfect day just to go out and hang out with some friends. But not you.

You leaned against the hard stone wall, your fragile body shivering violently from the unforgiving winter cold. Clutching on your ragged and torn blanket even tighter, you sighed in exhaustion as a cold fog escaped from your mouth. You pushed your little figure to hug itself even tighter, trying desperately to warm yourself up, but to no avail.

You were filthy, hungry, and lonely. Looking up tiredly, you stared at the group of kids laughing and playing in the snow filled streets, never noticing once that there was a lone child in the corner that was shivering in the harsh cold. Your lips were pressed into a thin line, your eyebrows were scrunched together as you continued to eye the kids with underlying envy.

As each day passes by, you could gradually feel yourself decaying. What was once well tamed [H / C] hair was now heavily disheveled and filled with knots, clean [S / C] skin now filled with grime and dirt, and your once-vibrant [E / C] eyes sheds its childlike innocence and sparks the longer you suffer in the streets.

Tearing your lonely eyes away from the laughing children, you shifted your attention to the plush teddy bear beside you. It was the last present you ever got from your parents before they were violently murdered by a Demon. The first time you saw the toy, it looked so vibrant and new, but as months passed, it soon deteriorated and had lots of tears and holes in it.

Nevertheless, you still loved the toy to death.

Holding it close, your eyes eventually began to flutter as you gradually began to feel tired. A pained sob escaped from your lips as you struggled to fight back against tears threatening to escape your eyelids. You were completely drained that you lost your sense of your surroundings, as you overlooked the sound of snow crunching that was approaching you.

Soon enough, you felt a figure in front of you, and the delicious scent of hot tea reaches out to invade your senses. Slowly looking up, a man with a red Tengu mask was kneeling in front of you, extending out his hand to offer a cup of hot tea.

Your initial reaction was confusion; who was this man? Why was he there? Why was he offering you tea? You stared at him, your eyes flickering with uncertainty and slight hesitation. He grunts softly, apparently understanding your reluctance towards him.

"You are cold, are you not?" He speaks out, his gruff voice surprisingly filled with warmth and concern.

You were taken aback from the tone of his voice; nobody had talked to you like that in months.

You kept staring at him, your mind whirling around with conflicting thoughts. You felt so unsure if you were to trust this man; he was a total stranger! And you knew better than trusting strangers so easily. However, you could detect the radiant warmth coming from him. You could sense his intentions, and it felt so genuine and true.

Steadily, with your hands shaking, you lifted your palms to accept the cup. It was hot, but it was a comforting kind of warm. You placed the edge of the cup in your mouth, and you started drinking the tea. Heat started rushing all over your body as you kept finishing your drink.

He asks for your name, how you came about in the streets, and if you had anywhere else to go. After a brief silence, he asks where your parents were in a cautious tone.

Suddenly, visions of the dead bodies of your parents erupted in your mind, and you could feel that your chest was beginning to hurt again. The familiar feeling of overwhelming sorrow began to overwhelm you, a knot forming on your throat as the familiar feeling suffocated you once again. You couldn't stop a sob from escaping your mouth, and you attempted to hide in your ragged blanket as tears began to spill away from your eyelids. The man sees your discomfort, and places his hand on your little head to tenderly caress it in an effort to console you.

Then, little quick crunches of snow speedily approached you, as a warm and thick blanket was placed over you. Your tears came to a halt as the sensation of an unfamiliar blanket was draped over you, and you looked up to meet a pair of lavender eyes that belonged to a male child who looked about your age. The boy gave you sheepish smile, and he turned his gaze to the adult who was consoling you. You learned that the lavender-eyed boy's name is "Sabito", and the old man who generously offered you tea is "Urokodaki".

In a blink of an eye, you unexpectedly find yourself sitting in a ramen shop with a delicious Ramen bowl in front of you. Urokodaki, after hearing your stomach rumble with hunger, offered to buy you a meal at a nearby restaurant. Sabito expressed his enthusiasm at this, and after seeing how much he seemed to trust Urokodaki, your doubt and uncertainty seemed to fade away as you meekly accepted his offer.

At that moment, you could sense so much comfort and tenderness radiating from both of them. It's as if all the suffering you've experienced over the last few months had simply been washed away. Yet you were still hesitant; what if it was all just a joke? They had to leave at some point, and you were afraid that you would wound up again in the cold streets.

That is, until Urokodaki offered you to stay with him and Sabito.

They were kind enough to help you out in the streets. They fed you, and they gave you a new blanket for much needed heat as you rotted away. Nobody would help you, nobody even glanced at you. They could well have ignored you like everyone else, but no, they genuinely made an attempt to help you in such difficult circumstances.

So, you agreed to go with them. Which proved to be the greatest decision you ever made.

Urokodaki's cottage was situated on a mountain, and although it was small, they nevertheless did their best to make room for you.

The first few days have been rough. Despite living under the roof a being surrounded by warm blankets, you spent those days lying awake in cold sweat. You tried your best to adjust, you really did, but the familiar feeling of sitting on ice cold gravel never seemed to leave. Not only that, as soon as you try to shut your eyes to get some sleep, the images of your parents will flash in your head, leaving you a whimpering and sobbing mess.

With Urokodaki's keen sense of smell, he could smell your distress over a mile away. He knew that you had a hard time to adjust, it wasn't surprising. However, it pained him how absolutely strong your sorrowful scent was. He could hear your loud whimpers and sobs from your room, and he felt his chest ache from your suffering.  

But nothing could prepare him from what was happening behind your closed door.

There you were, thrashing around in your futon, blankets and pillows thrown haphazardly in every possible direction. Tears were continuously running down your face as you hiccuped and sobbed aggressively.

Urokodaki felt his breath hitch and, in a flash, he knelt at your side and softly raised your head to his lap. He placed a hand on your head, and he started to draw soothing circles to calm you down. Minutes passed, and it seemed like you had calmed down a bit, but tears were still running down your eyelids. After much thought, he started to sing a gentle lullaby, filling the room with soft hums and melodies.  

After a while, he felt you relax as you were finally greeted with sleep. In the corner of his eye, he saw you grip onto your worn out teddy bear even tighter, and made a mental thought to do something special that he hoped will lift your spirits up.

The next morning, you woke up, pleasantly surprised that you had a decent amount of sleep, given that you haven't had a good night's sleep in ages. When you started to come back to your senses, you felt another person in the room with you.

You shifted your body to face the unknown figure, only to be greeted with a sleeping Urokodaki. He was sleeping on the cold floor, his body laying just a few feet away from you.

Days pass by, and you found yourself growing closer to Urokodaki and Sabito. You spent most of your time Sabito, and it got to the point where you even considered him as your brother. He liked to play Sword Fights with you, proudly announcing his dream to become the best version a man could ever be.

On the other hand, Urokodaki acted more like a caretaker to you. He took care you, fed you meals day after day, buying you new clothes, and even went as far as carving you little trinkets and toys to play around with. Soon enough, the harsh winter had ended, and just like the colorful spring blossoms, you transformed into a bright and optimistic child again.

You were forever grateful for Urokodaki's generosity. So of course, you would always try to help out Urokodaki in anyway you can. Cleaning the house, taking care of the plants, accompanying him in travels, you name it.

There was never a dull day when both of them were around. Laughter always filled the cottage as you and Sabito ran around, while Urokodaki silently stood there, keeping a watchful eye on the two of you. If you looked close enough, you swear you could see a smile peeking through his mask.

You later learned that Urokodaki is a trainer for upcoming Demon Slayers. Urokodaki would tell you and Sabito stories of his adventures; and they never failed to entertain both of you. While Sabito was eager and excited for the day when Urokodaki would start training him, you were still deciding whether or not you would join him and become a Slayer yourself in the near future.

Stargazing was also a thing where you, Sabito, and Urokodaki would bond about. You and Sabito would lay your heads on Urokodaki's lap as the two of you would excitedly point at the stars above. Urokodaki would gently caress your heads every once in while, and he would occasionally talk about interesting facts about the stars and moon in the night sky.

Urokodaki is a man with few words. Naturally, he only spoke when absolutely necessarily, however, there is a saying that actions speak louder than words.

On nights where you would have nightmares, Urokodaki would immediately be there for you.

"It's all right, little one. You'll be okay. I'm here for you."

He 'd reassure you, comfort you, and sing you lullabies until you were overcome by sleep again. Without fail, whenever you needed him the most, he was always right on time.

One day, he took notice of your ragged and torn up teddy bear, and asked he could borrow it. At this point, you grew even closer to him, so you trusted him and let him borrow your precious toy.

After a long day of doing chores and playing with Sabito, you were all huddled up on a fire as you all ate your supper. Sabito was rambling about random things, and you were nodding and laughing as he continued on to explain things in a "manly" manner. Urokodaki sat there in silence, watching how the two of you seemed to get along so well made his heart swell with pride. He had a surprise for you, and he hoped that you would like it.

"[ Y / N ]." He spoke. You turned your head to face Urokodaki, and you felt yourself freeze in your spot as you noticed the object in his hands.

It was your teddy bear; all patched up and clean, just like how it looked like so long ago.

It looked like Urokodaki really outdid himself; there wasn't any tears and holes where it used to have, it's dull color had reverted back to the vibrancy it used to have, and its eyes were now full of life.

Warmth quickly spread over your chest as you continued gazing at your beloved teddy bear. A gasp of disbelief came out of your mouth as your eyes began to water. You couldn't contain yourself as you suddenly launched yourself in the direction of Urokodaki, capturing him tightly in a warm embrace. A big smile transformed your lips as you shouted out your gratitude to Urokodaki; the latter only laughing softly as he returned your embrace with utmost sincerity.

Slowly, he swayed side by side as you continued your assault at him. Sabito gazed at the two of you with a loving expression on his face, as well as the feeling of joy and love continuing to engulf him. Under his mask, Urokodaki felt the sides of his lips curled upward, as he also tried to fight back against the tears that threatened to fall as you continued to nuzzle on his shoulder.

Though, nothing could prepare him for the words that you would mutter out as tears sheer joy fell from his cheeks.

"Thank you. I love you, Urokodaki-san."

#Demon slayer x reader #Kny x reader #Demon slayer imagines #Urokodaki x reader #Sabito x reader #kny imagines #moji writes

[rat-father]

Part 6! FLUFF

No angst, just wholesome.

This one is a bit longer then the others. I wrote 2k words instead of the usual 1.3k

I was just really in a fluffy mood so it's kind of like a treat

Again, I didn't proofread so if you see mistakes then shhh

Tagging; @skunkandgrenade

-- tw;; it as pronoun, pet whump/captivity --

For Cub it was like master never disappeared in the first place, it just went back to its normal self no questions asked. For the others it wasn’t as easy.

Xanzi got some bad wounds that needed bandaging which made it hard to do mundane tasks at time, while Lexi tried her best to treat them. Lo went back to his own place while still being a bit upset with him.

The pet did stay a lot closer to master then before, and always tried to give a helping  hand. It was also allowed to sleep in his room for a couple days. If anything it was like its bond with him grew closer. And because of that he wanted to take it somewhere new, to the city! He bought a new harness for it knowing it would be busy as always, even on a quiet day.

“Are you excited?” Master asked, already knowing the answer.

It nodded it’s head with joy. It was allowed to go to the city for the first time! Master made sure it was well hydrated and wearing warm enough clothes before they left. It was gonna be just the two of them, they had the entire day for themselves. I also got to wear a new harness and leash which it thought looked  really pretty.

It even enjoyed the ride to the city. It stared out of the windows the entire way.

Xanzi felt bad for the pet to an extend, it had never even seen a city before, or any public place. But then again he didn’t care much, it was a great opportunity to bond with his pet and make it trust him even more, if that was even possible.

The parking lot what surprisingly empty, usually it was filled to the brim but today Xanzi managed to find a spot quite fast. He could see his pet already getting more excited in the corner of his eye.

“Alright, we’re here. I brought water so if ya get thirsty just tell me okay?”

“Yes master!”

“Good. If ya behave well we can go here more often.”

It started practically jumping in its seat, eager to go out and explore. Master stepped out first and took opened the door for it after. He clipped the leash on its harness and they started heading towards the city.

There were still quite a few people around which made it a bit anxious, so it stayed close to master and made sure to check if he was still there every now and then. After a bit of walking it saw a cute little shop selling tons of plushies and stuffed animals. It really wanted to go see it and dragged master along to it.

The walls were pastel yellow on the inside with relaxing music playing through speakers. It immediately went over to the sections with stuffed animals and looked at all of them with amazement. Some of them had pretty pinks, greens and purple mixed in with their fur and were glittery!

A pink narwhal caught its attention, it was big and fluffy and master said it was allowed to have it. It held the narwhal in its arms as it continued looking around the store.

Aside from plushies and stuffed animals, the store also sold clothing. The pet knew it didn’t need new clothing, but a frog hat really intrigued it and it just couldn’t help itself. Everything there was so pretty and it could stay there for hours, but it also wanted to explore more of the city. Master paid for everything and they continued down the city, narwhal in hand and frog hat on.

There were street performers playing outside and Cub wanted to listen for a bit. Of course it never had heard music before so it was very amazed at the songs they were playing. When they were done Xanzi gave them 20 euros before the pet dragged them further.

It stopped in front of a pet shop, it seemed a bit unsure, but hesitantly went inside. At first it walked slowly, until it saw it the toy section which it basically darted to, almost making Xanzi fall out of shock. With its free hand it held up a small mushroom chew toy in front of his face.

“Ya want that one bud?”

“Yes please, master.”

He faked thinking about it for a second. “Alright, I guess you can have it.”

It smiled as they walked up to the cash register to pay. The cashier lady was nice and complimented the pet on how cute it looked as master paid.

It couldn’t wait to see more of the city, everything looked beautiful and the weather was perfect for a walk. Sometimes it would just stop and admire some of the trees or buildings, which master thought was just adorable. He couldn’t help but wonder whether all pets were like this, or if it was just his pet that was this curious.

Cub lightly tugged on master’s sleeve trying to get his attention.

“Hm? What is it pet?”

“It is hungry, can it have food please, master?”

“We can stop at a cafe and get some food there if you want.”

It frowned, looking confused. “What is a cafe, master?”

It didn’t know what a cafe was, of course.

“It’s a place where you can get food and drinks. You’ll see.”

Xanzi knew the city by heart, he lived there for most of his life before buying his mansion. There were tons of cafes nearby. They went to the one that was the most quiet, he didn’t want his pet to get overwhelmed.

In the cafe the pet got a lot of weird stares, pets were a common thing, just not often seen outside. Or in good condition.

Master ordered it a slice of cake and cola, with coffee for himself.

It didn’t take it long to finish its cake, it was starving and it tasted really good. But it waited a bit before drinking the cola, it didn’t understand why there were bubbles going up. Master told it to just try it, that it wasn’t something to worry about. The taste was, odd, but it liked it.

Master suggested they’d go to the nearby art shop too. He thought it might like drawing or painting. It didn’t know what drawing or painting was, but if master said it was fun then it must be fun.

The art shop was significantly bigger then the other stores, it was also packed with all kinds of stuff. The pet wasn’t sure where to look first, this was all new to it. It look at its master, hoping for some directions. Luckily he got the sign and directed it towards a shelf with different types of sketchbooks. They all had things written on them but it couldn’t read. Master picked one out for it and handed it to them. It had a nice yellow cover with a cat on it.

”Do you like this one?”

“Yes master. It’s very pretty.”

Master also showed it some colored pencils, he said it could use them to draw anything it wanted in the book. It still didn’t quite understand but it sounded like fun.

The store also had an upstairs area with big white blocks, master called them canvases. Apparently people painted stuff on them with brushes and different types of paint. It all sounded confusing and complicated.

When they were done there he took it to a book store. He wanted to teach it how to read and needed some books for it.

It didn’t like the book store very much, it felt like there were endless amounts of books everywhere it looked. It was too overwhelming. It held onto master’s arm with one hand and hugged its narwhal plushie with the other.

Master didn’t take long to find what he needed so they weren’t in there for too long.

“Master? Its feet are starting to hurt.”

”Let’s head back home then, I’m also getting kinda tired.”

Master held its hand as they made their way back to the car. It had a big smile on its face, master rarely held its hand, it loved it when he did.

The walk back made its feet hurt even more, but they stopped to get ice cream which made it easier to deal with. Ice cream had always been its favorite.

The drive home was very relaxing to Cub, it had spend all its energy in the city and now it could just sit and watch the sky while cuddling with the narwhal.

Master didn’t talk to it while driving which it was fine with. The soft music playing from the radio made it even better.

It didn’t notice it had fallen asleep until it felt the car stop moving.

“Ya took a nice nap?”

Oh no. It slept without permission. Was master mad?

“Sorry master. It didn’t mean to.”

”It’s fine dear,” he gave it a polite chuckle. “You can sleep whenever you want. I don’t mind, understood?”

“Yes master, thank you.”

He took it out of the car and walked it back to the mansion. It hurried off to its room to put its new plushie and toy away. It was excited to try this ‘drawing’ thing out with master.

It came back downstairs with the sketchbook and colored pencils in hand. Lexi cleared some room on the table for it so it could dump the pencils out of the box. It opened the sketchbook and, felt a bit lost. Where was it supposed to start?

”Just make some lines, whatever you want. There’s no right or wrong.” Master reassured it.

It picked up a purple pencil and went for it. The paper felt smooth each stroke it made, it was a nice feeling. It wasn’t entirely sure what is was drawing at first, but it was drawing it! Next it took a blue pencil and continued scribbling on the paper. It then set the pencils down and held the sketchbook up to master sitting in front of it.

”Master, look! I drew narwhal!” It had a proud smile on its face.

“Wow, that looks amazing! You’re a really great artist.”

He was lying, of course, but it didn’t matter if it look good anyway, the pet was having fun, and that’s what was important.

It giggled and continued scribbling with other colors on the next page. He was right to assume drawing was something it would like. It never got the chance to be a child, so he would give it to them.

Lexi joined them after an hour of the pet drawing various things on the white pages.

“You guys are having fun drawing I see.”

The pet silently nodded, not taking its eyes off the drawing it was working on. It was drawing the mansion, but with all types of colors.

It finished it and showed it to both master and the maid who said they loved it.

Eventually it was time for dinner and Cub had to stop drawing, it didn’t want to stop, but it didn’t want to be a bad pet either.

Master said it could continue drawing after it was done with dinner. It was looking forward to it.

Bonus;

It wasn’t long before Cub became obsessed with art, drawing specifically. It really enjoyed scribbling in its sketchbook and then showing it to its master with a proud smile. And like any good master would do, he put its best drawings on the fridge. 

#pet whump #whumpee #whump #comfort #Cub is bean #new skill unlocked: drawing #finally the bean gets the fluff they deserve #I loved writing this #more fluff later??

[wherefancytakesme]

“Mistakes”

(BOYD gets to spend the afternoon with Gyro, then Mark Beaks shows up and brings on emotions that BOYD has never had to face before.)

The day so far had been one of harmless goings-on and quiet excitement. BOYD went to school with his adoptive brother Doofus Drake, for once not being as much the studious little database he always was in class—he was going to meet with Gyro Gearloose and Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera after school, and it filled him to the brim with joy.

Since the day he’d reunited with his creator, BOYD loved spending time with the scientist, always awaiting a time when he would call the Drakes over the phone and ask to pick their ‘younger’ son up and bring him to the underwater lab. Gyro always said he needed to perform regular checkups and maintenance on the little android, but BOYD was hoping secretly that it was also about spending time together; The doctor was becoming gentler now that everything in the past was behind them.

Regardless, BOYD’s feet were bouncing lightly under his desk with the anticipation of it all the way until the final school-bell rang—any excuse to see Gyro, someone he considered so close, gave his mechanical heart inexplicable delight.

Finally when class had let out for the day, BOYD took Doofus’ hand, smiling, and pulled him gently along.

“Come on, come on, big brother! Dr. Gearloose and Dr. Crackshell-Cabrera are waiting outside!”

Doofus grunted. His parents had strictly told him to be on his nicest behavior in front of Scrooge McDuck’s scientist, especially for his little brother’s sake—and to say nothing at all if he hadn’t anything nice to say—or else not expect any dessert for the next several weeks. He threw a fit, of course, but eventually resigned to not ruin anything for BOYD—or his chance at still being allowed to eat an ice cream float every night—and let BOYD have all the ice cream for himself.

Some part of Doofus’ subconscious didn’t mind the constant company of someone his own age. But all the unpleasantness that buried such feelings from his thoughts and actions that proved Louie Duck right kept the boy from understanding any of that, and so he simply allowed BOYD to pull him along—small as he was, the android could easily overtake his brother—and decided to be pouty but uncharacteristically quiet the rest of the day—though not altogether unhappy.

When the two boys reached the front gate, Gyro and Fenton were waiting at the entrance. The latter grinned and waved a friendly hand. The former smiled a bit more visibly than he’d have liked to when BOYD ran out to him.

“Dr. Gearloose!” BOYD called out, immediately throwing his arms around Gyro’s knees.

The gesture pushed Gyro to hide his previous smile by putting a fist to his mouth and clearing his throat. But his tone wasn’t harsh.

“It’s nice to see you, 2BO—er—BOYD.”

He had no idea how to greet Doofus Drake, however. He groaned with his mouth closed, awkwardly, and looked away, but Doofus had nothing to say either anyway.

“Are we going to the lab right away?” BOYD asked with bright eyes.

“Well I have an errand to run in town first, but it shouldn’t take long.”

Fenton chimed in;

“We could make a fun outing of it! Uh—nothing that would deviate from the plan, of course,” he said drawing back once Gyro side-eyed him, “Just something to do while Dr. Gearloose is busy.”

“Yeah, like find a local landmark to learn about!” BOYD did some drawing back of his own when he noticed his brother pout, but did so more graciously than nervously as compared to Gyro’s assistant. “Or maybe there will be a park nearby!” He smiled more when he noticed his brother’s frown fade a small amount.

“Whatever we do,” interjected Gyro, “Stay close to me. I do not want everyone running all over and taking up too much time.”

BOYD’s sunny smile remained as he put his hands behind his back, determined to be well-behaved.

“Yessir, Dr. Gearloose!”

About twenty minutes of walking had led the group of four to an obscure electronics store. Gyro needed a special kind of copper wire before going back to the lab and his odd specifications were hard to meet. While he spent his time inside, Fenton and the boys went to the adjacent shop to buy ice cream. Gyro had told them not to wander off, so once both kids had a cone of their own, they walked out to wait for the doctor.

It had taken several minutes longer than usual for the store owner to fetch what he needed, but by the time he had his purchase in hand, Gyro pondered over taking another minute or two to browse recreationally for spare parts. However, the thought was suddenly halted by the sound of a piercing shriek from outside.

“BUT I DON’T LIKE PISTACHIO!”

Gyro’s whole body jumped at the sound before he bolted out the door to see what the commotion was.

Oh.

Of course. Doofus Drake was throwing another tantrum, shaking his ice cream cone violently.

“Then why did you ask for it?” Fenton asked, confounded.

Gyro ground his teeth and rubbed his middle and index fingers against his temples. But the eyes he’d at first squinted shut opened back up when he heard the screaming stop at a kind voice.

“It’s okay, big brother. I’ll eat yours and we’ll trade!”

BOYD had a warm little grin on his face, holding out his hand.

“Fine!” snapped the spoiled drake, fuming as he thrust the treat into his brother’s hand. “You wanted to try a new flavor of ice cream anyway!”

This caught Gyro’s attention particularly. That little brat shouldn’t be forcing something on a robot who wasn’t built for consumption. He approached, and took on a less-than-pleasant tone that now commonly became him.

“Ice cream?” the chicken asked, twisting his face, “2B—er, BOYD, doesn’t eat.”

“I don’t need to,” answered BOYD, “I like to! My big brother told me about all the different kinds, and now every time I eat a new one, I add it to my memory. It’s fun!”

There were so many words in there that Gyro had to take a moment to think over. First and foremost, it was still mystifying why someone like BOYD and someone like Doofus Drake would consider eachother brothers—leaving aside that the former was much older than the latter. But he chuckled mentally a bit at the association between ‘memory’ and ‘fun’. The only other boy he knew who thought like that was Huey Duck, and it was nice that he and the android had found someone like the other. It felt nice too that such a thought could soften him back up again and make his migraine go away.

But Gyro wondered what eating must really be like for BOYD—he didn’t remember programming BOYD specifically to eat, but on a technical level, he supposed it was possible, given the way he’d built him.

“Can you taste it at all?” he said looking down at BOYD now, curious at the answer.

“Yeah! It was actually only recently I first had ice cream. I didn’t know I could taste anything until then, but it seemed to register, and I really liked it! So when I got home, I asked about it, and now I get to have it every day!”

Gyro didn’t realize how much he’d been missing out on the little boy’s life. Even the very first tests he’d run on him didn’t experiment with things like taste, or smell. Body temperature, vision, maybe—but those were comparable to how a computer would run. Gyro had made BOYD with sentient, behavioral programming, but he supposed he never put any of it into practice, in a real-world scenario. Part of that may have been Dr. Akita’s fault, but… Well, Gyro didn’t want to make excuses for what he did and didn’t do back then.

It was strange—and a little sad; BOYD went twenty whole years unaware of whether or not he lacked the sensation of taste, and Gyro wasn’t there when he finally tried. Gyro knew every single robotic modification BOYD had—from the USB drives in his fingertips, to the blasters throughout his body—he’d put every one of them to the test, but how often did he actually take the child outside the old laboratory? Did the small creature have any memory of Tokyolk before his core was overridden?

Quickly Gyro shook any dwelling thoughts from his mind. No matter. He was making up for it now.

At least he hoped so.

All of a sudden, Gyro felt someone bump against his side, sending him back into the conscious world with a jolt. He made a startled squeak, which embarrassed—and therefore slightly angered him.

“Can’t you watch where you’re—Oh.”

The scientist wrinkled his face with annoyance when he turned and saw a slightly younger man on a self-balancing scooter.

“It’s you.”

There was no mistaking it. Sleek cardigan, large overconfident eyebrows, phone in hand… It was Mark Beaks.

Mark Beaks blinked when addressed. He had no doubt everyone knew who he was, but the lanky chicken facing him seemed to be acting like he’d met him before.

“Oh heeeeey… Uh, do I know you? Probably, right? You see so many faces every day when you’re this famous, they kinda all just blend in, y’know?”

Gyro looked up at Beaks with half-lidded eyes.

“Dr. Gyro Gearloose? Scientist of Scrooge McDuck? You’ve stolen and modified my tech about four different times?”

Beaks looked up and narrowed his eyes, stumped.

Gyro sniffed. Mark Beaks had pointed him out in public several times; This was quite obviously being done to wind him up. “Perhaps he looks familiar to you?” he said, throwing a hand out to gesture at BOYD.

“Ohh yeah! You built that guy? No wonder he went all terminator on me!”

Again Gyro responded sarcastically, with more of a scoff this time.

“That is not my fault. Likely you reprogrammed his hard-drive and rewrote his memories so many times, one simple question overwhelmed him to the point that he couldn’t even tell a person from a flyswatter.”

“Ugh, whatever.” Beaks said, waving his hand, “If you make faulty robots and don’t wanna keep the improvements I put in there, that’s on you. Kid was pretty popular online though. I mean, come on!”

Mark Beaks pointed back and forth between himself and BOYD with both of his index fingers.

“He looks just like me!”

When Beaks acknowledged the android a few feet in front, suddenly two yellow eyes stared back. A little gasp emitted from the little black beak that was previously opened to eat ice cream. BOYD hadn’t seen his older doppelganger since the day he met Doofus Drake. His whole face suddenly beamed with cheeriness at a familiar face.

“Da—”

He bit off the word ‘Daddy’. That was a memory overwrite, he knew now. Still, he was happy.

“Mr. Beaks!”

BOYD instantly ran over to the addressee to jump up and hug him. Beaks just as instantly wheeled back with his scooter board, holding his palms up.

“Woah-ho-hooooh, don’t like touching, remember? What was the number one rule?”

Oh. Right. Remembering that made BOYD’s smile fade.

“No hugs?”

“Exactly, see? You’ve still got some of the good ol’ Beaks programming clunking around in there somewhere!”

Gyro rolled his eyes at a statement like that, but for BOYD it started to set a certain train of thought in motion; Mark Beaks had programmed him to be like his son. At the time, he had felt like it, not simply had it wired into his head, but… now that he thought about the standoffish way the young adult was acting, was that all he was to him? Like a son?

That couldn’t be true, could it?

“Um, Mr. Beaks?” BOYD said, voice starting to grow more shy, “I know things are different now—the two of us living separate lives and everything—but even so, would it be okay if I still spent time with you once in a while?”

Beaks sucked his teeth at BOYD.

“Ooh, no can do, sport. See, if we’re not family, there’s kinda no point anymore. Nobody looks at pics of me just hanging with some rando kid, y’know? Outside that, I’m like super busy all the time, sooo…”

“But… Didn’t you have fun with me?”

“Sure, I did all kinds of awesome stuff in a whole day! Took lots of great selfies!”

BOYD faced the ground at that response, trying to process it. All the words were simple, but slowly, they triggered the most complex of memories… ______________________________

The first memory he had after the incident in Tokyolk was the faint recognition of someone’s voice in the garbage dump he’d evidently wound up in. He didn’t know what was going on, and had no recollection of where he came from, how he worked, or hardly even who he was. All he could bring to mind was an assigned identification number—2BO—and a gut feeling that he was a definitely real boy.

But when the voice came closer, BOYD felt his OS booting up again—his processor bringing things back online. What life he may or may not have had before, he knew not. He only understood that there was reason to be up and running now—alive. These feelings hadn’t manifested into thoughts at first—and then he heard the moving figure above him make a noise. When BOYD parroted back the mimicry of lasers, it was purely instinctual—technological sounds, technological creature. But it made someone notice him. It made someone marvel at him. It made someone give him a real name. It made someone want to take him home. That someone was Mark Beaks.

Even if he had only programmed into him the title of ‘father’, the wealthy parrot was the first person he knew to give him somewhere to live. With or without his original memories, BOYD had never really had an actual home before. He’d never had anyone so willingly look after him like a normal kid—like their kid. In many ways, both literal and figurative, Mark Beaks was the first person to be a parent to BOYD. Even lacking the memory of Akita’s cruelty and Gyro’s hesitance, when BOYD was around Mark Beaks, he felt like someone’s son with no hint of abandonment for the first time in his life.

Yet some underlying doubt lie buried, deep down in one of the many corners of his mind that BOYD didn’t have access to—only this one wasn’t blocked by another person’s override. Anytime he called out ‘Daddy’, Beaks didn’t always turn around right away. He might look confusedly around the room, or take a second or two to respond. And even then, he didn’t seem to say things other than ‘Hey you’, or ‘Need something?’—they were happy, but one-sided. BOYD didn’t think about that then. He was just glad to have family, and to have anything a kid could ask for.

But that was another thing that suddenly made BOYD think. The two days he’d spent with his new father were the best of his whole life; He spent time at an office filled with apparatuses to play on, candy to eat, and places to nap everywhere—even if he didn’t need to nap. Then for the rest of the day, the two Greys went all over Duckburg having fun—eating, playing, exploring… And still, through everything, there didn’t seem to be a connection. When BOYD and Beaks spent time at a show, flew kites, or wore novelty hats, the latter was always taking pictures with the former in them, but seemingly never with him. BOYD was too distracted by the thrill of spending time with someone he considered family to notice before, but now that Beaks worded it the way he did, only mentioning the fun he himself had that day, the signs were becoming obvious. He never once touched him—never once looked at him when he took those selfies—BOYD might as well have been a part of the background.

Come to think of it, did Mark Beaks ever touch BOYD? His biggest aversion, which he’d made clear several times, was touching, after all; The hopes of the first hug BOYD thought he’d ever had at the time were straightaway brushed off. Maybe once or twice, when he needed to be kept from getting wet or from going haywire… But otherwise, the man hardly paid physical attention to him. He didn’t want to feed into the worry that was always secretly there, but the recollection of everything made it impossible now. It hurt BOYD so badly to consider that he was only there to serve a purpose—as he had been his whole life—after all. He couldn’t remember Beaks saying his name, he couldn’t remember Beaks saying something gentle to him… Sometimes if he didn’t act the part he was made to, Beaks would scold him. He tried to avoid calling to mind that once, Beaks struggled to even remember the familial title under which BOYD was programmed.

“Yeah, I love this… What was it again? Uhh, uh, son!”

Oh no.

Mark Beaks never even said the words, ‘I love you’.

But no. No, it couldn’t be true that he didn’t at least care about BOYD, it just couldn’t. It was painful all the same, though, no matter how trusting and unassuming a child BOYD was.

He had to know. He wanted just a little word of assurance that he was wrong, that it was all in his head, that it was just worry that came with twenty years of feeling unloved. Even if Mark Beaks saw him as means for attention first, surely there was some sort of fatherly instinct left over from caring for someone made to be for all concerned his family.

BOYD was feeling some sort of physical discomfort he couldn’t pinpoint when he made his next inquiry, as if he was swallowing something down.

“Mr. Beaks,” he questioned, blue irises still fixed on the ground and fingers toying with one another, “Do you…”

He swallowed physically this time.

“Do you love me…?”

Mark Beaks’ face froze, and before answering made a noise somewhere between the word ‘I’, and an ‘Uh’.

“Kid, what kind of question is that? I don’t do the whole affection thing, okay? Much less with someone who’s not even in my entourage anymore.”

Oh, that hurt. That hurt far too much. Normally with Dr. Akita’s overriding, emotional triggers like this would have BOYD glitching. But that wasn’t there anymore. He was open to feel whatever a boy would feel any time he wanted now, without malfunctions and without something to block his true childlike wiring—too open, perhaps, because now instead of his mind going blank over spiritual pain, his mind would take in every single thought that set him off, and fester. What Beaks said to him now was festering. It made him feel vulnerable. Even if it didn’t hurt or scare him as much as when Gyro told him he was going to shut him down for good, or when Gyro constantly put him down, there was nothing to keep BOYD from blacking out afterward anymore. The feelings over Mark Beaks’ statement were flooding all throughout him.

“But…” BOYD persisted still, wanting some sort of kindness—at least for a fresh start. “Couldn’t we at least be on friendly terms? Isn’t there anything you like about me?”

“Aw come on, little man, it’s not like I was letting you get close to begin with. You’ve got other rich people and tech geeks to be with now. So you don’t need me and I don’t need you.” The man crossed his arms.

If any justice could be done, it might be stated here that the biggest reason Mark Beaks was beginning to act more and more bitter with the small child was out of a sour-grapes mentality. Visible weakness wasn’t characteristic of the young trend-chaser, but in a situation like this, where something he genuinely found impressive and thought he’d made his own had been lost to him, and had been left in the hands of someone else he barely knew—knowing that a technological wonder like BOYD was something he could no longer have—Beaks was annoyed, and he would never dare let it show through. Instead he increased his shallowness ten-fold.

Poor little BOYD’s eyes went wide, wanting so terribly not to believe what he was being told, wanting so desperately not to be outright rejected by someone he’d let himself previously grow so attached to. He looked into Beaks’ black eyes, searching for some kind of reassurance in spite of only hearing cruelty. He wanted so much to hear something that would make the building pain he’d never understood before shrink down.

“But,” he said, voice more quiet and in disbelief than he could ever remember expressing, “You gave me a name. You took me home with you. I was like your family.”

Mark Beaks rolled his eyes back, looking only more annoyed that the little creature almost forced him into guilt with such words.

“No way, kid. I just scooped you out of the trash because I thought I could make something out of you. But four-eyes over there took out all the mods I made to begin with—the new voice I gave you isn’t even there anymore. Hate to say it, but without any of that, you don’t mean anything to me.”

He shrugged his shoulders, talking for a minute more so to himself than anyone, but nonetheless just as aloud as before.

“Guess all the time I put into you was a waste. ‘Least with everything else, I got some money or permanent attention out of it.” Beaks blew air out through his nostrils almost like a laugh when he thought about it. “Jeez, kid, you were my worst investment.”

BOYD didn’t know what the feeling was, but those awful words broke something within him. His face tensed up. The tightness in his chest started to swell. All that desperation to disprove his first proper parent didn’t actually care about him, all that pain welling up inside him the more said person shot down attempt after attempt for requited affection… And now he’d dealt him a blow like that? Mark Beaks had thoroughly destroyed his spirit—he might as well have slapped him in the face. And incidentally, his face started to burn. BOYD had no idea what this meant, but the reaction was involuntary. It hurt so much, he couldn’t understand. The heat concentrated in his eyes. His nose and mouth trembled as he faced his former caretaker. A warm, salty liquid began slowly to fill his eyes and then roll down his cheeks.

BOYD was crying. ______________________________

All the time Beaks had been talking, Gyro and Fenton had been narrowing their eyes in anger and darting them back and forth between the two parrots facing one another, the taller one saying nastier and nastier things to the smaller one. Neither Fenton nor Gyro knew quite what to say or do, or how to intervene—for Fenton in particular because he also had to keep an eye on Doofus Drake, who any second could stop being content licking the inside of his ice cream cone and go ballistic again. It irritated him that he had to keep his mind on such a small matter when clearly there were bigger fish to fry at the moment—and also a little bit that BOYD’s adoptive brother didn’t seem to be noticing how much he was hurting.

Gyro wanted to speak up at some point, but couldn’t bring any words into his head.

And then out of the blue, when Mark Beaks had finally pushed innocent BOYD to a breaking point, the tiny thing cried. He cried.

Gyro’s heart stopped dead in its figurative tracks.

His eyes went wide and dropped their gaze to the ground. This was something he had no idea was physically possible. An invention of his had been, through instinct alone, pushed to actually cry. He didn’t understand. He didn’t specifically write that sort of thing into BOYD’s coding when he made him—certainly Akita didn’t put that in—so then what? BOYD was a definitely real boy, but, to this extent? Gyro wanted to react, to do something for the boy, to get angry at Beaks, but everything failed him. He was stock still, frozen with a horrible blend of shock and concern.

Meanwhile, BOYD continued to stare up at Beaks as tears stained his face, disbelief and utter heartache consuming everything from the waist up.

The first reaction was when Doofus Drake turned and took notice of what he had been sure was a robot his parents adopted, somehow leaking sadness out of his eyes. The Drake boy physically reeled back, socially perturbed.

“Agh, he’s broken!” he yelled, unable to understand, “Do something and fix it!”

Fenton reacted second, clenching his hands into fists, intent on indeed doing something to ‘fix it’, but not the way Doofus imagined. He held back solely on the basis that Gyro was going to say something.

But Beaks was the immediate one to react next.

“Yikes, buddy,” he said to BOYD, backing up uncomfortably. He didn’t mean to make anyone cry, but then again, he didn’t think BOYD could feel anything that real. “It’s not my fault a lack of Beaks tech makes you basically worthless.”

Where Gyro normally would have gotten angry, this time Fenton stood in—he saw that the doctor was too dumbstruck to do so for now. But Fenton was certain both of them were equally as angry.

“What on earth are you thinking saying that to his face,” he snapped, “He’s a kid!”

Mark Beaks shrugged, as if his next reply was a matter of fact.

“Well I mean yeah, but like, not a real one…”

Each adult’s face in present company sneered at Beaks. That was the final straw. With that, Gyro Gearloose was finally able to pull himself out of his stunned state and draw up the emotion to straighten his back and snatch BOYD’s hand, dragging him away. Whatever he was thinking or wasn’t able to think at the moment didn’t matter. This child wasn’t going to be tortured by being here any longer.

“Cabrera, you take Doofus Drake home and get rid of this…” He struggled to find the words; “this, while I take BOYD back to the lab.”

Fenton nodded, determined, as Gyro stormed off, leaving Beaks to be thoroughly dealt with. ______________________________

The walk back to the underwater lab wasn’t a long one, but when Gyro wasn’t seething mad, he would look down at BOYD and notice a look on the boy’s face not dissimilar to his own from earlier—it contained surprise, the fearful kind, as if he didn’t know he could shed tears either. He didn’t look up at his creator, even though he followed the aggressive tug of his arm compliantly, and he didn’t try to wipe at his face. He seemed, again, to be having the same sort of shock that tried to question what in the world was happening to him.

When the two finally did make it inside, Gyro relinquished his tight grip on BOYD’s hand, picked him up by the waist, and sat him down on his center loft work desk.

“BOYD,” he said directly, but not ungently, “Keep your face still for a moment, okay?”

Gyro cupped the little creature’s face in his hand, taking a moment to peer into the huge ovate orbs that were wet as ever. There was nothing physically wrong with them… Nothing functionally wrong with them… Lightly touching the substance that had wavered within them didn’t seem to prove this was some sort of fluid leak. As far as Gyro could tell, these were tears, plain as plain.

So then how was that possible? It wasn’t as if the scientist had actually sat down and built a mechanical version of every single organic function an ordinary person had when constructing BOYD—he and Akita wanted a defense drone—but he knew the little one had an approximation of a heart, and bones, and lungs, and other such things; He was an android, which meant he was deliberately supposed to resemble other people in addition to all the access ports and ribbon wire. Still. Things like tear ducts, taste buds, the need to sleep? Gyro didn’t physically install those things into him. Now a possibility occurred to him. He decided to address BOYD again.

“Can you tell me… Can you tell me everything you’ve been feeling since you talked to Mark Beaks? I know it might be hard, but I need you to try for me.”

BOYD felt Gyro place both hands on one of his. It was the first time the doctor had engaged him like that, and it brought on a warm confusion in spite of the pain he still felt at his core. BOYD’s teary eyes were trained on the floor when he started to analyze what kind of things that pain entailed.

“I’ve… been feeling…” he began, voice thin and shaky, “Sad… and overwhelmed… and afraid… and alone, and… and confused… Before, when I had programming issues, I would start to malfunction anytime something hurt me. But now instead of glitches coming on that I can’t control, it’s more like…”

BOYD’s whole body started to shiver. “It’s more like something my heart can’t control, I guess? Not literally, but, I…”

His vision grew blurry and his voice shakier than ever. “I don’t have anything holding me back from losing emotional control, and I don’t understand. What Mr. Beaks said really hurt, but… I’ve been told things that made me lonely and sad before. I don’t know why I’m only reacting this way now.”

BOYD shut his eyes, rubbing at them as he made a little whimper. “I’m sorry, Dr. Gearloose. I know that doesn’t help. The only other thing I know when I think about all this is that it scares me.”

Gyro felt choked up. He wanted to react beyond keeping his hands palmed over the one BOYD wasn’t wiping his own face with, but twenty years of distrust and cynicism had clouded his ability to be as kind as he used to. But that answer actually helped Gyro a lot. Before, he remembered BOYD saying something about eating—he didn’t need to, but he liked to—that he wondered whether or not he was able to taste, but it ‘seemed to register’. Gyro then supposed while he didn’t build BOYD to eat, it wasn’t impossible given the way he was made; He likely found some sort of place in his structure to double as a stomach, being that he was basically the same as any other boy.

This was what made it click in Gyro’s brain. He had programmed BOYD, for all intents and purposes, to be a living child. Even if the actual hardware wasn’t there, even if Gyro hadn’t thought of specifics when creating… Akita called it ‘real boy programming’—there were things within BOYD that could adapt, and apparently had adapted, themselves to become a part of his sentient reactions and behavior—there were things inside him that manifested because at the end of the day, BOYD was… well, BOYD was a boy.

BOYD wasn’t crying because he was built for it. He was crying because all boys were built for it.

Oh god. A realization like that sent a heavy weight into Gyro’s chest. This wasn’t just some invention that was child-like he’d made, as he initially thought two decades ago. He had brought a life into the world.

He was responsible for every bad thing that life would ever face, because he was the one responsible for ever having made something that could feel, could want, could hurt. Why hadn’t he once considered that when wiring sentience into a body? Gyro felt sick to his stomach.

Yet here was BOYD sitting on a desk, afraid because he wasn’t ever told what would happen if he was sad enough—as if crying was normal, but not for him.

“Dr. Gearloose…?” The timid squeaks in BOYD’s broken voice coupled with glumness on every part of his face made Gyro feel pain in every inch of his body. “Is there something wrong with me?”

Shocked as he was still, an automatic reaction came on that brought Gyro to dry the small creature’s eyes. This reaction, too, shocked him.

“No—no,” he answered nonetheless, just as reactionary.

“Really?”

The nervousness in that inquiry pushed Gyro on. What he was grappling with wasn’t important. There was a child in front of him, needing to be consoled. And while he normally was awkward with children—with people in general, really—Gyro knew about BOYD at least from a technical aspect. He wasn’t a medical doctor, but he did have a doctorate in mechanical engineering. He could work from there—he knew hardly anything about children from a biological standpoint, anyway. In a way, BOYD being an android worked to his advantage here. Gyro sobered up mentally and placed both hands on the little one’s shoulders.

“Yes,” he replied, surprised with himself that he was able to sound so matter-of-fact so quickly. He tried as hard as he could to sound gentle too. “Besides your internal structure, you are otherwise indistinguishable from organic life. You have thoughts and feelings, wants and needs. It’s inherent for you to be sad just as any normal boy would—because that’s what you are.”

BOYD looked back at the ground for a moment, then up at Gyro again, putting his tiny hand over the fold of the man’s thin elbow. There was something he wanted to know—there was still pain in his chest that was building up beyond his control.

“Then…” he asked with teary, pleading eyes, “Can I cry a little more?”

Gyro wished that he knew just what to say—his heart ached so much to hear such a little boy ask for permission to feel—but he simply gave a pitying, guilty, yet mostly obligatory, “Yes.”

That one word of acceptance sent BOYD over the edge. A little hiccup escaped him, and what had previously been only silent tears that fell on their own turned into a full-on fit. BOYD covered his face and wept.

Gyro tried and failed to swallow the lump in his throat when he saw BOYD truly cry for the first time. But in under a minute, his creation said something that brought him to accommodate without a single thought.

“Dr. Gearloose? I know you said back in Tokyolk that hugging was just for that day, but—”

BOYD was interrupted when Gyro immediately drew him in with a one-armed hug, bringing him close and holding him tight. BOYD in turn drew himself closer to his creator, no longer holding back.

BOYD’s little cries then were soft and whining, innocent and unhinged in the way that became any child. Any time he needed to sniff or dry his eyes, he buried his face into Gyro’s chest, and sunk his tiny fingers deep into his vest. The length in each wail that came on now and again reflected the fact that BOYD had never cried before, and that he was discovering in the moment just how much he needed to all this time.

Poor BOYD, Gyro thought, barely ever allowed to simply hug anyone before. He was the sweetest living creature Gyro had ever known—always smiling so jubilantly and talking politely to everyone and everything—and yet so many people met him only with malice? That was far too unfair.

Oh.

But then, that was exactly what he’d done, wasn’t it? He’d so readily assumed when Inspector Tezuka brought BOYD down that he’d created something evil—he’d thought the evidence was everywhere, quite literally. But couldn’t it have been just as easy to think that someone like Dr. Akita who’d turned out to be a known criminal could have been responsible? Couldn’t Gyro have at least considered for a second that it wasn’t BOYD’s fault and defended him more? But he hadn’t. Instead he’d let his young mind believe everything his former mentor drilled into his head; His inventions were weapons, plain and simple, and nothing would change the fact that that would be a part of him the rest of his life—that he would always know somewhere in the back of his mind that he was just a big screw-up. And Gyro had taken that out on BOYD. He’d turned his anger and fear over himself and projected it into anger and fear over his first real invention. He’d defended inventions like Lil’ Bulb to the last ditch—even when the evidence they were turning evil was just as seemingly apparent, if not more so. Even they weren’t referred to as failures. All that bitter sarcasm and unkindness that became a part of who he was had all been based on nothing. When they’d reunited, he lashed out at BOYD over and over again, scornful whenever he even looked at him, refusing to call him anything other than an ‘it’, saying he was dangerous to his very core, saying he didn’t have feelings—even when the sadness and frightened tentative motions in his expression and body were clear as day—he even said straight to BOYD’s face that he was going to ‘fix’ his malfunctions by essentially flat-out killing him.

Gyro was furious when Mark Beaks made BOYD cry. But the first person to ever treat him inhumanely, was Gyro himself. It made him feel so unbearably guilty he almost couldn’t breathe. No matter what his eyes would look like anytime Akita’s programming kicked in—those things weren’t even there anymore. Anytime Gyro thought back, those big eyes were always so full of light—light of happiness, of sadness, of kindness, of intelligence, of innocence. How could he have ever looked at eyes like that—eyes that were capable of producing tears—and thought BOYD was evil?

Even if the child wouldn’t say so, Gyro knew there must still exist an ache within him over being rejected by the person that gave him life. He owed it to him to make it known just how sorry he was for it—even if the words kept getting jammed in the middle of his throat.

“BOYD,” he faltered, though it was now becoming easier to call him by his real name, “I need to apologize for the way I treated you back then. I know Mark Beaks hurt you when he told you that you weren’t worth his time. But the awful things I’ve said to you… they’re no different.”

BOYD calmed himself down a little to be able to speak. He didn’t face Gyro when he answered, but it wasn’t out of unacceptance—his answer was simply an automatic one.

“It’s okay…”

Gyro let go of BOYD for a moment to stare at him gravely in the face.

“No. It’s not okay.”

Gyro couldn’t remember when he’d talked so seriously before. He’d talked sternly—talked angrily—shouted several times… But as far as he knew, nothing compelled him to speak so straightforward and strict and deadpan as this in his life. He wasn’t going to let anyone make excuses for him ever again—not BOYD, and most certainly not himself.

“I said I’ve spent my whole life trying to live down my first invention being evil. But you were never made evil. I made you out to be evil. And now I’m going to spend the rest of my life living down ever having damaged you like that.”

Gyro found himself astonished that he was able to say what he did next, but nonetheless let it be said; BOYD needed to hear exactly what he was deserving of.

“And I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to do right by you. Because after everything that’s happened, I am so proud that a boy like you does right by me.”

In spite of BOYD’s constant shivering and whimpering, he was able to smile comfortingly just for a moment, nestling his head further into Gyro’s scrawny arms.

“I of all people know what it’s like to be new to Duckburg and down on your luck with nothing—with nobody. But I was fortunate. I met Scrooge McDuck and he gave me a place to work, and to make my way up the ladder. He was the only one to give me a second chance—to trust me.”

Gyro sighed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do the same for you—as if I didn’t learn. How you stayed the same as I built you this whole time is beyond me. I’m nothing like you.”

“That’s… That’s not true,” BOYD sniffed, rubbing his eyes again, “If I make you as proud as you say, then some of that had to come from you—where else would I get it from? The only other person around me then was Dr. Akita, and then I spent twenty years asleep in Duckburg. I’m like this because you made me. And if I’m still like this, that part of you has to still be in you too—doesn’t it?”

Gyro couldn’t respond to something so kind. He couldn’t. Gyro didn’t deserve merit like that. Instead, he turned to another question that he’d been thinking of as BOYD stayed settled under his arm—something more technical, but still in reference to the android’s feelings and his sentience.

“When you shiver…” he asked with difficulty, “Is it because you’re cold? And if you overheat, do you feel feverish?”

“I do feel sort of sick when something overheats inside me… At home, it’s treated like I have a cold, which usually helps. But… when I’m cold, I operate at peak efficiency, so that’s never uncomfortable.”

BOYD’s voice was still full of quiet hiccups and characterized by the hurt within him.

“I guess I’m shivering because of how sad I feel. There are a lot of things I’m scared of—and things I’m so glad of, they hurt—but mostly, I just keep thinking back to what Mr. Beaks said. He brings up this little voice in my head that tells me people don’t want me. Like I’m making it hard for them.”

Gyro surprised himself again by stroking the back of BOYD’s head lightly. Nevertheless, he responded with defense and firmness in his tone.

“You should make it hard for people like that to want you. If you’re a waste of energy to someone like Mark Beaks, then good. The more you keep being yourself, the less they’ll stick around to hurt you.”

BOYD looked up at Gyro once more with his wet, shining eyes.

“But you won’t do that if I’m myself around you, right?”

That question pulled Gyro into a riptide of guilt so strong that it almost drove him to cry. But he squeezed his eyes shut, fighting down the urge for BOYD’s sake—this was about him. He made it clear to himself he’d never let his little creation down again when he hugged him in Tokyolk—and now he was going to make it clear to BOYD, say it out loud to his face so there was never any doubt again. Gyro rested the hand he had on BOYD’s head, held him just a tad closer with his arm, and said,

“I’m only saying this once; There is nothing you could do in front of me that wouldn’t make me want you. Ever. You can come to me for whatever you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

Gyro watched as that sentence prompted tear after tear to fall down BOYD’s heated face, nearly every part of his insides nagging uncontrollably at him when the little creature encircled his puny waist with his arms.

“I’m so glad!”

The sobs that BOYD let loose figuratively jabbed the scientist in the gut as he thought of the fact that were it not for his sheer irresponsibility, the poor little thing would never have had to be born into a world that presented such harsh treatment.

Still, BOYD wanted to cry. Didn’t the need to cry come from getting to let go—to feel better—to be alive?

Gyro thought as he instinctively continued to stroke the small head under him with his thumb. If he had brought a life into the world that was going to have bad moments, that meant that the same life was going to have happy moments too, didn’t it? Well—he already had! BOYD might as well have been built as a bluebird. Gyro should be glad BOYD was finally allowed to have this kind of release. It meant he could finally, truly, feel like the definitely real boy he was. The pain of fault and responsibility still wracked Gyro—he figured it always might—but at this point, he was relieved the poor thing he held close in the underwater lab wasn’t going to be mistreated any longer—not if he could stand to help it. ______________________________

BOYD sat in Gyro’s lap, beginning to feel better as he allowed himself to let everything out in the embrace of someone close to him. He could cry as much as he needed around Gyro. And he was going to take that allowance for all it was worth.

Part of his crying now came from the warmth he felt knowing that the old Gyro he thought he’d lost was still in there somewhere—that he hadn’t gone after all—and that even though he’d through no fault of his own gotten it lost, he had brought its return as well. That restored a lot more of BOYD’s self-worth than he fully realized.

BOYD was so grateful—so, so grateful to have that Gyro here again. He didn’t understand why at first it hurt so much to be called an ‘it’ by his creator—he didn’t remember Gyro was his creator at the time—but to think that someone was afraid of him and that someone hated him just for being himself stung so badly. He didn’t cry then—he didn’t know he could. But he cried now, over the cutting things Mark Beaks said, over Gyro’s hand at his back, over anything he could think of that needed crying over—mostly however over the knowledge by now that Gyro didn’t see him as nothing more than a destructive machine—as ‘evil down to his core’ any longer. He could tell that even if Gyro didn’t say it, he loved him; He risked his own life just to hold him in his arms, to save him and others from himself. Now BOYD really did have someone who loved him the way a father would a son. He could hug Gyro if he wanted—as many times as he felt like it—and never be brushed off. That thought brought such relief to him, his processor couldn’t take it all in.

But he didn’t tell Gyro any of this; He noticed all those looks on his face—they gave away just how terrible he felt over not being able to do as much as he wanted for him right away. So he kept any more words from leaving his mouth in order not to burden his guardian with any more guilt. BOYD simply let himself release all the emotions he could which he didn’t know he had before, as if he were wringing himself out—and as such, began soaking up all the comfort he was being given like a dry and thirsty sponge.

BOYD learned some wonderful things that day as he clung so strongly to Dr. Gearloose in that lab—much as it hurt to tremble violently, and bleed out feelings until one’s eyes burned, and let out enough raw noise fit to make one’s throat sore. He learned that being allowed to feel so sad was rewarding, and cleansing. He learned that tears were something he could produce no matter what he felt. And he learned that everyone in the world would make mistakes, no matter what or who they were, but that it was never too late to grow from them.

~ Holy shoot, wow, this is the first serious fic I’ve ever posted on here before.

I really wanted to share it, because it took so long to write—although I didn’t think it would turn out so long… 8k words! It’s the lengthiest thing I’ve ever written.

Anyway, this is a story that is very dear to my heart, not only because I put the most into it out of anything, but because studying Gyro Gearloose as a character and loving his dynamic with BOYD has been one of the most amazing things to think of through the hiatus that came after Astro BOYD.

I always loved BOYD, of course, but once I started seeing all the art and fanfics that others had started doing out of the emotions that came with his and Gyro’s backstory, I got swept up in it too, and wanted desperately to get out all those feelings into one story.

The idea came from the concept of whether or not BOYD can cry. We’ve never really seen him do it before, and it’d probably be hard because he’s normally so happy—but I kept wondering if he, as an android, even could. So it hit me; What if BOYD could cry, but Gyro wasn’t aware of it? What if even BOYD wasn’t aware of it? I kept playing with what would possibly make him cry, because even when Gyro was threatening to shut him down or was calling him ‘it’, BOYD only frowned a little. Suddenly I got the nasty idea of Mark Beaks showing up and telling him he never wants to see him again, and it built from there—I started also thinking that maybe what brings BOYD to cry is just a long enough buildup of pain, and maybe he couldn’t feel as much because Akita’s meddling with him had gotten in the way before.

On a sidenote, Mark Beaks was pretty hard to write at first; I had to make sure his confidence was switched on all the time or he’d come off a little out of character. But much as this is about Gyro & BOYD, Beaks being awful is so deliciously fun to write. I think it’s because he makes you love whoever he’s being mean to even more.

Anyway, after I’d written that part out, I spent a lot more time than I initially thought I would focusing on how all this would make Gyro feel—that is, how much guilt his responsibility would bring on. I’m really desperate to see for myself how they interact in canon from now on, but I always imagine that Gyro’s feelings which are most associated with being a father are of guilt; They make him protective of BOYD, they make him sensitive to BOYD, and they might drive him to treat BOYD—again, be more like a father. Pretty much all Gyro’s niceness comes from wanting a do-over.

I never post my serious writing publicly—mostly because I’m really tentative and shy about showing my literary ‘skills’ and the kinds of raw emotion I spill out in words sometimes—but this fic slowly became something I wanted really badly to share with the DT fandom, as a thing that could both be a way to show my own interpretation and thoughts of Gyro and BOYD, and could maybe even be liked by people as much as it is by me.

I know a good few episodes have aired since Astro BOYD did, and that it’s been a long while since the episode has been talked about, but I’ve only now been brave enough to decide to put this story out there for all to see.

I really hope you enjoyed it.

(Incidentally, I wanted to be sure to post it before Let’s Get Dangerous! airs, because I know this fic would get swallowed up by all the emotions to be had from that episode… ^^; )

#boyd #gyro gearloose #astro boyd #ducktales 2017 #dt17 #mark beaks #fenton crackshell cabrera #doofus drake #oh boy here I go writing again #is my new tag for this predictably #not woy

[sweetestlamb]

Lighting Up Your World Part 2

Episode 18 

Author’s notes: THANK YOU!!!!!  I’ll start there, thank you guys for your overwhelming support on part 1 that I posted yesterday. You guys make me feel like such a great writer, hearing that some of you cried because of something I wrote. incredible. This part is shorter because I was a bit strapped for time and I scrapped  a vast amount the original version I had because I got new ideas and I just didn’t feel like the other version was enough or had the feeling I wanted. Anyway, I hope you guys still enjoy Part 2 aka Episode 18. Tell me your favorite line in the comments, I just think that would be cute hehe lol. *Plays “Lighting Up Your World”  ♫ ♫

He remembers the exact moment that he purchased the ring, its sparkling brilliance from under the glass display, he imagined it sitting on her dainty fingers taking the place of her many other decorative rings. He imagined her face has he placed it on her finger. The store associate had wondered over to him with a knowing smile on his face, as if he knew that look very well, had seen it on the lovesick faces of countless men. After a few minutes of rapid questioning, he walked out with the precious stone in his possession, nerves shooting up and down his veins until he felt like a ball of anxiety.  The ring heavy as lead in his pocket as he staggered home in a daze, in disbelief at what he'd done.

When he had come home to the castle, he could feel the ring burning a hole through the pocket of his jeans. His heart pattering away, erratic in his chest. He avoided eye contact with Mun-yeong as she greeted him at the door, candied smile welcoming home as she eagerly pulling him into the house demanding that he play with her. 

She hadn’t been amused by his suggestion of cards.

Viciously pushing him in the wall and latching onto his neck like a leech. Hours later, he stumbled out of bed panting as he stealthily hid the box in the bottom of his drawer,covering it with mounds of clothes before tiptoeing into his bed alongside his brother dreaming of Mun-yeong in pristine white walking down an aisle that was laden with soft pink rose petals that matched the hue of her lips. He woke up saying "I do." Relieved that his brother was a relatively deep sleeper and hadn't heard his slip of tongue.

The sounds of nature, birds chirping and the wind rustling leaves pulled him from the sandman's hold, as he blinked awake, rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eyes. Immediately he noticed the lack of pressure on his arm, too light without her head cushioned on his bicep as she used him as her personal pillow. He had long stopped trying to get her to use a pillow, she was adamant that his arms were a perfect substitute. A wave of pride blossomed in his chest every time she would stroke a finger across the bulging muscle, humming in approval, openly appreciating his body.

Stumbling to the bathroom he groggily brushes his teeth before hopping in the shower to wash off the sweat that lingered from being pressed against her flesh all night. After changing into his outfit, another t-shirt and jeans with sneakers, he’s a creature of habit. He walks out of the camping can eyes scouting for his missing girlfriend before finding her over the open grill, poking at the meat she's grilling, tongue poking out slightly as she impatiently waits for their tenderness.

What he doesn't expect to see is a little helper on her side, Min-jo, sits in the chair right next to her, eagerly watching the meat as it grills, babbling away at Mun-yeong, who for the most part looks content in the child's presence.

"How do I pick the people I put in my family?" Her innocent voice lifts with curiosity as she peers up at Mun-yeong, eyes shining brightly with young hope and naivete. "What age will I be ready to choose my family?"

With a sigh he watches Mun-yeong bring a slightly underdone piece of beef to her mouth, she's always too impatient to wait for food to reach its necessary temperature for consumption, higher internal heat his ass. The juices from the meat run down the side of her mouth, and he's left feeling like he's watching a lioness in the wild, lethal and it is majestic.

"Didn't I already tell you to stop following me? I don't have any answers for you." She dismissively responds, looking exasperated clearly this isn't her first time hearing and rebuking this question.

He coughs to announce his arrival, watching both their eyes snap up to settle on him, one pair with adoration the other disinterest then glee. 

Min-jo greets him first, "Hi, Mr.Prince!" She waves enthusiastically at him, little hand looking like it could take flight at any moment, he blushes at his new moniker, glaring at Mun-yeong who smirks at the intended response.

"You don't need to call me that, remember I told you my name." He answers sheepishly rubbing his neck.

"But Ms. Witch told me that you and your brother, who is an illustrator saved her from her castle and then you lived happily ever after. I never knew that princes could save witches." She says the last sentence with pure wonder, sighing softly.

"Only if they're pretty princes just can't resist a pretty witch. They follow them wherever they go." Mun-yeong teasingly eyed him, images of young Gang-tae happily trailing after a dispassionate Mun-yeong playing out in both of their memories.

"Well I didn't exactly save her from the castle, I just lived there with her. Together, we made it happier. We became a family and a family has to live together, so they can lean on each other and not do pointless work." Mun-yeong scoffs at his reminder of Sang-tae's story, rolling her eyes affectionately at him.

"That sounds nice. And now you live on a house on wheels. I've never seen one before." She eyes the camping van, as he approaches them taking the last chair, on the left with Mun-yeong in the center.

"How long have you two been here?"

"This brat came here an hour ago, I keep telling her to go away but she won't listen. " She hands his a bowl of food and he notes with barely concealed amusement that a smaller bowl is aggressively placed in Min-jo's grasping hands.

"Thank you Miss Witch!" Min-jo chirps sweetly, scarfing down the food without another word.

Mun-yeong watches her before devouring her own food, her leg brushing against his when she sways into his body heat, a morning chill lingering in the air, as he glances at her and notices that she is wearing a short cotton romper, soft blue with white speckles splashed across the material. Drastic shift from yesterday's funeral best, he smiles at the implications. He wraps an arm around her shoulder drawing her into his heat, her hum of satisfaction rumbling through his body.

Min-jo's chopsticks clink on the bowl as she asks, "If you two share a brother, does that mean you are brother and sister?" His cheeks redden at the inquisitive child.

"No. He's my boyfriend, we share his brother."

"Oh." She easily accepts before adding to his embarrassment, "What do you do with a boyfriend?"

He whips his head to stare at Mun-yeong willing her not to ruin the innocence of a child, she looks back at him with a straight face before answering, "Well a lot of fun things. Sometimes we kiss, he likes that a lot and sometimes we even--"

"Yah!" He pinches her arm, hard.

She slaps him in retaliation, pouting as she soothes her pained skin, "I was going to say hug and hold hands. Why did you pinch me?"

He doesn't believe her for one second, her filter non-existent indiscriminate of the audience.

He glares at her until she resumes eating her food, ignoring the rest of Min-jo’s constant stream of questions. If she kept this up she could be an adept detective. 

Entertaining a child has never been a task he's been troubled with before and he worries his lip as he looks at the little girl bouncing in her chair with unfiltered glee. They’d made the mistake of feeding her and now she had a boundless amount of energy, unable to keep still for even a moment. 

"What should we do now Miss Witch?"

"I'm not here to entertain you. And he's my toy so you can't play with him." She juts her thumb in his direction, he admonishes at her statement arguing that he is not a toy. She nods unconvincingly as if his arguments are futile and she has already made up her mind.

"I'm bored." Min-jo continues, ignoring them. 

"Then leave."

"But I don't want to." She whines. 

"Then make your own fun."

Their bickering reminds him so much of Mun-yeong and Sang-tae tears prickle in his eyes as he decides to check on his brother. It's been two days since his abrupt departure, the longest they've been without each other. He softly announces that he'll her right back before disappearing into the van, their rising voices following him each step of the way.

I'm fine. I'm working and drawing. Stop worrying, have fun with Mun-yeong. Remember a kiss is better than a fight.

The highlights of his conversation with his older brother, who had answered on his third ring, rushing him off the phone because he was quote, "very booked and busy", he really needed to stop Mun-yeong from teaching his hyung her ridiculous slang. Especially phrases like that, that even he couldn't decipher. He had hummed along as if he wasn't completely lost before bidding Sang-tae goodbye.

He took a moment for himself before rejoining them outside, letting his brother's voice wash over him. He knew their relationship had a tinge of codependency but hadn't realized to what extent until their separation. This was good for them. Healthy. He knew that now.

It just hurt a little right now, but that was okay. Pain wasn't permanent.

The sounds of water splashing hit his ear drums as he jumps off the last step of the camping van, as if on autopilot he rushes to the lake, cold chill on his skin as he searches for Mun-yeong.

She stands on the bank of the lake. Safely out of reach, watching as Min-jo flaps her little arms wildly keeping herself afloat. She is helped by the presence of bright pink floaties on her arms, buoying her onto the surface of the wet escape.

"Can you come in the water Miss Witch?"

He watches Mun-yeong gaze at the water, fear bleeding into her irises before she blinks it away. Brief and clipped response, "No."

There is a pregnant pause, before the child continues, "Are witches afraid of water?"

Mun-yeong's eyes are cold as she looks at Min-jo, he watches the interaction enraptured in this achingly honest conversation encrypted in their own language.

"Yes."

He's releases a breath he didn't know he was hiding. Watching Min-jo nod at her response, "That's okay. Everyone is scared of something. I'm scared of being alone. But you said when I'm older I can find a family. Maybe one day you'll find a way to be in the water." She says it matter of fact, like she has no doubt that Mun-yeong will conquer this fear. 

The sun is no longer as high in the sky and the skyline begins to swirl into hues of pink, orange and yellow. Like a mad painter dragged their unwashed paintbrush across the surface. 

"I think it's time we took you back." His voice breaks their bubble as they turn to look at him. He smiles at them both, charmed by this little whirlwind who has bulldozed her way into Mun-yeong's path. Vaguely wondering what happens when a tornado and a hurricane meet? 

They walk back to the diner, Min-jo in the center and the eyes that land on them make him wonder if they look like a family, Min-jo had reached out to grasp their hands but Mun-yeong had slapped it away complaining of her dirty lake hands. The girl had only laughed before happily holding his hand instead before Mun-yeong broke between them, reminding her that he was her toy much to this chagrin.

The same older woman who had prevented Min-jo from following them the previous day, hastily bursts through the door as they draw close enough to be seen, her frantic voice shrill in the air, "Where have you been? Why did you leave without telling me? Are you okay?!" She grabs Min-jo, raptly checking her body for injuries, touching the wet hair on her head before looking at them angrily.

"Who are you? And why are you with this child?"

Min-jo beats them to answer, "This is the pretty witch and her prince." She beams at the woman, who looks taken back at the response.

He bows low in apology before continuing the explanation, "I'm Moon Gang-tae and this is my girlfriend Ko Mun-yeong. She came to find us we wanted to make sure she made it back safely."

She stares at him, scrutinizing his answer but once she sees that the girl is not harmed she sighs before accept his apology, "Okay. Thank you, I'm sorry for any trouble she caused you." She respectfully bows in return.

"You must have been really worried about her."

She freezes at his statement, looking down at Min-jo before averting her eyes, "No. I wasn't. I.....was just bothered thinking about her."

He raises an eyebrow at the defensive deflection.

"That's the same thing." Mun-yeong quips sharply.

The woman's eyes narrow but there is no argument.

They all stand in silence, the wind howls around them, darkness beginning to fall as the sun drifts into the water.

It is time for them to go. 

"Well this is goodbye, be well and stay safe." He bows once more, Mun-yeong waves once before turning away without another word to either. He shoots Min-jo an apologetic smile as her huge wet eyes follow Mun-yeong longingly.

Then she's ripping herself from the tight grip of the woman who cries at the action. She runs straight into Mun-yeong's back. Little feet thundering on the ground and she quickly closes the distance between them. 

"Wait."

Mun-yeong halts her movement, still facing away.

"Can....I?.." She stutters around the words that jumble in her mouth, eyes staring a hole in Mun-yeong's back, she must be impervious to its heat. After a long drawn out pause she bravely finishes her question, "Can I be apart of your family?" The hope laced in her voice batters at his heart, she's just a child who wants to be loved. Crying out for it. Begging for it.

"No."

Her little head bows in defeat, nodding as if she understands, nobody wants her and she doesn't belong anywhere.

She starts to walk back to the woman, all the previous joy and wonder sucked from every cell of her body. Walking as if a marionette on a string, stilted.

"We're leaving. A family needs to stay together, to lean on each other." Mun-yeong's voice causes her to pause mid step, a twinge warmer than it was earlier. The first day of spring after winter's bitter cold. "You should find a family that worries about you and who needs someone to lean on too. A family that will never leave you."

He watches as those huge eyes slowly travel until they land on the lady. She runs back to her, body trembling as she looks at her like she's seeing her for the first time. Eyes now able to see what has always been right in front of her. 

"Can we be a family?"

The woman gasps, turning her head away, eyes glistening. Min-jo reaches out and takes her hand, small palms appearing even tinier in the woman’s hold as she peers up hopeful once more.

He turns away before he can see the conclusion, walking away to fall into step with Mun-yeong, who turns to meet his gaze. He notices the tear streaks on her skin, fondly looking at her, falling ever more in love.

"How did it end?"

He shrugs, taking her hand, "I didn't stay. But I hope it's a happy ending."

"Me too." She squeezes his hand, tightly. 

******************************************************************************************

She wordlessly goes into the camping van announcing that she wants to take a nap. He nods at her, pressing a kiss to her wet cheek before letting her go.

He opens the box of supplies he bought days ago, nerves all but obliterated, he's never been surer of anything in his life. He works diligently but quietly, eyes tracking the door of the camping van to ensure Mun-yeong doesn't suddenly appear before he's done. As he finishes his last touches, he climbs the stairs of the camping van. Eyes softening at the sight of his girlfriend laying on his bed roll, snuggling into his night shirt. He coos at the rare and precious sight, loathing the idea of waking her.

The choice is taken from him when her lashes flutter open and her unfocused eyes land on him, she jumps up nonchalantly hiding the shirt behind her. He pretends not to see it, pointedly looking away from her. Before he beckons her up.

"Come with me."

He offers his hand, sees her in all blue glowing in the sun as she waited for him.

Once again, she takes his hand. It's just as sweet as the first time. His heart is giddy with love.

He contemplates asking her to close her eyes but ultimately decided against it, he wants her to see and relish every moment.

Her small gasp as he pushes the door open makes his heart tremble and do a back-flip, bouncing all around the cavities of his chest. She looks around astonished at the scene, the faint twinkling of the fairy lights that adorn the camping van, blinking rhythmically, like stars that fell from the sky, the long winding path of rose petals that lead to a blanket that is topped with a bountiful basket and a bucket with wine.

"Wow."

She turns to look at him, eyes glossy and shining under the luminescence of the fairy lights. "What is this?"

He doesn't answer her question, actions have always spoken louder than words for him. He escorts her down the path of petals, softly crunching under their feet. Until they reach the blanket and he helps her sit before lowering himself next to her.

He opens the basket, removing all the food he purchased and hid away, small sandwiches and fresh fruits. He plucks a strawberry out before pressing it to her lips, "Open up." The dark desire that rolls through her eyes makes his body flush in return. She obeys silently, wrapping her lips around the soft flesh of the berry, biting down, relishing at the flavor before swallowing. She feeds him a slice of honey dew in return, fingers dragging across his lips bewitchingly.

They consume the rest of the food in silence, feeding themselves and each other in equal turns. Before he pours them both a bottle of the cheap wine he was able to purchase in a liquor store in the town. Her eyes never leave his face as she drinks the wine, captivated by his every move.

"Are you full?" He whispers not wanting to interrupt the calm that has settled like a warm blanket over them.

"Yes, I'm no longer hungry." Intentional pause, as her eyes lock on his lips. "For food."

Adjusting himself in his pants he ignores her tempting offer, for now. The main event is still around the corner and he needs all his wits for that.

Taking her hand in his large palms, he rubs his thumb along the soft skin, gazing into her eyes with his own laid open, wanting her to see everything he feels.

"Mun-yeong, I love you. I love who I am with you, who I've become with you, I want to be with you always."

She blinks at his words, words escape her as she stares at him. He doesn't give her a chance to flounder much more, pulling out what he had hidden in his pocket and placing it in her hand.

The button eyes of the nightmare doll, glow under the moonlight and she looks down at the thing she once dismissed as "ugly crap", now a prized possession.

"Mang-tae?..."

"I'm still a coward a little, he's going to help me tell you a message." He guides her eyes to the scroll sticking from the pouch, all too similar to her concealed message to him.

She slowly pulls the paper from the sack, hands trembling as she unfurls it and reads the message written. She's a fast reader, incredibly so, he knows that and the message is fairly short yet she stares at it for what feels like hours, maybe even years, time is relative in the moment.

She reads the message again and again and again and again and again. 

Before she finally puts it down. Then the tears come, easily, flowing like a river, soaking the neck of her romper and she lets them fall, doesn't interrupt their journey, allows herself this brief moment of vulnerability.

She's never looked more beautiful in his eyes.

He tells her so, "You look so beautiful. I want to see this face until I die."

Without a word she places Mang-tae tenderly on the blanket, before crawling into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck and she answers his question with a kiss. Their lips crash together with enough force to knock him backwards, dragging her with him as they tumble on the blanket.

Her tongue prods at his mouth and he eagerly allows her entrance, moaning at the sweet flavor of strawberry that floods his taste buds, sucking her tongue into his mouth to get more. His hands rub at the exposed skin of her back, traveling down to squeeze her soft lush ass, bringing their pelvis in contact. She grinds down sensually on his erection, moaning at the hot sensation. He pulls the tie holding her romper together, pulling back from the kiss to strip her bare. She resembles a wood nymph naked underneath the smattering of stars in the inky sky, the forest rustles around them.

While he's lost in the glory of her body, she undresses him, pulling his shirt over his head and pressing hot open kisses against his stomach, before unbuttoning his pants and pulling them own with his boxers in one firm tug. Then she hungrily gazes at his body, hands massaging his thighs before she crawls back into his arms, their bodies slotting together like puzzle pieces.

Their tongues meet in a languid battle, bodies rolling against each other like waves, uncontrollably. He presses a curious finger at the folds hidden between her thighs and groans at the enticing wetness that surrounds the digit. Coating in her sweet juices. She shakes her head above him, lifting up to dislodge his finger. He looks at her in question.

"I'm too close. I can't take foreplay. Make love to me." She pleads, demands, begs. All of them, at once.

She steals his breath, just like she did his heart and his control. He wonders what he will have left after her? What will still be his when she takes it all? He would give anything to her.

He is incapable of denying her so with a gentle grip of her waist he moves her aligning their bodies before his cock brushes against her most intimate spot, with a fluid tilt of his hip he slides into her tight pussy, it feels like coming home.

He exalts at the sensation, letting it roll over him, basking in her constrictions around him as she wiggles in his arms before pulling his ear lobe into her wet mouth, "Please."

He thrusts into her, powerful but steady, drawing her close and forcing her to meet him. She begins to ride him, feet planted beside his hips as she rams herself down into his hard cock, the view is unbelievable her face twisted in euphoria under a million dazzling stars, he takes a snapshot in his mind.

Before she knocks all thoughts out of his head, plunge down harder and faster onto him, he grabs her waist desperately, needing to slow her down. But she fights his grip, pushing his hands beside his head and he could easily take control but as he watches her fall apart he realizes she needs this. Desperately. Everything tonight has been out of her control, she needed to gain some of it back. Needed to find her footing as he effortlessly swept her off her feet. 

He lets her hold his hands down, giving no resistant, watching her fuck herself on him, entranced by the indecent sight of his dick disappearing in and reappearing out of her. In. Out. In. Out. InOut. InOut. She sets a punishing pace despite asking him to make love to her but he muses that their version of love hasn't always been gentle or tranquil, sometimes it was volatile even explosive so for them this is making love. It similar to everything else in their lives has layers, that they are continually peeling back to expose a new coat. 

She starts to moan loudly, little ahs so sweet in the wind, twisting and undulating until every downward thrust bumps against her clit, she keens as she pants out his name, "Moon Gang-tae, Moon Gang-tae!"

He holds on for the ride, hips slamming violently into hers as she tightens around him, walls crushing him until finally she shakes in his arms, her body twitching almost out of his hold and he swiftly snatches her back, drilling into the tight wall of her pussy until he feels his pinnacle nearing, the blood in his head surges and he feel his length swell and explode as he tumbles over the edge, driving every last drop of him inside her until she's stuffed full.

She collapses onto him, knocking the wind from his lung. But he takes her weight, wrapping her in his arms.

"Yes." She breaths into his ears.

Sliding out of the tight glove of her pussy he rolls to the side, catching Mang-tae once more, her brows farrow again.

"You didn't let me finish." He gently chides. Taking her hand and bringing it the the pouch on the doll's back once more, he sees the shock that washes over her features, eyes large in wonder as she pulls out the object hidden inside.

A sparkling gold ring, a modest princess cut diamond sits proudly on top, as beautiful as its new owner.

"Are you serious?" Her voice trembles, the tears coming again.

"Yes. But right now it's just a promise ring, a promise that one day I'll be a man who's worthy of being your husband. I wanted to give it to you now so you know that I'm yours and I want you to be mine in very sense of the word. What do you say?"

Her face crinkles into a smile, "You promised not to make me cry again. You already broke that promise tonight. You better not break this one."

He chuckles, "Those are happy tears that doesn't count. And you didn't answer my question." He needs to hear her answer.

She looks at him from under her lashes, naked and beautiful under the inky black night sky, lips blessing him with her response, "Sure. Why not?"

He smiles at the nonchalant answer as she weeps, before taking the ring from her hand, gently pressing the ring onto her finger, it looks like it belongs, perfect fit.

She tackles him onto the blanket, showering his face with kisses as he laughs loudly, freely. Living out his wildest dream with girl that he liked who become the woman that he loves. 

The message on the scroll crushed between their weight. But the words are unaffected.

Marry me, someday?

They were in no rush they had a lifetime ahead of them. 

Maybe even another after that, if they were reincarnated and destiny brought them together again. 

*******************************************************************************************

She drives them to their new location, he doesn't comment on her driving past the diner or looking through the glass to see Min-jo happily talking to the woman, their hands wrapped around each other as she pulls the lady behind her, excitedly jabbering. Neither of them say anything but she smiles the whole drive after, humming along to BLACKPINK on the radio. 

♫ ♫ Dududududu  ♫ ♫

He still doesn't comment when they end up at another site with a lake and mountains in the background.

After using the bathroom when he comes out of her van he finds her standing on the bank of the river. Feet barely grazing the water.

Wrapped around her arms are the bright pink floaties he saw on Min-jo's arms.

His breath hitches as she looks back at him, defiant smile on her face. Her ring shining from its permanent spot on her finger. 

She takes a step towards the water.

#its okay to not be okay fic #its okay to not be okay #psycho but it's okay #moon gang tae #ko mun yeong #emotional fic #I really felt things writing this #hope you enjoy part 2 #episode 18 #tell me your favorite line

[unholyplumpprincess]

Claudette Sandwich

Commission for someone who would like to be left anonymous. The basic idea was Huntress and the Plague making a Claudette sandwich and having a sorta silent war over her. And oh, don’t we all wish to be adored by two massive lady killers with kissable faces?

Summary:  In which the Entity is tired of its killers and survivors not taking its games seriously and gives them a break. A break in which many survivors use to go fuck their respective lovers. Claudette takes this time to spend with her two favorite women.

Reblogs > Likes. Please Reblogs if you hit Like! :D

!!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked on sight!!!

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Relationship: Claudette/Huntress and Claudette/Plague

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Both Claudette and Huntress are trans women with lingo being cock/dick, Claudette has autism and there are notes of it, Mentions of taking E and the side effects that come with it, possessiveness, outside sex, but for the most part p tame! No ‘out there’ kinks here!

Words: 4.2k

___________________

Each trial was made just right, just so, just enough to be a challenge and to provide the Entity with what it wanted.  Bloodshed , fear, screams, anything to feed its sadistic desires.  

When it came down to it, the survivors were getting better at surviving, and the killers were losing their patience. The void and stretch between the two separate teams of pawns in the Entity’s  never-ending  game were starting to get tired. Some survivors would mock its killers, and the killers would equally taunt back- neither hitting the other.  

Well, the Entity supposed a game was only fun with variety and breaks, were they not? All of their pawns had been mortals at some point with...feelings- the spidery creature could gag at the very thought. Feelings.  

How unfortunate.  

~Rest under the cut~

It’s not as if it does not notice how its killers play the game either. As long as they bring a necessary amount of sacrifices and play the game in a way involving blood and screams, the Entity is normally pleased. No, recently, its killers have gotten...attached to certain survivors. Not in the fun way of obsessions like The Shape, The Nightmare, or the Demogorgon had, where their paired survivors were in their blood to hunt down first.  

No, examples being like how The Trapper would never miss anyone, and yet Meg Thomas always just barely escaped his clutches. And if she WAS in his clutches,  somehow,  she’d always escape. How curious, the Entity had thought, until it had watched closer as she taunted the big beast and went so far as to pull up her top and flash him and leave its most skilled predator at a loss of what to do.  

No. No, no, no, these games would need a break just like any other game.  

So, what’s an all-seeing Entity to do?   

It sneaks into the survivors’ dreams to let them know what the new rules are. It requests a council from its very own group of killers to explain the circumstances without letting them know who it had seen becoming ‘merciful’ to who.  However  its killers played their game and got their own satisfaction was their own interests.  

The situation was simple. Survivors and killers would be allowed to mingle for two weeks, and then the games would begin again.  

And oh, how did the Entity love the thought of the inevitably delicious taste of agony and betrayal when they would become friendly, only to realize in the upcoming matches they would be downed by the very hand they held. Whether out of duty, or the thrill of the kill.  

What it can feel currently, however, is the joy coming off specific survivors in their dreams when it alerts them to the changes.  

Sweet little Claudette had always been a favorite of the Entity’s. She had come into this world meek and kind, and still was ever so kind, even when she bared her teeth and held her ground against killers. How kind, she was, standing in the way of a hit to rescue her fellow survivors. Or take the last few daring seconds to finish a generator, just to buy her team some time. Always there to be the optimistic sunshine in the time of fog and gloom.   

So kind, and so idiotic, if you asked the Entity.  

Yet, it seems her kind, sweet nature had gathered the attention of two of its killers.  

The Huntress was a woman that the Entity adored for her simplicity. Her own agony in inability to carry child had been delicious all on her own, then the desire, the hunger to kill anyone who stood in her way. And yet, she found some sort of requiem in Claudette. Somewhere where her mortality and morals lie. Claudette brought something out in her that was protective and...human.  

Claudette liked to explain various herbs and insects to Anna, holding a book she had gotten in reward for escaping one day. She holds it up high for the taller woman who points at the pictures and then to her mouth to ask if they are edible. In small ways they bond in the small moments when they are not running away or at each other. In these small ways, they grow to adore each other.  

And a newer killer, yet still old enough to not be considered a new addition; The Plague. Oh, how her agony was worn on her cheek for all to see. The acts of killing were acts of devotion in her eyes- the Entity her new god to appease and to serve. She had no Disciples to guide, no need for her selflessness from the past. She devoted herself into each kill and looked to the Entity like a god from her realm and served it as such.  

Yet with Claudette, the kind survivor had held her hands as if they had not been scarred. Kissing each fingertip with murmured words of sweetness that had left Adiris speechless and shy. A new look for her, since the devotion became more interesting whispers as she was on her knees. Words that others may not know the tongue of, but to a god of many voices, the Entity could make out the...love.  

It could gag.  

But truly, was the Entity not the god of this realm? In the end, it didn’t matter who thought what, as long as they all played the game and gave the Entity what it always wanted. Who was it to matter if a god played a role here?  

As always, it would keep playing its game. For now, the Entity lets its presence stop overwhelming the surrounding area of the survivor’s camp. Paths lead into the forest all around, marked with wooden signs stating the area it would lead as well as a dirt or cobblestone path leading in that direction.  

There is no sun to be provided, the overhead still dark and clouded with a full moon serving for most of the light. Fireflies blossom in surrounding areas, orange rather than their  normal  yellow glow.  

At first, most survivors are wary. Claudette can’t blame Nancy and Steve for not being too thrilled to move from their cabin, nor Laurie or Quentin for avoiding the areas marked with familiar realms that make their skin crawl. She could almost laugh at the eagerness from Nea and Jake, however, both eagerly talking of the Wraith as if he were some shared boyfriend that they were  gossiping  about.  

It almost felt normal.  

Almost.  

The first day, Claudette finds herself wandering into the woods through a split path. The Red Forest splitting into a grounded area, wet, muddy area with a wooden path leading there. Small flowers sprout from the wooden planks beneath her feet, the pleasant aroma being revealed of the forest that never seemed to stop sprinkling small amounts of rain. The heavy treetops overhead almost acted like their very own light, filtering deep blues through the area.  

Anna is a territorial  woman;  It is no surprise for her to find Claudette before the survivor can find her. There’s a quietness that edges between them, a  good few feet of distance  as Claudette waits patiently where she’s at, shuffling her feet a bit.  

Claudette was not a person who spoke very many words. She found it hard to get it out, preferring to delve into books and be in her own little world. Bugs, botany, rocks-  those  she could talk about for hours, hands fidgeting as she could show and tell without Anna being upset. Anna thought it was interesting how she could go from not saying a word to suddenly exploding over her interests. It was cute.  

So, Claudette does not speak, merely letting her shoulders fall from their tight position and taking a step forward just as Anna’s arms outstretch and bring her into her arms. Their height difference makes Claudette nestle against her breast, smiling in a way that makes the killer’s heart stutter and a warm smile to find her scarred lips.  

Anna makes love to her that day, in her very own home. Strong body framing Claudette who had held her arms around her neck and pulled her closer with the softest of sounds from her throat.  There are  soft murmurs from Anna that Claudette does not understand. She kisses over her neck, brushing Claudette’s curls from her sweaty, warmed face and watching her get overwhelmed with each and every thrust into her smaller frame.  

Claudette can’t meet her eyes- eye contact was a big no. Nor did she seem to enjoy the stimulus of kissing when Anna was inside her.  So,  they compromise. With Anna’s forehead to hers, both sets of eyes closed, and Claudette’s hands pawing at her back or one clutching the back of her head to draw her closer.  

It made them feel more alive than either had been in what felt like ages.  

--  

The following day, after a day well spent with Anna and explaining to her quietly that Claudette would be seeing Adiris tomorrow, Claudette makes her way towards the path of the Red Forest again, the next pathway seeming to be made of fallen stones set firmly into the ground. It led a path to an open forested area as well, but instead of a warmed cabin, there was a temple. Broken down from age and time, moss growing along its walls and  left-over religious memorabilia scattered.  

Adiris is a calm and quiet woman. Her way of caring and speaking was soft spoken and gentle, English heavily accented with each word and one of the languages she struggled with. That was fine by Claudette, who wasn’t very verbal herself- whether that was from lack of wanting to speak or the killer stutter she got on single syllables was up to anyone.  

Though it did amuse her on end how Adiris seemed so stoic, yet the simplest hand on her cheek or a hand on her own would make the firmer flesh of her face flush red. Stoic, yet so easy to fluster.  

Adiris was a beauty that was different than the woman who ran in a rabbit mask. She was slightly taller than The Huntress, but certainly not even comparing in physique. Her  physique  was  leaner and willowy  with a soft, curving flare out of her hips. It made her entire sense of self seem like a walking goddess. Her face she preferred to hide with her headdresses- kissing was always a nervousness of her own.  

Claudette supposes that’s who she was before all this- or a loud devotee. But, now, she takes to sitting with Adiris and tracing the scarring on the backs of her hands. Mummified was a good word for how her skin was, almost scabbed up and burned. Yet, Claudette touches her just as she would anyone else with utmost care.  

Now, Adiris finds herself sitting with her knees off to the side, propping her side up on a rock as well with her arm. She lets Claudette sit in front of her, the girl on her knees as well and finding her palm resting on Adiris’ warmed cheek. There are no words to share, but Claudette still lets her eyes flicker to Adiris’ to get the message across.  

The first kiss is gentle. Adiris feels herself squirm to sit up fully on her knees to match, height overtaking as her shaking fingers gingerly cup Claudette’s cheeks warmly. The softness of her lips is supple against Adiris’ scarred ones. They can only peck, the headdress’ sharp edges coming down into two slots over her lips, but they still find ways to touch. With Claudette’s cheek against her own, feeling the warmth of her skin, able to inhale the earthy scent of her- it's almost too much for Adiris.  

In a moment where both parties both desire the other and both are too shy to proceed, one has to make the next move. It’s not as if Adiris’ religion had been surrounded by purity- no, polytheist was the ideology around it with multiple gods. It was not her religion that stopped her, but her own fears. She’d seen her followers naked, when they bathed in the communal rivers- but seeing someone INTIMIATELY naked would be new. Let alone...herself being bare before another.  

“Please,” Claudette murmurs so quiet against Adiris’ cheek she hardly hears it. There’s a moment’s hesitation, the shaky breath exhaling from Claudette as her warm hands brush down Adiris’ shoulders just as Adiris’ own arms slide around her neck to hold her closer. “Let me to-touch- touch you?”  

It must be hard for her to ask, a woman of few words, and even  then,  it’s a forward question. But, Adiris would expect nothing less of someone more interested in sciences. Her words fail her, so she nods, lying herself back on the grass floor as if she were to be her lover’s offering underneath the full moon. The forest’s winds shaking the treetops gently and creating a soft  ambiance  that would leave a blushing maiden breathless.   

If this were perhaps the mortal realm, perhaps Adiris would feel the need to be more modest.  

Claudette is almost methodical in her touching. She strokes over the flesh of her thighs, sitting between Adiris’ legs and warming her up. It must look ridiculous for such a smaller woman to kneel between her thighs, but Adiris can’t help the breath that leaves her when Claudette’s hands climb. Skirting over the swell of her hips, up her slender frame and to her breasts. Her clothing is loose, easy to push down her shoulders with curious fingers dipping into the fabric of her tunic and gently pulling it down.  

Her breasts are smaller and not as perky as someone with a bra might have had- as bras were way after her time. But Claudette doesn’t mind, even when one has scarring edging the outskirts.   

Adiris’ nipples are a dusty color, perked and easy to brush her thumbs over. Claudette should have expected her sensitivity, but the gasp makes her freeze, only spurred on when she looks up and sees Adris has raised a hand to cover her mouth and her burning face.  

More brazen at the situation, Claudette allows herself to lie overtop her, sealing her lips over a bud and suckling. The reaction is instant, slender hips coming up into her own and making Claudette hum softly in appreciation. Adiris’ other hand comes to rest on Claudette’s hair, pressing gently as if to urge her to continue.  

When Claudette switches and raises her hand to squeeze at the now neglected breast, Adris lets out such a soft sound, her hips coming up again as if she doesn’t notice her own body doing it. Her hips naturally roll and press up in small humps, pressing herself to the front of Claudette’s jeans with desperate little ‘nnhhh’s  leaving her throat.  

It was difficult for Claudette to get hard so quickly- in the mortal realm she had been on E since she was a teenager. The side effects she had discovered were that it was harder for her to get hard, that her breasts developed to about a B cup, her cock had become smaller from what it had been, and producing cum had once been something she could no longer do. Yet, in this realm, she could produce cum. An odd side effect, but she assumed that the Entity somehow knew of aspects of their survivors and gave them what it assumed was correct or wanted.  

Regardless of her own unsexual thoughts of the moment, she finds herself filling out and pressing against her zipper. Having been focused longer than she thought she had been when she can make out how Adiris whines now, hips firmly trying to hump up into Claudette without yet noticing.  

When Claudette releases her breasts, there’s protests and needy hands grabbing at her, but she shushes softly. Letting her hands fall to Adiris’ waist and methodically pulling her robes up and to the side. No underwear either, she finds quickly. She finds that Adiris has scarring on her upper thighs, her cunt covered with thick hair and the slit parted open like a blossoming flower. Allowing Claudette to see how wet and flushed she was, her flesh still  supple  here with her clit engorged and wetness sticking to Claudette’s fingers when she experimentally brushes her slit with two fingers.  

The sharp reaction of Adiris humping upwards and letting out an echoing ‘ah!’ will fill Claudette’s dreams. She offers a smile of comfort when Adris flushes, covering her face with her arm, but Claudette doesn’t stop her.  

Scientific research on bodies that were different than her own had been conducted in the case of something like this happening. With Anna, it was easier since their bodies were much alike. With Adiri , she had, well, to put it bluntly- a pussy. One that Claudette was now inspecting, pushing her lower lips apart and then sandwiching her clit between two fingers. Dipping her fingers down to feel at her hole and prod just a bit and then circling back up.  

Through methodical testing she finds quickly what Adiris likes. Ending up with two fingers inside her, stretching her out with her own mouth back on Adiris’ chest. Suckling and letting her teeth scrape across the hardened, abused bud in her mouth.  

When Adiris cums, the sound she makes is quiet and overwhelmed. This sound like ‘ nnnhAH -’ leaving her and making her hand smash over her mouth. Her hips convulse, humping up into Claudette’s hand as she moves her fingers inside of her, scissoring and experimenting with pressing different areas.  

When Claudette can find it in her, she finds herself sitting up and almost frantically pulling off her boots so she can pull off her jeans. She stays in her shirt and flannel, but only once her pants and panties are off  does  she  pause , looking down at Adiris with flushed cheeks. “May I? I-I-I mean- can--” Claudette’s gesturing again, hands moving with her words despite one being covered with cum, fingers and palm shiny with slick.  

Adiris’ eye that has yet to be sealed over with scar tissue narrows in amusement. A little braver, she lifts her hips up in a show that she wants her.  

Claudette bites her lip at the gesture, carefully scooting up to be aligned with her. Her cock was about four or five inches now, still a good girth around with foreskin that covered a small portion of the flushed head. When she strokes, she pulls the skin back to reveal the flushed, shiny head, sliding it through Adiris’ lower lips and making both women shudder.  

It wasn’t often Claudette wanted to penetrate someone else. But when she’s fully sunken in and lying on top of Adiris and clinging to her? She can’t imagine it any other way. But, she’s overwhelmed, tucking her face into Adiris’ neck and shuddering as she tries to adjust to the heat around her.  

That’s when Adiris makes a sound, not of pleasure nor pain, but of surprise. A gentle embarrassed sound and Claudette figures out why when a calloused hand brushes her hip, sliding down over her ass and making her cheeks burn.  

“Anna-” She breathes out, turning her head to peek back and up at the Huntress. Anna stands comfortably behind her, having snuck up. Her mask remains on her face, the veil behind her head offering clarity to see the way her head tilts at her name, scarred lips forming a smirk.  

“Shhh,” Is the reply she gets back. Claudette’s face burns when she realizes what’s happening once Adiris’ arms go around her neck possessively and holding her tighter. Just at the same moment Anna gets on her knees behind Claudette, cupping her ass and sliding slicked fingers between the swell to tease at her hole.  

Overwhelmed enough already, Claudette takes to burying her face in Adiris’ neck with a choked noise. One finger  slides  inside of her and her entire body jerks. She feels almost like a prize, Adiris now boldened by the competition lets her hands slide down Claudette’s body to grab her ass, pulling gently to bare her to the killer behind her.  

“God-” Claudette sobs out, hips jerking forward despite having no space to move.  

When two calloused fingers sink into her, Claudette swears she’s going to die. She squirms atop Adiris, who has now taken to stroking up her back, her nails lightly scraping across the soft flesh Claudette had to offer.  

After a few moments there’s a shift behind her, her ass thoroughly stretched and her head dizzy with pleasure- Claudette is sure she’s drooled into Adiris’ shoulder by now. There’s shuffling and then Anna’s much bigger body is crowding her into the woman underneath her, making Claudette effectively sandwiched between the two women. Anna takes her cock, lubed up and a good sizeable amount.  

A speculation Claudette had was that Anna was unable to take E or any supplements in life, so the Entity rewarded her with however she wanted. Perhaps not the best time to ponder when she’s holding her breath now as Anna sinks into her with a melodic groan behind her.  

When Adiris presses her cheek to Claudette’s, her voice is gentle as she whispers, “Breathe.” A simple word that sends shivers down Claudette’s spine as she quickly  lets  go of the breath she was holding. A shuddering, shaking one escapes her, nosing at Adiris’ neck with a broken sob escaping her.  

Too much, too much-  

Then Anna starts moving, rocking her with a possessive grip to Claudette’s hips to angle her better. Forcing her to start rocking a bit into  Adiris  as well and effectively making her head spin. Claudette’s body quakes, soft whines leaving her body as she clings onto the woman underneath her for dear life.  

The war she does not feel over her shoulder is, however, brewing. Adiris has her chin tucked on Claudette’s shoulder, making her soft noises as she’s rocked into, but her one good eye trains up at Anna. Anna, who is smirking cockily and her eyes narrowed behind her mask, going so far as to hum in pleasure as she slams her hips hard into Claudette to make her cry out.  

They would share, oh, they could share, but both women were trying to be the best. To be the one making Claudette whine like that.  

Adiris  focuses on holding Claudette like a lover, arms wound around her, legs spread and turning her head as much as she can with her headdress to kiss adoringly at her neck with encouraging sounds to follow.  

Anna focuses on yanking and moving Claudette like a doll, fucking into her hard enough that her body bounces with the effort. Claudette’s body responds willingly to the motions, trying to keep up and fuck into Adiris at the same time. You really can’t blame her when she’s suddenly sobbing out and sinking her nails into the dirt beneath her when she cums. Hips stuttering and filling up Adiris, her internal walls fluttering around Anna until all three women are gasping.  

Normally, Claudette just needs the one and she’s exhausted, but she quickly finds that the killers she’s sandwiched between aren’t going to let just a ‘one and done’ be the end of this.  

She vaguely hears a snarl beneath her, followed by a taunting little hum behind her. She’s vaguely aware of it with Anna still fucking into her like a rabbit, hips slamming home and cock practically never leaving Claudette’s body. It makes her shake, whimper, beg for no more, that she can’t take it, it’s  too much -  

“One more,” Anna manages to get out with a low groan, nails sunk into Claudette’s hips. “One more.” She repeats, a small chant under her breath that Claudette nearly sobs with. But, she nods, frantically into Adiris’ shoulder and mumbling it back helplessly.  

Adiris is the second to cum with a cry. She’s never too loud, soft noises, but she makes a  high-pitched  sound akin to a squeak into Claudette’s neck. Her nails press into Claudette’s flesh, digging in uncomfortably but the way she squeezes around her? Claudette can’t find it in her to complain.  

When Anna cums, Claudette manages a dry orgasm not seconds after. Body trembling, overstimulated, eyes glassy with tears and her head foggy. She’s shaking by the time Anna pulls out, calloused hands  appreciatively  spreading her ass to watch her cum undoubtedly spill down onto the grass.  

There’s a pull and she’s vaguely aware of being pulled into Anna’s embrace and away from Adiris. Her cock feels cold out in the air, wet and no longer warmed inside of the killer. She makes a sound in her throat akin to a complaint, but quiets down when she’s settled across Anna’s lap with her heavy arm across her lap. It grounds her, the weight of it, and even more so when Adiris comes crawling over and rests their foreheads together. Nothing more.  

Claudette smiles her tired, silent thanks. She near falls asleep in this realm, if it weren’t for the two women soon seeming to argue over who could hold her.  

Ah, the Red Forest, truly a beautiful place.  

#Claudette x Huntress #Claudette x Plague #Claudette Morel #The Plague #The Huntress #Dbd #Dead by daylight #dick by daylight #nsft #lemon #commissions #princess writing #Trans Huntress #Trans Plague #omg so many tags