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fandomwritingbit · 1 year

Note

Okay last one- for now

Michael x female reader hate smut-

Michael is a straight up bully to reader, they always argue and never get along, but one night readers car breaks down confidently in front of his home- doesnt help that its raining so she is getting soaked, she tries calling her roommate but because its night they dont pick up.

Michael comes out to see whats going on and he spot her, he rolls his eyes and makes her get inside instead of staying in the cold, grumbling that he will fix it in the morning and she can sleep in his room, he even lets her have some of his clothes- but he makes her sleep on the floor, she refuses to saying its cold and after a bit of arguing he grabs her and kisses her quiet, telling her he knows a way to keep her warm if she wants

Reader consents and the rest is up to you 👀

Okay, so I’ve never written for Michael before... but I had way too much fun with this. I wrote it kind of like a comedy with smut because I get perverse enjoyment out of bullying Michael lmao. Hope it’s to your liking!

Warnings: smut nsfw, vaginal sex, creampie god I hate that word swearing, bad car knowledge, reader and Mike are both kinda arseholes, Will cameo, a joke about a dead parent, yes ik it sounds bad, but give it a chance cos that’s funny af irl.

Driving home from the shop, you double flick the windscreen wipers as the hammering rain only gets worse. You’re already wet from the 10 seconds you spent outside, your jeans clinging uncomfortably to your legs and dampening the seat underneath you.

Mumbling a ‘for fuck’s sake’, you turn down another residential road, still over two miles from your house, the quick nip out for fags having taken up way too much of your night.

Its then that the worst sound possible could be heard. Your engine packing in, squealing like a stuck pig in a fence, followed by a juddering thud as you’re mercifully able to steer it up the curb outside a house, before it completely dies on you. To be honest, you’d know that this shit-raft hadn’t had long left but really, tonight? Right now? So far from home? After you’d just spent a fucking fortune fuelling up? Bleeding typical.

You get out of the car, no umbrella or jacket to speak of and are wet to the bone before you can even get to the bonnet and peer inside. Seeing smoke depressingly coming from some part of the vehicle you couldn’t name.

“What the Hell are you doing here?” Someone behind you says, emphasising the ‘you’ with disgust. Of course you turn, ready to give someone the mouthful of profanity you were saving for this limp cock of a car. You recognise the tallish, messy haired lad immediately and curse in annoyance. Fucking great: it’s Michael Afton.

You found him such a silly ponce. And he you, a nasty prick. Having known each other since college and now finding yourself studying at the same Uni, your animosity towards each other having grown and matured into a smouldering hatred that caused arguments anytime you were in a room together. Only yesterday morning you’d given him a mouthful for how he’d acted towards you in a Costas. And so, seeing him now, you almost laughed at how this night probably couldn’t get any worse.

“You’re really here to give me shit now?” You sigh, trying to keep a level head as he probably had a better chance of fixing this car than you. “My car’s dead as a dodo.”

“That...” He smiles at you meanly, enjoying the sight of you soaked through and looking damn right miserable. “...is a shame.” He turns to walk up a drive into a house you assumed was his, grinning at your anguish.

Giving him the wanker gesture behind his back, you pull out your phone, registering the sound of a front door closing, whilst your shaky, wet hands tried to dial your roommate. Eventually you succeed, but it goes straight to voicemail, their phone clearly dead or off. Leaving you stranded as your parents were out of town and no one else was local, it being summer hols and you being home from Uni. You put your hand on your head, desperately trying to find a solution to your freezing cold predicament.

From inside his house, Michael peeked through his curtains surprised to see you still stood outside in the rain. Surely, you’d have the common sense to get back in your car or something. But no. He watched you looking like a stray cat for a few minutes before his decency took over and he goes to the door to see if you’re alright.

“You standing there all night, y/n?”

You laugh sharply, tears of frustration threatening to spill. “Just fucking might.”

“You wanna come in while you wait for someone?” He says, sighing at having to spend time in the same building as you, but still feeling a shred of pity.

“I ain’t got anyone to come get me.” You say, hands rising to an irritated shrug.

“Still wanna come in for a bit?”

And although you’d usually rather stick a spork in your eye than sit around with Michael Afton, it beat standing here, or sitting in your car. But only narrowly.

He leads you through his front door, showing you a bathroom and after you heavily hint, giving you some dry clothes to wear whilst your own dried on a radiator. You thank him reluctantly, going inside said toilet to put on the joggers and hoodie he’d given you. Scowling to yourself in the mirror as you can smell him on the clothes.

You come out after promising yourself to not let him wind you round the bend. Finding your way to a kitchen, where stood leant against a counter, after nicely, he’d boiled a kettle for you.

He hadn’t expected the movement in his trousers at seeing you in his clothes, it felt intimate and kind of sexy. And for a moment he just saw you as a good-looking lass, not the witch that had been haunting him for 4 years.

“Thanks for the clothes and the hot drink- I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, you should. I was tempted not to invite you in.” You smile sarcastically at him, walking over to the rack of mugs you’d spotted on the counter, grabbing some kind of fancy-arse tea bag.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do. My parents are out of town.” You briefly explain to him, using the mug to warm you aching hands. To which he stood silently, watching your arse in his trousers as you did so.

“If you promise to keep your mouth shut, you can stay here.” He offers unenthusiastically.

“Why would I want to do that, Mikey?” You laugh.

“Feel free to go back out-fucking-side.” He gestures with his hand in the rough direction of the door, a very familiar sneer on his face.

And what else could you do? Sleep in your car outside in a neighbourhood you didn’t know that well? So you agree, not hiding the look of despair the prospect gave you. Which only doubled when he told you his dad would be coming home so you’d have to sleep in his room. On the floor. Like a dog.

He threw a couple of pillows on his carpet, then a paper-thin blanket, looking at you with a stupid smug expression on his stupid smug stupid fucking face.

After about 10 minutes of shivering on his floor, your back already throbbing from the lack of mattress, you grow tired of hearing the shit tik toks he was watching.

“I can’t sleep here, this is ridiculous.” You sit up, making him jump a little at the abruptness. “What did you just shit yourself for? Forget I’m here?” You say somewhat meanly, a snicker accompanying it, standing up and cracking your neck.

“Shut up. Where are you gonna go like?” His voice takes on a cutting mocking tone, “Get in here with me?”

You walk over to him, face a picture of annoyance. “That what you want Mike? Me to get in fucking bed with you?” You laugh, bringing you head down to his level as he was sat. “To think, all this time I thought you were a cunt to me because you hated me. When really you just want to fuck me.” Shaking your head, you point a finger at him, “God that’s fucking pathe-”

Your further insults are cut short when he grabs you and kisses you harshly on the mouth, the only thing he could think to do to get you to shut the fuck up for once. And you’ll admit, you respected the bollocks on him for it.

Maybe it was the frustration of the night’s events. Maybe it was built up hate between the two of you boiling over. Neither of you are sure. But you let him pull you on to his lap, kissing him back, tongues and hands quickly becoming involved.

You feel the urge to call him names when you feel the hardness of his cock pressing against the inside of your thigh. But you stifle it, grabbing his hand to make him take his hoodie off your frame, not having to tell him to do the rest because he did so quickly. Rushing to unhook your bra and palm your tits, whilst you pull up his shirt, then down his trousers to gain access to his cock.

There was no finesse to it, just hurried grabbing and heated biting of lips of necks. Both of you wanting to assert some level of dominance and fuck each other before it dawned on you that you hate one another. And so, it wasn’t long before he yanked you forward to pull his joggers down and your knickers aside, his thick cock spreading you open as sit atop him. It surprised you how good it felt to have him thrusting up into you, whilst your hips rolled fuelled by dislike and desperate to cum almost immediately.

You did when he pushed you back, making you lay backwards before climbing on top of you and shoving himself back inside you. The new angle more than welcome, making you grunt as your orgasm neared. Hitting you hard as a freight train when his pace doubled to selfishly chase his own release, which due to the tight fluttering of your walls was closer than he realised.

“Oh fuck.” He spat, pressing you flat into his bed as you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist eager for more of his hammering pace. “That's it. Shi- God you feel fucking good.” You had it in you to laugh then, his whiney voice cracking as he neared his end enough to make you smirk. Though it was wiped from your face when his thrust faltered and stuttered as he came inside you, seemingly unbothered about the consequences.

Though in that moment you didn’t think about that either, too focused on the feeling of his release inside you.

It wasn’t the last time you’d be experiencing that tonight.

The morning quickly rolled around, and you slip out of Michael's bed to go and get something to drink, more than thirsty after last night. Bare feet pattering on wooden floorboards, you struggle to find his kitchen again as the house was unfamiliar. Eventually you get there and with your now dry clothes in hand you sit down with a much-needed glass of water.

You weren’t sat long when you register the sound of footsteps descending stairs, a prickle of dread as you thought it might be Michael.

"Who the fuck are you?" A gruff voice makes you turn your head towards the door of the kitchen, where a bloke you'd never seen before stood.

"Could ask the same for you." You raise an eyebrow at his curtness. "I'm Michael's... mate." You half-arse explain. The man leans on the doorframe a look of disbelief crossing his face, before he walked into the room smirking and started messing about with a coffee machine.

"What's funny about that?" You ask looking at him, there was resemblance between the two, but Mike would look 10 years younger stood next to his dad.

"Nothing." He looks you up and down. "Credit to him: you're alright." He answers through a smirk aimed at you. You just laugh, turning your attention to your phone. Not noticing when Mike came to find you.

Glancing up at him you give a nod of acknowledgement before going back to your scrolling. Completely missing when his father gestures towards you with his head, mouthing the word 'respect' to his son, who looked mortified.

"Stop being a dick, pa." Michael snapped. You look up to see what was going on, catching Mr Afton looking away from you with a laugh. And give Michael a raised brow smile, whilst his dad leaves the room, not without another glance in your direction.

"What are you grinning at?" His tone reaks of irritation. Only growing when you point to the empty door saying,

"THAT explains so much." Through a teasing laugh.

"Fuck off."

"I'm trying to, but there isn't a bus for half an hour. And my car is fucked, remember?" He rolled his eyes, going to the coffee machine himself and mumbling when asking you if you wanted some. You did and told him as such.

"Ay, thanks." You say as he sets it down in front of you. Having the curtesy to sit with you while you wait, lest his dad hear his footsteps and sneak in like a fox in a chicken coup.

"You alright?" You ask him, unused to the sensation of being pleasant with each other and so rejecting it, poking him in the ribs.

"Can you be quiet for like 5 fucking seconds?" Each word is near hissed at you.

"What kind of scene would this be, if I was?" You roll your eyes as you take a sip of the coffee he made you. Laughing as you thought of another way to piss him off. "You're one to talk anyway, with all the ‘talking’ you did last night." He turns to your words, face a clear warning.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck. That's it. Like that. Shi- God you feel fucking good-" You mock moan, accompanying it with a lewd gesture that made him look over his shoulder to check his dad hadn’t returned.

"Shut the fuck up!" He rises, "like you didn't have a good time." He says through a face of disgust. You continue giggling, loving how easy it was to wind him up.

"Practically drooling over my cock, like a dirty bitch." You just laugh again; he couldn’t even touch your feelings with that shit.

Letting silence fall over the two of you, you go back to your phone, giving him a smidge of respite. But he throws it back in your face after a mere two minutes.

"Will you stop tapping your foot, its driving me fucking nuts." And there's your green light to go at him again.

"You're a prick sometimes, Mike." You say, shaking your head. "But your dad- oh, no. He's really hot. Like scary, but scary sexy you get me?"

"Yeah... so's your mam." He snaps, his cheeks red. Instantly looking down when Mr Afton pops back in for something, unsure if you'll continue prodding and dreading if you did.

"Uhhh... my mam is dead, really funny there, mate." You say, your face falling still, and voice cracking on the last part. His whole demeanour changes, as does his father who stands like he's at attention in front of the squadron leader, both as tense as a spring.

"Oh shit, really? I'm sorry I-" He starts, panic flooding his face as he thought you were going to cry.

You laugh out of nowhere, "No. she isn't, Mike. But your fucking face." Mr Afton laughs from across the room, coming over to see the fallout that was about to occur, seeing the indignation on his son’s face and being unable to pity him.

"Ah you've got to bring this one back, Michael. She's fucking class." He says, grinning like a wolf. Mike scowls, despising you even more for ribbing on him with his own fucking dad.

"I should kick you the fuck out." He says exasperated, filled with dislike for you again. Sitting back down but not looking at you.

"Uh.” Mr Afton interjects. “You are not kicking my future daughter-in-law out of this house." You smirk, surprisingly feeling a tickle of guilt at being such a cock to him.

But you have a feeling that you'll make it up to him later.

#fnaf #fnaf au #fnaf michael afton #michael afton smut #michael afton x reader #fnaf william afton #fnaf smut #fnaf 18+

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strangeshoepatrolbandit · 11 months

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Thinking about Reader stealing Leon's jacket cuz it smells like him 🧘🏻‍♀️

Thief

Warnings: suggestive ending(I think)

C'mon, I couldn't not write something about this.

Leon Masterlist

~☆~

When Leon was packing for Europe, he had looked everywhere for a certain jacket of his, one that he had been wearing a lot lately. Leather but lined with soft fluffy fabric on the inside, thick enough to keep him warm for his hazardous work trip.

He asked you if you had seen it, you lied and told him that you had no idea where it went. He eventually gave up his search and opted for a different jacket.

He hauled his duffel bag over to the front door so that he could just grab it and leave when he needed. An action that made your heart clench but also allowed you to breathe again, knowing you had successfully gotten away with your lie.

In the time Leon was gone, you had worn many shirts of his, using them as an object of comfort when you ached from the absence of your lover. But nothing topped the heavy feeling of his jacket on your shoulders and how much it smelled like him. From a quick whiff, you could smell his usual cologne. However, if you actually held your nose up to it, you could smell his natural musk and the slight scent of his sweat.

You were glad that it hadn't been washed since the last time he briefly wore it on your last shopping trip together.

You hadn't heard from Leon since he called you to let you know he was alive and an estimate of the day he would be arriving home, no confirmed time.

And you hadn't heard the way he creaked open the front door, shutting and locking it behind himself before he made his way to the kitchen.

His eyes caught sight of you, you were wearing his shirt, his boxers, and on top of all that, you were wearing his "missing" jacket, far too big for you. You let out a gasp as you heard his duffel bag drop to the floor, abandoning your drink as you turned to find your lover staring at you.

"You little thief." He teased with a smile on his face as he walked closer to you. You gave him a bashful smile as you looked up at him, watching as he admired your disheveled form. Your hair was messy, and the clothes were crinkled, a sign that you were probably previously just laying in bed.

You bit your bottom lip as you awaited any contact from Leon. He was right in front of you after being gone and was doing nothing.

"Maybe it was for the better." He whispered to himself. You cocked an eyebrow and stared up at him, confused. "The jacket I did take got stolen."

You shook your head and reached your hands up to caress his face. "Maybe it was for the better." You smiled as you repeated his words. His hands landed on your hips as you leaned up and pressed a kiss against his lips. A kiss you've been waiting for ever since you closed the door behind him as he left for Europe.

His hands traveling to your thighs then pulling you up so that they rested around his hips made you breifly break away from his lips as you let out a squeal.

"Missed you." He smirked, putting his lips back on your own.

~☆~

I wrote out the "scent of his sweat" part and physically cringed.

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x y/n #leon x reader #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #re4r leon #re4r #re4 leon #re4 remake #x reader

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grievedeeply · 1 year

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Maybe a Glenn x reader fic where they reunite after the fall of the prison? The desperate holy shit you’re alive fluff

he had to be.

pairing: glenn rhee x gn!reader

summary: you make a beeline for terminus after the fall of the prison, determined to prove your worries about your husband's fate wrong.

notes: pre-established relationship, you don't take maggie's place— she exists in this, but isn't with glenn. this is on the shorter side, but i didn't want to drag it out too much with stuff we've already seen lol

you had lost count of how long it had been since the prison fell. all you could remember was losing track of everyone around you— their terrified faces as walkers and humans alike fled into the perimeter you had fought so hard to protect. you remembered hershel, maggie's father, the smile on his lips before he died.

you hadn't slept in days. even though sasha and bob had set up tents and traps for the walkers, you would lie down, unable to fall asleep. your thoughts were plagued with glenn's fate. what happened to him? he had to be alive. you sent him on the bus.. the bus was filled with walkers, but he wasn't one of them. he escaped. he was out there somewhere, and all you had to do was find him.

"there's a high probability of glenn being dead." you remembered sasha saying one night while she thought you were asleep. you couldn't hear bob's response. all you could picture was him. his eyes, his face. he was alive somewhere. he had to be. he was strong, smart.. braver than anyone you ever knew.

the feeling of your bag slipping down your shoulder brought you out of your mind. you hastily pulled it back up, lips pressed into a thin line as you watched the treeline. you glanced over your shoulder at bob and sasha, who both looked at you with pity in their eyes. they'd given up on glenn. you wouldn't. you couldn't.

you kicked at the rocks as you walked along the train tracks. you'd finally convinced them to go to terminus. it had taken days for sasha to give into the idea, but bob had been more lenient with your wishes. all you wanted was to know if he was alive.

you paused in front of another map, telling you that you were heading in the right direction. you swallowed. he knew that if you were going anywhere, it would be there. you thought of him, rick, michonne, maggie— everyone you cared about. you had to see them again. you had to.

from your peripheral, you saw the form of a walker coming towards you. sasha pulled out her weapon, "no," you said. "i have an idea." you said, taking out your knife. with a few large strides, you were able to reach it's head. a quick motion, and it was on the ground. you let out a sigh. that would always be scary. things could go so wrong so fast.

you kneeled down next to it, plunging your knife into it's chest and cutting down into it's stomach. it was gross, but you've seen worse living through an apocalypse. you coated your hand with it, and approached the wall that led into a nearby tunnel. you hoped he would come this way. you wished you could know, but this was better than nothing.

"glenn. come to terminus. y/n."

you took a step back, looking up at your messy writing.

god, you missed him.

"come on." you spoke up after a moment, nodding your head in the direction of the tunnel. you were going to terminus. you would meet him there, anywhere. you had to.

you wrote those same words on nearly every wall for miles. you still had a ways to go to terminus, but you were determined. you wouldn't give up on him. he was brave. he was beautiful.. oh, so beautiful. inside and out.

sasha and bob continued to trail behind you. they had shared a kiss, and you could tell that they weren't too sure what to call their relationship. it reminded you of when you had first kissed glenn. it was awkward, but peaceful. he was gentle. he always had been, even in his demeanor. it was one of the many things you loved about him.

you had never lost energy, motivated by the thought of seeing him again. you found it in you to sleep. it was the only time you were able to calm your mind, and sasha had insisted on it. over the past few days, she'd opened her mind to the possibility of glenn being alive. you weren't too sure what had changed within her, but you were glad she was thinking more positively.

"hey!" you heard the sound of an unfamiliar voice in front of you, and you aimed your gun in their direction. when your eyes focused, you saw the silhouettes of three people. a woman, and two men. "what do you want?" you called back to them, the grip on your weapon tightening. you didn't want to die. you couldn't.

"are you y/n?" you heard the same voice reply. a man's. you could see his red hair even through the bright light from the sun that fell into your vision. "who's asking?" sasha replied, voice cold and calculating.

"glenn's asking." a different voice said, the other man. he sounded considerably more monotonous than the one who'd spoke before. "glenn?" your voice softened at the mention of his name, before you refocused. these people could lie. they could've seen your messages on the tracks.

you heard the woman sigh from where she sat in the driver's seat of the military grade vehicle. "are you y/n or not? you look an awful lot like the picture."

the.. picture?

"yes. yes- i'm.. i'm y/n."

"glenn's looking for you. real desperate to find you." the woman said. "he's.. my husband. is he okay? where is he?" you replied, your voice becoming more desperate for information. "he's okay, last we saw of him. he went through a tunnel filled with walkers lookin' for ya." the redhead said.

you swallowed.

"get in already. all of ya."

you didn't hesitate, and climbed into the nearest seat. when you got into the vehicle, you were able to see your new companions clearly. you sat next to the redhead, whose mustache matched his hair and, somehow, his personality. he greeted you with a friendly smile, and a firm handshake. "i'm abraham ford. our driver here is rosita espinosa, dr. eugene porter, in the passenger."

"it's great to meet you. thank you. really." you smiled back, taking his hand before glancing back at bob and sasha, who hung onto the sides of the vehicle.

rosita put it in drive, and your throat tightened.

most of the ride was completely silent on your part, only speaking when someone spoke to you first. abraham asked you a few things about glenn, telling you that he spoke very highly of you and he seemed incredibly dedicated to finding you again. your face flushed at the thought. he was always going to put other people before himself.

"we're here." rosita told you, and you opened the door and rushed towards the tunnel. your heart pounded against your chest, you lifted your flashlight and ran in— the rest of the group following closely behind you.

the familiar sound of walkers growling filled your ears and you couldn't help but to think you were too late. as you approached, your breathing became heavier.

"duck!" abraham's voice called out from the noise, and he began firing his gun soon afterwards. you followed quickly after. he had to have seen glenn. as things calmed down, rosita and sasha began to pick off the ones the gunshots missed, and you looked around at your surroundings with a heavy heart.

"y/n?"

you turned your head, and let out a sigh of relief as you rushed toward him. "oh, glenn— baby." you whispered into his ear as his arms wrapped around you. your fingers tangled into his hair as you kissed at his jawline. "i missed you so much." he said, his voice quiet enough for only you to hear.

"missed you too. so so much." you pulled away from the hug to look into his eyes. he was covered in blood, but so were you. it didn't matter. you had him. you glanced over his shoulder at the woman he'd been shielding, and you smiled over at her.

"oh," glenn laughed, "tara, this is y/n. y/n, tara. she saved my life."

without hearing another word, you stepped forwards and brought her into a hug. "thank you." you chuckled. your eyes welling up with tears. there were still good people out there. she was only proving it. she said nothing for a few moments, "you don't have to thank me."

"you helped bring him back to me. thank you."

she pursed her lips, but smiled. "you're welcome." she turned on her heel, leaving the two of you alone again.

"they.. said you had the picture."

glenn's hand reached into his pocket, and he nodded. "it's the only picture i have of you." you couldn't help but to laugh, and you took his hands in yours. "let's burn it."

"what?"

"you won't need it anymore. we won't be apart again." you told him, an unmatched confidence in your voice. you couldn't pull your eyes away from him. you lifted your hands to his face, thumbs gently running over his skin.

he smiled, gaze soft as he stared into your eyes. "yeah, okay, sweetheart."

without another word, he pulled you back into his arms, pressing his lips to the side of your head.

he wouldn't need it anymore.

tags: @spaghettto @kitkatscabinet @luna-charlie @hayleethefrog | join my taglist!

#twd x reader #glenn rhee x reader #twd #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead #glenn rhee

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number-one-shadisper-shipper · 11 months

Text

Happy Wholesome Sonic and Tails Wednesday!

I wanted to share a cute little oneshot I wrote about Sonic and Tails not long after they first started wandering around together. This story is based on/inspired by @skimmingmilk's wonderful origin story "Chart a Course to Second Chances" from their Sometimes the Picket Fence Isn't Perfect series. I loved the portrayal of Classic Sonic's mutism and Tails's backstory and trauma. This oneshot is mostly just fluff, though. Enjoy!

A Little Fox with Messy Fur

(Sonic is 11 and Tails is around 3 or 4)

It had been a busy day. Sonic and Tails had destroyed a whole batch of Eggman robots and chased him out of a nearby town. Now they were making their way back to their latest campsite in the woods.

Tails gestured to a small creek they were walking past and made splashy motions and sounds. He liked to swim around to relax sometimes. Sonic's chest tightened slightly at the thought of water, but he nodded and they walked over. Anything for his buddy. It wasn't deeper than wading height, even for little Tails, but Sonic still opted to stay on the bank while he jumped in and splashed around.

Sonic kept a sharp eye on him to make sure he didn't end up in any trouble. Honestly, Tails was probably a better swimmer than him. Mostly since he couldn't swim at all. But something could still happen.

Tails soon grew tired of splashing and finished by rubbing out his fur a bit in the water, something akin to a bath without soap. He crawled out of the creek and shook vigorously. Sonic jumped out of the splash zone, wrinkling his nose. Water. Bleah.

Tails wrung himself out. Once he was sure there was no more threat of getting wet, Sonic reached into his backpack and pulled out their shared towel. Tails was content to let Sonic rub him dry.

As he dried his little buddy, Sonic noticed how tangled up his fur was getting. A few tufts came off in the towel, which was... probably normal? It was shedding season. At least, he thought so. That really only applied to animals with fur, so he wasn't sure. He occasionally lost and grew back quills, but he didn't really shed.

Sonic frowned as he finished drying him. The "bath" really hadn't done much good. Tails's fur was too matted to really clean it well. Even when Sonic had first met the little guy, his fur had been dirty and matted.

How long had he been on his own before Sonic came along?

Sonic paused. He'd never thought about how hard fox fur must be to take care of. His own quills were quick to bounce back into place with a shake or two. Sometimes things got stuck in them, little twigs or leaves or debris, and then he'd have to sit and pick them out, but besides that his pelt was pretty low-maintenance.

Tails, on the other hand... he looked a little scruffy. Part of that was that his fur was now sticking out in all sorts of directions from Sonic's rubdown. But even in general, all the robot battling and sleeping in the woods was taking its toll.

Well, if his little friend needed more care, he'd just have to help him out. No one else was looking after him, so he'd made that his job until he could find someone else. Someone who'd be able to care for him right.

Truth be told, he didn't really want to think that far ahead. He would miss the little whir flying along behind him.

He shook his head. This wasn't the time to worry about that. Right now he needed to get this taken care of. He motioned Tails to follow him towards a village he'd spotted on his last scouting run. Surely they could buy a fur brush there.

Tails trotted happily along beside him, making little noises to himself. Some of them sounded almost like words. Sonic felt a small pang as he realized that surely the toddler should be talking by now. Maybe if he had a real family, someone who talked to him, he'd have picked it up already.

Sonic hadn't talked in a while. He didn't really feel like it, although he kept up such a loud monologue in his head it felt like spilling over a lot. But even when he tried, he found his voice just wouldn't come. Part of it was that people overwhelmed him a little. They asked too many questions and never seemed to like his answers for some reason. Part of it was everything he'd been through with Eggman. He hated to admit it, but yeah, having to deal with all the horrid stuff Eggman put him through was a lot for an eleven-year-old.

But Tails should have a chance to talk. Maybe Sonic'd try a little harder to get the words to come out. Sometimes he almost felt like he could speak around him. It was the first time he'd felt truly comfortable with someone.

They reached the village. As they got closer, Tails slowed and cowered behind him. Sonic understood. He wasn't super keen to be around a lot of people either. Plus, he knew Tails hadn't really had great experiences with others. When he'd met him, some older kids were bullying him, and he'd had to step in to stop it. Even after the kit started following him around, it took a while to get him to actually come close, or to let him touch him at all. Now Sonic could give him gentle shoulder pats or fur ruffles or even carry him sometimes, but they were still working on it.

Speaking of... Sonic paused to look at Tails, still hiding behind him. He wouldn't make him go into the village if he was scared, but he also knew he didn't like being out of his sight for long. Maybe... He held out his paw and grinned. Tails smiled a bit and put his own tiny paw in his, a little reassurance that Sonic'd be looking after him. They walked into the village together, making their way to the square.

Once they'd walked around a bit, Tails felt safe enough to let go of his hand and wander around a tiny bit. He got distracted by some sort of organizing machine nearby. Sonic chuckled internally. By the time he'd finished shopping, Tails would probably have the whole machine figured out and could build his own. He was such a smart little dude.

Sonic made sure to keep an eye on him as he wandered through the market stands. He still had to make sure no one would mess with his friend. If they did, well... there would be trouble.

He finally spotted a brush at one of the stands. He waved to get the attention of the person who ran it and motioned to the brush. He also decided to grab a comb, just in case. Maybe it'd help him with his quills too.

He gave the guy a handful of rings and glanced back at Tails, who was still watching the machine in awe. Sonic started to walk over to him, but paused. He still had some rings... and he'd walked by a stand selling candy a few minutes ago. He grinned. While Tails was still distracted, he bought a small bag of mints. They were the kit's favorite treat. He tucked them away before Tails could see. It'd make a nice surprise later.

He waved to Tails and motioned him to follow. They left the village. Tails bounced happily along, moving his fingers and drawing in the air to make what looked like could be math equations? He was probably still figuring out the machine and making plans to improve it.

Man, if only everyone knew how awesome he was, he'd have folks lining up to give him a home. It was so stupid how no one could see past his extra tail.

They got back out to their campsite. Tails sat down in an soft patch of grass. Sonic pulled out the fur brush and held it up. Tails' eyes flickered between him and the brush and he pulled back a bit, curling his knees to his chest. Had he ever seen one before? Maybe it looked threatening. Sonic smiled reassuringly and mimed brushing his own quills. See? It's okay.

Tails remained curled up, but he relaxed a little. Sonic knelt down beside him and reached out with the brush slowly. He intended to give it him and let him use it, but the kit simply stared, making no move to take it. Right. He was still a toddler. He probably didn't really know how to do it himself anyways.

Sonic softly touched the brush against his shoulder. Tails eyed it suspiciously and pulled away from the contact. Sonic pulled the brush back, and gave him another friendly grin and a thumbs-up. Tails relaxed and allowed him to reach the brush out again.

Sonic touched the brush against him again. Once Tails was okay with it, he moved the brush over his fur slightly. Tails stared curiously as he ran the brush down his arm a few times before moving to his back. Within moments, Tails was purring and leaning into the brush like a kitten getting petted. Sonic smiled.

It took a bit, but the tangles started coming out. Sonic had to slow down for the really knotty bits, switching to the comb for some parts. Tails was surprisingly patient with the process, especially when Sonic made little motions to let him know he was getting to a rough spot so the tug wouldn't surprise him.

As he reached Tail's tails, the little fox pulled away. He clutched them tightly against his chest, staring at Sonic with his forehead furrowed.

Oh yeah. He was very protective of his tails. Sonic'd seen the bullies yanking on them when he'd first rescued him. Even now people looked at them funny. To be fair, it was unique, but that was no excuse for anyone to be mean to him.

Sonic stepped back, nodding to show him he'd respect his boundaries. Tails glanced down, then stared up at Sonic with complete and utter trust in his eyes. He uncurled slowly and moved his tails where Sonic could reach them. Sonic smiled. He'd be extra careful.

He finished brushing him and stepped back to survey his work. Still not perfect, but definitely better. He didn't look like a stray anymore. He looked like someone was taking care of him.

Sonic grinned and gave Tails a thumbs up. Tails looked down at himself and ran his fingers through his fur. They didn't snag or anything.

Tails smiled at him. "T'anks!"

Sonic almost jumped at the first real word he'd heard him speak. He was picking things up. Good for him!

He wanted to reply, to say something, anything back. His lips formed the words "You're welcome," but no sound came out. He bit back a feeling of disappointment and tried again. This time, something did come out. It wasn't words, and it stung his throat a little, but it was a noise. A cheerful grunt. And it was more than he'd said in a long time.

Tails blinked his big eyes. A tiny purr rumbled in his chest. He'd seemed to understand that Sonic was pleased with his speaking. Sonic gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up and pulled out the bag of mints. Now was as good a time as any.

Tails squeaked and happily sat back to stuff the candy in his mouth. Sonic grinned. Man, he loved this little guy.

Wait, love?

Oh shoot.

He was attached now.

Thank you for reading!

#wholesome sonic and tails wednesday #wstw #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #sonic #sonic and tails #tails #fluff #they're brothers your honor #sonic fic #fanfic #writing #fanfiction writer

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mr-miss-anonymous · 3 months

Text

Uhhhh I wrote something again. You hear that? That’s the sound of my professor asking why I haven’t finished my paper instead of writing shitty attempts at ambulaid angst. Anywho… this is a sort of addition to @rust-bearer’s post found heeeere (sorry for the tag, I just wanna make sure you get credit and stuff). So. Enjoy? Maybe? It’s very short, like ~990 words, probably won’t even post to a03 cause y’know, I’m lazy.

Also quick warning for a very mild emeto/vom mention and maybe gore warning too? Not really, but just in case.

“You know, Ambulon, I never really understood why you wouldn’t just let me help you in the first place.”

First Aid wasn’t exactly trained in producing pristine paint jobs, but with the steady servos that came from ages spent as a medic, he saw to it that the job was good enough. Stretched out on the table beneath him lay Ambulon, who had yet to give any pushback to First Aid’s meticulous and nitpicking repair process. Of course, he didn’t exactly have much of a choice. When First Aid had set his mind to tidying up Ambulon’s chipping paint once and for all, he had already established that nothing was going to stop him.

The process was a little messy, of course. Ambulon was rather quiet for the entire process, which… well, First Aid could understand. Living with such an uncomfortable problem for so long likely made it a little embarrassing to finally have it fixed, so he didn’t fault his old ward manager for not being very chatty during the repair sessions.

Yes, First Aid thought glumly, gently lifting one of Ambulon’s arms to coat the rest of his wrist in a thick layer of red, sessions plural. Ambulon had proved to be a rather difficult patient to treat, given his frame’s apparent proneness to rejecting the paint samples First Aid tried to apply.

He tried not to consider the very likely possibility that a mech who was no longer online probably wouldn’t have the capacity of keeping said paint job like a living bot would. It was already bad enough having to walk into the old operating room after hours and be met with the sight of a cold, greying frame laying stretched out across the exam table as soon as the lights came on.

During the first few nights spent treating Ambulon, First Aid often wouldn’t be able to make it more than a few hours without having to step out and regain his composure or give up entirely for the evening. But now? Now, he was a natural. Now, Ambulon no longer looked like just another dead face among thousands lost in the casualties of war. Now, Ambulon looked like… well, Ambulon. First Aid was no skilled technician when it came to the more cosmetic side of the medical industry, but he certainly gave the last few living bots in the field a run for their money.

Sliding the sander over a rather course and bumpy edge of Ambulon’s plating, First Aid hummed a soft tune from behind his mask. He paused for a moment, replacing the sander with a paint brush once he’d found another spot in need of a fresh coat, and took a moment to spray it red before he continued.

Given Ambulon’s medical history, First Aid knew for a fact that the paint he applied should have been peeling off again within days, whether due to Ambulon’s annoying habit of picking at the flakes or the paint simply refusing to stay. Now, however, Ambulon’s frame was perfect. It was perfect, and pristine, and… and…

It was dull. It was lifeless.

With a sigh of satisfaction, First Aid gathered up the tools used for that day’s work and set them back on the side tray at the foot of the berth. He no longer bothered putting things back in storage, not when he knew the job wasn’t yet finished. Ambulon’s frame was looking good so far, but First Aid kept finding little things here and there that still needed touching up the longer he looked.

“I guess that’s all we’ll get done today,” First Aid said, giving his servos a good wipe with a nearby towel. “You’re probably just as tired as I am. But hey, it’s looking better than last time, at least.”

Last time referred to the night before, when First Aid had made a critical mistake in his repairs. Something must have gone wrong with his welded seams, as before he knew it, Ambulon’s frame was splitting in half again, right down the middle. The realization that he needed to go back into fixing the issue with much more precision hadn’t been so bad as when First Aid finally came back to his senses sometime after seeing the split frame again for the second time since the incident with Pharma.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been out of it, or what exactly had happened to trigger the episode, but First Aid had quickly realized that something must have gone wrong after finding himself kneeling in a puddle of his own vomit, tears streaming down his face and energon staining the tips of his fingers from where they were dug too deep into the edge of the berth, leaving grooves and dried energon behind that First Aid lacked the energy to fix… or clean, for that matter.

That was over now, he reminded himself. Ambulon was okay. He’d cleaned the mess, wiped himself up, and then got right back to work fixing his mistakes. And now here he was, in the last stretch, working to touch up any spots of paint he had missed after originally going over Ambulon’s frame with the fresh coats.

“If you ask me,” First Aid continued, having stopped cleaning up to drag a chair over to the berthside. He sat down, then propped his helm up in his servos, elbows resting against the table. “I kind of preferred your original paint job. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you pull off the typical red and white just fine, but…”

First Aid trailed off, and as expected, only silence followed. He didn’t exactly mind, but it would’ve been nice to get a little feedback from Ambulon again, if only just once more.

“I dunno, I guess I just wish Pharma hadn’t been so stringent about all the stupid rules back at Delphi,” First Aid said with a shrug.

He paused, studying Ambulon’s frame for any signs of the old paint job poking through his new colors, but found nothing. With a quiet huff, First Aid let his arms drop onto the table, then rested his helm atop them.

“Personally? I thought you looked good in your old colors. They were unique, and pretty, and…”

As if realizing he’d trailed off from the subject, First Aid quickly gave a shake of his Helmand cleared his throat. “Sorry, got off-track there. But really, Ambulon. That color scheme? It suited you well. Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but I bet you felt the same way as me, right?”

Silence. First Aid patiently waited for a response, but none ever came. “Yeah,” he eventually said, the discomfort clear in his voice. “Good talk.”

Suddenly feeling rather exhausted, First Aid buried his face into his arms and sighed. A little sleep couldn’t hurt, he supposed. Besides, he was sure Ambulon would appreciate the extended company. It felt wrong, in a way, but First Aid couldn’t help slipping one arm free of his cozy hunch to slink it down the length of Ambulon’s side, only stopping to interlink his fingers with Ambulon’s cold, still servo. He knew, of course, that the only heat source in that cold, dead room came from him, but if he really thought about it, First Aid could almost imagine Ambulon’s fingers squeezing him back just as tightly.

“Goodnight, Ambulon,” First Aid whispered, and with tears welling behind his optics, he slipped into another light, fitful recharge.

#first aid #ambulon #ambulaid #what the fuck is thissssss #i got carried away

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heyiwrotesomethings · 2 years

Note

make them requests 8

Fav author of mine, hello once again.

I would like to humbly request a shinobu x she/her reader, mafia (AU).The reader is an assassin that works for about anyone if they have the requirements<friends w shin>.(💵) Shinobu is against douma's gang because he killed Kanae. But douma wants to hire an assassin to kill shin ,so he turns to the reader but having work with her and knowing the reason she is after douma–not me hating his guts– so she declines. the bastard asked around and found some trustworthy sources that told him about the relationship between his enemy and the interesting assassin.

So in order to make both of the people he's after suffer, he kidnaps shinobu and sends a vid/photo /calls the reader to let her know what he will do to her if she doesn't come.And she goes to save her.

I shall leave the rest to your capable hands.

No Loose Ends

Shinobu Kochou x She/ Her Reader Modern AU

A/N: These two were similar so I combined them. Hope that was fine! I had fun writing this one. Sometimes I get a little discouraged because I don’t see any improvements in my overall writing ability but I feel like I can say pretty confidently that this turned out better than the original assassin fic I wrote so I hope you guys like it too! I’m not well versed in mafia knowledge or writing decent fight scenes, but I did my best. Hope y’all like it! ~~~ = the past. Warnings: Profanity, very brief mention of sexual activity, guns and murder, quite a bit of murder. Word Count: 8,239

“Took you long enough,” Shinobu teased from where she laid sprawled out upon the couch, a laptop resting on her stomach as she typed.

(Y/n) was sure if the other leaders within their circle knew that this was how their boss conducted her business in the privacy of her own home, they would probably throw a fit at how unprofessional she looked at that moment.

“Ew, don’t you dare track any blood and guts on that rug, I just bought that.” She added when she took a moment to look over the edge of her screen.

“Maybe if your buddy Tomioka could have provided me with a little more info, I would have been back earlier and a lot less messy than I am right now.” (Y/n) huffed, removing what she could of her blood soaked clothes in the entryway.

“I could use some help here.”

Shinobu rolled her eyes and put her laptop on the coffee table. She sat up and stretched, but made no move to actually stand.

“Just leave them on the tiles, I’ll call someone to dispose of them properly. As for Tomioka, I’ll tack an extra five grand to his bill. Does that seem fair?”

(Y/n) pretended to mull it over before nodding, a smirky kind of smile tugged at her lips at the thought of a bigger pay day.

“Yeah, that seems fair for my pain and suffering.”

“Good. Now go clean up so we can decide what to order for dinner. It’s late enough as it is, we’ll be lucky if anything good is still open.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll try to be quick.” (Y/n) tip-toed as fast as she could to the luxurious bathroom, happy to see that Shinobu seemed to have filled the tub in anticipation of her late arrival.

“Anything in particular you hope is open?” Shinobu called from the couch as (Y/n) finished undressing.

“You know what I like. I’ll be fine with whatever place you want.” (Y/n) called back.

“Okay!”

It was still kind of surreal to (Y/n) how she had ended up here. When she was younger, she had been living alone on the streets and reached a point where she decided she was through waiting for help that would never come. She decided she would start helping herself.

~~~

The first time she killed was when she had been followed down an alley by a tall, foreboding man. He pulled a knife on her, but she pulled hers quicker, slicing and stabbing until he slid to the ground.

Her heartbeat raced watching him choke on his own blood, but she was surprised not to feel any regret or panic at what she had done. It was no accident, she made sure no one saw them enter that alley, she planned to kill him if he tried to attack her, but she didn’t expect to feel as eerily calm as she did.

She took his cash, easily sellable items that weren’t personalized, made sure that there was nothing around tying her to the scene and then stealthily left the alley with what she estimated to be about eight hundred dollars.

She doesn’t remember the man’s face, but she does remember that her belly was full for the first time in months and she slept in a room where the door could lock and had an actual bed free of mites.

She was careful, but it didn’t take long before people came sniffing around. People on the streets talked, and if you suddenly had yourself a decent apartment and a little money to spare, they were going to find out why sooner or later. Fortunately, that only seemed to grant (Y/n) more opportunities.

She liked to call herself a freelancer in polite company. It wasn’t a lie, but people typically pictured journalism or photography when she said that, not an assassin for hire.

The life she had then was a far cry from what she knew as a young teenager. She had a business. Whether one would call it respectable or not was up for debate, but the money was good and a valid job never went unfinished.

It was through her work that she had first met Shinobu. The freshly appointed leader of her gang after the murder of her sister at the hands of a rival group. A cult of all things. (Y/n) recalled it had been raining.

“You’re the assassin.” Shinobu stated it as a matter of fact as she matched (Y/n)’s strides, marching beside her in the flooded sidewalk.

“And if you know that much, then you know the rules.” (Y/n) had quipped, not even glancing at Shinobu as she walked on. “You stop at one of my designated spots, leave your info and I contact you. Got it?”

“I don’t have time for that.” Shinobu persisted. “I need to make him pay, now.”

“Well I hate to break it to you sweetheart, but I have a system and not even you are special enough to override that. You want my help, you follow the rules.”

Shinobu growled and turned abruptly in front of (Y/n), blocking her path.

“I am the leader of the Kochou Clan, and you will listen to me or you will be very sorry!”

“Ah, you mean that Robin Hood group that steals from the rich to give to the poor? I find that rather hard to believe, threatening me like this. Doesn’t sound like something leader of a respectable group like that would say at all.” (Y/n) taunted.

“And why would you come here yourself if you truly are in such an important position? Why come here at all, even? You should have really had an underling come in your stead. Not very smart, nor safe.” She tisked. She tried to sidestep Shinobu, but she blocked her path again, fire burning in her eyes.

“Kanae, my sister, the last of my blood related family after our parents were killed in a car crash, the kindest person to ever walk the face of this shitty planet, was just slaughtered in cold blood. I’m not going to sit back and trust that it will all just work out. I—“ Shinobu shuddered under the cold rain, “—I can pay. I will pay you, give you anything you want I—“

“Alright just keep your voice down.” (Y/n) sighed and took off her heavy rain coat, throwing it over Shinobu’s head. “You’re freezing, we’ll talk inside.”

This was why (Y/n) had a system. So pretty girls didn’t come up to her close to tears on the sidewalk where just anyone could overhear and now she had brought her up to her apartment so now she knows where she lives. She may be an assassin, but she was not heartless. That was her weakness.

They talked until well into the morning. Shinobu gave (Y/n) all the information she had and they negotiated the terms of their contract. (Y/n) had to school her expression to one of neutrality when she heard Shinobu was willing to give her half a million dollars up front and another half a million upon completing the job. There was no back and forth counter offers, that was just her first unprompted offer.

“That’s a lot of money.” (Y/n) stated the obvious, mostly because she was stunned into silence otherwise. It was all she could bring herself to say.

“For justice for my sister, it is nothing.” Shinobu replied.

(Y/n) rubbed tiredly at her face. She couldn’t believe she was going to say what she would next.

“I’m not taking a million dollars.”

Shinobu opened her mouth, to either cuss her out or raise the offer, (Y/n) didn’t wait to listen.

“I am not taking a million dollars because that’s insane. You use that money to help people. Your people do good things with that money and I’ve seen lives turned around since you guys started up. This bastard that killed your sister,” (Y/n) could really not believe what she was saying right now,

“I’ll kill him for free.”

Shinobu was insulted and refused at first, but in the end (Y/n) had convinced her that it would be a shame to have Kanae’s hard work wasted on an already well off assassin. That money had to go to people who really needed it.

Instead, Shinobu promised to give her no shortage of jobs. As pure as her gang’s intentions were, their means were very much not. She had many connections that could benefit from the help of an assassin. They shook on it and the deal had been struck.

It took about three months to find the man that had gunned down Kanae, and (Y/n) recognized him. A competitor in her line of business. She could have simply killed him. All Shinobu wanted was the head of her sister’s killer, but this man wasn’t the one who wanted her dead, he had simply pulled the trigger.

She tortured him until he squealed the name of the man who called for the hit.

“Douma!” He cried, “It was Douma of the Eternal Paradise Cult! I don’t know what else to tell you! He’s never even let me see his face!”

Douma, (Y/n) had heard of him. He was a very illusive man, however. Even if he wanted to meet with someone, the hoops he’d make them jump through were no joke. He was careful, calculated, and apparently wanted the whole Kochou Clan destroyed if the little wrinkled and outdated photo of Shinobu she found in the other assassin’s pocket was anything to go by.

She put the unfortunate conduit of Douma’s demands out of his misery and took his head back to Shinobu, telling her all that she could.

Shinobu sat stone-faced as she absorbed the information. She nodded robotically when (Y/n) asked her if she was okay. She had known that someone wanted her dead, but having it all laid out before her, to have a name, it was a lot.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” (Y/n) shook her head. “The job isn’t complete.”

“You killed the man who killed my sister. That was all I asked of you.” Shinobu reminded.

“He was only doing the job he had been given. Douma is the one who wanted Kanae dead. I don’t like loose ends and…”

And… (Y/n) had grown far too attached. Douma would find out that his hired gun was dead and he’d search for another. Shinobu’s life would be in jeopardy until Douma was dead.

(Y/n) hadn’t expected Shinobu to rush in to kiss her in that moment she paused, but she did. And (Y/n) certainly wasn’t stopping her. Maybe it was adrenaline from earlier, maybe all that teasing and flirting over the past three months had been leading up to this, but it seemed to mean more to Shinobu than just a way to forget about Douma’s plan for her.

(Y/n) knew she was in trouble the moment Shinobu came to her in the rain. Even then as she eagerly kissed Shinobu back and let herself be pushed into the gang leader’s bedroom, alarm bells sounded in her head as she broke all the rules she had so carefully placed for herself.

Don’t stray from the system.

Don’t form attachments with clients.

Certainly don’t sleep with clients.

And never ever ever fall in love.

~~~

Yeah, I’m in much too deep. (Y/n) thought to herself as she scrubbed, watching the water turn pink around her.

That had been over three years now, they had become lovers, moved in together, just decided to get engaged last week… it would have seemed like a happy ending if not for the dark cloud that still hung over their heads.

Still not a single helpful lead to find Douma after years of searching. In that time, (Y/n) had stopped eleven other attempts on Shinobu’s life. All the information she gleaned from the assassins completely contradicted each other, leaving Douma virtually untraceable. He definitely knew someone was trying to find him through these hired guns.

Some people had systems and knew how to stick to them it would seem, she thought bitterly.

Once she was clean, she drained and rinsed out the tub and put on some comfy clothes. She flopped onto the couch beside Shinobu and kissed her cheek.

Shinobu hummed, looking up from her phone’s food tracking app to appraise (Y/n)’s blood-free appearance.

“For as attractive as it is to see you splattered with the blood of our enemies, this is much better,” She kissed the assassin softly, “welcome home.”

“Happy to be home.” (Y/n) smiled wrapping her arms around Shinobu’s waist.

***

(Y/n) woke in the early afternoon, happy to see that Shinobu was still dozing beside her. She traced the colorful tattoos along Shinobu’s back with her eyes. An array of butterflies, dragonflies and flowers. Her gaze lingered on the largest butterfly that rested high against Shinobu’s shoulder blade. She had gotten that one done for Kanae. It was frustrating to think that they were no closer to avenging her death.

“I can feel you staring.” Shinobu grumbled, she took a deep breath as she flipped over. Her eyes remained closed as she tried to hold onto sleep, she slung her arm behind the assassin’s back, running her fingers up and down its length.

“Sleep another hour at least.”

“I’m supposed to meet a potential client at four.” (Y/n) reminded.

Shinobu hooked a leg around over (Y/n)’s hip to illustrate how much she disliked the reminder.

“I need to get ready,” she kissed the top of Shinobu’s head, “The sooner I’m done, the sooner I get back.”

“Fine.” Shinobu sighed and slipped her limbs off of (Y/n)’s body, cracking an eye open to watch her fiancée (Fiancée! She was still getting used to the word.) slip out of the bed.

(Y/n) hovered over her and gave her a quick kiss before pulling back.

“I love you, I’ll be back soon.”

“Love you too.” Shinobu mumbled through a sleepy smile. She buried her head into (Y/n)’s pillow and went back to sleep.

(Y/n) looked down at her adoringly for a moment more before getting ready for her meeting clear across the city.

***

(Y/n) went to sit at the chosen park bench overlooking the pond, and waited. If the client didn’t make an approach in another ten minutes, the window would close and she could leave, but a girl with long white hair came to sit beside her only a couple minutes later.

“What’s the job?” (Y/n) asked.

“My boss is particular. He’ll want to see you himself before he commits to your services.”

“Then he should have come.” (Y/n) shrugged.

Never let a stranger take you to a second location. That was just a general rule everyone should follow.

The girl reached into her pocket and (Y/n) pinned her wrist.

“Do not start pulling out cash here.” She warned.

“Listen, if my boss doesn’t get to talk to you, it’s my head on the line. You can search me, the car, hold a gun to my head on the way there, I don’t care. Just come.”

“Now I know it’s not that simple. If your boss won’t come here himself, he’s not going to like me knowing where he lives.”

“The location is off the grid. Even he’s never been there before.”

(Y/n) leaned against the bench and blew out a heavy sigh. This situation had bad idea written all over it. Yet something was telling her to go, and not just her conscious feeling bad for the girl playing messenger. She mentally apologized to Shinobu. This would probably take longer than she had previously estimated.

“What do I call you?”

“Call Me Daki.”

“Alright Daki, let’s get this over with.”

(Y/n) couldn’t believe she was doing this. She followed Daki to her car, noting the crisp license plates and fresh paint job. Whoever Daki’s boss was, was dangerously cunning and did not cut corners.

She’d need to be thinking three steps ahead or more with a guy like that. Curse her gut, she should have just listened to her brain.

Daki drove out of the city and into the mountains. That drive alone took three hours. Then she turned onto a gravel road and went on that for another half hour before stopping at a scenic outlook that looked like it stopped being maintained a decade ago. She parked next to the only other car in the lot. The only other car they had seen since they turned onto the gravel road.

“Get out.” Daki said, unbuckling her seatbelt and stepping out of the driver seat.

(Y/n) did, and found two men waiting on her side to pat her down and she tensed. She heard a laugh a ways off behind her.

“Don’t worry, you can keep your weapons. It’s just a formality, really.”

Against her better judgment, she listened to the man and allowed herself to be pat down. The men looked over her head shaking their heads at whoever was behind her.

“Aw, really? No phone?” The voice was closer now. “Why not?”

“Phones are traceable, personal.” (Y/n) replied simply, schooling her expression, she did not turn to face the man.

“Aren’t you smart. You haven’t even turned to face me yet. Afraid I won’t let you leave alive otherwise?”

“After all the effort you went through to get me out in the middle of nowhere? I’m considering it a possibility.”

The man giggled.

“You, I like you.”

A large, well manicured hand rested on (Y/n)’s shoulder.

“Seems like my sources are right, you are the real deal, and the real deal is what I need. Come now, turn for me, I want to see the face of the best assassin in the city, maybe even the country. I could never imagine killing such a fascinating human being.”

(Y/n) didn’t need to decide if she should turn, the man did it for her with surprising strength. She was met with vibrant eyes the color of rainbows, long hair so blonde it was more apt to call it white, but it seemed natural compared to Daki’s.

“Breathtaking,” the man crooned, “come sit, we have much to discuss.”

It was almost comical really, sitting down at a card thin folding table and a couple of camping chairs to discuss killing someone.

“Bring the cases, would you boys?”

The men that had frisked (Y/n) placed two hefty looking suitcases onto the table. Quite frankly, she was surprised the table hadn’t folded under their combined weight.

The men opened them with a motion from their boss and (Y/n) had to stop her eyebrows from noticeably shooting upward.

“Two million dollars.” The man boasted. “You may count it if you’d like.”

“I’m good. You haven’t even told me what the job is yet.”

“Ah, look at me jumping ahead! Of course, of course. I have to say you have me nervous. Looking at all this money without batting an eye… does ten million sound more appealing? Boys, pop the trunk.”

“That won’t be necessary. Target and specifications of how you want the job done first. Monetary negations last. That is, if we get that far.”

“So mean.”

The man pouted, though (Y/n) didn’t buy it for a second. For as expressive and eccentric as the man appeared to act, it all seemed to be… well, an act.

“I’ll weasel into your heart yet, my lady. Five million up front, five million after the deed is done. All you have to do, is kill this girl. Now, the photo is outdated unfortunately, she’s probably in her twenties by now…”

It took everything (Y/n) had to keep an impassive expression. She tilted her head and scrutinized the picture as if laying eyes on it the first time, but it would be the thirteenth time now that she had seen the same old, grainy photocopied school picture of Shinobu.

After years of dead ends, Douma had sought her out himself and was unknowingly propositioning her to kill her fiancée.

She could kill him, she could kill him right now. Except… his men were armed, Daki as well. She had seen the glint of guns in the forest as the sky turned orange. If she died killing Douma, Shinobu would bring her back to life and kill her herself.

She waited for Douma to finish his rambling, pretending to mull over how to proceed. She sighed and closed her eyes.

“Sorry, but I’ll have to decline.”

“Huh?” Douma blinked owlishly, “But why?”

“This either isn’t worth my time, or you are leaving important details out. I don’t understand why you would offer ten million for the death of a single woman.”

“Why does anyone do anything?” He moaned, slumping in his chair, “The Kochou Clan has been stealing my followers for years. Offering them money and resources when they have no where else to go, when all they have to do is come to me for salvation. They were really getting on my nerves.

Then they even took my dear Kotoha away from me when she went begging. Offering her the money she needed to take herself and her little boy far away without a trace. She thought me a monster, but what monster takes in a teen mother and expects nothing in return? She wasn’t very bright that one, so quick to overreact.“

Douma decided to lean in over the table instead, staring at (Y/n) with his big, empty eyes. Whatever Kotaha saw in this man, (Y/n) had no doubt she had every right to flee.

“I’ll admit, you’ll be the thirteenth assassin I will have had sent her way, thus the pay. Surely you would relish a challenge such as this. Is it still not worth your time?”

(Y/n) forced her voice to remain even, uninterested.

“No. I’m sorry. This just isn’t the job for me.”

“Why not?” Douma whined once more, flopping against the table.

“Because it sounds boring, frankly.” (Y/n) stood. “Will your friend over there drive me back to the city or do I have to find my own way back?” She bravely asked.

Douma giggled and shook his head in disbelief.

“You really won’t do it?”

(Y/n) fixed him with a stony look and let the question hang in the air.

“You are truly fascinating. I can’t get a read on you at all. Just what are you thinking in there? Who are you?”

“I’m sure you know as well as I, sharing that kind of information is the exact kind of thing that gets you killed.”

Douma bit down on his lower lip. Had he finally met his match? He wanted to know everything about this woman and he wanted to know now, but the chase would be good. He could wait.

“If you insist, then I guess we are done here,” he turned to Daki, “Take the lady where she wants to go, Daki. Get her back safely and you can keep your head.”

“Yes sir.”

As (Y/n) opened the passenger seat door and got into the car, Douma leaned down to look at her through the window and fogged the glass up with his breath. He drew a little heart in the steam and (Y/n) suppressed a shudder.

“I hope I’ll see you again soon, lucky number thirteen. I’ll be thinking about you.”

(Y/n) turned her head away and muttered to Daki.

“Could you just fucking drive already.”

“Shut up.”

Douma stepped away from the car and into his own. Before Daki could fully pull out (Y/n) could see him waving at her through his window.

Even now as Daki drove her back down the mountain she had to keep her cool. Had to act like she hadn’t just let Douma slip right through her fingers. She just had to keep chanting to herself that they had a face to go with the name. They would figure out how to proceed together.

“I can’t believe you turned him down like that.” Daki said for maybe the eighth time as she sped down the mountain. “You’re insane.”

“Can you tell me something Daki, does he usually let people who deny him get this far?” (Y/n) asked, watching the heart fade from the window.

Daki was quiet a minute, but shook her head.

“No, he doesn’t.”

Well, at least she had that going for her. He liked her for some fucked up reason.

When Daki got back to the city the sky was pitch dark and the street lamps shined like stars. So much for a quick meeting, but Shinobu would understand soon enough.

She directed Daki to the same park they had met and waited for her to drive off and waited twenty minutes more to monitor her surroundings and check her clothes for bugs and trackers.

Then she took the longest, twisty, back and forth path home that she possibly could. Traveling on foot, taking a bus several stops ahead of home, getting on a train to head in a totally different direction. She entered bars just to get swarmed in a sea of dancing bodies and disappear out the back door.

When all was said and done, it was about three in the morning when she allowed herself to slip into the backyard of her house and she almost had a heart attack when she found herself at the business end of one of Shinobu’s bodyguards’ pistol.

The young recruit apologized profusely upon realizing it was her and ushered her inside, warning her that Shinobu was not at all in a good mood before running back outside.

“Shinobu?” (Y/n) called out tentatively.

Now back at home, certain she hadn’t been followed or bugged, she felt exhausted.

She heard quick steps thudding against the carpet of the next room over and Shinobu came in like a charging bull.

“Where the fuck have you been? Quick meeting my ass, the sun has been down for hours!”

“Shinobu,” (Y/n) took Shinobu’s balled up fists in her hands, trying to hide the tremble in them, but of course Shinobu knew right away that something had happened and turned her hands over and held (Y/n) back.

“What, what is it?” She whispered hurriedly, matching (Y/n)’s volume.

“Shinobu, I found him.”

Shinobu froze. She needed no elaboration on who ‘he’ was.

(Y/n) sat her down and told her what had happened from the moment she met Daki to the moment she snuck into the back of their house.

Shinobu was deathly silent throughout (Y/n)’s story until she finished talking. She looked over the assassin, and pulled her steepled fingers away from her lips.

“Are you done?” She asked, voice low.

“Ye— ow!”

“What the fuck were you thinking?”Shinobu smacked (Y/n) again and would have gone for a third if (Y/n) hadn’t caught her wrist.

“He could have killed you!”

“But he didn’t and now we at least have a face to go with a name.”

“And now you are on his radar. Damn it, (Y/n) if I lose you too-“

“That’s not going to happen.”

“You don’t know that!”

(Y/n) pulled Shinobu into her arms, Shinobu hugged back, tugging at her shirt.

“We’re in this together just as before. Nothing has really changed. You have my back and I have yours. Whether he comes after us or we get to him first, it doesn’t matter. We’re gonna kill him, and then we’re gonna get married and not have to think about that bastard ever again.”

Shinobu breathed deeply and released a shaky exhale from her lungs, still holding the assassin as close as she could.

“He’s going to push harder now you know. I don’t imagine he’s the type to let an outsider of the cult see his face without some repercussions.” Shinobu murmured.

“He isn’t.” (Y/n) agreed. “But I think this is new territory for him. He just strayed from his system for the first time in who knows how long. He’s opening himself up to making mistakes. He’s just a man, he’s only human.”

Shinobu pulled back slightly to look her in the eyes. She stroked (Y/n)’s cheek and gave a smile that did not reach her eyes.

“I hope you’re right.”

***

The next few weeks were tense. Everything seemed to go on as normal but the couple knew better than to think they were in the clear.

The gang was put on high alert. Whether it was to search covertly for Douma’s location, providing protection for their boss and her bride to be, or making sure their investments and businesses kept running like a well-oiled machine, everyone was busy.

Shinobu would not let (Y/n) go out to take any jobs, worried that she would cross paths with Douma again. It was bad enough spending years with a bounty on her own head, but the thought of (Y/n) being in danger was unbearable.

She knew that (Y/n)’s profession had never been safe, of course she did, but Douma and his followers were not an average gang. It was a cult. They treated him like a god. Such devotion Shinobu was sure, was built on a foundation of fear rather than respect. And fear made people desperate, unpredictable. They would do anything, even if it was to their detriment, if they thought it would please him.

Shinobu felt like she was playing an intense game of Battleship. With all the information passing hands, she was sure it was only a matter of time before someone got a hit.

She closed her laptop, leaned back against the headboard of the bed and massaged her face in her hands. Beside her, (Y/n) slept. She looked down at her, smiling faintly.

They were meant to go to one of the warehouses tonight in the cover of darkness to deal with some complications, but Shinobu didn’t want to wake her since it had been hard for either of them to sleep well recently.

She pulled the blanket more snuggly over (Y/n)’s shoulders and quietly slipped out of bed. She left the safe house they had been moved to a week prior and she was flanked by guards as she entered the backseat of her car. Her guards filed in around her and they drove off of the property and down the dark, rural road.

The drive to the warehouse was uneventful. They rolled up to the building and the driver parked, turned the car off,

And was promptly shot in the head through the windshield.

The guard in the backseat with Shinobu pushed her down and took out his gun, shooting in the direction the bullet had come from while the guard in the passenger seat attempted to start the car up again so they could escape.

Unfortunately they were already surrounded, and before Shinobu knew it, she was being dragged out of the car, soaked in the blood of her people. She struggled against the hold fruitlessly until she was dropped unceremoniously to the ground in front of a pair of shiny black shoes.

The floodlights turned on with a loud mechanical twang and Shinobu’s jaw was tilted upward with a large, smooth hand. She was met with rainbow eyes and a sharp, sparkling smile.

Shinobu grit her teeth, blood boiling. So this was the man responsible for ordering the death of her sister.

“What a fire in your eyes,” Douma chuckled, turning Shinobu’s head in his hand until she yanked her head away. Douma giggled.

“I’ve been having others chasing after you for quite sometime. I’m flabbergasted by how easy this little operation of mine has gone. I guess that old saying is right. If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.” He said with delight, but then he pouted.

“But where is the assassin, your fiancée?”

“Go fuck yourself.” Shinobu hissed.

“So vulgar. Come on now, I don’t want to hurt her. She fascinates me in ways I have never felt. When my sources had found that she was engaged, and to you no less, it was not a good feeling.”

Douma motioned for his followers to bring Shinobu to her feet.

“I’ve waited for your head for years, I can wait a little longer to slice you open if it means (Y/n) will come to me… Ooo, hand that here, Gyutaro.”

Shinobu’s phone had fallen out of her pocket in the scuffle and the man Douma had addressed picked it up and tossed it to him.

“This is going to be so much fun.” Douma grinned.

***

(Y/n) awoke with a start and felt around the bed for her phone, frowning as she realized Shinobu was no longer resting with her. She managed to find the phone under her pillow and was bewildered to find that Shinobu was attempting to FaceTime her.

She sat up and turned on the lamp on the bedside table, then she accepted the call.

“There she is!”

(Y/n)’s blood ran cold and Douma kept talking.

“I understand why you turned me down now. Your impassiveness in the face of a man asking you to kill someone you are supposed to love… was that an act or did you truly feel nothing. I need to know.”

“Where is Shinobu?” (Y/n) seethed, gripping her phone tightly in her hand.

“Alive, for now. See for yourself!” Douma flipped the camera onto Shinobu, feet tied, hands behind her back presumably tied as well. She was splattered with blood, but (Y/n) didn’t think it was hers. She was roughed up, but alive just as Douma promised.

“Say hi, Kochou!” Douma waved cheerfully off camera.

“(Y/n), you stay far away from here, do you hear me?”

“What a rude thing to say!” Douma said aghast, flipping the camera back around, “I’m sorry, (Y/n). You’re fiancée has been so grumpy since we’ve met up. I’m sure she doesn’t mean it.”

His eyes looked cold as ice despite his easygoing expression.

“We’re waiting for you at the warehouse. I’m sure you know which one. If you want to keep her alive, get here within the next hour. We have a lot to discuss. Bye-bye!”

The call disconnected and (Y/n) launched out of bed to prepare her weapons. If Douma thought this was going to be some friendly little get together, he was dead wrong.

“Surround the place. Be discreet and for the love of god you better have them taken care of by the time I have to act or we’re all going to be dead.” She spoke hurriedly over the phone while she snapped a full magazine into a second handgun.

“It’ll be done. Good luck.”

“I’ll need it. Thanks Tomioka, consider your bill paid in full.” She hung up, strapped her weapons in, and ran to the garage. She threw her leg over the Ducati and turned the key. It wouldn’t be a quiet arrival, but she had wasted too much time already. She needed something fast and small to weave through any possible traffic.

She rocketed through the streets to the warehouse. Douma’s people took aim at her, but Douma held his hand up, motioning them not to shoot, but simply keep their guards up.

“What an entrance!” He clapped.

“Where is she?” (Y/n) tromped over in Douma’s direction, until she heard a couple guns get cocked by itchy trigger fingers.

“Inside with her little worker bees, safe and sound I assure you.” He grinned, “Come, come, let’s talk.”

“Anything you have to say, you can say it right here.”

“Why the rush? Didn’t you miss me? I thought we had a spark before.”

“You kidnapped my fiancée, killed good people and you’re holding more hostage. I’m not in the mood for pleasantries over tea.”

Douma blinked, then he looked behind him to a beautifully set table, then back at (Y/n) with a pout.

“But it’ll grow cold.”

(Y/n) took her time looking around. There were fourteen cultists milling about that she could see, checking the perimeter or watching her interaction with their leader, and standing outside the warehouse.

She could only imagine more were inside watching the hostages and she had planned on more hanging out in the surrounding woods. If things started popping off outside, she worried what orders the cultists inside might have been given.

“I’m cold. Bring it inside if you want to have tea with me so badly.” She snapped, nearly making Douma swoon.

He looked behind him and with a snap of his fingers, two of the people began moving the table inside. Then he gestured for (Y/n) to walk ahead.

Upon entering the warehouse her eyes scanned for Shinobu immediately and found her propped against the back wall. Their eyes met, and Shinobu looked furious as well as scared, but she did not speak up. Not wanting to escalate the situation.

The warehouse workers looked shaken, but otherwise fine. There were only five of Douma’s followers here including the two that brought in the table. A much more manageable number. Giyuu would still need time before he’d be ready to signal, but when he did, she was fairly confident that if she strategized her blows, she could kill the armed cultists before they could think to take aim at Shinobu or the workers.

She sat down in the seat that would allow her to keep an eye on Shinobu and the workers, but unfortunately that left her back facing the doors. It was a risk she was willing to take.

Douma sat across from her looking very pleased with himself and motioned for one of his followers to make his tea.

“How do you prefer yours?” He asked.

“It’s fine as is. Tell me what it is

you want from me.”

Douma sighed dreamily and rested his chin in his hand.

“I think I have a solution that everyone will favor.”

(Y/n) waited from him to continue. Subtly looking just passed his head to see Shinobu making use of the attention being off of her. She seemed to have found something to work at her bindings with. (Y/n) rolled her eyes at Douma, bringing her attention away from Shinobu so she wouldn’t be caught. Douma continued you talk, seemingly none the wiser.

“You stay by my side and work for me, and I’ll allow Miss Kochou to live against my own wishes and she may continue her work with ninety-five percent of her yearly profits reserved for me, but should you fail me,” he made a cutting motion over his neck and playfully stuck out his tongue, “I’ll make her death so much worse than a simple bullet through the brain like what her dear sister got.” He giggled.

“See, I can be reasonable.”

“And you think I’ll agree just like that?”

“I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t. I’m being very generous. I’ve never felt like this before. I’m breaking all my rules for you.” He said, sliding his hand across the table in an attempt to rest it on top of (Y/n)’s. Before he could, a thunderous bang of a gunshot rang from outside.

(Y/n) flipped the table and pulled a gun, firing it in rapid succession to kill the man beside Shinobu fumbling for his gun and the two walking amongst the kneeling warehouse workers.

She hissed as a bullet grazed her arm, dodging just before it could do any real damage. She rolled and took another shot at the remaining men covering their eerily calm boss. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Shinobu hacking away at the ropes on her ankles with a jagged piece of metal.

The doors were thrown open, but (Y/n) could see it was someone from Douma’s cult. She aimed for the fuse box, casting the warehouse in darkness, causing some of the warehouse workers to shriek.

She ran in the direction Shinobu had been in and whispered her name, searching.

“Here.” Shinobu whispered back.

(Y/n) reached her hand out and found Shinobu’s she squeezed it before sliding her gun into Shinobu’s hand and pulled out another.

“Are you okay? All untied?”

“Yeah, what’s the plan?”

“I hear ‘em!”

Bullets rained from the opening between the doors and (Y/n) used the light from the doorway to shoot at their silhouettes.

“Tomioka’s group is our backup. We have to hunt down Douma before he escapes.”

“Really, you called Tomioka?” Shinobu had the nerve to complain, shooting at another silhouette that was taking aim.

“I didn’t exactly have time to give everyone a courtesy call. Come on!” (Y/n) pulled on Shinobu’s free hand and stumbled through the dark building in the direction they had last seen Douma and his followers go.

They could hear footsteps clanging against metal steps overhead. Not wanting to waste any time, (Y/n) aimed above her head and took a shot, causing someone to yell. There was a scuffle and a body was thrown to the ground, making room for Douma and his remaining man to keep running.

(Y/n) and Shinobu kept following as best they could from the ground listening closely to the clattering feet above. As they continued further into the bowels of the warehouse, the steps above became more echoey and it made it harder to know which way to go.

Then the metal clangs stopped, causing Shinobu and (Y/n) to freeze.

Then there was a mechanical humming noise, a generator presumably. Row by row, the lights turned back on, causing the couple to shield their eyes from the sudden brightness.

“Peek-a-boo!” Douma sang, aiming a shot at Shinobu.

(Y/n) pushed Shinobu, both narrowly missing the bullets that came their way. They took shelter behind a couple concrete support beams.

“I think you’ve upset me, (Y/n), I really think you have.” Douma called peering down from the catwalk.

“I’ve been nothing but accommodating to you.”

“You’re delusional.” (Y/n) yelled back, tossing a fresh magazine to Shinobu.

“I’m going to have to retract my previous offer. I think Miss Shinobu will have an awful time now because of your obstinance.”

“Oh go fuck yourself!” Shinobu fired three shots, she clipped Douma’s follower in the side, but missed Douma completely. She quickly took cover before either of the men above could shoot her.

“Such a mouth! Was the rest of your family so tasteless?” Douma taunted.

Before Shinobu could do something more brash, a volley of bullets came from the direction of the main entrance.

There was a millisecond where (Y/n) thought that this was going to be the end, but then she heard Tomioka barking orders and a wave of relief washed over her.

Giyuu’s gang shot out the chains that held the catwalk, causing Douma and his follower to fall to the ground, not far enough to kill them, but they certainly had broken bones.

Someone shot the follower dead before he could lunge for his gun and (Y/n) shot twice, once to shoot Douma in the hand and again to blast the gun he had dropped away.

Giyuu signaled his group to hold fire as (Y/n) and Shinobu approached Douma together, guns aimed straight at his head.

Douma tried to move, but the fall must have done something to his back or pelvis, as he could do little more than raise his torso up on his elbows. Blood oozed from the top of his head, running down his face, but he kept a smile all the same, seemingly more fascinated by the state he was in than fearful.

“Am I… dying?” Douma chuckled disbelievingly, then it became a small coughing fit.

“Looks like it.” (Y/n) replied bluntly.

“How is this happening? I always get what I want… I’m a god.” He didn’t sound angry or indignant. Just mildly bewildered.

“You’re a man lower than dirt who did everything he could to stay hidden in shadow. Having your followers do all the dirty work.” Shinobu sneered, pressing the barrel of her gun to Douma’s forehead.

“I don’t know what went through your mind that made you think you were suddenly invincible after all this time, but I’m ever so glad for your hubris.”

Douma giggled, Shinobu dug the gun harder against his skull.

“You two,” he wheezed, his hazy eyes switching between Shinobu and (Y/n), “you two make me feel things I’ve never felt. I wish I had a name to put with this strange sensation. I’ve been chasing it since I met you, (Y/n). Perhaps one day, we’ll meet again in hell? Start fresh?”

“Shinobu, you can take your shot whenever you want, love.” (Y/n) said, ignoring Douma. “Unless you want to finish him some other way, but I’d be quick about it. He’s fading fast.”

“I’ve dreamed of this opportunity and I’ve probably imagined him dying a thousand different ways.” Shinobu muttered.

“But I’m tired. A nobody like him doesn’t deserve some grand, notable death. A quick bullet to the brain to avenge my dear sister. Then he shall be cremated and buried in an unmarked grave. Perhaps a scrapyard or a desert… somewhere desolate. I don’t want his ashes to dare nourish a single seed. I want no part of him feeding back into the cycle of life in any capacity.”

“Whatever you like my dear. I’ll see to it personally.” (Y/n) assured.

Douma took an intake of air, but Shinobu didn’t care to hear anymore of whatever he had to say. She took her shot, and it was over.

(Y/n) wrapped her good arm around Shinobu’s shoulders and placed a soft kiss against her hair. Shinobu leaned against her in turn, a shuttered exhale escaped her lips.

The Eternal Paradise Cult’s ‘God’ lay broken on the concrete, never to rise again.

***

That night had been a massacre. There was no way around that. Fortunately all of the warehouse workers survived, but the trauma they faced would undoubtedly follow them for possibly the rest of their lives. Shinobu gave them a dragons’ share of money for their ordeal, but she knew it would only go so far.

There was also the matter of the gang members she had lost. That had hit particularly hard. They were good people. She knew that the money she gave those families would never fill the whole that had been left, but it was all she had to give along with her sincerest apologies.

Then there were the cultists. Though they had followed Douma’s word, they were still human. Naïve, lonely humans with nowhere to turn. Shinobu commissioned a memorial to be built in place of the warehouse. It took a lot of research to find the names of all those that had been lost, but to Shinobu it had been worth it. It was purely for them. Douma’s name and visage were not included.

She had read a news clipping about the surviving cultists who had been left behind at the compound. Their feelings in the matter were… complicated. Shinobu could sympathize with that.

Then there was Douma himself. The authorities never found his body, obviously. He was cleaned up and discreetly cremated. Shinobu left the ashes to (Y/n) to take care of. She didn’t want to know where his ashes were as a final insult. All she needed to know was the he was a forgotten pile of dust in an unforgiving landscape and that would be good enough for her.

And as good a job as Shinobu and Giyuu’s gangs did cleaning things up and squaring things away, the authorities simply could not let a mass casualty event such as that go unchecked.

Tomioka managed to duck under the radar, but the remaining cultists made sure to drag Shinobu’s name through the mud. Again, she didn’t grudge them that, but it did make things a little difficult.

She liquidated what assets she could, giving what she couldn’t to her most trusted allies who she knew would carry on her mission, her sister’s dream.

And then she fled the country.

Shinobu took another sip of the refreshingly sweet cocktail she had purchased, sitting comfortably in a beach chair under the shade of a palm tree while she people watched.

She heard someone plop into the vacant chair beside her with a tired groan and she smiled, tilting her sunglasses to rest on the top of her head. She had been waiting for (Y/n) to make the flight to their new home all week.

“So where did you put him?”

“Oh you know, somewhere indistinguishable from the scorching sand I buried him under. Didn’t leave the urn. Wouldn’t even know how to find the spot again in a billion years.” (Y/n) shared with a yawn. “Ugh, this jetlag is killing me.”

“Aww, my poor baby.” Shinobu cooed, offering (Y/n) some of her drink. “Think you’ll be be better in time for the wedding or should we push it back a couple days?”

“What? No way, I’m tired of waiting.” (Y/n) stretched back against the chair, the scar on her arm poking out of the sleeve of her t-shirt. “I’m ready to be Mrs… whatever fake name we got saddled with.”

“Me too.” Shinobu hummed in agreement.

“It is nice here, don’t you think?”

“How would you know, you just got here and you can barely keep your eyes open.” Shinobu joked.

“Any place I get to be with you is nice.” (Y/n) yawned again, unable to keep her eyes open any longer.

“Aren’t you sweet.” Shinobu laughed. She watched (Y/n) sleep for a bit before turning her attention back to the surf, feeling as light as the foam rolling in on the waves.

#demon slayer oneshots #kny oneshots #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #shinobu kocho x reader #shinobu kochou x reader #shinobu x reader #shinobu kocho #shinobu kochou #requests #anonymous

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ashippingpotato · 3 months

Text

Short Klance fanfic

Lances pov

“Alright everyone” Allura’s voice comes from the coms “ we have landed on planet exsplareus. Feel free to explore, me and Caran have to attend meeting with the planet’s inhabitants but it will only take a few vargas (hours)”

I step up from my place on my bed. I was just about to try and get a nap in, sense I haven’t gotten enough sleep because of the nightmares I had been having for a few months. But I know that will almost be impossible because of the thoughts swirling in my mind. I get dressed in better clothes then my pj’s including my white and blue long sleeve my normal green jacket and some blue jeans. I walk out my door just to immediately step back before I can run into the Keith that’s walking past my door. (Yes I wrote it like that on purpose) He also stops in his tracks and looks at me before muttering a quick “watch were your going” And heading off. I can’t help admiring as his mullet bounces slightly, reflecting the castle lights.

I decided to not pay too much attention to it and keep on my way. (I don’t know much of the castle’s anatomy so I’m just going to start off when he stepped outside sorry) I slowly step into what can be considered the planet’s grass. It’s a light turquoise color. I bend down and slowly wave my hand in the unusually soft surface.

I set out on a slow walk taking in the planet for all its glory. As I walk further away from the castle I start to see a few dips that come up later in the land like hills. In the distance to my right I see a few tree like shapes coming out of the ground. Only a tad of a shade darker turquoise then the grass.

I suddenly stumble on a little rock. Just to see a hill taller than the rest of the ones that I have seen. I start to climb the noticeably steeper ground. As I start to get to the top of the small grassy mountain I start to see a flower like things, slightly blowing in the nice breeze.

As I reach the top of the hill, I get a better look at them. The stem is a normal earth stem green that slowly fades into a dark purple that almost completely covers the leaves. The actual flower part is a striking black and white stripe pattern,it kinda reminds me of the zebras on earth.

I sit down criss cross to examine the plant further when I hear a small yelp that stops my train of thought. It came from my left side, it was soft but just loud enough to hear it. I lean to the side to try to see where the small sound came from.

I look just a bit over the top of the hill to see an almost fox like creature. It had the body at a fox but instead of bright orange it was more on the red side. Its tail was made up of small feathers that have small yellow oval spots with a black center, And small rabbit like ears.

It looked like he also stumbled over a small rock, and was trying to regain its balance. When it stood up fully it looked me straight in the eye. It had big forest green eyes and if you looked into them long enough you could probably get lost. I just stayed still not really knowing what to do. As we stared at each other the softer its eyes became. It slowly got closer to me, more comfortable but still weary.

I simultaneously started to raise my hand to the creature. Right before I come in contact with the soft looking fur. It’s ear twitch, right after it does I start to hear footsteps, becoming louder and louder by the second. The creature then proceeds to run away. I lean back to my original spot, looking to my right I see a very recognizable messy black mullet.

I look down from the top of his head to his eyes, he in return sends me a piercing gaze. “Hey” I said quietly, not wanting to disturb anymore wild life. His gaze softens and he looks down at all of the unusually colored flowers that lay peacefully perched on the soft surface of the grass.

“Hi” he said softly, bending down to sit beside me. I look forward again “whatcha doing all the way over here” I asked I had figured he would be training like he always does. Maybe he came to check on me, I smiled at the thought. “Just taking a brake” he answered grimly, obviously upset about something. Any smile I had before now gone. I stared at the sky, this planet did not have an atmosphere that changes the color of the sky so it was all just darkness and stars.

Keith let out a shaky breath. “You ok” I asked the slightly shorter boy, concern dripping from my words. “Y-yeah” he answered, a little to quick for my liking. Suddenly a small subtle tear slips down his face. He quickly wipes it away with a red sleeve just for a few more to come out of the other eye.

He quickly turned to the right, hoping to hide the tears. I slowly reach my hand out to him, slightly jumping when he flinched away from the touch. I usually know how to handle sad people, but this was not just anyone this was Keith. The boy who didn’t know how to handle his feelings. The boy can easily take down six galra soldiers on his own with just a simple knife. The boy who makes my heart flutter every time, every time he yells at me, every time he fights, every time he gets too grumpy and stops out of the room. Every single time, no matter how much I try to stop it I just can’t and it’s killing me.

He starts to stand up but before he can start to walk away I grab his wrist. He looks back at me with the most devastating tear stained expression I have ever seen and it breaks my heart.

I stand up and take a few step towards him. I wipe away a stray tear that slipped past the walls protecting his heart. I slowly caress the scar on his right cheek. “I’m sorry” he says quietly ”for what?” I ask “everything” he answers simply. “Hey, hey, hey it’s ok ….. I forgave you a long time ago.”

I bend down, slowly dragging him with me. He does as shown and drops to the ground, still wiping some of the other tears. I open my arms wide inviting him into a warm hug. He hesitates at first but then starts to move into the touch.

“It’s ok to cry you know” I tell him trying to make him feel more comfortable. He nods slowly “c-can we s-stay here…. for a-awhile” he asked trying to make his voice stop shaking. “Yeah I would like that”

(A few Vargas (hours) later)

“Hey guys…….were are Lance and Keith?

THE END!!!!!!!

Let’s just say pidge went out to find them, she did indeed find them but before she woke them up she took pictures for blackmailing and of course to give to Allura because she is shipping master. And she (pidge) will never admit that she actually thought they were pretty cute together

Anyway sorry far any spelling and/or grammar mistakes (it is currently 1:57)

#klance #lgbtq+#scenery #hinting at klance #voltron #fanfics #fanfiction #klance fanfiction #voltron fanfic #voltron fandom #fluff #pidge #allura

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xoxiu · 11 months

Text

autumn outside the post office - jin x reader

chapter two table of contents masterlist

≪ how long will beautiful things last? ≫

summary: it wasn't your fault that dr. kim was the most beautiful man you've ever seen. falling for him was entirely your fault, however. first semester at college and you're already dreaming of a student/professor relationship- so naughty and against the code of conduct. you like the thrill, though.

tags/warnings: smut, teacher!jin, college au, cute yet forbidden romance, daddy dom!jin, love triangles, frat boys jungkook and taehyung, age regression, age play, ddlg, spanking, eating disorders, mental health, first love, exhibitionism, lots of blowjobs, age gap

"Very few classical Korean works have been translated and appreciated outside of Korean culture. I hope to change that with the class." Seokjin started his lecture, basing it on a PowerPoint he had created the night before. The students listened quietly, jotting down notes on their laptops or notebooks. The professor took note of this, reminding his pupils that they learn better by physically writing notes on paper.

You didn't need to be told this- your purple notebook had been opened right as class started. Your notes had been very organized, jotting down key points of the PowerPoint as well as Dr. Kim's lecture. In high school, your notes made you a star student often used as an example for others. You badly wanted to blurt that out to make Dr. Kim proud, but you managed to control yourself.

"Does anyone know a famous classical Korean writer?"

"Kim Shisup!" The blonde from the bus stop spoke up from the front row. Seokjin looked her way with a smile.

"Good job, Cara! Someone paid attention in history class." The professor gave the student a wink. You felt rage and jealousy fill your entire body. Glaring at the back of her head, you tried to make her explode with your brain. Sadly, it did not work.

This was only your second time in Seokjin's class. You barely knew the professor, yet you wanted all of his attention solely on you. Seeing him act friendly with other students made your blood boil. Your notes soon turned messy as you aggressively wrote.

"Classical Korean literature was written in Chinese, and dealt with themes surrounding loyalty."

Oh, you'd be loyal to Dr. Kim. You only had eyes for him, unlike Cara. Cara probably went after every male professor in the Asian Language department. It was so obvious she wanted him; you could see her flirtatious gaze on him from your seat. As the class went on, you caught on to the playful banter between Dr. Kim and Cara and began to worry that something was going on between them.

Class ended on time, with Dr. Kim giving a quick wrap-up. He timed his lecture perfectly, allowing for a quick summary right at the end of class.

"And my apologizes to you Korean majors, most of today probably felt like the information you already knew."

"It's fine. Having a refresher is never a bad thing!" Cara said as she stood up. She waved goodbye to Dr. Kim before leaving the classroom.

You sucked your teeth to avoid calling her any rude names. Frantically, you tried to think of a question to ask now that class was done. Everything today made sense to you, but you needed time to talk to Dr. Kim one-on-one.

"Dr. Kim, I have a question," you said, walking up to his desk. He smiled at you, turning to give you his full attention. Somehow you missed him eyeing up your outfit- a purple plaid skirt with a flowing ivory blouse. What you didn't miss was him licking his lips.

"Anything for you, miss y/n," His voice made you blush, almost forgetting what exactly you wanted to ask him.

"You mentioned that whiteness was seen as a symbol of purity in ancient Korea. Could you go deeper into that for me?"

He blinked at your request, looking rather shocked by your question. The smile soon returned to his face, happy to answer you.

"That's an excellent question, y/n. I may have brushed over that too much," He leaned back in his chair, preparing to give you his spiel. "White is a very important color in Korea even today. It represents the sun, harvest, origins, and the foundations of humanity. When Westerners came across Korea, one of the first things they noted was the white clothing Koreans wore.

"I'm sure you meant to imply a sort of racial bias with your question, which is okay, as pale skin has always been seen as a status symbol in Korea."

You nodded as he answered your question, sheepishly smiling as he picked up your hidden intentions.

"Pale skin seems to be a status symbol in many cultures back then. I know Greeks held paleness to a high degree as well." Seokjin smiled and laughed at your statement, happily clasping his hands together.

"You're such a smart girl, y/n. I'm sure you know how all this applies to present-day racial bias and supremacy, too." You blushed hard at the compliment and were about to excuse yourself when Dr. Kim spoke up again.

"If you have any more good questions, feel free to stop by my office hours. They're listed on the syllabus," he paused a second before continuing. "Or feel free to email me anytime. Although, I prefer you visit me instead. I get rather lonely."

—————

Despite being much larger, the dining hall was much quieter than the cafeteria in high school. Everyone spoke at a normal level, watched videos with headphones in, and didn't goof around with the food. It was a nice change in pace for you.

You grabbed a tray and began to walk to the various food bars, hoping to find something good. Dinner service had only started a couple of minutes ago, so none of the lines were too long. In the end, you decided to make yourself a salad and grabbed some baklava from the Greek bar. You sat in the far corner of the dining hall near the exit. Balancing your phone against the condiment basket, you turned your attention to Netflix as you ate.

A notification popped up on your screen- another email from Dr. Kim. You went to swipe it away only to see that it was directly addressed to you. Curiously, you picked up your phone to read the email.

'y/n,

I couldn't help but note your curiosity about foreign cultures. I'm very impressed. I'd like for you to join us at our next Korean Cultural meeting this Friday at 6 pm. I know you're not a Korean major, but I think you'll get something out of this club.

- Dr. Kim Seokjin'

You smiled at the idea of Dr. Kim thinking about you, even well after class had ended. Looking over the email again, you frowned as you realized you had a meeting at that time. The meeting wasn't exactly necessary- it was just a check-in for first-year students to see how the first week of classes had gone. But at the same time, you weren't sure if the club was meant for you. You weren't Korean and had no cultural experience in that area. You only took Korean Literature because you needed a foreign literature credit. Not wanting to fully commit just yet, you didn't reply to the email.

Leaving the dining hall, you made your way up to your dorm room. Jennie was already back, diligently working on homework at her desk.

"I don't know why I have so much homework during the first week of classes. It's- oh! You look happy!" Jennie's frustrations faded as she noticed the large smile on your face. "Is it a boy?"

"Maybe," you teased, sitting down at your desk. You opened up your laptop to work on the chemistry homework you have due tomorrow, but your mind kept wandering to Dr. Kim.

"Wow, you must really like this guy," Jennie jokingly elbowed you with a smug smile. "That grin is just getting bigger and bigger."

You opened up the class page for Korean Literature, checking to see when Dr. Kim's office hours were. They were Tuesdays and Thursdays, 1 pm to 3 pm. Perfect, you thought, your chemistry class ended fifteen minutes before the start of his hours. You grew more giddy as you realized you were able to see him tomorrow.

Chemistry homework in college was much harder than chemistry homework in high school, you quickly learned. The questions were so confusing and the diagrams were borderline unreadable. It all made your head hurt.

A knock at your door drew both you and Jennie out of your intense concentration. Taking off your headphones, you went to go see who was at the door. Jimin, your RA, smiled at you.

"Hi, y/n! Hi Jennie!" He leaned in to wave at Jennie, who politely waved back. "I'm just letting you know there will be a hall meeting in the kitchenette in five minutes."

"We'll just head on down now, I guess," Jennie said, closing her laptop and walking out the door with you. Jimin continued knocking on doors, letting the other residents of the hall know about the meeting while you and Jennie got comfortable in the beanbags in the corner of the kitchenette.

Ten minutes had passed, and no one besides Jimin, you, and Jennie sat in the kitchenette. Jimin looked very displeased, looking down at his plate of brownies with a frown. He baked them for the residents at the meeting, expecting a room full of twenty students. Instead, the meeting turned into small talk between the three of you.

"Well, this sucks. I guess you two can have the brownies if you'd like."

#bts fanfic #seokjin x reader #kim seokjin #teacher/student #bts smut #college au #kim namjoon #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #bts #autumn outside the post office

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kissagii · 2 years

Note

Hi hi hi!

Congrats on 100 followers!! \(ϋ)/♩ Your stuff is so comforting to read istg- You totally deserve it.

So, for your event, I'd like to ask you for summer + cherry tree and I really liked how you wrote Kuroo, so I'll go with him.

ahhh tysm!! i was a little worried about this prompt combo but honestly it's really cute haha

kuroo + summer (strangers to lovers) + cherry (place you first met)

warnings: none it's just pure fluff <3

There was a back corner of the local library that you had informally claimed as your own. You were there almost every day, occasionally accompanied by friends or classmates, and every time the table was blissfully unoccupied.

Until, of course, it wasn't. A quick snack run meant you were fifteen minutes later than usual, and when you went to find your favorite little table, you found a somewhat familiar person sitting in the chair you always used. Though you couldn't remember his name, you knew roughly who he was - the guy from physics who sat in the very front seat and answered the teacher's questions without fail. Someone who, you realized, might be a valuable study partner.

"Can I sit here?" You asked quietly, pulling out the chair opposite his.

"Oh, sure," He says, looking up to see who decided to join him. At the sight of you he was awestruck, staring in silence as you sat down and began to arrange your things on the table.

"You alright?" You whisper, looking at him with concern.

"Yeah, just... you look familiar but I guess I've forgotten where I saw you," The young man grinned awkwardly, silently cursing himself for staring, especially at someone he had just met.

"I'm Y/n, from your physics class. I know you sit in the front table, but I can't remember your name for the life of me."

"Kuroo. And speaking of physics, can I see what your lab data looks like? I think we botched ours," The black-haired boy, Kuroo, turned his laptop to show you the various graphs from the experiment you did that morning. And, from what you could tell, it was very botched.

You spent the next hour and a half working through the lab report together. Mostly you had to selectively choose data points to make the graphs look less insane, the product of cheap motion sensors that couldn't make nice data if they tried. You quickly learned that he wasn't only smart, but friendly, and completely willing to poke fun at his own mistakes.

"And that's the last of it," You say with a sigh, typing out the last few words on your conclusion.

"Thanks for the help, you probably just saved my ass," Kuroo said with a quiet laugh.

"Say, would you want to study together again? I'm here about every day if you ever want to work through a few problems together," You placed the offer out casually, though secretly you were a bit desperate to spend more time with your classmate.

"I can do you one better - let's go get coffee on Friday. No botched physics labs, no math problems, just you and me," He shot you a cocky smirk, passing you a folded-up piece of paper as he stood up and slung his messenger bag over his shoulder.

"Yeah, that sounds... amazing," You felt a flush in your cheeks. Did he seriously just ask you out? A quick peek inside the yellow note confirmed your suspicion, the handwriting beautifully messy.

Are you C12H22O11? Because you seem pretty sweet to me.

Call me somtime : (xxx)-xxx-xxxx

Friday couldn't come soon enough.

kuroo 100% uses dumb chemistry pickup lines and you can't convince me otherwise

#{🍄 - mushrooms}#{🐾 - explorations}#kuroo x reader #kuroo #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo testuro #kuroo x gn reader #kuroo x gender neutral reader #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo tetsuro x male reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#haikyuu kuroo #haikyuu kuroo x reader

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toburnup · 1 year

Note

okay i LOVED learning those most recent tidbits about your writing process, especially approx how long it can take you to write/edit! makes me feel so much better about my own wips lmao. especially with something as complex as iylo. i think it’s the easy-going kinda flow or vibe of your writing (though dgmw, you know how to make every line pack a serious punch) that made me assume you tend to bang this shit out hella quick… when in reality it sounds like it takes a pretty reasonable (“reasonable”) amt of time.

on this note i am so curious about your drafting process. like, how do you not get caught up fleshing out all the details in the moment? am i just terrible at writing outlines? feels like i’m always setting a hard goal to write short standalones but they always get out of hand

hahahah oh good, i'm glad it was interesting!!! i'd say my writing style on here is very casual, so. i like that that's the vibe i give off 😌

!! the drafting process! it's messy but it usually goes something like this (long post ahead!)

i start by writing dialogue or a specific moment from the scene i'm most excited to get to. i don't force myself to start at the beginning because who even knows where the beginning is.

dialogue can be a good place to start because it can lay out a whole dynamic in just a few exchanges (the best example i can think of this is when i wrote thirty days, because the first part i wrote was the "you should probably leave" - "why?" - "'cause i'm going to jerk off" - "i don't want to go" - "fine. stay." exchange which set up the whooole fic)

....and then i keep writing until i run out of steam lol. if i'm writing a scene and need to jump ahead because of an idea or whatnot, i just type // so i know i need to come back there (easy to search the doc for a symbol of some kind when it comes to editing). can't think of a specific word? i just pop a // in there as a placeholder.

once i've written out the meatier bit (ugh), i go back to the scene i started with, and then write backwards from there until i find a spot that feels like it could be the beginning (i mean i say that, but this is usually a lot of jumping around).

and that's the first draft!

i don't outline ahead of time, or write out plot points or anything. mostly because a) i have no idea what's gonna happen and b) i like character-driven stories and i find those motivations by writing them

that's the big reason i write dialogue without an end goal in mind - sometimes writing the lines or hearing them in my head takes the conversation in a different direction than i would've originally planned, and that can lead to some Good Moments

i’m always setting a hard goal to write short standalones but they always get out of hand

this happens to me too, for sure. i've found it's helpful to move away from the setup portions of a fic. and also being okay with things not being 100% clear (in terms of motivation, characters feelings, all that) and leaving some gaps for the reader to fill. and also being okay with your writing being misinterpreted.

idk if this is helpful at all!! my main thing is don't stop yourself from fleshing out the details. if there's a big scene you want to get to, don't force yourself to slog through the parts you don't want to write just to get there. i find it's almost easier to do it that way, because then you get to write the earlier parts with the question of: "what choices do they make to become the people in that scene?"

don't deprive yourself!! if you want to delve right into the details, do it.

#on writing #vio answers #phoeniceae #several tangents were taken lol

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grousebrood · 6 months

Text

wip wednesday

tagged by @optiwashere, i honestly don't really know anyone else on here but if you're one of the four people who follow me you can consider this a tag!

the first real fic i ever tried writing was far too big of a bite for me to chew, and i wrote about 90% of it and haven't touched it since. at this point i'm not sure i'll ever actually finish it, but it was actually weirdly very instrumental in me learning and understanding some very fundamental things about myself post/mid-transition. so even if it's never done it'll probably always be kind of important to me.

anyway my writing process is very messy and modular so there are very few sections that don't have weird little gaps. so i tried to put together a coherent little thing from it to post — not the explicit smut parts tho, bc i'm still too embarrassed to post here haha.

starring drow paladin of selune and shadowheart mid-Act 2, so vague SPOILERS ACT 2 ahead. important context is also that i wrote this mid-Act 2, so it very well may be a complete mess canonically but whaddya gonna do. starts mid fic.

CW: whipping, blood, hurt but we don't get to the comfort, sadomasochism (?), penis referenced

(sincere and deep apologies if i missed something, i'm new to this so idk all of em, but if something you'd like to avoid is adjacent to the above concepts it's probably better to just skip this!)

_______________

"Go forth and sow doubt, but do not compel it — only the willing may know the Lady’s embrace."

_______________

Still, the horrific, repulsive display festered within Helena. She had tried to push the images from her thoughts but they twisted their way inside. The rending of flesh. The grotesque cruelty of the wretched and inhuman dogma.

Most of what she felt was a revolted nausea, her weathered soul recoiling at having witnessed the unholy mania.

However, something flickered deep within her. It drew her close and quickened her heart.

The mindless rapture. The oblivion. The end to all her aching hope.

Loss.

Helena was infuriated by the thought. Shar’s embrace was a vile parasite that tormented the weak, and she was not weak. She steadied her mind, slowed her heart. Eyes closed, focusing, she uttered a soft prayer. The words offered a small balm, and her doubts and fears briefly scuttled to parts unknown as thoughts of something not too dissimilar flooded into the cavity the disturbing temptation had left behind.

Rolling to her side, she gazed at the fading fire, and, beyond it, Shadowheart’s sleeping form. The deep, soft breaths of her slumber soothed Helena as she watched her chest slowly rise and fall.

Since they’d begun traveling together, Helena and Shadowheart had been poking and prodding one another about their respective, incompatible faiths. And yet despite all this, or maybe even because of it, they had grown closer. They both understood the depths of devotion. What it meant. What it takes from you, what it gives in return.

But even more, they came to understand each other, sharing things about themselves perhaps no other person had ever heard. Their memories, no matter how filamentous. Their thoughts, their fears. Their doubts.

As they and the others traveled across [Faerun] together, desperately seeking a way to save all their lives, Helena pieced together the fragments of Shadowheart’s story within her heart and found herself increasingly drawn to the half-elf. After they shared a kiss in the small hours of the morning, just before the goblins had assaulted the Emerald Grove, Helena had even begun to naively wonder about what kind of a future a cleric of Shar and paladin of Selune could share.

------time jump-----

"If you were capable of feeling even an ounce of what I’ve felt, what I’ve been feeling, you wouldn’t be so quick to recite your ignorant drivel. I thought I might come here to offer you some comfort to help you sleep, but you clearly have little intention of letting me be close to you.” Shadowheart got to her feet, turning to leave.

Even as the words stung her, a delirious thought slipped into Helena’s mind, small at first, then all-consuming.

What better way to prove her worth to her Moonmaiden, her dedication to her righteous calling than to walk through the darkest corridors of the soul and come out the other side more devoted than ever? Yes, she would allow her blasphemous feelings to flourish — only to lull them into a false sense of security so they could be exterminated with a holy beam of radiant light.

She would be stripped bare, clean and naked, and then moon’s love would once again envelop her, the proudest daughter of Selune.

“Show me,” she said quietly.

Shadowheart, mid-exit, became still. She turned back to look at the drow sitting in the dark, almost invisible if not for her pale white hair.

“Excuse me?”

“I want you to show me,” Helena said, rising to her feet as anger and panic roiled inside her. “Prove your point. Make me feel Shar’s truth. She’d love it if you were to turn me, no? You’ve said so yourself. Imagine it. The woman who recovered the githyanki artifact, succeeding where all others failed, and on top of that, serving her Lady a new cleric of Loss. She would have no choice but to elevate such a loyal and powerful servant.”

“That’s nonsensical,” Shadowheart said, standing still as Helena came close enough that she could feel the heat of her body in the cold night. Helena reached a hand up to cup the side of Shadowheart’s cheek. The same way she held her the night they kissed.

“Unless you haven’t really believed anything you’ve said since I met you.”

Shadowheart’s eyes sparked with darkness as her hand shot up to grab Helena’s wrist and she abruptly pushed forward, catching her off guard and off-balance. Shadowheart’s grip secure on her arm, Helena stumbled backward, lightly tripping over the rocks and roots of the forgotten homestead’s pathways. Carried by the momentum of their bodies, Helena slammed hard into the aged wood of the shack as her breath left her chest.

The two holy warriors pressed into each other against the wall as Shadowheart held Helena in place, her quarry struggling to suck in air after the impact, incapable of doing anything much at all despite being the stronger woman.

“How dare you question my commitment to Lady Shar?” Shadowheart said venomously. “After all I’ve been through — all you’ve seen?”

“By your own admission I know nothing of the true worth of your Mistress of the Night,” Helena said, petulant, catching her breath and ignoring the wrenching lurch in her stomach as she felt Shadowheart push against her. “But from what I see it doesn’t seem like you know much more than a few silly phrases and petty excuses, pounded into your head by years of obedient listening. So show me, if you’re so devout.”

Shadowheart’s anger flared and her grip tightened on Helena. She pondered for a moment, resolve hardening as she, too, tried to ignore a wellspring of warmth that had begun to flow through her body.

“Inside,” she finally hissed.

-----------time jump-----------

“Fuck you.”

Helena’s vision blurred as the room warped and spun around her. She again felt Shadowheart’s breath on her ear, though she struggled to listen. The sharp pain from her back extended outward, throbbing, as a hot pressure began to build in her body. The chair, already uncomfortable, seemed to become even smaller as she buckled over in agony, feeling something begin to press against her abdomen. Was that… Was she…?

Was she getting hard?

Another lash of the whip. Helena jerked in pain and fell to the side, crashing to the floor, tears and spit dripping from her face as she concentrated on regaining some composure.

Shadowheart crouched in front of Helena, using the whip’s grip first to lift the blindfold and then to tilt her chin upward, forcing her to focus on her tormentor’s face. The face of a woman she had thought she might love, whose unexpected softness had sustained Helena even as she thought her trials might break her.

Now, however, it seemed cruel and hard, Shadowheart’s preternatural derision directed entirely on her and her pathetic, drooling failure to understand the Sharran’s faith. Even still, as the pain continued to throb within her, so did her building animal lust, lust that made her feel all the more ashamed. Not only had she failed to prove herself, but she was hopelessly enthralled to this woman, desperate for more and yet physically unable to withstand it.

“Shall I stop?”

The flame was a fading ember. She stared into Shadowheart’s eyes, hoping to see a flicker of concern that showed that the cleric still cared for her. Helena saw none, and the hope died — but seemingly with it so too did her need to either please her companion or preserve herself. Spite boiled in her throat.

No.

She would not fail.

She could not let the smug Sharran win. Helena spat.

“Keep going.”

----------------------------

and there ya have it

#bg3 spoilers #wip #bg3 fanfiction #oc: helena fiddlefitz #idk how else to tag

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full-moon-ships · 3 months

Text

Ship: Coyote/Graves

Word count: 1,076

Summary: Graves & Coyote must go undercover for a mission

Notes: behold, the reason i had to change Coyote/Hellhound's lore! This is during their MARSOC / Raiders days and is probably chock full of military inaccuracies but I wrote this with a migrane so. Also this is JanAUary day 2!!!

Taglist: @mashyaoi, @legoes

Coyote looked over at Graves in the seat next to him. He was shuffling about and pulling at his collar, clearly uncomfortable. Coyote reaches out and places a hand on his leg, steadying him.

"You good, man? You've been squirming for nearly the whole ride."

Graves takes a breath, "Yeah, just a little nervous about the op."

Coyote smiles, "What's there to be nervous about? I'm right here with you."

He scoffs, "Yeah, but we're going in blind with no backup."

"Hey, at least we know what we're after, right?"

Graves mumbles something and Coyote drops the subject. As long as neither of them fuck up horrendously, they'll be fine. And, of course, as long as Markus is able to get them out of there. Speaking of, Coyote turns to the other man sitting at the wheel of the limo, "You okay? I worry about you too, y'know."

Markus chuckles, "I'll be fine. It's you two that we'll have to worry about."

"That's real comforting."

As the limousine pulls up to the gated mansion, they're stopped and asked for their names.

"Jaime and Calvin Logan, we should be on the list," Graves says with practiced charm, Markus repeating this back to the man. Their names are promptly scratched off, and they're let through the gate. Markus stops at the front entrance to the mansion and gives them a small knod.

"I'll be waiting for you, sirs," he says.

"You better," Coyote grumbles. Graves slides out of his seat, climbing out the vehicle and offering his hand to Coyote. He graciously takes it, following the other man out and clinging onto his arm as they walk into the event.

Their mission was simple, find their information and get out. The only problem was where that information was stored, a hidden safe in the host of the party's home office. They'd have to figure out how to get in there and get out without having to cause a fuss. Simple on paper, difficult in execution.

They entered the party and proceeded to schmooze as best as possible, slowly making their way around the room, taking turns introducing themselves, ("We're the Logans, nice to meet you. Yes, we're married, 7 years in fact. How do you know the host?").

They'd made a full circle of the room before they found the aforementioned host, Valery Novák. Graves proudly saunters up to him, Coyote dangling to his arm, and smiles, "Valery! It's so good to see you, old friend."

Valery smiles crookedly, "Ah, remind me of your name?"

"Calvin, Calvin Logan? From, ah, that messy time with those Marines? Helped you outta that mess, 'rember?"

He smiles, "Ah! Calvin, yes, how could I forget such a friendly face. What have you been up to?"

"Well, Jaime and I got married," he says, gesturing to Coyote.

"Jaime! So great to finally meet you, I've heard so many things about you."

"All good things, I hope," Coyote says. The three share a quick laugh, before Graves clears his throat.

"Now, Valery, could we, ah, go somewhere a little more private? I'd like to... talk business, as it were."

"Of course, my friend. Right this way." He gestures for the two to follow him, leading them up the stairway and down the corridor to his personal office. The plan was going terrific.

Once inside the room, Valery closes the door and walks over to the small drink cart in the corner of the room, and tells the two to take a seat on the couch in the other corner. They take a seat, Coyote leaning into the shoulder of his companion.

"Now, Calvin," Valery says, rummaging around, "I do recognize you from the time with the Marines, yes. Only one problem."

"And what's that?"

Valery turns and reveals his gun, "You were one of the Marines." He takes a shot and just barely misses Graves, who'd ducked out of the way just in time.

"I told you that was a shit cover story!" Coyote yells, drawing his weapon and firing, hitting Valery in the leg. Valery cries out in pain, falling to the ground and dropping his piece in the process. Graves draws his own and finishes the job. He proceeds to root around and, rather quickly just as loud footsteps start coming down the hall. Eyes darting around, he finds a closet and drags Coyote in.

It's cramped in the dark closet, the two chest to chest, Graves' head turned to face the door of the closet as he crowds Coyote against the wall. This close, he could feel the other's breath against his neck, which stirred something strange in his stomach.

From Coyote's vantage point, all he could look at were his friend's lips. He stared and stared. He was overcome with a familiar feeling, one of want, of need. He'd felt this many a time around his friend, and the close space wasn't helping with his feelings.

"Graves?" He whispered

"What? There are men out there, about to come into the room, so make it quick."

Coyote pauses before shaking his head, "Never mind then. Some other time."

The men enter the room and do a search, finding the body of Valery. They radioed in the situation and promptly left the room, probably to round up more men. Coyote really wasn't bothered with what was going on, just the way Graves looked in the low light.

Carefully, he opens the door to the closet and steps out, pulling a distracted Coyote out with him.

"We've gotta get out of here."

Coyote swallows his first breath in minutes, "Yeah, no shit, but how?"

Graves slowly turns to the window and smiles back at Coyote.

The fall from the second floor is barely cushioned by the neatly trimmed hedges. They quickly pull themselves up and rush to the limousine, sliding in and startling Markus awake.

"STEP ON IT!" They both yell. Markus floors it out of the place, barely stopping for the gate to open.

"Mission go that good, huh?"

"Yup," Coyote sighs.

"Did you at least get the intel?"

Graves groans and pulls the file out from his coat, "Right here."

"Good. At least it wasn't a total bust."

As they drive off, the two in the back seat both look back on the night's events, each in their own light. Graves wonders why he felt some type away with Coyote so close to him, and Coyote wonders why he still feels something after so long.

#rowan rambles #my writing #janauary #🪦Explosive love🪦 [graves]#👥coyote

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vole-mon-amour · 1 year

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IWTV, 1x05, part 2.

I love him. Good for him (probably not, but yeah, go off).

"A quick stop home to do laundry before you fuck off for good." <3

And Lestat wasn't even lying. They fucking are. Even Armand in the book. "Oh, I've given you some time and some space from those who want to hurt you and your child, but I want peace, I don't want to be your leader. I want to be with you, but I don't want to protect you and the kid you love so much. She can die <3" Get fucked.

Baby boy. Baby. Never did a single bad thing in his entire life.

We? WE??? As if it was Lestat who saved her from the fire. As if it was Lestat who begged himself to turn her in. Lestat deserved fucking better.

The only way I'm willing to take it is Claudia being in love with Louis and wanting Louis for herself, wanting to be with him. Louis loving her more than Lestat or at least choosing her (because even in the book he didn't want her to kill him & tried to save him, as much as he could. But still obeyed to Claudia's command to stay away as Lestat was being poisoned. I'm sad.)

I'm torn between loving Claudia/Louis & protecting Lestat. I understand how Sam was protective over Lestat. "You didn't want to go to party & I stayed with you." He really did, when it should have been way better to break up a long time ago. Genuinely wondering what kind of hard was done to him that he was running from Europe and all those vampires. It's like they hated him already when they heard Louis' accent, "Who created you? I know that accent. Talk again." Oh boy. I wasn't sure if I wanted to continue with the books, but now I want to know everything about Lestat. I... don't enjoy much how the books are written and how long they are, but He. Him.

I guess that's where it leads when you REALLY don't like kids. Oh Lestat. :(

"It was never you."

Yeah... He's so powerful, wow. I'm not sure if Lestat from the book had this much control over himself. There were way more insult, I feel like. But his strength? His actual physical power? "I fought myself a million times. Controlled my nature. Controlled my temper. I never once harmed you." Wow.

:( Why did you choose a person that didn't love you in the first place? Why did you stay for so long? I hear you, desperate love. Pining. But isn't there someone, anyone, who would love you back just as much? And want to share this love and life with you? Surely Louis isn't the one.

They both deserve better. Deserved better from the start. IDK how I'm going to get back to the book just like that. Give me Lestat. All of his trauma and hate and every single detail about him.

I really like his power. I really do. It's nice seeing him like that for a change. He is so much better than this sulking version of him, waiting for Louis, for Claudia. He can (and is!) be so powerful. I hope we get to see it in s2 way more.

The dude that wrote in the tag about something like "We can be messy" & "it's a horror show" doesn't know what real horror is. I mean, yeah, some glimpse of it is there, maybe. And I'm sure general audience does consider this a horror. Dragging Louis by the throat was pretty brutal. And yet.

This was probably one of the best, if not THE best episode in the series yet. I like that side of Lestat. I like how much they showed (and now even in the first half, the second half, with angry Lestat and less of Claudia in the family, was great).

I don't think I ever shipped Louis & Lestat, maybe a bit in the movie. Never in the show. Seeing all this, the entire episode? I'm here for Lestat only. And if they manage to portray what Louis and Claudia had in the books (they are already failing), maybe I'll enjoy that, too. But again, they are showing a different story to what is in the first book. They threw all of them in there, set it on fire, and now are dancing around it.

Agreed. It's still messed up how in the book it was Lestat who made her, who trapped Louis into making her, didn't let him kill her. But in here? Oooh, you really make me love Lestat.

#natiswatching #iwtv 2022

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jeanslilslut · 2 years

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4.20AM

! ! ! MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI ! ! !

#︙pairings: stoner!eren x reader

#︙cw: smut, car sex, drug use, getting high, alcohol, breeding, weed, fingering, driving under the influence, blowjob, fem!bodied, slight overstimulation, dirty talk

#︙word count: 7k, ik wtf is that

☻ reblogs are appreciated ☻

in which stoner!eren takes you on a late night drive to celebrate 4 / 20.

i wrote this for the lovely @sweetforlevi 4/20 collab and honestly i loved this idea. me and this fic have a love hate relationship and at one point i was convinced it was never gonna get written but here we are <3 a big thank you to peach for letting me join her collab and a big thank you to @bokutosdove for supporting me and helping me out with this fic. luv you 5ever bitch <3

smut under the cut, enjoy my lovelies ;)

This has become quite a regular thing; Eren picks you up at an ungodly hour and he drives you both to the beach, always parking where the best view is so you two can light up, share blunts, and get high as you watch the sunrise. It doesn’t sound like much, but it’s these nights that you look forward to the most.

It’s one of those nights tonight.

You’re in bed, the fan blaring above you. The month of April has brought along a heat wave and you couldn’t feel more uncomfortable. You’re tossing and turning against the thin sheets that stick to your skin, fighting your inability to sleep. These warm days always end in hot sticky nights; they’re always the worst. You can feel the sheen of sweat that covers you, making you feel icky, the fan doing little to ease your heated skin.

For what feels like the hundredth time, you glance at the alarm clock next to you and watch as it turns from 1:43 to 1:44. Thank fuck it’s Friday; you’re not in the mood to get up in the next 4 hours and get ready for college, running on an hour or two of sleep. Your sleep schedule is already fucked as it is and you’re planning to use this weekend to catch up. And that’s when you hear the ping from your phone — it lights up with Eren’s text, illuminating the small corner of your room.

Happy 4/20, you gonna celebrate with me?

What a stupid question.

Did he really think you’d be awake? Of course he knows you are. He’s the one who has fucked up your sleep schedule by taking you on these late night spliff sessions.

You’re almost grateful for Eren’s invitation. Truthfully, you’re willing to make any excuse to escape this uncomfortable and stuffy room. Your reply comes out fast, and you hope it doesn’t look desperate.

I’m down, you picking me up?

It takes him a little longer to reply; he’s probably getting his shit ready, stuffing his pockets full of wraps and little weed baggies. You wouldn’t be surprised if he forgets to bring a lighter. You could count on both hands all the times Eren invited you to one of these sessions but forgot to bring one. The last time the both of you were about to light up, his lighter broke and he didn’t bring a spare. You better remind him, because he’s definitely smoked a blunt already, and his memory is not the best when he’s high.

Make sure you bring two lighters. Don’t want one to run out now, do we? That would just be embarrassing.

And you can’t help the small pang of excitement when you see the little bubble of dots that let you know he’s typing.

Haha fuck you. I’ll let you know when I’m here.

You smirk at his response. Dumbass would have totally forgotten.

So you start to get ready, taking off your pyjamas and putting on a pair of shorts and a hoodie, stopping to look at yourself in the mirror.

You take in your appearance. If someone couldn’t already tell by the dark circles around your eyes, your messy hair definitely gives away your struggle to fall asleep. You think about taking a quick shower to freshen up a bit before you head out, but then again, it’s only Eren. He’s seen you worse than this.

Your fingers run over your outfit: an old hoodie that has a few holes in it and a pair of shorts that you can’t even remember buying. It is still warm outside and you think about swapping your hoodie for a t-shirt, but you’re usually out for a couple hours and that’s when it starts to cool down and become a little chilly. Before you can even decide, you hear Eren’s car pull up outside.

The honk sends you flying down the stairs and you almost trip over yourself. You can’t stop how giddy you feel, and you know there’s a big stupid grin on your face. Still, you can’t find it in yourself to care.

Just before you open the door, you check yourself over one more time — keys, wallet, phone, lighter. Just in case. With your shoes barely on, you lock the door behind you and rush down the front yard. The cool air of the evening feels wonderful, and you welcome it as it hits your flushed skin. You feel it wash over you and you’re suddenly glad you decided on the hoodie, because you can already feel the goosebumps spreading across your bare legs.

You can see the outline of Eren's profile through the driver's window and you almost gasp. His hair is pulled haphazardly to the back of his head, the loose strands of hair too short to frame his dark face. The light from street lights does a good job at illuminating his strong jaw, and you wonder if it really is just the cold air causing the goosebumps.

You hope the redness in your cheeks disappears before you get in the car. Eren would definitely make fun of you if he noticed.

“Hey.”

He leans forward and grabs the coat that lays across the passenger seat, throwing it into the back before you hop in. “Hey. Merry 4/20 or whatever. You ready to celebrate my favourite holiday of the year?”

His speech comes out a little slurred; if you couldn’t already tell by the overwhelming sweet smell in the car, he’s already high, or at least on the verge. You wonder what your parents would think if they saw you now, in the passenger seat of the campus stoner's car on the way to smoke blunts and drink cheap alcohol. What they don’t know won’t kill them, right?

“It’s not a holiday, Eren. Stop looking for an excuse to smoke.”

You’ve known Eren for quite some time now. You were in the same biology class in high school and now you're both going to the same college. He had come up to you in the library when you were sitting behind your laptop, a pile of textbooks scattered on the desk as you studied for a chemistry paper. It was nothing too major, but you always get stressed and frantic two weeks before any exam. Eren must have noticed this, because he offered some friendly advice — a coping mechanism, if you will.

One thing led to another, and then suddenly you were in his dorm room, a bong in one hand and a lighter in the other. You started visiting him more and more, staying for longer and longer, to the point where you’d have to put your clothes through the washer twice just to get rid of the obvious scent of weed. Yeah, you failed that chem exam two weeks later. But we mustn’t dwell on these things. Life goes on.

“Hey, I’m being good. I decided I’m only gonna smoke on holidays.” What a liar. You would bet everything in your bank account that he wouldn’t last long.

“Eren, if you only smoked on holidays, then that’s means every fucking day is a holiday.” He reaches in between the two of you and turns up the music.

“Yeah, and if I was president, I’d make every day a fucking holiday.” You could only imagine the state America would be in if he was president. At least weed would be legal; that would be his first order of business no doubt.

“Well it’s good you’re not president then, isn’t it?”

He chuckles next to you, taking one hand off the wheel to pass you a little box, nudging it into your shoulder.

“Shut up and open your gift.”

With a confused look on your face, you take it. It’s long but small, and wrapped up in a ribbon which he’s tied into a little bow on the top.

“What is this?” He’s smiling like a toddler.

“If I was gonna tell you then I wouldn’t of fucking wrapped it up now would I? Open it.”

And so you pull at the little bow, the ribbon easily sliding off the box. You lift the lid and inside is a messily rolled up blunt laying nicely on a mini velvet cushion. You roll your eyes.

“Did you really just gift wrap a blunt?”

He looks at you, eyes flitting between you and the box. “Wow, not even a thank you? If you’re that ungrateful then I’ll have it back.” He reaches over to the passenger seat to swipe the blunt from your fingers, but you’re quicker.

“Gotta be quicker than that, loser.” He feigns hurt before returning his attention back to the road.

“I blame it on the weed, makes my reactions a little slow.”

“Don’t tell me that when you’re driving a fucking car,” you exclaimed.

“Hey, out of all the times I’ve driven high, I have never crashed.” Well that’s just a lie. Did he forget that you were in the car with him when he crashed into the back of the car in front of you? Your mom wasn't too happy about that, but you're an adult now; she can’t exactly stop you from seeing him.

“Oh really? What about that time you literally drove into the back of some dude's car who then wanted to beat the shit outta you? Or did you burn that incident out of your memory?” You remind him.

“Hey, that one doesn’t count. He was break-checking me and that asshole had it coming. He’s fucking lucky I wasn’t in the mood to fight. Prick didn’t know what he was getting himself into.”

“Wasn’t in the mood to fight? More like too scared.” You tease Eren all the time about it but to be honest, you always feel safe when he’s driving. Okay, yeah, he drives when he’s high — but he’s smoked so much weed throughout his life that he seems 100% more capable than when he’s sober. You’d trust him with your life, much to your mother’s disgust.

“Did you see him?! He looked 6”4 and was built like a brick-shit house! I never start a fight that I know I’m going to lose. Work smarter not harder, that’s how I’ve survived this long.”

You chuckled a smile spreading across your lips “Well let’s keep it that way. Eyes on the road, buckaroo.”

••••••••••••

Half a blunt, three beers each and a half hour car ride later, you arrive at the beach. It’s just past 3am and the horizon is slightly tinged a light blue, a hint that the sun will soon bring a new day. The salty air is refreshing as it fills your lungs and you can feel your muscles ease as the high kicks in. The heat seems to have left and the cold is now settling in, making you contemplate winding up your window. Eren must’ve noticed the way you shiver because he winds it up for you from the controls on his side.

“Thanks. You looking out for me?”

“Always.” It’s true, he always has.

It must be late, because the last time you heard the presenter on the radio must have been at least five songs ago. Now the faint sounds of 90s classics seep out of the speakers one after the other. Perfect background noise for a spliff session. You lean your head back against the seat and close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of your muscles becoming light and airy.

“It’s almost 4:20am, how are we gonna celebrate?” Eren questions over the sound of the radio.

“I dunno, like we always do? Smoke weed, drink beers, talk shit and then get a happy meal on the way home.” You turn your head towards him. “What could be better than that?”

Fucking you in the back seat of his car while smoking a fat joint. That would definitely top a McDonald’s happy meal anyday.

“Sounds fucking phenomenal. Nothing I’d rather do more.” Apart from being balls deep inside of that pretty cunt with one of your tits sucked into his mouth.

He passes you the blunt he’s smoked halfway down and watches you lick your lips before slipping it between them and taking a deep breath in.

Eren always thought you looked your best when high. The weed seemed to plump your skin, creating a certain rose tinted look about you. Your eyes always looked brighter too, dewy and a little glazed. He imagined that’s exactly what you’d look like when you’re horny, and he’s not wrong.

Ever since you first started smoking weed, you’ve noticed it’s made you a little hornier than usual. You don’t know what happens to you; it’s like it flicks a switch inside of you and your senses become heightened. You get a little needy and a little touchy, and you definitely become a little wetter than when you’re sober. Oh boy… when you’re with Eren and smoking? You can barely contain yourself. Just two blunts in and all that man had to do was look at you and you’d be like a bitch in heat.

You had a feeling Eren might feel the same way, but in all this time you’ve been doing this with him, he’s never once made a move. You’re starting to think that maybe he doesn’t feel the same after all, or is he just waiting for you to make the first move?

Well, you’re only half a bunt and three beers in. Maybe you’ll start to become a little bolder after another one and a half blunts and two more beers.

••••••••••••

Time seems to fly. Eren’s telling you a story about some girl he sells weed to on the college campus and how she offered to suck his dick to pay for it. He then told her that he's not being ungrateful, but he actually needs the money to pay for beers for a party he was going to. A blowjob would be great and all, he had explained, but it’s not what he was looking for.

Somewhere in between him mentioning a blowjob, and something about being slapped in the face by the pre-mentioned girl, you stopped listening. The beer and weed has truly kicked in, but is mixed with something more dangerous. You can’t help the way your eyes flit towards his lips, red and plump, watching them form words you’re not listening to and wondering how soft they’d feel on yours. Your gaze then starts to travel lower and you’re only just now noticing that he’s wearing grey sweatpants; you can definitely see the faint outline of his dick from your position in the passenger seat, making your thoughts go racing.

“Hey, you still there?” Eren must’ve noticed that you’ve stopped paying attention.

You don’t know why you say it, but there was no stopping the question falling from your lips.

“Can I suck your dick?” You only realise what you have said when you look back up at Eren. His eyes are wide and he looks like a deer caught in headlights. Fuck.

He kind of just sits there, mouth slightly open as he processes what you’ve just said to him. Did he hear you right? No, must’ve just been the weed messing with him. Still, he’s hopeful and presses on.

“What?”

Oh shit, you really just did say that. You think about ways to recover from this — and fuck, there’s no way your fuzzy brain will be able to come up with something that makes sense. You’re feeling bold, so you decide to roll with it.

“You heard me. So you gonna let me suck it or not?”

You’re staring right at Eren and this must be real. You really did ask to suck his dick, didn’t you? From the look in your eyes, you were deadly serious, and fuck, he loves how forward you are with it. His dick twitches in his sweatpants, although he wants to toy with you first, make you panic a little.

“That’s pretty forward if you, isn’t it?” A smirk spreads across Eren’s face and you feel the boldness fly out of you for nerves to take its place. Somehow you persist. There’s no going back now, so it's time to go big or go home.

“The offer won’t stand for much longer.” A lump starts to form in your throat and your mouth goes dry.

Eren pushes his seat back and lets his red rimmed eyes drink you in, tongue swiping his bottom lip as they work their way up your body before landing on your eyes. You think he doesn’t notice the way your thighs clench together when the hem of his hoodie rises up just a little, but he does, and this motherfucker enjoys the way you’re squirming next to him. He wonders if your wetness is already pooling and if it’s starting to smear all over his passenger seat below.

He wonders how long you’ve been wanting to ask him that question. Was it since he parked at the beach, or while en route? Maybe even before that. Could it have started when he texted you? Or perhaps you’ve had this feeling for a long time now, back when you’d hang together in his dorm sharing blunts and playing board games. Maybe, just maybe.

While Eren thinks it over, he is definitely enjoying seeing you panic. He makes sure you're watching as he brings the blunt to his lips, wetting them before he takes a hit. He breathes in deep, letting the smoke fill his lungs. In the dim light of his car, you can see the end of the blunt glow, burning a deep amber.

When Eren puffs out, he’s veiled in the smoke; he looks a little intimidating, eyes never leaving yours, and you can tell he’s thinking about saying something.

“Alright.”

Alright? That’s all he’s gonna say? He’s not going to question it? Fuck it. Two can play at that game.

Without taking your eyes off of him, your cold fingers dip underneath the waistband of his sweatpants and he hisses through his teeth at the sudden contact. Of course he’s not wearing underwear. Fucking typical.

You pull his dick out from his sweatpants and it’s already hard, twitching ever so slightly at your cool touch. You almost gasp at the sight of it and your thighs clench — it’s fucking pretty. It’s long but girthy and it’s a pretty tanned shade with a blushed pink tip. There’s a prominent vein along the underside of it and you feel it bulge under your fingertips. However, your favourite thing has to be his balls. They are big and plump and full, and you can’t wait to fuck them cupped inside your hand.

With delicate fingers, you wrap them around his shaft and bring it towards your mouth, tongue ghosting over his tip and letting your warm breath fan over him. You’re a fucking tease and he tries his absolute hardest not to buck up towards your tongue, keeping his eyes on yours. He’s not letting you win.

You feel your composure start to falter when you see Eren’s leaking tip, and you can’t help but kitten lick at his head. He sucks in a breath through his teeth when you do so, and when you look up, he's staring right back at you, urging you on with his eyes.

When you taste Eren on your tongue, you can’t help but suck it into your mouth ever so slightly. He tastes a little tangy and a little sweet, no doubt from the weed that’s running through his veins. Before long, you give in quite easily, so eager to feel his dick fill your throat.

You sink your mouth onto him slowly, hollowing out your cheeks. You can feel the swell of saliva fill your mouth and coat his dick in a thick sheen. He moans at the sensation and his head tilts back, hands balling into fists at his side. His moans encourage you to move, and soon, you’re bobbing up and down on his dick at a nice rhythm.

Eren is thick and long, his tip hitting the back of your throat every now and then. Before long, pull him out of your mouth and catch your breath. A string of saliva hangs from your mouth to his dick and he grunts at the sight, fingers working their way into your hair and guiding your mouth back to his dick.

“Fuck. Don’t stop baby girl, keep going. You’re doing so well for me.”

Your knees tremble at his words and you take him back inside your mouth, one hand coming up to cup his balls.

The noises coming from you are obscene and dirty and Eren can’t quite believe this is fucking happening right now — can’t quite believe that you’re sucking the life out of him in the driver’s seat of his car. He almost thinks he’s dreaming.

Eren’s hips start to buck up into you and he moans at the way you choke around him, his fingers gripping your hair tighter and starting to push down on your head. Your saliva collects at the base of his dick, and the way you massage his balls almost sends him into overdrive; he has to pull you off.

“Ah shit – you need to stop. I’m gonna cum if you don’t.”

You try to catch your breath and you probably look like a mess, hair stuck to your saliva covered face, skin flushed and tears pricking your eyelashes. But he still looks at you like you’ve hung the moon and the stars.

“C’mere.”

Before your brain has time to catch up, Eren is leaning forward and pulling you onto him, arms circling around the small of your back as he pulls you impossibly closer, chest to chest. His mouth is on yours in an instant, tongue swiping at your lips and dipping into your mouth. You can feel the flex of his jaw against your palms.

He’s intoxicating; you can taste the sweet tang of weed that laces his tongue and it leaves you wanting more. It’s just not enough.

As if reading your mind, you feel the faint touch of Eren’s fingers as they toy with the hem of your hoodie. His fingers have always been cold and you hiss at the sudden feeling, moaning into his mouth as lithe fingers work their way up and under the hem running over the warm skin of your torso. His touch causes a shiver of goosebumps to ripple across your skin.

Fuck, you feel like a giddy school girl. You’ve done this before, but never with Eren. The butterflies are soaring around your stomach at the way he touches you, and there’s something about the way he talks to you that fills you with nerves.

You are pulled back from your thoughts when his calloused fingers cup the soft flesh of your breasts. You feel Eren’s breath hitch — and that’s when you remember that you’re not wearing a bra.

Below you, Eren chuckles to himself at his little discovery. His thumbs run over your hardened nipples and, fuck, were you braless this whole time? Sitting next to him, bare breasts rubbing against the material of your hoodie? He wonders if your pretty little cunt is just as bare and his heart races at the thought. His weed filled brain just can’t take it, and he starts to buck up into you to find out.

“No bra?” Eren whispers against your neck, you can feel the curl of his lips on your flesh, a devious smirk spreading across his face. “Was that for me?”

Eren chuckles into your skin when your thighs clench around him at his words. Of course it was for him. Everything you do is.

He briefly removes his mouth from yours to pull your hoodie up and over your head, throwing it behind him where it’ll get lost somewhere in the back seat. Then he pauses and leans further back in his seat taking you all in. His hoodie is pulled up slightly to reveal his toned stomach underneath, and you can’t help but lean closer, placing your hands onto him. You hope it looks like you're just trying to steady yourself and not feel him up — you don’t want to look too eager, like you’ve been desperate to touch him like this. But of course it doesn’t work. Eren is always so observant.

You watch as his eyes, red rimmed and glazed, fall onto your hands as they splay themselves across his flesh, fingers digging into his skin ever so slightly. He definitely notices the goosebumps when your hands meet his hard stomach and if his ego wasn’t big enough already, it definitely is now. You’ve wanted him just as much as he’s wanted you, huh?

Eren meets your eyes then, bringing the half-smoked blunt to his chapped lips and taking a long drag, holding it in as it burns down his throat and into his lungs. You wish you could see his thoughts right now; you’d kill to know what was going on in that clouded brain of his.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally releases the smoke and blows it over your half naked form, veiling you in a soft glow, eyes still on yours as if waiting for your next move.

Eren’s silence makes you anxious. You can’t tell if he’s enjoying the view or thinking about changing his mind. The mix of the weed running through your veins and the nerves that Eren’s gaze creates has you feeling a little dizzy and nervous, so you ask him.

“Shotgun me?” You have a coy smile spread across your face, a mischievous glint in your eyes as your hand wanders a little further down. How could he possibly say no?

With a smirk of his own, Eren’s words come out slow and a little slurred as they rasp past his lips. You’ve always loved how gravely and hoarse his voice gets when he’s high. It never fails to make your pussy gush.

“Fuck yes.” His hands tighten their hold on your thighs before he brings the joint back to his lips.

He remembers the first time he ever shot-gunned you. He never expected you to say yes but he was so, so glad you did.

It was back when you were quite the light weight. You were both in his dorm, your mind hazy with the high just after a few shotguns from him. It was adorable how giddy you’d get, giggling at anything he’d say or do and making shitty dad jokes that you’d find absolutely hilarious. But you’d start to get bold, hands grabbing at his jaw pulling him in to ask for another. Your lips would inch closer until they were just ghosting his own, practically begging to be kissed; he’d never do it though, not if you weren’t ready. But fuck, you made it hard for him.

You’d get so touchy, so needy as the night went on. You’d grab at Eren’s neck to pull him closer and whisper something in his ear. He could feel your hot breath against his skin, lips pressing into the shell of his ear ever so slightly. Eren bets they’d taste delicious, your cherry chapstick mixed with the sweet tang of weed. It’d be hard for him to stop, so he’d never start, instead waiting for you to make the first move.

Soon your hands would start wandering into Eren’s hair asking if you could braid it, and being the secret softy he is, of course he’d let you. You’d be on top of his bed, feet dangling either side of him as he’d sit in between them, fingers drawing little circles into your calves as you work your fingers into his tendrils of hair.

Eren would never admit it, but he loved it when you played with his hair. His whole body would tingle as your nails would scratch against his scalp, and he’d have to stop himself from moaning at your touch, the delicate scratch of your nails sending him into absolute euphoria.

You had to know what you were doing to him when you’d pull a little harder at his strands, the sting almost causing him to moan out, head tilting further back into your touch and brushing against your inner thighs. It’d take every last ounce of his restraint to not turn his head and press a wet open-mouthed kiss into your flesh, to pull your joggers down and dip his tongue into your sweet folds and make you writhe above him just like he is below you right now.

But over time, you’d come round to his dorm more often, and soon you weren’t so much of a lightweight. You stopped being giddy and needy as you grew into your tolerance, even able to handle a full blunt all by yourself. Eren was almost proud at how far you’d come, but it meant no more shotgun kisses and no more hair braiding. He'd be lying if he said he didn’t miss it.

So you could only imagine how excited he is right now as you straddle him, clothed pussy rubbing into his bare, throbbing dick and making a mess of your shorts.

Eren’s fingers wrap around your jaw to hold you in place, thumb swiping across your lips and coaxing them open. He just has to dip the tip of his thumb inside and watch as you suck it into your mouth, tongue swirling around the digit. He reels you a little closer, just enough to keep you wanting more as he blows out, basking you in a cloud of his smoke.

You breathe it in and it goes straight to your head, swirling around and making you feel as light as air. Fuck, you’ve missed this. You can’t help the way your hips grind down into him as he does it again, tongue dipping into your mouth this time.

“Look at you. So desperate to have me inside of you, huh?” God, Eren loves it when you’re dying for him, and nothing can ease your hunger except his dick stuffing you full. You’re becoming impatient, but before you can take matters into your own hands, you feel Eren’s wandering fingers dancing over your clothed slit. The fabric of your shorts and underwear act as a barricade, and you feel the ever growing need to feel those fingers deep inside of you. It becomes unbearable, as if you just might combust.

Callused fingers carefully rub circles into the fabric and you can feel your excitement as it dampens your underwear under his fingertips.

“I need you. Fuck, Eren, I need your fingers inside of me.” He smirks at how desperate you are and he loves that he can do this to you, make you a begging, pleading mess.

“You're not gonna say please?” Eren can be such a dick sometimes, but you’re in no mind to come back with something smart, your brain is a muddled mess and all you can think about is Eren and his fingers and his dick and how much you need him, all of him. So you just give in, not even trying to be just a little bit subtle about it.

“Ugh, fuck. Please, pl-please. Fuck me with your fingers, god please.” You moan out, writhing under Eren's touch that’s just not quite enough.

“Okay baby girl, pull your shorts down for me.”

Being ever so obedient, you’re quick to remove your shorts, wishing the stupid piece of material was discarded long ago. The man below you groans at the sight that greets him.

You’re wearing a pair of grey lace underwear, the colour of the material making your wetness visible to Eren, and he can’t help but run his index finger along your clothed slit and up to your clit. The action elicits a delicious moan from you and he has to tear his eyes away from your pussy to look at you.

You’re watching Eren’s every move, watching his finger as it circles your clit, your underwear becoming darker as the wetness grows. Your hips start to buck up, desperate to feel that pressure you desire. If Eren had a clear mind and wasn’t higher than the Empire State, he’d make you beg for it, wait till you're on the verge of tears before he gives you what you want. But Eren is just as desperate as you and his composure is on thin ice.

So with one hand, he pushes your underwear to the side and a guttural moan escapes you when you feel Eren’s rough fingertips slide against the delicate flesh of your pussy. They spread your wetness to your clit, and just as promised, Eren dips them between your folds. You gasp as they push past your ring of muscle, curling up into your spongy walls, and you let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Fuck, you’re soaking baby. All this for me?” Yes, yes it was. Everything was for him. It always has been and it always will be.

Your cunt sucks Eren in deep; he feels you pulse around his knuckles, sending a pang of desire straight to his twitching dick. He couldn’t even fathom that his dick would soon replace his fingers, deep inside your warm wet walls, pulling him in and milking him dry. The thought has his knees shaking and chest caving in.

His middle finger joins his ring finger inside of you and he moves his wrist positioning it better so that he can pound into you at a quicker pace and finger fuck you from below. He sets a soul-shattering pace and you have to splay your hands across the window to keep you upright. With every thrust, his fingertips hit that sweet spot inside of you — and just when you think it’s too much, his other hand comes up and his fingers start to rub at your clit relentlessly.

You feel the familiar fireworks start to spark in your core, and before you know it, you’re gushing all over him, a moaning, shaking mess as his fingers continue with the same speed.

“Fuck, Eren! It’s too much, I-I can’t take it!” You whimper.

“That’s it baby, I’ve got you, you’re doing such a good job. Fuck, look at you, squirting all over me.”

Eren feels the way you pulse around his fingers after you cum and he collects your juices before pulling out and sucking them into his mouth, moaning at the taste of you.

“Fuck. I can’t wait any longer, baby. I’ve got to be inside of you.”

Before you have time to come down from your climax, he’s pushing your underwear to the side and lining his dick up with your entrance. Slowly, you sink down onto him.

You both moan together as you slowly take him into your warmth inch by inch. You can feel that prominent vein as it bulges against your gummy walls and your pussy quivers at the feeling.

Once Eren is fully sheathed inside the channel of your cunt, your body starts to move of its own accord, desperate to feel the sweet stretch of his dick. You start to grind down into his, but he grips at your hips to stop your movements, keeping you still on top of him. His face is grimaced, eyes screwed shut and he looks like he’s trying to concentrate.

“Ah shit – don’t move. I’ll cum if you do, just let me focus,” Eren hisses through gritted teeth. His confession sends a bolt of electricity straight to your pussy and you clench around him.

“Fuck, don’t do that. Not now, it’s too much.” His grip on you tightens.

“Eren please, I don’t know how much longer I can wait wanna feel you drag inside of me.” Your tiny pleas do little to help his focus. The weed isn’t helping either; it makes him extra sensitive to your warm, wet walls, and he can feel every pulse of your cunt.

You sit above him, cock deep inside of you, cockwarming Eren for what feels like forever. You’re growing a little impatient and almost start moving until you hear him below you.

“Okay baby, ride me.” And that’s all the permission you need as you start to drag your hips across his, the tip of his dick nudging your walls. You moan out when he starts to thrust up into you ever so slightly. He thinks this is the perfect time to reach for his blunt.

One hand is on your hip, swaying back and forth with your movements, while the other holds a blunt between his fingers, offering it to you after he takes a hit every so often and blows it over your body, veiling it in a mist of smoke. Meanwhile, the orange light from the street lights outside basks you in a heavenly glow, softening your skin. Eren catches himself swipe at his bottom lip, pulling the kiss-drunk skin into his mouth ever so slightly. Fuck, you look ethereal. He will forever remember this image; he’ll burn it into the backs of his eyelids and replay it whenever he pleases.

The way your body moves above him has Eren staring in awe. He swears you are a fucking angel sent down to earth just for him. You seem to be basked in a light and it surrounds him and makes his skin hot to the touch. He still can’t believe this is really happening.

Part of Eren wants to flip you over and drive into you from above. He wants to lift your leg over his shoulder and reach just that little bit deeper, tip dragging against that sweet spot inside of you… but why would he when you’re doing a perfectly good job yourself? And he does have the most perfect view from below you; he can see everything from your gushing pussy, from the strings of your cum collecting at the base of his cock which smears all over his thighs, to your perfect tits bouncing so perfectly in front of him. Don’t get him started on that pretty face of yours. If you could personify euphoria, you would be it, eyebrows knitted together, eyes closed and mouth hanging open, all your senses focusing on everything that is him.

Eren can’t help but run his mouth when you look like this above him. Maybe it’s the weed talking, or maybe it’s just his sober thoughts — but fuck, he can’t keep his mouth shut and it makes you go feral.

“What would your mom say if she saw you right now, huh? Her perfect little daughter smoking my weed and fucking me like the dirty slut she is? She’d just about have a heart attack now, wouldn't she?” Eren’s eyes are dark, and they make you feel like you’re doing something you shouldn’t. It gives you butterflies and you feel a wave of desire go straight to your aching cunt.

Eren becomes so talkative when he’s high and he’s definitely had one too many blunts, so there’s no stopping the shit that tumbles out of his mouth. But god, does he sound so fucking good saying it: it’s raspy and whiney and delicious as he praises you, telling you what a good fucking job you’re doing, how you’re taking his dick so well and riding him like a fucking goddess. All the while, his tip throbs and twitches and hits so deep from this angle. It’s almost unbearable.

It’s raw and dirty and so fucking good. It’s everything you could ever imagine and you know you're on the verge of cumming all over him. Not a coherent thought runs through your mind and you can’t seem to form words, yet Eren understands. He can tell by the way your movements have become jerky, hips stuttering with every thrust and your breathing turning fast and shallow. He reaches between where you both connect and presses against your swollen bud, the pressure almost making your knees buckle below you.

“That’s it, baby girl. Cum for me. You’re doing such a good job.” His words of praise, thick with desire and laced with sweetness, are what tips you over the edge. You’ve had many orgasms in your lifetime but not like this, not when you’re high and above Eren-fucking-Jaeger. It feels blissful, so toe curly and so fucking warm. The orgasm starts from your core, spreading to every inch of you from the inside out. You feel weightless and it’s like you're floating.

Eren is not far behind; in fact, the pulsing of your walls has him spilling everything he’s got into you. When he’s high, Eren’s pull out game is non-existent. You could say it was the weed that makes him this way, that it dulls his senses and makes his muscles feel heavy. In reality? It’s not that at all. He’s just too caught up in the moment to stop himself, to pull out and spurt all over your stomach. And why would he when you’re on the pill and feel this good? He’d be a mad man if he didn’t cum inside you.

When Eren does cum, it’s a lot. He always finds his load when he’s high to be double, if not triple the amount than when he’s sober. It comes in thick ropes that paint your walls white and spill into your womb. Guttural, whiny moans push past his lips with every white rope that spurts from his balls. He has to grip onto your hips, hang on for dear life as his orgasm seems to pull him up into the sky and melt all over him.

When Eren comes crashing back down to earth, it’s like he’s been wrapped up in a warm, cosy blanket. His eyes finally flutter open, and he swears he’s met with a literal angel. He truly believes he has died and gone to heaven.

•••••••••••

It’s now 5:17am and you’re both in your clothes again, lying in the back seat of his car. The sun is slowly peeking over the horizon, and Eren is just now sensing his sobriety creep up on him. He feels the heavy weight of your head on his chest, your eyelashes and shallow breath tickling his skin.

He can’t help but look around and reminisce. Hand prints scatter the windows, and no, he won’t wash them. Instead, he’s chosen to keep them where they are, a gentle reminder of what happened here in the early hours of April 20th. A small smile sneaks its way onto his lips as he remembers, faint memories filling his mind.

Your shallow snores are peaceful and Eren feels his eyelids become heavy. He takes one last look down at you, nestled closely to him, a slight glow to your skin, and he can help but hope this won’t be the last time.

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