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duckieflix · 10 months

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♡ ୨`kusuo saiki`୧

☆ ⸝⸝ "i thought you coming here was a one time thing", she raised an eyebrow. "just make my coffee."

kusuo saiki x reader

warnings: swearing, toritsuka.

monthly allowance. something saiki had very little trouble obtaining but had almost too much trouble trying to spend. usually he would buy a cup or two of coffee jelly but unfortunately the store had sold out. they said they would receive their next shipment in a week, but he don't feel like waiting that long.

saiki searched online for cafes that sold affordable coffee jelly and stumbled across a store that looked appealing. joyous day cafe. it had just opened up a few weeks ago and had already become a hit, they sold cutesy deserts and of course, coffee. now, he doesn't usually approach populated areas such as this one, however their coffee jelly had amazing reviews and was even sold for an even better price.

the place was, surprisingly, not as busy as saiki initially thought. the exterior was made of brick, painted an off white colour. there was pink and white striped shades above the windows and the sign was small and hung on the wall. saiki debated on whether to enter not, it was still pretty early in the day which meant it could still get busy over time. he would have turned away then and there but as he turned on his heel a familiar face peered down at him.

"oh hey buddy!", nendo grinned down at the pink haired boy who internally grimaced at his presence. he should’ve just waited for the next shipment to get to the stores. “you goin’ in? let’s go together!”

saiki was about to shake his head but was stopped by another voice that added to his demise, “saiki? you’re here?” teruhashi. great.

all he wanted to do was taste this coffee jelly and go home. but of course, fate had different plans. soon he was joined by kaido, hairo, yumehara and toritsuka. this coffee jelly better be worth it.

once they finally entered the cafe, they sat at a large booth that had soft pink seats. saiki was stationed between nendo and hairo, he was thankful the seats were large enough for at least a small amount of space to be between each person.

a waitress walked up to them, a small smile on her face. she adorned a white button up shirt, black mini skirt with a frilly apron over it and black mary janes with frilly socks. her h/c hair was in a messy low bun and she held a pen and notepad in her hands. everyone immediately recognised her, it was y/n l/n from their class.

“oh! hey guys, fancy seeing you here!”, she smiled her eyes scanned the table and beamed at the familiar faces.

now surprisingly, saiki didn’t mind y/n’s existence as much as the others. only because y/n didn’t put in too much effort into being around him. she was very casual and didn’t smother him with unwanted attention like everyone else, for that he was thankful. their interactions were short, nothing more than a quick hello or a quick conversation about whatever was going on in class but it only lasted a few words.

“what can i get you guys?” y/n clicked her pen.

everyone began ordering, they all ordered the most popular or random dishes. bear shaped tarts, paw print waffles, galaxy tea? it was all so bizarre.

of course, saiki ordered his simple serving of coffee jelly. however, another item on the menu caught his eye. it was called the psychic special. obviously it was just a fun name but he couldn’t help but feel intrigued by the name. the small description stated it was a latte that had a random choice of latte art, if you guessed what the latte art was, you’d get your order half off.

y/n simply nodded and said she’d be back with their orders. toritska’s eyes wandered a little too far down for saiki’s liking, his gaze grazing against the back of y/n’s thighs. "who knew l/n was such a hottie? with legs like that she should be model!". these thoughts irritated saiki so, with enough force to inflict pain, yet not too much as to cause a scene, saiki kicked the purple headed male’s shin. when he yelped in pain, saiki smirked.

"perv"

the group began to babble about the cafe’s interior and admired the many cutesy decorations splattered everywhere. meanwhile, saiki had taken notice of a glass case that had a variety of hot steaming treats aligned neatly next to each other. it was right next to the register and also next to the machine that made the coffee, which happened to be where y/n was.

“hey saiki,” she smiled, “i saved you a small booth over by the corner, thought you’d want some peace and quiet away from that bunch” she pointed over to the group of teens that had suddenly started an arm wrestling match. currently, nendo was on a winning streak.

“you’re an angel in disguise, l/n” saiki nodded at her with his usual stoic expression.

“just doing my job!” y/n gave him a thumbs up before her expression turned quizzical, “what’s up with you coming here? not that i mind, just doesn’t seem like a saiki kinda place”

saiki continued to look at the treats through the shiny glass, “me being here is a one time thing, don’t get used to seeing my face.”

y/n just wordlessly nodded with a smile as he hobbled over to the booth that she saved. it was in a plant covered corner, there was a bookshelf to the left and a window to the right. it only had two chairs, one was occupied by saiki and the other was vacant. in between was a brown circle table. perfect.

a few minutes passed before y/n approached saiki with his order on a circular tray. a glass with a small white ribbon looped around the stem sat neatly in front saiki, the brown gelatin dish smiled up at him, a swirl of whipped cream sat atop the dessert. y/n placed a mug with a small umbrella like cover over the top that saiki assumed contained his 'psychic special'.

"now as you probably guessed, if you guess the latte art, you get your entire order for half of the original price" she slid the tray underneath her arm as she awaited saiki's response.

now obviously this was just a fun game that some people would play, a game of chance. except, this little game was nothing to saiki, being psychic and all, this was just way too easy.

"its a heart" he bluntly stated.

y/n lifted the cover to reveal indeed, it was a heart. she smiled at him warmly, "you're one of the first customers to get that right, good job saiki" she left his table after explaining she would be back with his bill. at this point, the cafe might as well be a restaurant.

when she left, saiki couldn't help but look at her longingly as she walked away. she was definitely one of the more tolerable ones, he couldn't believe he actually enjoyed her presence.

scooping up a chunk of the coffee jelly, he plopped the serving into his mouth and nearly melted at the taste. it was just the right amount of sweet and bitter, the cream made the jelly smoother than regular jelly. it was like heaven!

"holy shit"

after saiki had paid for his order, he waved goodbye to y/n.

"see you at school saiki! thanks for stopping by!" she saved at him, it was a miracle she didn't see the obvious flush of his cheeks. then again, saiki probably cooled himself down before anything could make an appearance.

"buddy! where were you?! we were so worried!" oh.

saiki had been so caught up in enjoying his meal that he forgot about the problems that awaited him. they seemed to have been standing outside waiting for his arrival, how dedicated. they all expressed their worry for his sudden disappearance which made his once amazing mood slightly falter.

they all started down the bricked path, saiki taking one final glance at the cafe. he looked at the building longingly, a strange warm feeling pooling inside of him. he had never felt something like this before, best to not do anything about it.

the bell that hung on the door frame rung throughout the mostly empty cafe, alerting the h/c haired girl behind the counter.

“welcome to joyous day, how may i-“ she stopped herself “saiki?”

our pink protagonist smiled fondly at y/n, something that was never seen. he adorned a pale blue polo shirt and black jeans. something casual yet classy for his visit.

“i’ll get what i ordered last time please” saiki pointed at his usual order on the small menu board, earning a skeptical look from the girl opposite him. she simply nodded.

she started to prepare the hot drink, although her eyes never left the psychic. her cheeks glowed at him, her heart rate picking up slightly. she never took him for the kind of person to become a regular at this establishment, she took him for a simplistic guy. not that she was complaining, if he was here a lot more she’d actually look forward to coming to work. unbeknownst to her, kusuo was feeling something similar.

“i thought you coming here was a one time thing?” she raised a brow.

“just make my coffee”

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finecole · 4 months

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Counterweight

Summary: “One night, he tells you that these last six months of happy memories are the counterweight to two hundred years of misery.”

Pairing: Spawn!Astarion x gn!Tav Reader

Word count: 700

Warnings: mention of sex (18+), FLUFF, 1d20 psychic damage to my emotional well-being

---

“Well, as you know, I am an avid admirer of the freedom of nature’s gifts’’ Astarion taunts, laying next to you, chest puffed up and voice rumbling as he shoots you a smirk.

A grin spreads on your face, and you swat teasingly at his chest, “oh stop it - will you let it go?”

You both laugh as you share a look, letting the laughter wane into a shared smile.

You roll over onto his chest, reaching out a hand to tuck back a stray silver curl. Your hand traces his cheek as it retreats, thumb tracing his cheekbone. The warmth that had gathered in his face a mere moment ago as he came undone, panting in the crook of your neck, had started to give in to his usual icy coldness again. As your hand reaches his chin, he captures it swiftly before its escape, placing soft kisses along your knuckles.

You nuzzle into his chest, closing your eyes, basking in his tender caress.

The two of you had spent many afternoons laying around like this on a bedroll or bed, whatever option would present itself on the road; limbs entangled and lips peppering kisses as you caught your breaths, or Astarion, head resting against the headboard with you curled up to his side, reading out passages from some trashy Drizzt Do’Urden novel you had found in the shops.

You would be quite content, you think, to spend many more afternoons like this.

“My love,” he whispers, tilting his head to the side, sharing the most tender of looks as you meet his gaze. He places your hand that he had been kissing on his chest, where his heart would be, and cups your cheek with the other. He mirrors your own affections, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

“Hm?’’ a soft smile tugs at your lips, as you consider how the piercing rubies that were his eyes could melt into something so soft and gentle when he was with you.

He covers your hand that still lays on his chest with his own, giving it a squeeze. “These last six months with you,” he says softly, carefully selecting his words. “These six months that we have shared, have been the counterweight to two hundred years of misery.”

A silence passes.

“Astarion…” your voice is barely a whisper, as the gravity of his words settles in. How all the words, laughter and touches you had shared, the pushing and pulling of figuring out how to be together, how the cumulation of it all could make up for the unimaginable pain that he had had to suffer. You think that right then and there, you could simply melt into his very being, wanting to envelop him whole.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you fear that you could never gather the right words and arrange them in a way that would express how much love for him burned within you at this very moment - not in the way he had just done. So, instead, you pull yourself up to his face, bury a hand in his hair at the back of his neck, and kiss him. Once, twice, until you lose count. A kiss for every word you could not find, some soft and gentle and others desperate between furtive glances through half-lidded eyes. His hands travel across your back and waist, and for a moment you feel like you don't know where the boundaries of your beings lie.

You pull back at last, though you do not go far, your noses still touching.

“Do you remember my promise?”, you whisper.

He smiles and nods, “you will kiss me under the sun again.”

His hand returns to cup your cheek, swiping away the tear that had threatened to spill before.

You lean into his touch, making a pledge with a smile, “I’ll fight the gods for that if I have to, you know.”

You know he does not lie when he speaks, “I’ll be right there with you, my love.”

---

Note: I've just had this in my head ever since the epilogue launched because OH MY GOD i do not even have the words Tav is quite literally just me in this because what do you say to that??? Its just such a poignant declaration; for Tav to represent so much love and joy to him i just esahjfajksdhjfkah. I haven't written anything in years but here I am, the elf has drawn me out of my slumber. It's also 5 am so apologies for mistakes I may or may not correct them

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion fluff #astarion angst #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #spawn astarion #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #astarion fanfic

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wh40kartwork · 4 months

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Jago Sevatarion

by Zhang Bozi

During his imprisonment, Sevatar is contacted by the Astropath Altani from the Astropathic Choir of the Invincible Reason, who seeks him out to ease his pain and stop his psychic talent from killing him. The girl also warns him that the Altani's contact to a heretic is discovered and the young girl is beaten until her spine breaks by the Master of the Choir - something that enrages Sevatar.

When the Dark Angels initiate transfer of Sevatar to the prison transport ship Remnant of Brotherhood, he manages to escape their custody as Altani takes control of the 12 Dark Angels escorting him. Sevatar makes his way to the Astropathic Choir's quarters and methodically kills the Master of the Choir as punishment for him hurting Altani. He announces to the Dark Angels "I am justice. I am judgement. I am punishment." (from the Lexicanum)

#horus heresy #imperium #space marines #heretic astartes #loyalist astartes #night lords #dark angels #astropath #psyker #warhammer #warhammer 30k #30k #zhang bozi

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eoieopda · 6 months

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one to ten | jww

summary: your roommate may not know how to help you feel better, but that won’t stop him from trying. pairing: jeon wonwoo x reader au: roommates to ?, pining, sick fic type: drabble (hurt/comfort, fluff) rating: pg13 — still, minors do not have my consent to interact with my content. cw: gn!spoonie!reader; downbad!best boi!super shy!roommate!wonu; chronic illness/pain is implied but no diagnosis is specified; hand-holding 👁️👄👁️; barely proofread because brain fog, lol. a/n: this is super self-indulgent and based on my own personal experience with chronic illness (fibromyalgia), so it may be different than yours!! wc: 1k

Wonwoo isn’t psychic, but he knows that something is up the second he gets home from work.

Walking through the door of your shared apartment, he moves immediately to deposit his keys on the nearby hook and finds that yours are already there. Odd, he thinks, given your habit of imposing your own overtime. Your commute is shorter than his, and you still never beat him back here.

He looks down as he toes off his shoes, carefully maneuvering them across the mat to avoid both your heels and your sneakers, which don’t seem to have budged since this morning. Wonwoo frowns. It’s rare for you to skip out on the gym at the end of the day, but it’s unheard of for you to miss work — even when you should, in his non-expert opinion.

That’s a bit of a red flag, he’ll admit.

Wonwoo locks the door behind him, pads off across the kitchen and through the adjoining living room, and eventually stops at your bedroom door. It’s cracked open — a secret code of yours, he’s learned. One that means you don’t want to be alone, but you feel the need to warn him about what’s on the other side. Usually, it’s you, deflated in your bed in a way that you find embarrassing. Still, even on your worst days, he’s never seen you look bad.

He’s not convinced that you could if you tried.

Softly, Wonwoo raps his knuckles against the doorframe to warn you. In response, he gets a muffled, “Hello?” It wraps around his heart and squeezes just a little. He loves that about you; how gentle your voice is when everything else you’re experiencing feels the opposite.

You lift your head up just enough to make eye contact with him as he slips through the doorway, and you smile. If it aches to do so, you pretend like it doesn’t.

He clears his throat awkwardly. “Hey.”

Admittedly, this is the part that Wonwoo feels he’s worst at. He’s never quite sure what to ask or what he can do to help, always simultaneously afraid of being patronizing or too hands-off. It’s a balancing act; his equilibrium is off.

And, god, he’s so shy when it comes to you. He can’t make himself act on any of the comforting impulses he absolutely has, so he simply pauses at the end of your bed and sweeps his eyes over your frame. A triage of sorts, he supposes.

You’re on your right side, hugging a hot water bottle, and there’s a Munchlax plush between your knees to keep them separated. Your left hip hurts, he guesses. It’s probably safe to assume that the rest of you does, too. Crinkling his nose as he thinks, he asks, “One to ten?”

Another code.

Wonwoo has to adjust the scale when you answer — three — because your three is his eleven. The good news isn’t lost on him, though: Your pain was a six during the last flare. Things may not be great, but they’ve definitely been worse.

“Mostly just tired,” you sigh, as if you can hear the calculations he’s running in his head. “I was this close —” You lift an arm and pull your thumb and index finger in so that they’re almost touching. “— to making it out the door this morning.”

Dropping your arm again slowly, you pat the space next to you in silent invitation. Wonwoo’s body hesitates, even though his pulse doesn’t. It’s par for the course, unfortunately for him.

He wonders how many moments like this need to pass before his palms don’t sweat anymore. Will filling the spot next to you on your bed, on the couch, or even in your passenger seat ever not affect him like this?

Maybe not.

He’s okay with that, so long as you keep giving him the opportunity.

You laugh, and it single-handedly diffuses the tension in his posture. “I think the side of the bathtub got taller. I almost had to yell for you to haul me out of there, but I managed.”

“Proud of you.” He’s chuckling now, too, but that doesn’t undermine how much he means it. Getting your body to cooperate with you is always hardest in the mornings.

For what it’s worth, he would’ve come running if you’d called.

Carefully, Wonwoo sits down on the vacant side of your bed and scoots closer to you, knowing you’ll call him out for leaving distance and anticipating how badly he'll blush if you do. It’s so much easier for you to be close to people than it is for him, but he’s trying.

He hopes you see that.

There’s a microscopic wince when you wiggle your way towards him. It’s replaced quickly by a satisfied little grin once you settle, your body curving around his bent knee like a puzzle piece slotting into place.

“You always run warm,” you muse. “I’m jealous.”

Wonwoo blinks, a little dumbfounded that you’ve noticed — not that he should be, really. He’s obviously picked up on a lot of trivia about you since you took over his former roommate’s lease several months back. If he knows the order of your skin care routine, it’s not weird for you to know that he can’t sleep without a fan on.

Should he have noticed this about you by now?

Curiosity makes him bold, apparently. He pulls his palm off the mattress and touches his fingertips to the back of your hand. “Goddamn,” he whistles.

His hypothesis is proven the second he touches you — you’re freezing — but Wonwoo admittedly gets a kick out of the temperature disparity. He can’t help but run the pads of his fingers absentmindedly over your skin, tracing nonsense patterns. You can’t help the pleased hum that slips out of you as you watch his ministrations; or the way your heavy eyelids start to interrupt your view.

Even when he’s sure you’ve been lulled to sleep, Wonwoo keeps doodling. It’s got to be exhausting to exist in a body that always aches, and you deserve whatever rest you can get. Truth be told, he could probably stay like this for hours if that would help. He’d be doing the same thing at his PC, anyways, holding a mouse instead of your hand.

Yeah, he thinks, this is a much better set-up.

#jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #svt #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo drabble #wonwoo hurt/comfort #jww #jade writes #jade’s drabbles #re: one to ten #kvanity

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eunbitchh · 6 months

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sit back & watch me ride

*18+ MDNI*

pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: thigh riding, slight degradation (inner monologue), teensy tiny hint of perv mike, praise, mike cums untouched lol

title based off a lyric from this song, stream it & stan chungha:

the familiar sound of the front door opening and shutting and the heavy steps of mikes work shoes filled the halls, catching your attention from the bathroom where you were just finishing moisturizing your skin after having a warm bubble bath to ease the days anxieties away. you peek your head out of the bathroom door and see mikes figure in the distance hanging up his security vest along with putting his wallet and keys in their designated spot not too far from the front door. you quickly finish up moisturizing your skin and slide on your bed shirt (his shirt, specifically) and a sheer pair of lacey panties so you can go greet him after his long nigh shift he had just come home from.

“hey mike, how was work?” you ask him and lay a soft kiss to his cheek. he looked exhausted, he always did, with the dreams? nightmares rather? that plagued him at any attempt to rest. he sighs and rubs a hand down his face

“uneventful.. has abby eaten?”

you nod “yeah, i made us some lasagna so if you’re hungry i could heat some up for you to eat?”

he seemed to like that idea, so that’s what you did, sharing small talk while he ate and just generally enjoying one another’s presence.

mike always appreciated having you around, he never thought he would find someone who loved and cared about both him and his sister the way that you did, but having you around definitely brought a bit of light into their lives again. he loved you, a lot. however he couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty that your sex lives weren’t all that active- both due to abby being around and the conflicting scheduling between the 2 of you resulting in you both simply be too tired to even think of sex. it was pretty rare that you’d both have the time to have sex at all, but you would both find ways around that regardless.

tonight was 1 of those nights, you were horny, and who could blame you? mike looked good. messy curls, the scruff that created a delicious prickle of pain whenever he went down on you, and those ever so tired eyes. it’s almost as if he was psychic and could hear your thoughts, or maybe you just hadn’t paid attention to what he was saying.. but he was looking at you with a raised eyebrow and a hint of amusement written on his face.

“there something you want?”

“yeah, you.” you answered. blunt? yes. but you were growing antsy after not having been able to have any form of stimulation from him, or even yourself the past 2 weeks. it was torture, you wanted to do nothing more than jump his bones here and now. thankfully tonight abby was having a sleepover at a friends house after the dinner you shared with her earlier so you wouldn’t have to worry about keeping your voice down.. which you knew would be an issue with how touch starved you were currently.

“yeah? how do you want me darling?” he asked you, eyes never faltering away from you, a subtle challenge glinting within them. mike adored you, truly, and despite being too tired to fuck you properly like you deserve he would still do anything it took to leave you satisfied. you eyes scanned over his face and down his body from where he sat, eyes zeroing in on his thighs.

god how you loved those thighs. they were thick and muscular, completely irresistible.

“can i ride your thigh?” you asked him, softly biting your bottom lip while you peered back at his face.

he nodded at your question and patted a hand on his thigh, inviting you to take your rightful seat.

“go on then, pretty girl.”

you didn’t need to be told twice, practically throwing yourself onto him like a total whore, which in this case you were. his whore, specifically. but you really didn’t care, you wanted him. needed him. he watched you closely while you straddled his thigh, how your mouth formed a small ‘o’ at the sensation of his rough jeans coming in contact with your panty clad pussy. he always thought you looked beautiful like this, it made him wish he was an artist so could plaster your image onto a canvas to hang in a museum. or even just take a photo of you in this position to stash away and jerk off to while he was at work..

his hands came to a resting point on your waist, holding you firmly to help you maintain balance while you got yourself comfortable on the meat of his thigh. your quiet whines began to fill the rooms emptiness while you slowly began to rock against him. usually it was him who was louder between the both of you, but something about you being more vocal really got to him, he could feel himself getting hard just from the sight of you slowly rocking your body against his thigh, making all these pretty sounds just for him. fuck, you really had him wrapped right around your finger.

“how’s it feel, pretty girl?” he asked you, voice dropping an octave lower while he watched you through hooded eyes and parted lips, you would think he was the 1 fucking himself right now with how ruined he looked, yet here you were soaking the material of your panties and his jeans because you were so needy.

“feels good.. feels so good” you moaned, resting your face into the crook of his neck, tickling the skin with your heated breath. his hands gripped your waist tighter when you began to rut against his thigh beginning to move at a more rapid pace now, moan after moan falling through your lips.

your hands gripped his shoulders as you continued to shamelessly fuck yourself on his thigh, higher pitched moans coming from you now when he flexed his it beneath you, creating the perfect added sensation to your erratically throbbing clit. he seriously couldn’t wrap his head around how fucking hot you looked using him like this. his cock lurched in its confinement while you continued to grind down on him, oozing beads of precum while he got off just to the sight of you. he was so hard that it hurt but he refused to touch himself, focussing solely on helping you cum right now.

“you gonna cum for me, darling?” he spoke lowly to you, watching you nod in response as you were too caught up in the throes of pleasure to form a coherent response.

“cum for me, cum all over my thigh.”

and you did, with a final loud moan your orgasm ripped through you. you found yourself having to wrap your arms around his neck to hug him close to your body so you wouldn’t collapse from the intensity of it all. he watched you through dark, lust, blown pupils feeling himself cum without even having been touched.

“fuck that was so hot” he whispers to you, softly rubbing your hips while you came down from your orgasm. your breathing was shaky, but you could finally speak again clearly.

“did you.. did you cum?” you ask him with a small smirk. he rubbed the back of his neck at your question, blushing a bit.

“uh.. yeah, i couldn’t help it.” he felt a little embarassed, cumming like that despite having neglected his own pleasure the entire time.

“oh mike you don’t need to be embarassed, that’s actually really hot” you reassured him, resting your head on his shoulder while you stared contently at his face.

he rolled his eyes playfully at your comment but made no argument against it, just revelling in the closeness of your bodies right now.

“anyways.. we should probably get cleaned up and get you to bed, you look exhausted” you spoke in a softer tone, tracing a soft pattern on his forearm with your finger. he nodded in response and lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bedroom to finally get the sleep he so desperately needed, knowing fully well he would finally get a restful night with you in his arms.

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x reader smut #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson x reader smut #i’m so feral for this man

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batfleshh · 7 months

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Grrghhghgh random fucking post about Soap x M!Dog hybrid!Reader

Nsfw warning so like minors DNI and stuff

SFW:

★ Having a hybrid on the team was surely a weird experience for the task force, considering they had never really properly seen one. You were introduced by the captain, Price boasting about your amazing loyalty. You stood there politely, tail calmly swinging as you listened to him talk. You were basically going to be used as a weapon, bringing you out on missions would help the outcomes of them improve.

★ You bonded with the team quite well, hanging around with the captain most often. He appreciated your company, almost like a dad and his dog, claiming you could cause no harm if anything did happen on base.

★ Ghost found you okay to be around, the shedding being his only problem. He treated you like the common house pet, never letting you near him if you had any kind of body odor on you. But other than that, you both bonded quite well. He would often scold you if your hair began to get annoying, shooing you out if you came back in. You eventually did, the “scary” man letting you rest next to him again.

★ Gaz and you often showed a sort of competitive attitude towards each other. Not like rivals, but in a brotherly way. You always bickered, usually with one insulting a psychical trait about the other, but you both worked well on missions.

★ Now you and Soap, you both got along the easiest. Both of your personalities matched up perfectly, bringing both a chaotic good and a calm to the friendship. You both would often flirt with each other, the main thing that he liked about you being your animalistic features. The way your tail would wag when he speaks to you being the highlight of your day. Being on a mission with him was amazing, your natural instinct kicking in to protect him, not letting any enemy harm him.

★ You did let him take care of himself more than often, though. But the protective urge would not leave as easy as it came. You were quite possessive, more often than not. Soap adored it, and would be more than happy to be protected by you.

NSFW:

★ As a hybrid, you were given a higher sex drive than the usual person. It wouldn’t be a foreign feeling for you to be grinding up against Soap, thrusting your hips against his own as you hide your face in his neck. You like to leave bites along his neck, showing off that he’s yours is one of your favorite ways to prove he is. He never missed the way you would glare when any other person would touch him, outside of the task force, of course. As mentioned, you are very possessive when it comes to be necessary.

★ Most of the time, it is Soap who is underneath you, taking your cock in his hole. You love biting at his neck, ears flat against your head as you piston yourself in and out of him. And if he dares to say, he loves to be topped more than he bottoms. Though they are equally fun, he loves the feeling of being dominated by you, being claimed by you over and over again. He loves the feeling of your sharp canines driving into his skin, the painful ache only turning him on more, pushing his hips back against yours. He especially loves when you take care of him after, leaving your cock in him even after you’ve came so many times.

★ But when he does top, it’s a whole different story. He loves the way you whine over his dick hitting that sweet spot inside you, feeling you claw at his back making him groan deep in your ear. Your tail always seemed to wag when you rode him, bouncing up and down on him always made him admire you more fondly. When you both would be in the bedroom, he would take care of you after any hard mission you had been sent out on, especially if you came back with some minor injuries and you needed to take your mind off of it.

★ Sometimes, Johnny finds it kind of amusing to tug on your tail around base, just to tease you. He did it once as a small joke, shocked when a surprised moan fell past your lips. You both just stared at each other, shock littered in both of your eyes. He later did it again, tugging at it gently while you laid on your stomach in your shared bed, hips up as your back was arched. Soap watched as his dick thrusted in and out of you, a smirk clear as day on his face.

★ “Thas’ a good pup f’me, yeah?”, he teased you as you whine underneath him, the sound of his skin hitting yours echoing in the room. He was glad the captain recruited you, not knowing what he would do if he had never experienced it.

#bat bite #male reader #x male reader #gay #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x male reader #soap x male reader #soap x reader #soap call of duty #soap cod #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap #grrghhh he so find I won’t him #hybrid reader

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libbee · 10 months

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Some Astro Observations 🪐

1st house stellium really do have an in-your-face presence. They can be attention seekers without appearing like one. They can be assertive on others without realizing it. Self-reflection is pretty hard for them because they justify everything they do as the natural personality that they cannot change. If others have a problem with them, it is them that need to adjust.

Sometimes, I really do internalize that life is pre-written. "Free Will" is a feeling which is only just a feeling like happiness and anger.

10th house stellium may not always have successful careers or are overachievers. But they can be really great people's person. They may know how to sell their persona, their personal transactions are also quite professional because of how calculative and opportunistic they can be.

Saturn in 8th house does not always give long life. It can give long disease though. It can give life situations where the solution is delayed beyond tolerable limits.

2nd house placements really do value valuable things whether it is possessions or people and even ideology. These are people that may keep touch with all extended family because every person is an asset to them.

Scorpio risings are quite extreme in their persona. Very talkative to very quiet. Very goofy to very irritated. They may be a rollercoaster.

One time I saw a native being very authentic about their life problems and financial weakness. They were too much honest about their problems telling in detail everything wrong in their life. Wow, does this person really trust me so much? Turns out they are a Cancer stellium. This detailed sharing of life story was actually a subtle manipulation to appear harmless and innocent, so that people dont notice their mind game and cunning flavour of personality.

Being in the good books of every single person is essential to a Libra. Their self definition depends on how other people tell them who they are. It is important that people tell them good things about their personality because a Libra can't stand appearing like a bad person.

8th house moon too have extreme emotional drives. This can lead to addictions to things that give extreme pleasure such as food, music, entertainment, social media. They feel everything to the extreme and nothing less.

Capricorn moon really suppress their emotions in order to bear responsibility and appear strong. Their vulnerability can show in other ways that connect the psychic life to physical life such as being obese which shows suppression of feelings.

How we project our own mental images on others and judge/analyze them. But if we withdraw the projection, we realize it was actually our own personality that we saw in others. Even the very bad and worst and evil qualities that you notice in others but refuse/fail to see in yourself.

If you have 7th house lord in 8th house, do warn your partner that they are going to undertake lots of responsibilities and unpredictable ups and downs on your behalf and as being associated with you. Relationship is not just romance and flirting. It is life changing because you become responsible for the well being of someone for a lifetime. You stand with them through thick and thin. And 8th house gives challenges like anything. Though the goal is to tame your mind and neutralize the feelings. Pain or pleasure, all is same. Praise or insult, all is same. 8th house challenges can make you a deep thinker and deep observer who goes to the root of everything. You will realize that it is the bad people and the misfortunes that are the actual eye openers to the truth of life. "But the right way to wholeness is made up, unfortunately, of fateful detours and wrong turnings." ~Carl Jung

#astrology #astro community #astro observations #astrology observations #astroblr #astro notes #astro tumblr #astrology blog #shadow self #astro placements #astrology tumblr #astrology notes #astrology community #astronotes #sidereal astrology #vedic astro notes #vedic astrology

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louloulemons-posts · 9 months

Text

Tea and Toast

Eddie Munson X Reader

Summary : Eddie shows up at your house in the middle of the night.

Word Count : 1.1k

Warnings : Not proofread, another 2am fic, angsty, happy ending?, reader isn’t described with any pronouns or psychical features, Eddies dad, Eddie gets hurt, physical assault, talks of Eddies mom, sad Eddie, cuts and bruises, reader takes care of him.

A/N : This one is a heavy one, so please don’t read if you don’t feel comfortable 🤍

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Baby,” you hear, brain foggy with sleep. Whining in reply, you try to block out the noise. “Sweetheart,” you feel your body being shook.

You’re awake, rubbing your eyes, to wake up your mind. Looking around in the darkness you find Eddie. “Hey,” you say, voice thick with sleep.

Pushing up, you look at him, leaning over to your lamp. He stops your hand. “Eds?”

“Just leave it off.”

“What are you doing here, thought you weren’t coming over tonight?”

“I know, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have come.” He stood from your bed, but you pulled him back gently.

“You know you’re welcome anytime,” you said softly. You pulled him closer to you, “But I know you, and I know you wouldn’t show up at,” you paused and looked at your clock, “2am, randomly without a reason.”

“I couldn’t stay there,”his voice broke.

“What?” you instantly become concerned.

“Im sorry I didn’t know where else to go. He showed up and Wayne’s at work and I-I couldn’t,” his breathing sped up.

“Hey, hey slow down it’s okay. You’re safe,” you pulled him into your arms. Rubbing his back and playing with his curls the way you know he loved. “It’s okay Sweet boy, I’ve got you.”

Slowly you felt him calm down. “My dad,” he began, you didn’t rush him, “I got back from dropping you home and he was at the entrance of the trailer park.

“Wanted to talk to me. To Wayne. Started yelling, saying we ruined his life, his reputation. I tried to get him to leave but he wouldn’t … a-and then … then he um ..”

“Baby did he hurt you?” you asked carefully, not wanting to overwhelm him. He nodded into your neck, letting out a sob. “I-if he wasn’t being so loud, and the neighbours didn’t come out … I just shut down … just like I used too.”

“It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

“One of the guys at the front of the park threatened to call the cops and he bolted.”

“Cause he’s a coward,” you didn’t like bad mouthing people, but Al Munson was the worst.

“Eddie my love, will you let me see your face?” you softly kissed the top of his head and he nodded, sniffling. Pulling back slightly, but not letting go, you turned on your lamp.

Looking at his face, tears came to your own eyes, “Oh my baby, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” leading him to your bathroom, you pulled out your first aid kit.

His lip was popped, the side of his face bruised, he had a black eye coming and his eye brow was cut. “Can you sit here for me?” you motioned to the closed toilet. He sat on the lid silently.

Making your way to stand between his legs, “This is gonna sting,” you spoke, antiseptic wipe in hand. He hummed, you tried to be as careful as possible, touching his eyebrow, but he let out a hiss.

“Sorry, oh I’m sorry baby. I know it hurts.”More tears fell but you knew it wasn’t out of pain, well not physically, this was in his heart. “Why does he hate me?” he sobbed, resting his head on your stomach.

“Because he’s an awful person. You are everything he could never be. You are kind and loving and sweet and gentle. He is a mean man, a broken man.”

“H-he said it was my fault mom-“

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare listen to him, it was not your fault, it wasn’t anyone’s fault.

“B-but he said-“

“I know, but that is because he is a broken man who never learnt how to deal with his emotions. He didn’t talk about your mom and took out all his feelings on you, but Eds you were a baby.

“You were your moms pride and joy, she would hate the way he’s treated you. You have such a good heart and soul, and you honour your mom everyday by being so strong and kind,

“The way you look after Wayne, the kids, me. She’d be so proud. So please do not listen to a thing that nasty man says.”

He calmed in your hold, still holding you tightly. “I love you, thank you for being here,” he said, pulling away from your tummy, his face now splotchy and swollen with tears.

“I will always be here. I love you so much.” You kissed his lips softly, not wanting to hurt him anymore. “Tell you what, if you’re feeling up to it in the morning, we can go and talk to Hop. Tell him what happened, how does that sound?”

“You’ll stay with me?”

“Always. Now let me finish cleaning you up.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Eddie had changed into a pair of clothes he’d left here, whilst you went to make him some toast and tea. Something your mom did whenever you were upset.

You also decided to call Wayne’s work place. “Hello?” an unfamiliar voice answered, clearly tired. “Hi, um I was wondering if I could talk to Wayne Munson please.”

Soon enough you heard his voice, “Munson,” he said simply. “Hey Wayne it’s me.”

“Oh hello Honey, is everything okay?”

“Not really,” you then explained the events of the night. “Is he okay?”

“He was shaken up. I’ve cleaned him up, we’re going to talk to Hopper in the morning. I just wanted to tell you so you could be careful, keep an eye out for him”.

“Well thank you for letting me know. Just … tell him I love him okay, and thank you for taking care of my boy.”

“I always will Wayne, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You wandered up to your room, finding Eddie sat on the bed, legs crossed, eyes skimming across your bookshelf, to keep himself distracted.

“Hey,” you said softly, not wanting to make him jump. “Hi,” he smiled weakly. Passing him the plate and the mug you sat next to him, sipping your own drink.

“I spoke to Wayne, just so he can keep an eye out. He wanted me to tell you that he loves you.” Eddie paused mid bite, almost choking.

“Really?”

“His exact words, he loves his boy. I love him too,” you nudged his shoulder.

“I love you.”

The rest of the night was quiet, you and Eddie drank your tea and ate toast. He lay on your chest, listening to your heartbeat, as you played with his curls.

Soon his soft snores were filling the room. He would be okay. He was surrounded by love, maybe not Al. But Al didn’t deserve him.

People like you, Wayne, your friends. Those were the ones he needed. His family, definitely strange and not at all normal, but a family nevertheless.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

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carooosa · 4 months

Text

Craving Temptation Part 2: Psychic Ecstacy

Part 1: First Bite

Word count: 2.7k Rating: Explicit Pairing: Astarion x AFAB!Tav/Reader Warnings: 18+, tadpole, masturbation AO3 link: Psychic Ecstacy

Summary: You can't sleep and instead spend the night thinking of the vampire who was wormed his way into your mind, in more ways than one. How will you react to Astarion's smooth voice and honeyed words as he talks you through your pleasure?

A/N: If you've read the previous fic, this one is in Tav/Reader POV. If it seems like Astarion is OOC, good, because he's manipulating Tav.

You toss and turn in your bedroll, sleep refusing to bless you this night. Your mind is racing with questions and worry as you think back to all the failed leads so far. Nettie tried to poison you, the goblin “priestess” locked you in a cell, Ethel turned out to be a hag and made you blind in one eye, although you didn’t have to deal with that long since Volo accidentally removed it, and Halsin, while unable to heal you, has agreed to journey with you to Moonrise Towers for a cure.

Thinking about all of your adventures so far gives you a headache, but that pain is soon replaced by the wriggle of the tadpole behind your eye.

A sultry voice fills your head, pushing all of your previous thoughts away. “Unable to sleep, darling?”

Although you were unsure about using the tadpoles… powers, Astarion had quickly accepted the changes they brought. You shoot back a short reply, a simple “No.”

It feels as if he’s chuckling right next to your ear as he responds, “My, my Tav, I thought you didn’t want to use the tadpole’s power. What ever could have changed?”

You scoff out loud at that. “Nothing has changed, I still don’t want to use whatever this tadpole is giving me.”

“Well, I’m simply flattered, dear, that you’d make an exception just for me,” Astarion quips back, and you can vividly imagine the smug smirk that’s across his face.

You huff and roll over in your bedsheet again. Astarion always seemed to pick on you. After you turned down his proposition at the Tiefling party, you were sure that he would leave you alone, but that rejection only seemed to fuel his desire for you further.

It’s not that he wasn’t attractive, gods no, he certainly was. But with the threat of being turned into a mindflayer, as well as the never-ending side quests you seemed to be going on, you didn’t have the time or energy to even humor his advances. Although, you did have the time to at least imagine how a night with him would be.

You picture his face, the sharpness of his nose, and the way his hair is always a perfect mess. His eyes, a piercing crimson, always lingering on your body for a moment too long. His soft lips, an unassuming pretty pink that hid his sharp fangs.

You imagine how those fangs would feel in a kiss. Would they get in the way? Or would they add excitement to the moment? How would Astarion react if you bit him?

You think about how elegant he looks when lounging around camp, leisurely reading a book in the sunlight— just a hint of his chest peaking out beneath his shirt. His arms are muscular, usually hidden beneath his armor but put out on display when he rolls his lounge shirt up.

And his hands. Gods, his hands. You’ve seen him make quick work of a lock, his fingers nimbly maneuvering his lock-picking tools with ease. You imagine those hands on your body, feeling you up and down, the coolness of his touch would somehow heat you up. You picture his hands going lower.

“Having fun, darling?” Astarion’s voice rips through your thoughts.

Embarrassment washes over you as you realize that he was spying in on you obsessing over him. “It’s not what it looks like, I-” you start, only to be interrupted by the silky voice of the man you admire.

“There’s no need to be flustered, now, is there? To be honest, I thought there was something utterly messed up in that head of yours when you turned down my offer. But I’ve noticed the way you look at me. I see the longing in your eyes. Why not let me relieve some of your stress?”

“Astarion, we don’t have the luxury to fool around with each other. We have to get to Moonrise Towers as soon as possible,” you reply back to him, and you can feel a twinge of annoyance in your tadpole.

“Yes, yes, getting rid of the tadpole and all that. You’ve made it perfectly clear that no time is to be wasted.” He responds. You expect him to leave you alone at that, but instead, he offers a new proposition. “You’re certainly not going to sleep anytime soon, and I can feel your arousal from our connection. I won’t give you the best night of your life, against my better judgment, but who’s to say we can’t keep this connection while we both take care of ourselves, hm?”

You think for a moment. It might be beneficial to, as Astarion says, alleviate your stress. You have been wrangling a handful of companions who all have different ideas of the best path to take. It’s been over a tenday now and you’re exhausted, not just with them but from the constant creeping of anxiety in the back of your mind. Perhaps letting go would give you the refresher you need to keep pushing forward. And besides, you’ll just quickly and quietly masturbate, clean up, and then go right to bed. You wouldn’t lose any more sleep than you’ve been losing lately.

“Fine,” you say back to Astarion and you feel a hint of surprise before the overwhelming feeling of lust, causing your heart to skip a beat.

“So you can make smart decisions,” he quips. “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable, pet.”

You feel like a disobedient child who’s stayed up past their bedtime to sneak some sweets as you prop up your pillow and undress your lower half. You reassure yourself that this is the most logical thing to do and that you’re doing it to clear your mind to be a better leader, nothing else.

“Tell yourself whatever you want, but we both know that you’ve been craving my touch and have finally succumbed to your yearnings. It’s understandable, really, that you would be distracted by my dastardly good looks and body. But what you don’t know is that I am well experienced when it comes to pleasing others. While I’ll settle with talking you through your pleasure, I’ll ensure that after tonight you’ll be begging for the full experience.”

You know that you'll reprimand yourself for this later. You've already agreed to do whatever this is that you're about to do, and you're never one to back down from a challenge.

"Don't make me regret this," you warn the vampire as you close your eyes.

His voice overwhelms your mind. "I wouldn't dream of it."

He pauses for a moment leaving you wondering if he's changed his mind, when suddenly you hear his silky voice yet again. "I've got to say, Tav, that I never expected you to have so many scandalous thoughts in that pretty little head of yours. It took me by surprise to see you imagining my face, my body, my hands. Perhaps I could give you a lesson on lockpicking sometime."

An image of Astarion expertly unlocking a chest flashes in your mind. With years of experience, he's able to use only one hand to undo the contraption. His fingers languidly run over each hook of his tool, pausing over the one he needs and rubbing it between two fingers. While he shows you this image, one of your hands travels down your body and to your entrance. You mimic the movement on your clit, finding the perfect spot to rub and pinch.

“Good Tav, keep touching yourself for me. Pretend your hand is mine, teasing your clit and working you up into a mess,” Astarion instructs.

You feel guilty for a moment, taking your own pleasure and not thinking of anyone else. Astarion must have somehow picked up on your dread as your attention is snapped away from your guilt. You feel the whisper of a cool hand against your face before it disappears, and Astarion reassures you.

“We’ll have none of that now, darling. You’ve every right to turn down my advances, but it’s simply cruel to deny yourself pleasure.”

You stop touching yourself and respond, “I’ve done nothing to warrant a ‘reward’ for myself. There’s still so much that’s yet to be done; this was a mista-”

Astarion abruptly cuts you off “Blasphemy. You’ve done nothing but help others this entire time I’ve known you. You’re the epitome of what a savior is, yet you refuse yourself the title. Even the gods above take their praises in pride.” He pauses for a second, letting the words sink in before continuing, “I suppose that just proves that the gods themselves are nothing compared to you.”

Your heart catches in your throat at the words he throws your way. You freeze, scared that if you even breathe you’ll ruin the moment.

“Besides, if nothing else it’ll make the playing field even again,” he quickly adds.

“What do you mean even again?” you ask, only to be met with silence. Although you don’t want to embrace the tadpole, you decide to push into Astarion’s head. You’re met with a flash of a scene: Astarion, mouth full of your blood with some dripping down his chin, frantically fucking his hand in the woods behind the camp. As quickly as the image appears in your mind it’s gone.

“You drive me mad, Tav. Bless me with the privilege of being your undoing. Allow me to be your ecstasy.”

You’re unsure how to respond to such a plea. Exploring your own wants and desires had always been pushed to the background, the responsibility to help others always taking precedence.

You decide to give Astarion one last chance to back out. “I’m not as experienced as you are with this sort of thing. I’ll be awkward.”

“Let me guide you, then,” he offers, and you finally decide to give into this want of yours.

“Tell me what I should do.”

You feel a rush of excitement through the mind-link you share. “Oh darling, there’s nothing I’d rather do. Now, let’s give you the most mind-shattering pleasure imaginable. Follow my instructions and let me know if there’s anything you don’t like. Open your mind up to me so I can see what you’re doing.”

You take some deep breaths and relax, strengthening the connection to his tadpole until your minds are completely connected, Astarion’s voice as loud as your own thoughts.

“Why don’t we spend some time worshipping those breasts of yours? I want you to massage them, try different speeds and different amounts of pressure, until you find a momentum that you like.”

You oblige, tentatively touching yourself and wondering what the point is of doing this.

“Tsk, tsk, you refuse yourself pleasure so much so that you think masturbation is just a means to an end. My darling, your body is simply divine. If I was ever given the chance I would make sure that no inch goes untouched, no part of you unloved. Gods, Tav, you captivate my mind every second of the day.”

Your face flushes red and a warmth spreads through your body. You’ve found a slow and gentle pace, but Astarion urges you to press further.

“Don’t be afraid, darling. Your body can withstand some roughening up. Hells, what I wouldn’t do to mark you up, leave bruises on your unblemished skin.”

“Your body is a temple yet explored, and I intend to be your guide. Rub and pinch your nipples for me, darling. Bite your lip and rub your thighs together. You like being bitten, don’t you, Tav? Don’t think your little whimpers and shakes went unnoticed by me. Fuck, Tav-” Astarion’s voice falters, instead replaced with some grunts.

You listen to Astarion’s instructions and squeeze your nipples tightly, yelping at the pain but then doing it again, quickly becoming addicted to the sensation. You think back to the night you awoke to find the vampire looming over you, his eyes filled with hunger, a hunger for you. You jolt at the thought and bite your lip, hard, relishing in the slight pain.

All the while you experiment with your pleasure, Astarion has gone quiet. You search for him in your mind. You’re overwhelmed with the erratic thoughts going through his head, thoughts of you, your body, your voice, your scent; every single position Astarion would like to take you in.

“Astarion?” you gingerly ask.

As soon as you say his name, a feeling of bliss radiates from him.

“Hells below Tav, you’ll be my ruin.”

“What happened?” you ask.

“What happened? What happened?” Astarion repeats to you. “What happened, my dear succubus, is what I hope to bring unto you. I see you’ve been listening to my instructions as I can smell your arousal from my tent.”

You quickly notice the wetness that has begun to pool beneath you, your nipples fully hardened from your touch.

“You’re such an obedient little pet, aren’t you? Oh, how I would train you to become drenched at the sound of my voice if you’d let me. Let me guide your hands, Tav. Keep one hand on a breast and move the other to your clit.”

You oblige, his voice filling your mind and working you up. You gently place a finger on your clit and begin to rub, gasping out loud from the sensitivity.

“Don’t falter on me just yet. I have yet to explain how I would ravish you with my tongue, slicking you up before using my fingers to stretch you out. I’d leave you a writhing mess beneath me, begging for me to fill you with my cock.”

As you stimulate your clit, an image of Astarion looming over you with hair unkempt and eyes blown out from lust pushes into your mind. You rub faster, and right as you reach your peak, Astarion speaks.

“Cum for me.”

With the sound of his voice and the image in your mind, your body shakes as you cum. Your breathing steadies and you feel an overwhelming emptiness in your core.

“Already wanting more?”

You shake your head and try to come to your senses. “This was more than I’ve done and more than I expected to do tonight.”

Astarion starts to tease you, amused with this revelation. “More than you’ve done? Don’t tell me you’re a virgin, now.”

“No! I’ve had sex before, I just-” you start to correct him before he cuts you off.

“You’ve never orgasmed before, have you?” You don’t respond. “Oh, Tav. You sweet forbidden fruit. You have no idea just how much pleasure I could give you. The night’s young; let me show you what pure bliss really feels like.”

You’re almost tempted to agree before you remember that you’re on a mission to get rid of the tadpoles you’ve been using to talk to Astarion.

“Tsk, it’s a shame you won’t indulge in yourself. Nevertheless, I thoroughly enjoyed this. I would ask if you had fun, but I already know the answer.”

You decide to quickly shut this down before it continues further “Goodnight, Astarion.”

You feel a twinge of disappointment from him before it disappears. “Goodnight, Tav. Try not to dream of me too much.”

Before you’re able to sever the connection, Astarion shows you the mess he’s made of himself during your conversation. He sends the moment he came undone into your mind: you saying his name. You see him thrusting into his hand as streams of cum shoot out of his cock.

The connection ends, and you’re left alone with the silence of the night and your thoughts. You’re unable to get the image out of your head. Your hands start to wander over your body as you recall the instructions he gave you, this time imagining it’s Astarion touching your body. It looks like you won’t be getting much sleep tonight after all.

Part 3: Sanguine Relief

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ephermiro · 26 days

Text

Naughty Brahmsy - Brahms Heelshire x F!Reader

"Right now you're mine, all mine."

A/N: This is taking place after the first movie when Greta left. I might make this one into a series. Until I get some requests in, I'll be posting some of my own stuff I've written in my downtime. If you do have requests, look at my pinned post on my profile!

Warnings: some nonconsensual grabbing and grinding, blood, tit fucking, facial.

Brahms delt with the psychical ache of wanting to have you all for himself for weeks now ever since you moved in as new nanny. Your smell, skin, everything made him so thirsty for you that he could slit that pretty throat and drink you up. But he needed you alive, alive so he could make you his. In Brahms' mind, as long you lived in the manor, you were his to fuck and breed when desired. He was pathetic for you, spending nights of palming his hard on while watching you through the walls instead of just going out and taking you.

That what was going through his mind when watching you make him a sandwich. The filthy thoughts of bending you over the counter and breeding you until Brahms was collapsing on the floor. To have you shaking and mewling as he ravaged your skin. He never had actually done these things, just thought of it. All he had was the sex doll given to him by his parents so he could fuck out his frustrations and the porno magazines he kept in a messy pile. None of that was compared to the real thing. Brahms looked down from you at the aching between his thighs. The erection that reminded him that he had all the power to make you submit. Brahms had to do something. Even if it meant getting in trouble. Before you knew it, you were shoved up against the counter from behind, Brahms' massive hands gripping the edge of the counter. His nose tucked into the nook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply. Each whiff made him whimper, God he was fucking pathetic but it was cute. Brahms pressed his hips up against your ass, his arms coming tightly around your hips, grinding hard against you like the horny bastard he was.

"Brahms, what are you doing?" You gasped out when you felt his erection pressed up against the curves of your body. It was fucking big, and it was needy for a wet hole. "Please...please. Shut up. Let me-" Brahms whined harder, his cool mask pressing against the sensitive skin of your neck. You hands pushed at his arms around his waist, causing the man to growl out and start to whimper like a hurt dog. "Brahms! Quit! You're being really bad!" You shouted out before you were interrupted his Brahms slamming his palm over your mouth to keep you shut. Brahms bent you over the counter, one hand on the back of your head and the other holding you up by your hips.

It all came crashing down when Brahms felt the sharp pain of small teeth digging into the meat of his palm. He smacked your mouth, yelling out in pain as he pulled away. The perfect, bloody indents of your teeth in his palm told Brahms all he needed to know about you. That you were going to be harder than he thought. "Brahmsy! Bad!" You hated being mean to him, Brahms was a sweet boy sometimes. Brahms glared at you like you had just told the man that he was a fucking failure and that you hated him. His eyes going wide under his mask in hot anger and then into sadness. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'll be good. I promise I will." Brahms held up his bleeding palm to you like he wanted you to tend to it.

He was a big ol' baby.

"Why the hell would you do that?" You took his hand on frustration, still trying to prod at it with gentle fingers. You used the hem of your apron to dab up the blood that was bubbling up in his palm. Brahms tilted his head at you, those damned puppy eyes. He always tried them whenever you weren't doing what he wanted. "I'm sorry. I just...I want to..." Brahms mumbled off, his eyes darting away quickly from you. You looked up from the crimson blood on his palm as he started to go quiet, only the deep and brooding melodies that came out of the gramophone filled the awkward silence between you two.

"You want to what?" You placed a finger on Brahms' chin, bringing his face back to you so he could look in your eyes. You felt his breath hitch in his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Brahms felt so sure earlier, so confident, now he was scared that you were disappointed in him and would leave. "I wanted to touch you." Brahms finally said, hissing through his teeth slightly as you applied pressure to the wound. His words caught you of guard, mostly because Brahms saying that wasn't normal for him. He was a bit weird and said out of pocket things, but he had a filter. "You have to ask to touch." You said firmly, hoping it would get the point across. His eyes lit up as you said that, that was what he wanted to hear.

"Can I..." Brahms held his hand up, making a squeezing motion with his fingers near your breast. You had to fight rolling your eyes, of course he was going for the tits. You just nodded, taking his palm and pressing it against your breast. Brahms' eyes stared at him palming your tit like it wasn't really happening. He eventually gave a soft squeeze, his breathing coming out harder from under the mask. Just a small touch and Brahms was already huffing like an angry bull over it. He reached his other hand up, squeezing the other breast. Brahms was gentle at first, his thumbs caressing your curves, feeling the smoothness of them though your shirt. Brahms looked down at you, his masked face inching closer to yours. It was the exact replica of the once perfect doll that was shattered just months ago. Brahms pressed the lips of the mask against your's. It was sweet, almost like he was kissing you with the small tits of his head. You reached a hand up, touching the bottom of it. "May I?" You asked gently to make sure not to tip Brahms off and cause him to freak out over nothing.

Brahms nodded quickly, he was excited. He never actually kissed someone besides his momma and Greta. But both left him. You lifted Brahms' mask up ever so slightly to just see his lips. They were small, chapped, his facial hair making the pink color of them stick out. You noticed the burn scars on the small bit of skin that was showing, it didn't bother you much, but it was a reminder of what he did. Brahms didn't give you a second to think, just crashed his lips straight into your's. His hands tangled up into your hair, holding it tight in his grasp to keep you in place. The kiss was like two teenagers making out for the first time. Sloppy, needy, breathy. Between each wet smack of your lips was a small gasp of air. Brahms palmed at your breasts again, grabbing them with a new heated fervour. His tongue protruded your mouth, prodding inside your mouth to try to taste you inside and out. His hands gripped the front of your shirt before pulling the front down enough for him to see. Brahms pulled from the kiss, his lips parted and glistening with the mix of your saliva with his.

Your breasts were beautiful to him. It was definitely worth the wait to Brahms, seeing tits out of his porn magazines was so much better. He didn't think before he spoke, the words just fumbling out. "Let me fuck them. Please." You looked up at Brahms with a shocked look, not bad shock, but just shock he would even want to do that. "Please. On your knees." He begged again. Brahms pulled the rest of your shirt up, letting your tits bounce out. You got down on your knees, raising yourself up just enough for Brahms to be able to easily shove his cock between them. Brahms moaned out loud, his mouth hanging open as his trembling opened his pants and pulled his cock out quickly. It was thick, heavy enough for it to still be slumped over when rock hard, a dark patch of curly pubes around the base. Brahms struggled for a bit to get it in position to the cleavage of your breasts before he got it. He pressed your tits together, shoving his cock up between them. The swollen, pink tip stuck out the tops of your breasts, the foreskin hugging slid down his shaft with each thrust.

Brahms was already panting and whining like a dog, his strong hands gripping your tits together. You tilted your head down just low enough to take his cock head in your mouth, making him moan out louder. Brahms watched as his precum built up at the slit of his cock, the sticky fluid glazing over your breasts. He took a hand, pinching one of your nipples roughly, making you yell out in pleasure. You could feel the folds between your thighs growing wetter by the moment as he twisted and pulled at your nipple and sending electric pleasure for you.

With a loud groan, Brahms pulled away, his cum shooting out of his cock in thick ropes onto your tits and face. You felt the warm liquid dripping dripping down your lips and breasts, leaving hot streaks of Brahms' seed behind. He reached to your face, smearing his cum over your lips like it was lip gloss. "Again?" Brahms asked with a tilt of his head, making you laugh softly.

"Later, Brahmsy. You were a good boy."

#smut writing #fanfic #brahms heelshire #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms the boy #brahms x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #Spotify

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jolenes-doppelganger · 2 months

Text

Shooting the Messenger

Reverend Mother Jessica Atreides x Fem!Harkonnen Reader

Summary: Following the Battle of Arrakeen, House Harkonnen remains decimated. With Baron Harkonnen’s corpse slowly rotting in the sand and Feyd Rautha thrown amidst a pile of burning bodies, Reader is left with no choice but to hide amidst the rubble of the city in the hope of eventually escaping before being killed. Unfortunately, the bastard child of Emmi Harkonnen finds herself cornered, incapable of escaping from the clutches of the still surviving Atreides clan. (Emmi Harkonnen is the wife of Abulurd Harkonnen, brother to the Baron Harkonnen- NO INCEST!!!!).

Warnings: Dark circumstances (war, murder, death), complimentary Stockholm/Lima syndromes dynamic, grey-morality, abuse of power (Jessica), spitting

A/N: I’ve leaned more into the circumstances of the Dune books, specifically with Alia being born before the Battle of Arrakeen. If pregnant women are your thing, good for you, but I’m not into pursuing a relationship with a woman pregnant with a psychic, talking baby that observes everything going on from inside the womb. (Authored with inspiration and council from @ilovehotactresses- Here ya go buddy). This is all worldbuilding, no sexy times, I apologize. I legit cannot comprehend this woman fucking someone just 'cause she can. More sexy times later, I promise, promise, promise!!

Word Count: 3.3k

House Harkonnen had fallen. Baron Harkonnen was dead. Feyd Rautha, his successor, laid upon a pile of Sardaukar and Harkonnen soldiers, slowly being burned by flames on the sands of the fallen city. You had lost track of Beast Rabban, your oldest half-brother. It mattered not, you hated both of your half-brothers, the dead Feyd Rautha most especially. But regardless of resentment and old wounds, you were left without protection. Finding a dark, well hidden corner of the fallen city was difficult. But you did. Panting, in between collapsing from exertion and crying out of fear, you'd found a corner. Making yourself as small as possible, you covered your ears and froze.

"Reverend Mother, you cannot go into this sector! It is not secured!" a voice echoed down the halls.

"I don't have another option. Alia has spoken to me of her. I must find this remaining vestibule of the Harkonnen throne, the one that remains, the living heir." a voice rasped.

Silence. The room fell silent, and the footsteps disappeared. It must have been an illusion of some sort, a trick of the senses. Those voices and footfalls had been near, therefore the woman who spoke should have been near.

"There you are. Rise."

A force greater than you pulled you up, causing you to put pressure on your lacerated, probably fractured leg. You cried out in pain, but you remained standing.

"Nevermind. Kneel."

You kneeled, the force of your knees on the stone caused white hot pain to flash up your body. Hands cupped your face, pushing back the veil that hid your hair.

"Ahh, so you're half-Harkonnen? The rumours are true.. You're Emmi Harkonnen's bastard, her little mistake." the woman cooed, stroking over the hair repeatedly. "Precious, so precious. You'd make a poor heir. But we have to ensure that, don't we?"

You could only wheeze, looking up at the veiled woman in spite and fear.

"Oh, if you've heard the rumors, you've most certainly heard of my rumored fathers." you managed.

Reverend Mother Jessica drew closer.

"No, I most certainly haven't."

Glaring up at her intentionally, you smirked in recognition of the advantage you had.

"I was supposedly conceived during an Imperial caucus, the product of an affair. But I've heard the whispers. I may have been the product of none other than your deceased Duke Leto."

The slap that landed across your cheeks was resonant, and humiliating. No matter how much pride one has, slaps can never be any less humiliating than nature intends them to be. Tears collect in your eyes from the force, and you're knocked backwards, or to the side, depending on the direction of the slap.

"You will not speak of such things." Mother Jessica seethed.

"It doesn't matter if I was his bastard. This was several years before he met you."

Her hands encircled your throat, and you were met with the steely blue eyes of the Reverend Mother in the flesh.

"Shut your mouth. I have one purpose for you, and if you do not fulfill it, you will find how little life has left to offer you."

"-I'm a bastard child, there was never-"

"Sleep."

Jessica could only look with a mix of relief and victory as the Harkonnen slumped forward, pushed into a dream-like state by her command of the Voice. This child was a fighter, she knew it to be true. But she hadn't slapped the young woman out of spite, or fear, rather it had been merely annoying to suggest she was the Duke's child. Jessica knew her deceased concubine well, she knew that if he had made such a mistake as sleeping with the wife of a royal Harkonnen it would have come out before his death, most certainly under the pressure of the move to Arrakis. Not to mention the child in front of her did not look like her duke. She'd know his features anywhere; they were burned into her soul.

"Pesky, belligerent. More Harkonnen than I'd like to admit." Jessica muttered to herself. "Pick her up and have her treated for her wounds. She is useful, for the time being."

The Sayyadina that surrounded her nodded, and a Fremen soldier appeared, hauling the war-worn woman up, towards a medical unit. Jessica knew that her injuries would not be attended to at all if she did not press the matter, so she ensured that the girl was brought into her chambers, that her Sayyadina would oversee the matter to fruition. In the meantime, she had the council of her child Alia to attend to.

"It is done?" the toddler asked, voice uncharacteristically adult, in a tiny little body of a girl.

"Yes, the Harkonnen bastard will be attended to." Jessica murmured.

Her daughter came forward, crawling into her mother's lap. Regardless of her mental age, the body begged for connection from her mother, the soul too.

"She is more than just a bastard, she could be very useful to Paul's cause." Alia mused, childish voice still containing a hint of a lisp.

Jessica hummed, stroking the blonde curls that were springing from her daughter's scalp.

"How do I manipulate her to our needs?"

Alia furrowed her brow, thinking carefully. It seemed the little girl blessed with such mental and psychic foresight was momentarily at a loss for words, carefully considering her next proposal.

"She is like her brother. She has wounds, desires, all of which are accessed through physicality, through sexual manipulation." the girl spoke.

Jessica looked at her daughter carefully.

"So, I bed her?"

Alia shook her head.

"Seduction comes in many ways. If it pleases you to engage with her like that..." but Alia did not finish the thought. "It is not necessary to go all the way."

Jessica hummed, returning to petting her daughters curls. Upon inspection, they were covered in dirt and sand. It was natural for the Caladan born woman to immediately think of baths, but on Arrakis no such luxury could exist. Her daughter was of the desert, conceived upon Arrakis, of this Jessica was sure. Secondly was the matter of her daughter's strange connection to the sands. Alia smelled of the desert, an eerie quality Jessica could not explain. Truth be told, the warrior-child scared her. The mere toddler, the small body that contained such irreputable wisdom and violence, it was a body that should have glowed with innocence, of mindless naivety.

"Mother, of what do you think?" Alia asked, seemingly sensing the dark, contemplative nature of her mother.

"Of matters that you need not concern yourself with, my daughter." Jessica answered curtly. "... I have but one request. Stop wielding those knives. Your mind is old, but your body is young.."

"-I will be fine." Alia shrugged, hopping off of her mother's lap, walking away.

Watching her daughter display such independence was exhaustingly emotional. Jessica felt the tell-tale sign of her eyes burning, and the willpower it took to restrain the tears that begged to fall was more exhausting than just allowing her body to release a few drops of water. Walking away, Jessica moved towards the body that lay prone some distance aways. Jessica yearned for something to care for, something that needed her, someone that would be loyal, and innocent in the nature of the world in ways that her children could not be. Jessica wanted something to call hers, and hers alone.

<------------->

Glowing light burned through the windows of the conquered city of Arrakis. Smoke wafted through the main palace, the smell tinged with burning hair and flesh. It was grotesque, the smell unforgettable. It reeked of murder, of shed blood.

"Ahh, she awakes." a voice purred, hands encircling you, a face coming into focus.

Blue eyes of the desert came into view. Tattoos, marks of prophecy; symbols your mind could not comprehend adorned her face. Hair, brown and dark, hints of grey peppered in amongst the rest of her straight hair.

"Who are you?"

The woman smiled, and her breath was unnaturally odorless. The product of fasting, you assumed.

"You may call me Lady Jessica, if that suits you." the woman murmured. "Or Reverend Mother."

Lady Jessica Atreides, mother of Paul Atreides, the Lisan al Gaib, Muad'dib of the Fremen, prophet, the mind to bridge time and space. The mother of the demon-child Alia, St. Alia of the Knife, abomination, Reverend Mother, that which should have remained unborn. You knew her well. You knew of her hell-spawn, her corruption, her disregard for higher authority. She submitted to her son, but that was an illusion, you assumed.

"No." you rasped. "No, no, no, no!"

Jessica pressed a hand over your mouth, silencing you.

"Shh," she cooed. "No fear, no cries for help. None of it will make a difference for what I have planned for you."

Since you were a child, since before you had the ability to comprehend the complexities of being a Harkonnen, of being a but a half-breed, you'd always known that it had been okay to run to your mother. Scraped knee? Mother. Your older brothers cornering you? Run to mother. Maids jeering and bothering you? Mother. Lonely, scared and wet after an acid polluted thunderstorm caught you and burned your skin red and painful? Mother. It was in these moments of foolish vulnerability that your heart would sing for that connection, that safety. It was futile. Emmi Harkonnen had died years prior.

"Hmm... Alia may have made her first mistake." Jessica mused, dissecting your fearful micro-expressions. "Or only partly right."

Jessica's hands reached up, cupping your face, brushing hair out of your eyes. Thumbs glided over your brows, analyzing your expressions carefully.

"No... You'll be much easier to crack this way..."

Hauling you up and into her arms felt deceptively easy for Jessica. Her body had hardened and grown sinewy with tough, resistant muscle the longer she remained in the desert. She drew you to her breast, resting head in the crook of her armpit. She reeked of sweetness, of sweat long dried, of the unmistakable tang of spice.

"There... Don't fight it, don't try to hide away." Jessica whispered, her breath now sickly sweet, from low-blood sugar, you guessed.

"You need to stop fasting." you murmured. "Your breath is sweet."

Jessica laughed a little, cradling you closer.

"I have complete control of my bodily functions. You need not concern yourself with the matters of my health."

Hands dragged over the cloth clothes the Sayyadina had pulled over you. Bandages covered your body in innumerable places, your leg was especially bandaged, the product of the fracture you'd sustained. Jessica continued stroking your face, pulling you closer, fingers desperately combing through your hair.

"It's been so long since someone's needed me... Even my own daughter outgrew the need for me once she was a year old..." Jessica whispered, her face showing signs of paranoia, of unmistakable jealous rage. "The Bene Gesserit have taken so much from me... My mother first, then my innocence, my connection with my Duke, my son's innocence, the life of my beloved, even my own daughter."

There was a madness in her eyes that could not be explained. She was strong, ruthless, ready to take and take and milk the desert of every last devotion to her cause, to her children that it could offer. But yet with all that work, with all that pain and suffering she'd put forth, her children grew farther apart from her. Jessica grabbed at the Harkonnen woman with desperation, pulling her in as close as their mortal forms could allow.

"No, you will be mine and you will love me."

"Let me go, I want to go home." you protested, trying to wiggle out of the woman's arms.

The madness in her eyes grew brighter, and she smiled obscenely.

"But you are home."

"I live on Giedi Prime." you whimpered.

Jessica let out a laugh so harsh it might have been mistaken for screech.

"Giedi Prime? No child. I could not send you back to your decaying father, to the dark, colorless, soulless world of Giedi Prime. You belong to me now. Arrakis will be your home. Then, one day, when the time comes, you and I will return to Caladan. We will live on the cliffs, the oceans will sing to us, the breeze... We will remember the good days, and make them ours once again..."

The woman in front of you, the woman who cradled you was haunted, deranged in ways that could not be explained. Whether she had been pushed too far by the loss of her house and her beloved Duke, or whether it had been the Fremen Spice Agony that had caused her to be so utterly consumed by her desires, by her visions of Paul and his propheted status as the Lisan al Gaib.

"I want to be close to my mother." you whispered.

This gave Jessica some pause, she stalled her frantic massage of your scalp, your neck, your face.

"I could be your mother, if you wanted." she whispered. "I could be that for you... I could be whatever you needed, just so long as you needed me."

Jessica seemed on the verge of a breakdown of some sort. Whether it would result in violence, in verbal aggression, tears, yelling or complete psychosis, she was close to cracking all the way.

"I just. Need you. To need me." Jessica whispered.

Pity. The first feeling that came over you when she said those words. The woman in front of you was fearsome, yes. But the truth was she was broken. For all the psychic enhancement and wisdom she'd maintained, she was scarred and brutalized, a thing of beauty and willpower turned feral and menacing due to the elements of the desert planet Arrakis. It was a look you'd seen in your mother, days before Feyd had murdered her. An animal cornered, and animal bearing it's teeth and striking out at anything that dared confront it. Fear. For all of Jessica's training and years of containing her fears, she had never conquered one. Jessica Atreides, Reverend Mother and widower of the Duke Atreides, daughter of the Baron Harkonnen, mother of the most fearsome leader of the advanced times was afraid of being abandoned, of no longer being needed.

"... I don't want a mother... I don't think I could bear treating another woman with the same type of affections as I gave my mother."

Jessica's face spasmed in grotesque anger and betrayal.

"But I need someone. And I don't have anyone to turn to."

She swallowed, a vein on her forehead bulging with the stress of containing her emotions.

"I am that person." she rasped, voice coming out in violent puffs of air. "No one else will put up with you, no one else will bother keeping you alive. You are stuck on Arrakis. The Harkonnen troops are dead, Grossu Rabban is dead. No one will come to save you." Jessica sneered, violently digging her hands into your hair. "The Bene Gesserit will abandon Princess Irulan here as the bride of Paul, the Emperor will retreat back to House Corrino with the Bene Gesserit. They will not bother hauling a bastard such as yourself with you."

Her words rang harsh, true. You needed the woman in front of you to survive, and you suspected that without someone to love, to love her back in the ways she needed, she too would find herself irrevocably insane.

"I know."

"Silence!"

Your mouth clamped shut, teeth clacking together aggressively. Jessica let out a low whimper, holding you close. She seemed to be muttering in a foreign language, eyes glazed from effort. It was becoming apparent that Jessica did not have control over her body as she said she did, or, more accurately, she was pushing it to limits that were unsustainable. You managed to reach for a glass of water. Jessica did not notice. Your throat begged for moisture, you needed the water as much as she did, but if she died and you didn't... No one would keep you alive.

"..." you tried to speak, but the command remained.

Bringing the cup to her lips, you managed to coax her into drinking. Jessica's hands flew to the cup, gulping down the water greedily. You suspected it was the first time she'd had water in days. Dates lay on the table. Again you were presented with the dilemma of eating it and fueling your weak body or giving it to the weakened Jessica. You brought the dates to her mouth, one by one until they were gone. She appeared to recover gradually. As her senses came to her, she called out to a Sayyadina, requesting something.

"You are wiser than I thought." Jessica murmured. "I had not realized how long I had been fasting."

The Sayyadina returned with food, hot and earthy smelling. She handed you a bowl, allowing yourself to eat without help. But as you struggled with coordinating in the awkward position, she ultimately grabbed the bowl, spoon feeding you like a child. Water was provided, and the relief it brought was indescribable. Jessica finished her own portion of food, ingesting more water. She appeared to be healthier now, more content and less capable of descending into madness.

"There. Now we are both taken care of." Jessica smiled. "You may speak now, the command only lasts for as long as I wish it to."

You looked around, seemingly looking for something to say to test your ability to speak, but found none. Jessica noticed this, humming appreciatively.

"Alright then, if I must speak first, so be it. You said that you did not need a mother. Of that I can understand, but do not necessarily agree with. Everyone needs a mother figure in their life, until middle adulthood I would imagine. You are young still, you require coaxing, teaching, nurturing."

Jessica's words were wise, of that you could not argue with.

"But you do not wish for a mother figure. I will not press the matter. I will allow you to naturally find that mother figure, but, you will receive all of your needs for companionship, for safety, for community directly through me."

Her words contradicted themselves, but dwelling on it seemed unwise. Jessica leaned forward, searching your eyes with hers in a way that seemed uncannily invasive.

"I'll find exactly how you need me." Jessica whispered. "Don't worry."

Her breath smelled of the curry she'd eaten. It was hot, no longer tinged with sweetness. And her eyes danced in ways that seemed almost provocative.

"... Oh no. I retract my earlier statement. My daughter was right." she whispered, voice a little husky, slightly hoarse.

A hand trailed down your thigh, nails snagging on the thin fabric, making contact with the skin beneath your pants.

"Desire."

The command inflamed your injury-restricted desires, white-hot lust burning through your body in maddening ways.

"Oh, I've always wanted to try that." Jessica smiled, eyes a little manic as she watched heat bloom over your cheeks. "Open your mouth."

It wasn't a direct command infused with the Voice, but in your altered state, it might as well have been.

"Accept the gift of my water." Jessica whispered, spitting into your mouth.

In any other circumstance, the act would have been seen as ridiculously demeaning, but combined with your basic knowledge of Fremen culture and the lust-addled state of your brain, it was enough to cause a slight gasp to fall from your lips. Jessica let out a soft laugh, kissing your cheek forcefully.

"Swallow."

You did as obeyed, her spit sliding down your throat. Jessica caught the motion with her lips, savoring the act.

"Again." Jessica whispered, hand holding your jaw.

Her saliva hit your tongue, and you closed your mouth. You waited for her lips to find your throat before swallowing. Jessica hummed, bringing your body closer.

"Now my water lives inside of you. You'll be mine before you know it."

Slowly, about as slowly as it took for your body to absorb the moisture she'd delivered you, your body stopped desiring. But the humiliation of the act lingered. The claim, the power she had of you, her words. That remained for much longer than you cared to admit.

#lady jessica x reader #lady jessica x you #reverend mother jessica x reader #reverend mother jessica x you #lady jessica #reverend mother jessica #dune #dune part two #rebecca ferguson x reader #rebecca ferguson x you #lesbian #wlw

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asirensrage · 2 months

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Ok so this my be a really odd request. Let’s say kagaya is your distant cousin. But because your part of his family your also cursed from being a descendant to muzan. As a female it’s only natural to marry you off to someone in order to break your curse. But here’s the catch, you have to marry off to a hashira of his choosing. (Males only) every hashira wants you and have to prove themselves in order to be fit. How would they all react?

I was working on this when you sent in the one today 😂 I was like "...are they psychic???" I'm not sure how this turned out, but I hope you like it.

Being cursed is one of the worst things to happen in your life. The worst part was that it was inherited. It wasn’t so bad as a child, a lingering warning that seemed like the far-off future, but now that you were an adult, it was time to act before you were consumed. You weren’t sure how marriage was supposed to cure you, to fend off the curse, but it felt like a small solution that ultimately involved passing the curse onto your own children. That’s if the candidates your cousin chose actually wanted to fight for you. It wasn’t fair. To any of you.

Sanemi

He’s not really interested in starting a family or getting married, not when it’ll just bring more danger to your doorstep. He’s been pretty determined in keeping the people he cares about away from this life…but if it will help save you, doesn’t he have a duty to try? He doesn’t think he could watch you wither away if he didn’t step in. He’ll take his rightful place at your side, but he won’t be happy about it. At least not in any way he’ll show you. At least he might be able to convince Genya to leave the corps to help take care of you while he’s away on missions…

Gyomei

Gyomei cries when he hears of your fate. He cries for your children and the ancestors who have suffered the guilt of passing on this curse to their own children. He had no plans to marry, to bear his own children, but how could he let you suffer? If none of the others will take their place by your side, you can count on Gyomei. He will ease your pain and care for you as best as he can with the life he leads.

Muichiro

Muichiro isn’t a candidate. If not only for his age, but also with how dazed and distracted he is. You need to be saved sooner than later so you can’t wait for him. That doesn’t mean he won’t support you and your chosen husband…at least when he remembers…

Obanai

Obanai knows what it’s like to be bound by the fate given to you by your family. He also knows what it is to be freed. He dreams of a life where you’re all free, where he can live his life in peace with Mitsuri…and you. He hesitates to accept a role, to fight for the role of your husband because of his love for her. It’s not fair to either of you and he knows that. It doesn’t stop him from wanting though. It’s only at Mitsuri’s insistence though that he accepts the challenge. After all, they have enough love for more than each other and if Tengen can hold multiple spouses, why can’t he?

Giyuu

Giyuu has been in love with you since you met and spoke kindly to him, but he’s not sure he can bear the weight of more death. If marrying him does not save you, could he bear it? Could you bear it if he has to go through with the promise he made in return for Nezuko’s life? He carefully weighs the potential trauma to you both. Still, he will admit, that he will try. He wants to try. If only to be able to hold you once…

Kyojuro

Kyojuro has mourned for your fate, for the choices that your family has made to bring you to this. He’s not even sure you want any of them, but he knows how the others feel. He knows how he feels. He won’t allow the curse to claim you. Not when he can take his place at your side. The future is undetermined, but with a simple action, he can try to ensure that you get to see yours. Isn’t that worth enough?

Tengen

Tengen has been intrigued by you since you met. You’re different from his wives, more delicate, and when he is informed about your curse, he understands why. When he hears that you must be married to cure yourself from the curse, he speaks to his wives. Something like this is not merely a decision he can make on his own. When they approve, when his wives ask for your hand as well, to care for you in their fold, he approaches the challenge with relish. After all, it’s obvious he’s the best choice, is it not? He’ll prove it. Whatever it takes.

#demon slayer imagines #asks #princessmahle #meekermoo #kny headcanons #sanemi x reader #gyomei x reader #giyuu x reader #obanai x reader #tengen x reader #kyojuro x reader

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rootbeerworshiper · 3 months

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Idk if u do requests but if you do could u do a fic where the reader is matts gf and she has psychic abilities/ gets alot more affected by paranormal and can dometimes see things and she goes with thr triplets to be in the sam and colby video amd she's getting targeted the whole night and she does the elevator game with mstt and sees a lady walk in on the 5th floor amd has a panic attack and matt comforts her ? That's kinda alot but 😘

All My Ghosts Matt Sturniolo x reader

warnings: panic attack and paranormal shit (obviously) otherwise just fluff !

i loveeee this request sm pls give me more!!

love, sienna <3

growing up you had always had a feeling deep down that someone or something was always watching you.

it wasn’t always in a creepy way, sometimes you’d have “imaginary friends” that only you could see, and you were told that that’s normal.

seeing figures and hearing faint laughing in the background was your normal, but you’d be lying if you said it never got to you.

you always felt different, like you understood things differently than most, on a deeper level. you felt emotions on a heavy scale, you were always referred to as an empath.

so even if you knew that what you experienced wasn’t a common occurrence to most, it was difficult getting anyone to understand you.

youtube was a safe haven for you, as dumb as that may sound. you could come home from getting teased at school and hop into bed to watch the new dan and phil video.

it was silly how many people you had watched growing up, spanning from ldshadowlady to the dolan twins, it was addictive and you simply couldn’t get enough.

eventually, you found yourself watching a channel that you were especially drawn to. a channel that talked about some of the experiences you’ve had in your life, the paranormal ones that is.

their names were sam and colby, and it didn’t take long for you to become obsessed with watching them walk through haunted hotels and asylums all while seeing and hearing things that were familiar to you.

to most it was scary, to you it was comforting. you weren’t alone in seeing those things, just some people had to look for it more than others.

you met Matt when you were working at your local panera bread. it was a normal, mostly shitty, shift but as you finished wiping down your station you heard this addicting laugh entering the store.

your head practically shot up, wanting to see where it came from, and to your surprise the contagious laugh was coming from one of three triplets.

for whatever reason they looked familiar to you but you weren’t sure why.

after some small talk you figured out they were youtubers, and this would not be the last time you saw them.

it became a regular occurrence for them to come to your workplace, sometimes just ordering a sweet tea and still leaving a tip.

Matt came in the most, always leaving you flustered behind the counter as he ordered.

eventually you exchanged socials and began talking about more than a new special, and you really enjoyed talking to him.

you had been going out with him for a few months at this point, already best friends with both of his brothers.

which leaves you to now, hanging out with your boyfriend on the couch as you explain all the shit you endured growing up, a shocked expression plastered on his precious face.

“wait you’ve seen like actual fucking figures?” he’s dumbfounded at something you were told was normal.

you just shrug. “i was always told that it was normal to have imaginary friends i don’t know. i just thought i had more than most people”

“y/n that is definitely not a normal experience oh my god that is terrifying i’m so sorry” he places his hand on your shoulder as if to console you.

it’s rare that someone realizes the pain that this small thing has caused you and you aren’t sure how to feel. “Matt it’s fine i promise. it’s just become a thing now i don’t know, i was just scared you wouldn’t believe me because it is kinda crazy”

“of course i believe you you’re my girlfriend, i just can’t believe you’ve been going through that alone” he still looks concerned but i smile to lighten the mood.

“i’m okay i just wanna cuddle with my boyfriend on the couch” he leans back, allowing you to lay comfortably on top of him and rest your head on his chest.

“i think we’re doing a colab soon and Nick wanted me to ask if you wanted to be in it”

you had been in a few videos before, but mostly just caught in the background of vlogs, saying few sentences on camera.

dating a famous youtuber definitely had its downsides, and you weren’t in the mood to deal with the hate you’d receive, even though Matt wants nothing more than to show you off.

“collab with who?” you ask, wrapping our arm around his waist and you lean in closer.

“i don’t know if you know who they are but their names are sam and colby and i think they make like-“

“shut the fuck up no way!” he looks just as confused and he is intrigued at your sudden jump off of his chest.

you place your hand on his chest to stabilize yourself. “i used to be obsessed with them throughout like all of middle school and most of high school” you smile

“so that’s a yes?” he asks, looking up at you with pure lust in his eyes.

you hadn’t actually though about it, too excited over the fact that the youtubers you once watched were talking to your boyfriend.

as fun and surreal as it would be, you can’t help but think about how nerve wracking it would be. but you love your boyfriend, and you love sam and colby, so you nod. “that’s exactly what that means”

it had been a few months since that conversation, and you are now in Texas, preparing to film in the most haunted hotel there.

at this point your nerves have subsided, you’ve met both sam and colby (somehow managing to play it cool) and you feel comfortable with them.

a sense of excitement has taken over and you welcome it with open arms, feeling like a kid again, even if you are actually 20.

“you ready?” Matt looks down to you as sam sets up the camera.

you nod and smile, butterflies in your stomach as you imagine the fun you’re about to have with some of your favourite people.

the 6 of you are standing in the lobby, an open area filled with gold framed art work and marble flooring at your disposal.

you can’t help but hold matt’s hand the moment the camera is turned towards you, the confident feeling you had moment prior slowly escaping you.

the intro goes as it always does, a bit of a premise for what’s to come and an introduction to the guests.

it all feels surreal but eventually you begin exploring the hotel.

everything is okay at first, jokes being cracked about ghosts and sam making fun of Matt’s fear of elevators, you haven’t noticed anything yet.

that is until you feel a small tug on your shirt from behind and immediately jump, clutching onto Matt.

“holy shit what was that?” Chris asks, voice filled with concern as he back away.

“something just tugged on my shirt holy shit”

Matt just hugs you back, he can already see the edits but he’s more focused on making you comfortable. “i think that was Samantha” Colby says from behind the camera. “apparently she likes to tug on clothing and even tickle guests at the hotel”

this just sends a shiver down your spine but you try to keep a brave face, especially considering you had only been filming for about 20 minutes. “hello Samantha!” you joke, shaking away the nerves and letting go of your boyfriend.

the video continues, and you all continue to walk through the haunted space, occasionally hearing knocking and footsteps. but it brings you a small sense of comfort knowing that everyone hears it, you aren’t alone.

you make it to the most haunted room, room 525 where two women passed away tragically in the bathtub. “who ripped ass in here oh my god” Nick groans, furrowing his eyebrows and plugging his nose instantly.

it truly smells terrible, but for whatever reason you’ve smelt only before. a few years ago you were with some friends in Boston when you explored some tunnels under a bridge, it was said that multiple people had overdosed there, leaving it haunted.

the smell of the tunnels is almost identical to the smell of the room, but you avoid telling anyone about it, not wanting to talk on camera more than you have to.

although the group is only in there momentarily, you hear something coming from the bathroom.

a scream. coming from a woman.

you try to hide the look of terror that appears on your face when you jump back. “did anyone else hear that?” you ask, not wanting to be the only one. you notice the camera that appears in your face almost instantly.

except you were the only one, unless its heard on the footage later. “what did you hear?” Matt asks looking towards you with all of his attention.

“just a uh woman screaming i don’t know” you rub your hands on your face, attempting to gain composure. “she sounded terrified”

“we’ll definitely have to do an investigation in here later” Sam says, but inevitably you all leave the room to go explore more.

and you do just that, exploring all different areas of the haunted hotel.

the nerves have gone away slightly, and although you still see the occasional figure in the corner, you just avoid mentioning it, not wanting to come off as a fake.

Colby then brings up the idea of an elevator ritual, and Nick and Chris have made it their mission to send you and Matt on that quest, alone.

you aren’t normally terrified of elevators, not nearly as much as your boyfriend, but the idea of a woman spirit (who you may see) joining you on the 5th floor makes you uneasy.

“we don’t have to if you don’t want, i can go in alone” Matt looks down to you, whispering quietly to avoid being heard by the others.

you feel stupid, Matt’s the one with the elevator fear, no way he should go in alone. “no Matt i’m good, i’ll just cry in the fetal position if it comes down to it”

he laughs and places a kiss to your temple, out of frame of course.

and so it’s settled. you and Matt will take place in the ritual, spanning from almost every floor of the hotel, while the boys below use something called the “onvoy” to talk to spirits.

they make a few jokes about what they’ll do if you die in there and say their “goodbyes”.

you and Matt head into the elevator that has just opened without any buttons pressed, camera in hand.

(i’m making up random numbers here bc i cant be bothered to copy every one from the vid so ignore that)

“okay first floor is… floor 4” you say, Matt immediately presses the button and you go up.

it continues like that for majority of the floors, just the door opening and no one out there. this isn’t too bad.

this is until the 5th floor, where Matt has to invite a woman into the elevator with you.

to the average person with little belief in ghosts, this would be nothing, funny even. but to you? the moment he finished that sentence you felt a breeze run across your chest.

all of a sudden, the small box felt smaller. your breathing increased as the elevator door shut and you just grabbed onto Matt’s hand. you try your best to breathe but it feels like you can’t inhale. like the presence of a ghostly woman has literally taken up to much space for you to receive oxygen.

Matt notices immediately by the way you squeeze your eyes shut and for whatever reason the elevator stops.

“oh my god holy fuck” you mutter out. he helps you to the floor and you bring your knees up to your chest. by this point the camera has been tossed to the side as Matt sits next to you.

“breathe y/n you’re okay” he rubs your back and begins taking deep breaths for you to follow along.

“i should be comforting you- the elevators stuck and your scared and-“ you blurt out in between quick breaths.

he gently grabs the side of your face to turn you towards him. “look at me” you bring your eyes to his, you’re lip now quivering. “what happened? you can tell me i’ll believe anything you say okay?”

“i can feel her in here Matt. like i felt her walk in and now the elevator feels smaller and-“ you throw your head back against the wall of the elevator.

“remember when you helped me with my panic attack?” he holds both of your hands and you nod. “i need you to do what you told me to do”

“focus on me. don’t focus on the elevator or the ghosts just look at me okay?” you bring your eyes back to him. “now you just have to match my breathing yeah?”

he takes long, loud deep breaths and slowly you are able to follow along, feeling less stressed than before. the moment you’ve caught up on your breathing you place your head on his shoulder, fully relaxing into him.

“i’m so sorry you have to see shit like that it’s probably terrifying” he now rubs your shoulder.

even though you are locked in an elevator in a haunted hotel in an unfamiliar state, you feel mostly okay, because you have Matt.

suddenly the elevator begins moving again, going down. a wave of relief washes over you because the fact that it’s going down means the ritual didn’t work.

Matt begins to stand up, reaching his hand out to help you up as well and he films a very quick summery of what just happened (minus your full fledged panic attack)

everything’s okay again. you land on the main floor to meet the boys once again and although your terrified, you know that you have people here that support you, and that means more than any ghost ever will.

a/n: i hope i did this justice bc i had so much fun writing it!! ily anon

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #sam and colby

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pkshenanigans · 2 years

Text

The S.I.M.P Gene

Pairing: Saiki Kusuo x Reader

Warning(s): Actually inheriting a dominant trait from his father righsldnsocsesssghhh~

A/N: Rewatching Saiki Kusuo with my sister and I don’t care about the risks, Kusuke is my husband. But this ain’t bout him.

Summary: Saiki is leagues away from resembling his father in any way, shape or form...Except...

——-

What a pain.

Of all the things to inherit from his father, why this? And why now?

He was having a hard enough time dealing with his classmates, you mean to tell me he had to worry about you, too?

No that he has any issue with you.

On the contrary, you were wonderful. Amazing, in fact.

He likes you.

And therein lies the problem.

Kusuo is very level-headed and he trusts his common sense.

Even though the world around him is… well… Not as level-headed and well-versed in the ways of common sense. 😅

So the realization that he is capable of having this… this unrestrained affection for you blindsided him.

Why is he doing your homework for you today when he is a firm believer in people taking responsibility for their own mistakes?! Oh well, it’s just this once.

He has no choice but to listen to other people’s problems, but why is he actively trying to help you with yours even though it’s going to be more trouble then he’s willing to deal with?! Oh well, it’s just this once. (It’s not)

Sigh. He can’t deny it. He likes you a little too much.

He likes how you aren’t afraid to say what’s on your mind, but at the same time you speak sense.

He likes that you have a good head on your shoulders. Every now and again you can’t help yourself with the Saiki gang, but the fact he can sometimes avoid being dragged into his classmates’ messes just by leaving with you whenever you don’t have time for it is quite refreshing.

He could actually trust you with knowing about his powers because you had a little secret of your own!

No, you weren’t a psychic too.

You had your own powers to keep under wraps.

He likes your laugh, unrestrained and full of feeling. It gets really embarrassing when you do it in public but when it’s just you and him, it’s fine if you let it rip!

——-

Can we talk about how he enjoys being seen with you by Teruhashi way more than he should?

Trying to ask him out in front of you as to intimidate and overshadow you, but at the same time she can’t let it look like a date because of appearances~

Kusuo is just done, and he’s not cool with Teruhashi snuffing you like that.

But you don’t even flinch. You were scared of no-one, and you better believe Saiki filled you in on what she was really like so you knew just how to deal with her.

“Hi Teruhashi, L/n here!” You wave your arm in a wide arc in front of Saiki, making your presence known.

“Given how nice you usually are, I’m sure you didn’t mean to pretend like I wasn’t here-“

‘She definitely did.’

‘Oh, I know.’

You slide over to Saiki, arms touching at the elbows. “-but Saiki’s taking me out this weekend…”

“Oh, r-really? If you don’t mind me asking, where are you going?”

At this, you waved her off. This girl really had it bad for Kusuo. Well, too bad, your plans come first. “It’s a secret~”

It drove PK’s perfect pretty girl nuts!

‘Seriously?! That girl’s been here a whole three months, there’s no way she hasn’t done some exploring on her own! She must be using her ‘new girl’ status to get close to Saiki! Saikiiiiii!!! You CAN’T think she’s prettier and more perfect than me, you just CAN’T!’

Kusuo didn’t know if he could say you were perfect, but he could say without hesitation he preferred looking at you over her. Also, considering that he liked you… a lot…

And he didn’t like Teruhashi… at all…

The comparison just couldn’t be made. Not without making a permanent enemy out of every man in the universe.

He was relieved that he didn’t have to go on another date with Teruhashi. He knew you were only baiting her because she had been rude, but he couldn’t ignore the pleasant humming his heart was doing when you revealed that you were also defending your plans together because you really wanted to spend time with him.

“Sorry, I may have made it seem like more than it was…”

‘No complaints here. I’d rather not go anywhere with her.’

——-

While he was alone one day, investigating these… *gulp* feelings… he ended up getting an unexpected unwanted phone call from his older brother.

At first, he was just gonna let the phone ring. He had more important things to worry about and his super villain brother was not one of them.

But Kusuo knew Kusuke wasn’t going to be snuffed that easily. He’d call the house phone next and his mother would make him talk to him or worse, he would show up in person.

He was better off taking this call and getting on with life.

And baybee! Somehow. Someway.

Kusuke called asking about you. 💀

Like, how sway? Kusuo didn’t say a thing about you, made certain not to alert his parents of your existence but he still found out!

“Silly, did you forget that I see everything? You’re slipping~”

Oh right. His brother spies on him whenever the mood strikes him.

Ugh. Pain.

Having his brother in his business was thee last thing he needed right now. But he may as well get a second opinion. So he spills a teensy bit of tea.

He admits his strong attraction to you, despite the two of you being just friends, and it’s not even in the way most high school boys are attracted to girls.

He suspects that, despite his better judgment, he might be letting you have your way a little too often, even when it doesn’t benefit him in the least to indulge you. To be fair, the amount wouldn’t look like much from a normal person’s perspective.

It’s just a huh-yuuuuge leap for Kusuo personally.

He doesn’t even pursue relationships, but you don’t push him to be one way or the other and it makes him want to reconsider.

And Kusuke, classic evil Kusuke, had to pipe up and say the worst thing ever.

“The answer is very simple, little bro. You’ve inherited dad’s simp gene, and the trait is surfacing for this L/n girl.”

……..The AUDACITY!

Kusuo hung up right in Kusuke’s face. He should have known better than to expect anything helpful from him. Not about this…

A simp, huh?

Laughable.

The idea was as impossible as it was ridiculous. Saiki Kusuo was many things. A simp he was not. He knew better than that.

And yet… The more he thought about it, the more similarities he found between the way his father talked about his mother and the way he felt about you.

He was not a simp, but every day spent with you, he felt as if he were slowly creeping towards something scarily close….

Ugh. NO!!!!

While most boys wanted to be just like their fathers, the thought that Kusuo actually might have inherited something, anything from his father, wasn’t a pleasant one.

And this was the worst possible trait he could have gotten. Well. Aside from the freaky skill of polishing $300 leather with one’s tongue but we’re not getting into that.

For a week straight Kusuo gave his father the cold shoulder. Every attempt at any father-son bonding was rebuffed and he refused to help him with his powers.

“I don’t get it Kusuo, why are you being like this! You’re even more surly and cold-hearted than usual!”

‘You cursed me with your incurable disease. I’ll never forgive you.’

“What are you talking about?!”

It took his mother, his grandmother, his friend group AND you to patch the bridge between the two of them.

Oh well, he’ll figure out how to deal with his feelings.

He’s Saiki Kusuo. Making the most messes was his unfortunate specialty.

#saiki no psi nan #saiki headcanons #kusuo saiki #saiki x reader #pkshenanigans #anime #saiki k #saiki kusuo x reader

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fatecantstopme · 11 months

Text

Love is Never Easy

Pairing: Elliot Stabler x Wife!Reader

Summary: Elliot's temper and anger issues force a wedge between the two of you. You ask for a separation in the hopes that it pushes him to get the help he needs.

Warnings: Separation and talks of divorce. Cursing. Use of pet names. SMUT, unprotected sex (P in V), not super descriptive...this is about love making and connection.

"That tension in your jaw? Your vein pulsing in your forehead? The way you clench your hands into tight fists? It's rage, Elliot. Pure, intense rage."

"How the hell would you know how I'm feeling, huh? Are you psychic now?" he yelled.

"I can read the cues, Elliot. And I know you, better than anyone else. If you keep bottling it up, eventually you're going to explode. God only knows who you'll take with you when you do."

"How many times do I have to tell you I'm fine?!"

"It doesn't matter how many times you say it!" you yelled back. "A blind man can see you're not okay."

"You think because you're a shrink you know everything?"

"When it comes to you, I'm your wife, not a shrink. But I can't turn it off, Elliot. You need help."

"Screw you, (Y/N)."

He started to walk out the door and you felt your heart clench in your chest. You knew if he left, there was a good chance something terrible would happen.

"Just answer one question," you begged, stopping him in his tracks. "How many times have you thought about eating your gun?"

For the first time since the argument had begun, Elliot was speechless. You had never asked him that before and he didn't know how to answer you. He didn't know how to tell you that he thought about it all the time. He didn't know how to tell you that he'd almost made you a widow more times than he could count.

Even when he wasn't thinking about killing himself, he was making decisions that put him in danger...way beyond the typical line of duty scenarios. He put himself in harm's way so often it had almost become second nature. He tried never to think about you getting a knock on the door...his partner and his captain telling you he was gone.

If he thought about those things, then he couldn't be reckless. He couldn't make those poor choices. As it stood, those choices were already killing him inside. He'd pulled away from you long before you'd put the separation on the table. What was the point in hurting you more than he already had?

"Suicide's a sin," he mumbled.

"This isn't about religion. This is about you and the choices you make."

When he turned to look at you, his eyes were haunted--filled with a pain so deep you couldn't begin to comprehend it. You took a step towards him, desperate not to lose him. "Talk to me, Elliot. Just talk to me."

His heart ached hearing you plead like that. It wasn't in your nature to beg, and here you were begging for the second time in less than a minute. "What do you want me to say?"

"The truth," you pleaded.

To your surprise, he turned around, shutting the door behind him. He leaned against the wall and ran his fingers over his face, emotion covering every inch of it. "You don't just wanna leave and get this over with?"

"Is that really what you want me to do? Do you I believe I think so little of our marriage?"

"No," he whispered, almost inaudibly.

"Then for once, Elliot, please. Just be honest with me."

He stared at the floor for several moments before deciding to answer you, eyes never leaving the ground. "I think about it all the time, but I'm more inclined to be reckless than I am to eat my own gun."

You were taken aback by his words. You hadn't really expected him to be honest with you and you certainly hadn't expected him to give you that answer.

"Do you want to fix this?" you asked softly, unsure if you really wanted the answer.

He finally looked up at you. "I don't wanna lose you."

"Then get help."

**********

It had been six long months since you'd begged Elliot to get help. Six months since you'd told him you wanted to separate. Six months since you'd taken the kids and moved in with your sister.

You only saw Elliot on weekends when he came to pick up the kids, and even then it was only briefly. The only news you ever got about him came from Olivia when she would call you to give you an update.

You'd never wanted to split up...never wanted a divorce...never wanted to lose him. But you had to protect yourself and your kids. Plus, you wanted to shock him into getting help. Asking for a separation was the only thing you could think of to push him into finally talking to someone.

You had no idea if he was going to therapy or not. He'd never told you and you didn't ask. For the first time in 15 years, you felt like it wasn't your place to pry. If he wanted to open up to you, then he would do it on his own.

You were sitting at your desk, thinking about the past, remembering things you'd long since forgotten. Most of your memories with Elliot were good, but this wasn't a happy trip down memory lane.

You remembered when you got pregnant with your first child. Elliot had just joined the NYPD and you were settling into your new job with the FBI as a forensic psychiatrist.

When Elliot found out you were pregnant, he was thrilled...but as the days went on, his mood shifted. You started to worry about whether he actually wanted this baby or not, a concern you'd never had before.

One day, you finally gathered the courage to ask him what was going on. "El...do you not want this baby?" you'd whispered.

He'd been shocked. "Of course I do, doll! You know I've always wanted a family, especially with you."

"Then why don't you seem happy?"

He'd grabbed your hand and squeezed it tightly. A look of sadness had crossed over his features and he whispered his biggest fear aloud for only you and God to hear, "What if I'm like my dad?"

You knew his past. You knew how his father had treated him. What was worse was you knew exactly how badly it had damaged him. But you also knew him.

"If I know anything for certain, I know this," you began. You gently lifted his chin so he was looking into your eyes. "You are not your father. You are kind, loving, and gentle...and I know you're going to treat this baby as reverently as you treat me."

The memory almost hurt to think about now. You hadn't been wrong...Elliot was nothing like his father, but he'd carried that hurt with him for almost 40 years. It affected him in ways even he didn't want to admit.

You sighed loudly, trying to will the memory away. You didn't want to think about it anymore.

"Am I interrupting?"

You looked up with a smile. "Never. What's up?"

Your partner and close friend, George Huang, entered your office. "I heard the dramatic sigh. You okay?"

You shrugged. "Taking a trip down memory lane. It's nothing."

He gave you a look that said he wasn't at all convinced, but he didn't pry. "How are the kids?"

"They're all doing really well, considering. The twins keep asking when daddy is coming home."

He nodded his understanding. "And how is Elliot?"

"You'd know better than me. You're the one that sees him all the time."

"Only because you refuse to go to the precinct."

"It would be awkward and you know it."

He sighed. "Do you want my opinion?"

You groaned. "Professional or friend?"

"A little of both."

"Fine--go on."

He sat down in the chair closest to your desk. "He's different, (Y/N/N). Anyone can see that he's trying and the whole squad has noticed it, myself included. As your friend, I really think you should talk to him."

"What if he doesn't wanna talk to me?"

Huang gave you a look that said it all. "If you don't know how much that man loves you, then you're an idiot." He held up his hand to stop your protest. "And I know you're not an idiot. Talk to him, (Y/N/N). He needs you."

He got up and left your office without another word, leaving you to sit there and think about what you were gonna do next.

**********

It took a couple weeks, but you finally decided to take Huang's advice. You'd called Elliot and asked him to meet you for dinner at a little diner near the office.

You arrived about 10 minutes early and to your surprise, Elliot had already gotten a table and was waiting for you. It was very unlike him to be on time...let alone early.

He stood up when he saw you walk in, but when you reached the table, it became evident he didn't know what to do.

"Can I hug you?" he asked softly.

You nodded and offered him a small smile. He pulled you against him tightly and held on, as if he was terrified of letting go.

You pulled away and gestured for him to sit back down. You slid into the booth across from him and began to study him. You knew you shouldn't...but you wanted--needed--to know where his head was.

He actually looked shockingly good, better than he had in a long time. His eyes were clear and bright, and the bags that had once lingered under them were gone. He was clean shaven and his hair had recently been trimmed. All in all, he looked healthy and perhaps even happy.

"You look good," you commented softly.

"So do you."

You knew for a fact you did not look good...but you appreciated the lie. Being apart from him for so long had really taken its toll on you, as had taking care of the kids by yourself. You were tired, mentally, emotionally, and physically.

You looked down at the clothes you were wearing and felt a twinge of embarrassment. Your shirt was more wrinkled than you would have liked and you were pretty sure you'd accidentally gotten bleach on your black pants, as evidenced by the odd reddish stain you hadn't noticed that morning. You'd come straight to the diner from work, so you hadn't had time to change.

"I look like I slept on a park bench last night," you grumbled as you tried to smooth down your shirt.

Elliot chuckled, the sound clear and crisp. "You look as beautiful as the day I met you...cheesy as that may sound."

You blushed. "It ranks up there with cheesiest comments you've ever made."

He smiled. "It's nice to see you, (Y/N)," he said softly. "I mean really see you."

You simply nodded. You weren't quite ready to talk about the separation yet. "How have you been?"

He sighed, noting your subtle avoidance. "It was hard at first--really damn hard--but I'm actually doing pretty well now." He paused. "I, uh--I started seeing a therapist."

Your face lit up in surprise. You hadn't expected him to be honest with you so quickly. "Really? That's great."

"Yeah, it's actually been surprisingly helpful. I feel like I've broken down a lot of those barriers I had up, ya know? It was awful at first, but once I started talking, it was like I couldn't stop. For a while there, I was going twice a week. Now I'm down to biweekly and the doc says I'll probably be able to go to once a month soon."

You felt a little jolt of pride warm your chest. You were proud of him for owning his issues and for working to make himself better. All you ever wanted was for him to start to heal...if he couldn't talk to you, then he might as well talk to someone who could help him.

"George mentioned you'd been going to therapy. He said you were doing really well."

His expression soured slightly. "Huang told you?"

"He is my partner, you know." You sighed. "If it makes you feel better, he only told me a couple weeks ago."

"It's not that I didn't want you to know or anything...I just kinda wanted to be the one to tell you."

"When were you planning on telling me, El?"

"I don't know...I figured I'd just mention it when I picked up or dropped off the kids."

"You've been going to therapy for how long?"

"Almost 7 months."

"I'm proud of you, Elliot, I really am. But I wish you would have told me sooner."

"I'm sorry."

Your eyes widened slightly. "I...I can't remember the last time you apologized to me for something."

He looked down at the table. "I know. It's one of things we've been working on."

"I appreciate your apology," you whispered. "It's just--If I'd known about the therapy, I probably would have arranged this meeting sooner."

"Really?"

He seemed genuinely surprised and it broke your heart a little. "I missed you, El. Every single moment of every day for the last 7 months."

His eyes widened in surprise. "I--I didn't know."

A look of hurt flashed across your face.

"I just figured you wanted to get away from me," he said quickly. "I mean, you're the one who asked for the separation."

You reached across the table and grabbed his hand. "I never intended to hurt you, Elliot. I just wanted you to get the help you needed. I..." you sighed. "I missed the man I love, the man I married, the wonderful loving husband and father...I just wanted him back."

He squeezed your hand. "I didn't even realize how far away I'd gotten from the person I was, but when I did, it was too late. You'd already pulled away and then we had that big fight and that was it...you moved out and I had to try and piece my life back together."

You swallowed thickly. "Something needed to get your attention, Elliot. My words weren't enough. I asked for the separation because I thought it would force you to get help. I never intended to take it any farther than that."

He lifted your hand to his lips and kissed it gently. "I know," he whispered against your skin. "I think it saved me, (Y/N)--I really do."

"I'm glad, El. I really am." I just hope it saves us.

As if he read your mind, he spoke your thought into existence, "I hope it's enough to save us, baby. I still love you more than anything in this life."

Your heart skipped a beat just like it used to when you were young and madly in love with the man sitting across from you. "Nothing's changed for me. I love you more now than I ever have."

"Even after everything I've done? Everything I've said? All those times I let my temper get the best of me?"

"Even after all of that."

"I'm not sure I deserve it."

"You have my love and my forgiveness, Elliot. They're mine to give and I give them to you freely," you said gently. "It may surprise you, but I always knew why your temper was so intense, why you'd fly off the handle at the smallest thing...but you never wanted to open up to me, so I couldn't help you. I did the only thing I could think of to help you help yourself."

"I'll be forever grateful, (Y/N)."

"Me too."

He looked at you quizzically, so you elaborated.

"I'm grateful for your strength, your perseverance...for your willingness to change. And I will always be grateful for your love."

"It means a lot to me, (Y/N/N)."

"I always had faith in you, El."

He smiled, but the expression didn't quite reach his eyes. There was something more...something that was clearly bothering him.

Much to your surprise, you didn't have to prod him for answers. "What about us, (Y/N)?"

"I always hoped the separation would be temporary."

"We were broken long before the separation, doll. As much as I don't want to admit it, it's the truth."

A look of sadness crossed your face. "I know."

"Can we fix it?" he asked so softly you almost didn't hear him.

"I'll never stop trying," you whispered back. "I'm not ready to give up on us, Elliot."

"Neither am I. I never wanna lose you," he admitted. "I'll do whatever it takes to fix this."

"I think this is a good start," you responded softly.

"Forgiveness," he said simply. "Forgive ourselves and each other."

You nodded. "Forgiveness."

The two of you spent several hours at the diner--talking, eating, laughing, even crying. It felt good to be with each other like this...to hash out so many things that needed to be said, deal with all the things that needed to be handled.

Before you knew it, your watch read 10pm. You hadn't even realized you'd been siting there for so long. "Shit, it's 10! The kids will probably already be in bed."

Elliot looked at his watch in surprise. "I didn't even realize it was so late. Stay here--I'll go pay the bill and then I'll walk you out."

A few minutes later, he came back to the table to get you.

"Where'd you park?"

"I took the subway, actually."

"Oh, um...can I at least drive you home? Or if you don't want me to do that, I can call you a cab--"

"I would love if you took me home," you said, cutting him off.

He seemed relieved. He hated the idea of you being out late at night, completely alone. He couldn't guarantee you'd be safe in a cab anymore than the subway. "My car's this way."

He started walking down the sidewalk and you fell in step beside him. It was a chilly evening and you'd been completely unprepared for the drop in temperature. After a few minutes, you started to shiver, the cold cutting right through your thin shirt.

Elliot took notice immediately. "Take my jacket, baby. It's cold." He started to shrug it off and before you could protest, he cut you off. "You're freezing, so take the jacket. No fuss."

You accepted it gratefully, the warmth flooding your body the moment you put it on. "Thank you," you said softly.

"You're welcome."

As you continued to walk, his scent washed over you with every breath you took. His jacket smelled like him and it enveloped you in a warm cocoon of Elliot. His scent was even more intoxicating than you were used to, perhaps because you hadn't smelled it in so long.

You tentatively brushed your hand against his, gauging his reaction to the touch. Unlike you, he didn't hesitate--he intertwined his fingers with yours in such a familiar way, it almost made you cry. You hadn't realized how much you'd missed this...all those little things the two of you stopped doing ages ago. All the little ways you showed love or affection had seemingly died off, but what scared you most was that you hadn't really noticed.

"When did we stop touching each other?" you whispered aloud.

"What?"

You hadn't even realized you'd said anything out loud until he spoke. "Oh--I was umm...I was just wondering when we stopped being affectionate? I--well, I don't remember the last time we held hands."

His eyes darkened with sorrow. "Neither do I. I can't pinpoint an exact moment--all I know is that I missed this. So much."

"I missed you," you whispered. "In all the ways you can miss someone."

You'd just reached his car when you stopped talking. Elliot opened the door for you, but you didn't get in. He'd always been good at reading you, just as you were good at reading him. Years of loving someone will do that to you.

He took a step towards you so his body was mere inches away from yours. You looked up at him and your breath caught in your chest. As you stood there feeling like a love-struck teenager, all you could think was please kiss me.

As if Elliot heard your thoughts, he leaned into you and pressed his lips to yours with a tenderness you'd long since forgotten. Your hands rested on his hips and you pulled him closer to you, desperate to feel his warmth.

The tenderness quickly turned to something darker, something more primal. You needed him--and he needed you--like a drowning man needs oxygen. He was your drug of choice, always had been, and you knew you'd never be able to quit him.

Elliot pressed his body up against yours, leaning you back against the frame of the car. He held onto you, lips parting to deepen the kiss.

You needed to breathe and you suspected he did too, but in that moment, nothing else mattered. It was you and him, locked in a passionate embrace you never wanted to end.

But it had to end eventually--the survival instinct kicked in and you pulled away from each other, completely breathless. You both sucked in air desperately as he leaned his forehead against yours.

"Baby..." he whispered.

"Take me home," you begged.

He pulled away instantly, a look of hurt crossing his handsome face. "I'm sorry, (Y/N/N), I didn't mean to--I shouldn't have--"

You grabbed him and tugged him to you so you could kiss him again. When you let him go, he stared at you in stunned silence. "Take me home, Elliot. Please."

He started to smile as the realization crossed his face. He'd thought you were asking him to take you to your sister's...not home. "You've got it, doll."

You smiled warmly as he helped you into the car before practically running to the driver's side. You chuckled lightly, his haste making you roll your eyes affectionately.

As soon as he was in the car, he was off--speed limit be damned.

"Babe, if you wreck this car, I swear..."

He laughed. "I won't, I promise. I just need to get my girl home, okay? She asked so nicely."

You chuckled again. You couldn't remember the last time you felt this way--like a giddy schoolgirl or a horny teenager. As opposed as you were to breaking traffic laws, you decided to let it slide this time--the need to get home as soon as possible was really all you could think about.

In what had to be record-breaking time, Elliot pulled into the driveway of the home the two of you had shared together for almost 10 years. You hadn't been inside in months, but right now there was only one room you cared to see.

Elliot didn't even make it around the front of the car before you were closing your door and making your way to the house. He chuckled lightly as he ran after you, arms snaking around your waist to you pull you back against his chest.

"What's the rush, baby?"

"I need you, Elliot, and I need you now. Are you really gonna make me wait?"

The dark, seductive tone in your voice nearly brought him to his knees. "No ma'am," he insisted. Then he scooped you up like he did when you were both a lot younger and carried you to the door like you were his brand new blushing bride.

"Elliot!" you yelled, laughter clouding your voice. "Put me down! You're gonna strain your back."

He laughed too, but he didn't put you down. "Don't underestimate my strength, baby. Besides, you're light as a feather."

"You lie, but I love it."

He grinned as he carried you across the threshold. "I would never."

Instead of putting you down once you were inside the house, he continued to carry you towards the stairs. "Absolutely not!"

"I'm not gonna drop you."

"No, but we might fall down the stairs!" You started to squirm to make your point.

"Fine, fine. But only because trying to hold onto you now would probably be a death sentence." He sat you down gently. "Crazy woman," he teased as he leaned in to kiss you.

"Lock the door and meet me upstairs," you said before running up the steps to your bedroom.

He grinned ear to ear, and made sure to lock the front door before racing after you.

When he reached the bedroom you'd shared for almost a decade, his heart skipped a beat at the sight before him. Somehow in the 10 second head start you'd had, you managed to get down to nothing but your bra and panties. You were laying on the bed, chest rising and falling rapidly, a look of heady desire on your face.

"Aren't you gonna come in?"

Elliot smiled and stepped into the room. "I was just admiring the view."

You smirked. "See something you like?"

"I see someone I love."

Your expression softened and you reached out for him. "Come here, baby."

He slipped his shoes off and made his way over to the bed.

"Wait--maybe take off your shirt and pants first."

He raised his eyebrows.

"Unless you want me to rip them off."

He laughed. "As sexy as that might be, I don't want to be vacuuming up buttons for the next month."

You laughed softly and watched as he quickly undressed. "Lose the undershirt too, while you're at it."

"When did you get to be so demanding?" he teased before complying with your request.

"You love it," you teased back.

He climbed onto the bed and hovered over you. His lips grazed your ear, as he whispered, "You know I do."

When he kissed you this time, you felt all the years of love the two of you shared, all the things you'd left unsaid for so long, and all the emotions you had both been holding back.

Love wasn't easy--it was messy and imperfect, but you wouldn't have traded it for anything. Very few people were blessed with true love and those that were knew to hold onto it. You had come so close to losing it--losing him--but you'd never let yourself really feel that loss. His gentle loving touch reminded you of everything you'd come so close to losing and it brought tears to your eyes.

"Hey," he said softly, noticing your tears. He brushed back your hair and he wiped a tear from your cheek. "What's wrong, doll?"

"Nothing, El," you assured him. "Everything is just right."

"You don't usually cry when I kiss you."

You laughed lightly and wiped your eyes. You reached up to touch his face and he leaned into your palm. "Losing you is my biggest fear," you whispered. "I came so close...I never want to feel that way again."

"You won't," he murmured as his eyes turned glossy. "I'm not going anywhere."

You sighed softly. "Make love to me, Elliot Stabler."

"Your wish is my command, (Y/N) Stabler."

Hips lips met yours again in a searing kiss. The way he touched you, held you, kissed you--it was passionate and loving, and you were once again reminded that it had been years since you'd made love like this.

His hands were gentle, but firm, as if he wanted to make sure you knew he wasn't going anywhere. The room was filled with nothing but his gentle whispers of affection and your soft moans of enjoyment.

By the time he was ready to enter you, you were already teetering on the brink, your body vibrating with need. He slid inside of you in one quick thrust, and you gasped his name in his ear.

There was nothing rushed about the way he moved, despite the pent up desire you'd both experienced. He gave you what you needed and accepted what you gave him. The soft sounds you made spurred him on, his need to hear you reach your peak his driving force.

"I love you so much, (Y/N/N)," he whispered.

You kissed him breathlessly. "And I love you."

There were a thousand things he wanted to tell you, a million sweet nothings, but those would have to wait. He had forgotten what it felt like to be so deeply connected to another person--so intimately intertwined. It was a feeling he could never put into words and he'd only ever felt it with you.

"I missed this," he murmured. "I missed you."

"I missed us," you whispered in return.

In truth, he'd missed everything about being with you. He would have sold his soul if it meant he never had to leave you. He imagined you wouldn't be particularly fond of such a thought, but he couldn't help the way he felt. You were his world and he would have done anything to keep you.

"I'm close," you gasped, nails digging into the flesh of his broad back.

"Hang on for a little longer, baby. I want you to cum with me."

"I don't think I can."

"Yes you can, doll. Do it for me."

You nodded and dug your nails in a little deeper, as if the reflex kept you from falling over the edge.

Elliot groaned softly, the pain mixing with the pleasure in just the right way. He knew he was going to have marks on his back tomorrow and he would wear them with pride.

His pace quickened slightly and your moans began to increase in volume. You continued to clutch onto him and your core spasmed around him, pulling him closer to the edge.

"I'm almost there, baby," he murmured.

You whined, unable to verbally beg him to speed up.

He took the hint and changed his pace again, chasing his own high. He knew you couldn't hold on much longer, but he was desperate to feel you reach your climax at the same time as him.

"Need to cum," you begged.

"Almost, baby."

You whined again, but you continued to hold on.

He knew he was seconds away from orgasming, but he waited until the very last moment to whisper in your ear, "Cum for me."

The moment those words left his lips, the cord in your abdomen snapped and you cried out as the wall of pleasure slammed into you. Elliot came at the same moment, a cry of your name ripped from his throat as he filled you with his seed.

You clung to each other as you began to come down from your highs, unwilling or unable to let go. Elliot collapsed on top of you and you held on tightly, enjoying the feeling of his warm body enveloping yours.

Through the haze of pleasure, you were reminded of how incredible sex was when it was with someone who loved and respected you as much as you loved and respected them. There was nothing special about the sex itself...it was missionary position for crying out loud, but the person you were making love with is what made it special.

"You are my heart and soul, Elliot. I could never love anyone the way I love you." You whispered the words into his hair, almost hoping he didn't hear you.

He didn't move for a long moment--so long, in fact, that you thought he may have simply fallen asleep. Then he lifted his head to look at you and the words he said would stick with you for the rest of your life.

"I never knew what love was until I met you--it was just a word, nothing special. I've been madly in love with you for as long as I can remember and I'll never want anything else. You are my everything, (Y/N)...my sun, my moon, my stars, my universe. You are branded on my soul for all of time."

That was, without a doubt, the most romantic thing he'd ever said to you--and he'd said a lot of romantic things in the past 15 years. Your eyes filled with emotion and you tried your hardest not to cry.

He pulled himself up and leaned over you to kiss you gently and sweetly, a kiss you returned gladly. When he pulled away, he laid down beside you and tugged you to him, not quite ready to let go of you.

You nuzzled into his chest with a sigh, perfectly content to stay right there forever.

Elliot kissed the top of your head and squeezed you tightly, making sure you knew he wasn't going to let you go. He knew there was still going to be a lot for the two of you to talk about, but you'd managed to reform a connection that you'd both lost, and he'd be damned if he let it break again.

He wasn't at all surprised when you spoke up as if you'd read his mind. "We still have a lot to talk about, El."

He chuckled softly. "I know, baby, but we'll have plenty of time to talk tomorrow. For now, I just want to fall asleep with you in my arms."

You sighed happily. "I think I can live with that."

It didn't take long for you both to fall asleep, the comfort of each other's arms all you needed to feel safe, protected, and so very loved. Love is never easy, but it is always worth it.

#elliot stabler x reader smut #elliot stabler x wife!reader smut #elliot stabler smut #elliot stabler x reader #elliot stabler x wife!reader #stabler x reader #stabler x reader smut #detective stabler smut #detective stabler #law and order svu smut

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denaliwrites · 5 months

Text

Don't Look Away

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader

Part 1: Don't Blink Part 2: Don't Turn Your Back Part 4: Dreams See Us Through

Summary: You're finally rid of those godforsaken angels.

Requests: Open!

Tag List: @nyxiethesimp, @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce

Warnings: Weeping Angels.

You were so tired.

Between the nightmares and the constant vigilance, there was just... never a moment of rest for you.

Sure, the Doctor whisked you away again, back out into the far reaches of time and the universe, but no matter where you went, you always wondered if the angel was lurking nearby. And when you went back home, you knew that it was.

Out of sight, in this case, did not mean out of mind.

And the Doctor -- oh, the Doctor. He missed the old you. You could see it in his eyes. Every time he looked at you, even if he was smiling, you could see the broken hearts behind those beautiful brown eyes.

You had half a mind to leave him, to spare him the pain of watching you slowly wither away to nothing. And it was happening -- you could feel it, the way your body was getting slower, like it was in the process of shutting down.

Your mind, too, was starting to go. Things that normally would've taken moments to understand took you minutes. The Doctor often found you wandering the TARDIS with little recollection of where you were or how you got there. Your adventures became less frequent, and on the occasions he did take you on one, he was forced to keep a close eye on you so that you didn't trail off and get lost.

And then the adventures stopped.

The Doctor still picked up distress calls and the like -- but he couldn't help people and keep an eye on you at the same time, so you were left in the TARDIS while he went and did his thing.

You didn't mind, though. The rare times you were completely and totally alone gave you the opportunity to cry your heart out.

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

The Doctor... wasn't a fan of problems he couldn't solve.

Did he accept that there were problems he couldn't solve? Of course -- the universe was vast and mysterious, even to him. Planets that by all accounts shouldn't exist existed. He'd met species that by all accounts shouldn't have been able to evolve, but somehow had.

(He still shuddered at the memory of the creature on Midnight.)

But acceptance was not the same as liking. And he did not like problems he couldn't solve.

In fact, he rather hated them.

You were a problem he couldn't solve. Or, at least, adjacently. More accurately, the Weeping Angel that had psychically latched itself onto you was a problem he couldn't solve -- but it was a problem for you, and he couldn't solve that either.

It killed him.

It killed him, it killed him, it killed him.

He just wanted to see you smile again. Hear your laugh. Feel you radiate joy and wonder and curiosity.

One thing the Doctor also hated?

Running out of time.

How did a Time Lord in possession of a time machine ever run out of time? How could he have let himself run out of time?

You were on the verge of needing actual medical attention -- intervention, really. He could see you deteriorating, noted how the process was getting faster and faster every day.

He was going to take you to New Earth, to those cat nun nurses. If anyone could help you, it was them -- loathe as he was to admit it.

But he thought, one more adventure. One more little trip, before he took you to be healed, and one trip to a doctor that could heal you better than he could before he took you home for the last time.

One more trip, one more doctor's office, before he gave himself to the Weeping Angel.

It was the only solution.

Well, the only solution he could see, at least.

So, he landed the TARDIS someplace low stakes. Calm, peaceful. Normal, far as the universe went. A little market planet by the name of --

"Vipitera!" the Doctor exclaimed as he swept out of the TARDIS with a big grin on his face. You shuffled close behind, a hand clutching at his coat to keep from losing him.

"Vipitera," he repeated as he swung around to face you suddenly, his bright and excited eyes meeting yours -- dull and exhausted. His grin didn't waver.

"Vipitera," he said again, slower, really drawing out the syllables. "Vipitera, Vipitera, Vipiteraaaaa." Each time he repeated the name, it sounded goofier and goofier.

Finally, miraculously, he managed to coax out a smile from you. His grin broadened. "There you are," he said with such amazement and adoration. He pulled you towards him and planted a loving kiss to your forehead. "There you are."

He tucked you tightly against his side and led you away from the TARDIS. He'd landed in some kind of supply closet, so it took some walking and weaving through halls, but eventually the two of you stepped out into the market proper.

He watched as your eyes sparked to life and bounced from stall to stall. He could almost feel the excitement flooding your brain, igniting parts of you that had been dulled and left to flicker out for far too long.

He supposed that was his fault.

"Welcome to the market planet Vipitera," he said with a grin and a broad motion to their surroundings. It effectively chased the thoughts away, as he got to see you smile again.

"Let me just -- hold on --" He pulled away from you to dig in his pockets, pulling something out a minute later. It looked like some kind of computer chip. "There's loads of credits on that thing," he said as he passed it to you with one hand and scratched the back of his head with the other. "Off you pop. Go wild."

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

You didn't like the idea of going off on your own, but you figured -- a planet as public as this, with constant activity and very few places a Weeping Angel could hide -- either someone would've noticed a moving statue disappearing people, or there'd be too many eyes and not a lot of moving, generally.

And the Doctor thought it was safe, and he usually wasn't wrong.

The only problem now was that you had no idea where to start. Holding your credit... chip? close, you carefully started making your way through the nearest stalls, browsing what they had to offer.

Some had food that smelled incredible but looked maybe unfit for human consumption. Some had little knick-knacks and trinkets. A handful had jewelry. One had books.

You stopped to browse the book stall and ended up buying the biography of the first human president of Vipitera.

Why? Well, why not?

You also bought an Agatha Christie novel with a special edition, Vipitera exclusive cover, because you thought the Doctor would get a kick out of it.

And then you were off, looking around and buying things until your arms were full -- and, in your defense, the Doctor had told you to go crazy.

It eventually got to the point where you had to make a trip to the TARDIS to drop your haul off in your room.

As you headed back to the market, you thought you felt someone watching you -- you thought the angel had somehow found you, but the feeling passed just as quickly as it had come. Knowing the angel wouldn't have let you off so easy, you figured it was something else and went back out among the stalls.

The Doctor found you eventually, after you'd bought another armful of things, and led you to a human food stall after dropping all your new things off at the TARDIS (again).

Your eyes lit up and your mouth watered at all the options.

"Pick for me?" you asked the Doctor, looking at him with big, round eyes. "I don't even know where to start."

"Well," he started, motioning at something that looked somewhat like spaghetti, except the noodles (were they noodles, even?) were teal, and the sauce was a deep, foresty green. "Can never go wrong with Yuphorian nishles and pine sauce."

"... Nishles?"

"Fish noodles. Yuphorian fish meat is that color because of the algae they eat."

You blinked down at the curiously colored meal. "It's... good, though...?" you asked, finding it hard to get over the fact it looked like candy.

"Oh, yes. It's delicious."

"I'll try it then."

While he ordered you the nishles and a couple other things, you went to find a place to sit and decided on a nice shaded table in one of the far corners of the dining area.

A cool breeze blew past as you settled into one of the chairs. Barely a moment later, something was draped over your shoulders and you looked back to see the Doctor laying his coat over you.

"What about the food?" you asked, drawing the coat tighter around yourself.

"They're gonna bring it," he replied as he sat next to you.

"Thank you."

"I couldn't leave you shivering--"

"No, not for that -- I mean, yes, thank you for lending me your coat. But... no. Thank you for today."

The look he gave you was so sad. It broke your heart and confused you in equal measure.

"What's wrong, Doctor?"

The smile he shot your way was forced, and the glimmer in his eyes wasn't from joy but from unshed tears. "Oh, nothing," he replied. "Nothing at all."

He obviously wasn't convincing, but you knew pressing the matter wouldn't get you anywhere. Instead, you decided to rest your head while the two of you waited for your food.

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

The Doctor had forgotten what you looked like when you were sleeping -- he'd forgotten what peace looked like on your face.

You were only taking a light nap while you waited for alien pasta made out of fish oil, but to him, you were the pinnacle of beauty in that moment. Of everything he'd seen in all his nine hundred odd years traveling through time and space, this moment with you was the most remarkable. The most stunning. The most breathtaking.

How he hated that he had to wake you up.

He waited, at least, putting it off until the waitress was gone and then for a little bit longer before he shook you awake.

You grunted, every cell in your body desperate to stay under to the point of protest, but he kept at it until you stirred.

"Time to eat," he told you as your eyes fluttered open. "Come and get it while it's hot."

He saw the heaviness of sleep in your eyes as you looked up at him and oh, how he adored it. How he'd missed it.

"Mmm," you replied, making him chuckle.

"I promise I'll let you rest when you're done eating," he said, pushing the plate of nishles towards you. "C'mon, before it gets cold!"

He could see how begrudging you were to get up, but you did so anyway, and grumpily stabbed at your pasta for effect.

"Oh, come now, what did the poor nishles do to deserve this?" he asked teasingly.

He saw a flicker of a smile on your lips.

Emboldened, he continued. "All that work being processed and cooked to be eaten, just for you to stab it."

That little secret smile grew, just a bit.

"Those poor nishles."

He watched as you broke at the word nishles, dissolving into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. They were probably spurred on by delirium, but it had been so long since he'd heard you laugh that he didn't care.

"Oi, why are you laughing?" he whined playfully. "Those fish didn't give their lives just for you to laugh at them!"

Your giggles grew into a full belly laugh, and the Doctor thought that if he were to die in that moment, he'd die happy, because he would've gotten to hear you laugh -- really laugh -- one last time.

Your fit of laughter eventually died down, helped along by you taking a few deep breaths and putting in a concentrated effort to stop.

"So..." you said, biting back another bout of giggles. "Ni--nishles..."

"Nishles," the Doctor agreed, watching you.

He continued to watch as you took the first bite, watched as your face shifted across a vast array of expressions, and watched as it eventually settled on bewilderment.

"What... is that...?" you asked, blinking rapidly at the dish in front of you.

"That'd be the pine sauce, made from the needles of the Yuphorian fir."

"It... but it doesn't taste like pine," you whimpered in confusion, eyeing it.

"Well of course," the Doctor said with a grin. "It's not Earth pine sauce, it's Yuphorian pine sauce. Earth pine sauce would be disgusting -- well, I suppose juniper sauce might not be. Or gin sauce... oh, there's an idea..."

He didn't realize you were staring past him until he paused and took in your suddenly stricken expression.

"What is it?" he asked softly, watching you carefully.

"I-I thought I... I thought I saw..."

Oh, no.

He turned to look behind him, but whatever you'd seen was gone.

If you'd even seen anything.

Not that he didn't believe your experience, but he was in a difficult position; you were deliriously tired and paranoid (rightfully, of course). Both things could lead to hallucinations.

He knew this, and yet he knew without a doubt that he had to take you seriously, for your sake.

"C'mon," he said quietly, moving to a stand. "We can finish lunch in the TARDIS." You nodded your assent and grabbed the food, then stood and tucked yourself into his side.

He led you through the market, through the building you'd materialized in, and to the TARDIS.

He slotted the key into the door, turned to unlock it, then turned back to look at you --

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

You didn't need to see the Doctor's stricken expression to know the Weeping Angel was behind you. You could feel its presence like a breath against your neck.

It felt like every hair on your body was standing to attention. It felt like your whole body stopped. You couldn't hear your heartbeat, but you could swear you heard the Doctor's hearts hammering away.

With a shuddering breath, you whimpered his name. You saw his eyes twitch -- he wanted so badly to look at you, but couldn't take his eyes off the angel.

"Get into the TARDIS," he commanded, "don't worry about me, I've got an eye --"

"Doctor," you interrupted, voice small but surprisingly steady.

You could see tears gathering in his eyes. He was desperate to look at you.

"I can't move."

Understanding dawned on his face, and you watched as his hearts broke right in front of you.

"I'm sorry, Doctor."

"You?" he asked in a tearful growl. "What have you done to be sorry for?"

"I'm sorry we won't have more time together."

He let out a hollow laugh. "No. I'm sorry. I couldn't save Rose, couldn't save Astrid, couldn't save Donna. And I can't save you."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. It's not okay! Why you? Why you?"

"Doctor."

You could see him struggling to keep his eyes open, now. He struggled, and soon he'd fail.

"Doctor, let me go."

"I can't lose you, too."

"We don't have a choice."

He struggled. His eyes were twitching more now, desperate for relief, and he still so desperately wanted to be looking at you rather than the angel.

And then finally, the inevitable.

He blinked.

And your world went black.

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