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mae-gi-writes · 3 days

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Finders Keepers | Gally [TMR] - Part 6

In which Gally gets soft for one of the boys in the Glade, only…is it a boy? alternatively; In which Mai disguises herself into a boy to fit in the Glade, only to be suspected by the keen eyes of the Builder's Keeper.

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"She needs to be banished."

"I say we banish her!"

"She doesn't belong here!"

"She's a liar!"

The Homestead is filled with angry shouts and protests as Mai sits fingering the hem of her shirt nervously. There's no doubt that there is outrage at the prospect of her lying, but it's definitely the fact that she's a girl that's getting her into this big mess. But what could she have done when the voices in her head are so strong that she has no choice but to obey?

Last night had been terrible. She had nightmares, flashbacks of the night before, the look of Henry's face plaguing her mind until she woke up with a heaving chest. So fearful she'd been that she'd crawled from her mattress to the edge of Gally's bed, wishing to feel him close at her side.

Gally, who had still been sleepy when his eyes had blinked open at her, merely grunted before flipping his blanket open for her. The girl took this chance to burrow herself into his side. She hadn't cared about personal space or about the fact that the Builder would make fun of her for this. She'd only wanted to feel safe, and it's with Gally that she could have a peace of mind.

Which is how she found herself cooped up into Gally's arms in the morning, opening her eyes to see none other than his peaceful features. She'd spent some time admiring him alright, tracing them with her eyes and realizing that Gally looked years younger when he didn't have that permanent frown on his face. And when the Builder had slowly come out of sleep, the girl had quickly squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to feign sleep.

She'd felt him take a surprised breath, the arm around her waist tensing underneath her, before he'd gently tugged his limb out and moved away from the bed with the kind of surprising gentleness that she hadn't suspected he had. What he hadn't known however, was the way Mai's heart had been beating erratically against her chest this entire time she'd forced herself to stay still.

If she closes her eyes now, she can almost feel the sensation of his hands along her waist. It makes her shiver.

"Alright everyone calm down!" Alby's voice booms through the room and there's instant silence that prevails, leaving only suspicious eyes and reluctant looks at the Leader of the glade.

"Nobody is getting banished for anything," Alby continues despite the flurry of protests at his words. He raises his voice so that it booms across the room, "Mai is one of ours. She's a Glader just like the rest of you."

"She shuckin' lied to us!" One of the gladers spit out.

"And did that hurt you? No? Exactly," Alby points out, "as far as I know, she hasn't hurt anybody around here."

"I agree with him," Minho says from his spot, arms crossed and looking over at Mai with a wink, "if anything, she's the one that's helping to fees your stomachs, you stupid slintheads."

"But she still lied. Does that not count for anything?" another glader asks.

The choral of debates pick up and Mai can't help but cover her ears out of instinct. They're all too loud, so loud they make her ears hurt and she has half a mind to walk out of the room before Alby finally yells out for silence.

The noise ceases and everyone listens.

"Right," his voice rings out with authority, "this is what we're gonna do. It's true that Mai broke the rules by lying to us, but that does not mean she gets banished. She didn't hurt anyone. She's the one who almost got hurt." he turns to her then, a flash of sympathy swimming in his eyes. But she gives him a quiet nod, as if in understanding, "so one night in the Slammer is your punishment."

Mai will take it. It's not the best, but she'll survive.

So she doesn't protest or fight when Newt and Minho flank her sides, accompanying her to one of the Slammer cages. They help her inside before closing the door behind her with apologetic looks on their faces.

"Sorry Greenie," Newt says, "we'll get you out of here first thing in the morning."

"I'll come and slip you food," Minho reassures.

"Thanks," Mai's voice is weak and tiny as it echoes out of the cage. She doesn't say anything else as she settles down onto the hard muddy floor. Great, and now she'll have even more dirty clothes to wash.

The hours go by and time seems to lose meaning. Mai tries to occupy herself by counting how many roots she can find sticking out from the opposite mud wall but soon loses interest when the light of the sun slowly disappears and turns to a blanket of darkness. Soon, all the bustling and the clinking of tools, the shouts and the buzz of conversation still to a stop once the light of the day starts going out. And that's when the fear starts to crawl over her spine.

She tries not to think about what had happened with Henry but it's almost impossible to close her eyes without seeing all of him in display before her. Mai clenches her teeth together, arms wrapping protectively around her knees as she allows her face to bury into the small nook of comfort that it creates.

Crunch. The sound of footsteps cause Mai to jerk up, eyes flitting towards the black sky. Her breath catches in her throat as she waits, muscles tense. She's had enough adventure to last herself a lifetime and is in no need of more boys like Henry around. Especially right now.

But then, a voice slips through the silence and causes her to sigh out in relief.

"Hey Greenie."

Gally.

And there comes his face between the caged bars, frowning is usual frown as if everything displeases him. The familiar sight is one that is welcome by the said girl, whose chest fills with emotion upon seeing his figure standing a few meters away. She's never felt so safe with anyone but Gally and that simple fact brings back memories of them cooped up together in his bed. Heat flushes through her cheeks at the thought and she's glad it's night time, so that Gally doesn't have to see the embarrassment flooding her face.

"Hi Gally," she croaks out weakly.

He lets out a sigh. She hears him move about until she spots his figure as he takes a seat perched right atop the cage.

"Thought you'd be hungry," he proceeds to toss her a wrapped sandwich that Mai grabs without hesitation.

She unwraps it with barely restrained hunger and the first bite is amazing, flavours exploding onto her tongue and causing her to groan in delight. She hasn't eaten since morning and her stomach is practically growling itself to death at this point.

"You'll have to stay the night," Gally's voice echoes through the cell wall.

Mai bites down onto her lower lip, "I know." Her eyes flutter up to his. She's surprised by the gentleness she finds there. It's not something she's used to, "I'll be fine."

Gally doesn't respond for a while. Mai busies herself with the food in hopes that the awkward atmosphere will somehow dissipate. She's not quite sure how Gally takes it; the news about her being a girl. They haven't spoken about it since and something in her heart squeezes at the thought that he doesn't want anything else to do with her now that he knows her secret.

But then again, he wouldn't be here providing her with food right?

That is why she's surprised when he says:

"I'm sorry."

Mai blinks up, surprised.

"Why?" The words fall out of her mouth before she can stop them, "it's not your fault. If anything, it's mine." The last few words trail off into a whisper, as though saying them aloud might bring back the memory of last night.

He takes a breath, exhales it out as one hand rubs at his hair. He has a very bad habit of doing that when something's on his mind.

"Gally," Mai calls out once she's done with her food and crumpled the wrapping paper up into a ball. When his blue orbs meet hers, dancing with the light of the lamp, she gives him a small smile, "thank you. For saving me."

He grunts as if to say you're welcome, and she swear she spots a blush crawling up his face. Grinning to herself, Mai settles back against the wall as she hears the soft chants of the cicadas signaling that the night will be long.

"You don't have to stay here with me, you know." she says suddenly, only to find Gally already looking back down with furrowed brows. The look on his face is somewhat endearing. She's learnt to love it, his grouchiness.

"It's either that or you're all alone, greenie."

"I can take care of myself."

"That's not what you said last night."

Mai flushes at his words. Well, he's not the greatest at softening blows now, is he? "Well, that was--it was just last night..." her words end in a mumble, causing a soft snicker from the said Builder.

"Try and get some sleep, Greenie." He settles himself more comfortably against the top so that he's lounging onto the edge, visible enough for Mai to see him without having to crane her neck or look about, "I don't need you being all cranky tomorrow morning. And--" he peers down at her with what looks to be a smirk, "--don't think I'll let you off the hook so easily just 'cause you're a girl."

"Slinthead," Mai mutters under her breath, but loud enough for him to hear as she nestles her head against the wall and curls up her legs underneath, "night Gally."

"Goodnight Greenie."

-----

The next few days are weird.

Weird, because Gally now has to re-train his brain into thinking that Mai's indeed, a girl, and that it's not just something that he's come up with as a theoretical explanation. No, she's actually a girl and she looks like one, even.

It's not just the fact that she's tiny and pale and looks like she could snap in two with just a huge gust of wind. It's not just the fact that she's always in the kitchens and is now able to tie her hair back with a bandana to keep it away from her face -- something that she'd avoided because it would make people talk back then -- not just the fact that Mai, he realizes, has soft and fine, delicate features akin to a doll, a complete contrast to the rough hands and the hardened faces of the boys in the Glade.

No. It's the fact that despite all of what he's just described as above, despite everything that he's listed out like a reason for him to blame upon, it's Mai's brown eyes -- those big, beautiful eyes framed by lashes and always looking at him like she's in a permanent state of surprise -- that has his heart skipping and his chest tightening for god knows what reason.

Maybe he's coming down with something. He surely is. He feels hot and cold and hot all at once, and that's proven to be signs of sickness.

But it's a harder face to ignore than most. Suddenly, Mai is the center of attention and all boys are basking, begging to be part of her circle. Some gladers are giving her a helping hand when carrying stuff to and from the kitchen, some are chatting her up whenever they find her alone and free, others are always asking whether she needs anything; someone to walk with her, someone to guard her showers, someone to help her pick up branches for firewood.

Gally's not too sure how he feels about that. So he decidedly puts a stop to all his feelings. And plus, the Greenie is now fine with everyone and seems to be getting along quite well. She doesn't look in need of his help any longer.

Nevertheless, a few days go by and finally it's time for the box to come up. They all crowd around it nervously, knowing exactly at what precise time the metal hinges will scream with effort as the box is dragged upwards. Gally is busy frowning down at the metal-clad hole in the ground with such intensity that he almost misses the soft tap on his shoulder.

He turns, eyes flickering over Mai's features as something in his heart tugs. A cold, he thinks to himself, he really needs to get himself checked out by the Med-Jacks.

"Gally," her eyes light up when she smiles. She has a pretty smile. How had he not noticed that before when she'd claimed to be a guy?

He nods to her, frown still in place as he turns back to the hole, "Greenie."

"I'm not going to be a Greenie anymore," Mai reminds him, "we'll get a new one today."

He glances back at her over his shoulder, "the name suits you."

She pouts and this particular expression on hers throws him off guard, heart suddenly clamoring in his chest and his hands suddenly aching to reach out and pinch her cheeks. God she's cute when she wants to be.

The familiar clanging of metal and the whirring of cogs steals his attention away. All Gladers turn to it expectantly as the box slowly crawls up to their level before finally coming to a stop with a screeching halt.

"Open it up!" Alby shouts as him and Newt grab both sides of the box. Gally leans over to help and they tug it out of the way to reveal a young, pudge-faced boy that looks no older than twelve.

"It's a boy!" one of the Gladers shout out in what sounds to be happiness and Mai can't help but scoff.

Since Mai is the greenie right before him, she has the responsibility of introducing the boy to the Glade. He's young and has a cherubic face, and almost bursts into tears the moment he is lifted from the box. Alby had had to calm him down and explain to him how the Glade works in the privacy of the Homestead as everyone resumed their work for the day, and after that the young boy was introduced to Mai as Chuck.

Chuck is nice and friendly once he gets comfortable with Mai's presence, and the two seem to hit it off once they get past the pleasantries of the Glade. He seems already a bit homesick and Mai is quick to reassure him that the Glade already feels like home to her.

"Don't worry," Mai says as she helps him tie up his hammock next to hers. Gally had previously forced her to move her hammock as close to his hut as possible in case of any inappropriate behavior from the boys now that her identity was out in the open, so she was now placed on the very edge of the Hammock space, right in front of the said Builder's front door. It's not a problem in the grand scheme of things. But it is an issue when Gally just has to glance at the new kid to make his eyes water.

"He's not that bad you know," Mai explains to Chuck as the younger boy settles himself into his hammock, "he's a bit grouchy sometimes. But he's got a good heart."

"Are you sure we're talking about the same dude?" Chuck asks, fingering the hem of the new t-shirt he's received from one of the Gladers.

Mai can't help but laugh, "yes, we are. I swear to you. His heart's in the right place," she pauses, hesitant to say the words that come next, "He was actually really sweet to me throughout my first month at the glade."

Chuck's eyes are gazing upon her with a childlike curiosity that has her squirming in place and Mai feels the heat of embarrassment crawling up her cheeks as she tries to blow out some air. That's when he drops the bomb:

"You like him?"

Her heart stops, head whipping up to his, "what?" she stammers out, "what do you mean?"

"You know," Chuck says with the calmness of her mature person despite the fact that he's two feet shorter than she is, "like when people like each other. Not just as friends. As something more. Do you like him that way?"

"I--" Mai's heart is pumping so loud she's surprised Chuck can't hear it. But if it's not her heart, it's her face flushing red that gives her away. She doesn't need to answer, for Chuck seems to have read it straight from her expression.

His face explodes into a mischievous grin, "you do like him!"

"No, I--"

"Yes you do. Look at your face, it's written all over it!"

"No no, not like that--"

"You do! You like him!"

"Who likes who?"

Mai turns, yelping in shock as Chuck almost falls from his hammock. The Keeper of the Builders is staring him down, eyebrows raised in suspicion before his blue eyes direct themselves towards Mai's face. He repeats his question, "you like someone?"

Somehow, the darkness in his tone is impossible to ignore.

Mai is quick to dispel his thoughts for fear that her red face is going to give it all away, "no of course not, I--"

"Yes she does, and guess what Gally? She--"

Mai's hand shoots out, slapping onto Chuck's mouth before she sends Gally an innocent grin. The latter doesn't seem quite as thrilled at the new statement, gaze flickering between Mai's uneasy smile and Chuck's struggling expression.

"She what?"

"Nothing at all!" Mai throws the younger boy a glare before shoving him back into his hammock and turning to Gally with a smile so huge it looks like it hurts, "what you up to, Gal?"

If he's noticed the nickname, he decides to ignore it in favor of crossing his arms and cocking his head at her. There's a ghost of a smile, just barely there, on his face, "I wanted to show you somethin'. " He then turns to walk away, glancing back at her over his shoulder expectantly like he wants her to follow him.

So Mai throws Chuck one last glance of disapproval, "don't go anywhere alone. I'll finish the tour this afternoon." before she's off skipping in Gally's direction all while whistling a soft tune under her breath.

They make their way to the Builder's section, looking more like a garden with an array of tools scattered about the place while others are poised dangerously over overgrown tree roots. Gally calls out for the mess to be cleaned up and Mai's stomach clenches with sudden admiration. It's not something she'd say out loud but seeing Gally in his natural element makes her insides turn to mush.

He ducks into a small hut designed to keep his floorplans and blueprints. Mai follows, only to stop dead in her tracks at the piece of furniture sitting at the centre of the room.

"What's that?" She cocks her head curiously.

One of his hands go up to rub the back of his neck. He seems embarrassed, eyes shying away from hers to gaze at the furniture instead.

"That's a bed," he says almost reluctantly, voice scratchy and rough and making Mai yearn for more, "I thought it might fit you."

Surprise flits across her face, "thank you, that's—really kind of you." She shakes her head then, "but I'm not sure I have space to fit that in the Homestead—"

But the words get stuck in her throat when the Builder turns to gaze her head-on, those cerulean eyes like aquamarine storms of emotions flickering across his pupils like words that he can't seem to find.

"It's yours. Alby and I— well," he hesitates, "we thought you might want a Hut."

Mai stares at him. A hut? Just for her?

Her heart skips a beat and suddenly the air around her feels warm. Surely he didn't do that just for her right?

"But that's not fair is it?" She murmurs out, "all the other gladers—"

"Have eyes on you," he cuts her off with a firm stare, "it's better if you have a place of your own."

"But my hammock's right next to your hut. Makes it safe enough doesn't it?"

"I'm not always gonna be there Mai, I—" he swallows thickly, as if he'd stopped himself from saying anything else in case he might say too much. Pressing his lips together instead, Gally continues in a grumble, "it's better this way Greenie."

"I'm not a greenie anymore."

A semblance of a smile ghosts past his lips, "I know. It still fits you though."

Mai can't help but grin before she shoves him playfully. Although Gally barely budges. He's built like a brick wall after all. It's impossible to move him.

"Well, thank you Gally," she looks back towards the bed, "I'll take care of it."

"Right you do, Greenie."

----

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separatist-apologist · 17 hours

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The Sweetest Con

Summary: Nesta Archeron has been trapped in witness protection for the past five years, hiding a secret no one can ever learn. All she has to do is wait out the criminals back home determined to punish her and her sisters for a lie they told years before.

She can handle anything- even the new agent sent to keep her safe.

Read on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Nesta Archeron had bread in the oven.

It had been Cassian’s idea that morning. Why not check on the sourdough starter they’d been fermenting and try it in some bread? It was obvious he merely wanted to spend time with her in the kitchen and Nesta was hard pressed to think of a reason they shouldn’t. It was moody that morning—a thunderstorm had rolled through and showed no signs of relenting.

They were stuck inside and she’d reasoned it was better to do something rather than what they were usually doing.

And still, with twenty minutes left on the oven timer, Nesta found herself on her knees anyway, Cassian’s massive cock in her mouth. It started with a kiss that became two, became four, became Nesta up on the table while Cassian pressed himself between her legs. And then everything became frantic and desperate. She’d just managed to get his pants around his ankles first, but if she’d waited another thirty seconds, she’d be spread across the table.

Not for the first time, either.

She told herself just liked to watch him (a lie). Cassian was terrifying, a force to be reckoned with. He was an immovable object right up until Nesta was sliding her hands between his legs—and then he was as malleable as clay in her hands. Did he genuinely like her, she wondered? Or was she merely a distraction?

There was only one way to find out. Nesta had been plotting for the same amount of time she’d been touching him to get her hands on his phone. Sitting next to him on the sofa the night before had revealed his passcode—0000—and now all she needed was to so thoroughly exhaust him, he wouldn’t notice her snooping through his messages.

She just wanted to know, once and for all. What was his plan for her? Had Rhysand instructed Cassian to kill her? And what of her sisters? Nesta told herself once she knew, she could better plan…but that didn’t account for her actions right then. Nor was it entirely true to act like this was merely all part of some brilliant scheme. Not when Cassian threw his head back, hand holding her jaw while Nesta struggled to take the rest of him into her throat.

“Fuck, Nes—just like that,” he panted, his grip tightening ever so slightly. Nesta could feel the bulging vein just under the head of his cock, a tell-tale sign that he was about to come. She braced herself, eyes fluttering shut, just as Cassian grunted with pleasure and poured himself into her mouth.

The timer went off at the exact same time, thwarting Cassian’s obvious plans to reciprocate his pleasure. That was both disappointing and for the best, she decided. The night before, Nesta had passed out with her cheek stuck to his chest and woke to bright sunlight and the smell of burning coffee.

Not this time. This time, Nesta intended to wear Cassian out and stuff him full of food and let the Georgia heat do the rest. While she made her way to the oven, Cassian hastily pulled up his shorts.

“Is it wrong that I want to know every man you’ve ever practiced on?”

Nesta bent over the steaming oven to examine her sourdough. “What are you going to do, shoot them?”

“Yeah,” Cassian replied, elbowing her out of the way. His hands were clad in bright pink oven mitts and his dark hair was a tangled mess around his otherwise handsome face. It was the exact kind of logic a mobster would employ—she belongs to me, so I’ll pretend no one else has touched her.

Like a toddler hoarding toys at the playground, she thought wryly. She’d grown up in this life and had always rebelled at the idea that men owned their wives. And yet…yet, Cassian’s possessive nature wasn’t awful, either. Maybe because she knew the entire affair was time limited. Either he’d try to kill her or he’d be discovered by the actual feds and wind up in a prison cell.

So what did it hurt to enjoy herself for now?

“Looks good. Want me to grab butter, or—”

“We should let it cool down,” Nesta said, eyeing his naked, tattooed chest. “Want to do some yoga with me before we eat?”

The look on his face screamed no even as Cassian smiled easily and said, “Sure thing, baby.”

What followed was torture for them both. It was already miserably humid and insufferably hot. Nesta wanted to claw herself out of the clingy fabric she wore and hoped none of it showed on her face. She was one with the world, serene and unbothered. The sun could not hurt her so long as she slathered a thick layer of sunscreen all over her body. She’d bullied Cassian into putting some on, too—a careful ruse to run her hands up and down the toned muscles of his body though he needed it, too.

They practically crawled back into the cold air, with Nesta flinging open the freezer to stick her head inside while Cassian drank straight from the kitchen faucet.

“You’re a masochist,” Cassian accused, eyes squeezed shut as replaced his mouth with his entire face beneath the stream of cold water.

“I didn’t think it would be so bad,” Nesta said, taking some frozen, bagged broccoli out to place against her bare stomach. Cassian watched with open fascination, though he didn’t move to touch her.

“No more outdoor workouts. Lets go to a gym like civilized people,” he breathed, rising to his full height.

“The gym is unairconditioned—”

“Nesta, I can’t live this way,” he half pleaded, half joked. “I’ll put weights in the basement and run at two am.”

Nesta bit her bottom lip, thinking of the life Cassian was proposing. It was so easy to picture—and dangerous, too.

“I’m gonna shower, and then we’re going to eat some of this bread,” Cassian promised, pressing a quick kiss against her cheek. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“You got it,” she lied, eyes snagging on his phone. It was exactly where he’d left it, tossed casually to the kitchen table along with all the mail she didn’t want to look at. Nesta waited unmoving, listening as the bathroom door clicked shut. A moment later the sound of water hitting the porcelain tub filled the silence. Nesta counted to ten before lunging, typing in the passcode.

There, pinned at the very top of his messages, was a group chat with no other descriptor than a bat emoji. She wondered the significance as she scanned the names.

Rhysand: I don’t care what you need to do—drag E back and lock her in a closet if you have to.

Azriel: Easy for you to say while you’re playing house. She broke my fucking nose with that stupid bat—and she’s with a goddamn agent.

Cassian: How hard could it possibly be to keep track of one oblivious woman?

Azriel: Eat shit.

Rhysand: Are you tracking her? What does the agent know?

Azriel: He’s got family up in Appleton. Headed that way—as far as I know, they don’t know who I was.

Rhysand: Take the agent out, no questions asked. Secure E through whatever measures necessary—do not kill her.

Azriel: Wasn’t planning on it, but got it.

Nesta’s heart hammered in her chest. E—that had to be Elain. She hadn’t spent much time thinking about Elain but now…fuck. A quick search of her phone told her Appleton was in Wisconsin. If Elain was headed that way, Nesta needed to find her and warn her.

With shaking fingers, Nesta sent a text.

Cassian: Want help with a trace? Send me her number.

Please, please, please let them buy it, she prayed silently. Nesta’s heart was the loudest sound in the house, beating so violently she could barely hear the sound of Cassian’s shower over it. Her hands shook, holding his phone as she waited. The water cut off and Nesta was certain she’d been caught—Cassian would get the text later, realize what she’d done, and the entire thing would be blown.

Azriel: Sure. 555-201-9855. See if you can figure out where Vanserra is taking her. I’ll continue following behind.

Cassian: Meet me in Chicago? I can help lure her home with Nesta.

Azriel: Will she cooperate?

Cassian: Got her eating out of the palm of my hand.

Azriel: See you soon.

Nesta scribbled the number down on the back of an unopened bill before deleting the messages she’d sent. Nesta scrambled for her own phone, punching in the number to the sister she hadn’t spoken to in years. That ought to buy Elain some time, she reasoned, heart still pounding. Just enough for Nesta to get to her before anyone else did, anyway.

Nesta: Elain? This is Nesta. Rhysand is after you—they’re tracking you. Hide and tell no one where you are until I can get closer. I’m on my way—we have to find Feyre.

There. With that sent, and a clock ticking loudly in her head, Nesta all but ran to her bedroom and the gun she had hidden in her bedside table. Nesta had it in her hands, a small bag thrown together years ago slung over her shoulder, when she and Cassian met in the hall. His eyes dipped to the gun in her hand before he offered her a lopsided smile.

“Everything okay, Nes?” he asked, running a hand down his naked chest. The towel he’d wrapped around his waist was almost too small for him, accentuating the vee of his abdomen and the appendage hanging just between.

“I know what you are,” she whispered, hating the waver in her voice. Cassian’s smile only widened. “I’ll shoot.”

“Put the gun down, baby,” Cassian murmured, his voice honeyed and sweet. “Let's talk about this.”

“I’ll kill you,” she warned, well aware that her words were a lie. She couldn’t—even knowing who he was and what he was capable of, Nesta knew she couldn’t kill him.

Cassian advanced, unconcerned with the gun in her hand. She supposed he was used to seeing them, used to having them pointed directly at him. He was The Lord of Bloodshed, after all. That didn’t stop Nesta, who’d been going to the gun range long before feds ever dumped her in this swampy nowhere town.

Kill him and be done with it.

“Then why were you on your knees this morning, Nes?” Cassian whispered, those hazel eyes glittering with amusement. “You had my cock in your mouth. I didn’t even have to ask.”

“What happens in the bedroom and what happens out here are two separate things, Cass,” was all Nesta could think to say in response. She really was sorry, in that regard. She knew he didn’t see it that way.

Cassian shook his head, the loose ends of his wavy, dark hair brushing those muscular shoulders. “I’ll find you.”

“You’ll be dead,” she replied, willing the words to be true.

“You can’t kill me and we both know it,” Cassian told her. She hated that he was right, just like she knew that if she didn’t, he would hunt her down. This was personal, now—beyond the lies she’d told on her sister's behalf.

It didn’t matter. Rhysand had found them and Nesta needed to get to Elain before something horrible happened. Then they’d find Feyre and pray Rhysand hadn’t gotten to her first.

“I’m sorry,” Nesta whispered before she pulled the trigger. Cassian howled, crumpling to the ground. He wasn’t dead—just wounded. She’d shot him in the leg.

Nesta turned, knowing she only had minutes to put distance between them before Cassian rallied, caught her, and did god knows what to her. He looked enraged as she made her way toward the front door.

“This isn’t over between us, Nesta! I’ll have you back by the end of the week!”

She grabbed the keys to his jeep and made her way outside, fingers shaking. Nesta tossed the gun to the passenger seat before pulling her phone from her pocket. She had the car out of the gravel drive before she pulled out her phone, texting people she knew better than to drag into this mess.

Gwyn and Emerie were waiting for her when she pulled up to Emerie’s place.

“Start from the beginning,” Emerie ordered the moment Nesta swung from the blue vehicle while Gwyn held a shotgun in both hands, eyes pinned on Nesta. It was an odd moment, telling her friends—who were like sisters in a different sort of way—everything that had transpired half a decade before.

Gwyn and Emerie wouldn’t turn on her, though. Nesta didn’t know how she knew that, only that it was true. As Nesta drove, she told them everything they didn’t already know—starting from the beginning with the murder of their father. Nesta told them how she’d lied to the police for her sister, how it had been her idea to kill two birds with one stone and frame Rhysand. She hadn’t expected to be put in witness protection or she might have decided to take all the money their father had and flee the country instead.

One decision, made by a young, impulsive woman, had cost the three of them so much. Nesta couldn’t bring herself to regret anything that happened, a fact she told her friends while clenching her jaw. Let them see her, she supposed. Calculated and cold when necessary, and willing to make the hard decisions no one else would. Better they knew upfront than to find out later and decide they wanted nothing to do with her.

“So there’s a mobster after your sisters?” Gwyn confirmed, the shotgun now resting in her lap.

“Rhysand will kill Feyre if he finds her,” Nesta lamented, squeezing the steering wheel so violently her knuckles were bloodless. “I knew when Cassian came, but…I figured they hadn’t found her if he was still with me.”

“It sounds like they only have you and Elain,” Emerie reminded the pair, reasonably, sitting in the middle back seat so she could position herself between Nesta and Gwyn. “If we can get to Elain first, we could go to the police and tell them what we know.”

“Did you take his phone?” Gwyn asked.

Nesta sighed. “I didn’t.”

“That’s okay,” Gwyn reassured her, teal eyes hard with determination. “We’ll figure it out while we drive.”

“I’ve never been to Wisconsin,” Emerie added cheerfully.

And that was that, Nesta supposed.

CASSIAN:

“What the fuck do you mean, Nesta Archeron shot you?”

Gritting his teeth, Cassian held a lighter over the wound in his thigh, having already poured alcohol in an attempt to sterilize it. He didn’t have time for a hospital nor the inclination to spend a night hooked up to machines while nurses fussed over him.

“Don’t know how to make it anymore clear, boss,” Cassian snapped, his pain making him mean. “She fucking shot me, she knows who I am, and she’s on the run.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you and Azriel?”

“Enough to fill a textbook probably,” Cassian mumbled, wincing as he rose to his feet. When he got her back he was going to teach her how to aim better. If she’d been going for his heart, she’d failed abysmally. Not that he wanted her to kill him, of course. Cassian wanted Nesta back in his bed even if he had to tie her up to get her there.

“When Az and I are back together, we’ll have fewer problems.”

“You’ve got forty eight hours before to lock this whole thing down,” Rhysand warned. Cassian didn’t need to be told twice. Practically, if Nesta and Elain slipped their leashes, they’d go straight to the cops and it would be hard to deny his involvement this time. At least where their father was concerned, Rhysand was actually innocent—one of the Archerons had killed their father. Cassian’s money was on Elain given her use of the bat against Azriel, though in truth it could have been any one of them. Nesta had a penchant for violence that rivaled her bastard father.

But more realistically, Cassian simply wanted her, reason be damned. If she’d just come to him, he could have reassured her that no one wanted to hurt Elain. Hell, for all Cassian knew, Azriel was in love with her, too. It seemed to be their current curse, after all.

He’d been down fifteen minutes—long enough to give her a moderate head start but not so long Cassian couldn’t easily catch up with her. She’d need to make stops…and she’d taken his jeep. Cassian could track its progress as he slid into Nesta’s smaller coup, leg screaming in pain. At least she hadn’t shot his driving leg, he reasoned before swallowing an ungodly amount of ibuprofen. It would have to do.

The last thing he needed was to get pulled over for being under the influence.

What Cassian really needed was sleep, preferably with Nesta curled up beside him. As he drove, his mind wandered to the sight of her flushed cheeks and shaking hands as she held that gun between them. Was it deranged, he thought, to admit he’d been turned out?

Would she use it in the bedroom, he wondered?

God, he hoped she would. Cassian intended to ask her when he had her back. With the location of his jeep tracking on his phone, Cassian set his course and tried to keep his mind off his leg. Azriel was after Elain, but had promised to help Cassian if they caught up with each other, and it was clear Nesta was headed toward them both. It had been easy enough to guess what she’d sent Azriel and Azriel, frustrated with the situation, hadn’t bothered to ask himself why Cassian would offer to help track Elain’s technology.

As if he knew jack shit about that sort of thing.

There was more than enough time to ruminate on his failures. While Rhys waxed poetic about moving Feyre without her figuring out the truth, Cassian focused on catching up with Nesta. He caught her just outside Bowling Green, Kentucky. She’d brought her friends with her—Gwyn, with her vibrant hair and a shotgun tossed casually in the passenger seat and Emerie, her dark hair pulled off her face in a messy ponytail and flip flops on her feet. They could have been on a road trip.

They weren’t.

Cassian could have dragged Nesta back and killed her friends if he’d wanted to. Watching her outside a truckstop, he weighed the pros and cons of the killings before ultimately deciding against it. Nesta would never forgive him and Cassian didn’t like killing people without a reason. Gwyn and Emerie were innocent—it didn’t sit right with him to take their lives.

Besides—Cassian wanted to see what was going to happen next, Rhysand be damned. Everything was a mess already—if the FBI agent hadn’t already alerted his superiors, well, he would before Cassian crossed into another state. Rhys might come up with some lie that explained what they were doing, but Cassian doubted anyone would believe them.

Might as well enjoy himself.

And trailing Nesta was immensely enjoyable. He liked the way her mind worked. She was logical, picking the most expedient routes and when she stopped, it was always somewhere populated. Somewhere people could hear her scream. Cassian might have liked that, but practically, didn’t want to sit in a holding cell for twenty four hours waiting on a judge.

She’d have to stop eventually, and stop she did a day and a half later in Chicago.

Cassian knew Nesta and her friends were exhausted. They’d traded driving, but he very much doubted any of them were getting quality sleep. Neither was Cassian, truthfully, but he reasoned that he was better at keeping himself up, his instincts sharper.

Azriel was waiting for him when he arrived, his face a mask of sharp, cold fury. “Give up?” “I’m not getting fucking arrested,” Azriel snapped, hands jammed in his well-fitted jean pockets. “What are you doing?”

“Watching,” Cassian replied, nodding his head across the busy intersection where Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn were standing. They hadn’t noticed him, laboring under the belief they’d lost him.

“What happened to your leg?”

Cassian grimaced. “She shot me.”

Azriel’s brow furrowed as he ran a scarred hand through dark, mussed hair. “And she’s alive?”

“I’m bringing her home,” Cassian said, throwing a wink at his exasperated friend. “What’s Elain’s apartment like?”

“A death trap,” Azriel replied without emotion. “They can get in, but they can’t get out.”

“Where’s Morrigan?”

“Ahead of you,” Azriel muttered, whipping his phone out to make a call. It would be easier if they had a third person helping them, and unlike Azriel and Cassian, Mor was cold-blooded in a way that made even Rhys hesitate at times. Cassian watched from his spot behind a street cart selling tourist items as Nesta and her friends jogged toward the towering skyscraper and vanished inside.

Good girl.

Getting her out without causing a scene would be another thing entirely. It was a big city, he reasoned. He’d have Mor park right out front, flashers on, and just dump Nesta in the back before anyone could say anything. He doubted anyone would be racing to rescue her, besides.

Mor arrived in tight jeans and a tank top, blonde hair pulled in a thick, deceptively messy ponytail. Cassian knew her well enough to know she labored over it, every wispy strand placed by Mor’s own immaculate hands.

“What needs cleaned up?” she asked, flashing them both a perfect, white smile.

“Upstairs,” Azriel muttered, beckoning for Mor to follow after him. She was Rhys’s second in command and even Cassian didn’t know everything she did for her cousin. Only that she was called in when shit went south. Things were so far south that they might have been at the equator. Could Mor drag the missing Archeron back, too?

That was Azriel’s problem. All Cassian needed to worry about was Nesta. Trailing behind Mor, the three made their way into the immaculate lobby and Cassian was struck at the incredibly elegant life Elain Archeron appeared to have been living. While Nesta was holed up in rural Georgia, Elain got to live in screaming civilization. It irked Cassian, even as he recognized the solitude had served him well.

Azriel pushed the number thirteen, staring anywhere but at Mor, who was too busy examining her nails to notice how awkward things were. Cassian said nothing because it was none of his business. Something must have happened, though—Azriel wasn’t standing too close, wasn’t shooting furtive glances. And Mor wasn’t using Cassian as a shield like she often did.

Had they talked, then?

Cassian didn’t ask. Instead, he followed Azriel down a blue carpeted hall that smelled like someone's two day old cooking. Azriel pulled a keycard from his pocket and opened the door to find a shotgun waiting for him.

“Not another step, pretty boy,” Gwyn said in that southern drawl of hers.

Behind Az, Mor rolled her eyes.

“You think I’m pretty?” Azriel asked casually, unconcerned with the danger he was in.

“That ain’t a compliment,” Gwyn snapped.

“Sounded like one to me,” Azriel replied smoothly. Cassian and Mor exchanged a glance. Since when did Az engage in witty repartee? “What else do you like?”

“Shut up,” Gwyn ordered, but it was too late. Azriel had the upper hand and they all knew it. With the speed of a man used to being threatened, he wrenched the barrel of the shotgun out of her hands and yanked, pulling both the weapon and the woman into his waiting arms. Gwyn yelped, arms pinned to her side as Az tossed the gun behind him for Mor to pick up.

“Quickly,” she ordered as Cassian swept in. Az hadn’t lied—Elain’s apartment was turned upside down, furniture shoved against the walls for his little traps and cameras. Nesta and Emerie had clearly walked right into one, legs tied to the floor in some contraption that shouldn’t have fascinated him as much as it did.

“Hey, Nes,” he said with a grin.

“Fuck you,” she replied, sweet as ever.

“Are you gonna come with me nicely? Or am I going to have to carry you out?”

“Don’t you touch me,” she warned, answering Cassian’s question all the same. Just beside him, Mor was pulling rags from her bag like they were mints, handing one to Cassian before making her way toward the flailing, fighting Gwyn. Cassian let Nesta watch Mor smush the rag over Gwyn’s face so she knew what was waiting for her.

What he’d do if she didn’t agree to come like his good little girl.

Gwyn went limp against Azriel, who merely scooped her up like she was nothing.

“What do you want to do with the two of them?” Mor asked Cassian, eyes finding a silent, but furious looking Emerie. God—this plan was so off the rails it was almost embarrassing. There was only one thing they could do.

“Take them home,” he said.

“Their home? Or our home?” Mor clarified.

“Ours, for now.” Cassian turned back to Nesta.

“Cass,” she tried, the pretty little liar. “You don’t understand. My sisters, they—” “It’s too late for them,” he said. He wasn’t even a lie. “Rhys has Feyre and Elain is on her way back home. The only hold up is you.”

She shook her head. Nesta was smart not to believe him, even if it irked him deeply. Cassian made his way toward her, trapped by Azriel and unable to do anything but watch.

And slap. The moment he crouched in front of her, Nesta slapped him hard. Her nails raked down his cheek, wounding him just enough to rankle him. He shook his head. “Don’t do that.”

“Let me go.”

“I can’t,” he replied with some regret.

“Make a decision, Cass,” Mor said as she leaned beside Emerie. Emerie didn’t hit, grimacing as Mor brought that rag to her face. “I don’t have all day.”

“You’re a cunt,” Emerie hissed at Mor, who only grinned back.

“I’ve been called worse.”

Mor held the rag to Emerie’s face as Nesta watched, face pale and eyes wide. “Cass,” she whispered.

“Come with me,” he urged, knowing she wouldn’t. Nesta couldn’t. She’d fight him until she decided this was her decision, and then she’d likely fight him a little more. The rest of his life would be a fight—and Cassian wanted it.

“It’s time to go home, baby,” Cassian murmured, pressing a kiss to Nesta’s temple as she tried to wrench away. Putting the rag over her face felt like a betrayal and Cassian had to remind himself that she’d shot him not two days earlier. Mouth to the shell of her ear, he murmured, “We’re even now.”

Hardly, though. Cassian hadn’t held it against her to begin with. Nesta never took her eyes off him, holding her breath until she couldn’t, only to suck in a gasp of poisoned air. It went faster after that, leaving her limp in his arms as Mor undid the traps.

“You’re a bastard for these,” Mor said, looking down at Emerie with an expression Cassian couldn’t quite place.

Azriel onlys shrugged, still holding Gwyn in his arms. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“Come on,” Cassian interrupted, not interested in another argument between the pair. “I’m fucking tired and I want to go home.”

Cassian’s leg was killing him, he was bone weary, and a little afraid of what was coming for him. Either the US government or Rhys—and Cassian didn’t know which scared him more. For now, Cassian was resolved to get her home and hope that Feyre wasn’t far behind.

Elain was already lost. There was no getting her back. The best they could hope for was utter silence as Rhys hunted them down, killed the agent hiding her, and brought her into the fold, too.

But it would take time and right now they were nearly out of it.

And it was time to go home.

#nessian #this might need a fifth chapter lord help me

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fadingplaidlibrary · 1 day

Text

use your words. 💋

pairing: sdv!harvey x gn!reader. SMUT, 18+, minors dni

word count: 643

notes: subby harvey x gentle dom reader. no plot, just horny. reader described as topless, no gender/sex/genitalia specified. harvey uses he/him pronouns, no genitalia specified. no beta or edits, all typos and mistakes are my own etc. i do not consent for my work to be uploaded elsewhere. enjoyyyy <3

harvey wasn't sure which one of you had started it. he remembers the two of you lounging on the couch together, then sliding to the floor with you in a pile of blankets and limbs. he vaguely remembers you teasing him, smiling at him like you were hungry for something... it started with a kiss, didn't it? -- or maybe it started when he slid his fingers under your shirt? -- or when you tugged on his hair, threw the pillows down, maybe then... but here he was now, sitting shirtless on a cushion on the floor between your thighs, his back pressed against your bare chest. he felt like he was floating, or perhaps falling. where were his glasses? and could he be any more sensitive? your hands were just so warm against his still-clothed thighs. you kept kissing and kissing and kissing his neck. how did he get here? how did he get this lucky? how did his hands land on top of yours to guide them - "right there?" just so close, and then- "not yet, baby, shhh..." you murmured the words into his shoulder, and a desperate, whiny kind of noise shuddered through his chest and out of his open mouth. was he panting? "please, i- fuck - more, ple-" your hands massaged at the apex of his thighs, so close to where he needed you, and he gasped. you leaned forward slowly, pressing him upright, and whispered, "stay." he did, of course he did, his eyes soft and unfocused and his lower lip now caught between his teeth. you slowly pressed one gentle kiss after another across his broad shoulders, warm and easy, while your hands wandered across his torso. harvey tried to focus, tried to breathe while the fire under his skin followed your touch, your lips, your blunted nails now ghosting over his chest, lightly combing through the hair there. he was shaking, he was sure his skin was blushed all over, but he stayed put. and when you finally leaned him back against your warm chest again, he turned his head and helped himself to a kiss. "p-please..." he begged oh-so-sweetly. his eyes were closed tight, his whole body trembling in your arms, and you knew what he needed. "please what, my love?" you teased him, kissing the tip of his nose. you didn't plan on teasing him for much longer, but you you couldn't help savoring him. "touch me, please," he whispered, barely audible over the rustle of blankets, the pounding of two heartbeats. you let your thumbs glide across his nipples slowly, agonizingly slowly. his eyes rolled back, his mouth fell open, he looked just... so far gone. "poor thing," you crooned, pressing a kiss to his forehead, all hot to the touch and sheened with sweat, "i am touching you." harvey groaned and pressed his face into the crook of your neck. his own hands grabbed at your bare thighs on either side of his, desperate for more warmth, more touch, more of you. in between rough, shaky breaths, he pressed his lips to your skin, leaving sloppy marks behind with his teeth. harvey knew he'd have to use his words eventually -- and he felt himself throbbing at the thought -- but just for now, he was lost for words, lost in the mess you were making of him. your hands drifted down, just low enough to hook your thumbs in the waistband of his sweatpants, tug them lightly, and let the elastic snap back against his skin. his hips bucked up instinctively, chasing the feeling, as he let out a choked groan. he looked, sounded, smelled desperate, and you were basking in it. you knew what he needed, knew how close he was to falling apart in your arms. but if the good doctor didn't use his words... it was going to be a long night.

#stardew valley #sdv harvey #sdv harvey fanfic #sdv harvey x reader #sdv harvey smut #ven be writing #harvey sdv #harvey stardew valley

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emsgwenstan · 9 hours

Text

Knowing what goes unsaid

(Larissa Weems x fem reader). Angst

Words: 2k? Idk

Warnings: alcohol.

Notes: I haven’t been writing much, I know this isn’t great but I need to post something. Hardly edited so apologies In advance.

She knows. She knows how I feel. She can see it in the way I look at her, the way I gaze at her. She knows that my body magnetises to hers, she knows that the reason I’m always taking off my coat around her isn’t because I’m simply ‘hot’, it’s because of the blush, the constant undeniable blush that kisses my cheeks, gives me away every time I’m in her presence.

She can see it in the way I admire her, constantly, always complimenting her style, her hair, her make up, her nails, her jewellery, her clothes, her perfume, her shoes, all the things I can on the outside, but I wish she could see all the things I see on the inside, her personality, her mind, her sweetness, her stubbornness, her love, her kindness, her wit, her drive and protectiveness, but how do I say say that and not sound like a total freak?

She can be standing on a podium and have everyone whipped, completely in awe of her, wrapped around her little finger…well, she definitely has the effect on me. She can do anything, or perhaps nothing at all and I will still find her the most interesting and important person in a room, sitting in the weathervane just minding her own business, walking in the sunshine every afternoon at 4:30pm on the dot, even if it’s raining or gloomy out she still manages to be outdoors even if it’s only for a short while. I adore her, all of her, every little thing, but I’m not as daft to believe she feels the same.

The first time I realised, the very first moment I came to the conclusion that I didn’t just care for her as a friend, was when I found her at the lake one night, completely wasted, completely exhausted and completely out of it. I didn’t even utter a word, nor did I question the reason of her state, I simply took her cheeks in my palms and stared into her drunken, dazed, piercing, blue eyes, even then as a mess she was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I took her hand in mine, feeling the softness of her touch, feeling her warmth radiating into my own skin. I guided her back to her office, cleaning up a broken glass and disposing of the empty bottles of wine. She stood still as if she would break if she moved, even just a little, tears were threatening to spill from swollen eyes down cold flushed cheeks.

As I returned to her, I grasped the thick cream coat draped over her shoulders and pulled it off, lightly tossing it onto the back of a nearby chair. Stood deadly quiet in front of her, the air of the room was filled with rather loud emotions, her breathing was shallow yet sharp, controlled but unsober. She was tired, she was sad and she was lonely, I reached for her earrings and I unclasped them relieving her of the tension, as well as her necklace, bracelet and watch, cupping the back of her hand I raised it to the space between us and put the jewellery in her palm, a silent plea for her to turn in and go to bed.

As I took the step towards the door, she reached out and stoped me, my wrist was held in a tight grip, that in itself was a plea on her behalf. I saw in her face what she wanted, the expression I will never forget. ‘Please don’t leave’. Is what she conveyed, letting a tear roll down her porcelain skin, stepping back I raised my hand to her face wipped it away, I told her with my own eyes ‘I can’t, I can’t because I won’t leave’. She let go and watched as I walked away.

I wanted to stay, I wanted to show her I’m here, I’ve always been here, but alas my heart couldn’t handle the overwhelming feeling that I can’t have her. Days, weeks, months passed without a single word of that night, but we knew, each and every moment we saw each other from that day it was different, a new understanding, a new appreciation, a safe atmosphere, a distant longing. I know she knows. She can see it in the way I try to avoid her, she can see it in the way I’m softly spoken when addressing her in an almost timid manner.

Next was the rave’in, it was the first time I had ever been so affected by someone’s beauty, as a chaperone I didn’t think I would find much personal enjoyment out of the night, yet when she walked through the doors adorning a slim red dress and elbow length gloves I could have sworn that my heart skipped a beat, I could feel my chest aching, I could feel my soul reaching for her. She looked at me once that whole night, her superficial smile faded and cheeks tinged with a pink hue, I almost missed it due to the low lighting of the hall and once again no words were uttered out loud, but I could tell what she was feeling, I felt it too.

More weeks passed and time slowed, each day dragging on longer taunting me with the fact that my days mean nothing, my mornings, my afternoons, my nights, my lonely, quiet nights. Time knew to, it knew that I yearned for her, it knew that I knew she was also lonely and longing, not necessarily for me, but for someone…anyone. It seems that the lord of dreaming knew too, my restless nights only consisted of her, turns out the waking world is just reality, not dreams, because if they were I’d be awaking to the smell of hot tea and the sweet aroma of her silver spun hair, I’d roll over in silk sheets to find a beautifully bound book held in slender hands with red fingernails carefully spreading the pages open and a woman who was carved from marble blissfully unaware of my drowsy smile.

She is beautiful, she is blithe, she is grace and she is the epitome of all things breathtaking, I don’t just mean the exterior, the facade of professionalism, the mask, I see her, I see her as she is, as she always has been. Today is when she let it slip, her meticulously curated front fell, only a little, but enough for me to see something was wrong, she was breaking. Sitting in the conference room with the entirety of nevermores staff, her shoulders were tense, her brows lightly furrowed and eyes almost unrecognisable without the usual glint of optimism, every time she needed to speak she would swallow hard as if trying to rid a lump in her throat before stuttering out somewhat cohesive responses.

She didn’t want to be there. In fact the second the meeting adjourned she picked up her phone, paperwork and cold coffee cup and made her way back to her office without a glance back at the room. I saw her body sway haphazardly as she reached her large wooden doors, I started to second guess following her, I didn’t know what I was doing, I didn’t know why I felt the need to trail so awkwardly behind her, but something in me needed to make sure she was ok.

When I arrived at her once again closed doors, I raised my fist in the air ready to knock and took a deep breath, what exactly I was readying myself for at the time, I had no idea. Drawing back about to strike the wood with my knuckles a rather frantic student came bolting down the corridor. “Miss y/l/n! Please! There’s a pack of wear wolfs fighting in the quad and you’re the first teacher I found.” A very puffed Enid Sinclair breathed out.

I turned on the spot, immediately she lead the way, I could see over the railing the four boys who were tackling each other in the mud, seems that a down pour took place when in the meeting. Running down the stairs in a hurry, I told her to stay under shelter and not risk getting involved, a look of warning was given to all surrounding students as they watched the commotion. A deep breath. “Hey!” I shouted, only one of the boys looked to see who it was. Then and there I took it upon myself to do what I just said not to, get involved.

I marched into the rain and b-lined to the commotion. “Stop it, for god sake!” At this point I was just blatantly annoyed, putting myself in the line of fire I reached out and pulled two of the boy’s shirt collars and ripped them apart standing between the two. “Pull yourselves together! Your parents don’t pay your tuition for you to pull this crap!” I yelled. I stepped past the two and stood in front of the next boys who were still, pathetically might I add, punching on. I didn’t say a word, but quickly did they stop.

A stern expression was sent their way and the looks I received in return were nothing short of apologetic and anxious glances, they all know what’s to come, however I can’t be bothered to make a mess of the rest of the day. “Shower, Dinner and dorm. Do you all understand?” I asked the boys, nods and ‘yes Miss’s, erupted quietly and quickly before they scurried off to their appointed tasks. “Back to the dining hall, now.” I said to all the other lurking kids.

It’s really starting to pour down, the morning sunshine completely gone and replaced with cold showers and gloomy skies. Seeing I’m already soaked to the bone i thought I may as-well take a moment to enjoy it, except when I raised my head, I saw her, hands clamped to the railing, a somewhat frightened look on her face and the realisation that she’d been seen. I stared at her, I could see in her eyes that she was torn, even from this far away.

She whipped around and sauntered away. I know she knows. I didn’t waste time, I trudged back through the mud and made it to the stairs, after taking a few steps I removed my shoes and carried them the rest of the way, every hurried step along the freezing stones, was another step closer to her. The second I made it to her office I dropped my shoes and opened the door without knocking.

She was there. Her back turned towards me staring out the large window behind her desk, her head bowed slightly and hands hugging onto her torso. I stood rooted in place dripping wet and heavily breathing. “Larissa.” I said quietly, her head raised and arms dropped to her side, she peered over her shoulder to glance at me, her body following, turning to fully gaze at me.

‘Please’.

I didn’t take my eyes off hers. Not even when she took a step and a step back, second guessing herself. Not even when she finally decided to let go and stride directly towards me, not until she reached to my face with her warm hands and kissed me. I know she knows. She knows… that I know.

“I love you.”

———

@sabraaabra

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #principle weems #wednesday #gwenchrist(ie)#larissa weems x y/n #larissa x reader #wlw fanfic #larissa weems x reader

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coolshadowtwins · 1 day

Text

EDIT: This is a repost from a few days ago, because I hated the fact it was hidden for no reason.

Ok, here’s the first of my stupid JJK fanfic concepts.

The first one was ‘fix it’, for a relative use of the word, where Suguru, after killing the village, does call Satoru for help. He doesn’t know really what kind of help he’s asking for, or even what Satoru could provide, but he is being the bigger person here by asking, right?

It was supposed to be a comedy where Satoru and Shoko scramble around, trying to cover up what Suguru had done. Suguru is not actively helping it this. He’s been convinced to maybe not go and kill all the non-sorcerers, for the twins he had rescued to have a good life at least. But he won’t lie about what he did if someone gets too close to ask, and the twins love the fact they were saved by him and want to brag whenever they could. Satoru and Shoko have to make up so many lies.

Yaga: What happened to the village?!

Suguru: Huh? Oh I kil-

Satoru: -killed the curse! Nasty thing it was, setting the town a blaze and then blowing it up. There’s not even a house left.

Yaga:…. The damage looks like your red attack, Satoru.

Satoru: What? No. What? Ha! No. I wasn’t even there!

Yaga: Then how do you know the houses are gone?

Satoru: …. I read.

It ended up not really funny enough for me? And I also didn’t have much of an idea of how to continue it. Under the cut is what little I had lol

It started with a phone call in the middle of an empty town.

Well, actually, it started a few days before that, with a conversation in an empty classroom.

“You’re back early.” Suguru noted with dull surprise as Satoru walked in. ‘Dull’ seemed to be the only way he felt now a days, and looking at Satoru, he would guess the other boy felt the same way, with how exhaustion seemed to cling to him.

Still, Satoru managed to smile at him, much brighter than Suguru had been capable of lately. “Hey, Suguru!” He said, falling with all his weight in the chair meet to him. The chair tilted back at the force before falling back to all fours. “The higher ups messed up on the ranking of the last curse they sent me to.”

Suguru hated the flash of fear he felt, the most realized emotion he has had in what felt like months, even though he knew nothing would harm Satoru. “Oh?” He asked, in a calm that he didn’t actually feel. Satoru laughed. It didn’t sound like an actual laugh, almost grating against his throat.

“Oh yeah.” He huffed. “A grade 2. They sent me after a grade 2, Suguru! I don’t even have the words to express how outraged and offended I am right now.”

He didn’t sound outraged and offended. He just sounded tired. Still, Suguru settled in, waiting for the rant from his friend that was inevitably coming.

Except, Satoru didn’t. Satoru fell quiet, looking him up and down from behind his glasses.

“I skipped out on sightseeing to maybe catch you before your next mission.” He said. Suguru looked at him in surprise, and maybe a little pleased. Still, Satoru didn’t look happy. “I didn’t mean to get back so late, so imagine my surprise to find you in an empty classroom in the middle of the night.”

“Huh?”

“Suguru.” Wow, he had never heard Satoru sound so disapproving. “Suguru, it’s three am. And you’re sitting in an empty classroom. What’s wrong?”

What wasn’t wrong? Somehow Suguru didn’t Satoru would appreciate that answer.

Also, he hadn’t realized the time. He had sat in there to take a break before going to get dinner, having to work up the nerve to enter the admittedly pretty sparse cafeteria area.

“…Haibara thinks I’m a good person.” Suguru said at last, unable to help himself. Satoru looked at him in surprise, glasses sliding down his nose.

“Uh?” He tilted his head with a frown. “Well, duh. Course he does. That’s because you are a good person, Suguru.”

Suguru had nothing to say to that. Satoru’s frown deepened as the silence stretched on.

“…. Suguru?” He asked almost hesitantly, as if Satoru Gojo was ever hesitant in anything. “Do you… feel like you aren’t a good person?”

He shouldn’t talk about this. He shouldn’t bring it up. He shouldn’t even think about it. But his best friend was here, in reach, in a way that he hadn’t been in a while.

“I think… I think I hate them, Satoru.” He said hoarsely. Satoru paused.

“Eh? Who?”

“Them. The-The Mon-“ Suguru cleared his throat, looking away. “…the non-sorcerers.”

Satoru leaned back in his seat. “Oh.” He said quietly, like he was surprised. He didn’t say anything more.

“Didn’t you feel like this?” Suguru asked desperately. “Last year? When-“

He cut off. Last year, when Suguru found his not dead best friend carrying Riko’s lifeless body, looking at him with equally lifeless eyes, while all those-those cult members just clapped around them at a young girl’s death.

‘Should we kill them all?’ Satoru had asked him. Suguru had answered ‘no’ at the time, but now-

This time, it’s Satoru that goes silent, staring at him for a long moment. “….not really.” He admitted after a while. Suguru gulped, his curses burning in his stomach like acid. “I didn’t feel really anything last year, when I asked. I was pretty out of it. I don’t… think I could actually hate anyone.” He sighed, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “That sounds exhausting to care that much, honestly.”

“Oh.” Suguru said, quietly, and then nothing else. Satoru didn’t let the silence settle this time, leaning forward with a sudden burst of energy.

“Ok!” He clapped his hands, the noise echoing in the empty room. “So you hate them! Let’s put a pin in that for the moment!” He smiled, a little stretched thin, and made a motion with his hands like he was pinning something to a cork board.

Suguru frowned, Yuki’s voice circling in his head. This did not feel like something he should ‘put a pin in’ right now. This felt like he should figure it out as soon as he could, to let one side win out before it tore him apart. “Satoru I-“

“Nope!” Satoru, the annoyance, put up a hand to silence him. “It is much too late for this! So, Haibara thinks you’re a good person, and you do not agree. What do you want to do about that?”

“I thought we were ‘putting a pin in it’. “ Suguru grumbled, crossing his arms. Satoru shook his head.

“You miss understand me!” He huffed. “It’s like you never listen! I know you, Suguru. Ignoring all this ‘hating non-sorcerers’ crap, there’s something else bothering you, right?”

Eh? Honestly, not really. The ‘hating non-sorcerers’ thing was taking up a large amount of his daily bandwidth.

But he could see what Satoru was aiming for- something else to focus on. When the main problem was too much, then let something else be the problem for a bit. It was a tactic usually used on Satoru himself, or Shoko on occasion when her medical classes got too much, but this was the first time it had been used on Suguru himself. It took him a minute to think past his bigger issues as a result, so far out of his comfort zone as he was.

Finally, he settled on, “Fine. I’m worried about Haibara, but it’s finally my own downtime and I’m exhausted. Not only that, but now you’re here, and we never get to hang out anymore.”

“Huh? Worried about Haibara?” Satoru sighed. “Yeah, the higher ups are shit about curse classification. And Haibara’s just a second year too.”

“We’re just third years.” Suguru felt compelled to say. Satoru laughed like he told some great joke, which maybe he did. He was only 17, but he hadn’t felt like a kid in a long time.

After a long moment of nothing but the sound of Satoru’s laughter, he calmed down, leaning forward on his knees as he took deep breaths. Then, he stood up, stretching as he did so. “Well then. Come on.”

“What?” Suguru hurried to stand up as well, to catch up to Satoru as he walked out the classroom door. “Where are we going?”

“To go check on Haibara, of course.” Satoru said, like it was obvious.

“Uh, no? Did you not listen to me?” Suguru asked, closing the door behind them. “I said that I was exhausted and that it was my off day!”

“And that you wanted to spend time with me. I heard you, I swear!” Satoru said, waving a hand. “But considering I found you at three am in an empty classroom, I’m going out on a limb here and saying that you won’t be sleeping tonight.”

Suguru didn’t have anything to say to that. Satoru kept talking, regardless of his lack of answer.

“So, let’s be productive and check on our little Kōhai! We only have two of those, so we gotta protect what we got!”

“Nanami will never like you.”

“Rude! Also probably true.” Satoru laughed, this time sounding much more genuine. “So, look. Well sleep on the train, and then hang out in town after checking on Haibara. And being out means that we can’t be assigned missions all willy nilly!”

They absolutely could. They had cell phones for a reason, and Yaga had their numbers. But Suguru could see the appeal to thinking otherwise, so he didn’t argue.

Satoru then threw something over his shoulder, forcing Suguru to catch it. “Here, catch.”

Suguru opened his hand slowly, falling into step with Satoru as they walked through the empty halls. It was a hair tie- more specifically, it was Suguru’s favorite hair tie, that he thought he had lost ages ago. He frowned, even as he reached up to pull his hair into a bun.

“Why are you stealing my hair ties?” He asked, making quick work of his hair with practiced movements. “What, want little space buns in your hair?”

“Hah! I would rock that and you know it!” Satoru said, hands in his pockets. “I just found that one, you know? And then I thought it would be a good luck charm!”

“That’s so lame.” Suguru rolled his eyes.

“I don’t think so.” Satoru said, with a hum. “I found you tonight, didn’t I?”

Suguru didn’t have an answer to that, and so he stayed silent.

———-

In the middle of a lifeless town of his own doing, Suguru called Satoru.

He was only half aware he was doing it. Standing in the middle of the street with only the half eaten corpses of his victims, and the groaning of his curses swirling around him, he was moving more on autopilot than anything else. Everything seemed both hazy and incredibly clear for the first time in a while, like he was no longer fighting himself but also having a major fucking breakdown.

He had a problem, and so he did the only thing he could think of- calling Satoru. Maybe he shouldn’t be doing this, dragging Satoru in his actions, in his consequences. Maybe he should have done this ages ago, asking Satoru to fix his problems like everyone else in their world seemed too. The thought left a rotten taste in his mouth, somehow even worse than the curses he ate.

A large part of him didn’t actually expect Satoru to pick up. Satoru rarely could answer when he was out on a mission, the veils doing too good of a job in cutting communications, and often forgot to return the missed calls later. So Suguru listened to the ringing once, twice, three times, waiting for the dial tone to start as he watched one of his curses slowly make its way to a body blankly.

Then the ringing went one for a fourth time, then a fifth, before being interrupted by an unexpected click and, “Hey, Suguru!”

Suguru’s mouth felt dry. The curse in front of him reached the body. He didn’t have the care to stop it from sinking its half formed claws into it.

“I got told you were on a mission.” Satoru continued. “Already done?”

Yes. Curse exorcised, curse ingested, village dead. Two out of three things weren’t bad.

“….Suguru?” Satoru’s voice turned confused, sounding almost small over the phone. “Is this a butt dial?”

Oh, right. He should probably answer.

“Can you even hear me-?” Satoru started to asked, only to be cut off.

“I killed everyone in town.” Suguru said bluntly. He finally shooed the curse away from the corpse once it started making a mess. He wanted no chance for any more monkey blood to get on him.

“….huh?” Satoru asked, more of an intake of air than an actual question. “Come, uh, come again? What village?”

“The village I was sent to.” Suguru answered simply, and then wondered why he was doing this. Why did he call Satoru, as if that would help anything.

“Ok, can I ask why?”

“Those monkeys had two girls in a cage, blaming them for what was happening.” Some of the anger came back, remembering what the monkeys had done, and he let his curses go back to the destruction they had been causing. It still didn’t cut through the haze as much as add to it, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about something like that.

“Ah. The pin fell out.” Satoru said, much, much to calm for the situation. Was he in as much of a haze as Suguru? Unlikely. Actually, was this how Satoru felt last year, after killing Fushiguro, standing there surrounded by monkeys clapping for a young girl’s death? Satoru had said that he hadn’t felt much of anything, and maybe Suguru felt like that too. Or maybe Suguru was simply feeling too much, no longer at odds with himself but still drowning in emotion.

“-killed everybody?” Satoru’s voice filtered back in. Suguru blinked, not realizing that he had zoned out, and taking a step back in disgust as some blood splattered onto his shoes.

“The two girls.” He answered, in what he vaguely hoped was an actual answer to whatever Satoru had asked. “I saved them.”

“You certainly did something.” Satoru muttered, voice muffled. Suguru could almost see what he was doing- running around, doing something else while his cell phone was shoved between his ear and his shoulder. Then, clearer, Satoru said, “Suguru, listen, I’ll be there in just a second. Just… don’t do anything else, ok? Put the pin back for a minute.”

“The pin-?” Suguru tried to question, only to be met with the dial tone. He made a face, half heartedly, and slid his phone shut. He couldn’t believe the asshole hung up on him-

The air shook. Suguru held his breath, almost unconsciously, as the cursed energy of the town seemed to spark, dancing around him in ways that made his curses go haywire. There was almost a faint taste of ozone on his tongue, familiar, before everything snapped violently back into place, just like it had been.

Just like it had been, except for Satoru standing there, panting like he had overextended himself. Suguru blinked, mildly interested.

“You figured out how to do that?” He asked. Satoru’s head snapped over to him, like he hadn’t noticed him standing there before, as his breathing got under control.

“Not really.” He said with a half grin, obviously wanting to brag about his new abilities, even as his head tilted to the side to take in the mess Suguru’s curses have left. “This was my first time going so far. But you know what they say- Necessity breeds intervention!”

“I didn’t know you knew that saying.” Suguru answered easily, feeling both more grounded now that Satoru was there, and more out of control at the banter in the middle of a massacre. “You can actually read.”

Satoru pouted, forced, as he walked over. He avoided the bodies and blood easily. Suguru was a little jealous, the monkey blood starting to cool on his clothes.

“So mean Suguru!” He whined, glasses slipping down his nose as he gave him a once over. Satoru made a face. “You look like shit, and it’s not just the blood. When was the last time you slept?”

When was the last time he slept? He couldn’t think of the answer, but he didn’t want to tell Satoru that. He opted to say nothing, which actually might have been the worse thing to do, judging by the expression it caused.

“The fact that you won’t say is terrifying.” Satoru said, pushing his glasses back up. “Was it before this mission.”

Definitely.

“….before Haibara’s mission?” Satoru asked a bit more hesitantly, when Suguru stayed quiet. Suguru still didn’t answer, but that didn’t stop Satoru from looking frustrated and dismayed. “Oh my god. Suguru, what the fuck. No wonder you snapped and killed this village.”

“The monkeys deserved it.” He grumbled, looking away. He didn’t need to justify himself again- Satoru knew why he did it, why he had to do it. Satoru sighed.

“I told you to keep a pin in that!” He snapped, making that same stupid motion of placing a pin in something that he made a few days prior. “Whatever. Where are these girls?”

The two girls (that he still didn’t know the name of, fuck) were safe in a bed in the inn. The same inn where he had checked into what felt like years ago, but was in all honestly simply the night before. Before… everything. He pointed over to it, seeing Satoru follow his finger to the building. It was the most he could do, energy failing him now that someone else was there to take over.

One by one, the curses around them disappeared, going back inside of him as he lost the concentration to keep them out. He could tell Satoru noticed, judging by the way he looked around.

“Suguru.” He looked down, staring as Satoru reached forward to grab his hand. “This is very important. Did you ever tell the school about the curse from Haibara’s mission?”

He shook his head slowly, confused. There had been no time to do so. They had gotten to where Haibara’s mission was just in time to knock the younger boy out of the way from what had been probably a killing move, and then exorcised the curse quickly, in a way that Nanami and Haibara’s simply weren’t capable of. One hit of Red from Satoru and the curse was easy pickings for Suguru to eat, as much as he didn’t want to. When the four of them made it back to the campus, Yaga had new missions for him and Satoru immediately. Suguru never got around with telling anyone about the new curse.

(He briefly thought about the train ride home, with Haibara’s hero worship awkwardly directed at them, and Nanami’s mutterings about just leaving everything to him and Satoru, instead of risking their own lives. Suguru’s mouth felt dry again.)

#jjk #gojo satoru #geto suguru

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rejectedbytheempty · 4 hours

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Hey could you write something about older Ghost with a younger curvy wife, and potentially having sons together (only if you’re comfortable with that). Rn I’m obsessed with dilf Simon living his domestic best life lol

okay, so i have no clue why this took me so long. anyways, forgive me, i’ve never written for ghost before so most definitely will be ooc. also kind of a newer writing style for me, let me know if it sucks balls or not !!

When you first met Simon, it was at a bar. Your eye had been drawn to the big, hulking man with a skull mask nursing a glass of whiskey. It surprised you that when you went up to talk to him, he was a blushing and stuttering mess. He stumbled over his words, accidentally spilling his drink all over you when he went to shake your hand. He apologized profusely and immediately went to take off his shirt so you didn’t have to wear a bourbon stained top. It was only after you blushed and turned away that he realized just what he did. He looks back on that memory with a grimace but you love telling it because you knew you found the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

After a few weeks of dating you, his team had noticed a difference in his demeanor, he was.. happy? It took constant jabs from Johnny and Gaz’s puppy dog eyes for him to finally come clean. Pulling out a picture of you made all of their jaws drop. Johnny immediately asked “What’s that bonnie little thing doing with you?” But after a slap to the head by Price, Soap shut up. Simon pretended like it didn’t bother him, like he hadn’t already thought that himself. A couple of days later, he tried to break up with you. For your own good, he had too much baggage, and he was older than you. He would ruin your life, he decided. Too bad you didn’t agree, practically slapping him upside the head like Price did to Soap. That was when Ghost well and truly fell in love with you.

A year later, he proposed. You had said yes, of course. The hardest part had been pretending to be surprised. It wasn’t hard to figure it out when he was shaking like a leaf all throughout your fancy dinner. Then, on your wedding day, he was the same nervous ball of energy. It took a talk from Price to get him to calm down. It was a small ceremony, but you both preferred it that way, it was more intimate. By the time you both got to your vows, both of you were crying, choking on your words to the point where you just moved on to the kiss. After the ceremony, Simon swept you up into a bridal carry. He was able to pick you up with ease, which you never got over, even after all this time. As he carried you down the aisle, he was only looking at you, his brown eyes glinting with tears through his balaclava.

Simon was gone for long periods of time on deployment, but when he came back to you, he was all over you. Constantly at your back, grabbing at your curves and burying his face into your neck. He loved spoiling you, constantly buying you things, whether you liked it or not. Even if you mention something in passing, it’ll be on the dining table with breakfast the next morning. When Simon is away for his missions, you guys send letters back and forth. Sometimes you include little pictures of yourself, some more raunchy than others. One time while Gaz was looking for Ghost, he found those letters sitting out on a desk, including the pictures. Gaz turned beet red when Simon walked in, muttering apologies in a squeaky voice before running out of the room.

It had been about six months since your wedding when you found yourself bent over the toilet. One positive pregnancy test later and Simon was pacing around the room. He hadn’t expected it to happen this quick, he wasn’t sure if he was ready. Panic seized him, images of his father flashed in his mind. It took you coaxing him to the bed and rubbing soothing circles on his back for him to calm down. You had reassured him that he wasn’t his father, that he was an amazing husband and would be an amazing father. Simon sat there for a moment and then put his hand to your stomach, leaning down to touch his forehead to yours. You were right, as always, and he would be there every step of the way, for you, and for your child.

#older bf simon riley #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #plus size!reader #ghost x plus size!reader #ps!reader

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ghostboneswrites2 · 2 days

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A Mess - Volume 2

Part 4

Summary: Pregnancy & Birth 🤰

Warnings: profanity, pregnancy, birth, fears of pregnancy/birth related death

Chapter List

all banner credits on the masterlist

Daryl paced anxiously around the room as you waited for the results. It had been four weeks since he irresponsibly came inside you, which you told him would probably be the bare minimum amount of time it took for a test to detect the pregnancy hormones.

To make the situation even more stressful, he had to get you to Alexandria in order to get a test, which meant not only did he have to face the people he’d been avoiding for the past six years — but they also knew you might be pregnant.

It wasn’t too hot in the little room, but he was sweating bullets as his mud caked boots left little brown shapes all over the previously clean floor. His mind was racing with thoughts and scenarios. How was he supposed to be a father when he’d never had a good one himself? Would your pregnancy be safe and healthy? Would you survive delivery?

He’d have to pack up camp and move you both to one of the communities if the test was positive. He couldn’t make you live in the woods in that state.

Would you be mad at him? For doing this to you? Sure, it takes two to tango, but he didn’t mean to take it this far. Was it too late to ask for termination? Was that even possible anymore? Was he allowed to ask? What if you died? What if you—

“Alright. I used two tests to be sure.” Siddiq announced as he stepped into the room, halting Daryl’s incessant pacing.

“Well, what’d they say?” Daryl asked impatiently.

“The first one was positive.” He informed you both. Daryls face seemed to drain of color.

“And the second one?” You asked.

“Negative.” Siddiq sighed.

“Well what the hell does that mean?!” Daryl groaned.

“Could mean anything, really. I suggest coming back in a week and testing again.”

So that’s what you did. A week later you were back, bladder full, ready to pee in a cup and hand it over.

When Siddiq came back into the room, he was grinning. You sighed. You knew what those kinds of grins meant.

“Oh no.” You mumbled.

“Oh yes.” Siddiq nodded. “Two positive tests. When did you say you believe you conceived?”

“Five weeks ago.” You told him.

“I’d like to see you every two weeks if that’s okay.”

When you looked over at Daryl for his input he was frozen in place. He was pale and sweaty and his fists were balled up tightly at his sides.

“Two weeks is fine.” You smiled thinly at Siddiq before saying your goodbyes and dragging Daryl outside. “Stay with me, man. Are you okay?” You snapped your fingers in front of his distant eyes. He blinked at looked at you.

An overwhelming range of emotions was creeping in on him. He wanted to laugh and cry and scream, maybe throw a few punches while he was at it. He gulped and looked around at the bustle of Alexandrians going about their daily lives. Panic set in. He had to go. He had to get out of there.

“C’mon.” He ordered as he grabbed your hand tightly and stormed toward the gates.

“Daryl, can you stop?” You complained as you dragged your feet.

“Jus’ c’mon.” He urged as he tugged you onward.

Outside the gates, once he’d gotten deep enough into the trees, he let go of your hand and began pacing back and forth.

“Daryl?”

“Just hold on!” He snapped. How could he process anything with you staring at him like that? He just needed a minute.

You sighed and turned away from him, finding a nice log to sit on while he walked himself through a meltdown. Eventually the stopped and stomped over to you.

“So what do we do?” He asked, surprisingly calm.

“We… Go home?” You suggested.

“That’s it? You’re p—“ He stopped himself before he could say the word. No, saying it out loud would be too real.

“Pregnant? Yeah. I was there.” You blinked. “Are you gonna be okay? I mean with all this?”

“I’m fine.” He snapped. “I just need to think. We need a plan.”

He shook his hands down at his sides and started pacing again.

“We have nine months to make a plan.” You assured him.

“That ain’t enough time!”

“It will be!” You argued. “We just have to—“

“Have to what?! I ain’t never had no baby before! I don’t know how to be a father!”

“Well fuck, neither have I!” You shot back. “We can figure it out. Together.”

Your outburst seems to calm him down some. Suddenly he was reminded that he wasn’t alone in his terror.

“‘M sorry.” He mumbled after he took a few breaths.

“It’s okay. Come on. Let’s get home.”

That night at the camp, you didn’t have much of an appetite. Your nerves had really begun to set in. Pregnancy was a lot scarier in a world without hospitals and epidurals. When you were pregnant before, with Shane, it was scary, but you were able to trust the doctors and their equipment to do their respective parts. As much as you trusted Siddiq and Enid, you were terrified that they wouldn’t have the means to help you if you needed it.

“Not hungry?” He asked you as he picked and prodded at his own food.

“Not really.” You shrugged, setting down the tin can you were eating from. He set his down too and nodded.

“Me neither.” He admitted.

“Are you okay?” You asked him. He nodded again.

“I will be. I gotta be.” He assured not only you, but himself.

“You know, I’ve never carried a pregnancy to full term. I’ve only been pregnant that one time, and I told you what happened then.”

“It’ll be alright. Whatever happens. I’ll be here.”

Months went by before the two of you decided to move back to Alexandria. Your bump was showing and your ankles were always swollen. The morning sickness had finally subsided, at least. Still, you were uncomfortable a majority of the time.

Judith and RJ often hung around you and Daryl. Judith was excited for a baby. It was strange to gush over baby names with a girl who you knew when she was an infant. Even stranger gushing over baby names with a girl who was fathered by your ex and birthed by his mistress.

Still, you liked her. She was sweet and smart and didn’t take any shit. You enjoyed her company more often than not.

“What about Lilly?” She thought.

“Eh. Too plain.” You shook your head.

“Dang. I’m out of names.” She groaned.

“What about Dahlia?” Daryl asked from the other couch, where he’d been sharpening arrows through out the conversation. He surprised you. You didn’t think he was tuned in at all.

“Dahlia.” You repeated. You liked the sound of it.

“Where’d you hear that?” Judith asked.

“Dunno.” He shrugged. “A movie, I think. Always thought it had a nice ring to it.”

“It’s pretty.” You agreed. “What if it’s a boy?”

“Rufus!” Judith exclaimed with a giggle. You laughed and shook your head.

“Like the rat?”

“What rat?” Judith tilted her head.

“You’ve never seen Cinderella?” You asked.

“No. But I’ve heard of it. She was a princess. Right?”

“Oh man.” You shook your head and looked over to Daryl, who only raised his eyebrows, clearly not on the same page. “We’re gonna have to find you some Disney movies, kiddo. The classics. Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, Sleeping Beauty… Too many to remember.”

“The Lion King.” Daryl added.

“Oh, that was the first one I watched when I was a kid. And Bambi!” You snapped your fingers as more memories of Disney movie nights flooded your mind.

“Hell, we had Bambi for dinner the other night.” Daryl joked. You gasped.

“Daryl!” You scoffed as you tossed a throw pillow at his head, which he swatted away before it could hit him.

The next time Daryl went on a run, he stopped at a little pawn shop and found some movies for Judith and RJ. Finding Nemo, The Lion King, a few princess movies, and a few he’d never heard of, but they seemed cool for a kid.

Every time Judith would watch one with her brother, she’d find you and gush about the Prince Charming or all the catchy songs she liked. You were glad to give her some reminiscence of a childhood. It gave you hope for your own child.

One day, RJ asked you if you’d ever seen Shrek.

“Have I? It was one of my favorites.” You told him.

“I think it is my favorite.” He’d say with a grin. So, you’d watch it together sometimes, or whatever Judith put on.

Time seemed to fly by in those last months of pregnancy. You were pretty sure you slept at least half of it away. When your water broke and the contractions started, you were just as frantic as Daryl.

“W-what do I do?!” He’d ask, hands held out as if he didn’t know where to put them.

“Fuck if I know!” You’d whine between contractions and deep breaths. “Find Siddiq!”

The labor was long and exhausting. Oh, and painful. You’d never experienced pain like that in your life. You blacked out at one point, right when the baby came. You honestly thought you had died for a moment.

By that time, word had traveled to all your closest friends. Carol made sure to be there, and so did Judith. The guys, aside from Siddiq and Daryl, had to wait outside.

Daryl spent the whole time trying not to pass out, Carol at his side talking him through the process. He was the first to hold the baby. She was a girl.

When you came to, he passed her to you immediately. You smiled down at the little thing you created, brushing your finger down the length of her little nose.

“Dahlia.” You whispered to her. “Welcome to the world.”

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix @superbowlisgay @liizzygrant

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl x female reader #daryl twd #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x you #daryl x y/n

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eliteseven · 14 hours

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Did Serena and Shadowheart follow the same romantic arc as in the game (first kiss at the party, making things official after Gauntlet, first time at the beach, etc)? Or did it go entirely differently? Who fell first for the other? How did the other companions react? We know there have been a few "bumps" here and there, like the life expectancy talk, or Shads just being a gremlin early on lmao, but how are things between them overall (before full domesticity life at the cottage, which they 100% deserve 😭)?

I love them both so much and i'm simply obsessed with how you write them, thank you for sharing that with us 🙏🙏

AHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH 💕 I put a lot of love into writing them, I’m THRILLED you love them too!! 🥰 thank you for the sweet words, week made!!!

For ease of reading (bc damn I started and did NOT shut up lol), I’ll detail their journey under the cut: (with a few screenies) 😊

I used the game’s romantic arc to structure the basis of their relationship- so all these events did happen, though I’ve messed with the timeline a little.

-their relationship is contentious at first. When Serena finds out she’s a worshipper of Shar- it’s obviously a little jarring, despite the honesty. She trusts Shadowheart about as much as Astarion, fangs and all. Shadowheart (besides being a gremlin in general at first lol) thinks Serena is probably the easiest to manipulate in the group (her other options are Astarion and Lae’zel- and those are non starters). She mistakes Serena’s kindness for naivety, I think. Serena is…exhausted by all these…unique…personalities 💀 she has a worm in her head and a very opinionated Sharran in her ear

-Still, they exchange some not so subtle stares at camp, their first couple of evenings together. Shadowheart pretends not to look at Tav when she insists on sparring with Lae’zel to stay sharp. Tav pretends not to look when Shadowheart comes out in her haute couture Sharran full body lingerie 😭 they both fail miserably!! The constant thirsting/staring game begins!!

-I actually think Shadowheart falls first. She intended to simply use Tav to get rid of the worm. She didn’t count on Tav being so…good 🫠

-When Astarion bites Tav- it’s Shadowheart who reacts most viscerally. Everyone thinks it’s just her threatening to stake a vampire for her own safety, but…she’s jealous!!!

-when they meet Wyll, (not the first time for Tav!)- he accidentally outs her as a member of one of the patriar families of Baldur’s Gate. He’s happy to see a familiar face, but…Cue the ridicule from those who think she’s a soft ass noble playing dress up as a knight. Shadowheart and some of the others are downright mean about it. Still, Shadowheart takes note of her prowess during the fight outside the grove. She’s interested, now. Then Tav goes on to give all she has to the Tiefling kids and joins Wyll on teaching them to fight. Shadowheart starts to see her priorities and…likes them secretly 😭

-They find themselves drawn to each other, regardless. When Shadowheart shows true fear before a wolf, it’s Tav who steps in front of her and gently tugs her away. During long walks, she and Tav often find themselves side by side. Tav doesn’t pry- but her stoicism fades with time. She tells Shadowheart little stories of her time in Cormyr. Shadowheart, in turn, begins to confide in her. They sit together at the camp fire. They don’t touch, just yet. But the longing is building. Still, Shadowheart isn’t afraid to let her hear it when she disagrees- and boy, do they squabble.

-Shadowheart doesn’t intervene when Tav is whipped for Loviatar’s blessing or w/e- like I mentioned before, that breeds resentment. Tav is getting whiplash from Shadowheart. Sometimes she’s so sweet, so soft…and then she reverts back to cruelty, taking pleasure in others’ pain. She heals Tav’s wounds, and feels guilty. She’s realizing Tav is not a simple amusement, to be discarded right after use. She has…real feelings for her 😅 she’s drawn to Tav’s kindness and wants to return the favor, and this puts her at odds with Shar’s teachings

-The party is still their first kiss and first “date” if you will. Shadowheart plays coy but appreciates Serena remembering so much about her. She’s…touched, as much as she is attracted.

-At this point, they’re something of a fledgling couple. The group knows, of course- but Shadowheart does NOT entertain Tav publicly. They’re flirting, stealing kisses behind tents, taking long walks together at night, anything away from prying eyes. Shadowheart doesn’t want anybody questioning her faith…Shar included. Still, Shadowheart wants Tav all to herself. She doesn’t like when the other members of the group cozy up to her. She’s conflicted.

-the push into the Shadow Cursed lands puts a little distance between them. When Shadowheart is all ecstatic about Shar protecting her from the curse, Serena points out that she isn’t protected, along with the others. Shads hits her with “you’re resourceful, you’ll figure it out” 😅. That hurts, a lot- given their new relationship. her obsession with Shar frightens Tav to an extent, but she understands Shadowheart is indoctrinated. It’s hard to reconcile how sweet she is in one moment , with how cruel she can be in the next. Tav tells Shadowheart she feels her pulling away. Shadowheart agrees.

-The trials and their conclusion absolutely wreck Shadowheart, of course. Shar has abandoned her. In her hour of need, at her lowest point- Tav tells her how proud she is 🥹💕 she swears to Shadowheart that she may not have Shar, but she will always have her, if that’s what she wants. Shadowheart hasn’t known unconditional love like this before. She wants Tav fully, she’s tired of denying herself happiness.

-The night on the beach is their first time sleeping together. I considered changing this in the timeline- but I think it works beautifully. Shadowheart is genuinely frightened to be swimming- she would only do that with someone she was truly in love with.

-from there, they’re quite public about their relationship. Shadowheart changes her look to reflect her new lot in life. Tav adores it, adores her. Shadowheart softens. It’s a lot more domestic and sweet. This would pretty much put them around the beginning of act 3, give or take! Tav risks everything with Shadowheart to get her parents back. Things are really looking up for them 🥰

This brings us to the point where the NLS series picks up!

#nls series #oc: serena tavyndír #shadowheart x tav #ask #anonymous #bg3 #bg3 spoilers

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bitchthefuck1 · 2 years

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Literally don't even know why I care so much about shades of london, I'm fully aware that it's like mid-tier YA at best and there are a lot of flaws and inconsistencies in the plot and storytelling, but something about it makes my brain go brrr

#like if I'm being fully and completely honest with myself I'd probably care a lot less if it actually finished in 2018 or whenever the last #book was originally set to come out (esp if the last book had some of the same weird pacing issues and mess that book 3 did) but since i #never got a conclusion to the story it just sits in my head unresolved for me to fixate on #a lot of it is also just rory being a way more compelling and stylistically interesting narrator than like 90% of ya protagonists and i #read it when i was like 14 and starved for something more compelling than most of the stuff that was popular then so i just latched onto it #kind of similar to how i feel about the 2 holly black things i actually like (curse workers and coldest girl in coldtown)#i could pick those books to pieces with all the little things that could have been improved but for whatever reason there are some elements #that just have a stranglehold on me and make me filly willing to ignore all the problems #i was gonna not tag this w sol because its more me just rambling to myself but literally no one is posting in there anyway so fuck it #shades of london

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felixfathom · 2 years

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@felixgothdevanily i tried </3 i had to cut out shadowmoth's GA dialogue for it to work but ephemeral and chat blanc remain unaltered !

#i said fuck it and did all three at once but it probably would've been better for them to be separate #this one is kind of a mess LMAO but it's fun #have you ever wished to witness sentitwins trauma in one sitting ? now you can !

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screampied · 7 days

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‘ I JUST WANNA HEAR YOU S(C)REAMMM ! ’

ᡴꪫ sum. what’s your favorite scary movie? is it carrie? psycho? or maybe nightmare on elm street? perhaps picking up the phone was a bad idea, but you don’t scare easily! or do you?

wc. 6.0k

warnings. fem! reader, ghostface geto & ghostface nanami, college au, threesōmes, unprotected, brief phone sēx, roleplay, dirty talk, praise, overstim, implied multiple ōrgasms, spit, manhandling, brēeding, hair pulling, oral (f & m receiving), cowgirl dp.

an. from this ask!

“hello.”

“hello?”

“what’s your favorite scary movie?”

you deadpan, almost as if you’ve seen this movie before. it was around close to midnight. you were the only one sober at some random frat party you got dragged to. everyone besides you were probably wasted or shoving tongues into mouths. sitting up on a cushioned bed, you hold the landline up to your ear. “mean girls two. bye.”

“….girl what? that’s not a—”

you hang up, averting your eyes back towards the tv screen that displayed some cheesy soap opera. about precisely thirteen seconds pass before the landline screeches a loud deafening ring again.

sighing, you answer it. “stop calling this number. prank calls aren’t funny.”

“no.” the voice replies, and it’s very deep—you swear you’ve heard something like it before. a best way to describe it was that it had a gruff pitch to it, baritone running all underneath it. his voice was also a bit sly too. “i just wanna talk to you.”

“bother some other girl. bye.”

“don’t hang up on me.”

for whatever reason, you don’t hang up. his voice sounded a bit stern—you sit up before growing quiet. you’re fully alert now.

“good girl. now, i’ll ask again. what’s your favorite scary movie?”

pressing your back against the comforter, your thighs squeeze together. with another vexed sigh, you say the most random movie that comes immediately to mind. “halloween.”

“pft. basic.”

“wha— you’re the one who asked.”

“oh, doll i’m just joking. but anyway, you like slasher movies, yeah?”

for whatever reason, the more you talked to this total stranger, you start to feel a sudden uncanny stir delve around your stomach. you weren’t scared, yet at least, but it was oddly peculiar. his voice sounds a bit familiar the more you listen to it. with how teasing the caller on the other line appeared, it was strangely intriguing. you kind of didn’t wanna hang up anymore, besides this party you were at was quite … not the best.

“not really. i am a jamie lee curtis fan though, i only watched because i make fun of the deaths.” you mumble.

“hmmm,” the voice hums through the other end. it’s as if he’s pondering what his next choice of words will be to you. “so…you got a boyfriend?”

you were taken aback by how abrupt the change of subject was. the man on the other end laughs at your awkward silence before you finally speak.

“no, and it’s not like it’s any of your business.”

“easy, girl. i’m just curious. besides, what if i wanna ask ya out?”

you grow quiet again before rubbing your neck, you were growing a bit hot.

“whatever. no, i don’t have a … boyfriend.”

“ooh. you hesitated there.”

you grumble. “shut up. i’m hanging up.”

the man immediately replies with a chortle.

“wait, wait. heh, serious though. you never told me your name, doll face.”

with an eye roll, you utter, “why do you wanna know my name?”

“because i wanna know who i’m looking at.”

“what?”

each word he spoke breaks through the phone due the deep mess of his voice. a few rough sparks from his dialogue punctures through the soundbox of the device. again, he did sound oddly familiar. you just couldn’t put your foot on it.

the man chuckles before responding in a more sly tone—changing the subject again.

“you know doll, you sound kind of out of breath. call me crazy, but before i called you, were you playing with yourself?”

your legs suddenly squeeze shut, you were wearing one of your borrowed hoodies and shorts underneath. any sane person would have hung up eons ago, but for whatever reason—you felt your heartbeat start to race. the more you listened to the deep voice on the other end, the more you started to grow more curious. what’s wrong with playing around for a little bit? besides, what’s the worst thing that could happen—you dying?

you scoff, thinking this was nothing more than a dumb prank call—you decided that playing along wouldn’t hurt. you had nothing else to do anyway.

“so what if i was playing with myself?”

“i bet you didn’t even make yourself finish, doll.”

his voice, the more it spoke in that rough pitched tone—you couldn’t help but press the landline up to your ear just a bit further. you furrow your curled up brows, lowering your guard a bit. probably foolish, maybe you’d regret this later, but alas, reality wasn’t on your mind at the moment.

“are you saying you can make me finish?” you mutter, growing amused now.

“oh i know i can. i can make you get off from just from my voice alone.”

he was toying with you, but it was too late to back down. you intake a honed breath before humming.

“okay, prove it then.”

he chuckles.

“mhm. take those panties off first. actually no, slide them to the side for me.”

you really felt like you were in a movie, shamelessly at this random guy’s beck and call. as the show played in the background, you press the middle part of your thumb against the volume button to turn it down four notches. the room was practically silent now, the only noises heard were from the blaring beat drops of edm music downstairs. sprawling your legs out, you creep a shaking hand between your thighs.

the voice grows quiet, you finally move your panties toward the side before slouching back against the pillow.

“you must be really bored. talking to a random girl at the m-midnight.” you exhale.

“heh, m-maybe,” he mocks your falter. “but i’m sure you’ll keep me entertained with that cute voice of yours.”

he was so smooth. smooth as if he was prepared for every word that flew out of your mouth. as your fingers glide against your now exposed entrance, you let off a shaky breath.

he was right, out of boredom you tried to play with yourself— yet, that didn’t work out because you could never make yourself finish. your attempt was basically useless. with a frowning pout, you reply. “now what?”

“finger yourself, silly. and i wanna hear, put the phone up against that pussy for me, doll.”

he was filthy.

you felt yourself start to throb before removing the landline from against your ear and placing it right against your doused entrance.

with heavy jagged breaths becoming more irregular, the person on the other line hears the wet sloshes of your cunt up against the phone. again, he grows quiet—it’s almost like you can make out his deep attractive breaths and it makes you pulse even more.

“bet you’re so nice ‘n soaked. sounds so sloppy.”

gnawing on the softness of your bottom lip, your thumb briefly skims past the nub of your clit and you whine. you were already a bit sensitive from before, starting to stroke your fingers against it. bringing the phone back up to your ear, you ease a single finger inside. it feels warm—you were slick, coating your own finger with a nice amount of your obscene arousal. it doesn’t take long for you to start to pant, slithering another finger inside of your cunt before moaning. it fits nicely, nice and snug.

“you sound so pretty. i want you to imagine those are my fingers, pretty girl. can ya do that?”

“y-yeah,” you start to stammer, feeling a sudden spongey texture inside of you—you gasp, not expecting to reach your sweetened g-spot so soon. it was a mere bumpy texture, gloopy gummy walls involuntarily accepting your two slender fingers with an open gesture. “fuck, ‘m still a bit sensitive.”

he guffaws lowly.

“yeah, i bet you are. poor baby can’t even make herself cum.”

you swallow, the playfulness in his voice making your thighs start to tremble a bit. with relaxed fingers stretching throughout your walls, you focus on your breathing. each pant that came out of your hot breaths seemed like it was gonna be your last. after a while, your toes start to curl up in pure pleasure—you moan, feeling a sudden rush of weightlessness nirvana overtake you.

“find your g-spot for me. tell me when you do.”

“i- i already found it,” you whine, a sheaf of nerves that store inside of your pussy pulsating at a rapid speed. your head throws itself back as you’re just moaning melodically. “fuck, why don’t you just come over ‘n finish for me already.”

the voice laughs again.

“yeah? you want me to come over instead? maybe i should use my tongue since your fingers are so useless, dollface.”

at this point, you didn’t really care. maybe making simple rational decisions today just wasn’t in your favor. the eerie voice, each second you spent listening to it the more aroused you became. maybe getting off to a pure stranger’s voice was embarrassing but you were feening. the air felt suddenly thick. so thick you could cut it with a knife. with your bottom lip being chewed on like gum, you briskly shiver. cold, wintry air wafts against your skin and you moan for the nth time. an unforeseen chill runs down your spine before you hold back yet another whine.

“f-fuck, just come ‘n finish for me. i can’t do it. please.”

he grows quiet for a solid good four seconds before replying in a cheeky tone.

“okay. turn around.”

your panting stops and instantly, you turn your head the other way—of course, no one was there. figures, the only things your eyes were met with was the wooden headboard. with a disappointed grimace, pulling your occupied fingers out of your cunt, you turn back around. as you’re about to speak into the phone again, you open your mouth before pausing.

there, you’re met face first with what appears to be some guy in an infamous ghostface costume. he was tall, staggering inches on him before you don’t see one but two. they both had the same getup, ghoulish ghost mask, a long black robe, and the same spectral, tilting head-stance.

one of them takes off a mask and it’s suguru geto, your roommate.

your eyes concisely widen. once he yanks off the mask, his silky well-kept black strands fly loose. no wonder the voice sounded a tad bit familiar. the other removes his mask and it was nanami, two of them—now you really felt like you were in a movie. “you always did say how much you liked scream,” and then you glance at nanami who had a sheepish expression. “don’t be shy now, someone’s gotta help ya finish.”

“o-oh,” you remember, sitting up against the bed. now you were embarrassed. just a few seconds ago, you were getting off to your roommate’s voice. suddenly, you felt even more hot. you did end up talking their ear off about your adoration for the beloved franchise, ranting about your cute little ghostface obsession.

truth be told though, you didn’t know they’d make it a sheer reality for you. the two of them get on the bed towards you before nanami brings a gloved hand to your chin. he strokes your chin softly, and geto moves underneath.

“sorry princess,” he whispers. “suguru wanted to scare you but i told him we should just show ourselves,” and as he’s speaking, you get lost in his soft, honeydew eyes. such gentle compared to geto who was a bit more—crazed. “he didn’t scare you too bad, did he?”

you moan once you feel geto run a thumb against your already exposed cunt. with a firm head shake, you huff. “no, n-not really.”

“aw what. i thought i was pretty scary,” and you whimper out once he blows against your folds. for a concise moment, geto stares up at you—dark eyes keeping a strong gaze on you. “tell us what you want, pretty girl. you want us to help you finish?”

you nod, feeling geto spread your legs apart further.

nanami, with a gloved hand purses your lips together, forming them into a tight squeeze before humming. “words, princess. use them, okay?”

the more you feel geto’s breath fan against your clit, teasing you—you were about to go feral. you stare up at nanami before letting off a sweet whine. “i- i want you both to help me finish,” you stutter out, stumbling over your pathetic words like you’d stumble with an untied shoe. “make me cum, please kento.”

he leans in to kiss your forehead and you hear geto scoff underneath. “i’m the one between your legs but whatever,” and you feel his soft lips kiss against your pussy. “kento, keep her distracted for me, will ya?”

“you’re so pretty,” he mutters, lightly lifting up your chin. as he wore black gloves—the fabric gently brushes against your lip, popping a thumb into your mouth. he doesn’t expect for you to happily take it in his mouth, sucking on it. “oh,” he breathes, a bit speechless. you stare into nanami’s eyes, swirling your tongue around his thumb in such an erotic way. lowly hooded eyes stare at him the entire time, you moan once you feel the flatness of geto’s tongue run against your sweet clitoral hood. his tongue—the texture of it was so cold, the moment he digs in he makes you know the pure definition of sloppy. all with his tongue, he slowly flicks it against your nub before delving his tongue deeper between your soddened folds. nanami pulls your chin to face him again before softly purring, “don’t look at him, look at me pretty girl.”

as your eyes focus back towards nanami, you could already feel your legs quavering. you felt hot, the lewd way geto drags his tongue against your pussy makes you gasp out three strained second puffs of air.

“k-kento,” you moan, pawing your hands at the low part of his robe. he watches, lowering his head at you before you reach there. nanami’s bulge, he has an abashed expression as he realizes what you were fondling at. “take it off.”

“ah, ask nicely,” he coos. your lips were now glossed with your own spit he smears against you as he pulls his gloved thumb out of your mouth. even though nanami was more tame than geto, his voice had a bit more dominance in it. he grabs your chin gently, cocking his head toward the side. “tell me what you want ‘n i’ll give it to you.”

your legs felt like they were standing on its last few hinges—geto’s tongue runs down your slit, taking a moment to depart his lips and spit on it, only to then lap it up again. a few annoyed grunts escape out of him partially due to his long strands of hair getting in the way. “so sweet,” he mutters, you whimper once he prods two fingers against your outer entrance. every few seconds he’d kiss near your thighs, leaving a few bite bite marks before focusing back towards your folds. “mhm.”

barely even able to keep focus, you gaze back up at nanami who’s standing near the edge of the bed—you’re laid back against the pillows with geto between your thighs. finally, a sweet mewl of words leave your glazed lips. “i- i wanna taste, ‘ken. wanna suck you off,” and he gives you a playful eyebrow raise, prying his pink lips open a few inches apart before you correct yourself. “pretty please.”

“better,” he murmurs, a hand of his reaching towards your head to give it a good pat. “good girl. go ahead, lift it up ‘n enjoy the meal.”

with a soft slackened sigh, you lift up the obsidian black robe. you’re met with ripped jeans, for some reason you just figured he’d already be sprung out for you. as geto’s still lapping up every drop of your taste, you unzip his fly before yanking down his pants. you were so impatient— and with geto’s demented pace, you were getting close. he chuckles, watching you struggle with the zipper for a bit before finally reaching near his boxers. they were a cerulean blueish color, his bulge was just appetizing. the entire shape of it, you felt yourself starting to drool the longer your eyes made direct contact against it. so rounded and full. with clammy hands, you tug them down before his thick cock springs out.

“it’s okay,” he whispers with a nod, watching you glance up him—a silent gesture as a way of asking if you could go further. nanami brings a hand towards the crown of your head, gingerly massaging his fingers through the crevices of your scalp. “you can be a little messy for me.”

a wretched whine that was raw rips from your throat once you feel geto’s tongue latch against your cunt. by now, he was sucking against your folds. the squelches were so sloppy, a hand of yours grab onto his hair for leverage and he shoots you a sly smile.

“don’t be shy girl, yank on it.”

dark pooled irises linger into yours for a long time before you get a good grip of geto’s hair, dragging him closer towards your entrance. over and over and over.

he giggles, hot breath ghosting against your folds and you throb even more. with dilated irises staring back towards nanami, you wrap your free hand around his length—he was so thick, such full balls that you just wanted to run your tongue all across it. he had a few veins skim down his beige, weighty cock. you could make out a few drops of lustrous pre-cum that decorates near his very tip. “u-ugh,” he shakes, the warmth that your tongue provides has him smothering his lips together. nanami watches, you’re slow but deadly.

pursing your lips together, you gradually start to sink him into your mouth.

geto’s still between your thighs, shoving two fingers in and out of you now—he surrounds your clit with his mouth, the suction he creates with just his lips was brutal. you’re moaning, even whilst your noises were pretty much muffled due to nanami’s fat cock. “easy,” he whispers, tapping a thumb against your cheek. “no teeth, okay? you’re doing s-so good.”

nanami groans, goading the same thumb against your cheek before you inch yourself further and further down. he has a shy smile at the way your hair forms in musses due to his tight grip. within no time, your throat’s already stuffed and few droplets of your own saliva trickles down the sides of your mouth. geto’s still making sure to thrust his gloved digits in and out of your soaked cunt and you don’t know which roommate to focus on.

“m-mphm,” was all you could manage out, your legs in a swift spread-eagle position. as you’re outstretched, you feel yourself about to cum. you’d recognize that feeling anywhere—the feeling when a swelling pool of heat residing inside your stomach tickles throughout your entire abdomen. that same feeling of nirvana courses through your veins as you’re now leisurely bobbing your head. every time you pull on geto’s long hair, he grunts—spanking your clit in response and that only causes you to whine for more. nanami strokes your face as he starts to feel his dick prod against the roof of your mouth. for a split second as you’re breathing through each nostril—you gag, long lashes fluttering in sync together.

your legs couldn’t hold still, geto’s continuously pushing you towards your limit before you whimper out. your tongue lathers over the splotches of pre-cum that paints nanami’s tip a pretty shade of snowy white.

he just couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, especially not with a face like that.

low eyes, sheepish smile, furrowed eyebrows. you’re convulsing profusely all in geto’s mouth, the sides of your thighs occasionally hitting against his face and he titters. “such a sloppy m-mouth,” nanami inhales deeply, and he starts to gently drag your head against his cock. he’s got your mouth filled with so many inches—your cheeks were all puffed up from his immense length, sheeny slobber emanating all down the sides of your mouth before he pants. “gonna make such a mess ‘n your mouth, princess. ‘s that what you want?”

you nod, feeling the vein that runs down his girthy cock twitch in your mouth. you moan, he’s feeling weightless—you’ve got his knees trembling, a hand’s still attached to your head like velcro before gyrating your tongue all over the crownhead of his shaft. “such a pretty face,” he gruffs lowly, swiftly pulling your hair side to side to take every inch. “s-shame i gotta ruin it a little.”

even nanami’s dirty talk was tame— it was cute to witness, the way his blond brows would tug into a furrow. he’s so pent up, and out of nowhere—you feel a sudden rush erupt within your cunt. before you could even react, you end up cumming hard. it shoots out of you like a rough wave, it’s such pure bliss that it takes you a few seconds to realize. geto’s making out with your pussy, slowly sliding his two protected fingers in and out of your sopping wet entrance and you shudder. “what a fuckin’ mess,” he hums, taking sight at how saturated you were. as geto laps his tongue against your folds once more, he stares back up at you and nanami. “aw. look at you two,” and he leans down to kiss your forehead. “slobbin’ everywhere, messy girl you are.”

your eyes go back up towards nanami, he’s sweating.

he felt as if the fabric of his robe stuck against his skin. while he’s holding it up with one hand, you sneak a stare at his abs, perfect washboard abs that looked quintessentially sculpted against his body. “g-gonna cum,” and he stares at geto, growing a bit flustered once all attention’s on him. “suguru, don’t just stand there. p…praise her.”

geto scoffs, kneeling beside you on the bed before moving a few strands from your face. “so bossy,” he grits before giving you your second head pat. he leans up close to your ear, grabbing the voice changer again and brings it up to his lips. “c’mon, doll. make ‘ken cum, yeah. doin’ so good for us. you’re gonna make him whine for you, heh.”

nanami’s legs felt like mush, he throws his head back, his long black robe syncing with his movements before he’s gently pulling your head against his thick cock. he shudders, welts of twinges close in on the undersides of his thighs before he finally finishes. it builds up gradually before you find him pouring into your mouth with a nice amount of parching hot cum. it’s hot, a good mass of satiny ropes coat the flat middle part of your tongue and you moan. “f-fuuuck,” he heaves through heavy lungs, it’s still trickling, you savor the taste. it’s bitterly sweet. he pulls out of your mouth before letting off a tremulous sigh. “good girl, f-fuck.”

“aw. don’t hog her, give me attention too,” geto sneers, softly grabbing you by the neck, making you face him. with his right hand, he squeezes your lips together with a rigid grip. “ah, don’t swallow yet. c’mere.”

with half-lidded eyes, you do—leaning into his touch before geto plants his warm lips onto yours. you’re caught by surprise for the umpteenth time today, prying your mouth open for him and he lolls his tongue down your throat. you let off a whine, feeling his gloved hands rub against every inch of your body. immediately, he tastes the candied flavor of nanami’s cum and it makes him groan. he didn’t even bat an eye—you return the kiss, feeling geto’s hand slither further down towards your ass. he caresses it, giving it a mean spank to make you moan out in ecstasy.

after a while, he pulls away, humming at nanami. “ken ken, don’t be so shy. you want a taste too?”

“yeah,” he mutters, needy eyes staring at your lips that were lubricated with your own sheeny spit. “can i?”

you nod, and he’s so gentle with you. a hand nimbly wraps around your throat before he brings you into a deeper kiss. geto’s still for his hands on you, strumming his fingers near your pulled to the side panties. you let off a soft pant, feeling the spiral of nanami’s tongue go against yours. he tastes sweet — savory even, his flavor was purely mouthwatering. a thumb drags down the passageway of your throat before he pulls away. it’s slow, a polished concoction of saliva departs from each mouth and you whimper. you were throbbing, desperate for more and they both knew that. if this— whatever this was was some sort of movie, you never wanted it to end. you never wanted the credits to roll because you felt like you were floating on cloud nine.

with the two of them, you were stretched in every way possible. if you could compare who was bigger, actually you couldn’t. throughout multiple positions, you felt as if you were gonna snap in half. they had you so stupid. pink tongue rolled out, full lungs of oxygen departing out such hot breaths of air, you were the definition of stupid.

cockdrunk at its finest. each orgasm that got ruthlessly snatched out of you had your head spinning, heart racing entirely.

you felt like something was creeping up behind your shoulder, chills. whenever you’d coax out yet another teeth-shattering orgasm, all you felt was stone cold chills. time after time, it felt like pure bliss—you thought you were in a whole new world, barely even able to move your thighs an inch. being sandwiched between the two of them, perhaps you were a little greedy but you just couldn’t get enough. geto’s degrading you whilst nanami’s whispering sweet pleasures into your ear, you’ve never felt more soaked.

you didn’t wanna stop—

currently, you’re straddling nanami. he’s got two rough hands gripping your waist, intaking every inch of your pretty physique. his stare sends you butterflies, his shaft was underneath you and only then pulls out. with a cute, “phew,” he swipes a sheet of sweat that expands across his forehead. you rode him so good that he couldn’t even figure out what to say. he was so flustered, tips of his ears a reddish hot before he watches geto creep behind you. “think she wants more, suguru.”

“bet she does,” he whispers, bringing a few sweet kisses near the inner corners of your neck.

you’re promptly sat up straight. the brief sounds of booming speakers roar from downstairs as you wrap your arms around nanami. geto licks near your collarbone before purring seductively. “say, doll. how ‘bout you try to take us both? would ya like that?” and with a gloved hand he gives your ass a squeeze. “wanna be the final girl ‘n prove your worth? our final girl?”

without an inkling of hesitation—you nod, mewling out a sweet, “yes, yes jus’ hurry up, sugu. ‘m still c…close.”

“so wet, so impatient,” he whispers once more, and with two hands he makes you sit up from nanami. you gulp—swallowing whatever sanity you had left, preparing to be quite literally double stuffed with your roommates. you aren’t so sure why, but the fact that they both still had on their ghoulish costumes made you pulsate a bit more. geto’s helping you slide back down onto nanami’s length before slowly making his way into you also. “god, you’re so hot in here. gonna fuckin’ swallow me whole.”

you moan, everything goes so slow—your cunt was a ticking time bomb. you clamp down on each before slumping into nanami’s chest. you’re met with kind eyes, he strokes your forehead before kissing the bridge of your nose, panting in a hushed voice. “eyes on me, princess. just relax.”

you wriggle a bit at the positioning—being on nanami’s lap, geto directly behind you, you’re quite literally being filled in every orifice by thick inches of cock. nanami’s words were soothing, filling up your tummy with a pool of fluttering butterflies. you keep your eyes on him, clenching down on geto a bit before you hear him hiss in response. “ugh. doll open up for me a little m-more, yeah.”

his voice was deepened heavily—you let off a cute gasp once they’re both finally in and a few shaky breaths exit past your lips. “hold my hand, i got you,” nanami coos, and that’s when geto starts to rock. he had more control between the two of you, the grip on your hips was firm and you let off a sweet babble. each individual entrance was stuffed, you swallow the invisible lump in your throat as you start to feel the sweltering friction of your thighs slap against nanami. “you’re so pretty like this,” and he kisses the temple of your cheek.

every kiss presented from nanami makes your heart race—being sandwiched between nanami and geto, you really did feel like the main character.

your lip tremors, grinding back and forth between each of them, you feel geto wrap his thick fingers around your neck.

whilst you’re still straddling nanami—you moan again and again, feeling a free hand of geto’s spank your ass. the stretch that you continuously felt had your mouth watering. you heard the harmonic pap pap pap’s until it rang throughout your ears. “fuck, ya like being stuffed don’t you, pretty girl? feel full enough?” geto rasps, pressing his body right up against you. you felt his hot temperature go against your skin. making you feel every amount of his heat. your brain’s swelling up with fog. giving him an inert nod, you hear him click his tongue. “didn’t say to nod your head, doll. i wanna hear that sweet voice.”

whenever geto lowers his voice a bit, you feel the abrupt tension arise between your legs. leaning against nanami, you whine out a, “hngh y-yesss, ‘m so full, sugu. want more, stuff me more.”

“let me stuff your mouth too then.”

and before you could come up with a reply, geto removes his glove—shoving your mouth with two fat digits. he grunts, watching as you’re so compliant with your throat being filled with his fingers. nanami stares at the entire scene in front of him, his dick idly twitching inside of you. your tongue runs down his fingers before your own spit starts to seep down the corners of your lips. it was messy—you were messy. your hips jitter and judder and you knew with having both holes stuffed you weren’t gonna last that much longer. it was probably the dozenth orgasm your pussy’s been introduced with and you could feel the creeping pleasure brew up inside your abdomen.

“suguru, ‘m gonna cum.” nanami groans, bringing his own hands to wrap around your waist. you lessen your tense from his touch before gagging a bit from the prodding of geto’s fingers way back into your throat. “she’s s-squeezing me so good.”

geto snickers, making eye contact with nanami. “are you? ‘ken, you’re more whinier than usual today.”

“shut up.” he grumbles, slapping a hand over his face in embarrassment — nanami wasn’t so known to be all flustered and abashed, but whenever he was, it was so cute.

you’ve still got a mouthful of geto’s fingers before he pulls them out only to shove them into his own mouth. he hums, sharp hips snapping into you repeatedly as his other free hand tightens its secured grasp around your hip. “mhm,” he groans, feeling himself reaching his peak also. “you taste like a final girl. so sweet like candy.”

with the piston of geto’s vigorous hips, you’re so loose that you feel the fleeting sensation of your cunt gaping.

its cavernous, you jerk forward against nanami before seconds later — geto groans, abruptly finishing two seconds early. even his moans were pretty, he tugs his fingers out of your mouth to wrap them around your neck. strands of black hair glue to his forehead and he puffs out a single breath. licking a stripe near your neck, he feels thick volumes of his cum ooze into your hole. it’s so sticky, you bring your hips to a slowing halt before nanami shoots inside you too.

“f-fuck, sugu,” nanami grunts, feeling his thighs stick underneath you. he was panting heavily, each breath that ran from his lips sounding more and more wearied. “damn, so m-much.”

everything spurts into you at once. they mirror each other inside of you perfectly. callused stubby fingertips of geto’s squeeze your neck softly, watching as you’re just being filled with bulky strings of cum, it floods your cunt until it drizzles further into your womb. you’re drooling, it feels so hot, sweltering hot. it sticks against your entrance before your arms wrap around nanami. “so f-full,” you whimper, and he returns the gesture by brushing his thumb against your waist. droopy eyes hang low before nanami pulls you into another deep kiss. you decided—this was far better than some dumb party. the cottony fabric of the ghostface robe pricks against your skin as you lean into his heinous touch.

you shift your weight against nanami’s lap, feeling geto pull out before he leans down between your legs. “spread your legs,” he mutters, and in the midst of your tongue roaming down nanami’s throat, you part your thighs—gasping once you feel geto’s own tongue lap against the freshly created mess. he makes little tiny licks, tasting the ropes of crisp cum that’s sloppily easing out of every entrance—you pulsate before he chortles, warm breath ventilating against your sobbing pussy. “so messy. don’t want any spillin’ out. gotta push it back in.”

you’re moaning, after a while you break away from nanami’s lips before he strokes your cheek lovingly, a cute drowsy look before he huffs, “did you hear me, pretty?” and he gently pokes your cheek. “you always do this..”

confusion hits you before your eyes suddenly open—you jolt up, both of your roommates beside you, gawking at you with a look of deadpan. you’re leaning against geto, the third movie of scream playing in the background—it was near the ending where the killer was being revealed. you sit up, staring down at your legs and you were fully clothed—there was no geto eating between your legs, no being stuffed with nanami, nothing.

“hellooo, earth to roomie,” geto waves his hand in your face, you stare at him before furrowing your brows. “you okay? you fell asleep on me again. what’s got ya so spooked? looks like ya seen a ghost.”

so it was a dream?

a mere glimpse of your lewd imagination—?

you have a sudden sheepish look, running your fingers near the nape of your neck. “huh. oh, i’m fine. i thought the movie would be over by now.”

nanami rubs your back. “we still have like twenty minutes left,” and then he looks at you with a concerned look. so gentle—so tender. “are you sure you’re okay? we can watch a rom-com if you want.”

“i’m okay,” you insist, slumping your head back against geto.

that was weird, out of all the dreams you’ve had throughout your life—none of them ever felt as surreal as that one. for some reason, you were still aroused though, you were a bit out of breath and feeling chills all over your body.”

abruptly, your phone rings,

“sugu, can you pass me my phone?” you sigh, trying to relax. you were pretty bummed you weren’t at that party getting stuffed with your two roommates but instead—in your generic dorm watching a scary movie.

he hands you the phone, grabbing the remote to turn it down a few notches.

once you take it, succinctly, your eyes scan across the screen—it reads that it’s from an unknown number. not really thinking much, you decide to answer, swiping the green button to answer. “um, hello?”

“hello.”

“hi,” you rub your eyes. “can i help y-”

“what’s your favorite scary movie?”

rolling your eyes, you peer at your two roommates beside you, nudging them and peeling the phone away from your ear for a moment. “very funny, suguru.”

geto gives you a look of confusion and nanami mimics the same. he shrugs, averting his eyes back towards the movie. “very funny what.”

and suddenly your laid back, unbelieving expression was expressed with a weird feeling. if it wasn’t them then who—

that same chill eerily creeps up your spine before you put the phone back near your ear. it’s that same low voice you heard from before, each word it speaks pitches deeper before you grow quiet at its final haunting response,

“oh baby, i’m not suguru or nanami.”

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