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little-diable · 1 month

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May thy knife – Feyd-Rautha (smut)

This is y'alls fault, all your comments made me write this. So, here we go, psychotic reader is back, but with a somewhat loving relationship. It felt only right to twist this famous scene – I'm sure this has been done before but I haven't read a fic that takes on this twist just yet, so I'm in no means copying any fic out there. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: What if the reader, who is married to Feyd-Rautha, didn't know that Paul, her brother, was still alive? What if it was her fighting against him instead of Feyd – all for revenge, to make her brother feel the same pain he had forced her to feel with his faked death?

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (m), willingly rough loss of virginity, choking, dom!Feyd, degrading, spitting, fighting, passing out, blood licking, knife licking, reader is a psycho fitting Feyd, yet there's some form of love between the two, and no, I ain't killing us so we survive the fight

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x fem!Atreides!reader (4.2k words)

The hatred she emanated was felt by all people surrounding her, people who didn’t dare meet her icy gaze – not even the emperor dared to turn towards (y/n). It was a wise decision, for the sake of all their lives, knowing that she could rob their soul and their last breath even without any weapons on her.

It had only been a few minutes since they had been taken prisoner, and while (y/n) could have easily fought her way out of the tight grasp, she hadn’t been able to move. Frozen to her spot as she had never been before, unable to move as her eyes followed the frame of the Muad’Dib. Paul Atreides. Her brother. The man she had believed to be dead for endless weeks. The prophet who hadn’t spotted her in the small crowd.

Not even Feyd-Rautha’s closeness had managed to rile her up at that moment, the man she had been forced to marry, the man she hadn’t allowed to touch her, not even on their wedding night. It hadn’t taken him long to accept that she’d cut off his hands should he touch her, speaking lies to the Baron to answer private questions that had left (y/n)’s insides churning. Feyd had protected her even when she went against a simple contract, lured closer by the darkness she carried deep within herself.

She had made too many sacrifices for her brother and their mother’s lies, tossed away for a strategic marriage she hadn’t been prepared for. All to mourn her brother who was still alive and breathing, guiding those who saw the prophet in him.

“You’re quiet. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this, wife.” Feyd’s breath teased her neck, he stood with his armoured front pressed against her back, hands resting on her waist. It was a dangerous game, a game she didn’t buy into, too focused on her racing mind. Feyd gave (y/n) another moment to push him away, just like she had always done – but she didn’t, she kept herself pressed against him as if he was an anchor saving her from drowning. “What are you planning?”

“How I will kill the Muad’Dib.” Not one ounce of love thumped through her veins, an emotion she had once held onto, at least for her older brother; a love that had frozen in her system the second she had heard his voice ring in her ears minutes ago. Feyd’s raspy chuckles left her skin tingling, adding fuel to the fire simmering deep inside of her.

For a moment, (y/n) allowed herself to focus on her husband’s touch, how he held onto her, tight enough to send a clear message to wandering eyes. He may have not claimed her behind closed doors, addicted to their game of back-and-forth, but to all those eyes, she was his as he was hers, a ruthless husband to a cunning wife.

“You know, I am always excited for a fight.” She wanted to reply, wanted to tease him for fighting against drugged prisoners who never stood a chance against him, but the second his cold lips met her throat, her words were lost on her sharp tongue. Her heart roared in her chest, not used to being kissed by Feyd, not after their first and only kiss in front of their wedding guests.

“You won’t fight. This is between my brother and me.” (Y/n) turned in Feyd’s grasp, letting her eyes wander over her husband’s features. He was handsome, she had always been drawn to him, and yet something had always held her back – the fear of being tied down by a man who perfectly matched her ruthless ways, a man who would rather kill himself than back down from a fight, just like (y/n). They were too similar, a scary realisation she had been forced to face many moons ago.

“I will let you fight, wife, but for that, I get to claim you tonight.” The mischief twinkling in his bright pupils pushed anger through her, anger clashing against lust. Her mind didn’t get to interfere as (y/n) shifted her weight onto her toes to press a kiss to his lips. She pulled away before Feyd could deepen the kiss, heart roaring in her chest as if it was communicating with his.

“You’ll have to lick my brother’s blood off me before you get to touch me.” Her words were meant as a warning, a warning Feyd clearly found enjoyment in. And with his raspy laugh echoing through the room, she found herself thrown back into her darkening mindset, preparing for a fight against her brother.

……

“How can you be so sure the Great Houses are here for me?” Paul’s voice filled the room. She didn’t see much of his frame, standing behind Feyd to shield herself from her brother’s and her mother’s eyes. She hated the way her fingers trembled, urged on by her anger, by her sadness, emotions flushing through her like poison set to kill her. “They may be curious to hear my side of the story, don’t you think? I am Paul Atreides, son of Leto Atreides, Duke of Arrakis.”

She wanted to shoot forward, wanted to throw herself against her brother’s frame to force him to his knees. But the hand Feyd pressed against her stomach to hold her back was enough to stay glued to her spot. The time wasn’t right just yet.

“Gurney, send a warning to all ships. If the Great Houses attack, our atomics will obliterate all spice fields.” Paul’s words left most of the people surrounding (y/n) tensing, words that were about to force a laugh out of her. She could feel and see her mother’s influence on Paul, forming him into the son she had always dreamt him to be.

“You’re out of your mind.” The Emperor’s slightly trembling voice drew a smirk to both (y/n) and Feyd’s lips, they got a taste of the chaos soon unfolding in front of them, drawing a sick sense of satisfaction and anticipation through the couple.

“He’s bluffing.” She couldn’t stop a soft laugh from leaving her at her husband’s words, urged on by the need to stand even closer. Her body was guiding her without giving her mind a chance to protest as her hand found Feyd’s. She was still covered by his tall frame, and yet she felt him freezing for just a second as she interlaced their hands.

“Consider what you’re about to do, Paul Atreides.” Within seconds, the voice filled their ears, forcing the Reverend Mother to lose her balance. No longer could (y/n) focus on the exchange between Paul and the Emperor, no longer could she focus on Feyd whose hand she had dropped once again. (Y/n) knew that the time was finally right, it was now or never, a fight that would end with either her’s or her brother’s life on the line.

“Stand or choose your champion.” Those were the words that ripped (y/n) out of her trance, pushing past her husband. She didn’t see how Feyd’s fingers twitched, having to stop himself from reaching for her, to stop (y/n) from fighting a battle he had been destined for.

“I’m here, Paul.” (Y/n) spoke the words with venom dripping from her voice, watching her brother’s bright pupils widen. From the corner of her eye, she could watch her mother shoot to her feet, and yet (y/n) didn’t dare let her gaze wander, enjoying the realisation that began to widen on her brother’s panicked features. “I need a blade.”

“Accept mine.” She didn’t rip her eyes from her brother’s to look at the Emperor, seizing the chance to read Paul well enough to tell her that he fought an inner battle. Paul whispered her name as he slightly shook his head, begging his sister to step away. Her tongue kissed her teeth as a blood-curdling smile widened on her lips, she didn’t need to speak up to tell Paul that she’d try everything she could to kill him, a simple act of revenge for leaving her, for forgetting her, for playing her.

With a slow nod thrown her way, seemingly accepting her will to fight, Paul turned from (y/n) to walk back towards his people. Only Feyd’s hand on her waist managed to rip her gaze from her brother’s frame, “Make me proud wife. Kill him.”

Feyd squeezed her waist as he pressed a harsh kiss to her lips, a clear signal for all those who were watching their interaction. He’d kill them all should she die, avenge her death as if it was his own life they tried to take. Without speaking another word, (y/n) pushed Feyd away from her, she tightened her grip on the Emperor’s blade, and let her feet carry her towards her brother.

“(Y/n),” Paul’s choked-up voice drew a humourless chuckle out of her. For a moment, she allowed her gaze to stray, to look at their pregnant mother and the unreadable expression she wore. (Y/n) had never been the favourite child, even though she was the girl Jessica had been asked to birth. She had always been too ruthless, too cold, too cunning for their family, the outcast who had been married to Feyd at the first given chance.

“Say it.” (Y/n)’s words were venomous, spat at her brother whose pained expression made him appear even more pathetic in her eyes. She wanted Paul to speak the words, words the siblings had spoken as mere children whenever they challenged one another into a play fight. Paul kept quiet, unable to part his lips until she almost screamed her words, “Say it!”

“May thy knife chip and shatter.” Paul’s voice trembled as he spoke the words, momentarily closing his eyes as if he struggled to accept their fate, to accept that he was expected to kill his beloved sister, unable to back down from a fight like this. She repeated the words much slower than Paul had, with a dangerous smile tugging on her lips – no longer did (y/n) care about her own life, about the mere chance of dying in her brother’s arms. She was hungry for revenge, to make him feel the pain she had been forced to carry deep within herself these past weeks.

And then everything began to blur, one attack after another, one strike after another, one stumble after another. She felt all their eyes on them as they fought, but (y/n) couldn’t give into the temptation to study the crowd, searching for Feyd’s eyes that were glistening with adoration for his wife. A woman fighting like a snake, slithering along Paul’s body to squeeze him to death.

Only as Paul’s knife cut (y/n)’s skin for the first time did her world begin to slow down, momentarily stopping its spinning motion. Paul seemed to freeze just like she did, focusing on the blood pouring from the wound. Perhaps he expected her to back down, to leave the circle to search for her husband’s protection. But (y/n) did something she had studied her husband do one too many times: Her fingers found her wound, picking up the drops of blood to suck her fingers clean, high on the coppery taste. Feyd’s laughter rang in her ears as she attacked her brother once again, faster this time, even more ruthless than the rounds before.

With blood sticking to her lips, (y/n) and Paul kept circling one another – all until she seized her chance to ram her knife into his side. Paul’s gasp forced their mother to her feet once again, searching her daughter’s eyes to shake her head, a silent warning not to kill her brother, a silent gesture that they wouldn’t mourn her death, only Paul’s. But while her mother’s eyes carried a clear warning, Feyd’s carried encouragement, asking his wife to end this right there and then.

A moment of distraction that gave her brother the chance to slice his blade through her skin, forcing it to nestle inside her stomach. Both siblings held onto one another, glassy eyes finding back together as neither loosened their grip.

“Do it, kill me. Feel the pain you’ve forced me to feel, feel the grief that has almost killed me.” Tears dripped from (y/n)’s eyes as she choked on her blood, knowing that she’d pass out any moment now. And even though she felt the darkness creeping through her veins, telling her that it was time to bid this life goodbye, a smile began to widen on her lips.

This was the moment she had imagined all these weeks, it was finally upon them.

Slowly Paul sacked to the ground with (y/n) clinging to him, holding onto her as he lifted his teary gaze. She didn’t see the way her brother's panicked gaze looked around the room, didn’t see the way his eyes found Feyd’s rage-filled ones, luring her husband closer. All she could focus on were the tears dripping from Paul’s bright eyes, holding back his sobs as Feyd kneeled next to them.

“Do whatever you must, save my sister.”

……

She woke with a gasp, eyes shooting open. It took her a moment to focus on her surroundings, the grey walls, the dim light, and the figure standing close to her bed. Pain shot through her as she tried to move, forced to plop back down onto the mattress with a curse clawing through her.

“You’re finally awake.” Feyd’s raspy voice drew a whimper from (y/n)’s chapped lips, eyes momentarily fluttering close to try and remind herself of what had happened. “You almost died, killed by your foolish brother who has never fought fair before. I should have killed him for hurting you.”

“Come here.” (Y/n) ignored her husband’s words, not daring to think of her brother, of their fight, and of the blood she had lost. Wordlessly, Feyd came to a halt next to her, staring down at her to wait for (y/n)’s next command. With another gasp roaring through her, she shuffled around on the bed, making space for her husband to lay next to her. “If you tell others of this I will kill you.”

His chuckles filled the room as he carefully placed himself next to her. The moment had something awfully intimate to it, giving the married couple a chance to be close to one another for the first time, without any eyes on them, without hatred urging words to leave their cold lips.

Feyd’s hand slightly trembled as he reached for her no longer bloody fingers, slowly interlacing them. Never had he done this before, reaching for her without any further message to communicate, holding onto her for the mere chance to be close to her.

“What happened to Paul?” Pain clawed through her at the thought of her brother. Anger had forced her to act, anger she hadn’t been able to swallow until now, unsure how to accept that her family had lied to her.

“Don’t worry about him for now.” Feyd didn’t tell her how he had left the planet with her, how he had brought her away from that place. Feyd didn’t tell her how he had sworn to Paul that he’d avenge (y/n)’s death should she die. Feyd didn’t tell her how Paul had told others to let them go, not knowing where Feyd was taking (y/n), not knowing if he’d ever see his sister again.

And at that very moment, (y/n) didn’t find the strength to ask another question, the strength she would regain soon enough to find her path back to her cunning self, set on ending the ruleless game between her and her family.

……

“Fight like a Harkonnen for fuck’s sake!” Anger pushed her words past her clenched teeth. Sweat was pooling on (y/n)’s forehead as she stared at her husband with spite swimming in her pupils. She knew Feyd was holding back, not trusting that (y/n) had regained her full strength just yet, the strength she’d need to force him to his knees in a training session like this.

“Wife.” It was a warning he spoke, a warning not to rile him up even further, knowing that he’d lose his patience soon enough. (Y/n) darted at her husband, her body collided with his to throw them both to the ground. She straddled his waist with a grim expression tugging on her features, knowing that in any other scenario, she wouldn’t have been able to attack Feyd like that. “Fine, this is your own fault, darling.”

Feyd harshly pushed her off him, momentarily robbing his wife of her breath as her back collided with the cold ground. He rose to his feet with his jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists – the version of her husband (y/n) desperately had tried to trigger. They circled one another, holding onto their blades with twitching fingers, set on regaining the upper hand.

Now it was on Feyd to attack first, his blade met hers over and over again, until he cut her cheek, drawing a hiss out of (y/n). She was heavily panting as he chuckled, bringing the bloody tip of his blade up to his pale lips to lick it clean, moaning at the taste of her blood.

Something began to shift at that moment, something that forced her to drop her blade, to throw herself into his grasp and to kiss him. Both fell back to the ground, allowing Feyd to cage her between the floor and his frame. His hand found her throat to keep her pinned down beneath him, all while their tongues fought for victory.

(Y/n) tightened her legs' grasp around his waist to pull him even closer, moaning at the way he ground his hips against hers, making her feel his hardening cock straining against his tight trousers. Everything about this moment was new to her, unsure of where to go from there without any experience guiding her, not knowing how to touch her husband. And yet, everything seemed to come almost naturally to her, trusting her body and Feyd to push her through the soaring waves of heat filling her trembling body.

“I should have fucked you months ago. You had your chance, but now I won’t be gentle with you, I will fuck you as a woman like you deserves to be fucked.” His words shot heat straight to her core, words that forced her to hold still as Feyd kept manhandling her, cutting her shirt open with his blade. The groan that left him at the sight of her naked chest made (y/nn) back arch, desperate to feel his hands on her. “I should tie you up, keep you as my toy to claim whenever I am hungry for you. I bet you’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?”

“I hate you!” It was nothing but a lie, a lie both easily saw through, but at that very moment neither Feyd nor (y/n) cared about pleasantries, urged on by their desires. He cut open her trousers before another curse could leave her, exposing her arousal-covered folds to his darkening eyes. Tonight he’d litter her in bruises. Tonight he’d force her to follow his rules. Tonight he’d show her his most ruthless side.

“Hate me all you want, wife, your body still craves the touch of your husband. You’re dripping for me.” He didn’t warn her before he plunged two fingers into her tightness, feeling her walls flutter around his digits. Feyd held eye contact with her as he spat on her cunt, rubbing his saliva against her pulsing bundle. (Y/n)’s moans rang in his ears, urging him on as if he was high on spice, blurring out their surroundings, blurring out the calmness they were now disturbing. “I can’t wait to rip you open with my cock, make you feel pain you won’t ever forget.”

Her mind was silenced, fogged up by the lust thumping through her veins. Feyd fucked her with his fingers, he pushed her closer to the high she had only allowed herself to feel whenever she had been desperate for his touch but too proud to search his closeness. But her body wasn’t ready to give up the chase just yet. Her hand found her blade, moving without gaining Feyd’s attention, who was still fully focused on her cunt.

With quick movements, she brought the tip of her blade to his throat, stopping him in his movements. The chuckle leaving Feyd left her smirking, looking even more psychotic with the blood still dripping from the cut on her cheek. She barely put up a fight as Feyd ripped the blade from her hand, as he shifted them around to bring her to her knees and up against his front.

The blade teased her throat as he held her to him, even as he freed his aching cock, ready to disappear deep inside of her, “You had your chance, I would have prepared you for my cock, would have given you time to adjust. But that kindness is no longer among us. Now you’ll take my cock like my own personal whore.”

He forced his cock into her cunt, groaning at the tightness engulfing him. Tears ran down her cheeks, tears of lust, of pain, of desperation – finding an unfamiliar sense of enjoyment in Feyd’s rough touches. His name rolled off her tongue as he fucked into her from behind, dropping the knife to choke her with his cold hands once again.

Feyd was treating her like his pet, treating her like he had been raised to treat women – momentarily forgetting about the love he fostered deep inside of him. And she loved every second of it, finally able to give up control for the first time.

“It brings me great pleasure knowing that no other man will ever get to have you like this. Your body is mine, you’re my whore, you only listen to my commands. And you will kill whoever dares to touch you should I not be fast enough to do it myself.” His words left her choking, forced to claw her fingernails into his pale skin as her mind began to race. Even though the words didn’t sound like it, it was the most sincere love confession Feyd had ever spoken, words that cut deeper than any blade ever would.

“Feyd.” She whimpered his name as his free hand found her clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves to push her towards the edge. The first of many orgasms was awaiting her, set on ripping her from this place into another dimension, led by her husband. (Y/n) felt his black teeth run along her neck, biting the spot where her neck met her shoulders, close to drawing some more blood from her weeping body.

She came without another word clawing through her, calling out his name as her orgasm momentarily robbed her of her vision. Feyd kept a strong hold on her throat, his hips kept meeting her behind, forcing his cock further into her clenched tightness. He gave it a few more thrusts before he pulled out of her and rose to his feet.

With his hand finding her hair, he forced her towards him, making her scalp burn from the strength of his touch. His cock was shoved past her parted lips, letting (y/n) taste herself on his cock as he fucked her mouth. The corners of her mouth began to burn within a few moments, once again making tears fall from her glassy eyes.

She had never seen her husband like this, trembling for her, with his head thrown back, and his eyes closed, fully focused on the pleasure thumping through her. No longer did she feel the need to fight, no longer did her fingertips ache for the feeling of her blade, no, for the first time since knowing Feyd, she wanted to give her everything to satisfy the man.

“You’ll swallow every drop of my seed, and then you’ll lick me clean.” It was a simple command, a command that left her moaning around his cock. Feyd came within a few more seconds, releasing himself down her throat and on her eager tongue. The two held eye contact as she swallowed, as she ran her tongue up and down his twitching length, following his every command.

“Where are you going, wife?” She froze in her movements, her heavily panting self had turned from him, set on plopping down on the ground to catch her breath. (Y/n)’s wide eyes were drawn back to his like spice forced up into the air, following the wind’s call. “That was only the beginning. I won’t be done with you for a while.”

#Feyd Rautha smut #Feyd Rautha imagine #Austin Butler #Feyd Rautha x reader #dune imagine

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daycourtofficial · 5 months

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Hello. If you don't mind can I request a fic with cassian with a shy reader where she and Cassian have been trying to get pregnant for years, but reader starts doubting herself when seeing the rest of the inner circle females like feyre and elain getting pregnant, and thinking cassian will leave her because it is taking them ages to get pregnant...but Cassian reassures her and all...and weeks later reader finds out she is pregnant and surprises cassian with the news...

Ask and you shall receive! This is actually super super cute so thank you for this request!

A Teeny, Tiny Illyrian Warrior

Summary: after years of trying, you break down crying to Cassian over your inability to conceive, only to find out several months later that you are expecting

It was irrational. You should be happy for Elain, sweet Elain who you considered a great friend. Elain, who after several years of healing, figured out what she wanted, and moved to live with Lucien to help rebuild the spring court, just announced she was pregnant.

Making her the third Archeron to be pregnant, with Nesta and Eris having a baby a few years prior.

It was exhausting. Everyone around you was churning out babies, except for you and Cassian. You’ve both wanted kids for so long, but when Rhys was trapped under the mountain, the two of you decided to pause your dreams to help run and maintain Velaris in his absence. The fear of a child growing up in Amarantha’s reign was terrifying enough to keep the dreams at bay.

The tonic you took every day to keep you from getting pregnant had felt like sewage down your throat.

When Rhys had returned, you were so excited not just for your brother in law’s return, but for what it meant for you and Cassian. You could try. And try you did. You let Amarantha stop you from conceiving, but the war with Hybern would do no such thing.

So the two of you spent the first few years excited, constantly tearing at each other’s clothes. Until your cycles would come. And come. And come, each one a reminder of what isn’t to come.

Then Feyre got pregnant, and you were ecstatic, over the moon. Then Nesta got pregnant a few years later. You were still happy, but the jealousy was clawing your throat. Now Elain’s pregnant, and it is taking every ounce of strength not to ask why her.

The past year sex has almost felt more like a chore than pleasure, your empty womb keeping both of you wanting more.

You plaster on a smile, congratulate the two of them, and after dinner you go and slink away into the bathroom, hide your head in your hands, and sob.

Sob because it should be you announcing your pregnancy. Sob because everyone should be happy for you. Sob because what if Cassian decides you’re not enough?

He sees all these females getting pregnant - what if he decides you’re the problem? He could find loads of females willing to fill that role. Does he wonder how quickly he could impregnate them?

Your sobs are so out of control that you don’t hear the door open and close and a body sits next to you.

“Here,” he says, handing you a handkerchief. You pull your hands away to find Azriel, your other brother in law.

You and Azriel were incredibly close - both of you perfect foils to Cassian’s loud, swaggering personality. The two of you were more quiet and observant, Cass being enough personality for the three of you.

You accept the handkerchief, wiping your eyes and blowing your nose, creating the ugliest noise imaginable.

Azriel stretches out his long legs, resting his back against the cabinet. “I know it’s hard,” he says, reaching out to rub your back, “but it will be okay.”

You lean into him, and choke out, “what if he decides I’m not enough? That he could easily find someone who is able to get pregnant?”

Azriel’s hand halts its soothing strokes for a brief moment before continuing. “If you think for one moment he would ever be separated from you by his own choice, think again.”

You go to respond but he cuts you off, “Cassian would cut off his own hand before willingly letting go of yours.”

You two sit there, his words echoing through your mind, when he starts again.

“For what it’s worth,” he says, standing up, “if your child has his eyes and your smile, it’ll blow all the other babies out of the water with its cuteness.”

You smile, accepting the hand he reaches out for you, “I always knew you had a soft spot for Cass’s eyes.”

He laughs, tucking your hand into his elbow to lead you out, “they’re just so pitiful. He pouts and he looks like a kicked puppy.”

You laugh, allowing him to escort you back to the dining room, back to your family.

Later that night, as you and Cassian are taking a bath, you decide to broach the subject that’s been bouncing around your head since Azriel found you in the bathroom.

“What if we stop trying?”

Cassian’s hand reaches up from behind you to cup your face, tilting your chin back so you can look at him, “Stop trying what?”

“Stop trying for a baby.”

His grin is gone immediately, about to ask if you’ve changed your mind, and you spin in his laps to meet his eyes.

You grab his chin and tell him, “I don’t mean like we give up. I mean we stop trying. Sex has felt like a chore for a while, and I miss it being fun. Now it’s just a means to an end.

“I want fun sex, I want dirty sex, I want it all. But I want to stop our ‘only doing this to have a baby’ sex. I won’t take the tonic, but I’m tired of the heartbreak. If it happens, it happens.”

He looks at you, your wet hair making you look even more like a goddess to him, as he cups your chin and asks, “are you sure, love?”

You smile, “yes. Maybe we can go back to trying in a bit, but I want a break. I don’t like the feelings it’s causing, like I broke down in tears earlier that you would leave me for a more breedable woman.”

Cassian snorts, “did you actually call them breedable women?”

You smack his arm, “poor Azriel found me a blubbering mess. I’m pretty sure he should just burn the handkerchief he gave me because all of the snot and tears made it gain five pounds.”

He chuckles, but then he looks at you, conveying every emotion he feels for you, and you know you were a fool for ever thinking he’d consider leaving you.

“Sweetheart, I would never leave you for such a thing. I want a baby, yes, but I want you more, and I would be perfectly content spending the next thousand years with only you by my side.”

Your legs bracket around his thighs, and you rub your fingers up his arms as you tell him, “I can think of a few ways we could spend those thousand years.”

He throws his head back laughing, and crashes his lips to yours.

It had been six months since Elain’s announcement, and the babe was here. Feyre and Rhys traveled to spring to go visit, leaving you, Cassian, and Azriel alone.

Cassian was out shopping for Solstice gifts, an activity you were going to join him for until you woke up not feeling well. After much convincing and promising him if you need anything you’ll get Az to get it for you, he went ahead without you, needing to pick up gifts before shops closed.

After spending the first hour of his departure in the bathroom throwing up what felt like all of your internal organs, you wandered out into the hallway in search of your husband’s brother.

After a fifteen minute search, you found him in the library reading what appears to be a romance novel that Nesta left behind.

“Doing some studying?” You ask, peering over his shoulder at the particularly raunchy scene he was reading.

He jumps, having had no idea of your intrusion. He clears his throat, asking, “weren’t you supposed to go shopping today?”

You walk around the couch, sitting next to him and looking at the cover of the book he was reading.

“I was, but felt ill so I stayed behind and convinced Cassian to go without me.”

He snorts, “bad idea. You reign him in a lot when it comes to gift giving, otherwise he forgets how much he’s already bought for someone and just buys more.”

You were about to agree, your husband’s joy at buying gifts knowing no bounds, when his brother stills, slowly sniffing the air and turning towards you and asking, almost accusatorially, “are you pregnant?”

You look at him, half tempted to yell at him over his inclusion of the sore subject. You felt freer these past few months, less bogged down by the negative emotions your inability to conceive was creating.

Azriel had seen it all with you, acting as a source of comfort during all the uncertainty the past sixty years have shown.

His asking that question and your earlier illness is what led the two of you to see Madja very quickly, who confirmed the pregnancy.

“How am I going to tell him?” You ask Azriel, as you two walk around the Sidra. You already felt guilty that Azriel had been the one with you when you found out and not Cassian, however that guilt subsided when you realized if you weren’t pregnant the disappointment on Cassian’s face would have ruined you.

“Well anytime anyone ever asks Cass for advice, he always steers them towards nudity.”

You laugh at how true the starement was. Feyre asking Cassian advice on a gift for Rhys? Nudity. Rhys asking for advice on a gift for Azriel? Nudity. He was a simple man, he’d tell them in response.

You pass by a baby shop and find your eyes drawn to it, your feet pulling you back in front of the door. Azriel follows your line of sight, sweeping his arm in front of you motioning ‘after you’.

The two of you walk around, looking through baby clothes when a sales associate comes and speaks to you. “Ah are you two expecting?” she chirps, looking pleasantly between the two of you.

You laugh while Azriel blushes and reply, “he’s my husband’s brother.”

The sales associate gapes, her jaw going slack. “Oh um okay, well it’s none of my business-“

Before she can finish rambling, Azriel cuts her off. “I’m helping her pick something out to tell my brother he’s going to be a dad to a child that is not mine.”

She looks between you two and laughs at the mistake. “Did you have anything in mind?”

You tell her that you actually had an idea.

When Cassian got home, he was tired from lugging around at least two dozen shopping bags. He was exhausted, but incredibly proud of himself because he’s fairly certain he was able to get gifts for everyone, meaning most, if not all, the shopping was done.

The house was quiet, so he took the opportunity to hide the ruby red necklace and earrings he got for you in this old dried fruit container he kept on a top shelf, a place you’d never search for, much less be able to see.

After the gift was tucked away, he began walking through the house trying to find you, deciding you’d likely be in your shared bedroom. Making his way there he stopped in the hallway, finding a tiny little baby sock on the floor.

He looks around, not finding anything else strange he picks it up and continues his search. Passing through the kitchen he found another baby sock, in the dining room he found a little tiny hat, in another hallway he found a little tiny pair of pants that look just like his fighting leathers.

There must be a naked baby running around here somewhere, he thinks.

Right outside the door to your shared room is a little shirt that also looks just like his fighting leathers, with teeny tiny slats in the back for wings.

He grabs the door knob, twisting to enter the room as he begins asking, “is there a naked tiny Illyrian war-“

He stops dead in his tracks at the oh so subtle smell in the room, coating the room in florals he never thought he’d smell from you. He looks up from the shirt, finding you sitting on your bed with tears in your eyes.

“It’s me, I have a teeny tiny Illyrian warrior so I bought them teeny tiny Illyrian fighting leathers for all the teeny tiny threats they’ll have to fight.”

Your husband takes off running towards you, kissing you like his life depended on it. Then he picked you up off the ground, spun you around, and ran out of your bedroom with you. He’s running through the whole house shouting, “she’s having my baby!” Repeating it over and over, until he almost collides with Azriel. Before Azriel can say anything, Cassian picks him up too, spinning the both of you. All three of you laugh at the pure joy radiating off of Cassian after so many years of wanting.

#acotar writing #cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian fluff #request

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lilyrizzy · 1 month

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continuation and happy ending for this break up fic. i fixed it! (and maybe did a sloppy job of it oops) BUT I hope this brings someone, somewhere joy.

When Daniel gets to the door of his apartment, there is a tall, cardboard box propped up against his door. He doesn’t know when it was delivered because he’s spent the last few nights since being back in Monaco bouncing between Scotty’s place and Blake’s, drinking more and sleeping less than he should.

It’s how he ended up in this mess in the first place; stuck in the minor injuries unit, bleeding and embarrassed, waiting for Max to come and rescue him. Because even now, six fucking months later, he still hasn’t changed his emergency contact information back to Blake.

Sighing, Daniel balances the box in one hand and fumbles with his keys in the other to get his front door open. Once inside he dumps the box onto the counter and pours himself a glass of water. Takes a sip, sets the glass back down, and feels lost.

The truth is, he doesn’t know what was worse. That he hadn’t expected Max to show up, or that he did, and even though Daniel saw him nearly every weekend still, like this it was- Different. Max with his mussed up hair like he’d rolled straight out of bed to come to the hospital for Daniel, reminding him of everything he didn’t want to remember.

Like how their kind of falling apart happened slowly, so slowly that the track limits crept up on them, and by the time Daniel tried to hit the break they were already in the wall. Small disagreements built on top of months of half-conversations, until resolution stopped being the goal. Instead, it was to get through a week, a day, a morning without cracking whatever tentative peace they’d found the last time.

Shaking his head is a bad idea considering he might have a concussion, but Daniel can’t stop himself from doing it. As though his brain is an etch-a-sketch from which the fights and the furious words he spat at Max regularly can be erased.

He groans out loud, tipping the rest of the water down the sink before turning his attention back to the parcel. Ripping it open gives his shaking hands something to do, gives his nail bed a rest from his anxious chewing.

A sweet smell hits him first, before his eyes can make sense of what he’s seeing, and-

Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn’t a bouquet of tulips and a small, hand-drawn card.

To brighten your day, Uncle Daniel, the note attached said, in Isaac’s messy scrawl, but he bet the wobbly hearts underneath were all Izzy. The words all Michelle.

It’s enough to put the smile back on his face for just a moment, even as his stomach churns with the same homesick feeling he’s been unable to shake since he left his and Max’s apartment. Placing the card down, he takes one of the petals between his thumb and finger, feeling the waxy smoothness against his skin.

They’re a bigger bouquet than the tulips he’d brought for Max one time, back when their fights could be so easily fixed. Daniel can still remember the pleased flush that warmed Max’s cheeks as he’d looked between Daniel’s face and the flowers, eyes wide like this was the most romantic thing someone had ever done for him.

At the time, it had made Daniel proud of himself. Now, it just makes him sad. The idea that crappy, half-wilting tulips brought from a supermarket in Monaco could mean so much when Max deserved the world.

But this had been the way things always went. Daniel would show up with a poker chip from Vegas, a guitar pick from LA, a seashell from Perth, and Max would beam at him like he was the sun for bringing him a gift. Or just- maybe just because Daniel showed up at all.

I don’t understand, Daniel, why nothing with you is ever enough. Max had always thrown in his face whenever Daniel picked a fight as a plea for words, for attention, for affection. I am here, aren’t I? The more than you was always unspoken, but still deafening.

I’m always going to be here.

And he still was, living in their apartment that Daniel moved out of months ago. Still sending Daniel’s dad a bottle of wine on his birthday, still cuddling Izzy when he saw her at the grand prix last weekend. Still turning up to hospital waiting rooms for Daniel at four in the morning.

Why do I feel like I have to be a fucking games console to get the tiniest bit of interest from you, Daniel had spat at Max, another evening he’d come home to find Max engrossed in the sim. How am I supposed to trust that you love me when you hardly ever fucking say it?

For not the first time, Daniel wonders if maybe Max had been trying to all along, just not with words.

“Fuck, Maxy,” he says to the empty room. “Fuck sake.”

Rubbing his eyes, he paces to the window, wanting to press his throbbing head against the cool glass. He should go to bed, should crawl beneath the covers and sleep until he wakes up feeling strong enough to try forgetting Max all over again.

Needs to forget his worried eyes scanning over Daniel’s body as though trying to catalog where he might need fixing, the soft way he’d said Daniel’s name under the harsh glare of the hospital lights. His stupid fucking car, flashy even for the streets of Monaco, and far too fast at the same time, that-

That is still parked beneath Daniel’s building on the street below.

His eyes catch on it as they slit open against the rising sun, the sparkle of the paintwork against the tarmac. Daniel glances at the clock above his oven. He’s been home an entire fifteen minutes, and still Max hasn’t moved. If he’s not careful he’ll get a parking ticket.

Some things are worth it, he’d told Daniel when he’d warned him of the same thing, a million years ago now, picking Daniel up from the airport and lingering too long in the ‘kiss and fly’ lane.

In another life.

The life Daniel wants more than he can remember the reasons he walked out of it.

“Max,” Daniel finds himself calling out stupidly, even though it’s obvious Max can’t hear. He opens the balcony door, stepping out onto it and calling it louder. “Max!”

Though the traffic on the street below is quiet, almost non existent at this hour, Daniel’s shouts still don’t seem to carry far enough. There’s no sign Max has heard, no opening of a car door, no emergence of his blonde head from the drivers seat.

Daniel needs to do more, he needs-

Stepping back into the apartment, his eyes search his kitchen frantically until his hands grab the flowers on instinct. For a moment, he considers walking down the stairs and handing them to Max, an offering, an apology, a chance, but-

Daniel can’t let him drive away. He can’t risk running down the stairs only to find him gone when he reaches the pavement and steps back out into the Monaco sunrise. This moment is his tenth of a second, small but capable of making all the difference as long as he doesn’t take his foot off the pedal.

A split second of madness passes, and he finds himself back on the balcony pulling one of the stems loose from the bouquet. Before he’s thought about it anymore, he’s watching it hurtle off the edge towards Max’s car. It misses, landing just to the side by his front left tyre, Daniel isn’t giving up.

Stem by stem, he pulls the flowers loose, throwing them down onto Max’s car. His aim gets better, and soon nearly each one is landing on his bonnet or his windshield. Their petals make a soft sound as they hit the shiny bodywork of the car. Sunshine yellow against Ferarri red.

Finally, the car door opens and Daniel waits, arm suspended backwards in midair, still clutching a fistful of stems.

“Daniel, what the fuck are you doing?” Max shouts eventually, scrambling from the car looking pissed.

He covers his hand over his eyes to shield himself from the growing daylight, face screwed up as he squints up at Daniel. His expression should be a reminder of so many bad memories, and it is, but it’s also something Daniel doesn’t want to miss anymore.

“Maxy!” He shouts, letting the rest of the flowers drop to the floor in favour of leaning over the balcony. His heart is pounding so hard against his rib cage that he’s surprised the railing beneath him isn’t vibrating with it. “Can you- I love you. Can you come upstairs?”

For a moment, Max’s face just melts into blankness. The moment stretches, long enough that Daniel’s brain starts scanning for a joke to make, to backtrack, to just get out, but then-

Max smiles. A different kind of sunshine, but still so fucking bright.

“I love you too,” he calls up, his voice more than a little croaky. “I think- I think it would be better if I told you this more, before, but- But also I think it would be better if you came home.”

Daniel’s trainers slap quickly against every other step on the way back down the stairs.

#for once i stuck to my word and wrote the happy ending!#and it was bloody hard lol so #sorry if it sucks!#fic #max/daniel #also ignore delivery logistics that dont make sens plsss lol

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misc-obeyme · 1 year

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Solomon's Warmth

Happily for me, I had just enough time to write this. MC is having a hard time with the fact that the brothers don't remember them. They're at Cocytus Hall on a rainy day, feeling sad, and Solomon comforts them. What can I say, I love this guy and there is so much room for fics with him in the Nightbringer story so far, I couldn't help myself.

GN!MC x Solomon

Warnings: MC is sad, some spoilers for Nightbringer (lesson 6-9 specifically)

It was a rainy day in the Devildom, the sky darkened even more than it usually was by the clouds. Inside Cocytus Hall, you could hear the rain pattering steadily upon the roof. The castle was drafty and you shivered. You were in your own room, so you looked for something to bundle up in. A sweater or hoodie to warm you up just a little.

Once you found the article of clothing in question and pulled it on, you headed out of your room. You wandered the halls of this place, looking into rooms occasionally. All the while, the large open windows displayed the darkest grey sky overlaid with the pattern of rain drops running down the glass in streaks.

Your mood was low. The Devildom sky seemed to be reacting to the pain in your heart. You couldn't help it. After all this time, after everything you've been through, the seven demon brothers no longer trusted you.

It wasn't their fault, you knew. It wasn't even that they didn't remember you. They simply hadn't even met you yet.

And while you were positive you could regain their trust, show them again how much they mattered to you, it still hurt that they no longer recognized you. That the feelings they had for you had essentially been reset. You caught yourself often dreaming of the memories you held of the present. They were the same demons, but they were also so different.

And then there was the whole mystery of how this had happened to begin with. Like you really needed another mess to work out.

So you found yourself often wandering around Cocytus Hall when you weren't at the House of Lamentation trying to regain what you'd lost. The large, mostly empty space was perfect for giving your body somewhere to move through while your mind churned through all of these thoughts.

It was easy to forget that Solomon lived there, too. The place was big enough that you could go all day without seeing him.

On this particular rainy day, however, he found you.

Solomon was the only one who still had all the memories from your own time. He remembered everything you had done to become a full fledged sorcerer, remembered all the time you had spent learning magic from him, remembered all the moments you spent together in the Devildom and in the human world. He already loved and trusted you in a way that none of the others did any longer.

And although Solomon was often busy doing mysterious things of his own, he knew he was the only one who remembered you. He knew he was the only one who knew your secret of being from the future. And he knew that it was hard for you, that you often found yourself feeling down when you were alone or away from the brothers.

So when you were lingering in the room that was Cocytus Hall's library, staring out the window at the rain, you weren't too surprised when he came in. It was obvious from the way his expression changed when he saw you that he had been looking for you deliberately.

"MC," he said, replacing his concerned look with his usual smile. "I thought you were here. I was thinking about making some tea since it's so cold today. Did you want some?"

You considered your options. Solomon couldn't really mess up tea, could he? Would you die if you drank it? Was it worth the risk?

"Let's make it together," you said. This way you could easily divert him and make it yourself.

You followed Solomon to the kitchen, which was large enough to have a little nook for a table and chairs beside a window. Both of you normally ate here rather than in the enormous formal dining room.

After successfully making tea for yourself by distracting Solomon, the two of you settled at the table. You held your tea cup in your hands, letting the porcelain warm your fingers.

"Did Barbatos give you this tea set?" you asked idly.

"A long time ago, yes," Solomon said.

You looked up at him with a scowl. "Back before he hated your guts? I can't believe you don't remember what you did to him."

Solomon sighed. "I really wish I could. Every time I see him, he looks like he wants to kill me."

"Knowing Barbatos, I can't imagine he would be this angry about something unless it was really serious," you said.

Solomon took a sip of his own tea. "I'm not too worried. Whatever it was, I know he forgives me eventually. He doesn't want to kill me in our present time, after all."

You let out a short laugh. "True enough."

You both drank your tea in silence for a few moments. You could feel Solomon's eyes on you and you braced for the question you knew was coming.

"MC," he said. "How are you holding up?"

You closed your eyes briefly. You thought about how much to say to him. He knew that you'd been struggling, of course, but you didn't want to make him worry. It wasn't like this situation was one you couldn't handle.

"I'm fine," you said, having decided that there was no reason to burden him with the truth of your feelings.

You should have known that wouldn't work.

"I understand if you don't want to talk about it," Solomon said, his voice quiet. "But I'm already worried about you. Do you think I don't notice how you wander around Cocytus Hall when you're here? The way you look so lost and sad? Especially on a day like this…" Solomon looked out the window at the rain.

You let out a sigh, leaning your chin on your hand. "I just have a lot to think about. This situation is tricky."

"For what it's worth, I don't have any doubts about your ability to get through this successfully," Solomon said. "I've seen you grow into a skilled sorcerer. I know what you're capable of. You'll be able to help the brothers here in the past, while also finding your way back to the time we're from. I believe in you."

Perhaps it was the soft tapping of the rain on the window beside you. Perhaps it was the warmth of the tea cup in your hand. Perhaps it was the coziness of your clothing. Perhaps it was the look on Solomon's face or the timbre of his voice. Perhaps it was all of these things combined, but when you felt the prick of tears, you fought hard to keep them in. It was bad enough that Solomon felt he had to say things like this to you. If you cried now, it would only confirm to him that you couldn't handle things.

Once again, Solomon seemed to know what you were doing. He sighed, setting down his tea cup and reaching across the table to take one of your hands. "You don't have to do that, you know," he said softly. "You don't have to be strong for me. I know you're dealing with a lot and getting emotional about it is perfectly normal. I'm not going to think you're any less competent if you cry."

You pulled your hand out of his and leaned back, wiping at your eyes with your sleeve. "Damn it, can you stop saying stuff like that? You're making it worse."

Solomon chuckled. He stood up and came over to your chair, holding a hand out to you. "You know I'm here for you, MC. Let me help you through this."

You considered the offered hand for a moment. You knew that if you accepted it, Solomon would have effectively torn down all of your walls. Even so, could you really reject it? He was the only reason you even knew what you had to do to get back to your own time. He was the only one who still remembered everything.

You took his hand. He pulled you gently up from your chair and into his arms. You immediately wrapped your arms around him in response, finally giving in to that need for comfort.

Solomon held you quietly for some time. You had allowed some stray tears to fall down your cheeks. When he finally pulled away a little, Solomon saw the salty trails they left behind. He cupped your face with his hands, rubbing away your tears with his thumbs.

"MC, listen to me," he said. "I know you have what it takes to overcome this. You are my adorable apprentice and I have nothing but faith in you. But that doesn't mean you can't be honest about how you're feeling. Especially when you're here with me. I won't ask you to tell me everything all the time. Everyone has secrets. But I want you to know that you can lean on me when you need to. Okay?"

You took a deep breath. "Yes. Okay. Thank you."

Solomon smiled at you before holding you close again, his fingers idly caressing your hair.

You looked out the window at the rain and the darkness, but for once you felt warmth all around you. You knew that Solomon's steady presence would keep you grounded as you struggled through all the emotions being in the past stirred up within you.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #obey me solomon x mc #solomon x reader #solomon x mc #obey me x reader #misc writes

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mothwingwritings · 10 months

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There’s Honey On The Moon Tonight

F!Reader X Kaoru Hanayama

Maaaaan it’s been so long and I am SO sorry. I kinda got out of my groove for a bit and life got overwhelming and draining, hence the radio silence. I wanted to come back with a little fic to get me back into the swing of things and since I have wanted to write for Hanayama for some time, this came about. It was based around a yandere prompt I saw that was “I love you so much, you have no idea what limits I would go to prove that to you.” I actually started writing this for Jack, had all kinds of issues, and decided to write it for Hanayama instead lol. I may still possibly post the little Jack fic I plucked at, but I am overall pretty meh about it so we’ll see. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I really want to work on writing some shorter stuff for a while. I am so in awe of all of you that can churn out these small masterpieces. My ass does NOT know when to shut up and when I start to write my brain is like no… You must explain EVERYTHING, which (whether my mind believes it or not) is not something that needs to be done. ( ͜。 ͡ʖ ͜。) So going through a lot of trying to unlearn that.

ANYWAY I will be quiet and leave this hear for your perusal. It is my gift for coming home (finally) and working to get back up to speed! Thank you all for reading anything I write, and thank you if you like it! I am constantly floored by how wonderful you all are, and I appreciate anyone that reads my stuff more than you all know. (╥﹏╥)

This fic is set a few years in the future, you and Hanayama are both adults and at this point he is even more of a Yakuza big shot. You play the starring role of his forced little mob princess wife, isn’t that sweet? I love romance! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

WARNINGS: Yandere, very dubcon (dare I say even noncon?), power imbalances, grooming, unwanted touching/kissing/heavy petting, forced marriage, mentions of violence and hints of cruelty, mentions of sex.

Some people may call this ‘the dream life’.

Sitting on this private beach, you soaked in the last of the sun’s rays before it dipped beyond your view. The world was bathed in a swirl of pinks and oranges as the sun sunk into the sea, the gentle lap of the waves coming so close the water nearly touched your toes. The sand beneath your feet was soft, still warmed by the quickly setting sun. Gulls cooed as they circled above you, the flap of their wings diminishing as they began to fly off for the night. You were envious of them as you watched them soar freely, pained by how easily they could fly away to their home.

If only you could be so lucky.

Drops of salt water dotted your arms, mingling with what was left of your sunscreen. Though you had long since applied it, the remnants of the lotion and sea water left a slightly uncomfortable film on your skin, flaking under your nails when you scratched at it. A gust of wind blew, sending a chill through you. Absentmindedly you wondered if despite your preparations, you had been burned.

“Do you plan to stay out here all night?”

Your breath caught in your throat, an all too familiar voice shattering the tranquility of the evening. You had been so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t notice the lumbering form coming up behind you, his arrival marking the end of your solitude.

Another gust of wind blew causing you to shudder once more. As it whipped wildly around you, your body grew colder. It was an unwelcome feeling, especially when just moments ago you were surrounded by such blissful warmth.

If only you could have just a few more minutes to yourself…

It had been a peaceful day, the nicest one you had had on this little honeymoon of yours. Kaoru Hanayama, your newly appointed husband, had been occupied most of the day, leaving you to your own devices. The peace that awarded was something you sorely needed, seeing as none of this was anything you had ever agreed to willingly.

But now that he had returned all the contentment you had felt moments prior had been drained away, the joy of this island paradise tainted by his unwanted presence.

The night Kaoru proposed he had told you that he could not imagine living a life without you by his side, that his love for you had grown so rampantly that he could no longer bear the thought of not having you officially. He had long since coerced you into being his lover, leaving marriage the logical next step. Brandishing a ring so extravagant it bordered on gaudy, Kaoru got down on one knee. The upper echelon of the Hanayama group surrounded you in a constricting, tight circle, each set of eyes on you fixated on the scene with great interest… Thinking back on it, you had no idea how you didn’t pass out from sheer anxiety.

At that point, you were doomed to become his blushing, beautiful bride.

To you, Kaoru was husband in name only. This marriage would be just another trial that had been forced upon you since meeting the man, his ceaseless infatuation continually ripping your life asunder. Needless to say, when he was off doing some important ‘family’ related things that ate up the majority of the day you didn’t have many complaints about his absence.

When he had departed this morning you did your best to look forlorn as he kissed you goodbye, shoulders slightly slumped as he ducked through the door, off to do god knows what to god knows who. Even as his now wife, you were never made privy to his ‘business’ dealings. So much of his life was shrouded in mystery, and you were just fine keeping it unknown.

You preferred when Kaoru was bogged down by work. If he was otherwise preoccupied that meant you had no expectation to be latched to his side, forced to play the role of obedient, doting wife. You abhorred the part you played in his life almost as much as you detested the man himself. It took years of whittling you down, making you shed piece after piece of yourself until you were everything he envisioned you would be, his perfect partner. He had molded you into his ideal love, and even though you knew you were sinking to a depth you were unsure you could ever escape, there was nothing you could do to stop it. It was hard going against a man who had the whole Yakuza at his fingertips, and the threat someone of Hanayama’s caliber posed against your family and friends was too high to risk insubordination.

So you acquiesced to his heavy handed flirting, playing along with his awkward and curt stabs at romance. You dropped everything for Hanayama, not because you wanted to, but because he expected it. And if there was one thing you gleaned about the mob life these past few years, it was what the boss wanted, the boss got.

He needed you in every way he could have you. You never had the option of saying no.

A heavy sigh came from behind you, annoyance radiating from your husband when you didn’t acknowledge him. Despite the irritation, the words he spoke came surprisingly gentle. “It’s time to come inside, (name). Dinner has arrived, it will be ready for us shortly.”

You wrapped your towel tightly around your shoulders, and with a deep shuddering breath, rose to your feet.

Silence hung heavy over the dinner table.

The meal Hanayama had served was nothing short of gourmet. ‘Only the finest for the finest’ was something he once joked to you, but he held firm to that ideal with every aspect of your life. The Oyabun’s wife was spared no expense, why would your meals be any different? A caterer must have come with him to set the table up when Kaoru first arrived home, as it was set in a way that was far too charming for just him to pull off. Flowers and delicate candles garnished the surface, giving the whole room a romantic feel. Condiments and spices stood within arm’s reach, concealed in aesthetically pleasing containers, ready to season the cuisine as you saw fit.

Sighing lightly, you raised your glass for another sip of champagne. Even with the pretty presentation, you lacked the appetite to enjoy the meal. Picking at it lazily, you swirled the food around to make it appear as though you had eaten more than you had, like a child desperate to meet their parent’s approval so they could leave the table.

“Aren’t you hungry,” Kaoru’s deep voice finally interjected, his own feasting halted to shoot you a questioning glance. “You’ve barely touched your dinner. I thought you liked this restaurant? I chose to cater from them to please you.”

“Sorry,” You gave him a forced smile, “The food is delicious, but I think I may have snacked too much today, so I don’t have much of an appetite right now.”

You always had to choose your words carefully with Kaoru, his doting had a tendency to become overbearing if he believed you to be suffering from any ills. The last thing you needed was him fretting over you missing a dinner. “I’ll have to box it up soon, that way I’ll have something to look forward to tomorrow.”

He grunted in response and an uneasy quiet once more loomed over the table. Hanayama did not seem totally appeased by your excuse, and refrained from placing his focus back on his meal. Dark, steely eyes bore holes into you as you sat hunched over, fixing your focus on anything but him.

“(Name)...”

He waited a moment before continuing, a look of brief tension flashing across his features.

“I know you are upset with me for leaving you alone all day, but you must know that I am sorry… Will you forgive me?”

To most people, this would be a shocking sight. It was highly unusual for a man like Kaoru Hanayama to be asking forgiveness so modestly, in fact, you were more apt to be groveling at his feet begging mercy than ever hearing the man beg pardon.

But things were different with you, they always had been. Try as he might to harden the soft spot he had for you, he never could seem to bring himself to give you the same detached treatment he gave others. And while his love for you was something he quite proudly displayed, he also refused to let his affections make either of you a target.

Being the Oyabun’s cherished wife put you in danger, his devotion to you making your demise extremely appealing to his enemies. The knowledge that your death would be a huge blow to the indomitable Hanayama was not lost on any who opposed him, but the problem laid in ever getting close to you. He certainly made it hard for anyone trying, finding a moment when you weren’t glued to his side was rare, finding you completely alone even more so.

However catching you by your lonesome was not entirely impossible, and leaving you vulnerable and ripe for assaulting was not something Kaoru could live with.

To combat this threat, he chose to lock you away so that no one could hurt you, touch you, see you, or ever be near enough to harm you. You were his and his alone, and he would let no other soul take you from him.

Ever since you had become ‘official’, the only people besides Hanayama ever allowed to have any correspondence with you were his closest inner circle and occasionally your family. But even then, Kaoru made sure he was always close by to monitor, hovering near to insure nothing untoward or upsetting could happen to you.

In your mind, the isolation hardly seemed necessary. No one ever questioned Hanayama’s might-one look at the man was all you needed to ascertain that he was a terrifyingly powerful figure. When you were in his vicinity your safety became his only care, any risk to that transforming him into a downright beast, bloodthirsty and rage filled beyond compare. Any unfortunate idiot wandering your way who held even a smidge of bad intent was in for a world of excruciating pain, followed by a slow and agonizing death.

But alone, in your own shared space away from prying eyes and hidden dangers, traces of that monster were nowhere to be found. When it’s just the two of you, Kaoru lets himself be overcome with his fondness for you, serenity overtaking his brute side. This display of vulnerability, these small moments of sickening intimacy, he saves solely for you, blanketing them upon you in suffocating layers until you can scarcely breathe.

“It was wrong of me to do,” He reached across the table, his thick hand encompassing yours in a tight grip. “A matter required my utmost attention, but it was not fair to leave my wife at any point during our honeymoon. This time is reserved for you and me alone, and I went against that. I just want you to know that I only left because I had to, and that I hurried back the moment I was able. I hope you can forgive me.”

If you could have done so consequence free, you would have burst out laughing. Of all the wrongs Hanayama had committed against you, giving you breathing room was the most minor of offences.

“It’s alright Kaoru,” you shook your head, keeping your voice even “I understand, and I’m not upset at you. I spent most of my day out enjoying the ocean while you had to get work done, so really I’m the one who should feel sorry for you in this situation, right?”

He smiled at your jest, a sparkle in his eyes as they drank you in.

“You are always my top priority,” Releasing your hand, he went to cup your cheek, engulfing the entirety of it. His calloused thumb pressed in a bit too hard as he stroked you, scratching at the soft skin of your cheeks apple. His hold was deeply uncomfortable, but you dared not move. “Don’t forget that, (name). Never question how much I treasure you.”

A chill ran through you at the intensity of his words, the rough feel of his palm reminding you of each violation his hands had ever committed against you. You watched as his eyes darted to your lips, a different kind of hunger overtaking his expression as he began to lean towards you, eager for a kiss. In a slight panic, you readjusted yourself, creating a moment to break away.

“W-well, I really need to get this boxed up,” you spoke, pushing off the table until you were standing. Hanayama’s hand lingered in the air for a brief moment, still savoring the memory of holding you. An aggravated look flashed through his eyes, but was gone as quick as it came. “I don’t want to keep it out too long or else it will go bad. I’ll go grab a box.”

If there was going to be a time to escape him for the evening, this was it. You sprang into action, darting around the table as you made your way to the kitchen. The faster you could box up this meal, the faster you could excuse yourself and leave the room while Hanayama took his time finishing. Though it only would buy you a few minutes of privacy in the long run, any time to yourself was worth the effort.

But just before you could completely round the table, a tight grip around your waist snatched you from your course. In an instant you were tugged to the side, plucked up and planted until you were straddling one of your husband’s girthy legs.

Before your brain could even fully register what had happened, he was on you. Desirous, sloppy kisses littered your face as a salacious grin spread across his lips, a low growl rumbling from his chest with each smack of his lips. Your head was spinning at the speed it all occurred, a protesting whine all you could muster as his lips feverishly claimed yours.

Sweat mingled with the scent of his cologne, the heady scent a sign that his actions were quickly and effectively getting him riled up. Overcome with the essence of him, you could do little to fight his intrusion of your personal space, your balled fists pressing against his chest doing all they could to try and create distance. His tongue worked violently, the muscle forcing itself inside you until you were nearly choking on it. Your whole body was thrumming with discontent over how quickly Hanayama came to control your every sensation, his sheer mass totally overpowering all that you were.

The feverish grip he had on your hips kept you rooted, grasping you as if you were his lifeline. Bruises were already starting to form around the press of his fingers, your flesh searing in his hot hold. His hands began to forcibly gyrate your body, rocking you against his leg so that the short skirt you donned had ridden up completely, the sheer fabric of your panties the only thing keeping you from the raw friction of his leg. Your breath hitched as he jostled you against him, small pulses of unwanted pleasure resulting from the action.

His lips parted from yours, moving to latch on your neck. A dull ache emanated from the area he sucked, the bruises he had marked you with days prior not yet completely healed. Without warning, he bit into the tender flesh, causing you to jolt. A dark chuckle rumbled from within him at your response, his tongue laving up the small trail of blood the fresh wound had inflicted.

“My pretty wife,” he murmured in your ear, brushing the straps of your top off your shoulders, “Being apart from you made this day seem never ending. I longed for the moment I could come back and have you all to myself.”

He grabbed one of your hands off his chest, trailing it down his body until coming to a rest on the growing bulge of his crotch. He released a shuddering breath as he thrust against your unwilling palm, his hand guiding yours to trail his length through his tightening pants. Dread gripped you as he began to harden under your touch, his already impressive size growing with each hesitant stroke. Feeling him throb beneath you made your stomach turn, a horrible precursor to the pain you were about to endure.

“Feel what you do to me?” He rasped in your ear, hot breath fanning your neck, “This is all for you.”

“Please Kaoru, I-” Your meek voice began to object, but was cut off by another domineering kiss.

“You don’t have to beg me,” his voice was growing more ragged, breathing becoming choppier the harder he grinded your body against his, “Let me spoil you tonight, it’s the least my beautiful wife deserves for being such a good, patient girl for me.”

Unable to stand the torment of your touches any longer, he stood, throwing you over his shoulder in a display you could almost call barbaric. Making his way towards the bedroom, he smacked your ass harshly, eliciting a pleased hum at the pained gasp the act had garnered.

“I was going to offer dessert after our meal, but you have presented something much sweeter to me,” he chuckled as he entered the bedroom, tossing you to the awaiting bed, “And what you offer is something I would much rather devour.”

Tears stung your eyes as you watched Kaoru begin to shed his clothing, his scarred body coming more into view with each piece of fabric he cast aside.

“Get undressed,” he ordered, lust dripping from his features. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, before shooting you a cocky grin, “I can wait no longer. I love you so much, and you have no idea the limit’s I’ll go through to prove that to you.”

He took a step forward, inching his way up the bed, “But tonight, I don’t intend to stop until you understand.”

#baki x reader #yandere baki #yandere baki the grappler #hanayama kaoru x reader #hanayama kaoru #yandere hanayama kaoru #baki the grappler #baki reader insert #yandere fic #yandere reader insert #baki the grappler x reader #baki the grapper reader insert #baki the grappler fanfic #it has been 500 years and I am so sorry please enjoy #mothwingswritings

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iridescent-petrichor · 2 years

Text

we’re just friends, right?

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: none, just a classic jealousy trope with a side of accidental confessions :D

Words: 2.4K

A/N: been gone for forever lol but i moved so!!! that was stressful!!!! but im back now so hopefully more fics coming soon !!

You’d been friends with Steve for a couple of years now, getting quite close to him after the demogorgon attack at the Byers' house with Jonathan and Nancy. The trauma bonded the two of you more than you had expected, especially when you kept having to band together to protect the kids every year since.

Today, though, was an ordinary afternoon. You stood at the counter of Family Video, watching Steve stumbling in, still throwing his vest on as he rushed into the building.

“Hey!” He smiled when he saw you, swerving around a customer not much older than either of you as they left, finding his usual spot next to you.

“You know you were supposed to start an hour ago, right?” You asked, biting back a smile.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t expect to run so late today.” He sighed, finally getting his outfit situated, looking at himself in the reflection of a television, patting his hair down.

You knew he went on a date the night before. He told you and Robin about it for hours before it actually happened, and you spent most of his rant ignoring Robin’s pitying looks.

“Was it something with…” You trailed off, honestly not even remembering the girl’s name. He’d gone on so many dates recently that you found it hard to keep track.

“Margaret! Or- Maggie.” He exclaimed, the smile on his face when he said her name making your stomach churn. “Yeah, I actually spent the night.”

You knew what he meant by that. It’s not like he was being subtle about it, waggling his eyebrows with a sly grin on his face. Turning away, you tried to busy yourself so he didn’t see the frown growing on your face.

Steve, oblivious, kept talking. He continued mindlessly about Maggie and their date and how wonderful she was and how well she listened and how he’s considering asking her out again.

“I was thinking dinner and a movie this Friday, what do you think?”

“She’d love that, I’m sure.” You muttered, already trying to tune him out. You turned your focus to the movies you were stocking, losing yourself in your thoughts while you easily set the new releases on the shelf on the display at the front of the store.

It didn’t take long before you noticed how quiet the store was. Looking up, you noticed Steve must’ve gone to a different part of the store, already distracted by something else he had to do. Brushing it off, you went back to work. Plus, it’s not like you were jealous of Maggie. Definitely not.

You couldn’t help the sigh escaping your lips, pushing your feelings down like you were so used to doing. You and Steve were such good friends now that there was no way you were gonna confess your annoying feelings for him just to ruin everything you two had built over the years.

The rest of your shift was… difficult… to say the least. You knew Steve could sense something was wrong, but you managed to sneak out of the conversation every time he was about to bring it up. That lasted for hours until you quickly clocked out and waved goodbye to him, taking a slight detour on the way home.

Pulling up to an all too familiar house, you climbed out of your car and made your way up to knock at the front door. There was an audible shuffling throughout the house before the door swung open, revealing another dear coworker of yours.

“Hey!” Robin smiled, opening the door wider to let you in.

You followed her into her room, collapsing onto her bed once she shut the door.

“Jeez, what happened to you?” She asked, taking a seat next to you.

“Steve.” You groaned, sighing heavily.

“Oh god, is it that date he had with that girl?”

“Maggie.” The name tasted sour on your tongue, and Robin stifled a laugh, laying down next to you.

“You know he doesn’t actually like her, right?” She asked, laughing lightly when she saw the confusion on your face. “He doesn’t like any of these girls, that’s why he never takes them on a second date.”

“That’s the thing, Robin!” You shot up, suddenly upright in her bed. “He said he’s thinking of asking her out again! Dinner, movie, this Friday!”

Robin was quiet for a moment, clearly not anticipating that.

“Yeah.” You said, giving her a disappointed look.

“Listen, I haven’t been friends with Steve for as long as you have, but I do have eyes.” Slowly, she sat up as well. “Whenever you’re not looking at him, Steve stares at you like… like you’re the greatest thing in the universe. Honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t caught him, he’s practically drooling over you every time you’re in the room.”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes at Robin. “I think you need glasses, Rob.”

“I think you do!” She laughed, shoving you gently.

“Whatever.” You muttered, glancing down at your hands that sat in your lap. “I should head home, anyway. Gotta prepare for my shift tomorrow.”

Robin nodded. “Same here. I’ll see you at work!”

You got up, Robin following you as you walked to your car. She hung back at the front door, calling out to you as she started to close it.

“Think about what I said!”

And you did.

The whole drive home you couldn’t help getting your hopes up, thinking that maybe there is a chance that Steve Harrington actually liked you.

Your mind wandered to everything he said, always giving you his full attention like you were saying the most important thing in the world

But that’s just how he was. It’s not like that’s exclusive to you.

Still, though, there was a small but ever-growing spark of hope deep within you that Robin started, festering until you parked your car in your driveway and trudged into your house, making your way to your own bedroom.

Despite your frustrations, you kept replaying every memory you could hold onto of Steve. You began overthinking everything – every little touch, everything he’d said to you, the way he said it, the way he looked at you, when you would catch him staring…

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

You groaned, slapping a hand over your eyes.

You’re delusional if you think he’d ever actually like you.

The doubt within you was still stronger than your hopes, bringing you back to the reality of having a crush on someone who was only friends with you because you killed monsters together.

You finally decided to go to sleep, tired from a long shift and a day of overthinking, unrequited pining, and false hopes.

The next morning came far too soon, and now the light shining through your window was keeping you from falling back asleep. You stumbled out of bed, getting ready as fast as you could before throwing a Family Video vest over your shirt and driving off to work.

When you arrive, you see Robin first. She perks up when she sees you, waving as you enter. You wave back, the grin on your face only faltering when you notice Steve standing towards the back of the store, chatting up some girl.

“Shit.”

“Yeah.” Robin gave you a tightlipped smile as you stood next to her, looking away to avoid the pitying look in her eyes.

“It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s not like I’m in love with him.” You can tell by the way she looks at you that she doesn’t believe a word you’re saying, and at this point, you’re not sure you do either.

Steve hears your voice, thankfully not actually hearing the words you were saying, easily slipping out of the conversation with the girl he’d been talking to so he could make his way behind the counter next to you.

“Hey, you’re on time!” He smiled, folding his arms as he approached you.

“Yeah, I can actually manage that.” You quipped, mimicking his pose.

“Okay, okay, like you’ve never made one mistake.” He rolled his eyes. Robin took a step back, slowly making her way out of the room while the two of you talked.

“Nope. Never made a single mistake. Not once.” Steve’s eyes widened, faux shock in his eyes.

“Oh, really? You sure about that?”

You didn’t have the chance to respond before a loud throat clearing made the two of you jump back, seeing the girl from moments ago standing in front of the register, frustration evident on her face. She was giving you the dirtiest look she could muster, but Steve waved it off, quickly ringing her up before he turned back to you.

“Anyways, did you hear the kids are planning a dnd campaign?”

The girl scoffed, grabbing her movie and leaving the store. Steve didn’t look back at her, and you had to bite your cheek to hold back the grin on your face.

“…Y/N?” Steve waved a hand in front of your face, getting your attention.

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” You forced yourself out of your thoughts, looking to Steve. “What’s up?”

“…You’ve been weird lately, you okay? Any demogorgons in your head?” Lightly, he knocked on your head, making you laugh.

“Yeah, no, yeah, I’m fine.” Just grappling with my feelings for you.

“You sure?” The concern in his voice made you weak, and you take a breath to hold everything back. Every confession on your tongue, everything you took the time to notice when no one else would. How he always checks the darkest corners of a room when he walks in, and how he never fully lets himself relax. How he still keeps that stupid bat in his car because he’s terrified that if he doesn’t have it and something happens he won't be able to protect anyone. How he hates driving at night because he’s worried something’s gonna leap out of the shadows. How he checks in on everyone else because no one ever thinks to check in on him.

“Y/N?” You look up, seeing Steve still standing there, giving you a concerned look.

“Yeah,” Then, more convincingly, “Yeah, I’m sure.” You give him a warm smile that he returns, trying to ignore the worry in his eyes.

The way Steve looked at you made your head spin, and for a moment you let yourself pretend that he could actually think of you that way. That he could care for you. That he could love you.

You turn away, trying to busy yourself despite how dead the store was. It was the middle of the day on a Thursday, so everyone and their mothers were spending their time anywhere but there. You felt like you were underwater, stuck in your own brain analyzing every little thing Steve did.

The way he stood so close to you, the affection he gave you, the way he looks at you like you’re the only person that matters, always making sure you’re okay…

Yeah, I’m fine. It’s not like I’m in love with you.

“What was that?” You froze, risking a glance at Steve. He stood there, looking just as surprised as you felt, and you knew you were in deep shit.

All those days hiding your feelings and biting your tongue finally came to a head.

“I-” You tried to speak, but you couldn’t do anything more than stand there like a deer in headlights.

“What did you say?” Steve took a tentative step closer, and you felt like the world was closing in on you.

“I mean, c’mon,” You scoffed, looking anywhere but him. “It’s not like you didn’t know. Everyone knew.”

“No, I think I would definitely remember knowing that you were, what was it, in love with me?” You couldn’t tell if he was mocking you or not, and you felt your mouth dry up, staring harshly at the ground.

“Steve.” You warned, voice weaker than you wanted it to be.

His eyes widened when he realized you were shutting down, frantic to make sure you wouldn’t get the wrong idea.

“Y/N, if you told me sooner you were in love with me then I wouldn’t have had to go on all those stupid dates!” He rushed, putting his hands on either side of your shoulders.

You made eye contact with him, brain short-circuiting as you tried to process what he was saying.

“Hey,” His voice gently brought you back into the present moment, giving you a small smile. “Do you remember a couple of years back, at Jonathan’s place, when we were all waiting for those demodogs to show up? And everyone was exhausted and terrified and trying to prepare for a war against these stupid… things from another dimension?”

“Yeah. I remember.” You said quietly.

“Well, I was trying to get ready, and I looked over at you, and you were talking to Max. She was trying to pretend she was okay but you said you saw that she was terrified out of her mind, so you sat with her for a minute calming her down. You made sure she knew that you wouldn’t let anything happen to her, that you would make absolutely sure that none of the kids were getting hurt.” You remembered it like it was yesterday. Max was shaking, but she was trying so hard to stand strong, so you pulled her aside and tried to reassure her. You didn’t even know Steve noticed when that happened.

“Then,” Steve continued. “When we were all waiting for the monsters to come to kill us all, you stood at the front of the group, more than ready to protect everyone with your life. It was… I mean, I was terrified for you. I thought that I was going to lose you, and I would never have the chance to tell you I was in love with you.”

You felt your heart swell. “…What?”

“You know,” Steve laughed, “I’m surprised you didn’t see right through me. Robin immediately did; she gave me hell every time I told her I had a new date. I figured you just didn’t like me back.”

“Are you kidding, how could I not?” The look on Steve’s face made you slap a hand over your mouth, not wanting to spill anything else you’d been holding back.

“So… What do you say we get dinner tonight? My treat.” He offered, grinning from ear to ear.

“I’d love that, Steve.”

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader

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beybaldes · 1 year

Text

the woman that loves you (boy you're such a fool)

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

djats masterlist

Word Count : 3.1k

Summary : the end of the band is just the beginning for y/n and her favourite bassist.

normal = flashbacks ,, italics = interviews

Warning!! I have not read the book or the show!!! All info I have gathered has been from other x readers I have read. sorry in advance if I have butchered your fav show/book because i have plainly made shit up in favour of satiating my own need for more Eddie fics xoxo

Y/n: I think about that last day all the time. I think about everything I should've said or done. But I don't think it would've changed anything honestly - everyone seemed pretty set on what they wanted for the band. Who was I to change that?

your legs pulled from warrens lap, quickly jumping from you seat and running out of the bus, desperate to reach the cab before it could pull out and take Eddie away. whatever was out there had been on your side, your hard pull open of the door stopping the driver from leaving as he put it into gear and got ready to leave.

"I'm so sorry" you said to the grey haired man in the front seat, turned to Eddie with a creased brow. "I'll only be a minute."

"birdie..." he hummed, pushing his sunglasses away from his eyes, letting them meet your own. "let me go, I need to leave, I can't stay here - not with Billy, not after everything."

"I'm not asking you to stay, Ed's." You murmured, tears brimming your eyes as you placed one knee into the cab, tucking yourself into the crook of his neck, one arm holding the door open. "I know that's not fair. I just don't want you to leave without saying goodbye."

Though you couldn't see it, tears began to pool in eddies eyes at the way your voice trembled and your words came out in a whisper - like a little kid too upset to really get the words out. When he'd packed up his things and called the cab he had only thought about leaving, getting away from all of it and getting to be his own person - he'd yet to consider that he'd be leaving some of his nearest and dearest friends behind in doing so. That he'd be leaving you behind.

Eddie: I'd never done anything as hard as leaving the band. At least not until y/n stopped the cab to speak to me.

"I got to go birdie, I got a plane to catch." soon half a continent would separate you, something so scary when for the last decade you'd only been a street, a room or a curtain away at all times.

"Just gimme one more moment." You tried to savour the feel of his arms around you, holding your body tight and close as if it was the last time he was going to do so. 'it probably was the last time he was going to do so,' the thought made your stomachs churn and your whimpers boarder on full on sobs. If it weren't for the fact you wanted your last moments together to be happy, you would've just let it all out, cry into his arms like the little kid your rise to fame never let you be. "Just one more moment."

Camilla: Y/n. She, she was always the closest with Eddie. They were like two peas in a pod - I don't think I'd ever seen one without the other somewhere nearby.

With a particularly tight squeeze, you pulled away, knowing that no hug would last long enough to satiate the longing ache already settled deep in the pit of your stomach.

Eddie was quick to wipe at the tears that silently rolled down your cheeks, his large hand cupping your face as his thumb stroked across the apple of your red cheek. "I'm gonna miss you, birdie."

"Not as much as I'm gonna miss you, Ed's." You pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, trying to tell him everything you didn't have the time to say in what could easily be passed off as a misjudgement of closeness. "Please don't be a stranger."

Eddie didn't say anything else. He let you close the cab door and stand on the side of the pavement, watching as he drove off and away from the six, away from you. Only when the cab was out of sight did either of you let the tears fall, not wanting the other to be saddened by your own heartbreak. Though, when had goodbyes ever been easy?

Billy: Y/n had always been a sensitive girl. But the band had been her whole world - each of us, we, had been her whole world. I think it truly broke her when the band broke up that day.

Furiously you wiped at your tears, trying to clear your face before you returned to your seat on the tour bus, knowing now that it was unlikely the six would continue past this moment, and that more goodbyes would probably be in order. You could cry it all out on the flight you were sure you'd have to book later today.

Making your way back to the tour bus, you silently got back on, not even making it to your seat before you broke down in tears again. Your knees couldn't hold your weight any longer, and as you began to sink to the floor, Warren was quick to spring from his seat, wrapping you in his arms and lowering you to the floor at a gentle pace. He gently stroked his fingers through your hair, shushing you as the pair of you rocked back and forth on the floor of the tour bus. Karen was quick to join the two of you, pressing a kiss to your temple and letting her own tears fall in the group hug containing the final members of the 6.

Y/n: Karen and Warren - I'd always been good fiends with them. But that day, on the bus, it became something different then. They're my best friends in the world now. Karen was the maid of honour at my wedding. I did ask Warren but he refused, claiming it only made sense for it to be Karen.

"It's okay sweet girls." Warren whispered to the two girls that were now cradled in his arms, all three of the in a mess of limbs and tears on the floor of the tour bus. "Everything's going to be okay."

"Warren had been right of course." You paused with a smile, waiting for Julia to adjust the camera so that both you and Eddie fit into the frame; his arm wrapped around your waist pulling you into his side, a kiss pressed to your temple after which he gazed down at you lovingly. "Everything was okay, in the end. Eddie called me the second he landed back in Pittsburgh, correctly guessing I'd still be on the tour bus with Warren and Karen."

"Thank god I'd been right (about the tour bus)." Eddie smiled, pressing another kiss to your temple, relishing in the feel of his arm that was around your waist, knowing he'd never have to lose that feeling as long as he played his cards right. "I don't know what I'd have done if she hadn't picked up. If I'd lost her for good."

"Hello." You murmured into the phone, the loud ringing having woke you from your sleep. Thankfully, Warren and Karen were still asleep to your right, the ringing noise not waking them after the exhaustion of getting through such an eventful and emotional day. "Who is it?"

"Birdie..."

You sat upright at the voice on the other end of the line, sleep vanishing from your eyes. "Eddie." You whined, fingers scratching at the phone as if you could claw you way through it and into his arms. "I miss you."

"I know birdie, I miss you too."

"How'd you know to call here?" You and Karen were crashing in Warrens room, the three of you too upset to be left alone and not wanting to pay for three separate rooms when money was now going to be an issue.

"I figured you'd end up in bed with Warren, or Karen, or both. I called each room until you picked up." A soft smile graced your features at the thought of Eddie calling every room until he found you. He knew you so well. "I'm back in Pittsburgh, I want you to come with me."

It had taken Eddie seconds to realise the mistake he'd made in leaving the band. Not in the way of leaving the band, but rather in the way it meant leaving you, too. But his cab was going and his flight had been paid for.

"I... I love you, birdie." Eddie whispered, unsure if he was allowed to say such words after how hard he'd made you cry just hours before. "I don't want to not have you in my life. And I'm not calling just because I need someone right now, or because I regret leaving the band. I'm calling because I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you in it, and when you realise that you do something about it."

Eddies words had you shocked to silence, his voice calling out for you several times in the moments that you took to process what he'd just said. "Birdie, please say something."

"I'll tell you I love you too when you pick me up from the airport tomorrow at 11."

You could feel the smile that filled Eddies face through the phone.

"Am or Pm?"

Your hand interlinked with Eddies as you let your head fall to his shoulder, wrapped up in the memory of your first day out of the band. "It was difficult to say goodbye to Karen, her flight going back to England when both mine and Warren's were going back to Pittsburgh. It hurt a lot to see her go."

"I was in tears the whole flight." Karen laughed, wiping away a stray tear as she recalled when you and Warren left her at the gate to get your own flight. "But I called y/n as soon as I landed, and she told me she'd already booked flights to come and visit in a month. She's always been so good to me, to all of us, like that."

You'd slept on Warren's shoulder for most of the flight, his head atop yours as your dreamt about what life would bring going forward. Neither of you wanted to stay in Pittsburgh, but knew it was right for the moment, to take a deep breath and remind yourself of who you were before the band - without the band. Warren's long-time girlfriend, Lisa, had been the first person you saw once you escaped baggage claim, her running into his arms the moment she spotted him, but not forgetting to give you a hug of your own and a kiss to your cheek.

"My girl now, Rojas." You teased, pulling Lisa into side hug, hear head falling to your shoulder with a bright smile.

"Already forgetting about me?" You were quick to turn around at the sound of Eddie's voice, dropping your luggage and crashing into his arms, pressing kisses to his cheeks again and again, only stopping when he placed two fingers under your jaw and turned you to face him, finally giving you a real kiss after years of dancing around each other.

"Finally!" Warren shouted, head thrown back in laughter as he watched the two of you address all those lingering looks and hugs and touches that had happened over the past few years. "I better be invited to the wedding!"

"She told you that?" Warren scoffed, pulling the lit cigarette from his mouth, tapping the burnt butt into his ash tray before replacing it between his lips. "I only refused to be her maid of honour because Eddie asked me to be his best man first. How could I say no to being her maid of honour otherwise?"

"I love you too." You gasped out, pulling away from the kiss with Eddie. "I love you too. I love you so damn much it keeps me up at night, you're all I think about, all the time."

"I love you even more then that, birdie." Eddie nuzzled his nose against yours, quick to pull you in for another kiss that had Warren shouting at the pair of you to 'get a room.'

"Y/n did fulfil her promise." Karen nodded, thinking about her life long friendship with the brunette she'd met by chance. "She came to visit three weeks later. I was so excited. We spent a lot of time taking about the solo career I'd been planning for myself and how she could come along, be my opener for the American leg of the tour I would hopefully do - I didn't even notice the ring on her finger until her third day there!"

"I proposed the same night she got back to Pittsburgh. The girl had just flown halfway across the country cause she didn't know how to be without me, and I'd practically begged her to do it because I didn't know how to live without her. How could not?" Eddie retold with a soft smile gracing his features. It was one of the things you'd come to love the most in his old age; how soft and loving his features were when we wasn't stressing about the six, or Billy.

"I can't believe you came all this way, for me." Eddie mused later that night, the two of you face to face in his childhood bed, not wanting to fall asleep in fear this would all be some dream.

"How could I not?" You asked, pulling one of your hands out from beneath the duvet, pushing a strand of Eddies overgrown hair out of his eyes and safely behind his ear, careful to avoid brushing against the black eye nursing on his cheek. "Like you said, Ed's, I want to spend the rest of my life with you in it. Why would I wait to start the rest of my life when I could start it right now?"

Eddie pressed a hot and firm kiss to your lips, pulling away and resting his forehead against you own, a lovesick smile gracing his face. "You're exactly right birdie. Exactly right." Another series of kisses were pressed all over your face, starting at your lips, moving to your cheeks, then your forehead and back to your lips again. "Why wait when forever can start right now?"

Eddie pulled off one of his rings, holding it out in the small gap between the two of you. "Marry me."

It hadn't been a question.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I have no doubt in that. And I know more then anything, I want the rest of my life to start right now; I've spent years not doing that, and I don't want to wait another day. Marry me."

"It was quite the bold ask." You giggled, curling into Eddies side with a bright smile. "But who could say no to such a face?"

"Yes." You whispered into the darkness of the room you'd spent so many of your formative years in. "Yes." Eddie slipped the ring on your finger, pressing another series of hot and firm kisses all over your face.

"He promised to go out and buy a real ring the following morning." You explained to Julia, sticking your hand out towards the camera to show her that your engagement ring was just as simple of a band as your wedding one. "But I told him a didn't want one. This one meant more."

"She gave me that ring as a gift for my 15 birthday." Eddie mused, reaching for you hand and toying with the ring that'd sat on your finger for the last 20 years. It should've sat there for a lot longer, he thought. "It seems kind of full circle that it's ended up back in her possession. But she wouldn't have it any other way."

"I was happy for them, y'know." Daisy smiled, thinking back onto the pictures you'd sent her of your wedding day, her choosing not to come to keep any peace you may have had that day. "Glad to see more then just Warren came out of the band happy. Really happy."

"We only had a small wedding." You explained, the day feeling minutes ago rather then almost 20 years ago now. Where had the time gone? "Warren and Karen came, but everyone else didn't. I asked Cami to come, but she felt it'd be better if she didn't. I understood of course, things were different then, but it hurt me a lot - that the people I'd spent everyday of the few years of my life with didn't want to come to my wedding."

Eddie squeezed your hand tighter, pressing a kiss to your hair. "It was a hard day for y/n. But despite everything, we had the best time; it was the perfect day, honestly."

"Everyone came to visit sooner or later, one at a time, to congratulate us, apologise for not coming. Graham was the first to come and visit." You let out a low laugh as you dwelled on the memory. "I wish I had a photo to show you of the face he made when he realised I was pregnant."

"I'm sorry... what?" Graham choked out, unmoving in the doorway to your house as he stared at the baby bump that had formed under your summer dress. "Since when were you pregnant?"

"It wasn't the way I meant to say it." Graham denied. "It had been about 4 months since the band broke up, and only 1 month since they got married. I was just surprised!"

"Since just over 3 months ago." You laughed, pulling him into your house with a kind smile, taking hold of his bag for him and leading him towards your guest room. "Don't tell Eddie, but I think it's a girl."

"Oh! Of course she did!" Eddie laughed, his head thrown back over the cushions of the loveseat the two of you were cuddled on. "Though, not that I said anything at the time, I knew it was a girl."

"I'm sure you did." You nudged Eddie in his side, intertwining your fingers with his and letting your head fall to his shoulder. "Our Janie was born 6 months later. She was beautiful. 6 pounds and 8 ounces."

"She just started college last year, it's weird for the house to be so empty." Eddie added, a slight frown settling into his features. He missed Janie every day she was gone, that little girl - his little girl - being the absolute light of his life.

"You didn't have any other kids?" Julia asked, head peaking up just over the top of the camera she was recording the two of you with.

"No. Just our Janie. She was perfect. We didn't need another. Spitting image of her mother, with my rocking personality." It was moments like this, where Eddie spoke so fondly of you, your daughter, your family, that you knew - despite the hurt the band caused you across the years - every second had been worth it.

"Yeah, it was perfect. All perfect."

#djats x reader #djats imagine #eddie roundtree x reader #eddie roundtree imagine #eddie roundtree oneshot #eddie roundtree #eddie loving x reader #eddie loving imagine #eddie loving onehsot #eddie loving #daisy jones and the six x reader #daisy jones and the six imagine

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citruslullabies · 1 month

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Oii bom dia!

So, I don't know if you remember me, I'm the girl who said that loved the Catnap x Fox!Reader fic and wanted a part two!

So, here I am, with all my glory (wich it's not much) to make this little request, with some angst if you get me

You've been giving us too much sugar, I don't want to be diabetic/j

(Also, sorry for my terrible english, I'm not using a translator this time, and I suck at writing, I really need to practice it)

I'm a little rusty with writing full blown gore, so apologies!

Trigger warnings: blood, HEAVY gore, all that stuff again‼️DO NOT INTERACT IF EASILY DISTURBED‼️

Romantic/platonic?: unspecified

Requested by: liznarfox (@liznarfox look what you made me do)

Category: heavy angst boysssss

Ship (romantic or platonic): Catnap x fox smiling critter!reader

Word count: 1029 (my longest yet)

A Helping Paw: Severed Hands

You had been made to be of help to Catnap, made to be his best friend and his guide through it all.

That's all the more motivation for him to follow the prototype, to save himself and to save you. A part of him wanted to let you in on the plans but he knew you too well, and knew you'd be far too fearful to go through with them unless thrown in the action. Countless nights he'd stay locked away with only you by his side, tricked by your own feelings to check on your friend growing more and more distant only to fall asleep by his side as he stroked your fur lovingly.

He began to grow incredibly thin, his smile growing larger and his face somewhat distorted with wide disturbing eyes. They scared you, but he knew it'd all make sense to you one day.

The hour of joy was finally here, and all hell broke loose. You were panting and running through your sobs, trying to find the others and a way out. You wanted to throw up at how violent everyone had become, it was sickening. At each twist and turn you saw someone get torn apart, nearly vomiting once you stepped on something squishy and wet looking down to realize it was a tongue still twitching from being freshly ripped out of someone's skull.

Your ears were flat as you ran fast on your feet, tears rolling down your fluffy face as you breathed raggedly. But a glint of hope shined through your eyes when you saw Catnap in the distance. “Catnap-! There you are, we have to go!” You said, running over to him and fast but soon slowing down when seeing how he behaved.

Catnap's jaw unhinged like a snake, his paw down his throat as he pulled out remnants of bones. Your eyes locked on him before they slowly trailed down to the bodies of children torn apart In front of him, one of them still barely alive and trying to play dead but it would only be a matter of time before they were. They were too far gone, with their body practically torn in two and their eye closest to the ground burst like a cracked egg just left on the counter with the yolk spilling out.

The room stunk heavily of blood and tears, the blood in the carpet soaking into your feet and squelching with every step you took away. Your feline friend looked up and over at you, his once friendly face vile and terrifying, with his chin red as if he just finished eating a pomegranate.

“(Your name)...” He purred out, suddenly approaching. The disgusting sound like a sponge being squeezed every time he took a heavy step on the ruined carpet made your stomach twist and churn, but all you could focus on was the horrifying figure approaching you. One you used to call a friend.

You gulped as you looked around, eyes darting the rather large room where orphans used to play but you eventually had to face him again. His eyes were wide and murderous, causing your tail to tuck between your legs. “C-catnap.. why did you do this?” You slowly asked, chest feeling heavy as if you were about to dry heave from the sight caused by your friend. It was a miracle you managed to stomach everything you had seen and smelled.

He was silent, just getting closer and stopping once he was close enough. He pressed his nose against yours, purring despite you having to swallow your own throw up from the smell escaping the hollow shell of your best friend. He looked at you with eyes so cold yet so warm. “I did it… for us… the prototype will save us…” He cooed, once again saying the same sentence he had been saying for months. The prototype will save us. And yet it never made sense, and it still didn't.

You gulped and pulled your face away, clenching your eyes shut as you felt queasy from the smell reeking from him as if the blood soaked into his fur and bones. “What do you mean by that?? Is this what you've been talking about?” You asked in disbelief, taking a step back. With a pur the feline responded. “Yes… isn't it wonderful?” He cooed, watching you shake your head in disbelief and disgust. Catnap fell silent before speaking up again, his voice no longer holding any affection for you as he began to understand that you didn't hold the same viewpoint as he did, that you didn't understand why he did all of this and would only see him as a monster.

“You're meant to help me. To understand me… I see I was wrong.” He said coldly, looking down at you with blank eyes but that same smile he could never seem to get rid. Not even in his most manic times. “Thank you for your care, fox. I will save you in the only other way I know how to.”

Suddenly, a red smoke filtered in the room. He watched as you tried to fight against it, tried to run to the door but you collapsed against the carpeted floor instead. At least this way would be painless for you, or so he hoped. He carefully picked you up in his paws, adoring you like how you once adored him before he carefully cut you open as if you were a frog in a science class. He emptied out everything you had inside, his paws shivering at the feeling of your squishy interior and the warmth that would have at one point comforted him when you were whole.

He left your insides and bones on the floor, but kept your heart. He swore he could still hear it beating, the sound driving him even further into insanity but he kept it close in your memory. With one last nuzzle, he left you there. You had betrayed him in his eyes, and he saved you the only way he could.

He killed you out of mercy, not wanting to see you suffer like any other heretics.

Thanks for requesting! And part one is here

#i tried with the gore #tw gore #tw g0re #poppy playtime #smiling critters #poppy playtime x reader #catnap poppy playtime #poppy playtime catnap #poppys playtime #catnap #catnap x you #catnap x y/n #catnap x reader #catnap smiling critters

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lilbeanz · 2 months

Note

Hello! Not an ask, just wanted to say I adore your content; you're so skilled. I came across your art first, and the drama of even the smallest panel; I'd been eyeing JoDT & sequels for awhile because it was a WIP, but I caved and binged bks1-4 in about three days. I reread the "Eat your heart out Pureblood society" scene at least once a day, thank you for that, superb execution. I also really liked, in the first book, the interactions between Malfoy & Harry, and the very gradual "well, he's our friend now." The development of their friendship has done a great job of re-defining the characters and their relationships. The series feels like its own thing, and the fact that Ginny never even had the diary in book 2 only cemented that. I've really appreciated the deviation from Draco-the-tortured-hero/Draco-making-amends (which I also love to read). Horrors of the Heir was a great twist and really put the whole series in another tier, tbh. CoS was like, my least favorite of the series as a kid (alongside GoF, which has grown on me as I read fanfic) and your version of bk 2 easily established the micro-obsession of your series for me. Also, Crabbe & Goyle?? "They're actually really good friends"?? "Just to see if we feel anything"?? Adorable. Obsessed.

tldr; Your rewrite of the series is incredibly unique, and I admire how you've really taken the series and made it something completely fun and new and modern 💜💜💜

Looking forward to the rest. Thank you for sharing!

AaaAaaAaaHhhHhhHh?!??!?!

This is such a lovely comment, I can't even -- I -- I'm --

Thank you so much! I'm so glad you're enjoying the series so far! It really has been such a challenging, fun project!

I adored writing the "Eat Your Heart Out" scene. People tend to forget that Draco Malfoy is canonically *very* dramatic when he wants to be. Yes, he can be sulky and scheming, but he also shouts taunts across the courtyard, and puts on scenes to make older students laugh at Harry’s expense, even going so far as to dress up as a Dementor to make his "rival" lose in Quidditch.

The Horror of the Heir was such an experience for me as the author, because CoS is my favourite book from the series (weird, ik) and looking back, I sort of realise I could’ve squeezed in so much more. But last May, 45k was a HUGE amount of words for me! And now I'm churning out 100k like nobody's business 💀

✨️Growth✨️

And speaking of growth, the reason I had Draco take Tom Riddle’s diary was purely because of growth. It would've taken him far longer to change as a person if he hadn't taken Ginny's place. A pivotal character development moment, as he reflects on his upbringing etc...

Crabbe and Goyle generally get overlooked in the fandom, and it really bugs me. Vince dies canonically, yes, but I absolutely love it when fic writers incorporate Greg as an actual character in post-war fics, and acknowledge that Vince was Draco’s friend.

It's always Blaise, Pansy, and Theo because they're intelligent and societies definition of "attractive." I mean, each to their own of course, but I could write an entire essay on the injustice I feel for Crabbe and Goyle!

And then, of course, the development of Draco’s relationship with the Golden Trio, specifically Harry. Just -- Ugh-- these silly kids make me so unhinged!😂

It wouldn't be all sunshine and rainbows to begin with. Of course it wouldn't. It's a rocky start, with bumps along the way (and more big bumps to come), but I really do love the way I have progressed their relationship, and I'm not even gonna be humble about it! I really do love my own fic!!!

All this to say, thank you so much!!! I realise fix-its are a very popular type of fic to write, but I really do try to keep it as fresh and unique as possible, so the fact that I really am able to give my readers an experience means the world to me💖

#lovely lovely people #asks and replies #jodt #journal of dreadful things #lilbeanz #💖💖💖💖

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archie-sunshine · 4 months

Text

Survey Says-! (18+ Rodimus/EVERYONE)

Chapter 5: Software Update (Rodimus/Brainstorm/Perceptor)

Rodimus is NOT bitter about the results of the crew satisfaction survey, in fact, he’s fully prepared to change! He’s determined to change his crew’s minds, and what better way to do so than to get to know them- in the carnal sense that is.

There are no problems with this plan in Rodimus’s mind. There are many in Ultra Magnus’s. Magnus engages in some unfortunate(for Rodimus) damage control as head of Cybertronian Resources. Rodimus is not easily deterred.

Other Chapters Here! Read On AO3 Here!

____________________________

FIC TAGS: Rodimus/Everyone(But y’know, not like. EVERYONE. Just a lot of various background characters and also more specifically with some others), Takes place post dark cybertron, but pre the whole ship disappearing thing and the mutiny, smut, Chastity, denial, Rodimus is a slut, Ongoing humiliation, HR Violations as comedy, Ultra Magnus is clueless, sticky sexual interfacing, comedy, sexual comedy, dubious consent (if you squint and tilt your head), contains illustrations

____________________________

Authors notes: Okay you guys simply MUST hear me out on this one okay? this one was the fun chapter for archie to have fun writing. okay? okay. btw this chapter is extra long bc it kinda got away from me

CHAPTER TAGS: Plug n play, brain fuckery, submission, bondage, brief loss of bodily control, threesome, throatfucking, thigh fucking, rodimus is ignored in favour of whatever the fuck percey and brainstorm have going on

The broken dataslug felt like it was a thousand tons bouncing around in Rodimus’s subspace. He could keep kicking himself about his fuck up, and probably would be for the forseeable future, but he was on the way to fix things. He could faintly hear the sounds of work down the hallway from the lab, the fizzle of sparks and the whirr of machinery. Rodimus prayed that he’d catch Perceptor alone again.

He tried not to feel too upset when he heard the sounds of conversation floating from the laboratory.

“-mit its impressive, certainly, but the scale is a bit much for our current facilities, wouldn’t you think?” Perceptor’s voice reached Rodimus first, even and calm even slightly shouted over the sound of the power tools working.

“You lack vision, dear Percey, I think we could absolutely handle it!!” Brainstorm called back.

Rodimus paused, waiting for something from Nautica before approaching the door. He started as the door swung open on its own, the aforementioned femme jolting at the sight of him. “Oh! Hello captain.” She greeted, offering a cheery little smile.

“Nautica.” Rodimus smiled back politely. His finials twitched a bit as he felt her field tense back against her just a bit too late to hide the knowingness in it. He attempted to retain a cool demeanor. “Where are you off to?”

“Just on my way out!” she chirped, averting optic contact. “Going to Swerve’s, maybe I’ll see you there later, bye!” The bot scooted around him, ducking under his spoiler and trotting off down the hallway.

“Rodimus?” Perceptor called from within.

Slag. He could already hear the sound of work halting as his presence became fully known. The speedster stepped into the lab, the door closing behind him with a pneumatic hiss. “Yes, hi, sorry for dropping by unexpectedly.”

“...Again?” Perceptor added, biting back a smirk. He was sitting at one of his work stations, in the process of putting something together that Rodimus had no hope of understanding. Brainstorm was similarly engaged, though as Rodimus had entered he’d taken the time to spin lazily around in his seat, resting his cheek knowingly in his palm with a suggestive look in his eyes.

“... Yes. Again.” Rodimus muttered.

“And how could us two geniuses be of help, Rodimus?” Brainstorm prompted, amusement clear in his tone. A flare of heat churned in Rodimus’ tanks, his optics flicking back and forth between the other two mech’s faceplates. “... What’s with these looks, what’s going on here?” Rodimus snapped out, crossing his arms.

Brainstorm snorted involuntarily, quickly resetting his vocalizer. “WELL, Perceptor was just recently telling us about a very interesting project he worked on-”

“YOU TOLD??” Rodimus blurted out incredulously, mortification washing over his frame. It wasn’t as if he was mad at Perceptor for kissing and telling, in fact he hoped most of his partners were inclined to do so. It was more… the whole vulnerability of the matter, that someone else knew he’d been desperate enough to ask for help.

Perceptor shrugged a bit. “I talk about my projects with Brainstorm most of the time we work in the lab.” Projects. Rodimus fought off a shiver. That was what he was in his eyes, then, a project… that should have been insulting, probably.

“Good for morale.” Brainstorm agreed, beaming at his lab partner. He then turned back to Rodimus, all affection in his expression melting out in favour of a mocking smile. “You’d know all about morale, wouldn’t you, captain?”

If he weren’t already in enough trouble with cybertronian resources, Rodimus might have throttled him. “Yep.” He gritted out instead. “Look- I just need a new copy of the… project you gave me.”

Perceptor cocked his head in confusion. “A new copy? Is there something wrong with the last one I gave you, Rodimus?”

Rodimus shriveled. It was embarrassing enough to come crawling back, it was embarrassing enough to ask for a new one, but now with someone else- someone else not sworn to secrecy(with some apparent caveats)- in the lab? This was torture.

He sheepishly reached into his subspace, pawing around for a moment as he approached Perceptor’s desk. He daintily set the crushed dataslug on the table there, offlining his optics in preparation for the reaction.

Rodimus was right to do so, clearly, as Brainstorm burst into laughter. Perceptor cleared his vocalizer, clearly covering up a snicker of his own as he prodded at the shattered circuitry with a stylus. “... You broke it already?”

Rodimus looked away, fidgeting uncomfortably under the two scientists' gazes. “... I actually broke it the same night you gave it to me-”

“THE SAME NIGHT??!” Brainstorm gawked, now peering over Rodimus’ shoulder. “Oh you poor thing.” He crooned mockingly, patting him on his back plating gently.

Perceptor reached into a drawer of his desk, absently picking out a new dataslug and placing it on the table. “Alright, you have a seat Rodimus, I’ll get you a new one.”

Rodimus blinked. “Oh- You don’t need me back on the-” He gestured at the table he’d been on during his last visit.

Perceptor finally glanced up from his work, raising a brow ridge at him. “... No? I have all my work backed up here.” He said, wiggling a datapad in his hand.

“Oh. Okay.” Rodimus blushed a bit, feeling stupid for assuming. It wasn’t as if he’d wanted to spend another half hour getting toyed with and experimented on like some sort of science project… He’d just come to get a new copy of his magic overload stick, that was all.

This was a good thing.

Rodimus wasn’t disappointed even a bit.

Brainstorm brushed past him, now leaning over Perceptor’s shoulder to read the datapad. He mouthed the glyphs on the screen, brows knitting together as he squinted at the lines of code.

“Feh.” Brainstorm sniffed finally, rolling his optics.

Perceptor paused, turning to face the other with a pointed look. “What?”

“... I don’t know, I just feel like you played it a bit safe, Percey.” Brainstorm said. He had that tone to his voice that he only seemed to get when he was trying to play it cool while also silently begging you to ask him what he meant by that.

“What do you mean by that?” Perceptor scoffed.

“I don’t know, I just…” He leaned back, arranging his frame into a haughtier, annoyingly smug pose. He examined his digits nonchalantly. “... Expected it to be a little bit more interesting.”

Rodimus swallowed, optics bouncing between the two of them. “Interesting…?” He mumbled out.

“Well, the client in question didn’t ASK for interesting, he asked for some help, and I gave it to him, and he was happy with it!” Perceptor huffed, spinning in his chair to further face Brainstorm.

“And I’m sure he was! I’m only saying that there are a lot more interesting ways one could have solved the problem, and your methods of efficiency are always very admirable, Percey.” Brainstorm put his servos up placatively, his tone infuriatingly condescending.

Perceptor scoffed again, standing up from his seat. “Well, if you’re so certain you could have done a better job, why don’t you prove it, Brainstorm?” He sneered, jabbing an accusatory digit into Brainstorm’s chest. How Perceptor managed to remain oblivious to the giddiness in Brainstorm’s field was a mystery to Rodimus, it was nearly bowling him over.

“I’d be happy to!” Brainstorm grinned, swinging his helm around to face Rodimus. “What do you say, Captain?”

Rodimus thought for a long few klikks. Brainstorm was just as smart as Perceptor, he could likely play Rodimus’s processor like an instrument just like him too, but his disposition was generally more… unpredictable… in a way that might not have been conducive to his goals.

“... Fine, but I don’t want to hear about anyone else hearing about this, okay?” Rodimus conceded. It was only when he saw the look in Brainstorm’s optics go from excited to elated that Rodimus considered he might have made the wrong choice.

Rodimus was beginning to feel like a bit of a third wheel. Which was odd, because it was him who was currently laying on an examination slab, tilted just a bit upright, while the two scientists bickered over him. He could see his own diagnostics and files brought up on a myriad of screens and datapads that Brainstorm had hooked up around him. Rodimus wriggled uncomfortably on the slab, itching a bit at Brainstorm’s plug in his diagnostic port. He felt less like a mech and more like a missile the scientist was working on. The thought made Rodimus’ plating feel hot and uncomfortable.

“Well see, there’s the problem-” Brainstorm tsked, snapping Rodimus from his thoughts as his servo came down to grip the crest of his helm and tip it to show Perceptor the interfacing port on it’s back. “Who puts an interfacing port at the back of someone’s head?”

“H-hey!” Rodimus started, giving Brainstorm a pointed glare.

“Ahh… I see, that definitely could pose an issue then.” Perceptor nodded a bit.

“Not if you use a topical patch instead of a plug.” Brainstorm waved his servo dismissively, releasing Rodimus’s helm to return to his work.

“But then that makes it harder to take off if you want to stop.” Perceptor said, as if it were an obvious problem.

Brainstorm just laughed, “I have many doubts that Rodimus would worry about stopping.”

“I can- I’m still here you know!” Rodimus snapped.

“Well then you can answer our query then, would you feel more comfortable with a datastick or a topical patch?” Perceptor asked, holding up either one in his servos. Rodimus turned his helm to consider them.

“Uhh-” He began, cut off quickly when he felt the shiver of a command being typed into his processor.

[Action input- Test- Tactile sensors]

Rodimus felt a shudder ripple over his body, each of his sensory inputs warming up briefly before turning off, showing each one was in proper working order. The mech rolled his digits into fists, letting out a shaky vent. “E-either one is fine- I don’t- I don’t care.” He offered helpfully.

Perceptor frowned and sighed. “Fine then.” He broke his attention off from Rodimus when he heard another chuckle from Brainstorm, his frown sharpening.

“Ahh, Perceptor… Really, this code is just adorable, it’s like you didn’t even think of all the ways one can manipulate a sexual code.” Brainstorm mused, mostly to himself.

[Action input- Stimulus reaction- Anterior node- 50%]

Going from zero sensory input to fifty directly on his node was not what Rodimus would describe as ‘cool’ or ‘fun’. A sudden shout punched itself from Rodimus’ chest, his hips jumping off the table as if his valve were attempting to escape the pressure. His pedes came down with a clang, his body arched up in a quivering bridge. “A-AH- FRAG- Brainstorm-!” Rodimus gritted out, waiting for the stimulation to go as he squirmed.

“See, you probably noticed a big amount of his pleasure based coding centers around his valve, right, but-” Brainstorm started to explain, gesturing with his stylus at one of the screens for Perceptor’s benefit. Rodimus blearily noted the diagram was some quick three dimensional mockup of his array. “You know even if a majority of the frame’s favoured stimulant nodes are in one place, it doesn’t mean you-”

“BRAINSTORM!!” Rodimus wailed out, still writhing. The pleasure was burning, his body alight with charge demanding a place to go.

[Cease action input]

Brainstorm sighed and rolled his optics as Rodimus went limp on the table. The whole situation would be sexy if Rodimus were more into the blatant negligence the two of them were clearly treating him to. He tried to focus on steadying his fans as they kicked on.

“As I was saying, I think there are more interesting nodes you could stimulate, in addition to those in the array, to give a more interesting experience.” Brainstorm finished. “At least for a project as boring as ‘data stick that makes you overload’ anyway.”

“B-boring? Primus, Brainstorm, I should’ve considered how scientifically stimulating my own problems were for you before coming here, that’s on me.” Rodimus huffed out indignantly, pinning the jet with a glare.

“Oh, your problems are incredibly scientifically stimulating Rodimus, I can think of a dozen ways to solve your whole panels plight off the top of my head, but Perceptor chose the most boring solution-” Brainstorm rambled exasperatedly, going through a few more codes before hitting the enter button on his datapad.

[Action input- test- oral tactile sensitivity]

[Action input- test- audial sensitivity]

[Action input- test- tactile sensitivity- thigh and hip plating]

Rodimus squirmed. His optics flickered a bit as his processor fought to follow all commands at once. A fuzzy, tingly wash came over his glossa and dentas, then the same over his thigh and hip plating, as if someone were stroking over each bit of plating very lightly. Finally, his audials became suddenly more sensitive, taking in each minute whirr and buzz of the room around him. The sensations came to a slow, easing stop after only a few seconds, leaving Rodimus with an odd feeling in his tanks.

“Boring?” Rodimus finally breathed out, glancing at Brainstorm.

Brainstorm didn’t make optic contact with him, he was too busy inputting commands. “Yes, boring.”

“Would you mind enlightening us then, Brainstorm, on what the dozen other ideas you had are?” Perceptor prompted, folding his arms and leaning back in his seat.

[Action input- Sensory stimulus reaction- valve calipers(1-10) 15%]

[Action input- Sensory stimulus reaction- valve nodes(1-6, 10-18) 10%]

Rodimus moaned lowly, offlining his optics and gritting his dentas. That felt more familiar, his valve squeezing around a phantom sensation, more akin to digits than a full sized spike.

“Well if we wanted to go closer to brute force, there’s technically nothing in the statement ‘crew members are not allowed to remove the magnetizer until the period of punishment is over’ doesn’t extend to one… applying a local anesthetic and removing the lower modesty panels entirely.” Brainstorm started.

“N-no- thats- I don’t want that thanks-” Rodimus’s tanks squeezed uncomfortably. His legs instinctively came together around his panels, earning him a tap from Brainstorm’s stylus.

“Keep those open please, I need to keep an eye on your panels. In fact you could do with squirming a lot less- Ah, don’t worry.” Brainstorm was speaking a thousand miles a minute, leaving Rodimus’s already foggy head spinning.

[Action input- disengage automotive directives from user: Rodimus- neck down]

Rodimus’s entire body went slack with a thud as his legs hit the slab. He let out a choked off cry, willing his frame to move and finding himself limp as a ragdoll.

“W-wait!” Rodimus squeaked out.

“Don’t panic, your body is in good servos, Roddy.” Brainstorm cooed, patting his leg briefly before going back to his work. “Now, I know you’re still keeping up those one on ones, right, Captain?”

“Y-yeah- Hey, listen, I know I move a lot but this is-” Rodimus began to protest, trying his hardest to ignore the ongoing sensation in his valve.

“Relax. I’ve got a way to make those more fun for you if you’re going to be using your intake…~” Brainstorm sing songed, his optics scrunching in an impish little smile. “Here, hold on, I’ll give you your body back in a second, just-” He began, rolling his seat away out of Rodimus’s view and returning with a few yellow painted metal loops. He handed two of them to Perceptor, who seemed to understand the idea just fine as the two of them arranged Rodimus’s limp form into a wide, spread out X shape.

Rodimus dimly felt the familiar sensation of four magnetizer cuffs activating and latching to the metal of the table. “W-why the frag do you even have those in your lab-?” Rodimus asked.

“Don’t ask.” Brainstorm answered, “They’ll just keep you in place for me while I work alright? Do I have your consent to mess with your mouth?” He made a show of asking, clearly more for Perceptor’s benefit than Rodimus’

[Action input- previous input disengaged]

Rodimus was quiet for a moment, the ongoing feelings in his array making him feel like he was about to start leaking. He gave his restraints a testing wiggle, finding himself stuck, but still able to squirm, to a more controlled degree. He cleared his vocalizer, his intake feeling dry as he spoke. “... Yeah okay.”

Brainstorm’s optics flashed just long enough for Rodimus to feel regret before the data inputs came through.

[Action input- cease all inputs- area:Valve]

[Action input- reduce gag reflex- 100%]

[Action input- increase tactile sensitivity- Glossa-60%]

[Action input- increase tactile sensitivity- Dermas-60%]

[Action input- increase tactile sensitivity- Intake- 40%]

[Action input- increase oral lubricant production- 50%]

[Action input- sensory link- tactile oral sensation = pleasure center activation]

Rodimus was overwhelmed for a moment, letting out a glitchy, confused grunt as his intake tingled with sudden sensation. He ran his glossa over his dentas experimentally, turning more pink at the shudder of pleasure that ran down his spinal strut at the feeling. “Oh- Brainst- ah-” Rodimus wheezed. Even just moving his mouth to speak felt oddly good, every brush of his tongue over the expanse of his palate suddenly feeling charged with arousal.

“A brief look at your more recent updated data in your pleasure centers shows general intake sensitivity has already had some spikes on its own, I’ve just..” Brainstorm trailed off, reaching out to playfully tap Rodimus’ lip with his stylus. The feeling sent tingles down Rodimus’ frame directly to his panels. “Heightened the effect. You can call me a genius now.”

Rodimus groaned weakly, too busy squirming in his bindings to pay the scientist much mind. The feeling was weird, good, but weird. He appreciated the thought but it wasn’t like he wanted to go around getting a reputation for finishing just from oral. He had some semblance of dignity to uphold.

A semblance of dignity he was apparently giving up for the time being as he greedily ran his glossa against the roof of his intake, sending sparks skittering across his plating. Rodimus keened, optics flickering and going dim with want.

“Really, this is just gratuitous.” Perceptor scoffed, his faceplate bright pink from Rodimus’ lascivious display. He turned his vision away from him to Brainstorm. “When do you have the time to think of this kind of… thing?”

“Unimportant,” Brainstorm dismissed, standing up and setting his datapad aside. “I have more tests I’d like to run! Rodimus, be a dear and open wide for me?” The scientist patted Rodimus’ cheek, holding his stylus up and wiggling it between two fingers.

The captain complied, letting his jaw drop open and his tongue hang out.

“Very good, Rodimus.” Brainstorm cooed, running the edge of his stylus slowly down the flat of the other mech’s glossa. Rodimus’s valve cycled and squeezed around nothing, his spike twitching and stirring in its housing.

“Nnghhuhuuuhh…” Rodimus answered intelligently. He dimly heard Perceptor clear his vocalizer, but chose not to care, instead opting to curl his glossa around the edge of the stylus and stroke against it.

Brainstorm chuckled, freeing his stylus and running it along Rodimus’s top derma. “It’s very easy to remap pleasure centers to elsewhere in someone’s frame, I could do this to anywhere you liked, but I figured this would be the most advantageous, yes?”

“Y-yeahh…” Rodimus mumbled breathlessly, trying to keep himself as under control as possible. He shook his helm to try and clear the fogginess in it, only to let out a wanton moan when Brainstorm’s free servo came down on his helm crest to hold him still.

“Try not to thrash so much, or I’ll have to take your bodily control away again, and we don’t want that, do we?” Brainstorm hissed, before letting go of his stylus in favour of gripping Rodimus’ tongue between his middle and index digit. Rodimus’ squirmed, trying to hold his helm still as his back arched up off the table. He felt like his whole frame was on fire in the strangest way. He fought to keep from making a further fool of himself, but it was a losing battle. Brainstorm released his glossa, instead shifting his servo to pet his digits over the surface of it.

Rodimus moaned dumbly and began to suck at them on reflex, letting his optics fully go offline as Brainstorm worked his digits gently in his mouth.

Brainstorm leaned down, chuckling as he murmured hotly in Rodimus’ audial. “And I could go further than this, too, I could increase some more of your priorities, make every bit of these ‘apologies’ make you-”

“Alright, I think that’s- that’s quite enough, Brainstorm.” Perceptor interjected. Brainstorm drew his digits from the captain’s mouth with a wet pop, standing back up straight. Rodimus definitely didn’t crane his neck after his servo, and absolutely did not let out an embarrassing noise at having his mouth empty.

“Oh not at all!! We haven’t even tested his throat’s responses!” Brainstorm feigned ignorance at the lewdness of it all, putting his still wet servo on his hip as he gestured across Rodimus’ coolant slick frame. “I’m going to put my spike in his mouth and see-”

Perceptor sputtered for a moment. “This is hardly scientific-”

“Well sure, but it’s more fun if you pretend it is, isn’t it?” Brainstorm chirped, stepping around the side of the table to stand by Rodimus’ head. He hit a button on a nearby console and the slab tilted back until Rodimus’ helm was level with Brainstorm’s modesty panel, at which point Brainstorm carefully rearranged the other bot so that his head was hanging languidly over the edge of the table. “How are you doing down there, Roddy?”

“F-feels weird… good…” Rodimus panted. Had he been more eloquent at the time he might have said something like ‘it feels like my panels are going to fall off’ or ‘please put something in me’, but Rodimus’ foggy mind somehow spared him that added embarrassment. He simply stared at Brainstorm’s panels hopefully, letting out a relieved whine as he saw them transform away.

“Yeah… thats good, I’m glad. Percey, if you wouldn’t mind monitoring the datascreens while I test?” Brainstorm asked, absently petting over Rodimus’ jaw and neck as he coaxed his spike from it’s housing.

“Er- Of course, thats just fine.” Perceptor agreed, turning to watch the readouts with his faceplate almost entirely pink.

Rodimus craned his neck out to Brainstorm’s slowly extending spike, hungry for it in a way he’d never felt before. The first brush of the tip against his dermas sent shivers down his back strut, his engines revving involuntarily as he rolled his tongue against the slit. All this teasing and excess charge couldn’t be good for him, but by this point, Rodimus hardly cared.

He let out a grateful moan as Brainstorm slid his spike carefully into Rodimus’ intake. The captain was vaguely aware at this point that he was salivating more than usual as a ribbon of oral solvent slid headily down his cheeks. Rodimus was startled at the ease with which Brainstorm managed to press his spike into his throat, but any untoward feelings about the matter melted away, replaced with arousal and desperation as his body blazed with charge. He sucked greedily at the intrusion in his mouth, laving his tongue over the topside of Brainstorm’s spike.

“Aaahh, that’s just wonderful-” Brainstorm sighed out, leaning over Rodimus’ body to stroke his servos over the speedster’s overcharged chassis. “I’m so good it scares me sometimes.”

Perceptor chuckled dryly. “All vitals look to be reacting normally. Though, the lack of gag reflex could pose some worries couldn’t it?”

“Oh, you’re too cautious.” Brainstorm dismissed him, beginning to pump his hips into Rodimus’ throat. He disregarded the muffled groans Rodimus was making in favour of teasing his digits along the sensitive edges of the other mech’s spoiler.

“Hardly! I just think things through longer than you do.” Perceptor chuckled again, but there was a note of breathlessness to his voice.

Again, that was probably lost on Rodimus, who was too busy straining his wrists against his restraints in an attempt to grab Brainstorm and press his spike even further into his mouth. He needed it, needed it in a way the other mech couldn’t hope to understand. He swallowed his own drool uselessly, mewling at the feeling of his throat tightening and rippling against the scientist’s spike. He thought he might die if he didn’t keep using him. Every intrusion was getting to him, the feeling of his digits groping at his prone form, the weight of the spike in his mouth, the burning connection of the plug in his diagnostic port. He was helpless. The feeling was so alien, so wrong, so frightening, and yet all Rodimus could do was moan for more.

“Mm-muh-!” He moaned out, gurgling in mindless ecstasy as Brainstorm redoubled his efforts of pounding into his mouth.

“You seem a little bothered, Percey~...” Brainstorm cooed to his partner mockingly. “Is something wrong?”

Perceptor reset his vocalizer with a meaningful click. “No- Nothing, its uhm… only a very… unprofessional display…”

“Well… I’m sure he wouldn’t mind helping you out as well, if all this… unprofessionalism is making it hard for you to focus…!” Brainstorm’s words were heavy with implication and lust, each snap of his hips rocking Rodimus’ frame. The meaning behind his retort finally dawned on Rodimus’ groggy mind, and the bound mech writhed and squirmed, drool bubbling from his lips as he whimpered in need. “See?” Brainstorm chuckled darkly, thumbing lightly at the bulge his spike left in Rodimus’ throat.

It was hard for Rodimus to focus on much other than the weight in his mouth, so he continued to worship, rolling his glossa over each node and biolight and ridge, drinking in each involuntary twitch and gasp Brainstorm let out. He hardly noticed when the magnets on his ankles came away, barely gave any mind as the table below his lower half bowed out, only really giving the movement any mind when he felt Perceptors delicate servos grasping his thighs. His digits seared against Rodimus’ leaking, overcharged panels, making the captain buck and squirm and squeal around Brainstorm’s spike.

“R-Rodimus, is this alright with you?” Perceptor asked, voice heavy with need. Rodimus nearly cried out when Brainstorm pulled his hips back to allow him to respond.

He coughed and swallowed, his mouth drowned in oral solvent and prefluid. “G-hhahh- Go f-for it, please- f-frag- anything-” Rodimus babbled, leaning out to try and get the spike back into his mouth. He whined low in his vocalizer as Brainstorm slipped his spike back home, soothingly petting over Rodimus’ chassis and neck. Rodimus went slack under the two mechs’ ministrations, luxuriating in the rolling sensation crashing over his frame. He felt Perceptor’s spike pressurize between his slick thighs, drinking in the gasp he let out as it slid against the charged heat of his modesty panel.

Rodimus could hardly tell the magnetizer was there anymore, the ache of his array was negligible when compared to the heat of the spikes in and against him and the servos gripping at his dewy plating. His mind went blank, arcs of charge rippling over his body with each thrust, both of the other mecha grounding their own lust through him. Rodimus was lost in it, swallowing intakefuls of solvent and fluid, face growing sticky and messy as his mouth hummed with perverse delight.

He could feel every bit of his plating vibrating, every inch of metal and protoform alight with need. Pleasure gathered heavy in his tanks, drawing him closer and closer to the edge. He couldn’t get enough, squirming between the two scientists, puffs of hot air filling the room with steam. He swallowed around Brainstorm’s spike and felt his valve clench under his panels. Perceptor’s spike between his thighs sped up with a punched out moan from the microscope, his digits digging into Rodimus’ plating and threatening to leave scratches there.

Rodimus felt Brainstorm’s rhythm begin to stutter, his servos coming down to grip the table as he chased after his overload desperately. “O-Oh- Perceptor-” Brainstorm huffed out, steam billowing from the slits in his mask.

Rodimus might have been offended. He should have been offended. The blatant way with which the scientist ignored him, even as he spent his overload down Rodimus’ throat should have made the captain bitter. But instead that heat just gripped him deeper, his engines roaring with lust as Rodimus himself tumbled over into his own climax. His body was strung out taught, writhing and groaning in ecstasy. Transfluid spilled from his dermas and over his face, spurting in equal measure around the seams of his modesty panels and magnetizer. He dimly heard Perceptor gasp and moan at the display, and keened as he felt jets of fluid paint lewdly up his abdomen and across his chassis.

Rodimus laid bare, steaming, panting as Brainstorm slowly dragged his spike out of his intake. Rodimus’ head swirled. He barely recognized the feeling of Brainstorm unplugging his diagnostic cable, hardly noted the stickiness coating the better part of his faceplate and crotch. He allowed himself to bask, savouring the afterglow of his much needed overload as it hung cloyingly to his frame.

Rodimus couldn’t help but feel like he was being rushed out. By the time he was being ushered to the door, he was still a bit out of sorts, a topical patch containing the affectionately named ‘intake interface initiative’ code in his servo.

“Let me know if there are any bugs even though I know there won’t be! And happy trails, take care, buh-bye!” Brainstorm said hurriedly, offering a slightly breathless grin as he shoved Rodimus through the door of the laboratory.

“Uh- Yeah, thanks for-” Rodimus was only able to get the sentence halfway out before the door slid closed behind him. He let out a long, tired sigh, massaging his vocalizer lightly. It was a little bit raw, for good reason. “... Cool.” He muttered, beginning his trek back to his office.

Rodimus eyed the topical patch in its casing, flipping it between his fingers casually. He wouldn’t admit this to Brainstorm or Perceptor(or probably anyone else), but the thing kind of scared him. He was certain there had to be some other bug in there that made his processor work wrong, otherwise he wouldn’t have… well he wouldn’t have gotten so into whatever that was.

He reminded himself frequently what these meetings were: a means to an end. He was getting to know his crew better, he was making a connection, he was showing them he was dependable and generous. What was more generous than sucking spike? Not much, from Rodimus’ point of view.

It was weird to let himself get so lost in the whole matter, like that code had made him do. Yeah, made him. That was it. It wasn’t so bad to let himself enjoy the attention now and then, especially when he’d actually been able to use his array during, but if he got that carried away… just from sucking someone off? That was a bit embarrassing.

Some part of him considered the situation- prone, experimented upon, disregarded but praised, teased… used. It couldn’t have been any of those feelings that had made him act that way.

It was the code!

It must have been.

Rodimus shook his helm, tucking the patch into his subspace delicately. Some parts of his plating still felt sticky, his jaw ached, his vocalizer was raw, there were black paint transfers around his thighs and hips from Perceptor’s groping. He looked like a cheap shareware whore.

…

Rodimus closed out the prompt in his processor to open his panels for what felt like the thousandth time. He let the door to his office close behind him and sat uncomfortably at his desk.

He eyed the fresh stack of datapads and the order his workspace had been brought to and frowned. Ultra Magnus had been there while he was away. Again.

Rodimus took a long, deep vent in.

Just 5 more cycles until his midway meeting with Ultra Magnus. He’d lie his aft off about how much he’d changed, he’d get that magnetizer off, and then things would go back to normal. He’d get through the list once and for all, and everyone would finally recognize how much he did for his crew.

Rodimus briefly considered what it would look like having to endure another 16 cycles if he was unable to convince him.

He swallowed thickly and did the unthinkable to keep his mind off that grim idea.

Rodimus started working on his datapads.

#valveplug #transformers #mtmte #transformers mtmte #/nsfw #my fic #my art #rodimus #brainstorm #perceptor #brainrodceptor #?? is that the ship name? idk #maccadam

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moonswolfie · 7 months

Text

Capricious feelings

Atsumu x gn!reader

(this could be read as pre or post timeskip tsumu so have fun with it 💙)

I am back on my "haikyuu fics based off vocaloid songs" grind after the first one was moderately successful, so I bring you:

Kimagure Mercy and Atsumu except the ending is good because i am smitten for atsumu and cannot write him as an asshole even though he absolutely would be one😭

Warnings: a few swear words, sort of angst to sort of fluff

He's calling you again. You only roll your eyes, waiting for your phone to stop ringing and turning away to focus on whatever else you're doing.

You know why he's calling, anyways. It's cuz he wants your help, or wants to borrow some money, or has some other favour that he wants from you.

You see, Atsumu's your boyfriend on paper, but in practice, things couldn't be more different. The "relationship", if you can even still call it that, is on the verge of collapsing. He only ever calls you when he needs favours, constantly making excuses for his distant behaviour.

The phone stops ringing, and you take a breath of relief, only for it to start ringing again a few seconds. God, he must really want a favour if he bothered calling twice in a row. You sigh, picking up the phone.

"Hi, how are ya?" He's using a sweet, gentle tone to butter you up as always. You regretfully know all of his little tricks by now.

"I'm fine. Why are you calling?" You're aware that you sound a little cold and harsh, but what's the point in useless small talk when you already know that isn't why he's calling?

"Come over, will ya?"

Those words froze you for a second. Whenever he asked you to come over, it would always end with him sucking your face off and then ignoring you until you leave. It always leaves you feeling sick and empty, knowing those kisses mean nothing to him.

Yet someway, somehow, you find yourself feeling giddy whenever he takes your hand or wraps his arms around your waist. And you hate that you do.

You absolutely hate the thought of falling in love with him. Not with that selfish, self-obsessed asshole who only uses you for favours and doesn't give a damn about you. But your heart insists on betraying your mind, your reason.

"Are ya there? You've been real quiet..." his voice snaps you out of your train of thought. "Yeah, I'm coming."

You don't know why you still bend to his will every time, you could easily say no, break up with him and never talk to him again. Maybe you actually do know why... and you don't like the reason.

"Lovely, I'll be waitin'. Bye now." he hung up the phone. As always, he has you wrapped around his finger, otherwise you wouldn't be making your way to his house right now. You live relatively close to him, so the walk isn't long. You briefly think about turning around and going back home. But once again, your stupid heart wins.

You ring the doorbell, and a sudden wave of regret flushes over you. Should you really be falling into his arms again? Should you have ignored your mind, telling you to turn back?

Before you even have a chance to run away, the door opens. "Heya, sweets. Come on in." That smile is a deceptive mask, and you know it. You silently walk in, sitting down on the couch, your usual make-out spot. You just have to get it over with and hope your stomach doesn't churn from guilt later.

He sits down beside you, and you close your eyes in anticipation to be roughly grabbed by him. But it doesn't come.

"Are you good? Ya look a lil' pale." the concern in his voice was completely unexpected.

"Since when do you care how I'm doing?" You have no idea what came over you in that moment. Normally you would brush it off, lie to him, or assure him you're fine. But he'd never asked you that with such concern before, and you don't know what to do with yourself anymore.

"I'm yer boyfriend, of course I-"

"Oh, shut up! You only care when you want a favour from me!" You stood up, clenching your hands into fists. "You don't actually give a damn about me, do you?! You don't love me, you only love yourself!!" All your repressed feelings suddenly came spilling out.

He looked awfully surprised by your behaviour, probably because you finally didn't bend to his will once. Because you finally said what's on your mind. It felt good, but at the same time, your heart felt a pang of pain once the words you said finally registered in your brain.

"I... this is what I called ya over for, actually...." he looked to the ground, wearing a solemn expression. His mask of confidence was breaking.

"...What?"

"I know that I'm a horrible boyfriend, but I'm goin' ta fix that." He looked back up at you, determination shining in his eyes.

This was a conversation you never ever expected to have. Is this a cruel prank? Would Atsumu do that to you?

"I don't... understand. Why now?" You weren't sure what to think right now. You're honestly thinking too many things, feeling too many emotions at once right now.

"Because, I ended up realisin' that ya deserve better than this. Honestly, yer too good fer me." Knowing Atsumu, it must've taken a lot for him to throw away his pride and ego just to admit this.

At your silence, he continued. "My point is, I wanna be better for ya, give this whole love thing a shot, ya know? But if ya really feel that way, you can break up with me, I won't mind..."

"Atsumu, you ass." He flinched slightly at your response, searching your face for your emotions. "You can't do this to me." Right when you finally felt strong enough to call him out, he decides to pull you right back in and make you feel all horrible.

You sigh. "You're a lucky man, Atsumu. But these better not be empty promises." Your hopeless heart wins you over once again. Yet this time, you feel assured. Assured that Atsumu will do the right thing.

Atsumu finally felt like he could breathe again, placing a hand on his chest. "Would I ever break a promise I made?" He asked with a relieved smile.

"Honestly.... you seem like you would." You rolled your eyes playfully.

"Hey, I didn't promise to better myself just so you can insult me!"

#˗ˏˋ ★ ☁︎ 「Wolfie’s works」 ☾ ★ ˎˊ˗#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #atsumu miya #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu #hq atsumu #msby atsumu #x gender neutral reader #gn reader

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hood-ex · 2 months

Text

Brain is malfunctioning bc I'm looking at a 23k fic, and the author said they wrote it in 4 hours... 4 hours?? What do you mean?? Your mind has really gotta be in the roughest draft of rough draft modes to be able to churn that out within that time.

How many words per hour can y'all get out? I mean, if I'm booking it and don't have to consider what I'm writing, I could probably get 2k in an hour, but that's generally not the case. I hem and haw over the details so much that it could easily take me 4 hours just to get 2500 words or so. Maybe even less words if I'm really struggling.

#if i could spit out 23k in 4 hours consistently i'd be writing novels all the damn time like whaaaat #it took me 3 months to write 22k for one fic 😭 and i feel like i was working on it pretty consistently at the time #i'm just like... 4 hours?? huuuh??#did you do hella pre-planning for that or is your brain just that magical??

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 11 months

Note

Malleus's enchantment on Lilia's gag glasses definitely wouldn't work on his own grandmother, would it? XD

Maleficia "There you are, Lilia. I was only just conversing with your human child on your whereabouts. It has been long since I have last seen you, my most trusted— What... are you wearing?"

[Referencing this fic!]

If Malleus could easily wave off Vil’s magic, then Maleficia can do the same for Malleus’s magic 😂

There's a part in this interaction where Maleficia switches from using "I" to "we"--that's the English royal "we" (pluralis majestatis). Historically, it's been used to invoke the divine right of rulers to speak for their state. I wanted to use it for a brief line to emphasize her serious tone.

***Note: foreshadowing for book 7 (so there are spoilers!!)***

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

"So good to see you, your majesty." Lilia bowed to the woman in regal black robes. His tone was lighthearted, even as he addressed the queen of his country. "You've spoken with Silver? I do hope he was on his best behavior."

"As always." Maleficia allowed herself a smile. To most, it would make their skin crawl with discomfort. To Lilia, it was the grace of a close companion. "It has been long since I have last seen you, my most trusted—"

She slightly startled when he lifted his head. Her mouth twitching, pupils dilating, as the rest of her face remained unchanged. "What... are you wearing?"

"Oh? You're curious about these?" Lilia fiddled with his frames. He was careful to not entirely remove them from his face, lest he cast off his magical disguise. The faux hairs that made up a pair of bushy eyebrows and a mustache tickled his skin, the big rubber nose flopping about.

"Surely it's not a human fashion statement," Maleficia said with the lift of an arched brow, "though you have always been one to experiment with your appearance. Why, I still remember how you wore your hair back in the day. Long, with stripes as red as blood."

"That was quite a while ago." It was the look most iconic to his oldest friends—and his oldest enemies. Memories that tasted of both sugar and salt churned in his mind. "No, this isn't a new fashion trend, just a little something Malleus whipped up for me so that I could attend Family Day with everyone."

"Malleus did? I knew the magic felt familiar," Maleficia chuckled. Tendrils of the enchantment bounced harmlessly off her, illusive wisps flickering between her fingers. "My grandson still has much to learn in the way of spellcasting before he can pull one over my eyes. He chose such a humorous item to enchant as well."

"The choice was mine. We share the blame for the spell's design. Ah, but isn't it odd? Despite these odd circumstances, we still find ourselves making many happy memories."

"How kind of Malleus to grant you a blessing that brings such good fortune. You won't have to sit out on the festivities this year."

"He has a big heart, that boy. He didn't wish for me to be by my lonesome—and I'm eternally grateful for it. Thanks to Malleus, I can be with Silver on this momentous occasion.

"Someday soon, the day will come where I can no longer be by his side." Lilia clasped both hands over his heart. The joy in his voice was undeniably touched with sorrow. "This time we have together now, as father and son... it's something I'll always treasure."

Maleficia frowned. "Lilia, you don't mean to say..."

"You know what I speak of, yes? The time that comes for us all eventually."

She solemnly nodded. "I did not think it would be so soon. Before long, the sun will set on our time, and it will rise again at the dawn of a new era, one led by the next generation. Our legacies, paving the future of Briar Valley.

“Malleus will succeed me. Your child will age, perhaps have children of his own. Baul's grandchildren too."

Lilia laughed--soft and bittersweet. "They grow up so fast, don't they?"

"Extremely."

"Fufu, you must be so excited to see how Malleus has grown then."

"I am, however..." Maleficia's brows suddenly furrowed. "I must confess, I did not visit today only to see my grandson. I also wished to personally inquire about your health while I had the opportunity.”

The question threw Lilia off his tempo. He flinched, then hurried to find his footing again. His cheer, a mask.

"Come now, I know I may be getting up there in age, but I'm not quite senile yet—nor am I chomping at the bit for retirement. I'm as spry as I ever was." He hopped a few steps ahead, back to her. “You see? I’m…”

"Lilia," Maleficia said patiently, her words warning. "You are deliberately avoiding my question. As our vassal, we command you to answer us. How does your magic fare?”

To this, Lilia hesitated, biting his lower lip. "I don’t want to lie to you, but… I also don’t want to tell the whole truth. It is not within a warrior’s spirit to show their weaknesses, not even to friends and family.”

“You needn’t pretend with me.”

“I know. I know, and that is exactly why I can’t bring myself to face you. Not in the state I’m in.” The wind extended a cool hand to caress Lilia’s cheek. He looked into the horizon, at the outline of Night Raven’s main building reaching up high to pierce the clouds. “The last thing I wish for in this world is to be the cause of sadness for my loved ones.”

“Do they know?”

Lilia shook his head. “Not yet. I plan to when we third years meet to discuss internships. The longer I stay, the harder it will be to let go. I must cut the cord then and there. Until then…”

He turned to the side, his profile outlined by the rays of the sun. Hope seeping through the darkness that had eclipsed his face. “I’ll enjoy the life I have left here to its fullest. I ask that you recognize this as my final wish, your ma… no, Maleficia.”

“Lilia…”

“Please.”

"... By the Seven,” the queen sighed, “I shall never become accustomed to those silly spectacles on you. To wear such a dress while making a request to a higher authority… that is something only you would dare to do, Lilia.”

She folded her arms, her long sleeves falling into place with the motion. “You have loyally served your country as both a skilled general and as a wise advisor. You are a dear friend, an irreplaceable individual, yet it is also you who would be so audacious as to deny me the truth I seek.

“… So be it. By the powers vested in me as Queen of Briar Valley, it shall be done.” Maleficia lifted a hand, as if imbibing her decree with power. “You secret will be safe with me.”

He hurriedly glanced away, blinking back tears. Happiness? Sadness? He didn’t know from where they came.

“Thank you.” Lilia choked on his words. He tried again. “Thank you for understanding.”

Her reply came as dry teasing.

“No tears. If they flow, you’ll have to remove those spectacles to mop up, and your disguise will be dispelled.” Maleficia’s eyes crinkled with quiet laughter.

“Today is a celebration of family. Let us put aside our woes for the future and unusual eyewear, and relish in the present with our cherished children. That is a direct order from me to you, Lilia. I won’t have my subject’s smile wavering in my presence.”

He chortled. The small sound evolved, shaping itself into an awkward laugh. Fully formed, but still shaky at its edges.

Lilia faced the queen, dropping to a kneel. His head lowered, he played out the role of a faithful knight reporting to his sovereign.

“Yes, your majesty! As you command.”

#reminder that this whole convo is going down while Lilia is still wearing those dumb gag glasses #twst #twisted wonderland #Lilia Vanrouge #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #disney twisted wonderland #NRC Family Day #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #Maleficia Draconia #spoilers

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